Josiah eyed the man before him seeing recognition in his eyes.

"Ain't you the..." the man began.

Sanchez belted him with his left hand and caught him as he fell. "Shoulda prayed when ya had the chance," he said with a grin.

~~~~~~~~~

Buck Wilmington ducked under the laundered clothes and came up short as a gun was cocked next to his left cheek.

"You can move or you can live," the man holding the gun said just before he sank to his knees.

Buck looked at Nathan as the man holding the gun slumped to the ground. Nathan smiled and walked away. "That was gonna be a tough choice," Wilmington said as he moved away from the downed man.

~~~~~~~~~

JD opened the tent flap, his eyes widening and his mouth opening as the lady opened her robe.

"Oh... come on in, Honey," she said.

JD Dunne smiled and turned away.

~~~~~~~~

Mary lay on the dirty bed in Wicks' tent. Her eyes wet with unshed tears as she struggled against her bonds. A sudden noise at the tent flap drew her attention and she watched as one man hit another, instantly recognizing the man who stepped into the tent.

Chris Larabee hurried to the bed and began untying the ropes that held the blond woman captive. He looked into her eyes as he asked. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm alright... I'm fine," she said her voice sounding strange as she fought to hold the tears at bay.

Chris continued to remove the ropes that entrapped her, all the while seething at the man who'd done this to her. He pulled her up from the bed, holding her against his body. He held her tightly as they made their way through the open tent flap. The sound of a gun being cocked to his right grabbed his attention and Chris turned his body shielding the woman from harm.

Wicks stood before them, gun held straight out in front of his body, aimed directly at the two fleeing people. "Welcome back to Wickstown," he laughed harshly.

Chris shoved Mary behind him as he faced the angry man who'd abused his 'Whores' and taken Mary as a bargaining chip to get them back.

"This is almost too easy," he laughed as he pulled the trigger.

Chris felt the bullet enter his chest as he turned to protect Mary. The pain was instantaneous and he cried out as his legs gave way and he felt his body folding to the ground. He heard Mary scream beside him as more gunshots rang out. He thought he saw Wicks fall but couldn't be sure his eyes didn't deceive him.

Pain was everywhere. It invaded his senses becoming his whole world. His chest constricted as air struggled to gain entry to his lungs. A deep burning sensation took control of his upper body. "Mary," he cried, remembering she was still in danger. He tried to get to his feet and protect the woman. It was his fault she'd been kidnapped in the first place. He'd told her the girls had a right to live in Four Corners if they wanted to. Now she was in danger because of that boast.

"It's ok, Chris, Wicks is dead" Mary cried, unable to stop the tears from flowing as she tried to hold the man down.

Vin Tanner knelt beside the trembling woman. "Nathan!" he shouted as the gunfire that had been a constant in the past five or ten minutes died down. Suddenly the only sounds were the soft sobbing of the terrified woman and the moans from the injured man she held. "Nathan!" Tanner yelled again and this time was rewarded by the sight of the healer hurrying towards him.

"Let me take a look, Ma'am," Jackson said as he knelt beside the injured man.

Mary looked into the eyes of the healer and wondered if he'd be able to help the man she held.

"Josiah, get her out of the way," Jackson ordered as he watched Vin lift Chris's upper body from her arms.

"No! Please I want to stay," Mary Travis cried.

"We're in the way, Mrs. Travis. Nathan needs room to work," Sanchez said as he led her away from the gruesome site.

"S...sorry, M...Mary. M...my fault," Chris said as he held his left hand over the bullet wound in his upper chest.

"Don't try to talk, Chris," Jackson warned as he pulled the hand away, causing the injured man to cry out.

"There's so much blood, Nathan," Tanner said worriedly.

"I know," Jackson said as he tore open the dark, blood soaked shirt. "Hold him still, Vin."

"Chris!" Wilmington cried as he and JD joined the others in front of the tent. An anxious look from Nathan Jackson warned him his friend was in bad shape. "Who did this?"

"Wicks," Tanner said as he watched the healer work on the wound in his friend's upper right chest.

"Damn that man! Where is he?" Wilmington asked.

"Dead," Tanner answered.

"Oh, God, h...hurts," the injured blond cried out as Nathan lifted him to check for an exit wound.

"I know it does, Chris. JD get my saddlebags," Jackson ordered. "We have to get him off the ground. The bullet's still in there and I need to get it out."

JD looked at his mentor and without a word hurried towards the horses.

Ezra Standish hurried to the huddled group of men. He could see Mary Travis crying against Sanchez's chest and knew things were dismal.

"Mr. Jackson."

"What, Ezra," Jackson asked as he tried to staunch the flow of blood.

"I think it would be prudent if we got Mr. Larabee out of here. Wicks' associates are already talking about a lynching."

"Can't move Chris like this, Ez," Jackson said as he lifted the cloth from the wound.

"We have to get him somewhere safe or those men will kill him," Standish said.

"G...go," Larabee's pain filled voice ordered.

"Let's get him in that tent," Jackson said as he pointed to the tent Mary had been held in.

"No! G...get out of h...here," Chris told them.

"Ain't leavin' ya, Pard," Tanner said as he continued to hold the older man.

"H...have to," the blond mumbled as he went limp in Tanner's arms.

"Nathan!" Wilmington cried.

Jackson felt the blond's neck and was relieved to find a pulse. "It's ok, he's just passed out."

"Here you go, Nathan," JD said as he returned with the healer's saddlebags.

Jackson took the saddlebags and turned to the others. "We need to get him inside where I can work on him," he said. "Vin, Buck, you two take his head. Ezra, JD, you two get his legs. Come on move it!" he ordered.

Even unconscious Chris cried out as his body was lifted off the ground and carried into the bed he'd so recently rescued Mary Travis from. His shirt was removed, revealing the bullet hole for all to see.

Mary pulled away from Sanchez and hurried to Chris's side. "What do you want me to do, Nathan?" she asked.

Jackson took in the haggard look on the blond woman's face and asked, "You sure you're up to this?"

"Yes," the woman assured him as she placed her hand on the injured man's cheek.

The other men noticed the intimate gesture and averted their eyes.

"Alright," Jackson said as he laid out his instruments. "Ezra, you and JD get me some water and whiskey. Josiah, help me move the bed into the middle of the room. Buck, Vin, I'm going to need you to help hold him down when the time comes. He's gonna buck like an untried horse when I probe for that bullet."

"We got trouble!" JD shouted as he followed Standish back into the tent. "Wicks' men are coming this way," he said as he turned and pulled his gun.

"How many?" Wilmington asked as he joined the younger man at the flap.

"Half a dozen or so," Dunne answered.

"Larabee, you and your men better get out here now!" a man shouted as Sanchez, Standish, and Tanner joined Wilmington and Dunne.

"What are we gonna do?" Dunne asked.

"I'll talk to them," Sanchez said as he moved past the other men.

Tanner looked to the injured man and back to the ex-preacher before speaking softly. "I'm coming with you, Josiah. You guys watch our backs."

Sanchez and Tanner stood before the six angry men. "What do you want?" Sanchez asked.

"I know you you're the preacher guy. We want Larabee. Send him out here now!" the leader of the motley group ordered.

"Can't do that," Sanchez said.

"Why not? Is he a coward?" the leader said, gaining confidence as he heard snickers from his own men.

"Chris ain't no coward," Tanner said.

"Then tell him to get out here!"

"He can't. Wicks shot him," Sanchez told him.

"Is he dead? Cause if he ain't he soon will be and so will the rest of you," the leader snapped as he drew his gun and aimed it at the two men.

Tanner dove to the right as a bullet ripped through his sleeve. He felt it burn as it tore a furrow across his arm.

Sanchez dove to the left as bullets passed over his head.

Wilmington, Dunne, and Standish fired from their position just inside the tent. Buck watched as two men, including the man who'd been doing all the talking fell to the ground.

"G...get me up."

"You're not going anywhere, Chris," Jackson snapped as he pushed the man back into the bed.

"D...Damnit, Nathan, I...I can h...help," the pale blond stammered.

"Not now, Chris, let the others handle it. You need to lay still till I get that bullet out."

"S...shoulda left me here and got away. Wicks has a lot of men working for him. A...angry men. G...get Mary outta h...here," he ordered as he grimaced in pain.

"One of you get over here. I gotta get the bullet out and stop the bleeding," Jackson called over his shoulder.

"You go, Mr. Wilmington," Standish said as he fired at the retreating men, smiling as another man dropped to the ground clutching his arm.

"You two watch it," Buck snarled as he hurried to help Jackson with the injured man. "What do you want me to do?"

"Here, Chris, drink some of this," the healer said as he poured a small amount of Laudanum into the man's mouth. "I'll need you to hold him down now, Buck," Jackson said as he heard more bullets exchanged outside. He worried about the two men who'd gone out to speak with the group, but set it aside as he lifted a probe from his instruments. "Chris, I'm gonna have to get that bullet now,"

"K," the blond said weakly.

"Bite down on this, Pard," Wilmington said as he placed a folded clean cloth between the man's teeth.

"T...thanks," Chris said as he braced himself for the new torture about to begin.

Nathan Jackson pressed the tiny instrument into the wound. He heard the muffled cries coming from his patient and bit his lip as he the probe sank deeper into the wound. "Hold him tight, Buck! Mrs. Travis talk to him!" he snapped as he continued to search for the elusive bullet.

"Mr. Larabee, you promised you'd be there when Billy comes home next month," she said as she fought the tears that streamed from her eyes ever since the blond had been shot.

Chris concentrated on the woman kneeling at his left side. He felt each movement of the probe as his friend continued to search blindly for the tiny piece of metal that caused him so much pain. Her voice soothed him as he looked into her caring eyes.

Buck watched Larabee's eyes, hoping the glassy appearance was from the laudanum and not blood loss. Even to his untrained eyes there seemed to be too much of it and he hoped the man he held would find the strength to make it through.

"Easy, Chris, I got it!" Jackson exclaimed as he pulled the smashed metal from the wound.

Chris cried out in anguish as the bullet popped from the wound.

"Hey, Stud, all done," Wilmington soothed.

"Buck, we need you over here. Vin and Josiah are pinned down," Dunne yelled.

"Go ahead, Buck, I can handle it from here," Jackson said.

Wilmington moved back to help the others, shocked by the amount of holes in the canvas tent. Even more shocked that no one seemed to have been hit. "Where are they?"

'Vin's on the right, Josiah's on the left," Dunne informed him.

"We've got those miscreants pinned down but they've also got us pinned down," Standish said.

"I'm gonna go around back, see if I can come up behind them," Wilmington told them. "You guys try to keep them where they are."

"Be careful, Mr. Wilmington," Standish said.

"I will," Buck assured the gambler as he headed for the back of the tent. He didn't miss the worried look the blond man threw his way.

"I'm almost done, Chris," Jackson said as he finished cleaning the wound.

"G...gotta get M...Mary outta here," Chris pleaded. "T...they'll h...hurt her."

"I'm fine, Mr. Larabee," Mary assured him as she used a cloth to wipe away the beads of sweat on his brow.

"Try to sleep, Chris," Jackson said as he watched Buck take his tiny knife and cut through the heavy canvas.

"No, gotta h...help," Larabee gasped as he tried to get off the bed.

"Oh, no you don't. You're stayin' put," Jackson ordered. "So help me, Chris, I'll tie you down if I have to."

"Then go help them."

"I've got to finish cleaning the wound," Jackson said. "The others are taking care of it."

Buck pushed through the opening he'd made and began to move around the side of the tent. He could hear the sounds of gunfire from the front as he crept from one tent to the next.

Two men crouched behind a water trough firing at the men protecting Chris Larabee, Nathan Jackson, and Mary Travis. "Drop em, Boys," Wilmington snarled. He fired quickly as the two men turned their guns on him. Neither man had a chance to get a shot off as Buck's bullets struck them both in the chest. "That's two down," he said with a grin.

"Hold it right there."

Buck turned to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Don't try it," the lone man ordered. "I'm here to offer you and your men a way out."

Buck looked at him suspiciously, "Who the hell are you?"

"It's not important who I am," the handsome man told him. "You and your friends did me a favor and I always return favours in kind."

"What favour," Wilmington asked suspiciously.

"One of you killed my partner," the man grinned. "Oh, don't worry I'm not gonna do anything to you but Wicks's men probably will. I'll get them out of the way and give you time to get out of here."

"We've got a seriously injured man in that tent. He can't be moved."

"Then you'll all die," the man said as he turned away.

"Wait," Buck snapped, seeing the chance to get them all out of here slipping away.

"What?"

"We'll leave. You just make sure you keep Wicks' men away from here."

"I told you I would. Go get your friends and clear out while I get those two out of here," the man said as he hurried in the direction of the shots.

Buck watched him go and turned back towards the tent where his friends were waiting. He slipped back inside through the opening he'd made. "Hold it, Nathan, it's just me," he hissed as he heard a gun being cocked.

"Good way to get yourself killed, Buck," the healer told him.

"I'll try to remember that. How is he?"

"I'm fine, Buck," the blond answered.

"Sure you are, Stud," Wilmington looked at the front of the tent as the gunfire suddenly stopped. "JD, tell Vin and Josiah to get in here. Ezra, keep an eye on things."

"What's going on, Buck?" Jackson asked.

"I'll explain everything when Josiah and Vin get in here," as he said it the two missing men stepped into the tent.

"Well?" Jackson asked.

"We got to get out of here."

"How? There's no way we can move Chris," Jackson said angrily.

"There's no choice, Nathan, if we don't leave now none of us are gettin' outta here."

"What makes you think we can get outta here now?" Tanner asked as he knelt beside the injured man.

"Wicks had a partner," Wilmington informed them and watched as his words sank in.

"Damn!" Chris swore from the bed. "Y...you guys gotta g...go," he gasped.

"I ain't leavin' ya, Chris," the tracker said.

"No one's leavin' him, Vin," Wilmington promised. "We're all going together."

"And just how do you propose to do that?" Jackson asked.

"I'll carry Chris in front of me," Wilmington answered.

"He shouldn't be moved," the healer said as he watched the blond grimace as he moved on the small bed.

"Nathan, I'm telling you there's no choice. We've got to get outta here before those men come back with reinforcements."

"He's right, N...Nathan. Get me up," Larabee ordered.

"Now just wait one damned minute, Chris. Ya jest stay put till we figure this out," Tanner snapped.

"I think it would be prudent if I were to bring the horses to the back of the tent. That way we can leave without anyone seeing us. If we are leaving that is," Standish said.

"We're leaving," Larabee assured him, his voice edged with determination.

"It's gonna be hard on you, Brother," Sanchez said.

"There's no choice. Buck, help Ezra with the horses. We'll be ready when you get back," the blond said keeping the pain out of his voice as he struggled to get off the bed.

"Lie still, Chris, if we're gonna do this thing then you have to let us do all the work," Jackson said.

"Alright," the blond said as he looked up at the young man kneeling next to a quiet Mary Travis. His eyes showed his shock as he noticed Vin's arm for the first time. "You're hurt," he said as he reached for the younger man, only to be overcome with pain from his own injury.

"Just a scratch," Tanner assured him.

"Let me take a look, Vin," Jackson ordered, all healer once again.

"It'll keep, Nathan."

"Do you guys know how tired I am of hearing that? Just shut up and let me take a look," Jackson snapped as he helped the younger man out of his coat. "Mary, pass me the whiskey," he said as he saw the deep furrow in the tracker's upper arm.

"Here you are, Nathan," Mary said as she passed the healer the half bottle.

Nathan poured a liberal amount over the wound and heard the sharp intake of breath from his second patient. "I'll just put a bandage on it till we get back home. It'll probably need stitches."

"Thanks, Nate. Anything happening out there, JD?"

"Nothing," Dunne answered as he kept watching for signs of trouble.

"Keep your eyes open," Tanner ordered.

"I will, Vin," Dunne told him.

"You boys ready to go? Oh and you too Mrs. Travis," Wilmington asked as he stuck his head through the tear in the canvas.

"No, but we don't seem to have much choice," Jackson said as he looked at his patient. "Remember what I said, Chris, let us do all the work."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Josiah, Buck, help me get him on his feet," Jackson ordered. "Vin, you stay back with that arm."

Buck placed his arm under the blond's shoulders from the right side while Josiah placed his under from the left side. The two men lifted Chris into a sitting position, ignoring the almost silent moans.

Nathan lifted his legs and pulled them over the side of the bed. "I'm gonna give you a little more Laudanum, Chris, but it's still gonna hurt when we put you on the horse."

"N...nothin' you c...can do b...bout that, Nate," the blond stammered as he tried to catch his breath.

"Drink this," Jackson ordered as he placed the bottle in front of Larabee's mouth.

Chris swallowed the foul tasting liquid and shuddered. "Can't they make that stuff taste better?" he asked, causing the others to laugh.

Jackson draped the black shirt over the man's shoulders and helped him put one arm in the sleeve. He knelt in front of him and did up the buttons, then signalled for Wilmington and Sanchez.

"Lean on us, Brother Chris," Sanchez said as they helped the injured man to his feet.

Chris did as he was told, not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice. He didn't have the strength to stand on his own two feet let alone walk to the horses. He bit his lip, tasting the coppery tang of blood, as he tried to stop any sound from escaping his mouth.

"Come on, JD," Tanner said as he held the canvas for Buck and Josiah to help Chris through.

"Coming!"

Vin helped Mary Travis through the tear and then held it while JD escaped. By the time he stepped through Nathan and Josiah were lifting the injured man onto Wilmington's horse.

"Lean back, Stud," Wilmington said as he wrapped his arms around his friend.

"You can ride with me, Mrs. Travis," Sanchez offered as he climbed on his horse.

"Let's ride," Tanner said as he mounted his own horse. The thunder of hooves marked their exit from Wickstown.

