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!.
Gilbert wasn't about to go down without a fight. He knew from the grunt he'd heard and the body weight shifting behind him the man was was holding him had been shot. He spent a good half hour judging the shift in the saddle and the body kept tipping to the right. Several times small grunts of pain were heard. Twice when the right hand came up to reinforce the hold on the reins he could see they were sticky with something. He'd been working on freeing his hands and his left hand finally slipped through. The timing couldn't have been better. They were almost across the river and by the water level lapping at the horse's lower legs, it wasn't deep. Without warning, he slammed his elbow hard into the lower chest of the man behind him. The body toppled off into the water. He pulled his hands up and grabbed the reins, turning the horse slightly.
Buck had no time to cry out, he was face down in cold water. He swallowed quite a bit and couldn't get his breath. He spun over in the churning water and shoved his head and arm up. He wanted to call out to Vin but all he could do was cough and choke up water.
"Buck!" Vin called out, watching Gilbert manuever the horse.
He knew by the angle the other man was trying to ride parallel until a smoother crossing point. He knew this area and knew where that was. So he galloped hard, getting on the bank. He dropped off his horse and ran for Buck.
Buck heard Vin and used what waning strength he had left to swim to the shore. He heard Vin call twice more and headed for that voice. Finally he could crawl and saw legs approaching. He passed out before the tracker grabbed him.
"Shit... yer dead weight!" Vin hissed, his left hand was useless, he couldn't maintain a grip. He turned Buck on his back and grabbed his collar, lugging him inch by inch with his injured back screaming. "Wake the hell up!" he urged, eyeing the tan shirt in the moonlight. Although it was wet, the moonlight did show an area that was stained. He hated to do this but Buck was heavier and now mired in mud. He pushed his hand hard on the stain and a cry rang out. "Sorry... Bucklin... I can't hold ya. The currents t'strong. Ya need t'fight."
"S'okay... slick..." Buck chattered, he was freezing.
He sucked in a breath of air and growled from a place deep inside. He shoved off hard, getting his gangly limbs in order and staggered with Vin's help through the water until they hit land. He kept going, until they found a crop of rocks near the bank. He sagged back against the rocks and felt Vin's right hand moving along his chest.
"Bullet went through, looks like it took a good hunk o'meat along yer ribs." Vin assessed. "I'm jest goin' t'm'saddlebags. I got some tore up shirts in there Ez made fer m'hand. It'll do until the others git here. They outta be along soon."
"...go... on... I'm... okay... he's... gettin'... away..."
"He ain't gonna git far," Vin predicted, leaving the wounded man long enough to get the bandages. The wound was on Buck's right side just at the edge of his ribcage. He packed both front and back and tied several strips together to make a long enough end to go around Bucks waist and hold the clusters of cloth secure. Satisfied, he rose up. Buck immediately began to move, fighting to get his hand to his chest pocket. "Quit it... I ain't got any more cloth. Yer already bleedin'."
"...no... no... shit..." Buck was frantic, trying to rise. A strong hand shoved him back and although he couldn't see the sky eyes, he could feel their fire.
"Cut it out!" Vin warned, then he realized what was wrong. He caught Buck's eye and lowered his voice. He grabbed Buck's chin and made sure the older man could hear hiim. "Ya changed shirts... it's ain't lost."
"Huh"" Buck coughed, shivered and blinked hard at the younger man.
"Chris's coin... it ain't in that shirt. The one ya was wearin' was light colored like cream."
"Fuck... shit..." Buck sighed, sagging back and taking several jagged breaths. "You're... right... it's in the hotel... room... hanging... in... closet..."
"Tell the others not t'chase after, they won't know where t'go and this river is deadly. I'll bring the varmit t'town." Vin rose, his hawklike eyes skirting the river. "One way r'the other."
Buck watched until he couldn't see Vin anymore. He didn't hear any splashing so he assumed Vin had crossed back over. He was worried about Vin, he knew that Gilbert was no match for this skilled friend. The wound was throbbing now and he was fighting to stay awake.
"What's that up there?" JD called out.
"A body." Josiah craned his head to see in the distance.
"Too large for Vin." Ezra galloped ahead. He was off his horse and kneeling by Buck when the other two arrived. "It's Buck, he's been wounded. Vin must have patched him up."
"Where'd he go?" JD asked, dropping to Buck's side. "Buck? Hey, Buck? You okay?"
