The Past is Never Dead
Webmaster Note: This fic was formerly archived on another website and was moved to blackraptor in October 2008
The title comes from William Faulkener:
The past is never dead.
It's not even past.
- 1 -'Mr Tanner.' Ezra waited, deck in hand, poised to deal his friend another card. 'Mr Tanner! Are you in this game or not?'
Vin snapped into life, dragging his gaze back from the window to his friends. 'Sorry, boys.' He riffled through the cards in his hand, then folded.
When Chris's straight beat his two pair, Buck took the deck and shuffled it for half a minute. He glanced up at Chris, grinned, and turned his attention to Vin. 'She is a picture but since when does that catch your eye?'
'Huh?' Vin asked, still distracted.
'Oh, come on. You been horsing after that brunette for days. When you gonna try talking to her?' He paused for effect before adding, 'I been leaving the field clear for you.'
When he caught the man's drift, Vin shook his head and frowned. His expression showed no embarrassment at the transparency of his interest, no annoyance at Buck for drawing attention to it. In reality, he was puzzled.
'Ain't that,' he said. 'I swear I seen her someplace. Been trying to remember.'
Buck shrugged. 'Coulda run into her. What's the big deal? Good opening, if you ask me.'
Vin struggled to explain the curious and disconcerting feeling he had been experiencing. 'No, not like I seen her. Like I know her.'
The tall man's exasperation was clear. 'Hell, Vin. Talk to her.' He dealt the cards, bewildered why any man should wait days before approaching such a charming newcomer. He had indeed been exerting some restraint, partly because his current squeeze, Cathy, was not only adorable but also jealous and partly, as he had said, out of deference to his friend's clear - and rare - interest.
They played on for a half-hour before Vin asked out of the blue, 'You know her name?'
The grin returned to Buck's face. 'Of course I know her name. Mrs May Pryor. Widow.' He waited then prompted, 'Well?'
Vin shook his head slowly. 'Never heard of her.'
'Mrs May Pryor. Widow.' Ezra emphasized the words. 'Perhaps you knew the lady before she was Mrs Pryor. Miss May something else?'
'Nope. Never known no Mays, far as I recall.'
Chris examined his friend closely, reflecting that he was not generally one to get hung up on a woman. The only time he had shown an interest, he seemed to have no difficulty in pursuing and declaring it - even though a more circumspect approach would have suited the delicate circumstances. His current mood seemed more complex than a man's response to a desirable woman.
'Long time ago?' the fair man finally prompted.
This time, Vin slowly nodded. 'Seems that way. Real long time ago.'
Now it was Chris who grinned at Buck before concurring with his earlier judgement. 'Talk to her, Vin. It'll probably all fall into place.'
'Surely the great Vin Tanner, bounty hunter, is not afraid to introduce himself to a lady?' Ezra inquired with a smile.
Vin scowled, first at him and then at Buck. 'If I'm scared of anything, it's that she'll think it's a come-on like I hear every other day round this place. I'm sure she's heard 'em all too.'
- 2 -
Vin was sitting at a table outside the saloon with Chris late the next morning when May Pryor walked along the opposite sidewalk on her way from the hotel to the dry goods store. He resumed his pondering.
Chris watched in silence for a few minutes before speaking. 'It's really bothering you, ain't it?'
Vin sighed as he tried to order his thoughts. He had no problem discussing them with Chris, knowing the fair man would not treat them with the same scorn as Buck and Ezra had.
'Not bothering, exactly. More like an itch I can't scratch.' He considered it some more. 'It ain't that I'm afraid to talk to her but I'd rather know who she was afore I did. Could be I'd rather she didn't know who I was.'
The sentiment took Chris by surprise. The only skeleton he knew of in Vin's background was the Texas murder warrant and the woman did not seem a likely candidate for bounty hunter or law enforcer. He raised an eyebrow and his voice held a trace of amusement when he spoke.
'Never saw you as one for leaving ladies in the lurch. Something you ain't been telling us?'
Vin gave a sidelong smile, the first since his current mood set in. 'Nope. I leave that to the likes of Buck.' The smile faded. There was a long pause. Finally Vin leaned back in his chair, put his feet on the table and asked, 'I ever tell you about my Ma?'
Chris shook his head.
'Don't remember her as clear as I might. She went when I was five an' I can only picture her here and there… cooking… washing… dying.' He cleared his throat. 'Anyways, after she'd gone, I got sent to relations but there was some trouble and later I got put in an orphanage.' Another long pause. 'Never been able to recall exactly what kind of trouble it was but I been thinking 'bout it a lot these past couple of days. Seems… seems like she reminds me of all that but I'll be darned if I can see why.' He looked thoughtfully at his friend. 'I ain't sure whether it'd be good for me to know who she is - or for her to know who I am.'
Chris nodded slowly. He knew all too well that family could bring sorrow and guilt, as well as love and security. It was the first time that Vin had ever mentioned his childhood and the few short sentences opened a window onto a past that had been far from secure. While he was thinking on the revelation, Ezra and Buck emerged from the hotel together. It was Ezra's custom to rise during the hour before noon but late mornings were a new habit for Buck, dating only to the start of his affair with the delectable Cathy, who worked at the restaurant in the evenings. They sauntered over.
'Well?' Buck challenged Vin. 'You done anything about Mrs Pryor yet?'
Vin gave a look that said very eloquently where Buck should go and what he should do when he got there. He was still glaring when the subject of their conversation came out of the store, crossed the street and headed in their direction. Watching her, Vin noticed too late what Buck was about.
'Good morning, ma'am,' the tall man said courteously. 'My name's Buck Wilmington. This here's a friend of mine…,' he waved behind him, 'Vin Tanner…'
Anything else Buck might have been planning to say dried on his lips as he saw the woman's reaction. She had stopped when he greeted her and looked at him with mild amusement, no doubt accustomed to men making their introductions. When he alluded to Vin as a friend, she had glanced at the other man without recognition. But, when he spoke Vin's name, her jaw dropped. She looked at Vin again and frowned. A second or two passed as she examined him. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper.
'Vinnie?'
Then she fainted.
Buck was too slow to catch her and she simply crumpled onto the sidewalk.
'Nice one, Buck,' Chris said as he helped his friend lift the woman onto a chair.
Ezra disappeared into the saloon and returned moments later with a glass of water, which he set down in front of the unconscious woman.
All the while, Vin gazed on, frozen. Vinnie. Only one person had ever called him by that name and she was long dead. A single tear coursed down his cheek as he remembered her laughing blue eyes and masses of mahogany ringlets. The woman before him now had turned keen blue eyes on him, harder than he recalled but still twinkling with suppressed amusement. Her hair was twisted tightly into a knot but the curly bangs on her forehead were indeed a rich shade of mahogany.
Whether it was in response to Buck's gentle slaps on her hand or in her own time, the prone woman began to come round. She sipped from the glass Ezra held to her lips and looked about, confused for a moment and then flustered as memory returned. Her eyes flicked back to Vin but her body remained as immobile as his.
Three men watched, bemused, waiting to see whether man or woman would recover first. Finally Vin spoke, his voice soft, disbelieving, hopeful.
'Etta?'
It was so long since she had heard the name that it took a moment for her to respond to it. She nodded slowly. 'Vinnie? Is it really you?'
She reached a hand across the table toward him. He hardly dared touch it, fearful that the reunion was a dream and that a wrong move on his part might bring it to an end. Tentatively, he rested his fingertips on hers.
