Set in the C-SET universe
We don't own the boys, unfortunately. "I'm Movin' On" is the property of Rascal Flatts and was used without permission. No money was made. All feedback is greatly appreciated.
Chris Larabee set his suitcase down by the door as he turned on the lights in the house. He had just returned from Lake Tahoe, where he had been visiting his friend, Buck Wilmington. But his reason for going up there was more involved. He had been asked by an old acquaintance to stop by, and had been offered a job. A chance to head up a brand-new Cross State Enforcement Team, that would cover the area on both sides of the Nevada/California state line. After a number of discussions with Buck and some deep soul-searching, he had made the decision to accept the job. Then he returned home to go about closing a bittersweet chapter of his life.
Chris spent the next couple of weeks tying up loose ends in Colorado. He had given his resignation to the Marshals service, sold the ranch, given the post office his new address and made arrangements with a moving company. All that was left was to finish packing his things.
I've dealt with my ghosts and faced all my demons
Finally content with a past I regret
I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness
For once I'm at peace with myself
While removing some cleaning supplies from under the sink, he came across an empty whiskey bottle. He figured that it must have missed the trash can in one of his drunken binges. He could still remember the day he finally realized that drowning his grief in a bottle wasn't how he wanted to honor Sarah and Adam's memories. That was the day he changed, his sorrow tempered with the fact that at least he had had the two of them in his life, even if it had been for just a short time.
Chris stumbled into the bathroom, still feeling the effects from the monster hangover. Yesterday had been the anniversary of the deaths of his beloved wife and son. He had drunk himself into a stupor trying to kill the pain that still haunted him. He glanced at himself in the mirror on his way to the shower and stopped short, taking a good, long look at himself. Tufts of blond hair were standing up straight, his eyes were bloodshot and he had a split lip and a bruise on one cheek. The damage to his face was compliments of the bouncer in the bar that had felt that Chris had had enough and tried to get the man to leave in the cab the bartender had called.
Chris realized that the last time he had looked this bad had been a few weeks before he met Sarah. He had been a real hell-raiser, barhopping and getting into one fight after another. But meeting Sarah had changed him. He had stopped his carousing, trying to be a man that Sarah could be proud of. Looking into the mirror, he knew that Sarah would be disappointed in him now. Since their deaths, Chris had been drunk more than he'd been sober. He was damn lucky that he hadn't been fired yet. How many times had he gone to work hungover? Or called in sick because of his drinking the night before? God, Sarah, Chris thought, I need you here to kick my butt in gear.
He grabbed a shower, shaving off the three-day growth of whiskers on his face. After getting dressed in clean clothes, he walked into the living room. Opening the cabinet beneath the bar, he grabbed the bottles of whiskey he had stashed there and took them to the kitchen sink. He unscrewed the cap of one bottle, and started to pour it down the sink. But he hesitated, his mouth going dry at the thought of not having anything in the house to dull the pain. He started to put the cap back on and hesitated again. Thinking once again about Sarah and Adam, he squared his shoulders and tipped the bottle over, watching as the amber liquid sloshed out of the bottle and down the drain. He repeated this until every bottle was empty. He took the empty bottles and dumped them into the garbage can outside, closing the lid with a satisfying thunk. Returning to the kitchen, he loaded up the dishwasher with the dirty dishes that had been piling up in the sink, then started the first of several loads of laundry. He spent the rest of the day cleaning up the house that he'd been neglecting for far too long. By the end of the day, he was sore and tired, but looked around his clean house with a touch of pride.
After eating a substantial dinner, he took his coffee out to the porch and looked up at the stars shining brightly in the midnight sky. Softly, he spoke. "I'm sorry, Sarah, I promise I'll do better. I miss you both. I'll try my best to live up to your memory. I want to be that man again, that man that had the best woman in the world as his wife. And the greatest son a man could ask for. I love you both." Turing to go back inside, he hesitated as the breeze caused the wind chime to sound. He loved that chime. It's sound reminded him of Sarah's laughter. He'd even told her that when he had given it to her. She had laughed and told him he was a closet romantic. He'd laughed, but hadn't denied her statement. Smiling gently, he breathed deeply, smelling the roses that Sarah had planted by the steps. Going into the house, he finally settled down to sleep naturally, instead of drinking himself into unconciousness.
I've been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long.
