Setting: OW
Buck's eyes flew open and he gasped at the nightmare ended. His rapid breathing was accented by darting blue eyes. He blinked in quick sucession until the blurry image cleared. He tried to move, but two hands eased his shoulders back.
"Easy there... that's a nasty crease," Vin noted of the awful head wound, "...gonna be awhile 'til it heals altogether. Ya drink this now and don't give me any lip..."
"...you... first..." Buck protested and eased his head back against the rock. He saw the blue eyes flash in anger, but Tanner took a sip and Buck followed suit. Vin got the fire going again and set the root vegetables to cooking. He mashed up some of the fruit and boiled it, adding the mulch from the Mormon Tea plant. He gave the mug to Buck with some fruit and sat back, eating a piece himself.
"You from these parts, Tanner?" Buck asked, sipping his fruit tea.
"Don't rightly know," Vin shrugged, squinting in pain as his lips cracked.
"You got no kin?"
"My Ma died when I was five... I bounced around a bit... all over Texas." Vin normally didn't discuss his past, but something about the barren table at which they sat moved him. Buck was a stranger, yet his friend. There might not be a tomorrow and he wanted to keep the groggy, feverish man conscious.
"Spent a few years with the Comanche and Kiowa... taught me huntin', trackin' and a helluva lot more. Hunted buffalos fer awhile then took t'huntin' two footed animals..."
"Bounty hunter?" Buck's voice was sharp and he winced again and a pain lanced his head.
"Yeah... fer awhile... til Eli Joe took care o' that."
"Who's Eli Joe?"
"Feller what framed me..." Vin sighed, his eyes harbored and old, bitter flame.
Buck saw the pain hovering in the sky eyes. "I'm sorry, Tanner... didn't meant to stir that up..."
"...s'okay, Marshal." Vin sighed, "Only talked about it once..." he recalled the conversation on another night in the desert, with Chris. "Reckon neither of us might not live to see another sunset." Vin paused, crawled over and turned the roasting vegetables. Settled back in, he kept his face on the setting sun. "Ya see, there was a piece of land... sittin' square in the middle of a spot the railroad had their eye on. The farmer that owned it wouldn't sell. I was trackin' a murderin' bastard..."
"Eli Joe?" Buck guessed and saw the shaggy head dip.
"Turns out he was settin' me up the whole time... lurin' me in..." Vin spat, tossing the remnants of the bitter fruit away. He sighed heavily and continued. "He had long hair and blue eyes too... I was a fuckin' idiot." He grunted and a coughing fit ensued, causing him to sit forward and rock, holding his aching ribs. "Eli worked fer a judge on the take... did most o'his dirty work and killin's" Vin's eyes grew hot. "Spencer fuckin' Hazzard... crooked as they come."
"...and..." Buck prompted, seeing a need in the younger man to release the tension and deep-seeded pain.
"...Hazzard owned the land all around the piece that Kincaid wouldn't sell," he said of the dead farmer. "The more he bought, the more he'd make sellin' t'the railroad vultures."
"...and he hired Eli Joe to kill this farmer?" Buck guessed and saw the angry head dip once.
"...bastard even wore a hide coat... I found him just after they done it... and got picked up. Folks seen a long-haired fella with blue eyes and hide coat fighting with Jess. Next thing I knew... m'face is plastered the hell all over the place." He gritted his teeth and clenched a fist. "Vin Tanner, Five hundred dollars... wanted fer murder... dead or alive."
"You had no alibi?"
"Nah... kept m'own company." Vin sighed, suddenly worn out. Years of tension had taken him to a crest. Now that he'd purged the bitterness, all the energy flowed out of his worn body. "I knew... hell that damn Judge bragged about it. Come t'see me the night 'afore the hangin'. The fellers who caught me worked fer him..." Vin's voice trailed off. "He stood in m'cell and looked like a fuckin' snake that ate a mole..."
"How'd you get away?" Buck asked, heavy eyes fighting to stay awake.
"Well, I figured I'd rather go out with a bullet, then t'get strung up fer the whole town t'gawk at." Vin replied, crawling over and getting the crisp rooted vegetables from the flames. He mashed them up in the empty tea mug and poured some whiskey on them. He handed Buck the mug and a small knife.
"Go on..." he coached.
"Could have swore I ordered a steak with fried onions..." Buck joked.
"Aw, hell..." Vin hissed, his stomach growling. Sighing, he picked up a small piece of roasted root.