~~~~~~~~

Two men watched as the contingent from Four Corners rode out. "You gonna tell me why you let them go, Donaldson?" Percy Watkins asked.

Roy Donaldson smiled at the man beside him. "You remember me telling you about a shipment of gold lost during one of my missions during the war?"

"Course I do. It's hard to forget fifty thousand dollars in gold. What's that got to do with those men?"

"Only one man knows where it's located. Oh, he's always maintained he doesn't know but I was there when the Colonel told him to take charge of it. The Captain and six others took that gold. Their bodies were discovered two days later. Only one man survived and he insisted he has no idea what happened to the gold."

"I take it the Captain is one of those seven men," Watkins said.

"He certainly was," Donaldson grinned as he watched the horses disappear from sight.

"Which one is the Captain?"

"Captain Christopher Larabee. That's why I let them go. Wicks shot Larabee. I'm hoping that dark skinned healer of theirs can pull him through."

"How are you gonna know?"

"I have an ace in the hole. Or should I say an ace in Four Corners."

"What ace?"

"Lydia. She's the reason I found out about Larabee in the first place."

"Can she be trusted?"

"I have the one thing that'll keep her in hand."

"What's that?"

"I have her son. Five years ago she had a baby. I'm that baby's father and I was able to take custody of him. I haven't seen him in years but he's living with a relative of mine. If Lydia doesn't do as she's told then the lad suffers."

"But, he's your own son," Watkins said disgustedly.

"He's a means to an end, Watkins. He keeps Lydia in line and in my bed if I so choose. Now all we have to do is wait to hear from her," Donaldson said, a smile on his face. "Let's go have a drink. I feel like celebrating."

~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time they rode into Four Corners Chris had developed a fever and was sweating profusely. Sanchez reached up to lift the smaller man from the horse and carried him up to Jackson's clinic.

The group all showed signs of exhaustion but followed the preacher up the stairs and waited for word on the injured leader.

"Ezra, would you see if Inez has anything to eat and ask her to get some broth going. JD, get me some water. Vin, sit down before you fall down. Mrs. Travis, I'll need your help with Chris. Buck check Vin's arm and make sure it ain't bleedin' anymore. Josiah, let's get that shirt off him," Jackson ordered as he touched the blonds sweat soaked hair.

Mary watched as the two men removed the shirt that covered the blond's upper body. Sweat glistened off the exposed chest as they lay him back against the pillow. His breath came in pained gasps as she knelt beside the bed. His glazed green eye turned to meet hers and she gasped at the fear she saw there.

"I'm s...sorry, M...Mary, didn't mean..."

"Sh, Chris, you just relax and let us take care of you," Mary Travis soothed, understanding that the fear on his face was more for her than himself. Even in his fevered state his first thought was for her.

"M...Mary, Y...you ok?" he asked as another wave of pain and nausea assaulted his tired body.

"I'm fine, Chris, it's you we're all worried about," she said as she took the water from JD and began to sponge his fevered brow.

"Chris, I'm gonna have to check that wound now. You gotta be real still for a couple of minutes," Jackson said.

"I'll t...try, Nate," the blond smiled weakly as he felt Josiah take hold of his upper body.

"Hey, Brother Chris, You just hang on to me now and let Nathan take care of you," Sanchez said as he tried to take the injured man's mind off what was about to happen.

"E...easy for y...you to say, Josiah," Larabee moaned as Nathan removed the blood soaked bandage from his chest.

"Chris, I'm gonna clean it and put in some stitches. This won't take long," Jackson said as he poured a liberal amount of whiskey over the bloodied wound.

The gunslinger's body reacted instinctively as he tried to pull away from the cause of his torment. He bit back a muffled cry as Josiah used his own strength to hold the injured man down.

"I heard Chris was hurt," Lydia cried as she opened the door and hurried into the room.

"Lydia, stay out of the way," Wilmington snapped as he grabbed her arm, stopping her from reaching the bed.

"How bad?" she asked as she tried to jerk her arm out of his vice like grip.

"Wicks shot him in the chest," Wilmington answered.

"Is he alright?" she asked as she watched Nathan Jackson stitch up the wound.

"He should be," Wilmington told her.

"I knew I should've come with you," Lydia 's voice was filled with sorrow as she watched the healer care for the injured blond.

"W...what good w...would that have d...done, Lydia. Cept m...maybe get y...yourself killed," Larabee said.

"Chris, you just lie there and be quiet so's I can finish this," Jackson ordered.

"Y...yes, Sir," the blond hissed as sweat poured off his fevered brow. He groaned as the healers needle bit into his torn flesh.

"All done, Chris," Jackson said as he broke the final piece of thread.

"B...bout time," Larabee mumbled as Sanchez eased him down on the bed.

"I want you to drink some of this, Chris," Jackson said as he lifted the sweat soaked blond head off the pillow.

"W...hat is it?"

"Something to help with the pain and fever. Now open up," the healer ordered.

"Whiskey'd be a lot b...better. It'd t...taste better too," the blond grinned hopefully at the healer.

"You won't be seein' any whiskey for awhile, Chris, now come on and drink this," he held the cup to the trembling lips and waited for the injured man to drink it.

"E...enough," the blond said as he lay back and closed his eyes against the rapidly spinning room. Nathan watched as his breathing evened out and his patient seemed to be sleeping.

"Is he gonna be alright, Nathan?" Tanner asked from the bed he sat on.

"I don't know, Vin, he's lost a lot of blood and the trip back here caused him to lose even more. He's runnin' a fever and that's gonna sap some of his strength as well. I'm afraid all we can do is keep tryin' to cool him down and make sure he don't try anything foolish. Now let's have a look at your arm."

Mary Travis glared at Lydia as she continued to bathe the unconscious man. Her anger over the women being in Four Corners had left her when she talked to the young prostitute Wicks had beaten. She felt sorry for the women but she also blamed them for what had happened to her and the man lying in the bed. She knew it wasn't really their fault but her worry for Chris Larabee was clouding her mind.

Lydia felt Mary's eyes on her and knew she'd lied about there being nothing between her and Chris Larabee. She could tell by the way the Travis woman talked soothingly to the injured man that there was something more to the relationship then just friendship, she just wouldn't admit it. Lydia smiled and turned away.

"There you go, Vin, now you just take it easy with that arm. The rest of you go get something to eat and some rest."

"I ain't leavin' Nathan," Tanner said as he walked over and sat opposite Mary Travis. He could feel the heat radiating from the unconscious man. He lifted his eyes until he met those of Mary Travis. The two smiled and returned their attention to the man on the bed.

"Alright, Vin, you stay," Jackson smiled to himself at getting something he wanted in the first place. Vin's wound wasn't serious but Jackson wanted him to spend a day or two under his watchful eye. "The rest of us'll go eat and I'll bring you back something. Mrs. Travis, you should get some rest as well," the healer said as he herded the others from the room.

"I will, Nathan, I'm just gonna stay for a few more minutes," she assured him as she continued care for injured man.

"Just make sure you do. You need to look after yourself," Jackson said as he closed the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chris Larabee struggled to open his eyes. He couldn't understand why his right arm wouldn't respond to his orders and his mouth felt as if it were filled with cobwebs. He groaned as he shifted on the tiny bed. He could hear soothing voices but the pain had reawakened with his small movements and he could not remember where he was or why he was hurting. Something cold was held to his lips and he drank greedily from the cup.

"Easy there, Chris, not too much," Jackson said.

"T...thirsty," the blond mumbled weakly, opening his eyes and snapping them closed against the bright light streaming through the open window.

"I know you are but it ain't gonna help if you lose what you take in. I'll give you a little more in a few minutes. How do you feel?"

"B...been b...better, Nate, what happened?" he asked as he forced his eyes open and fought to keep them that way.

"What do you remember?"

Chris lifted his left hand and rubbed his tired eyes trying to picture the elusive memory that played on the outer edge of his mind. A clear image of Mary Travis tied to a bed drove him upwards. "Wicks has M...Mary," he cried as the pain left him gasping for breath.

Jackson caught the blond before he came totally off the bed and eased him back on his pillows. "Oh no you don't, Chris. You just lie there," he ordered.

"G...gotta go g...get M...Mary. Damnit Nathan l...let me go," the blond hissed, grimacing as he fought against the healer.

"Chris, Mary is safe. I just kicked her and Vin out of here. They been sittin' with ya since we got back from Wickstown."

"Mary's ok?" he asked as he settled into the soft pillow.

"She's fine. Worried about you just like the rest of us," Jackson said.

"Everybody's ok?"

"Everybody except you. Now you're gonna lay there and let yourself heal. Between that wound and the fever you're probably feeling mighty weak."

"How l...long?" he asked as he placed his left hand over the throbbing wound.

"Three days since we got back from Wickstown," Jackson answered as he checked the wound in Larabee's upper chest. He watched the injured man's face curl up in a grimace as he pulled the bandage away from the wound. "Sorry, Chris," the healer said as checked the stitches. The wound itself was slightly red but there didn't seem to be any sign of infection.

"S'ok," the blond slurred as he waited for the healer to finish what he was doing.

"Feel like drinking a little broth?"

"Not right n...now, Nate," Larabee said as the healer put a new bandage over the wound.

"Chris, ya ain't gonna get better if you don't try to drink some of it. The longer it takes to get your strength up the longer you'll be flat on your back in my clinic. Understand?"

"I u...understand, Nate," Larabee smiled weakly.

"So you gonna try some?"

"Y...you don't l...leave me much choice."

"That's right I don't. Now open up," he said as he placed a spoon in front of the injured man's mouth.

"I c...can do it, Nate. J...just sit me up."

"You gotta be one of the most stubborn men I've ever known, Chris," Jackson said as he lifted the weak man and placed extra pillows behind his head. He waited for his friend to get his breath back and then eased the tray in front of him.

Chris used his left hand and began sipping the bland tasting broth. He managed to eat a quarter of the bowl when he felt his eyelids grow heavy. Breathing deeply he snuggled down into his pillow and was soon sleeping again.

Nathan smiled at the man and had to move quickly as his tiny movements nearly upended the tray. He touched the blond's forehead and grinned when he heard the low voice telling him to stop worrying so much.

"How is he, Nathan?" Tanner asked as he came back from his forced absence.

"He's better, Vin, the fever broke and he managed to eat a little broth," Jackson said. "When I lift him pull out the extra pillows."

"Sure Nathan," Tanner said as he helped the healer settle the older man back on the bed. "I'll sit with him if you want to stretch your legs, Nathan," Tanner said as he sat on the chair next to his friend's bed.

"Thanks, Vin, if he wakes up and needs something for pain give him a little Laudanum," Jackson ordered.

"I will," Tanner said and waited for the door to close. He listened to his friend's even breathing, relishing the small rise and fall of his chest. He could see the dark bruise peeking out from under the white bandages on the man's upper chest. He closed his eyes and again replayed the shooting in his mind. If he'd been a split second earlier Wicks would never have got the shot off and Chris would not be lying here fighting to get his life back. "Hey, Chris, Nathan says you were awake. That's great news Cowboy. Ya had me scared to death for a while there. Ain't never let no one close ta me least not since my ma died but yer different. For some reason I found it easy ta let you in and so help me, Chris, I ain't gonna let ya go without a fight. I'm gonna be here for ya, Pard, the same way yer always here for me. Just rest knowing I'm here watchin' yer back."

"A...always do, T...Tanner," the blond mumbled weakly.

"Ya playin' possum, Cowboy?"

"No, somebody keeps talkin' and keepin' me awake," Larabee smiled as he opened his eyes and looked at the younger man.

"How are you feeling, Pard?"

"I'm fine, Vin," a grimace of pain on his face as he tried to find a comfortable spot.

"Sure, Pard. Here, Nathan said to give ya some of this," Tanner said as he spooned some Laudanum into his friend's mouth.

Chris swallowed before he had a chance to think and a moan escaped him as he realized what his friend had given him. "Traitor," he said weakly.

"Hey, I'm only followin' Nathan's orders. Go ta sleep Cowboy," he said as he watched his friend's eyelids droop.

"With you watchin' my back I'll sleep easy, Pard," the blond said and sank into a restful sleep, knowing his best friend was there to keep him safe.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Lydia."

Lydia looked up as a man she recognized from Wickstown sat across from her. "What are you doing here, Percy?"

"Roy wants to know how Larabee's doing?"

"You tell Roy that Chris Larabee was shot in the chest by Wicks. How does he think he's doing?" Lydia asked softly, her voice tinged with anger.

"Lydia, you'd better watch that temper of yours. Can't have anyone overhearing our conversation. Now when do you think you'll be able to get Larabee out of town?"

"You go back and tell him I don't want to go through with this," Lydia said.

"Roy said you were going to say that so he wanted me to give you this," Watkins said as he handed her a tiny, worn wagon. He watched her face grow sad and wondered what the story behind the wagon was.

Lydia held the wagon close to her heart and forced the tears back. She thought of the day she'd given this toy to her son and wondered if she'd ever get to see his sparkling blue eyes again. "Tell Roy I'll let him know as soon as I find out. Right now he's still in Jackson's clinic. The wound was serious and he developed a fever. He's getting better now."

"I'll tell him, Lydia, you just better make sure no one finds out about it," Watkins said as he left the woman holding the wagon.

