Disclaimers: don’t own them never will. But I play with them sometimes. No money made. No copyright infringement intended.

Rating PG

Universe: OW

Notes. I really struggled with this afraid I would not be able to portray Indians the way I wanted and at least in the spirit of truth. I chickened and simply took the series way out and they are kind of a generic Southwestern Indian. No specific tribe. The Story of Sad Eyes I got from a book called "Old Father the story teller" by; Pablita Velarde, Dale Stuart King, publisher Globe, Arizona 1960. I have to thank Winnie, Julie and especially LaraMee for their help and encouragement, and thanks to Kathy (doc) for betaing for me.

1. The trick Vin and the boys play on Dove is one my husband played on his mom when he was little at the instigation of his father. To his dying day Dad denied knowing anything about it.
2. A horned toad, or horny toad is a small round lizard with little horns all over its back and head. Some are soft and the two large one on the head are sharp and hard. In Southeastern New Mexico where I grew up we use to catch them all the time. If you rub their tummies they ‘fall asleep’ and stay that way until you turn them back over and set them down. They are almost gone now too bad they ate ants.

Feedback: yes please especially if you like it. No flames cause I’ll cry.

Vin Tanner lay half buried under the rock and mudslide. The sun baked down on his nearly naked body. The force of the slide having pushed him down the hill ripping to shreds his shirt and pants, his skin red from the blood of many little cuts and too much sun with an underlying bluish purple of the deep bruising. The mud he lay in was drying out with a crust of cracked dirt on top. The right side of his head was slashed and bleeding. It was the red bandana fluttering in the wind that attracted Wind’s attention.

Slowing his pony Wind rode closer until he saw the longhaired man lying in the mud and rocks. Turning his pony the eight-year-old raced back to where his mother, grandfather and older sister and little brother were traveling. Sliding his pony to a stop in front of his grandfather he said. "Grandfather there is a man hurt by the rocks there."

"Does this man breathe?"

"I don’t know."

"Then come we shall see."

The old man followed Wind back to where Vin lay. He got stiffly off his horse and approached the body. His eyes taking in most of the injuries before he even knelt beside the still tracker. The old man reached out and turning Vin was astonished to see the remains of a medicine bag showing between the fingers of his hand. Grandfather noted the shallow steady breaths and the dried blood that covered the face of the young man.

"Is he dead Grandfather?"

"No he lives, bring your mother."

The old man with a practiced eye looked over the young man. He was not of the People yet clutched in his hand was a medicine bag the leather thong still partly around his neck. The wound to the head looked very bad because there was so much blood. Grandfather wondered at the power of the Spirit Guardian this one had that he still lived. The sun was already turning his skin red where it wasn’t covered with mud and blood. Touching the forehead of the wounded man Grandfather could feel the beginnings of a fever radiating from the still form.

He heard his daughter approach. Her breath hissed. "He is a white man. Let us leave him here and go."

"Yes, he is white, but Willow he wears a medicine bag."

"Perhaps he stole it."

Neither noticed the eyes flutter. **Voices, he heard voices talking a long way off. His head hurt so, his whole body hurt. Why? The voices kept talking he couldn’t think.** "Please help me." Vin rasped out. He tried again to open his eyes but it was so hard, the light was so bright.

The old man and his daughter stopped. The white man spoke the language of the People. Kneeling again the old man reached out laying his hand gently on Vin’s shoulder.

"We will help you young man."

His eyes opening only enough to make bloodshot slits Vin squinted up at the old man, asking in the same language he’d heard. "Grandfather, did my pony throw me? Is he alright?"

"Yes, rest now we will tend you."

Vin’s eyes slowly closed as he sighed and relaxed back into unconsciousness. The old man looked at his daughter. He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Yes, Father, we will tend him. He is of the People."

The woman set about getting the things she needed and ordering the children to build a small fire and gather wood. As she worked she worried. They were just one family traveling alone in hostile territory. Even though there was only five of them and three being children, she feared attracting unwanted attention. Her father had decided they must join a nephew and his band and had pestered the agents until the small family was given permission. Willow sighed again, she was still young and it had been four years since her husband had been killed. Her boys needed a man to teach them. Her father tried, but boys of eight and six years weren’t interested in the spiritual things her father was expert at. Now they added an extra burden in the form of this white man. But it was her duty to take care of him. Her father had said he was of the People, and it must be so.

She spread a hide robe to move Vin onto. She and the grandfather gently moved Vin being careful not to aggravate his injuries. Willow then began treating his wounds. She removed the shredded shirt and pants and washed and put salve on all the cuts. The cut on Vins’ head had stopped bleeding so she left it alone except for the healing salve. None of the cuts required stitches. Through out all her ministrations Vin didn’t wake or even moan even though she pressed on the numerous bruises at times. There wasn’t anything she could do about the deep bruises especially the one on his lower back, until they camped that night. Then she could put drawing poultices on them. The tracker didn’t wake or react, not even when they loaded him onto the travois and started moving again.

While Willow worked on Vin the old man walked around the area where the mudslide had stopped. He saw hoof prints but found no horse or any of the young mans’ tack. He went back and watched his daughter finish her treatment of the man’s injuries. He noted the many scars on the limp body and wondered at this ones hard path.

The youngest boy Ferret, who was six, was assigned to watch about him and to call if he started to move or woke up. The old man rode slightly ahead of the rest deep in thought. This young man was a puzzle and he needed to understand why they had crossed his path. As he body rocked in the familiar rhythm of the walking horse his mind drifted in prayer and meditation.

They traveled another four hours before they came to a camping place with water and wood. They set up camp quickly. Each person in the small group knowing exactly what they had to do for the night. Once a fire was started and the horses tended the woman and girl Dove started cooking. The boys were busy gathering wood for the night and making sure the campsite was safe from snakes and other unwelcome guests.

Vin was laid in the shade. The old man sat beside Vin and was the first to notice when the blue eyes opened. "Rest easy son, you are safe."

Vin looked around his eyes just slits. Even the dim light hurt enough that just holding his eyes open took great effort. His head hurt, in fact everything hurt and he couldn’t remember how he got here. Closing his eyes against the pain he asked in the same language, "How’d I get here?"

"We found you by the trail, there had been a mud slide."

"I…don’t remember."

"That is not uncommon. You hit your head." The old man took a cup of water and carefully holding up Vin’s head let him drink a little. "Not so much or you will be sick. Slowly."

The words didn’t quite make sense to Vin but he tried to understand. His pain so great it was easier not to think and just drink the water. When it was taken away he hadn’t the strength to protest, but just lay limply waiting for what came next. His eyes clinched closed against the dagger filled light and the noise of the camp. Bringing his arms up he tried to cover his ears and eyes to block out the painful sounds and light. Suddenly he rolled away from the old man and expelled the water he’d just drunk. Over and over the muscles in his stomach contracted until his whole body trembled from the effort. Finally when he was past the point of tears he could stop. Rolling back flat he gasped for air and again covered his head with his arms, the movement sending waves of agony up and down his back. He tried to even out his breathing, taking slow shallow breaths that didn’t seem to hurt as much.

