Rating: PG 13. Questionable language is used in this story. If that offends
you, please be warned.
Disclaimer: The Magnificent 7 is the property of CBS and the Mirisch Co. No
money was made, instead the author paid greatly to do this. bg.
Notes:  First I'd like to thank the most under used beta around.  Marla,
you're the greatest! I only wish I'd used your services more completely, so
I take full responsibility for all errors. Your insights, however, were
used shamelessly. Thank you.

Mog, what can I say? The late nights you spent trying to help me pin Ezra
down were invaluable. (That didn't sound very good, did it? bg.) Anyway,
you're the best, chia pet around! I owe you a two-pack of snowballs.

As always, thanks Maggs, who listens to my  whining.

And yes, Leslie and Jenny, I know I said no cliff hangers; but this really
doesn't constitute as one. bg.

Finally, this story was inspired by another one by Linda L. Thanks for
sharing the idea.

Enough said.

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

Spirits of the Dead

The soul shall find itself alone
‘Mid dark thoughts of the gray tomb-stone-
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Be silent in that solitude
 Which is not loneliness-for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
 In life before thee are again
In death around thee-and their will
Shall overshadow thee: be still.
The night-tho’ clear-shall frown-
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in Heaven,
With light like Hope to mortals given-
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.
NOw are thoughts thou shalt not banish-
Now are visions ne’er to vanish-
From thy spirit they pass
No more-like dew-drops from the grass.
The breeze-the breath of God-is still-
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy-shadowy-yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token-
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!
-Edgar Allan Poe

*********************************************************************
Skeletons
 

“It was the first truly cold night of the season and wind howled through
the leafless trees, rattling their limbs like the bones of a skeleton.
Moonlight shown from the midnight sky above, throwing shadows onto the
dilapidated gallows that still stood in
the dusty street of Loredo.  An owl called from the rooftop of the old
general store as Bart Sams slid from his horse, giving the nervous animal a
reassuring pat on the neck.  Of all the places in the land, he had to end
up in a God forsaken ghost town."
 

JD Dunne stopped reading and looked up from the tattered dime store novel
in his hand.  He glanced at his ‘captive’ audience and frowned when he
wasn’t greeted with the reaction that he was hoping for. The teen sighed in
exasperation and looked at the man
 lying on the bed in front of him, who didn’t appear a bit disturbed or
frightened, but rather, highly amused.  Buck Wilmington was leaned against
a stack of pillows, one arm crossed over his bandaged side, with a huge
shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“What the heck is so funny, Buck? This is a ghost story, for Pete’s sake.”

The mustached man’s grin widened. “You, kid, you’re what’s funny. What kind
of voice is that you’re using? Sounds like you swallowed a couple of bull
frogs or somethin’.”

JD rolled his eyes. “That’s my dramatic voice, Buck.  It’s how you’re
‘spose to talk when you’re trying to frighten somebody.  Don’t you remember
any of that acting stuff that Ezra taught you?”

Wilmington laughed at the earnest expression on his best friend’s features
, but instantly regretted it as a sharp pain reminded him of exactly why he
was at Nathan’s clinic being treated to one of JD’s tales of terror. He
couldn’t prevent the gasp that
escaped as the all too recent bullet wound protested his movement.

“Buck!”

JD’s concerned voice filled his head and he forced himself to take a
shallow breath and open his eyes.  “I’m okay, kid. Just not up to teasing
you yet, I guess.”

“Should I get  Nate?” The boy stood and was poised to start for the door,
but Wilmington reached out and caught his hand.

“Sit down, son. The last thing I need is the doc in here pokin’ and
proddin’ at me again.”

Dunne looked unsure but took his seat next to the gunslinger’s bed once
more. He’d been privy to Jackson’s last examination of his friend, and sure
didn’t want to cause
Wilmington anymore pain. “I was suppose to scare you, Buck, not the other
way around.”

Wilmington felt a sudden flash of guilt as he took in the pale and haggard
form of the Seven’s youngest member.  He remembered how upset JD had been
when he had been shot a few days before. It had taken Vin and Ezra both to
drag him from the room while Nathan had went about the tricky task of removing two bullets from his gut.
Since then, the teen had hardly left his side.  When he had gone, it had
been at the direct orders of Chris Larabee, and even then the stint away
only consisted of the time it took
to bathe and swallow a small meal.

“Sorry, kid.” Buck forced a smile. “Why don’t you take a break for a while
and go get something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” JD said around a yawn. “’Sides, I’ve got to finish the
‘Haunted Gallows of Loredo’. We still have the ‘Legend of Sleepy Hollow’ to
read before All Hallow’s Eve on Sunday.”

Buck shook his head at the kid’s enthusiasm over the upcoming event. The
boy seemed more interested in it than he had Christmas the year before.  Of
course, Ezra reading him and Vin that strange poetry by a man named Poe and
all those books that Mary had
dug up for him hadn’t helped any. “JD, I told you them stories were
nonsense, boy, and All Hallows Eve is just an ordinary day, not the day
‘the dead shall rise and walk among us’. There ain’t no such things as
ghosts.”

The young sheriff’s face set in determination. “That ain’t what Josiah told
me.  He said that ghosts were souls prevented from moving on ‘cause of
unfinished business. He said that they couldn’t find peace, and that’s why
they went about haunting people or places.”

Buck’s smile returned. “Josiah also talks to dogs and believes that death
rides on the wing of crow.”

“So?” JD shrugged. “You believed that a potion would make Inez fall in love
with you.  Seems like about the same odds to me.”

“Funny, shorty,” Wilmington growled.

JD grinned and picked up his book once more. “Be nice now, Buck, or I won’t
read you the part where old Bart meets up with the fancy lady ghost.”

The gunslinger sighed and was about to relent to another morning of the
teen’s chattering when there was a tap on the door and Vin Tanner walked in.

“How ya’ doing, Bucklin?” The lanky tracker pulled another chair from
across the room and slid in beside JD.

“I’d be better, junior, if you’d take the kid off my hands for a while.”
Wilmington winked at Tanner. “Maybe I could get some peace and quiet.”

JD looked ready to join in another round of the two men’s usual banter, but
Vin’s reply kept him quiet. “That’s what I come up for. I have a little job
for , JD.”

“You do?” Both Wilmington and Dunne asked simultaneously.

Vin looked from the injured gunslinger to the teen. “Yep, that is if he
wants it. Pay is ten dollars?”

“Ten dollars?” JD’s eyes went wide. “Where’d you get ten dollars?”

“And who does he have to kill to get it?” Buck pushed himself up in the bed
some, his smile fading.

“I ain’t the one payin’, kid,” Vin explained, ignoring Wilmington’s
comment. “Seems we got a real live ‘historian’ in town.”

“Historian?” JD looked at Buck. “What’s that?”

Tanner was the one to answer. “It’s a person who writes about the past, or
‘least that’s what Ezra says.  This Mr. Williams is supposedly working for
one of the big museums in San Francisco that’s interested in some of the
local ‘treasures’.”

“What do I have to do?” The kid asked with some dread. A historian didn’t
sound half as exciting as a gunslinger or sheriff, even if he did come from
San Francisco.

“Mr. Williams wants someone to take him out to the old Santa Bel mission.
He’s never been in these parts and you know how hard the place is to find,
especially for a city slicker.” Vin smiled at the kid. “You think you can
remember how to get there?”
 

“That place is suppose to be haunted.” JD pointed out, a look of unease
crossing his young features. “Folks say that it’s cursed.”

“Don’t tell me you believe all that gibberish Casseopaya was rambling on
about the other day?”

JD glared at his friend. “It’s true , Buck.  She was a kid when it
happened. You know that all those murders took place there, even Chris
said there was a bad feeling about the whole area around Santa Bel.”

“Well, I think the both of you have been reading too many ghost stories,”
Wilmington replied. “There ain’t nothing out at that old mission but a lot
of tumble weed and some stained glass.”

Dunne shrugged his shoulders, but still looked unsure. “I guess you’re
right. After all, ten dollars is a lot of money for a quick trip out and
back.”

“About the money, JD,” Vin spoke up, “Ez might want a share. He’s the one
who suggested that Williams take a guide.”

“What? Our favorite gambler grown a conscious since I’ve been laid up in
here?” Buck snorted.

“I think he’s more concerned with losing Mr. William's’ money than he is the
man getting lost. Historians must get paid a lot better than we do because
Ezra’s made a killin’ off the poor man at the poker table.” The tracker
leaned back in his chair and put his boots up on the bed. “Ezra asked me to do it, but Chris wanted me to
stay in town whilst he and Josiah are gone to Eagle Bend, especially with
the Dawson brothers locked up in the jail.”

Buck grimaced at the mention of the men who’d attempted to rob the bank,
and had inevitably put him in the situation he was in now. “It’d be just
like their gang to try and break them out. Vance Dawson ain’t someone to
take lightly.”

“That’s what Chris was thinkin’ and with you hurt and them helpin’ the
Judge, he wanted me to be on guard.” Tanner shifted his gaze to the teen
beside him. “ ‘Sides, JD and I have scouted out that region plenty of times.”

“Won’t Chris be back tonight?” JD asked, not sure he was willing to leave
his friend to go on a half’s day ride to a ghost infested dwelling with
some boring city guy, even if the money was good. “ Then you could take
that fella’ out tomorrow.”

Both Buck and Vin looked at the boy as if he’d just grown a second head. It
wasn’t like JD to turn down any chance at adventure. “ I guess I could ask
him if he was willin’ to wait,” Tanner replied. “But he said something
about being on a schedule and really needin’ to get out there this afternoon.”

“You sick or something, kid?” Buck asked with a hint of disbelief. “Any
other time you’d be out of that chair and out the door quicker than if
someone lit a fire under your britches?”

“Yeah, well any other time you wouldn’t be hurt and we wouldn’t be
expectin’ trouble to roll in to town either.”

“I really don’t think me nor Four Corners is goin’ to disappear if you
leave, son.”

JD searched his friend’s face for a moment and then nodded. “If you really
don’t need me to stay...”

“I don’t,” Wilmington said a little too quickly, but covered with a grin.
“Besides, you can use that ten dollars to buy ol Buck’s Christmas present.
December will be here before you know it.”

“Right,” JD laughed, standing up and dropping his book on the chair, “then
I can use the other nine dollars and fifty cents to get them new boots I’ve
been wanting.”

“I’ll remember that when I’m makin’ out my own list,” Buck replied.

Dunne ignored the gunslinger and focused on Vin. “I’ll go get Seven ready.
Just have Williams meet me at the livery.” He then turned back to Buck.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?”

“Would you go already, kid,” Buck shooed the boy out of the room. “I might
finally get some sleep if you’re not here pesterin’ me.”

The teen smirked at the older man and started for the door, stopping and
turning back once more before leavin’. “ I’ll be sure to tell Inez on my
way out not to bother bringing your lunch up, since you’ll be resting an’
all.”

With that he disappeared into the hallway before Wilmington could voice an
objection. Vin hid a smile and stood to leave also. “Guess I should have
Miss Myrtle bring you some of her soup a little later on , huh? She’s
mighty grateful for you saving her life by pushing her out of the line of
fire. She’d probably be willin’ to give ya’ desert too for taking that
bullet for her.”

Wilmington glared at the ex-bounty hunter. “You keep that crazy old woman
out of here, junior,” the gunslinger told his friend. “Her and her
invisible dog too.”

Vin’s lop-sided grin grew. “I’ll try,  but you know how busy I am.  Ain’t
got time to guard your door or anything.”

“Then have Ezra do it.”

“Ezra’s retired for the evening, or should I say ‘mornin’, ” Vin said,
adding in his best imitated southern accent, “and he is not to be disturbed
until the sun wanes.” The tracker took a few steps towards the door. “ Did
I mention that Nate’s gone to the Farley place and won’t be back until a little later. So, you’re kind of on
your own.”

“Great,” Buck groaned. “I should have never let the kid leave.”

“The kid’ll be fine, Buck,” Vin assured. “That Mr. Williams fella’ is
harmless. He kind of reminded me of you.”

Wilmington looked taken aback. “ Doubt it. I’m one of a kind, pard; and I
wasn’t worried about JD anyway, I was worried about me. Ain’t no tellin’
what kind of effect my animal magnetism might have on a woman with only
half her senses. She might go plum crazy or somethin’.”

Tanner shook his head slightly when he realized that his friend was talking
about Myrtle Flannery again, and decided that this was his cue to leave. “I
better go tell our historian that he has himself a guide.”

“Well, make sure you tell him we want ‘our’ guide back in one piece,” Buck
called after Vin.

The ex-bounty hunter paused at the door. “Don’t worry , Bucklin. Like you
said there isn’t anything out there at that old mission but smoke and
shadows. ”

“Yeah, well, JD can pull trouble out of thin air.”

Vin laughed. “Enjoy the quiet whilst you can , pard. The kid will be back
before you know it.”

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

“You must be, JD?”

At the sound of the deep voice the young man in question turned from his
job of saddling his horse and his hand instinctively went to rest on his
sidearm.

“Whoa there, flash.” The stranger held up his hands and took a reflexive
step back. “I’m Brett Williams, I believe you’re expecting me.”

JD stared at the man before him, sizing him up with a trained eye.  He was
nothing like what the teen had planned on.  For one, he was a lot younger.
The historian that Dunne had conjured up in his imagination had been about
as old as Moses; but in reality, he looked a lot closer to Chris’s age.

His dark wavy hair was cut short and trimmed neatly like his mustache; but
even though he was dressed in clothes nearing the finery of Ezra’s , he
carried his tall lean frame in a rugged manor.  However, it was his eyes
that caught JD’s attention. Buck always told him you could tell a lot about a man by his eyes.

Mr. Williams’ were dark and soulful, familiar somehow, with a hint of
mischief behind them. Sort of like the puppy he had picked from
Casseopaya’s dog's newest litter.

“You are JD Dunne, correct?” The historian took a cautious step forward,
waving his hand in front of the boy’s face as if he wasn’t sure the young
man could see him.

“Uh, yeah,” the youth replied, with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, you just don’t
look like what I imagined.”

Williams laughed. “That’s alright. You’re a surprise also.  Mr. Standish
said I should look for a kid about so tall,” Brett held his hand up almost
a foot below JD’s actual height, causing the teen to roll his eyes, “with a
strange looking hat.  Instead
I find a grown man with very auspicious taste in head wear.  Bat Masterson
would never be caught with a questionable hat, after all.”

A bright smile lighted the youth’s features.  At least the historian seemed
to be pretty smart, so far. “Vin said you were wanting to see the Santa Bel
mission?”

Brett looked at Dunne. “That’s correct, sir.  I’m on a little scouting
mission of sorts.”

“For your museum?”  JD quieried, dropping his guard and going back to his
task of readying Seven.

“Why yes.” Williams nodded. “My employer is quite interested in the
historic value of the structure.”

“And in the treasure?” Dunne asked, already knowing the answer.

Brett’s smile increased. “I do believe they would want me to check into
that aspect of it’s background also.”

“Thought so.” JD grasped his horse’s reigns and started for the livery
door. “A lot of people have wanted to look into that ‘aspect’, Mr. Williams.”

“You are quick, Mr. Dunne.” Brett pushed his black hat a little further
back on his head. “Looks like the name ‘flash’ suits you just fine.”

“Better than ‘kid’ suits me,” JD mumbled.

“What was that?” Williams asked, following the younger man out of the barn.

“I said you can call me , JD.”

“JD it is then,” Williams slapped the kid on the back as he passed him to
untie a big white stallion with a fancy black saddle and bridle, “but only
if you call me, Brett. That ‘Mr. Williams’ crap makes me sound old and
stuffy.”

The historian mounted the impressive animal with ease and pulled it
alongside JD. “I am far too handsome to be old,” Brett winked at the kid,
“and much too popular with the ladies to be stuffy.”

JD laughed a little and shook his head as he started them towards the road
out of town. “You need to meet my friend, Buck.”

“Buck, huh?” Williams cocked his eyebrow and a small smile tugged at the
corner of his mouth. “Sort of sounds like a dog’s name.”

“He’s not a dog,” the teen replied, but then a sudden image of just how his
best friend would react to that statement made JD laugh lightly.  “Well, he
does claim to have a certain animal magnetism, but I’d say he’s more akin
to an old tom cat.”

Brett chuckled. “Sounds like me and ol’Buck might have a few things in
common.”

JD nodded and spurred Seven to a gallop. “Seems that way.”

“I’m better looking though, right?”

The typical ‘Buck’ reply made the teen laugh harder. Maybe this trip
wouldn’t be as boring as he thought.

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

“We do deserve a meal, you know.” Jack Dawson called through the bars of
the Four Corner’s jail cell.  Unfortunately, the man he was yelling to
seemed oblivious to his complaints and continued to clean the mares leg he
was holding.

“Ain’t right locking us up in here without any food or water.” The young
blond tried again.

His older brother, Darren, sighed from his position on one of the bunks.
“Would you stop your whining, Jack.  Vance will have us out of here before
dawn.” The dark-haired boy cast a menacing glare in Vin Tanner’s direction.
“Then we can cut the law dog’s liver out and cook ‘it’ up for breakfast.”

The tracker behind the sheriff’s desk didn’t look up at the prisoners to
acknowledge the threat, instead he thought of a familiar tune and started
whistling.  After all, Vin had heard all the same talk before.

The two would-be bank robbers had been more than a little vocal about their
impending liberation since their capture three days before. Although,
Tanner and the rest of his partners had pretended to discount their
bravado, especially with each passing day that there was no trouble, they were all very aware of the threat Vance
Dawson posed.

