by Penny M.

12-15-02

Uneasiness crept through Buck Wilmington’s lanky frame as he rode point through the canyon. Maybe it was because the outlaws he and J.D. were tracking were sneakier than a pair of dirt-colored rattlers. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush of experience telling him that if they were on the right trail, and they were, that the two murdering cowards were now trapped at the top of the cliffs with no way out except through them. Or maybe it was both.

Buck glanced behind him, making sure J.D. continued to hold his bay against the side of the canyon wall like he’d been told. Eager eyes locked with his and J.D. broke out in a nervous grin, telling Buck he was ready for whatever appeared around the next bend. Buck knew that look, the one that revealed his young friend’s overzealous excitement in a situation that would have a sane man scared out of his wits.

Stupid kid.

A glimpse of reflecting metal high in the rocks behind them stopped Buck cold. He quickly motioned J.D. closer against the canyon side as he spun his horse around to get a better look. They’d been walking straight into a trap. The fact that Buck had anticipated such an ambush had saved them so far, but the rocky walls looming overhead were thinning out and he realized they were just about to be stuck.

"Buck?" J.D. finally began to show a hint of fear and Buck figured the kid had seen the brief panic written in his eyes.

"Sneaky bastards, they were gonna pick us off like fleas on a dog." He pointed to the ridge. "Now ain’t you glad I made you scrape the side of this mountain comin’ up here?"

J.D. didn’t say anything, merely turned in his saddle trying to see what Buck pointed at. "We’re already past where they’re waitin’, we can go up and get behind ‘em before they know we’re here."

Buck let out a long sigh. "They already know we’re here. They were just hoping to get a shot at us before we got this far." He motioned back toward their trail with his head. "If that failed they were gonna get us when we crossed out in the open."

He knew that until now J.D. hadn’t been able to see the straight edged mountain side they were moments from crossing into and he saw the spark of realization on J.D.’s face as he glanced down the trail. "Now what?"

Buck shook his head. Good question. They could stay there until nightfall and then either try heading on or back down under the cover of darkness. Of course that meant stumbling across sharp rocks in the pitch black and praying they didn’t drop into the pits of nowhere. Ok, so that wasn’t really a good idea come to think of it. They could head back down now and hope they didn’t give those rifle-toting morons on the ledge an opportunity to shoot off their backsides. They could make a mad dash through the clearing and hope the outlaws were too far away to actually hit them. Or they could make a stand right here, maybe he could draw them out and let J.D. pick them off.

Buck scrubbed his face with one hand as he considered the options.

J.D. shifted restlessly. "I say we make a break for it."

The crack of gunfire exploded, sending a rain of dust and splintered shale beside them. Both horses started, throwing their heads back in fear and preparing to run whether their riders had the common sense to or not. Another pop echoed through the hills and J.D.’s bay sidestepped wildly. J.D. fought to get his terrified mount under control and back into the safety of the ledge.

One more shot, closer this time, and Buck grabbed the bay’s bridle and physically yanked the neighing beast toward the wall. He’d already decided that if it made one more step out into the open with J.D. on its back he’d shoot the dumb animal dead. Finally J.D. got the wall-eyed horse under cover, still snorting and pawing, but staying under control.

Buck let out the breath he’d been holding and nodded reassuringly to J.D.. "That was close."

"Too close." J.D.’s voice sounded strained and Buck felt the prickle of uneasiness again. J.D.’s face had turned a few shades whiter than normal and his eyes reflected more than fear. The kid was hurting. Bad.

"You all right, boy?" Buck inched closer, trying to keep from spooking the horses again, and lay his hand on J.D.’s slumped shoulder.

J.D. laughed nervously and shook his head. "I think that last shot got me."

******

Renewed panic surged through Buck as he saw the bright splotch of blood soaking through the back of the kid’s vest. J.D. pitched forward heavily, a low moan vibrating in his throat. Buck slipped off his horse, his knees wobbling as he stood on solid ground for the first time in over four hours. He gently pulled J.D. from the saddle, holding him tight against his chest.

"Hang on. You’re all right." Buck lowered J.D. to the ground and quickly searched the boy’s abdomen for the exit wound, but there wasn’t one. Buck’s heart caught in mid-beat. They were already neck-deep in calf shit and he sure as hell didn’t want to add to the misery by digging a bullet out of his best friend’s back.

If either of them managed to last that long.

