Setting: OW
The young deputy was crossing the street of Salt Flats on his way to the Post Office, when he paused and squinted. Once his eyes adjusted to the long string of riders approaching, his swift feet took him down the street. His face split into a smile, as he ran to greet the dusty travellers.
"Guess this means I gotta give up the good seat," Eddie noted of the leather chair behind the sheriff's desk.
"You ain't got enough ass yet to fill it, Son," Colt retorted, giving the kid a weary grin. "Anything I should know about?"
"Nope, it's been real quiet." Eddie eyed the two men tied up riding behind Sheriff Haskill, "We got plenty of room."
"Good," Colt barked, "You lock these bastards up." He jerked his head and slide off the horse, stretching his back.
"On what charges?" Eddie cocked his head.
"A list longer than your arm, starting with murder." Colt gazed up and down the street, his eyes seeking one person.
"She's been worried," Eddie answered the handsome man's inquisitive search.
"I'll give you a hand, Son," Josiah offered, grabbing Hazzard roughly and jerking him off the horse. The swift motion sent the battered figure into the horse trough. "Mind your step, now." he warned, grabbing the back of the judge's neck and hauling him towards the jail.
Mary lifted another pie from the oven and carried it outside. She made her way carefully to the rack, and set the hot tin down next to the other three pies. Two peach and two apple, along with the cinnamon star cookies she'd made. She used the linen cloth she'd carried the pie on to wipe her hands. She was headed back towards the kitchen door, when a voice broke the afternoon silence.
"Heard tell there's an old widow in these parts with a room to let."
The smile born on her face came slowly, softening her features as it grew. By the time she turned around, her eyes were shining and her heart racing. She strode slowly across the wooden planks on the large porch until she reached the railing. She leaned over and drank in every feature on Colt's handsome face.
"That so?" Mary raised an eyebrow. "Don't recall that. Sure is a shame about the sheriff." She toyed.
"How's that?" Colt took the bait, lost in her blue eyes.
"Turned feeble-minded," She shot back, tapping her temple, "...mind's gone..."
"Shocking." Colt bit back a grin, "I heard he was quite a man."
"Well 'was' is the right word. It was a terrible tragedy. I believe in ancient China it was known as 'limp noodle' malady."
"Really?" Colt wheezed, trying desperately not to laugh. He heard the laughter of the others and saw Chris Larabee grinning and shaking his head, behind Mary. "Maybe you can help a lost soul?"
"That depends on what you have to offer," she said huskily, sending a flush to Colt's face.
"How about two hands, one heart and my eternal love and devotion?"
J.D. groaned and ducked the scoundrel's swatting arm, as Mary wheeled around searching among the weary group.
"What the devil?" Her eyes grew wide when they saw the six-foot plus hunk of cowboy, who wrapped her in a bearhug. "Buck! Buck Wilmington!" she enthused, pulling back and gripping his face. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Handsome. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Mary," Buck laughed, kissing her forehead. "The offer still stands. Hell, I even brought a preacher with me."
"You're a little late, Marshal," Colt comforted, laying a hand on Buck's shoulder. "This old widow is already spoken for."
"You use the words 'old widow' again and you'll have the lonliest honeymoon in history!" Mary warned, protesting slightly when he pulled her into a hug.
"Is that a fact?" Buck inquired of the engagement, then noticed the small diamond ring Mary wore. "You know Colt," he cocked his head, "You're a cheap bastard." He joked, lifting Mary's hand to look at the ring. "I would have sprung for a two-carat rock, would have drug your finger clean down to the sidewalk," he teased, squeezing both of Mary's hands. "Still plenty of time, you ain't hitched to this bum yet!"
"You are a silver-tongued devil, Buck," Mary smiled, "and I'm mighty tempted, but I'm gonna have to pass. I do have a favor," she paused and saw his eyes narrow, "I want a seat in the first pew when some lucky girl puts a lock on that big heart of yours." She stoked his face and felt the moisture build in her eyes.
"You got my word, Mary," Buck vowed, covering her hand with his and smiling, "You know a Wilmington's word is as good as done." He sighed and finally tore away, extending a hand to the grinning groom-to-be. "Good Luck, Old Man, that's a helluva woman."
