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Learning to Improvise…
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Vin tried to wait patiently, something he normally had little trouble doing. But today, it wasn’t nearly as easy. Today, he had finally finished the love knot he’d made for Ezra, and he was waiting for Ezra to finish with the children so that he could give it to him.He had spent two days working with the string Nettie had given him. It had taken him that long to master the technique of weaving it together, and to create the design he wanted. Once he had that part figured out, the next had been to decide what to make the knot from.
Vin had already decided on a lock of his hair. He’d waited until today to actually cut it. Ezra loved his hair, and would be observant enough to notice a piece was missing. So Vin had put off cutting it until the last possible moment, not wanting to try and explain why he’d done it until he had the knot completed and ready to offer.
However, he wanted to have the knot be more than just his hair. He remembered what Nettie had said about the knot being a representation of their lives intertwined, and he wanted something of Ezra’s to be woven into the knot as well. He striped the lace from cuff of one of Ezra’s shirts. The shirt was one of several that the gambler claimed had been ruined beyond redemption, but that he kept in case of an emergency, like the need for makeshift bandages. The lace was incredibly soft, and very fine. The quality of it only served to confirm what Vin already knew; Ezra liked to wear well-made, first-rate clothing.
In the course of his wonderings, Vin had occasionally come across small items he liked, and made a point of hanging on to. One such personal treasure was a small number of turquoise beads. The most common color was a soft blue. But Vin had one unique oval shaped bead that one half was blue, the other half was green. Thinking the colors would also serve to symbolically represent them, he worked bead into the center of the knot.
Vin held the end result in one hand. A small blue and green bead, framed by the intricately woven network of hair and lace covered the center of his palm. He was still somewhat surprised by just how well it turned out. The cream colored lace, with it’s delicate loops and folds seemed to mirror in small detail of the main knot, while drawing attention to the turquoise bead. His hair provided a darker contrast, with the sun bleached strands adding a faint glimmer reminiscent of gold.
Vin took a deep breath. Hope Ez thinks it’s okay. Don’t matter what I think. Well, it does…cause I wouldn’t give something I didn’t think was worthwhile, but it ain’t really my opinion that…Oh for crying out loud, Vin Tanner, get a grip on yourself.
He shook his head trying to shake off his thoughts at the same time. Vin tried to relax, but found himself pacing the room with slow, measured steps instead. The faint sound of Ezra picking the lock, and then his usual knock interrupted Vin’s movements.
Vin had his gun held ready, but managed to keep himself from actually pointing it at the door. Really ain’t right to be pointing it at him. Know he said he didn’t mind, but it still just ain’t right.
Ezra slipped in, quietly closing the door behind him. He raised an eyebrow at seeing Vin standing in the center of the room. Vin usually lounged on the bed or sat in the rocker. Finding him in the center of the room was bound to seem a bit odd.
"Something wrong?"
Vin shook his head. "Nah. Jus’ couldn’t seem ta sit still."
Ezra’s sharp eyes studied him for a moment. "Perhaps, a foray into the wilderness would a better use of our afternoon than remaining indoors."
Whenever he got restless, Vin would feel the need to just ride out of town, and spend some time away from people. Ezra accepted that need for peace and quiet as just part of Vin’s nature. The gambler seemed to hesitate for a moment, suddenly still, his expression slipping from warm and open to blandly neutral. He offered quietly, "I will understand if you did not wish for me to accompany you. I realize that being constantly in each others company may be a bit wearing on your nerves."
"What?" Vin stared at him. Ezra was good at reading people, and there was no way he could have missed Vin’s brief, almost measured silence, and his obvious nervousness. Unfortunately, it had led Ezra to believe Vin was searching for away to tell him he wanted to be alone, that Ezra’s company would be unwelcome.
"No. Ez, no." Vin stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "I want you with me." Never want ya to think otherwise. Christ. This is not how I planned this.
He quickly shoved his gun in its holster, and pulled Ezra to him in a fierce hug. "Ya don’t wear on my nerves, ya damn fool." He got more than enough solitude to satisfy his needs when riding patrol, or waiting in Ezra’s room. In truth, aside from Chris, Ezra was the only other person who never seemed to get on his nerves or crowd him.
Vin pulled away enough to make eye contact. "Want you with me."
Ezra nodded once, smiling slightly, his stance relaxing into something more at ease. "Shall we partake of mother nature’s bounty, then? Spend this afternoon indulging ourselves in remote untamed landscape she has so graciously provided?"
It took Vin a moment to decipher those questions. Love the way he talks even if I don’t understand everything he says. Vin shook his head. "Not just yet."
Ezra frowned, eyebrows pulling together slightly. "Something is wrong."
"No. Not wrong." Vin contradicted Ezra’s statement. "Jus’ well…truth is…" Vin sighed, once again regretting that he simply didn’t have the same way with words his lover did. "Don’t rightly know how ta…look will you sit down, please?"
Ezra cocked his head to one side, and then shrugged. He stepped over to the bed and sat down. He made a graceful gesture indicating he Vin had the floor, and he was willing to wait for him to speak.
