Twofold

ONE

The scenery flashed by at a pace that was amazing to the small boy sitting with his nosed pressed against the window of the railroad car. Seven year old Ezra Standish watched as pastures filled with cattle and horses seemed to fly by as the train raced through the countryside carrying him away from the hell that his life had become and closer to his new future. It took him towards the one that had been missing, the one for whom he had been unconsciously searching for most of his young life. Ezra liked to think he was not so much running away from his stepmother and her plans for him as running to his real family. Excitement and fear wrestled with each other in his young mind as he once more remembered the day preceding his hasty trip and the astonishing secret that had led him to discard his plans to make his way north by stagecoach, and buy the train ticket instead.

The day had started out like any other day. Ezra had awakened as the rays of the mid morning sun made the large suite unbearably hot. Ezra couldn't understand why his stepmother, Maude, had felt the need to drag them both from the comforts of San Francisco to this dusty, one-horse town on the Colorado border in the height of summer, but after the stinging slap she had given him after he had questioned her about it Ezra had decided that it was one of those times when being seen and not heard was to his advantage. He had known he would have resort to other means to find out what she was up to. He had learned early that his best weapon in dealing with Maude was information. If he had some idea of her plans he could make preparations of his own, and occasionally throw a surreptitious monkey wrench in any plans she had that might lead to harm for him

Although to the average person Maude seemed the epitome of ladylike behavior, Ezra had lived with her long enough to know that her gentle, southern belle façade was just superficial veneer. She could make most people think she as a totally helpless, defenseless woman in desperate need of their help, but he had learned the truth about her early in his young life. Maude was quite capable of defending herself when she needed . . . and in serving out corporal punishment when her stepson displeased her. In the six months since his father had been killed Ezra had become even more familiar with just how sharp her tongue could be and how swiftly her fist could fly.

Nothing he did these days was good enough for the woman, and he always managed to get blamed for every bit of bad luck the two of them ran into. Ezra was smart enough to know that he wasn't to blame and he was being treated unfairly, but knew there was not a lot he could do about the situation since he was only seven years old. His options were limited, very limited in fact. He could run away or he could . . . run away. As intelligent as he was, he couldn't see any other way to escape the experienced confidence woman without making his own situation worse. There was no way he wanted to wind up in an orphanage.

It had taken two weeks for Ezra to finally reach his decision to run and begin to squirrel away enough money to make his escape. For months, Ezra had been skimming from his poker winnings. Although he was close to reaching his goal, he had not been ready to make his break for freedom. He wanted to leave with enough money to last him for several months knowing he would have to lie low if he wanted to remain hidden from the woman. He knew a poker playing child was sure to bring the kind of unwanted attention that could help her pick up his trail once he left. He was determined to escape her completely and that meant no cards and no means of replenishing his finances should he run low on money. Ezra had believed he had time to increase his grubstake enough to carry him over for several months . . . until he accidentally overheard what she had planned for him. He shuddered at the memory.

He knew Maude considered him to be expendable. He knew because she constantly reminded him. When she was angry at him she would sometimes smile prettily and tauntingly sing the little ditty that he detested so much.

"E is for Ezra, what a stupid little boy. E is for Expendable, like a broken toy! E is for Ezra, the expendable stupid boy."

He knew if she hadn't found him useful she would have abandoned him right after his father's death. She had drug him to this dusty hellhole of a town now because she had found a use for him in her newest scam. Ezra was supposed to be watching their latest mark. It had been his job for the last two weeks to follow the wealthy banker around and find out his habits . . . and his secrets. Maude always used him to scope out their victims because he blended in better. Most adults don't pay much attention to the children around them as long as the children did nothing to call attention to themselves. Ezra's late father had taken to calling him a natural chameleon for his ability to fade into the background and remain unnoticed. Ezra knew it was this talent more than anything that gave him any kind of value in Maude's eyes

Ezra had done his job well, and was already quite familiar with the banker's routine, so when the man slipped inside the backdoor of The Red Slipper, he knew the mark would not be leaving the bordello for at least two hours. The hot sun shining on him made him incredibly thirsty and Ezra decided there was no need for him to remain on watch when he knew his quarry would not be setting foot on the street for sometime. He saw no harm in taking himself back to the hotel for a rest and possibly a meal. He could return in plenty of time to continue his assignment.

Ezra knew Maude would not approve of his actions, so he was especially careful to sneak into the hotel. Ezra quietly made his way into his room and had just poured himself a glass of water when he heard Maude's voice coming from beyond the closed door that connected the two rooms. He froze in panic for a moment, frightened that she would throw open the door and berate him for being derelict in the duty she had assigned him. He silently sighed with relief when he heard a male voice speaking. Ezra quickly drank his glass of water and gently placed it back on the table, being extra careful not to let the glass clink when he set it down. He tiptoed to the connecting door and placed his ear against it to listen to the two adults talking.

Ezra began breathing through his mouth like his father had taught him to make sure the sound of his breathing would not betray his presence as he pressed his ear harder against the door and was able to hear the conversation clearly.

"You better not be lying to me woman," the man's voice growled, "He better be everything you say he, or I'll make you wish you'd never heard of me."

"I can assure you, sir, that every word I've spoken is the absolute truth. He will make you a fortune. He has the most innocent face, and emerald green eyes. I assure you your special customers will be quite pleased," Maude purred in response.

"How old did you say he was?" Ezra heard the man ask.

"He's seven, but somewhat small for his age. You might even be able to pass him off as five if you dress him right," Maude assured him.

Ezra felt his stomach clench in fear and he had to swallow against the sudden nausea. They were discussing him! He wasn't sure what they were talking about, but his instincts made him sure that he didn't want anything to do with what Maude and this rough sounding man had in mind for him. Ezra decided it was time to put his plan to run into action. He would have to take the money he had and hope last until Maude stopped looking for him.

Maude's voice caught his attention once again as she said, "I have a picture of him with his father if you'd like to see what you're buying."

Ezra could hear the snort the man gave and then the voice said, "I sure ain't buying no pig in a poke. I ain't that much of a fool."

"Of course," Maude cooed, " I'm sure a businessman of your stature would never . . . ."

"Save it for the paying customers, lady," the man growled. "It don't work on me."

Ezra could hear the rustling sounds of Maude's petticoats as she crossed the room and the scrape of a drawer being opened.

"There, you see," Maude's voice rose in triumph, "exactly as promised."

Ezra stood straining to hear but there was only silence.

"I guess he'll do," the man stated grudgingly.

"I'm sure he'll do very well indeed," Maude assured him. Ezra could imagine the self satisfied smile that he knew she would be wearing.

"Where is he?"

"I sent him on an errand. He should be returning at about seven o'clock this evening. He is getting some information for me. You may have him after he has made his report," Maude stated, her honeyed tone giving way to a more businesslike voice. "I must insist on half the money now, and the rest on delivery."

"Agreed. If you come with me to the bank you'll get your money."

"Nothing would give me more pleasure, I assure you," Maude drawled airily. Ezra heard the footsteps of the two adults as they exited the room and made their way down the hallway to the staircase.

Ezra slowly straightened. He cautiously turned the doorknob and entered Maude's room. If he was going to have to make his escape before he was ready, he would see if he could find any thing in his stepmother's room that might aid him in his bid for freedom. With this one thought in mind, he started carefully rummaging through the dresser drawers and the closet. Ezra felt like he had hit the mother lode when he found the satchel that he knew had a false lid.

Carefully prying up the false top, Ezra stuffed the bundles of bills he found into his jacket pocket, and reached for the jewelry when he stopped. Jewelry was too recognizable. Ezra had learned this lesson at his father's knee. If he tried to sell it, it would be like leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for his stepmother to follow. Cash was better since it would be almost untraceable. . Ezra carefully replaced the lid and returned the satchel to its previous resting place.

Ezra continued his search of the room and found no more money, but he did find a wooden box that his stepmother had placed in a drawer in the dresser. She had neglected to lock the box in her haste to collect her money. Ezra recognized the box as one that had belonged to his father. It had disappeared after his father's death, and Maude had claimed not to know what had happened to it. Ezra had never known what was in the box his father had kept locked. It was the curiosity of several years that made him stop in the middle of his travel preparations and grab the now unlocked box.

Afraid that Maude might return and catch in him her room, Ezra hurried back into his own room taking the key from Maude's side of the door and using it to lock the door to his room. Ezra carried the box to his bed and laid it on the blanket then went to his closet and pulled out his carpet bag. Packing his belongings in just a few minutes, and he was about to place the wooden box in on top of the rest when his curiosity got the better of him. He just had to see what was in that box. Just a peak now wouldn't hurt, he told himself. Then he could look to his heart's content later when he was safely away.

Ezra sat on the bed and pulled the box onto his lap, a strange excitement growing in his chest. He opened the lid slowly and felt a little disappointed. He had expected there to be some kind of treasure in the box. Instead there appeared to be only a few photos and some newspaper clippings. The photo of himself and his father was on top and he lifted it out and set it on the bed beside him. His father had commissioned the photograph of the two of them only three months before his death. Edward had given Ezra a copy and kept one for himself. Ezra had taken that picture out many times in the last few months, wishing that his father had not died . . . had not left him to the mercies of his stepmother. Ezra picked up one of the clippings and found it to be a wedding announcement stating that Clara White of Dry Springs had married one Edward Tanner of Atlanta. Ezra's attention snapped back to the name of the groom. Edward Tanner? That had been one of his father's many aliases, Ezra knew.

Ezra hurriedly pulled out another clipping and read of the return of Edward and Clara Tanner from their honeymoon in San Francisco, and other announcing the birth of twin sons to the Tanner family. Ezra was stunned. Did this mean his father had more children? Twins? He had brothers somewhere in this place called Dry Springs?

Ezra pulled another photograph from the box and stared at it. His father sat beside a blond haired woman with a kind face and laughing eyes, and each held a small child on their lap. Ezra turned the photo over to find it had been inscribed on the back with the words "Edward and Clara Tanner, and the twins, Vincent and Ezra, age 1 year".

Twins! He had a twin brother! He had a twin brother that he'd never even known about. How was that possible he wondered as he stared raptly at the blond haired baby held in his mother's lap? Tears started gathering in his eyes as he suddenly realized that the woman in the picture was HIS mother too!

"Mama," he whispered almost silently and brushed trembling fingers over the woman and boy in the photo. "My brother, Vincent. I have a brother. I have a twin brother. I have a twin brother named Vincent."

Ezra experimented with the sound of the new idea. The more he said it, the more he liked it. Ezra dug through the box with building excitement, stopping to read the newspaper clippings that gave the impression that the Tanners were members of the upper crust of society in the area of Dry Springs. The last item he found in the box was a fat book bound in blue leather. He recognized his father's writing as he opened the book and realized he was holding his father's journal. Ezra had often seen his father with the book but had never been allowed to handle it. His father would always put it away before Ezra could ever catch a glimpse of his father's scribing. Ezra was tempted to settle in for a long read, but knew he would be pressing his luck. Maude could return at any moment and catch him. As much as he hated it, the book would have to wait for a little while. Right now his immediate concern was making his escape before Maude returned.

Ezra had made his plans well. He knew exactly where he had to go and what he had to do . . . but his discovery had added a new wrinkle to his escape. Suddenly Ezra was confronted with the possibility of having family. Family that might welcome him as the prodigal son. Family that might protect him from his stepmother: if he could find them.

"Dry Springs. All the papers were from Dry Springs. Even if they no longer live in that community, there should be someone who might know of their present residence," Ezra whispered to himself.

Ezra had originally planned to catch the stagecoach to Denver and lose himself there for a while before making his way to San Francisco. Dry Springs might even be a better bet when it came to throwing Maude off the scent because she would never expect him to flee to the tiny town on the edge of the desert. She would assume he would head for the closest large city where he would be able to support himself with his poker playing. So Ezra had impulsively made the decision to seek out his family and ask them for sanctuary.

He had already chosen a likely adult to buy a ticket for him. The town drunk was happy to oblige for the price of a whole bottle of whiskey, and for a second agreed to stand by Ezra at the station to give the impression that he was there to put Ezra on the train. For a third bottle the drunk agreed to keep his mouth shut if questioned. Ezra didn't for one minute believe that man would keep his secret but knew that with three bottles of whiskey at his disposal the man would mostly likely be very drunk or, even better, be passed out by the time Maude discovered he was gone.

Now Ezra was riding the train to Dry Springs to find his family. The train was traveling faster than Ezra had ever gone before, but it still wasn't fast enough for him. With a final glance at the passing scenery, Ezra pulled his father's journal from his carpet bag, sat back, and began to read.

7777777

Vin Tanner stopped forking straw into the horse stall long enough to drag his sleeve over his sweating forehead, wishing he could be down at the pond enjoying the cool water instead of sweltering in the close confines of the barn. Hearing heavy footsteps approaching the barn, Vin hurriedly resumed his chore, silently praying his grandfather had not returned from his trip to town drunk.

"Ain't you finished yet, boy?"

The harsh growl of the large gray haired man standing in the doorway of the barn caused the young boy to flinch in dread. He knew what was coming now. He'd lived this scene too many times in his young life.

"You are the laziest, most good-for-nothing baggage that God ever saw fit to put on this earth."

The drunken rage of the old man was almost palpable as he addressed his silent grandson. "I give you a roof over your head, and clothes on your back and what to I get in return? Nothing, that's what I get. Nothing; nothing but trouble and disrespect. I aught to throw you out on your little butt and see how you like being all alone out there. You wouldn't last a day, boy. You'd be crawling back to me begging me to take you in again. That's what you'd do. You'd think you'd show a little gratitude, work hard to earn your keep, but no. You got to be lazy. Always wandering off when I go looking for you. Never doing your chores. You ain't fit to be called my grandson, not after what that low down thievin' pa of yours did to me. You're just like your pa, good for nothing."

The diatribe was interrupted long enough for the man to take a deep swig from the whiskey bottle in his left hand.

"Got to teach you a lesson, alright. Got to beat some manners into you boy, make a man outta ya."

The drunk tossed the empty bottle against the barn wall where it shattered with a crash.

"Now look what you done," he growled as if Vin were the one responsible for breaking the bottle, "Done gone and made a mess. Well I know exactly what to do with you."

Vin tensed as the man unbuckled the large leather belt he wore around his waist and pulled it from the belt loops. His grandfather was drunk enough to be mean but still sober enough to cause him some serious damage. He only hoped the old man had drunk enough to slow his reflexes down so Vin would have a chance to evade the beating he knew was in store for him. If he could just make it to the door he could hide out in the woods until the old man finally drank himself into unconsciousness. Vin knew he was only going to have one chance to get away, and with the patience born of experience he waited for the right moment.

"What? Nothing to say? Well, I'll bet you'll be making plenty of noise in a minute," the old man said with an evil grin as he advanced toward the tense and silent boy.

Vin's grandfather drew his arm back and swung the belt buckle toward Vin's head in a vicious swipe that would have knocked the boy unconscious if Vin had not quickly slipped underneath the man's arm and started running for the door. His grandfather was caught off guard and without the intended target to stop it the belt finished its arc and smacked the man on the back with a meaty thunk.

The roar that followed caused Vin to run even faster as the enraged man turned after him. Vin's prayers were only partially answered as his grandfather was too drunk to want to run after him but still sober enough to swing the belt around and around over his head then let it fly at Vin. The buckle caught Vin painfully in the middle of his back causing him to stumble, but not fall. Catching his balance again, Vin swallowed back the tears the blow had caused and continued his flight for safety. He didn't stop running until he was away from the homestead and hidden in his secret spot.

He had found the small cave one day when he was trying to stay out of his grandfather's way and it had become his sanctuary. He had furnished it as best he could with bits and pieces he had scavenged from the town dump and whatever he could buy with the little money he managed to earn. He had a stool with one leg broken off but he'd found a large rock in the cave that served to replace the broken piece so he didn't have to sit on the ground if it was cold. He had managed to sneak a couple of blankets from the house, and had gathered lots of dried leaves that made a comfortable, if noisy, mattress. The battered tin cup and old frying pan he'd found came in handy when he had to trap and cook his own game. He had a change of clothes neatly folded and left on a short, natural rock shelf, and on a board he'd placed across two rocks he kept his treasures: a few pretty rocks, an eagle feather, a picture of his mother, and the small locket that had belonged to his mother before she had died of the fever two winters ago. The cave wasn't much by most people's standards, but it was his. It kept him warm and dry on those nights when it wasn't safe to stay at home.

Vin picked up his mother's locket and held it lovingly to his cheek. If he closed his eyes he could still see the locket around his mother's neck and smell the familiar scent of her. Vin bent his head and let the tears fall as he thought of the woman, missing the protective presence that had stood between him and the rest of world; between him and his grandfather's rage. Vin carefully pried open the locket to reveal the two locks of hair concealed inside, one blond and one chestnut brown. One was his and the other belonged to his twin brother, Ezra.

Vin had always known he had a twin. His mother never made a secret of what had happened in the past. He knew what had happened, but he didn't know where his brother was. Sometimes at night Vin would lay awake thinking about the brother he couldn't remember. He wondered what he looked like now, what he liked, and disliked. He wondered if Ezra was happy. He hoped Ezra was happy.

It would be nice if one of them was.

TWO

It was a very quiet, subdued little boy that stepped off the train in Dry Springs. After reading his father's journal, Ezra was questioning the wisdom of trying to find his family. Somehow he couldn't believe that his mother's family would welcome the son of the man that had stolen their family fortune and plunged them into abject poverty. It was only the idea of Vin that kept him from climbing back on the train and pretending he had never heard of Dry Springs.

Edward Standish had been a consummate confidence man. Ezra had often seen his father in action so knew just how gifted the man had been at deceit. It was a trait that Ezra had been taught to admire, but now he felt a little sick to know the depths that his father had sunk in order to acquire wealth. Edward had been traveling through the territory when he had heard of the White family, of their huge fortune, and the lovely unmarried daughter that stood to inherit everything on her father's death. He had also heard the rumors that Justin White was dying. It was a combination he found difficult to resist.

Edward had arranged an introduction to the lovely Clara White and proceeded to sweep her off her feet. The experienced older man had no trouble playing the romantic suitor to the innocent Miss White and found it incredible easy to seduce her. As he had gallantly told the frightened girl when she informed him she was expecting after only their first liaison, it must have been fate. Poor Clara thought he meant they were intened to be together, but he thought it was fated that he walk away with all that lovely money. The two had quietly eloped.

Edward played the loving husband, son-in-law, and eventually father for almost two years. He never meant for his charade to last that long but Clara's father had stubbornly clung to life with a tenacity that Edward despised. The only consolation was that, much to his surprise, the con-man had found extreme happiness and enjoyment in his twin sons. Vin had his mother's fair looks and Ezra was the spitting image of Edward himself. Both babies, however, touched a chord of paternal pride that he had never guessed he was capable of feeling.

When Justin White made a full recovery, his ersatz son-in-law realized his plans were in ruins. Unfortunately for the White family, Edward Standish was never without a back up plan. Edward had used his time well, and had utilized his influence as Justin's White son-in-law to his advantage. While White had been ill he had trusted Edward with more and more of the day to day operation of his various businesses and the large cattle ranch that made up the base of the White fortune.

Edward had been more than happy to take on the responsibility, and had in fact enjoyed the challenge that running the empire provided, and the respect that he garnered by his position. Truth be told, if Justin White had actually passed away, Edward might have remained married to Clara and continued quite happily running things. He had decided that being married to Clara was not too high a price to pay for gaining the business empire that he could build out of the White holdings. Everything would have turned out so differently if his father-in-law had just been so obliging as to die on schedule.

When Justin White started regaining his health, Edward was smart enough to see the writing on the wall and set in motion plans to strip the White fortune of all its liquid assets. Edward had taken his wife and twin sons on a surprise trip, telling his father in law that he thought his wife deserved a treat for being so understanding during the time he had spent running the business for her father. Justin had happily waved them off. Clara had boarded the train with Edward and the children, having no idea that Edward had stolen every last bit of money that her father possessed, leaving him with a load of outstanding debts and no way to pay them except liquidation of his land and possessions.

Edward continued to play the loving husband when they reached San Francisco while he made his plans to abandon his wife and, disappear with his sons under an assumed name. Edward fully intended to take Vin with him as well, but the child had come down ill right before Edward's planned departure so, much to Edward's pained regret, had to be left behind. Edward had taken Ezra and boarded a train for Philadelphia while Clara was nursing Vin back to health. Edward had never seen or had any news about Vin after he left. He had never risked making any kind of contact, knowing he would be arrested and convicted for theft if he were ever so insane as to attempt it.

Now Ezra stood on the railway platform and took in the dusty town, which was bustling with activity, trying to decide what his next step would be. His growling stomach made the decision for him. Ezra made his way to the one restaurant he could see from the railway station, hugging his carpet bag protectively to his chest. He had secreted about half his cash in the bag and the rest in various spots on his person, so could not afford to be separated from it. Ezra opened the restaurant door and stepped inside, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimness for one moment before attempting to find an empty table.

"You want somethin'?" a middle-age woman with a stained apron, asked as she approached the table he had chosen.

"Yes ma'am," Ezra replied politely, "May I see your menu?"

The woman snorted, "What? You think we're one of them fancy-smancy places like they have back east? Ain't got no menus. Cook's fixing fried chicken, potatoes, gravy, and green beans today. You don't want that you can go some where else."

"That will be fine, ma'am" Ezra assured her with his best dimpled smile, "May I have a cup of coffee with that too, please?"

A rude shrug was his only answer as the surly waitress turned away and stalked to the kitchen. Ezra looked around the room and noticed an unusually small number of people seated in the dining room for that time of day. Apparently the locals didn't find the service any more appealing than he did.

Ezra noticed the man sitting at the next table was staring at him, and seeing an opportunity to gather some information, deciding to strike up a conversation.

"Good day, sir," Ezra nodded politely to the staring man.

"Uh, howdy," The grizzled cow poke answered back.

"Is something amiss?" Ezra asked him, cocking his head to one side in question, "I seem to have garnered your attention in some fashion. Perhaps you wouldn't mind enlightening me as to your continued scrutiny?"

The cow poke looked at the watching boy in puzzlement, "Huh?"

"Why are you staring at me that way?" Ezra explained.

"Oh! Well you remind me a lot of somebody," the man replied.

"Who would that be?" Ezra asked, trying to appear only mildly interested.

"Just somebody that used to live here a few years ago," he was told.

"What happened to him?"

"He lit out for parts unknown after he stole a bunch of money from Justin White and his family."

Ezra pretended childish shock as he said, "He was a thief?"

The cow poke nodded knowingly, and eagerly began to tell the story to his attentive audience.

"Yep, stole all old man White's money. Left him with a pile of debts he couldn't pay. Had to wind up selling most of his ranch. Was only able to keep about one hundred acres of his near twenty thousand acre spread. The man used to be the richest man in six counties, now he don't hardly have a pot ta piss in," the cowboy finished with relish.

"How completely dastardly," Ezra told the man with wide eyes.

"Yep. Left his wife and one of his sons. Took off with the other son. No one's seen hide nor hair of either one o 'em in six years."

"And I resemble this miscreant?"

"Amazin' likeness, I'd say. What'd you say your name was?"

"Elmer Sullivan," Ezra told him smoothly.

"Well I doubt you're any relation then. This man's name was Tanner, Edward Tanner."

"You said he left his wife and son behind," Ezra focused on keeping his nervous tension from showing in his voice, "What happened to them? Are they still living here?"

"Nah, well the ma ain't anyway. She died a couple years back, caught the fever. That young 'un of hers still lives with the old man out on what's left of the ranch."

Ezra had to work extra hard and bite the inside of his cheek to rein in the feelings that filled him at the news of his mother's death. He had never known her but the loss of the opportunity to meet and get to know her stuck him hard. He had already begun to build up an image of her in his mind and this sudden shattering of it left him grief stricken, but he knew he couldn't afford to let this man have any idea of how deeply the casually spoken remark had affected him. He still needed information about his twin.

"Mr. White must be very comforted that he still has a member of his family with him," Ezra said as he tried to finesse more information from the gregarious man.

The cowboy snorted and told the boy, "Not hardly. That old man don't care nothing for that boy. Beats him something awful. It ain't right, but it ain't no one's business how a man handles his own kin. It's a real shame too 'cause Vin Tanner's a good kid. He sure don't deserve what he gets from that old buzzard." The man finished by shaking his head in sympathy for the child.

