“Company’s coming, Aunt Nettie,” Casey called from the porch where she could see a cloud of dust coming towards the house.
“Who is it?” Nettie Wells called as she made her way to the door.
“I’m not sure but it looks like four or five riders.”
Nettie Wells walked back inside and reached for her old Spencer carbine. She checked to make sure it was loaded before heading back out to join her niece. ‘I just hope I don’t need to add another notch,’ she thought as she watched the riders coming in. Sudden recognition dawned on her and she emptied the shotgun and placed it beside the door.
“Isn’t that...”
“It looks like Mr. Tanner and Mr. Larabee and a couple of others,” Nettie smiled at her niece, the smile fading as she noticed one of the horses was rider less. “Something’s wrong,” she said as they came closer and she noticed the young man she’d grown to care about was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes flicked to the travois trailing behind Peso and she felt her heart lurch upwards in her throat. “Casey, put some water on to boil and turn down the blankets on my bed,” she ordered as she hurried down the steps.
“Yes, ma’am,” Casey said as she hurried to do as she was told.
Nettie waited for the entourage to come to a stop in front of her. Her worried eyes took in the pale face of the blond gunslinger before turning her attention to the form on the travois. “What happened?” she asked as she moved to the tracker’s side.
“He was shot,” Jackson answered quickly.
“Bring him inside,” Nettie ordered. “Mr. Larabee, are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” the blond hissed as he dismounted.
“Sure you are. Best come inside and rest yerself outta the sun,” Nettie ordered. “Nathan, you can put Mr. Tanner in my bed.”
“You sure bout that, ma’am?” Jackson asked as Sanchez unhooked the travois.
“Course I am. These old bones of mine are used to sleepin’ on hard surfaces, Mr. Jackson. Mr. Tanner needs a bed more than I do. Now get him in there,” she ordered, wondering why Larabee looked as if he’d lost his best friend.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Jackson smiled at the formidable woman as he and Sanchez lifted the tracker and headed for the house.
“I’ll take care of the horses,” Wilmington said as he took the reins from the quiet blond’s hands.
“I’ll help you,” Casey said as she followed Wilmington towards the corral.
“Mr. Larabee, are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Wells,” Larabee told her as he walked towards the porch and sat heavily on the steps.
“You look like you’re ready to drop. Why don’t you come in outta the sun and I’ll get you something to eat.”
“Not hungry, Ma’am.”
“Now see here, Mr. Larabee, from the looks of that young man they just brought in Mr. Jackson has his hands full. He don’t need to be lookin’ after you too. He looks plum worn out as it is.”
Larabee breathed a heavy sigh and pushed back to his feet, wincing as he placed weight on his injured arm.
“Are you hurt too?”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Wells. Nathan already took care of it,” Larabee told her.
“Chris, can you come in here?”
Larabee hurried into the house at the shouted call from Nathan Jackson. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he made his way to the bed, every nerve on end as he thought the younger man had breathed his last.
“I need to change his bandages and he’s awake. I need you to talk to him, let him know everything’s alright.”
Larabee nodded his head and forced the words past his dry throat. “Bout time you woke up, Pard, I was beginning to think you planned on sleeping clear through to next summer.”
“H...hurts, C...Chris.”
“Where does it hurt, Vin?” the blond asked.
Tanner swallowed and moaned softly. “H...head, arm, but my s...sides the w...worst.”
Larabee swallowed the guilt as he soothed his injured friend. “I know it does, Vin.”
“Here, Chris, see if he’ll take some of this for you,” Jackson ordered as he passed the blond the tiny bottle of Laudanum.
“Got something that’ll help with the pain, Vin,” Larabee smiled as he helped the younger man to the does of Laudanum.
“T...thanks, C...Chris,” Tanner mumbled.
‘Don’t thank me for shooting you, Pard,’ Larabee thought as he felt the tracker’s body tremble beneath his hands. “Easy, Vin, Nathan’s almost finished.”
“F...finished.”
“Almost,” Larabee assured the younger man as Nettie Wells handed him a glass of water. “Vin, think you can manage a little water?” The blue eyes opened and stared uncomprehendingly at him. “Water?”
“T...thirsty,” Tanner whispered, opening his mouth and accepting the offering. He drank a quarter of a glass of the cool liquid before turning away once more. “T...thanks, Chris,” he mumbled as he let the blanket fall once more.
Larabee turned away from the pale form and forced his body to stand. He moved away from the bed and headed towards the front door as tremors struck his body. He knew he was going to be sick and cursed his own weakness. ‘I have to get out of here,’ he thought as he opened the front door and hurried outside.
