Chapter
One
Daddy’s
Little Girl
It is odd the things that women consider important and the things that men
consider the same. So markedly differing are these two opinions, that one can
be forgiven at questioning the whole concept of woman being created from Adam’s
rib when their diversity of thought was such. A hundred years from now, a
writer will consider the contrasting differences so vast that they should be
named after planets as an accurate scale of measurement. Men looked at women as
inferior because their duties kept them out of danger, protected in the hearth,
warm and comfortable while women thought men were the same for more or less the
same reason. It was sexual dimorphism at its most distinct, transcending more
than just physiology but rather mentality.
At no place in Chris Larabee' entire universe was this statement more true than inside the confines of his kitchen listening to the conversation his wife was presently having with his two sons Michael and Kyle. Both were staring at him, pleading with eyes he saw in the mirror every day to be rescued, but there were some dangers even Chris was not prepared to face even for the fruit of his loins; especially if he still intended to keep those loins. Realizing that they would be receiving no help from their father, Michael and Kyle stood before their mother as she ensured that they were presentable for their trip to Sweet Water.
"Ma, we have shoes." Michael spoke up attempting to save himself and his brother. However, his nerve failed him after speaking when he saw his father grimacing in pity.
"Michael," Mary Larabee stared at her eleven year old son. "I am not having this conversation with you again. Now you need shoes, the both of you. I will not have you starting the school year in those things you're wearing and since the Emporium seems to be out, we will go to Sweet Water to get them. Now I am done discussing this subject with both of you so get to the wagon."
"But...." Michael started to say but Mary threw him a look that would have frozen water.
"In...the...wagon...Michael Vin Larabee. NOW."
Michael gulped at the use of his full name, which was usually a good indication that he was nearing the edge of his mother's patience. The instances where his mother's temper got the better of her was rare but those instances were marked in memory and he knew enough not to inspire its wrath.
"I'd take advice, Mikey." Chris said sympathetically.
"Bye pa." Kyle beamed at his father and grabbed Michael's hand. "Come on Mikey, before you get us into any more trouble."
Michael gave his brother a look and Chris had to stifle a smile as Michael was dragged out of the kitchen, grumbling openly at why his parents couldn't have left him an only child.
Once they were gone, Mary let out a sigh of frustration. "I am getting too old for this. It's the same with Billy and I thought experience would make it easier with Mikey and Kyle. Thank God Sarah's a girl."
Chris rose to his feet and slipped his arm around his wife's waist, kissing her lightly on the lips. "Try not to kill them. I know they're a pain in the ass but I'll miss em."
Mary uttered a short laugh, joining her husband in the moment he had used to make her feel better. "I'll try." She replied, appearing a good deal happier than she had a second ago. "Are you going to be alright?" She asked in a more serious tone.
"I don't see why not." Chris shrugged, aware that she did not quite trust him alone with their youngest. It had nothing to do with his being untrustworthy or anything as uncharitable as being unreliable but women didn't trust men to well with small children, especially one who was not far from infancy. "Its gonna be a quiet day with the others out of town or at the ranch, so I can stay at home and watch her."
"She may be three years old but she can be a handful Chris," Mary said with a frown, uncomfortable at the fact that Chris seemed to think that little girls could not possibly get into the same kind of trouble as little boys.
"Hey, I handled six of the orneriest men in the Territory for years, I think I can handle this." Chris replied confidently and then noted his wife had a bemused expression, which indicated she did not believe him for a minute.
"Right, just don't use her as a stake when you're playing cards with Ezra." Mary answered sweetly, reminding him pointedly of what happened the last time he had babysat for his daughter and what a moment of inappropriate inebriation with some of his companions who kept him company while doing it had led to.
"It wasn't like I lost her or anything." Chris retorted and Mary shook her head in resignation.
"MA!" Kyle's voice screamed through the kitchen from the wagon outside. "MIKEY'S MAKING FACES AT ME!"
Mary took a deep breath and met Chris' gaze once more. "I don't have to kill them, I can just leave them in the woods."
Chris decided to rescue his wife before she actually did as she threatened and went to the doorway and called out to the two boys in the wagon. "Knock it off you two." There was just enough edge in his voice to ensure that it was a warning that would not be issued twice. Although the boys might protest if it was their mother making the threat, when it was their father, it was not to be taken lightly. Both of the Larabee boys scowled at each other before nodding obediently at Chris.
"They’re all yours." Chris retreated into the kitchen to see Mary fixing her bonnet in place.
"And I’ll get you for it." She retorted with a look of mock anger as she swept past him. "Have a good day," she paused at the doorway long enough to add. "I have lunch on the stove. All you have to do is warm it up and we should be home for dinner if I don’t decide to leave them on the side of the road first."
"Bye." Chris chuckled as his wife left the house and thank whatever he believed in that it was she who was undertaking the ordeal because if it were him, he would have taken them to Sweet Water trussed up like calves and gagged.
**********
Top Hat Bob had been sitting in jail for a long time.
Ever since he was convicted of murdering a number of citizens in the community of Four Corners as well as attempting to repeat the offence on an old woman named Nettie Wells, as a matter of fact. Time had ceased to have any meaning for him in the long years of his imprisonment. It was a hellish thing to be imprisoned and kept out of the light, forced to endure indignities that no man had any business enduring, to see weaker men perish because the agony of their cage became more than they could bear. Bob lived in that hell for almost fourteen years, eating food not good enough for grubs to feed upon, though sometimes they tried for the number of times he had extracted their fat, wriggling bodies from his meals. He had forgotten what fresh air on his skin felt like, becoming forced to endure dank, fetid stench that was prevalent in the prison.
He languished on his hell, wondering each morning he awoke, why he was still alive and cursing the man whom had ensured he would be perfectly healthy in order to suffer his prison term. The man who had been responsible for all the torment he had endured since stepping into this place where he was no longer a human but rather a number on some warder’s book. It came as a revelation to him, though late in the day that his hate for the man kept him alive, kept him breathing because the revenge he envisioned inflicting on his enemy was too powerful to forget. It allowed him to survive his incarceration, let its poison salt his veins and make him hard inside so that anything they did to him would not compare to what he would do to the man who had put him here.
The man named Chris Larabee.
