Lest my fury come forth like fire,
and burn that none can quench it.Jeremiah 4:4
They all stared at Vin, but Buck spoke first. "I don't know, Vin. I'm pretty sure the fella who shot her got hit, he was one of them who went down. Her shot."
"She got a shot off, all right," Vin said. "But that don't mean she killed him. I think it was Averill's shot that got her, anyways, the way I saw it."
Buck shook his head. "I didn't see... I saw her get hit, I don't remember the rest of the details." He was angry now, at both himself and the man inside the cell.
"I saw at least four of 'em get away," Vin said quietly. By now, Ezra and JD had gotten up and come over, carefully watching the other three. "I should have taken them out myself, but that was when Chris went down."
Chris looked down at the floor, then squinted up under his brows at Vin. "You sure you remember all this correctly?"
All Vin did was look to the man in the cell, and kick the bars. "You. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
Their prisoner continued to ignore them, so Vin pulled out his sawn-off Winchester and cocked the lever. "Thinking to ignore me? Think again," he snapped. "I got no problem killing you now for what you done," and that finally got him an answer.
"Yeah, I was there. What of it?"
That was all the answer Buck needed. He lurched forward and grabbed the keys from JD's hand, but then both Chris and Ezra pounced on him. They held him back with great difficulty. JD joined in and they dragged Buck outside, with him hollering and trying to throw them all off in an amazing show of force.
Vin pointed a finger at the prisoner. "You shot a girl, she was wearing a nightdress. She got off one shot, and it hit you, but not enough to kill you. I saw it, I know you was the one. Show me your wound."
"No."
"You want another to match?"
The man glowered at Vin and pulled his kerchief off, then pulled his shirt and undershirt away from his shoulder. Something had grazed his shoulder recently; there was a large, red scab that looked like he'd been hit by buckshot.
"She shot you."
"You mean that big heifer? And so what if I shot her? Maybe Handsome Jack shot her. We were both busy, it could have been either one of us." Despite his face being a pulpy mess, he defiantly stuck his jaw out and glared at Vin.
That was too much to take. Vin shoved the butt of the rifle around and hit the man in the face. He reeled backwards, screaming, putting his hands up to his cheek. The door opened and Ezra ran in, looking at Vin and then back to the prisoner.
"What in heaven's name is going on in here?" Ezra barked.
"Just a little confession, is all."
Ezra gave him a dubious look. "If I had you on the other side of those jail bars, angry and whacking me about the head with a rifle, I'd probably confess to something, as well."
"He was there. He just said as much. Look at his shoulder, you can see the shot grazed him."
"All right, all right, I believe you. The trick now is keeping him alive until the judge gets here to hang him."
Vin jerked his head in the direction of the door. "What are they doing to Buck? Sitting on him?" They could hear him clear as day, snapping and growling like a rabid dog.
Sighing, Ezra said, "Well, we're going to need Nathan and Josiah as well if we intend to keep Buck away from our guest here. I think it might take the whole town to sit on him to do the job."
"You hear that?" Vin asked the man. All he got in response was a shrug, and the man returned to the bunk and looked at the wall.
"I'll stay here," Ezra said comfortingly. "You go on."
Vin nodded, but stopped before he turned all the way to go. "I know what you're saying about selling that place. I ain't trying to make you feel bad, like you felt about that money we got from Stutz. I just think it's gotta be Chris's decision, in the end." He jerked his head in the direction of the cell. "This just seals it for me. We may never be free of it, any of us, if that place stays around. Seems like we're just cursed by it, now."
"You never seemed like the superstitious type to me, Vin."
"I ain't. But I know evil when I see it, and that doesn't go away just 'cause you snap your fingers."
"No," Ezra said, shaking his head in sympathy. "No, it doesn't." He didn't know what to say to Vin. Frequently he teased Vin or mocked him. Even though he didn't mean it cruelly, somehow it always came out that way, and he thought Vin was doubtful of his character because of these incidents. But this was as close as Vin had ever come to being friendly to him, of saying what he felt. In some ways, he believed that earning Vin's respect might be even harder than earning Chris's, and it touched him just that much more that Vin was taking such pains to tell Ezra he had it. "But I do appreciate you having given it your due consideration. And who knows, perhaps you're right. Maybe it would be a positive experience for us all if we just burned the place to the ground."
Vin walked to the door, where he heard Chris and now Nathan arguing vehemently with Buck outside. He didn't think Ezra truly believed burning it was a good idea, but he appreciated the gesture.
"I will not allow it," Chris was saying, and Buck fumed at him in response. "This vigilance committee may not look like much, but what are we gonna be if we just throw out our ethics, right along with the law? We are waiting for the judge, and he'll decide who hangs and who doesn't."
As Vin stepped out onto the boardwalk, Buck said to Chris, "The men Averill hired played judge, jury, and executioner for Hilda and how many other people? Hell, they shot you, and it's lucky you're still on your feet."
"When I asked if you could do this job, when the judge hired us, you agreed to abide by the rules. I've let you get away with a lot of things, but this ain't going to be one of them."
Slapping his thigh angrily and turning around, Buck spouted a long line of epithets and half-uttered curses before turning around to face Chris. "Threat of throat trouble will at least get him to tell us why he's here. I wanna know why he suddenly turns up here after all this time, and where he's been. At the very least, he's got to know something about Ella's whereabouts."
Chris kicked at some dirt and squinted at Buck. "I don't know. It seems like a coincidence, to me. He probably didn't even know this was where we all came from. I doubt Averill told his hired guns much at all."
Nathan shook his head at that. "I don't know. I got to agree with Buck, Chris. It seems awful strange that one of the men from over in Red Fork suddenly shows up at our doorstep."
It almost made Vin laugh, except that it was so grave. Chris was pretty easy-going most times and didn't really seem to take his authority with the group very seriously, but it got his back up something fierce whenever anyone challenged his ideas. When he made a statement he wanted people to pay attention to him, and he rarely had doubts about what he was saying, so he didn't much like others doubting him.
"Well, what would you suggest, then?" Chris barked. "He didn't seem too talkative to me." He frowned at Nathan. "And anyways, what would he want with us, exactly? What's the point of coming here? He's lucky he escaped with a minor wound back at Ella's, why come back here looking for trouble?"
Stepping forward off the boardwalk, Vin said softly, "Maybe he ain't looking for trouble. Maybe he's looking for you." They all turned to look at him with surprise.
"Me?" Chris asked incredulously.
"Could be he's still on the payroll."
Chris didn't ask what payroll, he understood perfectly what Vin was saying, and he opened his mouth a couple times before anything came out. "That's just absurd."
Buck shook his head at Chris. "No, no it's not. Vin's got a point. Why else would he show up here and now?"
"This just doesn't make any sense."
Nathan disagreed. "Now, now, hold on here. She didn't stop at murdering people before to get you in her life. You think she's going to let you come back here and forget about her?"
The problem with Nathan was that he was always so reasonable; it became difficult for Chris to argue against him any time he needed to. Chris shrugged and sighed. "All right, let's see what we can find out in the meantime before the judge gets here. But you ain't going near him, you understand?" he said sternly, pointing at Buck.
Buck rolled his head around in response to that, making sure Chris knew exactly how exasperated he was, but he agreed to it. From inside the jail they could hear a commotion, and Chris drew his gun as he walked back to the door. For a second he stopped and looked at Vin -- something strangely tender in those blue eyes -- and then he moved past him quickly.
Ezra had tried to talk to the prisoner, to draw out some information from him. After a conversation about jail food and the indignities of chamber pots and the like, the man had asked for a cigarette, which Ezra had gladly made for him and lit.
"Now, refresh my memory," Ezra said in his smoothest, friendliest tones. "You were hired out by Handsome Jack to scare a woman into giving her property up. But you never knew that you'd in fact been secured by the woman in question?"
"I never knew nothing about that. Weren't but a gunfight to me."
