Rating: Pg 13
Warning:  None really, just the usual. Smarm,  Angst, all the good stuff.
Disclaimer:  I don’t own, nor do I expect to make any money from using, the characters of  The
Magnificent Seven. This is just an excercise in fun! And a cheap birthday present! (Just Joking
Maggs)
Second Disclaimer:  I don’t own the character Jonathan Larabee. He belongs to Maggie Smith
but I had complete permission from the author. I sort of begged her to let me play in her universe.
She always did like to hog the good toys;-). Plus, she knows better than to try and sue me.
Author’s Note:  This is a birthday story to my writing partner and bestfriend Maggie!!
Her B-day was Feb. 14th (better late than never). Really, I wish her all the happiness one person
can have!  I asked her what she wanted and since I couldn’t exactly kidnap Eric Close or clone an
exact replica , I promised her great Vin and Chris h/c and smarm. ** You will need to have read
her story “Too Many Memories” before tackling this one.  It is the first in the LOST LEGACY
series and this one won’t make much since without it.

************************************************

In the many wars among men,  the blood of innocents often pay the price for the
victors’spoils....

************************************************

Chris Larabee eyed the hand of cards of he was holding and then chanced a glance at the other
men sitting around the table.  Buck Wilmington had a look of extreme consternation plastered on
his expressive face, as if his next move might some how change the fate of the world, and Josiah
Sanchez seemed to have his eyes closed in a moment of silent prayer.

Nathan was relaxed as usual and Ezra, well Ezra was just being Ezra. He had a smug look on his
face as if he were the cat who had just swallowed the proverbial canary.It was a look Chris had
seen before.

So, being a man who had always depended on his talent of reading others to keep him alive,
Larabee folded and tossed his cards in the center of the table.

“I’m out,” the gunslinger smiled, sliding his chair back and standing up.

“Why, Mr. Larabee, things are just beginning to get interesting,” the gambler drawled, nodding
toward the pot which already held a large portion of Chris’s money.

“I think I’ll pass on your version of interesting, Ezra.”

“Me too,” Nathan agreed, lying his hand face down in front of him. “I’d much rather things stay
boring and hold on to a little bit of my money in the process.”

“Where is your sense of adventure Doctor Jackson?” Ezra smiled and then turned to where Buck
still sat pondering his cards. “ And how about you, my good sir? Are you also going to sit this
dance out?”

“And miss the chance to step on your toes, Ezra,” Buck gruffed. “I’m not quittin’ til the music
stops.”

“Suit yourself, my friend. As long as you realize I do insist on leading.”

Chris laughed at the less than tactful reply from Wilmington ,as Ezra made a dramatic display of
laying his full house on the table. With a shake of his head,and a sympathetic pat to Buck's
shoulder, the gunslinger made his way to the bar and motioned Inez for a drink. Nathan and
Josiah pulled stools up next to the one he had occupied and they were soon joined by the none to
happy Wilmington.

“I swear that man is cheating me. I feel it in my bones,” Buck snorted as he picked up the drink
Inez had just filled for Larabee and downed it in one swig.

“You’ve been saying that for over a year now, Buck,” Nathan pointed out with a smile. “But  it
still hasn’t stopped you from contruibuting to the Ezra Standish fund for wayward gamblers.”

“And believe me , gentlemen, his generous gratuities are greatly appreciated.” Ezra steppd
behind the bar and retrieved his special decanter of brandy. With a wink in Buck’s direction he
poured two glasses and handed one to the other man. “For your kind donation, Mr. Wilmington.”

“You’re welcome,”Buck grunted sarcastically, but didn’t refuse the offered livation.

“Now don’t be a poor loser, Buck,”Nathan couldn’t help goading his friend. “Ain’t you the one
always tellin’ J.D. to stay on the porch if he can’t play with the big dogs.”

Buck glared at the healer and opened his mouth to reply when Josiah wisely interrupted.

“Speaking of Mr. Dunne, when are he and our other lost pup going to return to the den?”
Sanchez cast an expectant glance in Chris’s direction. If the truth be known, the holy man had
begun to find it much too quiet around town without the least of their entourage.

Larabee almost smiled as he conjured up the disgusted look that would have assuredly crossed
Vin Tanner’s face at being referred to in such a manner. The younger man made it quite clear
that, although he sometimes treated J.D. like a kid, he in no way would endure such treatment
himself. “I’m guessing soon. I don’t think Vin will be finding his usual peace and quiet on this
hunting trip; not with the kid along.”

“The sooner the better,” Buck spoke up. “It’s kind of boring around here without J.D. to pester.”

“If you’re missing young Mr. Dunne, I can always entertain you with another game of chance,”
Ezra opted, innocently.

Buck quickly denied his unintended confession, “I don’t miss the boy. There’s just not been
much excitement lately and I’m beginning to hope for some kind of distraction .”

“Careful what you wish for,” Nathan said with a shake of his head. “My pa always said a man
was borrowing trouble when he talked like that.”

As if someone had overheard Buck’s wish, a large lanky man, dressed all in black,  chose this
moment to emerge breathlessly through the batwing doors of the saloon.

“There you are,” the tall distinguished figure cast an imposing shadow on the five younger men
at the bar. “Do you boys keep shop here, or what?”

“Would you lookee’ what the cat drug in ?” Buck Wilmington replied , a renewed enthusiasm in
his voice. “If it ain’t Jonathan Larabee as I live and breath.”

“Boys.” Jon nodded a quick greeting to the others before coming to stand beside of Chris; who
had quickly turned back to his drink after realizing the  unexpected patron was his father.

“Where’s your brother?” Jonathan asked , casting a glance around the rest of the nearly empty
saloon.

The younger Larabee picked up his glass and shrugged, still not facing his father. “Like you
care?”

“Damn it, Christopher,” Jonathan sighed, pulling off his hat and running a hand through his salt
and peppered hair. “I ain’t got time for none of your attitude,son.”

Chris returned the whiskey to the bar and finally met the other man’s anxious gaze. “Just like you
haven’t had time to make it back to town since your little revelation over six months ago.”

“Maybe we should leave these two gentlemen to their discussion,” Josiah tactfully suggested,
standing up and motioning for the others to follow his lead.

“No,” Jon stopped him with an almost desperate look. “I need to talk with all of you.”

Sanchez looked unsure but with a nod from Chris he reclaimed his stool.

“What’s wrong, Jon?” Buck asked, sincere concern in his voice. The man may have not handled
the situation with Vin very well, but Wilmington still considered him a respected friend. A friend
who appeared to need their help.

“First tell me where Vin is.”

Chris eyed the man before him, reading every line of the stoic, tanned face and ever twitch of the
familiar blue eyes.  Finally, he realized that Jonathan was displaying something he had rarely
witnessed.

His father was afraid.

“He’s gone hunting with J.D.”

“Are you sure?” Jon let out an audible sigh of relief, but still looked rattled.

“I make it a habbit of keeping in touch with him,” Chris replied cooly, still not willing to give up
the anger that he'd been harboring for the last few months. “That means I usually know where he
is. You should try it yourself sometime.”

“Thank God,” the older man slightly dropped his head and whispered more to himself than the
anyone in particular. “I thought he’d beat me here.”

“Who?” Chris asked, not missing the last statement, which for some reason caused a sudden
clenching in his gut.

“How long has he been gone?” Jonathan asked, as if he hadn’t heard his son’s question.

“Two days,” Buck was the one to answer, his mouth suddenly dry. Something was terribly
wrong, if the great Jonathan Larabee was this shaken up. And in the back of his mind, a little
voice shouted that if J.D. and Vin weren't already buried up to their necks in it, odds
were, they would be.

“What exactly is going on, Jon?” Chris stood up now so he nearly matched heights with his
father.

The older man held his stare for a moment and then let his gaze fall on the other men. “Maybe
we should get a table.”

*******************************************************

Vin awoke slowly.  He knew he had to pull himself from the dark abyss he had fallen into, but
every muscle seemed to scream in protest at his accent into the land of the conscious.

But mere stubornness and a desire to quiet the nagging sensation that he was in some sort of
trouble won out; and he forced opened his eyes to recieve a somewhat blurry, distorted view of
reality.

“Miss Cora, he’s awake,” a high-pitched voice shouted and Vin winced as the pounding in his
head suddenly increased.

The tracker squinted , willing his fuzzy vision to clear enough to make out the blurry figure
leaning over him. “J.D.?”

“Nope,” came the excited reply. “My name’s Matthew.”

Slowly, a small cherub-like face came into focus and Vin found him self staring into
two,impossibly large blue eyes. Dark curls framed the face of a young boy no older than Billy
Travis as he peered curiously at the bounty hunter.

“Are you here to help us, Mister?”

“Where is here?” Vin asked pushing himself up to his knees.

“We’re not quite sure of our exact location.”

The tracker turned his head a little too quickly at the sound of a woman’s voice and nearly found
himself back face-first on the dirt floor.

“Easy there,”the stranger reached out to steady the younger man. “Maybe you should try sitting a
while.”

Vin took a deep breath and declined her suggestion with a very slight shake of his head, making
his way to his feet this time.

The woman sighed and pushed at a few silver strands of hair that had escaped her tightly twisted
bun. “Suit yourself, young man.”

She rubbed her weathered hands on a pale blue apron she was wearing and for the first time Vin
realized he smelled food cooking. “My name is Cora. Mrs. Cora Eckland.”

Tanner took her offered hand and was surprised at the petite woman’s grip.

“I’m Vin Tanner,” the tracker told her and would have tipped his hat, in usual manner, but
quickly realized he wasn’t wearing his.

She forced a weary smile, “Under different circumstances, I would say it was nice to meet you,
Mr. Tanner.”

Vin looked around at the sparse cabin they were in and then back at Cora, “What exactly is our
circustance?”

“We’re being held prisoner,” the little boy proclaimed proudly, stepping around Ms. Eckland’s
skirt tale. “Just like Six-gun Sammy at the Last Stand in Laredo.”

Cora placed a palm atop the child’s unruly curls. “Matthew has quite a love for stories; but I fear
he’s quite correct about the prisoner part.”

Stories.

A sudden thought struck Vin and he let his eyes roam the length of the small one-roomed
dwelling. “I had a friend with me,” he spoke as bits and pieces of his scattered memory started to
come together. “Have you seen him?”

Panick seized the bounty hunter as Cora quietly shook her head no.

“They brought you in alone,” she finally said, walking the short distance back to the fire place.
“That was around dawn this morning.”

The tracker searched his surroundings for a window, to judge the time it was at the present, but
found the only apparent opening boarded up.

His thoughts went again to J.D. and he tried to recall exactly how he had ended up in this
predicament and where in the hell that left his young friend.

The kid had to be alright. He had to be.

But the last thing Vin remembered was making camp at Laurel Spring where he had sent J.D.
after some firewood, while he got dinner started.

After that, his mind drew a complete blank.

“You slept forever,” Matthew stated, startling Vin from his reverie. “I was afraid you had eaten a
poisoned apple or somethin'.”

Cora stirred the pot simmering over the open flame before looking back at the tracker. “Mati’s
forever would be more like four or so hours,” she supplied. “I’m guessing they clubbed you a
good one, same as they did Mr. Darcy.”

“Mr. Darcy?” Vin inquired, the mystery growing even more perplexing by the minute.

“Yeah,” the little boy butted in. “He came yesterday. He’s not very nice and he’s sort of a big old
chicken but...”

“Matthew!” Cora scolded in a grandmother fashion. “I told you that Mr. Darcy was your elder
and despite what flaws you find, should be shown respect as such.”

Matti sighed, “Sorry, Miss Cora,” blue eyes looked up at Vin, “But he’s a bigger crybaby than
my little brother.”

The bounty hunter rubbed at his throbbing temples and decided he’d better have a seat like Ms.
Eckland had suggested. “Where’s this Darcy now?”

Cora appeared in front of the tracker and handed him a cold, wet cloth, motioning for him to
place it on the back of his neck. “Mr. Darcy decided he’d had enough of our company,” the old
woman replied, pulling a small wooden chair out for Vin. “While our captors had busied
themselves with you, Philip decided to ‘make a break for it’, as you young ones say.”

 “He shot out of here faster than a jack rabbit with a tail full of buckshot.” Matthew giggled, but
quickly quieted under Cora’s reprimanding glare.

“Did he get away?” Any chance at rescue was better than none, even if this Philip Darcy was as
bad as Mathew said.

Mrs. Eckland shook her head, “If he did, he won’t get far. Those men who took us, they aren’t
new to this sort of mischief. I’ve seen their kind before.”

Her soft brown eyes met Vin’s blue ones. “They’re quite experienced in the art of gun play, not
un-like yourself, Mr. Tanner.”

“’Cept, they ain’t nice as you, Mr.Vin,” Mathew placed a small, trusting hand on Tanner’s knee.
“They hurt my Ma when they took me, and Mr. Read, he yells at Miss Cora when she doesn’t do
just as he says.”

Vin swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He didn’t want to imagine what these men had
done to J.D. if they were low enough to harm a woman infront of her small child.

“Is that his name? The man who’s behind this? Reade?” Vin pulled his eyes from Mathew and
looked back up at Cora.

The woman nodded and instinctively pulled Mathew closer to her, as if the very mention of the
man’s name could inflict harm to the boy, “ We know him as Warren Reade, although until four
days ago, I’d never heard of him.”

Vin searched the furthest reaches of his memory for any connection he may have unknowingly
made to someone by that name, but found no clue.

“Do you know him, Mr. Vin?” Matthew asked with a slight frown.

“Fraid not, Matthew,” Tanner sighed, reaching out to ruffle the little boy’s hair. “And from the
sounds of it, I don’t want to.”

“Trust me, Mr. Tanner,” Cora said quietly, a faraway look in her eye. A look that perhaps told
Vin a little more than he wanted to know.  “I wish I had never laid eyes on the devil.”

************************************************

Jonathan Larabee took a seat at the furthest table in the back of the saloon. Although the place
was mostly empty, he’d seen enough over the last few days to realize that nothing should be
taken for granted. Eyes and ears of the enemy could be anywhere.

The older man waited for the others to have seat , before meeting Chris’s expectant gaze. “If I’d
known that things would have gone this far, I would have sent a telegram. I really didn’t think
Reades would make good on his threats.”

“Reades?” Buck asked, pushing his hat further back on his head, and resting his elbows on the
table.

Jon nodded, “Warren Reades. He’s a convicted murderer out of Texas. In fact, he was just
released from prison not more than a month ago.”

“And what exactly does this have to do with you?” Chris asked, puzzled that his father would
even know such a man.

“ I use to ride with him and four others.” The oldest Larabee eyed his son, easily reading the
disguised look of surprise. “It was before I met your Ma, not too long after my folks had passed
on.”

Jonathan looked from Chris to Buck, “ I was around eighteen, a lot like that young J.D of yours.,
except with a meaner streak.”  Larabee sighed wearily as if he were suddenly beginning to feel
his age creeping up on him. “ The six of us hired out as protection for cattle drives. Back then the
ranchers had a lot of problems with not only bandits, but Indians as well and we earned
quite a reputation for being good at our job.”  A slight smile touched the older man’s face, “Not
too unlike the reputation you boys have built for yourselves.”

“If you were partners with this Reades, then why do you think he’d want to cause you any
harm?” Nathan Jackson asked. The thought of any of his friends ever causing him pain
intentionally, or vice versa, was unimaginable.

Jon sighed,  “When I said our reputation was similar to yours, I didn't mean we were exactly like
you all, Mr. Jackson. Warren was good at what he did and I admired that, but he wasn’t a good
man. I was young and ready to make a name for myself when my two old friends talked me into
riding with Reades. Working with him seemed the easiest way to get what I thought I wanted,
but....”

“But the easiest path isn’t always the purest,” Josiah observed in his usual reflective tone.

Jon nodded, “ Amen to that. It didn’t take me or the others too long to realize how ‘unpure’ our
leader was.”

“How come this is the first I ever heard of you riding with a band of hired guns?” Chris shifted in
his seat and leaned back to get a better view of the man who seemed to be making a habit of
surprising him with skeletons from a closet Chris didn’t even know existed.

“Some things we done, I wasn’t exactly proud of, son, and it wasn’t somethin’ your Ma wanted
me talking about. She was afraid it’d give you crazy notions to try that kind of lifestyle for
yourself.” Jonathan let a mischievous smile play across his lips.  “I told her you never would
stay on the ranch for long, no matter what I had to say.”

“You still haven’t answered Nathan’s question,” Chris pointed out, not willing to be led astray by
his father’s reminiscing.  “ Why do you think this Reades is up to no good?” Chris leaned close
to the oldest Larabee again, “And what does it have to do with Vin?”

The worried expression from before returned to Jonathan’s face, making him look much older
than Chris could remember, “Because I was the one that put him in jail. Me and the others, that
is.”

“You  betrayed one of your own associates?” Ezra queried, shooting Chris an amused look before
pouring himself another drink. After all, it wasn’t every day a Larabee confessed to being human.

“I’m sure he had a good reason to,” Buck jumped in to defend the other gunslinger, giving the
gambler a reprimanding glare.

Ezra smiled, finding it quite amusing just how much that Wilmington sounded like J.D. at that
moment. The youngest of their entourage would challenge anyone who dared speak against Chris
Larabee and it seemed that Buck felt the same way about the eldest Larabee.

