Series/Universe: Family Business
Disclaimers: M7 characters belong to Trilogy, et al. Original characters are all mine ... don't mind if you borrow them, just ask first, give them back intact and give credit where credit is due.
Warnings: The usual ... violence, language, and references to ugliness. Oh yeah, and the original characters. Can't forget them.
Spoilers: All twenty-one episodes, my Road to Hell trilogy, (Recovery, Reunion and Reconciliation) and the stories in my Facets series will probably be alluded to.
Author's Note: The title is a bit anachronistic, since it's inspired by a 20th century song, but given the events of the story, I think it's appropriate.
A Sudden Gift of Fate
"And so this has to be,
a sudden gift of fate.
You're nothing less to me,
than a sudden gift of fate."
Mary Chapin Carpenter, A Sudden Gift of Fate, from the A Place in the World CD.
It sure as hell seemed like a good idea at the time. Like many other outlaws in the territory, the Reed brothers had heard that Four Corners was no longer protected by the seven peacekeepers. And like every other outlaw who had tried to take advantage of that, they heard what had happened to destroy the Seven. Even if only one or two members remained, they still weren't enough to stop the Reed boys.
But once again, his brother's so-called 'good ideas' landed them all in a heap of trouble. Although, 'a heap of trouble' was only one way of putting it. Uriah was dead, and Micah was in jail. The darkie healer, the one who sold out his friend, was tryin' to save Henry, but Micah wasn't holding out much hope of his eldest brother's survival. After all, the darkie didn't think his friend was worth saving, and from what Micah was told, this was a man who saved his life.
Micah adjusted his body on the cot, staring up at the ceiling. Yup, like many others, the Reed brothers heard that Four Corners was no longer protected by the Seven. And like many others, they decided to hit the bank ... and a few other places, including the town newspaper. Uriah heard the widow who ran it was real pretty. Like many others ... their information wasn't totally good. Micah got a look at the widow lady who ran the Clarion, and she was damn pretty. But not only were the Seven protecting the town, but they were twice as deadly as before. Might have something to do with the leader still bein' pissed at two of his men.
And that tracker! Hell, they thought he was dead! Dead, yeah, right. Damn tracker was the liveliest dead man they had ever seen! The Reed gang rode into Four Corners with fifteen men. Five of those men were dead thanks to that 'dead' tracker, and one of those five men was Micah's brother. On the other hand ... Uriah didn't bother to verify his information, and that was the first thing Uncle Hadley taught them.
So Micah wasn't gonna bother with going after the Seven for revenge. That was the second thing Uncle Hadley taught them. If one of y'all get killed doin' something stupid, don't go after the law man who done the killing. That's what they do, Uncle Hadley said. That's their job, it ain't personal, don't make it personal. You make it personal, you wind up dead. Micah had only look at his uncle to know that was true. Uncle Hadley died the year before at the age of seventy-five ... died peaceful in his sleep.
On the other hand, if the opportunity presented itself, to inflict a little pain on the tracker, Micah didn't see anything wrong with that. Or ... maybe that wouldn't be such a hot idea. Seemed to him that tall cowboy, the one with the mustache, was actin' awful protective of the tracker. Makin' sure he was okay, that he hadn't hurt himself. From what Uriah heard, the big cowboy was the other one who sold out the tracker.
So, if the big cowboy was feelin' guilty about betrayin' his friend, it was a pretty good guess he'd be all over Micah like stink on shit, if Micah pulled anything with the tracker. Nope, not such a good idea after all. Micah shifted on the cot once more. Ever since the failed heist, three days earlier, Micah hadn't done anything but lay here and listen to the gossip of the locals as they passed the jail.
It was a helluva way to learn about the town you tried to hit. The Seven had been back in town for about a month now. A month, dammit! They should have known about that, and it made Micah mad as hell. It made him even madder that he was so damn bored, he could tell which of the peacekeepers had entered the jail, just from the sound their boots made on the floor. Just as he could tell the newcomer now was the tracker.
Micah pushed himself into a sitting position. From his eavesdropping, Micah had learned that the tracker was his own age, twenty-five. That only the day after his return to Four Corners, he had been attacked by one of the people he was hired to protect. Judging from the way the tracker moved, Micah was guessing the stab wound was in his leg. He didn't move so quickly...well, compared to the way he used to move, from what Micah heard. A fact which scared the hell out of Micah ... what was the man capable of when he wasn't injured?
"Judge is comin' back today ... gonna have yer trial day after tomorrah," the tracker announced in a soft, hoarse voice. Blue eyes, shaded under the hat, flickered over Micah, then the tracker asked softly, "Anybody come tell ya 'bout the wounded in yer gang?" Micah shook his head, and the other man snorted, shaking his head in amusement. He said, "Likely got distracted. The one fella, the one who was gutshot, looks like he's gonna make it."
Henry was gutshot ... he would make it. Micah didn't know how that was possible, as everyone whom he had ever known who was gutshot died. But the peacekeeper had no reason to lie to him, that he knew of. The tracker continued, "Don't know 'bout the others. Ya ready to eat?" Micah nodded eagerly ... the news that Henry would live restored his appetite. The tracker nodded once, a short quick bob of his head, then started to leave the jail once more. He didn't even get to the door before turning back and asking hoarsely, "Y'all hear that Four Corners weren't protected no more?"
"That was the information my brother ... Uriah ... had," Micah replied. The tracker nodded, and started to leave, but Micah called, "Wait." Again, the man stopped and Micah asked, gesturing helplessly, "Why? Why did you come back? After they betrayed you, why would you come back to those men, to this town?" The tracker walked back to face Micah, and for the first time, he saw the other man's face clearly.
