RETURNING HOME

Summary: Sammie returns home after spending time back east. Did she bring trouble with her? Warning: Contains references to corporal punishment (spanking) and may contain corporal punishment scenes later in the story.

Author's Note: This story has been developing in my head for a while and I'm finally finding the time to get it down in writing. My life is busy with work and other activities, so I don't know how quickly or how often I will be able to update it. Hopefully, I won't leave you all hanging for long in between chapters. I love getting feedback, so I welcome all comments and suggestions. It's always nice to find reviews in my inbox, as it lets me know what you think of the story.

Legal: This is purely a work of fanfiction. I have no claim to the Magnificent Seven or any of its characters.

*** M7 *** M7 ***

Mary stretched and rolled to her side. Smiling, she propped her head on one hand and ran the other down the bare chest of the man lying on his back next to her. He caught her hand before it could wander lower and drew it to his lips. Kissing it, he held it to his chest. Chris sighed and moved to sit on the side of the bed. He wished he would stay and take Mary up on her invitation, but he needed to leave before the townspeople began their day so no one saw him slipping out of the Clarion's back door.

Mary drew the quilt around her and leaned against Chris's back. "One more week and you won't have to sneak around trying to protect my reputation."

Smiling, he turned and gave the woman he loved a kiss that threatened to curl her toes. "Until then, Mary Travis, I'll be leaving before dawn. We can't have the good people of Four Corners thinking I'm taking advantage of a poor widow woman." He laughed when Mary slapped his shoulder. "Besides, I have to head over to Ridge City to meet the train."

"That's right, Sammie and her friend, Leah," Mary said as she settled back in bed. Her disappointment was tempered by the thought that by that evening Sammie would be home for summer break following her first year at a normal school in St. Louis. Mary was pleased Chris's foster daughter would be home in time for their wedding.

Chris finished buckling his belt and leaned down to brace his hands on either side of Mary's head. He lowered his head to kiss her. "We'll be home by dinner," he said as he stood rose and stepped away from the bed. He moved to grab his hat off the dresser. "Will you and Billy be joining us at the boarding house? Mrs. Patterson is planning a feast."

Mary smiled. "I won't miss it, and I know Billy is looking forward to seeing Sammie again." There was a look in her eyes that instantly made Chris suspicious.

"What do you have planned?"

"Nothing at all."

Chris shook his head as he left the room. Somehow, he didn't quite believe her denial.

*** M7 *** M7 ***

Sammie sat staring out the train window at the passing scenery. In only a few hours she would be home with the people who, in such a short period of time, had come to mean so much to her. She hadn't expected to miss Four Corners as much as she had. She'd grown accustomed to life in Four Corners, but that life was going to be changing. Chris and Mary were getting married. Sammie was happy for them, but she couldn't help that little niggle of doubt that there wouldn't be any room in their lives now for her. She didn't know what she would do if that happened.

"What are you thinking?" The question from her friend, Leah Sullivan, brought Sammie out of her reverie. The two young women were sitting in facing seats in a passenger car of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway. They had been riding various trains for the past week, and were both looking forward to reaching their destination

Before she could respond the door at the end of the car opened and a man entered. Sammie hadn't seen them in the car before, but he had the hard bitten look she had learned to associate with outlaws. She couldn't imagine what purpose he would have in this particular car, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Suddenly concerned with what might be about to happen, Sammy shifted to pull her valise from underneath her seat. Keeping an eye on the man making his way through the car, she pulled a pistol from the bag and hid it at her side under her skirt. When Leah started to comment, she subtly shook her head, warning her friend to be quiet.

"Well, now, what do we have here?" the men asked as he approached where the two young women were sitting in the middle of the car. Coincidentally, they were the only women in the car not accompanied by at least one man. The stranger grinned as he sat down next to Leah. "Two pretty ladies all alone. We can't have that, now, can we?" He grinned as he ran a finger down Leah's arm. Sammy could smell the odor of stale alcohol emanating from him from where she sat in the opposite seat.

"Please don't," Leah responded, trying to shift away from the stranger in the limited space offered by the bench seat. His odor and touch made her queasy. She looked desperately at Sammy for help.