"Hmmm... well, then, if you were wounded and escaped, what have you been doing in the intervening two months, then? Have you had contact with your former employer?"
The man glared at Ezra. "Will an answer get me out of this hole?"
"Oh, well, right now, that's an unlikely scenario. But it could work in your favor when Judge Travis comes to town. I've found him to be a reasonable man." Lying in the service of getting useful information had never been a problem for Ezra.
"Who wants to know, anyway?"
"Well, as much as I am currently in the employ of the town to keep the peace -- and I'm still not certain how exactly that transpired -- I am, within the constraints of law enforcement, an outside player, you see. I could turn out to be quite helpful to you."
With a suspicious glare the man said, "As long as you don't let that long-hair hit me again."
"So, what have you been doing since our unfortunate encounter at the Petrie spread?"
"Same's I was doing before. Working for whoever'd hire me. Mostly the railroad coming this way. I keep the johnnies in line, and that ain't hard, like keeping a bunch of mangy dogs--"
Before he could finish, Ezra had grabbed him through the cell door and banged his head repeatedly against the bars. Ezra held tight with both fists to the man's jacket, and said, his face inches away, "I will thank you not to refer to the laborers in such derogatory terms. In case you haven't figured this out yet, you're in a town with a low tolerance for disreputable behavior, and I include such slander in that category. The closest thing to a town doctor here is a colored man, and if you continue to misbehave, you'll meet him shortly. This town is largely overseen by a woman. There are three men outside who want to do you a great deal of harm. You are not helping yourself by being taciturn, nor are you ingratiating yourself with this attitude." He backhanded the man once for good effect. "You may wish to rethink such statements and actions before those very angry and very unpredictable men return."
As Ezra raised his hand once more, the prisoner yelled and tried to pull out of his grip, but only succeeded in yanking Ezra's hand painfully as he struggled. That was all Ezra could really take after that johnnie remark, and he snapped his arm against the bar. The Derringer popped out right into the man's face. He hollered once again, just as the door opened behind them and the boys strode in, Chris asking, "What in hell is going on in here?"
Ezra turned and dusted off his coat, pulling it back into position. "Why, nothing. Nothing at all. We were having a friendly little conversation." Chris looked at the Derringer and rolled his eyes.
"My kind of conversation," Vin said, smiling.
Ezra took them aside. "He's admitted as much that he worked for Handsome Jack. But he doesn't seem to want to talk about Miss Gaines."
"Probably because he's still working for her," Buck said.
Ezra looked at them quizzically. "Will any of you gentlemen fill me in?"
It seemed to amuse Nathan that Ezra was so confused, so he offered to tell him about the conversation. Chris asked them if they could handle things from there and when they said yes, Vin, Chris, and Buck -- hauled hard by Chris -- left the jail in the hands of JD, Ezra, and Nathan.
Chris wasn't convinced their prisoner was in Ella's employ, but Vin's obvious concern for him made Chris unwilling to test his friendship. He'd rarely seen such a worried look on Vin's face and wasn't quite clear on how to deal with it. He had the rankling feeling that there was something else on Vin's mind that he wasn't telling anyone. And wondering if it had something to do with Ella.
They ordered a bottle of whisky at the saloon and sat down at the checkerboard outside on the boardwalk. Buck idly shoved the pieces around. When he finally looked up, he saw Chris watching him.
"Don't you start with me, Chris."
"Not starting anything."
Buck knocked back a shot. "I'm calmer now."
"That's good," Chris said wryly. " 'Cause I thought you'd tear that man's head off if given half a chance, and use it for a ball to kick around."
"If he's the one who killed Hilda..."
"No disrespect to you or to her, but when did you become so serious about this, Buck?" Chris asked mildly.
"She was the one, Chris."
"Ah, now Buck, you say that all the time." He was trying to be good-natured about it, but Buck's overaffection for every girl he met these days was wearing him down a bit.
"No, sir, Hilda was different. Now, I like to sample as much as I can, that's true, but you know the real thing when you find it, Chris. It took me a bit to see it, but when I did, it was dead certain. She had a beauty in her, and a light that came from inside... she was something, and I'd have taken her away with me if all that hadn't happened."
"It seems to me the last time I saw you with her," Chris said, "you were running away." Vin was watching them in silence, looking back and forth at them, following the conversation. "You couldn't seem to get away fast enough."
Buck shook his head. "I know. And I'm ashamed at myself over that. But once I realized -- well, you were off upstairs with Ella, but after that party, Hilda and I stayed up until the morning hours, talking, and the time never seemed to pass so quickly. And I had never been so certain in my life of something."
"But you said that about that pretty redhead, Louisa, too."
"Ah, I know, I know. But this was real."
Something about the regret in Buck's voice and the sadness in his face made Chris realize that he was telling the truth, and Chris stopped challenging him. "I'm sorry she died, Buck. More than you might realize, and I feel like I'm partly to blame." Out of the corner of his eye he could see Vin roll his head around, probably out of disgust. "But did you ever think that maybe all these feelings, all this wanting someone to be the right one, means something? Maybe you're looking for something after all these years. Maybe Louisa and Hilda were showing you that it ain't so bad to love just one woman."
Chris thought Buck would be angry with him for such a statement, but the reaction he got wasn't expected. Buck just smiled at him. "Maybe you're right, pard. Maybe Hilda was teaching me something, the same way Sarah taught you something." Then he laughed and got up. "Think even an old dog like me can learn some new tricks?"
"Think it's about time you did. Can't keep doing the same old ones over and over." They laughed together and Buck put his hat back on, ambling off to somewhere, Chris didn't know where. He looked over at Vin, who was still sitting there quietly, his harmonica in his hand, not playing it.
"Never thought I'd hear Buck talk about a girl like that." Chris waved a hand at the empty chair.
"Me, neither." Vin moved over and sat in Buck's chair, then put the checkers pieces in their places and made the first move. Chris moved one in return. They played a few games like that, quietly passing the afternoon, not really talking at all about the things they needed to talk about -- what they would do with their prisoner, who would handle the watches at the jail and when, whether they should begin searching for Ella, and whether they even believed she would really have come back. Chris had wished he could draw out that time they'd had the past few days, and now, even though he felt he'd ruined everything, he was enjoying their silence enough to avoid the responsibility he should take by broaching those subjects.
After a time Vin stood and stretched. "Suppose I ought to be getting over to the jail. Give them fellas a break."
Chris looked at him strangely, almost with a flinch. "Of course. Wasting time here."
Glaring at him, Vin asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Just... you're right, we're wasting time here."
"That wasn't what I meant."
"Look, Vin, I know how you feel. You don't got to make excuses for leaving."
It was rare for him to lose his temper, but Vin's face became hot with anger. He leaned forward, picking up a checkers piece and tapping it angrily against the table, until he slammed it down and said, "You think you know how I feel? You don't know nothing about how I feel. You keep thinking you did something that wasn't right, that I'm sick just to be around you. You don't know a damn thing about it. If you did, you'd know how much I admire you and how much affection I got for you. So shut up and don't tell me how I feel."
He was just about to say something else, so het up that he couldn't stop himself even though he'd said more now than he probably said in an average week, when he heard from behind him the sound of Billy Travis's and Jamey Potter's voices.
"Mr. Larabee, Mr. Tanner," they called. "Come quick. You got to come quick." Vin turned to look at them, still filled with his own fury, ready to lash into them, but they were so excited and afraid that he stopped himself. Chris stood, pulling his hat on.
"What is it?" he asked the boys. "What's wrong?"
"Come on, come on!" They grabbed Chris's and Vin's hands, pulling them off the boardwalk and down the street to the edge of town. Already Ezra and Josiah were there, as were others in the town. In the late afternoon sky, far in the distance, they could see dark smoke covering the sky like clouds of a thunderstorm, but this was no storm. At the far edge of the horizon a smear of red and orange tinted the air. It stretched as far as they could see in either direction, and even though it was miles away, there was a thrumming, dark sound that made it feel as if the earth were quivering with fear beneath their feet.
