Pride and Old West Prejudice

By William J.

Author's Note; As you can tell by the title, this has nothing to do with 'Darcy's Auto', hope you like it...

Chapter I

Posted on Monday, 1 March 1999

"Excuse me, Bill, I just wanted to know, if its not too much trouble mind you, could you take a break from your nap and participate in the learning going on here?" Mrs. Robinson asked sarcastically. All the girls giggled when Bill Darcy's face turned beet red. He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep during school. Bill had been practicing roping all the night before, at seven-teen, he hadn't been on a cattle drive yet. His father worked as an eye glass salesman, he had a shop in town with big red letters on the glass that said George Darcy's Spectacles, Bill couldn't imagine why you would want to work at something that boring, when you could be driving cattle across the prairie, Besides, Bill thought, the market for cattle is at a, what did Pa call it, prime. Bill had a brain sharp as a rattler's fang, but seldom used it for anything useful.

"Bill, you got it in your mind you gotta shoot Indians and get in bar fights and drive cattle to be a man. That ain't how you get there." Bill's Pa told him all the time. Bill, of course, brushed it off and dreamt of getting enough money to buy a horse, and get enough cattle to make him a rich man. "I sure am sorry, Mrs. Robinson. It'll never happen again." Bill said, finding the words finally.

"See that it doesn't, Bill." Mrs. Robinson said sternly. She was a rough teacher, the best kind Bill's Pa said.

When school was out, Bill ran over to Tom Burg's ranch, he was hiring hands for his cattle drive out west. "And just who are you?" a burly man asked stepping out of the barn with a rope over his shoulder. Bill guessed it was probably Tom himself. He was about six foot one, two hundred fifty pounds, and, under the hat Bill also guessed, balding.

"Well, sir, I'm Bill Darcy. I heard you were hiring for your cattle drive out west." he said full-voiced.

"Bill Darcy, huh? Ain't your daddy George Darcy over yunder in town?" he asked pointing toward town, silently examining Bill.

"That's right, but I didn't come here to talk about my daddy. I came here to ask for a job."

"How old are you, son?" Tom asked unsure of what to think.

"I'm seventeen, sir."

"Seventeen huh? Can you rope?"

"Yes sir."

"Can you shoot?"

"I'm a fair shot."

"You got a horse?"

"No sir. I don't." Bill said, not considering the implications not having a horse might have on Tom's decision.

"That's okay. You'll get one. If I let you on. I'm almost full up on man power. Tell me why I should take on a kid like you."

"You got no reason to take me on, sir, but I know I could be a real big help to you."

"You go on home, be here at dawn." with that, Tom turned at went back to the barn.

The yelling caught Bill's attention, then the gunshots. He heard someone scream then yell 'The Wickham gangs a comin'!"

Chapter II

Posted on Tuesday, 2 March 1999

"I told you, whiskey! This is practically water!" yelled George Wickham holding his shot glass up for the bar tender to see. "I could go out to the horse trough and get the same thing as this!" he finished.

"Wickham! I told you before, if you're gonna start trouble in my bar, I'll kick your lousy hide out that door." the big bar tender yelled loud enough for people on the other side of the room to hear.

"Well then why don't you, old man? Bring it on! I'll wipe the floor clean with you then climb back to that bar and get a decent drink!" Wickham yelled equally as loud.

The bar tender pulled out a shotgun and fired a shot in the air. "You're next if you don't settle down Wickham."

Wickham pulled out his six-shooters just as the sheriff walked in, "I heard some shots, thought I'd stop in and see what you boys are doing. Put those guns away, Wickham." the lawman said.

"Sheriff Bennet, you got it all wrong, see me and the 'tender here, just havin' a little disagreement see. Ain't got nothing going on here." Wickham said to sheriff Bennet. At forty-five, five foot ten, and an avid reader, he hated the job of keeping the law. The only part he tolerated well was the deputies that could do most of the dangerous things, and he could sit and read the day away.

"Sheriff, could you kindly sit and taste this Whiskey, Wickham here says it tastes like water." the bar tender asked of the sheriff.

"Oh, if its not got the word 'Burgundy' in it, I usually don't drink it. That stuff is too strong for me." with that he left, book under arm and all.

"Now, bar tender, I want a decent drink, and I want it NOW!" Wickham yelled.

"I don't care what you want, get out of my bar now!" the bar tender yelled back giving Wickham a push.

Wickham wouldn't tolerate this, so he punched the bar tender in the jaw, one of the idle cowboys sitting in the back tapped Wickham on the shoulder and, just as he was turning around, punched Wickham to the floor. This started an all out brawl. The town drunk even got a few shots in before one of gamblers pulled out a gun and stopped it.

A few minutes ticked away until someone came in. The town's clergyman, Mr. Collins, came in and started a game of cards. "Poker, Collins, poker. This ain't bridge night with the womenfolk." one of the other players told him. After a few more moments, sweat could be seen in droplets on Collins' forehead. He was still dressed in his black attire and white collar from the church, perhaps because he was a particularly bad gambler, it was the only thing left in his closet. He later confirmed it by saying, "This suit which you see me in now was my dear late brother's, God rest his soul." As the game played on, he would say things like, "Oh, I forget, does a Flush beat a Full House?" or, "Is this a good hand?" he would ask showing the person next to him his cards.

By this time Wickham was gone, drunk somewhere mumbling something incoherent. No one really knew what he was talking about, so they just ignored him and threw water on him.

