TWO
Having made his decision, he spent the day in hiding. He wanted to return to Four Corners to collect his small pile of possessions. The items, including his mother's Bible and an eagle feather from his time with the Indians, would have meant nothing to anyone else, but Vin treasured them.He had figured that the best time to do this would be at dusk. Most folks would be eating their evening meal and he could slip in and out of the livery unseen. That would avoid awkward explanations and uncomfortable leave-taking.
However, that plan had been thwarted by the gambler's out-of-character emergence from the saloon. Normally Ezra stayed in his favourite chair until the early hours of the morning, luring anyone he could into games of chance.
Vin finished giving what amounted to the bare bones of his story and waited for Ezra to speak.
Ezra had not been fooled for a moment. He could see the anguish in Vin's expressive eyes and correctly surmised many of the details that Vin had omitted, both in his usual embarrassment at having to talk about himself and in his continued desire not to speak ill of the man he loved.
Finally the gambler asked somewhat apprehensively, "Had you given Mr Larabee any reason for feeling such violent jealousy?" He could not help but wonder whether his friendship with Vin was behind it all, and if that were the case, whether Vin harboured any feelings towards him that might justify Larabee's reaction. It seemed most unlikely that Vin wanted him, and he certainly would not have wagered a dime on it, but he could not help but hope.
"Jealousy?" Vin echoed in surprise. "Chris ain't jealous! He just worries about me, is all."
"Really?" the gambler questioned, his disbelief plain.
Vin paled, as he thought about Chris' demand to know who he had been with, and his discomfort accordingly increased. "I-I s'pose there might be a bit of jealousy in it," he conceded.
"And could that jealousy possibly be justified? Did you give him any possible reason for harbouring such an emotion?" the gambler persisted.
"Don't think so. Hell, Chris hardly let me out of his sight so I doubt I could have done anythin' even iffen I'd had a mind to. We came into town a few times, but we were always together 'cos Chris ... I-I m-mean 'cos we wanted to be."
Ezra elected to pretend he had not registered the hurried amendment and asked, "What about out at Chris' cabin?"
"Well, we weren't together all the time there 'cos sometimes Chris came into town without me and other times he had chores to do and he didn't like me helpin' lessen I hurt my arm again." He smiled faintly and continued, "That's one thin' that's gone okay. It's almost fixed now. I don't need a sling any more. It's just a bit weak still as the muscles need to build up again. See!" He shoved up his sleeve and held the arm out, innocently offering the limb for perusal, totally unaware of the effect he had on the gambler.
Unable to resist touching, the gambler ran his hands lightly down the limb and then manipulated it gently.
"See almost good as new," Vin said.
Ezra's hands had moved down so that he now clasped Vin's hand. He started to stroke it, stopping abruptly when he realized what he was doing. To cover his confusion, he said, "You did not tell me whether you had any visitors at Chris' cabin."
"Nate called out a couple of times to check my arm. Buck and JD came with him," he grinned. "Poor old Bucklin was tryin' to stop the kid askin' awkward questions about me and Chris. JD couldn't see why we didn't move back to town. He's got no idea what is ... what was," he corrected, "goin' on between Chris and me."
"And those were all your visitors?"
"Joey Connors called in a few times, but apart from him that was it. I kinda hoped ya might come out, Ez, but I s'posed ya wouldn't wanted to leave yer tables just to see me."
Ezra's mind registered the comment and felt gratified that he had been specifically missed, but his mind was too full to dwell upon that. Two words stood out in his thoughts: Joey Connors!
That explained a lot. Joey was a rider for the Triple Bar Ranch that bordered Nettie's place. A tall, well-muscled man, with wavy, dark blond hair and a face that set the ladies swooning, he was generally acknowledged to be the handsomest man around Four Corners. A friendly sort, he seemed to be on good terms with everyone, but he seemed to have a particular liking for Vin, often going out of his way to speak to him.
