Please see Chapter 1 for Warnings and Disclaimers
Chris peeked in on her later and couldn't curb his smile. In sleep her face softened and she looked young and innocent like a little girl should. With quiet ease he removed her boots and squared her on the bed before covering her with a blanket. He blew out the lamp and then placed a kiss on her head, his heart constricting as memories of his son came unbidden. "Night, angel," he whispered hoarsely with tears in his eyes.
Chapter 3
When Torie awoke with a start the morning sun was shining through her window. She stretched surprised to have slept through the night. Usually, she was awakened by nightmares. She pushed the covers aside and paused as the events of the past evening flooded her waking mind. One hand went to rub her backside but the sting had faded completely while she slept.
She put her boots on, only too aware that someone had been in to remove them and cover her with a blanket. Then she moved to the window and noticed the broken tree branch dangling, a morbid reminder of her failed escape attempt, as if she needed one. Opening the window, she looked down to see the bundle she had lowered the night before, hidden safely behind the bushes. Hopefully Chris would not notice anything missing before she had another chance to get away.
With a heavy sigh, she shut the window. Another chance was going to be hard to come by. Torie moved from her dresser and poured some water in the basin to wash her face, then brushed through her tangled hair. The past months were a blur of unreality while last night shone in vivid contrast. Chris Larabee had honestly seemed concerned for her safety and had made his point with alarming clarity.
For the first time since attending her mother's funeral Torie's determination waivered, just ever so slightly. A small voice inside her head told her that if anyone could keep her from her quest for revenge it would Chris Larabee. The girl yanked angrily on a knot in her hair. Who did he think he was? As if bedding her mother actually made him anything to her!
Shame colored Torie's cheeks. She owed her mother better than to think like that. In fact if she closed her eyes, Torie could hear Ysebella imploring her in a soft French accent to do her best to build a relationship with Christopher when she was gone. To be a good girl for her "Papa." Of course that was when they thought the lovely singer would die quietly in her bed. Before those bastards had beat the life out of her gentle mother. Torie's eyes snapped open, the rage quickly returning.
She heard a knock at the door and then she watched in the mirror as Chris entered.
"Heard you, stirring," he paused. He never had been a man of many words, and that made situations like these all the more difficult. "You want to talk about last night?"
Her eyes narrowed and she turned to give the man a look of affronted contempt. He had spanked her! Kept her from leaving so that she could go hunt down the men that killed her mama and then spanked her!
Chris cocked an eyebrow, but she didn't answer other than to set down the brush and walk past him and out the door. That would be a definite "no". The angelic girl was gone once again replaced by the snarling hellcat. Lord help him!
"Thought we would go get some breakfast at the restaurant," he stated, his long strides quickly catching up to Torie.
She continued to ignore him, eyes straight ahead.
"Mornin'," Vin greeted the two as they walked into the street.
"Morning, Vin. We're headed for some breakfast, care to join us?" Chris answered, while Torie stonily refused to acknowledge the greeting.
"Thet sounds right nice," the tracker nodded falling in beside the two after he and Chris shared a look, all that was really needed for the two to communicate. "How'd ya sleep, Torie?"
Silence.
"Man asked you a question," Chris growled. He understood that she was none too happy but he was not going to let her be so rude as to ignore a direct question from someone who was just trying to be friendly.
She wanted to turn a deaf ear. Really she did, but before she could stop herself Torie mumbled, "Fine, than you."
"Glad to hear it."
"Mr. Larabee!" a lady's voice could be heard calling. "Mr. Larabee!"
Chris paused, wishing he could have at least had a cup of coffee first. Not that the owner and operator of the Clarion wasn't a fine woman and good friend, but with the mood his little girl was in right now his preference would have been to postpone this introduction. Not to mention that the newspaperwoman had a penchant for asking too many questions.
His hand dropped to caress the back of Torie's head, then came to rest gently at the base of her neck, before stepping closer to her and turning toward the approaching businesswoman. Torie found the gesture oddly comforting, though she couldn't imagine why. Her eyes darted suspiciously to the unknown blond closing the gap between them.
"Chris, I heard-" the woman pulled up short when confronted with the blatant animosity radiating from the green-eyed youth. "Well," she said with a smile for the child, hoping to dispel her obvious distrust. "That you had a visitor from out of town."
