Two days of riding found the four in Greytown, a couple of days from their rendezvous point. Until then all had gone smoothly, at least in the opinion of three of the riders. The gambler had, of course, found many reasons to bemoan the journey, but they all were well used to his litany of complaints on such occasions and so ignored him.
However, now he had a real reason for his discontent. He had been playing a quiet game of poker for abysmally low stakes and yet one of the losers, a large man called Todd Jones, had had the temerity to call him a cheat. Ezra strongly resented the implication that he did not possess sufficient skills to defeat such inferior card-players by honest methods. He had proceeded to comment disdainfully to that effect and Jones had grabbed for his gun. However, Buck had smashed a fist down on his gun arm, as he started to raise it, causing him to drop his weapon.
With a snarl, Jones had turned upon Wilmington only to feel a hand grip his arm. He swung round and Vin's fist took him square on the jaw and he went down as if pole-axed.
His friends piled in to help him and soon a major free-for-all was underway. Some of the locals joined the newcomers, so the fight was fairly evenly balanced and the outcome was uncertain.
Shaking his head to clear it, Jones was about to raise himself painfully from the floor when he spotted the longhaired man who had decked him. He froze, feigning unconsciousness and summing up the situation. Smiling to himself, he drew his sheath knife and bided his time, anticipating with pleasure the moment when he would sink the vicious blade into his assailant's stomach. 'I'll teach that little bastard not to interfere in others' business,' he thought vengefully.
The longhaired, young man moved closer, unaware of his danger, his eyes intent on JD Dunne, who was having trouble dealing with a much larger man.
Jones tensed in readiness, and then without warning, launched himself up at the hapless sharpshooter.
Turning at that moment, a horrified Buck spotted Jones rising from the floor and lunging at the tracker with a knife. "LOOK OUT, VIN!" he shouted frantically, helpless to intercept the man.
Hearing the warning, Vin realized his danger and tried to throw himself to one side, but with his injured foot, was not able to move fast enough to totally evade the thrust. The knife bit deep, although not quite where Jones had intended. Vin screamed in pain and doubled over.
In moments, Buck was across the room and delivering a savage rabbit-killer to the back of the knifeman's neck. The man collapsed, unmoving.
Unable to investigate Vin's injuries because of the fight raging around them, the ladies' man stood astride the tracker to try to protect him from further attack. While beating off anyone who came too near, he also gazed around in an attempt to ascertain how his friends were faring. Ezra and Josiah were still on their feet, though somewhat the worst for wear. But where was the kid?
Wilmington's heart was in his mouth. He could not leave Vin, but JD was always his first concern. Where the hell was he?
"JD!!!" he bellowed. "JD, where are ya? C'mon, kid, answer me."
The kid's head appeared above the bar and he peered blearily around. "What are you shouting about, Buck? Some of us are trying to sleep here."
Buck breathed a sigh of relief. Even as he did so, he realized the room had quietened, the men having fought themselves to a standstill. He quickly squatted down to check on Vin.
The tracker was curled into a fetal position, with his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his face bone white. Wilmington could see his bloody hands wrapped around the knife. For a moment, Buck thought he was going to black out as he saw the blood spreading across the tracker's crotch. Fighting down his nausea, he took hold of the tracker's wrists. "L-Let m-me see, Vin," he faltered, knowing that it was his duty to help the tracker although he was frankly terrified as to what he might find.
"Get away from me," Vin snarled warningly.
"Please, Vin, it's Buck. Let me help ya."
"Oh, God," he heard Ezra gasp, as the gambler joined him. Unlike the ladies' man, Standish was not given to blasphemy, but like Buck, he was frightened by the apparent position of the blade.
"Help me, Ezra," Buck appealed. "I need to ... to see what ..." He trailed off unable to continue.
Ezra knelt down. "Vin," he said gently, stroking a hand down Vin's face. "It's Ezra. I want to assist you."
"Ez?"
"Yes, and Mr Wilmington. Please permit us to examine you."
Vin nodded reluctantly. "Hurts a bit, Ez," he muttered.
For Vin to admit to feeling pain, he was clearly hurting more than a little and his three friends all knew it.
"I imagine it does, but I assure you it will be fine," the gambler said comfortingly, pretending a confidence he was far from feeling.
As he spoke, he moved his hands down and took the tracker's wrists from Buck's nerveless grasp. "Now please allow Mr Wilmington to investigate your injury," he said, drawing the hands to one side. He kept his gaze firmly on Vin's face.
