开云体育

Those of you who did not get the message on Messenger: Ann, Megs. Janette has left the group. It's been over two months since a post has been sent out, maybe even longer. Sadley, I think it's time to close this group. It's been 20 years that Colleen, Sam and I have been writing together and I have enjoyed every minute. I am going to continue off and on, on AO3, but I will not be using anyone's characters but my own. If anyone would like to be co-writers, please let me know. Ann has offered to be a co-writer, possibly, I haven't heard from her in a long while. I myself haven't written anything in a long time either as I am working on stories in another fandom at the moment. But I plan to get back to Mag 7 as soon as I am finished. I've had too much RL stuff occupying my mind lately and my muse has gone into hibernation because of it I believe. I have loved writing with you all, and I will miss it terribly. Thank you ALL for being part of this group! I do miss the comradery, so feel free to message me and say hello whenever you like. But it's time to set the RPG aside. I will miss you all and your characters. Take Care. Linda (Cheyenne/Josiah and Abe.)

As promised here is a small filler post to hopefully get us back on track. Molly skirted the edge of town on her way back to the hotel. She was angry enough to want to scorch the earth. Jonah could have caused her to lose everything never mind her own life. She hadn’t been alone in that locked wagon and couldn’t understand why Cheyenne would trust him again after what had happened. “Molly?” She heard her name being called and turned to see Lily Deveraux standing at the backdoor to the Saloon. Taking a moment to try and school her features Molly turned around. “Good morning, Ms. Deveraux,” she greeted. “Lily, please,” she responded. “Is everything alright?” “Not at all,” Molly muttered. “I’m very sorry, Ms Dev...Lily but I must be getting back to the hotel.” Lily walked up to her. “I’ll walk with you if you don’t mind?” “I’m afraid I’m not very good company at the moment,” Molly responded. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. To you and the Native girl, what’s her name again?” “Cheyenne. And how could you possibly…” “Men talk. Drunk men can pass more gossip than a sewing circle,” Lily said. Molly thought back to the night they’d returned to town, to Vin sitting in the saloon with a bottle of whiskey in front of him. “And you believe them?” Molly asked. “In vino veritas,” Lily responded with a shrug. “It means…” “In wine there is truth,” Molly finished. “Trust an Irish girl to know Latin,” Lily smiled. “I really do need to be going,” Molly said. “I can offer scones and coffee if you’re interested.” “Lead the way,” Lily gestured in front of her. The pair walked to the hotel just as Ian arrived. He touched the brim of his hat to Lily. “Ms. Deveraux. Kathleen, I need to talk to you. It’s about Abe.” “So he’s decided on a name then,” Molly didn’t try to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “I don’t give a fig what that man has to say. Lily, please, have a seat and I’ll be right there.” “Margaret. Now,” her given first name on the lips of her brother who’d never once in their lives called her by it was enough to stop her. “Perhaps I should come back another time,” Lily said. Molly took a breath and turned to her brother. “You'll have to excuse my brother. He’s a bit out of sorts this morning.” “I am putting you on a stage. There’s one coming in today. I don’t care where it’s heading so long as it’s away from here,” Ian said. “We’ve already had this discussion,” Molly responded. “Wheeler’s coming. He might already be here. So you’re going.” “It’d be safer if she stayed,” Vin’s voice came from the kitchen door. “We can protect her and Cheyenne better in town.” “Then I’d better be sure there’s plenty of coffee on,” Molly brushed past her brother and Vin and walked into the kitchen. She walked up to the pantry to locate the other coffee pot and heard footsteps follow her. She knew they belonged to Vin before she even turned around. His arms came around her in a tight embrace as he held her to him. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” Vin’s promise was whispered in her ear. She held him tighter hoping he’d be able to keep his promise.

Ian stood on the edge of the boardwalk nursing a cup of coffee. Molly remembered her brother as one who couldn’t sit still. Even while seated his hands had to be busy. He stood still now, the only movement the occasional lift of the coffee cup to his mouth. “Ian, I have breakfast,” Molly said from the doorway. “I think you should go back to New York,” Ian responded. “Eat your breakfast or don’t it makes no difference to me but I am not having this discussion,” Molly retorted turning to go back inside. She noticed Cheyenne making her way toward the hotel. Molly hadn’t seen her since they’d made it back to town a few days before. Molly stepped back outside and Ian reached a hand out to her. “Kathleen, at least consider…” “I’ll not repeat myself Ian Crowley,” she shouldered past him and stepped down to the street. “Bonjour,” Molly said, reaching Cheyenne. “I am so happy to see you. Did you want to come inside and have something to eat? I just took scones out of the oven. Ian’s favorite though at this moment I’m not inclined to let him have so much as a crumb…” Molly realized that most of what she was saying was probably not being understood. She’d heard enough French during her time in service and worked her mind to come up with. Before she could speak Cheyenne nodded toward Ian. “Were you looking for my brother?” Molly asked. Cheyenne nodded. “Annie,” Mr. Sanchez’s voice came from down the street as he hurried toward them. “I’d been lookin’ for you everywhere,” he said, relief clear in his voice. “Ms. Crowley,” he touched the brim of his hat to her. “Mr. Sanchez,” Molly nodded back. “Everything alright?” Ian asked, coming up to them. “It seems Cheyenne was looking for you,” Molly responded. “And Josiah,” Cheyenne said softly. She turned and began walking back up the street toward the Livery. The trio followed them, Josiah striding inline with her as Ian and Molly trailed behind. “What does she want with me? I hardly know her?” Ian wondered out loud. They reached the door to the small living quarters attached to the livery. Cheyenne spoke in rapid French to Mr. Sanchez. “What is she saying?” Ian asked. Molly shook her head. “I”m not sure but ‘colere’ is angry,” Molly responded. She’d used the word more than once glancing back toward Molly and Ian each time. “Why do you think we’d be angry, darlin’?” Ian asked. Cheyenne’s response was to open the door. It took a moment for Molly’s eyes to adjust to the dimness inside the small room. She saw a bed with a figure laying on it. It took another few seconds for her to understand the person laying in the bed was Jonah and he was very much alive. “God almighty,” Ian breathed out next to her. Eva appeared carrying a tray and the disappearance of food over the last couple of days made sense. “How could you?” Molly snapped at her. “And how could you?” Molly spun on Cheyenne. “After what he did, what he put us through?” She couldn’t bring herself to look at Jonah or Abe or whatever name he was calling himself now afraid if she did she would either collapse or try to claw his eyes out. Instead she spun around and hurried from the room. “Kathleen…” Ian made to go after his sister. “Ian, wait,” the voice from the bed of the man who had been Ian’s best friend for years filled Ian with an anger he hadn’t felt in a long time. As if sensing the violence filling him, Sanchez stepped in front of him. “We should hear him out,” the preacher’s voice was calm and controlled. “He nearly got my sister killed,” Ian spat out. “You could have come to me, Jonah!” Ian tried stepping around Sanchez. “He’s comin’ here, Wheeler’s comin’ here…” the statement seemed to take all the strength Jonah had and for a second Ian thought he’d passed out. That was when he noticed how injured the man was. He turned to Eva. “I’ve done what I could, but he should see a doctor. I tried to encourage informing Mr. Jackson.” “Ian you should go see to your sister. I’ll get Nathan and then we need to tell the others. This ain’t over,” Sanchez said, leveling a look at Cheyenne before leaving the room.