"No, I'm not okay," Buck hissed, slapping at JD's hand. "Quit pokin' at me. " He turned to Ezra and held out his hand. After taking a liberal dose from the slim flask, he caught his breath. "I got hit... leavin'... the ranch... .I guess he waited for the... right... moment... he elbowed me right in the wound, send me off the horse. Vin... pulled me out... of... the river... after I swallowed half. He... went... he... went..."
"Easy, brother." Josiah hoisted Buck up and took an arm around his shoulder. "We're not far from Grovers Pass. We'll get you to Doctor Franklin."
"Me and Ezra will go after Vin," JD announced.
"No... you... won't..." Buck argued shaking his wet head and coughing hard. He bent forward and clutched his bloody side. "Christ, that hurts."
"You're losin' blood, we gotta get you out of here." Josiah turmed tp Ezra and with his help, got Buck on Josiah's horse and the preacher climbed up after him.
"We can't leave Vin out here," JD blurted.
"How many times you crossed the Rio in the dark?" Buck panted, trying to find JD's young face.
"Well, I haven't but it's a river, I've crossed..."
"Not this one, not in the dark," Josiah agreed. "Vin knows this area, hell, if Gilbert wasn't careful, Vin'll be pullin' his body from the river. You can't see as much as you hand in front of you JD. One wrong step and you and the horse will go under. It's too deep, drops off without notice and the currents too strong. "
"We'll take Mister Wilmington back to town. We still have the matter of the outlaws hitting the surrounding towns to attend to. Our own town is nearly unprotected. Don't forget Mister Tanner is more skilled an adept and tracking vermin on his own that we are as a group."
"He's right," Buck stated. "Vin can move faster in the dark. Gilbert's dead meat. Hell, I bet we run into him going back to town."
"I don't like it," JD huffed. "It's like we're deserting him."
Buck sagged back heavily against Josiah and was glad for the strength of his friend. By the time they hit the main road, he was passed out. His last thought was of Vin and he hoped his hot tempered friend controlled himself when he caught the foul-mouthed Cotton.
Although Cotton had ridden in this area before, he'd not done so in the dark. He struggled to navigate the horse through the murky water with little or no light. Several times he wanted to head on shore but the rocks wouldn't allow it and the hills were steep. Now the river was widening a bit and the water was nipping at this knees. He squinted ahead and thought he saw a flat area. He turned around and craned his neck but didn't see anyone following.
Vin was a skilled rider and his tracking talent led him easily through the brush. He got ahead of Gilbert and kept abreast of him from above. He watched and waited as his prey fought the water and his balance. Finally he saw Gilbert heading for shore. So he guided his horse quietly and then slipped off, securing him to a branch . Pulling his gun, he crept silently until he was only a few yards away. Gilbert was on land and hunched over a bit. From what Vin could see, it looked like he was trying to work the remaining ropes on his hands.
It wasn't the distinctive sound of the click of the gun that caused the chill to creep up his spine. Rather it was the low, lethal tone in the rasp that broke the night air. The cold voice was so close he felt the hot breath on his neck.
"Git down."
He tried to turn the horse but found the reins taken and a gun shoved hard to his crotch. It was clear that this man meant what he said. If he wanted him dead, he would have shot him. What were his intensions? Before he could put a plan of action together, a arm reached up and yanked him, toppling him from the horse. He landed hard the force of the impact released his left hand.
"You can't kill me, I'm not armed." His eyes darted the ground for a rock or anything that could be used as a weapon. He got to his knees but a swift backhand with the gun sent him back and reeling.
"Kill ya?" Vin laughed, putting his gun in the holster and taking it off. The jacket came off next, he carefully laid it over the gun on a rock. " Coudda done that fer the last mile r'so while I tracked ya."
Gilbert saw the long-haired man draw that same knife out that he'd used before. His head was still ringing from the blow by the gun. He licked his lips and his eyes crawled backward until his backside hit a rock. The moon left the clouds and the bright silver light that bathed the other man nearly caused him to urinate. There was a glint in his eye that was far beyond the point of where dangerous ended. Then there was the way he was gripping the knife. But it was the grim smile with a sinister flash of teeth had his guts filling with ice water.
"I give up..." he tried, putting his hands up. "Mercy!"
"Mercy?" Vin spat in disgust at the coward by his boots. "Save that fer yer God. I'm here fer justice."
