Buck and the
others had been riding for two hours when they found Vin’s trail. J.D. had learned well from Vin and had found
Peso’s tracks that seemed to be following a group of other tracks. Buck guessed it was the Cheyenne group that Chris
was riding with.
As J.D.
tracked Vin’s progress, he mentioned to the others that it led up the
hillside. Josiah, being well acquainted
with people of the plains, explained that they should go slow. They did not know what lay on the other side
of the hill and they did not want to jeopardize Vin’s or Chris’ lives by
barreling down into the camp.
Josiah sat on
his horse, pensively thinking about their situation. He knew Vin was captured by the Cheyenne, that there was no
doubt. He would have come back to them
otherwise. Chris was still in the
throes of memory loss and probably believed that all white men were his enemy,
so that meant that Vin had no chance in hell of getting Chris to help him
escape. They needed a plan and
fast. Time was running out for both
their friends.
Josiah knew
that sometimes diplomacy could win a war instead of force. Maybe they could talk to the Cheyenne Chief
and bargain for Vin’s and Chris’ lives.
But he knew it would be a long shot.
There was nothing that a People of the Plains would want from white men,
except that they leave their land and that had been a large obstacle for them
for so long.
Buck turned
to see that Josiah was deep in thought. He did not know if it was about their
friends or something else. Whatever it
was, Josiah’s mind did not seem to be among them. Nathan also noticed the same thing. Unlike Buck, he knew his friend was deep in thought about their
missing friends. He was curious to know what he thought they should do.
“Josiah, what
cha thinkin’?”
“Well,
Nathan. I’m thinking about how we gonna
get them back without havin’ to start a war.”
“Do you have
a plan?” asked Buck, interested now.
“Sort
of. The way I’m thinking, brother, is
that if we go in there shooting, the Cheyenne might try to take their revenge
out on Vin and Chris.”
“So, what
else can we do?” asked J.D., concerned for both his friends and their own
lives.
“Well, by my
experience, the Cheyenne are very proud and honorable people. Much more than the average white man, who
has come to plunder his land. As the
Lord says the meek shall inherit the Earth.
And so they have, even against the belief of all of civilized man. And by this reasoning, I believe we can
parley with them. As long as it’s on their own terms.”
“And what pray
tell made you come up with that summation, Mr. Sanchez?”
“Well,
Ezra. For one thing, we have no other
options left. The one person who
might’ve had a chance is held prisoner among them. The other one has become one of them. Do ya have any other suggestions, brother?”
Ezra glanced
at the Preacher in exasperation.
No. He did not have any
suggestions. He just did not think that
reasoning with these natives would help their comrades.
Josiah saw
that he did not and said, “I didn’t think so.
So, as I was saying, brother, maybe we can bargain with them for Vin and
Chris.”
“Well, Mr.
Sanchez, you may be able to bargain for Mr. Tanner’s emancipation but did you
disregard the fact that Mr. Larabee is now a native of the plains and might not
be in an agreeable mood to abscond from his current situation?”
“I did think
of that, Ezra. But you must remember, Chris doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s
unaware of his past. I think if we just
go and talk to the chief and explain to him what we know about how Chris became
the way he is and how much he means to us, I have a feeling that he won’t
object to us talking to Chris.”
“And what of
Mr. Tanner?”
“Well, I
figured they not going to do anything to him until a tribal hearing. It’s their law. They are not savages, contrary to what you believe. I’ve had dealings in this type of
situation. I could stand in and
represent him.”
“Josiah, ya
think ya cin talk ta them?”
“Yeah,
Nathan. I think it’s worth a try. Better than Buck’s idea.”
Buck turned to
look at Josiah in shock and hurt.
“What’s wrong with my idea?”
“Nothing,
Buck, unless you call riding into that camp, guns ablaze’ a good plan.”
“At least we
git Chris and Vin outta there.”
“Yeah and the
rest of us killed,” replied Nathan from under his breath.
Buck turned
to look at him, disappointment mirrored in his blue eyes.
“What was
that, Nathan?”
“Nothin’,
Buck,” said Nathan quickly.
“He’s right,
Buck,” said J.D. in agreement.
