Part 6
Vin Tanner was at the bedside when Larabee opened his eyes on the forth morning since his rescue. The fever continued to be a problem for the injured man and Jackson made sure they kept him cooled him down with water. Whoever’s turn it was to stand vigil also made sure they gave the gunslinger the teas and broth Jackson supplied each time he was awake.
Vin knew this was the last of the medicinal tea and worried what would happen if the gambler didn’t return soon. He smiled tiredly as two green eyes met his. “Hey, Cowboy, how’re you feelin’?”
Larabee swallowed with some difficulty before answering. “F...feel like shit, V...Vin.”
“I bet ya do. I’m sorry, Chris, sorry we didn’t get ta ya before he did this...”
The gunslinger shook his head and interrupted. “N...no, Vin...not your fault. N...no way to k...know w...what he r...really was. F...fooled e...everyone...”
“Didn’t fool you. Ya knew somethin’ was wrong with him the minute he stepped off the stage.”
“J...just a f...feeling, Vin. G...guess I w...was right,” he coughed and held his chest.
Tanner held a cloth in front of the cracked lips to catch the crud that came up. He prayed this wouldn’t turn into another full scale attack. He lifted the gunslinger forward and held him against his arm.
Larabee’s eyes grew wide for a few seconds, but he was able to get it under control. He was grateful for the steel strength that held him. He knew if the arms were withdrawn there’d be nothing holding him in position and he’d have fallen from the bed. “I...I’m ok, Vin...stopped,” he said breathlessly.
The sharpshooter eased him back to the bed and picked up the cloth on the table. He washed the injured man’s face and nodded at the whispered ‘thanks’. “Got some mor’a Nate’s tea fer ya.”
“S...shit, t...tired of t...that s...stuff...”
“I heard that.” Jackson smiled as he entered the room. The sharpshooter moved out of the way so the healer could examine the gunslinger. “How are you feeling, Chris?” he asked as he felt the pale forehead.
“T...tired...lot of p...pain in my c...chest.”
“I know you do Chris,” Jackson said sympathetically. “You’ve got some broken ribs on both sides and a long gash as well. It’s not too deep but it took a lot of stitches to close up. You’ve also got a lot of congestion in your lungs and you really need to keep coughing to get it up.”
“C...coughing h...hurts,” Larabee rasped, the truth evidenced by his ravaged throat. His eyes were sunk into his head and surrounded by dark circles. The bruises on his face were starting to fade, but still were evidence of the brutal torment he’d endured.
Although they were forcing liquids into him the blond’s lips were cracked. The healer knew from experience knew the fever was sapping whatever moisture his patient was able to take in. The small amounts of tea, broth and water often came back up and Jackson worried that his friend wouldn’t have the strength he needed to fight his way back. His soulful brown eyes showed the concern he felt not only as a healer, but as a friend. He placed a hand on the blond’s shoulder and spoke softly.
“I know coughing hurts, Chris, but it really is necessary. The more of this stuff you get off your lungs the better, so don’t fight it. Now let’s see about getting this tea into you and keeping it there. Okay?” The sweat soaked blond head dipped once, but no sound escaped the parched throat. Jackson held the warm liquid to the mouth and helped the injured man drink.
Slowly, painfully the gunslinger finished the tea and waited for the inevitable. He hated the feeling that grew in his stomach and fought it. His eyes betrayed the pain he was in and he felt the sharpshooter ease down beside him. He felt the younger man’s hand join the healers and knew they were trying to sooth him. The pain in his chest escalated as the first of many coughs tore from him. His eyes grew panicked as he looked at the two men.
“Vin, just hold him forward while I get the herbs and set up the tent!” the healer snapped as he hurried away from the bed. Things were done quickly in order to ease the suffering of the weakened man.
Wilmington and Dunne joined them in the room and soon the tent was back over Chris Larabee. The hacking sound emanating from under the sheet scared each man, yet they knew from Nathan’s explanation how important it was for the blond to do it.
Larabee held his hands to his chest as Tanner clasped him within the confines of his strong arms. He felt the painful sensations easing and his mind slowly surrendered to the call of sleep. Jackson’s eyes met Tanner’s and the two men breathed a sigh of relief. The sharpshooter eased the lean body back to the pillows and eased out from under the sheet. A fine sheen of sweat shone on his forehead as he stood away from the bed.
“Is he alright, Vin?” Wilmington asked worriedly.
“As alright as he can be considerin’ what that son of a bitch did ta him,” Tanner hissed. “I need ta go for a ride,” he explained. “I won’t be gone long,” and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Wilmington asked as the younger man reached the outer door.
The sharpshooter met the other man’s tired gaze and knew he wanted the truth. “I’m gonna go back and make sure he’s dead!”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No, Buck, Nate needs ya ‘ere. I’m jest gonna see if there was anyway he coulda got outta there. It won’t take long to check the area.”
“Alright, Vin, but you watch your scrawny back. Chris needs us all here and I aim to see that he gets what he needs.”
Tanner sighed as he headed out the door into the late morning sunlight. He wrapped his buckskin jacket around himself, knowing the chill was from the thought of Maguire and nothing to do with the temperature. He hurried towards the barn, saddled Peso and mounted him. He gently kicked the side of the animal and they raced forward. He could feel Wilmington’s eyes following him and was glad the ladies man would be there when Chris woke up.
He rode hard and fast, wanting to find out whether the serial killer would be coming after his friend. ‘Ya’d best be dead, Maguire or yer gonna find out all ‘bout torture the Commanch’ way and ya’ll pay fer what ya did to Chris Larabee,’ he thought angrily.
