Part 2

Vin loved ranch life, enjoyed every aspect of living outside the city and listening to the sounds of nature. He sat on the patio overlooking his backyard, munching the nachos, melted cheese, and salsa he often enjoyed as a late night snack. He popped a heavily laden chip into his mouth just as his cell phone rang. He picked up the small device and answered around a mouthful of chip and cheese.

“Tha...ner...”

“Vin, is that you?”

The sharpshooter recognized the voice instantly and heard the nervous tension behind them. He quickly disposed of the chips in his mouth.

“Yeah, it’s me, JD. Something wrong?”

“It’s Chris, Vin...”

“Isn’t he with Anne?”

“I think he was earlier, but Vin...”

“Spill it, JD,” Tanner hissed as the youth hesitated.

“Someone attacked him, Vin...”

“What? Where? How bad?”

“Wait a minute, will you?” the kid asked impatiently.

“Look, JD, how bad is he?”

“Bad. They really did a number on him. Whoever it was beat him and I think they used a knife on him too...”

“Is he at...”

“Saint Vincents. Buck went with him. I’m gonna call the others and let them know. Captain Miller is here and he’s got his men going over the area with a fine tooth comb.”

“Good...I’m leaving now,” Tanner said as he left everything on the table and hurried back through the house, locking the main doors as he went.

“Okay, Vin, see you there.”

“JD?”

“Yeah?”

“Was Chris awake?”

“Yeah, he was... but he was in a lot of pain. I gotta go call the others...”

“Okay...”

“Vin, drive carefully, okay?”

“I will,” Tanner said as he hopped into his jeep wrangler and hung up the phone. The wheels spun, tossing stones behind it as he gunned the vehicle out of the driveway.

The ambulance pulled into the hospital’s ER doors. Scott Tucker hurried to the back and opened the doors, just as a nurse and doctor exited the well lit interior.

“What’ve we got?” an elderly man with a receding silver hairline asked the paramedics as Buck moved out of the way and the stretcher was removed.

“Possible mugging victim,” Cindy said.

“...no...mug...ging...” Larabee muttered as the gurney was rushed inside.

Janice Morton recognized the worried man racing through the doors with them and glanced down at the man in the bed. 

“Knife wound to the left shoulder and right side. Possible concussion, bruised ribs and he’s also been hit in the lower back. BP’s a little low and he lost a fair amount of blood before we got there. He was in a great deal of pain and we administered two milligrams of morphine on the scene,” Scott explained as they lifted him from the gurney onto the ER bed. Janice and a second nurse quickly began cutting the clothes from the injured man.

“What’s your name, Son,” Jason Henderson asked as he looked into the patient’s pupils.

“...Chris Larabee...” the blond answered tiredly.

“I’m Dr. Henderson, Chris. Any dizziness or nausea?” the doctor asked.

“...both...head’s ‘bout to ex...plode...”

“I bet it is. Did the morphine help at all?”

“N...not really...”

“Think you can wait just a little longer until I check out a few things?”

“...think so...”

“That’s good. What are his vitals, Janice?”

“Temperature is ninety eight six, BP is 80/65...”

Henderson listened as she finished with the vitals and watched as Judy Simmons drew several vials of blood from the injured man. He ordered a unit of O-negative blood while they waited for the result of the blood work.

“Janice get X-ray down here and call MRI. Tell them we’ll be sending a patient down as soon as we’re finished here. Chris, I’m going to give you another shot of morphine...”

“...okay...” Larabee groaned softly as they continued their examination of the injuries to his body. A sudden burst of pain exploded through his skull and he lost consciousness as the nurse delivered the second dose of pain medication.

Anne smiled at the elderly woman lying in the bed. Shirley Bradford was seventy two, but the woman was in amazingly good health. She’d been admitted because she’d slipped and broken her ankle, but the silver haired woman smiled when they asked if she needed something for pain.

“Ah, Anne, what’s a young woman like you doing here at this time of the night? Don’t you have a man waiting at home for you?”

“I have a man, Mrs. Bradford, but he understands that I have patients who need me too. Now, Love, why don’t you close your eyes and get some sleep? I’ll come back and check on you in a little while.”

“I’m not...”

A light knock on the door caught their attention and the nurse frowned as she recognized the man standing there.

