Main Character(s): Chris, OFC

Type of Story: Het

Universe: OW

Pairing: Chris, OFC

Disclaimer: Nope, don’t have a claim on ‘m… don’t make a cent off this stuff. The Alphabet Brigade owns ‘m. Good enuff? The lady’s mine. Please don’t use her without permission.

Warnings: This is HET. It contains explicit M/F sex. If you don’t like it, turn around now. It’s pretty straightforward H/C of the adult variety… filled with gratuitous sex and violence. What fun!

Notes: Written for Deb C., in celebration of her birthday. She asked for an adult (HET) Christastrophe. Happiest of birthdays, girl, and a magnificent year ahead.

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DEBORAH (f) English, Jewish, Biblical "bee" from the Hebrew name Devorah. Deborah was the nurse of Rebecca in the Old Testament. Also in the Old Testament, this was the name of a heroine and prophetess who led the Israelites in defeating the Canaanites.

　

Chris Larabee rode slowly through the thick prairie grass, his black gelding picking his way along at a casual pace. Neither horse nor rider had any interest in going anywhere in particular, simply enjoying the day. The black clad man was returning from Fort Laramie, where he had assisted Judge Travis in trying and convicting a murderer. Travis had gone on north, while Chris set out to return to Four Corners. He had wired the others to let them know that he was going to take his time on the trip back.

Tipping his black hat back, the blond looked up into the cloudless sky, allowing a smile to creep across his handsome face. Searching the countryside, he looked for signs of a pond or spring. It would be nice to while away some time fishing, and a long swim wouldn’t be bad, either. He was disappointed when he found no sign of water, but his sight did settle on a tidy little homestead in the near distance.

Then he frowned as he noticed three riders gallop over the nearest hill, reining in at the dooryard of the little house. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he watched the door open and a single figure step out onto the porch, shotgun in hand.

It was a woman.

“Ah, hell,” he muttered as he slapped Pony’s reins, turning the big gelding toward the house. He loosened his yellow-handled Colt in its holster, prepared to enter into the fight that he could almost smell in the air. As he drew near, he could hear the woman call out to the men.

“You get the hell off my property, Billy. You and your trained dogs got no right bein’ here.”

“We got every right you little bitch. I intend t’ take what’s mine,” came the response from the middle rider.

Slipping his sidearm into his hand, Larabee lifted it and shot off a round into the air. When all three pairs of eyes were trained on him, he called out, “Seems to me you boys were just invited to leave.”

“Who th’ hell are you, cowboy?”

Rankling at the term, the blond said, “I might be your worst nightmare. Now, head them horses east and get the hell out of here.”

The man farthest to the right made the mistake of reaching for his gun and Chris responded by sending a bullet through the man’s right arm. The others flinched, fear growing in their gaze. “Reckon you boys ought to get him to a doctor. Now, leave.”

They looked as if they would argue with him, but then the three horsemen turned and started away from the little house. As he moved away, the one called Billy said in a low voice, “He won’t be here forever, we’ll be back.”

“No, you won’t,” Larabee said calmly as he rode closer. Watching them pale under his heated glare, he smirked in satisfaction. Then, turning to the young woman on the porch, he tipped his hat and said, “You all right miss?”

She smiled, nodded, and fell to the wooden floor of the porch in a dead faint.

Quickly re-holstering his gun, the blond bounded from the saddle and hurried to her side. He knelt beside her, one hand reaching out to touch the pale skin of her face. She moaned softly, eyes fluttering open at his touch. The gunslinger found himself looking down into the face of an angel, green eyes the color of the sky blinked up at him, then she frowned. He saw the look of fear and said hurriedly, “It’s all right miss, I was just passing through and heard the ruckus.”

“Passing through… to where?” She asked, one thin hand reaching up to brush the long copper locks from her face.

“Four Corners. You know of it?”

Nodding, she pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Was there a year or so ago. .. pretty woolly place.” She frowned, and looked him up and down. “Heard they hired some men to clean it up. You one of ‘m?”

Smiling, he said simply, “Yeah.”

She allowed him to help her to her feet, then put out a hand, “Dev Chambers.”

Taking her hand, he couldn’t help but ask, “Dev?”

“Devorah.” She swayed, letting him steady her. “Thanks.”

