Part 5: Things to Say
They reached the great black hole in total silence. Each lost in his own thoughts, each thinking of Vin in his own way, but all wanting nothing more than to find him alive. Knowing the odds of that decreased with each passing hour - each passing moment, sorrow sat heavily upon them, and every step felt more like ten.
Chris led the way, and in spite of the fact that he’d been there before, he still seemed surprised when they came to the chasm – as if it had all been a dream. The extra lanterns brought to light the reality of the situation however, as the enormity of the opening became clear, although its depth remained a mystery.
Josiah took the lead when Chris stood by uncertainly. Tying a rope to a lantern, the preacher lay on his belly overlooking the drop, and slowly lowered the lantern over the edge.
Chris had the most unreasonable urge to run the other way. And to keep running as far and as fast as he could go. He’d intended to come to this spot, intended to lower that lantern and find out one way or another if Vin had been a victim of nature’s trap. Yet he could not bring himself to look.
Even when he heard Buck’s soft gasp, "Oh my god."
The lantern gave off little illumination by the time it reached the ground below, but in the shadows, the form of a man could just barely be seen.
Chris could hardly catch his breath and felt his heart exploding from his chest as he took the second rope and began to tie it securely around his waist. Buck grabbed his friend’s noticeably shaking hands and said, "Let me do this, Chris."
Larabee was about to explain that he’d gotten Vin into this, and he’d get him out, when JD spoke up, "Uh, guys, I think there’s something over here." Dunne’s young eyes had spotted a ledge of some sort several feet to the right of where Josiah had lowered his lamp.
The gunslinger ignored the youth as he tightened the rope. They’d found what they came for. But Buck noted the urgency in JD’s voice, and he took his lantern to get a better look. Lying flat like Josiah had, he lowered the light as far down as his long arms would reach.
"Chris!" he called excitedly. "Get over here!"
This time, the gunslinger did look up, while Josiah quickly pulled up his lantern and moved it closer to the ledge that JD had found. It was Josiah’s turn to gasp as the soft glow from the lamp revealed another body. "It’s Vin," he stated softly.
He was there then, lying flat between Buck and Josiah, his eyes straining to see a movement, a twitch, a breath. But as Chris realized the precariousness of Vin’s position, he began to pray that the tracker would not so much as flinch. And then it hit him. He was here hours ago. He’d left Vin lay here for hours.
Josiah had risen and was looking for an anchor to tie the other end of the rope to. Finding none, he offered himself. "I’ll keep a hold of you, Chris. You go on down and take a look. Buck can back me up."
"Maybe I should go," JD suggested. "I’m lighter."
"No." Three voices spoke simultaneously, with equal firmness. JD had the ridiculous picture of himself as a toothless old man like Chester - still being called "Kid" and still being treated like one.
Chris had already started testing the edges of the hole, looking for a stable place to begin his decent. He’d thought he found one, but the weight of his body knocked loose the surrounding earth and it gave way as he started to lower himself. Losing his footing, he found himself falling faster than planned, hitting the walls of the chasm as he fell and causing more rocky shale to plummet. The entire place was unstable, and he feared his clumsy rescue attempt had endangered Vin even more.
Josiah felt the rope slide through his hands before he was ready, but his quick reflexes kept the gunslinger from landing in a heap next to Roy. Buck grabbed a hold, too, until Sanchez could work himself into a sturdier position, his back braced against the stone walls.
Buck instructed JD, "Take the lantern and lower it as close to Vin as you can so Chris can see. Be careful, we don’t need to be dropping any more rocks on his head."
Now JD was getting mad. Did Buck think he was stupid? He squirmed carefully onto his belly and did as he was told. The soft light shone around Tanner’s head like a halo. Long hair covered his face, and JD felt strangely glad of that. He didn’t know if he could stand to see it. Vin hadn’t moved or made a sound as he lay twisted awkwardly on the narrow ledge some ten or twelve feet below. With sudden insight, JD understood why the other men didn’t want him to be the one to check on Vin. As much as he’d learned in his time with them, as much as he’d seen, he still was not prepared to reach out and touch the lifeless body of a friend.