“Buck, is something wrong?” Anne asked, her instincts telling her something must have happened to Chris if this man was here at this hour.

“There certainly is,” the elderly patient answered. “If that’s the man you got waiting at home then what the hell are you doing here with an old biddy like me?”

“You’re not an old biddy,” Anne said, patting the woman’s shoulder.

“I’d be a spring chicken if that one was in the hen house,” the woman said, smiling at the handsome man holding the door.

Buck forced a smile to his face as the woman looked his way. “Hell, ma’am, I’d be glad to keep your nest warm...”

Shirley Bradford cackled at the man’s pleasant voice and she slapped at the blankets with both hands. “Go on and take your woman home. Ain’t got no need for somethin as handsome as you getting this old ticker riled up. Go on with ya now, ‘fore I change my mind and hop outta this bed.”

“Just buzz the desk if you need anything, Love,” Anne said, keeping the worry out of her voice as she walked to the door. Once they were outside she turned to the dark haired man, worry evident on her face.

“What’s happened?”

“Anne., JD found Chris outside the building just after ten tonight. He’s been beaten...”

“What? Who? Is he alright?” Her legs felt like they were ready to give out, and she was grateful when his strong arms reached out for her.

“We don’t know anything yet, Anne,” the ladies man answered.

“Where is he?”

“He’s in the ER. The doctors are looking after him and I promised I’d come get you,” Wilmington told her, unsure now whose arms were supporting who.

“I’m going to get Carol to cover for me, Buck. Gimme a minute.”

“You got it, darlin’,” the ladies man said and walked beside her to the desk. He listened while the two women talked and was grateful when carol and another nurse assured her they would cover her patients until someone came in to replace her.

“Come on, Buck,” Anne said as she hurried to the elevator. She pushed the button impatiently as Wilmington stood beside her.

“Easy, Anne,” he said as he noted the tremble of her legs and the tears in her eyes. The door opened and he guided her inside, holding her as she punched the first floor button.

Jason Henderson watched as the nurses completed getting his patient ready to take for an MRI. The bruises covering Larabee’s face had spread to encompass much of the area around his eyes and nose. He took one end of the stretcher and eased it away from the wall. The patient remained unconscious, due to a combination of drugs and the head injury.

“Dr. Henderson.”

The physician recognized the nurse and the man hurrying towards him. He turned to the orderly at he opposite end as he moved to intercept them.

“Doc, how’s Chris?” Wilmington asked.

“We’re just taking him down for an MRI, Mr. Wilmington. Hello, Anne.”

“Hello, Dr. Henderson. Will he be alright?”

“I think he’s gonna be just fine. I’m sending him for an MRI because of the injuries to his head.”

“Is it okay if I go with him?” Sheridan asked.

“You can escort him there, but you know you can’t go in with him.”

“I know. Buck, I’ll be back in a little while,” the nurse explained.

“I’ll be here,” the ladies man said. Turning to the doctor he asked. “How bad?”

“He’s got two knife wounds and lost a considerable amount of blood. X-trays show his right wrist is broken, and he’s got a couple of cracked ribs on the left side. Major bruising on his lower back and probably his kidneys. He also received some blows to the face and head and is suffering from a concussion, that’s why I’ve ordered an MRI.”

“Ah, hell,” the scoundrel hissed.

“I have to check my other patients, Mr. Wilmington. I’ll let you know as soon as we get the results back.”

“Okay, Doc, thanks.”

“Buck, how is he?” Dunne called as he rushed through the door, Standish, Jackson and Sanchez following close on his heels.

“He’s pretty banged up. Dr. Henderson just sent him for an MRI. Anne’s with him.”

“What the hell happened?” Jackson snapped.

“JD knows more than I do, Nathan. He’s the one who found Chris.”

“I didn’t see anything!” Dunne snapped impatiently. “Look, I told you guys I found him after it was over. If he hadn’t called me I wouldn’t h...have known he was there. I did what I could for him and called for help.”

“I know, JD. You did everything right. You got Chris the help he needed,” Wilmington said, hoping to ease the younger man’s fears. 

“Who could’ve done this to him?” Dunne asked.

“I don’t know, Kid, but I aim to find out. Did Bob find anything?”