“Come on, let’s get you inside. Did you get hurt?”

“No… just tired I guess. Been watching for those bastards for more than a week, barely had a wink of sleep.”

Larabee belatedly noticed the deep, dark circles beneath her eyes. He kept his arms around her, helping her back into the little house. Settling her into a rocking chair near the window, he said, “If it’s all right with you, I’ll bed my horse down.”

Dev smiled, realizing that he was telling her that he had no intention of leaving her alone. Suddenly, looking up into the hazel eyes that were set in one of the most handsome faces she had ever borne witness to, she realized that she liked that idea. Struck dumb, she simply nodded, watching her rescuer stride away.

@>---

Chris returned a short time later to find the young woman asleep in the chair. Studying the house to find the bedroom, he carefully lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He lay her on the feather mattress, slipped her shoes off, and found a quilt to spread over her. In all of it, she did not respond with more than a soft sigh as he tucked the quilt around her shoulders.

Satisfied that she was comfortable, the gunman returned to the main room. He searched through the cupboards and was soon fixing dinner. The pretty young woman did not look as if she had eaten much lately, either. Sleep was not the only thing she was deprived of.

@>---

　

Larabee was about ready to set the chicken and dumplings on the warmer and light the lanterns when he heard a soft noise from the doorway. Turning, he saw the lady of the house stumbling half-asleep into the room. Smiling, the gunman said, “thought maybe you were settled for the night.”

Grinning sheepishly, the young woman said, “My sincerest apologies Mr… um—“

“Larabee,” he prompted. “But just call me Chris. And no need to apologize.”

Nodding, she said, “Chris. I am sorry for my falling asleep like that.”

Waving her off, he replied, “You were exhausted. I’m betting you’re pretty hungry, too. Am I right?”

Crimson spreading across her face, she answered honestly, “Starved. Is that chicken and dumplings I smell?”

“Yeah. You sit down and I’ll dish them out.”

“No, for goodness sake Mr. – Chris – “

Pointing toward one of the straight back chairs, the blond said sternly, “Sit.”

Slightly taken aback, the woman stared at him. When she saw the concern and humor glitter in his eyes, she smiled and replied, “Yes, sir.”

Dishing up two plates, the gunslinger carried them to the table and sat one before her. The coffee pot and a plate of bread already awaited them. The two people sat eating in silence for several minutes. Chris couldn’t help but smile as he watched the young woman eat ravenously.

“You’re quite a cook,” Dev said finally. “Where did you learn to make chicken and dumplings?”

“Thanks,” The black clad man said softly, turning away as he continued. “My wife taught me to fix them.”

The woman watched the play of emotions across the handsome face and realized the significance of the dark clothing. Swallowing hard, she could only whisper, “I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head, Chris responded, “No need to apologize. It’s been four years now.” Frowning, he continued softly, as if talking to himself. “Four years. My lord, it doesn’t seem possible that it’s been that long. Adam would be – “

She saw him pale, his deep eyes flashing quickly in her direction. Then his gaze dropped to the plate in front of him. Dev sat quietly, afraid to speak, for fear he would stop. After several minutes his gaze leveled on some point in the distance, and he spoke, his voice like one long sigh.

“Adam, he’s my son. He’d be nine now. I can still see him standing on the porch, waving to me with one hand and clinging to his mama’s skirts with the other. And I can see Sarah… that’s my wife… waving to me as well, smiling like she always did when I’d come home.”

“You must miss them very much.”

Something in her voice made him look up. Looking into her brilliant green eyes, he recognized something. A kindred soul. “You’ve been down this road.”

Nodding, Dev said softly, “Lost my husband last year… and the baby we were gonna have.”

He felt a thick knot tighten his throat. Instinctively, he reached out, his hand covering hers. “I’m sorry.”

She gave him a tremulous smile, then dropped her head as tears rolled down her face. He simply sat there, holding her hand while she rode the wave of grief the memory of her loss brought. He thought of how agonizing it had been for him at that first horrible anniversary.

When it seemed that she would cry forever, he rose and stood behind her chair. Wrapping his arms around her quivering shoulders, he simply held her as she wept. Several more minutes passed before she slumped against him, her very essence seeming to be drained by the intense outpouring. At a loss as to what to do, he pulled her into his arms and carried her through the little house to the bedroom.

