Soul Searching - Part 2

Vin had no idea what to make of the silence from the man behind him. He knew Chris wasn’t any more of a talker than he was, but he also knew the man had no problem making his thoughts clear when he wanted to. And so far there’d been nothing. Part of him wanted to turn and see what effect his words were having, but another part refused. He wanted to get this all out, to tell the whole story, and he knew that if Chris gave even the smallest sign of disgust, he’d never be able to finish.

He sighed and ran both hands through his hair. "Like I said, I done all right fer a while. But those were bad times," he breathed, remembering all too well the hardships caused by the war. "I took more’n more ta stayin’ away from folks … Hell, they had their own worries; they didn’t need mine, too. I jist kinda took t’ driftin’." He gave a low, wry chuckle. "Habit of a lifetime, I reckon. Fiddle-footed stray, never sittin’ at any one fire too long … Afraid to," he said hoarsely. "There’s fellers out there who see a kid alone and, well, hell," he sighed. "Sometimes bein’ alone ain’t the worst thing that can happen."

Chris winced at that and looked away, not wanting to know what those soft words meant but unable to stop the lurid flow of ugly images that poured through his mind. He didn’t want to think about what could happen to a scrawny, soft-voiced, blue-eyed boy in a world of dangerous, brutal men, but couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t green or naive, hadn’t been in a very long time.

And Vin didn’t like to be touched.

"I fell in with some fellers once," Vin said, his tone flat and without emotion. "Said they’s jist back from the war." He gave a short laugh. "Run away from it, more like. They seemed all right at first, like they’s glad ta have somebody amongst ’em who could rustle up game. But then they decided I had other uses …"

Chris wanted to scream at him to stop but couldn’t get the words through the tight knot in his throat. He closed his eyes tightly and bowed his head, not wanting to hear any of this but knowing he had no choice. Vin had lived it; the least he could do was listen to it.

Painfully aware of Larabee’s silence, Vin forced himself to continue. "A Comanche huntin’ party found me after them fellers’d had their fun and moved on. I’s hurt like I hadn’t never been hurt before, but still I grabbed my rifle. Figgered I’d die, but I also figgered I wouldn’t be the only one." A slow smile curved about his mouth and his voice grew warm. "Two Horses told me later that’s why they decided ta help me instead of killin’ me. Said anybody who had that much spirit belonged with the People and not with the dead. So they took me back, and him an’ his wife took me in. Their own son had died of some fever, and he said he reckoned the Spirits figgered he needed another."

He summoned all his courage and turned slowly to face Chris, who still sat with head bowed and shoulders slumped. Something inside him died at the sight.

"Yeah," he breathed dejectedly, "’at’s how I know why Claire Mosely didn’t say nothin’. Me an’ her … we weren’t captured, weren’t took against our will. Or not by Indians, anyway. It was white folks who done us harm, but that don’t matter ’cause at least they was white. What was wrong, and what folks cain’t or won’t forgive, is that we went with Indians of our own free will. Turned our backs on our own an’ took up with savages. Animals. And that made us worse’n them." He stared at Larabee’s bent figure and anger, deep and hot and hard, welled up from within him, from a place he’d almost forgotten existed. "I lived with ’em fer nigh on four years," he said hoarsely, refusing to feel shame at a cherished part of his past. "And I didn’t ever regret a single day! They took me in as one ’a their own, gimme a place among ’em, took care ’a me, taught me. They felt sorry that I’s born white, but they didn’t hold it against me. Hell, Two Horses used ta tell me he figgered I’s meant ta be Comanche all along, but somethin’ jist got mixed up along the way! So don’t you dare feel sorry fer me, Larabee, ’cause that’s one part of my life I wouldn’t change if I could!"

Chris raised his head abruptly at that and confusion creased his face. "Sorry? Vin, I don’t–" He saw the tracker’s anger, his defiance, and his own confusion deepened. Then he remembered all the insults heaped upon the man over the past few days, and understanding hit him in a sickening rush. "Oh, Jesus," he groaned. Pushing aside the pain Tanner’s story had caused him, he pulled himself to his feet and gazed unflinchingly into those blazing blue eyes. "Jesus, Vin, I don’t feel sorry for you, and I sure as hell don’t think any less of you!" he declared fervently. "Hell, I’m just glad you had somebody ta take care of ya! Maybe once I would’ve cared what color their skin was, but if I’ve learned anything from this whole goddamned mess, it’s that we ain’t always right and they ain’t always wrong and sometimes we’re the worst savages of all."

Vin gasped sharply and had to take a quick step backward to keep himself from falling. Chris’s words weren’t at all what he’d expected to hear, what he’d grown accustomed to hearing, and he wasn’t at all sure how to take them. Nor was he sure what to make of the look in the man’s eyes. No contempt, no disgust, no hate, but only concern, sorrow and a tenderness that he’d not seen in a very long time.

Not since …

Chris saw a shadow flickering in the blue eyes and frowned slightly. "What is it?" he asked softly. Vin licked his lips and looked as if he wanted to speak, but remained silent. "There’s more, isn’t there?" he guessed. "Look, why don’t you come over here by the fire and sit down. I know you’re tired. You probably haven’t slept more than a few hours since this whole thing started. So come on," he held out a hand, palm up, "come sit over here with me. Talk to me, Vin," he pleaded gently. "I want you to believe you can trust me."

Vin stared at him through wide, dark eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. "I do trust ya," he breathed, the words coming of their own accord. "Ain’t ever trusted anybody like I do you …" He looked down at that open, inviting hand and frowned, then lifted his gaze back to Larabee’s face and frowned more deeply still. "A few minutes ago," he began softly, haltingly, searching Chris’s face and not understanding what he saw there, "when I turned around … y’ wasn’t lookin’ at me … Y’ looked … hell, ya looked like you was gonna be sick … Why?" he demanded in confusion. "I mean, if y’ain’t disgusted that I lived like I done …" He exhaled sharply and shook his head. "I don’t understand!"

Chris thought carefully, knowing he’d have to phrase his words just right. He understood so much more about Vin now, understood just how little experience he had with caring, with love, and realized that whatever he said now would have the power to draw Tanner closer to him … or send him running away forever.

"You’re right," he said at last, his voice low and even, "for a while I thought I was gonna be sick. Not because of anything you’ve done," he added quickly as panic flared in Tanner’s eyes, "but because of the things that’ve been done to ya. God, Vin!" he groaned, moving toward the tracker and stopping just before him, his green eyes filling with anguish. "When I think about what those bastards did ta you– You were just a kid! Jesus," he spat, green eyes glittering murderously, "I’d like ta find every one of those sonsabitches and tear ’em ta pieces!"

