“C...Chris, s...sick,” Tanner gasped as he felt hot bile rise up in his throat. He gagged and sputtered as the heated liquid choked him. He tried to call out but nothing got past the burning sensation in his throat. “H...lp.”
Larabee stumbled as he heard the soft plea from behind him. “Oh, Jesus,” he cried as he saw the tracker fighting to breathe. He dropped the reins and hurried to his friend. He grasped Tanner’s shoulders and leaned him over the side, reaching in to make sure his airway was free and clear. “Come on, Vin, breathe!” he shouted as he waited for the younger man to draw a breath. “Please, God, don’t let him die,” he prayed as he waited anxiously for the younger man to draw air into his lungs.
Tanner felt the hands reach out to him and the anguished voice pleading for him to breathe. With a shuddering effort he took in a minuscule amount of air and then a little more. Finally with more strength than he knew he possessed he drank in huge gulps of what his starving body needed.
“Easy, Vin,” Larabee said as he placed the sharpshooter back on the blankets.
“T...thought I’d m...met my m...maker,” the tracker hissed as he grabbed at his side.
“No way, Tanner, not for a long time yet,” Larabee promised as he held the canteen in front of Tanner’s mouth. He helped him drink a few sips and then watched as the younger man slipped away once more. “I’ll get you home, Vin. There’s no way I’m letting you go without a fight,” he swore as he once more led the horses towards town, ignoring the burning pain in his own shoulder as he stumbled along between Pony and Peso. The sun beat down on him and he knew if he felt this hot it must feel like an inferno to his injured friend.
As the afternoon shadows lengthened into evening Larabee felt his strength waning. Forcing one foot in front of the other he ignored the pain spreading through his own body. A moan from behind him once more called a halt to their progress and he hurried back to the injured man.
The pale face was covered in perspiration and the blue eyes open and staring. The cracked lips opened but no sound came forth as Larabee knelt beside the travois. “Vin, I g...got some water. Think you can drink some for me.”
“C...Chris, w...where are w...we?”
“We’re on our way home, Vin. Should be there by morning if we keep moving. Now see if you can drink some water for me, Pard,” he ordered as he held the canteen to the injured man’s mouth. He shook his head as the tracker took only a small sip before groaning and turning his head away. “Come on, Vin, just a little more,” he pleaded.
“C...can’t, C....Chris...f...feel sick.”
“I know you do, Pard,” Larabee’s head dropped to his chest as he tried to get the image of the shooting out of his mind. He tore a piece of cloth from the blanket under Tanner and wet it from the canteen. He used it to wash the younger man’s pain creased face, wondering how he’d ever live with shooting his best friend. His subconscious kept telling him it was an accident and he wasn’t really to blame but Chris Larabee always shouldered the blame. He’d seen many things in his life and he’d been hurt many times but nothing compared to the pain of seeing the younger man lying so pale and lifeless because of something he did.
“C...Chris?”
“I’m here, Vin,” Larabee assured his friend.
“A...always are. H...hurts, Chris, t...think my s...sides bleeding ‘gain,” the weak voice hissed.
Larabee shook the cobwebs out of his brain and gently peeled back the blanket covering the injured man. His eyes raked over the bare chest and caught on the wound on the lower right side. Blood must’ve continued to seep from the injury as they’d made their way through Baker Pass. “Fuck!” Larabee muttered, angered with himself for not checking the wound before.
“S’ ‘kay, C...Chris ,” Tanner’s weak voice tried to penetrate the angry glare plastered on the blond’s face. “ ‘m S...sorry, d...don’t mean to be s...so m...much t...trouble.”
The words penetrated Larabee’s anger at himself and he realized the younger man thought he was angry at him. “Vin, I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself,” the gunslinger muttered as he gently pried the bandage from the wound.
“Weren’t yer f...fault...got s...shot,” Tanner gasped as the last of the bandage pulled clear of the tortured flesh.
“You’re wrong, Tanner, my fault pure and simple,” Larabee mumbled not realizing he was speaking aloud and that his words were penetrating the pain that filled the tracker’s mind.
“Y...you s...shot me. W...why?” the younger man hissed as he tried to remember what happened.
“We’ll deal with that later, Pard, right now I got to get the bleeding stopped.”