Chapter III

Posted on Friday, 5 March 1999

The next day, Bill was up and out of the house headed for Tom's ranch before sun-up. "Tom! Tom! You up?" Bill yelled. Tom walked out with a startled look on his face. He was still in his long johns. "Oh, its you again. What are you doing here again? Oh yeah, my cattle drive. Ok, you're in. Now go home and let me sleep." with that Tom went back inside to presumably sleep. Bill was surprised at his straightforwardness but he did as Tom said and went back to bed. It was after all Saturday. Bill couldn't go back to sleep that morning, so he watched Tom's horses until the sun was fully up. "Maybe I'll get into town and see what's going on." Bill said aloud.

When he got there, there was a crowd by the Saloon. He stopped and asked someone what was happening, "Why, there's a stage that just pulled up. Someone from Boston is comin' right here, so stay, I'm going to go see it now." the man he asked said in a rush. Might as well go see who this guy is comin' in and disturbing this town this early in the morning. thought Bill even though the sun was up. When he walked over, the door on the coach opened and a woman stepped out. She appeared to be a little younger than Bill, but not much. After her stepped out another woman, about the same age as Bill, but taller than the first lady. "Ms. Bennet, Ms. Bingley, I hope you enjoy your short time here. Its not Boston, but we sure think it cozy." the mayor said as he stepped up to them and kissed their hands through the gloves they were wearing.

"Thank you kindly. Could you show us to our rooms?" Ms. Bingley said through gritted teeth.

The other, Ms. Bennet, said nothing but her face was surveying town and she did not look pleased. With that, the crowd broke up and Bill went over to talk to Ms. Bennet. After a greeting from Bill, she said, "Oh, hello, what do you do? Are you a goat roper like many of the other people here?" she asked snootily and walked off without letting Bill answer.

"Can you believe all those asinine fools? They act as if they've never seen a stagecoach! Oh, I do despise those dirty, bumpy rides they give." said Caroline Bingley. "Oh, Caroline, you shouldn't be so hard on them, its not their fault the railroad has not had the stomach to deal with these people and their ignorance." said Elizabeth Bennet misjudging the people in town.

Chapter IV

Posted on Tuesday, 9 March 1999

The next week was filled with excitement as Tom Burg's cattle drive got underway. Ms. Bingley and Ms. Bennet had left town three days before. Partly, Bill guessed, because of meeting William Collins. "My dear ladies, would you honor us the your company with a game of poker?" Collins had asked in his toad-like voice. They turned their noses up rather quickly at this suggestion. Collins, Bill also thought, was looking for an easy game and was quite crushed at their refusal.

"All right, come on, we got to get this wagon train a movin'!" yelled Tom when everyone showed up and the cattle were ready. This raised several shouts of encouragement from the men and they were off. By mid-day, the party was all feeling the effects of a ride across the Texas desert with the sun beating down on them. There was still a long ways to go on the Santa Fe trail, still, morale was high and the bustle of the morning had not worn off. "You and you and you, ride up a little ways and find us a place to camp. Remember, a place for the cattle too." Tom said, at dusk, pointing to Bill, his best friend. Charlie Bingley, and man they had picked along the way named Chuck Musgrove

When they found a place to camp, Bill stayed behind while Charlie and Chuck rode back to the trail. Chuck had refused to stay at camp while Bill and Charlie rode together explaining how he loved to ride, and there wouldn't be any getting him off of it. Bill passed the time by starting a fire and cooking a piece of meat the cook, Chris Brandon, had left him. After a while he heard voices in the distance and they came into camp. After they had eaten, the night shifts began. Chuck Musgrove went first, but when he woke up, Bill heard Chuck and Tom talking, "No, Chuck, you can't take all the watches. Oh, and do not shoot at things on the trail, it gets the cattle spooked. And get off that darn horse, you're going to run the beast to death!"

After that, Bill fell asleep, only to be awakened again by gunfire. There was commotion in the camp until someone figured out what had happened, Brandon's gun had gone off while he was cleaning it. Brandon had informed them earlier he was in the Army and a Colonel at that. "Not very becoming of him!" someone yelled. It was almost dawn when everyone woke up, so Tom decided to have breakfast, and they would get an early start.

"Hey, boss, they're movin'! Boss, wake up!" the watchman said shaking Wickham out of sleep.

"All right, get the men up. We'll follow them when they leave." Wickham said groggily waking up.

When Wickham's gang was ready, the cattle drive was just pulling out for another day of riding. Wickham had a hard time finding places where his gang could not be seen by the scouts on the drive. "Boss, I don't know where to go, besides, even if we do get close, there's that fool with the shotgun shootin' left and right. Musgrove I heard 'em say his name was."

Chapter V

Posted on Thursday, 11 March 1999

"Caroline! What will we do now? The driver went to town and we are stuck here all alone without a wheel." Elizabeth Bennet asked nervously. The right back wheel of their carriage had broken off and the axle split down the middle. The driver had gone to the nearest town with the axle to get it repaired. He also hoped to get a replacement wheel. It was nearing dusk when the two ladies began to think they would be spending a night outside. They could hear coyotes in the distance howling; out of hunger Elizabeth surmised.

"I don't know, but please, stop asking me that. I told you we would be unwise to charter a local carriage......" Caroline said no more for quite a while, until Elizabeth found a box of matches, "Do you know how to start a fire, Ms. Bennet?" Caroline asked in part impatience and part hopefulness. "Yes, I do, Caroline." Elizabeth impressed upon Caroline the coziness of using first names rather than last. It was so formal, Elizabeth thought. Still Caroline was insistent to call everyone by their proper names.

