Inez hurried around the bar and knelt beside the downed healer. Blood flowed from a wound low on his right side. She ripped open his shirt and bit back a gasp at the angry bullet wound. She tore a piece off her skirt and pressed it against the bloody hole. She heard the men at the bar and sneered as one of them asked if there was a doctor in town. She turned an icy glance towards them as she answered.
"We do have a doctor, but you just shot him!" She felt Jackson try to sit up and pressed him down firmly. "Just be still, Senor," she ordered.
"C...Chris."
"He's not here yet," Inez told him.
"Ya gotta warn him," Jackson muttered painfully as his eyes slid shut.
"I will, Nathan," Inez said as she picked up Jackson's gun and pointed it at the three remaining men. "Get out of here," she hissed.
Chris heard Inez's voice and stood to the side of the double doors. He drew his gun and held it in front of him, praying the newcomers would do as Inez ordered. He breathed deeply as he heard footsteps coming towards the door.
Wilson smiled at the Mexican woman and nodded to his two remaining men. "Let's go find my boy," he laughed.
Larabee knew who they were and knew right away who the man was talking about. He swore he'd take them down and make sure it would be safe for the boy to return to his mother. He held his breath as two men stepped through the door. He pointed his gun and waited for their reaction. He knew there were two more inside and wondered how badly Nathan Jackson was injured. "Drop the guns, Boys," he warned as the two men turned towards him. "Drop 'em?" he warned again as he cocked his weapon.
Marshall smiled thinly as he looked at the dark clad man standing to the right of the door. He knew by the stance this was a man to be reckoned with, a man who knew how to use a gun and wouldn't think twice about shooting him. He slowly lowered his weapon
Chris watched as the two men lowered their weapons. He knew the taller man was the more dangerous of the two and he kept his body taut as he watched them both. "I said drop 'em!" he snapped as Marshall's hand came up. Chris's finger depressed the trigger and the big man dropped lifelessly to the dust covered boardwalk. Larabee's hand turned to the second man before the man had a chance to realize what was happening. "Tell your friends to get out here!" he ordered.
"T...there's no one else," Jordan lied.
"Don't fuck with me!" Larabee snapped. "There's two more and I want them out here now!"
"I...I can't."
Wilson heard the two men talking and made his move. He slammed the doors of the saloon open and grabbed the smaller man, using him as a shield.
Chris watched as a large form came through the door and fired instinctively. He registered a cry of alarm from the smaller man just before the body was thrown at him. Chris fell to the ground, his gun slipping from his grasp. He shoved the body off just as the big man reached out and grasped him around the throat.
Wilson glared at the blond as he pulled him to his feet. "Whoever you are you'd best tell me where I can find my boy!"
Larabee struggled to get the hands off his throat. He tried to slip his fingers under the vice like grip. His vision began to blur and he knew he was in trouble. A picture of the small boy Gloria Potter was looking after gave him strength, and he brought both hands over his head. He slammed them together on the larger man's ears, hoping to cause the grip to weaken. His own ears were ringing as he tried the same move again. This time the outlaw released him and clasped his ears.
Larabee dropped to his knees and tried to breathe. The reprieve didn't last long, but this time he was ready for it. He launched his foot out and connected with a knee. He heard a cry, but there was no time to take satisfaction from it. He stood on shaky legs and once more moved towards the man. They traded blows for a few minutes until Larabee finally connected with a solid uppercut to Wilson's chin. The man stood for a few minutes and then silently slumped to the ground.
Chris sank to his knees and rubbed at his raw throat. He looked at the three men, one dead and two unconscious. His head came up as he realized there was still another man. He picked up the three guns and placed them in his waistband. He spotted his own discarded weapon and picked it up, holding it in front of his bruised body. He glanced down at the unconscious men and then hurried through the batwing doors. His eyes fell on Inez as she lifted the weapon towards him. He saw her relief as she recognized him.
"Where's the other one?"
"Behind the bar. Nathan shot him and I think he's dead."
Chris hurried to the bar and checked on the man. He knew immediately the man was dead, evidenced by the open, unseeing eyes. Larabee turned back to his friend and the woman. "How is he?"
"He's got a bullet in him, Senor, but he's alive."
"Are you alright with him for a minute? I need to take care of the garbage out front before he wakes up," Larabee asked.
"Si, Senor, I can take care of him," she assured the gunslinger.