"Preachin' to the choir, Buck," Colt replied, gripping the hand. The others offered their well wishes too and Buck caught Mary's eyes. "Mary, I hope that airy room off the kitchen I stayed in is still available."
"I got more than enough rooms for all of you," Mary answered, brows creasing in confusion. The room he referred to wasn't one she rented out. Colt turned her around and embraced her, sighing in contentment as how well the tall, beautiful woman fit into his arms and his heart. He cupped her chin and kissed her tenderly, then pulled away, taking a deep sigh.
"What's wrong?" Mary sensed something lurking in his eyes.
"We caught the bastard," he replied, taking his hat off to wipe his forehead.
"Don't expect me to feed him," Mary's voice was cold and hard, matching her eyes. "Course I do have some pie filling left and a bit of rat poison."
"I'll deliver it," Chris grunted in approval.
"Mary... they made a mistake at the prison," Colt said softly, tipping her face upwards. Over her shoulder he watched Nate helping Vin down from his horse. The tracker's legs buckled and he went to his knees, but the healer righted him and they moved towards the porch.
"What do you mean 'a mistake'?" she queried, watching the emotional play on his face.
"Afternoon Ma'am," Vin rasped, feeling his chest tighten at the audible gasp his voice caused her to make. Before he could react, he found himself wrapped in a tight embrace. He felt her trembling fingers running through his hair and the soft sobs in his ear. "Don't go cryin', I ain't hardly worth ya wastin' yer salt."
"You hush up, Vin Tanner!" she choked, pulling back and gripping his shoulders gently with both hands. She shook her head in disbelief, staring hard at the pale blue eyes, within the dark circles rimming them. The hollows of his cheeks and the dreaded weight loss brought on by illness, gave her pause. Try as he might, he couldn't hide the pain in his eyes. She laid a hand on his cheek and shook her head in amazement. Then she hugged him again, running a hand through his hair as she lifted her damp eyes heavenward. "Thank You..." she offered, letting the tears fall.
"I missed yer perfume," Vin whispered, his heart pounding.
"Perfume?" She pulled back, wiped her eyes and chuckled. She kept a good hold on his left elbow, feeling him swaying and shaking a bit. "That's not perfume. I've been baking all day, that's cinnamon and nutmeg and sugar and..."
"Yeah," Vin rasped, breaking into a warm smile. "...sure did miss it..." The heady scent brought back an onslaught of memories. How those strong arms held him and pulled him through a murky, dark river, sending Death skidding back on her heels. How do you thank someone for that? Someone who cradled a stranger to her breast and tenderly ministered to him, like he was her own child. Someone whosevoice was his beacon for all those dark nights, when he was lost. How could he tell her how much it meant to him? The last day he'd seen her... the day they took him away... was foggy and muddled. He recalled the heavy leg and arm irons and screaming at Buck. He searched and searched in his memory, but it happened so fast. "Ma'am, I need t'tell ya... I got took so fast, I ain't quite sure if... " he shifted, rubbing his shirt with his free left hand. "Damn... m'chest hurts," he complained, dropping his head as the heat flushed his face.
"You're welcome, Vin," she answered his silent bouquet, shining through those eyes and that soft voice that gripped her heart. She tipped his head up and kissed the flushed cheek. "Those eyes of yours are about the most eloquent speakers I've ever heard. But..." she warned sternly, watching him fill up with emotion. "You and me are gonna have a long talk about this 'Ma'am' business. It's Mary, landsakes Boy, I'm not hardly eighty-five years old."
Her fingers rubbed his back and she felt the ribs clearly. Taking his arm, she wrapped her free hand around his waist to support him. "Now, you're coming with me. You need to put some meat back on those bones. I've got washboards with more definition that you." She paused as she passed Buck and caught the wink and smile. "I've got a nice airy room off the kitchen. You're gonna stay here until you're well."
"No call t'go t'any fuss, Ma'am," he winced as she playfully swatted him. "Mary... sorry."
"Fuss?" she paused and stared hard into those deep blue eyes, her fingers traced a spot on his side, "You're family, Son." She saw him swallow hard and smiled, "Now you hush up or I'll get my wooden spoon."