Soon, they had a fire blazing into the night and were eating fresh cheese, bread, and fruit from the picnic basket Elizabeth had packed earlier. Her uncle had taught her to always be prepared, and she had carried that idea all through her life. "What is that? Listen!" Caroline said louder than she usually spoke. Elizabeth heard nothing and was beginning to tell Caroline, but then, what?, she heard the sound of shuffling of many feet and a few voices, We better find a place for camp soon, Tom, its gettin' late. She heard one of the voices say. She recognized the voice from one of the young men she met in town. Billy Darcy was his name?

"Boss? Boss, I see a fire a little above this ridge. Should I go check it out?" asked Chuck Musgrove out of breath. He was the self-appointed scout for the drive and Tom went along with it, anything to keep Chuck's gun pointed away. "Yeah, yeah, go ahead. But do not shoot at it unless it shoots first. All right?" said Tom cautiously. After the talk with Tom, Chuck went over to Bill and asked if he wanted to go. "Sure." was all the response he got, but that was enough. With that they were off to see who had made the fire.

"Caroline? Do you hear? Horse hoof beats. Someone is coming this way!" Elizabeth burst out.

"Probably cattle rustlers... Surrender in a hurry and they'll just take us as hostages. Oh rus--" Caroline's sentence was abruptly stopped by Elizabeth's hand in front of her mouth. "SHH!" Elizabeth shot back. "Oh! Hello! Over here!" Elizabeth yelled flailing her arms at the site of a lone rider. "Howdy ma'am. Ma'am." the rider said tipping his hat to Elizabeth and Caroline. Soon another figure upon a horse rode into their make-shift camp. He tipped his hat and greeted them the same way as the first but Bill soon noticed something about the two women. "Ms..Ms. Bennet? Ms. Bingley? Is that you? Right nice to see you again." Bill said regaining his composure.

Chapter VI

Posted on Thursday, 11 March 1999

"So what you're tryin' to tell me is," Wickham began slowly, "Rodney and his boys got lost out here?" he began speaking louder now. "On all this land? There are no trees, no forests, AND NO WAY TO GET LOST." he finished, yelling.

"Well, uh, Rodney never was too bright. He-he," the gang's scout said trying in vain to lighten George's mood.

"Well I don't want to see you, or your smart mouth, until Rodney comes back! You hear?" Wickham yelled pushing his way to the outside of the camp. What is wrong with that man? He can't get a measly bucket of spring water without getting lost! I swear I'm leadin' a pack of deaf, dumb cattle. George thought when he was on the edge of camp. George's plan was simple, if his boys could get through the month without getting them all lost; steal Tom Burg's cattle before he could sell them, take everybody hostage, and sell the cattle in place of Burg. He sat for a while thinking about how he could get the cattle.

I reckon I could make a big distraction, get everybody away from camp and take the cattle from under their noses. Whatever I do, I'm gonna get me them cows. Well, what have we here? he thought, seeing a light under the bluff they were camped on. He went down the hill a little ways and saw six figures around a campfire: two ladies, two men, and two horses. As he snuck yet closer, he heard them talking about a drive of some sort. Drive? Drive? Cattle drive? Must be a couple of Tom Burg's guys snuck away from camp. Wickham thought with a smile on his face.

He readied his two six-shooters, and went into their camp, "I reckon ya'll are gonna be wantin' to put yer hands up right about now, so's I don't blow 'em off right here. And don't try anything funny! Move!" Wickham shouted pointing the guns at them. He looked around the campfire and saw only three people, "Were's the fourth one of you? Huh?" he was about to ask again when he felt a tug at his shirt, "Hu--" he was cut short by someone clipping him very hard on the jaw, Wickham turned to see Bill Darcy winding up for another shot, Bill took it, soon, Wickham's head was swimming and the darkness was taking over. The last thing he heard was, "Nice shot, Bill!"

The next day Bill, Chuck, Miss Bennet, and Miss Bingley were walking--and the ladies riding--back into camp. It was barely dawn when they came back, but most everyone was awake. Miss Bingley was complaining all the way about getting horse-smell on her dress. "Here, ugh, do something with that please." Bill said taking a big burlap sack off of Ms. Bennet's horse and putting it down on the ground before Tom. Chuck thought it might be a good idea to keep him 'in the dark'.

Tom opened the sack to find a very angry, and sore, George Wickham demanding to be let free. At least that was what Bill thought he was saying, amidst all the cussing Wickham was doing, it was hard to tell. "He's obviously got no respect for a lady." Ms. Bennet said when Wickham woke up the first time.

Chapter VII

Posted on Saturday, 13 March 1999

Tom didn't want to make the decision, but he had to; let Chuck Musgrove guard Wickham. "Now, if you're gonna guard him, your gonna have to contain your trigger finger. It gets a little twitchy, you know." with that, he left Chuck to guard the still furious George Wickham. They were going to camp at the same place that night so they could re-group and figure out what to do with the ladies and Wickham. Later that night, much to Miss Bingley's dislike, they all decided to bring the ladies with them on horses, and leave Wickham with the sheriff of the next town.

"So, um, this is where Beef comes from, eh?" Tom's thoughts were interrupted by Miss Bingley's voice. She was looking at the ravine they had put the cattle in and were watching them from a high perch.

"Well, yes, ma'am, its got to come from somewhere." answered Tom.

"Hmm, you are right, but, I just, I don't know, they're so dirty. I think I've just decided to become a vegetarian. Oh, how I long for the comforts of Boston, the fine wine, the intellectual conversation...." Tom stopped listening when she trailed from the subject of cattle, leaving her talking to the cows. Tom thought she would have realized it was just the cows responding back.

"You know, your uh, sister, she's quite a piece of work, Bingley." Tom said walking over to Charlie who was carving a rod out of a piece of Ash he found along the trail the day before.