"Mary," Chris said tipping his hat. "This is my daughter, Torie," he explained with unreadable calm, "Torie, this is Mary Travis."
Mary held out her hand, "Welcome, to Four Corners, Torie."
The girl looked at the proffered hand, wondering what this woman was to Chris and then wondering why she cared. There was an awkward moment before Chris cleared his throat meaningfully. Feeling his soft hold tighten uncomfortably at her neck, Torie decided this wasn't a hill to die on and took the woman's hand, "Nice to meet you, Mam."
Well able to see the questions swimming in Mary's pale green eyes, Chris determined to keep this interaction short. "I'm just taking Torie over to have some breakfast. We'll see you around, Mary." With that he strode off not even giving the woman a chance to get started.
Torie managed to put away a healthy breakfast. One thing she had learned with her multiple escape attempts was that you never knew when and where your next meal might come.
"Didn't thet Marshal feed ya?" Vin quipped.
Her mouth full of food, Torie just shrugged. Both men were rather surprised when she deigned to answer after swallowing. "He was pretty het up to get here and be rid of me. Didn't take time for hot meals much the last few days."
Vin grinned. The girl certainly had spirit. He'd give her that. There was a wild element to Torie that he could really relate to. One he guessed had less to do with adverse life experiences and more with her true nature.
The door to the restaurant opened, and Torie almost choked when the object of their conversation entered. She had thought the Marshall would be out of town as fast as his horse could carry him. Apparently a warm bed and a hot meal had been too much to resist after his harrowing ordeal.
Much to her consternation, the weathered lawman headed directly for their table. He looked no happier to see her than she did to see him, but stopped no more than a foot from the table. "Understand you wanted to see me before I left town."
Larabee stood, eying the other man as if trying to take his measure. He nodded and extended his hand, "I wanted to say thank you for delivering my daughter safely to me. I know it was no easy task."
Torie snorted. By thwarting her efforts to escape, the Marshall had solidly pitted himself as her enemy and she would never think of him as anything else. In her mind he had justly deserved everything she had done to him.
Ignoring the girl, the Marshall took the peacekeepers hand, "Thanks. I'll admit that I don't envy you your job none."
"Torie," Chris's green eyes hardened, "You owe the Marshall an apology."
With a loud scoff she shook her end, "Problem is, I'm not sorry."
Grabbing her arm and dragging her from her chair, Chris growled, "You will be, if you don't apologize." He drew the girl in front of him so that she faced the Marshall, placing a hand on each of her shoulders.
She crossed her arms resolutely, shooting daggers at the lawman she faced. "I won't do it."
Not noting the missing pressure on her right shoulder until too late, Torie was astonished at the resounding SMACK that coincided with the immediate burn in her backside. She started to turn only to be held in place by the return of Chris' s hand to her shoulder. "You will unless you want a repeat of last night," he whispered in her ear.
Red faced, Torie looked up at the Marshall who did not bother to mask a satisfied smirk. Green eyes glared with hate at the man, but the last thing she wanted was to grant him a show he would undoubtedly find most entertaining. Not to mention that she was in no hurry to experience last night's discomfort again.
"I apologize for my behavior while we traveled together," she finally conceded.
The Marshall nodded, then met Chris's steady gaze. "Good luck," he said before taking his leave.
"You made that harder than it needed to be," Chris said, releasing his hold on Torie.
She pulled away from him, wishing she dared to say exactly what she was thinking. Wary of his recent threat, however, she kept her mouth shut.
Conscious of the curious onlookers, Chris settled the bill and led the way out of the public establishment. So much for a pleasant breakfast. When they reached the corral at the livery he stopped to lean against the fence watching a young sorrel prance around. Vin held back giving father and daughter some space.
"Torie, I know you are filled with a whole trough full of anger right now, and you have a right to be. It isn't right what happened to your mama, and it isn't fair. I know some of what you're feelin' but if you don't let some of that hate and anger go it will eat you up inside until there's nothing but a shell left." He turned to look at her, surprised to see the tears in her eyes.
"You do not know what I'm feeling," she said, her southern drawl more pronounced with the emotion in her voice. "Do not pretend you do."
"Bit more than three years ago, I lost my wife and son in a fire."
"They weren't murdered."
"The fire was set intentionally and the crazy woman who paid to have it done, well, she's still out there."