"Sorry..." Buck winced and ate his supper, "So?"
"They was transferrin' me from the cell t'the gallows. It was outside the mill." Vin recalled of the close call. "It was near the river... sittin' right over it... so I shoved the sheriff over and jumped. Took the deputy with me... they's so busy gettin' t' him... I took a deep breath and went under. Took a couple bullets, but managed to swim underwater fer a spell."
"...damn..." Buck shook his heavy head and finished his meal.
"I don't recall much after... washed up and got plucked from the river by some Indians... they saw m'mark... so they helped me. Damn near died... but got the hell outta Texas as soon as I could ride, ain't been back since."
"What mark?" Buck perplexed and saw Tanner peel his shirt away and reveal a small tattoo on his upper shoulder. "My adopted grandfather, Gray Eagle, marked me when they brung me in... I was jest a little feller..."
"You didn't have no Pa either?" Buck asked and saw the other nod. "My Ma raised me up alone too." His face softened when he thought of her. She was such a beautiful woman, so full of life and laughter. "It bothered me for awhile... being a bastard, but she set me straight."
Vin turned sharply and listened, his heart constricting painfully. He still felt the power of Buck's words under the tree morning. He thought he'd slain the Dragon. Buck's raspy voice told Vin about meeting Chris and coming west. Vin enjoyed hearing about the youthful Larabee and his wild side. He worked the whole time, asking questions to keep Buck awake. He made a travois and packed their belongings.
"Sure wish I heard from Danny..." Buck rasped, "Damn fool kid nevers listens to me. Don't know why I bother."
Vin's hand froze on the strap he was tying. His heart began to hammer and he was glad he was turned away, so Buck couldn't see his face. Danny... Danny Whitehorse... an image of the dark-haired Indian boy who Buck took under his wing. He recalled the story Buck told them one night in halting painful phrases.
The newly appointed marshal saw promise in the boy whose mixed-parentage caused him to mature all too quickly. His parents had lived quietly outside town, until a fever took them. The padre at the misson had taught him well and he lived there, until Buck met him. It didn't take long for the gregarious Wilmington to win the kid over. The partnership worked well for over a year, until the star that Buck wore so proudly, tarnished.
Danny made the mistake of thinking like his mentor. It was discovered that an elderly gentlemen who lived outside town, was an escaped convict. He'd been living on the lam for years, and now his health was failing and he settled quietly in a shack outside town. He never bothered a soul, until the night a group of drunken yahoos tried to burn him out. The crime he'd commited, killing a man in self-defense with no witnesses, had been done nearly forty years before. But that didn't matter to the torch-bearing drunks who feared the long-bearded recluse. Buck was transferring a prisoner and out of town. That was the hardest part of the story and Buck's voice wavered when he told them. He didn't want to go, but it was only overnight. What could happen in one night? Danny made the mistake of defending the man. When Buck got back, he found Danny locked in prison. A judge was called in to try the case. The boy was accused of murder, for shooting a shopkeeper, one of the drunks who led the bigot party outside town. The old man died anyway, they hung him. Danny tried to stop the lynch mob, but was outnumbered and beaten unconscious. The Judge convicted him, saying Danny had given aid to a murderer and his actions led to the death of the shopkeeper. The fact the Judge was a bigot himself didn't help. The next day when they hung Danny Whitehorse, that was the day Buck turned in his badge. That was a year ago, but in Buck's mind it hadn't happened yet. Vin flinched and completed his task. His face was still locked when he dropped down.
"Hey Tanner?" Buck said as the weary prisoner dropped down. He saw more than exhaustion and wondered what this new look was. It appeared to be regret. He lifted the bottle and took a sip of whiskey. He saw Tanner cock his head and pursued his gut feeling. "You got any regrets?"
"Huh?" Vin squinted and saw the somber face with a wistful shadow.
"Regrets," Buck sighed, "Like that small horse ranch with a good woman and a pack of younguns I keep seein'... shit..."
Vin paused and saw the veil of hope shatter and the painful longing on Buck's face. Then the eyes were staring right at him. He thought for a minute and shrugged. "Dunno... guess jest seein' a new sunrise been enough fer me. Never put any thought t'the future. Hell... had the past bitin' m'ass all the damn time..." He deadpanned and saw the mirth in Buck's eyes. He flushed despite his sunburn and heard the other man laugh. He watched the wistful look in Buck's eyes and a huge smile appear. He eyed past the area where Buck's eyes were riveted to.