Nettie Wells followed the blond man outside. Years of living with a man who held his emotions in check made it easy for her to read this dark clad gunslinger. She could see the guilt written in every move he made. “Going somewhere, Mr. Larabee?” she asked.
Larabee stopped in his tracks at the sound of the older woman’s question. Although the voice was soft it was filled with a strength that belied her small stature. “Needed some air,” he told her.
“I’m sure you did. He’s strong, Mr. Larabee.”
“I know.”
“Are you gonna tell me what happened?”
“Not right now,” Larabee hissed as he stepped off the porch.
“Chris, I want to look at your shoulder,” Jackson said as he joined Nettie Wells on the porch.
‘He’s hurting,’ she mouthed to the healer.
Jackson nodded as he waited for the gunslinger to either move away or come back into the house. “Come on, Chris,” he said.
Larabee let his shoulders sink as he turned back to the house. The pain written on his face was clear to the two people on the porch. He slowly walked past them and into the house, sinking heavily into a chair by the table.
“Chris, I’m gonna need you to take off your shirt and duster,” Jackson ordered.
Larabee lifted his arms and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, fighting back the waves of fatigue that washed over him. By the time Nettie Wells brought a pan of warm water to the table Larabee’s shirt and duster were off and Jackson was peeling back the bandages on his shoulder.
“Chris, I’m gonna have to put some stitches in this,” Jackson stated as he bathed the deep furrow. Larabee simply nodded and waited for the inevitable to happen. “Mrs. Wells.”
“Yes, Mr. Jackson.”
“Do you have any whiskey?”
“I keep some around for medicinal purposes,” the silver haired woman grinned as she retrieved the bottle and brought it to the table. She turned her back as she poured a shot into a glass before passing the glass to the injured man who downed it and thanked her quietly.
“Chris, this is gonna sting a bit.”
“Just do it, Nathan,” Larabee growled, wincing as he felt a whiskey soaked cloth placed over the wound. He gritted his teeth as the healer stitched the wound and placed a clean bandage over it.
“Now, Chris, I want you to eat something and then I want you to lie down.”
“I’m fine, Nathan.”
“No you’re not! Look you’ve got your own fever to contend with. It may not be as high as Vin’s but it’s not something you can shrug off. Now I’m through arguing with you. Eat, drink, and sleep in that order,” Jackson stated as he helped the blond back into his shirt.
“Here you are Mr. Larabee,” Nettie Wells smiled as she placed a bowl of stew and a glass of cold water in front of the gunslinger.
Larabee managed to get some of the stew down and drank the cold water.
“Mr. Larabee, Casey’s bed is ready for you,” the older woman said as Buck and Casey entered the house.
“I don’t want to put her out,” Larabee said as he stood up. “I can sleep in the barn.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” Wilmington gasped as he caught the gunslinger before he slumped to the floor.
“Thanks, Mrs. Wells,” Jackson grinned.
“My pleasure, Mr. Jackson.”
“What did you to do?”
“Mr. Larabee is exhausted but wouldn’t give in. Mr. Jackson and I just helped him along with a little laudanum,” she said as Buck carried the unconscious man into Casey’s room.
“He’s gonna be mad,” Wilmington grinned at the healer and the older woman.
“Not if he doesn’t know,” Jackson assured him. “We’ll just let him think he passed out with exhaustion.”
Wilmington sat beside the bed and stared at the pale face. “How are we gonna get him past this, Nate?”
“We’ll know more when we get the whole story,” Jackson told him.
“How did Mr. Tanner get shot and what happened to his arm and head?”
“From what little Chris has told us so far he shot Vin. How or why we don’t know yet.”
“It must’ve been accidental,” Nettie Wells said.
“Of course it was,” Wilmington told her. “Chris would never shoot Vin on purpose. How is Vin, Nate?”
“I’ve cleaned the infection out of his side but it’s gonna be touch and go for some time. We need to get his fever down before he can really start to heal. I’m going to go relieve Josiah and I want you two to get some rest. We’ll need to work in shifts to get these two healthy, Jackson warned as he left the room.
Nettie Wells looked at the sleeping gunslinger before following the healer out of the room.
Jackson rubbed tired eyes as he continued to try and cool the form on the bed. He’d been at it constantly, only taking breaks to eat or get some fresh air and check on his other patient. Sanchez, Wilmington, Nettie, and Casey each took shifts during the long night.
Larabee’s fever had abated early in the morning but he remained asleep and Nathan was grateful for that. He wanted to know the story behind the shooting and Vin’s other injuries but for now he had to be content with the knowledge in his own heart. He knew there had to be more to the story than just Chris shooting Vin.