It was Larabee who had trapped him in hell for fourteen long years. The number of wrongs the man had committed against him had begun early in Bob’s life when Larabee had been the cause of his lost eye. Larabee had stolen the victory that should have been his during a wood splitting contest and later on, when Bob tried to redeem himself by taking it out of the man’s hide, Larabee had instead taken his eye. For a long time Bob searched for him but with the war and its eventual end, people were hard to track. Bob lost track of the golden haired youth that was seared into his memory whenever he looked into a mirror and saw that ugly patch where an eye should have been. Then out of nowhere, years after the war had ended; Larabee appeared to him almost magically.
The town of Four Corners was a little nothing in the backwater of the Territory, however with the iron horse that was building its tracks across the nation, the town suddenly became a great deal more. With the coming of the railroad, what was land no one could be paid to tame had suddenly become prime real estate. His employer, a rancher named Guy Royal knew this all too well. Royal immediately embarked upon a quest to acquire all the land that the railroad would eventually need, employing any method necessary to meet that end. Rightful owners were either bought of intimated into leaving and Royal looked set to inherit what would be a fortune in land when it came time for the railroad to make a fortune.
It was inevitable that someone would not be swayed by easy money or threats and to Royal’s surprise, the last holdout had been a feisty widow named Nettie Wells who occupied the small parcel of land with her young niece. It was only after the old lady had sought the assistance of the town’s seven peacekeepers, was Bob brought into the whole affair. What inspired his interest the most was not simply the handsome amount that Royal was paying his hired guns, but the leader this seven lawmen was none other than Chris Larabee. Bob and his men had ridden to Four Corners immediately, with Bob imagining delightful thoughts of inflicting his vengeance upon his hated enemy finally. However, when he found himself face to face with Larabee, Bob had to admit the memory of the young stripling remembered was nothing like the man he faced.
Dressed almost entirely in black, Larabee’s supreme control over the six men beside him was without question and there was an edge to his eyes that made Bob pause a little, though not very much. He had remembered wondering what on Earth could have happened to the man in all those years to change that cocky youth into something so fearsome. However, if Larabee’s appearance was not surprise enough, the man had the audacity to not even remember who he was! Bob had barely been able to conceal his rage as Larabee looked at him with no comprehension of why Bob hated him so, not to mention have any idea of who he was. The indignity of that had driven Bob away because he refused to kill Larabee until the man remembered how he had wronged him.
In the end however, it mattered little whether or not Larabee remembered him because with his six friend, the gunslinger/ peacekeeper managed to beat Bob and his men by protecting the widow and ensuring Guy Royal threatened her no more. Bob who had killed for Royal found himself at Larabee’s mercy and knew that for the deaths he had caused, he would either hang or be locked up in a prison forever. He preferred the former and had begged Larabee to be killed. He had actually begged for his life to end but Larabee wouldn’t even allow him that. So Bob had stood trial and because the judge saw a conspiracy even though Royal could not be implicated, he had commuted the sentence of death to imprisonment, condemning Top Hat Bob to nothing less than hell for the next fourteen years.
Fourteen years of futile belief that he would ever be freed to carry out his revenge, fourteen years of cursing Larabee’s name each morning he woke up and still found himself in the same wretched place. He was sentenced to a lifetime and knew that he would have to die before they ever let him see the outside world again. He had almost resided himself to that fact when a new governor seeking to show his compassionate site the voters who had just elected him, signed the release of several older prisoners, believing them to be too worn and beaten to be any further threat to society. Among the list of names handed to the warden of the prison was Bob’s very own and once again, another miracle saw him in the wide, open spaces he had craved for so long.
He was not exactly an old man but he was not young either and Bob had still enough life in him to come to one conclusion; he still wanted revenge. He did not know whether or not Chris Larabee still lived but if he did, Top Hat Bob would find him and make certain that Larabee never forgot his name again.
*********
It was inherently clear to him from the very first that there was a vast difference between raising a daughter instead of a son. Before Sarah had come along, Chris had already experienced being a father to a boy four times already. While the first had ended his life far sooner than he should have much to his father’s everlasting sorrow, the other three had been relatively easy to discern once he got to know them. Billy, Chris supposed had been the easiest, because Billy had come ready made and had needed a male presence in his life left void by the death of Stephen Travis. Michael was harder to understand.
Even as child, Michael had this need to do for himself, to prove to everyone and especially to his father Chris had realised following that debacle with the Young brothers, that he could be a Larabee. It was as if for Michael, being his son was some great trial the boy had to be accomplish in order to be proven worthy. It would have been a complete mystery to Chris why Michael was this way if it were not for the memory of his own youth, being the son of General Christopher Marcus Larabee. When Chris thought of it in those terms, he realised that Michael was doing everything Chris used to as a boy to live up to the expectations he believed the General demanded of him, even though later on he would learnt that was never true.
Kyle was easy to understand because even though their physical similarities were the same, he was all Mary inside. Despite being no more than seven, Kyle was Mary’s son in every way that mattered. He had her quiet strength, her determination and ability to persevere when everything around her went to pieces. While Michael was hot headed and prone to react, Kyle was thoughtful and considered the ramifications of his actions not only for himself but those around him. And in that same way that Chris had always felt it necessary to protect Mary, Michael would often fight Kyle’s battles even when the young boy often did not need them fighting.
Sarah however was a complete mystery.
She was only three so she had no real personality to speak of; just a series of eccentricities with the potential for persona. He knew that she liked the yellow dress with the big bow on the back and that she did not like mashed carrot, having been splattered by it during the several occasions when he had braved feeding it to her. He knew she had a habit of sitting on the bed and watching him sleep because there had been more than one occasion when he had woke up to find her simply staring at him with that little smile on her face. He'd asked her about it once and the answer he received was just what he would expect from a three year old, lacking any sense to an adult.
He did not know how long it was until after Mary had gone that he felt this insistent tug at his lower part of his sleeve and looked down to see a small cherubic face crowned in long flaxen colored hair staring up at him.
"Hey there darlin'," Chris smiled at her.
"Hi daddy." She said in that singsong voice that melted his heart in his chest like butter.
"Hungry?" He asked as she climbed into the chair next to him, quite an effort since she was doing it with one hand while the other was clutching her doll. Once she sat down and faced him again, she responded with a little nod, strands of blond hair bouncing of her slight shoulders as she did so.
"Okay," Chris rose to his feet and started towards the pantry. "What would you like?"
A shrug of her shoulders indicated he would have to take a guess. "Up to me huh?" Chris responded and opted for the girl's favorite lemon butter on bread. After removing the appropriate ingredients from the pantry, Chris went through the process of making the meal, his daughter watching in fascination at everything he was doing.
