The tracker’s bright blue eyes scanned the other side of the street. Stores that had been boarded up or falling down only a few weeks earlier, were open with freshly painted signs. Women were strolling on the boardwalk; confident their safety was assured. Two young ladies waved to Vin coyly.

“Good afternoon, Mr Tanner.”

Vin tipped his hat to the daughters of a cattle farmer whose ranch was continuing to expand. Word was his wealth would soon rival both Stewart James and Guy Royal. A week earlier, Vin had stopped a couple of men harassing Tilly and Ava Marsh. Since then, they’d been waving to him every time they came into town.

“Ava and I are baking a pie for the Picnic Pie Competition. Apple pie. We heard it’s your favourite. We could make one for you, too.” Tilly fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“Thank you, Miss. That sounds right nice.”

The sisters whispered to each other, giggled and then disappeared into Potter’s General Store.

Tanner lifted his gaze to the large banner that was now strung up over the alley between Potter’s and the draper’s next door. He couldn’t read the words but guessed it had to be connected to the ‘Four Corner’s Sunday Picnic’ that Mary and Josiah were organising. Something about community spirit.

Vin rubbed his stubbled chin. This was not the town he had signed on to protect six months ago. He couldn’t help thinking men like him no longer belonged.

Five large families had moved into the area in the last two weeks alone.

Two new stores had opened.

Mary was arranging for a school due to the number of children now in the area.

Josiah’s church services, which had been empty a month ago, had standing room only.

Word had spread. Four Corners was a safe and peaceful place for men, women and children.

Mrs Potter appeared on the porch with a broom and began sweeping. Vin’s mind was dragged back. Didn’t seem that long ago he had been doing that - minding his own business trying to blend in as he sought a line on Eli Joe. Before he knew it, he was standing in the middle of a cemetery, a stranger at his side, trying to save another man he didn’t know from hanging. Now, he had the privilege of calling both of those men… and four others… friends. Brothers in arms. The past months were the best in his memory. Despite the dangers, he’d enjoyed himself… or perhaps, it was because of the dangers. He enjoyed being a part of something. He enjoyed the respect he had earned here.

Vin’s thoughts sobered. Eli Joe was dead. His ability to clear his name had evaporated in front of his eyes. The only purpose he’d had for the last year was gone. What did it all mean? While he wasn’t certain, he knew he needed to work out his next move. Problem was, there never seemed to be any time to do so.

Spotting him, Mrs Potter raised her hand. “Thank you for the shelves, Vin. They are perfect. How is the thumb?” Vin glanced down at his black thumbnail. He’d smashed it with the hammer when building the shelves for the widow. A flurry of less than civil language had erupted from him as the tool had connected with his appendage. Thankfully, Gloria Potter hadn’t been present.

“Reckon, I’ll live, Ma’am.”

“Drop in this evening. I’ll have some boiled ham and freshly baked bread for you.”

Vin smiled. “I’m gonna be fatter than a pig if you keep feedin’ me.” Gloria’s face lit with satisfaction as she returned to her sweeping.

“Good afternoon, Mr Tanner,” Sam called from outside the telegraph office. “Did the stage get through okay?”

Vin nodded. “Yeah. I rode with it as far as Red Fork. Ground is firm. Should be fine now.”

“Looks like the picnic is going ahead,” Robert Finn stated happily, walking toward the dusty young man in the buckskin coat. “I heard you’ve entered the shooting competition, Mr Tanner.”

“Didn’t know there was one,” Vin murmured.

“Oh. I thought I saw your name on the list. Mr Standish said you were looking forward to it.”

Vin shook his head in disgust. “What else did Mr Standish have to say for himself?”

Robert shrugged. “He was inviting people to shoot in the competition. Said that you would have to stand further back than everyone else to give the rest of us a chance. There’s a small entry fee to cover Mr Standish’s costs to organise it.”

“Yep, sounds about right.”

“Looks like the prize may be as high as ten dollars! Last I heard, you were still odds-on favourite to win. Might have to blindfold you, if you want to give anyone else a chance.” With that, Robert moved off whistling.

To Vin’ right, Josiah had a group of men and women lined up facing each other; J.D. among them. “What the hell…” Vin’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head to the side to study the strange formation. Out of the corner of his eye, his spotted Chris approaching. Gone was the black duster the gunfighter wore to scare the living daylights out of others. Chris hadn’t donned it for weeks. “Now, what in God’s name are they doing?”

Chris smirked. “Square dancing.”

