M7*M7*M7
"Mr. Tanner, are you aware that you have a leg length discrepancy?" The Physical Therapist asked. She'd been measuring and scribbling for some time now.
"What's that mean?" Vin countered. Where was Ezra when you needed him for all them big words?
"It means that your left leg is longer than your right leg, nearly three eighths of an inch." She checked her measuring tape and notes. "That's a rather significant difference. Do you have back pain at all?"
"Hell yeah -" With a quick, apologetic look to this Nettie who had a frown exactly like his Nettie, he went on. "Since I'se sixteen or so I reckon. Was after that fella broke my knee, seemed like it started. Always feels better iffen I can rest m'self against something, take the weight off my left leg. That 'descrepit' thing cause that?"
"I wouldn't be surprised. I can have your doctor order a shoe lift for you, that ought to help take the strain off your back..." She set her tape and scribbling aside, and flipped the sheet back off Vin's feet. "I'm going to push against your foot, and I'd like you to push back as hard as you can..."
"Vin?" Nettie interrupted. "I'll be right back - I want to have a word with Nathan."
"Okay." Vin answered, a little puzzled. Seemed like every other thing he said had somebody goin' off to talk with Nathan. He wondered why that was.
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Nettie couldn't help feeling a sharp finger of fear trace itself up and down her spine as she rode the elevator to the first floor. Vin'd said some odd things in the County Hospital, though he'd never sounded so lucid and coherent, and she dreaded the prospect of having to send him back there. When they'd told her on the phone last night - and when she'd seen for herself this morning - that Vin wasn't himself, she told herself that it was temporary, he'd be better after he slept. Or after he ate. Or after he saw her.
But he wasn't better.
And the police were on their way.
She found Nathan in the hallway leading to the ER. Chris stood with him, both men grim and conspiring. "What are we going to do?" she demanded, not waiting for them to break their conversation. Her voice had an uncharacteristic level of panic to it. "The tales that boy is spinning will get him landed back on the Fourth Floor in a heart beat."
"I've been telling Chris - there is nothing we can do." Nathan sounded frustrated. "We can't stall the police, we can't deny them access to Vin. We have to tell them the truth. If Vin is delusional Nettie - -" his words stalled at the anger displayed plainly across her face. "If he is delusional - Nettie, he needs help. Now, I got in touch with Dr. Sykes. He'll be back in town tonight and said he'll come over and have a talk with Vin. See what's what."
"Dr. Sykes?" Chris asked.
"His psychiatrist." Nettie and Nathan told him.
"Psychiatrist?" Chris was clearly furious. "Nathan - you're just gonna up and commit Vin with no more than -"
"No! Chris - give me a little credit why don't you?" The long days and hours, and stress over Vin, were taking their toll on both men. "Dr. Sykes will just talk with Vin. As long as Vin isn't a danger to himself or anyone else, of course he's not going to commit him -" All three of them turned in surprise as JD skidded to a stop around the corner.
"Two detectives just went up the elevator looking for Vin..."
M7*M7*M7
Lyn, the physical therapist, got Vin out of bed and moved a few feet to the chair next to the window. It left him feeling a little light headed, but when she asked if he was okay, he only nodded and didn't let on. The stitches in his back pulled something dreadful too, and all the bruised and battered places on his body complained at the sudden movement. Nathan, his Nathan would have a fit, gettin' a body outta bed this soon.
Vin couldn't say he was especially happy with the flimsy night clothes he'd been given, and those socks - with the funny raised painting on the bottom - wouldn't keep his feet warm in July, much less this winter weather.
Suddenly, though not for the first time, Vin felt an aching longing to be home. His home. Back in town, the saloon, the boarding house, his Chris, his Nettie, his friends. These fellas were fine, as friendly and concerned as they could be. The hospital was takin' right good care of him, and he had nothing to complain of. But Lord God, he'd give anything to be back in his drafty room at the boarding house, eating real food, drinking whiskey and playing cards with the fellas.
His fellas.
The pain caught him ragged when it hit him for the first time that maybe they were lookin' for him. Maybe this Vin wasn't with them, like this Chris thought. Maybe his friends were out looking for him, maybe lost themselves in the blizzard, maybe giving him up for dead.
Maybe his horse missed him too.
That thought was about all Vin could take right now. As Lyn got the ivy in his right hand straightened out and on the same side of the bed as he was, Vin rested his head in his left hand, trying to push the pain - physical and emotional - away from himself. He had to concentrate, keep his head clear, if ever wanted to get back home again.
He saw their shoes first, two pair of black leather with some funny string lacing them up. Two men, dressed kinda the way the Judge usually did, except thinner material, no vest, no hats. One had his overcoat slung on his arm, the other still wore his.
