“I’m talkin’ once you’re outta the clinic, Buck. I’m leaving now. You boys hold on till I get back. O...Okay?”
They heard the tremble in the usually strong voice as he stumbled over the last word. Even in the darkness the two men felt fear over Larabee’s condition. There was something he was keeping from them, but right now they could only take him at his word.
“Alright, Chris, you just make sure ya git back ‘ere in one piece. Watch yer back, Cowboy!”
“I won’t be long.”
“Shit!” Buck groaned as he held his arm against his side.
“What’s wrong?”
“Think my side’s bleeding again. Can feel somethin’ sticky running down my back.”
“Let me take a look,” Tanner reached into his pocket and pulled out a match. It soon flared in the darkness and he could see Wilmington was right. He snuffed out the match and spoke sharply to hide his concern. “Why the hell didn’t you stop when I told ya to? This keeps up ya’ll bleed ta death!”
“What’s the difference between bleedin’ to death and smotherin’ once the air runs o...out” the scoundrel gasped as Tanner’s hands removed the bandage from his side.
“I don’t aim on dyin’ right now, Bucklin and I don’t want ta hear that outta you! We both promised Chris we’d be here when he gits back...”
“If he gets back. We both heard him, Vin. He’s hurtin’.”
“Yeah, he is, but he’s countin’ on us. Now shut up and let me finish this so’s ya can lie down and rest yer ornery hide!” His patience was wearing thin and he knew he was being harder on the man than he needed to be.
“Ain’t gonna lie down. Best we can do is keep diggin’ and hope we can make a hole big enough ta let some air in h...here!”
“Yer fuckin’ lyin’ down if’n I gotta tie ya down, Wilmington!” he snapped.
“Ain’t got much bedside manners, Tanner!” the ladies man gasped as the younger one cleaned and re-bandaged the wound.
“Case ya haven’t noticed yer not in a bed. Ain’t got no time fer manners. There, Now stay put and shut up ‘fore ya use up whatever air we got left in ‘ere!”
“Bossy and...”
“Shut up!”
Wilmington knew the younger man wasn’t angry with him. He could hear the worry in the Texan’s usually steady voice and knew he was nearing the end of his rope. For once the ladies’ man did as he was told, hiding the guilt he felt. He knew it was his fault they were trapped in this cave and he listened as the sharpshooter went back to work on the debris. He drifted towards sleep, knowing he didn’t have the energy to help the tracker anymore.
Chris stood up and heard the sound of a horse off to his left. He knew Peso and Buck’s gray were by the creek. It took a few seconds for him to remember Burt Thompson had moved the horses into the brush before they’d been killed. He couldn’t leave the animals tied there with no water and he stumbled towards the sound. He spoke soothingly to the horses as he got closer and soon had the reins in his hands. He led them to the creek and ground tied them close to the water. He removed the two canteens from the saddles and placed them near the edge of the creek. Next he searched the saddlebags for anything he could use to cover the wound in his chest. He fumbled through the first saddlebag and found nothing useful. The second one yielded a well-worn, but seemingly clean white shirt hidden in the bottom.
Chris took it to the edge of the creek and sat down. In spite of the pain it caused he used both hands to tear the shirt into strips. He pulled the soiled kerchief from the wound and discarded the useless item. He soaked a piece of the cloth in the creek and again cleaned the wound, breathing deeply as the cool water burned its way into the hole.
“Son of a bitch!” he gasped aloud, angrily fighting back the darkness the pain was trying to send him to. His friends needed help, he didn’t have time for this. He finished cleaning the wound and placed one of the dry pieces of cloth against it. He lifted his left arm, gasping for air as he used his right hand to wrap the bandages around his shoulder and tied it as best he could. He sat where he was waiting for the world to stop spinning before struggling to his feet again. He walked towards Peso, talking calmly to the animal as he reached for the reins.
“Sorry, Boy, but we gotta r...ride,” he said as he pushed his feet against the sides of the horse. Peso obeyed the commands as if this man owned him. This was a path he’d rode many times and he knew instinctively where he was going.
Mary Travis smiled as she saw the two men sitting outside the jail. She carried the newspapers under her arm as she walked towards them.
“Good morning, Mrs. Travis.”
“Hi, Mary.”
“Good morning, JD, Ezra. What time are you expecting Chris, Buck and Vin back?”
“Mr. Larabee assured us he would be returning to our fair town no later than noon hour today. That gives him another hour and forty minutes. Is something wrong, Mr. Dunne?” Standish asked.