Pain made the tracker unable to think. The only thing he was sure of was that his best friend had just admitted to being responsible for the misery and torment he was now going through. “D...don’t fuckin’ touch me! T...thought ya were my f...friend. J...just after the reward l...like a...all the r...rest,” he hissed.
Each word cut into the gunslinger’s battered soul, tearing a strip off the already fragile heart. He fought back the tears threatening to drop from his glazed green eyes as he replaced the bandages on his friend’s body. “I don’t want the reward, Vin, told you that before.”
“G...get yer fuckin’ hands off me ya n...no g...good g...gunslinger,” Tanner’s fevered mind screamed as he tried to come off the travois.
“V...Vin, lie still or that’s just gonna start bleeding again,” Larabee tried to hide the hurt the younger man’s words caused. He knew in his heart it was the fever and pain talking but the words hurt more than any physical pain the tracker could have caused.
“L...leave me, Lar’b,” the tracker hissed as he lost consciousness.
“Sorry, Vin, d...didn’t means to hurt you. We’ll soon be home and Nathan’ll look after you,” the blond muttered as he took a tiny sip from the canteen. His own stomach rebelling against the onslaught of water, yet screaming for more. Unconsciously his right hands reached up to rub the throbbing wound in his own shoulder. He winced as his hand came in contact with the infected graze but he wouldn’t let it stop him. ‘Have to get you to help, Tanner, then I can leave for good,’ he thought, his own fevered mind clouding his judgement.
Larabee walked as darkness took over the sky and fatigue dragged at his body. he’d stopped a few times and forced water down the younger man’s throat, each time ignoring his own bodies need. He stumbled and fell heavily to the ground but once more forced himself to stand and continue his drunken gait.
“Nathan, it’s getting too dark to see anything,” Wilmington observed.
“Brother Buck is right, Nathan. We’d pass them by without even realizing it in this darkness,” Sanchez said as he looked up at the starless sky. Dark clouds were forming with each step they took and he knew they’d soon be in the midst of a storm.
Jackson reined in his horse but didn’t leave the saddle. Something nagged at his mind and he couldn’t let it go. “Josiah, I can’t help feeling if we wait till morning we’ll be too late. There’s something wrong with one or both of them.”
“Alright, Brother, we’ll keep going.”
“Sh! Listen,” Wilmington whispered. All three were silent for a few minutes. “Someone’s coming,” the ladies man said softly.
Larabee stumbled again when he heard the cry issue from the man on the litter. “Vin, it’s alright. I got your back,” he hissed as he walked back to his friend. He uncapped the canteen and helped the feverish man drink from it. Water dripped down the taut chin as the tracker coughed and sputtered as the liquid caused his dry throat to gasp for more. “Easy, Vin,” Larabee soothed as he removed the canteen once more.
“F...feel like shit, C...Chris,” Tanner moaned as he tried to sit up.
“Just lie still,” Larabee’s ears perked up and he turned away from the younger man.
“H...hurt’s, Lar’b.”
“I know it does, Vin, just be quiet for a minute. I think someone’s coming.”
“W...who?” the blue eyes showed a certain degree of lucidity even in the nearly complete darkness.
“Not sure. They’ve stopped down the pass a ways,” Larabee explained. “Who’s there,” he called, his voice coming out in a raspy whisper as the dryness forced him to cough.
“Did you hear that?”
“I heard it, Buck. We’re from Four Corners,” Jackson shouted. “We’re lookin’ for some friends of ours. We were hoping you could help us.”
“Nathan, did you hear that, Vin? It’s Nathan. He’ll help you,” The gunslinger grinned at his injured friend. “N...Nathan!” he shouted again, this time it sounded a little louder and he was rewarded with an answering call.
“Chris, that you?”
“It’s me, Nathan. Vin’s hurt,” he snapped as he heard the horses coming towards them. “Vin, they’re here,” Larabee said as he sank to the ground beside his friend.
“Where’s he hurt, Chris?” Jackson asked as he stood over the two men.
“Broken arm, cut his head and I...I s...shot him,” the last few words were whispered in a shaky voice as the gunslinger stood up.
“Whataya mean you shot him?” Wilmington asked worriedly.
“I shot him, Buck.”