Ann and I did a combined post and I included Josiah and Cheyenne at the end. TAG Colleen! you it. as always I've included the word attachment for easier reading... Stagecoaches are notoriously uncomfortable modes of transportation, and it felt so good to finally rest in her own comfortable room, to have a real bed, a quick wash, and the time and privacy to brush the dirt and dust of her cross-country journey out of her hair. But the brushing was more painful than she expected, and re-braiding it made her shoulder throb even more. She gave up on the braiding and tied it back in a simple horse tail down her back, then to keep her mind off the pain, the new schoolteacher of Four Corners decided to take a walk around her new town, see the places, meet more of the people, find a bite to eat, and maybe get a good look at where she would be expected to teach. The memory of her three assailants—what had Mr. Wilmington called them, the Clancy boys—troubled Sarah, and the fact she had not received a definite answer about the state of the law troubled her even more, but the young woman figured that she had better get used to that sort of thing. She had not walked far and spoken with very many people before she began hearing the stories of 'the Seven', the group of which Mr. Wilmington was a part. Apparently these seven men were the law in Four Corners—no Constables, no deputy constables, only these men. It seemed like an odd arrangement to Sarah, but everything looked, felt, and sounded strange to the young woman, and besides, who was she to judge, being so new in town and to the ways of these folk. Most people were friendly enough, though Sarah got tired of hearing the same old phrase, spoken in varying degrees of astonishment, "You're the new schoolteacher?" The next day, her first full day in town, Sarah meant to knuckle down and really get started, but she was only partly successful. At least, the startled looks from most of the town's folk are fading, she thought. If she had to listen to one more, 'So, you're the new schoolteacher?' exclamation from one more person, she would go mad, and might forget all the good manners her mother drilled into her. All meant that this Sarah was twice as determined to show these folks that she was not the useless bit of fluff that she appeared to be, and her first task was to make herself look older, more authoritative. Instead of her usual braids, she pulled her hair up into a tight bun, looked at herself in the mirror, and laughed so hard that one of the women from the hotel came running to see what was wrong. "Do I look as ridiculous as I think I do?" Sarah chortled. The lady, a stout-looking older woman nodded, her lips pressed tightly together to prevent herself from laughing. "Oh, I give up." Sarah reached up and took down her bun, letting her hair spill naturally down her back. "So much nicer," the woman cooed. "With that face, that hair, that figure, and that voice, you'll have no trouble landing a man." "I didn't come out here to find a man," Sarah objected. "I'm here to teach." "Well, guess that explains all the books. you need somethin’ else, Miss, just holler. You know how to do that." "Uh, I need someone to help me with some repairs. Who’s the local handyman around here?" "Go find the preacher, Miss. He'll help." I don't need my soul repaired, Sarah thought but kept that to herself. "Thank you," she called back over her shoulder as she left her room and headed towards the church. Josiah paced worriedly in front of the door leading to Cheyenne’s room. He hadn’t seen nor heard from her since yesterday when she had raced out of town after hearing he and Vin’s conversation. Wind was in his stall. That much he knew; he’d check the livery that evening. He could have sworn he heard her last night in her room. But again, he’d found comfort in a bottle of whiskey. He shook his head, this had to stop, it was time he braved the consequences and had that talk with his--- his daughter. She had a right to know, to know everything--- As her steps neared the church, Sarah was annoyed with herself

? Nettie and Kirsty were about a mile away from reaching the small Town of Four Corners when a speeding horse screeched to a halt blocking their path. “Miss Nettie, it’s Elizabeths time and she’s hollering fit to bust, so was heading towards your place when I spotted you on the trail.” “Sounds as if that baby is rushing into the world. Out you get girl, you can walk to FourCorners from here. She pointed towards the town in the distance as Kirsty jumped out of the buckboard She did not mind walking but found the terrain a bit dusty and was glad to find a water pump to the rear of the Livery. She wiped the dust from her face and hands and tried to tidy herself up a bit before entering the town proper. She hid her bag containing her personal bits and clothing at the back of one of the stalls in the livery, she’d collect it later.. She could hear people laughing, chattering and getting along with their daily business. She got a few nods but no one asked her business. She was glad of that. She spotted a Saloon and instantly thought of Ezra. She wondered if Saloons were open all day. She did not know much about them. She peered in through the closed main door and thought she had seen movement from within. She shifted across to one of the large windows, although it had been frosted the big letters of the word Saloon remained clear. She had to stand on her tip toes to see through the lettering but she could not see anyone inside, the place seemed empty of people. Lily Deveraux approached her new business enterprise to see a young woman peering in through its windows. She prodded the young woman with a gloved finger. Off balance, Kirsty got a fright and ended up on her bottom next to the skirts of a beautiful woman who looked down at her with a raised eyebrow of enquiry. The only thing she could think of to say was to speak the truth. “I’m looking for work, I can clean and cook too.” She shot forth in a rush her Scottish accent thicker than usual. She looked up at the woman and put on her bst smile. .

