With a groan of disgust Ezra rolled onto his side, pulling the pillow over his head in hopes of drowning out the noise that had persisted in dragging him from a sleep which had claimed him in what seemed like only moments earlier.

Sleep the last two days had meant catnaps in the saddle or a couple of hours on the hard ground as he, Vin and Chris had trailed three strangers who'd broken into the Mercantile, the Grain Exchange and the hotel. The robbers had cleaned out the tills and helped themselves to a variety of supplies as well as several bottles of whiskey from the back room of their favorite saloon.

Apparently the would be desperadoes had thought it too dangerous to go after the bank’s money, unwisely deciding the seven men who protected the town wouldn't worry or take the time to hunt down the men who committed minor crimes.

They were wrong.

The telegram from JD had been waiting on the law men when they had left the makeshift courtroom in Eagle Bend. It seems Josiah had ridden out of town with Nathan to help one of the local farmers who'd broken a leg and several ribs in a fall while repairing his roof.

Buck, opting to leave JD to watch over the town, had followed the criminals but had ended up walking back to town when his horse threw a shoe. According to Wilmington, the men were headed in the general direction of Eagle Bend and one of the horses had a deep nick in its right front hoof.

Tanner had easily picked up the trail and the law keepers had followed as the robbers skirted the town of Eagle Bend and headed for Red Ridge City. They had cornered the three in a blind canyon and the felons hadn't put up a fight. Immediately realizing the peace keepers, saddle sore, tired and dirty, were not to be messed with, the robbers quickly surrendered and were returned to the town without incident.

Now, with a disgruntled mutter, cursing his long time companion, Ezra angrily pushed the velvety muzzle away as the horse nuzzled his neck with a soft whinny.

Undeterred, the horse began nibbling on the blanket which the gambler had pulled over his head.

"Damnit, Chaucer, I don't have any apples." He knew if the sun had done more than streak the sky gray, Vin and Chris would have already dragged him from his nice soft bed..... Chaucer?.....bed?....

Opting not to spend another night on the trail, the men had deposited the thieves at the jail long after the town had retired. As if certain of their arrival, Inez had been waiting in the deserted saloon with chili, thick slices of bread and a bottle of whiskey.

Their appetites satisfied, the warmth of the whiskey relaxing tired tense muscles, the three had separated, going their own ways to wearily crawl into bed, each falling asleep almost instantly.

"What the hell!"

Tangled in his blankets, Ezra tumbled to the floor as, bolting upright, he scrambled frantically from the bed. Unwrapping himself, rubbing at sleep heavy emerald eyes, he slowly pushed to his feet, staring in sleepy bewilderment at the chestnut gelding which was staring back at him from the other side of the bed.

The animal raised his head and curled his upper lip, as if laughing at the gambler’s expression. Then stamping his front hoof in irritation, Chaucer whinnied, looking at his owner in what the gambler would have sworn was confusion as he tried to move in the small space between the bed and the dresser.

"You are a dead man, Mister Wilmington," Ezra growled, certain this was one of the womanizer's practical jokes. The con man jerked his trousers from the chair where he'd tossed them only a few short hours earlier too exhausted to take his usual care with his clothing.

"I'm personally going to---" He hesitated as he fastened the trousers, cocking his head to one side, certain he was hearing shouts of anger from various positions in the street mixing with what sounded like the lowing of cattle.

Ignoring his boots, Ezra grabbed his Remington from the holster hanging on the rocker and moved to the window.

Green eyes widened as he watched Tanner tumble haphazardly from the back of his wagon, cursing loud enough to wake the dead. In a frantic effort to scramble to his feet, the tracker stumbled, and ended up crawling on all fours toward the front of the wagon as a large billy goat vaulted the wagon’s tailgate.

With an angry grunting, the billy lowered its head and charged the ex-bounty hunter, its horns barely missing the man as Vin leapt up on the seat. Backing up, the goat continued to ram Tanner's humble abode, repeatedly slamming its head against the front wheel.

Ezra's gaze was pulled from the Texan's dilemma as Larabee stormed from the boarding house. That is, Ezra realized in an abstract sort of way, if one could actually storm when hopping on one foot while struggling to tug on his boot. Finally stamping his foot into the boot, his shirt hanging open, his blond hair sleep tousled, Chris tossed a quick glance in Tanner's direction before taking a step toward the jail.

Tanner still swearing, vaulted from the wagon seat and raced for the saloon and the gunslinger changed direction at the sounds of a startled shriek followed by a string of Spanish curses resounding throughout the breaking dawn.

Ezra was barely aware of seeing the other peace keepers charging toward the saloon from various locations as slapping at Chaucer's rump to move the horse, he flung his room door open, and raced for the stair landing.

The con man skidded to a halt, his mouth hanging open, the gun dropping to his side as he stared down at the unbelievable scene below him.

Welding a broom, her toes peeking out from beneath the long white nightgown which concealed her sensuous body, Inez jumped aside with another high shrill shriek, pressing closer to the wall as the other six peace keepers rushed through the batwing doors, inadvertently colliding with each other as they slid to a stunned stop.

Ezra knew their expressions now matched his, as he was completely certain he was caught up in some weird dream, for there was no way possible cattle were inside the saloon, milling around the gambling tables and chairs.

"Get these beasts out of here or I will shoot everyone one of them and you can drag out their dead bodies!"

