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Magnificent... 8?	By : SisterWine Category: M through R > Magnificent Seven Views: 1621 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: MGM Home Entertainment and Mirisch Corp. own the Magnificent Seven. I make no claim to the series or characters. The other characters in the story, are mine.

Chapter List
- 1-Magnificent... 8?
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Part Four
- 5-Part Five
- 6-Part Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Chapter 8
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 4
- 5
- 6
"Thank you for escorting me, Mr. Wilmington." Lyla smiled and turned her head in his direction. Mary had helped her pick out a dinner dress and curled her hair so that she looked nice in the restaurant. Her hands nervously smoothed her dress as she listened for familiar voices. "Will Mary and Mr. Larabee be joining us? Or, the other gentlemen?" Buck sat to her left and her brother on her right. She had hoped for Vin, so that she could get a feel for the man who was to be her neighbour and confident, in time of need.
Buck glanced away, nervous of what to say in the presence of Charlie. "Well, ma'am, Chris has some business to take care of and Mrs. Travis has been getting the morning paper ready. Vin and Josiah have guard duty at jail and Nathan and Ezra are helpin' a rancher. But, I reckon they'll join you in the mornin." Before he could say any more, Buck shoveled a forkful of mashed potatos into his mouth. He had knocked on her door, earlier in the evening, to see how she was. She had enjoyed his company and liked the sound of his voice so, he was happy to be invited to escort her to dinner and hopefully quell any harshness between she and her brother.
"Of course." Lyla slowly reached for where her fork was and then carefully felt for the side of her plate. She flinched away as Charlie tried to help her find where the food was located on her plate. Lowering her voice, she turned her head towards her brother, "I can feed myself, Charlie." Lyla had come to be self-sufficient since meeting Jesse and had come to enjoy doing things for herself.
Charlie frowned but let go of her hand. "Just trying to help." His tone was calm and collected, like Jesse's had been but Chalrie had let his tension slip, more than once, and it had become visible that he was scaring Lyla. He had bathed and shaved and had clean clothes on, as well as the pine scent Lyla had liked so much as a child. "You used to want me to help you with your meals." Charlie couldn't stand the fact that his little sister was, indeed, growing up and he couldn't stop it.
In a nervous habit, Lyla raised a hand to her hair and touched a curl, tucked behind her ear. It had been a twitch of something to do when she felt uneasy in a situation and wanted to leave. Since losing her sight to an illness, Lyla felt more and more unsettled but, it had stopped when she met the one person that hadn't treated her like an invalid; Jesse. Without him, she felt just as scared and alone as the day she lost her sight. "I'm not a child, anymore. Thank you."
Charlie leaned forward, gripping his knife, angrily. "I suspect McCall had somethin' to do with that? He could have had alterior motives, Lyla. The boy's nothin' but trouble."
Lyla's hands shook visibly. "Please, let's just eat, Charlie."
Clearing his throat, Buck hadn't wanted to add anything, in case of backlash. He kept eating and glancing over at Lyla to make sure she was calm enough to continue.
"Perhaps, when we're back home, you'll get these fool ideas outta yer head and marry a good man." Charlie had taken a bite but, in chewing and swallowing, voiced his opinion that Lyla hadn't been ready to hear.
Lyla, who had yet to eat anything, was becoming more and more upset by the conversation. "Good man like you?"
Chewing his next bite, Charlie didn't wait to swallow before clarifying. "Someone who'll treat you like a lady should be treated."
Lyla sighed. "You'll never know how well Jesse treated me." She wanted to get up and walk away from her brother and his narrow point of view but she was unwilling to let either Charlie or Buck see her stumble and fall over the attempt. In reaching for her glass of water, her hand had bumped it, knocking the glass over and sending the water spilling over the table. Hearing the sound of the glass hit the wood table and hushed chatter of the people around them silenced, Lyla's frustration with having no sight and her brother treating her as he did only added to the shame. Leaning over to her left, she placed a calm hand on the table and whispered, "I'm very tired. I'd like to go back to my room, now. Please."
