And now he had the added weight of knowing he'd worried Nettie not only about J.D., and possibly Vin, being ill, but with knowledge that the small boy was wandering around lost and alone. His instincts had wanted to stay and comfort the boys' surrogate grandmother, instead all he could do was leave her behind with nothing to do but sit and wait. To be there should J.D. still happen by, no matter how unlikely that possibility seemed. And more importantly, to be there for Vin when Josiah returned with him.

And he would return with Vin.

Josiah refused to even consider the possibility that Vin had been struck ill, too. Surely there would have been word from Chris. So he prayed yet again that J.D. was safe, if lost, under God's watchful eye. Yet logic and experience told him that sickness was the only possible explanation to account for J.D.'s disappearance.

He turned his gaze heavenward once again and spoke to his maker. "Lead me quickly to their path, oh Lord. And please guide the littlest one home."

+++++++

"Is he gonna be all right?"

Vin's plaintive tone squeezed Chris's heart and he was grateful that his answer would bring a smile to the boy's face once again.

Just as Vin had insisted the night before, they had departed early, just after breakfast and they had been making excellent time home. Until they'd veered off the road for a quick rest-stop. Despite its frequent use by travelers, the path to the watering hole was uneven and when Vin's pony had taken a minor stumble, it immediately started favoring a foreleg.

Chris had suspected it was just a stone bruise or something of the like and now, upon closer inspection, he was pleased to see that he was right. He'd double up with Vin, and lead the pony home. They'd still be home by afternoon, likely providing a welcome surprise for Buck and J.D.

"He's ok, Vin. Just a bruise. Nothin' to worry about," he replied, instilling all the confidence he could muster into his most fatherly of voices. The tactic worked and Vin beamed with relief and joy as he wrapped both arms around his pony's neck in a fairly good imitation of a Buck Wilmington hug.

"Hear that?" The boy spoke soothingly to the little gelding as he ran a skinny arm along its sturdy neck. "Chris says you're gonna be fine."

Chris swallowed reflexively at the certainty in the boy's voice. It still unnerved him at times to know that his word had become nearly gospel in the eyes of the child. That the boy whose whole being initially had radiated mistrust of the words and deeds of adults, had grown to trust him and Buck so implicitly.

"He will be just fine, son, but what say you ride double with me the rest of the way home? Give him a break, all right?"

"All right," Vin shrugged and Chris had to laugh at the obvious disappointment. So much for the days of Vin eagerly clinging to his back. The kid's independent streak was showing itself and, as much as Chris would never admit aloud that he missed those times of paternal closeness when they rode together, he was truly pleased to see that the boy was growing some attitude.

He just hoped that his attitude would be tempered with plenty of good sense as he grew older. J.D., with his wild imagination and bolder personality, was going to be enough of a handful.

Just as his thoughts turned homeward yet again, a voice from home, calling his name, shattered the tranquillity those thoughts usually inspired.

Josiah.

Chris knew that bearing, that size and most definitely that distinctive booming voice anywhere. But it was what Larabee heard within that voice – the urgency and perhaps even dread – that had the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Something was wrong. Josiah wouldn't be out here looking for him otherwise.

"It's Josiah!" Chris fairly jumped at the shrill sound of Vin's excited voice, forgetting in his apprehension for an instant that Vin was even there with him.

The boy stayed put though, dutifully holding onto his pony's bridle, apparently as eagerly awaiting Josiah's approach as Chris was dreading it. "Vin?" He spoke softly to the boy, trying to will the quiver in his voice away. When he had drawn the boy's attention away from the incoming rider he continued. "Why don't you go water your pony one more time? I expect Josiah's here on business, all right?"

Vin nodded, looking more than a little annoyed that he was being kept from whatever business Chris and Josiah had to attend to. He called out a greeting to the big man and reluctantly led his little gelding back toward the watering hole.

It was the hell of being a kid, Chris knew, but he neither had the time nor the inclination to appease the boy at that moment. As long as Chris and Buck were lawmen, J.D. and Vin were going to be excluded from some of the harsh realities that their fathers had to deal with.

+++++++

"Trouble?"

It was the closest thing to a greeting Josiah was going to get and if Chris's tone sounded grim, it paled in comparison to the expression on the older man's face as he nodded once in the affirmative.

Josiah had reined his horse to a stop in front of the younger man, his intention to stay mounted another clear indication to Larabee of the urgency that drove him.

"Chris, we have to get you home. J.D.'s gone missing."