“You can tell us about that after we look after Vin. Buck, Josiah, I’m gonna need your help here. He’s burnin’ up. Has he been drinking anything, Chris?”
“Got him to take some tea earlier and some water but he’s been throwing it all back up. Fever set in real bad and the bullet’s still in him. Knew I h...had to g...get him back home so you could fix him up.”
“Buck, get a fire going and some water boiling. Josiah, help me get him unhooked from Peso. Chris, ya sound exhausted so sit down till I get a chance to look at ya.”
“I’m fine, Nate, just tired,” Larabee told the healer.
“Then sit down before you fall down,” Jackson ordered sharply.
Wilmington soon had a small fire going and water was poured in a couple of pots. He looked to where the healer and the ex-preacher were busy with the tracker. Shaking his head his gaze stopped on the slumped figure of the gunslinger. “Chris, you alright, Pard?”
“I’m fine, Buck.”
“You hurt?” Wilmington asked worriedly.
“Buck, get some of my herbs from my saddlebags and get them steeping. Chris, how long ago did this happen?”
“Sometime late yesterday,” Larabee answered as he watched the two men work on his friend.
“The wound’s infected, Josiah. I’m gonna have to clean it and get the damned bullet out.”
“N...Nathan?”
“Yeah, Vin, it’s me. How’re you doin’?”
“T...thirsty.”
“Give him a little water, Josiah,” Jackson ordered as he continued to check the wound.
Buck Wilmington hurried over with Jackson’s saddlebags pulling out the familiar bottle as he did so. He passed it to Jackson who twisted the cap off. “Vin, I’m gonna give you some Laudanum. It’ll help with the pain. Alright?”
“O...k,” the tracker hissed painfully. He gasped as the obnoxious liquid slid down the back of his throat.
“Vin, I’ve got to get the bullet out.”
“I...I k...know. W...where’s Chris?” the question barely escaped the cracked lips.
“Chris, can you come over here?” Jackson asked. He knew the gunslinger was hiding something but he wasn’t sure if it was physical or mental. He’d heard the stammered voice as it told them he’d been the one to shoot the tracker but right now he didn’t have the time to deal with it. The younger man’s life now depended on getting the bullet out and getting his fever down.
“I...I’m here,” Larabee crawled to his friends and reached for the younger man’s uninjured hand. “I’m here, Vin,” he whispered.
“C...Chris, h...hurts.”
“I know it does, Vin, but Nathan’s gonna make it all better,” the gunslinger assured the younger man.
“Alright, Buck, Josiah, hold him down. Chris, you just talk to him,” Jackson ordered as he took his sterilized probe. “You ready, Vin?”
“N...not r...really.”
“Just relax if ya can,” Jackson said as he began probing the gunshot wound.
“J...Jesus,” the sharpshooter swore as he struggled against the probe digging deep into his flesh.
“Hold on, Brother,” Sanchez soothed as he held the trembling shoulder to the ground.
“Almost there, Vin,” Jackson assured his patient as he probed deeper still.
Chris Larabee would suffer the fires of hell if it meant he could take back the last thirty-six hours. The weak moans and cries were like daggers to his soul, reaching out and tearing at the man he’d become since the seven had formed into a tight knit group of friends. That friendship would be tested to the limit once it became known he’d been the one to shoot the tracker. His bullet was the one that tore through the tender area of the lower abdomen. ‘Jesus, Vin, I’m sorry,’ he thought as the pain filled cry left the dry parched throat of his friend.
“Got it,” Jackson’s relieved shout cut through the remorse Larabee was feeling and he felt the moisture in his eyes.
“He’s unconscious, Brother.”
“Thank God,” he said and noticed the pale color of the gunslinger’s face. Mistaking it for exhaustion the healer spoke softly. “You look like hell, Chris. Josiah, Buck, and me can take it from here. Buck, spread out his blanket so he can get some rest.” Wilmington hurried to do as the healer asked.
“I’ll stay with him,” Larabee
mumbled.
“No, you won’t. You’re gonna drink some water and lie down. How long’s it been since you had any sleep?”
“Don’t know,” Larabee answered honestly.
“All set, Stud,” the ladies man smiled at the blond. “Need a hand?”