Ezra felt sick to his stomach when he heard of his brother's ill treatment. More than ever he was determined to find Vin. Ezra decided then and there that he needed to help Vin make his escape, too. When the waitress returned with his meal and set it in front of him, he didn't bother to give his thanks to the rapidly retreating back, but turned his attention back to the cowboy.

Over the course of the next half hour, Ezra subtly drew information from the man, and slowly consumed the meal that he no longer wanted. It was only the knowledge that he would need the sustenance to carry out his rapidly developing plans that allowed him to choke down the meal. Ezra decided this man would be just the unwitting stooge he needed to put his plan to free Vin into motion. Ezra bought the cowboy a piece of peach pie as he wooed his new friend. By the time the man had finished consuming the pie Ezra had conned him into buying a horse for him.

Ezra had spun the man a story of the horse that his father had promised for his birthday, but been unable to purchase before his untimely death at the hands of bandits. Ezra told him how his mother had given him the money that his father had meant to buy his horse with and told him they would buy him the horse as soon as they could find someone to help them choose a good one since his mother had no knowledge of horses. The tearful sadness in the young boy's eyes as he spoke of the promised gift and his father's death had softened the range-hardened cowboy into offering to help the boy choose a horse. Ezra knew his father would have been proud of him for the con.

The cowboy, whose name turned out to be Jim, helped Ezra pick out a proper mount and dickered with the livery owner over the price after Ezra had given him the money to make the deal. Ezra and Jim parted company with Jim feeling good about helping the poor orphan, and Ezra the proud owner of a very sound chestnut horse, a small saddle, and tack. Ezra's next stop was the general store where he stocked up on supplies and a several blankets. With his saddlebags stuffed with his new purchases and his carpet bag tied ecurely to the saddle, Ezra left the town and rode toward what was left of the White Ranch.

Ezra tried not to let his imagination run away from him as he rode his new horse down the dusty road to his grandfather's ranch. He already knew from what Jim had told him that his grandfather would not be happy to see him, but would his brother? Had his grandfather poisoned Vin against his brother as well as his father? Would Vin resent him for not being there when he needed him or for being the one their father chose take? Ezra couldn't help but wonder as he continued onward.

Vin was stalking a rabbit for his dinner when he heard the steady plod of hoof beats on the road that lead to his home. Curiosity had him stepping out from the cover of the forest to observe the rider that was slowly approaching. Vin could tell the rider was too small to be a man, but couldn't image what a child would be doing out this way. All the parents in the area warned their children about coming out here, knowing how indiscriminately violent Justin White could get when he drank. Vin thought maybe the child was lost, and hurried to the road to intercept the rider before he went any farther and wound up hurt.

Vin stood in the middle of the road and waited as the horse and rider came closer. Ezra reined his horse to a stop when he was close enough to get a good look at the boy waiting for him in the road and both boys stared at each other in stunned silence as recognition washed through them.

Era could see his name silently formed on Vin's mouth, and the spell was broken. Ezra threw himself from the horse and ran to meet Vin who was running toward him.

"Vin!" Ezra yelled at the same time that Vin yelled, "Ezra!"

The two boys threw their arms around each other and held on tight, both afraid that they were dreaming. Each one scared to let go lest they wake alone again.

"You're here," Vin whispered, "I can't believe you're really here!"

"I know! I almost didn't believe I'd find you," Ezra whispered back.

"I'm so glad you came," Vin told him, then pushed his brother back quickly as reality set in, "You can't come here! Grandpa will kill you if he catches you! He hates Pa and he hates you too cause Pa took you. We gotta get you away from here!"

"It's alright, Vin," Ezra tried to calm his brother. "I came to help you effect your emancipation too. We can both leave and never have to worry about him ever again."

"Leave?" Vin asked. "But where would we go?"

"The destination is immaterial. The main objective is to remove you from this locality," Ezra told him firmly. "I was informed in town of his unconscionable treatment of you. You need no longer be obliged to suffer such heinous treatment. You and I can take care of each other now."

The idea of never having to see his grandfather or face his mean, drunken temper again had Vin agreeing.

"Come on," Ezra urged, "Climb on my horse and we can leave right now. No one will ever know!"

"Wait!" Vin cried, "I have to get something first."

"Are you sure, Vin?" Ezra asked worriedly. "It would be safer if we made our escape now. We might be discovered if we were to continue on to your home."

"That's okay," Vin assured him, "it's not at the house. It's in my secret place. Grandpa doesn't know about it."

"Alright, we'll do as you say, but we'd better hurry. We need to put as much distance as possible between us and this place before night falls so I don't think we can afford to remain in the vicinity for longer than we absolutely have to."

Both boys mounted the horse and Vin wrapped his arms around his twin's waist and hugged tightly in joy as he gave Ezra directions to his secret place. Vin jumped down from the horse and grinned up at his brother when they reached his cave. Ezra climbed down, tied the reins to a nearby bush, and followed Vin into the cave. He stood looking around at the hideout that his brother had built for himself as Vin hurried to gather his things together, placing everything in the middle of one of his blankets then tying the corners together to form a bundle. Vin returned to the silently watching Ezra who had not moved from the entrance.

"I'm ready," Vin told him with a grin that Ezra returned.

"Then by all means, let us depart."

The boys had almost made it to the horse when the gravelly voice of their grandfather stopped them cold. They swung around to face the big man as he pushed aside the branches of a bush and staggered drunkenly into the small clearing that was in front of Vin's cave. Justin White had been out looking for his grandson when he spotted the two boys on the horse and followed them.

"Who the hell are . . . wait a minute," Justin squinted at Ezra then drew himself up in outrage, "It's you! You're the spittin' image of that thievin' father of yours. You're the one he left with when he took my money! Where the hell is he! You tell me! I'll beat it out of you if I have to."

The man made his way threateningly toward Ezra, but Vin stepped in front of his brother protectively.

"You leave him alone!" Vin yelled, "He ain't done nothing to you!"

"You'll never know what he did to me, boy," Justin yelled at his grandson as he slapped him down to the ground and turned back to Ezra. "Where's my money!"

"Is that all you care about, money?" Ezra asked facing the man defiantly. "Now you sound like my father. I don't think there's really much difference between you at all."

"I am nothing like that low down, thieving, son of a . . . "

"You forget my father was privy to your books and papers for almost two years before he departed. He was well aware of the way you amassed your fortune. You cheated just as may people as my father did. At least he never killed anyone," Ezra taunted.

The man went still for one minute as the words of the little boy facing off with him managed to penetrate his drunken fog.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man stated.

"I think you do," Ezra replied. "Gunter Svenson. Does the name ring any bells? Mr. Svenson was the owner of a piece of property that you wanted for its water rights, remember. When he wouldn't sell . . . you had him killed."

"How could you know about that," Justin whispered.

"I read my father's journals," Ezra told him, "He found out about it before he left. He just never saw the need to use the information."

"But you do, is that it?" the man growled.

"Exactly. Vin and I are going to ride out of here and you are going to let us. You will leave us alone from now on . . . unless you'd like to swing for murder," Ezra finished smugly.

"Got it all figured out, don't you boy," his grandfather told him smoothly, "Just like your father, aren't you? Always thinking. Well it occurs to me that it'd be a whole lot safer for me if I just killed you now, then I'd never have to worry about the noose around my neck. After all, who would miss a couple more snot-nosed kids anyway?"

Ezra suddenly stopped smiling as he realized just what he had done. What he had thought was a surefire way to control his grandfather had turned out to be a death sentence for himself and Vin. Justin White started toward his grandson with an evil smirk on his face as he reached out his hands towards the small neck, intending to strangle the boy.

Ezra told his legs to move, to run away from the danger but they refused to carry him. He could only stand in fear as the giant man closed the distance between them. Suddenly his grandfather fell to the ground, yelling in surprise. Ezra looked up dazedly to see Vin with a large branch in his hand step forward and bring it down onto the back of their grandfather's head before the man could get up from the ground where he'd fallen when Vin had struck him in the back of the knees with the branch. Vin lifted the branch and hit him once more just to be sure the man was really unconscious and not just stunned, then dropped the branch and ran to Ezra.

Vin wrapped his arms around Ezra and pulled him into his body hard, holding on tightly as both boys started to shake.

"H...h . . . he, he was going to kill us," Ezra stuttered.

"We gotta get outta here, Ez," Vin told him urgently as he pulled back.

Vin gave him a shake when he didn't respond right away and Ezra looked at him again.

"Get on the horse, Ez. We gotta leave NOW!"

Nodding his understanding, Ezra mounted the horse and reached down to lift the bundle that Vin was holding out to him, and then Vin crawled up behind him.

"Which way?" Ezra asked.

"South," Vin stated. "He'll expect us to go south toward Mexico so we'll start out that way to make him think that's where we're going then I'll cover our tracks and we'll head west toward the mountains."

Ezra nodded and kicked the horse into a run. The reunited brothers held on tight as they made their escape.

7777777

Night had fallen and Vin was on foot leading the horse through the darkness as he tried to find a good spot to stop for the night. Vin knew that both they and the horse needed to rest. Vin could tell that Ezra was almost at the end of his rope. His brother had been raised in the cities of the east and was not used to the rigors of the western territories yet. The flight had exhausted him and it was taking all his remaining resources just to stay upright on the horse. Vin breathed a sigh of relief when he finally found a suitable spot. The splashing of water from the nearby stream was a welcome sound to the thirsty boy. They had finished the water in the one canteen that Ezra had brought hours earlier.

"Ez, this place is good enough. We'll stop for the night," Vin said.

Ezra raised his weary head and nodded. He slid off the horse and crumpled to the ground as his legs refused to hold him after so many hours on the horse. Vin hurried to help him up.

"It's okay, Ez. I gotcha. You just sit down over here and I'll make camp. We'll have some food in no time."

"Thank you, Vin," Ezra replied in a tired voice.

"No problem. You just rest for a spell."

Vin quickly unloaded the saddlebags and his bundle and Ezra's carpetbag from the horse and then removed the saddle. It was lucky the saddle was not a full size one or he'd never been able to manage it by himself. Vin grabbed the reins and led the horse to the stream and let him have a small drink, careful not to allow the horse to drink too much and founder. Vin bent over and dipped his hand in the cool stream, sipping the water from his cupped palm and repeating the action several times until his own thirst was quenched. He dipped the canteen into the stream and filled it, then led the horse back to camp.

Vin handed the filled canteen to Ezra who took it eagerly and started to gulp it down.

"Hey, slow down," Vin reached out and wrestled the canteen from Ezra, "you'll make yourself sick if you drink it too fast. Sip it slowly."

Nodding his understanding, Ezra took the canteen back from Vin and sipped as he had been instructed.

"Let me find some wood and I'll have a fire going in no time," Vin told him.

Ezra watched his brother efficiently setting up camp and marveled at his expertise.

"You're very good at this," Ezra told him.

"What's that?" Vin threw him a questioning look over his shoulder.

"All this," Ezra said, sweeping his hand out around the campsite, "wilderness living."

Vin shrugged and told him, "I used to have a friend named Chanu. He was an Indian who lived on the reservation with his family. His father, Kojay, taught us both a lot about hunting and tracking and living out here. I liked visiting with Chanu and his family. They were always real nice to me," Vin finished sadly.

"You don't visit them anymore?"

Vin shook his head and turned back to the fire, hiding his expression from his brother.

"No. Grandpa found out, and he didn't like it. He told me he didn't want me associating with savages. He told me if I ever went out to the reservation again he'd hunt Chanu down and drag him behind his horse until he died then throw his body in the river for the fishes to eat."

"Do you think he would have?" Ezra asked curiously.

Vin was silent as he poked a stick into the growing flames of the campfire then said, "Yeah. He would have."

"From your description of your friend and his family and my one and only meeting with our illustrious grandfather, I would venture to say that our grandfather is the one truly worthy of the appellation of savage."

"You'll get no argument from me," Vin said as he threw another branch on the fire then turned to face Ezra again.

"Let me see what we have in the way of supplies and I'll fix us something to eat," Vin told his brother.

"I hope what I purchased is acceptable," Ezra said suddenly feeling inadequate around this boy who was so knowledgeable about surviving in the wilderness. "I wasn't sure what to get or how much to bring. I hope it's sufficient."

Vin pulled cloth bags of beans, and rice from the saddle bags, and one of coffee. Vin glanced up at his brother with a grin, "Good thing you remembered the coffee 'cause it's really hard for me to get goin' in the mornings sometimes without it"

"Me too!" Ezra told him in surprise, delighted that they had something in common, and received an equally delighted grin from his twin.

"We'll have to use this bacon up pretty quick before it goes bad," Vin told him. "I'll fry some of it up tonight and we can finish it in the morning. Let's see what else you got in here. Canned peaches! Yum! I love peaches. Hard tack, that's good," Vin continued to pull out supplies making appreciative noises and Ezra started to relax.

"With what we can trap on the trail, this should hold us for a good time. The only problem we really got is water. We only have the one canteen. We're gonna have to be real careful," Vin told him seriously.

"I would suggest buying one at the nearest town but I feel it would behoove us to avoid such places as much as possible. The sight of two boys traveling alone is sure to bring unwelcome attention down on our heads. If we are to avoid our grandfather and my stepmother, I feel we must practice caution at every turn," Ezra said.

"Your stepmother?" Vin asked.

"I'm afraid you are not the only one fleeing from a desperate situation, brother. I ran away from my stepmother and her nefarious plans for me," Ezra told him seriously.

"What happened, Ez?"

"I do believe she was in the process of selling me to a most disreputable gentleman for purposes on which I have no wish to speculate."

"She was going to SELL you?" Vin whispered in stunned amazement. "The woman was actually going to take money to give you away?"

"You have grasped the situation firmly, for that is indeed what she planned for me. If I had not chanced to overhear her negotiations with the gentleman in question I fear I would even now be in the firm clutches of the scoundrel."

"What kind of person could do that, especially to a kid?"

"The Maude Standish kind of person," Ezra told him with a grim sort of smile. "The kind of person that is entirely self serving, and without conscience."

"Then I'd say you're well rid of her," Vin stated firmly.

"On that we can agree."

Silence fell between the brothers as each contemplated their situation. Vin pulled his frying pan out of his bundle and his pocket knife from his front pocket and proceeded to cut slices off the block of bacon and place them in the pan. He pulled a pan that Ezra had purchased from the pile of supplies and started peeling a few potatoes and slicing them into the pan. He set the pan of bacon to cook and waited a few minutes them poured off the bacon grease into the pan of potatoes then put the bacon back by the fire to finish cooking. Vin stirred the bacon grease and potatoes with his knife then set that pan in the coals to cook too.

Ezra breathed in the aroma of the cooking food appreciatively and heard his stomach give a loud rumble. Vin apparently heard it too, because he turned his head and grinned at Ezra.

"Won't be long now. This is sure gonna taste good after a long day in the saddle. Ya did good, Ezra."

Ezra's cheeks pinkened in response to Vin's words and he felt unaccountably gratified to have done something to win Vin's approval.

"Vin," Ezra started to ask then stopped uncertainly.

"Yeah?" Vin answered with an eyebrow raised in question.

"What was our mother like?" Ezra whispered the question he had so desperately wanted to ask so many times on their long ride but hadn't had the courage.

Vin stared at his brother for a moment, and felt the tears start to fill his eyes just as they always did when he thought of his mother. Ezra saw the look on his brother's face and jumped from his resting place to hurry to Vin. The boy threw his arms around his brother and held on tight as fierce shudders began to shake the other boy.

"I'm sorry, Vin," Ezra yelled, "I didn't mean to make you sad! I'm sorry!"

Vin's arms wrapped around Ezra and tightened, grasping handfuls of his shirt in both hands. Vin had felt so alone for so long, ever since his mother's death. He had suddenly realized that he wasn't alone anymore. Here was someone who cared about him, someone who he could care about again. Someone he could love and would love him. The realization of that had broken through the shell he had tried to build around his emotions for his own protection since his mother's death. Held securely in his twin brother's arms, Vin let himself go as he hadn't been able to in the last two years. All the pain, and fear, and grief he had held at bay for so long came pouring out in one tidal wave of emotion.

Ezra held his brother close, and whispered desperate words of comfort. If asked later he wouldn't have been able to recall anything that he said, would never know if whatever he mumbled to his twin even made sense . He only knew his brother was hurting, and was reaching out to him for security and comfort. For the first time in his life, Ezra truly felt needed. He felt he was more than just a useful tool in someone's life.

Vin didn't see him as someone to use and then abandon. Right now he was the rock Vin clung to in the raging maelstrom of emotions that had been locked in his small body for so long. Vin trusted him to be there when he was needed. The closeness he felt to Vin at that moment was a strange and novel feeling in Ezra's young life. Being as emotionally needy as Vin and afraid of losing the wondrous feeling he'd just discovered, Ezra began to cling to Vin as tightly as Vin was holding on to him. Neither boy realized the depth of the bond that was binding their souls together as they rocked one another.

It was the smell of singeing bacon that returned Vin's attention to the present. Reluctantly pulling back from Ezra's arms, Vin swiped at his eyes and nose with his shirt sleeve then turned away in embarrassment to tend to their dinner. Both boys remained silent until Ezra hesitantly laid his hand on Vin's shoulder.

"It's all right, Vin. We're family, and it's alright to let go with family . . . isn't it?" Ezra softly asked him.

Vin turned to look at Ezra and saw the sincerity in the green eyes looking so hopefully back at him. Vin felt something inside relax and he nodded at his brother and reached up to lay his hand over Ezra's where it rested on his shoulder.

"Yeah, family . . . brothers. We can share everything," Vin told him.

Ezra beamed at him in relief, glad that Vin had accepted him so fully. Vin returned the smile then started to dish up the meal he had rescued.

"It's a little dark but it's still okay to eat," Vin assured him, "I think I'm hungry enough to have eaten it even if it had been burned as hard as rocks."

Ezra laughed and both boys dug into the meal with gusto. When they had eaten their fill, Vin showed Ezra how to clean the tin plates and the pans with sand before dipping them in the stream. Vin had to laugh at the way Ezra wrinkled his nose in disgust at the sight of the pan full of sand and bacon grease and flatly refused to touch it.

Vin and Ezra had spread out their blankets close together, far enough from the fire to be safe but close enough to benefit from its warmth, when Vin finally felt ready to answer Ezra's earlier question.

"She was pretty," Vin stated, staring up at the night sky.

Ezra didn't need to ask to whom Vin was referring. He kept silent and let his brother pick his words without interruption.

"She liked to laugh and sing. She told me life was better if you faced it with a smile instead of a frown. It was easier to get through the bad times if you could find something to laugh about. She would always sing as she worked. She used to sing to me before I went to bed at night too. I'd crawl in my bed and she'd come in and sit on the bed beside me and stroke my hair and sing to me until I fell asleep. She always stood up for me when Grandpa came home drunk and wanted to beat on me. She took good care of me and I miss her so much. I . . . always wished it was Grandpa that got the fever instead of her. He would have deserved to die, but she didn't."

"I wish I could remember her," Ezra said sadly.

"She remembered you," Vin told him. "She used to tell me about when we were babies. She missed you, Ezra. She told me once that she missed you every day after you were gone."

Ezra felt the tears gather in his eyes as he listened to Vin, and whispered, "I saw a picture of her. I found it in Father's papers the day I ran away. She was lovely."

"Did father . . . " Vin began but broke off.

"Yes, he missed you too," Ezra assured him. "He never spoke to me of you, but in his journal he often wrote about you; wondered how you were and what kind of person you were growing into. His only regret about the whole situation was leaving you behind. He had originally planned to take both of us, you know, but you got sick and he had to leave you behind or risk getting arrested."

"Oh," Vin whispered, feeling strangely relieved that his father had cared about him enough to want to take him too. Vin had often wondered what it was about him that his father had disliked so much that he would take his brother but leave him behind.

"I have his journal with me," Ezra sat up and reached into the jacket he had folded and laid beside his head, and pulled out the book, "You can read it if you want to."

Vin looked at Ezra in embarrassment and mumbled, "I can't read. Grandpa never would let me go to school."

Ezra was surprised at Vin's shamed-faced statement. Ezra had never attended an actual school himself, but his father had spent many hours teaching him. The time spent traveling between cities, or the time between cons was usually filled by his father's lessons. Edward Standish considered a well rounded education an essential for any conman, so Ezra had been taught to read, and do arithmetic at an age much earlier than other children of the time.

The fact that he had to spend so much time alone while his father, and eventually his stepmother, were conducting business helped spur him to learning to read so he could fill the empty, boring hours. He had devoured every book he could get his hands on and consequently the diversity of his knowledge was wide-ranging and very unusual for a seven year old. His father had also drilled him in doing arithmetic problems in his head until he could calculate a profit, or a percentage, or the odds almost without thinking.

Ezra had never really thought about how it must have been for other children his age, and had just assumed Vin was his equal in education. Now it seemed that Vin had been denied something that Ezra took for granted, and Ezra realized his brother was ashamed of his inability to read even though he was not to blame for the lack.

"That's alright, I'll read it to you now if you want and I'll teach you to read."

Vin raised his head from his blanket and looked in hopeful eagerness at his twin, "Really? You could really teach me to read?"

"I don't see why not," Ezra assured him with a tired smile. "I'm sure we will have plenty of opportunities to begin the basics on our ride to freedom. With my teaching skills and your quick mind we'll have you reading in no time."

"Gee, thanks, Ez," Vin stared at him with heartfelt gratitude, "I always wanted to learn to read. Mama used to read to me from her books when she had the time, and I always liked the stories. I really want to be able to read them for myself."

"It's agreed then. We'll begin your lessons in the morning," Ezra finished on a wide yawn.

"Okay. Night, Ezra."

Settling deeper into his blankets, Ezra replied, "Good night, Vin. Pleasant dreams."

As the two boys gave into their exhaustion and slept, the full moon shined its silver light over them allowing anyone who might have been observing to see the hands that unconsciously snaked out of two bedrolls and grasped each other in the night.

THREE

Rain dripped off the brim of his hat and ran down the back of his jacket as Buck Wilmington looked up to check the darkened sky once more. He couldn't help the flinch he gave as a bolt of lightening hit the ground only a hundred yards or so from him and a tremendous thunder clap shook the air, causing his horse to shy in terror. The man had a difficult few minutes bringing the animal back under control, and he cursed the elements all the while. Buck knew that the only thing to make him feel any better would be getting out of the damned storm.

Buck turned his troubled blue eyes to meet the frustrated hazel ones of his best and oldest friend, Chris Larabee.

"Chris," Buck told him anxiously, "We gotta get outta this. I know you want to get back home today, but it just ain't wise to try and keep goin' in this kind of weather. We could wind up dead in a hurry, and you know I'm right, pard."

An annoyed growl was his only answer at first, then the gunslinger ungraciously bowed to the inevitable.

"There's that abandoned homestead at Culvers Bluff about half a mile from here. We'll hole up there until it clears up," Chris ground out darkly.

Buck kept his mouth shut, but silently sighed in relief and spurred his horse to follow the man wearing the black duster. The two men, part of a group of protectors of the small town of Four Corners, were heading back home after delivering a prisoner to Fort Laramie for trial. The journey had been rough; plagued by two attempts by the bank robber's gang to break him free, and bad weather from beginning to end.

The cocky prisoner's threats and constant complaints had quickly worn down his friend's very limited patience. A gag, a well placed punch and a few terse threats from the cold-eyed blond peacekeeper had solved the problem but still left Chris Larabee in a hell of a bad mood. The small bullet crease the man had received on his left shoulder in one of the attacks had not helped lighten his mood either. Although not serious and healing nicely, it still stung just enough when he moved to keep him irritable.

The normally effusive Buck had kept his thoughts to himself as the duo left on the return leg of the trip, and just allowed his friend to stew in silence. He knew how easily Chris' temper could explode when he was in a black funk, and didn't plan to be on the receiving end when the explosion occurred. The two men had ridden in near silence for the last two days and had only been about half a day away from home when the thunderstorm that had been threatening all day finally broke over their heads with a vengeance. Buck knew the further delay just pushed his friend a little closer to the edge of his temper.

The two rain soaked men rode their horses as fast as the muddy road would allow and soon the abandoned homestead came into sight. The roof and walls of the old log cabin had long ago collapsed leaving only the remains of a stone fireplace and chimney standing in a rubble heap of rotting logs. The barn had fared better and it was there that both men headed their mounts as the skies seemed to open even wider and the pounding rain started coming down harder.

