Shadow and Storm

Part 4

Storms continued to plague the area for several days, not with quite the force of that first one but still enough to disrupt life and keep folks with any sense at all inside. And this time, Vin was one of them. Whatever urge to run he’d had before was gone, that instinct overcome by the final realization that he was safe here, with Chris, as he could never be anywhere else.

Chris watched that skittishness, that edginess, ebb out of the tracker, replaced by the familiar ease and peace he’d so missed in the man, and felt his own worries fading as well. Vin would be fine. He could see it in the soft light that filled the blue eyes, chasing away the last of the shadows, could sense it in the quiet calm that again filled and flowed from the man’s soul. Vin had made it through the storm.

But the effects of Tanner’s mad dash into that storm lingered, and Chris passed the long hours they were confined inside by caring for his lover. His chores outside – tending Pony and fetching wood and water and meat from the small smokehouse – were done with all the haste he could manage during breaks in the weather. But tending Vin was something to be done slowly, carefully, to be lingered over and explored with all the thoroughness that was his hallmark. As Vin had once told him, some things were meant to be savored, and, to Chris, Tanner was just about all of them. He made it his life’s work to show the man once and for all exactly what it meant to be well and truly loved. And to make plain just what he’d be leaving behind if the hard-headed sonuvabitch ever got it into his mind to run again.

Chris Larabee could be a ruthless bastard when he tried, and God knew Vin Tanner could try him.

And Vin was tamed and gentled by that loving ruthlessness as he could never have been by any amount of force. Time and again, as Chris’s skilled hands moved slowly over his body in a liniment rub, long fingers biting deeply into and kneading the pain from his bruised muscles, or as he simply lay in Chris’s arms and rested his aching head against the man’s broad chest, wrapped in the safety of Larabee’s strong arms, he felt everything inside him recognizing this man as home, let go old habits of wariness and solitude and began fitting himself and his life into Larabee’s as he’d never imagined he could. Not just the hurts he’d suffered in the storm were eased, but older ones, deeper ones, those that had damaged far more than his body and whose scars went clear through to his soul, were finally healed and taken from him by the gunman and his love. Outside the storms might rage with a dark and dangerous fury, but inside, in Chris’s arms and even in darkest night, Vin knew only light and peace.

And somewhere, while wrapped in Chris’s arms, he stopped looking over his shoulder, stopped watching for the noose, finally stepped out of that goddamned shadow and into the sun.

He also slept as he hadn’t since before the bounty, deeply and dreamlessly, no longer startling awake at every unexpected noise or feeling the need to hold himself still after waking until he was certain of his surroundings and his safety. He knew it was only here that he could do this, knew it would change when he returned to town, but that was all right. For now he indulged himself in this forgotten luxury, catching up on the rest that for so long he simply hadn’t been able to afford to seek. Even his “catnaps” in the middle of the day stretched into hours, and though part of him was appalled at this new-found streak of laziness, the other part, the bigger part, reveled in it.

Besides, if he slept too long, he could usually count on Chris to find some wonderfully inventive way to wake him.

Now, though, as the mists of sleep again rolled back, it wasn’t the feel of the gunman’s mouth or hands upon him that pulled him toward wakefulness, but the sound of voices. He blinked sleepily and sat up slowly, dragged a hand through his hair and tried to get his bearings. A single shaft of sunlight slanted through the west-facing window to pierce the cabin’s gloom, its angle putting the time at late afternoon. He stared at the shaft for long moments, only gradually realizing that it was sunlight, pure and true, a sight so long missing now that he’d almost forgotten what it looked like.

Maybe the storms had finally run their course.

The low murmur of voices continued and he looked away from the window and to the door, seeing that it was half open. All at once he heard a loud, familiar laugh and smiled in immediate recognition. Buck. Hell, no wonder the sun was shining. It seemed to follow the big man around wherever he went.

Shaking his head as the laughter continued, he leaned forward and snagged his pants from the foot of the bed, slipping them on and pulling them up as he got to his feet. He grabbed his shirt and shrugged into it, tucked it into his trousers and pulled up his suspenders, grinning in appreciation of the restored ease and painlessness of his movements.

Damn, but Larabee knew what he was doin’!

He raked his fingers through his long hair and walked to the door, forgoing boots and gunbelt in his eagerness to see Buck and whoever else was with him. He suddenly realized how much he missed being with the boys, suddenly understood how foolish he’d been to seek escape from his troubles away from them. In their own way, they’d become as much a source of safety and shelter with their constant friendship as Chris had with his constant love.

He just wished it hadn’t taken all this for him to finally see that.

He pulled the door further open and stepped through it onto the porch, then stopped abruptly and sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes widening in surprise. Chris sat in one of the ladder-backed chairs, holding a cup of coffee and puffing on a cheroot, long legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. Buck stood beside him, long, lanky frame leaning indolently against one of the support posts, a broad, bright grin wreathing his face. Vin’s shock came from the other visitor. Judge Orin W. Travis occupied the second chair in an uncharacteristically relaxed slouch, right ankle resting on his left knee, a cup of coffee cradled in his right hand, a cigar smoldering in his left, a smile softening the deep lines carved into his stern face.