Chris looked down at his unconscious friend before turning towards the door. His eyes widened as the large outlaw busted through them, his gun drawn. Chris pulled his own and lifted it. Two shots sounded as one and both men fell to the floor of the saloon. The only sound, the frightened cry of the woman holding the injured healer. The only movement, the smoke that billowed from the discharged weapons, discarded on the floor beside their rightful owners.
Inez stared at the blond gunslinger, a sickening dread in the pit of her stomach as she watched blood pool from a wound in his upper chest. She moved away from the injured healer and checked on the gunslinger. She ripped another piece from her skirt and pulled open the black shirt. The tiny wound produced more blood than she thought possible and she leaned heavily on it. She heard a small gasp as two glazed, green eyes opened and staring up at her.
"I...Inez, you a...alright?" he asked through the agonizing pain flaring in his chest.
"I'm fine, Senor. It's you and Senor Jackson who need help. You just stay there while I go get some of the men to help me get you both to the clinic."
"H...how bad is N...Nathan?" Larabee asked worriedly.
Inez glanced quickly towards the unconscious man and then back to the blond. "He's got a bullet in his side. I've stopped the bleeding, but he's still lost a lot blood. I'll be right back, Senor."
"O...okay," Larabee rasped as the pain overwhelmed him. He lifted his left hand and placed it over the wound in his chest. He knew it was bad, knew by the way each breath burned as it entered his throat. He closed his eyes, but couldn't surrender to the call of darkness until he knew the boy's father was dead. He turned onto his side and dragged himself hand over hand until he laid next to the big man. He reached up and touched the neck with his bloodied left hand. Chris let his head drop to the hard floor as he realized the man who'd beaten Tommy Wilson was dead, and would never hurt the child again. A deep sadness slammed into his chest as he realized he wouldn't be around to share in the joy when the boy was reunited with his mother.
Inez ran from the saloon, screaming for help in the darkening streets. All around her people began to open their doors a crack, unsure whether it was safe to come out or not. She spotted Yosemite coming out of the livery and hurried towards him. "I need help. Senor Jackson and Senor Larabee have been shot. Get some of the men to help me get them to the clinic."
"How bad are they?" Yosemite asked as he reached her.
"They are both very bad. They're in the saloon with those other men. I think the others are dead, but I don't know. there's so much blood on them. We need to help them. Are the others back yet?" Inez knew she was rambling, but couldn't stop herself. "I'm going to get Mrs. Potter. Mary's still visiting her son and his grandparents.."
"It's okay, Miss Inez. You go get Mrs. Potter. I'll take care of getting Mr. Larabee and Mr. Jackson to the clinic. We'll make sure those outlaws are thrown in jail until we can take care of them."
Inez nodded and hurried to Potter's store. She was greeted by the older woman, who held a small sobbing child in her arms. She knew the background story on the boy having heard the rumors around the small town during the day. "I'm going to need your help," she told the storeowner.
"What's happened, Inez?" Gloria asked worriedly.
"Four men came into the saloon. They shot Senor Jackson and Senor Larabee..."
"Oh my, Lord! Are they hurt bad?" At Inez's nod she looked at the frightened boy. "Its ok, Tommy. Mr. Larabee will be okay." She knew from the short time she spent with the boy that the dark clad gunslinger had made an impression on the child. She knew of the deaths of Larabee's own wife and child and realized why the bond took hold so quickly. The man and the boy each suffered a great loss in different ways and saw a kindred spirit in each other. "Inez, is someone going to bring them to the clinic?"
"Si. Yosemite is rounding up some men to take care of them and put the outlaws in jail."
"That's good. Now you go to the clinic and get things ready there. I wish Vin and the others were back."
"Me too, Mrs. Potter. Hopefully they'll arrive early tomorrow morning," Inez said as she hurried towards the clinic.
Dawn was just brightening the morning sky when the five peacekeepers moved out of the clearing. Something woke them earlier than normal and each man knew when to heed their instincts. Vin and Buck hurried to ready the horses, neither man taking the time to eat or drink coffee. Josiah and JD prepared a simple breakfast, which went mostly untouched. Even the stoic gambler seemed to have a sense of impending doom. So it was that half an hour after waking up to total darkness the peacekeepers mounted up and galloped towards their home. Neither man realized that the others were saying a silent prayer they'd find their two friends seated in their normal spots outside the saloon.