"Mr. Tanner?" the man with his coat over his arm asked. He was tall and too thin. Vin nodded.
"I'm Detective King, and this is Detective Volk." the other detective was tall too, reminded Vin some of Buck, the way he was built. He already looked kinda bored with the whole thing. "My apologies Mr. Tanner that we weren't able to get your statement before this. The weather had everything shut down across the county. This is the first we were able to come to you."
Vin nodded, not sure what to say. Not sure what was bein' said. The both of 'em held out flaps of leather that no Indian woman worth her time would take claim for. Vin didn't get a real good look at whatever he might be supposed to look at before they tucked them away again.
"We stopped downstairs and talked with your surgeon." the first man went on. "She said you're doing well, better than expected. She said it'd be all right if we came up and asked you some questions."
"Miss?" the second man addressed himself to Lyn. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to leave while we question Mr. Tanner here." He sounded like he might be from Texas, and Vin froze. Maybe he was from Tascosa?
"Of course." She picked up her papers and measuring tape and started to leave the room.
"Ma'am?" Vin tried to keep the panic out of his voice. "You see if you can scare up one a'my friends for me? I been feelin' poorly -" he added to the two men, hoping they believed the sort of lie. "Feel better if somebody was nearby." They nodded, but Vin could tell they weren't convinced. Lyn apparently could tell it too, her eyes flicked nervously from one to the other, but she nodded.
"Sure."
When she left, the bored man shut the door. Vin's panic edged up a notch. "We just want to get your statement on this incident." he started talking before he even turned back.
"Statement?"
"We'd like you to tell us exactly what happened." the first man - King - explained. He'd laid his overcoat on the bed, and was leaning against the window sill. "What led up to you being attacked near that cabin the other day." As he spoke, he pulled some little paper and a pencil out of his jacket pocket.
Sporting a blank face that he thought might make Ezra proud, Vin forced his mind to put all the facts - all his facts - in order. "I left my room real early - before dawn. Just wanted to go out riding, be by myself a time."
"You're staying with a Chris Larabee?" King asked, reading something off one of his papers. Vin hesitated at first, but he'd twisted the truth more than once to save his skin.
"Chris was in the room next to me." he offered. "I didn't want t'wake him up."
"This was after you were told the McGintys had been taken into custody." The bored man intoned. Vin got the feeling that fella was here specific to trip him up.
"Don't recall bein' told nothing about McGintys." Vin purposely stole his hand up to his neck, drawing their attention to the angry rope burns still raw on his skin. "Just remember ridin'."
"Where were you headed?" King asked.
"Don't remember." That came out a little less sure. "Nowhere."
"Well, which is it?" Mr. Bored charged. Vin tried to keep his face unconcerned, but he knew a fleeting glare escaped him. "You seemed pretty sure of all of your facts when you gave your statement on the McGintys last year."
"And in the meantime I been shot, hung, near froze to death and had major surgery." Vin hoped he was accurately repeating what Chris had said to him yesterday when he refused that first bath.
"Gene -" though he was younger and wiry, King's voice held no small warning. "Let's just get Mr. Tanner's statement." When Mr. Bored offered no argument, he turned back to Vin. "Do you remember the attack?"
"Mostly..." Swallowing was doing something odd - felt like his throat was staying closed longer than it ought to. "He got me from behind - had his gun on me before I could move."
"You were still on horseback when this happened?"
"Yeah, I was lookin' at the snow. Seemed like it was stickin' funny to the trees."
"You were so busy looking at the pretty snow that you didn't hear somebody getting the drop on you?" Sarcasm dripped from every word Mr. Bored pronounced.
"Think - I think I fell asleep for a bit, in the saddle." Vin offered. He couldn't tell them he'd been shot already - this Vin wasn't shot when this all started. He tried swallowing again. His throat seemed to stick again, and when it stuck, Vin couldn't take a breath.
"How convenient."
Now Vin turned an undisguised glare on Bored. "Sure was convenient for him." If he could just get his throat to cooperate, he could breathe.
"Gene -" King warned again. "We need to get this done. If you're not going to help, you could go talk with ER personnel about forensic evidence." Gene rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Fine. Whatever." he huffed but didn't move. King turned back to Vin.
"All right Mr. Tanner -"
"Can't breathe." Vin managed to get past his rebelling throat. "Can't breathe." To his credit, Mr. Bored was out the door in a heartbeat, calling for a nurse. King dropped his paper and pencil and offered Vin a cup of water. But that would mean swallowing which meant his throat would stay closed more which meant he would be able to breathe less. His voice was hoarse and choked out. "Get Nathan. Please - get Chris."
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