Setting: Old West
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fanfiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters, settings or song references. I don't own the characters. This story is strictly for entertainment. No monetary gain will be made from anything contained in this story.
Author's Note: This story was written for Julie's birthday. Happy Birthday Julie!
The wind howling outside and the midday sun creeping into the room, caused him to shudder and pull the quilt up to his chin. The horrid choking cough turned him sideways, his hand fumbled for a cloth. The effort left him breathless, sweat seeping from every pore. His eyes were hot, his head pounding and his throat felt like it was lined with shards of glass. Another series of coughs wracked his body, a hand appeared with a new cloth. He grabbed it and expelled, tossing it in the can next to the bed. Two hands this time, easing him up, wiping his face with a cold cloth. A raspy drawl urging him to drink. He gulped the water, choking on most of it, spilling down the front of his nightshirt. He heard the footsteps again, relentless and restless, followed by a string of soft curses.
"As if it weren't bad enough that I've succombed to this horrid malaise," Ezra moaned, shuddering and pulling the blanket higher. "Must you torture me further with your childish tirade."
Vin ignored the fevered patient and continued his futile journey. He eyed the walls of the clinic as he turned at the end of the narrow room. He glared at the same cracks in the wall, glowered at the same peeling paint on the door and kicked the same unfortunate cot.
"This exercise in futility that you insist on maintaining is interfering with my nap time...or is it my midday meal time?" Ezra frowned, his fuzzy brain trying to navigate through blurry eyes.
"It's gonna be time fer yer eulogy if ya don't shut the fuck up..." Vin paused over Standish's cot and unleashed a fraction of his pent up fury.
Nathan pushed the large text book away and rubbed his bloodshot eyes. The weary fingers then moved to the throbbing temples and he rubbed them without relief. With a heavy sigh, he pushed his chair back and looked at the list in front of him. He didn't have to eye the clock on the wall next to his tiny desk. He knew ten minutes had passed, Vin's boots told him that. He watched the frantic blue eyes scouring the walls and he stood.
"Ya fixed all the shelves, ya cleaned and restocked my cabinet, ya sorted the stuff on my desk...there's nothing left to do."
"I want out..." Vin clenched his fists, while his blue eyes screamed at the healer. "I can't stand this...ya gotta get me outta here, Nate."
"Ya think I like this?" Nate rebelled, "I ain't slept in three days and hearing that ungrateful mouth cussin' and fussin' every ten minutes is driving me mad. I done told ya the rules...it's a quarantine, Vin."
"How much longer?"
"I told ya!" Nate roared, towering over the irate Texan. "Hell I told ya about fifteen times today!" He glared at the clock and then at the pacer, "Eleven days, six hours and seven minutes." His voice lowered to a dangerous pitch and he raised his left hand and pointed to the vacant bed. "Now get your ass on that cot before I get some rope and tie ya down!"
"Hell," Vin's face screwed up as he turned away, "Best get yer mourin' suit and have 'siah pick out a nice verse," he lamanted of his fate.
"Your iminent expiration is music to my ears," Ezra coughed painfully, his pounding head tired of the endless tracker's tirades. "If I had a pistol..."
"Shut the hell up, Ezra or I'll take a pilla t'yer face when yer nappin'!" Vin shot back, then kicked the wall when a burst of loud laughter emerged from outside on the stairs.
"...mournin' suits and funeral verses," Buck chuckled, slapping J.D.'s leg. The two eavesdroppers were just outside the clinic's door, sitting on the top step. Tanner's tirade slid easily through the crack in the wall. "Hey, Vin! I'll take up a nice collection for you."
"Reckon yer more 'an qualified," Vin hollered, punching the wall, "...since yer lazy ass is real good at collectin' splinters."
"Buck!" Nate shoved Vin's wiggling body back as he tried to get out the door. "Ya better not be parked on my step when I leave. I ain't got enough problems with the two worst patients west of the Mississippi? I need you two imbeciles addin' to my misery?"
"Sorry Nate!" Buck called out, scampering down the steps, the chuckling sheriff right behind him.
Nate pushed Vin onto the cot and glared down at him. "I will only say this once. I have had it up to here," He cut a hand across his throat, "with your endless temper tantrums. I got other patients to see to and I can't do that because I got a full-grown, drawlin' baby that's fryin' my last nerve. Ya gonna act like a child, then ya get treated like one. Josiah's gonna babysit ya while I see to some folks who really need my attention."
"Mornin'" Josiah called out and entered the small room. He heard the beginning of the latest storm from Buck and caught the newest action in person. He was aware the Vin was frustrated. The tracker didn't like to be inside for any great length of time to begin with. Being stuck in a small clinic for two weeks for a quarantine had taken the Vin Tanner they knew away and left a jumping pile of nerves in it's place.
"Got some fried chicken and potatoes Vin...Apple walnut pie and fresh cream..." Josiah tempted and found a small smile, as the young man's head lifted.
The disgruntled inmate lifted his nose and sniffed, then rubbed his flat stomach. "Well, I reckon I could eat..."
"Hah!" Ezra groaned, the scent of the food causing his head to swim. "Other than complaining, it's all you do." He coughed again, filling the cotton cloth and crumpling it up. He tossed it in the can next to bed. It wouldn't be there long, Nathan would take it outside to the ashcan where he kept a low fire. He tried to find a comfortable position, but couldn't. The endless coughing left his throat raw and it felt thick, nearly choking him at times.