It took more than a few beats for Sanchez' words to register in Chris's mind. He'd been selfishly hoping that trouble in town would be the reasoning behind his fellow lawman's search for him. If he wanted to be honest with himself, concern for the already injured Buck had been the first thought that had flashed through his mind, but his faith in his best friend's resilience, plus good old fashioned denial, had almost quashed any of those disturbing thoughts. Never in a million nightmares would he have considered that the baby of their family, that J.D., would be at the root of the torment so clearly etched in Josiah's expressive face.

An expression mirrored in his own features as he finally acknowledged his friend's words. "What? What happened?" But before Josiah had the chance to answer, Chris gave voice to another equally upsetting thought. "Where's Buck?" He fairly demanded.

Whether he was damn near crippled or not, Buck Wilmington would die before he'd let anything happen to J.D. To anyone he loved. Larabee was as certain of that fact as he was the day was long. Dear God, had something happened to them both? It wasn't possible. He just couldn't go on another trip and come home to face a living hell. Not again. He couldn't lose his family like that again.

"Chris, you hearin' me? Like I said, Buck's worrying himself straight into a wheelchair and he needs you home. Are you all right, brother?"

No, he wasn't all right. Obviously. He was standing there like a damn fool, not paying attention to Josiah and instead allowing his mind into thinking the worst. Not knowing any of the facts and already wallowing in grief so bad he was ready to head straight for a bottle of Red Eye. Selfish bastard. Buck was alive, thank God, but he had to be hurting inside and out; poor Vin still had to be told that his little cousin was missing, and J.D. . .

And J.D. was going to be found.

+++++++

Sorrow came in waves, crashing Buck into despair like a wooden raft in a stormy sea. He had never felt desperation like this. Not even when his beloved mother died. Not even when he and Chris had found Sarah and Adam murdered. At least in death there was finality. When someone was merely missing, there were too many horrible scenarios the mind could conjure up. Poor J.D. Alone, sick and cold and scared out of his wits while his self-appointed protector fumbled around helplessly. He knew J.D. wasn't dead. He refused to accept even the thought that his little boy was lost to him forever.

Buck could hear the steady rush of the stream as they moved closer and he trembled from more than the cool breeze. J.D. had been warned countless times never to go near the creek without an adult, especially at night. He'd been so confident that J.D. understood the danger and wouldn't disobey him that he didn't see a need to search along the water's edge.

Now they didn't have a choice. J.D. was nowhere close to the cabin and the creek was the only place left where they hadn't turned over every rock and stick yet. Terror clawed at his heart at the thought that the child could have gotten turned around, wandered too close in the darkness and slipped into the cold water. Not that the idea hadn't insisted on invading his mind already, but actually seeing the creek brought forth a nightmare of vivid scenarios that nearly made him retch. No. He wouldn't give in to that kind of thinking. J.D. was too smart to fall into the stream. He was all right, he just needed someone to find him.

"J.D.!" Buck heard the precious name echo across the clearing and sucked in a short breath as the muscles in his back spasmed again.

"You hard-headed fool." Nathan's voice pierced through Buck's thoughts as he pitched forward and caught himself on a lone sapling. "You need to rest before I hafta carry you."

Buck shook off the dizziness and the pain and continued on. They'd been looking for hours now, but he had to keep searching in spite of his body's insistence to shut down. How could he rest with J.D. out here? How could he seek shelter and warmth when the one he loved more than life itself didn't have either?

"I'll rest when we find him. And right now you rootin' around behind me ain't helpin' J.D." Buck knew his words came out too harshly, but he didn't care. He didn't have the strength to apologize or the will to do anything more than find J.D.

Nathan let out a frustrated grunt, but Buck could tell he understood. They'd wasted too much daylight already. It's just that Buck couldn't for the life of him figure out why J.D. had took off. He wouldn't have run away, wouldn't have gone looking for Vin or Chris or tried to go into town alone. Which left only one logical and frightening alternative. That J.D. had been hallucinating and wandered away without realizing what he was doing. Nathan had tried to keep that from him, but Buck had heard him mention it to Josiah earlier and now it haunted his every thought. He should have stayed awake, should have made sure the cabin door was latched more securely, but he never thought J.D. going outside was even a possibility. J.D. was a mischievous kid, but he was also too thoughtful and much too tender-hearted to run off.

"Buck." Nathan whispered.

The quiet tone sent chills along Buck's spine as he followed the healer's gaze. He stood transfixed as his eyes focused on the toe of a small boot poking from underneath a clump of thick brush. His breath caught in his throat and he felt his head swim in panic as he dropped heavily to his knees.

Nathan scrambled toward the undergrowth, throwing aside the web of tangled branches until he reached the tiny body and scooped him into his arms.