On a couple of occasions, back before the trouble with Hudson, Buck had joked that Joey seemed sweet on Vin. "He goes for all the pretty ones," the scoundrel had teased. Nathan and Josiah had dismissed that as evidence of Wilmington's warped sense of humour rather than as having any factual basis because Connors was rarely without a lady on his arm when in town. However, Connors never seemed to get seriously involved with any of his numerous female friends and Ezra, who had developed the art of reading people to quite an art as a useful adjunct to spotting and manipulating potential marks, had begun to wonder.
"So Mr Connors visited you frequently, did he?" Ezra queried.
"Iffen ya call three or four times in a month frequent. He called in on his way into town to see if I wanted anythin' fetchin'. I didn't, but it was kind of him."
"And did Mr Larabee also think it was 'kind'?"
"Nope, he was a mite twitchy about it. I dunno why. Joey's always nice to me, but Chris don't seem to cotton to him for some reason."
The gambler elected to say nothing of his speculations on that matter. "I anticipate that he will be more than 'a mite twitchy' about your current escapade," he observed.
"He'll be real mad, Ez. That's why I need to get goin'. I don't want ya gettin' into trouble 'cos of me."
"Yes, but where? You cannot leave without a destination in mind."
"I have to, Ez. Anyway, it don't ... it don't matter ... nothin' matters without ... without ..." He broke off with what sounded suspiciously like a sob and lowered his head further.
"Without Mr Larabee?" Ezra finished.
Vin nodded and muttered, "I know I'm stupid, but I still ... I still ... I dunno how I can, but I still ... love him." The last phrase was a mere breath, as Vin rubbed at his welling eyes trying not to disgrace himself with tears.
Ezra opened his arms and drew the tracker against him, holding him to his chest with one arm and stroking his free hand through Vin's tangled curls. "Not that I have had experience with the particular emotion," he lied, "but I am reliably informed that reason and good sense have little to do with it."
As he spoke, his mind was whirling as he tried to think what to suggest. Then it came to him, a place where Vin felt at home and where he was in easy contact distance.
"Vin, this may sound odd given that you have spent so much of your life alone, and have coped admirably, but I do not think you should attempt to leave while in this distressed condition. May I suggest that you go to Mrs Well's home and ask if you can stay there for a few days? You could be of assistance to her, while you consider your options. If, after a couple of weeks or so, you are still determined to depart, I will accompany you provided you will permit me to do so."
Vin looked stunned at the suggestion. "But, Ez, I thought ya liked it here. I couldn't expect ya to leave 'cos of me," he protested.
"Believe me, Mr Tanner, I can make a comfortable niche for myself wherever cards are played and I ... Well, I confess that I have come to experience some pleasure from your company and would miss you if you were not here."
Vin looked up at him doubtfully. For a moment, he wondered what the gambler meant. It was almost as if ... as if ... No, someone as clever, sophisticated and handsome as Ezra wouldn't have the sort of feelings for a scruffy, uneducated tracker that the latter had for Chris Larabee. He dismissed the errant thought. "Th-Thank ya, Ez," he managed. "I-I'll think on it. I'd better go now."
He started to pull away, but Ezra tightened his hold, hugging him to his heart and feeling the tension in the lean body. "Please do not contemplate departing permanently without notifying me," he urged. He nearly asked for Vin's word, but caught himself in time. That was a Larabee trick, used when an ill or injured tracker was likely to abscond, and although it was most effective, as Vin kept to his given word against all temptation to do otherwise, Standish was determined to distance himself from the gunslinger after what he had learnt.
Then he reluctantly released the tracker and Vin slipped noiselessly out into the corridor and away.
Ezra could not have said how long he stood there thinking over what had happened. He vividly recalled the dreadful night that Hudson had kidnapped Vin, remembering the unusual conversation he had had with Chris Larabee earlier in the evening.
The fuming gunslinger had stomped into the saloon, with Vin Tanner's clothing slung over one arm. As Chris gradually simmered down, he and Ezra had joked about how the confiscation of Vin's clothes would put the kibosh on any future escapades by the incorrigible patient. Ezra recollected that earlier in the conversation he had made a remark about how the tracker's ears would be burning after a Larabee lecture and the gunslinger had blurted, "That's not all that's burning." He had gone to say more, but had abruptly broken off and had looked and sounded quite disconcerted for a few moments. Why he had actually stammered, something that Ezra had never heard the normally ice-cold gunslinger do before.
