Setting: OW
After pie and coffee at McGowen's farm, the pair set out for Four Corners. It was past six p.m. when they rode in and the sky was a striking deep blue, slashed with vibrant shades of pink. Both slid off their horses and tossed the reins to the kid at the livery. Chris saw Buck heading for the saloon and tapped his shoulder.
"How about a couple of thick, rare steaks at the Hotel?" Chris invited. "I"m buying..."
"That's funny?" Buck peered in the empty saloon, then rubbed his growling stomach. "Guess we'll catch up them later. Okay, Old Man, I guess your silver's good anywhere. Let's go..."
Chris let Buck walk into the side entrance of the hotel, which led into the dining room. A booming chorus of voices sent the stunned cowboy rocking on his heels.
"Surprise!"
"You okay?" Chris laughed, steadying the wide-eyed Buck Wilmington, who jumped backwards. The blond manuevered around the gap-mouthed man and chuckled again. He rested a hand on Buck's shoulder and gave a good squeeze.
"Come up for air, Buck..."
"Huh?" Buck wheezed, staring as if dazed.
"Happy Birthday, Buck..." Chris said quietly, as the other man's face turned to meet his. The eyes were blinking again and finally Buck remembered to breathe. "Got you good, huh?"
"Jesus, Chris..." Buck stammered, eyeing the room and hearing the calls of the well-wishers. A large cloth banner was draped from one side of the decorated dining hall to the other. It read 'Happy Birthday Buck Wilmington' in large red paint. A table in the corner was laden with gifts and a journal, where the guests were invited to write their favorite memory of the guest of honor. He moved his numbed features again and saw the large buffet table, groaning with food and a huge cake with white frosting.
"Uh... uh... I... God..."
"Can I quote that?" Mary teased, lifting her face to kiss Buck's red cheek. She rested her hand there and caught his emotive eyes. "Happy Birthday."
"Finally, we have discovered a means by which to silence that golden voice," Ezra teased as he offered his hand, "Best Wishes, Mr. Wilmington."
"Thanks, Ez... Mary..."
"We scared the shit outta you... Hah!" J.D. chortled, smacking Buck's back.
"Happy Birthday Buck. Surprised you good!"
"That you did," Buck nodded, grabbing J.D.'s neck. "Thanks, Kid..."
"Here you go birthday boy," Josiah boomed, thrusting a mug of beer in Buck's hand.
"Thanks, Preacher," Buck exhaled hard, his hand still trembling. "I can't believe it. This was all a ruse... the trip today... Vin's being away?"
"It was Chris's idea, Vin's part just fit in fine," Nate offered his hand and congratulated the blushing tall man, "Chris's been planning it for months, he's a helluva friend."
"You got no idea, Nathan," Buck whispered, raising his mug to the blond gunslinger, who was lounging against the bar in the corner. Chris's smile was so relaxed, it took Buck back more than a few years. For a moment, time was suspended his mind flashed through all the adventures that the pair shared over a dozen years. Then he stared harder at the group of men next to the leader. They raised their mugs to him and all wore wide smiles.
"I can't fuckin' believe it..." he wiped a hand over his face and felt someone shove him forward. His legs took over, carrying him ahead past the patting hands of the town's folk, to the men at the bar. The handshakes and backclaps were welcomed and moved the tall man. He wiped the moisture from his eyes and his mouth split into a genuine grin.
"Lee... Bobby... Dave... Matt... My God... it must be..."
"Since that three-day party in Louisville after the war..."
Buck's head jerked at the familiar voice, one which he'd followed into battle and still held in awe. He found his hand gripped tightly and nearly saluted, out of instinct. "My God... Major McCall. How are you sir?"
"Fine, Sergeant Wilmington," the silver-haired military man greeted, "At ease, Son..."
"I can't believe you came... I'm honored." Buck stammered, trying to recall where the Major was posted. Virginia, no... South Carolina, maybe.
"The honor is mine, Buck," the other man rested his hand on the shocked rogue's shoulder, "You're still one of the finest soldiers I ever had the privilege to command." The senior officer moved away, letting the rest of the former unit greet the star-struck guest.
"He hasn't aged," Lee Riddlin suggested, breaking Buck's emotional moment, "Can't say the same for you, Buck."
"You look like shit, Wilmington," Dave Mason agreed, moving forward slowly on his wooden leg.