'Yeah, great work, Ez,' Buck thought. 'Trust ya to leave me with the nasty job.' He gulped and carefully rolled the tracker over onto his back.
Immediately he breathed more easily. The sheath knife was protruding from the fleshy part high on the inside of Vin's right thigh. "Thank God," he murmured and heard several of the men gathered around echo the sentiment. Some had been on the opposing side in the brawl, but they had all shared an automatic male feeling of fear when they had first seen the tracker's apparent plight.
"Get it out, Buck!" Vin hissed.
Buck looked around. "Does this town have a doctor?" he asked, expecting a negative answer.
To his surprise and relief, several men answered in the affirmative and informed him that a Doctor John Forbes had a clinic just along the street.
"Listen, Vin, I think we'd better take ya along and get the doc to take the knife out. Ya've bled a lot already and there'll be more when it comes out."
"Okay, Bucklin," the tracker gasped in weary resignation, "ya do what ya think best."
JD and Buck picked him up as carefully as they could and carried him along to the clinic.
The man who answered the door, and swiftly, but courteously, exchanged introductions with them, was not what they were expecting. A man in his early fifties, he was tall, handsome and immaculately dressed. When he spoke his voice impressed them all with its cultured tones. A rough, little place like Greytown, would have been the last place one would have expected to find such a man. Normally, such a town was lucky to have even a self-taught healer or a doctor whose liking for the bottle has spelled an end to any career he might have had. However, the men were too relieved to question his presence.
All except for Vin that is. The tracker took one look at Doctor Forbes, shuddered visibly and said urgently, "Buck, I wanna wait for Nate!"
In the months that they had known him, the rest of the seven had come to accept that the tracker had an uncanny ability to read sign and that skill seemed to include reading people, but on this occasion all ignored him. They were just too relieved to find quality help near at hand, and in any case, all were only too well aware of Tanner's aversion to doctors and attributed his reaction to that unreasonable attitude.
Forbes ushered them in to his clinic and directed them to lie Vin on the narrow bed there.
The doctor reached for Vin only to have Tanner bat his hand away. "Don't touch me," he growled.
"I need to remove the knife, Mr Tanner."
"No!" Vin exclaimed stubbornly. "I want Nate."
"C'mon, Vin," JD protested, embarrassed by the tracker's behaviour, "the doctor's trying to help you. Anyway, Nathan and Chris won't be coming here. They'll be waiting for us to join them in Wellston."
"Take me there! I don't want ..."
"Shut up, Vin!" Buck ordered. "Beggin' yer pardon, doc, but I think I know what the problem is. Ya see young Vin here gets a mite embarrassed havin' folk touch him. He doesn't mean to be rude."
Doctor Forbes interrupted, smiling urbanely, "No offence taken, gentlemen. I suspect he is in shock and can also see how the position of his injury might well be upsetting to him. Perhaps if you all left me to handle him he would be more comfortable."
"Yeah, I reckon he might at that."
"No, Buck, don't. Please I don't ..." Vin protested.
However, his friends all ignored him and Forbes interrupted stating firmly, "That's settled then. I'll send you a message when I'm done. Where will you be?"
"The saloon. I reckon I need another drink after this," Wilmington replied
"Are you certain you would not like our assistance, doctor?" Ezra asked.
"Thank you, but no, although perhaps you could help me with something first." He turned to his shelves and lifted down a couple of bottles. "I'll mix up a little draught for him. It'll deaden the pain a bit. He'll be a bit drowsy, but that should calm him down."
"N-No! Don't! Ez, don't let him. Please don't!" Vin cried, clutching frantically at the gambler's coat sleeve. He was terrified of being made to drink the sedative.
Standish heard the uncharacteristic note of fear in the tracker's voice and started to have misgivings. "Perhaps we should remain in attendance as ..."
The doctor cut him off. "No! I am sorry, gentlemen," he said, quietly, but firmly, "I should have had that knife out by now. It is not in the patient's best interests for me to waste time in debate with that wound bleeding so freely."
"Yer right, doc," Buck said. "We'll hold him still and ya give him that medicine."
In moments a coughing and spluttering Vin Tanner was glaring at his friends. "Damn ya," he grated.
"Sorry, Vin, we'll see ya later," Buck replied, starting for the door with JD in his wake.
Ezra hesitated. Vin's fear was making him uneasy. Tanner never liked doctors, but there was something more here.
Seeing his indecision, Vin appealed, "No, Ez, don't leave me. Please."