"Dear God almighty," Ezra said quietly, his voice filled with awed terror. Chris and Vin stared out at the approaching fire, dumbstruck.
Josiah turned to Ezra, then looked back at the horizon. "That ain't your dear God out there. That's your wrathful, vengeful God. Out to wipe every sinner off the earth."
In the panic that ensued, as hard as Vin tried to concentrate on all the things that needed to be done in a vain attempt to avert disaster, he couldn't quite tear his thoughts away from Chris and what this must be doing to him. Nor was he alone in this -- all the boys were worried about him, far beyond the fears a wildfire created in anyone's heart.
But there was a bigger business at hand, and Chris, as much as anyone else, had work to do. After the initial shock and fear they had all moved quickly. Everyone's help was necessary, and the town was thrown into chaos. While many ran, taking whatever they could and going towards the lake, or maybe just anywhere that wasn't here, a lot of folks stayed, determined to fight it.
Flour and grain sacks were emptied and soaked to beat back flames, as well as clothing and blankets and every available piece of cloth. What little water they could spare was thrown at buildings to wet them down. Every pickaxe, mattock, shovel, or hoe was taken out of the hardware and general stores to dig out fire breaks; saws were taken to cut down trees close to buildings or hack back shrubs; and the horses and mules were turned loose from the livery and hitching rails. Already they saw the rumbling herds of frightened cattle from the nearby ranches as they ran ahead of the fire, coming surely at its own speed and in its terrifying brilliance from the direction of Eagle Bend. Chris wondered if that town had been in its path or if the fire had started somewhere between there and here, after that lightning storm of the night before. Or maybe it had started carelessly, a cigarette or a match, a campfire left unattended. Whatever its cause, the thunder of destruction was already on its way. They had time, but not much, and if the wind gusted or the swirling heat and wind the fire created on its own shifted in the slightest way, they could be in for serious trouble.
Josiah was hard at work digging a firebreak at the edge of town when he looked back and nodded his head at JD, who was helping him. "There's a sight you won't see often in your life," he noted. JD looked over to the feed store boardwalk to see two frantic steers trying to fight their way out of the building, confused, terrified. When the two men turned back to their job, they saw riders coming, dozens of people who had been outrunning the fire.
"What if we can't stop it, Josiah? What if we can't turn it back or outrun it?" JD asked, in between gulping breaths.
"Then we perish," was all Josiah would say. Under his breath he began muttering something, and JD asked him what he was saying. "A prayer. Pray for our salvation, because we're running out of time, son." The ground was shaking, JD could feel it trembling with the fire's approach.
He could only look at Josiah in horror, realizing that if Josiah's own faith was shaken, if he was frightened enough to pray, they were in serious trouble. Josiah always saved that for private; he kept his dealings with the Lord mostly to himself. Even though it still paced itself and was a few miles away, the sound was deafening, smoke roiling in clouds as large as a building, illuminated by red from underneath.
"Will they stop here and help us?" JD asked of the people running.
"Don't know, JD. But we can't count on it. People do funny things when they're afraid."
"Don't I know it!" They kept digging, kept working, even as night was beginning to sneak up on them. The brilliance of the fire as it came closer, the noise of it, was both awe-inspiring and fearsome. Now he could hear the snapping of trees as the fire jumped from canopy to canopy, looking for more food.
Vin and dozens of others were cutting back brush and trees from the edge of town and building backfires they hoped would stop the progress, leaving less material for the fire to jump along. He could see Mary Travis and Mrs. Potter desperately throwing water against the farthest outlying buildings, helping to clear back brush, but he thought it would be futile. Already homesteaders outside the town might be either burned out and on the run, or dead, trying to defend their homes. Maybe he was just being cynical, enough people survived prairie fires, but out here with the woods, things were different. The chaparral and sage, the trees and grasses around here were all so dry despite last night's light summer rain that they would go up like tinder. He and Nathan and the others sawed down every shrub they could get to, but the fire was fast approaching. They set fire to what they could cut in small, controlled blazes. Looking up into the sky, he willed the clouds to open up with rain, but nothing was there to answer him. If he'd ever known a time he wanted to run away, it was right now. With a sudden ferocity, he wished that he had never stayed here, had never been fool enough to put down roots.
Chris had to open the jail, and told Buck and Ezra to keep an eye on their prisoner, but in the chaos and fear they'd long since lost track of him. There were so many people running around, half trying to find ways to keep back the fire, the other half running as fast as they could, that one man was impossible to watch for. Even Ezra was dirtying his hands, digging firebreaks and carrying water, right behind Buck. If the wind could just be in their favor, if it could turn the fire back the other way or send it to the west, maybe they could take its glancing blow and survive with only minimal damage.
Now it was close enough to feel the heat, a huge, hungry animal that filled Chris's vision and stung his eyes with its fumes and ash. Cones from pines exploded here and there; trees crackled; flames curled up like red fingers reaching for the sky. As it came closer, they could feel its enormous heat on their skin. Chris stopped his work and stared at the fire, his heart stopping in his chest. There was nothing he hated more in this life, nothing that could paralyze him with terror like fire. It wouldn't do any good, all this effort. They would have to run to the small lake outside town or the creek nearby, or hide in the dugouts. Even then, could they escape it totally? Fire sucked the air from around you, smothered you even if you weren't burnt to a crisp by the flames themselves. The smoke choked you to death. He could feel the whoosh of air as it was eaten by the blazing mouth in the sky, and there was only roaring in his ears as it thundered toward them.
Suddenly Vin was next to him. "We gotta get out of here, now. We have to move these folks out, this ain't gonna stop it. The backburns won't get the worst of it. You can see it moving through the tree tops, faster up there. It's throwing off embers, and if they catch..."
After a second or two, Vin's words penetrated Chris's mind, and he turned to Vin, confused for a moment. "The wind's blowing to the north," he said stupidly, feeling it ripple his hair, along with the cruel heat. He wasn't sure if it was the normal wind that moved the fire forward, or the wind generated by the fire itself.
"Maybe, but it's too late to help us."
They ran for the other men with Josiah and JD to tell them to go, but just then Josiah straightened up. "Maybe God's listening to us. The wind's shifting." The closest wall of fire was curved away from them, dancing its edge toward the town but not moving, taunting them with its hint of disaster ever closer.
"Not fast enough," Vin shouted as they came up to them. "Come on, we're leaving, get everyone and let's go." He tried to grab at JD's arm, but JD stood fast.
"We can't just leave everyone!" Around them backfires smoldered in ashes, waiting to absorb the flames.
Chris shouted back at him over the roar of the fire, "We're not! Everyone's coming with us! We're going to the creek." They began running toward Buck and Ezra to get them and the others. People had thrown down their tools and were now rushing away, covering their faces, to the other end of town. Heading in the other direction from hell.
As they reached Ezra a sudden gust of wind blew flames from a nearby tree that exploded in a ball of flame, then subsided. It hit Vin with its large sparks, which caught in his hair and the kerchief he wore over his face. Ezra immediately threw his coat over Vin and smothered the fire, just as one of the outlying buildings was caught in the updraft of the flames. The water had dampened the row of buildings so that they didn't go up like a torch, but it was not enough -- the flames still swallowed them quickly. Vin was shaking as Ezra took his coat away, his face filled with terror, and Ezra realized that it was the first time he had seen Vin afraid, ever. Even though there was no time for it he put a hand on Vin's shoulder and nodded at him. "You'll have to visit the barber at long last, Vin," Ezra said loudly but kindly, touching the large chunk of Vin's long brown waves that had singed.
"Thanks, Ezra," Vin said as humbly as someone could while shouting. They dodged away from the smoke pouring thickly at them. "Now you've gone and ruined your pretty jacket."
"Oh, anything in the service of a good deed," Ezra replied. "Besides, we're probably going to die anyway, crisped like bacon." He laughed bitterly.
