Disclaimer: Jim and Blair belong to Pet Fly and company. I'm just borrowing without asking.
Archive: Link to BCW's URL below as usual, thank you kindly.
http://www.oocities.org/SoHo/Gallery/3393/Klair/klairnonslash.html
Comments on this story will reach me through BCWs address: crape@biodec.wustl.edu
Warnings: It does help to have read the previous stories as well as the joint ones. Rating
probably PG. Oh, no real deer were hurt in the making of this story.
Any remaining mistakes are property of the author.
Wyoming Territory, Prospect Creek Ranch, Mid-June, 1874
Jim saw Sheriff Banks to his horse, ignoring the pouty-faced little boy he told to stay on the
porch.
"Thanks for coming out to take our statements, Simon, and for bringing Ceylon home," Jim said
in hushed tones, not wanting little 'big" ears to overhear. "I don't think either of us is ready to go
back to town until that bastard is swinging at the end of a rope."
"I understand, Jim. I won't sleep well until he's out of my jail and in the territorial prison
awaiting execution. Darryl's been sleeping with me every evening since I got back. While I was
away, Miss Rhonda held him all night."
"Blair hasn't been sleeping right either. He's been having nightmares and won't let me get out of
reach. This is the farthest we've been apart since we rescued him. I can't really fault him for it, I
don't want to be far from him, either."
"Which is the reason I need to get moving. I promised Darryl I'd be home well in time for
supper." Simon clapped his friend on the shoulder before pulling himself into the saddle. "Take
it easy, Jim. This will pass in time. I'll send word when Kincaid is in the ground. We'll all sleep better then."
Jim watched Simon ride down the road, not at all surprised when a little hand timidly took his.
He gave it a gentle squeeze before looking down into the deep blue eyes looking up at him. With
a small grunt, Jim hoisted Blair into his arms. He walked them back to the cabin, Blair's head
resting against his shoulder.
~~~
Blair picked at the food on his plate, moving a little to the edge nearest him, and surreptitiously
picked it off to give to the waiting dog slobbering at his feet.
"If you feed Nemo from the table, she'll have to stay outside while we eat," Jim said, not raising
his head. The increased heartbeat of the boy sitting across from him told him the message had
been received.
"But I can't eat it all."
"Then when we're through, you can scrape your leftovers into her bowl, but I don't want her
begging and drooling at the table." This time he did look up to fix his son with a stern gaze.
"Yes, sir." Blair continued to pick at his food. It reminded Jim of how the boy used to eat, or
not eat, when he'd first found him almost a year ago.
"Papa, is the Sheriff gonna take Kincaid and the others to prison?"
"Yes, son. They're leaving tomorrow." When Blair remained silent and just sat there moving
more food around his plate, absently kicking his chair leg, Jim put his fork down and cupped his
son's face to get his attention. "It's over, Blair. They can't hurt you, or me, anymore."
"I know," Blair shrugged, but remained quiet for a few more minutes. "Papa, can we go fishing?"
"Maybe. We need to get the rest of the chores done and then we'll see." At Blair's wide smile
and renewed interest in eating, Jim decided to make that happen no matter what.
By late afternoon they were on their way to their favorite fishing hole, Blair riding Jim's
shoulders.
~~~
Finished cleaning up after their big fish supper, Jim put Blair to bed. Jim ignored the boy's pleas
of not being tired.
"But, Papa," Blair whined through a yawn, "I'm not sleepy." He rubbed his eyes and pouted as
he was tucked into bed despite his protests. "Can't I stay up just a little longer?" Another yawn
weakened his stance.
Jim took their latest bedtime "book" off the dresser and sat on the bed against the headboard. "I'll
read a little bit longer tonight, but then it's lights out. Sheriff Banks brought out the mail with
him, too. Now let's see what the latest issue of Scientific American has to say."
Jim didn't get half way through the first article before Blair's eyes started to flutter shut. He
leaned over and tucked the covers more snugly around his drowsy son before kissing the boy's
forehead.
"Sweet dreams, Little Bit."
Blair yawned. "Night, Papa."
Jim moved off the bed and returned the magazine to the dresser. He smiled when he noticed
Nemo standing patiently by the door.
