__________________________________________________________________________ Disclaimer: I do not own the rights or characters of "The Magnificent Seven" series, except those characters that I create. MGM and Trilogy owns the rights to the boys, I just borrow them, have fun, and return them in a timely manner....
Copyright © Date: 3/8/01
All rights reserved. No part of this story may reproduced in any form or by any means without prior permission from its author. This story is a work of imagination and pure invention.
Rating: PG.
Part 1/?
Author: Lady Belle Outlaw Feedback: Larer@uswest.net__________________________________________________________________________
Way out west
Part 1
After coming this far, Jordan McCall had no intentions of turning back. She’d traveled two hundred miles with dogged determination and, after all, the person she was trailing was a wanted man with a price on his head for five hundred dollars.Peering out the stagecoach window, her gaze blazed a trail along the dusty street and businesses. Folks milled about under a red, white and blue banner strung between two knotty posts as lively fiddle music whirled in the air for the Fourth of July celebration.
Blowing out a long breath, she turned to her companion who was also a photographer. “He’s here. I just know it, Zepher.”
“For your sake, I hope so,” the older gentleman said. He pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, adjusted his black coat. “Carlton wants the story wired to him by no later than two weeks.”
Jordan was fortunate enough to be trailing this wanted man and getting his story would certainly be grand for her career. “Carlton will have it. Before the deadline,” she stated, straightening her straw hat that was decorated with long flowing pink ribbons.
Zepher smiled. “My dear, you never cease to amaze. Shall we work the same plan as Missouri?”
“No. I should do this alone.” Jordan’s gaze was back on the street, scanning the crowd. She’d know his face anywhere, for she’d looked at the sketch several times a day until she’d memorized each of his features. “Besides, this town looks to be a back water town, hardly a rowdy town in the least.”
“To be on the safe side, we should make out a plan,” Zepher declared in a mere whisper, his hand gripping his wooden walking cane. “I don’t want you to get hurt. After all, he's wanted for murder.”
A shiver ran the length of Jordan’s spine. “I believe he’s innocent. And my story, the truth, shall prove that he was framed.”
Zepher clamped his lips together, the thought of her interviewing this criminal made his heart lurch. Jordan was a beautiful, indomitable woman and he worried about her like his own daughter. Every other place they’d been he’d accompanied her while she spoke with the people their man had been in contact with, and he never actually felt as if she was in danger. Now, he had a peculiar feeling zinging through him.
He opened the coach door, stepped to the ground and held out a hand to assist her. The driver had already set their belongings on the street and Jordan quickly picked up her carpetbag, clutching it tightly. Inside were all the notes she’d made of the man they were trailing, his whereabouts in the past months, the folks he’d been in contact with. It was all in there.
The aroma of barbecued ribs and corn wafted through the air, reminding Jordan just how hungry she was from their long journey. Although she’d packed sandwiches, cheese and crackers, that had all been eaten hours ago.
“Let’s get settled into the hotel, then get something to eat.”
“You’re always hungry,” Zepher teased, positioning his weight on the cane.
“How’s your leg?” Jordan asked, noticing how he’d flinched when he took a step.
“I’ll be fine.”
She moved up along side of him. “You looked a mite peaked. Maybe you should get some rest.”
The older man’s lips curved into an easy smile. “I’ll rest later. Come along now.”
She stared at him until she was convinced that he didn’t need to rest. Zepher was a stubborn man and, with the cramped ride inside the coach, she was almost certain that his leg must've been giving him some trouble. Even after two months of him being caught in the crossfire of a shoot-out between two drunken cowboys in a rowdy little town, he still experienced discomfort.
“All right then, if you insist,” Jordan smiled brightly. “Let’s get our rooms and go grab a bite to eat.”
At that moment, she spotted a man standing in front of the general store. He very much looked like a gunfighter. His gunbelt was strapped low on his hips, as he leisurely leaned against the structure, arms folded across his chest. He was tall and broad-shouldered and his hat was pulled low on his forehead. Oh that profile, there was no mistaking it.
Her heart beat accelerated. It was him! The man she was looking for.
“You go on ahead of me,” she said to Zepher. “I see him.”
“Jor-“
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, not taking her eyes off the man in front of the general store.
Shifting her carpetbag to the other hand, she aimed her steps toward him. He turned, facing her, and Jordan realized with the thump of her heart that he was not only younger, but more handsome than the sketch in the Wanted poster revealed. His eyes seemed to pierce straight through her as he boldly looked her up and down, one corner of his mouth lifted in what could have been a smile. He was also more taller, and stood with a cocky confidence, his hands next to his holster.
For a moment, all Jordan could do was stare, for he was only a couple feet away from her, looking larger than life, and it all felt so surreal. Her heart galloped along at a steady rate and prickles skidded down her spine.
“Watch your step, Ma’am, there’s a loose board right there.”
A second passed before she realized he was speaking to her. She looked down at the board. “Thank you,” she said stepping over it.
He nodded, then turned his attention back to the street.
After a moment, she cleared her throat. “I’ve traveled many miles for this occasion.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “And what occasion is that?” he rasped.
Smiling at him, not the least bit intimidated, Jordan held out her hand. “I’m Jordan McCall. It’s nice to finally meet the notorious man who has outwitted marshals and posses alike, sending them on a wild goose chase across the territory.”
He raised a skeptical brow. “Pardon?”
“You should be happy I found you first.”
His eyes bore through her like a blinding bolt of lightening. “Ma’am, I ain't got the foggiest idea what yer talkin' about,” he said coolly. “Reckon you’ve got the wrong man.”
“Oh, but I do have the right man,” she replied matter-of-factly, looking him squarely in the eye. “And, I might be able to help you.”
“Thanks. But I don’t need no help.”
She motioned toward her carpetbag. “I’m here to get your side of the story.”
It would make quite the story indeed she was penning about this man, one Vin Tanner.
Continued...
All Rights reserved. Copyright © 2001