A Little Hope (and a lot of trouble): Chapter Four
by Ami-chan
Chris was downing a whisky as they entered the saloon, but his eyes immediately turned toward the batwing doors, watching them with a certain desperate intensity as they approached as if weighing their every movement, every thought. "Thought we'd head out."
Of course. Get him away from the town onto whatever land it was that he had, show him the horses, win him over. That was typical, right? "All right."
"Boy's got hisself a pretty little filly," Buck offered, just to break the heavy stare passing between father and son. As expected, Chris's gaze focused onto him, but only briefly before returning to Adam.
"The bay?"
Adam nodded.
"Nice horse."
Adam nodded again.
Without another word Chris stood and started toward the batwing doors, Adam stepping back enough to allow him past. Buck only just managed to catch Chris's arm before he left. "Want me to go with ya?" Chris gave him a look that clearly said no and continued on. Adam cast Buck the briefest of looks before he followed clearly not happy but having no other direction to take.
"Oh, god, they're gonna kill each other."
"That's a cheerful pronouncement, Mr. Wilmington. Why do you say that?" Ezra ignored the fact that Buck jumped about a foot in the air, having not heard Ezra's approach.
"You kiddin' me? Ain't neither of them can talk to the other, both as hard-headed as mules, and Chris is sure as hell expectin' Adam to be that little boy he remembers and ain't no way in hell Adam's that boy anymore!"
Ezra nodded sagely. "They both are rather monosyllabic, aren't they? Chris generally and Adam when he's speaking to Chris. Yes, I can see where that would be a problem, but surely it wouldn't result in violence?"
"You know Chris's tolerance level."
Ezra grinned dryly. "Or lack thereof, yes. Well, if all else fails you could always make some excuse to check on them later."
"Could at that." Not that Buck had really needed Ezra's encouragement, but it certainly helped that someone else could see things his way.
#t#
Pony sniffed at the bright little mare; in response June turned sharply, shoving the larger gelding who snorted and backed off. The faintest smirk crossed Adam's face as he caught her and stopped any other antics she might wish to engage in. "She do that often?"
"No," he responded, knowing his father meant to ask if June was generally temperamental. "She's just letting him know his place."
Chris muttered a general agreement and seemed about to ask another question but stopped. Seeing his frown Adam guessed at the cause. He'd been about to ask if she were gun-shy, perhaps out of habit, and realized he didn't want to ask that, as if it were taboo. "She doesn't spook easily," Adam offered almost casually as he mounted up. He ignored the look his father gave him – surprise mingled with curiosity – and waited while Chris climbed into Pony's saddle.
If he didn't pay much attention Adam could forget where he was and who he was with, but more importantly he could forget where they were going. It wasn't that hard to do because June, in her typical fashion, was calmly waiting for him to let his guard down so that she could nose ahead of Pony. June detested following anyone and she was letting Pony know who was really in charge, while the mild gelding wasdoing his best to steer clear of her. About the third time she tried to sneak ahead Chris asked, "Is she always this lively?"
"Only when there's someone in front of her." Adam patted June's neck fondly as the mare settled back down, still eyeing Pony. It didn't take all that long to reach the up and coming ranch. Though determined not to be impressed – and for the most part he had nothing to worry about – the horses did draw him in. Then again, Adam had always liked horses, horses who knew when you were sad or upset, who would always listen and never judge.
The stud was an exceptional creature, but it was his color, a dark brown that looked black in places, depending on where the light hit him, with a black mane and tail that Adam liked best. Adam still only gave the stallion a cursory glance at first, in favor of seeing to June and stabling her rather than turning her out with the other horses. When he was done with that he returned to the corral to watch the stallion. "You came up earlier. To see to the horses." Though all of Adam's attention appeared to be on the horse he hadn't missed Chris up beside him and leaning on the fence.
"Yeah." Their nearly companionable silence last for some time before Chris said, almost as an offering, "He doesn't have a name yet."
Startled out of his own thoughts Adam glanced at him sharply before turning his eyes back to the stallion that was prancing under their scrutiny. "How about Horatio?"
Chris's eyebrows rose. "Horatio?"
"Or Laertes."
"Horatio it is."