The laughter sounded like music and Mary smiled as she finished the last dish. Colt and six of the seven peacekeepers had finished a grand dinner and now were tearing up her assortment of pies, except one. She eyed the peach pie and the stew she had waiting her injured guest. He'd hardly been able to stay awake during lunch, and hadn't stirred since. She'd lost count of the trips each one of his friends had made into the room off the kitchen. They'd walk to the bed, look Vin over and once they were satisified, they'd return to the table.
The silver moon peeked in at her and she rubbed the small of her back. She yawned and eyed the clock on the wall in the dining room. It was almost nine p.m. and she'd been up before dawn. She opened the back door and bent to lift the basin of rinse water, when a cool voice stopped her.
"Let me."
"Thanks Chris," she sighed, "Lord, but I'm tired tonight. Must be gettin' old..."
"You'll never be old, Mary," Chris replied, walking to the end of the porch and dumping the water out. He paused and inhaled the breeze, which seemed much sweeter tonight. "Set a date yet?" He asked, when he heard her move next to him on the porch.
"Not for a couple more months, three maybe." She frowned, "Got to work the date around my children. Sure will be something, all of them gathered around. My youngest boy, Daniel, he's moving back here, he's fresh out of college. That was important to my husband, that all the boys get to college."
"Back East?" Chris asked.
"New England... Boston. His father was a doctor."
The sentence ended so abruptly, Chris turned to look at the pretty widow's face. "Sorry."
"Don't be," she patted his arm, "It's a long time ago, over thirty years. Seems like yesterday..."
"I didn't figure you for a city girl."
"I'm not, John was." She paused to remember the tall handsome man who stole a young girls heart. "My folks were from Tennessee."
"Pretty country," Chris recalled of his brief glimpse of Tennesee during the war.
"I don't remember too much of it, we came west when I was a girl. John... well he and his father butted heads over everything. They were too much alike. He had three older brothers, two doctors like their Pa. John, he had wanderlust and his father didn't approve. Thought anyone beyond Viriginia were outlaws and renegades."
"I know the type," Chris mused.
"We met north of here, in a little bordertown. My folks had passed and I was only sixteen, living with the preacher and his wife. John answered an ad in the paper and came west, the town's sawbones was gettin' on and they needed a healer."
"Love at first sight?" Chris smiled, seeing the woman's eyes light up.
"Something like that," she chuckled, "Colt was the greenhorn deputy in the town and he and John became fast friends. We were married three months later. Then Anne, Jack, Brian and Dan came along. Smallpox epidemic broke out eight years ago..."
"I'm sorry."
"I miss him sometimes..." She turned and saw his puzzled face. "I promised him when each of the boys was born, they'd go to school back east. He saw a need for educated men out here, doctor's and engineers and such. Well, you can guess the rest. Jack's a doctor in a hospital in Boston, Brian is a scientist in New York and Anne, she's not too far. She married with three little ones, lives in St. Louis. I get back east one a year to see the boys. Dan... he's like his Pa, stubborn and short tempered. He didn't want to go to college, Colt sure gave him a good tongue lashing. He's close to Colt, he was so young when John died... Colt taught him a lot."
"Lucky boy," Chris didn't hide his admiration.
"Thank You," Mary squeezed his hand. "Anyhow, he's got a job with the government, surveying the land. He was always a wild child, riding into the hills... " She sighed, and patted Chris's hand. "You're a good man, lending an ear to a woman's prattle... I didn't mean to keep you from your friends."
"You didn't," Chris said, taking her arm and leading her to the door. "I was with a friend. Besides, you're a helluva lot prettier and you smell better." He stopped in the doorway and eyed the dark room to the side.
For a moment, struggling from the deep recesses of slumber, he didn't know where he was. His eyes tried to peer into the darkness, to make out a recognizable shape or form, but failed. Everytime he tried to focus on the sliver of moonlight coming into the window, the pain caused him to clench his eyes shut. Vin was on his left side, curled up in a ball. His right arm and shoulder were throbbing and his lower back felt like a knife was twisting in it. He licked his dry lips and tried to call out, to anybody, but his exhaustive state left him worn out. Maybe if he sat up... his mind pressed and he nudged his left arm, trying to push his body upright, that was a mistake.
Chris slipped into the dark room and headed for the bed. His back jerked up when the soft cry sounded.