"Vin!" Nate smacked his arm as an explative began to form on the snarling lip. "That's enough!" He shoved the brooding bounty hunter towards the table by the window, where Josiah left the tray. He nodded his thanks to the preacher, and lifted a forkful of fried potatoes. From the corner of his eye, he saw Josiah walk outside with Nate. He heard the low, muffled tones and the food turned sour. His eyes flicked to the southerner, who was red-faced from coughing. He saw Nate talking to Buck and they bothed looked up at the clinic. The uneasiness in his stomach flared up, something was wrong. He knew Nate didn't lie to him, but his gut instinct told him there was a large piece of the puzzle being held back. As he ate his lunch, his mind went back in time, replaying again how this nightmare began.
The dusty road was spotted with disinterested saquaros and a smattering of palo verde trees. It stretched out featureless and rather flat, giving the trailing rider of the tired duo, cause to frown. He reined in his mount, lifted his hand and wiped the perspiration from his brow. His jade eyes narrowed, eyeing the buckskin clad, slim young man in front of him. His own scarlett jacket was already neatly folded in front of him, his white shirt damp with sweat.
"What's the problem now?" the cranky voice called back, "I swear, Ezra, I'dda sooner taken a pack of nuns and made better time..."
"That's the thanks I get for my misplaced concern for your welfare," the conman slid from his horse, took a long draw from his canteen and glared openly at the nonplussed blue eyes. The fact that the lean Texan was barely damp made him even more cross.
"How's that?" Vin Tanner leaned over his saddle horn and squinted down at his unlikely travelling companion.
"You're not sweating and that's not normal..."
"Reckon them silk drawers yer so fond o'wearin' ain't exactly normal neither," Vin rebuffed, his lips twitching as the gambler flushed. "Look, I'm tired o'waitin' on ya. Ya squat yer ass here as long as ya want. There's a lake up ahead, good spot t'make camp..."
"There's a town less than five miles south from this 'Eden'." Standish resumed his place in the saddle. "I've taken the liberty of wiring ahead for a room. There is only one Inn in San Carlos and small gambling hall..."
"Ya don't say," Vin's wry comment was puntuated by an eye roll. He turned his horse and shook his head. "I'm gonna stop by the lake and wash the dust off m'bones...won't be the same without ya..." He wagged his eyebrows and saw a single Standish eyebrow arch.
"As difficult as it is to pry myself away from such a tempting offer," the green-eyed man drolled, "Alas, I'm forced to pass up your invite. Should you decide to rejoin the civilized masses..."
"Yeah..yeah..." Vin turned away, then glared back at the glinting gold toothed grin. "Ya keep yer crooked ass outta jail, Ez, I ain't got time t'bail ya out. We're already two days late gettin' back t'town."
"Something for you to keep in mind before our next sojourn into Hades..."
"Ain't but two of us here, Ez...quit spittin' up the dictionary..."
"Would there be man-eating creatures living in this lake?"
"Hell no..."
"Mores the pity..."
"Reckon y'ell be runnin' int'a them in town..." Vin shot back, "Best be savin' some o'that wad in yer boot for some of that itchin' cream. Reckon the sawbones outta have that flowery shit yer so fonda..."
"Excuse me?" Ezra narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the smug face that disappeared under the large slouch hat. "May all the asps find yer ass too tempting to turn away..." He retorted, hearing the Texan laugh as he rode off.
San Carlos was a nice enough town. Two mines in the hills kept the town busy, as well as traffic from the river. It was late when the weary Texan left his horse outside of the Saloon. The swim in the cold lake invigorated him. He took a short nap and used the beautiful sunset as inspiration for the entry into the small leather journal he kept. Two short poems later, he left the crimson and fushia sky behind him. Had Ezra's reputation not proceeded him, the tracker would have much preferred to dine under the stars and sleep under the open sky. They'd delivered the prisoners to the jail wagon in good time. The reward money was wired back to town and the two peacekeepers followed at a slow pace. The southerner wasn't used to the pace that Vin pushed himself on. With any luck, they'd be home in two days.
He sighed, peeked through the batwing doors, letting his cool eyes linger on every crack, corner and crevice in the smokey room. Not seeing any threats, he entered. He disappeared at the end of the bar, sliding a coin down the counter and gaining a bowl of stew and a brew. Ezra glanced over briefly, making eye contact before luring another sucker into a game. There were three players at the table with Standish. Two looked like locals, they dusty attire and leathery skin bespoke many hours working in the sun. One was a newcomer, his clothes stood out like a sore thumb. He had' back East' written all over him. Fancy suit and tie, slicked down red hair, nice pocketwatch. Vin hid his smile, as Ezra's eyes didn't miss the watch or the tremble in the man's hands.
"Gonna be a long night," he muttered, taking his beer to a corner table, in the dark corner of the room. Slouching down, he tilted his head back, letting the oversized hat cover his features. From here, he could draw on anybody taking offense at Ezra and the door was close by. Hours went by and he grew weary, dozing off. Twice he glared at Ezra, when his silver tongue damn near got the gambler shot by the two locals. He saw the stranger slide a pile of coins at Ezra and the southerner pour the man a drink.
"A pleasure sir," Ezra toasted, "It's not often I get to parley with a gentlemen. Harvard you say?"
"Yes, I'm an engineer, working for the railroad. I'm a few days ahead of schedule. I don't have to be in San Francisco for two more weeks."
"Ah...now that is a city...a true gem..."
"Come on Ez..." Vin huffed, eyes watching the two losing miners, who lingered at the bar. The bottle they shared was disappearing fast. He stood and made his way to the bar, after seeing the younger of the two, let his hand ride on the gun at his waist.
