“Are they still out there?” Buck asked the tracker. All six peacekeepers were dismounted, standing out of view under the trees, east of the gunslinger’s shack. Buck pointed to Nathan and Josiah to make their way around to the backside of Chris’ shack. Then Buck whispered to Ezra to scout the front side around the corral. He kept JD with the horses; Buck wanted the kid where he could keep an eye on him.

“Yup, troopers are still there, about a mile behind us. Been following us since we left town.” Vin raised his spyglass again, waiting for Buck’s next question. The tracker didn’t have to wait long.

“What did you think they’re up too?” Buck asked, moving to stand by the tracker.

“Looks like they are looking for something. Several of the troopers are off their horses.” Vin paused when he saw one of the troopers point and half the column rode over to a tall grassy area. “Yup, they’re tracking, they just found…” He stopped talking as he watched the three soldiers dismount, bend over and lift a body out of the yellow grass. He leaned forward to get a better look and released a sigh when he saw the stiff body had dark hair and was wearing a blue uniform.

“What did they find?” JD whispered.

Vin turned to face Buck and said, “What’s going on Buck? And don’t tell me you don’t know. First Orrin Travis sends for Chris to ride up to Fort Laramie. Then he disappears for a couple of weeks, and when he finally shows his face back in town… what happens the next day? We have the cavalry riding all over the territory. And one more thing, I could of sworn that Chris knew this Colonel Thomason. I can’t put my finger on it, but there was a look in Chris’ eyes.”

“What kind of look?” JD thought to himself. JD almost kicked himself as he received a stern look from the two older men; he had asked the question out loud. Vin turned, letting Buck deal with the kid and he once again raised his spyglass to his eye. JD had learned long time ago not to question Buck about Chris or the two friends past friendship, once again in his excitement the youngest peacekeeper almost stepped over the line. “Sorry, Buck.”

Vin stood back, lowering the spyglass, his voice heavy with worry as he said, “We need to get to the shack. They just found four bodies.” Vin made a straight line for Chris’ shack, forcing Buck and JD to run to keep up.


All three men were breathing heavy when they stopped a few yards from the shack. Vin saw Ezra out of the corner of his eye near the corral; the gambler shook his head, all clear. Vin and Buck inched forward, silently telling JD to watch their backs. JD pulled his colts out of his hostlers. Buck laid his hand on Vin’s shoulder, pointing to the movement around the left side of the shack. Josiah waved all clear and made his way to the door. He slowly peeked inside, and then went in, gun drawn ready for anything, with Nathan right behind him. The four men outside waited for the sign of all clear. It didn’t take long…Nathan waved them to come in as Josiah walked out the door beside him, a disturbed look on his face.

The four peacekeepers hurried to join the other two men. As they reached the door, Buck was the first to ask, “Well…?”

“He’s not inside…,” Josiah said. Buck could tell that he was clearly holding something back and pushed his way past the door not waiting to hear what else the big man had to say. Josiah didn’t try to stop him. “Ezra, take JD and get the horses and bring them back to the corral.” Josiah grabbed Vin’s arm before he could enter the door. “There was a struggle.” Vin nodded, before he crouched down to the ground, studying the footprints. Two sets were deep, one was light, as if someone had run out of the shack bare footed. After a while Vin stood and followed the lighter tracks around the corral.

Diablo snorted noisily as he got a whiff of the tracker walking beside the corral gate. The horse pawed at the ground angrily, demanding to be let out. “Easy boy…,” Vin whispered. Diablo looked the tracker in the eye and reared up on his hind legs, his front hoofs kicking in the air. His front hoofs hit the ground hard and Diablo ran round the pen kicking at the post on the western end. As Vin watched the horse repeatedly run around the pen, each time he came to the western end, Diablo kicked as if he was pointing, sending the tracker a message. Vin took off running for the trees with Nathan and Josiah not far behind, their guns out, covering the tracker’s back. As Vin reached the trees he heard the sound of running water and made his way towards the creek. “Nathan, you and Josiah go up stream, yell if you find him,” Vin shouted over his shoulder. He came to a halt at the side of the creek embankment and studied the three sets of tracks. He drew in his breath as he saw the signs where someone had slid down the slope; little spatters of blood laced the rocky trail.

