A/N: I know... I am terrible. It has been a little over six months since I updated. The good news is that Eldorado is finished. Yes, finished. I will be posting the last chapter sometime tomorrow. This is the second to the last chapter - obviously. Both are long so I wanted to give y'all time to read this one before posting the next. Many, many thanks to dreamsofhim and Cybrokat for their oustanding beta efforts! All mistakes are mine and mine alone - I am very stingy that way. Thank you all very much for reading!
I wake to the late morning sun casting its light across my pillow. It is an effort to leave the comforts of my bed, but boredom and hunger drag me from its warmth. Breakfast has long since passed; Annie is alone in the kitchen preparing lunch for the patients in the ward. Doc and David must be tending to them.
"Feeling better?" Annie asks.
"Yes, definitely," I reply, eyeing the food hungrily.
"Help yourself. There is more than enough for everyone."
"That's good," I say, helping myself to some bread and pea soup, leaving the ham instinctively. A cool glass of iced tea helps wash the meal down. I can't help thinking how lucky I am to be home, to have people who care for me. There's nothing like getting kidnapped and threatened with rape and death to make you appreciate the little things.
"This is very good, thank you, Annie."
She looks surprised and pleased. "You're welcome. Any plans for today?" Her tone is light, curious. I suspect she wants to know if I'm going to visit with Mr. Grissom. Now's as good a time as any to ask her about him.
"How long have you known?"
She is silent, focused on slicing the ham. I wait her out and finally she speaks.
"A few weeks after he arrived. He needed a place to keep Dante."
"Dante?"
"His horse."
Oh. I never did learn the beast's name. Fitting.
"He isn't stabled here now," I say, stating the obvious.
"Yes, well… it seemed best to remove him when you began living here."
I laugh. "Yeah, I guess it was."
This gets me thinking about why I supposedly came to Nelson in the first place. So much has changed since that day I woke in my bed with Doc and Dave hovering over me. Ghosts of pain meander through my head, reiterating the fact that there is still so much I don't remember. Still, I did solve the mystery of Mr. El Vaquero, didn't I?
I stand and take my dishes to the sink. "I know he didn't kill my brother, Annie."
"I told you that before," she says haughtily. "You should have listened!" She is smiling and I feel another surge of fondness for her. She is such the mother hen to me.
"You're right, I should have. I'm sorry. What should I do now?" I ask her, expressing the lingering sense of confusion I feel. "I'm not the person I was before. Should I still search for my brother's killer?" I can't help but think that is what Sara would have wanted me, us, to do.
Annie sighs heavily as she picks up the lunch tray. "Honey, sometimes it is best to let the past stay in the past. This was another something I told you before, but as always, you were too fool-headed and fired up to listen."
That's probably true. The Sara before me went out alone to the mines to search for El Vaquero and was attacked. I, quite like her it seems, went off on my own to the river despite warnings to the contrary, and was kidnapped. Logic would say that I should quit looking for trouble. And I know now that Sara's reason for coming here was wrong – El Vaquero is not her brother's killer. Shouldn't that satisfy the Sara before me, the one hiding in my psyche?
"I'm listening now, Annie," I say to her.
She nods a grim approval. "You'd better," she says as she heads toward the ward.
I study the scrapes on my wrists carefully. Yes, it is probably best if I settle myself down a bit. No more night rides alone with Pista, no more quests for killers or vigilantes. No more weird romances with men with split personalities, either. Mr. Grissom and his El Vaquero are best left on their own. No more adventures for me. I have a nice life here and people who care about me. What more could I possibly ask for?
oooooooooooo
I spend the next few days at home, splitting my time between resting and helping Doc and Annie with the ward. I clean Pista's stall and take her out twice a day for brief rides in the desert. I refuse to stray far from the barn, which aggravates Pista. She is a free spirit, like I vowed I would never be again. It is with mixed feelings that I comb her down and put her back in the corral with the other horses.
Greg comes to visit each afternoon; he is teaching me chess. I am sitting at the table in the front room when the bell over the door clangs, announcing his arrival.
"Good afternoon, Miss Sara," he says in a falsetto-y formal tone.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Sanders," I reply in kind. "Are you ready to get your ass whipped?"
His face is a mock scowl. "Sara! Chess is a gentleman's game. You sully it with your coarse words."
I laugh and throw a chess piece at him. "You sully it with your presence. Now sit down so we can play."
"Actually," he says in an odd tone, "I was thinking we might do something else."
"Oh?"