“What the hell
would you know about it, kid!” exclaimed Buck angry now.
“Now, now,
Mr. Wilmington. The boy is only stating
an actual truth.”
“Shut up,
Ezra!” yelled both J.D. and Buck simultaneously.
Ezra looked
at both of them, shrugging his shoulders.
Ezra knew he was right and they both also knew Ezra was right. It was why it bothered them so much.
“So,
Josiah. What do we do?” asked Nathan,
now concerned that they were going to walk into something they could not
handle.
Josiah looked
at them. He then bowed his head. When
he lifted his head again, he eased his horse towards the Cheyenne camp and
started reciting. “Yea, thou I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art
with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.”
The others
looked at him strangely, not knowing what Josiah had in mind, but they would
follow where Josiah would lead them, for they knew his purpose was clear and
they had no other options left.
Vin awoke
with a start. His head pained him and
the rest of him did not feel much better.
He could not remember where he was.
The last thing he remembered was the Cheyenne had captured him. But then a flash of memory came to him and
he saw Chris with a knife, holding it threateningly towards him.
“Chris!” he
almost cried out, sitting up quickly.
He searched the area with his blue eyes and came to rest on a form lying
on the other side, curled into a ball as if he was in pain. He realized it was not a dream. He did find Chris and now his friend was
asleep across from him. He was
surprised that his movements had not awoken him. Usually, the slightest sound would awake the lean gunfighter and
he would be alert. But he remembered
that earlier, Chris was not well, and he attributed this to the fact that he
slept so soundly.
He also
remembered that Chris still did not remember who he was and that it had become
a struggle to prove to Chris that he was not here to harm him. He watched as Larabee’s chest moved up and
down with the motions of deep sleep. He
had caused pain for his friend earlier, although he did not mean to. Chris was his closest friend, and it gripped
Vin’s heart like a vise to think that Chris would think he would harm him in
anyway. He wished Nathan were here
among them. He could probably find out
what was wrong with Chris and how to fix it.
Then he
thought about his conversation with Ezra. He ran his fingers through his sweat
bound brown hair. “What if he could not
convince Chris to listen to him or remember who he was?” He would then be forced to admit defeat and
do as Ezra suggested. It angered
Vin. Life was not fair. Not for Larabee, and not for him. Chris had suffered so much pain in his life,
losing his wife and child, Ella Gaines, Jericho, and so many other
incidents. It seemed he had found
happiness in forgetfulness. “But how
could he forget about them and the other friends he had in Four Corners. What
would make a man bury what he was and who his friends were?”
Suddenly, a
thought came to him. “What if Chris had
forgotten because he had given up on his old life? What if all the pain he had suffered over the past few years
became finally too much?” He knew how
hard it would be to deal with the lost of so many loved ones. He realized that fate, or life or whatever
you want to call it, had not dealt Chris Larabee a very good hand. He thought he had found peace in Four
Corners and people who he cared about and cared about him. But maybe it came too late. Too late to really help him see how good his
life really was.
From the
direction of the sleeping Chris Larabee, Vin heard a moan. He turned his attention to the lying form
and noticed that he was tossing in his sleep.
Vin slowly and cautiously rose from his own bed, ignoring the pain as he
did, and crept over to his friend. He
noticed that Chris face was pale and beads of sweat were streaming down his
face. It looked as if he was in the
midst of acquiring a fever, but he did not know why. From what he noticed, most of Chris’ wounds were healed or
healing. None of them looked to have
any infection. The only thing that
bothered him about Chris’ condition was the fact that he had headaches. He knew it was probably a symptom of his
head wound, but he was no Nathan. As he
stared at the restless form, wondering what he was going to do, he saw that
Chris’ eyes were open and he was lucid green eyes staring back at him.
“Hey,
Pard. Glad ta see ya awake.”
Chris did not
answer him. He only kept looking at the
stranger as he laid on the pallet curled into a ball.
“Ya feelin’
better now?”
Chris nodded,
but still did not speak. He was tired
of talking. He wanted the dreams to
stop. He wanted this man to go away. He
wanted to be left in peace. He wanted
to marry Mapiya and have many children.