Eva tried to stiffle her yawn as she poured a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Her outing during the night had left her tired. After she got a bite to eat, she'd head over to check on the young man. Thank goodness Cheyenne had found him or he'd have likely died from his injuries. Molly entered from the dining room. "Morning ma'am." "Good morning Molly. Is my uncle up yet?" "I haven't seen him." Molly moved to the stove. "Can I fix you a plate?" She pointed to the eggs on the stove. "I'd appreciate that." Eva yawned again. "I heard that Cheyenne needed your help last night." Molly paused. "Your uncle asked me last night if I knew what she needed." Eva chewed at her lip for a moment. Cheyenne had asked her not to say anything but she still felt like the young woman should know. "Do we have anyone in the dining room?" "Not at the moment." Eva spilled out how Cheyenne had found Jonah and brought him back to town. Molly suspected her own distate about Jonah showed on her face, her brother often told her that she'd never be able to bluff at cards. But she had seen how much Cheyenne cared for him and knew that this must be affecting her. "I'm going to head over there now and check on him. Hopefully his fever broke during the night." Eva packed a few biscuits and some bacon in a basket. "Did you meet our new guest yesterday? Ms. Devereaux, she'll be staying with us for a few days until her room at the saloon is ready." "I heard her say that she's bought the saloon?" Molly had only spoken a few words to the women when she brought her a pitcher of water the night before. She'd known a couple of women who owned businesses back East but they were washer women and dressmakers, never owning something like a saloon. "Yes, I can't remember where she said she's from but I suppose we'll get to know her." Eva bid Molly goodbye and headed out the backdoor. Molly continued her work in the kitchen. There was supper and dinner to start prepping for even at this early hour. Once folks were up and out of their rooms, she'd have to get the linens to the laundry. She checked the dining room every few minutes for a patron. "Molly?" Eva's uncle called from the dining room. She wiped her hands on her apron before pushing open the swinging door. He stood next to a table where Ms. Deveraux sat. "Can you get our guest some coffee and breakfast?" Molly nodded and returned a moment later with the coffee. "Good morning, ma'am." Molly poured a cup of coffee. "I have eggs and bacon prepared in the kitchen. I can bring those for you or prepare something else." Molly had been in service most of her life and knew when she was being sized up. Lily Deveraux studied her for a minute. "That sounds lovely, though I feel as though I'm not all that hungry this morning. Traveling tends to do that to me. Though if you had a biscuit, I'd take that. Maybe with some honey?" "Of course, ma'am." Molly disappeared into the kitchen and brought back a pair of biscuits, butter, and a container of honey. "Thank you, cherie." Molly wondered about Ms. Deveraux's accent but knew it wasn't her place to ask. "Where are you from?" "Five Points, ma'am, New York City." "My travels have never taken me there. Do you miss it?" "I-I suppose there are things I miss. But my brother is here." "Family is a wonderful thing." Lily took a bite from one of the biscuits. "Delicious. I take it you are the cook as well around here?" Molly nodded. Lily laughed. "If they're not careful I might try to steal you away. Now, I'm sure I am keeping you from your duties. Thank you for the breakfast." Eva came out of the alley next the livery. She'd been to check on Jonah and Cheyenne. The young man was still alive, though still feverish. The iodine she'd applied during the night seemed to be helping the wounds and they didn't look as red or swollen. The boy still had quite the recovery ahead of him. A hand reached out and grabbed her arm. She prepared to swing until she saw it was Buck. "Buck! You scared me." "Where were you coming from?” He glanced back at the alley. “It’s a beautiful morning isn’t it? Perhaps we

