"You're pure mean, Larabee," the muleskinner growled. "My boy
was only having some fun with his friends. He didn't deserve that."
"Sixteen years old ain't no boy to me," Chris replied low.
"Your son was old enough to break the law, mister, so he's old enough to
face the consequences," Chris said with finality, settling further back
into his chair on the jail boardwalk. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see
the muleskinner and his two surly looking friends, but kept his gaze on the
swirling dust devils moving lazily down the street.
"Seems to me your boy needed that lesson," Josiah said as he came
to stand in the jail doorway. "He learned it. No harm done."
"No harm!" the muleskinner spluttered. "He humiliated my boy
in front of his friends. He forced him to--" the man broke off as Chris
stood up to meet his gaze.
"Your boy's lucky no one got hurt," Chris said, deadly soft.
"That's the end of it."
The muleskinner blinked and worked his jaw but then backed off without
another word. As the cowed man and his friends grumbled their way back up the
street, Chris settled down in his chair once more.
"You know, Chris," Josiah sighed, "as much as I agree with a
hard lesson when justified, what you did to that boy was pretty damn mean."
"He'll get over it," Chris said to the swirling devils and Josiah
went back inside with a grunt.
"Larabee, Larabee, wherefore art thou, Larabee?" Ezra grinned as he
walked up the street to the foot of the boardwalk steps, looking perfectly
turned out in his scarlet coat and gambler's trappings. Ignoring Chris' warning
scowl, he went on brightly, "You certainly are the talk of the town this
morning, my fine, fearless, felon-seeking friend. Why, I doubt that young
muleskinner will ever be able to look his catapult, or indeed his friends, in
the eye again."
Paying no heed to Ezra's baiting, Chris turned his attention to the stray dog
skulking along the boardwalk towards him. As strays went, it was an unremarkable
one of medium size with long, skinny legs and a matted grey coat. He usually
spared it some time because it reminded him of Reb, Adam's first dog, but, on
the whole, it was a mangy, bad-tempered animal.
Typically, Ezra went on without missing a beat. The man needed no audience
other than himself. "While we all realise that public safety was at the
heart of your decisive if rather surprising solution to the hazard this young
man posed, I have found that the general consensus in our happy hamlet is that
forcing the boy to ingest his own ammunition was a tad...how did they so
colourfully put it? Oh yes, 'gila monster skinning, rattler eating mean'."
"Those ball bearings could have been as lethal as a bullet and they know
it," Chris said evenly.
"Ah, an excellent point, and one I made in your favour before Mister
Wilmington informed the gathered assembly that any wayward shootists best watch
out in case you decided to make a habit of force-feeding men their
ammunition." Ezra walked up the steps to lean against the rail post then
take off his hat and brush off some dust. "All in all, your impromptu
lesson in the proper town etiquette for young men wielding catapults made for an
amusing if rather fable-esque anecdote for Mrs Travis' publication." He
smiled only to scowl a moment later when the stray came up to rest its head on
Chris' knee. "Oh, please." Ezra winced as Chris rubbed the dog's
ragged left ear. "You do realise that it probably has fleas, lice, and all
manner of wildlife infesting its fur -- and I use the term loosely."
"Ain't you never had fleas before, Ezra?" Chris smirked.
"Never shared a bed before?"
Ezra blinked back at Chris before glancing at the open jail doorway and
clearing his throat. "I'm sorry to say that not even a gentleman such as
myself can traverse this country for any length of time without falling victim
to some form of parasite, human or otherwise. However, Mister Larabee, courting
their attentions is something I have learned to avoid."
"You don't like courtin', Ezra?" Chris continued to rub the dog's
ears.
With a glower at the growling stray, Ezra moved closer, lowering his voice,
"You do realise that your current course of action will have its
consequences?"
Chris grinned.
"Fine." Ezra moved away, clearing his throat. "Fine," he
repeated just as Buck came up the boardwalk loudly announcing that something he
was railing against 'made as much sense as squatting with your spurs on'.
* * * *
Chris ached. There was nothing he'd have liked better than a long, hot bath,
but the bathhouse had long since closed its doors and he was too tired to head
back to town in any case. After settling his gelding in the corral by the side
of his cabin, he dully turned for the long walk to bed. Maybe there was a kernel
of truth in Vin's mocking after all; maybe he was getting too old to chase
straying sheep all over--
He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the thick smoke swirling up from
under the cabin door. Cursing, he turned back to the water trough, grabbing the
nearby bucket and filling it before charging into the cabin.
The sight that greeted Chris as he burst in, snarling with his bucket at the
ready, was not what he had been expecting. However, looking back on it, it was
exactly what he should have been expecting, inexplicable cabin combustion aside.