As soon as he came upon the site of the cavern he pulled Peso to a stop and tied him to a branch of a dead tree. He swore softly as he realized the entrance to the cave was totally obliterated. He wondered there were any other entrances. He remembered seeing the ground crumble and cover the vile man who’d tortured and killed so many. He walked towards the opening and tried to pull some of the rocks and debris out of the way. He knew it was a futile effort as each time he removed one many more took its place. An hour later he sank to his knees and breathed deeply. Sweat and dirt lined his face and clothes. A thin stream of blood rolled down his right cheek, evidence of the injury he received when a fair sized rock tumbled from the top and hit him above the eye. He knew there was no way Maguire could have escaped through this entrance. Breathing heavily he moved towards Peso and mounted up. He gasped as his mind finally registered the pain in his lower back, hands and fingers. He looked at the broken nails and scraped knuckles, indicative of just how hard he’d been digging through the rubble at the cave. He rode around the side of the hill, checking for another entrance. Three hours later he turned away from the area and headed back towards the farm, praying that Chris Larabee would still be alive once he got there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Josiah, Ezra and Mary rode through the long hours, not wavering in their efforts to get to the injured man. The extra horse helped carry the supplies they thought would be needed.
By the time they crested the ridge and slowly began the final trek of their journey they were tired beyond the point of exhaustion.
The Gambler knew they were close to the farm now and he turned to his companions. He pulled his horse to a stop and made sure they did the same. “Just to forewarn you, he's in a deplorable condition”
“I know that, Brother. You told us what that madman did to him,” Sanchez told him
“I know I did, but I still think you’ll be shocked by what you’re going to see. Especially you, Mrs. Travis. I want you prepared for the atrocities inflicted on Mr. Larabee’s person.”
“Thank you, Ezra, but I assure you I’ll be fine. How much further is it?”
“Maybe another hour,” Standish explained. He looked up at the sound of an approaching horse. He sighed as he realized it was Vin Tanner. He knew where the other man had been and knew why he’d gone there. “Mr. Tanner, did you find anything?” he asked as the tracker pulled Peso to a stop beside them.
“The cave’s completely buried. There’s no way in hell the bas...” he stopped and glanced at Mary. “Maguire’s dead. There’s no way he could’ve gotten out before it collapsed. We all saw it bury him, Ez. I jest wanted ta make sure.”
“How is Chris?” Mary asked worriedly.
“He’s still breathin’ Mary. Ain’t in very good shape, but ya know Chris. He’ll fight the devil and beat the odds. Right Ez?” the sharpshooter looked to the gambler for confirmation.
“Absolutely,” Standish agreed.
“We’d better get goin’. Nate’s outta supplies and he’s worried about Chris gettin’ pneumonia. Bastard had ‘im tied up in a cave with nothin’ on,” Tanner explained, apologizing again as he realized his language might offend he blond haired woman.
“It’s okay, Vin. I understand how you feel,” Mary assured him. “You’d better let me take a look at your hands and head she suggested.
“It ain’t bad right now, Mary, ‘sides we got nuthin’ ‘ere ta fix it up wit’.”
“I think we better get these things to Nathan so he can make sure Brother Chris stays with us,” Sanchez supplied, knowing the healer would look after the stubborn Texan no matter how much he protested. Without another word five horses moved in the direction of the farm.
~~~~~~~~~
Chris watched the healer as his head bobbed. He knew the man was exhausted and he knew he was the cause of it. He tried not to move, not to breath to deeply, knowing either would set his body on fire again. He was hot and cold at the same time. The pain from the injuries was slowly growing worse and he didn’t want to make things worse. He knew Nathan was out of supplies. The healer was making sure he drank water, but even the small amount he took in seemed to make his stomach churn. He tried to suppress a cough, but soon felt a full blown attack come over him.
Jackson was wide awake and out of his chair before the first cough finished. He sat on the bed and helped his friend sit forward. He ignored the weak gasps of pain coming from the injured man. He held him as gently as he could, but knew his touch was still causing pain. He looked to the door as Wilmington and Dunne entered the room.
“What can we do, Nathan?” the ladies man asked worriedly.
“Pass me that cloth, Buck. I got nothing to give him until Ezra gets back here.”
Wilmington passed the healer the wet cloth and watched as he wiped the battered face. He moved to the opposite side of the bed and sat so he was facing his friend. He waited for the coughing to subside and bit back a gasp as he looked into the fever bright eyes. “Hey, Chris, how’re you doing?” he asked as Jackson eased the blond back on the bed.
“D...don’t feel so g...good right now, Buck,” Larabee rasped tiredly.
“I bet,” the moustached man said as he took the cloth from the healer and slowly bathed his friends face and neck. “You’re gonna be just fine, Chris. Hell, we’re not ready to let you go. You gotta keep fighting.”
“I am, B...Buck,” Larabee smiled thinly. He felt like shit, yet he knew there was no way these men would let him give up. He tried to keep some of the pain from his face, but knew he was failing miserably. He looked from Buck, to Nathan to JD and could see the worry etched on his friends faces. A deep sadness struck him as he realized he was the cause of those lines. He sighed and closed his eyes, hoping to hide the sorrow he felt. A hand on his shoulder made him open tired green eyes.
“We’re here for you, Chris.”
Larabee smiled at the youngest member of their group. He knew JD Dunne grew up fast and that he was still learning the harsh realities of life in the west. “T...thanks, K...Kid,” he said gratefully.
Nathan felt Larabee’s forehead, concerned that the fever was continuing to rise. The heat was sapping the small amount of liquids they could get to stay inside him. His eyes met Wilmington’s and he saw the same emotions in the blue eyes. “We need to keep giving him water until Ezra gets back here. I should’ve brought more supplies with me,” the healer said.
“D...doing what you can, N...Nathan,” Larabee’s eyes were closed, but he wasn’t asleep. He heard the pain in the healer’s voice and knew he was blaming himself. “N...not your fault.”
Jackson smiled at his friend, knowing Larabee was trying to ease his conscience. He waited a few minutes, praying that the man would sleep for a while. He looked towards the ladies man again and muttered. “I wish there was a real doctor here.”
“Y...you’re the... best d...doctor I ever m...met, Nathan,” Larabee’s tremulous voice whispered as he finally gave into the call of sleep.