When Vin turned he saw Chris looking at him in agony, his face a twisted mask of pain. In that eyeblink of a moment Vin realized just how much affection Chris had for him, how afraid he was of losing Vin in his life, and Vin nodded at him, still shaking, but knowing that anything was bearable as long as Chris cared for him. Chris gave him a wan smile, and they were on the move again.
The backburns were working, though. The fire stalled in places, with nothing to keep it going. Only the southern part of the fire had something to eat at as it blazed its path toward the rest of the town.
Even as the wind shifted, the fire began to eat away at the town and its surroundings. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, the remaining portion began moving northward, as if one side of the town were being punished and the other side rewarded. The boys all stopped, watching it move in the other direction, hoping it would stay on its new path. Chris wiped sweat from his head, staring helplessly at the fire, knowing that even if some of their own town was left standing, some others would lose their homes and lives before it stopped. Even before fire had destroyed his own life he'd seen forest fires sweep across the great thickets of trees that had surrounded the land he grew up in, wasting whole communities within moments.
JD said from behind him, "Looks like your prayers worked, Josiah."
Shaking his head, Josiah replied, "Oh, God don't listen to a sinner like me. Maybe he just feels like he's done tormenting us for now."
Chris looked contemptuously at JD. "God don't give a damn."
Vin touched Chris's arm. "We got to stop the spread of the rest of this." He nodded in the direction of the outlying buildings where those who hadn't run were desperately beating out flames with wet sacking, trying to keep it at bay before all the remaining structures burned out.
He didn't know what was wrong with him that in an emergency he was being so dull-witted as this, and that Vin had to keep reminding him how to act. But he was grateful for it, and he followed with the rest of them over to help. At least this he could do, at least now he could try to put the flames out instead of helplessly standing in the middle of the burned-out remains of his life. He could try, now, to save someone else's future.
Hours later, in the smoky darkness of night, they could still see the fire against the horizon as it swept northeast from the town. A crimson moon hung above the town like a bloody eye, dispassionately watching their destruction. Exhausted, filthy, hungry, and frightened, people of the town clustered together and tried to comfort one another, watching the buildings that had once stood on the east end of town smolder their embers out. The stench of wet, burned wood was everywhere. Farther out would be the odor of burnt animal carcasses, which would reach them soon enough. They would have to get looking for their horses soon.
As he sat on the boardwalk that just a few feet from him crumbled into soot, Chris stared at his feet and tried to calm himself. A few minutes into his silence a man's boots appeared in his view, and he looked up to see a stranger watching him.
"Mr. Larabee? Chris Larabee? I thought you looked familiar." Chris just stared back at him, unable to understand what he was saying. "I'm Ady Janson, my wife Annie and me had the parcel of land just a bit south of you. Maybe you don't recall. We saw you at church sometimes, you and your wife. We were so sorry to hear about what happened to your family, it was terrible, just terrible." He looked around. "Funny that it was a fire drove us here now. Sad."
Chris could only nod; he still hadn't found his speech.
"I won't keep you, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was about everything, and how sorry I am that you've had to see such a thing again. Hope no one close was hurt this time."
He stood and thanked the man, finally remembering him from all that time ago, but just barely. Now they had clearly lost everything too, if they were here. "Eagle Bend?"
"If there's anything left, it won't be much. There was some terrible lightning last night, can't help thinking maybe that's what started it. But it swept right through and we had to run. Didn't have time to fight, even."
He hung his head and Chris touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"We'll be all right. Some of us are going back to see... see if there's anything to rebuild."
"I hope so."
He watched Janson walk away into the darkness, knowing how hard it would be for them if nothing was left. They were not much more than dirt farmers, and the horses they had come in on would be about all they'd have left. Anyone between here and Eagle Bend would be the same, as would most of this town's residents. Where would they get money? Chris was filled with despair at this life, the harshness of existing out here, the fact that life offered you so little in return for so much work and struggle and sacrifice. Josiah may believe that God was involved in this, but Chris had no doubts anymore, he knew they were living in a Godless world, one where innocent people burned alive. Before he'd hated God; now he believed there was no holy power, not in a world like this. They were utterly, completely alone.
He went looking for Vin, thinking of all the things Vin said to him that afternoon in a world away. It wasn't good to spend all his time pondering how strange things had become between them lately, but he sure could have come up with better ways to keep his mind occupied than a wildfire. He saw Vin with Josiah helping some people into the church. Josiah had opened the church up to everyone he could take in, small as it was. Vin's kindness to people touched Chris, especially at a time when all Chris could feel was that he wanted to run away. It was always Vin's nature to help people, whether it was tending a wound with Nathan or standing up against an injustice.
And when Vin was momentarily in danger all Chris was able to do was stand there stupidly while Ezra took action. The thought of fire even touching Vin made him shudder, his stomach twisting at the notion. Part of Vin's hat had burned away, a section of his long hair, but at least that had been the only damage. Ezra had stopped it before it had hurt him. It was too much for Chris to think about the other things that could have happened, how close Vin had come, how close they'd all come. He was beginning to believe that fire followed him, that somehow he was cursed by it, as if it was his very own hell, trailing behind him on a leash. A punishment for the life he'd led before.
If Chris told that to anyone, he knew how stupid it would sound. Buck would give him that big shake of the head and a dramatic punch on the arm, then tell him he was feeling too guilty again. And Josiah would come up with something wise but that would do nothing to ease these feelings. So he had best keep it to himself. He watched Vin instead as he helped someone up the steps of the church, obscured by the smoke that still blew everywhere in puffy drifts, and thought that after all this time he was finally beginning to understand the other things he'd lost when Sarah and Adam had died -- trust, understanding, loyalty. Love contained all these things and more, but it was too easy forget that. These were the things Vin was trying to communicate to him yesterday. Why did it take loss or the threat of loss to understand that?
Just as he went looking for his horse he saw JD with Tiny, the two of them leading a whole passel of animals back to the livery and any available hitching rail. All the boys' horses were there and Chris smiled. Good animals, he thought, maybe even smarter than they themselves were.
Spying Mary across the way, he went over to put comforting arms around her and she buried her face in his soot-covered shoulder. "It's all right," he said, with no conviction whatsoever.
She looked up at him with teary eyes, the smudges of dirt and ash fouling her perfect skin and hair. "We came so close. What if we hadn't been so lucky?"
"But we were," he said. "Is Billy all right?"
Looking down at her hands, she nodded, then looked at him again. "What if the fire hadn't shifted? Or the backfires didn't work?"
"We would have run, just like we were starting to do. To the fishing hole at the lake, a stream, somewhere. I've seen people survive these, easier than grasshoppers or floods."
Mary shook her head. "It wouldn't have helped. It was too late. We stayed too long, trying to stop it."
"But we're here."
She put her hand on his chest, her gentle touch a surprise to him. "This must have been so awful for you. I can't imagine."
All he could do was nod and look off into the distance.
"And Vin? Is he all right?"
"Aw, he'll be okay, just a bit lopsided for a while, 'less he cuts all his hair off. Good thing he's not vain."
Mary laughed, a sweet sound. It had been a long time since he'd seen such an expression on her face when he was within talking distance. They'd had so much go between them after Ella, all of it bad, and even though they both knew things could never be the same, it felt wonderful after all this time -- and the horrible night -- to laugh together.
"What would we have done without all of you?"
"Survive, just like always."
"There's a difference between surviving and living. Because of all of you, we have lives here. You're willing to risk so much for us."
Even though he'd been willing to give it all up for Ella at the crook of her finger. But he didn't say that. "And you? Will you rebuild? I have a feeling a lot of people who lost much won't want to stay."
"I've been through worse; I have to stay. Orrin will be here and plans to stay for a bit. I feel like it's as much his town as anyone's, despite what I know you all think about me." She gave him a wry smile and he squeezed her arm in return.
"I have a plan," Chris said quietly. "Will you tell people to just sit tight? It might take me a while. And at least a couple of us are going to have to chase off after that prisoner. He didn't waste no time getting out of here, but I'm not letting him go."