Torie's eyes widened, "I didn't know. I'm sorry," sympathetic tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Spent a lot of time wallowing in anger, not really living, not really caring if I died," he paused, unwilling to get overly graphic with the girl. If truth be told the gunman had climbed into a bottle, not caring who he hurt, be it himself, his friends, or unwitting strangers. His hair trigger temper had cost the life of more than one man and though they might have been termed fair fights, Chris knew that most could have been avoided.
"Torie, I am not trying to say I know exactly what you've been through. One person can't truly know another's pain, but I do have some notion of it. I know you're scared of life without your mama, but the bravest thing you can do is to keep on living." This wasn't the first time Chris had spoken those words to a hurting child. He only hoped Torie would eventually recover as well as Billy Travis had.
He reached out to wipe a tear from her face and then impulsively moved forward to pull the girl into his arms. She didn't resist, but clung to him and cried like there was no tomorrow. Months of grief and loneliness, of trying to pretend she was older than the twelve years she could claim, poured out of her. Finally, her tears subsided but she just held on, enjoying the comfort.
"You want to talk about it?"
"No," she whispered.
"That's okay."
"This, this doesn't change anything," she said, her voice trembling as she pulled away from him with some reluctance. "I'm not giving up."
Chris smiled down at her, "You're not, huh? Pretty stubborn aren't ya?"
"Mama said I got that from you."
"Reckon ya did," he nodded. "Just remember the rules still stand." Torie rolled her eyes, but chose not to comment.
***
Two days later Torie had made no overt attempts at escape, although she had made a habit of slipping away only to be found out to have the most innocent reason. Chris knew she was playing games and testing the seven peacekeepers' attentiveness, but he let it slide. Really it almost became a game.
Of course last night she had pushed her game a little too far when she had snuck out on Buck and no one had been able to locate her for an hour. The girl had been positively livid when Chris had insisted she spend the next hour facing at a corner, but had swallowed her vituperative words when he suggested she could be sitting far less comfortably.
Today Chris had left Torie at the church with Josiah while he went to have a talk with Ezra about the land deed Ysebella's lawyer friend had sent to him. After a few attempts at light conversation, the former preacher allowed the girl her silence. She seemed more settled than when she first arrived in Four Corners and the last thing he wanted to do was to get her riled again.
Before Josiah finished patching the section of wall he'd started on, Nathan had shown up asking if the girl wanted to stretch her legs and maybe get a snack. Buck and JD were sitting outside the hotel when they approached, Buck's long legs stretched out in front of him.
"I'm jest sayin,' Buck, that, well I don't know it surprises me is all."
"Hell, JD, you think he got the nickname Bareback Larabee, just because he was a damn fine bronc buster?" Buck looked up only to meet Torie's green eyes. "Well, you'd be right about that," the mustached man finished with a cough.
Torie rolled her eyes. "I might have been born in the dark, Buck Wilmington, but it was not yesterday." JD and Nathan laughed heartily.
"We miss somethin' funny?" Chris asked stepping onto the boardwalk with Ezra at his side.
"Buck was just tellin' us about how you got your nickname," Nathan explained.
Chris's eyes widened as he looked first at Buck then meaningfully at Torie and then back to Buck again.
"Now Chris," Buck started, raising his hand to forestall the blond gunman, "Ain't nuthin for you to be concerned over. Just talkin' about how good you are at breakin' a horse."
"Mmm. Hmm. Told you before, Buck, my past's my own," the leader of the seven warned, his voice stony.
"Aw dang, Chris" Buck started to say but stopped when he noticed the smile spreading across his friend's face. "You old dog!"
"Chris!" Joisiah's voice broke in as he came at them at a run. "Old Mr. Braxton's at it again. He's got the ranch hands pinned down in the bunkhouse this time."
Larabee ran his hand through his hair and swore. The man hadn't been right in the head since he'd lost his wife and when he started drinking, inevitably bullets started to fly. His aging mother usually sent someone for Chris since he was the only one able to talk the man down.
Nathan shook his head, "He can't be allowed to keep this up, Chris. He's gonna end up killin' someone."
"Yeah, I know. We'll bring him in this time."
"Vin headed out to visit Ko-Je this mornin'," Buck noted.