The words of faith from his injured friend brought a hint of a smile to the dark skinned healer. He could see Larabee’s confidence on the face of the other two men in the room and wondered why they gave that faith so easily. They settled down beside the injured man, keeping watch and making sure he stayed with them. A signal passed between them, one that they all recognized as a unified effort to save a friend.
They lost track of time as they sat in the room. Shadows lengthened as the sun dipped below the horizon. Still the man on the bed labored for each breath. The sound was harsh to the ears of the three men standing watch.
Buck, JD and Nathan looked at each other as the sound of riders came through the open window.
JD hurried to the front of the house and pulled open the door. His excited voice carried back to the men in the bedroom. “Its Vin and Ezra and they got Josiah and Mary Travis with them.”
“Thank, God,” Jackson sighed in relief, turning to the ladies man. “Stay with him, Buck. I’m gonna get some tea on to boil and get more of those herbs boiling. Call me if he needs something before I get this stuff ready.”
“I will, Nate,” Wilmington assured him.
The weary healer hurried into the other room and out the door. He smiled at Mary Travis as she passed him carrying supplies into the house. Vin and Ezra carried food and bandages into the house, leaving Nathan and Josiah alone outside the house. Jackson didn’t miss the injury to the Texan’s head or the grimace of pain as he lifted the supplies. His eyes also noted the bloodied fingers on both hands and made a mental note to care for them as soon as he finished taking care of the gunslinger.
“How is he, Nathan?” Sanchez asked.
Jackson looked into the ex-preacher’s eyes and knew this man understood the emotional turmoil he was going through. “He’s not good, Josiah, but now that you’re here with the supplies things will get better.”
Josiah Sanchez knew him longer than any of the others and he could read the pain in Nathan’s brown eyes. He knew the healer was harder on himself than anyone else. His friend strived to heal the injured with everything he learned over the years. Sometimes that seemed inadequate, but what Jackson lacked in the way of school learning he more than made up for in experience. “Nathan, we’re all here now, including Mary Travis. I think between the seven of us and a little Divine intervention he’ll pull through.”
The healer nodded slowly as he helped Sanchez with the last of the supplies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mary walked slowly into the bedroom, biting back a gasp as she saw the two occupants, one so beaten and battered, the other in obvious emotional pain as he stood watch over his friend. Mary remembered the day Buck Wilmington told her about Chris’s family. She knew the private gunslinger was mad that his friend betrayed his trust, yet Mary knew the two men would do anything for each other.
Buck heard soft footsteps and looked up at the pretty blonde woman. “Mary,” he said softly.
“How is he, Buck?” she asked as Wilmington stood up to give her his seat.
“He’s in bad shape, Mary, but he’s fighting.”
“Of course he is,” she smiled as a pair of glazed green eyes opened and looked at her. “Hello, Chris,” she said.
“M...Mary,” he rasped. His eyes turned to Wilmington and the ladies man knew what was coming.
“Easy, Chris. Mary, can you tell Nathan I need him?” Wilmington asked as he slid in beside his friend. He didn’t bother to wait for an answer as he lifted the blond forward, taking the weight on his arm. He felt the first hacking cough and silently swore on Robert Maguire’s soul. He looked up as Nathan hurried into the room. “This is a bad one, Nate,” he hissed.
“I see that. Chris?” Jackson knelt in front of the sick man, trying to get him to focus his attention on him. “Listen to me, Chris. Josiah and Ezra brought me the herbs I need to help you. They are steeping right now. The teas will help with the pain and the fever,” He turned to JD and Vin as they came into the room. “Set up the tent again and bring in the herb remedy.”
The sharpshooter nodded and hurried out of the room, returning in less than a minute with a basin of steaming water. He placed the basin on the bed and with Dunne’s help pulled the sheet down over the three men. Vin looked to the door and saw Mary’s horror stricken face. He went to her and held her close. He felt her soft sobs as she fought to keep silent. No words of comfort were said, none were needed, both knew how much the injured man meant to them all.
Chris felt the pain in his chest ease and a cloth was quickly wiped over his face. He breathed deeply, taking in the medicinal steam, feeling it ease the burning sensation in his lungs. He felt Wilmington and Jackson ease him back on his pillows and hated what his weakness was doing to them. He knew they were worried and felt helpless and he would’ve loved to put them at ease. At the same time he knew he needed their friendship more than all the medications combined. He let his eyes slide closed and relished in the knowledge that his friends were there and he wouldn’t have to face anything alone.
“Nathan, I have the teas.”
“Chris, don’t go to sleep just yet,” the medic ordered. “Josiah’s got something I need you to drink.”
“J...Josiah’s here?” Larabee opened his eyes and looked around the dull interior.
“I’m right here, Brother,” Sanchez said as he took Wilmington’s place under the sheet. He kept his face blank and forced a smile in spite of the shock of seeing the injuries on the man he respected as both a friend and leader. “Now why don’t you drink the teas and we’ll let you get some rest.”
Larabee nodded and soon felt a cup to his lips. He sipped at it until the liquid disappeared and did the same to the second one. He remembered seeing the blonde haired newspaper woman and spoke softly. “M...Mary here?”
“She’s here; she insisted on coming once Ezra told her they found you. Now why don’t we get you comfortable and let you sleep.”
“...am kinda t...tired, Josiah.”
“Just close your eyes and sleep, Chris. One of us will stay with you.”
“A...always do.”
The cloudy green eyes closed and Jackson pulled back the sheet. He sat back and rubbed tired eyes. They still had a hard fight ahead of them, but with the additional supplies and medicines he knew Larabee’s chances of survival were better. He looked at the six healthy people in the room with him, his eyes coming to rest on the sharpshooter. “Vin, I’d better take a look at your head and your hands.”
“It’ll keep till you get some rest, Nathan,” the tracker assured him.