"Oh, no. Oh, dear God, no." Buck crawled toward them, the pain in his back incomparable to the one in his aching heart. "Nathan?"

Fear spurred him on and he pulled the precious bundle out of Nathan's grasp and hugged J.D. against his chest. He could feel the child's warm breath on his neck and the steady rhythm of his heart against his. His boy was still alive. Thank you, God, oh, thank you, God! Buck rocked J.D. back and forth in his arms and planted a grateful kiss on the little boy's forehead. "J.D., wake up for me, son. Wake up please."

Nathan hovered close, his broad hand cupping the child's pale face before gently shaking the tiny shoulder. "J.D., do what Buck tells you now. Open your eyes, boy."

Dark eyes struggled apart and J.D. stared back at them, his gaze mirroring confusion and relief. Buck's soaring emotions made him unsure whether to burst into tears or laughter. "That's my boy."

"She said you'd find me." J.D. whispered hoarsely, his eyes drifting shut as he coughed. Buck smiled sadly as J.D. touched his father's cheek, alarmed at the iciness of the boy's fingers.

"We've got to get him inside, Buck." Wilmington looked up into Nathan's concerned face and wondered how long he'd been trying to get his attention. He tried to stand up, but the burning strain in his back refused to let his legs work. It was going to be hell just getting up, much less with a child in his arms.

"I got him, Buck."

Nathan gently lifted J.D. from him, pulling the dirt-covered nightshirt up around the slight shoulders and then stuck out his hand. Buck felt like a complete cripple, but J.D. came first so to hell with pride. He didn't resist and let Nathan help him to his feet. "Go on, hurry, just take care of him."

Buck watched Jackson disappear among the trees, his precious burden tight against his chest. Buck limped slowly, using the thick branches as a crutch to guide him up the slight hill, his hearing finally registering the pounding beat of horse's hooves coming up along the roadway behind him. He would have turned to look, to identify the rider as friend or foe, but his seizing back just wouldn't let him. Instead he simply concentrated on the act of putting one foot in front of the other. A task that was proving more and more daunting as his battered body continued in its quest to shut down.

The ebony blur of an all but rearing gelding suddenly appeared in his periphery, its rider leaping off and wrapping a supporting arm around Buck's shoulders, just as Buck felt his knees and back finally give out.

"Whoa there. Hang on, I gotcha." He knew the voice of course, but his head was spinning so bad at that moment he couldn't for the life of him figure out how it was that his best friend had suddenly appeared when he was so desperately needed.

Later. He'd remember to ask Chris later.

Weak from pain and exhaustion and the lingering remnants of terror and relief of finding J.D. alive, Chris's stalwart presence couldn't have been more welcome.

He had someone to lean on now. Someone who understood not only the agony he'd suffered, but who understood him. Now all he had to concern himself about was his boy.

Nathan shoved open the door to the cabin with his foot and quickly made his way into Buck's room. He lay the little boy on the bed, stripping him out of his damp and filthy nightshirt and socks. J.D. let out a hoarse cry as a forceful cough wracked through him. He clutched at his throat as tears squeezed past the corners of his eyes, his face red from the effort.

"Relax, J.D. Settle down, you're all right now." The healer rubbed the child's chest, trying to soothe him until the coughing spell passed. He could feel the deep rattle underneath J.D.'s breastbone and he hoped the unknown hours J.D. had spent in the night air hadn't given him pneumonia – an idea he didn't really want to bring up with Buck. Not until he was sure anyway.

Nathan finished undressing the boy and quickly tucked the pile of soft blankets around his shivering body. J.D. stared up at him, eyes wide with confusion as he tried in vain to voice his fears and only managed another cough.

"Shhhhh, son, it's ok, you're safe."

He carefully pressed around J.D.'s neck, his practiced touch feeling the slight swelling on each side. "Open your mouth for me, all right?" Nathan gently pried open the child's lower jaw carefully. J.D. twisted his head away from him, his mouth clamping down like a steel trap. Nathan had long ago learned the hard way that no matter how sweet and good-natured a child might normally be, all bets were off when they were hurting.

The sound of shuffling feet and indistinguishable, yet distressed, voices announced Chris and Buck's entrance as they made their way into the room. Chris moved a chair to the head of the bed and helped Buck lower himself unsteadily into it. Jackson had witnessed Larabee's arrival, too preoccupied with J.D.'s needs to acknowledge it at the time. He'd been relieved to know though that he now had an extra pair of capable hands to help him look after both of his patients.