Willow walked over to the makeshift bed and knelt down. "Here young man, this will help your stomach." She gently lifted his head a bit and placed the brim of a cup just touching his lip.

Vin could feel the heat and smell the mint as it steamed. He carefully sipped the herbal drink understanding that the tea was for settling his stomach. It did taste good but he could only drink a small amount before he slipped back in to unconsciousness.

The woman looked at the old man. "He could die."

"Yes."

"We could be blamed for killing a white man."

"Yes, but we will make him one of our own. I have thought of this since we found him. I do not know why he was sent to us but we must look after him. I have been told he is special and must be protected from those who would harm him. I think there are many men who would. We will protect him from those who would do so, red or white. I also know there will be those who search for him, they are friends."

"How will you know the difference?"

The old man took a deep breath, "we shall see. But we must keep him hidden from prying eyes until we know. Until his friends come."

"Will he accept this?"

"I do not think he will have a choice. I do not think he remembers anything. He gave no indication of who he was when he woke the first time. Perhaps the next time he wakes he will be able to tell us something."

The old man sat quietly watching the others sleep. It was late and like many old people he needed less sleep. He watched the young man toss and mumble in his sleep but he never said anything that gave the old man a clue of who he was or where he was from.

7 7 7 7 7 7

Chris Larabee watched the moonrise rubbing his arm and shoulder absently. The town was silent and asleep as he should be, but he couldn’t sleep. He told himself that he was acting like an old woman, jumping at shadows and dreams. Chris frowned at the thought of dreams. The past two nights his had been a jumble of images he couldn’t make sense of. Try as he might the images would disappear if he thought on them too hard. All he had was a restless uneasy feeling. **Larabee, get aholt of yourself. Vin isn’t even due back for two more weeks at best. Damn you gotta stop this or Buck’s gonna lock you up.** It didn’t do any good he still couldn’t get rid of the knot in his stomach that said ‘Something’ was wrong, very wrong.

If only Nathan had let him ride out with Vin a week ago. But no, Nathan had insisted that he needed to heal some more before he did any riding. " I know you Chris, you’ll forget to work that shoulder or you’ll pull it hurting it worse. You’re staying and for once doing what I say."

Vin had looked at him with laughing eyes. "Well Cowboy, it ain’t as if I’ve never been on the trail alone before." Then with a more serious tone, "It’s ok Chris. I just need to get away. Be off by myself for a while. I’ll be back after the next full moon. Maybe I’ll bring that stallion back with me."

"Watch your back. And if you aren’t back a week after the moon fills, I’m coming to find you."

Vin tipped his hat before he mounted Peso, smiled and said, " I’ll remember that Cowboy."

The moon would fill next week.

7 7 7 7 7

The next morning Vin still hadn’t stirred. Willow checked him for fever and found only a slight one. She checked the deeper cuts for signs of infection and found none. Sighing she looked at the old man. While not a shaman her father was considered very wise and in tune with spiritual things, many of the People sought him out for advice. That is why she didn’t argue when he’d told her his plan.

The girl Dove had the morning fire going and it was time to fix breakfast. Willow watched her with pride. She was turning into a fine young woman, it would only be a few more winters and she’d be courted, and married. The boys were rounding up the horses and watering them in case the grandfather decided it was time to go. They needed to move to a place with better grazing if possible.

The old man watched Vin sleep. He had become restless since the sun had come up and would turn his head away from the light. Even with his eyes closed it seemed to be painful to him. "Wake up young man." The grandfather said.

Vin could hear a voice. He wasn’t sure what the voice was saying. But the sound of it soothed him and made him feel safe. If only the pain would go away. He rolled again this time his eyes opening wide and a gasp escaping as white hot arrows of agony shot up his back and down his legs only to meet and fight for dominance with the pounding in his head.

"Be still, the pain will be less if you are still."

Vin blinked trying to clear his vision. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"Ah, questions. Better yet who are you?"

Vin thought but no answer came to him. He tried to find some kind of answer but there was nothing, no words, no faces, nothing to latch on to and say this is me. He looked at the old man in panic. " I….I can’t…I don’t know. My head hurts."

Grandfather patted Vin shoulder, "It is alright, you were in a mudslide. Your head was hit. Memory flees sometimes from this but comes back. You are safe here with us, with my family. You will come back to yourself in time."

Vin looked at the old man trying to understand what he meant. But it hurt too much to keep his eyes open. The light even in the dimness of the lodge was too bright and sent daggers into his skull. He closed his eyes, not in sleep but just to ease the pain. He tried to move, to roll over and the slight movement woke the wolf in his back. He bit his lip holding back the scream that was in his throat but couldn’t stop the tears that rolled out from under his lids. Barely breathing he lay absolutely still trying to wait out the pain.

The old man could see the struggle that Vin was going through so he continued to talk to help distract him. "My grandson Wind found you. We are traveling to join my nephews’ band. We found you yesterday, there had been a mudslide."

Vin cracked one eye, "did you find my horse? A big black with a blaze."

"No, there was no horse."

Vin signed, **Damn Mule musta run off.** Frowning in confusion he added, "I don’t remember." Vin tried harder to remember until the pain was unbearable and he sank into uneasy sleep his face tight.

Willow brought the old man his breakfast. "He woke?"

"Yes, but has no memory of what happened to him or who he is. I have thought on this all night. We must hide him among us."

"Hide him how? He is a white man any fool can see that."

"Yes, if they look and truly see. But if we let his skin darken from the sun, braid his hair and dress him, as a young boy, most will not give him a second glance. He has no name now, we will call him Cricket."

"That’s a child’s name." Willow protested.

"Yes, we will imply he is Spirit Touched, that he is only a child in his mind. That way if we see any whites they will look the other way. They do not understand about Spirit gifts. Our people will not question, at least not in front of the whites. He and we will be safe this way. When he comes back to himself then he can decide what to do."

7 7 7 7 7

"Damn it Nathan that hurts." Chris growled as Nathan gently rotated his shoulder.

"I know, but if I don’t do this you ain’t gonna be able to move that arm at all. Now hush for just a few more minutes. We’re almost finished and then you can start squeezin’ that ball I made you."

"What good is that gonna do?"

"I told you it strengthens the muscles and helps you recover sooner. What’s got you so grumpy this mornin’? Someone piss on your bedroll?"

"Hell no. I.. I’m sorry Nathan. I didn’t sleep last night. Got that uneasy feeling you get just before the storm. Don’t know why. Ouch, Nathan."