But then again, who was the gambler to poke fun. If the truth be known he held as much respect
for Chris as the kid did and since, he was a true believer in the vicinity of the proverbial apple
and it’s descent from the family tree, Jon's morals were not something he'd likely question. “I
was merely making a comment. I , in no way, meant to be discourteous, sir.”

“It’s fine, Ezra,” Jonathan assured the gambler. “I did turn Warren in. But only after he left me
no choice.”

“What’d he do?” Buck asked, needing to understand his friends motives.

“He tried to murder twenty people, including myself and our other three partners.” Jon took the
bottle of whiskey from the center of the table and poured himself a glass before continuing his
explanation. The others waited in silence, as if they somehow understood the pain
of picking at old wounds.

“ We’d been ridin’ together not more‘an a year when we got asked to do a big job up from
Mexico. Work had been slow and although it was a larger project than we had undertook before,
Warren said we should do it. Said it would be a piece of cake; and besides, we needed the
money.”

The oldest Larabee picked up his shot and killed it , trying to wash away the bad taste that had
suddenly sprung to his mouth. “I should’ve known Warren was up to something. He hated
Mexico and he’d turned down better jobs before because of it. But he was bound and determined
to go on this particular one. So, the others and I went along with him."

"Frank Eckland and Matthis Quinn had grown up not far from where I did. I don’t know where or
how they hooked up with Warren but they were older and I looked up to them. We’d been friends
for years so I probably  wouldn’t have gone against their judgment even if I had suspected
Reades had other intentions than what he said. Our other partner ,Jake Darcy, well, he was a
quiet man by nature. Didn’t care much for disagreeing if he could avoid it, especially with
Warren."

"If the truth be told, we all sort of idolized Reades. He was fast with a gun and even faster with
his mouth. There wasn’t many he couldn’t charm, and if he couldn’t charm them, he’d ‘convince’
them to see things his way by other means. No matter what, the man always got what he wanted.
And to an eighteen year old kid who'd spent his whole life on a farm, doing exactly what his 'pa'
had wanted him to do, that was something to respect.”

“But this time Reades wanted more money than he was making in the protection business?”
Chris asked, trying to keep the impatience from his voice. He’d never been one to rush his father,
the man could make even the most trivial of matters seem as interesting as one of J.D.’s
damn dime store novels, but right now the gunslinger was more interested in the bare facts. He
was interested in any possibility that may place his friends or family in danger. He wanted to
know if he should be as concerned as his father with Vin's whereabouts.

“He wanted a lot more. More than we could have made in ten years of working drives.” Jon
paused and run a hand through his hair, “ And he planned on getting it by leading the cattle drive
into an ambush, then taking the cattle on into the  market in Durango, himself.”

“I suppose the ambush consisted of enough men to take care of the lot of you and help him ride
the herd the last leg of the journey?” Josiah asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms
over his large chest. The evil that men could do for money still amazed him.

“ He was prepared alright. He’d hired a couple of two-bit gunmen from town, promising them a
piece of the pie once the job was complete. He also conned a band of Indians into helping him. I
still don’t know what he bargained to them.”

“Mr. Reades sounds like some questionable acquaintances I have come across in my line of
expertise,” Ezra commented dryly.

“Acquaintances?” Buck snorted. “He sounds like he could be a member of your family?”

The gambler raised one eyebrow, “Considering your lavish donation to my establishment this
evening, Mr. Wilmington, I will allow that small slight to my character to pass without further
denunciation.”

Nathan gave Buck and Ezra both a reproachful frown before turning dark, inquisitive eyes on
Jon. “What happened? How did you and the others escape?”

“Some of the others didn’t,” Larabee replied, his blue eyes turning a familiar, frosty shade. “Six
men died that day and several others bare the scars of Warren’s travesty even now.”

“But Reades’ plan didn’t work like he’d hoped?” Chris was unwillingly being drawn into the
drama and to his knowledge,  Vin was the only other person that could rope him so easily into a
tale.

“No, it didn’t. Warren chanced sneaking out of camp the night before the ambush was to happen.
He was going to finalize plans with the man he’d left in charge, an old Indian called Sevastion."

" Lucky for us, Frank heard him go out and decided to follow him. He tailed him to the meeting
spot and overheard the whole plan.  Just before dawn, he rode back into our camp, like Paul
Revere on his midnight ride, to warn us about what was goin' to happen.”

“Unfortunately, Reades had spotted him and managed to shoot him twice before Frank could get
away. But, even wounded,  the old bastard still made it back ahead of Warren. We atleast had a
few minutes to prepare for the attack.”

“The trail foreman and most of his men were fairly decent shots, but the men Warren had hired
were ruthless and better prepared for a fight."

"How did you all defeat 'em?" Nathan asked, recalling a few times when he and the seven had
been in familiar circumstances.

"Well, for one, we were damn luck. Two, we out-numbered the bastards, and thanks to Frank
they had lost the surprise advantage they had been banking on. As it was, most of Warren’s men
were killed and six of the cattle hands lost their lives.”

Jonathan rubbed at his weary eyes, as if the sight still hung behind his half-closed lids like a dark
veil waiting to fall. “Six young men ,not much older than I was at the time, died for a reason they
didn’t even have a chance to understand.” The older man’s voice had taken on a bitter quality
Chris had heard in his own speech many times since his wife and son’s murder.  " Six kids, who
were needlessly wiped out just so Warren Reades could have his damn fortune.”

“So what happened to Reades?” Chris asked his father, hoping to lure the man back from the
dark place he was revisiting. He'd not seen him so shaken since coming to find Vin in Four
Corners earlier that year, and it wasn't an experience the gunslinger relished reliving.

Jon looked up at his oldest son, “That’s the really sad part, you see. Warren  not only had run out
on us, he ran out on his little band of pathetic outlaws too. Left them to die where they stood,
while he made his getaway.”

“A traitor and a coward,” Ezra spoke up. “I’m beginning to find Mr. Wilmington’s remark more
and more offensive by the moment.”

“Did you and your other partners go after him?” Nathan asked, unwilling to let the gambler’s
interruption break the spell of the story.

Jon nodded, “After Frank was feelin’ up to it, and after we finished the drive, finding Warren
became our obsession. The four of us believed that we somehow owed it to everyone involved to
bring Reades to justice. Hell, maybe we felt responsible. Besides, we thought we
knew Warren better than most.”

“But it’s hard to know the true color of a chameleon?” Josiah interjected, seeing the warring
emotions of guilt and self-blame raging across the eldest Larabee’s face.

Larabee laughed without humor, “Apparently. Considering Warren had a wife and a son and a
whole ‘nother life in Abilene we knew nothing about, I’d say he was pretty good at shading the
truth.”

“So you did catch up to him?” Chris asked, not taking his eyes off the man he was beginning to
see in a whole nother light.

“We caught up to him nearly a month later. And we brought him back to to Fayemore to stand
trial.”

There was something in the words that Jon Larabee didn’t say that peaked Josiah’s interest. He’d
heard men talk around the worse parts of a confession before, but Chris and Vin’s father didn’t
seem the type to pull any punches. “And for this, you are worried Reades would want to hurt
your family? I admit, prison is a terrible thing, but his betrayal of you seemed
much worse.”

Jon cleared his throat and started for the whiskey bottle again when Chris’s hand on his stopped
him, “What happened in Abilene?”

Crystal blue eyes met the hard sapphire gaze, “His wife and son were killed.”

Chris let his father go and swallowed back the knot that had suddenly leaped into his throat, “By
you and the others?”

“No. God no, Christopher,” Jonathan stood up, knocking the chair he was sitting in over in the
process. The thought that one of his sons would even think him capable of such a deed pained
him to the very core of his being. “ It was an accident. A terrible and tragic accident.  One that
was Warren’s fault more than ours.”

“But I take it Mr. Reades did not share your perception of the appalling event?” Ezra’s voice
wasn’t mocking, but sympathetic.

“ You could say that. He swore he’d make us all pay for the spilled blood of his family. He told
me at the trial that the others and I would feel the agony that he had.”

“Men say a lot of things when they’re angry, Jonathan,” Josiah pointed out. “Prison does strange
things to a man, makes him forget grudges from the past. Sometimes, it even turns him into a
different person altogether.”

“Well if anything, prison made Warren Reades more of a monster than he was.” Jon stopped his
pacing in front of the table and let his eyes rest on the others. "What took place five days ago
assured me of that."

"What happened five days ago?" Chris watched his father  step away from the table, as if trying
to distance himself from the truth he couldn't escape.

 “He kidnapped Frank Eckland’s wife right out of their house and then took Quinn's six year-old
grandson the very next day.”

“And you're sure it was Reades?” Buck asked, not liking where the tale was leading.

“He left a calling card at each scene. A link of chain.”

“I suppose that’s significant?” Nathan queried.

Jon nodded and slowly come to sit back down. “When the guards were taking him away, Reades
was rambling some kind of nonsense to me and the others about our sins being worn like chains
around our heart. He said they’d be the weight that would drown us is in our misery.”

"The look in Warren's eyes  as he was drug out of that court scared the hell out of me. Darcy and
Matt told me he was just blowing smoke, but Frank took his words to heart. I could tell. He must
have, because he remembered the significance of the chain and sent a wire to the prison in
Whichika where Reades served his time. When they told him Warren had been released, he
contacted me. When I arrived, he’d already received a telegram from Matthis, telling him about
his grandson.”

“So you figured you might be next on Reade’s list of revenge?”

Jon looked at his son, “I can’t explain it; but I just had a feeling you and your brother were in
danger. I couldn’t risk my intuition being right.”

“But not many people know about your connection to Vin,” Buck pointed out.

“That’s true. But a couple of weeks ago, my ranch was broken into. I didn’t think much of it,
nothing was taken, so I figured it was some squatters or vagrants looking for food.” Jon sighed,
“A chest where I keep a lot of my papers, journals, and family pictures and such had been
opened, but everything was still intact.”

“You think it could have been Reades?” Josiah sat forward, unable to stop the grim setting that
was beginning to unfold before them.

“Or someone who was working for him,” the oldest Larabee confirmed. “I had a bible with Chris
and Vin’s name in it . There were also a couple of letters Vin’s mother had penned me, along
with answers to inquiries Chris's mother and I had made to several orphanages after learning
about Emma’s death. There was even an article from Miss Travis’s paper.”

Jonathan paused and let his eyes fall on his son, “It mentioned both of you and Vin by name. ”

“Damn,” Chris swore, sensing a terrible feeling of dread descending upon him. A cruel little
voice taunted from somewhere deep inside, that Vin and J.D. weren’t on some enjoyable hunting
trip anymore, but were perhaps the pray in Warren Reades vendetta quest.

“Now, there’s no need to get all in an uproar, Chris,” Buck soothed, in his best charm-filled
voice. “If’an old Reades knows anything about you two, he knows about the Seven  and it ain’t
likely he’d be so stupid as to come up against us.”

Chris met his friends hopeful gaze, “’Less he could catch one or two of us out by ourselves.”

Buck started to reply; wanted to offer some kind of counter argument to make what his partner
was saying less plausible, but all thoughts of that were vanquished by another unexpected
entrance into the saloon.

“Chris!” Mary Travis burst through the batwing doors like a woman on a mission. “You better
come quick.”

Larabee quickly stood, taking in the distressed condition of the journalist. The woman wasn’t
easily shaken and that worried him. “What’s goin’ on Mary?”

Miss Travis come to an abrupt halt at their table, and took a second to regain her composure.
“It’s J.D. One of the ranchers just brought him into town.” Her eyes skirted the others , then came
to rest on Buck. “He’s been hurt.”

*******************************************************

It hadn’t been hard for Matthew to talk Vin into telling him a story.

After Miss Eckland had made them both eat a bowl of soup, which did seem to ease the nausea
assaulting the tracker some, the small boy had climbed onto the bounty hunter’s knee and asked
with a look that would have easily melted the most frigid mountain top.  And, since Tanner had
already checked for any possible means of escape and found them non-existent, considering there
were three armed men at the door and the window was boarded up, he wasn’t hard to convince.
Besides, he needed something to take his mind off the impossible situation at hand and to keep
his thoughts from dwelling on the fact that he was caged like some kind of animal.

Vin didn’t understand why the little boy had instantly taken to him or trusted him so, but Josiah
had once said that kids and animals could judge a man’s character from the get go.  Of course,
kids loved Ezra Standish too, so Tanner wasn’t sure to if he should be flattered by Matt’s
confidence or worried.

No matter, the little boy was quite the talker and his enthusiasm was contagious, so Vin had felt
compelled to do what little he could to make Matthew as content as possible, in light of their
situation.  It also hadn’t hurt that Matt reminded him of a much younger version of J.D. Dunne.

J.D.

If only he knew what had become of the younger man. If only he knew why and the hell any of
this was happening. There was one thing he was certain of though. The tracker was sure he’d
somehow let his friend down, failed at keeping him safe; so being able to tuck an arm around
Matt’s small shoulders and regale him with a dazzling tale of Bat Masterson’s exploits was not
only a comfort to the little boy, but to Vin as well.

The bounty hunter tried to remember every story J.D. had insisted on sharing with him during
their many times together and Matty had been quite taken by the legendary sheriff’s heroics, but
in the end, exhaustion had won out and the small child had drifted to sleep in Tanners lap.

“He’s a charmer, isn’t he?” Cora’s soft voice brought the tracker’s eyes up to meet hers.

With a sad smile the woman bent down and laid a hand on the boys head, “It is a terrible thing
that he must suffer through this type of malice.”

“But you have no idea why he is here?” Vin kept his voice low, as he watched Cora’s face go
from a look of sadness to one of total devastation.

“I have no idea, Mr. Tanner. I swear to you, I have no idea,” she sniffed, trying hard to with hold
the brave front she’d been keeping for Matthew’s sake. “I wasn’t told why I was taken, and the
next day when Matty was brought into the wagon that we were traveling in, I was only told to
make sure he behaved. Before then, I had never laid eyes on the sweet child. ”

“It’s alright, Miss Eckland. I believe you.” Vin slowly stood up and gently carried the still
sleeping child to one of the two bunk beds that lined the far wall of the sparse cabin.
 
After laying Matt down and covering him with a blanket, the tracker turned back to Cora. “And
you said that this Philip Darcy didn’t know anything either?”

Miss Eckland shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with her apron, “Mr. Darcy was brought
here by five other men that I hadn’t saw before. He said he was from Cadence, a city nearly three
days ride from where my home is. I have no idea what kind of connection I could possibly have
with him or Matthew.”

Cora wasn’t the only one puzzled. If she felt somewhat out of sorts with a kid and a city fella,
then he was definitely a duck out of water. “Can you recall if this Reades may have said
something to you, something that may have been some kind of clue as to what he was planning.”

The small crack in Miss Eckland’s tough exterior was beginning to splinter and spread , making
Vin regret having to probe into whatever the woman had endured since being taken.

But she surprised him, by taking a deep breath and regaining enough of her composure to answer.
“He said the next time my husband, Frank, would see me would..,” she paused, her lower lip
slightly trembling. “He said it would most likely be at my own wake.”

*******************************************************

Buck remained in his seat just long enough for Mary’s words to register. *J.D.* The gunslinger
jumped to his feet and ran out of the saloon with Nathan and the others right behind him.

Chris reached out and stopped Mary as she turned to go also. “Was Vin with him?”

Sympathetic green eyes turned to hold Larabee’s gaze, “Maybe you should come talk with Mr.
Ellison.”

Chris let her go, understanding all too well the pain he saw etched on her kind face. He looked at
his father to find the same grim recognition in the oldest Larabee’s features. Vin was in trouble.
Or worse...

*******************************************************

" J.D.!” Buck started yelling as soon as he saw the buckboard  in front of Nathan’s clinic.  He
could see a slightly familiar figure leaned over a prone body and his heart nearly stopped when he
got close enough to see the ghastly pale face of his bestfriend and the blood-soaked bandage
around his head.

“He’s alive,” a confident voice reassured him as he jumped into the back of the wagon, never
taking his eyes off J.D.’s much too still form.

Buck reached out a touched the kid's cold face, "J.D.? Can you hear me?"

When there was no answer or even stirring from the boy, Buck finally  looked up to find one of
the new ranchers that had came to town a few weeks before staring at him.

Wilmington searched his memory for a name to put with the chiseled face and haunting blue
eyes. He knew J.D. had told him. In fact, the kid and Casey  had gone fishing with the man’s
brother just last week.

“Ellison,” the man supplied , as if he could read the question behind Wilmington’s gaze.

“Jim Ellison,” Buck nodded. “I remember now.” The gunslinger turned his eyes back to J.D. and
then back to the rancher.  “What happened?”

“My brother and I found him  early this morning, right after sun up,  near the hot springs. His
horse and another were tied not far from where we discovered him.”

Nathan was at Wilmington’s side now and gently pushed his way in to get a look at the kid.
“Was he unconscious then?” the healer asked without stopping his quick exam of J.D.

“He’s been out the whole time.” Another voice answered, and Buck was surprised he hadn’t even
noticed the other figure in the wagon. He and Nathan both turned to look at the dark curly-haired
young man who couldn’t have been a day older than J.D. Buck did remember his name. Blair.

“It looks like he took a blow to the temple so we bandaged it to stop the blood flow. He was also
hypothermic.”

“Hypo-what?” Buck asked, a new worry feeling his eyes as he quickly glanced back to his friend.

