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Palomino
by Cattraine
Notes: Follows Grulla, but can be read separately.
The 'a-ha' moment came for Buck the afternoon Chris and Vin bought the palomino mare. Like the others he had noticed that Chris and Vin were spending more time together, had been since Larabee had casually announced that he and Vin were gonna try their hand at raising horses. Buck had been pleased. It looked like Chris was starting to put his shattered life back together again, settling down from the nomadic lifestyle of a gunslinger.He had been expecting Chris to start courting Mary Travis in earnest, willing to have a family again, since he showed such definite signs of settling in on his small spread outside of Four Corners. He and Vin had enlarged both the cabin and the corral and bought several promising mares. Both Buck and Mary had been baffled when Larabee seemingly lost all interest in the comely young widow.
He still spent time with Billy, taking the little boy fishing now and then, but he stopped taking supper with Mary and squiring her around town. When she had asked for an escort to Ridge City for business, Larabee had arranged for Ezra and Josiah to accompany her, declining the opportunity to do so himself. That was the first clue that had set a puzzled Buck to pondering.
When he had tentatively questioned the gunslinger, Larabee had coldly told him to mind his own business, that he wasn't interested in being roped in by a husband-hunting widow, and that if Buck was so interested he should just court the woman himself. THAT had shut Buck up, but fired his curiosity. After all, Mary was a beautiful woman, and in Wilmington's mind a good match for Larabee, her sheer stubbornness more than a match for Chris' evil temper.
So, he sat outside the saloon with a cup of coffee and watched Tanner and Larabee dicker with a passing horse trader outside the livery. The object of their interest was a big palomino mare, whose golden coat shone like new money. He blew on his coffee and watched idly as Larabee examined the mare's legs and hooves, while Vin stroked her jaw, looked at her teeth and spoke gently to her.
Finally, Vin swung easily up on the mare's bare back and rode her in a circle while Larabee checked out her paces. Then it happened, and everything clicked into place for Buck. Tanner pulled the mare up beside Larabee, and said something to him with a lopsided grin, while Chris looked up at him and smiled. Buck felt a surprised breath hiss through his teeth. He had only seen Chris gift that particular smile to one other person and she had laid in her grave for five years now.
The shock caused the big ladies' man to thump his chair down on all four legs as he nearly choked on a gulp of coffee. He wiped his chin and scowled. No way in hell. He had to be wrong. He sat back in his chair and brooded, eyes on his two friends across the way. As he watched, Chris handed the trader a small wad of bills, they shook hands and Larabee and Tanner mounted their horses and headed out of town, with the mare trotting behind on a lead rope.
As they passed The Clarion, Mary stepped out, pretty as a picture in a new blue dress. Buck watched as the two barely acknowledged the young widow with polite tips of their hats, intent on their conversation; Chris' eyes on Vin's laughing face, a fond smile on his face.
Mary watched them as they rode out of town, a dejected look on her face. Shoulders slumped, she stepped slowly back inside the newspaper office. Wilmington sat back in his chair and thought hard. He wasn't quite sure he knew how to deal with this. Maybe he was just reading the signs wrong. Hell, he wasn't sure what to think. He decided to wait, watch and reserve judgement.
7 7 7 7 7 7 7
Chris Larabee squatted by the iron stove, and carefully dug the clay pot from under the hot coals. He swore fluently when the rag he was using as a pot holder slipped as he was transfering the hot pot to the table, and he burned his thumb. Glaring at the offending dish, he stuck the blistered digit in his mouth. A soft snicker from the open door caused him to narrow green eyes at his partner.
"You're the one who wanted quail for supper."
"Could have just spitted 'em."
"Naw, this way we got some work done while they cooked themselves."
Vin watched admiringly as Chris lifted the lid, and sniffed happily as the aroma of the fragrant dish filled the cabin. Larabee had tucked the small birds in a nest of seasoned sliced onions, potatoes and wild rice in the clay pot, then left it to cook under the hot coals for most of the afternoon.
"Damn, Chris. That sure does smell good. Where did ya learn ta do that?"
"Sarah," Larabee answered briefly.
"Oh..." He shifted uneasily.
Larabee gave him small smile.
"It's alright. Why don't you grab the plates?"
He turned back to the stove to fetch the coffee pot. Silence settled easily on them as they ate their meal. They had worked hard on the corral that afternoon, and it would have to be enlarged again before they bought more horses. Besides Peso and Pony, they now had four mares and two weanling colts to provide for.
They ate their quail down to the tiny bones and belched appreciatively. Larabee stood and dropped the tin plates in a tub of soapy water by the washstand to soak, while Tanner carried the scraps outside and disposed of them. He suspected Vin of feeding a juvenile raccoon, but said nothing. He figured the night Tanner woke up and found the little masked bandit going through his saddlebags would be lesson enough.
He stretched his lanky body, and settled in a chair on the porch with a cheroot and a cup of coffee. He gave a contented sigh, and stretched his long legs out and crossed his ankles as he watched the sun set. Vin meandered back up from the corral and gave him a smile.
"She's settling in real nice, Chris. No trouble at all. Even Belle likes her."
The cranky Belle was the self-styled boss mare of their small herd. Even Peso walked softly around the tall bay mare. Their sweet-natured new palomino had settled contentedly in with the others. Pony seemed especially taken with her, and they had amiable grooming sessions together, nibbling each others' necks and withers.
Vin sat down on the porch at Chris' feet, back against the post, arms around his knees. The setting sun haloed his profile and curly head with golden light, and Chris sat quietly and just admired. He hid a smile with his coffee cup, remembering his first sight of Vin-- a scrawny, pretty boy with wide blue eyes, in a blindingly white apron awkwardly clutching a broom.
Vin would shoot him if he ever told him just how pretty he thought he was. Still, it was tempting, just to see how many blushes he could wring out of Tanner. It amused him that a man as tough as rawhide could still blush at a word or touch. That sheer bashfulness was something that aroused Larabee faster than any skilled sporting girl.