"I wouldn't..." he warned, introducing the mare's leg. "Ya best be gettin' on yer way, boys..."
"Back off, half-breed, it ain't your business..."
"Neither is blowin' yer balls through the floor, but I'm gettin' the itch...now ya take that other jackass and get goin'..." Vin warned, not liking the look the pair were giving Ezra. Several minutes went by, before they backed off and staggered outside.
"Problem?" Ezra sauntered over to the bar, flicking a miniscule piece of lint from his coat.
"Nah..." Vin shrugged, "We was just parlayin' with them drunks..."
"We?" Ezra cocked his head, watching the blue eyes crinkle.
"Me and m'girl..." Vin grinned, drawing his coat back and patting his mare's leg.
"You make a charming couple," he grinned, "A bottle my good man..." he nodded to the bartender. "Brandy..."
"...s'right nice o'ya, Ez. buyin' us a drink..." Vin snatched the bottle and took two glasses.
"Us?" Ezra inquired, watching the nimble fingers pour and drain both shots. "Oh...you and the lady in question are quite welcome," he offered, realizing what Vin had done. The nose wrinkled up and the bottle was thrust back at him.
"Don't care fer it..." Vin decided, "Ya can buy me dinner and we'll call it even. What room's ours?" Vin headed outside and across the street to the hotel.
"Ours?" Ezra protested, taking his bottle and jogging to catch up to the lean striding younger man. "What makes you think I'm sharing your fleas?"
"...place up the street has a sign out front...steaks an inch thick...taters too..." Vin continued.
"More to the point," Ezra drew his key out and unlocked the door, "Why am I buying supper? If I recall correctly, I've been turning over quite a bit of silver, keeping your belly filled."
"If I recall correctly," Vin parrotted, laying on both beds, before choicing the one near the window. "Ye'd be linin' the undertaker's pockets right about now..."
"Point taken," Ezra conceded. "Was is necessary to leave a flea parade on both beds?"
"Hell yeah...only way to pick out which one suits me..."
"Suits you? Oh, now why didn't I think of that? By all means, you take the better bed. I'm just the fool footing the bill..."
"It's a wonder yer gums don't get t'bleedin'...hell, ya bang 'em together enough." Vin walked over to the closet, shaking his head in disbelief. "What the hell did ya buy another coat fer? Jesus, we'll be home in a couple days?"
"To find a Chevalier in this armpit of a hamlet is a miracle..."
"A who?" Vin eyed the bright green coat with disdain.
"A designer of true taste and talent in New Orleans. The proprietor of the store across the street happened to visit the Crescent City only a few months ago. It was a steal at five dollars..."
"Fer five dollars they oughtta lay ya out in it..." Vin headed towards the door, then turned back, wearing a cocky grin. "Reckon that fella in New Orleans ain't wearin' fancy rags with yer name on the collar. Don't make a lick o'sense..."
"You're in no position to be critical..." Ezra followed him outside into the hall.
"Got m'own de..si..ner.." Vin paused, dusted his hide coat off and wore an devilish smile. "...a gen..u..ine...Tanner. Course it ain't fer sale..." he added sympathetically, widening his smile as Ezra grinned back at him.
"Mr. Tanner, at times you leave me speechless..."
"Ain't possible," Vin settled into the chair, taking his hat off, "I got a notion ya was spoutin' nonsense when ya got birthed. Hey...they got chocolate cake...damn..."
Although he hadn't known this young Texan long, he had a charm as unique as each sunrise. The more time he spent in his company, the easier he smiled. The awe that shown in his blue eyes the day before when they saw a fawn and doe near the river was as profound as the deadly sniper who so easily and naturally could take a man down at incredulous distance with amazing precision. Of the group of men fate tossed together in a dusty town, this engaging young man had penetrated his armor effortlessly. There was that smile again...
"I miss somethin'?" Vin eyed the gold tooth glinting from the conman's grin.
"Highly unlikely," Ezra returned, ready to enjoy his meal and the wry commentary from his dinner companion.
It was almost nine a.m. when Vin trudged up the boardwalk. He flinched, backpedaled and did a double take. The image through the window better not be what it seemed.
"Aw, hell..." he muttered, retracing his steps and entering the dusty saloon.
"Good Morning," Ezra nodded to the brooding, unshaven face glaring at him. "I took the liberty of..."
"We're leavin'..." Vin interrupted, "...let's go..."
"You, Sir, are not my father and I am not in short pants. I 'come' and 'go' as I please." Standish replied curtly. He was tired and irritable and wasn't about to take orders from the disgrunted tracker. "Furthermore, I got little sleep last night, thanks your incessant coughing. I intend to reclaim those lost hours here this evening."
"Weren't m'fault that room was crawlin' with dust," Vin defended.
"...or that something crawled out of that less than pristine lake with you..." the jade eyes accused.
Vin's mouth formed a grim line at the cold, caustic tone. His eyes went from the deck of cards Standish was shuffling, to the other fancy dressers hovering around the room. They weren't the usual crowd for a saloon and he saw some of them signing something at a table in the corner. Silver passed from their hands to a weasely, greasy looking man. He, in turn, pointed them to a particular table.
"A tourament," the cool gambler answered the puzzled eyes. The body turned back, hands on slim hips, and stared at him with distaste."...for professionals, of course..."
"Fine," Vin spat back in anger. He caught the nuance of the southerner's words and misread the implication. "See ya back in town..."