'I'm sorry, Chris,' she thought as she stared at the tiny toy. 'I have no choice but to do as he says,' tears glistened in her sad eyes as she tucked the item into the folds of her skirt. She stood up from the table and slowly made her way out the door and hurried in the direction of Nathan Jackson's clinic.

~~~~~~~~~

Vin Tanner looked up as the door to the clinic opened and Lydia walked in. He signalled for her to be quiet indicating the sleeping man in the bed.

Lydia was relieved that Mary Travis was not there as she walked towards the bed. "How's he doing?" she asked quietly.

"He's gettin' better," Tanner answered. "The fever finally broke but he's still in a lot of pain."

"It's my fault he's hurt. I should have followed you guys that day. Maybe I could've stopped that miserable son of a bitch before he had a chance to shoot Chris," her soft voice was filled with anger.

Vin looked up to see the sadness in her eyes. "Wasn't your fault, Lydia. Wicks was lookin' for an excuse ta shoot one of us. It jest happened ta be Chris he found. Ya couldn't have done anythin' about it."

"Listen to Vin, Lydia, it wasn't your fault."

"Yer supposed ta be sleepin', Cowboy," Tanner grinned as he watched two green eyes slowly open and look around.

"Sick of sleeping. I want to get outta here," the blond told him.

"That ain't gonna happen today, Pard, so ya might as well forget it."

"How are you feeling, Chris?" Lydia asked, worried about the paleness of his skin.

"I'm fine, Lydia," he said, smiling weakly. "Get rid of that guilty look. None of this was your fault."

"If we hadn't left. If we hadn't stayed here..."

"You'd probably be dead," Larabee said simply. "Wicks is the bad guy in this, Lydia. You have nothing to feel guilty about."

'Oh yes I do, Chris. You'll hate me by the time this is through,' she thought as a tear slipped from her eyes. "Wicks would never have taken Mrs. Travis if we hadn't come here."

"What's done is done. Wicks is dead and won't be hurting anyone else. You've got a chance to start over now without having to worry about him hurting you or one of the other ladies."

"The others have decided to go to San Francisco," she told him.

"Thought Ezra was fixing them up with husbands," Tanner said.

"None of em want to be tied down to one man," Lydia said, a tiny smile on her face.

"What about you, Lydia? Are you going to go with them?" Larabee asked.

"No. There's nothing in San Francisco for me. I'm going to stick around here for a while. I kinda like the scenery and would like to find out more about it," she said, her eyes boring into Chris's green ones.

Chris couldn't help the smile that formed on his face. He'd been seeing Lydia for a while now but he didn't share her romantic interest. "I'm sorry, Lydia, I'm just not interested in that kind of relationship right now," he told her.

"Because of Mary Travis?"

"Mary and I are just friends."

"That's funny, Chris, she said the same thing and neither of you are very good liars. It's too bad you and I couldn't get together. I think it could've been a wild ride," Lydia said.

"I bet it would have been," the blond stifled a yawn as the little energy he'd built up left him.

"I'll let you get some rest, Chris. Is it ok if I come back to see you later?" she asked.

"Course it is, Lydia," Larabee said as his eyes closed.

"He's a good man," Lydia whispered softly.

"Yes he is," Tanner agreed as he watched the woman wipe the tears from her eyes. "Are you alright, Ma'am?"

"I'm fine, Vin, just a little tired. I'll be back later," she told him.

"Chris'd like that," Tanner smiled as she nodded and left the clinic. 'I thought Buck was the ladies man, Cowboy, but I think I'm wrong. Ya got two beautiful ladies lookin' out for ya,' he thought with a grin.

~~~~~~~~~

"Come on, Nathan, let me outta here," Larabee begged three days later.

"Chris, I told you to give it one more day and that's all there is to it. You go moving around too much and you'll open up that wound. If that happens, my friend, it'll mean another week of lying in that bed. Now shut up and eat your breakfast," Jackson said as he placed the tray on the injured man's lap.

Larabee's eyes shot up at the usually quiet healer's angry voice. "Whoa, what's got you so damned upset? I'm the one who's been stuck in this bed for five days."

"You really want to know what's got me upset, Chris?"

"Guess so," Larabee answered, not at all sure he wanted the answer.

"You and the other five fools I call friends. Every damn time one of you is hurt it comes down to the same thing. When can I get outta here? Well let me tell you I'm sick of it. I let you guys go early and you just end up back in here cause you do whatever you damned well please once you're outta my sight," Jackson hissed.

"Am I interrupting something?" Mary Travis asked as she stood in the open door to the clinic.

Jackson shook his head as the pretty blond entered the room and walked over to the bed, "Nothing important," the healer said as he picked up the soiled bandages he'd removed from Chris's chest wound earlier that morning. "Can you stay with him, Mrs. Travis?" he asked.

"Sure, Nathan," Mary said as Jackson hurriedly left the room. "What did you do to make Nathan so angry, Chris?" she asked as she watched him eat the small amount of breakfast on his tray.

"I asked him to let me outta here," Larabee said sheepishly.

"You did what?" Mary asked, her own anger beginning to show.

"Hey, wait a minute. Not you too. I'm fine and this hardly even hurts anymore," he answered, indicating the throbbing wound in his chest.

"I can see by your face that you're lying. Why can't you guys just admit you're human and give yourselves a chance to heal? I feel sorry for Nathan every time one of you ends up in here. It's a wonder he's not a heavy drinker," she said, her eyes filled with smouldering fire.

"Shoot, Mary, you really know how to hurt a guy," Larabee muttered as he bit into a piece of toast. "Tell you what I'll do. I'll lie here for the rest of the day and won't hassle Nathan over anything until tomorrow."

"Why tomorrow?"

"Because he says I can get outta this damn bed tomorrow," he answered.

"So why were you hassling him to get up today?"

"I'm just tired of being stuck here."

"It won't be for much longer, Chris, and you'll feel better if you stay put and obey Nathan's orders."

"Was never one for obeying orders. My commanding officers used to give me heck about it all the time," he grinned at the memory.

"How long were you in the army, Chris?" Mary asked curiously.

"Five years," Larabee answered, closing his eyes and blotting out the memory of the last mission he'd performed. Six faces flashed before his eyes, six men who'd died because they believed in something.

"What's wrong?" Mary asked as she noticed the pained look on his face.

"Nothing, Mary, I'm just tired," he lied as he pushed the tray away.

"Aren't you gonna finish your breakfast?"

"I had enough. Right now I just want to sleep," he lied, closing his eyes as memories of the six dead men and the lost gold shipment flashed through his mind.