Buck’s hands shook as he eased J.D. on his stomach and shoved his hat between the kid’s face and the rocky earth. He ripped away the tattered vest and shirt until he reached flesh, wincing as J.D. jumped when his fingers brushed lightly over the blood slick surface. Buck yanked off his bandana, careful to fold it so the cleanest side faced outward, and pressed it firmly into the wound. He expected the muffled moan and the tensing of muscles and held the young man’s arm firmly as J.D. tried to jerk away from his touch.

"I know, I know, just keep still, son." Buck released his grip and lay a steadying hand on the young man’s side, rubbing gently in an attempt to calm him. He felt J.D. suck in a ragged breath as Buck’s fingers moved lightly across a hard lump on his ribcage.

Buck couldn’t really be certain, but his gut told him he’d found the bullet. He ran his thumb over the mass again, harder this time, fighting his protective instincts and pushing aside J.D.’s obvious discomfort in a more urgent need to be sure. The second time he had no doubt that the bullet was lodged tightly in J.D.’s side.

As much as they didn’t need this sort of complication and as painful as the kid’s injury might be, at least that meant the wound wasn’t as serious as he’d first thought. The shot apparently caught J.D. at an angle, catching on a rib on its way out. Thank God. Relief nearly made him dizzy when he no longer had to worry about the bullet stuck in J.D.’s heart or deep in his belly. Now he figured he’d have enough time to take care of the immediate danger and get J.D. safely back down the mountain before nightfall. He hoped.

"You with me, boy?"

J.D. nodded weakly, desperately trying to get his arms under him in order to sit up. Buck laid his palm on J.D.’s head and eased him back down. "Just stay put. I don’t think you’re gonna die, but I don’t aim to let them get another crack at it."

"No, I can help, Buck." J.D.’s eyes reflected his pain and also his fiery determination. Buck felt a swell of pride, knowing that J.D. would have picked up his Colts and rushed up the side of the mountain if he’d said he needed him to. Hell, Buck had no doubt the stubborn little shit would ride into hell with him right now if he’d only ask. Not that he ever would, but it was good to know how much J.D. trusted him. How much they trusted each other.

Stupid loyal kid.

"Just rest easy, boy. I’m gonna take care of a couple of cowboys that won’t get to live to regret the day they tied on a gun."

Buck eased J.D. onto his side, removing the kid’s guns before taking off his own jacket and stuffing the garment behind him. The big man’s gentle touch and soothing tone belied the anger he felt collecting in the confines of his skull when J.D. set his jaw tight and groaned as his body rested against the rocks. Seeing J.D. hurt always made him a little crazy and he couldn’t help second guessing his decision to let him tag along today. He should have insisted Chris or one of the others go instead of this naïve kid who couldn’t wait to play with the big boys.

Of course, he knew J.D. was as much of a man as the rest of them, yet such youth and inexperience brought on an overwhelming rush of paternal emotions that Buck couldn’t control. Especially now. When the boy’s breaths came in short gasps and his eyes mirrored the pain and fear his face desperately tried to hide.

"That all right?" Buck forced himself back to the reality of their situation as he pushed one of the pistols near J.D.’s outstretched hand.

"What are you gonna do?" J.D.’s voice thickened as he shifted in an effort to get comfortable.

Buck grabbed the canteen from his saddle and held it as J.D. drank. "I’ll let you know when I find out, kid."

No need to tell J.D. that he was going to scale up the side of the canyon and hopefully be able to get the jump on them from behind. He wasn’t at all sure it was even going to work and he certainly didn’t need J.D.’s advice in the matter. Besides, if J.D. knew the plan the chances were mighty likely that he’d decide to pull some fool stunt that would get them both killed. "Stay put and shoot anybody that casts a shadow on this trail – ‘cept me."

"Ok." J.D. nodded weakly and closed his eyes.

"Uh, uh." Buck slapped J.D. firmly on the knee. "You stay sharp, boy. There’ll be time for snoozin’ when I get back."

J.D. stared up at him, his weary eyes almost protesting Buck’s order.

"I ain’t askin’ you to take a flying leap off the side of this mountain, J.D.. Just keep your eyes open. I got faith in you, son." Buck grinned half-heartedly and patted J.D. on the shoulder. He felt a stab of guilt, but he couldn’t take a chance with J.D.’s life. Not even if it meant the kid had to fight through the pain for another hour or more.

