Thanks to Kay for asking me to write a story for the zine...it just didn't want to quit. Thanks as always to Marti and Antoinette for the wonderful beta job. You guys have been great. Feedback is welcome, flames are quickly extinguished.
Prologue:
Buck smiled as he saw the beautiful redhead walking toward him. They'd been seeing each other for a month now and tonight would be something special. Angela Tate was twenty-two, fully developed in all the right places, with green eyes flecked with gold. Tonight they were meeting Chris Larabee for dinner and Buck was going to ask her to marry him. His stomach was in knots as she closed the short distance and he picked her up in his arms.
"Oh, Buck, I missed you so much."
"Angela, it's only been four hours," he said as he breathed against her neck.
"I know, Buck, but every minute I have to spend away from you is agonizing. I want to be with you all the time."
"Me too, Darlin'. So are you ready to meet Chris?"
"I don't know, Buck, I'd rather just spend time with you...alone...if you know what I mean."
"Oh, I do, Darlin', but I really want you to meet Chris. He's my best friend..."
"I thought I was your best friend?"
"You are...my best lady friend...there's a big difference. Come on we'll have dinner with Chris and then we'll make our way out to Lover's Landing," Wilmington suggested seductively. They'd been there several times, but hadn't made love and Buck knew he wouldn't make that kind of advance on her until she made the first move.
"All right, but after dinner you're all mine," Angela told him as she allowed him to kiss her passionately.
"Angela, I'm already yours," Wilmington said, as they linked arms and strode towards the Midfield Hotel and Restaurant.
Midfield was a fair sized town for the Midwest and the restaurant and hotel were well known across the territory as being one of the best west of Boston. The jail was situated at the south end of the town, the livery across from the jail, and a fair sized mercantile was situated in the center of the north side of the street. There was a small church that was always packed to capacity for Sunday service and it also served as a place for town meetings. There was a telegraph and post office in the building next to the hotel and a boarding house was set to the right of the telegraph office.
Buck smiled as he pushed open the door to the restaurant and spotted his friend seated at a table near the window. The sun glinted off the blond head and he could tell Chris had taken a bath and cleaned himself up for this meeting. The gentle ladies' man was proud of the woman holding his arm and he wanted Larabee to like her. A slight tug on his arm stopped his forward momentum and he turned to look at his beautiful companion.
"What's wrong, Angela?"
"Are you sure you want me to meet him, Buck, he looks kind of scary?"
"That's just Chris, Honey. He's kind of rough around the edges being from Indiana and all, but don't let that fool you. He's a good friend and he knows how much I care for you. You'll like him and he'll like you, but don't you go falling in love with him or I just might get ugly."
"Oh, Buck, how could I fall in love with anyone when they disappear as soon as I see you?" Angela asked coyly.
"Now that's music to my ears. So, do you think you can face him?"
"As long as you hold me tight," the woman said and gripped his arm before they walked towards the man seated at the table.
Chris had noticed them as soon as they entered the restaurant, but did not let on that he'd seen them. Angela Tate was even more beautiful than Buck had described and Chris thought she was someone he might have taken a chance on if his friend had not already laid claim to her. He saw the duo stop and the redhead turn towards Wilmington and briefly wondered what she was saying. Something about her movements spoke of a seduction and Chris wondered if she was as innocent as Wilmington believed her to be. He stood up as the two people began moving towards his table once more.
"Chris, I'd like you to meet Angela Tate, the most beautiful enchantress in the territory."
"Pleased to meet you, Ma'am," Larabee said as he tipped his hat and held the chair for her.
"Oh my, thank you. Buck told me you were well mannered, but I think he was wrong. I think, Mr. Larabee, that you are a charmer."
"Hey, you ol' war dog, that's my girl you're sparking there."
"I'm not sparking her, Buck, but only because she's your date. Would you like a glass of wine, Miss. Tate?"
"Yes, please, Mr. Larabee."
"Call me Chris..."
"Only if you call me Angela."
"Done," Chris said and sat down. He motioned for the waiter to come over and ordered a glass of red wine for the young woman and whiskey for himself and Buck. The waiter brought menus before leaving to get the drinks.
"Chris, Buck tells me you want to breed stallions," Angela said, blushing as she realized what she'd said.
"Well, yes, I guess you could say that. Horses are beautiful animals and if treated properly they can be a man's best friend," Larabee told her.
"Me and Chris are thinking about starting a place just north of here. Figure we'd start off with a couple of purebreds and work our way from there."
"Oh, that sounds so exciting. What about a house?" Angela asked as the waiter returned with their drinks.
"We've already started building one, but it's going to be small to start with," Wilmington explained. "We're going to need a big barn to stable the horses and then we'll need to finish the corral before we concentrate on the house, but it'll be big enough for our needs."
"Sure will," Larabee agreed. He had a feeling Wilmington was leading up to something and sat back to let the other man talk.
"Angela," Wilmington said, reaching for the white-gloved hand.
"Yes, Buck."
"Will you," the mustached man sank to one knee and took her hands in his as he looked into her green alluring eyes, "marry me?"
"Oh, Buck, I...I..."
"Please, Darlin', there's no one I'd rather spend my life with and I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy and give you the world on a gold platter if that's what it'll take," Wilmington told her.
"Oh, Buck, I don't know what to say..."
"I think you'd best say yes before Buck stops breathing for good," Larabee said, a slight smile gracing his handsome features.
"Yes, Buck, oh yes," she said and laughed as he stood up, whooped loudly, threw his hat in the air, and finally picked her up in his strong arms. "She said yes!"
The small crowd in the restaurant had been quietly watching the three people by the window and smiled as the man made his announcement. The promise of happiness hung in the air, but there was also a harbinger of regret lurking nearby.
Four Corners
"Buck, watch out!" Dunne shouted as Wilmington walked haphazardly across the street. The young sheriff breathed a sigh of relief as the passing wagon veered away before hitting the unwavering figure. He hurried after the older man and grabbed his arm before moving in front of him. "What the hell's the matter with you, Buck?"
"Huh, what?"
"You could have been killed. What's wrong with you?"
Wilmington saw the wagon making its way towards the end of town and knew he'd been in a world of his own. He looked down at the paper held tightly in his hand and took another step towards the saloon where Larabee and Tanner were sure to be found. Without a word to Dunne he continued on with a determined gait.
"Buck, what's going on?"
"Nothin', Kid, just gotta see Chris."
"Why? What was in that telegram? Is it about Ella Gaines?"
"Ella Gaines? No...not about her."
"You sure...you're awful pale, Buck, maybe you should go see Nathan."
"Don't need Nathan, Kid," Wilmington said as he reached the saloon and pushed through the batwing doors. He scanned the dim interior until he spotted the two men at the back of the saloon. Both sat with their backs to the wall in an effort to watch everything that was going on. This position had saved them all more than once and he knew it was the easiest way to defend each other. Without a word Buck made his way to the back and slumped into the chair across from Chris Larabee.
"Buck, you look like you've seen a ghost," Larabee said softly.
"Maybe not seen one, Chris, but I heard from one."
"You're not making sense, Buck," Larabee said as Dunne sat next to Tanner.
"Here," Wilmington said and handed his long time friend the telegram.
Chris read the words quickly and took a breath of air before meeting the other man's eyes once more. "Angela?"
"Yeah, I need to see her, Chris. I need to know why she left."
"When are you going?" Larabee asked.
"Was thinking I'd leave tomorrow."
"Want some company?"
"Hell yeah, you know I do! It's just, well, you know what I was like after she left."
Larabee rubbed his chin as if remembering all too well his encounter with a straight razor. Chris regretted using the same form of terror on Buck the day he'd found out the rogue was talking about his own private affairs.
"Yeah, I remember, but it seems to me payback's a bitch. So, are you sure you want to see her again?"
"I have to, Chris. I need to know why she left like she did."
"All right, Buck, we leave in the morning."
"Need any of us to come along?" Dunne asked.
"No, Kid, I think me and Chris can handle this. You boys will need to make up for our absence," Wilmington said.
"Are you gonna send a reply?" Larabee asked, feeling the buckskin clad body tense up beside him.
"Yeah, figure I'd better...just in case she's got company," Wilmington said and accepted the drink Larabee slid across to him.
"Ya gonna tell us about her, Buck?" Dunne asked.
"No, I'm not, Kid. Right now I'm going for a ride. See you boys later."
"All right, Buck, just be careful," Larabee warned and watched the other man leave.
"Who was she, Chris?" Dunne asked.
"That's something you need to ask Buck, JD, but I'd leave him alone right now. Vin, think you boys can handle this place on your own?"
"Hell, Chris, the way it's been lately we could all go and leave the town ta watch the grass grow. Ain't much happenin'."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Larabee said and leaned his chair back once more. The town had been unnaturally quiet of late and the peacekeepers were taking advantage of it. He could feel JD watching him and sensed that the younger man was not ready to give up, but there would be no answers forthcoming from him.
"JD, seen Casey lately?" Tanner asked.
"Yeah, we went fishing out at the creek and..."
"She throw ya in ag'in?" the Texan asked with a grin.
"Ain't never thrown me in, Vin. She got lucky that one time when I wasn't expecting it, but I'm ready for her now."
"Don't bet on it, Kid, ladies have a way of surprising you when you least expect it," Larabee said from under his hat.
"I know how to handle Casey," Dunne stated with a little too much certainty.
"Oh, Kid, are ya in fer a rude awakenin'," Tanner told him.
"What's that mean."
"Ain't gonna tell ya. Casey'll letcha know when ya make a mistake!" the Texan advised as he poured a shot of whiskey into his glass. He knew the younger man had serious feelings for Casey Wells, and they all loved to tease him when they had the chance.
"Casey's really something, Vin. I thought all girls were afraid to put worms on a hook, but she does it and don't get all squeaky about doin' it."
"Good thing, Kid, otherwise ya might never catch anythin'," Tanner teased and smiled at the sheriff.
"I catch lots of fish!"
"Sure ya do, but who puts the worms on the hook, JD?"
"I put my own dang worm on the hooks, Vin!"
"I's jest teasin' ya, JD. Ain't nothin' wrong with bein' squeamish."
"With bein' what?"
"Squeamish..."
"Vin, you've been hangin around with Ezra too much," Larabee said.
He'd heard the conversation but his mind was on the past. Angela Tate was a real beauty and she'd stolen Buck Wilmington's heart. Could they get past the missing years and find happiness again, or was she the conniving bitch he thought she was. He remembered the last time he'd talked to Buck about her and how they'd nearly killed each other in the ensuing fight. Now it seemed she was back and she was setting her eyes on the ladies' man. No matter what Buck said, Chris Larabee would have followed him in order to protect him from his own weakness, and he was glad that Buck wanted him to come along. Standing, he quickly nodded to his two friends before making his way towards the doors. There were arrangements to be made and he'd make sure everything was ready for their departure once the sun came up.
Chris watched his friend closely as Buck saddled his big bay and tightened the cinch. It was evident that Wilmington hadn't slept well and Chris knew he would probably have sleepless nights until he confronted Angela Tate and his feelings for her. He knew what love was, had experienced it with Sarah and knew no matter what others said; the feelings could not be squashed. Buck had loved Angela Tate with everything he had and everything he was. Wilmington's reputation as a ladies' man stemmed from Tate's betrayal and his need to keep the women in his life at arm's length. Oh he'd sleep with them and respect them, but he never let anyone close again.
"Buck, are you sure you want to do this?" Larabee asked.
"No...no, Chris, I'm not, but I have to. I have to ask her why, you know. That's all I want to know is why she left like that."
"I understand, Buck, I just don't want to see you hurt again."
"Hurt! Chris, nothing ever hurt like that. I need to ask her why and then I'm going to come back here and buy the biggest bottle of red eye and forget Angela Tate ever existed or else I'm going to take her in my arms and show her what a stupid mistake she made."
"Tough decision," Larabee said with a cocky grin as he tried to lighten the rogue's somber mood.
"Yeah, but either way I'm glad you'll be there to watch my back or..."
"Kick your ass if I think you need it."
"Knew I could count on you, Chris. Are ya ready?"
"Yep, are you?"
"No, but that's not gonna stop me. Let's ride."
Chris followed the other man and knew the trip they were undertaking would bring closure to a part of their lives that neither talked much about. Buck had gone through hell after Angela left him and Chris thought he'd lost him more than once, but one day Wilmington had woken up and turned away from the anger and depression. They'd started the horse breeding ranch soon afterwards, but not in Midfield as they'd planned. Things had changed not long after they left Midfield and Chris met a young Irish woman and fallen head over heels in love. History seemed to repeat itself, but in a harsher way than what happened to Wilmington. Larabee had lost not just his wife, but his son as well in a fire set by Ella Gaines. The woman was still out there, somewhere and sometimes Chris felt as if the wanderlust would grab him and again he would seek her out and strangle her with his own hands.
