Kiss of Death----9
Buck rode towards the Tate ranch and thought about the events of the day. He needed to speak with Angela's friend and find out exactly what Chris had told her. The drinks he'd had with Evan had done nothing to quell his worry and something told him Chris was in more trouble than he imagined. His thoughts quickly turned to Angela Tate and he felt a sudden chill at the thought of her.
He held tight to the reins as he shook off the chill and smiled as he thought of the morning spent in her arms. Their lovemaking had been a mixture of pleasure and pain that had left them both panting and breathless, but there had been something missing and he wasn't sure what it was. Suspicions were mounting and they were not easily squashed as he rode closer to his destination.
Frowning Buck pulled his horse to a stop just before topping the rise that would bring him in full view of the Tate ranch. Questions formed and he was hard pressed for any answers.
'You do love her don't you?' he silently asked and was again shocked when the answer came back too quickly. 'Used to anyway.'
"Damn!" he cursed and started the animal on a slow walk back to the ranch. The feelings he had for Angela Tate were not the ones he'd had when first hearing from her. The love they'd once shared was not the same depth it had once been and somehow he knew he would have to tell her it was over and that he wasn't ready for marriage yet. The trail quickly gave way to the entrance to the ranch and his attention was drawn to the figure standing on the porch.
Angela Tate was indeed a formidable woman and one that any man would be glad to marry, but Buck was beginning to understand that a marriage between them was not what he wanted after all. He knew bedding her was something he would have to live with, but he hadn't forced her into it, and they were both adults, yet he still felt a pang of guilt about how things were playing out. He sighed heavily as the woman smiled and walked out to meet him. The strain of her injury seemed to have dissipated, but the ugly bruise was still there.
"Buck, welcome home," Angela said as she drew up alongside the horse.
"Thanks, Angela," Wilmington said as he dismounted and turned the animal over to Manual.
"Is something wrong, Buck? Did you find out what happened to Chris?"
"Not really. I talked to Evan Rawlings and Joseph Clark."
"What did they say?" Tate asked as she wrapped her arm around his arm and walked slowly towards the house.
"Evan didn't know much, but Clark said Chris told his wife that he was going back to Four Corners."
"Well there you go," Angela said, laughing as they reached the door. "Chris always did like to do things on the spur of the moment."
"No, Angela, that's not Chris at all. He wouldn't just up and take off like that without making sure I knew what was happening. I sent a telegram to Four Corners and hopefully there'll be an answer by tomorrow."
"You're that worried about him?"
"Yeah, I am. He's a good friend, Angela, and he wouldn't run off like that."
"I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better, Buck."
"I know you do, Angela, and that's what makes this so hard." Wilmington turned her to face him and saw something flicker in her eyes that sent a chill down his spine.
"What so hard?"
"We need to talk, but I don't want to hurt you."
"Hurt me? Why would you hurt me?"
"I don't want to, Darlin', but I've been doing a lot of thinking today and I'm just not sure about getting married."
"But…you asked me and I said yes." The woman pouted as she tried to wrap her arms around him.
"I know I did, but I just can't see us marrying because of feelings we once had."
"Once had? Jesus, Buck, I have always loved you and always will! I know you feel the same way or you wouldn't have come all this way!"
"I thought I did love you, Angela, and I needed to see you to be sure! I know we have a lot of deep feelings, but is it love and is it enough to make a happy marriage? I need some time to think about it!"
"You bastard! How can you stand there after taking me to bed and fucking me and tell me you need time!"
"Angela…"
"Don't you Angela me! I'm good enough to be your fucking whore, but not good enough to take as your wife!"
Buck fought the urge to slap her as she continued her tirade and knew now that his feelings were not as deep as he first thought. "You're not a whore, Angela, and I'm sorry about all of this. I guess it's a good thing we're having this talk before we took our vows. I'll get my things and ride into town and leave for home tomorrow."
"No, God, please, Buck, you can't do this to me. I love you!"
"I'm sorry, I just wish we could have talked this through like adults. I hope you find what you really need, Angela, because I don't think I can be that person."
