Get your own Free Home Page Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and characters belong to MGM and Trilogy Entertainment. This story does not intend to infringe on that copyright.
Kath's Notes: This is a short and silly bit of nothing that was born out of a writing exercise. The items I was given to write about were horse, embarrassment, icy water, no matches. Many thanks to Sheena for kickstarting me out of a hormone-induced bad mood. =)
*****
Chris should have been paying attention. Instead, his mind sorting through a particularly annoying problem with two feuding families who'd brought their conflict into town, he'd let the horse choose the path. Normally this wouldn't have been such a bad thing; the animal possessing a certain amount of intelligence when it came to where to place its feet. However, today it appeared his horse was as distracted as he was. Perhaps the animal was pondering the whereabouts of Mr. McKenzie's missing cattle. Or, maybe day dreaming about a reward of oats so richly deserved after a long afternoon's ride to nowhere in the chilly air.
Either way, they made a great pair.
The startled horse upended a preoccupied Chris, dumping him unceremoniously into the shallow river. Chris gasped with the shock as the icy cold water seeped immediately through his clothes, right down to his very bones by the feel of it. He splashed and spluttered as he tried to regain his feet, preferably before his limbs froze in place.
Finally, he made his way to the far bank, shaking and shivering and cursing. Taking a deep breath he looked around, spinning when his eyes didn't find what he was looking for immediately.
The damn horse was nowhere in sight!
It was only due to the heat of his anger, the perpetual motion of his walk, and his blistering tongue that Chris wasn't suffering from hypothermia by the time he made it to his shack. He noted sourly that the horse hadn't even had the sense to come here. Probably the damn beast had headed into town which meant the others would come looking soon.
That thought was enough to make Chris swear again.
He entered the small building intent only on starting a fire and looking forward to regaining sensation in his fingers and toes. Maybe he'd get lucky and the horse had drowned further down stream. He threw some small sticks of wood into the stove and reached for the matches. When his numb and shaking hand didn't find them he began a more thorough search, even patting down his own soggy pockets.
Oh, this day was just getting better and better all the time!
He had no matches.
Chris was at least able to change out of his wet clothing into something dry, if still cold. Since the interior provided no greater warmth he chose to sit on his porch step, awaiting the arrival of the one he knew would eventually come.
Sure enough, a rider approached, his distinctive slouch the best thing Chris had seen all day.
Vin frowned as he looked down on his friend. Chris was sitting huddled on the step with his arms wrapped around himself. His lips were tightly pressed but Vin could swear they were almost blue.
"Damn Larabee, what the hell happened to you?"
"Got any matches?" Chris asked in response. When Vin looked puzzled Chris repeated the question, a little more of his testy mood shining through this time.
"You wanta give me an account of why your horse came trotting back to town without you?" Vin asked as he dismounted and reached into his saddlebag.
"No," Chris said shortly. "What I want are some matches."
Vin held them out, still perplexed, but figuring he'd get some answers eventually. Chris snatched at the proffered item with clumsy fingers and the matches fell to the dirt.
"Dammit!" Chris nearly fell himself, as he bent over to scoop them up.
"Here," Vin said softly, taking the matches back before they could fall again. "Why don't I take care of it."
Leaving Chris behind and without any choice, Vin entered the shack to start a fire.
"Just so you know," Chris said, as he kept his tingling hands above the heat of the stove. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Suit yourself," Vin said. He tipped his chair back against the wall.
Chris hitched himself closer to the stove. "If Buck ever hears about this he won't ever let it go. The man's like a dog with a bone."
"He won't never hear it from me," Vin said.
"And Standish would love some grist to get on my case," growled Chris. He snorted. "Like that man's never fallen off his..." He broke off suddenly and glared at Vin who stared back passively.
Chris snorted again. "Nathan'd probably want to douse me with some kind of tea and that's the last thing I need."
"The last thing," agreed Vin.
"Bottle of whiskey suit me much better," mumbled Chris.
"Probably help warm your bones a bit too, I reckon," Vin commented.
"It's one thing for JD to fall into the trough but..." Chris bit off the words, not seeming to notice he'd spoken his thoughts aloud.
"The rate you're going there, pard, I'd say Josiah's the only one gonna hear your story." Vin lifted his gaze to the ceiling and almost succeeded in hiding his grin.
Chris glowered at him. "You think this is funny, Tanner?"
Vin leaned forward so that the chair hit the floor on all fours again. "Yup, I do. But don't worry none. Your secret is safe with me." He rose to his feet. "I'm curious 'bout one thing though."
"One more word, Tanner, and I'll shoot your curiosity right out of you."
Unconcerned, Vin sauntered over to the door. "Just what has busted your pride more - that you fell off your horse, or coulldn't find your matches?"
With that he reached out to the matchbox on the windowsill and tossed it to Chris. Then he made a quick getaway.
The End!
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