Setting: Old West
Rating: PF — Profanity and AC — Adult Content
This is the second story set in the Hope Ranch AU (the first is A Shining Place Called Hope) Winnie, dear, I hope you salivate...
IMPORTANT AUTHOR"S NOTE: This was written in a bit of a hurry for a specific reason, no time for beta work or many edits, so read with kind eyes!.
Buck didn't have time to sit very long. Chris was restless, tossing and turning, shoving against Buck and fighting him. Although it wasn't very long, it seemed to forever to Buck. He wrung out a large towel and placed it over Chris from the neck to the groin, letting the cool water work. He shoved the fighting figure down into the bed.
"Easy there, Chris, it's just Buck." He ducked when a fist flew up but not fast enough, it hit him right in the eye and it hurt. "Even half dead you still got it," he chuckled.
"Buck?" Chris coughed, his heavy eyes opening. For a moment, confusion rained down and his fevered gaze swept past the mustached man to the thick creamy walls.
"You're safe now. Nate's on his way."
"...Greg..." Chris choked in anger, curling up a fist when the memories of how hard his new friend fought to save them. "...saved... my ... life..." he turned to Buck and tugged on the shirt front. "...you have... to find... him..."
"We did, he told us where you were, Ezra took him to Nate. He's alive, Chris." The relief that passed over Larabee's features was genuine. Buck eased him up and supported him with his left arm while his right hand held a mug of water. He nudged the panting lips and got a full mug into the parched soul.
"...Vin..." Chris rasped, wondering where the Texan was.
"He's outside, he's fine," Buck answered. Truth be told, Vin wasn't fine and hadn't come near the house. Maybe seeing Chris so close to death shook him up. His head shot around when he heard a horse approach.
"...window..." Chris urged.
"Yeah," Buck agreed, easing Larabee down and grabbing his rifle. He crept to the window, cautiously peering outside. His shoulders sagged in relief and he let out a long breath. "Nathan!"
Buck went outside as Nathan arrived and his side vision caught something off kilter. He moved over to the area where Santiago had been lying in a heap. The barbaric pile of refuse was gone. Frowning, Buck moved a few feet away towards a small storage shed and found a pile of bloody clothes that had been cut away. His own blood ran cold and he eyed the hills above.
"What the hell are you doing, Vin?"
Vin traveled just far enough to be out of sight. Santiago was gagged and thrown over the saddle in front of him. The tracker's keen eyes skirted the landscape until they caught something very distinctive. Nodding, he paused, got off the horse very carefully. Using quiet movements, he hauled the brutal guard over his shoulder and laid him on the ground. He quickly staked the sadisdic beast's hands over his head and shoved his legs apart. After staking him down, he returned to his saddlebags and slipped his hand inside. He rummaged around until he hit metal. Drawing the tin of peaches out, he pried it open and tipped the lid, ensuring the peaches would remain inside for now. He poured the juice over the eyelids, causing them to twitch. Santiago blinked and woke up, the dark eyes were full of fear, darting back and forth.
Santiago's heart slammed against his chest, he was going to die. For a few seconds, he wondered why the long-haired gringo wasn't using his knife. His muddled brain couldn't decide if the pain he felt was from his wounds, the beating he'd sustained or the unknown. He didn't know what the gringo was doing, pouring the juice of the peach can on his neck and then laying some of the cut up fruit on his groin. His confusion was short-lived when he turned his head to the left and his eyes saw something that caused his chest to nearly explode in icy anxiety. He shook his head, muffling the word 'no' over and over.
Vin tred softly back to his horse, mounted it and turned away, moving to a short bluff overlooking his prey. He took his time, using the tip of the knife to eat the few peaches that remained. He lifted the empty can and took aim, then decided not to. They'd come out soon enough, in small bands. It was better that way, it would take longer and Santiago would suffer more. His eyes caught movement and he watched a few of the fierce creatures approaching the bait.
Santiago screamed but nobody heard him. He struggled in vain against the stakes, his bloody body buckling in pain. The first round of pain was on his neck, a few moments later, a deeper level of pain erupted all over his groin. He continued to scream, he had no more saliva, the urine soaked gag in his mouth took care of that. Then he felt them on his face, making a path towards the sticky peach juices on his eyelids. That was when his trip to hell truly began.