"Need to go out, girl?" he whispered to the dog as he opened the door and watched the little dog
scampered outside.
"Where are you going!"
Blair's anxious voice had Jim spinning back around to face his wide-eyed child. He took a calming
breath.
"Nowhere, Blair. I was just letting Nemo out one more time for the night," Jim reassured as he
crossed the room back to the bed.
"Oh...sorry." Blair ducked his head and sank back into the bedding.
Jim ruffled his son's hair as he retucked the embarrassed boy back into bed.
"It's all right. Go back to sleep. I'm staying right here." Jim stayed by the bedside until Blair's
breathing became even and deep. He swept a stray curl from the boy's forehead before working
on his ledgers by the firelight.
An hour and a half later, Jim wearily got into bed, bracing himself for another night of Blair
tossing and turning next to him. Simon's words played over again in his head. It would pass in
time. He just hoped it would be soon.
~~~
"No! Papa!" Blair bolted upright, breathing heavily, trying to shake the images of his nightmare.
A comforting arm circled his shoulders in the darkness and he sank into the firm warmth of his
father's side. His trembling subsided as a hand began running up and down his arm, slowly
working comfort into him and another gently stroked his curls. He turned more into his father's
chest and wrapped his short arms around his father's middle. As his father laid back down, he
followed, not letting go. The blankets were drawn up around him and tucked in close.
"Want to tell me about it?"
Blair shook his head at the quietly asked question.
"It might help."
Blair thought about it for a long time, trying to get the images clear in his head, Papa continuing to
stroke his hair in a soothing motion.
"There was a big black cat," he finally blurted out and waited for his father's reaction. His father
just continued his reassuring rubbing, although Blair thought he detected a slight tensing in the
body he hugged. He continued before he forgot.
"Kincaid was there. He was running after me. I tried to run away, but I couldn't move. I heard
you tell me to run and I turned around and...and Kincaid tried to shoot you, but the cat came. He
was big and he growled, but I wasn't afraid of him. He pushed Kincaid down. He told us to run,
but I don't know how since cats can't talk, but he did. But now you couldn't run. You had
another spell. I saw Kincaid get up and I yelled to you to run and ..and Kincaid shot his gun and
I yelled and then I woke up."
"It was just a dream."
"A bad dream," Blair squeaked out, snuggling closer.
"Yes, Little Bit. A bad dream."
"A very bad dream," he pouted.
"A really, very no good, bad dream?"
"A really, no good terrible, very bad dream." Blair smiled a bit at his father's attempts to soothe
him, letting the dreaded images go.
"And now it's over. Kincaid is gone. We're at home. Safe."
Blair nestled further into his father's side.
"Yeah," he yawned again, not fighting sleep this time. "'Sides, the cat'll keep watch."
~~~
The nightmares continued, but not always with such intensity. Jim had a few himself, but,
fortunately, he never woke Blair with them. The boy had plenty of his own demons to deal
with. Blair didn't need his added to them.
Almost a week later, Jim looked up from the horse he was shoeing as familiar voices came to him
from a distance. He scanned the road leading to the cabin, just able to make out a tall, sandy
brown-haired man and small dark-haired boy riding up.
"Blair," he shouted to the boy tending the chickens. "Go wash up, we're going to have
company." Jim finished shoeing the horse and put his tools away just as their guests rode
through the gate.
"¡Hola, amigo! Cómo estas?" the tall man on the elegant palomino asked, bringing his horse to a
halt by the corral where Jim stood.
"Howdy to you too, my friend. Here, Justin, let me help you down," Jim welcomed his
neighbors, Patrick Choate and his ward Justin Evers. He helped the little boy down from the
horse, tousling the child's hair once he was on the ground.
"Hi, Uncle Jim. Where's Blair?"
"He's washing up and'll be here directly, squirt. What brings you our way, Patrick?"
Patrick Choate dismounted his Palomino and shook Ellison's hand heartily.
"Justin and I were in town this morning and we ran into Sheriff Banks--"
The tall Spaniard was interrupted by an excited Blair barreling towards them. "Justin! Uncle
Paddy!" Blair yelled before throwing himself at his adopted "uncle". Choate had little choice but
to swing the boy up into his arms and give him a quick hug. Blair pulled back quickly, an impish smile on his face. "What'd you bring me, Uncle Paddy?"
