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.
He had covered Jared McCall's body with a blanket, for the benefit of the child riding behind him as well as the benefit of the late deputy. There were times when Orrin Travis hated being right. This was definitely one of them. They had been riding for about three hours ... not hard riding. For the horse, at least, but Orrin wasn't a young man any longer. He spotted a small grouping of boulders, a short distance away, where they could rest for an hour or so.
He still hadn't decided what to do about Micah Reed ... the little bastard was making him regret taking him out of town, especially after he started harassing Miranda about her cousin's death. At that point, Orrin stopped all three horses, dismounted, then gagged the youngest Reed brother. The judge was tempted to leave the little bastard on his horse once they stopped to rest. He didn't want to listen to the boy's mouth, and he didn't want Miranda to have to listen to him, either. She didn't need any of his crap.
As they reached the boulders, Orrin dismounted first, then helped Miranda Cole down from the horse. He cupped her heart-shaped face in his hands, examining her. She looked like she had gone into shock ... shut down to protect herself. Orrin couldn't blame her. The poor child had been through hell in the last few days ... first being abducted by Avery Wilmington, then her escape and flight back to Eagle Bend, and culminating in seeing her cousin killed right in front of her. The shutting down had to happen sooner or later. He led her to one of the boulders, gently settling her on the stone, and said, "Wait here, Miranda, I need to see to Mr. Reed."
Miranda didn't even react, and the heavy-hearted judge walked back over to the boy. Reed slipped from the horse docilely and didn't speak even when Orrin removed the gag. Still, Orrin gave the boy a hard stare before returning his attention to the shattered young girl sitting on the boulder, a warning to keep his mouth shut.
The judge removed his handkerchief from his pocket and said softly, "We'll rest here for a while. You know, you're a very brave girl." For the first time since they left town, Miranda's facial expression changed and her blue-gray eyes shifted to him, her brows drawing down as if questioning his statement. Orrin wet his handkerchief with water from his canteen and started to clean the dirt and tearstains from her face.
As he did, he went on, "Yes, you're a very brave girl. No wonder your father felt safe in sending you out here. He knew that you were strong and brave. My daughter ... she's actually my daughter-in-law, but I think of her as my daughter ... she's strong and brave, too. Too brave, sometimes ... but this land will do that to you. I look at you, Miranda, and I see Mary when she was fourteen. I watched her grow up, you know. Watched a shy, tiny four year old girl become a little tomboy, trying outrageous things to make her father love her ... then a beautiful young lady."
He inspected his work and satisfied that her face was clean and that her attention was focused on him, Orrin folded his handkerchief and put it away. Then he handed her the canteen. She took a drink, rinsing her mouth of the trail dust, and Orrin continued, "I'd never tell her father this, but I always preferred the tomboy to the lady. I sometimes think that's what allowed Mary to survive out here ... those tomboy years. I taught her to shoot when Stephen told me that he and Mary were moving out here."
Orrin looked back at Miranda, seeing a minute relaxing in the tense young body. He continued, "She was so scared. She thought she might be pregnant, and was afraid to ask Evie. She grew up without a mother, you see. And she was scared. She didn't know what to do. I told her that she would know what to do when the time came. I warned her that she would make mistakes, but she shouldn't hate herself. Parents make mistakes, because they're only human."
"Papa always said Mama was the strongest person he knew. He said she gave all her strength to him, so she didn't have enough left over when I was born. Papa said I shouldn't ever think that I killed Mama, no matter what I heard, because if he had been a better husband, Mama wouldn't have died," Miranda said softly. She swallowed hard, looked over at the blanketed body of her cousin, then added, "He liked the way I was. Said I would be even stronger than Mama was. Didn't try to make me into something I wasn't."
"Sounds like your father's a very smart man. I'm telling you about Mary, 'Randa, because she may make mistakes when she's taking care of you. She has a little boy, but no daughters. So be patient with her ... and while she's taking care of you, remember that you can take care of her, too," Orrin replied. Miranda's face lit up and Orrin smiled to himself. She liked taking care of people. It made her feel grown up.
Orrin continued, "You won't be the only one taking care of Mary. She has a friend, Adriana. This is very important, Miranda. Adriana is that man's daughter. And he hurt her very, very badly, so you may need to take care of her as well." Miranda's eyes darkened when he mentioned Avery Wilmington. He hadn't spoken the name of the disgraced judge, but it wasn't necessary. Miranda knew whom Orrin meant.