“There were sign of a fight around Chris’ truck and what looked like blood on the mirror and door. They took samples of all of it and he said he’d let us know what he finds out.”

“Good job, JD. We might as well wait in there,” the ladies man said as they walked towards the waiting room.

“Did you get in touch with Mr. Tanner?” Standish asked.

“Yeah, I called him just before I called you guys. He should be here soon,” Dunne answered as they settled into the uncomfortable waiting room chairs.

Anne stood outside the doors, waiting for the MRI to be finished. She paced the hallway, counting each step from one end to the other. Nothing helped as time seemed to be suspended. She knew the MRI took time, but it didn’t help the nervous tension racing through her body. Again she started for the far end of the hallway, but stopped as the door opened and the stretcher bearing Chris Larabee was wheeled out.

“How is he?” she asked the technician.

“He seems to be coming round. I’ve already called for someone to bring him back to the ER,” the red head answered, before moving back into the room. 

Anne moved to the head of the bed and gently placed her hand on his forehead. She watched as blond eyelashes fluttered and the eyes slowly opened. She smiled at him as he finally focused on her.

“H...hi...” his voice was whisper-soft when he saw who was standing next to him.

“Hi yourself,” she said, flicking back a stray lock of blond hair.

“D...did you get the number of the da...damned truck?”

“Not yet, but I bet Buck and the others are working on it. How are you feeling?” Sheridan asked, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall.

“Sore, head hu...hurts...”

“I bet. You’ve got a lot of bruises on your face,” she told him as she bent close to him.

Chris smiled weakly at his lover and lifted his left hand to wipe away the tears at the corner of her eyes. “Don’t cry, Honey, everything’s gonna be fine.”

“I know it will. I’ll make sure of that,” she warned and knew he understood what she was saying.

“You gonna be my per...personal nurse?” he asked, wincing as he moved and pain stabbed through his side. His eyes clenched tightly as his hand formed a fist at his side.

“Easy, Sweetheart,” Anne told him as she massaged his chest in soft circles.

“Damn,” he hissed as the pain slowly receded and he was able to open his eyes again.

“Excuse me, Ma’am.”

Anne looked up as an orderly came towards her and lifted Larabee’s chart from the edge of the bed. He checked the name and did the same with the wrist band on the patient’s arm.

“I’m going to take you back upstairs, Mr. Larabee,” the man supplied as he took off the brakes.

“...okay...” Larabee said as Anne moved to the head of the bed and helped maneuver it towards the elevator.

Chris settled back against the pillow and let his eyes slide closed. He tried to run through the injuries he’d incurred, hoping it wasn’t serious enough to keep him in the hospital.

“Chris.” She waited for him to look at her. “Don’t expect to be going home tonight.”

“I...I wasn’t...”

“Yes, you were. I know that look and it’s the ‘Okay, so when can I get out of here?’ look. You’ll be in at least overnight, possibly for the wee...”

“No, we have plans...”

“They can wait.”

“Ah, hell,” the blond hissed and closed his eyes. He missed the sympathetic look that passed between the orderly and the woman he loved.

Vin rushed through the emergency room doors and searched for the men he knew would be there. He didn’t see any of them and moved towards the nurse’s desk as the elevator doors opened. He recognized Anne Sheridan and hurried towards the stretcher as it was pushed out of the car. He looked at Larabee’s bruised face, bandaged shoulder and side before meeting the nurse’s soft brown eyes.

“How is he?” he asked softly.

“He’s f...fine,” the blond hissed, opening blackened eyes to look at his friend.

“You don’t look it, Cowboy. Who’d you go and tangle with this time?” Tanner drawled as the stretcher moved towards a small examination room. 

“I d...don’t know. Seem to remember at least two, maybe three...one of em had a knife...” Larabee moaned as he tried to recall more details. Failing miserably as the attempt set off a small explosion in his skull.

“Easy, Chris. We’ll talk about this later,” the tracker said, patting the blond’s bare left shoulder.

“...okay...” the blond mumbled, his eyes tightly closed as he fought against the mounting nausea. He recognized the second nurse who held the door for him to be wheeled inside.

“Buck and the others are in the waiting room, Vin. You go join them and we’ll let you all know what’s happening once the doctor sees the results of the tests,” Janice told him. 