Chris spotted Vin Tanner as the Texan returned from his patrol of the area to the south and knew the younger man would work with the others to keep things quiet and orderly in Four Corners. It would take him and Buck five days to reach their destination and Chris knew they would talk of old times when the nights grew chilly and darkness overtook the land.
"He's coming," Angela said, smiling at the woman seated at the table.
"Are you sure," Rosemary Clark asked.
"Oh, yes, I have his telegram and he's on his way here now. Oh, Rosie, it'll be so good to see him again. Do you think he still loves me?"
"What's not to love, Angela. You're still as beautiful as you ever were. Any man in his right mind would fall in love with you."
"Thank you, Rosie, I hope you're right."
"Is that other man coming with him?"
"I'm afraid so, but I don't think he'll be a problem. Buck and I fell in love back then and even Chris Larabee knew that. He may not have totally approved of me, but he would have done anything to make his friend happy."
"Are you sure you still love this man?"
"I hope so, Rosie. When I think of Buck my stomach feels like it's full of butterflies. He's everything a woman could want and I want him!" Angela said as she paced in front of the big window overlooking the front yard of her home.
"I know you want him, Angela, but there's a difference between wanting and loving someone. I mean I wanted Joseph, but do I love him? No...no I don't, but he belongs to me."
"And Buck Wilmington belongs to me, Rosie. Mark my words, Buck and I will be married as soon as he gets here."
"What makes you so sure he's not already married?"
"He would have said something in the wire, but he didn't. He just said he's on his way."
"Are you going to tell him you've been married?"
"I'll have to tell him about Robert, but there's no point in bringing Joseph and Brian into it. That's all in the past and he doesn't need to know about them or how they died," Angela turned towards her friend and smiled at the look on the woman's face. Rosemary Clark knew about her past, knew about her husbands and most of all knew how they died, yet she could not turn her in, because Rosemary had supplied the poison that put them into the ground.
"What about Larabee?"
"If he gets in the way I'll simply turn him over to you, Rosie. Think you can handle him?"
"Do you even have to ask, Angela? I've handled your 'problems' for years without a problem, haven't I?'
"Oh, yes, and I must say you're very neat about your work. The undertaker was very impressed with your generosity. Now, why don't we get the guest rooms ready before you go home?" The two women laughed as they made their way up the staircase, but the laughter was cold and held little mirth.
The first day on the trail passed with both men riding along in silence. Buck continued to relive the past as the beauty who'd captured his heart took control of his feelings once more. He knew a lot of time had passed since he'd seen Angela Tate, but something told him her beauty was as ageless as the sun hanging high in the sky. He'd often thought of her over the years and wondered what could have made her leave without so much as a goodbye. Their wedding day had dawned with such promise, the hangover dissipating before it had a chance to take hold. He'd danced across the floor and yelled at Larabee to wake up and smell the roses and Chris had told him to shut up or he'd make him eat the roses, thorns and all. He heard Pony come up beside him and turned to his friend.
"Buck, it's getting late. There's a creek up ahead."
"You wanna make camp?"
"Might as well. We've made a few miles today."
"All right, Pard, show me the way," Wilmington said and rode alongside his friend. It didn't take long to reach the creek and the two men quickly set up camp for the night. Buck quickly set out the bedrolls while Chris warmed a pan of bacon and beans. The coffee was strong and hot as he poured it into two cups and added a dollop of whiskey to each one.
"Thanks," Wilmington said as he sat on his bedroll and sipped the hardy liquid. "Nice touch, you always did make the best trail coffee."
"Figured it'd help us both sleep. No one's following us and I don't think any animals will bother us if we keep the fire going. Not much point in losing sleep for now," Larabee said as he dished up the food on two tin plates and passed one to his companion.
"Thanks...this brings back memories."
"Yes, it does," Larabee agreed leaning against a large boulder behind him.
"Remember the nights we used to ride down to Purgatorio after...after Angela disappeared?"
"I remember. We rode hard..."
"Not just the horses," Wilmington said with a grin.
"Never was one to go slow, Buck. I think a lot of them Mexican mamas hid their young women when they heard your war cry."
"Wasn't a war cry, Chris, was a love cry and them mamas were probably right to hide the innocent ones, but there were a lot of ladies who were happy to see us."
"Yes, there were. Remember the blond who came charging into our room that first night in town?"
"Booby?"
"That's what you kept calling her, but I think her real name was Bobbie."
"Don't matter what her name was, she was damn fine to look at."
"Sure was," Larabee said with a cocky grin.
"Hey, what happened after I passed out anyway? Was she disappointed?"
"Far from it," the blond said and toasted the other man with his coffee mug.
"You didn't? Why you sly fox. Booby was my date..."
"She was, but since you weren't up to it she just kind of..." Larabee couldn't help chuckling as Wilmington tried to look indignant. "It's okay, Buck, she didn't go away unappreciated. Woman was a bit of an exhibitionist."
"Sonofabitch! All this time I thought you were my friend!"
"I am, just did what any friend would do. More coffee?"
"No, but I'll take some of that whiskey you're so damn tight with!"
"Better watch it, Buck, seems I'm the only saloon in the area," Larabee said pouring the strong libation in both mugs. He took the empty plates and cleaned them off before settling back on his bedroll. The moon was shining brightly overhead as he added more wood to the fire and pulled the thin blanket up over his body. He looked across the fire and noticed that Wilmington seemed to be sleeping, the empty coffee mug hanging from his fingers. Settling back he closed his eyes and thought about the strange friendship he had with the other man.
Three days later the two friends drew to a stop several miles south of Midfield. They could have rode on through the encroaching darkness, but neither man wanted to take a chance on the horses taking a wrong step and landing in a gopher hole. Buck was growing increasingly impatient, but he knew there was no choice. The horses needed rest and so did their riders whether they admitted it or not.
The water hole was just that...a hole with very little water, but enough so both men could fill their canteens, but not enough to bathe in. Chris took care of the horses, ground tying them close to the water's edge and making sure there was plenty of grass for them to feed on. He watched as Buck worked at getting the camp set up and knew his friend was thinking about the woman waiting for him at the end of this trip.
"Chris, beans or," the ladies' man grinned as he spoke. "Beans?"
"How about...hard choice their Pard, but I think I'll take the beans," Larabee answered in the same easy-going voice his friend used.
"Any more of your special brand of coffee?" Wilmington asked.
"Yep, had it refilled in that little burg we passed through earlier."
"Little burg? There were only four buildings in the place. Ain't nothing changed about that place since the last time we rode through there."
"Nope, 'cept maybe the whole place should be condemned," Larabee told him. "Nothing wrong with the Red Eye though."
"Know whatcha mean," Wilmington said handing Larabee a plate and accepting a cup of 'coffee'. The two men settled down for the night and enjoyed the simple meal. By the time they cleaned up and added more wood to the fire, fatigue had taken over and a small groan escaped Buck's throat.
"Good thing Vin and JD are not here."
"Why?" the ladies' man asked.
"What would those two say about you moaning and groaning after a days' riding?"
"Ah, hell, can hear 'em both now...'gettin' old Bucklin'."
"Be lucky if they don't bring you one of those shawls Nettie Wells makes."
"You tell them and I'll just have to pull a Larabee on you."
"A what?" Chris asked as he watched the twinkling stars high overhead.
"A Larabee! You know one of those I'll just have to shoot ya!"
"Very funny, Pard. Go to sleep!" Larabee lit a cheroot and inhaled the smoke, exhaling slowly as he relaxed against the saddlebag he used as a pillow. He knew tomorrow was a day Buck was looking forward to, but something about Angela Tate had never set well with him. The woman seemed superficial, but there was nothing he could do except be there and look out for his friend.
"Chris, what do you think she's like now?"
"Who?" Larabee asked softly, knowing full well 'who' Wilmington was talking about.
"Angela. Do you think she's changed?"
"We all change, Buck, and it's been a lot of years since we saw her."
"I bet she's still beautiful. I bet her hair is still that same shade of fiery red and her eyes the color of the turbulent sea."
"You sound like a man in love, Buck," Larabee said.
"I am...I was. I don't know, Chris. I just know I need to see her again and maybe I'll have the answers I need."
"What will you do if you still love her, Buck?"
"I don't know...marry her I guess. Maybe. Won't know until I see her again, Chris."
"Just don't jump in with both feet, Buck. If you get there and feel like you're in love then step back and give yourself time to make sure it's real and not leftover feelings from long ago. I just don't want to see you make a mistake."
"I know, Chris, and that's why I'm glad you agreed to come with me. Remember the first time I cold-cocked you?"
"How could I forget? Stopped me from making the worst mistake of my life. That woman had something against Sarah."
"Yeah, she did and she was using you as payback. The bitch had you pretty done in when I got there. Thought I was too late when you waved the gun around," Wilmington said softly.
"You saved me from making a big mistake, Buck, and for that I'm grateful. My jaw wasn't at the time, but at least it healed pretty quickly."
"Thought for a few minutes I'd broken your jaw."
"Me too," Larabee said as they grew quiet once more. The sounds of the night included a far off coyote and several other wild animals. The smell of the burning wood and the soft breathing of both men were the only thing out of the ordinary in the area.
"Chris, do you remember the day Angela disappeared?"
"How could I forget? I nearly lost you that day, Buck."
"Came damn close, Chris. If you hadn't stopped me I'd probably have been buried that day. I just wasn't thinking...never do when I'm around Angela."
"I'll keep you honest, Buck."
"You always do. You know I'm as nervous as a virgin on her wedding night," the ladies' man admitted.
"Ah, hell, Buck, we're not gonna get much sleep tonight are we?"
"Probably not. Maybe we should just ride on."
"Not a smart idea, Buck. Too many places where a horse could break a leg."
"Yeah, I know...ain't keeping you awake am I?"
"Not yet," Larabee said as he took a long drag on the cheroot before throwing the last of it into the fire. He turned on his side and looked at the man lying across from him. Wilmington was staring into the flames as if lost in the past and Chris knew there was a lot going through his friend's mind. "Buck, don't think about it too much. What happened is in the past and if this is your chance at happiness then I'll be damn proud to stand by your side."
"Thanks, Chris, I just hope I'm not making a damn fool of myself."
"Well, won't be the first time, Pard," Larabee grinned in an effort to lighten the mood before lying back on his bedroll.
"Good night, Chris," Wilmington said.
"Night, Buck," the blond answered and pulled his blanket closer around his lean body.
Angela Tate sat on the porch swing and watched as two riders came towards her ranch house. The sun was going down and cast long shadows over the house and the well-kept grounds. She was pretty sure who the men were, but remained seated as she waited for them to come into her yard. Smiling as the duo drew to a stop in front of her, Angela raced down the two steps and threw herself into Wilmington's arms before he'd planted both feet on the ground.
"Oh, Buck, God I've missed you so much," the woman cried as she continued to hold tightly to the mustached man.
"I missed you too, Angela," Wilmington said a flurry of emotions colliding with each other as his body reacted to her nearness.
"I can't believe you're actually here, Buck. I didn't think you'd come."
"You asked me to, Angela. You remember Chris Larabee," Wilmington said, disentangling himself from the woman.
"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," she smiled brightly as she turned to the blond haired man standing between the two horses. "Hello, Chris, it's good to see you again."
"You too, Angela. Buck, I'll take care of the horses."
"Thanks, Chris," the ladies' man said as he held the woman in his arms.
"The barn is at the back of the house. Tell Manual I said to take good care of them." Angela watched the lean, black clad gunfighter for several seconds before turning her full attention to the man standing before her. "You haven't changed, Buck."
"I wouldn't say that Angela, but the years have been good to you. You're still the most beautiful lady to grace the west...east...north and south."
"Oh, Buck, you're still my silver tongued scoundrel. I can't tell you how many times I've cried myself to sleep because of you."
"Then why did you leave, Angela?" Wilmington asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Because I couldn't stand the thought of you being killed."
"Me? Who'd want to kill me back then?"
"My jilted ex fiancé."
"Whoa! Your what?" the ladies' man asked. "Thought you and me were getting married?"
"Oh, Buck, how can I explain?"
"Well, you can tell me who the hell this ex fiancé is...was when I get hold of him!"
"Robert's dead, Buck, and I'm finally free of the debt I owed him, that's why I sent for you." She reached up and pulled his head down into a kiss that deepened and sent a flash of hot desire tingling through Wilmington's body.
"A...Angela, God you still set me on fire," he said of her wanton behavior.
"I want y...you, Buck...so bad."
"I want you too, Angela, but not here...not now."
"Your body tells me different," Angela said as she slipped her tongue past his lips. She smiled as another groan escaped from her would-be lover.
"Believe me I want nothing more than to take you right here and now, but we can't...I can't. I need to know why, Angela, I deserve an explanation."
Angela pulled away, hiding the anger and disappointment as she stared out over the landscape. This was her home and it would be Wilmington's as well, no matter what else happened she would have this man her body craved. There were drugs she could purchase off the local Chinese apothecary that would see Wilmington in her bed. For now she would rely on his lust for her, because it was strongly evident in the way he'd kissed her, bruising her lips and brushing his tongue across her mouth.
