I just want to check on him. Yes, that's my intention, to see if he has healed. It has nothing to do with this crazed notion I have in my head to hold him really close and check over every inch of his body to see if he's okay. Really. Mr. Tanner and the others aren't very informative about just what exactly happened to Chris Larabee. All I know is that he's been hurt and that he's under Nathan's care.
So, I pace my office. It's been two days and I still haven't seen Mr. Lara-- Chri-- Mr. sigh Let's just settle on Chris shall we? It's been two days and I still haven't seen how Chris is. I don't know how to approach the man. Or even if I want to. I was worried sick when he was late coming back to town. Of course, Mr. Wilmington's little comment about "fun" hadn't help either. I don't know why that thought bothered me so much.
I knew from before that Chris found his own "entertainment" with the business with Wickes and Lydia and all. It's just that it bothered me more and more with each passing day I spent with Chris Larabee in town. I just don't understand what's wrong with me. Then, came the final straw, Chris was in trouble and the others rode off to rescue him. All I could do was sit and wait, sit and wait, sit and wait. God, I worried more about him than almost anyone else on this earth.
I comtemplated the possibility that Chris might turn up dead. I still pale at the thought. I don't know what I would've done if Chris really had died. It would've been... unthinkable.
So, I think about other things instead. Like whether or not I should visit Chris or not.
I start to head for the door, but turned back. I start for it again, and the door opens before I could touch the knob. It was Mr. Tanner. He tips his hat to me as usual. "Morning, Miz Travis."
"Good morning, Mr. Tanner," I greet back.
"Goin' some place?" He stares at me with those clear blue eyes of his and I feel as if all my barracades are being ripped away and my soul is bare for him to see. I wonder how he did it, and I wonder if he would be willing to teach it to me so I can use it on Chris sometime.
"Ah, no place in particular," I answer, but he already knows that I'm lying. And I know he knows. Desperate to change the subject, I come up with an awfully stupid question, "What are you doing here, Mr. Tanner?"
"Just checkin' on how you're doin', that's all," Vin smiles at me.
"Fine, thank you."
Uncomfortable silence fell.
"I guess I should be goin' now, and let you do your things," Vin excuses himself, tips his hat once more, and left.
Great, now I'm back to square one.
Okay, I've made up my mind, I'm going to see Chris Larabee no matter what. I check the time, and realize that Chris was usually at the saloon at this hour. Heck, he's at the saloon at all hours. Then, I remember Nathan telling him to take it easy with the alcohol for a few days. Thank you, Nathan!
I reach for the knob again and twist it open. I step out onto the sidewalk and got the lights scared out of me when I bump into Vin.
"Oh, Mr. Tanner!" I cry out.
"Sorry," Vin apologizes, but don't look as if he meant it though. He has this amused little smile on his face. Strange. "If you're lookin' for Chris, he's restin' in his room."
Ah, that's the reason for the smile.
"Thank you, but I don't think I should be disturbing Mr. Larabee if he's resting."
Whatever happened to the 'no matter what'?!
Vin's still got that smile on. "I think he can make some time for you, Miz Travis," and with that, he's gone. Damn that man! Argh! Damn myself for being so transparent! Well, there's no turning back. Vin knows. I straighten my shoulder and head for the boarding house.
I step up the stairs tentatively, my mind crying out to me that I'm being too bold, stepping up to a man's room. But I head on despite such a voice. I've done bolder deeds in the past. There, the door's right ahead of me. I knock softly on the door, then harder when there's no answer. I don't know why, but I tried for the knob. The door's unlocked.
The door creaked as I push it inwards. I peek in, but the room is dark. The curtains are undrawn though, and light filtered in through the dirty windows. I step further into the room until I'm fully in. Then I froze when I see who the light has illuminated. The door slowly creaked back to place, but never closed.
Chris Larabee laid sleeping on his bed with a perfect stream of light illuminating his face. My breath caught in my throat as I stare at his sleeping figure. He looks so at peace. I've never seen him like this before, no tension in his countenance and even though his eyes are closed, I could tell that the storms have ceased in those green eyes, for now. The sensible part of me whispers that Chris wouldn't appreciate waking up to see me standing here. Another part of me, the daring part, wants Chris to wake up and find me staring.
I can't move. I just can't help but gaze upon his handsome feature. I catch myself at the thought, but I can't help but acknowledge that this man sleeping there is absolutely gorgeous. His blonde hair has tumbled across his forehead again and my heart thunders just a little faster. One of his callused hands is tossed casually over his head while the other laid across his stomach. His long legs, clad in those tight denim, stretch themselves down the length of the bed. He had unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons of his shirt before tossing himself to sleep. I can see the gentle rise of his chest as he breathed.
God, he looks so handsome!
I move closer to his sleeping form until I'm right up against the bed. I stare down at him and wonder how we manage to meet. I ponder at how Chris Larabee managed to drop kicking and screaming into my lap. Was it fortune, luck or chance? Am I give a second chance at things? As I think of that I realize with a start that I do care very much for the blonde haired gunslinger slumbering before me. I care so much that... that, I'm-- am I? Am I really? Is he?
Is this love that I'm feeling for Chris Larabee right now? What else do you call this tenderness I feel towards him? What other label can you stick to this longing for him? I want to be able to touch him, but Chris rarely touched anyone. He came the closest to Vin, but that's friendship. I want friendship too, with Chris Larabee, but I want more than just that, I want much much more. And I realize with a sinking heart that he might not feel the same way. What if he doesn't? What would I do then? How can I face him day after day with this feeling in my heart? Would he be able to tell? If he knows, would he leave? That would horrendous for me to face, for him to leave.
I'm so engrossed in thought that I almost didn't notice his golden lashes fluttering, his eyes opening to see me standing there over him. Chris isn't fully awake yet, he's still groggy, I can still make a clean getaway. But I don't want to leave.
"Mar-- Mary?" Chris asks.
I nod at him. "Yes, it's me."
He furrows his eyebrows together. "What're you doin' here?"
"I just came to see how you were," I answer.
Something came over his eyes then. Something like that storm trying to start up once again, but couldn't somehow. "I'm-- I'm fine, thanks."
I smile at him. "That's good to hear. I was worried."
"You were?" He stares at me, but it isn't like Vin's stare at all. Vin could see through me, but Chris' stare is uncertain.
"Yes, I was. I was very worried about you... Chris." I've never used his first name before, I just realize. At least, never without some anger attached to it.
Chris seems to have notice this fact also as he began to sit up. He never took his eyes off me as he did so. Something changed then. The storm sputtered and died. "I'm fine now, Mary."
Mary. He said my name in such a strange tone of voice. Mary.
"Thank you," he said all of a sudden.
"Why?"
"For visiting."
It is then that he smiled at me. Not the threatening one he uses on criminals, not the grim one he offers on grim situations, not the hollow little smile that never reached his eyes.
This one's real, as real as real could get. His beautiful green eyes sparkles in agreement.
I reach out for him. I reach out and touched his face. I reach out and placed my hand against his face. And never did he flinch or move away.
"You're welcome."
The End