"Tell me about it, she was like this as a little girl. All she wanted to do most of the time was sit with mother and her friends and have tea. No bean-stuffed dolls, no knitting, just 'conversation' she called it." Bingley finished.

"She can 'converse' with the cows if she gets tired of Miz Bennet." Tom said with a laugh.

"Hey! You can't do that!" Tom heard Musgrove yell. Tom and Charlie were on their feet and running to the make-shift cell before the yelling stopped. When they got there, they found Wickham over a knocked-out Chuck Musgrove with a gun pointed at Chuck's chest. "I'll kill 'im, I will!" Wickham yelled. By now Brandon and Bill were behind Wickham ready for the right moment to take him.

Tension was mounting when Bill and Brandon moved closer and Wickham pulled the hammer on the six-shooter back. Wickham fired a shot in the air and warned them not to come closer. Tom saw Chuck move a bit and his pulse quickened. Chuck was reaching for his rifle and Tom decided to create a diversion. "Hey, Wickham, you have to take an unconscious man hostage? Where I come from, they would call you a coward." Tom yelled, taunting Wickham. "Shut up old man, or he gets it--" Wickham's words were cut short by two shots right after another.

The first shot came from Wickham's finger slipping onto the trigger and putting a little more weight on than usual. The ground exploded in front of Chuck, by this time he had his rifle cocked and fired square into Wickham's shoulder.

Chapter VIII

Posted on Saturday, 13 March 1999

"Ouch! Quit that! It s just a little, teeny, scratch. Brandon, you dab me with that again, you'll be sorry." Musgrove vowed. Wickham's bullet grazed Chuck's upper-arm and tore a chunk away. "Ha! I'd love to see you try. And if you don't quit your whining, I'm gonna put more on and dab slower. So shut up." Brandon said, pushing down on the cloth for emphasis. He was using a bottle of gin and a cloth to sterilize Chuck's wound. Brandon was the apprentice to a doctor in Boston for a year and learned quite a lot. He had put Wickham out earlier and would attend him when he was done with Musgrove.

"All right, keep this cloth tied tight and see me again tonight to replace it. What ever you do, do not mess with it." with that, Brandon let Chuck leave. "Somebody bring me Wickham, please." Brandon didn't want to have to perform surgery-- on Wickham no less -- having the little training he did. "Here, he's, uh, waking up." said Bill, bringing Wickham over to Brandon. "Has he been bleeding?" Brandon asked Bill.

"No more than he should, having a bullet in him." Bill said looking over at where Chuck was sitting.

"All right, would you put this," Brandon brought out a skinning knife and gave it to Bill, "In some boiling water for ten minutes for me?"

Bill said nothing and left. Brandon heard him yell for some water. Bill was tired, and Brandon knew it. After the knife blade had been boiled, Bill dunked it in cold water and brought it to Brandon. "You've got a doctor's mind, Bill. Any other man would have brought me the knife hot enough to sear his skin. Look, this is going to take a while, go get some sleep." Brandon finished, giving Wickham another knock in the head to put him to sleep.

"Thanks, but I can't sleep. Too much to do around here. Here, I'll build a fire so you can see better. Then, I'll consider sleep." Bill said. It was getting dark fast.

Brandon sat and cleared his mind while Bill built up a pile of wood and lit it with a torch. Soon, there was enough light to see Wickham's wound clearly. Brandon had to put his own opinion of Wickham aside and concentrate on the task at hand. After a half hour of surgery, Bill brought a vat of water to a boil and sterilized the knife again. Brandon could see the bullet clearly now, this was the moment of truth; could he get the bullet out with minimum damage to Wickham's shoulder?

"Here we go, people." Brandon muttered. He had some gloves boiling and has going to use them to take the bullet safely. He left Wickham for a moment and drew the gloves from the steaming pot.

"Bill! A bucket of cold water please!" Brandon yelled. Bill came a moment later with a big bucket of water from the creek. Brandon dunked the gloves the in the water, and put them on, they were a little wet, but they worked. He slowly extracted the round with little resistance. He immediately started sewing the wound up with make-shift thread made of clean horse tail. When he was sewed up, Brandon poured more gin on Wickham's arm, and took a swig himself. It tasted terrible, but it woke him up. Only time will tell now. thought Brandon as he covered Wickham up with a blanket, and built up the fire.

Chapter IX

Posted on Tuesday, 16 March 1999

"Oh, Buttercup, I'm sure Jane will be fine, whatever the outcome. You worry far too much, calm your nerves, and have a cup of coffee--No wait, have some tea." Mr. Bennet said to his wife. He hated calling her 'Buttercup' but anymore, it was the only way she would talk to him. He quickly brought her the tea pot patiently warming on the cast-iron stove. It was a very good stove, Bennet had come by it illegally, by a bribe, but in exchange the blacksmith did not get the ordered three months for bootlegging. He gave her tea, because he knew how she got when she drank coffee. Very talkative indeed. "There you are, my dear." Bennet said pouring his wife a cup of tea.

"You don't know that! She is depriving herself of so much! Thinking she loves that nobody, Charlie Bingley! His family, yes, is rich, but he himself refuses take full advantage of that. Why, he is, after all on a cattle drive at this very moment." his wife said stopping only to sip her tea.

"Take heart, Lizzy is traveling with Caroline Bingley. She has taken advantage of her parents fortune....." he said departing to his reading room. That woman! If I were not her husband, and did not love her the way I do, I would say she belongs with all the other busybodies in town. thought Bennet.

Brandon woke to see flames leaping into the sky closer than the fire ring. He leaped up and pulled the fiery blanket from Wickham's unconscious body. The fire had burned Wickham's boots, but no serious damage had been done. Brandon had dozed off after the operation on Wickham. He appeared to be doing the same as when Brandon had begun, he didn't know if that was good or not. It would be no great loss if he didn't make it, but what would that say about my medical skills.... Brandon mused.