“His core body temperature had dropped below normal due to being exposed to the cold in an
unconscious state,” the kid explained, tucking a few errant locks of his  long hair behind his ear.

“Huh?” Wilmington asked, still keeping a protective grip on J.D.

“The kid was really cold,”  Nathan supplied. “Hypothermia is a new fancy medical term for being
out in the bad elements to long.”

“My brother reads a lot of books,” Ellison explained. “You’ll have to excuse him, he sometimes
forgets to speak plain English.”

“Well, he must have read the right ones,” Nathan offered, checking the wrap around J.D.’s head.
“He did real good with this dressing.”

“That was Jim,” Blair told the two men. “He was a Captain in the war and we lived with a tribe
of Indians for a while. He picked up a lot of medical practices in both situations.”

“Actually, I get more practice patching him up,” Jim replied, tossing his brother a quick smile.
“He finds  more than enough trouble to keep me on my toes.”

“Sounds familiar.” Buck held the other’s gaze for a moment before turning back to Nathan.
“How is he?”

The healer shook his head, “I don’t think there’s any other injuries besides the one to the side of
his head.”

“Well that’s good, right, Nate?” Buck forced a smile and lay a gentle hand on J.D.’s forehead. “I
mean that’s the toughest part of the kid’s whole body.”

Jackson avoided Wilmington’s stare and instead looked at Ellison and the two exchanged
knowing glances.

“What?” Buck was getting nervous now, and when he got nervous he got angry. “Damn it, Doc,
what aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s not good that J.D. hasn’t woken up yet, Buck.” Nathan’s dark eyes were filled with concern.
“He’s been out better’an five hours that we know of, probably more, depending on when he was
hurt.”

“So?” Wilmington shot back. “It looks like he lost some blood. You’re the one always tellin’ us
when a body loses blood, it tends to need more rest.”

“That’s true, but head injuries are complicated.”

“Complicated!?” Buck growled. “What does that mean?”

It was Jim that answered, “It means that time will be the true judge of your friend’s condition.”

“He could just have a concussion,” the younger Ellison offered, with a sympathetic look in
Buck’s direction. He hadn’t known J.D. or Mr. Wilmington long, but he recognized the worry in
the older man’s eyes. It was a look Jim gave him a lot.  “That means there could be some
swelling around the brain and once it goes down, then, J.D. will wake up.”

“And if it doesn’t go down?” Wilmington felt a heavy weight descending upon his heart at the
very thought of what had sprung from his lips.

“We’ll just have to believe the Lord will take care of that, Brother.” Josiah’s voice brought
Buck’s eyes to the side of the wagon where Ezra and the preacher had gathered. “He’s always
watched out for us in the past.”

Buck didn’t reply but turned back to where his friend lay in front of him. He scanned the youthful
face for any sign of the boy awakening, but found none. If it wasn’t for the bandage covering the
kid’s head, J.D. would have merely looked like he was enjoying a peaceful sleep. Much too
peaceful for Wilmington’s comfort.

“Let Nathan and Josiah get him inside, Buck,” Chris Larabee’s strong voice sounded from beside
Wilmington. The distraught gunslinger hadn’t even realized his friend had arrived until he felt
the reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We’ll worry about the rest later.”

Buck nodded and jumped down from the wagon, helping Josiah ease J.D. out as carefully as
possible.

Chris watched until he was sure the others had everything under control before turning to the tall,
muscular man now standing beside Mary.

“Chris , this is Jim Ellison. I don’t think you two have met, ” the journalist spoke up.

The two men shook hands, “No, but J.D.’s mentioned you.”

“I hope the boy’s alright,” Ellison said sincerely, meeting the gunslinger’s gaze.

“Me too,” Chris replied, not wanting to even imagine any other possibility. “Did you happen to
find anything else where you came across J.D.?” Larabee had already spotted his brother’s horse
tied to the rear of the wagon and his eyes shifted towards the
animal.

Jim followed his gaze and then nodded to Blair who had remained a distance behind him. “Bring
me the rest of the stuff, Chief.”

The younger man went to the front of the buck board and then returned carrying a bed roll and
Vin’s hat and gun.

“Damn,” Jon Larabee swore and reached out to take his son’s belongings before Chris had the
chance. The younger Larabee had all but forgotten about his father being there.

“I believe the horse belongs to Mr. Tanner,” Blair  looked to Chris after handing the items to Jon.
“I’m guessing those do too.”

“There was no sign of him?” Chris didn’t have to answer the younger man’s question. The look
on his face said it all.

“There was evidence of a scuffle and a few fresh blood stains a couple of yards from where we
found J.D.” Jim knew it wasn’t what the other man wanted to hear, but at least it was something.

“Did you happen to find a piece of chain anywhere near the sight,” Jon had moved around Chris
to come face to face with Ellison.

“This is Jon Larabee,” Mary explained , for the other man’s benefit. “He’s Vin’s father.”

“How did you know?” Blair asked, beginning to find the events quite intriguing.

Jim gave him a look that supressed any further commentary before pulling the length of steel
chain from his coat pocket. “It was inside his hat,” he explained, handing the rusted metal to
Chris. “It looks like a piece from an old shackle.”

Larabee took the links from the rancher and let his icy blue eyes rest on his father, “Is this like
the others?”

Jon nodded, “Looks the same as what Frank found at his place.”

Chris let his fingers tighten around the twisted metal until he could feel the roughened flakes of
steel cutting into his palm, before returning his gaze to Ellison.

“Thank you for bringing J.D. and the horses in. We’re not exactly popular with the ranchers.”

Ellison cast a glance around the small town, “Maintaining the law is a tough job. A person can
make a lot of enemies.” He paused a moment and then focused on Chris. “ Besides, I know what
it’s like to lose a brother. If there’s anything else we can do, let me know.”

Chris eyed the clinched jaw of the rancher and noticed the flinch from the younger Ellison at his
brother’s words. He suspected the two had quite a story behind them, and not the kind one could
tell children at bedtime.

“And when J.D. wakes up,” Blair interrupted the gunslinger’s thoughts, “Tell him I expect
another chance at beating his fishing record.”

“I will,” Larabee conceded, watching as Ellison threw an arm around the younger man and
herded him towards the general store.

As the two brothers walked away, Chris felt a sudden pain of regret wash over him. There were
so many things he hadn’t shared with his own brother, so much time he needed to regain. And
now, now he might never get the chance.

“Chris!” Mary’s concerned voice snapped his attention to her. “You're bleeding,” she said,
reaching a tentative hand out to touch the man's clinched fist.

The gunslinger looked down at the chain still clutched in his hand and watched as the small
droplets of his blood, dripped to the dusty ground.

*There was evidence of a scuffle and some fresh blood stains...*
 
Chris squeezed his eyes shut as Ellison’s words washed over him, and prayed to anyone that was
listening that Vin was alright. And if he wasn’t , God help the men who had hurt him.

*******************************************************

‘What was silent in the father speaks in the son, and often I have found the son the unveiled
secret of the father.’- Friedrich Nietzsche

********************************************************

“I’m going after him,” Chris Larabee announced, throwing his saddle onto Sienna. The mare
balked some and the gunslinger wondered if she were picking up on the growing anxiety within
the stable.

“Damn it, Christopher,” Jon Larabee swore, pulling his hat off and slamming it across one of the
stall rails. “You can’t go running off after Reades by yourself, boy. He’s bound to have more
than a handful of men working with him.”

“All the more reason for me to find him.”

“Chris,” Jon tried again. “Just wait ‘til morning. Frank and the others will be here by daylight.”

The younger Larabee cinched his saddle and threw his father a look over his shoulder. “That’s
six hours, Jon. Six hours that Vin’s out there with some lunatic bent on revenge.”

The other man came around to stand in front of his son. “I understand that. Believe me, it’s all I
can think about. But putting yourself in the clutches of that bastard isn’t going to help your
brother none.”

“I don’t plan on getting caught.”

“Don’t underestimate Reades, son. I made that mistake many a year ago.”

Chris let his gaze meet his fathers. “I’m going.”

Jon run a hand through his thick hair and bit back the tongue lashing he wanted to let loose on
the young man in front of him. He knew his own flesh and blood well enough to know that tactic
would get him no where. “Then at least let Josiah or Ezra go with you.

Chris shook his head no. “I’d rather track them alone. I’ll leave a trail so you all can follow. You
and your men may need their help. Besides, maybe I can get Vin out of there before the
fireworks start.”

“And maybe you can get your fool self killed.” Jon’s voice was almost a shout now. “I will not
lose both of you to this.”

Chris looked at his father with some surprise. It was rare to see the man shaken,  less on , angry.
He and Vin were alike in that way.

But the younger Larabee had no problem getting mad, especially when someone he loved was in
danger. “So, Vin is an acceptable loss, but I’m not.”

A look of hurt flashed in the older man’s pale blue orbs, and the words seemed to momentarily
take the fight out of him.  “You know that’s not how I feel. A son is a son. Your brother is much
a part of me as you are.” Jon Larabee stepped toe to toe with his oldest and poked a finger in his
chest. “You of all people should know what it’s like to lose family.”

It seemed neither Larabee was above throwing a low blow.

“I do,” Chris replied gravely, meeting the other’s challenging glare. “And I don’t plan on letting
it happen again.”

Jon threw his arms in the air. He had raised a damn , stubborn fool. “Then I’m coming with
you.”

“No. You need to wait on Eckland and the others.  They need to be informed of what’s going
on.”

“Buck or Josiah can..”

Chris stopped his father with a dangerous look. “Buck has his hands full with J.D. If something
happens to him...,” Chris paused and had to swallow hard at the bitter taste that very thought
brought to his mouth. “Let’s just say, there’s no tellin’ what he might do.  I won’t be here and
he’ll need someone to talk some sense into him.”

Jon sighed, “And you think he’s going to listen to me after what I’ve brought down on that boy,
on all of you.”

“Buck won’t blame you, no matter what happens.” Chris took hold of Sienna’s reigns and started
for the door of the barn. “None of them will.”

“And what about you, Christopher?”

The older man’s question stopped the black-clad gunslinger just shy of the entrance.

“Can you say you won’t hold me responsible if something happens to your brother.”

Chris turned and pinned his father with ice-blue daggers. “Nothing is going to happen to Vin. I’ll
make sure of that. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Jon watched the younger man turn and go, leading his mount out into the dark, deserted street of
the little town, his last words ringing in the silence , like some horrific foreshadowing. “That’s
exactly what I’m afraid of, son,” the rancher muttered to himself, sending a quick prayer to the
Man above to watch out for both his boys. “’Exactly’ what I’m afraid of.”

*******************************************************

‘We have to realize that we are as deeply afraid to live and to love as we are to die’- Ronald
Laing

*******************************************************

Buck Wilmington couldn’t remember when he had known such fear. *Probably last time the kid
got hurt.* The gunslinger pulled off his hat and made a pass in front of the door to J.D.’s room
for the hundredth time.

Nathan had been in with the teen for over an hour now, and the healer had thrown Buck out after
the first fifteen minutes, saying the floor, or his nerves, couldn’t take much more of the
gunslingers pacing.
 
Hell, Wilmington knew he was annoying his friends, but he couldn’t help it. Watching as Nathan
tried anything and everything to wake J.D. had been torture enough, but doing it while sitting
still was impossible.

Buck and the kid were alike in that way. Neither sat still for too long, and if they were sitting,
either their hands or their mouths were moving. Enthusiasm was a characteristic neither man was
lacking in. Maybe, that’s why it bothered Wilmington so much to see the kid so ‘still’.  * Deathly
still.*

“Damn it!” Buck swore out loud, throwing a punch at the wall. He felt the satisfying, sharp pain
of flesh connecting with a solid object and cursed again. He was considering whether he should
finish off his wooden opponent with a right cross this time, when a hand on his shoulder startled
him.

“Take it from someone who knows, Buckland.” Jon Larabee’s soft, deep, voice brought the
gunslinger around to face him. “That wall don’t feel a damn thing.”

“Jon?” The younger man looked somewhat embarrassed. “I was just..”

“I know what you were doing, son.” Larabee put a hand on Wilmington’s shoulder and gave him
a little shove towards the two chairs lining the opposite side of the hallway. “I’ve decked a few
walls in my time.”

Buck sat down with a defeated sigh. “I just wish there was something 'useful' I could do.”

“Sometimes, all a body can do, is what he’s doing.”

Wilmington shook his head, “I could go with , Chris.”

Jon gave the man a sideways glance. “Could you?”

Wilmington didn’t need to reply. The answer was written in the lines of worry marring his
handsome face. “I need to be here when the kid wakes up.”

The older man ran a hand over his short beard and gave a thoughtful nod. “Then you’re doing all
you can do. All the boy would have you to do.”

Buck swallowed the lump that had sprung up in his throat, trying to steal his voice. “I’m just
afraid.... afraid ..”

Empathetic light eyes met Wilmington’s glistening, dark gaze and a strong hand reached out to
cover his clenched fists, “Me too, son. Me too.”

*******************************************************

‘The only thing we have to fear is fear itself’- Franklin D. Roosevelt

*******************************************************

“Do you ever get scared, Mr. Vin?” Matthew looked up from the hand of cards he was holding ,
to watch his new found friend's face.

The bounty hunter cocked one eyebrow and peered into the imploring, innocent eyes. “I reckon I
do.”

“Are you afraid now?”

“A little,” Tanner said honestly.

Matthew’s eyes grew wider and his lower lip trembled ever so slightly. “You are?”

A large smile spread across the tracker’s face and he reached out to ruffle the mop of dark curls
in front of him. “Afraid you’re going to beat me again. I already owe you a fortune as it is.”

The tactic worked, and giggles erupted from the little boy, who no longer had to fear the monster
known as fright.

That was a beast best left to those who were accustomed to it’s devastating bite. Hunters who
knew how to thwart such a villain, and understood what it could do if it went unchecked.

Children were never to be left at its mercy! Never. It was a lesson Vin Tanner had learned the
hard way and he was determined to do what he could to keep Matthew from it’s clutches.

Besides, Vin had a weapon, he didn’t hold as a boy. He had a family. A father. A brother. And
for once in his life, fear, held no power over him.

*******************************************************

‘Fear cannot be without hope nor hope without fear.’- Baruch Spinoza

*******************************************************

“What do you mean you ‘hope’ he’s going to wake up soon?” Buck demanded, watching the
myriad of emotions flashing across the healer’s face.

The gunslinger could tell Nathan was trying to detach himself from the situation, remain
objective; but that was nearly an impossible task considering the patient he was discussing.

“I mean that the sooner J.D. comes to, the better.” The dark man took a deep breath and stepped
away from the beseeching eyes of his friend. “I’m beginning to fear that ..”

“What?” Wilmington stood and followed the healer to the window at the end of the hallway.

“I’ve seen wounds like this in the war,” Jackson stared down onto the little town, just starting to
bustle with life in the pre-dawn glow of morning.

“And?” Buck reached out a hand and physically turned the other man to face him.

“And it’s not good, Buck.” Nathan watched the other man take a startled step back, as if the bad
news was some sort of a surprise attack. “J.D. might not wake up.”

That was something Wilmington would not accept. “Damn, Nate. The kid’s been hurt a lot worse
than a silly bump on the head before.” The tall gunslinger reasoned, turning a hopeful look to Jon
Larabee, who still sat quietly in the chair he had occupied most of the night. “He’s a lot
tougher that what he looks.”

“I’m sure he is,” Jon said, standing and making his way to the others. “He has to be to hang
around with the lot of you.” The rancher offered a reassuring smile to the distraught younger
man.

“Hanging around with us is what has gotten him into this.” Buck said and let out a ragged breath.
“Chris should have never let him hook up with us in the first place.”

“Some people are worth having in your life, no matter what.” Larabee said a little harsher than he
meant to. “I seriously doubt J.D. would have erased the last two years if he had the choice. So
why wish that for him.”

“I just want him around for a few more years,” Buck replied softly. “I won’t lose him now.”

“I ain’t giving up on him.” Nathan placed a hand on Wilmington’s shoulder. “I just wanted you
to know what the worst could bring.”

The gunslinger nodded, meeting the healer’s dark eyes. “Can I see him?”

Jackson smiled and let his hand tighten on the other man’s arm. “I think that would be better than
any medicine I could prescribe.”

*******************************************************

‘Enemies publish themselves. They declare war. The friend ‘never’ has to declare his love.’-
Henry David Thoreau

*******************************************************

Chris Larabee pulled his horse to a stop at the creek near Laurel Springs and slipped from the
saddle. He was tired and more than a little edgy. Worry and anger tended to do that to a man.

He looked up at the pink and orange streaks jetting across the horizon, glad that the sun would be
up soon to help his visibility, but annoyed that time was moving so swiftly. Time that he needed
to find Vin. The gunslinger was so engrossed in the coming of the new day, that he almost
missed the snap of a twig behind him. Almost.

With the speed of a striking snake, Chris whirled around, drew his sidearm and steadied it on his
very surprised target.

“I dare say you have too few friends , Mr. Larabee, to go removing us from the game.”

“Ezra!” Larabee spat, as the gambler emerged from the wooded area near the creek bank. “What
the hell do you think you’re doing?” Chris still held his gun pointed at the other man, as if his life
depended on the answer he may give.

