ON YOUR HORSES, BOYS

Part 12

"Chris, let us give you something for the pain. You ain't helpin' Ezra by sufferin'." Buck captured his friend's hand as it grabbed for something to hold on to.

"No," Chris grunted, squeezing the fingers he found. "They're still three of them on the loose. They'll be comin' back… If they find him, t-they'll kill him."

"I got news for ya, pard, you're no safer than Ezra if those boys decide to show up."

"I'm conscious… he's not. I'm stayin' that way 'til…"

"'Til when? You're hurt bad and you need to let Nathan take care of you. I don't think he fancies cuttin' into your belly while you're still able to pitch yourself off the table."

"C-can't let 'em get to Ezra… he's paid too high a price… already."

"And you can protect him how?" Buck asked. "Look at you; you can't even protect yourself right now."

"Damn it, Buck… just keep me awake and hand me my gun." Chris' breathing was becoming more and more labored but he wouldn't stop glaring until his weapon lay next to him on the table.

Nathan raised the clean cloth pressed over the gunfighter's wound and saw fresh blood soak it through. "We have to get this bullet out now," he warned.

"Do it," Chris ground out between clenched teeth.

Buck looked at the healer helplessly and nodded in defeat as Nathan spread surgical tools on a clean towel near his friend's head.

Larabee laid back and listened to the rattle of metal instruments as he tried to wipe the sweat from his eyes. Buck saw the pitiful attempt and reached for a damp cloth to gently wash away the moisture that had gathered around his eyes, cheeks and upper lip. He leaned close and asked softly, "You really wanna do this?"

Chris' eyes burned with determination as he jerked his chin downward to signal he was ready. In truth, he wasn't sure at all, especially when he felt Nathan's cool hands push against his skin in an effort to judge the width of the wound. The sheer anticipation of what was about to happen nearly did him in. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the hand he held, when the healer inserted a slender metal probe into the hole in his abdomen he couldn't ignore it. The instrument sank deeper and deeper until it finally reached the bullet, and when metal touched metal the sensation sent convulsive pain past his brain and into every muscle of his body.

Buck bent down, dried his face again and deliberately blocked his view of what Nathan was doing. It was bad enough he was going to feel the surgery; he sure as hell didn't need to see it. He peeked over his shoulder as Jackson picked up a scalpel and held it just above the open wound. The dark man mouthed the words "hold him" and prepared to make the incision he needed to allow better access to the bullet. Buck turned his attention to Chris and discreetly held him down under the guise of wiping his face and neck.

Chris didn't really notice the weight on top of him until Nathan pressed the surgical knife into his flesh and cut across the bullet hole. He growled and tried to rise. Buck shifted, let go of his hand and laid a forearm across his chest.

Nathan felt the muscles beneath his fingers twitch and tighten as Chris instinctively drew his knees up. This was ridiculous, how the devil did he think he could do this with his patient wound so tight he was about to snap. "Vin," he called without turning, "how's Ezra doin'?"

The tracker reached under the blanket covering the gambler's body and put a hand to his chest before he leaned down to listen to his breathing. The heartbeat beneath his palm felt sluggish and the warm respirations against his cheek were uneven. "'Bout the same, I think. Still shiverin' like he's cold."

"Damn, I need you over here so you can hold onto Chris."

Larabee heard the request. "N-no."

Jackson decided to play the guilt card. "I don't have a choice. You won't let me put you out and I need those legs of yours still."

"I w-won't move."

"You can't help it. Every time I go for the bullet your body buckles. Now either let me give you somethin' for the pain or Vin's gonna have to hold you down. We'll try to keep an eye on Ezra from here," Nathan replied, praying the gunfighter would see sense.

Vin caught the look in Jackson's eyes and knew what he was up to. "Should I be away from him, Nate? What if somethin' happens? He's shakin' real bad."

"Damn, he must be gettin' worse, but I gotta have help here."

Buck straightened and stared at the two behind him.

Chris raised his head and watched the tracker pull the blanket over the gambler and move to the side of the table. "N-no don't…"

Vin pushed his knees down and leaned over them. "Alright, let's do it."

Buck eyed Ezra anxiously. "Nate?"

"We don't have a choice."

"But…"

Chris tried to roll himself off the table. "D-don't leave him."

"Hold still," Nathan said as he snatched a bare shoulder slick with sweat. "Listen to me, Chris, maybe we can compromise. Vin can stay with Ezra if you let me give you somethin' to take the edge off."

Larabee eyed him suspiciously.