Vin jumped the embankment and slid down the edge till his feet hit the water edge. Again he studied the muddy bank and saw two sets of tracks, deep in the mud. Vin looked up and down the creek trying to decide which way to go, he turned at the sound of Josiah’s voice calling out to Nathan, a little ways up stream. He waited, nothing, no shouts that they had found him. Vin glanced back down stream. Where is he?

As he walked along side the water, the tracker came across a dead tree that had fallen across the creek. He jumped up on the log and walked to the other side, again looking for any signs where Chris might have left the water. Water lapped at the edge of the log as Vin studied the terrain, his eyes narrowing. Something seemed out of place. He stared down at the wet underbrush piled against the log opening, brown, orange leaves floated down stream on the surface of the water, as the water ate away at the pile. Vin bent down to get a drink of water and brush away some of the rust color leaves from the log. Dipping his hand in the cool water, he cried out as his fingers brushed against a cold hand. “Oh God…Chris!” Vin jumped into the water, shoving the pile of leaves out of his way. “Nathan! I found him! Nathan!” The tracker pushed his way into the hollow log til he saw Chris’ mud caked hair. Grabbing the unconscious man by the shoulders, Vin pulled with all he had. It wasn’t long before Josiah’s strong hands were helping Vin pull Chris out of the log.

“Keep his head out of the water,” Nathan told them. “Easy…easy…get him over to the side of the bank.” Josiah instantly put his arm under Chris’s legs as the other one wrapped around his upper body and he lifted the gunslinger up with ease. The three men got their first good look at the unconscious gunslinger. Nathan kneeled beside Chris’s side, running his hands down the gunslinger’s arms, then legs, finally Nathan pulled the wet, soaking shirt away from Chris’ chest. The healer looked up and said, “No bullet wounds or broken bones.” The healer placed his hand on Chris’ head and wrapped his brown colored bandana around the deep slash running along his temple. “We need to get Chris out of this wet cloths and warmed up before he catches pneumonia.” Not waiting to be asked, the gentle giant lifted the unconscious gunslinger in his arms. With Nathan’s and Vin’s help the giant man made his way back up the embankment. Half way to the gunslinger’s shack they ran into Colonel Thomason and his dismounted troopers.

== = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


Buck lost track of time as he waited. The shack was in shambles, cupboards overturn. Buck slowly walked over in a daze and turned the bed right side up. Sitting down, he placed his hands over his face, his whole body shaking. He looked up as JD and Ezra walked through the door. “Heard anything yet?” Both men shook their heads, no.

JD walked over to the overturned chest with its contents spilled out all over the floor. Wanting to stay busy he bent and kneeled on the floor gathering the gunslinger’s belongings to place them back inside the chest. JD ran his hand down the cavalry sword, in awe before he placed it back inside the chest. Then he gently started to fold the blue uniform when a velvet blue box dropped from its pocket onto the floor. Without thinking JD reached over and picked the box up and opened it. He stared down at the shinning medal, “Ahhh….Buck.” JD held the box, “This is…is…”

Ezra interrupted, “That gentlemen is the Congressional Medal of Honor, the highest honor the nation can bestow on one of its gallant heroes.” The gambler studied Buck’s face before asking, “The medal, I assume, is Mr. Larabee’s.”

Before Buck could answer, Vin called out that they had found Chris. Buck and Ezra stood facing the door and JD honorably placed the box with the medal on Chris’ uniform as Josiah walked through the door with his burden. Nathan was right behind shouting for the men to start a fire. Josiah slowly walked over and gently placed Chris on the bed and with Nathan’s help they peeled the wet clinging clothing off the unconscious gunslinger. Buck hovered over Nathan’s shoulder taking the wet clothing and draping the pieces over a chair as Nathan gathered blanket to cover the gunslinger, tucking the edges around his shivering body.

“Is he alive?” asked Colonel Thomason, his voice deep with worry for his old friend. Buck turned, staring past Vin at the man coming through the door.

“What the hell is going on Colonel?” Buck demanded, storming over to face the colonel.

Colonel Thomason didn’t back down from the man stalking towards him. He remembered how protective Sergeant Wilmington was of the then young Captain Christopher Larabee. The colonel snarled, “Shellburne.”

His eyes going wide, Buck froze in his tracks.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


A moan escaped the gunslinger’s lips as Nathan finished stitching his forehead. “He’s coming around,” the healer said to the men hovering over his shoulder. Nathan placed the bloody needle and thread on the nightstand.