That smile widened and the amused twinkle in the piercing eyes grew brighter as Travis beheld the tracker’s outright astonishment. He knew it wasn’t often, if ever, that anyone caught Tanner by surprise, and he felt exceedingly pleased with himself at having succeeded where so few others had. Gave him a good feeling to know that, even at his age, he could still confound these men.

Suddenly realizing he was staring, Vin blinked rapidly a few times and shook his head, pulling himself forcibly out of his shock. Tearing his gaze from Travis, he shifted it to Chris and arched a brow, silently asking why the man hadn’t given him some warning. Larabee’s sly grin gave him all the answer he needed and his mouth pulled into a scowl. Goddamn uppity cowboy just never could resist the chance to watch him squirm! Then a low chortle sounded from the man standing next to Chris, and Vin shot Buck a filthy look.

But Buck only laughed again, unfazed by that glare. He knew Tanner could be as dangerous as Chris when pissed, maybe even more so, but it was hard to take the man seriously just now. He’d obviously shaved that morning, which alone took years from his appearance, and his long hair framed his face and fell about his shoulders in a wild disarray, the humidity in the air only adding to its disarming tendency to curl. Unkempt, unarmed, bare-headed, bare-footed and skinny as a rail, the deadly dangerous Vin Tanner looked like nothing so much as some kid caught napping by his elders.

Which Buck supposed wasn’t all that far from the truth, and he laughed again.

Vin glared harder at the big man. “Gonna choke on all that crowin’ one day,” he warned in a low growl, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

Chris cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his chair, trying not to feel the uncomfortable flash of warmth that soft, throaty drawl sent through him. The days spent tending Vin, touching Vin, without doing anything more had begun to wear on his self-control, and just now the mere thought of the man was enough to put a painful edge on his longing. He shifted in his chair again, certain that if Buck and Travis stayed much longer, he’d have some uncomfortable explaining to do.

And, goddamn it, Tanner wasn’t helping either, looking and sounding like he did!

From the corner of his eye, Buck saw Chris squirm and immediately guessed the reason. And while he would never really wish such suffering upon another man, still he couldn’t help smirking wickedly at the thought of his cool, unflappable friend beset by the demon of need. Just one more little reminder that Chris Larabee was human after all.

Travis frowned slightly as he watched his three regulators, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on between them. Tanner looked as if he were trying to decide whose scalp to lift first, Larabee was fidgeting as if he’d been set upon by ants, and Wilmington was grinning and chortling happily at some joke known only to him.

Seemed these men could still confound him as well.

He shook his head resignedly and turned his attention back to Tanner, studying the young man carefully. He, too, had seen the tracker’s wild race out of town that day, had noted his deepening turmoil during the days before, had been told by the others of his injuries from the fall from his horse. Nathan had assured him those injuries were more painful than serious, but, in truth, Travis had been more concerned for the man’s emotional state than his physical one. He knew exactly what had driven Tanner out of town, had found himself hoping it wouldn’t eventually drive the man farther away still. He was safe here with these men around him.

And with a certain judge doing what he could to make the State of Texas see reason.

“It’s good to see you looking so well, son,” he said at last, a slight smile touching his firm mouth. “I was worried you’d done serious injury to yourself.”

Vin blushed and ducked his head, touched by the true concern he heard in Travis’s voice and saw in his eyes. He admired the judge as he had few other men in his life, respected him as a man of honesty and deep integrity, and, as ever, was both startled and gratified to realize that such regard was mutual. “Aw, hell, sir,” he drawled, raising his head and giving a wry, crooked grin, “I reckon by now I’ve learned how t’ take a spill off Peso. Weren’t no more’n a few bumps an’ bruises.”

Chris looked up sharply at that and stared at him in exasperation, remembering only too well the enormous black patches that constituted “a few bumps and bruises.” Goddamned infuriating tracker could have a tree lodged in his chest and declare it only a splinter!

“Lucky thing he fell on his head,” Buck put in with a grin and a wink. “It’s his least vulnerable spot.”

Vin shot an evil, slit-eyed glare at the man, but Buck only snickered. “Gonna be laughin’ out of another hole when I git done with ya,” he warned.

Buck pushed away from the post and straightened, setting his hands on his hips and sweeping his gaze slowly, appraisingly, over the unarmed tracker. “Whatta ya gonna do t’ me, pard?” he asked innocently. “Ain’t got no weapons that I can see.”

“Could take yers an’ use it on ya,” Vin growled.

Buck’s eyes widened at that and a look of horror spread over his mobile features. “Now, Vin,” he said in a low, shocked voice, “that’s low, even fer you. Killin’ a man is one thing, but usin’ his own gun t’ do it–” He loosed a dramatic, stricken gasp. “Hell, son, that’s just humiliatin’!”

And, try as he might, Vin couldn’t keep his lips from twitching in a smile as Buck’s easy humor worked its familiar magic. He couldn’t understand how Chris had hardened his heart against the man for all those years, couldn’t understand how anyone could wilfully banish such warmth from his life. Hell, if it had been him, he would’ve fought tooth and nail to keep Buck at his side and been grateful every day for the gift.

Now, though, he cocked his head to one side and pulled his face into a puzzled frown. “Thought y’ had t’ have some shame ’fore ya could be humiliated?” he asked innocently.