Startled by Larabee’s fury, Vin reached out without thinking and laid a tentative hand on his arm. "It’s all right, Chris," he said softly. "I’m all right–"

"It’s not all right, damn it!" he growled through clenched teeth. "They preyed on you, Vin! They knew you couldn’t fight back and they preyed on you! They hurt you! And that could never be all right!" He clamped a tight lid down on his anger then, exhaling deeply and shaking his head. "Don’t you understand, Vin?" he asked urgently. "What happened ta you should never have happened. You deserved – you deserve – better. And I’m glad Two Horses or whatever his name is was there to give it to ya."

"Was," Vin said softly, dropping his hand from Larabee’s arm.

Chris blinked. "What?"

Vin sighed, suddenly feeling every bit of his exhaustion. "Was. His name was Two Horses." He swallowed and looked away, blinking hard against the sudden sting of tears. "He’s dead now," he rasped thickly. "Most of ’em are dead now."

"God," Chris sighed, hurting for the young man before him. Then, noticing that Vin was swaying on his feet, he took the tracker’s arm in a gentle grip and pulled lightly on it. "C’mon," he said quietly, "let’s sit down before you fall."

Vin went with him without a moment’s hesitation, never once questioning this man’s right to lead him. And Tanner had never been a man who was easily led.

Chris got Vin settled once more on his blanket and handed him the larger portion of rabbit. "Eat," he ordered firmly. "Nathan said you haven’t been doin’ near enough of that."

"Hard ta swallow," Vin muttered, staring disinterestedly down at the meat.

"Then take small bites and chew ’em up good. But you’re gonna eat." He picked up Vin’s cup and went to the fire, dumping the coffee that had gone cold onto the ground and pouring a fresh cup. Then he carried the cup to his own blanket, set it down and reached for the bottle of whiskey. Opening it, he poured a generous portion into the hot liquid before turning and handing the cup back to Vin. "Here. You need this, too."

Vin took the cup with a weak smile, more warmed by the notion of this man caring about him and taking care of him than he could be by any amount of food or drink. "Thanks."

Chris smiled back, grateful to see even that faint light returning to the faded blue eyes. "You’re welcome. Now, I ain’t goin’ anywhere, so you can take as long as you want ta talk. Or," he shrugged, "you don’t have ta say another word. I won’t pry, and you don’t owe me any explanations."

Vin searched the green eyes intently and saw nothing but concern for him in them. And that settled it. "Y’ said ya come up here ta … ta figger out … us," he said softly, hesitantly. "That true?"

"Yeah."

He sighed tiredly and nodded. "Then I reckon I do owe ya an explanation," he breathed. "I don’t want ya makin’ no decisions ’til ya know … well, ’til ya know fer sure this is … I’m … what ya really want."

"I already know, Vin–"

"No, y’ think y’ know." He looked again into those eyes and wanted nothing more than to drown in them. "But I need ya t’ be sure."

Chris nodded. "Fair enough." He moved to sit on Vin’s blanket, close by the tracker’s side, and once more turned so that he faced Tanner’s profile. "But I gotta tell ya, pard, I don’t see anything you say changin’ what I feel."

Again Vin’s smile ghosted forth, teasing his mouth and giving a pale light to his eyes. "I hope yer right," he breathed. He set down his cup and picked off a small bit of rabbit, slipping it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, swallowed carefully, and tried to figure out just what the hell to say.

Chris waited patiently, doing or saying nothing to rush him. He was more than content simply to sit here with Tanner and let him tell his story in his own way. Familiar as he was with the man’s long silences, he knew it could take a good while, but he didn’t care. Anything as important as this, as important as Vin, was well worth the wait.

Vin felt the calm reassurance coming from Larabee and was deeply grateful for it. He’d never realized until now how much he depended on the man for strength, for the sense that all was right in his world. And he’d never realized until now just how much he’d missed in his life by not having this before.

Chris watched Vin eat the rabbit and drink his coffee, and marveled at the feeling of peace such a small moment gave him. He’d forgotten this, he realized, had forgotten the deep contentment that came from just being with another, sharing the warmth of bodies and the closeness of souls and knowing that, no matter what else he got in life, nothing could be more right than this.

When at last Vin finished, he wiped the grease from his fingers with the bandanna, then glanced at Chris. "Ain’t you gonna eat?"

"In a bit." A slow smile spread across his face and warmed his eyes. "Kinda like watchin’ you do it."

Vin ducked his head as a hot flush rose through his face. "Hell," he breathed, feeling a strange sort of fluttering inside him. He was having trouble swallowing again, and he knew it had nothing to do with his injured throat.

Chris decided he liked that blush. He’d noted it before, usually when one of the women in town did the tracker some kindness, but he much preferred knowing he’d caused it.

"Y’ain’t gotta look so smug," Vin grumbled, gazing at the smirking gunman from the corner of his eye and wondering why in the hell he felt like a rabbit being measured up by a hungry wolf.

"I’m not smug," Chris answered lazily, still smiling. "I’m just enjoyin’ the view."

The blush darkened, the fluttering grew stronger, and Vin’s head went lower. "Shit," he whispered.

"Might as well get used to it," Chris said. "I like lookin’ at ya, and I figure I’ll be doin’ a lot more of it."

The words brought back all of Vin’s uncertainties, and he lifted dark and doubtful eyes to Chris. "Best wait ta say them kinds’a things ’til ya know more about me."

Chris leaned forward and reached out, running the backs of his fingers lightly along Vin’s jaw. "You can tell me anything you want," he said softly, "but I already know everything about you I need ta know. And somehow I just don’t see that changin’."

Vin closed his eyes and turned his face into that caress, feeling it go all the way through him. He’d wanted this for so long, had dreamed about it countless times, yet the reality of it was far beyond anything he’d imagined. Chris was touching him, those long, slender fingers moving with a wondrous gentleness over his skin, and he damn near wept from the pleasure of it.

But touching Vin wasn’t nearly enough for Chris. Leaning closer still, he gently turned the tracker’s face to his and lowered his head, pressing his lips to Tanner’s in a whisper-soft kiss that seared his mouth like the strike of lightning. And though he’d never kissed a man before, had never imagined himself kissing a man, there was no tentativeness to him now. That wide, full mouth with its firm, warm lips was everything he craved and he claimed it without hesitation, letting his hunger pour forth until he was feasting on the tracker like a starving man upon a banquet.

With a harsh groan, Vin rose to his knees and turned his body into Larabee’s, reaching up to push the black hat back from the golden head and burying his hands in the silken hair. Chris’s lips moved hungrily against his and he returned their pressure, drinking deeply of their sweetness. Then the man’s tongue demanded entry and he gave it willingly, his own tongue rising to meet its mate, the two stroking and swirling and twining in an intimate dance. Chris’s taste and scent went through him in waves and he took them ever more deeply into himself, wanting never to be without them.

"Oh, Lord," he murmured on a shaky sigh when the kiss finally ended. Lightheaded and short of breath, he dropped his head onto Chris’s shoulder and clung to the man with trembling hands, his thoughts scattering like leaves before the wind.