"Ah, ain't that sweet? She even said please." The man chuckled as he leaned in closer to sniff Leah's hair.

Sammie didn't want to take a chance in looking around the car or calling out for help. The stranger was obviously drunk, and she was afraid that drawing attention to the situation would only provoke him into hurting Leah. She sighed. She knew what she was about to do could only lead to trouble, but she couldn't let this stranger continue to accost her friend. "She asked you to stop," Sammie stated loudly, hoping to draw attention to their situation. "I think it's time you go back from where you came." At the same time, she pulled a Smith and Wesson Scofield pistol out from under her skirt. Cocking it, she pointed it in the stranger's direction. Scooting to the opposite end of her seat, she held the gun in her right hand and held her left one out to Leah. When her friend grasped her hand, Sammie pulled her to sit beside her.

"Now, hold on a minute. There ain't no reason to get tetchy. I just wanted to get to know your friend there a bit better," the stranger said. "Besides that's an awful big gun for such a little girly like you." The man shifted, indicating his telegraphing his intention to reach across the space and attempt to take it away from her.

"I wouldn't," Sammie said simply. "It may be a big gun, but I assure you, I know how to use it and am not the least bit squeamish at the idea of shooting you." She paused for a moment before continuing. "My father and his friends are all gunfighters, and they made sure I knew how to defend myself."

"I believe the young lady asked you to leave." A stern voice sounded from behind Sammie's right shoulder. She didn't dare take her eyes off the man in her gun sights in order to turn to see who had spoken. A few seconds later, a tall man, dressed in rugged work clothes stepped into her peripheral vision. "You'd best do as she says."

The stranger was too focused on the gun in Sammie's hand he didn't notice the second man slip around the one who had spoken and move in behind him. The feel of a gun barrel pressed between his shoulder blades quickly caught his attention, however.

"Stand up now."

The man stood and the first man who had spoken grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the aisle. "Don't worry, ladies," he said, grinning. "We'll make sure this mudsill won't be bothering you again." He shoved the stranger toward the door at the end of the car. His friend stepped out between them. Keeping the barrel of his gun in the stranger's back, he propelled the stranger forward.

It was only then that Sammie spotted the train's conductor standing near the doorway. Like the other passengers on the train, the uniformed man had been watching the proceedings in stunned silence. Now that the excitement was over, he rushed forward to Sammie's and Leah's. "Are you unharmed?" he asked nervously, eying the pistol Sammie still held in her hand. "We're fine. Where did that man come from?"

"I don't know," the conductor admitted. "He may have been riding in one of the other cars. However, I can assure you, he will be leaving the train at the next stop." The conductor was unaware that the next stop was also where the two young women would be leaving the train as well.

"No need," said Sammy, as she carefully uncocked the pistol and laid it in her lap. "We are getting off the train there." She wrapped her arm around Leah's shoulders and pulled her friend close. "My father will be meeting the train, and, as you can see, we're well protected."

"Yes, well, about that," the conductor said uncomfortably. "I don't suppose you could put that away." He nodded toward the pistol.

"Let her keep it." One of the men who had escorted the stranger out of the car spoke up as he neared the small group. "Your friend," he emphasized the word to indicate his sarcastic meaning, "decided to leave the train a little early. He won't be bothering you again."

"He's not . . ." Leah wasn't quite sure what she intended to say, fearing one or the other of her two rescuers had shot the stranger.

"He's probably still rolling down the hillside," said the other man as he joined them. "We tossed him off the end of the caboose. Moving past the group, he resumed his seat and picked up the book he'd been reading when all the commotion had started. He pretended to be reading it, but in truth he was watching Sammie. He'd heard what she'd said about her father and was curious as to the man's identity. He'd heard tale of a group of seven gunmen protecting a town about half a day's ride to the west of Ridge City and wondered if one of them was her father. Wouldn't it be an ironic twist of fate if this young woman's father happened to be the very man he was trying to find, he thought as his friend took his seat across from him and blocked his view of Sammie. He chuckled softly as he turned his attention back to his book.