Inez’s demand broke the spell and as the sound of her stamping a bare foot against the wooden floor reached his ears, Ezra knew it wasn’t a dream.

Tucking his revolver in his waistband, the gambler hurried down the steps to assist his friends.

The barmaid and sheriff held the doors open as, careful to avoid the horns, the men worked together to cautiously herd each steer through the opening and into the street.

Shop keepers exchanged puzzled expressions wondering what was happening to their town, as the cattle, their hoofs clattering on the wooden planks of the boardwalk, their loud lowing punctuating their bewilderment and disapproval, tramped out of the saloon onto the dirt road where a half naked Wilmington pushed them toward one of the livery corrals.

As the last brindle rump vanished thru the door, Ezra turned to the barmaid. "Inez, my dear, if you will send someone after Mister Simpson, I will be happy to contribute an extra dollar to this weeks pay for his expediency in cleaning up the mess left by our late night visitors."

Jake Simpson was an older gentleman with a bum leg the Mexican woman had hired to help sweep up the floors each night, and wipe down the tables. The old man had been a top hand in his day, but unable to ride now, Inez had taken pity on him and he happily worked each evening and scrubbed the floors every Sunday night for meals and a dollar a week.

Ezra finally turned to his fellow peace keepers. "If you gentlemen have a moment more to spare, I could use your assistance." He hurried up the steps to his room, the lawmen following.

"Make it quick, Ezra, there's a problem at the boarding...." Larabee's words trailed off as the gambler threw open the door to his room and they found themselves staring at the south end of Standish's horse.

Ezra ached an eyebrow in wry amusement. "You were saying, Mister Larabee....?"

"Damn, Ez... I know ya love that horse a helluva lot, but ain't bringin' him ta bed with ya a mite inconvenient?" Nathan quipped, drawing chuckles from Buck and JD.

"Maybe he can't afford ta keep him in the stable." Buck snickered. "Ain't really had a decent game lately."

"Perhaps, Mister Wilmington, I simply wish to tell the ladies I can show them a real stud in the bedroom...and I don't mean you."

The men all stared at the gambler in shock and Ezra quirked an eyebrow at the tracker as Vin ducked his head to hide the lopsided grin. "At least Chaucer is an extremely intelligent animal, unlike that loathsome creature I saw exiting Mister Tanner's wagon before our impromptu cattle drive."

JD looked at the ex-bounty hunter in confusion. "What kinda creature?"

"A damn billy goat," Tanner grumbled, casting a suspicious look at the womanizer. "Damn thing done ate part a my supplies and was chewin' on my coat when I woke up. Got madder than hell when I took it away from him. Ya'd think I was the one invadin' his home ‘stead a the other way around."

"We can talk about this a little later. Let's get Chaucer in his stall so we can get back before Mrs. Riley decides to wake me up," Larabee growled.

Only Vin and Ezra seemed to realize the gunslinger still hadn't stated what problem existed at the boarding house and neither deemed this the right time to ask.

Following Josiah's suggestion, the men pushed the bed as far as possible from the gelding, giving the animal and men room to maneuver. Obeying Ezra's soft voiced commands, trusting the other men to help as they gently lay guiding hands on his sides, Chaucer slowly backed from the room.

Pawing at the wooden floorboards, the large animal shied and balked as they reached the head of the stairs.

Inez, talking with Simpson about the needed clean up, wasn't sure which she found more surprising, being awakened by a saloon full of cattle or seeing Standish's loyal companion standing on the upper landing.

Removing the halter, Ezra descended several steps, and commanded the horse to follow. Everyone held their breath, watching while the gambler making downward progress, stayed a few steps ahead, and softly encouraged and praised the faithful horse as Chaucer slowly picked his way down the staircase.

"I shall meet you gentlemen in Mister Larabee's room momentarily." Ezra stated with the dignity of a king as he paused by the door.

Inez bit back a smile as the gambler tipped his hat at her before proceeding the animal through the batwings. She couldn't help but wonder if the con man, who had always been taught appearances were everything, realized how ridiculous he looked wearing only his nightshirt, trousers and hat, the chestnut gelding following him down the street like some overgrown puppy.

*******

It was unthinkable the number of people who chose to begin their day at the crack of dawn. It was barely seven a.m. and yet the small town was already coming alive with activity.

As he left the stables, Ezra could hear the commotion from inside the boarding house before he was within calling distance. Shouts of frustration, the crash of dishes and what sounded like furniture being overturned mixing remarkably well with the uproarious and very recognizable laughter of the preacher and the womanizer.

Ignoring the curious stares aimed in his direction, cursing the stone which dug into his heel, the gambler rushed onto the boarding house porch.

"I got it!" JD yelled.

"Don't open that door!" Larabee's frantic warning came a second too late as, intent on defending his friends, the con man yanked open the screen barrier.

Standish immediately stumbled backward, tumbling off the porch as the young sheriff, his arms wrapped tightly around the thick neck of a large pinkish gray creature, was dragged across the threshold, slamming into the gambler's legs.

"Don't let go, JD! Damnit, Buck, grab it! It ain't gonna bite ya!" Chris' shouts combined with Mrs. Riley's thickly accented threats as Ezra pulled himself from the ground, grimacing at the mud covering his clothes. It was just his rotten luck! The one puddle left from a previous rainstorm and he had to find it.

At JD’s cry of dismay, Standish threw himself at the sow as, losing his grip, Dunne was sent rolling into the wall.