"I was thinking you might like to do a little … shopping." His eyes twinkle when he speaks the last word. Oh yeah, he's up to something.
"Shopping."
"Yes," he nods vigorously. "Shopping."
I run upstairs and inform David that Greg and I are going out around the town for the afternoon, and tell him to let Annie know I should be back in time for supper. I pause at my bedroom doorway and consider taking my gun, but decide against it. I notice my hat sitting on the dresser, and decide against that as well. I am neither a lady nor a tomboy and I'm quite fine with that.
Greg meets me at the door and offers his arm. I take it and we walk into the streets of Nelson. As we make our way past the saloon, I look through the window and catch Mr. Brown's eye. He waves with a smile and I wave in return. I realize I owe him an apology; I should have listened to his warnings as well.
We are meandering through the streets, crossing from one to the next, only stopping at a few window displays or to greet folks that Greg knows. Many ask how I'm feeling or wish me a good day. I reply that I'm quite fine, thank you and it is all very polite and somewhat surreal. After a while I realize we haven't gone into any of the shops we've passed.
"Are we looking for something in particular?" I ask him.
"Well, yes, yes we are."
"And that would be…?" We are now walking down a narrow alleyway between a boutique and the town library and my voice faintly echoes against the walls.
"We uh… need some apples."
"Apples?"
"Yes, apples."
I stop at the end of the alley, noticing that we have basically done a large loop and are now facing the general store. "Greg, what's going on?"
"We've been walking for a while now, don't you think? That really worked up my appetite. I'll bet it worked up yours too. Wouldn't you like a nice juicy apple right about now?" he asks innocently.
"Umm… no Greg."
"Are you sure you don't want an apple?" He turns his head and looks into the small window on the far left side of the store. It is Mr. Grissom's back office. I can see the shadow of a man walking past the window and my insides turn to pudding.
"Uh…"
He takes my arm in his and half drags me over to the store. "I really think you need an apple, Miss Sara. You look rather peaked to me. An apple would do you good."
My insides turn all fluttery when I see Mr. Grissom walking past the front doorway on his way to the store counter. A flare of anger appears as I wonder if I've been set up. Perhaps Mr. Grissom sent Greg on a mission to retrieve me. That in itself seems odd as I thought Greg was unaware of Mr. Grissom's extracurricular activities. Unless Mr. Grissom lied to me…
"Grissom!" Greg hollers as he walks through the door. "Miss Sara is here and is interested in purchasing some apples!" He turns and freezes when he sees Mr. Grissom is not quite three feet away from him.
"Oh. There you are," he says, his voice many decibels lower. "Well, Miss Sara needs some apples." He yanks me inside and I'm staring into those eyes again, noticing the confusion, the ire and most importantly, the flicker of delight in seeing me. The eyes leave mine and focus on Greg, while that lovely mouth turns down in a frown.
"Greg… what do you think you are doing?"
Oh. This is interesting. He wasn't involved in whatever Greg is up to. That still doesn't explain why Greg brought me here, though.
"Who? Me? Nothing." Greg's voice is the epitome of innocence. "I just was taking Sara for a walk around town and she indicated to me that she was hungry and would like an apple. Didn't you Sara?"
I stare at Greg in shock, incapable of speech. What does he think he's doing?
"Well," he says to Mr. Grissom, "she did and I think it would be best if I ran along and found her one." With that he promptly trots off to the storeroom and I can hear the faint sound of the rear door closing a few moments later.
Mr. Grissom and I watch the empty air where Greg once stood. He breaks the silence for us and I find myself swimming in rich depths of blue.
"Well, that's Greg for you. Good afternoon, Miss Sara. How are you feeling today?"
Light-headed, kind of woozy, lots of fluttering in the tummy, heart pounding in my chest, all perfectly normal swooning feelings I'm sure. "I feel fine, thank you. Uh… how are you?"
He smiles politely. "I'm doing well, thank you." The air grows thick and awkward as silent moments pass. Thoughts of his hands on my waist, his lips on my own… I'm drowning in memories of his touch and literally aching for more.
"It seems Mr. Sanders would like for you to visit with me today. However, that may not be your choice. So, would you?"
Huh? Did he just ask me something? "Would I what?"
"Would you like to visit with me today."
"Oh. Sure. I…" I have no idea what I'm saying. I clearly cannot have a normal conversation with this man. Jesus, what are we going to do? Raunchy thoughts enter into my mind. This is insane. I'm going to seriously pound the snot out of Greg when I see him again.