Her response was a curious look from under her brows. She pushed her hair off her forehead. "Well, if you have a plan, it must be interesting. Of course I'll tell people. Just let me know when you're ready."
Chris walked away from her, trying not to listen to the sounds of people crying, and continued his walk through town, checking on as many people as he could. The light was coming up now, and even with morning alive around him everything still felt dead. He was numb inside from the fear. He didn't want to go into the church, but he wanted to find Vin. As he got nearer to the church, though, he saw Vin knocking some still-smoldering wood to the ground with his foot.
"Would have thought you'd had enough of that," Chris said dryly.
Vin turned quickly and his face split in a huge grin. "Where you been, cowboy? Thought maybe you'd run off on us."
"Just checking on people." Chris helped Vin smother out the remaining embers of what had once been the Bender's pharmacy. Then he tossed Vin a can of peaches, which he caught in mid-air.
Soberly, Vin said, "You gonna be okay? Only, you don't look it."
"You ain't exactly a picture yourself, you know."
"Aw, that ain't what I mean, and you know it. Just worried about all this. Can't be easy for you."
"Nah, it ain't." He motioned for Vin to follow him and they wandered over to the back of the church where it was quiet for now, nothing but the sound of the wind and the sharp tang of burned wood and sagebrush. They sat on the steps and Chris looked out at the horizon that was slowly turning blue, as if everything were normal and it was just another day. Vin sawed open the can with zeal, spearing a peach on his knife and bringing it to his mouth, juice dripping everywhere. Chris opened his own and did the same, saying, "Courtesy of Mrs. Potter. Reckon she thinks we saved the whole town just ourselves."
"Well, this is a treat worth a little extra work for," Vin said happily, devouring the rest of the peaches and drinking the juice from the can.
Laughing while he ate the rest of his, Chris managed to get out, "If that's what you think of as extra work, you and me got some serious disagreements ahead of us."
After a time he turned to Vin, looked at him hard. "You scared me half to death." There, he'd said something of how he felt. After all the strange things that had happened in the past few days, this might be dangerous, but he didn't want to waste any more time.
"Just a little singed hair is all. Ezra called it cosmetic damage." He squinted off in the distance. "But I think I scared myself more. Never felt like that."
"Not you. You never been afraid of anything in your life."
"More than you know, Chris, a lot more than you know."
Chris reached over to the other side of Vin's face and pushed a lock of hair behind his ear, tenderly. "Don't be doing that to me again."
For a moment Vin closed his eyes, then looked at Chris with startling intensity. "Never."
Everything was different now, the whole world had changed outside of them -- and inside. Chris looked away, and Vin wondered if he too understood that everything was different, and if he was afraid now of just what that meant.
"Been thinking. I got a few things I want to do, but soon as they're done, we need to go after that fellow from the jail."
"Did anyone see which way he went?" Vin asked.
"Nope, but I imagine he went west or northwest, where the water is. I'll need you, and I was thinking of Josiah. After something like this, there's a lot of bad trouble on the trail. Every terrible piece of news you can find will come out of the woods. We'll need more than just us two, but we can't afford all the boys."
"All them people in the church might need him. Don't want to take Buck, huh?"
"Too close. Can't take Nathan, and JD will want to be around to comfort Casey, even if he don't know it yet." They both chuckled at that. "Nah, I think we need someone of Josiah's size, and besides, Ezra can stay around. He's had practice preaching," Chris said with a smirk. "Kids love him, and I got a plan for him to take care of, anyway."
"Fill me in?"
"I know what I want to do with Stutz's money. I'll tell you when we're on the trail."
Vin stood and brushed off his clothes. "Best see if I can get me a new hat before we head out. And I'll go tell Josiah." Chris stood up next to him. "He's going to be a might disappointed that he won't get to do some hellfire and brimstone preaching after this. Take all his fun away."
"He does like to scare people." Chris gave him a little wave as he walked away, and Vin watched him go around the corner. He was putting up a brave front, Vin thought, but the cracks were showing. Four Corners and all the land around it looked like it had been in the middle of a battle, and all this would only make Chris feel as if he'd survived one too many. Of course they had a job to do, and Chris was serious about this, but he also believed that getting out of here was the only thing Chris could do to save his sanity. At least Vin could go with him, be by his side. Where he belonged.
This strange feeling between him and Chris was like a mirage. The Indians he'd lived with had a different word for it, but Josiah had taught him that one and he liked the sound of it. Something on the land that glimmered faintly, and if you approached it, might disappear. He'd known men who were closer than most in their affections, but was this feeling between Chris and him just a figment of his mind? Something shimmering on the horizon that couldn't be reached because it vanished before you touched it? Was the way Chris seemed to feel real? Maybe he'd never know. But he could live an interesting life finding out.
He went to Josiah to tell him Chris's plans and Josiah accepted it philosophically, although he was a bit surprised that Chris had plans for Stutz's money. "Chris's mind works in mysterious ways," Josiah said.
"Ain't that the truth."
"He holding up after all this? Can't imagine this is easy for him after all he's been through." Josiah was pulling things together for a lengthy ride, not knowing how long they'd be away.
"I think he's been better."
"And you?" Vin was a bit surprised by this question, uncertain exactly what Josiah was asking. "You've been carrying around all those things from Ella's place and worrying over that. What now?"
"Oh, that. Well, I ain't talked about what to do with the house yet. And now don't seem like the time to bring up burning a place down."
Josiah laughed. "No, it certainly doesn't. It's almost too bad that the Lord has such a peculiar sense of humor. If he'd been more serious, he would have started that fire round about Red Fork rather than Eagle Bend."
"I went there." Vin kicked at the door jamb, staring at his boot toes.
"To Red Fork?"
Nodding, Vin said, "I ain't scared of much, but I swear that place was haunted. It felt like something was there and my horse was all spooked. Could have been a bear or a mountain lion, but I don't think so. My skin was crawling."
"The lost souls destroyed by Ella Gaines?"
"I know, I know, it sounds foolish. Believe me, I ain't wanted to say anything to anyone, but I can't shake the feeling. And there's this part of me... I keep thinking that with that feller showing up, and now this fire, something strange is going on. That Chris is in danger."
"You really believe that man is here because of Ella?"
Vin looked away at the street, not totally certain what to say without making more of a fool of himself. "I keep thinking everything is because of her."
"Even this wildfire?"
He shook his head. "Aw, I don't know. Suppose not, it's just my nerves talking. Next thing you know I'll be telling you I saw Miss Hildegard's ghost."
"You're more aware of what Chris feels than anyone else in this town. I'm not surprised you'd feel fearful of his safety. If he's a smart man, he'll pay attention to you this time."
"Or maybe not." Vin motioned for Josiah to follow him and they went to their horses. "Maybe I'm just a fool, and y'all are too nice to tell me." He smiled at Josiah. "And now I gotta get me a new hat."
"Allow me to ascertain whether I understand this correctly," Ezra said, confounded. "You are asking me, the single least-trustworthy person in this little mercenary group of ours, the one who only a few short months ago asked you not to entrust him with others' cash, to take ten thousand dollars and play Robin Hood with it?"
"Not all of it. Take one thousand out and distribute it between the six of you."
"Cut seven ways, that doesn't precisely make us rich as Croesus."
"You saying you don't want it?" Chris glared at him, and Ezra quickly made placating noises. When Chris got this irascible this quickly, he'd lost all his ground.
"Now, now, that is most emphatically not what I'm saying. I would be most grateful to have any of the money, of course, and I would be thrilled to spread the wealth to the residents of this town."
"Not the residents, only the people who've been burned out or lost someone. That means you have to keep a tight lip on what you're doing, and you're going to need JD and Buck and Nathan and Mary to help you. Subtlety ain't always your strong suit where money's concerned, but you got to be subtle this time."
"Have no fear, inconspicuous is my middle name."
