Meanwhile a battle was raging between the other outlaws and Vin’s friends. All had heard MacFarlane’s shots and had headed towards them, resulting in inevitable confrontations as they closed in.
Josiah had been the first to make contact. He had heard a raised voice and had found Seth struggling to control Peso, who objecting to being led, had sunk his teeth into Seth’s horse’s neck. Recognising the troublesome stead, Josiah had called upon the man to surrender.
At first, the man had appeared to be about to comply, but with a price on his head for armed robbery and murder, the man had no intention of being taken alive. Suddenly he swung his gun up. Both fired simultaneously. Sanchez shot was true, taking the outlaw in the chest, but he took a bullet in the left arm in return.
As Seth fell, Ezra appeared and rode to the preacher’s aid. Moments later, JD joined them.
Further shots were heard. Sam and Dave had opted to make a run for it and met up with Chris, Buck and Nathan. Soon both outlaws were down injured and Jackson was hurriedly putting a bandage pad on his own creased shoulder, while Larabee and Wilmington bound the prisoners and got them on their horses. They then rode to join the others.
While Nathan busied himself with checking Josiah’s arm, Larabee turned to JD and Ezra. "You said there were five, didn’t ya?"
"We most certainly did. Regrettably the leader of this heinous gang is still at large."
The gunslinger swung round on the hapless prisoners. "Where’s Tanner?" he demanded, glowering at them.
"T-Tanner?" Sam questioned.
"Don’t play dumb with me! Where is he?"
"I don’t know no Tanner."
"Excuse me, Mr Larabee, allow me," Ezra said, intervening quickly lest the furious gunslinger shoot the man down where he stood. "Where is Mr Dunne?"
"The kid took off. He knifed Morgan and ran. We were looking for him."
"Well, ya’d better hope we find him alive and well or I promise ya that ya won’t make it back for a trial," Larabee warned ominously.
"Yer a lawman. Ya wouldn’t …"
"I deeply fear that you are labouring under quite an erroneous apprehension, as to the security that status might offer. In the extremely unlikely event that Mr Larabee does not shoot you, I can assure you that all of us will compete for the privilege of being the agent of your extermination," Standish observed.
The two outlaws exchanged nervous looks. Then Dave started, "If we help you will you…"
"Ya’ll help if ya want to have any chance of makin’ Four Corners alive," Larabee snapped.
The outlaw nodded resignedly and ventured, "I-I r-reckon MacFarlane’s found him. There were those three shots. We were supposed to fire three shots if we found him."
"I heard those. I was riding to find out who was firing when I met him," Josiah said, pointing at Seth’s body.
"I reckon that’s what we were all doin’," Buck said. "Sounded like somewhere south-west of here."
"Right, Josiah, ya stay here with these bastards. The rest of us will spread out and look."
Larabee rode in grim silence, desperation in his heart. What if Vin was dead? He could not bear the thought of Vin dying alone or in an enemy’s hands. The tracker had borne so much in his short life, he deserved better. Hell, he deserved to live and to be loved and cherished all his days. The trouble was Larabee was fast reaching the conclusion that he was not worthy to be the one who was privileged to be Vin’s lover.+ + + + + + +
It was Ezra who found Vin. He spotted MacFarlane’s horse and could see something on the ground beside it.
His heart in his mouth, he rode quickly towards it. As he neared the animal he could see it was two bodies and he shuddered as he saw the long, brown curls of the man beneath. He knew he should signal the others, but if Vin was dead he needed to be there first … alone. He feared it would be the one time that he would not only be unable to hide his emotions, but might well lose control over them altogether. His heart was beating wildly, hammering painfully against his breastbone, and he could feel himself starting to hyperventilate.
Fighting to control his emotion, he swung down from Chaucer and staggered on rubbery legs towards the pair. Then he reached down, and with a strength born of desperation, lifted MacFarlane’s body off Vin and flung it aside.
Tears welled in his eyes as he looked down at the body of the tracker. There was so much blood. Vin’s chest was covered with it.