"Hey Dave, It's good to see you." Buck shook the young man's hand. The boy couldn't be much older than Vin, just as scrawny and as tough. "How are you?" He recalled the painful amputation all too well and the close call the young man suffered.
"Good days, bad days... I get by okay. I'm a teacher in New York."
"That's great, Dave!" Buck exalted, "You always did have a way with words. Matt, make yourself useful and grab a bottle, we got some serious catchin' up to do..." he boomed, herding his old friends towards a table. "Chris?" he turned back and saw the blond lost in thought. He motioned to the group that he'd join them in a minute and moved beside the somber blond. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Chris rasped, "Just thinking about Danny..."
"Shit..." Buck slumped, "Goddamn kid was all heart... 'member that crazy red hair of his?"
"Yeah..." Chris swallowed hard, remembering the terrified eyes of the dying sixteen-year old on a battlefield all those years ago.
"Listen, Chris, I want you to know how much this means to me. I'll never forget it... makes me realize how fuckin' lucky I am."
Chris nodded, dropped his head and curved his lips into a smile. "You and Miss Liberty..."
Buck's laughter exploded and he shoved Chris sideways. But then he latched onto the other's hand and gripped it hard. "Thanks Chris."
"Anytime, Pard..." Chris returned, with a hard stare, "Now bring on that whiskey!"
"Now you're talkin'!" Buck lauded, "I'll be right over, I want to say thanks everybody. Hell, half the territory is here."
"That'd be the free booze and food, Buck." Chris winked and drank in the deep laughter.
"Hey Guys," J.D. ambled over with the others trailing behind him, "Where's Vin?"
"He'll be here... he's running a little late." Chris replied.
"Took his sorry ass over to Mule Pass," Buck grunted as he moved away.
"Mule Pass?" Josiah screwed his face up, balancing a large plate of food.
"The rail depot? What for?"
"Don't know..." Chris sighed, "But he'll be along soon."
A couple hours later, the party was in full swing. Buck was regaling his friends, old and new, with battle talk, amidst the table littered with full plates and half-empty mugs. They teased him relentlessly, contradicting his version of the past events. Chris got up to get another beer when he saw a familiar hide coat shuffling over, behind Buck. He gave the tracker a nod and held up his mug, the other consented and Chris headed off to get two beers.
"...was on of the toughest nights I remember," Buck drew out the tension. "I was outnumbered, out of ammunition and flat on my back."
"Reckon that'd be yer own fault fer shackin' up in cheap cathouse, fer the old and toothless," Vin offered, sending the table into hysterics.
"Goddammit Vin!" Buck startled and jumped up. "Where have you been? I wasted a whole damn day chasin' your sorry ass all over creation."
Vin slid into Buck's now vacant seat and eyed the full plate. His stomach growled like an unsated lion and his mouth watered. Fried potatoes were piled high along side of a huge sandwich. The lean meat was housed inside a hot crusty roll and dripping with gravy. The starving Texan picked up the upper lid of the bread and wrinkled his nose.
"Ya got hot peppers in here," he complained, "...don't care fer 'em."
"Too goddamn bad, I do... and get out of my chair!" Buck thundered, smacking the smaller man's hand. "Paws off... get your damn plate. Jesus, you give the word squatter a whole new meaning."
"Ya mind not screamin' s'loud," Vin tossed a pained expression and slid his hand under his shirt. "My shoulder painin' me somethin' fierce... I'm a mite weak..."
"I think 'addled' is the word you mean," Buck hauled the smirking man upright, "If anyone's weak it outta be me. This body is meant for lovin' women, not chasing animals."
"Oh, I don't kow about that Buck," J.D. goaded, "I've seen some of the women you chase and they don't hold a candle to Bucklin's Beauties..." he laughed and ducked as Buck swatted him. "By the way, Vin... brilliant... pure genius."
"Thanks, Kid" Vin grinned.
"The boy has a point Buck," Matt Devlin grinned, "You sure did cut a fine figure chasing after them pigs."
"You didn't..." Buck winced, eyeing all the shaking heads. "All of you?"
"Funniest damn thing I've seen in some time." Bobby Taylor agreed, "This the guy who set you up?"
"Damn Buck, you're losing your touch." Lee joked.
"Son, you look a little worse for the wear," the Major stood and offered Vin chair. "Go on, take a load off. I was going to stretch my legs anyway."
"Ya sure?" the weary tracker asked. "Thanks, yer the Major Chris was talkin' 'bout? The one he visited?"
"Yes, I'm Major McCall," the formidable man extended his hand.