Chris knew that he could never be prepared for this. No matter how many loved ones he lost, no matter how many friends he buried along the way, he could never be ready to do it again. And he could never be ready to bury this man, in particular. But there was still hope, and he reminded himself of that as he cautiously maneuvered his body closer to where Vin lay. The earth seemed to crumble wherever he put his hands and feet, and he had the terrible vision of his very touch upsetting the delicate balance that held Vin from the rocky floor so far below. And so, when he finally reached the tracker’s side, he hesitated.
"Chris?" Buck questioned as he peered down over the edge, while helping to steady Larabee’s rope and keep some of the weight off of Josiah.
As it turned out, he didn’t need to touch his friend. He could make out his harsh, labored breathing from where he hung by his side. It sounded like Vin was breathing through sand. But he was breathing. The wonderful truth of that fact nearly took the gunslinger’s own breath away. No longer able to resist, he reached out and brushed the hair from the ashen face. Tears filled his eyes once more as he lifted his head and choked, "he’s alive."
Never one to hide his emotions, Buck whooped for joy, then sprang into action. "You got Chris?" he asked Josiah.
Josiah was beginning to feel the weight, but he had renewed strength and determination from the two words that Chris had uttered. "I’m fine. Go on and get the other rope."
Wilmington made quick work of obtaining another rope and lowering it to Larabee. Chris grabbed it, but once again worried that moving Vin would cause the entire shelf to crumble. He was still considering where and how to tie it, when he felt a penetrating gaze upon him. He turned to see Vin’s wide blue eyes trying hard to focus. Tanner’s dry, cracked lips moved, but it was clear that his efforts to speak were undermined by his struggle to breathe. Chris hurried to calm him, reaching over again to gently rub a hand across his cheek.
"Hey Pard," he said softly. "Got yourself in a mess here. But don’t worry, we’re gonna get you out." He gave his injured friend a small smile, although he didn’t believe the tracker really saw him.
Vin was under water, but he could see Chris through the haze. Could see him hovering close in some strange way that didn’t quite make sense. He wanted to talk to him, wanted to tell him to please get him out; to please God, give him a drink. He tried to speak, but the water fell into his lungs and he couldn’t catch his breath. Then he felt someone lift him up, felt his back break in two and his ribs catch on fire and he wanted to scream, but he couldn’t do that, either. And just like that, just that quick, he knew where he was again. Knew he was in that terrible black place, clinging for dear life on a tiny wedge of loose dirt.
But this time, finally, Chris was with him.
Chris winced when he lifted Vin’s upper body just enough to slide the rope underneath. He knew he’d hurt Tanner, knew it without the tracker making a sound, and it almost made him wish their connection were not so strong. In the same way, he knew that Vin was with him now, that he realized where he was and what Chris was trying to do – and that he was frightened by it.
Vin was afraid. Afraid for himself, yes, but even more for Chris and whoever held the other end of the ropes. He couldn’t think of a single part of his body that was working right, and he knew he’d be dead weight – no help at all. He and Chris and whoever tried to haul them up, could well end up on top of each other at the bottom of this pit.
"It’s gonna be all right, Vin. You just let us do all the work." At the look of doubt the tracker flashed him, Chris continued, "You trust us, don’t you? We’re just gonna get you off this piece of rock and back home where you belong. Understand?"
His answer was a nod so slight that anyone else would have missed it. The two men locked gazes for a long moment, both acknowledging a mutual trust, as well as the need to set things right, to get things said.
But Buck broke the spell when he called, "Chris? Is Vin secure?"
Reluctant to break contact with Vin, yet mindful of the burden he was placing on Josiah, he answered, "Yeah. We’re ready to go. How we gonna do this?"
"Me and JD will pull Vin on up first. You think you can get ‘im started?"
Chris sighed as he looked over at the injured man. "Time to go, Pard," he spoke softly, then added apologetically, "I reckon its gonna hurt some."