Vin lay unmoving. Both his eyes were blackened and his face badly bruised and the rope around his neck ... Oh God, he could imagine how that would have spooked the tracker. Standish knelt down and placed a shaking hand on Vin’s cheek. Tears started to course down the gambler’s face, but he made no move to check them.
He had to get that damned rope off. Vin did not deserve to die with a rope around his neck. He saw Vin’s bloody knife lying on the ground and reached for it to sever the rope.
He started to lift Vin’s head and nearly fainted when the ‘corpse’ groaned. Elation rushed through the gambler. ‘He is alive! Vin’s alive! Oh thank God, he is alive,’ he thought light-headedly.
Vin moaned again.
That brought Standish back to his senses. Vin might be alive, but he would not be for long unless the gambler pulled himself together and tended his wounds.
"It is all right, Vin," he said reassuringly, although doubting that the tracker would hear him. "I am just removing the rope."
Task completed, he gently lowered Vin once more and hurried to get his canteen. He held his to the tracker’s lips.
He knew that he had to summon the others. He stood up, walked a little distance from the tracker and fired his revolver before hurrying back to his charge.
The shots had penetrated Vin’s unconsciousness, and he roused and murmured, "Ch-Chris?"
The gambler knelt down, seeing the unfocussed eyes, and stroked the tracker’s cheek. "It is Ezra, Vin."
"Where … what’s … where are …"
"It is all right, Vin. Just stay calm. Do not worry."
"B-But where … I don’t … Ch-Chris, I .., Chris …" He tried to struggle up.
Ezra gently held him down. "Shhh. Lie still. Everything is all right," he soothed. Then he bent forward and kissed Vin tenderly on the lips, in a move designed to comfort and reassure himself as much as Vin.
Vin raised a hand to caress Ezra’s face. "Love ya, Chris. Love ya and want ya. Always have, always will," he whispered and his eyes closed.
"Love you too," Ezra responded sincerely. He sat down and carefully lifted Vin’s head onto his lap. He sat there stroking the tangled curls and whispering words of love and reassurance to the insensate tracker.
He was so focussed on Vin, that the first he knew of the others’ approach was when JD shouted, "THERE THEY ARE!"
He sat watching their approach and got a malicious frisson of pleasure when he saw Larabee’s stricken face. "Is he …Is he …" the gunslinger started, finding himself unable to voice his greatest fear.
"No, Mr Tanner is alive. Most of the blood appears to have come from that loathsome creature," he said, gesturing towards MacFarlane’s corpse.
"Thank, God!"
"Amen to that, brother," Josiah added.
"Stand back and let me see him," Nathan ordered, hurrying forward with his bag of medical supplies in hand.
"Damn! Look at the state his back! Look what the bastards have done to him, Buck exclaimed, looking in commingled horror and anger at the painful weals and cuts crisscrossing Vin’s abused back.
Nathan carefully removed the dirt from Vin’s various wounds and then poured carbolic into them. The tracker whimpered at the pain, but did not wake. Then the healer set to work to stitch the gash in Vin’s side. That task done, he used what bandages he had to wrap Vin’s torso. "Josiah, have you got Vin’s shirt?" he asked.
"Yeah, here." The preacher, who had taken charge of all Vin’s possessions that they had found at the shack, went to hand it over.
However, Ezra intervened. "No, that is soiled. Put this on him," he said, presenting Jackson with his spare shirt from his saddlebags.
"Silk? Ya brought a silk shirt with ya on a hunt for outlaws?" Buck questioned disbelievingly.
"A gentleman is always prepared for all eventualities," Standish observed.
"Better wrap this round him too," Josiah said, proffering a blanket.
"Good idea. He’s very cold," Nathan replied.
That done, Nathan asked, "Has anyone got anything clean that I can wrap round his neck? That damned rope has made a mess of him."
"Take my handkerchief," Ezra said, handing over the pristine object.
"Hey, I knew there was some reason we keep ya around, Ezra," Buck announced. "Yer fancy duds do come in handy for somethin’ after all."