“I can do it myself, Buck,” Larabee snapped as he stood on shaky legs and headed for the bedroll. He took several small sips from the canteen the ladies man shoved in his hand and then laid down on the ground, his back turned away from the scene by the fire.
Wilmington sensed there was more to this than the gunslinger had told them. He knew his friend was hurting and he knew it was because he’d shot Vin Tanner. he turned to go back to his oldest friend in order to make him talk it out before things got any worse but Nathan’s urgent voice made him turn back to the tracker.
“Vin, you’re gonna be alright. I just have to make sure it’s cleaned out. Hold him tight you two,” Jackson ordered as he placed a whiskey soaked bandage over the wound.
The hoarse cry that erupted from the tracker’s throat made the gunslinger cringe. ‘You did this to him, Larabee. You shot your best friend.’ Unshed tears formed in the green eyes as he wondered if he’d ever be able to make up for the tragic mistake. His eyes closed and he let the nightmares take over. He floated away on a sea of darkness knowing he might never see the light of day again. ‘I’m sorry, Vin,’ he thought as the cries continued to emanate from his friend.
Dawn was breaking on a new day as three exhausted men continued to watch over the sharpshooter. Jackson warned both men that Vin Tanner might not make it through the day. That the wound in his side, coupled with the raging fever, and the head wound could easily gain the upper hand and take the sharpshooter away from them.
The silence of the night was interrupted by the painful sound issuing from the injured man’s mouth. Jackson was by his side in an instant, turning him on his side as his stomach once more lost its meagre contents.
“Easy, Vin.”
Tanner heard the familiar voice and forced his eyes to open. The two figures holding him finally joined to become one and he smiled weakly. “N...Nathan.”
The healer returned the smile as Sanchez and Wilmington knelt next to him. “How’re you feelin’, Vin?” Jackson asked.
“Feels like s...someone w...wailed into me. W...what happened?”
“That’s what we’d like to know,” Wilmington muttered.
“W...where’s C...Chris?” Tanner asked as he searched for his friend.
“He’s sleeping,” Sanchez answered as he turned his head towards the prone figure of the gunslinger.
“H...he Ok?” the tracker asked as he grabbed his side, crying out as the pain built to a steady crescendo of agony.
“Easy, Vin,” Jackson ordered. “Josiah, get me the laudanum.”
“H...hurts, N...Nate,” the fevered man cried as he struggled to breathe past the pain in his side. “S...sick,” he hissed as Jackson once more turned him. The healer slowly rubbed the younger man’s back as he continued to make retching noises.
“Here, Brother,” Sanchez passed the bottle to the healer and helped him hold the sharpshooter as he fed the liquid into him.
Jackson followed it with water, praying the injured man could hold it down long enough for the laudanum to take affect. He eased the young man back to the blankets and looked into the deep blue eyes so filled with pain and fever. “That should help, Vin,” he soothed. His eyes roaming over the fever ravaged face and the white bandage surrounded by the hideously colourful bruise. “Try to rest. We’re gonna see about getting you back to town.”
The head nodded slowly as the face once more showed the pain he was suffering. “C...Chris,” he called as his eyes slid shut and he slipped into a drug induced sleep.
“Nathan, is he going to be alright?”
“He will be if we can keep the wound from getting infected again and keep him from moving around too much,” Jackson answered as he turned his attention to the unmoving gunslinger across the fire. “Buck, have you checked on Chris?”
“I was just about to, Nathan. I didn’t want to wake him until I had to. He looked pretty exhausted last night.”
“I think it had more to do with him feeling responsible for what happened to brother Vin.”
“If Chris really shot him you might be right, Josiah,” Wilmington shook his head as he looked from the injured man to the gunslinger. He stood up and moved to check on his oldest friend, afraid of what the shooting would do to the man. He already blamed himself for the deaths of his wife and son and the ladies man wondered if he could handle another black mark on his soul. “Chris?” he called as he knelt behind the gunslinger.
Larabee knew if he answered the voice he’d have to face the men with the knowledge he’d shot his best friend. He kept his eyes closed hoping Buck Wilmington would think he was sleeping and leave him to face his demons alone. He didn’t deserve the friendship these men bestowed on him, he’d shattered everything when the sound of his gunshot had shattered the world he lived in. All he wanted was to be alone again. On his own away from the people he’d grown to care about. Away from the pain caused by hurting people he was close too. ‘Never again,’ he vowed as he felt the heat rising in his own body.