"Crust." She pointed to the edge of the bread and shook her head while producing a little pout showing her disapproval.
"No crust?" Chris raised a brow. "Don't tell me you picked that up from your Uncle Vin."
She smiled and nodded again.
"Great," Chris grumbled as he began removing the crust from the sandwich he had been making. "As if teaching Kyle to spit wasn't bad enough."
When the two men were travelling together, Chris could not remember how many times he had to suppress the urge to shoot the tracker whenever the man started displaying that habit whenever they were seated around a campfire. Neither was he impressed that his daughter had picked up that charming little trait. With a smile, Chris entertained the delicious idea of teaching Sam how to chew tobacco.
"Milk daddy." She reminded when he had presented her with his creation.
"Coming right up." He grinned as he watched a moment as her small hands picked up the slices of bread, which seemed almost oversized in comparison to her tiny fingers and began eating. Chris poured her a cup of milk from the jar of the liquid Mary had on stock and sat down next to her when he had done his fatherly duty to feed his child.
"Well it looks like its you and me today, Sarah." Chris responded
as she ate. In truth, he had nothing planned but did not relish spending the
entire day indoors either. He considered taking a ride out to the ranch but
then abandoned the idea because Mary had taken the wagon and he did not relish
having to make the trip on his horse. At Sarah’s age, she was still too young
to sit securely in the saddle with him and if anything happened to her because
of his carelessness, Chris would never forgive himself. The saloon was out of
the question because Mary would skin him alive if he took her daughter into
such an improper place. He supposed he could sit a spell outside the jailhouse
and read a book. That way at least Sarah could be in the sunshine and he could
still keep an eye on her. Mary had picked him up a copy of the latest Jules
Verne and he could think of worse things than spending a lazy afternoon
indulging in the fantastic of which he had been fortunate enough to experience a
number of times during his own life.
After Sarah had finished her meal, he helped her to get dressed an undertaking
he had mistakenly believed would be an easy task to accomplish but Sarah had
different ideas of her own. She had her heart set on wearing her yellow dress,
which unfortunately was sitting at the bottom of a laundry hamper Mary had yet
to deal with. After an exhausting effort to convince her that she could not
wear that particular dress, Sarah had conceded to making a new selection. Chris
wondered whether it was harder trying to change her mind or keep from losing
his temper because he knew that if he yelled, it would just provoke a bout of
crying he could not even stand when it came from Mary.
Upon leaving the house, Chris found himself setting his small daughter on his shoulders, an action she thoroughly enjoyed because she would spread out of her arms and starting crying out to her daddy that she was flying. It always made Mary nervous when he carried Sarah this way but Chris would never refuse Sarah’s request because it gave him the notion that his little girl would be quite the daredevil when she grew up. Considering her parentage, Chris would be surprised if Sarah were not any other way. Besides, with a house full of brothers, Chris was certain that when the time came she would hold her own. He did not know why he felt this way but a premonition he could not explain made him believe it with all his heart.
The streets of Four Corners was busy this morning, with people moving back and forth down the boardwalks, entering and departing the shops at a brisk pace. There were twice as many businesses on the main street of the town and it pulsed with life, a far cry from the days when he had first arrived, where it had been a dusty, lawless place. So much had changed for him since that parched, windy day he had blew into town like an ill wind, looking for a drink, unaware that he had stumbled into the beginnings of a new life. He still remained very much the same man, dark, fearsome and commanding but there were new facets to him now, most of which was embodied by the golden haired little girl telling her daddy she was a bird. She most of all, made sure that no one would ever call him the bad element again. Not that he minded of course. At his age, it just caused more trouble than it was worth. Besides, these days Chris Larabee was happier being known as a family man rather than the past sobriquet o f his wilder days.
He was almost to the jailhouse when he saw Casey Dunne and her own little girl, Annette. Annette was a pretty little think with long dark hair and a smile that was very much JD’s. Casey did not appear well; she was coughing loudly with one hand covering her mouth as the other held on to Annette. Annette’s expression seemed to convey the concern that Chris was feeling when he saw the violence of the hacking and made Chris wonder if Casey was suffering an ailment that ought to have her home in bed, instead of attempting to carry out chores she appeared unfit to do.
"Hey there Casey, Annette," Chris greeted tipping his hat lightly in the direction of the Dunne women.
"Hello Chris," Casey smiled nervously as she straightened up and shoved the handkerchief she had been using back into the pocket hidden with the folds of her long skirt.
"That’s a nasty cough. You alright?" He asked with real concern and made note to mention it to JD at a later time. Women could be stubbornly evasive when it came to their health.
"Yes I’m fine Chris," she responded wearily "I think I’m just coming down with something."
He could believe it. Even now, he could see the hollowness in her cheeks and the circles under her eyes as if she had not been sleeping well either. "You ought to get some rest." He responded and meant it.
"I will." Casey smiled nervously and Chris who had a nose for trouble better than any man alive suddenly sensed that there was more to this than she let on. It made him doubly determined that he ought to speak to JD as soon as possible, although he would have to word things so that it did not look like he was prying, perhaps just a word in JD’s ear to make the man pay attention. JD was no longer than wet behind the ears kid he had been when he first arrived in Four Corners, he was a man now and not to mention Sheriff. Chris tried to imagine what it was like for someone to tell him how to conduct his business with his family and knew that he had to be subtle because he would not like it any more than JD would.
"So you’re babysitting today." She spoke up in an effort to change the subject he was sure and noticing how uncomfortable she was about it, Chris decided not to the press the issue.
"Yeah," Chris nodded. "Mary took the boys into Sweet Water to get some shoes. They’re just loving that."
"I’m sure," Casey frowned, "I had just as fun time with Adam as Mary is probably having with Mikey and Kyle."
Recalling how stormy Mary’s temperament had been prior to her departure, he could not disagree with that statement on any level. Chris and Casey engaged in small talk for a few more minutes but he could see she was eager to get underway, not to mention both children had started to flinch impatiently. Chris had a feeling that Casey was trying to avoid more questions about her obviously less than good health and felt a sliver of worry at the full implications of her non-disclosure
He hoped for JD’s sake, it was nothing to worry about but his sixth sense told him that they all should start being concerned.
