Warnings: Violence, mild language. Rated PG.

Thanks to: Thanks, Katie, for all your hard work and wonderful suggestions that helped bring the story together.

Chris Larabee settled back against the rough outer wall of the sheriff's office and gazed over the town. Men and women moved past him, intently minding their own business. A few people nodded a greeting, but most avoided looking into his eyes. A grim smile played over his face. He knew the reputation he carried with the townsfolk. His ‘dark past’ kept the busybodies away, and he enjoyed the privacy that afforded him.

It was early afternoon; the sun warmed the day despite the promising touch of autumn in the air. Cool breezes hid just beneath the heat, offering relief. Chris straightened and stretched his back from the slumped position he’d held for too long. He pulled the straw he’d been chewing from between his teeth and flicked it into the street.

He looked up as a plume of dust appeared in the distance. The stage came into view. The coach thundered into town and stopped near the front of the hotel. Jingling harnesses and whiffing breaths filled the air as the horses stomped and shook their manes.

The driver climbed atop the stage to untie and pull down the luggage. Four passengers disembarked. An older couple climbed stiffly down, the gentleman helping the lady, and two younger men exited. Chris noticed one of the new arrivals glance around, spy the hotel, and make a beeline for the front door. The stranger’s weary-slumped shoulders made him appear older than his years. The man’s head hung low as he hurried across the street.

The other young man watched his fellow traveler leave as he slowly removed his own hat. Fine yellow dust coated the shoulders of his expensive suit. He pulled out a handkerchief and disdainfully swiped the offending powder away. His nose wrinkled in disgust. He dabbed the cloth around his mouth before tucking it into his sleeve. His dark hair was cut short in back and long bangs were combed straight back from his high forehead. He looked around himself. His gaze caught on Chris. His eyes widened before he looked away.

Chris frowned. People usually avoided eye contact for one of two reasons: fear, or guilt.

He narrowed his stare as he took in the stranger, measuring him up and filing him away. The young man had the attire of a businessman. Exactly what kind of business would that be? The question floated in Chris’ mind. He watched the well-dressed man pick up his luggage - two pieces of genuine leather cases, by the look of them -- and follow the other young man toward the hotel. The older couple soon followed.

"Fancy duds."

Chris turned and acknowledged JD as the young man walked up beside him. "He’s not much fancier than some others around here." He looked pointedly up and down JD's suit and turned back to survey the road.

He heard JD snort. "I may have looked like that when I first rode in, but things have changed a bit since then."

Chris remained silent and next to him, JD shuffled his feet. Chris wanted to smile, but instead he kept the stoic mask in place. No chinks in the armor allowed.

"Wonder where he's from?"

"Why don't you go ask him?" He turned and caught the look of surprise on JD's face.

"Well -- why not? I'm part of the law, so it's my duty to meet strangers who come into town, right?"

Chris sensed JD was working up his courage. "Yep."

"All right then." The youth nodded to himself. He adjusted his jacket then stepped off the boardwalk to cross the street.

Chris finally allowed a smile and shook his head, remembering what it felt like to be young and reckless. Hell, he was old and reckless -- was there really much of a difference?

<><><><><><><><><><>

JD entered the hotel and instantly caught sight of the stranger. His fancy clothes set him apart from his plain surroundings. JD found himself looking down at his own dusty jacket. A sudden burst of self-conscious awareness stole his courage. He almost turned around and left. Knowing that Chris was outside, no doubt watching for him to return and tell the older man what he thought of the fancy traveler, helped him regain his self-confidence. With a quick adjustment to his hat, he stepped forward.

"Afternoon."

His friendly greeting was ignored. JD cleared his throat loudly. "Welcome to Four Corners." The stranger finally turned his way and JD stuck out his hand, offering a shake. "I’m JD Dunne."

"Are you now."

The cold statement brought back all his insecurities. JD withdrew his hand to wipe his suddenly sweaty palm down his side.

"I’m Mr. William Bradford the Third," the pompous man continued. He let his gaze travel slowly from the top of JD’s bowler down to his dusty boots and sniffed. "I’m here on business and won’t be staying long, but thank you for the . . . greeting. Are you the welcoming committee?"

"No." Uncertainty seeped away to be replaced by aggravated ire. JD struggled to keep a pleasant expression on his face. "I’m the law here."

"You?" A smile played on Mr. Bradford’s thin lips. He lifted his hand to his mouth to hide his expression.

"Yeah." Righteous anger quickly took hold. JD couldn’t help but reach down and rest both hands on the guns that hung against his hips. "I ain’t alone, though. I’ve got six partners."

"Six?" The amused grin disappeared. JD narrowed his eyes with suspicion.

"Just to let you know there’s no need to worry while you’re in Four Corners. This town has plenty of protection."

"Quite." Bradford lifted his hand to include the older couple who was waiting off to the side. "Why don’t you use your formidable welcoming skills on this lovely couple. They also just arrived in town."

With a frown, Bradford turned to the counter and retrieved his key from the manager then glanced back at JD. "If you’re finished, then, Mr. Dunne?"

JD nodded, unsure what else to do. Bradford made a quick gesture to the manager and moved to the stairs. The hapless man scrambled to carry Mr. Bradford’s luggage and follow him. JD stood in the middle of the room for an instant, a bit dazed with the strange conversation he’s just been a part of. A replay of Bradford’s worried expression when he’d heard there were seven lawmen in town flashed through his memory. JD tightened his fingers around his guns. He didn’t trust William Bradford the Third. Not one bit.

With a strained nod of greeting to the waiting couple, JD left the hotel. Two steps out, he ran into Buck.

"Afternoon, JD. Where you goin’ in such a hurry?"

"Nowhere. Just met some rich guy that rode into town on the stage."

"And?"

"He’s nothing but a spoiled rich brat from the looks and sound of him." JD’s glare deepened. He reached up to pull his hat farther down over his eyes.

"Oh yeah? Kinda like the little brat that followed a bunch of men to a certain Seminole village, huh?"

"No, he’s not – hey!" He turned to the chuckling man and shoved him hard. "I ain’t never been like that!"

Buck stumbled and caught himself against a pole. He grinned at JD. "I wouldn’t say ‘never been’, son. When you rode into town with your fancy duds and guns, that’s exactly what we took you for."

"But this is different. I don’t trust Mr. William Bradford the Third."

Buck straightened up and fell into step beside JD. "Who?"

JD jerked his thumb behind him. "The rich guy."

"Why don’t you trust him?"

"I don’t know." The younger man shrugged. "Just a feelin’ I got is all."

"Well, you let me know if it develops into something more serious. Afterall, it takes one spoiled rich brat to spot another one." He easily sidestepped the hit JD aimed for his arm and turned into the saloon. "See ya later, kid."

With another glare, JD walked away, his mind on William Bradford, The Third.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Later that afternoon, JD walked into the supply store. He was surprised to see Bradford. The well-dressed man was wandering among the goods. He looked up when JD stepped inside the store. He smiled widely and tipped his hat. JD grinned awkwardly in return. Now he wants to be friendly?

The manager, Mr. Olsen, greeted JD, and JD told him what he needed. He turned away and JD continued to watch Bradford from the corner of his eye. Another man entered the store and walked directly to the tack supplies stacked high in one corner. JD watched as Bradford casually moved toward the man and stood near him.

Shock froze his feet to the floor when Bradford reached out and deftly lifted the man’s wallet from his back pocket. JD was opening his mouth to say something when Bradford tapped the man on the shoulder and offered him his own money back.

"Excuse me, sir. I believe you dropped this."

The older man accepted the wallet with hearty thanks, pumping Bradford’s hand as if he were a long-lost friend. Bradford turned and smiled at JD. He winked. Fury erupted in JD when he realized the predicament he was in. If he accused Bradford of stealing the wallet, he’d look like a fool.

"Is this what you wanted, JD?"

JD ignored the manager. He turned and left, too distraught and confused to answer the man.

He waited a few feet down from the supply store, pacing back and forth on the boardwalk. Bradford finally exited the small building. JD rushed over to him.

