The next morning

Josiah glanced up and smiled as Chris entered the clinic. The blond crossed the room and looked down at the sleeping tracker, then at the preacher. "How's he doin'?"

"Been taking whatever I give him without a single word of complaint. I figure he must be sick… in the head. Never seen him so cooperative."

A small grin lifted the corners of Chris's mouth. "Sure he ain't dead?"

That made Josiah smile. "Very sure."

Chris pulled up a chair and sat down next to the older man. "Nathan said he was being good about the medicine. Can't figure it out, but I don't expect it can last long."

Josiah studied the blond for a moment, then said softly, "You."

Larabee looked at the preacher. "Me? I threatened him, but–"

The preacher shook his head. "He saw the fear in your eyes, heard it in your voice when he first woke up and he knew he was close to death. He's been taking whatever we give him to make sure he doesn't die before he sets things right with you. After that, I'll wager he'll get a little more ornery."

Chris looked away, his cheeks coloring. "He tell you that?"

"Not straight out, but that's what he was sayin'."

The gunslinger thought for a moment and then nodded. He looked at Josiah and said, "He told me yesterday that those two sonsuvbitches were riding with Eli Joe when he killed that farmer. They can clear his name, if we can convince them to talk to the Judge and tell him the truth."

Josiah smiled, but the predatory gleam in his eye robbed the expression of any joviality. "Confession is good for the soul."

Larabee nodded. "For their sakes, I hope so. Buck's headin' up the charge, and Nathan's coming over in a couple of hours to check on Vin; bring him something to eat. I'll sit with him until then. You go get some rest."

"I'm sure brother Vin will be very glad to get something besides broth," Josiah said with a slight grin. Then he stood and stretched, saying, "And I'll be more than happy to visit the blessed arms of slumber for a few hours. But first I have to see a couple of men about a confession." He looked down at Vin, adding, "Sleep well, brother."

And with that he departed, leaving Chris alone with Vin.

The first thing the gunslinger did when they were alone was to reach out and push the lank hair off the tracker's bruised face. Vin frowned slightly, but relaxed again under Chris's tender touch. He turned his face into the contact, which made Larabee's hand tingle. "Just rest easy, pard," he said softly.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Chris was reading when Vin woke later with a soft cough. He set the book aside and picked up a cup of water, helping the tracker as he drank almost all of it.

"Think y' can help me t' sit up?" Vin asked, his voice still rough and dry. "Gettin' damned tired 'a starin' at the ceilin'."

"Sure," Chris said, helping the man to sit up so he could rearrange the pillows to support him.

Vin gasped as the muscles over his ribs pulled against the broken bones, sending fiery shards of pure agony slicing through his middle.

"You all right?" Chris said, holding the tracker still.

Vin nodded, but the color had drained from his face and sweat had broken out on his upper lip. He shifted slightly and whimpered softly, his eyes squeezing closed for a brief moment.

"Easy," Chris soothed and, using one hand to hold the tracker in place, quickly arranged the pillows with the other so Vin could lean back against them. "Let me do the work… I've got you." He carefully eased the man back, trying not to notice the grateful look in the tracker's eyes as he asked, "Better?" once Vin was settled.

Tanner nodded, too winded by the ordeal to speak. He closed his eyes and panted. When he could breathe, the room had stopped spinning, and his stomach didn't feel like it was trying to worm its way up his gullet, he opened his eyes again, only to find Larabee waiting with a cup full of doctored water. He finished all of it and tried not to look ill-tempered when the blond pulled up his blankets for him.

"Need anything else?" Chris asked him.

Vin's cheeks colored and he dipped his head, saying, "No."

Chris grinned. "Yeah, I know it's hell, needing someone to help you, but it's better than sitting there wishin'," he said understandingly. He retrieved the chamber pot, helping Vin as best he could, then fetched the tracker a cup of the medicinal tea Nathan was giving the injured man.

"Y' know what this damned stuff tastes like?" Vin grouched, accepting the cup from Larabee.

"I told you before I didn't care."

Vin sighed softly, unable to do any better with his broken ribs and started sipping on the brew. While he worked on the contents, he watched Larabee from the corner of his eye. There was something supremely humbling about being watched the way the gunman was watching him, something humbling and comforting… and just a little bit frightening.

The tea smelled at least as bad as it tasted, and Chris leaned back in his chair to escape the foul odor. "How're you feelin'?" he asked the injured man.

Vin thought for a moment, then replied, "Reckon I'll live."

Chris smiled thinly. "Glad to hear you and Nathan are in agreement on that."

Vin stared down into his cup and muttered, "'Less this damned horse piss kills me… or I choke t' death on it."

Larabee grinned. "Nathan's bringin' you something a little later."

"I swear, Chris, if it's mush 'm goin' t' crawl out 'a this bed 'n' hunt m'self some real food."

Chris fought hard not to smile as he growled, "You'll eat whatever the hell he gives you and be glad you're here to enjoy it, you hear me?"

Vin cocked his head to the side, meeting Larabee's eyes. He grinned just slightly. "I hate them damned boiled oats, y' know I do."

Chris grinned. "Yeah, I know, but I figure Nathan knows better than you right now what your stomach can take."

Vin sighed. "C'n take a plate 'a eggs 'n' some 'a Inez's biscuits. I know that fer a fact."

"I'll see what I can do," the gunman promised. "Maybe for supper."

Vin grunted petulantly.

"The Judge'll be here day after tomorrow."

The tracker looked up, meeting the gunslinger's eyes. "Them two ain't goin' t' talk, Chris. It'll put their necks in a noose if'n they do."

"There are some things worse than hanging," Larabee told him.

Vin's eyes narrowed slightly.

"You don't need to worry about anything except healin' up."

"Chris–" Vin started to argue, but Larabee held up his hand to stop him.

"Let us help you, damn it."

Vin thought for a moment, then met Larabee's eyes, saying, "Judge ain't goin' t' believe a word if'n they're beat bloody."

He got a grin and a nod from the man in black. "There are other ways to make a man talk."

Vin nodded. "Could tell y' 'bout a couple 'a 'em, if y' need some ideas."