“Coming to your aide, of course.” * And Mr. Tanner’s.*

“I thought I told you to stay in town with my father and the others.” The gunslinger finally placed
his weapon back in it’s holster.

“If I recall correctly, you requested that Josiah stay and ride out with Jon and his band of retired
compatriots. Your comment to me was more of a grunt as you left the saloon.”

“And you interpreted that as an invitation to tag along?”

Ezra shrugged and let a crooked grin slip onto his face. “I merely assumed you may require my
assistance.”

“I don’t need your help, Ezra.”

“Then I must have acquired some of your brother’s expert tracking skills without knowledge of
it.” Standish replied walking to the stream to quench his thirst.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Chris asked, gruffly.

Ezra had bent down to scoop some of the cool liquid into his hand, but could feel the frosty,
Larabee gaze burning a whole in the back of his head. “That means I have been shadowing you
for the last four hours and you haven’t so much as felt my presence until now.” The gambler
finally stood and faced one of the few men in the world that he respected. “And although I do
like to fancy myself a man of many talents, ‘tracking’ would not be something I would consider
my forte`.”

The other man averted his eyes, letting them drift back to the coming sun. “So I’ve been a little
distracted.”

“Mr. Larabee, I’ve always found it ironic that as proficient as Mr. Tanner is in observing , you
are just as skilled in knowing when you are being observed. That leads me to assume that you are
more than a ‘little distracted’.”

“Is there a point to all this, Ezra?” Chris growled, taking Sienna’s reigns and starting back up the
bank.

“The point is you need me, my friend.” *And I need to be here.* “I can be your look-out , so to
speak, as you ‘concentrate’ on finding Mr. Tanner.”

Larabee fought hard to supress the small grin threatening to lift the corner of his mouth. “That
sounds almost as dangerous as letting the fox guard the hen house.”

“Perhaps.” The gambler let his eyes meet Chris’s . “But I see no one else volunteering for the
position.”

The black-clad gunslinger smiled this time. “You’ve never ‘volunteered’ to do anything  in your
life, Ezra.”

Standish returned the grin. “Let’s just say, I have my own motives for being here, Mr. Larabee.”
When Chris raised an eyebrow and cast an amused glance in his friend’s direction, the gambler
was quick to come up with a plausible excuse. “After all, your brother does owe me a rather large
some of legal tender from our last little friendly game of chance.  And just what kind of croupier
would I be if I did not collect on debts owed to me.”

Chris shook his head and continued his trek towards the stand of trees where he assumed J.D.
and Vin had planned on making camp when they were attacked. Sometimes Ezra surprised him.
For the others, trust and friendship came rather easy, natural almost, but it wasn’t that way for
Standish. Everything he’d ever been taught, every instinct he held,  had led him to care for only
one person.

Himself.

So, instead of being angry at the other man for coming after him, Larabee couldn’t help but to be
more than a little proud.

*******************************************************
 
‘To live is to love; all reason is against it; instinct is for it.’ - Samuel Butler

*******************************************************

** “You know this doesn’t change anything between us, right?” Chris Larabee asked, his familiar
blue eyes never wavering from the younger man.

“I don’t see how it can’t. It’s already changed me,” Vin replied, turning his back to the other
man. “It’s like I never had a clue to who I was.”

“You’re Vin Tanner.” Chris reached out and pulled his brother around to face him. “You’re the
same man who risked his life for a stranger with me that first day we met. You’re the same
person who’s fallen into harm’s way more times than I care to count, to protect one of your
partners. To protect me. And you’re still my bestfriend.”

Vin wanted to believe what the other man was saying. Wanted to believe they could go on as
they had been . Unfortunately, pretending wouldn’t help anyone. “But now, I’m ‘your’ brother.”

A slow grin spread across the gunslinger’s face and he reached a hand up to lightly slap the
tracker’s cheek. “You don’t get it do you, cowboy. You were ‘already’ my brother.”**

“Mr. Vin,” Matty tried again, tugging at the older man’s sleeve this time. “I asked you if your
family would be worried ‘bout you?”

“Huh,” Vin pulled himself from the memory playing in his mind, to see a very flustered Matthew
staring at him. “I’m sorry Matt, I was just thinking.”

“Perhaps Mr. Tanner is tired of all your questions, young man.” Cora stepped around the table to
hand the little boy a glass of milk. “You’ve been talking non-stop since you awoke this
morning.”

“No, it’s alright.” Vin smiled at the older woman and then watched as Matty took a greedy gulp
of the white stuff and, to the exasperation of Mrs. Eckland, used his sleeve to wipe the milk
mustache from his face. “Matt asks really good questions.”

“Well do ya? Have a family?”

Vin nodded. “I have a father and a brother,” the tracker answered, and then reconsidered. “ Six
brothers, actually.”

“Six!?” Blue eyes widened in horror. “And I thought having ‘one’ baby brother was bad!”

Cora chuckled and took the other chair at the table. “I’m sure your young brother isn’t always
pleased with you, either.”

“Nah, he loves me,” Matt confessed around a mouthful of eggs. “Always following me around,
wanting me to take him fishin’ and to teach ‘im things.”

Tanner had to breathe past the sudden clenching in his chest as he once again wondered what
could have become of J.D.

“He probably misses me somethin’ fierce,” the little boy continued, his voice changing in tone. “I
bet he’s real lonely, too.”

Cora took in the sudden sadness in her youngest charge and chanced a glance in Vin’s direction.
She was more than surprised, and a little worried, to see a similar grief reflected in the young
man’s features. “I’m sure you both have very nice brothers, I look forward to meeting
them very soon.”

“You really think we’ll get to see them again, Miss Cora?” Matthew’s hope filled eyes nearly
broke the woman’s heart.

“You can count on it Matty.” It was Vin who answered. “I bet my brothers are probably looking
for us at this very moment.”

“Really?” That seemed to cheer the kid up again.

“Why I’d stake my reputation as a card player on it.”

“That’s not saying too much, Mr. Vin.” Matthew informed the bounty hunter with a serious
expression. “ I’d say you best stick to tracking, like in those stories you told me.”

Cora covered her mouth with her apron to keep from laughing out loud at the expression that
crossed Mr. Tanner’s face. “And I’d say you better finish your breakfast, young man, before Vin
loses his patience with you. In fact, both of you better eat up, before I lose my patience.”

Vin smiled as he watched Matthew dig into his eggs once again, shooting him a mischievous
look over his fork. “You know Matthew, there is one of my brothers' that may offer you some
competition when he arrives. He might even ‘beat’ you at a card game or two.”

The little boy simply shrugged and finished off his glass of milk, before giving the tracker a grin.
“Then I guess we’re even, cause I’m pretty sure my little brother, Franky, could clean your clock
too.”

************************************

‘Hope is itself a species of happiness and perhaps the chief happiness which this world
affords.’-Samuel Johnson

******************************************

Soft morning light flooded through the small room in Nathan’s clinic, bathing it’s sleeping
occupant in a wash of  natural flourescence. It’s presence seemed almost heavenly after the
darkness of the day before, but unfortunately, it cast no shining hope into the room or onto the
situation at hand; but rather, only illuminated the bleak reality lurking there in the shadows.

Buck clasped his hands together and leaned his elbows on his knees, letting his gaze focus on the
bed before him. Watching the rhythmic rise and fall of the young man’s chest had become a
reasurring sight; but one look at the kid’s face and hope was held at bay.

The nasty looking, purplish bruise across J.D.’s right temple could be seen much easier now that
daybreak had arrived and Wilmington fought to contain the all too familiar surge of rage
threatening to overcome him.

Whoever had hit the kid had done it with a tremendous force and whatever they used had broken
the skin above his eye, and small traces of blood had left a tell-tale trail down the side of the
teen’s pale cheek.

The older gunslinger reached out and let his finger lightly trace the scarlet tear’s descent down
the unshaven face, wishing he could erase it’s presence there.

The kid’s skin was cold to the touch, but Nathan had assured him that J.D.’s temperature was
near normal now.  Still, Buck felt the overwhelming need to pull a blanket from the bottom of the
bed and place it atop the two already covering his bestfriend. After tucking the quilt around
J.D.’s shoulder’s , he let his hand rest over the teen’s heart,thankful for the soft percussion
reverberating through his palm, but wishing he could hear from the kid himself that he was
alright.

“Damn it, J.D.,”Buck whispered, desperately. “You need to wake up, son.” Wilmington sighed.
He had tried anything and everything to reach his friend but nothing seemed capable of rescuing
the boy from whatever clutches held him in the realm of unconsciousness.

Although it hurt like hell to consider, Buck was beginning to wonder if Nathan’s words were
fated to come true. J.D. might not wake up.

But something just wouldn’t allow the older man to accept that.“Come on, kid. Talk to me.”

Never before had Wilmington wanted to hear one person’s voice so much so, that he was sure no
sound or utterance would ever compensate for it’s loss.  With one last lingering look at J.D. ,
Buck bowed his head and cursed the damn fool who’d ever said that ‘silence was golden’.

*******************************************************

‘There is an eloquent silence: it serves sometimes to approve, sometimes to condemn; there is a
mocking silence, there is a respectful silence.’ - Francois de La Rochefoucauld.

*******************************************************

The two riders had traveled the last several miles in complete stillness. In peaceful consideration,
Ezra had watched as Chris picked up on the trail out of Laurel Springs and drove them at a
dizzing pace across the rough terrain. Hopefully, they were headed towards a destination that he
only hoped would hold the prize for their quest.
 

The gambler knew that his friend’s thoughts were only on one thing , or should he say,person.
Vin Tanner.

Fortunaterly, so far, the journey had been one blessed with good fortune, considering the lack of
finesse used by the men who had assaulted J.D. and taken the tracker. It was as if they cared less
if they were followed, or perhaps that they hoped they would be.

That very thought echoed in Ezra’s mind as he slowed his horse to a trot when Chris stopped up
ahead of him.

The gunslinger was watching the sky with an intense interest and it wasn’t long before Ezra, too,
saw the flashes of black, swooping in wide circles around some unlucky victim.

“Buzzards,” Chris announced, gravely,  as the gambler pulled Chance to a hault at his friend’s
side.

“Perhaps they are scavanging some poor woodland creature?” Ezra offered, attempting to wipe
some of the dust from his brow. “Those feathered beasts are as finicky about their cuisine as Mr.
Wilmington is.”

Larabee didn’t bother with a reply, but merely continued his trek towards the source of his
awakened fear. There were too many of the black birds circling for the intended feast to be a
small animal, and this was no place for cattle or wild horses, so Chris could only think of one
other possibility. And that was a prospect that chilled him, even in the mid-summer heat.

The gambler didn’t have to ponder very hard to realize what fears were waltzing through the
other man’s thoughts. The same taunting vision was playing through his  own head as well. As he
nudged Chance forward to follow Larabee, he hoped that for once his well-honed instincts were
wrong.

Unfortunately, the overpowering stench that wafted down to greet the two approaching men ,
served only to increase their worry. Nothing smelled quite like the rotting of human flesh.

“Damn,” Chris breathed and dismounted Sienna about ten feet from where the body, that they
could now make out clearly, lay.

 It wasn’t Vin. That was obvious. This man was shorter and stockier, and dressed much more to
Ezra’s taste, than that of the bounty hunter.

Larabee made his way to the corpse and used his foot to roll it over, his empassive face barely
registering the flinch as he took in the state of the dead man.

“Rather odd to see a man of such calibre out in the wilds, wouldn’t you say?” Standish observed,
coming to stand by the other gunslinger.

“Looks like he was beat to death,” Chris noted, with part disgust and a hint of awe. “By a big son
of a bitch.”

Standish squatted next to the dead man, and picked up the gold pocket watch he’d caugh sight of,
glinting in the sun. “And it seems his demise was not motivated by greed.”

Chris scanned the landscape around them before joining the gambler. “I don’t remember seeing
him in town. You?”

Ezra shook his head. “No. And I do make it a habbit of knowing when the influential are in my
territory. By the fine quality of his attire, I’d say he is quite affluent.”

“A banker maybe?” Chris had a sudden insight.

“Perhaps,” the gambler answered, thoughtfully. “Why might his vocation be of interest?

Larabee met his friend’s puzzled gaze. “Because Jon told me Jack Darcy’s son was a banker."

“The same son who was taken by the dastardly Mr. Reades?” Ezra was beginning to get a sinking
feeling in the pit of his stomach, the same type of feeling he got when he recieved a very bad deal
at the card table.

“One in the same,” Chris confirmed, his voice dropping a decible.

“Then are you of the same suspicion, Mr. Larabee, that it may not have been lady luck that has
led us here to find the good, Darcy Jr.?”

Larabee continued to act casual, never taking his eyes from Ezra. “On the count of three, we head
to that grouping of rocks to my right.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Standish smiled and nodded, as if nothing were wrong.

“One.” Chris discreetly let his hand drop to his side arm. “Two.” Standish took a deep breath.

Unfortunately, the last thought that entered Ezra’s mind, before his world went black, was that he
never heard three.

*******************************************************

‘The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.’-John
Milton

*******************************************************

J.D. Dunne felt strange. It was as if he were not able to focus through the blinding, thick fog
surrounding him. He was floating in a darkness, light and airy, unable to grasp anything to hold
on to. The youth wasn’t sure what was going on, or where he was exactly; but there was one
thing he knew for sure though, his head hurt something fierce.

It ached in an intensity he’d never imagined before and he longed to go back to whatever
unfeeling bliss he had just emerged from. However, his body had other ideas. So, with a bit of
determination the teen attempted to lift his incredibly heavy eyelids and get a better view of
whatever situation had rendered him to the particular state he was in.

Unfortunately, the sudden intrusion of light caused a searing pain to erupt from somewhere
behind his eyes and he moaned outloud before he could stop himself.

“J.D.!”

The teen flinched away from the sudden thunderous boom. *Oh, God.*  Someone was shouting
at him, sending little, sharp knives of agony piercing through his brain.

“Kid? Can you hear me?”Buck had practically fell out of the chair he was dozing in when he’d
heard the boy’s gasp and was now hovering above the bed where J.D. lay.

“Buck?” J.D. managed, through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, it’s me, kid.” Wilmington eased himself down on the cot and placed a hand on his
friend’s shoulder. “How you doing?”

“I’ve been better,” the teen replied trying to lift his hand to his head.

Buck caught it before he reached his intended destination and clasped it in both of his. “Easy.
Nathan took some time cleaning that wound up, to have you go messing with it.”

J.D. didn’t resist the other man’s interference, but tried opening his eyes again. “What
happened?”

“Do you remember anything?”

The kid frowned and tried to focus his squinted hazel eyes on the blurry form in front of him.
“Would I be asking if I did?”

Buck smiled . “Guess not.” The gunslinger shifted back to the chair by the bunk, but kept a grip
on his friend. “You took a bad blow to the head. You’ve been out of it for over twenty-four
hours.”

“What?” J.D. groaned. “I explain that guess why I terrible feel.”

“Huh?” Buck was the one frowning now, as he tried to comprehend what the kid had just said.

“I said I feel terrible.” The kid restated normally this time.

“That’s not what you said.” Wilmington leaned forward and gently placed a hand on the boy’s
forehead. “No fever,” Buck mumbled and then held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I
holding up?”

The younger man rolled his eyes. “Six,” he answered without thinking. He really didn’t feel like
playing games.

“Nathan!” Buck yelled, jumping up from the chair and opening the door that led into the hallway.
“Nathan!”

“Buck!” J.D. yelped in pain, bringing his hands up to cover his ears.

“Kid, what is it?” Wilmington rushed to his friend’s side.

Tear filled hazel eyes glared up at the other man. “You, Buck. Stop shouting. Please.”

“Damn, J.D.” The gunslinger covered the boy’s hands with his own and pulled them away from
his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Buck!” Nathan chose that moment to burst breathlessly into the room, afraid of what
circumstances he may find.

The teen jumped as another wave of pain exploded inside his head and Wilmington turned
fiercely on the healer. “Shhh. Keep it down.”

Jackson gave the gunslinger a puzzled look but quickly made his way to his patient’s side. “J.D.?
How you feeling?”

“He’s talking funny, Nate.” Buck replied worriedly.

“Not am I.”

“See.”

Jackson took in the concerned look on Wilmington’s face and the pained expression on his
patients’. “J.D., how many fingers am I holding up?” the healer asked, holding up three fingers.

The teen took a deep breath and let out an exasperated sigh. “Five.”

“Nathan!”Buck whispered and gestured towards the kid.
 
“Buck, I’m alright.”This time the youth tried to push himself up to a sitting position. “My vision
is just a little funny.”

“Funny how, son?” Jackson pushed the teen back down onto the berth and  leaned close enough
to the kid so that he could look into each eye.

“Blurry, kind of,” J.D. replied with a shrug.

“Do you feel sick to your stomach?” Nathan asked, eyeing the younger man.

“A little, but mostly my head just hurts.”

The healer smiled and patted his patient on the shoulder. “I just bet it does.”

“What is it, doc?” Wilmington spoke up. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Buck, I was fine said you.”

“Sure, kid.” The gunslinger kept his worried gaze on Nathan.

“This happens sometimes with a serious headwound.” The healer walked around to the other side
of the bed and retrieved a glass of water. “But as long as J.D. rests and his symptoms don’t get
any worse, he should be fine.”

The teen took the drink that Jackson offered him and shot Buck a half smile. “Told you.”