Vin took a deep breath. He reached for the key that hung around his neck, holding it so Ezra could see it. "You remember giving this to me?"
"I remember." Ezra answered, his attention totally focused on Vin.
"Meant a lot to me when gave it to me." Vin wrapped his fingers around the key. "Not sure if I can even explain it to ya, but it’s more than just a way for me ta get in here." Vin sighed, and released his hold on the key, tucking it back into his shirt. He bit his lower lip, brow furrowed as he tried to find the right words to explain himself.
"Havin’ it means ya trust me." Vin made eye contact. "Ya got all yer stuff in here, and you didn’t even think twice about givin’ me the right ta come and go. Didn’t seem at all worried that ya gotta pick the lock jus’ ta get in yer own room. First time in my life that someone was willin’ ta go out o’ their way for me. Do somethin’ they didn’t have ta jus’ for me."
Ezra’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak, but Vin held up a hand, keeping him quiet, needing to finish. "See, the other thing is…well, I know this is gonna sound stupid, but…having it is jus’ kinda like havin’ proof that ya love me."
"You had doubts?" Ezra asked quietly, eyes troubled, his tone of voice uncertain.
"No." Vin answered firmly, wanting to offer reassurances to his lover, not liking the way he sounded or looked when he’d asked that question. "Never had any doubts. It was just something I could hold on to whenever I was by myself. Something real, so I’d know that everything ‘tween us wasn’t just something I dreamed up."
Ezra’s smile was like a ray of sunshine, warm and bright, and full of understanding. When he spoke his voice was hesitant, almost shy. "I, too, on occasion, have sometimes found myself uncertain as to whether this was all a wonderful flight of fancy, or genuine reality."
Vin chuckled, his earlier nervousness vanishing. "Quite a pair, ain’t we?"
Ezra’s dimpled grin clearly showed he shared Vin’s humor. "Indeed we are. A matched set."
Vin hesitated, enjoying the moment before continuing. "Thing is…I wanted to give you something that would work for you the way the key works for me."
Ezra immediately tried to protest. "Vin…that isn’t necessary. Really—"
Vin stopped Ezra’s words by moving forward to crouch in front of him blue eyes level with green. "Know it ain’t necessary. Don’t HAVE to give you anything, any more than you had ta give me the key. I WANT to."
Ezra nodded slowly. "As long as this is your choice, and not done from some misplaced sense of obligation." He raised a hand, using the back of it to lightly caress Vin’s cheekbone, his expression tender. "I’ve already received far more from you, Cheri, than I ever imagined."
Reckoned right ‘bout what he’d say. Guess that means I am really getting to know him. Vin smiled. "Then a little more won’t hurt, will it?"
Ezra grinned, dimples readily visible, gold pre-molar glinting. "Touché."
"That mean ya agree with me?"
Dimples made another appearance. "More or less." Something in Vin’s expression elicited more of an answer from Ezra. "Specifically, it means you made a point…one I cannot effectively argue against. So while, I may not agree, I really have no grounds to disagree."
Vin shook his head in amazement. Never get a simple answer. "Ya couldn’t just say yes?"
Ezra shrugged one shoulder. "Certainly." Green eyes sparkled with good humor. "I choose not to."
Vin chuckled. "You are something else, Ezra P. Standish."
Ezra tipped his head, somehow managing to convey a bow in that abbreviated gesture. "Thank you."
Deciding that now was likely to be the best time, before he lost his courage or got nervous again, Vin held out his hand. The knot rested in the center of his palm. He silently offered it to Ezra. The cardsharp hesitantly reached out to touch one finger to the knot, delicately tracing the intricate design.
"It’s a love knot." Vin said, relieved his voice was steady, and didn’t betray how anxious he was.
Wide green eyes rose to meet Vin’s blue ones. "You made this?"
Vin nodded, struck speechless by the awed, almost reverent tone of Ezra’s voice.
"You made this…for me?"
Vin nodded again, his nervousness back in spades. Must be somethin’ bad ta make him repeat himself. This was a bad idea. Shoulda thought of somethin’ else. His attempt to withdraw the knot, and hide it from view, was thwarted by Ezra simply plucking it out of his hand.
"I have seen such remembrances before." Ezra’s fingers again delicately caressed the token. "But…I never expected to…be so lucky as to receive one. Never really considered the possibility another might find me worthy of such an honest and heartfelt gift."
Vin quickly stifled his anger at hearing his lover think he might be unworthy of anything. He doesn’t need my anger. Needs ta know I what I think. "Don’t know anyone more worthy than you, Ez."
"Your hair." Ezra traced the knot once more. The gambler’s sharp eyes assessed Vin. One hand reached out and unerringly located the shorn lock.
"It’ll grow back, Ez." Vin wasn’t entirely certain if Ezra was upset that he cut his hair or not. Don’t look upset. Looks more surprised than anything else.
"The lace?" Ezra raised an eyebrow.
"From the cuff o’ one yer old shirts." Vin bit his lip. "Was one ya said was ruined." Vin hastened to assure his lover. Don’t want him thinkin’ I’d destroyed somethin’ o’ his.