"Who was he, Angela?"
"Someone I knew back home in St. Louis." Her answer was spoken softly and she knew it sounded pained, and she smiled inwardly at her own duplicity. She turned back to the mustached man and swallowed several times before meeting his eyes and letting him see the tears. "His name was Robert Stratton and he came over here from England, looking for a wife he said, but it wasn't a wife he wanted, Buck."
"What did he want?"
"He wanted to take me back to England and make me some kind of harlot, Buck. He already had a wife, but that didn't seem to matter to him. He told me the night before we were to sail that his wife was living at their house in town and that the country estate would be mine, but I couldn't do that, Buck. I couldn't be a concubine." She broke down crying, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs as he pulled her close. He didn't see the wicked gleam in her eyes as she continued with the tale of woe she'd concocted to make this man believe in her once more.
"What about your family? Surely they didn't agree with those arrangements?"
"They didn't agree with them, but Robert was blackmailing my father. Daddy had no choice but to go along with it."
"So how did you end up here?" Wilmington asked.
"Robert found me the night before you and I were to be wed. He forced me to go back to St. Louis with him and told me we would be wed or my father would pay the price with his business, reputation, and finally his life. Robert and I were married, but no one else knew he was already married in England. The night we were to set sail, Robert was involved in a disagreement over a poker game and one of the other gamblers killed him. My father arranged for me to obtain my things from the boat before it sailed and we were also given the strongbox that held the money from Robert's business dealings."
"Why didn't you contact me after Robert died? I would've understood," Wilmington assured her.
"I tried, Buck, but you and Chris had already left Midfield and I had no idea where to look for you."
"Damn, Chris and I settled near Eagle Bend..."
"Did you ever start that horse ranch of yours?"
"Yeah, we did, but..."
"What happened?" Angela asked, as the man grew quiet.
"It just didn't work out," Wilmington finally answered as the visions of the horrendous fire finally dissolved. "So what made you come back to Midfield?"
"It just seemed the right thing to do at the time. This place had some wonderful memories and it was the last place I saw you. I came back here hoping to find you and Chris well established as horse breeders, but they said you left long before I returned."
"How long have you been back here?"
"I came back six years ago and I sent out telegrams to surrounding towns asking after you, but they always came back unanswered until a few weeks ago."
"What happened a few weeks ago?"
"Some cattle drovers came through Midfield and they had an old newspaper clipping from a town called Four Corners."
"That's where I live now."
"I know. The paper said the town was celebrating the fourth of July thanks to seven peacekeepers. I couldn't believe it was you when I saw the picture. I felt like I'd finally come home and that's why I sent the telegram. I love you, Buck, I have since the first day I laid eyes on you and...and..."
Buck watched the tears as they slipped from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. His fingers touched against her right cheek and he felt her press into his touch.
"Oh, Buck, I'm so...so sorry."
"So am I, Angela..."
"Is it too late for us, Buck?"
"I don't know..."
"Please, Buck, give us a chance...give me a chance to show you how much I love you. I promise you won't be sorry..."
Chris had helped Manual with both horses and was impressed with the man's skills. After brushing Pony down he'd turned both animals over to the Mexican and walked back towards the front of the house. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but something about the woman's voice sent chills down his spine. Her explanation of why she ended up back in Midfield seemed lame and he knew he would send inquiries to St. Louis and find out what had happened to Robert Stratton. He heard Buck's voice, and recognized the hope in his softly spoken words as Angela Tate, or whatever her name was now, pleaded for him to give her a chance.
"Just say you'll stay with me and let me show you...give us a chance at the happiness we deserve."
"I'll stay for a while...see what tomorrow brings," Wilmington said and again found his lips on hers as if to release her now would be the worst thing he'd ever done in his life.
"God, Buck, I love you so much..."
Chris shivered as he heard her words and remembered the chill he'd felt when he first met Angela. The woman seemed like a cold fish to him, but it was not for him to dictate how Buck Wilmington lived his life. He thought about Ella Gaines and the heated words he'd had with Vin Tanner and knew that his role was now that of the Texan. He'd have to wait and watch, but no matter what he'd make damn sure Wilmington would not be hurt. Taking a deep breath, Chris walked quickly around the corner and tried not to look sheepish as he caught the two locked in a passionate embrace.
"Excuse me...didn't mean to interrupt..."
"Ah, hell, Chris," Wilmington said as he pulled away from the woman.
"I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't mean to monopolize Buck, but it's been so long and I can't seem to tear myself away from him."
"I can see that," Larabee said softly and dusted off his jeans.
"Oh my, where are my manners? You must be starving and I can imagine how thirsty you must be. Come into the house and I'll see if Carmon has dinner ready. She's a wonderful chef and was preparing roast beef with stew and some kind of specialty herb mixture she uses."
"Well, Chris, we seem to have a choice tonight. What'll it be, beans or beef?" Wilmington asked with a grin.
"Let me see...think I'll take the beef if that's all right with you and Angela," Larabee said and smiled at the slight coloring of his long time friend's cheeks.
"I would be honored, Chris," Angela said and stepped into the house. The long hallway was wide enough for the trio to walk side by side and Angela linked her arms though each of her guest's arms as they walked towards the back of the house.
Chris cringed inwardly at her touch, and glanced towards Wilmington who seemed enthralled by the attention she lavished on him. Chris knew Buck was a good judge of character and normally he would not interfere, but the gentle rogue seemed to be under her spell as they made it to the dining room. He watched as Angela gestured for Buck to sit on her right and for him to sit on the left. Buck, his usual manners coming to the front pulled back her chair and waited for her to sit down before taking his own seat.
"You really have a wonderful home here, Angela."
"Thank you, Buck, it suits me," the redhead said and smiled sweetly at the man she wanted.
"Yes, it certainly does," Wilmington said of the lavishly decorated dining room with the flowered wallpaper and highly polished furnishings. He looked up as a rotund woman entered the room and looked towards the woman of the house.
"Si, Carmon, you may serve dinner now." Angela smiled as the older woman nodded and hurried from the room. "Carmon is unable to speak, but she understands simple commands and gestures. She was born that way and chose to learn the skills of a chef. Her meals are simple, but oh, you can not imagine how they taste until you've had the pleasure of partaking of her culinary arts."
"I'm sure it'll be great," Wilmington said and smiled as she reached across the table and placed her hand on his. She turned her attention to the second man and smiled sweetly as she spoke.
"Chris, I had heard somewhere that you were married. How is your wife? Did she mind you coming here with Buck?"
"My wife's dead, Angela," Larabee stated and tried to hide the sorrow the words conjured up.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring up such bad memories."
Chris had the sense that she wasn't sorry at all and that her eyes seemed to glow with the news, but she quickly hid her emotions and reached for the bottle of wine. She offered it to him and he shook his head as she turned back to Wilmington. He knew Buck was feeling bad about her bringing up Sarah and Adam and Chris tried to assure his friend that he was okay.
"Ah, here's dinner," Angela said as Carmon pushed a trolley into the room.
Chris ate the meal in near silence as Angela and Buck talked about the past and her plans for the future. He knew Buck would have a hard time making his decision, but the gunfighter also understood the ladies' man was truly in love with the woman seated at the head of the table. Feeling as if he was intruding on the intimate meal, Chris finished his dessert and accepted a cup of coffee before standing up.
"I think I'll take this outside," Larabee said and turned towards the woman. "Thank you for dinner, Angela."
"You're welcome, Chris. When you're ready to turn in Carmon will show you to your room."
"I can sleep in the bunkhouse..."
"Nonsense. I won't hear of it. You're as much a guest here as Buck is and I won't hear of you sleeping with the hired hands when there's a perfectly good bed in the guestroom. I'll have Carmon turn down the blankets and make sure the room is ready when you are."
"Thank you," Larabee said and quickly retreated from the room.
"He's still as close mouthed about himself as he always was," Angela observed softly.
"He's been through more hell than any man deserves and then some, Angela. Chris ain't never been one to talk about himself much and it's best if you just let him come to you if and when he's ready."
"How did his wife die?" Angela asked.
"Murdered...burned to death while me and Chris were in Mexico selling horses. Came home to nothing but a shell and lost himself in a bottle for a long time after, but he's made it past all that."
"Did he find out who did it?"
"Not sure...seems to be two different stories on that, but somehow I think Ella Gaines told the truth more so than Cletus Fowler."
"Who is Ella Gaines?"
"A woman Chris met a long time ago. She was very possessive of him and had his wife and son killed so she could have him. The bitch came after him again about a year ago and that's when he found out about what she'd done!"
"I hope she's in jail...or did she hang?"
"No, she escaped after Chris was shot and seems to have disappeared."
"I'm so sorry. It sounds like he's been through hell."
"And then some," Wilmington finished and looked out the window as Larabee's dark shadow passed the room they were in.
"I am sorry, Buck, but I want to talk about us."
"What about us?" Wilmington asked as she pulled her chair closer to his.
"I want...I need you to know how much I love you...have always loved you."
"I wish..." Her hand covered his mouth, as she looked deep into his soft blue eyes.
"Don't tell me what you wish right now, Buck, just give me a chance to prove what I say to you. Will you do that for me?"
"I don't know, Angela. A lot of time's gone by."
"I know, but believe me, Buck, I know right down to the minute. I'm not some nervous virgin who's excited about taking the man she loves to her bed. I love you more than ever and I want to feel your arms around me. I want..."
"Sh, Angela, I want the same thing, but you have to think about your reputation."
"None of my hands will talk, Buck, and Carmon is loyal to me. So the only one we need worry about is Chris."
"Chris ain't one to talk about my business," Wilmington assured her.
"Then come to bed with me...love me tonight and we'll take the future as it comes."
"If that's what you really want," the ladies' man said.
"It is...it's something I've wanted for longer than I can remember." The two would-be lovers stood and walked out of the dining room together. She held tightly to him as they enter her bedroom and closed the door behind them. "Oh, Buck, I've waited for this for so long."
"So have I," Wilmington soothed as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the four-poster bed. The soft feather mattress sagged under their combined weight as the rogue gently placed her on the bed and his hands ran down the length of her frame.
"Buck...please...I need you so much!"
"I need you too, Darlin', believe me..."
"Oh, I do," she said as she felt his body shift slightly. She pulled his head down to hers and deepened the kiss she'd started earlier. Tonight she would make him love her and tomorrow he would be hers forever.
Chris sipped at the hot coffee as he stood looking out over the darkened landscape. He knew where Buck was spending the night and couldn't help feeling guilty at his thoughts. Something was definitely wrong with Angela Tate's story and Chris knew what he had to do. Come daybreak he'd ride into town and send a telegram to St. Louis. Hopefully he'd get the answers, whether good or bad, within a day or so. Taking a long draw on the Cheroot, the gunfighter remembered his own reactions when Vin Tanner had found out about Ella Gaines' duplicity. Chris had been angry with the Texan for digging into his business, but Larabee owed the tracker far more than he could ever repay.
Taking a deep breath, Chris walked slowly along the outside of the house. He heard the unmistakable sounds of lovemaking from an open window and hurried past. The sounds of the night filled the air and the far off cry of a coyote added to the slight chill that crept through him. No matter what happened Buck would be hurt, but there were two kinds of hurt. Chris would make damn sure if Angela Tate was even slightly like Ella Gaines she would not have the chance to harm one hair on Wilmington's head. He finished the Cheroot as he made it back to the front of the house and stamped it out before entering through the front door. He smiled as Carmon came out of the kitchen and gestured for him to follow her.
His bedroom was at the back of the house and he entered the bedroom to see the blankets folded back. A basin of hot water sat on the small table near the bed and a clean towel and face cloth hung over the back of a chair.
"Thank you," Larabee said and smiled as the older woman left the room. He quickly washed the trail dust from his face and hands before easing the boots and clothes from his body. The water was gritty with dirt and he knew there would be no point in washing the rest of his body.
'Maybe they have a bath house in town,' he thought as he sank back onto the bed. He hadn't meant to sleep, but the softness of the bed and the warmth of the blankets soon had him slipping towards sleep. The dreams that came bordered on nightmares as Ella Gaines' face floated in front of him, taunting him with plans for the future that included becoming Mrs. Christopher Larabee.
Buck awoke to the pleasant sensation of a warm body spooned up against him. The intoxicating scent of roses brought back the memories of earlier times and the wondrous night of lovemaking he'd shared with Angela Tate. She was as bold as he was in bed and they'd found many ways to pleasure each other through the early hours of the morning. Dawn was beginning to creep into the sky when they finally lay sated in each other's arms. He felt her soft breath against his arm and smiled as he pulled her tight. He nuzzled the thick locks of vibrant red hair and luxuriated in the velvety softness of her body. His left hand traveled down her shoulder and along her stomach, stopping at her navel where he continued to lavish his attention on her.
"Buck, if you continue in this manner we'll never leave this bed again."
