Vin Tanner ambled out of the livery. It was a beautiful morning. He’d been up before dawn and went for his regular ride before the rest of the town awoke. It was at that time, alone on his horse with the wind in his hair, that the young tracker felt truly at peace. Now, the sun was lifting into the sky announcing another fine, cloudless day.

Four Corners was alive with activity. Men and women were going about their business. A couple of children were scurrying around in the street. The stage had arrived and Mrs. Potter was arranging to have the goods she had ordered carried into the store she owned and ran. Vin strolled over himself to offer a hand.

"Mornin’, Ma’am. Somethin’ I can carry for you?" Gloria Potter spun around and looked at Vin like she was seeing him for the first time.

"Why, Mr. Tanner," she stuttered quickly. "No, no, that’s okay. Barney and John have offered to help." Vin eyed her curiously and then tipped his hat. As he started to move off, the store keeper rushed after him. "Mr. Tanner, I’m baking an apple pie this afternoon and I was wondering if you would like to drop by for a slice."

"That sounds real nice, Ma’am. I might do that." Her face lit up with a beaming smile before she turned and went back to organize where her goods were to be stored. Vin’s right eyebrow peaked curiously and then he continued on his way down the street toward the saloon.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Miss Milly, Miss Abby and Miss Augustine standing in a huddle whispering and pointing in his direction. Vin slowed his stride and glanced around trying to identify what had captured the three giggling ladies’ attention. Spotting nothing, he realized with horror, that it was in fact he who seemed to be the object of their discussion.

Vin’s eyes narrowed and he began to casually examine the front of himself to see if he had something on his clothes that was responsible for this embarrassing situation. Finding little more than a leaf stuck to his buckskin coat, he glanced across at the teenagers who all began to giggle and wave. Vin frowned, tipped his hat and increased his pace.

Once the tracker entered the relative safety of the saloon, he stepped inside and began to examine himself more thoroughly.

Chris Larabee glanced up and watched his friend curiously. Finally, Vin snorted and made his way to Larabee’s table.

"Something wrong?" Chris asked, handing Vin a left over apple from his breakfast.

"You reckon I look strange today?" the sharpshooter asked seriously as he accepted the fruit and bit into it.

"No stranger than normal, why?" Vin shrugged and the two men settled into a comfortable silence.

"Thought I might head out to my cabin today," Chris muttered some minutes later.

"When?"

"Maybe after lunch. I was thinking I..." Larabee’s voice faded out, his eyes narrowing. Vin followed the line of his friend’s sight. On the porch of the saloon, peering in over the saloon door was a group of young ladies. Vin frowned. They were all talking excitedly and scanning the room. The batwing doors opened and the gathering that had grown to five, stepped in tentatively.

"Mr. Wilmington has not surfaced yet," Ezra Standish informed them. The well dressed Southern gentlemen had had the dawn patrol and thus had risen early, comparatively speaking. Normally, he too would have been comfortable in is bed and still enjoying the land of nod. Why Vin just didn’t do all of the early morning patrols, the Gambler couldn’t understand. The tracker went riding every morning anyway.

"Pardon," Miss Abby asked.

Ezra glanced up from his game of solitaire and smiled. "Mr. Wilmington had a rather late evening." Ezra knew that because his room was directly below Buck’s. Buck had had a very late, very fruitful evening.

"Oh, we’re not looking for Buck," Miss Milly dismissed with a wave of her hand.

"We were wondering if we could talk to Mr. Tanner?"

Ezra stopped shuffling the deck in his hand. "Mr. Tanner?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, we thought we saw him come in here." Ezra flicked his eyes across to the tracker who was now doing his level best to melt into the furniture. The Gambler smiled with amusement and then graciously pointed toward his fellow peacekeeper.

"Thank you, Mr. Standish."

"Any time, my dear," Ezra chirped tipping his hat and sitting up straighter so he had a better view of his less than appreciative friend. The girls moved across the room quickly but slowed as they approached Larabee. Chris Larabee - the town gunfighter and leader of the seven men hired to protect the town. Larabee was quiet and friendly enough, but he was certainly not a man to be crossed.

Both Chris and Vin rose to their feet and tipped their hats.

"Mr. Tanner, could we speak to you?"

"What can I do for you, Miss?" Vin asked, flicking his eyes to Chris and then back to the teenagers who were all grinning at him with ecstatic smiles.

The girls glanced at each other and began moving around nervously. "We were hoping to go out to Silver Stone Creek this afternoon for a picnic, but we’re a little afraid to go on our own and we were wondering if you would mind coming along as our escort."

Chris Larabee was trying his level best not to just burst out laughing. Vin Tanner’s face had taken on a curious expression and his colour had gone from a healthy tan to a greyish green.

"If all of you are going, then I reckon it might take a couple of men to be along to make sure you’re all safe. Don’t you reckon, Chris?"

"Nahh. You’ll be able to handle it, Vin." The girls’ faces lit up with anticipation. Vin Tanner shot a look of horror at his ex-best friend. He was drowning and Larabee had just tossed him a brick.