"It's good t'meet ya. Chris thinks alot o'ya..." Vin commended, shaking the other man's hand.
"The honor's mine, Son," Tom McCall replied, "He told me a great deal about you and the ordeal you've been through."
"Can't believe everythin' he says... but thanks..." Vin eased into the chair and looked up when a full mug of beer appeared. He nodded to his blond friend, who remained standing, just behind him.
"You're the sharpshooter?" Lee asked of the young man who joined them. He recalled someone mentioning Tanner's abilities earlier. "What unit were you in?"
"General Peterson's," Vin said somberly, taking a sip of his beer.
"Peterson?" Matt frowned, "He was Reb general, wasn't he?"
"What difference does it make!" Buck's shield whipped out, his voice sharper than intended, "War's been over for five years."
"I'm sorry," Matt said to Vin. "I didn't mean anything by it."
"I know," Vin reassured, then turned to the red-faced rogue, "It's okay, Bucklin... blood sheds red on both sides."
"Nicely stated," The General nodded, "Excuse me for prying, young man, but... General Peterson's outfit were a team of elite snipers. You're so young..."
"Didn't nobody care 'bout that... on either side I reckon. I marched past some dead blue... yankees," he corrected, "young as twelve and thirteen. I didn't start out in his outfit, but he found out pretty quick."
"How good were you?" Bobby inquired, intrigued.
"I've never seen better," Chris Larabee stated and saw Vin turn his head sideways. The men who rode with Chris during the war knew just how much those words meant and now looked at the young stranger with new eyes.
"Reckon ya used up yer three words fer the day, Larabee..." he warned, clearly uncomfortable.
"Hey Buck, ya wanna finish that sandwich?" J.D. broke the silence, "Some of us want a slab of cake."
"Slab?" Vin laughed, "Guess I better fetch a plate, 'fore the kid eats all the cake." He stood and went to move by Buck, who had taken a huge bite of the tasty sandwich. His face grew serious as he bent down, close to Buck's ear. "Sure was nice of Mr. McGowen to donate one of his pigs fer the party. Reckon ya met some of his kin today... sure was cute little critters, dressed up in them purty scarves..."
"Aw, hell..." Buck swallowed hard and coughed, pushing the plate away as a mental image of the pigs adorned with bright red, blue and green kerchiefs scorched his brain. "Goddammit Vin!" he swatted the nimble body, who moved quickly away, laughing.
Chris took Vin's empty chair and looked up a few minutes later and saw Vin wolfing down a sandwich. The tracker wiped his mouth and moved towards the table of gifts, his blue eyes skirting the pile. Chris caught his gaze and moved his green eyes to the left and tilted his head. Vin nodded and moved, finally finding the gift which he'd worked so hard on. Chris's brows drew together as he watched Vin reclaim the gift and disappear behind a partition. He kept up with the bawdy conversation and noticed after fifteen minutes, Vin hadn't returned. Mary's voice drew him away from the field of vision.
"Buck, maybe you could cut your cake and then open some gifts?" she suggested, "I think some of the people who live outside town will be leaving soon."
"Oh sure, Mary, I'm sorry..." Buck jumped up and walked to the table where the cake was. "This is too pretty to eat."
"No it isn't," J.D. disagreed. "...it's chocolate and has buttercream icing... my favorite."
"Well, that's real generous of you, Kid, considering it's my birthday!" Buck jostled the youth, and cut a large piece. "Here, now quit buggin' me..."
Chris moved away from the throng of guests and behind the partition. Vin was busy, huddled over his gift. The blond walked closer and waited until his friend was done. Then he rested his hand on Vin's shoulder and appraised the effort.
"You done good, Cowboy."
Vin sighed, shrugged and stood up. "We'll see..." he hoped, sliding the gift back onto the table.
"Mule Pass?" Chris asked, when Vin's hand hovered over a small rectangular package poorly wrapped in brown paper.
"Yeah," Vin nodded, "Fergot about it, ordered it in Salerno," he paused, rubbing his shoulder for real, it did ache tonight. "...seems like a long time ago... anyhows, it was supposed t'come last week, but got fouled up. Amos fergot t'get it at Mule Pass..."
"Who the hell wrapped it?" Chris frowned at the awful mess.
"I did!" Vin snarled, eyeing the humorous eyes of the blond. "Shut up, Larabee!"
"You look like shit, Vin..." Chris appraised of the shadowed face and bleary eyes.