Larabee was standing back observing the scene. As he watched the gambler hand over his garments, he ruefully accepted that it was Ezra’s right to take central part in looking after Vin. Standish had constantly supported and cared for the tracker ever since Hudson’s attack. No matter his motives, and Larabee was in no doubt about Standish’s love for Vin for the gambler had not minced words on that score, the gunslinger had to admit that Ezra fully deserved to rank highly in Vin’s affections."
He could not help but contrast Ezra’s tender ministrations with his own angry reprimands and hard fists. No, if Vin wanted Ezra, he should be man enough to stand aside, no matter how such self-sacrifice shredded his heart. And he would. He was absolutely determined on that score.
Nathan’s voice broke in on his reverie. "Right, I’ve done all I can for him here. Let’s get him back to town. Who’s going to take him on his horse?"
The healer had asked the question, but had no doubt who it would be. The others held back also expecting Larabee to claim the right, but the gunslinger uncharacteristically stood back.
Ezra turned to look at him and read the guilt and sorrow in the green eyes. He bit back the urge to volunteer his services, regretfully relinquishing the chance to have Vin in his arms. He wanted to be the one to hold Vin, but he could not forget to whom Vin’s words of love had been directed. "A superfluous question, Mr Jackson," he observed. "We all know who Mr Tanner would choose if he were able to express a preference, which regrettably he is not." As he spoke he gestured towards the gunslinger.
Latrabee doubted the veracity of the statement, but nodded his assent.
"You’re right, Ezra," Jackson said. "You mount up, Chris, and Buck and I will pass him up to you."
Then the others mounted and they headed for town, Buck leading Pony to allow Chris to hold Vin more easily.
The tracker lay cradled against the gunslinger’s chest, with Larabee’s arms fast about him. The gunslinger did not understand why Ezra had given Vin into his care, especially as the gambler knew the full story of his ill treatment of the tracker, but he was grateful. He knew it would be the last chance he had to hold Vin in his arms. Every-so-often, he leant surreptitiously forward and brushed Vin’s curls with his lips, breathing in Vin’s scent and cursing himself for so foolishly throwing away his relationship with the tracker.
When they finally reached Four Corners, he handed Vin down to Buck and Nathan, who carried him up the steps to the clinic.
The gunslinger muttered something about tending to Pony and did not follow, nor did he call in later. Indeed, to the surprise of all but Ezra, he kept right away from the clinic. Normally, if Vin was sick or hurt, he settled in the clinic and was immovable, but for some reason he showed no interest in seeing Vin at all.
However, Ezra unexpectedly opted to spend all the time he could in the clinic and Nathan was grateful as he had several other patients to visit.
Three days dragged past. Vin’s body was slowly healing, but his heart was not, and the gambler watched sadly as Vin pined for Larabee. Not that Vin had said anything, but every time the clinic door opened, his eyes eagerly sought the longed for face, only to well up with unshed tears of unhappiness and disappointment when the arrival was shown to be someone else.
Finally, Standish could stand it no longer. Nathan had just gone on a house call, so the pair was alone in the clinic. He sat down on the side of Vin’s bed and said, "Vin, I think it is time we talked about what is bothering you."
"Nothin’s wrong, Ez. I just don’t like bein’ in the clinic."
"I think everybody who knows you is aware of your aversion for submitting to a medical regimen, but that is not the primary problem, is it, Vin?"
"Yes, it is! Well, sorta," Vin amended, unwillingly to lie to Ezra.
"No, Vin, it is Mr Larabee who is causing your upset, is it not?"
Vin nodded. "He hasn’t been to visit me."
"And why do you think that is?"
"He doesn’t love me any more," Vin said forlornly, looking so sad that it was all Ezra could do to stop himself wrapping his arms around him. Instead he took Vin’s hand.
"I am certain that sure he does, Vin," the gambler replied. "The problem is that he does not realise that you love him."
"But when he found me, I told him that I loved him."
"No, Vin, you told me."