*********
As anticipated, upon arriving at the jailhouse, Chris found the place empty. JD had made mention of going into Eagle Bend to deliver some prisoners, which accounted for the cells being just as devoid of occupants as the rest of the place. Although JD had been the town’s sheriff for quite some time now, it still surprised Chris how the seven of them always seemed to come together to face major threats to the town. He supposed that aspect of their friendship would never really change although most of the day to day occurrences in town was taken care of easily by JD. He was their lighthouse keeper so to speak and Chris could not help feeling proud that he had in some part contributed to the man JD Dunne had become. Wishing to disturb nothing in the man’s office, Chris found himself a comfortable spot on the front walk of the jailhouse and sat down to read his book. Sarah had an assortment of toys and was just as comfortable on the floor next to him, playing with them.
Despite Four Corners appearance of a hive of bustling activity, the lazy heat of the day was slowing down the pace and people were drifting indoors, while others were disappearing inside saloons. Even the words on the book before him seemed to blur and before he knew it, he had trouble keeping his eyes open. Easing back into the chair and allowing the book to fall forward on his chest, Chris to did not see the harm in closing his eyes for just a second. In the background, he could hear the faint whisper of Sarah’s voice as she spoke to her doll Jemmy, for reasons that only made sense to a child, and the chatter of the people around him.
Just for a second he thought, as he exhaled a deep breath and felt the drowsiness tug at his eyes lids. A second wouldn’t hurt, just a second…
********
He woke up a short time later almost with a start and realised almost instantly that he could no longer hear Sarah.
Sitting up abruptly, Chris scoured the length of the front walk and saw no sign of his child. Even her doll Jemmy was missing. A surge of panic overtook him at that instant as he chided himself ferociously at how he could have fallen a sleep while left in charge of a three year old. Fully alert now, his penetrating green eyes swept over the length of the street before him and saw no sign of Sarah. The sight of horses riding hard past him made his heart skip a beat before he told himself to calm down and not let his imagination get away with him. If Sarah had run out into the street, the commotion such a tragedy had caused would have woke him long before this. He opened the door to the jailhouse and made certain she was not there when the sweep of the streets produced no trace of where Sarah had been taken.
Inside the jailhouse was no sign of the golden haired little girl and Chris was starting to become more than alarmed. Nothing could make him panic more than a threat to his children and Sarah, she was barely out of her infancy. How could he be so damned irresponsible? He should have never have left the house! All these recriminations followed him when Chris left the jailhouse and strode purposefully towards home, hoping against hope that perhaps Sarah had wondered off and someone coming across her might have returned her there. That was the advantage of living in a small town where everyone was known to one another.
Bursting through the back door of his house, Chris immediately called out. "Sarah!"
He was hoping against hope that that little girl would announce herself in one of her single word responses but was only greeted with silence following his initial call. He went through the entire house hoping that she was there but came away from his search a few minutes later with the same disappointing results as when he had searched the streets. For a moment, Chris was trapped between not knowing what to do and tearing Four Corners apart in his continued search. Dark thoughts began to invade his consciousness on whether or not the reason for Sarah’s disappearance had some sinister elements linked to it. He swallowed thickly, assailed by thoughts of Adam and knew that it was not wise to go down that road. He needed to be clear about this.
Chris was pondering this possibility when he became aware of someone twisting the doorknob of his kitchen door. There was an instant of pure horror, when he thought it might be Mary returning home early from her shopping trip to Sweet Water and how he was going to explain to her that he had lost their daughter. However, when the door swung open it was not Mary or in fact anyone he knew that was making their way stealthily into his house but rather a stranger who made his entrance led by a gun. The man was big and ugly, with a scar running up one side of his face and had the look of a hired gun well past his prime.
Their eyes met and in a split second of awkwardness realized that they were enemies.
Chris was unarmed as the intruder to his house discerned quickly and immediately went for his guns upon that realization. The former gunslinger had barely enough time to throw himself into the adjoining room, before bullets tore through the space he had occupied in the corridor. Chris rolled onto the hard floor of the parlor and immediately went for the gun holster that was hanging high on a hook on the wall. While Michael was old enough to know better, both Mary and Chris had come to the unanimous decision that wherever they were to be stored would be well out of reach of either Kyle or Sarah. Kyle was more the danger now because he was an inquisitive sort and Chris knew too many horror stories of children who had learnt the hard way what weapons could do to flesh. He snatched the worn and leather gun belt off the hook just before the gunmen in his house fired again. This time Chris was forced to take refuge behind to old divan left to Mary by her grandmother.
As his assailant open fire on the antique piece of furniture, Chris swore in anger seeing the Edwardian antique splintered by numerous bullets. Its innards exploded out of freshly made holes in the fabric, sending cotton in all directions. Hastily, Chris slipped fastened his gun belt into place and listened closely as there was a sudden pause in the shooting. He counted at least six bullets fired, which meant this lapse was due to the shooter’s need to reload. Chris took the opportunity to do so himself and for a few seconds, an unspoken race took place between the two men as their fingers moved furiously to fill the chamber of their guns first.
Chris was a little faster, having had the advantage of beginning the process almost as soon as he was forced behind the sofa. The years had not dulled his edge and when Chris emerged to make a return attack, he was determined not to kill his attacker but rather wound him. It was too much of a coincidence that this man should emerge in the same hour as his discovery that Sarah was missing. Even as the thought surfaced inside him, Chris felt his stomach knotting in anger at the callousness of men who would take small children as hostages to use as blackmail against terrified parents. The intruder was just snapping the chamber of his gun into place when Chris stood and fired. One bullet caught the man in the shoulder, the other in the foot. Both were more than enough to bring him down.
He uttered a heavy cry and fell down on the floor; the gun still clutched in his hand. Chris hurried forward; not about to allow the man a chance to use the weapon again no matter how much pain the man appeared to be in. In his experience, it was such assumptions that could cost a man his life and Chris was too weathered by a lifetime of danger to forget that. Chris approached the man cautiously; the peacemaker aimed directly at his chest. Chris wanted him to see that the previous shots fired had struck him exactly where it was intended, that his survival was no random attribute of chance but a cold deliberate act to show him that for the moment Chris needed him alive. The instant he ceased to become valuable would se him dead.
"Let it go." Chris ordered. "I’ll kill you before you even have the chance to pull the trigger."