Vin watched as the first scouts scurried and tasted Santiago's neck. Soon more joined them, covering the coward's groin and gnawing on the peaches and the fruit beneath. Then a large group climbed over his cheeks and began to eat his eyes. Vin watched Santiago's body buckle and his head twitch, fighting in vain against the inevitable. The neck and groin begin to turn red, as the venom caused the bitten area to swell into dozens of white pussy postules. He drew a bottle of whiskey from his saddlebag, took a slow draw and watched as an army of deadly red fire ants slowly began to devour him. Dozens more poured out of the mound of dirt nearby and headed for his feet, chest and spilled into his ears. The body continued to twitch and jerk, the unseeing eyes were gone, leaving two black holes filled with fiery ants. He watched until the last foot twitched and then took a final swig, capping the bottle and tucking it away.
Vin used the short trip back towards the adobe to fill his pockets full of aloe. The sound of hooves brought him to the edge of the overlook. He saw Nathan fly past and heard Buck's call. He was relieved that his best friend was finally going to be prepared to leave. He wanted to be on the other side of the border and was worried about hitting trouble on the way back. He went back to combing the edge of the mountain for the little plant that was invaluable for burns. He stuffed his large pockets until they were full and he eyed a thick patch ahead. Just enough to carry back to Nathan. As he pulled the plant up, something bit the fleshy part of his hand between the left thumb and first finger.
"Shit..." He pulled back, stomping on the little beast. "Dammit..."
He wasn't sure what kind of spider it was and he'd never been bitten by one. But he wasn't going to take any chances. He went back to the largest rock and sat down, taking his knife out. He winced as he cut the skin over the bite. He brought it to his mouth and began to suck the blood out.
Nathan rushed inside the adobe, brushing past Buck and moving quickly to the bed. His brows furrowed in concern when he saw the amount of damage down to his friend. His first concern was the shallow, raspy breathing. He put his bag on the table next to Chris and pulled out the stethescope.
"Buck, I need yuh t'hold him up, I want t'listen t'his chest." He frowned and turned around, not seeing the tall cowboy "BUCK!"
"Yeah," Buck called back, torn a bit. He wanted to ride into those hills, he was worried about Vin's state of mind. He sighed hard, shook his head and reluctantly went to Nathan.
"Hold him up!"
"Sure, Nate," Buck replied, moving on the other side and lifting Chris. Both of Larabee's eyes shot open.
"Nate..." Chris coughed and panicked a bit when he couldn't stop. The pressure caused a burning pain to his ribs and back. His head felt like it was about to fall off. "...I'll take the catpiss now..."
"Chris, I know yuhr hurtin' somethin' fierce," Nate assessed, studying the pupils in the patient's green eyes. "But I need yuh to breathe in fuhr me, okay. A couple times if yuh can."
Chris nodded and did as he was told. Nathen didn't talk, rather he moved the listening tool around his chest and then his back. Finally, he was given some water and lowered onto the bed. He felt Nathan prodding and poking at his various wounds and twice was rolled onto his side. He closed his eyes, he was much too dizzy with them open.
"Yuh done a good job," Nate commented. Chris's wounds had been cleaned and most of his body was washed and rid of grim, grit and blood. "I'm gonna need yuhr help."
"Okay," Buck answered. "The leg's bad isn't it?"
"It could be worse," Nathan used a tool to move the inflamed skin around the right calf wound away. He smelled whiskey and nodded thoughtfully. "Yuh doused it?"
"No, Santiago did that," Buck answered, "We didn't want to wrap it, it was oozing crud."
"Yuh done right," Jackson agreed, "I'm gonna dig out some bits of cloth and stuff, that's causin' the infection. Then I'll pack it with lint soaked in carbolic and keep it wrapped loose. " He nodded for Buck to move behind the bed "Hold him down, this is gonna hurt."
Buck waited and watched as Nathan pulled thread, cotton, gravel and other bits of debris from the leg. Then his dark eyes came up and he nodded . Buck pressed his palms down onto Chris's shoulders. He watched as Nathan poured carbolic into a bowl filled with cotton pieces. When the darkskinned hands moved over the nasty wound, Buck braced himself.