"Would someone care to explain this unusual situation?" The gambler panted, attempting to wrestle the squirming animal into submission.

"Chris woke up ta find Mama there feedin' her babies in his room." The young sheriff gasped, pushing to his feet and shaking his head to clear away the fuzziness.

The gambler was aware, on the ground floor of the boarding house Larabee's room was the only one with an outside door. He had requested it special as it allowed him the freedom to come and go at all hours without disturbing any other residents.

JD couldn't help it. His shrill laughter mixed with that of the early morning spectators as, squealing with fright, the creature Standish straddled, suddenly lunged to its feet.

With a surprised squeal of his own, practically stretched out on the sow's back, Ezra automatically tightened his hold.

Laughter filled the air, people scattering out of the way as the enormous sow raced about the small yard trying desperately to dislodge the con man who was clinging to her for dear life.

"I could use some help, gentlemen!" The gambler yelled helplessly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice, when the others rushed onto the porch.

"Ride 'im, Cowboy!" Wilmington whooped, slapping his leg in amusement.

Struggling to bring his own laughter under control, Josiah rushed to the middle of the yard and stood bouncing on the balls of his feet, his arms spread wide, his blue gray eyes never leaving the pig and its reluctant rider.

Realizing what the preacher had in mind, Larabee jumped from the end of the porch, chasing the animal back in the direction of the ex-priest. His emerald eyes widening in comprehension, the gambler released his hold when, his timing precise, Sanchez leaped, tackling the animal and dragging her to the ground.

A string of muttered curses left the gambler's lips as he pulled himself once more out of the one lone mud hole.

"Y'all get your asses back in there and get them babies," Chris ordered, moving to help the preacher. As the gambler struggled to his feet, the gunfighter added, "Not you, Ezra! Mrs. Riley'll really have my ass you track that shit all over her house."

Tanner, arms full of baby pig, choked back a chuckle as the con man staggered onto the porch, gently retrieving the piglet from the sharpshooter's care. Carrying the baby as carefully as he would a human child, Ezra returned to where the ex-priest and gunslinger held its mother, both men talking soothingly to the frightened animal.

Kneeling, Standish placed the piglet beside its mother, smiling widely as the baby immediately found a teat and began to nurse. The sow grunted, snuffling at the baby and settled down with the presence of at least one of her babes.

It was just over an hour later when Nathan closed the gate on the pen behind the livery, enclosing mother and all nine piglets inside, and sagged wearily against the fence.

"Well, Wilmington, I hope ta hell ya had a good laugh cause you're gonna be payin'-" Chris began.

"Whoa there, Cowboy!" Buck held up his hands in surrender. "This weren’t my doin’."

"He's right, Chris." Josiah agreed. "If he was gonna play a practical joke, he sure wouldn't a pulled one like yesterday on hisself."

"What the hell happened yesterday?" The blond looked at the four men in puzzlement.

"If it is agreeable with you gentlemen, I suggest we move this discussion to the saloon." Ezra pulled at the damp nightshirt clinging to his skin. "I think we've drawn enough attention and I, for one, would dearly appreciate the opportunity to clean up."

"Guess we should all get dressed." Tanner agreed suddenly realizing he wore only his trousers, the suspenders pulled up on his bare shoulders.

"I'm sure the town would be most appreciative if we were more properly attired before sitting down to breakfast."

"Ya don't eat breakfast, Ezra." The sheriff pointed out.

"A morning ride always leaves me with an appetite." The gambler retorted sarcastically. Stifling a self satisfied smile at their stunned expressions, he turned and started for his room. "I shall see you gentlemen shortly. I shall relish a large serving of bacon....."

*******

The others were already gathered at their usual table when the gambler strolled down the stairs, straightening the cuffs of his jacket. He crossed to where Simpson was mopping the floor, pressing several bills into the old man's hand before joining his compatriots, nodding his thanks as Nathan pushed a plate of food, with an extra helping of bacon, in front of him.

"Now, would someone care to offer an explanation for this morning's rather unique occurrences?" The gambler asked, wiping at the corners of his mouth after several bites of biscuits and gravy. "Mister Wilmington?"

"Done told ya before it wasn't me!" The womanizer shook his head vehemently as all eyes turned his direction. "Gotta admit though... I wished I'da thought of it.... Seein' Ezra ridin' that pig..." The slow chuckle built into a roar of laughter, carrying the other men along.

The gambler grinned. "At least I was properly covered rather than herding cattle down the street wearing nothing more than my half fastened trousers."

Buck smiled widely. "But the women sure enjoyed the view."

"I'm sure all the ladies found their sneak peeks at Mister Tanner's well defined physique more enjoyable as something they don't get to see everyday." Hoping Vin took the comment as the compliment it was meant to be, the con man hid his smile behind his coffee cup as the sharpshooter blushed and the other men began teasing Buck about losing his spot with the ladies to Tanner.

"Well, Brother Ezra, I wish you could have seen Brother Nathan trying to squeeze behind Mrs. Riley's china cabinet in an effort to retrieve the runt of that litter." Josiah laughed. "Thought he was gonna end up stuck back there for sure."

"At least I weren't afraid it was gonna take a chunk outta me." Nathan scoffed. "The way Bucklin was carryin' on, ya'd a thought those babies was gonna eat him alive!"

"So does anyone have any idea what the hell is goin’ on?" Larabee broke in, turning the conversation back to the original topic.