The man deliberated that point for a moment, his face a grimace of pain as the flow of blood from his wounds seeped into the wood, staining it with crimson that was next to impossible to remove. After a tense minute where Chris was uncertain whether or not he would be actually stupid enough to shoot, the man released the Remington revolver, allowing it to strike the floor with a dull thud. He looked up at Chris with hate filled eyes and for an instant of time, neither man spoke. The former mostly because he was the loser in this gun battle when he ought to have been the victor and the latter who was attempting to remember if the face before him had any significance that he seemed unable to discern at the moment. Finally it was Chris who spoke first.
"Where the hell is my daughter?" Chris asked, his voice a harsh whisper.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about." The man retorted, his eyes did not betray him and his voice was a cold sneer.
"Where is she?" Chris growled and kicked hard enough to connect with the man’s jaw and sent him rolling onto his stomach. He groaned in pain and began to pant at the agony of it as Chris took a step forward and put down his boot on his wounded shoulder, determined to get an answer, even if it was through his screams. "I ain’t gonna ask again, where is she?"
"I don’t know!" The man finally grunted. "It wasn’t part of the plan to take the girl!"
"What plan?" Chris demanded further.
"I ain’t staying nothing!" The man glowered, a brief surge of defiance makings its appearance. Chris slammed his boot down onto the same wounded shoulder, drawing another sharp cry of pain.
"I ain't asking again." Chris said pulling back the hammer of his gun. The action made a loud click, which seemed to capture his would be killer's attention far more potently than anything else he had done so far. "What about the plan?"
The man swallowed thickly, comprehending by the glint in Chris' eye that he was not bluffing. The gun in his hand spoke volumes about what he was prepared to do in order to regain his child and though the would be killer had no wish to incur the wrath of his leader, was ill prepared to die on this floor right this minute either. "It was Top Hat Bob's plan."
"Bob's dead." Chris growled but even as he said it the denial was fading fast from his mind. It was possible. When he had put Top Hat Bob in front of Orin Travis for judgement, the old adversary had not been sentenced to hang but rather forced to spend the rest of his life in prison. Chris recalled how Bob had begged to be killed to be spared that hell. Chris had refused, having no wish to cause any more bloodshed then there had already been in the issue of Guy Royal and his collecting activities who had been Bob's employer at the time. Yes, there was every possibility that Bob could not only be alive but be harboring a deep seeded vengeance spawned for the last fourteen years languishing in a prison that Chris had sent him to.
And this was the man who had his little girl.
"Where is he?" Chris glared at the man again. This time is tone was decidedly different from that anxious father. This was voice that oozed danger in every word, a voice that could very well be the last thing one heard before dying. It was a voice that needed not need to repeat himself.
"I don't know," the man answered without hesitation. "I was supposed to torch the house since you and the little was out. I didn't know nothing about kidnapping the kid, I swear!"
"You were going to burn my house?" Chris glared at him. He thought of how his home had been burnt down once before and what he had lost as when the ashes had cooled. The consequences had changed him in ways that could never be truly understood and to hear that this pathetic animal had attempted to do it again, to the home he shared with Mary and their children paralyzed him with rage. He was almost ready to kill the man for the audacity of that threat but instead dragged him man to his feet. This was no easy feat considering his attacker had a bullet in his ankle and cried out in agony as he was forced to put weight on the injured limbs.
"I ought to kill you," Chris retorted, jamming the gun into the man's side as Chris used one of his hands to keep him on his feet. "But I want to know where Bob is right now."
"We were supposed to meet outside of town at Baker's past." The man responded with a groan cutting off his last word. "I was supposed to torch the house and he was supposed to come after you in town!"
"But instead he decided to take my daughter is that it?" Chris demanded, shoving him forward so that the man felt flat on his face with another agonized cry of pain.
"I don't know!" His victim almost sobbed from the pain. "I guess so! He hates you pretty bad Larabee! He wanted to kill you!"
"Yeah, he's been wanting that a long time." Chris grumbled and went forward to help the man upright again. He could not waste too much time dealing with this injured man, especially when he had to find Sarah. Chris could not even imagine what his little girl was enduring in the hands of a vicious killer like so called 'Marshall' Top Hat Bob Spikes who had an infinity for fire. Suddenly, the idea that Sarah might be endure the same fate as Adam almost stopped Chris' chest in his heart from the overwhelming fear running through him.
God help him, he had to stop it. He just had to. He could not endure losing another child to the flame. Not again.
********
With Nathan at the Indian reservation providing medical services to the small community and Alex still at home nursing newborn baby Daniel, Chris had little choice but to tend to his prisoner in the jailhouse with only the most rudimentary of skills. He made sure the man did not bleed to death and stopped victimizing him, which was about as much gentle handling he was going to receive from Chris Larabee. Considering what he had been intending to do to the Larabee home, Chris felt he ought to consider himself lucky that Chris had not killed him for the intention alone. However, JD would not have taken too kindly to that and Chris supposed he was not the same man who used to kill indiscriminately in the years ago. He was a husband and a father and his consideration for his family made him pause because the consequences of such an act would ultimately harm them and he would risk nothing in the face of that.
Upon leaving the jailhouse after ensuring that his prisoner, whose name he learn was Mackay, Chris made his way back to the house. He needed to get riding after Bob immediately and there was no time to waste. Sensibly, he ought to ride out to the ranch and get Vin and Buck but Chris could not imagine leaving Sarah to languish in Bob's clutches for the time it would take for him to accomplish that. Anything could happen during that time and usually would unless he was there to stop it. His fears for Sarah's life was clouding his judgement, he knew that. However, she was his daughter and he could not imagine being any other way when it came to her safety.
Chris returned to the house long enough to get extra ammo for his guns and his rifle. He would ride out to Baker Pass and so help him if they have harmed one hair on Sarah's head, he would kill the lot of them. He thought of leaving Mary a note, to tell her what had happened and could not bring himself to put pen to paper and tell his wife how he had lost Sarah, as it was he could not even imagine the lapse that had allowed such a thing to happen. Chris made his way to the livery and started riding towards Baker's Pass, telling no one of his departure. He thought of how afraid Sarah must be and felt his heart ache with guilt at his baby girl in the hands of someone like Bob Spikes made him dig his heels harder into his horse as he thundered harder towards Bakers Pass.