"Yeah," Chris whispered, resting a cheek against Vin’s head and closing his eyes. He slipped an arm about the tracker and held him close, intensely grateful he’d finally gotten up the courage to pursue this. "You all right?"

"Don’t know," Vin managed to rasp, his voice still far from steady. "But if I ain’t, I don’t want nobody tryin’ ta cure me."

Chris chuckled quietly. "Then we won’t tell anybody about it."

Vin raised his head and pulled back slightly, staring into Chris’s eyes. Larabee’s words had been in jest, but they roused a solemn seriousness in him. "Cain’t tell ’em," he said softly, his blue eyes dark. "Won’t nobody understand. They’ll think it ain’t natural, ain’t right … They’ll look in their Bibles an’ tell us we’re goin’ ta hell, then do all they can ta send us there."

"Vin–"

"Ya cain’t tell ’em, Chris!" he said forcefully, his eyes almost feverish. He grabbed Larabee’s shirt and knotted his long fingers in the fabric, hanging on to it for all he was worth. "I seen what they do! They got rules! They don’t understand–"

"Whoa, hold on there, pard!" Chris soothed, covering Vin’s hands with his own and holding them lightly. "I’m not gonna tell anybody anything, I promise. It was just a joke–"

"Cain’t joke about some things," Vin said hoarsely, fear glittering in his eyes. "Ya don’t know … I seen ’em … what they can do …" He freed a shaking hand from Larabee’s grasp and raised it to his face, stroking the gunman’s cheek with trembling fingers. "Don’t wanta lose you, too," he whispered. "I jist couldn’t take it."

Chris went still at that, his eyes widening in surprise. "Too?" he breathed.

Vin sighed and pulled out of Chris’s hold, sitting down again and looking away. "Reckon it’s time I told ya the rest of it," he breathed. "I’d appreciate it if ya didn’t say nothin’ ’til I’m done. Jist lemme git it all out."

Chris nodded, wondering just how much more there could be and bracing himself for it. He’d told Vin he could trust him. It was time to live up to that.

Vin swallowed hard, gathering his composure, then started to speak in a low, barely audible voice. "Indians … ain’t got the same beliefs … ’bout two men wantin’ each other that whites do. Don’t see nothin’ wrong with it." He shrugged. "They reckon it’s jist another way of doin’ things." He swallowed again and licked his lips, turning over thoughts and words in his mind. Not once did he look at Chris. "When I’s livin’ with Two Horses, there was a warrior, Black Wolf …" He closed his eyes as painful images of the young man rose again in his mind, reminding him of what he’d lost.

And how.

"Me and him …" His voice broke, and it was all he could do to continue. "I hadn’t ever felt that way ’bout nobody before, didn’t even know I could. I mean, after what them fellers did, I couldn’t even bear the thought of bein’ with nobody. ’Til Black Wolf. He was a few years older’n me, but still … Didn’t nobody mind, not even Two Horses. Jist said that’s how the Spirits worked sometimes."

Unable to help himself, Chris reached out and laid a hand to Vin’s back, then began to rub gently. He could feel the pain pouring from the tracker and wasn’t about to let him suffer alone.

"Don’t know what woulda happened," Vin breathed. "Didn’t ever have the chance ta find out. Had it all took from me. Again."

Chris flinched and averted his gaze but never stopped rubbing Vin’s back. He understood now why Vin had been afraid he’d pull away and needed the man to know he was still here. Would always be here.

"When I’s risin’ seventeen, soldiers attacked the village … They jist came tearin’ through early one mornin’, shootin’ at whatever moved …" Shots and screams rang again in his mind, but he shut them out with an effort. "They said later it was because the warriors had raided a settlement, but that was a lie. If it happened, it was another band, but that didn’t matter. One dead Comanche’s as good as another, I reckon. Anyways, me an’ Black Wolf’d spent the night t’gether down by the river, an’ we’s jist wakin’ up when they attacked. Some soldiers come up on us, an’ I reckon it didn’t take much t’ figger out what we was doin’ …"

Tears stung his eyes and rolled slowly down his cheeks, but he never felt them. "I’d stopped thinkin’ in the white man’s language by then, an’ I didn’t understand half ’a what them soldiers said. All’s I knew was that they took an awful lotta pleasure in killin’ him. He fought ’em, though, we both did, but it weren’t no use. There was jist too many of ’em. By the time they figgered out I’s white I’s already hurt … I wanted ’em ta kill me too, but they didn’t. Jist threw me over the back of a horse an’ took me outta there. I didn’t wanta go, fought ’em fer as long as I could, but it didn’t matter. They’s takin’ me away from my family, but it didn’t matter. Didn’t nothin’ matter ta them soldiers ’cept gettin’ me outta there an’ killin’ as many Indians as they could. Even if they wasn’t the right Indians."

Chris’s stomach turned over at the thought of what Vin had suffered that day, and what he must’ve suffered after. And he began to understand just a bit more about Claire Mosely.

"They took me back t’ their fort," Vin said tiredly. "Had a doctor patch me up and a preacher pray over me. They reckoned I’d been corrupted by them ‘heathens,’ reckoned the devil had got inta my soul an’ they had t’ git him out again. They cut my hair, scrubbed me ’til my skin damn near bled, called me names I couldn’t understand and wouldn’t gimme no food nor water ’til I asked fer it in English." He raised his head suddenly and flashed an angry, defiant gaze at Chris. "I never did tell ’em my name, though," he said proudly. "They figgered I’d fergot it, but I never did. I jist couldn’t stand the thought of them speakin’ the Tanner name. They wasn’t fit to."

Chris met that gaze and gave Vin a slight nod, proud of that boy’s show of spirit. Nope, so far he hadn’t heard a damn thing that changed the way he felt about Tanner.

"I stayed jist long enough ta heal up some," Vin said, his anger deserting him. "Soon as I’s able, though, I got away. But nearly ever’body I’d cared about was dead. Two Horses, his wives, Black Wolf … Weren’t no use goin’ back t’ the village, ’cause there weren’t nothin’ left. So I jist started driftin’ again. Sometimes I took up with Indians, sometimes with white folks. But I never stayed nowhere long. Couldn’t see the point, when likely I’d jist lose it all again. An’ I ain’t ever let myself come close ta feelin’ fer nobody else what I felt fer Black Wolf." Again his gaze searched out and held Larabee’s. "’Til you."

Chris reached out and slid callused fingertips lightly over the younger man’s cheek to brush away his tears, his eyes never wavering from Tanner’s. "I’m sorry," he breathed softly. "Sorry for all you went through then, sorry all this brought it back, sorry for every cruel word that’s ever been said ta you, then or now. Mostly I’m sorry for not seein’ before now just what all this was doin’ ta you. If I’da known–"

"’S all right," Vin sighed, feeling those eyes and that hand working their healing magic upon him. "Don’t matter none."

"It does matter, Vin," Chris said quietly, firmly. "You matter. And the thought of you bein’ hurt like that … I can’t imagine how you survived."