"If that's meant to stop me, Darlin', it ain't gonna happen."
"I would like nothing more than to stay here in your arms, but this is a working ranch and since I own it I have to..."
"Don't you have a foreman?"
"I do, but he takes orders from me. Besides, I think I smell fresh coffee and bacon."
"I smell only roses..."
"Buck, aren't you hungry?"
"Oh yeah!" The rogue said nibbling at the nape of her neck. He felt her push back against him and chuckled softly as she continued to berate him.
"Buck, you're insatiable."
"Hmm..."
"Oh, God," Angela said and turned towards the ladies' man. She soon found herself lost in the touch of his hands and the brush of his lips against her skin.
Chris woke before dawn and stretched his lean frame under the blankets. The fatigue of days of travel and subsequent nightmares left him feeling worse than the night before; yet he knew he would not be getting any more sleep. Sitting up and sliding his legs over the edge, Chris rubbed at tired eyes and reached for his pants. He dressed quickly and silently walked out of the bedroom. No one else was up yet as he made his way towards the front door. Once outside he lit a cheroot and sat on the top step of the porch and sighed contentedly. He loved the night and took solace in the quiet that was missing during the hubbub that made up the daylight hours.
He looked towards the house as the sound of movement from within caught his attention. If it were Wilmington he'd join Chris, but if it was anyone else he didn't really want the company of strangers. By the time he finished his cheroot much of the stiffness had left his body and he stood up once more. The door behind him opened and he turned to see Carmon standing there with a cup of coffee in her hands. Accepting the cup he smiled and thanked the woman before settling back on the step once more.
Buck reluctantly released the woman, fell back against the pillows and groaned as she slid out of the bed. He knew this woman, had explored every contour of her body throughout the night and knew how it felt to be well and truly loved. Her fingers danced along his bare chest, causing him to groan once more as she tweaked the hairs on his chest.
"Damn, Woman," he said and sighed, as she stood naked before him.
"I take it you enjoyed yourself?"
"You could say that," Wilmington told her.
"Buck, you and I are meant to be together."
"After last night I think you're probably right, but why don't we take things slow and make sure this is what we both want."
"I already know, Buck. Can't you see that? Do you think I'm some kind of wanton woman who would take any man to her bed and make love so easily."
"No, Darlin', I don't think that way at all. It's just that you have so much going for you and I have nothing. People would think I'm marrying you for your money."
"Does that really matter, Buck? I mean you and I know how we feel. Why let others dictate our actions. I know we'll be happy and God knows what the lovemaking will be like after last night."
"I know, Angela, and I want to marry..."
"Are you proposing to me, Buck?"
"I...I am, but I don't want your answer right away. I want you to think about what it would mean to you. I mean the ranch would still be yours, but most people will come to think of me as the one running it..."
"And you will be as any good husband should."
"That's easy to say right now, but when that day comes how will you feel. I don't want you resenting ever marrying me. I don't want our love ruined because someone asked me a question about the ranch instead of coming to you."
"I love you, Buck Wilmington, and I want to marry you and have children with you..."
"Children," the gentle rogue whispered longingly.
"You do want children don't you?"
"Y...yeah, I do."
"Well, so do I and we're both not getting any younger."
"Maybe not, but you are even more beautiful today than you were when I first met you."
"Thank you, now why don't we get some breakfast and see to running our ranch?"
"Sounds good, bet Chris is already looking at those horses you told me about."
"Does he still like to break them?"
"Yeah, think he always will," Wilmington said and reached for the clothes she handed him. They dressed in silence and he pulled her to him once more. "I could get used to this."
"So could I," Angela said as they exited the room together. They made their way to the kitchen and found Chris seated at the small table set against the window. "Good morning, Chris."
"Morning, Angela...Buck," Larabee said with a grin.
"Hey, Chris, you been up long?"
"Long enough," Larabee teased and saw the smile form on his long time friend's face as he sat next to him on the bench.
"Buck, would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, please, Angela," the rogue said and met his friend's gaze. He could see the teasing light in the gunfighter's green eyes and knew they'd be talking about his plans before long. He'd been by Chris's side when he married Sarah Connelly and now that role would be reversed.
"I just need to speak with Manual and I'll be right back," Angela said, pouring strong black coffee into a cup and placing it in front of the ladies' man. She placed a quick kiss on his cheek, smiled at Larabee and hurried out of the room.
"Chris?"
"Yes, Buck?"
"Is this how you felt with Sarah...ah hell, Pard I'm sorry. It's just, well, I can't seem to think straight. She's something..."
"That she is," Larabee said of the cold-eyed woman who seemed to have Wilmington wrapped around her finger. There was no way he could stand by and see his friend hurt, but until he had evidence Buck would not believe him.
"I'm thinking about settling down for good, Chris. Angela wants a family and so do I, but neither one of us is that young anymore."
"Feeling your age, Buck?"
"Now more than ever. I see Vin and JD and I think about what we were like at that age."
"Hell, yeah, I feel it more and more..."
"I think we all do at some point in time, just don't make a mistake..."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Wilmington asked, frowning as he met Larabee's cool gaze.
"Just don't make a snap decision until you're sure you're ready."
"Chris, you sound like you don't trust her."
"I wouldn't go that far, Buck, I just want you to think before you jump in with both feet," Larabee explained.
"That's real good coming from you. Angela ain't Ella, Chris..."
"Never said she was!" Larabee stated angrily and placed his empty cup on the table.
"Well it sure sounds like..."
"Is something wrong?" the red haired woman asked as she re-entered the room.
"No, nothing's wrong. Nothing at all," Wilmington snapped as the blond stood up to leave.
Without a word Chris stood and nodded to his friend before leaving the room. Angela moved to sit beside the mustached man and frowned at the anger written across his face. Something had happened between the two men and she knew it had to do with her. She sensed that Larabee disliked her and it she could find a way to use it to turn Wilmington away from that friendship. He didn't need reminders of his past and they didn't need Larabee's interference. The gunfighter had unwittingly just given her the means to drive a wedge between them.
"Chris doesn't like me very much does he?"
"Doesn't matter what Chris thinks, Angela, only matters what I think right now and all I can think about is you."
"But you and Chris have been friends for a long time, Buck. I don't want to come between you. Friends are important."
"Yeah, they are, but they also need to realize a man's gotta make his own choices."
"I didn't mean to be pushy this morning."
"You weren't, believe me, Darlin', when it comes to being pushy I wrote the book," Wilmington assured her and reached for his coffee. He knew he'd hurt Larabee with his comment about Ella Gaines and he'd apologize for it when Larabee came back inside, but for now his attention was on the woman beside him.
"Maybe you should talk to him."
"I will...later," Wilmington said and drew her into a passionate embrace.
Chris knew his long time friend had spoken without thinking, lashing out in much the same way Chris had done with Vin Tanner. Striding around the corner of the house he made his way towards the barn and hurried inside. Pony whinnied as he entered and Chris smiled as he patted the animal's neck.
"You up for a ride, Boy?" he asked, reaching for the saddle blanket hanging on the partition between the stalls. It didn't take long to make sure the saddle was properly in place and lead Pony out of the barn. He turned towards the house as Wilmington came towards him.
"Chris, where are you going?"
"Thought I'd take a ride into Midfield, see if they have a place to get a bath."
"Want some company?" the ladies' man asked as Angela Tate joined them.
"No, thanks anyway. I'm sure you guys have things to talk about. I'll be back by supper time if that's okay?"
"That'll be fine," Angela said, anxious to have the dark haired man to herself for the day.
"Is there anything you need in town, Angela?" Larabee asked courteously.
"I don't think so, Chris, but thanks for offering."
"You're welcome," Larabee said as he climbed into the saddle.
"Chris," Wilmington said as he grabbed the reins and stopped the gunfighter from leaving. Their eyes locked and Buck swallowed painfully before speaking. "I didn't mean..."
"I know that, Buck," Larabee assured him, smiling as he turned the horse away and rode out of the yard unaware of the cold eyes that stared after him. The landscape quickly changed as he rode away from the ranch and he found the tension easing from tired muscles. Chris didn't mind company, but he'd always enjoyed the solitude of riding alone across unfamiliar territory. He let Pony set the pace and relaxed as the sun made its journey across an azure blue sky as puffy white clouds slowly trekked across the horizon. In the distance he spotted a herd of wild mustang and smiled at the grace and beauty as they moved unerringly towards the mountains. Sighing contentedly he wondered if he was wrong about Angela Tate and was jealous of his friend's newfound happiness. He hoped she was everything Buck remembered, but there was no way he could sit back and relax until he knew her story was true.
'There's only one way to know for sure,' he thought, gripping the reins tightly as he continued towards Midfield and the answers he needed.
Buck smiled down at the woman lying on the blanket beside the gurgling stream of water. Once Chris had ridden out of sight she'd asked him to accompany her to one of the line shacks near the creek and he'd readily agreed. Angela appeared half an hour later with a picnic hamper in her hand and a bottle of wine in the other, suggesting that they eat while they worked.
Buck ran his fingers through the silken strands of red hair and breathed deeply of the scent that was hers alone. They'd made love beside the creek and she suggested a quick swim before eating lunch. Now sated, with food and wine, the two lovers lay curled up beside each other.
"This place is beautiful," Wilmington observed as he looked at the hundred foot trees that surrounded them. The sun peeked through the shade of the leaves and bathed them in warmth as a light breeze tickled their skin.
"It is, isn't it? I've always loved this part of the country and I think that's why I came back here to live. That and the hope that someday you would return as well." She looked into the clear blue eyes and knew this man loved her and she craved the touch of his hands on her body. She would own him before they were through and he would stay at her side in the running of this ranch.
"I'm here, Darlin', and right now there's no place I'd rather be," Wilmington said and reached for the glass of wine. He tipped it to her lips before sipping from the same glass and setting it down above her head once more.
"Oh, Buck, I've waited so long for this and I want everything to be perfect for us."
"I'm looking at perfection," Wilmington whispered as he nuzzled against her cheek. He heard her sigh as she pressed against the length of his body and entwined her legs with his.
"No one has ever called me perfection, Buck..."
"Well, I was hoping I was the only one who can see how beautiful you really are, Angela. I've never seen anyone with so much energy...so much love...and I want you..."
"You have me..."
"No, I mean I want you with me forever. Will you marry me, Angela?"
"Oh, Buck, are you sure?"
"Yes," Wilmington said dreamily. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
"Yes, Buck, God yes, I'll marry you!"
"Good," the rogue said and kissed her again. "Name the date..."
"Shouldn't we wait?"
"What for? I want to marry you as soon as possible."
"Well, today is Thursday and it'll take a couple of days to make the arrangements. How about Sunday?"
"Sounds good to me."
"Would you like to get married in the church or at the ranch?"
"How about right here?"
"Here?" Angela asked incredulously.
"Why not, it's perfect."
"Yes, it is, but what if it rains?"
"It won't. Nothing is going to ruin our day."
"What about Chris?"
"Chris will be fine, Angela. He knows how I feel about you."
"He doesn't seem to like me."
"I wouldn't say that. I think Chris just wants to make sure I don't make the same mistakes he has. He may not always show it, but he cares about his friends and doesn't want to see us hurt."
"I could never hurt you, Buck."
"I know that, Darlin'," Wilmington said and felt her hands reach out and touch his chest.
Angela smiled inwardly as she touched the coarse dark hair on Wilmington's chest. The wine had been laced with a drug given to her by Rosemary Clark and she knew this man was under the influence of its effects. It would not hurt him, but he would be more susceptible to her touch and she knew it had relaxed him to the point where he had asked her to marry him. She had enough of the drug to keep him under her control until after they were married and then she would use it whenever she thought it necessary. Drugs were something she had easy access to and her friend would make sure she had what she needed.
"I hope that smile is for me, Angela," Wilmington said.
"Who else would it be for, Buck. Make love to me."
"Here? Now? Again?"
"Hmm, hmm," she whispered and soon felt his lips on hers. This was the life she wanted and no one would be allowed to interfere.
The town really hadn't changed except that the few buildings still standing were in need of repair. The church at the edge of town was the only building that seemed to have weathered the years without damage. Chris wondered if Midfield had its own version of Josiah Sanchez. To his right was the saloon, batwing doors hanging slightly askew as the wind blew into the dusty interior. On his left and a little further down the street was the jail and he could see the man whose job it was to uphold the law. The sheriff sat on a chair, tilted back, feet straight out in front of him, and his hat pulled forward over his eyes.
Chris continued along, passing the saloon and a small restaurant before coming to a stop before the jail.
"What can I do fer ya, Mister?" the sheriff asked without moving a muscle.
"Need to send a telegram."
"Telegraph office is part of the hotel. You in town long?"
"Reckon that's my business."
"My town...my business. Helps me keep the rabble out."
"Not much here to attract rabble," Larabee said with a grin as the other man looked up.
"Well, sweet Jesus, is that you, Chris?"