"Huh?" Vin stared at him in confusion.
"Vin, I was the one that found you."
"B-But I th-thought Chris was there and that he said he loved me. I guess I musta dreamt that ‘cos it ain’t true."
"I feared you were dying, so when you mistook me for Mr Larabee I pretended to be him. I wanted your parting to be happy."
"Did ya … Did ya …"
"Did I what?"
Vin blushed. "Did ya … um … Did ya kiss me?"
"Yes."
"Th-Thank ya, Ez. That was kind of you," Vin said quietly.
"But you had rather it had been Mr Larabee."
Vin nodded, but then said, "I s’pose … I guess, p’raps it was a good thin’ that it wasn’t him. Since he doesn’t love me any more, it woulda just embarrassed him."
"Vin, I assure you that he does love you."
"No, Ez, ya don’t have to pretend. Iffen he loved me he’d be here. I know that." With that, the dam broke and tears began to roll down his cheeks as he sobbed brokenly, the strain of the previous few weeks finally becoming more than he could bear.
Throwing his good intentions aside, Ezra gathered him into his arms and held him close, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance. Finally, he said firmly, "Vin, I promise you Mr Larabee will be here, if I have to drag him up the clinic stairs myself. He will be here and he will tell you that he loves you."
Soon after that, the door opened and Nathan entered. He did a double take at the scene before him. However, the gambler did not turn a hair. "Mr Tanner is upset, Mr Jackson. I think perhaps a mild sedative might be in order."
Nathan nodded and reached for a sleeping draught. He had been all too aware that the tracker was overwrought and had not been sleeping well both because of that and because of the pain of his injuries. It could do Vin no harm to be out of it for a while.
He held the glass to Vin’s lips and waited for the inevitable protest, but the gambler simply said, "Drink this for me please, Vin", and amazingly the tracker obeyed.
Ezra waited until Vin was asleep and then eased him gently down onto the pillows.
"What’s going on, Ezra?" the healer demanded.
"I am about to fetch the medicine that our tracker needs most."
"What do you mean?"
"Mr Larabee, of course!"
"Good luck, Ezra," Nathan said, adding ‘Rather you than me’ under his breath.
Ezra strode purposefully down the street to the saloon. It was a well-known fact that Chris Larabee had a regrettable tendency to turn to the whisky bottle when aught was amiss.
He walked in and glanced around, but surprisingly the gunslinger was nowhere in evidence. Spotting Buck, he said." Are you perchance cognizant with Mr Larabee’s current whereabouts, Mr Wilmington?"
"I think he’s in his room, Ezra, but I wouldn’t go there if I was you. He’s been basically holed up in there ever since we got back to town and he’s a mite touchy. Hell, he just about bit my head off last time I tried to ferret him out."
"Thank you for the warning, Mr Wilmington, but I believe he will be pleased to see me."
Buck looked at him as if he had gone mad. "Ya ain’t fallen down Nate’s steps and landed on yer head, have ya?" he asked, only partly in jest. He knew that the gambler had an absolute genius for rubbing the gunslinger the wrong way at the best of times and this was definitely not the best of times.
"No, but I am ready to bounce him down those same steps, if it is the only way to restore him to his senses."
"Well, it has been nice knowin’ ya," Buck responded, watching the gambler head for the stairs.
Ezra reached Larabee’s door and rapped upon it. There was no reply. He knocked again.
"Go away!"
"I most certainly will not. Be so kind as to open this door at once, Mr Larabee, or I may be obliged to damage a particularly expensive pair of boots kicking it in."
The door swung open and a dishevelled, but sober gunslinger stood there scowling at Ezra. "I hope ya didn’t say what I think ya did," Larabee said, fingering his gun butt.
"I certainly did. Now step aside. I have come to speak to you on a matter of no small importance." With that he bustled past the stunned gunman and headed for the easy chair in the corner of the room.
Larabee slammed the door shut and turned to face him, wearing his most intimidating glare. "Well, what is it?" he demanded.