"I saw what you did." He kept his voice low, still too nervous for a public confrontation without some kind of proof.

"I know." Bradford flicked imagery dust from his sleeve and gazed out at the street, refusing to meet JD’s glare.

"I want you out of town by tomorrow. As early as possible."

Bradford turned and faced JD. The young man noticed the total lack of fear or distress in the thief’s eyes. "I don’t think so. I’ll leave on my own time, young man."

JD pressed forward but Bradford held firm. "I’ll lock you up so fast you won’t know what hit you."

The threat seemed to whisper past Bradford without any reaction. "You don’t know who you’re talking to, Mr. Dunne. My father is representative for the great state of Colorado and a good friend of the President. William Bradford the Second. Perhaps you’ve heard of him? You don’t want to get involved in something you can’t handle -- boy."

Anger seethed through JD. He stepped closer until his face was inches from Bradford’s. "You forget – I’m not alone."

"Ah, yes." Bradford took a step back and looked down at his shoes. "Your partners, I forgot." He looked up and smiled, then abruptly moved forward as a glare erupted on his face. "It wouldn’t do for something to happen to one of them, would it? Take, for instance, Mr. Tanner. He’s a wanted man, I hear. A simple telegram would have the law rushing here, eager to capture the murderer. And I’m sure there are other . . . ‘vices’ I could uncover. Perhaps Mr. Standish? No doubt in his many gambling exploits he’s left behind a few disgruntled customers who question his techniques as less than honorable. And I hear Mr. Wilmington has quite a taste for the ladies. Wonder how many husbands he’s left behind, more than willing to extract revenge for leading their wives astray? "

JD’s mouth dropped open. He stared at the changed man in front of him.

Bradford moved back and adjusted one of his cuff links. "Just so we understand one another, Mr. Dunne." And he left.

JD stood in the middle of the boardwalk for a moment, trying to understand what had just happened. The small problem of a rich thief in town suddenly didn’t seem so important next to the threat of Vin being captured, or any of the other men getting hurt. His small world suddenly seemed very threatened.

Realizing he was drawing attention to himself, JD moved from the boardwalk and headed for the saloon. He needed time to think.

<><><><><><><><><><>

"You look like a man with something on his mind."

JD looked up when he heard Chris’ voice. He had retreated to the sheriff’s office, hoping for some peace and quiet to think after spending several pointless hours in the noisy saloon. Swinging his feet down from the desk, JD frowned and reached up to touch his hat.

"Just thinkin’ is all."

Chris stepped farther into the room. He closed the door, then walked quietly to the window. Leaning against the wall, he trained his stare outside on the people walking by. Dusk colored the sky warm orange and silhouetted his profile. "What about?"

Surprised at Chris’ interest, JD stood and joined him on the opposite side of the window. He, too, looked out at the town, avoiding eye contact with the older man.

"The stranger in town."

"The fancy dresser?"

"Yeah." Unsure of his suspicions, JD ducked his head and turned back to the desk. "I saw him do something and I’m not sure what to do about it."

"Was it illegal?"

JD looked up sharply, shocked at Chris’ uncanny line of questioning. The dark clad gunslinger still had his face turned to the window. Chris’ slumped shoulders gave the deceptive view of a relaxed attitude, but JD knew he was always alert. He leaned against the desk and mimicked Chris’ posture.

"I saw him take someone’s wallet."

Finally, Chris shifted and turned to face him. "What did you do?"

Frustration sprang fresh in his chest and JD moved away from the desk and paced. "There wasn’t nothing I could do. He gave the wallet back and made it look like he’d found it. The man he’d stolen it from thanked him like he’d been given a gold mine."

JD stopped pacing and looked up at Chris. "He told me he’s a representative’s son. Does that mean we can’t touch him?"

Chris stood up straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. "What’s the man’s name?"

"William Bradford the Third." JD was disappointed when he saw surprised recognition in Chris’ face.

"William Bradford. He’s Colorado’s representative. I know him."

"You know him?"

"Well – I heard about him. Supposed to be a good man."

"His son’s not."

JD’s snort of disgust brought Chris’ attention back to the younger man. Chris nodded. "I’ll talk to him."

"Chris." The warning note in JD’s voice drew the air tight around them. "He knows about Vin. When I told him to leave tomorrow on the stage, he told me he knew Vin was wanted. He said he could bring the law in and he mentioned other things, threatening to break us all up. I believe he could do it."

Chris pressed his lips together, his expression growing hard.

"I’ll talk to him, JD."

JD felt as if half his burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Chris knew, now. Chris would take care of it. Breathing an inward sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and swallowed, then opened his eyes to find Chris standing by the door. After nodding his thanks and watching the older man leave, JD sank into the chair behind the sheriff’s desk. The sooner Bradford left town, the better.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Dammit! Dark thoughts swirled through his mind as Chris crossed the street. He glared out from under his low hat brim, barely acknowledging the people he passed. The hair on the back of his neck pricked and itched as if he were being watched. He resisted turning to look, knowing the feeling was just a shadow of the real fear in his heart.

His boots thumped hollowly against wooden boards when he reached the sidewalk. Quick, long strides took him to the saloon. Buck’s lilting voice rose from the corner. A glance showed the lady’s man had his hands full with one of the girls. At one of the tables, Ezra entertained a small crowd with his gambling abilities. A quick visual sweep of the room revealed none of the other seven, and with an impatient grunt, Chris left.

He made a sudden decision and headed for the hotel. The entranceway and front counter was empty. Thick carpeting muted his heavy steps as Chris moved across the room and stood at the door of the small restaurant connected to the hotel. Crystal clinks of silverware on china played beneath the soft mumbling of voices in the room. Bradford sat alone at one of the corner tables, a half empty plate in front of him. His attention was centered on the newspaper in his hands. Chris walked over.

When he sensed another’s presence, Bradford looked up. Chris kept the grin of satisfaction off his face when he saw shocked surprise and just a touch of fear in the man’s expression.

He grabbed the back of the chair sitting opposite Bradford and swung it around to straddle. "Mind if I join you?"

Amusement replaced the shock and Bradford put his paper aside. "Not at all. I can guess what you have on your mind, Mr. Larabee."

With practiced ease, Chris kept the anxiety that twisted his gut from showing on his face. "Seems you know me already."

"I make it a point to know the law in town, sir, and from what I’ve learned, you are the law."

Chris shrugged. "One of many."

"So I hear. I assume you have talked to Mr. Dunne?" Without waiting for an answer, Bradford continued, his tone becoming more condescending with each word. Chris felt his hackles rise. "Then you must know who I am. My father is –"

"I know who your father is." Chris folded his arms across the top of the chair and leaned forward, lowering his voice to a gravely pitch. "Too bad you’re not more like him."

Bradford’s eyes narrowed and a white line of tension formed across the top of his lips when he pressed them together. "You will remember who I am, Mr. Larabee."

"If you mean I will remember who your father is, you’re mistaken there, Mr. Third. No matter who you belong to, when you’re in my town, you will obey the law."

Bradford’s eyes widened in an obvious display of surprise. "Oh? And have I broken the law?"

"I have a witness who said you stole a wallet."

"Wallet? Witness? Who, pray tell, is this witness? And why would I – a representative’s son – be interested in stealing? I have no need to pilfer the measly belongings of common citizens."

Chris swallowed the anger that pushed at him to stand up and shout in this pompous fool’s face. Either Bradford had the guts it took for a man to survive in the west, or he was very stupid.

"You have till tomorrow, Bradford." Chris stood up and swung his leg around, then set the chair right.

Bradford, too, stood. After wiping his mouth with his cloth napkin, he dropped it disdainfully to the tabletop. "When you have proof that I’ve done something wrong, or that I present some kind of danger in your perfect little town, then I will leave." Touching the tips of his fingers to his forehead, Bradford tilted his head toward Chris. "I’d be more worried about your own men, Mr. Larabee, rather than wasting your time with me. I feel changes stirring in the air, don’t you? Good night, sir."

Without a backward glance, the man was gone.