Ezra smiled slightly. His eyes were warm with an emotion Vin couldn’t quite name, but the tracker would love to see more of whatever it was. Never seen his eyes look so green ‘fore. Reminds me o’ the same green ya see at a spring after crossin’ the desert. A word Ezra had used once came to mind. Vibrant. Yeah. That’s it.
"If I remember correctly, love knots are meant to show life and love intertwined." Ezra’s voice was so soft he all but whispered. "You included something of you, and something of me, yes?"
Vin nodded, and breathed easier, relieved that Ezra understood. Shoulda figured he’d know what it meant. Smartest man I know…ain’t real surprisin’ he’d know about this too.
"The bead represents us both then." Ezra’s smile deepened. "Two separate," Ezra’s fingertip traced Vin’s hair and then the lace, "becoming one." He lightly stroked the bi-colored turquoise bead. "Still unique and distinct, but no longer autonomous."
"Yep." Vin felt himself smile in response. Wasn’t quite what I was thinking, but it’s close enough. He jus’ put it a bit better than I did is all. Man sure has a way with words.
"This is exquisite, Vin."
"That good?" Gotta know for sure.
Ezra smiled warmly at him, erasing the last shadow of doubt. "More than good, Cheri. Far more than good. It is exceptional, extraordinary. A treasure, to be sure."
Vin shook his head; bemused by Ezra’s praise, and not certain his gift was worth all that. "Just some hair, a little lace and a bead, Ez."
Ezra lightly tapped Vin’s chest, hitting the spot where the key resided. "And that is just a key."
Vin smiled ruefully. "Touché."
Ezra laughed. It was a sound of open, honest delight, something the former bounty hunter never got tired of hearing. Wish I could find a way ta make him do that more often.
Ezra leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Vin’s lips. It was sweet, gentle. "Thank you." He whispered, a faint puff of air that ghosted across Vin’s moistened lips, making the tracker shiver slightly in response.
"Yer welcome." Vin managed to get out after a moment.
Ezra pulled back, and looked at the knot he still held in his hand. He studied it and then nodded to himself. He leaned sideways, toward the bedside table, and opened the drawer. Ezra withdrew a small roll of leather that Vin had never noticed before. Course, isn’t not like I’ve gone through is things, so I s’pose there’s probably a lot o’ stuff I haven’t seen.
Ezra pulled the string, and opened the roll on the bed next to him. Vin blinked, surprised to glint of gold and silver. The gambler had revealed a small collection of jewelry. Vin studied the pieces as Ezra deftly sorted through them.
He frowned. There were several pendants, a few chains, what had to be a pair of ladies earrings, and a couple of rings. Vin didn’t know much about jewelry, but he had no doubts each piece was of better than average quality, and probably worth a pretty penny. Never saw him wear any o’ that. Course most of it ain’t really his style, but still…would have thought I’d have seen some of it at one time or ‘nother.
"Ez, what is all this stuff?"
"Currency, when I have nothing else to offer." Ezra answered calmly, eyes still on the bundle before him. "Easily transported, and hidden. Acceptable anywhere."
Vin pursed his lips. For the first time, he wondered just how much his lover had squirreled away. Not because he was interested in the amount, but more the reason for it. Vin was beginning to understand that it wasn’t about greed. Had it been about greed, Ezra would never have revealed this stash to him at all.
It’s almost like he’s scared not ta have ready cash on him. Like he’s gotta have it hidden in different places so no one will ever be able ta take all of it, and leave him high and dry. Kinda makes sense given what his mother put him through. Sellin’ him ta pay off a debt. Stealin’ his saloon. What kind o’ mother would kill her child’s dream? That no good bitch! Vin took a deep breath. Best not ta think on her right now. Don’t want to spoil the day.
Ezra gave a small sound of satisfaction. He pulled one chain free of the collection. It was a twisted rope of gold. Vin watched as his lover threaded the chain delicately through the knot, careful to make certain it was secure, without altering the integrity of the knot. Ezra then held it up for Vin to see. The knot now hung suspended from the chain, reminding Vin of broaches he’d seen a few women in town wear.
Ezra held it out to him, and Vin took it. The gambler then removed his cravat, and undid the first two buttons of his shirt, turning slightly away from Vin. He made a gesture that Vin correctly interpreted as an invitation. The tracker rose to stand behind Ezra, and hooked the chain around his neck.
Ezra turned to face Vin again. The love knot hung just below the hollow of his throat, seeming to be so much a part of the man Vin loved, that it might well have always been there. With his collar buttoned no one else will be able to see it.
Vin grinned. "Looks good."
Ezra winked at him, that saucy look suddenly making it hard for Vin to breath. "How could it appear any other way, Mr. Tanner?"
He knew Ezra was teasing him by using his surname. A playful Ezra wasn’t something Vin intended to let pass up. "Could look a bit better though." Vin stated, his voice light enough to let his lover know he wanted to play.
"Really?" Ezra raised an eyebrow, and pursed his lips slightly. "How so?"
Vin started undoing the rest of Ezra’s buttons. "Need ta open this a bit more." He undid all the buttons, taking time to apply teasing, arousing touches to his lover’s chest as he did so. "Maybe take it off all together." He nodded as though giving that thought real consideration. "Yeah. I think that might just be best. Need to get a big picture view here."