She clung to him, arms wrapped around his shoulders and her face buried against his neck. Dev could smell the heady scent of man… cigars, perspiration and whiskey. Before she realized what she was doing, she moaned softly, her lips pressing against his warm flesh. She could feel the steady pulse of his heart, which sped up in reaction to her touch.

Reaching the bed, the blond dropped to the mattress, the woman still in his arms. He lifted her head, turning her face toward him. Kissing her gently, he stroked one rough hand down the side of her beautiful face. He felt himself beginning to respond to the touch and feel of the soft body in his arms, and closed his eyes, groaning. This wasn’t right, he shouldn’t… couldn’t… “Dev.”

She reached up and stroked his stubbled jaw. His eyes opened, searching hers, and she smiled. All that she said was, “Please.”

They shouldn’t. Couldn’t. But suddenly it seemed so very right.

Standing with her still in his arms, the blond lowered the lady of the house to her feet as well. Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her gently, and began undoing the buttons of her dress. She trembled as he slowly, carefully, undressed her. When he had finished, she lay on the bed, staring up at him with open desire on her flushed face. Quickly he pulled off his own clothing, then knelt on the bed beside her.

Leaning forward, Larabee pressed his lips against hers, kissing her long and hard. His tongue traced the line of her closed mouth, coaxing it open. As her full lips parted, his tongue dipped inside, meeting hers. His hand began to explore her body, bringing gooseflesh in its wake, as he moved from her neck to her shoulder and came to rest on her breast. She moaned, the sound vibrating against his teasing tongue, as his thumb rubbed across her nipple. As the rough digit scrubbed across the sensitive flesh, the brown nub grew and hardened.

Pulling back, the blond smiled, then dipped his head once more. This time he trailed soft, hot kisses down her delicate throat, spending time suckling at the hollow where her neck curved to her shoulder before he moved farther downward. While his thumb continued to tease and excite one nipple, his mouth found the other. Taking the darkened flesh between lips and teeth, he brought that nipple erect as well.

“Oh… Chris… please… please… oh,” she moaned, her body growing tense under his ministrations.

He moved slowly downward, his hot mouth heating the flesh of her body from breast to flat belly. His tongue snaked out, tickling the puckered flesh of her navel, then moved even farther down.

Dev cried out as he coaxed her legs open, settling between her thighs as his mouth sought out the hot, moist flesh there. Her hands clawed at the mattress beneath her as he tasted the nectar of her juices.

Looking up as she cried out, he smiled wantonly as he saw the raw lust he felt mirrored on her flushed face. Shifting her slightly, he lifted her hips to his thighs and poised his throbbing cock at her opening. Watching her for any sign of hesitation, he found none. With a lust-filled groan, he entered her.

Feeling his heavy shaft slide inside her, Dev cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Her legs wrapped themselves around his back, and pulled him toward her, urging him even farther inside her.

Settling on his forearms above her, he moved his hips slowly, feeling her muscles contract and constrict around his hard cock. He leaned down, kissing her fully and deeply, their tongues dancing erotically around one another. Then he broke off the kiss, his mouth seeking out the soft flesh of her throat. She moved to allow him greater access, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she sought as much contact with the hard body covering hers as possible.

Their bodies moved in a concert of arousal and unashamed lust. They clung to one another as they struggled to make their love making last as long as possible, despite the need to bring an end to the exquisite pain. Finally Dev arched up, screaming as her juices exploded against the cock buried inside her. Even as she climaxed, Chris gave a final, fevered, thrust, his seed filling her as he orgasmed. He collapsed against her, gathering her into his arms as their bodies trembled and quivered through the throes of their love making. He rolled to his side, taking her with him. Still wrapped around her as well as hidden inside her, Larabee reached behind him and pulled the quilt over their shivering bodies. Not letting go of the young woman, he felt her slowly relax against him. Soon, they were both drifting on a tide of sated exhaustion.

@>---

Devorah woke in the darkness, wondering if it had all be a dream. She stretched, her body protesting the movement. She smiled, realizing that it had been real, after all. Frowning, she wondered where the handsome blond had gone. Slipping from the bed, she wrapped the quilt around herself and padded softly from the bedroom. Entering the main room that served as both kitchen and parlor, she found him dressed only in his black jeans, sitting in the rocking chair at the edge of the shadows, near the window.