Larabee reined in a smile. "I'll let you know." He took the empty cup from the tracker and asked, "You want some broth, or some tea without the medicine?"

Vin shook his head. "Maybe just some water – plain water."

Chris nodded and fetched a cup for him, then settled back in his chair, his hands clasped between his knees, his head hanging down. "Vin, we've got some things that need saying between us."

"Reckon so," the tracker agreed with a single nod.

"You up to hearin' me out?"

Tanner considered the question for a moment, trying to honestly assess his condition. "I'll try 'n' keep m' eyes open," he said, "but I can't promise I'll be able t' last fer long; sneaks up on me."

"I don't need long," Chris told him and then turned his head to meet the tracker's eyes. "I just want you to know that I was a fool, a damned fool, and it almost cost you your life. Hell, Vin, I'm sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen."

The tracker nodded. "I know that. An' I figure y' had just cause t' be mad at me. Wasn't like I've been pullin' m' share 'round here lately… 'n' I sure as hell didn't out there on that wagon train."

"Sarah always said I was too damned prideful, and she was right. I let it twist my thoughts up. I should've come lookin' for you sooner. You'd been away so much… I wanted to think you were sneakin' off to see her, but I knew that wasn't true… Guess I thought you'd soured on us… on me… Where did you go, Vin?"

The tracker sighed softly. "Out t' the desert, tryin' t' find me a vision."

"A vision?"

Tanner nodded. "Learned it from the Indians – fast fer three days 'n' stay awake… I needed t' understand why I done what I done… why I ran out on y'all… why I ran out on the man I swore I'd ride the river with."

Chris dipped his head, saying softly, "I have to admit, I wondered the same thing out there, but I figured you must've loved her."

"Hell, I don't know," Vin replied, his voice thick, his head down, unable to look at Larabee as he spoke. "Maybe I did, maybe not, too, but when y' said y'd ride with me… I never meant fer that t' change, Chris… not in m' heart."

Larabee nodded. "I know. I knew it even then." He looked up, waited for Vin to do the same, and held the tracker's eyes and asking, "Did you? Find a vision?"

Vin shook his head. "Not 'til I was walkin' back t' town… then I saw her."

"Charlotte?"

"No," Vin said, his voice catching. He fought, trying to stay awake so he could explain, but he quickly was losing the battle.

"Why don't you get some rest," Chris said, reaching out to give the man's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I'll be here. You can tell me when you wake up."

Vin glanced at the man, grateful. Reaching out his hand weakly, he felt Chris grab it in his own and squeeze. "Still want t' ride with y', pard," he said, eyes closing. "If y'll still have me…"

"I'll have you," Chris replied thickly. "Now, get some rest."

"Damned… bossy… cow… boy…"

Larabee grinned, still holding Vin's hand tightly in his own. "Stubborn tracker," he replied, watching sleep take the younger man. His thumb rubbed over the back of Tanner's hand and he looked down, watching as he continued to rub lightly. It felt good to touch the tracker, his warm skin soft under Chris's touch. It had been so long since he'd touched someone who meant anything to him and it ignited a longing in the gunslinger he'd given up on ever feeling again.

But it was also confusing. He wasn't supposed to feel things like this for another man. Love he understood, but not lust, not for a man. He laid Vin's hand down and pulled the covers up to make sure the tracker stayed warm. Then he settled back in his chair and reached for his book, hoping that might distract him from the curious turn his thoughts seemed to have taken.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Chris was still trying to read when Vin woke again a couple of hours later. The first thing he did was give the tracker some more water with the medicinal powder stirred in and while he watched the younger man drink it down, his face pinched in response to the bitter taste, he decided Vin was starting to look better.

Tanner handed the empty cup back, shaking his head. "Damned stuff could kill a buff."

"Or cure a buffalo hunter," Chris countered.

"Never wanted t' hunt buff," Vin said softly, his tone sad. "Army handed me over t' some hunters after they caught me ridin' with the Comanche… Had t' work m' way out 'a their camp… Took me too damned long t' do it, too. They lived with the Jicarilla, so I got t' know their ways some. Only thing that made it bearable."

"You don't talk much about it, about your past, I mean."

Vin shrugged. "Ain't much t' say, 'cept what I need t' tell y' now."

"You sure you're ready for that?" Chris asked, looking for the signs the tracker was fighting sleep and finding none.

"Reckon I've waited long 'nough." Vin took as deep a breath as he dared, and glanced over at the window and the sunlight beyond. "After the war, I headed back t' the only family I really knew."

"The Indians?"

Vin nodded. "But the Kiowa I'd lived with after m' ma died was already rounded up 'n' put on reservations, or killed… Mostly killed… I fell in with the Comanche."

Chris snorted softly and shook his head. "Lucky you didn't end up dead."

"Not lucky," Vin corrected, "I knew some 'a them. They took me in, but I wasn't much more 'n a slave at first. Had t' prove m'self b'fore they'd make me one 'a 'em."

"And, knowing you, you did."

A single nod. "They made me ol' Red Flower's son. She'd lost her boys t' the Army 'n' need a man t' hunt fer her."

"She adopted you?"

"Reckon that's as good a way t' say it as any." Vin fell silent, finding it more difficult to tell Chris the truth than he had imagined.

"What happened?" Larabee asked him softly.

"Red Flower still had a daughter livin' with her, her youngest… She was a year or two older 'n me… Most beautiful thing I'd ev'r seen."

Chris smiled a little, remembering his reaction the first time he had seen Sarah. She had been the most beautiful woman on earth in his mind – still was.

"But seein' as how I's her brother, weren't no way I could court 'n' marry her. But I would've, if I coulda."

"She must've been something special."

Vin nodded. "She was kind 'n' full of life… Her laughter sounded like music."

Larabee nodded, dipping his head. Sarah's laughter had always sounded like music to his ears as well.

