Sequel to A Friend Loveth
WARNINGS: NC-17 for the graphic description of male-male sex.
Tuesday, mid-morning
Josiah worked inside the church while the rain fell outside, steady and light, just like it had almost constantly over the past three weeks. The cold drizzle had put a damper on the usual comings and goings of the residents in Four Corners, forcing them inside to escape the wet and the mud. But that suited the big man just fine, because it had given him the time he'd needed to finish off the last of the renovations on the small church.
He stood now and glanced around, his chest swelling a little with pride. All his hard work, completed over the past year, had paid off. The walls had been repaired and whitewashed, the floor replaced and sanded smooth, and all the pews repaired and painted, along with the altar. And there was a beautiful new stained-glass window that rained brilliant colors on the inside of the building on those sunny days that usually dominated the desert town.
Even now, with the sky a dull slate grey, and the rain falling, the glass still glowed warmly, reflecting back the candlelight that filled the room. It was a church any priest, pastor, or minister could be proud of.
But now that it was finished, the big man wasn't sure what his next project should be, and he knew he needed something to keep his hands, and his thoughts, busy.
Maybe he should try to spruce up the interior more somehow, or he could try planting some trees and flowers around the outside of the building. That would be a great improvement to the overall look of the church.
The distant sound of gunfire scattered his thoughts and Josiah scowled, grabbing his gunbelt off the front pew and buckling it on. He had just reached the door when it opened and Vin hurried in.
"Four men robbed the bank," the tracker said. "Nathan's on his way. Y' watch this end 'a town with him; I'm gonna go topside."
And before Josiah could reply, Tanner was gone again.* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
The ensuing battle was short but fierce, the four outlaws managing to put up a good fight in their bid to escape with the stolen money, but they were out-numbered and out-gunned and, one by one, they fell.
When the shooting finally stopped, the townsfolk began to emerge from their homes and businesses, watching as the peacekeepers dragged the four would-be bandits into a pile on the boardwalk in front of the Standish Tavern.
"Buck, JD, get some men to help you and get this trash off the street," Chris barked.
"Yes, please, with all due haste," Ezra added, looking distastefully at the bodies.
"Come on," Buck said to the men standing closest as he grabbed one outlaw's wrists, JD the same man's ankles. "Grab some arms and legs and let's go."
The men stepped forward a little tentatively, but then the bodies were on their way to the undertakers.
Glancing around, Larabee demanded, "Anybody get hurt?"
No one said anything, and Nathan breathed a sigh of relief.
"Where's Vin?" Larabee asked, frowning. Tanner had been up on the rooftops, running along, firing, leaping from building to building. He was sure that at least two of the bandits had been felled by the sharpshooter, one of them just moments before he would have killed Larabee himself. "Tanner!" he called loudly.
Josiah felt a cold chill race down his back and his breath caught in his throat as he began to sweep the street with a worried gaze, looking for the man who had become his lover.
"'M here," came the familiar raspy voice.
The ex-preacher turned to see Vin coming down the covered boardwalk. He appeared uninjured, if dripping wet. Out in the street the rain was beginning to fall harder, and the grumble of thunder rolled loudly from cloud to cloud. Then, as he watched Vin draw closer, a bright flash split the daylight, accompanied a moment later by a loud crack.
It took a moment for his eyes to clear, but when they did, Josiah saw Vin stumble back a step, his back arching like a bow. And, a moment later, the tracker crumpled to the wooden walk.
"Vin!" Josiah and Chris yelled in unison, both afraid the man had been struck by lightning.
The two men lunged forward, reaching the fallen man at the same time. Ezra and Nathan, their guns drawn, scanned the small crowd, trying to see where the shot had come from while the townsfolk scattered, seeking cover in case the shooting continued.
Kneeling, the two peacekeepers carefully rolled Vin onto his back where a spreading stain was turning the front of his tan shirt red.
"Nathan!" Chris yelled, his gaze scanning the street and the rooftops he could see for danger, his Colt out and in his hand.
A moment later the healer was beside them. "Didn't see anyone. Get him up to the clinic," he instructed, rising and hurrying ahead to get ready, his head swiveling left and right as he continued to watch the street and building tops.