He looked up as he heard her approach. She came closer, and he reached out to her. Taking her hand, he pulled her into his lap. She settled in with a contented sigh, nestling against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, rocking the chair slightly as he held her.

“Thought you were gone… or that it was all a dream,” She whispered against his neck.

Smiling gently, he said, “Never thought of myself as someone’s dream… always figured I was more a nightmare.” As she giggled softly, he continued, “Figured I’d better keep watch in case those fools come back around.”

He felt her tense at the mention of the three men, and whispered, “Tell me what’s going on Dev.”

In a trembling voice, she said, “They think I have something… money… that they claim is theirs.”

“Is it?”

Her tousled hair tickled his jaw as she answered, “No. It’s not here, and it doesn’t belong to them. It belongs to Wells Fargo… it was stolen just over a year ago.”

“A year?” He stopped rocking, tilting his head to look down at her. “Your husband.”

He felt hot tears splash against his chest as she said, “Yes. Andrew… Andrew got caught up in their scheme. Things were bad… we had no money, and we had a baby coming. Billy, Daniel and Arthur… the three you chased off… came to him with a plan to rob the stage.

“I begged him not to do it… Chris, I did. Please believe me,” She pleaded.

“Sh, I do,” He said softly, one hand stroking through her thick hair.

After a few minutes, Dev continued. “He wouldn’t listen to me, though. He kept saying he wanted more for our baby… wanted him or her to have more than we could give them. So… so he rode off with them.

“I didn’t see him for three days. It was during those three days that I first felt our baby move inside me. I was so excited but… but at the same time… I was so… so scared.”

She broke down, sobbing against the broad chest. Larabee held her close, resting his cheek against the top of her head as he began to rock once again.

“I heard him ride up,” she said in a washed out voice some time later. “It was the middle of the night… and he didn’t come in for the longest time. I… I just lay there in bed, angry and relieved, and scared, and… I don’t know. I think I felt every emotion there is to feel. And I just lay there.

“Finally I heard the door open. Then I heard him call out to me. I went to him then… but… h-he was… he was laying there,” she reached out a trembling hand, pointing toward a spot on the floor. “He was covered in blood… sweat… he was shaking so hard I half expected him to come apart.”

Once again her story was halted as the young woman broke down, sobbing heart-brokenly as the memories battered her. Larabee simply held her, rocking, offering her compassion, support… offering her himself. Finally she shifted, sighed, and took up her tale.

“I managed to get him in to the bed… I did everything I could to get the bleeding to stop. He had been shot three times… my lord, I never knew a person had so much blood! My best wasn’t enough though, and we both knew it.

“He asked me to forgive him for being so foolish. He told me that they had been set up… they found themselves coming up against a dozen guns or more. He managed to… to get away, but it didn’t matter.” Heaving a deep, tortured sigh, she added, “Then he told me how much he loved me… and he died.

“I dug his grave myself, the next day. I sewed him into his shroud… dragged his body to the grave… and buried him. I had no one to help… I wanted no one to help.

“That night the pains began… and the next day I lost… I lost the baby.

“Soldiers came a few days later… looking for Andrew. I showed them his grave, but they didn’t believe me. I stood there, watching them dig him back up. When they were satisfied, they dumped him back into the grave. They started to fill it back in, but I screamed at them… told them to get off my property.

“And I buried him myself… a second time.”

The gunman groaned softly at the thought of the young woman, struggling under such loss alone. He tilted her head back, gently kissing her forehead tenderly. “I am so sorry, Dev… I wish… wish – “

She pressed her fingers against his lips. “Sh. It’s all right.”

“No,” he said sincerely, “No… it’s not.”

Sighing, she snuggled against him, drawing strength from him so that she could continue her tale. “I found out later that they had captured the others, and they were sent to prison. I’m not certain what happened, but they showed up here a last week, demanding the money from the robbery. They swore that… that Andrew had ridden away with it.

“I tried to get them to believe me… Chris I have no idea what happened to that money. They wouldn’t believe me, though. They said they’d come back for the money. That’s why I hadn’t slept… or eaten… for days. I was so afraid, Chris!”

“Sh,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her hair. “I’m here now, Dev, and I’m not going to let them hurt you. It’s gonna be okay.”