Adam smirked, nodding in agreement. He'd always liked Horatio best. (1)
They spent the rest of the day with little conversation, tending the horses, fixing food, and other various chores. Chris seemed to mind the silence more than Adam did and several times made attempts to converse, but that never lasted long.
At dinner Chris finally found a topic that they were both interested in, or at least one that Adam would willingly talk about – Adam's horse, June. For a moment it was like Adam was the way Chris remembered him, animated, talkative, happy. Then the words and gestures stopped again and Adam fell silent, but that one spark was enough to make Chris all the more determined to draw his son out again. His spirited Adam was in this older, quieter, hardened boy somewhere.
Chris was almost disappointed in the fact that he had bothered to get a spare bed when night fell as he still wasn't ready to let Adam out of his sight for long periods of time. It was difficult not to run and check on Adam every few minutes and eventually he forced himself to settle down to get some semblance of sleep. It didn't last long, or it didn't seem as if it lasted long for the sound of footsteps, heavy, fast, with a note of urgency, almost desperation to them echoed through the cabin. Chris was moving before his brain had caught up with him, hurrying after the sound and the figure that was hampered only momentarily by the door but enough so that Chris was able to catch him about the waist.
"Hey, hey Adam, what's the matter?" The boy had gone limp the instant Chris had grabbed him, as if he knew it was useless to attempt any resistance at all. His eyes were vacant and staring and it took Chris a moment to realize that his son was not really awake. He continued to hold Adam until he began to stir, his eyes focusing though he made no real effort to try to get away from Chris. (2) "Have a dream?" Or, a nightmare.
There was a soft murmur of agreement and Adam actually leaned back against him and it was then that Chris noticed his son was trembling. "Adam?"
Bright blue eyes peered back at him in the dim moonlight. "I was burning alive." He said it simply, stating a fact, almost resigned to whatever it was that had plagued his mind and Chris couldn't help but wonder how many times Adam had had the same dream.
"It wasn't real."
"No," Adam agreed. "But it almost was." There was no arguing with that.
He stood there with Adam until the night's chill became too much and then he finally suggested that they go back inside. Adam balked at the suggestion, his eyes darting toward the front door uncertainly and said that he wanted to stay outside. It might have been funny and Chris had to admit that he'd teased Vin about not liking to be "boxed in", but now it made him wonder if Vin had a legitimate reason for disliking being enclosed as Adam so obviously did.
"You stay right here." Without Chris's arms holding him up, Adam sank down to the porch and sat there, hands planted in front of him and his eyes focused on the night sky. When Chris returned he was armed with blankets that he arranged on the porch before guiding Adam over. The dream must have affected the boy more than he let on because he willingly curled against Chris as if seeking wordless physical comfort and protection. This time Chris had no problems falling asleep.
#t#
It was extremely early, Buck knew that, but he hadn't been able to stop himself from heading out anyway, visions of disasters storming through his head. What he found was far from any disaster he'd ever seen, though. What he found was Chris sprawled across the porch with Adam snuggled up against him like a little puppy and a blanket thrown over both of them. Chris stirred at the first found of Beau's hooves as they neared, but upon seeing them he immediately relaxed, not wanting to wake Adam.
He tied up Beau and wandered over to the porch, peering down at his best friend and son. "You checking on me?"
Buck grinned at him. "Yup. What'cha doin' out here?"
Chris's eyes closed momentarily. "Had a bad dream, didn't want to be inside."
It wasn't hard to imagine what that "bad dream" might have been about so Buck didn't ask. Not that Chris would have responded because Adam began to twitch even though they had tried to speak quietly. If Chris was a light sleeper Adam most certainly was not, but eventually, with enough of a disturbance, Adam would wake up. Like right now.
"Papa?" If Buck's heart broke at the soft utterance he could only imagine it was that much more heart rending for Chris. He watched as Chris's eyes went wide with surprise and not a little happiness, leading Buck to believe it was the first time Adam had called Chris that since he had arrived. Adam's eyes were soft and sleepy as they blinked open, attempting to focus and Buck wondered if his own expression had gone as gentle and glowing as Chris's had. A single word and the years just seemed to melt away from Chris's face and he was the man Buck remembered him being, a little restless, carefree, happy.
"Yeah, I'm right here." Chris's voice had suddenly gone rough when it hadn't been before, but Buck chose not to notice and Adam was still lost in a partial fog of sleep to pay any attention to what that might mean. Then he was twisting away from Chris and sitting up, his eyes inevitably drawn toward Buck.
