The Cowboy Way	The Cowboy Way

 by Laura Lee Snowee

  

 Author's website: http://snowee.50megs.com

 Disclaimer: Alliance owns the DS world, but my ideas are my own.

 Author's Notes: Thanks to RSY who let me fic 'em and made the challenge.

 Story Notes: 

 

 

 1
 A hard spring rain had settled the dust and put most people indoors for
shelter when the dark-haired man rode into town. His blue eyes surveyed
the scene, one contrary to the what he'd expected. Water settled on the
brim of his hat and he was soaked through. A chill was beginning in his
bones, the temperature dropping the longer the sun stayed hidden. Beneath
the horse hooves, sticky mud made their progress slow; a sloshing and
sucking sound announcing their way. 

 When the territorial governor called Benton Fraser into his cozy office,
Benton expected a full reprimand for the arrest and conviction of a fellow
government official which he'd largely executed. Standing before the tall,
aging man, he found that a reprimand wasn't going to appease Governor
Keeley. Even with Benton's father's best friend, Buck, recommending
leniency, Keeley was set to send Benton into the foray known as Gochick
Canyon. 

 Benton had heard tales of Gochick, a small town grown from the mining of
silver. Now that the Canyons seemed to have given all the silver they
held, the town had become a lawless area run by outlaws rather than a lazy
drunken sheriff. 

 Glancing in the window of the saloon, Benton first noticed a pair of wide
eyes watching him. Examining the face of the lovely woman, he took note of
the dark hair and revealed neck. Looking further down, he saw that the
neck wasn't the only skin visible and, barely taking a moment to note the
way she leaned back to give full reference to her breasts, he snapped his
head forward and looked ahead to the shingle which read 'Sheriff'.
Approaching slowly, he dismounted, throwing his legs forward to land on
the warped wood walkway. Wrapping the ropes of the horse around the
hitching post, he turned and looked inside the bubble-like window. One man
sat in a chair, his feet on the desk before him and his mouth wide open as
his head sloshed back. Benton could hear the man snoring before he opened
the door. 

 Sheriff Benton Fraser stepped up to the man and cleared his throat. The
man didn't budge. Glancing at the desk, Benton was quick to see why. An
empty bottle of whisky rolled gently back and forth when Benton pushed the
man's feet off the desk. Although he'd observed his badge, Benton gave the
man the satisfaction of identifying himself. As he straightened groggily,
Benton reached into the pocket of his red shirt and produced a piece of
paper. "Are you Jerrard?" 

 "Sheriff Jerrard," the man replied in a gruff tone. 

 Fraser handed the man the piece of paper and, as he opened it, spoke
again. "Then this is for you." He allowed the man to read the paper, then
stand. "I would appreciate it if you would gather your possessions and
leave by the end of day." 

 Jerrard scowled. "This piece of paper means nothing!" 

 Benton tugged his ear. "On the contrary. I believe it relieves you of
your duties and is signed by a Judge." 

 "Well, this Judge Harding Welsh isn't here, now is he? Far as I'm
concerned, this means nothing. I'm still sheriff until someone comes and
takes my badge." 

 "Ah! I see," Fraser said quickly removing Jerrard's badge. "You were only
making sure there was someone here to take over your duties. Well, that's
why I've been sent here so I assure you, I'll do a good job." 

 Jerrard looked angry, but the alcohol had numbed his reflexes and he
couldn't think of a response. After a moment, he was able to come up with
the response used when words failed him. He drew his gun. Benton grabbed
the gun from the pathetic man. "I see no reason to resort to violence." 

 Jerrard tried to hold tight, but Benton was younger and stronger and had
his senses about him. The rain stopped now, but the clouds remained.
Benton stood strong, not letting this minor opponent deter his duty.
Jerrard glanced at his empty bottle of whisky and frowned. He wanted
another drink more than to stand here arguing with this man. He dropped
the paper on the desk and left, stumbling slightly. 

 Benton pinned the badge to his pocket and placed his wet hat on a hook
behind the desk. Taking a few moments, he cleaned the desk, noting that no
personal items were there. In fact, the only thing strewn across the desk
was a stack of wanted posters. Making a survey of the office, he saw that
none had ever been posted. 

 Searching the drawer, he realized the place had never been properly
stocked. Looking outside, he saw the sky beginning to lighten. People were
slowly moving back into the streets and Benton was amongst them. Heading
toward the General Store, he crossed through the mud, carefully stepping
where it wasn't deep. He soon realized he should have waited to cross
after passing the saloon because a woman leaning on the hitching post
quickly threw off her shawl. Benton cleared his throat and looked past
her. From the door of the saloon, he then saw the young woman from before
peek her head out, then rush out the batwing doors while straightening her
corset. She immediately posed and flipped a lock of hair behind her
shoulder. 

 Benton tried to ignore the woman as he approached, but she moved into his
view and smiled. "Hi," she said smoothly. 

 He cleared his throat again and stepped to the side. The woman let him
pass, keeping a careful eye on his sculpted form. "When you're ready, you
just ask for Meg," she said slyly, winking at the man who was not only
avoiding looking at her, he was walking faster. 

 2
 Browsing the available supplies, Benton bought a few basics for himself
and the sheriff's office. He knew that when he walked back outside, it
would be difficult to avoid the women on the street. He planned carefully
to step out the doors and cross directly to the bank before heading back
toward his new office. Feeling more confident, he stepped outside into the
sun, only to be greeted by that which he'd originally expected. Two men
were fighting and another group was in a brawl. The women stood back,
encouraging it to continue. 

 Debating only a moment, Fraser could see that the two men were near
giving up, but the larger fight was the bigger challenge. Heading for the
group, he noted that it seemed to be four against two. The two fought
hard, fiercely, but only trying to subdue while the four were out for
something much more than blood. 

 Stepping firmly into the melee, Benton yelled over the crowd. "You are
under arrest!" He heard laughter and took only an instant to glance over
his shoulder and see the woman who called herself Meg doubled over.
Grabbing one of the less violent pair, he pulled back. The spiky haired
blond resisted only a moment before catching a glimpse of the badge. In
cooperative fashion, he kicked his partner, a slightly taller man with
green eyes and thinning dark hair. The second followed suit, stepping back
with Fraser and the blond. The other four found they had no opponents and
stood. Simultaneously taking an inventory of his own cuts and bruises, the
dark haired one spoke. "We're just cleaning up some trash." 

 "You're the trash!" One of the men yelled back, another spitting at the
blonde's feet. 

 The blond jumped at the man, but Benton stopped him. "All of you will
come with me." 

 "Who the hell are you?" the blond asked, glaring at the badge Benton now
wore. 

 "Benton Fraser. I've been sent to replace Sheriff Jerrard." 

 The blond grunted. "Last thing we need's another sheriff." 

 Fraser reaffirmed his stance. "Come with me," he said again firmly. 

 "Look," the dark haired one said. "Let those boys go. We'll take care of
them later." 

 "You have all broken the law. You'll all come with me," he said, grabbing
the dark haired one and one of the others. The latter spat on Fraser's
boot. Pulling them along, the others followed reluctantly. As for the
group of four, they figured it wouldn't matter. Once this man saw who
really was in charge, they figured, they'd be free and he'd be dead,
drunk, or run out of town. 

 The other two seemed to be completely cooperative. The blond followed the
dark brunette all the way. 

 Pushing the four into one cell, Benton locked the exit, then pushed the
other two into the cell nearest his desk. The blond resisted, but the
other grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. 

 Benton moved behind the desk, sat, and began to make notes in a small
leather-bound book. No one said anything for several minutes, but finally
the dark one interrupted Benton's writings. 

 "We're glad you're not a drunk," he said at first, smiling a little to
ease tension. 

 "I would imagine so," Benton replied without looking up. 

 The dark one could see that a light, ambiguous approach would not work
with this man. "I'm Ray, this is my partner Stan." 

 Benton looked over and raised an eyebrow. "Partner?" 

 "We've sort of taken over control of the law here," Ray offered as
explanation. "You met Jerrard, right?" Benton nodded. "Someone had to do
something." 

 Before Benton could inquire further, he heard movement at the entrance
and turned his head. The moment he saw that it was a modestly dressed
lady, he jumped to his feet, as did Ray and Stan. 

 "Ma'am?" 

 The dark haired woman's face of annoyance changed quickly to a smile. She
froze in her steps and stared at the new face. "Hello," she said softly. 

 "Francesca!" Ray scolded, then turned to the new sheriff. "Take your eyes
off my sister." 

 "And my fiance!" Stan chimed in. 

 3
 Benton tugged at the collar of his shirt and turned to the two men
standing in the cell. Uncomfortable by the position in which he found
himself, he said nothing. Ray took that cue and shifted. "As soon as you
let us out, we'll..." 

 Benton stiffened. "I'm sorry, but you seem to misunderstand. No crimes
will be allowed and therefore you will remain here until Judge Welsh comes
out this way and sentences the six of you." 

 Stan now looked angered. "What? We're helping you, you self righteous..."


 Francesca walked over to the cell and reaching in, placing her hand on
Stan's arm. "Come on, now. You both want the same things. Maybe we can all
work together." 

 Stan stopped, smiled at the woman, then turned to glare at Benton.
"You're right, Frannie." 

 Ray shifted. "How about this, Sheriff," he began respectfully. "Since
we're trying to do the same thing you've been sent to do, we'll make a
deal. You let us out and we help you. We'll back you up." 

 "I don't make deals," he replied. "The judge will be here in..." 

 "He won't," Ray jumped in. "Look, Judge doesn't bother to come out this
way anymore. Our crime is minor. We could be in here for months, maybe
even a year or more." 

 Benton debated his options. With someone to assist in arrests, putting up
wanted posters, and general extinguishing of crime, he could imagine
things being decent in no time. While he wanted justice, he realized that
this was justice the way it would have to be. He walked to the cell.
"Deputies?" 

 Stan nodded. As soon as Benton opened the door to the cell, one of the
other four piped up. "What about us?" 

 Stan looked threatening. "What about you? You're not planning on helping
stop any of those crimes you've been committing, are ya?" 

 "Doesn't matter," the largest of the group said. "We'll be out soon
enough anyway." 

 "That's what you think," Ray added under his breath before turning to
Fraser. "What do you want us to do?" 

 Fraser tugged on his ear, sizing up the jobs he needed to accomplish. The
spiky blond would be quick to fight, he decided. He needed someone with a
slightly more level head until he could get that firecracker to a slower
burn. He took the stack of wanted posters and the small bag of tacks he
bought at the general store and handed them to Stan. "You hang these,
please. I'll take Ray and we'll make a survey of the town." 

 Stan stared at the papers. "Tacking posters? Are you kiddin' me?" 

 Benton shook his head and left without another word. Ray shrugged at Stan
and followed. 

 As soon as they stepped into the street, Fraser saw another fight.
Running to stop it, he passed them to Ray. 

 "Those cells will be full in no time if you plan on arresting everyone
around here. You're not going to have anybody left on the streets," Ray
said quickly. "What next, the saloon?" 

 Benton eyed Ray. "Well, you know, Ray, I was reading the code during my
ride and it appears prostitution was made illegal after the mines closed."


 Ray chuckled. "You're kidding me, right? You're joking with all this." 

 Benton shook his head. "I believe I saw several pairs of shackles hanging
on the wall in the far corner. Perhaps you could bring them with you when
you meet me at the saloon." 

 Ray shook his head and tugged the two men with him. Fraser headed toward
the batwing doors of the saloon. Many women were standing out in the fresh
air beckoning him, but while they were on his list, they weren't the first
priority. In his experience, most fights started with whisky inside a bar
so he knew the best way to stop them was to begin at the source. 

 Stepping through the doors, the chink-chink of his spurs were enough to
quiet the room. News traveled quickly and they had all been waiting for
the moment this over-anxious new sheriff walked into their haven. 

 The place was a mess. Half the tables were victims of broken legs, barely
standing. Most chairs wobbled horribly. Benton stood firm, observing the
place. He noticed movement and looked up to the stairway. There he saw a
woman in a gown descending. It was obvious she had the money the other
women did not. Keeping near the entrance, Benton moved aside and let her
come to him. 

 "Well, well, well," she said to him, smiling. "Look what's made its way
into my establishment." 

 "This is your saloon?" Benton asked, incredulous that a woman owned the
place. 

 She nodded slowly, letting her eyes drift up and down his body for a
moment before looking satisfied. "You ready for a break from your first
day in town?" She tapped at his badge with her nail. 

 "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm going to have to request that all illegal
activity in this establishment cease at this time." 

 She chuckled. "Illegal? There's no such thing here." She paused and ran a
hand down his chest. Benton tried to move away, but ran his back into the
wall instead. "But you'll see that's true soon enough," she hissed. 

 Benton cleared his throat once, then again. His face felt warm. Her touch
was really getting to him and he turned his eyes away from her. Still,
looking away was no help either. The woman who called herself 'Meg' stood
near also, smiling and holding a corner of her skirt to her hip, her leg
protruding. 

 Benton swallowed hard and tried to speak. A few people went back to
drinking and gambling, but most were intrigued by the new sport that had
apparently been created. 

 Just then, Ray stepped into the saloon. He first noticed how quiet and
peaceful the place had suddenly become, then saw Fraser pushed up against
the wall. He stepped over, one hand carrying shackles as ordered. "Back
off," he said to the woman. 

 She didn't take her eyes off Benton's deep blue ones and only said, "No."


 Ray pushed at her shoulder. "I said back off." 

 "Remove your hands!" she demanded, glaring at Ray. "You'll not lay a
finger on me." 

 "Listen, Jen, we're cleaning up this place and since you run the saloon,
the gambling, and the women around here, you're top of the list." 

 Jen frowned and placed her hand on Benton again. Benton squirmed, then
grabbed her wrist. "I'm afraid he's right. If you are the one in charge of
prostitution and gambling, I'll be forced to place you under arrest." 

 Looking defiant, she pulled her hand away. "Go ahead. Arrest me. There's
a line a mile long of ladies who would love to take my place." 

 "I'd hardly call them ladies," Ray said. 

 Benton reached over and took one set of shackles from Ray. "Ma'am," he
said, motioning that he wanted to put them on her. 

 "Perhaps we should do this up in my room," she suggested smoothly, adding
a wink. 

 4
 The sky was dark and the jail cells full when Benton finally handed the
keys to Stan. Stan smiled at the group amazed, more than anything, at the
number of people Fraser had managed to arrest in one day. Everything from
murderers to litterers were now behind bars. The first cell had been
designated for females and the rest were crowded with men. Benton had
quickly sent notification to Judge Welsh that his presence was desired. 