He took a last draw, then tossed his cheroot away and set his coffee cup aside. The urge to touch was too strong. It was as bad as being a newlywed. Vin gave him a questioning look, as Chris gave him a slow leer. Larabee patted his knees, encouragingly.
"Why don't you come up here for a minute?"
Tanner's eyes widened, then narrowed. He arched a brow and gave Chris his best innocent look.
"Now why would I want ta do that? I'm a mite old to be sitting on a feller's lap."
Larabee grin just broadened, and Tanner felt a sweet surge of heat rocket through his loins at the hungry look on Chris' face. No one had ever looked at him like that, with such ardor and longing. No one had ever loved him like Chris. He could no more refuse the man than he could fly. Slowly, he stood and came over to Larabee, wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs.
Larabee reached out and gently coaxed the younger man down astride his thighs. He then tilted the flushed face down so he could brush his mouth across Vin's, wrapped an arm around Tanner's waist, and slid his other hand behind Vin's head, pulling him in close as took his mouth in a deep kiss. Vin moaned, and clutched at Larabee's shoulders with both hands.
They sat quietly and exchanged lazy kisses for some time. Chris held Vin close, nibbling gently at the lush lower lip. The sun was down and it was dark now, they could hear the crickets and whippoorwills chirping and calling. The only other sound was their contented sighs, and the wet smack of lip against lip as they kissed and affectionately nuzzled. Vin had both arms twined around Larabee's neck now, and the gunslinger was gently kneading his ass.
Finally, reluctantly, Chris tore his mouth away from Vin's and cupped the square jaw with a loving hand. His breath hissed between his teeth as Vin turned his head and caught Larabee's blistered thumb between his lips and suckled wetly. Chris groaned at that sweet, wet heat. Vin released the thumb and began to plant tiny kisses across the broad calloused palm. Larabee cupped his face in both big hands and gave him one last, deep kiss.
"Come inside with me?"
He always asked. He never tried to coerce him. He had never questioned, but the numerous scars on Vin's torso spoke of others who had tried worse. Chris had vowed to himself
never to take Vin for granted. They lived with the possibility of death every day of their lives. In his own way, he wanted their simple home to be a safe refuge for Vin.
He hugged Vin close, remembering the young man's stammered confession their first night together here, that this was the first real home he had since his grandpa died. Chris had been appalled that Vin had had so little in his young life, yet pleased to be the one he chose to make a home with. He wished sometimes he could shout to the world that Vin was his, not keep it hidden away like some dark, dirty secret.
Larabee knew better though. Folk minded their own business, unless it was rubbed in their faces. There were few enough white women in the territory that no one thought anything of two men living together, working a ranch. As long as they had no cause to think anything was untoward, they would pay it no mind. Still, they were cautious. If they were found to be intimate, the least they could expect was to be run out of town with a tarring and feathering, the worst a lynching.
Vin slid off of Chris' lap and stood shakily as Chris joined him and slid a arm around his waist to urge him inside. The first addition to the cabin had been a small back room with a larger bed, screened off from the other room by a curtain. The thick straw tick was layered with a thinner feather bed and two plump down pillows.
Vin was apt to joke about Larabee's old bones sinking in all that softness, and having to be hauled out with a rope. Chris didn't mind as long as the younger man agreed to curl up in it next to him. They still slept apart when in town. The boarding house had paper thin walls, and it was just too damned risky. The landlady made it her business to know what her tenants were up to.
Chris closed the door behind them, and slid the bolt home.
Later, they lay curled close together on their sides, Chris's lean body spooned around Vin under the quilt. Vin was deeply asleep, a soft purring snore muffled against the pillow of Chris' biceps. Chris lay awake in the dark, gently stroking his free hand through Vin's hair. His thick, soft cock was tucked snugly between the damp heat of Vin's thighs, one long leg thrown carelessly over Vin's.
The bouts of insomnia came less frequently now. He no longer felt the need to seek oblivion in the bottom of a bottle, and was content to lie quietly in the dark and listen to Vin breathe, to hold him and nuzzle into the thick, curly hair until sleep covered him as well. He had never imagined that he would find such sweet contentment again in his lifetime, and he cherished it.
He pressed a soft kiss to one wide shoulder, and slid his arm around Vin's waist, pressing himself close. Tanner mumbled softly and still asleep, curled one hand around Chris' forearm, pulling it tight against his chest, holding on. Larabee smiled in the darkness and pressed another kiss to Vin's shoulder.
He knew if he ever lost Vin, the darkness would swallow him whole.
7 7 7 7 7 7 7
It was hard to run, cuss, and reload at the same time, but somehow Buck managed it as he dove for cover behind a water trough. He grunted as he nearly landed in Josiah's lap. The big preacher steadied him with one hand and calmly shot a bandito between the eyes with the other. The air was thick with smoke and dust, and noisy as hell with all the gunfire and panicked horses.
Wilmington grunted and winced at the burning sting in his backside. Some evil son of a bitch had managed to graze his left ass cheek. Buck made a mental note NOT to tell Nathan he was shot. No way in hell did he want Nate and his trusty bottle of carbolic acid anywhere near the crack of his ass. Sanchez gave him a wide, toothy grin.
"Afternoon, brother."
Buck snorted and finished reloading his colt. It unnerved him when 'Siah grinned like that. Sort of like an overly friendly lion. Of course, the fact that it unnerved the bad guys too, was always a plus.
"You seen JD?"
"Holed up in the saloon with Inez and Ezra."
"Good."
Whatever Ez might miss, Inez would hit with that damned scatter gun of hers. The kid was in as safe a spot as he could be in the middle of a gunfight. Buck ducked as a bullet splintered the corner of his trough. What on earth made men so goddamned stupid as to try and rob the damned bank in the middle of the day, in broad daylight? Hell, the idiots hadn't even been trying to be subtle, just rode into town and made a beeline for the bank.