Standing in the middle of the main room, shirtsleeves rolled up as he emptied
the contents of a steaming bucket into a very hot, very full copper bathtub,
Ezra greeted him with a smile. "Ah, Mister Larabee, I see you have brought
the other bucket in with you. Thank you." He rubbed his damp brow on his
forearm. "If you could just pop it down over there, I'll be with you
presently."
"Ezra, what the hell are you doing here?" Chris dropped the bucket
unceremoniously on the floor.
"Making you up a nice hot bath." Ezra grinned. "A task that
looks a lot easier than it is, I assure you," he added ruefully before
turning to fidget around with some brown paper wrappings. "If you mean how
I arrived, with the bathtub, of course."
Chris eyed the tub. It looked suspiciously like the ones in the bathhouse,
right down to the compartment underneath where the coals to kept the water warm,
only this one was bigger and had little seashells imprinted along the edges.
"That's not my tub," Chris pointed out grouchily but could already
feel the steam relaxing his sore muscles.
"It is now," Ezra replied sunnily, "courtesy of a Mister
Bagshaw from Philadelphia."
"Hope you got more than a tub for your trouble," Chris said,
shrugging out of his coat and letting it drop to the floor as he toed out of his
boots.
"I assure you, the evening will be well worth my while," Ezra
murmured to the water while pouring a fine white powder into the bath,
distracting Chris from his words.
"What was that?"
"Soap," Ezra answered simply.
"Didn't look like soap," Chris returned suspiciously but continued
to strip, unbuckling his gun belt and hanging it over the back of a nearby chair
before pulling his shirt over his head and moving over to take a closer look at
the bath and its foaming surface. "It stinks like a whore's parlour."
Ezra met Chris' unflinching gaze with a hard look of his own. "Well, as
much as I hate to disagree with a specialist in his area of expertise, I assure
you that your common or garden prostitute couldn't afford anything of the kind.
Now, if you'd care to peel off your remaining garments, we'll get started."
He turned away to tend to the fire in the stove, muttering something.
"You're not burning my clothes," Chris warned as he got naked then
climbed into the bath. Damn it was hot! "Don't even think about it,"
he breathed out, breaking into a sweat as he sank deeper into the steaming
water. He closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feel of the water burning and
soothing him, lapping teasingly at his nipples. This was exactly what he needed.
He should have bought his own proper tub months ago. How come it took Ezra to
figure out how much he needed this?
He had no idea how long he'd been relaxing there with his eyes shut but when
he opened them again, the steam was still rising and Ezra was crouched by the
side of the bath, his forearms folded on the rim, pillowing his cheek while he
watched Chris with a soft, green gaze.
"Good?" Ezra asked, eyes flicking away to watch his fingers wriggle
in the water. "Not too hot, I trust?"
"Perfect." Chris leaned forward, closing in for a kiss, but Ezra
moved away, standing up and moving behind him.
"So, as many have often wondered, what colour is your hair, Chris
Larabee?" Ezra enquired lightly before pouring a cupful of warm water over
Chris' head. "Care to take a wager? Is there a strawberry blond somewhere
in there?" he continued while Chris sat very still, not saying a word until
Ezra began to wash his hair as if he had a blood vendetta against it.
"Ezra!" he snarled, pulling away to glare and ending up getting
soap in his eyes.
"I'm not going near that hair until I'm satisfied it's free of any
unwelcome guests." Ezra beckoned him back. "Come along, it won't take
long."
"I can wash my own damn hair," Chris snapped back then did just
that. Sure enough, Ezra directed his efforts until he was completely satisfied,
but it wasn't long before Chris was sinking down into the water, relaxing again.
"You coming in?" he asked sleepily as Ezra settled down by the side of
the tub again.
Ezra shook his head slightly then reached out to finger along Chris' nearest
shoulder then down his chest to a nipple. "I like this view."
"You just want to watch?"
"No." Ezra grinned mischievously, his hand stroking further down
Chris' body, making his stomach muscles tighten in anticipation and his cock
stir in its eagerness to meet Ezra's clever fingers.
"You've done this before," Chris said with a slow smile.
"No," Ezra responded, his fingers brushing Chris' rapidly hardening
cock. "I just have a very vivid imagination." His fingers tightened,
squeezing and stroking.
"You've given this a lot of thought?" Chris asked, leaning forwards
to find Ezra's mouth for a torturously slow, world-consuming kiss even as Ezra
found a rhythm that made him break the kiss to gasp a sharp breath.
"You could say that," Ezra admitted hoarsely, worrying Chris'
bottom lip. "Over the months, I've considered it." He pulled Chris in
for a plundering kiss while building the pace on his cock to a punishing climax.
"Probably from the first time I ever saw you wet."
Chris came hard, reflexively pulling Ezra towards him.
Ezra fell into the bath with a splash and a muffled yelp.