Ezra looked at him from under his lashes, a look that was blatantly provocative. "But what about our sojourn into the wilderness?" Ezra’s question was coy, and Vin knew it.
"That can wait." Vin’s answer was decisive. He was enjoying what he was doing right now, and looking forward to what came next. Wanna spend the rest of the afternoon right here. "We’ll go tomorrow."
The lanky tracker was delighted when Ezra laughed. That was twice in one day he got to hear that wonderful sound. Gonna be a good day after all.
+ + + + + + +
Chris Larabee made his way to the saloon as he normally did each evening. He took his usual seat, and made a casual study of the patrons. It looked like quite a few of the local ranch hands were in town tonight, making the saloon a more crowded than usual. They were drinking, but didn’t look to be getting rowdy just yet.
Might bear watching though. Could be trouble. ‘Specially since there are hands from the Lazy S, and the Double T here tonight. Don’t know what the bad blood between those two spreads is all about, and I don’t care. As long as they keep their noses clean while they’re in Four Corners, that’s all that matters. Probably just wishful thinking. Dumb bastards always seem bound and determined to spend at least one night in jail when ever they come to town.
Chris looked up, hearing the sound of someone walking down the stairs. The step was light, and Chris knew before he looked who it had to be. He watched Ezra descend, and make his way over to the table where he typically held court, as Chris liked to think of it. The gunslinger cocked his head, studying the younger man. He’s definitely in a good mood. With a small smile Chris realized progress was being made. Was time I couldn’t read anything from him at all.
Vin appeared a moment letter, slipping silently into the seat next to Chris. The dark clad gunslinger noted Vin seemed to be in just as good a mood as Ezra. He found it oddly gratifying to know things were still good between the two of them. He’d had his doubt about their relationship initially, but had none now.
Would have never thought the two of them would make a couple. Let alone be this good for one another. Chris shook his head. Just goes ta show I don’t know a thing about matchmaking.
"You two have a good afternoon?" Chris couldn’t resist asking, giving Vin a sly look as he did.
"Yep." Vin’s lips quirked upward in a small half-smile, blue eyes twinkling.
Chris rolled his eyes. Didn’t really expect more of an answer than that. Should know better. Chris couldn’t help thinking that having one friend eager to share intimate details was more than enough. Sort o’ glad Vin isn’t like Buck. Not sure I could handle getting any more blow-by-blow stories.
Chris motioned to Inez to bring him a bottle. She sauntered over, neatly avoiding a tipsy cowboy’s reach, and weaving her way through the crowd. The raven-haired bar maid placed a bottle and two glasses down on the table with a small smile.
Chris returned it with a slight nod. "Gracias."
"De nada, Senor." She replied softly
"Any o’ these boys givin’ you trouble, Ma’am?" Vin asked softly, his eyes indicating the cowboys that filled the room. Chris was pretty sure the tracker had already noticed the same things he had, and was looking for where trouble might blossom.
"Nothing I can not handle." Inez replied, winking at him.
Chris and Vin shared a look, and the gunslinger knew his friend was thinking the same thing he was. Said nothing she couldn’t handle…which means they’ve been difficult, but not too bad yet. Was right thinking they need watching.
Chris sipped the drink he poured, eyes roving around the room again. He noticed that Vin’s eyes strayed to the table where Ezra was playing poker. The game seemed to be the same as usual. A few men had evidently been waiting for Ezra to show up.
Chris frowned thinking that the ones who’d been waiting were fools. You’d think they’d know by now that they aren’t ever gonna get the better of Ezra when it comes to cards. The gunslinger was honestly surprised that more trouble didn’t start at the gambler’s table.
Would assume it to be the natural starting place. Nobody likes loosing their money, and there was a time I figured that any trouble in the saloon just had to start with Ezra and his gambling. Real damn disgusted with myself. It took way to long for me to figure out that I could count on one hand the number of times things actually got out of control at Ezra’s table. Just didn’t trust him not to be a problem, and I let that cloud my judgement. Was just plain stupid.
Chris pursed his lips wondering if the lack of trouble emanating from the gambling table might not have something to do with Ezra. He had spent several days just watching the gambler with newly opened eyes, and Chris realized that Ezra seemed capable of maintaining control of his playmates almost as well as he did the cards he dealt. The conman had managed to talk his way out of trouble more than once, deftly avoiding situations that would have gotten others killed. And it certainly didn’t hurt that Ezra didn’t like playing with drunks.
Ezra had told him once, shortly after the seven had taken over protecting Four Corners, that playing with drunks was always a poor bet. Chris had scoffed. "Would think a man would be easy to win against when he isn’t thinking straight. Hell, they’ll never be able to tell that you’re cheating."
"I don’t cheat." Ezra had stated calmly, before smirking, eyes bright with inner amusement. "And in any case, if I did, drunk or sober, my opponents would never be able to determine that fact for certain." Ezra shook his head, his expression suddenly sober. "Mr. Larabee, a drunk man, can be the most dangerous of foes."