“I’ll rest once I clean those wounds. There’s so much dirt packed into the wounds on your hands that infection’ll set in pretty fast. Now JD’s gonna stay with Chris while the rest of us get some sleep. Look, all of you, I’m tired and Chris is gonna need all our help. That means we have to do this in shifts. JD’s shift starts now, since he just got up. The rest of us will sleep as long as we can, eat when we’re awake and spend the rest of the time making sure we keep that man in the world of the living. Because I for one, have no intention of losing that man. So just do what I’m asking you too and we’ll all get along just fine,” Jackson told them, leaving no room for arguments. “Mary, will you give me a hand with Vin?”
“Of course, Nathan,” the woman said as she followed the weary tracker into the other room.
Jackson took a clean basin and poured warm water into it. He walked to the scarred wood table and placed it on top. He poured a small amount of Carbolic acid into the liquid and mixed it well. “Vin, I want you to put your hands in there and let them soak. Mary, can you clean the wound on his head for me?” He turned his eyes back to the sharpshooter and asked, “How bad’s that back?”
“It’s fi... Its not too bad yet, Nathan.” He met Jackson’s eyes and knew the healer could see right through him.
Nathan knew the tracker wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he let it drop for now. He watched as Mary finished cleaning the wound above Tanner’s eye and was relieved to see it wasn’t as bad as he first thought. As long as it was kept clean the younger man wouldn’t have any problems. He took a small bandage and placed it over the wound, wrapping another piece of material around his head and tying it at the back to hold the first piece in place.
Jackson sat heavily in the chair next to Tanner’s, rested his elbows on the table and placed his face in his open hands. He rubbed at tired eyes and sighed deeply. No matter how often he did this it never got any easier. Taking a deep breath he lifted his head and turned his attention to the younger man’s hands. He was pleased to see the dirt was soaked away from the skin. He took the now sullied water, dumped it and brought back the basin filled with clean warm liquid. He placed Vin’s hands in it for a few minutes and then lifted them out.
Tanner remained quiet all through the healer’s and Mary’s ministrations. He knew Nathan was exhausted and yet the healer always did a thorough job when it involved his expertise. He balked when Nathan took out more bandages, but one look from the deep brown eyes stopped him before he had a chance to say anything. He watched as the former slave slowly wrapped clean bandages around both hands. The material was thin and he would be able to bend his fingers slightly.
“That’s it. Just keep those on for a day or two and you’ll be able to use your hands. I got something to rub into your back.” He took a small jar and had Vin lift his shirt. He rubbed a liberal amount on the sharpshooter’s back and replaced the shirt. “Mary,” Jackson turned to the blonde woman. “Thanks for helping me.”
“You’re welcome, Nathan,” she assured him.
“You’ve had a long ride so get some rest. You too, Vin, I think the others are already bedded down. JD’ll call us if anything happens,” he said, staring at the sharpshooter, almost daring him to disagree. He smiled as he watched the younger man stand up and head for his bedroll. Mary walked to the small, well worn sofa and lied down. Nathan smiled and moved to his own bedroll. It wasn’t long before they were all sleeping.
"Hey Doc?"
The weary ex-Union medic turned at the soft drawl and cocked his head. Two blue-eyes, half mast, peered at him from the Texan's bedroll. The bandage was worn like a badge of honor and the mitten-like hands fumbled awkwardly.
"Thanks..."
"Get that mangy head down!" the soft brown eyes replied, with a wide smile.
JD stood in the door and glanced around the room. He smiled as he saw the sleeping forms spread out around the living room. They’d been sleeping for nearly four hours now and he knew they all needed it. He realized all it would take was the sound of his voice or a weak cough or moan from the injured man and they’d all be wide awake and in the room with him. He turned and walked back to the chair by the bed. he picked up the cloth and slowly bathed the sweat soaked forehead. He cursed the hated man who in his sick mind thought he could possess the gunslinger’s soul. JD smiled as he realized no one would ever do that. The blond may be hurt and sick, but nothing or nobody could weaken his spirit, which in turn strengthened his soul. He admired Chris Larabee, admired him for being a man who was able to live with the pain of losing the family he loved more than anything. He knew Chris almost lost that battle, but in claiming the victory he’d come out a better man.
“You’ll win this one too, Chris,” JD whispered and was surprised when a hand reached out and clasped his. He looked at the bandages covering the wrists and most of the arm and swallowed painfully. He forced a smile to his face and spoke softly. “Can I get you anything?”
“T...thirsty,” Larabee muttered.
“I got something for you right here,” JD grinned as he reached for the cup of tepid willow bark tea. He knew how important it was to get the injured man to drink it. He eased the cup to the still swollen lips and watched as the gunslinger sipped at it, all the while fighting to keep the grimace off his face.
“T...thanks, K...Kid,” Larabee managed a thin smile as he saw the look of pride on the young easterner’s face.
“You want some water now, Chris?” at the slight nod of the blond head, JD placed the glass of cool water to his lips and waited for the older man to drink his fill. He moved the glass back to the table when he noted the look of panic in the green eyes. “Nathan says you shouldn’t fight it, Chris. He says it’ll make you feel better.”
“D...don’t h...help,” Larabee moaned as the oncoming coughs once more tore through him. He felt hands lift him forward, but didn’t know whose or how many. He didn’t know how long the attack lasted, but he felt someone sit on the opposite side of the bed. Voices talked to him, but what they said didn’t reach him. All his energy was focused on getting past this new round of agony. He leaned heavily into the arm holding him as he felt the urge ease a little and he was able to take a breath without it tearing his lungs from his chest. He heard their frantic voices and wanted to assure them he was alright now, but he couldn’t find his voice. His eyes drifted closed and his head remained pressed against the young sheriff’s arm.
“N...Nathan,” JD’s voice was desperate as he felt the body go slack in his arms. He watched the healer’s frantic movements as he lifted the gunslinger back to the pillows.
Jackson’s fear that they’d lost their friend was short lived as he felt the pulse in the neck. “He’s still with us, but we need to get this damn fever down before it saps everything from him. JD,” he called to the pale young man. “JD!” he repeated a little more forcefully until the eyes focused on him, “Did he drink anything?”