"It is Mr Tanner," Ezra intoned sombrely.
Larabee froze. "What is it? Has somethin’ happened to him? What’s wrong?"
"Do you really care?"
"Of course, I do!"
"I would have thought, if that were the case, that you might have chosen to visit the clinic to ascertain his the state of his health and general well-being."
"Look, Standish, I don’t want to fight with you. I appreciate all you have done for Vin, and although I can’t say that I am happy to lose him, I accept that it is his choice and will respect it."
Ezra frowned in seeming bemusement. He had been right, but it was not the time to crow about it, and since it entailed abandoning any hope that Vin might one day turn to him, he did not feel like doing so anyway. "I fear that I cannot quite comprehend your meaning," he lied. "All I know is that Mr Tanner is lying unhappily in that clinic, having decided that you no longer love him."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"I don’t know what yer game is Ezra, but I know that ain’t true. Vin doesn’t want me. Of course, I hoped he might come back to me, but … but I … well, I guess I don’t deserve him."
"He won’t come back to you, Mr Larabee, because he has never left you. Even that day, he came to town to collect his things after you had used your fists on him, he told me he still loved you."
"Maybe, but time’s passed and he still hasn’t .. he hasn’t … Look, Ezra, after I got back from killing Masters, Vin said that maybe we should try bein’ friends for a while and I thought that meant that he would … that he would eventually … but he hasn’t. We’re as far apart as ever and I guess that ain’t goin’ to change. No, if Vin wants ya, I’ll accept it"
"Mr Larabee, I am pleased to hear that you are now prepared to put Vin’s interests before your own. That is the kind of selfless love he deserves. I trust that I am able to behave in the same vein. I want to tell you what Vin said when I found him. He told me he loved me and wanted me, that he always had and always would."
"Ezra, I’d rather not hear this."
"But you need to. You see, he called me ‘Chris’ and I thought he was dying so I pretended to be you and said that I loved him."
"He said he wanted me?" Larabee questioned in disbelief.
"Yes and so when you neglected to come to the clinic that convinced him that you no longer returned the sentiment. I have explained to him, that it was me he told and that you were unaware of his feelings, but unfortunately was unable to convince him that his love is reciprocated."
"Ezra, I stayed away from the clinic because, when I saw him lying in your arms, I thought about all you have done for him and realized that I had no right to interfere if Vin wanted you. You don’t know how many times I’ve walked to those clinic steps in the last few days, only to tell myself to put Vin first and keep away."
"Well, Mr Larabee, may I suggest you go back to those steps once more and this time climb the damned things."
"Thank ya, Ezra. Even if it doesn’t work out between me and Vin, I appreciate you tellin’ me what ya have."
The pair descended the stairs. Larabee hurried out the door and Ezra sat down heavily in his favourite chair. Buck wandered over, carrying a whisky bottle. "Have a drink, Ezra," he said. "I dunno what ya said to him, but ya did good. He looks better’n he has in days. Where’s he off to?"
Ezra took the proffered glass. "Thank you. I believe he is proposing a short visit to Nathan’s clinic to check on the progress of Mr Tanner."
Buck beamed. "Even better!" he exclaimed happily. "Once he’s got that scrawny tracker back between his sheets maybe thin’s can get back to normal around here."
"I hope so, Mr Wilmington, I sincerely hope so."
Meanwhile, Chris had rushed two at a time up the clinic’s steps and been ushered in by the healer.
"Afternoon, Chris," Nathan greeted. "I’m sorry, but Vin isn’t going to be much company for a few hours. He hasn’t been sleeping well and got himself a bit upsetg over something, so I’ve given him a sleeping draught."
"It don’t matter, Nate. I’ll wait. I’m sure you could do with the break."
"Thanks, Chris. It’ll give me a chance to rise out to the Broughs’ ranch to see how their two kids with chickenpox are progressing."
Chris Larabee sat looking down at the sleeping tracker. Russet curls were tumbling in riotous confusion around the beautiful pale face and over Vin’s creamy shoulders. How Larabee longed to touch him!