Dawson was a ruthless murderer who rode with a gang of men comprised mostly
of his kin, each as deadly as the next.  In fact, it had only been a few
weeks ago that Vance, himself, had been the one in jail in Carson City
awaiting a sentence of death by hanging.  Unfortunately, his band of
misfits managed to break him out, wounding the sheriff and two of his men
in the process.

Since then, a posse had lost the gang’s trail and not heard hide nor hair
from them until the two youngest, Jack and Darren, had shown up in Four
Corners.

After they tried to rob the bank and shot Buck, Judge Travis had decided to
hold the two until the law in Carson could come claim them or until the
Seven had the time or the manpower to return them.  At the moment, neither
was possible, seeing as how Chris and Josiah were needed to escort Travis
and two other prisoners to Eagle Bend, and most of the men from Carson City
were still riding with the posse.

Still, Tanner hoped one of the other happened sooner rather than later,
because he really didn’t want the displeasure of tangling with the likes of
Vance Dawson, or his brood of ‘miscreants’, as Ezra would say.

Through with his unproductive pondering, Vin stood and stretched, sending a
quick glance in the prisoner’s direction. “Well boys, I think I’ll head on
over to the hotel for a bite to eat. Your all’s constant jawing has made me
a mite hungry.”

“Go ‘head and eat whilst you still can lawman. It might be your last meal.”
Darren said.

“I’ll remember that.” Vin pulled on his duster and tipped his hat at the
men. “I’ll also try to remember to bring you something back. That is , if
you boys haven’t been rescued by then.”

“You won’t think it’s so funny when Vance get’s a hold of ya’,” Jack
called, as the door was closed and locked behind the tracker. “We’ll be the
ones laughing, over your grave.”

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

Buck was lightly dozing when there was a slight tap at his door. “Mr.
Wilmington?” a high-pitched voice called, and the gunslinger winced as he
instantly recognized the smell of beef stew and some strange aroma of perfume.

“Are you awake, dear?”

Buck tried to pretend he was unconscious, but knew it was a hopeless case
when he heard the door shut and foot falls nearing his cot.

“Now stay off that bed, Sadie,” Myrtle said in a harsh whisper, and Buck
nearly groaned when he realized he was also being paid a visit by Miss
Flannery’s unseen pet.  The mere thought of the imagined animal was enough
to bring a renewed pain to Wilmington's side.  The woman he had protected
had darted into the line of fire to save the non-existent stupid mutt,
after all.

“That’s a good girl,” Buck heard the old woman coo, and couldn’t help but
to open his eyes.

“Well, you are among the living,” Myrt laughed and leaned over the bed a
little so Wilmington could get a good look at her, “and looking just as
handsome as ever.”

She sat a big black kettle on the night stand and planted one chubby palm on
Buck’s forehead. “My, my, you still have a slight fever though.”

Buck tried to force a smile as he slid away from the spinster’s touch. “I’m
fine , Miz Flannery.  Just a mite tired is all.”

Myrtle frowned. “I can’t believe Dr. Jackson and the rest of those boys
left you alone.” The woman looked around the room and found the chair which
JD had been using. Pulling it up close to the cot she plopped herself down
and held out her arms for ‘Sadie’ to join her.  “Especially that brother of
yours, he’s such a sweet boy.”

Buck tried to retain his grin.  Myrtle, since moving to town the year
before, had somehow gotten it in her head that JD and he were brothers, and
not from the best of stock, mind you. Of course, she was also the one who
tried to convince Mary that Vin and Ezra were Confederate spies, and that
Josiah was the devil himself.  Funny, the only one she really liked of the
Seven was Chris, whom she insisted on making apple pie for on several
occasions.  That was, until Buck had saved her life by risking his own.
“I’m sure they’ll be back real soon, Miz Flannery.  No need in you wasting
your time here on such a lovely day.”

The red-haired woman laughed. “Don’t be silly, dear.” She patted Buck on
the leg. “Sadie and I haven’t got a thing to do, and besides who’s going to
feed you all this nice stew I made especially for you.”

Wilmington pushed himself up a little more in the bed, and pulled the
covers up farther on his chest.  “Now, mam, I can handle that myself.  I do
appreciate the offer, but...”

“Now, don’t you fret none, Mr. Wilmington, I know myself a thing or two
about taking care of men, especially wounded men.”

“I’m sure you do, Miz Flannery...”

Some of the woman’s smile faded, and she absently brushed at a spot on her
lap where somewhere in her own world Sadie must have been seated. “I
treated my fair of soldiers in the war you know. My father was a minister,
and he and I used our farm as sort of an aid station , you see.”

Myrtle opened the stew pot, and began to ladle some of the soup into a tin
cup she had found on the stand beside her. “That was ‘til some Johnny Rebs
destroyed it.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck said softly, starting to get a picture of just why Myrtle
may have done some of the things she did.

The woman’s chubby face lit up once more. “No need to be sorry, dear.
Sadie and I survived, just like we did that horrid gun battle.  Of course
that was thanks to you.”

A genuine smile tugged at the corner of Buck’s mouth. “No need to thank me, mam. I could never stand to see a lovely lady in
jeopardy.”

“You are a modest one,” Myrtle laughed, her cheeks turning a slight pink,
“but I insist on paying you back.”

The older woman shifted so that she was now sitting on the bed beside Buck.
 The gunslinger silently cursed his animal magnetism and backed as far as
he could against the headboard. “Now, mam, I told ya’....”

“And I told you,” Myrtle grabbed the cup of soup in one hand and pulled a
spoon from her bag with the other, “I don’t intend to let a hurt boy like
yourself stay alone.”

Buck started to object, but before he could Myrtle looked to the chair she
had just vacated and tossed a piece of biscuit on the cushion. “There you
go , Sadie.” She then turned back to the mustached ladies man and gave him
a sad smile. “Sadie and I know just what it’s like to be left all alone.”

“I’m sure you do,” Wilmington replied softly, deciding that the soup
suddenly smelled very appetizing and that one evening with a eccentric
woman and her invisible dog didn’t sound that bad.

Myrt laughed , the hint of melancholy disappearing from her haunted gaze.
She handed the mug and spoon to Buck and patted his knee again.  “Now , Mr.
Wilmington, did I ever tell you how much your Mr. Larabee looks like a
young soldier I once knew?”

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

Santa Bel mission was once a place of beauty and solitude, with curved
stone arches and stained glass that had survived a voyage across the seas.
Monks had come here to live in peace and solitude, practicing the ways of
the religion they had brought with them from Spain.  Unfortunately, they
had not found the haven they had hoped. Instead, history told a gruesome
tale of murder and mayhem, and of the destruction of something that had
once represented hope and integrity.

“Do you know the legend of the Santa Bel mission, JD?”  Brett had been
doing most of the talking since he and the teen had left Four Corners and
it took Dunne a moment to realize that the historian had asked him a
question.

The kid bent down and picked up a jagged piece of colored glass that had
caught his eye reflecting in the dirt. “Sure, everyone around these parts
does.  That’s why not many folks are willing come out here.”

“Is it true that all the monks were murdered by a gang of outlaws?”
Williams asked, shielding his eyes against the midday son to cast a glance
around the ruins.

JD dropped the glass and patted a nervous Seven , who showed his
disapproval of their destination by  pawing at the dirt and snorting.
“That’s what they say.  Casseopaya told me that the leader of the gang
believed that the monks were hiding a great treasure here. They came one
night and demanded to know where it was.  When the Father denied the
claims, and after they searched the place themselves,  the bandits shot
everyone of the priests, and then set the mission on fire. ”

“Who is this, Casseopaya?” Brett asked, not commenting on the story JD had
just recanted.

Dunne thought it a funny thing to ask, but humored the historian anyway.
“She’s one of the farmers on the outskirts of town. She raises special
herbs and stuff.  She’s close to a hundred, I bet, but she’s got a memory
like you ain’t never seen.”

Brett raised an eyebrow. “So she was actually around these parts before the
mission was closed.”

JD nodded. “Her ma use to sell medicines and other supplies to the monks.”

Williams reached in his pocket and pulled out a long leather pouch, which
he opened and retrieved a wrinkled piece of parchment from.

“Wow, what’s that?” JD stepped in closer to get a look at the brown,
crinkled piece of paper. “It looks just like the treasure map in one of the
Pirate stories Buck read me once.”  The teen looked up at the man, blushing
slightly at his slip. “I mean a book that I read once,” he corrected.

Brett smiled and handed the artifact to the kid. “I always wanted to be a
pirate, you know.  That’s why when I ran across this little map,” Williams
cleared his throat, “I mean when the museum did, I couldn’t pass up the
chance to check its authenticity out.”

“Do you think it leads to the treasure of Santa Bel?” Hazel eyes twinkled
with enthusiasm. “Is that why you’re here?”

Williams shrugged, and took the map back from JD. “The gentleman who sold
this to the museum said that it led to the legendary El Color de las Ondas.”

“The what?” JD asked.

“The ‘Color of the Waves’,” Brett said wistfully. “A necklace created by
Neptune, made of the most breathtaking emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds
that the world has ever seen.”

“Who’s Neptune?”

Williams laughed. “Why the god of the Sea, of course. Have you never read
any mythology?”

JD shook his head. “I mostly read dime store novels growing up. That was
all my mom could really afford.”

“I see,” Brett’s smile faded some, but he cleared his throat and launched
into a quick explanation of Zeus and his brood of special powered beings
that ruled the land of long ago.

He had a most interested audience and JD listened in awe as the historian
wove a fascinating web of intrigue about winged creatures and incredible
monsters that had the teen thinking Rome was sounding more exciting than
the West.

“So, Neptune, was the ruler of the oceans?” Dunne asked, when Brett finally
stopped speaking.

The historian nodded. “He was said to aid voyagers on their journeys, or
destroy their ships, whatever his mood might be.”

“If he was a god, then why did he create a necklace and let some monks have
it?” JD inquired, not sure he quite believed the tale, no matter how
interesting it sounded. “Four Corners is a long way from the Sea.”

Williams smiled, patiently. “The legend says that Neptune had a great
passion for beauty, and once when a young Princess was on a voyage with her
father, the god became enchanted with her graces. Knowing he could never be
with a mortal, he created the necklace for her instead, as a token of his
undying love.”

“How did I know there was going to be a woman involved,” JD sighed.

“It’s true,” Brett defended. “Neptune was said to have promised the lovely
maiden that the necklace would afford her safe passage on any body of
water, and promote wealth for her lineage and country.”

“That still don’t explain why a bunch of priests would have it.”

“The young woman was supposedly the first queen of Spain, JD, and to say
that the Spanish Armada was successful would be an understatement in the
least.” Brett glanced around the burnt out holy place once more. “But I too
wonder why something of such importance would end up out here. I’ve heard
some tales that a Father Christabel actually stole it, to prevent it from
falling into the wrong hands.  But then again why would a mythological
legend mean anything to a man of the cloth.”

“Josiah says that power and greed can corrupt a person,” JD said. “Maybe
that’s what this Father Christabel was afraid of.”

Brett eyed the boy for a moment, amazed at the strange mixture of naiveté’
and insight that he was discovering JD Dunne to possess. “Maybe.”  Williams
stroked his mustache. “But if old Father Christabel did bring it out here,
he sure as hell was good at hiding it. People have been searching for
years, or so I’ve heard.”

JD nodded. “But you have a map. It always helped the pirates.”

Williams handed the map to JD once more. “I’m afraid I.., I mean the
museum,  might have been cheated.  This doesn’t even look like the same
place and there is no X to mark the secret spot, I’m afraid.”

Dunne looked at the roughly sketched drawing and then to the half-standing
building in front of him. “What do these words down at the bottom say?”

Brett sighed. “A rough translation- for whom the bells toll.”

“That would make since, seeing as how the bell tower is in the center of
the picture,” JD mumbled.

“What did you say?” Brett looked to the kid.

“The bell tower,” JD pointed to the tall thin building nearly hidden in the
crook of the parchment. “See how it rises out of the courtyard. It’s kind
of like the Catholic churches back in Boston.”

A huge grin eased itself onto Brett’s face. “Flash, you may just be a
natural at this treasure hunting stuff.”

“Huh?” JD let his gaze meet the historian’s.

“Where else would Father Christa ‘bel’, hide a treasure in his mission of
Santa ‘bel’?”

“Where?” JD asked, still not catching on.

“In the torre de las campanas, of course.”

“The bell tower?” JD guessed.

“Bingo,” Brett whooped and did a little shuffle step. “I am too smart and
nice looking for my own good sometimes.”

Dunne looked at the fallen structure once more and then to Williams. “I
hate to point this out, Brett, seeing how you’re the expert and all; but,
there is no bell tower.”

“That’s true,” Brett’s smile remained in place. “But that doesn’t mean that
there didn’t use to be.”

“I don’t understand,” JD said, beginning to get one of those headaches he
often got when Ezra was trying to explain something to him.

“What did you say that old woman’s name was that use to come here as a
child?”

“Caseopaya,” the teen replied. “Why?”

“Is there any way that I could possibly talk to her?  The museum would be
willing to pay her for her time, I’m sure.”

“Heck, Casseopaya loves to talk.  Sometimes when me and Buck go over to
pick up supplies for Nathan, we can’t get a way.  I’ll warn you though, if
you go, be ready to stay for dinner.  She don’t get much company , but when
she does, she likes to entertain.”

Brett tossed the teen a charm-filled grin. “Is she a good cook?”

JD smiled. “Real good.”

“Then we will definitely have to go by and see this local commentator.”

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

Ruby came sauntering out of the barnyard, barking a greeting as Brett and
JD dismounted there horses.  The little black cattle dog was followed by
four small balls of fur and one large orange and black spotted cat.  Dunne
laughed as the tiniest pup began
to growl and pull at his pants legs. “This one’s mine,” he announced
proudly, picking up the black and white mass. The teen turned the puppy
around and held it up so Brett could see that it had three white paws and
one solid black one. “Buck says he looks
 like a three-legged dog.”

Brett smiled. “Buck would.”

“Huh,” JD asked, distracted by the face licking he was getting.

“I said, that’s good.” Brett scratched the pup behind the ears. “I know a
great joke about a three-legged dog.”

“Me too,” the teen beamed. He was liking Brett more by the minute.

“I told you that pup wouldn’t be ready for another week, young man.” Brett
and JD both looked up at the sound of the stern voice.  The kid gently
deposited the dog back on the ground with Ruby , and walked towards the
dark figure standing on the front porch of the old shack.

“I know, Casseopaya.  That’s not why I’m here.”

The old woman eyed the young man. “And why might you be here, John Dunne?”

JD looked over his shoulder to where Brett was still standing by his horse.
 “I brought someone to meet you.  We were hoping to ask you some questions
about the old mission.”

The woman barely raised her raven eyes in William’s direction before
focusing on the kid once more.  “Where’s the rest of you?”

JD smiled. “Buck’s still at Nathan’s.  He’s doing better, but not able to
be up and about yet.”

“I see. I’m sure that there are many saddened in  Four Corner’s because of
his progress.”

“Nah,” the kid shrugged, “most of the women know he’ll be back to his usual
self in a couple of weeks or so.

“I was referring to the husbands hoping for his demise.” Casseopaya replied
with a hint of humor. She then turned with a swish of her long black dress
and started for the door to her small home. “ You two might as well come
in, because I sure ain’t standing in the hot sun to talk with you. I’m an
old woman, you know, not some spring chick.”

“You coming?” JD turned to look in Williams’ direction.  The historian
seemed anything but sure about venturing into the dilapidated abode,
decorated with wind chimes made of what looked like chicken bones and
feathers from a larger variety of bird.

“Just how well do you know this woman, flash?”

“Well enough,” Dunne replied. “Don’t let her first impression fool you.
Buck thought she was a witch when he met her.  He thinks she’s great now.”

“Either get your tales in here and shut the door, or move on.” A sharp
retort wafted from within the house. “I don’t have all day to waste with
your foolishness.”

Brett took a deep breath and stepped onto the porch. “I take it that it was
her sunny disposition that finally won your friend over?”

JD smiled. “Hardly. Casseopaya saved my life. ”

“Is that all it took?” Williams asked, with a hint of sarcasm.

“Well, that and she lifted the spell she had put on him.”

“Spell?” Brett laid a hand on Dunne's shoulder to stop his trek towards the
door.
“What kind of spell?”

The teen grinned at the other man. “Lets just say that if you want to stay
popular with the ladies, you don’t want to try and pull anything over on
old Casseopaya.” JD slapped the historian on the shoulder. “But since
you’re on the level, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Of course not. Nothing at all,”
Brett breathed, swallowing hard and trying to remind himself that there was
no such thing as witches, as he slowly followed JD into the darkened room.

Casseopaya was seated in a high back red velvet chair near the fireplace
when they entered and she wasted no time fixing her gaze on the tall
historian. “Now what is it you want to know about Santa Bel?”

Brett removed his hat and held it to his chest. “Allow me to introduce
myself, mam. I’m Brett Williams and I work for a prominent museum located
in San Francisco.  We are very interested in the historical value of what
is one of the oldest missions known
to this grand country of ours.”

“You’re hoping to find Neptune’s Promise, El Color de Las Ondas,  in other
words?” Casse arched one gray brow, and rubbed at the gold locket she
always wore around her neck.

“You know about the necklace?” JD asked.

“I know the legend, John Dunne.” The woman let her gaze fall on Brett once
more. “Unfortunately, not everything one hears is true.”

“The treasure would be an added bonus,” Brett conceded chancing a
charm-filled grin. “Frosting on the cake, so to speak.”

“Careful you don’t end up with pie on your face, Mr. Wilming.., Brett.”
Casse stood. “If one did find the treasure, it would rightfully still
belong to the Church. Correct?”

“Of course,” Brett replied, not liking the feral gleam he recognized in a
worthy opponent. “The museum would only benefit by the recognition of its
recovery.”

“And what will be your gains?”