"Ok, I’m finished." Nathan eased the healing arm back into the sling and handed Chris the homemade fist sized ball. "Here, start squeezin’ it. Act like its’ my head if it makes you feel better." Sighing Nathan continued. "Look Chris, you torn the muscles and stuff in that shoulder pretty bad. It didn’t help that the night before that cowboy bounced a chair off your back at the saloon. You was already sore and bruised. Then when you got throwed, you landed wrong. I told you to wait on workin’ that filly but no, you just had to do it your way. You didn’t break anythin’, but all those strings of muscle got twisted and torn. That’s why I had your arm strapped down. But now we gotta start movin’ it slowly makin’ those same muscles stretch and loosen up. If we don’t they tend to freeze into one position, so now we start working them. We’ve both seen too many men who don’t heal right and lose the use of their arm. You do too much and it ain’t gonna heal right. You do too little and the muscles will still freeze and you won’t be able to use that arm at all. So be mad at me if you like, just do what I tell you for once and I’ll be happy."

Chris sighed and put he feet up on the rail around Nathan’s balcony. He began tightening his fingers around the ball. They were stiff and didn’t want to close; he could feel the ache all the way up his arm. Gritting his teeth he kept trying to ignore the pain. His eyes wondering from one end of town to the other as he worked.

Nathan shook his head. "Not too long and not too hard. Too much will do as much damage as too little. I’ll be inside if you need me."

Chris nodded absently his eyes drifting toward the outskirts of town. Hoping for the sight of the big black ambling into town.

7 7 7 7 7

Vin opened his eyes. The dimness didn’t hurt this time so he looked around stopping at the sight of a small boy sitting and staring. "Hello. Do I know you?"

The boy said nothing, just stared at him.

"What are you doing?"

"I am to watch you. I’m Ferret it’s my job."

"Oh, why?"

"You are wounded and sick. Grandfather wants me to watch you in case you get worse or better.

"Which am I worse or better?"

The boy shrugged, "Don’t know. We’ve talked before like this."

"We have?" Vin frowned, trying to remember having seen the boy much less talking to him. But there were no memories only pain. "How long have I been here?"

"My brother Wind found you 3 suns ago. You were in a mudslide."

Vin forgetting his back tried to sit up but the movement only awoke the pain. His head throbbed and the old familiar ache in his back almost made him scream when he shifted. His breath came in hard gasps as he fell back attempting to gain control of the pain.

Ferret watched him, and then remembering his duty offered Vin water. "Here, Grandfather says you must drink." He carefully held the carved cup to Vins’ lips. Vin managed a few swallows before his stomach started to roll and he turned his head away.

"No, no more," he said closing his eyes attempting to relax. Sometime during this attempt he drifted into unconsciousness again.

7 7 7 7

Chris tossed and turned on his hot bed. The ache in his shoulder wouldn’t stop and for the hundredth time he cursed Nathan and his damn exercises. Giving up, Chris pulled the whisky bottle from the drawer and took a long pull from it. He opened the window full up feeling the breeze brush his bare chest. The whisky tasted awful tonight but it would dull the ache.

Chris took another drink looking at the setting moon and unconsciously flexed his fingers. He would never admit it, but Nathan’s torture was working. It was easier to move his arm. But it still hurt like hell. Chris sighed taking another drink and looked at the moon again. **I wish you’d come home early Cowboy.** Three days more and the moon would fill. Rolling his shoulder once more he put the stopper back in the bottle and sighing looked back at the moon.

7 7 7 7

Over the next two days Vin drifted in and out of consciousness as they traveled slowly away from the place they had found him. He was, when awake in agony and always being pestered to drink something. His only respite was to fall again into the black hole that waited for him. By the fifth day he was more aware of the people around him and was beginning to remember who they each were from one waking time to another.

In the dim light of the evening he watched through cracked eyelids as the family began to set up camp. The girl Dove helped her mother pitch the lodge and start a fire. Then Dove went off somewhere and he could only see Willow moving about. Most of what he saw didn’t seem to make sense and he tried to understand what was going on.

Before long the old man came and sat by him. "You are awake again." It wasn’t a question.

"Yes."

The old man offered Vin a cup. "Drink."

Vin reached for it but missed. He tried again and his hand still couldn’t find the cup he saw. He grunted in frustration as he tried to make his hand and fingers go where he thought they were supposed to go. After another try and failure Grandfather placed the cup in Vin’s hand and waited for his fingers to close around it before he let go.

Vin concentrated hard trying to make his fingers close firmly around the cup. At last he had a firm grip on the cup and with help lifted it to his mouth. Only his mouth wasn’t where it should have been and he almost spilt the liquid instead. Again the gentle hand guided his to the correct place and he finally drank. But as soon as the old mans hand was gone Vin’s grip slipped and the now empty cup fell.

He turned his head and looked at it lying on the ground beside him and slowly reached out and tried to again pick up the cup. But again his hand couldn’t find the cup and finally in frustration he balled his hand into a fist and swiped at it, missing. The angry movement only woke the throbbing in his back. He turned away his stomach clucked in fear. **What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he do anything? Why wouldn’t his body do what he told it to?** He looked at his hands lying beside him. They didn’t even seem like his. They seemed to have a will of their own. **Was it his hands that wouldn’t obey or did his eyes deceive him? Was he seeing what wasn’t there?** The harder he thought on it the worse his head hurt until his stomach rebelled and he lost everything he’d drunk.

Vin was vaguely aware of Willow beside him murmuring softly and gently cleaning him and the bedding up. He felt her hand brush his forehead but was unaware of anything else as he drifted again to the comfortable darkness. Willow looked at her father. "He grows worse, if he can not eat or drink he will die."

"It seems so. But I believe he will survive, he is very strong. The Spirits sent him to us for a reason. Most men would have died in the slide."

7 7 7

"Chris Larabee you were supposed to be in my clinic an hour ago."

Chris looked up from his whisky-laced coffee at the irate Nathan. "Let it go, Nathan."

"Nah, I ain’t gonna let it go Chris. I know it hurts, and I know how much you hate this. But it has to be done. Unless your gonna take up farmin’ instead of gun slingin’."

Chris glared at Nathan but he didn’t back down. Growling Chris stood knocking over the chair and stomped off toward the clinic. "I hate farming!" He said under his breath.

7 7 7 7 7 7

When Vin woke again the grandfather was sitting quietly beside him.

"You are awake again. Do you understand me?"

Vin blinked several times before he carefully nodded his head. "Yes."

The old man spoke softly and slowly making sure Vin followed what he said. "When I was a boy there was a young warrior who was hurt very badly. He was kicked in the head by a wild horse and we thought he would die. But he did not die, he lived, but at the beginning he could not move or even talk. He was young and his mother would not give up on him. She took care of him as if he were a baby. She taught him to do things again. She made it a game and got all the children involved. She was a wise woman and each of us took turns trying to teach this young man how to use his body again. It was not only a victory for him but for each of us as we helped him. By and by he could do everything he could before. Everything, except he never talked again. But he tamed that horse."

"I can talk."

"Yes, you can. But you must be patient with yourself; you may find other things difficult to do. You will not heal overnight. It is a great fight you must win before you are better. Perhaps when you win this battle you will also remember who you are."