“Chris, come on, Pard, it’s time to wake up,” the ladies man repeated as he reached out and touched the left shoulder.
Larabee couldn’t hold back the cry that escaped his dry lips as he felt the light touch on his wounded shoulder. “L...leave me the hell alone!” he hissed.
“Chris, what’s wrong?” Wilmington hadn’t missed the sharp intake of breath as his hand came in contact with the blond’s arm.
“Nothing, Buck, j...just tired,” the gunslinger muttered as he fought the churning in his stomach.
“Chris I know better than that. What’s wrong with your shoulder?”
“Buck?”
“Nathan, I think you need to look at Chris,” the ladies man called.
“Buck, just get away from me and leave me the hell alone,” the blond hissed as he struggled to a sitting position, his vision blurring as he fought the waves of nausea, and finally made it to his feet.
“Sit down before you fall down,” Wilmington ordered.
“Chris, where are you hurt?” Jackson asked, ignoring the gunslinger’s orders to be left alone.
“Nathan, j...just look after V...Vin,” Larabee snarled as he moved away from the fire.
“Where are you going, Brother,” Sanchez asked as he moved in behind the swaying man, catching him as his legs gave out.
“L...let me go, J...Josiah.”
“I don’t think so, Brother. Where do you want him, Nate?”
“Put him back on his bedroll. Chris where are you hurt?” the healer repeated.
“I’m not hurt, just tired,” the blond protested as he was lowered back to the blankets.
Jackson felt the blond’s forehead and turned immediately to his two companions. “Buck, get my bag and some of that hot water. Josiah help me get his coat off. Godammit, Chris, why didn’t you say something?” he snapped as he felt what could only be dried blood on the left shoulder of the gunslinger’s duster.
“It’s n...nothing, Nate. Just leave it be.”
“Nothing? It’s always nothing with you guys. You’re burning up, maybe not as hot as Vin but you’re sporting one helluva fever and that means there’s an infection somewhere. Josiah, lift him up.”
Chris gasped as the ex-preacher leaned him forward and the healer pried the black duster and the equally black shirt from his body.
“When are you fools gonna listen to me,” Jackson snapped as he used Larabee’s shirt to stop the blood coming from the wound once more.
“J...just a graze,” Larabee hissed sharply.
“Sure it is and so is the one in Vin’s side.”
Jackson missed the look that washed over the gunslinger’s face at the mention of the tracker, but it didn’t go totally undetected. Josiah Sanchez knew this went deeper than it looked. They all knew Larabee claimed to be the one who’d shot Vin but the how and why of it was still unknown.
“I...is Vin gonna be a...alright?” the blond asked.
“Here’ ya go, Nathan,” Wilmington placed the water and the bag beside the healer and shook his head at the swollen, inflamed bullet wound.
“Chris, I gotta clean this out,” Jackson explained. “Here drink this and I’ll get it over with.”
“Save it,” Larabee muttered as the tiny medicine spoon was held out to him.
“Now, Brother, you’re gonna need a little help with Brother Nathan working on your shoulder.”
“Don’t want it,” Larabee said. “Just do it, Nate, so I can get out of here.”
“And just where do you plan on going, Stud?” Wilmington asked as the gunslinger closed his eyes and ignored the Laudanum.
“None of your business, Buck, just get me on my feet.”
Jackson poured the liquid back in the bottle and began cleaning the wound.
Larabee felt the whiskey-covered cloth as it covered the wound and he tried to move away. His efforts to escape doubled when Jackson began probing the deep wound.
“Steady, Brother, Nathan’ll be done in a minute or two,” Sanchez said as he held the blond down.
“C...Chris!”
The pain filled scream reached the ears of the three men and all eyes turned to see the tracker standing on rubbery legs.
“I got him, Nate,” Wilmington said as he hurried towards the younger man. “Why don’t you lie down, Vin?” he asked as he stepped in front of the wavering figure.
“W...where’s Chris ya sons of a bitches! W...what have y...ya d...done ta him,” Tanner cried as he reached for the three figures before him.