Vin had taken one look as they rode in at the far end of town, picked up his rifle, and headed for the roof of Watson's Hardware, seeking the advantage of high ground. Chris had placed thumb and forefinger in his mouth and given a sharp warning whistle that had the rest of the seven reaching for their guns and taking positions. Maybe the gang had thought they had safety in numbers. They were wrong. Of the fifteen they had been when they rode in, they were now down nine, with three wounded.
Both Vin and Nathan had the advantage of high ground, Nathan from the balcony of the clinic, and Vin from the roof. Tanner had dropped men as steadily as tin cans off a rail fence. Unlike Nate, he shot to kill, not wound. Larabee was in Mrs. Potter's store, his deadly aim taking a toll as well. Everything was going fine, and the remaining mobile members of the gang were turning tail and running when things took a sharp turn towards the devil.
Out of the corner of his eye, Buck saw Mary Travis at the open door of the Clarion, eyes wide with excitement. He swore softly as the fool woman endangered herself with her own curiosity. He yelled a warning at her to get back inside before she got her head blown off. One of the retreating banditos saw her too, and the prime opportunity for a human shield.
Grinning madly through a huge, bushy black beard, he lunged over and grabbed her around the waist, dragging the struggling woman towards his horse. Larabee broke cover and ran to cut them off. Buck heard Vin yell something and saw him kneel up on the roof across the street, aiming and firing steadily as he did.
The first bullet took out the man who was aiming at Chris' back, the second splattered the would-be kidnapper's brains all over Mary's new dress, and the third and forth had the other bandits throwing down their guns, and throwing up their hands. All in all, as the dust settled and the smoke cleared, it appeared at first as though everyone had come through unscathed, except for Buck's behind.
Nathan was checking the dead and wounded, while JD and Josiah cuffed the few dazed surviving members of the would-be robbers to haul them off to the jail. Ezra was cursing a blue streak because he had dust all over his brand new green velvet jacket. Larabee, after ascertaining that Mary was uninjured, had handed the shocked, blood splattered woman off to Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Watson.
Buck, trying not to limp and attract Nate's eagle eye, met him in the street and slapped him jovially on the shoulder, glad his oldest friend was uninjured. Larabee nodded curtly, keen eyes sweeping over the street, insuring that everything was under control before he reholstered his colt. Some cowhands and townsfolk finally ventured out of safety to give them a hand clearing the street of both live and dead bandits.
Suddenly, the gunslinger froze, his eyes searching the roof of Watson's Hardware. Buck watched as Chris' face blanched as white as milk, and he gave a choked curse as he ran for the alley and the ladder propped there. Wilmington tilted his head up, and swore viciously. Vin Tanner's limp hand was dangling off the edge of the roof.
Buck yelled for Nathan and followed Larabee.
7 7 7 7 7 7 7
What they found on the roof scared the hell out of them. Vin lay still, sprawled on his back, his head in a pool of dark blood that was slowly eddying down the slope of the roof. His face was pale and still, and he looked all of sixteen years old and just as defenseless. Larabee knelt by his side and felt for the pulse in his throat with a shaking hand. Buck clamped a comforting hand on Chris' shoulder and squeezed tight.
"He's still alive."
Larabee's voice was a calm contrast to his pale face and trembling hands.
They both shuffled aside to allow Nate access to Tanner. The black healer examined the sharpshooter with gentle hands, carefully checking the position of his neck and spine before tilting the curly head to one side to check the wound. The breath hissed through Nathan's teeth, and Buck swore when they saw the small round hole and the glint of metal in Vin's temple.
By all appearances, Vin had a bullet in his skull. Nathan raised one big hand and pinched the bridge of his nose hard. Sweet Jesus. He raised his head and looked into Larabee's white face. The gunslinger stared back mutely, afraid to ask. The healer looked Chris calmly in the eye.
"I don't know yet, Chris. We got to get him down and to the clinic so I can try and take it out. I ain't gonna lie to ya. That's a bad spot to be hit. I seen more than one man die from just a blow to the temple."
Larabee nodded mutely, eyes on Vin's still face. He ran a hand through his blond hair, pushing it back out of his eyes. He turned to Buck.
"We need a board to carry him on, and Josiah to help lift him down."
Buck nodded and went to fetch both. As he headed down the ladder he found himself praying that Vin would be okay. It no longer mattered to Wilmington if he and Chris were intimate or not. He just needed Vin to live. If he didn't, Buck sensed he would lose his oldest friend as well.
Inside the clinic, they laid Vin gently out on the sturdy oak table. Nathan bustled around, putting his supplies together. JD came puffing up the stairs lugging a pail of hot water from the bathhouse, and Jackson nodded an absent thanks as he laid out his surgical instruments. In a way, he was glad Vin was unconscious. He didn't want to risk ether or laudanum with a severe head injury, Vin might never wake if he used either.
He knew better than to ask Larabee to leave. The man was a silent wraith, glued to Tanner's side, one hand curled around his wrist as though to anchor him in this world. Nate washed his hands, and again carefully adjusted Vin's head, cushioning his head and neck on rolls of cloth. He checked his skull for any other lumps or contusions and cleaned the small wound carefully, dabbing gently with a damp sterilized cloth, noting as he did that it was no longer bleeding.
As he delicately probed the small wound, he gave a startled exclamation. He bent close for a better look, aware of a pair of demanding hazel eyes suddenly riveted on him. Larabee remained silent, but Josiah rumbled the question.
"What is it brother?"
Nathan held up his forceps in answer, displaying the shard of metal he had removed from Vin's head.
"It didn't penetrate his skull and it's not the whole bullet. Looks like Vin was hit by a ricochet."
"Praise the Lord."
Nathan held up one hand, suddenly, horribly aware of the burning hope in Larabee's eyes.
"Not yet, Josiah. We got to wait and see if he wakes up before we do that."
He cleaned the small wound, and put in three tiny, neat stitches before bandaging it. All the time, he refused to meet Larabee's eyes, aware of the man's hand holding one of Vin's tight.
"Nathan?"
