Blind Man's Bluff
By: Winnie
Mary sat next to the bed and tried not to show the worry she felt. Jackson and Tanner sat at the small table. a plate of food, virtually untouched, before each man. She knew they were worried that Chris didn't seem to be waking up, as she watched his face for any sign that he was.
Chris lay on the bed, not ready to face the empty darkness he knew would be there if he opened his eyes. His throat was dry and he needed a drink, but couldn't find the moisture to voice his words. A small moan slipped past his lips before he had a chance to stop it.
"Chris," Mary smiled as she heard the soft sound from the injured man. "Nathan, I think he's waking up."
Jackson and Tanner were at the side of the bed before the words left her mouth. Both men had heard the scratchy sound in spite of how low it was. Mary stood up to give the healer room to examine his patient.
"Hey, Chris, it's 'bout time ya woke up," the healer said as Larabee's eyes moved under the closed lids.
Chris tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. A soft cough filtered past his lips and he felt someone ease his head up. He heard a familiar voice, but couldn't quite put a name to it, yet he knew the person was trying to help.
"Here, Chris, drink this," Jackson ordered softly. He kept his voice low, knowing Larabee's head would be pounding as a result of the head trauma. He smiled as Larabee drank the water without question. "Take it slow, Chris," he ordered as he removed the glass.
"Na...than."
"Yeah, it's me. Vin and Mary are here too."
Chris nodded, but groaned as the slight movement set his stomach churning once more. The gunslinger knew he needed to open his eyes, but wasn't sure he could face what it might reveal. He took a deep breath and slowly opened them.
"Welcome back, Cowboy," Vin said as he saw the eyes open.
"Oh, Chris," Mary sighed in relief as she looked at the injured man.
Jackson was close enough to once more see the fear in Larabee's eyes. "Chris, what's wrong?"
Larabee lifted his right hand and rubbed at his eyes. He blinked rapidly, but there was no change. At first he tried to convince himself it was night, but that illusion was quickly shattered as he realized Nathan would have the lamp going in order to examine him. He closed his eyes and waited for his stomach to stop churning.
"Chris?"
Jackson's voice was filled with worry and Chris knew he was waiting for him to say something. "C...can't see, Nate," he whispered softly.
"Open your eyes, Chris," Jackson ordered, ignoring the soft cry from Mary Travis. He heard the door open, but didn't turn to see who it was.
Chris forced his eyes open once more and felt it tug on the wound on his forehead. He groaned softly as pain lanced through his skull. He felt Nathan examine the wound and winced as the fingers touched the swollen area.
"Easy, Chris, just lie still for a minute." The healer finished checking the wound and Larabee's eyes and sat back in his chair.
"Nathan?" Wilmington asked. Mary's worried expression and moisture laden eyes told him something was wrong.
"B...uck?"
"Yeah, I'm here, pard," the ladies' man answered as he hurried to the bed. He was glad to see his friend awake, but his instincts told him something was definitely wrong. "How are ya feelin'?"
"Can't see, Buck," Larabee winced as his own voice set off an explosion of pain once more. He turned on his right side and lost the small amount of water he'd drank. He felt Jackson's hands ease him back to the bed and closed his eyes.
"Chris, I need ya to drink a little more water," the healer said, as he poured a small amount of laudanum into the glass. He mixed the contents and lifted Larabee's head slightly.
Chris was grateful for the liquid in spite of the taste of laudanum that went along with it. His stomach seemed to accept the offering and he felt the glass removed from his mouth as his head was eased back on the pillows. Any movement set off the pain, but he tried not to show his discomfort. Instinct told him Vin Tanner was in the clinic in spite of the fact he hadn't said anything. He felt the laudanum, pain, and his own body's weakness as he drifted back to sleep.
"Nathan, will he be all right?" Buck asked.
"As long as we keep getting him to drink and he takes it easy..."
"But what about his eyes?" Mary asked.
"I don't know. It could be the swelling causing it or it could be he damaged something inside his head. If it is the swelling then his sight could return as soon as it goes down."
"If it's not?" Tanner asked.
