J.D. couldn’t remember the last time he was this excited. Gavin Brown was arriving on the stage today. Gavin Brown! His childhood hero.

"Hell, Buck! I know you’ll like him. I’m sure you will," the kid cried for at least the twentieth time in the past few minutes. J.D. was dressed in his best clothes, his bowler hat atop his head. "Yeah, I know you’ll like each other."

Chris Larabee glanced at Vin Tanner. The two men were leaning against opposite posts outside the saloon, watching J.D. bound up and down the street waiting for the stage.

"The kid appears a mite nervous," Chris commented quietly.

"Yep."

"Sounds like he’s a bit worried about how this fella, Gavin Brown, is gonna take to Buck."

"Can’t say I blame him. Buck’s a bit of a surprise to most people," Vin drawled lazily.

"Kid, will you stand still," Buck growled. "You gonna wear a rut in the road."

"Sorry, Buck. It’s just that I can’t believe he’s coming to see me."

Gavin Brown. According to J.D., he could ride as well as Buffalo Bill. Hell, according to J.D. the man could do everything short of fly. Brown had been the foreman on the hobby farm that J.D. had grown up on and had taken the time to teach the boy to ride. For that reason he appeared to have achieved a god like status in J.D.’s eyes.

Buck shook his head, watching as his young friend began to pace again. Roughly he grabbed the youth as he passed. "J.D. if you don’t stop, I’m gonna be forced to shoot ya."

"Sorry Buck." Nervously, J.D. licked his lips. "I’m sure you’re gonna like him, Buck."

"If he’s a friend of yours, kid, then he’s a friend of mine." J.D.’s face lit up with relief.

"I owe him a lot, Buck. He bought me my first dime store novel. Got me interested in comin’ West. Hell, he taught me to ride and to shoot."

"What about flyin’?" Vin called from the verandah. Buck chuckled and J.D. frowned.

"Now you fellas won’t go saying anything like that will ya? I mean, I don’t want him to think...."

"Relax son. We won’t embarrass you," Chris stated, his voice hushed and authoritative.

"At least, not intentionally," Buck claimed grinning.

"Now, Buck. Buck you ain’t to say nothing about my hat. Ya hear me?!"

"We’ll all be on our best behavior, you have our word," Vin drawled. "Don’t worry, J.D. Even if we don’t like’im, we’ll pretend we do," the tracker added grinning. His young friend returned a smile of pure unadulterated gratitude.

"Thanks, Vin. Thanks, Chris. Thanks, Buck. Thanks...."

"Land sakes, boy. Next thing you know you’ll be thankin’ your horse. Will you jist stand still and relax before Nathan has to give you some laudanum!"

Right on time, the stage ambled into town. All members of the Seven appeared out of various buildings. Each was curious to get a look at this man that had J.D. all worked up. The youth had practically been hyperventilating since he had received word that this, Brown, was going to visit. Hence, all of his team mates had made the effort to be present for the kid’s sake. Nathan stood at the top of the stairs to his clinic, smiling broadly. Josiah was relaxing in the doorway of the church, hammer and nails still in hand. Ezra had positioned himself on the porch of the saloon next to Chris and Vin. Buck waited in the street next to.....near.....in the general vicinity of J.D., who simply couldn’t control his nervous tension and so continued to bounce about like a jack-in-a-box.

The stage pulled up in a cloud of thick dust.

"Mr. Brown!" J.D. shrieked and then, hearing the sound of his own voice, he set about calming himself down. "Gavin." The door opened and a tall man stepped out. He was probably forty. His thick brown mousy hair and bushy eyebrows giving him an air of authority. One thing was certain, Buck noted with quiet amusement, it was clear to see where J.D. got his dress sense. Gavin Brown regarded the street like a king might regard a turd on the bottom of his shoe. Then he dropped his eyes to the young man standing directly in front of him, as if noticing him for the first time.

"John-Daniel." He offered his hand, but as the boy went to take it, he flicked it up and knocked the kid on the chin. "You still fall for that boy," the man laughed. "Then again you never were too bright." J.D. smiled sheepishly and then stepped back.