"I'll take him," Josiah said, carefully gathering Vin into his arms and standing.
Chris walked beside the former preacher, his gun still out, gaze sweeping the street and people, ready to protect the fallen tracker if the need arose.
Reaching the stairs leading to the clinic, Josiah started up, Nathan waiting at the top, covering them as well. Chris followed behind, guarding their backs.
Mary hurried up to the bottom of the steps, calling, "How is he?"
"Don't know yet," Nathan called back. "Gonna go find out right now."
Mary nodded, her expression worried as she climbed the stairs. She met Chris's eyes, saying, "I'll help Nathan. I know you and Josiah will need to find whoever did this."
Larabee clearly didn't want to leave the wounded man, but Mary was right, they did need to find whoever had shot Vin. Nodding, he escorted her inside, then said to Josiah, "Mary will help Nathan. Let's see if we can find the shooter."
Josiah looked more shaken than Larabee expected, but the preacher nodded and followed him out of the clinic. On the landing they were joined by Buck, JD, and Ezra, who all wanted to know how Vin was.
"Nathan's working on him now," Chris replied. "The shooter–"
"Nothing," Ezra interrupted. "We checked–"
"We'll look again," Chris snapped.
The others all nodded, knowing it wouldn't be wise to argue with the gunman when he was in this kind of mood.* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
A little over an hour later the five peacekeepers met back at the clinic. None of them had found anything or anyone to tell them who might have shot Vin.
Chris knocked on the door and then stepped inside, calling, "Nathan?"
"Y'all can come on in," the healer invited from near the bed where Vin lay.
Chris and the others moved inside, all of them very surprised to find the tracker sitting up in the bed, awake, and looking much better than any of them had expected.
"How is he?" Chris asked Nathan, but his gaze was on Vin.
"Bullet wasn't in too deep," the healer said. "Might have been a ricochet. Have to watch for infection now, but it wasn't near as bad as I was thinkin' it might be."
"Y'all done talkin' 'bout me now?" Vin grumbled from where he lay, glowering at Larabee and the healer.
Chris fought back a grin as he stepped over closer to the bed where the tracker rested. "You see who it was?"
Vin shook his head. "Lightnin' blinded me right b'fore it happened; couldn't see a damn thing."
The door to the clinic burst open, several of the peacekeepers drawing their guns as Patrick O'Gara rushed in carrying his son. "Mr. Jackson, Sean's busted his leg real bad!"
The regulators holstered their guns, and Buck stepped over and shut the door again.
Nathan looked from the boy to the bed where Vin lay. The tracker immediately started to get up.
"Oh no you don't," Josiah said crossing the room and scooping the tracker up, blanket and all, into his arms. "I'll take him to the church," he told Nathan. "See to it that he rests."
"You watch him fo' any fever," Nathan instructed, gesturing for Patrick to bring Sean over to the now empty bed.
"I will," Josiah assured the healer as he headed for the door with the tracker.
"Ah hell, J'siah, I c'n walk," Vin protested, looking indignant.
"No need, brother," the big man replied as they left the clinic, Chris trailing along with them. "Besides, you're not exactly fit for polite society."
"J'siah–" Vin stared, then realized it was true. He was naked under the blanket.
"Tanner, shut up and do what you're told for once," Larabee snapped.
Vin glanced over at the gunslinger, seeing the deep worry in the man's green eyes. He had given Chris a good scare. With a soft sigh he relaxed in Josiah's arms.
Wednesday
It only took a short time to get Vin to the church and make him comfortable in Josiah's bed.
Chris and Buck stayed with the former preacher that night, the ladies' man going to fetch Ezra and JD when Vin developed a fever early in the morning.
Nathan arrived as soon as he could, Sean O'Gara's leg having been set, the boy sleeping comfortably after another dose of laudanum. The healer checked Vin's wound, found the infection, and cleaned it out as best he could. But the fever still continued to build over the course of the day.
By afternoon they wrapped the tracker in wet towels in an effort to bring it back down. And Chris and Josiah took turns, sitting behind the injured man, holding the tracker propped up against their chests and carefully feeding him the tea Nathan prepared.
Tanner drifted in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware of the men who were working to keep him alive.