Laughing derisively, Chris said, "And people from Eagle Bend or anywhere else that got hit by that fire."
"Understood." He was completely mystified by Chris's sudden desire to entrust him with such an undertaking, but it certainly made up for what had happened the past few months. He wasn't sure what prompted such a change of heart in Chris, but things definitely were different about him in more ways than Ezra could possibly enumerate.
As he walked back to the church to see about taking over from Josiah, Ezra heard a sharp voice call out to Chris from behind him, and immediately thought, *trouble*. Mr. Conklin had never done anything but gripe about them, had never been willing to concede their value to the town. Ezra stopped and turned back to Chris, knowing that this would be one of the few times Chris would need his moral support.
"And you can't expect to just leave us at a time like this," Conklin was barking at Chris.
"Mr. Conklin, I got nothing to say to you about this. We had a prisoner, we're going after him. Four of us are staying behind."
"That's not enough! People have lost their livelihoods, their homes. Others have probably lost lives. There's too much work to do."
Chris stopped tying down his gear and turned angrily to Conklin. "And you'll get help from four of us. We'll find our prisoner and bring him back shortly. But I'm not letting a murderer get away scot-free because of a fire."
"There are more important things than that." By now Mary Travis had come up near Mr. Conklin, and others were watching the discussion.
"I don't know what's more important than making a man pay for killing a fine young woman and beating up another. Or taking a shot at JD Dunne when all he's done is try to protect this town," Chris snarled.
Ezra stood beside Chris and watched as Vin rode up with Josiah on his tail. "Mr. Conklin, I promise you that any assistance needed by anyone in this town will be rendered adequately, even without the rest of our committee. Unless you wish to effectively drive us all away because of your ingratitude and poor choice of timing," Ezra said in his most unctuous and charming voice. Mary smiled behind Conklin, and he knew that she was readying to shut him up if his own speech didn't effectively do the job.
Conklin looked at Chris and then back to Vin and Josiah, and finally gave up. He grumbled away, making a show of it for everyone assembled, until Chris mounted his horse. Mary nodded at him and Chris touched his hat in return, then he nodded at Ezra. "Remember what I told you. Especially when it comes to him," he said, gesturing in Conklin's direction.
"Certainly. You can depend on me." He flashed a gold-toothed smile, tipped his hat, and said, "Safe journey."
"Take care of yourself, Ezra," Vin said and tipped his hat. Ezra watched them ride away, thinking *watch your backs*, realizing that he and the other four had the easier job of soothing people's hearts and helping them rebuild. Tracking someone in all this destruction and wondering whether the fire could come right back at you would be hard enough, and none of them had had any sleep. All in all, he'd rather be here playing with money.
It wasn't quite as bad as Vin had feared. The fire had played itself out closer to Four Corners, so finding a trail wasn't such a challenge. Keeping track of their quarry would be easy enough -- it was mostly just making sure they had the right quarry. Enough people had run in this direction that he had to sort out the tracks and signs he wanted from others which might have been created by people running away -- no one they need concern themselves with.
At one point Vin broke the silence by asking Chris what his plan was for the money, and Chris told him that he'd given Ezra charge of the cash to give to people who'd suffered in the fire. Vin started to laugh his quiet, low chuckle, and Chris pulled his head back, squinting at him. "What's so damn funny?"
Shaking his head, Vin answered, "Aw, nothing, don't get all worked up." Then he really started to laugh, his shoulders shaking, no sound coming from his mouth.
"Looks like it's pretty funny to me."
"It's just --" Vin turned around to see how Josiah was reacting, but a person would never know if he was listening or not, he seemed almost to be sleeping under the brim of his hat. "Josiah and Ezra were saying the other day that you and me are two of a kind. That we got a need to help people."
Chris looked sternly at him and made a humphing sound.
"Ezra said I got a soft spot for someone with a broken wing, and I think he said that you need to have a cause. Like I guess we're at our best when people are hurting and need help." He fixed Chris with a sharp look. "And it's lookin' like maybe they're right."
It was irritating to think of them all talking about his private life, and about him and Vin like that. As if they had a right to discuss his character. But he knew as well as anyone that they considered themselves friends now, and friends would want to talk about what made you who you are. Even if they shouldn't. It was one reason he'd avoided having too many friends in his lifetime -- this tendency for people to second-guess you. But this was a marker for him. Enough people here had found him worth the challenge of getting past his walls, most of all Vin, and that was certainly a change in his life. A pretty dramatic one, too. And anyhow, he couldn't begrudge them talking about him when all he'd ever given them was one thin sliver of his life like they were supposed to do something with it, like it was supposed to mean something. Only Vin had ever really figured out what to do with it.
Long before dusk they were exhausted, and Chris, acknowledging that they were, had them set up camp and eat something. He asked Josiah if he could take first watch, although it was a toss-up which one of the three of them was more tired. Josiah thought he could, he said, but it would have to be a short one.
Josiah kept on his feet, mostly to stay awake, and walked around along the edge of the treeline of the little clearing they'd camped in. Vin couldn't see him, but he knew Josiah would stay alert; he had never really forgiven himself for letting the Chinese boy steal his gun while he was sleeping, so he'd want to prove to himself that he was dependable.
Despite his exhaustion, Vin couldn't sleep. He looked up at the wide net of stars in the sky, thinking how different everything looked just twenty-four hours later. There was no veil of ash over everything, no drifts of smoke to obscure the night. He still reeked of smoke and dirt and it would be a long few days before he'd get a bath and a shave and a change of clothes.
Then he heard a soft rustling sound, barely audible, and suddenly Chris was at his side, leaning down toward him and sliding under the blanket. Vin was too shocked to say anything, but Chris put his hand on Vin's mouth, motioning silence with his fingers. Vin looked around in suspicion, wondering where Josiah was. He didn't see any sign of him.
It felt funny, how warm against him Chris was, the way Vin's own heart seemed to still inside his chest. Chris pressed the whole of his body along Vin's, then took his hand away from Vin's mouth. He had a wild look in his eye, excited and fearful, which was arousing to Vin for reasons he couldn't understand but recognized. It was as if Chris was a mirror of what Vin himself was feeling, both of them nervous about and fascinated by what was going on between them.
Then Chris pressed his mouth against Vin's, carefully at first, then harder and still harder, and Vin felt himself fall open to Chris. He gripped Chris's shoulders with his fingers, and Chris slid his hand along Vin's torso, down to his hip, poised closely near his groin.
He was kissing Chris. Or Chris was kissing him, he wasn't sure at first. Then he realized they were really kissing each other. It was a tough thing to understand completely, but he was thrilled by it, alive with it coursing through his bones and blood and muscle. He tasted of smoke and coffee, whisky and tobacco, and it was a perfect mix; perfectly Chris. His breathing came shallower and faster, and Chris pulled away, staring hard at Vin.
Vin's eyes were wide, so dark in the night like this. Chris wondered if he looked like that himself, if they both appeared to each other equally terrified. Over and over he plunged his mouth against Vin's, gulping in his taste.
Again Chris put his fingertips over Vin's mouth as he moved his other hand to Vin's pants and caressed his cock. Vin nodded and lay back, pulling Chris on top of him. Chris was giddy with the notion of what he was doing and terrified of this falling, falling feeling as he did it. Unbuttoning Vin's pants, he pressed his open mouth to Vin's, tongues circling each other, teeth lightly pulling at lips.
An amber fire, soft and warm, filled his veins, his chest, his mouth. Even while expecting that Vin might push him away, he had let his needs overtake him. And that initial moment of fear was overtaken quickly by desire, and then such a sweet excess of feeling he almost didn't recognize it in himself. As if a stranger had stepped into his skin to experience all these sensations, this enjoyment, this passion.
Chris pushed his face into Vin's neck, trying to muffle his groans, choking back every noise he desperately wanted to make. He bit into Vin's collarbone, could feel Vin doing the same to him on his shoulder as they pushed against each other.
