Blind Man's Bluff
By: Winnie
West Point
16-year-old Chris Larabee patrolled his area with diligence and extreme attention to detail. Some of his friends told him he was taking things too seriously, but Chris had always been an overachiever. He smiled as he thought of Baker Campbell. The man was a year ahead of him, yet the two had become fast friends when five men took an instant disliking to Chris. The cadets were jealous that Chris' commanding officer had taken the young man under his wing and they cornered him one night outside the barracks. Chris stood his ground and the leader, a blond with savage eyes and a chip on his shoulder, had two of them hold him while he used his fists to beat Larabee. Campbell had patrol duty that night and heard the commotion. He'd quickly intervened and fought by Larabee's side. The three were placed under arrest and subsequently left the service, although it was more like a dishonourable discharge. Larabee never saw them again, but what started as a night filled with enemies and pain had ended in newfound friendship.
Chris continued his patrol of the area, in spite of the fact that he had less than half an hour for his replacement to show up. A sound off to his right caused him to turn and he readied his rifle just in case. A familiar form came into view and Chris smiled.
"Hey, Baker," he called and was surprised when his friend continued to walk away from him. He saw something white drop on the ground as Campbell hurried down the trail. He walked over and picked up the wrinkled white paper. "Baker, you dropped this!" he called, but received no answer. He caught sight of a flash of light and realized Campbell was carrying a bottle. Briefly he wondered where it came from, but the man disappeared around the bend in the road.
Chris looked at the paper and his eyes fell on the name at the bottom of the paper. "Juliet Wilson," he mumbled aloud. Something about Campbell's behavior told him the letter was bad news. "Ah, Hell," he thought and read the fancy lettering.
My dearest, Baker,
It has been so long since you held me in your arms and I find I can no longer wait for your touch. There was a time when you were the center of my world, but alas time and distance have left me cold. I have met someone else and we are to be married this Sunday. I did not mean for it to happen like this and I do apologize. Please forgive me, Baker and wish me luck. I am sure you will meet someone and eventually fall in love. Take care and stay safe
Juliet Wilson
Chris looked at the paper and swore again as he realized what he had in his hands was a Dear John letter. He'd heard of them before and had seen how devastating those words could be, especially when the couple was separated by distance.
"Hey, Chris."
Chris turned as his replacement walked into his line of sight. They exchanged pleasantries and Chris hurried back to the barracks. Larabee knew what he was about to do could cause problems, but a friend needed help, a friend he owed and wasn't about to let down. The trail Campbell had disappeared on led to a small town called Nelson's Corner, and if he hurried he could be there in an hour or so. The young cadet changed quickly and slipped out of the barracks.
Chris ran down the trail, his long legs cutting the distance between him and the town. His well-toned body made it an easy run for and the bright moon lit the way as he made his way down the trail. His eyes caught movement in a clearing on the right and he pulled to a stop. Chris saw Campbell sitting in the darkness, gun in hand and a bottle tipped up to his head. Baker seemed oblivious to Larabee's presence and Chris knew he had to be careful. The blond had no idea how much liquor his friend had already consumed, but he couldn't take the chance of startling him. He stood for a few minutes, working out the best way to approach his friend. His mind was made up for him as Campbell raised the gun instead of the bottle. The young man raced forward and his hand gripped the gun, bringing it down and away from Campbell's body.
"No!" the older man hissed drunkenly. "Leave me be!"
Campbell's words were slurred, but the man's larger bulk put Chris at a disadvantage. They struggled for leverage and Chris soon found himself on his back with Campbell's weight baring down on him. He knew in Campbell's drunken state he didn't know who Chris was and he tried to speak as the gun began to descend towards his chest.
"Ba...ker....It's Ch...ris," the young cadet tried to form the words, but all his strength went into deflecting the weapon. Inch by inch the gun came down, the moon glinting off its barrel as it swung closer. He felt Campbell's strength as the trigger began to ease back on the trigger. "BAKER!" he hissed and saw the wide eyes widen as the hammer clicked and an incredible wave of pain hit his arm. He felt the weight leave his body and rolled onto his side. His right hand came up to cover the wound on his left shoulder. The biting pain sent waves of fire through his arm and into his shoulder.
Baker looked at the cadet lying on the ground. Larabee's final call had gotten through his drunken rage and he'd been able to deflect the gun at the last instant, but he knew it had not been enough. He saw Larabee turn on his side and heard the soft grunt of pain. Fear shone in his eyes as he realized he'd almost killed his best friend. He knelt beside the injured man and eased him onto his back. "Jesus, Chris, I'm sorry," he muttered as he peeled Larabee's fingers from the wound. "Shit! Dammit, Larabee, why didn't you just stay at the barracks?"