"Ain't much I can do. Maybe one of them doctors at the hospitals back east could help." Jackson was frustrated at what he thought was a lack of ability on his part, yet he knew the others had confidence in him.
"Nathan?"
"I just don't know, Mary," he answered her unspoken question.
"What can we do ta help?" Tanner asked.
"Best thing for him is to rest and give himself time to heal. We need to make sure he drinks and maybe get some broth into him. I don't think he can handle anything solid in his stomach right now. He's probably gonna suffer severe headaches for a while and that alone can make him sick to his stomach. That'll bring even more problems if we can't stop him from..." he stopped as he looked at the pale newspaperwoman. "I'm sorry, Mary," he said.
"It's okay, Nathan. I need to hear this as well."
"You need to go get some sleep and spend some time with that boy of yours," Buck said as he saw the dark circles surrounding the woman's eyes.
"I'm fine, Buck," she said as she felt his hand on her arm.
"No, you're not, Mary. You haven't had much sleep since Chris was shot and you got a small boy to look after. Chris wouldn't want you neglecting either Billy or your health because of him." He knew he'd said the right words as Mary nodded once and went to the bed.
She placed her hand on Chris's shoulder and whispered for his ears only. "You rest, Chris, I'll be back in the morning."
"Vin, you need to get some sleep as well. JD and Ezra got patrol tonight so it might be a good idea for you to get some sleep as well," Wilmington explained.
"Buck's right, Vin. Ya won't be doin' anyone any good if ya pass out." Jackson ushered him out of the clinic with orders not to return until he had a full night's sleep. Nathan turned to watch the ladies' man settle into the chair beside the bed. He walked to the shelf, pulled out one of the books on medicine, walked to the table and opened it to the section on head injuries.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The next two days passed with no change. Chris would wake for a few minutes at a time and drink whatever they gave him.
The pain and nausea were a constant presence and Chris hated the way he felt. He heard someone moving around the clinic and pushed himself up on the bed.
"Chris..."
"Nathan, I'm tired of lying down," Larabee hissed as he slid his legs over the side of the bed. He felt Jackson's steadying hand on his shoulder and smiled in spite of the darkness surrounding him.
"How's your head," Jackson asked as he sat beside the injured man.
"Still there, I think," Larabee answered.
"Feel like eating something?"
"Not really. Just water..."
"Chris, ya gotta start eating..."
"There's no point right now, Nate."
"Do you still feel sick to your stomach?" the healer asked worriedly. He filled up a glass of water and reached for Larabee's hand, making sure his friend had a tight grip on it before he released his hold.
"Yeah, lucky if this stays where I put it." He sipped at the water as Jackson watched him.
"That's because of the concussion, Chris. It will get better."
"What about my..."
Chris didn't finish the question, but Jackson knew what he wanted to hear. "I don't know, Chris. I wish I did, but I'm not..."
"Nathan, you're as good a doctor as any of the ones back east. You may not have a paper on the wall, but you have all the people in this town as proof of that. Is there anyone you haven't used your skills on?"
Jackson laughed at how easily Chris was able to turn things around and make him feel better about the things he did. "Thanks, Chris." He reached for the cup as Larabee groaned softly. "Ya need to lie down," he warned, and was surprised when the gunslinger sank back to the bed without protest.
Chris closed his eyes and fought back the self-pity he felt coming over him. He wondered why he even bothered to open his eyes, as all he saw was complete and utter darkness. 'A blind gunslinger,' he thought ironically as he drifted towards sleep. He felt Nathan's hand on the bandage covering his head and knew his friend was making sure it was healing properly.
Nathan knew the swelling had gone down, but there was still some present and the bruising had spread to encompass part of his eye and cheek as well. Vivid purple and blue was surrounded by a lighter shade of yellow and red as the trauma began to heal. He knew Chris wasn't really sleeping, but knowing what a private man Larabee was, he left him to his thoughts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Nathan."
Jackson looked up as Vin entered the clinic. He knew the younger man had seen Larabee sitting on the landing and wondered why the sharpshooter hadn't stopped to speak with him. "What's wrong, Vin?" he asked as he closed the medical journal.
"I's jest wonderin' how Chris is doin'?"
