Elder '05: Lead

Chris reached out and grabbed Buck then he shoved and kept running, almost losing his footing as his ankle wobbled over a rock, his other boot slipping in the dust, but he determinedly kept speed.

Buck caught him easily then bumped into him sidelong, streaking ahead with a shout and a laugh.

He put his chin to his chest and barreled ahead, snagging Buck's pants with his hands, fingers rolling into the waistline as he gripped a healthy measure of cloth. He dug in and slowed Buck enough to gain a pace, Buck throwing a cuss or two at him and now he was the one to shout with a laugh.

The long miles were at last behind them, their horses grazing and dozing in the small corral, home but a few hurried lengths in front of them.

They raced up the two shallow and wide steps onto the porch, jostling and vying their way to the open front door. They spilled into the small cabin together, Buck's arm around Chris, desperately trying to hold him back, Chris doing the same.

Sarah was in the middle of the room waiting, laughing at them, hands already spread in the air for them to take.

Buck pushed Chris and darted forward, taking Sarah's outstretched hand. He pulled her close and kissed her soundly.

"Damn," Chris cursed with a grin, arriving a second too late. "I wanted to be the one to surprise her that we're home."

He stepped between them when their embrace opened to him, bumping his nose to hers, hand lifting to dust her face and his eyes closed so he could greet her properly.

"The way you two go about surprises it's a wonder anyone survives it," Sarah observed tartly after their kiss ended and Chris had pulled away.

Chris looked over at Buck. Buck merely shrugged. He looked back at Sarah and shrugged as well, completely unapologetic that their idea of a surprise included pushing and jabbing and yelling at each other.

They shared minutes of thankful, happy silence, absorbing the very glad and very good feeling of being all together once more.

Sarah eventually sighed, long-suffering, and took a step away to plant her hands on her hips. "Well," she demanded, "what did you bring me?"

It was something she always said but never truly meant.

Sarah hadn't even finished her tease and Chris was in Buck's arms and they were twirling around the room, Buck goose-necking to meet Sarah's eyes as they turned and turned in a clumsy box-step.

"This!" Buck grinned, leading Chris, exuberance making up for technique. "I learned it our night passing through Hayslip from one of the pretty fillies needing a bit of cheering and company."

They continued to dance, Chris doing his best to follow Buck's easy lead.

"More than one," he corrected, grinning. "He had every girl in that damn town lined up and waiting to teach him this new step."

A merry trill floated to them from Sarah and Chris and Buck's attentions returned to her, smiling at her as she watched them almost-tripping around the room. Buck's hand fitted more closely against the small of Chris' back and he played, fluttering his lashes with a coy smile.

"Of course, he went and disappointed the lot of them when the evening ended, him leaving with me."

Buck's grin deepened so that it was almost a leer. "Hell yeah!" he said. "Knew you were the best dancer in the whole town. No reason to waste my time seeing if I was wrong when I ain't never anyway."

Chris grinned back despite himself and felt inordinately complimented and pleased at the words and the penetrating, lusty gaze that was making his lips burn with intimate knowledge of experience.

Sarah's laugh at this was throaty and long and shivered over them, all trills forgotten.

Buck answered the burn and lowered for a kiss, hard and thorough for as short as it was, then maneuvered them to where she stood. He spun Chris away, taking Sarah in his arms in a fluid display of innate grace. Chris caught his balance and stayed back, the two dancing away from him, Buck maintaining a steady stream of instructions as they turned and turned.

"Do you like it?" he asked eventually, smiling because he knew she did.

Sarah nodded and her head fell forward onto Buck's shoulder. Buck looked up to offer Chris a turn but he shook his head. He indicated his hand instead and Buck's eyes narrowed then recognition had him agreeing eagerly.

They danced over to him and Sarah stood again as they came to a smooth stop. Chris put his arms around her from behind, dropping the necklace to swing loose from his fingers that he and Buck had been fortunate enough to afford, taken with it where it sat winking up at them from under the thick glass of Hayslip's general store window.

The chain was fine and its delicacy made Chris worry that he'd kink it. Sarah gasped lightly with surprise and Buck tenderly swept her hair out of the way so Chris could fasten it at her nape. When he let go it fell into place, the weight of the pendant settling it perfectly at the apex of her cleavage, delicate chain rasping against her skin.

