Disclaimer: I do not claim any rights over the Magnificent
7 characters used in this story, which has been written for the joy of writing
only (whether it be good writing or no) and for no other purpose (such as
monetary gain). The Mag 7 characters/aspects of the story are owned by Trilogy
Entertainment Group, the Mirisch Group and MGM. The song is part of the
soundtrack (end credits) for The Devil's Own. Don't know who wrote/performed
it yet - will have to rent the video again.
Warning: Occasional strong language
| Take off my shame And bury it low I won't need it anymore Find me the sun And give me it whole Melt all the chains in my soul And tell them I'm all right I'm coming home This war is over I'm coming home |
Larabee was stunned. He stood rooted to the spot as the man before him sat nervously on his horse waiting for some response.
"Vin?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.
The man on the horse waited, he hadn't heard or used that name in twenty years. He'd changed his name to avoid bounty hunters finding him while in prison. By the time he'd got out he was Daniel Tenney, the man that was Vin Tanner was buried, he'd thought, forever. But, since the village Vin Tanner had been fighting his way back to the surface. He looked around through squinted eyes, then back at the man in front of him, and it was Vin Tanner that answered.
"Chris."
Chris could see that his old friend was nervous <<Shit-scared, more like>> as he watched him look everywhere but at him. When he finally looked back and spoke his name, Chris felt a tightening in his chest. He sounded so tired, beaten.
Vin let out a slow breath when he saw the other man start to smile and some of the tension he'd been feeling began to ease. He started to dismount, lifting his leg carefully over the saddle.
When Chris saw Vin move he found himself taking that final step and, as soon as Vin's feet were on the ground, he grabbed him in a bear hug.
"Vin! You son-of-bitch!"
Vin was surprised by this display of emotion and his arms hung limp by his sides, he remained unresponsive. Chris grabbed his shoulders and pulled away to look into his face.
"What is it, Vin?"
Vin couldn't get words passed the lump in his throat but Chris didn't need words - never had, he could see the answer in his friend's eyes. Those damned eyes that had haunted him all these years. They'd aged somewhat, grown hard but he could still see right into the centre of the man's very being. Right now, those eyes told him everything he needed to know and he ached at the amount of guilt, regret and pain that he saw there. Larabee eased his grip as he watched a ripple of pain flow across his friend's face.
Vin's eyes were hot and watery again as he felt the strength of his friend's feelings, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak. He was trapped in Chris' embrace and, when he looked into his eyes, became trapped in his steady gaze. One tear escaped to run down his cheek. When Chris' hold lightened he suddenly felt panic and he clutched at the other man's arms like a drowning man to a rope.
Chris flinched when he saw the turmoil in those blue eyes but he didn't back down. He held the other man tight once more and this time the bear hug was returned.
******
Mary came out to the front porch to greet the new day and to watch over the youngest of the children as they went about their assorted chores. She paused in her amused scolding of one overly eager youngster when she saw her husband standing with another man on the far side of the corral. She felt a moment of unease as she took in the stranger's rough appearance but it eased when she saw them both smile. Chris clapped the other man on the back and they both came towards the house.
Mary smoothed out her apron and patted down her hair before stepping down from the porch.
"Good morning," she greeted the stranger.
The man briefly touched the brim of his hat and nodded.
"Mornin' Mary."
Mary forgot what she'd been going to say next as she stared at the man in front of her. She looked at his worn clothes, his bulky coat and the battered hat pulled low on his head. He stood there and stared back, waiting. One hand still holding the reins of his horse, the other with one thumb hooked into his gun belt - he leaned into the horse.
Mary's hands came up to her cover her mouth now wide open in sudden recognition.
"Vin Tanner?" she breathed huskily looking at Chris' amused face for confirmation. His smile broadened as he nodded to her.
She ran to the tracker then and threw her arms around him. Her onslaught caused him to step back and he winced at the pain the unexpected movement sent shooting up his back. Chris caught the sudden change in the man's expression but kept silent as he watched the pain give way to a genuine smile.
