Mary Travis gave the man riding with her a side-long glance. For the past five miles, they had ridden in silence. She had become used to Chris Larabee's long periods of quietness. He was, afterall, a man of few words, unlike say, Ezra Standish who could talk a hind leg off a mule and get it to buy ice cubes during a blizzard. Mr. Larabee could never be called "chatty". However, she had only been subject to his periods of silence when others were around. Amplified by the general desolation of an early November countryside, his silence rang loudly in her ears.
She had enough. If he wasn't going to make small talk, she was just to assure herself that some human life existed out here.
"It was very kind of you to offer to escort me to Raintree, Mr. Larabee," she said referring to a town some 25 miles off from Four Corners. She was startled by how loud her voice sounded.
"Already told you, couldn't let you go that far by yourself," was his short and soft reply.
How did he manage to keep his voice so quiet? Mary asked herself. "But I've made the trip alone often enough," she began remembering to moderate her voice so it didn't sound too loud. "Long before you where ever around. It's perfectly safe."
He had kept his eyes on the road before them throughout the conversation. He now turned to look at the woman riding in the wagon beside him. She wore a tan duster that kept out the cold and dirt from the woolen, dove-colored dress that peeked through from the bottom of the coat. Her white, blond hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck, but a few wisps had escaped and drifted languidly around her face in the small breeze. She appeared to gather all of the waning sunlight in the one spot where she sat, shining and golden.
His eyes, always inscrutable and ever changing in their hue from a blue to a greenish hazel were unreadable as ever as he looked out from under the brim of his black hat. "But I'm here now, and so are the others. No reason to go alone." He turned to look at the road once again, only offering her a view of his profile.
Mary sighed in exasperation and turned her own eyes back to the road. Argument and reason was fruitless. She thought back to early that morning when Peter, one of the stable boys, helped her hitch up Homer, her driving horse. They were checking over the harness making certain it was properly buckled and fastened when they were interrupted by Chris, Vin Tanner and Buck Wilmington.
"Morning Miz Travis," Buck said in that gentlemanly manner of his that he had specially reserved for women. The way he greeted men was an entirely other matter.
"Mr. Wilmington, Mr. Tanner, Mr. Larabee," Mary acknowledged with an inclination of her head.
"Ma'am," Vin returned in his quiet drawl. "Going visiting?" he asked nodding towards the hitched up horse and wagon.
"I need to do a small errand," Mary replied. She neglected to mention where and hoped she wouldn't be forced to divulge it. She knew if they knew she was going to Raintree 25 miles off, they would insist on an escort. She had been looking forward to getting away from Four Corners to a town that was considered huge in comparison. It would be nice to just stroll around a bit and forget all her responsibilities. And to completely forget about Four Corners, she needed to go alone.
"Can't be that small if you have a bag packed," Buck said as he noticed the top of her carpet bag in the back of the wagon.
Mary sighed vexedly and remembered to check the look of irritation that nearly crossed her face. Drat his eyes! Mary thought. She sighed again. Lying was not one of Mary's talents nor was she adept in deception with friends. "If you must know, I'm going to Raintree for a few days."
"Raintree!" Buck sputtered in indignation. "That's 25 miles off!"
"I'm well aware of the distance between Four Corners and Raintree Mr. Wilmington," Mary returned primly. "Unfortunately, a part on the press broke. It would take two or three weeks to wait for a replacement part and I'm afraid I need it rather quickly. The newspaper in Raintree informed me in response to a wire I sent them that they have a spare they are willing to sell me."
"Why aren't you taking the stagecoach?" Vin asked sensibly. "It'll be here in about 4 days."
"I did consider it," Mary replied, "But I received a telegram yesterday informing me that it was delayed in Shady Hills. It won't arrive for another 10 days."
"But you can't go alone!" Buck was aghast. A woman, traveling alone for 25 miles.
"I've done it before Mr. Wilmington. I assure you I will be perfectly safe."
"You ain't going alone."
They all turned to the one person who hadn't spoken the entire time. During the conversation, Chris quietly told Peter to fetch and saddle his horse. He now stood there, reins in his hands ready to ride out with Mary.
"Really Mr. Larabee!" Mary allowed the irritation to show this time. "This is entirely unnecessary."
"You ain't going alone," he repeated, quietly and firmly.
She opened her mouth again to protest but shut it when she saw any further argument would be futile. Reasoning with Chris Larabee once he had made up his mind was like talking to a brick wall. No matter what she said, he would remain immovable. Either way, he probably would just follow her. With a resigned air, she allowed Vin to help her up into the wagon.
"Now you two be careful and take your time. No need to rush back here," Buck said cheerfully. For some reason, he was grinning widely. Even Vin Tanner, who was inscrutable as Chris without the coldness, had a small smile on his lips.
As Vin and Buck watched the two of them depart, the Texan spoke to his taller companion. "You reckon that was smart to let those two go out alone?"
"No I don't. No sir, I don't," Buck said cheerfully. He turned to look at his friend. "But I do think it's going to be what the doctor ordered."
It was late and they had been riding the entire day and part of the night which may account for Mary's carelessness. She had to admit later that she was probably dozing lightly when the incident happened.
Homer, named for the Greek storyteller, was always a gentle, docile horse that obeyed Mary's commands beautifully. Because of that, she usually kept a firm, yet relaxed grip on the driving lines. However, she was stiff, tired and cold from riding in the wagon all day with only a quick stop for dinner hours ago. Although, because of the darkness, she doubted she would have been able to have spot the snake in the road had she been alert.
Homer was not as fatigued as she. Upon spying the reptile before him, the gentle horse reared up on his hind legs and shrieked in fear. Snapping fully awake, Mary dived wildly for the driving lines that flew out of her hands. She grasped air and had barely enough time to brace herself as the wagon rocked wildly when the horse plunged and reared. Homer shot off like a bolt a lightening trying to put as much distance between himself and the snake.
"Chris!"
"Mary!"
Mary desperately clutched the wooden wagon seat as Homer ran wildly. She vaguely heard the thunder of hooves behind her as she tried to speak soothingly to Homer in an attempt to slow down, if not stop the runaway horse.
Homer never slowed his pace until the wagon violently struck some obstruction. Both the wagon and Mary flew up into the air from the force of the impact. Mary landed hard on the ground and rolled over a few times before she stopped in a stunned heap.
The wagon was not so fortunate. As it came down again, the front part of it smashed into the ground. Homer was pulled up short by the tangled reins. He scrambled up from the ground and stood shivering and snorting but otherwise unhurt.