Chris stood for a moment, blinking in disbelief. His gut told him to call the man out now, challenge him and beat him in a fair fight. But by all outward appearances, William Bradford the Third was a gentlemen. He’d have the town on his side if Chris called him out with no proof. Chris needed that proof. He needed something to hold over the man to balance out his threat.

Anger left a bitter after-taste in his mouth. His unease concerning Vin’s safety and the rest of the Seven boiled in his stomach. Determination tightening his jaw, Chris left the restaurant and headed for the telegraph office.

<><><><><><><><><><>

The office was empty but for the man behind the counter, the room darkening with the coming night. A chill misted the air after the day’s heat. Chris shivered slightly. He sent a terse message to Judge Travis and left for the jail after telling the telegraph operator where he could be found.

When Chris entered the small room, Vin stood slumped against the sheriff’s desk, his hat brim low over his eyes. The tracker nodded without speaking. Chris moved over to the coffeepot that sat warming atop the pot-bellied stove. He poured some of the steaming black liquid into a tin cup and lifted it to his lips, but spoke before taking a sip.

"Where you been all day?"

Vin straightened and stretched then pulled his elbows back to loosen his shoulders. "Been around. You need something?"

"Might. Some strangers came in on the stage."

"I heard."

Chris glanced up and noticed Vin had moved over to stand in the shadows by the window. His wide hat brim created more shadows that poured darkness in a curving line across Vin’s upper lip.

"I wired the judge."

Vin nodded. "Maybe I should make myself scarce for a few days, wait till he leaves and things get back to normal."

"He’ll be gone by tomorrow if he knows what’s good for him."

Vin held still for an instant. Chris took another sip of his coffee. He watched as the younger man shook his head and moved from the wall to stand in front of him. "I shouldn’t be here, Chris."

The warmth of his drink turned to ice in his belly. Chris slowly set the cup on the corner of the desk. He avoided looking at his friend, afraid he hadn’t pulled the mask down in time. "Where should you be?"

"Tascosa. I shoulda left a long time ago. Then none of you would have to worry about some bounty hunter or anyone else comin’ into town and shakin’ things up."

Chris shrugged and finally turned to face Vin. "Suit yourself." He picked up his cup and moved back to the stove. "But it’s more than just you he’s threatening, Vin. And Tascosa ain’t goin’ nowhere."

Vin didn’t comment. Chris poured himself another cup before joining the tracker next to the window. "Wait till we hear from the judge." His voice had grown soft and Chris struggled to keep any emotion from ringing through. "We may be making a mountain out of a molehill here."

Vin glanced at him and nodded, then smiled. "Meanwhile, you planning on drinkin’ up all that coffee?"

Chris pressed his lips together in what he hoped passed for a smile and gestured with his chin back toward the coffeepot. "Help yourself. Might as well wait with me here for word from the judge."

The two men stood and watched darkness descend over the town. Worry crowded the room, but only the sound of sipping coffee broke the silence.

The next afternoon, Bradford strolled slowly down the main street of Four Corners, tipping his hat to the ladies and enjoying the looks of interest he was garnering. He paused when he stepped in front of a glass window. With the pretense of perusing the merchandise inside, he studied his reflection. Impeccable, as always. Hair neatly combed and groomed, suit freshly pressed. Yes, he did present an impressive figure indeed.

A familiar face played against the glass. Bradford turned to watch as JD Dunne met a young lady on the boardwalk across the street. She was pretty, if a bit unpolished. Judging by the look of open adoration on Mr. Dunne’s face, she was someone of importance to the young man. Seeing an opportunity for some fun, Bradford hid his gleeful smile and stepped off the boardwalk to cross the street.

<><><><><><><><><><>

"Mr. Dunne."

JD’s smile disappeared with the voice. He turned to find William Bradford standing at his elbow, his eyes on Casey.

"I don’t believe I’ve met your lovely friend."

Casey grinned and coyly lowered her eyes. JD bristled with displeasure. He wanted to stand in front of Casey and shield her from the thief, but stopped before his actions made him look ridiculous.

"JD? Aren’t you going to introduce us?" Confusion lifted Casey’s eyebrows. She looked to JD for an explanation.

"Oh. Uh – Casey Wells, this is –"

"Mr. William Bradford the Third, my dear lady." A stiff elbow shoved him aside. JD shifted awkwardly when Bradford pushed past him to take Casey’s hand. The man brushed his lips softly against Casey’s knuckles. JD barely refrained from rolling his eyes when Casey’s face took on a look of astonished pleasure.

"Nice to meet you. I’m Casey."

"Casey." Bradford paused, closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose. He looked down at Casey. "A name sweet to all the senses."

JD had enough. He roughly broke between the two. Casey yipped as her hand was torn from Bradford’s grasp. "JD!"

"Sorry. I tripped."

"You must be more careful, Mr. Dunne."

Bradford’s gallant demeanor grated against JD’s nerves. He reached up to straighten his jacket, then took Casey’s arm. He touched his hat brim and steered the girl away. "Mr. Bradford."

Bradford nodded his own farewell. "I hope to see you again, Casey."

"Over my dead body."

"JD!" Casey jerked her arm out of his grasp and stood with her hands on her hips. "Why are you being so rude?"

"Obviously, Miss Wells, Mr. Dunne sees me as a threat. I’m sorry to have bothered you." With a jaunty touch to his forehead, Bradford turned on his heel and left.

"What’s gotten into you?"

JD ducked his head. "I’m sorry, Casey. I just – I can’t –." Confusion twisted his tongue. He wanted so bad to tell Casey why he’d been overly protective. Bradford presented himself as the perfect gentleman.

A heavy sigh brought his head up to find a tolerant smile on Casey’s face. "You were jealous."

"I wasn’t jealous!"

Casey turned and walked away, a wide smile across her gentle face. "Were too." The words were just loud enough for him to hear. JD shrugged his shoulders. Better that she think him jealous than not believe him at all.

He turned and headed for the jail. If he could catch Bradford red-handed, then maybe he’d have the proof to run the man out of town. All it took was a little planning.

<><><><><><><><><><>

The door to the sheriff’s office opened, and the telegraph operator stuck his head in. "Mr. Larabee?"

Chris walked over and took the slip of paper offered. He nodded his thanks, and the man left.

"Word from the judge?"

"Yeah." He paused a moment to read the message. "Bradford’s been arrested eight times, but never convicted of anything."

"Maybe we’ll get lucky this time."

"I wouldn’t be too sure about that."

"Why?"

Chris looked up to find Vin watching him from where the tracker stood leaning against the far wall. "Judge says not to touch him. He advises we wire Bradford Senior and tell the Representative what his son’s been up to. I have the feeling the representative holds something over Travis’ head."

"Well hell, that could take a week."

"Yep. But I’ll be damned if I let that city feller run around town threatening us till then." He crumbled up the thin piece of paper and tossed it onto the sheriff’s desk.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I got half a mind to throw him in jail and keep him there till I hear from Mr. Bradford himself."

Vin chuckled. "Don’t think Mr. High and Mighty would enjoy that too much, now would he?"

Chris shook his head, a dangerous grin playing on his dark face. "I’m heading over to the telegraph office. You comin’?"

Chris picked up his hat and put it on. The two men moved to leave just as JD opened the door and stumbled in.

"Where’s the fire, kid?"

JD straightened his jacket and nodded at Chris. "I wanted to talk to you about Bradford. Can’t I come forward as a witness and testify I saw him take that money?"

The older man shook his head. "It’s too risky. We need hard proof before we accuse this man of anything or he’ll just come forward with his information about Vin." He held up his hand when JD opened his mouth to protest. "Not yet, JD. We can’t move too soon on this."

JD moved aside, allowing Chris and Vin by him, then dropped into the desk chair.

Hard proof. Chris’ words echoed in his head and started him thinking. He glanced toward the window and noticed darkness descending over the town. It wouldn’t take but a few minutes to go through Bradford’s room. The confidence that he could find something incriminating overrode the uneasy thought of going through someone else’s things. He pushed himself out of the chair and left the office to head for the hotel before he could talk himself out of his plan.