Buck didn’t look all together convinced but he let his eyes fall back on J.D. “Just do as Nathan
says, and take it easy.”

“Like I have a choice with you around.”The kid tried to sound annoyed , but didn’t quite pull it
off.

“I won’t be here,” Buck said casually. “But Nate, will fill me in when I get back. I’m sure he can
enlist Casey’s and Mary’s help in keeping you in line.”

A sudden frown crossed the younger man’s face and he succeeded in sitting up in bed this time.
“Where are you going?”

Wilmington met Jackson’s dark eyes, and directed his reply to the healer. “I’m going to meet up
with Josiah and Jonathan. Take care of him for me.”

“Buck?” J.D. tried to understand what the other man was saying. Normally, it took days for the
teen to shake his overprotective friend after one of his little ‘predicaments’ sent the older man
into a‘big brother’ tantrum; and now he was just going to up and leave.  “What ‘is’ going on?”

“Look, kid.” Wilmington knelt by the teen’s bed. “I know things are little groggy right now and
everything is a mite confusing. But somethings have happened and I need to go help Chris and
the others out.”

“Chris?” The kid’s face paled instantly. “Is he alright?”

Buck laid a hand on J.D.’s shoulder. “I’m sure Chris is fine, but Josiah and I are going to go
make sure.”

“What about Ezra and Vin?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the teen grabbed his
head in pain as a sudden memory threatened to pound it’s way free.

“J.D.?” Wilmington reached out to steady the younger man as Nathan made his way back around
the cot.

“Something happened to Vin,” the teen managed to say, as Nathan and Buck eased him back
down onto the cot.

“Yeah, kid.” The older gunslinger looked at the healer as if to see if he should give their partner
the rest of the news. When Jackson didn’t object, Buck continued. “Someone grabbed him while
you all were on your hunting trip. That’s how you got hurt.”

“I..I don’t really remember anything , just get a bad feeling.,” the boy looked up at Buck. “Did I
mess up?”

“Hell no.” Wilmington was quick to put those thoughts out of the kid’s head. “Whatever Vin’s
got himself into has nothing to do with you, kid.”

“But it’s bad?”J.D. turned to Nathan this time.

The healer nodded. “About the same as always.”

“Great,” J.D. sighed, closing his eyes. “Just give me a minute, Buck, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Go?” The older man laughed. “You ain’t going anywhere but to sleep.”The gunslinger stated
firmly.

Hazel eyes flew open with a familiar hint of stubborness. “I can fight, Buck. You all may need
me.”

It was Wilmington’s turn to sigh, as he rubbed at his weary, bloodshot, eyes. “Look, J.D., we
always need you; but what’s more important is what ‘you’ need right now.”

“And that would be rest,” Nathan added, with a tone that left no room for objection.

Buck smiled. “You heard the doc, kid. He wouldn’t let me take you out of here, even if I had a
mind to.”

“Please, Buck. I’ll fine be see .”

Wilmington shot a worried glance at Nathan before laying a hand on the teen’s brow. “I know
you will, J.D.” Buck tilted his head and waited for the younger man to look at him. “Because
you’re staying here.”

“Fine!” J.D. replied glumly, and shied away from the other man’s touch. “I should be used to
being told what to do by now.”

Wilmington ruffled the boy’s hair and stood up once again. “Still doesn’t stop you from bitchin’
about it though, does it.”

“I have some extra medical supplies downstairs that you might want to take along,” Nathan told
his friend, wishing he could go himself, but not willing to leave J.D. alone in his condition.

The gunslinger nodded and started for the door when J.D.’s voice stopped him. “Buck?”

“Yeah, kid?”Wilmington turned back around.

J.D. forced a small smile. “Make sure you come back.”

“You can count on it , kid.”

*******************************************************

‘ If a man hasn’t discovered something that he wil die for , he isn’t fit to live.’- Marthin Luther
King , Jr.

********************************************************

“You don’t have to do this, Mr. Tanner.” Cora smiled as the tracker handed her his and Matt’s
plates from the table.

“I don’t mind.” Vin’s slow grin spread across his face. “Besides, you fixed breakfast, the least I
can do is help you clean up.”

“I’m afraid it wasn’t much. Our host is not being very generous in the rations.”

Vin started to reply when the door to the cabin swung open and several men stepped in. “Well, I
hate that you feel I have been so ungenerous, Miss Eckland.”

At the sound of the voice, Cora dropped the glass she was holding and it shattered as it the struck
the floor.

“Easy,” Vin said calmly, stepping in front of the woman. Matthew who had been playing at the
table jumped up from his chair and came to stand behind Cora.

“Mr. Tanner, I presume.” A tall, white-haired man stepped from amidst the group. He clasped his
hands behind his back and casually manuevered his large frame across the room. “I’m sorry I
couldn’t greet you when you came to be with us, yesterday, but I’ve been rather busy with some
special plans.”

“Who are you?”

“Now, now, young Larabee. I’m sure my reputation has preceded me. After all, Miss Eckland
and I have been aquainted for several days now. She , no doubt, has revealed my identity to you.”

“Knowing your name doesn’t tell me who you are or why you’re doing this.”

Tanner watched the older man size him up with one practiced sweep of his dark eyes, and wasn’t
surprised to see the feral grin that erupted on the chizled face. He’d seen men like Reades before
and knew what intent lay behind the stone gaze.

“Let’s just say that I’m an old friend.”

“You ain’t no friend of mine, Reades.” Vin replied, stepping closer to their captor. “But I did
have a friend with me and I’d like to know what happened to him.”

Warren stroked his long curved moustache, as he considered his prisoner’s request. “Teague?” he
finally motioned to the men behind him.

The tracker reflexively took a step back as one of the largest men he’d seen stepped forward to
tower above them.
 
“Do you recall what you may have done to the young man you found with Mr. Tanner?”

The monstrous black man grinned, revealing his missing front teeth. “I just put the baby to sleep,
Mr. Reades, sir.”

The bounty hunter’s face paled. “If you hurt him..”

Reades chuckled and slapped Teague on one broad bicep. “Now does my friend ,Teague, look
like he’d hurt a body, especially an innocent boy.”

“He doesn’t seem to have a problem taking women and children.”

“Good point. But I assure you that Teague was told not to kill your friend, young Larabee.”

“That’s the second time you called me that, mister. I think you’re a bit confused.”

“Am I, Vin?” .

“Just what the hell do you want, Reades?”

Warren shrugged .“I’m not inclined at the moment to get into the long story that has brought you
into my company. Although, I feel I may have someone who’d be more than willing to share that
information with you.”

The older man looked back towards the door and then turned to face the tracker once more. “ I
mean, brothers rarely keep secrets.”

A sudden feeling of dread descended upon the bounty hunter and he fought to keep the fear from
his eyes. “I ain’t got no brother.”

“But Mr. Vin, you said..” Matthew spoke up, only to have Cora cover his mouth.

“No need to shush the boy, Cora. I know all about Mr. Tanner’s family. As I do yours and
Matthew’s.” Reades turned to Teague. “Tell Sevastian to bring our newest guest in.”

Vin watched as the giant left the cabin and said a quick prayer that things weren’t going the way
that he was afraid they were. “Don’t look so worried, Vin,” Warren placated. “I needed
Christopher alive. Although he did tend to be a little stubborn about the whole situation.”

The older man turned as Teague and an Indian entered, supporting a struggling, bound and
gagged, Chris Larabee between them. “I take it that hard-headedness runs in the family.”

“Chris?” Vin made a move to come to his brother’s aide, when he heard the familiar click of a
revolver.

“No sudden moves, young Larabee,” Reades chided. “My men tend to get a littly antsy. Why they
‘accidentally’ shot one of your colleagues just this afternoon while retrieving your brother.”

Vin swallowed back the anger boiling inside of him. He wouldn’t give Warren the satisfaction of
seeing him sweat.If one of his partner’s had been hurt, the others would see to it. Just as he was
sure they’d be coming for him and Chris. Then, they’d all make Reades pay for daring to cross
them.

“Well, I do have some plans to finalize,” Reades continued, turning and making his way towards
the door. “So I will leave you to get reaquainted with your sibling. He has been so very anxious
to find you,  since your disappearance.”

With a nod from their boss, Teague and Sevastion released Chris and the gunslinger fell roughly
to his knees on the wooden floor.

“I shall be back to check in on you soon.” Reades tipped his hat at Cora and then preceeded his
henchmen out of the cabin.

Once they were gone, Vin wasted no time in making it to his brother’s side. He knelt beside the
fallen man and started untying the bandana around the gunslinger’s mouth. “Are you alright?” “

“Fine,” Larabee replied hoarsely. “You?”

The tracker swore softly, taking in Chris’s nearly swollen shut-eye and his busted lip. “Better
than you.” Vin flashed the older man a worried look as he deftly untied the ropes around
Larabee’s hands. “Can’t I leave for a few days without you finding trouble?”

Chris started to say something when another excited voice broke in.

“Is your brother alright, Mr. Vin?” Matthew came stumbling towards the two men, carrying a cup
of water, which he was trying intently to keep from spilling . “He looks like he fell down.”

“He’s alright, Matty. He always looks this bad.” Vin shot gave his brother a crooked grin, before
taking the water from Matt and handing it to him. “Chris this is Matthew Quinn. He’s been a big
help to us during this whole mess, especially to me.”

Larabee smiled at the six year-old and took his hand to shake. “Thanks for watching out for him,
Matthew.”

The gunslinger’s words absolutely delighted the little boy, who smiled proudly and vigorously
returned the hand shake. “It was hard work, but somebody had to do it.”

Chris laughed, “I know exactly what you mean, kid.”

“Come on back over here now, Matthew,” Cora called from her task of heating some soup over
the fireplace. “Let Vin and his brother talk.”

Matty rolled his eyes and gave Chris an exasperated look. “ That’s Miss Eckland,”he explained
with a quick look over his shoulder. “ She’s nice and a real good cook, but she’s bossier than
even my Ma.”

“I heard that young man,” Cora scolded, but couldn’t hide the tiniest hint of a smile in her voice.
“Now come help me before I really get my hackles up.”

Vin watched the the little boy stalk away before turning an anxious glance back to the gunslinger.
“What the hell is going on here, Chris?”

“Didn’t Reades tell you all anything?”

Vin shook his head. “No. But you don’t look surprised to be here, or to see Cora and Matthew, so
I’m guessing someone must have filled you in.”

“It has to do with our families and what they did in the past,” Chris replied, letting his eyes drift
towards the woman and the little boy.

“Our families?” Vin raised an eyebrow.

“Miss Eckland’s husband, Mathew’s grandfather, ” Chris paused, holding his brother’s intense
blue gaze. “And Jonathan.”

“They're all connected to Warren?”

Larabee nodded. “They were partners with him a long time ago. Rode protection for cattle
ranchers.”

Vin sighed and run a hand through his long hair, “I take it they didn’t part on the best of terms?.”

“Reades went bad. Jon said the others had no choice but to take him down. They helped put him
in prison where he served more’an thirty years.”

“So he kidnaps members of their families to get revenge?” Vin had a feeling he was missing part
of the story.

Larabee lowered his head a moment, before meeting his brother’s puzzled glance once more.
“Reades' wife and son were killed in a wagon accident during his capture.”

“My Frank told me about that,” Cora’s soft voice brought both mens’ attention to her. She had
moved unnoticed to a spot just behind them.  “ He woke up many a nights dreaming about the
little boy and his Ma drowning in that river. I don’t think he ever
mentioned the man’s name, but he blamed himself for their deaths. Even years later, he just
couldn’t let it go.”

“Apparently, neither could Reades,” Chris supplied, solemly.

“And why should I?” Warren Reade stepped through the entranceway unnanounced. He was
again accompanied by Sevastion and Teague, who held a rifle at the ready. “I was robbed of my
wife and my precious child, not to mention being sent to prison by men I trusted,nonetheless;
men I considered brothers.”

“Could you forget such a wrong, Mr. Larabee?” Warren continued, bringing his hand up to his
brow. “Oh, but that’s a silly question. You have suffered a similar fate yourself; and from what
I’ve heard, you’ve been no stranger to the demon, hate.”

“You don’t know anything about me, Reades.”  Chris stood up with a little help from Vin.

Warren walked over to where Matthew was hiding behind Cora’s dress and ruffled the boy’s
hair, “Maybe not, but as a parent myself, I know how one feels about their children.”

“Then you should realize how wrong this thing that you’re doing is, Mr. Reades,”the older
woman’s words held all the bite of a cold winter’s frost. Cora’s dark eyes defiantly met
Warrens’. “No father worth his weight in salt would want another parent to suffer the same
tragedy that you endured.”

Reades laughed lightly. “This from someone who never experienced the joy of a child.”

Mrs. Eckland flinched as if the words had assaulted her physically and this only seemed to invite
Warren to continue, “Why was it that you and old Frank never brought a bundle of joy into the
world? The old crone afraid of what his bad seed might bring  forth.”

“Leave her alone,” Vin spoke up, unwilling to let the old woman be taunted.

Reades shook his head, “If only my bestfriend,Jonny, would have been so smart.”

The outlaw turned to look at Chris and Vin, “Not only did he have a child ‘in’ wedlock, he
shamed some poor woman on the side by giving her a bastard son.”

Vin would have went after Warren had Chris not had an iron grip on his arm, “Easy, cowboy,” he
told the tracker, never taking his eyes off of Reades. “Our host is just trying to get you riled.”

“ Well actually I just came to tell you that we’d be moving out early in the morning. Unforseen
events have caused me to speed things up; but now I must admit that you have got my interest
raised in what exactly would it take to get ‘you’ riled, Larabee?” Warren looked amused as he
stepped closer to Vin a Chris, his other victim forgotten.

The black-clad gunslinger’s face remained as impassive as usual, giving nothing to the man now
standing toe to toe with him.

“You know I’ve heard all about you. You and your six friends.”  Reades smiled. “Magnificent
they call you; but I’m not so sure.”

The older man raised his hands, “You are just men , after all. Men who have faults, who make
mistakes, who lose their cool. Or are you like your father and believe all men should be as perfect
as he thinks himself.”

“I’m not my father,” Chris replied casually.

“Maybe not,”Reades sighed, as if he were growing bored with the game. “But still, the apple
does not fall far from the tree. Take your brother for instance.” The older man turned his gaze on
Vin.  “He would have gotten him fool self killed trying to avenge some slur he thought I had
directed at his poor dead mother, had you not been here to stop him.  Sounds exactly like
something the ‘ethical’ Jonathan Larabee would do.  The man was always a sucker for that
‘defending a woman’s honor’ bullshit. ”

“Shut-up, Reades,” Vin growled.

“Take it easy, young Larabee. I wasn’t insulting your old man. Just the opposite, actually.  He
bed a lot of whores with that act while we were riding together.”

Warren let his voice drop a decible lower as he stepped closer to the tracker. “Maybe that’s how
he got your Ma to raise her skirt, huh, son?”

Before Chris could stop him, Vin had his fist raised and delivered a hard right hook to Reade’s
jaw, sending the man sprawling to the floor.  Sevastian turned to help his fallen friend as Teague
readied his weapon and leveled in on the tracker.

“You’re going to pay for that , boy.” The large black man stepped forward and Chris protectively
placed himself in front of his brother.

“Easy, Teague.” Reades had made it to his feet again, with some assistance from the old Indian,
and now stared at Jon’s son with a feral grin. “We wouldn’t want your finger to slip and  you to
finish off another one of my prizes, without their good daddy here to watch.”

“But he done went and disrespected you, Mr. Reades.” Teague let a smile of his own spread
across his scarred features. “Ain’t nobody disrespects, Mr. Reades.”

Warren nodded and rubbed at his already swelling face. “And he’ll have to pay for that.”

“Like hell he will,” Chris proclaimed defiantly, placing himself between the tracker and the
impending threat. “You got exactly what you were asking for, mister.”

“Maybe,” Reades shrugged. “But you’re brother shouldn’t have been so quick to take the bait. I
can’t be held responsible for his foolhearty decision.”

Warren turned to Teague. “Take the boy outside. You and a few of our men teach him a lesson.”

Larabee took a step towards Warren. “Do this,Reades, and I will f**king kill you, you son of a
bitch.”

“So this is how one pushes your buttons.” The older man laughed. “But I’m afraid,Christopher,
that I have no choice but to take that as an empty threat. Considering that ‘you’ are the one being
held at gunpoint.” Warren raised a hand and waved it in he air.

“Fortunately, I have never been a man who succumbs to threats.”

Chris let his eyes scan the men around him. They had the upperhand. They held all the cards.
And they had Chris Larabee just where they wanted him. “Take me instead. I’ll go in his place.”

“The hell you will.” Tanner took a step around the gunslinger, so that he was no longer in his
brother’s protective shadow.

“Shup up, Vin.” Larabee pushed the younger man behind him once more. “What do you say,
Warren. I am Jon Larabee’s first born. That is what you were after, isn’t it?”

“Damn it, Chris,” the tracker swore and then added in a softer voice, “I won’t let you do this.”

“Don’t worry, Vin . Although I find this whole scene very touching, I’m not inclined to take your
brother’s offer. As satisfying as it may be, I want him perfectly healthy when your father arrives.”

Warren chuckled. “Besides, you do so remind me of Jon."

Two of Warren’s henchmen stepped from behind Teague and grabbed Chris’s arms.