For the first time, he could believe this man was his own age. A very tired twenty-five year old man, but there it was. The tracker asked softly, "Lemme ask ya this. Ya got plans to kill any 'a us for yer brother dyin' in our town?" Micah shook his head and the tracker continued, "Same reason, I s'pect. I done heard about the Reed gang. Knew about yer uncle. It weren't his way to take revenge, not when ya ain't done somethin' smart, and it got one of y'all killed. Same thing. I ain't got no call to punish four men, or this town, for what two men done wrong."
It made sense. God help him, but the tracker's logic actually made sense. Micah blurted out, "But how can you forgive them? They almost got you killed, how can you ever trust either of them again? You still have the other four to watch your back, but what about them two? Can you ever trust either of them to do that? They sold you out while you was sick! Hell, everyone in the damn territory heard about it!"
"Didn't say I trusted 'em. I don't. Friend a' mine, she once tol' me. Forgivin' somebody is easy. For ... give. But trust ain't the same thing as forgiveness. Not the same thin' at all. Startin' to forgive 'em. And givin' both of 'em a chance to ... for me to trust 'em again. But trust takes time," the tracker answered. Micah stared at this man, who suddenly seemed ancient to him. He had to be far older than twenty-five, never mind the youthful face.
The tracker sighed and said, "Reckon I'll wait 'til 'Siah comes back." He walked to the desk and eased himself down, a strained expression of pain crossing his face. Micah sat back against the cot, mulling over what the tracker told him. And a plan started to form in his mind. The tracker had been forthcoming with his answers, once he understood what Micah knew. It never even occurred to the young outlaw that he learned nothing new from the tracker. But he thought he found a weak spot in the Seven.
He didn't see the measuring blue eyes under the cavalry hat. As the tracker fell silent, Micah erroneously thought he was asleep. He didn't see the eyes watching him. Didn't see the corners of the mouth quirk into an amused half-smile. No, Micah Reed had dismissed the tracker from his mind, except to figure out a way to use the continuing schism within the Seven to his advantage. Never even suspecting that the tracker was onto him. Never even thinking about why the man was such a good tracker.
It wasn't the first time an outlaw, or anyone, made that mistake. It wouldn't be the last, either. But Micah Reed was about to learn, for himself, that anyone who made such a mistake courted a disaster. Either two fates awaited him at the end of this particular disaster-in-the-making. Either he would learn from his mistakes ... or his arrogance would get him killed. Only time would tell.
Lordy, Lordy, it was a beautiful morning! The sun was shining, the sky was bright blue, and Buck Wilmington spent the night in the arms of a beautiful lady. He knew most people wouldn't have seen Arabella that way, but he sure as hell did. So, yes, Buck Wilmington was in a fine mood. Especially when he remembered the conversation he had with Chris the previous night, before he took Arabella upstairs.
Judge Travis wanted two of the Seven to escort the able-bodied prisoner, Micah Reed, to Eagle Bend. Seems one of the Reed gang had been killed while trying to rob their bank ... and it couldn't happen to a nicer town, Buck decided. Deputy McCall wanted the body identified. Make sure they really got the man. These days, he was the one who was taking care of most of the communications with Four Corners.
And Chris wanted to know if Buck wanted to escort the prisoner. Hell yes! While things had calmed down in the month they had been back in town, Buck wasn't fully comfortable in Four Corners yet. He still found himself getting in at least one fight a day. Judge Travis warned him that would happen. Not because the instigator gave a rat's ass about Vin, but because of the divisions within the Seven.
There was the perception that the other five wouldn't come to the defense of Buck and Nathan. A perception that wasn't true, but that wasn't the point. Within minutes of starting the fight, the troublemakers found themselves surrounded. The ladies' man grinned to himself, remembering the expression of the last bandit who picked a fight with him and Nathan when he found himself with a faceful of Vin's mare's leg. To say the jackass was surprised was something of ... well, 'surprised' didn't quite cover it. Vin would still watch their backs, much to the shock of the would-be bushwhackers.
The sunshine went out of the day. Yes ... yes, Vin would watch their backs. He just didn't trust them to watch his back. That trust was still reserved for Chris, Ezra, JD, and Josiah. And DeeDee, too. DeeDee. Buck took off his hat, raked his hand through his dark hair, before replacing it on his head. While his sister was gradually letting down her guard again, it was just that. Gradual. Sometimes even slow.
Buck knew not all of it was him leaving her in the asylum nearly two years earlier. But the scars from that abandonment and betrayal would never truly go away. Buck knew he would never be able to forgive himself for leaving her in that hell. Even if she forgave him. Never mind he was told she was dead ... he should have asked to see her body, to take her home to Ohio. Instead, he did exactly what their bastard father expected and walked away.
There was also the matter of Mexico, and what exactly happened to her ... the details of her time there. Over the last month, Buck noticed his sister letting her guard down with Mary Travis. That didn't worry him. What did worry him was the expression in Mary's green eyes anytime someone mentioned Mexico. The sheer fury. His gut told him that somehow, Mary had learned exactly what happened to his sister. Maybe through nightmares, because DeeDee never talked about it with any one. Not even Chris.
And whatever Vin knew, he was keeping to himself. Then again, he would. And speaking of which ... Buck quickened his steps as he noticed Vin and Chris emerging from the saloon. Buck winced, seeing how drawn Vin's face was. Over the last month, he continued to deal with nightmares. It got to the point where he told Chris he would be okay. And for the most part, he was okay. Until a night like the previous, obviously.