<><><><><><><><><><>

There’s got to be something here, dammit! Ignoring the feeling of guilt he had from going through another person’s belongings without permission, JD continued to search Bradford’s room. He’d checked first and made sure the man was nowhere around before nervously sneaking the key from behind the counter downstairs and slipping into the suspected thief’s room.

The man’s set of leather luggage stood in a neat row near one corner of the room. After clenching his hands in nervous indecision for a moment, JD decided not to search through them. Instead, he busied himself by opening all the drawers in the bureau and checking the wardrobe that sat in one corner. Fancy clothes neatly hung and starched handkerchiefs and underwear were all he found.

Frustrated and beginning to feel a little foolish, JD stood in the middle of the room and tried to think. Maybe he’s got it stashed somewhere else. Then he snorted out loud at his own thoughts. "Stashed what?" Well, maybe he hasn’t gotten what he came for yet. The new thought surprised him and he began to wonder what kind a wealth a frontier town like Four Corners could offer.

Ezra! The name flashed through him quick as lightening and JD suddenly had a plan. If he could think of the gambler as a potential target, surely Bradford would too.

A heartbeat later, JD made his decision and quickly left the hotel. He made his way across town to the saloon where Ezra rented a room. H hurried through the loud main area to the stairs at the back.

He rounded the corner of the second floor hallway and froze. Bradford’s hunched form stood crouched in front of Ezra’s room. Surely Ezra wasn’t there. In his mad dash through the saloon on his way to the stairs, JD had failed to notice if the gambler was sitting at his usual table.

Bradford stuck something into the door’s keyhole and fiddled with the doorknob. JD stretched forward a bit to try and make out what the thief was using. Bradford’s back blocked his view. After a moment, the door opened, and Bradford quietly entered Ezra’s room.

Dang, now what? JD stood in the hall, frozen with indecision. His choices left him little time for debate. He couldn’t decide on a plan of action. If he left to find one of the other men so they could catch Bradford red-handed, he took the chance of the thief getting away with Ezra’s money and leaving town before they could catch him. If he just jumped him now on his own it would still be his word against Bradford’s.

His decision was made suddenly when he heard Ezra’s indignant shout from inside the dark room.

"What the hell? Who’s there --?"

A loud thump followed by muffled noises of a struggle made JD turn quickly and rush into the room without thinking. He’d barely taken two steps when darkness blinded him. He turned back to the door and the welcome rectangle of light but his escape route suddenly slammed shut, enveloping him in consuming black.

A breath of movement rushed by him in the darkness. "Ezra? Dammit!" JD threw his arms out to protect himself. "Bradford!" His shout brought no response and JD began to panic.

Sounds of movement and someone’s heavy breathing were magnified by his blindness. No moon and a cloudy sky offered absolute blackness from the lone window in the hotel room. He shifted backwards until he bumped into a wall. Feeling frantically up and down the papered wood, he searched for the door and couldn't keep frustrated sounds from squeezing out of his throat. He should have never come here without telling Buck or Chris or somebody what he was doing.

Distress set his heart to racing. He realized the bumps and thumps he made telegraphed his location to Bradford. Pulling a calming breath in through his nose, he nearly yelped with joy when his hand brushed against the doorknob. He tightened his fingers around the rounded metal just as a white stab of heat erupted in his side. He squeezed his eyes shut and grunted in surprised pain.

Red lights flashed behind his closed eyelids. He slumped against the wall, then slid helplessly to the floor. Groping with one hand, his questing fingers found an object protruding from the right side of his belly near his hipbone. He cried out when renewed torment skewered through him.

The door he lay near opened and yellow lamplight cut through the darkness. Bold piano music sounding tinny with distance played in the background from the saloon on the first floor beneath him.

Bradford stood over him, his handsome face white with shock and fear. "I told you to keep away from what you couldn’t handle, Mr. Dunne. Now you've gone and gotten yourself killed, I'm afraid. More's the pity."

Without another word, the thief stepped over him and disappeared down the hall. JD reached out one hand toward his retreating form, a moan his only call for help, but Bradford didn't stop.

Bringing his attention back to the throbbing pull in his side, JD tucked his chin against his chest and peered down at his body. An icepick stuck incongruously through the material of his vest. A small round stain of blood marred his clothes. He pressed his fingers carefully against the wound, nearly passing out as the pain intensified.

A low moan startled him. He tried to prop himself up on one elbow to see better into the room. Pain shocked through him, and he dropped back to the floor, but not before he saw Ezra’s crumbled form beside the bed.

"Ezra?" His voice was too weak to carry far. JD groaned in frustration.

An eternity passed in his mind. He imagined his funeral and his friends standing around his casket. Heads lowered, the six men paid sad homage to his passing. He cried out to them, but they couldn't hear him.

The vision left him feeling weightless, and he pressed his hand to his side again. The familiar pain of the injury cut through the disconnected dream. He groaned.

Light from the hallway lay halfway across him. He lifted his head to look behind himself down the long corridor. Surely someone would come along and help him. He hadn’t heard anything else from Ezra. Worry gnawed at him, eating away his strength.

He bent his knees and slid his feet slowly toward his buttocks, then pushed. Tension through his belly disturbed the icepick. He groaned and clutched at the wound protectively. The thin hotel carpeting offered little resistance. He slid out of the darkness of the room into the brightly-lit hallway. Relaxing for a moment, he rolled to his uninjured side. He tried not to panic when he realized how fast he was succumbing to the pain. The real danger of bleeding to death so close to his friends before someone could find him nearly froze his breath in his throat.

Distant footsteps signaled someone's arrival. He held perfectly still, suddenly terrified that Bradford had come back to finish the job.

JD sighed in relief when Chris' shocked voice called to him from down the hall. The sound of running boots thundered through his head.

"Ezra." His voice was little more than a sigh as Chris’ blurry form knelt over him. Darkness reached out for him. He felt his hand fall numbly away from his side just as oblivion took hold. Now he could rest.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Chris knelt beside the unconscious young man and rolled him gently to his back. When he caught sight of the icepick’s wooden handle protruding near JD’s stomach fear shocked through him. He ground his teeth angrily.

Racing footsteps brought his head up and he saw Josiah and Vin running toward them. The two men slid to a halt. Josiah sank to one knee on the other side of JD’s form. "Is he alive?"

"Yeah."

Movement in the room next to them startled them, and the tracker stood quickly and brought his gun up. Ezra wobbled out, one hand pressed to the back of his head, his other hand touched the wall for balance. Vin lowered his gun and reached out to steady the gambler. "You all right?"

"What happened?" Anger tightened Chris’ voice as he looked to Ezra for answers.

"I’m not sure. Someone entered my room uninvited and proceeded to make themselves very unwelcome." He looked down at JD, and his eyes widened. "Good Lord."

"You have any idea who it was?"

Ezra shook his head, then swayed and grabbed the doorframe for support. He closed his eyes and frowned with concentration. "I couldn’t see anything, it was too dark."

Chris’ frustrated growl rumbled around the men and Ezra opened his eyes with an expression of surprise. "But just before I was prematurely put to sleep I heard young Mr. Dunne cry out. He said . . . Bradford."

Ezra winced as he touched the bump on the back of his head again. "Yeah."

"Vin – go find Bradford and bring him in." The tracker nodded grimly and left. "Josiah, you take JD and I’ll get Ezra. We need to get these two to Nathan."

"I believe I can make it on my own, Mr. Larabee. You and Josiah carry JD." Ezra reached back into the room. He pulled his jacket from the back of a chair then rejoined them in the hall. Chris watched as Ezra fumbled to slip his arms into the sleeves.

"You sure?"

The gambler nodded. "Quite."

"All right." The lawman nodded at Josiah. "Let’s take care of JD. Get his feet, I’ve got his shoulders."

Josiah bent down and grabbed JD’s ankles in both hands. He waited for Chris to work his arms under the kid’s back and shoulders. When Chris nodded his readiness, the two men stood slowly. JD’s body draped loosely in their hold. His head slipped sideways to rest against Chris’ chest. Chris tightened his arms around the young man.