"She was bein' courted by 'nother warrior, Black Knife. He was older 'n her – a lot older – but he was respected, and he'd beat the Army a few times so he had some position in the tribe, but he was mean, Chris. Mean down deep in his heart 'n' soul. When they married… She changed." Tanner stopped, scrubbing his hand over his face. "I knew he's beatin' her, but there weren't a damned thing I could do 'bout it. I tried talkin' to Red Flower, and the chief, but the Army was crowdin' in, tryin' t' round the People up 'n' move 'em onto' the reservations, warriors was dyin'… There jus' weren't no time."

"One young girl wasn't that important to them," Chris said when he heard Vin's voice catch.

"Reckon not… She got so she looked so sad 'n' scared… I didn't know what t' do. I's ridin' with one 'a the warrior societies, learnin' how t' track 'n' hunt their way. Took me away from the camp… When I got back, I found her. He'd broke her neck. I'll never ferget those black eyes 'a her's, lookin' up at me, so sad… I took her back t' Red Flower."

Chris sighed sadly. "It wasn't your fault, Vin."

The tracker shook his head. "Maybe, maybe not, but when I saw Charlotte, she had the same kind 'a eyes, Chris. I knew, just lookin' at her, her husband was hurtin' her. I jus'– I jus' wanted t' do fer her what I couldn't do fer– I jus' wanted t' help her, is all. Don't know if I loved her, or the memory of– But what I done was wrong, I know that… 'N' ridin' out on y'all, on you, hell, that was more 'n jus' wrong."

Chris looked at the tracker, understanding making his heart ache for the man. "You did what you had to, Vin, to honor the memory of that girl, nothing wrong with that."

"Runnin' out on y'all was wrong."

"I would've agreed with you, but not now. Hell, if I'd met a woman who reminded me that much of Sarah on that train, don't you think I would've done the same thing? Done anything to protect her?"

"But it weren't you," Vin corrected. "I broke m' word, 'n' that's all a man's got, 'sides his name, 'n' I ain't even got that 'til 'm cleared 'a that murder charge."

"Ain't got it back yet," Chris told him. "You'll be cleared, Vin. I swear it."

"Don't promise what y' can't deliver, pard."

"I won't."

"Still broke m' word."

"Maybe so, but it was for a good reason. And I guess I broke mine too when I didn't come lookin' for you sooner. So what do you say we call it even? We both made mistakes, but it's over now, done."

"I jus' want y' t' know 'm sorry 'bout what I done, 'n' that's why I done it."

"And I was a damned fool not to trust you," Chris said softly. "I damned near got you killed. You sure you still want to ride with me?"

"Reckon so," Vin said, his eyelids starting to droop. "Can't think 'a none better…"

Chris watched the younger man fall back to sleep and reached out, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Neither can I, partner, neither can I."

Then, with a gentle touch, he caressed the man's face, enjoying the feel of his whiskers on his palm. His hand moved back to Vin's shoulder and chest, tenderly touching the miracle that lay before him. One way or another, he was going to build a life with the tracker.

Two days later

The Judge stepped down off the stagecoach and was immediately greeted by his daughter-in-law and his grandson. Chris watched the family exchange hugs as he slipped inside the jail, leaving the other regulators outside.

He walked over to the desk and took out his Colt, setting it on the desktop, and then walked over to the cells and stopped, saying, "Judge is here."

"Ain't that nice fer him," the older of Vin's two attackers snarled.

The younger brother looked ready to throw himself on Travis's mercy, but without Lyman to back him up, the Judge would have to assume the peacekeepers had just frightened Tom into telling him what they wanted him to hear.

Chris met and held Lyman's gaze, saying softly, "I know the others have been in here, telling you stories about what they're going to do to you if you don't tell the Judge the truth about the murder of Jess Kincaid. And I'm guessing you know as well as I do that they won't actually do any of it." Larabee's lips curled back off his teeth in a feral smile. "Me, I'm another matter all together. I'll be honest with you, you tell the Judge the truth, you'll probably hang. You don't tell him, he's going to sentence you to a few years over in Yuma prison. And then he's going to ask me to see to it that you get there."

The gunslinger walked over to Tom's cell, peering in at the man. "You," he snapped, watching the younger man jerk and cower, "you're going to die trying to escape. Shot in the back of the head."

The outlaw sat, huddled in the corner of his cot, trembling. Of all of the men to come in, terrorizing them, this one Tom truly believed. He was a dead man, whether or not he talked.

Chris walked back to Lyman's cell, capturing the big man's gaze again. "But you, running isn't your way."

"Nope," the older man spat, looking defiant.

"Didn't think so. But I'd wager the Judge will believe you tried to help your brother. And he'll believe that you got away from us. Too bad the Apaches are going to find you before we do. See, we've been having trouble with 'em on and off – renegades, mostly, from off the reservation. Locals tell me they have a special way of killin' their enemies, and that's how they're going to find you. You know what that way is?"

"Don't know. Don't care," the man growled, standing and moving up to the bars to stare Larabee down, but the gunslinger was more than a match for the outlaw.

Chris shrugged, then, with his lightning-quick reflexes, reached between the bars and grabbed the outlaw's shirt, jerking him up tight against the bars and hissing, "I think it's only fair to tell you – give you a chance to die quick, at the end of a rope."

"Don't do me no favors, Larabee," Lyman growled, but he was honestly afraid for the first time.

"These renegades, they take their prisoners out and they tie 'em to a tree. Then they cut their bellies open and pull their guts out, nice and slow. They hang 'em up in the branches so the crows'll come and eat 'em. Takes a while for a man to die like that. And the whole time you'll be standin' there, watchin' the birds eat your fuckin' guts while ya bleed t' death."

Chris smiled, the gesture so cold, so predatory, that Lyman knew the man was telling him the truth. He swallowed hard. "Go t' hell," the outlaw managed, but it came out sounding scared, even to his own ears.

"Plan to," the gunslinger replied casually, his smile turning even colder. "But you're gonna get there a whole lot sooner, ya worthless bag of shit." He released the big man and walked back to the desk, sliding his Colt into his holster before he looked back to the two men one last time. "It's your choice, boys."