J.D. coughed violently again, his small body curling up in a ball as he struggled to catch his breath so he could do it again. Buck flinched in sympathy and undoubtedly from his own pain as he leaned in as close as possible to the sick child. He smoothed the wayward fringe of bangs clinging to J.D.'s face, making gentle circles with his thumb on the little boy's temple.

"What do we do?" Buck asked, his eyes never leaving J.D.

"You, just keep doin' what you're doin'. Chris, I need you to get him some clean night clothes, put a kettle on the stove, and get some more wood for the fire, we don't want this room gettin' too cold."

Chris nodded then paused, his hand dropping to J.D.'s head, long fingers gently raking through the child's silky hair before leaving the room. The motion was brief, but it spoke volumes about the rancher's love for the youngest member of their family. Yeah, Nathan thought, Chris might be a feared gunslinger in town, but here, with either of those boys, he could easily be reduced to a pile of mush.

+++++++

Nathan eased his way out onto the cabin's front porch, closing the door quickly behind him to prevent the evening's chill from entering the tiny abode and drifting its way into the bedroom that housed his two resting patients.

The fire was blazing within and he almost wondered how Buck could bear the room's warmth combined with J.D.'s feverish body curled up next to his.

Then again, he knew.

Buck Wilmington would think nothing of suffering the flames of Hades itself in order to keep his boy safe. Had already done so. Surely any man having to endure the horror of a sick and missing child, together with the searing agony of a sprained back and bruised ribs, could lay claim to time already spent in purgatory.

In the healer's lifetime, he'd born witness to or experienced Hell in all its fiercest forms. Still, nothing compared to a parent's loss of a child.

A truth Chris Larabee knew devastatingly too well. And as Nathan crossed the length of the wooden porch and approached the man, he breathed a prayer of thanks that his friend would not have to face that same grief for a second time.

Though Nathan was sure his friend had heard his exit from the cabin, he hadn't visibly reacted to his arrival, seemingly rivetted to the view just beyond the meadow and out into twilight's remaining horizon.

Nettie's place lay unseen along that path and Jackson understood that Chris was undoubtedly torn.

"He needs you more than Vin does right now, Chris." Nathan spoke softly, but assuredly. The boy was in good hands. Nettie was kin and loved him and J.D. dearly. She'd look after Vin until the entire family could be reunited once again.

"Hmm?" Chris responded, still looking out into the vista before them.

"Vin. You know he's fine with Nettie," Jackson repeated but, as he watched Chris smile sadly and nod his head in agreement and recognized the sparkle of mist in his eyes, he realized that Chris hadn't been envisioning the Welles' ranch. He'd been looking beyond. Into the past.

Chris straightened, seemingly shrugging off a weight he'd recently just borne and turned an intense gaze toward Nathan. "You really think J.D.'s gonna be all right, Nathan?"

Jackson was relieved to hear hopefulness rather than pleading shape his friend's tone. "Sure as I can be, Chris. Can't 'xplain it none. Don't know how a child with fever so high he goes wanderin' off in the night can be gettin' better not worse. Whether bein' out in the cold's what's kept his fever from going too high or J.D. havin' his wits about 'im to go and find some shelter or. . ." With a minor wave of Chris's hand, Nathan stopped his speculating, knowing full well how futile second-guessing fate could be.

The rancher's next words echoed Jackson's thoughts.

"Or why God spares one child while another dies?"

"I'm sorry, Chris." Dark brown eyes lowered momentarily and then raised to meet green eyes that were surprisingly clear. Not quite free of the hurt and pain always lurking in their depths, but remarkably alight – with relief, if not quite joy.

"'S all right, Nathan. I'm all right." Chris smiled, faint, but there. "You were right, Vin's gonna be just fine with Nettie until he can come home. Though, with Buck holding on to J.D. like he'll never let go, I really don't think he needs me anymore than Vin does right now."

Nathan smiled more broadly than Chris, shaking his head as he did so. As soon as Chris spoke the words, the healer was certain his friend had realized his mistake. Nathan knew every bit as well as Chris did that, as long as he was in his papa's arms, J.D. didn't need anyone other than Buck. But then, Nathan hadn't been talking about J.D.

+++++++

Buck could still feel the stinging pull in his back, but he didn't care. Now that J.D. lay tucked securely against his side, the pain no longer mattered. Buck relaxed into the softness of his pillow, turning carefully to bury his face into the little boy's silky hair. The smell of dried leaves and dirt lingered in his nose, but it was sweeter than roses in sunshine or a woman's perfume.

"Best get some sleep now, Buck." It was amazing how Nathan's voice could sound so soothing yet threatening at the same time. Buck summoned the strength to cut his gaze toward his friend and smile.