He wanted much. He wanted
more. But he also knew that these
things might not be possible. That
fate, in the guise of young brown-haired, blue eyed man, would not let him be
happy.
“Do ya feel
like talkin’?” asked Vin, tentatively.
He was afraid of their earlier performance and did not want to cause any
more pain to his friend.
Chris nodded
slowly. He sluggishly rose from his
lying position into a cross-legged sitting position. Vin then did the same to face him directly. Blue eyes looking into green, trying to find
some inkling of what Chris was feeling.
“Do ya
remember who I am?”
“You are Vin
Tanner.”
“Ya
remembered!” burst out Vin. He was
ecstatic that Chris remembered his name.
“You told me
before,” replied Chris, looking at Vin bewildered.
Vin was downhearted. He had mistakenly thought Chris’ memory was
returning.
“No,” was all
Chris simply replied.
“What do you
remember, cowboy?”
“I ain’t no
cowboy.”
Vin smiled at
that comment. It was like the old Chris
was coming back.
“What’s so
funny?”
“Ya always
hate being called a cowboy.”
“I do?”
“Yep. That word always pisses ya off somethin’
fierce.”
Chris smiled at
his statement and lowered his head in thought.
He liked this man. He was
different from the way the people explained how white men were. If there were more like him, the Cheyenne
would not have the trouble they did now.
But of course, he knew this man was unique and there were probably not
many like him around.
“I met
Mapiya.”
Chris head
came up at the name. He gazed at the
man in astonishment.
“She seems
like a nice girl.”
“She is. She is Chief Aenohe’s daughter. A wise woman. She saved my life and took care of me.”
“She did,
huh? How did she find ya?”
Chris face
scrunched up in concentration. He then
gradually started to tell Vin what Mapiya had told him about how they found
him. Once his tale was done, Vin
whistled in amazement. Damn! Chris had been shot with an arrow in the
back, fell off his horse pushing it through his chest and then kicked in the
head by Pony. No wonder he could not
remember anything.
“Ya been
through a lot, Chris.”
“I told my
name is Emo'ôhtavo vo'e.” said Chris defiantly.
“I know. But yaur name is Chris Larabee too.”
“Chris
Larabee?”
“Yeah. That’s yaur name, Pard. You are a peacekeeper for a town called Four
Corners.”
“Four. . .
Corners,” said Chris, testing the name on his tongue.
“Yep. You and me and five other men. We are the law there.”
“That sounds
like a good occupation,” said Chris, matter-of-factly. “It sounds like I was doing something good.”
“Ya are Chr.
. . I mean Emo'ôhtavo vo'e.”
“Mapiya. . .
she would. . . be proud of me,” said Chris haltingly.
“Sure she
would be, Pard.” Vin saw the look Chris
had whenever he spoke the woman’s name.
“Ya two are
close, huh?”
“She is to be
my wife,” was Chris’ response.
Vin was in
utter shock. They had arrived too
late. Chris was infatuated with the
woman and now he planned to marry her.
This was not good. Not good at
all.
“Uh, when is
the wedding?”
“As soon as I
can convince her father that I am the one for her. I will be planning on asking
him tonight.”
It took all
the control Vin had not to start yelling at Chris that he was crazy as a rabid
dog. But he knew Chris was not in his
right mind and if he objected he would probably loose Chris for sure.
“I see. Let me ask ya question.”
Chris glared
at him suspiciously. He had a bad
feeling about the man’s question.
“And what is
that?”
“Cin ya help
me get out of here? My friends are
probably worried about me.”
“That is not
up to me. That will be up to Chief
Aenohe and tribal leaders. They are the
only ones who can make that decision.”
“I thought
so. Dang!”
“What’s
wrong?”
“My head
hurts. Feels like someone had hit it
with a hammer. Several times, as a
matter of fact.”
Chris stood
up and walked over to the other side of the tipi. He grabbed a cup and a water skin. He poured the liquid into the cup and handed it to Vin.
“Drink.”
“What is it?”
asked Vin, eyeing the cup doubtfully.
“It is
something that will make your head feel better.”
“Like it did
yaurs?”
“Humph,”
answered Chris nodding.
Vin took the
proffered cup and sipped at the liquid.