He thought he saw the briefest of smiles cross Vin’s face, before he reached down to pull him into a sitting position. The simple action elicited the first sound he’d heard from his friend, a low groan, as his trapped right arm was pulled from beneath him. Before he could further react, the ledge on which Tanner had rested finally gave way, the minimal movement just enough to cause the weakened structure to cave in. For a few terrifying moments, Vin fell, until the rope became taut, and he swung freely in the air.
Chris grabbed hold of Vin’s arm as he began to plummet, once again apologizing under his breath to Josiah, but the tracker still slid several feet down before Buck and JD gained control of the drop. Now both men swayed against the stone canyon, their friends clinging determinedly to their lifelines.
Vin tried to move his arms and hold onto the rope, but as it bit into his bruised chest, all of his energy was consumed in fighting for every breath. He couldn’t remember ever hurting so much, or working so hard just to stay alive, but to die now would be just plain stupid. He felt a lurch as someone, maybe Buck or Josiah, began pulling him up. Chris tried to keep his body from banging against the wall, but still a wave of new pains overlapped the old ones until blackness threatened again, and he realized he might not have a choice about the dying issue, after all.
Chris struggled to keep one hand on his rope and the other on Tanner, while using his legs to help push himself up the rough wall. Vin made one small, heartbreaking whimper, before succumbing to unconsciousness again. The blond knew he should be grateful that his best friend would miss the agony of being pulled up and over the edge, but it scared him. He wouldn’t rest easy until Nathan’s eyes said that Vin would be fine.
The three men controlling the ropes fought the initial panic that arose when the shelf gave way, and soon came to the conclusion that they needed to work together. Within minutes, they’d found their rhythm. Buck and JD would move Vin a few feet, then Josiah would move Chris. The preacher’s strong arms were shaking with the effort, but he knew he still had enough in him to finish the job.
Buck never ceased to be amazed at JD, and now was no exception. The kid was more than pulling his share of the weight, his face red with the exertion, but his eyes shining with determination – like Chester’s had when he came forward to help them. Buck was reminded again that the feeling of being needed was a powerful thing.
As they finally brought Vin up close to the edge and he got a good look at him, Buck decided Nathan ought to feel like the most powerful man on earth, because it was sure that Vin needed him bad.
++++++++
Nathan paced nervously around the area where he had made camp, his gaze flickering between the quietly sleeping Ezra and the entrance to the mine. Enough time had passed that he figured they must have found something. When he finally heard footsteps, he nearly leapt up the slope, his heart in his throat. Chris came out first, his weary features drawn and devoid of emotion. He waited with bated breath as Josiah came next, carrying Vin’s limp body in his arms. Josiah looked his friend in the eye, and Nathan clearly understood the message there. Tanner was alive, but not good, and they’d be looking to him to set things right once again.
Josiah thought his arms might break before he could release his burden. He’d insisted on carrying Vin, practically having to fight off Chris and Buck for the privilege. Larabee was just too spent, emotionally and physically, and he figured Buck could do better at keeping an eye on both the gunslinger and JD. Sanchez was exhausted, as well, the strain of the last few days making itself known, but he would have carried Vin a mile if he needed to.
Very gently the big man laid his friend on the ground. Vin’s head lolled to one side and his limbs splayed out loosely on the packed soil. He remained there so quiet and so still that Nathan wondered if he hadn’t mistaken Josiah’s message, if maybe the man was already dead after all. But as he crouched lower to the ground, he could make out the sound of labored breathing, and he knew he needed to work quickly.
Vin’s shirt was still open from that first night, the evidence of his abuse clear for all to see. No doubt the man was black and blue from head to toe. Nathan was right about the leg wound, too, but one look at Tanner’s face told the healer where the real urgency lie. Vin’s eyes were sunken, his lips bleeding, his skin sallow. If they didn’t get water into the tracker soon, his other wounds wouldn’t matter.