The second man watched his friend resume his seat before turning back to speak to Sammie. "That mudsill was right, that pistol's a bit big for a little thing like you. I'm Zachary Wilson, by the way, and that's Colin Hunter," he said, nodding toward his friend. "You shouldn't be carrying, and you sure as heck shouldn't pull it on someone unless you intend to use it."

"Who says I didn't intend to use it," Sammie replied somewhat icily, intentionally ignoring the man's introductions. She might have to put up with overbearing protectiveness from Chris and his fellow peacekeepers, but she wasn't going to accept it from this stranger. "As I told him," she nodded toward the now empty seat, indicating exactly to whom she was referring, "I know full well how to use this weapon. Believe me, it would not have been the first time I'd shot a gun in self-defense."

Knowing he wasn't going to win this argument, the man shook his head in defeat. "Suit yourself. I just hope you truly do know what you're doing. Otherwise, you're in for a world of hurt" he said before he started down the aisle to resume his seat.

"Yes, well," the conductor stammered a bit at the exchange that had just occurred. "All the same, I insist on escorting you to your father when we reach the station and telling him what just happened. Two young ladies oughtn't to be traveling alone." He turned on his heel and walked away before either Sammie or Leah could reply.

"Where did you get that?" Leah asked, nodding toward the gun that still lay on Sammie's lap. It was the first time she'd actually seen one up close. She'd been sheltered her entire life, especially after she'd gone to live with her uncle in St. Louis after her parents' death from yellow fever when she was a young child. It had taken a lot of persuasion to convince her uncle to allow her to attend the normal school and to reside in the dormitory. If it had been up to him, Leah knew she would have already married and started a family. But, he finally agreed not to stand in the way of her dream of becoming a teacher. It had been even harder to convince him to allow her to accompany Sammie home for the summer. Her friend had made the western town sound so exciting. But now, she was starting to wonder if her uncle hadn't been right in not wanting her to go.

"I bought it right after I got to St. Louis," Sammie said, interrupting Leah's train of thought. "Chris wouldn't let me take one with me, but I didn't feel safe without it. I really didn't need one of my own while I was living in Four Corners, but I didn't have those seven men watching out for me in St. Louis." Sammie had told her friend an abbreviated version of how she'd come to live under the protection of Chris Larabee and his fellow peacekeepers. Sammie grinned mischievously. "Could you imagine what would have happened if Matron Timmons had found it?" she asked, referring to the woman who oversaw the dormitory where Sammie and Leah had shared a room.

Her fear momentarily forgotten at the idea of the imagined reaction of the stern woman to finding a firearm in her home, Leah grinned broadly. "She would have been absolutely apoplectic. I can just see her now, her face would be red and she'd open and shut her mouth like a fish before launching into a lecture about bringing an instrument of 'Satan's evil' into her home." Both young women laughed at the thought.

It would not have been the first time Sammie would have gotten in trouble with the matron. Her love of adventure hadn't waned when she'd gone back east to attend school, and she'd indulged it on a number of occasions. A few of those indulgences had resulted in threats of expulsion and Sammie having a sore backside from the strap Matron Timmons kept in her office. Sammie only hoped Matron Timmons had not kept Chris informed on her actions. If she had, Sammie was sure she would be spending quite a bit of her first week home sitting uncomfortably.

*** M7 *** M7 ***

Chris sat on the bench of the buckboard he'd rented from Tiny, the owner of the livery stable in Four Corners since Sammie and her friend, Leah, were likely to be traveling with trunks and other various pieces of luggage that would be difficult to transport on horseback. He took a final draw from the cheroot he'd been smoking and tossed the butt into the dirt. Pulling out his pocket watch, he checked the time. The train was due in about ten minutes. He replaced the watch and jumped down from the bench, landing lightly on his feet. Moving across the dusty street, Chris mingled with the crowd of people milling about the train station.

He no sooner found a place to wait on the crowded platform than a distant train whistle sounded. No more than ten minutes passed before the train appeared, then slowed to a stop at the platform. Chris waited impatiently for the passengers to begin emerging from the cars.