"Go on now." Nathan said as he spread the coverlet over Buck's lower body and the sleeping child in his grasp. "J.D. ain't goin' nowhere this time. Got plenty of babysitters watching over the both of ya."

Buck knew his friend meant well, but the truth was he knew he'd let J.D. down. He should have been safe alone with him, but the child could have died. Buck couldn't let go of that nagging guilt. He would have never accepted that kind of irresponsibility from anyone else and he sure as hell couldn't accept it from himself.

The hot sting of tears released themselves from his eyes as he ran his fingers through J.D.'s thick locks. He would have died too if the boy had been lost forever. Taken his life by his own hand before he let himself live one day longer than his son. Now he knew. The anger, the mind-numbing pain Chris had felt when he'd realized his family was gone. Hopeless despair like that couldn't be imagined on the outside. And now Buck understood why Chris had to put at least some of the blame on Buck's shoulders. . . or die.

Buck didn't try to quell his tears. Didn't care that Nathan was probably still in the room. His eyes, his heart, focused only on the tiny boy in his hold. J.D. let out a raspy cough and Buck winced as he stretched enough to rub the child's back. Hoping his touch would be enough to ease J.D.'s sickness.

"Ain't your fault."

The words seemed to come from inside his head, but Buck knew. This time it was Chris who needed to comfort him. To try to make sense of something that never would. Buck couldn't answer. He continued to stroke J.D.'s hair, losing himself in the mere closeness of the child's being.

"Things happen. Ain't always fair, ain't always what's supposed to, but ain't much we can do about it."

Buck let his friend's words sink in. He knew he was right. Mostly anyway. Except that didn't make the blame any easier to take. Didn't change the fact that he'd almost lost his son due to his own carelessness. "Something I coulda done about it."

He met Chris's intense stare, challenging him to refute that piece of reasoning. To explain to him why this was just a 'thing that happened' when everyone knew it was Buck's failings.

"Yeah, I guess you coulda sat up all night, watched his every move. You coulda tied a bell around his neck, or better yet, you coulda just reined him to the bedpost. He wouldn't've gone nowhere then."

Buck clenched his teeth, not ready for logic, not wanting exoneration. "I coulda made him go with you. I coulda realized what I want ain't always what's best. I was selfish, Chris. Sure, I wanted him to have a good time, but deep down I was thrilled he wanted to stay home with me. Hell, I didn't want to let him out of my sight. And it almost cost him his life."

"I reckon we coulda forced him to go with us. Let me take a scared, sick and bawling child on a long ride without his hurt papa. Maybe it's my fault for going anyway, Nathan's fault for not babysitting with the both of you, Josiah's fault. . ."

"Damn, it, Chris. Just stop."

"And let you hang on to all that guilt for yourself?"

"Now you're just not making no sense."

"Well, you're right about that. It was an accident, Buck. Nothing more, nothing less. You know as well as I do if you'd had an inkling this coulda happened you'd have stopped it. But you had no reason to expect J.D. would leave in the middle of the night." Chris's voice trailed off, his eyes misting over as he leaned in closer. "Just like neither of us believed spending one more night would make any difference."

The reference to "that" night sent a deep shiver through Buck's aching body. Tragedy could, and usually did, befall people in the blink of an eye. Even if he could keep J.D. within reaching distance of him his whole life, that wouldn't be fair. Neither would it be any guarantee.

"I know." Buck's words caught in his throat, but he knew that Chris understood. That they both did. He just needed a hefty dose of reality sometimes to sink through his thick skull. "You're right."

Chris nodded, a slight smile creasing his lips as he gazed down at the sleeping tyke still wrapped in Buck's arms. "Just hold on to the miracle, not the tragedy."

Chris exited quickly. Buck suspected the man was near his breaking point and didn't want to share his own grief with anyone else. Buck understood. He inhaled deeply, allowing his friend's words to softly settle over him, the truth of their wisdom wrapping him and his child in a cocoon of warmth and security.

Releasing a sigh of contentment, he closed his eyes as he felt fresh tears spring anew. His boy's breaths echoed his own, the murmured "papa" accompanying them proof that God and heaven exist and that J.D. indeed was his miracle, safely held in his arms.

+++++++

Christmas day came and went without snow and without the excited voices of two small boys who had probably never had a decent holiday before. Chris leaned back in his rocking chair, his neglected evening coffee growing cold as he stared at the modest tree and the array of colorful packages underneath it. Though almost forgotten in the uproar and horror of finding out J.D. was missing and ill, his and Vin's newest purchases were now nestled in amongst those lovingly made or bought by Buck, Chris and their fellow regulators. Gifts that should have already been opened to excited squeals and satisfied laughter as J.D. and Vin played until way past bedtime.