"Sure is. How have you been Evan?"
"I've been getting along pretty good. Sure didn't expect to see you back in town. Buy ya a drink?"
"Sounds good. Just need to send that telegram first."
"All right...hey where's Wilmington? Ain't he with ya?" Evan Rawlings asked curiously.
"He's out at the Tate place."
"Ah, I should have known. He still sweet on the lady?"
"Seems like it. I'll meet you at the saloon as soon as I've sent the telegram."
"Sounds good, Chris."
Larabee continued towards the ramshackle building that held the sign denoting it as the Midfield Hotel and Restaurant. He quickly dismounted and looped Pony's reins over the rail before walking into the hotel. The interior was elegantly furnished and cleaned to polished perfection. There were no patrons present, but there was a woman standing behind a counter and she smiled as he walked towards her.
"Can I help you, Sir?"
"Need to send a telegram."
"Certainly," the woman said as she slid a paper and quill pen across the counter to him. She watched as he wrote quickly and handed it across to her once more.
"How much?" Larabee asked as she finished reading the missive. Her answer was curt and he handed her the money she asked for and watched as she sent the telegram.
"It may take some time, Mr..."
"Larabee," the blond answered. "I'll be staying at the Tate place. If an answer comes ask one of the men to ride out there and I'll make it worth his while."
"Of course, Mr. Larabee, I hope you enjoy your stay."
"Thank you," Larabee said and turned to leave. He didn't see the woman crumple up the paper and throw it into the trash, nor did he feel the cold calculating eyes that followed his every move.
Rosemary Clark knew what she had to do as the gunfighter left the hotel. She'd sent the message, but not to St. Louis as he requested. She knew he wouldn't be receiving an answer to his query about the circumstances surrounding Robert Stratton's death. Gathering her long skirts she turned and walked to the back room where she kept some of her personal items, including a colt pistol belonging to her husband. Checking the gun she was satisfied that it was loaded and hurried to find the one man she relied on at times like this.
Chris made his way to the saloon and pushed the doors open. He spotted the sheriff at the back and quickly entered as he gazed left to right and back again. The interior was like most saloons, dull and dusty, but there was also the familiar smell of whiskey and beer and Chris wanted both. He hurried to the table and without even thinking about it took the seat that provided him with a good view of the front entrance, stairs, and the windows.
"Whiskey still your choice of drink, Chris?"
"Yep," Larabee answered as a saloon girl came over and took their orders. She came back with a two glasses and a bottle and the blond smiled at her as he reached for the Red Eye. "Leave the bottle."
"You heard him, Maddie," Rawlings said and smiled at the woman before she left. "So, how have things been with you, Chris? Last I heard you'd settled down and started that horse ranch."
"Didn't work out," Larabee answered irritably.
"Sorry to hear that. I thought you'd have a damn good chance of making it. Never knew a man who could tell a good horse just by lookin' at him like you could."
Chris poured a second shot and downed it before looking at the man seated across from him. Evan Rawlings had been a friend to him and Buck and he didn't want to insult him, but there were things Chris kept to himself and didn't talk about. Breeding horses was too much of a reminder of all he'd lost and something he discussed with a select few.
"I'm sorry, Chris. Didn't mean to pry."
"It's just not something I talk about, Evan."
"Understood. So what are you and Buck up to now?"
"We help keep the peace in a little place called Four Corners."
"Four Corners! Hell, don't tell me you're one of them Magnificent Seven Jock Steele wrote about?"
"I wouldn't exactly call us magnificent, but we get the job done," Larabee answered.
"Well I'll be damned. If that don't beat all! I never would've believed Buck Wilmington and Chris Larabee upholdin' the law. Seems to me ya both spent a fair amount of time keeping the flies company in my jail."
"Yeah, times have changed, Evan."
"Glad to hear it. Whatever happened to that woman you were seeing? What was her name? Gant...Grant...Ella Grant...no Ella Gaines? Pretty thing...did you ever marry her?"
"No," the blond answered simply, fighting back the anger and resentment he felt rising like hot sour bile in his throat.
"Sorry, prying again. Anyway, Chris it's good to see you, but I've got a job to do. Tell Buck I said hello when ya get back to the Tate place."
"Will do. Thanks for the whiskey," Larabee told him.
"Any time."
Chris sat back, took a cheroot from his pocket and lit it. He was the only patron and was again grateful for the solitude. Knowing that he had a long hot ride ahead of him, Chris sipped the whiskey and enjoyed his smoke before standing and hurrying out of the saloon. He walked to the hotel and stepped through the doors before searching for the woman he'd spoken to earlier. A man stood behind the counter and he hurried over.
"Can I help you, Mister?"
"Sent a telegram a couple of hours ago and wondered if there'd been a reply yet."
"There hasn't been anything come through since Rosie left."
"Thanks, I'll check back in a few days."
"Sure thing."
Chris turned away and went back out into the late afternoon sunshine. He moved towards Pony and checked the saddle before mounting up and heading out of town. As he passed the last building he noticed the dark clouds moving across the sky and knew they were going to have a storm before long. The wind had picked up as well, but it would still be some time before the storm hit them and he knew he could take cover somewhere if it grew too bad. The first hour passed without seeing anyone, but he spotted a rider coming towards him from the right and he watched the newcomer with a gunslinger's instincts. As the rider drew abreast of him, Chris's right hand rested on the butt of his colt. The rider looked to be around fifteen and Chris relaxed slightly as he watched the smile cross the young man's face.
"Hey, Mister, have you seen a young woman come ridin' this way?"
"No."
"Damn, she's my sister and I gotta tell her Ma's waitin' on her."
"She ain't been this way," Larabee answered, finding himself relaxing as the other man seemed to look all around and stretch his neck as if looking around Chris. "Hope you find her."
"Damn if that ain't her comin'," the newcomer said and Chris twisted slightly in the saddle.
Chris Larabee cursed his stupidity at letting his guard down so easily. The boy's laughter reached his ears at the same time the sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the landscape. Chris felt the bullet impact with his right leg and ignored the fiery trail of pain as Pony bolted back the way they came. He gripped the reins and cursed again as the boy pursued him. Chris had little time to think as another rider came into view. He recognized the woman from town just as he pulled his gun from its holster. He turned to fire on the first foe, but the woman's shot caught him on the left side and the intensity of the pain was such that the gun slipped from his fingers even as his body was thrown from Pony's back. He landed hard on the ground, his head impacting with a rock as he rolled down a small hillock before slamming into a tree. He had no idea how long he lay there, but forced his eyes open. An angel stood over him; one he recognized and suddenly realized his angel was a devil in disguise as she used the butt of a rifle to render him unconscious.
Rosemary Clark stared down at the unconscious gunfighter and smiled as she touched his neck. The man was still alive, but he was bleeding from two bullet wounds and from a deep laceration above his right eye. She quickly gestured for her accomplice to come closer and smiled as the twenty-two year old man with the face and gaunt body of a boy stood beside her. She saw that he'd managed to catch Chris Larabee's horse and knew what she had to do.
"Well done, Ethan, now help me get him on his horse and out to my place."
"Are you sure your place is safe, Miss Rosemary? What about your husband?"
"Joseph does not interfere in my business, Ethan. He knows what I do is what keeps us living so well off. I believe you understand about that...after all you have an easy job as long as you do as you're told. Now help me get him up and secured to his saddle before someone comes along."
"Yes, Ma'am," Ethan Turner agreed and reached for Larabee's upper body. Most people who saw him thought he would be blown away by a strong breeze, but Ethan had worked hard to gain the strength often lacking in men his size. With Rosemary's help he had Larabee on his feet and they managed to carry him to where Pony was ground tied. "Miss Rosemary, it might be easier if you go around the horse and pull him while I lift him. Then we just need to tie his hands and feet to the saddle."
"All right, Ethan, are you sure you can handle him from this side?"
"Yes, Ma'am, I'm a lot stronger than folks think."
"I can see that," the Clark woman said as she hurried to the opposite side. Pony shied away at the strange hands and the strong smell of blood, but he could not move very far with the tight rein. She reached across the saddle and grabbed Larabee's arms as Turner began to heft him onto the animal's back. Larabee's dead weight soon rested on Pony's back and she quickly wrapped rope around his wrists and tightened the bounds until she had him tied to the stirrups. She looked across to see Ethan putting the finishing touches on Larabee's ankles and quickly mounted her own big bay.
"Ethan, you ride on ahead with Larabee and take him to the line shack at the north corner of my property. Take the back roads and make sure no one sees you. I'll stop by the house and get the things I need to take care of our guest.
"Yes, Ma'am," Turner said and grabbed Pony's reins before mounting his own animal. He turned them onto an old track before heading towards the north corner at a steady pace.
Rosemary watched as Turner disappeared and finally turned her horse towards her friend's house. She knew she was taking a chance on kidnapping Chris Larabee, but there was no way she could have hidden the details of Angela Tate's background. She needed to get to Angela and they would have to come up with a reason for Larabee's sudden disappearance. Riding towards the Tate ranch, Rosemary began to formulate a plan.
Buck sighed contentedly and wished they could stay by the creek, but there seemed to be a storm brewing. He watched the woman as she packed the remnants of their picnic lunch back into the hamper while he folded the blanket and tucked it in on top of the plates and cutlery.
"Think maybe we'd best get a move on," Wilmington said as he placed the hamper in the back of the buggy.
"Why, Buck, are you afraid of getting wet?"
"Now, Darlin', that's something I've never been afraid of especially when in the company of a beautiful woman."
"Careful, Buck, I might think you're a ladies' man with a woman in every creek," Angela whispered coyly.
"Only one woman and one creek I want, Angela," Wilmington said seriously as he helped her into the seat and climbed up beside her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and took the reins as they started back towards the ranch.
"Buck, thank you so much for today."
"I think I should be the one thanking you, Angela. If you hadn't suggested a picnic I probably would've ridden into town to find Chris."
"Do you think he's back yet?"
"I don't know. Chris, well he can get kind of broody, but he's a great friend, you know?"
"What is it about Chris that makes you take up for him so much?"
"I don't know, Darlin', but see me and Chris have always been close, even when he pushed me away I knew he didn't mean it. We just naturally seem to find each other when the time's right. Like what happened in Four Corners."
"That town you live in?"
"That's right. See, I was there just passing through and havin' a little fun with Blossom..."
"Blossom?" Angela asked, frowning at the man beside her.
"Yeah, pretty woman, but she don't hold a candle to you. Well anyway, I was with her when I sort of fell out of the window..."
"Out of a window?" Tate asked, jealousy evident in her tone.
"Well, yeah, Blossom's husband was banging on the door only it wasn't him. It was a man named Vin Tanner from Texas...never met a finer tracker. The man could track a polar bear through a blizzard and never lose his tracks."
"Sounds like you admire Vin Tanner."
"I do, anyway, Chris was there and offered me a job...didn't pay much, but I couldn't say no to him. Ended up with seven of us goin' against Anderson and his Ghosts of the Confederacy. When we got back to Four Corners Judge Travis offered us the job of keeping the peace in the town and we've been there ever since. The rest of us turned to Chris and sort of made him the man in charge, whether he realizes it or not. Chris is just a natural born leader and has the instincts to go with it. Only problem is those instincts don't always kick in. He's ignored them a few times and it usually ends up with him being hurt."
"Buck, do you think he'll be okay with our getting married?"
"Oh, I think so, especially since he's gonna be my best man," Wilmington told her as the first drops of rain fell on them. "Looks like you were right about getting wet, Darlin'."
Ethan Turner heard the approaching buggy and pulled deeper into the thicket to await their passing. He recognized the woman, but had never seen the other man before. Rosemary had told him Angela Tate was going to be married and that her beau was staying at her place and he had to bite his lip from laughing as the buggy went past. He jumped as a sound escaped his captive's throat and quickly ripped a piece of cloth from his shirt. Without dismounting, Ethan reached for the rain soaked blond head and quickly tied the material around the man's mouth. He lifted Larabee's head and smiled as another groan escaped the injured man.
"Don't worry, Larabee, Miss Rosemary'll fix ya right up. Ya just gotta be quiet a little longer!" Turner gripped the reins and hurried the horses along as the rain began to fall at a steady pace.
Buck frowned as he passed a thick copse of trees and tried to see what had caught his attention, but whatever was out there lost its curious aspect as the skies opened up. The deluge that had threatened manifested itself as lightening flashed across the sky and the deafening crescendo of thunder shook their surroundings.
"Damn!" Wilmington cursed as he kept his hands tightly controlling the reins of the nervous horses, the movement behind him quickly forgotten as the torrential rain soaked them to the skin in less than five seconds.
The rain roused the injured man and he tried to lift his head, but succeeded only in setting off an explosion inside his skull. He shifted, and groaned as his body erupted in an agony that left him no doubt that he was in trouble. Opening his eyes, Chris tried to keep the rain from his eyes, but it was a lesson in futility. The water poured down over his body and his hair stuck to his forehead making it hard to see anything. His arms and legs were tied to Pony's saddle and he could barely make out a second horse in front of him.