He smiled with pleasure when Sammie, followed by a slightly plump blonde-haired young woman, stepped out of a car and onto the platform. His smile of pleasure quickly morphed into a scowl of concern when a man in a conductor's uniform stepped out behind them and grasped both women by the back of an arm. Chris quickly pushed his way through the milling crowd. "What's going on?" he demanded when he got close enough.

"Chris . . . ."

"Are you this young lady's father?" the conductor asked, interrupting Sammie's greeting.

"I am, and I asked what's going on here." Chris leveled his infamous glare at the uniformed man.

The conductor released the young women's arms and took a step back. It was obvious he hadn't been expecting a hardened gunfighter to be waiting for the two young women. He swallowed heavily. "Um, yes, Mr. . . ," he paused waiting for someone to provide Chris's name. "Yes, well, there was an incident on the train this morning involving these young ladies. A drunkard entered their car and attempted to make their acquaintance," he continued quickly when no one responded to his unspoken request. "This young woman," he gestured in Sammie's direction, "saw fit to put a firearm on him."

"She was doing an admirable job of defending herself and her friend when my friend and I stepped in to escort their assailant out of the car and off the train," Colin Hunter stated as he stepped up to the small group. He smiled briefly in Sammie's direction before returning his attention back to the black-clad man standing in front of him. "Colin Hunter," he said, holding his hand out.

"Chris Larabee," Chris responded, accepting Colin Hunter's handshake. He glanced behind Hunter when another man came up behind him.

"This is my friend, Zachary Wilson."

Chris nodded in Wilson's direction. "Tell me what happened," he directed Sammie.

"Just as he said, Chris, some man entered the car and sat down beside Leah. It was obvious he was drunk. I could smell him from where I was sitting. Anyway, he started bothering Leah, so I pulled out my gun and demanded he leave us alone."

"That's where we stepped in," Zachary interrupted. "We escorted him out of the car at gun point and tossed him off the back of the caboose."

Chris glanced at Leah. She had yet to say a word, and Chris could tell she was a bit overwhelmed at the events. He smiled gently at her, attempting to put her at ease. When she returned his smile, he turned his attention back to the rest of the group. Something was causing the hair on the back of Chris's neck to stand at attention, and he noticed Colin Hunter was studying him a little too intently for his liking. "We know each other from somewhere?"

"No, I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure," Hunter replied, ignoring the spoken request in Chris's question. "I'm just glad Zach and I were able to help."

"Uh huh," Chris responded, not quite trusting the man and his motives. "I appreciate what you did for them." Turning to Sammie and Leah he asked, "how much baggage do you have?"

"One trunk each," Sammie responded.

"Let's get them loaded so we can head home," Chris said, draping his arm around Sammie and giving her shoulders a quick squeeze in welcome. "I'm sure Leah, here, is anxious to get going."

"Yes, sir, I am," she responded.

Several minutes later, the buckboard pulled away. Chris's gut was telling him trouble was coming, and it somehow involved Colin Hunter. Chris glanced back at the train station's platform and spotted Hunter still studying him intently. He couldn't remember having met the other man before, but Hunter obviously knew who he was and some sort of business with him. Choosing not to borrow trouble, he ignored the other man and turned to Sammie. "Okay, Samantha, you care to tell me where you got a gun, 'cause I know you didn't take one to St. Louis with you."

Sammie winced slightly at Chris's use of her given name. With Chris, that was never a good sign. "I bought it shortly after I arrived in St. Louis." She grinned cheekily. "I thought I might need it. Guess I was right." She shifted in her seat to study Chris's stern features. "Are we going to have one of your discussions about it?"

Chris remained silent, concentrating on guiding the wagon through the heavy traffic surrounding the train station. The longer he stayed quiet, the more Sammie began to squirm. Finally, he broke the silence. "Guess we'll let it go this time." He couldn't help but miss the relief that passed through Sammie. He wasn't going to let her know he was glad she'd had it with her on the train today.

TO BE CONTINUED

Author's note: For those of you who aren't familiar with the term, a normal school was a school for the purpose of training teachers in established teaching standards or "norms." It was what would later be referred to as a "teacher's college."