"Gavin, I want you to meet my best friend, Buck Wilmington." The tall man glanced at Buck and nodded briefly. Not an acknowledgment - more of a dismissal.

"So this is where you ended up. Don’t look much," Brown mumbled.

"Oh, it has its days, Gavin," J.D. proclaimed proudly.

"Still, I don’t know what I was expecting. You always were one for exaggerating, boy. Reckon, to you, this is the real west, hey?" And Brown laughed. J.D. grimaced and glanced at Buck, who was now frowning.

Two other men climbed from the stage.

"Well, hello there, horse shit."

J.D. turned, his eyes flashing with surprise. Buck’s hand had balled into a fist the size of a bowling ball, but a sharp look from Chris pacified him. Horse shit. I’ll give you horse shit, Buck thought darkly.

"Jamie? Liam?"

"That’s right, horse shit. Thought we’d come with uncle Gavin and check you out." The two young men were around J.D.’s age, maybe a little older. Both were taller and broader than the Seven’s youngest member and both wore identical sarcastic smiles that caused J.D.’s six team mates’ brows to crease with vexation.

"What a shit hole!" Gavin Brown chuckled at his nephew’s assessment of Four Corners.

"What did you expect?" Liam lamented. "We are talking about J.D. J.D. - I want to be a cowboy - Dunne."

"So, boy, have you arranged a room for us?" Gavin boomed.

"Yeah, course I have. Come on, this way."

Brown stood and glared down at J.D. with an air of such superiority, that Nathan Jackson felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He knew that look. He’d been on the end of that look for much of his early years. God, he hated it. Seething quietly, Nathan watched as Brown inclined his head towards the bags. J.D. smiled and then leapt up to collect them ....all of them...before leading the newcomers towards the boarding house.

Buck watched the group disappear and then made his way over to his three frowning companions collected outside of the saloon.

"Don’t reckon I like him," Buck murmured, his big moustache twitching with irritation.

"Yes, he and his nephews did seem somewhat intent on belittling our young sheriff," Ezra agreed. "But Mr. Dunne still appeared happy to see them so I suppose, for his sake, we had better ignore our misgivings and make an effort to welcome these three strangers. All of us," Ezra stated meaningfully.

Chris glanced at Ezra and then at Vin. The latter was still staring at the boarding house, his face serious, his eyes narrowed. Assessing the situation. "Problem, Vin?"

"Maybe."

"Vin?" Buck pressed. If ever there was trouble coming, Vin always seemed to be the first to be aware of it. His instincts were unnatural...almost eerie. But Buck and the rest of the team had come to trust them without question. Vin snorted softly and then dragged his eyes away from the boarding house and let them settle on Buck.

"Keep that gun of yours well holstered, pard," the young man stated quietly.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Buck demanded, anger causing the volume of his voice to rise.

"I reckon I agree with you," Vin murmured.

"Huh?"

"I didn’t take to them either." With that, Vin turned and entered the saloon. The quietly spoken tracker was always painfully honest and had a knack for summing up a situation in just one sentence. Buck glanced at Chris, the gunslinger shrugging.

"There is one thing that I have come to believe of Mr. Tanner, and that is that he has reliable intuition. I suggest you follow his advice and keep your trigger finger in check Mr. Wilmington," Ezra proclaimed, before following Vin into the saloon. Buck grunted.

Chris Larabee’s brow creased with concern. It wasn’t Buck he was worried about. Buck was predictable, at least. Explosive, but predictable. Chris’ disquiet was a result of a very unique understanding of another of his men. And that man was Vin Tanner. When Vin didn’t like someone, he usually didn’t try to hide it. One thing was for sure, Brown and his nephews would certainly know how the tracker felt towards them. Vin was a man who knew how to conceal his emotions, but then, he was not a man who was afraid to show them either.

"I don’t think Vin liked Brown’s attitude to J.D.," Chris mused.