Buck scowled deeply at the barb, but was inwardly delighted by the return of Tanner’s wicked humor. “I’ll have you know, you mouthy pup, that I got tons ’a shame–”

“He just keeps it locked up where nobody can see it,” Chris added drily. “Same with his modesty.”

Buck blinked at that, then drew himself up to his full height and threw out his chest, bestowing a beaming smile on them all. “Well, hell,” he boomed, “you boys take a look and tell me just what the hell I got t’ be modest about!”

Chris snorted loudly while Vin rolled his eyes and Travis choked on his cigar. “Damn,” the old man swore, coughing out a mouthful of smoke. “Air’s getting awfully thick around here!”

“Ain’t th’ air,” Vin countered tartly, arching a brow at Wilmington. “It’s that pile of horseshit buildin’ up around Bucklin. Man’s gonna start drawin’ flies any minute.”

Buck sighed sadly and shook his head, gazing sympathetically at the slim, disheveled figure before him. “Don’t worry, son,” he consoled, “some day when you get your full growth, you’ll know what I mean.”

“Nathan ain’t here, Buck,” Chris reminded the big man evenly. “And Vin’s been cooped up and lookin’ for somebody to fight for days. I ain’t sewin’ back on whatever he rips off.”

“Hell, I bet he’s ready ta fight after bein’ cooped up with you, ol’ pard,” Buck groused. “The two of you together are enough t’ make a grizzly slink off in fear.”

“Nice of you t’ come out all this way t’ insult us,” Vin grumbled. “Lemme guess, the others done run y’ off?”

“Actually,” Travis broke in, enjoying as always the sight of his deadly regulators bickering like children among themselves but deciding it was time to rein them in, “the visit was my idea.” He turned his gaze back to Vin. “I’ll be leaving on the morning stage tomorrow, and I just wanted to see for myself that you really are all right before I left.”

Vin gave him a small, grateful smile. “I ’preciate that, Judge,” he said softly, “but I’m all right. Like I told ya, that fall didn’t hurt me none–”

“I wasn’t talking about the fall,” Travis said quietly, fixing his direct gaze on Tanner. “I was talking about what caused the fall. What caused you to run into that storm in the first place.”

Vin inhaled sharply and stiffened, eyes widening as he went very still inside. “I don’t know … what yer talkin’ about,” he breathed at last, suddenly feeling the urge to run again.

Travis studied him a moment, then arched one graying brow. “Yes,” he said gently, “you do.” Without ever looking away from Vin, he held out his cup and said, “Chris, I could use more coffee before I leave.”

Chris nodded and rose smoothly to his feet, reaching out to take the cup from Travis while giving Vin a quick, reassuring smile. In silence, the gunman turned and walked to the door, with Buck a step behind him.

“Think I’ll go see if I can scrounge up a bottle somewhere,” Wilmington said to no one in particular. “We’ll need somethin’ t’ take the edge off that ride back home.”

Vin turned and shot a panicked look at their backs, then turned it back to Travis, his mouth gone dry and his stomach starting a slow churn. The urge to run was almost overpowering now, except for the fact that his feet seemed mortared in place. Travis’s unflinching gaze was still riveted to him, pinning him where he stood.

Oh, Lord …

“It’s all right, Vin,” the judge said gently, feeling a twinge of sorrow at the wildness in the younger man’s blue eyes. He wasn’t used to seeing the tough and seemingly fearless tracker so openly afraid, and the knowledge that he was the cause of that fear bothered him more than he could say. “Believe me, son, if I were any threat to you, those two,” he gestured with a hand toward the door through which Chris and Buck had gone, “would never have left. And,” he smiled wryly, “I’d probably never leave here, either.”

“What–” Vin’s voice broke into a breathless whisper and he licked his lips, then tried again. “Whatta ya want?”

Travis winced and shook his head slightly. “Nothing that will bring you any harm, I promise,” he answered. “I meant it when I said I just wanted to make sure that you’re all right. I know what the trial and hanging did to you and why.” Sorrow darkened his eyes and deepened the lines in his face. “I hired you to do a job, Vin, but not at the cost of your soul. Next time – and we both know there will be a next time – come talk to me. Surely we can find a solution that doesn’t involve you getting hurt.”

Vin gaped at Travis and swayed dazedly on his feet as the man’s words spun past him in a whirl. Of the dizzying stream, the only ones he heard were, “I know … why,” and they alone were almost enough to make him sick.

“How … how long?” he finally managed to choke out, absently raising a shaking hand to his throat.

Travis saw that gesture, saw the stark terror in the unblinking blue eyes, and suddenly felt as protective toward this young man as he would toward his own son. Both, he realized, were victims of the violence plaguing this country, Steven already in his grave, Vin facing his on an almost daily basis. And both were deeply good men for all their faults, neither deserving of the fate dealt him.

“How long have I known about that business in Texas?” He rose to his feet and tossed the remains of his cigar out into the yard, then moved slowly toward Vin, careful to do nothing that would cause the younger man to bolt. “I could say ever since Mary wired me and asked for my help when that man Yates showed up and claimed to be a federal marshal. But,” he shook his head slightly, “that wouldn’t be exactly true. That was the first time anyone brought it directly to my attention.”