'They told me you was dead, Etta.'
She nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks.
'I thought…' Vin put a hand to his head as fragments of memory jostled for space. 'I thought…'
She nodded again, then shook her head, then tried to speak through her sobs. Failing, she stood, took a few wobbly steps and collapsed onto him. Holding her close, he buried his face in her hair and let his own silent tears flow.
Their audience looked on, too astonished by the tearful reunion to do anything else. Around Main Street, many eyes surreptitiously took in the scene, drawn by the spectacle of perhaps the most reserved of the seven law enforcers in such an unprecedented display of emotion.
It was several minutes before Etta shifted to the chair beside Vin and dabbed her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and fought to regain his customary control. She looked up at the other men in embarrassment.
'I'm sorry… such a shock…'
Buck was quick to dismiss her apology. 'My fault entirely, ma'am. Vin said he thought he knew you. I shoulda listened.'
She gave Vin a tearful smile. 'Did you? I would never have recognized you.'
Seeing Vin was still too disoriented to speak, Chris led the others in pulling up chairs and trying to make good the chaos Buck had unleashed. He smiled at the woman and asked softly, 'How long is it since you saw each other?'
'Nearly twenty years. I was nine, Vin was ten.' She sensitively substituted the man's name for the boy's name she remembered so fondly.
So, Vin had been right. The woman came from his childhood, from a past he could barely recall. 'Vin said his Ma died when he was five.'
'Yes, that's when he came to live with us.'
Chris thought carefully before taking his inquisition a step further. He glanced at Vin but found no guidance in his friend's bemused expression. 'Vin doesn't remember it so good. He thought there was some trouble.'
Etta looked at Vin and then back at Chris. She blushed and there was disbelief in her voice when she asked, 'He doesn't know what happened?'
Chris shook his head slowly. 'Leastwise, he didn't ten minutes ago.'
Etta's color deepened. 'Oh my… I… Oh dear.' She looked anxiously at Vin, her delight at finding him alive quickly eclipsed by her concern at what the reunion might mean for him. That fear unleashed a host of others. She brought many problems with her, most not twenty years in the past. She struggled with her emotions for perhaps half a minute, lost the battle and fled to the hotel.
Ezra disappeared into the saloon again, this time returning with a bottle of whisky and four glasses. He set a glass in front of Vin and filled it to the brim. Vin nodded his appreciation and downed it in one. Two more shots followed before he sat back and began to collect himself.
'Okay?' Chris asked cautiously.
Vin gave a slight nod but said, 'Been better.' He managed an ironic smile when he added, 'Thanks, Buck.'
'Sorry, Vin. Never guessed…'
Vin waved his words away, biting his lip fiercely to stifle the tide of emotion rising within him. 'I'd forgotten about Etta. It all came back when she called me Vinnie.'
Chris had suspected something of that kind. Since the murder of his wife and son, he'd experienced some curious tricks of memory himself. He'd also watched other people grieve and seen how some needed to remember while others needed to forget. Whatever the trouble had been, Vin had clearly needed to forget.
After a pause, Chris asked, 'You remember what happened?'
Vin thought for a while. 'I remember going to live with Etta and her Ma and Pa when I was five. Remember a long time after that, all the stuff we used to do…' He frowned, trying to see into an abyss between those happy memories and the painful jolt that followed. 'Then they said Etta was dead and I had to go to the orphanage. I… I thought I must've killed her. So I decided to pretend there never had been no Etta.' He looked abashed at his own words. 'After a while, I must've believed it.'
Ezra picked up the interrogation in the same measured tone Chris had used. 'Who said Etta was dead?'
Vin struggled to answer the question. Finally he ventured, 'Ain't so sure. Seems like it was a stranger, at the orphanage maybe.' His bewilderment gave way to frustration. 'Sorry fellas. Need some space.'
He strode off to the livery stable, saddled his horse in a daze and rode out of town. When his spirit was troubled, the wilderness gave Vin the solace that other men found in the houses of God, the arms of women or the bosoms of their family. He urged the bay into a fast pace and pushed him on until he was blowing hard.
Eventually, Vin relented and walked the gelding to get him cooled down and breathing evenly. Tethering him to an old cottonwood, Vin sprawled out under the tree. Eyes closed, he drifted back through the years, opening his mind to the memories, hoping he had not denied them for so long that they were beyond his reach.
- 3 -
Back in town, Chris, Buck and Ezra had been joined by JD, Nathan and Josiah. The other three friends had heard about Vin's encounter and come to find out more.
'Shouldn't someone go after him?' JD asked.
Chris had already considered that idea and decided against it. 'He said he needed some space. Reckon I would too.' After a moment's further thought he said, 'If she remembers what happened, maybe we should talk to her. Then again, what business is it of ours?'
Nathan kicked the table leg pensively. 'Don't know, Chris. I ain't a one for knowing folks' business but, if Vin's buried this so deep he don't even remember it, he may need some help.'
Chris pondered that for a good while before looking at Josiah. 'Think you can talk to her?'
The big man nodded slowly. 'I can try.'
- 4 -
Vinnie ran through the long grass, laughing as the feathery fronds brushed his cheeks. He could see where Etta had passed from the broken stems and bare stalks stripped of their crops of seeds. He followed the tunnel of destruction down to the creek, emerging onto its sandy shore into a barrage of acorns raining down from the half-dead oak tree that leaned across the water at a gravity-defying angle.
'You're dead,' the girl shouted.
He threw himself obligingly to the ground, whereupon she leapt down and sat on him triumphantly. He rolled onto his back and smiled up at her.
'You win. Now what?'
She punched him playfully. 'You always let me win. Come on. Let's paddle.'
They took off their shoes and socks, then walked along the creekbed, hand-in-hand. When they emerged half an hour later, they had both picked up several leeches. Vinnie pulled three from his own legs before tackling Etta's five. She made a face and gripped his shoulder firmly while he stretched them longer and longer until they relinquished their grip. She was the perfect playmate, game for anything but just dependent enough to make him feel important - something that mattered to him, elder, boy and orphan as he was.
- 5 -
Josiah asked for Mrs Pryor's room number at the hotel reception desk, climbed the stairs to the first floor and knocked on her door.
The woman who opened the door was pale, swollen red eyes betraying the tears she had shed.
'Can I help you?'
'Good afternoon, Mrs Pryor. My name is Josiah Sanchez. I'm a friend of Vin's and… well… Chris suggested maybe I should come and see you. Vin needed some time to himself but we're concerned for him.'
She studied his face but, seeing nothing but honesty there, stood back to admit him to her room.
Two upholstered chairs stood by the window, a small table between them. At Etta's invitation, Josiah settled himself in one of the chairs. She took the other, twisting her hands nervously in her lap.
'Chris said Vin came to live with you and your parents when he was five years old. He remembers things you did together for a long time after that but then they told him you were dead and sent him to an orphanage. He didn't even remember that much until today. He had somehow forgotten all about you.'
The woman nodded sadly. 'They told me he was dead.'
'But you know what happened? Why he was sent away?'
This time her nod was reluctant. 'It's not something I talk about, Mr Sanchez. Not ever.'
'Not even to Vin?'
'Perhaps especially not to Vin. I thought he was dead until an hour ago. I need time too.'
Josiah nodded sympathetically. He weighed his words carefully. 'Vin's a private man and none of us'll pry into his affairs. But he's the best friend a man could have and we'll do anything to help him. Keep that in mind.'