Vin just looked at the old man so Grandfather continued. "We will call you Cricket until you remember. There is a thing you must do. There are white men all around us. I have paper saying we can go to find my nephew but you are a young warrior and any whites would be suspicious of you. If any come to us you must play the part of a Spirit Touched one. If you have the mind of a child, one who needs to be cared for, and then we can explain you being with us. Whites are afraid of the Spirit Touched, they will not want to be near you, and they will not even look at you but past you. But you must not let them see your eyes. They are sky colored and if the whites see them they will take you away claiming you are not one of us and lock you up in a bad place. I have heard of such places, they kill a man’s spirit long before his body dies. The Spirit has told me that we must protect you, especially from some white men."

"My eyes are sky colored? How is this so?"

"It is true, I do not believe you were born to the People but your are one of us nevertheless."

Vin closed his eyes, the questions as well as the pain growing by the second. ** Who was he? If he didn’t belong with this people where did he belong?** He felt a great sob growing deep in his chest but before he could shame himself in front of the old man he passed out again. The darkness was becoming a welcome friend.

The old man watched the battle raging on Vin’s face. He knew from the scars on the young mans’ body that he’d fought many battles. But he felt sure that this man won his them, somehow. He only hoped ‘Cricket’ was strong enough to win this new battle.

7 7 7 7 7 7

Vin was dreaming. **No, don’t, Peso!!!!!** He jerked wake the sudden movement bringing on a burst of agony. "Peso!!"

Instantly Willow was by his side, offering him a drink. She gently rolled him onto his side and lifted his head. "Here, you must drink, then I will change the poultice on you back."

Vin sipped at the liquid and looked around everyone else was asleep. He looked up at Willow. "Do you know the word ‘peso’?"

Willow shook her head, "No. Perhaps my father does, he has traveled far. It is a strange word ‘peso’ yes?"

Vin blinked sleepily, "I guess, don’t remember what it means, just the word."

Willow helped him roll back onto his stomach and taking to cooled damp poultice from his back she started preparing another. When she returned to Vin’s side he was asleep so she gently packed the hot greens on the now multicolored bruises and covered them to keep the heat in as long as possible.

Vin moaned in his sleep at the heat but didn’t wake.

7 7 7 7

Buck Wilmington burst into the stable, "Chris Larabee what the hell do you think your doing?" He almost shouted seeing his old friend struggling to saddle Pony one armed.

Chris looked up leaning against Pony for support. "I gotta get out of town for a while Buck. I’m just going out to my place for a while."

"Are you crazy? Nathan will skin you alive. You can hardly take care of yourself, how you gonna ride out to your shack and take care of you or Pony when you get there?"

Chris tightened his jaw. "I’ll manage. I have to go Buck, I..I just have to." Chris stepped back lifting the heavy saddle one handed to swing it onto Pony’s back.

Buck stepped forward and taking the saddle from Chris laid it on the horse and cinched it up. " I won’t tell on you Stud. But I will come by later to make sure your still standing, or sitting as the case may be."

Chris nodded. "Thanks Buck. I just need to go, can’t explain it."

By the time Chris got to his cabin he was holding onto the saddle horn for support. **Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.** He hadn’t hurt this bad since the day that green filly threw him. He was hoping he could manage once he got to the cabin to control the growing ache in his side and shoulder. He kept flexing his fingers trying to make the tingling go away.

Pony suddenly stopped and raising his head nickered a greeting. Chris’ head shot up hoping it was Vin. Not seeing the tracker on his porch he looked toward the corral. There standing by the water trough was Peso. He rode closer shocked by the sight of the usually well cared for horse.

Peso stood with his head down and holding his left front hoof up. He was covered with mud, and what looked like scratches and scrapes. His saddle was gone but he still had on his bridle although the reins were broken off near the bit. At Pony’s nicker he raised his head and shaking it softly whinnied back.

Chris slowly approached the usually skittish horse and dismounting walked toward him talking softly. "Easy Peso, easy. It’s ok boy, what happened to you." With his hand out he reached for Peso’s bridle. "Easy Pard."

Peso watched him ears forward, but as Chris touched his bridle the ears went back, not quite flat but giving warning. "Easy you knot head, you’re not dealing with Vin and I will shoot you." Despite the words, Chris’ tone was soothing and gentle. Once he had a hold on the bridle he lead Peso closer to Pony to get a lead rope. Attaching that Chris turned to go over the bedraggled horse to check him for injuries.

He carefully ran his hands down Peso’s neck and shoulders then down the front legs and across the back and down the back legs. While he was caked in dried mud and covered with scratches he didn’t seem to have and serious injuries other then favoring his left front leg. The whole time Chris talked softly and reassuringly to the frightened horse.

"Where’s Vin boy, huh? You two get into some trouble? Easy, lets get you back to town and let Yosemite take care of you." Holding the lead rope Chris turned to Pony, taking the reins, he closed his eyes gathering strength before he swung into the saddle and headed back the way he’d come.

It was one of the longest rides Chris could ever remember. By the time he reached the outskirts of town he was swaying in the saddle barely conscious. Pony went straight to the saloon and stopped.

Buck glanced out the window and frowned when he saw Chris and the two horses. "JD, Nathan," he called as he headed out the door.

"Chris? Hey ol’ son." Buck called as he approached the slumped man. Just getting within reach Chris leaned over and started to fall from Pony’s back. Buck reached and caught him. "Chris?"

Feeling Buck’s support, Chris managed to open his eyes. "Buck? Found Peso at my place. I …." With those few words Chris sank into the darkness that had been beckoning for such a long time.

Buck scooped Chris into his arms and turning toward Nathan’s clinic called back to JD.

"JD, take care of the horses," Buck hurried up the stairs with Nathan following.

Buck laid Chris down and let Nathan check him out. "Nathan?"

"Give me a minute Buck. He don’t seem to be hurt just wore out. What in hell possessed you to let him ride off in the first place? None of you got any sense at all." Nathan continued to grumble under his breath as he carefully examined Chris for new injuries.

Buck was only half listening when it dawned on him that Chris had been leading Peso. But where was Vin? "Nathan?"

"He’s ok, just worn out I think."

Buck nodded and leaving said, "I’m going to see about Peso."

Nathan looked at Bucks’ retreating back, "Peso?"

7 7 7 7

Buck found JD washing down Peso muttering to himself as well as the horse. Peso was enjoying the attention; he liked JD while he only tolerated the others. Buck watched for a few minutes. Then called softly, "Hey JD. How is he? Can you tell what happened to him?"

"Hey Buck. He’s ok, just banged up a bit. Looks like he was in a fall of some kind. I think his leg is just bruised a little. Yosemite is getting some salve for the cuts. Where’s Vin? Vin wouldn’t leave Peso like this? You think Vin is hurt somewhere? Where’d Chris find Peso? How’s Chris?"