Buck stepped down off his horse in front of the barn door and quickly opened it enough to allow the horses to be led inside. He walked his horse in and turned to watch as Chris followed, and then closed the door behind them. Buck sighed in relief, glad to finally be out of the rain.

The darkened barn smelled like musty hay and rodents but Buck didn't care one whit. The promise of being warm and dry once more made the old barn a palace as far as he was concerned. Buck and Chris made quick work of unsaddling their mounts and rubbing them down. It wasn't until he went to bed the horse down in one of the old stalls that he noticed the chestnut horse watching them curiously from the shadow of an adjoining stall.

"Hey, Chris," Buck said quietly, not wanting to let any concealed enemies know that he was aware of their presence.

The black-clad gunslinger didn't respond until Buck called him again, putting a little more urgency into his voice. Chris spun around ready to snap at his friend when he noticed the serious look on Buck's face and the horse behind the large man. Chris pulled his gun from his holster as fast as the lightening striking outside and scanned the barn's interior looking for the horse's owner.

Years of working together had the two men moving in perfect synch with each other as they searched the barn. When no one had been found on the lower floor, Chris jerked his head at the old ladder leading to the hayloft indicating he would climb up and Buck should cover him. Buck nodded in silent agreement and kept his pistol aimed at the loft, eyes glued upward as he strained to see even the smallest trace of movement.

Chris climbed the ladder slowly, his own gun still in his right hand. He paused to listen every few seconds for any sounds coming from above, but could hear nothing over the thunder and rain that was still assaulting the barn's roof. Chris glanced down at Buck as he approached the top of the loft and Buck nodded his readiness. Chris gathered himself then surged up the last few steps of the ladder and threw himself on the floor and rolled so he wouldn't be an easy target.

Buck waited tensely below, expecting to hear gunshots at any moment, and saying a silent prayer for his friend's safety. Buck was prepared to rush to his friend's aid, but wasn't at all prepared for what happened next.

"Oh my God!" Buck heard Chris's shaken voice say.

"Chris!" Buck yelled up, "Are you all right?"

"Buck, get up here . . . now!"

The urgent tone of the gunslinger's voice had Buck's feet going forward even before he consciously decided to move them. He raced across the barn and flew up the ladder only to jerk to a stop in amazement at the sight that awaited him when he reached the top. There in the very back corner of the loft was his best friend kneeling beside a soaked heap of blankets. Blankets wrapped around two small and obviously ill little boys.

"What the hell?" Buck whispered, shaking in his head in disbelief. He tried closing and opening his eyes, thinking he was surely seeing things, but the two boys remained.

Chris reached out his hand and placed it on the forehead of the auburn haired little boy, and felt the heat rising off the small body.

"He's burning up with fever, Buck!"

His touch seemed to rouse the sleeping boy and the child tried to press his face against the cool hand for a moment before he woke enough to realize he and his brother were no longer alone. The boy stared in confusion into the concerned eyes of the blond man leaning over him.

Buck moved forward to join his partner, dropping down and resting on his heels on the loft floor. He reached out to try to gauge whether or not the other child was feverish as well but his hand never made it to the boy's blonde head because the chestnut haired boy suddenly exploded off the floor and pushed him away with a shoulder in his stomach. Caught off balance, Buck fell backwards.

"No!" the child yelled in a raspy voice as he moved, "You leave Vin alone! I won't let you hurt him!"

The child's forward momentum would have caused him to crash to the floor with the startled man if Chris had not quickly grabbed the child and pulled him close to his chest.

"Hey, it's okay, son," Chris told the boy as he started struggling weakly

against the arms that held him. "We're not going to hurt you or your . . . friend? ...brother?"

The small head tipped back to stare at him and Chris felt like those feverish green eyes were reading his very soul. Whatever the boy had seen must have satisfied him because he stopped struggling and leaned a little closer to the warmth of the body holding him. Chris' arms tightened and pulled the suddenly shivering boy a little closer.

"Brother," the small voice informed weakly.

Buck picked himself up from where he had landed on the hay-strewn floor and eyed the boy who had attacked him so ferociously in defense of his brother. He couldn't help but smile at the small boy who acted like a full grown tiger but looked like a half-drowned kitten.

"I'm surely sorry. I didn't mean to scare you son. I just wanted to help," Buck smiled at the staring boy. "Would it be okay with you if I take a look at your brother to make sure he's alright?" Buck asked the child shivering in the arms of his friend.

Buck took his turn at being assessed by the child who finally nodded his agreement but watched every move the man made closely. Buck reached for the other boy again and didn't even have to actually put his hand on the boy's skin to feel the heat that was radiating from him.

"Damn, he's burning up too," Buck whispered absently. He reached under the unconscious child and lifted him into his arms, and sitting cross-legged on the hay-covered floor set the boy in his lap. The long blond hair hung in wet strings around the boy's head and Buck gently pushed it away from the pale face. "His clothes are soaking wet, Chris. He's only gonna get worse if we don't get him outta these and into some dry duds."

Chris agreed as he noticed the shivers that wracked the body of the unconscious boy.

"Give him to me and go fetch the saddlebags and bedrolls," Chris barked out an order. "I've got a couple of extra shirts we can dress them in until we can get their clothes dry and we'll wrap them in the bedrolls. After you do that, see if you can't find something to build a fire with and get a meal started and some coffee brewing. We need to get some hot food into these boys as soon as possible."

Buck reluctantly surrendered the child and hurried to comply with his orders. As much as he hated to leave the boys, he knew Chris was right. They needed to get them dry, warmed up, and fed before they got any worse. Buck stripped off his jacket and handed it to Chris, "Wrap this around them for now. I'll be right back."

Chris watched as Buck's head disappeared from view as the man climbed down the loft ladder and then he turned his attention back to the children in his arms. He laid the jacket over the two boys as best he could and pulled the little boys closer to him, hoping the heat from his body would help keep them from catching any further chills. Chris looked down and saw the green-eyed youngster watching him seriously from over the edge of the jacket.

"We'll have you warm and dry again in no time, son," Chris spoke gently. "You just rest and don't worry. Buck and I will take care of you both, and won't let anything happen to you."

The small boy stared at him in silence for awhile as though trying to judge his sincerity. Chris felt a ripple of something that felt like pride when the child appeared to accept his promise.

"Can you tell me your name?" Chris asked him.

"Ezra," the boy answered, his voice sounding even more tired and scratchy than it had before.

"Pleased to meet you, Ezra. My name's Chris. My friend's name is Buck."

"How do you do, Mr. Chris," the tiny voice rasped courteously.

"And your brother's name is Vin?"

"Yes. Vin."

"Where are your parents, Ezra?" Chris asked, concerned about the reason why the parents would have left the two sick boys alone in this weather and wondering if perhaps he would have to deal with a set of worried adults before this was over.

"Dead," was the answer he received.

The flat, emotionless voice the boy had answered him with and the wealth of experience that showed in eyes that should have been too young to hold it caused Chris' heart to ache for the little orphan boys. What kind of hell had the child endured to cause that kind of terrible acceptance? What could two such precious little ones have ever done in their short lives to deserve the ordeal they had so obviously gone through to bring them to this place at this time? Why did life have to be so unkind to the little innocents of the world? Chris' reflections on the unfairness of life were broken when Buck returned to the loft with the saddlebags and bedrolls.

He stopped a few feet away and stripped off the damp oiled-canvas sheeting that was protecting the blankets rolled up inside from the rain, and then dropped the canvas on the loft floor and continued to the back corner where the man and two boys waited. Buck dropped the saddlebags and blankets at the gunman's feet and sat down in front of the trio. He began pulling things from the saddlebags.

"Here," Buck said as he handed the other man a faded towel and a dry shirt, "Use this to dry him off before you put him in the shirt. I'll take care of the other one."

Buck took the blond boy back and settled him in his lap once more and began stripping the wet clothes off of him. The two men worked quickly and soon had both boys in dry clothing and wrapped in blankets. Buck had used one of his shirts to dry the blond boy's hair and sat for a few minutes running his fingers through it trying to undo some of the tangles. When he had done all he could he reluctantly surrendered the child to Chris once more.

"I'll go see about supper," he told the other man and rose to his feet once more, gathering up the boys' wet clothing, blankets, and the saddlebags as he went.

Buck climbed down the loft ladder and started draping the wet items he carried over the sides of the horses stalls to dry. Then he stood looking around for a few minutes before deciding the best place to attempt a fire was in the middle of the earthen barn floor. His careful perusal of the barn ceiling had shown a small hole not too far from the site he picked for his fire. Hopefully the hole would draw out most of the smoke so it wouldn't fill up the barn. He carefully cleared a large spot and began digging a good sized hole to act as a fire pit with a piece of broken board he found. He knew they would have to be extremely careful building a fire in the old barn if they didn't want it going up in flames around then. Buck kicked one of the old unused stalls apart and broke the old boards in to shorter pieces by placing one end on the ground while he held the other and stomped in the middle of it until it broke. He hauled the broken pieces of wood to his fire pit and soon had a good fire going and began preparing a supper of canned beans with pieces of beef jerky crumbled into them, and ranch bread.

While the food cooked and coffee brewed, he took advantage of the fire's warmth to change out of his own still damp clothing into his last dry shirt and another pair of britches. He kept shooting glances to the loft as he dressed, anxious to return to the little boys so desperately in need of their help. He couldn't help but wonder how the two had wound up alone and sick in the old barn. It really didn't matter how they came to be there though he decided. The bottom line was those boys needed their help and he was more than ready to give it to them. Explanations and answers could wait, the boys could not.

Ezra struggled to remain awake. He was so tired and the lure of sleep was a siren's call, but he knew he needed to stay awake in case his brother needed him. He couldn't help but snuggle deeper into the blond man's hold, relishing not only the warmth he absorbed off the man's body, but also the feeling of security that seemed to wrap around him like the strong arm that held him. For some reason that Ezra could not explain to himself, he had taken one look into the man's eyes, and had known that he wouldn't hurt him. As he stared into those hazel eyes he had felt as if they were draining away all his fear and anxiety and refilling him with safety and security. He had known that Chris was someone he could trust. Ezra was a little amazed at how sure he was of that because Ezra Standish didn't trust anyone except Vin.

"Did you and your brother get caught in the storm? Is that how you got so wet?" Chris asked interrupting Ezra's musings.

"We were caught in it, but we were already wet," Ezra whispered. "The horse fell when we crossed the creek. Everything was drenched." The little boy gave a hard cough that caused him to moan in pain and lay one hand against his throat. His throat felt like it was on fire.

Chris reckoned the closest creek to the old cabin had to be at least two hours away by horseback. If the boys had ridden that long in wet clothing in the chilly pre-storm air then it was no wonder they were ill.

"How are you doing there, son?" Chris' concern had deepened with the cough Ezra had given. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yes, sir," Ezra managed to rasp out and grimaced at the discomfort the effort caused in this throat.

"That sounds like a pretty bad sore throat?"

Ezra nodded but didn't try to speak again.

"We'll get you something to drink in a little bit. Maybe that will help, alright?" Chris smiled down at the boy.

Another nod was his answer.

"How's it coming down there, Buck?" Chris called down to the other man.

"Almost ready, Chris. You want to move the boys down here closer to the fire, or leave them up there?"

Chris considered the options and answered, "It'd probably be better all around if we moved them down there. There'll be more light to tend them by, and I don't think this old, moldy hay is any good for them."

"Okay, Pard," Buck called back, "I'll be right up to help ya with 'em."

Buck climbed up the ladder again and when he reached the blond man he stooped and picked Vin up. He started to reach for Ezra to allow the other man to rise, but suddenly two little arms wrapped around Chris' neck. Ezra held on tight and buried his face in the man's shoulder, not willing to surrender the safe haven he had found.

"Hey! It's alright, son. It's just Buck. He won't hurt you," Chris said and put his hand on the back of the boy's head and stroked it gently. "He just wants to help."

The little arms never loosened their hold and Chris finally had to awkwardly climb to his feet assisted by Buck's hand on his arm. The men carefully climbed down the ladder one-handed, each holding a boy on his hip with the other one. Soon the little ones were ensconced in their warm blankets by the fire, held securely by the gunfighters.

"You better get outta them clothes before you wind up like them," Buck reminded his friend.

Chris nodded his agreement and looked down at the boy nestled against him. He bent his head closer to the child and used one finger to gently lift the boy's face towards his own.

"I need to change into some dry clothes, Ezra. Would you mind staying with Buck for a few minutes, son? Can you do that for me? I promise I'll be right back just as soon as I can.

Chris felt Ezra's eyes looking at him again and the boy sighed and let go of Chris then slid out of his lap to stand before the man.

"Certainly, Mr. Chris," he croaked causing him to clutch at his sore throat again.

"Hey, now!" Buck called softly and held out an arm in invitation, "It sounds like you could use something for that throat. I don't have any medicine like my friend Nathan carries around with him, but maybe some of this coffee might help make it feel better? What do ya think?"

Ezra studied the large dark haired man reaching out for him and both grown ups could see the indecision the child radiated. Buck waited patiently for the boy to make up his mind.

"It's alright, Ezra. I trust Buck," Chris assured the boy, "and you can too. I promise."

The green eyes switched their focus to Chris for a second then returned to Buck. Slowly the child shuffled toward the man, never letting his eyes stray from the blue ones that watched him back. Buck got the feeling the boy was watching his eyes for any indication of danger. Buck knew a lot of gunslingers that watched a man's eyes in order to tell what he was going to do, but this was the first time he had ever seen someone this age do it.

When Ezra reached Buck's side he threw one more look at Chris over his shoulder then carefully lowered himself to sit beside the other man. Chris smiled his approval and Buck could feel the little body beside him relax a little.

"How about that coffee?" Buck asked the child.

Ezra nodded his head in acceptance. As Buck readied a cup of coffee, Chris stripped off his damp clothing and gratefully climbed into dry clothes. When he returned to the fire, Ezra was sitting cross-legged by Buck, holding a tin cup in both hands and swallowing a mouthful of the sweetened coffee. Chris could tell that the warmth of the coffee had managed to sooth some of the soreness from the boy's throat as he didn't seem to be having too much trouble swallowing.

The too-long sleeves of the shirt Ezra wore were pushed back to his elbows and Chris could see that one side of the shirt was about to slide off the little shoulder. He sat down beside the boy and reached out to pull the garment back up then drew the blanket a little tighter around the child.

"You hungry?" Chris asked him and received another nod in answer.

Chris spooned some of the grub Buck had prepared on to a tin plate and set a fork on the edge before handing it to the little boy. Chris watched a shaking hand try to hold the tin cup and the other reach for the plate of food, and knew there was no way the boy was in any shape to feed himself. Setting the plate on the ground he gently pried the cup from the child and set it down too. Then he reached out and pulled Ezra into his lap again. The child settled himself against the blonde man as naturally as if he had been doing it all his life and Chris felt a wealth of warm emotion sweep over him at the trust the child was implicitly placing in him. Chris handed the cup back to Ezra and picked up the plate himself.

He smiled down at the child watching him so trustingly and said, "Why don't you concentrate on holding that and let me handle the fork for you? I don't think you have enough hands for all of this right now."

Chris filled the fork and held it out. Ezra obediently opened his mouth and let Chris feed him. Ezra knew he was too big to be fed like a baby, but he was so tired and it felt good to let the man take care of him. Chris continued to feed Ezra, stopping every few bites to allow the boy to sip from the coffee in his cup, and kept up a stream of low voiced, comforting encouragement.

Buck had to smile at the sight of his normally tough friend turning to warm mush at the hands of the small boy. His friend had a reputation of being deadly-cold and unfeeling. He knew if he told this story to any of the men that had ever pissed themselves after being subjected to the hardened gunslinger's deadly-cold stare, they'd be calling him a liar. Buck counted himself one of the lucky few who actually knew the man that lay behind the reputation. He had seen and been on the receiving end of the man's deep capacity for caring more than once. It was what kept Buck around when Chris' demons tried to eat him alive and he lashed out in his pain.

Buck's smile faded away as he looked down at the small boy lying so still in his arms. He had bitten back a dark curse in the loft as he stripped the sodden clothes from the boy and witnessed the many scars that covered the little frame, evidence of many past beatings. He had found the bruise in the middle of the little back and knew it had been caused by a belt buckle. Buck had seen too many such marks left on the bodies of his mother's co- workers not to recognize it when he saw it. He hoped he got to meet the person responsible for putting the marks on the poor child. He would personally make sure the bastard got a taste of his own bitter medicine.

He pushed a strand of hair off the flushed face and rested his hand on the boy's forehead. He couldn't be sure, but he thought the heat coming off the body was slightly less than it had been before. He prayed it was so. Buck reached behind his neck with one hand and untied the bandana he wore. He held one end of it against the mouth of the canteen and poured a little water onto it and began wiping the boy down, hoping to bring the fever down even more. He worked in silence for several minutes and then felt a slight stirring in the child's lax muscles. Buck kept up the soothing wash, carefully watching the boy's face. His vigilance was finally rewarded when the child's eyelids fluttered and then opened, blinking for a few seconds as his eyes became accustomed to the light from the fire.

"Hello there, little Pard," Buck smiled down at the child and stated softly, "Good to have you back with us."

Blue eyes stared into blue eyes as the child looked up in confusion at the stranger holding him so gently.

"It's alright, Vin," Buck told him, "No one's gonna hurt you. You're safe and so is your brother."

At the mention of Ezra, Vin's eyes flew open wide and he began to struggle weakly to escape the arms holding him. His one thought was to find his brother.

"Ezra!" Vin yelled.

Ezra had jerked his head in this brother's direction as soon as he had heard Buck address Vin, and shimmied out of Chris' lap to head to his brother's side. As Vin began to fight, Ezra reached out and caught one of the flailing hands.

"Vin, it's alright. I'm here."

Vin stopped struggling as soon as he heard Ezra's voice and grasped his brother's hand in a tight grip.

"Ezra? You okay?" Vin asked with his eyes taking a visual inventory of his brother's condition.

"I'm fine, Vin. How do you feel?" Ezra croaked out as he worriedly took his own survey of the other boy.

"Hot . . . Cold," Vin whispered.

Ezra nodded his understanding as he began to shiver again himself as he stood in the chilly barn wearing nothing but the too-large cotton shirt. Chris rose to his knees behind Ezra to rewrap the blanket around his shoulders and then, still kneeling behind the child, wrapped his arms around him and pulled him back against the warmth of his own body. Ezra leaned his weight against the man's chest and made no attempt to pull away.

Vin watched the man caring for his brother with curiosity and looked at his brother in question.

"This is Mr. Chris," Ezra told him, "and that's Mr. Buck. They found us. They have been caring for us, Vin."

Vin and Ezra seemed to share a silent communication and Vin relaxed into Buck's arms.

"I bet you could use somethin' to eat right about now, couldn't ya?" Buck asked the child as he wrapped the blanket around him and tucked the edges in securely.

"Yes, sir," Vin answered in a whisper.

"That's okay. You don't have to call me sir. My name's Buck and you're free to use it," Buck told him with a grin. "Sir makes me sound like an old man and I sure ain't that yet!"

Soon all four were sitting around the fire chowing down. Ezra had taken a seat beside Vin and was feeding himself. As much as he had enjoyed having Chris care for him while Vin was sleeping, there was no way he wanted to look like a baby in his brother's eyes. Chris had looked on knowingly when Ezra had picked up his plate and sat down beside Vin to eat but didn't remark on it.

The boys had only been able to consume about half the meal before they were yawning and having trouble keeping their eyes open. By silent agreement the men decided to leave their questions for the morning and helped the boys to bed down next to each other for the night. Since the boys were using the only dry blankets, the two regulators built up the fire to help keep them warm, and waited for morning to come. Neither man wanted to sleep in case the children should become worse during the night and need them.

The storm had finally abated, and it was a little after midnight when Vin began moaning in his sleep. Buck shifted position to sit closer to the boy and tried to soothe him by stroking his hair and telling him he was alright but the child seemed to be caught up in his nightmare.

"Nooo," he cried, "Don't hurt him! He didn't do nothin' to you! Run, Ezra, run! He's gonna kill ya, Ezra! Go! Go!"

The cries seemed to trigger Ezra's own nightmares as he began to whimper and cry out, "Don't . . . No! Vin! He's going to kill us! My fault! I'm sorry, Vin! I'm sorry! Faster, Vin! We have to go faster!"

Buck raised grim eyes to Chris and gave voice to both men's previous thoughts, "What kind of hell have these two been through?"

"I don't know, but I aim to find out," Chris stated flatly and Buck could hear the steely determination in his friend's voice, "and when I do . . . someone's gonna pay for it!"

"I reckon I want a piece of that action myself," Buck agreed darkly then both men began the task of comforting the frightened, nightmare- ridden children.

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Vin came awake slowly, feeling a little tired and wrung out, but better than he had the night before. He no longer felt chilled one minute then burning up the next like he had. He opened his eyes but kept very still, taking stock of his current situation. He was wrapped in a warm blanket, his still sleeping brother snuggled against his back. Vin could see sunlight creeping through cracks in the wooden siding of what appeared to be an old barn. He just barely remembered entering the barn. Most of the previous day just seemed to be a blur of wet and cold.

He could hear a low voice speaking behind him, but couldn't quite make out the words. He wasn't worried though. The voice had become a familiar one. There was something about that voice that made him feel good; made him feel safe. That was the voice that had pulled him back from the nightmares that had plagued his sleep. That was the voice that had crooned reassurance and comforting words that quieted his fears. That was the voice that belonged to the arms that held him so tenderly and rocked him back to sleep each time he had woken up scared. Vin smiled at the memory. He hadn't felt so cared for since the death of his mother.

"Hey! Looks who's awake," the voice said softly, and Vin looked up into blue eyes that were looking down at him and sparkling with good humor. "Morning, Vin."

"Morning, Buck," Vin smiled back and sat up, folding his crossed legs under him and pulling the blanket around his shoulders.

"How ya feelin' this fine morning?" Buck asked as he placed a hand on Vin's forehead. "Ya haven't got anymore fever."

"I'm good," Vin reassured him feeling happier than he had felt in a long time as the large man once again demonstrated his caring to the boy.

"Well that's yet to be seen, now ain't it, little Pard?" Buck joked.

Vin grinned back at the smiling man.

"If you don't MIND, some of us are trying to sleep," Ezra muttered as he turned over and pulled the blanket over his head.

Vin chuckled and said, "Don't pay him any mind. He's as ornery as a bear with a hurt paw first thing in the morning. It'll take another hour of sleep and at least two cups of coffee to have him back to his nice self."

"Well, how about some breakfast while we wait for Sleeping Beauty to wake up?" Buck asked. Stooping down to pick up the seven year old, he moved Vin around the fire to where Chris was serving up the morning meal.

"Good morning, Vin," Chris smiled at the boy.

"Morning, Mr. Chris," Vin returned shyly. He looked up at Buck for reassurance and smiled when Buck winked at him.

"Just Chris is fine," the blonde man told him.

"Morning, . . . Just Chris," Vin said, feeling brave enough to tease the black clothed man because Buck was close. He clasped his hands over his mouth as he gave into a fit of the giggles. Buck roared with laughter and the other man smiled wider, both men enchanted with the laughing seven year old.

"We got us a smart-mouthed one here . . . Just Chris," Buck chuckled as he ruffled the boy's hair in approval of his joke.

"Just what I need," Chris shook his head and glared with mock exasperation, but even the small boy could hear the good humor in his voice, "one made in your image."

"Ain't nothing wrong with my image," Buck stated still smiling. "At least not accordin' to the ladies," he finished while making his eyebrows bob up and down at the boy sitting by his side grinning.

"Don't start, Bucklin," Chris pointed a finger at him, "He's too young to be listening to your stories about women!"

"Hey, a man's never too young to start studyin' about women. There's so much to learn that the earlier ya start the better off you'll be and ya can't have a better teacher than me," Buck teased. "I know all about the little darlin's."

"Sure Buck. You go right on thinking that if it makes you feel better," Chris told his friend with a skeptical eyebrow raised. He turned to address the watching Vin, "Don't listen to anything he tells you, kid. It'll only get you into trouble later. Trust me on this one," he finished dryly.

"Ha. Ole Chris is just jealous 'cause he don't have my animal magnetism," Buck laughed and put his arm around the boy's shoulders. "You stick with me, kid. Ole Buck'll never steer ya wrong."