He did not know how long he had actually gotten before the panic that had captured his thoughts began to ease a little and he considered his actions a little more closely as the approach to the Pass loomed nearer and nearer. If he rode in there with guns blazing, it was likely he would get himself killed or worse yet, Sarah. He had to think and use the wit that had allowed him to survive the vengeance of countless enemies in the past. He had to be smarter than Top Hat Bob if he was going to get his daughter. Actually, now that he pondered the thought a little further, he had to confess that Bob must have been a fool to kidnap his daughter in broad daylight while sending some thug to burn down the Larabee home. Then again, Bob was never very crafty to begin with. He was used to using his guns and his fists to speak for him and fortunately, neither were very articulate. It was one of the reasons Chris did not even bother to kill the man during their last encounter.
It was early afternoon when Chris arrived at Baker's Pass. He had ridden hard to get there as soon as possible but as he approached the area where Bob was supposed to be, Chris slowed down his pace in order to keep his arrival a secret for the time being. In broad daylight, the danger of discovery was great and Chris would risk nothing getting in the way of his reaching Sarah, not even his own impatience. He climbed of his horse and continued the rest of the journey to the small ravine that Mackay had claimed was Bob's hiding place. He moved stealthily forward, ensuring that he was not heard as he closed in on his prey. After nearly fourteen years having a best friend who was the best tracker in the Territory, Chris knew quite a bit about sneak approaches.
It was not long before he heard voices speaking and Chris kept his head low behind the ridge of rocks that allowed him to approach unseen. There were at least three of them, he discerned as he continued to listen for a while, hoping that he would have some idea of the situation before he was forced to act. He could not hear Sarah but while that could be construed as a good thing, it also sent his imagination into dark and sinister places, conjuring explanations as to why she could not be heard speaking and that renewed the cold fear he felt at harm coming upon her.
"I told you it was a bad idea." Someone who was younger and did not sound like grizzled Top Hat Bob declared. Of course Chris could not be sure because it had been years since he had even spoken to the man and even then, Chris had not spent enough time with him to be certain about such things.
"A good ol' fire is just that the thing Larabee needs." Someone growled in response. It was a sneering voice full of anger, weariness and age. Chris did not have to look to know that this was Top Hat Bob. The comment about the fire being the thing he needed incensed Chris to no end but he remained silent because he wanted to know if Sarah was alive and well and continued to listen.
"I heard how his wife and kid got burned alive so I want him to be thinking about that before I come after that pretty little wife of his." Bob added.
Chris began to wonder just how long Bob had been watching him and felt somewhat shocked that he had managed to let it happen without being the wiser. A few years ago, something like this would never have happened. Had his sixth sense deteriorated to such a point that he now endangered his family? It was the same lapse that had allowed him to fall asleep while watching his daughter, he told himself scathingly. He had lost his edge! Marriage and children had made him soft. How could he have let that happened? How could he let his guard down after what had happened to Sarah and Adam?
"Come on Bob," the third man spoke up. "Maybe we ought to think about this. You're free for the first time in fourteen years. You know we friends and I'd do anything for you but if you get caught, they'll hang you."
"A hanging was what I wanted!" Bob snarled loudly and a sharp clang of metal followed the sound of liquid splashing against the ground. Chris peered over the edge of his hiding place and saw the contents of a metal cup draining into the soil near the man who had made the offending remark. The years had not been kind to Top Hat Bob, who no longer wore the hat but still had the eye path. His face was like worn leather saddle bags and his face contorted into a permanent scowl.
"All he had to do was hang me!" Bob continued his tirade. "But no, he had to hand me to that Judge who locked me up in that prison! I would have rather died than go there! I got stuck in that hell for 14 years while Larabee was out in the world, making babies with that wife of his. Well, I'm gonna show him what hell is! I'm gonna put him in the cell and see how he likes it."
"Well Mackay ain't back!" The first speaker repeated himself. He appeared just as worn and haggard as Bob and it took Chris a few seconds to realise that these were the men that had ridden with Bob almost fourteen years ago. Had Bob sought out all the members of his gang from so long ago in order to exact this belated vengeance upon him? "Larabee ain't no fool Bob, Mackay's slow and a drunk. He's been living inside a bottle for the last couple of years. I don't know why you think he could do something like this."
"You want to leave is that it Dwayne?" Bob stood up and went to the younger man with the balding head and the week's growth on his face. "You want to tuck tail and run back to your dirt farm?"
"It ain't no dirt farm," Dwayne said defiantly. "It's my land and it's been awful good to me the last 14 years."
"Sure it has." Bob crossed the space between them and downed the man with a swift blow to the jaw. Dwayne tumbled against the small outcrop of rock in their camp, his cheek impacting hard against the stone. Chris saw him cry out in pain following a wet crunch of sound. Blood spurted jerkily from his mouth as he reeled in pain.
"The only reason you got that dirt farm is because of the money you got working for me! You cleared out when Larabee and his men got your hands on me didn't ya Dwayne, run off like some yellow bellied coward and left me to rot!"
Chris quickly came to the conclusion that Bob was not only getting too old for this and having serious morale problems with his men but Bob did not sound entirely in his right mind. Suddenly Chris realised that he may never have a better opportunity to get the drop on these men than at the present moment. Besides, he was having a tough time restraining himself when he considered that his little girl might be in the power of a man whose mind was as unhinged as Bob's. He had recalled how Billy had been effected when Ella Gaines had kidnapped him and no way was Chris going to allow Sarah to suffer the same terror.
Standing up, he was barely noticed because Bob was still shouting at Dwayne. The third man in the group, whose name had yet to surface, was holding him back, trying to keep him off Dwayne who was still on the ground, holding his face as blood oozed out of his mouth. "I thought I was gonna be facing a real dangerous band of outlaws, not a bunch of old men squawking like hens."
"Larabee!" Bob swung around before anyone else did, recognizing instantly the voice of his hated enemy.
"I told you Mackay was gonna foul it up!" Dwayne managed to say, mildly comforted in his pain by this vindication.
"If you meant the idiot who tried to burn down my house, you were right." Chris glared at the three men, his peacemaker drawn and ready to fire the first one who went for his gun. Fortunately, they had been so busy bickering that he had well and truly caught them unawares and wondered to himself how men so incompetent could manage the small feat of stealing his daughter from under his nose without anyone being the wiser.
"There's three of us Larabee," Bob hissed, not about to give up just yet. "One of you. You think you can get us all before we kill you?"
"Probably not but you're gonna be the first one to die," Chris said with complete confidence of that fact and proved it when he aimed the gun straight at Bob's chest. The others made no move to stop him because as much time had passed since their last encounter, Chris was still in better shape than any of the men present, not to mention his shooting reflexes were just as sharp as they had ever been. He was more than capable of killing Bob and anyone else who tried to stop him. "Personally I don't give a rat's ass what you do Bob, I just want my daughter."