Chris released another moan, and without opening his eyes he, whispered through trembling lips, “Cold… so cold.” Josiah instantly grabbed the blanket toasting near the black iron stove and gently added the warm blanket to the pile. Chris’ body snuggled around the added warmth, slowly drifting to sleep. Nathan frowned. He didn’t like the rattling sound in Chris’ lungs as he breathed.

“Oh…No you don’t soldier. Report!” Colonel Thomason demanded, pushing his way to Chris’ side. His stern command never reached his eyes as he laid his hand on Chris’ shoulder.

Chris’ eyes flew open at the colonel tone of voice. “Sir…” Feverish eyes looked up at the faces hovering over the bed. Through his hazy vision Chris made out a blue uniform and uttered, “Andy?” Chris started to choke as he coughed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“Turn him on his side.” Nathan ordered, as he pushed the colonel out of his way. “Vin go get the herb mixture on the stove.” The tracker went over and poured the warm mixture in a tin cup. On the other side of the bed, Buck set down on his knees and helped the healer roll Chris on his side to help his breathing. “Slow deep breaths Chris…take it easy. One breath at a time,” Nathan soothed. Vin returned with the herbs, handing the tin cup over to Nathan. “Chris drink this…easy.” Nathan tilted the cup to Chris’ lips and the gunslinger took short sips.

“I’m fine,” Chris choked out pressing his lips together to stop another cough. He pushed the tin cup away, glancing up at the colonel.

“Chris, you’re not fine. So don’t lie to me,” said Nathan, pausing before turning to the Colonel. “This man is sick Colonel. You’ll just have to wait to ask him questions til after we get him back to town.”

“Ya’ll have to wait,” Buck muttered in agreement.

“Wait for what Sergeant? I already have four dead soldiers,” the colonel bellowed, his face going red with anger. He didn’t even realize his slip, “Chris has already been attacked once. How long do you thing it will be before Shellburne makes another attempt to grab him?”


“He tried to kill him again.” Buck shouted back. Nothing made any sense to Buck anymore. The war was over, why would this mad man be after his friend? All eyes were glued on the two arguing men and no one noticed the gunslinger trying to get out of bed.

“Andy!” Chris choked out, swinging his shaky legs to the floor. Nathan caught him before he slid to the ground, pushing the gunslinger back into bed.

“Damn Chris,” Nathan scolded, turning he yelled back over to the others, “Buck, Colonel get out and let me help this man.”

“NO!” Chris’s cracked voice roar, his eyes going hard as he looked at the colonel. “Two men, heard them say they killed four soldiers.” He paused to cough again, shrugging off Nathan’s hand. “Heard them say…Shellburne.” Chris coughed again; he closed his eyes against the burning pain in his chest.

“Drink this,” Nathan said as he held the tin cup full of liquid against Chris’ lips. Slowly the gunslinger drank the water. It didn’t take long before Nathan’s sleeping potion took effect and Chris slowly closed his eyes drifting to a sleep. “Well that’s settled, Chris will be out for a couple of hours.” The healer turned angry eyes on the colonel.

“Colonel Thomason, Buck, I think it’s about time you tell us what going on?” Vin challenged, his eyes cold and hard. The tracker needed to know the truth. It was the only way he could protect his friend.

“How much do you know?” the Colonel inquired, studying the six peacekeeper’s faces. The men looked at each other before shaking or waving their hands that they knew nothing…all but Buck, his eyes were on the sleeping gunslinger.

Again the tracker challenged the colonel. “Who’s Shellburne?” He leaned back against the wall, beside Chris’ bed, standing guard.

“Major Shellburne.” Buck finally spoke, his voice sounded like it was off in a great distance. “Never had the pleasure of meeting the bastard. Can’t say the same for Chris. Meet Chris a few days before the battle of Gettysburg, we were just dumb kids. Well, I was the dumb kid. Chris…well he was smart, too smart.” Buck stopped and studied his sleeping friend. “Shouldn’t tell you this but, well, Chris went to the Point…West Point, graduated just before the battle, top of his class and a year younger them most of the other cadets. You see he had family… important family. Made him an easy target for the rebels. That’s why Buford, John Buford, kept him as one of his aides.” Buck paused, remembering his time spent during the war was painful. He almost lost his best friend, the man who walked away from his family, to follow him out west.

The five other peacekeepers settle down to listen. Too young to remember the war, JD was eager to learn more about his hero. The tracker just wanted to know who to hunt down; no one attacked his family and got away with it. Nathan’s face was drawn as he remembered the days during the war he spent helping Union doctors save the wounded or help buried the dead. Josiah listened with a heavy heart, not wanting to be reminded of his time in California. Ezra’s eyes watered as the remembered his birthplace down in the south.