"Mary!" she heard Chris shout through the veil of pain.
Chris had felt his heart leap into his throat when he saw Mary flying out of the wagon and landing hard on the ground. He pulled his mount to a stop and leapt off landing in a run. He could see her faintly stirring and breathed a sigh of relief that she was alive.
"Mary!" he shouted again as he dropped to his knees beside her. Gently he helped her as she tried to sit up. "Don't move, you don't know what may be broken."
"No. Okay," she gasped out as she started to fall backwards only to find her back braced against Chris' chest. "I think I only had the wind knocked out of me." She was having a little trouble breathing and she ached all over, but nothing felt broken. "Just need to rest."
"Move your arms and legs," Chris ordered as he continued to support her sitting position. He watched as she did what she was told and noticed she didn't wince in pain too much.
"Nothing appears to be broken," Mary said as she tested her body. "I think I'm okay." She glanced at Chris and was startled by the look of concern and something else in his face. Concern she understood, but that other emotion she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The only other time she saw it was the time he had rescued her. Before he had untied her from the bed, he had looked at her with some emotion that she was unable to identify. It had been so quick that she had thought she might have been mistaken, but the look had often made her wonder what was meant by it.
Chris could feel his heart returning to its normal rate. He was thankful that the layers of clothing kept Mary from feeling how rapidly it had been beating. His discomfort in having Mary so close to him mixed with an emotion he thought was long dead. He became acutely aware of her scent and how soft her hair was against his cheek. He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of her hair as his arms protectively circled her.
The throbbing Mary felt was momentarily forgotten as she relaxed in Chris' strong arms. He held her so gently that she was surprised into silence. She had thought this man in black incapable of such a gentle touch. Had she been asked to describe Chris Larabee "ruthless" would have been one of the words she would have used. Ruthless in his dealing with men and truth be told, she suspected with women as well. The only other time she had ever seen him show any type of gentleness was with Billy, something she was eternally grateful for.
She knew little of Larabee's past but what she did know made her feel a certain connection with him. Both had lost loved ones, a spouse, to violence. Chris however had also lost his child. Mary had a taste of that a little while back when Billy was threatened. She could only imagine the torment Chris went through. Yet, she felt she was in the best position to know how he felt.
However, he had coldly rebuffed her attempts to understand his situation in such a brutal and final way, that she made no other efforts to pry into that part of his life.
She had never been this close to him before and she took the opportunity to scrutinize his face from where her head rested on his shoulder. It was a strong, handsome face that by now had rested back into its usual inscrutable lines. The jaw was strong and the nose straight. The mouth was usually set in a straight line, but she could tell that it was capable of brilliant smiles. The eyes fascinated her the most.
Those orbs constantly changed color with whatever mood he happened to be in. She had seen them turn hard and unforgiving when he and Vin Tanner saved Nathan from that lynch mob that she had been so ineffective against. But she had also seen them lighted and gentle when he took Billy fishing.
Yes, Chris Larabee was a man of many paradoxes. She doubted she would ever really figure him out.
He felt her eyes upon him and looked down at her. He looked directly into her clear blue-gray eyes and marveled at how shadow free they still were. He knew what she had been through in the past. It was so similar to his own experiences that he wondered how she could still remain so light and untainted while he had been consumed by a darkness so black that he could never conceive of ever escaping it.
She had a fine face with sculpted features. Mary Travis carried herself regally and proudly with her tall frame and erect back. For the millionth time he wondered again what a woman like Mary Travis was doing out here and not in some New York parlor.
That tall and regal frame was now lying in his arms as they both sat on the cold ground.
"You feeling better?" he asked abruptly; a bit more abruptly than he had intended.
"I think so," she said shakily as she slowly disengaged herself. Chris helped her up and she cursed herself when she found her legs unsteady. She looked at the remains of her wagon and a now calm Homer. "How on earth are we going to get to Raintree?"
"We're only about a mile or two out," Chris said as he too regarded the wreckage. He considered and immediately disregarded the idea of Mary riding bareback on Homer. Just as quickly, he disregarded the idea of him riding bareback. Mary was looking a bit shaky and he wasn't about to let her ride on a horse alone. "Stay here." He sat her down on the ground again and walked over to Homer.
He nearly tripped over Mary's carpet bag that had also flown out of the wagon. Miraculously it had not even opened. Scooping it up, he continued to walk over to Homer.
"Whoa boy," he said gently as Homer shied a little bit away from him. He firmly grasped the horse's lines and unhitched him from the remains of the wagon. He quickly examined the horse and aside from a bad scare, he was all right.
Chris led Homer over to his own horse and tied him to the latter's saddle. He fastened Mary's bag to part of Homer's harness and went over to Mary.
"Ready?" he asked as he offered her a hand up.
Mary placed her gloved hand in his bigger one and was pulled gently to her feet. She was walking a little unsteadily so Chris slipped an arm around her waist. They stopped before the two horses.
Chris looked at her for a moment. "I think I should ride behind you."
"I beg your pardon?" Mary asked in surprise.
"I should ride behind you," Chris said again. "I don't think you're steady enough to keep a hold on me if you rode behind me."
"Oh," was her only reply.
Chris gently helped her up in the saddle and swung up behind her. Once again, his arms went around her but this time they both immediately felt the discomfort of the close proximity.
Chris cleared his throat. "Ready? We're off!"
"Now let me get this straight," Ezra Standish said for the fifth time. He drained his glass before he recited the situation. "Mr. Chris Larabee is escorting the lovely Mrs. Travis 25 miles to Raintree. A trip that will take them all day forcing them to remain at the very least overnight, if not longer, in that fair town. Alone. Together." He looked incredulously at Buck. "Has this cold weather dulled what little brain cells you have?"
"What's he saying?" Buck asked Nathan who was seated beside him.
"He's saying are you crazy for letting Chris go off with Mary," Nathan translated.
"Well, what's wrong with that?" JD asked innocently. "I'm certain Chris can protect Mrs. Travis by himself."
Five pair of eyes regarded him with amusement.
"What? What?" JD demanded.
"Follow my reasoning here," Ezra said in his Southern drawl, ignoring JD's question. "We all know that Mr. Larabee most likely has feelings of a deep nature for Mrs. Travis. Well, all except one of us." He gave JD a look, comprehension finally dawning on the young man's face as his mouth formed a silent "O". "But do we know if Mrs. Travis shares those feelings?"