Last night, from Vin's face, was a really bad one. Probably as bad as any he had since DeeDee and Laertes rescued him from the prison camp. Buck had made his decision several weeks earlier. He would never say anything about it. Vin was a proud man, and it was bad enough he had to go through the nightmares. Buck wouldn't embarrass him by bringing it to the attention of ... now how did Ezra put that? Oh yeah. Bring it to the attention of all and sundry.
Unfortunately, JD usually did just the opposite. Buck understood where the boy was coming from, but the kid had to understand Vin didn't need him shooting his mouth off. JD wanted to protect Vin, wanted to make up for failing to watch his back. They all had made mistakes where the tracker was concerned, during that time. But by pushing him, they were making things worse. Every time JD opened his mouth about Vin's nightmares, the tracker retreated into himself. Concerned, Buck asked DeeDee about it.
She advised him that was how Vin dealt with those things. When he was ready to talk about them, he would. Right now, he was struggling for control, and he didn't need anyone undermining that. That was exactly what she said, too. Undermine. Seemed likely that she got more than one kind of education in Mexico. And Buck could tell DeeDee was worried about Vin, about the nightmares. But he could also tell that she was determined to do whatever he needed her to do. Including shut her mouth, if that was what would help him. In that respect, she was definitely more like her mother than Buck.
Buck drew closer to Chris and Vin, earning himself a nod from both men. God, Vin looked awful. He was terribly pale, on top of his exhaustion. Just as troubling was his obvious pain. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and a quick once-over told him that Vin's arm was pressed to his gut. But Chris said quietly, "Mornin,' Buck. Vin's goin' with ya to Eagle Bend." You could have knocked Buck over with a feather.
But he rebounded quickly, saying, "Well, then, that's fine. Ya ready to go, Vin?" The tracker nodded, and Buck continued, "Just gotta finish gettin' the supplies. Meetcha at the stables in thirty minutes?" Again the tracker nodded, the motion of his hat allowing Buck to see the other man's eyes. Lord God, he was in pain. But Buck didn't suggest that the tracker remain here. Vin Tanner had been taking care of himself for a very, very long time.
That wouldn't stop Buck Wilmington from looking out for him on the trail, though. As he headed away from the men, and toward Mrs. Potter's store, Buck was already planning out what he would do on the trail. He was looking forward to this journey ... it would give him a chance to win back Vin's trust, more of a chance than he had in town. On the trail, it would just be him and Vin on the return trip. Plenty of time to build bridges.
"You gonna be all right with this, Vin?" Chris Larabee asked as Buck strode away. Was it his imagination, or was the tall cowboy's step a little lighter? He turned his eyes back to Vin Tanner, who was leaning against one of the posts holding up the roof of the saloon. The sharpshooter offered him a wry half-smile, the same smile Chris remembered from before everything went to hell.
"Reckon I bin through worse, cowboy," came the drawled reply. Chris just frowned, knowing all too well that one of those worse things Vin meant was only a few months in the past. Vin added gently, "I meant while I was a bounty hunter. I'll be fine, Chris. But I 'preciate ya worryin.' Better be careful, though ... word might git 'round that yer really a soft touch." Chris scowled at him, and Vin just laughed softly.
God, it was good to have him back. Wisecracks and all. Chris was still finding it hard to believe that they really had Vin back. Still healing, but back. At least, most of them did. He continued to be wary of Nathan and Buck ... but now, those two men accepted it. Buck wasn't back to himself yet, but he was getting there. And Nathan ... Nathan still struggled with his own guilt, but Chris couldn't bring himself to tell the other man he was forgiven. Not yet. He hadn't forgiven Nathan. Not for turning Vin over to the bounty ... dammit, had to watch that. They weren't bounty hunters, they were mercenaries.
And he couldn't forgive Nathan for lying to Vin. Judge Travis told him the why. About trying to preserve peace, but that didn't make it any easier for Chris to tolerate. He asked Vin, "And you'll be okay on the trail?" He didn't mean physically. While it was true Vin's body was still healing, Chris had faith in his friend. Vin took care of himself for years without help from anyone. He knew, better than anyone, when he was pushing too hard.
No, he was more concerned about Vin being ready to go out on the trail with Buck. There would only be Buck to watch his back out there, and it had only been a matter of months since Vin's rescue. The tracker answered softly, "Be fine, Chris. Bin watchin' my own back for years. What was it that the judge called it, when we tol' him in the wire? Oh yeah. This is a trial run. If yer askin' if I'm comfortable ... the answer is no. But I'll get over it."
Chris knew he couldn't ask for anything more than that. And he wouldn't. Just like he wouldn't stop worrying about Vin until both men were back in town. There was no reason Vin had to know that, though. It would only make the tracker anxious, something he didn't need. On the other hand ... Chris said softly, "Just so you know ... I'll be lookin' out for Adriana while you two are on the trail. Things about the past have a habit of coming out."
They both knew that Chris meant Adriana's early life, as the daughter of a working girl, and her years in Mexico. To say nothing about her stay at an insane asylum near Pordios. That remained a sensitive subject for Buck Wilmington's younger sister, and any attempts to discuss whatever happened to her in that hellhole went nowhere. The subject was always quickly changed. She wasn't ready to talk about it. To anyone.
"We all got pasts, Chris," Vin answered softly, then added, "And I 'preciate ya lookin' out for her. Girl's been jumpy, ever since she and Laura settled here. She ain't used to towns, she ain't used to people." Chris nodded. Yeah, he understood. He had his shack ... cabin ... as a retreat, but Adriana was still too unsettled to find her own sanctuary. Vin shook his head, saying softly, "Ya know, Laura's settlin' in easier."