"Miss Liberty..." Buck sighed, as he relived his past.
"Who?" Vin asked, then read the famous Wilmington grin. "Aw, hell..."
Buck saw the shy eyes duck and felt the heat rise. The laugh snuck out unexpectedly and it gave his aching side a burst of pain. Despite that, he clutched it and picked up the whiskey bottle. He decided to take the lead. "I was sixteen... thought I was a real Casanova." Buck bragged, shaking his head. "Miss Liberty... God what a vision. Long wavy hair red like fire... green eyes and breasts that would make you cry."
Vin laughed and felt the tension leave his weary frame. His mind's eyes saw a tall, goodlooking teenager who was cocky and brash. "Miss Liberty? What kind o'name is that?"
"The kind that Circus passin' through gives the lady flame dancer. It was Fourth of July... and man did I see fireworks... " Buck laughed. "Shit... it only lasted about two minutes. I thought I was some damn stud. She got a hold of me and I lost it... well... temporarily." Buck crowed. "You can't keep a Wilmington down." He saw Tanner fall sideways convulsed in laughter. He joined in, suddenly overcome with emotion. In another time and place, they could have been friends. "Your turn," he handed the bottle of truth to the younger man.
Vin took a sip and peeked slyly at Buck. "I was fourteen or fifteen, I guess," Vin paused, "Don't rightly know. It was up north in some dustbowl in the middle o'nowhere. I was ridin' fer the Pony Express..."
"No kiddin'?" Buck didn't hide the amazed awe in his voice. "You got balls, Tanner. That was one fuckin' dangerous job."
"No worse'n' any other," Vin shrugged, "...didn't get no name, found out later she was a widda, had a son older'n me. Sure was pretty..."
"Fourteen... damn" Buck whistled in awe, "...and an older woman. You must have been quite a stud."
"Hah!" Vin shook his head. "Not hardly. I handed off m'bag and went down to the river to wash off the dust. I seen her bathin'... I was down the stream a ways. I was uh... takin' care of things..." he hushed and Buck laughed. "She seen me... and I froze like a damn deer. I couldn't move... then she was there and took over. Hell, it was like she had four hands and two sets of teeth..."
Buck laughed so hard he slid sideways, landing on Tanner who was also convulsed in laughter. After several minutes, the laughter died, but the strong bond was formed. Buck felt the other man draw him up and quietly set him in the travois. He watched every bit of pain as Tanner moved in stiff, slow tracks. Finally, they were ready to leave.
Vin knelt down and hung the canteen around Buck's neck. He wrapped the shivering body in the bedroll and the extra clothes. He rested a hand on the trembling shoulder and caught the other man's eye.
"We'll get a good piece o'ground under us... with any luck, I'll get ya t'town tomorrow sometime. Ya hang on Marshal, okay?"
Buck heard the tinge of a heavy heart in the emotional face staring at him.
Through fevered eyes he felt such a strong attachment to the special stranger and couldn't understand it. But he decided then and there, under the guise of moonlight to follow his heart and make a stand. He raised his hand and offered it to the other.
"I believe you, Tanner..."
Four words, that's all they were. But to Vin Tanner they meant everything.
The Buck Wilmington he'd known and grown so close to in Four Corners believed him. But Vin never knew why. Did Buck believe him because Chris said he was framed? Or perhaps because he'd become a friend and didn't want to think elsewise? A part of Vin always thought so. But now, in the middle of a killer desert, the answer rang true. That this stranger wearing a star so proudly on his chest, his adversary by nature, had filled him with faith.
Four words...carefully chosen and carried on a cool desert wind from the lips of a lawman to the ears of the bounty...rendered him speechless. If he lived another day or by some miracle if he survived this ordeal and lived another fifty years, he'd never forget. Four words that gave him courage and suddenly his legs felt stronger. He took the hand and gripped it hard, then nodded and sent back a tide of emotion in his light eyes.
"Thanks, Marshal."
He rode into the darkness, bearing the proud man behind him. Four words...given freely by choice, not by want. As the darkness swallowed the pair, Vin Tanner never felt taller.
Mary's stomach was in knots as the leering Mexican led her upstairs to the top floor. The guard said something in Spanish to the Don, whose back was turned and he replied. Then he was gone and she was alone. Candles flickered from a small table nearby where two glasses and a bottle of wine were waiting. He slowly turned and she felt naked as he eyes raked over her.