 Benton and Ray left the offices, leaving Stan on guard for half the night
before Ray would return to take over. 

 Alone in the room, Stan used the reflective surface of the window to
check his hair. A candle burned on the desktop providing just enough light
for him to see Jen move against the bars near him. 

 She smiled, hoping that if she played this right, she'd be able to sleep
in her own bed tonight. "Hello, Stan," she said seductively. 

 Stan looked away. 

 "Oh, come on. All you have to do is unlock this silly thing and you can
have your pick of any one of my doves." She winked. 

 Stan scratched his neck with his thumb. 

 "You used to like visiting my establishment." 

 Stan glared at her. "Well, now I'm engaged." 

 Jen chuckled. "No one has to know, you know. As long as you aren't
talking about it, no one will be the wiser." 

 Stan shrugged and looked back at the reflection of light flickering in
the front window. Suddenly he noticed movement on the other side. A young
woman walking alone through the streets was hardly safe. He jumped to his
feet and sprinted to the door. 

 In the pale light of the moon, he recognized the figure which walked
quickly toward the hotel and furrowed his brow. "Frannie?" 

 Spinning on her toe, she looked as though she'd been caught mid-crime.
"Honey, I was just coming to see you." 

 "Where did you think I was?" 

 Francesca looked up at the sign above his head and stepped toward him. "I
suppose I wasn't paying attention." 

 Stan nodded, then stepped back inside the office and held the door until
she stepped in also. 

 Glancing quickly over the crowded cells, Francesca remained in the corner
near the door. 

 "You know I don't like you out alone at night," Stan said, smiling
gently. 

 Francesca pulled her shawl tighter over her shoulders. "Things are safe
now, aren't they?" 

 Stan nodded reluctantly. "Safer, yeah, but by no means safe. The cattle
herd came in tonight which means the cowboys will be in town any time now.
They don't know what's up." 

 Francesca nodded. "I'm sorry." 

 Stan shifted. "You don't have to be sorry, just be careful, ok?" She
nodded again. "Now, I'd like to walk you home, but I have to stay here
until Ray comes back." 

 Francesca smiled. "Where is he? Is he with, you know, the new sheriff?" 

 Stan looked out the window, then back to check the cells where everything
had quieted. Leaning his hand on the wall beside her head, he smiled back.
"Benton? Yeah, the two of them went for dinner at the hotel." 

 Francesca nodded slowly. "Well, perhaps I should go join them?" she asked
hesitantly. 

 Stan smiled and nodded. "That sounds like a good idea." He leaned forward
for a gentle kiss, but she moved to the side. 

 "Not with everyone watching," she whispered, looking over his shoulder at
the cells. 

 Stan chuckled, then opened the door for her again and stood in the
entrance, watching her walk toward the restaurant on the ground floor of
the hotel. Once satisfied that she was safely inside he turned back toward
the cells. 

 "Isn't that sweet?" Jen said sarcastically. "It really is too bad for you
that the new sheriff is so handsome." 

 Stan looked annoyed and confused. "What does that mean?" 

 "Oh, nothing," Jen replied innocently, then turned back to her girls in
the cell, giving them a wink. 

 5
 Jerrard could almost be described as sober by his demeanor, but Tim
watched him stumble and would still call him drunk. Jerrard had come to
Tim, a reputed gunfighter, in the early morning hours. At the time, the
man had been babbling and murmuring about a new lawman. After a couple
hours of Tim pouring strong coffee into the old man, he was finally
beginning to make sense. 

 "You say he closed down the saloon?" Tim asked, incredulous and
disappointed. 

 Jerrard shook his head. "Naw, they're still servin' drinks. Icecat's
keeping things going. Some of the girls are still servin' the drinks, but
no more gamblin' and no more hanky panky." 

 Tim smiled at the foolish words of the man. "Sounds like things have
gotten out of control down there." 

 Jerrard nodded. "We gotta get some boys together to take care of this
bastard." 

 "Agreed." Tim responded. "I'll go into town today and take care of him." 

 "Not gonna be that easy," Jerrard said. "Seems some of the townsfolk are
pretty happy about this new guy. My best men are sittin' in a cell and the
rest of the town's behind the sheriff." He paused. "Not to mention his two
deputies, Ray and Stan." 

 "That guy deputized those two morons?" Tim chuckled. 

 "Not such morons when they got law on their side," Jerrard added. "They
got badges and respect now. They're not the two guys tryin' to take on the
whole town no more. Now they're fightin' in favour of the town an'
everybody likes 'em. Everybody who's not in jail, that is." 

 "I hear Jim's got a bunch of good men with him these days. I still have
plenty, but if the two of us team up, we should be able to get things back
to normal," Tim theorized. "You sleep the booze off and I'll get in touch
with Jim." 

 "I ain't drunk," Jerrard insisted. 

 Tim frowned. "Whatever you say, but it doesn't change the fact that you
gotta lay off them demons until we fight this war. Got it?" 

 Jerrard looked down at the floorboards, then back at Tim. "All right," he
finally agreed. 

 6
 Benton, Ray, and Stan had established a quiet route through the town.
Things were calm and all they were waiting for was the Judge to come clean
out the cells. One always stayed at the sheriff's station in charge of the
cells while the other two wandered the streets in watch for illegal
activity. 

 There had been none for over a day. The cowboys came into town quietly,
exhausted from the cattle drive, and had made little more than a peep
since. 

 Ready for a relaxing moment, Ray led Benton into the saloon. Stepping up
to the bar, he put a foot on the step and leaned on one elbow. Giving a
smile, Ray ordered himself a drink, then turned to Fraser. "What'll you be
getting?" 

 Benton cleared his throat. "Sarsaparilla, please," he requested. The
bartender turned and returned moments later with the two drinks, placing
them in front of the respective clients. Ray held his drink and turned,
now facing the room. Benton watched him carefully, then leaned on the bar.


 "We've done some pretty amazing cleaning up," Ray stated, filling the
silence between them. 

 Fraser watched the bartender, then watched the approaching figure in the
mirror. He sipped his drink, then turned slowly. 

 Icecat moved close, as she always did when speaking with Sheriff Fraser.
The intimacy made him uncomfortable, but she always watched her tongue so
he could do nothing about it. "Yes," she hissed, smiling at Fraser, but
obviously responding to Ray's comment. "Jen will be very glad to see that
you've cleaned out the riff raff." 

 Ray shifted his attention to Icecat. "Jen is the riff raff," he responded
dryly. 

 Icecat chuckled simply. "Well, that's debatable. All I know is I haven't
had a hand on my ass all day." At that she looked into Benton's eyes,
inviting him. 

 The sheriff responded by tugging at his shirt collar and stepping away
from the bar. Ray chuckled and ducked his head. "'Spose we should get back
to our rounds," Ray offered as an escape. Benton nodded agreement, placed
his glass on the bar, and strode toward the doors. 

 Nearing them, however, he was blocked. Jerrard stumbled in through the
doors and, upon seeing his replacement, he straightened. "Well, now. You
partaking of the gifts?" 

 Benton furrowed his brow in anger. "Jerrard..." 

 Ray moved beside Benton. "Well, now, Jerrard. Why don't you get yourself
a drink and drop dead." 

 With a chuckle, Jerrard steadied his feet and placed a hand on his gun
holster. "This is just between you and me, Sheriff," he hissed. 

 "And me and Stan," Ray chimed in. "Between you and the whole town,
actually. People finally feelin' safe 'round here." 

 Jerrard chuckled. The fools had no idea what was in store for them. They
had no idea what was going on in the streets as Jerrard stood there,
distracting them. They'd have their town back if it was the last thing
they did. Jerrard stepped forward, forcing Benton and Ray backward a step.
"You think this can last? There's an element here offering to make me a
rich man. I liked gettin' paid for doin' nothin', but I like getting' paid
a lot to ruin you even more." 

 Ray smiled, mocking Jerrard with the grin. "You're a drunken bastard,
Jerrard. Best you can hope for is managing to feed yourself long enough to
die of old age." 

 Benton, meanwhile, was observing Jerrard and noticing the behaviour. The
man had conveniently blocked their exit and was now trying to force them
back inside. Squinting, he judged Jerrard's sober appearance, then pushed
the man gently aside and rushed out into the street. 

 Jerrard tried to stop the sheriff, but was not successful. He followed
and when Ray saw this, he followed also. Stepping out, Ray was greeted
with the scene. Just out of view from inside the saloon, Seana, a lovely
woman who came to town on occasion, was being held by the neck, a gun at
her temple. The assailant went unrecognized by Benton, but was quickly
identified by Ray. "It's Matt, one of Tim's men," he explained to Benton.
The sheriff didn't know much about Tim, but he knew the town had been run
by two main factions, those who followed Tim and those who followed a man
named Jim. He'd heard only of their cruelty. 

 Benton took a step forward and was immediately ordered by Matt not to
move. Taking one more step, he was stopped by another sound. Looking to
Matt's left, another pair came from a doorway. Fraser furrowed his brow,
but the native Ray helped again. "The widow Ellen," he gasped. "That's
Tyler. He's from Jim's gang." 

 Fraser nodded. This meant the two factions were working together. He
gauged the scene, measuring which he could save first and how to save
both. Reaching for his gun, Ray placed a hand gently on the weapon,
awaiting the orders of his insane superior who chose not to arm himself.
Ray and Stan had given their sheriff a lot of flack for it, but in the
end, Benton's stubbornness won out. 

 Before a decision could be reached in the stand off, a stagecoach rolled
quickly toward the men and their horrified captives. It stopped near them;
another man at the ready, a woman riding shotgun. The four climbed in
quickly and the man whipped the horses, hollering a simultaneous "Yah!" 

 Ray ran after them, but couldn't keep up. Benton ran also, at the last
moment, jumping onto the rail at the back and hanging tight. Ray watched
them disappear into the dust, then ran back to the office, ready to seek
Stan's assistance. 

 Benton had great difficulty keeping his balance on the rail. There was no
handhold so he'd been forced to grasp the edges. The wheels blew dust as
high as the coach and he heard a scream from inside the box. Moving to one
side, he peered around the stage and watched the path they were taking.
Gripping tightly, he managed to remain with them around a corner. Once
around the bend, he saw a bump in the road. Preparing for his opportunity,
he steadied himself. 

 As they went over the bump, he acrobatically used the added turbulence to
swing his legs into the air and to the top of the coach. Now grasping the
rails, he moved forward. The woman looked back and took aim with her long
barreled rifle. Benton had to duck from a shot before getting close enough
to grab the rifle. A struggle ensued, but in the end, he threw the rifle
from the coach. The woman then pulled a gun and aimed it into the coach,
yelling her command. "One more step and I shoot. Only God knows who I'll
hit. Could be one of the lovely ladies inside." Benton held still. He
couldn't risk their lives. The man at the helm chuckled, leading their way
directly toward the canyons. 

 7
 Arriving at the destination, the stagecoach came to a halt. Tied to the
trees were a number of horses. Matt and Tyler climbed out, the women still
at gunpoint. The woman, once seeing that they were well threatened, moved
her gun on Fraser. "Step down," she demanded. Fraser moved slowly. The
position was simply too precarious to try anything. He'd wait until he had
the security of the ground to make any move. 

 The man climbed down first, then she kept her gun on Fraser as he climbed
down. He made a count. First of all, there were too many horses for the
group. Second, the two men with guns were occupied with the women. The man
who had driven the stage had no weapon. The woman on the coach lowered her
weapon when Benton's feet touched the ground. The only way she would feel
safe that he wouldn't try anything would be if... He turned and looked
into the trees. It was then that several men came out and pointed guns at
Fraser. He was surrounded. He turned again and made his sharp observations
of each person, their positions, their weapons. 

 Ordered onto a horse, Benton agreed for the safety of the women who were
kept with their respective captors on their mounts. The group was taken up
the mountainside and to the mouth of a mine. There they dismounted and
Fraser was ordered down from his horse. He was then tied and led down the
way, Ellen and Seana close behind. Fraser methodically thought out a plan.
The place seemed shaky, rocks and pebbles dropping at each large sound.
They obviously planned to let the place cave in. Fraser knew that to carry
out the plans, they would have to leave him alone with the two women. 

 Far into the manmade cave, they tied the three together to a post held
tight by rock. Setting a lantern on the ground, they used it to help them
see. Once they felt the three could not get loose, the men left them alone
together. 

 As the men came out from the cave, they began to prepare. It wasn't long
before Tim and Jim arrived on horseback. Tim dismounted. "You got them in
there?" Matt nodded. Tim dropped a bullet into his gun, aimed, and fired
into the cave. 

 Fraser heard the sounds of the rock crumbling, closing the entrance to
the cave. He listened and counted. A wall of small to medium boulders had
blocked the entrance, but only about six feet thick. Stan and Ray would be
along. They could handle that. It was the second wall near the bend that
concerned him. It had also closed off, but it was at least another fifteen
feet. No one would hear them if they called for help and they would never
hear if help had arrived. Digging their way through fifteen feet of rocks
would be quite a challenge, but Benton saw that he had two healthy pairs
of hands to help. 

 Just as they began to relax, Benton heard a creaking. Near them, a side
of the wall began to crumble. After a moment, water began to slowly drip
into the cavern. Benton frowned, then tugged at the post. It wouldn't
budge. Using his fingers, he began to work on the ropes. To say their time
was limited was an understatement. 

 8
 Stan and Ray moved northwest, following the way the apparently stolen
stagecoach had gone. They found the trail, but when they reached the
canyons west of town, they were lost. Ruts from the stage had stopped, but
the stage was no where to be found. There were vast amounts of horse
prints, but they went in every direction. They took a couple routes, but
darkness was closing and a productive search was out of the question. 

 The pair rode back into town and were immediately disturbed by the scene.
They had to guide their horses around two dead bodies, shot in the chest.
It was the two farmers whom the boys had left in charge. Nearing the
saloon, they heard loud noises and whoops from the women in front of the
doors. Stan gave Ray a glance and Ray nodded. The two dismounted and
entered the saloon to a sight of gambling and loose women. Ray and Stan
both felt intense frustration. 

 Tim sat in a chair near the door. When he looked up and saw his
adversaries, he poked Meg in the side. She looked down at him and smiled
sweetly. "I have some business," he explained, pushing her from his lap.
Tim then nodded at Jim across the table who pushed a girl off his lap
before standing. 

 Tim stepped up to Ray and Stan running his fingers through his hair. "We
got a job for you two," Tim said as Jim joined him. 

 Stan grabbed Tim, but Ray pulled him off. "Where is he?" Ray inquired. 

 Jim shook his head. "Rumor is, that new sheriff of yours has sent for
Judge Welsh. You two are going to go convince the judge not to come." 