"Saw the l...letter...knew....she hurt you," Chris hissed as he sat up, his bloodied fingers once more wrapping around his arm.
"She l....left...you read it?" he asked, his eyes filled with sadness and pain.
"Yeah, didn't mean to, but...knew you were in trouble. Couldn't let you throw it all away because of her. She's not worth it."
"You shouldn't have come after me."
"No choice. You needed someone and I'm supposed to be your friend."
"I could've killed you."
"You didn't."
"How bad?"
"I think it just creased my shoulder."
"Let me see," Campbell ordered as he again eased Larabee's fingers from the wound. He studied the still bleeding gouge and tore a strip from his shirt. "It's not too bad. Bleeding a lot though."
Larabee hissed as Campbell applied pressure to the wound. "Shit!"
"First time?"
"What?"
"Being shot?"
"Yeah, hurts like a son of a bitch."
"I bet. Let me tie this off and we'll get back to the barracks. Doc Caleb can..."
"No...No doctor..."
"Chris, you need to see the doctor."
"No, can't. They'd have to report it."
"I'm gonna turn myself in anyway."
"No, Baker, you do that and she'll have won. That letter was mean and she meant to hurt you. I'm not gonna let you throw it all away because of a Dear John letter."
"Chris, I shot you..."
"An accident."
"Chris..."
"Baker, we can keep the wound clean and covered. It's not deep and doesn't need stitches. Help me back to the barracks and we'll clean it up and no one will ever know, but you need to promise me something."
Campbell took a deep breath as he studied the serious face. "Anything."
"If you start feeling like you did tonight you come get me and we'll talk. You don't need to deal with this alone. I'm always ready to listen," Larabee told his friend and saw the moisture in his eyes. He watched as the older man tied off the makeshift bandage and took a deep breath as he struggled to stand up.
"Thanks, Chris, I'll never forget this," he vowed, the eyes lending truth to his words. "Now let's get you back home." He reached down and pulled the younger man to his feet and eased his uninjured arm over his shoulder.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"We were able to keep it to ourselves and never spoke of the incident after. Baker never heard from Juliet after that and we never spoke of her letter. He graduated from West Point and I didn't see him again until he rode into Four Corners."
"What's he doin' now?"
"I'm not sure, Vin. We haven't really talked about. Figured if he was up to no good he would've done it by now."
The sharpshooter watched as Larabee placed his head in his hands. He could tell the talk had taken a lot out of the gunslinger and knew he needed to lie down, but he also needed to eat. "Head hurtin'?"
"Yeah," Larabee winced as he stood and headed back inside. He used his hands and felt his way towards the bed before dropping heavily onto the mattress. He heard Vin moving around and felt someone standing in front of him. A cup was placed in his hands and he sniffed it. "Thanks."
"Any time," Tanner said as he watched the gunslinger drink the fiery liquid. The tracker knew Larabee would take it a lot easier than the laudanum and it would probably ease his stomach a little, or dull the pain enough for the man to sleep. Vin took the empty glass back and watched as the injured man lay back on the bed. He sighed as the sightless eyes closed and his friend seemed to drift towards sleep.
Vin returned to the table and picked at the meal he'd prepared. He knew how much a man, especially a man with Chris' reputation, needed his sight, and he prayed that Larabee's would return.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Phillip Rollins stood at the bar listening to the conversations around him. He'd been in town three days now and made sure to keep a low profile. He knew people who'd seen him laughed behind his back because he was considered a coward, but he didn't care. No matter how many times he'd backed down from a fight people still respected him, not for his own reputation, but because of the man he rode with. He'd known Jake Peters was coming to Four Corners to challenge Chris Larabee. From what he'd overheard, Larabee had taken down Peters and this shocked him. Rollins knew Peters and considered him one of the fastest guns around, and purposely cultured a friendship with the man in order to gain a small reputation of his own. No one dared challenge him because they were afraid Peters would come after them. Now Peters was dead, but there was still a chance to save his own reputation. All that needed to be done was to finish what Peters started, kill Chris Larabee. He smiled as he realized how easy that would be. From all accounts Larabee had not come out of the gunfight unscathed, Jake had managed to hit him and now Larabee was blind. Rollins turned and surveyed the people in the saloon. Two men sat at the back, one dressed in a red coat and shuffling a deck of cards, the second was a larger man in a serape and leaning heavily against the wall. He knew they were two of the seven peacekeepers who protected the town, two others were out on patrol and a fifth was in the clinic over the livery. He knew Larabee was at his shack and that the final peacekeeper was there with him. All he had to do was ride out to the shack, take care of Tanner and challenge Larabee. The fact that it would not be a fair gunfight didn't bother Rollins, a reputation was a reputation and how it was made didn't matter. He downed the last of his whiskey, left the saloon, mounted a tall Bay and rode slowly out of town. No one seemed to notice the unobtrusive man as he left Four Corners in search of revenge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next few days were a jumble to Chris. He'd go to sleep with darkness and wake up to the same. He began to wonder why he even bothered to open his eyes, nothing changed, no images met his eyes. Nathan came out a couple of times and the stitches were finally removed from the bullet wound. His headaches continued, but the severity seemed to diminish until they were more of a dull throb, an annoyance rather than a problem. Once in a while the pain came back in full force and he'd be forced to take to his bed once more to ride it out. It was on those occasions when his stomach would once again rebel against the idea of food. He knew the others were worried about him, but there was nothing he could do about it. He sighed as he sat up, unsure if it was day or night as he slid his legs over the edge.