“Vin, what’s the matter with you?” Wilmington asked worriedly. The fever bright eyes shifted left and right as the younger man tried to attack him.
“Ya k...killed him d...didn’t ya. Ya bastards killed him and I’m g...gonna kill ya’all!”
The raspy voice sounded weak to Wilmington but it carried more strength than he thought possible. He reached out and grasped the swinging arms and pulled the trembling body close just as the sharpshooter’s eyes rolled back in his head.
“Nathan, I need you!”
“Go!” Larabee hissed. He’d fought the ex-preacher and the healer in an effort to get to the younger man. His guilt taking a back seat to his worry over his friend’s health.
“Josiah, make him stay where he is,” Jackson ordered as he stood up and hurried to help the ladies man. “What happened?” Jackson asked as he helped lower the injured man to the bedroll.
“He didn’t know me. Kept calling for Chris...”
“I heard that part, Buck, I mean what happened after that?”
“H...his eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out. He is alright isn’t he, Nate?” Wilmington asked as he watched the healer examine the unconscious man.
“He’s still with us,” Jackson answered as he checked the bullet wound. “Buck, I left my bag over by Chris...”
“I got it.”
“Josiah, take some of the bandages and cover Chris’s shoulder with it.”
“I will, Brother,” Sanchez called as he smiled at the gunslinger.
“Here, Nate,” the ladies man said as he returned with the bag.
“Thanks, Buck, I need ya to put these herbs in the cups and pour hot water over em. Give one to Josiah so’s he can give it to Chris. The other one you can bring to me.”
Wilmington took the herbs and poured them into the cups, smiling as he handed one to Sanchez. “I’m glad it’s you and not me, Stud,” he didn’t miss the green eyed glare turned his way as the blond head was lifted from the bedroll.
“Buck, I need your help here,” Jackson called as he removed the blood-covered bandage from Tanner’s abdomen. “Hold this,” he ordered as he opened his bag and took out the needle and thread.
“Thought you already put the stitches in, Nate?”
“I did but he’s pulled some of em out. Now just hold him still,” Jackson ordered.
“S...stop,” Vin cried as he felt the sharp bite of the needle enter his flesh. “P...lease stop. C...Chris, h...help me. M...make em s...stop.”
“Josiah, let me go!”
“Now, Brother, Nathan and Buck are handling him.”
“You don’t understand. He’s c...calling me.”
“Dammit, Buck, hold him down,” Jackson swore as Tanner’s body arched up off the bedroll.
“He’s stronger than he looks, Nate.”
“Josiah, we need you!”
“Coming. Chris, you stay put!” Sanchez ordered as he climbed to his feet and hurried to the struggling figures.
“Vin, lie still,” Jackson hissed as the ex-preacher joined the ladies man in an effort to hold the tracker down.
“C...Chris, H...help...C...Chris. P...please s...stop.”
“I’m here, Vin.”
“Thought I told you to stay put,” Sanchez snapped as he continued to hold the younger man tightly.
Chris Larabee ignored those around him. His eyes going to the pain filled face of his friend. He slid sideways until he was able to lift his friend’s head onto his lap and gently pushed back the sweat soaked long hair. “I’m here, Pard,” he soothed as he took the wet cloth that was handed to him. He washed the glistening beads of moisture from the fevered brow and fought to keep his own raging emotions under control.
“C...Chris, Oh, God, C...Chris it hurts.”
“I know it does, V...Vin. Nathan’s gonna fix you up.”
“Oh, Jesus, C...Chris, make em stop. They’re k...killing me,” Tanner hissed as a thousand burning insects took up residence in his side. He fought against the hands holding him down but to no avail as he felt the billowing blanket of darkness descending once more. “W...why, C...Chris...promised to w...watch my b...back.”
“My fault, Vin,” Larabee clenched his eyes as the whispered words bit deep into his heart. “M...my fault.”
“Come on, Brother,” Sanchez said as Jackson finished replacing the last of the stitches. “Let’s get you back to your own bed.”
“No! I’m fine where I am,” Larabee hissed as he held the injured man’s head in his lap.
