Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and characters are the property of MGM Television, The Mirsch Corporation, Trilogy Entertainment Group and CBS. No profit has been made off of this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 11

As Chris made the climb up through the cobwebs of unconsciousness he became aware of a sharp pain radiating from his shoulder to end below his left collarbone. Frowning, he tried to remember what had happened since he'd been in the barn with Buck, Ezra, Vin, and the Peters brothers. Cursing softly, Chris took a short, shuddering breath he forced heavy-lidded eyes to open on a dimly lit room. When he managed to focus his eyes he saw two empty bedrolls laid out on the floor near the hearth. Where were the boys and how had he gotten back into the house?

Indistinguishable voices broke through his muddled thoughts and he realized they were somewhere nearby arguing. Trying to make out what was being discussed he levered himself up onto his right elbow, hoping to locate his friends. "Son of a -!" Chris cried out as the pain flared to new life and brought tears to his eyes. Dropping back onto the cot his breath came in hitching gasps as he grasped ineffectually at the blankets on the cot with his right hand.

"Hurt's don't it?" Frank called from where he was slumped in the corner unable to get up and move around. "Dick got ya good. I saw the hole in your shoulder and you were bleedin' like a stuck pig."

Chris cracked an eye open and tried to take deep breaths. The ringing in his ears had not completely drowned out the voice in the corner of the room and he tensed in apprehension. The voice had sounded suspiciously like Frank Peters and if he was in the house where was his brother? What had happened to the boys?

Vin strode back into the parlor when he heard Frank calling out and hoped that maybe Chris had awoken. "Keep quiet, Peters, or I'll tie you up under the porch like a mangy mutt." Not sparing the irritating man a second glance he moved to the cot. He knew sleep was the best thing for his friend, but he really wanted to get some nourishment into him.

Kneeling down next to Chris, he smiled when he noticed the dull green gaze tracking the room, "Hey, Cowboy, welcome back. How ya feelin'?"

Chris pulled a face and replied shortly, "Like I've been shot, how else should I be feeling?"

"Good to know you have lost that lovable sense of humor. Here drink some of this." Sliding his arm under the blond's shoulders he lifted him just enough to drink without choking. Chris tried to push the mug away when after the first swallow. "Come on, Chris, you're supposed to finish this. It should make you feel better."

Sticking his tongue out as he shivered, "Blech. What is that? You steep your dirty socks?" He kept pushing the mug away as Vin tried to coax him to drink.

"No, we used Buck's union suit." Vin grinned down at his friend who was glaring up at him with one eye. "Actually, it's ginger and lemon tea with a touch of honey. Buck found some down in the root cellar. Sorry, we were all out of Willow bark. I know how much you love that stuff."

"Can I have some water instead? That's all I want, plain water." Chris whispered as he closed his eyes and shivered again. "Not feeling too good right now."

Vin put the mug to Chris's lips again. "Drink the tea and I'll get you all the water you could want. It'll help with the fever." He waited and then waited some more, until finally the gunslinger acquiesced and drank down the tea. "See, now that wasn't too bad. We'll have you up and about in no time at all."

Chris just sighed and drifted back to sleep. Straightening the blankets over his friend, Vin stayed by his side a little while longer before throwing a few more logs onto the fire. Once he was satisfied with the fire he sat down on his bedroll and pulled off his boots and crawled under the blankets.

Buck drifted into the parlor a few minutes later with a blanket. Stopping in front of Frank Peters he dropped it into the man's lap. "Here, found you another blanket. You keep quiet for the remainder of the night and I may see fit to let you sit at the table for breakfast."

"You have no call to treat me like some animal. Just move yourself off and leave me to my misery," Frank snapped as he draped the blanket over himself and burrowed down to sleep.

Buck wanted to comment so badly, but didn't feel up to a verbal sparing match with this man. Right now he just wanted to get some shut eye before his turn at watch came up. If he was lucky he'd get a good three hours in.

~o~

Propping the kitchen door open so he had an unobstructed view of Peters, Ezra sat down at the table and dealt himself a game of Solitaire. Listening intently he could hear Buck's heavy snores and Frank's snuffles. Thankfully, Vin and Chris were quiet sleepers so he only had the two disturbing his peace and quiet.