Ok and here we go another minor novel LOL. Just had a lot I wanted to get out I have attached the word version as well for easier reading..... Inside the church Josiah watched as Molly left the way she’d come. He wondered if she had meant something by her last remark about there being good men. “Most but not all?” Certainly, he agreed there were other good men out there. Few and far between. Vin was one of the best. Deep down he wished if Cheyenne were going to fall for someone it would have been Vin, but then any of the seven men he rode with would have been better than whoever this Jonah or Abe was. Maybe, or maybe it was just the fact that he did not believe that anyone was good enough for his daughter. His daughter, Josiah shook his head and chastised himself. Cheyenne had no idea he was her real father, no one did. He had hidden it for so long, satisfied with being her godfather, nothing more than a favorite uncle. How did he have the right to say who was or was not good enough for her now. Cheyenne had lost her parents at a young age, he did not have the strength to raise her himself, or to be her father even then, so he’d taken her to be raised by her mother’s people. And then there was that. Her true mother, she didn’t even know she existed, something else he must atone for. He stood and went to his room and opened the bureau drawer taking the whiskey bottle from inside. The bottle was all but empty. He popped the cork and guzzled what was left then tossed it aside. Deciding to head for the saloon and get another, he made his way to the front doors and walked out. Cheyenne opened the back door from her living area to the outside behind the church. Her prayer bundle in hand she made her way to an open area. She gathered enough wood to make a small fire. After she’d started the fire, She laid a buckskin blanket on the ground then knelt on it sitting back on her feet. Setting her bundle down she retrieved a small wooden bowl, a braid of sweet grass, tobacco, and sage from it. Taking a burning twig from the small fire she lit the tobacco and sage blowing gently on the ends until the red embers glowed and smoke rose from the ashes. As she set them both in the bowl, she watched the smoke rise before taking the braid of sweet grass, and doing the same, lighting the end of the braid until the embers glowed then blew gentle breaths to bring the smoke. Instead of setting the sweet grass in the bowl, she waved the smoke first to her heart, then her head, over her body, and finally back to her heart. As she did so she prayed in her Lakota language. Oh, Great Spirit, whose voice I hear in the winds, and whose breath gives life to all the world, hear me. I am small and weak. I need your strength and wisdom. Let me walk in beauty and make my eyes, ever behold the red and purple sunset. Make my hands respect the things you have made, and my ears sharp to hear your voice. Make me wise so that I may understand. She set the sweetgrass into the bowl, then lifting her hands she looked up to the darkened sky. Oh Wakan Tonka hear my words, one who has my heart is lost. Light his way, protect him, help him to find the road back to the one who cares. Before she was finished Cheyenne pulled from her pack three feathers bound together with a strip of beaded rawhide. She picked up the bowl and stood. The sage, sweet grass and tobacco still smoldering. She fanned the smoke with the feather fan, first to the north, then the south, east and west. Josiah wasn’t sure just what had drawn his attention to the back of the church, whether it was the flickering light from the small fire or the small voice he’d heard in the silence of the night, either way he found himself standing at the corner of the building watching as Cheyenne prayed. He took a step back concealing himself behind the building as she finished, gathered her things and headed back to her room. Josiah leaned back against the wall. His heart breaking for his forlorn daughter. “I need a drink.” He spoke out loud as he pulled himself from his spot and once again headed for the saloon. J

Molly looked down at the folded piece of paper Vin handed her. She understood better than most how dangerous a man with secrets could be. Brighty had almost lost her life because of such a man. The moment Vin handed her this paper he secured the knowledge she’d had from the first time they’d met that she could trust him absolutely. Whatever this paper said wouldn’t change that. Molly stood and stepped in front of him. After a moment he looked up at her. The light in the alley was dim, only coming from the small fire he had in front of his wagon. Molly held her hand out to him and he took it. “I don’t blame you for being taken,” Molly said quietly. “If Wheeler wasn’t comin’ after me…there might be others Molly. And if your brother were to find out…” Molly crouched down next to him. “And if wishes were horses than beggers would ride. Come with me,” she stood and tugged on his hand. He stood and she led him over to the campfire. “When Mrs. Pressman first asked me to make this trip with her I told her no. And then there was Brighty and I made up my mind to see her to a safe place. I had no idea how hard it would be to let go. Even knowing it was for the best it was all I could do. But do you know what made that moment easy to bear?” She turned to face him. “You. You lent me your strength in that moment and in all the moments that have followed. Not ever coming here and not ever having met you would have changed me and I’d never have known it. So whatever this is, doesn’t matter. I thought it did, but it doesn’t.” “It’s a bounty,” Vin said. “For something I didn’t do.” “I believe you,” Molly responded. She turned and tossed the paper onto the fire and together they watched the flames catch it and turn it to ash. She turned to him and put her arms around him. He did the same holding her close. Anyone could happen by to see them but she found she didn’t care. She’d wanted to be in his arms since they’d come for them at Wheeler’s camp. “It’s late,” he murmured in her hair. He was the first to break their embrace. “I could walk you up?” he offered. “I’d better not. Besides you need to rest too.” He gave her a soft kiss, the kind that had her nearly forgetting all good sense. She walked to the kitchen door knowing he was watching to make sure she’d gotten safely inside. Tomorrow was a new day.

Eva pulled the shawl around her shoulders knowing how chilly the night air could get. Her uncle had asked her to send a telegram before the operator headed home for the night. He'd been in a tizzy all day in anticipation of a guest that was set to arrive the next day. "Saloon's new owner." He rubbed his hands together with glee. "Heard the fella has a lot of money. Going to stay here at the hotel for a few days till he gets the rooms set up at the saloon the way he wants. Already sent a few trunks ahead and I've got them set in the large room on the second floor." Eva had nodded but not particularly listened. She'd been too focused on making sure that Molly was okay and settled after her ordeal. The young woman had not told her much about what had happened. All Eva could do was be available if and when Molly needed someone to talk to. Even as night approached people milled out in the street. She nodded to a couple walking past the hotel. Voices drew her attention to the alley next to the hotel. It was Molly and Vin. Eva considered calling out a greeting but did not want to disturb their private moment. The telegraph operator gave an exasperated sigh when she entered. Her entrance had stopped him from turning his sign to closed. She assured him it would be a short message and that it was her uncle, not her that needed it sent. He begrudgingly nodded and took the note that bore the message. "Well howdy there little lady," an arm wrapped around Eva's shoulders when she stepped outside the office. The smell of whiskey and horse manure radiated off the man in waves. He pulled her into him. "How about you and I get acquainted?" "How about you leave the lady alone and I won't have to throw your ass in a cell for the night, eh Jack?" Buck Wilmington's languid voice came from behind them. The man tensed and threw a glance over his shoulder. He shrugged and dropped his arm, stumbling away. "My knight in shining armor." Eva teased. Buck smiled and touched the brim of his hat. "May I escort you, Miss Eva?" He held out his arm. Eva nodded and wrapped a hand around his elbow. "How's Molly doing?" "Still rattled I believe, but that's to be expected I suppose." "You ain't asked about why they took her?" "Well, I know that they took her and Cheyenne to get to Mr. Tanner. As to why they wanted him, that I do not know." It didn't escape Eva's notice that they were headed away from the hotel and toward the edge of town. She wasn't upset by that, she appreciated the quiet time with Buck. They'd had little time to even speak over the last few days. "I am not in the habit of prying into the affairs of others. If I need to know, I'll assume that someone will inform me." Buck chuckled. "You are definitely not like other women I've known." "Is that a compliment Mr. Wilmington?" She raised an eyebrow and smiled at him. "Absolutely." He took a quick glance around before pulling her into the darkness of the narrow alley. He caught her face in his hands and leaned down. His lips brushed against hers. Something hot and needy burned inside Eva. It had been so long since a man had touched her, kissed her. His left hand left her face to wrap around her waist pulling her tighter against him. Her hands spread across his chest, reveling in the breadth and strength there. It felt like an eternity that they kissed but Eva knew it was mere moments. Regretfully she pulled away. "I should get back. My uncle will wonder where I've been." Buck only nodded. They walked in silence. "Oh, my uncle said that the new owner of the saloon arrives tomorrow." "Heard about that. Ezra was fit to be tied that he didn't get to buy it before this fella." They stopped at the hotel entrance. Buck raised her hand to lips and kissed it. "Good night Eva." Buck and Chris sipped coffee outside the jail. It was midmorning and the stagecoach was due to arrive sometime in the next hour. Chris wanted to be there to see the new saloon owner. He considered himself a good judge of character, most of the time. He wanted to see if it was someone they were going to have to watch out for. Too man