"Course she does!" Buck returned heartily. "Least, I think she does," he added a bit less confidently. "Shoot! She must! Look how upset she gets when he's late or with, you know, other women."
"Don't mean she has feelings like that for him," Vin added his two cents. "I see where Ezra's going with this."
"Well, I sure wish one of you two geniuses would tell me!" Buck said in exasperation.
"If the fair Mrs. Travis decides she does not return Mr. Larabee's offered affections, should the man finally pull himself out of that black pit he threw himself in, then he might suffer irreversible damage that might make him wary to expose himself in such a way ever again," Ezra explained.
"Huh?" Buck asked, a blank look on his face.
"If Mary turns Chris down flat after he finally decides to start living again, he may stay the way he is forever," Vin translated.
"Oh," Buck said slowly. "That never occurred to me."
"Well, you're always saying how much you know about women, Buck," JD jumped in. "What do you think Mrs. Travis thinks of him?"
"Well, I-, she-" Buck stammered. He had always found Mary Travis a bit harder to read than most women. She was so confound independent! "Ask Nathan! He's known her longer."
"Huh?" Nathan started. He thought for a moment before he replied. "Mrs. Travis is good, kind caring woman. Reminds me a little bit of Chris. You know, losing her husband and all. But with none of the guilt or anger. Least, not guilt and anger about that." He shook his head. "Don't know what to tell you boys. I'm not certain any more than you are what Mary likely would do or how she feels."
"Well," Buck said shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he realized the potentially bad consequences of the chain of events he help set in motion. "Whatever happens, just so long as Chris doesn't come back to town in a worse mood than he's been in lately. I don't think my poor nerves would be able to handle it."
Part 2
Mary slowly eased into the warm water. The hotel had kindly, with some encouragement by Chris, drawn a bath for her. The doctor had assured her that aside from bruises and scrapes, she was fine. Although she would most likely wake up tomorrow wishing she was dead.
She settled back and idly watched the steam rise up and thought about her taciturn riding companion. After arriving in Raintree, Chris had deposited her in the hotel and went for the doctor. He came back with him almost immediately. The doctor was a tall, thin man and judging by the fact that he was in his shirtsleeves with a dinner napkin still tucked in his collar, Mary deduced that Chris had literally dragged him over to the hotel. Mr. Larabee had then left after mumbling something about seeing her in the morning.
She knew that he had taken a room down the hall from her and she wondered what he would be doing tonight. She knew the answer as soon as she thought of the question. There was a large saloon in town and no doubt he would be there drinking the night away.
Mary sighed and picked up her bath sponge. She liked Chris Larabee, perhaps more than she was willing to admit, but the man was full of too many contradictions that she never knew which Chris she was dealing with before she realized she had said something she should not have.
Mary sighed again and sank deeper into the tub. She was too tired to think about it. She would deal with the Chris Larabee enigma tomorrow.
Chris drained the whiskey glass and glanced around the saloon. It looked like any one of the many saloons he has been in during his life. Perhaps bigger than some and smaller than others. But they were all the same. During the past three years, the saloons have been a second home to him.
What in God's name made me volunteer for this job? he thought with irritation. He could have easily sent one of the other men to escort Mary here. However, he had acted impulsively and without thought. For some reason, it had angered him to see Mary attempting the trip alone. The furtive way she had acted, not letting anyone know about the trip had bothered him. Her explanation had seemed plausible enough, but her actions made him suspect that there was something more to the trip than just replacing a broken part. And a part of him just had to find out what it was.
Then the accident on the way here. He remembered the cold fear clutching his stomach as he saw her sailing through the air and hitting the ground. Horrible images of her body lying broken had flashed through his mind. They were quickly replaced with relief when he saw her alive. He didn't feel totally assured until the doctor came out of her room where he stood guard in the hallway waiting for him.
Chris took a deep breath as he still felt the waves of anxiety in his muscles. Mary had been lucky. Damn lucky. He had seen men die of injuries they sustained from being thrown from their horses. She only received a few aches and bruises.
He didn't know how tense he was until he saw her blue eyes open to look at him as he held her in his arms. Chris closed his eyes as he recalled how it felt to hold her. He snapped them open again and hissed out a sound of irritation. He could not, would not think of the widow that way.
He glanced around and his eyes fell on a tall, buxom, blonde who's dress told him what she did for a living. He stared at her until they made eye contact. Chris tilted his head slightly and she nodded in response, slowly making her way to him. They had completed their transaction without a word.
He would never know the name of that woman because they never spoke the entire time they were together.
The doctor was right, Mary thought as she carefully made her way down the stairs, her body protesting each move. She was up early, hoping to transact her most pressing business immediately so she may enjoy an afternoon of shopping for other things. She had knocked quietly at Chris's door, but received no answer. Thinking he was still asleep, she had not bothered to press further.
As she walked out into the fresh morning air, she looked around Raintree with pleasure. It was probably three times the size of Four Corners and included many prosperous shops. The hotel desk clerk had given her directions to the newspaper office and she leisurely made her way over there.
She passed by the saloon on the opposite side of the street and saw several working girls lounging around outside. She thanked God that the ones in Four Corners were not as brazen as that. A flash of black on the second floor of the saloon caught her eye. She turned her head and drew in her breath sharply as she saw Chris exit one of the rooms above the saloon with another woman.
So that's where he's been, she thought grimly. Well, it was none of her concern. She knew by now that Chris Larabee was no saint. However, the bald-faced evidence before her hurt for some reason.
With her head held higher, she continued on her way and finally reached the newspaper office. The building was much larger than hers and when she entered, she saw several people working industrially.
"May I help you?" a tall, dark-haired gentleman asked her courteously.
"Yes," Mary smiled. "I'm Mary Travis from Four Corners. I wired Mr. Langton about that part for my press. He said he would sell me a spare he had."
"Mrs. Travis," the man exclaimed in delight. "I'm Frank Langton. So good to finally meet you." He shook her hand warmly and smiled in admiration as he looked at her. "I've wanted to meet you for the longest time. I'm an admirer of your work and your late husband's."
"Thank you," Mary replied graciously. She laughingly extracted her hand from his when he held it too long. "The part?"
"It's right here," he said as he led her to the counter. He reached down behind it and pulled out a small box.
Mary opened the box and examined the part. It was a new one and she nodded in satisfaction. "I believe we agreed on $5?" she asked as she started to withdraw the money from her pocketbook.
"No, no, I can't accept that," Langton said as he held up his hands. "What's a part or two between newspaper people?"