"Feel like it, tonight," Vin agreed, flopping in a chair and lifting his head as a breeze sailed through. "...tired t'the bone. Aw, hell, I lost m'beer..."
"Stay put." Chris shoved him back down and wandered over to the bar.
Buck's gifts were many and varied; he was truly moved by the generosity of the group. "This one don't have a note, Buck," J.D. suggested, giving a brown parcel to the guest of honor. His hazel eyes narrowed when the paper fell away and revealed a fine leather book, with gold edges on the pages. "Tales of the... the... Buck move your hand..." J.D. complained.
"Tales of the Round Table." Buck finshed, his trembling hand stroking each fine embossed letter. His emotions sailed through clearly in his voice and his eyes, as they met the giver's. He flipped the cover and then smiled softly. "Thanks Vin, it's beautiful."
"How'd you know it's from Vin?" J.D. asked, peering over Buck's shoulder.
"He signed it..." Buck whispered, eyeing the fine drawing inside the flap of two victorius knights at the front of a cave, standing next to the head of a dragon.
"Signed it? Where?"
"Here," Buck said, tapping his chest. "Damn it's getting warm in here..." he sighed, giving the group a small chuckle. He composed himself as J.D. handed him a box tied with string.
"Wow, all the way from Delaware," the youth proclaimed.
"Delaware?" Buck frowned and slit the strings, taking out a letter that was folded inside. "Hey, it's from my Aunt Boom Boom."
"Aunt Boom Boom!" a chorus repeated, then burst into laughter.
"Buck, you had an Aunt Boom Boom?" Josiah inquired, blue eyes twinkling.
"Everybody should have one... she helped raise me, was my Ma's best friend."
"Oh." J.D. nodded.
"...that kinda boom boom..." Nate agreed, biting back a smile.
"She's a fine woman..." Buck argued, folding the letter up and opening the box.
"Hey, Buck, that's a beauty," Chris whistled, eyeing the fine craftsmanship of the silver watch on a new fob. "Looks like an antique..."
"It... it..." Buck popped the watch open and read the inscription, then flipped the letter open. "She's been sick for a couple months, couldn't come out to give it to me. It was her brother's... my father's... he died before... he never knew about me."
The group grew silent and somber, suddenly uncomfortable. "Well now you have no excuse for being tardy for duty, noctural and otherwise," Ezra soothed, giving them a tension breaking chuckle.
More gifts followed, including a new rifle from Nathan and Josiah, a saddle from Chris, Ezra and J.D. and then Buck got another shock. He opened a small square box and read the small note first.
"Happy Birthday Marshal," Buck read aloud, "Hey, it's from Colt and Mary."
"She's been a little under the weather and Colt didn't think she was up to a long ride." Nate supplied, of the wire sent a few days before. "She really wanted to come."
"She's okay isn't she?" Buck's head spun around to the healer.
"She's fine, Buck," Chris supplied, "I met Eddie at the Fort a few days ago. Colt sent him out with that and a letter from Mary. I'll give it to you later."
"Wow, would you look at that!" J.D. exclaimed, "It's a badge... no a buckle."
"It's the Marshal's badge," Vin said thickly, eyeing the familiar piece of silver, which was now a belt buckle. "Sure is nice..."
"Beautiful," Ezra agreed.
"You know what," Buck marveled, "Them two are real special... real special."
His fingers caressed the fine silver. "It's a damn fine gift."
"Speaking of which," J.D. took a large burlap bag from the table, "You have one left... no card..." he supplied, eyeing the large, leather bound book in Buck's hands.
Chris's panther-like movement went unnoticed, as he blocked Vin's exit. The younger man kept backing up as Buck unwrapped the gift. Vin halted when his slow backward motion hit a black wall. Chris saw the uncertainty in the anxious, wide eyes and silenced all fears with one look. Vin's deep exhale went right through him.
Buck cocked his head and opened the book, which appeared to be an artist's sketch book. His breath caught at the first image, an exceptionally well drawn figure of himself, hands on hips, the star sitting proudly on his chest. One by one, he turned the pages, every breathtaking image scoring him deeply inside and causing his heart to swell. Renderings of the ordeal in Fanning and the desert caused his gut to clench. Then the image that caused his eyes to well up. A battered, bruised, ragged body pulling a wounded man on a travois on his shoulders.
"Oh God..." he choked, tracing the delicate memory with trembling fingers. "Oh God... Vin..."
"Vin?" J.D.'s head flew up. "You drew these?" His voice was full of awe, as were the wide hazel eyes.