Instead he listened to the quiet crackle of the fire and the soft humming as Josiah made a fresh pot of coffee and some chicken broth for J.D. So far the little guy had been improving steadily, eating a little and taking Nathan's medicines without too much contention. His fever had broken sometime during the afternoon, but he remained fussy and clingy, refusing to let Buck out of his sight. Buck had been persuaded to leave the sleeping youngster just long enough to join his friends at the table. Getting up and moving seemed to lighten the man's spirits until J.D. awoke in the growing darkness, screaming pitifully for both Buck and his mama. Nathan said he was reacting to the fever and the trauma of being lost, that he'd eventually get better. Right now though, Buck refused to be parted from the little boy unless one of them was there to take his place. Chris knew Buck's trauma too, shared in it, so he didn't push; just let them be close to each other for as long as they needed.

Josiah moved in quietly and refilled Chris's mug with steaming coffee. "Did you have a nice visit with Vin this mornin'?"

Chris nodded. He'd spent a few hours with Vin after Nathan assured him that it was highly unlikely for him to pass along quinsy. Just as he and Nathan had believed, Vin had been doing perfectly fine in Nettie's care. The woman's steadfast attitude providing the boy with a soothing sense of calm and faith and her industrious mind giving the boy plenty of chores to distract him as the time passed slowly by. Though, when it came time to leave, it wasn't easy for him to explain to the older boy that he couldn't come home yet to see his sick cousin or that the Christmas they'd all planned to spend together would have to be postponed. Like all of them, Chris had hoped to wake up this morning to find J.D. wide-eyed in front of the tree and Buck grinning like one of the kids as he hurried him to fetch Vin so they could all open presents together. That just wasn't to be. Not yet.

"Yeah, but looks like Christmas might have to wait on us this year."

Josiah nodded knowingly. "I'm sure the Lord won't mind."

And in the end, neither did Chris. As long as his family was split up as it was, Christmas could wait. Because the holiday simply wouldn't be the same, or mean near as much, if they all couldn't spend it together.

Taking a sip from the mug in his hold, Larabee swallowed hard at the strength of the brew and at the equally strong memories of Christmases past his thoughts were invoking. A year ago he'd have bet against Ezra that the holiday would forever mean nothing more to him than heartache. A day of celebration for others that, for him, only brought pain and regret. And yet now, even though the date had officially passed, he was letting himself feel that barely remembered sense of excitement and anticipation that only a parent could experience this time of year. Hell, 'letting' it happen wasn't right. Truth be told he couldn't help himself. Eagerly awaiting the moment those two little boys opened their gifts was about the sweetest feeling he'd had in years. Next to finally believing Nathan's words that J.D. was truly going to be all right, that is.

Chris sighed and closed his eyes. Another few hours and he'd be welcoming the peacefulness of sleep, his mind holding onto a steady prayer that the morning would bring them all together again.

+++++++

Buck awoke slowly. The sound of muffled speech drifted into his mind and lured him into the real world. He opened his eyes, blinking heavily to adjust his vision to the sunlight streaking across his face. It had to be at least noon and here he was still sleeping? The voices came from outside the door, but he didn't have the energy to call out to them. And, much to his disgust, he still didn't have the strength to pull himself out of this bed.

He immediately glanced down at the child at his side. J.D. stretched lazily at the slight movement and Buck placed his hand across the child's forehead. Soft warmth enveloped his palm, but the heat of fever was truly gone. Buck smiled as J.D. yawned and squinted up in his father's face.

"Hey, Little Bit. How ya feelin'?"

J.D. seemed to contemplate the question for a few seconds before raising up and touching his neck with chubby fingers. "Okay. 'S still sore."

For the sake of his still aching back, Buck tried to contain the absolute joy in his heart at the sight. It was understandable that the boy wasn't bouncing out of bed, but the clarity in those hazel eyes and the smile on his lips couldn't be denied. Buck couldn't stop himself from reaching out to wrap his son in a tight hug. "Let's see about getting you something for your throat and maybe some breakfast. Ok?"

A slight rustle at the doorway announced Chris before he spoke. "It's 'bout time you two woke up."

This time Chris sounded like his old self. That hint of playfulness in his voice that had resurfaced after J.D. and Vin came into their lives echoed again. Buck released J.D. from his grip and turned to face his friend. "Sorry to keep ya waitin', Chris. Reckon you can fix me and my boy here something special? We're a mite hungry, ain't we J.D.?"