She moved back as he advanced, until her legs hit the bed and she stopped.
"You look lovely, My dear Mrs. Travis." He picked up her hand and kissed it and she felt her stomach turn. Although he was in his mid-fifties, he was still a very handsome man. He was tall and well built with a head full of silver hair. "Shall we?" he motioned to the wine and she managed to recover.
"I have decided you will come back to Mexico with me." He announced, handing her a glass of wine.
"You can't be serious!" She blurted, face coloring. "I can't... won't do such a thing."
"Oh but you will." His voice was like velvet and the dark eyes mesmerizing.
"...and willingly."
"Never."
"I noticed your office... The Clarion?" He took a long sip and stared openly at her. "I do not approve of such a thing, but I admire your ambition. I'm sure you have heard of the profit tobe made in white slavery."
Mary nearly dropped the glass and her mouth fell open. She backed away as he advanced again, until she was against the wall. She felt his breath on her neck as he leaned forward and kissed the tender spot behind her ear. His hand boldly cupped her hip and squeezed the firm flesh under the skirt. She hissed and slapped him and he laughed, taking both of her hands in one of his and pinning them above her head. He leaned closer, his face inches from hers.
The dark eyes were smoldering and his fingers unbuttoned her blouse. She was breathing heavily and sweat began to trickle down the path between her breast. She closed her eyes in humiliation as he dipped his head and licked the moist area.
"Don't..." She wavered, and the silver head rose. Her hands remained trapped and cupped her breast over her chemise. He slid his hand under the lacey undergarment; pinching and probing her tender flesh. She felt tears pricking her eyes, until he ended his thought.
"Oh, but my icy beauty, you will soon learn to melt to my touch. That boy of yours, with such bright yellow hair and blue eyes, will bring a high price on the market."
"You animal!" She cried out, squirming as his advances grew bolder. "You wouldn't do that to an innocent child."
"It's one of my most profitable enterprises. Ah, then there is the lovely young girl who lives outside town. Casey, is it? Yes, a fair-skinned virgin.
She will be a ripe asset..."
"You vile beast..." She spat kicking him and pushing free. "I'll never let you touch them. I'll..."
"You'll do as I say or never see either of them again."
She didn't doubt his words, his reputation preceded him. His exploits were legendary. She continued backing away until she hit a desk and he was pinned her to it. He gripped her head in his hand and forced a brutal kiss on her.
His tongue savagely explored her mouth, while his hand pushed between her legs. She shoved him hard and fell to her knees, trying to crawl "Why do you fight so? You cannot win." He laughed, watching her pull herself onto her feet. "The choice is simple. You come with me tonight. If you resist, I will take you by force and you'll never see your son again."
She walked to the window and watched his soldiers lining the street. She thought of Billy lost to her forever and Casey raped by some cruel Mexican patron. She felt him before he touched her and closed her eyes, shutting out her revulsion. His leaned into her hard from behind, grinding his hardness against her. She bit her lip and two tears fell as he lips assaulted her neck and the hands slid under her chemise. One hand then slid below her waistline and she gasped.
"No... not like this..." She gasped. "I'll come with you... and you keep your word. No harm to any citizen. Casey stays here, untouched."
"Agreed." His hot breath scorched the back of her neck and the roving hands pressed into her groin. Just as she began to panic, there was a sharp rap on the door. His cursed and pulled himself away. She slumped against the window and tried to formulate a plan.
"Mrs. Travis, shall we?" He waved his hand at the cart laden with food. She buttoned her blouse up and took a deep breath. Taking a seat, she eyed the full plate before her and her stomach turned. He began to eat and looked over at her. The door opened again and he threw his fork down in anger. His stream of cursing grew angry at the intrusion.
"It's not there." the guard reported. "There are papers all over the floor and the safe is empty."
"What?" Don Alfredo turned to Mary. "What do you know of this matter at the bank?"
"Oh..." Mary blushed, "The manager disappeared during the night and emptied the safe. I wired the county clerk's office and the Judge is coming to make a complete report."
He was angry and she saw the danger in his stance. She suddenly felt her ploy was a bad one. He strode the room like a caged beast and barked some orders to the waiting soldier. Henodded and departed. He turned to her, his eyes livid.