"Good to see ya too Mary but ya better let go or Chris'll get jealous."
Mary held him a moment longer then let go, her hands searching for the handkerchief in her apron pocket. Chris took Mary's hand and held it tight as he looked down at her. Then he turned to his friend.
"C'mon pard, let's get you settled." He clapped him on the back again, "one of the boys'll take care of yer horse".
Vin handed the reins to a tall teenager hovering close by, "Thanks kid" and followed Larabee to the washbasin at the side of the house where he removed his hat and coat to wash up before going inside.
"What's this?" Chris asked running his hand over his friend's head. Vin looked up, running his own, wet hands through his short hair - he was just starting to grow it back out, and shrugged. He'd had to keep it short in prison for practical reasons and soon realised that it also made an effective disguise. Nobody had guessed that Daniel Tenney and Vin Tanner were one and the same. Now, of course, he had to grow it long again for the same reason.
"Looks good," Chris added though he thought it also made him look harder than what he knew him to be. <<Shit! Do I really know him anymore?>> he asked himself as he continued to watch him clean up.
Vin could feel Chris staring and he glanced sideways, one eyebrow raised. The slight movement brought Chris back to earth and he threw the handtowel at the other man to cover his embarrassment.
"Let's get inside."
They walked through the kitchen door to be greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and hotcakes.
"Sit right down and I'll get some coffee poured," Mary ordered them as she busily brought out plates and mugs.
The pair sat down in silence, neither quite sure what to say next. Chris had noticed Vin wincing again as he sat down and decided that was as good a place as any to start.
"Are ya hurt or just getting' old?" he asked him. Vin thanked Mary for the coffee she placed on the table before answering.
"Both. Don't heal as quick as I used to."
"Anythin' I should know about?" Chris asked.
Vin gave him a quick look, his answer guarded, "Don't reckon so."
Chris sipped his coffee as Mary placed a platter of hotcakes on the table between them. The kitchen door opened again and a young boy entered, his face lighting up at the sight and smell of the fresh hotcakes. He casually walked over to the table and reached out to grab one when his eyes met those of Vin Tanner. The boy's hand stopped, hanging mid-air over the platter, as he stared at the stranger.
"Tommy, mind your manners!" Mary scolded him as she picked up a clean cloth and began filling it with hotcakes.
Vin's eyes grew amused and the corner of his mouth drew up in a grin. Chris flicked the boy in the head to get his attention. When he finally got it he proceeded to introduce the boy.
"Vin, this is Tommy"
"Mornin' Tom," Vin replied, noticing how much the boy looked like his father. The same sandy-blonde hair and green/blue eyes. The boy mumbled something back before accepting the bundle of hotcakes from his mother and retreating to the yard to share his prize with his brothers and sisters.
Vin turned to Mary, "Fine lookin' boy ya got there Mary," he commented with a wry grin. Mary smiled proudly.
"Thank you Vin. He takes after his father, in more ways than one," she replied.
The conversation turned to desultory matters then as they sat drinking coffee and eating hotcakes. When they finished Chris took Vin on a tour of the ranch, filling him in on some of the highs and low of ranching and deliberately avoiding anything that might get Vin's guard up. He could wait a little longer.
****
After dinner they sat on the porch sharing a bottle of whisky and smoking the cigars that Chris kept for special occasions. It was a clear night and the sky was full of stars as they sat listening to the sounds of the people inside getting ready for their beds. Finally, all was quiet with only the occasional snort and soft whinny coming from the stables. An owl hooted in the distance as Chris Larabee took another sip of his whisky.
Vin fiddled with the harmonica in his pocket knowing Chris was going to expect some answers from him, not sure if he could give them.
The silence was becoming heavy in the still night when Chris finally spoke.
"Tell me about Daniel Tenney, Vin."
