Meanwhile the tracker was still lying low in the gambler's rooms. Indeed, he was doing it both figuratively and literally since Ezra, having observed his physical and mental exhaustion, had slipped a sleeping potion into his brandy. Once it had taken effect, he had stripped the tracker of boots, coat and gun and bundled him onto the bed.
Then he stood looking down at the tracker, wondering what he and the others could do to help him recover from his dreadful experience. He had never had the opportunity to observe Vin sleeping and what he now saw surprised him.
The first thing was the man's youthfulness. He had always assumed the sharpshooter, both from his manner and range of life experiences, to be somewhere in his thirties, but seeing him now it was clear that he was not. The face now relaxed in sleep was much younger. 'He cannot have more than a couple of years on Mr Dunne,' Ezra reflected sadly, thinking just how young Vin must have been when he was forced by circumstances to strike out on his own. His own life had not been easy, but Tanner's one ... Well, it did not bear thinking about.
He turned to consideration of the second thing that had surprised him: Vin's beauty. Ezra had never actually thought of beauty as an attribute applicable to a male, but Vin was beautiful. There was no more appropriate adjective. He might be badly in need of a shave, there might be tear tracks on his cheeks and dark smudges under his eyes, but he was beautiful ... devastatingly so.
Although not that way inclined himself, he could understand why Forbes had been tempted. Indeed, he wondered how a lone boy with looks like Tanner's had managed to survive at all with all the predators that roamed the West. For the first time he realized that there might be a purpose behind the rough stubble Vin habitually affected and which Ezra, to his shame, had made scathing reference on more than one occasion in the past when trying to persuade Vin to tidy himself up.
Well, unfortunately, Forbes had obviously been more perceptive that he had and Vin's attempt to appear older and less attractive had not fooled him. Now, somehow, Ezra and the others had to help him cope with what had happened, and so far, they had failed him dismally.
He and Buck had registered the tracker's unhappiness, but had not realized what he had suffered. Further, they had elected to stand back and wait for Vin to speak, rather than actively seeking to know what had upset him. So, apparently abandoned by his friends, if Vin had not had so much natural resilience, Ezra dreaded to think just what he might have done either to Forbes or, far worse, to himself. If only he had confided in someone!
Impulsively, he reached out a comforting hand and stroked it gently down Vin's pale cheek. Even in his drugged state, Vin turned towards the hand, nuzzling in to it and murmuring "Chris".
'No,' Ezra thought, "I was wrong, we can't really help him. There's only one person who can do that and I doubt that Chris Larabee will have the intestinal fortitude or the heart to help Vin in the way he really needs to be helped.'
At that moment, there was an imperious knock on the door to Ezra's sitting room. 'Speak of the devil,' the gambler thought. He went into the sitting room, carefully closing the bedroom door behind him. Then he opened the door to the corridor.
"Where is he, Standish?" Larabee demanded abruptly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Where's Vin?"
"Mr Tanner is not here."
"No, but I don't suppose ya'd care to wager on him not bein' in yer bedroom."
"And if he is?"
"We want to see him."
"I am afraid that is quite inconvenient at present. Mr Tanner has stated he does not desire to converse with Mr Jackson in the immediate future."
"What about me?" the gunslinger queried.
"He did not mention you, Mr Larabee, but since he is sleeping at this moment, I beg leave to doubt that he requires your society either."
"Vin's asleep? In the middle of the day! What's wrong? " Larabee asked in concern. "Is he sick?"
"Exhausted! Unhappy! Heartsick! You name it. But the direct cause of his current situation is a useful little narcotic that I slipped into his brandy. I am afraid he was not sufficiently accustomed to that beverage to detect any variation in taste."
"You drugged him!" Nathan exclaimed, incredulous at the gambler's sheer effrontery in casually admitting to his reprehensible action.
"I took that liberty. I believe it was the most sensible course given his physical and mental exhaustion. You may possibly have observed that he has been suffering an immense amount of stress since the unfortunate events in Greytown or even, one might say, since the evening on which our expedition to Wellston was planned," he added determined to get at Larabee.
"Damn ya, Standish," the gunslinger muttered, admitting that the barb had gone home.
Ezra smiled insouciantly. "Now, Mr Larabee, the question is just what do you propose to do to help him regain his normal equilibrium. I truly believe that you are the only one amongst us with the required qualifications for the task."
"Qualifications?" Larabee questioned in confusion.
"Vin loves you," the gambler replied simply, deliberately opting to employ none of his customary circumlocution, and thus emphasizing his words.