“Huh?” Dunne asked.
“You look as if you’ve seen a specter!”
“Specter?”
“Spirit, ghost, doppelganger.” Standish told him.
“No...none of them, but isn’t that Chris’ horse?”
“Pony? Where?” Standish asked as he stood up and glanced around the newspaperwoman. He watched as Dunne raced towards the end of town. “I do believe Mr. Dunne is correct in his assumptions.” He hurried after the Bostonian and could hear JD talking calmly to the skittish animal.
JD ran his hands down Pony’s legs and sides before looking at the two people standing beside him. “He don’t seem to be hurt. He’s hot and sweaty like he’s been racing, but I can’t find nothin’ else wrong with him.”
“Do you think he threw Chris?” Mary asked as she watched the young man continue his examination.
“That’s highly unlikely, Mrs. Travis. Even I would not take odds on such a happenstance. Mr. Larabee is a fine horsemen and if the rumors are in any way substantiated there isn’t an animal that could throw him. I shall endeavor to find our colleagues and inform them of Pony’s return.”
“Josiah and Nathan are in the saloon.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Travis.”
“I’m gonna take Pony to the livery, Ezra.”
“Alright, Mr. Dunne I shall return with the others post haste!” Standish ran towards the saloon and shoved open the swinging doors. He immediately spotted Josiah Sanchez and Nathan Jackson seated at a table at the back.
Nathan looked up as the man hastily approached them. “Something wrong, Ezra?” he asked.
“Pony has just rode into town sans Mr. Larabee. Mr. Dunne has taken him to the livery,” he explained as the healer and the ex-preacher stood up to follow him. The three men hurried out of the nearly deserted saloon and ran towards the livery. They entered to find Yosemite and JD pulling the saddle from the sweaty animal.
“Nathan, Josiah, we gotta go look for Buck and Chris and Vin” Dunne’s excited voice rose and fell as he spoke.
“We will, JD,” Jackson assured him. “Is he hurt?”
“Don’t appear ta be,” the liveryman answered. “Seems ta be a might tuckered out though! I’ll give him a good rubdown and some extra feed. Should be as good as new by tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Yosemite. JD, Ez, could you two get the horses saddled and ready to go in half an hour.”
“Right away, Mr. Sanchez,” Standish assured him.
“Nathan, think maybe you need to...”
“Get my supplies,” Jackson finished for the ex-preacher. “I’ll gather my things and be back here in half an hour.”
“Yosemite, we may need to borrow your wagon,” Sanchez told the liveryman.
“Anything ya need ya can ‘ave, Mr, Sanchez. I’ll get it ready right away,” the large man hurried to get the things he thought the peacekeepers would need. Within half an hour the small contingent of men rode out of Four Corners. Yosemite would follow their trail as soon as he had the wagon ready. They knew the general direction the missing men were coming from and they prayed they’d find them safe and sound.
Chris lay on his back, gasping for air as he stared up at the swirling sun overhead. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious this time, but he knew he’d been reliving the events of the day before, at least he thought it was the day before. He couldn’t be sure how much time passed since he slid from Peso’s back and rolled down the hill. He felt as if Peso now sat on his chest as he tried to roll over.
“Shit!’ he hissed as he finally turned onto his stomach. He couldn’t remember crawling back up the hill, but he was grateful he’d done so already. He lifted his head and looked down into the small gully and knew he wouldn’t have had the energy to climb out of it now.
“Should’ve made it a goddamned month of no women, Wilmington!” he rasped as he coughed the dust from his lungs. The dryness of his throat reminded him of coarse sand gritting against his skin. He struggled to rise to his knees and finally gained his feet. He stood with his right hand held tightly to his chest as he gasped for air. The sun was halfway across the cloudless sky and the heat shimmered off the hard packed ground in front of him. He forced his body to obey the commands his fevered mind put out. He wondered why he’d had the misfortune of falling off Peso, yet the canteens had remained on the saddle. He’d do anything for a drop of water, but there was none to be found. He stumbled forward unaware that his eyes were partially closed and he had no way of knowing he’d stumbled off the main trail. On and on he staggered, hoping and praying he’d be in time to get help for his trapped friends.
“Son of a bitch!”
“V...Vin, w...what hap...pened!” Wilmington stammered.
“Just dropped a rock,” Tanner answered. He was worried about the older man. Wilmington’s breathing was punctuated with gasps of pain as he lay in the darkness.
“Ya been dropping rocks a...all day, Vin...”