He had been sitting there for some hours, going over all that had happened. He was so ashamed at the way he had treated Vin. He could not credit how he could have been so stupid. As long as the tracker was alive and well that was all that mattered. He could live with out Vin’s love as long as he had his friendship. That was enough. Hell, he did not deserve such a gift.
That moment he had seen the blood-covered form lying in Standish’s arms, he had felt as if his heart had turned to stone. He had known that if Vin was dead, then his life was over too.
If Vin wanted Ezra, Joey Connors or even Buck Wilmington, Larabee would accept it, if only he was all right. Sure the gambler had told him what Vin had said, but he did not believe it … dared not believe it.
Again, he pictured that still form and thought how near Vin had come to death, for he had no doubt that MacFarlane had planned to kill him once he had his brother back. It had been such a close thing. Tears began to trickle down his face, falling onto the silent tracker.
One landed on an eyelid and Vin blinked and his eyes fluttered open. Lost in his frightful thoughts, Larabee did not notice and the tracker lay motionless, peeking through his thick lashes and observing him with considerable surprise. He had thought that Larabee was not interested in him any more, even as a friend, and yet here he was and he was behaving most uncharacteristically. Vin wondered if he was dreaming, but the tears that kept falling on his face seemed all too real. Finally, he ventured to speak. "C-Cowboy? Yer cryin’," Vin rasped wonderingly, raising a hand to touch the tear trickling down Larabee’s cheek.
"I ain’t! I don’t …" Larabee started hurriedly and then conceded, "Well, maybe I was. I-I was thinkin’ how close ya came to dyin’."
"I thought I was goin’ to. I love ya so much, cowboy. All I could think was that I didn’t want to die without ya knowin’ that. I’d like to ... to be back together with ya ... iffen ya still want me," he added, his blue eyes wary. He was clearly fearful of Larabee’s reaction.
"If? Hell, cowboy, I’d like nothin’ better!" Larabee said, wrapping his arms around the tracker. Standish had been right. Thank God the gambler had insisted he come. He regretted every unkind thought he had had about or comment he had made to Ezra.
Vin’s azure eyes gathered sudden brilliance, shining with love, and his mouth curved into a dazzling smile. He opened his arms and pulled Larabee against him.
After that, Nathan found he had Larabee back as almost a permanent feature in the clinic. Although he complained about gunslingers cluttering up the place, he was pleased to see the sparkle back in Vin’s eyes. He was certain that Vin would now start to heal quickly or, at least, to claim that he had done so, in order to be permitted rejoin the man who was central to his existence.
Indeed, only two days later, Vin was sure he was well enough to leave.
"Chris, can’t ya help me back to my wagon?" Vin pleaded. "Nate says I ain’t allowed to walk for another week so as to let the swellin’ in my knee go down, but I cain’t stay here that long, I just cain’t."
"I know ya don’t like it here, but Nate’s doin’ the best he can for ya."
"But he could call at my wagon iffen he wanted to try to make me take some more horse piss."
"He’d never allow it, Vin. Hell, I wouldn’t either."
"But ya could visit me there."
"I can visit ya here."
"But nobody else’s likely to walk in on us there."
"Walk in on us?" Larabee echoed questioningly. Then he grinned as the penny dropped, "Ya are feelin’ better, ain’t ya?"
"Well, I’d sure like to be feelin’ somethin’," Vin replied audaciously, snaking out a hand to stroke Larabee’s thigh.
Chris captured the hand. "Not here, Vin, someone might …"
"Walk in on us," Vin finished, adding, "I rest my case as the judge would say."
"Okay, I get the point, but it’ll have to be my room. Nate’ll likely kick up a stink anyway, but if I let ya go to yer wagon, I reckon there’d be arguin’ with him. He’d be there tossin’ ya over his shoulder and carryin’ ya back here faster’n ya could scoff one of Nettie’s pies."
"Yer room’ll be just fine," Vin replied, smiling triumphantly.