"Buck?" Yeah, Buck remembered very clearly that Adam had been very monosyllabic in the mornings when he was younger and apparently it still held today. The boy wouldn't be truly awake for another hour or so and until then they couldn't hope for a decent conversation out of him.
"Why don't you go get dressed? I'm sure you don't want to miss any of Josiah's preachin'." Adam made a sound that might have been agreement and started toward the door. "You might want to do the same thing," he added, glancing down at Chris, still grinning widely.
Chris dragged himself carefullyto his feet and Buck only managed to refrain from making a comment about how old he was getting. "You were checking up on me." It was a statement now and a question at the same time; he wanted to know why.
Unable to decide what response Chris wanted, Buck shrugged. "Checking up on both of you. Go on, now. I'll make breakfast." Chris leveled him with a look that was half annoyed, half grateful as only Chris could do. After breakfast Pony and June were saddled and the three of them headed back to town together, Buck providing most of the conversation. It made him wonder if Adam and Chris were even capable of holding a conversation with each other – certainly he had difficulty talking to them and Buck rarely had trouble talking to anyone.
The church was slowly filling up when they arrived, the nearby settlers pulling in with teams of horses or oxen while others were on horseback. Most of the townsfolk were already at the church and Vin, disliking the crowd, would be at the jail Nathan, JD, or Ezra. After a quick glance around Buck spotted Nathan and Ezra and figured, by default, that JD was on duty with Vin.
"Ezra?" Chris asked, sounding surprised.
The gambler stopped and calmly eyed their leader. "Why, Mr. Larabee, to what do we owe this occasion? I, on the other hand, am almost always here on Sunday but I do not believe I've ever seen you here." If anything, Chris's surprise increased. He was saved an explanation when Josiah chose that moment to appear.
"I do believe Chris has witnessed a miracle and that will bring any man to religion." Josiah didn't add "again" because he'd never suspected that Chris was particularly religious in the first place. He would have been right. It was only chance and Buck's suggestion that he was there at all.
Adam didn't seem at all interested in their small talk and his eyes were wandering around at all the people swarming around the church, mostly because it was the only one for miles around. If they wanted to go to church their options were very limited. Then, out of no where a young girl appeared, imposing herself directly in Adam's sight. "You must be Adam." She stuck her hand out without a hint of shyness or modesty, not that Adam noticed; the women in his life had been neither. "I'm Stacia Potter and that's my sister, Ann," she gestured vaguely behind her where a presumably younger – smaller, at least – sister was standing in her shadow. "You can sit with us."
Before he had a chance to open his mouth Stacia was tugging at his arm and he was forced to follow or fall flat on his face – Adam chose to follow. Stacia was a few years older than he was and quite a bit taller, which made it all the easier for her to manhandle him. He was aware of Buck's low chuckling, but he managed to ignore it in favor of listening to the animated girl's voice and gestures. In a few minutes he figured he'd learned her life history and most of the details of the town and its occupants. Only when the service had started, his father slipping into the pew beside him just before, did Stacia fall silent.
It occurred to Adam that no one was really listening to Josiah except for a few of the older women and men that were hanging on his every word. Most of the occupants of the church were staring off into space probably thinking about the crops or cattle or horses or whatever it was they did during the rest of the week. But it was peaceful and maybe they were here just to relax, to give their minds a bit of ease that they might not otherwise get. For his part, Adam thought of words and numbers and impossible events all of which flowed through his mind like pages in a book and he wondered, with endless optimism what more he could find out in school.
When church had ended Adam was corralled by a group of curious girls and questioned endlessly until his father called him back. He was immensely glad to be able to slip away from under so many scrutinizing eyes, though since they were heading to the store, which was open now church had ended, Stacia and Ann were inevitably close. That didn't bother Adam, though. They were getting supplies for school, after all.
-to be continued-
(1) Horatio and Laertes are from "Hamlet"; Horatio is Hamlet's bff and Laertes is Ophelia's brother.
(2) Contrary to popular belief it is not a bad thing to wake a sleepwalker. In fact, it's probably a good thing. Especially if there are knives or stairs or walls or breakable items around. Sleepwalking is common in children, but usually stops around the age of thirteen (if it stops at all).