And then he was gone.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Judge Travis stood at Vin's bedside, looking down at the injured man while Nathan explained everything that had been done to him by the two brothers. The older man shook his head sadly and sighed heavily, glad the young tracker had slept though the list.

"He going to make it?" he asked when Nathan was finally finished.

"Yes, sir, he is."

The Judge nodded. "Can't say the same for the two men responsible for this brutality." He turned and left, his expression set in hard lines of anger. Larabee and the others met him outside the clinic. He glanced from man to man, wondering how they had convinced the Long brothers to confess, but decided he might not want to know. Still, his curiosity demanded he at least ask. "Gentlemen," he greeted them.

"Well, Judge, what's goin' ta happen to them boys?" Buck asked, his hands on his hips, his stance demanding justice for his friend.

"Given that they have confessed to being participants in a murder, which they then blamed on an innocent man, they'll hang, although I would've been hard pressed not to order the same punishment if they hadn't, given what I just saw in there. Is he really going to be all right?" he asked Chris.

Larabee nodded. "Nathan thinks so, and that's good enough for me. What about getting that bounty lifted off Vin's head?"

"I'll wire the law in Tascosa and start things moving. Eventually Mr. Tanner will have to return and see the local or circuit judge in Tascosa, but I think the confessions will be all he needs to clear his name."

The assembled peacekeepers erupted into cheers, JD pounding Buck on the back, Buck punching Chris's shoulder.

The door to the clinic opened and Nathan leaned out, scowling and scolding, "I've got an injured man in here who's tryin' to get some sleep."

"We were just leavin', Nathan," JD assured the healer. "But the Judge just said he can clear Vin's name."

The healer smiled. "Well, that's gonna be some powerful medicine for him, that's fo' sure." He stuck his hand out to the Judge, saying, "Thank you, sir."

"And thank you, Mr. Jackson," Travis said, shaking the healer's hand, "for another amazing demonstration of your skills."

Nathan nodded and dipped his head, a little embarrassed. He disappeared back inside the clinic.

"Gentlemen, I suggest we take this budding celebration to the saloon, for a proper fête," Ezra suggested.

"Thank you anyway, Mr. Standish," the Judge said, "but I'll be dining with my grandson and his mother this evening." He looked to Chris, asking, "Would you care to join us, Mr. Larabee?"

"Thanks anyway, Judge," Chris said, "but I've got some good news to deliver when Vin wakes up; I don't figure he should be kept waiting."

Travis nodded, impressed as he always had been by the loyalty these men had for one another. He looked at the others, asking, "How about you boys?"

The others considered for a moment, and then agreed.

"I'll send Nathan along," Chris said, watching them head down the stairs, the older man asking, "Never had a couple of hardened outlaws like the Long brothers just up and confess to a crime, let alone to murder. Any of you boys want to tell me how you managed it?"

"Well, now, Judge, that's a long story," Buck said, "and I don't think it's one we ought to be tellin' you over the dinner table."

Travis laughed. "That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea," Ezra replied, their voices fading.

Chris shook his head. He turned and went inside the clinic. "The Judge is buyin' dinner for everyone. Why don't you go on and join 'em? I'll sit with Vin."

"You sure?" Nathan asked him.

Larabee nodded, taking a seat in the bedside chair and reaching for his book.

"I'll bring you back something," Nathan promised. "Vin, too."

"Long as it ain't mush," Chris said with a grin.

Nathan chuckled as he grabbed his coat and ducked out the door.

Chris watched the door close, pausing before he opened his book. He looked down at the sleeping tracker, allowing himself a small smile. "It's over, Vin. It's almost over." Then he leaned over and lightly kissed the sleeping man's forehead. The now familiar tingle tickled his lips. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do about his feelings for the tracker, but he was going to find a way to explore them. He had to, or he'd go mad.

A week later

Vin endured while the peacekeepers fussed over him, getting him ready for the wagon trip. Nathan was still keeping him off his feet, which hurt if his legs weren't straight out in front of him, or elevated a little. They were taking him north to Colorado, at his request, and he was glad to finally be escaping the clinic, even if he had to put up with their mother-henning him. He was damned tired of staring at the same four walls.

So, after a wagon trip to Tucson, Vin, Chris and Nathan caught a train heading north. They arrived in southern Colorado a day later and took a hotel room close to one of the many healing springs that dotted the area. Nathan spoke to the local doctor, since he planned to head back to Four Corners the following day, telling him about Vin and getting the man's promise that he would drop in to check on the tracker every couple of days.

Chris, however, was staying with Vin until he was well enough to return home.

"Ya be sure to see Dr. Tippit," Nathan told the tracker.

"'M fine," Vin assured the healer as Jackson packed to go home.

"Ya be sure to take it easy, too, y'hear me?"

The tracker nodded, his blue eyes locking on the healer's. "Thanks, Nate."

Jackson grinned. "Yo'r welcome. I'll see ya both in a couple of weeks."

Chris walked the healer to the door, and thanked him as well.

"Make sure he soaks every day, and eats regular," Nathan instructed.

"I will," Chris promised him.

And then Nathan was gone and the two men were alone in their hotel room. Chris turned to the tracker, asking, "So, what do you want first, a soak or to get something to eat?"

"Soak," Vin replied.

"Soak it is," Larabee replied.

That night

After a time in the mineral hot springs, Chris took Vin back to the hotel using the same wheeled chair JD had used after he'd been shot. Once he got the man back into bed, he handed him his Mare's Leg and headed out to get them some supper. It only took him a few minutes, but when he returned, he found Vin sound asleep.

He set their meals up on the small table in the room, then walked over and moved the wheeled chair closer to the bed before he called softly, "Vin?"

The tracker came awake immediately, the Mare's Leg coming up in his hands.

"Easy, pard," Chris said soothingly, "just me."

The Mare's Leg was immediately lowered and Vin blinked to clear his sleep-blurred vision.

"Supper's on the table," Chris told him. "Let's get you into the chair and I'll wheel you over."

The tracker grumbled, but he let Chris help him into the chair and push him over to the table, positioning him so he could eat. His legs were extended straight out in front of him, forcing Chris to sit almost beside him.