Now he knew why. Larabee had lost control and had beaten his closest friend and had been racked with guilt, and more than somewhat confused, by his actions.
Well, obviously what should have been a salutary lesson had been forgotten. However, one could not dwell on that. Standish knew he had to look forward and had to do what he could for Vin ... provided, of course, that Vin would allow him to help. And he was not certain that he would. Ezra had no assurances that Tanner would even go to Mrs Wells' place, let alone advise him before he left for parts unknown.
Standish sighed wearily. There were too many imponderables at present. Standing there going over and over the various scenarios that his fertile brain conjured up was doing him no good at all. No, he had to be up and doing ... something.
There was money to be made at the tables. Indeed, the thought occurred that if he did end up leaving with Vin, it would be as well to have a well-stocked purse to help with expenses. Thus motivated, he straightened his coat and headed downstairs.
Soon he was fully involved in a game. Indeed, he was so engrossed in his cards he was unaware of the gunslinger's approach, until a cold and deadly voice interrupted, "I want to speak with ya, Standish."
Somehow, Ezra kept himself from flinching and audaciously replied, "Can it not wait, Mr Larabee? As you can undoubtedly observe, I am fully occupied at present."
Buck and JD, who were seated at a nearby table, exchanged glances. "Hell, Ez's got a death-wish," Buck whispered, a touch of admiration in his voice for the gambler's nerve.
The pair had seen Larabee enter and their greetings had died in their throats as they had observed his thunderous expression. Each had privately hoped like hell that it was not the result of some misdemeanour that they had inadvertently committed and had breathed sighs of relief when they realized Chris' gimlet gaze was firmly fixed upon Standish.
They were not alone. The saloon had gone completely silent as the others present waited to see what was going to happen next. There was no one who exuded danger like Chris Larabee when he had his dander up.
Watching the confrontation, more than one man hurriedly revised his opinion of the fancy gambler. The man definitely had guts, or less charitably, was simply the most foolhardy of mortals.
"No, it can't damn well wait," Larabee growled.
"Just allow me to finish this hand and I will be at your service," Ezra responded coolly, willing his hands not to shake.
However, his opponents shoved their chairs back, anxious to remove themselves from what was all too likely to be the line of fire, judging from Larabee's mood and the way his right hand was caressing his revolver's butt. "Sorry, Standish," one muttered, "I gotta get home."
"Yeah, me too," another added, scrambling to his feet.
Ezra turned to the remaining man. "Your call, I believe, Mr Simondson," he drawled.
"N-No, I-I fold," Simondson responded, tossing away his best hand of the evening and quickly rising.
The gambler scooped the money up and turned to Larabee. "Now how may I assist you, Mr Larabee?" he asked with irritating calmness.
"Not here. Yer room!"
It was an order, not a suggestion, but Ezra chose to interpret it as the latter. Having decided on the line he was going to take against the gunslinger, he was now completely engrossed in his own performance as innocent victim of the irascible Larabee's wrath. "Yes, that will be convenient," he replied urbanely, as if the gunslinger had merely suggested a pleasant social interlude.
Along with the rest of the men in the bar, Wilmington and Dunne were transfixed by the scene unfolding before them. Of course, not knowing about Vin leaving Chris, the two had no notion as to what had roused the notorious Larabee anger, but they knew that the gambler was an expert in rubbing the gunslinger up the wrong way. Indeed, he seemed to take a perverse delight in doing so. A need to live on the knife-edge seemed to be part of Standish's nature, however much he might claim that he was one for a quiet and civilized existence.
As the two men departed, JD whispered, "What do you think we should do, Buck?"
"Keep our heads down, kid, and just be grateful Chris ain't mad with us."
"But ... But Chris looks furious. What if he hurts Ezra?"
"I don't think it will come to that, JD," Buck replied, with more assurance than he really felt. "Old Ez has stirred him up real good in the past and Chris ain't shot him ... yet."
"But Vin's usually around to calm Chris down," JD pointed out.