It tasted a little like Nathan’s horse piss teas.
“I know,”
said Chris as he watched Vin’s mouth screw up in disgust. “It may taste bad,
but it works.”
Vin finished
the liquid and handed Chris back the cup.
Chris placed the items from where he took them. He then walked back over to where Vin sat
and took his place again directly across from him.
“Tell me
more, . . . about Chris. . . Larabee.”
Vin
smiled. He had finally got to him. He felt this was a good sign. Maybe after he had told Chris about who he
was and where he was from his memory might come back.
“Well, . . .” and Vin started to relate to Emo'ôhtavo vo'e who he really
was.
Disclaimer: I
do not own the Magnificent Seven or the characters. I do not use this forum for profit. I do own the story and it’s premises.
Warnings: H/C
of my favorites Chris and Vin with some romance intertwined.
Notes: While watching the Magnificent 7
tapes over and over and over, I noticed that they lacked interaction with some
Native Americans. I have done a lot of
research on this aspect of the show and during the 1870s Four Corners was the
cornucopia of Native American historical and geographical richness.
***************************************************************************************************************
Chapter 17
Vin and the
man once known as Chris Larabee, now known as Emo'ôhtavo vo'e sat and talked
the day away. Vin explained to Chris
who he was and what he knew of his past.
When Emo'ôhtavo vo'e heard that he had had a wife and child and how they
were killed, a flash of memory of a beautiful young woman and a little boy,
waving to him as he rode away, jumped into his mind. Then he saw a fire and the
woman and child screaming for help and the house a burnt rubble, the bodies
unrecognizable.
Rage and
hatred for the people who had done this to his family started to fight for
control of his soul. He could feel his
heart beating wildly. Why would someone
do that to two innocent people? What
did they do that would earn them such a death sentence? Then a thought occurred to him. Maybe it was not something they did, but
something he did. Was he responsible
for his family’s death?
All at once,
he found that he could not breathe. He
fought desperately to pull air into his lungs.
Pain exploded into his head as if lightening had struck him. He grabbed his head and fell back onto his
mat in agony, still breathing harshly.
Vin jumped up
and seized Chris by the shoulders, as Chris tried to roll back in forth, still
clutching his head. He knew his friend
was suffering, but he did not know why.
“Chris, what’s wrong?” Chris heard Vin’s urgent question, but had not
the strength to answer. He was in the
throes of the pain that was trying to burst out of his head. He was becoming nauseous. His chest felt as if someone had dropped
boulders on to it, preventing air from reaching his lungs. He desperately tried
to bring air into chest, only to cause his head to ache more. Movement only brought more suffering.
Vin was
trying to calm his friend so that he could find out what was bringing him so
much agony. “Chris, answer me!” said Vin, as he tried to roll Chris over so
that he could look at him. It took time
before he could grab Chris as he jerked in spasms, but once he had that
accomplished, he could not see what was wrong.
He only saw distress in his friend’s soft green eyes, pleading for him
to make it stop. He could also see that
Chris was struggling to breathe and that he was starting to shiver all
over. He knew the man was going into
some type of shock and he quickly grabbed a blanket from the side of the tipi
and wrapped it gently around him. He
then again tried to remove Chris’ hands from his head, but it was a battle,
even in Chris’ weakened condition. “Chris, come on now. Ya gotta calm down. Take in some deep breaths, Chris. Ya cin do it,” said Vin, speaking softly,
trying to soothe Chris, hoping he could get through to him. He watched as Chris
strove to comply with his friend’s wishes, but the pain was winning and all he
could hear was his the thumping in his head and heart. Chris just wanted to die at that
moment. The pain was worst than the
first day he awoke to find Mapiya standing over him. His eyes teamed with rivets of salty water ran down his
cheeks. He could no longer keep his
eyes open. All he wanted was release
from the agony in his head. Vin watched
as his green eyes seem to close, but he knew Chris was still conscious and
suffering, and he could do nothing about it.
Suddenly, the
flap to the tipi opened wide and Mapiya stepped in, carrying wood for the
fire. She quickly dropped her bundle at
her feet once she saw what was happening, and ran over to where Vin was
wrestling with Chris. She knelt down beside them, her eyes wide with concern.