"Aw, shit..."
"Vin!" Chris answered the strangulated drawl. He moved forward and turned the lamp up to a low light. "What's wrong?" He knelt by the bed and watched Vin blinking, his eyes unable to adjust to the intrusive light. The tracker was curled into a ball, his face a mask of pain. "Vin?" Chris tried to ease his friend up, only to be cut off.
"No... God..."
"Alright... alright..." Chris left one hand on Tanner's sweat-slick back and groped to the bedside table with the other, finding a mug. He shook it and moved it closer, nudging Vin's lips. After the sucking ended, the panting and hissing began again.
Vin bit his lower lip, trying to press the cry back down. He saw Chris's head turn to the door and forced his lips open. "...don't need... no herd... o'folk... trampin' in here..." he warned.
"I can be discreet," Chris defended, gripping the back of Vin's soaked head.
He heard the choked chuckling sound and saw the lips twisting. "Shut up, Tanner! I'll get Nate... quietly. Hold on, Cowboy," he urged, squeezing Vin's neck and departing.
He moved silently through the deserted kitchen and poked his head into the large dining room. Ezra had been regaling them with an episode from his past, that ended with him sneaking out of town disguised as a woman.
Josiah's dry commentary and Colt's bold statements had the others in stitches. He caught Buck's eye and nudged his head toward where Nate was, and put a finger to his lips. Buck nodded and picked up his coffee cup. Nate was pouring a shot of whiskey in his coffee, when Buck ambled over.
"Another cup?"
"I'll get it," Buck tapped Nate's arm and moved his finger towards the now deserted doorway. "Chris needs you, Vin must be hurtin'...Chris had that look..."
"Okay..." Nate handed the potent drink to the rogue and departed. "I'll be back," he answered Mary's questioning look as he passed by. "I'm gonna look in on Vin."
By the time he got to the bedroom doorway, all he could see was the back of Chris's dark burgundy shirt. The leader was kneeling on the floor, talking in a low voice to Vin. When he got closer and saw the wet grimace the Texan wore, his brow's furrowed. Chris moved out of the way and Nate dropped down. "Your back or your shoulder?"
"Yup..." Vin rasped, licking his lips. "Can ya gimme somethin', Nate?"
"Yeah," the healer nodded, answering the weary eyes lined in blue hope.
"Chris, give me a hand here, I want to sit him up." Nate moved his hands to Vin's hips and Chris snaked his hand under Vin's left arm, on the bed. "Easy now, Vin." He nodded to Chris and they moved in unison, ignoring the sharp cry of pain. Vin was now sitting up, hunched forward and rocking. "I'll be right back, I got some laudanum and somethin' for your back."
"How long were you laying like that?" Chris asked, guiding a fresh cup of water to Vin's clenched fit.
"Not long." Vin took the mug and sipped slowly. "I couldn't figure out where I was... tried t'sit up and it felt like a fuckin' poker was in m'back... took m'breath away..."
"Helluva party," Chris distracted, pouring water from the basin onto Vin's blue bandana.
"Thanks," Vin rasped, taking the cloth and wiping his face and neck. He winced again as the brief movement caused another wave to slam into him "Shit..." He clenched his eyes shut and heard Chris's hiss of anger. "It ain't so bad... reckon I'm just tired."
"You can't lie for shit, Tanner."
Nate turned from the stove, where he mixed up some herbal tea, laced with the sedative, and bumped into Buck. "Dammit Buck!" He braced himself and didn't spill a drop.
"Sorry," Buck whispered, drilling the healer's face. "How bad?"
"Bad enough," Nate snapped, then relented, when he saw's Buck's long face.
"He'll be okay, Buck. He's still a few weeks from bein' up to ridin' on a horse. He had too much sun."
"..and too much fun." Buck added, thinking of Hazzard squirming. "Can I help?"
"Yeah, take this in there and get him to drink. I've got somethin' to mix up for his back. Go on... tell him I'll be right in."
"You like like shit, Vin." Buck appraised of the pain-ridden, huddled mass on the bed.
"Fuck y'all Bucklin," Vin shot back automatically, not opening his eyes. He felt the bed sink down as a body moved beside him.