Jim would have been angry at the rudeness, but it was the first time all week he'd seen more than
just a glimmer of his son's former gusto for living. He mildly began to admonish, "Blair. . ."
"That's all right, Jim," Choate smoothed over while setting Blair down. "Chu Wa put a few jars
of those peaches you boys like so much in my saddle bags."
Choate and Ellison shared a smile over the boys' heads as they groaned with pained expressions
on their faces.
"Although I'm surprised there were any left to preserve after you two stuffed yourselves."
"Please, Paddy," Justin said, holding his stomach. "Don't tease."
"All right, chiquito. Seems I remember Chu Wa packing up a box cookies he made yesterday,
too. Maybe we can get those out after a bit," Choate said, looking to Ellison for agreement.
"Sounds like a good idea. How long can you stay?"
"Only the afternoon. I hired some hands in town and I need to get back to the ranch tonight to
let Chu Wa know what's coming tomorrow. He'll be cooking for seven instead of for three."
"Blair, are your chores finished?"
"Mostly." At his father's arched brow, Blair continued. "I just have to fill the kindling bucket, but I can do that after they leave."
"Justin," Paddy said. "Help him finish then you both can go play."
Knowing better than to complain the boys made their way to the cabin, Nemo tagging along,
retrieved the bucket and went to the woodshed to fill it.
The two men unsaddled the Palomino and let him loose in the corral before Paddy broached the
subject that had really brought him out there.
"Sheriff Banks just got back yesterday from witnessing Kincaid's hanging. He was going to come
out here himself, but I told him I'd swing by to deliver the news. I read about what happened in
the newspaper. I'm sorry I couldn't be on the posse, Jim, but—"
"No apologies needed, Patrick. Your place was with your family. I'd have done the same if he
hadn't kidnapped Blair." Jim looked over at the two boys busily filling the large pail with wood
chips. "They certainly change everything, don't they?"
Choate nodded in agreement. "How are you two holding up? I was surprised you didn't kill him
when I read the account in the paper. I don't know if I could have let the law handle it if it had
been Justin he'd taken."
"I was sorely tempted, but that wouldn't have done Blair any good. I've never seen him like
this, Patrick. Today was the first time he's let me be more than a few feet from him. He still
keeps me in sight, even if I just have to work in the barn for a bit. And the worst part is that I'm
just as scared as he is. I don't want him out of my sight. I find myself checking on him a lot
more than I used to. That bastard Kincaid took away some of my child's security and innocence.
Hanging was too good for him."
Not knowing how to reply to that, Choate swung his saddle bags over his shoulder and followed
Ellison to the cabin.
~~~
"So then after I escaped the first time, I pretended I was really sorry and I fooled that stupid ol'
johnny reb into untying my hands." Blair paused to take a breath before he continued his story
for his totally captivated friend.
"And then what happened?"
"Then I punched him in the neck, 'cause that's where I could reach, and ran as fast as I could."
"Wow, Blair! Just like in the dime store novels. Then what'd you do?"
"Well, then I hid behind some rocks and all hel—heck broke loose. I heard people shouting, one of
them was Papa, and then gunfire and the next thing I know, I heard Papa calling for me. And we
went home."
Wow," he said again. "Bet you Uncle Jim was plenty sore. Paddy was, and he wasn't even
there. I tried to read the paper over his shoulder one evening. He would say naughty words in
Spanish under his breath, but I heard him. He was real upset about what happened. I'm glad
you're all right. Weren't you scared?"
"A little...mostly. Sometimes a lot and sometimes I was just sore because I knew he was just
trying to hurt Papa by taking me. He was really mean and I'm glad he's gone. Papa says Sheriff
Banks will make it so he can't hurt us ever again."
"I'm glad, Blair." He paused, ducking his head. "Cuz, I'd miss you." Quickly averting a
response, he asked, "Hey, is this pail full enough?"
"Yeah, that should be enough to get us some cookies," Blair said with a mischievous grin. Each
boy grabbed the bucket handle and they walked as fast as they could to the cabin.
~~~
Jim felt more relaxed than he had in weeks. It had been a very pleasant afternoon, both men
roughhousing with the boys. Paddy and Justin were saddled up and they were making their final
good-byes.