“Anne, will you stay with him?”

“Yes,’ the nurse answered as the orderly and Janice Morton pushed the stretcher inside.

“Alright. I’ll go let the others know he’s back.”

“Okay,” Sheridan said as the younger man suddenly embraced her. “Thank you, Vin,” she said as he pulled away almost instantly. She watched as he hurried towards the waiting room, grateful that he understood and accepted her relationship to Chris Larabee.

Buck paced the small area between the window and the door. Several times he’d checked with the desk, only to find Larabee was still in MRI. He finally dropped into the seat beside JD and picked up the well worn magazine from the table. The edges of the National Geographic were dog-eared, showing how many times it had been used by frustrated family members waiting for word on a loved one.

“Buck, Vin’s here,” Dunne said, standing up and hurrying to meet the sharpshooter.

“Vin,” Wilmington said as the five men joined the newcomer at the door.

“We don’t know anything yet,” Standish said.

“I just saw him,” Tanner informed them.

“You did?” Wilmington asked.

“Yeah, they were bringing him back to his room. Anne’s gonna stay with him and have the doctor come see us once he’s got the results of the tests.”

“Was he awake?” Jackson asked.

“Yeah, think he had a hell of a headache though,” the younger man offered.

“He’s probably got a concussion,” the medic offered.

“Anything new on what happened?” the tracker asked.

“Nothing, Bob is out at the scene. He’s got men going over the area with a fine tooth comb,” Dunne explained.

“We’ll have to wait until Chris is conscious and talking to find out what happened,” Sanchez told them.

“He mentioned at least two, maybe three men. One of ‘em had a knife,” the tracker hissed.

“Yeah, figured that,” Dunne said as he envisioned the wounds to his mentor’s arm and side.

“Did Anne give you any idea how long it would be before they had the results of the tests?” Jackson asked.

“No, but she’ll make sure we know,” Tanner said, moving to one of the empty seats by the window. He watched as the other five resumed their seats and waited for word on the injured team leader.

Anne ran her fingers lightly through the blond hair, smiling as Larabee turned into the touch. She looked up as the door opened and Henderson came into the room.

“Chris, Dr. Henderson is here,” she said softly, knowing her lover’s head was pounding. She watched as Larabee’s tongue flicked out as if seeking moisture and smiled as the eyes slowly opened and focused on the older man standing beside her.

“Hello, Chris, how are you feeling?”

“...okay...tired...”

“How’s your head?”

“About the same.”

“Well, that’s understandable. You received a couple of severe blows to your head,” Henderson explained as he used a small light to check his patient’s eyes.

“Feels like more t...than a couple,” the blond told him.

“You’ve got a pretty serious concussion to go along with bruised ribs and a couple of knife wounds,” the doctor explained as he turned off the light and stood back. “How’s your vision? Any blurriness?”

“A little, light hurts...”

“Anne, could you turn down the lights?” the physician asked.

“Certainly, Doctor,” the nurse said as she moved to the wall and adjusted the switch.

“Is that better?” Henderson asked.

“Yeah, thanks...so when can I get out of here?” the blond asked.

“Well, I want to keep you a couple of days...”

“Hell, Doc,” the blond winced at the effort it took to raise his voice.

“Lie still, Chris,” Sheridan warned.

“Chris, you’re suffering from a major concussion, plus you lost quite a bit of blood. I’m not releasing you until I’m certain there’s nothing we haven’t seen. Now, I’m going to go let the desk know I’m admitting you and see if we can get you a room with a more comfortable bed,” the doctor said.

“Shit,” Larabee swore as he lay back against the pillow and closed his eyes.

“I’ve written orders for pain medication, but because of the concussion it’s very mild. If things get really bad let one of the nurses know and they’ll contact me,” Henderson told him.

“Yeah...okay...” the blond mumbled tiredly.

“Anne, I’ll let his men know what’s going on and that we’ll be keeping Chris for a few days.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Larabee said as the man left them alone. He turned to the woman standing over him and saw tears in her eyes.

“Oh, Chris,” she said as she kissed his forehead, carefully avoiding the newly stitched wound over his right eye. The dark bruise had spread to encompass the eye and part of his cheek.