Wickham had been gone a long time, and his gang was getting used to it. "Aw, come on guys! He's gone! For good probably! We ought to take his horse, his money, and his stuff." one of the drunk men in the camp yelled, swigging whiskey from the three-fourths empty bottle. The camp had been celebrating Wickham's disappearance by getting drunk, and fist-fighting.

Earlier in the day, they had left camp and gone shooting. This adventure was short-lived when one of the men was shot in the hand. The pistol was shot clear out of his hand by a stray shot and he sustained a bullet in the base of the middle finger. "It's just a flesh wound!" somebody yelled but they could see the bullet.

"Hey, Brandon, he's waking up!" yelled Darcy as Wickham stirred in his blanket. "Huh? Where am I? OWW!" Wickham yelled after trying to lean on his bandaged arm. "What did you do to me? I'm warning you, my gang's gonna come lookin' for me, and when they do, you're going to get it!" Wickham yelled as he tried to remove the cloth on his arm.

"You take that cloth off, you'll wish you didn't even have arms." warned Brandon as he watched Wickham pause then resume his effort. The effect was Wickham again howling in pain. "Put the dad blame thing back on, now!" Wickham bellowed at Brandon. Brandon smiled and removed the bandage slowly. First, he soaked a new rag in gin, then the wound, then applied the rag, and tied a knot. Wickham all the while was swearing and vowing he'd get even with every member of the cattle drive.

Chapter X

Posted on Wednesday, 17 March 1999

"Tom, I hate to bring this up, but we ought to get movin' soon, the cattle are running out of grazing space. We need to either move on down and find a new camp, or start up again and work around Wickham." Bill said walking up to Tom and giving him the cigarette he asked for.

"I know, Bill, but Brandon says Wickham can't take much riding for a long span of time." Tom answered blowing a puff of smoke into the wind. Bill coughed because he wasn't used to the black cloud of smell it made.

"But Tom, we need to leave soon or the market'll dip"

"Bill, these are my cattle and this is my drive. We leave when I think its best."

"All right, Tom, but it's money out of your pocket and ours." Bill said tromping away.

Bill walked over to the fire pit where Brandon was cooking breakfast. It was a little late in the morning, but now that they were not leaving for a while yet, Brandon decided to let them wait, and himself sleep. "Chuck, we can't keep having rodents and birds for break fast, and supper. There's deer out there! Try for some." Brandon told Musgrove. He let Chuck go hunting despite his arm because Brandon couldn't stand him hanging around camp firing shots.

Chuck opened his mouth to speak, but Brandon shoved the birds back at him and told him to get a deer or they wouldn't eat that day. Chuck stomped away at the rejection of his game. "Good move." said Bill to Brandon.

"Caroline, do you think there's something more going on between Bill and Wickham than they're saying? Bill seems to get tense and avoid the subject every time Wickham's name comes up." said Elizabeth to a drowsy Caroline Bingley.

"Lizzy," she started with contempt in her voice, "I couldn't care less what goes on between these cow-chasers. These mindless macho morons probably have some kind of 'Blood-debt' to settle." Caroline finished.

"Well, if you don't care to enjoy this fine morning, that is your right, but I will take advantage of it. Join me?" Elizabeth asked extending her hand to Caroline. Miss Bingley said nothing but rolled over and went back to sleep. Elizabeth started off for her walk when she heard hoofbeats quickly approaching. When she came to a flat open space she saw Chuck Musgrove galloping towards her dragging a deer on a piece of hide. She didn't think it was because of his kill he was rushing back. "Climb on, Miss Bennet! I have urgent news to deliver to Tom! Hurry, quick!" no sooner was Elizabeth on the horse, than Musgrove was coaxing the horse to an all out run. It was a short distance to the camp, but they arrived sooner than Elizabeth would have expected.

"Somebody take care of that," Chuck yelled pointing to the deer, "I have to talk to Tom." he finished, walking over to where Tom was talking with Brandon. "Chuck, did you get that deer?" asked Brandon with a chuckle. Chuck disregarded the question with a grunt, "Tom, I saw some smoke over the hill, so I went to see what it was. There's a camp set up. They've been there, I guess, about as long as we've been here."

"Slow down, a camp? Hmm. Chuck, set up watches. Three hours each man. If they wanted to take us, they'd probably of done it by now. Oh well, better safe than sorry, thats what my Grammy used to say."

Author's Note; Then I wonder what his Oscar or Emmy or his Tony said....

Chapter XI

Posted on Sunday, 21 March 1999

Pssst! Caroline was shocked out of her thoughts by a sharp noise some distance behind her. "W--What is it? Is someone there?" Caroline said, arming herself with a large tree limb. She cautiously moved closer to where the sound came from, she soon found the source of the noise; Wickham's make-shift prison. "There you are, I was wondering when someone would come by." Wickham said bitterly.

"Mr. Wickham? What do you want?" Caroline said matching his tone.

"I can get you out of here and back to, what was it?, Boston. All you have to do is let me out of this rot hole." Wickham said lightning his tone.

"You, uh, can do that? Get me back to Boston, that is?" Caroline asked suspiciously.

"Only if you get me out."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Come back here after dusk, if you can, get a gun. Here," Wickham said motioning to a large rock nearby, "Give me that and I can break this cell. Get on before they find you here."

"Yes, all right." was all Caroline could manage.

Bill was walking over to Wickham's cell when he heard some rustling in the brush, Miss Bingley stepped out suddenly, "Oh, Mr. Darcy, I'm sorry. I must have gotten lost." with that she left to go back to the camp.