"Jim, thanks for the hospitality. You going to the Fourth of July celebration in town?"
Jim nodded, Blair bouncing by his side with glee. "Yes, we'll be there. Wouldn't miss it this year
on a bet."
"Good. See you in a few weeks then," Choate said, turning his horse to the road. "You can buy
the first round, and I'll buy the next."
Jim and Blair waved as their friends rode out of sight.
~~~
Jim walked through the lush jungle, sweat glistening off his body from the humidity. He
remembered this place as the home of his spirit guide and hurried through the foliage to reach the
temple. He stopped his progress when a familiar, bubbly giggle reached his ears. Cocking his
head to focus on the sound, Jim let the knot loose on his sense of hearing as Seeks The Waters
had taught him weeks ago. There it was again, the happy sound of Blair laughing with delight.
Jim ran toward the sound and intensified his monitoring to include the boy's heartbeat. It was
beating faster than normal, but not the frantic flurry of fear. Jim couldn't say the same for
himself because he detected another heartbeat close to Blair. He ran faster, plant fronds slapping his body as he tore through the flora.
The laughter and heartbeats were closer now and Jim began to tighten the knot again to stay in
control. Carefully he moved a large plant leaf aside, wishing he had his Colt revolver with him,
and froze at the sight he beheld.
Blair sat on top of the large black panther, his spirit guide, as the animal trotted in a wide circle
giving the boy a ride. The child giggled and shrieked in delight as he bounced along on the
animal's back, his hands clutching clumps of fur and skin at the cat's neck.
When their path came close to Jim's hiding place, he reached out and snatched Blair from the
panther's back. The boy startled at first before recognizing whose arms he was in.
"Papa! What are you doing here? This is the cat from my dreams. He's the same one on the
necklace Running Doe made me."
Jim looked from the cat, who now sat regally still, to Blair, who sat patiently in his arms waiting
for his answer. The rancher turned a stern glare to the cat.
"What in the Sam Hill do you think you're doing with my son?"
"He's a friend, Papa. He wouldn't hurt me." Blair frowned at him.
Then, before the boy's amazed eyes, the cat began to change into the shaman known as Gray
Wolf. Jim tried to shield Blair from the sight, but the curious child peeked through his father's
fingers, seeing everything.
"Oh, wow! How do you do that, mister? Does it hurt? Can you go back to being the cat? Whe
-"
"Blair," Jim said firmly, silencing the child mid-word. "Gray Wolf?"
"Young one," Gray Wolf began, motioning for Blair to approach him. Jim let him wiggled down
from his arms, but kept a close watch as his son walked up to the shaman. Gray Wolf patted the
step next to him and Blair sat down as the old man put his palm to the boy's forehead. "Rest for now." With those words, Blair's eyes closed and Gray Wolf guided the limp body down to
lie on the stone step.
"What'd you do to him?" Jim asked, stalking forward.
"He only sleeps, Watchman, so we may talk privately."
The two men walked to the edge of the clearing, Jim looking over at Blair every few moments.
"What's this all about, Gray Wolf?"
"See? See what?"
"That he need not fear any more. You will protect him, and so will I."
"How?"
"Tell him, watchman. He will understand and find comfort in the knowledge."
"Knowledge of what? Old man, you speak in riddles. What should I tell him?"
"The truth."
Jim woke with a start. He loosened the knot so he could clearly see Blair sleeping in a tight ball
next to him. He laid back down and tried to decipher his spirit guide's cryptic edict. Tell Blair
the truth. He always did, so what 'truth' was the old man talking about? He fell back into a
restless sleep before coming up with an answer.
~~~
Jim drank his morning coffee, trying not to stare at Blair stirring his corn meal mush around and
around in his bowl.
"Do you want some more syrup, Little Bit?" he asked casually. When the boy just shook his
head without saying a word, Jim became alarmed. Since when did his son turn down an
opportunity for more sweets?
~~~
Brother Against Brother
by Klair
~~~~
"You're on. Take care on the road."
That night, Blair went to bed with less fuss, but he still slept restlessly. Jim fell asleep unhappy
with not being able to help Blair over this ordeal more.
"Your guide is troubled. We must help him to see."