Larabee swallowed convulsively. It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it, but there was no point. All three knew it to be true, though the gunslinger could not imagine what he had done to deserve it.
Standish continued, "Now, the question is: Do you love him enough to give him what he needs?"
"I-I hope so," Larabee faltered, suddenly, and most uncharacteristically, uncertain of himself.
The gambler nodded with satisfaction. In truth, he had not expected the gunslinger to openly acknowledge that he loved the tracker, while Larabee's hesitant speech better served to convince him of the man's sincerity than any brashly confident statement could have done.
"C-Can I see him?"
"All right, but not you, Mr Jackson." He softened his tone and added, "I am certain he will eventually communicate with you, but he has articulated his discomfort in discussing his ordeal."
Nathan nodded resignedly. In truth, he felt it was no more than he deserved for the way he had treated Vin.
Ezra ushered Chris into his bedroom and then stepped out again, closing the door behind him. "Shall we repair to the saloon, Mr Jackson?" he asked. He had been furious with the healer, but recognized that he was no angrier with him than the man was with himself.
Meanwhile, Larabee looked down at Vin's still form. Thick lashes covered the large sky-blue eyes. His hair framed his beautiful face and curled enticingly over his smooth-skinned shoulders. 'How could I have rejected him?' Larabee wondered. 'I must be mad.'
Vin could feel someone looking at him, but that did not worry him, as it usually would have done, because he instinctively recognized his observer. He did not need to open his eyes to know who it was. He could never mistake Chris Larabee for anyone else. No matter how much the gunslinger might deny it, they were linked. No matter how Chris treated him, he still sent Vin's pulses racing with love. Even if Larabee ordered him to leave Four Corners Vin would still love him and he knew that he always would regardless of Larabee's sentiments.
To his surprise, Larabee took hold of his hand. A little tremor of pleasure ran through the tracker at the touch. He had to fight to stop himself turning his face in to Chris' hand. He lay still, hardly daring to breathe, wondering what on earth Larabee was about.
To his surprise, he felt Larabee's thumb stroking the back of his hand. Then Chris whispered, "I'm sorry, Vin. I'm sorry for everythin'."
Vin was tempted just to lie there and continue to pretend to be asleep because Chris seemed to be nicer to him if he thought Vin could not hear him. However, he knew that he needed to face him. He tried to open his eyes, but his lids felt like lead. 'That damned Ez's slipped me somethin',' he thought.
Chris saw the lashes fluttering. "Vin, it's Chris," he said hurriedly, concerned lest the tracker be uncertain who was hovering over him.
"Yeah, I know, cowboy, yer just a bit blurry at present, but I'm workin' on it." He started to try to struggle into a sitting position.
Chris put a hand against his chest and gently pushed him back down. "Take yer time, Vin. That damned gambler's given ya a sleepin' draught."
"Yeah, I thought as much. Don't be mad at him, Chris, he's been very kind to me."
"I know, a helluva lot kinder than I've been."
"Don't matter, cowboy, yer here now."
Chris winced. How often he had heard Vin utter those first two words, accepting a less than fair lot. He rightly suspected that Vin's harsh life had given him a feeling that he never deserved better than what he received. "No, it does matter, Vin," he insisted. "I've wronged ya and I'm sorry."
Vin blinked at him uncertainly. "I-I'm not sure ... " he started, but broke off, uncertain just what Larabee meant and so not knowing quite how to react.
For his part, the gunslinger was lacking his usual decisiveness. He had not really thought beyond locating the tracker and found himself uncharacteristically tongue-tied. Unsure where he was best to start in order to sort out the mess he had created, he suddenly found himself blurting, "Vin, I've seen the newspaper."
Vin swallowed convulsively. "Y-Ya s-saw it?"
"Nate showed it to me."
"And ya not ... Aren't ya m-mad with me?" he asked disbelievingly, struggling to a sitting position.
"Why should I be mad with you?" Larabee questioned, more than somewhat bemused by the response.
"That kid."
"Huh? What about him?"
"Iffen I'd done what I shoulda ... Iffen I'd gone back and k-killed Forbes, he couldn't have ... couldn't have t-touched the boy."
"Vin, he'd already hurt that kid before he hurt you."
"How could ya know that?" Vin asked. He desperately hoped it to be true, but did not know how Chris could know such a thing.
"Nate and I met the boy at the livery. He made some rude comments about Forbes and advised us not to leave ya with him. I sorry I didn't realize what he was hintin' at. I just thought he was someone, like ya, who wasn't too keen on medical treatment."