"I don’t think any of us did," Josiah agreed stepping up on the porch. "The way he just expected Brother J.D. to carry the bags turned Nathan an interesting shade of black, if you get my meanin’." Chris nodded. "Buck, you better make sure you keep that temper of yours in check and your gun holstered." An exasperated look exploded on the scoundrel’s face, his mustache now doing the watoosi above his lip.

"Don’t look so surprised, Buck. We all know you real well. Reckon by the end of the day, you’ll want to shoot Brown and his two boys. Reckon I might, as well," Chris grunted.

The Seven. Dubbed by one writer as the "Magnificent Seven." Chris was the fastest on the draw and the tough silent leader. Everyone in the territory and beyond knew Chris Larabee and his reputation with a gun. Buck was experienced in most situations. No one ever bested the local scoundrel in a fight and so no one ever tried. Josiah was the big one. Strong as an ox and twice as determined. When something needed to be moved it was Josiah’s massive shoulders that were sent for. Nathan was second to none with a knife in his hand. Hell, knife skills and the black man were synonymous, whether you were talking surgery or a well-aimed knife in a critical situation. His aim was always sure and true. Ezra was just plain sneaky and could hit a gnat on the wall across the room with his derringer. The gambler could get a man to believe that the sky was purple no matter how intelligent the poor sap was. Vin was a damn good tracker and a sharpshooter without peer. But few people outside of the Seven knew how deadly the young man was. Most assessed him as an unassuming, easy-going buffalo hunter who simply kept some dangerous company in Larabee. But that didn’t change the fact that Vin could track anything, anywhere, across anything. Not to mention his accuracy with his mare’s leg. And J.D........What the hell am I good at? I don’t have a reputation. Or at least, not one that instils respect. Don’t even have a non reputation like Vin. At least most sensible people avoid Vin. But me? I’m just that stupid kid who thinks he’s a cowboy.

Such thoughts had been plaguing J.D. all night as he lay staring up at the ceiling of his rented room. Nothing had turned out as he had planned. He had hoped Gavin would be impressed with Four Corners. That he would see J.D. had made something of himself. That Buck and Gavin would be good friends. But everything was just one big mess. And as for Jamie and Liam turning up out of the blue, well that had only made things worse. Ever since his childhood playmates had arrived in town that afternoon, they had taken delight in teasing and putting him down in front of his six fellow protectors. As a kid it had always annoyed him, but now.....now it hurt.

J.D. knew that his six colleagues were either ignoring Jamie, Liam and Gavin or trying to be friendly for his sake, just as they had promised. Hell, Buck was grinning like a big old fool the entire time, but J.D. could see the smile repeatedly slip as his friend reined in his temper. Ezra continually used big words that J.D. was sure were insults, but Gavin, Jamie and Liam didn’t understand the words, so that was okay. Chris watched from afar. A bob of the head in greetings and that was it. J.D. really hadn’t expected any more. Josiah had hidden himself away in the church but had been agreeable at dinner. Nathan hadn’t opened his mouth. Just nodded and kept an almost pleasant look on his face. J.D. could sense there was something amiss there, but he had no idea of what it was. Vin, well, Vin had been interesting. He had offered his hand and welcomed each one of the visiting trio. He’d half grinned when Liam commented on the length of his hair ....something about ‘don’t they have barbers in this hick town.’ Vin had also taken all of the other subtle, cutting and almost insulting comments with quiet, amiable shrugs and nods. J.D. had seen the nerve in his friend’s cheek quiver several times, but Vin was true to his word. He’d promised to be on his best behavior and not embarrass J.D. and he was going out of his way to do so, despite the fact that he knew these men were enjoying themselves at his expense. The conversation between the group had lasted several minutes, which was a long time for Vin, and J.D. was grateful for his effort. Of course, after Vin had gone, Jamie and Liam had begun to criticize the tracker, zeroing in on someone they believed was another easy target for their harassment. Even Gavin had commented that Vin didn’t look like he had a lot between the ears. J.D. had leapt in then to defend his team mate, but the other three had told him not to be so sensitive. It wasn’t his fault that the scruffy tracker was a half-wit.