Vin shrugged lightly. "Jist did. Always been good at that. Ain’t always understood why … But mebbe this is it." He lifted a hand and laid it over Chris’s, curling his fingers about the gunman’s. "Mebbe Two Horses was right all them years ago. He told me I had Spirits watchin’ over me, guidin’ me … Mebbe they still are. Mebbe I had t’ go through all that t’ get here. T’ get t’ you. Mebbe all this time, you’re what I been survivin’ for."

"God, I hope so!" Chris breathed fervently. "Because I don’t ever plan ta let you go."

Vin stiffened as those words, and the feeling behind them, went straight to his soul. Before he could make any answer, though, Chris’s mouth again descended on his and he gave in willingly to it, allowing it to quench the last of his doubts. Then Chris’s arms were twining about him, pulling him against that lean, hard body, and all the pain of his past was swept from him by waves of pleasure.

Chris tightened his arms about the tracker, amazed at how right it felt to hold this man against him. In all the time he’d been considering how he felt about Vin, he’d never really given any thought to the physical consummation of those feelings. Had never imagined that finally admitting he did have feelings would open the floodgates of passion. But those gates were open now, and his body was reacting in ways he never would have thought possible to the taste, scent and feel of the man in his arms. He wanted Vin, not just in some abstract, intangible sense that had everything to do with romance and nothing whatsoever to do with reality, but in an unabashedly carnal way that turned his blood to molten fire and had his flesh hard and aching with desire.

Tanner had already claimed his soul; he thought it was high time the man got his body, as well.

He broke the kiss gently and pulled back, and found himself gazing into blue eyes gone dark and hazy with that same desire. Vin’s face was flushed, his breathing was fast and a light sheen of sweat glistened over his flesh. As Chris continued to stare at him, Vin pulled away and settled himself once more into his former cross-legged position, slowly licking his kiss-swollen lips. Chris watched that tongue in rapt fascination, wondering how so small a gesture could get his heart beating so fast.

"Y’ sure ’bout this, Chris?" Vin asked in a breathless, unsteady voice. He could see the hunger glinting in the brilliant green eyes, had felt it in the body pressing so close against his own. And while he knew this was exactly what he wanted, he also knew he’d forsake it if Chris had even the smallest doubt.

Though God alone knew where he’d find the strength …

Chris reached out and ran his fingertips along Vin’s jaw, then lightly stroked his whisker-stubbled chin with a callused thumb. "Only been this sure one other time," he breathed, his eyes drinking in every aspect of Tanner’s face and committing each detail to memory. "And I’m hopin’ this turns out to be just as right."

Vin’s eyes widened and a soft, startled gasp escaped him. He knew how much Larabee had loved his wife and was stunned to hear the man put him on the same plane as her. This was rapidly becoming even more than he’d ever dreamed, and he’d had some pretty impressive dreams.

"I’m not gonna lie to ya, though," Chris went on in that same low voice, his thumb now stroking Tanner’s throat. "I’ve never been with a man before, never even thought about bein’ with one. You’re the first, and if I have my way the only, so you’re gonna have ta teach me." A slow smile curved about his mouth and his green eyes glowed like heated kilns. "You think you can do that?"

Vin shivered and gasped again as that thumb moved lightly, lovingly against his bruised throat, as that gentle touch sent heat racing along his every nerve. Unable to tear his gaze from Larabee’s, feeling his whole world shrinking to just this man, he licked his lips once more and nodded slowly, wondering exactly when he’d died and gone to heaven.

"Reckon I could … give it a whirl," he rasped. "Likely know a thing ’r two ya might like."

Chris gave a wolfish smile and arched a brow wickedly. "Oh, I just bet you do! But," his smile faded and he slid his hand around to the back of Tanner’s neck, long fingers cupping gently, "I want you ta be sure, too. This isn’t just for me, and it isn’t just about me. Like I said before, you matter, and I’ll be damned if I’ll become just one more man who’s gotten his pleasure at your expense."

Vin smiled slightly, more touched by those words than he could ever say. "Didn’t ever think ya would," he said softly but with an unmistakable certainty. "Y’ jist ain’t got that in ya." He gave a short, humorless chuckle. "I seen enough ’a them types by now ta know ’em, and, b’lieve me, I’da lit out long ago if I thought you was one. Ain’t no man worth that kinda pain, no matter how good he looks."

Unashamedly pleased by those last words, Chris leaned back on his elbows, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankles, and gave Vin a self-satisfied smile. "So you think I look good?"

Vin swept his gaze over the long, lean body before him, then lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. "Ya got yer moments," he drawled insolently, stripping the smile from Larabee’s face.

"Now who’s lookin’ smug?" Chris growled, throwing a glare at the tracker that had its usual result. Which was none.

"Well," Vin breathed, going to his hands and knees and stalking slowly toward the gunman, "’s kinda hard ta tell anything fer sure with you wrapped in all that black. I mean, shit," he said in his low, hoarse drawl, "you could be ugly as hell under all them clothes."

Chris swallowed hard and sat up slowly as the tracker drew closer, made suddenly uneasy. Even on hands and knees, the man was as graceful as a cat. And, as those deep, dark blue eyes pinned him in place, he began to feel very much like a mouse.

Except that this mouse wanted to be caught.

"First of all," Vin said, settling on his haunches when he reached Chris’s side, "we gotta get rid ’a this hat. It hides yer eyes an’ that jist won’t do." He pulled the stampede strap over Larabee’s head and tossed the black hat carelessly aside, never taking his eyes from the gunman. He then set his hands on Chris’s shoulders and slid them slowly downward over the man’s chest, drawing a hard shudder and a sharp gasp from him. "’S all right," he breathed, leaning forward and pressing his mouth to Larabee’s, "I ain’t gonna hurt ya."

Chris groaned as those full, firm lips moved against his in a slow and searching kiss, as that luscious mouth seduced him. Vin didn’t rush a thing, but poured every bit of his considerable thoroughness and careful attention to detail into that kiss. He tasted, teased, nibbled and sucked, skimmed Larabee’s lips with his tongue and explored the dip in the lower one. His hands, meanwhile, wandered just as slowly over Larabee’s chest until he found the taut peaks of nipples beneath the shirt and ran his thumbs lightly over them.

"Jesus!" Chris gasped into Vin’s mouth as that touch drove shards of heat into him. He clutched at Tanner and inadvertently grabbed his ass. Then, liking the feel of the firm cheeks, Chris stroked and kneaded them through the tan fabric of the tracker’s pants. "God, ya feel so good!" he whispered.

"Y’ain’t felt nothin’ yet," Vin assured him. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into Larabee’s mouth and sweeping it through the warm, wet cavern, learning the taste and feel of Chris’s teeth, hard palate and tongue. Then, returning his hands to the gunman’s shoulders, he moved closer still and bore him back steadily against the blankets, slithering astride the narrow hips. Chris’s arms wound tight about him, pulling him down as well. Together they lay upon the blankets, mouths still joined, bodies and limbs entwined, neither man certain any longer where he stopped and the other began.