JD shrugged."Accordin' ta that note... some sorta revenge."

"What note?"

The sheriff cringed at the gunslinger's growl, digging into his pocket and producing a torn piece of brown paper on which was sloppily written: 'Revenge is Sweet'

"Me and Buck did a late patrol night before last and then went ta sleep... Least ways I did... Buck was with Molly..." He ducked, avoiding the playful swat the womanizer aimed at his head. It was unusual for no one to be at the jail during the night, but with several peace keepers out of town and no prisoners to guard, it wasn't as if it was imperative someone be there.

"Anyways, this was nailed to the jail door the next mornin'."

"So tell 'em what else ya found at the jail," Nathan added, chuckling.

Dunne fidgeted in the chair, his eyes on the tabletop. "Chickens," he muttered lowly.

"Excuse me?" The southerner leaned forward, uncertain he'd heard the barely audible word correctly. "Did you say chickens?"

"Yeah! I said chickens!" The young sheriff tried to give them a Larabee glare, failing miserably as they once more choked back laughter. "Both cells were full of chickens!"

"Didn't think we were ever gonna get the damn things back in those crates," Buck groused.

"Spent all day yesterday scubbin' down the jail just tryin' ta get rid a the stink and the feathers," JD grumbled.

"Crates?" Tanner looked even more puzzled.

"Found a bunch a boxes in the alley behind the jail. Weren't no sign a who put 'em there though." Wilmington turned to the preacher and healer whose faces were bright red with suppressed laughter. "So tell 'em about your discoveries."

Larabee, Tanner and Standish immediately turned their attention to the two men who suddenly found the tabletop as interesting as JD had just moments earlier.

"Well?" Chris persisted when neither man spoke up.

"Rabbits." The ex-slave shrugged. "Woke up and found about a dozen jackrabbits makin' their long eared selves at home in the clinic."

Lips pressed tightly together against the building laughter, the three men looked to the preacher.

"Seven sheep," he admitted.

"Oh how baaa....dly appropriate!" The gambler's comment was their undoing and all three men roared with unrestrained laughter.

The blond gunslinger wiped at the tears in the corners of his eyes and finally got himself under control "Okay, so back to the original question. Do we have any idea who our practical joker is?"

"Someone with baaaaa.....d taste," Ezra whispered to Vin, causing him to lose it all over again. Chris glared at the southerner who ignored the look.

JD, not hearing the gambler’s remark, shook his head. "Nope, no idea."

"Has anyone stepped forward to claim the poultry that chose to roost in our humble jail?" The con man questioned.

"Not so far, but that was only yesterday."

"So there is a chicken plucker amongst us," Ezra remarked to Vin , and again Vin busted up.

Josiah grinned as like a father disciplining his errant children, Chris moved his chair over between the two men, separating them. He gave Ezra a fierce Larabee stare, but the gambler, having decided humor was due to him since his early rising, simply stared back blandly. Vin had managed to straighten up and attempting to be of some help, offered,

"Them cattle bellyin’ up ta the bar this mornin’ was wearin' Jeb Sloan's brand. Guess maybe they’s sick of only milk or water ta drink. Decided ta try some Ez's good scotch whiskey."

Ezra managed to control his laughter by coughing loudly, again earning a Larabee glare. Realizing the older man was at his limit, the gambler leaned back, satisfied he had done his bit to add further levity to the morning’s happenings.

The seven peace keepers fell silent. They all knew Jeb Sloan owned the closest ranch outside of town. The man had been one of the first settlers in the Four Corners area and while friendly enough, other than for supplies, the hardworking rancher came to town only for community celebrations or church on Sundays.

He'd fought Indians, outlaws and everything Mother Nature could throw his way in order to hold onto his small piece of territory. Determined to build a legacy for his family, having seen too many towns disappear into the dust and always looking to the future, Jeb was constantly seeking ways to make his property more profitable and self sustaining.

Early on, against everyone’s advice and raising the ire of the area’s cattle men, he'd brought in a small flock of sheep, stubbornly arguing if they could survive on the sparse grassland in the southern part of his property, they would not only provide food, but wool either for their own use or to be sold. A range war had been avoided only because at that time he had no neighbors.

"Jeb back yet?" Chris questioned.

"Supposed ta be on tomorrow's stage." The preacher provided the answer to Larabee's question having talked with Mrs. Sloan after church the past Sunday. The rancher had been away just under a month checking on new stock. The preacher silently hoped it wasn’t more sheep. "Mrs. Sloan's as excited as a new bride."

"Reckon we should all welcome him back ta town." Tanner grinned, receiving nods of approval from his friends.

*******

Seated outside the saloon the next afternoon, Chris tilted the chair on its back legs, observing the people planning to meet the arrival or depart on the stage.

Slouched against the porch post nearby, Vin silently tilted his head in the direction of the approaching buggy.

Mrs. Sloan drove the surrey, her daughter Rachel beside her. Her teenage sons, Joseph and Seth, followed on horseback.

Tanner dropped his gaze to the dirt street, hiding a smile and pretending not to notice as the two boys nudged each other as they glanced over at the saloon. He could barely hear their shared guffaws as they following their mother and sister into the restaurant.

It hadn’t taken much detective work on the lawmen’s part to track down the owners of the miscreant livestock. Ben Jacobs whose small farm sat at the edge of town had arrived to claim the sow and piglets, apologizing profusely for any damage the animals might have caused.. He had awoken that morning to find the pen open, although he assured them, he had no idea how it had happened.