Charlie stood and reached for her arm to help her from the table. "I'll see my sister to her room, Mr. Wilmington."
"No offense, sheriff, but I don't think the lady is lookin' for more of your tongue, tonight." Buck had wanted to stay out of it but saw in her expression just how upset Charlie was making Lyla. He stood up to meet Charlie's gaze and take Lyla by the hand to escort her out of the restaurant.
Charlie scowled at Buck. "Stay outta this. She's my sister and I'll take care of her the way I see fit." Reaching over and grabbing Lyla's arm, he had been too angry to see how he was treating her in front of other people.
"Even if your way is scarin' the daylights outta her?"
"Charlie, please, don't cause trouble here. He's just taking me back to my room. Mister Wilmington?"
Releasing his hold on Lyla's arm, Charlie watched Buck escort her out of the building. He took a big swallow of his beer, slammed the glass down on to the table and paid for the meal. His anger boiled and his thoughts ran rampant in his head. Standing on the walk, in front of the restaurant, Charlie looked out at the night on the street. People had been closing up and going home for the evening. Scanning the street for Chris or Vin, he spotted the tracker sitting out front of the jail, playing his harmonica. Striding over to the jail, Charlie set his jaw firm and made his way to the door. When Vin stepped in front of him, Charlie paused long enough to tell the tracker his intentions. "I'm here to see McCall."
Vin cleared his throat and planted himself. "Sorry sheriff but, visiting hours are over."
"He has my sister believin' his lies. Tells her that she can live as anyone else and then steals her away in the middle of the night. Gets her involved in all kinds of trouble." Charlie hissed.
Vin didn't move from in front of the door. "He says he didn't harm her."
"He's an outlaw and murderer. They lie." Charlie's anger grew but he knew better not to strike the other man between he and where his prisoner sat. "I wanna talk to my prisoner, now."
The sound of boots walking slowly and evenly, up to where Charlie and Vin stood, were followed by a voice asking if Vin was having any trouble. Chris had watched the exchange from a few buildings away. The man in black stopped a few feet from them and watched Charlie's reaction to him.
"I wanna talk to McCall."
Chris turned and glanced through the window of the door to see Jesse lying down and rolled away from the bars. "Jesse's already caught and waiting for the judge." Looking back over at Charlie, he finished, "Not too many more answers you're going to get from him. Go on back to the saloon, Sheriff. No sense in starting a brawl, tonight."
Charlie shook his head. "I'm goin' in there and talkin' to my prisoner. And, I'll go through you," pointing at Chris and then at Vin "or you, to do it."
"Suit yerself, Sheriff." Vin stepped out of the way and sighed as Charlie shoved past him, storming straight up to the cell Jesse was sleeping in. "Somehow, I just figured there'd be trouble, tonight."
"Seems to be a lot of that goin' around." Chris stepped closer and watched the exchange between Charlie and Jesse. "Mary says the judge'll be here in three days."
"Hope Jesse lasts that long." The two glanced at each other in silent agreement but watched the sheriff, intently, while he was around Jesse.
~~~~~
Sloan sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair. His sandy blond hair had been freshly trimmed as well as his mustache, giving him the cleaned up gunfighter look. Finishing cleaning his Jennings rifle, he scolded his son of 17 years. "It's time to start doin' some growin', Jesse. I ain't gonna keep beggin' your teacher to let you stay in class if you won't do the work. You don't have any excuses now. Your ma's gone, Beth's dead, dammit, Jesse! Make somethin' of your worthless life, son. Otherwise, you an' yer friends are gonna end up right over there," pointing to the one cell the town had, Sloan was hoping to scare his only child straight.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Jesse took a deep breath. He stood across from his father, the desk in the middle. "I'm not the one that ran away instead of protectin' Beth. You coulda stopped her from gettin' killed. But, instead, you just stood there while some lowlife aimed his gun at her and shot her, all for a lousy pair of deuces! An' ma! You let her go because you weren't man enough to admit that you wouldn't stop Beth from gettin' killed! You ain't no more a sheriff than you are a poker player!" He huffed and panted. It had taken him six years to gather the courage to confront his own father for letting a card game decide if his older half-sister lived or died. He had been a boy of then, and now he was only one day away from 18.