"Wickham! Get up." Bill yelled kicking the cell.

"What'da you want, Billy-boy?" Wickham asked with a sneer.

"I just want to know what you're doing here. I mean, you disappear suddenly then show up here. I want to know why."

Wickham's reply was all Bill expected, a mouth full of spit on his boot.

Chapter XII

Posted on Sunday, 21 March 1999

Bill restrained himself with every fiber of his body from hauling Wickham down to the creek and giving him everything he deserved. Instead, he kicked one of the branches of Wickham's jail, and broke it. Bill repaired it before Wickham could exploit the advantage.

"Do you remember when we used to be the best of friends, Billie?" Wickham said thinking back.

"Yes, but that was a long time ago. I thought you'd forgotten. " said Bill. He could still see the day when Mike Taylor and his group had lured Wickham into their ways. Pretty soon, Wickham had turned to 'all the evil Hell could bring to a young man' in the words of Pastor Collins.

"Well, this has nothing to do with it. Butt out!" Wickham hissed.

Bill tossed the apple he had brought Wickham at him and left.

Same day; Dusk

Caroline excused herself from the conversation around the campfire and obtained a torch. She made her way through the camp looking for the cook's gun he had left out earlier. She found it under his hat with twelve more bullets. She took the gun and bullets and went to find Wickham's cell. She found him sleeping and she woke him by putting the torch close to his face.

"Caroline! Did you get the gun?" he asked when he had woken up fully.

"Yes. But I do not know why you men so love guns."

Wickham disregarded this comment and cut the rope lock with the knife he stole from Brandon earlier in the week. Caroline gladly gave the gun up to Wickham and they shrunk into the night. After they had safely cleared earshot of the camp, Caroline asked, "Where do we go now?"

"Well, we have to get to the next town, I have a 'friend' there named John. He can get us a stage coach. After that, we'll get you to the next train, and you'll be back to Boston." Wickham answered.

After they had walked all night, much to Caroline's displeasure, Wickham and Caroline Bingley reached a small mining town. Wickham led them to a barn with a sign on it; John Thorpe's Buggy Repair. He knocked three times on the door, paused, and knocked two more times. There was a small exchange of words between Wickham and they man behind the door before it finally burst open. "Wickham! You dog!" the man joyously yelled when he shuffled them into the dark inside. "John! You old goat!" Wickham yelled after a half-empty bottle was shoved into his hands.

They finished the introductions and Wickham got down to business. "John, I need a stage, and I need it quick." Wickham said after explaining his situation.

"I'd love to help, Wickham, but the only one I have has ripped up insides and a cracked roof. You can have it if you want...." John said pointing to the large coach behind him.

"We'll take it, John." said Wickham before Caroline could object.

The news of the escape spread fast through the small camp. "Well, Bill, I guess we can get the drive back on." said Tom grimly. Miss Bennet was little changed by the news of Caroline's disappearance.

Chapter XIII

Posted on Monday, 22 March 1999

After a couple of hours of drinking whiskey and gin, Wickham and John were feeling no pain. Caroline had a few shots, but once she stopped holding her nose while drinking, she promptly quit. I will have no more! It burns my throat terribly, she had said in response to John handing her a bottle. When Caroline was sure Wickham and John had drunk themselves to sleep, she decided to explore the streets of town. It was mid-day, but there were still many people in the streets despite the heat. She decided to find the next coffee house, but soon found the closest thing to it would be the Saloon.

"Excuse me, would you happen to have some whiskey in your purse?" asked the half-drunk bum outside the double-doors.

"I do not drink, sir." she answered turning up her nose.

Caroline stepped into the Saloon and was immediately overcome by darkness and smoke. Once her eyes were became accustomed to the lack of light, she found a stool at the end of the counter. Caroline cringed when the bartender walked up and asked her what she would have.
"Coffee? Some Earl Grey tea, possibly?" she asked hopefully.

"The closest thing to tea we got, is some boiled grass-water in the back. Here's your coffee," he said pouring a think liquid Caroline did not think amounted to coffee, "But, as for your friend, Earl Black or whatever, I don't know him. But there's a drunk outside named Hurst. Ask him." he man said walking back down the bar to where a man was asking for whiskey.

Elizabeth sat watching two small rabbits fight over a patch of grass, when an idea came to her; I will write Jane a letter. She brought out a pen and two sheets of paper from her bag and began;

My Dear Jane,
Much has happened since we last spoke, I will begin after Caroline and I left Boston. When we were possibly seven miles outside of Boston when one of the horses that was pulling the carriage broke a shoe. This resulted in a one hour halting our journey to stop, reshoe the horse, and water them all. After this, we continued on with plans little changed. We stopped in a delightful (Caroline did not share my opinion) town to stay the night. After a night's stay, we left and continued in the morning. Around nightfall, our carriage broke a wheel and another problem I did not catch in the driver's hurry to get another. Caroline and I were stranded there with no horses and no drivers. Caroline ate the picnic lunch I had packed away and I started a campfire. Suddenly we heard hoofbeats some distance away and coming closer with every passing minute. Before long, a man dismounted and led his horse to our camp. Bill Darcy was his name, I have seen him in town. Here, when he rode into camp after Bill, I met Caroline's brother, Charlie, a very nice fellow as you know. Caroline, Charlie, Bill, and I rode to their camp which was very close to where the carriage broke down. That night Bill and the rest of the men captured a prisoner who wanted to take Caroline and I hostage. I cringe at the thought of what would happened had Bill and Charlie no found us. The next day, the prisoner tried to escape, but was shot by Chuck Musgrove (the man who was guarding him). I will now jump to the present time, right now, the prisoner and Caroline have disappeared. We know not where they went, nor what they are doing. Send my regards to Ma'ma and Father,
Your loving sister,
Love,
Elizabeth

Chapter XIV

Posted on Friday, 26 March 1999

"Tell me, Bill, who is Wickham really and what does he have to do with you?" Miss Bennet asked suddenly walking over to where Bill was sharpening his knife.

