Chapter Twenty-Four: Stop Being So Serious

"Shit, Evie, it's a good thing you shot her cuz we wouldn't have found this place if you hadn't." Ox whispered in the night as the large farmhouse came into view.

"Glad I could be of assistance." Frankie mumbled.

He heard Evangeline whimper in response and glanced over to see her barely holding onto the saddle horn to keep herself in the saddle as she lay draped over it.

"Your sister's a bit too soft for this life, don't ya think?" Frankie asked from behind Ox as she kept her arms wrapped tight around his waist. Ox had heard her wince only a handful of times and he marveled at how damn tough she must be. A bullet wound in her side and a busted up leg and she hadn't complained about either one.

"Evie's tough. We've just been a while without good food and water." Ox countered, rushing to his sister's defense.

"Sure." Frankie replied without interest. "Let's take the horses to that barn over there and get them settled in and then we'll head up to the house. I think I see a bit of firelight coming from the sitting room so somebody must be sitting up."

The trio quickly entered the barn Ox sat Frankie on a bale of hay before helping Evangeline from her own horse. "Shit, Evie, you okay?" he whispered, gripping her upper arms tightly when she stumbled sideways.

"Yeah." She tried to send him a reassuring smile but Ox thought it was more of a grimace. He led her over to Frankie and leaned her against the same bales of hay before going back to the horses.

Knowing he had to work quickly, Ox unsaddled them both and then tossed the saddlebags, with what little supplies they had left, over his shoulder. He turned back to the women and paused.

He could only carry one of them and neither of them looked as if they could take a single step alone. Loyalty had him wanting to help his sister and yet Frankie was the one with a hurt leg and a bullet wound.....

"Carry her, Ox." Evangeline spoke up as she stood straight and forced her shoulders back. "I am not nearly as helpless as she seems to keep insisting that I am."

Frankie opened her mouth, clearly ready to argue, but Ox cut her off by hefting her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest like a new bride.

"Damned man. What are you doing?" Frankie demanded and Ox shrugged.

"Carrying you." He turned his attention to Evangeline. "Evie, you go ahead and pull your gun. I got my hands too full to be much help if we see any of those monsters."

"Rabid." Frankie spoke up.

"Is that what you call them?" Ox asked with a frown as the trio left the barn and Ox kicked the big doors closed before Evangeline locked them from the outside to keep the horses safe.

"Yep. They sure act like a bunch or rabid humans to me."

"Guess that makes sense." Ox conceded and they fell into silence as they made the slow walk to the house. Ox could have gone faster seeing as how Frankie couldn't weight more than one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet with rocks in her pockets, but he could tell that Evangeline was in a lot of pain and didn't want to rush her.

"Something isn't right." Frankie whispered as they stepped onto the porch. "Someone should have noticed us by now."

Ox glanced at Evangeline and saw her grip tighten on the gun in her hand before he reached out and rapped at the door with his knuckles.

***

"What are they doing down there?" Charlotte whispered when another loud thud and then a burst of laughter came from downstairs. Silas sighed as he rubbed his face.

"I don't know but I do wish they would stop so we could get some sleep before dawn."

A feminine squeal filled the air next followed by yet another loud thud and then a painful moan.

"Maybe we should go check on them." Charlotte urged and Silas nodded. He was annoyed at having his night in Charlotte's arms, feeling her warm skin against his own, be interrupted.

He slid his pants back on and then helped Charlotte from the bed and helped her slide into her white nightdress and robe. He loved the way she gathered up her loose dark hair and pulled it from beneath her robe before letting it fall long down her back.

Silas reached out and caressed her cheek and then there was another moan and thud beneath them. Charlotte's light green eyes widened.

"Silas, what if a rabid got in?"

"Colt and Comanche are more than capable of taking care of themselves, Miss Charlotte. I'm sure it's nothing quite that bad."

He spared a glance at Little Grace, happy to see that she was still sleeping peacefully, before taking Charlotte's hand in his and leading her out of the room. When they stepped downstairs and Silas saw the whiskey bottle clutched in Colt's hand and the Comanche gathering himself up to run yet again at the wall, he could not believe his eyes.