Gilbert shoved off and tried to knock the other man off balance. He did get to his feet but a hand grabbed the back of his undershirt. He fisted his hand and twisted around, managing to get a solid right and clip the attacker's jaw.
Vin stumbled backwards and sheathed his knife. He grinned and put his own fists up. All the gory images of the various phases of hell the Chris had been put through flashed through his mind. Maybe using his fists would be just as satisfying.
"Either way, it's yer funeral," he snarled when Cotton's eyes went to the secured knife.
Vin pounced, sending both of them to the ground. Then he grabbed the front of Gilbert's bloody shirt with his injured left hand and punched him with his right.
Cotton's head snapped back but he grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it at the other's man's eyes. That caught him off guard and he used his fists well, getting two solid shots in to the jaw and gut. For awhile they wrestled and exchanged blows to body and face. Finally, Vin's left hand was causing him so much pain he decided to end the contest. Gilbert was on his hands and knees, a bit stunned and breathless. Vin staggered to his feet and kicked him as hard as he could in the jaw. He staggered to Buck's horse and took the canteen off. He doused his head and then poured the liquid on his throbbing hand. He took a few minutes to catch his breath and then eyed the prone victim. Try as he might, he could't get Chris's tortured body from his mind. So he took the rope off Buck's horse and walked back over until he stood over Gilbert. He spit a wad of blood and muck onto the twisted man's face.
It was time for payback.
The sudden impact of bright light into a dark room would have been enough to startle him. But as Chris blinked and tried to adjust his eyes to the sudden pain the light caused, he saw Greg on his feet and Josiah steadying him. He saw Nathan and the doctor entering the room.
"Greg?" Chris croaked, gingerly sitting upright in the bed. "What's wrong?"
"I'm fine," Greg answered.
"We're movin' him t'the front room." Nathan moved past Chris to pull the blankets from the now vacant bed.
"Why?" Chris asked. Then he saw Josiah return carrying the front part of Buck with Ezra bringing up the boots. "Buck?" He saw the soggy shirt then, most of one side tinged pink with wet blood. "How bad?"
"I don't know yet," the doctor replied, nodding to a long table at the far end of the room. "But your friends tell me it went through. I will have to open it up to see if any damage was done." He saw the alarm rising in the pale eyes and reassured him. "He's got a good pulse and strong breathing. He's going to be fine."
"One of Parker's guards clipped him as Vin and him we're taking Gilbert away." Josiah turned towards Chris.
"If it's alright with you gentlemen, we should get some rest. We still have the urgent matter at home in the morning." Standish dusted his coat off.
"Okay," Josiah agreed. "JD's takin' care of the horses. We best get some sleep, the sun will be up soon."
"Where's Vin?" Chris asked.
"He's bringin' in Gilbert," Josiah updated. "One way or the other."
Ezra saw Larabee's features creased in puzzlement. "Shortly before reaching this side of the river, Gilbert sent Buck off his horse and took off. Vin rescued Buck and then set off after him."
"We had to get Buck back here, he was losin' blood," Josiah stated. "And only a fool would tangle with that river in the dark." He still worry lines on their blond leader. "He'll be okay, Chris."
"If he's not back by the time we leave, we will go and find him," Ezra vowed.
"It's not Vin I'm worried about," Chris voiced his concern. "Vin don't need another bounty on his head."
Josiah and Ezra exchanged a glance as the doctor turned back. He and Nathan had taken Buck's clothes and a loose sheet was draped over him from the hips down. Nathan left long enough to head for the kitchen and return with a tray of tools with steam rising.
"I'm going to have to ask all of you to leave. Nathan and I need to work here." The doctor eyed Standish and Sanchez. "You can't do anything more for him now. You look exhausted. Get some sleep and by the time breakfast rolls around, he'll be sleeping in the cot next to Chris."
A small campfire was the first thing that Cotton saw when he woke up. The pain in his face from the beating was quickly forgotten when he began to realize where he was. He was on his back and stripped to the waist with his arms tied to something behind him. He tried to move his legs, but they were spreadeagled and also staked down. He saw the long-haired man calmly sharping a knife and chanting in some Indian dialect. There was an acrid odor coming from the fire, he wondered what the man was burning and why. His first thought was that he was going to be scalped. That was enough to begin his heart to pounding and cause his mouth to run dry. Bands of cold sweat began to form in every part of him. Then the man put the knife down and picked up a piece of rope. When the rope was pressed to his throat and down his belly, he began to squirm.