Mary looked suspiciously at him but pressed the money forward. "Mr. Langton I insist. Please, we had an agreement or you will force me to seek other avenues."
Reluctantly, he accepted her money. "But as a guest in our fair town, I insist on buying you dinner tonight."
"I don't know," Mary demurred.
"We could dine at the hotel in full view of everyone at all times. There won't be a question of your reputation," Langton assured her.
Mary started to mention Chris when she stopped. He had not considered her when he went off last night. Why should she extend him the courtesy he didn't give her? "Very well," she said. "In the hotel at say, 6:00 pm?"
"I look forward to it," Langton said as he picked up her hand to kiss it.
Chris made his way back to the hotel, wincing a bit in the bright sunlight. Before he went to his room, he knocked on Mary's door. Not receiving any answer, he continued on to his room. He had ordered a bath on his way up. The employee bearing the hot water and tub quickly prepared a bath for him and left him to clean up.
He made himself decent once again and went back out into the sunny street, his head hurting considerably less. He glanced around and headed west to where most of the shops were located, keeping a sharp eye out for Mary.
Mary knew that the first order of business would be to purchase a saddle. Since the wagon was destroyed, she would have to ride Homer back to Four Corners. However, the other shops in Raintree were too enticing. One particular dress shop had caught her eye. It had been so long since she had a new dress and now that the appropriate amount of time for mourning had passed, she felt the urge for something new.
She stepped into the quiet store and allowed her eyes to adjust. A woman bustled from the back and smiled at her. "May I help you miss?" she asked politely.
"Yes," Mary replied, "I'm looking for a new dress."
"Did you have anything particular in mind?"
Mary shook her head. The saleswoman looked Mary up and down for a moment and then her mouth stretched into a wide smile. "I think I have just the thing for you!" She hurried to the back of the store and then came bustling forward with her arms full of a silky creation of a pale lavender and lace. "We've had this dress for a while, but the woman it was made for decided she didn't like it. So far, it hasn't suited anyone. But I think it should fit you perfectly!"
Mary stood before the full length mirror as she held the dress in front of her. It was a heavenly creation of lavender silk. The skirt was pulled tightly back creating a silhouette that emphasized the figure. A cascade of lace and silk fell into a train behind the dress. The sleeves were skin tight and had the barest hint of lace at the cuffs.
"You need to try it on," the woman insisted even as she shoved Mary towards the small dressing room.
A half hour later, Mary was leaving the store with not only the dress, but a pair of dainty pale lavender slippers and length of lavender ribbon. Her pocketbook was considerably lighter, but she felt the purchase was worth it.
A bit later, and attempting to balance her packages, Mary finally made her way to the tanner's where she could purchase a saddle. She was having a hard time holding all of the packages and one always threatened to slide off from the pile.
She entered the tanner shop and set the packages down with a sigh of relief on the counter. The shopkeeper greeted her and asked if he could help her.
"Yes," Mary said, "I need a new saddle."
"Yes ma'am," the owner said. He brought her a ladies saddle of tan leather. "This here is one of the best we got. Double stitched and wax sealed. Nickel trimmings." He pointed out the features.
Mary blanched at the cost of the saddle. Truth be told, she wasn't sure if that was a good deal or not. She had so little practice with such purchases and while no one in Four Corners would ever think of trying to deceive her, she wasn't sure about Raintree.
"Now it's not nice to try to bilk a lady out of her money," a soft voice drawled out from behind her.
Both Mary and the shopkeeper turned to look at the speaker. Chris stood in the door way, looking coolly at them. He walked slowly into the shop and towards the counter. He seemed to fill the entire room with his presence, like some menacing bird of prey circling above.
"That saddle's real nice, but it's worth $10 less than the price you're asking," Chris said with a nod towards the merchandise.
"Sir! I don-," the man's sentence faded away when he saw the look in Chris's eyes. He turned nervously back to Mary. "My mistake ma'am," he stammered out. "I misspoke about the price. This gentleman is correct. It's $10 less."
Mary gaped in surprise at the two men and looked hard at Chris who stared blandly back. She paid the price for the saddle and Chris gave explicit instructions that it was to be delivered to the stable and which horse it belonged to. He then turned to Mary who was picking up her packages.
"Let me help you," Chris said as he moved forward.
"I am quite capable of carrying my own packages," Mary said stiffly, remembering where he had been last night.
At that moment, the top package slid off and bounced at their feet. There was the small sound of breaking glass and a wet spot appeared on the package. Mary silently cursed the little brown box as Chris stooped down to pick it up.
"Looks to me like you need help," he said dryly. He sniffed the odor from the package. "Rosewater?"
Mary nodded. "You might as well throw it away, it's no use to me now with the bottle broken."
Chris tossed the package into a wastepaper basket. Without further ado, he grabbed the rest of her packages and tucked them easily under one of his longer and stronger arms.
Mary gritted her teeth and walked out of the door that he held open for her. He glanced at her in mild surprise, wondering why she was so hostile towards him this morning.
They walked down the street in silence, Chris glancing at her profile every now and then and Mary staring straight ahead.
"Are you done with your shopping?" he asked.
"Yes, I am," she replied in frigid tones.
"Well, good. I thought we start off for Four Corners today. Since we'll be on horseback, we should make it in time for supper."
"I can't leave today," Mary informed him.
"Why not?" he demanded in irritation, her attitude beginning to get to him.
Mary stopped walking and not without a little bit of smug triumph said, "Because I have a dinner engagement."
Chris's brow darkened. "I thought you didn't know anyone in Raintree," he frowned.
"I didn't," she replied. "Until today." She smiled sweetly at him and continued on to the hotel.
"Who is it?" Chris asked suspiciously.
"Mr. Frank Langton, the owner of the newspaper here. He invited me to dinner this morning when I went to purchase the part from him. He was most charming." Mary didn't know why she suddenly decided to add that last sentence, but she felt a warm glow of malicious pleasure in doing so.
Chris fell into a black, silent brood as he followed Mary into the hotel and up to her room. He laid the packages on a table and mumbled his excuses as he left and went to his room.
Slamming his door shut didn't do anything to alleviate the anger he felt. Why he should be angry, he did not know. He attributed the feeling to the delay that Mary was causing. This was suppose to be a simple trip for a simple errand, but she was turning it into some sort of pleasure party.
Chris threw his hat across the room and removed his gun belt as he flopped down onto the bed. He folded his hands behind his head and contemplated the ceiling.