“Not on my thumb, Buck!”
“Ouch, I’ve done that a few times. It h...hurts.” Wilmington coughed and groaned as it tore at the wounds in his side.
“Here,” the sharpshooter pressed the canteen into his hand and listened as Wilmington drank his fill.
“Thanks.”
It grew quiet once more in the confines of the cave except for the gasping breaths of the two men. Vin knew the air was growing thinner and it was important he make a hole for fresh air to seep in.
“Vin, I...I’m sorry.”
Tanner leaned tiredly against the rocks as he lifted another one from the pile. “For what?”
“For getting y...you and C...Chris in this mess. He always said I think below my waist and h...he’s right. Didn’t mean to get you t...two...”
“Buck,” Tanner interrupted. “Ya are who ya are and Chris knows that. We’ve all made enemies, some more’n others. More often than not trouble comes ‘cause of the price on my head or Chris’ reputation. Hell, do you blame us fer that?”
“N...No...b...but....”
“No buts, Buck, I’m proud ta call ya friend and if’n we don’t make it outta ‘ere I don’t blame ya.”
Again the two men grew silent until Wilmington’s weak voice once more broke into the darkness. “How long since Chris left?”
“Gotta be close ta four hours now.”
“Think he m...made it?”
The tracker heard the hope in the stammered words and tried to set the injured man’s mind at ease. “Ya know Chris as well as I do, Bucklin. He ain’t a quitter. He’s probably had a couple of shots of whiskey at the saloon while he’s waitin’ fer the others ta git their shit together! Now lie down and be quiet ‘fore ya start bleedin’ like a stuck pig again!”
“Could say the same thing for you, Vin. How’s the leg?”
“Numb, but least it ain’t bleedin’.” Vin turned back to the pile of rocks and slowly started moving as many as he could. He knew he’d lied to Wilmington. He could feel the blood seeping through the bandage the older man wrapped around his leg. There were other things he needed to worry about now though. Like keeping them alive. He hoped he hadn’t lied to Wilmington about Chris too. He hoped he did make it back to town, he just tried to ignore the bad feeling as he wearily continued to move the rocks.
JD led the way along the route he knew the others would be taking. He was proud of his abilities. Vin Tanner had been teaching him to look for signs and he was getting very adept at tracking. The sharpshooter was already praising him and saying he had natural abilities.
He looked up as a soft whinny sounded in front of him. He instantly recognized Peso and rode quickly towards him, talking softly so as not to startle the animal.
The others watched as Peso’s head came up and he seemed to stare straight at the kid. JD talked to the horse while the three older men hung back. Tanner’s horse would side step the young easterner’s grasp, but he was determined to catch the reins. Five minutes after they discovered the lone horse JD held the reins in his hands and dismounted his own horse.
“I got him!” he called to the others.
“Is he hurt?” Sanchez asked.
“I don’t think so. He’s just wore out like Pony was,” Dunne explained as he again ran his hands down the legs of the sweaty animal.
“Any sign of Mr. Wilmington’s horse?” Standish asked as he took a sip of water.
“No, but I think I know where they might be,” the youngest member of the seven answered.
“Where?” Jackson asked.
“There’s a cave a couple of miles south of here. A creek runs alongside the hill and it’s a great spot to hold up. Vin says he’s slept there a few times when he needed some time to himself.”
“Can you find it, JD?” Sanchez asked.
“Sure thing, Josiah,” Dunne answered as he remounted. He wrapped Peso’s reins around his saddle horn as he led the men towards the cave.
“Some friend you are?”
He heard the raspy croak and was surprised when he realized it escaped from his throat. He knew he was on the ground again, with the sun beating down on him.
“Not too smart, Larabee. Should’ve at least tried to make it to the shade. What the hell’m I doin’ out here anyway?” The question was hard to grasp, yet he knew there was something important he was supposed to be doing.
‘Think, Larabee where were you going? What the hell’s wrong with your chest?’ he thought. “Buck, Vin, get yer ass moving!” he ordered as he forced himself to stand.
A dry tongue snaked out and stuck to chapped lips as he looked ahead of him. A dark form moved towards him and he smiled as the familiar form took shape. “Nathan!” he called and slid back to the ground as the healer dissolved before his eyes. He felt his eyes closing and battled against the encroaching darkness.
‘Have to get help,’ he thought as he climbed back to shaky legs. Once more he began a stumbling gait, unaware he’d just by-passed the route into Four Corners.