Pushing up from his chair, Sloan closed the space between them and grabbed Jesse by the arm. He shoved and dragged his son over to the cell and pushed him into the middle, slamming the door shut behind him. "I put my life on the line for this country, took your ma and her daughter in to make her a respectable woman, only to have a half-wit boy slap me in the face for tryin'! I ain't no saint, Jesse Duell, but by God, I ain't gonna sit here and let you disrespect me. I'm still your father, boy. I loved your ma AND your sister. I'm doin' the best I can, tryin' to raise you up to be a good man but you let your mouth get in the way, instead of takin' care of things like your supposed to. I don't wanna see you behind these bars, for somethin' that you can't take back, boy. That gun ain't gonna keep you outta trouble. It'll just make is worse." Sloan pointed to the Colt .45 at Jesse's right hip, then locked eyes with his son. They stood there for a speechless moment, neither agreeing to swallow their own pride.
Jesse stood in the middle of the cell and glared at the older McCall. "The only disrespect you see is all in your head! YOU could have saved Beth. But, you didn't! You could have told Ma you loved her and wanted her to stay but, you didn't! You're what's tearin' this family apart, not me! I heard you tellin' her, you wished she hadn't come west, or that she wouldn'ta had me! You're the snake!" Jesse felt his anger rising. He felt the hot tears welling up in his eyes but refused to let his father see them fall.
Opening the door, Sloan grabbed Jesse by the arm and spun him around, towards the open door. Shoving his son to the floor, Sloan reached for the nearest thing he could to teach Jesse a lesson. His hand settled on a pair of shackles the Charlie had placed at the corner of his desk. Pinning Jesse to the floor, on his stomach, he proceeded beating the younger with the shackles, paying little to no attention to the screams that erupted from his child. "You'll respect me, boy, or I'll beat the life outta ya, until you do! Do you hear me?! I won't allow you to make a fool of me, in my town!" The cuff end of the shackle struck Jesse harder and harder with no end in sight.
Moaning in pain and screaming for his father to stop, Jesse pushed up, off of the floor and sent Sloan flailing backwards. "I didn't make you a fool, Papa. You made yerself one when you hired that no-good deputy." He panted, hard. He had been nearly knocked unconscious by the hard beating and it had taken all of his energy to fight off his father but, Jesse was not one to let himself give up. Getting to his feet and standing there, shakily, in the middle of the tiny jail, Jesse held his hands up to convey "no contest" but to his horror, saw the feral look in his father's eyes as the elder reached up to his desk for the Jennings. "Papa, don't. Please. I don't want to, but I will. Stop!" Jesse's eyes filled with tears as he watched, in slow motion, as Sloan continued to reach for the rifle and started to swing in around to aim it at his son. His reflexes snapped and made Jesse jump from the report of the Colt. His breath caught and went out of him as he stared, horrified, at his father's lifeless body hittting the floor, beside his desk.
Jesse woke up. Opening his eyes and seeing the familiar scene of the jail cell, around him. Taking a deep breath, he looked around the room and saw a tall figure leaning against the post that held the keys. "Pa?" In a moment of clarity, he could see that it was one of the seven men that rode with Charlie Drake, to capture him.
Buck had been standing there, watching the prisoner twitch and moan, in his sleep, for the past hour. His brow furrowed as Jesse had mumbled something in his sleep. A plea. "Conscience botherin' you?"
Jesse didn't answer. Instead, he turned away and faced the wall.
~~~~~
Vin sat down at the table Chris had taken refuge at. It had been early morning and the sun was barely up, like the rest of the town. "Well, I didn't hear anything from Lyla, last night. Checked on her, a few minutes ago when the sheriff brought her up some coffee. Said they needed a talk. Buck said dinner didn't go so well." Stretching himself out and leaning back in the chair, he sipped at his cup of coffee while Chris listened to him.