“Chris, I want you lying down now!” the healer said, turning to the pale gunslinger in his anger. “I don’t have time to argue with you on this. Vin’s in bad shape and I damn well don’t need you gettin’ any worse than ya already are. Now go drink the tea and get some rest. I’m through arguin’ with ya. Josiah, get him outta here,” Jackson told the ex-preacher as he lifted Tanner’s head from Larabee’s lap.
“Let’s go, Chris,” Sanchez helped the younger man to his feet and walked beside him when his offer of help was declined. “You’d better drink this.”
Larabee sank heavily to the ground, his eyes constantly on the trio across the fire. He felt the cup placed in his hand and sipped the warm, bitter brew.
“What happened, Chris?”
Larabee swallowed deeply as he forced his eyes away from the scene being played out before him. His shoulder throbbed in rhythm with his head as he looked into the caring eyes of the older man. “I...I shot him, Josiah.”
“Are you ready to tell me how?”
“Not much to tell. I pointed my gun and I shot my best friend.”
“There’s more to it than that, Chris.”
Larabee groaned as he placed the cup on the ground beside him. He lifted his right hand and held his left arm close to his body. “There’s more, Josiah, but it doesn’t matter. I s...shot Vin Tanner, and I may have k...killed him.”
“Don’t talk like that, Chris,” Sanchez snapped at the vacant stare he received. “Vin’s a strong man but he’s still gonna need you to help him through this.”
“No he don’t, Preacher! He don’t need me anywhere near him! I’ll just end up killing him like I do everything good in my life,” Larabee snarled as he let anger overtake him. He stood up and headed away from the encampment as his stomach churned violently.
“Chris, get back here,” Jackson yelled at the retreating form.
“Nate, I think you’d best just leave him alone for a few minutes. I’ve seen Chris deal with this type of demons before and he’s gotta work it out for himself,” Wilmington declared.
Jackson nodded his head and turned his attention back to the fevered young man before him. “We need to get them both out of this heat.”
“Miss Nettie’s place is only half a day’s ride from here.”
“Josiah, could you hook up the travois so we can get moving?”
“Sure thing, Brother,” Sanchez agreed as he moved towards the horses.
Larabee stood away from the others as his stomach lost its contents. He felt weak and yet he knew it wasn’t from the physical injury but from the repeated visions of his bullet striking his best friend. He closed his eyes and waited for the bout of dizziness to end.
The gunslinger watched as his friends made ready to leave. It didn’t take long until everything was packed up and the horses saddled. He tried to ignore the cries emanating from the sharpshooter as he was once more placed on the travois and made ready for the long ride ahead. He sank to the ground and let his head fall forward on his chest as he felt exhaustion reaching out to him.
He lifted his head slowly as he heard footsteps coming his way. Wilmington stood over him and the blond knew his old friend understood his need to be alone.
“Chris, we gotta get Vin outta this heat. Nathan’s real worried about his fever. You ready to go?”
“I guess so,” Larabee said as he climbed to unsteady legs.
“Whoa, Stud,” the ladies man said as he placed a steadying hand on his friend. “Maybe we need to make a second Travois,” he said, only half joking.
“I’m fine, Buck. Just tired. I can rest when we get home.”
“That won’t be for awhile, Pard. Nathan wants to go to Miss Nettie’s place since it’s closer than town.”
“She’s good for Vin,” Larabee told him.
‘So are you, Chris,’ Wilmington thought as the blond walked towards his horse.
It’s time for a break,” Jackson said as he looked from the man on the travois to the pale figure sitting on Pony.
Larabee felt the healer looking at him and spoke softly. “I’m fine, Nathan.”
“Yeah, I know,” Jackson said sarcastically as the others pulled to a stop. “I’m going to check on Vin. Then I’m gonna take a look at your shoulder.”
“Shoulder’s fine, Nathan. You just worry about Vin,” Larabee hissed, staying his saddle and reaching for his canteen. He watched as Wilmington stopped his horse and dismounted, still holding tight to Peso’s reins.
“Stubborn mule headed cuss,” Jackson muttered as the ex-preacher joined him.
“Leave him, Nathan. Brother Chris is dealing with a dangerous demon called guilt right now,” Sanchez said as he helped the healer pull the blankets off the semi conscious man.
“Vin, can you hear me?”