And then, a few hours after sunset, his fever finally broke.
The others changed out the sodden mattress and bedding, then made Vin as comfortable as they could. Nathan returned to the clinic check on Sean, and the others headed off to their beds for some much needed sleep – everyone except Josiah and Chris. Those two men each nursed a glass of whiskey while they watched over the sleeping tracker, waiting to see if the fever would return.
Larabee caught an unguarded expression on the older man's face when he stood to pour himself another glass and sighed softly. "He's gotten to you, too, hasn't he…" It wasn't a question.
Josiah turned to look at the gunman over his shoulder. The fond expression on Larabee's face told him all he needed to know about what the man meant. "Yes, I guess he has at that."
"He can grow on you better and faster than anyone I've ever met," Chris said softly, shaking his head. "I sure as hell didn't expect it."
"Yep, has a real talent for it," Josiah agreed, a grin lifting the corners of his mouth.
Chris sighed heavily as he sat back down. "I promised myself… when my wife and son died… that I'd never let anyone get that close to me again… But it happened so fast; before I even realized it… before I could stop it."
"Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death,"(1) Josiah quoted softly. "Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it."(2)
Larabee snorted softly. "I hated love… To me it was no more than a promise of pain, terrible pain, to come… until this damned tracker walked into my life."
Josiah nodded. "He showed you the joys of love… The joys of having a brother, a friend you could put your faith in."
Chris nodded again. "Being able to let him in… to put my faith in him, allowed me to finally let them rest – to accept that I could live again, and not feel guilty about it."
"And have you?" the preacher asked him. "Have you started to live again, Chris?"
"I think so," the gunslinger replied. "God knows I can feel again, sometimes too much, but the numbness from before was slowly killing me."
"Then he's given you a gift that would be hard to repay."
"Impossible, I'd say."
"That the soul of the man I speak for, feeds, rejoices in comrades,"(3) Josiah said. "Believe me, what you've given him is as precious to him as his friendship is to you."
"I hope you're right," Larabee said, then scrubbed a hand over his face. He knew he looked tired, and he felt exhausted. "I've never felt quite this way about anyone . . . never met someone who knew me better than I knew myself after a day. There are times it scares me."
"He's… He has a pureness of heart that's truly rare," Josiah said softly. "And, for the grace of his lips the king shall be his friend."(4)
Larabee smiled. "I don't know about kings, but he's made some good friends in this town, even if he doesn't seem to realize it sometimes."
"He's finally found the family he's been searching for."
"I hope so," Chris replied, rubbing a hand over his face again. "He deserves to find some comfort… some happiness."
But he'll never find the happiness he really wants… "Go, get some rest, brother," Josiah said softly, reaching out to give the gunman's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"Will you take care of him for me?" Larabee asked him, and Josiah had the uncomfortable feeling the man had understood too much after all.
The big preacher nodded.
Chris stood and stretched, then took a last look at the sleeping tracker, turned, and headed to the boarding house and his own bed.
After Larabee had left, Josiah sat, continuing to watch Vin while he slept, wondering if the tracker really was happy. He knew the tracker had deep feelings for Larabee, but they were feelings that would never be returned, not like the tracker hoped. "Only to them that love, as I myself am capable of loving,"(5) he muttered. But he doubted that Larabee would ever be able to love as Vin loved, as he himself could love.
He sighed softly, unsure why the tracker's happiness was so important to him.
But he knew. He did. He cared for the man. Oh, not in the same way Vin cared about Chris, but close. That purity of heart that the tracker possessed had restored an important part of Josiah's faith, and for that he would remain forever in Tanner's debt.
Being able to give Vin back even a small portion of happiness made the defrocked priest happy. And the memories of the pure pleasure on the tracker's face when they had lain together not only brought Josiah joy, but filled his dreams with sweet scenes of passion and joyous release.
And he had just come so close to losing Vin – they had all come so close. He couldn't imagine how Chris would feel if Vin was killed. He knew he wasn't at all sure the gunman could survive it. And he wasn't at all sure he would want to himself.
He reached out and gently brushed the light brown hair off the tracker's forehead. Vin's skin was still cool and dry, and he didn't stir under the light touch.