"Chris here was going to head out to his cabin later on today so... "

"Oh, please Mr. Tanner?"

Vin swallowed. He’d had his fair share of women and the thought of five pretty ladies vying for his attention buttered his ego nicely, except that Miss Milly and most of her friends were teenagers. Hell, they weren’t much older than Casey and she was just a kid. Besides, Vin felt he had a responsibility to the town and the last thing he needed was a host of fathers pursuing him with rifles demanding the right to defend their daughters’ honor.

"Chris and I would be right please to escort you." Vin turned to Larabee. "Silver Stone Creek is on the way out to your cabin so you can continue on your way and I’ll escort the ladies back to town."

Larabee nodded. The women smiled and then made their way out of the room giggling and chattering in high pitched voices. Both Vin and Chris took their seats.

"Now, what the hell was that all about?" Chris asked.

Vin was still eyeing the doors where the group had disappeared. "Damned if I know, but I sure as hell ain’t going out there by myself. Thanks, by the way. If ever I’m hanging from the edge of a cliff, I’ll know not to ask you for help."

Larabee smiled. "What are friends for."

**********

Buck stepped down into the street and took a long deep breath of dusty air. His life was just about perfect. He set off for the saloon to meet his friends, regale them with his exploits of the night before and get some breakfast... or lunch, for it was almost midday. Boy, what a night!

The scoundrel spotted a group of seven women collected together on the verandah of Gloria Potter’s store. Buck grinned and headed in that direction. Unlike Vin, Buck saw nothing wrong with flirting with every woman in town. He loved women. It didn’t matter what age... not that he would ever consider taking advantage of youngsters like Miss Milly. Buck would kill any man who sullied the young lady’s honor, but that didn’t stop him from flirting shamelessly. Thankfully, most of the fathers in town had realized that Buck was one man whom they could trust their young daughters with. Their older daughters... well, that was a different matter altogether!

"Mornin’ darlin’s," he called. None of the women turned. They all seemed to be looking down at something. Not to be deterred, Buck cried," Well, has there ever been a lovelier sight than seven sweet ladies on crystal clear day?" Miss MIlly turned, half smiled at Buck and then went back to whispering and giggling with the others.

Buck Wilmington stopped. He felt like he had just been punched in the stomach. A small heart-felt sob escaped his huge frame. How could his animal magnetism be failing him like this? Maybe he’d used up too much of it the night before and he needed to give it time to recover.

"It’s beautiful. Just beautiful," Miss Abby sighed.

"Please let me have another look," Miss Josie pleaded.

"Careful!"

Buck’s face clouded with puzzlement. What on earth were they looking at that was powerful enough to counter his animal magnetism? Stepping up onto the porch, the tall man leaned over the ladies to see what it was that had captured their attention so completely.

"The paper?" he cried.

Miss Abby closed it immediately. "Mr. Wilmington!" she snapped indignantly.

Buck stepped back. "Sorry, Miss." ‘The paper?’ Mary had something in the paper that was causing his usually attentive audience to ignore him? Buck tipped his hat, backed up and then strode... strode quickly... broke into a jog... to the newspaper office.

The bell above the door jingled as he entered. Mary glanced up. "Good morning, Mr. Wilmington."

"Mornin’ Mary. I was wondering if I could get a copy of the paper?"

"You and everyone else in town. I’m afraid I’ve sold out, but I’m in the process of printing more."

"Oh." Buck nodded and started to head for the door. "You wouldn’t have a copy I could just have a quick flick through, would you?" he asked turning back toward her.

Mary smiled. "Of course." She reached behind the counter, pulled out a copy and handed it to him. Immediately Buck opened the paper on the counter and began scanning it.

Mary Travis covered her mouth to hide her smile. "Page five," she suggested.

Buck glanced up at her and then quickly turned to the page. The headline said, "Poetry Competition".

"Poetry! You mean they’ve gone all goggle-eyed over some silly poems."

Mary shot Buck a disapproving look. "When used correctly, words have the ability to move people very, very powerfully. There are a couple of poems there that are extremely good. You might want to read the one entitled, "Hero’s Heart."

Buck scanned through the poem and shrugged. "Yeah, okay. So?"

Mary blinked at him. "Don’t you think it’s beautiful?"

"It’s a poem." No competition for his natural animal magnetism... or was it? "You mean this is what all them fine ladies are..." Buck read the poem again, started to open his mouth to comment but nothing came out. His jaw moved up and down but he was lost for words, not something that Buck had ever suffered from before.

"That particular poem is why I have got to print off more copies of the paper."

"I could do that."

"Print off some copies for me?" Mary asked curiously.

"No, write a poem." Hell, he usually had women eating out of his hand, all he had to do was write down some of his best phrases.

Mary smiled at him. "Please do, Mr. Wilmington. I would be happy to publish it. The poetry competition runs for another two weeks."

"I could write a poem," Buck repeated with certainty. How hard could it be? The scoundrel glanced through the names under the poems. "Jack Carter wrote a poem?" The man’s eyes zeroed in on the one Mary stated was the reason Miss Milly and the other fine ladies had been ‘distracted’. "Who wrote that one? It ain’t got a name below it."