Buck unfolded his long legs and stood full height. He pulled a rope and his rifle out of its scabbard and rested it against his shoulder as he stuck J.D.’s extra Colt in his belt . "I’ll be right back so don’t make me have to come looking for you."

*******

Buck made his way further down the trail, careful to keep his body hidden and his steps quiet. He began to rethink his choice the minute he began his ascent up the cliff. These hands were made for pistol handles and cupping ample bosoms, not scaling up jagged rocks. He choked back a curse when his knee raked a sharp stone as he heaved himself a few feet closer to the top.

The sound of muffled voices put an end to his silent complaints and he flattened against the roughness and slithered like a garden snake until he could peer over the top of the ridge. Shrubs and half-grown trees provided cover and he hunkered down and moved closer toward the outlaws. He could still hear them talking, but their words were unintelligible so he crept closer.

He knew he had to play his cards just right. If he revealed himself too soon his chances of coming out of this without shooting or being shot were about zero. He had to be patient despite the gnawing urgency in his gut to get this over with and take care of J.D..

The mumbling had stopped and Buck proceeded cautiously through the dwindling cover. His gaze landed on one of the men, his back making an inviting target as he trained his rifle below. Buck had no idea if the outlaw had a bead on one of the horses or if J.D. had broken cover, but he wasn’t about to let the bastard get off a shot either way. They needed the horses to get back down the hillside and, well, he just needed J.D..

Buck shouldered his rifle, aiming the barrel at the back of the criminal’s thick neck. Chris might have a problem shooting a low-life like Maurice Wesson in the back, but Buck would do it in a heartbeat if it meant saving a friend. Now if he could only spot the other one before he gave away his hiding place. Nervous energy made his palms slick, but he held tight to the rifle, his right finger twitching anxiously on the trigger. Where the hell was Wesson’s friend?

*******

J.D. blinked hard, opening his eyes wide in a desperate effort to stay awake. The fiery ache that had settled in his back made him long to lie back and will himself unconscious. Of course the random, yet frequent, stabs of agony in his ribs shattered his hopes of rest. He’d promised Buck he wouldn’t doze off, but the heavy fog inside his skull clouded his rationale and lured him. He reminded himself of the danger he still faced, but his eyelids drooped to block his vision. He would just rest for a second. A second wouldn’t hurt.

The horses started, and J.D.’s eyes flew open, watching as the animals moved out into the open and left a clear view of the sunlit trail. A thin shade stretched in front of the entrance. J.D.’s heart beat faster, its rhythm booming in his ears and making him dizzy as Buck’s words echoed in his brain. "…shoot anybody that casts a shadow on this trail."

Dark spots danced in front of his eyes and he felt his already waning energy being sucked away by fear. No, damnit. He chastised himself, forced his head up and his hands to stay steady as he readied his aim.

A nerve-shattering explosion overhead combined with the growing shadow in front of him made his muscles tense until they hurt. His mind raced and time seemed to pass in slow motion as a short, stocky form blocked the stream of light leading to his hiding place. A glint of metal lifted toward him and J.D. instinctively squeezed the trigger of his pistol.

*******

Rage washed over Buck and as he lined up Wesson in his rifle site. His finger hesitated, a brief flash of conscience or perhaps a fear that shooting a man in the back wouldn’t sit too well with J.D.. Damnit. Those bastards didn’t mind shooting J.D. in the back so why should he worry about being fair?

"Wesson!" Buck shouted, his finger already taut against the trigger as the outlaw whirled around, pistol up and aimed.

The single crack of his Remington echoed in his ear and Wesson swayed, then collapsed in a motionless heap. Buck cocked the rifle quickly, waiting for the response from the man’s partner. A hint of panic struck at his heart as he wondered why the gunfire hadn’t drawn out the other outlaw. He answered his own question as roving eyes landed on the knotted rope around the base of a sturdy sapling near Wesson’s feet.

The rapid repeat of pistol fire below confirmed his fears and he ran from the brush. A quick glance at Wesson confirmed that he wasn’t going anywhere – ever. Buck dropped the bulky rifle near the dead man and propelled himself down the waiting rope.

*******

The kick of the Colt sent shards of pain through J.D.’s ribs and across his wounded back, but he ignored it and kept firing until he made sure he’d hit his mark. The man dropped to his knees like an anchor hitting dry land before pitching face first into the dust. J.D. wished he had the strength to check, make sure the man wouldn’t suddenly rise up and try to kill him again. But he could barely stay conscious himself.