The meal passed in silence as the two men enjoyed the tasty fare. Then, when they were finished, Chris collected the dishes and took them back to the café. The owner, a handsome widow in her forties, sent back some coffee and pie with him.

After he and Vin finished the pie and coffee, Chris helped the tracker get ready for bed, then settled him in and covered his legs.

"How you feeling?" he asked the man.

"Better," Vin replied. "Hope the springs'll heal up m' feet in a few days. Think I c'n walk on 'em now."

"Probably could, but it'd hurt like hell," Chris added. "You just stay off 'em 'til the doctor tells you otherwise."

Vin sighed heavily. "Ah hell, Larabee, y' can't 'pect me t' jus' lay here ferever."

"It's not forever, it's just until the doctor tells you otherwise."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

That night Chris lay in his bed, trying to ignore his aching erection – a product of knowing Vin was so close, and still out of reach. He fought back a groan, knowing he was going to have to talk to Vin, and soon. If he told Tanner, maybe he could get a handle on his feelings, take back some kind of control over his body.

He fell asleep, thinking about how he could broach the subject, and what Vin might say. His dreams were a fearful mix of rejection and passionate loving.

A few days later

Vin sat up in the bed and swung his legs over the side, letting them dangle just above the hardwood floor of the hotel room. He winced slightly as the blood pounded into the still-healing flesh, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been the last time he'd tried this.

"Well?" Dr. Tippit asked him, watching the tracker's expression carefully.

"Hurts some," Vin admitted, "but not like before."

The physician smiled. "Your Mr. Jackson did an amazing job. I think you should be back on your feet in a few more days, but just for a short time each day, until the pain is gone."

"Jus' be glad when I c'n walk t' the privy," Vin sighed.

Dr. Tippit chuckled softly. "Well, it won't be too much longer." And with that he turned and headed for the door. "I saw Mr. Larabee at the café, he'll have breakfast delivered before long, and it's time I broke my fast as well, so good day, Mr. Tanner. Rest well."

"Thanks, Doc."

"I'll drop by in a couple of days and we'll see if we can't get you back on your feet," the physician promised.

Vin watched the man leave, hoping Chris wouldn't be too long. He was hungry, and he missed the man's company.

Two days later

Vin tentatively put some weight on his feet, which throbbed, but not so badly that he wanted to stop. Then, he sucked in a breath and stood up from the edge of the bed. Pain shot through his feet and he gasped slightly.

"Hurt?" Dr. Tippit asked him, frowning.

Tanner nodded, but added, "Some, but it ain't too bad."

"Try taking a few steps," the physician instructed him.

Vin took another breath, held it, and took a tentative step, then another, and another. He let the breath out with a puff and grinned. "Ain't bad at all."

Across the room, Chris watched the experiment, a mix of concern and excitement on his face. It was clear there was still some pain, but not enough to stop the tracker from making a careful trip around the room.

"Well now, that looks good," the doctor said. "Just a little while on your feet today, a little more tomorrow. When you can stay on your feet for a few hours at a time, without any pain, then I'd say you're ready to go home."

"C'n I take a ride?" Vin asked Tippit.

"I don't see why not – if it's not too painful."

When the physician was gone, Vin turned to Chris and said, "Got a place I want t' show ya, if y' want t' take a ride."

Chris nodded. This was it, his chance to talk to Vin when they were alone. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever was to come.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Vin led the way into the foothills, the quiet wilderness a welcome reprieve from the days spent in town. They rode for a couple of hours, their saddlebags packed so they could spend a night or two in the wilderness.

And the spot was well worth the ride. It was beautiful hot spring, nestled at the end of a small box canyon, secluded and pristine. Chris set up a camp for them while Vin rested, then caught them some dinner. With the rabbits spitted over a small fire, the two men stripped off their clothes and slid into the hot water of the springs.

Chris watched the tracker come up out of the water, dripping wet, beside him, his grin melting the gunslinger's heart. How could he risk their friendship by telling Vin how he felt?

How could he not?

Vin moved beside him and Larabee felt his cock begin to swell as much as the heated water would allow and he hoped it wouldn't be too obvious. He dipped his head, feeling his face go red.

"Somethin' on yer mind?' Vin asked him.

His head came up and Chris met the tracker's expressive blue eyes, knowing his attraction would be obvious and, to his total astonishment, he felt Vin's hand brush his cock under the water, then return to get a better feel before sliding away.

Chris gasped, his head arching back, his eyes sliding closed at the exquisite pleasure that rippled through his groin with the touch.

Vin, his face flushed as well, turned and climbed out of the water, sweetly embarrassed by his own boldness.

Chris got a good look at the tracker's backside as he splashed out of the springs, water dripping from two mounds that pumped and glistened wetly as he grabbed up his clothes, but he was still naked when he bounded into the trees, calling, "Catch me if y' c'n, Cowboy!"

What else could he do? Chris followed, scooping his own clothes into his arms before trailing after Vin. Moments later, he was deep in the forest, the quiet surrounding him like a muffling veil. He caught sight of the slim, naked body trotting ahead, looking a little sore-footed, and followed, his cock hard and bouncing in the air in front of him. Vin was following a deer trail, or maybe some old Indian path a casual observer's gaze would have overlooked.

Chris finally caught up to him in a clearing a few minutes into the chase. He halted at the edge, gawking at the vision in front of him. Vin was climbing an old ladder leaning against the side of an abandoned barn. He inhaled sharply, awed by the slight of the tracker's lean body, entirely naked, ascending those old wooden rungs with the graceful fluidity of a mountain cat.

He hurried forward, peering upward into the dappled light. God, Chris thought, the man was beautiful. His cock twitched, and the gunslinger shivered in anticipation. Did Vin know what he wanted?

"Damn, Larabee, what's takin' y' so long?" Vin called down as he disappeared into the opening into the loft.

Chris climbed up and, once he reached the top, peered inside, trying to penetrate the deep shadows with his sun-dazzled gaze. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a vision as exciting as anything he'd ever beheld. Vin had tossed his clothes down on an old pile of hay and was sprawled on them, spread-eagled and waiting.