“Then h … how’d ya find out?” Vin rasped, staring fixedly, almost feverishly, at Travis and clenching his hands tightly into fists at his sides.

The old man studied him for long moments, as if measuring him, then smiled wryly. “I have quite a few towns in my circuit, and sometimes I see things in them that never seem to show up here. And you have a remarkably accurate wanted poster.”

Vin blanched at that and stumbled to the chair Chris had left, dropping into it as his knees buckled beneath him. He stared blindly ahead, almost able to feel the noose tightening even now. “Ya g … gonna send me … back t’ Texas?” he whispered hoarsely.

Travis watched the young man in sympathy, then went slowly to him and set a gnarled but still strong hand on one bowed shoulder. “If I had intended to send you back to Texas,” he said gently, “I would have done it long before now. You know me, Vin, and you know I’m not a man to put things off.”

Vin swallowed hard and raised his head with an effort, lifting an uncertain and wary gaze to Travis. “But ain’t you got a duty t’ uphold the law?”

Travis pursed his lips and considered the question, one he’d asked himself many times over the long course of his career. “I do,” he said slowly, thoughtfully. “But I also have a duty to justice, and sometimes the two aren’t exactly the same. And I cannot for the life of me see how sending you back to Texas to hang, while certainly the lawful thing to do, could possibly be just.”

Vin stared at Travis and shook his head in confusion. “But … the law says I’m a murderer–”

“The law says many things, and not all of them are always true,” Travis sighed. “Laws are made and carried out by men, and Lord knows we don’t always get everything right. You’re one of those things the law got wrong.”

Vin blinked in astonishment, his mouth again falling open. Wrong? He closed his mouth, blinked again and tried to speak, but couldn’t find the words. Surely the judge couldn’t mean …

Travis set his free hand to Vin’s other shoulder and gripped both strongly as he continued to gaze directly into those shocked, disbelieving eyes. “You know me, Vin,” he said firmly, determined to make the young man understand, “you know what kind of man I am, what I believe. I’ve known you were wanted for quite a while now, and I’ve made it my business to learn as much about that unfortunate situation as I can.” He lifted two brows slightly. “Do you for one minute believe you’d still be here if I thought you were guilty? You’ve killed, yes; hell, I’ve seen you do it. But you’re no more a murderer than I am, and I will not send a man to hang for something I know he didn’t do.”

Vin’s head swam for a moment as he tried to understand exactly what Travis was saying. It was one thing for the boys to know all this and profess belief in his innocence; but for this man, a judge, to do it–

He shook his head to clear it, frowned and then pushed himself to his feet, stepping to within inches of Travis and snaring the man’s gaze with his own. “I’m wanted in Texas fer murder,” he said in a low, hard voice, needing to be certain that Travis understood. “Don’t that mean anything t’ you?”

Travis lifted his chin and returned that fierce gaze easily. “Yes, it does,” he answered quietly. “It means that we need to get on with the business of clearing your name. And it means that, until we do,” he permitted himself a grim smile, “Texas will have to go through me and six other men to get you.”

Vin stood with Chris on the porch and watched as Buck and Judge Travis rode into the distance. Even after the two disappeared over the rise he continued to stare after them, a small, thoughtful frown on his face.

Chris glanced aside at the tracker and noted his expression, could almost see his mind working behind the slightly narrowed blue eyes. Vin had been quiet, even for him, ever since his talk with Travis, and more than once Larabee had caught him staring at the judge as if trying to puzzle out an impossible trail. Chris had a fair idea of what the two had discussed and could understand what had Vin so confused. Had to be a helluva shock finding out that he had a man like Orin Travis watching his back as well.

“Well,” he said quietly, regarding the tracker through knowing eyes, “you gonna spit it out any time soon or just chew on it ’til you choke?”

Vin continued to stare out into the distance for a few moments longer, as if not hearing him, then loosed a softly gusting sigh and turned his gaze to meet Larabee’s, blue eyes dark with confusion. “Seen a feller once,” he drawled slowly, “in one ’a them travelin’ shows. Part ’a his act was that he stood up on stage an’ went on an’ on about somethin’ ’til somebody come along an’ pulled the rug out from under his feet, sendin’ him to his ass.” He frowned more deeply still and tipped his head to one side. “Y’ ever feel like that?”

Chris chuckled softly and nodded faintly. “A time or two.” He grinned and winked. “Usually it’s a slow-talkin’, scrawny-assed, long-haired Texan that’s doin’ the pullin’.”

But Vin didn’t rise to the teasing. “He knows,” he said soberly, the strangeness of it still almost more than he could take in. “He’s known fer a while. An’ he believes I’m innocent.”

Chris shrugged easily. “He’s a good judge of men. Has to be in his work, I guess.”

Vin continued to stare at Chris, frowning and chewing his lower lip, still trying to puzzle his way over that trail. Then all at once the confusion left his eyes, replaced by sudden understanding, and he shook his head, smiling wryly. “Hell, I’m a goddamn fool,” he chuckled.

Larabee lifted two brows in surprise. “Any one reason in particular, or are you just takin’ stock?”

Vin huffed out a breath and scowled at him. “Uppity sonuvabitch, ain’tcha?” he groused. “Cain’t imagine why I ever took up with you.”