"Perhaps I ..." the gambler started.
However, Buck grabbed his arm. "C'mon, Ezra, we're keepin' the doc from his work," and drew him after them.
Already lightheaded from blood loss, Vin was struggling vainly to retain consciousness, but was fast succumbing to the potent brew he had been forced to swallow. However, he was determined to resist Forbes as long as he could. He raised his hands and pushed the doctor's hands away.
"This is doing you no good, boy," Forbes remonstrated sternly. He rummaged in a draw and produced some leather belts. Then he proceeded to strap Vin's hands to railed sides of the bed.
Vin struggled, but it was hopeless. The restraints held his wrists firmly. When his attempts to break free failed, he started to swear and shout, hoping the others might have remained within in earshot.
"Do keep quiet, boy! There's no call for these histrionics," Forbes snapped. However, the rebuke just made the tracker louder, so he shoved a wadded bandage into Vin's mouth and bound it in place.
He then cut away some of Vin's trousers around the knife before drawing the knife from Vin's leg. Blood began to gush out from the deep wound. Forbes pushed another wadded bandage against the injury and then turned to drag off Vin's boots. Then he slipped the tracker's braces from his shoulders and began to undo Tanner's fly.
Vin twisted, trying to stop him, but the doctor simply produced two more straps to secure his ankles and then continued, peeling his trousers down to his knees.
He then efficiently cleaned and stitched the wound and wrapped the bandage around Vin's thigh. Finally he stood back and looked at Vin. "There that wasn't too bad, was it, boy?"
For a moment, Tanner allowed himself the fleeting hope that he had read the man wrong, that the goose that had walked over his grave the moment his eyes laid sight upon the man, had been merely a result of the shock of his injury. However, that was immediately dashed when Forbes reached out and stroked a hand along his flaccid penis, while remarking conversationally, "You are a very lucky boy, you know. An inch or so to the left and you could have been in a lot of trouble."
Head swimming and close to unconsciousness, Vin could do no more than mumble a vague protest against his gag.
The man's hands began to range over his shaking body and he could hear him saying something about wondering how Vin had managed to pick him for what he was so easily and then everything faded out.
Once he was certain that his patient was unconscious Forbes removed the gag and restraints and finished stripping him. Then he covered him up and went to the door. Spying a local boy, he tossed him a coin and told him to go to the saloon and tell Mr Wilmington that the doctor was ready for him.
In minutes, Buck and the others were looking at Vin's still form and ashen face.
"He'll be okay, won't he?" JD asked.
"Certainly, young man."
"But he looks real pale."
"Well, he did lose quite a lot of blood. However, a couple of day's bed-rest will see him back on his feet again. Now did I hear you say you had men to meet in Wellston?"
"Yep, We're collecting some prisoners to escort back to Four Corners for trial by Judge Travis."
"May I suggest then that you do that and collect Mr Tanner on your way back. By that time, he should be well enough to travel, though a wagon would be better than a horse."
Buck nodded. "That's a good suggestion, though I should warn ya, Vin ain't the most cooperative of patients."
"Oh, I think we'll get along just fine. Once you'd all gone he settled down a lot. Of course the drug was taking effect, but he seemed generally calmer when he realized there was no point in making a fuss since his audience had left."
Both Buck and JD grinned at that, but Ezra did not. Vin Tanner was the last man to try to draw attention to himself for no good reason. His sense of unease increased, but he was aware that his companions did not share his vague misgivings.
"Would ya like us to pay ya now or shall we settle up when we collect Vin? It'll probably be at least six days before we're back this way," Buck asked. He was hoping optimistically that Chris would allow them a couple of days' break in Wellston before heading back.
"Leave it until later," Dr Forbes replied and held out his hand to Buck. "Now do not let me detain you. Your friend is in good hands, if I do say so myself, and if you depart tomorrow without visiting him, I believe we can avoid any fuss."
"I-I don't think Vin would like us doing that," JD ventured awkwardly.
"I have no doubt he will not be best pleased, but he will accept it as a fait accompli. From what I have seen, I believe he would make it very difficult for you to leave without him if he was cognizant of your intentions to do so."
"Ya've got him pegged, doc," Buck responded. "Ya'd have to tie him to the bed to stop him if he knew. I guess we'll be off and leave ya to it. C'mon, JD!" he grabbed the sheriff by the arm and headed for the door. Then he paused as he realized that the gambler had not moved. "Hey, Ez, ya comin'?"