"It won't knock you out, but maybe it'll relax you enough to let me do what I gotta do." Jackson watched the lawman think it over. "It's that or you're forcing me to risk Ezra bein' on his own."

"No," he answered sharply, gripping the healer's arm in turn.

"Okay then, let me get what you need and Vin can help Ezra."

Chris' agreement was nearly inaudible but he let go and silently waited for Nathan to fetch whatever it was he'd been blackmailed into taking. Tanner, seeing there would be no more argument, hurried back to the bed and began talking to the gambler in a low, soothing voice.

When Nathan returned with a cup of tea, he held the concoction to Chris' lips and waited for him to take a sip. "Drink, I promise it'll just help you relax."

Chris frowned.

"I wouldn't trick you, Chris. I won't mess with you unless you mess with me. Now remember our deal and we all just might make it through the night."

Larabee studied Nathan's face and decided he could trust him. He downed the bad tasting liquid and pushed the cup away when he finished. Damn, but it was nasty stuff.

Buck smiled to himself, grateful his friend had consented to some relief before the surgery. He cooled the rag he held in the basin of water, wrung it out with one hand and draped it across Chris' brow. The man was dog-tired but he wasn't giving in, he kept blinking his eyes in a stubborn attempt to remain clear-headed. Buck knew he desperately needed an anchor so when Larabee's trembling hand touched his arm, he quickly gathered it in his own and held tight.

Nathan checked on Ezra while he waited for the herbs he'd given Chris to take effect. Despite what the gunfighter had been told Ezra appeared to be gradually getting past the threat of shock. There was however a new danger rearing its ugly head – fever. He'd known from the beginning infection was inevitable; now it seemed he was right. The gambler's body was struggling against the contamination of its wounds and his condition would likely get worse before it got better. He instructed Vin to watch him closely and moved to stand alongside Buck. He nudged the tall cowboy with his elbow and whispered, "Talk to him." Then he aimed the forceps he picked up from the towel towards the large hole in Chris' belly.

"Just hang in there, pard," Buck said. "Nathan'll have you fixed up in no time."

Chris peered into the blue eyes hovering above him and tried to smile, but the expression twisted into a grimace when he felt the cold pressure of metal once again enter his body. The medicine he'd been given must have kicked in because he was unable to move his hips or raise his knees when he felt the need. His arms and shoulders also grew weaker and he was about to accuse Nathan of lying to him about the medicine when he felt the instrument in his body plow deeper. No, Nate hadn't lied… he was still very conscious. He felt a foolish grin pull at his lips as he appreciated the fact his trust in the healer hadn't been misplaced.

Buck caught the look and wondered if the pain was too much to bear. "You okay, buddy?"

Chris took a deep breath and nodded. The intrusion in his belly seemed to have a direct effect on his ability to speak… pain gets stronger, teeth clench tighter. When he felt Nathan push harder he nearly shattered every tooth in his head.

Buck heard the gunfighter gag. "Go ahead and yell if you need to."

He was about to take his advice when he heard a sound… a sound that shouldn't have been there, a sound that was just outside his own grunts and groans. He turned his head in search of the noise and saw a shadow near the window. The sun had just gone down, and even though the dusky dark could play tricks on a person, he knew without a doubt someone was there. He squeezed Buck's hand tighter to get his attention. Buck simply squeezed back. He tried to rise, to reach for his gun, but his muscles had gone flaccid. It was happening, the one thing that terrified him most; the Nichols gang had come back and he was unable to protect his men.

Nathan continued to dig inside his body, completely focused on his work, but he had to stop him and get his attention. They had to see the danger. He took a deep breath and forced his lips apart. "Nngghhooo," he finally spat out as he pushed against the weight on his chest.

Buck felt him twist and finally glanced down. The look on Chris' face stopped him cold. He'd seen that look many times in the past and knew in an instant something was wrong. He didn't hesitate to raise a warning. "Nathan," he called. "Stop what you're doin'."

The healer didn't look up. "Not now, Buck, I'm havin' trouble holdin' on to the damn thing."

Chris groaned and pleaded with the man on top of him without having to say a word.

"Nathan, you have to stop now," Buck said.

Jackson heard the alarm in Wilmington's voice and pulled his bloody fingers from the body wriggling under his hands. "What is it?"

Larabee stared at the window and again saw the shadow cross it. A second later, he heard a scraping sound.

"Something's got him upset," Buck said, stroking a hand across Chris' forehead as the gunfighter strained to look around him.

"Well yeah, Buck, we're trying to dig a bullet from his gut while he's still awake. I'd say he has every reason to be upset, but it's his own choice."