"I don't know Chris. Best we can hope for, he wakes up with a hell of a headache."
"And the worst?"
Nathan finally raised his eyes, hating like hell to kill the fragile hope in the other man's face.
"He might not wake up at all. The temple is one of the worst places you can get hit in the head, the bone is real thin there."
7 7 7 7 7 7 7
It was noon the following day when Larabee finally took a break from Vin's bedside. He stumbled wearily down the clinic stairs, rubbing his red eyes. Josiah was sitting with Vin, so he figured he would take a few minutes and visit the privy, then grab a plate of food from Inez to carry back up with him. As he strode down the boardwalk towards the saloon, he heard Mary Travis call his name.
He glanced across the street as the woman came fluttering out of the newspaper office, skirts held daintily up out of the dust as she crossed the street. She was clad in one of her expensive dresses, hair tied back with ribbon like that of a young girl. He watched her approach, feeling a growing surge of resentment. Vin had taken a bullet protecting her, and she pranced around dressed as though she was attending a tea party, instead of living in a dusty frontier town.
"Mr. Larabee...Chris...I was wondering how Vin was."
He kept walking, not breaking stride as she trotted to keep up.
"Still unconscious." he answered curtly.
"Will he recover?"
She asked anxiously, one slim hand clutching his arm. He huffed out a breath and briskly shook off her touch, ignoring the flash of hurt in her eyes.
"We don't know yet."
"Please, if there's anything at all that I can do..."
He closed his eyes and stopped in his tracks, feeling all the fear and rage he had thus far successfully contained rise to the surface like a tidal wave as he lost his temper. Vin could die, and this prim, holier-than-thou woman would live because Tanner broke cover to save her.
He whirled on her so fast that she gasped and stumbled backwards. He grabbed her elbow with a hard hand, and yanked her close, snarling in her face.
"Oh, I think you've done enough. The next time there's a gunfight in the middle of the street you can have brains enough to keep your goddamned head down out of the line of fire. If you haven't learned that by now, you really don't need to be here. Move back east before you get someone killed."
He released her, and stalked away, leaving her standing forlornly on the boardwalk, face pale. Noticing the interested looks she was receiving from spectators, she turned and hurried back towards the Clarion.
7 7 7 7 7 7 7
It was late afternoon when a soft, broken moan brought Chris up out of a light doze. Jolting awake, he blinked anxiously down at Vin. The younger man was finally waking, moving restlessly on the narrow cot. Larabee caught Vin's hands as they clutched at his aching head. A soft, pained whimper from the sharpshooter had him reaching for the cup of willow bark tea laced with a spoonful of laudanum that Nathan had left behind before he went on rounds.
"Easy, Cowboy, easy. Everything's gonna be alright now."
He soothed his young partner tenderly, one big hand stroking the pained, unhappy face. Vin scrunched his face against the golden afternoon light, and licked dry lips. Dark blue eyes finally opened a crack to squint painfully in Larabee's direction.
"Chriiss... 'ead hurts."
"I know pard, you got nicked by a bullet. Lucky that stubborn skull of yours is so damned hard."
Tanner frowned, seemingly puzzled, and tried to again grope for his head wound. Chris caught the hand and held it firmly, the other still gently stroking Vin's face.
"Hurts..." Tanner's drawl was a soft slur.
"I know. Nate left some medicine for you. You think you can drink it if I hold you up?"
"Reckon..." he answered faintly.
Carefully, Larabee slid an arm under the curly head and lifted him enough so he could sip the tea. He felt a foolish grin grow at the faces Vin pulled at the bitter taste.
" 'orse piss..."
Larabee chuckled aloud and unable to resist, bent and gently kissed the disgruntled face. Tanner turned blindly into the comfort of Larabee's touch, wincing at the throbbing pain in his head.
"Wan' go home..."
"Soon, Cowboy, soon."
Vin sighed, and fumbled for Chris' shirt trying to pull him closer. Grinning, Chris obliged, leaning in to plant another relieved kiss on the pliant lips. Tanner sighed again, turning his face contentedly against Larabee's arm as he drifted back into a healing sleep. Larabee remained bent over, still holding him, eyes drinking in the sight of the flushed, sleeping face. One calloused hand gently stroked the square jaw until his back cramped, and he finally had to straighten.
7 7 7 7 7 7 7
Buck whistled cheerfully to himself as he rode his big gray gelding along the river bank. He was on his way back from helping the federal marshal escort the few surviving bank robbers to Eagle Bend. From there they would be transported to Yuma prison. He thought he might swing by Chris' and see how Vin was doing.
Nate had managed to keep the young sharpshooter in the clinic for only a day after he awoke, and then only because he hid Tanner's boots and drawers and had Larabee practically sit on him. The healer had been worried about Vin's head injury and any possible side effects. The younger man had been plagued with headaches and blurry vision. Finally, he swore he was feeling better, and against his better judgement, Nathan let Chris take him home.
Wilmington chuckled softly, remembering the smug look on Vin's face when he finally got his way, and the scowl on Larabee's. Tanner had promised Nate he would rest at home. Somehow Buck thought Vin's idea of 'rest' didn't exactly mesh with Nathan and Chris'. Poor Chris was probably about ready to shoot him by now.
As he trotted along the road winding along the river, he was surprised to see Mary Travis, travel past at a fast clip in a gig. Her pretty face was pinched and pale, and she ignored Buck's cheerful greeting, slapping the reins to urge her horse at a faster clip towards Four Corners. Bemused, Buck stared after her, wondering if the picnic hamper in the seat beside her had something to do with her bad mood.
Farther along the river, he heard a soft, familiar nicker and saw Pony and Peso picketed under the cottonwoods. Curious, he approached quietly and dismounted, looping his horse's reins over a handy branch next to Pony. He could heard the soft murmur of Chris' voice down near the water, and he followed the sound, footsteps muffled by the leaf litter under the trees. He pushed aside a shrub willow branch, and stopped dead in his tracks to stare at the sight that had so upset Mary Travis.