He was caught off guard by her straightforwardness. He searched for the words that would be as vague as possible. He didn't want to talk about Wickham then, or anytime in the near future for that matter. "Ma'am, are you a reporter for one of them fancy papers in Boston or something?" he asked, not knowing what it was leading up to, but willing to follow the road his mind laid out.

"No, Bill. Can I call you Bill?" she said with genuine innocence.

"I guess you can. But, I guess you've seen the way I get around Wickham." Bill said.

"Yes, I confess I have seen the way your face turns a milky pale color." she said with a laugh.

"Oh, and there goes that rosy color!" she added with another laugh at Bill's discomfort.

"Me and Wickham, were friends as children...." Bill said going on to explain everything about Wickham and himself.

Miss Bennet was at a loss for words, something Bill thought wasn't likely to happen. "All that really happened? He just drifted away like that?" she asked when she found her tongue.

Bill nodded.

"Where am I?" asked Wickham waking up holding his head. It felt like his head was about to burst with every throb. He looked around and remembered where he was and how he got there. Wickham turned his head and saw John laying a short distance away still asleep. He shakily stood up and hobbled over to the large wood stove in one of the corners of the room.

"Oh! You're awake! Have some tea, would you?" Caroline said loudly coming from around the corner. Wickham thought he should fall over from pain if not for the wall he was leaning against.

"Please, Caroline, not so loud." Wickham whispered holding his head and shielding his eyes from the door Caroline opened. The sun was shining and Wickham hated it.

"Oh, I am sorry, George, I forgot you and 'the ol' dog' got drunk last night and left me here to fend for myself." she said keeping her voice at a high pitch.

"Oh, this town is not that bad when it comes to things you have to fend off." Wickham practically spat out.

In response to this, Caroline poured the remaining three-quarters of her cup of hot tea in Wickham's lap and left.

Chapter XV

Posted on Wednesday, 31 March 1999

"No! Please! I will get you the money, but these things take time." yelled a frightened William Collins at being ruffled so. The gamblers he had been playing with had won a majority of the hands at the Saloon, and they insisted on having their money right then. Collins had not the money at that time, and was at the moment trying to escape their wrath. Collins had lost his money, over the years, learning how to play poker; most of the time loosing.

"I've heard tell about you, Collins, and I want my money now. Or we can do it the hard way, and then you'll be seein' a lot of doc Harris." the lead gambler said pulling his knife out for emphasis.

"I don't think there's any need for th-" Collin's groveling was cut short by a boot from a dark alley knocking the man with the knife out. Collins was not about to stay and try to thwart off whatever saved him lest it be after him really.

Collins ran past the bar figuring he'd had enough for one night. While running home as fast as his body would allow in his physical state, he saw something that made his blood run cold.

John and Wickham made their 'goodbyes', which turned out to be a shot of a clear, strong liquid, then Caroline and Wickham started out of town. Once they were out of the city, Caroline started, "When will we be to a train?" she asked still mad from that morning.

"I don't know." Wickham replied flatly.

"You said you knew where there would be a station." she shot back.

"No, I said we would find you a station and you could leave to Boston." Wickham said satisfied he'd shut her up for a while. There was a part of him deep in his soul that felt something for the woman in the seat next to him. But he could not go with that, there was too much riding on his tough image, if he started settling down, what would his gang think? What are you thinking? Your gang is glad you're gone! Something inside told him.

"Stop." Caroline said over the road noise.

"What?" Wickham asked turning his head toward her.

"Stop, I'm getting in the box." she said, referring to the place where most people rode while in a stage of this size.

Wickham pulled off the road and stopped. "Miss Caroline? I'm, uh, real sorry about the way I been treatin' ya." Wickham said, it sounded not like his voice, but that of a person who cared. Caroline blushed but said nothing and went into the 'box'.

Chapter XVI

Posted on Wednesday, 31 March 1999

"Miss? Miss are you alive?" Collins asked after discovering something lying an a dark corner. He had recognized the face as one of his churchgoers; Charlotte Lucas.

"Where--where am I? Is he gone?" she asked looking up very much confused.

"Shhh, I'll get you to the doctor." Collins said, helping her onto his horse, with all he had lost, he refused to give up the beast to anyone.

"She's taken quite a fall, Pastor. We're lucky you found her when you did. It'll be chilly tonight." Doctor Harris said after dressing the cut above her left eye and giving her something for the pain. Miss Lucas explained how her horse had been spooked by something in the brush beside the road and reared. She had been thrown off by the horse's sudden decision, and landed hard. "He is gone." Miss Lucas said sadly.

"Miss Lucas, you have your health, that's what counts." Harris told her in a soothing tone.

Collins left promptly after she thanked him and was assured she would be fine in the morning. As he walked home that night, Collins felt proud of himself for the first time in years. Since he had began gambling, Collins found no reason to feel proud of loosing when really there was none.

They galloped into a town that Tom said they would not sell the cattle in. This disappointed many of the men but Bill was pleased. He'd be able to live his dream all the longer. "Bill, Chuck, Brandon, I want you to go to the mercantile and stock up on the things we really need. Here," Tom said tossing Bill a small leather sack, "This should do it. If its under a dollar left, keep it and split it up for yourselves." Tom and a few of the men stayed outside town with cattle, while others went to the saloon for whatever it was they got from alcohol. Bill and Chuck wandered around the store looking at different things, they hoped they could someday have, while Brandon went to the front to get the supplies.