Later, the Carter children, from the second farm out east of town, had chased down their goat looking gratefully, at Tanner who politely interrupted their mother's stern lecture on tying the rope more securely at night to keep the animal contained in their yard. The tracker had pointed out while the goat may have chewed through the rope, all indications were the goat had been released.

Vin knew Ezra and Chris were just as worried as he was that they had all been exhausted enough to sleep through someone entering their rooms --or wagon as the case may be-- without being awakened. They each had enemies and sleeping that soundly could mean their lives.

As they had puzzled over the who and why, Ezra had suggested possible answers to the questions. There had been no one at the jail so that one was simple. The jail door was never locked and someone had just entered and released the fowl.

The goat had simply been lifted over the tailgate of Vin’s wagon and gently set on the wagon floor and Chris had admitted he had been especially quiet upon entering his boarding house room, not wanting to awaken anyone else in the building. He hadn't even bothered to light the lamp in his room, so it was very possible mama pig and her babies were already there sleeping contentedly upon his entrance.

Everyone in town knew Josiah slept in the back room of the church therefore it was plausible he hadn't heard the sheep brought into the church itself and being a hot night, it would have been no problem at all for someone to slip the rabbits one by one through Nathan's open window. It wasn't as if they were noisy creatures.

However, it did bother the gambler more than he cared to admit the only explanation for Chaucer’s appearance in his room was that he had slept through the gelding's entrance. How tired had he been not to lock the door behind him, let alone not hear the clump of the horse’s hooves on the wooden steps, or his movements into the room?

*******

Now, seated at the corner table in the restaurant, JD watched the Sloan boys exchanging knowing looks and winks, barely containing their laughter as they listened to the surrounding conversations. Everyone was talking about the animal misadventures of their magnificent seven.

The Wells Fargo agent poked his head inside the door, a courtesy to departing passengers. "Stage is comin'!"

Dunne smiled wondering if Casey would be as excited to see him as Mrs. Sloan seemed to be at the prospect of seeing her husband.

Quickly shoving money into the waitress' hand to pay for their meals, the woman herded her brood out the door and down the boardwalk to join the people gathering in front of the station.

"Why Mrs. Sloan what a pleasant addition your smile adds to this day." Ezra greeted the woman with a gentlemanly tip of his hat. "Miss Rachel, you're growing to be as lovely as your mother."

The ten-year-old giggled and her brothers rolled their eyes at what they considered the gambler's fancy ways.

"Joseph, Seth." Ezra nodded to the boys. The brothers were so much alike that upon first meeting them, most people assumed they were twins rather than a year apart in age, Joseph being the oldest at fifteen. "Haven't you boys been sleeping well? You look a mite tired, like you’ve missed sleeping at night."

"Been ridin' night herd." Joseph smirked. "Some a us got more important things ta do than sit on our butts in a saloon all the time."

"Joseph! You apologize this instant, young man!" Mrs. Sloan rebuked, her cheeks reddening in anger and embarrassment. "I taught you better manners than to be insolent to your elders."

"Sorry." The boy’s one word lacked any pretense of sincerity.

"Perfectly understandable. When one is unused to late hours, it does tend to make a person unusually discontented... Just as not getting their way tends to make a spoiled child throw a temper tantrum." The gambler smiled watching Seth shuffle his feet nervously as Nathan stepped from the stage depot and leaned against the wall.

"Do you have someone arriving on the stage, Mister Standish?" Mrs. Sloan questioned, fairly bouncing with excitement as the stage came into view.

"Of that I'm not certain." He smiled turning as the passenger vehicle came into sight. "I try to meet the stage as often as possible. My enchanting mother has a tendency to pop up unexpectedly and would be upset if I wasn't here to greet her. No matter that she never seems to see fit to forewarn me of her imminent arrival."

Ezra stepped aside as the stagecoach rolled to a stop. Mrs. Sloan immediately rushed into her husband's arms as the big man stepped from the coach. After a brief hug and quick kiss, he greeted his children, shaking the boys’ hands and bringing a squeal of delight as he lifted his daughter from her feet in a loving bear hug.

Appearing to be casually strolling down the boardwalk with Tanner in the direction of Vin's wagon, the blond gunslinger paused in front of the depot to light a cheroot as the disembarking passengers greeted their loved ones.

"Welcome back, Jeb." Shaking out the match and tossing the burnt wood into the street, Chris stepped forward, shaking the rancher's hand as the other passengers collected their luggage and moved away. "Any luck?"

"Picked up some real nice stock." The big man answered, obviously pleased with the results of his trip. "Damn glad ta be back though." He glanced around the dusty street. "Anything excitin' been happenin' here?"

Vin ducked his head to hide his lopsided smile as Joseph's own smile of satisfaction faded when Wilmington and Dunne joined the small group gathered on the boardwalk.

"The last few days have been.... interesting." Chris admitted. "Was gonna invite ya over to the saloon for a drink afore ya head home. Do some catchin' up, but seein' as how that wouldn't be appropriate for the ladies..." Larabee stifled the smile that threatened to erupt as he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eyes, of the two boys exchanging furtive glances. "Was hopin' ta have a word with ya, though."