“Why the satisfaction of finding it, of course.”

“I see.” Casseopaya stood once more and crossed the room to where an old
trunk sat.

JD had taken a seat on one of the two rocking chairs in the room and had
instantly become a viable source of heat for Casseopaya’s fat tom cat,
Whiskey.  He watched the woman with interest as she opened the chest and
dug through it.  “What’cha looking for?”

The woman favored him with a rare grin, and pulled a wooden framed picture
from the remnants within the crate. “I think the question should be, what
is your new friend looking for.”

“I was merely hoping that you might give me a description of what the
mission use to look like.” Brett was quick to offer.

“I know.” The woman smiled, enjoying the look of discomfort on the alleged
historian’s face. “I know a great deal of things.” She crossed the wooden
floor and handed the painting to Williams.

“Perhaps, this will help. My mother did it not long before Santa Bel was
destroyed.  She wanted something to remember it by.”

“The tower,” Brett said softly, running his finger over the tall jutting
structure in the center of the courtyard, just like in his map. “It was
there.”

“Some say if the wind is just right, and you listen well enough, you can
still hear the bell ringing,” Casseopaya told him, and waited for the brown
eyes to raise and meet her gaze.  “When one leaves abruptly, there are
almost always ghosts left behind.
 

“I don’t believe in ghosts, mam,” Brett replied, no kindness in his tight
smile.

JD brushed Whiskey to the floor and come to stand beside Brett.
“Do you think we can find exactly where it was?”

“Of course we can, flash.” Williams clasped the younger man on the
shoulder. “That is, if Casseopaya would allow us to borrow this replication.”

“I trust John Dunne to return it to me.” The old woman glanced to JD, who
was intently studying the painting , and then back to Brett. “But should I
trust you to return him safely?”

“JD is ‘my’ guide.” Brett smiled when the teen looked up at him. “He’s the
one in charge.”

“Then I see no problem with letting the painting go, knowing how competent
JD is.” The woman’s gaze went to JD again. “Besides, he is under watchful
eyes. Isn’t that so, John Dunne?”

JD laughed. “Yes, mam. Six pairs. Constantly. How could I ever forget?”

Casseopaya smiled, and turned to Brett. “It is not you that I’m worried
will forget.” The woman’s weathered face grew grim once more, and she
nodded her head towards a small room in the back of the cabin.  “Now both
of you get in there and wash up for supper. They’ll be no treasure hunting
tonight, and I might as well feed you, seeing as how I made much more stew
than I usually do.”

Dunne grinned. “Did you happen to make any of that cobbler?”

The woman thought for a second, her owlish eyes dancing. “You know I did
have an inspiration this morning.”

JD clasped Brett on the back as Casseopaya turned to go. “She always seem
to know when Buck and I are coming over,” the boy said, following after the
widow.

“I wonder what else she knows,” Brett mumbled to himself, looking once more
to the painting in his hands before following in the kids wake.

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

Buck grinned in delight as Nathan and he entered the batwing doors. The
healer had rescued him from Miss Flannery and even agreed to let him out
for some fresh air, after the woman had thoroughly scolded Jackson for
abandoning his patient in his time of need, that is. Buck didn't think that
it was that Nate felt sorry so much for leaving Buck, but that he felt
guilty for letting the injured man be accosted by the spinster.

Several of the saloon girls whistled and waved to Wilmington as he strode
by , and of course he relished the thoughts of ditching his watchdog and
finding better company.  Unfortunately, Jackson wasn’t about to let that
happen.  With a firm grip on his patients arm, the healer steered the two
away from the bar and back to their usual table which Ezra already occupied.

“Well, well, I see our favorite convalescent has cajoled himself a
visitor’s pass from our mindful physician?” Ezra smiled at the mustached
man , who was carefully easing himself into one of the seats.

“And I see that our not so favorite creature of the night has arose with
the setting of the sun?”

“At least my nocturnal life is much more productive than yours, Mr.
Wilmington.” Standish flashed a large wad of cash in his friend’s direction
before depositing it back in his jacket.

Buck grinned as one of the ‘working girls’ presented him with a beer and an
invitation for later.  “What was that about my nights not being productive,
Ez?”  The ladies man laughed as the woman walked away, but lost some of his
elation when Jackson snatched the mug of beer out of his hands.

“No beer, Buck,” The healer pointed a finger at his scowling friend, “and
no visits with the ladies.  Them were the conditions of us coming here.”

“But, Nate...,” Wilmington started.

“No buts, Buck. You’re still weak and feverish.”

“Feverish is right, doc.” Wilmington winked, eyeing Molly’s retreating form.

Nathan sighed, and looked at Ezra, who was obviously taking pleasure in the
exchange.  “Watch him while I go relieve Vin at the jail.”

“How is it that I so often get delegated to baby sitter?  I do have much
more important plans for this evening.”

“Just do it, Ezra. I’ll send Vin over to help you.”

“I don’t need Ezra to watch over me like I was some kid, Nate,” Buck
protested. Unfortunately , his words fell on deaf ears.

“I’ll tell Vin to have you back to my clinic by midnight.”

Wilmington’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Midnight?!”

Standish laughed.  “You’re carriage 'will' turn into a pumpkin at that
time, Cinderella.”

“I could just take you back now,” Jackson pointed out.

Buck dropped his head in defeat.  Chris always told him the crap that he’d
handed JD all these months would come back around some day.  “I hear ya’,
doc. I’ll just stay here under the watchful eyes of my wicked ‘step-sisters’.”

“Good.” Nathan nodded. “I’d hate to have to explain to JD how you managed
to get yourself in even more trouble.”  With that said, and hiding an evil
grin, Nathan left his friends to start his own shift of guarding the Dawson
brothers.

As soon as he was out the door Buck was reaching for the beer, which Ezra
smoothly scooted out of his grasp.  “I’m afraid not , my friend.  I am in
no mood to incur the wrath of Mr. Jackson or Mr. Dunne anytime soon.”

Wilmington glared at the gambler but finally relaxed back in his chair.
“Speaking of JD, ain’t he back yet?”

Standish hid a rye grin behind the latest edition of the Clarion that he
was reading. “Are you not enjoying your short respite from the youths
exuberant presence?”

“I’m doing fine without him, Ezra,” Buck replied, without his usual steam.
The gunslinger yawned. Despite feeling completely rested before, the walk
over from the clinic had been more tiresome than he had imagined. “It just
seems that he should’ve been
back by now.  Doesn’t take this long to make it to the mission and back.”

Standish laid down his paper and reached inside his jacket pocket. “Let’s
see,” bringing out a silver pocket watch , he made a grandiose display of
opening the exquisite instrument, “it’s only a little past five.  There is
still almost an hour before nightfall .”

The gambler looked across the table when Buck didn’t answer and his smile
faded some when he noticed that the color had suddenly drained from his
partner’s face.

“Buck, are you alright? Perhaps, you shouldn’t have left Mr. Jackson’s care
quite so soon.”

Wilmington didn’t meet his friend’s gaze, instead he continued to stare at
silver watch in Ezra’s hand. “Where did you get that?”

Standish held up the timepiece again, the flickering lamp light reflecting
off the intricate etched design on the front. “This?” Ezra smiled. “Why I
came by this little treasure in a fortuitous bout of chance last evening.”

“Damn it, Ezra!” Buck slapped the table. “For once, can’t you give a
straight answer.”

The con man arched a brow, but kept his aloof mask in place.  “I won it in
a poker game.  May I inquire as to your interest in it?”

“Is there an inscription in it?” Wilmington asked.

“I believe there is.” Standish nodded and started to read the scrawled
words inside the cover, but Buck beat him to it.

“Between brothers, time is eternal.”

“That is correct.” Ezra sat forward some, his green gaze locking with
Wilmington’s vacant stare.  “How did you know?”

“Who, Ezra? Who did you win it from?”

Some in the gunslinger’s tone of voice forced Standish to drop his usual
pretenses. “Mr. Williams, Brett Williams, the historian that JD escorted to
the mission. Do you know him?”

“What?!” Buck stood, his chair toppling to the floor behind him. “He’s with
JD?”

“Perhaps, you should sit down,” Ezra said, standing also. He hadn’t missed
the look of pain that filled his friend’s eyes when he had rushed to stand.
“You don’t look so well.”

Wilmington’s face registered several emotions before settling on fear. He
ignored Ezra’s suggestion and took a faulty step forward. “I..I’ve got to
go find them.”

Standish reached out and caught the other man’s arm as he attempted to
pass. “I can not, in all good conscience,  let you do that, my friend.
Nathan would not be too accepting of you walking to the livery on your own,
let a lone riding a horse.”

“What conscience?” Buck snapped, pulling from his friend’s grasp. “You’ve
got about as much use for a conscience as a dog does for fleas.”

“Mr. Wilmington,” Ezra tried again, this time blocking the other’s way to
the entrance of the saloon, “I do not understand what is going on exactly,
but I assure you acting irrationally is not going to help matters.”

“Get the hell out of my way!” Buck growled, the fierceness in his tone
surprising the gambler for a moment. “I can’t believe you let the kid go
with that bastard.”

Wilmington made to pass by his partner, but the smaller man was quicker,
getting a hold on his friend once more.  Buck wrestled free again, and
ended up on his knees  in the process.

“Shit!” he cursed, grasping his wounded side. “I ain’t got time for this.”

“You don’t have the strength, either,” Standish pointed out, bending to
help the stubborn man up.

“Don’t touch me!” Buck managed to stagger to his feet, giving the gambler a
shove away from him.

By now several of the early arriving patrons of the saloon had begun to
stare and whisper.  For a moment, Ezra considered letting the obstinate
fool go about re-injuring himself, but as he watched the stooped over
gunslinger stumble towards the door he was overcome by the annoying sense
of loyalty he had been plagued with for the last few years. “Buck, wait!”

Wilmington stopped but didn’t turn around.  He’d almost made it to the
doors when the room began to spin.  Standish’s voice seemed to have come
from far away, and he was sure that Molly didn’t have a twin sister he’d
never noticed before.
For an instant, he wondered if there wasn’t something to all that nonsense
that Nate had been spouting about blood loss and that if he shouldn’t
really be trying to find a place to lie down; but as soon as that thought
came it was replaced with another more urgent one. JD. He had to find JD.

Unfortunately, his weakened body wasn’t so agreeable to his line of
thinking, and he would have most assuredly fallen flat on his face if Ezra
hadn’t been there to grab him.

“Buck!”

The weight of the large man brought both men to their knees, but Standish
was able to slow their momentum some. They had just hit the floor when a
very familiar and welcomed voice silenced all conversations around them.

“What the hell is going on , here?” Chris Larabee stood in all his imposing
glory in front of them, Vin and Josiah flanking each side.

“Buck?” Vin quickly stepped forward to help Ezra with the mustached man,
Wilmington pulled away from him also.

“This is your fault too,” he snapped.

“What’s he talking about, Ez?” Tanner looked to the gambler, who was
getting himself up off the floor.  “Nathan said you were watching him.”

“I ‘was’ watching him, Vin, and then he became suddenly agitated about
young Mr. Dunne’s whereabouts.”

Josiah, who had been the one to finally get Wilmington on his feet, led the
man to the nearest seat. “What’s going on, brother?”

“I’ve got to go to get..the..kid,” Buck panted, wincing as twinges of pain
lanced across his side.

Chris knelt in front of his old friend, not liking the dazed, glassy-eyed
expression he was met with. “Why, Buck? Where’s JD?”

Wilmington nodded over Larabee’s shoulder. “They sent him off with that
bastard, Chris.”

“Who?” Chris glanced behind him and was surprised when he realized that
Buck was glaring at Vin and Ezra.

Vin met Larabee’s gaze and silently informed him that he was just as
clueless as he was.

“What’s he talking about, boys?” Josiah’s soft voice didn’t belay his
concern.

“I believe he is referring to the gentleman that JD escorted out to the old
mission this morning.  It seems that Mr. Wilmington is convinced that he
knows him.”

Buck reached out and grabbed the front of Chris’s duster. “Brett, ..Chris.
It was.. Brett.”

“Your brother, Brett?” Larabee asked, confused.

“Brother?” Vin and Ezra asked in unison.

Wilmington sighed, fighting back the wave of nausea that was assaulting
him. “Ezra has his watch, Chris.  He’s ...using  the name ..Williams.”

Larabee glanced form his friend’s pale, sweat-covered, face to Josiah. “Go
get, Nate.” He then turned to Vin and Ezra, who both still looked shocked.
“Help me get him back to the clinic.”

Wilmington reacted as if Chris had struck him. “Didn’t you hear me, damn
it!?” Buck tried to stand again. “That good for nothing, lying, cheating,
stealing, son of a bitch is with JD. JD! I ain’t going anywhere,  but after
them.”

“Buck,” Larabee kept a firm grip on the lady’s man, “if Brett is with JD,
you ain’t got any reason to believe he even knows who the kid is; and even
if he does, it’s not like Brett to hurt a person for no good reason.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Buck struggled to get free from Chris. “Have you
forgot who we’re talking about?  He’s hurt lots of people. Hell, he’d knock
an old lady down and step across her to get to a plug nickel.  You think he
gives a shit about some green kid.”

“Buck,” Chris tried to calm his irate friend, “I’ll go after them just as
soon as we get you to Nate. I promise.”

“I’ll go with him, pard. I can find that mission in the dark,” Vin said,
taking a hold of the gunslinger’s other arm. “Come on, hurting yourself
isn’t going to help the kid.”

Wilmington jerked from Tanner’s grasp. “Oh hell, no. You’re the one who
sent him in the first place, junior.”

“Buck,” Chris began only to have his friend interrupt him.

“Don’t ‘Buck’ me, Chris. I ain’t going to Nate’s. I’m going to find my
brother.” Afraid his friend’s struggles would reopen his wounds, Larabee
let him go.  Buck gave his friends' a hard look, and wiped at the beads of
sweat rolling down his forehead. “And I don’t mean Brett, neither.”

With that said, he turned to go, but faltered when he made it to the
batwing doors and his eyes fell on two figures coming from the livery.  JD
was easy to make out, but Buck had to focus his bleary vision to recognize
the other man. Although it had been more than six years since he last seen
him, Brett Wilmington hadn’t changed one bit.

Buck stepped into the now pre dusk air, just as JD started up the stairs
onto the porch.

“Kid?”

The teen, who was engrossed in talking with Brett about the map and their
plans for going back to the mission as soon as daybreak hit, looked up in
surprise at his best friend’s voice.

“Buck?”

“Where the hell have you been?” Buck demanded, reaching out and pulling JD
away from Brett’s side.

“I went to the mission, remember?”

“It doesn’t take ‘this’ long to go to Santa Bel.”

“We stopped at Casseopaya’s. Brett needed to ask her some..”

Buck cut the kid’s answer short, pulling the teen in front of him for an
inspection. “Are you alright?”

“What are you doing out of bed?” The kid countered, growing tired of the
barrage of questions. The older man looked horrible and at the moment that
concerned the teen more than answering his friend’s inquisition. “Does
Nathan know where you are?”
JD looked at his other partners accusingly as they filed out of the saloon
to stand behind Wilmington.

“Did he hurt you?” Buck demanded.

“What are you talking about?” JD finally realized what Wilmington was
saying. “Who?”

“That bastard.” Buck glanced up at Williams, who was watching the whole
scene with some what of an amused look on his handsome features.

“I think he is referring to me, flash.” Brett took a step forward, laying a
hand on the teen’s shoulder. He pinned the injured gunslinger with a dark
stare. “Although, he should know better.”

Buck didn’t give any advance warning, nor did he stop to think that he
barely had the energy to walk, less on start a fight.  Instead, he shoved
Dunne out of the way and went after the alleged historian.

“Buck!” JD yelled as Wilmington delivered a perfect right cross to Brett’s
face.  The older man stumbled down the steps but managed somehow to stay on
his feet.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to satisfy Buck, who dove off the porch
onto the still dazed Williams before Chris or Vin could stop him. Both men
hit the ground hard, and the injured Wilmington, although he was on top,
didn’t recover as quickly.

Brett was able to get one good swing in and it caught Buck’s chin at an
angle that sent the mustached man to the side. His wounded side.
Wilmington let out a cry of agony as his tender upper torso struck the dirt
with a jarring force.

A gun shot rang out, and the historian stopped his attempts to get off the
ground. “That’s enough.” Chris Larabee’s voice was as harsh as the
resounding of his revolver had been .

JD had made it to Buck’s side now and was trying to keep him from moving.
“Dang’it, Buck, what the heck are you trying to do?  Get your fool self
killed?”

“Help me up, kid?” Wilmington ground out. “I’ve got some business to settle.”

“No way.” JD held his hand firmly on his best friend’s shoulder. “Just lie
still. You’re bleeding again.” The kid’s worried eyes were focused on the
growing red spot on the front of the gunslinger’s shirt.

“I’m alright, kid,” Buck assured, his voice losing some of it’s anger.
Some where in his less than lucid state he realized that the last thing he
wanted was to give JD another scare.

“Boy’s right, Thomas. You best stay down.” Brett said, wiping at his busted
lip.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“That’s a joke,” Buck growled, his temper flaring once more, “and don’t
call me that.”

“What?” Brett shrugged. “It is your name.”

“Not the one I use, the one I’ve used for over thirty years.”

“I always told you that ‘Bucklin’ sounded like a dog’s name,” the historian
stated, dusting the dirt from his navy jacket.

“What is going on here?” Nathan had just made it out of the jail in time to
watch Buck’s display. Upon making it to the saloon he shot Vin and Ezra a
reprimanding glare as he knelt beside his patient. “I thought you two were
suppose to be watching him.”

“Easier said than done,” Vin replied, sharing a knowing look with Standish.

