The Little Gambler
Summary: Ten year old Ezra Standish arrives in the town of Four Corners with a letter from his mother for his father, Chris Larabee.
Author's Note: Some of you might recognize this story from another sight, but I've also made some minor changes to it. I've had this written for awhile now, but I've been tweeking it here and there and finally decided to post it.
Warning: Spanking of Minor(s).
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun.
Chapter 1: Arrival
The stage coach pulled into the small town of Four Corners, Texas in a cloud of dust.
This was not an unusual thing, as the stage usually arrived in town at least once a month, and it always had passengers.
This time it's passengers consisted of two well dressed men in "city-slicker" suits, two women, and a little boy.
The boy was about ten with large green eyes.
He was dressed so unlike the children of the town that had someone placed him next to one he would have stuck out like a broken thumb.
Dressed in a blue suit jacket, pants, vest, and spit shined shoes.
He was meticulously clean, and carried an old yet still usable carpet bag in his hand.
His blonde hair was combed perfectly, without a strand out of place, and as he gazed at his surroundings there was a definite look of distain on his face.
This is where Mother has sent me?He thought to himself as the stage driver handed him his small suit case.
"Thank you, sir," he told the gruff man politely, placing his most charming smile on his face. "I thoroughly enjoyed the ride."
Yes, he thought with just the touch of a sneer, I certainly just LOVED the bumping of the carriage, the bickering of the other passengers, and the loud belching of the drivers…
While he would have liked to express these sentiments out loud, his mother had raised him to be a gentleman and gentlemen were always polite...even if that meant lying.
Ezra P. Standish had no difficulty in telling a lie when it was absolutely necessary.
The stage driver just grunted and turned away. Ezra sighed.
He still could not believe his mother had done this to him...although he really shouldn't be surprised.
His mother, Maude, had been leaving him with perfect strangers all his life as she attempted to con various [wealthy] gentlemen out of their fortunes.
This time, however, she had been caught and had to flee the country.
So while she is in Paris or who knows where, he thought bitterly. I am forced to come here to this uncivilized town in the middle of nowhere!
Ezra sighed again. Turning, he started down the town's main (and only) street.
Passing shops, he found what he was looking for in the form of a star shaped sign bearing the name "Sheriff" on it.
All his life his mother had told him to remain clear of lawmen, and yet she had sent him to live with one Chris Larabee—the sheriff of this backwater town!
The man is probably some fat jail keeper, Ezra thought to himself.Who does nothing but sits around all day long…
Taking a deep breath, Ezra placed a self-confident expression on his face, raised himself to all of his four foot and four inch height, and stepped inside what constituted the local law office for Four Corners.
Inside, he found a tall man with a mustache. He sat behind the desk with his feet propped up, and his brown cowboy hat over his eyes.
At least he's not fat, he thought to himself with a sigh. Clearing his throat, he didn't get any reaction from the man.
He stepped closer and cleared it a little louder. The man lifted his hat, stared at him with one eye, and then grinned.
"Well now," he said, sitting up. "Hello there. Something I can do for yaw?"
"Um, yes," Ezra said, nervously. "I am looking for Sheriff Chris Larabee. Would you be him by any chance, Sir?"
The man smiled, but shook his head.
"Sorry, son," the man said, good-naturally. "I'm Buck, one of ole Chris' deputies. Chris is over at the saloon havin' lunch right now."
"Oh," Ezra said, simply. "Could you perhaps point me to this establishment, then?"
Buck smiled broadly. He'd never heard a kid talk quite like this one.
"I'll do yaw one better," he said, standing up. "I'll take yaw over there. Yaw got a name to go with them fine manners of yours?"
"Of course," Ezra said, following him out of the jail.
Buck waited, and when he didn't say anything further, asked, "Well?"
Ezra blinked at him. "Well what, Sir?" he asked, puzzled.
"What's yer name, boy?" Buck persisted, a tad bit frustrated.
"Oh," Ezra said, realizing he had not formally introduced himself. "I am Ezra Percival Standish, Deputy."
Buck whistled. "That's quite a name, young'un," he commented as they stopped in front of the local saloon.
"I suppose so, Sir," Ezra said, "but it is the only name my mother bestowed upon me at birth so suppose I must live with it.
"Yeah, I reckon so," Buck said, smirking. "C'mon, ole Chris is over yonder…"
He pointed to a back table where a group of two men and a young boy sat eating.
"Howdy, fellers," Buck greeted, gaining the three men's attention. "Got a young'un here who'd like to talk to yaw, Chris…"
Chris Larabee was a tall man, blonde haired, and dressed all in black. He glanced at Ezra with an intense expression.
Ezra gulped, somewhat intimidated.
So, the boy couldn't help but think. This is my father…