“T...the tea and some w...water. Is he okay?”
“He’s okay for now, Kid. Mary, take JD outside so he can get some air,” he ordered. He wanted to strip the wet blankets off the bed and check Larabee’s wounds, but he didn’t want the dedicated widow seeing the full extent of the injuries for the moment. He knew she would do as he asked because the kid was so pale he looked as if he would pass out on the spot. The shock of having his mentor go still in his arms weighed heavily on the young man and Jackson knew he needed to get out of the room for a while. He watched as Mary led the sheriff from the room before turning his attention to the sharpshooter. “Vin, you can’t do much with your hands like that.”
“I can help, Nathan.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t help, Vin. I said you can’t do much. Look, we’re gonna need to move Chris off the bed so’s we can change the sheets. Josiah, Ezra, bring in some extra blankets and spread them on the floor. When they get that done I want you sitting there, Vin. Me, Buck, Ezra, and Josiah will lift Chris from the bed and place him beside ya. You’ll need to keep him sitting so he breaths easier. Understand?” Jackson asked as Sanchez and Standish spread the blankets over the floor.
“Yeah,” Tanner hissed as he sat on the blankets. He watched as the four men lifted the partially nude body from the bed and gently placed him in front of him. They eased him down so the gunslinger leaned into the sharpshooter’s chest. He smiled as Buck placed a blanket over the blond, a silent reassurance passing from one man to the other. Vin watched as the others moved quickly around the bed, changing the sheets, blanket and pillow cases in order to make it more comfortable for the injured man. He looked down at the bandaged body he held and although he couldn’t see his face he knew his friend was awake. He’d felt the change instinctively. “Chris, ya ‘wake?”
“T...think so,” came the weak reply.
“How’re ya feelin’?”
“H...hot, t...tired, s...sick,” Larabee answered softly.
“Well, Cowboy, yer ‘urt pretty bad, but Nate’s gonna fix ya up as good as new.”
“H...how long h...have we b...been here?”
“Close ta five days now. Ya been in an’ outta it mos’ of the time. Ya been fightin’ one ‘ell of a fever too.” Tanner saw the others watching him and knew they were leaving the two friends alone. This marked the first time the gunslinger was awake and breathing a little easier. He quickly turned his attention back to the man in front of him.
Larabee moaned as he twisted to face the younger man. His green eyes narrowed as they landed on the bandage wrapped around his friend’s head. He lifted his hand and touched it, frowning as the younger man brought his bandaged hand up to touch it as well. “W...what h...happened?” he asked weakly.
“Jest got banged up a bit, nuthin’ fer ya ta worry ‘bout,” Tanner assured his injured friend. He saw the green eyes fill with pain as Larabee grasped his bandaged hands in his own. “It’s really okay, Cowboy, Nathan fixed em up.”
Larabee’s eyes took on a stony look as he glared weakly at the sharpshooter, “y...you went b...back," he hissed angrily, “Dammit...s...stupid, V...Vin...c...could’ve,” his breathing grew more and more labored as he spoke to his friend. “b...been k...killed...Maguire...or...or c...cave in!”
“I told ya Maguire’s dead, Chris.”
Green, fever bright eyes widened hopefully. “Y...you f...found ...body?”
“Not ‘xac’ly.” Tanner couldn’t quite meet the pained eyes. “I tried...the whole cave’s buried. Ain’t no way he coulda got outta there. Ain’t no other way in ‘r out. We saw ‘im at the ‘ntrance jest before it caved in.
“R...really dead,” Larabee’s eyes were filled with trust as he looked into the blue eyes. He saw the truth in them and relaxed his tense body. “Vin, he was c...crazy. U...used a whip a...and a k...knife a...and b...burned me a...and d...didn’t work s...so u...used fists. He s...said I w...was d...destiny...n...needed me t...to s...scream. D...didn’t scream, Vin... c....couldn’t or h...he’d have w...won.”
“Calm down, Chris,” Jackson ordered as he knelt beside his patient. He watched the two men as the blond talked of his ordeal, but now he seemed to be panicking and was having difficulty getting air to enter his lungs. He watched as the blond head bobbed once and smiled. “You’re gonna be just fine, Chris. I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re gonna be in misery for some time to come, but as long as you do as I tell you you’ll be fightin’ to get outta bed in no time.”
Larabee saw the worry on each face in the room including Mary and JD who returned from outside. He wanted to tell them he was fine, but this was one time he wouldn’t lie. He looked from one face to another before coming to rest on the healer’s once more. “U...up n...now,” he said, hoping to convey to the others that he was indeed going to be alright. The sound of laughter from the man he leaned against struck a chord in his abused mind and he smiled as the others joined in the laughter. He let his eyes slide closed and listened to the sound of relieved laughter. He knew in his heart it would be a long time before he laughed as easily as his friends, but he didn’t doubt that it would happen. He felt his mind drifting towards sleep and barely heard Nathan speaking to him. He opened his eyes and looked into the healer’s eyes.
“Chris, we’re gonna get you back in the bed.”
“Okay,” Larabee answered tiredly.
“Buck, you and Josiah take his legs. Ezra, you and JD grab his shoulders. I’ll hold his waist,” Jackson ordered.
“I’ll help you, Nathan,” Mary told him as she came forward and knelt beside the injured man.
Jackson nodded gratefully, “You take his head, Mary. Let’s keep him as straight as possible. Are you ready, Chris?”