He places his hand on my shoulder. "Greg tells me that you've been practicing your chess moves." He leads me back into the smaller room, the office I saw the shadow in before. "Would you care to play a game or two with me?" He clears a small table and offers me a seat before retrieving a box from the bookshelf. I am totally guilty of watching his ass tighten as he reaches to the top shelf to get the particular box he is interested in.
He blows lightly on the top to clear the dust, creating a small cloud as he does so. He then opens the box and proceeds to set up various chess pieces on a very old and faded chessboard. I watch as a strong hand delicately sets a faded white pawn in the center of a dark square. Focus. I need to focus.
"You do play, don't you?" he says, noticing my intense gaze.
"Yes, I can play."
"Good," he replies, finishing the setup of the game. "Ladies first," he gestures as he sits across from me. There is something in his tone that fires a competitive streak within me. I look at him directly and the hint of that pompous attitude is there, rumbling in his words and hovering behind his gaze. He thinks he's going to win. He thinks I can't beat him.
"Certainly," I say. And with a very firm hand I move my third pawn two spaces forward. Let the games begin.
oooooooooooo
Two hours pass and we are in game number three. He won the first game. But I won the second. Greg did return after a while and he has been managing the store while we've been secluded in the office, playing our games as the world passes us by. Dusk is approaching and I realize with a start that Annie is expecting me for dinner.
"I need to go," I tell him quietly. "Annie will freak if I'm late for dinner."
He chuckles, the frames of his glasses jiggling on his nose when he does so. "Then we shall call this a draw and re-match at another time." He brought out the glasses at the beginning of the game; he fiddles with them when he is thinking. I was totally charmed by it when he did it earlier and I am charmed again as he does it now.
He finally removes them and looks at me intently. "I would like for us to continue our game sometime soon, Miss Sara."
I meet his gaze. "I would like that as well."
"Perhaps tomorrow afternoon?" he asks, a hint of insecurity dangling on his words.
"Tomorrow afternoon would be fine, as long as I'm not needed at the clinic or in the wards."
"Tomorrow afternoon then." We both rise and he escorts me out into the store, his hand resting lightly against the small of my back until we are within sight of Greg behind the counter.
"Thank you for a lovely game, Miss Sara."
"No, thank you, Mr. Grissom."
Greg is beaming and smirking and I can tell he thinks he is something special for playing Cupid or whatever he thinks he's doing. Why he did this or even knew about the… situation between me and Mr. Grissom is still a mystery and despite my vow to avoid adventure at all cost, learning Greg's reasons has become a high priority on my list.
It seems that it has become a priority for Mr. Grissom as well because I hear his harsh words as I leave the store. "Mr. Sanders, in my office. Immediately."
oooooooooooo
I return home for dinner. Annie and I clean up and settle in for the night. Sleep is long in coming though, my mind spinning through the events of the afternoon. I'm still focused on the chess game, planning what my next move might have been in order to beat Mr. Grissom.
I must have drifted off because I wake with a start into the inky darkness of the deep night. I look around my room, confused and disoriented. A loud rap on my window draws my attention. I get out of bed and peer outside.
Below is a shadow of a figure tossing another rock in my direction. I yelp and leap out of the way as it slams against the glass just inches from where I was.
"Oops! Sorry!" comes from below.
I return to the window and stare at the man below. "What are you doing here?" I whisper.
"What?"
"What are you doing here?" I repeat a little louder.
"I need to see you."
Damn, I need to see him too. Flirting, I say, "Well, here I am. You've seen me." I chuckle to myself. I am such a tease.
"Come down."
Oh boy. I know that tone. A little ripple of excitement flutters through me. I feel like a teenager again as I grab a robe and throw it over me. I take my time tip-toeing down the stairs and past the kitchen to the back door.
I open it slowly and take only one step outside before I'm engulfed in the heady scent of Mr. Grissom all decked out as El Vaquero. His tongue is against mine before I can even grab a breath.
"I had to see you," he murmurs against my throat, the cloth of his mask and the heat of his breath sending shivers down my spine. "Today, at the shop, it took everything I had to not kiss you. To not make you my own."
I say nothing as I bring his face to mine. We are lost in each other as we lean against the side of the house, desperate for the other's touch.
"Ride with me," he says. He whistles for Dante and lifts me up onto the stallion's back. Within seconds we are riding like the wind across the desert, my robe abandoned on the back steps.