"Take a breath kid. I don’t know to most of that, Chris seems to be ok, just over did from what Nathan said. We’ll have to wait to ask him where he found Peso. Then maybe we’ll figure out where Vin is. I’m going back, you got things well taken care of here."

Buck Wilmington walked slowly back toward Nathan’s clinic. He knew he shouldn’t have let Chris go this morning but hell, Chris was a grown man. But now the mystery of where Vin was had grown. The tracker cussed that horse as much as he loved him and woe to anyone who tried to hurt him. So why had he showed up so dirty and beat up? Buck shook his head, he just knew this was going to get ugly and he hated ugly.

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Vin lay on his side while Willow checked out some of the deeper cuts on his back. He felt better then he had in days. The headache was less but the throbbing in his back and legs wouldn’t go away. No matter how he lay or sat they ached. If he lay too still they ached, if he moved they ached. Willow had said they would try another herbal poultice on his back tonight. It was to draw out the soreness and make the bruising less. She’d said again but Vin couldn’t remember any time before.

"Roll over." Willow ordered.

Vin lay back facing Willow. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Willow shrugged. "My father wished it."

"But?" Vin added

"But having you here puts us in danger. You are a white man and if you are found here my children will be in danger. But my Father is a wise man and he, he …the Spirits talk to him. They tell him what he must do. That is why we are on this journey. Now they say to take care of you and protect you so we do so."

Vin hung his head. "I’m sorry. How do you know I’m white, do not any of the People have sky eyes? Maybe only one of my parents was white, that would still mean I belo….I was still one of the People." Vin paused with a sigh, "I do not wish to cause you any trouble. You have been nothing but kind to me and I will repay you if I can."

"There is no need. Kindness it’s self is enough. I will send Ferret over to sit with you. He likes the things you show him." Before she left Willow gently placed her hand on his shoulder, "Sometimes, not often, but sometimes we do have light eyes." She said trying to ease the sorrow she heard in the man’s voice.

"I like Ferret to, he’s a good boy. He reminds me of …someone…." When Ferret got there they continued their game. Vin would make tracks of animals in the sand and Ferret would guess what each one was. While Vin lay curled on his side, he would wiggle his toes while Ferret guessed at the tracks he drew in the dirt. It sent tingling pains up his legs but each day it became easier. With each track he drew it became easier to control his hand and make it do what he wanted.

When she had the herbs hot enough Willow laid them in a soft rabbit skin and took them over to where Vin lay. "You must lay on you stomach. This is very warm but you must be still and let the hot herbs do their work."

Vin rolled over with some effort. Placing his arms under his head he felt Willow lower the waist of his breechclout. He hated this, hated having to let anyone touch him, to tend to him. He closed his eyes hiding his face, trying to hide his shame. She gently packed handfuls of the wet comfrey up and down his spine and then placed the fur over it to hold in the heat longer, pulling it tight and making sure it covered the whole area. She felt Vin shudder.

"You must lie still and let it work. I will remove it when it’s cool."

"I will." Vin said through gritted teeth. He could feel the heat burn his skin but underneath the bruising was soaking up the healing warmth. Vin laid very still his eyes closed again taking small even breaths as he waited for the poultice to cool.

Finally when it was cooler he opened his eyes to the full moon rising in the evening sky. Vin frowned, a full moon, there was something about a full moon. He concentrated hard on the moon willing it to tell him what he wanted to know. But as he tried to think the headache crept back and started pounding inside his head until the heat of the poultice fought the throb from his head making him sick at his stomach until he fell into the familiar darkness he spent most of his time in lately. Gladly he went toward it, the dark being the only respite from the unanswered questions and the constant pain.

Willow knelt down beside Cricket gently testing the heat left in the poultice. It had cooled but when she started removing in. Cricket tried to pull away from her.

"No, no more. Not another one p…please."

Willow laid a hand on his shoulder, "No not another one tonight. The bruising is much less. I think some sweet oil rubbed in would help more tonight."

Vin raised his head a little and looked at Willow. "Alright, just no more hot." His head sank down again and he looked out at the full moon. "Did the moon fill tonight?"

"Yes."

**Full moon, be back the week after…** Vin closed his eyes, what does that mean? Willow was massaging his back where it hurt the worst. Her strong hands kneading the tight muscles and making them relax under her ministrations. Vin sighed at the relaxing of his back muscles feeling the results down to his toes. He turned his head and watched the moon rise higher. Then there was something blocking the moonlight. Vin blinked and stared harder. It was the shape of a man, hat covering his face and long dark coat hiding his shape. Then as the figure stepped closer the light flashed on silver conchos at his hip. Vin reached out toward the aberration wanting more then anything to touch it, to name it, knowing somehow that this person was his safe haven.

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Chris slowly opened his eyes and looked around. Nathan’s again, it was night, but the bright moonlight let him see around the room. He looked out the window at the raising moon. It was full tonight. ** Where are you cowboy? What happened?** Then as if sending a message out by thought, **don’t worry cowboy, Peso and I’ll find you, somehow, we’ll find you.** Chris felt chill down his spine he reached out toward the window, swallowing the fear that rose he whispered aloud. "We will find you."

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Vin watched the sun rise. He tried moving various limbs, testing once again how much he could move before the pain became unbearable. It seems today he could move a little more. He hated having to depend on the others for every need. Once again he searched his mind also trying to remember something, anything from before now. Fuzzy pictures came to him of running and playing with other half naked boys, racing ponies and trapping small game for supper. None of the faces were clear and the voices were far off and he couldn’t quite understand what they said.

Vin looked down at his hands, seeing them clearer then before. They were a man’s hands full of calluses and scars and brown from the sun. Where were the years that were between now and the memories he had? Who was he? Where did he come from? The more he tried to answer these questions the tighter the knot in his stomach got, until clinching his fists he closed his eyes and his mind to these thoughts. He rolled over and lay flat on his back and the slowly bending the knee lifted one leg and then the other, stretching his muscles and testing his back to see if he could stand the movement. He gritted his teeth but wrapped his arms around one leg and carefully pulled it down to his stomach. Then repeated the movement with the other. He felt the sweat break out and cover his face and his breathing increase but he wouldn’t stop going back and forth from one leg to the other until he had tears running from his eyes.

Willow came into the lodge and saw what Vin was doing. "Stop that. Do you wish to undo all the good we have done for you back?"

Vin’s lower lip pushed out and his eyes flashed in anger. "Woman, I wish only to walk again and be done with your ministrations."

"Then be still and do not push yourself so hard. You will heal, but it will take time."

Vin dropped his leg and pounded his fists into the ground in frustration. "Can’t breath in here, can’t…."

Willow losing her anger said softly. "Cricket, we are staying here for today. Perhaps if you are strong enough later we can try to stand."

Blue eyes instantly went from anger to pleading. "Really?"

"Really, I have sent Wind on an errand and if he finds what I sent him for, well, we’ll see."

Vin grinned up at Willow forgetting his sudden anger. "Thank you."