“What happened?” she asked frantically, afraid that the stranger had done
something to her love, Emo'ôhtavo vo'e. Vin glanced at her quickly, but kept
his eyes mainly on Chris. “Don’t
rightly know, ma’am.”
Mapiya
quickly took charge. She had seen
Emo'ôhtavo vo'e like this before. She
knew what had to be done. First she motioned for Vin to help her get Chris into
a seated position. It was not very
hard. Vin noticed that Chris was
lighter than he usually was and he attributed this to his being sick, but it
made it easier for them to move him.
Once Mapiya had helped Vin to pull Chris into a seated position, she
then bundling him in the blanket, leaning Emo'ôhtavo vo'e towards her, with his
back lying gently nestled against her. While Vin held Chris’ hands away from
his head, Mapiya took his head delicately into her hands and started kneading
his temples, ever so lightly. She
continued to do this, while Chris eyes were closed firm against the pain and
Vin held his hands down by his side.
“Tell me what
happened.” Mapiya wanted to know
exactly what made the pain return in the way it had. She wanted to know everything.
“I don’t
know,” said Vin, looking at her momentarily, as he continued to try and calm
Chris down by rubbing his hands softly in his.
“We were talkin’, getting’ along fine.
I was tellin’ ‘im about his past and all of sudden; he doubled over in
pain. I think he’s going into shock.”
Mapiya glared
at him, with anger and concern, believing that this man had caused pain for her
love. “What is sh..ac..k?” she
asked. She had never heard of such a
thing.
Vin could her
the disdain in her voice and knew she was angered, but his reply was tactful.
“Shock. It’s when a person is sick or
hurt, as Nathan tells it and the body cain’t deal with it,” Vin explained
quickly, still trying to keep hold of Chris’ hands as Chris continued to fight
against him. “They usually get real cold and sometimes they could die from it.”
Mapiya knew
nothing of this thing called shock. She
did know though that she had seen Emo'ôhtavo vo'e have these fits from time to
time. But she thought they were getting
better. Now this stranger had come and
they started all over again. She did
not like where this was leading.
After a
while, Chris shivers started to subside a little and his face started to relax
some. He started breathing in deep,
slow breaths and Mapiya watched him anxiously, waiting for what she knew was
coming next, but not stopping her ministrations.
A few minutes
more and Chris finally completely relaxed in the warmth and loving arms of
Mapiya, his eyes closed and Mapiya knew the pain was fading and he was falling
asleep. She cautiously arose from her position behind Chris and moved Vin
smoothly aside. With his help, they
then situated Chris upon his sleeping pallet, wrapping the blanket taut around
him. She then walked over to the wall of the tipi and came back with a cup with
some liquid in it. She then placed some
dried leaves and ground them into the liquid with her fingers. Once that was finished, she bade Vin to hold
Emo'ôhtavo vo'e up and placed the cup to his lips. Chris felt the cold cup against his lips, not knowing how great
his thirst truly was. Keeping his eyes
closed he drank the bitter tasting drink down in several large gulps. He then turned his head away, signaling to
Vin and Mapiya that he had had enough.
Mapiya then motioned for Vin to ease him back on the pallet. She placed her hand on his head, checking
for fever, but it was cool and wet. Now satisfied that everything had be done
that could be done and she knew that was deeply asleep, she knelt over and
kissed him gently on the forehead wishing her love pleasant dreams. She then turned to face the stranger and to
deal with other things.
Vin sighed
with relief once he saw his friend sleeping peacefully. “Does this happen
often?” He spun around to face Mapiya and saw her scrutinizing him with deep
seeing brown eyes.
“It was
better before, . . .” replied Mapiya, without thought, glancing back at her
love, her eyes in concern for no one else.
“Before
what?” asked Vin, concerned now that he had caused Chris’ pain.
Mapiya turned
back to him and she found herself looking into a pair of worried blue eyes. She
saw that this man really did care about her love. Perhaps she had judged him too quickly. “I did not mean, . . . I meant that . . . I am sorry. It was not
you.”
“Then
what?” Vin did not want to believe that
he was the cause of Larabee’s pain. Chris
was his friend and friends did not hurt friends. He stood anxiously awaiting her reply. He was not prepared for what came next.