'I will. He's lucky to have such friends.' She showed the big man out.
- 6 -
Vinnie led the roan pony across the wind-rippled prairie, running as fast as his legs could carry him.
'Faster, faster!' Etta shrieked delightedly.
He hopped up lightly behind her and kicked the pony forward. They bounced around bareback until the pony stumbled and they fell laughing to the ground. They had taken many a tumble but the tangled grass broke their falls and their good-natured steed always returned to them as soon as he realized he had lost his riders.
'When we're grown up, we'll have the fastest horses in the territory,' Etta told Vinnie.
He looked at the western horizon longingly. 'And we'll keep riding forever. We'll never stop.'
'Forever,' she agreed.
- 7 -
Etta lay on her hotel bed, trawling her own memories. She would have purged their bitterness from her mind years before, had she been able to do so. She wondered how Vin had managed it. Of course the span of his role, from discovery to terrible resolution, could be measured in minutes. Perhaps such a sudden trauma could be expunged whereas insidious terror over months was harder to eradicate.
Thinking how Vin's denial had extended to her very existence, she wondered if she would be willing to sacrifice her early memories of life with Vinnie to be free of her nightmares. Not having tasted such happiness since, she knew the answer was no: she would never part with Vinnie.
- 8 -
'Don't do that!' Etta slapped Vinnie's hand.
The blow was sharp but it was her tone that brought tears to his eyes. He drew away, letting her hair fall forward over her face. He had tied it back a score of times before, when their rough play pulled the braids loose, and did not understand why she now rebuked him.
'I'm sorry, Vinnie. Just don't touch me.'
He frowned down at her. 'Why, Etta? You never minded before.'
'It's different now.'
'What is?'
'Everything.'
- 9 -
Try as he might, that was the last conversation with Etta that Vin could recall. He had a vague idea that she became unhappier and more distant after it but he found no other clear memories until the news of her death.
With an adult's perspective, he listened to her words once more, examining his own actions again. He couldn't be sure when it happened but he supposed he was around ten years old as she had said. He had no memory of ever touching her in an inappropriate way but then it was clear that he had no memory of a lot of things.
Reflecting further, he found evidence in two later recollections to support his conviction that he had done nothing wrong. He was thirteen when he discovered the rush of pleasure available to him by touching his own body. The man smiled as he recalled the boy's delight at this seemingly limitless fount of ecstasy. Of course, it was not limitless and soon became a more routine satisfaction. Two years after that, he kissed his first girl, an experience that triggered a temporary resurgence of interest in the first discovery. With time, his enthusiasm for both subsided to healthier proportions.
His point in dwelling on such thoughts now was that both the masturbation and the kiss had been discoveries. He was as sure as he could be that they were new experiences, quite different from anything he had shared with Etta. Still, if he had done nothing wrong, why had she suddenly pushed him away? Why was he sent away?
He mounted the bay and moved on at a sedate pace, wondering whether to return to town. If there were no answers to be found in his memory, there was only one other way to find them and that was from Etta.
- 10 -
When Josiah reported back to his friends in the saloon, their disappointment was clear. They sipped beers contemplatively, until they heard calls announcing the stage and then its arrival in the street outside. It was only a minute or so before Judge Travis came into the saloon and joined them at their table. He accepted the beer that Inez brought over unbidden, took a couple of sips, then looked round them.
'I've just come from Landon. I was due to try a woman for murder but she's escaped. Local boys are looking but I heard a rumor she was headed this way and figured maybe I'd come and see you fellas.'
'A lady murderer?' JD echoed. 'That's a bit out of the ordinary, ain't it?'
'This whole case is out of the ordinary, son. The victim was a man named Pryor-' The judge stopped speaking as six pairs of eyes turned on him as one. 'What?'
'This woman - what's she like?' Chris asked.
'Letitia Hanson. About fifty, has a history of hysteria and instability. She made scenes all over town, mostly allegations about the victim's wife, then killed him. Not only have we lost our defendant but the wife is now also missing.'
Chris ran a hand through his hair. 'Reckon the wife's in the hotel here.' He gave the judge a long look before expanding. 'Seems she's a long-lost relation of Vin's. We been having scenes of our own here.'
'I see,' Travis said slowly. 'And where is he?'
'Needed some space.'
The judge shifted awkwardly in his chair. 'Well, obviously, I haven't heard the case yet but… if you are in a position to influence Vin… I'd advise caution. I have seen depositions from witnesses to some of the exchanges in Landon and they were extraordinary to say the least. Mrs Hanson claims she killed Pryor because she holds Mrs Pryor responsible for the death of her own husband some twenty years ago. She was recently released from an institution and wanted Mrs Pryor to know what it is like to lose a husband. As it happens, Mrs Pryor would soon have experienced that in another sense, since Pryor had applied to have their marriage annulled.'
'Twenty years ago,' Buck mused, looking significantly at Chris and Ezra. The timespan had not been lost on the other men. Perhaps there was a good reason for Vin erasing all memory of the events at that time.
Chris cleared his throat. 'Don't reckon Mrs Pryor'll be going anywhere in a hurry. Seems to me she was as shook up at finding Vin alive as he was at seeing her. You think she's in any danger from this Hanson woman?'
'I wouldn't rule it out. Mrs Hanson could be a danger to anyone, including herself.' He paused before adding, 'One witness says Mrs Hanson claimed to be Mrs Pryor's mother.'
- 11 -
Letitia Hanson rode over the dusty landscape on a chestnut mare stolen from Landon's livery stable. From the tiny window in her cell, she had seen her daughter leave the town by stagecoach. Two days passed before she managed to exploit her guard's carelessness and make her escape.
Only someone in her fragile state of mind would follow a coach alone, with negligible supplies and no idea of its route. Letitia hurtled on without hesitation, compelled by her need to make her daughter suffer as she had suffered, convinced that the righteousness of her mission guaranteed its success. Whenever she reached a fork in the road, she simply took the more traveled route. This bizarre method of navigation served her surprisingly well; so well that she was less than a day's ride from Four Corners when she made her first mistake. One of the cattle ranchers had recently moved a herd along a trail, making it look more heavily used than the road to town.
Letitia was way off course when she encountered a peddler traveling from the Indian reservation to Landon. Perhaps, someone somewhere was smiling on her, as the old man was only too happy to set her back on track, headed for a distinct twin peak on the horizon until she rejoined the road into town. Even a middle-aged woman with the distracted air of mental instability was lucky to meet no one more threatening than the old man in such untamed country.
- 12 -
Vin had been wandering aimlessly for half a day when he surveyed the landscape from the top of a ridge. Another ridge on the far side of the valley marked the boundary of the reservation. The sight of it made up Vin's mind - the cleansing properties of a sweat lodge had helped him order tumultuous thoughts on more than one occasion and he hoped they might do so now. He rode forward briskly, purposeful again.
When he reached the village, several of the residents emerged curiously. Word soon got around and it wasn't long before Chanu came to greet his friend. The two men had met several times since Vin helped clear Chanu of the murder of his white wife and the young Indian was always pleased to see the softly spoken tracker.
'Hey, Vin. Why you come here?'
Vin dismounted, fingered his reins uncomfortably, then said, 'Just riding.'
Chanu let the words hang in the air, knowing there was more to his friend's visit than that, giving him time.
Vin rubbed his nose with a knuckle, sniffed then finally expanded. 'Got a few things on my mind. Needed a chance to think 'em through.'
Chanu caught the man's glance at a steaming lodge on the far side of the village and nodded.