Every movement was maddeningly wonderful, yet Vin couldn't make a sound, couldn't make a motion that would result in noise. He kept looking over Chris's shoulder even as he pressed his mouth against it, trying to see if Josiah would come into view, and then suddenly he forgot where he was, what he was doing as the feeling of Chris's hot hand stole away his senses. Chris wrapped his hand around Vin's throbbing cock, stroking it, until Vin had undone Chris's pants and slid them low on those thin hips, their flesh meeting in a shivery, searing friction. Vin's whole body was wracked with trembling pleasure as Chris moved against him, one hand sliding up under his shirt, the other pressed to Vin's cheek or neck, back and forth.
Vin dug his hands firmly into Chris's backside, shoving Chris hard against him with each short, furious movement. And Chris was still kissing him, wet, open-mouthed kisses, alternating with soft bites and teasing licks. Tiny pinwheels of pleasure whirled through him, bursting behind his eyelids in white sparks. Within moments Vin felt Chris buck hard against him once, twice, and then he stopped, although his kisses did not. Vin could feel the wet warmth over his belly, and then Chris began rocking against him again, his hand wrapped around both their cocks, making sure that Vin would have no less pleasure. Chris suddenly licked around Vin's ear, then sucked on his earlobe and Vin could feel the shuddering release of his own body take him in surprise. He pressed his mouth against Chris's shoulder, muffling the deep groan he wanted so badly to make. He'd had no idea someone's tongue on his ear could send him over the edge quite that way and now he wanted to laugh for the foolishness of it. But he could not, so he bit the cloth of Chris's shirt until the urge went away. Chris pulled his kerchief off and stroked it over them both, wiping the sticky mess away before he leaned down to kiss Vin longingly and deeply.
Then he slid away into the cloaking darkness, leaving Vin panting shallowly, stunned. Vin lay back against the cold ground and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder, wondering what had just happened, certain it wasn't a dream or nightmare but not so certain it wasn't madness. In spite of everything, how could he have expected this? He had to sleep; Josiah would likely come to wake him soon. It would be best to think about this tomorrow. As if he could think of anything else. He closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.
He dreams. At first, just darkness and the sensation of falling. Then Vin is in a town, possibly it's Four Corners but he doesn't quite recognize it, although he sees parts of Red Fork and maybe even Eagle Bend. They look wrong together like this, but that's not what's so disquieting. There is a dance going on to the left; on the boardwalk fiddlers are playing and people are dancing, even though much of the town is smoldering from dying flames and embers, and spot fires still dot the landscape.
In the press of bodies he can see the boys scattered all around, some of them clapping their hands in time to the music. At the far end is Chris, laughing and smiling. Someone is next to him; Vin realizes it's Sarah and Adam, and Chris leans down to pick Adam up, hoisting him onto his hip and holding the boy close. He has never seen Sarah, so he doesn't know how he knows it's her, but she looks like the woman from the picture, even though much of her face was scratched away on the print he saw.
Then something catches his eye on the right. A brilliant white flash, someone moving through the crowds of brown and dun and grey and black. A dress, he thinks, a woman in a blindingly white dress. He can't see her face, can only see the rustle of a petticoat at the bottom, then a curve of bodice or bustle, and the dress is so white that it can't be real, no one could keep a piece of cloth so clean out here, he thinks.
Try as he might, his eye won't stop following the woman as she moves through the assembly of people clapping and singing. So he walks forward, keeping after her as she weaves among the crowd. A feeling of unease grows in him. Then he sees her arm, snaking out toward him, almost glowing with the reflection of the setting sun. She drops a pure white lawn handkerchief and it flutters to the ground slowly, dropping like words that float from love-tender lips. Vin's eyes move up from the handkerchief to the arm, then to her face, which he sees now. Ella Gaines. Her dark hair is done up tight against her head and a white hat is fitted against the round curve of her hair, a white mother-of-pearl comb at the nape of her neck. She turns and looks at him, and he moves slowly forward, like stepping through molasses. She dips her head and turns away, an elegant, swanlike motion that seems so demure and modest. Now he sees she has a parasol, white of course, with ruffles along the edges, held in her white-gloved hands.
Where is Chris? He looks into the crowd and can't see him at first, then finds him, but Sarah and Adam are no longer there, although Chris seems happy anyway, clapping hands in time, smiling broadly. With sudden clarity Vin realizes that Chris is in danger, and Ella is moving toward him. Vin doesn't understand how he knows her intent, but she is going to harm him. He tries to catch the attention of the other boys, calling their names, but they don't hear him. He nearly screams in Ezra's face, gesturing wildly at Ella, but Ezra doesn't understand him and looks away, grinning. Vin fights his way through the crowd, but more and more people get in his way, and he doesn't know where they are all coming from. Panic consumes him. Ella turns to him and smiles, a wicked smile of triumph, he thinks. She's won, she will get to Chris before him. Everyone parts for her. He sees the handkerchief on the ground, but now its whiteness is ruined by blood, small rosettes of it which form a pattern on the surface.
He screams at Chris, trying to warn him. Then she's there, and Chris is looking at her, taking her arm in his. Vin lunges for Chris, hollering at his loudest not to touch her, but Chris ignores him. Ella turns and as Vin reaches for them, his hand is engulfed in flame. It spreads up his arm, faster than an eyeblink. As the pain shoots through his body he tries to get help, but none of the boys sees him. The fire spreads around him and then Ella reaches for him. Even while he is burning he feels her hand around his neck, as cold as death.
When he opened his eyes again, trembling from a nightmare and his mind still sleep-damp, Josiah was shaking him awake, his hand on Vin's neck. Quietly he gave Vin some hot coffee and Vin smiled at him, thinking how it was exactly what he needed and so like Josiah to assume that. Vin couldn't help wondering if Josiah had seen anything before; but if he had, he would never really show it. He let Josiah sleep, wandering around aimlessly, passing in and out of the trees, trying not to stand near Chris's sleeping figure and stare at him as if somehow he could figure out what in hell had happened earlier and what they would do about it in the days to come. He found himself a downed tree to sit on, chewing on some jerky and keeping his mind on other things -- the fire, finding their prisoner, what they would do when they got back. But each thought led Vin back to Chris atop him, Chris touching him and kissing him, and how eagerly he had responded.
When it was time to wake Chris for the last watch, Vin knelt above him and touched his shoulder lightly. Chris could be a very heavy sleeper, he'd learned, and tended to be easily startled at times, so Vin just rested his hand on him softly for a while until Chris became aware of him and opened his eyes. For a moment they looked at each other in silence, calm and trusting, until Chris sat up and brushed himself off. He picked up Vin's rifle, as he always did when he had a watch, and nodded at Vin as if nothing were different. Vin lay back down and pulled the blanket over him, aware only of Chris's dark shape at the treeline and the silence of the night.
Chris watched him settle in, knowing that Vin was looking at him even though he couldn't see his eyes. He leaned with his back against a tree, cradling the rifle in his arms, breathing deeply. Out here there was no smell of smoke or burned wood except that of their small campfire, no path of destruction. You would never know that only a few miles away lives had been wiped out, futures destroyed.
He still felt as if this followed him like some kind of cloud, its evil luck skulking after him. He knew of Vin's worries that their prisoner might be here because of Ella and figured this fire must have put Vin to conjuring up even worse thoughts. Yet he couldn't work up the concern to really care about Ella, especially after watching those flames jump across Vin's hair and kerchief. In that moment every fear he had was concentrated, and his own inability to act just made him more fearful. After all he'd lost, the notion of losing Vin had been so overpowering as to paralyze him, making him aware that all the feelings that had been resurrected in him the past few days were stronger than he'd ever thought possible. If he'd doubted their realness, if he'd misunderstood what his own heart and head had been telling him before, he'd gotten it completely in that moment. Vin was everything to him now, the only thing standing between him and emptiness, the person holding one end of a long, red thread of life that ended inside himself. He couldn't cut that thread or let Vin lose hold of it, not now.
