"You are aware, Mr. Larabee, that the role of decoy is far beneath my normal status, and at the same time a position for which I am woefully under recompensed." Ezra Standish glared at the lawman. The effectiveness of his rant was somewhat mitigated by the sparkle in his eyes.

Larabee refused to rise to the bait. "Ezra, I'm pretty sure no one has ever paid you what you thought you were worth for anything, so this is just another day for you. Now, are you going to get into this stage coach, or must I get Buck to give you a hand up?"

"Mr. Wilmington's assistance, while it would be appreciated, will not be required. Despite the ungodly hour –"

"Told you he'd complain" Buck interrupted, grinning at JD. "You owe me five dollars."

"Mr. Dunne. You wagered I would remain silent on the intolerability of an unnecessarily early departure. I thought I had trained you better than that."

JD just shrugged. "He gave me good odds."

Ezra shook his head in mock disappointment. "The folly of youth. As I was saying, I am perfectly capable of taking my place on the stage. And, as I shall be travelling alone, I shall take advantage of the opportunity to catch up on lost sleep."

"Sorry Pard, not alone." Vin Tanner walked toward them, escorting Nettie Wells to the wagon.

"Mrs. Wells? I was not aware you had any intentions of travelling this morning. And the lovely Miss Wells as well. How wonderful." he added, as Nettie's niece Casey came along behind.

"Oh, I'm not going with you. Just here to see you all off."

"I, on the other hand will be more than happy to keep you company on the journey."

"Vin?" Chris Larabee looked at his fellow lawman.

"Relax Chris, we're only taking her as far as the Wilson ranch. Betty Wilson sent word to her that she needed some help with the grandchildren for a bit, since she was laid up with her aches and pains pretty bad, so I suggested Nettie could ride out with us. Make the stage ride look better if anyone's watching us leave town."

"Nettie, he did tell you what this was all about?"

"Course he did. And I agreed with him that only a fool would try to rob the stage as close to town as we'll be. Not when your route has so many other ideal opportunities laid out. Only open area 'tween here and Wilson's would be near the canyons, and that's to narrow a spot to plan any mischief." She turned to Ezra. "So Mr. Gambler - you ready to take a ride with an old lady?"

"I most certainly am, but until one arrives I shall enjoy the pleasure of your company instead."

Nettie grinned at him. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" She accepted the offer of his hand to step into the coach. Once certain she was safely aboard he turned away, grabbing Vin none to gently by the arm.

"Seriously Mr. Tanner. Do you think this is wise? We are purportedly carrying a shipment of gold coins, and the likelihood of our being approached by those with nefarious motivation is abnormally high. Having company along does not seem wise, however brief her travelling plans might be."

It was rare that Vin was able to get under Ezra's skin like this, and he enjoyed getting the better of the man. "You just don't want to share the coach with anyone. Especially someone who likes to put you in your place."

"And your place right now in on the stage. Let's get moving Ezra." Chris brought his horse alongside the coach. "Vin, you're gonna be riding off to the side of us, keeping even as best you can from a distance. Hopefully you and that spy glass of yours will spot any trouble before it happens." Vin gave a nod, grinned once more at Ezra and headed off. "Josiah and I will ride along with the wagon. Anybody watching will be expecting extra guards with what's supposed to be on board. JD and Nathan are stayin' in town, trying to make things look reasonably normal. Buck, you'll watch from a distance too. Make sure you're ready to move fast if we need you."

Joe Coleman was sitting in his customary seat driving the coach. He was too much of a fixture on the ride to be willing to give up his position just because of the threat of thieves. "Damn it Larabee," he'd responded when asked to let someone else drive, "I figure every day could be the last ride. This time I got all of you for protection, probably be the dullest day of my life."

With a quiet sigh, Ezra climbed into the stage. He quickly inventoried his weapons, noting out of the corner of his eye Nettie's reaction to the collection. "You do believe in being well prepared, don't you."

"I prefer to leave nothing to chance."

"Strange talk for a gambler."

"Yes – I suppose it is."

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They were a little more than an hour from town when Chris moved closer to the Josiah. "Could be just shadows, but I thought I saw movement ahead."

"At the bluff? Does that seem likely"

"No, which is exactly why it makes a good spot. Move in at a moment we aren't expecting it."

"Wonder if Vin saw anything."

"If there's something to see, I'm betting he did."

"Gentlemen, is there information you care to share?"

"Might have known Ezra'd show interest if you mentioned betting Chris." Josiah smiled at the scowl he got from the man in the coach. "Might be a bit of activity ahead. I'm gonna circle over toward the rocks."

"Watch yourself Mr. Sanchez. That is a fairly open position to place yourself in."

"Not worried Ezra. Didn't see any crows today." Ezra shook his head at the older man's steadfast adherence to his superstitious belief.

Josiah headed toward the flatland, while Chris spurred his horse to get a piece ahead of the coach. He had barely started moving when the first shot rang out. Coleman cracked the reins intending to get the vehicle past the open area and closer to the shelter of some overhanging rocks when the second shot caught him in the chest. He rolled from his seat and dropped to the ground, dead before he'd landed. The coach bolted past Chris, who had already pulled his weapon and was returning fire.

"Mrs. Wells, I urge you to stay as close to the floor as is possible." Ezra had pulled her off her seat at the sound of the first shot. He was looking out the window, looking for someone to shoot at when he saw Coleman fall.