"Be careful. Don’t want to move him around too much."

Josiah grunted in answer. Chris looked behind himself as he moved down the hall toward the stairs.

<><><><><><>

They made it to the clinic without incident and placed JD on the bed. Nathan had just bent over the kid as the door slammed open and Buck stormed in.

"Is he all right?" Chris caught Buck and pushed him back.

"Nathan’s looking at him, stay back."

"Let me go, dammit!" Buck struggled for a moment. Rather than getting into a fight, Chris let him go. Buck immediately rushed to Nathan’s side. He stared down in horror at the spreading bloodstain around the weapon in JD’s gut.

"Help me, Buck." Nathan’s tense plea shook him out of his daze. He helped Nathan lift JD and pull off JD’s jacket, then lay him gently back down. Buck cupped the back of his friend’s head. He looked up at Chris.

"Who did this?" Anger strained Buck’s handsome face into tense lines. His other hand shook where it rested on JD.

Ezra stepped forward. "We don’t know for certain." His gaze flickered to Chris then back to Buck. "I heard JD say ‘Bradford’. Vin’s gone after him."

Buck turned to Ezra. "Bradford?"

"We don’t know that for sure, Buck." Chris caught Buck’s attention.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Obvious demand tainted Buck’s voice. Before Chris could answer, the door opened and Vin stepped inside.

"I got ‘em." A grim smile stretched across Vin’s sharp features. He reached up to touch his hat. "He says he didn’t do nothin’, but I got him in jail."

Buck straightened abruptly and shoved his way past Nathan.

"Where you goin’?" A warning flashed in Chris’ eyes as he stepped in front of his friend.

Buck didn’t back down. He moved closer and pushed his anger out with his words. "The jail. I wanna find out for myself if Bradford did this."

"You can’t do that."

"The hell I can’t."

Nathan’s quiet bass called from the other side of the room. "I need some peace and quiet in here. You boys take this outside."

"That’s just where I was goin’." Buck tried to push his way past Chris. The older man stopped him with a hand pressed to Buck’s chest. Chris jerked his chin toward Vin.

"Vin, Ezra, take Buck outside and hold him there."

"What --?"

Vin and Ezra moved to either side of Buck and Chris dropped his hand. "Don’t let him go to the jail."

"You can’t do this!"

Chris moved aside as the other men lead Buck outside, his shouts of anger echoing through the room. Josiah looked back at Chris from where he stood next to Nathan. "They won’t be able to hold him long."

The gunslinger nodded in understanding. "I know. But if Bradford did do this, the last thing we need is for Buck to get to him, that’ll just work things in his favor. We need to wait for word from the judge."

"You boys ready to get to work?" Nathan’s quiet question brought their attention back to JD. Chris moved closer.

"What can I do?"

"Hold him down while I get him ready."

Chris leaned over and pressed his hands to JD’s chest. Josiah retrieved more bandages. "You think he’ll be all right, Nathan?"

Nathan didn’t look up as he continued preparing to cut away JD clothes. "I don’t know yet. I need a better look here."

The room grew silent as Nathan worked on his patient.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Muffled voices, garbled and unrecognizable, filtered through his brain. JD tried to move his head but couldn't. Weakness dragged him down into a waiting pool of darkness that swirled around him, ensconcing him with comfort. A burst of color flashed beneath his lids when something pressed against his stomach and he cried out in distress.

The demand remained in his head; the pathway to his mouth seemed to be blocked and he couldn't find the key to unlock the mystery. More voices mumbled around him, floating on the edge of his consciousness. He tried to lean toward the sound, but his body remained unresponsive.

Frustration warred with fear. He gathered his strength to fight through the shroud of confusion around him.

<><><><><><>

JD groaned. Chris felt the vibrations against his palms where he pressed against the kid's chest.

"Hurry, Nathan, he's coming 'round."

The healer looked up into Chris' face and read the urgency there. He returned his attention to the icepick protruding near JD's belly. The wooden handle moved as the kid breathed. Blood glistened around the thin metal needle.

Working as quickly as he dared, Nathan cut JD's vest and shirt away, then tossed the ruined material on the floor near the kid’s jacket.

The healer put down his scissors and carefully probed around the wound. He pressed his fingertips gently into JD's sweaty flesh. The kid flinched. Muscles under his touch tightened in reaction to pain.

He looked up just as JD blinked open his eyes. For one frozen moment, the injured young man held still. Then JD drew in a deep breath and shouted, shifting on the bed and nearly dislodging Chris' grip. Nathan looked across the room. "Josiah! Help us!"

The big man rushed to the bed and grimly took JD's arms. He gently tugged the limbs above JD's head and held his wrists together. He nodded once toward Nathan. He was ready.

Nathan placed his palm against JD's quivering belly. The kid's ribs stood out in stark relief under stretched skin. His abdominal muscles were rigid with tension, rolling under Nathan’s touch.

The dark man took one breath to steady himself, then gripped the wooden handle -- and pulled. The long sharp needle came away glistening red. A dark bloom of blood bubbled up from the wound. JD struggled in their grip to pull his legs up to protect himself. His screams of pain filled the room. Buck's voice joined in from outside the clinic. Nathan knew Ezra and Vin had their hands full holding Buck. It was best this part was over before all that confusion and activity re-entered the room.

He grabbed a clean handful of bandages and pressed them quickly to the bleeding wound. Applying pressure to JD's abdomen resulted in a low, growling moan from the kid. Nathan cringed. He knew he was doing what was needed to save JD's life, but his heart shrunk with the suffering he caused.

JD arched up from the mattress, strongly protesting the torture he was suffering through. Chris and Josiah held him firm. He was unable to escape.

"Nnnoooo! Stop! Let me – GO, Bradford, you sonofab--!"

His screams added another weight to Nathan's heavy heart, even though he knew it was the pain talking. JD thought Nathan was Bradford. He didn't realize his friends were around him, holding him, helping him, and tending to his wounds.

Nathan held the bandage tightly against JD's stomach. H reached out with the other hand for the carbolic acid. Just as his fingers touched the bottle, JD's body erupted from the bed. He jerked from the healer's touch.

Chris shouted a curse. JD pulled from his grasp and Josiah backpedaled awkwardly, trying to stay on his feet.

The kid rolled from the bed and, surprisingly, landed on his feet. He stood slightly bent over, one arm crossing his body to press against his bleeding side, the other arm held up defensively. His shoulders heaved as he panted. His wide eyes held no recognition, only fear.

Chris took one step forward but stopped when JD copied him and backed up. "JD -- It's all right, son."

"No! -- Don’t come any closer!" His voice rough with emotion and fright, JD backed up again. He faltered and squeezed his eyes shut, in obvious pain. Nathan leaned forward, but JD seemed to sense the movement and opened his eyes.

"I said no closer, dammit!" Anger overlaid the pain for an instant. JD's breathing increased to a panicked level. He swallowed hard. His eyes roamed over the men in front of him. He backed toward the door. He touched one hand to the wall behind him and leaned farther over, trying to get his breath. His blood-coated hand trembled where it pressed against his side. He clenched his fingers into a fist.

As the men watched anxiously, the adrenaline that pumped through JD seemed to let go abruptly. The kid began to shake.

"They'll come -- they'll be here soon." Quiet assurance whispered through the room with JD's announcement. He leaned harder against the wall.

Chris looked at Josiah and the big man shrugged his shoulders. "Who will be here, JD?"

The youth raised his head and looked at Chris. He squinted and peered through heavy bangs that had fallen over his eyes. "Chris?"

Larabee smiled tentatively but didn't move. "Yeah, kid. It's me. I'm here."

"I -- I -- where's Buck?" His words slurred and he pushed away from the wall but swayed dangerously. JD groaned and his eyes rolled back in his head. Just as his knees buckled, the door opened and Buck rushed in. He reached for JD but the kid hit the floor before he could catch him.