With that he turned and was gone. Ezra felt a brief pang of guilt, knowing Vin misread him. But the gavel on the table brought his attention back into the room. The tournament was about to commence.
"Dammit!" Vin climbed off his horse, took his hat off and brushed the sweat from his eyes. His gaze at the sky told him it was midafternoon. The rockslide in the path ahead ended his short route to home. He took a long draw from his canteen and cast his eyes back on the ground he'd covered. He could backtrack a few miles, cross over the river and take the longer route. Sighing in frustration, he let the tired mount rest and graze. His growling stomach told him he'd not eaten since breakfast. Rummaging in the saddlebags, he drew out a napkin. He sat down and ate three biscuits and a small piece of ham. A pear ended the meal and chucking the core away, he began his journey back.
It was three p.m. when the card company who was hosting the poker challenge called a five hour recess. This would allow the gamblers that were left to rest, eat supper and return refreshed for the final contests later. It was none to soon for the tired conman. He stood, stretched his back and nodded to the three men seated with him.
"Gentlemen...until this evening..."
Although he was hungry, his exhaustion won over. He decided to take a nap first, then eat a light supper. He was walking down the street, ready to cross, when a rough hand clamped on his shoulder.
"Hold it right there fancypants..."
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Ezra eyed the two roughnecks and recognized them from the night before. They were the two locals he'd won money from, the same ones who tried to shoot him.
"Where is he?"
"...and you would be referring to?" He hedged, sizing them up.
"That half-breed bastard who tried to shoot me last night."
Ezra stared at the wad of tobacco that was sent out with the end of the sentence. He wrinkled his nose in distaste at the foul offering on his boot.
"Which brings me back to my original question." He stared cooly at the venomous pair, " and moreover, why would I know?"
"Ya sure seemed cozy enough last night," his stench-ridden friend replied, emphasizing his point by using the barrel of his gun to part the buttons of Ezra's new coat. "Yer the reason he was ready to plug me with that funny gun..."
"Professional courtesy." Ezra pushed the barrel of the gun away. "We crossed paths yesterday afternoon on the road outside town. He was in dire straights and I was of great assistance to him. He was merely repaying the debt. Now if you'll excuse me..."
"I told ya, Zeke..." The larger, tobacco-chewing brute shoved his smelly companion. "That murderin' half-breed bastard don't run with the likes of him." He jerked his thumb at Ezra.
The conman's eyes never changed, but his mind clicked. The word 'murdering' struck him hard. Had they known about Vin's past the night before, they wouldn't have waited until now to seek him out.
"We got business with him," the barrel-chested man answered the question on the well-dressed man's face.
"Business?" Ezra's voice remained neutral. "Really..." he drolled, "I'm sure if he's from this quaint hamlet, you'll be able to seek him out and complete your transaction."
"It ain't local business..."
"Yeah...it's Texas business," Zeke grinned, "Iffen the damn sheriff didn't throw us in jail last night...we'dda never knew who he was..."
"Shut up Zeke!" the larger man smacked the other one hard, glaring at him for his loose lips. Then he turned back to the gambler. "He say where he was headed?"
"Hmmm." Ezra frowned, stroked his chin and pretended to be lost in thought. "He did mention Nogales...but I wouldn't be able to state for certain if that is where..."
"That's fine..." the brute produced a gun, "we're grateful..You forget all about us and I'll leave them pretty teeth of yours in your mouth."
"An acceptable agreement," Ezra nodded, leaving his game face on and heading nonchallently into the hotel. More clues answered his nagging question. Undoubtedly, while they were in jail, they saw Vin's wanted poster. He sank into the bed, depositing his boots, coat and shirt on the nightstand. The shades were drawn, basking the room in a shadowy darkness. It reminded him of Vin...he liked the shadows, preferring the company of the ghosts that lived there. Sleep didn't find him, and his exhaustion mounted. He's a grown man...well able to care for himself. He'd ridden alone for quite some time with that bounty on his head. He punched the pillow and shoved his head down again. Vin wasn't anywhere near Nogales...those two buffoons wouldn't find him. The sly tracker could outfox anything on two feet. No doubt by now he was halfway home. He doesn't need anybody to watch his back. He sighed, rose, threw the pillow across the room and shoved his boots on, cursing softly.
"That scruffy tracker will be my demise..." he argued at his image in the mirror. Taking his saddlebags and rolling up his clothing in his bedroll, he secured it with leather cord and headed for the door. The apology to the contest sponsor and the loss of the prize money seem to lessen, as the image of Vin's bullet-ridden body being spit on by the tobacco-infested brute came into view. He climbed on his horse and headed out of town, seeking the blue-eyed sharpshooter.
"Thanks, Gloria," Chris Larabee nodded, taking the burlap sack outside and tying his purchases to his saddlehorn. He pushed his hat back, eyeing the approaching twlight and the empty rocker where the lean Texan should be sitting and smirking at him. He squinted at the empty street and ambled over to the saloon. Buck and J.D. were eating dinner. Inez was going over the ledgers at a corner table. The rest of the room was vacant. He sighed, nodded to the pretty proprietress that he was taking a bottle. She nodded back and watched him flip a coin onto the table in front of her.
"Gracias," she smiled at the handsome blond, "He is not back yet?" she asked, knowing full well what the concern was in the green eyes. He picked up a shot glass and sat down next to their youthful sheriff.
"No." Chris took the first shot fast, then lingered over the second.
"Hey, maybe we should wire some of the towns on the way back," J.D. teased. "Vin don't have a whole lotta patience when it comes to Ezra. It's been over a week...that would try the patience of a saint."