"Beside which, I doubt he’s intelligent enough to even know we was insulting him the whole time."

"Oh, he knew," J.D. muttered. I owe Vin big time. "Vin may not have a lot of book learnin’ but he’s real smart. You wouldn’t want anyone else on the trail with you."

"Yeah, sure, J.D." For the first time, J.D. wished that Vin and the others hadn’t gone out of their way to be on their best behavior as they had promised.

The voices of Jamie and Liam returned to J.D.’s ears as he replayed one of their cutting, but subtle insults. Everything was presented as a half joke. Like if he reacted, then he was **over**-reacting. Why were they always so cruel to him? And their criticism of Four Corners and his companions didn’t sit well either. Hell, this **was** the west. The **real** west. And Buck and Vin and Josiah, and Nathan and Chris and even Ezra were cowboys. The real thing! - rough, dusty, ride’m, shoot’em cowboys. Couldn’t Gavin see that?

I have to show him. But how? What is it that I can do that would impress him? Then J.D. hit upon a solution. Horsemanship! Gavin had taught him to ride and Gavin was the best there was. Why hadn’t he thought of it earlier? J.D. knew he was good on a horse. Hell, he was more than good! And he’d been practising. He might even be as good as Gavin these days. Time to prove that he wasn’t just some useless kid. A riding competition. I’ll show Gavin that he should be proud of me. And I’ll show Liam and Jamie that I can out-ride anyone. Or at the very least, I’m second only to Gavin. I‘ll show them that I belong in the West and that I am a real cowboy now! The problem solved, J.D. settled down to sleep.

It was two a.m. The town was asleep, except for the five men still in the saloon attempting to drown their anger. Chris had retired several hours earlier, not wishing to watch his men sink into an intoxicated servitude.

"If they insult J.D. one more time, I’m gonna give them a one way ticket to meet God," Josiah muttered.

"Reckon you’ll have to get in line," Buck growled, slamming back another glass. "You had me pegged from the beginning," Buck continued, glancing at Vin. Of the five, Vin was the only one not drinking. He didn’t trust himself. A couple of whiskeys and he just might do something he’d regret. He’d only stayed to keep an eye on his friends and to ensure that they didn’t hatch and carry out any plans that they would regret in the morning.

"They treat J.D. like a......" Nathan didn’t finish the comment. He was too damn angry and too damn drunk. Vin reached out a hand and squeezed the man’s shoulder firmly. He understood. He’d seen it too.

"My friendss, we must keep up the facccade for Mr. Dunne’ss ssake," Ezra suggested, his voice well and truly slurred as his ninth brandy took effect. He had decided to get drunk for the same reason that the easy-going tracker had decided to remain sober. The way Ezra saw it, if he was blind, paralytic drunk he just might miss when he shot the three odious bastards. "I ssay we take a pledge now. We continue to be freindly and try to ignore thossse threeee disagreeeeeeable gentlemen." Ezra laid his hand on the table. Each of the others, except Vin, placed their paws on top, one by one. In their inebriated state, all felt that a pledge was a solution to their problem. "And ssso it is done. We’ve all agreeeed not to kill thosse offensssive, naussseating, object...objectionable, noxious heathens while they are in town. When he is ready, Mr. Dunne will ssstand up for himssself."

"Don’t understand why he just stands there and takes it," Buck snarled.

"I don’t suppose Brother J.D. does either."

"J.D. is trying so hard to impress this Brown fella that he can’t see straight," Vin muttered. "If Brown is his friend, J.D. shouldn’t feel the need to impress him. Hell, that ain’t friendship. The way J.D. was talking last week, I thought that this Gavin fella was his best friend." It was the first thing Vin had said in several hours. All glanced at him. They had been there when J.D.’s three ‘friends’ had continually insulted the tracker. They had all held their breath as each insult was delivered, just waiting for Vin to drill holes in each of them. Or at the very least, for Chris Larabee to do so. But Chris had ignored the situation and Vin had held his cool. For J.D.’s sake, they knew.