Yosemite and the other men of the town quickly moved Larabee and Jackson into the clinic. Once finished they removed the dead bodies from the saloon and moved the one live outlaw into the jail. The man wasn't injured, but was knocked out when Wilson shoved him into Chris Larabee.
Inez cared for the injured healer while Gloria looked after the gunslinger. Neither woman knew anything about removing bullets, especially ones as serious and potentially life threatening as those inflicted on the two men. Both peacekeepers were sporting the signs of a fever and muttering under their breath. Neither man woke up while they were stripped of their clothing and placed on the beds. The two women knew they needed to cool them down and hope that the other peacekeepers returned before it was too late.
Tommy Wilson was being cared for by the Miller family. Gloria hated leaving the child, yet she knew there was little choice. She needed to help save the lives of two of the men responsible for returning Four Corners to a town they could all be proud of. She dipped the cloth into the water and once more wiped the sweat from the blond head. The morning sun shone through the windows and she knew today would be another scorcher. She gasped as Larabee's body began to thrash on the bed.
"Goddamn you, you d...don't hurt a c...child! I'm sorry, A...Adam, I t...tried to s...stop him!"
Gloria held his shoulders and sobbed as she realized the injured man had substituted his own dead son for the abused child he rescued early the day before. She spoke soothingly as she struggled to keep the man on the bed. His weak cries tore at her heart. She had children of her own and would make sure no one harmed them. She watched as fever bright eyes opened and knew the man was not seeing her.
"Adam! No! G...get a....away from him. S...sorry, T...Tommy....Oh, God..." Larabee's pain filled mind struggled to focus, to dispatch the pain of seeing the battered bodies of two small boys. Somehow he knew one was real and one wasn't, but it didn't matter, a child was hurt and he needed to save him. "I...I'll kill y...you if you h...hurt him again!" he vowed and tried to fight off the hands that held him to the bed.
"Mr. Larabee...Chris, it's okay. Tommy's with Martha. He's fine. Now you just lie there and we'll get you well so you can see him!" Gloria Potter feared for the life of the two men. Nathan Jackson was the town healer, most thought he was better than any doctor. A man with a healing touch, but now he was in the opposite bed, a bullet buried deep in his side. There was no way he could help the man she was looking after. This time the healer would need someone with a healing touch of his own. Again she bathed the face and chest, fear clutching at her heart as she listened to the gunslinger's labored breathing.
Inez was busy with the quiet healer. He hadn't moved since they'd brought him to the clinic. She could feel the fever emanating from his body. The angry wound in his side seemed to be swollen and she wondered what kind of damage the bullet caused internally. When the man on the other bed began to cry out, Jackson's eyes opened for the first time. She forced him back on the bed as he labored to sit up. She knew by the unfocused brown eyes he wasn't completely awake, yet somehow he heard the pain filled voice of a friend.
Nathan recognized the cry and knew Chris Larabee was in trouble. He tried to sit up, but found he was too weak to fight the hands that held him down. He turned to see Inez seated beside him. The memories of the encounter with the four men slammed back into his mind, at the same instant the wound in his side rekindled with newfound agony. He gasped and lay back against the pillows. He waited for the blackness to dissolve and slowly turned to the young woman. "C...Chris?"
Inez turned and met Gloria Potter's gaze. A slight shake of the head warned her that things were not good for the blond. She turned back to Nathan Jackson and forced a small smile to her face. "He's o...okay," she stammered fearfully.
"H...how bad?" Jackson asked forcefully.
"He's been shot in the chest," she answered, knowing to lie would only increase the healer's torment.
"B...bullet out?"
"No."
Nathan tried once more to sit up, his right hand held tightly against his wounded side.
"Where do you think you're going, Senor?" Inez asked.
"H...help...Chris," Jackson answered as if that was a given.
"You can't do anything for him. In case you've forgotten you've got a bullet in you as well. Yosemite left a few hours ago to see if he could find Senor Tanner and the others. You have to lie there and wait for their arrival."
"Need to get the bullet out," Jackson ordered.
"I know, Senor, but for now just lie still. Would you like some water?"
"P...please," Jackson drank a few drops and then closed his eyes. "C...Chris drink anything?"
"Not yet," Inez answered.
"Try...g...get h...him drink..." Jackson's voice faded on the last word.