That was true. No matter how angry the gunslinger was, the tracker could be relied upon to slip himself easily between the angry man and the object of his ire. Then, with his singularly sweet smile testifying to his indifference to the dangerous position in which he had placed himself, he would calmly dissuade Larabee from his violent intent.
"I guess Ezra's on his own this time," Buck commented. "Anyway he was stirrin' Chris up a bit. I just hope he knows what he's doin'."
Meanwhile, the two men, who had created such interest and speculation, had reached the gambler's rooms.
"After you, Mr Larabee," Standish said, sweeping open the door and stepping aside with exaggerated politeness.
Normally the gunslinger would not have turned his back on a foe, but this was different. He surged into the room, glancing around for evidence that Vin had been there. Seeing none, he swung around and snapped, "Where is he?"
Ezra quietly closed the door and turned back to him. "I fear that you have posed a somewhat difficult question to answer without the provision of additional information. Could you possibly enlighten me as to who the elusive 'he' might be?" he inquired calmly.
"Tanner of course! Who the hell else would I mean? Where is he?".
Abruptly dropping any attempt at prevarication, Standish admitted, "He was here, but as you may observe, he has departed the premises."
"Where has he gone?" the gunslinger demanded.
"That is Mr Tanner's business."
Larabee's hand closed on the butt of his revolver. "It's mine, Standish, and you damn well know it is!" he snarled.
"Pardon me, but I beg to differ, Mr Larabee. Your despicable treatment of Mr Tanner has erased any rights you might once have possibly possessed to receive any information as to his movements."
"What's he been sayin' behind my back?" Larabee demanded wrathfully, glowering at the gambler.
"I assure you it was Mr Tanner's desire to remain his usual close-lipped self. He was most reluctant to speak about you and only did so at my insistence."
"Interferin' bastard, ya had no ..."
Standish cut him off, observing imperiously, "If justice was served, you should actually be most grateful to me."
Taken aback at the gambler's statement, Larabee started, "Huh? Why?"
"If it were not for my so-called 'interference' Mr Tanner would have been long since departed to parts unknown."
Larabee's heart leapt as relief flooded over him. "Ya mean he's still in town?" he questioned, unable to completely suppress the note of relief and eagerness from his voice.
"No, but provided he has elected to abide by my advice, I am conversant with his current whereabouts."
Chris could feel his temper rising again. "Yer advice? Who the hell are ya to advise him about anything?"
Standish bristled. "Someone who cares about him," he replied daringly.
"Are ya suggestin' I don't?"
"I thought you did, but the unfortunate condition he was in when I encountered him inspires me to doubt it."
Larabee had the grace to look shamefaced. "I didn't mean to hurt him, I just ... I was ... I thought ..." He broke off, feeling a surge of guilt at his attempt to justify the indefensible.
However, Standish was inexorable. "Mr Larabee, I think everyone who knows you well is conversant with the adverse effect that too much alcohol has upon your already volatile temper, but that does not excuse your hurting Mr Tanner. I would have hoped you would have learnt your lesson after that most regrettable occasion, on the evening of his abduction by the late, unlamented Mr Hudson, when you laid your belt across him."
Larabee had never spoken about that incident with Vin. He had sincerely regretted his actions and had intended to apologize to Tanner, but by the time he had seen the tracker again, after his rescue from Hudson, too much time had elapsed and too much had happened for Chris to raise the upsetting issue again. He had decided that Vin had either forgiven him or had forgotten the incident in the midst of the trauma to which Hudson had subjected him. Well, clearly that had not been the case and now Vin was apparently using it against him.
His temper flared dangerously. "How'd ya know about that? Is there anythin' he hasn't told ya? I suppose ya know all the details about what we do in bed. Does it give ya a damned thrill hearin' what I do to him?"
'Do to him, not with him,' Ezra noted unhappily, fully aware that Larabee had deliberately chosen his words to hurt and desperately hoping that the gunslinger was lying. However, his composed expression did not alter and he calmly observed, "That is not worthy of you, Mr Larabee, and is most unfair upon Mr Tanner. Look, Vin came to me in an exceptionally vulnerable state. The one person who he loves - Yes, in spite of what you have done, that is still apparently the situation – had just turned upon him. He was in dire need of advice. He desperately needed to talk to someone who he could trust, someone who had his best interests at heart."