"I mussssst say Mr. Tanner that had they ssssspoken to me assss they did yoooou thisss afternoon, I would have ventilated their skullsss." Vin glanced at Ezra and shrugged.

"It don’t matter what they say to me....or about me. ‘Cuz their opinion don’t count. Couldn’t give a rat’s ass if they think I’m stupid. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold my temper if they belittle J.D. again."

Ezra gazed at the young man beside him in awe. Vin Tanner was a proud man who never allowed pride to direct his actions. "Mr. Tannnner yooou are an uneducated rasscal who hasss the dressss senssse of a wort hog, but there are timessss when yoooou make me asssshamed of mysssself. And with that I bid yooou alllll good night."

"You better let me help you back to your room, Ez," Vin grinned.

"I am peerfect..tly capable of nego....negooootiating......" He was searching for his hat, which Vin picked up from the table and plonked on his head. "Thank yoou kind sssirr.............What wassss I ssaying?"

"You just asked me if I’d walk you to your room."

"OOhhh good. Beeecause I can’t feeel ....my feet. Do yooou, per chance, think that I might have drinkin...drank...drunken too much thisss fine evening?" Vin slid the gambler’s arm over his shoulder.

"Hell no, Ezra. It’s just that your feet got tired before the rest of ya."

"Reeeallly!"

"The rest of ya be alright to get to bed?"

"Yeah, Vin. Ezra’s the only one that done got himself plastered. Didn’t realize that he thought that much of the Kid."

"And what issss that ssuposssed to mean, Mr Willl...Willllming....how do youuu sssayy your name?"

"Come on, Ezra. Night all," Vin bid dipping his hat before half carrying, half dragging Ezra out of the saloon.

The next morning was warm and fine. Buck entered the street to find J.D. hammering some five foot poles into the ground.

"What the hell are you doin’, boy?"

"Jamie and Liam bet me that I couldn’t ride between these here poles and leap over them drums."

Buck eyed the obstacle course with critical eyes. J.D. had set up six poles in a straight line, at the end of which was three barrels only a couple of feet apart. "Be impossible for anyone to get a horse to dance in and out of those poles and then jump three times one after the other. Ain’t enough room for a horse to land and jump again."

"I can do it."

"You’ll break your fool neck," Buck growled.

"Hell, no! He’s a reeeaal cowboy now," Liam laughed, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

Buck turned, his drunken pledge to be friendly forgotten. He glared at the speaker and watched as the boy swallowed, his face paling. Hell, that felt better. The two young visitors to Four Corners backed away and found a nice safe spot removed from Buck to view the spectacle. By this time, the rest of the Seven had collected to watch J.D. ‘break his fool neck.’

Testosterone flowed beautifully and challenges were laid down. Ezra announced odds and began taking bets. The Seven were quick to note the delighted look on their young companion’s face and realized how important this was to him. Gavin Brown appeared and J.D. tipped his hat to him.

"J.D. needs to win today," Josiah commented, watching Brown take a seat out the front of Potter’s.

"That he does," Ezra agreed, massaging his throbbing temples. "As his two young friends have decided not to compete against him, I am afraid it is going to be up to us to provide competitors."

Buck glanced at Ezra. "Meaning?"

"Meaning that it will be a hollow victory if Mr Dunne successfully negotiates the obstacle course and no one else attempts and subsequently fails. Achievement only has value when others fall short of the intended goal."

A crowd gathered to watch as J.D. manoeuvred his small chestnut in and out of the poles and up and over each of the barrels. He did it with ease, much to the amazement of Jamie and Liam and to the enthusiastic cheers of his fellow protectors. Apparently not to be outdone, Buck announced that it didn’t look so hard and that if J.D. could do it, anyone could. The big man climbed onto his huge gray and tried to convince it to weave between the poles. The horse quickly became confused and finally came to a stubborn halt. Buck’s loud cursing echoed throughout the street, accompanied by Josiah’s, Ezra’s and J.D.’s laughter. Brown and his nephews were now long forgotten as J.D. called out playful insults to his best friend, who sat on his horse bellowing and cussing so badly that many of the ladies left the street.