Chris had spent much of the night, sitting there and thinking. When the saloon closed up for the night, he sat outside the jail and chatted with Buck, who had taken over watch for Vin. "Back when I was courtin' Sarah, Hank didn't want me around his little girl. Claimed I was too rough and rowdy for her. He tried so hard to protect her from livin' her own life that he smothered her out, completely. As soon as we got married, she wanted to come out west with me. Hank missed out on a lot of things because of his hatred for me. There's something about this that just doesn't fit, Vin. Either Jesse isn't sayin' it or Drake won't let it come to light."
"Well, this piece probably won't be so easy, either. Jesse and Lyla criss-crossed their way across the territory lookin' for a justice." Vin took another sip.
Chris's interest perked. "Married?"
Vin nodded. "Afraid so. It seems we dragged them apart from their marital courtin'."
"Great." Chris sighed and fixated on his own cup of coffee.
"There's more. Seems the judge they did find for the services was Judge Travis. Jesse had the paper in his saddlebag." Vin had recalled how almost off-handed Jesse had been in saying they were married but what had surprised him the most was how deflated Jesse had been about being captured. He had tried to get away, several times but Vin had a feeling that the youth let himself get caught, just to be close to the woman he loved. "You know, I think Jesse wanted to be caught."
Chris smirked. "This comin' from the man who's so eager to get back to Tascosa and get his own neck stretched?"
"I saw the look in his eyes when Drake called his name out, in the General Store. That was terror, Chris. And not just because we caught up with him. He's afraid of Sheriff Drake and that town, for some reason or another." Rubbing the incoming whiskers on his chin, as he hadn't shaved yet, Vin started to see what Chris had been talking about.
Nodding, Chris finished his coffee and set the cup down, on the table. "What do you say, we have another heart to heart with Mr. McCall?"
Vin agreed.
~~~~~
Ezra had set up a table and was dealing the next round of cards to he and Jesse when Chris and Vin entered the jail. "I say you play a good game of poker, young Jesse. Wherever did you learn such a trade?"
Sitting back, Jesse became quiet, staring at the cards still being dealt to him. "Back in Echo, Papa caught this tinhorn skimmin' the deck. The town was ready to lynch him so, Papa locked him up for a few days, until the tempers died down. But, while he was in jail, he taught me how to play cards. When the time was up, Papa told him never to come back. After that," scooping up his cards and organising them in his hand, Jesse's mood turned sombre, "after that, it was a different time." He focused on his hand of cards.
"You play it well, my boy." Ezra smiled, impressed that Jesse could keep him in check for as many hands as he had.
Chris came to stand behind and to the right of Ezra. "Mind answerin' a few questions, about Echo, Jesse?"
"Fold." Placing the cards faced down on the table, outside of the bars, Jesse moved away from the table and walked back to the cot. He knew it had been a bad idea to bring up his past, in the first place but now Chris wanted to elaborate on the hurt. "I'm feelin' kinda tired, right now."
Chris walked into the cell next to Jesse's and leaned against the separating bars. "What are you afraid of, in Echo? It couldn't be from hangin', otherwise, you wouldn't have taken the risk to get Lyla outta there. Your Pa's dead. So, what's left? Are you afraid of Sheriff Drake?" Chris paused as Jesse turned to stare at him with wide eyes. "We can't help ya, if you don't give us the whole story. Did Drake have something to do with your Pa's death?"
"No."
"You were talkin' in your sleep, last night." Vin stepped forward but kept his distance from the cell. "Was Beth your sister?"
Jesse turned away and faced the wall. "She died when I was 12. Papa had just come back from the war. Somethin' was off. She--" Jesse searched for the words but came up empty. He felt he had said too much and that there would be recourse that would ultimately work against him with the judge.