He wondered if this was the whole reason for Mary's secretive movements back in Four Corners. Perhaps the reason she didn't want any company on this trip was because she didn't want anyone to know about this Langton character. However, she did say she hadn't met him until this morning. Could she be lying?
Chris dismissed that thought immediately. Mary was one of the worst liars he knew. He could tell when she was being deceptive So what was her reason for coming here? It couldn't be just for the part. She didn't need to sneak around for that.
Was she investigating the town as a possible new home? he wondered. This thought made him sit up in bed. Could Mary be thinking about leaving Four Corners?
He shook his head as if to clear it. Speculation was getting him nowhere. He really should just ask her straight out why she wanted to come all this way without letting one know where she was going.
But none of this was explaining her sudden change of attitude. Yesterday, she had been fine, but this morning, she was downright cold to him. What had happened in those few hours to make her angry? After the doctor assured him she would be okay, he had gone to the saloon and then spent the night with that woman.
An uneasy feeling went up Chris's spine. Mary had done far too much shopping by the time he had met her in the tanner shop. She had also not answered his knock when he checked up on her that morning. Could she had seen him with the girl?
While Chris was the first to admit that he definitely was not sinless, he felt uncomfortable with showing his baser nature to Mary. When Lydia had come riding into Four Corners a few months ago, broadly hinting at her relationship with Chris, he had carefully avoided her. Sure, he had visited Lydia before that time he, Buck and JD saved Nora, but he felt an unwillingness to let Mary know about that. In fact, Chris was one of the few men in Four Corners who didn't take advantage of the looser female company in town, preferring to satisfy that need outside of the town limits.
He didn't know why he had set such limitations upon himself. Perhaps it was because he didn't want to see the disapproving line that he knew Mary's lips would thin into or the look in her eyes should she ever discover what he had been up to. He caught a flash of that when he realized that Mary knew exactly where he had been when he came riding into town with Nora in his arms. The look had been quick, but he still saw it and for some reason, it had affected him.
From that moment on, he made damn sure that should he be with another woman, he was going to make certain Mary Travis wasn't around to know about it.
Chris wondered idly if Steven Travis had ever done anything like that? Definitely not when he was married, for what man would cheat on a woman like Mary? What with her intelligence and beautiful face, he was certain that her body was equally exquisite.
Chris quickly clamped down on any thoughts like that. Mary was a lady. He was hired to protect her. How could he think of her in those terms? But being an honest man, Chris had to admit that he had wondered what she would look like underneath all that prim and proper clothing she wore. The steel corset and bustle and the prim dresses, dresses he thought that didn't do her justice. He was, after all, a man. He was almost certain every man in Four Corners had wondered at some time or another what it would have been like to make love to Mary Travis. Not that anyone would ever say it aloud. Chris's lips thinned angrily. Least, they better not.
He growled in frustration and stood up from the bed. None of this thinking was getting him anywhere. Mary was having dinner with some man, fine! He picked up his hat and gunbelt and went stomping off into the town.
"Don't you look lovely this evening," Frank Langton greeted Mary as she descended the stairs. She had changed out of her gray traveling dress into a dark blue, shot silk dress with a white lacy collar and cuffs.
"Thank you," Mary said as she took his arm. They entered the dining room of the hotel and were immediately seated.
During dinner they made light social conversation. It wasn't until they were having coffee that Langton brought up what he wanted to talk to her about.
"Mrs. Travis," he began earnestly. "I have a business proposition for you."
Mary raised her eyebrows. "Indeed?"
"Yes," continued Frank. "You see, I've been reading issues of The Clarion News for the past few months and I must say that I'm rather impressed with your writing."
"Thank you, that's kind of you to say."
"Kindness has nothing to do with it. You are an excellent writer and reporter. I want to offer you a position on my paper here as Assistant Editor."
Mary stared at him for a moment and laughed lightly. "Forgive me, but what on earth would make you think that I would accept such a position after being the sole owner of my own paper?"
"And probably the sole employee," Langton added. "Mrs. Travis, I've been to Four Corners and I must say that it must not be an easy town for a woman to live in. A woman like yourself who is used to the finer things in life. And while Raintree is not New York or Boston, it definitely boasts more civilized company than Four Corners." He watched interestedly as Mary shifted in her chair, positive he had hit a nerve.
Langton leaned forward a bit. "One gets tired of the harsh life and existence. Longs for quiet company, fine stores. I'm not offering you a position that is a step down. I want to expand my business and buy The Clarion from you." He held up his hand when he saw her open her mouth. "Let me finish. I would buy your newspaper, but I would send a group to run it in Four Corners, but as one of your duties as Assistant Editor, you would oversee it from here in Raintree. Therefore you would still have your paper, but you would be living in a more settled town."
"Why my paper?" Mary asked suspiciously.
"Honestly? I know it's not making too much money and it wouldn't be as expensive as other papers that are doing well. In addition, I want you Mrs. Travis. You've proven yourself to be an excellent writer and manager. I like having talented people on my staff."
Mary sat silent for a few minutes as she allowed his words to sink in. Sell her paper? Her brief time in Raintree reminded her of everything that had been missing from her life in Four Corners. There was also the added attraction of having Billy stay with her. "I'll need to think about it," Mary said slowly.
Langton nodded. "I understand. I was wonder-"
His sentence was cut off as a shadow fell across their table. They both looked up and found Chris looming above them.
"Evening Mary," Chris said with a dry smile.
"Mr. Larabee," Mary returned coolly. She introduced him to her dinner companion who looked at the pair with interested eyes. "Mr. Chris Larabee, Mr. Frank Langton."
"Mr. Larabee," Frank greeted as he shook Chris's hand. "I believe you're one of the lawmen in Four Corners? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I couldn't let Mrs. Travis come all this way by herself, so I escorted her here."
An odd look came into Langton's eyes. "Oh, so you two came together?"
"Well, yes," Mary said, wondering at the change in Langton's tone.
"Oh, please forgive me," Langton stammered. "Mr. Larabee, won't you join us?"
"Don't mind if I do," Chris said a genial smile on his face. Mary glanced at him suspiciously. Chris was never genial. The gunslinger sat down in one of the empty chairs.
"I was just about to invite Mrs. Travis to a dance that we're holding tomorrow night," Langton continued.
"That so," Chris replied politely. "I think we're riding out tomorrow-"
"But our plans aren't definite," Mary interrupted. She smiled sweetly as Chris glowered at her. "I haven't been to a dance in such a long time."
