Chapter 28
Vin started for the door.
"Where you goin', Vin?" Billy asked.
Vin turned. He hadn't heard Billy get up. The little boy's eyes were wide with fear, his hair sticking up from another restless night of sleep. His splinted arm held awkwardly at his side.
"Where's your sling, Pard?" Vin asked. He looked around Mary's apartment, trying to remember where Billy had taken it off before bed. He saw it hanging from the back of a chair near the door to Mary's room. He got it and brought it over to Billy.
Billy let Vin put it over his shoulder. Vin gently lifted Billy's injured arm and set it to rest in the sling.
"Are you leavin'?" Billy asked, clearly not distracted by the sling.
"I was just gonna go check in with Ezra, make sure it was a quiet night."
He saw Billy bite his lip nervously. He had been clinging to Mary, constantly checking where Vin was.
"You want to come with me?" Vin asked. It couldn't be easy on the boy, being cooped up with a busted arm. And it sure couldn't be healthy for him to be cowering for days on end in the apartment. "Be my deputy for the day?"
Billy's eyes lit up for the first time since the kidknapping. "A real deputy?"
"Of course," Vin said. "We'll stop over at the jail and get you a badge first thing."
"Oh wow," Billy breathed. Then nodded vigorously. "Yeah, sure thing. I'll be the best deputy you ever had, Vin!"
Vin smiled. The boy's enthusiasm did a lot to reassure Vin the boy might not be so far from a full recovery after all.
"Is your ma still sleepin'?" Vin asked.
Billy nodded. "I'll go tell her I'm going with you."
Vin put out a light hand to stop his new deputy. "We should let her sleep. We'll leave her a note."
He found a notepad and pencil, not a difficult task in a newswoman's apartment.
Vin knew his writing was lacking. He figured his spelling was even sorrier than his printing. But he scrawled out a few words saying Billy was with him. Hopefully it was legible. The last thing he'd want to do was worry Mary. He took the sugar bowl and set it on the note in the center of the kitchen table.
"Can we go now?" asked Billy.
Vin looked down at the little face, full of eager anticipation looking up at him. "We better get goin'," Vin said. "We're burning daylight."
Billy nodded. "Burning daylight," he repeated seriously.
Vin hid his grin and opened the door for the boy.
Billy nearly bounded down the stairs and Vin kept pace with him, one eye on the boy's injured arm.
"I'm gonna check in with JD over at the jail, make sure it was a quiet night," Vin told Billy.
Billy nodded and kept pace with Vin as they headed toward the jail.
JD was sitting outside on a chair. Chris would have been next to him if things were normal. But they were anything but that right now. Vin thought of Lucy out at the ranch with Chris looking after her. It would be a relief when they got this all settled and he could move her back into town. Or maybe find a place for them outside of town, somewhere Lucy could settle in and not jump at every shadow.
"Mornin', JD," Vin greeted him.
"Mornin', Vin." JD was rocked back on his chair. He dropped it down to all four legs. "Mornin', Billy," he said with a smile. "Good to see you out and about."
"He's gonna be workin' as our deputy for the day," Vin said.
JD's grin spread before he contained it, dropping it for a serious expression and nodded solemnly at Billy. "That's real good, Billy. We could sure use the help."
Billy grinned widely.
"You want to ask him how the night was?" Vin coached Billy.
Billy nodded, then matched JD's serious expression, his little brow furrowing slightly as he lowered his voice. "Was it a quiet night?" he asked, echoing Vin's words from earlier.
"Sure was," JD said, glancing up toward Vin and giving him a slight nod to let him know he wasn't watering anything down for Billy.
"Good," Vin said. He rested a hand on Billy's head. "You ready for breakfast, then, Deputy?"
Billy nodded eagerly.
"Wait a minute," JD said before they could go. He hopped up from his chair and went into the jail. Vin and Billy followed after him.
JD opened a drawer in the desk and rummaged through it, before closing it and trying a different drawer. "Here it is." He straightened and held something out to Vin.
Vin took it from him and looked at it. A small deputy badge.