Chris was sitting on a chair leaning back against the wall of the saloon watching the scene with apparent indifference. But there was a smile touching his eyes as he watched Buck make a jackass of himself for the sake of the group’s youngest member. Beside Chris, Vin too was leaning back against the wall, but his chin was on his chest, his hat over his eyes. He appeared for all the world as if he were sleeping.

"What the hell are you laughing at, preacher man?! Let’s see you do it."

"Oh no, Brother Buck. Reckon my horse is almost as stubborn as yours." With some gentle persuasion, Josiah was the next to attempt the obstacle course and add value to J.D.’s achievement. Ezra Standish had tears running down his face as Josiah’s mount refused to walk between the poles, but rather trotted down one side, jumped the first barrel, but came to a dead stop in front of the second. The momentum, however, sent Josiah sailing over his horse’s head to land on the other side of the second barrel.

"The horse is supposed to jump the barrel, Mr. Sanchez, not you," Ezra wheezed gasping for breath. The gambler’s laughter continued when it was his turn. Chaucer, like Buck’s horse, finally decided that he had had enough of all of the foolishness and came to a dead stop, refusing to move forwards or backwards.

J.D., Nathan and Buck called out happy abuse and laughed uproariously when Ezra actually half fell out of the saddle as he was dismounting, his legs unable to hold his cackling body.

"Perhaps I should show you all how it is done," a deep voice stated. Everyone turned to eye Gavin Brown. Ceremoniously the pompous man climbed to his feet and had begun to remove his jacket.

"You show them Uncle Gavin."

Buck glanced at Ezra, once again feeling his anger begin to rise. That’d be right, he thought darkly. He and the others had been going out of their way to bolster J.D.’s faltering confidence. Ever since Brown and his boys had arrived in town the day before, J.D.’s self esteem had taken a worrying nose dive. But this morning, horsing around in the middle of the street, Buck had watched the J.D. he knew return. The scoundrel’s face darkened. If Brown said one thing...one word that made J.D.’s eyes shadow with pain again, Buck knew he would kill the bastard.

Ezra Standish too was entertaining sober thoughts. You’re going drag Mr. Dunne down because of pride, aren’t you, Brown? What sort of a friend are you?! Can’t you see that the boy is only doing this to impress you! I swear that if you say or do anything further to upset our sheriff, promise or not, I will decorate your heinous face with a bullet hole.

Brown snatched the reins of J.D.’s horse and mounted. It became clear, from the way that he sat in the saddle, that he was a professional horseman.

"Uncle Gavin used to ride horses in the circus. Can make them do anything."

Everyone watched as Brown manoeuvred the horse through the obstacle course with pronounced perfection. J.D. and Brown’s nephews cheered. Buck slapped the man on the leg as he passed.

"Reckon you was almost as good as J.D.," the scoundrel stated.

The young sheriff grinned at his friend. "I ain’t quite as good as Gavin."

"Oh, I don’t know, Brother J.D. Don’t reckon there was too much difference between you."

"Actually, I thought you was a little better," Nathan claimed.

Brown’s face shadowed with fervor.

Quickly Ezra jumped in to appease the potentially explosive situation. "The point of today’s exercise was not to evaluate the skill with which the rider completed the course. It was simply a test to see who could, in fact, negotiate the course. I am afraid it was on those terms that I accepted all bets."

"That’s right, Ezra," J.D. agreed happily. "I guess when it comes to horses, I got all of you lot beat!"

At this, Vin’s hat tipped up and he surveyed the scene for the first time. The other men’s well intentioned attempts to bolster J.D. confidence had worked. Only problem was, it had worked too well. All the success had gone to the boy’s head.

"Kid’s gettin’ cocky," Vin muttered.

"Cocky can git a man killed out here," Chris agreed, his face down. Vin nodded. The two exchanged a simple sideways glance and then both went back to slouching with their hats pulled down low.