Ezra had just arrived when a cry of agony from the adobe swirled in the air. He jumped off his horse and went to the pack horse, grabbing all the sacs. He used his boot to kick on the door, both arms full of the bags that Nathan packed. Buck opened up, taking the largest bag.
"How is he?" Ezra asked, walking through the well appointed room to a table that was next to the bed. He set the bags down and went closer.
"Alive," Nathan replied, pulling items from the bag. "I don't like this fever, it's bad. He's breathin' ain't good. That leg wound is a mess, I just hope it heals okay."
"We gotta get him patched up and ready. We can't stay, Nathan." Buck put the large bag down and rummaged inside, pulling out a long pair of thin scissors.
"He can't ride nowhere!" Nathan issued crossly, pointing down to Larabee. 'Hear that funny breathin'? His lungs are congested. He ain't up t'sittin' on a horse, he's loaded with fever."
"We can't stay," Ezra agreed. "That mine is inspected on a regular basis by the Mexican Army. By the records kept in Santiago's office, a patrol is due in short order. Should they arrive, we wouldn't stand a chance."
"Grovers Pass is a couple hours away, he'll make it," Buck vowed, lifting the metal tools out one by one with pliers from a pot of boiling water. He put them on a large platter they'd found and sterilized, then covered with clean cloth. He carried the plate to where Nathan was waiting.
"Where is Mister Tanner?" Ezra inquired.
"In the hills," Buck answered. "I'll go find him."
"No, your place is here, I'll go." Ezra turned away and was at his horse when Buck caught up to him. He saw something in the rogue's eyes that was troubling. "Is there a problem?"
"I hope not," Buck answered, nodding to the bloody patches of ground where Chris was tortured. "That's where Santiago was torturing Chris. Vin..." He turned back and pointed to the area on the hill where they'd spotted Larabee. "was way up there. The first shot took most of his hand off, then one to his knee and a third to his wrist."
"Ever the marksman," Standish noted and saw the worry glinting in Buck's blue eyes. "And..."
"And JD, Josiah and me brought Chris into the adobe. Vin disappeared." He paused and gazed at the shed. "When Nate rode up, I went over there and all I found was tattered pieces of Santiago's clothes."
Ezra didn't reply at first, his jade eyes went to the hills above. He didn't understand the deep bond that Larabee and Tanner shared, but he envied anyone a kinship like that. No doubt Vin was still hurting and that raw festering would inside would not heal until he he sought out his own form of retribution.
"I'll find him," Standish replied softly, accepting Buck's grip on his shoulder as payment. He knew Wilmington wanted to go.
"How long Nate?" Buck asked, returning inside and shutting the door.
"I don't know!" Nathan barked, cutting the dirty bandage on Chris's head. He lifted it and took it off, throwing it on the floor. He felt Buck's eyes bearing on him and lifted his own. He dug into the inflamed flesh with a tool that had a concave spoonlike end, using it to dig out puss. Flicking it onto the floor he sighed hard.
"Nathan," Buck pressed, drilling the irate healer. "How long?"
"A half hour, but I'm doin' this under protest."
He was angry and didn't hide it. Fortunately, Chris was now unconscious, so he didn't feel the carbolic that cleaned the graze on his head. Nathan wrapped it, tied it and lowered the head back down. He eyed the other minor wounds and handed Buck the bottle.
"Yuh clean up the cuts, I'll stitch the cut over his hip and take the burns." Nate went to work, quickening his pace.
The sound of a horse brought Vin's head up. He got his mare's leg out and tilted his head towards the clearing. He saw the jacket first, it's bright color bleeding through the dusty landscape. He relaxed, sighed hard and put the gun away. The rush was ebbing away and the pain was back. He tried to rise but his back protested and he bit his lip when the pain ripped across the bottom of his back. Cradling his injured hand, he spit a wad of blood out.
Ezra's brows were furrowed in concern when he saw Vin holding his left hand and noted the fair features were twisted in pain. He got down and approached cautiously.
"What happened?"
"Somethin' bit me," Vin answered.
"A snake?" Ezra's voice rose in alarm, that could be fatal.
"Naw." Vin shook his dirty head, using his good hand to sweep his sweaty hair back. "Some fuckin' brown spider... bigger than most and had fur on it."
"Where is it?" Ezra asked and Vin lifted his boot.
