The Christmas Gift

Chapter 6

By Alias

e-mail: <a href="/py/wmailCompose.py?Pyt=TWmail&[email protected]&FormId=,232,5FBAE78,3E69802,9F6C519">[email protected]</a>

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Disclaimer: See part one.

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"Stupid damn fool."

"Huh?"

Chris glanced up at the barkeep. He hadn’t realized he’d been

thinking aloud. "Nothin’. Just talkin’ to myself. I need another

drink."

The ‘keep poured, and Chris went back to cursing himself, only this

time, he kept quiet about it. What the hell was wrong with him,

kissing Sarah like that? He knew what he’d been thinking. He’d been

thinking that he couldn’t handle it anymore, always seein’ her, never

bein’ able to touch her…well, if it’d been bad before, it’d be worse

now. Before, he’d only had her image and the brief moment he had held

her, and his imagination had done the rest. But his imagination

didn’t come near doing the real thing any justice.

Nothing could have prepared him for how soft her lips had been, for

how it had felt to have her small frame pressed against him…how she’d

responded to his kiss. She’d never been kissed before, he knew that.

Her returning the kiss had been basic instinct. And she had damn good

instinct.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Chris suppressed his groan. He

hadn’t heard Buck come in. If he had, he’d a found a way to avoid him.

"What’re you talking about?"

"Leaving Sarah alone like that. What if Cates

had—" "He tried. It didn’t work." But Buck was right.

He doubted that Cates would try to force Sarah into marriage

again, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t try to use her in other

ways. "Who’s with her now?"

"Kyle." Chris started to get up, but Buck stopped him. "Just a

minute. We need to talk."

"About what?" Chris asked, not really wanting to know.

"You. What’s up with you lately Chris? Ever since we took this job,

you’ve been acting like you were in hell on Earth. And the way you’ve

been avoiding that girl, it’s as if—well Good Lord Almighty, I don’t

believe it." Chris glanced suspiciously at Buck, and groaned when he

saw the idea that had already formed in his friend’s mind. "You’ve

fallen for that girl, haven’t you?"

"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"I can’t believe it. You’ve fallen for that girl and it scares the

shit right outta you, don’t it."

"Buck?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut the hell up."

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"Let me help you with that."

Sarah glanced up at the man in the doorway. He hadn’t said much in

the few days he’d been there, but she’d figured out that when he did

talk, it was worth listening to.

"Thank you." She watched as he quickly gathered the remaining dishes

with startling ease. "You, uhm, you’ve know Chris for quite a while,

haven’t you Mr. Larabee?"

"Kyle. And yes I have Miss Sarah. Since he was thirteen in fact.

‘Till he called me and asked me to come out here though, I hadn’t

heard from him in a long time."

"Oh?" He gazed at her, and she had the feeling that she was being

sized up. She’d had that feeling several times in the last few days,

but didn’t know why he did it. Apparently, he came to some sort of

conclusion.

"Chris’s father walked out on his mother before he was born. Guess he

couldn’t handle the thought of being a father, some men can’t. When

he was four, his mother remarried, to a guy named Wyatt. His idea of

fun was beating his wife and stepson daily, sometimes ‘till the boy

coughed up blood. Beat Chris worse’n he beat his Ma."

"How horrible." Sarah gasped. No wonder Chris was so…cold. He was

probably afraid everyone would hurt him. How could he not be, when

someone who should have loved and protected him had hurt him so

horribly?

"Wait, there’s more." She didn’t know if she could handle more. "One

day, I came across a thirteen-year-old boy. He’d been dragged along

behind a horse for miles. It was a miracle he was still alive. I

rushed him to a doctor. He said his stepfather had done that to him,

as punishment for the kid trying to stop him from beating his mother.

Got me directions to the house, and to this day, I’m amazed that horse

of mine survived the trip, hard as I rode him."

"Was she…all right?"

He shook his head sadly. "She was dead before I got there. The

bastard—pardon my language—was sitting at the table, drinking."

"What…what did you do?"

"I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re asking. No, I took him to

jail, saw to it that the lady got a decent burial, and hung around to

see what happened next."

"What did happen?"

"He got off. Wanted the kid back, so I took off with him, kept him

with me for the next few years, till he up and left me without a word.

Didn’t hear anything from him until he asked me to come out here.

Kept track of him though, just like he kept track of me." Kyle

stopped and cupped Sarah’s chin, tilting her head so that she was

looking at him. "Jake Wyatt all but killed that boys soul. But he

didn’t, and Chris shields what’s left unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

But you…somehow you managed to get in there."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. Not very far in, not yet, but far enough that you stand a

pretty good chance of bringing him back into the world."

"What if I can’t? What if I mess up?"

"Then that boy will go so far back inside himself that not even a

miracle will ever bring him back out." Then he smiled at her. "But I

don’t think that that’ll be a problem."