"Reckon we ought t' talk 'bout that," he drawled softly, nodding at Larabee's erection as the man climbed in.

Chris blushed and looked away, ashamed. "I–" He stopped, not at all sure what to say. He had rehearsed this moment a hundred times by now, but he couldn't remember a single word. So he took a deep breath, tossed his clothes down next to Vin and then lay down next to him, both men staring up at the ceiling.

"Can't explain it," Chris said softly. "Guess it started out on that wagon train, but I didn't want to face it. And then, when we found you out in the desert and I thought you were dead. . ." He paused for a moment and Vin made no effort to reply, knowing Larabee wasn't finished yet. When he found his courage, he continued. "Seeing you like that, knowing it was my fault… it made my heart hurt so much I thought I might die of it."

"Wasn't yer fault," Vin told him quietly.

"Yes, it was."

"We both made some bad choices, that's all. Y' said so yerself."

"Mine could've gotten you killed."

"Reckon mine weren't much better. If we hadn't overheard O'Shay's plans, you 'n' the others might've got killed."

Chris digested that, accepting it. Tanner was right. They had both made mistakes, bad ones. "Holding you out in the desert… before that, even… the feelings I had… it was like it was when I'd first met Sarah. I knew I had feelings for you… I wanted– I wanted to be with you."

"Y' wanted t' lie with me? Like y' would with a woman?"

Chris's cheeks turned a deep crimson. "Yeah… Still do."

Silence fell between the two men, Vin pondering the revelation, Chris knew. And, several minutes later, the tracker said, "When I's livin' with the Kiowa, I saw some things y' don't see 'mong white folks." He paused there, collecting his thoughts, and then continued. "Guess I's dyin' after what they done t' me, but I heard yer voice 'n' I knew I had t' find ya."

"And you did. You told me about your sister."

Vin nodded. "Don't reckon I'd've fought so hard if I didn't have feelings fer ya."

Chris grinned. "But what kind of feelings?" he asked him. "Feelings like mine?"

"Like I said, I've seen things 'mong the Indians y' don't see in the white man's world…" He rolled over onto his belly and looked at Chris, blue eyes nearly invisible in the shadowy light. "Do what y' want t' me," he invited, his voice a husky whisper.

Larabee swallowed hard. "Vin," he cautioned, "you don't know what you're saying."

"Hell I don't," he replied. "Y' think yer the only one here with an achin' prod?"

Chris started at the comment. He hadn't even thought to look, too caught up in the confusion that made his chest hurt. He wasn't at all sure he should take Tanner up on his offer, but he couldn't stop himself either.

He moved before the fear froze him where he lay, crouching between Vin's parted thighs. He reached out and touched the man's back, long healed now. "You, uh…?" he started.

"Nope, never have, but I seen it done a few times. Never met anyone who caught m' fancy… 'til I met you, but I never thought you'd be interested in lovin' Indian ways."

As Vin spoke, Chris's hands moved over Tanner's back and shoulders, enjoying the feeling of the man's muscles under his hands. The various scars that crisscrossed the tracker's skin made Larabee's heart ache, and not just for what the Long brother's had done to him, but for all of the pain and suffering he had endured throughout his life.

Vin sighed softly, enjoying the gentle touch that explored his skin. Then he felt a soft kiss on his shoulder and trembled with desire.

"We should go back to the camp. The rabbits," Chris said.

Tanner nodded. "'M hungry," he admitted, knowing they would pick up where they were leaving off.

"We could come back here. If you want to," Chris told him, reluctantly moving away.

Vin rolled back over onto his back, grinning playfully. "Reckon we could."

They dressed and walked back to their camp, finding the rabbits almost cooked. Chris set some coffee close to the fire, then pulled out a chunk of bread the café owner had packed for him, along with two apples. He handed Vin half of the bread, and one of the apples, and they ate that, waiting for the rabbits to finish.

"What was it like?" Chris asked him as he handed over one of the cooked rabbits.

Vin knew what he meant. "Looked 'bout the same as Buck courtin' one 'a his lady-friends."

Chris grinned, his eyes on his rabbit. "I don't understand it. Ain't natural."

"Ain't nothing t' understand," Vin replied. "Jus' is."

"And you want that?" Larabee asked cautiously. "You feel the same way I do?"

"Reckon I do."

Chris felt his heart begin to beat faster. "You better soak your feet again after we eat. That little run through the woods couldn't have been good for them."

Vin smiled a little as he replied, "Didn't hurt 'em none. But I c'n do that."

Chris looked up, catching the tracker's gaze. There was a hunger there that both frightened and excited him like nothing he had ever seen before and he felt himself stir once more. He dipped his head and concentrated on his dinner.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

When they had finished eating, Vin stood and walked over to the hot springs. He took off his moccasins, rolled up his pant legs and let his feet soak in the hot water. It felt good and he flopped back onto the ground, his eyes closed. In his mind he could feel Larabee's hands moving over his skin again. It was a wonderful feeling.

After Chris put out the fire, he walked over and sat down beside the tracker and, reaching out, lightly rubbed his hand over Tanner's chest, feeling his nipples go hard under the material of his shirt.

Larabee waited for several minutes before he said, "Think I'll take another dip."

"Mmm," Vin replied, but he didn't move or open his eyes.

Chris stood and undressed again, then slipped into the water. When he surfaced, pushing his hair off of his face, he saw Vin undressing to join him.

They soaked in the hot waters for a while, letting the mineral-laden water work the tension out of their muscles. Then, with an unspoken agreement, they climbed out. Chris pulled on his boots, Vin his moccasins. Then they each picked up their clothes and bedrolls and headed for the old barn. Vin also carried his saddlebags slung over his shoulder.

At the barn, they climbed back to the loft, opening their bedrolls and tossing their clothes into piles.

Vin laid down on his belly again. He glanced over his shoulder, blue eyes meeting green in what Larabee knew was an invitation.

He rolled out his bed alongside Vin's and lay down so he could reach out and run his hand over Tanner's back. He inched closer, kissing shoulder blade and spine, one hand reaching down to caress a taut cheek and squeeze, making the tracker sigh softly.