Mary removed the barely touched tray and set it on the table. She sat back in the chair and thought of the changes this man had brought to her life in the short time she'd known him. 'Lady, I am the bad element,' she smiled as she thought of those words spoken softly by him the day after he'd helped save Nathan Jackson from hanging. 'No, Chris, you're not the bad element. There's so much good in you if you'd only give it a chance. I've seen the changes you've brought to this town and the people in it and it's all been for the better. Give yourself a chance to get well and maybe I'll be able to make up for the falsehoods I wrote that day,' she thought sadly.

~~~~~~~~~~

The dreams tormented Chris even as his eyes opened and came to rest on the longhaired tracker.

Vin saw the sorrow in the blond's eyes and wondered what he'd been dreaming about that could have given him such a lost look. "Hey, Cowboy, musta been some dream."

"More like a nightmare," Larabee gasped as he tried to sit up in the bed, grimacing with the effort it took.

"Let me help ya," Tanner offered as he sat the Gunslinger forward and placed a couple of pillows behind him.

"Thanks," Chris smiled gratefully.

"Welcome. Wanna tell me about the nightmare?"

"Nothing to tell really. Just some old ghosts coming back."

"I've had my share of ghosts. Any time ya feel like talkin' bout these particular ones jest let me know."

The blond smiled at the younger man. "Thanks, I'll keep it in mind. Got any whiskey, Vin?"

Tanner grinned as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver flask. "Think this'll do, Cowboy?" he asked, uncorking the bottle.

"Just what the doctor ordered," Larabee answered, taking the flask and letting the liquid burn a fiery trail down the back of his throat. He smiled as he savoured the awakening senses. "Thanks, Pard," he said as he passed the flask back.

"Any idea when Nathan's letting ya outta here?" Tanner asked as he took a sip from the flask.

"He said tomorrow."

"Not if you keep drinking that stuff," Jackson scolded as he entered the room in time to see the blond tip the familiar flask to his lips.

"Shoot, Nate, its only whiskey," Larabee said as he passed the flask back to a chagrined Vin Tanner.

"I told you no whiskey for at least another week. You start bleeding again and the whiskey will only make matters worse. Thought I warned all of you about giving him that stuff," Jackson said as he took the flask and slid it into his own pocket.

"Didn't drink that much, Nate," Larabee told him.

"That's only cause I caught ya. Now be quiet and let me look at that wound," Jackson snapped as he removed the bandages from his patient's chest.

By the time he was through poking and prodding Chris was happy he'd been given the small amount of whiskey. "Finished yet?" he asked.

"Almost," Jackson said as he replaced the bandages and lay the injured man back against the pillows. "Now, Chris, I know I said you can get out of here tomorrow but that doesn't mean you can do whatever you want. You're gonna need to take it real easy for a while yet."

"I will, Nate."

Jackson laughed at the blond's usual answer, knowing he'd forget it as soon as he was out the door and away from probing, watchful eyes. "Sure you will," he quipped. "How would you like to sit outside for awhile?"

"Really?" Larabee asked.

"Really," Buck and Josiah are setting up a chair for you on the landing. I'm warning you to stay put and not try anything while you're out there."

"I promise, Nathan, anything to get outta this damn bed," Larabee said as he struggled to sit up.

"Just lay there for another few minutes. I'll see if Buck and Josiah have everything ready. Then Vin and I will help you out there and no more whiskey!"

"How can I? You took the flask."

"Chris."

"Sorry," the blond laughed.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Hi, Chris," Lydia said as she joined the man on the landing outside Jackson's clinic.

"Lydia," Larabee smiled as he sipped at the strong black coffee in his mug.

"You look better than you did the last time I saw you," she grinned as she sat on the floor next to him.

"Thanks, I think," he said as he placed the hot cup on the railing. "Have you decided what you're going to do?"

"I was going to stick around a little longer but I think I'll be leaving Four Corners by the end of next week."

"Where are you gonna go?"

"Thought I'd go back east. Maybe look up some family and get a respectable job. Unless you think we might have a chance?" she asked hopefully.

"Lydia, I'm not looking for anything permanent right now. Don't waste your time on me cause I'm not worth it."

"Don't sell yourself short, Chris. You're worth more than you'll ever know to a lot of people, me included," Lydia told him.

"There's a lot of people who wouldn't agree with you," Larabee said as he picked up his coffee once again. They both looked up as Mary Travis joined them.

"Hello, Chris. Lydia," she said.

"Afternoon, Mary," greeted the gunslinger.

"Mrs. Travis," Lydia said a touch of coldness in her voice.

"How are you today, Chris?" Mary asked, trying to ignore the longing she saw in Lydia's eyes as she looked at the injured man.

"Much better, Mary. In fact I'm getting out from under Nathan's watchful eyes tomorrow."

"I wouldn't say that, Chris," Jackson laughed as he joined the three people enjoying the sunny afternoon. "I'll still be watching you."

"Shoot, Nathan, might as well hole up in my room if you're gonna be watching me," Larabee complained.

"If I thought it would work I'd threaten to watch you constantly," Jackson quipped.

"We'll all be watching you, Chris," Mary warned him.

"I told you not to sell yourself short," Lydia said seriously.

"Any more coffee, Nate," Larabee asked, trying to turn the conversation away from himself, smiling when it actually worked for a change.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Early the next morning Chris Larabee sat in front of the saloon, an untouched plate of breakfast before him, and a hot mug of coffee in his hand. Nathan had released him just after dawn, helping him dress in a clean dark shirt and black jeans. His customary pearl handled revolver sat snugly on his hip. His black hat tipped back as he soaked in the warm rays of the sun. The town was just coming to life as he finished his second cup of coffee. He watched as the longhaired tracker slowly sauntered towards him. To anyone else the man was relaxed but Chris could feel the tension behind the straight shoulders, the constantly searching blue eyes, and the determined set of his jaw. "Problem, Vin?" he asked as his friend stopped in front of him.

"I'm not sure, Cowboy, I was out ta Netties and noticed some men setting up camp a couple of miles from her place. They don't look friendly so I figured I'd best get the boys and ride out."

"How many?"

"Maybe a dozen or so."

"I'll meet you at the livery in ten minutes," Larabee said standing quickly, only to drop back into his chair as the movement made him dizzy.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Cowboy. We'll handle those men. Ya just stay put and take it easy."

"There's to many of em if they are trouble. You need me, Vin," he said as he tried to get to his feet once more.

"Need ya ta stay here and keep an eye on the town, Chris, sides Nathan ain't gonna let ya ride and ya know it," Tanner told him.

"Guess you're right, Pard. Take the others and check out that camp. Just make sure you don't go getting into any trouble along the way," Larabee said as he watched his friend walk away.

"Now what kinda trouble could we possibly get into," Tanner called over his shoulder, causing Chris to choke on the coffee he'd been sipping.

Half an hour later Chris watched as his friends rode out of town, leaving a trail of dust billowing up behind the galloping horses. He longed to join them but his second attempt to stand had caused a wave of dizziness to assault his senses once again.

"You never even touched your breakfast, Senor Chris," Inez said as she picked up the untouched plate from the small table.

"Not hungry, Inez, maybe later," he said.

"Senor Jackson said you are to eat," she told him.

"Senor Jackson is always after me to eat. I promise I'll eat whatever you make for lunch," he told her.

"Is there something I could make special for you?"

"Maybe some of that thick beef stew of yours."

"I think I could do that for you, Senor."

"Thanks, Inez," he said as she walked back into the saloon.

Chris sat watching the town, worrying about his friends and sipping the strong coffee Inez supplied him with. Two hours after the others left he was standing in the livery silently rubbing down his dark horse.

"Chris."

He turned as the soft voice spoke his name. "Something wrong, Lydia?" he asked. Lydia's sobs cut through his heart and he stepped towards her.

"No. Don't come near me, Chris," she said, keeping her face hidden in the shadows, her right hand covering her cheek.

"What's wrong?" he asked again, ignoring her plea that he stay away. He pulled her hand away from her cheek, cursing loudly as he saw the darkening purple bruise encompassing most of her right cheek and eye. "Who the hell did this to you?" he asked angrily.

"An old friend," she sobbed into his chest.

"Some friend," the blond snarled. "Where is he?"

"He's waiting for me just outside of town," she answered.

"Waiting for you for what?"

"He's taking me to Boston with him. I don't have the money to get there myself so I made him an offer."

"What kind of offer?" Larabee asked, his eyes showing he knew and understood the offer she'd made.

"I don't have a choice, Chris, there's nothing here for me," she told him sadly.

"There are other ways, Lydia, I can lend you the money to get you started," he offered.

"I don't want charity," she sobbed.

"Won't be charity. You can pay me back when you get on your feet."

She pushed out of his arms and shook her head. "No, I can't. I'm sorry, Chris, I wish things could've been different but they're not," she said as she hurried out of the livery.

"Damn," the blond cursed his weakness as he watched her climb onto a saddled horse and ride out of town. He carefully saddled Pony, led him outside, climbed onto his back, and breathed deeply to quell his growing dizziness.

"Chris, where are you going?"

"I'll be back in a few minutes, Mary," Larabee said as he turned the horse in the direction he'd seen Lydia disappear.

"You're not supposed to be riding," she said as she walked beside him, her hand on his thigh.

"I'm not going far, Mary. Look, this is something I have to do," he told her as he removed her hand and headed out of town.

'Stubborn idiotic fool,' she thought as she strode towards her office. 'Go ahead, kill yourself for all I care.'

Chris followed the narrow road out of town, swaying slightly in the saddle as he tried to stay upright. A soft whinny from his own horse was soon answered by another one off to his right. "Lydia," he called, groaning as his chest protested the effort it took to call out.

"Hello, Captain."

Chris looked at the man standing next to Lydia, his eyes widening in shock as he recognized a face from his past. "Donaldson, you son of a bitch," he said as he tumbled from the horse, grabbing the saddle horn in an effort to stand up. He tried to pull his gun from its holster but was stopped as another man struck his wrist, sending shooting agony up through his arm to mingle with the agony in his chest.

"Tie him up and get him back on his horse. We have to get out of here before the others get back," Donaldson said, wrapping his arms around Lydia. "You did wonderfully, my dear," he told her.

"Lydia," Larabee gasped as his arms were pulled in front of him and secured with a length of rope.

She looked at him with hooded eyes. "I'm sorry, Chris."

"Gag him," Donaldson ordered. "Can't have him calling out for help."

The second man shoved a dirty rag in Larabee's mouth and then lifted him up on his horse. Chris used his bound hands to grab the saddle horn as the second man threw his reins to Donaldson.

Lydia felt the intense cold green eyes drilling into her back as she climbed on her own horse. 'I'm sorry, Chris, you don't deserve this but I don't have a choice,' she thought as they rode away from Four Corners.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Looks like you were wrong, Vin," Dunne said as they watched the group of men breaking camp.

"I don't know, JD. Think I'll just go down and make sure they're leaving."

"We'll go down, you mean, Brother."

Tanner smiled at the ex-preacher. "Ya heard him, JD, we'll go down."

The six lawmen rode into the partially dismantled camp. "Who's in charge here?" Tanner asked.

"That'd be me. My name's Hiram Winters and these are my men," a grey haired man said as he walked towards them. "Can I do something for you fellas?"

"Just checking to see if ya'll needed help," Jackson said.

"No, don't think so anyways. We just stopped here for the night. What's it to you fellas anyway?"

"We're the law in this area, Mister," Dunne answered.

"The law. You fellas part a that group they's callin' the Magnificent seven?" Winters asked, admiration evident on his wrinkled face.

"Well now I don't think I've ever heard that name before but there are seven of us," Jackson replied.

"Looks like yer missin' one," Winters said.

"He's back in town."

"Well it's an honor to meet you fellas and I'd love to talk some more but we gotta be movin' on if we expect to meet up with the rest of the drovers."

"Thanks fer yer time," Tanner grinned as he turned his horse back the way they'd come.

"I must say it's rather startling to have your instincts be wrong, Mr. Tanner," Standish teased as he caught up with the sharpshooter.

"If it means no bloodshed, Ez, I'd like to be wrong all the time," Tanner smiled at the gambler.

"Bet ol' Chris will be shocked to see us comin' back with good news for a change," Wilmington commented.

"Halleluiah, Brothers," Sanchez shouted as he rode past the others.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris could feel his strength fading. He squinted his eyes against the glare of the sun and the sweat that streamed into his eyes. Breathing deeply he tried to stay upright but soon found himself sliding to the side.

"Hey, Roy, ya best do somethin' bout the Captain. He ain't lookin' too good."

Donaldson stopped his horse and turned just in time to see the blond sliding from the saddle. He reached out and caught the injured man, shifting him back onto the horse. "Fred, grab some rope and tie him on," he ordered. "We don't have time to stop right now. There's no tellin' how long before his friends come after us."

"He needs help, Roy," Lydia said.

Donaldson reached out and grabbed her wrist, twisting viciously. "Not now, Lydia" he snarled. "You can look after your lover when we stop for the night."

"I told you he's not my lover," she cried as he brutally squeezed her wrist to the breaking point.

"Not cause you didn't want him to be. Did the gunslinger turn you down, Lydia?"

Her eyes grew cold as she wrenched her hand from his grip. She rubbed the abused area and screamed at her son's father. "That's right, Roy, he did. He turned me down and I wish the hell he hadn't. He's the only decent thing to happen to me since my son was born."

"Don't you mean our son?"

Larabee barely heard the conversation between the two people before him. His head buzzed incessantly, his eyes blurred, and his chest throbbed as he was bound to the saddle. The dirty rag in his mouth caused his stomach to churn and he had to fight against the nausea.

Donaldson laughed as he looked into Larabee's face. "What's the matter, Captain? You're lookin' a little sick there."

Chris's green eyes shot daggers at the man in front of him. Donaldson had been with the gang of outlaws and renegades who'd killed his men and nearly beaten him to death. He'd always wanted to meet up with him again but not like this. He groaned as Donaldson took the reins and they moved forward again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mary Travis was worried. She'd watched Chris Larabee ride out of town with a feeling of foreboding. She shivered as he disappeared beyond the bend in the road. Somehow she knew things had just turned bad for the blond gunslinger.

Hours later she stood in the middle of the road as the six lawmen returned to Four Corners.

"Evenin' Mrs. Travis," Tanner said as he pulled his horse to a stop in front of the woman.

She reached out her hand, touched the sharpshooter's horse and tried to keep her voice calm. "Thank God you're back."

"What's wrong?" Wilmington asked worriedly, his eyes roaming the front of the saloon searching for the blond gunslinger.

"Where's Chris?" Jackson asked.

"He rode out of here about four hours ago."

"Damned fool," Jackson cursed. "I knew I shouldn't have let him outta my sight so soon. He's gonna bust open all those stitches."

"Which way did he go, Ma'am?" Tanner asked.

"He was headed south, Vin. I think he was following Lydia. She left just before he did and she seemed kind of upset. Yosemite went out and checked the area. He was able to track Chris's horse to a clearing just south of here."

"Thanks, Ma'am. Let's ride, boys," the sharpshooter ordered.

"Wait, there's more. Yosemite says he met up with four other horses."

"Looks like Brother Chris got himself a heap of trouble," Sanchez said as the six men turned the horses away from the worried blond.

"You may be right, Josiah," Wilmington agreed.

"We've got no idea how long we'll be gone and I don't like the idea of leaving the town unprotected," Tanner said as he looked at each of the men. "JD, you and Ezra stay here. I just don't feel right about those men out past Nettie's place."

"I thought we agreed that those trespassers were harmless," Standish said.

"I'm not so sure, Ez, that's why I'd like you and JD to stay here. Me, Buck, Nate, and Josiah can handle the search for Chris."

"Alright, Vin," Dunne said, his face clearly showing his disappointment.

"You and Ez watch your backs, Kid," Wilmington told the younger man.

"Rest assured we shall endeavour to do so, Mr. Wilmington," Standish said as he, JD, and Mary Travis watched the four men ride out of town.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris wasn't sure how he stayed conscious. The wound in his chest was bleeding again, not much but he could feel the sticky substance on the bandage. The throbbing was slowly becoming an unbearable agony. Each step his horse took sent shivers of pain through him. The gag prevented him from crying out and he bit down on the dirty material. Once in a while Lydia would turn to him, her eyes tinged with sorrow and he knew there was something behind her betrayal of him. Somehow he'd find out what it was and hopefully turn it to his advantage.

"The horses are gettin' tired, Roy," Watkins said as he rode up beside Donaldson.

"I know that, Percy, but if we stop now it gives the Captain's gang a chance to catch up to us. There's a farm just ahead, we'll get fresh horses there," Donaldson told him.

"What if they don't want to give us fresh horses?"

"Then we'll take them," Donaldson laughed. "How do you feel about stealing, Captain?"

Chris ignored the man's question. He knew who the farm belonged to and knew they were well stocked with horseflesh. He just hoped they'd listen to these men and let them trade. He didn't trust Donaldson and was worried about the unsuspecting family. He could see the house ahead of them as dusk began to overtake the landscape. 'Please don't be home, Tom,' he thought as they hurried towards the farmhouse. Smoke billowing from the chimney told him the family was indeed at home and they were probably just sitting down for the evening meal.

Donaldson held his hand up and issued an order to stop. He pulled Larabee's horse up to him and ripped the cloth from the pale man's mouth.

Chris sucked in huge breaths of fresh air. His head spinning as he did so.

"You know the family who lives here, Captain?" Donaldson asked.

Larabee's mouth was dry and his voice came out in coughing gasps. "Y...yeah."

Lydia opened her canteen and placed it in front of the blond's mouth, watching as he drank greedily from it.

"That's enough, Lydia," Donaldson ordered.

"Thanks," the gunslinger said gratefully.

"Well, Captain, do you know the family that lives here?"

"Yeah," Larabee repeated.

"Very good. Would you like to see them alive when we leave here?"

"Yes," the one word answer spoke volumes.

"Good, then it'll be up to you to get them to give us fresh horses," Donaldson laughed. "Untie his hands, Fred." Donaldson watched as Larabee's hands were released and he rubbed the raw wrists. "Now we're gonna ride up to the house and you're gonna talk to that family. Don't forget I'll have my gun on you at all times and my men will have theirs on that family. You got that?"

"I got it, Donaldson," Larabee answered. He watched as the other man emptied his pearl handle pistol and dropped it into his holster. Chris knew the gun was empty but there was something comforting in the feel of it against his leg.

"Alright, Captain, let's go see how well you know this family," Donaldson said as he flipped Larabee the reins to his own horse.

The gunslinger thought about taking off and warning the family but soon found himself hemmed in on both sides.

"Don't think about it, Captain. The lives or deaths of those people depend on you behaving yourself.

Ten minutes later they rode up to the farmhouse. Chris got off his horse and was soon shadowed by Donaldson. They walked up the steps and Larabee knocked on the door. It was opened an instant later by a young red haired boy.

"Hi, Mr Larabee."

"Hi, Timmy, is your father home?"

"He sure is. Ya wanna come in?"

"No, that's alright, Son, just ask him to come outside for a minute. We're kind of in a hurry."

"Oh, alright," the boy said turning back towards the kitchen. "Pa, Mr. Larabee wants to see you."

"Seems like a nice young fella," Donaldson stated.

"Good evening, Chris, ya got time to join us for supper?"

"Sorry, Tom, we're in a bit of a rush. We're on the trail of a gang of outlaws."

The older man glanced at the man with Larabee. "Where's the rest of your bunch?"

"They were out on patrol when this happened. I had to form a posse in a hurry. I need fresh horses Tom. Think we can leave ours here and borrow a few of yours."

"Sure thing, Chris. You and your men have done me enough favors and it's about time I returned one."

"Thanks, Tom, you go on back to your family. I'll pick out a few horses and we'll leave ours in the corral. I'd appreciate it if you'll give em some feed."

"No problem. You feeling alright, Son? You're lookin' kinda pale."

"I'm fine, just a little tired. Thanks, Tom," Larabee said as he turned away from the farmer. He didn't breathe till he heard the door close.

"You did real good, Captain," Donaldson sneered as they walked off the stoop.

Twenty minutes later an exhausted Chris Larabee found himself back on a horse with his hands bound to the saddle horn and his feet tied to the stirrups.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darkness surrounded them as the four men tried to pick up the tracks left by the party they were trailing.

Wilmington's voice was tinged with worry as he stopped his horse next to the kneeling tracker. "We're gonna have to stop for the night, Vin."

"I know, Buck, can't see a damn thing right now," Tanner swore.

"We'll find him, Vin."

"I hope so, Buck," Tanner said walking towards the small stream to water his horse.

"We stopping for the night?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah, ain't no way to track them if we can't see," Wilmington told them.

"Brother Vin ok?" Sanchez asked.

"As ok as he'll be until we find Chris."

"Guess we might as well set up camp for the night," Jackson suggested.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris didn't know how long he'd been unconscious but dawn was beginning to break as Donaldson led the horses into the turbulent stream. The water grew deeper as the horses struggled to stay on their feet.

"You comfortable, Captain?" Donaldson laughed as he watched the man's face grimace in pain.

Larabee glared at his nemesis, the gag in his mouth preventing him from answering. His muffled grunts of pain the only sound he'd made since leaving the farm the night before. The water seeping into his boots was a welcome relief, his fevered body grateful for the soothing cold.

He had no idea how long they travelled downstream. His mind kept wondering in and out of the darkness that threatened to envelope him in a blanket of despair. The ground on the opposite bank was rocky and the horses stumbled as they were led ashore. They travelled inland, away from the river as the sun rose overhead.

A narrow canyon opened up ahead of them and Donaldson drew them to a stop. "Recognize this place, Captain?" he asked as he pulled the gag from his captive's mouth.

Larabee's eyes scanned the area but he saw nothing familiar, "No. Should I?"

"You've been here before. Must've been about fifteen years ago now. Seems like you lost a few men at the time," Donaldson grinned as he watched the blond's face grow angry. "I see I hit a nerve."

"You murdered them," Larabee grated out through clenched teeth.

"Well I can't take all the credit, Captain. I had a little help back then."

"They were only boys," Larabee's words were edged in pain as his mind conjured up images of the young men who'd helped him hide the gold shipment.

"Boys or not, they helped you hide the gold. Fred, get him off his horse. Walt, start setting up camp. Lydia, it'll be up to you to fix something to eat. Percy, you take care of the horses."

"Let me look after Chris first," Lydia begged, stepping up to the man supporting Larabee.

"Ain't much point in helping him, Lydia. Especially if he's still as stubborn as he was when he was in the army. You remember what I did to you back then, Captain? Remember the pain?"

"I remember," Larabee hissed, struggling weakly against the steel grip on his arm.

"This time there won't be anyone to rescue you. The army sure don't know we're out here. They probably wouldn't be interested anyway. If I recall correctly you were discharged shortly after you got out of the hospital. Put him over there and make sure he's tied up nice and tight," Donaldson ordered.

Lydia watched as the injured man's hands were bound behind his back and he was shoved to the ground in front of a large boulder. The pain of her betrayal was firmly ensconced on his face as their eyes met. "You need him alive until you find out where the gold is, Roy. He's not going to last much longer if that chest wound continues to bleed," Lydia said.

"Alright, Lydia, do what you can for him. Just make sure you don't untie his hands."

Lydia took her canteen and reached into the saddlebags on her horse. She pulled out a clean white blouse and began tearing it in strips as she moved towards the injured gunslinger. She knelt in front of him, ignoring the men behind her. "I'm sorry, Chris," she whispered.

Larabee turned away from her, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Let me look at the wound," she said as she tried to open his shirt.

"Don't want your help," he hissed.

"You want to bleed to death?" she asked as she continued to open the buttons.

"What difference does it make? Donaldson plans on killing me anyway."

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"Why'd you do it, Lydia," he asked as her fingers pulled his dark shirt open.

"I didn't have a choice. He's got something that belongs to me," she said as she removed the bandages, causing him to grunt in pain.

"What?"

"My son," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me? We could've done something to get him back."

"Don't you think I've been trying, Chris?" she cried as she removed the bloody bandage and replaced it with a clean one. "Roy took him a year after he was born. The last time I saw my son was when I gave him a little wagon I had made for him. He was wrapped in a handmade blanket I worked on for months before he was born."

The gunslinger looked deep into her sorrowful eyes. He could see the pain she hid there and knew he wouldn't hold this against her. He'd have done anything in his power for Adam and knew she was doing the same. "Lydia, if you help me get out of here we'll find your son together."

"I wish I could believe you, Chris, but he says if I do anything to help you he'll kill Shane. I can't chance that," she told him as she held the canteen to his lips.

"Alright, Lydia, you've spent enough time with the captain. Get over here and fix something for us to eat," Donaldson shouted from his spot by the fire.

The gunslinger watched her walk away. His chest ached where she'd cleaned and bandaged it. He knew some of the stitches had come apart and he wished he was back under Nathan Jackson's watchful eyes. It wasn't long before exhaustion and pain won out and he closed his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tom Wilson's farm is just up ahead. Looks like they headed that way," Tanner said as the four men spurred their horses towards the farm. The tracker worked steadily through the day and his body was showing the effects of lack of sleep. He'd spent the night worrying about his friend and whether they'd find him alive or not. He spotted Wilson standing next to the corral and his eyes fell on the familiar black horse he was rubbing down.

Wilson looked up as he heard the horses coming his way. He wasn't surprised to see Chris Larabee's group coming towards him. He dropped the brush and stepped out of the corral. "Evenin' Fellas."

"Evenin', Tom," Sanchez said.

"You plannin' on catchin' up to Chris and them fellas he was with?"

"We're trying, Tom. Did you see Chris?" Wilmington asked.

"Course I did. He came in with some other men bout suppertime last night. Said he needed fresh horses cause they were chasin' a bunch of outlaws."

"How'd he look, Tom?" Jackson asked.

"Well now that's somethin' that's been worryin' me. Seems he looked kinda pale as if a good strong wind would knock him down. Asked him to stay but he said they were in a hurry."

"Damn. Vin, we'd better get after em," Jackson said worriedly.

"Did you see which direction they took, Tom?" Sanchez asked.

"Sure did, Josiah, they headed south towards the river. These fellas with Chris, I take it they weren't part of a posse?"

"No, Tom, they weren't. We'll explain it to you the next time you come to Four Corners," Wilmington promised as the four men turned away from the farm and headed in the direction Wilson had pointed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wake up, Chris."

The gunslinger heard the soft voice but didn't want to leave the warm dream he was having. His arms slid around his wife's slim waist and he lifted her, gently caressing her back. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he placed a kiss on her supple lips.

"Come on, Chris, you need this to keep up your strength."

"Leave me," he snarled as a voice started pulling him from his dreams.

"I can't. Come on, Chris, you have to eat," Lydia ordered.

Larabee felt himself being torn from his wife's loving arms and slammed back into a world of hurt and pain. He groaned and tried to clasp his arms around his chest but was prevented from doing so by the ropes binding them behind his back. He felt himself pulled to a sitting position and a cup placed at his mouth. He drank greedily at first, stopping when his nauseated stomach protested the liquid. He opened his eyes and looked around, unable to remember where he was. "Lydia?" he asked, his confusion mounting as he saw the beautiful woman before him.

"Yeah, Chris, it's me. I got something here for you to eat. Think you can manage a little of it?" she asked, holding a plate of beans in front of her.

The smell hit him and he groaned as once more his stomach churned. "N...not right now," he gasped.

"You've got to eat something," she told him. "Come on, please, just a little," she pleaded.

Larabee shook his head and leaned back against the rough boulder behind his head, "Tired," he said as he closed his eyes. He felt the woman leave him and began working on the ropes around his wrists. His numb fingers were all but useless but he knew he had to find a way out of this. Donaldson was a man who didn't believe in subtlety and the gunslinger knew he wasn't going to like the other man's methods of persuasion.

He closed his eyes against the building nausea in his stomach and struggled to stay conscious as he felt the ropes on his wrist give a little. Sparks of dazzling lights flashed before his eyes as his movements pulled on the wound in his chest.

"That's not gonna work, Captain."

Chris felt a sharp pain as Donaldson kicked out at him. He doubled over as he felt the bone jarring impact just below his right knee.

"Guess I'd better see what you've been doing with those ropes, Captain," Donaldson said, shoving the blond forward to inspect the binds. He laughed as the gunslinger cried out with the force of the shove. "Bet that hurts, don't it? Got your wrists to bleeding now too. Hmm, better just make these a little tighter," Donaldson yanked viciously on the ropes tightening the knot. "That should hold ya. Now you'd best get some sleep, Captain, Tomorrow's gonna be a long hard day for ya!" he laughed as he shoved Chris to the ground.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Where do we go from here, Vin?"

"There's no sign of them leaving the river here, Buck. Think maybe we oughta go downstream a ways and look for signs there," Tanner told them

"Why south?" Jackson asked.

"Just a feelin' I got is all," Tanner answered.

"Well, Brother, I'd rather trust your feeling's more than most peoples assurances that they know where they're going," Sanchez's confidence in the tracker eased his mind and they started downriver, two riders on each side.

"Thanks, Josiah," the tracker drawled.

They rode steadily, their eyes never leaving the terrain, their minds wondering if they'd find Chris Larabee alive. Vin's discovery of a blood stained patch of ground just to the north had them all worrying over the fate of their friend and leader. Neither man would give voice to those worries, content to hide their emotions inside until the time came.

"Vin, we're gonna have to call it a night," Wilmington advised the younger man.

"Not yet, Buck," Tanner argued.

"The horses are tired and it's getting too dark to see anything, Vin. We'll get an early start," Sanchez told the younger man.

"Mornin' might be too late, Josiah," Tanner hissed as he pictured the blood on the ground again.

"If we don't let the horses rest they'll be to tired too be of any help, Brother. You know that as well as I do. We need to eat and rest."

"Vin, Chris is gonna need us all but he's gonna need you and Nate even more. Now you may be able to go days on end without sleep but Nathan's gonna have some patching up to do when we find Chris and he's gonna need to be well rested in order to do a proper job," Wilmington explained.

Tanner looked downriver, angry at the darkening sky for making him unable to continue the search for the missing man. "Alright, but we leave at first light," he ordered as he dismounted and led his horse to the water's edge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wake up, Captain Larabee."

"Go away," the gunslinger mumbled.

"On your feet, Captain."

Chris opened his eyes and looked at his enemy standing over him, a malicious grin on Donaldson's face. He struggled to sit up but couldn't find the strength as abused muscles protested loudly.

"You know you're a mess, Captain? A disgrace to the uniform. Now stand up and salute your superior officer," Donaldson ordered and then broke into laughter. "Gotta take those ropes off if I want you to salute, right? Well that's not gonna happen just yet so I guess I'll have to settle for you saying yes, Sir."

"Never," was the blond's heated reply.

"You might wanna change your mind when you see what I have in mind for you," Donaldson suggested as he pulled the injured man to his feet.

Chris cried out as he stood on shaky legs. He could feel the ache in his leg where the other man's boot had connected with it.

"Now, have a look over yonder and see what I've made just for you, Captain," Donaldson ordered.

"What the hell is it?" Larabee gasped as he struggled to focus his eyes on the object across the clearing.

"Why don't I give you a closer look, Captain? I'm sure you've seen them before many times," Donaldson said as he pulled the blond along beside him. "I'm not real sure what they call this but I've seen it used a time or two. Some people refer to it as a rack but I don't think that's what it is. It's just a little something to hold you upright while I convince you to talk," he explained as he wrapped his arm around Larabee's shoulder, causing the man to shrink to his knees.

Chris recognized the platform and what it was used for. He'd seen similar contraptions used during the war, mostly in prison camps where the commanding officer didn't give a damn how information was retrieved from the inmates. The manacles hanging from the overhead pole could be adjusted so his feet would barely touch the ground. The manacles on the lower level of the pole could be adjusted so that his legs were spread wide. Either way the gunslinger knew he was in trouble.

"So, Captain, are you willing to tell me where the gold is hidden?"

"Don't remember," Larabee answered honestly.

"Come on now, Captain, surely you don't think I'd believe you'd forget something like that?"

"Don't matter what you believe. I don't remember where it is."

"You really are trying to keep it all to yourself, aren't you?" Donaldson asked angrily.

"Go to hell," Larabee ground out as he felt Donaldson cut the ropes on his arms. He pulled his hands to the front and began massaging the throbbing wrists.

"Not before you, Captain," Donaldson laughed. "Fred, you and Percy put him up there."

"Don't do this, Roy," Lydia pleaded, tears in her eyes as she watched the two men grab the gunslinger's wrist and pull him towards the rack.

"Lydia, if the Captain would be so kind as to reveal the location of the gold then I wouldn't have to do this. Maybe you could use your wiles to make him talk. What do you say, Captain, a role in the hay with Lydia for the location of the gold. Think she's worth fifty thousand?" Donaldson asked, shoving the woman away. "Make sure those are nice and tight. I seem to remember Captain Larabee having a knack for slipping his hands out of them."

"Sure thing, Roy," Fred answered, an evil leer on his face.

Chris groaned as his hands were pulled over his head and locked in the manacles. His arms were stretched higher as they shortened the link between his hands and the overhead pole.

Fred took pleasure in snapping the manacles a little tighter, making sure there was no way for the prisoner to escape them. They moved to Larabee's legs and attached the chains there as well. They walked away from the barely conscious man as Donaldson stepped forward.

"Last chance, Captain. Where's the gold?"

"I don't remember," Larabee answered truthfully and tried to brace his body as the other man's fist snaked out and connected with his abdomen. His breath was driven from his lungs and he struggled to stay on his feet. He knew he wouldn't last long under this onslaught but there was nothing he could do to convince Donaldson he had no idea where the lost shipment was. Closing his eyes he waited for the next blow. It wasn't long before his head snapped back as Donaldson moved upwards.

"Where is it, Captain?" Donaldson asked again.

"I told you I don't know," Larabee gasped painfully as another blow struck his side. His vision blurred as his head was rocked back and he heard Lydia pleading for the other man to stop. He didn't know if Lydia got through to the man as unconsciousness mercifully took him away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tanner and the others galloped in the direction of the narrow canyon. Wilmington's discovery of overturned rocks just after dawn that morning had shown them the direction the men holding Chris had gone. Each man hoped they'd catch up to the gang before they did too much damage to him.

Jackson's mounting concern at the disappearance of the already injured gunslinger shone in his eyes as he hurried along behind the tracker. The wound in Larabee's chest had only just begun to heal and he knew it would've reopened with all the riding. He also knew whoever had taken Chris didn't give a damn what happened to him.

'Damn, Stud, who the hell are these guys and how is Lydia involved?' Wilmington thought as he paced Sanchez's large horse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

His arms ached and his chest throbbed as he forced his eyes open, sputtering as the water ran from his face.

"Welcome back, Captain."

Larabee glared at the men standing before him, his body quickly telling him that he'd acquired new injuries to go with the wound in his chest. His left eye was swollen nearly shut and he could feel a thin stream of blood running from an open wound down his cheek. His breathing faltered as he moved and he knew Donaldson's iron like fists had broken more than one rib.

"There's only one way to stop this, Captain."

"Go to h...hell," Larabee hissed through clenched teeth.

"That's not the answer I wanted to hear," Donaldson told him.

Larabee felt the man's fist as it was once again driven into his midsection. He gasped as the dulled pain in his ribs became sensitized with agony once more. Another fist lashed out, connecting solidly with his chin, splitting the already bruised flesh.

"Well, Captain?"

"G...got n...nothing t..." before Chris could finish Donaldson's fist once more impacted with his body, this time just under the partially healed chest wound.

Larabee cried out as he tried to ride out the pain but nothing seemed to ease the deeply ingrained agony. His head slumped forward on his chest as he let the darkness fall once more

"Godammit, Larabee, you keep passing out and we ain't gonna get nowhere! Percy, wake him up!" Donaldson ordered.

Percy threw the water in Larabee's face, watching as the man sputtered once again but remained unconscious. He stepped closer to the injured man and began slapping his face in an effort to wake him up.

"Why don't you leave him alone, Roy?"

"Lydia, stay out of my business."

"He ain't waking up, Roy," Watkins said as he turned away from Larabee's bloodied form.

Donaldson stepped up on the platform and grabbed hold of the blond hair. He pulled the head up off the man's chest and snarled in his face. "Open those damned eyes, Captain!" he ordered. Angry when there was still no response he turned to Watkins once more "Give me your canteen," he ordered. Watkins quickly did as he was told and Donaldson placed the canteen to Larabee's mouth, tilting his head back and forcing the liquid past his bruised lips.

Chris gasped and choked on the warm water as it flowed to the back of his throat. Groaning, he opened his eyes and looked into the face of misery. His misery, for that's what this man was about to cost him. His body, already weakened from the chest wound and the beatings sagged against the manacles holding him aloft. He tried to pull his mouth away from the canteen but the firm hands buried in his wet hair wouldn't let go. As more water was forced into his mouth his stomach churned and the contents were brought up again.

Donaldson released his hold and let the prisoner's head fall forward, "Glad to see you're back with us, Captain," he laughed at the glazed look in the man's swollen eyes.

Larabee's only reply came as a muffled curse, lacking its usually force as he struggled to get his feet underneath him.

"That's it, Captain, stand up and face me like a man."

"Get away from him, Roy!"

Larabee's eyes shot open at the angry female voice. Lydia stood directly in front of Donaldson a gun pointed at the man's chest. The blond would have smiled if his face didn't hurt so much.

"Lydia, darling, remember Shane?" Donaldson said and Larabee saw her falter.

"I'll find Shane," she said as she fired a shot at the ground next to Donaldson's feet.

"You know I'm gonna kill you for that, Bitch!"

"I said get away from him," she screamed. "All of you get away from him!"

"Lydia, be reasonable," Donaldson said, changing tactics again. "Think of your son. Think of what I can do to him."

"Roy," she sobbed, the gun shaking in her hands. "He's your son too."

"He's nothing to me, Lydia, a mistake I made with you but he does have his uses. Now put the gun down!"

"No!" she said.

"Lydia, the way I see it you have two choices. The Captain lives or your son lives. Don't make the mistake of thinking I won't kill Shane just because I'm his father."

"No!" she repeated the gun never wavering, her eyes on the two men directly in front of her. She screamed as a hand snaked out from her right, snapping down on the hand holding the gun.

Donaldson stepped over to her and struck her openhandedly across the face. "Don't you ever pull a gun on me again!" he snapped as he struck her again, sending her to the ground, blood running from her split lip.

"You son of a bitch," Larabee grated out as he watched the crying woman on the ground.

"Look, Captain, I'm sick and tired of this," Donaldson said as he picked up the gun Lydia dropped. "Now where did you hide the damned gold?"

Larabee's swollen eyes did little to hide the glare he directed at his enemy. "Go to hell!"

"Not the right answer," Donaldson said, sending a bullet into Larabee's right thigh.

Chris's body went slack in the cuffs as his legs refused to hold him any longer. The pain almost too much as he struggled to get his feet back under him.

"The gold," Donaldson repeated as he pointed the gun at the left leg.