"What is going on down here?!" he demanded, feeling very much like a father scolding his children.

Katherine, who was hanging off of Colt's arm, whirled around to face him and Colt laughed loudly as Comanche ran forward and hit the wall with his shoulder, (explaining what the thudding sound had been), and then moaned painfully as he stumbled back.

Colt took a swig of whiskey from the nearly empty bottle and pointed at Comanche with a wide grin splitting his face. "You can get that drunk ass injun to fight with anything!"

Katherine giggled and took the bottle from Colt's hand. "Even the wall."

"I only need one more time." Comanche growled as he tightened his red cloth headband and nodded slowly. "I can defeat it."

"Drinking yourselves stupid does not seem like the wisest decision to make when there are rabid monsters roaming around." Silas stated as he took the whiskey bottle from Katherine and she stuck out her lip and put her hands on her hips.

"That's my whiskey." She whined. She tried to reach for the bottle but Silas moved it and she lost her balance, nearly falling headfirst into the wall before Charlotte caught her and steadied her.

"Well thank you very much." Katherine stated very seriously. She put her hands on either side of Charlotte's face and for a moment Silas was worried the woman was going to kiss her. "You saved my life. You are such a good person."

Charlotte glanced over at Silas but he just shrugged. He had never been very tolerant of those that drank themselves into idiotic states. He had no problem with a shot of whiskey or mug of beer now and then but clearly Colt, Comanche and Katherine had overdone things. The bottle of whiskey in Silas's hand was nearly empty and there was another empty bottle tipped over on the side table.

Another thud signaled Comanche's next attempt at attacking the wall and Colt laughed loudly, clutching at his stomach while tears ran down his cheeks. His white shirt was untucked and more than half the buttons were undone and at some point this evening the man had lost one of his boots.

Katherine stepped away from Charlotte, stumbling across the room to a chair and plopping herself down. Silas thought that she was beginning to look a little green and he had a feeling she was going to be regretting all that whiskey very very soon.

"Foolish. Every one of them." Silas mumbled but Charlotte laid her hand on his arm and smiled.

"Take it easy on them. Colt looks happy. I never have seen him smile or laugh before."

"Drunken happiness is not happiness. I guarantee he won't be nearly so cheerful come morning when his head is pounding and his stomach churning.

"Quit hoggin' the bottle!" Colt said with a sloppy grin as he grabbed the whiskey bottle from Silas's hand.

"What kind is that?" Charlotte asked and Colt grinned, leaning in close to her. Silas could smell the alcohol on his breath, the scent nearly enough to knock a full grown buffalo unconscious with a single blast.

"Liquid Ambrosia."

"Colt, I think it's time you all quit drinking and head to bed. I'll keep watch." Silas urged.

"Watch for what?" Comanche snapped as he walked over, his naked torso covered in streaks of wood ash and lines painted with the same ash across his face.

"The rabid." Silas stated, trying hard to hold on to his patience when what he wanted to do was throw these two men into the tiny cellar and leave them there until the liquor wore off.

Colt laughed. "The rabid" he imitated in a deep, gravely voice. "Silas needs to stop being so serious."

Colt took another swig of whiskey and Silas let out a long sigh and rubbed his neck. "You don't think the rabid are anything to worry about then?" he questioned.

Colt shook his head and made a big point of flourishing his arm toward the wooden slats across the door. "I locked the door." He leaned close again and laughed. "Relax. Have some fun. I'm about to see if I can get the drunk injun to battle the sofa next."

"I could fight it." Comanche agreed with a curt nod before taking the whiskey bottle from Colt and downing what was left. Colt jerked the bottle away and let out a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a giggle as he tipped it upside down.

"Damn you, Comanche. You drank the last damn drop!"

"Alright, since the whiskey's gone let's get you three to bed." Silas urged. He was sure that they were actually going to listen to him until a knock came to the door.

"Shit!" Colt exclaimed, followed by a fast laugh. "Those damn rabid sure are polite nowadays! They knock and everything."