The feel of each against the other only heightened the heat building between them and gave a raw edge to their desire. But they did not rush this, didn’t want to rush it, didn’t want to waste a moment of this precious thing they had found. With curious mouths and slow hands they explored each other, deft tongues and long fingers nimbly stroking, thick groans and low growls of pleasure the only sounds to be heard.

Vin scraped his teeth over the slight cleft in Chris’s chin and trailed his mouth slowly down the long column of the gunman’s throat. He found the strong pulse throbbing rapidly there and sucked hungrily at it. Chris gasped and shuddered and dug his fingers into Tanner’s back, arching against the tracker as that mouth played havoc with his senses. He was startled by the ferocity of his own response, had never imagined he could want a man – hell, since Sarah, want anyone – so desperately. But every part of his body was on fire with need, every empty, aching part of him cried out to be filled by the young man who had so quietly, so quickly and so completely become the very center of his world.

God, why had it taken him so long to accept this?

Vin slid his mouth further down Chris’s throat, then was stopped by the collar of the man’s shirt. A low growl of frustration escaped him and he tore his mouth away, raising his head and fixing glittering eyes on Larabee.

"Need ta shuck these clothes, cowboy," he snarled, his expression gone feral with want. "Wanta see ya like God made ya."

Chris barely suppressed a shiver at the ferocious hunger written across Tanner’s face. Gone without a trace was the quiet, reserved, tightly controlled young man he’d grown accustomed to having at his side, the cool presence that was such a balance to his own more combustible temperament. Instead, he saw the wild creature that dwelt beneath the calm exterior, the deep and savage passions that roiled at the heart of the Texan. He suddenly understood just how thin, how precarious, was Tanner’s veneer of civilization, and realized that all this time he’d been standing with a wolf at his side.

Good thing he had only a passing use for civilization himself.

"Think you’re gonna have ta get off me then," he said finally, a slow smile curving about his lips. "Unless you know how I can get these clothes off around you."

Vin bared his teeth in a hungry grin. "Could jist cut ’em off," he rasped. "Be a helluva lot quicker that way, and I’ve about had my fill of waitin’."

Chris arched a golden brow at the words. He had no doubt Vin would do it, but … "Don’t know that folks in town’d appreciate me ridin’ back wearin’ nothin’ but a smile."

Vin snorted derisively. "Then they’re stupid. If they cain’t appreciate ya as y’ are–"

"You want others to appreciate me?" Chris teased.

That got him. "Hell, no!" he snarled, every territorial instinct snapping into place. "Yer mine, an’ I ain’t sharin’!"

Chris laughed softly and reached up, running slender fingers slowly through the wild tangle of the tracker’s long hair. "Good, ’cause I don’t fancy bein’ shared. And I don’t fancy sharin’ you, either." He winked. "I’m a greedy bastard, Tanner. I want you all to myself. And now that I got ya, I ain’t lettin’ go."

Vin swallowed and straightened slowly, blue eyes going wide in his suddenly still face. It wasn’t so much the words that caught him up, but the tone behind them and the expression in the deep green eyes that seemed to stare straight into his soul. Chris wasn’t just offering something for here and now, wasn’t just looking for a quick fuck to satisfy his lust or curiosity. This was much more, much deeper.

And it was all, and only, for him.

"I reckon … I can live with that," he breathed at last.

Chris smiled. "That’s what I was hopin’ for." He sat up slowly, forcing Vin to slide off his lap to the ground at his side. "So," he swept his gaze slowly over the tracker and cocked his head to one side, his smile turning sly, "think we could get ta that clothes-shuckin’ part now?" He winked. "I’d kinda like ta see what I’m gettin’ here."

Vin met that gaze with a challenging one of his own, lifting a brown brow. "You partic’lar ’r somethin’?"

Chris’s grin widened. "Or somethin’." Laughter glinted in his eyes. "Maybe I just wanta see if you’re really as scrawny as you look."

Indignation flooded Tanner’s face. "Aw, hell, yer one ta talk!" he snapped hoarsely. "Ain’t got enough meat on ya ta grab–"

"Didn’t notice you havin’ any problems a few minutes ago," Chris retorted.

Vin narrowed his eyes and scowled before slipping off his jacket. He tossed the coat near his saddle and stood up, reaching down and untying the thong securing the mare’s leg to his thigh. "Goddamn uppity gunfighter," he grumbled. "Jist ’cause he’s got a name fer shootin’ folks, he thinks he’s cock ’a the walk–"

"You keep this up," Chris warned, rising in a single lithe motion to his feet and untying his holster, "you could be the next one I shoot. And just when the hell did you get so talkative?"

Vin unbuckled the gunbelt and laid it beside the blanket, where it would be in easy reach, then unknotted the bandanna at his throat and let it drift somewhere in the vicinity of his coat. Next his nimble fingers began working on the buttons of his shirt. "Ya think yer the only one’s got somethin’ ta say?" he demanded.

Chris removed his gunbelt and set it on the ground on the other side of the blanket. "No, but usually a man could get old just waitin’ for you ta say it."

Vin tossed a sly glance at the gunman. "I reckon that ain’t near as long a wait fer some folks as fer others," he drawled, removing his shirt.

Chris paused in shrugging out of his shirt and glared menacingly at Tanner. "How much did you say you’re worth again?"

"Ya wouldn’t do it," Vin said with a smirk, toeing off his boots. "It’s more trouble than ya like."

"Hell, Tanner," Chris growled, taking off his shirt and letting it fall to the ground, "you’re more trouble than I like." He narrowed his eyes and pulled his mouth into a thin frown. "Probably more trouble than you’re worth, too."

Vin grinned and winked. "Ain’t but one way ta find out, is there?" He gripped his undershirt and pulled it over his head with a supple flex of arms and shoulders. "’Less you ain’t up to it."

Chris took one look at the tracker’s naked torso and knew without a doubt that he was definitely up to it. God, the man was beautiful! Long, lean and lithe like a cat, all sinewy muscle and hard bone, with not a spare ounce of fat on him. His skin was fairer than Chris would have thought, and Larabee smiled in surprise to see the freckles that marked it. But the smile faded as he also noticed the scars that marred it, far too many scars for someone so young, giving painful testimony to the hard life he’d lived.

Well, that would be changing, if Larabee had anything to do with it.

Vin felt the flush of heat rising through him as that dark gaze drank him in, felt his heart and breath quickening as Chris seemed to study every inch of him and commit every feature to memory. For a few moments he was self-conscious under that intense scrutiny, feared Chris would find something lacking in what he saw. But he found only pleasure that verged on wonder in the green eyes and couldn’t imagine what in him had inspired such a look. He figured Chris had pegged him right the first time when he’d called him "scrawny."