'What the hell?' Larabee thought and realized there was something wrapped tightly across his mouth and keeping him from making a sound. He frowned, wincing as the movement pulled on the gash on his forehead and tried to make sense of where he was and why he was in this position. The last thing he remembered was having a drink with Evan Rawlings, but everything after that was a blur of unconnected memories. He thought he'd ridden out of town, but couldn't even be sure of that, as the pounding in his head grew worse. He couldn't think, not with the rippling agony in his left side that sent shooting fires up through his nerves and twisted his gut in a churning sea of bile. Again and again he swallowed, praying that he wouldn't vomit and choke because of the cloth.
'Don't be sick...don't be sick...don't be sick,' he repeated as they rode through the violent storm. Consciousness quickly left him as each jarring impact of Pony's hoofs with the ground sent daggers through his side and leg.
Rosemary pulled to a stop in front of her friend's house and quickly dismounted. The storm had grown worse, but she knew she had to tell her friend what had happened. She hurried up the steps and onto the porch before entering the house. Wanting to keep her news from everyone, but her friend she smiled as Carmon came towards her. The woman had always been afraid of her and she loved watching her shy away whenever she was in the room.
"Is Angela home?" Cameron's head shook quickly before she headed back to the kitchen. Shaking the rain from her hair Rosemary walked towards the guest bedroom where she kept several articles of clothing. Angela also kept clothing at her place in case they were caught in weather like this.
Buck drew the buggy to a stop in front of the house and handed the reins to Manual before helping his sodden fiancé out of her seat. He wrapped his arms around her as they ran up the steps and onto the porch as a thin streak of lightning struck the hundred-foot tree on the edge of the front yard.
"This is one hell of a storm!"
"Yes, it is. I haven't seen one like this since I came home."
"Looks like you got company," Wilmington said nodding at the woman walking towards them.
"Rosemary, how nice of you to come," Angela said as the woman joined them.
"I was on my way home and got caught in the storm. I didn't know you had company."
"Rosemary Clark, this is Buck Wilmington..."
"Buck Wilmington as in the best looking stud this side of the ocean," Rosemary said and smiled at the mustached man.
"Well, hell, thank you, Ma'am," the ladies' man said of the bold woman standing before him.
"This certainly is a pleasure and Angela, you were absolutely right. He is indeed a handsome man," Clark said.
"I know, and it's a good thing you're already married or I might be more than a little jealous of the way you're looking at my fiancé," Angela told her friend.
"Yes, well, I believe you should both get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death of cold."
"Buck, I'll ask Carmon to make some coffee while you change," Angela said and smiled as the gentle rogue kissed her firmly on the lips before heading for the room they shared. Once he disappeared she turned her attention to her friend. "What's going on, Rosie?"
"I need to speak to you privately! Get changed and I'll meet you in the parlor. Just make sure your beau is not within earshot!"
"All right. Just give me a few minutes to change." Angela hurried away from her friend and quickly spoke to Carmon before heading for her bedroom.
Ethan Turner drew the horses to a halt in front of the line shack, quickly dismounted, and threw the reins over the hitching rail. The ground was slippery and he landed hard on his back as he fell to the muddy ground. Cursing his luck he made it to his feet and walked the few feet to the shack. Shoving open the door, he quickly looked around the interior and was glad the Clark's kept the shack well stocked. Making sure the door would stay open he turned back to the storm swept landscape and the captive tied to the horse. Reaching down he grabbed hold of Larabee's drenched hair and lifted his head until they were nose to nose. The green eyes blinked rapidly and a sharp cry escaped the slack lips.
"All right, Larabee, here's the deal! I can leave ya tied ta yer horse while I go inside outta the rain or I can release ya and we get ya inside. Ya fight me and I swear I'll teach ya a lesson ya won't soon forget. Now ya just stay put until I cut ya loose!" Turner warned and pulled a knife from his scabbard. He cut the ropes holding his prisoner to the saddle and dumped him unceremoniously into the mud.
As his body impacted the slick ground, Chris Larabee knew he was in the hands of a sadist who didn't give a damn how much pain he caused. The gunfighter tried to come to his feet, but a kick to his right leg sent him back to the ground where he curled into a tight ball in an effort to deflect the vicious kick sent towards his midsection.
"Told ya not ta try anything. Now, I'm gonna get ya on yer feet and we'll get us both inside outta this rain. Ya fight me and I'd just as soon tie ya out here in the rain until the fight's washed outta ya! Ya got that?" Turner asked and pulled the cloth from around his captive's mouth.
"...fuck you!"
"Ain't gonna take no time for yer shit, Larabee, and it's time ya realized I'm in charge here. Now get on yer feet and get inside!"
Chris knew he was in no shape to fight his captor, but he wasn't going down without a fight. Forcing his shaking legs underneath him he managed to get on his feet, but his right leg was in no shape to hold him and he found himself on his knees again. He felt the man grab his arms and was soon forced to his feet and shoved through the open door.
"All right, Larabee, now here's what we're gonna do! Yer gonna get outta them filthy clothes and I'm gonna fix ya a nice bed on the floor until Miss Rosemary gets out here. Ain't much chance of that happenin' in the next couple of hours."
"Go t...to hell!"
"Suit yerself, Larabee, but I was figurin' you were a smart man and well if ya just want to sit there in those dirty, wet clothes and let them two bullet wounds get infected then that's just fine by me, but," he looked at the blond and smiled. "If Miss Rosemary sees yer legs infected she just might decide ta cut the damn thing off. She'd do it right fine too...saw it a couple of times. So, what's it gonna be?"
Chris glared at the other man for several long seconds before reluctantly giving in. Right now he felt weaker than a newborn calf and he knew part of the dizziness was caused by blood loss and pain. With dogged determination, Chris forced himself to stand and leaned heavily against the wall. The pain was a constant now and mixed with his anger became a volatile explosion waiting to happen.
"Ain't much ta ya is there?"
"Put down the gun and I'll show you!" Larabee warned and wondered at the strength he saw in the other man's eyes.
"No...no, I don't think that's a wise idea right now. Ain't gonna take a chance on Miss Rosemary being angry at me. So, here's what we're gonna do. First, get outta them wet clothes like I told ya to. Then ya'll step outside and wash the mud off ya and then I got me a set of manacles just made for yer wrists and ankles. Once I got ya fitted with them ya can rest...if yer real good I might even give ya some water and beans."
"All heart!" Larabee sneered, but understood he had little choice, but to obey while Turner held the gun.
"Ain't I though," Turner said, grinning as Larabee began removing his bloodied clothing from his body.
Chris bit his lip as he tried to ride out the pain running rampant in his body, but he wasn't entirely successful in keeping it to himself. Turner's laughter grated on his nerves as Chris removed his boots and socks and cried out as his right foot hit the floor and took the brunt of his weight.
"All right, looks like yer ready! Get on outside and wash that shit off. I'll be watching ya the whole time!"
Chris braced his left arm tight against the wound in his side as he limped towards the door. His head was pounding again and he knew he was probably suffering the effects of a concussion along with the other injuries he'd incurred in his meeting with this man. Once outside the rain seemed to revitalize his spirit and anger drove him to turn on his captor, but the gun in the man's hand was trained at his gut and he knew there was only one way this fight could end.
"Smart man, Larabee," Turner said as he watched the gunfighter move out into the rain.
Chris stood in the torrential downpour as biting needles of rain struck his bare skin. The water washed away the dirt and blood and cooled his body until he stood shivering in front of the door. Turner motioned for him to step inside and Chris noted he always stood just out of his reach. Larabee was surprised when the man pointed to a rough but clean piece of material on the table and quickly dried off. Standing in nothing but his drawers he stared at his nemesis and wished he wore long johns like Buck Wilmington, but he'd always hated the way they seemed to hold his body captive.
"All right, Larabee. If you look at the table you'll see a pair of manacles. Ya take one and wrap it around your right wrist and the other one ya fasten to the hook in the floor in the corner. Come on now get a move on 'cause I'd just as soon put ya down myself!"
Chris seethed inwardly, but felt his energy giving out as he picked up the manacles and placed one around his wrist and walked to the corner where he fastened the second manacle.
"Very good," Turner sneered and threw the second set of manacles at the injured blond. "These go around your ankles."
Again Chris's anger flared, but there was so much pain in his body that he could do little more than glare at his hated foe. He quickly placed the cuffs around his ankle and found the room spinning as his vision blurred. The room took on a decidedly slanted look as the blond's body sagged towards the mattress in the corner. Heavy lids closed over dangerously unfocused green eyes as Larabee gave into the cloying darkness of unconsciousness.
"Ya ain't so tough!" Turner said as he threw a blanket haphazardly over the injured prisoner. Turning away from his prisoner, Ethan whistled as he placed the gun on the table out of Larabee's reach and walked out into the rain to wash away the dirt encrusting his own clothing.
"I'll join you in a minute, Buck. Rosemary is a good friend and she's having problems with her husband. I'm the only one she trusts to talk about it."
"I hope it's nothing serious, Angela."
"No, not really. He just drinks a lot and leaves her in a bind sometimes. We usually work things out until Joseph does something else. I wish she'd consider leaving him, but she does love him and who am I to judge."
"You're a friend and that says a lot. I'm going to check with Manual and see if Chris came back."
"Isn't he here?"
"No, I checked the house but no one's seen him."
"Don't worry too much, Buck. Chris probably saw the storm brewing and decided he'd stay in town until it passed."
"Probably, but I'd sure like to know. Carmon's got coffee ready, but I told her we'd be a few minutes yet," Wilmington said.
"How did you get her to understand?" Tate asked with a grin.
"I'm a man of many talents, Darlin', and women simply understand me."
"Yes, well, I hope I'm the only one who really enjoys your very special talents from now on."
"Oh, believe me you are," Wilmington said before kissing her and grabbing his hat. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
"I'll be here." She watched him leave and hurried to meet her friend in the parlor. One look at the other woman told her something was wrong.
"Where is Buck?"
"He's gone to see if Chris has returned from town. What's going on?"
"Larabee came into the hotel and asked to send a telegram. It concerned you and your deceased husband."
"Damn it! I knew he couldn't be trusted! Where is he now?"
"I tore up the telegram after he left and got Ethan to help me set up an ambush. He should have Larabee at the line shack in the north section of my ranch."
"Thank you, Rosie, you always take care of me."
"We take care of each other, Angela. Now you'll need to come up with a reason for Larabee's disappearance!"
"I'll come up with something."
"Good, because Buck seems to be the type to always worry about others. He'll want to know why Larabee left."
"Especially since he expected Chris to be his best man."
"Yes, well, that's not going to happen. As soon as this storm's over I'm going to ride out to the line shack. I'll need bandages, carbolic acid and just about anything else you have to help me care for him. You do still want him alive?"
"For now. I've got everything you need including laudanum and sleeping draughts. There are plenty of bandages and other stuff in the storage cellar."
"I'll take them when I leave. Any idea what you'll tell Buck?"
"I was thinking I could tell him he came to you and had you send a message to Four Corners. I'm sure they planned on letting the others know they arrived safe and sound. Perhaps you could say he received an answer while still in town and he left in a hurry. Maybe he even told you where he was going. That would take the pressure off for a while."
"I could do that, but for now let's leave things as they are and let Buck think Larabee stayed in town for the night."
"All right...I think I hear him coming," Angela said and hurried to meet him at the door. "Oh, Buck, you're soaked to the skin again. Why don't you go change and meet us in the kitchen?"
"Sounds good."
"Did Manual see Chris?"
"No, he hasn't come back yet."
"I wouldn't worry too much, Buck. Chris probably found one of the saloon girls and is curled up with her as we speak."
"I hope so, Angela, because if Chris is out in this he's in trouble!"
"Rosie," Tate said and turned to her friend.
"Yes," Clark said.
"Did you see a man dressed all in black while you were in town?"
"Blond...good looking?"
"Yes," Angela answered and nodded slightly for her to continue.
"As a matter of fact he came into the hotel and wanted to send a telegram."
"You saw Chris?" Wilmington asked.
"Not only did I see him, but I spoke to him and sent a telegram for him."
"Where to?"
"A place called Four Corners," Rosemary answered.
"Four Corners? Why would he send a message there?"
"All the message said was that you arrived safely and his name."
"Did he say where he was going after that?"
"I believe he went to have a drink with Sheriff Rawlings..."
"Evan Rawlings?"
"Yes, oh I forgot you and Chris knew Evan. He's still doing a wonderful job of taking care of us," Angela said. "Buck, it sounds to me like Chris and Evan probably got talking about old times and Chris decided to stay in town!"
"Maybe...we'll see."
"There's nothing you can do about it until the storm ends, Buck, so there's no sense worrying until we find out for sure what's happened. Now come on and I'll help you out of those clothes."
"Darlin', if you're gonna help me out of them I doubt if we'll be joining Mrs. Clark for supper."