'Come. Join us.'
They stripped and entered the humid atmosphere. The silent strength of the men around Vin slowly filtered into his being. He relaxed, allowing his thoughts to take their own paths, his memories to return to their rightful places in his mind.
Vin did not believe in spirits as such, any more than he believed in God as such. If he believed in anything, it was in humanity itself. For all the low-life scum he met in his travels, he held on to faith in men like his friends in town. Even in his current turmoil, he believed the answers to his questions lay within himself, not in God, his ancestors or any other external agent.
- 13 -
It was dusk when Letitia approached Four Corners. She surveyed the town from a knot of trees, wondering if her daughter had sought refuge there. Any normal wife would have stayed to attend the trial of her husband's killer but then May was hardly that. Letitia ground her teeth as she thought of the liar… the temptress… the whore to whom she had given life.
As long years dragged slowly by in the institution, Letitia had asked herself a hundred, nay a thousand times, what she had done to bring such retribution on herself and her dear husband... that sweet man who had never hurt so much as a fly... that generous man who had taken in his wife's kin without so much as a murmur.
Now the whore would pay.
Abandoning the chestnut mare under the trees, Letitia embarked on the short walk into town. The long shadow cast by a spine of rock hid her approach until she was only a couple of hundred yards from the town. Then she flitted from corral to barn to house, her progress visible only to the most diligent of observers. Early on a Tuesday evening, the townsfolk were busy eating supper, settling horses, drinking beers and playing cards. No one was watching for a lone woman skulking by their doors and windows, listening to their conversations and spying on their chores.
Three men sat outside the saloon, nursing hour-old beers and considering the absence, and plight, of a friend. In the shadows behind them, Letitia listened.
'Well, Mr Wilmington. You seem to have opened a veritable Pandora's Box.' Seeing the reference was lost on his companions, Ezra explained. 'A mythical repository from which all the evils of the world emerged.'
Josiah came through the swing doors and, on hearing Ezra's words, remarked, 'Leaving only hope in the bottom.'
Ezra gave one of his reflective smiles. 'Indeed, Mr Sanchez. Do you think hope will suffice for Mr Tanner in his present situation? One can only speculate at this stage but we seem to have a woman who refuses to speak of the events of twenty years past and another who is willing to kill because of them. Meanwhile, Mr Tanner eradicates all trace of them from his memory.'
Tanner. Letitia started at the name. Her own family name, before she married Jack Hanson.
The big man settled himself on a chair that creaked under his weight. 'Vin's one of the best men I've ever known. I don't believe he was any different twenty years ago. Whatever happened, whatever he did, I'd stake my life on his reasons for doing it.'
Vin. Letitia felt as if she was suffocating, not realizing for a few seconds that she was holding her breath. Inhaling cautiously, she tried to control the thoughts that fought for dominance in her disordered mind. Was Vince here? Was that why the whore had come to this town?
Chris smiled at Josiah, sharing his faith. 'You'll get no argument from me. Ain't no man I was ever surer of.'
Letitia bit her lip, holding in the words she wanted to shout. That boy, that servant of the Devil, enslaved to the whore by his lust.
Ezra looked at Buck. 'I shared your surprise at Mr Tanner's reluctance to speak with Mrs Pryor before and that feeling persists. Would it not be easier for them to explore the past together than for him to attempt to find his own answers in the middle of nowhere?'
It was Josiah who replied. 'Having a childhood companion rise not merely from the dead but from beyond his recall must take some getting used to.'
'Anybody checked his wagon?' Buck asked. 'Coulda slipped back into town quietly.'
Chris gave a slight shake of his head. 'Looked in on my way over. No sign then that he'd been back.'
A wagon. Letitia had seen a wagon parked further along Main Street, opposite the hotel. All she need do was wait until Vince returned to it and she could make him pay as well. She crept away, working her way around the backs of the buildings until she found a vantage-point on a porch overlooking the wagon. Tucked behind a chimney stack, she would be invisible from the street even in daylight. She took a revolver from the bag slung over her shoulder and settled to her vigil.
- 14 -
Vin was still in the sweat lodge when the moon had climbed high in the sky. Others had come and gone but he remained, reliving his tenth year a day at a time, finding the memories survived intact but buried so deeply that he had been unable to retrieve them until now. In the safe atmosphere of the purification ritual, the scent of herbs around him and the influence of leaves and roots upon him, he watched and listened as events unfolded, seeing them at once through the eyes of a boy but with the experience of a man.
- 15 -
It was after two in the morning when Ezra left the saloon. After the discussion with his friends, he had played poker for modest winnings against townsfolk who knew him too well to lose more than they could afford. As much as he enjoyed the thrill, not to mention the proceeds, of a high-stakes game, he was content to keep his hand in between times with a few drinks and some tolerable company.
When he played seriously, Ezra barely drank at all. When he drank seriously, he preferred whisky. But, when he played socially, he usually went through two or three glasses of beer. That night had been no exception and now three glasses of beer were well on their way through him. He made a diversion to the rear of the livery stable, to find a suitable spot before heading for the comfort of his featherbed. While relieving himself, he again contemplated Vin's situation and decided to check the man's wagon, concerned at the idea of a friend being alone at a time when he perhaps needed company.
So it was that Ezra approached Vin's wagon from the livery stable, looking for all the world like a man who had ridden into town, put his horse away and was now retiring for the night. He was standing behind the wagon, surveying Vin's meager possessions with something akin to pity in place of his usual good-humored condescension, when he heard a footfall behind him.
The first thought to cross his mind was that Vin's tread was soft and that the man was now returning. It was immediately chased away by the knowledge that Vin would not creep up behind an armed man, even a friend, in the middle of the night. It was all too easy for accidents to happen like that. Ezra turned slowly, his right hand covering his gun, not seeking to provoke an attack and not expecting to be shot in the back.
The first shot caught his upper arm, the second his chest.
He dropped to one knee, looking up in surprise at his assailant. A wraith-like woman stood over him, triumph in her wild eyes and a cobweb of fine hair floating around her face, silver in the moonlight.
The shots brought faces to every window. One was Etta's. She took in the scene below her in a split second, the moonlit silhouette of the woman all-too-familiar, an injured man beside the wagon.
'Vinnie!'
She raced out of the door and down the stairs, unashamed in her night-dress. She crashed into a half-naked but armed Buck on the stairs. He grasped her firmly, having no intention of letting her run into whatever danger waited in the street outside.
All over town, men were reaching for clothes and guns: Nathan in the room above his office, Josiah in the back room of the church, JD and Chris in the boarding house at the far end of Main Street.
Etta wrestled with Buck. 'Let me go. She shot Vinnie. Let me GO!'
Outside, Letitia studied the man in front of her. 'I never thought I'd find you. I'm sorry but I must do this. I know it wasn't your fault - you fell under the whore's spell too. But I can't let you live… after what you did.'
Ezra fought the dizziness that threatened to push him into unconsciousness. He thought about shooting the woman but doubted he could move fast enough. His arm was leaden and pain pulsed through his shoulder.
Letitia raised the gun and leveled it at Ezra's face.
He looked into the barrel, the closest he had ever come to death. There was a time when he would have been terrified but now he was calm, content that - if he must die - it would be in a town filled with friends, men who would mourn him, men who would find him beside a friend's wagon, drawn there by concern for someone other than himself. He smiled: his mother would despise her son's last thoughts.