"Oh." He eyed the bloody hand and Vin saw his question coming.
"Never got spider bit b'fore," he updated. "Wasn't sure what t'do, so I cut it and drew the blood out."
"May I?" Ezra asked, nodding to the boot. He didn't like the fear riddled blue eyes that were beseeching him silently. He squatted down and eyed the smashed up remains carefully.
"I was hoping you didn't see wrong. The desert often houses Black Widows. That would have been fatal."
"Shit." VIn's head came up. "It ain't that big..."
"Spiders release venom when they bit their victims, just like a snake." He rose and rested a hand on Vin's hide coated shoulder. He wondered how he was tolerating it in this heat.
"It's bite is not fatal, however, there will be some rather ghastly side effects of the venom."
"Ghastly," Vin spit the word out and wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Like how?"
"That depends on how your body reacts to the venom. You might only suffer pain in the hand and a bit of nausea. There might be some profuse sweating or labored breathing. Or your speech may slur and there is vomiting."
"Great," Vin huffed in annoyance. "Jest what Nathan needs." He lifted his eyes to Ezra then, "This stays' 'tween us, Ez, understood?"
"I'm sorry, Vin, I can't agree to that. You might have minor symptoms that the others would atest to fatigue. You could retire to a room and sleep it off."
"What's the problem then!" Vin snapped, he felt a headache coming.
"That venom could also cause you to become very ill. Vomiting, feverish, muscle pain and also, that wound may not heal without treatment. Sometimes the skin and muscle around it become very painful and crusty." He saw the plants sticking out of Tanner's bulging pocket and got a bag.
"Alright," Vin sighed, eyeing the throbbing hand. "We'll wait an'see. If it ain't s'bad, I'll puke and sleep it off. " Vin drew out all the plants he'd collected and dumped them into a burlap bag that Standish held out.
"But if you fall ill and it's something I cannot tend to, I will summon Nathan," Ezra drilled and the shaggy head dipped once. "Good. I'll secure this and get my canteen. I have some soap in my saddle bag. We can clean it and wrap it."
Vin's face screwed up when Ezra cleaned the wound. The gambler had a soft touch, the fingers defty probing the wound and ensuring it was clean. Twice he saw the knowing eyes skirting around the immediate area.
"Lookin' fer somebody?" Vin asked, when the conman began cutting one of his long white handkerchiefs into strips.
Ezra didn't reply at first, he carefully covered the wound, leaving it loose. Then he tied a long strip around and covered it again. He stood back and watched as Vin stood, he was a bit surprised when Vin's bandaged paw latched onto his arm. The pain he saw was not all from the wounded hand.
"Should I be?" Ezra answered and Vin straighted up, removed his hand and slowly met his gaze. The passion in the blue eyes was something to behold. Whatever happened out there to Santiago was part of a salve needed to heal the wounded hole inside of Vin Tanner.
"No," Vin answered, turning towards his horse.
Ezra nodded, it was clear Vin was not ready to share whatever method was chosen for Santiago to meet a grisly fate. And Standish respected that. Having seen what the animal had done to Chris Larabee he deserved whatever choice had been taken. So when he was on his own horse, he met those heated eyes again and nodded once, sending a silent vote of support.
By the time Ezra arrived, Nathan and Buck were readying Larabee. He handed over the large amount of aloe and saw surprise on the healer's face.
"This is good, Ezra, real good," Nate acknowledged. "I'll show yuh what t'do, we need to rub some on his shoulder, thigh and the bottom of his foot. "
"His lips too," Buck thought, grabbing a plant. He saw Vin hovering in the doorway, his normally tanned face seemed to have lost all it's color. Even his usually expressive eyes were void. He wondered if it was more than just exhaustion and worry that was causing it. "Vin, he's bad, but he won't die."
Vin bit his lip and nodded, keeping his left hand in his pocket. The bite was throbbing now and he hoped the headache wouldn't get worse. He had to keep appearances up for at least the next few hours. He saw Ezra studying him, his face was a mask to most but not to him. He knew the Southerner was worried and nodded once, expressing his gratitude. The stench of blood and puss became too much and he ducked outside, sucking in air. A moment later, a mug of water was in front of him
"Here," Ezra said, watching until the water was consumed. "I'll ride with you in the back."