Vin pulled another rock from the pile, hoping against hope he’d see a sliver
of daylight once he dropped it to the ground. He looked up and was disappointed
once more. He sighed as he lifted the canteen and took a sip of the tepid liquid.
“B...Buck!” he gasped and reached for the other man. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the steady rise and fall of Wilmington’s chest. “Just hang on, Bucklin, we’re gonna get outta ‘ere!” He turned back to the job at hand and continued to dig through the rocks and other debris. He kept one ear tuned to the sound of his friend’s breathing, praying it would continue in spite of the dwindling air.
“There it is!” Dunne shouted and pulled up short as he saw the landslide covering what should’ve been the opening to the cave. He dismounted and hurried towards the destruction.
Nathan Jackson’s eyes were drawn to the two bodies lying on the ground to the left of the cave. He dismounted and moved towards the two figures, breathing a sigh of relief as he realized both men were strangers.
Ezra Standish heard the sound of horses and headed for the creek as Josiah Sanchez followed Jackson to the bodies.
Jackson knew without touching them the men were dead. He looked up as the ex-preacher joined him. “Looks like they died sometime yesterday.” He moved towards a dark stain closer to the cave. He ran his fingers over it and looked up at his friend. “This is blood!” he exclaimed worriedly.
“Theirs?”
“No. Least I don’t think so. If it was theirs there’d be a trail leading over to them.”
“JD, can you hear anything?” Sanchez called as he watched the younger man pounding one rock against another.
“Nothing yet, Josiah!” he called. “Buck! Vin! Chris! Are you in there?” the kid shouted.
“Buck? If you’re in there let us know!”
“Vin, s...stop!”
Tanner looked up at the weak cry. “What’s wrong?”
“L...listen!”
The sharpshooter could hear the hope in the older man’s voice as he mumbled the word. He listened, but heard nothing at first and was ready to turn back to the pile of rocks.
“Buck! Answer me! Are you guys in there?”
“He made it! T...the s...stubborn son of a bitch m...made it!” Wilmington laughed.
“We’re here, Kid!”
“Nathan, Josiah, it’s them! They’re in there!” Dunne called and looked to the side of the cave as Standish returned with three horses in tow.
“I take it you’ve discovered the whereabouts of our missing comrades?” the conman asked as he tied the horses with the other animals.
“Are you there, JD?”
“Yeah, Vin, we’re here. Are you guys okay?”
Tanner nearly laughed as he moved his leg. He knew they were both far from okay as he answered.
“Not really, JD. Buck been shot and we’re a little low on air.”
“Tell Nathan, Vin’s got a b...bullet in his leg! Is Chris okay?”
JD looked confused at Wilmington’s last statement and saw the same emotion on the faces of the other three men as they began removing the debris.
“Nathan’s right here and we’re working on gettin’ you guys out! Isn’t Chris in there with you guys?”
Buck could hear his companion’s sharply indrawn breath. He’d heard JD’s question and knew things didn’t bode well for his long time friend. Again guilt washed over him in a wave of pain as he remembered they were in this position because of him.
“Chris left to find help. He was outside when the landslide covered the entrance. Didn’t he bring you guys here?”
“No, Buck, Pony came into town riderless this morning and we came looking for you guys. We found Peso a couple of miles north of here!”
“Shit!” Wilmington swore.
“Maybe he took your horse, Buck.” Tanner suggested.
“Do you really believe that, Vin?”
“I don’t know, Buck, but there’s one way to find out.”
“JD, is Buck’s horse still by the creek?”
“He’s here, Vin!”
Tanner heard the voices growing louder and knew the men were close to breaking through the landslide. He renewed his own efforts as it became an even greater struggle to breath the stale air. He could hear Wilmington working beside him and knew they were both wondering the same thing. ‘Where the hell was Chris Larabee?’
The air was growing very thin and both men coughed as dust billowed up in the cave as they moved the debris. His mind didn’t even register the thin stream of sunlight as it sliced through the newly formed opening.
“You two sit down and stop moving about. From the sounds of it you’ve both lost enough blood and can’t afford to lose anymore. We’ll be through in a couple of minutes,” Jackson ordered as he listened to the labored breathing of both men.
Vin could barely make out Wilmington’s dirt covered face, but what he saw was a welcome sight. The man’s blue eyes were open and he was still breathing.
“L...looks like we’re g...gettin’ o...outta here,” Wilmington rasped and gave into the call of darkness.