Curious, Chris couldn’t resist asking, "Why?"
"Because, one can never accurately determine precisely how a drunk man will react. It leaves far too much to chance. The only thing more dangerous than playing a drunk, is to be playing while inebriated. Poker is a game of wit and skill, Mr. Larabee. It is far less a gamble than the untrained perceive it to be."
At the time, Chris hadn’t really taken Ezra seriously. But after watching the younger man, he finally realized that the cardsharp had shared something of himself in that moment. Something of his outlook, and habits. The gambler seldom drank to excess, or sat for long at a table with drunks for opponents.
Chris smiled tightly remembering the first time he’d seen Ezra. The cowboys Ezra had held off with his peashooter had been drinking, to be sure, but they weren’t all the way gone. Them still being sober is probably the only reason his bluff worked at all. Don’t think a drunk would have had enough sense to realize that little pop gun of his could be deadly. Wonder what Ezra would have done if the idiots had called his bluff. Chris shook his head, knowing the conman probably had a back up plan of some kind. He usually does.
Vin’s eyes continued to wonder around the room, returning to Ezra’s table after each sweep. Chris knew that even before they’d become a couple, the former bounty hunter had made a habit of watching the cardsharp’s back. The gunslinger had never guessed that there was more to Vin’s caution than simply looking out for one of their number.
Kind of wonder how I survived this long not being able to see what was right in front of me. Chris snorted, disgusted by his own short-sightedness. Vin raised an eyebrow.
Chris waved a hand, letting him know it was nothing. At least not anything I care to explain. He shot Vin a dirty look, when his friend smirked, blue eyes dancing with mischief. Got the feeling he already knows anyway.
"Where’s Buck?" Vin asked, after several minutes of companionable silence.
Chris half smiled, more or less expecting the question. The seven usually got together in the evenings, and lately is was Buck who had been joining Chris first, with Vin showing up later. Chris didn’t begrudge the extra time Vin spent with Ezra. And in some ways, he was honestly grateful for the chance to renew his friendship with Buck. In burying himself in his grief over the death of his family, and doing his level best to isolate himself from the world, he had forgotten just how much he liked the gregarious, fun loving cowboy.
"New lady friend." Chris answered with a suggestive look.
Vin rolled his eyes. "Sure hope this one ain’t married."
"Me too." Chris loved Buck like a brother, but he knew as well as any of them just how much trouble Buck’s penchant after chasing after married women could be. Still am amazed some jealous husband hasn’t killed him. Man has almost as much luck as Ezra. Come to think of it…Buck just might have more.
"Nathan and Josiah should be wandering in shortly." Chris added after taking a sip of his drink. Josiah had offered to help Nathan gather more herbs for his supplies. Chris had seen them both ride into town less than an hour ago. He expected them to stroll in at any time.
JD was still on duty at the jail. His shift wouldn’t end until Ezra’s began, but the youngest member of their little band would still make an appearance each evening, just to touch base if nothing else. It was no coincidence that Chris assigned JD the shift when the majority of the others were in town. He wanted the young man to have as much back up as possible, while still allowing him to enforce his authority as sheriff, and be treated as a competent member of their peacekeeping force.
The gunslinger was sure the others knew what he’d done. Don’t want JD to think I’m treating him different, but I want him to live to be my age too. Means we just keep a closer watch on him. Maybe not as obvious about it as Buck, but I am doin’ my best to keep JD from getting hurt.
Josiah and Nathan sauntered in, both looking very pleased with themselves. The ex-preacher, and the healer, made their way to the bar. Chris expected them to pick up a beer, before joining them.
The gunslinger tensed when one of the cowboys from the Lazy S, Nick Bantrim, blocked Nathan’s path. Bantrim had made no secret of his thoughts regarding Blacks, Indians and the Chinese. The man was almost pathological in his dislike of non-Aryan races. His attitude was not shared by any of the townspeople, but that hadn’t kept Bantrim from voicing his opinion, loudly, every time he came to Four Corners.
Chris’ eyes narrowed as he observed Bantrim. The gunslinger had agreed with JD, when the young sheriff pointed out the fact that voicing one’s opinion, no matter how insulting, was not against the law. And until Bantrim actually did more than just mouth off, they really didn’t have grounds to arrest him.
Not that I don’t want ta just hold him down and beat the shit out of him any way. Just on general principle. But JD was right. We’re the law here…much as I hate letting him spew that garbage, we have to apply the law equally or not at all.
Nathan moved to step around Bantrim. But the cowboy continued to block his path. "You ain’t welcome here." Bantrim growled, poking his finger into the center of Nathan’s chest.
Chris could almost feel Vin’s attention focus on Nathan and Bantrim. Both of them had shifted in their seats, hands falling to their weapons ready to act should Bantrim decide to do more than just mouth off. He wouldn’t allow Nathan to be attacked by a loud-mouthed bigot. Chris had claimed him as one of his own, and would go to great lengths to defend what was his. But he also didn’t want to undermine Nathan’s ability to deal with the situation peacefully. Since signing on as a peacekeeper, the healer had shown himself to be more than capable of handling people like Bantrim, often without even having to raise his voice, or resort to violence.