“Damn’it , Buck,” Jackson snapped, as he raised his patient’s shirt,
“you’ve opened up that wound again.”

“I’m alright, Nate!” Wilmington pushed at the healer’s hand.

“Sure you are, pard.” Chris Larabee stepped forward and none so gently,
jerked his oldest friend to his feet.

“Ow!” Buck protested the rough treatment.

“Shut-up, Buck.” Larabee turned to Vin and Ezra. “Will you two please see
if you can manage to get him back to the clinic?”

“Take it easy, Chris,” JD reached out to steady Wilmington, who began to
sway some now that Chris had let him go.

“Go with them, JD.  Brett and I need to have a little talk.”

“Why? What’d he do?” Dunne looked from his new friend to his hero.

“It’s alright, son.  Do what he says.” Williams offered the kid a
reassuring smile.

“Don’t tell him what to do!” Buck roared, nearly escaping the grip Vin had
on him now. “Don’t even talk to him. He’s nothing to you. You got that,
Brett! ”

“Buck, what has gotten in to you!?” JD asked, throwing his hands in the
air. “Has everyone gone crazy or something?  We weren’t gone ‘that’ long!”

“It seems that our visitor from the coast has not been exactly honest with
us, Mr. Dunne.” Ezra explained. “He rendered your services under false
pretenses.”

“I did no such thing, Mr. Standish.  I came here to check on the mission.
That was no lie.”

“No, you just lied about your name, and let Ezra win this from you.” Buck
reached in his pocket and pulled out the silver watch.

“I won that honestly, Mr. Wilmington,” Standish protested, getting an
exasperated look from Vin.

“Sorry, Ez,” Buck told his friend, “but when it comes to cards, Brett is an
even better cheat than you. He wouldn’t lose unless he wanted to.”

“And what reason would I have to lose, Thomas , especially a family heirloom.”

“How should I know?” Buck raged. “I stopped trying to figure you out years
ago.”

“Buck, what’s going on?” JD asked, focusing on the weakening form in front
of him.

“It’s a long story, kid,” Wilmington reached out to lay a hand on his
friend’s shoulder but the world chose that very moment to tilt suddenly on
it’s axis.

“Whoa there, pard.” Vin caught the gunslinger before he stumbled.

“I’m al..righ..,” Buck started, but never quite finished, as the scene
around him began to spin, and he gave in to the blackness pulling at him.
The last thing he heard was JD call his name and then his body went limp,
the time piece slipping from his grasp and landing in the dirt near the teen’s feet.

Luckily, Ezra was ready this time when his friend went down, and with the
combined strength of he and Tanner, they managed to keep him off the ground.

“Buck?” JD stepped forward, the color draining from his face, but Chris
caught his arm, keeping him out of Jackson’s way.

“Easy, kid.”

“Damn fool,” Nathan hissed, as he felt for a pulse on his patient’s neck.
“Let’s get him to my place, boys.  I ain’t lettin’ him out of that bed for
a week this time.”

“Is he going to be alright, doctor?”  Brett asked, his concern mirroring
that of JD.

Larabee nodded for Jackson to continue on. “What’s it to you?” Chris asked
as Vin and Ezra started after Nathan, their injured partner in tow.

“I think you know the answer to that, Larabee.”

“Well I don’t.” JD looked from each man, and then to the unconscious form
of his best friend being carried away. He was torn.  Part of him wanted to
go with Buck, but the other part really needed to understand what had just
happened. “I don’t have a clue
as to what is going on.” The teen bent down to retrieve the watch his best
friend had dropped.

“This is Brett Wilmington, JD,” Chris explained. “Not, Williams. He’s Buck’s
brother.”

“Brother?” JD slowly stood, his heart threatening to pound its way through
his tightening chest. “I don’t understand. Buck doesn’t have a brother.”
*Well, ‘least not any except for me.*

“I can explain everything, JD.” Brett offered with a look that suddenly was
all too familiar to Dunne. The teen took a step backwards and shook his head.

“I..I...I’ve got to go check on Buck.”

“JD,” Chris started, recognizing the hurt expression on the boy’s face, but
the sheriff turned and ran off towards the clinic.

“Damn,” Larabee hissed, turning his gaze onto the cause of the present
conflict at hand.

“I don’t think you all chose the best way to handle that with the boy,”
Brett said with a tone of disappointment. “Thomas should have thought of
his feelings before he made such a scene.”

“Listen to me, Brett,” Chris wrapped his hands in the other man’s lapels
and shoved him against the hitching post in front of the saloon.  “I don’t
know what you’re up to.  In fact, I don’t care what you’re up to; but I do
care what happens to your brother and JD.  So, leave them out of it!”
The gunslinger released the other man with one last shove.
“Did I make that clear enough for you? Or would a night in jail for impersonation
and fraud make everything a little more vivid? Or better yet, how about a week?”

Brett held up his hands in surrender. “No need to be vengeful, Chris.  I promise to be on my best behavior.”

“That’s what worries me,” Chris scoffed. “Try just leaving town quietly for a change, got it.”

Brett sighed, and straightened his jacket. “Family reunions are always so much fun.”

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

 The first shards of the rising sun found JD Dunne sitting exactly where he had been not more
than three days ago- at his best friend’s bedside, waiting and worrying.

Jackson had told him that Buck would be fine, that he had just overdone it, and that the
laudanum that he had given him would make him sleep.  Still, until the gunslinger woke up and
told him himself that he was alright, the teen wouldn’t be getting much rest.

Besides, there were too many questions swirling around in his head and nagging at his heart.
‘How could Buck not mention that he had a brother?  Why would he keep something so
important from JD of all people? Maybe the two weren’t as close as JD thought they were-
needed for them to be.’

“Maybe I’m thinkin’ too much,” JD murmured out loud, raking a hand through his dark hair.

He received a low moan from the patient in reply.

“Buck?” the teen leaned closer to the bed, letting his fingers brush against the older man’s arm.
“Can you hear me?”

“Owww,” Wilmington hissed, as his eyes blinked open and he fought to focus in on the blurry
version of his protege’. “What hit me?”

"Not what, Who?" JD watched the confusion fade away from Wilmington's features as he slowly
won the first battle to clear the medicine-induced cobwebs from his mind.

“I’m guessin’ this new throbbing in my side means Nate ain’t too happy with me, huh?”

“Neither am I,” JD replied honestly and then asked the question he had been waiting all night to
ask. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what, kid?" The gunslinger replied hoarsely, gingerly pushing himself up in the small
bed.

The teen reached for the water Nathan had left on the night stand and handed it to his friend, at
the same time scowling in frustration. "Dang it, Buck. You know what I'm talking about. 'Him'."

Buck greedily drank the water offered him before replying. "There ain't much to tell," he said,
handing the tin cup back to his best friend.

JD sat the water down and held up the pocket watch he had been studying for the last four hours.
"This says differently."

Buck took the trinket with a shaky hand. "This doesn't mean anything to me."

The tone of the words were harsh, but the look in the wounded gunslinger's eyes told another
story.  JD had glimpsed several times behind the wall of the older man's defenses before. Unlike
Chris, who hid himself away by the subterfuge of anger and solemness, Buck used humor and
fun. Still, although on the surface very different, both tactics served their users well; and
for a moment JD was caught off guard by the rawness of emotion he saw reflected on his friend's
face.

"It looks like a real family heirloom," JD said softly, “sort of like the one Olivia stole from ya."
The teen easily recalled the watch his friend had won in a poker game and tried to pass off as an
important part of his past.  Maybe their had been some truth to Buck's words after all, and the
watch had represented something more important than the youth had realized.

"It's just a stupid watch." Wilmington cleared his throat and glanced back up at the teen. "It
belonged to my father."

"So Brett really is your brother?"

Buck handed the timepiece back to his friend. "He stopped being my brother twenty years ago,
kid."

JD didn't miss the way that Buck continued to look at the watch even as he laid it on the night
stand. "Is that why you never mentioned him to me before?"

The injured gunslinger met the teen's gaze. "He ain't worth talkin' about, JD."

The foreign sound of JD instead of 'kid' or 'son', or some other nickname, alerted Dunne to the
fact that the conversation was about to be over. However, there were some things that the teen
needed to understand. "You told me that it was just you and your ma while you were growing
up."

"It was."

"But..where was , Brett? He's not that much older than you and.."

"Just drop it, kid," Wilmington interrupted with a frustrated sigh. "Don't you have something
better to do than sit around here and pester me?"

Lines of determination wrinkled the kid's forehead and Buck knew that the dreaded conversation
wasn't over.

"Why would Brett lie about who he was? I told him about you; but he never once let on like he
knew you."

"How the hell should I know!?" Buck threw his arms up in exasperation, but winced as the
movement sent a slicing pain down his side, and caused JD to jump. He closed his eyes and
leaned back against the headboard, trying to will himself to calm down.  "I haven't
talked to the son of a bitch in over six years, kid. Since he's got more angles than a barbed wire
fence bordering the Gulf of Mexico, I'd say your guess is as good as man."

"Why'd he call you, Thomas?"

Buck's eyes flew open and what little restraint he had left flew right out the window. "Damn it,
JD!" he yelled. " I don't give a shit what he calls me because as far as I'm concerned the man
doesn't exist!"

The gunslinger's outburst shouldn't have surprised the teen considering what had transpired the
last few hours, but still JD was caught off guard by the venom in Buck's words. Unfortunately,
any feelings of guilt for causing his friend any further duress were replaced by a hurt fueled anger
of his own.

"That much is obvious, Buck, considering you ain't never mentioned him not once in the past two
years."

"I don't tell you everything, JD! Especially when it ain't none of your damn business. Can't you
get that through that mule head of yours? "

JD stood abruptly, his chair falling back against the floor with a resounding thud. " Don’t worry,
Buck. I'm starting to understand a whole mess of things," he replied.

Before Wilmington could say anything else, the door to the clinic opened and a very unhappy
Nathan Jackson entered. "What is going on in here? I heard ya'll all the way down
on the street."

"Nothing, Nate." JD was the one to answer, as he picked his hat up from the bureau. "I was just
leaving. I have a long day tomorrow, or should I say this morning."

"A long day of what?" Wilmington swung his feet over the side of the bed and started to stand
up.

Jackson made it to his patient's side in three quick strides. "Buck, you open those stitches up
again and I swear that I'll let you bleed to death."

Buck went no further but he kept his gaze on JD. "I asked you a question, kid? You ain't planning
on going back out to that mission with Brett, are you?"

"It ain't none of your concern, Buck!"

"The hell it ain't." Buck's temper was once again in control of his mouth. "My brother isn't my
concern?"

"So, now he's your brother?"

Wilmington stood, despite Nathan's protest. "That ain't what I meant!"

"What do you mean?" JD asked, his hazel eyes never wavering from the form of his best friend.

Buck sighed in frustration and looked at Jackson, who held up his hands and took a step back as
if to say, 'you're on your own'.

Wilmington glared at the doctor and faced the teen once more. "Are you planning on helping,
Brett?"

"I already made a deal with him," JD explained. "A man's only as good as his word. At least
that's what you always told me."

"Brett doesn't give a shit about honor, kid," Buck growled. "You tell him that you've changed
your mind."

The teen's face flushed with anger. "If you haven't noticed, Buck, I can make up my own dang
mind, and I can make my own decisions."

"Not when they're stupid ones!" Buck regretted his choice of words instantly, especially after the
look of hurt that crossed JD's features.

Instead of saying anything in rebuttal the youth settled his hat sharply on his head and stormed
out the door.

"JD!" Wilmington called, starting after his friend. A firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let him go, Buck."

The gunslinger pulled from the healer's grasp, nearly doubling over in pain as he did. "Damn it,
Nate," he ground out, through clenched teeth, “I need to talk to him. He doesn't understand."

"What you need is to get back in that bed," Jackson scolded, as he escorted the mustached man
back to the cot. "And what 'you' don't seem to understand is that I'm tired of you messin' up my
handy work and I'm sure JD's tired of listening to your rantings."

"Like he ever listens to me?" Wilmington grumbled as he eased himself back onto the bed.

Jackson shook his head at the man's ignorance. "Maybe you're the one that needs to listen for a
change," he pointed out.

The healer lifted Buck’s shirt to inspect his bandages as he talked. “You’re always too eager to
jump in and tackle whatever demons you think the boy’s facing. Sometimes your fixin’ is worse
than the problem. Maybe just once you could lend him an ear, instead of trying to give him a
hand.”

Buck sighed in frustration. “I just don’t want him to make any mistakes.”

Nathan eased the gunslinger’s shirt back down and looked sympathetically at his friend. “A
person learns form his mistakes, Buck.”

Wilmington shook his head. “I understand that, Nate. I just don’t want JD to have to learn the
hard way about Brett’s mistakes.”

“Like you did?” Jackson held his friend’s gaze.

Buck nodded. “It ain’t no easy lesson, doc, let me tell ya’.” A rueful smile tugged at the corner of
the gunslinger’s mouth. “I learned real fast at an early age what Brett was all about.”

The healer remained silent and watched the other war with old memories.

“Brett thinks of one person, and one person only. Himself.  It’s always been that way. He left us
as soon as he could find a way out, without even a moment’s thought as to what might become of
me or our mother.”

“It must of been hard on you,” Nathan said, knowing all too well what it was like to be separated
from ones family.

Buck looked away from Jackson to stare out at the window beside them. “I was about eleven , I
reckon. I remember because it was like a day before my twelfth birthday and I was real excited
about the party my ma had planned, and about the present I thought I was getting.”

“What was that?” The healer asked, bringing Buck’s gaze back to him.

“There was this stupid watch..,” the gunslinger’s eyes roamed to the night stand where JD had
laid the very timepiece he was speaking of, “that belonged to our daddy.  This stupid watch that
Brett always teased me with. “ Buck glanced up at Nathan once again. “He’d always say that he
got to keep daddy’s watch because he was the oldest, the man of the family,  and that some day
when I became a man, then he’d give it to me, just like our father’s brother gave it to him.”

Buck laughed bitterly. “I use to ask him all the time when I was finally going to be a man, and
he’d say probably never, but he guessed turning twelve was good enough.” Wilmington leaned
his head back against the wall. “That watch was the only connection I had with my father. It was
the only thing I remembered about him.”

“Did he give it to you for your birthday?” Nathan asked finally, hoping to break the silence that
had settled around them.

Buck raised his head. “When I woke up the morning of the big day, I didn’t have the watch or a
brother. I had become the man of the house though, because Brett had taken off with our horse
and most of our money.”

“He didn’t tell you all where he was going or nothing?”

“We got a telegram a couple of months later from Sacramento.  We heard from him occasionally
after that, usually ‘round Christmas, but the last time I saw him Chris and I were working a cattle
drive out in Colorado territory.” Wilmington rubbed at his eyes. “He’d gotten himself into a mess
with some fool scheme of his and Chris just about got his head blown off when we had to pull
Brett’s fat out of the fire. I might have been more forgiving that time if me and Chris hadn’t
ended up spending the week in jail after Brett skipped town with the Sheriff’s horse.”

“Did you tell JD any of this?” Nathan asked.

Buck raised his head and looked at the healer. “I didn’t think it was something he needed to
know.”

Jackson shook his head. “Then you shouldn’t get so upset with JD when he don’t understand why
you don’t want him around Brett. All he knows is what he’s seen of the man so far.”

“I know that, Nate,” Buck huffed, “but I ain’t willing to let the kid go and get hurt just because he
thinks Brett is some kind of modern day pirate, who wants to take him on some great adventure
out of the goodness of his heart.”

Jackson sighed and let his hand rest briefly on Wilmington’s shoulder. “JD’s got a good head on
his shoulders, he knows more about people than what we all give him credit for sometimes. After
all, he’s had a good teacher.” Nathan smiled. “Right now, I just think he’s a little riled up about
the whole idea of Brett.”

“What do you mean?” Wilmington asked, still not grasping what Nate was trying to point out.

Jackson gave Buck’s shoulder a squeeze before standing up to go. “Get some rest, Buck. It’ll
come to you...or the kid will one.”

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

Ezra looked up from his chess game with Inez when JD Dunne blew in the doors of the saloon.
The young man barely glanced his way as he strode towards one of the few occupied tables and
for a moment Standish wondered if Buck had taken a turn for the worse.

The teen stopped in front of Brett Wilmington who was seated near the bar where Ezra stood.
The ‘historian’ had been involved in an all night poker game, that Standish had opted not to join
after seeing the eldest Wilmington had his hands in the pot, and was still counting his winnings.
“I’ll meet you at the livery in an hour,” the gambler heard his young partner tell the conman.

“I take it that my brother didn’t succeed in curbing your interest in our little venture?” Brett
looked up at the teen and raised an eyebrow. “That is, if he has awoken yet.”

“He’s awake,” JD told him. “I wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t.”

“That’s good to here, “ Brett said, and sounded sincerely relieved. “But I’m surprised he would
allow you to come near me, let alone accompany me out to Santa Bel.”

“I do what I want to do, Mr. Willia.., Brett. I made a deal with you and I intend to keep it.”  .

Wilmington laughed. “Okay, flash. I’ll see you in an hour then. “

After JD left the saloon Ezra couldn’t help but to feel Brett’s attention drift towards him and the
chessboard that rested on the bar between Inez and himself. Even before the batwing doors had
ceased their swinging, the man had risen and made his way to stand beside Standish.

“Can I get you anything, senor?” Inez asked as she moved her knight to Ezra’s queen, nearly
securing a position for it to be taken upon her next move.

“No mam, just admiring your technique,” Brett answered, winking at the woman.

Rosios turned her attention back to Ezra. “Yes, it looks like one of Senor Standish’s pieces is in
bad company.” With an arch of a dark eyebrow, she retreated to the backroom to refill a small
basket of peanuts, leaving her opponent to study his next move.

