Sequel to To Tell You the Truth - I
He doesn't remember. I can't seem to forget. Sounds like a line from one of those damn dime novels JD is so crazy about. But it aint. It's the way things have been since we woke up in that godforsaken shack nearly three weeks ago.I was already up and dressed by the time he got around to opening his eyes that next day. I didn't know what was going to happen or what we'd say. But I did know that, whatever it was, I'd feel a whole lot better about it if at least one of us had our clothes on.
Everything was still damp and cold but I didn't see how that could possibly make me any more uncomfortable. In fact, it was almost a relief to have something else besides my own emotional turmoil making me miserable. I wandered around the shack aimlessly, packing and repacking our meager possessions. Part of me wished desperately that Vin would wake the hell up so we could settle this. One way or another. A more cowardly part of me hoped he would sleep all day so I wouldn't have to face him just yet. I still had no idea what to say. How to explain. Hell. Maybe he could explain it to me. I couldn't even claim being drunk. It would take more than 1/3 a bottle to get me liquored up. And everyone knows it. Vin's the one that was whiskey soaked last night. How's he going to react when he wakes up and remembers that his best friend took advantage of that state? And that I want nothing more than to do it over and over again? Best damn sex I ever had there, pard. Yeah. How would I react? God. For the first time since we'd met, I honestly had no idea what Vin would think.
Finally, I walked over and sat down at the edge of our makeshift bed. I looked down at him, remembering the feel of those hands on my body. Slightly rough, they were very different from the soft, perfumed hands of the women I'd known. They'd felt better on me than anyone but Sarah's... No. I refused to finish that thought. I gazed at his lips. They'd explored every inch of me. Surprising me with their softness. I remembered the look in those blue eyes as I'd sank into his welcoming heat. Ok. That was enough, Chris Larabee. I would just hope that Vin attributed everything to whiskey and stress and we could get on with our lives. No good could come of wishing for things to be any different. I ordered myself to get rid of that traitorous thought.
I had closed my eyes, feeling about a hundred years old and weary to the bone, when I heard a familiar drawl.
"Mornin' Chris." Vin's low voice contained an echo of underlying pain.
I opened my eyes slowly, dreading the look I was sure I'd see on his face. A look of betrayal. A look of revulsion. I forced myself to meet that blue gaze. I couldn't decipher the look I saw in those eyes. I cast around for something to say. A place to start.
"Uh...Mornin', Vin. How...How are you feeling?" This was even more difficult than I'd expected.
Well, aside from feelin' like I came out the loser in a fight with a freak storm, I reckon I'm alright." Vin's laugh turned into a groan midway through. "Damn. My head feels like it was on the receivin' end of an ornery mule kick."
"Vin.." I began, but he continued on, oblivious to my feeble attempt to explain.
"What the hell happened last night? The last thing I remember is sittin' on the floor over there tryin' to take my damn boots off."
I just stared at him in shock. This was the one thing I'd never expected. Last night had been so intense that it had never crossed my mind he might not remember. I knew I should be thanking my lucky stars, but instead, all I felt was a fierce, unreasoning anger. How dare he sit there and look at me with nothing more than a headache weighing on his mind and soul? How could he have forgotten what had passed between us just last night, in that very spot where he still lay? Even now, I could hear the little moans he made in the back of his throat whenever I touched him echo in my mind. For a brief moment, I thought maybe this was his way of handling last night, but I quickly dismissed the notion. That wasn't Vin's way. Besides, he was a lousy liar. Now if this had been Ezra...
I was abruptly aware of a hand being placed on my knee. Giving it a gentle shake, Vin asked "Hey there, cowboy. You ok?"
I lurched to my feet, desperate to escape the touch of that hand. If only I could escape the feelings his touch conjured up that easily.
"I'm fine." I replied shortly. I didn't trust myself to say anything further.
"So, you plan on fillin' me in about last night? Or do I have to guess?" Vin had sat up and wrapped the blanket around him for warmth as he spoke.
I stood there, gazing down at him. My best friend. He'd accomplished with one look what even Buck, my oldest friend, had failed to do. He'd made me give a damn again. About him. About myself. About life. I thought of the other five men, no doubt forming a search party right about now. How would they feel if they knew about last night? And what about Mary Travis and Billy? There were so many others to consider now. For a long time, there had been only me. I didn't want to go back to that.
"You can tell me the truth, pard." Vin's voice broke into my thoughts. "What did I do? Burn supper?" His voice held a teasing note.
The truth? To tell you the truth might destroy our friendship. At the very least, it would never be the same. Even if, by some miracle, you wanted me the way I now want you...I'm afraid. Me. Chris Larabee. Afraid to lose anything more. Afraid to tell you the truth about last night and let you make your own decision. Afraid to know what that decision might be.
I can feel you staring at me, worry starting to cloud those blue eyes. I force a smile that feels more like a grimace. "Naw. Drank all my whiskey. You can make it up to me when we get home." I pray he doesn't ask me anything more.
"Well, that would explain my headache." he says with a rueful smile. Getting to his feet, he starts to reach for his clothes.
"I'll go check on the horses." One glimpse of that bare skin and I'm falling to pieces. It was going to be a long ride home.
We've been back for going on three weeks now. Vin still doesn't remember. There are times I envy him. The memory of that night is burned into my soul like a brand. Just one of the many scars I've collected there. Some days it's easier than others. Did I do the right thing? Probably not. But I still have my best friend at my side. And the rest of my newfound "family" is around as well. I guess I'm just not a gambler at heart. What I have right now will have to be enough.
THE END