Chris sat up, his fingers kneading into both cheeks, which made Tanner groan softly with pleasure. The gunslinger glanced down, finding the wrinkled slot he had exposed. It looked very tight.

"Y' goin' t' try what yer thinkin', y' best grab m' saddlebags first," Vin told him.

Chris blushed and frowned, but leaned over the tracker and grabbed them.

"Look inside," Tanner instructed. "There's a small box wrapped up in a piece 'a buckskin."

Chris found it. He took it out and opened it, asking, "What is it?"

"Some oil I got from Ming," Vin said. "He said it'd help heal up them burns I got, but I reckon it'll help y' fit. Indians used bear grease."

"Bear grease?" Chris asked with a soft chuckle as he poured a little of the oil onto his fingers, then reached into the tracker's crack, sliding along the silky surface until he connected with the small pucker, which quivered, snapped and shuddered as he teased it with light strokes.

"They thought it made 'em more potent, gave 'em the power of the bear," Vin explained, then let out a long sigh and raised his butt to meet the probing fingers.

Tanner's gasps encouraged Chris's testing fingers and he poked one fingertip into the crinkled opening, working it open. He reveled in the way Vin responded, shoving his hips toward him in an obvious appeal for more.

He pressed his finger farther into the quivering hole. It was tight, silky, and blistering hot. Chris felt scorched by the throbbing little slot that enveloped his poking finger and it stole his breath away. It was so easy to imagine his cock sliding into that heat and he sighed in an echo of Vin's own.

"Feels good," the tracker grunted, his butt pressing up a little higher. "Poke me with yer finger."

"I have another idea," Larabee said. He kept his finger buried, working it around a bit while he slid his other hand under Vin's belly. He found the tracker's stiff cock there and Tanner groaned when he wrapped his fingers around it, pumping it a few times while he kept probing with his finger.

"Mmm," Vin groaned, "feels good… s' good."

Chris didn't want to hurt Vin, so he released his cock so he could pour a little more of the oil into his crack. It was slick, and ran down the tracker's ass cleft to pool at the pucker where his finger was still firmly planted. He immediately slid his finger out and then back in. Tanner rewarded him with a deep sigh, obviously enjoying the ministrations.

He looked up, catching the intense blue eyes on him and on his hands. He shoved deeper, the additional oil easing the entrance.

Vin closed his eyes, groaned, and thrust his ass higher. The little slot snapped around the probing finger so tightly, Chris wondered how the hell he was going to get his cock in there.

He worked his finger in and out of the tight opening as he gazed down at Tanner. Dappled with shadows and sunlight, his body was incredible and it excited him every bit as much as Sarah's had. Dusty tan, Tanner's body was lean and muscular. His waist was slim, his hips gracefully grinding. His thighs were nicely muscled and covered by light-blond down; his ball sac hung between his parted thighs. The sac was also covered with silky, almost invisible down. His handsome face stared back over his shoulder with a yearning expression that made Larabee's cock twitch in anticipation.

Beginning to work him more vigorously with his finger, Chris added more oil until he was sliding quickly in and out. Vin's hole responded slowly but eagerly, opening up slightly. It was enough to embolden Chris to press a second finger against the taut entrance.

"Easy now," he warned Vin.

"'M ready," Tanner replied, his ass writhing against Chris's hands. He wanted all Larabee had to give him.

Chris pushed and the spongy entrance resisted for a moment, but the oil and Vin's excitement were enough to allow him to drive inward. The tracker whimpered and his ass cheeks jiggled enticingly as Chris slipped two fingers past his sphincter and into the heated depths beyond.

"Try to relax," Chris told him.

Vin shoved his thighs wider apart and buried his head in his hands. That helped. Chris took his other hand and used it to spread his crack and hole apart. That too helped. Then he began to work his fingers deeper still, twisting and poking, pulling out and shoving in. Vin's steady groans, his quivering ass cheeks, and his writhing hips told Larabee how much he was enjoying it.

The gunslinger moved his free hand around Tanner's waist and under his belly again, finding his cock and squeezing it. That had the tracker gasping in just a few seconds.

Chris fucked the tight hole with the fingers of one hand while he pumped Vin's stiff cock with the other. Within moments, Tanner was a moaning mass of heated flesh between Larabee's hands and Chris knew he could make him come there and then. But they both wanted more. They both needed more.

He pulled his fingers out and gazed down at Vin's spongy, quivering, oozing hole. He poured more oil from the bottle over it and set to work.

Releasing the tracker's throbbing cock, Chris scooted up between Vin's thighs and, while the tracker waited expectantly with his head in his arms, Chris pressed his cock, so full it was almost purple, against that winking slot. The sight of his lance poised against that vulnerable hole almost gave him second thoughts. How could he possibly fit?

"Chris," Vin moaned, waving his ass in the air.

His doubts vanished in the wave of desire that surged though him. He stared down at the tentative connection and marveled again as the shadow light played across their bodies, both sweaty now. He poured some of the oil into his hand rubbed it over the aching length of his cock, then along the length of Tanner's crack. The tracker's pouting hole trembled and twitched with eagerness. As slick as he could make them, he aimed the mushroom head of his cock at the entrance of the hot hole and pressed it there.

"Relax, just let it slide in," he said soothingly as he started to press forward.

Vin was trembling all over and Chris ran his hands tenderly over the tracker's back and butt as he pressed harder and harder against the slick crack. Tanner finally started shaking so hard Chris had to grip the tracker's hips to hold him still. Suddenly, he felt the rim give way, and he was sinking into the hole.

"Oh God," Larabee gasped, suddenly shivering nearly as much as Vin was.

Tanner turned his head and held Chris in a gaze that took the gunslinger's breath away. His blue eyes were liquid, full of emotion. His sweet mouth opened lusciously as he licked his sweaty lips. He gasped as he felt the flared head of Chris's cock opening him up, penetrating him.