"Perhaps a cup of coffee, at the jail, Mister Larabee." Ezra suggested. "Mister Dunne has become quite proficient at brewing a half way palatable pot. "There a problem?" Sloan glanced around, suddenly aware of the town's other peace keepers encircling his family. "There been some sorta trouble at the ranch?" Jeb looked at his wife, seeing her confused expression.

The gunslinger shrugged. "Probably nothin' ta worry about, but we do got a few questions. Would like ta get a jump on any situation before it becomes a major problem."

Tanner choked back his laughter, seeing the twinkle of amusement in Ezra's green eyes as they watched Joseph and Seth unconsciously take a step backward, startled, the color draining from their faces as the formidable preacher laid a large hand on each boy's shoulder. "Why don't ya join us, boys? Might be some information you can impart that'll help us out."

"I'll put this in the buggy for ya." JD offered, lifting Sloan's carpet bag and crossing to the livery as the others moved toward the jail.

*******

"What seems ta be the problem, Mister Larabee?" Jeb accepted the cup of coffee Wilmington offered as Ezra, always the gentleman, held a chair for Mrs. Sloan.

"Well, Jeb, the last few nights, some of the folks in the surrounding area have had stock come up missin'. Was wonderin' if we might have a problem with rustlers in the area...." Chris poured himself a cup of the coffee, carefully avoiding looking at the rancher's sons. "Ezra said you boys were night herdin’. Ya happen ta see any strangers around your place? Heard any a the hands talkin' about seein' unfamiliar tracks, anything like that?"

"Nope." Joseph, his hands shoved in his pocket, leaned against the wall near the door. "Ain't had no trouble at all."

"That isn't exactly true, Mister Larabee." Their mother spoke up quietly, drawing everyone's attention. "I didn't want to say anything immediately and ruin your homecoming, dear," She quickly explained to her husband. "Slim wanted ta check with some of the hands ridin' the south range afore he come ta town ta talk with the sheriff." Margaret smiled at the youngest of the peacekeepers as he slipped into the small building.

"About what, ma’am?"

"Seems a wagon load a chickens crated up for delivery disappeared a couple of days ago."

"Chickens?" Buck did a passable job of looking puzzled, only by studiously ignoring Seth's nervous fidgeting.

"Some of them were supposed to be delivered to Glendas. Some were for the restaurant and the others were gonna be taken ta Ridgeton for sale to the restaurant and hotel there. Mose thought maybe Slim had someone else take 'em so he didn't say anything right away, but then we had some sheep come up missin', too." The woman explained.

"Them chicken crates got any kind a markin' on 'em?" Vin asked before the rancher could release his growing anger.

"Yeah, there's a small S on the bottom right corner a each one, sos I’d know which ones were mine." Jeb nodded his thanks as Nathan topped off his coffee. "Unfortunately, ya can't brand sheep. How many head we lose?"

Mrs. Sloan sighed. "Seven ewes."

Only the peace keepers seemed aware of Joseph carefully avoiding his younger brother's worried gaze as their parents talked.

"Ya know, almost sounds like someone's tryin' ta stock their own place." Nathan sighed. "The only newcomers I know who's just gettin’ started are them Petersons. Bought Hank Farrell's old place," he clarified.

"Makes sense." Josiah agreed. "It sits on the edge a your land, Jeb, and it’s pretty run down. Man don’t rightly strike me as a thief, but only the Lord knows what’s in a man’s heart. Without money, it'd take a right goodly amount ta fix up that house and with all them youngun's ta feed..." He shook his grizzled head sadly. "Man might be tempted..."

Larabee nodded. "Maybe we oughta saddle up and ride out there, give the place a once over." He opened the desk drawer and removed a pair of hand cuffs. "Bring Mister Peterson in for questioning... Figure he'll fess up. Jail's better than hangin' for rustlin’ livestock."

"Of course, Mister Larabee, it might be wise to keep this as quiet as possible," Ezra commented somberly. "We all know how ranchers feel about rustlers. I would hate to be unprepared if they decided to take justice into their own hands."

"Chickens and some sheep are no reason to hang someone, Mister Standish!" Mrs. Sloan retorted, her tone strident. "I've met the Petersons. They're good Christian folk who are simply trying to make a better life for their children. I'm sure they have nothing to do with this and even if they did..."

"Chris’ right, Margaret." Jeb argued. "Ain't no never mind that stealin's not only a sin, but a crime.. Ranchers start missin' cattle, they're gonna wanna see somebody punished."

"Chickens and sheep aren't cattle."

"They are considered livestock, ma’am," JD pointed out.

"There in lies another problem, Mrs. Sloan." Chris sighed. "We've got about a dozen head a cattle with your brand on 'em, out behind the livery. Boys reckon someone musta rustled them and they broke loose. Hard ta tell how many more ol’ Peterson’s gotten away with."

"Reckon we better ride out there and see what else they might have that don't belong ta them." Slouched next to the gun cabinet behind the desk, Tanner pulled his mare's leg from its holster, checking the loads, and snapping it closed with a loud click as the other peace keepers following his lead and began checking their own weapons. "Hope ol’ Peterson's smart enough not ta give us no trouble. Don't need no range war, but I'd hate ta make his wife a widda or leave them little youngins' without a pa."

The ex-bounty hunter was gratified to see Seth's eyes widened in alarm as he nudged his older brother. The tracker, no stranger to practical jokes himself, knew exactly what the boys were thinking: This was supposed to be a joke. People weren't supposed to get hurt.