Buck fell to his knees beside the injured young man. Chris and Josiah rushed forward. Chris slid his arms beneath JD’s shoulders and Josiah grabbed his knees. They lifted him from the floor. Buck supported JD’s head while they carried the kid back to the bed. A trail of red bled down JD’s side and Nathan quickly grabbed another bandage.

He pressed carefully around the puncture wound and reached for a wet rag to wipe away JD's blood.

"How bad?"

Nathan heard the fear in Buck's question but didn't look up. "He'll live, long as we can keep him still. Josiah, hold him up so I can wrap this around him."

The preacher slid one arm under JD's shoulders and lifted the limp form. JD's head lolled back Josiah adjusted his hold, allowing the injured young man could lie more comfortably as Nathan wound a clean bandage around his patient's belly. When the healer was finished, Josiah reached up to cradle the back of JD's head and lowered him to the mattress.

"I don't think he's bleeding inside, but I can't know for sure." Nathan looked up into Buck's worried eyes. "We'll just have to wait and see."

"It's gonna be a long night." Chris sighed and grabbed his hat from where it had fallen. "Kid's stronger than he looks."

"What about Bradford?"

Chris looked up. "That’s for the judge to decide."

Buck stared at Chris with his eyes squinted in anger. His jaw worked with the words he kept to himself. Finally, he jerked his chin toward the quiet form on the bed. "You forget it was Bradford who did this?"

"We don’t know that for sure. But if he did, he'll damn well pay." Hoping that explanation would suffice, Larabee adjusted his hat on his head and nodded to the other men. "I'll be at the jail if anyone needs me." He glanced at Nathan once, then headed for the door. Vin and Ezra followed. Buck was left standing in the middle of the room like a dark storm cloud of anger.

"Help me get him covered up, Buck." Nathan's quiet request cut through his thoughts. He turned quickly to help the healer. He gently worked his arms under JD's back and neck and waited while Nathan grabbed the blanket caught under the kid. "Ready?"

Buck nodded and lifted the youth from the bed. JD moaned. His head rolled to the side as he was moved, but he didn't wake up. Nathan quickly pulled the blanket out. Buck lowered JD back to the mattress.

Nathan brought a bowl of water and set it on the side table. "Can you clean him up?"

Recognizing the diversionary tactic for what it was, Buck nevertheless nodded and removed his hat.

He squeezed the water from the rag and gently lifted JD's hand from the bed. Blood from the wound had dried on the kid's fingers. Buck meticulously began cleaning away the gore. The water quickly turned murky. Before he could move to change it, Josiah took it away and replaced it with another bowl. Weakly smiling his thanks, Buck took a clean rag and continued tending to JD.

The youth lay quietly, his earlier fight drained and gone. His limbs sprawled out across the bed. When Buck was finished cleaning off the blood, he stood up and gently arranged JD's legs and arms in more comfortable looking positions. A bright stain of red appeared on the bandage against JD's side. It spread slowly, bleeding out until a small rough circle appeared. Buck noticed and called Nathan.

"He's still bleedin'."

Nathan nodded and reached for another bandage. "After all that moving around, I'm not surprised." He placed the clean cloth on JD's side and reached for Buck's arm. "Keep pressure right here." After setting Buck's hand over the bandage and pressing against the back of his fingers to show him how much to push, Nathan walked away. "If he don't stop bleeding, I'll have to stitch him up. Keep a close eye on him, Buck."

Buck nodded, his face set with fear and shock. He watched JD breathe and felt the movement of the kid's body under his palm. Tiny beads of sweat gathered on the boy's brow and upper lip. Josiah offered Buck another cloth to wipe the moisture away. Buck pulled the rag across JD's face tenderly, but he felt awkward, unsure of himself. Seeing JD hurt so badly stripped away all his confidence.

JD's head shifted on the pillow, and he turned toward the gunslinger. Even though he was unconscious, the kid's face held an expression of pain. Helpless rage burned in Buck's chest. He clenched his fist around the rag in his hand. Bradford would not get away with this, no matter who his relatives were.

<><><><><><><><><><>

When Chris, Vin and Ezra left the clinic, Vin split off from the other two and headed for the saloon to question the patrons as to whether or not they’d seen Bradford.

Vin pushed through the batwing doors and moved toward the bar. Loud music, painted ladies, and bright lamps had replaced the dull, muted atmosphere that hung over the room during the day. Men looking for pleasure occupied the main room. Scantily clad ladies moved among them, teasing and giggling. He shuffled past them and leaned over the bar.

"Whisky."

A short glass of amber liquid appeared at his elbow. Vin took a sip, then lifted his eyes to the bartender. He was a broad shouldered man with pork chop sideburns leading down to a pepper colored walrus mustache hiding the lower half of his face. His short hair was parted down the middle with dark wisps of bangs combed like wings over his forehead.

"Quiet night."

The man gave a surprised laugh and shrugged his shoulders. "’Bout normal, really. Trenton’s men just finished moving the herd. They’re all tryin’ to get rid of the dust in their throats."

Vin nodded in understanding. "With so much going on I guess you don’t see much from behind there."

"Son, nothing goes on here I don’t see." He touched his temple and winked, then pointed out toward the crowd. "Eagle Eye Sam’s what they call me. I don’t miss nothin’."

Not allowing the hope he felt to show in his face, Vin leaned a bit closer. "I guess you noticed the commotion earlier with JD Dunne, then."

"When they carried that young feller down the stairs?" Sam nodded. Someone farther down the polished bar called for a beer. Sam left Vin to take care of the order. When he returned he noticed Vin’s empty glass and refilled it.

"Yeah, I saw that. A man would have to be blind not to see that."

"Did you notice a city feller come in right before JD? Fancy dressed dude, all nice and proper like."

Sam paused and tilted his head to the side. "City feller, huh? Don’t get many of those around here, ‘cept every now and then at the tables." He lowered his head to gesture toward a shadowed corner in the room. Vin looked over his shoulder. Gambling tables sat in strategically dark alcoves. Men bent over their cards, smoke rising like a miasma over their heads to obscure the low hanging lamps.

"This one ain’t no gambler." He turned back to Sam. "He woulda walked straight through the room and headed for the steps in the back. You seen him?"

Sam looked up toward the ceiling, searching his memory. Finally, he shook his head and gave Vin a lopsided grin. "Nope, I ain’t seen him." Flipping the rag he was using over his shoulder, he rested his elbows on the bar. "Why’s he so important, anyway?"

Vin pushed back from the bar. He dug a coin from his pocket and tossed it in front of Sam. "No reason. Just curious is all."

Accepting Vin’s less than satisfying answer, Sam reclaimed his rag and continued polishing the bar.

Vin turned around and surveyed the room. Some faces were familiar, men he passed on the street daily. Others he didn’t know, but felt certain they were from Trenton’s ranch. He moved cautiously through the group, questioning a man here and there. No one had seen Bradford in the saloon.

His earlier hope plummeting down to his boots, Vin left and headed for the sheriff’s office, hoping Chris and Ezra had more luck with Bradford.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Nathan moved quietly around the room. He stole a glance back at the two friends. JD lay quiet and pale stretched out on his back. Buck sat beside him, worried and scared. Muscles in the older man’s jaw rippled. Tense expressions of anger crossed his face as he tended to JD.

Nathan watched as Buck squeezed the rag in his hand till his knuckles shone pale white with strain. Buck’s forehead creased when he frowned. The healer moved closer and gently touched his shoulder. Wilmington glanced up and smiled weakly at him.

"How’s he doing?" Nathan leaned over to check JD’s brow. Warmth met his touch and he shifted his hand lower to probe gently at the kid’s belly above the bandage.

"You tell me."

The skin beneath his fingers felt hot and oily with sweat and Nathan couldn’t keep worry from straining his voice. "Too early to tell, Buck. Give it time."

Only an hour had passed since JD was attacked. Nathan breathed a sigh of relief for each minute that passed without any sign of internal bleeding. The possibility of infection worried him. JD looked unnaturally pale. Beads of sweat covered him like fresh dew and the yellow lamplight scooped charcoal shadows out of his cheeks and beneath his closed eyes.