“Because you thought I didn’t have nearly enough trouble in my life?” Chris suggested drily.

“Well it sure as hell weren’t fer yer charmin’ nature,” he scoffed, slipping his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and shifting into his familiar hipshot stance. “Hell,” he swept a disdainful gaze over the gunman, “Peso on a bad day’s got more charm than you.”

Chris narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips into a thin, tight line, a look that would have had most men hunting cover but only won a cocky smirk from the maddening tracker. “All right,” he growled, setting his hands on his lean hips, “before I shoot ya, tell me why you’re a goddamned fool. I wanta see if it matches any of the reasons already on my list.”

But Vin didn’t snap back this time. Instead, he simply stood there for long moments, studying the man before him and seeing in him both all the menace for which he was known and all the tenderness he kept hidden. Despite what he’d said, he knew full well why he’d taken up with Chris, knew that in a life marked by wrong choices and bad decisions, this had been one of the best, one of the most truly right, he’d ever made.

“I never shoulda run,” he said quietly, firmly, his gaze still intent on Larabee. “Got so caught up in starin’ at that goddamn noose that I lost sight of ever’thing else. Got so caught up in thinkin’ on ever’thing I’d lost that I let m’self ferget what I had.”

“And what’s that?” Chris asked softly, letting his teasing manner go as well. He found himself moving closer to Vin, drawn by something in the deep blue eyes fixed so steadily upon him.

Vin watched Larabee coming slowly toward him and smiled slightly, his stance still relaxed, any former urge to run from this man now gone forever. “Got folks willin’ ta stand with me,” he drawled softly, “folks willin’ ta help me stand when I cain’t do it m’self, t’ look out fer me when I cain’t do it m’self. Folks who believe I’m worth lookin’ out fer. Most of all,” he breathed, straightening as Chris stopped just before him, close enough for him to feel the heat from the man’s body against his own, “I got you.” He lifted a hand and laid it against Larabee’s heart, feeling its strong beating against his fingers, and knowing that beating, that heart, was bound up now and forever in his own. “Damn noose is jist a shadow,” he rasped, losing himself in the clear green eyes looking upon him with such love. “But you … Like you said, you’re what’s real. Let m’self fergit that fer a while. But I promise ya, Chris, I ain’t ever gonna fergit it again.”

“I know,” Chris said, a small, soft smile touching his lips. He reached out and slipped an arm around Vin, pulling the man closer to him and tipping his own mouth down to meet the tracker’s. “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life makin’ sure you remember.”

Vin shivered and leaned into the kiss, twining his arms around Chris and pressing against him, needing to feel this man in every part of himself. “Lord, cowboy,” he whispered unsteadily as Larabee nibbled at one corner of his mouth, then licked and kissed a wet path down to his chin and along his jawline to his ear, and finally started down his throat. “You keep this up an’ I’ll be lucky t’ remember my own name.”

Chris gave a low chuckle, his breath fanning warmly over Tanner’s flesh and wringing another shiver from the man. “That a problem?” he asked huskily, teasing Vin’s throat with his lips while he tugged the tracker’s shirts out of his pants and slipped his hands beneath them, skimming callused fingertips slowly over the man’s back and sides.

“Oh, h– hell no!” Vin gasped as lightning danced along his every nerve and fire ignited beneath his skin. “But I do gotta warn ya … that if y’ take m’ clothes off … an’ then tell me ‘no’ again … I’m gonna have t’ kill ya.”

Chris nipped sharply at the tender flesh over the pulse throbbing in the tracker’s throat, then laved his tongue against the bite. “Who says I’m gonna take your clothes off?” he purred.

Vin exhaled unsteadily and let his head fall back, but dug long, strong fingers into the small of Chris’s back and thrust a leg between the gunman’s two. “Jist seems like … somethin’ y’ might … be interested in doin’,” he rasped breathlessly, driving his crotch into Larabee’s.

Heat shot through Chris’s cock at that contact and tore a sharp breath from him. He slid his hands, still under the tracker’s shirts, around to the man’s chest and up to his pectorals, finding and rubbing his thumbs over the small nipples. “I don’t know,” he said hoarsely, dragging his mouth back up Tanner’s throat, showering the long column with kisses and bites. “Haven’t really given it … much thought at all.”

“Irritatin’ goddamn sonuvabitch!” Vin snarled, grabbing Larabee’s tight ass and grinding his own throbbing cock into the gunman’s. “Jist take me inside an’ fuck me whilst y’ make up yer goddamn mind!”

They managed to make it through the doorway and into the cabin without falling even though they never drew farther apart than the space it took to catch a quick breath before diving into each other once again. Wet mouths met and locked in hard, deep, demanding kisses while hands more eager than careful worked desperately to strip away whatever piece of clothing impeded their frantic caresses. Hunger raged within and between them with all the force and fury of the storms that had so recently swept the land, each man craving the other with the fullness of his body and soul.