“N...not r...really,” the blond answered and tried not to tense up as his friends lifted him off the floor. He held his breath as he was lifted from Tanner’s grasp and carried the short distance to the bed. he breathed a sigh of relief as he was settled into the dry sheets and covered with a blanket. He felt a cup placed to his lips and drank the familiar tasting tea. He drifted towards sleep unaware of the makeshift tent being set up and the medicinal vapors he breathed in. The only thing that registered in his fevered mind was that he was safe and his friends would make sure he stayed that way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two days later Chris opened his eyes and looked around the small, but clean room. The heat he’d felt attacking his body every time he woke up no longer sapped his strength. He saw Mary Travis sitting in the chair by the window, her blonde hair framed in a golden halo of sunlight streaming in through the partially open blinds. He felt the familiar wheeze in his chest and waited for the coughing to begin anew. His breathing wasn’t as bad now and he realized a lot of it had to do with his being able to cough up the crud from his lungs. He kept silent as he watched the woman across the room. He remembered bits and pieces of the last few days, but nothing seemed real. The only constants during that time was the agonizing pain in his body and the constant care of his friends and the woman now seated in the room with him.
He licked his lips and realized how dry his mouth and tongue were. He didn’t want to disturb the newspaper woman, but he needed something to drink. He opened his mouth and was about to speak when he noticed the Texan standing in the doorway.
Tanner was surprised to see the twin green orbs gazing at him. The fever bright gaze that was present since they rescued the blond was gone. In its place was something Vin couldn’t quite place. It was a cross between sadness and pain, with a touch of fear hidden in them as well. He understood all too well where each of these emotions came from, especially the fear. He remembered the look on Maguire’s crazed face when they entered the cave. The man seemed to think they shouldn’t have been there, that they had no right interfering with his plans or his destiny. Vin eased his lanky frame away from the door and walked to the bed. He sat on the edge and smiled at his friend.
“How do you feel?” he asked. He heard Mary Travis turn from the window and knew she was watching them.
“Tired.”
“I bet ya are. How’s the pain?” he asked as Larabee swallowed with some difficulty.
“It’s not as bad as it was,” he answered as Nathan Jackson came into the room. “Hello, Nathan,” he muttered as the healer sat on the edge of the bed. He could see the exhaustion etched on the former slave’s face and knew those lines were just as prevalent on the other’s as well.
“Chris,” he smiled as he reached out and touched the pale forehead and cheeks. “Feels like the fever’s come down quite a bit.”
“Not so hot,” Larabee agreed.
“That’s good, Chris. Now all we gotta do is build your strength back up and help you heal.”
Larabee nodded and covered his mouth as he coughed. His chest still hurt, but it wasn’t the agonizing torment it once was. His ribs were now the worst part as he held his arms against them. He groaned as he sat up straighter and tried to put the worried faces at ease. “It’s okay. It d...doesn’t hurt as much as it did,” he told them.
“That’s good, Chris,” Jackson said as he turned to see Josiah enter the room with a cup in his hands. He took the cup and smiled at the ex-preacher before turning back to the pale man on the bed. “Drink this,” he ordered.
“Horse...”
“Piss, yes that’s what it is. Now don’t start arguing already. Lets get this into you.” He watched Larabee’s eyes widen and knew what he was about to say. “No!”
“What?” the blond asked, a small grin on his face. He smiled as JD, Ezra, and Buck entered the room.
“No, you’re not getting any whiskey so get that thought out of your mind right now.”
“I d...didn’t say I wanted whiskey,” the blond told him.
“You didn’t have too. I know that look and I know what it means. It means Chris Larabee is feeling better and it doesn’t matter what Nathan Jackson says.”
Larabee realized how many times those words would’ve been true. He lifted serious green eyes and met those of the man who worked so hard to save his life. Not just this time, but all the times over the last few years since they met that fateful day in the cemetery. He sent his trust through the gaze and spoke softly, using his eyes to encompass everyone in the room. “Not this time, Nathan. I thought that bastard was going to kill me. You won't get any arguments from me."
Jackson didn’t like the almost defeated quality in the gunslinger’s voice. He knew he needed to lighten the man’s mood and he turned to look at the others in the room. “Okay, you guys heard him. The next time I tell him to eat, drink, rest, or sleep he’ll do it without arguing.” He saw the smile on Larabee’s face and knew his patient understood what he was doing. “You do as I say, Chris, and won’t be long until you’re up and around. Now, I think it’s time you drink this and go back to sleep.”
"All I do is sleep," The voice growled weakly, but the eyes were soft and held a teasing light as he accepted the herbal tea and sipped it gratefully.
“I knew it was too good to be true,” Jackson returned the grin, glad to see just a touch of the mischievous smile on the gunslinger’s pale face. He watched the liquid disappear and the eyelids grow heavy. He reached out and took the cup from Larabee’s hands and signalled for the others to leave the room.
“I’ll stay with him, Nathan,” Tanner said.
“Alright, Vin, the rest of you out.”
Vin sat in the chair and watched the others file out of the room. He looked down at his healing hands and wondered if Maguire really was dead. In his heart he felt the man was truly out of their lives, but a small doubt niggled at the back of his mind.
“You’re not sure.”
The sharpshooter looked at the man on the bed and waited for his eyes to open before answering. “...purty sure, but...”
“Without seeing the body we’ll never know for sure,” he saw the shaggy head bob once and continued. “Vin, Maguire was crazy, but he believed in what he was doing. He really thought he could take my soul by t...torturing and finally killing me with his bare hands. That belief was strong in him right to the end. There’s only one thing stronger than his belief and that’s my belief in you, in the seven of us,” Larabee insisted. “I really believe he’s dead, but only because you told me what you saw,” he said as he looked at the tracker’s torn nails and scraped fingers and hands. “Them torn up hands tell me you tried long after anyone else would have kept at it." He paused and looked right through those deep blues, to Vin Tanner's soul. "I trust you, Tanner, anybody else, I'd have to see for myself.. He's dead and he w...won't be c...coming b...back," Larabee wheezed. "It's done...leave it buried with him."
Tanner knew the injured man was at the end of his energy. The broken words at the end of the long speech told him the man needed to stop talking, catch his breath and sleep. He gently patted the right shoulder, knowing the gesture would be taken for what it was, a sign of friendship.