"Vin can handle himself," Buck took a large bite of the chicken pot pie in front of him. "and he's better with Ezra than the rest of us. The wire said they'd be a little late. Most likely Ezra found a hot game..." He saw the restless green eyes looking past the batwing doors. "You heading out?"
"Yeah..." Chris sighed, took a biscuit from J.D.'s plate.
"Hey, that's mine!" the youth protested, until a single, raised sandy eyebrow shot him down. "But uh...I wasn't gonna eat it anyway."
"Why don't you wait a few days, Chris?" Buck inquired, "Vin will be back...he's gonna need some peace and quiet by then." He noted of the horse auction the two had planned to attend. Vin knew horses better than anyone Buck ever met. Chris asked him to travel to a nearby ranch where some fresh stock was for sale.
"Can't afford to wait..." Chris answered, tossed back another shot and corked the glass container. He caressed the neck of the bottle and stood up. "You tell him...I'll see you in a week or so." He nodded to the pair. Vin knew every trail in the area and could catch up to him. Meanwhile, he'd get to the ranch early and pick out his choices.
The crackling amber fire kept the cool night air at bay. The lone figure slept lightly, his gun resting comfortably under his hand. His keen ears picked up the sound of a horse approaching. His eyes became blue slits and his lean fingers curled around the trigger.
"That's far enough," he warned, cocking the gun at the body in the shadows.
"As I live and breathe," Ezra replied, sliding from his horse and taking the saddle off.
Vin replaced his gun and his brows crossed in confusion. He counted the distance from San Carlos and cocked his head.
"Ya lose?"
Ezra smiled at slight rise in the tone of the other's voice. Shock...surprise...at the thought of his losing at that which he was so skilled. He squatted by the fire, warming his hands. For some reason he was quite chilled. He shivered and pulled his coat closer.
Vin was about to prod Ezra some more, still stung by his dismissal from town and by his interrupted sleep. Then he saw the southerner's body shivering and the smooth fingers move twice to press against his throat. He didn't miss the slight grimace. He shook the coffee pot which was on a nearby rock and placed it back over the fire.
"Be hot in a few minutes...I got some rabbit...ya hungry?"
"No thank you...but the coffee will be well appreciated."
"Ya ain't sick, are ya?" Vin moved in closer, studying Erza's expression.
"I'm tired...very tired..." Erza lied, already regretting his cautic words in town that morning. He stood and swayed, eyeing his bedroll nearby.
"I'll get it," Vin hissed as the hot handle of the coffee pot bit his fingers. He poured a mugful and handed it to the shivering body. "Here...toss some o'yer fancy whiskey in there and get yer ass near that fire."
"I'm touched," Ezra teased, trying to use his sarcasm as an apology.
"It ain't that," Vin defended, spreading out the blanket and shoving Ezra on it, "I don't want ya slowin' me down. So finish that and get t'sleep." He moved away to take care of Standish's horse. When he returned a few minutes later, the coffee was drained and Ezra was covered to his chin. He saw the body shivering still and eyed his coat nearby. As he crossed in front of the other, he saw the green eyes following him.
"What are ya starin' at?" he asked.
"Nothing...I didn't mean to disturb you...thank you." Ezra closed his eyes, not comfortable with the now fleeing feeling of angst. Until he'd seen the slim, younger man safe and sound, the nagging fear in his gut bothered him more than the chill he'd picked up.
"Ya ain't bothered me..." Vin snarled, "Had me a nice quiet ride...keepin' myself company. Nobody spittin' up the alphabet at me..." He sat by the fire, as the green eyes slid shut. He frowned at the trembling shoulders under the blanket. He moved again, placing his warm, hide coat over the other man.
"Thank you, Mr. Tanner," Ezra cracked an eye open at the gentle touch, just in time to see the concern in the large blue eyes.
"...s'okay, Ez..." Vin mumbled, "and there ain't no Mister Tanner here..." he paused, watching the jade eyes drooping and adjusting the coat over the gambler. "My friends call me Vin..."
"Goodnight, then," Erza said, lifting his heavy eyes to meet the telling blue ones. "...Vin..." he smiled and found the warmth he'd sought.
Vin yawned, stretched, stood and rubbed the small area at the base of his spine. Flinching, he gathered up some wood and stoked the fire. After the coffee was done, he speared the rabbit and roasted it, leaving it long enough to dig out the last of the biscuits from San Carlos. He soaked the hard baked good in a little coffee to make them edible. Taking the large mug, he yawned again and put the bit sized pieces of meat over the broken up moist bread. He sat down next to his hacking companion and tapped the lump where his shoulder should be.
"Come on Ez..."
"Huh?"
Vin chuckled as the weary body sat up, disgruntled, coughing and irritated.
"Thought fer a minute ya was J.D...." He referred to the dumbfounded single-syllabled response. "It ain't them fancy eggs Inez does fer ya...but it's all I got. Ya best get it down. I got the meat cut up bitty fer ya...."
"Thank you," Ezra nodded, his trembling hands taking the hot mug. He stared at the food for a moment and thought of the simple act mentioned. That Vin had taken the time to make the meal swallowable, knowing his throat was sore. He peered around in the darkness and shivered again, bringing a spoonful of food to his lips. Vin's haggard face and drawn eyes were the result of lack of sleep. Ezra knew his coughing had kept the younger man up. He eyed the neat pile of white sqaures next to his bedroll. "Is that my shirt?" He flinched as the words came through the razor-blades in his throat.