Larabee must’ve been doin’ without for an awful long time to look at him that way.

Chris exhaled unsteadily and licked his lips, trying to force his brain to function. But, God, having Vin so near made it awful damn difficult to think! Still, he managed to pull off his own undershirt without ripping it or choking himself, toed off his boots and peeled off his socks, then went to work on his pants. Trembling fingers grown unusually clumsy fumbled with the buttons, and the normally simple task of slipping them through the holes was made infinitely more complicated by the hard pressure of his swollen cock against them. He snarled and swore viciously as he fought with the buttons, his frustration mounting by the second.

Jesus, he was worse than a goddamn virgin in a whorehouse!

"Why’n’ta lemme help ya?" Vin asked a low, rasping voice in his ear as two long-fingered hands settled over and stilled his. He raised his head and found himself looking into dark blue eyes gleaming with laughter and lust. "Reckon this’s the price ya pay fer wearin’ these things like another skin."

"You complainin’?" Chris growled through gritted teeth.

"Not me," Vin breathed, taking a step closer and nuzzling lightly at Larabee’s jaw as his fingers worked at the buttons. "Kinda like bein’ able ta see what ya got in yer … pockets."

"Bastard!" Chris hissed sharply, jerking violently as those talented and tormenting hands played agonizingly against his crotch.

"Yeah, I know," Vin whispered, teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh just below Chris’s ear, "I’m jist low down." His fingers finally pushed the last button through its hole and, as he pulled the tight pants open, Larabee’s thick erection sprang free. "We-ell," he crowed, glancing down and grinning wickedly, "this a new way of shakin’ hands?"

"I’ll give you thirty seconds," Chris spat hoarsely, every drop of blood in his body shooting straight to his cock. "If you’ve still got your pants on then, I’m gonna shoot your sorry ass and collect on that goddamn bounty!"

"You ol’ sweet talker, you," Vin chuckled at the empty threat. But he obligingly pulled away and stripped himself of his pants and underwear.

And, to Chris’s chagrin, he did it without seeming either to struggle or to hurry.

Casting the last of his garments aside and settling easily into a crouch, Vin looked up at Chris, who had yet to move, and arched a brow. "There a paper out on you?"

Chris blinked in confusion and scowled. "You mean a bounty? Hell, no!" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why?"

Vin shrugged easily. "Jist wonderin’ if there’d be any money in killin’ ya or if I’d have ta do it jist fer the sheer pleasure." Chris stared at him in utter bewilderment, and he grinned at the man. "Thirty seconds is up, cowboy," he drawled, "an’ you ain’t shucked them pants yet."

"Hell, I shoulda stayed in town!" Chris muttered darkly. He shoved his hands into the waistband of his pants and underwear and thrust them down his hips, past his butt and over his long legs. "Coulda saved myself a helluva lot of aggravation!"

"Prob’ly so," Vin agreed sagely, his steady voice belying the blatant hunger glittering in eyes that drank in the beautiful man before him. "But they do say a little aggravation’s good fer a feller."

"Yeah, but you ain’t a ‘little’ aggravation, and you know it." He tossed the garments aside and sat down on the blanket. "There, ya happy– Shit!" he yelped in surprise as Tanner pounced, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back against the blanket. The speed of the attack caught him completely off guard and, before he could do more than suck in a breath, he was lying flat on his back with a hungry Texas tracker perched atop him and swooping in for the kill.

Or the kiss.

Vin’s mouth seized his ruthlessly, claiming it with a savage ferocity as the man’s hands roamed everywhere they could reach, stroking, kneading, pinching, igniting a thousand fires beneath Larabee’s skin. Tanner’s crotch ground into his and their cocks crossed, parried and thrust like swords in a duel, each bringing the other to greater fullness still. Chris clutched at Vin and writhed beneath him, against him, in a mounting frenzy, his need rolling through him in hard, hot waves.

Vin feasted ravenously on Chris’s mouth, sucking on his tongue and that tantalizing lower lip, his craving for the taste of the man insatiable. His hands skimmed down Larabee’s sides and followed the hard sweep of his ribs, then his fingers found the gunman’s nipples and stroked and pinched them to pebble-hardness. He wrenched his mouth from Chris’s and swept it over the man’s strong jaw and down his long throat, kissing, licking, biting, growing drunk upon him. Rational thought was fast disappearing, until all that existed was his all-consuming need for this man.

Chris clutched and clawed at the tracker, stroking and fondling whatever part of that lithe body he could reach. Each time Vin shifted, Chris thrust against him, driven entirely now by the force of his hunger. He was in agony, his every nerve screaming, his cock so hard he truly feared it might burst.

"Jesus … Vin … help me!" he gasped in torment.

Tanner raised his head at that and stared into the gunman’s flushed and sweat-slicked face, his own eyes gone almost black from desire. He knew what he wanted, needed, but had no idea whether Chris would agree.

Could agree.

But, Lord, all he’d ever wanted was to be inside this man …

"I can … take both our hurtin’ away," he rasped at last, his voice thick and harsh. "But ya gotta trust me. And … ya gotta want it." He reached down with a trembling hand and brushed a shock of sweat-soaked hair back from Larabee’s forehead. "I won’t do nothin’ you don’t want, Chris. I won’t ever do that. Wouldn’t ever want ya ta know how that feels."

"What … whatta ya … wanta do?" Chris gasped, as curious as he was uncertain.

Vin tenderly stroked the man’s beautiful face, his love palpable in every touch. "I wanta be inside ya," he breathed roughly. "Wanta feel ya all around me. There’s a way … I can make ya feel real good, but ya gotta trust me, else it might hurt an’ I’d rather die than do that."

Chris stared up at Tanner, not knowing what to think. He had an idea of what he meant and felt a strong twinge of unease, not at all certain he could bring himself to agree. But the want in Vin’s eyes was every bit as great as his own, and he knew, he knew, that the man would never willingly hurt him.

He’d already trusted Tanner with his life, his heart, his soul. How could he possibly not trust him with his body?

"Well, hell," he breathed at last, a slight smile curving about his kiss-swollen lips, "I didn’t come up here just ta be kissed."

Vin caught his breath, hardly daring to believe he’d heard or understood the words right. For a moment his whole world shifted, then grew absolutely still as he was faced with the unfamiliar prospect of getting everything he wanted just as he’d dreamed of having it.

"Ya hear me, Vin?" Chris asked softly, startled by the shock in the tracker’s face. "I said yes."

Vin managed to nod slowly, still dazed. "I h … I heard," he answered weakly. "I jist …" He swallowed hard and tried to collect his thoughts. "Reckon I jist weren’t expectin’ it, is all."

Chris was tempted to laugh, but stopped himself when he realized Vin was serious. Then he studied the tracker more closely, noted the almost childlike delight in those expressive eyes, and felt a hard tug at his heart.

God, what kind of life left a man so young completely unprepared to get what he wanted?