Chris thrust forward with his hips, just enough to get the head past the rim and into the hot, tight channel beyond. "Oh shit," he hissed. It felt like his cock head had been swaddled in hot, wet silk. Vin's ass quivered, pulsed and throbbed, stripping thoughts away. With a groan, he pressed in deeper.

"Oh Chris," Vin gasped. "Fill me up, Cowboy," he begged as he raised himself up to his knees and shoved his ass back to swallow more of Larabee than the gunslinger had already offered.

Unable to stop himself, Chris lunged forward at the same time, impaling Vin to the root in a single stroke.

"Chris!" Tanner shouted, his voice echoing in the rafters.

Larabee's cock completely enveloped, the gunslinger was reveling in the collection of sensations that assailed him, including the press of soft flesh against his thighs, and Vin's ass, pressed hard against his balls.

Tanner dropped his head and squirmed beneath him. It was obvious he wanted Chris to take him, so he did. Larabee began thrusting in and out, slowly but forcefully. Every prod elicited a little whimper from the tracker, a sound that was just like music to his ears.

Chris closed his eyes, lost in the pleasure of Vin's still-tight hole, which felt like a vise around his cock. But the oil allowed him to slide in and out. He began to stroke him a little faster and the intensity of Tanner's moans increased.

He opened his eyes and looked down, watching himself disappear into the molten passage. His hands, which had been on Vin's back and ass, moved beneath the tracker, this time exploring the lean chest, covered with a light coat of hair. When his fingers grazed the tracker's nipples, Vin whimpered and shuddered from head to toe. Larabee teased them more with light pinches and tugs.

Instantly, Tanner became a mass of whimpering lust beneath him and the tracker returned every thrust of Chris's cock with a perfectly matched pump of his ass.

They went on like that for a long time. Tanner moaning and whimpering so much, his body was shuddering so much, Chris didn't realize that the tracker had already come once, not until his hand dropped from nipple to cock and he found it still hard, but covered with sticky seed. Vin, however, continued to thrust backward to meet the gunslinger's pounding cock with hearty, grunting enthusiasm.

Chris returned his attention to Vin's nipples and worked them both hard while he leaned into the tracker and drilled his ass. It had loosened up considerably by then and he finally allowed himself to let go, ramming into him as hard and as fast as he could. Vin kept pace with him, too, urging him to "take me hard," although his drawling voice was no more than a rasping moan by then.

Chris felt his balls begin to roil, and it seemed like his cock was on fire. Vin's pulsing hole wrung his shaft mercilessly. Sweat flowed from his forehead, and the gunslinger bellowed as he began to shoot his load, Vin writhing wildly under him as the tracker came a second time, his asshole snapping and convulsing, the muscles across his back tensing and arching.

They rode the wild abandon out together.

Finally, Chris fell on top of Vin and the tracker dropped to the hay in a sweaty heap beneath him.

They rolled around and faced each other. Tanner laid his head on Chris's shoulder, then turned his face to the gunslinger's. He gave Chris a tentative kiss on the lips, and Larabee responded, opening wide and shoving his tongue deep into the warm mouth. Vin gurgled and thrust his body against Chris's.

The gunslinger chuckled softly and pulled back a little. "You ain't ready for that yet."

"Mmm," Vin replied, relaxing against Chris once again. "Ain't never felt nothin' like that in m' life."

"I have," Chris said softly.

"Yer wife?" Vin asked him, his voice going shaky with emotion.

Larabee nodded. "In my heart… How I feel about you, how I felt about Sarah, they're the same."

Vin trembled. "Can't be," he replied softly. "She gave y' yer son… can't be nothin' more special 'n that."

Chris smiled sadly. "It was special, more special than I could ever say, but that doesn't change how I feel about you."

Vin pressed closer, holding Chris tightly. "Thought I'd lost y' fer sure when I ran off with Charlotte."

"Did you lay with her?" Chris asked him.

"No. I knew she weren't sure, even if she said she was. And when I come back… I knew she wouldn't be able t' leave her husband again."

"I think he'll be better to her now," Chris said. "Grief can change a man for the better, although it's not always for the better, look at me."

"Never felt 'bout no one like I do 'bout you."

Chris shivered, he knew that he was opening himself to the same pain he'd felt when Sarah and Adam had died, but he had no choice. He cared too much for Vin not to. "I'm just so damned sorry my damn pride got you hurt," he said thickly.

"That's long past," Vin said.

Larabee knew they had both agreed that they'd each made mistakes, and that it was over, forgotten, but he also knew he'd spend the rest of his life trying to make up for almost getting Vin killed. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, letting himself drift into the contentment that was enveloping him. And, on his closed eyelids, the images of Vin's brutalized body slowly faded, replaced by the expression of love he'd seen on the man's face, and the desire he'd seen in his eyes. At long last, he fell asleep, knowing he was holding the other half of his soul in his arms. And he was never, never letting go again.

END

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Author's Note: This story first appeared in the Mag 7 zine, Seven Card Stud #3, published by Neon RainBow Press, Cinda Gillilan and Jody Norman, editors. It also includes part of the gen story "This Side of the Grave" (from Let's Ride #3) written by Patricia Grace. In fact, it picks up about two-thirds of the way into Pat's story, so if you want to see what happened before, check it out at http://malarkey7.tripod.com/thissideofgrave.htm! It has been edited and some slashy bits added in, and then picks up at the end of Pat's story and continues into a slash relationship between Chris and Vin. It is set post-"Wagon Train." Thanks to Pat for letting me "borrow" her story as the basis for Chris and Vin's relationship; it just called out to me to do it!

When we all decided to post the stories that have appeared in the issues of Seven Card Stud that are more than two years old, we opted to use a generic pen name because, while Patricia Grace and Lorin Zane are the primary authors of this story, they had so much help from the other folks writing for the press that it just made sense to consider the story to be written by the Neon RainBow Press Collective! Resistance was futile. So, thanks to the whole Neon Gang – Sierra Chaves, Dana Ely, Michelle Fortado, Patricia Grace, Erica Michaels, Nina Talbot, Kacey Tucker, and Lorin and Mary Fallon Zane. Story lasted edited 7-13-2005. The art is by Shiloh