"Laura's a little girl ... and Billy looks out for her," Chris observed. He relaxed a little, seeing a real smile appear this time. From the moment they met, Billy Travis had taken care of Laura. Began teaching her about having a friend. With the little boy's help, Laura was starting to learn what it was like, to just be a little girl. Chris would watch Adriana as she watched Laura with a half pleased, half envious expression.
Chris knew his younger sister, and knew she didn't begrudge the little girl the new experiences. But he also knew there was a part of her which longed to have some of that back. Adriana's childhood ended on the day her mother died, on the day she found Katrien's body. Eight years old, only two years older than Laura was now. Vin said softly, "Reckon Billy's bein' real patient. Miss Laura don't know much 'bout bein' a friend ... or havin' em."
"She knows more than she realizes. Those inmates taught her a lot about having friends. About taking care of them," Chris said, looking directly at Vin. The young tracker lowered his eyes, and Chris continued, "She learned more from Adriana and Laertes ... and you."
Vin shrugged. And Chris knew enough to leave the subject alone. Instead, he repeated, "They'll be fine." Assuming, of course, someone could keep Adriana clear of Mr. Conklin. The last time she encountered the town miser, it took the combined efforts of both Mary Travis and Gloria Potter to keep Adriana from killing the man. Conklin refused to accept that Vin hadn't attacked his nephew Mahlon in the stables.
While the boy had admitted he was the one who actually stabbed Vin, while trying to help him protect Casey, Conklin refused to believe that Vin hadn't attacked the boy ... hadn't provoked the attack himself. Moreover, Conklin told anyone whom he thought would listen about how the Seven tried to frame the boy. Fortunately, most people in town either didn't believe him, or simply didn't care.
Especially when Virgil Watson spoke up in Vin's defense. In just the last few months, Four Corners had grown, and a number of newcomers had never even met Vin. Watson, long a supporter of the Seven, quickly educated people on what things were really like before the Seven came, and educated them about a slender, scruffy young buffalo hunter who had worked for him for a week before the formation of the Seven.
He told them about a determined sharpshooter who went to Nathan Jackson's aid, over Watson's own protests, after Mary Travis ended up in the dirt, and about that sharpshooter's actions in the months to come. Particularly where the gentler sex were concerned (a phrase that never failed to make Chris Larabee laugh. Whoever thought women were the weaker sex didn't know the ladies whom he knew!).
By the time Mr. Watson was finished, the newcomers found Mahlon Conklin's version of events far more believable than his uncle's. Chris said now, "And if you're worried about Nettie, don't be. You know Mahlon will look out for her and Casey until you and Buck get back." That drew another smile, as Vin hooked his thumbs through his gunbelt. While the boy's original 'sentence' was to last until Vin was on his feet again, Mahlon continued to go out to the Welles ranch each and every day to help ... often accompanied by JD.
The boy missed his mother, more than anyone realized. Although, with a miser like Conklin as an uncle and caretaker, it wasn't much of a surprise. He needed Nettie and Casey, and the aunt and niece provided him with the love and guidance he needed. The love and guidance which his uncle was incapable of giving him. Mahlon continued to be shy around Chris and Vin, though the tracker assured him there were no hard feelings. But Chris figured that would continue for a while. The very young were often very slow to forgive themselves, especially in situations like these. He could see it in Mahlon ... in JD. Hell, he could even see it in Vin, who was an adult. Hell, if he was really honest with himself ... he even saw it in the elder members of the Seven. The leader said quietly, "Wire me when you get to Eagle Bend. And watch your back. Stains ... "
"Yeah, I know, cowboy. Man's got a memory as long as a river," Vin replied of the sheriff in Eagle Bend. Chris nodded. That he did.
He put his hand on Vin's shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze, and Vin just smiled. He said softly, "I'm gonna be fine, Chris. Don't worry 'bout me none. Just look after the town, and the ladies. And I'll see ya when we git back. Deputy McCall figgered they might need the Reed boy to stay a few weeks." Chris frowned. A few weeks? To identify someone? Vin added, "Yeah, I know, but that's what the wire said. McCall gave his word."
"Just watch your back," Chris said softly, unable to lose the uneasy sense that there was far more to this prisoner transport than what any of them knew. Vin dipped his head in acknowledgment, tipping his hat at the same time, and headed for the stable. Chris glanced toward the jail. Josiah was on duty, and once Vin and Buck were saddled up and ready to go, he would bring out the prisoner. It was time to fetch Reed.
For once, they left on time. Buck had saddled his own horse and Vin's after getting supplies, while Josiah took care of Reed's horse. Reed's hands were secured to his pommel by Buck, while Josiah helped Vin into the saddle. The tracker bit back a gasp of pain. While he had ridden a few times since the stabbing, his body continued to protest when he first got into the saddle. But Vin Tanner was nothing if not stubborn.
That didn't stop him from smiling at Josiah, whose hand rested in the small of Vin's back for support. The preacher returned the smile, patted Vin's knee, and said, "Take care of yourself out there, son." Vin started to reply, but was interrupted by a gaggle of female voices. Oh lord help him. He looked at Josiah, hoping he could convince the other man to ... do something. Josiah just winked at him.
A half second later, Adriana burst into the stables, Laura at her heels, asking breathlessly, "Is it too late? Oh good, you're both here still, I was afraid we'd miss you." Now, that was a just plain dirty trick. Vin looked at Josiah reprovingly. Here he'd been afraid it was some of them gals who wouldn't leave him be, the new ones in town, and it was Drina and Laura. Josiah just grinned impishly.