"Quit movin'," Vin warned. "I can't git ya measured."
"M...m...m...meas...ured..." he stammered, his heart slamming hard into his chest.
"Yeah... tryin' to see how many t'bacca pouches I can git from yer topside. Ya bein' so soft... makes real smooth t'bacca pouches. " He eyed the sweat pouring from Gilbert and felt a certain degree of satisfaction. "Course yer back, that's better fer wallets. " He flicked his left wrist which was throbbing again. His right hand was swollen and sore, most likely due to the amount of times he hit Gilbert's hard head. "Course m'hands bein' busted up, that ain't s'good. The peels is likely t'be smaller and tougher..." He paused to eye the trembling man. "Real messy..."
"Puh... puh... peel..." Gilbert squeaked, the pain in his chest was increasing by the minute and it was hard to breathe. He saw the unholy light in the younger man's eyes and an odd smile when the knife was picked up.
"The Kiowa what taught me, he's real good." Vin paused and ran the blade slowly down Gilbert's soaked skin. "He could peel a man from his neck t'his ankles in one peel. How d'ya think we found that mine? That she-devil ya run with didn't wanna talk at first" He cocked his head and held the knife up and gave it a lusty stare. "But once I started peelin' her she squealed like the pig she is."
"You can't... possibly... mean... that's vulgar... something only a heathen would... attempt."
"Heathen!" Vin recoiled in contempt. "Ya tortured and drugged innocent men and sold 'em inta slavery. What the fuck does that make yer black soul?"
"I have money..."
"Good," Vin calmy answered, running the point of the knife around Gilbert's left nipple. "I reckon that'll outfit ya in nice coffin and suit."
"You'll never get away with butchery like this..." He was cut off when a rag was shoved in his mouth.
"Quit yer yammerin!" Vin snapped. "By the time I'm done with ya, what parts is left'll feed the vultures." He paused and put an unnatural glow in his eyes when he stared down at the prey. "Course mebbe I keep the scalp as a trophy. After I git it off, I'll let ya decide. The rest'll be buried long a'fore anyone passes by here." He drank in the extreme fright illustrated and rose. "I got some piano wire in m'saddlebag."
Piano wire.
Cotton's chest hurt so much now it defined words. He'd heard about being scalped and even seen a photo. He didn't doubt for one moment this long-haired man was serious. He was sweating profusely, whimpering beneath his gag and shaking all over. By the time the cold blue eyed man came back with the wire, his bladder was about to empty. When the wire was calmly laid on his abdomen, while the clumsy, swollen fingers tried to undo the buttons on his trousers, the bladder emptied in a hurry. Then the wire was strategically wrapped around all the parts of his now quivering manhood. One end was tied to a sturdy stick.
"Guess maybe I outta rest a minute, m'hands ain't workin' s'good. If I don't flick this right, instead o'them chicken parts o'yers comin' straight off, they only cut part through. It might take two'r three snaps till them fly off. A real bloody mess." Vin glared down at the melting pile of refuse. He waited awhile longer, enjoying the terror rising and engulfing Gilbert. Then he lifted the stick. "This is fer Chris Lar'bee."
There was a series of hooks in the ceiling at the other end of the room. Nathan came over and took the lamp that had been on the table next to Greg. They needed extra light. He gave Chris a confident smile and then left, placing the lamp on a table next to the one where Buck was lying. Then he pulled a curtain over separating them.
Chris couldn't rest nor did he try. He rested his eyes when the headache got bad but he kept listening. He heard the clang of tools and the quiet words the two healers exchanged. Finally, the curtain was pulled open and he sat half way up, leaning on his elbow. Nathan brought the lamp back over and then went to help Doctor Franklin. He waited until they had Buck settled in the bed and covered in blankets before he spoke.
"How'd it go?"
"You should be asleep!" Doctor Franklin observed. Larabee's face was trained on Buck's unmoving form. He saw the concern overlapping with pain in the worn out green eyes. "There were some minor tears in muscle and a nicked rib. He'll be sore and laid up awhile and weak from blood loss, but he'll be able to travel home with you in a wagon in a few days. Get some rest..."
"I will now," Chris answered with a very grateful nod. "Thanks, Doc."
There was something about smelling fresh coffee that just naturally caused you to force your eyes open, even with only a few hours sleep. So Josiah Sanchez was not surprised when Chris Larabee moaned, coughed, cursed and sat up. The light eyes that squinted at him were not happy.