Thick groans, wordless growls and harsh gasps filled the cabin as they stripped each other, claimed and explored each other, drove each other into the mounting frenzy of arousal. At last they fell upon the bed, long limbs entwined and naked bodies surging together, each man wrapping himself around and seeking to lose himself in the other, the two determined to be one in every way that mattered. Chris draped himself over Vin and Vin clamped his legs hard about Chris’s, Larabee’s mouth again seizing upon his and plumbing its depths with a ruthless mastery. Vin arched himself against Chris and raked his hands down the man’s long back, delighting in the power of hard muscles rippling and flexing beneath smooth silken skin.

“C’mon, cowboy,” he snarled into Chris’s mouth, driving his hard and hurting cock into Larabee’s and shuddering as he felt the man’s thick, stiff flesh raking against his own. “Need ya somethin’ fierce!”

“Jesus, Vin!” Chris gasped, tearing his mouth from Tanner’s and burying his face in the tangled wealth of the tracker’s hair, trying to regain some measure of control. But his soul burned for this man and his body throbbed from the force of the hunger pounding through it. No one had ever unleashed this wildness in him, not even Sarah. Tanner alone had the power to completely shatter his senses and reduce him to his most basic, primal self. “You’re gonna be the death of me yet!”

“Gonna be the death of us both if ya don’t do somethin’ soon!” Vin spat back, eyes gone almost black, his flesh darkly flushed and bathed in sweat. “I swear t’ God, Larabee, y’ pick the goddamnedest times t’ git slow!”

Chris gave a low, throaty chuckle and nuzzled through the sweat-sodden hair plastered to the tracker’s neck, finally finding the tender, sensitive flesh at the hollow just beneath his ear and tonguing it until he had Vin panting and moaning wordlessly. “Guess that’s one way ta shut you up,” he growled. He slid his hands along Vin’s arms to his hands and threaded his fingers through Tanner’s, imprisoning those hands against the bed at either side of the tracker’s head. “Need ta learn ta be patient.” He pressed slow, wet kisses to Vin’s ear, along his jaw, against his cheekbones and eyelids, then slid his tongue down the straight line of the man’s nose before planting another kiss to its tip. “Take time for what’s important.”

Vin lay absolutely still beneath Chris, eyes closed, his body tight, his every nerve stretched almost to the breaking. Every inch of him ached and burned, and it was the sweetest pain he could imagine.

“You do know you’re important, right?” Chris asked softly, raising his head and gazing raptly down at Vin.

“Reckon … so,” Vin panted.

“You don’t sound real sure,” he whispered, bowing his head to reclaim Vin’s lips with his. “Guess I’ll have t’ convince you.”

Vin gave a slow, shaky exhale as Chris’s kiss, warm and deep and achingly tender, seemed to sink straight through to his soul. Light and heat swept through him in rich, strong waves, filling him and washing him clean as this man alone could do. He groaned softly and arched himself against Larabee, offering himself body and soul to the one man in all the world he trusted with both..

“Please, cowboy,” he whispered into Larabee’s mouth, “I need ya t’ love me!”

And Chris proceeded to do just that, launching a slow and shattering assault upon the tracker’s senses. He licked and nibbled at Vin’s lips, thrust his tongue between them and plundered the wet depths of the younger man’s mouth, showered a series of kisses along his jaw and down his throat, sucked at the pulse throbbing wildly there. His hands were every bit as busy, kneading Vin’s sinewy shoulders, rolling the small peaks of his nipples to hardness, stroking down Tanner’s sides and over his taut, flat belly, wringing sharp gasps and breathless moans from him. He closed his mouth about one dusky nipple and sucked hungrily, wound his long fingers about Tanner’s hard, thick cock and pumped slowly.

Vin cried out harshly and drove his head back into his pillow, closing his eyes tightly and digging his fingers into the hard muscles of Larabee’s back as he thrust into the gunman’s hand. Fire raced along his every nerve, churned in his blood and throbbed in his cock, threatened to char his flesh from his bones. He clutched at Chris and thrashed beneath him, against him, in a mindless frenzy, his overwrought body all but convulsed by the pounding force of his need.

“God … Chrisss!” he hissed in pain and pleading.

Chris tore his mouth from Vin’s nipple at that and lifted his head, staring at his lover through heat-glazed eyes and suddenly recognizing just how close to the edge Tanner was. How close they both were. His own cock throbbed hideously, his own hunger raged for release. The feel of Vin’s body against him, the sight of the man’s naked beauty beneath him, was an endless source of both torment and delight, his need for the man the one weakness he prayed he never overcame.

Would rather die than overcome.

With a low, hoarse growl he rolled off Vin and pushed himself to his knees, ignoring the tracker’s wordless cry of abandonment. He reached across to the small bedside table and yanked open the drawer, rifling through it for the salve he knew had to be in there. Hell, he needed to build a goddamned shelf above the bed and keep it stocked so there’d always be something within reach. Then again, shit, he probably needed to build a shelf like that all around the goddamned cabin! And probably out in the barn as well …

Bereft of Chris’s presence, Vin moaned and writhed upon the bed, arching his back and rolling his hips as his need grew ever more demanding. But he forced himself to ignore that need, thrusting his hands behind his head and burying them under his pillow to keep from reaching for his hard and aching cock himself. He’d had enough of his own hand to last him a lifetime and would wait for Chris now if it killed him.