"Good!" Frank said jovially. "Then we'll expect both of you there! It'll be at the meeting hall. Starts at seven o'clock."
"We'll be there," Mary replied.
"Ain't that a bit fast? Going to a dance with a man that you just met?" Chris asked Mary as he escorted her back to her room.
"Why Mr. Larabee, what a nasty mind you have. Mr. Langton was merely being friendly. And if you notice, he invited both of us," Mary opened her door. "That is if you want to come."
"Oh, I'll be there," Chris shot back. "But I thought you were in an all-fire hurry to get that part back to town?"
Mary's face took on an odd look. "Well yes, Mr. Larabee, but that's the advantage of being your own boss, you can do things whenever you want. Good night."
Chris sat in one of the plush chairs in the hotel lobby with a foul expression on his face. He had spent the day in the saloon and wandering around town as he waited for evening to come. If Mary hadn't been so damn eager to go to this dance, they'd be back in Four Corners now instead of this place. He'd be in his kind of company listening to another one of Buck's long-winded stories or watching Ezra get rich off some greenhorns or just sitting outside on the saloon porch with Vin watching the stars in the sky. But no, he was sitting on a red velvet cushion waiting to go to some damn dance.
He hadn't seen her the entire day. Mary had done a few more errands and spent the better part of the day holed up in her room doing God knows what. Probably resting her aching bones after that bad fall she took, something she should had been doing instead of gadding about having dinner with men she just met.
Chris glanced at the clock. Women. Take so dang burn long to get-.
His thought was abruptly cut off and his entire brain seemed to shut down as he saw her descend the staircase. The only thing in his head was the vision presented before him.
She wore a pale lavender silk dress that had a neckline much lower than what modest Mary normally wore. The hem of the dress was edged in lace as were the cuffs. It was pulled back tightly and every curve of her figure was clearly outlined. Her gold hair was upswept into a mass of curls as a ribbon, the same shade of lavender as her dress, twined through the gold strands. Small seed pearl earrings dangled from her ears. Her cheeks were pink with excitement and her eyes sparkled.
She made it down the bottom of the stairs and he became aware that many men were looking appreciatively at Mary. She seemed not to notice, but Chris snapped back to the present.
"Are you ready?" she asked as she came up to where he was seated.
Chris nodded silently and was confused by the storm of unfamiliar feelings churning within him. He masked his discomfort with a churlish attitude.
"Been ready for a long time," he said. He regretted his harsh tone immediately, especially when he saw the surprised look in her eyes. He tried to amend things. "Let me help you with your shawl."
He took the woolen cloak that Mary handed to him and gently placed it on her shoulders. He caught a whiff of her scent and felt an odd tingling in his stomach. She turned around to face him again and he found himself staring into the depths of clear blue eyes.
"We best get going," he said as he drew on his hat. He started to walk forwards, but after a moment's hesitation, he offered her his arm.
Mary gently slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and they headed for the dance.
The large townhall was brightly lit with colorful lanterns. A large crowd had gathered for the event and both the sides and the dance floor were packed with revelers. Chris and Mary hesitated a moment near the doorway until they were hailed.
"Mrs. Travis! Mr. Larabee!" Langton called out cheerily. He pushed his way towards them. "I'm glad to see that you two made it. Please, come in and have some punch."
Chris eyed the man warily. He seemed a bit too bright eyed and cheery. The gunslinger suspected the man may have indulged in a drink or two before the dance. He noted a small rectangular bulge in the man's suit coat inside pocket and suspected a flask was in there.
Acting like the good host, Langton fetched a cup of punch for Mary. Chris declined the fruity concoction. Mary had only taken a few sips when she was suddenly claimed for a dance. After a brief introduction, she graciously inclined her head and handed her cup to a silent Chris.
After that, Mary was constantly on the dance floor as one after another man claimed her for a dance. Chris stood silently on the side even though several young ladies dropped fairly obvious hints which he coldly rebuffed in his own way, silence and a hard glare.
"Beautiful woman, that Mrs. Travis," Langton said as he came up to Chris.
Chris made a noncommittal grunt.
"Hope she takes me up on my offer," Langton continued, ignoring Chris's rude answer.
"What offer?" Chris asked suspiciously.
"Why, my offer to buy The Clarion and a position here at my paper," Langton replied. He gave Chris a leer. "Be nice having her work under me."
Chris shot the man a hostile look. "What's that suppose to mean?"
Langton winked and nudged Chris in the ribs. "I think you know what it means, Mr. Larabee. We are both, after all, men of the world."
"If you mean what I think you mean," Chris said in his soft voice. "I suggest you stop thinking that way or I'd be force to take strong exception."
Langton burst out laughing and clapped Chris on the shoulder. "Now don't get your feathers ruffled Larabee! Woman like that who travels alone with a man isn't shy."
"Look, you don't know Mrs. Travis, but I do," Chris continued as he suddenly backed the man up against the wall by simply walking forward. "She's a lady if there ever was one. Now, my job is to protect her and that includes her reputation. If anyone even hints at her being anything but a lady, well," and Chris bared his teeth, "that means I gotta do my job and make sure that person don't say anything that'll hurt her. At any cost. You gettin' my meanin'?"
"Clearly," Langton swallowed as some of the alcohol left his brain. "I apologize. I just thought the two of you traveling together, alone-"
"You thought wrong," Chris interrupted. "And I suggest you never think like that again. Mrs. Travis is my friend-." Chris stopped short when that word came out. Friend? When was the last time he had used that word for anyone? Sure he thought of the other six men as his friends, but to actually say the word aloud gave him pause. And to use it where Mary was concerned, it startled him even more. He noticed Langton looking at him warily. "Anyway, I don't want to hear that kind of talk associated with Mrs. Travis, you hear?"
Langton nodded as beads of sweat popped up on his forehead. Chris saw the fear clearly written in the man's face and he nodded his head, sure that the man would not present any more problems. However, he be damned if Mary accepted a position with this scum especially now that he knew how he regarded the widow. And what the hell was she doing thinking of selling the paper? What happened to her fight to keep her husband's dream alive and all that other fine talk? And not to mention a word of this to him?
Well, why should she? another part of his mind asked him. After all, didn't you once tell Mary to leave Four Corners? That is wasn't fit for a woman?
Well, yeah, but that was before he and the other men came into town, he argued with himself.
Oh, so she should stay just because you were there now?
That ain't the same thing. It's safer now.
But not safe.