"Thank you, Lord. I know You and Your angels must watch out for this boy, and I just wanted to ask that You keep it up. Vin is needed here, as You well know."
And then the former preacher leaned back in his chair and opened his Bible on his lap, but it was the words from a poem that filled his thoughts and he whispered, "As I walk by your side, or sit near, or remain in the same room with you… little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is playing within me."(6) And again he couldn't help but wonder if Larabee didn't feel that same fire playing within him, even if he didn't understand it any more than Josiah did.
Thursday
A few hours later, a couple hours after dawn, Vin stirred, moaning softly.
Josiah, who had drifted off to sleep, started awake. He blinked and met the open blue eyes that regarded him with a mix of innocence and smoldering desire. "How are you?" he asked, trying to ignore the hunger in the tracker's eyes.
"Hurts some," Vin admitted. "But I was hopin' y' might be able t' help me take care 'a that."
Josiah chuckled softly at the man's boldness. "Oh no," he said, "you're not ready for that."
"More ready then y' might think," Tanner replied, a wolfish grin curling the corners of his lips.
"What you're ready for is some food," Josiah replied practically.
"Real food, or that mush Nathan forces on a man?" Vin asked him warily, looking like he might just bolt out of the bed if Josiah didn't give him the answer he wanted.
The big man sighed softly. "How about some scrambled eggs… and some of Nathan's tea?"
"The egg is all right," Vin replied, looking less than happy as he slowly sat up in the bed.
"You stay put," Josiah said, standing and rearranging the pillows so the tracker could sit up comfortably in the bed. "I'll go get your breakfast." Vin muttered something and the former priest's eyes narrowed. "Vin, I better find you right there when I get back," he warned.
"Ah hell, J'siah, I've been layin' here too long. I need t' stretch m' legs."
"Not until you eat, and Nathan gets a look at you," Josiah told him, but it was clear the tracker had other ideas. "You get out of that bed, it'll be a month of Sundays before you get what you were asking for earlier."
Vin's eyes rounded. "A month 'a Sundays?" he squeaked.
"You heard me," Josiah said, trying to sound as strict as he possibly could. God, how did Nathan and Chris ever manage?
Vin slumped back against his pillows with a defeated sigh. "Yer a hard man, J'siah," he complained. "Damn hard."
Trying not to smile, he replied, "Can be, when I have to. And you, Vin Tanner, could try the patience of a saint."
As the former preacher turned to go, Vin called, "J'siah? Maybe y' c'n bring back some of them fried-up pieces 'a bread Ezra likes? Ya know the ones."
"I know," Josiah said, doubting the tracker was ready for baignet's, but if that's what he wanted, how could be say no? He shook his head, leaving Tanner to get the man's breakfast.* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Less than an hour later Josiah was back at the church, watching while Vin packed away his meal with more gusto than the preacher expected given the man's fight with the fever. But it appeared that the tracker was on the road to a full recovery.
"Y' find who shot me?"
"No, not yet."
"Thought I heard Chris an' y' talkin' earlier," Vin said between bites.
Josiah nodded. "He stayed after your fever broke; wanted to make sure that you were going to be all right."
Vin nodded. "Guess I gave him a fright."
"You did… Me too."
"Hell, y' both ought t' know 'm too damn stubborn t' git kilt before I clear m' name."
"You're stubborn, all right," Josiah agreed with him. "But it was close, Vin. Too damn close."
The tracker dipped his head, looking back up at Sanchez through his long lashes. It was a totally innocent expression, guileless and open. "Never meant t' scare ya, J'siah… Chris neither."
"I know that," Josiah replied, reaching out to cup the man's cheek in his palm. "The most dauntless and rude shall touch face to face lightly,"(7) he whispered.
"Ya callin' me rude, J'siah?" Vin asked, his eyes narrowing with righteous challenge.
Sanchez chuckled softly. "No, it's just part of a poem."
Vin's expression went soft and open again. "I'm feelin' better now… got m'self more strength…"
"No," Josiah said with conviction. "You need to rest."
Tanner pouted.
Josiah chuckled again, louder this time. "You get some more sleep and I'll go fetch Nathan to come take a look at you as soon as he can, and then we'll see."