"You might want to ask JD for his opinion of that," Chris grinned evilly. "I think he might have a little something to say about your methods. I recall he wasn't too happy with you after you told him how to get Miss Annabelle's attention."

"Now, Chris," Buck smirked, "I was only trying to help the boy."

"Uh huh. You helped him right into a slapped face with your advice."

"But he got her attention!" Buck laughed.

"Who's JD?" Vin asked curiously, "Is that your son?"

"He . . . Heck no!" Buck caught himself mid-swear, "JD is a friend of ours. He helps us keep the peace and protect the town. That's what me and Chris do. We're regulators for the town of Four Corners."

"Really? You're the law?" Vin asked wide eyed, more impressed with his new hero than he had been before.

"Yep," Buck told him and Chris could see his old friend basking in the boy's admiration, soaking it up like rain on sun-parched ground. "Me and Chris, and JD, and two other friends, Nathan, and Josiah; we all work for the territorial judge."

"Have you stopped any bank robbers?" Vin asked in awe, almost vibrating with vicarious excitement.

"Sure. Stopped plenty of 'em at first until word got around that Four Corners wasn't a good place to try robbing folks," Buck bragged. "Nobody's been brave enough to try it for quite awhile now."

"Let's hope it stays that way," Chris said.

"What happened when they tried it?" Vin asked.

"Well the first time somebody tried to rob the bank was about two weeks after the Judge hired us to protect the town. This group of about twelve banditos come riding up from Mexico acting all tough, and looking to make a little easy money by holding up the bank . . . ," Buck began his tale slipping into full story-teller mode.

Chris shook his head in amusement and handed the boy a plate loaded with food. The child absently took it and started to shovel it into his mouth as he listened, completely caught up in Buck's tale of the regulators' daring defense of the town's only bank.

"Wow!" the enraptured little boy whispered staring up at the big man when he finished the story. "Weren't you scared?"

"Nah," Buck said boldly. "I knew Chris and the boys were there to back me up. There was no way I was gonna let some old banditos make us look bad the first month on the job. I got a reputation to protect, you know."

"You must be the bravest man there ever was!" Vin told him with admiration radiating from his shining eyes.

"Well now," Buck answered with pseudo-modesty, "I wouldn't go so far as to say that. I'm sure there are a few other men out there that would have done the same."

"I think I better go find the shovel," Chris remarked dryly and threw his friend a mocking look over the little boy's head. "I think the manure is starting to get a little deep in this barn."

"I can help," Vin turned and told the blond man, eager to show his new heroes just how capable he was, and completely missing the joking by-play between the two old friends. "I'm real good with horses, and I know how to muck out the stalls. I'm a real hard worker, honest!"

Buck leaned down and put an arm around Vin's shoulder and hugged the boy. Buck smiled at him saying, "I bet you are, but why don't you let Chris and me take care of the horses for right now. You just got over being sick and we wouldn't want you to get sick again from tryin' to do too much too soon. There'll be plenty of time for that later."

Chris looked at his friend in surprise when the man's last words registered. He was just thinking he'd have to caution Buck about letting the child believe he would be staying with them for long when Ezra shuffled up and joined them by the fire.

"May I have some coffee, please, Mr. Chris?" he mumbled as he dropped to the ground to sit near Chris.

Vin grinned and looked at Chris slyly before telling his twin, "Just Chris. That's what he said he likes to be called."

Ezra and Vin stared at each other and Chris could see another silent message being exchanged then Ezra looked up at him with an angelically innocent face and said, "May I please have a cup of coffee . . . Just Chris?"

Buck and Vin howled and Chris hooked an arm around Ezra's neck and pulled the now giggling boy close enough to ruffle his hair with the other hand.

"I'm going to shoot the next person that calls me Just Chris!" he threatened them with a mock growl then joined in the laughter.

FOUR

The two regulators let the boys finish breakfast and carried the blanket wrapped children to the ramshackle, but still serviceable, outhouse before they finally settled each boy on the bedrolls and gently, but firmly, demanded some answers.

"Would you like to tell us how you wound up here?" Chris asked, watching as the boys involuntarily stiffened in response to his question. The happy light in their eyes that had been kindled with the early morning teasing was extinguished in an instant. Chris felt something inside his chest tighten at the loss.

Both men could easily read the indecision in the body language and expressions of the children. Vin glanced at Ezra, wondering just how much of their story they should tell the men that had taken such good care of them when they were sick. Vin looked from Buck to Chris and then back to Ezra. If he had only himself to consider he knew he would have poured out everything to Buck, trusting that the big man with the gentle hands, and voice like warm butter and honey could make it all right somehow. But it wasn't only him. He had to think about what was right for Ezra too. Vin knew Ezra was better at figuring out a person's motives than he was. This has been proven time and time again on their journey. It had to be up to Ezra to decide how much of their sorry tale to tell, and both boys realized it.

Ezra gazed at the two men waiting patiently for them to begin explaining, and had never felt such a conflict in his life. The training his father and stepmother had drilled into him since he was able to talk ran smack up against an unbelievably strong need to spill out the whole sordid mess to the men that he had instinctively trusted to help him and his brother last night. He could read nothing in either man's face to make him think they had any motives other than a sincere desire to help, but the one rule that had been drummed into him over and over was never give a lawman the truth about anything if you could possibly help it. For one of the few times in his short life, Ezra was speechless with indecision.

Chris watched the chestnut haired child silently struggle and felt an unexpected flash of pain at the thought that the boy might not trust him after all. He didn't stop to analyze why it was so important to him that Ezra have faith in him, he just accepted that it was. He really shouldn't have been surprised at the feeling though. During the long, sleepless night something unusual, and frankly unsettling, had happened to Chris as he had held and comforted the sick little boy. Holding Ezra in his arms as he had rocked him back to sleep, using the same words and tone of voice he had once used to soothe away another little boy's nighttime fears had caused long-buried feelings and instincts to bubble to the surface. He repeatedly had to remind himself during the night that the little boy with the angelic face and ancient eyes didn't belong to him....because some deeply hidden, instinctual part of Chris had determinedly insisted that he did. Chris' emotions had been counterpoised: part of him had wanted to smile and laugh for joy at finding something that had been missing, but another part of him wanted to run away in fear from the pain that he would be risking by getting involved with another child. However, the more time he spent with Ezra, the more the balance had shifted bit by bit toward the boy. Now, despite all of Chris' long lectures to himself to the contrary, Ezra mattered to him, and therefore the boy's opinion of him mattered.

Chris had been trying to be patient and let the boy come to his own decision, but couldn't seem to keep himself silent at the look of barely controlled distress that flashed across the little face.

"Ezra?" he whispered softly and tilted his head to one side to look down at the child. He didn't say anything else, but waited for Ezra to look at him.

Ezra felt his eyes pulled almost against his will to the blond man watching him. He stared at the sun-browned face and studied it closely. There were lines running beside his new protector's mouth that were proof of past pain endured, but there were also laugh lines beside his eyes. The mouth was straight and serious at the moment, but Ezra had watched it as it spoke comforting words that banished the midnight horrors that plagued his sleep, and had seen it smiling in humor. The face pulled at his emotions, but it was the hazel eyes staring back at him that captured the little boy's attention. Those eyes asked for his trust; promised to guard that trust closely and never betray it. Those eyes promised a safe harbor to weather any storm, and those eyes promised something that Ezra didn't have a name for but discovered he wanted more than anything he had ever wanted in his young life.

"Ezra?" Chris asked again softly, slowly reaching out his hand and stroking one work-roughened finger down the little cheek with a mere whisper of a touch.

Ezra instinctively leaned into the sensation and felt the dam of emotions holding back the things he wanted to speak break suddenly at the man's gentle gesture and start a flood of words flowing from his mouth.

"I was running away," he began, never looking away from the hazel eyes that watched him so closely.

Vin sighed in relief at Ezra's decision and sat forward, ready to give voice to his own experiences when his chance came. The two regulators listened in near silence as the boys took turns in relaying their travails, only asking the occasional question to clarify points of the recital.

Chris had never had to work so hard to control his emotions as the story Ezra and Vin told sparked an intense rage in him that demanded blood be spilt to wash away the pain and terror the two little ones had endured. The only thing that kept him from giving vent to his feelings was the need to keep from frightening the small children sitting in front of him. Chris didn't have to look at his softhearted friend to know he was having exactly the same feelings at the boy's words.

Like Chris, Buck sat beside the two boys, who had somehow managed to burrow deep into his heart in the short amount of time since he and Chris had found them, and listened to the terrible recitation with his fists clenched and his jaw grinding in fury. Drawing in deep breaths, he fought to rein in the terrible temper that wanted to lash out and hurt those responsible. The fact that the seven year olds had run for their lives from the very people that should have been taking care of them made his rage boil and steam like a hot spring.

He looked at the two boys who should have been safe in the loving arms of family - getting into the kind of innocent trouble children their age usually got into - instead of riding alone in the wilderness trying to survive. He could only thank God that the children had managed to make it safely to this place. Buck had lived too long in the West not to be aware of all the myriad disasters that could have befallen the two brave little boys. They must have had a guardian angel watching over them to have made it as far as they did.

As the son of a prostitute, Buck was familiar with the depths of perversion that his fellow men were capable of so he caught on before Chris to exactly what vileness Ezra's stepmother had planned for him. Buck was a man that adored and respected women, but he vowed that if he ever got his hands on one Maude Standish he would guarantee the woman would never forget it. After viewing the evidence of the long term abuse that Vin had been subjected to, Buck could only wish Justin White a long, and pain-filled death. He knew Chris would be only too happy to help him extract justice for the child's treatment if White should ever come after the children again.

The boys finally wound up their tale, and fell silent. Their gazes slid back and forth between both men as they waited for their reaction. Buck pasted a smile on his face and he made a deliberate effort to relax before he spoke.

"Well, it sounds like you two have had a rough time of it," he said and rose to go sit between the children, putting an arm around each boy and pulling them closer to him, "but you don't have to worry any more. Chris and I will make sure nothing bad happens to you now. "

Chris tried to tell himself he should object to Buck's assumption that they would be assuming guardianship of the seven year old twins . . . but somehow when he looked down at the two faces looking back at him with such yearning hope shining out of them the scales tipped a little further in their favor. He just couldn't make the words pass his lips.

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Vin halfheartedly drew the letters of the alphabet that Ezra had been teaching him in the dirt of the barn floor with his finger. The boy really wanted to be up helping Buck take care of the horses, but he and Ezra had been told to stay on the bedrolls and not run around, their new guardians afraid they were not completely over their chills. Vin flashed a glance up at his twin and knew Ez was just as eager to be with Chris. The blond man was in the process of saddling his horse, planning to ride out and look for some fresh game to feed the group.

"Ez?" Vin whispered.

Green eyes broke their stare from the black clad gunslinger and Ezra looked back at his brother, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Do you think they're really gonna let us stay with 'em?"

Vin was almost afraid to believe it because he wanted it so badly. He had almost convinced himself that he had heard Buck wrong.

"I don't know," Ezra whispered back, "but that's what it sounded like to me."

Vin grinned in relief and answered, "That'd be great, wouldn't it! We could maybe be gunfighters and protect the town too. You think?"

Ezra threw a look back at the two busy men and shrugged.

"Somehow I doubt they could be persuaded to allow us that privilege . . . IF they are indeed planning to let us stay with them."

Vin was not the only one who badly wanted to remain with the two men, but Ezra had always been cautious about wanting things too badly. His stepmother had taught him too well that the things you wanted too much could be used by someone to control you. Ezra had gotten to the point where he tried not to let himself want anything, but he couldn't deny the overwhelming desire he felt to stay with Chris and his friend.

"Do you think maybe if we're real good, and show 'em how hard we can work that they'd want to keep us?"

"I don't know, Vin!" Ezra said irritably.

Vin ducked his head and said, "Sorry, Ez."

Ezra sighed and reached out to clasp his hand over Vin's and whispered his apology, "No, I'm sorry, Vin. I shouldn't have snapped at you that way. You didn't do anything but ask the same question I have asked myself, but I can give you only the answer that I gave myself: I don't know. I wish I did, but I don't. I, too, would like to know the secret of how to gain their affections, to make them want to retain their guardianship of the two of us, but . . . " Ezra finished with a despondent shrug.

"You sound like you're givin' up before the hunt even starts," Vin punched his brother's shoulder fondly. "You can't catch a rabbit if you don't get out and set your traps."

Ezra looked at his grinning brother and asked, "What are you suggesting?"

"We just gotta show 'em how much better off they'll be if they keep us."

Ezra's eyes narrowed as he studied his twin, seeing the wheels starting to turn in the blond boy's head.

"What exactly do you have in mind?"

Vin's grin got even wider as he put his head closer to his brother's and started to whisper in his ear.

7777777

"We're two men alone, without wives, or sisters, or mothers. We have no real home to take them too. We have dangerous jobs that could get us killed any day we go to work. So you tell me, Buck, just what do you think we're gonna do with them?" Chris whispered angrily, tightening the cinch on his saddle with a jerk, all the while trying hard not to let the twins hear the heated discussion that had started almost immediately after they had moved away from the boys.

Buck and Chris had fed, watered and brushed down the three horses in the stalls all the while quietly arguing about the advisability of keeping the boys. Buck naturally wanted to jump right in and claim them and to hell with the consequences, and Chris tried to show his impulsive friend the impossibility of it. Chris was fighting himself as well as Buck when he argued that they couldn't keep the kids.

"Raise 'em," Buck whispered back firmly in answer to Chris' question, "Love 'em. Keep 'em safe."

"And how do you expect us to do that? We live in a boarding house, Buck. What should we do, get them a room? And what about when we're working? Who's going to watch them? Maybe we should just set up a schedule for watching them like we do for patrols," Chris hissed.

Buck stared at the blond for a second and realized that hadn't just come out of thin air. He knew now that no matter what his friend said, whether or not he was even aware of it himself yet, Chris had already begun to study on ways and means of keeping the boys. Buck felt that hard knot of tension in his gut that had gathered when he thought about giving up the boys start to relax. He knew from years of experience that when Chris started planning . . . well, things started happening.

"Appears you've already been givin' it a lot of thought. That sure sounds like a good plan to me."

Chris jerked his head up to glare at his ginning friend, "I was being sarcastic!"

"Maybe you were," Buck told him, "but it still sounds like something that's workable. Come on, Chris, you and I both know it's only gonna take one look to have Nathan, Josiah and JD falling for those two like leaves in autumn. The first time either of those boys flash those dimples at the womenfolk in town they'll be fallin' all over their sweet selves to help out. I doubt we'll ever have a shortage of willin' hands when it comes to those two, and it's not like they're babies needin' their drawers changed every ten minutes. Those two are already pretty good at taking care of themselves."

"They shouldn't have to!" Chris spit out harshly.

"Yep, you're right about that, pard," Buck agreed as he went in for the kill, "that's where WE come in."

Chris was being pulled in opposing directions once again. His common sense was doing battle with his emotions . . . and for once common sense was losing.

"I'm going hunting," Chris growled, and led his horse out the open barn door then climbed into the saddle, effectively putting an end to the discussion. He called out a goodbye to the watching boys and returned their waves then turned his horse and spurred it into a run. He didn't look back at Buck. He didn't have to because he knew exactly what the grin on his oldest friend's face would look like as he watched Chris ride away.

The afternoon sun was making its steady decline into evening when Chris returned with a small deer draped behind his saddle. He had used the time alone to try and clear his mind but knew the day had pretty much been a waste of time. His thoughts were still in turmoil. Try as he might, he couldn't keep them from wandering to Ezra as he rode along; wondering what he was doing, if he had suffered a relapse of the night's illness; was he happy? If he hadn't managed to bag the deer he'd come across at a waterhole he would have called the whole day a complete bust.

"It would appear you were successful in your hunt," Ezra said as he stepped out from behind one of the barn doors and approached the gunslinger as he stepped down from his horse.

Ezra tried hard not to appear as excited and eager to see Chris as he actually was. In his experience it never paid to let someone know what you were feeling. He didn't want Chris to know that he had spent most of the day anxiously watching for his return. He didn't realize that Chris could look into his bright eyes and read his feelings like an open book.

Chris turned at the sound of the boy's voice and felt a warmth of tenderness fill him as he realized that Ezra had been waiting for him; had missed him. Even though he knew it was foolish and maybe even cruel he couldn't help grinning back at the boy and opening an arm to the child. Ezra, in an uncharacteristic display of boyishness, leapt toward the man at the invitation. Chris leaned down and swept up the boy, holding him up with an arm under the little rump while Ezra wrapped his closest arm around the man's neck.

"Yep. We'll eat well tonight," Chris assured him. "How are you feeling? Any more fever or chills today?"

Ezra shook is head vigorously and assured, "I am quite well. Thanks to your excellent care of me, I have been completely restored to health."

"That's great news," Chris told him and tossed him up slightly then caught him again. Ezra giggled and tightened his hold on the man's neck in reflex. "Best news I've heard all day."

"Considering that you have been hunting all day, I would be very surprised if it were not the only news you've had today." Ezra told him with a grin causing Chris to tickle his ribs in reply.

"What have you been up to while I was gone?" Chris asked with his own grin.

Ezra shrugged, "Nothing really. Buck wouldn't let us do much. He told us a few outlandish stories of his adventures in the west and we played cards for awhile." Ezra shook his head in affectionate amusement and said, "Buck really isn't very good at playing cards. I think he needs a lot of practice."

"Well I won't be getting it with you, that's for sure," Buck's cheerfully chagrinned voice preceded his appearance through the open barn doors, a grinning Vin at his side. "You about cleaned me out, kid. I never saw anybody so good at cards before!"

"Cleaned you out? What were you playing?" Chris asked, his amused visions of Buck sitting by the boys playing Old Maid or Go Fish popping out of existence like soap bubbles at Buck's words.

"Uh, poker," Buck replied diffidently, "They got bored with the other games."

"Let me get this straight," Chris looked at his friend in disbelief. "You played poker with two boys, two seven year old boys, and they cleaned you out?"

"No," Buck suddenly grinned back, "Ezra cleaned me out. I held my own with Vin."

"Ezra just started teachin' me," Vin muttered, "I'm gonna get better!"

"You are showing excellent progress, Vin," Ezra hastened to reassure his brother. "A few more lessons and you'll be playing like a master."

Vin straightened happily at the news and looked up at Buck with a smug look as if to say, "Just you wait."

"You got cleaned out by a seven year old," Chris stated, his eyes starting to glow with humor and near-silent chuckles starting to shake his body.

"You don't have to make it sound so bad," Buck groused.

"You got cleaned out by a seven year old," Chris repeated and started to laugh in earnest. He let Ezra slide to the ground, afraid he might drop the child because he was laughing so hard.

"Hey, the kid's really good! I'd like to see you do any better," Buck snarled at his friend who was now bent over, hands on his knees to support himself as he laughed.

"You . . . got . . . wiped out . . . by a . . . seven year . . . old," Chris wheezed in between laughs.

"Cut it out," Buck growled then swiped a hand at Chris and pushed him.

Chris put out both hands in front of him to hold off further attacks from his friend as he tried to bring his laughter under control. He stood up straight and wiped a hand at his eyes where the tears had gathered in response to his spasm of humor.

"That's a good one," he chuckled. "I can't wait to see the look on JD's face when he hears this one."

"Yeah, well let's just see how either of you fare after playing against him," Buck told his friend. "We'll just see who's laughin' then."

"I'd be more than happy to give you a few pointers, Buck," Ezra told him seriously.

Buck looked down at the little boy and couldn't help but smile at the serious face looking up at him.

"That's right nice of you, Ez. I just might take you up on that."

"Give me a hand with this deer," Chris said, still chuckling occasionally as he turned and started undoing the ties that held the deer carcass in place on the back of the horse.

Buck stepped forward and both men lifted the already field dressed kill down from the horse and carried it inside the barn to set it beside the remnants of their last fire.

"Can we help?" Vin asked Buck.

"I do believe you can," Buck assured him, "Why don't you and Ezra see if you can gather some more firewood, while I cut a few steaks off this thing."

"Sure, Buck!" Vin smiled, eager to do his share, "Come on, Ezra."

Both boys took off through the barn doors at a run.

"Stay close to the barn," Chris called after them, "Don't go too far."

"Yes, sir," Ezra's voice acknowledged the command.

"They'll be alright, Chris," Buck assured him as he pulled his knife from its sheath and started slicing into the deer. "I took a look around this place and there's not much that they can get hurt on around here."

"They're little boys, Buck," Chris reminded him with a smile, "if there's one thing within a ten mile radius to get in trouble with you know the odds are they'll find it."

Buck chuckled in amusement and nodded his rueful agreement.

The twins had taken their assignment to heart and were hard at work scouting the area for any burnable material. They had started a pile where they would deposit their finds before ranging out for more. Both boys were eager so prove to the two men that they could be helpful.

"Hey, Ez," Vin's voice broke Ezra's contemplation of how to go about liberating some broken boards from an old fence.

"What is it, Vin?" Ezra asked.

"Look what I found," Vin excitedly pointed.

Ezra walked to where his twin was standing and followed his pointing finger. There by a tiny pond, the original homesteaders had planted some fruit trees. Though the homesteaders were long gone, the orange, and pear trees they had left behind had managed to survive. The boys could see a several fruits still among the branches of each tree.

"Do you think Chris and Buck would like some fruit?" Vin asked. "I bet they'd be real impressed with us and want to keep us if we managed to bring some back to go with dinner!"

Ezra looked from his brother to the tall trees and shuddered, "I don't know, Vin. That's awfully high. Do you think we could reach them?"

"Sure," Vin hasted to assure him. "If you give me a boost I can make it to the lower limbs and climb up. Then I can throw them down to you and you can catch them. It'll be easy!"

Ezra cast one more doubtful glance at the tree then shrugged his shoulders in agreement. "Alright."

Vin and Ezra positioned themselves under the orange tree. Ezra cupped his hands and allowed Vin to place his foot in them then hoisted Vin up. Vin managed to get a good grip on the overhead limb and pulled himself up until he was able to swing his leg over.

"I'm up," he said unnecessarily.

"So I see," Ezra stated sarcastically as he wiped the dirt left by Vin's shoes from his hands with his handkerchief.

Vin carefully climbed higher into the tree and reached out to pluck a nearby orange.

"Comin' down," Vin warned and tossed the orange to Ezra who reached out and caught it with both hands.

The next ten minutes was spent with Vin picking fruit and tossing it to Ezra who put it in a pile.

"Don't you think that is enough, Vin?" Ezra asked as he looked at the growing number of oranges in the pile, "I don't know if we could carry anymore back to the barn."

Vin tried to look down through the branches but couldn't see.

"Just let me get this last one," he said with his tongue peeking out of one side of his mouth in concentration as he stretched his hand out to get one more.

He leaned a little farther out, holding on to the tree branch with one hand as he tried to get the orange than stubbornly stayed just out of reach. His fingers just managed to touch the skin of the fruit when he lost his grip and started falling. His yell of fear was cut short as he fell against a branch on his way down.

Ezra watched in helpless horror as Vin bounced off one limb to another on his fast trip out of the tree and finally landed on his back with a thud on the ground in front of him. Ezra stood stunned for moment then he rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside his brother.

"Vin! Vin," Ezra yelled as he shook the other boy.

Vin's eyes opened and stared at Ezra in panic as he couldn't get his breath.

"CHRIS! CHRIS!" Ezra yelled in fear, "Help, Chris! Buck, help!"

Inside the barn the two old friends jumped up and ran from to the door as they heard the boy's frantic cries for help. They stopped to listen, trying to get a bearing on the boy's position from his voice, and Buck yelled, "That way!" and took off running, Chris right on his heels.

All Buck could think about was the fact that it was Ezra's voice calling for help . . . not Vin's. His heart froze in terror at the thought that something could have happened to the child. The men followed the sound of the frightened little voice and burst on to a scene that made their blood run cold.

Ezra was kneeling by the silent Vin, tears streaming down his face, and holding Vin's hand in his own. As they approached they could see Vin was struggling to breathe. Buck flew to the little boy's side and touched his head gently.

"What happened?" he questioned urgently.

"Vin was getting some oranges from the tree," Ezra sobbed, "and then he fell. He won't say anything. Help him, Buck. Make him alright!"

Chris pulled the sobbing child into his arms and tried to comfort him as Buck examined the child on the ground.

Buck made a quick check for broken ribs then lifted the boy and slipped behind him, letting the child lean on his chest as he started to rub soothing circles on the boy's stomach.