"Shit. My apologies madam."

"Never mind that – what are we gonna do."

Ezra quickly thought through his options. He guessed the coach was already moving too quickly for him to consider jumping, and it was certainly out of the question for Nettie. "You madam, are going to stay on the floor. I," he took in a deep breath, "I am going to stop the coach."

"And just how – what are you doing? Don't be foolish."

Ezra ignored her as he opened the door and angled himself to grab the luggage railing above with his left hand. Cursing both to and at himself for what he was about to try, he let go of the door frame and grabbed for the railing with his right.

He fought the impulse to scream as his body swung out from the carriage and he tightened his grip. Inching his way along he neared the front when he heard the distinctive sound of a bullet slamming into wood. He looked in controlled terror at the new hole only a few inches from his head. The fear provided incentive he really didn't need to put on an added burst of energy. Finding the foot hold in the drivers step, he moved to pull himself up. A bump and the swerve of the panicking horses once again sent his body swaying as he scrambled to reclaim his footing, silently praying his shoulder, and his strength held out just a little longer. Continued poor aim from the robbers wouldn't hurt either, he thought.

Shouting at himself for encouragement, he pulled himself higher as he struggled to fight the momentum of the ride. He had to fight back the instinct to collapse when he realized he had made it to the driver's seat. He looked frantically for the reins and groaned when he saw them dragging on the ground, dropped when the driver met his unfortunate end. He tried using the foot brake, but that was intended to keep the vehicle stable far more than to stop a runway team of crazed horses.

So far, the beasts had more or less followed a straight path, and he thought it unlikely they would deliberately head over one of the upcoming cliffs. But none of that would matter, since there was no chance the coach would remain stable at the first significant turn. And the road ahead showed one coming.

Once again cursing at himself, Ezra braced his hands against the seat and leaned forward.

Chris had watched in stunned disbelief as Ezra found his way to the driver's seat. He'd never have believed it if he hadn't seen it himself, and even now he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't hallucinating. A bullet ricocheting of the rocks behind him brought his attention back to the moment as he turned his horse toward cover. How Ezra planned to stop the coach was a mystery to him, but he intended to make sure the lunatic at least had a chance. He opened fire toward the shooters, hoping to drive them back under cover. Answering shots from another side quickly showed him that wasn't going to be as easy as he'd hoped, as he felt the fire of a shot rip into his arm. He pulled back on the reins, and slid to the ground, scurrying to better cover to keep shooting from.

Josiah too was determined to offer as much protection as was possible from his vantage point, but could to little more than watch in fear as the stagecoach hurtled ahead. Vin and Buck were moving in, but they were still too far off to provide Ezra with any help. Dimly he registered their shots, adding to the confusion.

Suddenly he found himself praying without noticing he had started. "Please Lord, don't let him do what he's about to do. Please stop him." He watched Ezra jump. A moment later the wagon began to slow, while the horses charged ahead. He'd done it. He'd released the four horses. A moment later the reality hit him. In the middle of the team of charging horses, far too close to the ground to be safe, was a blur of red. "Oh Lord, please help him."

"When this is all over you and I are going to have a long talk about the limits of my responsibility Mr. Larabee."

Ezra knew his statement wasn't going to be heard by anyone, but strangely he felt better saying it. It also gave him a brief moment of something else to think about as he flew through the air, having launched himself from the comparative comfort of the stage coach driver seat. He had grabbed a trunk, resting it on the foot brake in what he was sure was the vain hope the coach would be slowed when the team was released. He landed with far more force than he'd expected on the left rear horse, panicking the animal even further as it tried to buck him off. Searching for anything to hold on to, he found only mane to wrap his fingers around, and held on for dear life.

As much as he would have loved to take the time to catch his breath, his mind screamed at him that that was not option. Instead he turned looking for the pin that connected the team to their job. His eye followed the post until he saw it. Leaning down wasn't going to work, it was just a little too far away. Not allowing himself time for second thoughts, "or even first ones" he muttered to himself, he slid down the side, anxiously hoping his feet made contact with something other than the ground rushing below. He had no idea which Saint was watching over him that day, but clearly one was as he felt the beam beneath him. He toppled forward, reaching for the pin and yanking it with far more strength that he imagined he possessed. The sudden jerking of the separation caused him to lurch, and he frantically grabbed for anything to hold him stable, fearing the pounding of the hooves on his body if he fell to early. His hands tangled in the reins, which bound him to the team but gave him no stability as he slipped from his perch.

He felt the first kick hit his upper arm as he desperately tried to shield his head. The effort flipped him on his side, where he felt another kick, again hitting the arm. The flash of pain told him he would lucky if it was only broken, not shattered. Not that he expected to survive this ordeal to find out.

He had been unable to see the path being taken, so was caught completely off guard when he felt the team turn. The force spun him and he could see himself about to be fully underfoot, and there was simply no way on heaven or earth that would end well. In a final frantic effort he pulled at the reins that were wrapped around his wrist, jerking free at the last possible second. His relief was short lived as he felt himself tumbling out of control from the sheer force of momentum. There was nothing to grab, nothing to hold on to as he registered the fact he could not possibly stop in time. He hoped that screaming he heard wasn't really coming from him as he hurtled over the edge.

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tbc