"Nate, you best come in case someone's been hurt. Josiah, Ms. Ruth will need you there for once it's all said and done," Chris said, knowing that the religious woman would take comfort in the former preacher's company. "Buck, you best come along too." Chris turned to look at Torie, speculatively. "JD take Torie over to the jail and lock her up in a cell."
"WHAT?!" the girl demanded.
Chris turned to his daughter with an icy gaze. "Went to show Ezra that property deed of your mama's and found a few things missin'. We'll talk 'bout that later.
Ezra," Chris turned to the confidence man, "Go with 'em. Make sure she doesn't con JD into letting her out."
"Those are my things. You can't lock me up like a criminal!" Torie yelled at him as JD took her arm.
"Behave yourself, angel," Chris said as he turned to go.
***
An hour later a very unhappy Torie, sat arms crossed glaring at the young Sheriff. Ezra had gone to get them some lunch and poor JD had tried unsuccessfully to draw Torie into a conversation. A sigh of relief passed the young man's lips when he saw the door to the jailhouse open, but his brown eyes registered surprise when it was Mary Travis who opened the door.
"Hi, Mz. Travis," he stood to greet the woman, removing his bowler hat. "What can I do for you?"
The blond woman's eyes went from JD to the cell where Torie sat on the bed. "JD, why is that child locked in a jail cell?" she demanded.
"Ah, well, Chris's orders Mz. Travis," the dark-haired young man stuttered uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot.
Mary's look was incredulous, "Why on earth would he do that?"
"Well, ah, ya see, she's kinda got it in her head ta seek revenge like on the men that killed her ma, and keeps tryin' ta sneek off ta do that," JD explained in a rush.
A quiet sobbing could be heard from the cell. Torie had brought her knees up to her chest and had her head buried in her hands, crying.
"Oh, dear," Mary said moving to the bars. "Sweetheart, are you alright?"
The girl raised her head, tears streaming down her face. "I'm scared and I miss Mama," she wailed convincingly. "I'm sorry for trying to run away, but I, I, I was just so confused. I don't want to be locked up in jail forever. I just miss my mama."
"Of course you do, sweetie. JD open this door at once."
Before JD could even reply a loud deliberate clapping could be heard at the doorway and all eyes turned to Ezra. "That was a brilliant production, my dear! You are a born thespian."
"Ezra, I do not know what you are getting at but I demand that this girl be released into my care at once."
"I mean, my dear Missus Travis, that young Torie has just played you like a fine violin," he drawled. "And although staying in your good graces is indeed something for which I ordinarily strive, neither myself nor the good Sherriff are likely to risk our lives for yielding to your demands."
Mary turned back to the sniffling girl, uncertainty in her eyes. Torie looked utterly distraught. Surely that couldn't all be an act. Still, she supposed Chris must have a reason for locking up his own daughter. "I'm sorry, Torie. I will definitely be speaking to your father when he returns."
When Mary left, Torie dried her eyes and gave Ezra a look that might have frozen the river in mid-summer. "You are going to regret that, fancy man."
"Not as much as I would have regretted explaining your absence to Mr. Larabee."
Late in the afternoon, JD had just returned from stretching his legs and Ezra went to answer a call of nature. The young Sherriff was literally scared out of his seat at an ear piercing scream from Torie who was now standing with her back pressed against the bars a look of pure terror on her face.
"What is it?"
"A rat."
"What?"
"A rat just ran under the bed."
"Oh, ain't nuthin' ta git all worked up over," he said grabbing the keys and moving forward.
"Haven't you ever heard of the plague? I've read about it. It kills people in less than a day, and it's spread by rats."
JD's back stiffened and he swallowed hard, reaching for his gun. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it. He unlocked the door to the cell and pointed his gun at the bed, approaching slowly. "Which side is it on?"
"The one by the pillow," she answered, her voice trembling.
Taking another tentative step JD was caught completely off guard when something hit his gun hand, making him drop his weapon. He spun around only to see Torie closing the cell door, and removing the keys from the lock, his pearl-handled revolver in hand.
"I am truly sorry about this, JD, but I am going to need to borrow your gun for a short time."
"Torie ya don't wanta do this."
The girl was already gone. Time to take care of Ezra before she retrieved her own weapons from behind the bushes at the boardinghouse. Then she'd be riding out on the card player's horse – she had warned him she'd be getting even and it really was just a loan after all.
TBC