~~~~~~~~~

The sound reverberated around them as the four men raced in the direction the gunshot emanated from. Tanner drew them up before they got too close. He knew they were dealing with at least four men. Not knowing what kind of shape they'd find the missing lawman in, he wanted to scout the area and get into the best position to help their friend.

The others nodded their agreement as Tanner pointed out the areas he wanted covered as a second gunshot sounded. Four men moved as one, silent but deadly in their intent to rescue Chris Larabee.

~~~~~~~~~~

"I d...don't know," Larabee answered truthfully, knowing it wouldn't matter, the man before him was going to kill him sooner or later. Larabee's body jerked as a second bullet ripped into his left thigh.

"Roy, someone's out there," Watkins said.

Donaldson listened for a moment before turning back to his victim. "Percy, it's just your imagination. Now, Captain, tell me or I start working on Lydia," he laughed as he pulled the woman from the ground.

Larabee hung limp in the manacles, unable to get his feet under him. His eyes and jaw clenched tightly as he tried to ignore what his body was telling him. He knew he was losing blood at an alarming rate but there was nothing he could do about that right now. He forced his eyes open and looked at Donaldson. "Let her go and I'll tell you," he lied.

"You'll tell me now or I'll start carving her pretty face," Donaldson grinned as he dropped the gun and pulled a thin blade from his belt. He placed it to the woman's cheek, applying just enough pressure so a tiny drop of blood welled to the surface.

"It a...about ten m...miles from here," Larabee ground out.

"Ten miles? Which direction?"

"West, towards the arroyo."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't," Larabee told him.

"Guess we'll just have to check it out," Donaldson laughed as he dropped the woman back to the ground. "You best get some rest, Captain, we'll be heading out first thing in the morning. Lydia, get cooking girl. Questioning a man can make a man downright hungry."

Larabee watched the man walk away. His eyes searched the surrounding hillsides, coming to rest on a group of large boulders. He'd seen the dwindling sun glint off something shiny and hoped Tanner had tracked him there. Another movement, higher and to the left made him smile. He closed his eyes and waited, content in the knowledge that rescue was at hand.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jackson's concerned gaze raked over the group's leader. Aside from the obvious wounds he wondered what other injuries the man might have. The distance was too great for him to make out everything but he could see the bruised and battered face. At a signal from the tracker the four lawmen moved quietly towards the camp. Jackson's job was to move in and try to get to Larabee and protect him., while the others took care of the outlaws.

Wilmington swore as he recognized Wicks' partner, the man who'd let them escape from Wickstown. The man wanted Larabee to live and Buck was going to find out why.

Sanchez said a silent prayer as he watched the men in the camp below. Three of them appeared to be drinking heavily and he hoped it dulled their senses. The fourth man sat off on his own, staring at the man hanging suspended between two poles. A man the ex-preacher called friend. A man whose body screamed out in pain while his mouth remained silent. A constant reminder of just how strong and determined Chris Larabee was.

Tanner's eyes were fixed on his friend. From the way Larabee hung in the manacles he was hurt and hurt badly.

The tracker signalled the others and they silently made their way towards the camp, each man concentrating on the job at hand.

~~~~~~~~~~

Larabee kept his eyes on the men in the camp. His worst fear happened as Donaldson's head snapped up, his glance going to the hills around him. "D...Donaldson," he called, his voice barely above a whisper. "Donaldson," this time more forcefully and he hid the smile as the other man's attention returned to him.

"What do you want, Captain?" Donaldson asked as he stepped up to the platform again.