Laura ignored Buck and went straight to Vin. She imperiously held out her arms to Josiah, who obligingly lifted her into the air and onto the saddle. Laura put her hands on Vin's cheeks, whispering, "You be careful, Vin. Laura doesn't want you to get hurt again." Vin responded with a one armed hug, almost melting when the little girl rested her head on his shoulder. Damn. He was gittin' soft! As Josiah smirked, Vin shot another glare at the big man. Josiah could just wait. After he and Buck got on the trail, the tracker would sic Laura on Josiah. Then they'd see who got the last laugh!
"I'll be careful, Miss Laura," Vin whispered against her hair, "an' I want ya to take care of Drina for me. Reckon ya can do that?" The dark-haired girl had moved into her brother's arms, Buck enfolding her in a tight, but tender, embrace. Hell, that was good to see. He had been worried about Drina, these last few weeks. Ever since he awakened in the ranch house, all those weeks ago, he hoped she would find her way back to them.
And ever since their return to Four Corners, Vin watched as her protective walls started to fall. As those walls crumbled, so did the anger and bitterness which seemed so alien to the girl he remembered. Vin knew all too well that people changed over time. But ... it just seemed wrong. That the girl who could always make him laugh, was now without laughter. Adriana still didn't trust Buck ... but then, neither did Vin.
But as long as she kept her brother at arms length, none of her wounds would ever heal, and that was what Vin wanted. More than anything. He hugged Laura, then returned her to Josiah as Buck released Drina. His old friend approached him, resting her palm against his thigh. She didn't say anything at first, just smiled very softly. Vin returned the smile, maintaining the eye contact. Then Drina said quietly, "Watch your back out there, Tanner. And you know I'll be there if you need me."
"I know. We'll be fine, Drina. Ya got m' word as a Tanner," Vin replied. That won him a smile, and she patted his thigh, then stepped back. A quick glance to his side told him why Micah Reed had been silent through the entire exchange. Either Buck or Josiah had gagged him. Reed's eyes told them all exactly what he thought of that, but Vin could appreciate the silence. At least, as long as it lasted.
The stable doors opened and the trio set out. Chris was on the porch of the saloon, Mary Travis at his side. Vin tipped his hat to both, and Mary waved to him with a smile, mouthing 'be careful.' Chris just nodded. Though Vin couldn't see his eyes from this distance, he knew Chris was worried about him. There was no need. While nothing had been said, Vin knew Buck would protect him with his dying breath ... if only because he realized, if anything happened to Vin while they were out there, he would be blamed.
Alright, it wasn't anything he or Buck had said ... but Ezra. The resident gambler had told JD not to worry so much. Buck wouldn't allow any harm to come to Vin while they were on the trail with the prisoner. JD in turn told Vin. It was a novel feeling for Vin, for people to actively worry about him. Sure, he had been riding with these men for a little over a year, but in the weeks since he returned from Pordios with the others, things had changed.
The others didn't fuss over him ... didn't mollycoddle him. But one of them was always nearby. Josiah told him that was because they came so close to losing him, and that was something Josiah ... as well as the others ... had no intention of allowing to happen a second time. The big man had no trouble whatsoever with telling Vin how much he meant to them all. Even if Vin was a little nervous about accepting that affection. After his ma died, Drina was the only person who showed him affection. And she was a girl, which really did make all the difference in the world.
Chris showed him affection in different ways. A hand on his shoulder, around the back of his neck. Same was true for Josiah, and JD. Ezra ... Vin smiled. Ezra showed his affection by smacking his broken arm. But that was okay. Vin had his ways of gittin' his own back. Just as he had, all those months ago ... lettin' Ezra deal with Casey on his own. As they rode out of town, a smile tugged at Vin's mouth again. Now, that had been funny.
But out of all of them, it was JD who actually fussed over Vin the most. Vin's gut instinct told him it was because of something which happened after he was stabbed. He wasn't sure what that something was, but he remembered waking up once, to find JD holding his hand between his own two, whispering what sounded like a prayer. Vin couldn't make out the words ... most of the words, at least. Just, "please God, don't let Vin die."
And during Vin's recovery, JD hadn't wanted to leave Vin's side. Oh, he still carried out his duties as the sheriff of the town, and as one of the peacekeepers, but he spend as much time with Vin as he could. Not that the tracker had a problem with that ... he was just somewhat confused by the boy's almost-desperate reaction to the stabbing. It was almost as if he was afraid that Vin would up and disappear if JD left for any length of time.
Vin had told the boys by that time that he would remain in Four Corners, as one of the peacekeepers. And JD hadn't been that ... protective, even after the reunion in Pordios, after the other six found out that Vin was still alive. Something happened while he was unconscious, something which scared JD badly. Vin was distracted from this train of thought when Buck reached over and removed the gag from Reed's mouth.
The outlaw immediately started complaining, long and loudly, about cruel and unusual punishment. Vin wasn't sure if he meant the gag, or what. Buck replied, "Naw, I imagine havin' to listen to you would be cruel and unusual punishment ... for us." Vin fought back a grin. Buck winked at him, continuing, "Now, Ezra is a windbag, sure enough, but at least he ain't annoying about it. Usually."
The smile faded from the big man's face, and he stopped his horse to lean forward and peer into Reed's face. He said very softly, "Now you listen to me, boy, and you listen good. We only got two rules ... keep your mouth shut and don't give us no trouble. That means you quit whining, you keep your smart ass remarks to yourself, and you don't try nothin' funny, 'cause neither of us are gonna tolerate it."
"And what will you do, big man?" Reed jeered, "Turn me over to a passel of bounty hunters, like you done to someone who was supposed to be your friend? Reckon it would be damn near impossible to match that?" Aw ... hell. Vin edged his horse forward, just in case he was needed to keep Buck from killing the prisoner. Especially after he saw the way Buck's eyes glazed over.