Chris snarled out loud as he realized he was carrying on a debate with himself over something that wasn't his business. He was getting out of here and damn it, she was coming with him.
He pushed his way across the dance floor where she was finishing a reel with a portly gentleman who was becoming red in the face. He didn't care if he was disrupting several different figures. He reached her right when the music ended. She was bowing to her partner when he tapped her on the shoulder.
Mary turned surprised eyes to him. "Mr. Larabee! What-"
"We're leaving," he said shortly and he grabbed her wrist and started pulling her towards the door.
Mary planted her feet stubbornly and her mouth went into a thin line, clearly indicating that there was going to be an argument. "I'm not ready to leave yet," she said in frigid tones.
"Mary-," he growled when the musicians started playing again, this time a slow waltz.
"You may leave if you wish. I'm sure Mr. Langton will be happy to escort me back to the hotel."
Chris swore under his breath at the mention of Langton's name. He suddenly drew Mary into his arms and began to waltz with her.
The widow stared at him with wide-eyes as she found herself folded into Chris's arms as he spun her expertly around the dance floor. He was an excellent dancer and he guided her perfectly through the steps. After a few turns around the floor, she realized what he was doing as he waltzed her over to the door.
Still holding her firmly in his arms, Chris glided Mary across the dance floor and out into the cloak room where he expertly plucked her shawl off a hook and dropped it over her shoulders. He kept a firm grip on her arm and led her outside. They were half-way to the hotel when she finally managed to shrug off his hand.
"And what was that all about Mr. Larabee?" she spat out angrily.
He stuck his face close to hers. "We are leaving bright and early tomorrow morning which means you need to get some sleep."
She stamped both feet loudly as she planted herself on the sidewalk. "Of all the oafish, rude, inconsiderate behavior-," she started.
"Inconsiderate!" he shouted. "I escorted you all the way out here."
"Well, who asked you?" she shot back.
"Yeah, and leave you to every bandit, outlaw and rapist in the Western Territory, not to mention that scum Langton!"
"Mr. Langton," Mary blinked. "What does he have to do with anything?"
He moved closer to her and Mary instinctively backed up to maintain a small amount of distance between them. She felt her back strike the wall of the grocery store they were standing outside of. Chris moved closer to her and only a sliver of space separated them. He leaned down and spoke quietly.
"He told me about the offer he made to you." He had the satisfaction of seeing a slightly guilty look leap into her eyes. "And how he was waiting to get you underneath him," he gave the words the same double meaning Langton had, but coming from Chris with that soft, honeyed voice, they sounded more licentious. Mary blushed furiously.
"Oh," she said, at a loss for words. She dropped her eyes. "I see."
"You thinking of selling the paper to that type of man?" he asked quietly. For some reason, he waited anxiously for her answer.
Mary sighed and looked up into his eyes. She found their faces close to each other, very close. She turned her head away and pushed off from the wall and started walking slowly down the sidewalk to the hotel. Chris fell into step with her.
"I did consider it," Mary said quietly after they had walked in silence for a few feet. She sighed sharply. "Sometimes, well, sometimes, life just seems so hard. I just get so tired of dealing with it all."
"What do you mean, Mary?" he asked quietly, surprised to hear the defeated note in her voice.
"The town, the paper, everything," she replied. They had reached the hotel and Mary sat down on one of the porch swings placed in a dark, far corner at the end of the porch. Chris perched himself on the railing before her and waited patiently for her to continue.
"I never wanted the paper," she said as she smiled wryly at Chris. "It was Steven's dream, not mine." She sighed heavily as if saying the words relieved some heavy burden from her shoulders. "My family has been in the newspaper business for years and I worked at one of our papers in Boston, but I never really wanted to start one out here."
"Then why don't you sell up and leave?" Chris asked.
"I told you once before, Mr. Larabee," Mary said. "It's Billy's legacy. I have no right to just throw it over."
"I'm sure he rather have his momma with him than the paper," Chris replied. From the way they were positioned, Mary's face was lit by the lamps on the porch, but Chris's face was in the shadows. She could not see the disappointment in his face as he thought about the possibility of Mary leaving.
"It's not just that," Mary said in a low voice as she blushed that pretty shade of pink he was beginning to like. "You see, when I took over the paper after," she swallowed hard, "Steven was killed, I found out something."
"What?"
"I was good at it," she smiled. "I was very good at it. And I liked it. You have to understand, all my life, I lived safely surrounded by family. This is my first time out on my own and I enjoy it. I like being independent and free. And I like making a difference. Helping people." Her smile turned into a wry grin. "I guess you can say I'm enjoying my taste of power. Does that make me a corrupt and evil person?"
She could hear the gunslinger chuckling softly. "No, Mary, I guess it's natural for someone who's felt as if they've been caged all their life to enjoy their first taste of independence and be willing to fight anyone who tried to take it away."
"If I had taken your advice a few months ago, Mr. Larabee, and sold up, I think I would be sitting in some parlor listening to idle gossip from a group of women who think of nothing else but their toilet or I would be knitting. I'm not a good knitter Mr. Larabee."
She heard him laugh again and he pushed off the porch railing to sit down next to her on the swing.
"That's why you got so upset that I insisted on coming along with you? Thought I was threatening your independence?"
"No," Mary said quietly. "I didn't think that. I just wanted to get away from everything for a little while. To not think about things. Surely Mr. Larabee, you've felt like that? A need to just go off by yourself without any reminders of what you're leaving behind."
"Every single day of my life," Chris said so softly she thought she must have heard wrong.
They sat silently in the darkness as Mary waited to see if he would say anything else.
"Times in my life, that I just want to hit the road. Have nuthing tying me down to no one or anything. Don't like being restricted."
"What stops you from doing that?" Mary asked quietly even as she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.
"Found out no matter how much you want to run, whatever you runnin' from always catches up to you. So you try to forget."
"By drinking yourself into a blind stupor?"
He looked at her in surprise.
"It's hard not to notice," she replied dryly.
Chris gave her a wry grin. "Nah, I drink to dull the pain."
"Your wife and child."
He looked sharply at her and she could see the walls shooting up, but Mary would be damned if he brushed her off again.
"Oh please!" she snapped out, her irritation evident. "You think you loved your wife more than I loved my husband? That you feel more pain than I do? Pain and loss cannot be measured, Mr. Larabee. You can't say you've suffered more than I have because suffering is different for everyone. But everyone who's lost someone they've loved does have one thing in common. Not the pain, not the suffering, but the loss. That void."