"Thanks, Ez," Vin whispered, taking a long breath. Suddenly, the hills on the horizon that were near their ranch seemed a thousand miles away.
Buck and Nathan carried Chris out. They'd dressed him in loose fitting cream colored cotton pants and a long tunic. Vin and Ezra moved to take him, as Nathan climbed onto his horse. Buck went inside and got the sacs and medical bags, tying them to Nathan's horse and the spare horse.
"Let's go home!" Buck roared, securing the last tie and heading to help the others lift Chris up onto Nathan's horse. Then he would tie the injured man crosswise from the hips to the shoulders to Nathan, so he would be secure.
"Music to my ears," Ezra agreed.
Something inside Chris Larabee, far deep inside, caused him to rouse. It was a place beyond where pain was felt. He knew Vin held him, the smell of the soft hide coat was unique. He lifted his face from where it was lying against Vin's shoulder. He studied Tanner's face a moment, seeing pain radiating in the sky eyes. He saw fear there too and wondered on that. He didn't know the hell Vin had endured inside during the time he was missing. But he had to let him know just how much he meant. He pulled his bandaged wrist painfully and moved it, until it snuck under the hide coat and over Vin's heart.
Vin was startled by the feeble touch and wanted to latch onto the shaking hand but had to hold onto Chris. He saw the burned lips moving and dipped his head to hear the scratchy voice. The hand that was now palm down and pressing onto his heart caused an odd heat to go right through and envelop him.
"...blood..." Chris whispered, his voice strained and weak.
"...on blood..." Vin vowed, understanding the heartfelt words and how much they meant. Blood on blood was the deepest bond, closer than brothers. One in which you shared the same heart, soul and spirit. A cherished bond that would be treasured and endure until the both left this sweet earth.
Nathan was already moving out and Ezra was mounted and about to follow. Vin was about to put his boot in the stirrup when a shadow fell across him. He wasn't surprised when he turned to an angry face. Buck held up Santiago's bloody shirt.
"You gonna tell me?" Buck finally spoke. His eyes went to the knife in a leather scabbard on Vin's hip.
"Didn't use a blade, didn't hafta. I done m'job," Tanner addressed the angry eye movement. He knew Buck was pissed and he understood that need to purge. "Same as y'all."
Buck was pissed and he knew that Vin wasn't going to apologize. He also knew that Vin was right. The most important issue was getting Chris to shelter and addressing his needs. But a part of him wanted to feel that satisfication that Vin had gotten by making Santiago pay.
"Up yonder." He nodded his head in the direction of the path he'd taken. Buck was hurting too and full of the same kind of fire that had consumed him. The larger man didn't answer, he turned away, throwing the shirt down and grabbing the reins of his horse.
"I'll catch up," Buck called back tersly, galloping down the road.
"Shit," Vin hissed, leaning heavily against the side of his horse. He closed his eyes a moment and tried to quell the bile rising. Despite a wave of dizziness, he saw a blur of a red moving to dismount. "Git up with Nathan, he'll be wonderin'," Vin gasped, heading for the bushes nearby.
Ezra rode slow enough to hear Vin retching and keep and eye on Nathan, who'd stopped and was trying to turn slightly without disrupting Chris.
"We're coming," Erza hollered, watching Vin stagger from the bushes and spitting out residue on the way to his horse. Once the shaken tracker had rinsed his mouth and climbed onto his horse, swaying slightly, then righting himself, Standish continued.
"Where's Buck and Vin?" Nathan asked,able to Ezra finally.
"Just down the road, trouble with one of the horses," Ezra said.
It didn't take Buck long to get there. He saw the vultures circling and then the stench hit him. On his way to the spot, he was wondering how Vin had done it. Had he taken a scalp? Or maybe used the blade as he'd done with Luis. But he wasn't prepared for the grotesque corpse that met his eyes.
"Jesus God," he choked, gagging at the horrific sight. Thousands of ants covered what was left of him. He didn't get closer, he turned away, partially ashamed of his actions. But a part of him was now satisified.
Buck made up for his lost time, riding ahead of the others, needing to seek out the doctor's office before Nathan arrived. He urged the horse up the street, his eyes scanning each side for a sign bearing a doctor's name. Then he saw JD waving at him from the edge of town. There was a small white clapboard house with a white picket fence around it. It had a large sideyard and he saw some of the men Josiah and JD brought in sitting on a bench under the shade of a large tree.
