Epilogue – Two Years Later…

Vin Tanner sat on his haunches on a bluff overlooking the town, his dog Sassy was curled up behind him. Below the bluff, Peso, a donkey, and another horse were tried up feeding on sweet grass. Beside him on a large rock sat two men. One man he thought he'd never see again – and had hoped he wouldn't – Mr. Jock Steele. He had to say one thing about the man, he certainly was persistent. The other man, was a bit older than the dime-store novelist. His name was Walter Winslow. He was a bit on the heavy side, balding, and dressed in a suit highly unsuitable for where Vin had brought him, but for whatever reason, he did like the man.

"Is this it?" Winslow asked, taking off his bowler had he wiped at the sweat accumulating on his forehead with a stark white handkerchief before placing the bowler back on his head.

"You did want to see the town. Far as I know this is the best place to see it." Vin replied.

Jock piped up. "Now, Mr. Tanner, maybe we'd be better served by a…."

Vin rose slowly to his feet and stared down at the small stout man. "I told you, you were allowed to come, but that if I heard a peep from you that was it."

Jock gulped.

Sassy growled.

"You saw how we got up here, now you can just get back on your donkey and high tail it back to town. Mr. Winslow don't need you around to do what he came here for."

"Mr. Tanner does make a good point, Mr. Steele. I will meet you back in town, though I do appreciate your assistance."

"Very well. If you need me, I'll be in the saloon. Maybe I can find someone to take me back to Purgatorio. Did I ever tell you about Purgatorio, Mr. Winslow?"

"Too many times," he groaned. "Please don't let us keep you from your journey."

With a resigned sigh, Jock, crawled back up on his donkey and headed back to Four Corners.

"I never thought he'd leave me alone," Winslow grumbled. "That man made the train ride from New York City seem twice as long as it was, but McAllister Publishing insisted that I wouldn't find you without his assistance. Apparently Steele wanted to come back to do a follow-up book on the Magnificent Seven."

Vin smiled. "Yeah, he can be like a gnat on a cow's ass."

"Such a poet, Mr. Tanner," Winslow teased.

"So, you came all this way just to see me?" Vin asked, cutting to the chase.

"And to learn a bit more about you and where you live, how you live," he explained and pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil. " Since your first volume of poetry was published, we've received a lot of inquiries seeking more information on the cowboy poet. Some of which we were able to learn from Jock Steele, but he's been known to exaggerate."

Vin chuckled.

"Before we print the second volume, we thought that we should learn a more about you and your friends, Mr. Tanner. I'll also be sketching some of the scenes around town, and of you and your friends."

"First of all just call me Vin. Only Ezra calls me Mr. Tanner."

"Very well, Vin." Winslow looked out over the town and put his pencil to paper and started to sketch. "For instance what can you tell me about Four Corners?"

"Well…" Vin paused a moment to gather his thoughts before proceeding. "Four Corners wasn't supposed to be anything more than a place for me to hide out for a bit…to blend into the surroundings. At the time I had a bounty on my head. I thought the town was small enough to hide away in for a time, earn some money before moving on. It turned out where I found my brothers, my family, and my future." The poet shrugged. "I guess it was my salvation. Ah, hell, I'm starting to sound like Josiah."

Winslow stopped sketching, and laughed but quickly became serious. "I know Jock mentioned something about a bounty on your head in his book, but that's about all he said. Can you tell me anything more?"

"Yeah, well, to keep it short, I was set up by a man called Eli Joe for killing a man. I was innocent, but couldn't prove it. The law put a $500 bounty on my head – dead or alive. Until Chris was able to prove me innocent, it was my friends and this town that kept me safe."

"It does sound like something Mr. Steele would like to write about," Winslow mused.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Vin vowed. Reaching down he grabbed a stick laying on the ground. He caught Sassy's eye and held up one finger. With his free hand took the time to throw the stick for the dog. Sassy's eyes darted from Vin to the target, quivering in anticipation. Vin paused for a moment before lowering his finger to point at the stick, immediately Sassy took off like a shot.