Mapiya held
her hand up for silence. Mapiya was a
wise woman and she knew he blamed himself for his friend’s pain. “I do not
believe you are the cause. I believe he
remembers. I think that causes pain for
him. I tried to get him to talk with
our holy man or what you whites call a medicine man. I wished to make him well.”
In his mind,
Vin knew that Mapiya was right, but his heart would not let it go so
readily. In the end, though, he decided
it would be best to let it be for now.
They had Chris to worry about and he needed to find a way to help his
friend. “Did he go?”
“No. You came and then other things happened. We had no time.”
Suddenly, a
thought came to him. “I have a friend that I think cin help ‘im. He’s a medicine man and he knows about
things like this.”
Mapiya
thought on his statement. She did not like seeing her love in pain. If there were someone who could help her
love, she would be willing to do anything to bring him here. “Where is he now?” she asked excitedly.
“I left them
to scout ahead. We did not want yaur
people ta think that we are here ta harm them.
We were just lookin’ for our friend.”
“Can he help?
Is this what you believe?” Mapiya’s questions came fast.
“I think he
can. He is good a making people
better.”
Mapiya nodded
in understanding. She wanted her love
better, but would it mean losing him.
They were to be married. They
were to have a life together and they both wished it. Would he wish it so if he knew of his past? This is what troubled Mapiya the most. But then she remembered what her father had
said. If she did not help, she would
loose him anyway. She would rather loose
him to his past, than loose him to her betrayal. It was the not way of her people. Deceit only achieved bad medicine. It was part of the
commandments of the Cheyenne. “Be
truthful and honest at all times.
Especially be truthful and honest with your self.” It was written in the wind, the earth and
the sky. She would follow no other path
as a Cheyenne.
“I will talk
to my father,” announced Mapiya determinedly.
She then gazed at the sleeping blonde.
“I love him too much to hurt him.
If he remembers or not, then it is the will of Ma'heo'o. I will live
with what he decides.”
She then
turned back to Vin. “You must
rest. You are not well. I will bring some water and food after I
talk to my father and make you some hohpe. . . I think you call it soup?”
Vin
nodded. He could see that Chris was a
lucky man. Mapiya was a strong woman
and it would take only that type of woman to earn the love of one Chris
Larabee. Vin went back to his own bed
and laid down, feeling the aches and pain returning. He watched as Mapiya walked out of the tipi into the settling sun
of evening.
Josiah and
the others had arrived just outside of the camp at dusk. The little village seemed to be getting
ready for the evening repast. Josiah
and others, lying on their bellies in the high grass, watched the camp, trying
to be inconspicuous and trying to see if they could sign any signs of where
their friends were being held. He then
motioned for them to move slowly and quietly back down the hill. They all followed his lead and once down the
hill, he motioned them to lead their mounts further to the West, away from the
hill so as not to attract any of the Cheyenne sentries’ attention.
As soon as he
deemed them far enough that sound would not carry, he knelt down and bade the
others to do the same in a circle. “Well, their getting ready to settle down
for the night,” stared Josiah.
“So, what cha
thinkin’, Josiah?” asked J.D. He wanted
to know what the big preacher had in mind.
Josiah had been very quiet on their way to the camp and had not
mentioned his thoughts to any of them.
J.D. had tried to question him several times on the ride, by Josiah just
kept saying there was a time for everything and now was not the time. Well, he hoped now was the time.
“Well, J.D.,
what I’m thinking is that we all should not go down there right away. We should wait until daylight so that they
don’t think we’re trying some sort of attack.”
The others nodded that they agreed with this plan. “The other thing I’m thinking is that me and
Nathan should be the ones to address their tribal council about Vin and Chris.”
At this
statement, Buck jumped up and yelled, “No way, Josiah! How do we know if they gonna listen? They might decide ta kill all of ya and then
where will Chris and Vin be. They’re my
friends too!”
“Buck! Buck!
Settle down. They all of our
friends. You ain’t the only one concern
about ‘em,” said Nathan, trying to get the man to lower his voice.
“Yes, Mr.