Once Wind and his grandfather were back they and Willow carefully helped Vin outside. Standing Vin bit his lip trying to keep his balance but the ground kept swaying like a ship at sea and wouldn’t be still.

When Vin seemed to have his balance the old man called, "Wind?"

Vin looked up as Wind came closer he was carrying a long pole, almost as tall as Vin and as thick around as his wrist. It looked sturdy and was straight. Frowning Vin looked at Grandfather.

"It is for you to help you get around."

Vin took his arm from around Willows neck and reached for the pole. Feeling it’s sturdiness and smoothness he could see lots of work went into making it for him. "Thank you," he whispered. Grasping the staff firmly and bringing it closer to him, Vin slowly let go of Grandfather and stood on his own. He was unsteady as a newborn foal, and his back protested but he was smiling. He carefully took a step forward, then another. By the third step everyone was smiling and clapping hands.

Then before his triumph turned into failure, Willow went to him and helped him sit down. "Not to much, you must heal. Falling would not help."

Vin was too happy to argue, he’d walked, more or less on his own, and although his back was protesting it wasn’t screaming. He grinned his happiness up at Willow. Dove pushed a pack for him to lean against.

"Stay there, I will bring you something to eat and some more healing tea."

"Horse piss" Vin said in English.

"What?" Willow asked frowning at the strange word.

Confusion! Vin looked at Willow, "I…I don’t know. The word just came to me. Grandfather?"

The old man shrugged, "It sounded like a white word, maybe?"

Vin sipped the tea, where had that strange word come from? What did it mean? He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep only to wake startled by a strange dream. He was riding a big black with a white blaze and his brothers surrounded him, but he couldn’t see their faces. When he looked at the rider next to him, the sun flashed on the silver conchos at the riders’ hip. The word **BROTHERS?** echoed in his mind.

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Nathan watched as Chris dreamed. He had had a restless night and even though he didn’t admit it Nathan knew that he was in pain. Not only from his shoulder but also from not knowing what had happened to Vin. They all knew that something had happened because Peso would never have been left alone and in the shape he was in, if Vin could help it.

Chris mumbled in his sleep and sweat popped out on his forehead. He tossed his head and reached out toward something only he could see. Then with sudden despair showing on his face, his hand dropped to the side of the bed and green eyes opened. He looked around the clinic and at Nathan, but he had no words to describe what he was feeling. Nothing could make the heaviness in his chest any less. **Vin, something was wrong with Vin.**

Nathan wanting as always to ease the pain he saw in Chris’ eyes started to speak. But could think of nothing to say. He reached out and laying his hand on Chris’ arm squeezed. Hoping the action would in some way convey the reassurance he wanted to give. "We’ll go lookin’ tomorrow Chris."

Chris Larabee gritted his teeth, "Today." He growled out.

Nathan shook his head, "Tomorrow, if I think you’re up to it. It won’t do no good to take off and then have to come back carryin’ you cause you collapsed on the trail."

Chris tried his glare, "I m grown man Nathan, I know when I’m ready."

"Sure you do Chris, that’s why you collapsed when you rode into town yesterday evenin’."

Chris stared at Nathan, then signing relaxed. "I hate this."

"I know."

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Vin was walking, or hobbling along with the boys and Dove. The walking strengthened his

back as well as gave him something to do. They were walking along the edge of a deep arroyo when Vin saw the cowboys ride up to where Grandfather and Willow were riding. He signaled and couched down watching. He slammed his hand down in the air signaling the boys and Dove to crouch down too. His heart beat faster and his breath suddenly came in gasps as the unnamed fear clinched his stomach.

"Dove, you stay here no matter what. Get low in the bottom of the arroyo. Boys you must stay back and out of sight. You might be needed to protect Dove." Vin shook the sudden appearance of terrifying images of blood and screaming. "If they… if it seems they will hurt Grandfather or your mother run, separate and run and hide. Be sure to lead them away from Dove."

The three children nodded. Dove found a bushy place under the edge of the arroyo where she could hide and watch. The boys scattered crouching behind the gray green bushes seemingly to disappear.

Vin watched studying the three cowboys. Somehow he didn’t think the men meant any harm. Their attitude and the way they moved was belligerent but not hateful. He must keep them from getting deadly. Vin looked around and under a near by bush was a huge horned toad. Grabbling it and rubbing its belly until it was still Vin left his staff and stumbled forward. Going toward the cowboys scared him more then anything he could remember.

The three cowboys were bored. They’d been riding looking for strays for almost a week and had heard each other’s jokes and stories at least 3 times over. When Tommy Jo saw the old Indian man and the woman he though it would be a break from the boredom.

"Spud, lets go have some fun." Spud the youngest of the three grinned. "Sure Tommy."

Tommy led the way pulling to a stop in front of the Indians. "Hey ol’ man where you goin’?"

Grandfather stopped his horse and sat quietly. Willow watched keeping herself from looking around for her children.

Vin’s leg dragged some and he let it show more then he would have normally. He even let the pain of moving without the support of the staff show on his face. Hopefully making himself sound very young he called. "Grandfather look what I found."

At the sound of his voice the cowboys turned. Coming toward them was an almost naked young Indian man. He walked funny dragging one leg. In his hands was the biggest horned toad they’d ever seen.

The old man jumped from his horse. Walking toward Vin, playing his part, "Cricket, That’s a very nice Toad."

Vin his head down looking at the toad while he rubbed its tummy furtively looked through his hair at the placement of each person. Then as if seeing the cowboys for the first time let out a small scream falling to the ground he covered his head with his arms. Saying over and over a word that sounded to the cowboys very much like ‘devils’.

Jason looked at the frightened man and suddenly remembered his baby brother who never grew up.. "God Tommy Jo leave them be. They got enough trouble."

Tommy spit trying to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth. "Yeah, let go." The three cowboys rode away avoiding looking at the pitiful man and the old man comforting him.

Vin peeked between his fingers. "It worked? Grandfather? They ride away?"

"Yes. You did well. Where are the children?"

"I told them to hide in the arroyo."

Willow turned her horse and rode over calling "You can come out now it’s safe."

Grandfather looked at Vin carefully. "Are you alright? That was a very brave thing for you to do."

"I’m fine." Vin looked away staring into the dust left by the cowboys. "I couldn’t let it happen again." He almost whispered.

"Let what happen again?"

Vin looked back at Grandfather. "I…I don’t know. Something bad…something very bad." He started rubbing his temples. He closed his eyes as the pain in his head increased.

Seeing Vin’s pain and distress the old man said, "Come Cricket. Lay down on the travois, you have done enough for today."

Unresisting Vin let the elder lead him over and lay him down. He sighed in relief as the cool damp cloth was laid across his eyes. Before they were moving again he slept.

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Buck shook his head in wonder, could anything else happen. He looked up at the clinic door knowing he was going to have to tell Chris about the telegram. He’d almost rather get shot. Instead he walked up the stairs and entered to find Chris sitting on the bed dressed.