When the shot came, Ezra felt nothing. Wondering if that was how death was, he watched the gun fall to the ground and slowly realized that it had not fired the shot. Then velvety blackness engulfed him.
Five men converged on the scene, one still restraining a woman with an arm around her waist as firm as an iron band. She struggled against him and screamed at the older woman.
'You bitch! You mad old cow!'
The wraith flew at her, scratching wildly, not even slowed by the bullet hole in her right hand.
'Whore! Spawn of Satan!'
Buck turned his head away to avoid her nails, while Josiah grabbed her from behind. The men gripped their spitting, writhing prisoners while Nathan knelt down to tend to Ezra. When he turned the man over, Etta stopped struggling to look closely for the first time. After a shocked pause, she gave a hysterical laugh.
'You're not only mad, you're stupid too. That's not Vinnie. You just shot a complete stranger.'
It was a moment before her words hit home. The older woman looked down at the fallen man, then at Etta and finally at the half-dressed men around them.
Chris's face was a mean mask. 'That's right, lady. And you better hope he lives.'
Etta slowly regained some of her composure. She looked sorrowfully down at Ezra. 'Do you think he will be all right?' she asked in a tremulous voice.
Without looking up, Nathan said, 'Too soon to say. Gotta get the bleeding under control. Chris, JD, help me get him back to my office, will you?'
While the three men moved their comrade, Buck slackened his grip experimentally. The woman in his arms was distraught but not, as far as he had seen, either insane or dangerous. When she looked up at him, it was with embarrassment and sadness. The sorrow said a lot: as relieved as she was that her newly found Vinnie was unharmed, she was clearly concerned for the man who had taken the bullets in his place.
Josiah maintained his hold and propelled his captive towards the jail. Woman or no, there was only one place for her and that was behind bars. The Judge joined him on the way over, slower to respond to a nocturnal fracas at more than sixty years of age than his team of law enforcers.
'Looks like you got your defendant back,' Buck remarked.
'At this rate, I won't need to hold a trial. She seems eager to make me an eyewitness. Are Mr Standish's injuries serious?'
'Nathan said it's too soon to say if he'll pull through,' Josiah informed him grimly. He used a clean handkerchief to bind Letitia's injured hand. Chris's bullet had passed straight through and Nathan could patch her up later.
- 15 -
Vin sat transfixed as he watching the closing acts of the drama playing in his mind. Hearing Etta speak his boyhood name had drawn back a veil of his own making from his memories of her and their five years together. Now deep meditation had opened a door that his mind had locked in self-defense.
When he recognized Etta, he remembered everything about her in a flash. The memories were there like any others, he had simply forgotten how to find them. What he saw now was quite different. It was as if he was seeing the events for the first time, in sequence with no knowledge of what came next.
It was Sunday afternoon and Etta had disappeared after dinner. Vin had been searching for a while when he thought of an old cabin a mile or so from the house. It was a relic left by a prospector who once worked the Hanson's land. They had sometimes played there but it was a year or more since their last visit.
Now he stood outside the door, his hand on the wood, listening to muffled whimpers from within. When he opened it, he felt the same wave of shock as he had twenty years earlier. He swayed back against the side of the lodge, sharing the faintness of the boy through whose eyes he surveyed the scene.
As the events of that fateful day rolled on, only one thing was different. Watching as an adult, Vin was not bewildered. He understood exactly what was happening and confusion was supplanted by anger.
- 16 -
Back in town, Nathan leaned over Ezra's unconscious form. He had no concern about the wounded arm; the bleeding had stopped and he could remove the bullet later. The man's chest was another matter. By some miracle, the bullet had passed between the top of the lung and the collar bone. It was now firmly lodged against the shoulder blade. It was pure fluke that it had done so little damage, resulting only in substantial blood loss and heavy bruising. However, the bullet could not remain where it was and therein lay Nathan's concern.
He took even more care than usual as he prepared and sterilized his instruments. He cleaned the wound and the surrounding area diligently. If he managed to remove the bullet without doing more harm, he had no intention of allowing his friend to die from infection. He took a deep breath, looked upwards for inspiration from Heaven or anywhere else likely to offer it, then began the operation.
Chris leaned against the wall by the door, knowing the healer would do everything in his power to save their friend, wanting only to be on hand in case there was some way in which he could help. He stared at Ezra's body, reflecting how he had despised the man when they first met and how much had changed since then. They were not close, did not share the sort of friendship Chris had with Buck or the affinity he felt for Vin, but they had developed a mutual respect.
The fair man considered the gambler's strengths, his quick wit and his resourcefulness in a crisis. It was Ezra who bluffed the conspirators in Stephen's murder to expose one another, Ezra who dropped an explosive bottle of whisky down the chimney of the Nichols' armored wagon, Ezra who realized that proof of the murders of Chinese workers lay in the books in the boss's safe… There was no doubt their team would be weaker without him. There was no doubt Chris would miss him, whatever their differences. Catching the thought, he cast it to one side: Ezra was not dead yet and a friend should not be thinking as if he was.
- 17 -
Josiah, Buck and JD stared at the table in the jail. The Judge had returned to the newspaper office and Buck had seen Etta back to her room. Now there was nothing to do but wait for news of Ezra.
'Vin don't come back soon, someone may have to go find him,' Buck remarked. 'Don't reckon he figured on all this.'
Josiah nodded, his attention on the incarcerated woman. She was pacing the cell and mumbling incessantly, as if conducting an argument with herself.
'What kinda institution lets someone like her out?' JD asked.
All three men studied the prisoner.
JD frowned as he reached something in his memory of the day's events that puzzled him. 'Judge Travis said Mrs Pryor's husband had filed to have his marriage annulled. Is that like a divorce?'
'Not exactly,' Josiah replied slowly. 'An annulment means the marriage was never valid. It's usually either because the couple shouldn't have married, say they were related or already married, or because the marriage hasn't been consummated.'
Buck was still staring into the cell. Its occupant did not even appear to be aware of their presence. He shifted his gaze to his friends. 'She called Etta a whore. Don't hardly seem likely it wasn't consummated.'
Josiah gave a shrug. He didn't set much store by the woman's ravings and anyway the failed marriage might be unconnected. An impotent man might seek to release his wife from her commitment of his own free will.
Another hour passed before Chris joined them. He gave a slight nod in response to their anxious looks. 'Bullets're out and he seems to be resting okay. Nathan's hopeful.' He studied the prisoner as his friends had before him. 'Looks crazy to me.'
Josiah nodded his agreement. 'The Judge was thinking of holding a closed hearing in the morning to try to figure out what's going on. She admits the murder so it's more a matter of sentencing than trying the case.'
'Vin oughtta be here,' Buck repeated. 'For Etta if nothing else.'
Chris gave a half-laugh. 'You reckon you can find Vin out there by morning?'
The other men smiled, knowing he was right. Vin always covered the ground fast and light. Riding casually as he was, he wouldn't be impossible to track but it wouldn't be the work of a few hours, least of all in darkness.
They eventually dozed off in their seats a little before dawn. They had not slept for more than a couple of hours when Nathan came in, the opening of the door snapping them into instant wakefulness. He nodded with a tired smile.
'He should be okay.' The negro looked through the bars at the prisoner, now sleeping peacefully. 'Get anything out of her?'
'Ain't really tried,' Buck admitted. 'Don't reckon you could rely on what she said anyhow.'
Nathan nodded but said, 'Could be something made her how she is.'
His tone caught Chris's attention but it was Buck who asked, 'You blaming Etta?'