"It's alright, Vin," Buck assured him, "you just got the wind knocked out of you. Don't try so hard, and just relax. It's gonna be alright. Just take it slow."

Buck's soothing voice had its usual calming affect on the boy and Vin relaxed enough to be able to draw in air to his starved lungs. Vin turned in the arms that held him and threw his own arms around Buck's neck, holding on tight and started to sob out his fear.

"It's okay, little one," Buck crooned as he rocked the child, "I've got you. You're alright. Everything's fine now."

As Buck soothed and petted the boy, Chris wiped the traces of tears from Ezra's face and tried to reassure him.

"There, you see. Vin is fine. I'm sure that was very scary but it's over now. Everything's alright and back to normal."

"I thought . . . ," Ezra hiccupped, a few stray tears rolling down his pale cheeks, "I thought Vin was going to die."

"Vin isn't gonna die, son. He just got a good scare and the breath knocked out of him. I've had it happen to me several times. It wasn't pleasant, but I survived it. Vin will too. What do you say we pick up the oranges you boys found and take them back to camp while Buck sees to Vin?"

Casting a final look at Vin over Chris' shoulder, Ezra nodded and wiped his eyes then helped the man pick up the fruit and carry it back to the barn. Chris looked back at Buck and tossed his head toward the barn to let his friend know he would meet him back there and Buck nodded silently in agreement.

Vin's cries were slowing but the boy remained firmly wrapped around Buck. Buck, who didn't feel any need to rush the child out of his arms, stroked the blond hair of the child as he continued to rock him gently. Eventually Vin quieted and Buck eased him down to sit in his lap.

"Are you alright besides getting winded? Does it hurt anywhere?"

Vin shook his head but kept his head downcast. Buck watched the top of the little head then gently reached down and lifted the boy's chin with one finger, forcing Vin to look at him. The wet, red-ringed eyes tore at Buck's soft heart and he reached out and wiped a stray tear away.

"I'm glad you're alright," Buck whispered, "you scared me somethin' awful."

Vin looked at him in surprise.

"I would have been real unhappy if anything had happened to you."

"Really," Vin asked, hardly believing he had found someone besides Ezra that would care if he was hurt.

"Really," Buck said seriously. "I never want anything bad to happen to you, Vin. I'm gonna try my best to make sure that nothing ever does, to you and Ezra both."

"Are . . . are we gonna come live with you?" Vin whispered, hardly daring to give voice to the thought.

Buck grinned and said, "Well if I have any say in it you will," and then stopped smiling and faced him seriously. "I think you're old enough to realize that we don't always get what we want in this life. From what you've told me you've had that lesson drilled into you. I never want to lie to you Vin, so I'm gonna be up front with you. I want to keep you and your brother for always, but there are going to be problems that will need to be worked out; people that might object to it up to and including your grandfather. I can't guarantee you that things will work out the way we want them too. I can't promise you right now that it's gonna ever end up that way. I can promise you to do everything in my power to make it so. Do you understand what I'm trying to say to you?"

Vin studied the man watching him with a yearning on his face that the child instinctively recognized as matching his own. Vin reached out and ran his palm down the tanned face and smiled.

"I understand, Buck," Vin told the waiting gunslinger. "I know you'll do your best. That's enough for me. It's more than I ever had before."

Buck swallowed against the lump that formed in his throat and hugged the boy tightly.

"Why don't we get that firewood and go start supper?" Buck said as he released the boy.

The two wandered around the homestead gathering more wood to add to the pile the boys had started, Vin never straying far from his protector's side until they had what Buck declared was enough and returned to the barn. Chris had started another fire using the remnants of wood from the pile Buck had made the previous night. Ezra was busy peeling a few oranges and pulling the fruits into sections that he placed on tin plate. Both looked up with relief when Buck and Vin returned with their arms full of firewood.

Vin dropped his load on the pile and joined Ezra and they began talking quietly together, Ezra wanting to determine for sure that Vin was alright.

Buck unloaded his arms of all but a few pieces of wood that he laid on the fire as he joined Chris.

"I was wrong," Chris looked at his friend seriously and Buck cocked an eyebrow in question, "I forgot there were two of them. They could find trouble in a twenty mile radius."

Chris' mouth pulled into a grin and Buck smothered a laugh, but couldn't stop an answering grin from stretching across his face.

7777777

The heat of the noon sun was starting to force most people indoors when JD noticed the riders slowing making their way to the livery stable. He was sitting in front of the church where Josiah was planing a stair railing when he spotted the two missing regulators. The men were two days overdue and the remaining lawmen had been starting to worry.

"They're back!" JD threw over his shoulder at Josiah as he jumped up and took off at a fast clip to the livery.

Josiah looked up, following JD's rapidly retreating figure and sighed in relief for the lost lambs' return to the fold.

He threw the tool in his hand down and swiftly followed JD. His progress was slowed by his surprise as he watched a grinning Buck hand an equally grinning blond haired boy down to JD and then throw his leg over his horse and dismount.

Another child, this one with reddish brown hair, was being helped down from another horse by the group's leader. Josiah shook his shock off and continued his way to his friends.

"Welcome home, brothers," Josiah's voice boomed out his welcome. "It seems you came home with a little more than you left with."

Buck laughed and slapped the big man's shoulder in appreciation of the understatement.

"We surely did, Josiah. Found us a couple of half-drowned kittens," Buck said and reached down to ruffle Vin's hair.

"I ain't no kitten," Vin said indignantly.

Buck grabbed the boy up and tickled him. Vin wiggled and screamed and giggled at the man's treatment.

"Well you sure looked like one when we found you," Buck teased then shifted the boy to his hip. "Boys this here's Vin Tanner and his brother Ezra Standish. Vin, Ezra say hello to Josiah Sanchez and that one with the funny hat is JD Dunne. "

"Buck," JD growled in exasperation at the introduction.

"Nice to meet you Vin, Ezra," Josiah nodded at each in turn.

"A pleasure, Mr. Sanchez," Ezra assured him as he confidently approached the giant of a man and stuck out his hand.

Josiah bend down and shook the offered hand seriously, biting back the shout of laughter that threatened to escape. The child was adorable. He could already see half of the town's women falling for that charming manner.

"Howdy, Mr. Sanchez," Vin wiggled out of Buck's arms, came behind his twin, and offered his hand following Ezra's example with a shy grin. Josiah could see where the other half of the town's women would be falling.

"How do you do, Mr. Dunne," Ezra repeated to the bemused young man watching the two boys.

JD shook himself out of his stupor long enough to return each boys' greeting and handshake.

"Sounds like you boys have to some talking to do," the voice of Nathan Jackson reached them as the man walked up and joined the group.

Introductions were exchanged again and then Chris drew their attention.

"Let's get the horses taken care of and get out of this sun then we'll tell you all about it. Anything happen while we were gone?"

While the peacekeepers related the usual goings on around the busy little town, Chris, Buck and the two boys made swift work of unsaddling the horses and brushing them down. JD had tried to step in to help the boys but had been quickly, but politely, rebuffed. The twins, acting as a team, were actually able to beat the grown men at the job and stood by waiting patiently for them to finish, grinning to each other in triumph at their accomplishment.

"Good job, boys," Chris told them with a smile and both boys stood a little straighter at the praise. "I don't know about you, but lunch sounds really good to me right now. How about we head over to the restaurant and grab a table?"

"I could eat," JD affirmed.

"Heck we know you could, JD," Buck teased, "You could eat for an hour, get up and walk around the table, sit down and be ready for another whole meal!"

"Awh, you're just jealous because you can't eat your fill like me without losing your 'Manly figure' and getting fat," JD threw back with a smirk. "Speaking of which, you better cut down on the biscuits, Buck, 'cause I think you're 'Manly figure' is about to drop over the top of your belt."

"Why you little . . . com'ere boy! I'm gonna teach you some more about respecting your elders," Buck yelled in mock anger, and, with a laughing holler, took off after the grinning man.

Ezra and Vin looked at each other. Vin grinned and took off after the pair. Ezra just shook his head and looked up a Chris.

"Are they always like that?" he asked.

Chris nodded ruefully, "Usually. Sometimes they're worse."

Ezra sighed then replied, "I was afraid of that. This may take some getting use to."

"They do have their good points," Chris said seriously, although each one present could see the laughter in his eyes.

"For example?" Ezra played along.

"Well . . . ." Chris made show of scratching his head in thought, " . . . they're clean . . . usually anyway, and . . . ah . . . they love their horses."

"I suppose some good can be found in anyone . . . if you look hard enough," Ezra agreed.

Chris couldn't keep his straight face anymore and swooped down with a laugh to pick up the boy who was now smiling up at him. JD yelped about that time and they all turned to see a laughing Vin wrapped around the sheriff's leg while his smiling mentor had JD in a headlock rubbing his knuckles over the top of their captive's head.

"No fair," JD tried to indigently shout over his own laughter, "Two against one!"

Josiah watched the bi-play and got even more curious about the story behind the appearance of the two children. He had seen more good humor showing on his leader's face in the last few minutes than was usually seen in a several days, and Buck's normal ebullience had been even more in evidence than usual. That both were the direct result of the boys' presence made for a tale that Josiah was determined to hear as soon as possible. It looked like things in their little corner of the world were about to get interesting . . . really interesting.

FIVE

Josiah pounded the nails into the wood of the door frame with awesome force. It only took one blow from the man's hammer to drive the nails completely into the frame. Josiah was pretending that each nail was the face of one of the people that had hurt the twins. After listening to Chris and Buck tell the boys' story over lunch, Josiah had felt the need to retreat and take his anger at the boy's mistreatment out on a few inanimate objects. Although he had traveled extensively and seen much suffering and hardship in his lifetime, the deliberate abuse that the children had been forced to suffer struck a chord within the big man that made his blood boil. Watching those boys as they consumed lunch sitting so trustingly between the two hardened gunslingers that had stumbled upon them, laughing and teasing the two grown men fearlessly, Josiah couldn't help but wonder what hand fate was dealing the little ones . . . and the big ones, he thought with a smile.

It was readily apparent to anyone with brains enough to look that both men were smitten with the children. Josiah admitted to himself with a smile that after only one afternoon in their presence he was already halfway to being smitten himself. There was just something intrinsically loveable about the twins.

He shook his head over that one. That had been a surprise. He couldn't image two less likely people to be born twins than Ezra and Vin. The two were so totally different, but at the same time so strangely alike. They were like two sides of the same coin, showing different faces of one being. It would be interesting to see how their relationship grew over the years. Josiah jerked his thoughts to a stop on realizing that he was assuming the boys would still be with them in the future to be observed.

"You need some help with that hammerin'," Nathan's voice broke into his musings. "I feel like poundin' somethin' today."

Josiah grinned knowingly at his friend and replied, "Amen, brother. I felt that very same need myself, and I imagine for exactly the same reason."

"It just ain't right for anybody to treat them boys like that," Nathan simmered. "Nobody deserves that kind of treatment, but especially not innocent children."

"You're preaching to the choir, Nathan," Josiah said.

After lunch, Nathan had checked the boys over to make sure they were healthy. It hadn't taken much persuading because both men were eager to have the healer tell them the children were alright. The protests of Ezra and Vin had been gently overcome and Nathan had escorted the children and the two men to his clinic where he had made a thorough examination of both boys and pronounced them fit.

Nathan shook his head in anger and told his friend, "You didn't see that boy's back, Josiah, but I did. A person don't get marks like that from just one beatin'. There were scars on top of scars. And the other one . . . while he don't have the marks of beatin's I found several places with burn marks. I recognized 'em from when I was still a slave. One of the overseers on the plantation where my family was sold liked to put the end of his burning cigar on anybody who didn't move fast enough to suit him. Those same burns marks are on the second boy. All he'd say about them when I asked was that sometimes his stepmother got impatient with him. I just . . . just . . . " Nathan sputtered in his anger.

Josiah silently handed the angry man the hammer and a nail. Nathan grabbed both and started pounding the nail into the doorframe. Josiah kept handing him more nails and Nathan pounded until he'd worked up a sweat and worked out enough anger to speak clearly again.

"You realize, from what Chris and Buck told us, those two aren't safe," Nathan said throwing the hammer down and wiping the perspiration off his brow with his sleeve.

"I know. If their grandfather finds out where they are he's sure to try and kill them before they have a chance to provide any evidence that might lead to prison or a rope around his neck," Josiah agreed.

"And that stepmother don't sound like the type to meekly let him go free, especially if she made a deal with a hard customer like the one Ezra described. I seen his kind before. That no- good dog's gonna want what he paid for," Nathan ground out in disgust.

Josiah nodded solemnly and both men fell silent.

"It just ain't right," Nathan sighed.

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The sound of boyish giggles preceded JD's entrance into the roomer's parlor of the boardinghouse where the town's regulators stayed. The group had retired to the room after dinner to relax, the regular nightly visit to the saloon passed up for the chance to stay with the twins. After dinner JD had volunteered to get the boys ready for bed and the three had disappeared into the room that Chris had acquired for the two boys. The sound of laughter and bodies bumping into furniture coming from the room attested to the difficulty JD had getting both boys out of their clothes, washed up and into their nightshirts. Chris was getting ready to intervene when he heard the door open and JD start down the hall with the twins. JD had a squirming, laughing boy under each arm and a huge smile on his face as he hauled the boys around like feed sacks.

JD plopped the twins on their feet and the boys ran inside to say their goodnights. Chris couldn't help but smile. The boys stood before the group looking like little angels that had snuck out of heaven, but it only took one look at JD's rumpled appearance to tell that their halo's were crooked. One side of the young sheriff's shirt was pulled almost completely from his trousers, and one suspender was hanging off his shoulder. His thick black hair was disheveled and small, wet handprints could be seen all over the legs of his pants.

"Have you boys been giving JD a hard time?" Chris said sternly, at least he tried to say it sternly, but the grin that kept wanting to sneak out probably ruined the effect.

Both children went still as they watched the blond man's face, trying to decide if they had gone too far and were now in trouble. The memories of past reactions from angry adults flashed through their little minds. Neither boy was entirely secure in their new living arrangement yet so neither knew what to expect from these new adult caretakers when they were irritated. They didn't know whether it was better to stay or to run, but before they could decide, Chris' grin peeked out and both boys relaxed in relief.

"Nah," JD reassured everyone, ruffling the boys´ hair as the spoke, "They were good as gold, Chris. We were just playin' is all."

"Un-huh," Chris looked skeptically at his youngest regulator who grinned back unashamedly as he tried to cover for the twins. Chris opened his arms and the two boys ran and climbed into his lap.

"Where's Buck?" Vin asked looking up at Chris in question.

"Buck's taking a turn around the town to check on things before we settle in for the night," Chris assured him. "He'll be along in a little while."

"Oh," Vin dropped his head in disappointment.

"Don't worry. He said he'd be back to say goodnight," Chris assured him.

"He said he'd tell us a story before we went to bed," Vin stated forlornly.

"And I always keep my promises," Buck said as he stepped into the parlor, still slipping his coat off.

"Buck!" Vin smiled and his face lit up.

"Who's ready to hear the story of Mean Bob Bryan and the bear?" Buck grinned as he tossed his coat over the back of a chair and rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

Vin popped off Chris' lap and flew to Buck yelling, "Me! Me!"

Ezra was torn between wanting to stay seated with Chris and hearing the story. Chris made it easy for him.

"Come on, Ezra," Chris said and rose to this feet with the child in his arms, "Let's get you tucked in so Buck can start his story. I haven't heard this one for a long time."

The two boys called their goodnights to the rest of the regulators as they were carried from the room. Ezra snuggled against Chris's shoulder as the man carried him down the hall and slipped into his room, Buck following behind with Vin. Chris pulled back the covers on the bed and set Ezra down, pulling the covers back up to his chin and tucking them around him carefully. When he was finished, Chris sat on the bed beside Ezra and waited for Buck to finish putting Vin in the bed beside his brother. Buck sat by Vin's side as the boys watched him with expectant gazes.

"Well, I once met this old man that went by the name of Mean Bob Bryan. Now Mean Bob, he come by his name honestly. I swear you never met a man meaner that Mean Bob," Buck began.

Chris watched as Buck captured both boys' imaginations with his tale and smiled as they each tried to fight off sleep to listen. Try as they might, the long day eventually caught up with the boys and they succumbed, Ezra falling first, and Vin only a few minutes behind him. Both men sat beside the children and watched them sleep for a few moments before reluctantly rising. Buck turned the wick on the oil lamp down to where it was just barely burning and the two men made their way out of the room. Chris gently pulled the door shut behind them.

"They get down alright?" Nathan asked when the men returned to the parlor.

Buck nodded, "They went out like a candle in a wind storm."

"Hard day for them," Josiah interjected.

"More like a hard life for them," JD said looking at his friends gravely.

"I'm afraid you have the right of it, brother," Josiah said sadly.

"They're not out of the woods yet," Buck stated while making eye contact with the other regulators. "If that grandfather of theirs or Ezra's stepmother gets wind that they're here . . . "

"They could be in danger," JD finished.

"Then we have to make sure that they don't get wind of it," Chris told them.

"You planning on keeping them, Chris?" Nathan asked.

"For now," was all Chris was willing to admit. He threw out a hand to stop Buck's protest. "We have more important things to discuss right now. Their safety comes first. We need to come up with a plan to guarantee that first, and then we'll worry about the rest of it.

The first thing that I can see is to make sure that they're not left alone," Chris said looking around and seeing the other men nod in agreement. "One of us needs to be with them all the time. They're both still so small that it would be easy for someone to snatch them up and smuggle them out of town. So from now on if we're not on patrol or jail duty then we're watching the boys. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Buck said firmly.

"I'm in," JD said seriously.

"Agreed," Josiah and Nathan chorused together.

"That brings up another question," Josiah intoned, "how are we supposed to keep the news of the boys away from their relatives? People do love to talk."

"Let 'em!" Chris decreed, "They can talk all they want to as long as they don't know the truth, but we don't say anything. Nothing about the boys' past goes beyond this room."

"Somehow I don't see Mrs. Travis being willing to let it lie," Nathan warned.

"She can wonder all she wants, but she won't have anything if we don't tell it to her, and since we're not going to leave the boys alone whoever is with them will be responsible for not letting her close enough to get any information from them."

"Do you really think that will work?" Josiah asked skeptically.

"It's none of her business and you can tell her I said so," Chris ground out. "We are not at liberty to discuss the situation with her. That's our official stance. If she has a problem with that then she can take it up with me."

Josiah let the subject drop, knowing that once his leader used that tone of voice that the subject was closed, but still thought Chris was being a little naïve when it came to the newspaper woman. Not for one minute did the ex-preacher see Mary Travis being content to let something like this lie just because Chris declared that it wasn't any of her business. Nuh-uh, no way was that gonna happen. Josiah sighed to himself. He could see a lot of trouble for the two orphan boys and some disillusionment for Chris in the future. He knew Chris had something of a soft spot for Mary . . . Josiah just wished that in this case that soft spot wasn't in his head!

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The gentle breeze blowing through the open window ruffled the edge of the light curtain framing it. Ezra looked up from the book he was reading as the motion caught his eye and then returned to his story. He was stretched out comfortably on the settee in the parlor of the boarding horse while Vin entertained himself on the parlor rug with the wooden soldiers Chris and Buck and whittled for them. Josiah was snoozing in a chair by the door, his arms crossed on his chest and his long legs stretched out in front of him crossed at the ankles. Rumbling snores emerged from his mouth periodically.

In the week since the boys had arrived in Four Corners the seven members of the group had developed a happy little routine All the peacekeepers not on duty would join the boys for breakfast, a rowdy but entertaining affair from Ezra's viewpoint. Then the twin's day was spent with one of more of the men in a variety of activities.

So far they'd been fishing with Buck (an activity Vin found more interesting than Ezra), riding with JD, and hunting with Chris. Chris had also given them a few lessons in whittling that Ezra enjoyed immensely (mostly because it let him spend extra time with Chris). Josiah had joined Ezra in tutoring a swiftly improving Vin in his reading. Nathan had taken them with him one afternoon and allowed them to help him harvest herbs and flowers for his healing potions, although the boys spent more time chasing each other than they did actually hunting for the plants Nathan showed them. Judging by the big smile on Nathan's face as he had watched them, he didn't seem to mind too much. JD had allowed them to go through all the wanted posters he had at the jail and the boys had spent a full two hours suspiciously studying faces on the street outside the jail trying to spot someone from the posters.

The day was usually broken up by lunch with whoever was assigned to watch the boys and any of the other peacekeepers that didn't have business to keep them away. The evening meal was once again a group affair. After dinner one or another of the men might slip off to the saloon for a drink or a hand of cards, while the rest had a quiet evening reading to the children, (or being read to by Ezra) or playing with them before bedtime. Chris and Buck, and increasingly JD, found the quiet evenings more appealing than the rowdiness of the saloon and more often than not chose to stay in with the boys of an evening.

Although unknown to the boys, Buck did slip off after the twins were in bed to do his habitual romancing of the town's ladies, but even his tom-catting had changed in the time since the boys' arrival. Where he once might have spent the whole night with his latest conquest, he now found himself bidding a cheerful goodbye and hightailing it back to his own bed every night, afraid he would not be there if the boys needed him during the night.

The twins thought they had found heaven. They were surrounded with adults that really seemed to care when they were hurt or afraid or unhappy; adults that didn't hit or yell, or lock them in closets when they were mad. For the first time in a very long time for either boy, they dared to dream about what wonders each new day would bring instead of worrying about what new ill would befall them with the next sunrise.

Ezra raised his head from his book again as he caught the faint, but now familiar tinkling sounds of spurs and the heavier sound of footsteps that signaled to him that Chris was climbing the stairs. Ezra shifted his gaze to the sleeping ex-preacher and watched as the man that was sleeping so deeply came awake with startling swiftness at the first sound of someone's approach. Ezra found Josiah's ability to come awake to full alertness so quickly a source of endless fascination since it always took Ezra a long time to shake off the affects of even the shortest nap. He wandered around groggy and irritable after sleep, and didn't understand how Josiah was able to snap to awareness the way he did. When the child had questioned him about it, Josiah had just shrugged and said it was something he learned in the Army out of necessity and hoped Ezra never had to.

Chris stepped into the room, pausing in the doorway and doing his customary scan to make sure all was well before entering fully and nodding to Josiah. Ezra closed his book and sat up on the settee, smiling at his protector in welcome.

"Chris," Ezra greeted him.

"Ezra." Chris returned and sat beside the boy. "What are you reading?"

"Mr. Sanchez . . . eh . . . Josiah," he corrected as the large man cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at the child, "loaned me a copy of Mr. Shakespeare's 'Much Ado About Nothing'. It is most entertaining," Ezra told him.

"That's good," the blond man said absently as he stroked a hand down the boy's hair.

"Is something wrong, Chris?" Ezra asked, noticing the man's preoccupation right away.

"No, Ezra," Chris smiled to reassure him, "there's nothing wrong. I was just thinking. I had an idea, but I need your help."

"My help?" Ezra stared at the man with his head tipped to one side as he pondered Chris and his words.

"I'm trying to find ways to guarantee that your stepmother can never get her hands on you or your brother ever again, Ezra," Chris told him seriously, "but I need your help because you're the only one that really knows her."

Ezra had stiffened at the mention of his stepmother and Chris reached out and pulled the tense little boy closer.

"I'm not going to let her take you away, Ezra," Chris hugged the boy tighter. "I just need you to help me a little. Can you do that for me?"

"Wha . . . what did you need me to do," Ezra stammered, his fear of his stepmother being able to rip him from the secure place he had found rising to the surface.

"I need you to tell me all you know about her, Ezra. Everything," Chris stressed. "What she looks like, how she acts. The way she does business. And most importantly everything you can remember about the swindles she's pulled in the past. Every detail you can remember will help."

"Why do you need to know?"

"So I can be prepared if she ever shows up here. If I know what crimes she has committed and where, I have ammunition to use against her. It's like buying bullets for a gun. If you're going into a battle you want to buy as many bullets as you can. It's always better to have too many than not enough, right?"

"But . . . I . . . " Ezra hung his head afraid to look at Chris.

"Ezra?" Chris asked watching the child with concern. "What's wrong, son?"

Ezra suddenly pulled out of the man's arms and ran from parlor to his room down the hall where he ran in and slammed the door shut.

Chris met Josiah's concerned gaze and shrugged.

"What just happened here?" Chris asked the man in confusion.