Eva came out of the hotel the second Ian and Molly stopped their horse in front of it. Ian helped Molly down as Eva approached them. “The others?” she asked. “Everyone made it back,” Ian replied, remounting the horse. “Not everyone,” Molly responded. “Who?” Eva asked. “Jonah,” Molly responded. “I’m taking the horse to the livery. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Before Molly could tell her brother to just get some rest, he was at a gallop toward the other end of town. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Eva put her arm around Molly and lead her into the hotel. Molly quietly made her way down the back staircase and into the kitchen. Eva had gotten her a bath and a meal and had made sure Ian also had something to eat before shooing him to get some rest. By all rights, Molly should be asleep but she couldn’t settle her mind. A large part of that was needing to understand why she was taken in order to lure Vin. She stepped out the kitchen door into the alley intending to go to Vin’s wagon but found herself walking toward the main street instead. Given they didn’t know where Wheeler was it might not have been the wisest choice. She wanted to gather her thoughts before approaching Vin. The street was mostly quiet except for the noise coming from the saloon. Molly walked toward it and looked inside one of the windows. Vin was seated at a table with Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Larabee. A bottle sat in the center of the table and all three men had a shot glass in front of them. Not wanting to interrupt, Molly kept walking with no real destination in mind until she reached the church. She could see a lamp had been lit in the side living area where Mr. Sanchez and Cheyenne lived. A fainter glow of individual votive candles came from the church itself. Molly entered. Not particularly devout she thought it would be a quiet place to gather her thoughts on how, when and even if to confront Vin. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light she noticed a figure sitting in the front pew and realized it was Mr. Sanchez. She heard him quietly ask God for guidance. Not wanting to interrupt, Molly turned to leave when his voice stopped her. “No reason to leave,” he said and she heard the shuffle of him standing before she turned around. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said. “I’ll leave you to it.” “We could pray together,” he responded. “Did you want someone to pray with you?” “Did you?” “I didn’t come here to pray. Well, not exactly,” Molly responded. “How is Cheyenne? Should I look in on her?” “Probably best to leave her be for right now. She’s hurtin’” “Jonah,” Molly quietly said. “Yup.” “Mr. Sanchez, do you know why Wheeler wanted Vin?” His response was to let out a deep sigh. “I think this is a conversation you should be havin’ with Vin,” he finally said. “Do you think he will? Have the conversation I mean?” Molly asked. “Only one way to find out,” Mr. Sanchez responded. Molly gave him a tired smile. “Good night, Mr. Sanchez.” She was halfway out the door when he said her name. “Vin’s a good man. Better than most in these parts.” “Most, Mr. Sanchez, but not all,” she said before walking out the door. Molly made her way back through town stopping again to look into the saloon. The table Vin had been at was now occupied by Mr. Standish, Mr. Larabee and Mr. Willmington. It seemed Vin had left. Molly turned down the alley and saw Vin sitting on the crates that were stacked near the kitchen door. He looked up as she approached but made no move to stand. A folded piece of paper was in his hand. Molly sat down next to him and he handed it to her. “This is what Wheeler was after,” he said as she took it. “This is what put you in danger.”

