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Buck Wilmington nursed his third whiskey, while pondering his best course of action. It was unlike him to be indecisive, but he was facing a real problem. Chris was his oldest friend, and JD aside, no one meant more to him. However, Vin Tanner was also a friend. He had owed his life to the slender tracker on more than one occasion. It was hard to have to betray him.Normally Buck would have agreed with the old cliché ‘All’s fair in love and war’ and would have left them to it, but found he could not do so. What he had seen kept coming back to play on his mind. Vin should have known better. Hadn’t the Charlotte Richmond incident taught the young idiot anything? Chris had lost so much when his wife and child died, that he deserved to find some happiness, and if Buck had anything to do with it, he would.
Having at last made his decision, he went in search of Larabee. The gunslinger was just coming out of the jail. “Chris, I’d like to talk to ya about somethin’.”
“Yeah, what?”
“Well … um … c-can we go somewhere private?”
Larabee noticed the hesitation in his friend’s voice and wondered what could be coming as Buck usually exuded confidence. “Where?”
“My room.”
The gunslinger nodded.
A few minutes later they were in the aforesaid room. “Drink?” Buck offered, trying to put off what he had to say as long as possible as he knew Larabee had a volcanic temper.
“No, thanks. Ya smell like ya have had a few too many already,” he added. “What’s so important that ya have to see me in secret?”
“I know it ain’t none of my damned business, Chris, but I think ya should know that Vin’s wanderin’ where he shouldn’t oughta.”
“Huh? What are ya on about, Buck?” a bemused Chris queried.
Wilmington ran a nervous tongue over dry lips and said, “He’s sniffin’ round Mrs Travis.”
“What exactly do ya mean by that?” Chris demanded, his voice deadly quiet.
“He’s been visitin’ her place early evenin’ all this week. He’s been really sneaky about it. JD spotted him last Tuesday and asked me what was goin’ on, so I’ve kept watch since.”
“Damn him!” Chris snarled, his features twisted with fury.
Seeing the gunslinger’s extreme anger, Buck wondered if he’d made the right decision in speaking up. “Go easy, Chris, there might be a reasonable explanation for his visitin’. Give him a chance to …”
The gunslinger interrupted, “I’ll give him the back of my hand! D’ya know where he is at present?”
“At the livery, I think, but Chris don’t …”
However, Larabee was already out the door and clattering down the stairs.
Buck sat down heavily on his bed. He had a sinking feeling that he had made a very wrong decision.
Larabee stormed along the street to the livery. Those who saw his approach, and observed the murderous rage suffusing his sardonically handsome face, hurriedly stepped aside.
Meanwhile, Vin Tanner was humming contentedly to himself and happily brushing Peso. Life had been good to him lately. He had loved from a distance for months and had never thought he would be lucky enough to have his regard returned. Yet recently the object of his affection seemed to be at last showing definite signs of interest, if quick touches and comments bordering on flirtatious could be so interpreted. Unable to accept his good fortune as real, he had ventured to ask Ezra’s opinion and Standish had admitted he had observed the by-play and was certain Vin was in luck.
Knowing the gambler’s skill in reading people, Vin had been vastly heartened. He had hugged Ezra’s comments to him and life had taken on a very rosy glow, as each day seemed to bring a closer relationship with his love. He wondered if he should take the first step and make an open declaration, but with no real experience of love in his life, he was too cautious. What if he and the gambler were both misreading the situation?
However, that did not stop him from dreaming. Indeed, he was so lost in pleasant contemplation that he failed to hear Chris’ approach until the door was flung open crashing back into the wall.
He jumped with shock and automatically grabbed for his mare’s leg, only to stop in his tracks when he saw it was Chris. “God, cowboy, are ya tryin’ to scare me to death?” he asked, lowering the weapon.
“Put that down and come here!” Larabee demanded curtly.
“Why? What’s wrong, Chris?” Vin asked, in concern, seeing the harsh set to his face.
“I said ‘Come here’!”
Tanner looked at him and actually had the urge to back away, but managed to stand his ground. “Why?” he asked quietly, hoping his voice was steady.
“Because I damn well gave ya an order.”
“I ain’t yer servant,” Vin retorted, blue eyes blazing defiantly.
Larabee advanced on the smaller man, his face was dark with rage at this contumacy. He snaked out an arm and his hand locked so tightly about Vin’s right wrist that it almost stopped the flow of blood and the gun fell from the tracker’s hand. Then he turned on his heel, jerking Vin after him and out onto the street.
The tracker could feel his fingers growing numb. “Chris, please!” he protested, trying in vain to break the brutal grip. Unable to stop his inexorable progress, without making a major scene, he stumbled after his captor.
He was literally dragged through the door of the boarding-house and up the stairs to the gunslinger’s room. Larabee kicked the door open and pushed Vin inside, slamming the door behind him. As he did so, he shoved the tracker hard, simultaneously releasing Vin’s suffering wrist.
Caught off-balance, Vin fell to his knees. Larabee stood over him glaring down menacingly at him. “What the hell do ya think yer playin’ at?” he demanded.