J.D. nodded and slid off the side of the bed. He grabbed Buck's arm and pulled. "C'mon, me and Chris'll help you."

Buck could feel the color drain from his face at the memory of the last time J.D. "helped" him and he looked to Chris to save him.

"C'mon, J.D., let's give Buck a minute to collect himself." Chris winked then tentatively held out his arms, apparently unsure if J.D. would reject the gesture or welcome it.

J.D. raised his arms to the older man and let himself be lifted from the floor and rested his head affectionately on Chris's shoulder. "We'll come help you when you're ready, ok, Buck?"

Buck beamed with pride. The sweet, good-natured little waif that they'd all fallen in love with was back.

"Master Dunne, good to see you up and about." Ezra tried to remain stoic, but the excitement in his voice couldn't be restrained. Leaning against the door-frame of Buck's room, he smiled broadly and reached out to cup the child's plump cheek as Chris approached. Buck wasn't sure, but he thought he caught the brief glimpse of a tear held captive in the corner of Ezra's eye.

J.D. grinned, then a look of complete seriousness crossed his face as he stared at Ezra. "Did I miss Christmas?!"

Buck laughed, then winced as muscles tightened across the width of his back as he focused on the task of standing.

"Not to worry, young man. Christmas was postponed precisely for you." Ezra leaned in close and whispered into J.D.'s ear. Cocking his head toward the outer room harboring the tree and the presents beneath it, his tone became even more hushed. "And your secret has been properly taken care of."

J.D. looked momentarily confused, then apparently understood. "You didn't tell Buck and Chris nuffin' did you?"

Ezra huffed dramatically, ignoring Chris's inquisitively raised eyebrow and pulling back from the boy in feigned shock. Hand held to his heart he implored, "I beg you J.D., did I not swear an oath of allegiance to you and young Master Tanner?"

"Yes?" Was the boy's tentative response. Seemingly worried, perhaps about hurting his uncle's feelings.

"Well then," Ezra continued, shooting a wink at Chris before blinding them all with a toothy smile, "clearly your secret would be safe with me."

J.D. grinned back and giggled, launching himself into Ezra's hold before Buck had a chance to warn him. The gambler's surprised, yet delighted expression, revealed his heart more than a whole wagon load of the man's fancy words ever could.

"Gotta watch out for the giggle." Buck said as he finally made it to his feet. "He'll knock a man flat backwards."

"Duly noted." Ezra cut his eyes toward Buck before shifting his attention to the five-year-old tucked against his side. "Now, I suspect you might be interested in investigating some of those packages before breakfast?"

J.D. nodded eagerly.

"Don't open anything 'til Vin gets here." Buck called out, more for Ezra's benefit than J.D.'s.

"Ok." J.D. grinned and threw his arm around Ezra's shoulder. "Let's go see."

+++++++

"J.D.? Come away from the window, son." Buck knew the minute they let those little feet touch the floor, they'd all be in trouble. The boy's improvement was on a steady incline and though he thanked God and heaven for that mercy each and every minute, he was still just too damn crippled to keep up with the child himself. Just how long does it take to bed down a few horses anyway, he asked himself, flinching as he rocked a little too impatiently for his own good.

Not that J.D. was going to wander off on him again, this time Buck wasn't drugged after all. It was only after J.D. was feeling good enough to flat out refuse to take any of Nathan's medicine again that it became all too evident what had happened last time. Buck realized several days too late never to turn his back on a resourceful child and a mug full of medicine he hated. Now that the crisis was over, and Buck's own feelings of guilt were beginning to subside, he could actually find some humor in the situation. Still, it was a damn hard thing to accept the fact that he was helpless to look after his son's needs right now.

"But Uncle Nathan 'n Josiah. . ."

"Know perfectly well how to find their way back from the barn," Buck interrupted, lips quirking ever so slightly at the dramatic sigh he supposed wasn't meant for his ears. He understood the boy's restlessness, understood incapacitation more than he'd ever wish on his worst enemy. Understood the boy's excitement too. And he knew the boy's concerns extended well beyond the barn where Nathan and Josiah were tending to their stock. Chris and Ezra had been gone less than an hour now. Chris to pick up his son and Ezra not surprisingly – to anyone perhaps but himself – accompanying Chris to escort the 'old crone' he so enjoyed sparring with back to their little cabin.

Despite the woolen clothes and blanket the child wore about his shoulders, the memory of his boy's fever and delirium was too fresh in Buck's mind. He'd be damned if he'd let J.D. get a chill now. Rocking the chair forward he let out a too audible grunt but, before he could steady his legs underneath him to stand, a tiny, pudgy pair of feet suddenly appeared in his restricted view.