It wasn’t long before Tanner heard the soft wheeze that signalled the injured man was sleeping. He sat back in the chair and realized Chris Larabee was putting all his faith in him, at least when it came to the serial killer’s death. He sighed as he realized how much the blond’s confidence in him meant. He smiled knowing no matter what happened he’d be there to help his friend heal both mentally and physically.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over the next week Chris Larabee regained some of his strength and his body began the slow process of healing. He stayed in the bed, propped up on pillows, and talked with whoever was in the room with him. Mary Travis insisted on staying with him as much as anyone else and Chris was grateful for her company. He asked her about Billy and was glad to hear he child would be returning to Four Corners as soon as school let out. More often than not he’d fall asleep in the middle of a conversation as his still healing body grew weary with the least amount of spent energy.
Chris knew the others were worried about him and he knew it was because he didn’t seem to be putting up much of a protest. He knew they were expecting him to argue about everything and normally he would have. Unfortunately his brush with death at the hands of the madman, the subsequent rescue and caring by his friends gave him a whole new outlook on life. He realized what he was feeling was self pity, yet he didn’t know how to stop it. Every time he closed his eyes to sleep he found himself back in the cave and at Maguire’s mercy. He closed his eyes as he remembered the look on Mary’s face when he screamed as she’d touched his arm. The dream at that time was particularly vivid and he struck out, barely missing hitting her, as all he saw was Robert Maguire. When he realized it was Mary he turned away and wouldn’t face her.
Vin and Buck noticed Larabee’s sudden fear of sleeping and they decided it was time to talk to the gunslinger. It was time to bring everything out in the open. After talking with Nathan they arranged for everyone, including Mary Travis to be in the bedroom when Chris Larabee woke from his sleep.
Chris felt Maguire’s breath in his ear as he whispered. “You’re my destiny, Chris Larabee. Are you prepared to give me your soul?”
“No! My soul is my own...B...bastard...won’t let you do t...this! Y...you’re dead...can’t hurt a...anyone anymore!”
“Oh, but I can, Chris. Why don’t I start with this man!”
“NO!” the blond shouted as he saw Vin Tanner pulled towards the cave entrance.
“No, not him. Okay, what about Mary Travis or maybe Buck Wilmington or the man you think of as the healer?”
Faces swam before his eyes, faster and faster until there was no way to distinguish who was who. Tanner, Travis, Wilmington, Jackson, Sanchez, Standish, and Dunne all flowed past in one unintelligible mass. “No!” Chris cried, his chest heaving as he fought to bring air into his lungs once more.
“First they die and then you. You will watch as I kill each one, especially the beautiful Mrs. Travis. I think she should be first.”
Chris watched as the scalpel rose high above Maguire’s head and plunged towards Mary’s exposed throat. “No, God damn you...”
“NO!”
Seven people gasped as they heard the bone-chilling cry from the man on the bed. Wilmington was the first to reach his friend. “Chris, come on, wake up, Pard, it’s just a dream.” He watched as the chest heaved and unfocused green eyes opened. “Look at me, Chris. That’s it come on,” he smiled as the eyes finally rested on him and he knew Larabee was seeing him and not something out of his nightmare. “Must’ve been some dream,” he said.
“It was,” the blond ran his hands through his hair and sighed heavily. He noted the others in the room and smiled thinly. “S...sorry,” he apologized and coughed weakly. The attacks were a lot less frequent and shorter in duration, but they still affected his broken ribs.
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, Brother,” Sanchez assured him.
“Mr. Larabee, if anyone should be apologizing it’s all of us for not realizing we had a maniacal killer in our midst. Mother would be appalled if she knew how easily I was taken in,” Standish was once more hiding behind his natural facade.
“Chris, Mary found a newspaper clipping about Maguire,” Tanner told him. “He’s killed before”
“I know,” Larabee informed them softly.
“You do?” Mary asked.
“He made sure I knew all about him,” Larabee wouldn’t meet their eyes, turning his head towards the window instead. “He killed his father.”
“He killed others as well,” Dunne piped in.”
The blond nodded, but kept his eyes on the window, “He showed me a whip. The one he used on me. Told me it was new because he didn’t want to use anything he’d used on anyone else on me. He said I really was his destiny and that once I screamed he’d have my s...soul,” the gunslinger’s voice caught on the last word. “He kept saying he’d know when the scream was real and that’s when I’d die,” he looked back at the group, unshed tears in his eyes. “I think I would’ve screamed before he killed me. I didn’t want to. I fought it, but he kept hitting me...” he stopped as he saw Mary Travis and knew he couldn’t go on with what he wanted to say.
Mary saw the look that clouded his face as he looked at her and realized she was the reason he stopped. She knew he needed to talk about this and he wouldn’t with her in the room. He was too much of a gentlemen for that. “Nathan,” she waited for the healer to look at her. “I’m gonna finish making dinner. You guys keep Chris company.”
“Thanks, Mary,” Jackson said, his smile letting her know he knew why she was really leaving the room. He looked back at the gunslinger and waited for him to go on.“
“J...just before you guys showed up he started using his fist. He told me it was the only way to get me to scream. I’ve been hurt before. Hell, I was beaten in the war when I was captured because I was the enemy and they thought they were right and I was wrong. The warden in Jericho prison had me beaten, but at least he had a reason. He did it for money. I’ve been shot in gunfights because someone wanted to prove they could take me down, but this bastard didn’t do it for any of those reasons. There really was no reason. He thought I was his destiny...”
“You weren’t, Chris,” Sanchez told him. “Robert Maguire’s only destiny lay with the devil and if I were a betting man I’d say he’s smelling his own flesh burn in hell.”
Larabee breathed in deep and looked at the older man. He could see the faith in the man’s face and the belief in the words he just used. Those words spoken by a man who questioned his own faith held such force behind them that Chris felt the darkness begin to lift. The tight band around his heart began to lift as he looked from one face to another. With the injuries still fairly fresh on his body, and the memories still causing nightmares when he slept, he knew beyond a doubt that these men were his destiny. One that came together not because of someone forcing the issue, but by choice. A choice they’d all been given and one they’d embraced freely.