 Now even angrier, Stan jumped Jim and knocked him to the ground. Tim
remained calm, speaking to Ray as Jim landed a punch on Stan. "You might
not want to piss us off. We're not telling you where we put the sheriff
until you've cooperated." 

 "Stan, get off," Ray said. When Stan went to hit Jim again, Ray yelled
firmly. "Stan! Get off!" 

 Stan reluctantly agreed and Tim helped his partner to his feet. Tim
smiled with a grin that made Ray's stomach churn. "Now," Tim said gently.
"You want to free that man and those two ladies or shall we just let them
die?" 

 Stan growled. Ray remained calm, not letting his anger show. "You think
this can last? You think it makes a difference if you got things back in
your control for one night? We leave this town and maybe we go for backup.
Maybe we come back, do what you want, and when we've got Sheriff Fraser
back, we come after you again. How about that?" 

 Tim chuckled defiantly and Jim stood straight. "Yeah, how about that?
Maybe we start shooting down the ladies and farmers one by one. Maybe we
start by killing you. What you two deputies don't seem to get is that
we're not giving up on this one. You caught Jerrard drunk, that wasn't
hard to do. You caught us lapsing on our duties, okay, but we'll do
everything necessary to get our town back and you can be sure we won't let
our guard down again. Why don't you think about that and get back to us
when you're ready to save a few lives." 

 Stan responded by spitting on Tim's boots. Tim didn't flinch. He touched
his hat and nodded his head, then passed the pair and went into the
street, Jim close behind. Once outside, Tim waited until Jim walked beside
him. "Well? What d'you think?" 

 Jim smiled. "We got 'em exactly where we want 'em." 

 Tim agreed and the two mounted their horses before riding out to the edge
of town. There they found household they sought. Tim took position beside
the door, his gun cocked and pointed at the stars. Jim readied his gun,
knocked, and moved to the other side of the door. The two waited, watching
as the sole occupant moved aside the lace curtain and looked out. Seeing
nothing, she opened the door and stepped out, only to be immediately taken
into the custody of the two men. 

 Francesca got out half a scream before she was gagged. Though struggling,
her two assailants were able to bind her. Jim took Francesca on his horse
and the two mounts with riders rode into the dust, heading east. 

 9
 Fraser worked at the knots, feeling the two girls shivering. Both
remained strong, however, not squealing or even speaking. Finally freeing
the ropes, he unwrapped the two women and helped them to their feet.
Taking a moment to lower the light in the lantern to save valuable oxygen,
Benton wished he'd worn some sort of jacket or coat to offer the women.
"Are you all right?" 

 Both nodded solemnly, then Seana spoke. "Are we going to die?" 

 Fraser looked into her eyes a moment. He couldn't share with her the very
real possibility, but he couldn't lie. Instead he walked over to where the
water dripped into the cavern. "It seems to be fresh water. We might need
it to keep from dehydrating." Motioning them to follow, he made his way
along the cavern and around the corner. 

 Ellen gasped when she saw the wall of rock. "We'll never get out," she
murmured. 

 Taking a moment to reassure her, Benton stopped beside the wall and began
looking at the configuration. "It will be unsteady, but we can do it." 

 Seana and Ellen looked skeptical. "You mean move all those rocks, one by
one?" 

 Benton nodded. "It won't be as big a chore as it appears. If we just use
teamwork, I believe we can manage." He paused, watching them wrap their
arms around themselves, trying to warm up. "In addition, moving around
will help us keep warm. We'll work up some warmth in the cave to aid us as
well." 

 The women nodded, indicating they would do their best to help. Benton
began moving the smaller rocks near the top of the mine, tossing them
away. The ladies took what they could in their aprons and moved them to
the far side. When Benton needed help with larger rocks, they would work
together. The rest of the time, the women moved the rocks out of the way. 

 Having dug through several feet, Seana began to seem nervous. "How much
more? Will we run out of air?" 

 Benton tugged at his ear. "The cavern is large and there is quite a bit
of space." He paused. "We have to keep working." He looked at the
exhausted women. They wanted out and to help, but both could barely keep
moving. Benton let out a long breath. They wouldn't make it if they didn't
keep working. 

 "They're exhausted, though, Son. They're no good to you at this rate." 

 Benton spun from the wall of rock and turned to see his father. The man
had died at the hand of a vigilante years ago, but he was certain he saw
the man. Benton made a quick mental check, making sure he was not overly
exhausted. He looked confused at the image of his father he saw. 

 "It's me, son. Don't you recognize your father?" 

 Benton ran his thumbnail along his brow. "Perhaps you ladies should go
back in the corner and get some rest. I can handle this for a while. If
you lay beside each other, it will help you keep warm." He smiled gently
and, once they were out of view, he began to whisper. "I recognize you,
Dad, but you shouldn't be here." 

 "Not with my son?! What kind of greeting is that?" 

 "Greeting, Dad? You're dead." 

 "I know that, son. I thought I taught you not to waste time pointing out
the obvious." 

 Benton cleared his throat. He finally decided his mind was playing tricks
and ignored the rambling older man. "You could go help keep them warm, you
know. That Ellen is a widow. She's certainly young enough to give me
grandchildren." 

 'Oh good God,' Benton thought to himself in a tone he would never dream
of using out loud. 'Even in death the man's insisting on grandchildren.'
"It isn't as though I have anything against children," Benton explained
finally. 

 "Is it a wife you have a problem with? You know, son, they take good care
of you and..." 

 Benton cleared his throat again. "I really have a lot to do. If you
aren't going to help me move rock, perhaps you should leave." 

 "Is that any way to treat your father?" 

 "Is that any way to treat your son?" 

 "Fair enough." 

 Benton went back to moving rock until he felt exhausted. He looked down
at the ground and noticed it had become slightly slippery and wet.
Concerned, he walked around to where the water fell. A large puddle was on
the ground, but the area where the women had gone to lay down was elevated
and they remained dry. Benton stayed near the wall and walked over to
them. 

 Realizing that the best way for them to conserve their body heat was to
stay near, he closed his eyes and moved close to them. As he placed his
arms around them, he tried not to think about the inappropriateness and
concentrate on survival. 

 10
 Ray stepped into the house, Stan close behind. They'd decided to discuss
their options there so that Stan could see his fiance and Ray could relax
in his own home. 

 Ray hung his gun belt near the door, then looked into the parlor. A
candle flickered lightly and the wax dripped from the platter onto the
table. Furrowing his brow, he glanced at Stan, then looked around for
other light in the house. There was no sign of any. "Did Francesca mention
anything to you about going out tonight?" 

 Stan shook his head, moved across the room to pick up the candle, then
used the flame to light another candle which he handed to Ray. The two
separated. Ray went upstairs and Stan covered the main floor. The two met
again at the back door. It was obvious from just the look on their faces
that neither had found her. 

 "It's a bit chilly out there, but her wrap is still on her bed." 

 "What about the shawl I gave her last month?" Stan asked. 

 Ray pointed and Stan held up the light to see it hung on a hook by the
door into the kitchen. He swallowed. Stan let out nervous air, breathing
the words "Oh god." 

 Ray stood a moment. His sister was missing. She was the only family he
had left after the cholera outbreak last year. Now she was missing. The
disappearance stank of Tim and Jim. Grabbing his gun belt and a coat, Ray
went back outside. Stan blew out the candles and followed him. 

 "The cowboys," Stan said offhand. 

 Ray stopped and looked angry. "What!?" The man rambled about cowboys when
only God knew what was happening to his sister, not to mention his boss
and two innocent women. 

 "The cowboys. I think we should get those cowhands to help us out.
They've been staying out of trouble and they haven't picked sides. If we
can get them on our side without letting on to anyone, we'll have an ace
in the hole." 

 Ray grunted. It seemed a good suggestion. A little undercover work was
just what they needed and there were few other options. He let out a long
breath. "Yeah. Let's do that. Let's just hope we can trust them. They gone
back to the bunkhouse tonight?" 

 Stan nodded and the two changed course, heading back to the bunkhouse
which sat on the east side of town near the blacksmith. 

 Two hours later, the men exited the bunkhouse, their heads bowed. 

 11
 Fraser woke slightly groggy with no clue as to time. Normally a glance at
the sunlight would orient him, but there was nothing to use for judgment
here. Shifting slowly, he noticed the two women were not beside him
anymore. He listened, hearing their movement around the corner. Standing,
he had to walk through the muddy, slippery puddle to get to them. When he
saw the two women moving skirts full of rock to the other end, he found
himself surprised. 

 Their petticoats showed, as did the stress on their faces, but he tried
not to notice the heeled boots, dainty ankles. He stopped himself quickly
as he imagined legs. It was too much for him when he wasn't used to seeing
such things. He was more than a bit taken aback at how they'd taken
charge, letting him sleep. These women were stronger than he normally
expected, but he quickly assumed that the strength was due to the
situation. 

 Stepping up behind them, he noticed the mud caked to their boots and the
reddened hands. Their fingers grasped rock slowly, both cold and sore from
the work. Still they persisted. They'd made noticeable progress in his
absence. 

 Benton didn't say a word, only began taking handfuls of rocks and passing
them into Seana's dress. Before long he'd created a large crawlspace into
which he climbed and began handing rocks back to the women. 

 Occasionally, the dehydrated group would pause and take drinks from the
dripping cavern. As the water finally reached ankle high, Benton had to
help Ellen inside the crawlspace with him and begin a line. He'd pass the
rocks to her, she'd pass them to Seana, Seana would move them out to the
growing pile at the other end of the mine. 

 The three were hungry, but to keep their minds off of things, the ladies
learned about Benton's father; a marshal killed in the line of duty. They
learned about his previous positions and the fact that he'd been sent to
Gochick more as punishment than anything else. 

 In turn, Benton learned about the widow Ellen's husband. Too young to be
a widow, he noted, she'd lost her husband to the cholera outbreak last
year. Ray had told him that was how he'd lost most of his family also. It
saddened him to see so much family lost. 

 Seana was married to a farmer just out of town, he learned, and the pair
had only recently moved there. 

 It wasn't what he learned that Benton enjoyed, however. It was more about
getting to know these people. He'd turned the town from something fearful
to something safe in a matter of a couple of days. He knew now why he had
done it. It wasn't just about his own desires to see people receive
consequences. The good deserved to have good things, the bad deserved to
lose privileges. More than all of that, these people needed someone to
believe in; someone with the courage to help beyond all obstacles. This
was an obstacle. They would get out, they would carry on. 

 Benton listened carefully to the women and the sounds in the cavern. It
seemed all at once that he heard an echo. Something had shifted on the
other side of their rock barrier and he could hear that they were easily 5
feet from being through. One other wall at the entrance and they'd be
free. In his excitement, he didn't notice how exhausted the women had
become again. 

 12
 The dark skinned cowboy took a swig from a bottle of whisky and handed it
to a redheaded cowboy. The third, a white man with dark hair turned to the
other man at the table and placed two cards in the deadwood at the center
of the table. 

 The dealer passed two cards to him and then dealt his own. 

 "You know, Huey," the redhead began. "I heard the town was cleaned up
while we were on that last haul." 

 The black man nodded. "Yup. I heard the same thing." He turned to the
dark haired one. "Sure don't look that way now, though, does it, Dewey?" 

 Dewey shook his head. "Would have been a real shame if this place'd
become respectable. What'd we do to relax if there was nothing to do?" 

 The redhead placed his bet and began to whistle. He watched the others
place bets, raise, and finally Dewey folded. The redhead stopped whistling
and shook his head. "You know, I'd sure like to know who got this place
back to normal. Thank the man and buy him a bottle." 

 "Yeah, Louie. I'd sure like to buy him one too." 

 The dealer smiled. "I'd sure appreciate that," he said. "Seein' as how me
and Tim got rid of them do-gooders." 

 "What about everyone else? I hear some of them's in jail and I sure ain't
seen any of my favourite gals around here." Louie asked. 

 "Same here," Dewey agreed. "Kim, Rebecca. They're no where to be found.
Saw Meg and Icecat earlier, though." 

 "Only picked up the ones he actually saw breakin' the law," the dealer
explained. "Picked up quite a few girls that way. Actually, you should be
seein' all the girls soon enough. Broke everyone out earlier today." He
chuckled and held out a hand. "I saw you boys in town from time to time,
but we've never met. I'm Jim." 

 Huey shook Jim's hand. "I'm Huey. Those two are Dewey and Louie." He
pointed to the other men respectively. "We'll buy you that bottle now."
Raising his hand he flagged down a waitress. Jim had never noticed her
before, but assumed she was a new one. She was lovely, he decided, and
considered asking her to join him later. 

 "Hey, boys. My name's Lys," she introduced herself. 

 "Hey, Lys," Huey said, smiling. 

 Lys smiled in return. "What can I do for you boys?" she asked sweetly,
behaving as though she were working for a big tip. 

 "We'll take another bottle of whisky for this gentleman." Louie jumped
in. 

 Lys nodded. "Sure." 

 Dewey looked up at her, winked and touched his nose. Lys winked back and
discreetly touched the side of her nose with her finger before setting a
beer bottle on her tray and leaving. 

 13
 Jim looked at his cards a moment, then took a drink from the bottle the
cowboys had bought just for him. It was half gone now and he was beginning
to feel lightheaded, but continued. He knew he could handle his booze.
They'd been playing poker for hours now and he was beginning to desire
lunch. The boys generously offered him the food, ordered from Lys. After
eating, his head began to fuzz. 

 "So," Huey began. "What about all them's that are in jail?" 

 "We've got a plan to handle that," Jim offered loosely. 

 "Oh?" 

 "Sure," he replied. "We tried breakin' in, but it don't seem possible.
Dynamite'd kill someone and those boys took the keys with 'em. Stone walls
all 'round the cells. That place is a fortress." 

 "So what're you gonna do?" 

 Jim opened his mouth, then closed it. He realized he'd been sharing far
too much information so he concentrated intently on his cards. "We just
have a plan, that's all." 

 Dewey and Louie glanced at each other. They took another drink from their
beers, having already had their bottle of whisky. Huey placed his cards in
the pile. "I fold. Gonna go stretch my legs." 

 The others nodded and continued their game as Huey left the saloon. 

 "So," Dewey pressed. "Don't suppose we could get in on the action." 

 "What d'ya mean?" Jim asked. 

 "Well, I was just thinkin' that if we could get in on the action, the
breakout maybe, well, we'd be heroes just like you an' Tim." 

 Jim shook his head. "We got all the men we need." 

 Louie frowned. "Sure, but everybody knows who your men are, right? I
mean, don't you think them deputies'll be keeping an eye on your boys?" 

 Jim shrugged. 