Ezra’s voice was light as he spoke aloud. “That is one of the fascinating aspects of chess. How
one piece can seemingly be on its own-defenseless, as one may see it.” Standish barely glanced in
Brett’s direction as he plucked his rook up and relocated it to a position to protect the queen.
“When in fact,” sharp green eyes rose to meet Brett’s dark brown ones, “there are many
surrounding ‘pieces’ available to protect it.” One corner of Standish’s mouth turned up slightly.
“But I’m sure the intricacies of games of strategy are nothing new to a man such as yourself.
Besides, I don’t want to keep you from your appointment with our Mr. Dunne.”

Wilmington smiled before tossing several silver dollars on the bar. “Tell Miz Inez I said thank
you for the kind service.” Brett tipped his hat in Ezra’s direction and started to go, but stopped
suddenly and turned back to face the southerner.

“I almost forgot.” He tossed another coin in the air, which Ezra caught. “That’s for hooking me
up with JD. He was exactly what I was looking for.” The conman winked at Standish and
practically skipped from the saloon. Once on the other side of the entrance he cast one more
glance inside. “If I’m not mistaken, Ez,  I believe ‘that’ would be Check for me.”

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

“Buck must have woken up,” Vin said, from his position on the front porch of the jail, where he
was sitting with his best friend.  The two watched as Dunne exited the saloon and strode
purposefully to the livery.

“JD don’t look too happy about it.” Chris took a drink of his coffee and sit it back on the checker
board table. “Guess someone should keep an eye on him, seeing as how he’s riled and all.”

Vin looked at the black-clad man and a slow grin spread across his features. “Guess someone
should.”

A slight smile tugged at the corner of Larabee’s mouth. “So I guess you’ll be riding out then.”

Vin slowly stood and stretched. “Guess I will,” he glanced back to the other man, “right after you
buy me breakfast, that is.”

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

It was a quiet ride back to Santa Bel.  JD kept up a pace that allowed him to stay slightly in front
of Brett the whole way there, and Wilmington made no great effort to join his associate.  Both
men seemed lost in a world of their own, and neither ever noticed the other rider following them
from a distance.

“Are you going to stay completely silent during this whole journey, flash.  That doesn’t seem to
be your nature?” Brett finally asked when the two had slowed their horses to go through the stand
of trees that would lead to the mission.

JD glanced at the man and then back to the trail before him. “Why’d you pretend not to know ,
Buck?”

“Contrary to what my brother believes, JD, I didn’t know he was in Four Corners.” Brett wasn’t
exactly lying. He hadn’t known Buck was there until he’d arrived the week before. “I was very
surprised to see him last night.”

When the teen didn’t reply, the conman continued. “Besides, I’m not use to calling him Buck. I
always like Thomas better. Our mother should have named the dog Bucklin.”

Dunne chanced another look in Brett’s direction as they entered the courtyard of Santa Bel. “You
two don’t seem very close.”

Wilmington laughed. “You are quick, flash. What in the world gave that little secret away? Was
it when Thomas practically accused me of absconding with his young protege, or when he
greeted me with that sucker punch?”

“Buck can be a little ..hotheaded, sometimes,” JD said, dismounting Seven.

“Yes, he’s always been that way,” Brett replied, dropping to the ground also. “He’s a slave to his
emotions, I’m afraid. A weakness he inherited from our father.”

JD hitched his horse to one of the only standing posts left at the old mission, and cast a serious
gaze in Brett’s direction. “Buck’s one of the best men I’ve ever known.” The kid moved to stand
toe to toe with Wilmington. “He’s taught me more than I can ever repay him for, so as long as
I’m around no one’s going to say anything against him.”

Brett held his hand up in surrender. “I didn’t mean what I said in a bad way, flash. I was only
trying to explain the differences between my brother and myself.”

“I can see the differences,” JD replied.

“Yet you’re still here?” Brett asked, a smug smile crossing his face.

“I’m here because I told you I’d help.”

“It has nothing to do with curiosity? Maybe a little urge to actually find El Colores de las
Ondas?”

Dunne frowned at the man, and retrieved the picture Casseopaya had lent them from his saddle
bag. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“As you wish. You are in charge, after all.”

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

Vin watched from a stand of trees as JD and Brett left their horses and ventured inside of the
remaining walls of the mission.  He didn’t like the thoughts of spying on the kid, but Chris was
right. Something about Brett just didn’t set right.  The man couldn’t be trusted, and Vin , guilty
conscience or not, wasn’t about to let the kid be a victim to his own good nature. He took his hat
off and put his spy glass away. Leaning back against a rock, he decided to wait and see what took
place before making his presence known. Maybe , there’d be no reason to let the kid know he
was there at all.

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

JD stood looking at the courtyard and then glanced back at the picture Brett was holding.  “I
really wish there was an X on this map,” the kid sighed.

The two had been searching the grounds for nearly an hour trying to figure out exactly where the
bell tower might have been. Although the painting was helpful in finding the right vicinity, it
didn’t give them all the needed.  The center of the mission was still bare, except for the
tumbleweeds and rubbish scattered about.

The teen walked off from Brett, who was still staring intently from his map to the picture, and
strolled around the grounds. He was kicking at some lose rocks when he noticed a shadow, cast
from one of the only windows left intact in the building.

Dunne tilted his head a moment, and then looked back over his shoulder. “Hey ,Brett, what did
you say that pitch fork thing that Neptune carried was called.?”

Wilmington looked up and his eyes narrowed. “A triton, why?”

JD turned and looked back at the ground. “Maybe, Father Christabel did mark his treasure with
an X.”

The conman made his way towards the boy and stared down at what had captured JD’s attention.
“What have you got, flash?”

“The shadow from that window, doesn’t it kind of look like a triton?”

Sure enough the three-pronged fork displayed on the dust covered ground did appear to be an
outline of a triton. Brett raised his eyes to the window that it was being cast from and noticed the
frame was different than any he had seen before. It was structured in the shape of a fork instead
of a lower case t.

“My dear boy, I believe you’ve proven yourself a true modern day pirate!” Brett slapped JD on
the back.”

“You think this is it?” the teen asked, not able to mask his excitement that was building. “We’ve
found it?”

“I’m willing to bet, if we dig right here, we’ll find just what we’re looking for.”

“I’ll go get the shovels,” JD said, not giving Wilmington a chance to say anything further. “I’ll be
right back.”

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

Vin was startled from his daydreaming when he saw JD bound from the mission at a full run. The
kid rushed to his horse and unstraped a bundle from Seven’s back. “What are you up to, kid?” the
tracker mumbled to himself, raising his spyglass to get a better look.

No sooner had Dunne appeared, he turned and trotted back into the mission, where Vin was
denied even a glimpse of what was going on. Deciding he better get a closer look, the ex-bounty
hunter stood and made his way towards Santa Bel.

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

Brett and JD only had to dig for a moment before JD’s shovel struck something that felt like
metal. “I think I found something!” The kid practically bounced up and down.

Brett shoved the boy out of the way, and fell to his knees where he began to brush away the dirt.
Instead of the chest that JD was expecting, like the one in the pirate story, the only thing
Wilmington uncovered was what looked like a cellar door.

“What do we have here?” Brett rubbed his hands together in anticipation, but frowned when he
noticed the heavy padlock around the handles. “Shall you do the honor, Mr. Dunne,” the
historian glanced to JD’s sidearms. “I do detest violence.”

The kid grinned. “Step back, and I’ll show you a think or two.”

Wilmington stood and stepped a few feet a way, watching as JD drew both his colts and fired.
The lock was no longer a problem.

Brett whistled. “Did Thomas teach you that?”

JD smiled. “Yep.”

Vin was sure his heart ceased to beat when he heard the gunshots echo around the mission walls.
He had just entered the front and hadn’t caught sight of Brett or JD. Now, all caution and
hesitation was thrown to the wind as Vin drew his own gun and took off at a dead run into the
courtyard.  “JD!” the tracker called as he dashed past the archway and saw both the kid and Brett
kneeling on the ground a few yards away.

Dunne’s head jerked up and he instinctively drew his guns again and aimed them at the
tracker before the voice had a chance to register. “Dang it, Vin!” the kid berated his friend, as he
recognized the buckskin-clad form. “Scare a person to death, why don’t ya’?”

“Are you alright?” Tanner asked, lowering his weapon, but not putting it away as he made to join
the other two men.

“I’m fine,” Dunne replied. “What the heck are you doing here?”

“I heard the gunshots.”

“All the way back in Four Corners?” Brett arched a brow. “You must be an even better tracker
than I imagined, Mr. Tanner.”

Vin ignored the man, and instead looked at JD. “Chris thought it would be a good idea if I swung
by here.”

“You mean he thought it would be a good idea if you kept an eye on me?” JD said, with an
exasperated look in his friend’s direction. “I can’t believe you were spying on me, Vin.”

“That ain’t how it was, kid,” Tanner tried.

“Oh? Then what do you call it?”

“Gentlemen,” Brett interrupted the escalating argument, “as much as I would like to be privy to
this sibling disagreement, I was rather hoping to get around to what I came here for.”

“You found the treasure?” the tracker asked, almost glad for a chance to change the subject.

“JD did,” Wilmington said proudly.

“Well just a door actually,” JD replied, looking down to the darkened entrance he and Brett had
uncovered. “But we think it probably leads to where the monks hid the necklace.”

Tanner moved alongside the teen and peered down into the blackness. “Don’t look like there’s
any steps. Could be a hell of a drop.”

“We brought rope,” JD picked up the cord he had bundled up with the shovels and other
equipment. “I can go down and check it out.”

“No way,” Tanner replied. “We don’t know what’s down there.”

“You just had to come ruin my fun, didn’t you,” JD mumbled tossing the rope back to the
ground.

“Why don’t we all go?” Brett suggested. “We’ll tie the rope to the pillar behind us. It looks
sturdy enough. That way JD can still come, and you can keep an eye on him, Mr. Tanner. Or an
eye on me, whichever you really came to do.”

“Please, Vin,” JD could see the hesitation in his partner’s eyes and he knew he had to pull out the
big guns. “It was your idea for me to help Brett in the first place. You said it’d be an adventure.”

Tanner sighed, looking from pleading hazel eyes to Brett’s grinning face. “Yes, please, Vin,” the
conman said.

“Alright,” the tracker conceded, pinning Wilmington with an ice blue gaze. “But you go first,
Brett.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the conman replied, with a wink in JD’s direction.

It didn’t take long for the three to rig up their means of entrance. JD lit the torches he had
brought and handed one to Brett, before he and Vin carefully lowered the man into the pit.

The depth turned out to be about twenty feet, and Wilmington had to drop the last few feet to the
ground because of the lacking length of rope.

“What do you see?” JD called.

“It looks like some kind of chamber,” Brett yelled back up. “Maybe a tomb of some kind.”

Dunne lifted his eyes to lock gazes with Vin. “A tomb? Like where they bury people?”

A lop-sided grin tugged at Tanner’s mouth. “You still want to go, kid?”

JD rolled his eyes and took hold of the rope. “I’m not afraid, I was just wondering is all.”

“Sure kid,” Vin slapped the boy on the back. “Sure.”

“You’ll be right behind me?” JD asked, before easing himself over the edge.

Vin’s grin widened. “That’s what I’m here for, ain’t it?”

Dunne returned his friend’s smile before scurrying down the rope into the darkened cavern.
Brett had moved a few feet away, and JD could see a narrow walkway that led into what looked
like another room.

The historian was just making his way to the entrance and JD didn’t wait for Tanner, but instead
followed after Brett.

The kid was glad to see that no dead bodies seemed to be included in the tomb, but it had its fair
share of cobwebs. He brushed away some silky strands that clung to his face as he entered the
same door Brett had, and came to an abrupt stop at the sight that greeted him.

On the other side of the room there was an altar decorated with small statues and candles. Brett
was standing in front of it, and JD could see the small wooden chest clearly by the light of
Wilmington’s torch.

The teen heard Vin call his name, but he continued on into the room and joined the historian in
front of the treasure.

Brett couldn’t believe his eyes, he’d done it. He’d finally found his pot of gold at the end of the
rainbow. The necklace was glowing, calling to him.

He quickly took the first step of the altar and let his hand reached up and brushed against the glittering
sapphires and diamonds.

So beautiful.

Vin entered the room in time to watch the many emotions play on the historian’s face as he
reached El Colores de las Ondas. He wasn’t surprised when the man seemed to forget about him
and JD and went straight to the goods. Tanner followed his line of sight and couldn’t help being drawn to the beauty of the
jewelry also. It was indeed a bobble of fortune, but there was something not right here.

The tracker shook his head lightly to break the spell and began inspecting their surroundings.

The stone room seemed to be well preserved but the hair on the back of the sharpshooter’s neck suddenly flared as his gaze
landed back on the necklace and the box of jewels it was laid out upon.

That’s when he saw it. A wire of some kind attached to the back of the small chest.
Someone staring directly at the box , or it’s mesmerizing contents, would never have noticed it.

*Damn.* How stupid could he be not to expect traps.

As he watched Brett reach for the treasure, he saw the line go taut and a
slight rumbling noise started.

“Brett, DON’T!” Tanner knew the other man hadn’t heard him when he never broke his gaze
from the jewels. Vin glanced around quickly, trying to gauge where the sound originated and
when he did, he felt his heart stop.

An overhang of well placed rocks were perched precariously above the kid’s position beside of
Brett on the altar.

The platform they were on was beginning to tremble and the tracker knew he had to
get JD out of the way, fast.

Dunne, who hadn’t seen anything so vibrant in all his young life, had followed Wilmington
blindly to the treasure.

It shimmered and shined like it had just been made yesterday. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it.
No wonder Brett had been so desperate to find the necklace. It was definitely a once in a lifetime
accomplishment.

The boy tried to will the other man to hurry. He wanted to touch the treasure
for himself and be convinced he wasn’t just imagining it all.

He was vaguely aware of the sharpshooter moving behind them, and even heard Tanner say Brett’s name, but he expected it
was just Vin being his usual cautious self. Unfortunately, he was startled from that line of thinking as a sudden
rumble erupted throughout the cavern and he felt a vicious shove from behind him.

It sent him sprawling to the stone floor but not before something large and heavy impacted with
his right shoulder. JD wasn’t sure what was happening, but a loud snap, followed by a raining of rocks from above
them gave him a good idea. Once the falling debris seemed to stop, JD tried to push himself up
from the ground, but grimaced as he felt his right arm give way.

He had a feeling something was broken and Nate wasn't going to be too happy about it. Neither
was Buck.

Rolling on to his back and cradling his injured limb against him, he tried another tactic. He
waved the dust away from his face and tried to blink some of the debris from his eyelashes to survey the damage.

Slowly making it to his knees Dunne gasped at the sight that greeted him. Half of the steps to the
altar and the place where the teen had been standing earlier were buried with rocks. JD felt his
stomach twitch at the thought of what would have happened if he had still been standing there.
The youth’s breath caught as he realized if  he wasn’t still there then someone had to have pushed
him aside.

*VIN!*

The kid swung his gaze over the cavern swiftly, trying to pinpoint the tracker.

He saw Brett struggling to his feet, dusty but otherwise unscathed. The
historian must have figured out what was happening and dove out of the way in the nick of time.
JD numbly noticed that the man had managed to retain a grasp on the small wooden box.

The teen finally got to his feet and began a frantic search for his partner. He reluctantly stepped
closer to the debris and finally spotted a leg just the other side of the rocks.

JD quickly scrambled around them trying not to disturb the pile and fell to his knees beside an unconscious Tanner. There was
blood streaming down the left side of his face and his left leg looked odd.

Dunne reached a hand out and pushed a lone boulder  the size of a cooking
pot from the ex-bounty hunter’s side. He then slid  the bloody tendrils of hair from Vin’s face to
get a better look at the wound. The gash didn’t seem  too deep, but it  was bleeding profusely.
The teen didn’t even attempt to examine the leg.
 
“Brett, I need...” JD coughed as a billow of dust surrounded him. He waited until he could catch his breath and continued in a
scratchy voice. “I need help over  here. Vin’s hurt bad.”

Dunne searched the area he had last spotted the  historian and blanched  in surprise as his eyes
fell  on emptiness. “BRETT!” The teen jumped to his feet ignoring the pain in his shoulder and
limped back down the corridor from which they had entered.

“Brett?”

The teen’s progress was hampered by the throbbing in his arm , which
felt like it was being ripped from it’s socket with each step, and by the
fact he hadn’t taken the time to pick up the torch he’d dropped.

When he did finally reach the entrance to the hole they had climbed down, he was rewarded with
the sight of Brett Wilmington scurrying up the last length of the rope. “Brett, what are you
doing?”

The conman didn’t stop or reply to the boy until he had made it to the top and started pulling the
rope up with him.

“Brett!” JD shouted again, trying to catch the end of their only means of escape.

“Sorry, flash,” Brett leaned over the hole once he’d finished successfully securing the cord. “I’ll
send back help when I get to Eagle Bend, I promise.”

“What?!” the teen demanded. “Vin’s hurt! You can’t just leave us down here.”

“Don’t worry, kid, I’m sure Thomas and the others will start to miss you two before it gets dark;
and if not, they’ll have my telegram before morning.”

“You’re running out on us!?” JD still couldn’t comprehend what was happening. He couldn’t
understand the concept of leaving a friend in trouble.

“I’m taking care of myself, kid. Didn’t Thomas tell you? That’s what I do best.”