"Where's the others?" JD asked, when Buck rode up.
"About a half-hour behind, I rode ahead. How's that guy... uh..."
"Greg Wilson," Dunne noted, "He's out cold but the doctor said he'd be okay. His leg's infected and he's beat up good, has a fever. How's Chris?"
"Alive," Buck answered, getting down and securing his horse. He eyed the pump in the sideyard and headed for it.
"What about Santiago?" Dunne inquired.
"Dead." Buck spat out, "Where's Josiah?"
"Wiring home and the Judge," the youth replied. "I got us some rooms at the hotel, they only had four left."
"That'll do," Buck agreed, pumping water hard and sticking his head under it. Between abnormal amounts of sweat clinging to him, he was covered with dirt and grime from the desert and ride back. "Damn, I itch in more places than I can count."
"Yeah, the smell sort of gave you away," JD teased. "How'd he die?"
"Doesn't matter now," Buck answered, cupping his hands and getting a drink.
"Well, I mean after what Vin did the that other guard..."
"You don't have the right to judge him, JD," Buck defended, jabbing a finger in the flushed-face youth's jacket. "You're not comfortable with what Vin did, you get over it, it's done." He shook the water from his face. He knew nothing he would say could change how JD felt about what he'd seen. JD was brought up back east in a large city, thousands of miles from the wild areas of the west where it was a whole different world. "And don't push him about this, understood? He's wore to the bone and don't need you houndin' him about that."
"I just wondered, Buck. I mean he cut that guy up like a deer. What did he do to Santiago?"
"He didn't use his knife," Buck supplied, "And I saw the corpse lyin' in the dirt. He's dead and it's done."
"Alright, Buck, back off," JD's ire rose. "I got the right to disagree with what I saw. And I'm not that insensitive. I know Vin's not himself and I wouldn't badger him."
"How are they holdin' up?" Buck nodded to the men in the yard and changed the subject.
"Most of them seem okay, just tired and hungry. The doctor's gonna check 'em over later. I told the others to go to the boarding house."
"That's good, the Judge will want to talk to them." Buck eyed the merchantile and the road from town. "I'm gonna get a quick bath and some fresh clothes while things are quiet."
"Okay, I'll watch out for Nathan."
True to his word, Ezra Standish remained just a few feet in front of Vin's horse all the way back across the border. The heat of the day seemed to double with every mile and Ezra was soaked in sweat. He'd even taken his coat off, something he seldom resorted to. He paused to drain his canteen, frowning as he shook the empty water vessel. He turned back and frowned at the odd posture of his friend. To the untrained eye, Vin appeared to be road weary and worn. But Ezra's eyes never failed to see what most missed and he saw pain rolling off the Texan. The normally keen blues eyes were dull and seemed to be distant and the square jaw was clenched too tight. But he'd ridden with Vin before and never saw him sitting a horse in such fashion. Anyone suffering from this heat and clinging with sweat would be slumped in the least. But Vin was sitting too straight and Ezra wondered if the tracker's back was acting up.
Vin saw the jade eyes flick to his hip and his mouth formed a straight line. He knew Ezra was worried and appreciated the fact that he'd taken the time to do so. But right now the only thing he wanted was too see Chris out of harm's way. His own aching body would wait. His first worry was getting off the horse without falling down or throwing up. He hoped it was just the heat causing his rocky stomach but he knew better.
"M'fine," he rasped.
"I didn't doubt it for a moment," Ezra drolled, "it's clear by your unnatural posture and that jaw that you are the picture of health."
Vin craned his neck to see the road ahead. "Who moved the town?"
Ezra enjoyed Vin's dry humor and took out his pocketwatch, glanced at it and then the road. He watched as Vin carefully took a small sip of water and then blanched. He was about to move to assist when the lean body buckled and jerked. The venom was working faster than expected. He'd hoped they'd make it to a room first, where he could help Vin in private. But then Vin relaxed a bit and his eyes closed. He took two shaky breaths and let them out slowly, before opening his eyes.
"I ain't gonna fall," Vin snapped, "Git up the road, yer crowdin' me."