A slight movement from the tracker brought his attention back to his patient.
Vin wasn’t sure where he was but he knew he wasn’t on the ground anymore and that the savage nest of insects in his side must’ve found another home. He struggled to open his eyes and felt his head lifted and something pressed against his lips. He sipped the liquid, grateful for the moisture in his arid mouth. His head soon rested back against the pillow and a soft sigh issued from his pressed lips. A familiar voice spoke to him and once more he fought to open his eyes.
Jackson watched as the blue eyes opened and turned to him before letting a smile form on his face. “Good morning,” he said as he washed the handsome features.
Tanner swallowed and tried to answer, the only sound escaping his lips was more of a strangled groan but Jackson was grateful to hear even that. The usually boisterous tracker had been deathly quiet through the night and Jackson had worried that he wouldn’t have the strength to pull through.
“T...thirsty,” the tracker mumble through thick lips.
Jackson lifted his head and placed the glass to the cracked lips, once more allowing the younger man a small amount of the liquid. “That’s enough for now,” he said as he gently placed the tracker back on the pillow.
Tanner nodded and tried to find his voice once more. “W...what h....happened?” he whispered hoarsely.
“You were shot.”
“S...shot?”
“Yeah. You took one in the side.”
“H...happened a...arm...head?”
“I’m not sure about those yet.”
“N...not s...sure...w...where’s C...Chris?” the blue eyes suddenly filled with terror as he realized his friend wasn’t with him. He knew in his heart something must’ve happened to the blond gunslinger or he would’ve been there to help him.
“Chris is sleeping...”
“No, he’s not. I’m right here, Vin.”
Larabee’s voice sounded closer to normal to the healer and Jackson noted the blond’s coloring was better as well. “How’re you feeling, Chris?”
“I’m fine, Nathan,” the gunslinger said as he took the seat vacated by the healer. “How’s he doing?”
“The fever’s coming down but he’s not out of the woods just yet. Will you stay with him while I go get you both something to eat?” at Larabee’s slight nod the healer left the two friends alone.
“C...Chris...you ok?”
“I’m fine, Vin.”
“W...what h...happened...us?”
Larabee stood up and walked to the window, feeling the younger man’s eyes follow his every move. The guilt he felt at his friend suffering was still eating at him and he’d lain awake for the last few hours deciding what his next course of action was. He’d left his gun sitting in Casey’s room, not sure if he ever wanted to strap it on again.
“C...Chris?”
The gunslinger turned at the pain filled voice to see the tracker trying to get out of bed, hampered by the splinted right arm and his bodies weakness. “Jesus, Vin, what’re you trying to do?” Larabee hissed as he hurried to the tracker’s side. He gently eased him back down into the bed, picked up the wet cloth and washed the younger man’s face. “Don’t try that again,” he ordered.
A tiny smile adorned the tracker’s pale face as he looked into the eyes of his friend. “S...seems I h...heard that b...before.”
Larabee returned the smile, relieved that the younger man was able to crack a joke. He could tell the sharpshooter was in pain by the way he clenched his fist at his side. The gunslinger was relieved when Jackson came back into the room.
“Chris, Mrs. Wells has breakfast going for you.”
“Not hungry. You go ahead and eat. I’ll help Vin.”
“Chris.”
“Nathan, I’ll eat later.”
Jackson shook his head and glanced from one man to the other. ‘Lord, give me patience,’ he thought as he opened the bottle of Laudanum and fed a spoonful to the sharpshooter. “Alright, Chris, you help him drink this broth and then I’m gonna make sure you eat something. Let’s see if we can sit him up a bit more. I’ll lift, you put the pillows under his head.”
Larabee waited until the healer lifted the younger man forward and eased the pillows under him. By the time they finished the tracker’s face was filled with pain and any color he’d had dissipated quickly, leaving a pale sweating form.
Jackson stood back and watched as the gunslinger administered to the younger man. The gentleness of the man in black astonished the healer as he watched the two friends. ‘Maybe we’ll get the story today,’ he thought as he left them alone.
“Vin, open up,” Larabee said as he spooned the broth into his friends mouth. The tracker finished half the bowl before his eyes began drooping shut. “Come on, Vin, just a little more.”
“T...tired, C...Chris,” Tanner mumbled as he slipped into a deep sleep.
Larabee placed the bowl on the bedside table and stood up. He stretched his body and winced at the stiffness in his shoulder.
“I want to take a look at that arm, Chris.”
“Arm’s fine. You just concern yourself with Vin.”
“Chris, so help me if I got to I’ll have Buck and Josiah tie you to the bed.”