Vin watched fascinated as Josiah cried in an over-exuberant voice, “Square up to your partners. Now, let’s practice the Do sa do.” The dancers advanced toward their partner opposite and passed right shoulders. Without turning, they negotiated around each other and then J.D. crashed into the person beside him, knocking them and two other people down, his bowler tumbling from his head and disappearing amongst the tangle of boots.

Vin glanced at Chris, his left eyebrow arching. “And that is supposed to be dancin’.” Chris patted Vin’s back with amusement and the pair turned and strode down the street shoulder to shoulder. Theirs was an easy friendship. Neither required anything from the other apart from loyalty and that went without saying. From the moment they had met, trust had been inherent - a trust the likes of which neither had ever felt before.

“You still headin’ out today?” Vin asked, referring to Chris’ small shack twenty minutes ride out of Four Corners.

“Yeah. Want to work on some fencing tomorrow. Should be back by lunch.”

Vin considered the statement. Chris was spending more and more time out there. Larabee had some horses and was talking about breaking them. It was what he had done before the fire had cruelly snatched his family. Chris, like the rest of the boys, was becoming comfortable here. Vin lamented the fact that he couldn’t afford to be comfortable anywhere.

Around the pair, people continued to call greetings to their protectors. “Are you coming to the picnic, Mr Larabee?” Mrs Green called.

“Probably not, Ma’am.”

The café owner glanced at Vin.

“Reckon I’ll probably be busy, too.”

“You are both welcome. You are a part of this community,” she scolded. “Thanks to you, we have a community.” With that, she disappeared into her small shop.

Vin and Chris exchanged a look. “Might be time I moved on,” Vin mused.

“And where would ‘we’ go.”

Vin smiled at his friend. “Somewhere two bastards like us would fit in…where there ain’t schools, square dancin’ or picnics… You don’t have to come, Chris. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Their eyes came together.

“Thanks,” Vin whispered. He understood. Chris would stand by his pledge. Had the roles been reversed, Vin would have done the same thing. Arguing about it or trying to convince the other man would be a waste of breath.

“I hear you entered Ezra’s shooting competition.” Larabee’s eyes flashed with relaxed devilry.

“I just heard that, too,” Vin chuckled. “So, this picnic is on Sunday? Reckon I might spend the day out of town.”

Chris smiled. The pair gripped forearms and then parted company; Chris heading for the room he rented to grab a few things before leaving and Vin toward the saloon to have a ‘chat’ with Ezra.

*********

“And you’re sure this will impress the ladies?” J.D. checked with Josiah as he once again took his position.

“Guarantee it,” Josiah stated with authority. “Dancing is a mating ritual.”

J.D. nodded across to the forty-year-old woman who was his partner in Josiah’s ‘learn to dance’ session in preparation for the picnic. “I was hopin’ to dance with Miss Tilly or Miss Ava.”

“Or Casey?” Josiah baited good-naturedly.

J.D. shook his head. “No. Casey said she wouldn’t be seen dead at the picnic. Don’t think she’ll be doing any dancing.”

“You may be surprised, son.”

“She yelled at me when I asked her.”

Josiah beamed. “That’s a good sign.”

“How can that be a good sign?”

Sanchez turned to the other men and women. “Okay, join hands and circle left!”

******

Vin shouldered through the batwing doors of the Standish Saloon. Music from the honkey tonk piano filled the crowded room. Tanner scanned the interior with an experienced eye. Ned Davis and his ‘boys’ were seated at a table playing cards. The thug used to wield power in Four Corners and had had several run-ins with the seven peacekeepers in the early days, but having come off second best, he tended to keep a low profile unless drunk.

James’ cowhands were split into two groups – half at the bar drinking and the other half at a table. Vin’s eyes brushed Buck’s. His partner was wrapped around a saloon girl. Wilmington grinned, his moustache twitching on his lip, his eyebrows dancing suggestively.

Vin rolled his eyes but nodded. Yes, he would take over keeping an eye on things in here.

Buck and the large, bosomed woman rose to their feet and headed up the stairs, disappearing into one of the ‘private’ rooms where Buck would no doubt enjoy the fruits of his animal magnetism.

Vin looked to the left. All tables were occupied. Most of the people were locals or regulars. There were a few strangers but these days they were outnumbered by regulars five to one. Tanner spotted Ezra and negotiated his way over to the table, several people tipping their hats to him as he passed.

“Ahh, Mr Tanner. I am guessing that news of the shooting extravaganza has reached your discerning ears. Now, before you make any hasty or ill-informed decisions, may I point out…”

“I ain’t shooting in no competition.”

The three men playing cards with Ezra exchanged glances.

Ezra raised his hand for Vin to calm. “Perhaps we could discuss this later this evening when we have some privacy.”