"Him!" she spat, "he told me about her! He said that she made a fool out of him, when she was only a little older than I was. He said she didn't know her proper place as a woman. Said she was supposed to stay in Chihuahua and let them ... let them ... let them hump her to death. She wasn't supposed to escape. But she did, and Mr. Tanner helped her. He said bad things happen to men who cross him, who help his women. He won't hurt Mr. Tanner, will he?"
"We won't allow him to hurt anyone else, Miranda. Tell me more about Judge Wilmington. Did he tell you anything else? Anything that made sense?" Orrin asked, qualifying the question. He didn't doubt that the man said a lot ... whether he was coherent or not was another matter. For a brief, grim moment, Orrin wished Nathan Jackson had heard the ramblings which Orrin got from a thirdhand account of Avery Wilmington, just to contrast it to the peyote-induced hallucinations which had tormented Vin Tanner before the healer and Buck turned the young man over to the bounty hunters.
"He's angry, Judge Travis. He hates women ... all women, even his mama. He was so mad at her. He said that his father died saving her, and that his mother was in trouble 'cause she was tryin' to save the judge. I mean, when the judge was a little boy. He said that his father should have just let her die, instead of dying with her," Miranda reported. Orrin thought about what he just heard. True enough, he heard this from McCall, but this was different.
"Did he say how his parents died?" Orrin asked after a moment. In the 1870's, psychology was a new science, but Orrin knew nothing of this new frontier. He did, however, know a few things about people, and about the way guilt affected people. From what he was hearing, it sounded as if Avery Wilmington had blamed himself for his mother's death, and had shifted the blame to her for being too weak to live.
"It happened when he was a little boy. They were on a river, and their boat started to sink. His mama got him to his papa, but the current swept her away. His father made him stay on the rock, and went after his mother, but they both drowned," Miranda explained. Orrin frowned. How had she figured that out? Miranda added, "He only got ... crazy ... when he started talking to me. He always made sense when he talked to one of the his men."
Orrin nodded absently, his mind racing ahead. Miranda asked hesitantly, "Judge Travis? Are Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Tanner gonna be okay?" Orrin looked back again and nodded, even though he had no idea whether they were all right or not. From Orrin's vantage point, it looked like Vin might have been hit during the gunfight, but the tracker seemed fine when they rode out of town. Miranda sighed, echoing Orrin's own thoughts, "I hope so."
And then Reed just had to go and spoil it all, saying, "Hell, Tanner's too weak to take care of hisself ... bet he's gotten himself and Wilmington killed by now. What the hell Larabee was thinkin,' sendin' out Tanner, I don't know. Guess they ain't so magnificent, after all. Tanner is weak, Wilmington is a traitor, Larabee's a fool, and ... " Reed never had a chance to finish his statement, because Miranda launched herself from the rock and dove for the outlaw. The youngest Reed brother squeaked in surprise, but he had no way of defending himself against the enraged young girl.
Before Orrin quite knew what was happening (not that he was of a mind to stop her), the girl was sitting on Reed, pounding his head into the dirt and screaming, "You take that back, you big bully! My cousin said Mr. Tanner is the strongest man he knows ... that he's smart and good and strong. He said that Mr. Tanner takes better care of people than anyone else Jared knows, even when he's hurt, and Jared was right. Mr. Tanner's better than you could ever be, 'cause he takes care of people, instead of hurting them! You're jealous, because he's better than you, and smarter! You just like to hurt people!"
"Git her off me ... ouch! Git her off me!" Reed wailed and Orrin finally grabbed Miranda by the waist, physically lifting her off the outlaw. He was now staring at the girl with wide, horrified eyes, and Reed blurted out, "Damn girl belongs in a loony bin, just like Wilmington done to his sister! You best keep her away from me, her and that cousin of hers! Stupid fool got his head blowed off, and for what?"
Miranda disregarded the insult to herself and Orrin felt her gathering her strength for another lunge at Reed, but he held tightly. The judge suddenly had a greater appreciation for Buck Wilmington when he had to restrain Mary from beating the hell out of one of the outlaws who had been menacing Billy. True enough, Miranda was just a child herself, rather than a grown woman ... but even so, she was a strong girl. Made even stronger by the fact that she was severely pissed off at Reed.
"Mr. Reed, I would suggest you shut your mouth before I shut it for you! This girl saw her cousin murdered right in front of her very eyes, just like my grandson saw his father murdered, the man you just maligned ... the man who maligned right along with two of Miranda's heroes. Two of my men," Orrin ordered. Two of my sons. But that, he didn't say, because Reed was now getting the picture. At least, Orrin hoped he was.