 Dewey set his cards on the table. "I think what he's sayin' is that we
could go under cover. We could pretend to be on their side and find out
their plans so you can stay a step ahead." 

 Jim considered it a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, yeah. We could do that." 

 "Only thing is," Louie added, "we gotta know what your plans are so we'll
know when they're on to you and we can lead them the opposite direction." 

 Jim paused. Huey hadn't returned and a nervous Jim turned to Louie.
"Where'd your friend go?" 

 Louie shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe I should go find
him." 

 Jim shook his head. "No need." 

 Dewey shrugged. "I dunno. Not like him. Maybe you'd better. With all
that's going on around here, we'd better be on the safe side." 

 "Yeah," Louie agreed and stood. "You know, maybe now'd be a good time to
get on board with you, ya know? I could go out there and find Huey and
maybe find out where Ray and Stan are right now. What d'you think?" 

 Dewey nodded. "Good idea. So let's get the plans first." 

 Jim took a deep breath. "What about that dark skinned fella. Can we trust
him to be on our side?" 

 "Of course," Louie replied. "He's more upset about them cleanin' up this
town than the rest of us. He came here just so he wouldn't have people
lookin' over his shoulder all the time." 

 Dewey agreed and leaned closer to Jim. Louie leaned in as well. "We won't
tell a soul." 

 Jim nodded and began to speak. 

 14
 Fraser finally broke through into the outer cavern. Releasing a sigh of
relief, the women, both now inside the crawlspace, turned to him. They saw
the opening and smiled. "We're almost free!" Ellen exclaimed. 

 Benton nodded. "The rocks blocking the entrance are not nearly so thick.
We should get through there with no problems." He looked back at the
previous cavern. "I think we should go back and get drinks before we move
on, though." 

 The women agreed. Stepping into the water, they sloshed to where the
cavern leaked the fresher water, filled their mouths, and spat. This
moistened them without allowing them to get water logged. Too much water
would make them sick and, therefore, useless. Benton helped the women back
into the crawlspace, then followed them through. 

 The part he avoided mentioning now that escape seemed a reality was that
it would be a long hike back down the mountainside and several miles into
town. They were hardly safe yet.  "They took Francesca someplace 'safe',"
Huey said quietly to Ray. "Apparently they're planning to keep her until
you go stop the judge from coming. Meanwhile, they've got Benton and those
women trapped in the Shakiba mine. They'll die of starvation before you
can get back so they'll have their way in the end. He'll still be dead and
the judge'll still not come." 

 Shakiba, one of the first mines, had been started by a man named Jameson
who was completely devoted to his wife. In honour of her, he had named the
mine after her. 

 "Why are they so intent on stopping Judge Welsh from coming here? When
the judge sees this place, he'll hightail it back like he always has.
Besides, that's only if he shows up. Just because our new sheriff dropped
him a line doesn't mean he'll bite. Judge Welsh would be happy if everyone
here just killed each other and be done with it." 

 Huey shrugged. "Jerrard heard that there's a complication." 

 Ray furrowed his brow. "Meaning?" 

 "Welsh's niece, Marilea, has a heavy thing for Mr. Fraser. She's living
with the judge now so, if she hears wind he's asking for a judge, she'll
talk him into coming. Welsh'll do anything for her since she moved in with
him. He spoils her rotten." 

 Ray nodded. "So where are they keeping Francesca?" 

 Huey shrugged. "I don't know. Louie and Dewey've gone back to work on
him, try to find out. All they got out of him is that they were heading
toward the blacksmith - east out of town." 

 Ray nodded. "All right. Sounds like we're best off to wait a bit longer,
then tell them we'll go stop the judge. You three try to get in and keep
an eye on Francesca and we'll come pick her up. Just so they believe
you're on their side, explain to them that we're going to talk to the
judge and we're comin' by in a couple hours to tell them that and that
they should make you scarce so we don't know you're working with them;
that's why they should let you watch Frannie. Got it?" 

 "Well, there's more." Huey added. "They haven't been able to break into
the jail yet, but while you're gone to talk to the judge, they're figurin'
they'll have plenty of time to break in and let everyone out." 

 Ray shook his head. "Damn." He looked deep in thought. "Nothin' we can do
about that. More important I get my sister back and go help the sheriff.
Let's just stick to the plan, ok? You meet us by Lucy by dusk, got it?" 

 Huey nodded. Lucy was a good place to meet - an ancient tree outside of
town. A recognizable landmark, it stood amongst the privacy of trees. 

 Ray met up with Stan and filled him in on the plans. The pair went back
to the jail to check on everything, taking snipes from Jen and a few other
girls before being satisfied. They took rifles and ammunition, strapped
them to their horses, then went to the bar. 

 "All right, Jim," Ray said to the half drunk man. "We'll do it. We're
riding out now to go stop the judge. If we do this, you'll free my sister
and the sheriff, right?" 

 Jim stood. "On my honour." 

 Stan cringed. They already knew at least half of that was a lie, but
played into the hand. As soon as they were out of sight, Jim wandered up
the stairs. 

 Approaching one door, he heard the sounds of pleasure. He considered
waiting, but knew there wasn't time to fool around. He knocked. 

 "Go away," came the male voice on the other side, then a giggle from the
female. 

 "It's Jim and it's important," Jim insisted. 

 "Damn!" Jim heard, then several moments of rustling before the door swung
open. Wrapped in a blanket on the bed sat Meg and before him, with a
growl, Tim was buttoning his denims. 

 Jim cleared his throat. "Ray and Stan just left to go talk to the judge
and I got a couple men headed out to watch the Vecchio woman and relieve
the others." 

 "Couple men? Who'd ya send?" 

 "Them cattle rustlers volunteered to help us out." 

 "They loyal?" 

 "They're sure upset this place was about to go clean. I played cards with
them all afternoon and I trust 'em." 

 Tim nodded. "All right. That frees up a couple men to help over at the
jail. Let's get to work." 

 Jim agreed and made his way back down the stairs. Tim grabbed his shirt
and guns from the corner of the bed before following. 

 15
 As the boys came upon Old Lucy, they noticed the grass moving.
Dismounting at a safe distance, they drew their weapons and separated,
converging on the source of the noise. The giggling which arose from the
long grasses surprised Stan who froze. Ray crept slightly closer and
pointed his gun at the young couple laying in the grass. Seeing that it
was a harmless pair, he dropped the weapon. 

 "Samuel?" Stan said when he saw the man stand up. He watched a blushing
Samuel reach out his hand and immediately recognized the woman. "Janice?
What are you two doing out here?" 

 Janice shifted looked sheepishly, avoiding eye contact as she answered.
"I really don't think you want me to answer that." 

 Stan nodded and put his gun back into its holster. "You're right. You two
get back to town and don't tell anyone you saw us out here, all right?" 

 Janice frowned. "Why not?" 

 "Just don't," Ray added. "It's too complicated to explain and could put
you both in danger." 

 With a smile, Janice glanced at Samuel then back at Ray. "Danger? You two
are going to save the sheriff and take care of Jerrard and his allies,
right?" 

 Ray looked at Stan. Stan thought a moment, then replied. "Don't worry,
we've got it under control." 

 Samuel took Janice by the arm. "What can we do to help?" he asked. 

 Stan scratched his neck. "Go back to town and pretend you didn't see us."


 "Oh, get off it," Janice jumped in. "They've got more men than you. Hell,
even if the two of you go one on one with Jerrard, Tim, and Jim you are
still outnumbered." 

 Stan couldn't argue. He couldn't tell them that they had cowboys on their
side, but it was true that they would be outnumbered if Tim and Jim had
backup. Still, it was dangerous to have people showing up in town with
weaponry. Pretty soon, the bad faction would get nervous and too many
people would be hurt. 

 All at once, however, a plan formulated in his mind. "You know, you can
be of some help. If Samuel can get a few men together, that would help,
but if they all show up brandishing weapons, it'll look suspicious." 

 "So what do we do?" Samuel asked as Ray looked at Stan, wondering what
was in the fool man's mind. 

 "Janice, you'll get together a few women and they'll carry the weapons.
They won't expect a bunch of ladies to have anything more than tiny
handguns. Can you do that?" 

 Janice nodded. "I know a couple women who'll be dying to help out. We'll
wait for you in town." 

 "We should be back by morning, but don't tell anyone that. Be there
shortly after dawn and try to keep a low profile. From there you'll just
serve as backup," Stan explained. 

 Ray nodded his agreement as Janice and Samuel nodded their understanding.
The two went arm in arm back toward town. 

 Ray and Stan moved beside the tree where they were to meet their
contacts. They had to wait another hour before the cowboys finally rode
up. Louie immediately dismounted and approached Stan. "Ok, we're supposed
to relieve a couple of Tim's men. They've got a hideout out there on the
Circle J Ranch. They place it on the south side. We'll go relieve them and
wait for you there." 

 Stan nodded. Ray adjusted his gun belt. "Good, good. You and Huey will
stay there and say that Dewey's taken Frannie for a walk, just in case
anyone shows, all right?" 

 Louie nodded. 

 "From there we'll bypass town up on the north ridge and head to the mines
while Dewey rides to Glass Rock and gets Judge Welsh to come out this way
and bring some assistance to help us keep things in line," Stan pointed
out. 

 "Yeah, we'll need all the help we can get," Ray stated, then continued
before Louie could ask any more questions. He felt it best the cowboys
didn't worry about the details at this point. "Meanwhile we'll get the
sheriff, Ellen, and Seana freed, we hope, and head back to town. You'll
have to ride hard and get back immediately. We'll have to handle things at
dawn, but if you push yourself, you can have the judge back by tomorrow
night." 

 Louie nodded, mounted, and rode away with his boys. Ray and Stan moved
toward the pond less than a mile from the tree. They refreshed themselves
and checked their weapons once more before following the way of the
cowboys. 

 16
 Benton was beginning to see very dim light through the cracks between
rocks. He passed a few to Ellen. Ellen passed them to Seana. When they saw
the light coming through, they felt relaxed and relieved, but they were
still exhausted. They'd been at the tedious work for hours. 

 Working until there was just enough room to slip through, Benton handed
Ellen the last of the rocks. He jumped through into the fresh air and
breathed deeply before turning and helping Ellen, then Seana, from the
crawlspace created at the entrance to the mine. 

 Both women breathed deeply also. Fresh air never smelled so good to
either of them, but they were still starving and thirsty. Fraser heard a
murmuring and perked his ears. The first order of business was to follow
his ears to the spring he heard dribbling into a creek. The water would be
fresher than anything they'd had in days, fresher than well water, even.
While he walked, the women following, he wondered how he would manage to
find food for the three. 

 They came upon the water and cleaned their hands and faces as they drank.
The women sat weakened against nearby boulders. Fraser had to admit to
being weak also. He ached with hunger. He looked at the women for a long
time before realizing something. It would be dangerous for a woman to go
into town by herself unprepared. He'd never seen them disarmed. Taking a
breath, he looked back and forth between them. 

 "Do either of you have some sort of protection? A small gun perhaps?" 

 Seana shook her head, but Ellen glanced at Seana, then reached in her
boot. She pulled out a very small knife and handed it to Fraser. "I'm not
sure it could do any good." 

 Fraser looked at it a moment. He wasn't sure either, but at least it was
something. "You two wait here." 

 Nearly an hour passed and the sky was very dark before Benton returned.
The women used the small knife to remove the fur coats from the two
squirrels Benton had caught as if removing jackets from tiny babies.
Meanwhile, Benton was forced to use rocks and tinder to build a fire. A
spark finally caught and he gently blew on it until they had something to
use for warmth and cooking. 

 After the three had devoured the squirrels, Benton found a clearing with
high grasses where they could rest. He only let them rest an hour,
however, explaining that it was better to travel by night than get burned
in the daytime sun. Soon they were one their way. 

 17
 "Jim sent us to keep an eye on the girl," Dewey said firmly. 

 "You're Jim's men?" the man at the door asked. 

 Huey nodded. "Got the three of us to relieve you so you can get back into
town and help them out, I guess. We're going to be here all night." 

 The man nodded. "All right. I'm glad they sent someone. I was getting'
pretty tired and Edgy in there can't wait to get back. They sent us out
with some extra horses just in case. If you need them, you'll find them
out back. We'll see you boys 'round town." 

 "Yup," Louie agreed, taking a seat at the door as Huey and Dewey went
inside. Louie watched the men leave and, once out of sight, he joined the
others inside. There he saw Francesca Vecchio laying curled into a ball on
some hay in the corner. She slept, though restlessly, and the boys let her
sleep. 

 It wasn't too long before they heard a soft knock at the door. Ray
stepped inside first, then Stan rushed past and knelt beside Francesca. He
pushed the hair from her face and she woke slowly. Seeing him, she smiled
and sat up quickly. 

 "Are you ok?" Stan asked immediately. Frannie nodded. "Where's the
sheriff?" 

 "They got him too," Ray said, helping his sister to her feet. "We have to
get going so we can get him out before they figure out you're gone." Ray
turned to Huey. "We'll take your mounts with us." 

 "They left a couple extra horses out back in case we needed to take her
anywhere or someone came upon us and stole our horses. Why don't you take
those instead?" 

 Stan nodded. "Francesca, you'll ride with me so we can keep the spare
horses fresh. They'll be carrying three more people between two horses
when we find them so they'll need their strength." 

 Francesca nodded her understanding as they quickly explained their plans
to her. Stan put her on his horse, then jumped behind her, half seated on
the cantle. Ray waved Dewey to his destination before leading the way
north of town. 

 Riding over the ridge was rough on the horses, especially with the extra
load on Stan's horse. 

 "Stanley," Francesca said as they approached a sandy area where the horse
hooves tread quietly. 

 "Yes, dear?" 

 "Never mind." 

 Stan was quiet a moment, contemplating what she may have wanted to say.
"If you lean back against me, you could take a little nap," he said
finally. 

 Francesca shook her head. 

 "Is something bothering you?" 

 Francesca nodded. He watched her soft hair bounce gently and took a deep
breath of her. 

 "You know, maybe I can help." 

 Francesca didn't move for a moment. When she finally spoke, Stan's heart
sank into his boots. "I don't think I want to get married." 

 Stan couldn't speak. Finally the silence worried Francesca and she spoke
again. "I mean, I don't think I'm ready yet. Perhaps later." 

 "Perhaps later you'll want to marry me or perhaps later you'll want to
get married?" 

 Francesca turned her head, then faced forward again, bowing her chin into
her neck. "I don't know." 

 Stan took a breath. "Why don't we start with what made you decide you
don't want to get married." 

 "I didn't decide. I just said I didn't think I wanted to. I haven't made
any decisions," she paused before quietly adding, "yet." 