Once again she broke down, sobbing raggedly as she lay in his arms. He held her gently, rocking her until, finally, she calmed. When she finally drifted to sleep, he rose with her still in his arms, and carried her back to her bed.

@>---

The first rays of the morning sun found the gunman once again settled in the rocking chair. He had pulled on the rest of his clothes, and sat with his guns in his lap. As the faint sound of approaching horses grew louder, he didn’t seem to notice. But, one look at his wary eyes gave a different story. They narrowed and fairly glittered as the gunman listened to the visitors approach. As they pulled up in front of the little house, he stood and padded to the door. Opening it, he stepped onto the porch, his Colt tucked in his waistband and his rifle held casually in his hands. “Thought I invited you boys to stay clear of this place.”

Frowning, the one called Billy growled, “Don’t see why you’d think we’d listen to a trail bum.”

With a cold smile that sent shivers through the three men before him, the blond said, “Ain’t a trail bum… and I’m gonna say it just once more. Get off the lady’s property and stay off. What you’re looking for isn’t here, so clear out.”

Laughing nervously, the leader of the foolish band said, “And I’m supposed to take your word for that? How stupid to I look, mister?”

“You don’t really want me to answer that, do you?”

If he noticed the cool manner of the blond, or the weapons held easily in his hands, the incompetent outlaw gave no indication. He glared at the man on the porch and said, “Awful sure a yerself, ain’t y’… cowboy?”

As the man spoke, he drew his gun. Before the sidearm had cleared leather, Chris fired. The one named Billy fell back, sliding over the rump of his horse to land in a heap on the ground. His men watched him fall with looks of shock, then turned to face the man who had killed their friend. One drew his sidearm while the other, the one who had been wounded the day before, pulled his awkwardly. Between the two of them they fired several rounds, but it did little good. By the time the last echo died, both lay in pools of their own blood, dead or dying.

Standing at the front door, Chris Larabee looked at the carnage with grim satisfaction. Then he grimaced and dropped to his knees. Reaching up, he pressed a hand against his shoulder. Drawing it back, he groaned as he found his palm covered with blood.

“Chris!”

He turned as if in the middle of a dream, seeing Dev running to him, heedless of the fact she had nothing on. He smiled wanly, then dropped to the porch, unconscious.

@>---

Pain drew his attention away from the dark coolness of unconsciousness, toward the feverish throb of awareness. With a groan, he managed to pry grit-roughened eyes open, struggling then to focus his gaze. Taking a deep breath, he vowed that would be his last, as the pain soared to new heights. Through a clenched jaw, he hissed, “shit.”

“Lay still,” The soft voice of an angel came to him.

“Dev,” He sighed, spotting the young woman nearby.

Smiling, the lady of the house said, “Thought you were gonna sleep ‘til tomorrow sunup.”

He managed a smile, the tip of his tongue sliding along his parched lips. “How… how long?”

Her smile faded, “since sunup… about fourteen hours I think.”

Memory suddenly slammed him awake, and he struggled to rise. “Those… those m-men.”

Pressing him back to the bed, she said, “They’re dead. You killed them all Chris… thank you. You… you saved my life.”

The gunman relaxed, slowly drifting back into unconsciousness once more. Devorah sighed, relieved that he had come to finally. She reached for the rag soaking in the basin of water, squeezed it out, and stroked it across the handsome, feverish, face. Larabee sighed but remained asleep as she ran the cooling cloth down his throat and across the broad shoulders. Mindful of the bandaged shoulder, she continued to work her way down the muscular body to where the sheet rested low across his hips. She felt her own temperature rise as she contemplated what lay beneath the rough muslin covering.

She could still feel him touching her… could feel him surrounding her outside and filling her inside. She moaned as her body responded to those memories. Licking suddenly dry lips, she looked up and noticed with a start that she was being observed. The man who had come to her rescue smiled, then drifted back to sleep. Blushing furiously, she wet the cloth again and fought to focus her attention on bringing him comfort. Chancing a look at the sheets once more, she smiled as she saw a tell-tale bulge tenting the sheet upward.

@>---

Chris moved in and out of the shadows of sleep for the next day and a half. Dev spent most of the time nearby, watching him from the rocking chair she had dragged into the room. He muttered in his sleep from time to time, whispered words that she couldn’t understand. When he roused to eat or take care of other needs, he was still groggy thanks to the wound, blood loss, and the fever she couldn’t quite get to break.