"No Wilmington... no money... ah!" He turned to her and she felt her heart tremble. He reached out and stroked her face, then gripped the back of her neck. "You my Ice Queen, were worth the trip. My men will take what they can from the stores after they eat. They will meet us later. Finish your meal, we are leaving soon."
"Soon?" Mary balked, trying desperately to stall so Chris could get there. "Yes...I have a camp not far from here. Secluded and near the river." He pulled her close again, kissing her hard, while forcing his hand between the parting of her legs from behind. "I will have you tonight my beauty under the stars..."
Vin jerked up in the saddle as his chin hit his chest. He didn't know how many hours they'd been traveling. His mind was numb, his bones weary and his flesh in agony. He reined the horse in and slid off, dropping to his knees. Using the full moon as his guide, he caught his breath and rose, taking a pear from the saddlebag. He crouched next to Buck and placed the fruit on Buck's lap. He rested his hand on the slumbering man's forehead and frowned. Buck was burning up and they were still a good twelve hours by horse from town. Sighing, he tapped the face and called to the injured man.
The cannons were booming and the bullets whizzing past his head. Cold, icy, shards of rain pelted him like razors, biting his tender skin. He dove for cover, raised his rifle and fired. There were bodies all around him and he felt a lancing pain in his side. He screamed and saw the blue-eyed Reb pulling out a bloody bayonet. He screamed and lunged for the boy, gripping his throat.
"No..." Vin managed as Buck's hands choked him. The fevered-weakened man slumped back, his eyes black and vacant. Vin tapped the cheek and held up his creation. He'd mashed some Mormon Tea plant into the pulp of the pear. It took awhile, but Buck got the whole cup in him. Vin frowned at the shallow breathing and dull eyes. The full moon gave the wounded man a sick pallor. Vin felt a cold fear racing up his spine. What if Buck didn't make it? Sighing, he ate a pear, took a little water and capped the canteen. He staggered to the horse and dissolved into a sneezing fit. He wiped his nose and watery eyes and coughed. Finally, when the fire in his chest died down, he managed to climb onto his horse and resume the trek through hell.
"Hold up..." Nathan raised his arm and J.D. moved next to him.
"What?"
"You see something down there?" the healer asked, squinting.
"Maybe..." J.D. narrowed his eyes and a body became clearer. "We got company," he announced.
Chris rode past them, Ezra in his wake. They approached the figure and noticed the odd gait. Then the body went to its knees and Ezra moved off his horse cautiously, after Chris nodded and pulled his gun.
"Drop it!" Chris barked and the body lurched. Ezra moved forward and caught him, then lowered him into his arms.
"My God, it's one of McTavish's boys," Chris gritted, recognizing the tall boy with the tell tale McTavish auburn curls. He knelt and tapped the fifteen-year-old's face. "Glen, can you hear me?"
"He's been shot," Ezra noted, pressing a handkerchief against the boy's shoulder. "I need some light..." he announced and Josiah produced matches.
"Mr. Larabee?" the wounded boy gasped. "...hurry... you got to... go... he has her... they got the town... but we saved the money... in a trunk at your shack... Mrs. Travis's idea... Mrs. Travis... Oh No!" he struggled to sit up.
"Easy Son." Ezra pulled him back down. "You're losing blood. I assume the Alvarez gang has taken over the town?" He guessed and saw the head nod.
Nathan appeared and pressed a bandage onto the wound.
"How bad?" Chris asked the healer.
"He'll be okay... went right through." Nate said. "I need to get him to the clinic, so get this done."
"Glen?" Chris said, tilting the drooping boy's chin. "What happened?"
"We knew they were coming... emptied the safe to a trunk in your shack... told them the bank manager took off with it... they were mad... He took Mrs. Travis... and Billy..."
"Who?" Chris's voice was like molten steel.
"Don Alfredo... he promised not to burn the town if she went... he was gonna take Billy from her... sell him... told Miss Nettie... but she fixed the rest..." he laughed and took the canteen Nate offered. "Thanks Mr. Jackson..."
"How'd you get shot? How'd Nettie fix 'em?" Nate asked.
"That Don guy left after Mrs. Travis talked to Nettie. Took four guards with him, left twelve in town. They were gonna loot... stores... but then they ate... she... she... put laudanum in their food... we locked them up."
"Damn!" Josiah sighed. "Remind me to stay on Nettie's good side. Where's your Pa, Son?"