Seeing the expression, Larabee realised that he had been had. "Ya damned little weasel. Ya meant me to take ya there all along, didn’t ya? Ya’ve been spendin’ too much time with that sneaky gambler."
"Nothin’ wrong with that. I learn lots of thin’s from Ez," Vin responded provocatively.
Chris bit his tongue. He knew that Standish wanted Vin. The man had told him so himself. However, he also knew that Vin was unaware of the gambler’s feelings. Certainly the tracker would never have made such an ambiguous statement had he had any inkling of Standish’s feelings for him. Opting to change the subject, Chris said, "Anyway I don’t know if I can carry ya down the clinic’s steps."
"Getting’ weak in yer old age, cowboy?" Vin challenged.
"Nope, but it’s damned awkward with that leg of yers. It took both Buck and Nathan to carry ya up."
"But ya’ll try, won’t ya? Please, Chris," Vin begged.
"Okay, but if I drop ya on yer scrawny arse it’s yer look out. C’mon, sit up and we’ll get ya dressed."
"Just hand me my thin’s. I can dress myself." As he spoke, he peeled off the hated nightdress that Nathan had insisted he wear. Not that Vin would have gone naked, he was too shy for that, but he could not understand what was wrong with sleeping in his clothes like he always did in his wagon. For some reason, Nate was always picky over things like that.
"Oh, really?" Larabee’s voice was disbelieving and it made Vin even more determined.
"Yeah!"
That was a good theory. Undershirt and shirt were fine, but when it came to his drawers it was hopeless, as he could not bend the still badly swollen knee and so could not pull them over his feet. He struggled, twisted and cursed and went red with embarrassment.
Larabee stood back enjoying the show. Finally he asked, "Ya need a bit of help there, cowboy?"
Vin glared at him, stuck his lower lip out in a pout, and started to pull the covers back over himself.
"All right, Vin, just let me," Larabee grinning at the tracker’s sulky expression. He peeled back the bedclothes and seized the offending garment. In the event, he also had to help Vin don trousers, socks and boots.
Finally, he stood up. "It’s a damn sight easier takin’ yer clothes off than dressin’ ya," he proclaimed. "I hope to hell carryin’ ya is easier."
It was not, although at first things appeared to be all right. Larabee put an arm under Vin’s knees and one round his shoulders and hoisted him into his arms. The tracker was surprisingly light and the gunslinger had no doubt he could carry him for some distance. However, when he reached the steps, he realized he was going to have to go down sideways down as Vin’s stiff leg meant they were too wide to negotiate the stairs any other way. Chris was only about a third of the way down the steps when he realised that his joke about dropping Vin was all too likely to become a sickening reality. Unbalanced, he started to sway, but with his arms full of tracker, he could not grab the rail to steady himself.
Realizing what was happening, Vin said urgently, "Let me go, cowboy."
Don’t be ridiculous! Of course, I can’t."
"Ya have to!" Vin insisted. "No sense both of us fallin’." He tried to wriggle free and Chris held tighter, teetering on the edge of a step and cursing him roundly.
Just then, to the relief of both, they heard a shout, "HOLD ON, BROTHERS!" Josiah had been on his way to visit the clinic and had seen their plight. In moments he was clattering up the stairs and relieving Larabee of his burden.
He carried the tracker safely down to the street and then turned to Chris. "Where are you taking him?" he asked.
Larabee hesitated. He knew Josiah had sincerely regretted his initial, violent reaction to Vin’s relationship with him, but still wondered how the preacher would take the news that he was currently assisting, albeit in ignorance, the tracker’s return to Larabee’s bed. However, he decided to tell the truth. At worst, he imagined the preacher would abandon him to carry Vin the rest of the way. "My room," he said firmly.
"You have reconciled your differences?"
"Yes."
Sanchez smiled, "I am pleased for you both," he said sincerely.
"I can take him now," Larabee said, reaching for Vin.
"No need, brother, I’ve got him. Lead the way."
Josiah delivered Vin safely to Chris’ room, placed him on the bed and then departed.