Chris saw it, too, and he lowered his head as he thought of how many hours Vin laid on that ledge, hurt with no water. Buck had tried to tell him that they should check out the cavern, but he’d argued with him. He remembered telling Buck that time wouldn’t matter if Vin were in that hole. But time mattered a whole hell of a lot when a man was bone dry and hurting.
He was startled when he heard Josiah’s soft voice in his ear, "Don’t do this, Chris. There’s plenty of time later to think on what went wrong. Vin needs you now."
Larabee nodded slowly then grabbed Sanchez by the arm as the big man turned away. "Thank you for what you did back there, Josiah."
The preacher grinned, "We all got our gifts. The Lord blessed me with the strength of an ox, and it wouldn’t do for me not to put it to good use – especially when it comes to helping a friend." Josiah paused a minute before adding, "He blessed you, too, Chris."
Chris looked at him skeptically as the preacher continued, "He blessed you with the stubbornness of a mule. Reckon our brother could use a little of that right now."
The tough gunslinger had to smile a bit at that. As he squatted next to his fallen partner, he knew exactly how to put his "blessing" to good use - he’d get water down Tanner one way or another.
Nathan had propped Vin up on a bed roll to ease the strain on his lungs, and was trying his best to dribble the precious liquid into slack lips.
"I’ll work on this, Nathan. You go ahead and tend to . . ." Chris paused as he looked at Tanner’s numerous injuries, "the rest of him."
After marveling that the blond actually got the unconscious tracker to swallow a few sips, Nathan proceeded to do as Chris had asked. It didn’t take long to determine that Vin’s arm was broken, as well as a few of his ribs. The leg wound wasn’t deep, but left untreated, infection had started to set in. He hoped that the breathing problems were due to bad air combined with pain from the ribs, and not something more serious. Chris seemed to take it all in stride, assisting Jackson however he could, without comment. Oddly enough, it was the raw marks on Tanner’s wrists that obviously bothered Larabee the most, and Nathan suspected there was a reason for that.
"You want t’ talk about it?" Nathan questioned the reclusive gunman.
Chris finally looked away from Vin and glanced around him. Buck and JD had spread out several feet from the camp and were fast asleep. Josiah had stayed up, offering to help, but by his soft snore, he’d obviously dozed off where he sat propped against a tree stump. Chris turned over Vin’s bandaged wrists in his hands, and looked over at Nathan.
"He hates being caged. I just can’t stand thinking about him being tied up like an animal – stuck in that hell hole. Why didn’t he just tell them he wasn’t me?"
Nathan smiled and said, "You know why."
He did know, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept.
Nathan reached across Vin to lay a hand on Chris’s arm. "They probably would have killed him anyway, you saw how they were."
Chris nodded, then added sadly, "Its just . . . its just that there’s things that need to be said." He paused and looked at Nathan, his soul lying wide open, "I have things to say."
Jackson, humbled by Larabee’s trust, offered him the hope he longed for, "Reckon you’ll get the chance." Having heard the earlier conversation with Josiah, he added, "Reckon you ain’t the only one been ‘blessed’ with bein’ stubborn."
Several hours later, in the deepest part of another dark night, Vin opened his eyes. Although Chris and Nathan lay lightly sleeping on either side of him, he was unaware of their presence. Seeing only the blackness, he panicked that he was again trapped alone in the dark cave.
Chris heard the change in breathing of the man next to him – heard Vin’s sharp gasp and the rapid panting that followed. He sat up quickly and pulled the lantern closer to where the sharpshooter lay. The light illuminated the sick man’s face, and Chris watched as Vin’s eyes darted in confusion.
"Take it easy, Vin," he whispered. "I’m right here. You’re all right."
Vin’s gaze slowly drifted across Larabee’s face, and tears of relief filled his eyes. As his breathing slowed, he began to cough, and Chris reached for the canteen. Vin had experienced enough in his short life to genuinely appreciate a good drink of water – but it had never meant so much or tasted so good as this one did. Chris smiled at the look of pure bliss that blanketed Vin’s face, and let him drink his fill – uncaring if it came back at him later.