"Thats a Winchester twenty-two rifle. Best one I got." the shopkeeper said walking up behind Bill and Chuck who were admiring the gun on the wall.

"It's very nice." Bill said finally. Chuck grunted a quick agreement.

Chapter XVII

Posted on Monday, 5 April 1999

Caroline sat in the ever bumping carriage thinking of what Wickham had said earlier. It was surprising and she wondered if he genuinely meant it, or meant it to tease her. She thought briefly of a future with him--as she did most all men she met and fancied--and what their relationship might be like. She quickly dismissed this thought and scolded herself for it. She, yet, allowed herself another quick moment of fantasy about Wickham and herself riding the range, her changing him, and him loving her forever. This could not be, she told herself, because she was a refined woman of consequence in society, and he was a criminal. She would be chastised heavily enough in Boston as it was. She did not need them to know about, what they would think, a fling with a cattle rustler.

She felt the horses slow and looked out the cracked glass window to see a man with a gun pointed at Wickham riding along side of them. Caroline unintentionally moved the seat she was in while looking out the window, and moved it. She found a small feather-stuffed mattress stuffed under the seat. She quickly laid down and pulled the bench back to it's original position just as someone with a very gruff voice opened the door and threw Wickham in. Soon, they were moving again and Wickham was squirming around on the floor trying to release himself from the rope restraints on his wrists.

"Caroline? Are you here?" Wickham asked, letting his worry sneak a little into his voice. Suddenly, the bench opposite him began to rise and then stopped. Caroline's head poked out she began to climb out.

"Do all stages come with that feature?" Caroline asked with a smile.

"He he he, get me out of these things!" Wickham replied with a sneer.

Caroline moved to the bench where Wickham was tied up and began with the ropes. Soon, his hands were free and he was untying his feet.

"Who is he?" she asked after Wickham had gotten himself untied and had a little time to himself.

"How should I know?" he mumbled.

"I-I-I'm sorry, I don't know who he is or why he's here." Wickham quickly said. If you want to at least tempt her, you can't let your tongue slip any more! Wickham silently scolded himself.

"Tom, you think I could have a quarter 'o my share of the drive in cattle?" Chuck asked approaching Tom when he and Bill and Brandon got back from town.

"Now, why would you want that?" Tom asked confused.

"Well, the man at the mercantile said he'd sell me this real nice rifle for three nice cows. That's all."

Chapter XVIII

Posted on Thursday, 15 April 1999

"You got yerself a mighty fine gun there." the man behind the counter said to Chuck Musgrove after the deal had been made; three cows for the rifle. Tom had to think about Chuck's odd request, but finally gave him permission to take a fourth of his share in cattle. Of course those three cows would have been worth more than one rifle, maybe two or three at the price the man was selling it for, Chuck really wanted the rifle and couldn't wait.

"Thank you, sir." Chuck answered leaving the store with the box under his arm.

When he arrived back at camp, some of the men who weren't drunk from numerous visits to the saloon, gathered around him to see the new weapon. "We better get a move on now." Tom yelled to the displeasure of those with severe headaches. Those in pain were given a cup of coffee and no more. After the men's saddlebags were loaded on their mounts, and the camp packed up they were off. They were moving steadily out of town, and were almost clear of it, a semi-well-dressed man rode up to Tom.

"You hear a somebody named William D'Arcy?" the man asked looking down at an envelope.

"Well, I got somebody named Darcy, but I ain't never heard a nobody called Dee-Arcy." Tom answered skeptically.

"Uh, that'll work. Point 'im out and I got somethin' I'm supposta give him." he said and rode to the person Tom pointed out.

§§

Bill's thoughts were interrupted by someone he had never seen before riding up beside him. The man was on a horse but Bill could tell he easily stood six feet tall. His face, like Bill's, had not been shaved in a while. "You William D'Arcy?" the man asked in a gruff voice.

"That's not what I go by, but its my name." Bill confirmed.

"Good, here," the man handed Bill a cream-white envelope, "I'm a messenger and was told to get this to you as soon as could be by a man dressed in fancy clothes." With that, the messenger rode off.

"What was that all about, Bill?" Tom asked after riding up.

"I'm not sure, he gave me this." Bill answered gesturing toward the envelope.

"Well, you gonna open it?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, next break we take." Bill said.

A few hours passed, and the party took a break to rest the horses. Bill wandered off a little to read his letter in private. It started;

Mr. D'Arcy,
I, your uncle from England, am writing this letter urgently. Please forgive any mistakes in this letter on my part, as your Aunt is with child and ready to deliver. I feel(Against you parents wishes)you are old enough to know the truth about your family. I will not be vague about it, you were born into a very rich family. Your grandparents gained a large fortune early in life and married. Your father, their child and my brother, wanted to live like all his childhood friends; modestly. To escape his parents wishes he moved to America and soon after met your mother and had a child, you. Your grandparents (and I) did not receive word about his marital status until you were born. Your father had to have some way of living, so before marring your mother, he was a spectacle apprentice. As you know, he opened shop in a small town and has been living with your mother ever since. Your father, to escape inquiry, changed his name a small bit from D'Arcy to simply Darcy. I am writing this June the first of 184_ , by the time you read this, you will have a cousin. Please do not mention this letter to your parents until you are fully prepared to either leave and come to England, or stay and live simply,
Please send reply soon,
Donald D'Arcy II

Bill read the letter over again to make sure he had read right. The realization sunk in; he was rich.

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