“I know you’re probably running a book. How much have you bet?”

“Mr Tanner… please,” Ezra urged insistently. “A little discretion is in order.”

“Tell you what. You convince Chris to Square dance and I’ll shoot in your competition.”

Ezra’s smile split. “A challenge. I accept.”

Vin shook his head. “You ain’t got a hope in hell, Ezra.”

“I have a tracking job, if you’re interested,” Merv Thompson stated, throwing his cards down.

“I’m interested.” Vin inclined his head. Thompson dipped his chin to the other men in the game and followed Vin across the room to the only available table. It was covered in empty glasses, the saloon staff of three - now reduced to two thanks to Buck – simply not able to keep up with demand.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Thompson asked signalling the barkeep as he dropped into one of the two empty chairs.

Vin nodded. “What sort of tracking job?”

*********

Tim Smith drained his glass, his filthy fingernails and potent body odour advertising that he and hygiene had never met. “So, we going to rob those shops?”

“Want to spend some time checking things out. This town has changed. Church, picnics. Wasn’t like this last time I was here.”

“What about those seven guns we heard about… the ones that are supposed to be looking after the place?” Tim asked, opening a new bottle and pouring another drink.

“Sounds like those stories were a few weeks old. We’ve been here all day and all I’ve seen are dancing preachers, shopkeepers, cowhands, women and fancy card players. No professional guns.” Joe Hornby paused, eying the buckskin clad man as he entered. “Then again… what do you think?”

“Could be a gun. Looks like he knows how to use one.” The pair watched the young man as he made his way over to talk to a couple of card players before he and another man crossed the room to the empty table only a few feet from Smith and Hornby; so close that if one of them reached out they could have grabbed one of the empty glasses on the table.

The pair listened intently to the conversation. The locals were discussing tracking some cougar that was attacking cattle.

“He’s a tracker not a gun. Not important,” Hornby dismissed in a hushed voice.

“The guns must be keeping a low profile.”

“Yeah or they’ve left. Ain’t no need for guns in a prissy little town like this.”

********

Ezra shuffled the cards with a dexterity that left his opponents gaping despite having seen him do it numerous times. “Now, gentlemen, where were we?”

Above the din, two voices rose. A couple of locals jumped to their feet and glared at each other.

Ezra ignored them. Shouting, pushing and shoving were not signals he needed to interrupt his game. Once furniture became involved, Vin would assert himself - then Ezra would be surplus to requirements. He would only insert himself into the business of others if some twit chose to use firearms.

The voices got louder, and then the shoving started. Ezra lifted his gaze momentarily. He knew the protagonists. They were brothers. No doubt a few punches would be thrown and then they’d carry each other home.

People around the men began to take sides – Ned Davis and his boys among them. Ezra sighed in exasperation as the pushing and shoving increased and now involved a dozen men.

“How many?” he asked the next player around the table.

“Two?”

The insults got louder, and punches were now being exchanged.

“And you?”

“Three.”

Ezra gave himself one and checked his cards. As the brawl grew around him, Ezra glanced over at Vin. Tanner was scanning the room – an all-seeing security guard. At the moment, it was nothing more than high-spirited fun.

Ezra had learned to temper his expectations. There was a time when any sort of ‘brawl’ was prohibited. However, people had started frequenting the other saloon and so on Inez’s advice Ezra had relaxed the rules.

Inez. It had stunned him when she had fallen head over heels for a dentist moving through. The man had been ‘butt ugly’ to use Vin’s colourful phrase, but it would appear fairy tales were true. There was such a thing as love-at-first-sight… and Beauty and Beast had taken on a whole new meaning.

Josiah had married the pair only a few weeks after they met. They were going to settle in Four Corners, but her husband’s brother had become ill and so the newlyweds had left to assist him with his business in the East. Ezra still hoped for Inez’s return. He would admit this to no one, but he missed the fiery young woman.

The saloon owner found himself jostled and then a drink spilled over him. “This is intolerable.”

Again, he looked over at Vin who winked at him. “Yes, very amusing, Mr Tanner.”

Abruptly, a man picked up a chair. Vin rose to his feet immediately and his voice rose above the din, “Enough. Put it down.” The chair wielder, who had lifted the piece of furniture above his head, glanced at Vin, acknowledged Tanner with a curt nod and lowered the chair to the ground.

Ezra smiled. “Thank you, Mr Tanner. Chairs are expensive.”

*********

Hornby eyed the tracker from behind. “Who died and made him God?” The man picked up the almost full bottle of whisky in front of him and rising swiftly, cracked it across the back of Vin’s head.

---

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