“His name is Buck!” JD yelled after the man, who only tipped his hat to him and disappeared
from sight. “Buck! You here me, Brett! Not Thomas.” The kid took a shuddering breath and
fought back the urge to punch the stone wall in front of him. Anger, fear, and frustration warred
for dominance, but JD knew he had to stave off all three if he were going to get him and Vin out
of their predicament

He stared at the opening a little while longer weighing his options carefully. He could try and
climb out, but the crumbled remains of the stone steps weren’t very stable, and with his arm
hurting as bad as it was, he doubted he could pull himself out once he did reach the top.

Then there was Vin.

If JD was lucky enough to escape, there would be no way he could carry the tracker out, or pull
him up.

And there was no way he’d leave his friend behind. That thought never entered his mind.

No, he’d just have to stay, and pray that the others did start to miss them, like Brett had said.  As
always, the rest of the Seven were the only ones they could truly count on.

With another longing look at the only exit, JD turned and started back to where he had left the
tracker.  He didn’t want his friend waking up alone.  When he reached what was once the altar
where they had found El Color de las Ondas, he was more than relieved to see that Vin was
starting to stir.

He squatted down beside the tracker, bringing his arm tighter into his side
and patted Tanner lightly on the chest. “Take it easy, Vin.”

“What the hell happened?” the tracker asked groggily, trying to focus his eyes.

“I’m guessin’ the treasure was rigged,” JD sighed, “just like the one in that story Buck read me.”
Why hadn’t he remembered that earlier?

“Where’s Brett?” Vin asked, as he attempted to push himself up, but decided it was a bad idea
when his skull threatened to crumble if he moved again.

The kid hesitated a moment before answering. “ Brett’s gone to get help. The others will be here
soon.”

“He left with the treasure, huh?” Vin squinted up at the teen, raising one of his hands to press
against his aching head.

JD caught his hand before he could touch the nasty gash on his forehead. “How’d you know?”

“Just a guess,” Tanner sighed, allowing Dunne to place his hand back on the stone floor.

JD shrugged out of his coat and placed it across his friend. “Could everybody see through him
but me?”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with seeing the good in people, kid,” Vin replied weakly. “Don’t beat
yourself up ‘bout it.”

“Don’t have to, “ JD said, sitting beside his friend.  “Those rocks did a pretty good job for me.”

Vin’s eyes flew open again, and he tried to struggle to a sitting position despite the constant
spinning of the room.  “You hurt?”

“Mostly just my pride,” the kid replied, placing his good hand on the ex-bounty hunter’s shoulder
to keep him still. “Thanks to you, that is.”

Vin relaxed back to the cold floor and offered the kid a weak imitation of his lop-sided grin.
“You’re welcome. Maybe now Buck’ll forgive me for sending you with Brett in the first place.”

JD smiled despite himself. “Buck’s full of crap, Vin. You should know that by now.”

“He cares about you, kid,” Vin said tiredly. “ ‘You’ should know that by now.”

At that comment, the teen decided a change in the subject was needed. “You hurt anywhere else.
How ‘bout your leg?”

Vin took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on what exactly didn’t hurt.  The pounding in his
head was so overcoming that he hadn’t been able to notice much.  He could move his arms, and
for once, his ribs hadn’t taken the brunt of the punishment. Unfortunately, when he tried to move
his left leg, his knee gave great protest. “Shit!” Vin cussed. “That hurts.”

“Take it easy,” JD said, moving to the leg he suspected was injured. “I figured you must of hurt it
when you fell.”

“Feels like I wrenched it real good,” the tracker ground out. “I can probably still walk on it with
some help, though. I don’t think we can really count on Brett coming back with help.”

“No where to walk to, Vin,” JD replied, dreading spilling the rest of Brett’s betrayal.

“What do ya mean, kid?”

“I mean that Brett took the rope with him and there’s no way either of us can scale that wall.”

Tanner fought back a sudden wave of nausea and succeeded in pushing himself to a sitting
position this time. “He stranded us here on purpose?”

“Looks that way,” the teen replied.  He then turned hopeful hazel eyes on the ex-bounty hunter.
“But the guys will come looking for us, you know that.  They’ll be worried by sunset, especially
Buck, and I bet ya that we’ll be home before breakfast.”

Dunne hoped his words were giving his friend comfort, but as the hollowness in his assurances echoed around them, he knew it
was a weak attempt.  Still, Vin smiled slightly and nodded. “Sure they will, kid.” The tracker reached out a hand and
wrapped it around his young friend’s wrist, giving it a slight squeeze. “You know Ezra’s not going to pull double duty at the jail
to cover for our asses. He’ll be hell bent to find us, just so he can take his morning nap.”

The words got the desired effect and JD grinned. “Yep, an unrested Ezra, is not a pleasant Ezra.”
 
 

Ezra was not happy to be delegated the responsibility of doling out lunch to the miscreants in jail,
but since Nathan was off at the Farley place checking on a very pregnant Mrs. Farley , there
really wasn't anyone he could con into doing it.  After all, with JD gone, and Vin keeping an eye
on him, his only other two viable marks were gone.

Standish sighed as he set the trays down on the sheriff's desk in front of Josiah, who gave him a
slight nod, but otherwise continued to read the paper he held in his hands. Annoyed, Ezra turned
his attention to the two prisoners.  “Good day, gentlemen. Your share of Four Corner's fine
culinary delight has arrived."

"Does that mean we finally get fed?” Jack asked, leaning against the metal bars.

"You are astute in your assumptions, sir." Ezra looked to Sanchez once more. “That is if my
associate won't be too troubled by opening your cell for me."

Josiah put down the latest edition of the Clarion and winked at the southerner. "Not at all,
brother." The big preacher pulled open one of the drawers and retrieved the keys. "How's Buck
doing?" he asked, as he stood and stretched his large frame.

"Does the image of a caged tiger separated from her lost cub conjure up any mental images for
you, my friend?"

"I bet Chris is having fun." Josiah grinned.

"Let's just say that our fearless leader was not in the best of moods when I stopped by there
earlier."

"Are you two going to jab all day, or are ya going to feed us?" Jack called, banging his tin
drinking cup against the cell.

Ezra and Josiah both looked at the glaring boy. "I suppose we could continue our conversation
out on the porch and perhaps deliver your meal later," Standish
queried.

"Sounds good to me," Josiah replied. "These boys wouldn't mind waiting a little bit longer, I'm
sure."

"I mind," Darren called, slapping Jack on the back of the head. "I'm starving to death in here."

"Why'd you do that for?" Jack whined, rubbing the spot his brother had hit him. "Ain't my fault
they hadn't fed us in near two days."

"Well, it 'is' your fault we're in here."

"Wasn't me who messed up the bank job," Jack defended. "Blame that Wilmington fella' for us being here."

Ezra raised an eyebrow at the blond man. “Blaming the victim, how original."

"Hell,” Jack snorted. "That son of a bitch is anything but a victim."

Josiah threw a puzzled look in his partner's direction and then faced the prisoners. "I’d reckon
being shot would qualify one as a victim."

"I haven't shot the damned fool yet, but I plan on it when I get out of here - right after I get my share of
that treasure."

Darren glared at his younger brother. “Shut your mouth, Jack. You talk too much."

"Don't look at me like that," the youngest Dawson snapped. "You bought Wilmington's line, just
like me. Easy money from the bank. Easy money from the mission treasure. Whadda we got?
Nothin'. Except a whole mess of trouble."

"Shut-up, Jack!" Darren stepped closer to his sibling, but the clicking of a safety brought his eyes back to
the lawmen outside their cell.

"No, Jack," Ezra drawled. "Do continue."

Josiah smiled and leveled his own gun on the two men. "Yes, we insist."
 
 

"Damn it, Chris," Buck pushed away the drink that Larabee was offering him, “I told ya' I don't
want none of that crappy tea that Nate conjured up."

"Nathan said you 'needed' to drink it," Chris replied through gritted teeth. He had about all of
Wilmington that he could take. "It'll help fight infection."

"It makes a person fall asleep, Chris. I know what it does. Don't ya' think I've already used every
tactic in the book to get JD to drink that shit at some time or another."

"If that's the case, maybe I'll just pour it down you," Larabee replied. "A few hours of peace and
quiet from your mouth seems worth the trouble of a fight."

"Looks like we have arrived just in time," Ezra spoke up, waltzing through the door, Josiah right
behind him. "The last thing we need is another crime on our hands."

Buck and their leader glared at the two men. "I thought you boys were watching the Dawsons."
Chris was the first to speak, his annoyance not hidden.

"We've got trouble, brothers." Josiah strode purposefully across the room. "The Dawsons just
enlightened us to some very interesting facts."

"What?" Chris stood from the chair he was occupying and Buck pushed himself up farther in
bed.

"It would seem that when Vance Dawson escaped jail in Carson City, he also liberated another
prisoner that was sharing the accommodations there."

"Someone we know?" Buck looked to Standish.

Ezra hated what he was about to say and wished that Wilmington didn't look so much like JD at
that moment. "I'm afraid so, Mr. Wilm..Buck."

"Brett was with them," Josiah finished, reading the hesitation on the gambler's features.

"What!?" Buck and Chris said simultaneously.

"Yes, it seems our 'historian' promised Mr. Dawson a hearty chunk of a treasure that he was on
his way to Four Corners to retrieve in return for freeing him from his detainment."

Josiah nodded. "Brett rode out with the Dawson gang and they split up when the posse started
getting close. Seems Vance didn't trust his cell mate very much and decided to send Jack and
Darren along with him to secure their share of the find, whilst he and the others led the posse away."

"You telling me that Brett was in on the bank robbery?" Buck asked, his voice breaking slightly.

"It seems that your relation implanted that little notion in the 'not so smart' Dawson duo's heads
to turn their attention from him."

"From what those boys told us, Brett was suppose to be standing look out while they did the job,
but I'm willing to guess he was the mysterious man who ran down the street yelling that the bank
was being robbed," Josiah said with a sigh. "We never did find that witness."

"Damn him," Buck growled. "He set that whole thing in motion just so he could get the Dawsons
out of his way. Innocent people could've been killed."

" 'You' could have been killed," Chris pointed out fiercely.

"This does explain why the rest of the Dawson gang was not around, and why they have not
collected their compatriots so far," Ezra mused. "I doubt if they have a clue as to what is going
on."

"But Vance must have had a plan to meet back up with Brett," Chris replied. "Probably after the
dust settled some, and he had a chance to double back on the posse."

"We figured as much," Josiah said. "Unfortunately, our prisoners were reluctant to speak
anymore about their brother's whereabouts or what he might have in store
for Brett."

"Let me have a chance to talk to them," Buck spoke up, pushing the quilt off of him and
swinging his legs over the bed. "I'll have'em singing like a canary."

"Buck," Chris held his hand up, “you ain't doing nothing but staying in that bed."

"The hell I am..," Wilmington started, but his tirade was cut short as a breathless Nathan Jackson
burst through the door.

"We've got trouble, Chris!"

"What else is knew." Larabee raked a hand through his short blond hair.

"What is it, Nate?" Josiah asked.

"When I was out at the Farley's, their oldest boy Ty came in. He said he'd been down to Silver
Springs where he saw a whole bunch of men with guns."

"Dawson?" Josiah let his gaze go from the healer to Chris.

"That was my first thought," Jackson continued. "Tyrone said he hid in the bushes and watched them a while. He said when they
headed out they were going towards Sutter’s Point.”

“That’s near Santa Bel,” Buck said, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

“We better get out there.” Chris looked at Ezra and Josiah. “You two take our ‘prisoners’ and
lock them in the cellar in the church, just in case Dawson comes back here looking for them.”

Sanchez grinned. “A little time in church is good for every man’s soul.” He slapped Ezra on the
back as he started for the door. “We’ll get the horses ready and meet you at the livery.”

Larabee nodded and then glanced in Buck’s direction. “I ‘spose telling you to stay here would be
a waste of my breath.”

“You know it, pard,” Wilmington replied, pushing himself to a standing position. “I’d just follow
you.”

Nathan threw his hands up and sighed. “When is anyone ever going to actually listen to doctor’s
orders? I don’t know why I even bother.”
 
 

“Did you hear that?” JD asked Vin as he pushed himself shakily to his feet. “It sounded like
horses.”

The tracker, who was leaned up against the wall of the cavern carefully turned his head towards
the entrance of the tomb, but couldn’t make out much past the still present pounding in his skull.
“I don’t hear anything, kid.”

Dunne cocked his head and a slight grin graced his face. “It’s horses. I’m sure of it.  Someone’s
found us.” JD started for the opening , but hesitated. He didn’t really want to leave his friend,
who had been fading in and out for the last hour; but he needed to make sure whoever was above
knew that they were down there.

“Go on, JD,” Vin said, reading his friend’s thoughts. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Dunne nodded to the ex-bounty hunter. “I’ll be right back.”

“I know, kid. Now get going so we can make it home for dinner.”

The teen grinned and went to greet their rescuers. *Maybe Brett had changed his mind.*
 
 

“Neither of those horses out front is Wilmington’s, or Jack’s and Darren’s,” Seth Dawson told
his cousin. “Unless they changed rides, they ain’t here.”

“Well someone’s obviously here,” the tall slick-headed man retorted, looking around the remains
of Santa Bel. “Unless them horses belong to the ghosts.”

“Are you sure this is the place that Brett said the treasure was at? If it is, then where in the hell is
he, or Jack and Darren? ”Seth scratched at his chin. “Don’t look like any place I’d hide a
fortune.”

“What do you know?” Newt Dawson taunted his brother. “You ain’t never had more’an ten
dollars at a time.”

“That’s ten more dollars than you had...,” Seth started, but a cold stare from Vance cut his reply
off.

“Hush, both of you. I thought I heard something.”

“Is anybody out there?” JD yelled, hoping he hadn’t been imagining things earlier.

“It’s coming from the inside courtyard,” Newt pointed to opening within the mission.

The three men moved out towards the direction they had heard the voice.

“Hey!” JD called again, knowing he’d heard voices that time.  “We’re down here.”

Vance was the first one to make it to the opening in the ground and he dropped to his knees and
cautiously peered over. “Who’s down there?”

JD stared up at the opening, barely able to make out the strange face peering down at him. "JD
Dunne. Who’s up there?”

“How’d you end up down there, boy?” Vance replied, glancing over his shoulder at his cousins.
“Looks like you fixed yourself real good.”

“Yeah, sort of ,” JD answered. “Did Brett send you?"

The kid wasn't sure but it sounded like the man laughed.

"Fraid not, son.  Is he the reason you’re down there?. Did he double cross you, too?"

"I don’t know what you mean,” JD replied. “Do you know Brett or not?”
The teen's head was really beginning to hurt now. This day just seemed to keep getting stranger
and stranger.

"He works for me," the man answered, and this time the teen was sure he heard laughter coming
from above. There must have been more than the one man.

"Are you all from the museum?"

There was a moment of silence and JD was tempted to start back to where Vin was. He wasn’t
liking the feeling he was getting at all, but a reply from up top stopped him.

 "Sure we are, kid. Why don't we get you out of there and talk about Brett."

"My friend is hurt," JD called back. "I'll need some help getting him out."

"No problem," their rescuer replied. "Let me pull you up and then I'll send some of my men down
to get your friend.”

Dunne hesitated. He couldn’t explain it, but something told him that the men above had nothing
to do with any museum. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in the position to refute their claims, or refuse
their help. After all, where could he go, but up. And then there was Vin to think about. The
tracker needed to be back in Four Corners, not in a cold damp cavern. The rest would have to be
dealt with later.

“You still with us, boy?”

JD took a deep breath and hoped he was doing the right thing. “I’m here. Throw down a rope.”

Vance grinned at Seth. “You heard our new friend, cuz, go get us a rope.” The other man nodded
and started to go when Vance caught his arm. “And Seth, tell the boys to keep an eye out for
trouble, just in case anyone else decides to drop in on us.”
 
 

Brett had been riding almost an hour, and he couldn’t help but to quicken his pace as he neared
Four Corners.  A part of him knew he should stop in the town, leave a note for Buck or one of the
others; but it was too risky.

He liked JD Dunne, he was a smart kid, but Brett had learned a long time ago that getting ones
personal feelings confused with business could only get a person one thing-trapped. No, Dunne
and Tanner would be fine. Buck would be fine. Right now, Brett needed to concentrate on getting
himself to Eagle Bend and on a train back to San Francisco.  The sooner he made it to the city,
the sooner he could unload El Colores de las Ondas, and start living the life he had always
dreamed of. And the sooner he could forget about the life he had left behind twenty years ago.

His thoughts were running through his mind as fast as his mount was carrying him over the
parched earth, and that was the only excuse Brett could come up with for not hearing the
approaching riders in the distance. “Damn!” the conman swore, as he caught site of the imposing
black horse and it’s black-clad rider in the distance. Chris Larabee was followed by the rest of his
men, well, minus the two Brett had just abandoned.

The older Wilmington rolled his eyes heavenward and said a quick prayer. Although, he doubted
if even the gods could help him if the Seven found out exactly what he had done to their partners.
Now was the time for damage control.

“Boys!” Brett called, waving towards the approaching men. “Thank goodness I found you.”

“It’s Brett,” Buck said, spurring his horse on past Chris, to meet up with his brother.

“Where’s JD?” Nathan asked, drawing along side of Larabee and Josiah, who also had increased
their pace.

“And Vin?” Chris breathed, getting an all too familiar feeling about the whole situation. Seeing
the worried look on the older Wilmington’s face when they met up with him, did nothing to ease
the knot that was forming in the pit of his stomach.

“Where’s JD?” Buck demanded of Brett, even before his horse came to a complete stop.

“Now don’t go gettin’ all excited Thomas, but there was a slight accident back at the mission.”
The historian rushed to explain himself.

“Accident?!” the ladies’ man bellowed. “What kind of accident?”

“Was Vin with you?” Chris now circled his horse to the other side of Brett, and the conman
found himself beginning to sweat.