He picked up a picture of him and Sarah, getting ready to wrap it securely and pack it in the box. But as he picked up the frame, a smaller picture fell out of the back. Chris could see that it had been tucked into the back of the frame. As Chris looked closely at the picture, he realized that it was a picture of a very young Sarah with her father, Hank Connolly. Chris grimaced. Hank had never been his favorite person. The man's unyielding attitude when Chris and Sarah had eloped had hurt his wife, Chris knew. And anyone who hurt Sarah was Chris' enemy. He could still remember the only time that he had come face-to-face with Hank after Sarah's death.
Chris walked into the grocery store. He needed to pick up coffee, as he had used up the last of it that morning. He stumbled as he bumped into a man in the aisle, looked up and realized that it was his father-in-law. He hadn't seen the man since Sarah and Adam's deaths a few years before. He knew it was probably useless, but out of respect for his late wife, he had to try.
"Hank," Chris said, nodding his head in a gesture of hello.
Hank Connolly just grunted, his eyes going hard. "Got nothing to say to you, Larabee. My Sarah was too good for the likes of you. I blame you for her death. I'll go to my grave blaming you. If she hadn't married you, she would have been at home with me, where she belonged. Not out gallivanting on some damn mountain. It's your fault she's dead. Just stay out of my way." With that, Hank brushed past Chris. The younger man just sighed. He knew trying to be polite was a waste of time. Ignoring the stares of the customers that had overheard Hank's speech, he continued down the aisle, grabbed his coffee and headed to the registers.
I've lived in this place and I know all the faces
Each one is different but they're always the same
They mean me no harm but it's time that I face it
They'll never allow me to change
Chris picked up the 'Good Luck' card he had received from the other Marshals that he worked with. He knew that he had surprised many of them when he accepted this job. They figured he would remain a Marshal until his drinking caused him to either get fired or get killed. Picking up and moving to a new place and a new job didn't fit with the image they had of him.
Chris could hear the whispers behind him. He knew he deserved it, so he made no effort to confront them. The other Marshals always let the new recruits know the score. So all the newbies were told to 'watch out' for Larabee. Then they told them about Larabee losing his family and his disappearance inside a bottle. Truth be told, though, these past few weeks of being off the hard liquor had him feeling pretty good. It was nice to wake up without the headache and cotton-mouth the whiskey left behind. He stilled missed Sarah and Adam terribly, but he was putting his energy toward repairing things around the ranch that had been left undone for so long. He'd stick to beer when he wanted a drink, but he didn't intend to get falling down drunk anymore.
His supervisor had noticed the change, as had some of his fellow Marshals. Some had encouraging words, but Chris knew that most of them were just biding their time, expecting to see him stumble again. He'd overheard one of them, Jim Fields, talking in the break room.
"Larabee may be sober now, but you can bet your ass that he'll soon be back to his drunk, surly self."
"Maybe he's realized that drinking himself to death won't help," Marshal Mike Peters said. "A man can change."
"Bullshit," Fields replied. "Larabee's too damn set in his ways to change. He's a stubborn SOB." Most of the men were silent, but Chris knew that they probably agreed with Fields. He turned around without getting the coffee he'd been intending to get. Instead, he left the building to grab a quick lunch. Upon his return, there was a message from former Federal Judge Orrin Travis. He had no idea that returning that phone call was going to point his life in a new direction.
At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me
Chris gazed at the man behind the desk. "Well, I can definitely see the need for a team like you're proposing, sir. Am I to assume that you want me to be on this team?" he asked Orrin Travis, Nevada's Attorney General.
"Not just on the team, Chris, we would like you to lead the team."
And I know there's no guarantee, but I'm not alone
Chris had run out of packing boxes and had run down to the moving company's store to get some more. When he returned home, the light was blinking on his answering machine.
"Chris, it's Buck. I got my flight information. Give me a call when you get this message and I'll give you the info. I'll be flying in on Thursday night. That way, I can help you finish up with everything on Friday and we'll be ready to go on Saturday morning. I'll be waiting to hear from you."
Chris smiled, glad that Buck was going to be driving back up to Tahoe with him. It would make the drive easier and less lonely. Chris was grateful that Buck was such a good friend. It was going to be good working with the easy-going man. Not that Buck had been subtle in his desire to be part of this team, especially if Chris was leading it.
"So, pard," Buck asked, "how did your meeting with AG Travis go?"
Chris smiled slightly, not fooled by Buck's seeming disinterest. "It went okay, Buck. I understand that you threw my name into the ring for this position."
"Yep. And I stand by what I said to the city council, Chris. You would do a hell of a job leading this team."