"Let it in." Comanche urged, clenching his fists and throwing back his shoulders. "I will fight it."

Colt nudged Silas in the gut with his elbow. "See what did I tell you? That drunk bastard will fight anything!"

Silas nodded and then grabbed Colt's revolver from the holster. "Hey now! What are you doing with that? Don't you know you gotta ask 'fore ya just grab a man's piece." Colt waggled his eyebrows and Silas saw Charlotte blush furiously. He grunted and nudged Colt back, causing the other man to stumble and simply laugh even more loudly.

"Are y'all in there!?" Frankie's voice suddenly called from outside the locked door.

"Ai! Ai! Ai! Ai!" Comanche called out loudly. He leapt over the sofa and ran to the door, shoving aside the wooden boards and jerking the door open in a rush.

Silas's eyes widened when a stream of words, spoken in a language that Silas did not understand flew from Comanche's lips. Silas pushed his way past Comanche, trying hard to ignore Colt's laughter. For a quiet, hard man he sure did loosen up and get awfully annoying when he had whiskey in his blood.

"Frankie, are you injured?" Silas demanded as he took in the sight of her being held in this new giant of a man's arms. She looked pale and he was sure that was blood soaking her dark shirt.

"Yep. My horse threw me and then this woman decided it would be a good idea to shoot me."

Another loud burst of laughter from Colt followed that admission and Comanche slashed his hand through the air in a cutting motion. "I will kill her. No one hurts my paleface."

"I ain't your paleface and why the devil is Colt laughing...... Are they drunk?!"

"As a skunk!" Colt agreed with a nod as he walked up and laid his arm on Silas's shoulder, leaning against the other man. He let out a low whistle and looked up and up and up some more at the face of the man holding Frankie. "Damn, you are one big son of a bitch!"

"I can take him." Comanche growled as he held up his hands in a boxing stance. "Bare fisted."

Silas rolled his eyes and then a quiet feminine voice came from behind the big man. "Ox... Ox I need to lie down...." A woman stepped around and just as quickly her eyes rolled back and she fell forward. Silas was going to catch her but Colt beat him to it. He caught her in his arms and lifted her up, cradling her against his chest, the same as the big man was holding Frankie.

"Ain't she a pretty one." Colt whispered and Silas frowned. Pretty? She was pale and seemed half dead with dark circles around her eyes, colorless lips and a tangle of dark hair. Her skin was coated with dirt and sweat, her pink blouse and brown skirt were ripped, tattered and stained. The tall man looked much the same, only with better color to his face. It was clear these two had been wandering for a long while.

The doctor's son in Silas roared to life and he quickly stepped back to allow the big man to enter. "My name is Silas." He said.

"Ox." The big man replied and he glared over at Colt. "And my mama wasn't no bitch and that's my damn sister you're holding that way."

"Would ya rather me drop her on the floor?" Colt asked with a grin and Ox shook his head quickly.

"No, please don't."

"We have one spare room left, Colt, carry her up there and I will be there as soon as I see to Frankie." Silas ordered.

"He can't be alone in a room with my sister." Ox argued.

"Hey now, I'm just about the most trustworthy man you'll ever meet." Colt countered, though the sloppy grin never left his face. He used his finger to gently smooth some of the sleeping girl's hair from her face and she moaned and curled herself around him.

"It's true." Katherine spoke up from the chair. "He's similar to a saint or a goddamned monk."

Silas glanced over at her just in time to see her raise from the chair and then vomit on the wooden floor boards at her feet. He shook his head and went about securing the door.

"You know a wild drinking binge is probably not real smart right now." Frankie scolded and Ox nodded, obviously in agreement as he glanced around. Silas spared a glance at Comanche whose nostrils were flared, his eyes looking wild and somehow more intense with all that dark ash surrounding them.

"I still say I can take him."

"Why does the indian want to hurt me?" Ox questioned, sounding almost nervous. Silas shook his head.

"Because he is a drunk fool. Now let's get Frankie to a bed and see how badly her wounds are."