Chris and Vin were seated on the bank below. Two fishing poles were disgarded nearby. Larabee wore only a pair of black pants and was leaning back against a fallen log, ankles crossed. He held a small book in his hand and was reading aloud to Vin, who lay curled up against him, eyes intent on the book. The younger man was naked, tanned skin gleaming in the sun. His tousled head was pillowed on Chris' chest, one hand resting lightly on the older man's belly, one leg thrown over his.
Larabee was absently stroking Vin's bare shoulder with his free hand. As Wilmington watched, he paused, and affectionately dropped a kiss between Vin's rapt eyes before clearing his throat and resuming reading about the adventures of Robin Hood and his band of Merry Men. Both men looked relaxed and content, something Buck rarely saw in either of them. He eased back unseen, gently releasing the branch.
Somehow his grieving friend and the fugitive sharpshooter had found peace with each other, and it wasn't in him to shatter it. Love was a rare bird, hard to find, even harder to hold. It would not be an easy life for them. Buck frowned, and turned back to his horse. He had to get back to town and do some damage control. It wouldn't do for Mrs. Travis to trumpet what she saw all over town, the woman had a big mouth and if she was spiteful enough, the results could be deadly for Chris and Vin.
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Buck took another of his shortcuts to avoid the road Mary's gig would have been forced to take, and beat her back to town. He estimated he had about twenty minutes before she made it home, to come up with a plan. As he left his lathered horse in Yosemite's care, he realized he hadn't a clue as to what to say, or do. Fortunately, he ran into Ezra at the livery, returning from a patrol.
The southerner took one look at Wilmington's face, and immediately asked what the problem was. Buck stared at the man a minute, unsure of how much to confide in him. Ezra was slick as snail shit on glass, and not above twisting the information to his own advantage. Besides, Buck wasn't sure exactly how much Ez knew about Chris and Vin. Cautious eyes on the gambler's face, he slowly began to explain.
"Miz Travis is headed back into town in something of a snit, seems that she...saw Chris and Vin down at the river...skinnydipping. Maybe got the wrong idea..."
He saw comprehension dawn on Standish's face.
"Ah, our husband-hunting widow has suddenly realized that the object of her affections is forever beyond her reach..."
A bright gold tooth suddenly gleamed, in a wide, amused grin. Relieved, Buck grinned back.
"Yeah, and you know Mary can't keep a secret to save her life."
Standish sobered, and nodded slowly.
"That could have ill consequences for our privacy seeking comrades. Especially if she decides to make their lives difficult."
Buck gave a fervent nod of agreement.
"Exactly, pard."
Standish stroked his chin thoughtfully, then turned sly green eyes up to Buck.
"I would suggest that we pay a call on the lady, a pre-emptive strike if you will, to nip any unpleasantness in the bud."
Buck sputtered. "Ezra, are you suggesting that we THREATEN Judge Travis' daughter-in-law?"
Ezra gave a small sniff of disdain as he flicked a hay seed off the cuff of his red jacket.
"Hardly, Mr. Wilmington. We need only to point out to the lady in question that while she is respected by the majority of the citizens of this small community, she is not necessarily liked. Indeed, most see her as a nuisance and a busybody, and should she start any...rumors regarding our fellow peacekeepers, it would be a shame if they were reflected back upon her in such way as to tarnish her own sterling reputation. Rumor can be such a double edged sword..."
Buck draped a companionable arm around the smaller man's shoulders and gave an low, admiring whistle, as he got into the spirit of the thing.
"Such a shame, too. A woman chasing after a man like that. Seems a respectable widow would set her sights on someone else, other than lusting after 'the bad element'."
"Indeed, it seems a widow with a young child, would dress more somberly, as besuits her station in life. Very immodest, if you ask me, sir. Low cut silk gowns, and her hair down her back. Just asking for trouble."
"Following Chris into the saloon, drinking in public..."
"Indeed, hardly the actions of a respectable woman. Why, ah am surprised no one had telegraphed the Judge regarding the way his grandson is being raised..."
In perfect accord, they headed down the street towards the Clarion.
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Mary Travis drove her rented gig towards the livery. Her thoughts and emotions were in turmoil. The day had definitely not gone as she had planned. She had arranged for Gloria Potter to watch Billy for the afternoon, and packed a carefully prepared picnic lunch to carry out to Larabee's small home. Determined to make a favorable impression on the handsome gunslinger, she dressed carefully in yet another new dress.
She had had such hopes when she had learned from Nettie Wells that Chris and Vin were going into the horse raising business. Smugly, she had settled back and waited for Larabee to start calling on her in earnest, even ordering several new dresses from the seamstress in preparation, designed in style and color to catch the man's eye.
To her dismay, he had stopped seeing her altogether. Politely refusing all invitations, even those including her father-in-law. Well, now she had an idea as to why, and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She had been pleased to see Chris and Vin's horses tied on the riverbank. She was certain that the shy Tanner would make himself scarce once she made her presence known. She had tied her hired horse nearby, and lugged the picnic hamper down towards the water. She could hear splashing and laughter.
Pushing a branch aside, prepared to hallo a cheerful greeting, she froze at the unexpected sight that greeted her. Larabee and Tanner were standing together naked, hip deep in the water. Speechless, she watched as Larabee drew Tanner into an affectionate embrace. One arm around the younger man's waist, the other hand cupping the wet, tousled head, Chris Larabee kissed Vin Tanner with an ardor that left her aching and empty inside.
Vin had groaned softly, winding both arms around Chris' neck as he responded. His back towards the trees, he was so intent on Larabee, that the normally alert tracker never noticed her. Blinking in shock, she stumbled back, and the movement caught the blond's eye. Cool eyes met hers over Tanner's shoulder, and she felt a flush surge up her face. Deliberately he had pulled Vin closer, one big hand sliding down to possessively cup a lean buttock. Defiant eyes still locked with hers, he gently kissed the young man's bandaged temple as Vin nuzzled happily into his throat.