“Dev?”

“Hello,” she said softly as half-lidded hazel eyes regarded her wearily. “How’re you feeling?”

“Been better,” He said honestly. “Been worse.”

Smiling, she said, “Hope the ‘better’ times have been more frequent than the ‘worse’.”

With a chuckle, the blond said, “So far.” Then he grunted as, trying to push himself up, he jarred his injured shoulder.

Devorah hurriedly came to his side, steadying him, while she stacked the pillows behind him. Settling him back, she straightened the covers. “You need to take it easy, Chris, you don’t want to start bleeding again.”

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly, closing his eyes as the room spun wickedly around him. Then he sighed as felt something soft and cool caress his face. When his body finally stopped its protests, he managed to open his eyes. The clear green ones looking back at him were filled with concern. “I’m okay… Dev. Honest. I wasn’t lying… I’ve been worse.”

Her smile returned as she said, “I figured as much, considering the scars.”

With a lopsided grin, he said, “Reckon it's not a pretty sight.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that!” She blushed as she realized how her voice rose to little more than a girlish squeal.

Eyes glittering with amusement, the gunman chose to remain silent. He lay against the pillows and slipped back into a half doze. He heard her moving around, then leaving the room. He drifted for a while before hearing her return. The sound of something heavy being settled on the bed table brought him back to wakefulness.

“Hoped you’d still be awake. Thought I’d see if you wanted something to eat.”

“Yeah… thanks,” He said softly.

She settled the tray on his lap, placing a bowl and mug so that he could reach them without moving his left arm. She retrieved a second bowl and mug from the tray, she settled back in the rocker, eating quietly while she kept an eye on the injured man. Neither of them felt the need to make conversation, just enjoying the nearness of the other person.

Finishing the stew and coffee Larabee settled back with a contented sigh. He barely registered the fact that Dev took the tray away, drifting once more into semi-consciousness. One corner of his wide mouth quirked up as she ran the cloth over his lips and chin. “Am I that messy?”

Laughing softly, the young woman said, “No, not really.”

Something in her tone caused him to open his eyes once more. He looked into her face and saw the same thing he wanted reflected there. “Dev – “

Pressing her fingers against his lips, she said, “Sh. We can… I can… just let me take care of it. All right?”

His smile returned, and he simply nodded.

She undressed slowly, trembling fingers causing her to fumble as she unfastened the buttons of her dress. Finally she stood before him, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow along the curves of her body. On hand ran lightly along her flesh, from just between her full breasts to just above the thatch of golden red hair between her legs. Her lips parted, the tip of her tongue flicking along the surface, then disappearing as she moaned softly.

Stepping to the bed, she slid the covers down, pushing them over the foot. Her eyes roamed along the strong body that lay on the mattress. Long, muscular legs and thighs blended to tight, narrow hips and waist. Then came the tight, taut muscles of his belly, growing slightly wider as they blended to his broad chest and wide shoulders. The long strong neck moved with a play of muscles as he swallowed. Finally her eyes drank in the sight of the wide, handsome face. Wide sensuous mouth, cheekbones tinted crimson with excitement, slightly blunted nose, soulful eyes that were at once wise and guileless. The thatch of thick, dark blond hair fell messily across his forehead.

She moaned.

Climbing onto the bed, she straddled his hips. Reaching down, she opened herself with one hand, while the other sought his thick, swollen shaft. Wrapping her fingers around the throbbing cock, she sighed as her touch elicited a startled gasp from the man beneath her. Lifting herself, she pressed the head of his cock into her flesh, then slid slowly down the shaft until she sat against his hips. With a whispered cry, she steadied herself on the mattress as she began to slide back up the thick muscle. Pushing herself back down, she groaned as she continued the fevered movements. They came faster and faster as her need grew more and more pressing.

Pressed tight against the mattress, Larabee cried out as her movements carried him quickly toward the edge. He gripped her hip with his right hand as he thrust upward, causing her to cry out now, her back arching as she responded to his movements. Then, some part of her mind recalling his condition, she pressed her hands against his hips to still him.