"Bottoms up, Slick," Buck coached, wrapping Vin's tense fingers around the mug. "Nate cookin' somethin' up for your back."
"Aw, hell... he didn't tell Mary did he? I don't wanna ruin her party."
"I was very discreet," Chris added and saw the shaggy head cock.
"When pigs fly." Vin coughed. He sipped the tea down and felt his eyes growing heavy. He felt Buck's hand rubbing his back and Chris's penetrating gaze. He opened his mouth, but his tongue was off duty and he shut it again. He slid his eyes shut and drifted a little, until he heard footsteps.
"Can you two stand him up a minute, I want to loosen his pants." Nate directed, then they eased Vin onto his side on the bed. Nate knelt on the floor behind him, while Chris kept a vigil in front of him.
Chris watched the healing hands dip into a pot and then begin to massage Vin's lower back. The moan that slipped out of the tracker's slack lips was one of relief. The tension lines left his face and the fist that gripped the sheets, finally uncurled.
"...feels good... Nate..."
"Aunt Eulie's Comfort." The dark hands continued there circular motion, rubbing the mixture of oils, eucalyptus, rosemary and birch. It had a deep soothing effect, putting out the fires that radiated from Vin's bruised kidneys.
"Yer aunt... ye thank her..."
"She was everybody's aunt," Nate recalled of the elderly woman, "Knew more about healin' than any doctor I ever met." His fingers moved upwards, rubbing the heated liniment into the tense, bony back. He exchanged a concerned look with Chris, who also noticed the effect of the prison ordeal. It would be awhile before their friend was healed, inside and out.
"...s'okay now... don't... need..."
Chris waited a few minutes, after the words died off, until the face was slack and without any signs of tension. He nodded to Nate, who left the balm on the table, in case Vin cramped up again. Nate pulled the sheet up and heard Chris ease his body into the chair.
"Aunt Eulie sure had the touch," Nate stood and headed for the door.
"So does her nephew."
Nate turned back and exchanged a grateful smile with the weary gunslinger, whose legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.
"Coffee?"
"Yeah... better not load it, I got feeling it's gonna be a long night." Chris sighed, watching the door slide shut.
"Spell you later?" Buck asked, from the shadows.
"Yeah, thanks Buck." Chris nodded, shifting in the wooden chair. He saw a wistful expression rain on Buck's face, as he paused by Vin's bed. Buck rested a hand on Vin's shoulder a moment and winced. He had a feeling Buck was lost in the desert again, thinking on the journey that had so deeply affected both men. They'd shared some of the details with their friends, but not everything is painted by words. He knew Buck was changed by the ordeal and the bond he now shared with Vin was a lasting one, which was reflected clearly in the deep blue eyes that looked upon the sleeping patient.
"You rest easy, Tanner, your back's covered," Buck vowed.
Everything was the same, yet everything seemed different. The buildings hadn't changed, nor the residents who scurried below, greeting each other amicably as another new day rose. His head cocked and he felt comforted by the musical sound of the children's voices as they raced towards the new schoolhouse. He watched J.D. and Buck carrying on in front of the sheriff's office, before disappearing inside. Josiah would be striding towards the saloon soon, to meet Nathan and Ezra for breakfast. Mary pulled the shades of the Clarion, before reaching to get her apron from the hook by the door. Everything was the same, yet something was missing.
He sighed heavily and drew his knees up, resting his chin on his left arm. A small breeze kissed his face and sent his hair past his shoulders. He eyed the glorious birth of another day and saw the rose and golden face of Dawn. Usually he loved this time of the morning, everything was soft and new and covered in dew. Fresh air brought the promise of hope, for each new day offered that with an open hand. He sighed again and wondered where his spirit was. His friends had done more than a man could ask. Ridden further, tried harder and given more of themselves than he thought he could repay. He rejoiced in the simple things: Billy's laughter, Buck's smile, J.D.'s enthusiasm, Josiah's comforting voice, Nathan's gifted hands and Ezra's charm. Chris, he sighed and shook his head as he saw those haunted eyes.