Dazed and horribly embarrassed, she had stumbled back towards the gig, nearly tripping over her own skirts. She vaguely remembered passing Buck on the road towards town. She tried to use the ride home to organize her thoughts. She felt both rage, jealousy and humiliation in turn. The man she was secretly in love with had passed HER over in favor of a scruffy, unshaven former buffalo hunter!
Mary Travis was used to getting things her own way. She had chosen her husband from a multitude of well-to-do suitors, not so much out of love, as for the promise of the excitement that life with him on the frontier would bring. When he was murdered, she had grieved, but carried on stoutly. No man had ever inspired sheer sexual attraction until her first sight of Christopher Larabee.
She realised now that she had always assumed that one day she would have him. To be proven otherwise was a shock. She understood now why he had deliberately distanced himself from her and Billy, why he had been so agitated when Vin was injured. She felt a small, cold smile emerge. If she chose, with a few words in the right ears she could make sure they were run out of town.
Thoughtfully, she reined in in front of the livery, nodding absently to Yosemite as he helped her down and took charge of the horse and gig. She hefted the hamper from the carriage, and headed down the street towards the Clarion. Head up, feeling virtuous, she mulled over her options. It would be best for the decency of the town in the long run, to rid Four Corners of this unnatural pairing.
As she approached the newspaper office, she was startled when Buck Wilmington and Ezra Standish fell into step on either side of her. Buck smoothly relieved her of the heavy hamper with one hand, even as he graciously swept his hat off with the other. Standish tucked her hand firmly into the crook of his arm.
Looking from one handsome face to the other, she felt the hair on her nape prickle. Although both men were smiling, their eyes were watchful. Seeing the expression on her face, Ezra's smile widened.
"Mah dear Miz Travis, might we have a word with you in private?"
Firmly, the two peacekeepers escorted her into the office and closed the door.
A half hour later they took their leave, with polite tips of their hats, leaving her shaking with rage at their audacity. How dare they? How dare they threaten her! But dare they did.
Frustrated tears filled her eyes, and she gave a small cry of outrage and angrily pushed the full hamper off her desk. The crunch of broken glass caused her to give a small shriek and viciously kick the fallen hamper, as she lost her temper completely. She had forgotten it was packed with a couple of her best china plates, a bottle of lemonade, and two of her crystal fluted wedding glasses.
7 7 7 7 7 7 7
A month later, seated in front of the jail, Buck sadly watched Chris and Vin ride into town, leading their string of horses behind them. Two of the mares were rigged with loaded pack saddles, and both Peso and Pony wore full gear, with full saddlebags and bedrolls. Larabee swung down from his horse and gave Buck a small smile as he slowly extended his hand.
Sorrowfully, Wilmington looked into his oldest friend's face as he took that hand and clasped it hard. He had always known the thinly veiled 'talk' with Mary was a temporary measure at best. Across the street, Vin had dismounted and slipped quietly into Potter's store. Larabee squeezed Buck's hand then, uncharacteristically for him, embraced the big man. Larabee's face was calm.
Buck cleared his throat.
"So, y'all are pulling up stakes."
"Yeah, Buck. Sold my land. We're heading north into Montana territory. Good horse country up there."
Larabee pulled his hat off, and absently slapped it against his leg. Eyes sober, he ran a hand through his mussed blond hair. He glanced across the dusty street, automatically checking on Vin, then met Buck's eyes squarely. His voice was low.
"I ain't gonna lose him to a bullet for a goddamned dollar a day, taking care of a town that won't lift a hand to help itself. We ain't gonna wait like sitting ducks for the next bounty hunter to take him out, or the 'decent' folk to run us out of town because of a woman's hurt pride. I want as long a life with him as I can get, Buck."
Buck glanced across the street, watching as Mary Travis stalked past, head high, pointedly not looking in their direction. He nodded slowly in understanding. Things had been tense since Ezra and he had had their little chat with Mary, relations with the woman frigid.
She had immediately petitioned for the judge to appoint a federal marshal at Four Corners, and used her newspaper connections to appeal back east, for clergymen and a doctor to move to town. Things were changing fast in Four Corners. Much to Ezra's dismay, she had also started a thriving Temperance League.
"You all got time for dinner before you head out? It'll give the boys a chance to say goodbye."
Larabee's stern face softened, and a smile tugged his wide mouth. He slapped Buck's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
"Fried chicken at Mrs. Collier's? You buyin'?"
Buck snorted, and rolled his eyes, throwing a companionable arm around Chris' shoulders and guiding him back across the street to round up Vin.
"If I must, I must. Say old pard, tell me more about Montana. I ain't never been up that far north. I hear the goddamned snow gets asshole deep..."
They ambled across the street, Wilmington beckoning to JD to join them. Better to let the energetic young'un round up the others. He wanted to spend as much time with Chris and Vin as possible. He reckoned it would be a long spell before he saw them again.
7 7 7 7 7 7 7
Yellowtail, Montana, Two Rivers Trading Post.
Chris Larabee whistled softly to himself as he cinched up Pony's saddle in preparation for the long ride home. The yard outside the busy post was packed with traders, mountainmen, homesteaders and Indians. Glancing across Pony's back, he watched as Vin wrapped up negotiations with a tall, gray-haired Crow warrior.
The younger man's face was animated and he mixed sign liberally with dialect as he spoke with the man. Probably swapping jokes and tall tales by now, from the twinkle in the dignified warrior's eye, and the lopsided grin on Tanner's face. Finally, the two firmly clasped hands, and exchanged the lead ropes of the colts they held. Both looked pleased with the deal.
Chris ducked his head and hid a smile as Vin walked toward him, proudly leading the blue roan colt. Vin had had his eye on the leggy colt from the day they arrived for the spring trading. The young man wore a beaded buckskin shirt now, over his familiar tan britches, and fringed leggings over his boots. His hair was longer too, cascading from under his hat to the small of his back, with red hawk's feathers beaded into a slender, side braid. Tanner was popular with all their neighbors, both red and white.