 Stan looked ahead at Ray. He continued on his way, not looking back at
them. Stan leaned closer to Francesca's ear. "Something must have made you
think about changing your mind." 

 Francesca let out a long breath. "I just haven't done enough living," she
said. 

 "Living? I don't know what you mean." 

 "I mean, it was sort of expected of me to marry you. No one really asked
me what I wanted. Ray certainly didn't give me much choice. He may get
frustrated by you, but he thinks you'd be good to me. Besides, he doesn't
trust too many men in town to be with me. He only trusted you until......"
She stopped herself. 

 "Until?" he asked, then realized what she meant and finished her thought.
"Until Sheriff Benton Fraser, eternal good guy and stealer of hearts
walked into town." 

 "I didn't say that," she said quietly. 

 "No, but you meant it." Stan felt a little upset, but he couldn't be. If
she wasn't certain she wanted to marry him, he didn't want her to. The
last thing he wanted for Francesca was to make her unhappy. 

 "Please don't be upset," she said. "It's not so much about the sheriff as
the fact that I realized I was about to go from taking care of my brother
to taking care of a husband. I need to figure out who I am first." 

 Stan couldn't blame her. It was the world in which they lived. Women
hardly got a chance to think about what they wanted before they were
handed off to husbands. Most women who dared venture from that cycle ended
up whores at the saloon. Not many made it into other occupations and the
opportunities were limited. He knew that consciously, but it didn't change
his mind about women. Getting married and raising families had been good
enough for generations of his family. Who was he, or Francesca for that
matter, to question it. 

 "So, what are you going to do?" he asked after letting the silence build
through his thoughts. 

 "I'm not sure. It's not really important. Only important thing is that I
explore everything until I find what I like." 

 Stan nodded, then gently kissed her ear. "You just be careful out there,"
he added. "It's a scary world." 

 Francesca nodded again and Stan watched her hair bounce. He realized it
was likely his last chance to partake of her sight, smells, and details
which he'd fallen in love with. Letting out a long breath, he watched the
rocks on the hills, trying not to think about the loss he would surely
feel in the morning after this was all over. 

 18
 The blacksmith looked into the pouch of gold coins and smiled. "Yeah, I
think it's possible. I've got a spike and it may take some time to break
through the locks, but it can be done." 

 Tim nodded. "Well, then, we'll see you over at the jail in ten minutes." 

 The blacksmith closed the door behind Tim, then hurried down the stairs
through the back entrance into his shop. He gathered his paraphernalia and
went to the front door. He rushed out into the night air and to the
sheriff's office. Setting the spike in place, he began to pound with a
large metal hammer. The lock was stubborn. He had to shift the spike and
hammer several times before he could even see the progress. The locks
began to bend out of shape. 

 Jim leaned against the bars of the cell. "So, Kim." He paused, thinking.
"Bet you can't wait to get out of here." 

 Kim smiled. "I can't. Trapped with a bunch of women for 2 days? I'm ready
for some male companionship." 

 Jim cleared his throat. "Too bad we've got work to do after we let you
all out." 

 Kim reached through the bars and ran her finger along his shirt pocket.
"Too bad." 

 Jim straightened. "Well, I know at least one cowboy who's been missing
you... and Rebecca." 

 Rebecca, her ears perking at her name, stepped up behind Kim. "Oh
really?" 

 "Sure, Dewey made mention earlier today about the two of you, in fact." 

 "Dewey?" Rebecca said, looking surprised. 

 Jim shifted. "Yeah. That's news to you, I take it." 

 As Rebecca moved beside Kim, she placed her hands on the bars. "Well, he
orders drinks from me periodically, but he never... partakes of the
valuables," she said, adding a wink at the end. 

 Jim furrowed his brow. "Then why'd he say you're a favourite? You and
Kim?" he asked. 

 Kim shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, Jim. He's the straightest
cowboy, which is saying a lot because those other two are pretty clean
too." 

 Jim rested a hand on the bars and glanced at Tim. Tim was impatiently
watching the blacksmith work the lock. Jim turned back to Kim. "When you
say clean, what exactly do you mean?" 

 Rebecca frowned. "Well, they just don't do anything out of line, ya know.
Come in for food and drinks and to watch us serving the food and drinks
and they watch the dancing, but that's about it." 

 Jim ran his fingers through his hair. "You mean they don't gamble either,
don't you?" 

 Rebecca nodded. 

 "How could I have been so stupid? I played cards with them all afternoon
and assumed I knew them. Damn fool thing to do," he said, then stepped
over to Tim, speaking softly into his ear. "Tim, we have a problem." 

 19
 Fraser jumped down from a boulder and turned, giving the women a hand for
support as they hopped down. The bright pearl-like moon lit the ground and
he surveyed their next steps. Listening to the creek running nearby, he
heard that it rounded a corner. 

 Knowing that the creek ran just a mile from town, he decided to follow
its route, keeping them also near refreshment. He moved with caution,
listening quietly for danger. One step and he heard a disturbing sound
break through the silence. The ladies froze in their steps and looked to
Fraser. The rattling they heard could only be one thing. 

 "Don't move," Fraser whispered, then reached slowly into his pocket for
the small knife he had kept for future hunting. Not moving his feet,
Fraser looked slowly into the shadow. The light flashed quickly off the
rattle and Benton had to use it to estimate where the rest of the snake
lay in its coil. The light flashed off its head as it moved very slowly so
he could see where it was. 

 Just as he firmed his grip on the knife, preparing to throw it, he heard
a rustle behind the snake. If another snake sat behind this one, he'd get
a venomous bite from the hidden one in anger. He took a moments pause to
calculate a solution, but just then, something jumped from the bush and
bit into the snake. 

 Watching the silhouette of the lupine, the women took a step back. They
feared the wolf would come for them next. Instead, it placed a paw on the
body, deftly sank it's teeth just behind the jaw of the serpent, and
yanked it's head away. As soon as it had finished it's work, the head
dropping to the ground, then the animal stepped close to them and leaned
his head against the male human. Benton squatted. "Thank you," he said to
the animal, then rolled his eyes at the fact he'd spoken to it. 

 "Wroof," it replied, then added a tiny whine. 

 The women relaxed. "Is it safe?" Ellen asked. 

 "Appears so," their trusty sheriff replied. "He seems unusually tame." 

 "Certainly unusual," Seana replied. "Just a couple of weeks ago a cougar
attacked my husband." 

 "He appears to be a wolf, but with much more tame characteristics,"
Benton added casually. He patted the animal atop its head, then reached
out and picked up the snake's body. 

 Ellen looked disgusted, but Fraser saw another meal. He held it as they
moved nearer the creek, then crouched to build a fire before peeling the
skin from the snake to prepare it for eating. Seana watched the animal and
tossed a few small pieces to the ravenous animal which had saved them.
Ellen soon followed with some of hers and Benton held out a piece on his
fingers. The lupine looked for a moment, then took it in his mouth as
though trained and waited for a rewarding rub. Fraser obliged. 

 After the meal, they took a short rest. The moon had disappeared beneath
the horizon and the sun had not made any appearance yet. The sky was too
dark now to travel so they waited for the morning. 

 Eventually the sun encroached on their rest. Benton sat up and found the
wolf sprawled along Seana's body, his backbone tracing her side. The
animal opened his eyes, looking at him and Benton could swear for a split
second that he saw a smile cross that lupine's face. Getting up, the wolf
jumped to stand beside Fraser. Squatting again, the sheriff looked into
his new companion's eyes. "You'll need a name if you're going to follow
us. How about Dief?" The wolf whined and rested his chin on Benton's knee.
"Dief it is," Benton said and the wolf jumped, adding a happy whimper. 

 The rocky walls had made it slow going, but it appeared to Benton as
though they were now over the worst parts. He was concerned about exposing
them all to the sun, but he was also anxious to get back into town and
straighten everything out he knew must have taken place after he'd left. 

 20
 Stan searched his soul for something to say, but instead ended up riding
in silence. They made excellent time, passing the town and heading toward
the mines before the light of the moon escaped them. 

 "The best route is up along the creek," Ray stated. "What do you think,
Stan?" 

 "Yeah," Stan said, then went back to his thoughts. 

 Ray heard the melancholy in his partner's voice. He slowed his horse and
fell beside Stan. "Something wrong?" 

 Stan shook his head. Frannie turned a mournful eye on Ray. Raising his
eyebrows, Ray kept beside them. "You sure?" 

 "Yeah," Stan said quickly, cutting off Francesca. 

 Francesca cleared her throat and stiffened her back. "We're not getting
married," she stated rather simply. 

 Ray looked at Francesca who looked sad, but satisfied. He turned his
sights on Stan who looked frustrated, annoyed, and a little angry. "What'd
you do to her?" Ray asked immediately. 

 Stan pulled his reigns, bringing his horse and the one he led behind to a
stop. "Pardon?!" he asked, astounded at the brash assumption. 

 Ray stopped beside him. "I said, what'd you do?" 

 "It wasn't him, it was me," Frannie offered. 

 Ray jumped from his horse, Stan following the dismount. "What'd you do?!"
Ray repeated, adding a shove. 

 Francesca grabbed the pommel and glared at Ray. "Ray, you stop that!" 

 Stan held his ground. "Hey, look, it's none of your business, ok? We're
both adults and we both made the decision, got that?" Stan shoved Ray's
shoulder and Ray responded with a punch that sent Stan to the ground. Stan
flipped to his back and held his jaw. 

 Ray hovered threateningly over Stan. "I warned you. I told you if you
hurt her I'd kill you." 

 Stan locked his legs around Ray and yanked his feet from under him. In a
swift movement, he jumped on Ray and grabbed his shirt. Frannie jumped
from the horse and snatched Stan's collar, pulling back. Stan almost
choked and let out a grunt, but followed the shirt and got off Ray. 

 Ray sat up, turning an angry gaze on Stan. "I'll kill you." 

 Stan moved to his feet as Francesca moved in front of him. "Listen to me,
you idiot!" she yelled. "I'm the one who doesn't want to get married, all
right? I'm the one who broke it off. I hurt Stan, not the other way
around." 

 Ray finally let her voice sink in and moved slowly to his feet. Stan and
Frannie both kept an eye on him until he was firm on his feet. "Why
Francesca? Why would you do that? What'd he do to make you want..." 

 "Nothing!" she snapped, then took in a breath to relax herself. "Stan
didn't do anything. He's been great, but this isn't what I want. Can you
try to understand that?" 

 Ray shrugged his shoulders. "I don't, though. I thought marriage and kids
was what you looked forward to." 

 Frannie took Ray's arm and guided him a few feet away. Stan knew she
wanted to be alone with her brother so he checked the horses, busying
himself while they talked. 

 "What made you think that, Ray? Just because that's what most women have
doesn't mean it's what all women want." She saw the confusion in his eyes.
"I'm not saying I don't ever want it, ok? I just need to figure that out.
I need to see what else is out there for me. Can you support me? Can you
let me do that?" 

 Ray frowned, slowly nodding his head. "I have to. You're my sister and
that means I have to give you what you want." 

 Francesca smiled and kissed Ray lightly on the cheek. "Thank you, Ray,"
she said softly, then turned back to Stan, speaking loudly. "Well, we've
got about half an hour before we reach the creek and I could use a drink.
Should we press on?" 

 Stan nodded and mounted his horse. Francesca put her hand in Ray's elbow.
"Would it be all right if I rode with you now?" 

 Ray understood her completely and nodded before helping her onto his
horse. 

 21
 Benton moved with caution along the cliff edge. Ahead he could see where
the rock wall sloped down and they would be able to jump over the edge
without injury. Seana slipped and Benton was quick to grab her. The
unsteady rock led them away from the creek at a waterfall and the height
at that point was too great for them to climb down. Fraser couldn't help
wondering if there had been a better route, but found himself following
the wolf. 

 Dief had kept an eye on them throughout the morning. He'd warned Benton
early of a nest of scorpions and had discouraged a very young bear cub
from following them. 

 The sun neared its highest point in the sky and Benton wondered about
lunch. He led them along the ridge until they could climb over, then
headed back toward the creek. A moment later, Dief broke into a run. His
concerned followers watched, then Benton moved forward in the direction
Dief had gone. Soon they came upon a bush full of berries. Benton examined
them closely before picking one and tasting it. 

 Satisfied that it was good, he told the women to eat a few. As they ate,
Dief returned, bearing the gift of a rabbit. (Bunny, if you will. A rare
breed known as "plot") Benton wasn't sure they needed something as heavy
as meat, but he could see the animal had been injured and that, in all
honesty, Dief had probably put the poor animal out of it's misery. 

 Making a fire, the women watched it cook. They'd eaten several berries,
but feared eating too many would make them feel ill. As the meat began to
brown, Benton heard a noise and perked his ears. He stood slowly peering
toward the source of the sound. Recognizing a face all at once, he let out
a breath and smiled at the women. 

 "What is it?" Seana asked, standing beside him. 

 "I see Stan. I can only assume the other sound I hear is Ray with some
horses." 

 Ellen breathed a sigh of relief. Both women were terribly anxious to be
back to the safety and security of their homes. Ellen stood, the food
forgotten. She watched them approach and smiled herself when she saw her
good friend Francesca riding with Ray. 

 Before Francesca had a chance to get her bearings after dismounting,
Ellen wrapped her arms around the woman. "What are you doing here?" 

 "It's a very long story," Francesca replied, then glanced at the animal
stretched on a stick over the fire. Ellen moved back beside it and turned
the stick so that the other side could cook. 

 As the women sat around the fire cooking, Ray looked down at them. "We'll
be back in a few minutes. We need to fill in the sheriff here on what he's
missed." 

 Seana nodded and the men walked a few feet away. They didn't return until
the food was cooked and divided into small portions between the large
group. Francesca had filled the women in on her part while preparing the
food, but when the men joined the women, all was quiet. No one spoke as an
uncomfortable silence built. 

 Finally, when Stan had heard enough silence, he put down the bone in his
hand and looked to the women. "When we get back to town, we'd like you
three to find Janice. She'll provide you with weapons. You'll hold them
for the men until they need them. If there are more weapons than men,
you'll have to help." 

 "Stan," Fraser interrupted. "I'm not certain that starting a war of some
kind will accomplish the goals we have set for ourselves." 

 Stan let out a low growl. "Well, we had to make do after you took off on
that stagecoach, now didn't we?" 

 Fraser tugged his ear. "I couldn't very well let these women get
captured." 

 "You played right into their hands!" Stan argued. 

 "Perhaps, but that doesn't change the fact that innocent lives were
involved." 

 Ray snorted. "There're plenty of innocent lives in town if you're looking
for someone to save." 