Stay awake, stay awake. He repeated the mantra stuck in his head. He wasn’t safe yet – Buck wasn’t safe.

The urgent beat of footsteps vibrated the earth beneath him and he realized that if it wasn’t Buck he was as good as dead. J.D. had already spent all six shots in his pistol and he didn’t have the strength to fight either, so he closed his eyes and lay his head against the stone wall.

*******

Buck nearly stumbled on the crumpled corpse in his haste and he kicked the body over to make sure he was dead. Six bullet holes riddled the crimson stained shirt, the man’s lifeless eyes still wide with the shock of being out ambushed.

"J.D., you all right?" Buck knelt on one knee beside him, prying the gun from J.D.’s stiff fingers with one hand and supporting his slumping body with the other.

J.D. nodded weakly, his eyes never opening as he slipped quickly into unconsciousness. Buck eased the kid back onto the makeshift bed, pulling aside the sticky bandana to check the wound. It had already bruised up and started to bleed again, not an unexpected occurrence under the circumstances, but still it didn’t look too bad. The only thing bothering him was the lump of lead wedged in J.D.’s ribs and the sickening feeling that he was going to have to take it out before facing their trek back down the mountain.

The familiar sound of crackling firewood and Buck’s soft humming crept into J.D.’s senses, soothing his muddled mind. Now if only the person stepping on his back and making it impossible to draw a decent breath would get off he might actually be able to sleep. Instead, the pressure increased with every intake of air, the pain rushing from his side all the way into his chest. He tried to escape the source of his discomfort, gasping at the stabbing agony that hit him as he tried to roll over.

"Easy, son. Everything’s all right." Buck’s voice floated through his fog-covered thoughts and a gentle hand settled in the middle of his shoulder blades. Half-formed memories of the events of the afternoon rushed back and he sank into the bedroll.

"Shot?" He thought he remembered being hit and it sure as hell felt like he had, but confusion still had a tight hold on his brain. Maybe this was all a weird dream.

"Not too bad." Buck said softly as he wiped a wet cloth across J.D.’s back. J.D. flinched at the burning touch wondering if Buck might be lying to keep him from panicking. It sure as hell felt bad and grew worse with each breath.

"Wesson?" The fear that he and Buck might still be in danger surfaced as he remembered exactly why they were in this canyon.

"Don’t worry about them, kid. I suspect the buzzards’ll be eatin’ good tonight."

JD gagged at the thought. He was glad the outlaws were no longer a threat, but Buck really didn’t need to be so vivid with the details. At least not until his head stopped spinning.

"J.D." Buck’s voice sounded serious and J.D.’s heart thumped wildly in anticipation. "I ain’t lying to you when I say it don’t look too bad. Trouble is that bullet’s stuck in your ribs, that’s why you’re not breathin’ good. No way I can cart you back down this hill like that."

An icy sweat broke out along J.D.’s hairline as his brain took in what Buck had said. Or more importantly, exactly what he hadn’t said.

"No." J.D. gritted his teeth and rolled onto his side to face Buck. He trusted him. Trusted him with his life, but the thought of having a bullet cut out of him without laudanum or even a couple gulps of whiskey, nope, he just couldn’t take that. "I can make it…to Nathan’s."

Buck set his jaw tight and turned his head, avoiding J.D.’s eyes. "Lord knows I wish I didn’t have to, but you’d be in a hell of a lot more hurt trying to ride with that bullet wedged in ya."

J.D. already ached too bad, felt too sick to suffer any more right now. He just wanted Buck to leave him be for a while, give him time to think this over before asking him to make a decision like that. "No, Buck."

Buck cupped the top of J.D.’s head in his hand, his eyes sad, but determined. "Sorry, kid, I ain’t asking. It’s gotta be done."

J.D. shook off Buck’s hand in anger, using what strength and determination he had left to sit upright in order to look Buck straight in the eye. He tried to hold his position, but the piercing pain in his side stopped him cold. A rush of heat engulfed his face, blurring his vision and he heard himself moan pitifully as he crumpled forward into Buck’s waiting grasp.

"Hey, don’t worry, son. I’ve done this plenty of times. Never lost a patient." Buck’s soft words and the comforting feel of strong arms supporting his weakened body forced J.D. into the cruel reality of the situation. Buck was right. Hell, Buck was always right.