Sarah immediately plucked it up and twisted her hand so she could get a good look at it, taking her time to savor the unexpected treat. The pendant was an unending braid that circled the chain, the silver tinted and worked so each of the three plaits gleamed in a subtly different hue. It wasn't expensive or grand, but it was more than she'd had before, and Sarah was sensible enough to appreciate whatever pleasure life delivered to her.

He and Buck had known the moment they'd seen it that she must have it.

She kissed Buck then Chris and smiled with honest delight. "Thank you," she said simply, their hands trailing together to hold in a cluster between them, admiring the new necklace against her dark blue calico dress, admiring one another, admiring being home and together again.

After many long moments Sarah tightened her grip then let go. "I've something for you as well," she said, still aglow with her pleasure and her smile. Her hand lifted to her necklace as she ducked away from them and hurried to the stove, skirting its violent heat to reach the shelf Chris had put above it, retrieving two long bundles.

She whirled and returned to them, a bundle in each hand held out for them to take.

Buck grinned and took the package with a short 'thanks,' then tore into the brown paper with abandon, making noises of discovery and appreciative satisfaction as the contents were revealed.

Chris was more careful with his, opening at one twine-tied end, pulling loose a thin but sturdy length of leather from the thick brown shell.

Sarah's hands were still held out to them and they both gave her the paper without thought, lost in consideration of their gift.

Chris' eyes darted between his hands and Buck's and Buck was doing the same. After a moment they laughed and exchanged, briefly, before trading back again. A pair of reins, each, the length of leather meticulously readied for the hard work it would receive behind a horse, lovingly detailed with the small metal tools and blunt wood hammer Chris could readily envision fitting in Sarah's hands as she tap-tapped her way through the designs she had created to put on them.

The tooling ran almost the full length of each rein, simple and not particularly skilled or at all practiced, but to Chris it was beautiful and without fault. He glanced up and caught Buck's eye and knew it was the same for them both. The leather rolled easily between his thumb and forefinger, well oiled and patiently prepared, the dull buff color it had started as replaced with a rich, reddish-brown stain.

He passed the strap through his fingers, pulling with a hand as he held with the other, feeling the slight variations in width and texture as it slid along. He put it under his nose, eyes closing as he breathed; not much smelled quite as good as freshly oiled leather.

Sarah stood, a bit apart and between them, waiting, suspended in a mix of apprehension and anticipation, the paper worked into tight balls in each of her hands.

Buck grabbed her cheek with a hand and kissed the plump, reddening apple then leaned back without letting go. "Prettiest tooling I've ever seen," he pronounced, grinning widely, sincere and wholly pleased.

A short burst of laugher rose from Sarah's chest and she shook her head. "Nonsense," she said practically, but her smile and her eyes never dimmed.

"Is too," Buck assured. "Prettiest 'cause it comes from you." His grin softened and his fingers played across her cheek, then he let go to once more fiddle with the reins admiringly.

Chris took in long breath, met Sarah's gaze and nodded, thinking to himself and hoping to communicate 'what he said.' Only from Buck could such a statement sound so genuine and brand new. He held up his hand, the leather tangled in his fingers, his thumb passing over where the tooling began on each strap, just above the tight and perfect square knot that would keep the two ends together.

"When'd you start this?" Chris asked as he marveled over the supple reins with his fingers, gaze following the tactile exploration, smiling at the interlacing of their initials cleverly hidden within thistle blossoms and admirable attempts at the paisleys that adorned his and Buck's favorite kerchief style.

Sarah smiled back, face a mix of flushed happiness and pride. "The day you left. Went into town and picked up the leather after I'd finished clearing up our breakfast. It's been on order a few months. Got the tools last time we were there, had them hidden away ever since." A dimple showed deep in her cheek and her eyes took on a mischievous glint. "Mrs Greer at the millinery has been telling me most sternly," here she pursed her lips and glowered and began wagging a finger, a fair impression of the old busybody that manned the front counter for her husband's store, "that for some time now I needed a bit of handiwork to 'maintain myself' while the two of you are away moving your horseflesh around."