Wilmington. Please do be quiet. I have a feeling that you probably have
woken every native from here to Four Corners and just now told them where we
are,” Ezra replied, looking cautiously around the area they were now situated.
“Listen you
fancy pants!” Buck exclaimed his voice volume lowered, but not his intent
behind it. His blue eyes glared deathly at Ezra. “You ain’t got no right
tellin’ me what to do! And if I had a
mind to, I’d shoot ya right where ya are.
So don’t tempt me.”
Ezra rolled
his eyes up to the heavens. He did not
know why he put up with these heathens.
His mother had told him many times that he was destined for greatness
and this town he served to protect was not a place to achieve his goals. But the men he had come to feel close to,
closer than anyone he had ever known except his mother, were there. And that was where he would be found. Right
by their side. He understood Buck’s
feeling of inadequacy, but what Buck did not understand was that one Chris
Larabee and one Vin Tanner had changed his life forever. There were several
occasions when he had a chance to flee to a more civilized climate, but there
was something that always kept him in this godforsaken town called Four
Corners. It went by the guise of a
grungy looking tracker and an ominous man in black. Here he would stay until those two men were safely back home or
at least to some semblance of a home, which resided in Four Corners. “Mr.
Wilmington. What I suggest we do is
concentrate on relieving our two comrades from their native incarceration. If you feel you must result to violence at
some time in the near future, then so be it.
But for now we have only one goal.
That is to alleviate our companions from their involuntary
imprisonment.”
“And that is
where my plan comes in,” answered Josiah.
“The best way to do that is for me and Nathan alone to go into the
village and bargain for their release.
This is one time that being a good shot ain’t going to help. I am known as a holy man among the Cheyenne
and I can introduce Nathan as a healer, a medicine man. They’re looking out for
marauding white men. As such we are not a threat to them.”
“I don’t
know, Josiah. It’s really chancy. I
just hope ya right. If not, we might
loose you and them both,” piped in J.D.
“The boy is
right, Josiah,” said Buck, a little calmer.
He knew that Ezra was right and he knew that J.D. was right, but it did
not dissuade the turbulence that his stomach was taking.
J.D., on the
other hand, was apprehensive at the compliment. For Buck to say he was right meant that Buck was really hurting
about Chris and Vin. He knew Buck would
never agree as long as he knew there was an outside chance of getting Chris and
Vin back in one piece. He saw the doubt
in the lady’s man body language and it gave J.D. chills.
Buck knew
that if they did one thing wrong, then not only Chris and Vin would die, but
Josiah and Nathan as well. He would
rather die first, as would they all, loose more of their companions. They were family, and maybe not by the blood
that flowed within their veins, but by the deeds and actions that they
displayed for each other together through the harshness of life.
“First of
all, Buck, I know I’m right and I ain’t no boy!” exclaimed J.D. He was trying to goad the tall man into an
argument, making him concentrate less on what might be. But Buck was not biting. He still stood, with his arms wrapped around
his chest, looking all the more lost.
“Of course you’re
not, son,” intervened Josiah. “Buck ain’t saying anything against you,
J.D. It’s just that we’re all just on
edge. But we gotta pull ourselves
together or it may cost us more than we can afford.”
Nathan and
Ezra nodded in agreement. So did Buck,
but reluctantly so. “Well, Josiah, if
we gotta do this, then let’s get to it,” replied J.D., hoping with all his
might that things could not get any worst than they already were.
“In a while,
J.D. In a while. Patience is a virtue sayeth the Lord.”
“Josiah, I
don’t think the Lord said that,” replied Nathan smiling.
“But he would
have sooner or later,” replied Josiah, smiling back. Nathan’s smile was infectious.
One by one they all smiled and soon they were laughing. Maybe things were not going to be so bad
after all.
Mapiya had
left and Vin had hoped that she was going to talk her father into listening. Vin had been dozing off and on throughout the
evening. He was very tired and hurting
from his run in with the Buffalo Clan warriors, but he considered himself very
lucky. If they really had wanted to
kill him, they would have, there was no doubt in his mind. Yes, he was very
lucky on all accounts.