"Buck?"

"Hey Stud, you’re looking better."

"Sure I am, what’s up?"

Buck cleared his throat, "got a telegram from the Judge."

Chris held his hand out, "and?"

"And the Judge needs four of us here in town for the next week or so."

Chris looked past Buck, thinking. "Then I’ll go alone."

"No you won’t. Josiah said he’d go. Nathan would, but Mrs. Romero is due any day and he’s worried about her. So we decided, it’s you and Josiah."

"You decided."

Buck stood straighter, "Yea, we talked it over and we decided."

"Do I get a say?"

"Not this time Stud, you’re out numbered and in the shape you’re in you can’t go alone."

Chris knew Buck was right; he just hated to admit it. "Fine I’m leaving as soon as I get saddled up."

Grinning Buck nodded. "Josiah’ll be ready."

When Chris got to the stable Josiah was waiting with Pony saddled and Peso on a long lead. Chris simply nodded and gathering the reins mounted.

"Which way Brother."

Chris eyed the distant horizon. "Vin said one time he wanted to go up in the Caballo’s. Said Chanu told him of a big horse herd running up there lead by a big paint stallion. Said he had a hankering to see that stallion. I guess we’ll head that way."

Josiah nodded. "Heard they’ve had some pretty good rains up there the last few weeks. Folks passing through have talked about the wash outs all over the hills."

Chris nodded and turned Pony heading out of town, leading Peso.

Nathan stood by the clinic stairs watching, "Ya remember what I told ya to do Chris Larabee, I told Josiah what to do too." He called out to Chris and Josiah as they rode past.

Chris ignored him as he rode on by.

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Vin leaned back his head looking at the sky. Everyone in camp had something to do but him. A deep-seated frustration crawled through him making ready to jump out of his skin. He hated being helpless and he hated doing nothing. Grandfather lead Wind’s pony over to where Vin sat.

"We will travel today. There is a place we should come to before dark. There is a spring and grazing and trees. It is a good place and we will stay there a day or two. Rest the horses, let Willow gather her herbs…."

"And give me time to heal some more?"

"That is another reason, but not the only one. If you wish you may try riding Winds’ pony today."

Vin’s eyes lit up.

"But, you must say when it becomes to hard. Do not bother to protest, it will become to hard and you must ride on the travois again."

Vin awkwardly got to his feet and the old man gave him a leg up. He settled himself and felt sure he could ride all day. But within an hour the constant rocking motion made his back began to ache and by the time they stopped for a noonday rest and meal he was pale and sweating from the pain. His lips tightly clinched to keep the moans inside. Wind had to lift his right leg for him in order for him to slide off the horse. When his feet touched the ground his knees gave and he would have fallen if Willow hadn’t caught him. She half carried him to the travois and helped him lay down.

Shaking her head and clucking her tongue "Foolish man. You never know when to say enough. Does your head hurt also or only your back?"

Vin clenched his eyes shut; "I’m fine."

Willow snorted, not bothering to answer and went to get some tea she’d made that morning. She knew she’d need it. She’d never met a man that had any sense when it came to being hurt. Bringing the container back she sat and lifted Vin’s head so he could sip the cool liquid. Men were all the same they always said they were fine while they were not. Vin sipped a small amount of the tea before his stomach rebelled, which brought on the new headache.

He looked up at her afterward. "Maybe not fine. My head hurts. I….I don’t feel…." Before Vin could finish his eyes rolled up in his head and he went limp in Willows arms.

Willow shaded his head and looked at the others, "we can go on now. He will feel nothing for a while."

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Grandfather watched for the entrance to the small canyon he wanted. It was hard to spot and hid the valuable fact that it had water in it. There was a small spring at the back. Fresh cool water that trickled out between rocks and before it flowed outside the canyon entrance it dried up. Unless you knew of the spring no one would consider going inside the canyons confines to camp. But he knew that there were trees and grass for the horses and lots of small game for the boys to hunt. They were coming to the hardest part of their journey and the horses needed to rest and they needed to stock up on food and water while they waited for ‘Cricket’ to either get better or die. He didn’t really think he would die, but life was fickle and he’d learned long ago not to try to second-guess it.

He liked the young man, learned much of his character watching him battle his pain and confusion. He thought on the things he’d heard while Cricket slept, mumbling for the most part things he couldn’t understand but he would catch a word or two. He had learned of Cricket being forced from his life with the People. Of his pain and anger. The old man shook his head why couldn’t the white man understand that some things should be left alone. It was an arrogance that they would some day pay for, if not in this life then in the next.

But what had happened between now and the time he was separated from the People? There were not so many as 10 years. Of those years there were no words, only tight-lipped grimaces. Only when he said the word ‘Chris’ did his face relax and his breathing become slow and restful. This magic word, what did it mean. Was it a person, a place? For the first time the old man wished his English were better. He knew that it was a white word but it’s meaning eluded him.

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Chris and Josiah rode silently. The easy silence was comfortable to both men each lost in their own thoughts. They rested only when Josiah insisted because of the horses and at night Chris seemed never to sleep. On more then one occasion Josiah would wake hearing Chris talking to Peso, standing beside him smoking. Chris was always the first up and the last to lie down. But Josiah being a wise man said nothing and simply watched over his friend.

It took three days to reach the edge of the mountain range called Caballo. Then came the hard part, finding where Vin went in or if he did. They stopped at a small Mexican village. Josiah approached the group of old men sitting in the shade of the cantina. "Please, does anyone speak English?" He asked in halting Spanish.

One old man stood. "I do Senior. What is it you wish to ask?"

"Some time ago a friend of ours went looking for the big wild horse herd in the mountains. We were wondering if you’d seen him. Longhaired fella, in buckskin, rides a big black with a blaze. That big black." He pointed to Peso.

The old man squinted at the horse and back at Josiah, "Maybe so, a man ride threw like that."

"If a man did, looking for those horses, which way would he go into the mountains?"

The old man turned and conferred with his friends in rapid Spanish. "There is a canyon, maybe so a half days ride. This herd has been seen there, Que no?"

The other men nodded "Si."

"You will know it Senor, there was a mudslide, three maybe four weeks ago."

Josiah touched the tip of his had. "Gracias, Thank you." And he and Chris turned again toward the mountains.

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Josiah stood back watching and waiting for the enviable blowup that would come. The rock and mudslide had been huge; it spread out over a mile. The mud now dry and sandy sifted and blew in the ever-present wind. Little tuffs of green were appearing in the cracks of the dried dirt.

Chris stood looking down at the broken saddle laying upside down, half buried. Finally Chris pulled the saddle out of the hard clods and turned it over. Still tied to the back was what looked like the hide coat of the Tracker. With shaking hands Chris untied the leather straps that still held the saddlebags and coat in place. He lifted the coat, stiff from being wet and covered with the mud. Chris shook it hard once to dislodge the dried mud and to get some since of its shape. Squatting down Chris laid the coat aside and reached for the saddlebags. His breath came faster as his hand paused over the buckle. Then almost savagely he tore the flap open and dumped the contents. Out fell an assortment of trail gear, a spyglass and an old beat up harmonica.