“I will kill you, Reades. I swear it.” Larabee fought against the men holding him as Vin was
motioned out by Sevastian.

“I’m sure you’d be inclined to try, son.” The tall lanky man started for the door, but then stopped
and faced Chris once more. “But I’d say you’ll have your hands much too full taking care of your
brother. That is , if he survives.”

“You better not hurt, Mr. Vin.” Matthew had jerked away from Cora now, seeing Tanner being
ushered out the door. He didn’t understand all of what the grown-ups had been saying, but he
was sure it wasn’t good for the tracker. “You’ll be in big trouble if you do.” The six year-old had
placed himself defiantly in front of Reades.

“Matthew!” Cora stepped forward to grab the little boy’s hand but Warren stopped her with an
icy look.

“You have your grandfather’s spunk , young man.” The outlaw knelt in front of his youngest
captive. “But also his big mouth.”

“You should let Mr. Vin go before his other brothers get here. They won’t like you being bad to
him.” Matt stated matter-of-factly.

“Vin did something bad to me, Matthew, and for that he has to be punished.” Warren wiped at
the blood on his split lip and smiled condescendingly at the boy. “Doesn’t your folks punish you
when you’ve done something wrong.”

Matty nodded, eyes bright and brimming with unshed tears. “ But who’s going to punish you for
what you’re doing, Mr. Warren?”

Reades stared into the deep blue depths for a moment, not answering, before angrily pushing
himself to standing again. “I have already served my penance, son. Now I get to have a taste of
retribution.”

*******************************************************

‘Man is the only animal who causes pain to others with no other object than wanting to do
so.’-A. Schopenhauer

*******************************************************

Chris Larabee paced the length of the small cabin like a caged tiger. It had seemed like an
eternity since he had watched his brother be led away, helpless to stop what was about to happen
to him,useless as any means of protection.

Unable to see or hear anything , the gunslinger could only imagine the worse possibilities and his
line of thinking was only made more unbearable by the image of Darcy’s body, beaten and
broken on the trail.

It had to have been Teague’s work, and now that same monster was with Vin.

First J.D. had been hurt by this mess, then Ezra, and now his brother. Reades was a walking
deadman.

“Drink some coffee, won’t you?”The woman’s soft, but firm voice brought the gunslinger from
his dark musings. Cora’s outstretched hand trembled slightly, as she offered the small tin cup to
Chris. “I can’t promise that it will make you feel better, but it will make me feel useful.”

“How’s the boy?” Larabee took the offering and let his gaze fall on Matthew who was curled up
on one of the cots.

“Scared,” Cora sighed. “Confused. How can someone so young understand why all this is
happening?”

“Hatred is hard to explain to the innocent.”

“Innocence is hard to protect." Mrs Eckland let her eyes scan the other man. "But your brother
has tried very hard. He has been very kind to us, and especially good with Matty.” The woman’s
sympathetic dark eyes offered some semblence of comfort to the gunslinger.

“Vin’s good at watching out for others.” Larabee swallowed hard, wishing he could say the same
for himself.

“A family trait, I assume.” Cora smiled.

Chris didn’t reply but instead took a drink of the bitter liquid. He coughed and winced at the
woman’s amused look. “I take it my brother made this coffee?”

“How’d you know?”

The gunslinger smiled sadly, “Coffee is something he is ‘not’ good at.” Chris sat the cup on the
table and walked towards the door once more.

“I should think he is very good at surviving, also.” Cora said softly. “Perhaps you should
concentrate on that, instead of the worst.”

"Maybe," Larabee conceded. "But..."

"No buts, young man. Worry is as 'bout as useful as a lame horse. It serves no purpose but to
make you old before your time."

Chris sighed, knowing deep inside, the woman was only trying to help, but before he could
explain that he'd rather be left alone to his aging, the front door of the cabin opened and Teague
entered with the unconscious form of Vin Tanner slung over his shoulder.

"He's a fighter," the black man laughed, casually tossing the tracker's limp form to the floor, like
he was no more than a sack of flour. "I'll give him that much."

Chris started towards the man, but a hand on his arm stopped him. "Don't provoke him. If you're
hurt, who'll tend to your brother."

Cora's quiet voice did the trick and Larabee stood in a silent rage, every muscle tense and
rippling with anger, as Teague grinned at him and exited the room.

Once the monstrous man was gone, the gunslinger rushed to wounded man's side. "Vin?" he said
anxiously, turning his brother over as gently as possible.

"Damn," Larabee breathed as he took in the numerous bruises and abrasions marring Vin's slack
face.

"I'll get some water." Chris heard Cora say, but never let his eyes rome from the younger man.

"Vin, can you hear me?“ The gunslinger let his trembling fingers come to rest on the side of his
brothers neck, hoping to find the blessed pulse he was searching for.

Feeling the slow but steady rhythm beneath his calloused hand, he let out the breath he hadn't
even realized he was holing, before beginning a more thorough examination of the bounty
hunter's injuries.

It didn't take long for him to find the broken arm, or the dark bruises around Tanner's neck. It
looked as if someone had held him while another did the dirty work. And knowing Vin as well as
he did, he knew his brother hadn't made it easy for them.

"I'm so sorry, pard," Larabee sighed,pushing at the blood soaked hair clinging to his brother's
brow.

"Here." Mrs. Eckland's concerned face appeared in Larabee's periphereal vision, bringing him
back from the dark pit he'd fallen into. "You best tend to those cuts, to prevent infection from
setting in. Best to do it before he wakes up and gets all ornery on you." Cora offered, knowing
that giving the gunslinger something to do, was one way to help ease his grief.

Chris took the cloth and water from her and returned the weak smile she offered him. He
returned his attention to the unconscious tracker and set the basin on the dirt floor. The
gunslinger was just starting to begin the task of trying to clean some of the wounds on his
brother’s face when he felt a tentative little hand on his shoulder.

“Is he gonna die, Mr. Chris?” Matt asked, letting large blue eyes settle on Larabee.

The question took the older man’s breath for a moment but he quickly shook his head. “No,
Matty, he’s not going to die.” * I won’t let him.*

“Mr. Chris?” the little boy inquired again, now going to sit cross-legged on the other side of
Vin’s prone form.

“Yeah, son?” Chris replied patiently, gently running the cloth over one of the worse cuts on Vin’s
cheek.

“I’m glad you came to rescue Mr. Vin and all,” the six-year old paused as if unsure of how to say
exactly what was on his mind. “But who’s going to save us now that he’s hurt and you’re being
held prisoner too?”

Larabee dipped the cloth back in the cool water, watching the liquid change from clear to a
muddy shade of crimson before looking back at the child, “Remember our other friends, our
brothers, that you said Vin told you about, Matty?”

The little boy thought for a second, then nodded.

“Well, I’m sure they are coming after us. It won’t be long before they show up to save the day.”

“Just like Sheriff Bat Masterson?” Matthew’s snaggle-toothed grin made the gunslinger smile
inspite of his worry.  A child’s faith always amazed him.

“Yeah, kid, just like that.”

A soft moan brought Chris’s attention quickly back to the injured man before him. Cora rushed
over and took Matty’s hand, pulling him out of the way. “Come on Mathew, let’s see if we have
any of that soup left from earlier today Vin may like some when he's feeling better.”

“Vin?” Larabee leaned closer to his brother, laying the cool cloth across the younger man’s
forehead. “Can  you hear me?”

“Chris?” Tanner’s eyes fluttered and finally opened.

The gunslinger smiled and let out a sigh of relief, “Yeah, it’s me.”

The bounty hunter moaned lightly and tried lifting his arm, but gasped in pain at the movement.
“What the hell happened?”

“Take it easy,” Chris caught his brother’s left arm and kept him from trying to move it again. “I
think that arm’s broke. Reades’ men worked you over pretty good.”

“And here I thought I’d been run over by a stagecoach,” Vin coughed and instantly regretted it.
“Damn,” he hissed, pulling his good arm across his midsection and trying to roll onto his side.

“Easy,” Chris let his hand drop to Vin’s bloodied shirt and started to unbutton it. “Let me see.”

Larabee winced in sympathy once he could take in the damage that had been done to the tracker.
Bruises were already starting to form over most of Tanner’s abdomen and ribs, not to mention
the three gashes running perpendicular to his side, which Chris assumed had been made by the
steel toe of a boot

“Just hang in there,” the gunslinger said soflty, as he deftly run his fingers over the worst of the
contusions, checking for fractures he hoped he wouldn’t find.

Vin flinched a few times, but never said a word until the older man finished. “How bad?”

Larabee met the tracker’s pain-filled gaze. “I don’t think anything’s broken, but you could have a
few cracked ribs.”

“Feels like it.”Tanner agreed and tried to turn his head to scan the room. “Are Matthew and Mrs.
Eckland alright?”

“There fine,” Chris replied, noting the others change of the subject.

“How ‘bout you?” Vin’s blue eyes scanned his brother’s haggard features.

“I’m not the one lying on the floor.” Larabee pointed out with a grin, which his brother attempted
to return.

“Good point.” Vin’s face suddenly grew grim. “What about J.D.? Did you all find him?”

Chris put a hand on the other man’s shoulder to still him. “The kid’s in town with, Buck.”

“And?” The tracker could tell by the look on the older man’s face that he was leaving something
out.

“And when I left he was doing alright.”

Vin relaxed some. “Then who was Reades talking about being shot?”

Chris tried to push away the anger that surged inside him with the memory of Standish taking a
bullet from Teague’s gun; but he wasn’t fast enough for Vin. The tracker easily read the guilt in
his brother’s eyes.

“Who?”

“Ezra,” Larabee finally replied, not meeting the younger man’s stare, but rewetting the cloth and
running it over Tanner’s face.
 
“Is he..?” Vin couldn’t bring himself to speak the unimagineable.

“I don’t know. They wouldn’t let me check on him. Teague just left him lying where he fell.”

"Old Ezra's as wiley as a fox," Vin took a pained breath. "I'm sure he's fine. Right?"

Chris nodded, unable to ease the distress he read in the younger man's blue eyes. "If any man can
beat the odds, it'd be Ezra."

Vin relaxed some, satisfied with the confidence his brother had asserted in their friend, but
flinched away when Chris touched his head. "Easy, I need to make sure there's no holes in that
thick skull of yours."

"Sorry," Vin mumbled, the pain in his body beginning to take a toll on him. "Guess it's a good
thing I inherited that part from the Larabee side, huh?"

"Yeah," Chris replied continuing his inspection. "I think your head is the only part of you that
wasn't hurt."

Tanner let a tired smile slip around his swollen lip. "Remind me to thank, Jon, when I see him
again."

Chris smiled and let his hand come to rest on the younger man's forehead. " Thank him? I say we
both guilt him in to taking us on a long vacation after this ordeal."

"Fishin'? I use to dream about going fishing with my Pa," Vin said softly, slowly surrendering to
the unconsciousness tugging at him.

"Anything you want," Larabee replied, letting his hand drop from the now sleeping man. "If we
make it out of this,partner, you can have anything you want."
 
*******************************************************

‘The inquiry into a dream is another dream.’-Lord Halifax.

*******************************************************

“Chris?” A low voice sounded through the light doze Larabee was lost in. It had taken him the
better part of an hour to finish tending to his brother's wounds and setting his fractured arm, but
he'd finally drifted off after Cora had put Matthew to bed. That couldn't have been more than a
couple of hours before.

“Chris!” The voice was more urgent this time, frightened almost, and it instantly snapped the
black-clad gunslinger back to reality.

“Vin?” It appeared that the tracker was still asleep, trapped in the throws of some nightmare and
the older man quickly reached out to grasp Tanner’s shoulder. “Come on, Vin. Wake up.”

“No! Griffeth don’t.” Vin struggled in his brothers grasp. “Chris!”

“Vin, I’m here. Come on, partner, take it easy.”

“Please, Chris. Help me.” The tracker was thrashing about, unable to shake the fever born
delirium.

Larabee took hold of both his brother’s shoulders this time and shook him. “Damn it, Vin. Wake
up.” He couldn’t stand to hear the fear in the younger man’s cries and he was more than a little
afraid , himself, that his brother may further his injuries.

Finally, with a startled gasp, the bounty hunter’s eyes flew open and Chris put a calming hand on
his forehead. “Easy, Vin. You’re alright. It was just a dream.”

“Chris?” Vin took a raspy breath.

“Easy. I’m here.”

Vin let his blue eyes remain locked on the other man, but he did relax back to the floor."You
alright?" The gunslinger searched the younger man's pale face.

“I’m so cold.”The tracker replied with an involuntary shutter.

“You’ve got a fever,” Larabee explained, turning to get one of the extra blankets Cora had
brought for him. “Must be from the break in your arm. The body fightin’ off infection.” He
draped the quilt across the shivering young man and and forced a smile. “That must have been
some nightmare. You ‘bout gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” Vin replied softly. “I haven’t had one of those since I was a kid.”

Chris shifted so that he was closer to the younger man. “Who’s, Griffeth?”

There wasn’t many men that Vin Tanner feared, but there was something in the way Vin had said
the name in his dream that made Larabee wonder if this person could be considered one of those.
And that made him anxious to know exactly what the man had done to his brother.

The bounty hunter lowered his eyes from Larabee’s intense gaze and settled them on the small
flickering flame of the lantern beside them. “Nobody.”

A hand on his shoulder caused Tanner to take another ragged breath and he turned back to face
the man he knew as well as he knew himself. Chris wasn’t going to let this go. “He worked at the
orphanage I was sent to,” Vin finally answered.

Larabee quietly watched the younger man, willing himself not to let his anger show. “Did he hurt
you?”

Tanner laughed bitterly, and then winced at the wave of pain the movement brought. Chris’s
hand tightened on his shoulder and it took a moment for him to speak again, but when he did, his
voice was much colder than usual. “He hurt a lot of people. Made him feel important, I guess.”

“He use to punish us by locking us in this little cellar.” Vin shivered again, and this time Chris
didn’t think it was from the physical cold. “Sometimes..,” the tracker paused, closing his eyes
and licking his dry lips before continuing, “ he’d leave me there for days.”

Chris squeezed his own eyes shut and let his head come to rest on the wall he was leaned against.
“I’m sorry, Vin.”

Larabee didn’t realize he’d said the words outloud until his brother replied. “Don’t be. You
weren’t there.”

The gunslinger opened his eyes to find his brother watching him. “I wish I had been. He wouldn’t
have touched you.”

Vin’s face darkened. “I’m glad you weren’t. Griffeth was a monster.”

“I just wish Jon would have found you. I wish..”

“Thing’s worked out,” Tanner cut the other man off. “That’s all that matters.”

The tracker’s features softened again, a semblance of his normal self. “You know, when I was
locked up by myself,  I use to dream about this?” Vin said sleepily, letting his eyes flutter close.

Chris sighed and put a hand to the younger man’s brow, “Really? And I thought my nightmares
were bad.”

“ Not ‘this’, exactly,” A frowned marred his brothers face and Larabee instantly regretted taking
Vin’s comment so lightly. It wasn’t like the younger man to talk about himself, especially
anything personal, and Chris suspected the strange remark had more to do with the fever raging
through the tracker’s body, than it did anything else. He picked up the cloth he'd had from before
and rewet it.

“What ‘exactly’ did you use to dream about, Vin?”The gunslinger asked, running the cool towel
over the other man's forehead.
 
Pain-dulled blue eyes blinked open and searched out Chris’s face, “About having a family.... a
brother.”

“I guess you didn’t bank on this, huh, Pard?” Larabee brushed a few strands of hair away from
the younger man’s sweat-covered brow.

Vin swallowed hard, “Being your brother’s worth it. Even for just a little while.”

Chris fought against the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. “Nothings worth you gettin’
hurt, Vin. Nothing.”

“My Ma use to tell me that some people were worth having in your life, no matter what it cost
you.” Vin shifted slightly and took a quick intake of breath as the movement pulled at the bruises
on his side.

“Take it easy, just lie still,” Chris said softly.

The tracker nodded, and closed his eyes again, “Do you think she was talking about Jonathan,
Chris? Do you think she felt that way ‘bout our father?”

Larabee sighed, wishing like hell he could get his hands on Reades. “I don’t know, Vin. Maybe.
He did give her you, after all. ”

“I felt that way ‘bout her.”Tanner’s voice was getting lower. “She was the only one that came
close.” Chris hadn’t even noticed that Vin had latched onto his hand until the bounty hunter’s
fingers tightened around his. “Til I met you.”

Larabee leaned closer to his brother, “I feel the same way, cowboy.” The gunslinger let a half
smile return to his face. “You should get some rest now. It’ll be mornin’ soon.”

“Chris?” Vin’s eyes opened again.

“Yeah?”

“You’ll be here when I wake up, right?”

Larabee squeezed the hand still in his. “I ain’t going anywhere, brother. I promise.”He watched
as the tracker’s eyes finally closed and the younger man’s breathing evened out before releasing
his grip on Vin. “I also promise that no one’s going to hurt you again.” Chris finally leaned back
against the cabin wall and let his own eyes drift close. “At least not while I’m still breathing.”

*******************************************************

Men have no natural weapon against fear, for it is born from deep within the dark reaches of
themselves and can only be destroyed by the light of another.

It is perhaps this phenomena that makes a person so vulnerable to the mercy of the mistress ,Fear,
when they are alone.

Unfortunately, Ezra Standish was most definitely alone.