The two women looked at each other, worry and fear mirrored on both faces. Sighing they turned back to the wounded men and prayed the others would arrive soon.
Vin pulled Peso to a stop and knew the others did the same. "Rider comin'," he said by way of explanation. "Seems ta be in a hurry." He put his hand on his mare's leg and pulled it from the scabbard. He dropped it back in place as he recognized Yosemite riding towards them.
"Vin, you guys gotta come quick. There's been a shooting in town."
"Shooting? Who?" Wilmington asked fearing the answer, knowing in his heart one of two men were injured. His eyes flared in anger as he heard Yosemite's answer.
"Chris and Nathan," the liveryman answered.
"What? How bad?" Dunne asked.
"Bad. Nathan's got one in the side. Chris took one to the chest. The bullets are still in 'em. Mrs. Potter and Miss Inez are lookin' after 'em, but they don't know how ta take the bullets out."
"How the hell'd they get shot?" Wilmington snarled.
"There'll be enough time for those answers later, Buck, I think we need to go tend to our brothers," Sanchez told him.
"Josiah's right, Buck. Let's ride!" Tanner ordered. Six riders turned and raced towards Four Corners, intent on making it there in time to help the injured men.
Inez moved to the door and out onto the landing as she heard the sound of horses. She breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized the six riders. She hurried back inside and looked towards the disheveled woman trying to sooth a trembling Chris Larabee. "It's Senor Tanner and the others," she told her as she made the sign of the cross on her body.
"Thank God," Gloria said as she looked down at the wounded man, placing a hand on the fevered brow. "Helps here, Mr. Larabee."
"H...help? Help T...Tommy. Promised I'd h...help h...him. A...always l...lie. N...never any h...help to a...anyone. A...always...fail," the gunslinger's weak voice whispered.
"You didn't fail, Chris. Tommy's going to be fine and when you're up to it you can help him find his mother." She looked toward the door as five men hurried through. She watched the faces as each man looked from one bed to the other, unsure of which one needed them more.
Vin knew both men were in trouble and he fought against the pain rising in his chest. Chris Larabee was his best friend, a man he'd let into his soul. A man he shared an unseen and unexplained connection with. Someone he thought of as a brother. He stared at the other man. A man he knew possessed a power beyond the realm of most men. Nathan Jackson was a man with a healing touch and now it looked like he was in need of that touch as much as Chris Larabee was. Setting aside his emotions he let his experience take over and he moved into the clinic.
"Josiah, Ezra, check Nathan and see if ya can tell 'ow deep the bullet is. Inez, Mrs. Potter, round up as much ice as ya can. Whiskey too. JD, put Nathan's instrument in that pot of hot water. Buck, help me with Chris." No one questioned Vin Tanner's orders, automatically thinking of him as Chris Larabee's second in command.
Sanchez knelt beside the bed holding the injured healer. He watched as the gambler moved to the other side of the bed. They pulled the blanket down and removed the blood stained bandage. Josiah kept his emotions in check as he noted the slightly swollen entry wound. Blood still seeped from the tiny hole, but Josiah knew any movement would start the bleeding all over again. He touched the tiny hole and carefully prodded it. "Vin, I can get the bullet out. It's deep, but I don't think it hit anything but muscle. He's gonna be hurtin' for quite some time, but I think he's gonna be just fine. Ezra, I'm gonna need you to hold him down."
"Alright, Josiah. JD, use the tongs and get the instruments out fer Josiah. Buck, can ya pass Josiah Nathan's bottle of Laudanum? Josiah, give it ta him if he starts ta wake up." Tanner ordered as he knelt beside the bed holding the fevered body of Chris Larabee. He could hear the others moving around but he only had eyes for the pale blond. He pulled back the thin blanket and lifted the heavy bandage from Larabee's chest. 'Damn!' he silently swore as he noticed the heavy bruising around the man's neck. He prayed it was the cause of Larabee's haggard breathing, because it was something he could deal with by packing ice around it. His main fear was that the breathing problems were coming from a damaged lung. If that was the case his search for the bullet in his friend's chest would probably cause his death. Vin looked up as Wilmington returned.
"How does it look, Vin?" the ladies man asked in hushed tones.
"It's not good, Buck. The bullets lodged in his chest. I got no idea how deep and his breathing has me worried. There's no blood bubblin' up in his throat or leakin' from his mouth so I don't think it hit his lung."