“Hey, it’s not as bad as it l...looks, Anne. I’m fine,” he said, wincing as he reached to pull her down to him.

“Sure you are, Chris. That’s why you can’t even move without something hurting.”

“I’m okay, or I will be once I get out of here. I’m sorry about ruining our plans,” he told her.

“Our plans are not ruined, Chris. They’re just postponed until you’re feeling better.”

“So, we can still check out the Jacuzzi?” Larabee asked, a cocky grin on his battered face.

“Chris!” she couldn’t help smiling at him, her mind and body reacting to the last time they’d used the Jacuzzi.

“I love it when you blush,” he said, shifting up in the bed, biting back a cry of pain as his battered body protested the move.

“Just lie still, Honey,” Anne ordered.

“T...think that’s a wise i...idea,” the blond said as he gripped the sheets tightly. He felt her hands gently massage his temple and turned into the soft touch.

“Like that, do you?” Sheridan asked as she heard a soft sigh from her lover.

“You have m...magic fingers.”

“I’m glad you think so. Why don’t you try to sleep.”

“N...no point...”

“Why not?” she asked as she continued the soothing massage.

“J...just wake up w...when they move me,” he answered softly.

“Oh...is there anything I can do to help you feel better?”

“Hmm, hmm,” the blond mumbled tiredly.

“What is it?” she asked softly, hoping he was asleep.

“You could climb in here with me,” he said, his eyes closed as the grin returned to his face.

“I don’t think so!” She laughed as she placed a gentle kiss on his brow.

“Damn...worth a try...”

“Go to sleep, Cowboy,” she teased, loving the nickname Vin Tanner had supplied her with.

“Ah, hell, re...mind me to sh...shoot him ne...next time I s...see him...Shit!”

“What’s wrong?” Sheridan asked worriedly.

“No...nothing...”

“Chris!”

“I just found o...out moving...is not a g...good idea.”

“Oh, where are you hurting...”

“Where am I not....sorry...” he apologized immediately.

“It’s okay, Chris. Do you need something for pain?”

“Not right now, Anne. Think I just need your magic touch again.”

“Sure,” Sheridan smiled as she placed her hands on his face and slowly eased some of the lines of pain. She felt him relax under her touch and hoped he’d give in to his body’s need for sleep.

Henderson finished writing the orders for admitting Chris Larabee. Taking a deep breath he walked towards the waiting room where his patient’s team were. The minute he walked through the door six men descended on him.

“How is he?” Dunne asked.

“Will he be okay,” Wilmington enquired.

“Gentleman, let’s show a modicum of patience and allow the good doctor a chance to tell us about Mr. Larabee’s condition,” Standish blustered in an effort to hide his own need for answers.

“Doc?” Tanner asked.

“I’ve admitted him, at least for a couple of days,” Henderson answered and indicated for the six men to take a seat. “Chris is suffering from a major concussion, bruised ribs, and two knife wounds. The one in his side is nothing more than a surface wound, but the one to his left arm was deep, but luckily it’s nothing more than minor tissue damage. His right wrist is broken and will be placed in a cast tomorrow. He’s also got a lot of bruising to his lower back and we’ll be watching for problems with his kidneys. I’ve got him on IV antibiotics because of the knife wounds. I’ve also written an order for a mild pain killer.”

“He is gonna be okay, isn’t he, Doc?” Dunne asked.

“He’s going to be very sore for a while, but I don’t see any reason he won’t make a full recovery.”

“Can we see him?” Jackson asked.

“Anne is in there with him right now, but I think it’ll be okay for you to see him. One at a time and only until they get a room ready for him. Once we move him upstairs I’d like him to get some rest,” Henderson explained.

“Thanks, Doc,” Jackson said, shaking the older man’s hand as he stood up.

“You’re welcome, just remember to keep it short and let my patient rest.”

“We will,” Standish assured him.

“JD.” Tanner placed a hand on the youth’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Dunne said softly.

“Why don’t you go see Chris?” He knew he’d done the right thing when the younger man’s face showed his relief.

“Are you sure? I mean he is your...”

“It’s okay, Kid. You go on and check on Chris,” Wilmington said.

“Okay, thanks...I won’t be long,” Dunne said and nearly tripped in his own feet in his rush to check on his mentor.