Vin felt his heart skip a beat when Chris finally spoke and he looked into the shot glass of amber liquid he held tightly in his clenched fist. He mentally forced his fingers to relax and gently moved the glass watching its contents swirl around as if the words he needed could be found in this simple movement. He slowly stood and walked over to the railing where he paused to stare off into the dark hills that surrounded the ranch. He finished his drink off quickly and brought the cigar to his mouth. It glowed hotly as he filled his lungs with its smoke.
"Reckon yer granpa'd be right proud of his namesake," he said bitterly, exhaling the smoke before stealing a look at the other man, "Right proud."
It was Larabee that had organised the name change. The original Daniel Tenney was his mother's father. The man had died when Chris was a boy and, though most of his memories of him were hazy now, he could still recall the simple satisfaction he'd always felt when they were together. A long forgotten memory of one of their many fishing trips came to Chris then. It was just before his grandfather had died; they'd gone out to share a beautiful spring day by the river. He remembered looking into his beloved grandfather's blue eyes and knowing, as only a child can, that they would always be together. A few weeks later the man had died and, though Chris missed him dearly, he never cried, he just waited for his grandfather to come back to him.
Chris came back to the present with a start when Vin grabbed the bottle to refill his glass before flopping back down in the chair.
"I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather use his name," Chris said quietly. Vin looked up and Chris was once again looking into those blue eyes. "Then or now," he finished.
Vin snorted in disbelief then knocked back the whisky in one gulp and sat staring into the empty glass.
"Almost came back after I got out but I couldn't do it." Vin's eyes narrowed at the sick feeling the shame still caused.
"We would of stood by ya Vin."
Vin shrugged. "A little bit of me died everyday I was in there Chris and there just weren't nothin' left but a empty shell," he confided.
"Tell me about it Vin."
And Vin did. Chris felt himself go pale as he heard about the horrendous conditions in the prison. The small dark cells, never being able to sleep properly because you didn't know when the next attack would come. Days and nights in isolation; whippings from the guards; beatings from other prisoners - his own violence as he fought back against the system. Fought the desperation he felt as the violence took over his soul.
Vin stood abruptly, bottle in hand, and walked over to the corral to stand with arms folded over the top railing. His horse came to him but was ignored as the tired man battled to control his emotions. Chris watched him go and waited a moment before quietly following. They stood there, together, in silence each thinking their own thoughts and wondering where they'd gone wrong.
"Joined the army after that," came Vin's matter-of-fact voice. "Been trackin' for them ever since, till a coupla months ago."
Chris stayed quiet, but Vin would say no more.
After awhile Chris spoke, "It's late, we'd better get some shut-eye. Got an early start in the mornin' fixin' that fence I never got done today."
"Reckon, I'll sleep in the barn," Vin said and started walking towards its huge doors.
"That ain't necessary Vin. Mary will have fixed a bed up for ya."
Vin stopped. "Thank Mary for me Chris but I sleep better outside," and he turned back towards the barn.
Chris shook his head and rubbed his chin with one hand then slowly turned on one heel and walked back to the porch. He lit a cheroot and sat in the dark thinking about the day's events; about Vin and how he'd changed but not changed since that first day when he'd looked into the eyes of a complete stranger and seen … his grandfather's steady gaze look back at him.
***
Vin climbed up to the barn loft and spread his bedroll over the loose hay as close to the window as he could get. He slowly let himself down and eased his leg into a comfortable position. <<Damn! I am getting old,>> he thought as he massaged out a sharp spasm in the small of his back. When the pain eased he layed down and lifted the bottle to his lips. He layed there staring at the stars and sipping the whisky until he heard Chris get up and finally go inside to bed. Then he put the bottle aside and moved to get comfortable. Within minutes his body started to relax and his breathing grew even and deep. His eyelids grew heavy and, just before he succumbed to sleep, his tired eyes watched a shooting star race across the sky.
*****
He could hear whispering. Sounded like he was at the end of a long tunnel or in a deep cave. The sounds echoed inside his head, sometimes loud enough he could almost discern the words other times a hushed litany cocooning him in its melodic tones. He tried to open his eyes but the effort was too much and he found himself instead falling into a void, a bottomless well of pain and confusion.