"Mornin' Brother, " Sanchez greeted brightly, lifting his mug . "Ezra, work some magic here."
"I would mention yet again than I have yet to be repaid for the vast amount of liquor that you gentlemen consume."
"Shut up and pour," Josiah suggested, sipped and smiled. "Kentucky's finest. The Lord does appreciate a generous soul."
"Hey..." Chris croaked, sitting up and reaching for a mug of water. "How about some for the invalid?" He downed his water and waited while Ezra got him a mug of spiked coffee.
"We were hoping Vin would be back by now." Josiah misread Chris's eyes that were studying the window.
"He will," Chris stated confidently. He flicked his eyes to Buck's pale face and raspy breathing. "Buck looks shitty."
"...damned near impossible..." the wounded rogue whispered, peeling an eye open and glaring weakly at his oldest friend. "You gonna stay awake?"
"Why?" Chris was curious and his tone echoed that. He brows knit together in suspicion.
"...beddin' next to you... is... like... tryin'... to... sleep... in ... a... sawmill..."
"Fuck you Buck!" The blond retorted, which caused Buck to chuckle painfully.
"Don't... that hurts..." Wilmington clutched his bandaged side.
"As soon as we eat, we're gonna head out," Josiah updated Chris. "There's trouble in the territory and we need to get home before it gets there first They're already short with all of us gone."
"Yeah," Chris agreed, then looked up when Nathan came into the room. "Mornin' Nate." He eyed the material folded neatly in the healer's hands. It looked like dark flannel pants and a dark green shirt. He winked at Josiah then. "Looks like my bail arrived."
"Don't go gettin' cocky," Nate warned. "Gettin' Greg up last night put me in mind o'this. Yuhr legs need some work. I just got him settled outside and yuhr next. We're gonna go slow and easy. These are loose and should be soft next t'yuhr skin. It's nice outside and Mrs. Franklin's gonna serve breakfast on the porch. It'll do yuh good t'sit in the air a spell."
"Lead on," Chris agreed.
It was almost eight and the men were enjoying eggs, pancakes, ham, biscuits and coffee on the porch. Buck was confided to his bed and already back asleep, thanks to Nate's medicinal tea. JD finished his second plate of food and headed for the table again.
"You keep eatin' that way, son and you're gonna need a new pants,' Josiah warned.
"Listen, preacher," JD retorted, stabbing an unfortunate pancake hard. His thought died when from where he stood, he saw a rider slowly coming towards the house. Not just any rider. One with long hair, a floppy hat and a hide coat. "VIN!"
Except for Chris and Greg, the others scrambled to their feet and joined Dunne at the far end of the porch. Ezra pushed past them and ran down the steps and onto the street. Josiah had sense enough to go back and ease the rocker Chris was sitting in covered in a blanket closer to the porch rail. He followed Standish and Dunne was right behind him.
"Gentlemen, a little help?" Ezra called out when Vin's horse stopped in the center of the street. "Good Lord..."
"Vin?" JD's voice died when he saw his friend's battered face.
Vin didn't reply, at this point, just breathing consumed what little strength he had left. But he lifted his bleary eyes to find the blond warrior on the porch. Seeing Chris dressed and outside was a great reward. But when the pale green eyes met his and Larabee's fist moved to tap his heart, Vin had his true reward. Painfully, he repeated the gesture.
Chris wasn't sure what Vin had done in the hours between dark and dawn out in the wilderness. He didn't know if Gilbert was still alive and he didn't care. Just that Vin had taken his battered body onto a horse and painfully endured the miles to seek justice on his behalf, that was enough. He knew that every new bruise Vin wore was worth it and that Vin knew it too.
Ezra went to Buck's horse, which was tied to Vin's. Draped over it and tied down was the missing man, Cotton Gilbert. Ezra's hand found the neck and a pulse. By the time he got the ropes untied, Josiah was next to him and easily lifted the culprit down. The first thing the prisoner did was reach between his legs to feel around. A choking sigh of relief caused more confusion among the peacekeepers standing next to him.
"Jesus, he looks like his face hit every rock in the river," Chris commented at the raw, mangled features.
"Weren't no rock," Vin whispered when Josiah's large form appeared in front of him. He managed to lift his face and cast his best, cocky grin. "...got me some justice... Old Testament like..."