Easing his friend back down on the bed roll, he noted that Tanner was shivering, in spite of the muggy air, and he reached over to pull the blanket up a bit higher. "Go on back to sleep. It will be morning soon," Chris said.
But Vin shook his head. "Ezra?" he asked, relieved that he’d finally been able to form a word.
"He’ll be fine, too. Probably make us all crazy first, but he’ll be back to his usual annoying self in no time."
Vin gave the gunfighter a half smile as he rasped, "You . . .like ‘im."
Chris raised an eyebrow in mock indignation, then grinned. "Yeah, well don’t ever let him know it. He’ll be more impossible to live with than he is now."
Vin wanted to laugh, but the agony from his injuries reasserted itself, and he heard himself groaning instead.
Chris grew serious and asked, "Do you want me to wake Nathan?"
Again Vin shook his head. "Kinda like . . .it bein’ . . . just you n’ me . . . fer awhile."
Larabee nodded, "All right then." He held Vin’s gaze, seeing more than just pain there. Vin had things needing to be said, too. Chris was about to get it all out in the open, when Tanner grimaced and reached out for the blond.
Nathan had feigned sleep as he allowed the men their time together, but when Vin’s soft moans persisted, he sprang up. As fired up as these two were to work out whatever was going on between them, it would have to wait.
Vin had a white-knuckled grip on Chris’s hand, and Nathan immediately reached for the laudanum. Tanner accepted the potion without complaint, although it was clear he regretted the lost opportunity to talk with Larabee. Within minutes, though, his mind grew foggy again, and he forgot what had been so important for him to tell the gunslinger.
Chris waited until Vin had dropped off into a restless sleep, then said worriedly, "He doesn’t look good, Nathan."
"Probably ‘cause he ain’t good," Nathan replied. Before he could offer some reassurance, he heard another weak voice.
"Who . . . isn’t good?" Ezra had awakened to soft voices, but had been unable to determine just what was going on. His shoulder hurt so much that he couldn’t find the words to express it, that in itself an alarming problem.
Chris moved over to the gambler’s side, feeling the need to spend a few moments with the man who had risked his neck for Vin. "How are you feeling, Ezra?"
Standish thought on that a minute. There was a word out there to describe this - it was just out of his reach. Well, how did he feel? Ah, yes, there it was – the word to clearly define his current physical condition. "Abominable," he stated.
Chris couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. Leave it to Ezra to use a five dollar word like "abominable" when he was lying half dead in the dirt. The others would have said something along the lines of "like shit", except for Vin, who would have said, "fine". Of course, he himself would have ignored the question altogether.
"Who isn’t good, Mr. Larabee?" the gambler repeated.
"Vin."
Ezra couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped him. If Chris and Nathan were discussing their tracker, than said tracker must be accounted for. While "not good" was truly not good, it was a far sight better than still being lost, or even worse, being dead. He didn’t think he could ever forgive himself if either one of those situations had come to play. Which reminded him, he intended to apologize for his mishandling of the previous events, but he was stopped before he could begin by the gunman.
"Can’t thank you enough for what you tried to do, Ezra. I know it didn’t work out the way we planned, but it wasn’t your fault."
"Yes, but I . . . the gunmen didn’t . . . and Vin wasn’t . . ." Ezra stammered before giving up with a sigh.
Chris smiled again. "Get some rest. We’re gonna try to get you and Vin back to town in the morning."
That had to be the most splendid idea he’d heard in some time. The gambler allowed Nathan and Chris to fuss over him a bit, since they seemed to have the strange notion that he deserved such attention, before giving in to his body’s need for rest. But before closing his eyes, he stole a glance at Vin. ‘Not good’ appeared to be an apt description of their friend, but Ezra felt his heart lift just knowing Tanner was back with them.