So much for my boycott on adventure. We arrive where I'd dreamed we would, at his golden cavern in the rocky hillside. We enter through a different passage, one that leads us to the other side of the vast space, one that leads to a small cave where he has clearly stayed in the past. There is a feather-filled mattress kept off the floor by a wooden frame. Atop it rests a couple of lumpy pillows and a heavily patched quilt. All look clean and well cared for, albeit a bit old.
He pauses as he places his torch in the holder mounted into the cavern wall. The flames highlight the multicolored squares scattered across the bed. He removed his mask when we arrived and I can clearly see the lines of his face grimace in disgust.
"What is it?" I ask, thinking that he saw some mouse or other nasty creepy-crawly beneath the sheets.
"I… this… you deserve better," he sighs. "Than here, in some moldy cave." There is sorrow painted on his face.
My heart melts. Here we are running away for some illicit tryst in the darkest night and he thinks that I'm worried about an old comforter? Does he not know how amazingly erotic this all is? Does he not realize how badly I want him right now? My whole being is on fire because of him and he's worried about a blanket?
"It's perfect," I say. And it is. "Although it's a bit warm." With that I remove my shift, shrugging it off my shoulders lightly and stepping out of it as I walk towards the bed. I turn only my head and my eyes catch the hunger in his and echo it as I say, "Don't you think so?"
It does not take long for him to join me. Flesh finally meets aching flesh as we collapse into one another, the torch providing a soft glow against our bodies as we crash into ecstasy.
oooooooooooo
It is early in the morning when I finally tear myself away from the warm tangle of sheets and Mr. Grissom. The torch burnt out a long time ago but I can quite confidently say I was too distracted to notice. I do know it is morning because the glow from the cavern has intensified. Mr. Grissom explained to me that the sun comes in through various cracks in the rock's surface and illuminates the metal within the stone. A geological anomaly, he called it.
I can see the small hot spring where I bathed before; I can't remember how many days ago that was. I find my way to the alcove where the towels and soap are, and proceed to delight in yet another warm and soapy bath. I am almost finished when he joins me, and we spend a bit more time in the heated pool, experimenting with the wonders of human flesh combined with slippery soap.
It is much later in the morning when we finally are prepared to leave. I am concerned about Annie and tell him so. I really do not want her to worry yet again; I'm afraid all my drama will give the poor woman heart palpitations.
"Don't be concerned, Sara."
"But, the robe. I left it on the stairs."
"She'll bring it inside when she sees it. She isn't as naïve as you think she is. She's aware of my intentions and your feelings for me."
"Excuse me? Your intentions? My feelings for you? Did this not all just happen within the past twelve hours? How in the world could she have been 'aware' when she was fast asleep when I left last night?"
"Because… she wasn't asleep. She saw us and she saw us leave."
Embarrassment flames my cheeks. "Omigod, she did? She saw us?"
He laughs. "Don't be so ashamed! Love makes people do crazy things."
I blink. Love? Did he say love? Does he think I'm in love with him? Am I in love with him? I realize in an instant that after last night, I most certainly am. But I'll be damned if I let him know that.
"Well," I say in a clipped tone, "I wouldn't know about that."
His eyes flicker with amusement. "Is that so?"
"Yes," I say firmly. "It is quite so."
"I see. Well, I know a great deal about that."
"You do?"
"Yes, I do." He is silent after that, packing up our used towels into a dark canvas bag.
"Care to elaborate?" I ask him hesitantly.
"Nope, not right now."
I shake my head. "You are definitely a pompous ass. I knew it from the first time I saw you."
"And you," he says, sweeping me up in his embrace, "are a feisty and incredibly stubborn lady and I love you for it." He crushes his lips against mine and quickly withdraws, laughing loudly.
I must look dumbfounded because that is exactly how I feel. He smiles as he brushes his thumb against my cheek. "Don't fret too much, Miss Sara. Everything will work itself out. You'll see."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Vaquero. Or, it seems, Gil Grissom."
The cold voice shocks us both and we turn towards the source. Conrad Ecklie is at the top of the entrance to the cavern, beside him stands the Vartann character and two other unfriendly men. Their pistols shine darkly in the cavern's golden light.
I look to Grissom and for the first time, the confident and powerful visage of El Vaquero is cracked. He has drawn his gun in defense but we both know we're outnumbered. From out of the shadows behind us, Hank Pettigrew appears, his own pistol pointed straight at my chest.
"Move along," he growls, jerking his head towards the path up to Ecklie. "Let's go."