"...hurt... they tried to hurt Inez... he tried to..stop... they hit him... I didn't want them to get away... with Mrs... Tra...vis... I... I... followed..." He choked. "I almost had 'em... got one of them guards... but the other saw... shot... I sent the horse off... so'd they follow... got away..." He gasped and looked sorrowfully at Chris. "I'm sor... sor..ry Mr. Larabee... I wanted to get her back for... I'm sorry..."
"Glen, look at me," Chris said quietly, cupping the boy's chin. "You did a brave thing and tried your best. I'm grateful, Son."
Josiah could have sworn he saw the teenager beam. "They camped near here?"
"Yes, Sir... near the bend in the river, where Billy fishes with Vin." Glen gasped and Nate scowled.
"Help me get him on J.D.'s horse. That's enough talkin'!" The irate healer ordered.
"The big one has Billy... Don in tent with Mrs. Trav...vis... the other two outside... one by river... one one..."
"Glen... Glen?" Chris let his hand rest on the boy's shoulder.
"You know something," Josiah noted, eyeing the wounded boy, "That Craig McTavish sure knows how to raise 'em."
"He's a good man." Chris agreed of the rancher. McTavish and his clan were solid people, with strong values and good hearts. First to volunteer to help in any situation, always on their side when trouble came to town, his boys were just like him. Chris made a mental note to thank him personally. "Take care of him, Nate... Josiah, you and Ezra are with me."
"God help Don Alfredo." J.D. pronounced, watching the angry leader disappear into the night. He gripped Glen with one hand and the reins with the other.
"Somehow I think that bastard's headed south," Nate replied, "I don't think God will miss him."
Inez was in front of the sheriff's office with one of J.D. Dunne's guns tucked into the waistband of her skirt. The jail cells inside were full of the groggy Alvarez gang, save the two who were dead. She sipped the strong coffee, as she eyed the horizon. Her dark eyes were weary and she thought on the night's actions.
The plan had gone well and Nettie's tasty stew had sent all the gang, save the two guards into slumberland. Inez carried two plates of the spiked stew outside, but the guards wanted something else for dinner. One held her slim arms behind her back, kissing the side of her neck. The other used the rifle to probe under her skirt and between her legs. She cursed, spit and kicked, which only made them laugh harder. The one with the gun nudged his head and the other threw her on the ground and pressed himself on her. His eyes widened in shock as the bullet went through his head. Inez threw him off and ran to where Craig McTavish was wrestling with the other guard. Inez picked up the dead man's gun and fired, killing the gang member.
"Are you okay, Dear?" the thick Scottish accent found her.
She spotted the blood on his face and at first, thought he'd been shot. She took her apron off and held it to his face. "You're hurt..."
"Ach, Lassie... tis a hard head the Lord saw fit to give me. Did that animal hurt ye then?"
"No, thanks to you, Senor McTavish," she liked the musical sound of his accent. "Come... let's get you to the Saloon."
She helped him to the drinkery and got through the doors, just as his legs gave way. Suddenly, two six-foot lean bodies were beside her, blue-eyes wide and anxious.
"Da!" Twenty-year old Sean cried, spotting his bloody father's face. "What happened?"
"You father saved me from those wolves... he hit his head." She handed him over and saw eighteen year-old Mike eyeing the door. "No, they're dead, take him upstairs. Go..."
By the time she arrived with bandages and soapy water, the unconscious man was on a bed. His sons were hovering beside him. She eyed the empty hall and her dark eyes narrowed.
"Where is your brother?" She inquired of the fifteen-year old.
"He's on his way home," Mike replied, still shaken at the blood on his father's shirt.
"I'll take care of your father. You help Miss Nettie with the prisoners," She directed, smiling at the boys. "He'll be fine, go on now."
Chris, Ezra and Josiah found the camp quickly. Two guard were on opposite sides of a large canvas tent. The fire just outside the canvas, clearly illuminated the figures within. The site of the large, imposing male forcing himself on Mary, caused Chris Larabee's blood to boil. The shadows clearly illustrated the brute's advances and the blond growled and moved forward, only to have a large hand clamp on his shoulder.
"Easy, Chris, we gotta get Billy first."
Chris didn't reply, but the slump to his shoulder gave the Preacher his answer. "We'll take the guards out and find Billy. Try to wait for our signal, if you can."
Chris knew what they were asking, and felt his gut clench. How long was too long? If he charged too soon, and the missing guard noticed, he could hurt Billy or worse. But what about that animal's hands on Mary? The thought of her being raped by that bastard gave Chris such a white-hot burn, it took his breath away. He heard the pair leave and kept his eyes glued on the tent "Really, Senora, you try my patience. You will remove those garments or I'll remove them for you."