"Papa?"

Although J.D. tended to call him Buck more often than not, every now and then he would call out that name – a name meant only for him – and it still took his breath away, swelled his heart to its limits every time he heard it. Buck looked up into imploring hazel eyes shimmering with pooling tears. The boy's lower lip trembled and Buck damn near wilted at the sight. He knew the boy was worried for him. "Aw, Little Bit, I'm ok, no need to fret about me," he soothed, doing his best to hide the strain as he reached out with both arms. "C'mere."

Buck didn't know whether to cry or burst with pride as he watched the child, who'd normally launch himself in response to an invitation to sit on his lap, hesitate. He could just see the wheels turning in J.D.'s mind as he tried to figure out how best to climb up. The boy's dubious "you sure?" was nearly the big man's downfall. God, what was a little pain compared to the joy of having J.D. back. "I said, come 'ere," he growled playfully, rocking forward and scooping a squealing J.D. into his arms all the while using the rocker's blessed momentum to help straighten back up. There. That wasn't so bad.

Buck settled back, his arms wrapping the blanket around the boy as he held him tighter. J.D.'s excitement abated almost immediately and he snuggled in close, obviously still seeking comfort in his father's presence. Keeping at bay the lingering fears that Buck's fall had provoked and whatever demons of the night had tormented him and driven him from his home. Lowering his cheek to the mop of soft black hair beneath his chin, Buck nearly hummed the next words he spoke. "Can I ask you something, Little Bit?"

"Ok," the boy murmured against his chest, sleep obviously beginning to take its hold. Buck hesitated, not wanting to disturb the child's peacefulness. "What, Buck?" J.D. tugged on a handful of his father's shirtsleeve and Wilmington knew then that the inquisitive boy wouldn't permit any evasiveness now.

Tenderly tipping the little chin upward so their eyes could meet, he asked the question his soul yearned to have an answer for. "J.D., do you remember why you ran away the other night?"

J.D.'s eyes startled briefly, then misted and Buck felt like a heel for not leaving well enough alone. Why couldn't he just be happy his boy was on the mend? J.D.'s answer halted any further self-recrimination however. "Wasn't running away," he whispered. "I's followin' mama."

Oh God. Buck swallowed the lump trying to choke off his last breath. J.D. hadn't been running from anything at all.

"She wants me to stay with you now, Buck."

Still taken aback by J.D.'s confession and the absolute conviction in his voice, Buck couldn't stop the questions swirling in his mind. "She told you that?"

J.D. nodded. "I thought she'd come back to take care of us, but she whispered too quiet 'n I couldn't tell. And I tried to follow her, but I gotted lost and it was dark and I was scared."

Instinctively Buck pulled the little body closer to his chest. "It's all right, you're safe now. Just promise me you won't follow anybody off again without tellin' me. Not even your mama, ok?"

"Ok, Buck, but I don't think mama's comin' back."

Buck pulled back to look in the child's serious eyes.

"I don't think she can. Maybe she wanted to say bye and she's real happy 'cause I'm happy bein' with you."

Buck could feel the tears stinging the corners of his eyes as the precious face in front of him grew hazy.

"You think that's why she came, Buck?"

Buck pulled the little boy's head tightly against his chest. "I think that's exactly why, J.D. She wanted to come back to make sure somebody else loved you just as much as she did."

J.D. pulled away to look Buck in the eye. "Do you love me just as much?"

"You bet I do, Little Bit." Buck wanted to add that he couldn't possibly imagine anyone loving J.D. any more than he already did, but there was no way he could or would discount this child's own mother's devotion. Still, he honestly believed that his own feelings for the little tyke were at the very least equal.

"Good, 'cause I love you as much too."

This time Buck didn't try to control the tears. This time they weren't from frustration or guilt or regret. This time his tears came directly from his overflowing heart. That J.D. was here in his arms, safe and secure. That the little boy was indeed happy even despite the fact that his mother no longer held him.

Buck kissed J.D.'s forehead and pulled him closer. He rocked slowly, his arms wrapped protectively around the small boy he loved more than life itself. In no time at all the house would be filled with their adoptive family to open presents and share each other's company. Right now Buck simply cherished the feel of his son's heart beating steadily against his own chest.

Needing to verbalize what he felt in his own heart, Buck looked heavenward and muttered a sincere 'thank you.' He wasn't exactly sure if it was God or J.D.'s ma he was speaking to, but either way, he wanted to give his thanks for the best present he would ever receive in his life.

December 25, 2003

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