"No, Buck!" Tate cried as he pulled away from her and she sank to her knees as he walked into the house. Her anger mounted as hot bitter tears flowed from her eyes. Her chest heaved as she heard him speaking to Carmon and she knew her plans were falling apart and that it was time to play her trump card. Buck Wilmington would marry her tomorrow or he would never see Chris Larabee alive again. She stood and straightened her skirt and blouse before walking into the house and reaching for the bottle of brandy she kept at her desk. She poured a hefty amount into the glass and downed it as Wilmington returned from the kitchen. She stared at him, chest heaving and mouth set in a straight line.
"I'm sorry, Angela, I really am."
"No, you're not, Lover, but you will be if you walk out that fucking door!"
"What are you talking about?" Wilmington asked wary of the look of pure hatred in the woman's eyes.
"Just what I said, Buck. You walk out that door and it'll be the sorriest thing you ever did and I guarantee that he'll pay for it!"
"Who'll pay for what?" the rogue asked and somehow knew he didn't really want to hear the answer.
"Chris Larabee!" She didn't have time to continue as strong arms latched onto her shoulders and violently shook her.
"You bitch! Where is he?" His hands wrapped around her throat as anger and fear fought for supremacy.
"No!" Manual cried having heard the screaming and hurried to help his employer. He grabbed Wilmington's wrists and tried to pry them from the woman's neck as her eyes seemed to bulge. His own strength was nothing compared to the irate man who seemed set on killing Angela Tate. He reached for the half full bottle of brandy and brought it down on Buck Wilmington's head and watched as he dropped to the floor and lay still. He reached for the woman as she sagged and lifted her into his arms. Her breathing was harsh and he carried her towards her bedroom and called for Carmon as he placed her on the bed.
Angela was finally able to breath and reached to touch her throat as the dizziness left her fatigued and nauseous. Finally able to speak she looked at Manual and issued orders in a croaking rasp.
"Send someone for Rosemary Clark and have her come to me. Tell her it's important, Manual, and remember you owe me more than you can repay. If you do as I say it will wipe the slate clean and you and Carmon are free to leave and I'll add a bonus. Understood?"
"Si, I will take care of it, but what about Mr. Wilmington?"
"Bring him in here and I will take care of him until Rosemary gets here!" Tate ordered as she sat on the edge of the bed. She heard her employee dragging Wilmington into the bedroom and cursed the fates that allowed things to go so badly so fast.
"Where should I put him?"
"On the bed then get out of here and have Carmon bring me some hot water and bandages!"
"Yes, Miss Tate," the Mexican said as he helped her put the unconscious man on the bed before hurrying from the room.
"Oh, Buck, how could you do this to us?" She stated as she started removing his clothing. It took some doing, but she finally had his clothing off and quickly tore strips from the top sheet and tied his wrists and ankles to the bedposts. She knew she would not be able to keep him this way for long, but she would make sure she had a captive audience when she explained how things were going to play out. She thanked Carmon for bringing her the water and bandages and told her that she was not to be interrupted until Rosemary Clark arrived. Once the door closed, Angela removed her clothing and spooned up against the restrained man's side and placed her throbbing head on his arm and drifted towards sleep.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Vin Tanner reached for the beer and slugged it down before turning to face the trio standing at the bar. So far they'd been quiet and not bothering anyone, but that was changing quickly as they began harassing Inez Recillos. The woman could handle herself, but the three cattlemen were growing braver and lewder by the minute. He nodded as Ezra and JD entered the saloon and took up positions near the door as he walked towards the bar.
"Can I get another beer, Inez?"
"Si, Senor," the pretty woman said and reached for a clean glass.
"Hey, Mister, can't ya see the lady was busy serving real men? Go find yerself another whore!"
Vin's rage was evident as he struck out and sent the man flying into his two friends. The two men caught their friend and moved to take down the buckskin-clad man, but stopped when they heard two guns cocking behind them.
"I wouldn't if I were you!" Dunne said, smiling as fear replaced lust on the men's faces.
"We's jush havin' a liddle fun wish the whore," the same man slurred and found himself once more flying across the floor, landing on a table which quickly broke under his weight and he landed in a heap behind his friends.
"Ya best 'pologize to the lady or I'll show ya what it means ta be a…what's that word, Ezra?"
"What word, Mr. Tanner?"
"The one when a man ain't got nothin' between his legs."