'Just saying we don't know what's gone on.'
Chris drew a deep breath. 'We do know she shot Ezra without even knowing who he was. That don't make me feel too forgivin'.'
'I ain't saying she ain't dangerous but that don't mean she don't have a story to tell.'
They were joined at that moment by the Judge. He stood at the bars for a few minutes, studying the prisoner and considering his options.
'Josiah said you were thinking on a closed hearing,' Chris prompted.
The old man turned to face them. 'Yes. There's no need for a trial to establish guilt, although I may have to go to a jury trial to determine whether she is responsible for her actions. Meanwhile, it'd be a help to know what the hell is going on. How is Mr Standish?'
'Should be okay,' Nathan confirmed again.
'Do we know why she shot him?'
'She thought he was Vin,' Chris explained.
'And why would she want to shoot Mr Tanner?'
The fair man shrugged. 'Far as we can tell, it's all to do with whatever happened twenty years ago. Vin don't remember it. Mrs Pryor won't talk about it.'
'Doesn't remember?' Travis asked incredulously. 'But this woman is willing to kill him over it.'
'Not doesn't,' Josiah said softly. 'Can't. He was only ten years old and he seems to have shut it out somehow.'
The judge considered the preacher's words. He had encountered such things before, more often in women than men. He had an abiding respect for Vin and wondered what could be so terrible that a man with his courage and integrity could not face it.
'All right,' he said finally. 'I'll hold the hearing in the Grain Exchange. I want both women there, calm, fed and as co-operative as you can get them. You can all attend: you may be able to contribute something with your knowledge of the past day or two and anyway it involves your friends. Say ten o'clock?'
With that, he left them to carry out his requests.
- 18 -
They all gathered as instructed at ten o'clock. The Judge took his place and surveyed the assembly before him. Etta May Pryor and Letitia Hanson sat facing him, on chairs positioned about fifteen paces apart.
Tired and pale, Etta stared at her hands folded in her lap. Glad as she was that Ezra was out of danger, she saw little else to celebrate in the wreck of her life. Even her joy at finding Vinnie alive was diluted by his abandonment of her now.
Letitia rocked to and fro continuously, a movement of only two or three inches testifying to her state of mind more clearly than any witness. From the moment she woke, she had resumed the constant muttered undercurrent that her captors had heard during the night.
Buck sat behind Etta and Josiah behind Letitia. The other three men took chairs between their friends, taking no chances on the women resuming their hostilities.
'Mrs Pryor,' the Judge began. 'Do you understand the purpose of this hearing?'
Etta's voice was quiet, hopeless, defeated. 'You want to know what this is all about.'
'Well, yes. Mrs Hanson does not deny that she killed your husband so there is no case to prove. However, her past history and present behavior makes me doubt that she can be held responsible for her actions. That is what I am trying to establish. Not to mention that her assault on Mr Standish has yet to be answered for.'
Etta looked up fiercely. 'She is responsible… for everything. She could have stopped it.'
Letitia stopped muttering. The allegation made her lunge for Etta, an attempt doomed to failure by Josiah's quick reflexes and enormous strength.
'Mrs Hanson,' the Judge growled. 'If you will not remain in your seat, I will have you bound to it.'
His words had no effect. The woman clawed at Josiah's arms, then launched into a torrent of filthy abuse. Nathan picked up the length of rope that Josiah had prudently set under his chair and bound the ranting woman securely to her chair. The indignity silenced her for a moment, then she glared sideways at Etta.
'She's responsible. That whore. That cock-sucking-'
The Judge slammed a fist on the table. 'Ladies! You will address your remarks to me and you will maintain a civil tongue.' He looked sharply at Letitia. 'I don't expect to hear language like that from cowboys and I won't have it here.'
After an emphatic pause, he began questioning.
'Mrs Hanson, why did you kill Mr Pryor?'
'To pay the whore back.'
'For what?'
'For what she did.'
'What did she do?'
'Ask her. Ask her. ASK HER.' The woman's voice rose in pitch and volume.
'Enough! Why did you shoot Mr Standish?'
'Who's he?'
'The man you shot last night.'
'I thought he was Vince. It was Vince's wagon.'
'Why would you shoot Mr Tanner?'
'To pay him back.'
'For what?'
'What he did.'
Travis looked to the ceiling for inspiration. Questioning the woman was hopeless. He looked at Etta, considered his next move and changed tack.
'Mrs Pryor, is Mrs Hanson your mother?'
Etta's surprise at the question was clear, as was her reluctance to answer it. Finally she said softly, 'She was.'
'Was?' The Judge's tone was gentler, sensing that the woman did not intend to be evasive but found the question difficult to answer.
'She is my mother but I was adopted when I was nine. Mrs Goodsall was more of a mother than that… than she ever was.'
'So you were adopted twenty years ago and this is all about something that happened then?'
After another long hesitation, Etta nodded.
'And you remember what happened but Mr Tanner does not?'
'So I gather.'
'You remember and you gather Mr Tanner does not?'
She nodded.
At that moment, the door opened and Vin stepped in. He touched his hat apologetically to the Judge. 'Sorry I ain't been around. Mary told me what's been going on.'
'Come on in, Mr Tanner. We need all the help we can get right now.'
Vin sized up the room, picked up a chair and set it down a couple paces from Etta. He squeezed her shoulder and seated himself, then glanced at Nathan and asked, 'Ezra seemed to be sleeping sound. He gonna be okay?'
'Reckon so.'
Vin turned his attention to the Judge, respectful both of the man himself and the authority he represented.
'Mrs Pryor, will you please tell us everything you remember, from the beginning - whenever that was.'
Etta sat in silence, eyes fixed on her hands, tears flowing freely. Finally, she shook her head. 'I can't. I've never spoken of it. I'll never speak of it. And, if Vin has been able to forget, I don't want to make him remember.'
Vin reached for her hand. 'I been up the reservation, thinking. I know what happened. You don't tell the Judge, I will.'
The woman at his side crumpled, her body wracked by sobs. 'I don't want people to know.'
'Seems to me keeping it quiet ain't done much good. Mary said your husband wanted your marriage annulled. That was 'cause of this, wasn't it?'
She nodded miserably. 'He was a good man, a kind man. He was so sure we could work it out but I just couldn't… Even after he realized it was hopeless, he was still kind… said he'd provide for me, do anything for me… Then she murdered him… took him away just like she took you away. I hate her.'
'I'm back now,' he said soothingly. 'Tell the Judge how it was, Etta. You gotta tell someone.'
Silence hung heavy in the room as the men waited to see if Vin's gentle persuasion could convince the woman to explain. The only sound was Letitia's murmured private commentary. Finally, Etta wiped her eyes and asked for a glass of water. Nathan quickly obliged and she took a few sips while ordering her thoughts. When she spoke, there was a girlishness to her voice, almost as if she had regressed into the memories she was relating.
'It started on my ninth birthday. Pa tucked me into bed like he always did… but he didn't go away. He… he said he was lonely… that he loved me… that he…' Her voiced trailed away. After a few seconds, she skipped forward. 'It wasn't so bad to start with. It didn't hurt and it seemed to make him happy. But then… he wanted more. He said he couldn't do it to Ma because it would make her ill again but I was so young… it would be all right.' She gathered momentum as she committed herself to the revelation. 'But it wasn't all right. It hurt and I wanted him to stop. He made me promise not to tell… said it was a secret… but I was afraid. I told Ma-'
She stopped and glared at Letitia. 'I told you but you said I was a liar. A dirty lying little bitch. Did you really think I would lie about something like that? How could I even have known about something like that?'