"Please, call me Rosie. After all if you're marrying my best friend we should be on a first name basis."
"Rosie it is," Wilmington said and smiled as the two women took an arm each and walked him towards the back of the house.
Chris watched through hooded eyes as his captor moved around the line shack. The man had a fire going and was warming something in a pot, but the smell only added to his churning discomfort. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious, but the storm seemed to have abated. The blanket covering him was rough, but clean and he also realized his wounds had been tended while he'd been blissfully unaware of his surroundings. He didn't want to alert the other man of his return to consciousness, but he had to move as the pain intensified and he bit his lip to stop the groan from escaping.
"Well, yer finally awake. Ya'll be glad to know I've already cleaned yer wounds, but Miss Rosie got some work to do when she gets here. The bullet in yer leg's not that deep, but that one in yer side's gonna be a real bitch to get to. I got some beans warmed up...ya want some?"
"No!" Larabee spat as he tried to move, but found his body held immobile by the manacles, which seemed to have been tightened while he slept.
"Figure ya'd be easier ta handle if ya can't move and it'll keep ya from bleedin' out before Miss Rosie gets here."
"Why the hell are ya doin' this?" Larabee ground out as his captor stood over him.
"Money. Miss Rosie pays real well for my services. Yer not the first one ta fall for my innocent baby face."
"What does she want with me?"
"It ain't Miss Rosie that wants ya out of the way..."
"Angela Tate?" Larabee asked simply. He didn't trust the woman and somehow she'd found out he was trying to find out about her.
"Yep, she don't want you ruinin' her plans. Miss Rosie and her are real close and they'd do anything for each other."
"Then why didn't she just have you kill me?"
"Well now, that's something I'm not real sure on. I think it has something ta do with that man Angela Tate's marrying. They figure if Buck starts looking for you they'll need something ta convince him to stay around. With you as a hostage she'll be able to keep him in line."
"Buck ain't stupid! He'll figure this out!"
"Maybe...maybe not. Don't really matter since you're here as a hostage, if they need ta use ya. Now, do ya want some beans?"
"No," Larabee answered and looked at the bucket on the table.
"Ya want some water?"
Larabee nodded and soon wished he'd refused it as his captor knelt beside him and lifted his head. The glass was placed to his lips and he started drinking, but when he tried to pull away he found his head held fast and the liquid being poured quickly down his throat. Chris was forced to swallow again and again, choking and sputtering as the movement jarred his injuries and sent streaks of agonizing pain through his skull. He had no idea how much water was in the glass, but it felt as if he'd swallowed a river as his head was released and he tried to turn on his side. The water rose in his throat and streamed down his cheek as his stomach rebelled from the influx of liquid. Before he could relax, his head was lifted again and something pressed against his lips. He fought not to open his mouth as his nemesis laughed at his weakness and finally cried out as a hand pressed against the wound in his left side. The cry was quickly cut off as more water was poured down his throat and he again tried to swallow. Again and again his enemy continued the water torture without giving the blond a chance for respite. Briefly Chris wondered if it was possible to drown a person by forcing water down their throats at an alarming rate, but his head was soon released and again he vomited the water before losing consciousness once more.
Ethan Turner smiled as he looked at the gunfighter and placed the empty glass on the table. He knew Larabee had come close to choking to death on the water he poured down his throat, but he'd stopped just short of killing him. He'd seen it done before and knew several men who swore you could kill a man by drowning him with a simple bucket of water.
"Oh, we're going to have such fun, Larabee," Turner vowed and walked back to the table. He sat in the chair and watched his prisoner. He'd been in this position before, but the others had been weaklings and easily subdued. A man like Chris Larabee, a well-known gunfighter, was something new for him and he was going to break him before he killed him.
Turner served up a bowl of beans and sat back at the table once more. He studied the captive and knew the blankets hid more than the two bullet wounds. Larabee's impact with the ground had left a myriad of bruises and cuts that would need to be tended by Rosemary Clark. There were deep bruises on the man's lower back and he knew the blond would be in pain if he stood up. The wound over his right eye had swollen and discolored the skin on that side of his face. Smiling, Turner knew this man could still take him apart if given the chance, but he was not about to give the gunfighter that chance. Moving towards the captive he checked the bonds and was pleased to find them still as tight as ever.
Angela woke as dawn was cutting through the night sky and she eased away from Wilmington. Standing naked beside the bed she watched as he shifted, but finally relaxed in sleep once more. She turned away from the bed and grabbed her robe before walking out of the room. She knocked softly on Rosemary's door and smiled as the woman opened it and motioned her inside.
"I was hoping I'd see you before I left. The supplies are on my horse and I'll be riding out to the line shack as soon as I'm done here."
"Do you have everything you need?"
"Yes, I checked the saddle bags myself and you know I keep that particular shack well stocked."
"I do indeed. Now that we've set the stage for the ruse about Larabee you'll have to go into town and set things up there before Buck decides to check Chris's whereabouts himself."
"Can you keep him here today?"
"Oh, I believe I can, Rosie. If not I'll simply resort to one of those powders you gave me."
"Good, because I'll need to make sure Rawlings thinks Larabee left town right after they had their drink. I'll talk to Joseph and make sure he knows how to cover for me."
"Will Joseph do as you tell him?"
"Of course...Joseph Clark is and always will be, under my thumb," Rosemary Clark smiled knowingly at her friend.
"Yes, and if I need your help to keep Buck under my thumb..."
"All you have to do is ask," Clark said and the two women hugged before walking out of the room and to the front door.
"Thank you, Rosie."
"No thank are needed, Angela. I want you to be happy and if this man gives you that than I will be only too glad to help out." Rosemary Clark hurried towards the waiting horse and quickly mounted up.
Angela leaned against the door and watched as her friend rode out of sight. There were many secrets they shared and this added to their friendship and the loyalty they continued to cherish. How many men had died because they'd stumbled onto those secrets, she didn't know, but there were more than she could count on both hands. She heard a sound behind her and pushed the door just as Wilmington pulled on it. She stumbled into his arms and smiled as he held her for several long seconds.
"Now this is more like it," the gentle rogue said as her scent seemed to intoxicate him.
"Hmm, I do love the feel of your strong arms, Buck, but I thought you were still sleeping."
"I was, but I thought I heard a rider and wanted to see if it was Chris."
"No, I'm afraid not. Rosie just left for home."
"Is she okay?"
"Oh yes, she'll be fine now. Why don't you and I go back to bed and I'll have Carmon serve breakfast there?"
"I'd love to, Angela, but I want to ride into town and see if Chris has turned up."
"Well, you're not leaving on an empty stomach, Buck. I'll have Carmon make biscuits, eggs, bacon, and coffee."
"Angela..."
"I won't hear of it, Buck. Come on...Chris is a big boy and can look after himself."
"Yes...he can, but sometimes trouble has a way of finding him when he least expects it," Wilmington said and missed the look that flashed across her face.
'Little do you know,' she thought with a wry grin. She led him back to their room and watched as he finished getting dressed. She needed to keep Buck at the ranch today and she would do whatever was necessary to see that he didn't leave. The powders would make him sleep, but those would be used only as a last resort.
"What are you thinking about, Angela?" Wilmington asked as he finished buttoning his shirt.
"I was thinking about how happy you've made me."
"It didn't take much from me..."
"Oh really?" Tate asked. "It took a marriage proposal..."
"And a yes answer from the most beautiful woman to ever grace the earth we stand on."
"Oh, Buck, you do know how to make a woman blush. Now why don't we go eat before you leave," Tate suggested.
"All right, but first I want to tell Manual to saddle my horse. I want to leave right after breakfast."
"Hmm," she said, kissing him once more. "Don't be long."
"I won't," Wilmington promised and hurried out of the room.
Angela walked to her dresser and opened the small chest nestled at the back of the top drawer. She took one of the envelopes and placed it inside the pocket sewn into the bodice of her dress. She would only use it as a last resort, but she hoped her other plan would work and keep Buck at her side. Sighing heavily she strode towards the kitchen and took a seat as Carmon served her a cup of hot coffee.
Buck patted his stomach and looked at the older woman who'd served up a wonderful breakfast. "I couldn't eat another bite."
"Are you sure? I could have Carmon serve another..."
"No...no, believe me I can't. I don't think my horse will be as appreciative as I am of Carmon's cooking. He's gonna bitch all the way ta Midfield and back."
"Oh, Buck, that big bay of yours could easily carry you to town and back no matter how much you ate. Come on, I'll walk you to the barn."
"Gonna kiss me goodbye too?"
"Only if you kiss me back..."
"Ain't your back I want to kiss, Darlin'," Wilmington assured her as they linked arms and walked out through the kitchen door. They reached the barn where Manual had Buck's horse saddled and ready to go. He took the reins and still held Angela's arm as they walked around to the front of the house. Once there he kissed her and watched her walk up the three steps to the porch before she turned and smiled at him.
"Oh, Buck...NOOO!" she screamed as her boot caught on the step and she found herself falling towards the ground.
"Angela!" Wilmington shouted and moved to catch her, but was not in time as her head struck the ground and she lay still. He gently turned her onto her back and cradled her body in his arms as he called for help. A livid bruise was forming on the left side of her head as he lifted her into his arms and stood up. He kicked open the door just as Manual came around the corner.
"Madre De Dios! What has happened?"
"She fell. Get Carmon and make her understand that I need water and cloths and ice if she has it. Send someone into Midfield for the doctor!"
"Si, Senior, it will be done!"
Buck carried the unconscious woman to the room they'd shared and laid her on the bed. He quickly removed her boots and heard a soft moan from the woman as he reached up to touch her cheek.
"Easy, Angela, just lay still."
"B...Buck, what happened? My head hurts!"
"You fell, Darlin, and hit your head."
"Fell? How? I d...don't remember."
"That's okay. I sent someone for the doc and he'll make sure you're okay."
"Doc's in t...town...you w...were going to t...town. W...worried about C...Chris!"
"I'll go into town later, Angela, right now it's you I'm worried about. Carmon's bringing some cloths and ice and we'll see how big that bump is."
"Stay...stay with m...me?"
"I'm not going anywhere, Darlin'," Wilmington vowed as her eyes began to close once more. He sat by her bed as Carmon brought in water and towels and helped him undress her. Once he'd bathed the wound he sat back, glad that it hadn't broken the skin and yet, Buck knew head wounds were not something to fool around with. Sighing tiredly he sat back and waited for the doctor to come out to the ranch.
The sun had reached its zenith as Rosemary Clark drew her horse to a halt outside the line shack. Chris Larabee was not the first unwilling guest to be held here and he probably would not be the last. She grabbed the saddlebags just as the door opened and Ethan Turner stepped out.
"Thought I heard someone ride up."
"How is Larabee?"
"He's a mess. Think he's probably gettin' a fever too."
"That's to be expected. Did you clean him up last night?" Clark asked as she handed the heavy saddlebags to her cohort.
"Sure did...made him strip down to his drawers and stand in the rain. Cleaned him up real good."
"I'm sure," Clark said, smiling as she stepped through the door. Larabee was lying on his back in one corner of the room and she could see Turner had managed to get him restrained in that position. She quickly knelt beside him and felt for a pulse at his neck. Her early years had been spent working in a hospital in St Louis and now she was using much of what she'd learned there. Pulling back the blanket she winced at the colorful bruises and contusions covering his upper body. Pressing against one especially deep bruise she felt the lean body flinch away from her touch.
"He's got one hell of a bruise on his back too. Musta hit it hard!"
"I'll check that after. Right now I need to take care of those bullet wounds. Get me some hot water and there's a bottle of whiskey in one of those saddlebags."
"Good, I'm thirsty!"
"The whiskey's not for you...at least not yet. I need to clean out the wounds and I only have a little carbolic with me. I have Laudanum and we'll use that to keep him controllable. Did he try anything?"
"Hell yeah, but he took the worst of it."
"Is that where this boot shaped bruise came from?"
"Had ta show 'im who's in charge. Took the lesson pretty hard though," Turner said with a wry grin.
"Get my things, Ethan, and from now on you leave Larabee alone unless I tell you otherwise!" Clark warned and knew the man would do as she ordered. She heard Turner move away and watched as Larabee fought to return to consciousness. Even with the bruises and swelling she still thought he was a handsome man and she ran her fingers along his jaw. His hands clenched tightly as he fought the restraints and Rosemary was glad he couldn't move. The eyelids finally fluttered open and the sea green eyes glared dangerously at her.
"W...what the h...hell is this?" He gasped as she touched his wounded leg.
"You should have kept your nose out of our business, Chris. It would've been so much simpler if you had."
"Y...you're the...that woman from t...the hotel!"
"That's right and I don't think you'll be getting an answer to your telegram I'm afraid!"
"You B...bitch! Let me out of these!"
"I'm afraid that's out of the question. Right now I'm going to remove the bullets from your side and leg and I think you'll be happy you're restrained when I start digging around in there. The leg's not so bad, but well that side is another story altogether. The way I see it you should be grateful that I have received some medical training, although it has been a while since I've had to remove bullets."