"Why does his breathing sound so bad?" Tanner pointed to Larabee's throat and Wilmington caught his first sight of the heavy bruising in the shape of a man's fingers. "Son of a bitch. What're we gonna do?"
"I saw Nathan helping a man whose throat was hurtin' 'im by packin' it in ice. He put the ice in a towel and wrapped it around his neck, said it helped with the swellin'. That's 'bout all we can do. I'm prayin' that's what's causin' the harsh breathin', Buck, 'cause there ain't nothin' I can do if it's his lung."
"What do you need me to do?" Wilmington asked as he watched Gloria and Inez return with the ice and whiskey.
"We gotta get the bullet out of 'im. It ain't gonna be easy. I've watched Nathan and I've even helped him when it's a hard one, but I've never done it by myself, leastwise not a serious one like this."
Wilmington heard the worry in the tracker's voice and knew the younger man feared he would kill his best friend. He reached over the injured man and touched the trembling shoulder. "Vin, you know how much Chris Larabee means to me?" Tanner nodded briefly. "Well, I'm trustin' those instincts of yours to pull him through. You're the only chance he's got."
"Buck..."
"Vin, what chance does he have if we don't get the bullet out. If you leave it to me then he's not gonna make it. I know I'm not steady enough to go in there and find the bullet and then take it out. Nathan once told me he thought you had a healing touch. I believed him then and I believe in you now. What do you want me to do?"
Tanner swallowed through the lump in his throat. The thought that Buck Wilmington was trusting him with the life of his best friend drove back his own fears. He sighed heavily and looked towards JD Dunne. He briefly wondered where the two women disappeared to, but didn't have time to voice the question. "JD, bring me the rest of Nathan's instruments," he ordered, saying a silent prayer of thanks that the town gifted the healer with a second set the month before. "How's he doing Josiah?"
Sanchez ignored the question and concentrated on his hands. He heard Standish tell the others that Josiah was going for the bullet. The ex-preacher bit his bottom lip as he sank the probe deeper into the swollen flesh. They'd managed to get Jackson to drink a small amount of Laudanum, but still the healer fought the invasion into his body. "Hold him still, Ezra!" Sanchez ordered, his voice a little harsher than he wanted. He continued with the probe, mentally reminding himself to apologize to the conman when this was all over. His hands were slippery with the healer's blood and he gripped the probe more tightly. "I've got it," he said and grabbed for a second instrument. He sank this one into the wound and quickly extracted the smashed piece of metal. He turned and looked at the face of his friend, glad to see the man was unconscious, but still breathing.
"We need to clean it up and get the bleeding stopped, Ezra," he snapped. "JD, pass me a bottle of whiskey."
Dunne did as he was asked, not once did it enter his mind to be angry at being ordered around. He picked up one of the four bottles of whiskey and passed it to Josiah Sanchez. He turned and looked for Nathan's medical bag, knowing they'd need to stitch the wound.
Buck nodded at Tanner that he was ready. He grasped Larabee's shoulders and held him still.
Vin took a deep breath as he lifted the instrument. He pressed against the tiny opening and watched as Larabee's upper body struggled away from the added torment. "JD, I need ya over 'ere!" he snapped as he pulled the probe back.
The young easterner hurried across the room and knelt beside Buck Wilmington. "What should I do?" he asked.
"Bring me the Laudanum," Tanner ordered. JD hurried to get the medicine and passed it to the sharpshooter. "I got something for ya ta drink, Cowboy," the tracker said, unsure whether Larabee could hear him or not. He watched as Wilmington lifted the head and he poured a small amount of the liquid into the still lips. He was surprised to see Larabee's throat work as he swallowed the vile tasting liquid. He heard Jackson's cry and knew Sanchez was cleaning the wound. He turned his head and met the eyes of the gambler and wasn't surprised to see the tears in the sad green eyes. He nodded and slowly turned back to Chris Larabee. "Alright, boys, lets do this."
"What do you want me to do?" JD asked.
"Hold his waist, Kid!" the ladies man hissed and was pleased to see the young man get a solid grip on the blond's waist.