"Thanks for the compliment, Buck. Ya know, if I were to take the job, I'd need a good right hand man. Someone I could trust and who knows the area. You got any ideas on who I could get for that job?"
"Hell, pard, you gonna make me beg? I would love to be a part of this team. But more importantly, Chris, I'd be thrilled to work with you. You take this job, you can guarantee that I'll be the first one asking for an application."
There comes a time in everyone's life
When all you can see are the years passing by
And I have made up my mind that those days are gone
Chris picked up some of the sheets he had dumped on the bed in order to pack them in the open box on the floor when he heard the crinkle of paper. Digging through the sheets, he found the envelope he'd received from Travis. The Attorney General had sent Chris the promised list of potential candidates for the team that Chris would be leading. It had taken the full week for him to make up his mind and decide to take the job that was offered. When he called Travis to accept, the other man had been so sure that Chris would turn him down that he didn't even register Chris' statement at first.
Taking a breath, Chris picked up the phone and dialed the number. When Orrin's assistant answered, Chris identified himself and asked to speak with the Attorney General. Travis came on the line a few seconds later.
"Chris, it's good to hear from you. I take it you have a decision for me?"
"Yes, sir. I really appreciate the offer. I've decided to accept the job."
"Now, Chris, I know it's hard to think about picking up and moving to a new place, but I really think you'll be perfect for this job. Please reconsider."
"Sir, I said I want the job."
There was silence for several seconds, then, "You want the job. Chris, that's great. I'm very pleased. I think this is going to be a good thing for everyone concerned."
"I think so, too, sir."
"I'll let the city council know this evening. And Chris..."
"Sir?"
"Welcome to Tahoe." With a laugh, Travis hung up the phone. Chris smiled and did the same.
I've loved like I should, but lived like I shouldn't
Chris gave a final turn to the combination lock to his wall safe and opened up the door. He reached in and pulled out the contents, about $1,000 in cash, two pieces of his mother's jewelry and several important documents. The top one was Adam's birth certificate. Chris smiled, remembering the day that Adam was born.
Chris wasn't ashamed to admit that he cried when he heard his son's first wails. He glanced down at his wife, laying on the bed in the delivery room. She was pale, sweating and had dark smudges under her eyes. Chris wasn't surprised, considering everything she'd gone through since her labor had started more than fourteen hours earlier. But she was still beautiful to Chris. He smiled under the surgical mask the nurses had put on him.
"Mr Larabee, would you like to hold your son?" the doctor asked.
As they handed the baby to him, Chris' hands shook. Oh, God, what if I drop the baby? Sarah will be pissed if I do that, he thought. But as the nurse showed him where to place his hands and he looked down into that tiny face, he forgot everything but the sight of his son. He felt his heart contract. He couldn't believe that he and Sarah had created another human being. He looked at his wife.
"He's so beautiful, Sarah. Our son is perfect," he said in awe. Sarah smiled at him, but didn't have the strength to do much more. As Chris stroked his finger down the baby's cheek, the boy reached out and grabbed onto the finger. Chris was amazed at the strength in that grip and knew that the child had an even stronger grip on his father's heart. He never thought he would love anyone as much as he loved Sarah, but as he stared down into his son's eyes, he knew he was wrong. Although he was only minutes old, Chris couldn't imagine his life without this child.
"Hey, there, little guy. I'm your pa." He smiled and walked over to the bed where Sarah lay. "You know what," he told the baby, "You are the luckiest baby in the world. Want to know why? Because this is your mom," he said, placing the baby in Sarah's arms.
Sarah stoked the baby's head, then looked up at her husband, her eyes brimming with tears. "You're right, he's perfect."
"Do you have a name for the baby?" a nurse asked.
Chris and Sarah shared a smile. "Adam. Adam Bucklin." Chris answered her. "Named after his grandfather and his godfather."
Two days later, Chris came from the side of the house and saw Sarah sitting on the porch swing, holding Adam in her arms. His face lit up and he sat down next to her, kissing her on the cheek.
"You know, I have got to be the most fortunate cuss in the world," Chris said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, after spending a lot of years being such a hell-raiser and getting into more trouble than any ten men, you'd think I'd be headed straight to hell. Instead, I meet an earthbound angel who becomes my wife, then gives me a beautiful son. You took a real big chance on me, Sarah. And I'm grateful for it. I'm not sure what I did to deserve you and Adam, but I thank God for it every day. You are the best thing that ever happened to me."