The colonel took over where Buck had stop, “Even Buford couldn’t keep Chris out of harm’s way.”

“General Buford was down. Don’t ever let Chris hear you say that what happened that day was General Buford’s fault. Chris loved that man like a father. More then that so called father that abandon him. When Chris saved Devin from being captured by the rebels, he was doing his duty,” Buck stated in the dead general’s defense.

Defending his own general, Thomason said in a cold voice, “The Blue Ghost was in Vicksburg, under orders from General Grant, to stay away from Shellburne when Chris was captured.”

“Is that when Chris got the medal? Buck you knew the Blue Ghost?” JD asked in awe. Every school boy heard of the Blue Ghost, the one man who slipped through Confederate lines, bringing out gold and information about rebel troop movement.

“What medal?” Josiah asked, not seeing the medal earlier.

“It seems that Mr. Larabee received the Congressional Medal of Honor for his gallant deed of saving Colonel Devin’s life, I presume at the near cost of his own.” Ezra said, he wondered if the others had figured it out yet, just where Chris had disappeared to. As for the Blue Ghost, Ezra had heard the rumors after the war that the man was from the south, a traitor.

“You’re right Ezra, saving Devin that day almost cost Chris his life. They gave him a medal for it. As for the Blue Ghost JD, didn’t I tell you to stop reading those dime store novels? You can’t believe what they write in them…the Blue Ghost was just a man, a hard cold man who didn’t care about anything but his duty.”

Seeing that the colonel was about to explode; JD turned to the quiet preacher and asked, “Josiah which side did you fight on?” Josiah was taken back, shaken; before he could answer he heard the colonel’s voice.
.
“North, South. Blue or gray, it doesn’t matter anymore boy, we’re all Americans now. In the end, when they lay dying on the cold, wet, fields of Shiloh, Chattanooga, and in the lush green fields of the Shenandoah Valley. They bled red. What’s important is to remember those brave men who fought and those that died for what they believed in, no matter what color they wore or the color of their skin. They died Americans, they lived on as Americans under one flag.”

“Amen brother,” Josiah whispered.

Vin broke the silences, “So why after all this time is Shellburne back? Why is he after Chris? The war’s over.”

“The war will never be over for Shellburne til he hunts down and kills the Blue Ghost. After the war Shellburne dropped out of sight. We believe he headed towards Mexico. About a year ago new plates were stolen from the US Treasury department. We suspected Shellburne had a hand in the theft and counterfeit bills have been showing up all around the territory. Again we suspect that Shellburne is trying to draw out the Blue Ghost. His identity is still only known to a handful of men, and the Blue Ghost now works for the new Secret Service department. It was just blind luck on Shellburne’s part to have run into Chris in New Y….” Thomason stopped, then continued, “it doesn’t matter where but Shellburne must of followed Chris back to Four Corners.”

“Colonel Thomason, you believe the counterfeiters are hiding out somewhere near here and Shellburne’s with them?” Vin asked.

“Maybe… I can answer that better then the Colonel.” Major Winslow stated, as he advanced into the shack, holding a dispatch in his hand. “C Troop has trailed the outlaws to the entrance of Coyote Canyon, where we lost their tracks. We need a tracker. Sir, this is for you.” Winslow handed the dispatch over to the colonel.

The colonel felt all eyes in the room turn towards him, as he read the dispatch. The wolves are on the hunt, looking up at the major, he said, “Damn that Sheridan, I have my orders gentlemen. By orders of the general, Christopher is to be taken under guard back to town.” The six peacekeepers stood up out their seats, hands on their guns. “Gentlemen, please. It’s for his own safety. Don’t ask me how he does it, but the general will be in town tomorrow night and he aspects Shellburne’s head on a gold plate.”

“He’s coming here…?” a rough, harsh voice choked out. Nathan moved to Chris’ side and checked his forehead, still feverish, but not deadly hot. The healer went to the stove and started to mix more herbs for the gunslinger to drink. “Vin, they need a tracker. You’re the best…” Chris closed his eyes; his lungs burned with each painful breath. “Don’t wait for me,” he uttered between breaths.

“Which direction did you say the counterfeiters were heading?” Vin turned and questioned Major Winslow.