The big man answered in a lethal whisper, "No, shitface ... I'll do what I done to my sister. I'll leave ya in that fuckin' hellhole in Pordios. No, not the prison camp ... the other hellhole." Vin saw the comprehension appear on the outlaw's face. The horror.
Buck simply smiled very coldly, hissing, "That's right, asshole. That beautiful girl in the stables, the one with a smile like the sun coming up. My baby sister. And I left her in that hellhole, didn't even ask to take her body home with me when those liars told me she was dead. And she spent six months in that place because of that. Six fucking months! I did that to a girl I love with all my heart ... what do you think I'd do to you?"
The last two words weren't spoken, but breathed. Kinda like Chris, when he was seriously pissed off. And it was having about the same effect. Micah Reed was staring at Buck in horror and revulsion. Vin said softly as Buck started his horse forward once more, "Gittin' more and more like Larabee every day, Buck." That earned him a tight smile from the other man, and Vin realized this would be a very, very long ride.
They stopped for the night, halfway between Four Corners and Eagle Bend. Micah was still shocked by what Wilmington said. He heard of the insane asylum near Pordios. From what the big man said, he was told his sister was dead ... and instead of asking to take her body for burial, he left her there. Micah couldn't fathom it. Sure, he got mad at Uriah and Henry sometimes. But ... to leave kin in a place like that?
And from what he saw in town, the dark-haired girl smiling up at Tanner wasn't beautiful, but she sure as hell weren't crazy, neither. Micah would never do that to one of his brothers, no matter how angry they made him. He thought she was dead ... maybe he couldn't have taken her home with him, but he should at least have given her a proper burial. Himself, instead of lettin' strangers do it for him.
And yet, it seemed like she had forgiven him. Micah saw the way she embraced him. Then he remembered what Tanner said ... had she forgiven him? And was he still earning back her trust? After he had done that to her, how could Wilmington's sister forgive him? How could she love him? Micah was at a loss. When his parents died, he and his three brothers went to live with Uncle Hadley. And if there was one thing instilled by both Elias and Frances Reed, then by Uncle Hadley, it was family. Nothing else mattered.
If one of the boys was a lawman, they didn't kill him ... they didn't hit his town. They left him alone. They didn't give him a reason to go after them. You didn't kill a member of your family, you didn't leave them behind. This was brought home once more when Henry returned from the War back east nearly six years earlier, with his stories about what his life had been like through the war. Henry. Micah swallowed hard. Uriah was dead, and while Henry would recover, the Reed gang was history.
Once the eldest brother was released from prison, he wouldn't want to return to his old life. Henry already knew that. He told Micah as much, before the youngest brother left for Eagle Bend with the two peacekeepers. It was over. He would serve his time ... and then he would buy a farm somewhere and settle down. Maybe find a good woman, one like their ma, and get married. Maybe even a mail order bride from back East.
Which left Micah with a lot of unanswered questions for himself, about what he would do with his future. Henry could survive being respectable ... as respectable as any former outlaw could be. He could do honest work. But could Micah? Did he want honest work? Henry went along with the others, because they were family. But Uncle Hadley was dead, and now, so was Uriah. And he was so damn tired of fighting.
But that was Henry. And this was the only life Micah had only known. He was a young'un when their parents died, and they went to live with Uncle Hadley. He didn't know nothin' else, and didn't want to know nothin' else. More to the point, he didn't want to go to prison, especially not a prison camp. He heard some ugly things about prisons ... almost as ugly as insane asylums. Here again, his eyes strayed to the big man, Wilmington. What the hell kind of man would do that to his own kin?
He put his sister in an asylum, with drooling, vacant-eyed things that weren't human no more. More recently, he sold out someone who was supposedly his friend. Micah figured if he remained in Wilmington's custody, he wouldn't live to see Eagle Bend. Tanner wouldn't be able to help him, even if he wanted to ... he was several inches shorter, and not movin' that fast. No. No, if Micah wanted to see a future, then he had to get away from the two lawmen.
They would be in Eagle Bend the following day, which meant he had to make his move tonight. Maybe while the two escorts were asleep? He wasn't sure if they would take shifts in sleeping. That was always what he and his brothers did, but there were three of them, four if you counted Uncle Hadley before he died. They could each take a short shift and still get plenty of sleep. There was just Tanner and Wilmington.
He waited through dinner, noting the lines of pain around Tanner's mouth. He waited through Tanner and Wilmington discussing Wilmington's younger sister. Micah came to realize that Tanner knew the girl pretty well, 'cause he was sayin' how she was a better cook than Wilmington. Wilmington just growled that he didn't have to eat, but Micah also saw the laughter in the big cowboy's eyes. He would never figure these two out.
After dinner, Wilmington told Tanner to get some rest ... he would take first watch. Micah barely heard Tanner's reply, a mumbled, 'wake me in a few hours.' Wilmington didn't answer, and Tanner was silent after that. Micah gazed into the fire, deciding how he would go after he escaped. Back toward Four Corners wasn't an option. That would take him straight back to Larabee, who would probably flay him alive. He cared about Tanner, even if he was still pissed at Wilmington. Eagle Bend was out of the question as well. He heard stories about this Deputy McCall. From what he heard, man was as scary as Tanner. He would have to head in a different direction altogether.
It was late at night. He only planned to incapacitate the two lawmen. Not kill them. He really didn't want Chris Larabee after his blood. By the time Tanner and Wilmington got to Eagle Bend, Micah would have several hours head start, so it really didn't matter which way he went. He did notice, however, that as the hours passed, Wilmington made no attempt to wake Tanner, and Micah wondered why that was.