Mary heard the urgency in his voice and didn't have to turn to see the desire. She could smell it... the animal lust was in the air. She saw his white shirt sail by and land in front of her. She felt his hands on her shoulders and he pulled her back against him, grinding his hardness into her. He bit her neck below the ear and she cried out, pulling free. He pulled her back by the hair and wrapped on arm around her, pulling her against him. His free hand cupped her chin and his voice was husky.
"I warn you..."
With that she was released and heard him pulling his boots off. As her trembling hands undid the buttons on her blouse, she thought back on the night. The ride out had been uneventful. She rode with Billy in front of her. The tent was set up and the fire blazing within minutes. She kissed Billy and hugged him, before he was taken away, disappearing with two guards into the inky night. She'd protested that she had to go to the bathroom and then asked for a drink. Now the sands of the hourglass were running out.
The last button was freed and she took the blouse off.
It had been quite some time since a woman stirred him like this. The icy widow made his blood boil. He stepped out of his trousers, freeing his hardness. As soon as the creamy skin appeared, free of the cotton blouse, he seized her from behind. He pulled her back against him, thrusting against the firm flesh beneath the skirt. He assaulted her neck with his teeth and with one jerk, ripped the chemise, freeing her breast.
Mary bit her lip and tears fell as she felt him pushing against her. The hands mauled her, pinching and twisting painfully. Then his hand slid beneath her waist and down to her groin.
"No!" She screamed and turned, raking her nails down his face. She slapped him hard and kicked his rising passion.
"You are a foolish woman!" he growled, backhanding hard and ripping her skirt off. He threw her down, sending her onto a silk rug he'd lain down.
The blow left Mary dazed and her eyes were half-lidded. He spread her legs and pressed himself on her, forcing her mouth open and assaulting it with his tongue. His hand twisted her flesh and then eased below the brief bit of lace covering her. It was as his fingers reached her, that her eyes shot open and she bit his lip viscously, drawing blood. This blow was harder and it snapped her neck sideways. She was dazed and through blurry eyes, saw him reach into a black saddlebag and draw out a whip. She didn't understand the stream of Spanish cursing but saw the intent clearly as he stood over her, and raised his hand.
Ezra deftly whipped out his stiletto and sent the guard by the river into sweet repose. Josiah did likewise with the other, using his strength to snap the man's neck. In unison they moved toward the area where the distinct sound of a child's cry was heard.
Billy eyed the star again, it was the brightest in the sky. He closed his eyes and made the same wish. He was scared and cold. He was angry at these men who took him away from his home. He was worried about his mother and the mean man with white hair who took her away. He felt his lip tremble and his small chest waver.
"Shut up Chico!" The guard warned, tired of the boy's crying. He'd lost his partner and the kid who shot him. He'd pay for that later, the Don would be angry. He was so intent on getting to the boy tied nearby, that he didn't hear the approaching figures.
Billy's face never changed when he saw Josiah and Ezra appear. The guard turned and Josiah slammed a gun into his head. The guard staggered and charged and Josiah wrapped his arms around him. Ezra motioned with his head and Josiah understood. The gambler was heading for Billy and didn't want the boy to see.
"Are you alright, Son?" Ezra asked, untying the lad's hands. He wasn't prepared for a hug, but recognized the need. He returned it and sent his reassurance. "Your mother is fine, Mr. Larabee will return her to you."
"Chris is here?" Billy drew back, his eyes like saucers. "I knew it... I knew he'd come... I wished on the star... I knew he'd come..."
"Ezra, go update Chris. I'll stay with Billy." Josiah took the boy and Ezra took off.
Chris paced like a caged tiger, every muscle screaming for action. He wanted to feel that animal's neck between his hands. He needed to see the bastard's eyes pop out. He wanted blood and he intended to get it. For Buck and Vin... and for Mary. Mary, just the thought of that animal being near her made his insides clench. His feelings rose and bit back at him. Then the shadow dancers in the tent changed their step. He saw the beast hit Mary and her body fall. Then the light illuminated the clear outline of the bandit's lust as he stood over her.
"Fuckin' bastard!" Chris gritted and charged. His heart was torn. He didn't want Billy hurt, but he couldn't watch Mary get raped. Then he saw Ezra on the top of the hill, giving him the high sign.