"And that's you?" Chris queried, with more than a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
"It is," Standish responded without hesitation.
"And what advice did you, trustworthy and disinterested friend that you are, give him?" Chris asked nastily.
"Never think that I am disinterested, Mr Larabee," the gambler responded coolly. " Let me lay my cards on the table as it were. Be assured that if Mr Tanner showed the slightest inclination to desert you for me, I would fight you every step of the way, but he does not. I confess that I do not believe you to be worthy of such love, but there it is.
"Although the loss of his society would be somewhat discomforting for me, if I considered it to be in his best interests, I would have encouraged him to leave Four Corners and to never return. However, I do not think that is the situation. Mr Tanner is very vulnerable at present and I do not believe he would survive long away from here ... away from you. He would not wish to do so. With his past, it was extremely difficult for him to have the trust necessary to make friends and even harder for him to love, but having given his heart into your less than tender keeping, he will regrettably never take it back.
"He had come into town merely to collect his few possessions and had had no intention of speaking to anyone. He was like a wounded wild animal, ready to bolt with no destination in mind and, I believe, likely to come to disaster, as he felt he had no longer a reason to live."
"Yer exaggerating, Standish!" Larabee argued defensively. "Hell, I only gave him a couple of back-handers. He's had far worse from others and not thought anythin' about it."
"You really do not comprehend what I am talking about, do you? I have always thought you to be exceptionally self-centred and this is a confirmation of my opinion. We all know the extent of the loss you suffered when your wife and child died, and can sympathize with your devastation, but knowing that, I find it difficult to comprehend your lack of empathy with the suffering of others. I know little of your life prior to your wedding, but am aware that your marriage definitely allowed you several years in which to enjoy the security of loving and knowing that love was returned in full measure.
"You seem to have overlooked the fact that Vin has never had this luxury. He does not understand relationships and seems almost frightened of them. I suspect that the way people have treated him has given him a feeling that he is not worthy of being loved, and subconsciously at least, a belief that you cannot possibly really love him."
"But I do!" Larabee protested.
"Have you told him that?"
"Yes, of course I have! He must know I do."
"There is no must about it. You need to both tell him and show him how much you care as frequently as you are able. You have the potential to hurt Mr Tanner more than anyone else in the world. I do not allude to physical violence against him, deplorable though that is, but to his soul. I am not willing to stand aside and permit you to do that."
"Ya'd fight me?" Larabee asked incredulously.
"If it was necessary, but I trust it will not be so since it would be a conflict in which neither of one us could be truly victorious."
Larabee stared at him. "What do ya mean?" he demanded.
"It would be put a pyrrhic victory. Vin would be shattered if I managed to kill you. That outcome would, of course, be unlikely, but the alternative would not benefit you either. I firmly believe that Mr Tanner would be unable to forgive you if your actions resulted in my demise."
The gunslinger stood silent, mulling that over and then nodded slowly. "Yer right, Ezra," he conceded reluctantly. "Yer right in all ya've said to me today and I ... Well, I guess I oughta ... I thank ya for havin' the guts to say it to me."
Hiding his surprise at hearing such an admission from Larabee, the gambler replied, "I will not pretend that it was my pleasure, Mr Larabee, but I believe it needed to be said." He held out his hand and Chris took it.
"If I give you my word not to approach him, will ya tell me here he is?"
Ezra agreed and explained, "I suggested he proceed to Mrs Wells' place. I know that this was a source of the conflict between you, but she is exceptionally fond of him and will keep a watchful eye upon him. Besides that, she will no doubt be able to keep him busily occupied working around her property and hopefully that will give him a purpose. Above all, my intention was to persuade him to stay near at hand, until he is a more rational state for making decisions as to his future, and I needed to suggest some place where he would feel comfortable."
"Does Miz Wells know about him and me?"
"I do not think so, but she is a wily old bird so she may have some idea about your relationship. However, she keeps her own counsel."