"Morning, Chris."
Larabee smiled at the sharpshooter's greeting. Vin had made it a point to say hello by using the time of day in his greeting. "Morning, any coffee?"
"Just made a pot. You want it here or outside?"
"Outside," Larabee stood up and slowly walked to the door. The gunslinger felt weak and knew it was due to the inability to eat enough food, but he was beginning to feel a little better in spite of the ever present darkness. He found the edge of the frame, stepped into the warm sunshine, and smiled as he heard a soft whinny from the corral. Chris used the edge of the railing and made his way down the single step. He crossed the short distance to the corral and smiled as he reached the fence. He reached over the edge and felt Diablo's breath on his hand.
"Hey, Boy," he greeted as he patted the animal's neck. He felt around the post until he found the brush and carefully tended the gelding, a smile on his face as the horse showed its happiness by whinnying loudly. He felt Vin Tanner watching him, but kept talking to the two horses in the corral.
"Coffee's gettin' cold," Tanner called out fifteen minutes later. He knew how good this was for the gunslinger, yet again it was important to make sure he took care of himself. He watched as Larabee placed the brush on top of the post and turned to walk back to the porch. He held his breath as the blond staggered but didn't go down. He curtailed the temptation to help him, knowing Larabee needed to build up his confidence.
Chris smiled sheepishly as he made it to the porch and sat down on the step. He knew Tanner had seen him stumble and was grateful for his silence. He took the cup of coffee and sipped at the strong brew. The two men sat in companionable silence, content to listen to the sounds of nature around them. A birds shrill whistle, a soft breeze through the trees, the sounds made as Diablo and Unalii circled the corral, lulled the two men into a sense of security. Chris sighed heavily as he finished the coffee. His head was pounding again, but there was something else, something he didn't want to tell his companion about until he was sure. The pain continued to escalate and he knew he needed to lie down before his head exploded.
"Go ahead, Chris," Tanner said, seeing the telltale signs of pain on Larabee's face.
Chris didn't say a word as he stood up and slowly made his way into the cabin. He felt Vin's presence behind him and knew the trigger like reflexes were there if his strength gave out. He sank onto the bed and was instantly asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Rollins watched the tiny cabin for any sign of movement. He could see a man tending the horses and knew this had to be Vin Tanner. He knew the best thing to do was walk his horse into the yard and act like he'd just stumbled onto them. He took the Bay's reins and slowly walked towards the small cabin.
Vin's head came up and he looked around. His eyes came to rest on a man walking towards him. He reached for his Mare's leg resting against the side of the corral and made sure it was loaded. He was instantly on alert as the man led his horse into the yard.
"Mighty glad to see yer place, mister. Was hopin' to get directions."
"Where are ya headin'? Tanner asked
"Lookin' fer a town called Four Corners. Got business there before I head west," Phillips said as he eyed the younger man.
There was something about the stranger that bothered him and Vin made sure he kept his fingers close to the weapon. A sound from inside the cabin startled him and he turned his head for a split second. It was all the time Rollin's needed. He had his gun out and pointed at the sharpshooter.
"Stay where ya are, Tanner!" Rollins warned. He smiled as he saw the hesitation in Tanner's tautly strung body. "I wouldn't! I can cut ya down 'fore ya blink!"
Vin knew the man was right and he glared at him. There'd been no sound from inside the cabin since he'd been distracted and he prayed Chris wouldn't come out now. "What the hell do ya want?"