Chris watched Jesse's reaction to the questions and decided to try another approach. "Back in Willow Ridge, you had the chance to shoot any one of us. Why aim for the candy jar? Why not shoot the Sheriff, or JD, the man whose gun you took?" Chris studied Jesse's profile. "You didn't mean to kill your pa, did you?"
Shaking his head, Jesse felt the shame burn his cheeks. "I begged him to stop."
"Beatin' you?"
"We fought off and on, that whole day. He wanted me to pay attention in my schoolin', instead of my gun. Kept tellin' me I was disrespectin' what he was tryin' to teach me and that he'd help me 'understand' better. I barely had enough strength in me to push him off. But, then he reached for his Jennings. I begged him not to. The next thing I knew,--" Jesse sighed. He felt like a big weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. "Y'all don't understand. I had to be fast. Papa didn't do nothin' to save Beth. He wasn't goin' to, anyway." Whether or not they believed his account of what happened would be hard to say. He remained facing the wall, too ashamed to turn around or make eye contact with any of the three men who heard his story, just yet. "I don't suppose I could know how Lyla's doin'?"
Chris pushed off of the bars. "We'll see what we can do. Meantime, cool your heels."
Jesse finally turned and watched Chris walk out of the cell and then the building. A questionable expression on his face.
~~~~~
"Mister Larabee, a moment of your time, please?" Mary called to Chris from the doorway of The Clarion. She had spotted him coming out of the jail and heading down the street to the hotel. She had wanted to share the news she had recieved from Judge Gregory Carson, the judge who presided over Jesse's first trial.
Joining her inside, Chris removed his hat and shut the door behind him. "Any news from the Judge?"
Mary led him back to her personal desk, in her quarters, and removed a wire she had recieved. "Plenty. The judge says the findings stand. He found Jesse to be evasive when questioned about the day he shot his father. Plus, Jesse didn't seem to be too apologetic about the killing, either."
"Two different stories. Jesse said the judge never asked what happened, from his point of view. Only two witnesses to what actually happened and one of them can't talk. Since Jesse was the defendant, that leaves Sheriff Drake as the one speakin' for Sheriff McCall." Chris voiced his thoughts on what might have played out, in the first trial.
Mary stared down at the return wire. "If Jesse really was being beaten by his father, why wouldn't he tell the judge?" Confusion played on her expression as she looked from the paper, up into his eyes.
Chris took the paper from her and stared at it, in thought. "Maybe he didn't feel safe, in the company that was there. I need you to wire him again and ask why he didn't dig deeper, without the interference of the Sheriff. I have a hunch, Drake prevented Carson from hearing Jesse's side of things."
"How can you be so sure?"
"While we were in Willow Ridge, Drake said Jesse would pull away from anything dealing with his father and that day. When Vin and I questioned him, just now, he did but he answered us, even though, he knows the outcome's still the same. He has no reason to lie to a perfect stranger, unless he's bein' forced." Chris shifted.
Mary's brow furrowed. "If Jesse killed his father, why would Sheriff Drake keep him from coming clean to the judge?"
Chris shook his head. For once he was dumbfounded. "Maybe, he didn't kill his pa?" A million thoughts ran through his head. Several different scenarios of how the story might have unforlded, but all ended with Sheriff McCall being shot and killed by Jesse. Yet, something made him wonder.
"I'm not following." Mary looked back at the wire, thinking Chris saw something in it that she had missed. When she looked up again, Chris was walking back to the door. "Chris?"
Chris paused and turned back to Mary. "I'd like to talk to Lyla, again. Would you be willin' to talk to her, with me?"
Mary had been taken aback by his offer. She had sat in, on the first talk, due to helping Lyla get settled though, she never expected to be asked for a second help. "Sure. Yes."
"Good. I think she might be more relaxed, if you're there. I want to talk to Jesse and then Sheriff Drake. We'll talk to Lyla this evening, before dinner." Chris opened the door and stepped out. He headed back to the jail, to ask Jesse a few more questions he had thought of while Mary told him about the wire.

Continued.
- 4
- 5
- 6
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Magnificent... 8?