The thief searched out the gaze of the last of the Seven, which had hung back while his partners
surrounded Brett. However, Ezra’s gaze didn’t hold any sympathy for the fellow gambler, but a
demanding quality almost as intense as Larabee’s. “He was hurt when part of the cavern we were
in collapsed.”

“Is he alright?” Nathan asked, his healing nature kicking in. “What happened to him?”

“Where is he?” Chris stated coolly, before Brett had a chance to answer Jackson.

“He’s with JD, back at the mission.”

“Is JD okay?” Buck wanted to know. Something wasn’t right. He knew enough about Brett to
know the man wasn’t telling them something.

“The boy’s fine. He insisted on staying with Mr. Tanner.”

“While you came for help, of course?” Ezra finally spoke up, his voice holding none of its usual
lilt. “Did you at least find what you were looking for?”

“We were in the process of recovering the treasure when events took a turn for the worse,” Brett
replied, avoiding Larabee’s intense gaze he could feel burning a hole in the side of his head.

“Show us where,” Chris said.

“You know where the mission is , Chris,” Brett rushed to reply. “I think I should retrieve a
buckboard from town, while you all ride on to our young friends.”

“I don’t think so,” Larabee said, grabbing the reigns of the large white horse. “You are going
back with us. Josiah can go back to town to get the wagon.”

“Can do, brother,” the preacher replied. “I’ll be there on a wing and a prayer,” Sanchez added,
pulling his horse around and taking off back towards Four Corners.

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Brett mumbled, when Chris released his horse.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have,” Larabee replied. “Now let’s ride.”

The older Wilmington forced a smile, silently wondering if the little treasure he was carrying
really was cursed. “Let’s do this.”
 
 

It didn’t take long for Vance and Newt to get JD to the top of the cavern and the kid had to admit
he was relieved to see the sun again, even if he was a little shaken by the appearance of the men
who had rescued him. The one he recognized as the man he’d been talking with before was about
Josiah’s size, with arms the size of a small tree trunk.

“Thanks, mister,” the kid said, extending his good arm to Vance.

“You’re welcome,” Dawson replied, shaking the teen’s hand. He then turned to his cousins.
“You boys climb down and see if you can help this young man’s partner.”

“Be careful with him. His leg’s hurt,” Dunne told them.

“They’ll use kid’s gloves, I’m sure.” Vance smiled and led the teen towards a stone bench not far
away from the hole. “Now tell me, son, how did you and your friend come to be in that
situation.”

“It’s a long story,” JD replied, his gaze leaving the man and going back to where Vin was still
trapped. “Maybe you could come back to Four Corner’s with us, and I can tell you about there.”

“You’re from Four Corners, then?”

Dunned nodded. “We’re the law there. Part of it , least ways.”

Vance smiled. “You’re peace officers, but you work with a man like Brett Wilmington?”

JD focused on the huge man again. “I was helping him with his work for the museum.”

“You mean helping him find Neptune’s Promise?”

“Yeah,” the kid stood up, when he saw Seth crest the top of the cavern again.

“We got him, boss,” the man shouted. “He ain’t none too happy about it, though. He recognized
Newt.”

“What’s going on?” JD asked, taking a step back towards the entrance of the pit.

“Seems your friend isn’t too appreciative of the help we’re offering.”

“Why is that?” the teen backed away from the man.

Before Vance could reply another man entered the courtyard. “Dawson! We got company. Five
riders , one of ‘em is Wilmington.”

“Dawson,” JD breathed, a sickening realization crashing down upon him, like the rocks in the
temple had before. “You’re Vance Dawson.”

“You’re pretty smart, kid.” Vance pulled his gun. “So smart, that I’m betting you know exactly
who is out there with Brett, and what exactly they’re doing here.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Dawson.”

“That’s too bad, son,” Vance stepped closer to JD, “because I’d really hate to have my cousins
finish your friend off.”

The teen followed the outlaws line of sight to where Seth had just hauled Tanner over the edge.
The ex-bounty hunter was roughly dragged from the tomb and shoved to the ground. “Now, are
we going to have a little chat, or do you want to test my resolve.”
 
 

Chris looked around the courtyard of the small mission they had just arrived at , quickly noticing
the other  horses tied next to Vin and JD's. " The Dawsons?” he queried, glancing at the rest of
the men.

Buck paled instantly. “They must have beaten us here."

"Damn, they're early," Brett mumbled under his breath.

Buck quickly turned his head to look at his brother. "Whaddya mean, 'they're early'?"

"Sounds like Brett knows even more than what we figured he did," Nathan offered.

Buck's face twisted with anger. "Son of a bitch! You mean you left them out here knowing those
bastards were on their way?!"

“They weren’t suppose to be here until tomorrow,” Brett defended. “I figured you’d be smart
enough to find them by then.”

Chris maneuvered his horse between his old friend and the conman, when he recognized the
murderous glint in his oldest friend’s eyes.  "Not now, Buck. There are more important things to
take care of at the moment.  You and Nathan - come with me." Larabee turned towards Standish,
who had been unusually quiet since coming across the fleeing Wilmington. " Ezra, take Brett,
circle around to the side. Make sure no one spots you."
 
 

Ezra and Brett had just ridden away, and Chris and the others had dismounted their horses, when
Larabee was informed that they had not arrived unnoticed.

“Larabee! Chris Larabee?” Vance Dawson appeared in the stone archway of the mission
entrance.

“Who wants to know?” Chris called back, peering around the tree he was positioned behind.

“There’s two on top of the mission,” Nathan told his partners.

“Got’em,” Chris replied, waiting on the answer from across the way.

“Mr. Larabee? I don't believe we've ever met. I’m Vance Dawson, although I have a feeling you
know that already, and I think your men have told me all I need to know about you.”
The muscle-bound man laughed. “Isn’t that right, boy?”

“JD,” Buck stepped forward as the youngest of the Seven was now pulled into the doorway with
Vance. Nate caught his arm to keep him from going any further into the open, but he also
couldn’t keep his eyes from the teen or the gun pointed at his head.

“ What do want, Dawson?” Chris called.

“I want what's coming to me!”

“Oh, I'll give 'em what's coming to him,” Buck growled, and Jackson tightened his hold on the
fuming gunslinger.

Chris pinned his oldest friend with a look that told him to keep his cool before replying to Vance.
“What exactly might that be?”

“What Wilmington owes me, of course.” The three of the Seven shared a glance.

“You send out my men and I'll see what I can do.”

Again, Dawson laughed. “I’ve heard of you, Larabee,  I know what you can do.”
Vance jerked JD closer to him, jostling the boy’s wounded shoulder, and eliciting a sharp yelp of
pain from the teen. “I ain’t no fool.”

“ This ain't getting us no where,” Buck hissed, pulling away from Nate. “What exactly does
Wilmington owe you?” the mustached man yelled. “I'll take it out of his hide myself,” he added, under his breath.

“Why don’t you ask him. I know he’s out there. My man saw his horse,” Vance shouted back.
“ I know he has the necklace, too. Brett! You turn it over, and we'll forget about you're little
double cross and I'll call it even.”

Before Chris or Buck could reply, a shot rang out from a stand of trees adjacent to Santa Bel. It
was from the position that Ezra and Brett now held.

The bullet struck the stone just above Dawson’s head, showering him and JD with debris from
the crumbling structure. Vance jerked the boy inside and his men returned fire in Chris and Buck
and Nathan’s direction.

“What the hell?” Buck swore, falling back behind one of the trees,  aiming his gun above the
mission and firing several shots of his own.

“Damn him,” Chris muttered, repeating the same action as the ladies’ man. They couldn’t chance
firing directly at the structure, in fear of hitting Vin or JD.

In moments the bullets stopped, and Vance called out to them again. “That was really stupid,
Larabee! I'll be more than happy to bury your men in the hole I found them in.”

Chris lowered his gun and looked around his cover once more. “If that happens we won't have a
reason to let you live, Dawson.”

“Get me my necklace and we'll all keep breathing.”

Chris remained silent long enough to look at Buck. “I need a little more time. Let me see what I
can do.”

“Make it quick, Larabee. The next gunshot you hear is going into the kid.”

"Damn him," Buck snarled, starting in the direction Ezra and Wilmington had gone. "He was
never coming to get us. He was getting away with the treasure. I'll strangle him with that
necklace then give it to Dawson myself."

Chris moved in front of his friend. "No, Buck, you two stay here, Brett and I are going to have a
little talk."

Buck opened his mouth to protest but Nathan's voice cut him off. "Losing you temper ain't gonna
help Vin and JD, Buck. Let Chris handle this."

The ladies’ man looked torn, but reluctantly he turned without a word and went back to the small
clearing from which he could see the mission. The last place he'd seen JD.

"Keep an eye on him," Larabee told the healer before going. He knew his old friend was on the
verge of losing it, what was worse, he could feel himself reaching that point also.

For Brett's sake, he had better hope that Vin and JD made it out of the situation unscathed. If they
didn't, Buck's brother or not, Brett was a dead man.
 
 

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Ezra Standish could not remember ever being more angry as
he stood staring at the smug-faced man in front of him. The gunfire started by Wilmington had
finally died down, but the southerner was still amazed that the man standing beside him had
actually taken a shot at Dawson, while he was holding JD in front of him.

"I was thinking that the strategies of a saloon chessboard are looking much better than the
strategies of a gunfight right about now,” Brett replied coolly.

The gambler glared at Wilmington. "Unfortunately, one must abide by the rules of the game that
one has chosen to play. You started this game, sir, now you have no choice but  to
finish it."

Brett laughed. "For a man of means there is always a way around the rules, and there are always
choices. As a smart business man, Mr. Standish, you should know that."

"Exactly what are you saying, Mr. Wilmington?"

"I'm saying that you, like myself, are a man of vision, sir." Brett opened the small sack he had
hanging from his shoulder and pulled out El Colores de las Ondas, holding it up for Ezra to see.
"Envision you and I and this beauty in San Francisco where I have a deal lined up that could
provide you more money than even a man as talented as yourself could attain at a thousand
well played card games."

“You had the treasure all along,” Standish replied.

Brett nodded. “Beautiful isn’t it?”

In that split second life presented Ezra with a rare opportunity. He looked into the eyes of a
stranger but saw a shadow of himself. The man he use to be.

He couldn't stop the involuntary shudder that ran through him as he caught the gleam in
Wilmington’s dark eyes, and he dropped his gaze back to the breathtaking jewels. He slowly
reached out to touch the sparkling masterpiece.

It was magnificent.

But to a weathered conscience, and an educated heart of someone who had chased ill gotten
treasure before, it was easy to see that this beauty would hold no more
value than fool's gold.

"Take it, Standish. You know you want to," Brett encouraged. “Your associates can do fine for
themselves. I’m sure they’ve had to do it before.”

Ezra's hand closed around the pendant and for a moment, and just a moment, he wondered at
what paths it could open for him. But as soon as the thought came, it fled, right along with any
patience he had left for the gloating conman in front of him, who had blatantly endangered the
lives of two men he considered family. .

For a moment he wondered if Maude would be disappointed in him and then with lightning fast
reflexes,  Ezra yanked the necklace away from Brett with one hand, while laying a beauty of a
left hook across Wilmington's jaw.

“Ezra?” Chris ‘s voice registered with Standish and he slowly turned from the stunned conman
now pushing himself off the ground near the southerner’s feet. “Problem?”

“None at all.” Ezra let a satisfied grin settle on his features as he tossed the jeweled necklace to
Larabee.  “Look what our dear friend, Brett, so graciously donated to the John
Dunne, Vincent Tanner fund.”

Chris caught the treasure and let his eyes roam over it before glancing to where the oldest
Wilmington was slowly making it to his feet, rubbing at his jaw. “Worthy cause.” Larabee waited until the thief met his gaze. “I’ll
be sure to show him my gratitude when we get back to town.”

The man in black turned and walked away without another word as Brett finally regained his
footing.

Ezra gave the thief a gold-toothed smile. “I’d say that was Check Mate, my friend.”

“You're a damn fool, Standish,” Brett spat. “Do you realize what you've just given up?”

“No, but I know what you gave up. I've been where you are, my friend.” Standish bent down and
picked up Brett’s hat and thrust it in his direction. “ I may have just done you the favor of your
life.” The gambler gave the speechless man a shove to get him moving. “Now let’s go before my
rare bout of benevolence fades and I put you out of your misery.”

“I got it,” Chris announced as he made his way back to the spot where he had left Buck and
Nathan.

“Where’s, Brett?” Buck demanded, a look of anger and betrayal flashing behind his dark eyes.

“Ezra can handle Brett, Buck,” Larabee told his friend. “You need to concentrate on helping us
get JD and Vin out of this alive.”

“Since it is my fault, right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Buck shook his head. “You didn’t have to , pard.”

“Come on, Buck,” Nathan tried, “how could you think any of this is your fault?  A man may be
his brother’s keeper, but he sure ain’t the barer of his sins.”

“I thought Josiah had gone back to town,” Buck said sarcastically, looking at the healer.

Jackson laid a hand on the mustached man’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t hard to
preach the truth.”

Ezra and Brett chose that moment to make their entrance into the small grove of trees and what
little Nathan had done to calm Buck was destroyed by one look at the oldest Wilmington’s calm,
cool demeanor.

Buck rushed the conman before the healer or Chris could stop him.  Ezra stepped in between
them but the lady’s man still managed to wrap his hands in his brother’s lapels.
“Buck, he isn’t worth it,” Standish tried as Nathan now grabbed his friend from behind and
attempted to pull him away from his brother.

“Listen to him, Thomas,” Brett spoke matter of factly, “I ain’t worth the effort.”

“Arrrrrgh,” Buck roared, pulled away from Jackson , and in one fluid motion drew his gun which
he leveled on  his brother. “ I wish to God that  I could find one good reason not to kill you right
here and now.”

From out of the stillness Vance Dawson’s deep voice broke the tension. “Larabee! The kid here
wants to know if his time is up or not.”.

Ezra stepped forward and pushed Buck’s gun down. “ There's your reason, Buck.”

Chris kept his eyes on his friends but called back to the outlaw, “ I have the necklace, let's do
this.”

“Whooo-eeh!” Vance yelled. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

“Send my men out.”

“Send my treasure over.”

Nathan stepped around a still dazed Buck to stand alongside Larabee. “Chris, I don't know if
that's such a good idea or not.”

“Mr. Jackson’s worries are well founded,” Ezra added. “The necklace is the only insurance we
have. Our ace up the sleeve, you might say.”

“He’ll kill them if you don’t do as he says,” Brett spoke up. “He won’t hesitate,” the conman
held Buck’s gaze. “he’ll pull the trigger without a second’s thought.”

“Larabee, your half-pint is getting a little nervous over here. Seems he wants to live to see his
next birthday.”

“How do you want to do this?” Chris called, making the only decision he could.

“Have Brett bring the necklace over to me. I’ll meet him halfway with my side of the
bargain.”

Brett stepped forward and held his hand out to Chris. The gunslinger hesitated. “I can do this,
Larabee. Your men won’t be hurt.”

“They better not be, Wilmington,” The leader of the Seven dropped the necklace into the
historian’s outstretched palm, “or you’ll be giving your excuses to St. Peter himself.”

Brett nodded and stepped into the clearing, a large smile on his face. “Here I am, Vance.
Although , I must admit I’m a mite surprised to see that you’re the type to arrive to a meeting
early.”

“Shut-up, Wilmington. I always did think you talked way too much,” Vance called back, shoving
JD out in front of him and practically dragging Vin from the mission doorway.

It was the first time the others had gotten a look at the tracker, and Chris had to clench his fists to
keep from pulling his gun and shooting somebody.  The only problem was he didn’t know who
he wanted to kill more-Dawson or Brett.

One whole side of Vin’s face was covered with dried blood and he looked as he was favoring his
left leg so much that it was nearly impossible for him to keep up the pace Dawson was insisting
upon.

The outlaw and the two youngest of the Seven made it to the halfway point before Brett, who was
casually sauntering towards them, swinging the necklace round and round on one finger.

“I told you I’d find it, Dawson.”

Vance laughed bitterly. “You also told me that you’d wait for me in Four Corners. It ain’t nice to
double-cross me, Wilmington.”

“It ain’t nice to double-cross anyone,” Brett pointed out, as he finally reached the others. He
avoided JD’s gaze and instead focused on Vin. “But I never was the very nice or trustworthy
type, isn’t that right, Mr. Tanner?”

Vin caught the glint in Brett’s eyes and instantly recognized it as the same sort of look Buck got
right before he did something either really brilliant, or really stupid. “Shit,” Vin muttered under
his breath,  glancing around for any place he could quickly get him and JD out of the line of fire.

That’s when it happened.

In the blink of an eye. Brett tossed the treasure high in the air to Vance. “Here ya go, Dawson.
Hope it brings you the same kind of luck of it’s previous owners.”

The outlaw released his hold on Tanner to grab for the necklace, and when he lifted his eyes from
Brett, the eldest Wilmington struck.

He executed a perfect imitation of Ezra’s left cross from before, sending Dawson skidding to his
backside in the dirt.  Then, all hell broke lose.

“Fuck!” Chris shouted, as he instantly pulled his pistol and started to return fire on the mission.
Dawson’s men had begun shooting as soon as they saw their leader go down. “Vin! JD! Get outta
there!"

Vin felt a bullet whiz past his head and instinctively hit the ground rolling.  When he came to a
stop he was luckily lying near the remains of a large statue which he immediately used for cover.
His next thoughts were for JD’s safety, and he was more than relieved to see that Brett had
managed to drag himself and the boy to an outcropping of rocks.

Gunfire volleyed around them, and Tanner watched as one by one Dawson’s men were taken out
by his partners.  The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he dreadfully turned his head
to come face to face with the business end of Vance’s pistol.