 Fraser took in a deep breath. "Let's concentrate on the matter at hand." 

 "Yes, let's" Stan added, dripping sarcasm. "Before you get all uptight,
Sheriff, why don't we just think of the armed people in town as back up,
all right? We won't use them unless we have to." 

 Fraser nodded a reluctant agreement and finished his meat before setting
the bone on the ground. "Progress has been much slower than anticipated.
We won't get back into town until evening." 

 Ray nodded. "We hoped to be there by this morning, but that didn't
happen. For the best, I guess. Dewey might be back with the judge and some
assistance when we get there. Only one problem." 

 "Yeah?" Ellen jumped in. 

 "Huey and Louie. Someone'll be by to relieve them from watching Francesca
today. They'll be on to us by the time we reach town." 

 At that, they heard several clicking sounds and a voice. "We're on to you
now," Tim said, pointing a gun at Stan's head. As the group looked around,
they found guns pointing at all of them. 

 22
 In a show of abject humiliation, Tim sat behind the sheriff's desk
watching the blacksmith meld his newly repaired lock into place. Throwing
his feet on the desk, he threw a wink to Francesca. "So, what do you say
you dump that rubbish and come over to me?" he said, motioning at the men
behind bars. 

 Francesca glared. "I wouldn't come near you with an eleven foot pole." 

 Tim chuckled. "Don't you mean ten foot?" 

 Frannie looked annoyed. "Ten, eleven, ninety two. I still wouldn't touch
you with it." 

 "You'd rather marry one of them fools sittin' behind bars?" he asked,
leaning back in the chair. 

 "I'd rather marry a horse," she snapped. 

 Tim threw his head back and laughed. "A horse wouldn't be very good
company." 

 "Better company than the scum you are." Francesca spit at his feet. 

 In reaction, Tim jumped and grabbed her, wrapping an arm around her neck
and putting a gun barrel into the lower back of her skull. Francesca
swallowed, then found strength. "I'd also rather die." 

 Stan gulped. "Come on, Tim. Let her go." 

 Tim grabbed her jaw and spun her around, roughly turning her face into
the light. "You aren't pretty enough for me anyway," he said and shoved
her, causing her to fall. 

 Stan growled and made a threatening gesture of pulling a mock trigger at
Tim. Tim chuckled coldly. "From in there? Try it, big boy." 

 "You leave her alone," Ray jumped in now. The sound of horses nearing
rose from outside and Ray yelled to be heard. "You're a sick bastard!" 

 Tim ignored the man and turned to the window. "Ah, look. The rest of your
party has arrived." 

 Benton, Stan, and Ray all looked immediately out the window. In a moment,
the sight rode past their view. Four horses crossed the window, behind two
of them trailed rope. In another instant they saw that, at the end of the
rope, Huey and Louie were struggling to keep on their feet with clothes
already shredded as they'd been dragged. Tim growled and walked outside,
heading straight toward his men. 

 Francesca gasped and Stan looked away. "I'm tired of these sick pranks.
It's got to end." 

 Benton turned to Stan and Ray, who was now looking at the floor. "I
agree, but we must find the best way to go about it." 

 "Kill the sick fuckers!" Stan said firmly. "Are you blind, Fraser? It's
the only way." 

 "It wouldn't be right to stoop to their level," Fraser pointed out. "It
doesn't matter what they've done, they deserve justice, not a lynch mob." 

 Stan grunted and Ray looked to Fraser. "We can't just sit by and watch
this happen. You're so sure we can beat them without an army, without
taking advantage of an opportunity, fine. You figure it out, all right?
You tell us what to do and we'll do it, right Stan?" 

 Stan nodded. "If you can figure it out, we'll do it your way, but if
not," he took a step toward Fraser and poked a finger at his collarbone.
"We do it our way. That clear?" 

 Fraser nodded. He knew they wouldn't need to resort to those plans, but
what the boys had arranged could be helpful, if Benton could only see how.


 Tim walked up to his boys and ordered two of them to jump down and tie
the cowboys up before taking them to the jail. "Where's the third one?" he
asked another as he dismounted. 

 "Just the two of 'em out there," he said. "When we rode up, they claimed
he'd taken the girl for a walk to stretch her legs. We figured he must've
gone off with those deputies since he wasn't there." 

 Jim jumped from the fourth horse and joined Tim. "Well, he didn't. He's
gone a course of his own," Tim said, looking concerned. 

 Jim frowned and thought. A moment later, he snapped to attention. "Could
only be one of two things by my calculations," Jim said. "Either he got
yeller and took off or they sent him to bring in the judge." 

 Tim considered a moment and knew Jim was right. "That limits our time
then. I figure even on the tightest schedule, they can't make it back
before night. That only gives us a few hours to get rid of them." 

 "Think they'll bring help?" Jim asked. 

 Tim nodded. He hadn't thought about that, but Jim was surely right. Jim
and Tim consulted before motioning the boys to join them where they laid
out their plans -- preparing for battle. 

 23
 Francesca moved out into the street and looked at Dief. The animal had
followed them into town, but made no attack on the humans. She was curious
about the animal and headed toward home, patting her skirts to indicate he
should follow. Dief jumped to his feet and obeyed. 

 She watched as Samuel and Janice conversed with Tim. She could see Janice
biting her lip and Samuel putting an arm around Tim, as if confiding in
him. A moment later, Tim grabbed Samuel's arm and swung it behind his
back. Frannie watched as Tim pushed Samuel toward the jail. She waited
before approaching Janice. 

 "What's going on?" Francesca asked, leaning in to speak softly. 

 "Samuel tried to convince Tim that we weren't up to anything, but Tim
didn't believe him. He tried convincing him that the men were on his
side." 

 Frannie looked horrified. "What will we do?" 

 Glancing over her shoulder, Janice whispered. "I suppose we'll have to
handle it." 

 Francesca smiled and winked. The two women moved off the street and into
an alley before discussing their opinions on possible solutions. They
watched as Jim took another man toward the jail, then felt their hearts
stop a second when they saw one of Tim's men carrying TNT toward the
sheriff's office. Francesca gasped. 

 Janice frowned, then looked intently to Francesca. "We better get to work
fast." 

 Francesca agreed and the women separated. 

 24
 Fraser watched Tim shove Samuel into the cell. "This isn't really about
him," Benton said. "It's between Jerrard and me." He paused. "Why don't
you go get him and we'll straighten this all out?" 

 Tim chuckled. "It was between you and Jerrard, but now it's between the
law and the lawless." Tim stepped aside to let Jim pass with the man he
put in a cell. 

 Ray cleared his throat. "Tell you what, Tim. You get Jerrard. Sheriff
here will go up against sheriff. You and Jim'll go up against Stan and
myself." 

 Jim moved beside Tim. "You think you're getting out that easy?" He turned
to the door and watched the man enter with a box of explosives. "We've got
much bigger plans for all of you." 

 Stan looked nervously to Ray. Ray returned the look. The two then turned
to their fearless leader. Benton watched the man with the dynamite
carefully as he placed the box on the floor. The deputies could see the
wheels of Benton's mind turning by his expression. 

 The man with the dynamite opened the box and seemed to inventory the
goods. A moment later he left. 

 Fraser pushed at his lower lip with his tongue and took one deliberate
step backward from Tim. Tim furrowed his brow. "What you up to?" 

 Benton glanced at his deputies and shook his head. "Nothing," he replied.


 Tim put a hand on the butt of his gun. "What are you doing?" 

 Benton shook his head again. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." 

 Tim growled. "Well," he said, looking across at the box of dynamite,
"Won't matter soon enough anyway." He chuckled and left as Jim motioned
him to follow him out of the office. 

 In a matter of moments, the man who had carried the dynamite returned,
bearing another box. He placed it beside the first and began his work.
Benton watched the man separating, making groups, dividing the flint and
twisting fuses. 

 Ray stepped back to the barred window and leaned beside it, then lowered
his head. "What's your plan, sheriff?" he asked. 

 Benton turned to face his balding deputy. "Pardon?" 

 Stan jabbed at his neck with his thumb. "What do you mean 'pardon'?
You're not going to fill us in on your plan?" 

 Benton tugged his ear. "I don't have a plan." 

 Looking angered, Stan straightened. "No plan? What was all that steppin'
back and 'nothin' about?" 

 Benton barely shrugged his shoulders, giving a smile that said he didn't
know what they meant. 

 Ray firmed his stance. "What? That wasn't some part of some master plan?
We're going to die, aren't we? You're going to get us killed!" 

 Stan stepped toward the sheriff. "If you aren't going to do anything than
we..." 

 "Well, hello, boys," Janice said, leading the way into the office,
Frannie close behind. Janice noted the man working with explosives and
stepped toward the cell. "Looks like you've gotten yourselves into a fine
mess," she said. 

 Francesca moved toward Stan and winked, giving him a smile. He recognized
the look. She used it every time she was planning to weasel something out
of him. Now, he hoped, it meant she was planning something else
altogether. "We heard they're taking care of you," Francesca said softly,
then let out a long breath. "You'll all be missed." She glanced at the man
in the corner to make sure he was paying attention. "The women have
already started making some plans." 

 Janice smiled. "To honour your memories, of course," she added quickly. 

 "Yes," Francesca agreed. "Don't you worry." 

 Ray moved toward the bars. "It's going to be all right, ladies," he said
softly. 

 Janice nodded and the two women left. Ray and Stan watched them through
the front window as they waited for a group of horses with riders to pass
before crossing the street. When Stan saw them entering the saloon, he
turned to Ray with a quizzical look. 

 25
 Janice sat at a table near the corner and Francesca joined her. When
Icecat saw the two lovely ladies sitting at a table, she approached them
with surprise. "Is there something I can do for you ladies?" 

 Janice nodded. "Yes. We'd like to speak with Jen, actually." 

 Icecat regarded her with interest. "Oh?" 

 Adding her affirmation, Francesca nodded. "Would you be a dear and find
her for us?" 

 Icecat smiled and took a seat at their table. "What on earth would you
two want with Jen?" 

 Janice cleared her throat. "I'd prefer to discuss it with her. Please?" 

 Icecat stood slowly and headed toward the stairs. 

 Meg sat on the lap of a very drunk man and watched the interchange with
interest. Disappointed, she turned to her fare, only to see him
approaching unconscious. She sighed and watched Icecat knocking lightly on
Jen's door. 

 It was several minutes before Jen appeared from behind a door. She stood
at the top of the stairs and looked down at the two women before
descending. Icecat followed when Jen joined the women at the table. 

 As the drunken man finally lost all consciousness, Meg stood and took the
money he'd left on the table for his drinks. She walked over to the other
women. Icecat and Meg stood behind Jen. 

 "I understand you wanted to see me?" Jen asked, leaving little room for
civility. 

 Janice nodded. "We have a proposition." 

 26
 As if Stan hadn't been surprised enough, he watched the doors to the
saloon for the next twenty minutes. During that time, Janice left and soon
returned. Moments later, several ladies walked in casually. He hadn't seen
true ladies mingling with whores so he took a moment to let his mind wrap
around the fantasy. 

 "Where's Dief?" Ray asked, breaking Stan's concentration. 

 Benton looked at Ray. "Last time I saw him, he was following the women.
He appears to have a penchant for the ladies." 

 Stan chuckled. "I'll say. I would too if they treated me like that." 

 Ray nodded his agreement, then noticed Benton's concentration on the
explosives nearby. "What's your plan?" 

 Stan frowned. "Already been over this. He doesn't have one, remember?" 

 "Well, I'm still convinced that thing he did with Tim earlier was part of
some grand scheme," Ray insisted. 

 "Not a scheme, Ray," Benton piped in, watching as the man who had been
working with the dynamite finally left, carrying one of the newly packed
boxes. "It simply put him at ease." 

 "At ease?" Stan chided. "He looked anything but eased about it." 

 Benton watched out the window for who might return. Someone would be in
soon to light the fireworks and he hoped something else happened before
that time. "Tim anticipated that I would have something designed to thwart
his plans. I just made him feel more comfortable by allowing him to
believe there was a way." 

 Stan stiffened. "So he'll be spending all his time trying to figure out
his loophole buying us time to come up with something?" 

 "Precisely," Benton replied. He looked up and watched the man walk back
in. He laid the dynamite out in a pattern that made it obvious he was
planning to blow up the entire Sheriff's office. It was likely the
resulting fire would spread, in fact, to the neighbouring buildings. This
concerned him. The blacksmith was across the alley so it would be safe
unless strong winds blew, but the air had been mostly still all day. On
the other side, however, the building connected to the bank and further
along was the livery. Both, he concluded, would be beneficial to Tim, Jim,
and Jerrard if the men cleaned them out first. 

 "But you still haven't come up with something, Sheriff. It didn't buy us
anything." Ray insisted, interrupting Benton's thoughts, in a suppressed
voice. 

 "Perhaps," Benton replied more quietly. "The ladies did seem to have some
strange behaviours, however," he added more confidently. 

 Stan nodded. "Don't know what, but I'm ready to bet they've got something
up their sleeves." 

 Benton tugged at his ear. He wasn't sure what it was either, but hoped it
would work. He hated nothing more than placing his trust in others. 

 After a few more minutes, Benton watched Meg step from the saloon. Two
women followed her, but separated at the street. Meg continued toward the
jail while the other two headed the direction Tim and Jim had earlier
taken. 

 Benton turned to Samuel. "Perhaps you can enlighten us on this
situation," he said, stepping toward the bars separating the two cells. 

 Samuel shrugged. "If I had even a clue, I'd have spoken up." 

 Stan moved beside Benton. "Think maybe Meg is in cahoots with your
Janice?" 

 Samuel shook his head, then paused. "Well, who knows? Janice has always
been good at surprises." 

 Stan nodded, understanding. He turned to watch Meg step through the doors
and smile at Benton broadly before stopping behind the man who was
braiding his fuses. She pinched at her skirt and lifted it to her waist
before pointing her toe through and leaning in. 

 "Hello," she said smoothly. "I'm Meg. I know we haven't met because I
would have remembered you." 

 The man turned, took her in, then went back to work. "Maybe later,
Sweetcakes." 

 Meg leaned against the wall and looked melodramatically dejected. "I'm
just looking for a name here." 

 "Jack." 

 She squatted down beside him, pulling her skirt up onto her knees. "Nice
to meet you, Jack." She put a hand gently on knee. "What are you doing
there?" 

 Jack ignored her. 

 "Hey, I'm on your side, you know. I'm not looking to interrupt you. I
just thought I could keep you company while you work, then we could
celebrate later over at the saloon." She paused when he glanced at her,
then leaned her face close enough to his that he'd be able to feel her
breath. "That doesn't sound so bad, does it?" 