"You, my good man, are wasting your talents," Ezra appraised of the fine drawings, "A gift like that isn't something to be hidden. You could make a fortune in San Francisco or St. Louis."
"Got all I need right here." Vin silenced Ezra and the gambler's gold tooth glinted as his smile was born.
More images presented themselves and then the one that caused the big man's heart to break open and threatened to spill his busy eyes. It was a wall of a building, and a hand reaching through the barred windows. Another hand reached for it, the only thing visible was the arm, and part of the chest and a silver star. Bendix... Buck inhaled painfully as the memory of that day slammed into him. A miracle... that's what it was... finding Vin in that hellhole and their escape afterwards.
"I... can't... Vin it's... My God... " Buck stammered slowly, taking several minutes.
"You want slow down, Buck," Chris teased, "We're only catching every other word."
"How many hours?" Buck wondered aloud.
"Days..." Chris corrected, "...cleaned me out... ate like an army."
"Yer a cheap old bastard, Larabee!" Vin shot back, grinning. He moved forward, worried about Buck's cracking exterior. One look at the dark blue shimmering eyes told him his gift was worth every hour he'd spent creating it. He paused in front of Buck and rested a hand on the shaken man's right shoulder. "Happy Birthday, Marshal. I ain't never gonna ferget what ya done fer me... never."
"Me either, Tanner." Buck choked, handing the book to J.D. and embracing the former bounty.
"Hey, this is half-empty," J.D. complained, flipping through the blank pages.
"No, Kid, it's only half-full." Buck stated with a sharp exhale and saw the shaggy head before bob and the Texan show a half grin. He saw now, what Chris did, a bone-weary body, a face full of shadows and pain in the blue eyes. "You look like shit, Tanner."
"Fuck y'all, Bucklin!" Vin hissed, smiling wearily. He didn't duck when the large hand clamped across his shoulder and led him back to the table. He settled in at the very end, with his boots propped on an empty chair. He slid down low and rested his head against the back of the chair, relaxing as Buck's warm voice and animated hands told yet another yarn. Right now, he wouldn't trade his seat on the hard chair supporting his aching body, for all the gold at Fort Dix.
"Give ya a hand, Marshal?"
"Hey Vin!" Buck turned from the front of the deserted dining room. It was into the wee hours of the morning, when the last of the revelers finally staggered back to the hotel. Now the large room was in the process of being cleaned up. "The manager said there's plenty of food left, he's gonna put it out again at lunchtime." Buck noted, eyeing Vin's haggard appearance. "Didn't think I'd see you until this afternoon sometime."
Vin just shrugged and moved closer, eyeing the treasures Buck was packing away. "Ya sure got a nice bit o'loot."
"Yeah, how about that?" Buck agreed, "I got here early, thought I'd tote it over to my room. I'm still in shock, I think." Buck raked his hand through his mussed up hair. "I can't believe it..."
"Yeah, them eyes o'yers is speakin' real clear... looks painful." Vin teased of the red orbs.
"Hah!" Buck shook his head and winced, "That's nothing compared to the drums in my head. A night to remember."
"Sure was." Vin agreed, "Them fellers are okay, seem like good men."
"Yeah," Buck agreed, "I made one trip already, this is the last of it." He handed Vin a pile and they quietly made their way to Buck's room. Vin set the boxes down on a table, and saw the sketch book opened on Buck's bed. He dropped his head as his friend appeared next to him.
"I wanted t'write somethin' inside... even got out one o'Chris's poetry books... but m'scribin' looks like chickens with a wicked itch."
Buck wasn't expecting that and burst out laughing hard, so much so, he couldn't get his breath and his contagious laughter caused the amused Texan to laugh also. But the sight of the book and the page it was opened to, sobered Buck up quickly. When he moved to the bed and gazed at the sketchbook, his throat tightened. He moved past the image out by a river, just after he pulled Vin from the coffin. It showed Buck tenderly ministering to the fevered man and calming his fears. He flipped the pages past more pictures, until he spotted the last entry. It showed Chris, himself, the Major and the rest gathered around the table the night before.
"That where you skittered off to?" He asked of Vin's disappearance the night before. He saw the quick smile and nod and shook his head. "Sure do live up to your name, Slick." He took a deep breath and turned back. "Seems that last night I had something caught in my throat." Buck turned to face Vin, "I want you to know how much this means to me Vin," he whispered painfully, picking up the book. "Some people, most people, will only see lead images, drawings on paper. That ain't what I see." Buck's voice dropped, "I see blood and sweat and tears and a broken body. I see heart and soul and a spirit soaring... It takes my breath away, Vin."