"So it ... it ... so do ya think it doesn't matter that I didn't go back after Forbes myself?"
"I'm just relieved that ya didn't. The kid won't get punished, but if ya were up before the court someone might have made the connection with Tascosa and then we'd both be in trouble."
"Both?"
"Well, I couldn't let them hang the man I love, could I?"
"Love?" Vin queried, disbelievingly. At the word, his heart had started thumping so hard it felt like it was going to burst from his breast.
"Is there an echo in here?"
"B-But I thought ya were m-mad at me even before ... even before ..."
"Before what?"
"For huggin' ya."
"Before what?" Larabee reiterated, aware that Vin was trying to avoid his question.
Vin bit his lip. "Before Forbes," he said shamefacedly.
A wave of guilt washed over Larabee, threatening to drown him. He and Nathan had clearly done an excellent job of destroying Vin's self-esteem if the tracker could feel that being sexually assaulted was somehow his own fault. He hurried to try to rectify matters. "That wasn't yer fault, Vin and neither was what happened in the alley. I hugged ya first, ya know."
"Yeah, but ya didn't mean it in the way I did," the tracker said sadly.
"No, I didn't," Larabee agreed, but added, "not at first anyway. I got a helluva shock when I suddenly realized that I wasn't just comfortin' an upset friend, but was enjoyin' holdin' ya in my arms. And I'm sorry, Vin, but the idea really threw me and ... and ... Well, I ain't proud of myself, but I decided it was all yer fault and the best thin' to do was keep away from ya and try to pretend it never happened."
"It s'prised me too, Chris," Vin confessed. "I hadn't realized till then."
"But ya were brave enough to admit it to yerself, weren't ya?"
"Yeah, but I figured ya didn't see it like I did. I didn't think ya'd ever really want someone like me. I just thought I'd ruined our friendship by bein' stupid enough to embarrass ya by reactin' to ya like I did."
"No, Vin, I was the stupid one and I apologize." He paused, wondering how best to proceed. He did not want to upset Vin again, but he had to know. Finally, he said, "Vin, I don't know exactly how to ask this, but I wonder if ... if ... would ya ..." He trailed off uncertainly.
The long hesitation and his serious look sent Vin's heart plummeting. He feared he knew what Chris was trying to ask and he did not want to hear it. However, Tanners were not cowards and hiding from the truth did not make it disappear no matter how one longed for it to do so, so he squared his shoulders and forced himself to say, "Chris, ya know I'll do anythin' ya want. Ya said ya loved me and I thank ya for tellin' me, but I know ya ain't comfortable with how ya feel. Iffen ya want me to leave town I'll go." As he spoke, he clambered off the bed and reached for his coat, which was lying on the bedside chair.
Aghast at the tracker's words, Larabee reached out and clutched Vin's upper arms. "No, Vin, yer wrong!" he protested. "I want ya to stay."
Vin looked at him uncertainly. He wanted to believe Chris so much, but could not do so. "Ya don't hafta say that," he rasped. "I don't want to be a bother to ya."
"Do ya want to leave, Vin?" Chris asked, wondering if that was what Vin really meant. Hell, after what had happened to him, the last thing the tracker probably wanted was a relationship with a male. The trouble was that the gunslinger now wanted him so desperately and he simply had to know if Vin would agree.
"Iffen ya want me to."
"That ain't what I asked, cowboy. I want to know what you want."
Vin stared at him, as if having a choice was an alien concept, and then mumbled, "I want to stay, but ..."
"No buts!" Larabee interrupted. "Look, Vin, I want ya to stay because ... because... Oh, hell, perhaps I'd better show ya!" With that he pulled a stunned tracker against him and kissed him soundly.
When he finally relaxed his hold slightly, and let a breathless Tanner up for air, the latter staggered a step back. His legs came up against the bed and he lost his balance and sprawled back onto it. Still clinging to him, Larabee landed on top of him.
"Ya squashin' me, cowboy," Vin gasped.
"Ya'd better get used to it, Tanner, 'cos I aim to spend a lot of time in this position," Larabee retorted jokingly. However, he immediately rolled off and helped Vin into a sitting position. Then he said seriously, "That's if ya'll let me, Vin. I do love ya and I need to know if, after all that's happened, ya might ... ya might still ..."
"Want ya?"
The gunslinger nodded.
"Course I do, cowboy, I ..."
However, the gunslinger had heard enough. He swooped the tracker into his arms and began to kiss him once more.
No more words were necessary.
The End
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