"Ah, I believe you're looking for Castration as in Eunuch," Standish smiled as he saw real fear on the two men standing near the bar.
"Yep, knew ya wouldn't let me down! Now ya got one minute ta 'pologize to the lady or I put this ta work," Tanner warned and showed the three men the blade he had tucked into a sheath at his side.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, didn't mean to offend," one man said while the other mumbled his apology as he stared at the shining knife.
"Mister, as much as I'd like to see Vin's expertise with a hunting knife I'd rather not be the one having to explain the mess to Judge Travis," Dunne said, smiling as Vin slowly advanced on the third man.
"No! Please, I's just fooling with her. I'm sorry, Ma'am, I truly am. We'll leave if'n that's all right wit ya," the third man said as he looked at the woman behind the bar.
"That was pretty good, but there's somethin' yer forgettin'," Tanner warned.
"Wh…what?" the man stammered as the blade was placed at his groin.
"Ya owe the lady for those beers and fer breakin' the table!"
"But it was your fault I broke the ta…Okay, I get it. I'll pay for the damages…"
"And the beer!" Standish ordered.
"And the beer."
"Very good, you've just saved your self a night in our jail!" Dunne said as Jackson and Sanchez joined them.
"Looks like we missed the excitement, Nathan," the ex-preacher said as he watched two men haul a third to his feet.
"Sure looks that way. What happened?"
"Those three decided they're better off leaving the vicinity of our town. For their own health I might add," Standish explained as the three men emptied their pockets and placed the money on the counter.
"Trail hands," Jackson spat as the memory of his own brush with death at the hands of angry trial hands sent a shiver down his spine.
"It's all right, Brother, they're just leaving," Sanchez said and smiled as Jackson moved to the table at the back of the room as JD began picking up the pieces of the broken table. It didn't take long for the trio to ride out of town and life return to normal for the peacekeepers.
"Are you all right, Vin?" Jackson asked as he noticed the Texan favoring his right hand.
"Yeah, just split my knuckle on his teeth."
"Come over to the clinic later and I'll clean it for you," the healer said and knew the younger man would do as he asked. As often as they protested the need for his attention, the six peacekeepers respected his abilities and more often than not did as he asked them too.
"I will," Tanner said and turned to JD. "Amy word from Chris and Buck?"
"Nothing. I figured I'd send a message myself when Mrs. Potter opens up tomorrow."
"You worried, Vin?" Sanchez asked as Inez brought over five drinks and placed them on the table.
"Thank you for defending me, Senor," Recillos said before turning away and smiling at the slight blush she'd seen on the Texan's face.
"Chris said he'd wire us when they got ta Midfield. Figure we should've heard from 'em by now."
"Knowing Buck they probably went to see his friend…"
"Friend, Mr. Dunne, I would say it is more like paramour," Standish corrected.
"Whatever you say, but I'm betting he's already ensconced in her bed…"
"Jesus, Kid, stop emulatin' Ezra!" Tanner said, grinning at the look that washed over the conman's face as he used the new word he's read in one of Mary Travis' articles. He was quickly picking up new things and reading was something he enjoyed.
"I believe you are picking up some of my finer qualities, my friend…or should I say friends," he said as he looked from one man to the other.
"Better not let Chris hear you talking like Ezra. He might just decide to shoot the three of you," Sanchez explained as several towns' men entered the saloon. The Five men grew quiet as they watched the newcomers and readied themselves for another night as Four Corners' peacekeepers.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
"Open your eyes, Chris!"
Larabee did not want to, but the voice was annoying and he wanted to tell it to shut up before his head exploded. He shifted and felt something pressed against the wound in his leg and tried to come off the bed. His eyes shot open and he shot the woman a glaring stare as he struggled to breathe.
"Sonofabitch!" the blond groaned as the burning subsided.
"Sorry about that, but I tried to warn you. I need to clean this out and I'm sure you'd rather be awake during the operation."
"O…operation?" Larabee stammered and heard the fear in his own voice.
"Oh, not that kind of operation." Her smile didn't reach her eyes as she looked at her patient. "At least not yet, but I'm afraid I need to lance this one and the wound in your side in order to get rid of the infection. I'm afraid it's the only way to make sure you don't lose your leg. Now I do have some morphine here, but I'm sure you'd rather not take any drugs."