Sarah smiled as Chris talked. He usually wasn't so vocal about his feelings. Oh, she knew he loved her. He showed her in a thousand different ways every day. But it was wonderful to hear it put into words. As her eyes stung, she knew she had to lighten the mood, or she was going to burst into tears.
"I love you, too," she said, then grinned. "And you need to watch your language. We have a child now, and they pick up everything."
"Oh, hell...uh, I mean, heck." Chris groaned, but his eyes twinkled. Then he glanced nervously at Sarah and cleared his throat. "I have something for you. It's not as spectacular as what you gave me," he told her, indicating the baby. "But I've been keeping an eye out and finally found what I was looking for. Wait right here."
Sarah looked puzzled as Chris disappeared around the corner of the house, then gazed down at Adam. "What do you suppose your pa has gone and done, little one, huh?"
Chris came back into sight and Sarah stood up as she spotted Chris' gift. Walking calmly behind Chris was the prettiest horse Sarah had ever seen. The mare was about sixteen hands high, with a red coat and warm brown eyes. Sarah stepped off the porch.
"Oh, Chris, she's gorgeous."
"Go ahead and check her out," he said, taking Adam from her. "I know you'll love her. Her temperment is just like yours. Sweet, gentle and lively, but with a wild streak." Sarah moved over and stroked the horse's muzzle, then her neck. Eyes shining in delight, Sarah looked at Chris.
"What's her name?" she asked.
"That's up to you."
She looked again at the horse, then back at Chris. "Joy. I'm going to call her Joy. As a reminder of how I feel right now." She rushed over and threw her arms around Chris' neck, kissing him passionately. After a few seconds, the baby caught between them started to fuss. They pulled apart, laughing.
Saturday morning, Chris stood looking around the empty house. The movers had taken all the furniture and most of the boxes the day before. He and Buck had spent the morning packing up the last little odds and ends. They would be going with the two men in Chris' truck. The horse trailer was already hooked up to the back. Chris was keeping Sarah's mare, Joy, as well as his own horse, Menace. The other two he had sold to his neighbor, Titus, along with the house and land. Buck had flown down to help, and they would take turns spelling each other during the drive to Tahoe.
Going into the kitchen, Chris lovingly traced his fingers over the marks in the door frame, where he and Sarah had marked Adam's height at different points in his life. Then he walked over to the opposite wall, tracing a faded stain. The stain had been courtesy of Sarah. She and Chris had gotten into a fiery argument one night and Sarah had thrown a wet dishrag at him. She hadn't realized that the rag had tomato sauce from dinner on it. Chris had ducked and the rag, sauce side out, had hit the wall with a splat. The red sauce had soaked into the white paint. Chris and Sarah had both started laughing, tears running down their faces. Eventually, they had made up, their passion just as fiery as their fights. Chris was still positive that was the night Adam had been conceived.
"Chris," Buck poked his head inside. "The last box is in the truck. I think we're ready to go."
Chris nodded. "Okay, Buck. I'll be right there. Just give me a minute."
"Sure thing, pard. Take as long as you need."
Chris took a final look around the house, blinking back tears as he made sure that he hadn't forgotten anything. Back at the front door, he turned around. "I'll make you both proud of me, Sarah. And I won't forget you. You'll both live in my heart forever," he said, tapping his chest. Taking a deep breath, he walked out of the house and closed and locked the door behind him. He had already given Titus his keys. Making one last stop, Chris reached up and took down the wind chime hanging on the porch and snapped off two of the roses on the bush down by the stairs. Then he climbed into the truck, where Buck was already settled in the passenger seat.
"You ready to go, pard?" his friend asked.
"Yeah, Buck. I'm ready. We'll have to stop for gas before we get too far down the road." Buck just nodded, and reached down to turn up the volume on the radio. As they pulled out of the driveway for the last time, a country station was filling the truck cab with soft sounds.
I've dealt with my ghosts and faced all my demons
Finally content with a past I regret
I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness
For once I'm at peace with myself
I've been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long
I'm movin' on
I've lived in this place and I know all the faces
Each one is different but they're always the same
They mean me no harm but it's time that I face it
They'll never allow me to change
But I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong
I'm movin' on
I'm movin' on
At last I can see life had been patiently waiting for me
And I know there's no guarantee, but I'm not alone
There comes a time in everyone's life
When all you can see are the years passing by
And I have made up my mind that those days are gone
I sold what I could and packed what I couldn't
Stopped to fill up on my way out of town
I've loved like I should but lived like I shouldn't
I had to lose everything to find out
Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road
I'm movin' on
I'm movin' on
I'm movin' on
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