 Jack smiled a little. "I suppose not," he said meekly. "So long as you
don't slow me down." 

 "So what is it you're planning?" 

 "I'm not the planner. Just doing my job with the explosives. Sort of a
specialty of mine." 

 "I love a good bonfire. Looks like enough here to blow up - well, I don't
know. How much would this blow up?" 

 "Pretty much just this office. Should start a nice fire that'll spread
down though," he replied, motioning west. 

 "Why would you want to get rid of the whole place?" she asked, blinking.
"Wouldn't you want there to be someplace left for you to shop and gamble
and enjoy my company?" 

 Jack shook his head. "Naw. Shouldn't hit the blacksmith because of that
alley so from there up it's safe. From here down to the livery isn't.
After that, there's nothin' until hotel. It'll stop burnin' before then." 

 Meg cleared her throat. "All for these boys? I don't see why they don't
just hang 'em or shoot 'em." 

 "Tim's plannin' to rob the bank and steal the horses before they blow it
all up. Then they can use this space to build themselves some nice
headquarters. Sort of kills two birds with one stone." 

 "I should say," Meg replied. "More than two," she added under her breath.


 27
 Meg tried to pry more information from the man, but Jack wouldn't have
it. Tim and Jim had put him on a strict time schedule so he finally
escorted Meg from the building and closed the door. Meg allowed one more
glance at the boys before turning on her heel and walking back to the
saloon. 

 Stan watched across the street until he saw Francesca guide Dief from the
saloon. The mere sight of her set his back straight and his eyes glazed
over. Ray watched his partner with interest. "Stan?" 

 Stan shook his head and turned. "Yeah?" he said, sounding defeated. 

 It took a moment for Ray to think of a reply. Taking a step toward the
bars, he looked across at Francesca. "She'll come around. She just needs
some time." 

 Stan nodded before turning his attentions to Benton. "I think she's got
her sights set a little higher," he replied softly. Benton continued to
stare straight ahead, the wheels turning. 

 As the sun beat down on the street, Francesca glanced at its location.
Stan watched her every move. She turned to Janice who now stood at the
saloon entrance and, once Janice finished talking, Francesca nodded, left
the wolf, and went back inside. 

 Benton watched the animal with great interest. Ray noticed it first and
immediately jumped in. "Got a plan formulating?" 

 Benton squinted, then nodded. "Perhaps," he said very softly, keeping
Jack from their loop. "It would require this gentleman's leaving our
presence and Dief joining." 

 "The wolf?" Stan asked, skeptical. 

 Benton only nodded. The two realized that speaking about details would be
risky with Jack perhaps being able to hear any word so they nodded also
and left it at that. 

 28
 Janice stood at the batwing doors and watched the men gathering across
the street in front of the bank. She glanced at her weapons, then turned
to the ladies. "Everyone ready?" she asked. 

 In a joint effort, all the ladies and all the whores stood together
behind Janice. They each bore arms collected from assorted places:
husband's collections, personal hand guns for starters. 

 "Ready," they replied all at once. 

 29
 "Hey, boys!" Janice yelled as she propped the rifle to her shoulder and
aimed it at Tim. 

 Tim and Jim spun, their gangs following suit and freezing in their steps.
Stunned for a moment, Tim was silent, then he let out hysterical laughter.
"What the hell are you women doing?" he said at last. 

 "Making you pay for your crimes," Jen replied, stepping beside Janice to
take aim at Jim. 

 "You should all get back to your homes and get ready to bury your
husbands," Tim replied, waving a dismissive hand at the group, then
pointing at Jen. "You and all your women should get back on their backs
where they belong." 

 A clacking sound filled the street and was quickly followed by a bang.
Tim collapsed, grabbing at his leg. "You bitch!" he yelled. 

 "Only when I have to be," Jen replied. "Something tells me that you're
going to drive me to it." 

 Tim drew his weapon and aimed it at Jen. Another blast and blood spewed
as he lost his hand. Tim screeched. "Go ahead and finish me off, then!" he
yelled as all the other boys drew their weapons. They waited. Whether they
needed a command or some sign that it was all right to shoot women, none
of them were sure. All they could manage was aiming at them. 

 "I wouldn't give you the pleasure," Janice replied, taking a few steps
forward as the gang of women followed her lead. "I'm going to let you see
all your men die before I finish you off," she added, taking a shot that
took down one man. 

 It was enough to thaw the bodies around Jim and Tim. They took aim and
began to fire. The women returned fire. Dust and smoke filled the street.
Janice went down, but the shoulder wound didn't slow her. She shot again
with her good arm and sent another man down. 

 Jack heard the melee from the street and jumped to his feet, leaving the
explosives to go out and see what was happening. With the door open, Dief
ran in. Benton squatted against the bars as his new companion sat just
outside. He glanced at Stan and Ray, then looked Dief in the eye. "We need
your help." 

 30
 Jim fell beside Tim, Meg not allowing him the pleasure of seeing his men
dying first. He'd taken a shot at her and hit her gun just as she'd fired
at him, causing her bullet to go straight into his chest. The women were
boldly progressing toward the men, pushing them against the walls of the
bank. Jack was dead nearly as soon as he stepped outside, Jen seeing the
movement from the corner of her eye and plucking him off quickly. 

 The hems of the ladies' long dresses were beginning to darken in the
puddles of blood. Their boots became sticky with each muddy step. Still
they moved on, losing none of their own and sustaining only a few
injuries. 

 Meanwhile, Dief was bringing bits and pieces of the explosive supplies to
Benton who worked quickly placing the appropriate powders and fuses in the
lock. "I certainly wish they hadn't taken matters so violently into their
own hands," Benton said as he worked. 

 Stan shrugged. "You know women. They've got a lot of anger to work off
and all." 

 "Got that right," Ray chuckled. "Besides, there aren't many other
options, Benny, er, Sheriff," he added. "Had to do something before all of
us ended up in bits and pieces." 

 "But using weaponry and killing all of the men? I'm not sure...." 

 "Well, get over it," Stan jumped in. "You're lucky we had them women to
help us out at all." 

 Benton finished tying the fuse and threw the extra explosives to the back
of the cell before sending the two men into the corner. Fraser then shoed
Dief who moved into the doorway. Preparing flint, Benton froze when the
animal whined. He looked up in time to see a few men come around the
corner and into the sheriff's office for cover. Obscuring his own face,
Benton moved quickly to light the explosives. 

 One loud (((BOOM))) later and the men lay unconscious on the floor as the
cell door flew open from the power of the blast. Benton stepped through,
followed by Stan and Ray. The constant banging of guns outside was
deafening when they cautiously entered the street. Only a few men were
left. As the last of them scattered or fell dead, the women dropped their
weapons. Janice stepped up to Tim and put a bloody boot on his chest. Meg
gently kicked Jim to make sure he was dead. 

 Tim looked through squinted eyes at Janice. "Time to finish me off," he
said weakly, a pool of blood having grown around him. Janice glared at
him. "That's still too easy for what you deserve," she said. "Where's
Jerrard?" 

 "What are you talking about?" 

 "Jerrard!" she insisted with a kick. "I know he's hiding out somewhere
just waiting to organize another gang. You still don't realize you didn't
mean a damned thing to him, do you?" 

 "He wanted the best and that's what he got," Tim replied, trying to renew
his strength despite the incredible blood loss. 

 Janice lowered herself. "It wasn't about the best, it was about being
handy. Now where's he hiding?" she asked again, pointing the gun at his
chest. 

 "Go ahead and shoot. You know I'm not going to live anyway." 

 Janice cocked her head. "Sure, but it's the difference between telling me
and a slow agonizing death, isn't it?" 

 Tim swallowed. "I don't know," he said at last. 

 Janice poked him with the barrel and he flinched. "I swear to God, I
don't know. Jim was the one who holed him up somewhere." 

 "Damn," Janice breathed just as someone placed a hand on her shoulder.
She straightened to see Benton. 

 "This wasn't necessary," Benton said, not knowing what else to say. 

 Janice felt warm with rage. She felt she'd saved his life and countless
others, but in the aftermath he says it wasn't necessary? Fuming, she was
at a loss for words. She tossed her gun aside and stepped back, turned
and, after a couple steps, stopped to turn back. "Someone had to do
something," she said. "Besides, you now owe me a favour. We'll discuss the
terms of our agreement later." 

 "I'm sorry?" he asked, astounded. 

 Janice just turned and walked away. 

 31
 Benton looked past Janice when he noted a swirling of dust heading toward
town. Taking a step into the street, he squinted. It took him a moment to
recognize the cowboy who was riding beside a taller, larger man. As they
neared, the taller man dismounted before Fraser. 

 "You Sheriff Fraser?" 

 Benton nodded. 

 The man held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you," he said. "I'm Judge
Harding Welsh." Though the man had signed his transfer papers, the two had
never actually met. His voice was gruff, but he seemed a gregarious man.
He took only a moment to assess the damage and motioned to it. "Looks as
though you could have used help." 

 Benton swallowed hard and tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Ah, well, I
believe that, although the women of this town did an outstanding job
taking care of themselves, the effort may have been better spent in
another capacity." 

 "Pardon?" Welsh said, then waved a dismissive hand. "Never mind. I've got
the Marshal riding in to give a hand and I'll be staying in town for a few
days." 

 Benton stood at attention and nodded. "Perhaps you would like to make
arrangements at the hotel before a briefing." 

 Welsh shook his head and waved to Dewey. "Boy, take my bag to the hotel
for me, if you would. I think we've got more pressing matters." 

 Dewey nodded, took the saddlebags over his shoulder, and turned for the
hotel. Welsh continued without even glancing at Dewey. "I hope you have
something substantial." 

 "I believe so, sir," Benton began, holding a courteous arm toward the
Sheriff's office and standing aside to let Welsh pass. The judge nodded
his appreciation and stepped inside. He stopped in the doorway, however,
and as Benton stepped beside him, he was greeted by two ladies he'd seen
around town. 

 The judge nodded at the women. "Well, if it isn't my favourite twins," he
said, smiling broadly. "Angie, Tanya, how have you ladies been?" 

 Angie stepped forward. "We're quite well," she said, returning the smile.


 "I haven't seen you since you moved to the canyons. Why don't you ever
come to visit me?" 

 Tanya chuckled. "Well, you know how difficult it is to get away." 

 "How's the restaurant you ladies were going to open?" 

 "Much better since the new sheriff came to town," Angie replied. "We came
to speak with you, Harding." Her face became solemn. 

 "I don't like the sounds of that," Welsh returned, almost playfully.
"I'll come by the place after the Sheriff and I finish our business. Would
that be all right?" 

 Tanya nodded. "Thanks, Harding." The women took their leave and Welsh
watched them carefully pass the street. He turned back to Benton. "You'll
never find a finer pair of women." He looked carefully at Benton's
questioning look. "I was friends with their father for years. When he
passed on, I kept an eye on them until they decided to move here. I'll
never know why they wanted to come here of all places." He paused,
realizing he'd been rambling. "Ah, well, then. Let's talk about what we're
going to do here." 

 32
 Soon, Benton had Welsh completely filled in on the happenings since he'd
arrived. Welsh was dismayed at the audacity of the man before him, but
admired the way he believed he could clean up the town. The two of them
discussed the options, Welsh walking on the practical side while Benton
ventured into idealism. Finally they found some common ground and Welsh
agreed to stay in town long enough to make some necessary changes. 

 When Ray, followed by Stan, finally entered the room to see if there was
any progress, Welsh turned to him immediately. Benton took a deep breath
and tried to choose his words. "It appears we may be in need of, well,
perhaps we should consider the possibility of, uh." 

 Welsh couldn't hear anymore of it. Benton didn't want to admit to an
illegal gathering, of sorts, so the judge offered help. "We need you boys
to round us up a posse. Might have to deputize the whole bunch to keep the
sheriff here happy, but we're huntin' for a certain vigilante." 

 "Jerrard?" Stan said in surprise. "Sure, we could go hunting, but Christy
knows exactly where he is." 

 "Pardon?" Benton asked, moving slowly to his feet. 

 Ray shrugged. "Sure. Christy just caught us in the street, said she
overheard something important about Jerrard and thought we should know.
She said she wanted to tell you personally, Sheriff, so we told her to
meet us over at the saloon." 

 "Did she specifically mention his whereabouts?" 

 Stan shook his head. "Naw. We were just left to assume." 

 Benton nodded. "Judge, it seems perhaps we are better off separating for
now. You can speak with the twins while I see what information Christy has
acquired. We'll head out with our posse at nightfall. The covering of
night should help us sneak up on him in case he's got some more men with
him." Benton turned to Stan. "Anyone see what happened to Tim? Looks like
he's not out in the alley anymore." 

 Stan frowned. "He isn't. Couple men carried him off. I heard the doc's
managed to keep him alive. Wounds weren't as bad as it looked." 

 Benton took a deep breath. "He in any condition to be a threat?" 

 Ray shook his head. "I doubt it." 

 Benton nodded. "Let's congregate down the alley at dusk," he replied,
motioning to the alley running alongside the sheriff's office. 

 33
 Judge Welsh stepped through the doors of the small quiet restaurant to
see the Marshal and a few men seated at a table. Dewey, Huey, and Louie
were also present. Louie rubbed his forehead and stood. "We had to ask the
twins to get you here alone because their watching us." 

 "Who's watching?" Welsh asked immediately. 

 "Them" Louie said, tilting his head and looking stern. "Several of the
boys got away from that gunfight. They regrouped and now they're looking
for revenge." 

 Welsh furrowed his brow and waited. 

 "Marilea decided she wasn't going to miss an opportunity to see the
sheriff. Apparently she was following us. We didn't notice her so she must
have been staying a ways back and keeping quiet." 

 "I told her to stay put!" Welsh said angrily. "That girl never listens." 

 "Well, they found her following us, Judge. They snatched her and now
they're holding her for ransom. Told us to come here and talk to you." 

 "I don't have any money on me," the Judge replied. "Only a few dollars to
buy me some meals and pay for my room. What'd they expect." 

 "Not that kind of ransom," Louie replied. "Something bigger." 

 "Not that kind? What sort of ransom are they wantin'?" 

 "Sheriff Fraser," Louie replied, playing spokesman. "They want you to
bring Benton to them dead." 

 Welsh frowned, his mind already racing with ideas. 

 "They give you 24 hours," Louie added. "They want you to give us word
within 24 hours and then they'll contact you with the details of where to
make the exchange." 

 34
 Stan and Ray entered the saloon first, asking around for men to join
their posse. Nat and Beth, two of the townswomen volunteered when they
heard their husbands being asked. "Look," Nat said. "We took care of most
of them today while the men were hiding out and you boys were in jail. We
can sure as hell take care of Jerrard." 