"Just imagine if she knew what you did with those hands once we get back," Buck grinned devilishly and looked up from the study of his carefully decorated reins, their open loops flopping with satisfying scheraps of sound as he moved.

Sarah blushed beautifully crimson, grinned back then after a moment's pause heaved one of the crumpled balls of brown paper at Buck's chest. It hit square on the mark then bounced away, tumbling through the air before rattling around on the floor.

Buck's eyes closed and he covered his heart with both hands, head falling back dramatically, reins falling away to slither onto the wide plank table next to him.

"To the quick, woman, to the quick," he moaned, pressing his hands tighter to his chest.

Chris met Sarah's gaze and he laughed, her delighted peals weaving with his, chasing one another around and around the small room just starting to cool with the arrival of dusk.

Sarah's brow perked then her other hand was arcing through the air; Chris barely missed getting popped between the eyes with the other wad of thick paper. His stare narrowed and he did his best to look dangerous, love and laughter taking any hint of threat from the darkened eyes.

She half-laughed and half-shrieked then ran from him to duck behind Buck, hands gripping into the faded brown shirt, head buried between tautly drawn shoulder blades as she begged he protect her. Buck smiled and winked at Chris then twirled in place, gathering Sarah to him; he held her close and mock-whispered that though she was evil and unkind and had just done the same to him, he would shield her from the cursed mean Chris Larabee, though next time she might think twice before again being so rash.

Chris' grin widened and he advanced, laugher ruining his exaggerated growls. As he approached he kicked into one of the discarded wrappers, so he bent to scoop it up, winging it at the couple as he righted. It hit Buck's chin then bopped against Sarah's head before careening off into the room.

Sarah yowled and turned to face Chris, lips held in a quivering sulk, blue eyes huge and reproachful. Buck tutted and kissed the crown of her head then patted it softly and with great care, his other arm engulfing her in a sheltering hold.

"You are a very mean man, cursed Chris Larabee," she grumped, lower lip giving into the giggles she was trying so hard to cover with her feigned pout.

Buck's other hand lifted and he pointed to a nonexistent bruise the paper might have left if it was actually of any weight. "Got me too," he complained.

Sarah clucked her tongue and murmured something comforting, then she looked back at Chris. Her eyes slanted and she strained up on her toes, whole face forgetting about the pout as the lovely features relaxed into a kiss. She lightly dropped one, then two, then three kisses to Buck's forehead. As she pulled away Buck's hands closed around her head, tangling in her hair, thumb feeling the lips that had just left their kisses.

"Better?" she asked huskily, the whole of her pressed seamlessly along Buck's height.

"Not yet," Buck wheedled, again lifting his finger to point to his wound. "Still hurts," he grumbled, tilting forward so Sarah would have better access to far more than his forehead.

Sarah kissed him again and again, hands sure and thorough, skimming the broadness of his shoulders, contouring the muscles of his arms to his chest, resting over the strong heartbeat. She left a hand there and let the other journey on, rounding Buck until her small, tapered fingers held a firm grip of Buck's ass.

"And now?" she breathed, tasting Buck's whiskered chin with her tongue.

"Getting there," Buck whispered, nibbling under her ear.

The two turned slowly in place, making an enticing display for Chris' benefit so he might know what gains this alliance against him had brought, engaged in a far better dance than before. For several long minutes they continued on without inclusion of him, but of that Chris had no real objection.

Four slow turns that kept getting slower then Buck looked up at Chris, blue eyes glittering and content and animated with the sweet, rightful truth of all of this. A long finger escaped the dark tendrils of Sarah's hair and crooked in clear invitation, eyes closing again as his teeth and lips continued on to the hollow between her collarbones.

Chris watched a moment more, then when Sarah's back was to him he moved in quickly, one arm tucking between them to encompass Sarah's trim waist, warm and secure against Buck's groin. His head dropped forward and it rested on Buck's arm and Sarah's shoulder, a little of each, the silky ends of Sarah's hair tickling his cheek. His other hand found Buck's hip and he left it there, loose and undemanding, holding the three of them in a wonderfully familiar, perfect-fit embrace.