"Still the same," Jackson told him. "He's unable to keep anything down, except water, and even that don't stay inside him for long. His headaches are a little easier, but they're still bad enough to make him pass out if he tries to move around. I had to convince him to sit on the landing for a while."
"Yeah, Chris probably feels like everyone's watching him. Ezra's talking to him now."
"Hope he don't use none of them five dollar words of his. Chris already has one headache."
Tanner knew the healer was trying to ease his mind by shedding a little humor on the situation. "Nathan, Chris don't like being the center of attention..."
"I know that, Vin, but..."
"He wants to go out to his place." Vin could see the healer getting ready to protest, but he held up his hands to stop him. "Ya said he needs ta get some rest and quiet..."
"Yeah, he does, but he can't be left alone the way he is."
"He won't be alone. I'm gonna stay with 'im. Buck and the others are willin' ta take my patrol for me."
"I need ta take those stitches out in a couple of days..."
"I can bring him back to town or you can come out to his place."
"What if something happens?"
"We'll hightail it back here. Nathan, we both know Chris is a little down," Tanner said as he remembered how depressed Chris seemed to be getting. The people of the town were continuously dropping by, asking how he was doing, and he would pretend to be asleep. He didn't want to acknowledge their well wishes or address their worries.
"Vin, I just don't know."
"Why don't you ask him what he wants to do?" Tanner pressed.
"You know damn well what his answer will be, Vin." Jackson shook his head as he saw the smile on the sharpshooter's face. "Oh, hell, alright, let's go tell him, but it won't be today. You can take him out there tomorrow morning after I've got some supplies ready for you."
"Thanks, Nathan."
"Thank me after I see that this does Chris some good."
"So, Mr. Larabee, that's the news of the town," Standish said as he watched the gunslinger. The man was still pale, making the bruises that marred his face more prominent. "Is there anything I can get for you?"
"No, thanks, Ez, I'm fine," Larabee told him as he looked at the now familiar darkness.
"Hey, Ezra."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Jackson. I was just bringing Mr. Larabee the..."
"Gossip," Tanner finished.
"Mr. Tanner, I assure you I do not spread gossip."
"Don't matter none what ya call it, Ez, yer still tellin' stories," Tanner said.
"You two stop bickering before ya give Chris a headache," Jackson told them.
"Too late," Larabee winced as he rubbed his forehead.
"Ya been out in the sun too long, Chris. Come on and we'll get ya back to bed."
"I'm okay, Nathan."
"Chris, if ya want ta go out to your place tomorrow, then ya'd better start listening to what I say."
Larabee's head came up at the mention of getting out of town. His sightless eyes came up to meet those of the healer and his voice was laced with hope. "You mean it, Nathan?"
"Yeah, it'll probably be a whole lot quieter out at your place and Vin is gonna go with ya. Now why don't you come back inside and lie down for a while?"
"Okay," Larabee winced as his headache became more pronounced. He felt a steadying hand on his arm and was soon sitting on the side of the bed.
"Here, Chris, take this."
"What is it, Nathan?"
"Laudanum, it'll help ya rest." Jackson saw the grimace on Larabee's face as he drank it. "Now lie back and try to sleep."
Ezra and Vin watched as the gunslinger eased back no the bed and closed his eyes. It didn't take long for Larabee' to drift off to sleep and the three men left him alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Day and night had little meaning for Chris. He'd wake up to the same cloying darkness whether asleep or awake. He knew he was feeling sorry for himself, but couldn't stop. Mary and Billy had been in to see him earlier and he was frustrated at his inability to see them. He was finally alone in the clinic, but sensed Jackson or one of the others was close by. Larabee sat up and slung his legs over the side of the bed. The pain was a little more manageable right now, but he knew the longer he stayed up, the worse the pain would be. He wanted something to drink and used his hands to feel around, his frustration growing worse as he reached for the table. He touched the pitcher of water and the glass sitting next to it, and felt around until he found the handle and picked up both it and the glass. Chris took a deep breath and brought the pitcher over the lip of the glass. He tilted the pitcher until he heard the water splash into the glass.