The gambler had tried, unsuccessfully, to push himself up from the sandy ground he was
bleeding upon three times now. Each attempt bringing him nothing but a more severe, if that
were possible, searing pain to his left side.

On the fourth try, Ezra gave up and lowered himself back to the earth, rolling onto his back to
peer up at the orange and pink glow of dawn.

“If you’re in trouble, you’re alone.” The gambler muttered a favorite saying of his mother’s to the
sun, as it rose to greet him, and then laughed bitterly. Of course, he regretted the action
immediately, but thought it ironic that the words he’d just spoken should bring about as
much mental anguish as their vocalization had caused physically.

It had happened.

The unthinkable.

‘The’, Ezra Standish, had become what he feared most: dependent.

Not only had he grown quite comfortable with the relationship he held with the six other men
that made up the Magnificent Seven, it had become a facet of his character. A connection that he
expected to be there when he needed it, a life line of sorts, just as he could call on his luck at a
poker table, or his finesse in a con.

However, the bond he held with his friends wasn’t something he could manipulate or control like
a deck of cards, no, it was fate.  And fate could change on the drop of a dime. Who knew that
better than a man of chance.

And chances were, that this time, Ezra was all on his own.

It was unlikely that Vin Tanner would show up with his impeccable timing to save the day, or
that Nathan would appear with his medical bag to ease his suffering. Even the conscerned eyes of
one J.D. Dunne or the biblical reassurances of Josiah Sanchez would be a most welcome
respite.

But to Standish’s dismay, no one arrived. No calvary could be heard approaching in the early
morning silence. He was only left with his misery and of course, the slowly decomposing form of
the good Mr.Darcy.

The evidence of Reade’s viciousness was not lost on the gambler. It was quickly helping to
extinguish what little hope he still  held for himself and for Vin and Chris.

As bad as the pain was ,crashing upon him in small waves of agony, it did not compare to the
feeling of despair he felt at his failure to help his friends.

It wasn’t all together an unfamiliar feeling, to hold someone else above one’s own regard.
Standish had experienced the sensation several times since being joined with the unlikely group.
Before that though, it was definitely a virgin act, one he never hoped to consumate; but
now that he had, it seemed almost second nature.

But to be afraid... that was an emotion Ezra was unaquainted with.  Perhaps, he had never cared
enough to undergo such a useless sentiment, maybe he had never had anyone value him enough
before.

No matter the reason, Standish was now a prisoner to the cowardice one must feel when he fears
he is about to perrish.  To die alone.  And as a slight tremor racked the gambler’s frame, forcing
him to curl tighter in upon himself, he desperately wanted to call out for help. To ask for Vin or
for Buck. Or Chris. To see their faces, hear their voices, feel the bond between them.

The thought of just how rediculous that hope was brought a sad smile to the gambler’s face. A
smile he saw mimicked in the twisted grimace on Philip Darcy’s decaying features. And that
would be the last thing he saw, before the darkness claimed him.

*******************************************************

‘There is nothing that fear nor hope does not make men believe.’- Marquis de Vauvenargues

*******************************************************

“J.D., you don’t know for sure that Buck is in trouble.” Nathan Jackson tried to reason with his
young patient for about the tenth time that morning.

“I feel it.” The teen stated flatly, pushing past the healer to nearly stumble over his own two feet.
“All of them are in danger.”

“I know that nightmare scared you, but I can’t let you run off on your own in the condition you're
in.”

“What condition?” J.D. shrugged, swaying slightly as he bent down to pick up his boots.

Jackson reached out to steady him and sighed. “Buck and the others would want you to be safe.”

The small spark of clarity that had danced in the hazel depths before, now blazed with an
unmatched intensity. “And I need to know that their okay, Nate.”

The healer run a hand over his weary eyes and then pinned the kid with a hard look.
“You really believe they’re walking into a trap?”

The youth nodded. “It’s not only the dream. I remember something I heard one of the guys who
attacked me an’ Vin say. They said, something like that Chris was the fish they wanted, but
atleast they had the bait.”

J.D. rubbed at his throbbing temples. “I just wish I could remember the rest. It might give us a
clue.”

Nathan put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Don’t push it. Things’ll come in their own
time.”

A worried glance raised to meet the healer’s dark stare. “But what if its not in time to help the
others? What if my dream was right?” J.D. tried to push back the images of the nightmare.

Jackson let a small smile grace his features. “Then we’ll just have to catch up with them and
make sure that they’re alright, ourselves.”

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

The doctor pointed a finger at his patient. “Do you promise to do everything I say. Rest when I
say rest.”

“Do I of course.” J.D. frowned and then took a deep breath. “I mean, yes.”

Nathan sighed. “Buck is going to kill me.”

*******************************************************

‘What good mothers and fathers instinctively feel like doing for their babies is usually best after
all.’- Benjamin Spock

*******************************************************

“I should have turned him over my knee and let him have it right there in the stable.” Jon Larabee
swore through clenched teeth as he made his way back to his horse.

He and the rest of the small search and destroy party had just finished checking out the remains
of Vin and J.D.’s deserted campsite and were now about to hit the,practically non-existent, trail
once more.

“ ‘I’m going ,’ he said.” Jon grabbed his horse’s reins and swung himself into the saddle. “ ‘ I’ll
leave a trail,’ he said.” Larabee growled, turning his mount and giving the animal a small nudge
to get it started. “Mark my words, that boy and me are going to have a long talk just as soon as he
and his brother are safe. Where in the hell does he get that attitude from anyway?”

Buck started to answer that rhetorical question, but thought better of it when the familiar ice blue
eyes locked on him. “And you? I thought you were suppose to stay in town with young J.D..
Does no one do what they’re told around here?”

“Our group has never been one to go by the book, exactly.” Josiah Sanchez pushed his hat back
on his head a little. “Instinct may rule our actions, but our motives are just, I assure you,
Jonathan.”

“Sounds familiar.” Mathis Quinn pulled his black mare closer to Buck and Josiah. The stocky
older man rubbed a hand over his silver-streaked beard and a faraway gleam shown in his dark
blue eyes. “ Don't let Jonathan mislead you, boys. We were just as brash in our younger days.
Why there was one time ..”

“Matt,” Jon interrupted. “We don’t have time, nor do I have the patience, for one of your stories.”
A slow grin spread across Larabee’s face. “Although, I would gladly have you tell countless ones
to my sons when we get back to Four Corners. I think I would be just the sort of punishment
deserving of Christopher.”

“So you do think we’ll get our families back?” Frank Eckland’s soft voice wafted from the small
roan he was riding, not far behind Buck. The gunslinger turned, surprised at the question,
considering he hadn’t heard the slight, timid man say a word since catching up with the
others.

“Of course we will, Frankie.” It was Quinn who quickly replied.  Too quickly, perhaps. “Jon and
his friends know what they’re doing. Besides we have the Lord on our side.”

“Amen, brother.” Joshiah winked at the other preacher, who seemed to sit a little taller in his
saddle. He had been somewhat surprised to find another gunslinger turned man of the cloth, but
instantly took a liking to the holy man with the expressive face and unexhaustive speech.

“Besides, my Matthew will probably have his captors spell-bound by the time we get there. He’s
a charmer like his old Grandpa.” It was obvious the smile on Quinn’s face was forced, just as his
optimism was, but he was putting on a brave front for the other man’s sake.

“I just hope my Cora is alright. She’s a fragile woman.” Eckland spoke up again, pain easily read
in his green eyes.

“Vin’ll watch after her,”Buck assured, feeling a sense of despair, himself. “ If it’s in his power,
he won’t let nothing happen to any of them.”

“A chip off the old block,huh?” Matthis laughed. “Jonny was always defending those not able to
look after themselves. Like a shepherd protecting his flock.”

“Vin is better than I ever was,” Jon said tightly. “He deserves better than what he’s got.”

Joshiah ,picking up on the sudden deterioration in mood, decided to make a change of topic.
“What became of Mr. Darcy? Was he not able to make the trip?”

Quinn sighed. “I fear our friend has many obligations these days. His wife has been very ill and
his business extremely prosperous.”

“In other words, he couldn’t pull himself away from his money.” Larabee raised an eyebrow at
the other man. “Why gloss it over?”

“Judge not, lest you be judged, my friend.”

Jon shot the other man a cold look. “I wasn’t passing sentence, Matt. Only speaking the truth as I
see it.”

“Sometimes a man is blind to certain things.” Quinn looked from Chris and Vin's father to his
other old friend lagging behind.

“And sometimes he sees more than he wants to.” Joshiah suddenly stopped Genesis and his voice
held an edge that caused the other men to pull their horses to a hault also. The preacher pointed
to the sky.  “Buzzards.”

*******************************************************

‘Man should never fear the future, it is the past that often haunts him to the grave.’-Cass Smith

*******************************************************

“Chris?” Vin Tanner said the name, even before his eyes opened.

The hand on his tightened, but something was different. “Chris?” This time the tracker shook off
the remaining grip of sleep and tried to control the frantic beating of his heart as he focused on
the blurred image in front of him.

“It’s alright, Mr. Vin. I’m right here.”

“Matthew?” Vin struggled to push himself up to a sitting position.

“You shouldn’t be movin’ so much.” The little boy scolded. “Miss Cora said you needed your
rest.”

The bounty hunter looked down at his left arm that was splinted and strapped tightly to his chest,
trying to remember exactly what had happened to cause his body such agony. With clarity came
an overwhelming since of fear. “Where’s Chris?”

Matthew looked over his shoulder at the fastly approaching form of Mrs. Eckland and then back
at the tracker. “The bad guys took him.”

“What?!” Tanner tried to make it to his feet as a sense of panic washed over him. “When?”

“Please, Mr. Tanner.” Cora gracefully reached out to steady Vin. “Standing is not a task you
should be attempting so quickly.”

“The big ugly man took Mr. Chris when the sun came up.” The six year-old answered the older
man’s question.
 
“Teague?” Vin managed through clenched teeth, his worried eyes meeting Cora’s dark gaze.

The woman took the bounty hunter’s arm and carefully led her charge to a nearby chair. “He
refused to go at first. He didn’t want to leave you, but that bully threatened Matthew, so he had
no choice.”

“I promised him I’d take care of you.” Matty piped up, proudly. “Mr. Chris left me in charge,
‘cause I’m an older brother just like him.”

“Did...Teague...,” Vin’s breathing was becoming more labored. “ Did he ..say..why?”

“Matthew,” Cora spoke up. “Could you maybe get Mr. Tanner a glass of water, please.”

The little boy nodded and took off in a flash.

“Now, Mr. Tanner, Vin,” Cora laid her hand on the tracker’s shoulder. “Just try and take shallow
breaths, alright.”

The tracker closed his eyes and tried to force away the pain. “Did Teague say why he was taking
my brother?”

“If you’re asking me if he were planning on doing to him what was done to you,”the woman
shook her head, “I don’t believe those were his intentions.”

Vin opened his eyes, but still found it hard to breathe normally. “But he didn’t say anything?”

“He said that Mr. Reades wanted to talk with him.”

Against Mrs. Eckland’s protest, Vin pushed himself up onto shaky legs. “Well, I know all about
Reades’ conversations.”

“There’s nothing you can do, young man.” Cora’s eyes held a look of desperation and sympathy.
“Except get yourself killed.”

Vin gently pulled away from her light grasp and started for the front of the cabin. “If that’s what
it takes.”

The bounty hunter had only gone a few steps when the door was flung open and Chris Larabee
was shoved roughly into the room once more.

Teague dusted his hands on his breeches and flashed the tracker a grin. “Good to see you still
breathing, Tanner. It’ll  make our farewell more enjoyable.”

Vin didn’t reply but couldn’t help the quickening of his pulse, as sudden images of the night
before flashed through his aching head.

“Boss wants you ready in the next little while, Larabee.” The monster of a man turned his glare
on Chris who was slowly picking himself up off the floor. “And you best remember what will
happen if you don’t play nice today.”

The black-clad gunslinger ignored the comment, more concerned with his brother’s deteriorating
condition, but did hear the chuckle from the other man as he left them alone once more. Teague
was a walking dead man.

“Vin?” Larabee reached a hand out to steady the younger man, now swaying in front of him.

The tracker flinched slightly at the touch, but tried to speak between his ragged breaths. “You
alright?”

“I was going to ask you the same question.” Chris brought his hand up and lifted Vin’s chin so
that their eyes met. “How you doing?”

Tanner swallowed hard and tried to force a smile. “I think..I’m ..going to pass out.”

To punctuate that statement, the bounty hunter’s legs chose that moment to completely give out
and he would have hit the floor if Larabee hadn’t been there to catch him. “Easy, cowboy. I’ve
got you.”

“Thought Reades ..might..,” Vin tightened his hold on his brother and tried to talk as Chris eased
him to the floor.

“I’m fine,” the older man assured. “He just wanted to discuss travelling plans with me.”

“Travelin’?” Vin winced, as the older man made him lie back. “Where we goin’?”

Larabee avoided the tracker’s painfilled gaze as he gently checked the bruises his side. “You ain’t
going nowhere. The rest of us are going with Reades and his men.”

“Like hell..” Vin’s tried to sit up again but the sharp pain in his abdomen kept him where he was.
“I won’t stay behind,” he gasped, letting his defiant gaze meet his brother’s determined one.

Chris put a steadying hand on the other man’s shoulder. “You don’t have a choice. Those ribs of
yours need time to heal. You can’t ride no horse for any distance.”

“Then I’ll ride in the wagon.”

Larabee shook his head and chanced a glance over his shoulder at the other occupants. Cora and
Matthew were both sitting quietly on the bottom bunk watching them. It was as if they knew that
their fates had been sealed. “That ain’t what Reades wants, Vin. He wants you left here to tell Jon
and the others what he’s done.”

“What is he going to do?” The tracker watched his brother’s face cloud over and an emotion
shown in his eyes that he’d not seen often. Sorrow.

“He’s taking us to the river where his wife and son were killed.”

“No.” Tanner pushed at the hand holding him down, the picture of what Reades’ plan would
entail becoming much to vivid. *This isn’t happening.*

Chris tightend his grip and leaned in closer to Tanner, their foreheads almost touching. “I need
you to listen to me, Vin. No matter ‘what’ happens, you have to come out of this alright. Jon will
need you. The rest of the seven will need you.” Larabee swallowed hard. “And I need to know
that you’ll be okay.”

The tracker glared at his brother. “Damn you, Chris.  I can’t ..”

“Yes. You can.” The gunslinger cut the other man off, his blue gaze never wavering. He waited
until the tracker's eyes were locked on his. “You’re a Larabee.”

*******************************************************

‘Fear leads to anger. Anger to Hate. Hate to suffering.’- Yoda, Phantom Menace

****************************

“Damn,” Buck Wilmington swore as he watched several large black birds swoop and circle in the distance. “It’s got to be
something big.”

“Like a person ?” Eckland’s voice quivered with sudden fear.

“Don’t go gettin’ all excited, Frank. Let’s check it out first.” Jon stopped his horse and tried to reasure his friend, but the look
he gave Buck and Josiah relayed the worry his words hid.

The rancher nudged his horse and headed up the hill before them, Wilmington and the others right behind him.

The stench hit the riders like a runaway train as soon as they crested the ridge, and Josiah heard Frank lose his lunch.

“Oh no.” Buck pulled Aphrodite to a hault and practically jumped from his saddle as he caught sight of the familiar red coat.
“Ezra.!”

The gambler’s back was turned to the approaching men, but Philip Darcy’s decomposing body was facing them.

“Dear Lord,” Matthis breathed. “I think that’s Jack’s boy.”  Quinn stayed several yards away , but couldn’t help but to take in
the gruesome sight of what the elements could do to a person once they'd ceased to breathe.

Jon stopped at the dead man’s corpse, as Buck and Josiah pushed past him to make it to their fallen partner’s side. A sudden
twinge of hopelessness tugged at him as he stared down at his friend’s son. “Looks like he’s been here at least a couple of
days.” Larabee had to swallow back the fowl taste of fear that threatened to overwhelm him. He hadn’t really thought that
Warren would start killing so soon.

“Ezra’s alive.” Buck’s voice broke slightly with relief as he let his hand remain on the gambler’s neck.

“Thank God,” Josiah sighed, dropping to his knees on the other side of Standish.

“Looks like he was shot.” Wilmington eased his friend over and pulled off the scarf from around his own neck.

“Reverend Quinn,” Sanchez called over his shoulder. “We could use some water over here.”Josiah watched as the big man,
who was beginning to look almost as green as Eckland, nodded and turned to go back to his horse.

“Bring a couple of blankets, too, Matt.” Jon added, letting his eyes scan the area around them for any other victims. *Where the
hell were his sons.*

“Ezra.” Buck slapped lightly on his unconscious friend’s face. “Come on, pard. Can you hear me?”

There was no reply but the gambler did moan softly when Josiah rolled him over on his side once more to check his wound.
“Looks like the bullet went straight through.” Sanchez sent a quick thank-you up to the man above for the small miracles the
Seven seemed abudantly blessed with.

“But it looks like he's lost a lot of blood.”

“Here’s the water.” Matthis Quinn handed a canteen to Buck and offered Josiah a blanket. “I take it this young man is one of
your partners?”

“He is,” Josiah replied, solemly. “He was suppose to be following, Chris, incase there was trouble.”