Tanner tuned out everything but the job before him. His friend's life rested in his hands and he prayed he wouldn't fail. He looked at his hands, knowing they would soon be covered in Larabee's blood and wondered if he did indeed have a healing touch. He placed the probe at the opening of the wound and steeled himself against the cries he knew he was about to illicit from the injured man. Squaring his shoulders he pressed against the opening. Tears tracked down his face at the pain he was causing, but with grim determination his hand sank the probe deeper. Time stood still for him as he fought to save the life of his friend. He felt the probe come up against the bullet and he knew this would be the hard part. Through it all he knew Buck and JD were there, talking quietly to the gunslinger, soothing him in hopes to keep him with them. Still he ignored everything around him as he pulled the bullet free and the body sank back to the bed. His heart skipped a beat as he listened for the haggard breathing that was a constant since they entered the room. "Chris!" he gasped as he realized there was no sound from the injured man. He heard his cry of alarm echoed by Buck and JD.
"Don't you quit now, Larabee! I got the fuckin' bullet out and that was the hardest part. Now all ya gotta do is let yerself heal. Ya hear me, Chris? Yer not dead until I tell ya yer dead and that ain't gonna be fer a long time yet." he shouted, as he pulled the blond into his arms. Tears glistened on his face as he rocked the lean form in his arms. His eyes met those of the ladies man and he knew he was feeling the same way. "Ya can't go, Chris."
"N...not g...goin...a...anywhere."
Wilmington, Dunne, and Tanner smiled in relief as the tracker eased the heaving body back on the bed. "Yer damn right 'bout that, C...Cowboy," Tanner's voice broke on the last word. He knew in his heart they'd come close to losing this man they all thought of as indestructible.
Josiah smiled as he turned his attention back to the healer. He continued to stitch the wound together and poured a liberal amount of whiskey over the wound. An almost inaudible gasp escaped from the injured man as the whiskey cleaned the wound. "All done, Brother," Sanchez assured his friend as a pair of brown eyes opened and tried to focus on him.
"J...Josiah?"
The ex-preacher smiled as the eyes finally focused. "That's right, Nathan. How are you feeling?"
"I...I'm fine..."
A hearty laugh escaped from Sanchez at the two words spoken by the healer. He heard the relieved laughter of the others in the room and knew they'd all caught the healer's reply to his question. "You lie about as well as the rest of us, Nathan," Josiah's booming voice resounded through the clinic.
"W...wha's f...funny?" the dark skinned man asked as his eyes drifted closed.
"I'll tell you later, Brother," Sanchez said as he finished bandaging the wound.
Vin stared into the glazed green eyes and knew there was still more pain too come. "Chris I'm gonna have ta clean and stitch that up."
"I...I know," Larabee's voice wheezed through his throat. "W...water."
Buck quickly poured a glass from the jug on the table and placed it in front of his friend's mouth. "Go slow, Pard," he ordered.
The gunslinger tried to swallow the liquid, but his throat wouldn't cooperate. The water barely made it down into his stomach as he turned his head away. "T...throat h...hurts," he rasped and his eyes opened wide. "Tommy, is he alright?"
"Who's Tommy?" the ladies man asked as Vin retrieved a bottle of whiskey and prepared to clean the vicious looking wound.
"Tommy's f...father's the one w...who shot me. He b...beat the b...boy. Mrs. P...Potter's looking a...after him. P...please, B...Buck, make s...sure he's okay. P...promised him I'd g...get him b...back to h...his m...mother," Larabee wheezed.
"I'll check on him as soon as we finish with you and Nathan."
"N...Nathan...gonna be o...okay?"
"He's gonna be fine," Tanner assured him. "The two of ya are gonna be cell mates 'ere in his clinic for some time ta come though. I've gotta finish this now, Chris." He saw the nod of approval and slowly poured the whiskey over the wound. For the second time in less than half an hour a scream of pain erupted in the clinic. Tanner watched as Larabee's eyes closed and he once more lay still, but this time the raspy breathing assured him his friend remained with them. He stitched the wound, bandaged it, and looked down at his blood stained hands. A heavy weight lifted off his shoulders as he realized this blood would never flow through his friend's body, but there was enough still inside him to insure the man would live to see and fight another day. He stood up, walked to the table, and washed his hands in one of the basins. He looked into the second basin and realized Sanchez must've already cleaned his hands. He looked to the healer and knew Josiah Sanchez, whether he realized it or not, also had a healing touch.
Tanner turned his attention to the deeply bruised neck. He picked up a clean towel and placed ice inside it. He returned to the bed and the still form and gently placed the ice pack around his friend's neck. He sat back in the chair, and rubbed his neck in an effort to ease his aching muscles.