Chris still wore his customary black duster and pants, but he sported a blue denim shirt as well, and found himself smiling often now. It was impossible not to, after spending the last two years with Vin Tanner. Here, high in the Montana mountain valleys, they were slowly building a rep as excellent horse breeders, had gained the respect of their neighbors and started a new life far from Four Corners.
Larabee tucked a small packet of letters into his saddle bag, along with a couple of small surprises for Vin. The boys had kept up a surprisingly steady correspondence. They were all still in Four Corners, with the exception of Ezra, who was now living in style in San Francisco, with a pretty Chinese wife.
Nathan had married Rain and moved out to the Seminole village, they were expecting their second child. Josiah had almost finished rebuilding the old mission outside of town. Two Franciscan brothers had arrived seemingly out of the blue one day, and stayed to help. JD was courting Casey steadily. Buck still flitted like an oversized bumblebee from one woman to another, but in ever decreasing circles around Inez.
Vin nudged in next to Chris, to loop the colt's lead rope around Peso's saddle horn. Trading had been good this year. They had sold three mares and traded two weanling colts. They now had enough dried and canned foodstuffs to last until fall, a few new Hudson's Bay blankets, a buffalo robe, nails, bullets, a new ax blade, Vin's new colt, and a fat pouch of silver dollars to take home.
Chris slanted a look at his smug partner, as he swung up into his saddle.
"Well, you got him."
"Yep. Didn't even have to trade for his youngest daughter, neither." A vivid blue eye winked up at him, anticipating the Larabee scowl.
Larabee gave him an evil white grin instead, as he nudged Pony into a walk, leading the pack mare.
"I dunno Tanner, with your cookin' maybe the cabin could do with a woman's touch."
He rode away, back straight, hiding his smile, well aware of the jealous frown suddenly sizzling holes into his shoulder blades. Vin urged Peso up beside him, one knee bumping his companiably, and glanced over at him, a wicked smile curling his lips.
"Reckon it's not too late, Lar'bee. Blue Duck Woman yonder is lookin' for another husband, and she thinks that blond hair of yours is right pretty."
Chris cringed mentally, involuntarily glancing over to where the fat squaw sat placidly under a tree, her weathered face about as appealing as a mud pie. Catching his eye, she gave him a broad, snaggle-toothed grin. Flinching, he turned to glare at his partner. Highly pleased with himself, Tanner gave a snicker and urged his horse into a lope, Larabee on his heels.
Catching up with his smartass partner, Larabee spoke conversationally.
"You do know, I'm gonna make you pay for that later."
Vin slanted a laughing look over at his partner, blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Yep. I's lookin' forward to that. Ya been a mite dull lately, reckon that must come with age and all."
He abruptly reined Peso out of Larabee's reach, and with a raucous whoop, spurred the big gelding into a gallop, his colt bounding behind on the lead rope. Sputtering in outrage, Larabee was quick to follow, mentally debating just how hard to kick Tanner's scrawny ass when he caught him.
7 7 7 7 7 7 7
Later that night, they camped high in the mountains, closer to their small, secluded valley home. Snug and warm, wrapped in blankets in a canvas lean-to under the aspens, Chris finished reading the last of the letters to Vin. They were silent for a minute, pondering the latest news. Diptheria had swept Four Corners, taking a heavy toll among the children. Among the small victims were Nate's little son, Gloria Potter's daughter, and Billy Travis.
Larabee was silent, remembering a lonely little boy for whom he had once carved a wooden horse. Vin was quiet as well, tousled head pillowed on Larabee's shoulder. Then he sniffed, and Chris felt warm wetness against his collarbone. Chris wrapped a long arm around his partner's shoulders, pulling him closer. Tanner hid his wet face against Chris' neck for a few minutes, until he regained his composure.
They watched the cheerful flicker of the flames in their small fire, and the long shadows it threw against the canvas for long minutes. Vin rubbed his eyes shakily, and cleared his throat.
"Poor Nate. He sure did dote on that baby, and Mary ain't got nobody now."
Larabee closed his eyes, remembering his own son, and the unspeakable pain of losing a child. He pinched the bridge of his nose hard and spoke, trying to comfort.
"Nate should have delivered his second young 'un by now. That will help keep him busy. As for Mary, she didn't waste any time. She married that rich railroad man right after and moved to St. Louis fast enough."
He held the last letter up to the light again, frowning. He still harbored something of a grudge against Mary, or at least her prissy attitude. It was the last bit of news that Buck had included that made him uneasy. Ezra had sent a letter to Wilmington to be forwarded to Larabee. A genteel stranger had approached him in the elegant casino he owned in San Francisco, very casually asking questions about Larabee's whereabouts.
Chris and Vin had been close mouthed about where they were going when they left Four Corners. They had privately told only the boys, and even gone so far as laying a false trail south towards Mexico. Buck had promised to send word if anyone came poking around asking too many questions. So far, Wilmington and Dunne had cheerfully sent several bounty hunters, and reputation seeking gunslingers towards Brazil on wild goose chases.
Chris stared thoughtfully at the last paragraph of the page in Standish's fancy copperplate script. He could almost hear Ezra's drawl.
"...I cannot say with certainty, Mr. Larabee, that it was indeed her. I caught only a glimpse of the veiled woman inside a hanson cab when I followed the man. However, from a distance it certainly appeared to be none other than that Black Widow herself, Ella Gaines. I shall make more detailed inquiries, and update you forthwith. I urge that you and Mr. Tanner remain vigilant, for it can bode no good if that woman is seeking you out again."
Vin's soft, awed drawl broke his reverie.
"Ez sure does write as fancy as he talks, don't he?"
He raised a hand and traced a fancy curlicue on the expensive stationary with one finger. Standish had even sealed the note with red sealing wax, which impressed Vin immensely.