'Dirty lying little bitch.' It wasn't clear from Letitia's repetition of the words whether she was accusing her daughter now, remembering the words from years before or simply repeating what the other woman said. What was abundantly clear to all the men listening was what a horrific tragedy was now unraveling in front of them.
Etta resumed her tale. 'It kept on like that for a long time, perhaps five or six months. Pa used to take me to an old prospector's cabin not far from our house. I didn't know who else to tell, if my own mother didn't believe me. I don't know why I didn't tell Vinnie. He was everything to me, we'd hardly been apart for years. Maybe I was ashamed, maybe I was afraid he'd get hurt if he tried to do something. I think perhaps I just didn't want to spoil how it was between us.' She glanced at Vin. 'We had such dreams… you remember?' He nodded.
A tear ran down her cheek. 'But it was spoiled anyway. I couldn't bear you to touch me, soon I couldn't bear you near me. It was never the same again. Then… one day… you came looking for me when we were at the cabin.' She looked at him again. 'I saw you at the door, over his shoulder… the shock in your face. There were rocks from the collapsed chimney stack all around the cabin, where we'd played games with them. You picked one up and smashed it over his head. He fell on me, crushing me, but he didn't die straight away. He staggered about, hit you and then he passed out. You banged your head on a rock when you fell.'
She sipped from the glass of water. 'I thought you were both dead. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go back to her. I went to our neighbors, about five miles away I think. After that it was how you'd expect. The sheriff came to look into it. No one except her seemed to doubt what I said. My father was lying half-dressed in an old cabin, murdered by his ten-year-old nephew, his daughter wandering round the countryside, covered in his…'
She took a deep breath. 'They told me Vinnie was dead and found a new family for me. They were kind people, knew what had happened, tried their best to help me. I suppose I turned out mostly all right, except I can't stand a man… I was managing, sort of, till she came after me.'
There was a long silence. Judge Travis flicked a pencil to and fro pensively. Finally he asked, 'Does that coincide with your recollections, Mr Tanner?'
Vin gave a slight nod. 'Didn't know about the early stuff. I can recall the cabin clear as day now. Stood outside for a while… listening. When I opened the door… I didn't understand… but Etta was crying. I was only trying to stop him… didn't mean to kill him.'
With a deep sigh, he added, 'Back then, I didn't remember anything after Sunday dinner. I came round in the orphanage. When they said Etta was dead, I thought I must've killed her somehow and that's why they sent me away. They never found no new family for me so I ran off a couple of years later and took care of myself.'
He paused to consider his new memories. 'Seems like I forgot Etta 'cause I couldn't stand to think I hurt her. Soon as she spoke to me, it all came back. It was different with the other stuff, up at the reservation - real strange - like I was seeing it happen… didn't know what was coming next. Never knew it could be like that.'
It was clear the pragmatic man of the wilderness was disconcerted to find his mind was not as dependable as he thought. Travis reflected on his words briefly, then turned his attention to Letitia.
'Do you have anything to add to this, Mrs Hanson?'
The woman's rocking grew more agitated. 'She's a lying whore. Jack was a good man. He'd never have hurt his little girl.'
Vin moved his chair to her side, set it down back towards her and sat astride it, arms folded on the backrail. 'Aunt Letty?'
'Vince?' The rocking stopped and her voice sounded somehow younger.
'Yeah, it's Vince. Have I got any other cousins, apart from Etta?'
She shook her head miserably. 'No. The babies all died. Three before Etta, four after. She was the only strong one. That's why her Pa loves her so much.'
'Must have been hard.'
Tears spilled from her tired gray eyes. 'Worst thing you can imagine. The last two times, I got so sick I thought I was going to die. Can't go through that again.'
Even with his loyalty to Etta, Vin felt a surge of pity for the woman's misery. 'Uncle Jack must have been scared of losing you.'
'Yes, he was. We won't be having any more babies.'
Vin hardened his heart and took her forward. 'But then you lost us all, didn't you? Jack, Etta, Vince?'
Letitia's face froze in a mask of hatred. 'She took you both away. I was so desperate for a baby, I'd have done anything. I know what happened now.' An inhuman glint in her eye betrayed her madness as she confided, 'I thought God gave her to me but He didn't. Oh no, she came from the Devil, that one. She made Jack do what he did, then made you kill him for it. That's what happened, isn't it? Isn't it? You know you did it for her.'
Vin patted her hand gently. 'That's right, Aunt Letty. I did it for her.'
He stood and addressed the Judge. 'If anyone's to blame, it's Jack but he paid for it years back.'
Travis nodded. 'What a mess.'
Vin returned to Etta's side. Seeing her curious look, her surprise at his restraint, he squeezed her hand. 'She won't be bothering you no more, Etta. We gotta think about getting you so as you're doing a bit better than managing all right, sort of, eh? I wish you hadn't spent all these years living with it on your own.'
'It won't be so bad now. I always thought you died because of me. It's different now you're alive.'
His face brightened with the broad white smile his friends saw from time to time. 'Yeah. I know what it felt like thinking I'd killed you - couldn't live with it.'
-19 -
Within days, life in Four Corners returned to its usual routine. The Judge arranged for Letitia Hanson to be taken back to the institution in which she'd passed the last twenty years, with a recommendation that she would never be safe for release, and then moved on to his next appointment further west.
Ezra was recuperating, still frail but managing to propel himself between the hotel and saloon - and thus able to resume most of his usual pursuits. Vin made a private, and heartfelt, apology for inadvertently bringing the injury on his friend. Ezra dismissed it graciously, shocked like all Vin's friends at the horrors in his past and certainly not inclined to hold the man responsible for them.
Etta showed signs of recovery in her readier smile and more confident air around the men. She too apologized to Ezra, and to them all, but found the same understanding kindness as Vin had. She and Vin were sitting with Buck and Chris at a table outside the saloon when Buck asked if she was going to keep the name 'Etta'.
'Yes, Etta Pryor. My adoptive parents used my middle name, hoping it might help to put the past behind me, but the past isn't just the bad things - it's Vin too. And Harry was a good man - I wasn't much of a wife but I would like to keep his name.'
Buck smiled. 'Don't beat yourself up about your marriage. The bedding down ain't everything - sounds like he thought a lot of you anyhow.'
Chris and Vin were too slow to stop the astonishment from spreading across their faces: the sentiment was not one they'd expect from Buck. Etta gave a soft laugh, reading their thoughts precisely. She had been in town long enough, and knew men well enough, to understand their shock.
She looked thoughtfully at Vin. Was he a man or was he kin? There was nothing to say that cousins should not become involved but was he too close for comfort in the light of her history? Was he even interested in her in that way? She had no answers, only questions.
He saw her scrutiny and understood some of the thoughts going through her mind. He gave the easy smile she remembered so well, stood and offered his arm. She took it and they wandered away, headed for the creek.
'Think he'll be able to…' Chris left his question unfinished.
'Sort her out?' Buck joked. His expression immediately became more serious - Etta's past treatment, and her need for some future happiness, was not a joking matter to any of them and least of all him. 'Don't know. Lot of women'd just give up on men. Reckon a fair few old maids got their reasons for being that way.'
Chris looked sideways at his friend, knowing there weren't many people more attuned to what passed between men and women.