“Buck!” Tanner hissed and moved to check his friend. Wilmington was still breathing and for this the tracker was grateful. He sat beside the older man and watched as little by little the narrow slit of sunlight grew larger. He smiled as Jackson’s face appeared in the opening. “It’s good ta see ya, Nate!”
Jackson returned the smile as he said, “good to see you too. Is he alright?”
“Yeah, just passed out.”
“What about you?”
“Guess I’m gonna be needin’ yer skills as well. Got a bullet in my leg.”
“Alright, just relax for a few more minutes and we’ll get you both outta there.”
“Ya didn’t see Chris?”
“No. He never showed up,” Jackson remembered the unexplained patch of blood on the nearby ground, but didn’t voice his new fears. Something told him the blood belonged to the missing gunslinger. He watched as the hole grew larger and was finally big enough for him to squeeze through. He crawled to the two men and smiled in spite of his worries. “Are you ready to get outta here?”
“Do I even ‘ave ta answer that?” Tanner asked as he watched Josiah and JD widen the opening.
Jackson laughed, “No, guess not. Josiah, as soon’s ya get that opening big enough we’re gonna have to lift Buck outta here. It looks like he’s been bleeding pretty bad,” he explained as he checked the bandage on the rogue’s side. He turned his attention to the sharpshooter’s leg and was shocked to see just how much blood soaked through the bandage and the torn pants. “Vin, I’m gonna need to get that bullet out as soon as we’re outta here.”
“Nathan, I think we can get them out of there now!” Sanchez said as he and JD moved into the cave. He knew the debris surrounding them could collapse at any time and wanted to get his friends out quickly.
“Good. Josiah, take Vin out first. Don’t let him put any weight on that leg.”
“I can...”
“Vin, just do as I said and don’t argue. This place could go again any time and I don’t have time to argue. Get him out, Josiah!”
“Come on, Vin,” Josiah reached for the younger man as JD Dunne knelt next to the unconscious ladies man.
Vin released his grip on Wilmington and reached for the ex-preacher’s outstretched hand. He bit back a groan as he was pulled to his feet. He leaned heavily on the larger man and was more than grateful for the support.
“T...thanks, Josiah,” he mumbled as the older man led him towards the exit.
“I’ll be right back to help with Buck,” Sanchez told Jackson.
“Is he gonna be alright, Nathan?” Dunne asked worriedly.
“I don’t know yet, JD. He’s lost a lot of blood, but Buck’s as stubborn as a mule,” he said as Sanchez rejoined them. “Alright, JD, get outside.”
“But...”
“Don’t argue, JD, just go!” Jackson snapped impatiently, regretting his words instantly, there’d be time enough for apologies later. He helped Sanchez lift the ladies man and the three followed the kid out into the evening sunlight. “Josiah, Carry him down to the creek. Ezra, JD, you two help Vin. Make sure you keep the weight off that leg.”
Jackson grabbed the reins of the horses and followed his friends to the water. It didn’t take long to settle the two injured men on blankets. Nathan grabbed the supplies from his horse and turned to the three healthy men.
“Ezra, get a fire going and set some water to boiling. JD, look after them horses. Josiah, I’m gonna need ya to help me with Vin and Buck.”
“What do you want me to do, Brother?” Josiah asked.
“Check Buck’s side. Wash it and use some of that whiskey to clean it. We gotta get his fever down. Vin stay put. I’m gonna get that bullet outta there as soon’s the water’s heated.” The healer reached into his bag and pulled out the bottle of laudanum he kept there. “Here, I want you to take some of this.”
The sharpshooter swallowed the offering of Laudanum and tried to ignore the burning pain in his leg. He felt his mind slipping towards sleep, but thoughts of the missing blond would keep him from resting peacefully. ‘Where the hell are ya, Larabee?’ he thought as Jackson tore the pant leg apart.
The pain was back, burning deep in his chest, but it was little compared to the thirst as he tried to find a trace of moisture in his mouth. He’d lost count of how many times he’d stand up, stumble a few feet and then fall again. Over and over he repeated the same process with little thought of how he was moving. The sun was nearly gone now, but it was still light enough for him to make out a simple house up ahead. He prayed he’d find help there and get back to his friends before it was too late. ‘Too late! It’s probably already is too late!’
“Goddammit!” He cried as he fell to the ground again. His body shuddered with the onset of reawakened nerves as his left arm impacted with the earth. He lifted his head and looked longingly towards the house. He tried to find the strength to stand once more, but blood loss, pain, exhaustion and thirst combined to sap him of his resolve. With one final soul-shattering cry he called for help. He thought the cry would be heard for miles, but the sound didn’t travel past his own ears. With a final breath of defeat he surrendered to the inevitable feeling of loss once more. As his head dropped back to the ground a sigh passed his barely moving lips. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“How’s he doing, Josiah?”