"Yeah..." Vin called back from beyond the campsite. "Ya got t'spittin' up stuff...I made sure it went in the fire."
"Our local healer trained you well," he took more of the food and thought of Nathan Jackson. Anything involving explusion of body fluids, ended up in cotton and in the fire. While there was nothing scientific about his methods, Ezra had seen the results. More established towns with doctors bearing sheepskin on the wall, would scoff at this. Yet, Nate's methods kept most of the contagious illness down to a minimum. His herbal cabinet was second to none as well. He gathered the plants from the surrounding area and traded with the Seminoles for some of their herbs. He also conferred with Ming, the ancient Chinese apothecary on the edge of town. "Why are we up at this ungodly hour?"
"Well I got t'thinkin', Vin emerged from the darkness, his close proximity from the opposite direction of whence he left, caused the other man to jump.
"Must you do that!" Ezra hissed painfully. "I fail to understand how you manuever without your feet touching the ground." He continued to finish his breakfast, then managed to finish the coffee as well.
"That's cause ya ain't lived with the locals," Vin spoke with pride of his years with the Kiowa's and Commanches. "Gotta tell ya, though, Bucklin's real good about sneakin' about in the dark..."
"So would I if I had half the married men in the territory chasing me with a weapon." The southerner admitted, "...practice makes perfect..." He then dissolved into a coughing fit. "I'm not blind..." he grabbed the cloth offered and after his deposit, he tossed it into the fire.
"Anyway," Vin continued, hauling Ezra up and pointing him towards a nearby rock. "Ya sit and rest while I get yer horse ready. Neither of us is sleepin'...sooner we get movin'...sooner yer ass will be Nathan's responsibility."
"Lucky me," Ezra commiserated, watching the quick moving Texan quickly break camp.
It was just after seven a.m. and Ben Thomas was enjoying his second cup of coffee. He smiled as his firstborn, a high-spirited, short-tempered filly with a nose for trouble, stomped her foot in frustration. Her small face screwed up and her lower lip thrust out at him.
"Mornin' Sunshine!" he greeted the blond, wisp of a six-year old. The sky eyes glared at him as the small body settled in at the table. He slid a plate of hot eggs in front of her and suppressed a smile as the tiny nose wrinkled.
"Yuck"
"Callie..." He warned as the hand snaked onto the plate and it appeared to be headed off the table.
"I ain't eatin' 'em..." she defied, lifting her chin.
"You're not eating them," he corrected, buttering a biscuit and placing it next to the outcast eggs.
"That's what I said," she agreed and eyed the cup near her hand. "Why can't I have coffee?"
"You're too short," he chuckled, watching the milk-mustache appear on her upper lip.
"That ain't fair!"
"That isn't fair," he corrected and tapped his fork on her plate, pointing to the eggs.
"See," she piped up, "Even you think that's a dumb rule..."
"Callie, just eat," he shook his head, "please..."
"When's Mama comin' home?" she whined, toying with the now cold, runny mess.
"Not soon enough," he muttered, sighing in frustration. It amazed him that he could run his business in town, manage his staff, negotiate with clients and yet handling his own child was next to impossible. His wife and two small sons were visiting her mother. The only reason his eldest wasn't with them, was that she was being punished. Her willfill, impulsive streak ran strong, the lastest victim was his wife's favorite serving platter. It now was in a pile of pieces, waiting for the destroyer to glue it back together. The tantrum, chin-jutting, defiant stance of 'It wasn't my fault and I ain't fixin' it' ended with the rest of the family's departure. Somehow, he felt he was the one being punished. Someday that spirit in her would serve her well. She was smart as a whip and could outmanuever any adult. But the growing years would be a challenge or leave him bald or both.
"She don't make me eat this." The plate hovered near the edge again.
"Caroline Leah Thomas!" He growled, grabbing the plate just in time. Named for her two grandmothers, the melding of the two names resulted in her own, Callie.
"Well, she don't..."
"She doesn't," he corrected, spooning the eggs onto a spoon and shoving it in the gaping mouth.
"Then how come you do," She muffled, spitting the eggs back.
"You're not leaving this table until you eat those eggs," He issued, taking his empty plate to the metal basin. He would heat some water from the well and dump it over the dishes and pan, adding soap to clean them.
"I get oatcakes usually, with jam..." she tried, eyeing the back of her father's dark head. "...not that you'd know...your already in town..." She watched his back and slid quietly from the table, taking the offensive material out the back door.
"Why...are...we...stopping..." Ezra coughed and looked up as Vin turned his horse back to meet the lagging member.
"Ya need t'drink..." Vin urged, "Ya empty?" he saw the ill man's hand shaking his canteen. "Damn that went fast...Here," he handed Ezra his canteen. "Thomas's place is just up the road, we'll stop there and fill up." He eyed the swaying body and the flushed face, now developing a fever. "Ya sure got a bad cold...We got a long ride t'town...ya up fer it?"
"...you...have...an...alternative..."
"Well," Vin scratched the stubble on his chin, "Chris's place is only a couple hours from here...ya could rest up a bit, I could make ya some broth." He considered this option, knowing with the heat of the day yet ahead of them, the southerner would never make it to town, not as fast as the water was disappearing. The swaying body and half-mast eyes were in need of a bed and town was just too far. If Ezra got a good nap at Chris's, and they past the worst of the heat...they'd make it town by supper.
"Chris..." Ezra frowned, "doesn't...like...company...dropping...by..." Ezra finished his drink and used some of the water to wipe his hot face.