"Ain't after you, Tanner, although it might be an added bonus if I can take ya back to Tascosa for that reward on yer head. Right now it's Larabee I'm interested in. Now you just turn around and put yer hands behind yer back!"
Vin hesitated once more but the cocking of the pistol sent a clear message that this man wouldn't hesitate to shoot him. 'Can't let him get to Chris!' he thought and his instincts kicked in. He turned and dove for the newcomer, but the man had seen him coming. The butt of the pistol slammed into his head and Vin dropped to the ground. He blinked rapidly, trying to stay conscious as the world seemed to spin rapidly. He felt something being wrapped around his wrists and knew he'd lost any hope of helping his friend.
Chris sat up quickly and realized he must've passed out for a few minutes. He'd heard Vin talking to someone and wanted to make sure everything was okay. He'd been sleeping since they'd shared the coffee outside and once he opened his eyes he realized he was able to see shadows. Not clear ones and certainly not enough to get around by, but his sight was returning. He smiled until a shout from outside brought him back to the reason he'd woke up in the first place. The pain was still present, but at least it wasn't the all consuming agony it was earlier.
"Hey, Larabee, get out 'ere or I'll kill Tanner!"
He pushed upwards until he was on his feet. His knees threatened to give out, but he forced back the weakness as he squinted into the shadows. He knew his gun would be hanging over the chair by the bed and he reached for it. He buckled it on as the voice came again.
"Ain't got all day, Larabee. Tanner's got ten seconds 'fore I put a bullet in 'im!"
"God Damn you! He's blind!" the sharpshooter said as Rollins completed the threat he knew would bring Larabee outside.
"Think that matters?" Rollins asked. "He killed my partner and now he's gonna die. At least I'm gonna give 'im a chance. Did ya hear me, Larabee?"
"I heard you!" Chris said as he stepped into the shadowy doorway. The sun was brighter now, but shadows were still all he could see and even those were hard to discern. The bright sunlight drilled holes through his skull and made it difficult for him to focus. His stomach churned, but he fought it down and tried to find Vin Tanner. He knew this man was a coward as soon as he'd heard Vin tell him Chris was blind. The man's declaration that it didn't matter was all Chris needed to know. He knew he had little or no chance of beating the newcomer. He knew his only chance was to bluff his way out. 'A blind man's bluff,' he thought. He sucked in a deep breath and took a step into the open.
"I came ta take ya down, Larabee."
Chris stepped into the yard, a cocky grin forming on his face as he caught sight of the shadowy movement against the bright backdrop of sunlight. "Others have tried!" The grin grew wider.
Rollins faltered as Larabee stepped into the sunlight. The look on this man's face was not one of utter defeat he expected to see. There was no hint of blindness in the eyes that looked straight at him. The set of the shoulders and the placement of the legs oozed confidence. He took a deep breath as he looked at the gunslinger. The man's eyes never wavered, the steady cold gaze was directed at him. He shifted to the right and gasped as Larabee followed him.
Chris saw the movement and knew he needed this man to believe he could see him clearly. "Are you ready to die?"
"Ain't g...gonna be me that dies, Larabee!" He hated the slight tremor in his voice, yet something about this man was frightening. "I could shoot ya even if ya could see."
"Then why the hell don't ya wait until he's got 'is sight back?" the sharpshooter growled as he struggled against the encroaching darkness.
"Who says I can't see?" Larabee grinned as he turned his gaze on the sharpshooter.
"Ya can?" Rollins asked.
Larabee cocked his head to the side and smiled at the man. "Guess there's only one way ta find out. Say your prayers..."
"I, ah, I was just...Ya know..."
"Come on, I don't have all day. Draw!" Larabee's fingers flexed over his gun. His eyes were watering, his head swimming, but he refused to even blink.
"No! I don't...I's jest funnin' with ya, Mister. Please, Mister, I didn't mean nuthin' by it. Sorry I 'urt yer friend."
Larabee's vision blurred further, but he had to finish it. He walked towards the newcomer, fighting his body's weakness and refusing to give voice to the pain in his head. He stood in front of the man and snarled. "You got two minutes to mount up and get off my property or I'll shoot you where you stand."
"Okay, I...I'm gone." Rollin's raced to his horse and mounted up. He didn't hear the laughter that followed him, all he knew was he had to get out of there before Larabee put a bullet in him.
Chris stood his ground until he was sure the gunman was out of sight and wouldn't be returning. His head felt like it had split in two as he sank to his knees. He clenched his eyes in an effort to stay awake as he knelt beside the tracker. He knew the younger man was speaking to him, but there was only the pounding roar in his skull. He felt for the ropes and quickly undid the knots, before he laid back on the ground.