“Southwest. We lost their tracks in the rocky terrain of the canyon,” Winslow replied. “Almost lost several men yesterday when a flash flood raced through the narrow canyon floor. It will be dangerous.” His eyes gleaned with the anticipation of catching and ending a year old search.

“It will take a full night’s ride to reach the canyon,” Vin said, thinking out loud. The tracker glanced around the gunslinger’s shack, picking out items they would need for the long trail.

“If we leave now, we can reach Grey Tail cliff before sunrise,” Buck added, knowing that they had no choice. If they waited Shellburne would attack again without warning. Better to take the fight to the outlaws first. Buck watched his oldest friend struggle for each breath he took. Buck turned; his charcoal brown eyes met the blue cold steel ones of the tracker’s. Both agreed in that moment to leave Chris behind, but in whose hands?

“Gentlemen, I have a solution to your uncertain dilemma. I would be honored to lead the entourage for our distinguished hero, and secure his deliverance back to our fair town,” Ezra said, solving the dispute.

Buck gave the southern gambler a lop sided look, and said, “Nathan, can Chris ride in the morning?”

“I’ll ride.” Chris, hacked, his throat dry, forcing the air out of his lungs. Nathan glanced over his shoulders, a disturbed expression on his face. Chris’s lungs were becoming congested. The healer rummaged the gunslinger’s cupboard as the others continued to make plans to ride out after the horses had been watered and fed. Shoving cans around, the healer found what he was looking on the back shelve. Opening the tin can, he took a whiff, his nose wrinkled at the smell. Deciding that the spice was still good, Nathan grabbed a bowl and poured a cup of floor from the bin under the hutch, and then added three teaspoons of the brownish yellow power. After mixing the two dry ingredients, Nathan walked over to the water pump and added just enough water to make a paste. Stirring with a wooden spoon, Nathan transferred the mixture back over to the stove and heated the medicated mass til it was soft. Nathan turned his head sideways; the room soon reeked of mustard. Spreading the poultice on a hot cloth, Nathan advanced on his victim.

“Don’t you walk out that door yet. I’m gonna need ya to hold the stubborn man down,” Nathan told the five peacekeepers who was backing away from the smelly cloth, their eyes full of horror. The six men all recognized the smell and JD and Ezra were the first to high tail it out the door, almost running over the two cavalry officers. Chris was about to be drenched in mustard. “Now Chris, don’t you give me that look. This will help with your breathing,” Nathan told the struggling gunslinger as he attempted to rise from the bed.

“Sorry cowboy,” said Vin as he took hold of Chris’ shoulder forcing the gunslinger back against the bed. Vin turned his nose up at the smell penetrating his nostrils. Josiah grabbed the gunslinger’s kicking feet, turning his head away from the foul odor, his eyes watering.

“Don’t you put that stuff on me,” Chris snarled between coughs, struggling against the hands that kept him bound to the bed. Ignoring the gunslinger, Buck battled to unbutton Chris’ cream-colored longjohns so that Nathan could slap the mustard covered cloth against the sick man’s chest. At first the hot cloth burned against Chris’ skin, then a warm sensation spread down his chest, sending healing rays of warmth to his congested lungs. Chris’s eyes became heavy and he soon drifted back to sleep.

“That will keep him down for the rest of the night, giving you boys the time to head on out to the canyon. If he wakes up while you’re still here, we will have a hell of a time keeping him from riding along.” Nathan stood by the bed looking down at his stubborn patient, hands on his hip, his shirt smudged with mustard.

“If all goes as planned, we will be back in town tomorrow night,” Buck said, pausing before he added, “If you have any trouble, send Ezra after us.” He was finding it hard to leave his friend, shifting his feet back and fourth, Buck finally walked out of the shack, edging his way between the soldiers, he headed over to the corral to saddle Darling.

The giant preacher bowed his head in prayer before he made his way out the door to saddle Dulcinea.

“He’ll be all right, Vin,” Nathan told the tracker.

“You’re sure?” Vin whispered.

“Yes,” Nathan reassured the tracker. Reluctantly Vin went outside, the others already sitting on their horses. He was halfway up on Unalil when he heard Nathan’s voice called out, “Ezra, I need more wood chopped for the fire.”

As Vin settling on the saddle, Ezra came in his view, with his arms full of wood. The gambler hustled as he made his way toward the stack. Satisfied that Ezra wouldn’t let them down, Vin turned to the others and said, “Let’s ride.”

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