"Yes, certainly, Mr Wilmington," Standish replied. He hurriedly murmured his thanks to Forbes and cast a worried glance at Vin before turning on his heel and following Buck.
The three rose early the next day. Ezra suggested that one of them should pay a quick call to see how Vin was, but Buck disagreed, arguing that the doctor would probably still have Vin drugged and if he was awake he would be bound to cause an awkward scene as Forbes had predicted. The gambler fought down his misgivings and thet headed for the livery.
They were five or so miles out of the town when Buck turned to Ezra and observed, "Yer awful quiet, Ezra. What's botherin' ya?"
"Do you consider that we have embarked upon the correct course of action, Mr Wilmington?" Ezra asked.
"I reckon. We'll be cuttin' it fine getting' those outlaws back in time for the trial and Chris will be champin' at the bit if we delay any."
"Yes, but what about Mr Tanner? I fear he will not take kindly to being abandoned."
"He's in good hands, Ezra. Hell, I'd never have thought we'd find a doctor like Forbes in a bitsy little place like that."
"Neither would I and, I confess, that has got me more than somewhat perplexed."
"Just be glad he was there, Ezra," Buck responded breezily.
"I am, but something just does not feel right. Perhaps I should return there."
"I don't think so. Chris wanted all of us on the job. It's bad enough escorting half a dozen men, but there's always the chance some of their friends might try to free them."
Ezra acquiesced reluctantly. He just wished that he could have a chance to speak privately to Vin first. He wanted to know exactly what had got the tracker so stirred up. Admittedly the normally quiet, calm and easy-going Mr Tanner always became vocal, disagreeable and obstructive when ill, but he was not normally afraid.+ + + + + + +
The doctor had smiled as he watched them ride out. It had been easier than he had anticipated. He had feared that the one called Standish might make trouble and so had taken the precaution of ensuring Vin was well drugged in case of an early visit. Now all he had to do was wait until Tanner regained consciousness and the fun could recommence.
Forbes was delighted to have the opportunity to allow his predilections free rein. It was wonderful to have a patient who would definitely be having no immediate visitors and was in no position to defend himself. Normally he had to be much more circumspect and even then rumours had started that had forced him to abandon his lucrative San Francisco practice lest they reach the ear of someone in authority who might take the notion to investigate further.
He yawned contentedly. Perhaps he would take a short nap until Vin was ready for him once more. He had had quite a strenuous night, but such a beautiful young man was irresistible and it had been so delightful to discover that he had been previously untouched. With his looks, one could have expected otherwise. He leaned back in his chair and thought about the night's activities.
In between his assaults on Vin, he had used his usual line of defence, a well-used range of arguments indeed designed to unsettle and confuse a victim, already suffering psychological distress and the mind-numbing effects of his various potions. "I know you will be eager to ensure that nobody finds out our little secret, boy. Anyway you know it would be no use to complain to the authorities. Who would take the word of the likes of you against that of a respected professional man?" and "Of course, if you were so stupid as to tell your friends anything, I can easily turn your words against you. Why I'm sure that your friends would be totally shocked to hear how you tempted a happily married man into your perverted little games. I imagine they'd be so disgusted they wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you."
Vin had stared at him in horror. The old bastard was certainly correct about anyone in authority and probably right too about the likely reaction of the others. The preacher would think he had sinned. Nathan would not approve either and what on earth would the kid think? But, really, when it came to the crunch, what mattered was what Chris would think. And he was certain the gunslinger would be disgusted with him.
Then he had wondered if the doctor was right about that, whether he was also correct when he blamed him. Had the doctor somehow divined his yearnings for Chris and decided he was fair game?
In truth, he had had a hard time thinking at all, let alone logically. Not only was he hurting and upset, but the man kept forcing odd potions down his throat that made him feel dizzy and disconnected while still aware of the painful and humiliating assaults.
Forbes always liked his victims to be conscious and suffering, but he liked the safeguard the drugs provided. Who knew what nonsense a boy might have dreamt when under the influence of so-called painkillers?
'Yes, the next few days will be most pleasant,' Forbes mused. Thus far, only one thing had served to detract slightly from his pleasure. The boy was a less satisfactory victim than usual in that he had steadfastly refused to beg and resolutely repressed any expression of pain. Still there was plenty of time to remedy that. It was odd though, that apart from swearing and threatening, the only word the boy had spoken was "Chris".+ + + + + + +
In contrast to the doctor, the gunslinger had a bad night. A raspy voice gasping his name had awoken him in the early hours. He had looked wildly around for the tracker before realizing he had been dreaming. However, he could not get back to sleep. He was sure something was wrong and that Vin needed him. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to get up and to go in search of the tracker.