"Chris, are ya okay?"
"F...fine," Larabee said as he lost the contents of his stomach and passed out.
Vin's head was finally clearing and he wanted to get Larabee back to town in case Rollins decided to return. He quickly readied the horses and wondered how he would keep Larabee in the saddle if he couldn't keep his own eyes focused. A soft moan from the ground told him Larabee was stirring and he knelt beside him.
"Chris."
"Yeah."
"I'm gonna get ya back ta town so Nathan can take a look at ya."
"I'm fine, Vin."
Tanner knew there'd be no point in arguing with the gunslinger and used his own injury to ensure the gunslinger's cooperation. "I don't think either one of us is fine, Cowboy."
Larabee sat up quickly and moaned as fireworks went off in his head. "What's wrong, Vin? You hurt?"
"Yeah, got a hell of a headache where he pistol whipped me."
"Guess that makes two of us," Larabee winced as Tanner helped him to his feet. "Are you okay to ride?"
"I'm fine. Come on." The two men mounted the horses and Tanner led them towards Four Corners. He was afraid to ask if Chris could see, afraid of hearing the answer he didn't want. 'Hell of a bluff, Chris!' he thought as they rode away from the cabin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hey, Nate, Vin and Chris are ridin' in," Dunne said as he pushed open the doors of the saloon.
Four men stood up and hurried towards the doors.
"Hope nuthin's happened to them," Jackson said as he watched the two riders moving slowly towards them.
"We're talking about Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner. What could possibly happen to them," Standish blustered sarcastically and laughed with the others.
Nathan hurried ahead to meet the two men as Larabee listed in the saddle. "How are you doing, Chris?" he asked.
"I'm fine, Nathan. Vin's the one who needs help."
"Is that so? What happened?" He asked as Tanner slid from the saddle.
"Friend of Peters stopped by Chris' place and wanted to call him out..."
"But Chris is blind," Dunne hissed angrily.
"Yeah and you need a shave, Kid," Larabee said as he slid from the saddle.
"I was on my ....Hey, how'd you know that?"
"I can see..."
"You ol' war dog. How?" Wilmington slapped Larabee on the back as Jackson inspected the injury to Vin's head.
"It just started coming back this morning."
"So where is this acquaintance of Peters?"
"Chris bluffed him out," Tanner laughed. "The fool nearly shook in his boots with Chris glaring down on him."
"Hell, that glare probably scared him away," Wilmington laughed.
"How much can you see?" Jackson asked.
"It's mostly just shadows unless I'm up close. Can see JD's shadow real well."
"Vin, how's your vision?" the healer asked.
"Okay. Was a little blurry, but it's fine now."
"Alright, let's get you two up to the clinic so I can have a good look at you."
"I'd rather have a drink first, Nathan," Larabee said as he headed for the dark outline of the saloon.
"Chris!"
"Nathan, let him have one. We got something to celebrate, Brothers," Sanchez said as he followed Larabee towards the saloon.
"Chris!"
The gunslinger stopped and turned at the sound of the familiar female voice. "Mary," he said as she stepped up beside him.
"How are you feeling?"
Larabee squinted against the bright sunlight until her face came into focus. He lifted his hand and gently wiped at her cheek, smiling at the frown on her face he showed her his hand and smiled. "You got ink on your face, Mary."
"I do?" she asked, her hand automatically going to her cheek. Her blue eyes widened in surprise as his words hit her. "Chris, you can..."
"I can see, Mary." He leaned close to her hear and whispered for her ears only. "And you look beautiful even in ink."
"Chris." A slight blush rose to her cheeks at his words. "I'm so glad," she said as tears formed in her eyes and he wiped them away.
"Thanks, Mary. I'll see you later okay?"
"Okay."
"Mary, we're gonna have one drink and then we'll be at the clinic," Jackson informed her and held up his hands. "Chris, you've lost weight and I know you're not eating properly yet so we gotta be careful. No arguments or we go to the clinic now."
Chris touched her cheek once more and walked towards the saloon. He knew Jackson was right and it would take some time for him to build his strength back up, but at least he would be able to see again and for that he was grateful. He followed the others into the saloon and moved to the regular table. The headache was returning and he knew one drink would probably be all he could handle. He sat down and smiled as Inez placed a glass of whiskey in front of him. He spotted Baker Campbell at the next table and lifted his glass. The other man returned he gesture, but left Chris to the company of his new friends.
THE END