The tracker stared at him, still mystified. “I dunno what yer talkin' about, Chris,” he observed and started to scramble to his feet.
Larabee grabbed his shoulders and forced him back down. “Stay right where ya are, Vin!”
However, now out of the sight of prying eyes, Vin was no longer prepared to submit tamely to such abuse. In answer, he dived at the gunslinger’s black-clad legs, bearing him backwards to the floor, and followed this up by flinging himself upon Larabee.
That was a mistake. Vin would have been better advised to make for the door. Steely arms wrapped around him, trapping his arms and crushing him against Larabee’s broad chest. Unable to match the gunslinger’s strength, Vin could not break free no matter how much he struggled and cursed.
Then Larabee gave a sudden twist and the tracker found himself flat on his back with the gunslinger on top of him. He wrenched his right wrist around so it bent Larabee’s thumb back and Chris lost his grip. Then Vin hit out at his assailant, catching him in the chest, but with so little room to maneuver his blow lacked force.
The gunslinger swore and moved his right knee to trap Vin’s left wrist. With two hands available, he easily recaptured Vin’s free hand. He dragged it above Vin’s head and held it there. Then he grabbed Vin’s other hand and pinned it there as well. Vin was struggling hard, bucking his body against Chris, but could not budge the larger man.
“I can sit here all damned day if needs be, Tanner,” the gunslinger warned, “so ya might as well lie still.”
Vin was all too aware of his friend’s stubbornness. He looked up at Larabee’s stony face. Around Chris’ mouth a rim of white betokened his grim fury. Clearly, Larabee was in a killing mood, but for the life of him the tracker could not think how he had transgressed.
He swallowed his pride and tried another tack. “I’m sorry, Chris,” he muttered. He had clearly done something that had greatly upset the gunslinger, and whatever it was, he was sorry for it. He hated to be at odds with Chris at any time, but had never had the full blast of the notorious Larabee wrath directed at him before. Sure Chris had got mad with him lots of times, but nothing like this and it tore at his heart.
“And so ya fuckin’ well should be. I should give ya’ a damn good thrashin’,”
“Are ya goin’ to?” Vin whispered in trepidation, knowing the gunslinger was not one to issue idle threats.
“Maybe, I ain’t decided yet.” As he spoke, he let go of Vin’s hands and stood up, hauling the tracker after him by his shirtfront. “Ya got any excuses?”
“Dunno,” Vin responded, surreptitiously rubbing his aching right wrist.
“What do ya mean ya ‘dunno’?” Larabee demanded in exasperation.
“Ya ain’t told me what I done yet.”
“It’s too late to play innocent with me, Tanner, but if I must spell it out for ya, I’m told ya have been callin’ on Mary Travis.”
“Who says?” Vin prevaricated.
“That don’t matter. Ya were seen.”
“What if I was? Can’t I go visitin’ a friend?”
“You visitin’ a friend every night! You bein’ a friend to a woman!” Chris commented disbelievingly. Generally Vin seemed painfully tongue-tied around women, but perhaps attraction had overridden shyness.
“Why can’t I be friendly with a woman? Hell, I go to Nettie Wells’ place lotsa times and ya ain’t complained about that.” That was true. Vin often helped the elderly woman with the heavier or more arduous ranch-work.
“And what ‘chores’ does Mrs Travis have ya doin’? Rollin’ her knittin’? Sewin’? Warmin’ her damned bed?”
Vin’s mouth dropped open. “Ya ain’t got no cause to say things like that about her, Larabee,” he protested. “I thought ya liked her.”
“What I think about her’s got nothin’ to do with it.”
Vin stared at him in confusion. Then the penny dropped. “Yer jealous!” he exclaimed wonderingly.
“And what if I am?” the gunslinger demanded huffily.
The tracker’s beautiful, blue eyes shone and a devastating smile curved his shapely lips. He looked right into the gunslinger’s eyes. Never had he seen such passion as he saw in those green depths. “Ya love me!” he whispered exultantly. “Ya do, don’t ya? And ya always have,” he added with happy certainty. “Just as I loved ya the very first moment I saw ya.”
Larabee tried to adopt one of his self-protective glares, but could not manage it in the face of such blazing love. Sighing at his weakness, he pulled Vin into his arms and sought his lips.
Much later, when a sated tracker was lying in the arms of an equally satisfied gunslinger, the former whispered, “Can I ask ya somethin’, Chris?”
“Sure,” Larabee murmured sleepily, wondering what was coming.
“Would ya mind very much if I keep visitin’ Mrs Travis?”
Stunned, Larabee came wide-awake. “Why do ya still want to go there?” he asked, tersely, fighting down the jealousy which even hours of loving had not laid to rest.
“I still would like to be able to learn to read, Chris. She is a good teacher, ya know. But I won’t go iffen ya don’t want me to,” he added quickly, uncertain what Chris’ reaction would be.
So all was clear at last. Larabee inwardly berated himself as he considered his folly in jumping to conclusions, but quickly reflected that his so-called mistake had worked out damned well. “Ya go, Vin, but all yerlove letters better have my name on them, cowboy.”
THE END