Chris didn’t like doing it, but he waited. He wanted to give Nathan the chance to handle it quietly before he moved to intervene. It had been Ezra who’d pointed out, months ago, that his shooting people like Bantrim, no matter how much he wanted to, would only serve to make people more afraid of Chris, and his lightening fast gun. It wouldn’t do anything to ensure that Nathan was treated with the respect he deserved. Nor would it allow them to see him as equally capable of handling trouble as the other six men hired to protect the town.
The gunslinger grimaced, realizing he and Vin weren’t the only ones focused on the possibly escalating confrontation. Some looked eager, anticipating the violence with an almost rabid excitement. Others looked wary, uncertain, but no one seemed inclined to walk away. For some reason it reminded Chris of the spectators who had come to see the first battle of Bull Run. There were always those who seemed drawn to participate in blood sports, just as there were always those who liked to watch. Shit. No way this isn’t going to get ugly. Just no way.
Chris cast a quick glance toward the poker table. He wanted to see if Ezra was also ready. The gambler was calmly gathering his cards, and putting them in his jacket, watching every move like a hawk as he did so. Sharp green eyes seemed to be weighing every person in the room, assessing each party. Ezra tipped his head toward Chris letting him know he was prepared to do his part, should the need arise.
"Is there a problem, brother?" Josiah asked Bantrim, his deep voice carrying through the now quiet room even though he didn’t speak loudly. "We simply wish to get a drink. No cause for trouble."
Bantrim scowled Josiah. "This don’t concern you, Preacher." His dark, beady eyes shifted back to Nathan. "I’m talkin’ ta the nigger."
Nathan’s jaw tightened at the racial slur. "I don’t think you have anything to say that I care to hear." Nathan’s tone was surprisingly mild, despite the fire in his eyes.
"Is that so?" Bantrim snarled.
Nathan managed to smile tightly. "I’ve heard it all before. No reason for you to repeat it. Just want to get my drink, and I’ll be on my way."
"Yeah, Bantrim. Jus’ shut the hell up, and let the man get his beer." Jack Cantrell piped up from where he was leaning casually on the end of the bar. Cantrell was ramrod for the Double T. Chris knew he hadn’t spoken up out of any fondness for Nathan, but out of spite for Bantrim.
"Darkie has as much right ta drink here as you do." Cantrell gave a derisive laugh. "Maybe more. Least he ain’t some half-bred mongrel like you."
Chris swore silently, getting to his feet. Goddamn, miserable bastards. They’re just looking for an excuse to start a fight. Just bound and determined to start trouble.
Chris saw Vin slid out of his chair, crouched and ready. Unfortunately, they weren’t the only ones moving. Every cowboy for both the Lazy S, and the Double T, had come to attention as well. Chris glared at those nearest to him, halting their actions and holding them in place, at least for the moment.
"I don’t want no damn uppity nigger stinkin’ up my saloon." Bantrim spat at Cantrell, squaring off to face the other cowboy, seeming to have forgotten Nathan entirely. "And I ain’t a half-breed, you son of a bitch!"
"Well, ya can go get yer drink somewhere else then! Ain’t yer saloon ya two bit rustler!" Cantrell stepped away from the bar. Several of his crew flanked him.
"It’s mine if I say it’s mine!" Bantrim roared, moving in to attack Cantrell. And just that quick the brawl was underway.
Chris hated brawls. They lacked style and finesse. He never knew what would set one off, or how long it would last. Brawls were like a whirlpool sucking in everyone in the room. Fists were flying, and furniture suddenly doubled as weapons as tables were knocked over, chairs broken.
Chris briefly wondered if he should be grateful or pissed that no guns had been drawn yet. Grateful in that it might actually keep serious injury to a minimum, but pissed since he couldn’t justify drawing his own when no one else had yet. Firing a shot into the ceiling won’t work with these clowns. Never has before.
Josiah and Nathan were so close to the epicenter, they had no choice but to join in full bore. The gunslinger worried for Nathan. He might not be the real reason for this dust up, but that didn’t mean he might not still be a target by those misguided idiots who believed him to be the cause.
Chris was confident that Josiah would do his level best to protect his friend. The former preacher was bigger than any man present, and managed to more than hold his own against the onslaught, dropping two cowboys almost immediately by banging their heads together. Nathan managed to stay close to Josiah, covering the big man’s back, while taking out another cowboy with a well-placed blow to the temple. The healer was no slouch when it came to fisticuffs, and seemed to be a match for anyone who came his way.
Chris started on the fringe, taking down any man knocked out of the fray, and making sure he stayed down. He kept trying to work inward toward the center in the hopes of reaching Josiah and Nathan. Vin moved to stay next to Chris, covering his back and right side. The lean tracker moved with a lethal grace and speed that made it difficult for anyone to land a blow, while he dealt out his own with surprising force.
A flash of red caught his eye, and Chris smiled. Ezra was on his left. As the shortest, and most dandified looking member of their group, it might be logical to think the gambler would be the least dangerous. In reality, the gambler was probably the most dangerous simply because no one really expected him to be, and he didn’t fight fair. Ezra didn’t hesitate to do what ever it took to win.