What of his new friends? He leaned forward from his perch on the roof of the billiard hall and looked down the street. Absentmindedly, he touched his cheek and still felt Mary's hand there. His heart ached when his mind drew up the pretty woman's face; those bright blue eyes and dark curls that greeted him in the morning, always with a smile. He relished every minute of the week he'd spent in her care. His ears still felt the caress of her voice, as it caught the day he left. Colt Haskill, they don't come any finer, he nodded to himself. A man who'd put his neck on the line to save a stranger. A man who left his own town to track down the two-legged snake named Hazzard. He owed his freedom to that man. A firm handshake and a heartfelt smile had been the only reward the Salt Flats lawman would accept.
He'd been back in Four Corners for over a week now. Nathan had given him some exercises for his shoulder and Aunt Eulie's Comfort was never so appreciated. The strong, dark hands rubbed the warm liniment into Vin's sore muscles twice a day and it gave him great relief. He had so much to be grateful for; his friends, his town, just the simple act of watching Dawn come courting. He scratched his neck and sighed again, wondering how to cure the deep ache inside. The pain that Nathan couldn't fix with medicine or excercises. It didn't make sense, he had no right to feel so low. Everything was the same, yet Vin Tanner was different.
Chris Larabee stood several yards behind the small figure huddled on the rooftop. Vin's santuary, his own private belltower, as Ezra christened it. He counted the heavy sighs and saw the sorrow in the brief glimpse he got when the tracker's head turned. He'd watched Vin's depression building over the last few days and he wasn't alone, the others were worried too. Vin was too quiet and much to withdrawn. He didn't laugh or smile, just nodded now and again from the far corner of whatever room they were in. He wasn't eating enough, and that had Nate worried. Vin still had a good amount of weight to gain back and without a good diet, he didn't have the strength he needed. By early afternoon, one of them would find him sleeping. He'd disappear after breakfast, to the roof or for a walk. One day J.D. found him asleep at the desk in his office, twice Josiah found him dozing in the church and Chris found him sleeping between the card came Ezra and Buck were having just yesterday. He lifted the pot of coffee he carried with a towel wrapped on the handle. His other hand held two empty mugs. He moved next to Vin and slid over an empty mug, then bent and filled it. After filling his own mug, he sat down on the empty crate beside Vin.
"New furniture?" he asked of the wooden box.
"Improvin' m'image..." Vin replied tonelessly. Actually, Mrs. Potter had given the crates to J.D. who followed Vin up to the roof earlier and deposited them.
For awhile they sat in silence, cloaked in their own thoughts. Twice Chris saw Vin lift his head and turn, the blue eyes struggling to convey the deep feelings into words. Once his lips parted, but no words sounded. Chris wanted to take the question out by force and relieve his friend of whatever burden plagued him. Still, he waited, sipping his coffee and biding his time; keeping his place by Vin's side.
"I got no call t'be feelin' s'blue..."
"You've been through hell and back, Vin." Chris replied, eyeing the clerk washing the window across the street. "I'd say your more than entitled."
Five more minutes passed and no more words were issued, then Vin's lips parted again. "I been thinkin'..." the sharpshooter said, raking his free hand through his tangled hair.
"Might as well get comfortable," Chris took his hat off and poured another cup of coffee. He heard the soft chuckle and found a small smile of his own. Five more minutes passed and Chris sighed, turning and squinting at the forlorn soul.
"Well?"
"Dale Thorton."
"Dale... what?" Chris frowned, shaking his head. "Thorton... that rancher that died? That was months ago."
"He was good man, honest and hard workin'." Vin whispered, rocking slightly, thinking of the friendly rancher. "He had a wife and three youngun's countin' on him. It weren't fair..."
"Is that what's been eating at you all week?" Chris's voice rose and anger flashed from the green eyes. "That's he's dead and your not? Jesus Christ, Vin!" Chris jumped up and the crate skidded backwards, as if escaping the wrath of the black boot. "Don't fuckin' waste my time!"
"Didn't ask ya t'squat here," Vin hissed, not hiding the wounded tone in his voice.
Chris stopped halfway to the stairs, fists clenched as that same wounded voice gripped him. "Shit..." He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, getting his anger corraled. He turned back and walked slowly, coming to stop a foot behind the hunched back of Vin Tanner.