"Music to my ears," Sanchez agreed with a smile. "You look like ten miles of bad road, son."
"Git up!" Vin snarled, eyeing the stuperous prisoner on the ground. Although Ezra and Josiah had taken him off the horse, his knees buckled and he was sagging. Vin leaned over and glared hard. "Don't make me ask ya again. "
Ezra and Josiah were as confused as their friends on the porch. Although no words were spoken, it was clear that something much heavier and deadly hung between every one of Vin's words. The stare they shared was long enough for Gilbert to begin to shake and sweat profusely.
"A...w... right... aw...right... just... don't... just..." Gilbert turned to the men holding his arms. "You the law? I'm confessin'. I did it all, robbed... the men... lots of... them... beat... them... drugged... sold... to... to... a mine... in Mexico...."
"As touched as I am," Ezra warned, hauling him up. "you're wastin' you're putrid breath. But we will be certain to make the Judge aware of your unsavory presence." He turned to the others. "Gentlemen, you all witnessed his confession?"
"Sure did," JD chimed, his eyes hot.
"Heard 'im clear as dirt," Nathan said, winking to the swaying Vin.
"I don't think I heard him clear," Chris stated in a low tone just shy of deadly.
"Me neither," Greg agreed.
"Ya heard 'em," Vin snapped, nodding to the porch. "Git yer mangy hide over there and say it again." When Gilbert balked, Vin only moved one leg over as if to dismount and that was enough.
"Okay... okay..." Gilbert backed up and turned to Josiah. "Keep him away from me. I'll sign anything, just don't let him near me."
Having seen and read what this man had done over the past several years and the dozens of lives he commited to a painful and premature death, they all wondered just what Vin Tanner could have done in the lost hours of the night prior that would cause such a reaction.
Gilbert managed to get to the porch steps and Vin caught Josiah's eye. He nodded to the grip that Ezra and he had on the prisoner. The gray-haired man caught the Southerner's eye and the dropped their hold. Gilbert went to his hands and knees.
"Outta be easy enough fer ya, given ya got no spine like most worms." Vin kept his heated eyes on Gilbert who crawled to where Chris Larabee sat.
"Stench is famliar," Greg said, walking to where Chris was sitting.
Gilbert found it difficult to raise his eyes to meet those of the two men he'd sent to the hellhole south of the border. He stammered badly, they continued to glare at him and with every word he confessed, he felt as if his skin was on fire. Finally, it was done.
"I won't ask for forgiveness..."
"Good, because you ain't gettin' it," Larabee cut him off. He leaned forward until he was just inches from the battered face. "You take a good look, you maggot-eatin' vulture, and get to know my face. Because you'll be seein' it in the front row for every fuckin' day of your trial. And if the Judge decides to let you swing, I'll be the last thing you see before your sorry ass hits the gates of Hell."
"I'm only sorry we didn't haul you in," Greg added.
"Would't have been anything to haul," Chris decreed, burning a hole into the quivering mass of flesh with his eyes. He cleared his throat and spit hard, hitting Gilbert in the forehead.
"You better move him, before I let go of the bile coming up," Wilson dictated.
"Come on, you got a lot of confessin' to do," Josiah said, grabbing the back of the man's collar.
"It should make for an entertaining afternoon, given your neighbor in the jail." Standish grinned, his gold tooth catching the sun.
"Oh, I imagine she'll have a lot to say," Josiah agreed.
Cotton couldn't bring himself to look at Vin Tanner. He didn't have to see the fury in the young man's eyes. He couldn't get that raspy voice from his head no matter how he tried. He'd been blindfolded most of the night and disoriented enough not to know what was real or not . The burning debris in the fire made his head swim. But that voice in his ear never wavered. The hot breath ran down his cheek, the words turned bloody, when the incidents were recalled of what other two-legged prey he'd captured during his days with the Indians and what he'd done to them. Every small detail was recalled.
For hours the knife and wire prayed on his mental state, coupled with the horror stories and the noise of the woods, it was enough to scare him good. But what really put the fear of God in him, was the vow the long-haired man made as he rolled him over on his belly that dawn. A knee was pressed to his back and his head yanked up by the scalp. For the longest moments of his life, the tip of the knife traced a line around his scalp. Tanner had warned him that if he wasn't lucky enough to die by the Judge's decree, he'd be sorry. And Cotton didn't doubt that. Tanner promised to be the first face he saw should he be set free one day and the last he'd see by that sunset which would be his last.