The outlaw had crawled to where he was, and planned on taking what little cover Vin had found.
“One of us has got to go, boy,” Dawson breathed, a feral gleam in his menacing dark eyes.

The tracker knew if he made a run for it, he’d be cut down in the barrage of shrapnel, but if he
didn’t, he’d be dead where he lay. He was definitely caught between a rock and a hard place.
Fortunately, the matter was taken out of his hands.  Vance Dawson had no more raised his
weapon to fire at Tanner, when a bullet found it’s mark, right between his eyes.

Vin turned to look behind him, and nearly grinned in relief when he was greeted with the grim
face of Chris Larabee not more than twenty feet away.

The gunfight was over as quickly as it had started.

"JD!" Buck called, breaking his cover as soon as the shooting stopped.

Ezra and Nathan went to secure the wounded outlaws, while Chris ran towards Vin.

"JD!" The gunslinger yelled again, sliding to a stop behind the semi-shelter that Brett had
managed to push him and the kid behind.

The object of his worry was leaned over the prone form of Brett using his bandanna to staunch
the flow of blood from a wound in the conman's right arm.

"Buck, get Nate," JD said, chancing a look over his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Wilmington asked, his eyes never leaving the teen.

"I'm fine," JD replied, short of breath. "Brett's hurt."

Wilmington stayed frozen in his spot until his eyes fell on Vin, a few feet away behind a small
delapidated statue of the Mother Mary. He seemed dazed but not seriously injured. Chris was
already at his side.

"Buck, what are you waiting for?" JD said, exasperated. "Go get Nate."

"I'm fine, flash," the oldest Wilmington interjected, truthfully. "I've been hurt worse falling off
my horse."

The boy didn't look convinced. In fact he didn't look good at all. Brett flinched as he realized the
damn fool kid actually looked worried about him.

"You were shot," JD replied calmly, glancing over his shoulder again  to see that his best friend
had finally went to find the healer.  "Buck will be right back," the teen assured.

"He's worried about you." Brett struggled to sit up, uncomfortable in the position of a patient.

"Stay still," JD said, but finally relented and let the man recline against one of the rocks they had
hid behind. "Buck always worries."

Brett started to reply but the sudden sway of his caretaker caught him off guard and he had to use
his good arm to steady the boy. "You sure 'you're' alright, flash?"

"I'm fine," JD stated again. "I wish people would start listening..to...me...for...,"

The words trailed off as JD found himself faced with an unexpected wave of pain from
 his shoulder region. The same shoulder he had hurt when the rocks had fallen. He groaned and
raised his other hand to his clavicle.

That's when Brett noticed it.

A large stain of crimson was slowly spreading across  the boy's shirt. *Shit!*

Buck hadn't seen it because the boy had his back to him, and Brett had only been consumed with
his own discomfort.

Wilmington caught JD's hand and kept him from touching the wound. "Maybe you should be the
one lying down, JD." Brett kept his voice light, but concern tugged at the corner of his mind.

He'd seen men injured , critically injured, and not even realize it until moments later. The term 'walking wounded' flooded
through his mind but the teen's harsh reply brought him back to reality.

"Look here, Brett," JD said, trying vainly to pull his hand from the treasure hunter's grip, "I'm
trying to forget that you left me and Vin in that hole..but..," JD's word's faltered once more, and
he gasped as another wave of agony crashed over him.

"Larabee!" As soon as Wilmington saw the color drain from the teen's face, he shouted to the
leader of the Seven, who was still positioned by the tracker about fifteen feet away.

Chris looked up in time to see the youngest of his men pitch forward into Wilmington's grasp.
"Damn!" He growled, glancing back at Vin, who he was trying to help to his feet.

"Go!" the ex-bounty hunter waved his best friend on trying to steady himself. "I'm right behind
you."

JD couldn't be sure over the roaring in his ears, but he thought Brett was yelling about
something. Maybe the treasure hunter was hurt worse than he thought. He was about to attempt
to ask if the older man was okay, when a black blur entered the kid's field of vision to join the
other collage of blurs affronting him.

JD flinched at first when he felt the rough grip encircle him, but then he heard
Chris's voice. "What happened?" Larabee asked, glaring at Brett.

"He's been shot. It must have happened before I got us to cover."

"Damn it," Chris swore, cursing the targets that the two youngest of the Seven seemed to have emblazoned on
them. "JD? Can you hear me?"

The teen's eyes blinked several times. "Chris?"

"Is he okay?" Vin asked, leaning over and bracing his hands on his knees.  The sharpshooter's
legs still felt weak, and his knee throbbed,  but at least his head no longer felt as if it were caught
in some slow moving twister. Right now, JD's condition, not his own, was foremost in his mind.

"What happened?" JD asked sluggishly, wondering why there were now two Chris Larabees.

"It looks like you got shot, kid," Vin replied.

"That explains a lot," the teen moaned, as Larabee eased him to the ground. The gunslinger
attempted to check the wound, but JD was fighting the attention.

"I'm fine, Chris," the kid protested, even though each move now sent a hot wave of agony across
his shoulder and down his arm to where even his fingers felt like they were on fire.

Buck chose that moment to make his return with Nathan in tow. "Kid!"  Needless to say, he was
not happy to see the turn of events.

"What the hell happened?!" Wilmington kneeled on the other side of Dunne, laying a restraining
hand on the boy, and at the same time giving Brett a deadly stare.

"I shot him," the oldest Wilmington confessed, annoyed at yet the second implication of his guilt.
"I did it just to piss you and Larabee off."

"He's lying, Buck," JD spoke up, latching onto the gunslinger’s sleeve. Even with all the practice
the kid had received from listening to Ezra, he still somehow missed the obvious sarcasm in the
conman's statement.

"I know, kid." Buck sighed, looking down at the boy. He shook his head and forced a grin.
"Is this your idea of fine?"

JD tried to offer a weak smile in return. "Pretty much."

Nathan had taken Chris's place now, and started his inspection of his newest patient. "I swear,
boy. Do you have to do everything Buck does?" the healer teased as he went about the painful
procedure.

JD winced and tightened the death grip he now had on Buck's arm. " 'Least I didn't get shot
because of an invisible dog."

"No," Buck looked at his older brother, “you got hurt because of a spineless thief. In fact, we
both did."

"Buck." Chris's tone said it all. This wasn't the time or the place.

" Dang, Nate!" JD yelped, bringing all attention back to him. He attempted to roll closer to Buck
and pull away from the doctor's ministrations but Wilmington held him in place.

"Easy, kid," Buck's voice was completely soothing now.
"Just let Nate get an idea of what trouble you managed to step in, and we'll get you home."

"I'm sorry, Buck," the teen said softly.

"It's okay, son. I know it hurts. Remember how I cussed and went on last week."

"No," JD interrupted, starting to lose his battle with the darkness swirling around him now, "'bout
before...at...the...clinic. When we ..were talkin' 'bout..Brett."

"Don't worry about that, kid." Buck rested a hand on the boy's forehead, and chanced a glance in
the other Wilmington's direction. "None of that's important to me now. Just you.  You got it?"

JD nodded, his dark eyelashes fluttering close. "Got it."

"Is he going to be alright, Nate?" Vin asked.

Nathan nodded. "It don’t look too bad, but the bullet's still in there. We need to get him back to
the clinic, now. "

As if on cue, Josiah chose that moment to arrive with the buckboard. He pulled the team to a
screeching halt not too far from his friends and jumped down.

“I heard gunfire. Thought I had missed the party. Damn, is JD alright?” the preacher asked, worry
feeling his features as he caught sight of the young man now cradled in Buck’s arms.

“We need to get him home,” Nate replied.

“You and Buck take the kid and Vin back to town,” Chris told the healer. “The rest of us will
collect the trash and meet you back there.”

Josiah reached out to help Vin as Brett started to bend down to retrieve something from the fallen
form of Vance Dawson.  The big preacher caught the smaller man’s hand and squeezed hard.
“It’s best you find more productive work , brother.” Sanchez tightened his grip, until
Wilmington’s face visibly paled. “Like helping Buck with JD.”

“But I’m wounded,” Brett countered, rubbing his arm when Josiah finally released him.

“Just be glad your not dead,” Vin replied, before climbing onto the wagon.

“’Least not yet,” Chris spoke up, glaring at the thief. “ I should kill you for what you pulled out
there.”

“Vance would have killed us before he let us walk a way,” Wilmington defended. “ I did what I
did to survive. You should be thanking me, Larabee.”

Chris continued to glare at the other man. “We’ll talk about how I’ll do that when I get back to
town.”

With one last longing look at the jewel glinting in the late day sun, Brett finally turned and went
to offer his services to Nathan and Buck.

Sanchez bent down and plucked the treasure from the dead man’s hand. “Looks like the curse of
El Colores de las Ondas has struck once again.”

“The only thing that struck here is greed.” Ezra drawled as he took in the destruction around him.
“Unfortunately, it can be quite a curse of its own.”
 
 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Thom....Buck.”  Brett spoke up cautiously.

“You become a doctor since the last time I saw you?” Buck growled, not lifting his head from his
hands.

He and Brett were sitting outside of Nathan’s clinic door, while the healer worked on JD. Buck
had been tossed out of the room as soon as Jackson had started removing the bullet. Between the
ladies’ man’s pacing and his agitation over his protege’s state of pain , the doctor had insisted he
wait  outside or go to bed, which he had suggested to no avail when they first arrived back to
town.

“He’s a good kid,” Brett tried again, fidgeting with the cufflink on his shirt sleeve.

The younger Wilmington didn’t reply he merely lifted his head to stare at the door separating him
from his little brother.

“He reminds me a lot of how you were when you were that age.”

“And how would you know?” The gunslinger turned an angry gaze on his older brother. “You
were no where around when I was his age. You have no idea what I was like.”

Brett raked a hand through his dark hair  “I just meant that I can see a lot of you in him.”

Buck shook his head in disbelief. “I was nothing like JD when I was his age.”

“I just...”

“You just what, Brett?” The gunslinger stood abruptly, wrapping one arm around his side. “You
just wanted to believe that I did alright like JD? That I had someone to watch out for me, like he
does?  Well I didn’t!”

“When I wasn’t much younger than him, when ma died, I started riding with some really bad
people.  Murderers, bank robbers.  They made Dawson look like a Saint.”

Brett kept his head lowered as Buck continued.

“Luckily, I had enough sense to get the hell away from them,. Of course that was only after they
nearly beat me to death.  If I hadn’t met up with Chris, I’d probably been dead a long time ago.”

Brett finally raised his gaze to meet his younger brother’s . “What do you want me to say, Buck?”

The gunslinger took a shuddering breath and nearly choked on a bitter laugh. “The fact that you
have to ask just about says it all, doesn’t it , brother.”

The conman stood and walked to the other man’s side. “I’m sorry. I don’t have all the magic
words that you seem to with JD.” Brett sighed, trying to get control of his unusual flow of
emotion. “I didn’t know any of that happened to you.”

“You didn’t want to know.”

Brett sighed. “No, no I didn’t.” He looked at the younger man. “But I’d like to know now. If
you’d give me a chance.”

Buck looked at the other man.  As much as he wanted to take the words he was saying to heart,
something kept him from it.

“I’m sorry. It’s too late.” The ladies’ man reached in his coat pocket and pulled out the watch
he’d waited for so long to get. “Here. This is yours.” He held out the timepiece for Brett to take.

The eldest Wilmington shook his head. “You keep it. It was yours to begin with.”

Buck put the watch in his brother’s hand and closed his fingers around it. “ I have all I need.”
Buck wasn’t saying it to be mean or to hurt the man who had inflicted so much pain on him, it
was merely the truth.

 Some where along the way , he didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but he’d went from
feeling like a part of him was missing, to feeling like a part of a family.

The Seven had become his family.

JD was his family.

Brett accepted the watch, along with the other man’s words,  and slipped it back in his coat
pocket. His dark eyes held Buck’s gaze for a moment and he swallowed hard. “Just so you know,
Buck. You’re the kind of older brother I wish I could have been.”

Silence hung between the two men and before Buck could reply, Nathan came out of the clinic,
looking both tired and relieved.  Chris soon followed and without speaking a word to Buck
walked to where Brett was standing.. “It’s time for you to go. I’ll give you an hour to get your
stuff and head out. After that, I’ll tell the Carson City sheriff exactly what your involvement with
Dawson was.”

“I appreciate that...” Brett started, but Chris cut him off.

“Don’t. I’m doing this for JD...and for Buck. I  could care less about what happens to you.”
Larabee started to leave but stopped at the top of the stairs that led down to the street below.
“And Brett, don’t come back to my town.”

Brett cast one last glance at his brother and then to Chris. “I won’t. I don’t have a reason to.”

Buck cleared his throat , pulled his eyes from the scene with Larabee and the other man, and
practically pounced on Nathan. “How’s, JD? Did you get the bullet out?”

“He’s doing good, Buck.” Jackson smiled. “He just needs some rest, same as you.”

“I can rest watching the kid, doc,” Buck favored the man with his best charm-filled grin, “right?”
 
 

The next morning.....

JD Dunne could feel a warmth gently calling him from the confines of sleep. He knew it must be
daylight because the heat of the sun on his face became stronger as he slowly fought his way
back to consciousness.  He vaguely remembered events from the past twenty-four hours, but he
did recall a gunfight and something happening to him. That’s why he was still asleep in the
middle of the day. He was shot!

That realization and a sudden awareness of the throbbing pain in his shoulder caused him to
come fully awake with a start, and one name filled his mind. “Buck!”

“Easy,” Wilmington’s voice came from right beside him. “You’re alright.”

The teen relaxed back onto the bed, his eyes searching out his best friend. Buck was sitting in the
chair next to him, his feet propped up on the corner of the bed. When JD turned his head and
finally rested his hazel gaze on the man, the gunslinger smiled and tightened his fingers around
JD’s wrist.

"Hey," the kid said weakly.

"Hey yourself."

"You look like shit,” JD stated, taking in the haggard features of the older man.

"Thanks to you. It's not easy on a man sleeping in this yellow contraption Nate calls a chair."

Dunne smiled. “Tell me about it.” He shifted in the bed so he could look around the small quiet
room. "Where is everybody? Is Vin alright?"

" Vin's fine. He’s in your room taking it easy, Chris is with him, Ez is over at the jail and Nate's
with Mrs. Farley, who decided that today was a good day to deliver."

"On All Hallows Eve?" JD asked, and Buck had to laugh that the kid, with all that he’d been
through, still remembered what day it was.

"Yep, as good as day as any, I’d reckon."

The teen looked down at his hands for a moment and then back up at the gunslinger. "Where's
Brett?"

"He left,” Buck replied.

"I'm sorry,” JD said, not really sure if he was or not.

Wilmington put his feet on the floor and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Don't
be, kid; it was for the best.  By the way, he told me to tell you goodbye and thanks."

"For what?"

"For helping him find what he was looking for, I guess." Buck shrugged. “Brett never was one to explain himself.”

"Did he get to keep the necklace?” Dunne asked, a hint of his usual enthusiasm returning.

"Nope, I took that little trinket into custody,” Josiah Sanchez was the one to answer the boy, as
he entered the room. “How ya’ feeling, son?”

“I’m fine,” JD answered quickly, ignoring the contradictory grunt Buck voiced from beside him.
"What are you going to do with the treasure, Josiah?"

"Send it back to the church in San Francisco,” he replied.  The big man leaned on the back of
Wilmington’s chair, giving the teen a huge smile. “That is, if Ezra doesn’t find a way to relieve
me of its possession."

"What about the other jewelry?” JD asked around a yawn.

"What other jewelry?” Buck and Josiah both asked.

“You know, the earrings and the bracelet?"

Wilmington shook his head.  "Well, I always did say old Brett was like a cat, he lands on his
feet everytime."

"Speaking of cats,” Josiah cleared his throat. “I have those packages you were wanting out in the
hall, Brother Buck."

JD watched curiously as Buck grinned and took off after Sanchez, who winked at the teen before
leaving the room.

The teen carefully pushed himself up in bed as Buck came back in carrying two bundles of black
and white fur. "Hey, I didn't think he'd be ready for a few more days," JD said taking the
wriggling pup the gunslinger offered him.

"Well, Casseopaya thought that he might cheer you up,” Buck said, as he reclaimed his seat and
placed the other puppy on his lap. “Actually she told me she was tired of hearing him
yelping all the time, but I knew what she really meant."

"Why'd you get the girl pup too?” the kid asked, trying to one-handedly contain the ball of energy
that was insistent on licking every inch of his face. “ I thought you had a hard enough time
convincing Old Lady Clemens to let us keep one dog at the boarding house?"

"This ones not for us,” Buck informed him.  “I told Casseopaya that I knew
someone who would be glad to give this little girl a good home.” Wilmington patted the puppy’s
head. “Ain't that right , Sadie darlin’?"

"Sadie?” JD grinned, realizing exactly who his best friend was planning on giving the dog to.

"Yes,” Buck glared at the boy, daring him to say anything about it. “ Now what are you going to
name that little beast of yours?"

JD thought for a moment, looking to the pup who stared back at him from underneath one flop
ear, and then shot Wilmington a mischievous glance. “How 'bout, Thomas. That kind of sounds
like a dog's name?”

“Thomas?” Buck laughed. “I guess it’s as good as any, kid.”

“Thomas it is then,” JD replied, sharing a knowing look with his friend.

“Now that that’s settled,” Wilmington finally said, sitting Sadie down on the bed beside of
Thomas and picking up a familiar, tattered dime store novel from the night stand, “how ‘bout I
finish the ‘Haunted Gallows of Laredo?” The gunslinger leaned back in his chair and propped his
feet up once more. “We never did get to the part with that fancy lady ghost, you know.”
 
 

The End