But, Lord, the man didn’t make waiting easy! Unable to help himself, he turned his gaze to Chris and watched as the man leaned over to the bedside table and rifled frantically through its drawers. Goddamn, but he was beautiful! Fair hair gleamed like spun gold even in this subdued light, powerful muscles rippled beneath smooth, ivory flesh, and the long, lean body moved with all the grace and coiled strength of a big cat on the prowl. Vin let his eyes roam slowly over wide shoulders, down the broad chest and over the flat belly to the trim hips, absently licking his lips at the sight of the thick, flushed cock jutting proudly from its full nest of crisp golden curls. A hard shudder raced through him as he imagined the feel of Larabee’s flesh planted deep within him, and his own cock twitched and throbbed in anticipation.

Jesus!

Chris was in little better shape himself, his own need urgently demanding release. Finally finding the tin he sought, he yanked it out of the drawer and returned to Vin, flesh bathed in sweat and chest heaving as he panted, his cock weeping hungrily. “I’m here, partner,” he rasped, settling himself between Tanner’s legs and wrenching the lid off the tin. “I’m gonna make it better for us both.”

“Need … need ya,” Vin gasped, wrenching open his eyes to stare up at the man who was all he knew of salvation. A hard tremor ran through him as the mere promise of what was to come fueled the fire raging in him. “Don’t think … I c’n hold out much longer!”

“Won’t have to, I promise.” Chris dipped a hand into the fragrant salve and scooped out a generous portion. “Gonna take care of ya,” he breathed, his eyes never leaving Vin’s. “Now and always.”

“Sounds good t’ me,” Vin rasped, blue-black gaze intent on Larabee’s face. “’Specially that ‘always’ part.”

Chris tossed the tin aside and began slicking himself, gasping sharply and shuddering hard as his own touch drove hot shards of pain into his aching flesh. Before him, Vin flexed strong thighs and lifted his narrow hips off the bed, dragging Chris’s pillow under them, then bent his legs and spread them, opening himself up to Larabee. Still coating his cock with the salve, Chris stared down at him in ardent fascination.

Goddamn, but Vin was beautiful!

The tracker’s long hair spilled about his face and over his pillow in a wild wealth, gleaming brown, red and honey-gold even in the subdued light of the cabin. Sweat glistened over his darkly flushed flesh, and the eyes that stared up at Larabee were heavy-lidded and glazed with desire. The tip of a pink tongue glided slowly over full, wet lips and one long-fingered hand slid slowly to his own cock, wrapping around and stroking the thick shaft of flesh in blatant provocation.

“Ride me, cowboy,” he urged in his low, smoky rasp. “Show me how good that ‘always’ is gonna be.”

Chris growled low in his throat and pounced upon the tracker, snatching Tanner’s hand away from himself and shoving it back against the bed above his head, and bent low over Vin. Another wordless snarl escaped him and he claimed Vin’s lips in a hard, demanding kiss, burying his mouth in the younger man’s and plundering it hungrily. As their tongues stroked and twined in an intimate dance, Chris slid a hand down Vin’s body and slipped it between the tracker’s legs to his balls, cupping and kneading the heavy sacs between his fingers and feeling them grow fuller still. Vin cried out thickly and arched against him, driving their cocks together, and Chris damn near came on the spot.

Jesus, the man was a fever in his blood!

He tore his mouth from Tanner’s and dragged it down the tracker’s throat, licking and kissing a wet path over the man’s flesh. As he did, he released Vin’s balls and trailed his hand to the opening behind them, slowly rimming the puckered hole. His mouth found the junction of Tanner’s neck and shoulder and he bit sharply into it, driving a finger into the tracker’s ass at the same moment.

Vin howled and arched against the powerful body covering his, reason shattered by the gunman’s merciless assault. Then another finger followed the first, the two pressing deep into him, working him, stretching him, and he thrust frantically down against them, hot tears sliding from the corners of his eyes. “Jesus … cowboy … fuck me!” he begged somewhere between a scream and a sob.

Chris felt the tight ring of muscle give then and withdrew his fingers, replacing them with the blunt tip of his cock. Trembling hard, racked by the pain that this man alone could ease, he gripped Vin’s hips to steady and still him and slid into his lover’s body, sheathing himself at last in that hot, tight channel.

Pain flared and wrung a strangled cry from Vin, but it was fleeting and quickly replaced by the familiar but no less wondrous feel of Chris’s heat and hardness filling him. His cry gave way to a sharp gasp of pleasure, then to a desperately snarled plea.

“Goddamn it … move!”

And Chris did, thrusting into Vin with long, sure strokes, burying himself to his balls in his lover’s ass and then pulling back, driving in and out with a gathering force and speed, his whole existence now defined by the feel of Tanner’s wet heat wrapping around him and pulling him ever deeper into Vin. Despite all the times and all the ways they’d done this, it never grew old and he knew it never would, knew he would never tire of the fierce storm of sensations this man unleashed in him. He could spend the rest of his life lost in Vin and consider it a life well spent.

The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the cabin as the two moved together in an increasingly frantic rhythm, each seeking completion and release in the other. Chris drove harder, deeper into Vin with every stroke and Vin rose eagerly to meet each thrust, needing to feel this man in every part of himself. Harsh, wordless cries tore from them as, locked together in body and soul, they gave full, free rein to passion.