"He's scared," Vin's voice startled the men who had forgotten the quiet child was in the room.

"Why is he scared, Vin?" Josiah asked.

"He's scared if he tells you all that then you won't want him anymore," Vin stared straight at Chris as he spoke.

"Then he's wrong," the blond said and stared right back.

"Why would he think we wouldn't want him anymore?" Josiah drew Vin's attention once more.

"Cause of the things she made him do," Vin said sadly. "If you think she's bad then he thinks you'll think he's bad too."

"How could he think we'd hold him to blame for things he didn't have a choice about doing?" Chris replied. "He's only a boy."

"Most people would," Vin said matter-of-factly.

"Then it's a good thing we're not most people!" Chris announced firmly and rose from the settee to march out the parlor door and down the hall to the boy's room.

He knocked once quietly then opened the door. Ezra was sprawled on his stomach on the bed, his face pressed into a pillow to muffle the sounds of his crying.

"Ah, Ez," Chris whispered gently and moved to sit on the bed beside him. "Ezra, I want you to look at me," Chris said as he carefully rolled the unresisting boy over onto his back. "I want you to be able to see my face when I say this. I want you to know I am telling you the absolute truth.

I don't care about the things you were taught to do in the past. I don't care about any of the things you were made to do back then. All I care about is you, Ezra, and what happens now. Whatever you tell me about your stepmother and the things you or she did back then won't matter to me one bit, do you understand? It won't change the way I feel about you, and I am still going to want you around. Are we straight on that?"

Ezra sniffled and stared at the face of the blond gunslinger and found it unprecedentedly open. He could read the absolute sincerity behind the words Chris spoke.

"But . . . you don't know . . . " Ezra whispered.

"Nothing, Ezra," Chris told him firmly. The man stroked the tousled hair away from the tear streaked face of the child, and continued, "Nothing you tell me can make me want to send you away. I give you my word on that."

Tears filled the green eyes and Ezra launched himself into the waiting arms of Chris and hung on with all his might.

The two sat in silence for a few moments, Chris rocking them both from side to side, just enjoying their new understanding.

"Her favorite con is the cotton gin shares," Ezra whispered.

Chris settled them back against the headboard of the bed and continued to hold the child as he related all the many details he recalled about his stepmother's scams.

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To say that the boys' presence in town stirred up a little interest would be a gross understatement. Any new face in town was cause for excitement, but that the two little boys were comfortably ensconced within the ring of the town's five wild and woolly regulators had the grapevines working full blast with speculation. The only ones fully aware of the boys' sorry tale were the regulators themselves and they weren't talking.

It was driving Mary Travis crazy. A natural born busybody, her profession allowed her the freedom to snoop to her heart's content in a way that was not only socially acceptable, but actively encouraged. Her curiosity about the two children was about to eat her alive, and the five peacekeepers had made it impossible for her to get any answers. Not only were they not telling her what she wanted to know, shrugging off her questions and stating they weren't at liberty to say, but they made sure the children were never in a position for her to question them directly. There was always, ALWAYS, one of them with the children. When she tried to interrogate Chris Larabee he would only tell her it was none of her business and to leave it alone. It was enough to make a grown woman scream!

Since she had always been a determined woman, she refused to give up. She had decided to take matters into her own hands. If the five men wouldn't provide her with answers then she'd just get them from somewhere else. Her editorial on the children, complete with descriptions and requests for any information on them had been printed in this morning's paper. She sat back with a smug smile as she took a sip of her morning coffee and pulled her ledger closer so she could go over his business accounts. She was expecting a reaction from the five men . . . but not the one she got.

As she set her cup back on the table the back door to her rooms behind the newspaper office slammed back against the wall with a loud crash and four very angry peacekeepers stormed in and faced her, grim faced and almost vibrating with outrage. A startled and suddenly frightened Mary jumped to her feet and put the chair she had been seated in between her and the angry men starting at her. She gripped the chair back with white knuckled fingers and she watched as Nathan Jackson silently reached out and slammed the door shut behind them then stood in front of it with his arms crossed.

"You just couldn't keep your nose out of it, could you?" Chris Larabee growled as he stepped up and pushed his face close to hers. "We told you it wasn't any of your business, but you just couldn't leave it alone. You had to push it. Do you have any idea of what you have done? Any idea of the danger you have put those two boys in? Did it ever occur to you that there might be a very good reason why we wouldn't let anyone know anything about those two boys? Well? Did it?" Chris demanded angrily.

"How many of those papers did you sell?" Nathan broke in, "Is there anyway to get them back before anyone sees 'em?"

Mary gulped and shook her head warily, "You might be able to pick up the ones in town, but the ones on the stage left two hours ago.

Chris swore loudly and kicked one of her kitchen chairs across the room.

"The people have a right to know . . . " she began only to be cut short by an enraged Buck Wilmington.

"The PEOPLE have a right to know SQUAT when it comes to those two! Those two little boys have the right to LIVE, damn you! In my book that's a heap more important that satisfying your curiosity!" Buck glared at her.

"Surely you're exaggerating . . . " she began only to be cut off once more.

"Surely we are NOT exaggerating," Josiah ground out. "By writing what you did in your paper you have put both their lives at risk."

"I . . . I . . . didn't know . . . "

"You didn't THINK," Chris snapped. "All you saw was a story. Did you ever once give any thought to what your actions might do to those boys before you did it? You don't have to answer that because we already know the truth." Chris leaned even closer until he was almost nose to nose with her and his voice got lower and colder, "I will tell you this though, if even one hair on either of those boys' heads is hurt because of what you did, I will hold you accountable!"

Chris stepped back from the trembling woman, turned on his heel, and stalked to the door and Nathan stepped aside to let his leader pass. Chris threw the door open and charged out, the other three men following behind their leader after casting disgusted looks at her.

The shaken woman dropped into the chair again as the last of the men exited and walked away. She didn't bother getting up to close the still open door. She didn't think her knees would hold her. Mary liked to think she had a good relationship with the town's peacekeepers. They were friendly and helpful for the most part. They would occasionally balk at feeding her the information she requested for her stories but seldom flat out refused to discuss something with her. She should have realized there might be a reason for the men's actions. She had let her own curiosity and her damnable pride lead her into an act of almost criminal irresponsibility if what they said was true, if the boys really were in danger and the men were only acting to protect them.

In retrospect she could see she had made a terrible mistake. She just hoped it wasn't one that either of the young boys would have to pay for. She didn't think she could live with herself if anything happened to either one of them because of her, and she knew she'd never be able to face the five men protecting them.

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A still enraged Chris Larabee slammed through the batwing doors of the saloon and threw himself in a chair at the table that had come to be recognized by the locals as the regulators'. Inez Recillos, the owner of the saloon, slipped out from behind the bar with a bottle and a tray of empty glasses that she set on the table in silence as the three other men joined their leader. Inez slipped away quietly, alert to the men's mood like the good saloon owner that she was. She knew that whatever was bothering the lawmen was serious when Buck didn't make his usual attempt to flirt with her.

"Damn her," Chris mumbled right before he poured himself a shot of whiskey and slammed it down. "Why the hell couldn't she have just left it alone?"

"The nature of the beast, Chris," Josiah told him, "You wouldn't ask a fish to fly, or a pig to get up and dance. You can't expect Mary to be anything but what she is."

"I can expect her to think about how her actions will affect other people!" Chris ground out, reaching out to pour himself another drink only to have his hand stopped by Buck's.

"That ain't the answer, Chris. You can't afford to take out your frustrations in a bottle this time. The twins can't afford it," Buck kept his hand over his leader's and his gaze level with the blazing hazel eyes. "They need you clear headed right now, and Vin for one is already familiar enough with drunken men. He don't need to be faced with another one!"

Chris eyed his friend in anger for moment then nodded and withdrew his hand from the whiskey bottle as the truth in his friend's words registered.

"Justin White and Maude Standish are not the only ones we're going to have to worry about now. Judge Travis reads Mary's paper," Chris informed them, "When he gets wind of this, you know he's going to make a bee-line for this town just as soon as he can get away."

"You think he'd risk taking the boys away from here once he knows the danger that they'd be in?" Buck asked and worried one corner of his mustache with a finger.

"If he thought they were safer someplace else, then I reckon he would," Nathan threw in unhappily.

"So what can we do?" Buck asked looking around at the faces of his friends, "We can't just let him take 'em away. Those boys belong to us!"

"Not legally they don't," Josiah intoned and tossed back his own drink grimacing slightly as it burned down his throat. "Legally they belong to their grandfather . . . or their stepmother."

"Right now our attention should be on protecting them from those two vultures," Chris stopped any further discussion with a slap to the table. "The biggest danger to the boys right now is from them. We can worry about Travis when we have to. Besides, it's possible that if we neutralize the physical threat we'll go a long way in neutralizing the legal one."

"What do you mean?" Buck asked.

Chris looked at him levelly and said, "Dead men don't have any rights to claim anyone, and if Justin White tries to hurt either of those boys, he's gonna wind up dead."

Buck gave his leader a feral grin and nodded his wholehearted agreement to the statement.

"That still leaves Maude Standish," Josiah pointed out.

"With the information Ezra gave me we may be able to scare her away. I've already sent out a few telegrams to some of the places Ezra told me she swindled people and have gotten a couple of replies back. Judging from the responses so far, there are a lot of people eager to get their hands on the woman. If she was tried for all the crimes we know about so far she'd spend the rest of her days in prison. If she's smart, which by everything Ezra has told me she is, then she'll know it will be in her best interest to drop any claim to the twins she might have."

"You can't forget that viper that wanted Ezra," Nathan ground out. "Ain't no way he's gonna meekly give up once he's seen Ezra and especially if he already paid money on him."

"He's the biggest threat right now because he's hidden," Chris agreed. "We don't know his name or what he looks like. He could be any stranger walking down the street, so we're going to have to be extra cautious."

"So we just concentrate on protecting the twins for now," Josiah stated.

"Yeah," Chris affirmed. "From now on I want at least two of us with the boys at all times. We don't know where the enemy is right now. It could take them a day or a month to get here, so we don't take any chances. Buck, you go stay with JD and the boys right now. The rest of us will keep ours eyes open."

Buck nodded, tossed back the last sip of his drink and grabbed his hat. He stood up and quickly walked out the saloon doors, suddenly anxious to get to the twins and JD.

Chris stood up as well and looked down at the remaining regulators.

"I'm going to the telegraph office to send out a few inquiries. I want to see if I can find out where Justin White is right now. Keep your guard up," he said then turned to follow Buck from the saloon.

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Buck scanned the area again looking for anything that could signal danger and returned his gaze to the three figures crouched around a circle drawn in the dirt of the alley beside the boarding house. He had heard the excited little voices as he hurried back to the boarding house and followed them to the alley. Buck squirmed a little to get more comfortable on the wooden barrel he was sitting on and leaned his back against the wall of the boarding house as he watched the spirited game of marbles that was taking place.

JD had proudly presented each boy with a bag of marbles after breakfast and every man present had felt an interminable sadness at the stunned astonishment the boys had shown at the giving of the gifts. No child should be so amazed that someone would care enough about them to give them a something as simple and ordinary as a bag of marbles. It brought home even more to the men how little either boy knew about the everyday things of childhood that other children took for granted.

"They're really for us?" Vin had questioned in awe, pouring out the shiny round globes of colored glass from the little blue cloth drawstring bag into his hand.

"Yep," JD assured him.

"They are most attractive," Ezra replied politely as he looked into his own red bag, and JD realized Ezra had no idea what the marbles were for.

"You use them to play a game," JD informed him. "I'll teach you how later. I'm sure you'll have fun once you learn how to play."

"Back home, I seen a few boys in town playing with these," Vin looked at his brother and smiled, "It looked like they was having a really good time."

"You didn't play also?" Ezra queried.

"Nah," Vin replied matter-of-factly, "Everybody was too scared of what Grandpa would do to risk letting their kids play with me."

Buck's heart almost broke at the thought of this little boy watching other boys playing and yearning to join in but not being able to. Every story Vin told about his Grandfather served to drive another nail in the man's coffin as far as Buck was concerned.

"Well now I guess you'll get to learn what all the fuss was about," JD told him with a grin as he ruffled the child's hair fondly and received the boys' thanks.

It had been right about this time that Josiah had smothered a curse and handed the newspaper he was glancing through to Chris who had bitten off his own swear when he read the editorial that Josiah pointed out. The paper had been passed around quickly to the other peacekeepers, and they had stormed out to confront the newspaper woman. Since it had been JD´s turn for watching the boys he had naturally remained behind and had the uncomfortable task of convincing the two very mood-sensitive children that nothing was wrong.

Buck had found the threesome crouched down in the alleyway and had taken a seat on the barrel to keep watch over them as they played. None of the three noticed his presence, so engrossed were they in the lesson on how to shoot marbles. Buck had to grin as he watched Vin's face screw up in concentration as he aimed his "shooter" at a marble inside the dirt ring and flicked it with his thumb just like JD had taught him. The marble shot out from his fingers and collided with the marble he was aiming for and sent it careening out of the circle.

"I did it!" Vin clapped his hands in glee and yelled.

"You sure did," JD said and gave him a congratulatory pat on the back.

"Great job, pard," Buck called to the excited little boy.

"Buck," Vin yelled, jerking his head up in surprise as he recognized Buck's voice. He held up the marble he'd hit and said proudly, "Did you see? I did it!"

"I surely did see that. It was a great shot, son," Buck assured him with an answering proud grin on his face.

"Watch Ezra, Buck," Vin said nudging his brother to take his turn, "He's really good too!"

Ezra lined up his shot with his dexterous little fingers and managed to claim his own small victory when a marble flew from the circle.

"Way to go, Ezra," Buck congratulated him with a smile. "Looks like we got us two natural born marbles players here, JD."

"I reckon you're right about that. Never seen so much natural talent gathered in one place before," JD told the boys, pulling both to him for quick hug.

JD left the boys to practice their new skill and walked over to lean on the wall near Buck.

He threw a look over his shoulder at the boys then quietly asked, "What happened?"

Buck sighed, "We went over to Mary's and Chris cut into her something fierce. I . . . uh . . . well I guess I did to. I was just so mad at her for putting the kids in danger like that. I think we scared her good."

"But you didn't hurt her . . . right?"

"Naw," Buck reassured him. "Didn't touch her, although I thought for a minute Chris might take it into his head to strangle her," Buck finished with a grin. "I was mad enough right about then I might have let him!"

"So then what?"

Buck shrugged and took another look around before answering.

"Then we went to the saloon, and cooled off a bit. Chris decided we're gonna have to keep on our toes now. There's to be two of us with the boys all the time, that's why I came back here."

"Does Chris really think the twins' folks'll see the paper and come here?"

"The way those boys' luck is runnin' it's almost a certainty, JD," Buck said with a woeful shake of his head.

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Buck never knew just how true his words were. Unknown to any of the peacekeepers, evil had been in their midst for almost two days already. This particular evil took the form of one Joseph Rimmer, a tall, thin man in his mid-forties with patches of grey hair intermixed with his scraggly mud brown ones. His thin face was marked with an equally thin nose and thin lips. His grey eyes were small and deep set. His was a face that not even a mother could love. His own mother had proved this by abandoning him in a back street of Denver in the dead of winter when he was only five years old. He had been found, crying in terror for his mother, by the local constable when the man was on his way home from duty one evening. The officer had dropped him off at the local orphanage and forgotten about the miserable looking waif . . . and unknowingly set in motion the creation of a monster.

Joseph had cursed that man for years, believing for a time that he would have been better off if he had frozen in the street. The orphanage itself hadn't been so bad, but the director had been a depraved animal, using those children that he believed never stood a chance of adoption for his own perverted pleasure. Occasionally he would share them with his equally perverted friends . . . for a price. Although it had been close to thirty years since he had made his escape from that hall of horrors with the director's blood on his hands, there were still nights Joseph woke up screaming.

If his time in that hell had taught him anything at all, it was that he had to take care of himself because no one else would. No one had cared about the torments he had endured. No one had come to rescue him. He had affected his own escape. He was on his own. It was him against the rest of the world, and he had no intention of losing. He would do whatever he had to - use whoever he had to- without compunction or conscience to come out ahead.

His time in the depths of depravity had also taught him that people were willing to pay for their pleasures. With those two lessons under his belt Joseph had begun his lifelong campaign of getting what he considered his due by providing those willing to pay with the means of quenching their degenerate thirsts. That he preyed on the suffering of others to attain his fortunes never bothered him. The world for him had long since stopped being filled with people and had become broken down into two groups: customers and merchandise. The concept of good or evil was meaningless to him. There was only profit.

Joseph had seen a world of profit to be had in the small boy that Maude Standish had promised him. That innocent face, so childishly beautiful, with those soulful emerald eyes . . . Joseph just knew his special customers would fall all over themselves for a chance at him. He had been enraged when he had learned of the boy's flight. He had almost strangled Maude with his bare hands before she had managed to convince him that she had not been trying to con him. She had almost thrown his money back at him in her haste to return it. Joseph had left the trembling con woman and had retreated to his office, steaming over the loss of the boy. He had immediately dispatched his men to find him and been filled with rage when each had returned empty handed, but Joseph refused to give up. There was money to be made with that boy, lots and lots of money, and Joseph wanted it. The child became a kind of Holy Grail for him. He just couldn't rest until he found Ezra Standish.

It had been the merest chance that Joseph had spotted the child as he stepped out of the hotel yesterday afternoon. Joseph had been passing through Four Corners when the stage had broken down and forced a delay in the trip while it was repaired. Joseph had begrudgingly taken a room at the town's best hotel and had been heading to the restaurant when he had frozen in disbelief at the sight of the little boy he had been searching for playing tag with another little boy in an alleyway. If there had not been a huge bear of a man watching the two boys, Joseph might have been tempted to snatch the child right then and there. Luckily for Joseph, his common sense had intervened and he had spent the rest of the day observing and plotting. The child was within his reach and Joseph swore to himself that he would not leave this place without him.

SIX

"Time for bed," Chris stated firmly.

The groans of the two boys were accompanied by matching groans from Buck and JD as four sets of eyes looked up at him from the parlor rug where Buck, JD, Vin and Ezra had been engaged in a lively war acted out with the twins' set of toy soldiers.

"No buts," Chris raised his hand to forestall the protests he could see forming not only on the children's lips but the adults' as well.

Buck sighed and stood up, reaching down both hands to the boys.

"He's right. Y'all need to be in bed. We can finish this tomorrow night," Buck assured them. "You go on and say goodnight to JD."

With dragging feet the twins moved to their new friend and exchanged goodnight hugs then preceded their two guardians to their bedroom. The men tucked the boys into bed and sat beside them for Buck's story in what had become a nightly ritual for all four.

"What's this?" Chris asked as he noticed the bit of red material sticking out from under Ezra's pillow.

"My marbles," Ezra told him, pulling the bag out and showing it to the blond. "I didn't want to lose them."

Buck barked out a laugh and told him, "Yep, sure don't want to take a chance on you losing your marbles, Ez."

Ezra rolled his eyes at the man, shook his head in disgust, and gave a put-upon sigh at the man's humor.

Chris grinned at the boy's dramatics and wrapped his larger hand around the small one Ezra was using to grip the bag, squeezing gently before pushing the little hand and its contents back under the pillow.

"That's fine, Ezra," Chris told him gently, "I'm sure JD would be very pleased to know you're taking such good care of them."

"I got mine too!" Vin chirped and drug his own bag of marbles from under his pillow.

Chris smiled at the other child and reached over to ruffle the boy's blond hair saying, "And you too, Vin."

"So, are ya ready for a story?" Buck asked, one eyebrow cocked in inquiry.

Two heads nodded in unison, and two little bodies settled down more comfortably in the bed as they waited for the last stage of their nightly routine to begin. Down in the alley below the open bedroom window, deep in the shadows where light from the watch fires didn't reach, a monster lurked waiting impatiently for the time he could claim his prize.

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At first Ezra thought he was dreaming. In his dream he was in a boat floating along a peaceful river feeling weightless and lazy. It wasn't until he felt the rough cloth being forced between his sleep slackened lips that his groggy mind realized he wasn't in a dream but a nightmare. Ezra snapped awake with unprecedented speed, suddenly understanding Josiah's ability a little more clearly.

The darkness of the bedroom prevented Ezra from seeing the face of his captor but he didn't need to see him to know that this person meant him ill. As he started to struggle, he was wrapped tightly in a blanket that restricted his movements severely. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get enough leverage to hit or kick the man silently carrying him towards the open window of the bedroom. The gag that had been shoved into his mouth muffled his cries for help. Ezra found himself helpless as the shadowy man threw him over one shoulder then climbed out the open window and down the ladder that he had used to gain access to the boarding house.

His captor made his way with great stealth down the alleyway beside the boarding house and stopped at the corner of the building to cast a quick look around the corner then slipped into the inky blackness of the alley that ran behind the row of buildings. He made his way along the alley for a time, and then turned a corner into another and then another until Ezra was completely lost. Then his captor stopped by a horse tied in the shadows and untied it. The man settled Ezra more securely on his shoulder them climbed onto the horse and headed out of town. Keeping to the protective darkness of the shadows he kept the horse's pace slow so as not to draw the unwanted attention of the regulator on patrol.

Once Joseph Rimmer reached the outer limits of the town he spurred the horse forward ruthlessly, wanting to put as much distance as possible between him and any pursuers before the day broke. He didn't expect the boy's absence to be noticed for several hours, giving him plenty of time to spirit the child away. Still,

he preferred to err on the side of caution when it came to his new prize. He almost glowed with his triumph. He had DONE it! The boy was his at last! He felt like laughing out loud at his great success, thrilled with the thoughts of all the money he would make this one.

Ezra began to wiggle around again in an attempt to escape until a hard palm slapped his backside.

"Stay still, boy," the low voice warned, the implied threat clear in the growled words.

Ezra froze in terror as he recognized that voice. It was one he heard in some of his nightmares; the voice of the man that Maude had sold him to! Somehow the man had found him. Ezra thought he had found a sanctuary. He thought that he was finally safe, but here was a faceless demon come to rip him away from his new life; from his brother and his new friends. Everything he had done, everything he and Vin had been through was for nothing. Maude had won again. Tears slipped from his tightly clenched eyes and were absorbed by the blanket that covered his face.

"NO, NO, NO, NO," the screams he was unable to give voice to echoed in his head. "Help me! Vin! Chris! Buck! JD! Somebody! Please! VIN! HELP ME! VVVVVIIINNNNN! VVVVVIIINNNNN!"

Rimmer pulled his horse to a stop when he had traveled about a mile out of town and reached up to pull Ezra from over his shoulder and set the boy in front of him on the saddle. He pulled the blanket away from the little face and removed the gag, not wanting to take any chances on this merchandise choking. Ezra looked up at the face dimly illuminated by the starlight and tried desperately to control the fear that filled him.

His father had always told him that fear was the enemy. Fear muddled your thinking and led you to making mistakes. Showing your enemy you were afraid gave him an advantage that he could exploit. Edward Standish's lessons came back to his son now and Ezra fought back in the only way he could. He slipped the poker face his father had worked so diligently to teach him in place and stared back calmly at the man examining him like a prized thoroughbred horse. The boy cautiously tried moving his arms and legs but although there was now slightly more give to the blanket binding him, he was unable to do more that wiggle his right hand out from under the confining blanket.

"You'll do me fine," the man crowed, "just fine!"

"If you let me go right now, my protectors might let you live," Ezra told the man confidently, hoping against hope that he could talk his way out of this.

"Ha," the man scoffed, "Nobody knows where you are, kid. Nobody's coming after you. Nobody's gonna save you. I'm the one you're gonna answer to from now on. You're gonna do what I tell you, when I tell you. Get used to it."

Ezra viciously controlled the shiver that wanted to make its way down his spine at the man's words.

"They will come for me," he said with more assurance than he really felt, "and will be most incensed with you for putting them to the trouble of retrieving me. If you return me at once you may yet escape their wrath. I fear they will not treat you kindly if you continue on your present course."

Rimmer snorted a laugh, "Damn, you're naïve kid. But don't worry, that won't last long. It never does," he chuckled evilly and spurred the horse forward.

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Vin sat up with a jerk, his heart pounding, and lungs straining for breath. The echo of the voice that had disturbed his sleep still rang in his head and he reached out toward Ezra's side of the bed and found it empty.

"Ezra," he whispered then screamed at the top of his lungs, "EZRA!"