"Of course, I can respect your privacy. Can you at least tell me what's been happening with you, your friends, and this town in the past couple years? If you are willing, I'd like to include an introduction to your next book, describing your life in Four Corners. Of course, you would have the approval on anything published. The people in the cities and out east love reading about life out here, and they are most interested in you."

"Aw hell, Mr. Winslow, I'm just a man."

Sassy returned to Vin's side and dropped the stick.

"I'd really like to know whatever it is you can tell me, Vin. I understand you and six of your friends agreed to act as Four Corners' peacekeepers approximately five years ago?"

Vin considered the request. "Yeah, it was about that long ago and the town has grown some since then." Vin pointed out a four-story build on the east side of town. "See that there building, the white one with the green around the edges. That was Mrs. Potter's general store, but Ezra went in with her and added a section of special men's clothes. According to Ezra…" Vin cleared his throat and imitated Ezra's Southern accent "…the finest in men's clothing this side of the Mississippi, shipped directly from New Orleans, Philadelphia, and Paris.

"I take it you don't shop there?"

Vin snorted. "Not hardly."

Winslow laughed at the poet's reaction.

"What about your other friends, Vin?"

Vin took the time to throw the stick for Sassay again before replying. "Well Josiah is still making repairs to his church – don't think that'll ever story - but now the town comes to listen to him preach. Then there's Nathan, he actually has a place to heal folks on the ground floor. Kinda hard expecting sick people to walk up stairs. Then there's J.D."

"The sheriff?"

Vin nodded. "That place other there," he pointed to a small home to his left, just outside of town. A barn stood behind the home and a corral extended from the far side of the barn to a small grove of trees. "That there is J.D.'s place. He and Casey married about a year and a half ago. J.D. pretty busy being the town's sheriff and a small farm. And he and Casey had their first three months ago – spitting image of her ma."

"What of Mr. Larabee?"

"Ol' Chris gets along pretty well. He's increased the size of his shack…almost the size of a shack and a half now. He's bought a few brood mares and a fine stallion. Some people come all the way from Denver to buy stock from him."

"What about you? What has changed for you in the last two years?" Winslow asked.

"Instead of tellin' you how about I show you?"

Winslow nodded. "Lead the way."

The two men rode their horses away from the bluff and north of town. Sassy ran along beside the horse until Vin pulled his horse to a stop and patted the saddle horn. The dog barked twice and on a run sprang up in front of her master. Peso turned his head toward the addition to the saddle and gave a whinny in greeting.

"Good trick," Winslow noted.

A panting Sassy turned to look at the stranger with what appeared to be a satisfied smile on her face.

"No trick, she came up with that one on her own," Vin bragged.

The dog yipped and lifted her head up to give Vin a slurp across the cheek. "'Nuff of that, girl," Vin said with little force and a bit of a grin.

The rode on a bit longer until Vin finally turned towards a small ranch situated near a copse of trees. A small barn connected to the ranch with a corral connected to it.

"Welcome to my place," Vin said then kicked his horse into a trot until he reached the corral. He urged Sassy to jump down and he let Peso into the corral.

Winslow followed suit and soon his horse joined Peso.

"I had no idea you had a place of your own," he remarked.

"Still a surprise to me," Vin admitted as he walked toward his home, Winslow following. "So much happened after I came to Four Corners."

"You found six brothers." Winslow recounted.

"Got my name back." Vin added.

"Became a poet." Winslow continued.

Vin opened the door. A cinnamon haired women launched herself at him and he hugged her back fiercely placing a kiss on her lips. A blur of motion hurtled toward the poet and clung to his legs.

"Up, Pa!" a little fair-haired apple-cheeked boy wearing patched pants and a plaid shirt cried out.

With a laugh, Vin bent down and picked him up and turned to his guest. "And I found love and family of brothers and one of my own. Don't get much better than that."

And Mr. Walter Winslow had to agree.

The End.

To my readers: Please accept my thank you for all who have followed, are following, and will follow this story, and most especially thank you to those who take the time to leave a review. Also a big thank you to my beta reader, Terri, and Sr. who always offers her support. In addition, a special thanks to my husband and daughter to seem to think my stories are the equivalent to a New York Times best seller...gotta love them!

PJ in NH