'Get a grip on yerself, Larabee,' he chided, 'yer crackin' up.'
It was damned ridiculous to lie in bed imagining scenarios in which Vin might need him. It just showed how much Tanner had managed to unsettle him with his inappropriate behaviour. Well, Tanner might want him, but he could damn well go on wanting. Chris Larabee was not interested in men and certainly not in Vin Tanner.
"It won't work, Vin, I ain't lookin' for ya," he announced irrationally and then felt more stupid than ever to be talking to an empty room.
He reached out for the whiskey bottle on the bedside table. Perhaps that would help him sleep.+ + + + + + +
Two days after they left Greytown, Buck, Ezra and JD reached Wellston. They were somewhat put out to find Larabee was ready to depart for home immediately. They were all disappointed by what they viewed as unreasonable zeal to complete the job. After all, the prisoners were safely ensconced in the local jail and they had all had plans for Wellston. JD had hoped to get a chance to look around an unfamiliar town, while Standish and Wilmington had thoughts of new ladies and new marks respectively.
However, Chris soon disabused them of any such notion. He stated firmly that the judge had given him a trial date, and if they were too meet this, even a day could not be spared. Further, there was always a chance that the men might have friends who might try to free them en route and so the sooner they were safely in Eagle Bend the better.
What he did not say was that the moment he heard that Vin was injured and alone, for an unknown medical man, no matter how good, did not count, nothing could have kept him from racing to his friend's side. Indeed, he was almost overwhelmed by a sense of utmost urgency. Quite what emotion was the driving force behind it he did not know or rather did not care to inquire into too closely. He told himself his reaction would have been the same no matter which of his friend's was in such a plight, but he was uneasily aware that that was not true.
Once on the trail they made good time, as the prisoners were clearly more frightened of Larabee than of their upcoming trial and made no attempt to slow proceedings.
So a mere four days after their departure, Buck, Ezra and JD found themselves nearing Greytown once more.
Larabee announced, "I don't reckon we should waste time. Nate and I can collect Vin. You boys head on and we'll catch ya up."
Under normal circumstances the three might have suggested a break, but they had no desire to visit the saloon there again.
"Good idea, Chris. I'm all for getting' the prisoners to Eagle Bend and then gettin' home as fast as we can. I'm certain the ladies'll been missin' me," Buck agreed. "Why I'm bettin' Inez'll have been pinin' for me."
"I will cover that bet," Ezra quickly put in.
"I didn't exactly mean that I ..." Buck started. He knew he should never have used the term 'bet' in the gambler's vicinity.
"Are you trying to welsh on the bet already?" JD asked gleefully, happy to see the ladies' man being neatly trapped.
"Of course, not!"
"Shall we say $10 then?" Standish queried. "And $5 more if the lady in question denies having even noticed that you were absent?"
"Yes, fine! Yer on!" Buck snapped, wondering where in hell he was going to find $15, since Inez was only too likely to make such a comment.
"Yeah, well the pair of ya just make sure ya keep yer minds on the job at hand," Larabee warned.
Chris and Nathan rode into the town and lost no time in seeking directions to the doctor's residence. Turning to the handsome, young stable boy, that was about to see to their horses, Chris asked, "Can ya tell me where we find the local doctor?"
To his surprise the boy scowled and demanded curtly, "What do ya want him for?"
Larabee visibly bristled and was clearly about to retort that it was none of the youth's business, but Jackson hurriedly intervened and explained, "He's caring for a friend of ours."
"Caring? That ain't the word I'd use for what he does," the lad responded. "If yer really concerned about yer friend I wouldn't leave him there."
"What do ya mean?"
The youth's colour rose and he looked awkward. "I just ... I don't like his notion of doctorin', that's all. Forget I spoke. His clinic's at the far end of the main street. Ya can't miss it. There's a sign." With that he turned away abruptly to get on with his tasks.
"Hell, that damned kid sounded like Vin," Larabee opined grinning, as the pair strolled along the boardwalk. Both men knew only too well how much the tracker hated having to seek medical assistance and what a contumacious patient he could be.
"Well, I just hope Vin has been better behaved for this Dr Forbes than he is for me," Nathan responded. "He might not have my patience and has probably chucked our tracker out on his ear by now."
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