"Look what the sheriff has for you," Vin said to Billy. "Every deputy should have a badge." He knelt down to Billy's level and pinned it to the boy's shirt.
"Wow…" Billy breathed. He reached up his free hand to brush against the small metal pin. "Thanks, JD. Thanks, Vin."
"Thank you," JD said. "We need another deputy around here."
Vin rested his hand on Billy's shoulder. The left the jail behind and started toward the café. Vin thought of how close Mary had come to losing her son. How close he had come to losing them both. He squeezed Billy's shoulder gently. Billy looked up at him and grinned.
Some of the fear Vin had carried since the night Billy and Mary were taken finally unwound in his chest.
#
Chris sat at the edge of the bed, catching his breath.
"Just take your time, buddy," Buck said.
Chris grunted. He hated feeling weak. From what Buck had said, he had been pretty sick for awhile so it wasn't unexpected for him to be struggling with the simplest tasks. But that didn't mean he liked it.
Something hit him in the face.
"Sorry," Buck said.
Chris took the shirt Buck had tossed to him. He pulled it on, managing a few buttons before deciding it was good enough.
"Ready?" Buck asked.
Before Chris could answer, a light tap sounded on his open bedroom door.
Lucy stood there, her blue eyes quickly taking him in before her brow knitted. "I—I was going to tell you lunch is ready. Are you—are you getting up? Do you need help?"
She glanced toward Buck before darting her gaze back to Chris. Chris had no idea how she could be so skittish around Buck and then look to him like he was a safety net. No one in their right mind would be scared of Buck. And no one with the most basic sense would look at Chris like they'd rather be near him.
"It couldn't hurt to have extra hands," Buck said agreeably.
Lucy moved to Chris' side and Chris caught the faintest scent of lavender. He looked over at Lucy, her light hair in a braid down her back, blue eyes warm with compassion. She put her hand lightly on his arm and the touch was familiar. Something he didn't remember, but felt like he should.
"Let's go," Buck said.
Chris pushed to stand. Spots danced in front of his eyes, but he ignored them, taking a step forward. Buck hovered nearby, but Lucy kept contact with him. Her hand on him was an anchor of stability.
"Would you like to go to the kitchen?" she asked quietly.
"Porch," Chris said, trying not to show how winded the bit of activity was making him.
Lucy didn't argue and stayed near him as he shuffled through the hall, the kitchen, and out onto the porch.
He made it to the rocking chair and managed to sit without collapsing into it.
"I'll get you a chair," she said to Buck.
"I can get it," Buck said easily, but Lucy was already darting back into the house like she half expected Buck to strike her for not getting him a seat quickly enough.
Buck met her at the door and took the kitchen chair from her with a thanks, carrying it to join Chris.
"You gonna sit?" Chris asked.
Lucy glanced at Buck and shook her head. "I can bring your lunch out here," she said and then slipped back into the house.
For a minute Chris felt a flash of annoyance at Buck for staying at the cabin if it meant it kept Lucy at a distance. He corralled that thought. Without Buck, Lucy would have the responsibility of the ranch solely on her shoulders. Buck was a good friend, a good man.
"You know what you need?" Buck asked.
Chris leaned back in his chair, finding a comfortable position. "What's that?"
"Some of Old Man Barclay's moonshine. That'll get your strength back up."
"If it doesn't kill me," Chris countered, but he grinned over at his longtime friend. A cough caught him and he leaned forward, the coughing fit racking his body.
When it passed, he sat back, completely spent.
Lucy was standing there, two plates in hand, worry pinching her face.
"I'm fine," Chris told her. "Gonna take a bit to shake the cough."
Lucy nodded. She handed Buck a plate, then handed Chris his.
"I have a tea Nathan left. It should help with the cough," she said.
Chris would rather have coffee. Or moonshine. But she looked so uncertain, so concerned, he found himself nodding. "Yeah, tea's good."
The relief on her face told him he'd given the right answer. Lucy disappeared into the house again.
Chris wanted to tell her to sit out on the porch with him and Buck, stop scurrying around and take a rest. But he thought about her jitteriness with Buck and didn't want to push her. So he took the tea when she returned, trying not to grimace at the smell and compare it to the good strong coffee she handed Buck.