"I should'a died in Fanning... should'a died in damn desert," he whispered, "...should'a died in Salt Flats. Damn well should'a died in that fuckin' prison," his nearly inaudible voice noted of Bendix. "Hell, even got carved the fuck up and shut in a coffin. I just don't... can't understand... .Chris?" He turned and burned a hole right through the tense gunslinger.
Chris winced as the blue eyes wounded him, then turned back toward the street below. He inhaled slowly and rested a hand on Vin's shoulder. "I'm not a real religious man, Vin. But one thing I believe, is that without faith, you got nothing."
"Faith..." Vin murmured, raising his head. A curious word, that meant something different to so many people.
"Yeah, Cowboy," Chris replied quietly, squeezing Vin's shoulder, then releasing, giving the tracker some space. "What's it mean to you?"
"Trust." Vin replied without thinking, tapping his chest. "In here... feelin' it without seein' it... knowin' without thinkin'..."
"I got no answer for Dale, Vin." Chris relayed, licking his lips, "or for any of the thousands of innocent people who die everyday. God's the only one who can answer that. Guess you'll have to ask him." Chris paused and met the tracker's struggling eyes. "but how about waiting for another sixty years or so?" He met the soft smile with one of his own and settled back onto the crate.
"I got alot t'be thankful fer," Vin said, his eyes warming as Buck's large frame filled the window of the sheriff's office. "So why can't I get rid o'this hole?" He rubbed his stomach.
"You would if you ate more," Chris deadpanned, "Reckon a rib poked a hole in there..."
"I been eatin'" Vin defended, squaring his shoulders.
"Vin I've seen birds eat more than you. You won't feel better until you start eating better."
"I'm tryin' Chris," Vin sighed, "But I can't eat when I got somethin' weighin' on me, it don't stay put."
"I got two hands," Chris offered his palms and saw the shaggy head rise.
"...and I quote 'a man ought to know when to take a hand'..."
"Shut the hell up, Buck," Vin chuckled, of the gunslinger's mimick. But as his laughter died, his eyes darted back to the boardwalk, where Buck was making time with Colleen Morgan, a seamstress who was new in town. The pretty redhead was smiling and nodding as Buck was using every one of his charms to woo her. He leaned forward as the pale green skirt went around the corner and Buck's head turned and his head lifted. As their eyes met, Vin kept his gaze on the rogue, but directed his words to the leader. "When I was in the army, ran with an Irishman named Muldoon. He had a sayin' 'I'm a better man fer the knowin' of 'im.'" He smiled and nodded as Buck gave him a mock salute then waved and took off after his prey. "I swear he was talkin' about Bucklin."
Chris tossed a half-smile as he heard the catch in Vin's voice. He found himself nodding and refilled both cups with coffee. He tapped Vin's and nodded again. "Truer words were never spoken. He feels the same way. Give it a little time, Vin. Healing inside takes a little longer. I'm always here." He sipped his coffee and inhaled the breeze, which suddenly seemed sweeter. He felt the change inside and snuck a glance at the recovering Texan. The eyes were a little bluer and the shoulders just a bit straighter. There was a light in Vin's face again and although he knew the wound wasn't totallyhealed, the tide had changed. "Better?" he asked quietly and saw the head dip once. "Good... now you gonna hog them popovers you got hidden in your pocket?"
"Yer gettin' bold in yer old age, Larabee." Vin growled and snaked his hand inside his pocket, drawing out a worn, but still whole cheese popover. "I'm partial t'sharin..." he offered with a shy smile. "...like half?" He held out the Travis product and the two exchanged a warm smile, that had nothing to do with the cake.
Chris took the popover and produce a knife with his other hand. He eyed the cake and frowned, screwing his face up. "Damn, Vin, didn't you wrap it a napkin? It's got pieces of that ratty hide coat stuck to it."
"Fuck off," Vin mock-ired, grabbing for the popover with his free left hand. Chris dodged the hand and sliced the baked item in half. He suppressed a grin as the hand next to his snaked out and grabbed the larger piece. He finished the cake and leaned forward, enjoying the warm sun on his face. He heard a rustling sound and jerked his head over, spotting Vin munching on another popover. "You had two?" he hollered and heard the sinister laugh from the drawling trickster. "Why didn't you give me a whole one?"
"Ya didn't ask," Vin muffled, shoving the remaining half in his full mouth. "...sides, ya ain't totin' a sling."