"Promise?"
"I don't promise anything, except to love you when you're ready to be loved."
"Reckon 'm ready now."
"No, you're not."
Vin sighed heavily and finished his meal, then lay down after Josiah removed the tray from his lap. The big man then tucked him in and dandled his hair affectionately. The tracker blushed in response, but he didn't draw away, the feel of Josiah's touch sending warmth spreading through his body, relaxing him, and drawing him into the healing arms of sleep.* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Nathan finished his examination and stood. "He looks good, real good," he said, a smile on his lips. "Ya did a fine job with him, Josiah. Next time he gets himself hurt, think I'm gonna let you take care of him."
Josiah laughed softly. "Let's just hope there isn't a next time, although I think that's far too much to hope for."
"With this one?" the healer asked him, his tone incredulous. "I think you're right 'bout that."
"Can he get up and movin' when he wakes up?"
Nathan thought of a moment. "Like it better if he'd stay abed fo' another day or two, but I can't see how that's gonna happen."
"Me either," Josiah replied with a grin.
"Do yo'r best," Nathan told him. "The O'Gara boy's still feverish, I better get back to check on him."
Josiah nodded. "Thank you, brother."
The healer flashed him another smile. "It's me who should be thanking you, Josiah. Yo' made things a whole lot easier on me, takin' care of him like this."
"It was no burden."
"No, guess it wasn't. He ain't too bad, but he can wear on a man's nerves after a couple 'a days."
Josiah walked Nathan to the door of his bedroom and into the church, saying as they went, "Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ."(8)
Nathan chuckled and shook his head. "Well, Lord knows these men can be a burden when they get hurt."
"Amen, brother."
"You should talk."
"Me? How's Sean doing?"
"Better. He's gonna be fine. I'm just glad he told me how he wanted t' help his pa fight them outlaws."
"I can understand, given the excitement, and the scare that lightning gave him, how he fell and accidentally shot Vin."
"Yeah, so did Chris. He gave the boy a good talkin' to, but he was kind 'bout it."
"At least it wasn't a bounty hunter. Now, why don't you go get some sleep, brother, you look like you could use it."
Nathan flashed Josiah a smile and left. The big man returned to the bed, finding Vin still sleeping peacefully.
Friday
It was dark again the next time Vin awoke, very early the following morning. Josiah woke then too, feeling the tracker's gaze on him where he sat in his rocking chair, sleeping, a book of poetry lying open in his lap.
In the pale moonlight that filtered past his window, Josiah could see that the innocent, hungry look was back, and this time he knew there would be no putting Vin off, or turning him onto another path. "Feeling better?"
Vin nodded. "Good 'nough."
"Enough?" Josiah asked, already knowing exactly where the man's thoughts were taking him.
"Enough t' know what I want…"
Josiah met the man's expressive blue eyes, so open, so wanting, and smiled slowly. "You give me the pleasure of your eyes… face… flesh, as we pass – and take of my beard, breast, hands in return."(9)
"Hmm, sounds right good t' me," Vin replied, tossing back the blanket in an invitation.
The big man knew he could not refuse this time and, in truth, he didn't want to. He never felt quite so alive as when he was lying in the tracker's arms.
He stood and set the book of poetry aside, undressed, and climbed into the bed alongside Vin.
"Tell me some more of them pretty words, J'siah," the tracker said softly, his hand stealing over Josiah's chest, touching and exciting the man so that he trembled under his touch.
"For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover, in the cool night, in the stillness, in the autumn moonbeams, his face inclined toward me,"(10) he whispered, reaching out to touch Vin in return, stroking lightly over the man's chest and belly, arm and shoulder, being careful not to draw too near to the bandaged wound on the tracker's other shoulder.
"Wish I could read them words," Tanner sighed sadly.
"Soon. Mary says you're doing very well," Josiah replied, reaching up to cup the man's cheek in his hand. "Soon you'll be able to read the poets, the philosophers, whoever you choose."
The tracker shrugged. "Gonna be a long time before I c'n read words as sweet as them, J'siah. An' they ain't never gonna sound the same comin' outta my mouth, not like they do comin' out 'a yers."