"Dammit!" he swore as the water spilled over the edge and dropped onto his legs. He went to place the pitcher back on the table and swore as it crashed to the floor, water spraying across his bare legs and over the floor. His frustration eased as he threw the glass across the room.
"Feel better?"
"Hell, no, Josiah! Shit!" Larabee swore as pain lanced his skull and he swayed. He felt strong hands grab him and ease him back on the bed.
"It'll get easier, Chris."
"Will it, Josiah? How can you be sure? How long's it been now? A week? Two weeks? Hell, I can't tell anymore. Day and night don't mean nothing to a blind man!"
"Chris, feeling sorry for yourself isn't gonna help."
Larabee clenched his eyes tight in order to keep his weakness from showing. He knew Sanchez was right, but it didn't make it any easier. "How long's it been, Josiah?" he muttered.
"Eight days since you were shot."
"Eight days," Larabee whispered unbelievingly. "Eight days since the world went black."
"Don't give up, Brother," Sanchez said as he retrieved more water from the bucket on Jackson's table. He carefully stepped over the shards of glass and shook his head as JD stepped through the door, smiling gratefully as the young easterner left them alone. He took a new glass and poured the water into it before returning to the bed. Chris sat with his head in his hands and Josiah saw slump of his shoulders. For him, Chris Larabee was a man who oozed confidence, but to look at the gunslinger now he saw only dejection. He tapped the glass against Larabee's fingers and said softly. "Here, Chris."
Larabee wrapped his fingers around the glass and drank the cool water. "Thanks, Josiah," he said as he passed the glass back.
"You're welcome, Chris," the ex-preacher walked back to the table and placed the glass on top of it.
"Josiah?"
"Yes."
"Is it dark outside?"
"It's the middle of the night, Chris," Sanchez answered.
"Sorry, Josiah, didn't mean to wake you up."
"You didn't, Chris. I was..."
"Watching me?" Larabee asked softly. "Guess I do need..."
"It's only for a little while, Chris. Things will get better."
"Sure, Josiah. Look, my head's hurting. Why don't you get some sleep. That's about all I'm gonna do anyway," the gunslinger said as he lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. He heard Sanchez leave and took a deep breath. He'd been alone before, but never had he been so alone in a group of people. He slowly drifted to sleep, glad that by the next night he would be at his cabin, where prying eyes wouldn't be watching him constantly.
Sanchez gave him half an hour to fall asleep before he stepped back inside and cleaned up the glass and the water. He listened to the soft snores from the injured man and silently prayed that Chris Larabee would get his sight back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Vin, ya make sure ya bring 'im back if there's any problems."
"I will, Nate," Tanner said as he secured the saddle to Diablo.
"There's fresh bandages in there and laudanum if he needs it. Make sure he doesn't overdo things and try to get him eating. He's not gonna get any better if he ain't keepin' anythin' down."
"Here come Buck and Josiah," Tanner said as he watched the two men stand on either side of Larabee as they walked towards them. He smiled as he realized the two men were not actually supporting Chris. They were walking close enough that the gunslinger actually touched up against them once in a while. He knew this was being done on purpose so that Chris could feel some control over what was happening around him.
Nathan nodded to Sanchez and Wilmington and moved to check his patient one last time. He checked the sightless eyes, felt the pale forehead and finally stepped away from the protesting man. "Chris, you tell Vin if ya have any problems."
"I will, Nathan," Larabee said as the healer led him to Diablo. He reached for the reins and swung his leg up over the saddle. He winced as the quick movement sent daggers of pain through his skull.
The flash of pain didn't go unnoticed by the three men standing around him, but they knew this was what the gunslinger needed. The town was not the place for Larabee to recuperate. It had been agreed that Vin would be the best to try and teach Larabee how to get around without his eyes.
"You ready, Vin?" Larabee asked softly, as if anything louder would cause his head to explode.
Tanner swung into his saddle and smiled at the three men watching them. He nodded his head in an effort to let them know everything would be all right as he turned his attention to his companion. "All right, Cowboy, let's get you home."