+++++++
JD took another swallow of his beer and pushed himself further down in his chair. Maybe if he made himself smaller, Chester wouldn’t see him. He just knew if he had to listen to the old guy say one more time how he’d kept the seven from becoming the six, he’d – well, he didn’t know what he’d do. But it wouldn’t be nice, that was sure. It was all Chester talked about since they’d ridden into town two days before. No one even mentioned to the geezer that he’d forgotten one enormous hole. JD wanted to tell him, but the others acted like that whole part of the story didn’t even happen, and he got the distinct impression that he’d be real sorry if he were the one to spill the beans to the old man.
Great, he was heading right for him. He wished Vin would get better quick so Chester could bother Chris for awhile. It didn’t look like that was going to happen anytime soon, though. The ride back to town had been rough on him. Then again, it had been rough on them all, with Ezra griping the whole way. JD had wanted so badly to tell the gambler to shut up already, but Chris had shot him such a glare, that he’d just pulled his horse further ahead so he wouldn’t have to hear it.
Since then, Standish had quieted right down. JD figured it was because he knew Vin needed Nathan’s attention. He’d tried to see Vin a few times, but Nathan had shooed him away, saying the tracker wasn’t good. JD wondered how bad "not good" was, but he didn’t ask.
Chester had arrived, and he called out good-naturedly to the youth, "Hey there, Kid. How y’ doin?"
JD sighed, rolled his eyes, and bit his tongue. Or at least he intended to bite his tongue, but instead he spit out, "Why does everyone in this town have to call me Kid?"
The old man chuckled. "Hell, Son, everyone in this town is a kid compared to me."
"Yeah, but you don’t call them all that. Bet you’d never call Chris Larabee a kid."
Chester looked thoughtful as he said, "Are you thinkin’ bein’ called Kid is a bad thing?"
"It’s not the calling I mind, it’s the treating," JD replied.
"Yep, I sure do understand that. I ever tell you about the men I worked with up in that mine?"
Here we go again, JD thought. Maybe if he ignored him, he’d go away.
"Best group of pards you could ever ask for. Reminds me of you and yer friends. I was the youngest, and they all called me ‘Kid’. They was always lookin’ out fer me. ‘Bout drove me crazy sometimes." Chester smiled wistfully before continuing. "They’s all gone now, of course. Sure do miss ‘em. Some days, I hear yer pards call you ‘Kid’, and I turn fer a minute. Some days, I’d give my life to be ‘Kid’ again."
Chester gave JD a pat on the back and turned to leave.
"Chester, wait," JD said. "Thank you for helping us out – we couldn’t have done it without you."
The old man’s toothless grin lit up his face as JD went on. "And I’m real proud to be a Kid - like you."
+++++++
Nathan was a patient man, but he swore if he had to watch Chris Larabee pace the confines of the small clinic one more time, he’d say something he was sure to regret. He knew how close the gunman and the tracker were, but it still surprised him that Chris spent so many hours of the last few days at Vin’s side. They’d both been hurt in the past, and practically ignored each other – a raised eyebrow, a nod, and off they’d go with their business. Of course, neither one could stand a lot of fussing over, preferring to crawl off and lick their wounds in private.
This time was different, though, in part because of the seriousness of the situation, and partly because the gunslinger was carrying a hefty load of guilt. Nathan hadn’t figured out what exactly was eating at Chris, but he hoped the man would get the chance to get it off his chest soon, before he wore a hole in the floor.
The healer rose from his chair with a deep sigh. Vin was getting restless again, and he’d need to get the laudanum ready. As nervous as Larabee made him with his constant fidgeting, Nathan had to admit he was glad he was here. While Vin’s breathing had gradually improved, he’d been fighting delirium and fever, and only Chris’s soft voice seemed to calm him.
Chris didn’t know how many nightmares he’d soothed Vin through. Sometimes, the younger man’s whimpers were almost child-like, and the blond felt certain his friend was reliving moments that had occurred long before the last few days. He might ask Vin about it, if he was ever with it long enough to have a conversation.