"He ain't home," Vin returned, taking his now empty canteen. "he's likely halfway t'Gratton's place by now..."
"The auction," Ezra's head came up. He'd forgotten that Vin was enlisted to use his expertise to guide the blond's decision. "I'm sorry, Vin..."
"Aw, hell...yer gettin' soft," Vin grinned at the solemn face, "Chris can manage and I'll catch up..." He turned and led the way over the crest to the neat house behind a white picket fence. He found a warm smile for the pretty, little tomboy. Her long blond hair fluttered and two bare feet peeked below her long white nightdress. She was all spunk and fire and her favorite stop in town was at his wagon, usually with Billy Travis. He slid from his horse, near the inside of the yard, motioning for Ezra to not come further. He walked quietly up the path, pausing just behind the little devil.
"Morning, Callie..."
"Vin!" she jumped, dropping the plate. "Uh-oh...Pa's gonna be sore..."
"Ya didn't throw them eggs in the bushes?" His mock-stern voice got the pint-sized culprit's eyes to grow wide.
"'course not," she recovered, thrusting her small chest out with confidence. "Andy did it...I was just gonna clean 'em up."
"Andy?" Vin kept his stern face, thinking on her four-year old brother, "Didn't he go with yer Ma and baby brother Jared t'see yer Grandma and Grandpa?"
"Yeah?" She cocked her head up at him.
"That was two days ago..." Vin squatted down, examining the eggs. "Never seen the likes of it...usually critters wouldda got t'em..."
"They ain't very good," Callie whispered, leaning in and resting her hand on Vin's shoulder. "Reckon them critters knowed that..."
"Reckon," Vin agreed, picking up the plate. "Where's yer spoon?"
"I didn't bring it..." Her face dropped when she realized she'd been found out. "Aw, shoot!"
"So help me God!"
"Hey, Pa," she smiled angelically at her irate father, "Look...Vin's here..."
"You keep this up, Young Lady and you'll be in until Christmas. First spitting and now swearing...you know better!"
"I ain't been spittin' today!" she protested.
"You haven't been spitting today," Ben corrected, handing her a spoon.
"See...I told you!" she stood proudly.
"A young lady like yourself...should conduct herself accordingly...at all times, especially...in the company of...gentlemen." Ezra called over from where he was trying not to fall from his horse.
"You sure talk funny..." Callie screwed her face up Ezra, "You got a belly pain? Our outhouse is just over..."
"Callie!" Ben hollered, brushing past the smirking Vin Tanner. Even Ezra couldn't suppress the smile on his own face. "Apologize to Mr. Standish and then get that mess cleaned up!"
"I'm sorry," She offered over and saw Ezra nod.
"How's things goin' Ben?" Vin quipped, unable to hide the mirth in his eyes or tone.
"Just peachy, Vin!" the exaperated father replied. "Abby won't be back for a week..."
"Yer a brave man," Vin concluded of the tough task. "She's still down in the mouth?" He inquired, knowing the child was disappointed at missing the trip.
"Yeah..." Ben replied, and saw the wheels in Vin's mind spinning. "You...uh...want some breakfast?"
"No thanks, Ben," Vin denied, "Ezra picked up a bad cold...we're outta water and a long way from town."
"Help yourself," he offered of the well. "How about coffee?"
"Okay," Vin agreed, retrieving his large mug. "Just half a cup, thanks..."
"Ya know Ez's right, Callie," Vin stated, walking with both canteens to the well. The adoring child was glued to his hip. "Ya gotta quit spittin', swearin' and misbehavin'...it ain't ladylike."
"I ain't no lady!" She protested. "You spit and swear..."
"That's different, I'm a man and I'm growed...Ya ever hear yer Ma or Miz Travis swearin'?"
"No..."
"Billy won't marry ya iffen ya don't quit actin' out..."
"Reckon I'll think on it," she decided, taking Vin's hand and leading him to the steps outside the front door. "I could marry you..." her voice wavered, staring at the tracker's blue eyes. "You wouldn't care if I spit or sweared."
"Sure I would!" Vin chuckled, sitting down. "Besides, time ya get all growed up...I'll be an old man. Billy's just right..."
"Ma says I'm an itch!" She complained, settling on Vin's lap. She turned her face up when she heard him chuckle. "It ain't funny...she gets mad...she don't want me bein' an itch..."
"I ain't laughin' at ya, Sweetheart," He stroked the silken head, "Ya just remind me of another pretty little gal I heard tell o'..."
"Who?" the head cocked, staring at him adoringly.
"A little angel, up in heaven. Like t'hear about 'er?" he asked and saw the head bobbing up and down. The wide blue eyes were trained on his every word. "Well, there was this little angel gal up in heaven, her name was Callie..."
"Just like me!" She sputtered, impressed.
"How 'bout that!" Vin nodded solemnly, "she was havin' a real tough time settlin' in...kept messin' up her chores..."
"Just like me!" she exclaimed excitedly.
"She kept losin' her harp...making big holes in the clouds...breaking her jar o'angel dust..."
"What's angel dust?" she squinted, resting her head on his shoulder.
"It's what yer guardian angel sprinkles on ya at night...so's ya have sweet dreams..."
"Oh..." she nodded, brushing her face against the stubbled cheek. She liked the feel of it against her skin.
"...the head angel who was in charge...got real upset...she told Lil' Callie iffen she didn't shape up...they was gonna ship her out...take away her wings..."
"Oh no..." Callie's head came up. "What happened?"
"Well...she got her temper up...got t' stompin' her feet and sasssin' back...the head angel punished her...called her an itch..."