Vin wrapped his legs around Chris, pulling himself up to drive Larabee deeper still into him, impaling himself on the man. Chris released Vin’s hips and pressed one hand to the bed, bracing himself upon it, and wrapped the other around the tracker’s cock, pumping in time to his fierce thrusts into the younger man’s body. Vin cried out and arched again, then reached behind his head and grabbed the bars of the bedstead. Clinging tightly to them, legs still wrapped around Chris, his body was stretched taut as he thrust alternately down onto the cock driving into his ass and into the hand working at his shaft. Then Chris shifted slightly beneath him, altered his angle slightly inside him, and all at once the man’s dick was raking against his prostate with every stroke. Again and again Chris hit him there, and suddenly it was too much, the power and pleasure of it more than he could bear. He bucked wildly, loosed a sharp, savage cry and erupted, shooting thick ropes of cum over his lover’s hand.

The pungent scent of Vin’s release and the feel of the man’s ass clenching tightly around him combined to fling Chris over the precipice. The tide rose high and hot, tingling in his thighs and boiling at the base of his spine, then slammed through him with a pitiless force. Light exploded behind his eyes and he threw back his sodden head as the burning wave broke over him, driving furiously into Vin and pouring himself into his lover’s body.

Vin released the bars and sank down against the bed, weak, spent and shaking. And more at peace than he’d ever thought he could be again. He sighed softly and closed his eyes, his lips curving into a smile of drowsy contentment.

Chris saw that smile and felt one very much like it tugging at his own lips. Easing himself carefully out of Vin’s body, he lowered himself onto the bed at Tanner’s side, then reached out with rubbery arms to pull the tracker close against him. “So,” he breathed, burying his face in Vin’s sweat-damp hair, “how’s that ‘always’ lookin’ to ya now?”

Vin laid an arm over the one Chris had laid across his belly and turned his head toward the gunman, studying Larabee intently. The man’s face was relaxed and, for this little while, free of the lines that time and troubles had etched into it, the green eyes deep and dark beneath their heavy lids. Yet even so there was such strength to him, such power, that Vin could feel it in the very air around him, even with the man himself in repose. Maybe he’d never had this before, but he knew with absolute conviction that he’d never again be without it.

“Looks purty good from where I’m layin’,” he finally whispered. He reached up and gently brushed a lock of blond hair out of Chris’s eyes, absently rubbing the silken strands between his fingers. “Looks like somethin’ worth stickin’ around fer.”

Chris arched a brow, then pulled his arm out from under Vin and raised up, propping himself up on his elbow. “No more runnin’ away from shadows and into storms?”

Vin winced and shook his head. “Hell, I reckon I’m gonna get hit by enough storms as it is without me chasin’ any more down. As fer shadows–” He gave a half-hearted smile. “Like I said, I ain’t ever been a coward before, cain’t see startin’ now.” His smile twisted into a grimace. “Reckon that’d jist be lettin’ ol’ Eli Joe win, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Chris said. “And that bastard don’t deserve t’ win. Especially not against you.”

Vin nodded slightly, then looked again at Chris. “Only it ain’t jist me anymore, is it? Ain’t been jist me fer a while now.”

Chris snorted sharply. “I was beginnin’ ta wonder when you’d catch on to that!” He chuckled softly and leaned down, brushing his lips against Tanner’s forehead. “Not the quickest on the draw, are ya, partner?”

Vin scowled and pushed him away. “Asshole,” he grumbled. “Hell, ain’t nothin’ worse’n a goddamn uppity gunfighter who thinks he’s cock ’a the walk–”

“Unless it’s a goddamn ornery tracker who hasn’t got the sense to come in outta the rain,” Chris retorted, arching a brow. “You know, I coulda just stayed back in town and not come lookin’ for ya. Lucky for you I didn’t have anything better to do.”

“Think yer so goddamn smart–”

“Fell for you, didn’t I?” Chris returned softly, all teasing gone abruptly from him. He smiled slightly, gently, and again reached out, brushing the damp hair back from Vin’s face. “I meant what I said, Vin. I’m always gonna take care of you. There’s nothin’ in my life more important than that. There’s nothin’ more important than you.”

Vin swallowed hard and stared at Chris through wide eyes, still not quite certain how he’d managed to win the love of such a man, but desperately grateful that he had. “I’ll try t’ remember that,” he promised, reaching up to curl his fingers around Larabee’s wrist. “Might take some doin’, though.” He gave a small, wry smile. “I ain’t exactly used t’ havin’ such. Might need a reminder now an’ then.”

Chris leaned in and kissed him gently. “I can do that,” he breathed. He lay back down, then slipped a strong arm about the younger man and pulled him close again. “It’s what I’m here for. Ain’t no shadow dark enough to keep me away from you.”

“An’ storms?” Vin whispered, relaxing into that warm embrace.

“We’re always gonna have storms,” Chris said, gently cradling Vin’s head to his shoulder and resting a cheek against it. “Thing is, though, we’ll stand a lot better chance of makin’ it through ’em if we ride ’em out together.

Vin smiled and reached for Chris’s hand, lacing his fingers through the gunman’s. “Well,” he breathed, closing his eyes, “sounds like a plan ta me.”

THE END