Taking in a ragged breath Chris picked up the harmonica and squeezing it in his hand he shut his eyes whispering "Vin…"

Josiah took a step forward "Chris….I…."

"Don’t Josiah. Don’t say a word." Chris stood looking down the canyon, "He ain’t dead. I’d know it if he were. He’s out there, somewhere. Peso survived. Vin did too. We just have to find him."

Turning his head Chris stared into Josiah’s eyes he said again. "He ain’t dead. I’d know if he was." Clinching the harmonica and spyglass Chris picked up the coat and turned to the horses. He walked stiff legged and straight backed his face devoid of emotion. Mounting he turned Pony toward Josiah. "Let’s ride," and kicking Pony he started down the edge of the slide looking for any sign of Vin having walked away from the disaster.

They rode in silence each looking at the ground searching for a clue anything that might tell them where to go next. It wasn’t long before they found something. Lodged against the roots of a grease wood bush were large pieces of cloth, tan cloth and blue. Chris dismounted and reached under pulling out the tattered fabric. Holding it he looked up at Josiah. The cloth was worn and stained with what looked like blood but along the edge of one piece it looked as if it had been cut. They looked around for more, but nature had done its job and there were few signs to be found. Some half burned sticks, more blood stained cloth and to one side deep ruts of what looked like a travois, the ruts deeper as they went north and away from the slide.

Chris mounted and started following the ruts. He absently rubbed his shoulder as he rode. Again Josiah chose to be silent. **Lord, let this be a sign. Let us find our lost Brother. Keep him safe Lord, he’s a good man and if we loose one we well surely loose a second brother too.**

Vin grinned down at the mouse nest he and the boys had uncovered. They spent the morning gathering pinion nuts and accidentally uncovered the nest full of small hairless mice. Chewing on his lip he looked at the boys. "You know, I bet Dove would like some help filling her basket." He looked hard at the boys raising an eyebrow.

Puzzled at first then smiling the boys scooped up the tiny mice and raced back to the camp. Looking around they found the small pouch that Dove kept pieces of flint in. Finding it they put the hairless babies in it and went back to help Vin bring in the nuts they had gathered.

Vin hobbled behind the picture of innocence. He sat down off to the side where he had a good view of the camp.

Dove seeing her little brothers in camp before a meal was ready was curious as to why. Shrugging she went over to her things and picking up her pouch she reached in. Feeling the unexpected squirmy warm something she let out a frightened squeal dropping the pouch and backing away quickly.

Ferret and Wind unable to keep quite giggled and then laughed out loud until an angry Dove started chasing them with a stick. They turned and ran past Vin. Dove stopped looking down.

"Cricket?"

"Dove?"

"It seems my brothers have developed a mischievous nature lately."

"Really?"

"Umm, yes." Dove raised an eyebrow, smiled slightly. "I must fix the meal." She turned and walked away missing the twinkle in Vin’s eyes.

Dove watched her brothers and Cricket out of the corner of her eye. She’d get them back for the trick they played. She knew her brothers wouldn’t have thought of such a thing on their own. It had to have been Cricket. Him sitting there so innocent and nice as if he had no idea what was going on. Dove smiled to herself, she knew just how to get back. She stirred the stew that was cooking and prepared to serve her grandfather first. Taking the bowl to him she waited for his nod of approval and then went back to the fire and filled a bowl for Cricket. In her hand, hidden she had some dried chili pepper that she stirred into the bowl as she took it over to Cricket. She handed it to him and went back to the fire and repeated the little addition for each of her brothers.

Vin took a bit of the stew and after a couple of chews his mouth was on fire. He looked at Grandfather who was peacefully eating and didn’t seem to notice any fire. Swallowing, he blew out threw his open mouth and looked for some relief. Finding none he took another bite hoping the heat would be less. It wasn’t, he was on fire and grabbing the water he poured it down but instead of quenching the fire it just seemed to spread.

The two little boys were faring no better; they were trying to hide the fire they had but were less successful then Vin. Grandfather noticed the strange antics of the boys and asked. "Is there something wrong?"

Vin cleared his throat as best he could, "No Grandfather. Dove’s stew is just very warm tonight."

The old man grunted, "It taste fine, as it always does. Dove is a fine cook, just like her mother."

Dove smiled sweetly, "Thank you Grandfather, More?" Her eyes went to Vin and the smile took on a decidedly wicked gleam. "Cricket? Would you like more?" She raised an eyebrow daring him to do or say anything.

"Uh, no, thank you Dove. This is just fine." And since he’d said it was fine he was forced to eat every drop. Breathing fire in and out he promised himself not to ever play a trick on Dove again. Or at least not one she’d figure was from him.

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Josiah watched under half closed eyes as Chris morosely tossed small sticks into the fire. Thankful there was no bottle available and no town near by. Chris had been silent all day answering Josiah’s questions with grunts or not at all. He’d once tried to talk about Vin and had received a scalding glare for his efforts. Half afraid that if he pushed too far Chris would truly shoot him he got quieter as the day wore on. And now it was late in the evening and still not a word. Sighing Josiah took his life in his hands, "Chris, I need to work on your shoulder."

"Leave it." Chris growled.

"Can’t. I promised Nathan I’d work on it every night. You don’t want Nathan mad at me do you Brother."

Chris tried glaring at Josiah then in defeat sighed and turned around. "Go ahead, get it over with."

Josiah thanking God silently started the series of exercises Nathan had asked him to do. Chris enduring them silently barely able to sit still while Josiah worked the sore muscles.

When he was finished Chris got up and spreading his blankets out he lay down. Signing his hand went to the pocket that held the harmonica. Taking it out he clinched it thumb rubbing gently over the worn engraved side. His mind reeled he couldn’t form a plan or a thought. All he could see when he closed his eyes was Vin buried under mud and rocks, pleading for help. He was so tired, but he couldn’t sleep and when he did finally fall asleep he was plagued by dreams. He pretended he was asleep so Josiah would give up watching him.

While he was waiting for the telltale snore Chris drifted off.

******** He was lost, walking in dense undergrowth. The air was thick with wet fog and little light filtered through. He was searching for something but didn’t know where to turn. Which way to go, he was lost. There was a noise just ahead of him. Straining to see what it was he called out. "Hello. Vin?"

The warrior turned his head and looked straight at Chris with sky blue eyes. The gunslinger gasped.******

Grunting Chris rolled over onto his bad shoulder and instantly sat up regretting the quick movement. "Damn that hurt." Holding his arm he slowly rotated the shoulder trying to ease the cramp. "Damn Nathan, for being right. If he didn’t exercise the shoulder it stiffened and then he couldn’t move it." Chris rotated the shoulder again fighting the pain. Josiah had given him a good workout and now he was paying for it.