 "I believe you can," Stan said, admiringly. "It's just that a group of
men would probably be better than a group of women." 

 "Excuse me?" Beth asked. "How so?" 

 Ray shrugged. "Hate to admit it, ladies, but when Jerrard sees a group
riding up to take him, a group of women will have him laughing his ass
off, not fearing his safety." 

 "Isn't that the perfect time to take him?" Nat asked. 

 "After all, if he's on the run, you have to chase him down. If he's on
the floor laughing, as you say, you can walk right up and take him," Beth
added. 

 Stan and Ray looked dumbfounded at each other. "Well, they've got a
point," Ray said. 

 "Sure do," Stan replied, then turned back to them. "Then help us round up
the rest of the posse." 

 Beth and Nat nodded before dispersing. 

 Benton approached Christy, a saloon girl, who sat on a stool, her lovely
legs showing him the way. He moved beside her and focused on the counter's
surface. "I hear you might be able to help us out." 

 Christy nodded. "I overheard some men talking. A couple of them are going
out to see Jerrard, let him know what's happened." 

 Benton nodded his understanding as Christy placed her hand on his.
Clearing his throat, he took his hand away and tugged at his shirt.
Christy shrugged, then continued. "Well, the two their sending didn't know
where the hideout was. Apparently Jim only told one of his men. So he told
the boys that Jerrard is camped out in the canyons. He says if you go up
to the third mine, then head away from it, there'd be a dense cluster of
pines. Just past the pines it clears and there are two more clusters. Go
to the one up the mountain and he's been hiding out in a little makeshift
cabin. It's hidden in the trees so it's hard to find, but it's there." 

 Benton nodded again. "Is that everything?" 

 Christy nodded. 

 "No mention of where the other boys are going?" 

 Christy shook her head. "That's all I got for you." 

 "Thank you kindly," Benton replied, then focused his attentions on the
room once more. He saw Stan and Ray conversing with a table of women
before he left the saloon and went to make more preparations. 

 35
 At dusk, Stan and Ray found Benton on a horse in the alley. No one else
was around so they rode close. 

 Stan looked around to see if anyone was watching, then smiled. "You find
out where Jerrard is?" 

 Benton nodded. "We're going up the canyons. It could take all night. He's
probably got two more men with him so we'll need to be careful." Stan
nodded and the three sat silent. Benton finally broke the silence. "Are we
the only three who will be handling this? Where is the judge?" 

 "Dunno," Ray said. "Haven't seen him. We did manage to gather a posse,
though." 

 "Oh?" Benton said. "When will the men be arriving?" 

 Stan shook his head. "No boys. Ladies. The women wanted to join the
fight." At that, he explained the conversation they'd had with Beth and
Nat to Fraser. Fraser skeptically accepted the explanation and they
waited. 

 Judge Welsh turned the corner and stepped into the dim light of the
alley. The moon cast shadows on his face which seemed ominous. 

 "Need a horse, Judge?" Stan asked, turning to the man. 

 Welsh shook his head and moved closer. "It looks like I better take care
of some business here in town. You men'll have to handle Jerrard. I'm
getting too old for this sort of thing." 

 Benton nodded. "Understood," he said quickly. "We can take care of
things. It might be better not to leave the town unattended." 

 Welsh frowned. "Yeah. Look, you boys better hurry, though. I'll need you
back by sunup. I can't explain right now, but I'll need you all back by
dawn." 

 Furrowing his brow, Benton turned his horse. "Something wrong, Judge?" 

 "No, no," Judge Welsh replied. "I just have some plans which involve you.
You get back quick, all right?" 

 With a nod, Benton agreed. 

 "We'll do our best," Ray offered. 

 The judge then turned and left the boys waiting in the alley for their
group to gather. He walked slowly to the livery. Stepping inside, he saw a
large wagon. He found the owner and pointed to the wagon. "I'm gonna need
that and a hitch." 

 "Sure you need all that?" the man asked. 

 The judge nodded. "Gotta carry a dead body and I'm not quite sure what's
in store for me. I'll pay up front." 

 The man agreed and prepared the wagon for him. 

 36
 It was still dark when Welsh received word from Huey that the sheriff was
riding back into town. He hurried from his hotel room and scurried to the
wagon. Pulling it around behind the sheriff's office, he waited. When he
heard the group in the jail, locking a drunk Jerrard and two of his men
behind bars, he moved into the alley. Several women left the sheriff's
office only minutes later and the only voices left inside were those of
men. 

 Welsh hurried into the office and looked at the jail cells. "He's alive,"
Welsh stated. 

 "Yes," Benton replied. "We saw no need to kill them." 

 The judge frowned. "Come with me, Sheriff. We've got some business to
discuss." 

 Benton looked confused, but followed. Stan and Ray were just behind.
Leading the way back to the wagon, Judge Welsh folded his arms. "All
right, here's the situation," he began. "They've got my niece. Holding her
ransom for Benton's body. I planned to give them Jerrard's body instead,
but you've left me without that option." 

 "What about one of the dead men from the gunfight," Ray offered. "We
could use one of them for our corpse." 

 Welsh nodded. "Only one problem. They've been gathered up and taken to
the church for safekeeping. If someone sees you stealing one of those
bodies, it's bound to get back to them. Louie says someone's in town
watching to make sure this goes off without a hitch." 

 "No idea who, though?" Stan asked. Welsh shook his head. 

 Benton offered his solution quickly. "Ray, Stan, you two are going to
have to take one of the bodies. Just make sure no one, I mean no one, sees
you. You come back and leave it in the wagon for the judge." He paused.
"Ok, I'll make myself scarce, going on foot back to the Vecchio house.
I'll stay there until you boys come to get me, that clear?" 

 "What about us? They'll think we're witnesses. Wouldn't the judge kill us
too?" 

 Benton shook his head. "Once you drop off the body, you'll have to tell
someone you heard a noise and saw Judge Welsh putting my body in the
wagon. Can you do that?" 

 Stan smiled. "Wouldn't that be lying?" he asked, knowing how Benton felt
about such things. 

 With a frown, Benton cracked his neck. "Not lying so much as diverting
attention," he replied. "We need to buy time. After you get the rumor
started, you follow the judge. Get the marshal and those cowhands to
follow you. Their... diversion should be that they are going to report the
judge for his crimes. Come get me and we'll all track the judge." He
turned to Welsh. "When you get your niece back, we'll be there to back you
up. They're sure to figure out it's not my body really quick. If they
insist on checking the body first, stall. We'll figure out some way to get
her out safely." 

 "Ok," the judge agreed. "You boys go get me a body." He paused. "Sheriff?
Perhaps you could lay there in the wagon and pretend to be dead. I'll fire
my gun so that if anyone comes to check us out, they'll see you until we
get the body in here. Make sure you boys bring a bloody cloth to cover the
body. That should help enhance the effect." 

 Stan and Ray nodded, then rode toward the church. 

 A gunshot sounded, but the buildings muted it. A few townspeople took
note, but most were at the saloon, having too much fun to hear it. 

 37
 Benton knocked very softly on the back door to the Vecchio residence.
There was no answer for several minutes, so he tapped again. It was
several moments before he could see Francesca's inquisitive brown eyes
peer through the window, then brighten when she recognized the face on the
other side. Quickly the door opened. 

 Benton took a moments notice of the shotgun Francesca had propped against
her arm inside her elbow. "I hope I didn't frighten you," he offered
quickly. 

 Francesca followed his gaze, then let out a breath. "When I'm home alone,
well, you understand." 

 "Yes, I do," Benton replied, glad that she was prepared to defend
herself. "I must begin by telling you that my presence here should not be
announced." Seeing the confusion, he continued. "I also would not want you
to worry if you heard of my demise. I will gladly explain, but you should
behave as would be normal. If you have any plans for this evening, they
should be followed." 

 Francesca shook her head. "I was just reading in the parlor. I expect Ray
should be home soon?" 

 Benton shook his head. "I'm afraid he has business to handle." 

 "Oh," Francesca replied. "Well, you want to come into the parlor with me
and tell me everything?" 

 Shaking his head, Benton took Francesca's arm and guided her into the
kitchen. "There are several large windows facing the street in the parlor,
I'm afraid. We should stay in here where there is only the one small
window. Is that all right?" 

 Francesca nodded with a smile. She would agree to anything he had to say.
He began to speak, leaving her hanging on every word. The entire story
amazed her, as did the way he spoke and the shade of blue in his eyes. 

 38
 Stan glared at the Marshal, but knew he was right. Benton coming out into
the open was far too big a risk. They would have to leave him at the
Vecchio house now, leave him wondering where they were and if things were
all right. It was best for the safety of the judge's niece, Marilea. 

 The rumor mill had quickly run that the Sheriff had been shot by none
other than the judge. Soon it had taken on a life of it's own and the most
current version Stan had overheard was that there had been a terrible
argument. No one understood that the judge was being forced to commit the
crime which he didn't actually commit. Stan's mind spun around the oddity
of facts. He turned to Ray. "We should get going. Judge Welsh left nearly
30 minutes ago. We'll need to hurry if we are going to make it in time." 

 "Huey has already told some of the men at the saloon that we are going to
report the judge's injustice. We'll gather and leave shortly." 

 Ray nodded and mounted his horse, moving beside Stan who was already on
his. The two rode away quickly, making no show to bring suspicions. 

 Not long after, the marshal, his men, and the cowboys rode down the
center of the main road of town before leaving it. 

 39
 "Well, well," said a tall dark man who had identified himself as Jack.
"I'm very impressed." 

 "Where's my niece," Welsh insisted firmly. 

 "In due time," Jack replied. "My men have her safely nearby. They should
be here any moment." Jack walked around the wagon, examining the
bloodstained cloth. "How many times did you shoot him?" he asked,
motioning to the deep redness. 

 "Only once," Welsh replied. "Must of got the heart. He left a lot of
blood. Believe me, it's a real mess." 

 Jack held up his hand. "I'm sure it is." A noise distracted him and he
turned, watching the group approaching. "Well, if it isn't the lovely
Marilea now. It certainly would have been a waste to kill her." 

 Welsh furrowed his brow. "I'd like to get this over with. By the time I
get home, they'll have heard about this mess and I'd like time to pack up
and get out of town before I'm arrested." 

 "The murdering judge. It's so fitting. Although, I'm a bit surprised you
weren't planning to claim some sort of self defense. You are a judge, the
people will surely believe you." 

 Welsh shook his head. "Sooner I get all this behind me, the better." 

 Jack nodded and motioned to his men. They moved about the wagon they had
ridden alongside, then suddenly Marilea more or less fell from the crowd
of them. Welsh quickly saw that she was injured and jumped from the wagon.
The men moved away as he knelt beside her. "Are you all right?" 

 Marilea nodded, a bruised cheek and dirtied face staring back at him. She
placed her hand on her cheek. "Other than this, there's a little pain in
my leg, but I'll be all right." 

 "Can you run?" 

 She shook her head. "They pushed me down and it twisted my leg. I don't
think I could run, but I could try." 

 Welsh shook his head. "You won't need to. It'll be ok." 

 Marilea smiled, showing her faith in him. He helped her stand. 

 Jack motioned to the body and one of the men stepped forward. Reaching
into the wagon, he threw the cover back. The man had been shot several
times, blood covering him completely. Nearly everything was blown beyond
recognition. Jack reached in and grabbed the dead man's arm. "This is not
Fraser!" 

 The judge looked to the group worried. "Are you calling me a liar?" 

 As one of the men leaned in for a look, he frowned and asked, "How can
you tell?" 

 "This is Smitt! Look!" He held the hand up and pointed to the middle
finger. The finger was only a stub. While it had been blown off, Smitt
lost the finger tip years before and it had grown over with skin. Jack
could see that the finger was that of Smitt. "Sheriff Fraser has all of
his fingers." 

 The men turned to the judge and Marilea, pulling their guns on them.
"Where is he?" Jack insisted. 

 "You'll never find out!" came Stan's voice from behind the trees. Jack
turned in a circle, watching as several men came from the trees, pulling
cocked guns on them. "Drop your weapons! Hands in the air! All of you!"
Stan demanded. 

 40
 Marilea and her uncle drove one wagon into town. Half of the men were
tightly roped in back. Following them was the other wagon with the rest of
the men. Stan and Ray sat at the front as the cowboys sat in back, holding
guns on them. The marshal and his men rode behind and around the group,
holding guns to prevent foul play. 

 As they came into town, there were a few cheers. Benton came from the
Vecchio house and helped put all the law offenders in the jail cells. Once
they were locked, an annoyed Benton grabbed Stan. "What was the meaning of
leaving me behind?" 

 "We didn't know who was spying for them. Didn't you think it was risky to
show your face before the deal was done?" 

 Benton nodded. "I suppose, but someone should have told me." 

 "What's the matter? Didn't you have a good time with Francesca?" 

 Fraser looked at the ground and before he could answer, Janice grabbed
him and spun him. "I'm glad the rumors were false," she began, "but we
have a little business." 

 Fraser looked relieved and stepped away from Stan. "Well, ma'am, what can
I do for you?" 

 Janice smiled. "In order to get all the help we needed, I was forced to
make a deal with the women of the saloon on your behalf." 

 Furrowing his brow, Benton was now worried what sort of deal had been
made! 

 "Remember, now, Sheriff. These women helped to save your life!" Janice
cleared her throat as the judge approached. 

 "Thank you, sheriff, ma'am. You helped save this town." Judge Welsh shook
Benton's hand slowly and nodded to Janice. "What can I do to show my
gratitude?" 

 Janice looked at Benton. "You see, I told them that you'd let them go
about business as usual. No more locking up Jen, Ice, Meg. You'll let them
be." 

 "I can't do that if they break the law," Benton replied. 

 "You wouldn't make me a liar, would you?" Janice insisted sternly. 

 Benton looked uncomfortable and Welsh jumped in. "They wouldn't be
breaking any laws, now, if I made an ordinance." 

 "An ordinance?" Janice asked. 

 "Yeah. I can make up and sign some legal documents limiting all activity
to remain on the premises of the Gochick Saloon." He turned to Benton. "Is
that agreeable?" 

 "I'm not certain that is an acceptable alternative to the law," Benton
argued. 

 "Good. Consider it done. I'm a judge. I'll put my signature to it and it
can't be argued," he replied. "Additionally, if I make the ordinance, no
one can convict them on those grounds." 

 As Benton started to protest he found himself alone, watching Janice and
Judge Welsh walk slowly toward the saloon. 

 THE END  1 -  

End The Cowboy Way by Laura Lee Snowee: alaskanrose515@hotmail.com

Author and story notes above.