Before he could say anything, though, Vin gathered himself, swooped down and kissed him hard once more, then lifted himself on his hands and knees and leaned over him to reach for the saddlebags nearby. Pulling them to him, he opened one and rummaged through it, finally drawing out a small tin. He returned the saddlebags to their resting place, then held the tin for Larabee to see.

"Makes it easier," he explained, pulling off the lid. "Helps keep ya from hurtin’." He raised the tin to his nose and sniffed. "It’s a salve, comes from a plant real good fer healin’ skin. Works real nice on sunburn." He looked at Chris and winked. "But it’s got other uses, too."

"You gonna show me?"

A slow, wolfish smile spread over Tanner’s face and a feral light glittered in his eyes. "Gonna do more’n show ya, cowboy," he breathed in a low, husky drawl.

Chris shivered as that voice scraped across every over-sensitized nerve. He knew he shouldn’t find it so attractive since much of the hoarseness was due to Chanu’s attack, but he couldn’t help being aroused by it. When perfectly healthy, Vin’s naturally raspy voice could turn a simple greeting into a soft caress. Now, though, every word was a blatant seduction.

But that seduction didn’t stop with his voice. Acutely aware of Chris’s gaze upon him, Vin dipped his long fingers into the salve and scooped out a generous amount, every movement slow and deliberate. He recapped the tin and laid it aside, then brought his fingers to his nose and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply the scent of the salve.

Chris swallowed hard, mesmerized by the movements of those fingers and by the pleasure reflected in the tracker’s face. He so rarely saw this side of Vin – completely unguarded, free – with everything he saw and felt so openly exposed that Chris wanted to savor every moment of it while he could. He wondered if, just now, Tanner had any idea of just how truly beautiful he was.

Vin opened his eyes, smiled at Chris, then lowered his hand slowly to his cock, coating it with the salve and not missing the gunman’s sharp intake of breath. When he had himself slicked up, he slid off Larabee’s hips and between his legs, blue eyes darkening again. Never saying a word, but never tearing his gaze from Chris’s, he carefully positioned the man’s legs and slipped beneath him, his breath coming faster as Larabee’s rich, masculine scent engulfed him.

Lord God, it was really happening!

Chris, too, remained silent and willed himself to relax, trusting Vin implicitly. Then the tracker’s hand closed about his cock and he jerked, a sharp gasp ripped from him. Vin stroked him slowly, that hand sliding from root to head and back down again, squeezing and pulling gently. Chris arched his back and knotted his hands in the blankets, closing his eyes tightly and thrusting into those excruciatingly talented fingers. His erection had flagged but Vin easily brought him back up again, and soon had him writhing and moaning in mindless arousal.

Vin stroked Chris’s hard, thick cock slowly, forcing restraint upon himself, not wanting to bring Larabee to climax too soon. In his other hand he grasped Chris’s balls, rolling the heavy sacs between his long, agile fingers, squeezing lightly and feeling them swell. As Chris’s breathing grew faster, more strained, he released his balls and trailed a finger to the dark puckered hole behind them, running the tip slowly around the rim.

Chris gasped sharply as that finger sent frissons of heat radiating through his body, then gave a strangled cry and jerked wildly as it slid into him. Deeper it pressed, playing slowly inside him, and he clenched hard around it. Then it shifted slightly, brushed against something inside him, and he very nearly screamed as intense pleasure exploded within him. Again and again that finger stroked that part of him, until he was nearly sobbing from the incredible sensations flooding his body.

Vin took time and care preparing Chris, ignoring the fierce ache of his own need to make sure Larabee was as ready as he could make him. He followed his first finger with a second, massaging, scissoring, stretching, concentrating on softening the tight ring of muscle. A wrenching gasp escaped him when he finally felt it relax and he withdrew his fingers, then positioned the head of his cock at that opening and pushed slowly inside.

Chris gave a harsh, thick cry as he was penetrated, as a wave of burning, cramping pain assailed him. He bucked against it, but immediately Vin’s strong hands were at his hips, holding him in place, and that soft, hoarse voice was speaking to him.

"Ssh, ’s all right," Vin soothed, watching the lines of pain crease Larabee’s face and struggling to restrain his own powerful, instinctive need to thrust. "Jist breathe and relax. It’ll pass, I promise. Jist relax, and tell me when it’s better."

Chris pressed his head hard into the blankets, certain it would never pass. Within moments, though, his body adjusted to Vin’s presence in it and the pain subsided, replaced by an unfamiliar sense of fullness and an intense awareness of Tanner’s heat and hardness within him.

"Oh, God, move, please!" he croaked.

Vin did, sliding gradually into Chris until he was fully imbedded, holding there a moment and then withdrawing just as slowly until only the head of his cock remained within. Again he pushed in, again he pulled out, repeating the movements and building carefully into a slow, steady rhythm. Yet such restraint was made tortuous by the incredible feel of Larabee’s wet heat closing in about him, engulfing him, drawing him deeper into that welcoming channel. His own heat raged, want and need throbbed along his every nerve, and still he forced himself to go slowly though sweat poured from his naked flesh and his jaws ached from their tight clenching. But the intense pleasure of feeling himself sheathed deep inside Chris was almost more than he could bear.

Lord God in heaven, it was so much better than he’d dreamed!

Chris, too, was overwhelmed by the powerful sensations flooding him. The feel of Vin’s hardness inside him, filling him, was unlike anything he’d ever known, had him gasping and groaning in wordless ecstasy. The slowness of Tanner’s movements was a torment and a delight unto itself, each long, sure stroke wringing from him every drop of pleasure he was capable of feeling.

As their bodies grew more familiar with the dance, they gradually increased their pace, falling naturally into an easy, mutual rhythm. Soon they were moving as one, bodies meeting and joining in perfect unison. Yet the power of it was far more than physical, extended to their very souls, as each man lost himself in the other and found in him what he had been missing for far too long.

Unable now to restrain himself, Vin drove with an unbridled ferocity into Larabee, the feel of the older man writhing and thrusting against him plunging him into a maelstrom of want and need that stripped him of all control and left him at the mercy of raging desire. Uttering a deep, guttural growl, he reached at last for Chris’s cock and wrapped long fingers about it, his hand as hard and ruthless as his demanding flesh.

Chris cried out harshly as Vin drove him into a mounting frenzy, as the tracker launched a shattering assault upon his senses and sent him into paroxysms of unspeakable pleasure. Worked inside and out, filled and claimed and damn near ripped apart at his soul, he thrust frantically down upon that punishing flesh, into that masterful hand, nerves sparking, his flesh all but seared from his bones.

They loved with a primitive, primal force, withholding nothing of themselves, giving everything they were and everything they possessed into the savage fury of their lovemaking. The spiritual union that had been born in a dusty street was now given a physical outlet, and they poured every bit of themselves into it. And in one shattering, convulsive rush they came, bursting together into explosive climax, Vin erupting into Chris’s body, Chris’s seed jetting in a hot stream over Vin’s skin, each emptying himself and drowning in the other, the two becoming as much one as it was humanly possible for them to be.