Damn glad the little shit is on our side. Chris grinned when Ezra hit his opponent below the belt, and then executed a neat upper cut to the jaw when the man bent over. The cowboy, who towered over Ezra by more than a foot, toppled like a felled tree.
Three cowboys from Double T stopped hitting opponents from the Lazy S long enough to gang up on Josiah, knocking the big man off balance. The ex-preacher stumbled back a step or two, moving away from Nathan, as he tried to hold them off and recover his balance at the same time. Nathan turned to pull one of them off Josiah, leaving his back exposed to the knot of men trading blows behind him.
Chris saw two of Bantrim’s cohorts, Smith and Saxton, were no longer fighting with cowboys from the Double T. Their focus was on Nathan’s undefended back. The faint flicker of light on steel was the only indication Chris had that Smith was holding a knife. Saxton was holding the leg of a chair, intent on using it as a bludgeon.
Ezra surged forward with a warning cry. "Nathan! Look out!"
Chris wasn’t certain how Ezra managed to cover the crowded floor so quickly, but the nimble cardsharp was there in time to give Nathan a hard shove, keeping the healer from getting a knife in the back. Unfortunately, Ezra was unable to evade the knife entirely. With an evil smile, Smith buried his knife in Ezra’s right shoulder. Not to be left out, Saxton used the chair leg he held to land a solid blow just above the gambler’s temple, opening his scalp at the hairline, and dropping the smaller man like a pole-axed steer.
Josiah made a sound like an enraged bull, attacking the three cowboys with renewed and deadly fury, trying to get to Ezra. Nathan, having recovered from Ezra’s shove, turned to help. But it was Vin’s reaction that proved to be the most effective.
The tracker pulled his mare’s leg with a blinding speed Chris hadn’t known he was capable of. Instead of firing it, Vin swung it with brutal force. He struck the cowboy in front of him, breaking the man’s forearm with a resounding snap, sending the cowboy to the floor with a loud scream.
That piercing scream was sufficient to halt almost everyone. Everyone but Saxton, who had raised the chair leg again, clearly intending to strike the fallen gambler a second time. Vin aimed and fired once. His shot reduced the leg to splinters, and left Saxton cradling a hand shredded by force of flying debris. Saxton sank to his knees, cradling his injured hand and crying. Suddenly, the only discernable noise in the room was Saxton’s whimpers, and the soft moans from the cowboy whose arm Vin had broken.
Chris had pulled his gun the minute Vin had pulled his, and he kept it pointed at the now subdued mob. "This. Party. Is. Over." He snarled, eyes daring someone to do something asinine.
He heard Inez cocking her shotgun behind the bar, using it to add weight to his order. Good girl. The pretty bar maid had ducked behind the bar once fists started flying, but Chris knew she had only done so with the intent of snagging the gun she now held. Inez has shown herself to be more than capable of handling trouble in the past.
Josiah had drawn his gun as well. Although, Chris was fairly certain the large man’s expression which promised horrible retribution was more of an effective deterrent than the gun. The gentle giant many thought Josiah to be was no longer in residence.
A demon prepared to vent the wrath of God might be a closer assessment of him at the moment. Attacking Ezra was the fastest way to get on that man’s bad side. God help Smith and Saxton if Ezra ain’t alright. Course they don’t really know it, but they got more reason to be afraid of Vin. Josiah might just beat them to death. Vin will make it so it takes days for them to die. Bastards would be begging for death by the time he finished with ‘em.
Chris’ own feelings on the subject were leaning the same way. He sent a dark look toward Saxton, feeling a moment of intense satisfaction at knowing the man was in a lot of pain. The amount of blood pouring from his hand made Chris wonder if he might not loose use of that hand permanently. Serves the son-of-a-bitch right. Almost sorry Vin didn’t kill him out right and be done with it. Kinda sorry he didn’t take Smith too.
Seeing Chris, Josiah and Inez had the room under control, Vin and Nathan both immediately moved forward to check on Ezra. The healer carefully moved Ezra from his side to his back. Chris could tell the lanky Texan was holding his breath as he waited for Nathan to place a gentle hand against Ezra’s neck, and check for a pulse. Vin took a shaky breath, as did Josiah, when Nathan nodded, letting them know the gambler was still among the living.
Despite his obvious focus on his fallen lover, Vin hadn’t holster his gun. He kept it steadily trained on Smith, even when his eyes were on Ezra. Once Nathan started to examine Ezra more closely, Vin rested his free hand lightly on the gambler’s chest, just above his heart. Chris knew he was verifying for himself that Ezra still lived and breathed. The gunslinger figured the action was subtle enough not to garner much attention.
Vin’s attention shifted to pin Smith in place with just a look. His blue eyes had paled to the color of glacial ice, and contained a raw fury that promised a lot of pain if Smith so much as moved the wrong way. The cowboy for his part stayed very still, keeping his hands up, and away from his body. Smith reminded Chris of a rabbit trapped by a hungry wolf.