+ + + + + + +
The tracker had ridden into the night still undecided as to his best course. He felt so tired, so emotionally drained, that all he wanted to do was sleep for a week, but he knew that once he lay down he would be in for another restless night of tossing and turning. He allowed Peso to wander at will for an hour or so, while he slumped in the saddle lost in his depressing thoughts.
Finally, having reached no better solution, he decided to follow Ezra's advice and turned Peso towards Nettie's place.
He dismounted about half a mile from the house. He would not disturb Nettie and Casey at that hour. Instead, he wrapped his threadbare saddle blanket around him and lay down.
Shivering in the cold air, he could not help recall how just a couple of nights before he had been safe and warm in Chris' arms. How he wished things could be different, but it seemed there was no going back and the future seemed as cold and dark as the night that enveloped him.
Early the next morning, Nettie was surprised to see Vin riding into the yard and was shocked to see his face. The bruises stood out starkly against his pale face, while his eyes were reddened with dark smudges beneath them denoting lost sleep. "Mornin', Nettie," he drawled.
"Morning, Vin, I did not expect to see you again so soon. What's wrong?" she asked, her tone reflecting her concern.
"Nothin'. Everythin's fine. I-I j-just thought I'd come out and get on with some of the other jobs that ya need doin'."
Nettie's brow creased. She did not believe his assurances for one moment, but she refrained from challenging them. She knew Vin of old. Any attempt to make him talk was likely to cause him to clam up. No, it was better to bide her time and hope that he would eventually confide in her. "Good!" she responded briskly. "There's lots that needs tending to, but first things first. Have you had any breakfast?"
"I'm okay."
"That wasn't what I asked, boy," she scolded. "You look like the wind could blow you away, you've got so skinny. You come inside and have something. A man shouldn't go to work on an empty stomach."
Soon a reluctant Vin was picking at a large plate of ham and eggs. "C'mon, boy, eat up. I expect a clean plate before you leave my table."
"But I ain't hungry."
"Nonsense, you're always hungry. Now eat it before it gets cold."
Vin tried to oblige, but in truth the taste of food was turning his stomach. Suddenly, he muttered something, put a hand over his mouth and staggered to the door. He made it behind the barn before he lost what little he had swallowed.
Nettie waited until the sound of retching ceased and then went to him. He was on his knees, with his back towards her. She put one hand on his shoulder and stroked the other through his tangled curls. "I think you'd better come and lie down for a bit, Vin. I'll send Casey into town to get Nathan for you."
He twisted round to look pleadingly up at her. "No! Please, Nettie, I'm okay. Somethin' must have gone down the wrong way, is all."
"Vin, you're not well and ..."
"I am. I am!" Vin insisted, his blue eyes desperate. "Please, I don't want Nate. Just let me get to work and I'll be fine." He knew it would be only a matter of time before Larabee learnt of his whereabouts and he would have to move on, but he hoped to stave that off as long as possible. He knew that if Nathan was summoned, he would be bound to tell the others where he was going and why and an irate gunslinger would arrive hard on Jackson's heels. In any case, he knew his upset had no physical cause, but was a result of the nervous tension he had felt since his run in with the gunslinger.
Nettie looked sadly at him. She feared any pressure might actually make him cut and run. She nodded reluctantly. "It's against my better judgement, boy, but you do as you think best. I will send for Nathan if you get sick again though," she warned.
"I won't. I'll get on with the barn repairs. I'll be okay. Ya'll see."
Nettie looked frankly dubious, but went to turn away without further comment. However, Vin started, "I wondered ..." and then broke off.
"You wondered?" Nettie prompted.
"Iffen I can stay over for a spell. Saves me goin' back to town. Just in the barn,' he added hurriedly, clearly concerned lest she take umbrage at his presumption in asking to stay.
Nettie was no fool. She had registered the words "back to town". So he was not staying at Larabee's place any more. Yes, they had clearly fallen out and from the tracker's bruised face, had probably come to blows. "You are most welcome, Vin," she assured him firmly, "but you must stay in the house."
"The barn'll do me fine, Nettie."
"We'll discuss that later," Nettie said.
Comments to: rugglesb@internet.co.nz