Frankie snorted, though she looked awfully comfortable in Ox's arms. "It would be damn decent of you all."

***

Charlotte wasn't sure where to start! Colt was upstairs in a room alone with an unconscious woman and still hadn't come back down. Silas and the new big man, Ox, were busy in Comanche's room with Comanche standing over them threatening everyone that moved, (and even a few things that didn't), and tending to Frankie, Grace was beginning to whimper in her room causing Charlotte's breasts to throb in response and on top of all of that, Katherine was sobbing and vomiting, though at least now she was doing so into a bucket instead of adding to the puddle on the floor.

What should Charlotte tend to first?

Seeing as how Grace was not yet screaming, Charlotte would see to Katherine first. "Come on now, let's get you to bed, Katherine."

"Why doesn't anyone love me?" Katherine cried as she looked up at Charlotte with sadness filling her eyes. Charlotte sighed, knowing the woman's drink clouded mind was responsible for the current conversation.

"I'm sure someone loves you, Katherine." Charlotte whispered as she helped the woman to her feet, and picked up the bucket.

"You have Silas. Frankie has Comanche. Why can't Colt love me?"

"Perhaps you should just have patience." Charlotte replied comfortingly as she struggled to help Katherine up the stairs. Katherine's legs were shaking and she seemed more concerned with throwing her head back and cursing her bad luck than focusing on the task at hand.

"He's made it clear he doesn't want me. He tells me I deserve a good man and yet he's not willing to be that man!" Katherine complained, before veering sideways and nearly taking them both over the stair railing before Charlotte managed to right them.

"Let's just get you to bed, Katherine and it will all look better in the morning."

Charlotte cried out with shock when they reached the top of the stairs and Katherine let out a whimper before losing consciousness and falling to the floor.

"Help!" Charlotte called out and the big man came into the hall just before Silas joined him. Silas's hands were covered in blood and Charlotte felt her stomach roll.

"Is Frankie hurt bad?" she gasped and Sials shook his head.

"Not too bad, Miss Charlotte."

"Is she okay?" Ox asked looking down at Katherine who was splayed across the floor, her hair a wild mess and a bit of drool on her chin.

"She passed out and I can't carry her." Charlotte replied and Ox nodded. He picked Katherine up as if she weighed nothing and Charlotte marveled at the size of him. Easily seven feet, if not more, and solid muscle. "I'll lead you to her room." She said, shaking her head. "I have too much to do to be dealing with this."

***

It was only a couple of hours before dawn when Silas finally collapsed into the bed beside a sleeping Charlotte and Grace.

He knew that Charlotte had only gotten to bed a short while before himself and so he didn't disturb her, simply gazed at her as she slumbered peacefully.

God love that woman. She had tucked Katherine into bed, cleaned the vomit from her face and then the sitting room floor. She had then tended to Evangeline, cleaning the woman's face and neck and making her as comfortable as she could in the bed, though she had told Silas that Evangeline had never once awaken and seemed to be more than just a little exhausted.

Then Charlotte had gathered up all the bloody and dirty towels and rags from the house and carried them into the hall closet to be washed in the morning before coming up and seeing to Grace. Charlotte seemed to be born to tend to others and Silas found that a natural endearing quality.

Frankie was going to be just fine but she wouldn't be walking without crutches for a good week or two. She hadn't broken her leg but she had stubbed it up real good and sprained her ankle. Silas knew that he'd have a hard time crafting crutches for the woman but it would have to be done. The bullet wound had been barely more than a graze and hadn't needed many stitches. Comanche had been passed out in the chair beside Frankie's bed when Silas had left and it was clear the indian wasn't going to wake up until well into the day.

Colt had at least managed to get himself to his own bed though he kept mumbling about the pretty girl and laughing about crazy drunk injuns.

Silas truly hoped this was a one-time occurrence with the whiskey because he wasn't too sure that he and Charlotte had the energy to deal with it all again.

Deciding to get what little sleep he could before the house woke up, Silas curled up to his sleeping ladies and let himself drift away.