JD stepped into the saloon, careful not to be framed in the doorway, moving to the left with his colts drawn. Buck slipped in behind JD, and moved to the right. They both had the room covered, and kept their backs to the wall. Chris was impressed with just how well the two of them worked as a team. Come along way from when Buck was always trying to push the kid behind him.
The ladies man looked around the room and gave a low whistle. Tables had been over turned, chairs smashed, and several men lay moaning on the floor. Remarkably the mirror had not been damaged, and surprisingly little glass was broken.
Buck shook his head. "Damn, boys, you shoulda waited for us."
"This little doe-see-doe wasn’t our idea, Buck." Chris glared at the now quiet, and immobile combatants. It pissed him off to see the amount of destruction they had left in their wake. Hard to believe all this was done in just a few minutes.
Glancing toward where Ezra lay silently on the floor. Chris winced. He expected the man to have moved by now. "Nate? He okay?"
The healer glanced up from where he knelt next to Ezra, pressing a handkerchief to the still bleeding scalp wound. "Should be. Will know more once he comes to." Nathan frowned. "I don’t want to pull that knife out until I got him in the clinic."
Chris nodded. He remembered, from his time in the army, wounds like that had a tendency to bleed profusely once the weapon was removed. Always a good idea ta have supplies on hand just in case. No reason for Ez to bleed anymore than he already has.
Chris’ eyes flickered from the ex-preacher to Ezra. "Josiah."
The big man holstered his weapon and moved forward. He laid a hand on Vin’s shoulder, silently asking the tracker move. Vin shifted, reluctantly making way for Josiah, and slowly relinquishing his contact with Ezra. Josiah crouched low, and with an astonishing amount of gentle care, tenderly gathered his friend into his arms. The big man was careful not to jostle the right shoulder. He rose smoothly to his feet, impressing Chris anew with how strong he was. Ez might be short, but he’s solid. Man’s got to be stronger than an ox to just lift him that way.
Nathan was already moving, pushing the door aside, and holding it open. Vin had risen to his feet as Josiah stood, ready to offer assistance should it be needed. His focus was now on Ezra’s face. The gambler looked decidedly pale.
"Vin, go with them." Chris ordered. He knew Vin had every intention of staying with Ezra, and he didn’t blame the tracker one bit for wanting to make sure his lover was going to be fine. By making it an order, no one would question Vin’s actions.
"Nate will probably need an extra man ta keep him in the clinic once he comes around." There. That should work as cover for having Vin go along too. Everyone in town knows how much Ezra hates being in the clinic. Hell, none of us like being there, but I think Ezra’s the worst of the bunch.
Josiah carried Ezra from the saloon, moving as if he holding something unbelievably fragile. Vin and Nathan were flanking him. With Ezra out of harm’s way, the rest of them were free to focus on the problem at hand. Like getting all these cowboys locked up.
Bantrim spoke up from where he lay on the floor, next to the bar. His right eye was swelling shut, and he sported a bloody lip as well. "What about him?" He asked, pointing toward Saxton.
Chris smiled nastily, eyes hard and unforgiving. "What ‘bout him?"
"Needs someone ta look at his hand."
"Closest thing to a doctor, in this town, is the ‘uppity nigger’ you didn’t want to drink with." Chris growled. "He ain’t good enough to be in YOUR saloon, doubt he’d be good enough to patch up your friend either. Or you suddenly change your mind ‘bout that?"
"No." Bantrim grimaced in distaste. "But he still needs tending to."
"Well, then I guess you better see to him." Chris stated, not giving an inch. "Cause no one else will."
When Bantrim moved suddenly, Chris stopped him with a small, warning wave of his gun. "Shuck your gun belt first. Nice and slow. Understand."
Bantrim nodded slowly, and unbuckled his gun belt carefully, letting it fall to the floor. "Good." Chris gave the rest of the combatants a hard look. "All of you…guns off. Nice and easy, or it will be the last thing ever you do. I guarantee it."
Cantrell cleared his throat, hesitantly getting Chris’ attention. "Tom’s arm is gonna need looked at. Don’t have a problem with Jackson taking care o’ it."
Chris nodded. Ranch hands on the Double T had good reason to respect Nathan’s ability as a healer, even if they might not necessarily like him. The former slave had saved their bosses life once, and had always been willing to treat whatever ailed them.
"Once he’s done with Standish, I’ll ask him to take care of your man."
Cantrell tipped his head in acknowledgement, apparently willing to accept that. Chris smiled tightly. Ain’t like he’s gonna get another option.
"Inez, if you would gather up their guns?" He considered asking Buck or JD but decided he’d rather have them keeping an eye on the cowboys. Wouldn’t put it passed them to be dumb enough to try something.
"Si, Senor." Inez made her way around the room collecting gunbelts, and placing them on the one table that remained up right. She kept her shotgun with her.
"Much obliged, Ma’am. We’ll be back for those once we get those once these sorry S-O-B’s settled in the jail."
Chris sent a glare around the room. "Ya got two choices…you get up and head for the jail in a quiet and orderly fashion. Or I shoot you and let the undertaker deal with your miserable hides."
He wasn’t the least bit surprised when they all opted to quietly get to their feet, some needing assistance from their friends, and shuffled meekly out the door, toward the jail.
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