"Is that really necessary?" Mrs. Sloan's eyes widened in alarm. "You have no proof the Petersons had anything to do with our missing stock!"

"That's what we intend ta find out. Call it preventive medicine, ma'am." The healer crossed to remove a rifle from the cabinet. "We want to stop any further trouble before it starts, and if the man’s a rustler, stands to reason he’s passed that bad blood on to his own boys... Maybe we can keep one of them from followin’ in their daddy’s boot steps... Yep, that’s preventive medicine...."

"Kinda like tossin' a couple a unruly kids outta a saloon before they can cause a full blown brawl." The dark clad gunslinger turned his hazel gaze to the two brothers. "We'll do what we can ta see nobody gets hurt."

"Mister Larabee, it might be prudent if we give this plan more serious contemplation." Ezra replaced the Colt six-shooter on his hip, drawing his Remington from his shoulder holster, quickly checking and replacing the weapon. "Upon further consideration, there appears to be several flaws in our theory."

Chris arched his eyebrows as he turned to stare at the gambler. "Such as?"

"Perhaps the missing sheep were lost to the region’s wildlife."

Jeb shook his head. "Doubt it. The boys I hired to care for 'em live in a small cabin out there and them sheepdogs would a died ta protect 'em."

"Interesting...." The gambler frowned, seeming to contemplate the new information.

"Whatcha thinkin', Ez?" JD questioned.

"Mrs. Sloan is correct in pointing out that other than being new to the area, we have no proof the Petersons are involved in the current circumstances. I'm assuming the dogs wouldn't let a stranger, or two.... someone they hadn't seen before, just wander off with the animals they were supposed to be protecting...." The southerner rubbed his thumb over his lower lip, appearing to be deep in thought as he paced in front of the cells. "I suppose the stolen chickens could have been simply a easy way to make a profit... Joseph stated earlier he and Seth have been riding night watch, but as we all know from experience, you can't be everywhere at once..."

"You sayin' we weren't doin' our jobs??" The older brother squared his shoulders, staring at the gambler in outright indignation.

"Not at all. I'm simply trying to ascertain how a complete stranger might have made off with your various stock.... It is possible the cattle we discovered simply wandered off in search of something to quench their thirst... or better grazing. The grass is always greener...."

Josiah covered his snort of amusement with a cough.

"Could be one of yer hired hands," Larabee offered. "Ya got any pissed off--pardon me, ma’am--any upset waddies carryin’ a grudge against ya, Jeb?"

"That could be a distinct possibility, Mister Larabee, and it could even explain the note..." Ezra declared with feeling, ignoring the preacher who was nearly doubled over with a coughing fit.

"I refuse to believe that!" Mrs. Sloan stated adamantly glancing nervously at the preacher, then focusing on the gambler. "Most of the hands have been with us from the beginning and none of them are thieves!"

Jeb shushed her with a motion of his hand, as he questioned seriously, "What note?"

"Have you had trouble with the Petersons or anyone else for that matter, who might wish to seek retribution against you?" Standish pretended not to hear the rancher's question.

"Not before I left." The big man glanced at his sons who shook their heads, both boys staring at the floorboards. "What note," he repeated louder, " and just where did ya find my cattle?"

"I don't know, Ez...More I think on it, I kinda get the feelin' that note was meant for us." Wilmington shrugged. "I mean, iffen it were meant for the Sloans, wouldn't it just been left at the ranch, rather than nailed to the door a the jail?"

Seth's head jerked up at the mention of the letter, all color draining from his face. Seeing the peace keepers watching him, he turned to stare out the window.

"That does make sense, Buck." Larabee nodded in agreement. "And I'd wager we've made our fair share of enemies."

Ezra nodded somberly. "Yes, that would seem logical. It was left for us, to see if we’d chicken out and turn yella and run...or perhaps hide in a hole like jackrabbits."

Josiah fell into another cough fit, turning away from the group and moving to lean against the far wall, his back to his companions.

"What note, damnit!" the rancher bellowed.

Gathered to the side in a small group, less Josiah, the peacekeepers talked among themselves, seeming to have completely forgotten the Sloan family’s presence.

"Oh, sorry, Mister Sloan."JD pulled the wrinkled brown paper from the desk drawer, passing it to Sloan. "We found this tacked ta the door, couple days ago."

"Who else has lost stock?" Mrs. Sloan asked.

"Had a farmer lost his milk cow and-" Josiah began, having gotten himself under control..

"Jacobs is lyin'! Weren't no damn milk cow!" Immediately realizing his mistake, Joseph quickly amended, "Heard the folks at the restaurant talkin... said it was a sow and piglets and he got 'em back."

His back to the boys, Josiah smiled at his friends, his expression plainly saying: 'Gotcha!!'

"Ya said ya found some a our cattle," Sloan studied the wrinkled paper. "Where were they?"

"In the saloon, bellyin’ up ta the bar fer a drink."

Joseph snickered at Tanner's answer, avoiding the look of amazement on his parents’ faces.

"Where did ya say?" Jeb questioned, disbelief in his voice.

"They’s in the saloon. Unfortunately, Miss Recillios isn't a ranch hand, but is very proficient with a shotgun." Ezra shook his head pitifully. "Of course the money she'll procure on steak dinners will more than make up for the damages to the saloon."

"Oh shit.... She killed 'em?" Seth suddenly looked as if he were going to be sick as his older brother nudged him into silence.