Finally, both of them felt that sudden stillness as their bodies gathered for the final rush of pure lust. Then came twin explosions, as both the man and the woman quivered and trembled through the throes of orgasm. As their bodies slowly quieted, Devorah carefully lifted herself from the shivering man, climbing wearily from the bed. She washed the remnants of their lovemaking from Chris’ body, then covered him to warm him against the coming chill as his body relaxed. Smiling, she realized that he had drifted off to sleep all ready. Gently she removed all but one pillow, settling the lightly snoring man back on the bed. Tucking the covers around the broad shoulders, she tenderly kissed him before going to clean herself up.

@>---

　

Chris spent another three days convalescing in the young widow’s home. They found themselves in one another’s arms from time to time, although neither of them held any delusions that there was anything long-lasting in their relationship. They were two people seeking comfort in another’s embrace, nothing more.

Then came the morning that found Larabee sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee. Devorah came from the bedroom and took in the fact that he was fully dressed. His left arm was tucked inside his shirt, but otherwise it was difficult to tell that he had been injured at all.

“You’re going.”

He nodded. “I’ll take the bodies with me… no use in you having to deal with them.”

She smiled, a glint of something in her expression that he was hard-pressed to identify. “You don’t need to worry about them. They’re taken care of.”

He frowned curiously. “Dev? What – “

“I burned them… made a helluva a bonfire.”

“What if I had needed the bodies for the law?”

Shrugging without remorse, the woman said, “I didn’t know when… or if… you’d be strong enough to take them away, and I wasn’t about to take the time to bury them. It was either that, or let them lay in the barn and rot.”

Sighing, shaking his head at the woman’s logic, the blond said only, “Okay.”

Smiling, she went to the larder and brought out the makings of breakfast. She busied herself preparing their last meal together, not turning when he left the house to get his gelding ready. By the time he returned, she not only had a huge offering of food on the table, but was putting the finishing touches on sandwiches for his trip.

He sat down, surveying the laden table. “You invite the nearest town over?”

Her smile wavering, the redhead said, “I didn’t want you leaving here on an empty stomach.”

“Hell, if I eat only a quarter of this I’ll break my horse’s back.”

Giggling, the woman said, “Well, I’ve got a draft horse in the barn, if you don’t want to risk that beautiful gelding of yours.”

Taking a slab of baked ham onto his plate, and spooning out a healthy portion of scrambled eggs, the gunman said, “I might take you up on that.”

They found themselves lingering over breakfast, neither wishing to bring their time to an end. Chris ate more than he had for days, feeling his stomach pressing comfortably against his black shirt. He sighed and leaned back in the chair, looking over to see her watching him with an amused expression.

“That was wonderful. Thank you.”

“Little enough for what you’ve been through for me. Chris, I – “

He shook his head, “Don’t, Dev. Are you certain you want to stay here?”

They had spoken at length about her future. He had tried to convince her to abandon the little farm and return to Four Corners with him. He promised to set her up somewhere closer to town, or to send her back East where her family still lived. The young woman refused every offer, just as she did now.

“Chris, this is my home. Andrew and I… we had plans for a future here. I haven’t given up on those dreams.”

“But, out here, alone – “

“You destroyed the only threat I’ve had since we came here. I want to stay here, Chris. This is my home.”

With a sigh, he nodded. “I’ll come back to see you… whenever I can.”

She smiled, “I hope so.”

They said little more. She brought in a pale blue scarf and made a sling of it, helping him settle his injured arm more comfortably inside it. She walked with him to where his horse stood, waiting patiently. Settling the bundle she handed him, on the pommel, he turned and gently stroked a hand down her face. Looking deeply into her eyes, he smiled wanly.

“I’ll be back, I promise. And I never break a promise.”

With tears filling her emerald eyes, the young woman said, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Kissing her passionately, he had to pull himself away before he lost his resolve to leave. Climbing into the saddle, he settled with a soft groan. He figured it would take him the rest of the day and part of the next to get to town, but knew he would be missed by now. Looking down at the beautiful young woman, he tipped his hat to her.

“See you soon.”

She raised her hand , waving as he turned the black horse and rode slowly away. She didn’t move until horse and rider had disappeared over the far hills. Tears streamed down her face, but she knew the decision was right.

And he had promised to return. Someday.

　

The End

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August, 2002