While Ian tried to coerce Molly back onto the horse, Cheyenne stayed mounted behind Josiah. She turned, her eyes searching the tree line behind them for any sign of Jonah. Wheeler had called him Abe, she wasn’t sure why and she didn’t care, all she did care about, was if he was dead or alive. She prayed for the latter. “I’m sorry Cheyenne, he’s not coming.” Josiah sympathized, instinctively knowing who she watched for from behind. “You left him!” Cheyenne shouted angrily half in English half in her Lakota language. “Why did you leave him? He was hurt! We should go back!” “He gave himself so that you and the rest of us could escape, If we go back now then he gave his life for nothing.” Josiah tried to explain. “Is that how you honor him?” Cheyenne was silent, tears trickled from her eyes and ran down her cheeks as she slowly shook her head. “Alright then, lets get you and Molly home.” “We aint got time to stop, “Chris looked over seeing that neither Molly, Ian, nor Vin were on their horses. “There a problem?” he asked noting the looks transpiring between the three of them. Vin shook his head no, even though he knew there would be a conversation later, one that he was not looking forward too. “You alright?” Chris asked Ian nodding toward the blood on his arm. Ian nodded that he was, “It’s just a scratch.” “Alright then. Don’t know if they’re following us or not. Now get on your horses.” Once he was certain everyone was accounted for. “Lets Ride!” came Chris’s orders as he spurred his horse toward town followed by the rest of the group. It was after dark by the time they reached Four Corners. Most of the residents and shop keepers had already returned home for the day. The street fires were lit and a few cowboys mingled near the saloon. Josiah reined his horse to a stop when he reached the church, he took Cheyenne’s arm and helped her to dismount. “Go on inside, I’ll see to the horse and be right in.” “I can do that.” Nathan offered as he rode up beside Josiah and watched as Cheyenne made her way solemnly into the church. “She needs you; go on now.” “Thanks Nathan.” Josiah said as he dismounted and handed his friend the reins before following Cheyenne inside. *** Cheyenne stood at the window of the church looking out into the darkness. The moon glowed atop the deep blackness that blanketed the night. The dark sky sprinkled with shining stars that twinkled and danced like a candles flame gave the ambiance of calm and serene surroundings. Josiah came up behind her putting his hands comfortingly on her shoulders. “You should eat something and get some rest.” He said softly. Cheyenne shook his hands away, turned and headed toward the door that led to her room. “You’re still blaming me, aren’t you?” he asked just as gently. “I thought you understood.” Cheyenne spun around to face him. “I understand, I understand that you left him,” she said angrily. “Jonah need not have given himself for us. You could have helped him.” “Annie.” Josiah said soothingly. “He was not who you thought he was. His name wasn’t even Jonah, it was Abe Wheeler, the man that took you was his father or step father from what he said.” “I do not care about a name!” Cheyenne shouted, “Or who his family is! I only….” Her voice trailed as the tears began to slip down her cheeks. Turning away from him she opened the door to her room and walked in. Before Josiah could speak again the door slammed shut. Josiah let an exhausted sigh escape and let him self slip down into one of the pews. Putting his elbows on his knees he rested his forehead in his hands. “Lord tell me what to do, give me the right wor

Kirsty had had a good nights rest and woke to find Nettie hovering over her with a tray of food. “Now, this is not something I do on a regular basis girlie,” Nettie said with a soft smile. “I’ve popped an ewer filled with hot water next to the basin on the chest of drawers,” she pointed, then added,” there’s a piece of soap and a towel to dry yourself, when your ready you can find me by following the smell of baking bread.” “Thanks this smells braw!” Kirsty sat up and took the tray her eyes wide with delight and a smile to match. Kirsty was famished and ate everything on the tray and drank down the glass of fresh milk. She had not had milk in weeks or slept so well in a long time. She did as Nettie advised and followed her nose into the big room where Nettie was removing a couple of tins of baked bread from the black leaded stove. Kirsty set the tray down and without asking removed its dirty dishes and set them into a bucket she spotted near to the sink with a hand pump. She rinsed the dishes in the bucket and looked to Nettie to ask is she wished her to rinse them under the hand pump. “Go ahead girl, you look like you know what your doin’.” Soon all of the dishes in the bucket had been rinsed and dried and Nettie had pointed in the direction where each item was stored. “You are quite a handy girl to have around.” Nettie said and set the bread to cool before removing them from their tins. Kirsty had been kept busy by helping to feed and also clear out the barn and tidy up a few things not so easy for the older woman to do. She had expected Mr Standish to show up and Nettie saw her watching after they had milked the cow and goats in the evening prior to their evening meal. “He won’t be coming tonight, Ezra will have his own work to do around town, well if he is not sat at some gaming table.” ‘Thon disnae sound good!” She frowned not amused considering it was gambling men who murdered her friends. The next morning Kirsty was up before dawn and had milked the beasts and set down the jugs of milk into the cooler where Nettie said to store the milk. She smiled as this was how her family had stored their own milk in the Highlands of Scotland. their winters had been cold with lots of ice and snow. She had smiled when Nettie had showed her the dug out area in the barn where she had stored ice from the winter and it now kept her meat and milk cool . She had noticed that the previous days milk that had been in the kitchn had began to turn, but not wishing it to be thrown away she began to fix some traditional drop scones that would be good with coffee or breakfast. Nettie had watched the young woman humming a tune as she poured something onto the stove top. She raised her eyebrows but kept her mouth closed. The smell was wonderful. Kirsty whipped her head around and looked at Nettie and blushed. “Sorry, I didnae wish ta bother yea, am makin’ drop scones.” She opened up a tea towel to show Nettie and then wrapped the hot pancakes back up again and flipped over the other four that had just began to bubble on the top of the stove. Soon they were ready and Nettie waved her to carry on. Nettie was treated to breakfast being made for her. coffee and Scotch pancakes with bacon and eggs on the top. Nettie chuckled as the young girl slapped at her hand when she tried to begin washing up the dishes and pans. “Dinnae do that.” She explained to Nettie that she had made the mess and it was her job to clear it all up. The washing up was done as were all of the chores when a hail was cried from outside. They had not heard the sound of horses hooves outside. The women looked at each other and smiled. A fresh pot of coffee had just began to bubble ready on the stove. Looked like they had visitors. +++ Ezra had been angry with himself. He promised himself he would not get into his bad ways again. Mr Larabee had warned him to be on his best behaviour or else. He knew not to run out on him again. But he had let himself down as he had wanted to go and check on the young woman at Nettie’s. Instead he had slept more than a day away. He woke hungry and n

Since we moved I decided to post this here for anyone who might need it. -------- Original Message -------- Subject: [TheMagnificentSevenRide] Writing order Date: 2023-01-16 11:06 pm From: "Linda Brown" <bluedolphin@...> To: The Magnificent Seven Ride <[email protected]> Reply-To: [email protected] Since we have two more writers and there is a total of 5 of us now! I thought I would go ahead and send out the writing order. Linda Colleen Sam Janette Ann The order has changed a bit from when it was just the three of us. Sam would like to be skipped this round. Since Collen just went I'm going to go on and send out my next post so as to get the story moving along so that Janette and Ann can join in. Colleen will go next then Sam. That will give Janette and Ann time to get a post ready. I would really like to see a week and no more than two week minimum to get your post out. If you can get it out sooner Great! if its going to be a bit longer let us know and if you need to skip a round no problem just let us know. Lets try not to let the story lag, that tends to curb the mojo and that's no fun :( Sam, Colleen and I have been really lax cuz its just been the three of us. So we may need an adjustment time LOL. I should have my post out this weekend by Saturday night. I'm off Thursday Friday and Saturday. If you have any suggestions? or Questions PM me or post in the Messenger chat. I've got everyone added to the LOTMS:Tales from Four Corners messenger chat so we can keep in touch, get to know each other and plot! Thanks everyone and again Welcome aboard Janette and Ann! Linda _._,_._,_ ------------------------- 开云体育 Links:

Everyone who gets this message please reply so I can make sure everyone is here and receiving emails before I delete the other group. Thanks a bunch Linda

ColleenJan 19 #177 Just for future reference: Molly - paired with Vin Cheyenne - paired with (though not romantically) Josiah Eva - paired with Buck Kristy - paired with Ezra Sarah - not yet paired Nancy - not yet paired Please let me know if this is not correct and I will delete and resend the post. Thank you! Colleen

Name: Nancy Rebecca (Nan) Owens (newly widowed) Age, 18 Father: Jack Collins Mother: Annette Georgina Montgomery Collins Nancy Rebecca Owens, maiden name Collins, is a plump girl around five foot six inches tall, short mouse brown hair and green eyes. She was married to a young man named Bret Owens, who was recently murdered by two men attempting to rob their home in Maryland. She has four older sisters, Sarah Eliza Collins (never married), Mary Alice Baker, Rachel Susanne Miller, and Cynthia Louise Baxter. Not wanting to move back in with her parents, and having no in-laws (her husband was an orphan), Nancy fled west to find her favorite older sister, Sarah Eliza, and hopefully with Sarah's help and guidance, she will start a whole new life for herself and the baby she now carries. Nancy Rebecca, is a skilled nurse. She can also cook anything, is an excellent housekeeper, and is a sewing demon. Before she married at fifteen, she wanted to be a dress maker. Some of her hobbies are dancing, singing, and drawing. She is still very traumatized by the murder of her husband. ?

RPG Introductory post Christina MacMartin. Christina MacMartin’s wagon was quite distinctive as it had a tartan cover. The original canvas top had got ripped during a storm the previous month. She had got help to remove the canvas to make repairs and covered the cloth with tweed. She sewed it up together by using wool and soon not only was her wagon warmer at night, it was cool during the heat of the day. The wagon train had become much smaller the further west they travelled. Kirsty had already made the decision to take the next fork in the trail and glad she was not going to be alone for this final part of her journey as two other teams were also heading towards Four Corners. Kirsty bedded down for her final night on the trail. She was quite excited and had watched the large moon from the rear of her wagon as she drifted off to sleep, knowing that the next day they all would be in Four Corners. During the night she woke with a start, the firing of guns and screams had rent the air. She peered out of her wagon wide eyed in shock. The two wagons were ablaze and their occupants had been murdered. She bit into her blanket to stop herself from screaming and giving herself away. She had chosen to bed down with her wagon a short distance from the men’s wagons, her tartan wagon hid by a copse of trees. This had saved her life. +++ Ezra Standish, had rubbed at his chin with contemplation, he was tired but even gambling men who were tired and had sat up all night at the poker table could see that something rather suspicious was going on. Three men who had left the gameing table just before midnight were now back at 4am with money jingling in their pockets and he was sure they had left the gaming table pleading poverty. They looked as they had been riding hard and keen to get back into the game. Ezra threw in his final hand and left the gaming table leaving the three yahoo’s to continue to play. He wandered out into the street to find that the three men’s horses were soaked with sweat and had been ridden hard. He also noticed the distinct stink of smoke. They had left their rifles in their rigs and being curius he checked them and found all had been recently fired. Dumping his head into a water butt Ezra growled low as he headed to the livery to collect his horse. He rode out of town as the sun came up. There had been some light rain just after midnight so Ezra was able to see the horses hoof prints in both directions. He easily followed them to the ridge and he swore as he saw two burned out wagons across the river and the dark shapes of what looked like bodies . Ezra walked into the deserted camp and removed his hat. He stood in the early morning sun and delicately looked over the devastating scene. The poor people had been murdered in their beds. He saw the scattered belongings and knew that the men gambling back in town had stolen not only their lives but their money or what little they had to feed their gambling. He lowered his eyes and rubbed at his face. This day was going to be a long one. He gathered up the horses and then heard a sound coming from the nearby copse of trees. He was instantly on alert and his gun was now clear of leather and in his hand as he moved slowly forward. Christina MacMartin felt her throat go dry. She had felt faint to see a red coat in the West had horrified her. The red colour to her meant danger, death and English. they had killed, raped and tore her family from their homelands and now here was another one. Was he on her trail to kill her. She must have let out a cry of alarm as the man turned to face her. she was hiding in the trees. She thought she was safe but it looked like she was not. “Who ever you are, come out with your hands up.” Ezra put on his annoyed face and moved in closer. “Now!” He moved around further and spotted the strangest sight. What appeared to him was a tartan covered wagon. He did not know whether to laugh or not. “MacDonald Tartan,” Ezra muttered to himself not realising that he was being watched and that he also had been heard. Blinking back tears and with legs wobb