Orrin didn't know whether he was or not, but he did slump back against his own boulder, eyeing Miranda warily. Orrin made a mental note to ask Buck if the outlaw whom Mary had beaten reacted the same way. He looked at the young girl at his side, saying, "You know something, you just reminded me of my daughter again." Miranda was successfully distracted from glaring at Reed, and Orrin wondered if he should try to keep Miranda away from Chris.
Not because he feared the leader of the Seven would ever hurt this girl, but because Miranda already had a killer glare and she didn't need any help from Chris Larabee to perfect it. Orrin continued, "My grandson Billy was five years old when his father, my son Stephen, was killed ... and he saw it. When he was six, the men who killed Stephen tried to silence him, first by threatening his mother, then by threatening Billy himself."
A now-familiar look appeared in Miranda's blue-gray eyes, one which Orrin had come to recognize as a warning of danger, but she was silent as Orrin continued, "Except, when the outlaws stopped the coach supposedly carrying Billy and Mary, they only found Mary ... along with four members of the Seven. Mr. Tanner, Mr. Wilmington, Mr. Standish, and Sheriff Dunne. Mary lunged out of the coach, just as you just did, and knocked one of the outlaws to the ground ... then started beating on him."
Miranda clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes going very, very wide, and Orrin continued with a chuckle, "Mr. Wilmington later told me that this big, bad outlaw was pleading with him to get her off him. Her father would have been furious with her ... but I was rather proud of her when Mr. Wilmington told me about what happened. Billy moved back to live with Mary, not long after that."
Miranda didn't seem fazed at all ... but she wouldn't. She asked, "Would Mary do that for anybody she liked or loved?" Orrin nodded, remembering how Mary had spoken up for Vin Tanner when the false Marshals came to town, for Josiah Sanchez when he was accused of murder. She had spoken up for the Seven time after time. Miranda asked shyly, "Would she do that for me, too?"
"She certainly would. Now, I'm not telling you that she's perfect. But her friend Adriana told me something very important once. Mary tries. She fails sometimes, falls very short some times, and she makes mistakes. Sometime horrible mistakes. But she learns from them, and she goes on. She never makes the same mistake twice. That's why I'm proud of her. Not just because she's strong and brave, but because she tries. I've never known Mary to give up, even when Evie and I thought she should," Orrin replied.
Miranda ducked her head, replying, "My papa always said that, too. He says that I'm too determined sometimes, but he doesn't want me to be any other way, 'cause then I'd be too weak to survive. He says he doesn't want me to be like other women. Why would I want to be like anyone else, I dunno, but he taught me to ride and shoot, good as any man. He says he would rather I could take care of myself, rather than me marry a bad man."
It took Orrin a minute to find his way through that minefield of words, then understood what Miranda was saying. As a judge, Francis Cole had seen the darkest side of people, and rather than entrust the safety of his daughter to any man, he had taken it upon himself to teach her to take care of herself. She, like Adriana Wilmington, would probably never marry men of society, if they married at all.
Miranda would never be comfortable in high society ... even at fourteen, she was too stubborn, too determined, too outspoken. And high society decreed too many masks. No, Miranda would never be happy there, and Francis Cole wasn't a man who believed just any man was good enough for his daughter. That, Orrin sensed, was the other reason he had sent her to her cousin. Not just to protect her from Avery Wilmington, but to make sure she was where she belonged. And back east was not where she belonged.
In that moment, Orrin understood something else. Miranda would probably never marry. Not because she couldn't find a suitable husband, by her terms or her father's, but because he could already see the streak of independence which would make it difficult on a man to take care of her. Instead of simply awaiting rescue, Miranda freed herself and rode back to town, to the safety of her cousin. It would be very difficult for Miranda to find a man who had the strength to love her. She would never stand idly by and wait for a man to take care of her, not if she could do it herself. And many men judged themselves by very different standards.
Well, that was the future, and while things looked one way now, Orrin understood that the future was yet to be written. Times changed ... times were changing so fast now, it wouldn't surprise him if women like his daughter in law, like Adriana Wilmington, and like Miranda would be needed in the years to come. Orrin patted Miranda's knee and said, "Well, let's get back to town. Give your cousin the burial he deserves." Miranda nodded, her face sad, but she rose to her feet, then helped Orrin to secure their prisoner once more.
Orrin Travis and Miranda Cole weren't the only ones concerned about the two peacekeepers. Chris Larabee's apprehension about the two men had begun in the late afternoon the previous day ... right around the time Vin and Buck were due to get into Eagle Bend. That apprehension had only grown through the night and into the morning. He knew they got into town all right ... he had the telegraph from Travis confirming that. But that raised a few other worries. Like, what the hell was the judge even doing in Eagle Bend? He was supposed to be ... well ... somewhere else.