Hearing the couple laughing as they left town, Buck felt optimistic. 'Maybe he will. Ain't as if she don't like men: you can tell that from how she is with Vin, us too come to that, and how she talks about her husband. She's got a chance for a fresh start now and I don't know any man better'an Vin to help her make it.'
- 20 -
Vin and Etta walked down to the creek in friendly silence. They sat side-by-side on a mound and threw pebbles at a boulder in the middle of the watercourse. Vin hit it with every missile, while Etta missed with nearly half of hers.
'Was a time you'd have let me win,' she teased.
He thought on that, laughed and said, 'Spent too many years with men. We're a competitive bunch.'
She slipped her arm through his and snuggled close. 'You're bound to have changed in twenty years but you don't seem so different underneath. It's as if you've just put on a hard shell over the top.'
'Yeah, it is a bit like that. Gotta survive.'
She sighed deeply. Survive - she had wasted too many years trying to do just that. Finally she spoke hesitantly. 'I know the bedding down isn't everything… but it matters. Pa… Harry…' She rested her head on his shoulder. 'And not just for someone else. It'll never be over for me until I face it.'
'It's just a game.' He looked into the clear cornflower of her eyes. 'Want to play?'
She smiled at the familiar invitation, one they had often used to initiate a game. Her doubts about their relationship resurfaced. 'I'm not sure if you're a man or if you're kin.'
His eyes crinkled endearingly. 'Last time I looked, I was definitely a man. Do I have to be one or the other?'
'You know what I mean.'
'I'm your cousin, Ett, not your brother. I know… what with Jack an' all… but that ain't got nothing to do with us now.' He stroked her cheek softly with his knuckles. 'You need someone safe to show you it don't have to hurt and pay some mind to not leaving you with more trouble. I'd feel better if you'd let it be me.'
It wasn't long before she nodded. 'I'd feel better if it was you too.'
He cupped his hand behind her head and touched his lips to hers. Every muscle of her body was tense, her lips rigid under his, her neck stiff against his palm. He freed her and lay back against the mound.
'Kiss me.'
She looked down at him, surprised and bemused.
'Come on. Kiss me.'
She leaned over timidly and touched her lips to his. This time, they were soft as she reached out to him. He made no move, forcing her to take the initiative, removing the threat he posed to her when he took control. She leaned a little closer and pressed a little harder. Still he made no move, keeping his own lips relaxed but unmoving. She ran her tongue lightly along his lips. They remained closed.
Pulling back an inch or two, she looked into his wise blue eyes and knew that he could wait here all day, and many other days, never losing control, never taking more than she could give. She had only known one man with that sort of patience, her poor Harry, but he had never tried this approach. They had been locked in a cycle of his diffident advances, her sad rejections and mutual promises to try again another night.
She drew close again, tentatively covering his lips with her own and then pushing her tongue between his lips. He opened them a fraction, just enough to admit her, his tongue tucked tightly against his bottom jaw. She explored his mouth, then worked her way all over his face, discovering its contours with her lips and its textures with her delicate fingertips.
When she sat back again, he folded his arms behind his head and let his eyes twinkle mischievously at her. 'You win. Now what?'
She placed a hand on the buckle of his gunbelt.
'Help yourself,' he invited, wiggling his fingertips to indicate that his hands were firmly anchored and he would not be moving them. When she hesitated, he repeated, 'Just a game, Ett.'
She tentatively unbuckled the belt and then unbuttoned his pants. There was, naturally, one part of Vin's body over which he had little control and it was now registering its interest.
'Sorry. He's got a mind of his own.'
'That's the trouble, isn't it?' She intended the riposte to be light-hearted but there was fear in her voice.
'He can't go far by hisself and I ain't moving.'
She kissed him again, more confidently this time. Parting his underwear, she touched one finger to his erection. He grinned when she withdrew it hastily, as if burned. Her smile showed self-consciousness at the intimacy and embarrassment at her own reaction. She touched him again, running two fingers along the thick shaft and circling the head delicately. He clenched his jaw to stifle a moan and resolutely scoured his mind for something to dampen his ardor, settling on a memory of glimpsing Amelia Carson emerging from the creek - her ample folds of flesh were not at all to Vin's taste and served his purpose well now.
'One hand?' he asked her permission. When she nodded, he removed his right hand from behind his head and used it to stroke her hair and face. 'There anything you like?'
She considered the question, then looked shyly at him through her lashes. 'I quite like… well… my breasts. I didn't have them…'
He immediately understood her meaning. At nine years of age, she had no breasts so there were no unhappy memories of their abuse. He ran a finger down the buttons of her blouse, indicating that she should unfasten it if she wanted him to touch her. He would do nothing without her explicit invitation.
'Do people come down here?'
'Not often right here. Mostly to do what we're doing, truth be told.'
She unbuttoned and removed her blouse, unhooked her corsets and then slipped off her camisole. It seemed strange to sit half-naked in a public place but then it was just a game.
He paused to admire the shapely woman she had become. He let her lift his hand to her breast and then cupped the firm flesh gently, flicking his thumb to and fro across the erect nipple. A soft moan escaped her lips. He smiled, realizing that she was far from frigid and that what she faced was plain, simple fear.
She ran her fingers across his lips and whispered, 'Please.'
He sat up and took her other nipple in his mouth, teasing both until they were as hard as bullets.
She felt an unfamiliar pulse at her crotch and took a moment to recognize its significance. Scrambling to her feet, she removed her knickers then knelt beside Vin. Kissing him, she placed his hand between her thighs. He stroked her tenderly, taking his time, covering every inch of her soft skin but moving ever upward. He combed tight curls with his fingertips, then allowed his knuckle to slip discreetly into the cleft there. The dampness there told him that her body was as ready as his but he knew her mind might be some way behind.
He looked into her eyes. 'Okay?'
She nodded doggedly and, with a small smile, asked, 'Now what?'
He removed his boots and pants, sat down again and shrugged. 'Told you - I ain't moving.'
Clearly nervous, she cautiously positioned herself over his lap, folding her skirts so that her thighs were exposed. She knelt, hands on his shoulders, determination on her face. Moving slowly so as not to alarm her, he covered her breasts with his hands and brushed the tips of her nipples with his palms. He felt her begin to relax under the already accepted touch. She made several false starts, haunted by past experience but reassured to find that she could stop at any point. Finally, convinced she was in control, she lowered herself onto him.
Sliding easily into the moist cavern within her, he laughed out loud at the amazement on her face.
'Yup, that's all there is to it.'
'I hardly felt it.'
'You sure know how to hurt a man's feelings,' he joked.
She kissed him. 'I meant that it didn't hurt.'
'Usually means you're doing it wrong if it does. Now the trick is getting out afore I get too excited.'
She nodded, familiar with the principles of trying to avoid conception in spite of having little need of the knowledge.
'Mind if I take over?'
She shook her head and let him roll her onto her back. He studied her face and then, satisfied with the trust he saw there, concentrated on taking them both to satisfaction at the same time and withdrawing before he ejaculated. She was still gasping from the attentions of his finger when he spilled his seed onto her petticoats.
Without thinking, he collapsed onto her, then hastily went to raise himself when he realized that was exactly what he had made Jack Hanson do on that distant Sunday afternoon. Unfazed by the weight of his body on hers, Etta pulled him close.
'Oh Vinnie,' she whispered in his ear. 'I never knew it could be like that. Was it… all right… for you?'
He held her tightly, sorry that she had been introduced to the pain so early and the pleasure so late.
'Was it ever.'