"Charming as usual," Ezra smiled, "I have found it better to ride more cautiously in this type of heat."
"Yer tongue's all twisted up," Tanner accused.
"And you're welcome," Ezra charmed, knowing how terribly uncomfortable Vin was now. "If you can manage to remain upright for about twenty minutes, you will be rewarded with a soft bed in a cool room."
"After..." Vin replied, gagging a bit and swallowing back the bile that rose.
"He'll be in more than capable hands," Ezra replied, knowing what the cryptic reply meant. "And Nathan is not that blind, my friend."
"Point taken," Vin conceded, sighing again. He used what strength he had to concentrate on remaining in the saddle.
Nathan didn't know the last time he was so relieved. Although the trip back had gone well, considering the heat and rough roads, he wanted to get Chris to a doctor. The lean gunslinger was tied to him and soaked with fever. He saw Josiah cross the street at the other end of town and then JD shout to the preacher. Dunne waved to him and pointed to a clapboard house.
"Thank God," Nathan hissed, eager to be out of the saddle. Chris was dead weight now and if not for the secure lines that bound them, he'd never have been able to hold onto him. He urged the horse to pick up it's pace until they were at the side of the yard. "I think I could kiss yuh," he greeted Sanchez, who was cutting the ropes.
"I look desperate to you?" Josiah replied, taking Chris Larabee's limp form. from the weary healer. He saw the dark eyes of his close friend flicker with doubt for a moment at the sign on the door bearing the doctor's name. He knew that Nathan had been insulted on more than one occasion because of his color, especially by those in higher end professions. "He's a Quaker," he reassured and felt the relief when Nathan relaxed. Quakers were responsible for a lot of slaves gaining their freedom and he knew Nathan would be welcomed here. Both strong hands moved under Chris's arms from behind. "JD!"
"Yeah..." Dunne scrambled over, taking Larabee's legs. "Door! Door!"
"Okay," Buck hollered from the inside of the house, then opening the door. The quick bath and new clothes rejuvinated him. "Got 'im, kid?"
"Yeah..."
"In here." Buck lead the way through the parlor down the hallway and into a spacious room in the back of the house.
Nathan eased off the horse and stretched, then secured the animal. He quickly moved up the path and into the home. He saw JD disappear into a room at the end of the house. Wide planked wooden floors gleamed under solid wood furniture. Crisp, white curtains adorned the windows which looked out onto a grove of trees. It was immaculate, from the pewter lamps to the home made quilts and polished table and chairs in the corner with a vase of fresh flowers. The room was also very cool, which would be a blessing . One of the two beds was occupied by Greg Wilson. A man about fifty or so, tall and thin with gray hair shooting through dark gold was about to wrap a bandage on the young man's leg.
"This is Doctor Franklin," Josiah introduced, lifting Chris so Buck could peel the wet shirt from him. "He's been tending to Greg."
"Nathan Jackson." He walked over and shook the man's hand. "How's he doin'?" He nodded to the dark haired man in the bed. The flushed face and damp skin warned of a fever.
"Given a week with rest, medical care and good food, he'll recover nicely."
"I can take care of Wilson," Nathan offered of the bandaging. "Just give me a minute t'clean up."
"Certainly," the doctor replied, "Your friends have spoken highly of your talent. I would welcome the help."
"I'd be grateful t'learn from yuh, thanks," Nathan answered. He got a good feeling from his man .
"My wife Mary is at the store, getting everything we'll need. She's a very good nurse. There are some men in the yard, from the prison with minor injuries. If you could help with them, we can send them to Mrs. White's with the others."
"The boarding house, " Dunne translated to Nathan. "Can I help?"
"How about we get Nathan's bags and then see to the horses," Josiah offered. He knew Buck wouldn't leave Larabee's side and although the room was spacious, with two injured men and two healers, they didn't need anymore bodies in here.
"If you gentlemen would come back by perhaps three o'clock, Mary will have a fine lunch ready outside on the porch and I can update you on your friend."
"Thanks, Doc," JD agreed.
Ezra led the way into the livery and quickly dismounted, turning just as Vin swayed badly. He grabbed Vin's elbow and held on, then pulled the dazed man's foot from the stirrup. He knew how bad the situation was when the normally fiesty tracker offered no argument. By the time both feet hit the floor, his knees buckled.