"Thanks, Vin," Larabee said gratefully as he rode beside the tracker.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vin watched his companion as they rode side by side. He was keeping them to a slow pace, knowing Larabee's head had to be bothering him. Twice they stopped to rest, but it didn't help and he realized it would be better to get to the cabin and let the injured man rest in the familiar surroundings. He chanced a glance at his friend and saw him listing to the right.
"Chris?"
Larabee hissed and sat up straight in the saddle. "Sorry, Vin."
"Ain't nothin' ta be sorry 'bout, Pard. We're almost home," he assured the gunslinger.
"O...kay," the blond muttered tiredly. He knew they were closing in on his place, but wasn't sure how much longer he could stay in the saddle. The sun was hot on his face as they rode and he wondered if he'd ever see the golden rays again. He shook off the self-pity, knowing it was something he didn't want the younger man to see. He didn't know how long they travelled, but smiled as Diablo seemed to recognize his home. "We're here," he said as he patted the horse's neck.
Vin saw some of the pain leave the blond's face as they rode into the yard. He knew they'd made the right decision to get Larabee out of town as he drew Unalii to a halt in front of the cabin. He reached for Diablo's reins and eased them from Larabee's hands. He draped the reins over the hitching rail and moved to help the gunslinger from the saddle, not at all surprised to find the black clad man already on the ground.
Chris took a deep breath of the air and sighed heavily. He knew the area and felt at home here. He patted Diablo's rump and moved towards the door of the cabin. He used his hands to find his way, but tripped on the step leading into the cabin.
Vin saw Chris stumble and moved to help, but stopped when the gunslinger righted himself and moved to open the door. The sharpshooter knew the blond needed a few minutes alone and he untacked the two horses before releasing them into the corral. He would finish caring for them once he'd taken care of Larabee. He hurried into the cabin and instantly spotted the injured man sprawled across the single cot in the far corner. The tracker moved to check on his friend and was glad to see he was sleeping. Tanner pulled off the boots and covered the him with a thin blanket before going outside to tend Diablo and Unalii.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Buck, JD, and Ezra shared the table at the back of the saloon. It was quiet in the town, and except for them, the only two men in the saloon were the newcomers. Frank and Jesse were once more at the bar.
Buck could hear Frank flirting with Inez and smiled as the young woman handled him easily. He'd been tempted to do something about it earlier, but Inez simply smiled and shook her head. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and tipped it to his mouth as Frank's voice reached his ears.
"Ah, come on, Senorita, just one little kiss."
"Oh, Senor, I do not think you will like my kisses," Inez told him.
"Sure I will. A little spitfire like you..."
Buck was on his feet but the gambler's hand on his arm stopped him. The conman pointed to the Mexican woman and smiled. "Watch," he said simply.
"Close your eyes, Senor," Inez whispered.
"Hear that, Jesse, the lil' Senorita is gonna give me a kiss," Frank exclaimed excitedly. He closed his eyes and leaned in over the bar.
Jesse watched, but didn't seem to understand what was happening. His eyes were open, but unfocused as he lifted the drink to his mouth.
"Are you ready, Senor?" Inez asked.
Frank snickered and bounced on his feet as he waited expectantly.
"Here it comes, Senor, now keep your eyes closed."
"They're closed." Again the man snickered as he waited for the touch of soft lips.
"Oh, Lord," Wilmington suppressed a laugh as he watched Inez lift the pitcher of water.
"Here it comes," Inez smiled as she lifted he water up over the man's head. She tipped the it over Frank's head, smiling innocently as he sputtered and swiped at his face with his hands.
"Now why'd ya go an' do that fer?" Frank sputtered as he reached across to grab Inez' hand.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Wilmington said from behind the man.
"But she...Look what she...did to me."
"You got what you deserve," Dunne exclaimed.
"I'm all wet!"
"In more ways than one," Standish said as he joined Dunne and Wilmington at the bar.
"You're gonna pay, Senorita," Frank tried to move past the three men but a wall of muscle stood in front of him.
"Think maybe you two best go to yer room and sleep it off," the ladies' man spat.
"I ain't goin' nowhere 'til I get what she..."
"Fr...ank..."
Frank looked towards his companion and frowned as he saw the man waver and sink towards the floor. "Jesse!" he said as he reached for his friend.
"What's wrong?" Dunne asked.