Larabee felt a fond smile creep across his face. He tilted the heavy parchment so Vin could read it more closely if he chose. Chris had spent the majority of the first long winter here teaching his young partner how to read and write. One of his greatest pleasures now was to lie back in their cozy shared bed and have Vin read to him.
Tanner waved it aside, and snuggled against Larabee under the thick wool blankets, throwing one leg across Chris' narrow hip, as he pressed himself closer, skin to warm skin. He nuzzled insistently against Larabee's unshaven jaw, sharp teeth nibbling at a tender earlobe, causing the older man to draw in a unsteady breath. A clever hand slid down the silky skin of Chris' lean belly and began to play with a tiny navel.
"Seem ta recall a promise to teach me a lesson.."
This was husked into the tingling ear that Tanner was currently tormenting so sweetly.
Larabee scowled at the ceiling of the canvas shelter, currently unable to recall his own name, much less any earlier conversation. Damn! When Vin hit a sweet spot...he never seemed to stop. And didn't he ever get tired? They had already loved once tonight.
With a snarl, he grabbed his man and with the speed of long practice, expertly rolled to pin Tanner beneath him without losing their warm cocoon of blankets. Vin blinked smugly up at him, exactly where he wanted to be and Chris realized he had been had when Tanner pretended to yawn in his face and fall asleep with a mumbled, "Thanks' Chris. I was getting a mite cold. Nice of you ta cover me up so warm."
The next minute he was yelping like a coyote and giggling helplessly as Larabee dug cold fingers into tender, sensitive ribs, tickling him unmercifully as he was unable to escape the lean man sitting firmly astride his thighs.
"Oh, I'll warm you up Tanner, don't worry."
Larabee smugly continued to tickle his helpless partner as he grinned evilly down into Vin's flushed, breathless face. If he had know this secret to rendering the sharpshooter mute and helpless, he would have tried it years ago! Finally, he took pity on Vin's breathless wheezing and stopped. He settled with great deliberation on his back in the bedroll and snapped his blankets up, and with Vin tucked firmly against his side, closed his eyes.
"You gonna behave now?"
There was a soft snicker in response.
Larabee was unsurprised to feel a warm hand meander back down his belly, the long fingers tugging playfully at his pubic hair. He cracked open an eye to glare at his smirking blue-eyed nemesis, and fought the urge to smile back. The exploring hand wandered back up to circle one velvet aureole slowly. Vin paused, pondering, then nervously licked his lips. Curious now, Chris waited.
Finally, Vin stammered out his question.
"Chris, ya remember when we talked about...maybe..." At this point, he blushed scarlet and his voice became inaudible.
"Maybe what?" Larabee asked softly, wondering what had Tanner suddenly so shy. He ran a lazy hand down Vin's bare back.
Vin kept his eyes glued to his hand on Larabee's chest, head ducked down to avoid the man's eyes.
"'Bout you being inside of me."
Larabee's eyes popped wide open. Goddamn. He was instantly diamond hard. Suddenly dry mouthed himself, he licked his lips slowly, before answering gently.
"It'll hurt, Pard. Especially the first time. We don't have to do that, we do fine without it."
"Don't ya want me, Chris?"
Hurt blue eyes looked sadly into his. Shit. Tanner was giving him the wide, doe-eyed look that pretty much guaranteed that Larabee would be doing whatever Vin wanted as soon as possible. He rolled over and pulled Vin fully into his arms, one big hand snaking down to grab Vin's wrist and guide his hand to Larabee's swollen penis. He curled Vin's warm fingers over himself and squeezed, while he spoke firmly into his ear.
"I ALWAYS want you Cowboy, always. I just can't bear the thought of hurting you."
Vin pressed himself close, warm skin plastered against Larabee's. He twined both arms around Chris' neck and pressed his lips against Larabee's face hungrily.
"I want you too, Chris. I been thinkin' about it forever. I ain't afraid. I know it'll hurt the first time. I got some salve to ease the way..."
He fumbled under a corner of their shared bedroll and pulled out a round tin of Clover Blossom Salve, that he pressed into Larabee's hand. Anxiously, he watched the older man's face for any signs of approval. He reached a shaky hand up to trace Chris' mouth. Larabee took a deep breath, and licked his lips again, desperately trying to rein in his hormones and delay.
"Don't you want to wait until we get home, pard? Nice, soft bed there. Could be a mite saddlesore tomorrow."
"No. I want you now, Chris. Could be shot and scalped tomorrow, or fall into a ravine, or get et by a grizzly. I don't want ta wait anymore."
Larabee closed his eyes hard. Finally he opened them and smiled at his lover.
"Get et by a grizzly, huh? You DO know, it would spit your scrawny ass out?"
Vin leaned over his lover, blue eyes narrowed with evil intent, his voice a slow, sensual Texas drawl.
"You mean my freshly, Larabee-fucked, scrawny ass, don't ya?"
Chris swallowed hard, and closed his eyes in surrender. His own voice was husky.
"Yeah."
7 7 7 7 7 7 7
Sometime later, Chris Larabee lay sprawled flat on his back, wondering if either of them would even be able to walk in the morning, much less sit a horse. His raw cock felt like Tanner had used it as the business end of a lasso. He had high hopes of someday being able to piss again. The man is question was currently sprawled contentedly on Larabee's chest snoring like a hibernating bear. A broad, stupid grin split Larabee's handsome face. Damn.
Tanner hadn't been satisfied with one time. After cautiously easing astride Chris, he had then proceeded to ride Larabee into the ground like a wild bronc, then, after Chris got his wind back, he had turned over and presented his rump for another round. Chris had obliged, and as he mounted that sweet ass, he vaguely wondered what had happened to his blushing virgin of an hour ago.
Lord, if Tanner kept this pace up, Larabee would be white-haired and dead by September. He couldn't believe they had waited so long to try this. The grin widened, and Chris stretched lazily beneath his warm human blanket as he drifted blearily towards sleep. Damn, what a way to go, rode hard and put up wet. He had a feeling that his long nights wrestling with insomnia and fighting the dark were part of the past..
FINI