"Water," Larabee answered.

"Care to beg for it?" Donaldson asked, forgetting the sound he'd heard in his glee at the thought of seeing Chris Larabee beg.

Chris saw movement in front and to the right of him. He had to keep this man distracted. "P...please," he said, the word harsh from his dry throat.

"I'm sure you can do better than that," Donaldson said as he lifted the canteen he'd dropped earlier.

Larabee's anger came shining through as he watched the man open the canteen and begin pouring the liquid on the ground. He unconsciously licked his bruised lips with his dry tongue as the sound of the liquid hitting the ground reminded him he was in danger of dehydration.

"Well?"

Larabee let his head sag against his chest, his body trembling against the manacles.

"I'm waiting."

"Y...you'll be waiting a l...long time," Larabee's weak voice told him.

"As you wish, captain. I'll be enjoying Lydia's cooking if you change your mind," Donaldson laughed as he walked back to the campfire.

"Chris?"

The blond head lifted slightly at the soft sound of his name being called. He gave no outward sign that he heard, but his heart leapt at the healer's voice.

"I'm right behind you. Vin, Buck, and Josiah are about to attack the camp."

"K," was the barley audible reply.

~~~~~~~~

Tanner had his mare's leg ready as he slipped behind a fair sized rock. He knew the others were in position and regarded Larabee's body one last time. 'Stay with us, Cowboy,' he thought as he turned back to the camp. "Drop the guns!" he ordered causing the camp to erupt in instant chaos. Guns were only partially drawn as the lawmen's bullets cut the owners down.

Lydia dropped to the ground as soon as the words left Vin Tanner's mouth, covering her head with her hands as bullets flew over her. She heard sharp cries as Donaldson's men fell around her.

Wilmington saw Wicks' partner as he hurried in Larabee's direction, his gun pointing at the helpless man. "No!" he shouted as he watched the scene unfold.

Donaldson advanced on Larabee, thinking he would kill the man if it was the last thing he ever did. His hatred for the Captain who'd denied him the gold so many years ago written in the lines of his face.

Jackson heard Wilmington's shout and pointed his own gun at the advancing man. His bullet tore into Donaldson's chest before he had a chance to dislodge a bullet from his own gun. Donaldson stumbled the last few feet, his gun dropping to the ground as his hands reached out and grabbed at the gunslinger.

Larabee cried out as Donaldson's weight caused him to sag against the manacles.

"Should've killed you long ago, Captain," Donaldson said as the life left his eyes. He dropped heavily to the ground at Larabee's feet.

"Chris?"

"N...Nathan."

"Yeah, Chris, you just hold on till we find the keys," Jackson said as Wilmington began going through Donaldson's pockets.

Tanner and Sanchez finished checking the bodies, secure in the knowledge the healer and the ladies man were looking after their injured friend. Tanner helped Lydia to her feet, unsure what part she played in Larabee's kidnapping. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she sobbed as she looked at the dead man at Larabee's feet. "Please, I have to help Chris."

Tanner and Sanchez flanked her as she hurried towards the injured man. "I'm sorry, Chris," she cried as she stepped closer.

"Not now, Lydia," Wilmington said sharply. "Found it," he said as he lifted the heavy key from the dead man's pocket.

"Josiah, Buck, you two hold him while I take those off," Jackson ordered as he reached above Larabee and used the key to open the manacles.

"Easy, Stud," Wilmington said as Larabee groaned and sagged against him as his arms were freed.

"Almost there, Brother," Sanchez said as Jackson began undoing the manacles on his ankles.

Tanner stood next to the two men as Chris was released. Green eyes met blue and a silent thank you passed between them.

"Vin, you and Lydia open up the bedrolls. Josiah, Buck, you two carry him over to the fire. Be careful now. I don't know what kinda injuries he's got," Jackson ordered as the two men lifted the semi conscious man between them.

Tanner and Lydia spread a couple of the outlaws' bedrolls on the ground and moved out of the way as Wilmington and Sanchez carried Larabee towards them.

"Is he alright, Nate?" Tanner asked worriedly.

"I don't know, Vin, got a lot of work to do. Gonna be touch and go for a while. Gotta get the bleeding stopped. You guys help me get him undressed," Jackson rambled on, his mind concentrating on the heavy burden of keeping his friend alive. "Buck, get my bag. Vin, get his boots off and check his legs. Looks like there's bullets in both of them. Josiah help me lift him, careful now, he may have some broken ribs. Lydia, bring me a couple of canteens."

"Yes, Nathan," Lydia answered, keeping her fears at bay. "I had some water boiling."

"Good, I'll need it. Josiah, hold him steady," Jackson ordered as he pulled the shirt from the injured man. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the blood soaked bandage surrounded by a multitude of darkening bruises. "Damn, Chris, why didn't you just stay in town?"

"T...thought Lydia w...was in d...danger," Larabee groaned as Sanchez laid him back on the ground.

"Better get something to put under his head," Jackson told Sanchez as he listened to the troubled breathing.

"Nathan, there's no exit wounds," Tanner's voice was filled with fear and worry.

"I know, Vin, Just try to stop the bleeding while I take care of the chest wound."

"Here, Nathan," Wilmington said as he dropped down beside the others. "How're you doin', Stud," he asked as he saw the half opened eyes staring at him.

"B...better now t...that you guys are h...here," Larabee said, forcing a smile to his face, groaning as he felt pressure on his right leg.

"Buck, give Vin a hand," Jackson ordered as he opened his kit and took out a supply of bandages, passing a couple to Tanner and Wilmington. "Lydia, can you put some of these in a cup and steep it for me?" Jackson asked as he passed the woman a small package.

"Sure, Nathan," she said, crying softly at the damage done to Larabee's body.

"Chris, you still with us?" Jackson asked as he noticed the green eyes were closed.

"Y...yeah," Larabee ground out through clenched teeth.

"I gotta put the stitches back in," Jackson told him as he felt the gunslinger's ribs. The sharp intake of breath told him what he needed to know. "Then I'm gonna have to bandage your ribs. Feels like at least three busted on the right and two on the left."

"I t...think you're w...wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Y...yeah feels like they're all b...busted," Larabee answered breathlessly.

"I know it does, Chris, you just gotta lie there and let us look after you. Lydia's fixin' ya up one of my teas and I need ya to take this," Jackson said as he placed a spoon filled with Laudanum to the gunslinger's mouth, worried when the blond took it without much protest.

"R...rather have..."

"I know you'd rather have the whiskey but you're not gettin' any right now," Jackson said as he signalled for Sanchez to hold Larabee down.

The gunslinger knew what was to come and set his teeth against the pain of the sharp needle biting into his tender flesh.

"Hold on, Brother, it's gotta be done," Sanchez's strong hand slipped into Larabee's and he felt the hand close in a grip of steel. "That's it, Chris, just hold on till Nathan's done."

"Just a couple of more, Chris," Jackson assured him.

"Nathan, the tea is ready," Lydia said as she showed him the tin cup.

"Thanks, Lydia," Jackson said as he finished cleaning the blood from the wound in the chest. Some of the angry redness had faded but the healer was worried about infection and the already building fever.. "Lift his head, Josiah," he ordered. "Chris, you need to drink some of this."

Larabee grimaced but drank the tea gratefully. Normally the gunslinger would have balked at the idea of drinking one of Nathan's brews. This time he just swallowed it, without protest, relishing the fact that it would soon help him past the worst of the pain.

"That's good, Chris." Jackson told him as he placed the empty cup on the ground. "Hold him up, Josiah."

Chris gritted his teeth once more as he was lifted forward and the healer wrapped bandages around his ribs. He kept his eyes and fists clenched tightly as he felt Sanchez place him back against the blankets.

"Josiah, keep him as still as possible. I've gotta get those bullets out next."

"Sure, Brother," Sanchez said as he lifted a cloth from the water Lydia supplied. He gently washed the blood and dirt from Larabee's bruised face, talking calmly to him as Jackson examined each bullet wound.

"Alright, Vin, hold the leg straight," Jackson said as he began probing for the bullet in the right thigh. He steeled his emotions against the cries of pain coming from the weak man. Fighting his healer's heart to keep the tears at bay. 'I'm supposed to be a healer, God. I'm not supposed to cause such pain,' he thought as he pulled the first bullet free. "Only one more to go, Chris, then I promise I'll let you rest."

"He's unconscious, Brother," Sanchez told him.

"Thank god," Wilmington said, his own heart hammering in his chest.

"Nathan, is he gonna be alright?" Tanner asked the question on all their minds.

"I don't know, Vin, there's just so much damage. We gotta keep his fever down, keep his wounds clean, and make sure we get liquids into him. It's gonna be a long hard road but if he keeps fighting he'll pull through," Jackson said as he probed for the second bullet.

'You're gonna have to fight, Cowboy, cause we got a trip to make to Tascosa,' the tracker thought, as he gazed at the barely breathing gunslinger.

"Got it," Jackson gasped as he pulled the second bullet from Larabee's leg. He quickly cleaned and stitched the wound then bandaged it tightly. "I know you all want to know if he's going to be alright and I wish I could tell you he was. I just don't know. He was already weak before any of this happened. His body was just startin' to heal from the shock and blood loss of the chest wound. Now he's got two more bullet wounds, broken ribs and all those bruises."

"What are you sayin', Nathan?" Wilmington demanded.

"I'm sayin' I've done all I can. Now it's up to Chris and God. He's gotta fight hard to beat this one and I just don't know if he's got the strength to do that. With the fever he's got we're gonna need to get him outta this hot sun. He can't ride a horse so we're gonna need some other way to carry him. There's no way he'll make it back to Four Corners as weak as he is."

"What if we built a travois?" Sanchez asked.

"That'll do to carry him on," Jackson said.

"Nathan, do you think he could handle the ride to Tom Wilson's farm? I'm sure he'll let us stay there till Chris is healed enough to make the rest of the trip," Tanner asked.

"Tom's farm is little more than half a day's ride from here, Nate," Wilmington said.

Jackson looked at each man and then back at the injured gunslinger before speaking. "Alright, you guys get the travois built and we'll head out first thing in the morning," he said as he turned his healing hands to cleaning and bandaging the wounds on Larabee's wrists and ankles. He swore at the damage Donaldson had inflicted on the blond.

Chris remained unconscious during the night, an occasional moan the only sound to escape his cracked his lips. The four men surrounded him, wiping him down with cool water in an effort to fight off the fever ravaging through his body.

Lydia kept her distance, not wanting to intrude.

Wilmington looked at the pretty woman and finally walked towards her. "What did you have to do with all this, Lydia?" he asked angrily.

"I...Buck...I," she stammered.

"You what?"

"Donaldson and I were married," she blurted out.

Wilmington's surprise registered on his face as he looked towards the dead men. "Did you help him get to Chris?"

"I had no choice," she answered as tears filled her eyes.

"We all have choices, Lydia."

"He threatened our son," she cried as the tears fell from her eyes. "Don't you understand, Buck? He threatened to kill my son if I didn't bring Chris to him," she gasped, turning away.

Wilmington grasped her arm and pulled her back. "You could've come to us. We would've helped you."

"No you couldn't! Don't you understand? He would've killed my son! I didn't have a choice."

"B...Buck, leave her."

Five sets of eyes looked to the injured man lying pale on the ground.

"Chris, How're you feeling?" Jackson asked as he knelt beside the gunslinger.

"L...lousy, Nate."

"Well that's understandable. You've been through a lot. Think you can drink a little water for me?"

"Think so...kinda t...thirsty," Larabee smiled weakly. His eyes turned to the woman standing with Wilmington. "Buck, she didn't h...have a choice. I'd've d...done the s...same thing f...for A...Adam," he gasped.

"Here, Chris," Jackson said as held a cup to Larabee's lips.

The gunslinger managed to drink half the cup before Nathan pulled it away. "M...more."

"In a minute. Just let that settle for a minute. How's the pain?"

"Not bad yet," Larabee's eyes belied his words.

"Why don't I believe you, Cowboy?" Tanner asked.

Larabee met the younger man's eyes, knowing this was the one man he couldn't fool. "Donaldson?"

"He's dead."

"G...good," Larabee gasped and started to cough, holding his ribs against the pain.

"That's enough talking for now, Chris. I got two more things for you to drink and then we're gonna get you on a travois and head for the Wilson farm."

"I can r..."

"Don't even think about saying that, Brother," Sanchez ordered. "I'd say you'll be lucky if Brother Nathan lets you ride in a month."

Larabee knew the ex-preacher was right but he still wanted to argue. His stubborn pride made it impossible for him to give in gracefully. "N...no t...travois."

"Chris, you're in no position to fight us. Now just be quiet and rest while we get everything ready," Sanchez told him.

"Here, Chris," Jackson said, feeding Chris a spoonful of Laudanum.

Larabee swallowed gratefully as the agony of his injuries began to take a toll on him. "Thanks," he said.

"One more thing," Jackson helped him drink the willow bark tea, hoping it would help bring down the fever.

"Hate that s...stuff," the gunslinger whispered as his eyes drooped shut.

"We all do," Tanner laughed as he watched the medicines lull his friend to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Larabee slept through the trip to the Wilson farm. Pain, fever, and Nathan's medicines kept him under for most of the trek. He opened his eyes just as they pulled into the Wilson farm. He heard the excited voice of Timmy Wilson and a smile touched his dry lips.

"Pa!" Timmy called as he saw the men coming towards the farm. "Mr. Larabee's men are coming back."

Tom Wilson hurried out of the house. He watched as the entourage came towards the house, "Martha, looks like we got company."

Martha Wilson was a robust woman with brown hair and brown eyes. She hurried through the door just as Wilmington pulled to a stop. "Tom, Martha, Chris has been hurt. Can we..."

"Bring him right in, Buck," Martha interrupted. "Timmy, help me fix up Joey's room. He can move in with you for now," she ordered as she watched Jackson and the others pull up to the house.

"Yes, Ma," Timmy ran into the house to help his mother.

"Chris?"

Larabee looked up at the healer, pain evident on his face. "W...Wilson's?"

"Yeah, we're gonna stay here until you're strong enough to make the trip home," Jackson told him.

"Martha's fixing a bed for him," Wilson explained.

"T...thanks, Tom," Jackson stammered. "Buck, Josiah, let's get this unhooked and get him inside."

Wilmington and Sanchez lifted the travois and carried it into the house.

"Bring him in here," Martha Wilson called from a room on the right. They entered the room to find the woman just pulling back the fresh linen. "Put him on the bed," she ordered.

Wilmington and Sanchez reached down to lift the injured man.

Larabee's eyes shot open and he shook his head vigorously. "N...no!"

"What do you mean, no?" Wilmington asked.

"G...got n...nothin' on," Larabee gasped.

Martha Wilson chuckled as she overheard the remark from the blond. "Tell you what, Chris, I'll just step outside the door until they get you tucked in, alright?"

The gunslinger's eyes told her how much her words meant. "T...thanks."

"I'll put the kettle on and make you fellas something to eat, Nathan."

"Thanks," Jackson said as Vin followed him into the room. "Let's do this together," he ordered. Between the four men they lifted the injured blond and placed him carefully on the bed, covering him with a thin blanket.

The gunslinger bit his lip to keep from crying out as his friends lifted him from the makeshift conveyance and placed him on the bed. He clenched his fists in the blanket as he tried to ride out the pain that was now the centre of his world.

Jackson knew his patient needed help and quickly fed him a dose of laudanum. He set about checking the bandages covering the blond's chest and thighs. Fresh blood seeped from all three wounds and he removed the soiled bandages, smiling gratefully as Martha came into the room carrying warm water and clean cloths.

"Thank you," the healer said as she placed them on the table beside the bed.

"You're welcome, Nathan, we owe all of you a debt of gratitude. You boys saved Tom from those bushwhackers and we'll always be grateful," she said as she looked at the blond. "How are you feeling, Chris?"

"I...I'm o..."

"Don't tell me your ok, young man. I can see just by lookin' at you that you're far from ok," she scolded as she helped Nathan clean the wounds. By the time they were finished Larabee had once again lost consciousness.

"Nathan, I'm gonna get to work makin' some broth. You boys are gonna need to eat and rest as well. I've set Lydia to work makin' a stew and the boys are fixin' up some cots in the barn."

"That'll be fine, Martha," Jackson said. "Thanks so much for doing this."

"As I said before no thanks are necessary, Nathan. Now you just holler if you need anything."

"I will," he told her, noticing Wilmington and Tanner were still standing by the bed. "Why don't you two get some rest. Gonna need ya both to take a turn at sittin' with Chris."

The tracker knelt beside the bed and took the cloth from Jackson's hands, gently bathing the fevered brow. "I ain't leavin' Nate."

Wilmington knelt opposite Tanner, his face grim as he spoke. "Me either."

"Alright. You two can sit with him for a while. I'm gonna talk to Josiah about goin' to town and gettin' my supplies. Ain't got enough stuff here for what he needs," Jackson told them.

"Ok, Nate," Tanner's voice was barely audible as he continued to do his best to relieve the gunslingers fever.

Jackson shook his head at the two rough, hardheaded men as they gently cared for their injured leader. It seemed natural that these three men would be together. The friendship amongst the seven lawmen continued to grow as each day brought new and deadlier outlaws. It was a friendship built on trust and need. But the relationship between Larabee, Wilmington, and Tanner seemed natural and strong enough to transcend anything thrown at them. These three were strong and if anyone could pull Chris through the next week or so it would be the two men caring for him now. He smiled as he turned away, knowing he'd left his patient in the best possible hands.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chris reached out and grabbed for the hand on his forehead, gasping as pain flooded his body. The dryness in his throat making him cough as he struggled to sit up in the bed.

"Take it easy, Cowboy," Tanner said, carefully gripping the arms just above the bandaged wrists. Larabee continued to struggle as he fought to awaken from the vivid and painful nightmares.

"Come on, Stud, stop that before you break open all Nathan's fancy needlework. He ain't gonna be happy if he has to put all them stitches back in," Wilmington tried to sooth the other man, keeping his voice calm as he watched the blond fighting the younger man. He was grateful when he heard Nathan's voice from behind him.

"Chris, ya gotta lay still and be calm now. Lost too much blood already without you thrashing around like that and openin' up those wounds again."

"That's it, Cowboy, jest lay still and we'll take care of ya," Tanner said as he once more wet the cloth and placed it on his friend's forehead.

Larabee opened his eyes slowly, trying to focus on the men around the bed he was in. He tried to speak but the only sound to escape his throat was a dry rasping cough.

"Here, Chris, drink this," Jackson ordered as he lifted the man's head slightly.

Larabee felt the coolness of the water and sighed as he drank a few sips, "T...Thanks, Nathan," he said, amazed at how much energy it took to speak.

"You're welcome, Chris," Jackson said as he examined the injured man once more. "Looks like you didn't open any of the stitches."

"G...good t...thing. W...wouldn't want to go t...through that again," the blond grinned weakly at his three friends.

"Sounds like someone's awake in here."

Four sets of eyes turned to the woman carrying a tray into the room. "Let me get that fer ya, Ma'am," Tanner offered.

"Now I ain't no weakling, Vin. You three get to the kitchen and get yourselves something to eat. I'll take care of Chris," Martha ordered.

"Thank you, Martha," Jackson said. "Buck, Vin, lift him forward and I'll put some pillows behind him."

Chris clenched his teeth and fists tightly as he was moved upward on the bed. He heard the others speaking to him but was unable to answer as he waited for the room to right itself. His body trembled as feeling returned to the injured limbs and a soft moan escaped his cracked lips. He felt a familiar hand on his shoulder and looked up into the worried blue eyes of the tracker.

"Chris?"

"I...I j...just need a m...minute, Vin," Larabee groaned as he forced the words from his throat.

"Take all the time you need, Chris," Martha said as she forced the three healthy men away from the bed. "You three go eat. I can handle it from here.

"I'll stay..."

"G...go, V...Vin, B...Buck...be here w...when you g...get b...back. I'm fine."

"Alright, you fellas heard him, Now get outta here so's I can look after him," Martha closed the door behind the three men and turned back to the bed. "Now as for you drop the act. I done seen the pain on your face when they brought you in here so there's no need of hidin' it from me."

Larabee smiled weakly as the older woman sat in the chair by his bed. "T...hanks for s...sending them out. N...need a b...break s...sometime."

Martha smiled at the pale blond. "Yeah they do and so do you. I bet you're glad when you get a minute or two on your own. Oh, I don't mean yer not grateful to yer friends for what they're doin' but sometimes it makes ya feel like yer bein' smothered with to much attention. Least that's what my Tom says."

"Y...you're a smart lady, M...Martha," the blond grinned as his eyes began to droop.

"No sleep for you yet, Chris. I brought you some broth and I want you to drink it all," she warned sternly.

"D...don't..."

"Don't you tell me you don't want none. I spent all that time in the kitchen makin' this especially for you. Now open up and we'll be finished before you know it and you can go to sleep." She placed the spoon in front of his mouth waiting for his lips to part. "I can sit here for as long as it takes, Chris," she warned, smiling as he opened his mouth and took the offering. "Now see that wasn't so bad was it?"

"N...no," he answered.

"More?"

He opened his mouth, swallowing the broth gratefully.

Martha continued to feed the injured man, amazed at how much he actually took in before his eyes closed in exhaustion. She placed the bowl back on the tray and lifted the covers up over the battered body. Shaking her head she touched the damp blond hair, brushing it away from his eyes. "You'll be fine, Chris, you've got to much good to do fore God takes ya home. Now you just get the sleep you need," she said as she bathed his forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Josiah Sanchez stepped into the room early the next morning, as the first streaks of dawn took over the darkened skies. "How's he doin', Vin?"

"Been sleepin' most of the night. Still got the damn fever but Nathan says it hasn't gotten any higher."

"I'll be leaving for Four Corners in about an hour but I wanted to check on our friend. Why don't you grab a coffee, Martha's been up and made a fresh pot."

Recognizing Sanchez's need to spend some time with the injured man Tanner stood up and left the room.

"Well, Chris, you and I may not always see eye to eye but I value your friendship and your convictions," the ex-preacher said as he touched the younger man's forehead. He felt the heat of the fever radiating from the blond and his eyes closed in silent prayer. 'Lord, please don't take him from us. Chris Larabee is a good man and good men are hard to find. Take care of him for us and let him continue your work on earth.'

"J...Josiah?"

Sanchez opened his eyes and smiled at the pale figure on the bed. "Good morning, Brother. How are you feeling?"

"F...fine."

Sanchez laughed as he sat in the chair next to the bed. "Now I don't believe that for a minute. Want some water?"

"Please," Larabee answered and drank gratefully from the glass. "Thanks."

"Anytime, Brother," Sanchez promised. "You listen to what Brother Nate says while I'm gone."

"You goin' s...somewhere?"

"That I am. Heading back to Four Corners to get Nathan some supplies. Seems he's almost used up what he brought with him. Something about stubborn gunslingers that don't know when to stay in town like they're supposed to."

"Josiah, do something for me?"

"Anything, Brother."

"When you get back to Four Corners send a wire to the judge. Ask him to make some inquires about Donaldson's family. I know they're somewhere back east."

"Why?"

"He left Lydia's son with one of his family members and I'd like to find him for her."

"You still want to help her after everything she's done to you?"

"It's not her fault, Josiah. Not all of it anyway. I'd've done the same thing if someone threatened Adam. Please, I just want to help a mother find her son."

"You're a good man, Chris Larabee, and I'll do as you've asked. Now, you need to get some rest and I'd best be going. I have a long ride ahead of me. I'll send Vin or one of the others right in," he said as he left the room.

Larabee lay against the pillows, letting the full force of the pain he was in show on his handsome face. He couldn't remember how long it'd been since he was alone and he took advantage of it to let down his guard for a few minutes. His body hurt from his ankles to his head as he tried to move, an angry moan passing his lips as he was prevented from doing so by his injuries.

"Chris?"

He looked up as the woman stepped into the room. "Lydia," he gasped as he struggled to sit up.

"Just lie still, Chris, you won't be going anywhere for a while," she ordered as she sat next to the bed.

Larabee nodded in frustration, knowing she was right. "How are you doing, Lydia?"

Lydia wiped the tears from her eyes as she looked into the pale face of the injured man. "I should be the one asking you that."

"I'll be fine, Lydia," the blond answered.

"Yes, you will be if you do as you're told."

"Morning, Nathan," Larabee said as the healer stepped up to the bed.

"How are you feeling, Chris and I don't want to hear 'I'm fine'," Jackson told him.

"Tired," the gunslinger answered sheepishly.

"Chris!"

"Alright, Nathan, my whole damn body hurts," he answered honestly.

"Well, Martha's fixing up some Willow bark tea. That should help with both the pain and the fever. I've got a little Laudanum left but I'd rather keep that till you really need it. It'll take Josiah the better part of two days to get back here."

"Think I'd rather put up with the pain than drink anymore of that skunk juice of yours," Larabee said as Lydia moved out of the healer's way. He could tell she was still in pain and hoped the judge would be able to find out where her son was.

"I don't believe that for a minute, Chris. Now just lie still while I check your bandages," Jackson ordered as he examined the bandages on Larabee's chest, carefully avoiding the broken ribs. He quickly cleaned the wound and placed a fresh bandage over the top. He moved to the twin bullet wounds in his patient's legs. The right one was healing nicely but the left showed signs of infection. "Chris?"

"Hmm."

"I'm gonna need to drain this one," he said as he touched the edge of the hot flesh surrounding the bullet hole.

"Damn," Larabee's eyes shot open and he looked into the healer's eyes.

"Here, Chris, drink this," Jackson ordered as he placed a spoon filled with Laudanum in front of the injured man's mouth. "Lydia, go tell Vin and Buck I need their help."

"Yes, Nathan," Lydia said as she headed for the door.

"Tell them to bring me some clean water too," Jackson called after her.

"You sure you gotta do this, Nate?" Larabee asked hopefully.

"If you want to keep your leg I do," both men looked to the door as hurried footsteps sounded in the hall.

"What's wrong, Nathan?" Wilmington asked.

"I need you two to help me out."

"What do you want us to do?" Tanner inquired anxiously.

"I'm gonna need you to hold him down."

"Hold him down?" Tanner asked as he looked at the battered gunslinger. "Why?"

"I need to drain the infection from his leg," Jackson told them as Martha Wilson came into the room carrying a basin of warm water and clean bandages.

"Good morning, Chris," she greeted as she placed the basin on the small table next to the bed.

"Morning, Martha," he returned her greeting, his voice filled with trepidation as Jackson pulled out his probes.

"The tea is almost ready, Nathan," Martha informed the healer as she left the men to their work.

"Are you ready, Chris?"

"Guess so," Larabee's voice sounded less than convincing as Wilmington and Tanner set about holding him down. The laudanum succeeded in dulling the pain but Chris knew that was about to change. He gripped Tanner's hand in an effort to keep from crying out as Jackson methodically opened the wound and drained the oozing poison from within.

"Almost done, Chris," Jackson assured him.

"K," was all the blond could manage as the pain weighed heavily on his mind. He felt himself losing touch with reality as he clenched his eyes tightly.

Tanner and Wilmington felt his body go lax at the same time, the two men gazing fearfully at the healer. "He's just passed out," Jackson told them as he finished with the wound, leaving the stitches out as he placed the bandages over the wound.

"Is he gonna be alright, Nate?" Wilmington voiced the question on his and Tanner's mind.

"I think so. He just needs to rest and let his body heal."

"I'll stay with him," the ladies man told them.

"Alright, Buck. Vin, you need to get some sleep."

"I'm fine, Nathan."

"Vin, don't give me that. You've hardly slept in two days and I can't afford no more sick people. Now go get some rest."

Tanner looked from the healer to the patient. His eyes imploring as he spoke softly. "You'll come get me if anything happens?"

"I will, now go," Jackson ordered.

Tanner nodded as he left the room, his shoulder slack as he left his injured friend.

Wilmington settled into the chair beside the bed, his eyes never leaving his friend's face. "He will be alright won't he, Nathan?"

"Like I said, Buck, as long as he listens and does as he's told he should be fine. I just hope there's no more infection. His body is so weak right now that he can't fight much more. I'll be right outside if he needs anything."

"Alright, Nate," Wilmington said.