Chris didn't mention this to Mary. He had learned that she and Adriana were writing a letter to Serena, the madam of the brothel where Adriana and Buck grew up. Knowing Mary, it was probably another attempt to atone for her treatment of Lydia. According to Billy, who was playing with Laura in the church, his mother and the newcomer came up with a way to tell the girls that Adriana was safe, without tipping off anyone to where she was. Chris didn't know what that way was, but he trusted Adriana to take precautions. She wasn't ready to face her sire yet, and she sure as hell wasn't about to risk anyone else's life.
And he knew how much Mary worried about Orrin. Chris realized for the first time that he knew little of Mary's life before her marriage to Stephen Travis when she was twenty years old. Oh, he had met Gerard Whitman, but he actually knew little about her parents, if she had any brothers or sisters. You don't know nothin' about me, he had told her at their first official meeting, and it was true at the time. But for the first time, he realized it was just as true that he didn't know much about her.
Chris didn't like that feeling. A lack of knowledge ... well, while in this case, it probably wouldn't get him killed, but it did make him uncomfortable. Something which he didn't know equaled a vulnerability, a way he couldn't protect himself or those around him. And again, it probably wasn't a situation which would get him killed, but he still didn't like it. The way Mary often acted, you would have thought Orrin was her father, rather than her father-in-law. True enough, he only had the example of his own father-in-law ... but it seemed strange, the way Mary never mentioned her father. Or, if she did, it wasn't to him.
Forcing that issue from his mind, Chris thought again about Buck and Vin. There was no reason in the world for him to feel like something was wrong. They weren't overdue, they were where they were supposed to be, and everything was fine. So why did he have that niggling feeling in his gut? The same one he got when ... when they almost lost Vin? He could ride to Eagle Bend. It wasn't that far.
Josiah, JD, and Ezra were here to watch the town. He could ride there ... and what? Check up on a pair of grown men? This wasn't just about whether or not he could trust Buck ... his trust in Vin would also be questioned. He had no reason to think something was wrong, but the last time he ignored this wrongness, Vin almost died. Was he really willing to take that chance with his best friend's life?
Chris looked up at the sky. As if echoing his thoughts, the heavens opened up and rain began plunking down. Chris groaned and got off the street, heading into the Clarion. He heard a giggle in the room beside the printing press, and Adriana protest, "I'm serious! Auntie Rena always liked younger men, and that's exactly what she said about Chris! If you don't believe me, I'll put it in there, and you'll see when she answers."
"Oh, I'm not doubting you ... it's just ... oh my. Has anyone ever told you that you're dangerous?" Chris heard Mary ask, still laughing. There was a brief silence, then Mary squealed, "Adriana! Don't write that. Scratch that out! Scratch that out ... give me that pen!" Another squeal, this time of laughter. They were both laughing. Mary was laughing so hard, Chris couldn't hear what she said next. But he smiled, because they were good for each other. Adriana could make Mary laugh, and Mary ... Mary seemed to give Adriana some sort of peace. He hadn't figured it out yet, but he wasn't sure he wanted to understand.
"Mary! That's shocking! You're a lady, you aren't supposed to know things like that! At least, you're not supposed to admit you know things like that," Adriana laughed. Chris heard her trying to get herself under control, and he felt his smile broaden. Yes, they really were good for each other, these two very different women. His surrogate sister said next, "I can't believe you said that. I am so glad it was to me, and not someone else. Someone would say you've been spending entirely too much time with the Seven."
"Oh, people say that anyhow. I wish I knew how you do it. Say 'I don't care about my reputation, this is who I am.' I never learned how to do that. I sometimes feel like I'm caught between two worlds, and that makes me so angry. It makes me feel like my father was right about me. That I am weak and indecisive," Mary sighed. Chris felt his blood run cold and he started to back away, not wanting to hear whatever came next. However, he quickly realized it was too late for that.
"I won't waste my breath on telling you what I think of your father. But I will tell you this, Mary. You feel like you're caught between two worlds, because you are. I should know, that's how I've spent most of my life. You're walking a tightrope in the town, and don't think I haven't noticed. You're halfway between the respectable people," Adriana said, her voice laced with contempt for those so-called 'respectable' people, "and between the Seven."
"I never really thought of it that way. I'm starting to see, though, that I'm still trying to win my father's approval by being the son he wanted. He never wanted any daughters, he just agreed to have another child to placate my mother. When Stephen died, I found more comfort in Orrin and Evie than I did in my own father," Mary admitted. Her next words shocked Chris to his very core, as she added, "He told me I should stay here. That I owed it to Stephen to make his dream come true."