But as they got him down the porch steps, he did make the mistake of turning and all the buckskinned man did was move his arm and caress his knife. Then he licked his lips and grinned. It conjured up every dark fear that consumed him and it was as if he heard the souls of every man he'd sent across the border. He heard a multitude of screams inside his head and then everything went black.
"Dammit!" Sanchez swore. "He couldn't of held out a little longer? He stinks to high heaven."
"You sure it's him?" Nathan asked, wrinking his nose at Josiah's soiled clothes.
"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," Josiah answered.
Ezra knelt down to check for a pulse, given the battered body, it was unclear if there was damage they couldn't see. "He reeks or urine and bowel debris," he stated, eyeing Gilbert's unmarred chest and back.
"Guess you scared the shit outta him, Vin," Chris chirped, grinning at the Texan. He wasn't sure if Vin was even aware. He didn't know what force was still keeping him in the saddle.
"I can't find a wound." Standish decided, rising when the smell got to great.
"Maybe you won't," Chris concluded, trying to decide if he was happy that Vin caught the bastard and got back in one piece of angry that it wasn't him that went hunting. He knew Vin was cagey enough to have done damage that wouldn't show. He wondered just what threats were issued and how strong.
Ezra and Josiah carried Gilbert across the street to the sheriff's office. A few moments later, they appeared on the street and crossed back over.
"JD? Can you find the Judge? Let him know he has a customer?" Sanchez said, wondering why Vin hadn't gotten down from his horse yet. "Vin?"
"Okay," JD agreed, "I'll take care of the horses." He gathered the reins of Buck's horse and moved to the front of Tanner's. He no sooner got the leather in his hand when Vin began to sway a bit.
"Josiah!" Chris warned when Tanner's eyelids fluttered .
"I got 'im." Sanchez caught him and carried him onto the porch. He laid him down on the broad expance of whitewashed planks. Nathan quickly moved in and his hand went to Vin's neck first, then he cupped the square jaw and lifted the eyelid that wasn't swollen shut.
"Damn," Larabee noted, watching Josiah lift Vin's swollen right hand. He watched carefully as the healer knelt down to give Vin a quick check. "He's not hit, is he? Seems he's picked up a talent for hiding bullets."
"I think he's just wore out," Nathan advised, having checked VIn's eyes, pulse and breathing. "His back wasn't upta ridin' yet. It's a wonder he got back here without fallin 'off that horse. Once I get him inside, I'll strip him down and check him good, just in case."
"This was the good hand, right?" Josiah asked, gingerly easing Tanner's right hand back down.
"I hope t'hell that ain't broke," Nathan sighed hard. "He ain't gonna be fit t'live with if he can't use either hand. Be like him havin' a triple Tanner cold." They had all suffered through the perils of Vin's cranky state when he got a cold, he was nearly impossible to live with.
Josiah and Ezra looked at each other and began to speak at once.
"Well, as much as we'd like to stay and assist Mister Tanner in those delicate matters," Ezra began.
"Duty calls," Josiah ended, tapping Vin's listless cheek and rising.
"Cowards," Chris called out as the pair left.
Chris realized that Nathan and the doctor would be examining Vin. With Buck already in there, he would be crowded them. So he remained on the porch with Greg. Greg followed them inside and waited a few moments. He saw Nathan nod that there was no new wounds and went back to update Chris. Like his blond friend, he was glad to be in the fresh air. He held out his coffee mug and the younger man went to the nearby table and filled both from a silver pot.
"No new wounds, looks like Vin is worn out is all."
"He earned it," Larabee touted.
"Don't know if I ever met anyone as determined as your friend, Vin." Greg handed the mug over and eased himself down into a chair. The morning breeze lifted his hair and he inhaled deeply, enjoying the refreshing embrace.
"Vin can get downright ornery when he's huntin'" Chris's voice tinged with pride. "Wish to hell I was with him."
"I hear that," Greg agreed, tapping his mug against the other. He saw the blond turn away, swallow very hard and study the horizon. He knew CHris must be full of emotion and allowed him that quiet time to compose himself.
Chris thought on all that Vin had gone to on his behalf. From hunting down Gilbert to begin with, gaining the information on the mine in Mexico and the rescue there. But risking his life to go into Texas to bring Gilbert back went beyond the call and Larabee would not soon forget that effort.
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