"Can’t count how many times I done this for Chris. ‘Course that could be the reason the man can be so damn surly, but at least he ain’t dead." J.D. caught most of what Buck was saying, but he knew Buck tended to ramble when he got nervous. And that didn’t help J.D.’s confidence level right now. Another wave of dizziness hit him as he was lowered onto the warm bedroll. Fear and anticipation formed a hard knot in his stomach as Buck peeled back the makeshift bandage. "…just be glad it ain’t in some of the more intimate areas that Chris had a knack for collectin’ bullets in."

J.D. wished he felt well enough to run, if only so he’d have time to prepare before Buck had to cut into him. Instead he compliantly rolled onto his stomach, putting his faith in his best friend and telling himself to take it like a man. The clanking of hot knives and God knows what else threatened to dissolve his bravado and he willed his mind to drift, to pretend this wasn’t happening. He trusted Buck to save his life and take care of his wounds, but not even Buck could prevent his suffering. As much as J.D. knew his best friend desperately wanted to; as much as J.D. wished he could.

*******

Buck’s hand shook as he rotated the small knife blade in the fire. He’d already gathered everything else he might need – hot water, clean bandages, and of course the needle and thread Nathan always insisted they carry. Seems that came in handy way too often when J.D. was around.

He found himself moving in slow motion, avoiding the inevitable for as long as he could, yet an overwhelming urgency burned in his gut. He wiped the knife clean and turned back to J.D.

The kid lay unmoving, the only clue he was still awake was the harshness of his breathing and his hands absently grasping at the bedroll. Just do this and get it over with, damnit. Just get it over with for his sake. Buck kept repeating the command to himself to keep up his courage. The sooner he got that bullet out the sooner J.D. could rest.

Buck wet a bandage in the hot water and wiped at the blood clinging to J.D.’s back. The boy jerked and his eyes shut tight. "Wait. Not yet."

The fragility in his voice tore at Buck’s very core. He would have sooner shoved that knife in his own back than do this to the one person he’d promised he’d always protect. Trouble was that wouldn’t help J.D.

"Ok, when you’re ready." Buck gently washed around the bruises, rinsing, then dragging the warm cloth lightly across the young man’s tensed shoulders. J.D.’s body trembled with unbridled fear and Buck couldn’t exactly blame him. The last time the kid had a bullet taken out it turned into a heart-breaking ordeal of screaming torture with Nathan digging in his gut for the slug that Maddie Stokes had put there.

‘Sometimes you gotta hurt to heal, Buck.’

Nathan had said those words to him then, right before Buck was forced to hold J.D.’s writhing body to the bed. Right before J.D.’s blood-soaked hand had clutched onto Buck’s shirt and bewildered eyes locked with his in a desperate plea for escape. And right before J.D. mercifully passed out cold in his arms. Yep, Nathan’s truth made perfect sense. Until you had to be the one to listen to the screams of that healing inflicted on someone you felt closer to than most family.

No, he didn’t blame J.D. at all for being terrified right now.

"Don’t worry, you’re gonna be fine. Like takin’ a splinter out of your thumb. Quick, easy, nothing to it." Buck knew he was rambling again and hoped J.D. didn’t realize how damn scared he was too. Sure he’d done this before, but this was different. This was J.D.

Buck slipped his hand under the kid’s hair and kneaded the corded muscles in his neck. He pressed firmly, finally beginning to feel the tension ease a little and J.D.’s breathing become less labored. "That’s it, boy. Just relax and leave it all to me."

J.D. let out a long sigh of resignation. "Go ahead, Buck."

Buck swallowed hard at the trust he heard in the kid’s voice and grasped his upper lip in his teeth. He had to do it now. Before he lost his nerve. He affectionately tousled J.D.’s thick hair then reached for the hot knife. "Nothing to it."

Buck rolled J.D. over slightly, moving in closer and leaning him against his knee. He needed leverage to get the bullet out and a better way to hold him still when the pain hit.

J.D. began to breathe harder, either from the uncomfortable position or the anticipation of what he knew awaited him. "Relax, son. Just keep real still and think about something else." He felt foolish as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but he was at a loss for anything poetic or even useful to say at this point.

It was now or never. Before he had a chance to rethink what he was about to do. Buck forced his mind to detach, to stick to the mechanics of what had to be done because if he gave in to the emotions churning in his gut he’d be completely worthless. Buck prayed a silent request for guidance, then pushed the point of the blade into J.D.’s flesh, quickly slicing a deep incision underneath the impression of the bullet.