However, he wouldn't argue with it ... just made it that much easier for him to get the jump on him. When four hours had passed, and Wilmington still hadn't awakened Tanner, it was time. Micah lunged from his bedroll, tackling the big man. Wilmington yelped, struggling fiercely with the outlaw, struggling and cursing for all he was worth. And Micah felt like he was wrestling a grizzly.
It got worse. The struggle had awakened Tanner, and he tackled Micah, trying to pull the outlaw from Wilmington. Micah responded with an elbow to the tracker's gut. An anguished gasp exploded from Tanner, but he didn't let go. Micah found himself lying atop Tanner instead of Wilmington, but instead of trying to figure out how that happened, Micah rammed his fist into Tanner's midsection.
At the agonized cry, Micah found himself ripped away ... yes, physically ripped away, and thrown to the ground, Wilmington yelling out Tanner's first name. Micah landed with a thud, and Wilmington was on him in an instant, one hand curled in Micah's shirt as the other fist rocketed into the outlaw's face. Micah dropped back to the ground, stunned, and Wilmington secured his bonds once more.
By the time Micah could focus his eyes, Wilmington was bending over Tanner, almost cradling the tracker in his arms. Micah blinked as the big cowboy eased Tanner into a sitting position before practically carrying him back to his bedroll. Micah rolled over to watch, as Wilmington murmured, "Gotcha right where Mahlon stabbed you. Shit. Just lay still." Tanner said something which Micah couldn't make out, and Wilmington laughed aloud.
He replied, still laughing, "Well, the same to you, pard, the same to you. 'Fraid I ain't as soft as my baby sister, but that's okay. I'd still have to kill you if you ever touched her. Ain't personal ... but she's my little sister, and I done a piss poor job of takin' care of her so far." There was another too-soft reply from Tanner, and again, Wilmington roared with laughter. He said, "Thanks for the reminder!"
He patted Tanner's shoulder, as the tracker settled in for the night once more, then his eyes lit on Micah. His smile died and he made his way from Tanner's side to Micah. In a low, deadly voice, the dark-haired man said, "Listen up, jackass, and listen good. 'Cause I ain't tellin' you again. I ain't toleratin' none a' your bullshit on the trail. You do anything else between here and Eagle Bend, and I swear I'll leave you for the vultures."
Micah stared at him defiantly and Wilmington's hand snaked out, capturing Micah's jaw in a viselike grip. The man snarled, "I ain't jokin' around here. You been in town the last few days. You been listenin' to a lot. You think you're a smart fella. Then think on this."
Micah was smart ... he had been told so by his uncle countless times. Wilmington continued, "You inflicted hurt on that man once already. Just like I done. Now, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to him. And if I gotta, I'll take it out of your hide. He was stabbed in the gut only a month ago, 'cause he was tryin' to protect a sweet little girl. Now, he's healed up, but that still hurts him. You hear me?"
Micah did indeed hear. When he hit the tracker, he hit a weak spot. Something to be exploited. But Wilmington must have seen this in his eyes, for he shook Micah and growled, "Don't be messin' around, boy! I told you once. I ain't gonna let you hurt him again. So you just keep in mind what I already done to hurt two people who matter to me. Then you think about what I can do to someone who ain't worth shit."
That was something else he understood ... very clearly. He didn't know if Wilmington would follow through. But Micah wasn't sure he wanted to test his patience. Uncle Hadley always told him that only a fool tried the patience of a guilty man. He also said, quoting someone named John Dryden, to beware the fury of a patient man. Micah was on the trail with one of each. Did he want to die, in order to stay out of prison? Suddenly, things didn't seem so clear.
Buck Wilmington couldn't remember ever being so angry, as he made his way back to Vin's side. That little shit thought he was so goddamn clever, and could put one over on Buck and Vin? Hah! Vin had already told the other members of the Seven what he noticed in the jail cell. The youngest Reed thought he could exploit the divisions within the Seven. The trouble was, he still hadn't figured out that he was doing it all wrong.
But Buck wasn't about to tell him that. Instead, as he sat down beside Vin, the big man turned his attention to his friend. Geezus, he looked terrible. Not that he would tell his friend that. Buck didn't think he would take too kindly to that. But still ... Vin's face was still ashen from the pain of his stab wound hit not once but twice. He had already been hurting from being in the saddle for so long today, and from whatever was causing his nightmare the previous night. But his breathing was starting to get back to normal.
And as it did, his color started to return. Once Vin's eyes dropped shut and his body relaxed under the blanket, Buck returned his attention to Micah Reed. Little shit. Buck almost hoped he tried something stupid again. Give him an excuse to show him what happened to anyone who messed with one of Buck Wilmington's friends. Yeah, he fucked up royally, but that didn't mean he would let anyone else hurt Vin. Much less some stupid shit outlaw who thought he could use the mistakes Buck had made. That wasn't allowed.
He spent the next several hours cursing both himself and Reed. He couldn't sleep. Maybe because he knew what would hit. Toward dawn, an anguished scream tore through the darkness, and Buck jerked, startled by the sound. It took a second scream for it to register that it was Vin. By that time, Buck was on his feet, heading for the Texan, who was thrashing about in his bedroll, mumbling something Buck didn't understand ... in a language which sounded Indian.
The former sheriff dropped to his knees beside the tracker, who was striking out blindly, growling curses. Buck grabbed Vin's wrists, as the young man cried out, "Goddamn ya, Neely! Ya best pray I die here, 'cause if I don't, I'll be comin' after ya!" A strangled moan, then Vin's head reared back ... as if he had been struck. Things fit, then. He was having a nightmare ... no ... no, a memory. About the prison camp. And Daniel Neely beating him almost to death.