Bob stared at him sharply and for a moment silence ensued. Chris deduced quickly that the kidnapping of Sarah Larabee came as a complete surprise to both of Bob's companions and they looked at each other with dumbfounded expressions. It was Dwayne who spoke first although through a mouthful of broken teeth, he did not make any real sense at first. Chris thought he might offer something tangible to save himself because Bob did not look ready to offer Chris any information. Chris had more or less expected Bob to withhold the information out of sheer spite and felt his fears for his obviously absent child deepen. Where was she if Bob did not have her here? What had the bastard done to his daughter?
"WHERE IS SHE?" Chris fairly shouted, impatient at the lack of any answer.
"Bob you didn't say nothing about hurting no little girl!" Dwayne managed to say
"SHUT UP!" Bob barked at Dwayne.
"Mister we don't know nothing about a little girl." The third man pleaded Chris, perfectly aware at how unhinged a father worried about his child could become.
"Orville, just cause you don't know nothing, doesn't mean I ain't got her." Bob retorted, glaring triumphantly at Chris as he said those words.
"Bob I ain't crazy enough to die for you!" The man named Orville bit back. "I was crazy to follow you out here in the first place!" He faced Chris again and said quickly. "Mister, he ain't got your little girl. He's been with us all the time, he didn't have time to go into town to get her. We sent Mackay out this morning but that was only to burn you house! We was never in town today!"
"You traitorous yellow bellied scum!" Bob exploded again, almost forgetting about the fact that Chris had a gun on him and made a step towards Orville, preparing to wrap his hands around the man's throat when Chris swung his arm and brought the gun across Bob's face, halting the former Marshall in his tracks. The squelch of bone followed a grunt of pain from the man as he fell backwards clumsily and landed on his rump with a heavy thud against the dirt.
"I ain't gonna ask again!" Chris declared, refusing to believe these men had nothing to do with Sarah's disappearance. It was a lie. It had to be! The alternative was an even more horrifying possibility then Bob having her in his clutches and that was the possibility of having no idea where she was at all.
"Its true Mister!" Dwayne stuttered. "We ain't got her."
Chris stared at both men for a long moment, his mind fighting the disbelief and his natural parental fears to see the situation in its true light. There was no denying that Bob could simply breeze into town and take his child from him in broad daylight with no one seeing a thing was impossible. It had been a busy day and people were moving back and forth down the street. People in Four Corners had seen enough bad elements in their time, himself included to be able to miss noticing someone like Top Hat Bob in their midst. The two men who made up Bob's entourage may have been hired guns once more but 14 years had changed them. Orville's hands were hard and worn, the kind of wear and tear that one sees in hands accustomed to working the lands for a living. The same went for Dwayne who most likely did have a dirt farm somewhere out there in the Territory. However, what convinced Chris more than anything else was not what they wore or said in their defense but the look in their eyes.
He saw fear.
They were afraid. In understanding that, he understood everything. They were too afraid to be lying to him. At this moment, both had realised that this attempt to recapture their youth by following Bob on his bid for vengeance was most likely to get them kill then revisit them with any feelings of former glory, that is if they ever had any to begin with. No, they did not have Sarah and he was wasting time with them because she was out there somewhere and he had no idea where to even begin looking. He had wasted enough time on Top Hat Bob, an enemy who had been more of an inconvenience more than anything else. Besides, looking down at this old man, full of anger and regret, he was more to be pitied than he was to be killed. Still Chris was taking no chances of Bob misunderstanding him.
"Bob," Chris looked down at the man, staring at him in anger, wanting nothing but to kill. "I'm sorry."
Top Hat Bob's eyes widened in shock but said nothing.
Chris did not wait for a response and chose to continue. "I'm sorry about your eye and I'm sorry I didn't hang your carcass to dry fourteen years ago but come near me and my family again and I swear you I won't kill you. I'll make sure you'll end up in that prison again and I'll see to it that you rot before you ever see daylight again. You got past me once, you ain't gonna get the chance. I'll be watching for you Bob and if so much as a hair fall out of place on any of my family's head, I'll come gunning for you and by God, I'll get you."
"You go to hell Larabee," Top Hat Bob hissed angrily but Chris could tell that though his mind wanted vengeance, his body was deteriorating fast. The way the crows knew a man was going to die soon, Chris could tell that Top Hat Bob was not long for this world.
If Chris did not find Sarah alive, he would already be there.
*************
Chris returned to Four Corners after ensuring that Top Hat Bob Spikes and his so-called 'gang' were riding into the distance before he turned his back on them and started home himself. Chris had ensured that he relieved all the men of their weapons and as he saw Bob riding into the distance, a pathetic creature who had been twisted into a shadow of a human being in some of misguided need for vengeance, Chris almost felt pity for the man. However, any compassion he might have felt for Bob was erased by when he remembered what Bob had intended to do to him and to Mary. Perhaps it would have been more sensible to kill Bob there and then but now that Chris was aware of him and the danger, there was no way Bob would ever get close enough to him to be a threat again. Besides, he could not waste time with Bob when Sarah was still missing and he had no idea whom could have taken her. Chris rode back to town, dreading the moment when he would have to explain to Mary that she was gone and how he had lost her in the first place.
He told himself as he entered town limits, that there would be no foolishness this time. He should have never attempted the search without the others. Seven minds were better than one and his seemed to be at his best when his closest friends surrounded him. They seemed to bring out the best in him and he really needed to be at his best now if he was going to find Sarah. It was late afternoon when he finally returned to town and if Mary was not home yet, she soon would be. He left his horse at the livery and made his way home, intending to remain there long enough to see Mary before he would seek out the others who would have surely returned to town by now.
"Hey Chris!" Rain Jackson called out as he walked past Nathan's clinic on his way home. When Alex and Vin had moved out to the ranch, Alex had let out the premises to Nathan in order for him not only to have a clinic fit for a real doctor but also the residence above was a perfect home for himself and his family.
"Rain," Chris tipped his hat in her direction even though he felt not at all sociable.
"Where have you been?" Rain demanded. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
"What is it?" Chris looked at her sharply, wondering if things could get any worse after losing Sarah.
"Well I thought you'd want to know where your daughter is." Rain gave him a hard stare that spoke volumes regarding what she thought of his baby sitting abilities.