Chris's greatest fear was that when he stopped looking for the person who'd killed his family and it was all over, he would have no more reason to exist. It had come to consume his life and define his character. Even with friends like Buck, even with work, he could not imagine what point there was to existence after all that. He'd let Ella get away and sometimes he wondered if he'd done that on purpose, like his mind had known that without her to chase after he would just give up and die. And maybe Vin had figured that too; maybe Vin knew somehow that Chris had just stopped caring. His answers had been found. What more could he get except simple revenge, and what good was that? All Vin's prodding and support had brought him back to life, but once they finally did get Ella, what then?
Maybe this thread between them, this connection to life, would be the thing to keep Chris going. Only he wasn't sure anymore if he wanted that or not. He'd become so used to his own bitterness, his comfortable aching, that he didn't know if he could truly let Vin in the way he deserved. But did desperation explain why he would make love to Vin?
For pretty much his entire life he'd been wild. Even as a young man he'd been desperate to run off and make his own way, as far away as possible from his family in Indiana. He hadn't wanted to live the life of a property owner, he'd wanted only to slip the traces of his father's life and find what he thought of then as adventure. And he'd happily lived that life for all those years, first on his own, then with Ella. But the end had come surprisingly as he found himself stopping, reined hard to the ground when he'd discovered what it truly meant to merit someone's love and devotion with Sarah.
Chris looked over at the sleeping figures of Vin and Josiah. Maybe all these terrible events were some kind of divine retribution for how he'd lived his life before. It was easy not to believe in God, easy to hate him if he did exist, but Chris still couldn't shake the messages of his upbringing that led him to wonder if he was now suffering for his reproach of all the things he'd been taught. As if suffering carried along with him, touching each person's life, adding to his own.
When Vin had taken up with him he'd lost the chance to right his own wrongs, and now Vin had only this life, unsafe, always uncertain. Even though Chris had no regrets about shooting Eli Joe, not when it meant saving Vin's life, he knew that Vin had placed all his hopes for a different future on keeping that man alive. Now he was adrift, as though the boat he'd been holding all those notions in had split apart and he was left holding on to only a mast or spar, floating downtide. If he felt lost, was that the only reason he stuck by Chris's side? And was it right to take advantage of that?
It shamed him so to think of leaving Vin, especially for Ella, when he had tied his life so thoroughly to Chris's own. How blind Chris had been, how willfully ignorant. And Vin accepted him still, asked no more of him than friendship. But Chris was back to being his old self, his wild self, thinking only of satisfaction and desires. Vin would probably argue like hell, tell him that no one was capable of taking advantage of him, but Chris couldn't scrub the notion from his mind that he had misused Vin's affections for him.
It would have been easier if Vin had done exactly what Chris thought he would do -- punch him hard, knock him to the ground and call him terrible names. To have Vin respond so intensely, to feel that heat and want surrounding him like the flames of that fire, only made him less sure of the path he'd chosen and the actions he'd taken.
By the time Chris had finished mulling this over, the twilight of dawn was painting the sky over the trees, and he went over on stiff legs to wake Vin and Josiah. He gave them some coffee and food, then they ate silently. Each time he would look over at Vin he would see those blue eyes watching him carefully. He didn't know what to do about that silent scrutiny; there were things he needed to say to Vin, but he had no idea what they were or how to find that voice.
Vin tossed the remaining coffee on the fire before they saddled up, accepting that Chris was going to be silent for now. He wondered if it would be just for now, though, or if Chris would stay this way, leaving Vin to guess what his feelings and affections were.
At the very least he wished for some kind of acknowledgement. He trusted Chris to be silent and remote, that was simply their way together. But Chris seemed to be avoiding his eyes, as though he was ashamed not just of what they'd done, but of even admitting that it had happened.
It confounded Vin. He didn't often think of Chris as the type to regret much; he seemed to accept his decisions and actions, even if they were wrong, and then move on. If this was how he was going to act, well, Vin wasn't going to push him. But it didn't mean he had to like it.
Without talking, then, they carefully headed out on the trail. They spent the better part of the morning following some scant signs that neither Josiah nor Chris could even see, but they trusted Vin to know what he was looking for. If their prisoner was on foot he couldn't have gotten much headway on them. Still, it was slow going. The trail was leading closer to Greenville, but Chris wasn't convinced the man would be stupid enough to head to the nearest town. It surprised Chris that he hadn't made a straight line to Red Fork, but Vin was pretty sure of his footing here and that wasn't where they were going so Chris kept his mouth shut.
It was getting on to evening when Vin dismounted and looked around, kneeling down on the ground for a moment. Josiah and Chris gave each other speaking looks and Josiah shrugged. Vin sprang up and got into the saddle, and said, "This way," but he'd spun perpendicular to their current trail and taken off. All Josiah said when Chris looked at him was, "The man follows his instincts, so we'd best follow them, too." They rode off slowly, following Vin at a distance.
After a time Chris grew exasperated, but he couldn't quite figure out why. He hadn't exactly been chatty or friendly to Vin after last night, so he shouldn't be expecting reciprocal courtesies and small talk. On the other hand, Vin wasn't usually so silent as to leave them confused. It was certainly true that Vin wasn't the most talkative man around, he said just about only what was needed, but usually he would let them in on what he was doing.
So Chris gave in and caught up to Vin. "Mind filling us in?"
Vin looked over his shoulder at him, sizing him up. He knew Chris thought he was being sullen, but it wasn't that. He just wasn't going to play that game. Whenever Chris felt like telling him what was on his mind, then he would, and wild horses wouldn't drag it out of him sooner. So there was no use wasting words or worry over it. "I know where he's going." Josiah rode up hard behind them.
"You're heading back in the wrong direction," Chris said.
Vin shook his head. "What do most folks do when they get lost?"
Josiah thought for a moment. "Cry?"
That got a little smile from Vin. "Folks who don't know how to find their way or can't follow stars or the sun, they tend to go round in circles."
Chris raised his eyebrows. "But how do you know where his circle is?"
"It's a wide one. He don't know it, but he's heading back yonder -- to town."
"So we're going back to town to catch him?" Josiah asked.
"Nope. We'll meet up with him tomorrow."
Chris liked his confidence. He always had. There was something attractive and comforting about it at the same time. Not an arrogance, nothing like it in fact, just a quiet satisfaction with his own knowledge and abilities. In someone so young it could be unpleasant, but with Vin it never rubbed anyone the wrong way. He was momentarily seized with a need to reach across and touch Vin, place a hand on his shoulder or feel the back of his hand under his own fingertips.
They made camp and every time Vin looked at Chris, he would catch him watching him, then Chris would look away quickly. After a time Vin began to think of it as another game and would do something or look away just long enough to catch Chris watching him again.
They took the same watches as the night before, and Vin lay awake for awhile. Should he slide over to where Chris was, or would Chris do the same thing as before? But there wasn't the same amount of tree cover as the night before and there would be no real hiding from Josiah's eyes. Even without that preoccupation, the thought of having a dream like last night's was enough to keep him awake.
In the morning they followed Vin where he expected their quarry's trail to lead. They hid themselves in thickets of mesquite and chaparral and waited, Vin checking their surroundings with his spyglass from time to time. Finally, shortly after noon, there he was, stumbling along, searching for water. Chris was surprised that he hadn't come upon some poor traveler and stolen his horse and food, but apparently he'd had no luck in that area and their prisoner was obviously wanting for both.
On Chris's count they sprang out, guns drawn, and the man stopped, glared at them, and then put his hands in the air silently. Chris tied him by a long rope to his horse, muttering, "Clearly, he can walk."
It was one night and another half-day back to Four Corners. At least they had something to concentrate on, Vin thought, and he wouldn't have to wonder at what Chris was thinking or trying to guess what he'd do next. Instead he turned his thoughts to finding out what their prisoner knew and the various ways he could get it out of him. Now there was something to make a man smile.
End Part 2
10/6/01