"Figure her foot will heal in time and hopefully she won't have a limp the rest a her life." Nathan sighed. "Don’t think she’d started shootin’ ‘em, ‘till that one brindle heifer hooked her favorite nightgown...."

"Damn...damn...damn..." the youngest brother swore under his breath.

"Shut up, Seth." His older brother ordered with an frightened hiss as everyone's attention focused on the teenagers.

Jeb turned to his sons."You boys know something about this?"

"Why would we know anything about it?" Joseph gazed at spot on the far wall. "'Cept for church, till taday, we ain't left the ranch since ya been gone."

"That ain't true, Pa!" Rachel spoke up. "Heard them both talkin' 'bout how they sneaked inta town a couple weeks ago."

"Mind yer business, sis!" Her brother growled. "Ya don't know what yer talkin' about! We got no reason ta be tryin' ta get revenge."

"Do so!! I heard ya..." the little girl persisted.

"That's enough, Joseph." Mrs. Sloan had taken the note from her husband. "This talks about revenge..."

"So?" Joseph put up a show of bravado.

"Don't you get insolent with me, young man!" His mother snapped. "This is your handwriting."

Jeb peered over her shoulder at the note."You sure, Margaret?"

"I recognize my own son's handwritin', Jeb... And I know my boys." While Joseph continued to maintain a expression of defiance, neither boy could meet their mother’s eyes. "I know when they're happy or sad or angry or hidin' somethin' and I know when they're up ta somethin'...I knew they'd snuck inta town, but since they were back before it got too late and didn't seem ta have gotten inta trouble, I let it pass." She turned to her youngest son. "What do you have to say for yourself, Seth?"

Seth's gaze darted about the room, resting briefly on each person. He glanced from his brother to his mother and back again before dropping his gaze to the floor. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he poked the toe of his boot at a stain on the floor in front of him.

"Yer ma asked you a question, boy!" Jeb roared.

Seth flinched, licking at dry lips. "Nobody was supposed to get hurt. It was just a joke!" The words spilled forth in a rush. "We just wanted ta pay 'em back! Nobody was supposed ta get hurt I swear... Tell 'em, Joseph! It was just a joke!"

"Pay 'em back for what?" Jeb demanded.

"Why don't you boys wait outside while we have a talk with your folks?" Larabee suggested, stifling a chuckle as Seth practically jumped for the exit.

"Better yet," both boys froze at their mother's voice, "meet me at the Cottonwood grove."

Their heads dropping between slumped shoulders, the boys slipped dejectedly out the door.

"Miss Rachel, I was wondering if you would do me a favor," Standish stooped before the child, handing her a silver coin. "Would you find Mrs. Travis and buy me the latest edition of the newspaper? If it's all right with your mother, you can stop at the general store on the way back and get yourself some peppermints."

"Sure thing, Mister Standish." The little girl grinned, seeing her mother's nod of approval.

"Get enough to share with your brothers," Ezra whispered in her ear. "I think they're gonna need it."

*******

The peace keepers were content to let Josiah explain to the Sloans what had happened the night the boys slipped into town without supervision. It seemed Joseph and Seth had become angry when Inez had taken their orders for two beers and served them Sarsaparilla instead, drawing laughter from the other men in the saloon.

Joseph had been less then appreciative when Ezra had refused to allow him to join his poker game, explaining he didn't think it was fair to the other players to allow someone with the teenager's expert skill into the game after it had already started.

Sanchez felt he had only made matters worse by hurting the boys' pride when he suggested they should finish their drinks and head back to the ranch before it got to late, reminding them their parents wouldn't exactly approve of their current activities.

Joseph had haughtily pointed out they weren't much younger than the supposed sheriff of Four Corners and just as much men as anyone in the saloon and they would take on all comers to prove it, too.

Teasing comments from other patrons had brought irritated retorts and the peace keepers had finally intervened before the situation escalated to blows with Larabee ordering the teenagers home before he had JD arrest them for disturbing the peace.

"At least their revenge was fairly harmless," Wilmington pointed out with a chuckle. "And pretty damn funny... Sorry, ma'am."

"What about Miss Inez?" The rancher's tone clearly displayed his worry for the young woman.

"Simple splinter." Nathan was quick to assure them. "I just wanted them to think about what could have happened."

"What exactly was their revenge?" The twinkle in Margaret Sloan's brown eyes told the men she knew exactly how imaginative her sons could be.

It was several minutes after Buck finished describing the different surprises the peace keepers had been graced with before the laughter faded enough for the woman to excuse herself, telling her husband they would meet him and Rachel at the livery.

"Margaret says I'm too soft hearted to discipline the younguns properly." Jeb shook his head in amusement. "Those two could be my age and if she thought they were gettin' inta trouble she'd still take a switch ta their backsides."

"They're good boys, Jeb." Josiah grinned. "She just aims ta keep 'em that way."

*******

The peace keepers were gathered around the table outside the saloon when the Sloan family headed for home. The boys had apologized to everyone and Jeb had made restitution for any damages, assuring the boys they'd be working off the payments and made arrangements with Yosemite to keep the cattle until a couple hands could retrieve them.

The seven men exchanged grins watching the two teenagers squirming in their saddles in vain attempts to find a comfortable seat.

"They was right, ya know." Tanner glanced at his friends and seven voices spoke simultaneously. "Revenge IS sweet."

THE END