"D...don't touch me!"
"I don't think you're in any position to stop me. Ah, Ethan, put the saddlebags on the table and pour some hot water into the bowl. Oh add a little carbolic and then I want you to clean the area surrounding the wounds. I'll be back as soon as I have my instruments ready!"
Chris watched her stand with a mixture of trepidation and fear, but he didn't let it show on his face as Turner came towards him. The man's face was filled with malicious glee as he set the basin down beside the makeshift bed.
"Get a...way from me!" Larabee ground out, but knew there was nothing he could do to stop Turner or the woman. He tried to shift away, but the other man clamped down on his leg and Chris fought to keep from crying out as Turner lifted a cloth from the water and carbolic mixture and placed it against the bullet wound. The liquid burned like molten lava and Chris bucked against the ropes and manacles holding him to the floor.
"That gotcher attention!" Turner spat and smiled as he scrubbed Larabee's right thigh.
"S...sick fuckin' bastard!" Larabee groaned as the woman knelt opposite Turner. Chris saw her place several instruments to her left before she looked at him.
"Now, I can do this and let you scream or I can give you some Laudanum and it should ease the pain. Your choice!"
"Don't d...do me a...any fuckin' favors!" Larabee snarled.
"Suit yourself. Ethan, are you done there?"
"Think so," Turner said and lifted the blood soaked cloth. "Damn, I made it bleed again."
"Clean the one on his side while I see to this one!"
"Leave it!" the blond ordered, but the weakness of his voice had no effect on his tormentors.
"I can't have you dying on us just yet, Chris. You see we need to make sure Buck thinks you went back to Four Corners and once we're sure of that then I'll find a way to dispose of you!"
"Buck won't b...believe you!"
"Oh, I think he will, especially once I show him the telegram you received. You couldn't stay long enough to tell him and you left a message with me to give to Buck."
"W...won't believe..."
"Sure he will, but right now I don't have time to argue with you. It's time to do this!"
Chris groaned as he felt the scalpel press against the wound in his leg. He bit his bottom lip, drawing blood even as Turner roughly cleaned the wound in his side. The gunfighter had been hurt before...been shot, beaten, stabbed and any number of other wounds, but he couldn't remember ever hurting like this. It felt as if the woman was using an ax to tear open his flesh and pull out the smashed piece of lead and there was nothing he could do to stop her or the man grinding a wet cloth against his ravaged flesh. He fought the excruciating touch and gasped in relief as he heard the sound of a bullet hit the basin.
"That's the easy one!" Clark said and smiled as Chris Larabee's rasping curse reached her ears. "So, you're still with me! I've never had a man stay awake through an extraction like that."
"Bet he won't like the next one none!" Turner said with a grin as he shifted out of the woman's way.
"Would you like to reconsider the Laudanum, Chris?"
"G...go to h...hell...Ahhhh!" the cry of pain escaped from his throat as the blade was pressed against his side. He thought he knew what pain was, but never before could he remember it being so maliciously enjoyed. He heard Turner's cackling laughter as he fought against the restraints. His breathing became labored as the woman drove the scalpel deeper into his ravaged skin. He felt the edges of darkness begin to spread across his vision as his eyes dropped closed and he gave in to his body's need for relief.
"Looks like ya were too much for him, Miss Rosemary," Turner explained as Larabee went limp under her touch. He heard the woman curse as she continued to probe for the bullet and again wondered why they were even bothering. Sooner or later Chris Larabee was going to die anyway, so why prolong his life. He looked at the woman as she concentrated on the task at hand and was glad he wasn't the one under her touch.
Buck watched as Angela Tate moved slightly on the bed he'd shared with her since arriving. The woman's face was still unmarked by the passing of years, yet there was something about her that struck him as deadly. Shaking his head he pushed back this new train of thought as her eyelids flickered and finally lifted revealing green eyes.
"B...Buck?"
"I'm right here, Darlin', how do you feel?"
"My head hurts."
"I know...doc's on the way."
"Doc? Why?" Angela forced the words through her throat and kept up the pretense that she really was in pain. She knew Wilmington well enough to know he would stay beside her if he thought something was truly wrong and right now she needed him by her side.
"You hit your head, Angela," Wilmington said as he brushed the hair back from her face.
"I...I did?"
"Yeah, had me worried."
"D...don't be," Tate said and reached for his hand.
"Easier said than done when the woman I love and intend to marry is hurtin'," Wilmington said as the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears. He turned to see an older man with silver streaked black hair enter the room.
"Hello, I'm Doc Morton. How'd this happen?" the physician asked as he looked at the vivid bruise on the woman's face.
"She fell and hit her head," the worried rogue explained as he continued to hold the woman's hand in his own.
"Angela, are you hurt anywhere else?" Richard Morton asked.
"No, just my head," the woman said and closed her eyes against the bright light seeping through the window.
"Who are you?" Morton asked.
"Buck Wilmington. Angela and me are getting married!"
"Is that right?"
"Yes, we are," Tate said.
"Well, congratulations. Now Mr. Wilmington..."
"Buck!"
"Buck, please close those curtains so the sunlight doesn't cause more pain than she's already in," the doctor ordered. "Now, Angela, let's take a look at you!"
Angela kept her eyes closed and moaned when the doctor probed the swollen area. It was tender, but she knew how to play it up and heard the concern in Wilmington's voice as he returned to her side and asked about her condition. She opened her eyes slightly and squinted at the two men before letting her gaze come to rest on her fiancé.
"Buck, I'm fine. Just a headache."
"A big one from the sounds of it," Morton said as he sat back in the chair and reached for a packet of powder in his bag. He turned to the other man and handed him the medicine. "Make sure Carmon mixes this. She knows the proportions and how often Angela can have it."
"I don't need..."
"Hush up now, Darlin', Doc says you need it then you're gonna take it," Wilmington chastised lightly.
"Well, I can see you're in good hands so I'll leave you to it. Buck, make sure she stays in bed for at least twenty-four hours. Don't let her fool you into letting her up!"
"I won't, Doc."
Angela smiled inwardly as she watched the two men walk towards the door. Morton had ordered twenty-four hours of bed rest and she now had the means to keep Wilmington from riding into Midfield in search of Chris Larabee. She hoped it was enough time for Rosemary Clark to put their plan in motion. If not she had a hostage and would use him to keep her lover in line. She quickly lost the smile as her fiancé returned to her side and reached for her hand.
"Carmon's mixing some of the powder for you, Darlin'."
"I don't really need it, but if it'll make you feel better I'll drink it," Tate explained as she looked into worried blue eyes.
"You always did worry about others before yourself," Wilmington said and kissed her cheek.
"Buck, I know you're worried about, Chris. I'm fine and Carmon will be here so why don't you ride into town with doc and find out where he is?"
"I'm not leaving you like this, Angela. Like you said, Chris is a big boy and can look after himself. You go ahead and sleep and I'll be here when you wake up."
"Hmm," Angela mumbled and closed her eyes as a thrill raced up and down her spine. She had this man where she wanted him and nothing was going to take him away from her. She remained quiet for several long minutes before opening her eyes and reaching for the handsome rogue. "Buck, lie down with me."
"I don't think..."
"Sh, trust me, please. I just need to feel your strong arms around me," Tate said as Carmon brought the powder mixture and placed it on the table before leaving without a word.
"You drink all of this and I'll lie down with you."
"Under the blankets?"
"I...I..."
"Please, Buck, I need to feel you near me," the woman cajoled and was glad when the ladies' man acquiesced. She drank the warm tea and watched as Wilmington removed his clothing and slid under the blankets. She moved closer to him and smiled as he placed his arm under his head as she maneuvered her body until she was spooned up against him. She felt his hand on her shoulder and gently eased it down to her breast before sighing contentedly. This was how her life should be; lying next to the man she loved, without any cares in the world.
"Angela?"
"Hmm," she mumbled as if half asleep.
"You know I love you."
"I know."
"Would you be willing to give all this up and move to Four Corners if I asked you too?"
"I'd go anywhere with you, Buck," Tate answered and fought to keep the irritation out of her voice. There was no way she would leave her home, and she would not allow Buck Wilmington to leave either. This was their destiny and she would see that he stayed at her side...willingly or not.
"That's good, Darlin', but we'll talk about it again when you're not hurt," the gentle rogue said and closed his eyes as he breathed in the scent of his lover, unaware of the anger that burned through her mind.
Rosemary Clark looked down at the captive and knew he would be trouble if she allowed him any freedom. They'd moved him to the bed and she still heard Turner's angered grumbling, but knew the man would do anything she asked as long as she kept him supplied with funds. She ran her eyes over Larabee's battered body and knew she'd done all she could for now. The bullet she'd removed from his side had caused heavy bleeding and they would have to get him drinking before long or she would have to resort to a feeding tube to keep him hydrated. She'd inserted them before and knew of the dangers involved, but would use it if she had to. Her attention returned to the blond as she pulled the blanket up over him and sat in the chair next to the bed and watched his eyes open and fight to focus.
"So, you've decided to rejoin us. How do you feel?" She asked as she checked the bonds holding him to the bedposts.
"Get these fucking things off me!"
"I'm afraid that's not possible and if you don't start speaking in a respectable voice I'll have Ethan gag you once more."
"Bitch!"
"Ethan, would you bring me one of the strips of cloth?"
"Sure thing," Turner said and moved to the table.
"Fuckin' kill you!"
"I'm sure you'd like to try, but I'm afraid I can't give you an opportunity to see if you can do that. Now, are you going to keep a civil tongue in your head or do I have Ethan silence you?"
"Let me do it!" Turner said as he pressed against Larabee's wounded side.
"Ethan, control yourself and keep your hands off him unless I tell you! Understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am, just don't 'preciate anyone bad mouthin' ya!"
"Thank you, Ethan, it's nice to know there are still gentlemen in this world. Now, Chris, there are a few things you need to understand before you answer my question about the gag. First, I need to keep you alive and am willing to do anything to keep you that way. Second, if keeping you alive means forcing a tube down your throat and feeding you that way I will do it. I don't really want to, but it's something that can easily be done, but is very uncomfortable for you. Third, there are several degrees to keeping you alive and not all of them are pleasant. I'm afraid Ethan is not as appreciative of good looking men as I am and I would be saddened if I allow him to mark such a handsome face before the swelling goes down. I have done an admirable job of putting stitches in your head and would not like to do so again. I know you think I'm cruel..."
"Cold bitch!" Larabee groaned as a hand clamped onto the wound on his right thigh and tried to twist out of her grasp, but succeeded only in awakening the monstrous pain throughout his body. "Fuckin' bitch!"
"That's it! Gag him, Ethan!"
"My pleasure, Ma'am!"
"D...don't fuckin' touch me!" Larabee ground out before a cloth was shoved brutally into his mouth and he was forced to breathe through his nose. His anger increased and he twisted his head back and forth as the woman placed a hand on each cheek and held him fast.
"Now that I have your undivided attention I'll say this once more and this time I want you to think about your friend Wilmington. Angela loves him very much and they are going to be married whether you like it or not!"
'No!' Chris's anger increased and he tried to breathe past the mounting waves of nausea. The woman's face was mere inches from his own and her scent assaulted his nostrils as he fought to control his anger and pain.
"You're alive right now because she doesn't want to hurt him, but if it comes down to it, Angela will use you to keep her fiancé in line. I'm sure Buck Wilmington would not appreciate one of your fingers as a warning! Do you?" Clark asked as she reached for the index finger on his left hand and bent it back.
Chris cried out behind the gag as he felt the digit break and knew the woman before him was a spawn of hell. She inflicted pain for the sake of seeing a man squirm and enjoyed the control she thought she had over him. He knew she would do anything to keep him in line and right now there was nothing much he could do to stop her. If he was going to get out of this alive, and right now the chance of that was very slim, he would have to play his cards differently and let her think she had control.
'Who the fuck are you trying to kid, Larabee? She does have control!' He thought as she released his hand and stared at him once more.
"I see I have your attention now, Chris. I do don't I?"
Larabee nodded and felt the room around him waver as the pain in his skull increased. His breathing was troubled as he tried to keep from being sick.
"Very well. Would you like me to remove the gag?" She smiled as he nodded slightly and reached for the gag.
Chris knew he was going to be sick and there was no way to move as his stomach gave up its meager contents and landed on the sheets around him and the woman's hands. He heard her curse, but didn't hear anything except a loud scream and finally understood it was coming from him as something slammed into his stomach and darkness reached out to enfold him in its welcoming arms.
PHOENIX
Michael Biehn Archive
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The characters belong to various production/film/TV companies. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
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Author's Chapter Notes: Thanks to Kay for asking me to write a story for the zine...it just didn't want to quit. Thanks as always to Marti and Antoinette for the wonderful beta job. You guys have been great. Feedback is welcome, flames are quickly extinguished. |