“Maguire was wrong.”
“About what, Chris?” Tanner asked softly, seeing a new light in his friend’s eyes.
“Destiny and what it means. He wanted to use force, but that wasn’t the way. Destiny is something we recognize as given freely. The day the shot hit the whiskey bottle in my hand at the saloon was the first step to meeting my destiny. No devils involved, no force, no pain. Just six men I was destined to meet. My life changed on that dusty street in Four Corners because Vin Tanner, Nathan Jackson, Ezra Standish, Buck Wilmington, Josiah Sanchez, and JD Dunne happened to be drawn to a town filled with the bad element. Something drew us all there and I think it really was destiny. Our destiny.”
“That’s a very profound bit of wisdom, Brother. I could never have said it better myself,” Sanchez grinned from ear to ear as he saw the life come back in Chris Larabee’s eyes.
Silence fell over the group of men as they realized the impact of Larabee’s words. It really was destiny that brought them all together and helped form the unlikely friendship. No matter what happened in the coming years that bond of friendship would be there. Through hell or high water each man vowed to be a part of the Magnificent Seven as they were now known as.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week later a wagon pulled into Four Corners as the sun peeked over the horizon, bathing the town and the eight people on the street in a fresh new light. Chris’s recovery was well on the way now and the healer knew it was only a matter of time before the gunslinger would start to protest his restrictions. He knew he was lucky the man didn’t argue about riding in the wagon. Nathan suspected part of it had to do with Mary Travis. The woman insisted she was tired and needed to sit in the wagon. The blankets and pillows made for a comfortable journey and to the healer’s relief, Chris slept most of the time.
Chris woke just outside of town, his instincts kicking in and telling him he was home. He knew, now that Four Corners really was his home and he smiled at the woman seated next to him. He pulled himself up in the wagon so he was leaning against the sideboards.
“Good morning, Chris.”
“Morning, Mary,” he smiled and stifled a yawn.
“How do you feel?” the woman asked.
"Good," he breathed deeply, letting the sun bask his handsome features, "I'm home, Mary..."
Mary smiled at the sound of his voice. Each day he continued to regain his strength and she suspected it would go even faster now that they were back in Four Corners. She smiled at the look on his face as the wagon came to a halt in front of Nathan’s clinic. She saw the determination and knew Chris Larabee was back. ‘Poor, Nathan,’ she thought as the healer dismounted and walked towards them.
“Okay, Chris, let’s get you up to the clinic.”
“Hell, Nathan, I don’t need the clinic. I‘ll sleep better in my own bed.”
“I knew it was too good to last. What happened to I’ll do anything you say, Nathan?”
“I’ll let Inez know we’re back and see about getting some breakfast made,” the blonde woman told them.
Larabee smiled as Mary Travis climbed out of the wagon, then turned back to the healer. “Damn, Nathan, you know me...”
“I know you. I know Vin, I know...”
“What the hell did I do?” Tanner asked as he stepped up to the wagon.
“You say you’ll do everything I tell you and the minute you’re feeling a little better you forget those words,” Jackson snapped.
“Well, Brother, you might as well grin and bare it. We’re all the same. None of us like to be laid up. We like to move around, tend our own needs and make our own mistakes,” Sanchez laughed as he swatted the healer on the back.
“Alright, Chris, you can go to your own room...”
“Thanks, Nathan,” Larabee’s cocky grin was back.
“Let me finish,” Jackson ordered. “You can go to your room after I check you over. I want to make sure everything’s okay and nothing’s opened up.”
“I guess that’s okay,” Larabee smiled as he slid to the edge of the wagon. He was still sore, but he was healing and he was bull-headed to do things on his own.
“Well, Gentlemen, even though this promises to be another glorious morning I need to partake of the soft mattress on my bed. Mr. Larabee, it’s good to have you back,” Standish turned and walked away.
“Well, Stud, me and JD best see what’s been happening at the jail” Wilmington said as he touched Larabee’s shoulder.
“I’ll see you later, Chris,” JD called as Buck pulled him towards the jail.
“I’m going to check on the church,” Sanchez told them as he walked away.
"I'll help ya up to Nathan's, Chris." Tanner said as he helped the gunslinger stand on shaky legs.
Jackson and Tanner flanked the gunslinger as he made his way up the stairs. Once he reached the landing he turned and looked out over the sleepy town. The sunlight slowly made its way down the street, driving back the shadows and showing the town in a new light. ‘This really is my destiny,’ he thought. He closed his eyes and realized how true those words were. His friends, the people and this town were part of him now and would forever be a part of his life. He sighed and followed Nathan Jackson into the clinic knowing he was home for good.
~~~~~~~~~
She looked at the small brown paper bound package. The only address on it said Four Corners. She didn’t know anyone in Four Corners, yet the package was addressed to her. She tore at the paper until the contents sat before her. A small black, leather bound journal sat before it. It was old and the edges were beginning to fray. She opened it up and read the name inscribed on the first page. She looked towards the tiny room that held a small boy. The child belonged to the man who kept the journal. He’d sent it to her many times over the years, usually just after he found his next victim. She knew he’d be coming to collect it as soon as he was finished with the newest one. She opened the last page of writing to see who the new man would be. She knew he would have blond hair, green eyes and would be about six feet tall. She read the name and smiled. “Maybe Chris Larabee will be the one and you’ll finally come home to me and Bobby for good,” she said as she lay down on her bed and held the journal close to her chest. A soft sob slipped from her as she watched the sky outside the window darken. In her heart she knew Robert Maguire would not return from this trip. The father of her son would never see him grow up, but somehow she would teach him about destiny and how important it was to find yours and make it come true. She would read to him from the journal, just as she read from the tattered story book she owned. She stood up and walked into the room where her three year old slept, she stroked the bruise on his cheek and spoke softly. “You will succeed where your father failed,” she vowed as she lay down beside him.
THE END
PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / PART 5
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