The five healthy men looked up as the door opened and Mrs. Potter and Inez entered the clinic. Both women carried trays laden with food and drinks. On Inez's tray was a pot of steaming coffee. The two women placed the trays on the table and turned towards the men.
"How are they?" Gloria Potter asked worriedly.
"Vin and Josiah got the bullets out," Dunne's excited voice answered.
"They should both be fine if we can keep them resting," Sanchez assured them.
"Well, Gentlemen, that's very good news," Mrs. Potter smiled at the tired looking men. She knew they probably didn't even realize how much time passed since they began the fight to save their two friends. "It's been a long day for all of us. Inez and I made dinner for you. Make sure you all eat. No arguments," she ordered.
"Thank you, Ma'am," Tanner said gratefully. He knew by the rumbling in his stomach that he was hungry. He also knew they'd need to keep their strength in order to look after the two injured peacekeepers. "Can you tell us what happened?" he asked as he accepted a plate of chicken and potatoes from Inez.
"I'll tell you what I know," Mrs. Potter said. She told the tale Nathan Jackson relayed to her on the morning Chris Larabee found Tommy Wilson. Inez filled in the parts Gloria missed, including what she'd witnessed in the saloon. By the time they finished the tale the five peacekeepers knew every detail of the past two days.
By the time night fell over the town the men were seated around the clinic. Josiah knew they needed to work in shifts as he suggested. "We're gonna need to be ready for anything. Chris and Nathan are both showing sign of fevers and we're gonna need to be rested to look after them. Vin, Buck, Ezra, why don't you three go get some sleep. JD and I can look after them for tonight. You can spell us in the morning."
"I'm staying," Buck and Vin said in unison.
Josiah shook his head, already expecting this answer. "Alright, you two have the first shift," he said as he stood up and stretched. He left the clinic, Ezra and JD on his heels.
Buck and Vin looked at each other and settled down to watch over the injured men.
For two days both men suffered in the throes of a fever, their friends and other members of the town doing everything they could to cool the two men down.
On the morning of the third day a pair of eyes opened and glanced around the clinic. He coughed and groaned and was grateful when a cup of cool water was placed in front of his lips. He drank greedily and looked into the blue eyes sitting beside him. "T...thanks, Buck."
"You're welcome. How are you feeling?"
"F...fine, I think. How's..."
"He's not doin' well," Wilmington's voice was filled with pain as he turned towards the second bed.
"What's wrong?"
Wilmington knew he revealed too much and placed his hands on the shoulders of the man on the bed. "Lie still. You've just come out of a fever."
"B...Buck, what's wrong with him?"
"He's got some swelling in his throat, Nathan. It's making it hard for him to swallow anything."
"What hap...pened to him?"
"From the looks of the bruises I think Wilson choked him."
"That's why he's hav...ing trouble. A...are you put...ting ice 'round his neck?"
"Vin started doing that as soon as he got the bullet out, but it don't seem to be helping."
"H...help me o...over to him, B...Buck," Jackson tried to sit up, but found two hands firmly pushing him back down.
"No! Now look, Nathan, you're hurt and if you go getting up you'll just start bleeding again. We've got Chris covered. Josiah's looking after him right now." Buck tried to lighten the healer's mood and forced a tiny smile to his face. "Besides I've got something for you to drink. Now open up."
"What is it?"
"You're about to find out why we call this stuff horse piss or skunk juice."
"Dammit, Buck."
"Open up, Nathan," Wilmington helped the healer drink the willow bark tea and watched as tired brown eyes closed in sleep. Buck moved away from bed and stood over Josiah Sanchez. "How's he doing, Josiah?"
"I got him to drink a little water, but it's just not enough, Buck. We need to get the swelling in his throat down in order to get him drinking properly. All we can do right now is keep bathing him and pray."
The two men looked at the pale man on the bed. Tiny beads of perspiration formed on the fevered brow, rolling slowly down his face to drop onto the sweat soaked pillow. Fever spots stood out on the cheeks, evidence that the fever was gaining an even stronger hold on the gunslinger.
Buck Wilmington watched as a tiny droplet fell from a strand of blond hair and felt as if he was watching his friend's life pour out of his body with each new bead that formed.
 |
 |
 |
 |