"Chris!" Mary screamed as the virulent, green-eyed demon charged through the flapped entry.
With lightning speed and an unholy scream, the fury-driven gunslinger ripped the whip from the beast's hands and wrapped it around his neck. Through clenched teeth, with green eyes bulging, he spun the struggling bandit around and forced him on his knees. Still twisting the leather and cutting off more of the gurgling man's air, the hostile blond drew his boot back and kicked the beast's groin will full force. He tossed the whip away and began his fisted lessons. Blow after blow rained down on face, chest and gut. Several well-placed kicks left the patron a shuddering pile of refuse on the floor. Gasping for breath, Chris wiped the saliva from his lip and drew his knife out. He bent over and gripped the thick white hair, jerking the man onto his back. With teeth bared, he leaned over low, using his boots to spread the beaten man's legs. Ignoring the relentless throbbing in his injured right wrist, he knelt over the body and pressed his left forearm against the animal's throat. He gripped the hilt of the knife and bared his lips.
"Reckon it's time you went to Hell," Chris's voice was low and feral, "...your boy Marco's waiting on you. I sent him ahead to make a fuckin' reservation," Chris snarled and drove the knife through the stunned man's groin, pinning him to the floor. He twisted and jerked the knife, with several well-placed movements, completing his job. He stood without turning and shirked his duster off, handing it backwards. He waited until the soft call of his name drew him around. Then she was in his arms, weeping. He pulled her outside the tent, shielding her eyes.
"It's okay," he soothed, brushing her hair. "It's all over, Billy's fine."
"Are you sure? Did you see him?"
"Ezra and Josiah have him." Chris replied, then studied the pale face before him. "Mary, did he rape you?"
"No," she sighed, resting against him, trembling despite the strong arms of comfort. "Thank you doesn't seem quite enough," she sobbed, tears finally spilling. "Oh, Chris.."
"Shhh!" he murmured, kissing her forehead and holding her tighter. He tilted the head up and brushed the tears away with his finger. "Lady, you got guts."
She eyed the tent and shivered again, still shaken at how close it had been. Then she felt the anger rise and her temper came out. "Rot in Hell you damn bastard!"
"Mrs. Travis," Chris mocked shock, his sandy eyebrow raised, "Was that a swear word?"
"You bet your ass it was," she hissed, leaning into his embrace. She felt his breath as his chuckle escaped. "Where did you come from anyway? How did you find us?"
"We found Glen McTavish up the road, he followed you out of town. Caught a bullet in the shoulder. He told us what Nettie did and what you did..." He brushed his lips against the top of her head as it rested against him. "The Calvary could use a good woman like you."
"They don't pay enough," she retorted.
"...and you'd miss me..." he joked and then his smile faded when her face turned up to meet his.
"Yes, I would," she said, resting a hand against his cheek. Suddenly she remembered the wire that came earlier that morning and her heart sank. "Buck and Vin?" she asked, hoping for a miracle. She felt him tense from head to toe and saw him bite his lower lip. Then the green eyes briefly shimmered before he swallowed hard and prevented the moisture from falling. "Oh, Chris, I'm so sorry." She drew his head down and it rested on her shoulder. She ran her hand through his hair and heard a brief hissing sound. A small crack in the armor... but to her it was like a knife in her chest. As quickly as he came, it was gone. He stood up and walked towards the horses. He winced, gripping his right wrist, which was throbbing and useless.
"Need a hand, Brother?"
"CHRIS!" Billy squirmed, anxious to greet his hero. Chris knelt and caught the boy, savoring the scent of the blond hair as it caught his face.
"Hey, Partner."
"I knew you'd come and save us... I wished it on the star... I knew you'd come..." he announced and gave the gunslinger a hug. "Where's Vin?" The boy asked, knowing the tracker was always at Chris's side. He frowned in puzzlement when Chris put him down and turned away. "Mama? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, Honey," Mary said quietly. "Let's go home. We'll talk about it in the morning."
"Come on Chris." Josiah said, helping the injured man into the saddle. "Mary?" He assisted her onto a horse and saw the answer in her nod. "Thank You, Lord." He sent his eyes heavenward. He placed Billy in front of her and turned back. "You go ahead, Ezra and I will clean up this mess."
"Mr. Larabee." Ezra exited the tent and called the blond, whose head rose from where is was hanging low. "Exceptional work."
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