It was the right choice and Vin swallowed painfully. He felt his face flush. Now, listening to Buck's moving speech, he was proud of every line he drew. For when he made those memories, it was from blood, sweat and tears and full of soul, from his heart. Buck not only understood it, he felt it, deep down inside and that made it worth every bit of pain.
"Kinda like Miss Liberty, huh?" Vin teased, his eyes crinkling in mirth.
"Ouch!" Buck winced, "That's playing dirty, Vin!"
"I knew ya'd see it was more than paper..." Vin commented and saw Buck's emotion rising again.
"Oh yeah..." Buck whispered.
"Guess yer tired," Vin moved to the door, "I'll be movin' along. I'm headin' out t'the Pond t'do some fishin'."
"You want some company?" Buck raised his head and smiled.
"Ya sure?" Vin cocked his head. "What about yer friends?"
"Nobody will see the whites of their eyes before noon," Buck vowed, "Besides, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with." He paused, resting a hand on the smaller man's blue shirt. "... friend..."
"Well," Vin shuffled, trying to rid himself of the band on his chest. "Ya gotta promise ya ain't gonna be spoutin' them tall tales... ye'll scare the fish..."
"I'll woo 'em right into your basket," he said of the ratty basket Vin took fishing with him. He grabbed his things and followed Vin to the livery.
They had the bank of the waterway to themselves and Vin set his pole up. Buck stretched out on the grass, easing his head onto his folded jacket. The slight breeze and the warm sun, accented by the gurgling water, caused his mind to wander.
"You ever wonder about it all, Vin... I mean I do..." Buck asked, "When I got back from Salt Flats, after... when we thought you were dead," his voice dropped. "I had a real hard time, it was like I was drowning. I couldn't sleep for the nightmares and the days were worse."
"I know." Vin sat down next to Buck and offered him the canteen. "...felt it right here." He tapped his stomach. "Like a cannon ball was sittin' in there. Weren't no reason fer me t'still be breathin'."
Buck hitched himself up on his elbows and took a swig, eyeing the emotion on Vin's face. "Shot in the head and the gut, trapped in the desert... didn't make any sense." Buck sighed, "How'd you get over it?"
Vin stared at the blue sky and the puffy white clouds that dotted the heavens. He took several minutes to think, before turning back to meet Buck's intense stare. "Chris helped me... and I looked in here," He tapped chest and then eyed the sky again. "and I put m'faith in the man upstairs."
"Just like that?" Buck sat up and toyed with a blade of grass. He saw Vin nodding and then the younger man slid onto his back and closed his eyes. Buck watched him for some time, his soft breathing was like music. He eyed the river and the sky and let the purest gift of all become absorbed and a part of him. He glanced at the lean body, sleeping soundly beside him and smiled, feeling the hole inside himself closing. Somewhere in the course of the conquest to slay the Dragon, Vin Tanner had become more than a friend. He was a part of Buck now, bound by blood, sweat and tears. He sighed and let his tired body rest, thanking God for his precious gift.
As the lazy morning wore on, Vin's basket began to get full. Buck was snoring softly, and Vin smiled at the book next to the contented body. He moved Buck's arm and opened it to the next blank page. It only took a few minutes to capture the moment; two friends on the banks of a river. The tip of his tongue darted out, as he carefully printed three small words under the rendering. Satisfied, he eyed his latest memory and then closed the book, placing it near Buck.
Later that night, when the town was dark and quiet, Buck was sitting on his bed flipping through the book. His brows furrowed when he saw the new picture. The three scrawled words caused his handsome face to split into a huge grin. He traced the image and the words with his finger and recalled the quiet morning they'd spent. He moved to the window and caught sight of the tracker walking towards his wagon.
"Goodnight Tanner," Buck called down, causing the body to turn.
"'night Marshal," the drawl came back, giving him another smile. He moved back to the bed, leaving the book open on the table. His gaze caught the three words and he was once again amazed at the depths of the soul of the blue-eyed poet. He thought on those words as he drifted off to sleep.
'The Healing Place'.
THE END.
THANKS TO ALL OF YOU WHO CAME ALONG FOR THE RIDE!
Page | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |
Return to Deirdre's Fic Archive | Return to Lady Angel's Library