As the two men watched, JD’s head shifted on the pillow and a moan parted his lips. The kid’s eyebrows drew together and a breath of sound made them lean closer.

" – Uhhhhh – Bradfo—"

The distress in JD’s voice pulled at Nathan. He watched as Buck drew the damp cloth across the injured young man’s face.

"It’s okay, JD. You’re safe now."

Buck’s reassurance went unanswered. JD seemed to drift into a deeper level of sleep and he grew still. After a moment, Nathan took the tepid water. Buck gently touched JD’s shock cooled face.

Time felt stretched out too long all ready. Nathan looked up at the window. The curtains rose and fell as a breeze found its way into the room. The healer sighed heavily. Chris was right. It was going to be a long night.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Chris stepped into the sheriff’s office with Ezra at his heels. Bradford’s voice instantly rang out, demanding and irritating.

"What charge am I being held on, Mr. Larabee?"

Chris glanced over at the cell. Bradford sat on the bunk, his arms crossed over his chest. His hat sat straight on his head, and not a cuff was mussed on his suit. No ranting and raving for this prisoner.

"Suspicion of theft and attempted murder."

Bradford’s eyes narrowed and he stood from the bunk. He moved to the bars but refrained from reaching out to grab them. "I deny any charges of theft, and I’m sure you’ll find nothing to back your accusations if you search my room. Who’s attempted murder?"

"JD Dunne."

"That boy?" Bradford made a sound of disbelief. Chris found himself clenching his hands into fists.

"I have no reason to harm Mr. Dunne. On the other hand, he has shown a dangerous dislike for me. You can ask his lady friend, Casey Wells."

Chris saw Ezra flinch in the corner of his eye but kept his own reaction to himself.

"If I ever had reason to hurt Mr. Dunne, you can be sure it would be in self-defense. I can give you a list of well-known men, my father’s friends, who would stand by me. It would be my word against his, Mr. Larabee, and I think we both know what the outcome of such a challenge would be." The look of self-satisfaction on his face twisted a knife of hatred deep into Chris’ gut.

Larabee glowered at Bradford, trying to maintain control. He wanted to rip the man through the bars and pound some humility into him.

"Your father’s friends?" Ezra’s calm voice broke through the building anger and Chris glanced toward the southerner. The knowing look on Ezra’s face reassured him, and his fiery temper smoldered down to glowing embers. The gambler could probably read the thief like a book, spotting the criminal behind the mask of propriety.

"Yes. Just wire my father and all of this will be cleared up."

The knowledge of the message the representative had already sent burned in his mind like a raw brand: Unless you have irrefutable evidence that my son has committed a crime, let him go immediately.

And there was no evidence against the man, other than JD’s word. But if the judge was called in and Bradford was allowed to testify, he’d be sure to bring up Vin. Chris wasn’t willing to risk that.

"We’ve already heard from the representative." Moving stiffly, as if his body protested his actions, Chris grabbed the key from the desk and moved toward Bradford’s cell. "I got nothing to hold you on, Bradford." He unlocked the bars and pulled the door open. "But I want you out of town. Now."

"Before breakfast?"

Ezra pushed between the two when Chris moved forward. "Don’t do it, Chris." The use of his first name arrested his attention. Larabee clenched his jaw hard and allowed Bradford to move past him.

The two men stood at the door of the office and watched Bradford leave. The black night swallowed his form a few feet from the building. "It’s a mistake letting that man go." Ezra’s quiet comment echoed Chris’ thoughts.

"I know, but there’s nothing we can do this time."

"This time?" The gambler turned to Chris and found the older man’s gaze narrowed as he stared out at the street.

"We ever cross paths again and he won’t be able to call to daddy for help. He won’t be able to hide behind his threats, either."

The quiet promise crackled through the air, leaving it charged with tension. Ezra lifted his eyebrows, the only sign he’d allow that Chris’ cold statement affected him. Thankful he was on this dark man’s good side, the gambler tipped his hat and took his leave.

Vin walked up and joined Chris. "No one seen Bradford in the saloon tonight. We can’t hold him, Chris."

"I already let him go."

Vin nodded but refrained from commenting. He knew the anger and frustration he felt was the same thing burning in Chris. Silently, they turned and entered the office.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Gray swirled through his brain. JD floated in soft oblivion. Flashes of images tugged through his consciousness. He swatted them away like irritating insects, refusing to allow them to alight.

Noises wrapped in cotton bounced harmlessly around in his head. The images coalesced and he flinched mentally when Bradford’s face loomed large and imposing in front of him.

The thief reached out and JD tried to withdraw, tried to wipe the greed twisted face away, but Bradford moved closer. He extended his fingers like claws. His fingernails sharpened and grew into long needles that reached for JD. Frustration became terror when he couldn’t pull away and escape. He flailed his limbs through air that felt as thick as cold molasses and struggled to move feet that seemed caught in tangled bushes. Bradford loomed closer. His head grew disproportional to his body, expanding larger and larger until JD’s full view was taken up with the thief’s eyes.

His terror morphed into sheer insanity and pulled at his mind, ripping him to shreds. JD screamed. The rough sound shattered the dream.

Opening his eyes, he sat up. Agony pulled at him, tying strong bands of resistance around his weak body. A shoulder supported him when he would have fallen back. Gentle hands offered stability for his wobbly neck. He leaned toward the help and closed his eyes, finally aware of his own wheezing breaths panting loudly through the room. His chest pumped uncomfortably, but he couldn’t seem to control his body. Painful heat stabbed through his belly. He grunted when injured muscles protested his hunched position.

"Take it easy, kid."

The quiet, familiar voice dispelled the terror that still burnt the outer edges of his mind. JD sighed and finally brought his breathing under control. Buck’s neck was warm against his cheek. He reached up to pat clumsily at his friend’s arm. " . . . thanks, Buck . . . "

Hoping his words were clear enough to understand, he sank gratefully away from the pain throbbing through his belly into the sweet darkness settling over him like warm water.

<><><><><><><><><><>

When the body in his arms grew limp with a soft sigh, Buck carefully lowered JD back to the bed. Nathan hovered nearby and lightly touched the kid’s face.

"His fever’s going down."

"’Bout time." Relief shown clearly through Buck’s gruff words and Nathan smiled.

"It’s getting late. Why don’t you go get some rest? I’ll sit with him a spell."

Not surprisingly, Buck shook his head. "Nah. I’ll stay with him. I’d like to be here when he wakes up."

"Suit yourself. I’m gonna clean up some and rest for a bit. Holler at me if you need anything."

Nathan waited until he saw Buck nod, then he moved off to gather the bloody bandages and things that needed to be thrown away. JD would be fine. The knowledge lifted the heavy weight from around his heart, and Nathan smiled.

<><><><><><><><><><>

JD lay quietly, his wound bound tightly. The crisp white bandage appeared pristine next to his lightly tanned skin. Nathan had changed the wrapping over an hour ago. The bleeding had finally stopped.

Buck sat with his arms crossed and stared at his friend, hypnotized by the rhythmic movement of JD’s chest as he breathed. Nathan was positive no organs had been punctured by the icepick. The danger of internal bleeding was past. Remembered fear crept up Buck’s chest and quickened his breathing. So many things could steal a life. The absolute certainty of human frailty struck him as never before.

A brief flash of JD lying pale and still in a coffin shook him to the core of his soul. He stood up quickly to dispel the vision. His abrupt movements startled Nathan from his nap. The healer looked up in alarm.

"Buck? Is JD –?"

"No." Buck walked over to the dark corner. He held out one hand to help when Nathan stood unsteadily. "He’s all right. It’ll be mornin’ soon, why don’t you go get some rest?"

Nathan sighed and lifted his hand to rub his eyes. He stumbled over to the bed. Tension melted from his frame when he leaned closer to JD. Buck saw him blink, trying to chase away the sleep that still pulled at him as he rested his palm on JD’s brow. Nathan turned his hand and touched the back of his fingers to JD’s face, then gently probed the kid’s belly. Finally satisfied, the weary man straightened from his hunched position.