Christina MacMartin known as Kirsty Christina was named after her mother. The family always called her Kirsty unless she was in trouble then she would get her full name. The family of six were thrown off their ancestral land in Lochaber in the Highlands of Scotland, by the new landowner. He had been gifted the land by the crown. He was swift to displace the tenants and invested in sheep a less vocal beast. Kirsty’s family boarded an immigrant ship bound for the America’s, they had little wealth and what they had was held in their hands. the life on board the ancient ship was deplorable. Kirsty lost both parents and two brothers to a sickness while at sea. Alone in a new country Kirsty and her oldest brother Scott MacMartin headed west. After a couple of months riding on their wagon on a wagon train, Scott left her with a wagon stocked with the family’s wealth of tweed. He told her to keep it as he rode off following men to the newest gold mine that had just been discovered without giving her a backward glance. He always had been selfish and inconsiderate and never gave her a moments thought as he rode off to get rich. Kirsty a tall young woman stood 5ft 5 in her stocking feet. She had rich red hair that she covered under her fathers old Tammy --tam o shanter. She had a good right hook and knew how to put off men with a knee if needed. She dressed in second hand clothing that she had bought as she found theold wool clothing she had too hot for the climate. she had yards of tweed to make new if she needed things for winter. Her father had been a weaver of Tweed and she knew how to make and work a loom . Some thought her an old maid at 27 but she did not care. She liked being on her own but did miss her family. She had often found her campfire at night to be crowded as families bought or bartered food from her as many liked the Scottish food she cooked. This had helped to add to her savings along the route. She was a stranger to this new land and had never wanted to be on her own but she knew she had to work hard and make it not just for herself but for the family she had lost.

When she left her home in Virginia, Sarah's mother cried, fearing that her eldest daughter, who was heading off all alone into the 'wild frontier', without a proper escort, would be kidnapped by savages or ravaged or both. At the time, Sarah thought this was the wildest and most exaggerated imaginings, but not unexpected from her mother. The trip out to Four Corners however, made Sarah feel bad that she had thought her Mother was just showing her usual hysterics. I wonder if Mother was right? Sarah thought as she looked curiously at this place which would be her new home. Perhaps this is the wild frontier after all. It hit Sarah, and hard, that she had never been so far away from home, and so alone among total strangers. It was a relief to disembark, finally, from that broken-down stage coach, though she was regretting not letting someone help her with her heavy case, and she vowed to let the next man who offered help carry the bulky, heavy bag ... Well, maybe. She did not have to wait long. Before she had gone more than a few yards, three young men descended upon Sarah, all of them offering to carry her case. Before she could decide which one to choose, they first began to argue, then actually brawling in the street. Sarah backed away hurriedly, open-mouthed and wide eyed, and stared in astonishment at these three brutes. Dear god, what have I gotten myself into, she thought with trepidation and gripped her bag tighter, ready to use it either as a shield or a weapon. It was thick enough to make a good shield, and if she dropped it on someone's toes or swung it into their shins, it would really do some damage. Sarah learned this from some experiences during her long trip. "Alright, break it up there, gents! Break it up! Y'all back off and let her alone!" came an unfamiliar but commanding voice, and Sarah prayed that the man behind that voice had some authority in more ways than his words. Apparently, he did. He waded into the three showing no fear whatsoever, and the three men seemed to know him? One man, the smallest of the three, quickly gave in and backed away from the newcomer, holding up both his hands and looking far too innocent, but the other two were not giving up. The fourth stranger did not seem surprised or deterred by this, however, and he swiftly dealt with one of his assailants. But when Sarah saw the third much small man creeping up on the fourth man's blindside, she stepped forward and stuck out her slender foot to trip him up. With the help of his own momentum, she sent him sprawling into the gutter. If that fourth one isn't the constable, I may be in deeper trouble than I thought, Sarah thought. And in the midst of her total shock at how the first three strangers had behaved, and out in public no less, Sarah could not help be impressed by how well the fourth man handled himself and those others. It occurred to her, too late, that she could have run away while the fight was going on, but that was a cowardly thing to do. Sarah Eliza Collins was not a coward. And, she could not run while lugging that heavy bag, and she would die before leaving her bag. At best, and under its weight, all she could manage was a slow and stately sort of waddle. "Excuse me, Miss," the fourth man slowly approached her. "You alright? None of /em hurt you, did they?" Sarah knelt down and picked up this strangers hat. "I-I'm fine, thank you, sir," Sarah finally found her voice. "They didn't hurt me. One offered to carry my case. They bickered and they started to fight. Then, you came along?" Moving to peer around the helpful stranger, she saw the three men nursing many wounds, and slinking off in the opposite direction, muttering swear words not quite under their breaths. She dusted off his hat and gave it back to him. "Much obliged, Miss," the man said. "I'm Sarah Eliza Collins. I am supposed to teach school here in Four corners. Are you the local constable?" The man blinked. "Well, I spose you could say that. So, you're the new school Marm?" "Uh, I'm supposed to be," Sarah gave him a cautious smile. "And you are—" "Well forgive

Name: Sarah Eliza Collins (named after both grandmothers) Age: 25 Father: Jack Collins, teacher Mother: Annette Georgina Montgomery Collins, seamstress and house wife Sarah Eliza is a little slip of a girl, barely five feet tall with long blond hair and green eyes. She's not a great cook, like all her sisters, but she can bake bread and cakes that men would (and have) fought over. She speaks and teaches French along with her native English. She loves teaching and children, dancing—she loves square dances, but she also knows the more formal dance steps—and she loves cats and riding horses, and writing poetry, though she usually doesn't let too many people know about that hobby. She has four younger sisters, Mary Alice, Rachel Susanne, Cynthia Louise, and Nancy Rebecca, all of whom are married, most with at least two children, and scattered across the country. Sarah Eliza left her home in Virginia and took the furthest teaching job that she could find, mostly to get away from an annoying suitor, and her mother's constant match-making attempts. Her Mother cries herself to sleep at night thinking her eldest is going to become an old lonely spinster teacher, but her father is proud of his daughter's independent spirit, and says she reminds him so much of her mother when she was young. Sarah is normally a thoughtful, even-tempered young lady, except when it comes to the mistreatment of women and/or girls, which her fourth brother-in-law learned the hard way when she blacked both his eyes and almost broke his nose after he slapped Nancy Rebecca, her youngest and favorite sister. He's been an upstanding husband ever since. She is looking forward to teaching in a small town setting. ?