He was ready when J.D. jerked violently and Buck held him firmly against his leg. However, nothing could prepare him for the heart-wrenching cry of shock and pain filling his ears as J.D. clawed at the bedroll and tried to bury his face in the soft fabric.

"Be still, J.D." Buck barked, fear making his tone sharp. His hands trembled as blood gushed onto his fingers and he tightened his hold on the boy as he dug deeper into the wound. A muted yell followed by a string of obscenities commanding him to stop became merely background noise as Buck felt the tip of the knife hit unyielding metal. J.D. squirmed weakly in his grasp as Buck tried again to pry the bullet from its hiding place. "Hang on, boy. Hang on."

Sweat trickled down Buck’s collar, his body shaking from the inside out, but he wasn’t about to give up now. Not when he was this close and J.D. had already gone through so much. He wedged the knife between the kid’s ribs again, finally getting enough leverage to force the bullet free. J.D. gasped and his body spasmed as the slug popped loose. The cries of protest and pain faded to a quiet whimper as the young man curled himself around Buck’s knees and went limp.

Buck felt his own tension melt as J.D. passed out and he let his head drop to his chest. He cupped his hand on the back of J.D.’s neck, his slick fingers seeking out the steady pulse he needed to reassure himself was still there. A fast rhythm beat against his fingertips and Buck let out a relieved laugh. "’Bout time you passed out, boy…just wish you’d done it about five minutes sooner."

A stinging ache in his back gnawed at J.D.’s consciousness, pulling him from sleep and into reality. He opened his eyes, squinting against the bright glow of the still burning campfire. He blinked slowly, focusing his gaze on Buck’s criss-crossed legs next to him before looking up into his friend’s face. The man appeared worn to the bone as he lazily stirred something cooking over the fire.

"Hey, kid." Buck grinned wearily, shifting his position and putting his hand across J.D.’s forehead. "You’re kinda warm, how ya feeling?"

"Like I been stepped on by a herd of buffalo." He could hear the slurring of his words and he doubted he sounded better than Buck looked. "How are you?"

Buck grinned broadly. "I reckon I’ll be all right."

J.D. watched as Buck dipped a spoonful of whatever it was he was cooking and spread it onto a folded rag. The aroma of the concoction reminded him of scorched whiskey, tree bark and rotten eggs, although he knew that couldn’t be right. J.D. swallowed back the encroaching nausea, shivering as Buck pulled aside his blanket and peeled away the bandage clinging to his side. The annoying throb of discomfort quickly grew into full-fledged pain as Buck pressed the hot poultice against the wound and J.D. couldn’t prevent flinching or silence the groan that seeped from his lips.

"God, what is that?" He squeezed his eyes tight as if not looking would take away the burning, not to mention that awful stench.

"Don’t think you really wanna know, son. Just be thankful it ain’t our supper." Buck situated the bandage for what seemed like an eternity before replacing the warm covers and tucking them gently around J.D.’s shoulders.

Buck uncorked a canteen and held it out for him. J.D. reached for it, his thirst overriding common sense. He quickly drew his arm back, hissing softly as stitches stretched and a sharp pain reminded him of his limitations.

"Hold on a minute there, kid." Buck said softly and J.D. felt his friend’s broad hand cradle his head and lift him up just enough that the glorious water could trickle down his parched throat instead of roll into his ear. Buck carefully controlled the canteen, allowing him only a few sips at a time before guiding him back onto the bedroll. "That better?"

J.D. nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Told you I do some excellent doctorin’, even if I do say so myself." Buck wiped away the sweat J.D. could feel beading on his forehead. The wet rag stung, then soothed his feverish skin. "Almost as good as Nathan, huh?"

J.D. didn’t have the energy to tell him that his excellent doctorin’ had nearly finished him off earlier, but truth was he did feel better. Weak and tired, but at least it didn’t hurt so much to breathe now. And despite the initial discomfort of whatever concoction Buck had put on his wound, it was beginning to ease the pain a little. "Almost."

"Hey, be glad he ain’t here to fix you some of that tree root soup you like so much." Buck teased.

J.D. swallowed hard. The mere mention of that swill made his stomach roil and he quickly changed the subject before Buck decided he could make up some of that too.

"So where’d you learn to… you know, dig a bullet out like that?" J.D. trembled at the memory and shifted his sore body in a vain attempt to get comfortable.