Grissom and I obey and find ourselves all too soon in front of Ecklie and his goons. The former is cackling evilly. "I am so very delighted to have finally found your little hideout, Mr. Vaquero. You really should not have made it quite so simple to follow your trail. Clearly the man behind the mask is much less of a threat than I anticipated. Going to whip up a potion to save yourself, Gil? Maybe toss some dried flowers and grasses at us?" The goons laugh and Grissom glares at them with a growl.
Conrad pokes his gun's barrel against Grissom's face and Grissom jerks back with a sneer. Ecklie yanks Grissom's gun from his hands and tosses it to Hank. "Eh eh, Mr. Grissom. Be nice to my men here. You wouldn't want them to get angry now, would you?"
At that instant one of the goons steps forward and yanks me to him. I feel the cold steel bite into my temple and my temper flares. Haven't I been here before? Didn't I just go through this with some other goons again hired by Ecklie?
"Now we move," Ecklie says, gesturing towards the entrance.
We walk through the passageway, our way lit by the torches of Vartann and the other goon. Hank has his gun buried in Grissom's back and my goon seems to delight in poking my shoulder with his gun. The roar of the underground river gradually gets louder as we approach. It seems almost deafening when we are finally standing near the edge.
Grissom speaks to Ecklie when we are all in the clearing. "You have me," he states. "That's what you really want. Let her go."
"No…" I moan as the two goons grab him, pinning his arms behind his back while slamming him against the cave wall. Ecklie and his cohorts are all laughing and my blood begins to burn.
"I think it's time we ended this charade," he says, pointing the pistol's barrel at Grissom's forehead. "Say good-bye to your hero, Miss Sidle." He pulls back the trigger and I realize it's now or never. I rush forward and tackle Hank, grabbing Grissom's pistol from Hank's hands and pushing him into the river in the process. Hank screams loudly until the current pulls him under the water, out of sight and no longer a threat. Ecklie's head turns towards the sound as I take aim and fire. He blinks exactly four times and then stares at the spreading red patch blossoming across his chest. Three seconds pass where not a person moves. Then there is chaos.
Ecklie charges towards me, his hands wrapping around my throat before I even see him coming. I drop the gun and find myself in an intense struggle to tear away his clawed fingers from my neck. He is bleeding all over me, shouting, "I'll kill you bitch. I'll kill you!"
I hear the sounds of struggle behind me so I assume Grissom is fighting off the goons. Ecklie's strength is slowly fading and finally I am able to kick him away from me. He slumps to the ground and lays still. Grissom has incapacitated one goon; he lies on the floor with a red stain growing around his head. He has also acquired a gun, which he is now pointing at Vartaan and the other goon.
I reach for the gun I dropped when Ecklie reaches out and grabs my ankle, twisting it painfully. "I'll take you down with me, you rotten little whore," he growls as he yanks me off my feet. I kick and fight against him, we are tumbling in a full on wrestling match when I hear Grissom yell, "Sara!" right before a shock of frigid water hits my body. Ecklie is still clinging to me and we're both caught up in the violent current of the river. By pure chance, the current turns us and Ecklie's body impacts a large rock first, jarring me free and sending him into the icy depths. I fight to keep my head above the water and grab onto any rock I can, but it is no use, the rocks are worn smooth by years of cascading water.
"Grissom!" I cry. "Help!"
"SARA!" Grissom yells as he runs along the cavern wall.
"HELP!" Oh, please help me, Grissom. I don't want to die!
I slam into what must be another rock and pain explodes in my shoulder. I grab a hold of the rock with my other arm as my body slides around and yes, finally, my fingers grip onto an indent in the surface and I can hold on!
"I'm coming Sara!" Grissom cries. "Hang on!"
"GRISSOM!" I shout. The water is pounding against me and my fingers are beyond numb with the chill. I know I cannot hold on much longer.
"Hang on!" he cries, his eyes filled with panic as he looks for a way to cross the river to get to me. He hops from one rock to the next, he is standing only two rocks away when a large wave of water rips me from my rock, from my life with Grissom, from Annie, Doc Robbins and David, from Greg and Brass and Nick and Warrick and Catherine and everything that was so very wonderful about the town of Nelson, Nevada.
"SARA!" The last thing I see is his face contorted in horror, his hand outstretched as I am pulled away by the current. "SARA!" My body crashes into yet another rock, exploding familiar pain across my brain. The water overtakes me, I cannot see, I try to scream but my lungs are unable to fill with air. I'm choking, I cannot breathe. Oh God, please… please… please let it end soon…
There is a white-hot flash exploding from within my body and then… there are the deep black depths of nothing.