"D…don't do me any fucking f…favors!" Larabee spat and received a slap across the face that threatened fireworks once more.
"I warned you about that mouth and I promise you there won't be another. Vulgarity is not something I enjoy listening to and I assure you it would be in your best interest to speak in a civilized manner when I'm in the room. Do I make myself clear?"
Chris groaned as she pulled the bandage from his side and felt blood flow freely from the wound as she roughly pressed her fingers into the ravaged flesh. He twisted and tried to pull away, but was held completely immobile as she worked her fingers around the wound.
"Ethan, bring me some clean water and bandages…and my scalpel. I believe it's best to leave the wounds open and let the infection drain on its own so I need to cut the stitches out."
"God…stop!" The blond groaned as she pressed deeper and deeper into the wound.
"I'm doing my best to keep you alive, Chris. You do see that don't you?"
"Not f…from where I am," Larabee said as he watched her reach into the basin of water and remove a strip of cloth. He tensed as she placed it against his side and would've cried out if his teeth hadn't been so tightly clenched.
"Hand me the scalpel!"
"No!" Larabee spat, but knew it was no good as the knife cut through the stitches and sent a shockwave of pain through his body. He stretched out on the bed and tried anything to twist away from the shooting agony that seemed to invade every pore of his body until he lost sight of the pain in the murky black fog of unconsciousness. He didn't hear Turner's mocking laughter or feel Clark clean the wound and place fresh bandages over it and was oblivious to her touch as she repeated the process with his leg.
"Ethan, make sure you give him the laudanum and herbal teas because it'll help you control him."
"He ain't so much, Ma'am. I mean there's nothing he can do while he's trussed up like that!"
"Are you so sure of that, Ethan? Larabee is far from helpless even with those bullet wounds. No, keep him semi-dazed and we'll both be able to sleep easier. Remember what I said and I'll make sure there's a bonus for you when all is said and done."
"Anything you say," Turner said and smiled as he thought of the extra money and the women at the brothel who could and would do anything for money.
"He's getting a fever and it's going to be up to you to keep it in check. That means you keep wiping him down with cool water and make sure those wounds stay clean. I may not be able to get out here as often as I want too, so I'm trusting you to keep him eating and drinking."
"Ya know ya can trust me, Miss Rosemary. I'm beholding to ya for the jobs ya send my way."
"Good, I will try to come out tomorrow, but it depends on Joseph and Angela's plans. I believe she's going to marry Wilmington as soon as possible." She turned her gaze on Larabee as he mumbled something and she leaned closer to hear him.
"No…no, Buck. Don't marry…lying bitch! She's no good…no good…"
"Ethan, hand me my bag," Clark said as anger seared through her. She took a small vial and a metal syringe and metered out a dose of the narcotic. "Hold his arm while I find a vein!"
"What is that?" Turner asked as he gripped Larabee's arm and watched the veins become more prominent.
"N…no!" the blond winced as he felt something pressed into his arm. His eyes shot open, but refused to focus as he tried to see what was being done to his arm. It didn't take long for the drug to work and he smiled in spite of the fever as it dragged him towards the edge of an awaiting abyss. He laughed as the newest torment caused his body to tremble and knew hell had finally reached out and snatched him into a dark journey of which there seemed no escape.
"He'll probably sleep for hours now, but when he wakes up you know what to do."
"Yes, Ma'am, I sure do," Turner said, enjoying the pain he'd seen this woman inflict. It showed how strong she was and he prayed he never failed to do her bidding for he suspected she would dispatch him as easily as she had the others. He walked her to the door and watched as she mounted up and rode away, feeling sorry for her husband for he was under her spell and would do anything she asked of him. Turning back he walked into the shack and towered over the captive.
Larabee seemed to be dreaming and as his head moved from side to side he mumbled unintelligibly and tiny beads of sweat formed on his brow as his fever began to rise. He reached for the basin of soiled water and hurried to throw it out the window before getting fresh water and moving to the bed. Somehow it seemed silly to bathe the ravaged body, but he would do as ordered until such time that Chris Larabee was no longer needed.
"Jesus, Larabee, you're a fucking mess!" Turner laughed and ran the cloth across the lean chest as he tried to cool the captive down.
TBC