"Told you I had plenty of practice on Chris. Course that was a long time ago, when we were just two dumber ‘n fence post boys."

Despite the throbbing in his back and the effort it took to stay awake, J.D. couldn’t pass up the open opportunity. "You ain’t changed much."

Buck snorted his disapproval, but a sly smile creased his lips. "Prob’ly right about that, kid."

"So what was Chris like back then? Before…" J.D. couldn’t bring himself to finish, but the look on Buck’s face told him the gunslinger understood…before everything changed, before Sarah and Adam died and Chris seemed to take the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Wild as a mustang stallion, fiercely loyal, and a hell of a lot of fun. You know, same as me, only not nearly as gifted with the ladies." Buck winked, amused with his own remark. "Course he was a whole lot like you too. Hard-headed, full of himself, too mouthy for his own good…" Buck’s voice fell to a hoarse whisper. "and too good for the likes of me."

J.D. wasn’t sure he’d even heard the self-deprecating words correctly. What did he mean by not good enough? Did Buck really think he wasn’t worthy of Chris’s friendship? Or his? The idea sounded too absurd to comprehend and he searched Buck’s features for a sign that he was merely kidding. Instead J.D. witnessed a flash of grief and pain so deep that it made him shiver. Something long buried that Buck quickly corralled and locked away from sight again.

"Course he never wore no funny hat." Buck forced a smile, his tactic to shift the conversation not fitting the still haunted look in his eyes.

The heat from the fire warmed J.D.’s face, but it couldn’t take away the icy wave of guilt that told him he’d swung open the gate to Buck’s imprisoned demons. He wanted desperately to reassure his friend, yet J.D. could only lay there in stunned silence while the opportunity passed him by. Buck had briefly invited him into the deepest recesses of his heart and now he probably thought J.D. didn’t care enough to pursue the journey. Well, it wasn’t true. Not true at all. Only he didn’t know exactly how to backtrack so instead he pushed forward.

"You think he’ll ever get married again?"

Buck shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. Hard to say what a man’ll do."

"What’ll you do, Buck? You plan to settle down, have a house fulla kids?" J.D.’s words spilled tentatively. Sure, Buck had shared a lot of things with him already. Some facts asked for, others volunteered in the middle of yet another life lesson the gunslinger felt compelled to impart. Somehow, though, asking about prospective plans felt like an invasion of privacy. Especially when he sincerely hoped to hear he’d be a part of that future too.

Buck shook his head and laughed. "I don’t need a wife when I already got too many women lining up to get their share already. And I sure don’t need no kids as long as I’ve got your troublesome hide to look after."

J.D. started to protest, but the genuine fondness in Buck’s expression stopped him short and he felt his cheeks flush. Besides, his growing weariness and the fact that his best friend had just cut a bullet out of his back wouldn’t have gotten him very far in proving he didn’t need a keeper. Later, when J.D. felt stronger and more convincing, he’d remind Buck they were supposed to look out for each other. That Buck wouldn’t have to ever worry about not having him around to watch his back either.

A feeling of security enveloped him and with it a clarity that only comes with distracting pain and a rising fever. He knew that despite whatever might happen down the road…wives, kids, growing older and moving on, Buck would be around, no matter where it led either of them. J.D. had come west with a dream to ride side by side with heroes who fought hard and lived fast; instead he’d found a brother he never realized he wanted and the truest friend he’d ever known.

"What are you grinnin’ about?" Buck’s voice shook J.D. from his reverie, the familiarity and concern in Buck’s face bringing a wider smile to his lips.

"Nothin’." J.D. wanted to laugh, but the fear he’d rupture something vital caused him to refrain.

"Good. I couldn’t tell if you’d lost your marbles or was gonna throw up on me." Buck lay a cool hand against his forehead again. "Now get some rest if you expect to ride with me come morning."

The sparkle had already returned to Buck’s eyes as if they’d never known a moment of grief. J.D. shut his eyes, giving in to his tired body’s demand for sleep. There’d be a day when he would find the right moment to push his questions a little further. To ask why the mention of a bride and children had made Buck’s face cloud. Then again maybe he didn’t really need to hear it said to know that the death of Chris’s family had killed a part of Buck’s dreams too. But not all of them. Buck was too strong and too in love with life to let fate take everything.

Chris might not have realized how lucky he’d been to have Buck, but J.D. knew. From the day Buck stepped between him and that saber. And he wasn’t about to give that up.

"Just try goin’ anywhere without me."