That wasn't what she had told him, during the James situation, and Adriana said as much. How she knew that, Chris didn't know, but it wasn't important. Not right now, at least. Mary laughed harshly, replying, "I lied. That wasn't Mary Travis talking, that was Edward Douglas. I let my father decide what I was gonna do. And I didn't even have the guts to acknowledge what a coward I was being. No, I was a good little girl, blindly doing whatever Daddy told me to do, never mind it was the wrong thing to do."
The bitterness in her voice hurt Chris to hear. Mary continued, "Chris was right. This was no place for a woman." There was a long silence in the other room. And while he knew, he knew he should leave now, Chris found he couldn't move from the spot where he had seemed to take root. Only a few moments earlier, he had been thinking how little he knew about this woman ... and now, he was finding out too much.
"You did what you thought was right at the time. Maybe it was the wrong decision, but if it was a mistake, you learned from it. Mary ... you're only a human being. Just like me. We make mistakes, we're not perfect, we're not angels. Things worked out, Billy is home where he belongs and that's the important thing. And every day, I see more of the real Mary Travis shining through. I know one other thing. I know you would find a way to watch my back, no matter where I was," Adriana finally said.
What was that supposed to mean? But Chris realized he knew the answer, even before Adriana continued, "I'm not saying I blame them for not watching my back ... well, not much. I knew, when I heard that Chris had lost his family the way he had, that he would have been about as much use to me as a map would be to a blind person. I know Chris. But Buck ... never mind. I've talked about this too much already, and talkin' about it doesn't make it go away. I just have to accept it and go on." Chris struck the side of his thigh angrily. Goddammit, there was no reason she should accept it! And until now, he had believed she had moved forward.
Mary asked quietly, though not too quietly for the man in the next room to hear what she had to say, "Do you think you'll ever forgive either of them for leaving you there? I don't know what I could have done differently from them. I know you were imprisoned there illegally ... I probably would have brought Orrin with me."
"I think I already have, Mary. It just ... it still hurts. Knowing that the dead were more important than the living to Chris. Did you know, Mary, that my brother told me that he left my body there, because he loved me too much to face my death. Huh. Let me get this straight. He loved me too much to give me a proper burial, but he would have never left Sarah Larabee there, alive or dead. Can you explain that to me?" Adriana asked bitterly.
Chris looked toward the door, startled by the venom in Adriana's voice when she spoke of his wife. What the hell was that about? Mary was silent a moment, then suggested, "Maybe because Buck knew what Chris would have done to him, if Sarah died there and Buck just left her body? And that was gone, when they left you, because Chris was drowning in a bottle of whatever he was drinking at the time?"
There was another silence, then Adriana murmured, "That could be. I don't like feeling this way, Mary. I don't like hating anyone. It's so tiring. But ... they would have gotten her out, and they left me there. How ... how am I supposed to accept that? Did I deserve to be left? If I did something, something to them, a reason for why they left me, then why haven't they told me?" Her voice cracked, and Chris could take no more.
In three quick strides, he left the printing room and was in the room where the two young women had been working on the letter to Serena. His sudden appearance startled the pair, and Mary moved instinctively in front of Adriana, a protective gesture that wasn't lost on Chris. Nor did he miss the wariness in Mary's green eyes, or the way she continued to stand in front of Adriana protectively. But he said only, "Little princess ... I think it's time we talked."
Adriana rose to her feet behind Mary, answering quietly, "No, I don't believe there's anything more we need to say. We've said it all, Chris. And like Vin said, you don't say more than three words a day." Chris wasn't sure where she heard that, probably from JD, but it didn't matter right now. Adriana moved silently around until she was at Mary's side and told the editor quietly, "We'll finish that letter later, Mary."
Mary nodded, but Chris intercepted his little sister before she got too far. He said in a quiet voice, "No, little princess. I thought we took care of this months ago, but you've been holding out on me. I thought you understood that you did nothing wrong ... that you didn't deserve what we did to you. What's it gonna take before you believe me?" Adriana tipped her head back to look at him thoughtfully.
Mary said nothing ... her eyes shifted from Chris to Adriana, then back again. Then the dark-haired woman replied, "Time, Christopher. You cannot change your thinking overnight. Laertes and Aurora saved my life, after I escaped, and it took me a long time to stop cringing every time I saw a person of color. I'm still not comfortable around people of color at first, thanks to Gideon."
There was pure hatred in her voice when she spoke of the man who had taken her to Mexico at the orders of her father, and Chris realized for the first time that she had never told him what happened to her, on the way to Mexico He realized something else. She might never tell him about what was done to her, and worse yet, Chris wasn't sure he wanted to know.