Chris helped Vin undress and then sat down on the bed, pulling the naked tracker into his arms. "Missed ya, cowboy," he whispered, nuzzling Vin’s neck.
"Well, that’s more like it," a voice said approvingly.
Caught completely off-guard, Vin started and tried to pull away, but Larabee had immediately recognised the voice. The gunslinger tightened his hold on the tracker, and without turning, said, "Damn ya, Buck, ain’t ya heard of knockin’?"
"Yep, but it ain’t nearly as much fun as just walkin’ in," the scoundrel replied irrepressibly, grinning broadly. He turned back and called down the stairs, "Found them, Nate!"
Moments later, the healer hurried in. "I thought I told you that you were to stay off that leg, Vin," he scolded. "Those stairs won’t have done you any good. Frankly I’m surprised you managed them."
"Don’t worry, Nate, I’ll see he stays in bed now … one way or another," Larabee promised.
"Atta boy, stud!" Buck enthused. His friends were back together and he could not have been happier. "Would ya like old Uncle Buck to give ya some suggestions for doin’ that?" he questioned cheekily.
"I reckon we can manage," Larabee replied smiling. "I reckon we’ve got thin’s sorted out between us now."
"But I could …"
"You could get yerself into all sorts of trouble. Take him away with ya, Nate," Chris said.
"Okay," Jackson replied, grabbing Buck’s arm and steering him towards the door. Then he turned back. "Take care of him, Chris."
"Never doubt it."
The door closed. The two were finally alone.
The tracker immediately turned to the gunslinger, "Take me, Chris, please," Vin urged. "l’s been longin’ for ya."
Larabee hesitated. He wanted so much to show Vin that he was going to treat him better, that he was not going to try to dominate him. He had given lots of thought to this moment and had decided what he should say. However, good intentions aside, in all honesty he knew he was not ready for it and possibly never would be. Still, he had to try. "N-No, I-I reckon ... I think ... I think it’s yer turn, Vin," he managed.
"Huh?" Vin blurted, caught off-guard by the suggestion.
"I want ya to take me," Larabee lied.
However, nobody could read Chris like Vin Tanner. "No, Chris, ya ain’t ready for me to do that … and neither am I," he added to forestall any protest Chris might have felt obliged to make. "But thank ya for the thought. Ya makin’ the offer is important to me, real important, but I’d rather we just do what we’re both comfortable with, iffen ya don’t mind." Then, without waiting for a response, Vin quickly rolled over onto his stomach.
Chris carefully released a breath he had not known he was holding. He felt incredibly relieved and yet … and yet … He would definitely have to give more thought to the matter, but not now, not while Vin was spread waiting for him.
Opening his fly, he positioned himself between Vin’s slender thighs and then looked lovingly at the tracker. His eyes were immediately drawn to the scar the running iron had left on Vin’s shoulder. He put his lips to it. He could not help but see a parallel between the rough brand and his own despicable behaviour when he tried to use his fists to control Vin. Every time he saw that mark he would remember and he deserved to do so. "I’m so sorry for everything, Vin," he murmured.
Vin twisted awkwardly around to gaze into the anguished green eyes. To his amazement he saw another tear trickle down the gunslinger’s face. Larabee crying was something he could not handle. He raised a gentle hand and stroked it away. "Don’t matter, Chris, it’s past. I’m back in yer arms where I belong and I reckon thin’s are goin’ to be right between us from now on. Just love me, cowboy," he whispered. As he spoke, he slipped his hand behind Larabee’s head to draw him down into a gentle kiss. "Just love me," he repeated and then added with a grin, "and hurry it up, ‘cos I’m getting’ cold here and I’ll start without ya in a minute." As he spoke, he shoved a hand provocatively beneath him.
"No, ya don’t, Tanner," Larabee responded, catching the offending limb and placing it firmly on the bed, "that’s my job."
"Good, just so long as ya know what I expect."
"There’s no doubt about that now, my love," Larabee responded, kissing him tenderly before reaching for the oil.
The End
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