"Lucy," he said, pausing her retreat.
She stopped and looked at him.
"I appreciate it," he said.
She offered him the faintest shadow of a smile before ducking her head and going back into the house.
#
Lucy found refuge in the barn. She had cleaned up the kitchen and it had been a relief to finally get it set right after the last several days being filled with caring for Chris. She had hurried past Chris and Buck on the porch and gone down to the barn.
She went to Gal's stall. Every stall was clean, water buckets filled, fresh hay in every manger. She breathed in the sweet scent of hay and silently thanked Buck.
Buck was a good man. She could see why her brother trusted him. She wished she could stop her heart from lurching at every sudden movement Buck made, stop herself from quailing every time he came near and towered over her.
She ran her hand over Gal. The mare didn't shy away, enjoying Lucy's touch. Another thing Lucy had to thank Chris for.
She moved from Gal to Chris' stallion, giving him some attention, then Buck's mount.
The shadows in the barn grew and Lucy finally stepped away from the horses, dusting her hands lightly on her skirts. She would need to start supper preparations.
She stepped out of the coolness of the barn into the sun that still cast warmth over the land. Buck and Chris were still sitting on the porch. She couldn't hear what Buck said, but saw the slight smile Chris responded with. Then whatever Chris said had Buck tossing his head back with a laugh.
For a second, Lucy felt a pang of loneliness. She hadn't had that kind of ease with anyone since Vin had left Texas.
She hurried up the porch steps, intending to get into the house quickly without interrupting them, but Buck called to her.
"You want to pull up a chair?" he asked.
Lucy started to shake her head, but then saw Chris looking at her with those piercing green eyes.
"I'd enjoy the company."
A warmth that chased the chilling worry that had plagued her since Chris took sick.
"I'll get another chair," Buck said, getting up and motioning for Lucy to take his.
Lucy perched on the chair.
"Fresh air feels good," Chris said when Buck went inside.
Lucy agreed. The sickroom had been suffocating at times.
Buck came back out, carrying another chair. He moved past Lucy and set it on the other side of Chris. Lucy's muscles relaxed slightly at the distance he put between them.
Buck picked up a jug and poured a splash into Chris' mug. Lucy's muscles immediately tightened again. The familiar burning smell of alcohol seared her nose.
She tried to remind herself she had seen these men drink in the saloon. They hadn't gotten drunk. They hadn't turned mean.
Buck poured himself a generous splash of the drink, then started to set the jug aside. He paused then held it up for Lucy in question.
Lucy shook her head immediately, thinking of the one time she had tried drinking. Of their own accord, her eyes strayed toward Chris while Buck leaned back over to set down the jug.
Chris met her eyes and she saw what she would have once read as a sharp glint. She recognized it now as the sense of humor he rarely let to the surface.
"Sorry there ain't sarsaparilla to mix with it," he said.
Lucy's cheeks warmed slightly at the memory of how sick she had been, Chris holding her hair back when her stomach roiled.
The humor finally moved Chris' lips into a spare smile.
In spite of the flush in her cheeks, Lucy's own mouth curved in response. She noticed Buck glancing her way and looked away from Chris, down at her hands in her lap.
Chris settled more easily into his chair, lifting the mug of moonshine to his lips and taking a drink.
The shadows grew longer as they sat on the porch, Buck sharing stories that had Lucy relaxing into her own chair, hearing about her brother and how he had protected the town, finding a place to belong.
She wanted a place to belong. A place free from fear. She glanced at Chris. He met her eyes again, this time holding them for a beat before she felt the heat in her cheeks again and looked away.
It wasn't until she stood to go make supper that she realized how cool it had gotten. She ducked into the house and came back out with a blanket. Then felt foolish as she held it out to Chris. But he didn't say anything about her coddling him or mock her for caring. He nodded his thanks and took the quilt.
Lucy went back inside, but didn't go directly to the stove. She looked around the now familiar house, snug and welcoming. But it wasn't the house. There was little décor to give it warmth. Few amenities.
She heard Chris' voice drifting in through the window.
Somehow it was starting to feel like home.
#