Larabee felt the old joke and trembled slightly. He wondered how many times he’d told them he’d shoot them. Always in jest and each man knew it but now the joke seemed lame as he realized he’d done just that when his bullet impacted with the sharpshooter’s body. “Alright, Nate,” he said tiredly as he walked out of the room.
Jackson stared after the retreating form, his own heart heavy in his chest. ‘Something tells me we’d best get to the bottom of this before this day ends,’ he thought as he followed the gunslinger into Casey’s room.
He waited for Larabee to slip out of his shirt and moved to examine the wound. He removed the bandage, noting that the angry redness from the night before was gone and the wound hadn’t bled much. “Alright, Chris, this looks much better,” he said as he replaced the bandage.
“Thanks,” Larabee said as he slipped his shirt back on.
Jackson watched as the lean form slowly walked out of the room. He turned to go back to his other patient when his eyes lit on the pearl handled Colt and holster sitting on the chair by the bed. ‘Dammit, Chris, we need to get to the bottom of this before you do something stupid,’ he thought as he picked up the gun. He knew Larabee never went anywhere without his guns. He had a reputation as a fast draw and that reputation made him vulnerable to a challenge no matter where he was. Jackson also knew not all gunslingers believed in giving their enemy the chance to strap on his guns.
The healer remembered a time not long ago when a young man visited Four Corners. The kid wore two guns, both tied down low. He hadn’t asked any questions but he watched the town, watched the people and seemed to be waiting for something. That night gunfire erupted in an alley way and Chris was gunned down, a bullet having entered his back, just to the right of his shoulder. He’d fought to save the blond’s life and they’d been lucky the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital. Chris’s gun was still in its holster and no one had heard a warning issued by the young man who’d shot him.
He raised his eyes as he heard footsteps and hoped it was the blond returning for his gun, instead his eyes met those of the ex-preacher.
“It seems to me it’s time for that talk with Brother Chris,” Sanchez said as he looked at the gun in the healer’s hands.
“Where is he?”
“He just went outside.”
“Where’s Buck?”
“Out there with him.”
“Alright, let’s get out there,” Jackson said. The two men strode determinedly out of the room.
“Something wrong, Mr. Jackson?”
“We’ll know in a few minutes, Mrs. Wells. Can you keep an eye on Vin for me. He’s sleeping right now but I don’t want him waking up and trying to get up.”
“Casey’s in there with him now. She’ll call if she needs me,” the older woman assured them. “You boys gonna have a talk with Mr. Larabee?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the healer answered.
“Good. Maybe you can find out why he’s shouldering so much guilt.”
“I hope so, ma’am,” Sanchez said as the two men walked out the front door.
“Morning, Nate, Josiah,” Wilmington greeted as the two men joined him on the porch.
“Morning, Buck. Where’s Chris?”
“He went to check the horses. I told him I’d do it but he said he wanted to do it himself. I’m kinda worried about him.”
“Seems to be good cause to worry, Brother,” Sanchez said as Jackson showed the ladies man the gun.
“Shit. I didn’t even notice he wasn’t wearing it. Damned fool. Give it to me and I’ll make sure he straps it on.”
“Strapping it on doesn’t mean he’s going to use it, Buck. We need to find out exactly what happened to them. How and why Chris shot Vin,” Jackson told them.
“I agree, Brother, and it looks like that time is at hand,” the ex-preacher said as they watched the blond walk slowly towards them.
Larabee saw the three men on the porch as soon as he came out of the barn. He knew what they wanted and he sighed heavily as he walked towards them. “Something troubling you boys?’ he asked.
“We need to talk,” Wilmington hissed.
“About?”
“About what happened to you and Vin,” Jackson answered.
“Nothing much to tell. I shot him.”
“Chris, there’s more to it than that.”
“Look, I don’t feel like talking about it right now,” Larabee’s smouldering green eyes were on the verge of erupting into a full force blaze as he looked at his three friends.
“Well, Brother, we’d like to know how you ended up shooting Vin.”
Larabee turned away before the others could see how hard this was for him. He’d tried to keep the anger as a reminder of what he’d done but it slowly left him as he saw the concern in the other men’s faces. “Look, Vin and I ran into some trouble in the form of two bushwhackers. Vin went to circle behind them and I shot him. H...he fell over the edge of the c...cliff,” Larabee felt his body shudder as he pictured the broken, bloodied body at the bottom of the gorge. He relived the tortured cries as he set the tracker’s arm and cleaned the bullet wound as best he could.
“Chris,” Wilmington placed a hand on the tense shoulder in a show of friendship.