“Which there was, damn’it.” Buck pulled his hat off and slammed it on the ground. “I knew I should have gone with them.”

Matthis laid a hand on the gunslinger’s shoulder. “I also blamed myself for not being there when Matthew was taken.” The
reverened took a deep breath, trying to calm his jittery nerves. “But then I realized that only God can know the consequences of
one's actions before hand.  And, although I righteously strive to be more like our great maker, I have no grand delusions of
becoming him anytime soon." A sad smile touched the older man's face and he released his hold on Buck. "So why berate
ourselves for being only what the Lord intended us to be. Human.”

“Well said, my friend,” Josiah commented softly, continuing his attempt at assessing Ezra’s condition.

Buck stood abrubtly. “God may have intended all of us to be human, but that sure as hell don’t explain people like this Reades
character.” Wilmington wasn't going to let his anger go so quickly. One look at the gambler’s too-pale features and it was like
tossing a lit match into a keg of gunpowder. “What the hell kind of man goes around kidnapping another's family, hurting kids,
and leaving people to the buzzards.”

Reverend Quinn sighed and let his eyes drift to where Jon was covering what remained of Jack Darcy’s child. “One driven by
hate , Mr. Wilmington.” Matthis turned his head until he could see the  hunched and haunted figure of Frank Eckland, who had
opted to keep his distance from the scene.  “A lost soul bent on revenge; and determined to bring suffering in his wake, I'm
afraid.”

*******************************************************

‘Children sweeten labors, but they make misfortune more bitter.’

*******************************************************

“But where are we going?” Matthew asked,with a huff. “And why isn’t, Mr. Vin, coming with us?”

Cora stopped her task of packing what little supplies they had, to look at the unhappy little boy. “I’m afraid our host, Mr.
Reades, did not give Chris that information.”

The woman used the back of her hand to swipe at some hair that had escaped her bun before turning dark eyes on the two men
on the other side of the cabin. “And , Mr. Tanner is not yet able to travel."

“But who’s goin’ to watch out for him iffin’ me and Mr. Chris are both gone?” Matthew crossed his arms across his chest and
gave the older woman a serious frown. “I really think I should stay here with him.”

Mrs. Eckland sighed and laid a hand on the six year-old’s head. “Vin seems very capable of taking care of himself, young man.”
Cora knelt down so that she was eye level with Matthew. “Besides, I’m sure he is very glad that you’ll be along to watch out
for, Mr. Larabee and me, since he is not well enough to do so himself.”

Matt looked over his shoulder to watch the two brothers for a moment before leting unsure blue eyes fall back on Cora. “He
looks awful sad.”

The woman sighed and forced a smile. “I’m sure his heart is very heavy.” Mrs. Eckland raised her hand and pushed some curls
out of Matthew’s eyes. “You know how hard it was for you to be taken from your father and mother?”

The little boy nodded. “And from Frankie, too.”

“Especially , Frankie.” Cora smiled sympathetically, her thoughts momentarily going to her own, Frank. “Well, Mr. Tanner is
going through that same kind of pain. Do you understand?”

“I think so.” Matt looked at the woman. “But I still wish we could all stay together.”

Cora pulled the little boy into a hug. “Me too, Matty. Me too.”

*******************************************************

‘A man’s dying is more the survivor’s affair than his own.’- Thomas
Mann

*******************************************************

“I don’t like this,” Vin hissed, as his older brother checked the bandage around his ribs once more.

“Sorry.” Larabee mumbled. “But this has to be tight.”

The tracker let his head fall back against the wall he was leaned on, and squeezed his eyes shut. “You know what I’m talking
about, Chris.”

The older man stopped what he was doing and let his gaze fall on the bounty hunter. The numerous bruises and cuts maligning
the younger man’s face caused a sudden clenching in his gut and he had to push back the anger to find his voice. “Vin?” he
breathed, calmly.

After a moment, Tanner raised his head and opened his eyes. “What?”

“You know I don’t like this either. But it ain’t like Warren is giving us any say in the matter.’

“I know that. But , atleast you could get a little mad. Maybe we could put a plan together. I could follow you all, or something
or...”

“No way.” Chris held up his hand and pinned his brother with a hard gaze. “If Reades even suspects that you are any kind of
threat to him, he won’t think twice about killing you.”

“So I’m just suppose to wait here while he takes you to fulfill this fool plan for revenge of his.”

Larabee kept his eyes locked on Tanner. “You wait for Jon and the others.”

Vin shook his head. “Why are you so sure that they’ll come?”

“Because, Reades has planned it that way from the beginning.” Chris took in the pale palor of the other man’s face and reached
out a hand to check his brow for any signs that the fever,from before, was returning. “How are you feeling, besides being mad?”

Tanner pushed the older man away and made to stand up. “Damn it, Chris! Stop treating me like a kid.”

Unfortunately, the sudden movement sent a lancing pain through his side, and he swayed on his feet; but Larabee caught him
before he fell.

“Stop acting like one,” Chris said softly, keeping a tight grip on the tracker , until he could lower him to the floor.

Tanner wrapped his one good arm aroung his mid-section and avoided his brother’s ‘I told you so’, gaze, as he let himself be
eased back against the wall. “Sorry I can’t be as accepting of your death as you,” Vin bit out between clenched teeth. “You
know what they say, it’s always worst on those left behind.”

Chris sighed, understanding all to well the validity of that statement , but not willing to rise to the bait. “Take some shallow
breaths. It’ll help with the pain.”

“I’m fine,” The tracker managed, getting his breathing under control.

“I know you are.” Larabee kept one hand on Vin’s shoulder. “But you know how much I love hearing myself talk.”

Tanner looked up at the gunslinger and couldnt’ help but to let some of his anger slip away. “This ain’t no time for you to go
gettin’ a sense of humor , cowboy.”

Chris smiled. “Better late than never.”

Vin winced. “Especially a bad one.”

The gunslinger caught his brother’s gaze and tightened the grip he had on him, his mood turning solemn once more. “I ain’t
planning on checking out anytime soon, Vin.”

“But, Reades has plans of his own.” The bounty hunter lowered his voice. “He’s going to kill you , Chris. All of you.”

“If that’s what he wanted, he’d have finished it before now.  He wants more,” Larabee replied. “And that’s what could give us
the chance we need.”

Tanner sighed in frustration and run a hand through his hair. “I don’t like taking them kind of chances with your life, Chris.”

“I know,” the gunslinger said, his voice almost a whisper. “The feeling’s mutual.”

Before more could be said, footsteps sounded on the small porch outside the cabin , and all eyes turned in the direction of the
door. It was no surprise when Reades entered along with Teague and two other gunmen; but Cora and Matthew still seemed
alarmed at their presence.

“I take it everyone is anxiously awaiting our day’s trip.” Warren winked at Mrs. Eckland before turning a cold smile on Tanner
and Larabee. “At least those of us who are going, that is.”

*******************************************************
 
‘It is difficult to say who does you the most mischief; enemies with the worst intentions or friends with the best
intentions.-Edward Bulwer-Lytton

********************************************************

“We need to get him to, Nathan.” Josiah’s words were barely out of his mouth when hoofbeats could be heard in the distance.

“Riders coming,” Jon Larabee’s voice carried on the wind, bringing the other men to instant alert.

“Just what we need,” Buck griped, going for his weapon. “Company.”

“Could it be some of Reades’ men?” Reverend Quinn squinted towards the cloud of dust that could be seen in the distance.

“It’s possible,” Josiah replied. “Perhaps you should go get Mr. Eckland and ready yourselves for the worse.”

“We can move Ezra to those rocks, there.” Buck pointed to the small collage of boulders that Standish and Chris had attempted
to use as protection the day before.

“I’ll help you.” Jon had abandoned his post at Philip Darcy’s side and now bent to grab the gambler’s feet. “We can use it as
cover, ourselves.”

Josiah nodded as he, as gently as time granted him, lifted his friend’s upper body and started for the sanctuary.

Buck rushed to retrieve the horses and to hurry Matthis and Frank along. “We need to move , boys. They’ll be cresting the hill
soon.”

“But I don’t have a gun.” Frank’s face and the tremble in his words were evidence that he was still in shock from finding Darcy.

“It’s alright.” Matthis laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You can use one of mine.”

Wilmington wasn’t sure giving Eckland a weapon was the best idea, but he was even less sure about the odds they were about
to face, so he didn’t voice his objection.

Looking back on the situation later, he would berate himself for that decision.

“How’s, Ezra?” Buck asked, joining Jon and Josiah behind their semblance of shelter.

“He’s still breathing,” Sanchez replied with a glance in the gambler’s direction. “The sooner we deal with this and get him to
brother Nate, the better he’ll be.”

“From your mouth to God’s ear’s, Preacher.” Jon Larabee pushed his hat back some and steadied his rifle across the rock he
was behind, “They’re coming.”

Buck cast a nervous glance to his right to see how Eckland and Quinn were fairing. The reverend seemed very confident, as if
the years since his experience as a gunman had been few; but Frank, that was a different story.

For the aging farmer, it appeared gunplay had never been a way of life. Sweat covered the slight man’s brow and his hand
shook even though he had a death grip on the revolver. His eyes were glazed over and Wilmington recalled seeing such
reactions from men in the war.

He was about to suggest that perhaps Eckland would be better watching over Ezra when Josiah nudged him.

“Does that horse look familiar to you, brother.”

Wilmington gave the preacher a puzzled look, but cautiously peered over one of the boulders, just the same. The riders were
still a ways off, but, sure enough,  the stark contrast of the black and white paint thundering towards them was unmistakeable.
“I be damned. That boy listens about as well as..”

Suddenly, Buck’s words were drowned out by the explosion of gunfire beside him. *Oh God.*

He and Josiah both flinched at the unexpected volley, but Wilmington reacted quickly by knocking the smoking gun from Frank
Eckland’s hands. Unfortunately , the damage had already been done.

“J.D.!” Wilmington and Nathan’s voices seemed to simultaneously resound in the afternoon air, as both Seven and his rider
tumbled backwards to the ground, in heartbreaking slow motion.

*******************************************************

‘Fear not that life shall come to an end but rather fear that it shall never have a beginning.’ -John Henry Cardinal Newman

*******************************************************

There are times in ones life when they feel utterly out of control of the situation that they find themselves emerged in. Like a
strung marionette in someone else’s perverse puppet show, their every move is dictated by another’s will.

It’s a sensation similar to that of hanging, suspended in mid-air by a mere thread, and knowing that there is no net below to
break your fall; nor is anyone waiting above to pull you up. In other words, you are helpless. This was the state Vin Tanner
found himself in now and he hated that feeling with a burning intensity.

It was a consciousness he had experienced early in life, after his mother had died. When no one had asked him what he wanted
to do , or barely given him a chance to register the fact that he was alone in the world, before sending him on his way to the
closest orphanage that the town preacher could find. No questions asked, no alternatives given.

 And once at the orphanage, a young Vin had experienced a whole new meaning of the word control, or lack there of.

Watching what the headmaster Griffeth did to the children there, what he himself experienced at his hands,  had taught him to
loathe people who thrived by stealing others’ power,  it instilled a hate for  those who gained by taking away their victim’s
freewill; and it indoctrinated with a despite for the tactic of victory by breaking the enemy’s spirit.

Silver Feather, his mentor, told him, much later in life,  that people of such sorcery were small and weak on the inside; and that
in order to sustain their own internal flamet, they had to vanquish another.  Vin knew this was how it must be for Warren
Reades, because the smug look on his face as he marched his prisoners outside to the awaiting wagon, was one of pure
enjoyment.

“If you wish, I can give you a moment to say your farewells to your brother, before we leave, Larabee.” Warren eyed the two
men before him. “It was more consideration than I was given with my family, but I am not a cruel man, by nature.”

“This ain’t over,Reades.” Vin said coldly. “I’ll track you to the ends of the earth if I have to.”

Chris who had helped his brother out of the cabin, tightened his grip on the younger man, as if to discourage any foolish thoughts
the bounty hunter could be contemplating. “Don’t waste your breath on him, Vin.”

Warren stepped closer and locked gazes with Jon Larabee’s youngest son. “You best listen , young Larabee. I wouldn’t want
your last words to your brother to be shortened by your bad health.” A cold, calculating grin registered on their tormentor’s
face. Because, mark ‘my’ words, son. The next time you see him, the only conversing you’ll be doing is, perhaps saying a few
kind phrases over his casket.”

Chris could feel the tremors of rage, quaking through the trackers body and feared another incident like yesterday’s was about
to occur. He manuevered himself between the two men and faced Warren, with a passive expression. “Could you leave us
alone a moment?”

After a short consideration, Reades tipped his hat to Vin and turned to usher the others towards the wagon, while Teague stood
barely twelve feet from them, ready for any tricks they may pull.

Larabee took his brother by the arm and stepped a few more feet away, going as far as he dared, with the big black man
watching them, like a cat eyeing its prey. “What the hell did you think you were doing back there, Vin.” Chris asked, harshly.
“It’s not like you to lose your cool. I’m beginning to think you’ve caught J.D.’s condition of letting your mouth run off without
your brain.”

The tracker pulled out of the other’s grasp and met the questioning glance with a look of pure despair. “I don’t know what’s got
into me. I guess being kidnapped, nearly beat to death, and then  watching your brother be led off like some cow to slaughter
does strange things to a man, Chris.”

The gunslinger sighed and ran a hand through his hair, letting his gaze focus on his boots. “I wish I could say or do anything to
make matters different , Vin. Any other time that you’ve been in pain, or in trouble, I would have gladly taken your place.
Endured your suffering, without a second thought; but now..” the gunslinger raised his eyes, “now I can’t say the same.”

“Because to do so, to even wish it, would mean I’d be willing to let you go. To know what it was like not to have you around. I
just couldn’t do that.” Larabee reached out a hand and let it rest on the back of the tracker’s neck. “I’m sorry, but I’m glad
you're staying here. No matter what happens, I’ll take comfort in knowing you’re alright.”

Vin slowly shook his head. “This ain’t 'right' , Chris. I knew our time would be up one day, ‘specially with the Seven’s nact for
finding trouble, but this, this is way too soon to be saying good-byes.”

“Maybe,” the gunslinger gravely acknowledged. “But just in case, they're somethings I want you to know.”

Tanner started to object. He had no mind to listen to ‘last words’ from his brother. But something in the other man’s eyes, kept
him quiet.

So, Chris continued. “If things don’t work out, and Reades finishes his plan, don’t blame yourself.” Larabee tightened his grip
and pulled the younger man closer to him. “You saved my life a long time ago, cowboy.”

“Even before I knew you were my brother, you were the best thing that had ever happened to me.” Chris kept his hand on the
back of the tracker’s neck and leaned in so that the two men's forehead's were almost touching.

There was so much he wanted to say, needed to say. And so little time. “You gave me back a part of myself I thought I’d lost
forever; and created a side entirely new. Most of all, you were my friend, in ever sense of the word.  For that, I’ll never be able
to repay you.”

Vin lifted his gaze to meet Larabee’s intense stare, and kept his voice to barely a whisper. “ Just promise me this ain’t the end,
Chris. Promise you’ll stay alive ‘till we get to that river.”

The gunslinger smiled slightly, but his tone was serious. “People like us don’t end, cowboy. What we have is something that
even death can’t take away.”

“Time’s up, Larabee.” Teague’s cold voice sounded from behind Chris and he felt the gunman take hold of his arm to pull him
away from his brother, whose pleading blue eyes remain locked on him.

“Chris?” Vin’s voice broke, ever so slightly, as the older man lost contact.

Before Warren’s henchman could stop him, the gunslinger reached out and grasped the tracker’s arm. “I promise, Vin. ” Thier
gaze conveyed what else needed to be said, in a way they were familiar with. “I promise.”

“Put the bounty hunter in the ice house.” Reade’s orders sent a chill down Chris’s back.

“That’s not necessary, damn it.” Larabee whirled to face the enemy. “He’s not able to follow us. Just leave him in the cabin.”

Warren shrugged, as if in apology. “Sorry, Christopher, but the cabin isn’t an ideal quarantine without a guard. The ice house
will be much more suitable.”

“And much colder.” Teague grinned and gave Chris a viscious shove towards the others and away from Vin.

Larabee almost lost his footing but managed to stay on his feet, only to have a rifle pointed at him, by a another of Warren’s
men, when he made an attempt to go after the burly man who had turned his attention to the tracker.

“Come on, Tanner. I’ll escort you to your new home.” Teague jerked the bounty hunter roughly to his side, and even though he
tried, Vin couldn’t surpress the gasp of pain that escaped.

Chris clenched his fist and made a silent vow that Warren’s favorite guard dog would be the first he killed.

The monstrous goon cast a gloating look over his shoulder, as if he could read the gunslinger’s thoughts, before tightening his
grip on Vin’s broken arm and giving it a merciless yank.

The tracker gritted his teeth and fought not to give his captor anymore satisfaction,or his brother any more worry, but again his
body betrayed him and he cried out in agony.

Larabee couldn’t refrain any longer and started after Teague, not caring what the consequences were. He refused to let the
bastard get anymore sick pleasure by hurting Vin.

The shot of the gun echoed in the morning air and startled everyone. Birds arose with a flutter from the surrounding trees, Cora
screamed, and Chris Larabee hit the ground, unconscious before his body touched the dirt.

*******************************************************

Continued in....Part 11