"He's broke!"
"Pardon me?" Standish frowned as they eased the man to the floor. The man's hat tipped off his head to reveal a dirty bandage wrapped around it. "Perhaps we would be well advised to bring him to Mr. Jackson's clinic?"
"He needs a doctor," Frank said as they lifted the injured man up and walked towards the clinic.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nathan finished examining the wound on the young man's head and frowned as he turned to the second. "You say you don't know how he got shot?"
"I didn't see it. I found him when he's already broke. He's gonna be all right though ain't he mister? He's my...my brother and I cain't let nuthin' happen ta him."
"Well, the wound was infected, but I cleaned it out and as long as he rest he should be okay. He's probably been having headaches, but that should ease some soon." Jackson explained. "Now why don't you go put on some dry clothes and get some rest. Your brother's not goin' anywhere."
"I gotta stay with 'im."
"You can come back as soon as you change," Jackson assured the man. He could see the man wasn't very smart, but did care for his brother. "He'll be here when you get back, Frank."
"Promise!"
"Yeah, promise," Jackson assured the simple minded man. He watched as he slowly walked out the door. There was something strange about the two men, but the healer couldn't place it. He turned back to the patient and wondered how Chris and Vin were doing, vowing to find out for himself when he rode out there in the morning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Draw!' the word was barely audible, but Chris heard it as if it was screamed at him. He pulled his gun from its holster and realized he was too late. His eyes opened wide as the bullet left the barrel of Peters' gun. As with all dreams, things became distorted and he could track the bullet with his eyes as it made a slow, almost comical journey from the gun. 'Just move out of the way, Cowboy!' Tanner's laughing face was beside him, but he didn't understand what was being said. His eyes were glued to the incoming death in the form of a bullet. Inch by inch the bullet advanced on him, but he was frozen in place, unable to move away from its path. Laughter surrounded him as he struggled to move. Peters' face turned into a macabre skeleton as the bullet completed its journey. The impact was worse than he remembered and Chris cried out as fireworks exploded in his skull. He bolted upright on the cot and hissed in pain.
Vin moved to the injured man's side and touched his arm. "Ya all right, Chris?"
"Yeah, just fine," Larabee answered sarcastically. "Can't see a damn thing except in my dreams and sometimes I wish I was blind in them too!"
"Must've been some nightmare."
"It was," the gunslinger said softly and was silent for a few minutes. "I keep seeing the damn bullet. I know that's not possible, but in the dreams I can actually see it coming towards me. The sun glints off it as I watch and I can't move." He left out the part about seeing Vin and the others and their laughter. "Shit, Vin!" he hissed as he stood up and headed towards the door. He knew he was weak, yet there was nothing he could do about it. Even the thought of food jarred his already rebellious stomach. He sank into the chair, felt a soft breeze on his face, and waited for the tremors to stop. Chris knew the sharpshooter was watching him, but didn't acknowledge him.
Vin made sure the gunslinger was staying put, before he turned to the stove. Jackson's orders were to see that he ate and Vin was going to do his best to see that he did. He walked back to the table and placed the two plates on opposite ends. He walked outside and saw Larabee's eyes were closed once more.
"Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"Supper's ready."
"Not hungry right now, Vin."
"Ya gotta eat, Pard."
Larabee smiled as he remembered those same words being spoken by another friend, one who'd recently returned to his life. "You sound like Baker."
"Campbell?"
"Yeah, he said the same thing to me at West Point."
"What happened?"
"Long story. You sure you want to hear it?"
"Ain't got nuthin' better ta do." He smiled and felt guilty when he realized his friend couldn't see it.
Larabee leaned the chair back against the wall and placed his boots on the railing.
Vin smiled as he watched the man do something he'd been doing since they'd first met. Chris Larabee may be blind, but he was far from helpless.
"It happened six months after I entered West Point. Baker and me were already friends by then, which was something of a surprise to everyone. He was a year ahead of me, but you wouldn't have known it. He was engaged to a girl back home before entering West Point and he received a letter from her every couple of weeks. He'd read that letter over and over until a new one arrived. I remember thinking how much I envied him, least until the last one arrived..."