He had just
closed his blue eyes again and started to drift off to sleep, when the sound of
the tipi flap opening awoke him. He sat
up, bringing pain to his side, trying to see the person who had entered. He assumed it was Mapiya and holding onto
his already painful ribs, he said, “Mapiya?
Is that you?” Vin looked
carefully, focusing his eyes on the shadow that stood outside the fire. He noticed the outline of a male form. So, it was not Mapiya.
“Who are
you?” asked Vin in Cheyenne. The figure
moved closer to the tipi fire. When Vin
could finally see the male’s features clearer, he took a quick intake of
breath. “You! What are you doing here?”
“These are my
people,” ó'kôhóme simply replied. He
then moved to the side of the tipi where Chris slept restlessly. ó'kôhóme stood
over him, glaring with animosity at the yellow-haired man who had cost him his
place within his father’s heart. His
mind and soul wanted this man dead.
Dead with no chance of returning.
He had lost his father’s admiration, his sister’s ear and the tribes’
trust. This man had cost him much, but
it would end soon.
To Vin, this
was the warrior who had talked to him several days ago. This was the warrior who had found Chris’
horse; who had told him to search among the Cheyenne for his friend. How did he get here and why? Vin watched the
changes on the man’s face. He had seen the look before. It was the same look that the men who wanted
him for the bounty he would bring had worn. Now this warrior, who Vin had
believed was gave him assistance when he needed it, stood over his friend with
the eyes of hatred and rage, seeming to want to act out his emotions on his
friend.
“You did not
answer. You said these are your
people. Then you knew he was here all
along,” stated Vin, nodding towards the sleeping form on the other side of the
tipi.
ó'kôhóme
awoke from his reverie. He then turned
a glare at the white man who had the ways of a Comanche. “Yes, strange one. I knew he was here. I was
there when my father and sister found him and brought him back here among our
people. I was also the loudest voice in
the camp to disagree with their decision.
But the people follow my father and my sister. The day I met you in the valley and you asked about the white man
who horse I had, I knew you would be the way for me to be rid of him! But you came too late!” said ó'kôhóme,
pulling his knife from his sheath and leaning over the sleeping Chris Larabee.
Vin was
startled by the action, but he knew if he was to keep his friend safe, he dare
not move. He knew the warrior would be very good with the knife he held and
could quickly slit Chris’ throat in an instance. Vin knew Chris’ life was currently in this warrior’s hands. He scrutinized the Cheyenne warrior as he
slowly knelt down next to Chris. As ó'kôhóme got closer to where he could see
the pulsing vein in the neck of Chris Larabee, displaying the life that beat
within his body, Chris stirred, turning over to his side to face Vin and ó'kôhóme.
ó'kôhóme immediately stood up straight and took a defensive stance, but soon
relaxed when he noticed that Chris still had not awoken. ó'kôhóme then turned
to glance at Vin and saw the look of concern and fear in his eyes. ó'kôhóme
could see that this man cared dearly for the one who slept and this made him
even more confident that he had chosen wisely in the strange one to be the
deliver of the yellow-haired one’s doom.
“So, you fear
for his life?”
“Yes. He is my friend and my brother.”
“He may be
your friend, but he is no longer your family.
He belongs to my father and my sister.
He has become Cheyenne. When I
had told you what I knew, I believed you would come quickly before it was too
late. Before he became part of the
Cheyenne, before he became Cheyenne.
But you did not. I waited
patiently but you did not come.”
“It was hard
for me to get here any sooner,” was all the Vin replied.
“But because
you did not come soon enough, the yellow-haired as worked his way into my
family, into my people, into my life.
But now, I will wait no more,” and he moved ever so swiftly and placed
the knife against Chris’ throat.
Chris shifted
ever so little, but it was just enough to place his neck harder against the
knife. Vin gasped at the sight, afraid
for his friend’s life. He tried to get
up from his pallet and ó'kôhóme saw this and motioned for him to lay back down.
“Do not
move! His life is in my hands and
yours,” said ó'kôhóme in a low voice as not to awaken the sleeping man.
He then heard
Vin’s plea. “Don’t do this. There will
be no good from it.”
“You know nothing of it, vé'ho'e! He tries to take the place of my brother, but my brother was an honorable Ch