"Oh I bet Mary never knew what hit her," Chris noted of the pretty widow who baked the popovers just for the tracker. "She spoils you..."
"Yeah," Vin sighed wistfully, draining his coffee. "Must be something about that name."
"I'll drink to that," Chris toasted both strong women, then rose to leave. "Duty calls. Ezra, Buck and me are riding out to McTavish's. Craig scared off some rustlers last night, we want to have a look around and check with the other ranchers. "You take it easy," he spied Vin snaking his right arm from the sling. "You remember what Nate said, it's gonna take some until your a hundred percent. Don't overdo it..." Chris paused and saw Vin scowling. "I know you're impatient, Vin, but Nate said your shoulder's a lot better than he'd thought it would be at this point."
"Yeah, I know... it don't make it any easier. Seein' y'all ridin' out... workin'... helpin' folks... doin' m'job fer me." He paused and frowned, his handsome face darkening, "...don't like it..."
"I know, Cowboy," Chris sighed, squeezing Vin's shoulder and turning to leave. "You get a good nap today, so you don't embarass me and fall asleep during the game tonight."
"Fuck y'all Larabee!" Vin chuckled, his eyes shining as the lean figure in black approached the stairway to the street below. The smile of his face died and he parted his lips. "Hey, Chris..."
Chris turned and saw Vin's somber expression and tossed his head up, indicating he was waiting.
"What's it mean t'ya?" Vin paused, tilting his head slightly, "Faith..." he offered the question in the green eyes.
Chris's reply came automatically, thrust from his heart and uttered with total conviction and without any hesitation. "Vin Tanner," he lauded, drilling the sky eyes with his own, before nodding and disappearing down the stairs.
Buck looked up when Chris appeared through the batwing doors of the saloon. He stood and stretched, rubbing the small of his back. "Well?" he asked, grabbing a cookie from the plate Inez left. "He okay?"
"His body's healing," Chris replied, "It's gonna take a little longer for his spirit to catch up." He paused and saw Buck's crestfallen face. "He'll be okay, Buck, he just needs some time. Where's Ezra?"
"Upstairs changing his coat," Buck replied distractedly, thinking of Vin.
"What the hell for?" Chris snarled, eyeing the stairs, "Ezra, get your ass down here, we're late..."
"I don't believe they heard you in Denver, Mr. Larabee," Ezra drawled, appearing on the landing above, with a new green coat. "How fares our suffering sharpshooter?"
"Better..." Chris answered, watching the change on Buck's face. A dangerous light appeared in the scoundrel's eyes, one the gunslinger knew all too well.
"Buck..." Chris warned, his eyes narrowing.
"Hah!" Buck clapped the bar and wagged his eyebrows. "Sometimes I scare myself."
"A sentiment echoed by most people who have ever had the pleasure of making your acquaintance."
"Hell, Ace," Buck slapped the conman's back, "You play your cards right and I'll let you in on it..."
"Spare me the details," Ezra denied, waving his hand and heading for the door.
"No." Chris said narrowing the gap between the two old friends. "I'm warning you Buck, put out the fire in your eyes. He's not up to it, I mean it, Buck."
"I wouldn't hurt him," Buck snarled in a voice so venomous, it stopped the man in black in his tracks. For a tense moment, neither man moved, the only sound was the twin echo of sharp breathing. Then Buck's face softened a bit. "I got this idea, you see..."
"I don't have a deathwish," Chris put his palm up and brushed past Buck.
"You two move slower than molasses in July," Ezra's voice sauntered inside, "Shall we depart, the midday sun isn't good for my delicate complexion." He noted of the full day ahead.
"What the hell is good for your delicate complexion?" Buck retorted, putting his boot in the stirrup.
"Well, there is a certain courtesan in New Orleans..." the southerner drawled, his green eyes full of mischief. This got the rogue's attention and he rode to catch up. As he passed the middle of the street, he paused and cast his eyes skyward. His handsome face broke into a smile as the shaggy head appeared over the edge of the roof.
"Ya give 'em hell, Marshal," Vin hollered down, wearing a broad grin.
"You can count on it, Tanner." Buck boomed back, waving his hat and whooping after Ezra.
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