The older man chuckled softly, the sound a deep rumble that vibrated through Vin's chest and hardened his cock. "Ah, Vin, you have no idea… No appreciation for the poet who lives inside your soul."
"Hell, J'siah, nothin' lives inside m' soul 'cept a– Well, hell, nothin' I guess, jist me."
"But you, Vin Tanner, are a poet. It's in your soul, just like honesty and loyalty resides in there as well."
Vin snorted and rolled his head from side to side. "Yer makin' me out t' sound… hell, noble or somethin'."
"You are, Vin, you are. Inside of you is a heart that's pure and true. A poet's heart… one I can't resist." And with that his hand drifted down the tracker's belly to grasp his cock.
Vin gasped softly, his hips pressing up into the warm embrace.
"Thrust me beneath your clothing…" Josiah said, squeezing, pulling. "I may feel the throbs of your heart…." He squeezed again, stroking, over and over. "Merely touching you, is enough – is best…"(11)
Tanner groaned lowly, his hip pressing up again and again into Josiah's tight embrace, his body beginning to shake. And before long, he was coming.
When he finished and slumped back against the mattress, panting for air and trembling all over, Josiah cleaned him and then lay down next to him again, pulling him gently into his arms and holding him, whispering, "There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not at all."(12)
"Ah, J'siah, I want t' touch ya… I want t'–"
"Shh," the big man said, gently stroking the tracker's hair. "Not this time. You need to rest now. Tomorrow, if you still want me, I'll be yours, but not before."
"T'morrow," Vin repeated. "Y' drive hard bargains, J'siah."
Sanchez chuckled, the rumble vibrating through Tanner's back and chest, making him feel warm and safe. "Sleep some more, Vin."
"Will y' be here when I wake up?"
"I'll be here."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"All right… but I jist want y' t' know… I ride in yer shadow, y' hold me t' yer breast in the darkness… yer body seeps int' mine, like rain int' the desert, givin' me life… an' m' body ain't jist mine any longer… It's yers, like the sky owns a sunrise."
Josiah smiled, still running his hand over the soft, shoulder-length hair. "See, what did I tell you? You are a poet, Vin Tanner."
"Ain't no poet, jist the way it I feel is all."
"It's still poetry, Vin. Whitman said the same thing this way: I ate with you, and slept with you – your body has become not yours only, nor left my body mine only."(13)
"Them's the words of a real poet."
"Yes, but yours are the sweeter to my ears."
"Ain't gonna be yer ears I'm gonna make mine come mornin'," Vin growled, making Josiah tremble with desire.
"Sleep," the older man ordered.
Vin closed his eyes, sure that he would be awake again in a couple of hours, before dawn had gotten far enough along that they needed to worry about Nathan coming back to check on him. And when he did, he planned to show Josiah just how much he appreciated the man's friendship, and his love.
The last thing he heard as he fell asleep was Josiah's voice: "For ye yourselves are taught of God to love one another…"(14)Continues in Whom My Heart Loveth
(1) Song of Solomon, 8:6.
(2) Ibid., 8:7.
(3) Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1860, 348.
(4) Proverbs, 22:11.
(5) Leaves, 348.
(6) Ibid., 377.
(7) Leaves, 351.
(8) Galatins, 6:2.
(9) Leaves, 366.
(10) Ibid., 357-58.
(11) Leaves, 346.
(12) Ibid., 371.
(13) Leaves, 366.
(14) I Thessalonians, 4:9
Author's Note: This story first appeared in the Mag 7 zine, Seven Card Stud #4, published by Neon RainBow Press, Cinda Gillilan and Jody Norman, editors. When we all decided to post the stories that have appeared in the issues of Seven Card Stud that are more than two years old, we opted to use a generic pen name because, while Aspen Glennbearn (aka Michelle Fortado) is the primary author of this story, she had so much help from the other folks writing for the press that it just made sense to consider the story to be written by the Neon RainBow Press Collective! Resistance was futile. So, thanks to the whole Neon Gang – Sierra Chaves, Michelle Fortado, Patricia Grace, Erica Michaels, Nina Talbot, Kasey Tucker, and Lorin and Mary Fallon Zane. Story lasted edited 8-1-2005. Art by Shiloh (shigal13@excite.com)