Mary’s eyebrows rose. "I thought he would have mentioned it."

"Who?"

"Well, he didn’t want me to print his name, but I’ve had so many people come in here asking that I... well, I told them."

"Who? Who wrote it?"

"Vin."

"VIN?" Buck couldn’t believe his ears. "Our Vin? Fella about yo high, wears a buckskin coat, nervous in front of crowds, says less than a full sentence in a whole day? That Vin?"

Mary nodded.

"You ain’t serious? Vin?" Buck picked up the paper and read the poem again. He stared at Mary as he considered what she had said and then began to shake his head. "Vin?"

"Vin."

**********

An hour later, Buck was seated on the porch of Mary’s newspaper shop. He had borrowed a desk, set it up with paper and pencil and was now ready to create his masterpiece. The big man placed the end of the pencil in his mouth as he began to think... and think... and think.

"I can do this. Hell, Vin don’t even speak in sentences and he don’t have my gift with the ladies. If he can write a poem, so can I." Buck took a deep breath and began to write.

Chris Larabee exited the saloon and scanned the street. His eyes stopped when they came to Buck. Curiously, the gunfighter strode along the street and stepped up onto the porch.

"Buck."

"Chris. Oh, good. I need you to tell me what you think."

"Huh?"

"I’m writing a poem and I need you to tell me if you think it’s..." what had Mary said? "’moving’."

"You’re writing a poem?" Chris exclaimed. "Why?"

"Because... it doesn’t matter why. Just tell me what you think." Buck cleared his throat. "What is man without woman? He is nothing. Like a day without the sun. Like a river without water. Like a night without stars... Well, that’s as far as I’ve got. What do you think?"

Chris was staring at Buck like he was Martian from outer space. "Hell, Buck. You know I ain’t one much for poetry." Reading, yes. Poetry, no.

"Yeah, but is it better than, Vin’s?"

"Vin’s?"

"Vin’s poem!" Buck cried in exasperation, shoving the paper into Larabee’s hand. "The one all the women in town are going crazy over."

"Vin’s written a..." The women this morning? Vin’s written a poem?

**********

Vin stepped out of the saloon and glanced around tentatively. The excited group of teenagers appeared to be gone... finally. Sighing, the tracker headed for his wagon. Ezra appeared out of Gloria Potter’s and jogged up to him.

"Mr. Tanner." Vin stopped walking and waited for Ezra to catch up before continuing on his way. "I... I think that maybe..."

Tanner stopped and glanced at his fellow protector. "You alright, Ezra?"

"I owe you an apology."

"For what?"

"I behaved very, very badly. Unfortunately, I was suffering from a deep sense of self-pity and I was of course highly inebriated at the time."

"In-what? What the hell are you talkin’ about?"

Ezra glanced down at his shoes, sighed and then decided he needed to face Vin. Lifting his green eyes to meet Vin’s, he placed a hand on friend’s arm. "I am sincerely sorry for laughing at you the other day when you asked me write out your poem."

Vin’s eyes narrowed with suspicion and then he shrugged. "S’okay."

"It is a powerful piece of writing."

"What?" Vin’s eyes narrowed further. His heart began to beat faster.

"Your poem. I have read some of the words of Tennyson and Shakespeare and I must say that your words, while not as technically rounded, were extremely moving."

"What you talking about? Who said I wrote it?"

"’Hero’s Heart’. It’s in the paper."

"What?" But Mary had promised she wouldn’t print his name!

"Everyone is talking about, my friend. The ladies of the town are..." Vin’s eyes widened. That was it! Without a word he spun around and headed for the newspaper office with long determined strides.

Buck spotted his friend coming, covered up his writing with his elbow and began whistling. "Hey, Vin. Vin? Something wrong?"

"Yeah!" Vin burst into the room.

Mary looked up. She had been expecting him. "I’m sorry."

"You said you wouldn’t print my name. You said no one would know it was me."

Buck rose to his feet and considered entering but realized that this was something private.

"I didn’t print your name."

Vin lowered his voice and stepped up closer to the woman. "Then how come Ezra says that everyone knows I wrote it?"

Mary licked her lips. "Vin, people were asking me and... I’m sorry. Look, everyone loves it. They really do. I’ve had to print more copies of the paper because everyone wants a copy of your poem."

Vin’s face clouded with confusion. "They do?"

"Yes, they do. Vin you wrote a fine poem. A poet’s job is to move people. To cause a reaction and "Hero’s Heart’ certainly does that. You should be really proud."

Vin continued to stare at her. "They really like it?"

Mary smiled gently. "They really like it."

Vin stood considering what she had said. One terrifying thought entered his mind. "Aw hell, Chris don’t know it was me, does he?"

"I imagine he’ll find out."

"Damn."

Buck watched his friend leave, a little less angry but far more nervous than when he had arrived. Buck had overheard the entire conversation. He felt for Vin. Vin was a very private person who preferred to keep his feelings well hidden. Being the center of attention was not going to be easy for him.

---

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