Larabee shook off the shoulder and turned back to his friends. “Buck, I s...shot h...him,” he stammered as he fought back the emotions racing through him.
“Chris, you still haven’t told us how?”
“It don’t matter how, Nathan.”
“Yes it does, Brother. You need to get this out and deal with it before you do...”
“Before I do what, Josiah? Before I do something stupid,” Larabee hissed letting his anger at himself take control again. “I could’ve killed him. Hell he still could die.”
“Chris, he’s going to be fine,” Jackson assured him.
“Is he? You said yourself he’s weak.”
“Yes he’s weak, Chris, but the fever has gone down and the infection is clearing up. Now why don’t you tell us the rest of the story?” the healer asked.
“I...I...”
The door behind them opened and Casey Wells excited voice interrupted their conversation. “Mr. Jackson, Aunt Nettie says for you to come right away.”
Larabee watched the three men hurry back into the house and he knew in his heart something had happened to his friend. He slowly walked into the house and hurried to the room housing his friend. He watched as Nathan and Josiah tried to calm the younger man. He could hear the muted cries from the tracker and they cut deep into his heart.
Wilmington’s eyes moved from the pale form on the bed to the pale blond watching the proceedings. He wanted to go to his old friend but knew Larabee didn’t want that right now.
Chris stepped closer to the bed and gently nudged the larger man out of the way. His eyes locked with those of the healer as he gently placed his hands on Tanner’s chest. “You need to calm down, Pard,” Larabee whispered softly.
Vin was locked in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. He’d been making his way around behind one of the bushwhackers when he felt a bullet enter his side. As he fell he realized the shot could only have come from one source. “Why?” he screamed as his body tumbled over the edge of the gorge. “Why’d ya shoot me, C...Chris?”
Larabee released his hold and stood away from the bed. His eyes filled with fear as he continued to watch the writhing form on the bed. “D...didn’t mean to, V...Vin,” he whispered as Sanchez moved in to help the healer. He could feel Nettie and Casey Wells staring at him and he mistook their concerned stares for anger. He turned from the room and hurried out of the house.
Wilmington turned to go after his friend when Jackson’s voice halted him. “Buck, get over here and help hold him. We need to get him calmed down.”
“You go ahead, Mr. Wilmington. I’ll go talk with Mr. Larabee.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Wells,” the ladies man said as he hurried to help the two men battling the wiry tracker.
Larabee hurried out of the house and barely made it around the corner before becoming violently ill. He waited for the heaving to stop before leaning against the wall, chest heaving, eyes watering as his friends words replayed over and over in his mind. ‘Why’d ya shoot me, Chris?’
‘Accident, Vin, a stupid accident,’ he thought as he closed his eyes against the spinning world.
“Mr. Larabee.”
His head snapped up as he heard the woman’s voice call to him. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone, especially this woman who thought so much of Vin Tanner. He tried to move away from the house but found his body sliding down the wall. He pulled his knees up tight and rested his head in his hands as he waited for the woman to fins him.
“Mr. Larabee, are you alright?”
‘Alright? Never be alright again. I shot my best friend,’ he thought. “I’m fine, Mrs. Wells,” he answered.
Nettie Wells heard the flat tone in his voice and knew he wasn’t fine. She knew Vin Tanner’s fevered words had cut through the gunslinger’s heart and she wished she could take it all away. “Will you tell me about what happened?”
Larabee shook his head as he stood up. “No,” he answered simply as he walked away.
The older woman shook her head as she walked back to the front door of her home. She knew the blond was stubborn and no amount of cajoling could get him to talk until he was ready.
Once inside she noted the quiet and hurried to her room. “How is he?” she asked.
“He’s sleeping, Ma’am,” Jackson answered. “His fever’s up again but that’s to be expected. We’ll just have to fight a little harder to keep it down.”
“How’s Chris?”
Nettie shook her head as she sat in the chair by the young Tracker’s bed. She hated seeing the usually energetic man so weak and pale. She’d come to think of him as one of her own and didn’t want to lose him. She’d suffered many hardships since moving west and didn’t know if she could bare losing this young man as well.
“I’ll sit with him for a while, Mr. Jackson,” she said as she picked up the cloth and bathed the pale face.
“Alright, Mrs. Wells. The rest of you out. He needs to sleep.”
“I’ll go find Chris,” Wilmington said.
“I’d let him have some time to himself, Mr. Wilmington, he needs to sort things out before he can deal with what happened,” Nettie told him.
“She’s right, Brother, we need to give him a little distance and wait till he’s ready to talk. Meanwhile we’ll just keep watching him until that time comes,” Sanchez said.
 |
 |
 |
 |