Chris groaned in frustration. Tanner just wasn’t snapping back the way he’d hoped. Nathan kept telling him to be patient, but he could tell that the healer was concerned, as well. Besides that, all the things he longed to talk with Vin about were weighing heavy on his heart. He sensed that Vin felt the same, and that his struggles to keep a clear head were wearing on him almost as much as the pain from his injuries.
Vin moaned softly as he fought to raise himself from the black hole once more. Lord, he just wanted to wake up and feel good and know where the hell he was. He seemed to be existing in an eternal state of darkness and confusion – trapped in cold, dark, airless places where people wanted only to hurt him. Then, just when he thought it was hopeless and he should give in, he’d hear Chris’s calm voice, reminding him that he was safe. He wanted to go to that voice, but just when he’d find it – find him – Nathan would pour more stuff down his throat, and he’d be lost again. How was he ever going to talk with Chris if he kept losing himself? Nathan needed to stop that. He’d tell him. He’d tell him now.
Vin slowly opened his eyes and noted that, sure enough, Nathan stood nearby preparing to doctor him up again. He rasped, "Don’t be . . . givin’ me nothin’ . . . Nathan."
Nathan raised his eyebrows from where he stood at the foot of Tanner’s bed. "Just tryin’ to keep you alive, Vin. And keep you from hurtin’ too bad."
"Yer keepin’ me . . . in that hole," Vin said, as though it made perfect sense.
Jackson threw a puzzled glance to Larabee, only to see by the look on his face, that it was very clear to him.
"You don’t have to take anything you don’t want, Pard," the gunslinger said tenderly.
This time Nathan raised an eyebrow at Chris. Vin was still sick and still hurting and he needed to rest and he wasn’t going to be able to do that without a little help.
The gunman understood the healer’s frustration, but he understood his friend’s even better. "He’ll be all right, Nathan. I’ll see to him."
Jackson remembered that both men had something burning in them they’d been wanting to say for days now. He figured he’d let them have their way – for now. They could have their little chat, but then he’d be back to talk some sense into them. "Reckon I’ll just go on and check on Ezra then," he mumbled. As he headed out the door, he added under his breath, "bein’ stubborn ain’t no blessin’ in my book."
"You with me now, Vin?" Chris asked, although he could see by his eyes that he was.
Vin nodded, then looked longingly at the water on the nearby stand. Chris poured him a cup, and put an arm under his shoulders to steady him while he drank. The fact that his friend was still so weak worried him, and he wondered if he’d done the right thing with Nathan.
Vin offered a feeble, "Thanks," as the blond lowered him back onto the pillow. Everything hurt, but he did his best to hide that fact for fear of Chris changing his mind and going after Nathan. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, relishing even the stale air of the clinic, and tried to clear his mind. He was ready to do some talking, but when he peered back up at his friend, he realized Chris intended to go first.
Chris looked down for a moment, then looked his best friend in the eye. "I don’t care that you can’t read, Vin."
"I know." Vin paused a minute before adding, "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you."
"I know."
As they held each other’s gaze, they realized they knew a whole lot of other things, too. They knew they that they understood each other better than anyone ever had in their lives. They knew that the trust and affection they felt for one another went way beyond friendship. They knew that they would always be there to watch each other’s back, and if necessary, to die for each other. They knew there was no need for guilt or regrets or apologies.
And they knew there was no need to talk, after all.
Nathan suddenly burst through the door, apologizing as he entered, "I’m sorry to interrupt y’all, but I forgot to get Ezra’s lineament and he’s fussin’ somethin’ fierce, you know how that is. I’ll just be a minute, and I’ll leave y’ alone."
Chris shrugged. "No hurry, Nathan. We said all we need to say."
Nathan looked at the two men incredulously. He’d only been gone a few minutes. He smiled as he shook his head. Vin had already drifted off to sleep, and Chris had propped his feet on the edge of the bed with a contented sigh. Nathan had the feeling that Vin would be on his feet again soon, and all would be well with the world - or at least, their little corner of it.
+++++++
Ezra could not believe what he was hearing. "What do you mean, you never even thought about it?"
Buck shrugged. "Just what I said. Never gave it a thought. How about you, JD?"