"I lost everything," he snarled out and started to stand when he felt her grip his arm with surprising strength. Chris was so surprised that he allowed himself to be yanked back down into the porch swing.
"No, you haven't. You have one thing that no one can ever take away from you," she whispered fiercely.
"What's that?" he asked harshly even though he was curious.
"You have them here," Mary said as she placed her hand over her heart. "Where they will always be and where they will always live." She looked hard into his eyes and he could see the tears brimming there. "The only way they will ever truly be dead is if you let them die there." One tear fell down her cheek, leaving a wet track on the smooth, white skin. "I believe that. I have to. I cannot accept that all that is left of Steven is a pile of dust and bones in the Four Corners graveyard and an old printing press. He was more. He meant more!"
"You have Billy," Chris said in a strangled voice. "You still have your child!"
"Yes, and I thank God everyday that I do still have him," she continued in her fierce tone. "But the amount of loss suffered cannot be counted by the number of people dead. That cheapens that love and the people." She leaned closer to him and spoke earnestly. "You lost your family, but you haven't lost them. What things that made you love them. Those feelings. They stay here." Again she thumped her heart. "To think or do otherwise makes a mockery of all that there was between you."
"You really believe that, don't you?" he asked, a bit amazed.
"Mr. Larabee, you get through your pain and mourning in your way, and I'll do it in mine," Mary replied. She searched her pocketbook for a handkerchief when Chris suddenly handed her his. "Thank you," she said in surprise as she dabbed at her eyes.
"Remembering them, huh?" Chris said.
"It's a start," Mary sniffed as she continued to dry her eyes. She looked up at his profile as he stared out into the night. "I remember Steven every day. Every time I write a story or print out a new edition, it reminds me of him." She laughed softly. "And you might think me insane, but I use him as a barometer for my actions. I never do anything that I would not have done if Steven was alive." She smiled. "Steven's memory keeps me honest."
He wondered how true those words were or if she said them for his benefit. Sarah would have hated the way he was living with the drinking and whoring and not giving a damn about living or dying. He smiled as he thought of her reaction. If Sarah was alive, she be mad as hell and give him what for.
Chris was shocked. The dull ache of pain was still there, but he actually could think of Sarah and smile. For the first time in a long time, he could remember his wife without the searing pain lacing through his body. It was a memory that made him feel better.
He turned to look at Mary who was watching him closely. No, he couldn't share that with her. Not now. It was all too fresh and sore for him to go there with anyone. Besides, he be damned if he admit she was right.
He saw Mary narrow her eyes and a small cat-like grin crossed her face. Chris had the uneasy feeling that she knew anyway. He abruptly changed the subject.
"You selling out?" Chris asked after a minute or two of silence.
Her silence began to make him nervous until he heard her low voice. "No. I don't think I will." She threw him another wry smile. "I don't think I would enjoy working under Mr. Langton."
Chris barked out a laugh and looked at the slightly evil gleam in Mary's eye. He had never seen this side of the widow before and he found it enjoyable. And attractive. He stood up and offered her his hand.
Mary placed her small hand in his larger one and he gently tugged her up. He held it as they faced each other in silence in the dim light on the porch. For a moment, they both became lost in each other's eyes. What they saw there frightened them and they hastily dropped their hands.
"I'll take you to your room," Chris mumbled.
They quietly entered the hotel and up the stairs. They paused outside of Mary's door as she fished out the key. She turned it in the lock and pushed the door open. Mary turned around before going into the room.
"Tomorrow at 6 a.m., we'll meet for breakfast?" she asked.
Chris nodded.
"Good night, Mr. Larabee."
"Good night, Mary." She started to close the door when he called out. "Mary?" She paused and looked at him. "Your dress is real pretty."
She smiled a sweet smile that seemed to warm his heart. "Thank you," she said softly as she closed the door.
It was early evening the next day when they arrived in Four Corners. Buck and Vin greeted them and were surprised to see Mary on horseback.
"You have trouble?" Vin asked as he helped Mary down.
"Wagon got busted," Chris replied as he swung off his horse. "Needed to come back this way."
"There wasn't any other trouble or anything like that?" Buck asked with a nervous laugh as he looked from Chris to Mary.
"Why would there be trouble, Buck?" Chris asked with a frown.
"The trip was very successful," Mary replied. "But thank you for your interest." She turned to Chris. "Thank you for the escort, Mr. Larabee."
Chris tipped his hat. "Ma'am."
"We'll take care of your horse Miz Travis," Vin offered. He unhooked the saddle and carpet bags and handed them to Mary.
"Thank you, Mr. Tanner. Gentlemen," Mary nodded and went into her building.
Vin, Chris and Buck headed for the stables. The tall man immediately began to question his friend.
"So what happened?" Buck asked eagerly.
"What are you talking about?" Chris asked as he began to rub his horse down.
"You know, with you and Miz Travis. Alone together, in another town. Staying at the same place."
"Buck, not everyone is the horny hound you are," Chris said dryly. "She ain't that type neither."
"Oh, so you tried," Buck chortled.
Chris gave his old friend a warning look. "Nothing happened. And I better not hear any talk that says the opposite."
Buck held up his hands. "Fine. You want to be that way, that's fine with ol' Buck." He stomped off muttering under his breath, "I always tell him everything."
Vin finished with Mary's horse and looked at Chris. "Nuthin' happened, eh?"
Chris sighed sharply. "Not you too?"
"Hell, I don't think like Buck. I know Miz Travis wouldn't do nothing improper, but-"
"But?"
"I dunno. You two seem different. Like the air's been cleared between you, or sumthing."
Chris eyed the tracker suspiciously. The look was all Vin needed and he grinned. He tipped his hat to the gunslinger and sauntered out of the stables.
Chris swore creatively underneath his breath. He made a mental note to never lie to Vin. He picked up his saddle bags and he felt a rectangular object bump against his back. He pulled out a small box and realized he forgot to give it to Mary.
He hesitated for a moment and then made his way over to The Clarion. He knocked on Mary's front door and waited patiently for her to open it.
"Chris," she said in surprise, slipping out of the formal "Mr. Larabee" she had been calling him the entire trip.
"I got this for you and forgot to give it to you." He thrust the small package into her hand and tipped his hat. Chris turned on his heel and strode off towards the boarding house.
Mary stared after him in surprise and opened the package. It was a bottle of rosewater to replace her broken one. She smiled and stared at the figure that was beginning to blend in with the darkness of the night. She laughed a soft laugh and closed her front door.
The End