Vin shuddered convulsively and collapsed onto Chris, utterly spent and shaking. Bodies and limbs entwined, hearts still racing and breathing fast and ragged, they lay like that for some time, saying nothing, needing no words between them. Each felt the other now in the beating of his heart, knew he carried the other in his blood and his bone, and knew that from now on, however far apart they might be, they’d never really be separate again.

Had probably never been separate from the start.

Chris wrapped trembling arms about Vin and cradled him close, treasuring the wondrous intimacy of the moment. He marveled at how right Vin felt against him, at how perfectly he fit into him, and was grateful to have finally found this.

At least some good had come from the whole twisted Mosely mess.

"Kinda makes ya wonder, don’t it?" Vin murmured tiredly, listening contentedly to the strong beating of Chris’s heart.

"What?"

Vin raised his head and gazed into Larabee’s heavy-lidded eyes, his expression deeply thoughtful. "How come we’s allowed ta find what Claire and Chanu wasn’t? I mean," he frowned and cocked his head, "we ain’t so diff’rent, when ya think on it. They was torn apart and Claire died ’cause folks thought what they had wasn’t right, wasn’t natural. An’ they’d think the same ’bout us, if they knew. ’S jist … I don’t know," he said with a shrug. "Jist kinda makes ya think."

Chris folded one arm beneath his head and moved his other hand to brush the tangle of long hair back from Tanner’s face. "We’re not gonna end up like them," he said quietly, knowing that fear had to be lurking somewhere in Vin’s mind after what he’d already experienced. "I’m not gonna end up like Black Wolf. Nobody’s gonna take this away from us, Vin. Nobody’s gonna take this from you."

Vin lay back down, his ear again pressed to Chris’s chest to hear the reassuring beat of his heart. "Seems like that’s the way it always turns out," he breathed. "Don’t know if I could take it again."

"I think we’ve both had our fill of losin’ folks we love," Chris sighed, tenderly stroking Vin’s hair. "Both lived with the fear of it happenin’ again. But maybe it’s time we put that fear aside, time we stopped lettin’ what’s gone before keep us from takin’ a chance on bein’ happy now. Maybe it’s a risk, but I figure this is worth it. We’re worth it."

"Think that’s what Chanu and Claire was doin’?"

Chris thought a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. I think they knew they didn’t have a chance in hell, but I think they also figured that what they had was worth the risk. And I think they’d do it all again if they could."

Vin gave a soft chuff of laughter. "Wouldn’t mind if Chanu skipped that stranglin’ part, though," he quipped.

Instinctively, Chris wrapped his arm tightly around Vin and held the younger man close, remembering again the stark, cold fear of seeing him on the jail floor.

"I’m all right," Vin assured him, understanding that gesture.

"I know," Chris rasped, still holding him close. "It’s just … when I saw you …" He nudged Vin until the tracker lifted his gaze to his. "All I could think of was how close I’d come ta losin’ you. I didn’t even really understand what that meant yet, hadn’t allowed myself ta figure it out. But I still knew that if I lost you, I’d be losin’ some part of me. And I wasn’t sure there was a whole lot left of me ta lose."

Vin rested his chin just above Chris’s heart and reached up, slowly tracing the lines and contours of the man’s face with a forefinger. "There’s more’n ya know," he said softly. "An’ I wanta learn it all."

Chris gave a short laugh. "I been told I’m a hard man ta know."

Vin smiled easily. "I’m a tracker, remember? I’m used ta followin’ hard trails. An’ I reckon you’d be worth th’ effort. ’Sides, y’ain’t nearly as hard ta know as ya think. At least, not ta me."

"Well," Chris said with a smile, "I guess that’s all that really matters." He cupped a hand around Vin’s head and gently urged it back down against his chest, liking the feel of it there. "You gonna be all right when we get back ta town?"

Vin sighed and closed his eyes, unconsciously nestling closer to Larabee. "Reckon so," he murmured. "Worst part of it was Buck and Ezra. Never figgered them t’ turn on me."

"They just didn’t understand–"

"Didn’t exactly try real hard, either," he said in a low, rough voice, still feeling the pain of their doubt. "I know they was both worried about Claire, an’ I know there’s jist somethin’ about Indians that drives folks plumb loco sometimes. But they know me. Or I thought they did. I thought they trusted me. Came as somethin’ of a shock t’ find out I was wrong."

"That’s somethin’ the three of you are gonna have ta work out on your own. But I do know that they learned their lesson, and that they are tryin’ ta make amends."

"Yeah," Vin sighed, "I reckon they are. An’ that’s more’n I can say about most other folks."

Chris raised his head slightly to look at Tanner, a small, worried frown pulling at his mouth. "What about all those others?" he asked quietly. "Just because they were wrong this time doesn’t mean they’re gonna change the way they think–"

Vin snorted derisively. "Hell, I couldn’t care less ’bout what they think! ’Sides, they’ll git over it. Next time one of ’em needs me t’ track down some varmint that’s killin’ or stealin’ their stock, they won’t remember the names they called me when they come askin’ fer help."

"Will you remember?" Chris asked pointedly.

He sighed and turned his face away, knowing what his answer had to be. "I cain’t change how they think, Chris," he said quietly, "and I won’t change how I think. An’ even if I could, they ain’t worth it. But I will learn how ta live among ’em. Might take some time an’ it won’t always be easy, but I’ll do it."

"Why?"

Vin turned back to Chris, then set his chin on the man’s chest and gazed evenly at him. "’Cause yer there, an’ ’cause yer gonna be there. Y’ need them folks, Chris, need ta be doin’ somethin’ useful fer ’em. Y’ain’t as used ta bein’ a stray as I am."

"You’re not a stray, Vin," Chris said firmly, green eyes boring into the tracker’s blue ones. "Not anymore. And not just because of me. You got a place too, y’know. I know it hasn’t seemed like it lately, but you do have folks who care about ya, got folks who’re willin’ ta stand up with ya. Stand up for ya. You just gotta remember that."

Vin smiled weakly. "Ain’t been easy these past few days, but I’ll try."

"See that you do," Chris ordered.

Vin arched a brow, blue eyes gleaming. "Or?"

Chris heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Does everything have ta be a fight with you?"

Vin smiled wickedly and slid up Larabee’s body. "Prob’ly so," he murmured, his breath fanning warmly against the gunman’s cheek. "I been told I’m awful aggravatin’."

Chris shivered as the tracker’s mouth moved slowly along his jawline. Long fingers began brushing skillfully over his body, and he realized that, from here on out, every fight he waged with the man would be a losing one.

"Vin?" he called hoarsely as his blood began to stir.

"Yeah?" he murmured, nuzzling happily at Larabee’s throat.

"You wanta tell me again just how much that bounty’s for?"

THE END