A low moan, barely audible, reached the healer’s ears. “Hand me the canteen, Josiah,” he ordered. “Vin, I want you to drink some of this, Ok?”
“Hmm,” the sharpshooter moaned as he felt his head lifted. He swallowed the tepid liquid as his pain filled blue eyes opened halfway. He turned his head from the offering as he felt his rebellious stomach scream in protest.
“Come on, Vin, just a little more,” Jackson pleaded.
“C...can’t...s...sick....w...where’s C...Chris? He...ok?”
“He’s fine, Vin,” Jackson assured the younger man.
“C...can’t s...see him. W...watch my b...back,” the tracker hissed.
Sanchez looked up to see their leader had wondered away from the close-knit group. ‘You’re gonna have to face that demon real fast Chris. Vin needs you right now,’ he thought as he walked towards the blond gunslinger. “Chris,” he said angrily.
Larabee looked down at the intimidating man but wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. “What?”
“I know you got some demons you need to face down before you can forgive yourself but right now Vin Tanner needs you. Now get down off that horse and show him you’re alright.”
“Leave me alone, Josiah,” Larabee hissed.
“Not until you get over there and give that man your word that you’re still watching his back. I don’t give a damn what you do after that but right now he needs you and you damned well better get off that horse or I’ll drag you down.”
“Don’t try it,” Larabee snarled as he finally met the ex-preacher’s eyes.
“Why, Chris, you gonna shoot him?” Wilmington asked before he could stop the damning words.
Larabee swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked from one man to the other. The pain in his green eyes had little to do with his shoulder.
“Ah, hell, Chris, I didn’t mean that,” Wilmington apologized but knew the words had damaged the already tortured soul.
Larabee climbed down from Pony and walked unsteadily towards the travois. He knelt beside his friend and began speaking softly to the injured sharpshooter.
The words reached the ears of the ladies man and the ex-preacher. “Damn, Josiah, what have I done?” Wilmington asked as he stared at the gunslinger.
“It’s not your fault, Brother, so give it up right now. Chris is carrying enough guilt for all of us right now.”
“We’d better pray Vin makes it or we’ll lose them both. I don’t think Chris can handle another devastating loss. He considers Vin more than a friend and I don’t think he’s got the strength to survive the loss of another family. Especially if he considers himself responsible.”
“Vin’s gonna pull through, Brother,” Sanchez said as they joined the three men.
“How’s he doing, Nathan?”
Jackson shook his head at the ladies man. “This fever is sapping his strength. He’s not taking in nearly enough water and if it keeps up we’re looking at dehydration and in Vin’s condition that could kill him,” Jackson said.
Each word the healer spoke was like a knife to Larabee’s heart as he washed the trackers pale face. He fought to control his anger as he looked at his friends fever bright eyes. ‘Jesus, Vin, I’m sorry,’ he thought.
“Chris, see if you can get him to take some more water,” Jackson ordered.
Larabee swallowed and tapped the sharpshooter’s left shoulder until the blue eyes focused on him.
“C...Chris...ok?” the dry raspy voice gave credence to the lines of pain on the younger man’s face.
“I’m fine, Vin. I need you to drink a little more water for me. Think you can do that, P...Pard?” the gunslinger stammered.
“T...try.”
Larabee smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes as he lifted the sweat soaked head and helped the younger man drink.
Tanner managed a couple of small sips before his eyes slid closed once more.
“Vin?” the blonds worried voice cried.
“It’s alright, Chris,” Jackson soothed. “He just passed out.”
Larabee turned pained green eyes on the healer. “Is he gonna make it?” he asked when he finally found his voice.
“I’ve never lied to ya Chris and I don’t intend to start now. He’s weak and he’s running one helluva fever. The faster we get him outta this sun the better,” Jackson declared.
“Then let’s get moving,” Larabee snarled as he stood up and headed for Pony.
“Chris, let me take a quick look at your shoulder.”
“Shoulder’ll be fine till we get to Nettie’s place,” Larabee hissed as he mounted up. “Let’s ride,” he ordered.
Jackson shook his head as he watched the gunslinger head out. He hurriedly mounted his own horse. Wilmington once again took Peso’s reins and led the horse slowly along the trail. Sanchez nodded to the healer and hurried to catch up to the gunslinger.
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