When the whispers came again he found he could understand the words and realised that there was more than one voice. He didn't try to open his eyes, just lay there, listening. Soon he could tell the voices apart. There were three people with him, one of them a woman her voice soft yet firm as she spoke to the others and, he realised, to him. The other two voices sounded like children. He listened to their whispered games and low giggles as they played.
The woman's voice spoke again, "Come" she said, "Open your eyes."
He resisted the urge to do as she asked – it was so peaceful where he was and he knew that if he opened his eyes all that would change. He felt a cool cloth caress his face, gentle fingers comb his hair. The voice continued on urging him to wake. The cloth was replaced by soft hands tracing the outline of his face. One finger tentatively touched his lips. The curious fingers began to weave a pattern around his eyes and he could hear a low humming. He opened his eyes.
He opened his mouth to speak but felt fingers pressed to his lips and then a flask of water. The woman carefully helped him to drink.
"Where am I?" he asked.
He blinked and tried to move but a wave of agony washed over him sending him back into the dark well.
And then he was hearing sounds again. He strained to hear the familiar voices but instead heard faint groans of pain followed by a muffled scream of such intensity that his eyes flew open in alarm. He turned his head to see the faint outline of the woman's face in the flickering firelight as she squatted on her hands and knees, grimacing in an expression of total agony. The children came to him and eased him back down. When he looked again he saw the women kneeling in the dirt, cradling something close in her arms, her head bent low. He heard the woman's cry of grief and pain and he felt guilty. <<All my fault>> he thought as his eyes closed once more.
"I'm sorry" he whispered. The woman turned her gaze to him, her eyes were dry, her face showed no emotion.
"My brother, his death was not your fault. His time will come again"
***
Vin woke up, disoriented, the smell of hay and horses filled his senses, the woman's sad voice his mind. And there was something else, he waited, listening, then rolled onto his side to see two small children just a few feet away stifling giggles. For a moment an image of another two children flashed in front of him. He gave this pair a baleful glare, which immediately stopped the giggling, then set about packing up his gear. The children watched mesmerised as he methodically rolled, folded and packed till there was no sign he'd slept there at all. He tossed the bedroll to the children to take down the ladder then grabbed his saddlebags and started down himself. The children looked at each other, shrugged and followed him.
They left the gear by the barn door and Vin ambled over to his horse, the children following dutifully behind, their eyes wide in admiration of the silent man.
Chris watched from his bedroom window, laughing as he saw his two youngest try to imitate his friend's slow walk.
"What is it?" asked Mary joining him by the window.
"I think Vin's found himself some new pards."
***
Later that morning, the two men worked side by side repairing the boundary fence, replacing rotted beams with new ones and checking others for damage. Vin thought about his dream while he worked, thought about the woman, and wondered about the strength of her determination to live free. It was her belief that had encouraged him to finally come to terms with himself and shown him the right path to take.
"Why did you help me?" he'd asked her once.
"It was the right thing to do," she'd replied.
The men took a break around midday, and sat down in the shade of a tree. Chris passed the canteen to Vin.
"What're ya plans now Vin?"
He shrugged and took a few mouthfuls of water before answering.
"Thought I'd finish helpin' ya with this fence."
Chris waited, Vin looked away, "I don't know Chris. Was waitin' to see how things worked out here."
"Yer welcome to stay on here as long as ya like."
Vin looked at the grass between his feet and started pulling it out by the handful. More than anything that was exactly what he wanted to do.
"Reckon I'll have trouble followin' me," he said. "As usual" he added with a slight smirk.
"We'll handle it when it comes." Chris assured him.
****
Vin had been at the ranch a week when Chris walked into the barn to see him saddling his horse. As usual his two little shadows were not far away passing things to the tracker as he needed them. Each child wore a colorful bandanna, one had on Vin's hat, the other reverently held the harmonica. Chris grinned at the sight.
"Ya goin' ridin'?" Chris asked the obvious and Vin gave a sharp nod.