JD’s shrug matched Buck’s. "Me neither."
Good Lord, he was running with an entire band of Robin Hoods. Not one of them cared a miniscule about money. Of course, it was his money in question, but still, shouldn’t at least one of them have wondered where the five hundred dollars had gone? He’d approached Nathan first, since he’d been forced to spend a good deal of time with the man, thanks to his unfortunate injury. Jackson had looked irritated and stated he was too busy saving his life to worry about where he’d put the bills.
When Josiah came in to see him, he told him of his ingenious plan to lure the kidnappers over to where he’d hidden the ransom. He then asked if, perchance, the big man had considered where the ransom had gone, and did he have any knowledge of the money being retrieved? The preacher knew nothing about it, but was overtly interested in Ezra’s choice of hiding places. Before he knew it, the gambler was subjected to a dissertation on the Biblical importance of rocks.
Larabee had been far too busy with Vin to pay attention to such a "trivial" matter as the whereabouts of five hundred dollars. Besides, Ezra hadn’t been exactly anxious to share his plan with the gunman, since it didn’t go – as planned. No, he’d just let the matter ride, and as soon as he could manage it, he’d go recover his investment himself. Surely no one would come across it, surely it would still be there. He was still stewing on that thought when Chris and a pale, but reasonably upright, Vin approached the table where he sat with Buck and JD.
Vin limped and leaned considerably against the gunman, but the men made no mention of it, knowing the tracker would be uneasy with the added attention. Buck did reach over and pull out a chair, as Chris eased the injured man into it. Not unexpectedly, Nathan was close behind, and all could see that he was not entirely comfortable with Vin’s decision to leave the clinic. Josiah came in about then, and as he pulled up a chair, he grinned widely.
Chris asked him, "You look like the cat that swallowed the canary, Josiah. Something going on we don’t know about?"
Josiah shook his head. "Not at all. Just ain’t nothin’ better than being whole again," he said as he looked around the table, his gaze resting on Vin.
Vin smiled, thinking he couldn’t have said it better himself, then cleared his throat. "Want t’ thank y’all for what y’ did . . . ‘specially you, Ezra."
Ezra actually blushed and stammered, "No trouble . . . at all, Mr. Tanner. I assure you." He still hadn’t figured out how he’d managed to be the hero in all of this when he’d bungled his role so badly.
JD asked, "Chris, did you ever figure out who those guys were?"
Chris answered, "Vin filled me in on a few things. I killed their pa several years ago. He was a trigger-happy, hot head without a lick of sense."
"Obviously the fruit did not fall far from the tree," Ezra observed.
"Stupidity combined with greed often leads to disaster," Josiah added.
Chris had a twinkle in his eye as he said, "By the way, Ezra, been meaning to give you this." The gunman reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills.
Ezra’s eyes opened wide in surprise. "Why Mr. Larabee . . . Chris . . . how did you . . . when did you . . .?"
Larabee grinned, enjoying his new found ability to leave Standish speechless. He responded to the gambler in his usual pointed way. "Saw you putting something in those rocks. Figured out later what you were trying to do."
Ezra felt the emotion wash over him – Chris had trusted him. And thank God, he even got his money for him, although he might have offered that information sooner. No matter, the important thing was that his funds, as well as his associates, were all accounted for once again. "I thank you for your trouble, Mr. Larabee." Ezra offered sincerely.
Chris grinned again. Did Standish really think he would have just left it there? "Well damn, Ezra, leaving five hundred dollars laying under a rock would be kind of . . . stupid, don’t you think?"
Then he added softly, "And there ain’t no stupid men at this table."
Vin looked thoughtfully into the drink that Buck had slyly slid to him under Nathan’s disapproving eye. Knowing he had the respect and acceptance of these men meant more than they could ever know. Looking up to meet Chris’s gaze, he smiled. Chris knew exactly how much it meant to him. Whether or not he ever got the hang of making a proper ‘B’, he’d never be that dumb, little kid again.
The End
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