There was a pause, then Adriana admitted, "I need time, too, to understand. Why Bucklin left my supposedly dead body, instead of burying me in a pretty spot. When he would have brought your wife's body home without a thought? Did she deserve a proper burial more than I did?" This time, there was a definite bite in her voice, though she was struggling to control it.
And there was a part of Chris which shouted its rage at her obvious disdain for Sarah. But this was his little sister, and she was right. Buck had left her, when he would have brought Sarah home. Chris himself had left her, choosing the dead over the living. He fought to ignore that part of him which demanded release for denigrating his beloved wife. He fought hard, because he saw none of the madness that transformed Ella Gaines into a monster in the eyes of his sister.
No, he saw only hurt and betrayal. Real, not imagined. Chris said softly, focusing on that betrayal, "No, little princess. I can't answer for Buck. I can't even answer for myself. I can't give you the answers you need. I can't even ask you to believe that I won't let you down a second time. If it's time you want, then you have it. All the time you need. But you have to let me help you."
Her head tilted to one side as she considered his words, then she asked quietly, "Why should I trust you? You were married to the perfect woman after all, why should I trust you to listen to what I have to say? Why should I trust you to understand? Why should I trust you not to break Mary's heart, when she's as imperfect as I am, and Sarah was too good for any man, living or dead?"
What the hell? Chris found his anger rising once more, at the bitterness in Adriana's voice. He was somewhat aware of Mary stepping closer to Adriana protectively, and his sister continued, "I can't even trust you to listen to me. I can't trust you to understand that not everyone thought your Sarah was the most wonderful woman in the world. I can't trust you to accept that she wasn't perfect. So why should I trust you with my imperfections?"
It was the last question which broke through to Chris. In it, he heard echoes of himself, only a few months earlier. If he was perfect, he wouldn't be one of us. He had said that to JD, about JD. And it was true. Chris himself wasn't perfect ... he had that driven home time after time through the years. So why should I trust you with my imperfections?
With the memories of Mexico, with the darkness which was the insane asylum's legacy. With whatever happened on the way to Mexico, with the memory of the night her father 'lost' her in a poker game. Adriana was a girl who had been used and then thrown away, like garbage. Something he couldn't allow himself to forget.
Why should I trust you with my imperfections? How would he have felt if someone constantly praised one of the others as being perfect? When he himself was still trying to put himself back together after being shattered into a thousand pieces? And that was exactly what his little sister was trying to do. Laertes had provided for her a sanctuary where she could begin her healing, but that healing was still going on.
And the rage died. He had only to look at things through Adriana's eyes, once he got past his rage that she didn't love Sarah as he had. Of course she didn't ... she never met Sarah. And, there was something else. Chris put his hands on her shoulders, whispering, "Because I'm not perfect, little princess ... and neither was Sarah. Do you really think there's anything you can do, anything you're capable of doing, that would make me stop loving you?"
"I don't know, Chris," came the barely audible voice, "I just knew that you think she was perfect." Chris sighed, wondering where she had heard that. Adriana raised her eyes to look at him, adding, "I've heard Buck talk about her. Sweet Sarah. Beautiful and kind, just this side of being a saint. Too good for any man, alive or dead. And then there's me. A whore and a whore's daughter."
Before he knew what he was doing, Chris had a tight grip on Adriana's shoulders, snarling, "Don't you ever say that about yourself again, understand? You're no whore!" Her eyes widened, and Chris realized he had done something he had never done before ... he had frightened her. In the years he had known her before her disappearance, Chris had never seen fear in her eyes when she looked at him. Until now.
Chris released her shoulders to cup her face, repeating much more softly, "You're not a whore, Adriana. You never have been, you never will be. Do you understand me? You were fighting for your life ... literally. You ain't no whore." This was almost whispered, his green eyes boring into her hazel eyes. The fear gave way to a much more comfortable emotion ... more comfortable to Chris, at least.
"Will you say that, Chris, when I tell you what happened? Sarah was good and pure, but I'm not. I'm dirty. I was dirty even before those bastards attacked Vin," Adriana asked hoarsely. Chris began to realize, began to see the outlines then of what he was facing. She truly believed what she was saying. And Chris had no idea how to combat that. What could he possibly say to counteract that certainty?
He had no words, so Chris Larabee did what he always did when words failed. He relied on action. This time, it was in the form of putting his arms around his sister and drawing her against his body. And Mary put her hand on the back of Adriana's neck, whispering, "You're not dirty. You're not unclean. That's what the men who did that to you are. Your blood is on their hands, not the other way around."