"Want some company?"
"Short or tall?" Vin asked back throwing a quick glance at the twins. Chris laughed.
"Tall."
Vin smiled back his agreeance and Chris noticed how much more relaxed he looked from when he'd first arrived, almost like the old Vin. Almost, there was still a haunted air hanging about him and regret still showed in his eyes.
"I'll fix yer horse up." Vin's voice broke into his reverie and he frowned. "Reckon ya better let Mary know we're goin'."
Chris grimaced, "She'll take it better comin' from you pard, might even pack us some food." He nudged Vin away from the horse and took over, ignoring the other man's hesitation and smiling to himself when he heard him walk off towards the house.
Mary met him at the kitchen door with two satchels packed full of food and a resigned look on her face.
"I saw you getting ready to go, I expect Chris wants to go too?" she said before Vin could open his mouth.
"Thanks Mary," he mumbled accepting the load. "We're only goin' for a ride though …."
"Can we come, pleeeaaase?" interrupted the shadows hanging around Vin's feet. Vin looked down at the twins and then at Mary. He wasn't really sure how to handle all this hero worship and had tried to ignore them at first but that only made them more determined.
Mary caught the pleading look he sent her and shooed the children back out the door, "Absolutely not," she told them sternly. "Now, outside and play." The children ran out, laughing and went to corner their father instead.
She turned back to Vin, "I packed enough food in case you decide to stay out," she paused a moment to think about all the other things she wanted to say to this quiet man. " And Vin … I'm glad you came back"
"Took my time about it though , didn't I?"
"None of that matters anymore Vin. We're just happy you did"
"Yeah. Maybe." The haunted look came back into his eyes and Mary came forward to embrace him, her eyes glassy from the tears that welled there. He brought his arms up to return the embrace and whispered his thanks into her ear then turned and left the room, picking up the satchels on the way.
Mary went to the door and watched him walk over to Chris and the horses before walking over to join them. Chris mounted up and waited for Vin who stood in front of the twins solemnly accepting his hat and harmonica back from them. He knelt down on one knee then and the boys rushed him, nearly knocking him over.
He was smiling broadly as he climbed into the saddle and, nodding to Chris, gently urged his horse into movement.
***
They'd been riding an hour before either of them spoke, and it was Vin who broke the silence.
"Me an' the army parted ways 'bout two months ago," he said.
Vin didn't look at Chris as he spoke but the other man could feel his friend's anger as he waited for him to go on.
"My troop found a group of renegade Indian's hidin' out near Old Mexico. I led 'em right to the village." Vin snorted, "Some village. Just a bunch a tired-lookin' wickiups an' a couple a tepees."
Vin looked at Chris then, "Snuck up on 'em before dawn, didn't give no warnin', and attacked." A veil of pain and self-disgust came down over his face at the memory, "It was my worst nightmare come to life but I couldn't stop. I was just so …. angry, mad … I don't know … it was pressin' in on me, suffocating me and I just lashed out, didn't care at who."
"What happened next?"
Vin dragged one arm across his face then wiped his hands on his legs. He put one hand on the medicine bag around his neck and clutched it tightly. The two stones it held rubbed together and gave him strength.
"Found myself in one of the tepees standing over a woman and her young 'uns. She was singin' to them <<hush, my children don't you cry ….>> and starin' right at me. She wasn't scared, <<… today is a good day to die …>> didn't even flinch."
<<…a good day to die…>>
The look on his face changed from disgust to wonder and confusion as he remembered the effect the woman's singing had on him. He looked right at Chris, eyes open wide, "and when I heard her voice, everythin' changed. I woke up and I could breathe again. Tried to stop it after that, got shot up ... but most of the Indians were killed."
"The woman?"
Vin remembered the knife whistling passed him to save his sorry hide and the dim figure of the woman in the trees.
"She got away; her and the young'uns."
"So you at least saved her?"
Vin felt suddenly very tired and very old as he nudged his horse into a trot.
"She saved me"
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