His desperate cries brought Chris flying out of his room and into the boys' room, Nathan and Josiah on his heels.

A crying Vin threw himself into the man's arms and told him, "He's gone! Ezra's gone!"

Chris could swear he felt his heart stop for a moment and he looked at the empty side of the bed and felt the fear start to grow.

"What happened, Vin?" Chris snapped then made a conscious effort to soften his tone, "Vin, please tell me what happened."

"I don't know," Vin sobbed. "I was sleepin' and then it sounded like Ezra was callin' me, screamin' at me. I woke up and he was gone! Where is he, Chris? Where'd he go? He's in trouble, I know he is!"

Chris held the sobbing boy tightly, doing his best to soothe him, needing the physical contact as much as the child at the moment.

While Chris way busy with the distraught seven year old, Josiah stepped to the open window and cautiously stuck his head out, looked around, and then, seeing no one in sight, pulled it back in again.

"Where's Buck?" Vin sniffled, "I want Buck!"

"He'll be here soon, son. You just stay here with Nathan and I'll go get him," Chris promised.

Nathan nodded and slipped onto the other side of the bed and Chris passed the child to him and stood up, signaling Josiah to follow him from the room.

"Take a lantern and look around outside." the worried man tersely told a hastily dressing Josiah. "Check the out house. Maybe he just..."

Josiah broke in to his leader's litany of instructions to say, "There's a ladder under the window, Chris."

Chris felt his heart drop into his stomach at the ex- preacher´s low voiced words. He had been trying to convince himself that nothing was really wrong; that Ezra had wandered off on his own for some as yet unknown but completely innocent reason. Josiah's unwelcome news ground that hope into the dust.

Chris grabbed his gun belt from his room then ran down the stairs, unmindful that he was barefoot and wearing only his long underwear and an unbuttoned pair of pants. He burst out of the front door and almost collided with JD who had heard the commotion in the quiet of the sleeping town and had run full out to check it.

"Chris!" the young man huffed, trying to catch his breath after his sprint, "what happened?"

"Ezra's missing," blond snapped out, buckling on his guns with vicious jerks of the leather.

"Missing! How?" JD cried.

"Josiah found a ladder under their window. Someone must have climbed in and taken him out from under our very noses," Chris ground out. "Vin woke up and Ezra was gone. Get a lantern and go help Josiah look around. Be careful where you go. There may be tracks we can follow."

"Do you really think someone took him?"

"At this point I can't afford to think any other way. If he just wandered off then he'll show up eventually on his own, but if he was taken then we don't have any time to waste. If this was a normal situation with a normal child, the first thing we'd do is search the town. Anyone who snatched him would know that and would be heading to a hiding place away from this town knowing this place was too small to successfully hide anyone for any period of time. But this isn't a normal situation because we know that at least two and maybe three people would love to get their hands on him, so we play it safe and assume he's been taken and act accordingly."

The two men parted and Chris headed for the saloon at an angry trot. He climbed the staircase on the back of the building that gave access to the rooms above and made his way down the dimly lit hall to the last door. Not bothering to knock, he turned the knob and shoved the door open, letting it hit the wall with a bang as he stepped in.

The loud, unexpected noise startled the two people on the bed and Chris stopped the hand that reached for the gun belt hanging on the bedpost with a terse, "Ezra's missing. Vin needs you," before turning on his heel and exiting the room again.

Chris could hear a woman's angry protests and the sound of belongings being collected hurriedly as he exited the way he had come in. He could hear Buck's running footsteps following behind him but he didn't stop. He didn't have the time right now. Ezra needed him.

"Chris!" Josiah's voice claimed his attention and he changed direction toward the man shining a lantern in the alley beside the boarding house.

"Did you find tracks?" Chris' flung the word outs at the man.

"JD's following them. He came from the back alley and returned there after he had Ezra."

"Let's go," Chris ordered.

"Chris," Buck began but was interrupted.

"You go take care of Vin, Buck. Send Nathan down to help search."

"Chris I want . . . " Buck tried again.

"He needs you, Buck, more than Ezra does at the moment. Go take care of him. We don't know if anyone's planning to try for him too. You keep him safe. We'll find Ezra."

Buck nodded and took off at a run into the boarding house.

Chris turned and followed Josiah down the alley after JD, swiftly joined by Nathan who had bounded outside as soon as Buck came in to be with Vin. They found the young man by an old abandoned building, squatting in the dirt and examining it carefully by the light of his lantern.

"JD, you find anything?" Chris asked.

"Yeah. Looks like he came down this alley and had a horse waiting here. There are no more footprints just hoof prints from here. The good news is they still look pretty fresh. He can't be too far ahead of us."

"Get the horses ready, JD. Josiah, scare up some provisions then help JD. Nathan, get whatever you think we might need when we find him," Chris told the men brusquely, "We ride in ten minutes."

The men scattered, each to their separate chores and Chris stalked inside to pull on his boots and shirt, and grab his duster and hat. Buck, a now much quieter Vin wrapped around him like a limpet, met him in the hall on his way out. Chris could see the man was torn between wanting to stay and protect Vin and helping to find Ezra.

The little hiccup that Vin gave drew the blonde's attention, and Chris reached out and ran a tender hand along Vin's back and patted it gently.

"I'll bring him home, Vin," Chris promised the boy. Buck's sorrowful eyes met his over the boy's head and the both men silently acknowledged the awful possibility that the other boy might not be alive when Chris brought him home. Buck could see the grim determination to save the child sitting in his friend's eyes and could only pray for his success. Buck didn't know what would happen to the other man if he lost another child.

Chris joined the rest of his men gathered outside the livery and took the reins of his horse from JD. He vaulted into the saddle and slapped the reins against the horse's side causing the horse to spring forward. The three remaining regulators followed. Chris turned his horse toward the spot where they had discovered the horse's tracks and began the search for the little boy, swearing this time he would not fail the child in his care. He would bring Ezra back alive or he would take his revenge on the one who dared take him, even if it took him the rest of his life to do it.

While the men were busy following the tracks, Ezra wearily looked around the trail his captor was following, trying to memorize as much of it as he could in case he got a chance to escape. They had been traveling for about two hours, their progress slowed by the same darkness that had covered their flight from town. The diffuse glow of the eastern sky as the morning sun began to rise provided just enough light to make out some of the landscape features.

Ezra repeated the silent litany that had filled his head since he had been captured, "Come get me soon, Chris. Please come get me soon!"

He took comfort from the memory of the night that Chris had found them in the barn loft and had held him and said, "You just rest and don't worry. Buck and I will take care of you both, and won't let anything happen to you." Chris had given his word that he and Buck would take care of him and his brother and they had. Ezra just knew that Chris was going to save him. Chris had promised, so he'd come. It was that simple. Ezra had profound faith in that thought. It was the mantra he used to keep his fear at bay. Chris would come and Ezra just had to hang on until he got there, and do his best to help Chris find him.

"We're there," Joseph informed Ezra cheerfully as he veered his horse to skirt a small rockslide that had fallen across the trail. The man pulled the horse to a stop in a small natural clearing and climbed down from the saddle. He reached up to pull Ezra down. He set the still blanket-wrapped child on the ground with his back to a rock. He was careful to avoid bruising the child in anyway, not from any desire to keep from harming the boy himself but so as not to damage his merchandise. His customers liked to put their own bruises on their toys.

"When my friends come for me they're probably going to kill you," Ezra tried once again. "You still have an opportunity to take me back to town now and just walk away."

Grim laughter greeted his words.

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The regulators easily followed the tracks from town. The freshness of the tracks made it simple until the trail crossed a rock table and disappeared altogether. The men spread out in different directions trying to pick up the trail again but couldn't find a trace.

"It's no use," Nathan's forlorn voice broke the silence, "All the trails from this point on are rock ones. There's nothing to leave a print in."

"We ain't giving up!" Chris growled at the younger man as he swung around to face him with his fists clenched in rage. "Ezra is depending on us. We're not letting that boy down, do you hear me!" The volume of his words rose until he ended the sentence in a near shout.

"Nobody said anything about giving up, Chris," Josiah put a restraining hand on the leader's shoulder.

Chris tried to shrug off the hand that restrained him but Josiah merely tightened his grip. Chris was a bundle of dynamite just waiting to blow and Nathan's words were like a match to a fuse. He had spent the whole time they were searching berating himself for allowing his guard to drop and thereby putting Ezra in danger. He should have been more careful. He had miscalculated badly, believing that no one would dare try for the boys while they were in the boarding house surrounded by the regulators. He had misjudged the kidnapper all the way around and now Ezra was paying the price. Ezra had trusted him to protect him and Chris had let him down. That thought burned at Chris' gut like a red hot poker. The thought that they might not find Ezra in time or at all sliced at the gunslinger's heart.

"I'm sorry, Chris," Nathan said as he hastened to reassure the angry man facing off with him. "I didn't mean it to sound like we should give up. I'm just frustrated, that's all. I want to find that boy as much as you do."

Josiah kept his hand firmly on Larabee's shoulder as he said, "We all are, brother. Nobody's giving up yet. We'll keep looking until we find him."

A shaken JD stepped back from the older man's anger and turned away leaving the healer and the preacher to calm their leader down. He had been waiting all through the long ride for someone to say what he knew everyone must be thinking: why hadn't he seen the man before he had made off with Ezra? It was what he had been asking himself ever since the discovery that Ezra was gone. It had been his turn at patrol. It was his responsibility, his fault that Ezra was missing. Ezra would be tucked up in his bed right now if he had been doing his job right.

The weight of the guilt lay heavily on the young sheriff's shoulders and was slowly crushing the life from him. If Ezra wasn't found in one piece JD knew he'd spend the rest of his life mourning the child and berating his own stupidity. There could be no forgiveness for so great a sin as his.

JD blinked the shimmer of tears from his eyes, staring down a rocky trail damning himself for his presumed incompetence when the light from the lantern swinging forgotten in his hand caught his eye as it flashed off something down the trail . . . something that stood out as unnatural in the ragged and dusty land. JD moved his lantern again and watched the light once again reflect off the thing that had caught his attention. Following a hunch and praying harder than he had ever prayed before in his life, JD move up the trail and bent to pick up the small object that had garnered his attention.

Chris, Nathan, and Josiah were all startled by the sudden loud whoop their youngest member let loose and they spun around to see the grinning man holding something up over his head for them to see. All three rushed to his side hoping for some good news.

"Way to go, Ezra!" JD enthused, and the others came closer. "Come on guys, we gotta go this way."

"How do you know it's that way?" Chris questioned gruffly, afraid to get his hopes up.

JD grinned and handed him his discovery. Chris had to swallow hard against the lump that welled in his throat at the small glass sphere in his palm.

"Ezra's leaving us a trail to follow," JD's joyful voice informed them as the other men stared down at one of the marbles that JD had given the boy that very morning. "We just gotta look for more marbles!"

Chris finally looked up from the marble in his hand. He unbuttoned the pocket on his shirt, carefully placed the marble inside and re-buttoned it then stared at the JD for moment.

"Good work, JD," he said and slapped JD on the back. "Now let's go get our boy."

The four men mounted their horses with a renewed sense of hope and purpose and headed down the trail, swinging their lanterns to and fro as they hunted for more of the little glass spheres. They found the next one where the trail split into two. It was lying in the middle of the right fork and Chris hopped from his horse to pick it up and place it in his pocket with the other one. They made faster time once they realized that Ezra only dropped the marbles when the paths veered or changed so they were able to surge ahead down each trail until they came to a new place where a decision had to be made. There they would stop and search for more marbles. The bitter despair that had fallen on Chris' heart when they had lost the trail lightened more and more the heavier his pocket grew with marbles.

Josiah held up his hand suddenly and motioned for quiet.

"What is it?" Chris murmured as he joined the older man who had stepped from his horse and was bent over at the waist examining a scraggly looking plant that was valiantly trying to grow in a cleft of the rocky hillside by the trail. One branch of the plant had been bent back and broken and all could see the beads of fluid that were seeping from the plant's broken stem.

"This branch is broken, and couldn't have been done more than five minutes ago. We're getting close, Chris," Josiah whispered.

Chris nodded his agreement and whispered, "We leave the horses here and go on foot from this point."

The men secured their horses and drew their weapons before beginning a quiet advance up the trail. Each man was tense with readiness, and their eyes constantly scanned the area looking for possible ambushes or additional clues. All four men silently prayed that they would be in time.

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The eastern sky was a pallet of pinks, purples and blues as Buck stared out the open window of the boardinghouse, but his weary eyes never noticed the beauty of the pre-dawn sky. He leaned against the headboard of the bed and held a now sleeping Vin across his lap, the boy's head resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder. Guilty thoughts flitted through the gunman's head as he stroked a large hand over the sleeping boy's hair and pulled the quilt covering the boy higher around his little shoulders. He hated that Ezra had been taken. He worried for the boy's safety, and prayed the others found him soon, but he couldn't help the tiny voice in the back of his head that rejoiced because it hadn't been Vin who was taken. He hated himself for the thought.

Buck loved Ezra. The child was a complex amalgam of worldly- wise adult and mischievous little boy. He constantly flabbergasted Buck with the depth of his insight into human nature and his knowledge of the way the world worked, and then turned right around an shocked him by being completely ignorant of the typical, ordinary things of childhood. Buck delighted in teasing the boy and watching those little eyes roll in exasperation. He felt honored that the little one that suspected the motives of most everyone he met had decide to gift him with his trust. Somehow Ezra had snuck up and stolen a piece of his heart when he wasn't looking, and now Buck was terrified about what might be happening to the boy.

But Vin was safe, that little voice whispered, Vin was still here. Buck despised himself for making the distinction between the two boys but had to acknowledge what his heart insisted was true . . . Vin was special to him. Vin was his; had been his from the first moment Buck had seen the child lying so still and pale in the dirty loft of the broken down barn. Something about the little orphan with the scarred back and love of pranks and jokes had reached deep inside the gunman and plucked a chord on his heartstrings. When they were together there was a harmony in his life that had never existed before, a silent kind of music that lifted his spirit and gave it wings. He had seen the reflection of his feelings in Vin's eyes whenever the boy looked at him. They belonged together.

Buck angled his head to look at the sleeping boy held in his arms and smiled sadly. Vin and Ezra belonged together too. The boys, although raised apart, were incredibly close now. You rarely found one without the other somewhere nearby. To the uneducated eye the boys seemed to be complete opposites, but he had come to understand that they complemented each other. What one lacked the other possessed in a perfectly balanced relationship of mutual need and support. Buck knew the loss of his brother would shatter Vin, and Buck didn't think anyone, not even he, would be able to put Vin back together again if that happened. The thought terrified Buck.

Vin was not the only one who would be shattered if something happened to Ezra Buck acknowledged to himself. Ezra had stolen the heart of his oldest friend and single-handedly poured the life back into the man that Buck had almost given up hoping would ever start truly living again. It was as if Ezra was handing Chris back the scorched and broken pieces of himself one by one and helping Chris glue them back in place. Chris was laughing more, drinking less, and was once again finding contentment in the simple things of life, and Buck knew the thanks for that could be laid squarely at one chestnut-haired, emerald-eyed imp of a seven-year- old's doorstep. If something happened to that child now . . . if Chris couldn't get him back . . . Buck shuddered to think of what that would do to the leader of the regulators. Buck feared there would be no pulling Chris back from the edge this time if that happened. The man would self destruct for sure.

"Please God, if you're listenin'," Buck prayed softly, "watch over that boy and bring him back to us in one piece."

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Chris froze and motioned his men to do the same as they heard the sweet sound of Ezra's voice say, "When my friends come for me they're probably going to kill you. You still have an opportunity to take me back to town now and just walk away."

Chris felt his knees start to grow weak with relief that the boy was still alive then made an effort to pull himself together so he could finish this. He couldn't afford to let go until the job was done. They still had to get Ezra back safely.

Chris could hear another, deeper voice laughing grimly before answering Ezra's statement.

"I keep tellin' ya, boy, there ain't no one coming for you. You're on your own! It's just you and me now."

Chris silently slipped around the last curve in the trail and surveyed the scene before him, Josiah, Nathan and JD following close behind. Ezra and a tall, gangly man were in a small clearing about twenty feet from the regulators. Ezra, wrapped from chin to toes in a blanket, was sitting with his back to a rock and facing down his captor with a look of smooth confidence. The regulator swiftly scanned the boy for injuries, and Chris felt his heart cry out in joy at the sight of the boy alive. Chris caught the barely perceptible flinch the boy gave at the man's next cruel remarks.

"Nobody's gonna come huntin' for you. Nobody's gonna save you. Nobody cares! Got it?" the man finished, stepping closer to Ezra and looming over the child with his hands on his hips.

"Well Nobody must be me then," said Chris with a deadly growl as he stepped farther into the clearing with his gun drawn and pointed at the villain, "Because I came hunting for him, and I care. YOU got it?"

"Chris!" Ezra shouted as he saw his guardian standing with a gun pointed at his tormentor, Nathan, Josiah, and JD standing by his side with grim faces and drawn guns.

Ezra's eyes filled with tears that began trickling down his cheeks. He had come! Chris had come to take care of him just like he promised he would. The wonder of that filled Ezra.

"NO!" Rimmer cried spinning around to face the intruders, not seeming to see the guns pointed at him. All he really saw was losing his Holy Grail again. "You can't have him! He's mine!"

"Wrong again," Chris' low, viciously cold voice told him, "He's MINE."

"NOOO!" Rimmer cried, reaching out and taking a step toward Ezra only to stop and stare in confusion at the patch of red that was suddenly blossoming on his chest. He looked in disbelief at the grim faced man holding the smoking gun then his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed in a heap on the ground.

"Ezra!" Chris cried and took off at a run across the clearing, absent mindedly holstering his gun as he ran. The blond threw himself on his knees beside the kidnapped child and pulled him into his arms with an exhalation that might have been interpreted by some as a sob.

Ezra wiggled and squirmed trying to get his arms loose so he could reach for Chris but the blanket still impeded his movements. Chris pulled back enough to notice the boy's gyrations and quickly stripped off the blanket, throwing it carelessly to one side.

"Ezra, are you all right?" Chris asked urgently as the boy threw himself back into Chris' embrace.

"I knew you'd come," Ezra cried with his face buried in his savior's shoulder, his little hands grasping tight handholds of the man's black shirt. Tears of relief and reaction began moistening the shirt immediately. "I told him you'd come for me. He didn't believe me, but I knew! I knew!" the boy sobbed.

Chris stroked the child's hair down with a trembling hand and tried to blink away the moisture that suddenly gathered in his eyes. The man reached down and raised the little face so he could determine for himself the boy really was alright as he whispered brokenly, "Always, Ezra. I'll always come for you. You're never going to be on your own again. I swear to you!"

A single, shining tear managed to escape from the man's hazel eyes and run down his face to drop from his chin and meet with one flowing from the little boy's emerald ones. Together the two tears intermingled and slid down the little cheek until they were absorbed by Chris' lips as he gave Ezra a tender kiss on his tear-washed cheek. Pulling the boy closer, Chris sat rocking him in the middle of the dusty clearing, both man and child oblivious to everything but the comforting presence of the other, as the dawn broke around them with quiet splendor.

SEVEN

Nathan smiled at Ezra as the little boy sidled up next to the window for the ninth time in as many minutes and gazed down into the busy streets. Ezra and Vin were staying with Nathan in his clinic for the afternoon helping him roll bandages and grind herbs. JD and Josiah had left four days ago to escort a prisoner, wanted for robbing a stage coach, to his trial in Gopher Gulch and were due back any day now. With their absence the remaining men had been pulling extra shifts. Chris was out checking on a report of cattle rustling on one of the nearby ranches and Buck was patrolling the town.

In the two weeks since Ezra's kidnapping, the child had taken to clinging to Chris Larabee's side like a limpet. Anytime Chris had to be separated from him, Ezra would restlessly watch for the man's return. What Nathan found most amusing was the number of excuses Chris found for stopping by several times a day to check on the boys. Not that Chris Larabee would admit that was what he was doing. No sir, he always had some well reasoned and completely logical reason for his visits, but he wasn't fooling anyone. Ezra's kidnapping had shaken the man to his core and he was still recovering his balance.

Truth be told, they all were. All of the regulators had been affected by the boy's disappearance. Nathan was absolutely sure that if anything had happened to that boy the town of Four Corner's would be looking for a new group of protectors. Chris would have been off somewhere seeking vengeance and drowning himself in a bottle. Buck would have taken off with Vin looking for a safe place where no one would separate them while he tried to put a devastated Vin back together. JD would have been lost in his own world of self recrimination and guilt for what he would have seen as his failure to do his duty and properly protect the child. Josiah might have stayed, but Nathan could see him just as easily chasing after JD attempting to repress his own grief by ministering to the young man. And Nathan himself...well, he figured he might have stayed on as the town's healer, but would have retired as a regulator. He just wouldn't have wanted to continue without his friends.

Ezra straightened suddenly and Nathan began mentally counting down to himself. He turned to face the closed door of his clinic with crossed arms and a smirk. As he reached zero the door to the clinic swung open and the blonde man in a black duster stepped inside, his eyes arrowing immediately to the child crossing the floor to him at a run.

"You're back," Ezra said softly and reached up to the man who bent down to haul him up into his arms in a smooth motion that had been perfected over the last two weeks by repeated practice.

"Yep, just got back a few minutes ago," Chris said, settling the boy on his hip comfortably. "I wanted to ask Nathan if Mrs. Wilkins had been by to see him about her little girl. Seems Susie may be coming down with something. Just thought Nathan might like to know he may be needed later," Chris told the child while avoiding the knowing eyes of his friend.

"I appreciate the warning," Nathan told him dryly, going along with the morning's excuse.

"Hi, Vin," Chris greeted the blond child that had looked up and smiled as he walked in but continued grinding the herb mixture with the mortar and pestle Nathan had set in front of him a few minutes ago.

"Hello, Chris," Vin called back.

"I'm going to the jail for awhile. You boys want to come along?"

"Certainly," Ezra told him happily.

"Sure," was Vin's reply. "I think I'm almost finished with this."

Nathan came up behind the child and looked over his shoulder.

"That's fine, Vin. You did good. Thanks for your help. You too Ezra," the black man told the boys. "You boys saved me a lot of time and I surely do appreciate it."

"You are most welcome, Nathan," Ezra returned.

"Yep," Vin said with a grin, "Any time."

"Well let's go then," Chris said and set Ezra down on the floor.

The little boy slipped his hand into Chris' larger one and Chris reached out his other hand for Vin to take.

"We'll see you later, Nathan," Chris called as the trio headed out the door.

The healer stood in front of the open door and watched as the trio climbed down the stairs and sauntered across the dusty street to disappear inside the door of the jail. He shook his head in amusement and gave a fond grin before stepping back and closing the door, intending to get his work finished soon so he would have a chance to join them before supper time.

In the jail, both boys immediately made for the open doors of the twin cells and each grabbed the metal bars. Their momentum caused the doors to swing shut with a metallic clang and gave each boy a free ride. Chris settled himself in the chair behind the desk and watched indulgently as the twins jumped off and pushed them open again just to repeat the whole process. He knew they would soon tire of the game and he figured the smiles on their faces were worth putting up with the irritating clang of the doors as they repeatedly closed.

"When's Buck getting back, Chris?" Vin asked as he jumped off the door and walked to the man.

"About the same time as yesterday I suppose," Chris smiled at the boy as Vin moved to stand in front of him.

"What time did he get back yesterday?" Vin asked.

"Oh, about the same time as he'll get back today," Chris teased.

"Chr-iss," Vin moaned in frustration.

Taking pity on the boy, Chris pulled him up into his lap and hugged him.

"He should be back any time. Probably not more than half an hour," Chris reassured him.

"Can we go riding while we wait for him?" the little boy asked.

Chris shook his head and said, "Someone has to stay and watch the town. With Buck gone that would leave Nathan by himself, and he has his own patrol to do after supper. It wouldn't be fair, would it?"

Shrugging off his disappointment, the blond child climbed down from the man's lap and wandered over to his brother who was still occupied by swinging on the cell door. Vin stepped behind his brother and grinned.

"Let's play, Ez," Vin told his brother as he gave the door Ezra was riding on a hard push and caused the door to move faster and bang shut with an especially loud noise. "We can be Texas Rangers out to get the bad guys and lock 'em up."

"And what is the crime of the miscreants that we are attempting to subdue?" Ezra obliged by letting go of the metal bars and jumping off the door to face his twin.