"Aw, shit, not now," Vin rasped, as his knees buckled and the whole stable seemed to twirl.
"You are after all, a Tanner," Ezra reminded him and the body straightened up. He held on to the wavering soul for a moment than the shaggy head dipped once. Ezra didn't miss the fact that Tanner's head and face were soaked.
"Vin!"
When JD's voice sailed through the barn, Tanner's feverish face paled. He lifted his head and caught Ezra's steady, cool gaze. He held on to it a moment and regained his balance. He gave a short nod and took a few steady breaths.
"'ey, kid," Vin croaked, turning around slowly.
"You look awful," Dunne said, wondering if Vin was more than just worn out He couldn't tell what was wrong but felt something wasn't quite right. "I'll get your horse, Vin. Doctor Franklin's is at the end of the street, he's workin' on Chris. He said for us to come back at three for lunch. That other guy, Wilson, he's gonna be okay and..."
Vin wasn't sure what JD was saying. He saw the youth's mouth moving and he knew a lot of words were coming out but all he heard was buzzing sounds. He managed to nod and grab his saddlebag and gun, then walk slowly towards the door.
"Hey... I wasn't finished... Vin?" JD called after him.
"Reckon he's just a bit worn, son," Josiah noted, clapping JD's back, 'It wasn't personal."
Ezra waited until JD passed by and took the reins to Vin's horse. The livery clerk returned then and Standish tossed a few coins at him to tend to his horse. He took his bags and headed out, wondering if he'd find Vin in a heap. His motions didn't go unnoticed and he found Sanchez beside him. To his credit, Vin was walking on his own, albeit slowly, up the street.
"That poor boy's white-eyed," Josiah spoke of Tanner's exhausted state.
"He's gone far beyond that," Ezra said, "And I'm sure until our fair-haired leader is through the worst of his travail, he'll be out of sorts."
"JD's got some rooms at the hotel, on the second floor at the far end. There's two doubles and two singles." He draped an arm over Standish's shoulder. "I made sure Buck got the other bed in your room, seein' as how you're so familiar with his ass."
"Ever the Good Samaritan," Ezra replied, his eyes catching the sign for the bathhouse. "I think I am bearing half of the soil and dust from that hellish terrain. Also, a change of clothes is in order."
"Not me," Josiah said, "Moses went forty days, I figure I've got a good thirty five left."
"Aren't we lucky," Ezra chased, crossing the street. He saw Josiah disappear into the Post Office. He kept his eyes on Vin until he saw Vin stagger and grab a hitching post. Then he moved quickly.
Vin wasn't sure what happened. He was proud that he'd actually gotten three-quarters up the street and saw the white house. Then the street began to move and he felt as if he was walking on a log. Just as he began to panic, a familiar drawl caught his ear.
"Dancing in public is not tolerated," Ezra scolded, leading Vin to a bench outside the dry goods store. "Lay your head back against the wall, close your eyes and breathe in deeply through your nose and out of your mouth."
Vin was too tired and sick to argue and did as he was told. He felt a cold cloth pressed into his hand and wiped his face and neck. He saw a flash of silver and a mug of water then but shook his head.
"No sense decoratin' yer boots," he warned of the sick stomach. He couldn't move the left hand, it was throbbing badly. Finally, he felt the world right itself.
"Are you sure you don't want to tell the doctor..."
"I'm wore out, Ez, I jest wanna sleep."
"The hotel is just across the street. I'm afraid the rooms are upstairs. Perhaps it would be better if I took your rifle and saddlebags?"
"Okay," Vin rasped, standing up and testing his legs. "Hell, shakin' worse than a virgin on her weddin' night."
"I wouldn't know," Ezra answered, then frowned when Vin kept going straight. "You realize Nathan will take one look at you and the jig will be up."
Vin kept walking. He wasn't that dumb, he didn't intend to stay. But he had to see Chris. He knew he was about to collapse and right now was walking on sheer will alone. His head hurt, his back was in agony and his hand ached. The pain in his stomach he hoped wouldn't turn out loose in his bowels. He got up the path and to the door, he tapped lightly and nobody answered so he opened it. Steeling himself against the waves of dizziness, he push all the pain aside. He willed himself to move, Chris was here and that was all the ammunition he needed
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