~~~~~~~~~~

The gunslinger's fever raged the rest of the day and well into the night. Sometimes he'd fight and thrash around on the bed as he struggled to defeat the demons that haunted his dreams.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled in his fevered state. "Not real. Never was any gold."

Jackson, Wilmington, and Tanner took turns bathing the injured man, talking in soothing tones as their friend battled for his life. They forced water and broth on him whenever he showed any signs of lucidity.

Martha kept them supplied with fresh coffee and made sure they took the time to eat, reminding each of them they didn't need anyone else getting ill.

Tanner was sitting by the bed, bathing the still fevered brow, when Larabee opened his eyes and looked straight at him. The tracker smiled at the gunslinger before asking. "How're ya feelin', Cowboy?"

"P...probably as b...bad as I l...look," the blond gasped, his eyes closing once more.

"Here, Chris, drink this," Tanner ordered.

"What is it?"

The tracker smiled but didn't answer as he lifted his friend's head, placing a cup in front of his cracked lips. He watched as Chris drank some of the liquid before turning away.

"Ah, hell, Tanner, you could've warned me what it was," Larabee groaned.

"Would you have drank it?"

"Not willingly," the blond answered as he tried to get the taste of the herbal tea out of his mouth.

"Here," the tracker said as he lifted the blond head once more. "Go ahead its just water," he laughed at the look on the gunslinger's face.

Larabee drank the water gratefully. "Thanks," he muttered as exhaustion won out and he fell into a deep sleep.

Nathan walked into the room at sunrise to find the tracker still sitting beside the injured man. "Has he woke up at all, Vin?"

"Woke up a couple of hours ago."

"Did you get anything into him?"

"Drank about half a cup of your horse piss and maybe half a glass of water."

"That's good," Jackson grinned as he bent over the gunslinger and began checking his wounds. He spent extra time checking the left leg, eliciting soft moans from his patient. "It's ok, Chris, I'm almost done." True to his word the healer re-bandaged the wound and stretched his back.

"How is it, Nate?"

"Much better, Vin. I think most of the poison has drained out of it. As long as we can keep it infection free the leg should heal up fine. Actually all of the wounds should heal up fine."

"T...then lets go h...home," a soft voice whispered from the bed.

"Chris, how are you feeling?" the healer asked.

"J...just great. Can we go home?"

"Not for a few more days, Chris. You've got to regain some of your strength before we go anywhere and when we do you'll be riding in the back of Tom's wagon."

"Damn, Nathan, c...can't we negotiate?"

Jackson smiled at the impatient blond. "Not about that. Now I'm goin' to see about gettin' you some breakfast. Think you could manage to eat a little?"

"Not hungry," the blond told him.

"Well now, Chris, I've been workin' in that kitchen since dawn and I'm hopin' I can change your mind."

"Mornin', Ma'am," Tanner said as he vacated the chair next to the bed. With Jackson's help they soon had the injured man propped up in the bed, sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Good morning, Vin. Now you and Nathan go on into the kitchen before Buck, Tom, and the boys eat everything," she ordered. "As for you, Chris, I made this specially for ya. Ain't much but I think it'll help ya get your strength back. Now open up."

"I can feed myself," he told her as he reached for the spoon.

She placed the tray in his lap and watched as he took the first taste of the thin mush. His eyes widened in surprise at the taste. "This is really good, Martha."

"Well thank you, Chris, I added a little of my peach preserves to give it some flavor."

"Thanks, Martha," he said gratefully. He ate half the mush and drank the juice she handed him. He handed her back the glass, his eyes once more growing heavy with sleep. He felt her take the tray from his lap and then gently remove the extra pillows. "Thanks,' he muttered.

"You're welcome, Son," she told him as she watched his breathing even out.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The blond heard whispering and tried to grasp what was being said. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep but he felt as if he'd been lying on his back forever. He felt weak and nauseous as he opened his eyes, snapping them shut once more as pain lanced through his skull.