Chris' eyes widened and he grabbed the slender dark woman by her shoulders and demanded. "You know where Sarah is?"
"Of course I do," Rain stared at back at him in confusion and pulled herself out of reach as she continued to explain. "She's been at the house playing with Rebecca!"
"Playing with Rebecca?" Chris mouthed, unable to believe that he had been twisting himself with knots, had ridden out to kill Top Hat Bob and all this time his daughter was safe and sound, playing with what passed for her best friend at this age? "You took my daughter without telling me?" He almost shouted at her.
"You were asleep!" Rain barked back, full of annoyance now. "Your little girl could have run out into the street and get run over by horses. Do you have any idea how far a three year old can get when you're not looking? I took her with me because it was safer and because I could keep an eye out for her while you snoozed."
"You could have woken me!" Chris declared in exasperation, unable to deny that she was right. Any number of things could have happened to Sarah during his lapse. If anything, the situation he had found himself this afternoon was a perfect example of what could happen if one let down one's guard. Mary had told him that Sarah could be a handful and because she was three and a girl, he had underestimated just how much. Although technically Sarah had done nothing wrong. She was not the one who fell asleep.
"Are you kidding?" She looked at him as if he were mad. "I know not to poke a rattlesnake when it's asleep."
Chris was starting to get a headache but at least he could rest easy knowing Sarah was safe. "Where is she now?"
"Come on," Rain sighed and shook her head as she led him into the clinic and up the stairs into the home above the premises.
Following her into one of the smaller rooms, Chris could feel the aroma of something savory emanating from the kitchen and felt his stomach rumble in reaction. In all this chaos, he had forgone a meal but was glad that it was probably not the case for Sarah. Rain would have seen to it that she got a meal and kept a close eye on her and not fallen asleep. It was going to be a long time before he let himself forget how careless he had been, not only with Sarah's keeping but allowing someone like Top Hat Bob to keep surveillance on his family without Chris being the wiser. It was lapses like this that had resulted in the death of his first wife and his son Adam, Chris would never let down his guard again, no matter how much he had changed. In some things, he had to remain vigilant or pay the price.
"There she is." Rain gestured through the crack of a door and Chris peered through and found himself looking into Rebecca Jackson's room. Colorful pictures covered the wall and toys were strewn on the floor. In the bed, amidst the covers was Sarah, fast asleep next to Rebecca. Chris felt his heart melt at the precious sight of both little girls and suddenly felt all his doubt and anger give way for the sheer gratitude of knowing that his little girl was safe.
"Thank you Rain." He pulled back and stared at the lovely woman who had been his friend almost as long as the six men he rode with. She had been part of the adventure that had bonded them and he was glad that she and Nathan still together. She had loved Nathan enough to let him go even though it was likely he would never come back, Chris respected her greatly for that. "I ain't gonna tell you how scared I was."
Rain raised her hand to his cheek and smiled. "It was my pleasure Chris."
************
Chris had returned home, and put Sarah promptly to bed, having not stirred the entire journey from the Jackson household to her bed, convincing Chris that her day had almost been as full as his minus the former outlaws and gunfire. Chris slumped down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table after pouring himself a stiff drink, since he decided after the day he had just experienced, he surely deserved it. He was just about to raise the glass to his lips when suddenly, he heard the sound of a horse and wagon coming up to the rear of the house. Instinctively, he pulled of his dark duster, unhooked his gun belt and tossed both items under the table where they could remain hidden for the moment.
Chris heard Mary's voice clearly ordering the boys who apparently were not about to waste what daylight was left by being indoors, to be home before supper before he heard her footsteps approach the kitchen door. Chris took a deep swallow from the contents of his glass and reached for the copy of the Clarion News that was lying across the table. He had forgotten something, he could not remember what but there was no time to debate the situation because he did not want Mary to think that he had been unable to handle things in her absence. It was bad enough that she had thought him incapable of looking after Sarah on his own but her to find out what ha had been through this past day would simply be more than his ego could stand.
"Oh thank God I'm home." Mary gushed as she burst through the door and dropped the parcels she was carrying in her arms on the table.
"Hey Mary." Chris was a picture of nonchalance as he said with a completely neutral voice. "How were the boys or do I need to ask?"
Mary paused a moment and caught her breath as she glared at him. "Suffice to say the next time we go shopping, you can take them."
"That bad?" Chris asked.
"Your sons made a salesman cry." Mary growled. "I almost considered taking the poor man to the saloon for a drink."
"How come they're my sons when they make salesmen cry and yours when they do good in school?" Chris pointed out.
Mary looked at him with a sweet smile. "Because you weren't the one who went through a Caesarian section with Michael, or 20 hours of labor with Kyle or 9 hours with Sarah. Need I say more?"
"Are you trying to make me feel bad?" He gave her a look.
"Is it working?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Pretty well," Chris frowned and let the subject drop. He was not going to win the argument anyway.
"So how was Sarah?" Mary asked as she put the kettle on the stove for a well-earned pot of tea.
"Oh fine," Chris responded with perfect innocence. "She and Rebecca played together for awhile and now she's asleep."
"Oh that's nice, you took her over to Rain's?" Mary glanced over her shoulder long enough to ask.
"More or less." Chris shrugged, wondering what it was he had forgotten. It was really starting to nag at him now.
"Well I'm really proud of you." Mary smiled at him as she came back towards the table, planting a kiss on his forehead when she reached him. "I thought you might have a little difficulty with her."
"Nah," Chris said confidently, "not any at all. Problem with you Mary, is you don't think I could look out for my own little girl."
"Well you do keep thinking that a girl is so much easier to look after than a boy." Mary replied as she started towards the corridor, "that's a mistake."
"I don't think that no more," Chris was reluctantly forced to concede that point. "You're right, she's is a handful."
"Of course she is," Mary smiled proudly. "She's our daughter."
Chris could not disagree with that. Sarah was a Larabee and Larabees no matter what the age, seemed to be a magnet for trouble. He had no doubt that today was merely a preview of many more instances in the future where Sarah would undoubtedly drive him crazy but then again, she was no different from Billy, Michael or Kyle so he supposed he had better get used to it. For the moment at least, Chris was grateful that everything had turned out so well.
A scream tore through his ears and reminded Chris what he had forgotten most succinctly.
"CHRIS LARABEE, ARE THOSE BULLET HOLES IN MY GRANDMOTHER'S DIVAN?"