"It ain't that."

The gunfighter jerked and the atmosphere in the room changed. The hairs on the back of Nathan's neck stood up and he suddenly understood Buck's meaning. He'd learned long ago to trust the instincts of his leader and right now Chris' body language was screaming trouble. There was definitely something else going on.

"Chris," Nate said gently, resting a hand on his patient's chest. "Chris, take a deep breath and tell us what's got ya so worked up."

Larabee took a long breath and exhaled slowly before he could force intelligible words past his lips. "Someone's… outside."

"It's alright, you're just in a lot of pain and the medicine is…"

"No… saw someone," he insisted. "Heard them."

Buck kept a firm hand around Chris' wrist as he tried to get a better look. "I didn't hear anything."

"Well I did," Vin said, watching the window and shuffling backwards off the bed. "He's right, someone's outside." He grabbed the gun lying on the bedside table and ran to the door.

Chris dragged his free hand weakly from his chest to his side and fumbled for his weapon. This time he managed to loosely grip it as he rolled over to lean against Buck. The room seesawed around him as bright flares ignited behind his eyes. He sucked in a sharp breath and waited for the brightness to dim; unaware Buck had turned him loose and his own fingers now had a death grip on Wilmington's arm. "G-go help Vin," he wheezed.

A disembodied voice said, "I do that and you'll find your ass on the floor."

Chris tried to scoot one leg off the table.

"Un-unh, pard, just sit still, there's no way you're climbin' down from there."

A hand crept around his back and hauled him to where he started. The brilliant lights slowly faded and the room around him stilled, but before he could celebrate the return of his sight he felt a ripping pain slice through his belly and a disconcerting queasiness swell in his throat. He lowered his eyes to the wound in his stomach and saw a white bandage clinging to him, his own blood apparently serving as the adhesive. It was a chilling sight, and one he could have definitely done without since it raised his nausea to a whole new level, but he couldn't seem to ignore it.

Buck felt Chris sag against him and knew he was about to cave in. He adjusted his hold to keep the gunfighter from toppling to the floor and called to Nathan. "Anything?"

Jackson had strategically placed himself between Ezra and the door and stood ready to defend should the Nichols try to enter the clinic. His jaw set, his back went rigid and a gun appeared in his hand. It was clear no one would get past him. He stayed that way, without so much as the movement of breath, until he saw Tanner come running back up the stairs. "Vin?"

"Chris was right, there was someone out there. I heard 'em hit the bottom steps as I went out but I lost 'em in the dark."

"Damn," Buck said, "had to be the Nichols."

Vin nodded, shut the door behind him and went back to the bed to sit beside Ezra. He kept his gun close, never taking his eyes off the window.

Chris shifted against Buck, still clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping him conscious. "We have to catch them."

Wilmington turned, pulled Chris' hands away and reached to take him bodily in his arms. "We will, buddy, we will. Now let's get you on your back so Nathan can finish up."

Chris offered no resistance as the tall cowboy hefted him up and carefully lowered him flat onto the table. Despite his best efforts, he was growing weaker and the feeling terrified him. He had to be ready to fight. So many times in the past he'd failed to shield those he cared about – Sarah, Adam. Even Hank had suffered because of him. Now they were all dead and here he lay useless.

Buck felt his chest tighten when he saw the play of emotions crossing Chris' face. He'd seen that look before and knew exactly what was going through his mind. "Don't do this, Chris. Ain't none of this your fault."

Sad green eyes turned away.

"I won't let nothin' happen to you or Ezra."

Chris finally faced the gentle mustached face and nodded. He was about to say something but clamped down on the words when he felt Nathan's hands on his belly again.

"Easy now," Buck said when he saw Nathan reinsert the slender metal instrument into the bullet hole. Blood poured freely at an alarming rate but the healer merely wiped it aside and kept digging.

Larabee jerked beneath the pressure of his ministrations and groaned. "Buck," he called. "Please… don't…"

"Don't what?"

"Don't… let me… pass out," he answered in short gasps.

"Just let go, Chris. Don't fight it."

"Buck…" Chris sucked in a painful breath and blinked his eyes again.

"It's alright," Wilmington answered. "Ol' Buck's gonna watch your back. Just let go."

Heavy eyelids fluttered lazily before they finally closed and Chris' world slowly fell away.

TBC

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter and sent me private emails... seems like Chris and Ezra are neck and neck as favorites, with Buck and Vin coming in close behind!

For some reason this chapter was a beast to write... Please let me know what you think!