Martha Wilson glanced towards the bed as she heard a tiny sound from the injured man. She watched as he fought to open his eyes, smiling as he finally won the fight and started searching the room. "Hello, Chris," she said as she waited for the glazed eyes to focus on her.

Larabee gasped as he came fully awake, fully conscious of every part of his body. He tried to move in an effort to ease some of the torment but only succeeded in causing more agony to erupt. "Damn!" he swore as he clenched his hands into fists.

"Damn is right, Son, guess I don't have to ask how you're feeling."

"Martha, s...sorry didn't k...know you w...were there," Larabee apologized.

"No need to be apologizin' to me, Chris. I'm sure I've heard worse."

"W...where's everybody?"

"Buck and Vin are sleepin', Nathan's in the kitchen taking a much needed break, Lydia's outside. That woman's in a lot of pain," she told him.

"She's had a hard road."

"Kinda like you."

He looked into her kind eyes, finding he didn't mind the sympathy he found in them. "Least I had some help," he whispered thoughtfully.

"You gonna help her?"

"I'm g...gonna try," he told her.

"Well how about you try a little broth right now?" she laughed at the pained look that crossed his face, knowing it wasn't caused by his injuries so much as the thought of more broth.

"Well, it's about time you woke up," Jackson smiled at the sight of the wide-awake gunslinger. "Let's sit you up and get some food inside ya."

"Broth's not food," Larabee groaned as Jackson helped him forward and Martha placed pillows behind his back.

"Well that's about all you'll be getting for awhile longer. Can't have you throwing up with that chest wound and those broken ribs. You'd be in misery for sure."

"You sayin' I'm not in m...misery right now?" the blond gasped.

"No, I'm not sayin' that. I'm sayin' it'd get a whole lot worse if you were to start throwing up. Now quit your bickerin' and drink every drop."

Larabee picked up the spoon and slowly sipped the broth, his eyelids drooped and he placed the spoon back in the bowl. "Feel as weak as a newborn colt," he rasped.

"That's to be expected, Chris. Your body's got a lot of healin' to do before you're back to yourself."

"Hate f...feeling like t...this, Nate."

"It'll get better, Chris, ya just need to give yourself time to heal," Martha told him as Nathan fed him the willow bark tea. Larabee finished half the cup before his eyes closed once more.

"He's got a long ways to go."

"That he does, Martha. I just wish Josiah would hurry back with the supplies. He needs the Laudanum to ease the pain. The Willow Bark tea is helping control the fever but it's not helping much with the pain."

"He's a strong man, Nathan, and he's got a strong healer behind him. You'll help him through this."

Jackson's eyes spoke volumes as he sent her a grateful look. He was still amazed at how much confidence people had in his abilities. He worried sometimes whether that confidence was unfounded, especially when it came to the six men he'd befriended. In the two years since they first banded as the group now known as the Magnificent Seven his abilities had been tested more than he wanted. Sometimes it felt as if his clinic had a revolving door when it came to the men he called friends. "Thank you, Ma'am," he finally answered.

"I'm going to go start dinner. You just holler if you need anything," she ordered.

He smiled at her, "Yes, ma'am, I'll do that." Jackson heard her leave and placed his hand on Larabee's brow, shaking his head at the ever-present fever. It wasn't as high as it was yesterday when they had to fight to keep the blond from thrashing on the bed in his delirium. The healer picked up the cloth and once more bathed the pale face. 'Ya gotta keep fightin', Chris,' he thought as his mind wondered back to the day two strangers stepped in to save him from the hangman's noose. "I owe ya, Chris, I owe ya my life," he said.

"D...don't owe me n...nothin', Nate, you p...paid me back ten times over."

"Thought you were sleepin'," Jackson remarked.

"C...can't sleep. C...can't get c...comfortable."

"Josiah should be back soon, Chris. He's bringing a fresh supply of Laudanum. Think you can hold on a little longer?"

"T...think so," he gasped, crying out as he moved slightly on the bed.

"Try to rest, Chris," Jackson ordered as he saw the lines of pain on the handsome face.

"K," Larabee whispered, closing his eyes in an effort to conceal just how much pain he was in.

Jackson didn't need to see the eyes to know Larabee was in agony. Between the ribs and bullet wounds any movement he attempted resulted in a gasp of pain. 'Just a little longer, Chris, Josiah should be back by nightfall,' Jackson thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Nathan, Josiah's back," Wilmington called as he hurried into the bedroom. They'd all witnessed the pain Larabee was in. Each man was taking a turn to sit with him.

"Hear that, Chris, Josiah's back. Buck stay with him while I get the Laudanum," Jackson ordered.

Larabee opened his eyes, not sure when he'd last been pain free. So far he'd been able to keep most of it inside but the battle to hide the agony was becoming too much. He'd gladly drink a gallon of Nathan's horse piss if it meant an end to the constant suffering. A soft voice near the bed made him open his eyes. "Mary," he gasped in surprise.

"Chris," she whispered his name as she sat next to the bed. Wilmington watched the two blonds as they locked gazes. 'You two may not realize it yet but there's something growing between you. You just better not mess this up, Stud,' he thought, a smile creasing his handsome face. Mary Travis seemed better for Chris than any of Nathan's medicines. Some of the lines that creased his friend's brow softened as he looked at her.

"T...thanks for coming, Mary," he told her.

"I knew I should've stopped you from leaving," her guilt filled voice cried as she took in the amount of bandages covering his body.

"Not y...your fault, Mary. There was no way you could've s...stopped me."

"I could've asked Yosemite or Tiny to go after you."

"Donaldson w...would've just k...killed them," he told her.

"What did Lydia have to do with all this?"

"She's a victim, M...Mary. D...Donaldson's got her s...son. B...blackmailed her."

"She should've asked for help," Mary said, not wanting to feel sorry for the woman.

"W...what would you have d...done if it w...was Billy?" Larabee asked.

Mary thought about her son and what she'd be willing to give up to ensure his safety. "I'd have probably done the same thing," she answered.

"Me too if it was Adam," he told her.

"Chris."

Larabee looked towards the two men who'd entered the room. "Josiah, did you do what I asked?"

"I did, Brother," Sanchez assured the blond.

"Take this, Chris, then I want everyone out and you sleeping," Jackson ordered.

Larabee accepted the Laudanum, knowing it would soon take the edge off the pain and give him a chance to sleep.

"Can I stay, Nathan," the blond woman asked.

"Alright, Mary, just make sure he don't try to get up," Jackson ordered.

"D...don't think I c...could if I w...wanted too," Larabee grated out as he waited for the drug to take affect. He noticed Tanner step into the room behind Sanchez. He smiled as he realized his men would be there to watch his back. He glanced at Sanchez, "JD and Ezra, ok?" he asked.

"They're fine, Brother, just worried about you," the ex-preacher answered.

"T...tell em I'm f...fine," he said as drifted off to sleep.

"Bout time," Jackson said as he ushered the others out the door.

Vin nodded as the others passed but didn't leave the room. Guilt had been growing inside him since the day he'd taken the others and left Chris to protect the town. He knew it really wasn't his fault but it didn't ease his torment. His instincts about the gang of men camping so close to Miss Nettie's place were wrong. He knew that now. Josiah informed them that the gang was indeed gone, drove home the fact that he'd placed his friend's life in jeopardy. He knew what Chris Larabee would say if he knew what he was thinking. He'd tell the sharpshooter he trusted his instincts more than other people's sure bets. They'd talked about the same thing many times over but it never seemed to ease the guilt when someone was hurt because he'd acted on those instincts. At times like this it didn't matter to him that he was right ninety-nine percent of the time. He slid down to the floor on the opposite side of the bed. His eyes met Mary's and the two people realized they'd do anything to protect the man on the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next two days passed in a haze for Chris as he struggled to control the pains in his body. The one constant that kept him from giving up was the sharpshooter, always there to help him when things were really bad, making sure he ate and drank everything Martha prepared. Helping bath his brow when the fever continued unabated and making sure he never woke up alone. Nathan alternated between the Laudanum and the Willow bark tea in an effort to curb the pain and diminish the fever Larabee still had.

Chris opened his eyes and looked at the young man beside his bed. Tanner's eyes were closed and his head leaned forward on his chest. Chris could make out the drawn features and the dark shadows under his friends eyes. He hated the thought that he was the one causing them. Slowly he tried to sit up, suppressing the moan that tried to escape his throat. He closed his eyes and waited for the dizziness to pass.

"Goin' somewhere, Cowboy?"

The softly spoken words startled the gunslinger and he dropped back on the pillows. "Was plannin' on getting out of bed," he answered honestly.

"I don't think that'd be a wise idea right now, Larabee, ya'd just start yerself bleedin' again and I spect Nathan'd be ready to shoot us both."

"Tired of being in bed, Vin," Larabee coughed and groaned as he clutched his chest.

"Here, Cowboy, drink this," Tanner held the glass of water to the injured man's lips and waited till he signaled he was done.

"T...thanks," he said as he looked into the depths of the blue eyes. "Something wrong, Pard?" he asked. The silence from the younger man was nothing unusual but Larabee could see the pain etched on the handsome face. "Vin, what's wrong?"

The tracker stood up and stalked to the window, "Wrong, Chris, what could possibly be wrong?"

"Vin?"

"Look, Chris, let it go, alright?"

"No! It's not alright. What's wrong? What did I do now?"

"Ah, hell, Chris it's not what you did. It's what I did."

"Is something wrong in here?" Martha Wilson asked as she entered the bedroom, a tray held firmly in her hands.

"N...no," Larabee gasped. "We're just talking."

"Didn't sound like talkin' to me. You still need to rest, Chris."

"I am resting. Seems like that's all I've been doing," Larabee remarked his eyes never leaving the still form of the tracker.

"Well you sure had me fooled. Thought you was having a fight in here. Vin, give me a hand to sit him up a bit," Martha ordered.

Tanner turned away from the window and moved to the bed. he lifted the pale blond forward and Martha slipped the pillows behind him. Beads of sweat formed on the injured man's forehead as he clenched his eyes tightly.

"Breath slow, Son," Martha ordered.

Larabee waited for the pain to subside, his hands fisted in the blanket that covered his heaving chest.

"Easy, Cowboy," Tanner whispered as he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"T...thanks, Vin."

"Alright now, Chris, you'd best get eatin' this before it gets cold," Martha ordered.

"I'll see that he does, ma'am," Tanner assured her as she looked from one man to the other before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

"Now you ready to tell me what's really bothering you, Vin?"

Tanner looked into the green eyes and knew Larabee would not let this rest. Taking a deep breath he spoke softly, his eyes downcast as the guilt washed over him. "I nearly got ya killed, Chris."

Larabee sat forward on the bed, ignoring the fiery pain erupting in his chest. "What the hell are you talking about, Tanner?"

"Left ya alone in the town while I took the others on a wild goose chase. Shoulda known better. Should never have left ya alone when ya wasn't yerself."

"Vin, you needed to check that gang out. There was nothing going on in town and you had no way of knowing Donaldson was there or that he was setting me up. Jesus, Vin, if anyone's at fault here it's me for following Lydia out of town without letting someone come with me. Nathan told me not to get on a horse or I would've been with you guys instead of back in town. Did I listen to him? No! I rode out of Four Corners like some kind of damned hero and help Lydia. Did I help her? No, just got myself all busted up because I felt sorry for the woman. But ya know what, Vin, I'd do it again. No one deserves to go through what she's been through."

"She could've come to us for help."

"She couldn't take that chance, Vin. He was threatening her son. Their son. What kinda sick son of a bitch threatens a child let alone his own son. He kept telling her he'd kill him, Vin, and all I could do was think of Adam and what I'd do if it was him being threatened."

"I guess there's plenty of guilt ta go around, Cowboy. I think maybe it's time ta let it all go. Sides ya gotta eat this fore Martha comes back in or she'll have both our hides."

"Eat, Vin? Don't you mean drink?" Larabee asked, a weak smile on his face.

"Well, Cowboy," Tanner smiled back, " drink up cause there's more where that came from.

"Ah, hell, Vin, don't remind me. Nathan's probably gonna stick me on this stuff until we get back to town."

"Reckon he figures it's about all ya can handle right now, Cowboy. Drink up and go to sleep."

"Drink and sleep. Seems like that's all I ever do anymore."

Tanner smiled as Larabee lifted the spoon and finished off the liquid lunch. It wasn't long before the green eyes were sliding shut and he quickly removed the tray. "Night, Cowboy," he whispered.

"Night, Vin," was the tired reply.

~~~~~~~~~~

Another three days passed before Nathan Jackson declared Larabee was strong enough to make the trek back to Four Corners. Larabee smiled as his friends made everything ready for the trip. He'd argued with Nathan that he was strong enough to ride but one look from Martha Wilson convinced him he should wait until they were out of her sight before he attempted to convince the healer otherwise.

Buck and Vin helped him out to the wagon where a mattress and blankets were already in place. They passed him up to the waiting arms of the ex-preacher and the tracker who placed him gently on the mattress. By the time he was stretched out he was breathing heavily against a wave of nausea and knew he couldn't have sat on a horse if his life depended on it. Jackson was there with the laudanum and although he tried to protest he finally swallowed the medicine and waited for the tremors to pass.

"We'll be leaving in a couple of minutes, Chris. You just relax and enjoy the ride," Jackson told him as he tucked the blankets around the gunslinger.

"Hmm," Larabee answered. 'I will when we get out of here and I get on my own damn horse,' he thought.

"Martha, you ready to go?"

Larabee lifted his head in an effort to see what was going on. His eyes took in the smug grin on the healers face. "Nathan?" he asked as he saw three women walking towards them.

"Oh didn't I tell you? The Wilsons' need to get some supplies so they've decided to travel with us."

"Ah, Hell," Larabee hissed as the three women stopped before him. Lydia smiled at him, Mary looked concerned, but Martha's eyes were filled with devilment as she looked at him.

"Well, Chris, looks like I'll be taking care of you for another day or two. So you might as well lie back and take it. Oh and there'll be no more talk of riding your horse. You got that, young man?"

"This is going to be the longest trip of my life," he said as the three women stared at him. "Wipe that look off your face, Tanner. You too, Wilmington."

Laughter filled the air as the men realized Chris Larabee would have three female protectors for the journey back to Four Corners. This was going to be an easier trip than they thought and each man breathed a sigh of relief as the formidable Martha Wilson climbed into the back of the wagon and sat next to the gunslinger.

"Well, Tom, let's get this man home and into his own bed," she ordered, smiling at her husband before turning back to the gunslinger. "Might as well relax and get some sleep cause you won't be doin' anything to wreck Nathan's handiwork," she told him and watched the eyes flutter closed.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris sat in front of the saloon watching as the stagecoach headed out of town. Three weeks had come and gone since they'd arrived in Four Corners. His legs and chest were healing but he was still unable to get around as well as he'd like. The six men he called family were standing around him, forming a protective circle without even realizing it. Chris smiled as he remembered the look on Lydia's face as he handed her the telegram a week ago. Her eyes filled with tears and she'd sobbed gratefully on his shoulder as the fears of the last few years melted away.

The telegram was from Judge Travis and informed them that Lydia's son was living in Boston and that Donaldson's family had no idea what he was doing. They were more than willing to let Lydia become a part of her son's life and had even sent her the money to make the journey to the city.

Larabee breathed deeply and wished her well. His eyes coming to rest on the blond woman walking towards him. "Afternoon, Mary."

"Chris, how're you feeling today?" she asked.

"To tell you the truth, Mary, I feel better than I have in a long, long time," he said as he looked around at his group of friends. Somehow these men continued to defy logic and stay friends in spite of their diverse backgrounds. He looked from one to the other, smiling briefly at the healer, the sharpshooter, the ladies man, the ex preacher, the gambler, and finally the kid. "Thanks, Boys," he said not expecting or receiving an answer yet knowing instinctively they knew and understood his words. If a man's wealth was measured by the friends he kept then he was the richest man on earth.