"The fever’s gone and there’s no bleeding. He’ll be just fine, Buck." He turned a tired smile to the gunslinger. "You be all right here with him?"

Buck nodded and lifted his hand to pat Nathan’s drooping shoulders. "We’ll both be fine. Go rest, Nate."

Nodding agreeably, Nathan turned and left the room.

Silence descended cold and oppressive as death. Buck shivered. He turned the lamp’s flame higher, flooding the room with a golden glow, then settled back into his chair beside JD’s bed. Despite the warm light, the corners remained hidden in shadow. Weariness pulled at him and worry and fear stole past his meager defenses. He lifted his tired head and looked at JD.

Family. It was all about family. JD, Chris, Josiah, Ezra, Vin and Nathan had become his family, and when one of them was hurt or threatened, he hurt. Buck smiled and chuckled softly to himself when he thought of all the good times he’d had since coming to Four Corners: teasing JD and Vin, getting under Chris’ skin, mocking Ezra, laughing with Josiah and Nathan. It built up a reserve of strength to draw from when things looked bad, like now.

He drifted for a while with his chin tucked against his chest. He woke suddenly and noticed the previous black square of night at the window had grown lighter with dawn. A low rumbling of sound drew his attention to JD. Despite stiff joints, he hurried to stand next to the bed.

JD stirred. His head shifted on the pillow. Buck touched the kid’s forearm and leaned closer.

"JD?"

The young man turned toward his voice. Buck smiled. "That’s it, open your eyes for me, kid."

Sleep heavy lids opened and JD squinted out at Buck. "What time is it?"

Buck grinned. "Morning time, Junior." He sobered. "How do you feel?"

"Like I been run over by a wagon." JD lifted one arm that shook with weakness and rubbed his hand across his face. "Bradford?"

"In jail."

"What’s Chris gonna—"

The sound of a door opening brought Buck’s head up to find Chris and Vin entering the room with Nathan at their heels. The healer shouldered his way around the two men and walked to the bedside. He gently touched JD’s forehead. With an unusual display of surliness, JD weakly swiped the hand away.

"Knock it off, Nathan, I’m fine."

Instead of displeasure, Nathan grinned and withdrew his hand. "Yeah, you’ll be just fine, JD." With a wide smile directed to the other men, Nathan turned to another corner of the room and began straightening the mess made from the night before.

Chris dragged a chair over and sat down then leaned forward. Vin stood behind him. "How you feelin’, son?"

JD shifted a bit on the bed and grimaced but didn’t complain. "Been better, to tell you the truth."

"Want to tell me how you and Bradford both ended up in Ezra’s room?"

Chris’ directness brought a frown to Buck’s face. "Give the kid a little time to wake up, why doncha?"

JD ignored him. "I was looking for evidence . . . "

"In Ezra’s room?"

"No." JD glanced at Buck then looked back at Chris. "I checked Bradford’s room first."

Chris leaned back in the chair and rested his hands on his thighs. "Guess I don’t have to tell you how dangerous that was."

"No, I kinda figured that part out." Ignoring Buck’s glowering stare, JD continued. "I couldn’t find anything, so I—"

"Did you go through his things?"

Shifting uncomfortably, JD shook his head. "Just the drawers in the bureau. I didn’t touch his luggage."

"And you didn’t find anything?" Vin moved closer to Chris’ side. The tracker stood casually, one thumb hooked in his belt. His eyes narrowed with tension.

JD sighed. "No, I didn’t. That’s when I thought of Ezra, and I figured a thief as good as Bradford would know about Ezra’s holdings."

"Why didn’t you come get one of us?" Buck’s hard voice bounced against his tight nerves. JD shrugged from his position on the bed. The movement pulled at his injury, and he frowned.

"I didn’t have time. I found him just as he broke into Ezra’s room. I didn’t know if Ezra was in there or not."

The gambler chose that moment to enter the room. Without missing a beat, he tipped his hat in greeting and commented, "And I am eternally grateful for your impeccable timing, Mr. Dunne."

Ignoring the distraction, Buck kept his eyes on JD. "Still, it was a dumb move, kid."

Nathan touched Ezra’s sleeve, arresting the man’s attention. "How’s your head?"

His face twisted with chagrin when no one else mentioned his injury. "Just fine, thank you for your concern."

Buck opened his mouth to continue his tirade. Chris broke in and brought the conversation back to the point at hand. "No one saw him leave the saloon, JD. Either he paid everyone off, which I doubt, or he was subtle enough not to be noticed. Either way, you’re the only witness."

"But he was there!" JD’s head and shoulders curled up from the bed and he grimaced and placed his hand on his belly. "Isn’t this enough proof?"

"Take it easy." Chris stood and watched as Buck pressed the young man back down. "It ain’t a matter of proof, JD, not this time."

"What do you mean?" Satisfied JD would stay where he was, Buck turned to Chris for an answer.

The gunslinger sighed heavily and reached up to adjust his hat. "I wired the representative -- Bradford’s father -- and was told in no uncertain terms to let him go."

"You’re not gonna do that, are you?" JD’s incredulous voice rose an octave and he stared at Chris, disbelief raising his eyebrows nearly to his hairline.

"Got no choice, kid. I heard from Judge Travis, too. Representative Bradford called in favors and left us high and dry. His son is gone."

"Dammit!"

"I had to let him go, JD, you know that. He had too much of an advantage over us. It would have come down to your word against his. The word of a greenhorn boy—"

"He ain’t no boy."

Chris ignored Buck’s growling protest but took the time to correct himself. "The word of a greenhorn kid from Boston -- a hired gun -- against a representative’s son. Bradford could say it was self-defense, that you came at him with a gun, accusing him of robbery. He had nothing on him, JD. You got no proof. And you know what he was threatening to do."

"But I – dammit! Ain’t there anyway we can still get him, Chris?" Agitation drew his features tight. "What’s gonna keep him from comin’ back and using those things against us again?" JD struggled up to one elbow despite Buck’s attempts to keep him flat on his back. He clenched one fist against the bedcovers, resisting the need to hold his injury.

"Hold still there, JD. Don’t want to start bleedin’ again." Nathan moved forward with a cup in one hand and settled on the edge of the bed when Buck stood up to make room. "You boys take this jawing somewhere else. He needs to rest."

The edge of command made it more than a suggestion. The other men silently moved to the far corner of the room. Buck watched as Nathan cajoled JD into drinking the herbal tea he had prepared, then settled the kid back into bed and pulled the quilt up to his chin.

He waited until he saw JD’s eyes close before turning back to Chris. "JD’s right, Chris. Ain’t there anything we can do? Letting that bastard go scott free ain’t right."

"I know how you feel but our hands are tied, Buck." The dark gunslinger glanced back over at JD. The young man’s gentle breathing signaled his sleep. "If Bradford ever comes back to town, though…."

"What difference will that make?" Bitterness made his words sound brittle. Chris turned back to his old friend.

"Because next time, I don’t intend on givin’ him time to threaten us. Next time, it’ll be our turn to put the fear a god in him."

Dissatisfaction sat on Buck’s face, and he frowned at the older man. Silently he walked over to the window and looked out on the waking town. He knew Chris was right, and it would be senseless to try and follow Bradford. The man was long gone by now, and he held too many aces up his sleeve, but revenge sat heavy in his heart.

<><><><><><><><><>

Nearly twenty miles away, William Bradford the Third reined his horse in hard and looked back over the hills from where he’d come. He was panting nearly as hard as his mount, his fine clothes dusty from the trail. Sweat clung to his face and muddied his features and he pulled out a lace edged handkerchief and wiped the offending moisture away.

After tucking the small square of material back into his sleeve, he pulled a roll of money from his jacket pocket. A smug smile lit his face as he fingered the wad. "A lucrative adventure, indeed." Secreting the stash away, he lifted his chin toward the east. "You’ll see me again, Four Corners. I haven’t finished with you yet. No one gets the better of William Bradford the Third. No one."

Jerking cruelly on the reins, he dug his heels in his horse’s sides and cantered off, leaving a trail of dust behind.

The End