“The wound looks infected. I’ve cleaned it up some, but it’s oozing bloodied pus.”
“Alright, just place a bandage over it till I’m done here,” Jackson ordered as he looked into the tired, pain filled blue eyes of the tracker. “Vin, I’m gonna get that bullet out now.”
“O...okay,” Tanner managed in a breathless whisper.
“Josiah, Ezra, I’m gonna need your help,” Jackson said as he set his instruments next to him. “You’re gonna have to hold him down while I dig for the bullet. Here, Vin, bite down on this!” the healer ordered as he placed a knotted kerchief in front of the pale man’s face. He nodded as the younger man took the offering and then turned back to the injured leg. He lifted the instrument he’d need to probe for the bullet and with one last glance at his friend he went to work. As he pressed into the wound he heard the muffled gasps from the tracker, but turned a cold heart to the cries. He knew what needed to be done and forced his emotions to the far corner of his mind. A place he knew would be there when he was done and as always those emotions would come back tenfold once the job of caring for his injured friends was done.
Josiah watched as the healer concentrated on the removal of the bullet. The steady hands, the hardened face, the calm exterior were something he’d seen time after time. He knew the emotional upheaval that would follow and the exhaustion Jackson would deal with once this was done. He watched as the fine fingers manipulated the instrument, until he found the metal that caused so much damage.
Vin bit down on the knotted material in his mouth. He fought to hold himself steady in spite of the pain and torment, but he felt the trembling as Jackson continued to probe for the bullet. He heard the healer say something about ‘got it’ just before he gave into the darkness.
“Got it, Vin!”
“He’s out, Brother!” Josiah explained as he withdrew the knotted material from the slack lips.
“Thank the lord!” Jackson gasped as he cleaned and stitched the tortured flesh.
“Josiah?” Sanchez looked up at the pale-faced easterner. He knew the kid was worried about the two men, yet he was keeping those feeling well hidden. “I’m gonna backtrack and make sure Yosemite doesn’t ride past.”
The ex-preacher smiled and nodded as the younger man mounted up and rode out.
“Mr. Jackson, if you are in no more need of my services I shall endeavor to fix something suitable for our meal as well as something for our ailing friends.”
“That’d be great, Ezra. Thanks.” The healer finished bandaging the sharpshooter’s leg and draped a blanket over him. “Ez, can you put more water on. I want to have some willow bark tea ready for both of ‘em when they wake up.”
“Of course, Mr. Jackson.”
“Alright, Josiah, let’s have a look at Buck,” the healer knelt beside the unconscious form and felt the heat in the prone body. He lifted the bandage from the wound and reached for his instruments. He took the clean scalpel and applied a small amount of pressure to the ravaged area. He felt Buck move slightly and cry out as he drained the lingering infection from both entrance and exit wounds. He looked up and met Sanchez’s eyes as the flow lessened and soon was just a trickle of blood. He accepted the bottle of whiskey and cleaned it again, patting Wilmington’s shoulders as a cry of outrage spilled from his throat.
“Easy, Buck, I’m almost done,” Jackson soothed the injured man. “Josiah, see if you can get a little of this down into him.”
Sanchez accepted the Laudanum, poured a small amount into a spoon and lifted the sweaty head. He held the spoon to the mouth and slowly fed the laudanum past the partially open mouth. “Come on, Brother, swallow it. That’s it,” he said as the ladies man accepted the medicine.
“T...thanks J’siah, w...water!”
“Give him some water, Josiah. Buck, I’m just gonna put in some stitches and then we’ll let you get some sleep.”
Wilmington swallowed the water and nodded his head. His blue eyes opened and settled on the two men kneeling beside him. “V...Vin....Chris?”
“Vin’s lying right beside ya. He’s gonna be fine and you will too if you’ll do as I tell ya.”
“C...Chris,” the scoundrel rasped.
“Don’t know,” Jackson answered honestly. “He wasn’t here when we got ya out.”
“G...gotta f...find him N...Nathan...some...thing ...wrong...he...ard it...voice...”
Although Wilmington’s words were scattered, Jackson, Sanchez and Standish had little trouble understanding their meaning. Chris Larabee was out there somewhere and he was hurt. Wilmington was telling them something they already knew, but until now hadn’t vocalized.
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