"Just like me!" she shouted.
"Well...she was supposed t'clean up her mess...but she didn't...she wandered off and saw a big box. Now she knew this was the special box...it had the biggest, brightest star ever made inside. It was bein' saved fer the Baby Jesus."
"I know about that star," She gasped, "Mrs. Potter told us about it in Sunday School..."
"Well I betcha didn't know who was holdin' it up real high...makin' it shine so pretty..."
"Little Angel Callie?" She guessed, heart pounding.
"Yup..." Vin nodded, "Ya see, she had a bad habit o'openin' stuff she weren't supposed t'..."
"Me too!"
"Well, this time, it got her in a pack o'trouble. She took the star t'play with it...got t'flyin' about the sky...fergot the time. When the head angel come t'get the star...so's the shepherds and wisemen could find Baby Jesus..it was gone."
"Oh No!" she shook her head. "What happened?"
"Well, the head angel sent the other angels out huntin' fer it...and they found Lil' Callie tossin' it around."
"I bet they were sore at her..."
"Real sore," Vin agreed, "Because she disobeyed and was bad...the Baby Jesus almost missed havin' all them angels, shepherds and wisemen findin' 'im...The head angel made Lil' Callie go with the others that night, so's she could see what she done. That star got t'be awful heavy and Lil' Callie was feelin' awful poorly about bein' bad...'specially about the little baby nearly bein' born in the dark. After all, his Ma and Pa needed that star...t'find that manger."
"Oh yeah..." She whispered, swallowing hard.
"So Lil' Callie, she fluffed up her wings real good, sproutin' them out and such...she straightened up her halo and she held up that star. The other angels told the head angel what she done and the head angel was real proud o'her."
"Pa, did you hear that!" She exclaimed, wide-eyed and breathless.
"So ya let that be a lesson t'ya...Doin' good, makin' yer Ma and Pa proud o'ya...givin' them a big smile...bustin' their buttons o'er ya...that's important."
"I'll be good, Vin, I promise." She buried her face in his neck and sighed at the warm hug. Then she scrambled to her father, throwing herself in his arms. "I'm sorry, Pa...I'll be good...I promise...you just wait and see..."
"I believe you, Sunshine," he kissed the upturned face. "Now how about starting by cleaning up that mess?" He handed her a spoon and watched her remove the eggs. "Can I bring Vin his coffee?"
"Okay, but use both hands...it's hot..." He stretched his hand out, gripping the smiling trackers. "Thanks Vin...I owe you one..."
"Ah," Vin shook his head, "She'll be okay...she's just got growin' pains..." They talked quietly for few minutes, until the little hostess appeared. He turned and smiled as the carefully walking child approached, with his mug. "Thank ya, Darlin'..." he took the cup and ruffled her hair. "What?" He felt her tug his pants and bent over, grinning again as he got a tiny kiss on the cheek.
"You sure you'd be too old?" she whispered, lifting her large eyes to his smiling ones.
"Yer breakin' m'heart..." he laughed, ruffling the golden head. "Thanks..." he went to sip the coffee and frowned.
"Something wrong, Vin?" Ben approached, and saw crumbs floating in the brew. "CALLIE!"
"Yeah Pa?" She said innocently.
"Why are there oatcake crumbs in Vin's coffee?"
"Oatcakes?" She sighed, "Well you see, Pa, one sorta fell in while I was...uh...uh...stirrin'...yeah...stirrin' Vin's coffee."
"You mean while you were dunkin' the cakes in there..."
"I tried to drunk 'em all out...they kept gettin' away from me..." She dropped her head and then felt Vin's hand on her chin. "I'm sorry, Vin. It was an accident. I was holding one in my teeth while I got the coffee and it fell in and I tried to get it out but it got all busted up and then I tried drinkin' it out and..."
"Okay...okay..." Vin laughed and finished the beverage, crumbs and all. "Thanks again, Ben. See ya Darlin'...Ya remember yer promise now..."
"Sure," She nodded, walking fast to keep up with him. "Swap spit on it?"
"Callie!" Ben gritted, watching both Ezra and Vin chuckle.
"What?" She turned confused. "It's like givin' your word. Ain't that what you told me, Vin?"
"Yer a lady now, Callie, ya can't be swappin' spit no more..."
"Aw, hell," She mimicked her idol, than slapped a hand across her mouth. "Oopps..."
"Callie!" Ben directed, raking a hand through his hair. "Get in the house. I'm gonna get some water from the well so you can wash up."
"Yes sir..." She hugged Vin once and skipped away.
"See ya, Ben," Vin grinned, shaking his head. "She sure is somethin'..." he noted, tying Ezra's canteen to the dozing man's saddlehhorn.
"Indeed," Erza croaked, "It would appear you were speaking from the voice of experience."
"Well," Vin climbed on his own horse and eyed the other. "I reckon I was called 'an itch' a time or two when I was a little feller."
"What do you mean 'was'?" Ezra challenged, knowing Vin Tanner couldn't sit still long. "That said, I might add that although I am the one accused of 'spittin' up the alphabet' On my best day I would never be as eloquent or graceful as you were just now. Well done..."
"Ya mean that," Vin amazed, flushing slightly, "don't ya?"
"You have a gift Vin, when it comes to creating moving images. I was as enchanted as that child was...and your poetry would rival Keats."
"Aw, hell...ya do got a fever..." Vin turned his horse away, but cast a drunken grin back at the smiling conman. "Thanks..."
"My pleasure."
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