Buck pinned Vin's arms to his sides, wrapping his own arms around the trembling, terrified, angry tracker. He whispered, "It's okay, Vin, I've got you ... Neely can't hurt you no more. He's dead, Chris killed him, you're safe." Vin groaned softly, his body jerking as if from another blow. Then he went limp in Buck's arms, and for a single moment, Buck thought the nightmare was over.
It was only just beginning ... another scream tore from Vin's throat, the tracker screaming, "No! No, no, no!" Buck held onto his friend for dear life, as Vin once more began struggling. But he almost lost his grip at Vin's next words, as the tracker moaned, "No. No. Drina, don't. Don't. They ... they'll kill ya, Drina. Drina, no. No, no, no. No. Ya ... ya cain't let them do that. I ain't worth it. Put yer hat back on, don't let 'em see yer a girl."
The meaning of those words exploded through Buck's mind like one of Ezra's sticks of dynamite. The beating at the hands of bandits ... DeeDee removing her disguise, the one which protected her identity as a woman. Through the numbness which seemed to surround Buck's mind and soul, it registered that the tracker was shaking violently. Then Vin groaned again, "Drina ... oh God, no. No. Ya shoulda let me die, Drina." He was sobbing now, over and over, "Ya shoulda let me die."
Buck ignored the tears streaming down his own face. Both at the words, and at the pain in Vin's tone. A boy hurting in body and spirit, seeing his best friend sacrifice a part of herself to save him. DeeDee told Buck once, when he broached the subject of the bandits with her, that Vin lost consciousness when they lost interest in him and went for her. She thought the pain drove everything out of his mind at first, when he woke up ... but later, he did remember those last few minutes when she removed her hat and revealed herself as a girl.
A noise across the fire alerted him to Reed being awake, and Buck didn't need to see his face to know that the outlaw was trying to figure out a way to exploit this. The ladies' man just glared at him, allowing himself to focus all of his rage and grief and guilt into that one glare. His hatred for Browner, for Neely, for anyone else at that damn prison camp who hurt Vin, at anyone who hurt his sister. The message got through, for Reed dropped his eyes. But Buck knew the little shit would keep trying. Let him. Buck had been riding with a con artist for the last year, and Ezra could con circles around Reed.
At that same time Vin whispered hoarsely, "Somethin' wrong, Buck?" The big man looked down at his friend, still cradled protectively against his chest. There were lines of pain etched into Vin's face, and shadows haunted the blue eyes. Instead of answering him directly, Buck lowered him back to the bedroll, and did something he should have done earlier. He gently pried Vin's shirt loose from his trousers, and Vin yelped, "Buck!"
"Lie still, son, I just wanna check to see if you opened that wound back up again," Buck counseled. He should have thought about that sooner ... but a quick inspection told him that the flesh was bruised only. Vin tucked his shirt back in, his face bright red. Remembering something he heard his 'niece' Laura say once, Buck smirked and said, "You're right pretty, Vin, but you really ain't my type."
"I done tol' ya once before, Buck ... ya ain't old enough to be my pa, so don't be callin' me 'son.' I coulda told ya, it ain't open," Vin muttered under his breath. He lay back, grimacing, and Buck guessed that between the blows earlier, and the nightmare, his gut was hurting him again. Buck put his hand on Vin's shoulder, not knowing what else to do, and feeling more than a little guilty. So he was surprised when Vin said softly, "Sorry."
Buck looked at Vin, asking, "What the hell are you sorry for? You didn't do a damn thing wrong." He paused, then added with a half smile, "Sides, I seem to recall you bein' half dead on your feet when you told me not to call you 'son' the first time." Buck was pleased to see an answering smile lighten Vin's face. That ... hell, that was after Reverend Moseley admitted to killing his daughter Claire.
And when Buck started looking past his own jealousy to the truth. Started looking at Vin Tanner, the man. Not just the young upstart who had taken his place in Chris Larabee's life. The first of many walls had fallen, as Buck sat beside the recovering Vin. But it wasn't until the Farrells died that Buck realized Vin had snuck passed all of his defenses, and found a place in Buck's heart.
"Was apologizin' in case I 'tracted any attention to us," came the soft reply. Buck frowned, then remembered that with the price on his head, Vin couldn't afford any attention. He just squeezed the young man's shoulder again, and Vin sighed very deeply, adding, "Reckon it's time we was on our way." Buck understood this was Vin's way of dealing with the nightmares. Chris did the exact same thing.
Buck didn't comment on Vin's choice, instead, he offered the tracker his hand and said, "Well, then, if you'll get breakfast ready, I'll get Reed moving." Vin accepted the help up, but Buck didn't miss the spasm of pain on the young man's face. He vowed to keep an eye on the tracker ... when he wasn't watching Reed. The outlaw was watching him just as carefully, and Buck smiled coldly. Yep, I know exactly what you're thinkin,' Buck warned the man silently, and if you think I'm gonna let you get away with it, you're outta your tree!
"He ain't in no shape to be out on the trail ... you know it, and I know it," Reed growled. Buck met his gaze head-on, and Reed continued, "He dies, and Larabee's gonna have your head."
The big man would have laughed, but he didn't want to draw Vin's attention. Oh, now there was an obvious statement! Buck had known Chris Larabee for more than twelve years, and to say the blond man would have his head if Vin died was probably the most obvious thing anyone could have said. Buck knew that. But he knew something which this smart guy didn't. Something which Buck would happily share with him.
The ladies' man leaned in, dropping his voice, and answered, "Yeah, he would. But here's somethin' for you to chew on. Vin was alone for a number of years. No one to take care of him when he was hurt. That boy knows his limits, and he knows when he can go on." Buck stared at Reed steadily, then added, "And if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your mouth shut about him. No matter where you are."
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