"I have blood on my hands, too. The men who tried to kill Vin, and would have killed me. So many others," came the muffled answer. Chris and Mary exchanged a look, and Chris sat down in the chair Mary just vacated, pulling Adriana into his lap.
Mary just rested her hand on the brunette's shoulder, never taking that contact away. Chris answered softly, "How many men did you kill, little princess, who weren't threatening you, or someone who was under your protection? How many innocents did you kill?" He was willing to stake his life on her answer, that she had only killed when she was threatened. It was a matter of faith for the leader of the Seven.
There was a long silence, then, "It wasn't just that they were threatening me. Or someone under my protection. But the way I did it. No mercy. No compassion. Just ... blind rage." She hadn't answered the question ... or, she had, albeit indirectly. She had never killed someone who wasn't a threat to her or one of hers, but Chris was now understanding something else. It wasn't just that she had killed ... it was what she could do. What she was capable of doing.
"How many did you kill, little princess, who didn't threaten you or someone you were protecting?" Chris repeated. Another long silence, and Chris continued, "That's what I thought. You didn't kill anyone who wouldn't have killed you first. Did you enjoy it?" Stillness, this time, then Adriana shook her head on his shoulder. Chris murmured, "I knew it. Little princess, I've seen a lot of things in my life. And I'll be the first to admit, you're one of them ladies who scare me, especially when you're angry and especially now that you've joined forces with Mary." That earned him a giggle from Adriana and a grin from Mary.
Chris continued, "But I can tell you this right now. Nothing you have done, or are capable of doing, can shock me. I've seen it, little princess. I've seen it all. And nothing, nothing can make me stop loving you. And if you need time to understand that, you got it. But I will make you understand that you're not to blame for what Buck and I did. That you didn't deserve to be left, because you're somehow impure."
Adriana raised her eyes, whispering, "Even if I shot someone in the back?" His own words of a year earlier echoed in his ears, 'You don't shoot nobody in the back.' He had said that to JD, when they first met. And he knew Vin had shot people in the back. So, where was the difference? The action was the same, but there was a difference. The question was, where did he draw that line? Vin teased him about not sayin' more than three words a day, but he desperately needed those words right now.
So he repeated what he had already said, "You done what you had to, Adriana. When you shot that man in the back, was it to impress someone else? Or to save someone?" Her expression told him what he needed to know, and Chris continued, "I told you ... there ain't nothin' you can do that will shock me, or make me stop lovin' you, Adriana Kathleen. I hate that you were at that asylum ... I hate what we done to you. But ... if you hadn't been there, you couldn't have saved Vin. And I will always be grateful for that gift of fate."
Their sanctuary was called San Patricio, after the Irish unit who had joined the side of the Mexicans during the war, more than twenty years earlier. Rachel Pope was quite amused to learn that Vin was named after one of those men, but she said nothing against Julia Tanner or the man who had saved her life. Instead, she directed the men to carry the wounded tracker into what she called the guestroom, then introduced Buck to her husband, Isaac.
The cowboy from Four Corners was distracted, however, for which Rachel Pope was grateful. He checked on his now-unconscious friend once more, his eyes filled with worry, before heading to the bath house.
Once he was safely out of the house, Rachel opened the trap door and the resident doctor emerged. Without a word, the pair approached the room where Vin Tanner now lay. Rachel closed the door behind her, allowing the man to work in silence. She had awakened Tanner just long enough to pour a draught down his throat, one which would make him sleep for several hours. Long enough for the bullet to be removed.
With Vin Tanner in good hands, Rachel sighed and headed out to the bath house to talk to Buck Wilmington. She had to distract him for a while, at least until the doctor was finished removing the bullet and making sure Tanner would make a full recovery. Wilmington was trying desperately to make things right with the young tracker, after his own betrayal, and Rachel had feared he would only get in the way.
Besides, she would tell him the rest of the story ... what she could, at least. She found him relaxing in a tub and it was testament to just how worried he was for his friend that Buck made only the smallest attempt at flirting with her. She had spoken with Josiah Sanchez during his pilgrimages to Vista City, and she knew something of all of the Seven. She knew about how they had come to this point, with the divisions remaining. She knew how it happened ... in fact, it was a safe bet to say she knew more about the 'why' than any of them.
But it wasn't her place to tell why these things were happening ... she could only protect them while they were in her home. And tell Buck Wilmington how she knew to come out and meet them. She did so now, explaining, "As I told you, Josiah Sanchez has helped us in the past, and Sheriff Staines is no friend of ours. Nor is Avery Wilmington. Last night, Deputy Jared McCall sent us a telegraph, telling us that you two were in Eagle Bend, that the judge was expected in the town ... and there might be trouble."