The first hour of his watch in solitude seemed to drag on forever as he listened to the wind rattle the windows and the house creak in protest. Sitting at the table sipping at a cup of tea another sound encroached disturbing him. It sounded as if Vin were speaking, though he wasn't sure over Buck's snores. Moving to the doorway he looked toward the bed rolls, noticing that Vin was bent over the cot. Frowning in confusion Ezra slipped into the room.

"Is there something amiss, Mr. Tanner?" Ezra asked as he moved closer.

Looking up quickly Vin met his eyes. "Bring me a basin of water, Ezra, and brew some more of that tea."

Ezra gazed down at Chris and watched as Vin felt his forehead and neck. "The fever's back up?"

Vin shook his head. "No. It never went down. Now he's burnin' up." Vin grabbed Chris hands as the blond tried to push him away. "Relax, Cowboy. We'll make you feel better soon."

"I'll be right back. Keep him calm Mr. Tanner." Ezra hurried to the kitchen to grab a clean basin of water and some rags. Giving them to Vin, he went about brewing some more tea.

Looking out the kitchen window Ezra watched as the window blew drifts of snow up against the outbuildings. He hoped luck was with them because good help was several days away.

"How's that tea coming?" Vin called from his wounded friend's side. Chris had gotten so hot that the cool water had ceased to bring him any relief. They needed to bring the fever down before Chris was too exhausted to fight anymore.

"I have it here." Ezra blurted out as he brought a tray with a mug, teapot and honey. Setting it down on a nearby table he poured a cup, blowing on it as he drew near. "It's a might warm. Be careful."

Vin propped Chris up and took the mug from Ezra's outstretched hand. "Thanks. He's cookin' from the inside out. After we get this in him we'll check the wound again." Holding the mug of tea to Chris's lips he watched as the liquid slowly entered. "He's not swallowing." He groaned in frustration.

Ezra chuckled, "Have you ever known Mr. Larabee to do anything the easy way? We'll work together. You dribble and I'll rub his neck, maybe we'll get at least one mug into him before morning."

"What's going on Ezra?" Buck asked from his bedroll as he pushed the blankets down.

Ezra spared him a glance and went back to rubbing Chris's neck as Vin slowly poured the tea into his mouth. "Mr. Larabee's fever has continued to climb and we are trying to get some tea into him in order to lower the fever.

Pulling his boots on and his coat, he strode up to the cot. "Shift over, Ez, let's put him out in the snow and see if we can break the fever that way. Wiping him down is doing nothing but making him wet."

"I was holding off on that, but I think you're right. Let's do it. I'll grab a linen sheet to wrap him up in, 'cause I don't want to freeze his skin." Vin ran to a back room to grab some linen while Buck stripped Chris of his clothing.

"Mr. Wilmington isn't this a tad drastic? It's freezing out there, he could catch his death." Ezra gathered up Chris's clothes as they hit the floor and moved them to a nearby chair.

Scooping Chris's hot body up in his arms Buck followed Vin who'd returned with the linen to the front door. "If we don't do this, Ezra, he's gonna be even weaker. We have to give it a try."

Ezra followed Buck and Vin outside with a lantern to light their way.

"This looks good," Vin remarked as he spread the linen out on the snow. "Just place him on the sheet and we'll wrap him up. Then we can pack the snow around so it'll work quicker."

Buck gently lowered Chris onto the sheet and straightened his body out. He, Vin, and Ezra then flipped the linen over him and piled the snow up close.

Briskly rubbing his frozen, wet hands together before shoving them under his arms Ezra asked, "How long do you think he needs to stay out here?"

Buck squatted down next to Chris and looked him over critically. "He's still flushed, but I don't want to leave him out here too long."

"Let's try five minutes for now and if we need to leave him longer we will." Vin felt the gunslinger's forehead and sat back on his heels to wait. Noticing Ezra shivering next to them he asked, "If we're all out here who's with Peters?"

Buck and Ezra just stared at one another for a moment before Buck cursed and ran back toward the house. Taking the steps two at a time as he pulled his gun free of the holster, he threw the door open onto an empty parlor.

Peters had used the window for his escape and now Buck stood in the center of the room watching helplessly as the curtains fluttered in the breeze and snow drifted down onto the empty bedroll. "Son of a bitch!" Buck hissed in frustration.