They spun and they spun and Chris closed his eyes and knew where this would take them and his body filled with expectancy and a wild surge of needy heat. Hungry lips found his and his fingers wove into Sarah's hair. They staggered and tripped and spun and spun, eventually finding their way to the bed newly made with sun-fresh linens that smelt of long prairie days that begged indulgence of countless languorous hours.

Buck rolled onto his side and Sarah nestled close, tucked beside, then pulled Chris into her arms. He buried his head in her - the downy curve of her neck, the sweet fragrance of her, all perfumed for their homecoming with roses and clean sweat and the tingle of arousal - and sighed his first full sigh of release and relief since he and Buck had broken camp early that morning. Sarah's hand cupped his cheek and she whispered his name, soft and firm with the purpose of caress.

Chris smiled and sunk deeper, fingers finding and playing against Buck's where they idled Sarah's hip, already surrendered to that sated and inviting laziness and the completeness of having come home.

"Chris?"

He blinked his eyes open and the haze of memory was slow to fade; it stayed with him, vibrant and for an aching moment so very much real and alive, then parts began to crumble and fall away from the whole and in another moment the vision was gone. His brows knit together and he scowled, perturbed at the disturbance, eyes widening enough to let the world start to creep back in.

"You ready then?" Buck's voice was pitched low and not quite concerned, a prompt and a question that spanned much more than readiness to travel.

He looked away distractedly, stopping before unwrapping from around the saddlehorn the plain, utilitarian reins he'd replaced the ones from Sarah with some years before, the sight of them having spurred the vivid memory minutes ago.

He'd destroyed Sarah's in a fit of rage so black it had terrified him - that such anger fired to consuming being then and that such anger dwelled in him even now, buried far beneath the life he had slowly rebuilt but omnipresent, a threat he never took for granted but had warily learned to accept.

It was a fragile truce, but the uneasy suspension was preferable to the alternative. Each day he soothed the terrible blackness and got better and better at it as time's distance, practice and most of all Buck rewarded him for the effort; each day he regretted the loss of those reins and so many, many other things.

Chris frowned and he gave a last tug to his cinch, working the slack through the knot, tucking the end back under then he patted Pony's neck. He mounted with the swiftness of familiar habit but paused before spurring them forward. He kneed Pony and pulled the reins wide, the horse's head bobbing then ducking to follow.

Buck's hat was low but the steady blue eyes weren't dimmed by the shadow. They were trained on Chris, attentive, laced with speculation and hints of worry.

Pony's shoulder knocked into Lady and the two animals stomped and grumbled but didn't protest further, coming to a stubborn stop, not bolting but not moving further in this nonsensical direction.

Chris raised his hand and let his finger trail across Buck's chin, following the rise to generous lips, palm cupping the strong, weather-worn cheek, holding the dear face for but a breath. He dusted his fingertip along the softness directly under one of Buck's beautiful blues then feathered the bare hint of gray showing itself in the thick sideburn.

"Reckon so," he said quietly, the back of his hand resting briefly to Buck's cheek then he let it fall away. He tightened his fingers around the reins and dug his heel into Pony's flank and they lurched into motion to lead them, forward and away from where Lady patiently held ground.

Chris looked back and smiled then nodded and he watched Buck watching him, the clouded blue gaze clearing, inborn humor returning to loosen the handsome face with easy understanding even if Buck didn't precisely know Chris' mind.

After a returned nod from Buck he righted in the saddle and met the rise of dawn, icy wisps of clouds brightening as the sun's early reach stretched itself across the earth. The wind was cold but come noon the heat of that awakening sun would offset the chill.

Peripherally he was aware of Lady striding to join them, long legs falling into an easy lope to match Pony's comfortable trot. He watched Buck, the powerful, capable fingers lost in study as they felt up and down against the grooves and hollows of Sarah's fading handiwork, seeing them without looking. He wondered if his friend hadn't figured him out, or if it was a simpler matter of them both naturally contemplating such things on the return trip.

He was glad at least one of them had enough sense to treat the reins as they deserved.

Chris' smile returned and the sun seemed to launch suddenly from beneath the curve of the horizon, brilliant and shimmering orange-white but not yet blinding. He leaned forward, a physical reaction to urge and ease the last hours that would pass beneath the horses' hooves, and thought about how good it would be to be back home.