The man's face darkened and he said softly, "Jared is dead ... my old man's goons did that. Killed him right in front of his little cousin, Miranda ... but she would have been dead, too. Would have died, but she escaped from the old man." Escaped? Rachel felt a familiar rage expanding within her chest, but she refused to vent it. No, that would only make her guest suspicious. Had yet another child made a fool out of that bastard?
Her guest was already suspicious, adding, "And just what do you know about my sister? You mentioned her earlier." Damn. She would have to be more careful, then. They were already walking a tightrope, it wouldn't do for her to fall off because she became careless. Yes, she knew of Avery Wilmington's daughter. Rachel had sworn that she would allow no further harm to come to that girl, and now another child was being menaced.
Rachel answered, "That's a long story. Suffice it to say, I know of your sister. I know he put her through hell, just as he put so many other women through hell. I know more than anyone woman should." Right. And say no more. She wound one finger in her long red hair, looking away from her houseguest. Thus, she didn't see the awareness dawning in the dark blue eyes. Didn't realize it was already too late. So much time had passed since her old life, since her arrival in the West and the beginning of her new life. Why should anyone from her old hometown remember her? Much less someone whom she had hurt, though inadvertently.
"Rachel Pope ain't your real name, is it?" he asked very softly, and Rachel turned back to look at him, alarmed. Buck Wilmington nodded, a faint smile crossing his lips as he continued, "Naw ... naw, your name is Rachael Welliver Wilmington. You was married to the old man. You warned them whenever he came to the cathouse, wanting DeeDee. And then you left him, when you found out what he done."
Rachel left her place. Damn! How had he realized! He hadn't seen her in twenty years! Buck continued, "I shoulda seen it before ... last time I saw ya, you were 'bout the same age my baby sister is now." Rachael Welliver smiled bitterly. Yes, that was right. Actually, she was twenty-three the last time he saw her, twenty years earlier. Eighteen when she married, eighteen when the child who should have been her daughter was born.
"You weren't supposed to figure it out at all. I changed my name when I came West. The only person who knows I'm out here is my father. That's the way I want it, too. That's why I never contacted you, even though I knew you were here. I knew your poor sister was here, too. I even knew that she had been consigned to that hell on earth, but I couldn't get her released into my custody," Rachael answered.
She shook her head, saying softly, "You know, you should tell your sister that if you hadn't believed those people, and tried to take her body for burial, they had orders to shoot you." She could tell from Buck's expression that it made no difference ... that he would have willingly died for his sister. Rachael continued, "You should tell her that, too. That you would die for her. It will make a difference."
"Maybe ... but it don't make a difference to me. I made her a promise ... I broke every promise I ever made to her. That makes me no better than the old man ... who broke every promise he ever made to you," the younger Wilmington replied. Rachael looked away, unwilling to remember the beautiful, naive young girl she had been once upon a time. The girl who had blamed the working girls for her husband's neglect, instead of the man himself.
At least at first. Until she realized just what he was capable of doing. Until a young woman approached her on the street to warn her, and her life began falling apart. She was thirty- three years old when her old life ended, with her marriage. She was thirty-six before her life began anew, here in the West. She chose the West, because she had more choices out here. And it was here that she met her second husband, a man Papa liked.
"We all make mistakes, Mr. Wilmington. You love your sister, and she loves you. She may be afraid to trust you ... I'm sure she is, in fact. But she loves you. And where there's love, there's forgiveness. That's why I left your father. Because I was simply in love with the idea of love. I never loved him, and he never loved me ... because he's not capable of love. Any capacity for love he might have had was wiped out with the deaths of his parents," Rachael answered.
She wondered if Buck Wilmington knew how his grandparents died. Wondered if he knew what kind of people they had been. She hadn't known them, but she knew how they died. They had died, trying to save someone whom they loved.
And she felt sure that despite what both grandchildren had done, the wrongs they had committed, Daniel and Maura Wilmington would have been proud of both their grandson and their granddaughter. She felt sure that their spirits had somehow skipped over the son they had died trying to save, and went more to the man in the bathtub, to the girl in Four Corners. Rachael said, rising to her feet, "I'm sure you need to finish bathing ... so I will leave you to it. I need to check on your friend. Take your time."
Take your time, because there is too much going on. My brother in law the doctor is known to you, and it's not yet time for you to meet again. But she said none of this. And Buck Wilmington evidently trusted her, for he nodded. Rachael rose to her feet and walked out of the bath house, heading back to the main house, where her brother in law was doing what he truly loved best ... healing the hurts of others.
Feedback to Author