"Cattle rustlers," Vin suggested with a gleam in his eye.

"Why not something more daring? Perhaps bank robbery? This could be the bank . . . " Ezra head for a spindle back chair and stepped behind it.

"Come on, Ezra," Vin argued, as he followed his twin around the room and launched into his own ideas for their game of pretend.

Chris chuckled silently in amusement as he watched the boys interact with each other. He had seen this over and over. Each child would start out with their own ideas, and they would argue and discuss until they eventually wound up playing some strange compromise version that both enjoyed.

Chris had to acknowledge to himself how good the two boys where for each other. Ezra challenged Vin intellectually and exposed him to thoughts and ideas that had never been a part of his world previously, and Vin brought a sense of fun and sometimes downright silliness to the mix.

Having heard the story of Vin's life, Chris could only be amazed at the child's ability to overlook the horrible things done to him and meet each new day with a smile and optimistic enthusiasm. The child had been little more than a slave to his grandfather; forced to endure long, grueling hours of work and both physical and verbal abuse that no child should ever have to endure much less one so young. Although Chris had sometimes wondered if Vin's shy smile might occasionally be hiding darker feelings, he had decided the child's ability to focus on the positive side of things was probably a legacy of his mother's loving influence.

He wished Ezra had been lucky enough to have known the woman. The little boy was so serious most of the time that Chris wondered if Ezra had ever played before he had found Vin. Somehow he doubted it. From the little information he had been able to pry out of Ezra, Chris had gotten the impression that while Edward Standish had loved and been proud of his son he had apparently tried to raise him in his own image: restrained, refined, reserved, realistic, and reactive. He had brought up his son to be the perfect gentleman in miniature....one that could clean out your pockets at the poker table and then talk you out of your shirt if he wanted. From what Chris gathered, there had been no such thing as playtime in the Standish household. Spare time had been utilized to practice card shuffles and sleight of hand, or studying the lessons assigned by his father. The closest Ezra had come to simple entertainment had been reading; the closest to a game of make believe had been role playing with his father as the man schooled him in the art of the con. Now thanks to the combined efforts of his twin and the five regulators, the little gentleman was finally learning how to play.

Ezra was not the only one that had changed though, As the boys moved around the interior of the jail, Chris couldn't help but be reminded of exactly how much influence the two little lost boys had unknowingly exerted on him, the other regulators, and the rest of the people in the small town. He only had to look around the jail to find visible testaments of how the boys had changed things. Where once before the walls were hung with the faces of men on wanted posters, now he would find several of the children's pencil drawings interspersed with them. In the corner where only a gun cabinet had held rifles and ammunition there was now also a wooden crate filled with a carved train set and wooden building blocks. There were books in the drawers of the desk, and wooden soldiers lined up on the window sill, and hanging from one of the pegs on the wall was a slingshot that Buck had confiscated from Vin when the child came close to breaking one of the jailhouse windows. Chris was paradoxically bothered by how little the new look actually bothered him.

"May we go see Mrs. Potter, Chris?" Ezra's voice interrupted his musings.

"You boys aren't after more candy, are you?" Chris asked, eyeing the two suspiciously.

The widowed storekeeper had been another to fall under the little boys' spell. A mother herself, she had a natural soft spot for children. The knowledge that these particular children "belonged" to the regulators that had brought her husband's murderer to justice when no one else would lift a finger also predisposed her to spoil them a little. The fact that Ezra, with the business savvy drilled into him since birth and his head for figures, had helped her increase her profits ten percent by suggesting she change the way she ordered her shipments of goods and had them delivered had endeared the two to the woman even more. Gloria Potter was always good for a cookie or a stick of peppermint whenever the boys entered her general store. Chris and Buck were trying very hard not to let the boys take advantage of the widow's good nature, a task made more difficult by the lady herself.

"No, Chris," Vin hastened to reassure the man, "We were just gonna see if she has any old bags we could use to hold the stolen bank money," Vin told him seriously.

"I see," Chris worked hard to keep his expression from showing his amusement. Apparently while he had been pondering, the boys had concluded their negotiations and progressed to gathering props for their game. "Alright, but go straight there and come straight back."

"Sure Chris. Come on, Ezra," Vin whooped and took off through the door at a fast clip.

Ezra followed along at a slightly more dignified pace. The boy threw a glance over his shoulder at Chris as though checking to make sure he was still there before following his brother down the boarded sidewalk to Potter's. Chris watched him leave then had to rise from his chair and go stick his head out the door to visually follow the two boys' progress. He unconsciously relaxed his stance when both boys disappeared inside the store. Letting either boy out of his sight was still a problem for Chris. Although they were getting better, the man still had nightmares of the night Ezra had been taken. On really bad nights, his fears intermixed and Chris would dream of both Ezra and Adam, trapped and dying together. He always woke in a cold sweat, barely holding back the scream on his lips. On those nights he would have to leave his bed to slip silently into the bedroom of the boys and check on them.

Chris wasn't stupid, and knew he had to get over Ezra's kidnapping, not only for his sake but for the boys' as well. He knew they would gage their reactions by the reactions of the adults around them. They wouldn't feel safe until their guardians let things get back to normal. Chris was trying hard but still had problems with that. He had to check on the boys, there was no getting around that right now. The compulsion would come over him and he HAD to make sure they were alright; that they were safe. He knew his friends found all the excuses he came up with to check on the boys amusing, but he had his reasons for giving them. By having logical reasons for stopping by he felt he was hiding his own uneasy feelings from the twins, and thereby letting them regain their sense of security faster. At least he hoped that was what was happening. His one consolation was that Buck was not much better. The large man had one eye on the boys at all times when he was not on duty.

Chris took a seat in one of the wooden chairs on the porch of the jail. He wasn't watching for the boy's return, he told himself, the air was just fresher outside. Chris was still sitting there staring at the doorway to Potter's store when Buck rode up and reined his big grey to a stop in front of the jail. He leaned over and rested his folded arms on the pommel of the saddle as he looked at his friend then searched for the boys.

"Where?" was all he said.

Chris didn't need to ask him what he meant so simply answered, "Potter's."

"They okay?"

"Yep. Wanted to see if Gloria had any bags they could play with."

Buck nodded then climbed down from his horse and tied the reins loosely around the hitching post. He stretched his arms over his head to work out some the of the kinks the long ride had put in his back and stepped up on to the jail porch and took a seat by his friend.

"So how'd it go?" Chris asked as he dug a cheroot from his pocket and placed it between his lips.

Buck shook his head and watched his friend light it as he answered, "Everything seems quiet. Nothing much happening. Old man Harlan got drunk and tried to steal a kiss from Miz Wilson and she brained him with her broom again. That's about it."

Chris had to grin at Buck's exasperated sigh.

"For a man that's been trying to spark the same woman for the last twenty five years, you would think he'd get the message by now that she's not interested," Chris smirked.

"Nope," Buck grinned, "He says he's wearing her down, and he expects her to say yes to his proposal any day now. He may be dumber than dirt, but you got to give the man credit for being persistent."

Both men chucked and then Buck asked, "Did you find any evidence of

rustling out at the Wilkins place?"

This question wrung a wide grin from the other man.

"Found a whole gang of them," Chris told a curious Buck. "A real dirty bunch."

Buck could tell from the amusement in his old friend's voice that he was being set up but played along anyway, enjoying the humor he saw in his too often solemn friend. "Sounds kinda dangerous. You didn't go after 'em all by yourself did ya?"

"Yep. Followed their tracks right down to the river." Chris' eyes gleamed in remembrance of the scene. "Caught the whole gang red-handed."

"Okay, pard, I'll bite. Who were they and what happened?"

"The three youngest Grover kids came across one of Tom Wilkin's calves stuck in the mud and managed to pull it out. They knew enough to look for a brand but since the calf hadn't been branded yet they figured it must not belong to any body. Then one of boys got the bright idea of taking it home. Tommy, the oldest boy, had some big dream of starting his own ranch or something. The other two just wanted it for a pet, but they thought their ma would take one look at the mud covered calf and tell them they couldn't keep it so they decided to give it a bath before they took it home."

Chris finally lost it and began to laugh in earnest, setting off Buck as well.

"You should have seen it, Bucklin. Those three were hauling at that calf, trying to get it deeper into the water to give it a bath, and the calf was bawling and fighting to get away from 'em. It kept knocking 'em into the water and they kept bobbing back up like pieces of cork on a fishing line, shouting at the thing to behave and take its bath like a good cow. I thought I was going to fall off my horse laughing when I found them.

Then when I told them I was out tracking down someone who'd rustled one of the Wilkin's calves...and mentioned how much their calf resembled the missing one...I thought those boys were going to fall all over each other trying to put the blame on one another. It was the funniest thing I've seen in a long time. Tom Wilkins got his calf back cleaner than it's ever been in its life and had a good laugh over it. Then I took the kids home and explained what had happened, and the boys' ma decided if they had so much energy and wanted to clean up after animals so much they could clean out the chicken coop. When I left them, the three of them were ankle-deep in chicken droppings and feathers, calling each other names and making faces at one another behind their ma's back."

"Yep," Buck chuckled, "the dangerous life of a peacekeeper in the town of Four Corners: over persistent suitors and pint sized rustlers. I'm sure the folks around here will sleep better in their beds tonight knowing we've taken care of those dangerous varmints for them."

"No doubt," Chris agreed still smiling.

"Buck!" Vin's excited voice stole the men's attention and both turned to watch as Vin and Ezra ran to join them.

"Howdy, Vin. How's it going there, Ezra?" Buck greeted the twins. Vin headed straight to Buck, crawled into the man's lap and threw his arms around him for a hug.

"Very well, thank you, Buck," Ezra smiled up at the big man as he stopped by Buck's chair long enough to receive his own short hug from the man and then continued on to stand beside Chris' chair.

Buck grinned at the formality and watched as Chris lifted Ezra to sit on his knee, his arm held loosely behind the boy's back to steady him.

"We're going to play Texas Rangers, Buck," Vin informed him with a grin, "Do you want to play with us?"

"Well I don't know, pard," Buck grinned back and gave a lock of Vin's long hair a gentle tug. "Do I have to be the bad guy again?"

Vin looked at Ezra, Ezra looked at Vin, then both boys turned to the man and said, "Yes!"

Buck laughed and gave Vin's hair another tug then said, "Now that just don't seem fair," Buck mocked a sad shake of his head.

Ezra, his face serious but his green eyes shining with mischievous humor, said, "I suppose it would be more democratic to take a vote to decide who should play the roll of miscreant. Do you agree, Vin?"

Vin's gave a lopsided smirk, one corner of his mouth pulled a little higher than the other, and replied, "I guess that would be fair."

Ezra nodded seriously, "Very well then, all in favor of Mr. Wilmington enacting said roll please raise your right hand."

Immediately both boys' hands shot into the air, and a sputtering Buck fought back his laughter to pretend outrage at the verdict.

"Come, come now, Buck," Ezra barely contained his own smirk, "Majority rules. A gentleman would abide by the democratically determined decision."

"I'm gonna democratically determine you," Buck mock- growled and made a show of grabbing at the little boy.

Vin and Ezra, both giggling in glee, jumped down and started running away from the big man that gave chase yelling dire threats at the rapidly retreating little backsides. Chris shook his head in amusement as the impromptu game of tag ensued in the alley by the jail.

"At it again, huh?" Nathan's amused voice captured Chris' attention as the healer climbed up on the porch and took the now vacant chair beside Chris.

"Yep," Chris answered him as both men returned to watching the two little boys and one big one chase each other around the narrow alleyway. It was debatable who was having the most fun.

"Buck has more energy than a man his age ought to have," Nathan said with a grin.

"It's got nothing to do with age. He's just a little kid in an oversize body," Chris chuckled, "Always has been. It just took the boys being around to shine a light on it and make it more obvious."

As Chris spoke, Buck swooped down and caught a laughing Ezra by the waist and spun around a few times as his nimble fingers danced along the boy's ribs increasing Ezra's laughter and making the child squirm to get away.

"I'll save ya, Ez!" Vin yelled and dove at Buck's back, latching onto the man's belt and hanging on with both hands. Instead of stopping Buck, Vin was swept off his feet and whirled around with the man as he spun.

"Woo-hoo!" Vin yelled out in delight.

"Ride 'em cowboy," Nathan called out in encouragement which earned him a laughing look from the little blonde.

"Gonna break me a devil horse," Vin crowed.

"Hey, first a bad guy and now a devil horse!" Buck yelped as Ezra managed to squirm out of the man's arms and get both his hands locked around Buck's belt as well. The combined weight of the two boys pulling on the leather was slightly impeding the man's ability to breathe. "I'm telling you I don't get no respect from you two!"

Another round of boyish giggles was his only answer.

As the trio continued to spin, Nathan turned a knowing eye to his leader and dryly asked, "You want to take bets as to which one is gonna puke first?"

"I don't think so," Chris returned, amused.

The two lawmen were not the only ones watching the laughing trio. The townsfolk as they passed the area looked on in amused fondness as the boys and the regulator played happily in the alley by the jail. Shopkeepers paused in their work to watch and more than one smile was flashed at the sound of the boy's laughter ringing out through the quiet afternoon air. People returned to their work with lighter hearts.

"Riders comin' in," Nathan told his leader as he spotted the horses then recognized them as those belonging to Josiah and JD. "Looks like they made it back alright."

The arrival of the pair interrupted the roughhousing. At the sight of the returning travelers, Vin and Ezra let go of Buck and took off at a run toward the men.

"Josiah! JD!" Vin yelled as he waved and ran toward them.

"Welcome home!" Ezra followed his twin, but refrained from yelling and waving. Although he was just as eager to greet his friends, he tried to keep a measure of decorum; after all, his father had always told him appearances were everything.

The three peacekeepers followed the children at a slower pace and saw them come to a sudden stop then surge forward and wrap their arms tightly around Josiah's legs. JD had taken the reins of Josiah's horse and now stood to one side of the tableau.

Chris exchanged a worried look with Buck at the boys' unusual behavior and quickened their pace.

"I'm alright," Josiah was saying as they approached. "It's nothing to be worried about."

"Nathan!" Ezra raised his head as he noticed the healer approach. "Josiah is injured, Nathan!" Ezra's voice rose with worry.

"Can you make it better, Nathan?" Vin's equally worried voice sounded.

"It's just a scratch. Really," Josiah tried to assure them. The oldest regulator was deeply touched to witness the depths of feelings that the children were revealing by their concern for his injury.

Nathan hurried forward and all three men had a clearer view of the bandana used as a makeshift bandage covering the big man's left arm.

"I'm fine boys. I promise you there's no reason to worry."

"What happened?" Chris asked.

"Prisoner tried to make a break for it right before we got to Gopher Gulch," Josiah informed him with a grimace as Nathan peeled the edge of a bandage away from his wound. "He managed to get hold of a rock and was going to knock me in the head with it but he missed when I turned around. He only managed to get my arm. He just cut it a little. It really is fine."

Nathan looked down at the two little faces staring at him anxiously and gave them a reassuring smile.

"Josiah´s alright now. It's just a cut with some bruises around it. It might be a little sore for awhile but that's about all."

Ezra and Vin loosened their grips a little in relief but still held on to Josiah until the man bent his knees to stoop to their level.

"There, you see. Nothing to worry about. I've had worse cuts shaving," he told them with a grin.

Slowly the twins drew back and stood silently beside the ex- preacher, watching his face closely.

"Now how about a proper homecoming greeting?"

Ezra's slow smile seeped across his face and he leaned forward to wrap an arm around Josiah's neck, Vin copying the motion from the other side.

"Now that's what I call a proper greeting," Josiah told them, "Makes comin' home all the sweeter."

"Hey!" JD called with a pretended pout, "Where's mine?"

Laughing, both boys bounced over to the sheriff and enthusiastically gave and accepted hugs and the incident was pushed aside in the happy reunion of the seven.

It wasn't until the middle of the night that the men were reminded of the incident. Buck jerked awake to find his room shrouded in darkness. The moonlight shining through the open window just barely providing enough light for him to recognize the little figure standing by his bedside watching him as he slept.

"Vin?" his sleep-roughed voice asked quietly and he rose up on one arm, "You alright?"

Vin started slightly as Buck addressed him, but stepped closer to the man's bed as he realized that Buck was awake.

"Uh-huh," came the not very believable reply.

Buck raised the covers with his other hand and told him, "Better get in here where it's warm."

Vin didn't wait for a second invitation but dove under the covers and snuggled up next to the big man. Buck tucked the blankets around the little form and lowered himself back down. Vin used Buck's now prone arm as a pillow and the man used his other to pull the boy closer.

"What has you out of bed at this time of night?" Buck said casually, trying not to spook the child into clamming up. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Vin was still and silent for moment, not wanting to seem like a scaredy-cat to his hero, but really needing the comfort the big man offered more at the moment than his pride. The boy nodded and clung a little tighter.

Buck lifted his free hand and stroked the boy's hair lightly then bent his head to place a kiss on the bowed head.

"You want to tell me about it?" he asked softy.

A swift shake of the head was his only answer.

"Everybody has nightmares," Buck tried to reassure the boy.

"Not you! You're too brave," Vin mumbled.

"That's where you're wrong, Vin. I've had plenty of nightmares in my life. It doesn't have anything to do with being brave."

Buck was silent as he racked his brain for anything that had happened that might have inspired a nightmare in the child and could only come up with one thing. He took a shot in the dark and asked, "Did you have a nightmare about Josiah?"

Vin jerked his head up to stare at his guardian in surprise and whispered, "How did you know?"

"I just figured." Buck said. "You were mighty concerned about him when he and JD rode in the afternoon. What happened in your dream Vin?"

Buck continued his gentle stroking of Vin's hair as he patiently waited for the boy to decide if he wanted to share and if so to find his own words.

Vin drew comfort from the soothing strokes, but felt a tinge of sadness at the same time.

"My Ma used to do that," Vin's soft voice whispered in the darkness.

"What? Stroke your hair?"

"Mm-hmm. She'd read me a story before bed every night and then she'd sing to me and stroke my hair until I fell asleep."

"That sounds like a very special memory," Buck whispered back. "Does it bother you when I do it? 'Cause I would never want to spoil a special memory for you."

"Oh, no!" Vin quickly asserted, "I like it when you do it. It reminds me of Ma but it's a good thing. I feel all warm and good and...and safe inside, just like when Ma did it."

Buck had to swallow the sudden lump that gathered in his throat.

"My Ma used to do the same thing," Buck told him. "Every night, rain or shine, no matter what, she'd come in before I fell asleep and sing to me and stroke my hair. It was my favorite time of the day."

Vin snuggled a little closer and sighed, "Mine too. I miss her."

"Yeah, I know. It's hard, isn't it? Losing a Ma. I still miss mine and she's been gone for a long time now."

"I don't want Josiah to be in a box like my Ma," Vin's voice trembled as he spoke.

"Is that what you dreamed about? Josiah in a coffin like your mother?"

Vin nodded in agreement.

"You heard Nathan, son, Josiah's just fine. He's not going anywhere."

"But he could." Vin looked up at Buck's shadowed face in the darkness. "He could wind up in a box."

"Yeah he could. Just like I could, or you could, or anybody else. Vin we can't control when someone's time is up and they get called home. It's not up to us, and when it happens we can't do anything but miss those that are taken from us and go on living until our own time comes. It don't do you any good to be worryin' over it all the time. That just makes you crazy. You start pushin' everyone away 'cause you're scared you're gonna get hurt when they die and eventually wind up all alone and lonely. That's no way to live, son.

You talked about being brave, Vin. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is just keep on going, keep on living and doing the best you can to be happy. You told me your Ma always said things were better if you smiled, remember? Well my Ma always said you never knew how long you were going to be given on this earth so you better not waste what time you had worrying about what might happen. It was better to stuff everyday you were given with as much happiness as you could pack into it, just in case it was your last. That way you'd never have to be sorry about anything when you finally got to the hereafter. Do you understand what I'm trying to get at?"

Vin was quiet as he absorbed the man's words. Buck patiently waited, giving the boy time to mull over everything that had been said.

"You're saying don't worry about what you can't change and just enjoy what you've got."

Buck hugged the boy and told him, "That's it exactly. I knew you were a smart kid."

Vin's arms tightened around Buck's neck in return. The two stayed that way for a few minutes until Vin's arms loosened again.

"I guess I should head back to bed now," Vin said with audible reluctance.

Back smiled to himself in the darkness, knowing Vin wanted to stay right where he was, and said casually, "I suppose."

He felt the little shoulders of the boy unconsciously slump in disappointment.

"Or you could just stay right here where it's warm. Not much left of the night anyway. Hardly worth going all that way for."

"Well," Vin tried to sound equally as casual, "It was pretty chilly out there. Maybe I better stay here. Wouldn't want to catch another chill."

"That sound's like a wise thing to do," Buck assured him gravely and had to struggle to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Buck pulled the blankets higher around both of them and soon Vin s soft snores were joining Buck's. Neither one noticed the blond haired man that silently re-secured the bedroom door then returned to his own room to pace the rest of the night away.

EIGHT

"We need to talk."

Buck brought the chair he had leaned against the wall of the jail upright and looked at Chris who was staring off at the horizon. He recognized the tone the other man had used to utter that one sentence. Whatever his friend wanted to speak about was serious.

"About?" Buck questioned.

"About the boys," was the answer that had him stiffening.

"What about the boys?" he gritted out, knowing his friend as well as he did he already had a very good idea where this was leading.

"I got up to check on the boys last night and I know Vin went looking for you. I was at the door when he told you about being scared Josiah was going to die."

Buck's fists, resting one on each of his knees, involuntarily clenched as he controlled his anger at what he knew was coming next.

"We can't keep them, Buck. It's not safe, and it wouldn't be fair to them. This just proves it. They've already lost enough. They don't need to be worrying about losing us too. This is a risky job. Anyone of us could buy it on any given day, and the boy's might get caught in the crossfire. They'd be safer with a real family. People that won't go and die on them and leave them alone. They deserve that. They've been through enough already," Chris's hazel eyes turned from his study of the distant mountains.

Buck could see the pain and suffering in those eyes clearly. Buck knew Chris didn't really want to give the boys up anymore than he did, but there was also that little touch of fear in his eyes: the fear of getting close and getting hurt again. Although he knew Chris was genuinely concerned for the twins' welfare, it was this fear that Buck was afraid was truly motivating his friend to contemplate sending Ezra and Vin away.

Buck stared at his oldest friend grimly while he spoke, "You keep talking about them being safer with someone else. That they need to be with somebody that won't go and die on 'em, but have you taken a good look around you lately? We live in the Western Territory. It's rough, and dangerous, and unpredictable. There's no certainly to life out here, and you know it. Nobody has a guarantee they'll be alive tomorrow; that children will have living parents or parents will have living children. People get sick. Stages and banks get robbed. Bullets go astray... and houses burn down."

At his words, Chris shot a furious glare and clinched his own fists. Buck uncaringly watched this reaction. For once Buck's rage met or exceeded his leader's.

"If you've forgotten your own lesson in that," Buck continued, "then I suggest you go talk to Gloria Potter and her children, or Mary Travis and Billy, or maybe Hiram Nechaus and his children to help remind you. This whole town could be gone next week or last for another hundred years! There's no way to know for sure. We all just have to keep livin' from one day to the next, and deal with whatever comes along when it happens. The boys are no different.

NO ONE could care about those boys more than we do. NO ONE could love them more. To my way of thinking that counts for a lot more than being safe. You could be safe in a prison, but that don't mean you want to live in one. Sending them boys away just to keep 'em safe, tearing them away from the only love and security they´ve known is on the same level with throwing 'em into prison as far as I'm concerned.

Now you might be too scared to handle the risk that comes with raisin' 'em, but I'm not, and neither are Josiah, JD, and Nathan. So you listen to me, and you listen good. I...WILL...NOT...LET...YOU...RUIN...THIS...FOR...US. Those boys will stay right where they are, right where they belong: with us. You and I will be going to FIST CITY if you try to send them away. Now, pard, I am done talking on this."

Chris looked into Buck's carved-stone face and tried to reason with him, "Buck, no matter how we feel about the boys we have to be reasonable . . . ,"

Buck cut him off with a slashing motion of his hand, "I said I'm done talkin' and I am."

Without another word Buck spun on his heel and walked away, his back straight and steps stiff with anger. Chris stared after him with fists clinched in frustration.

"He's right you know."

Chris swung around quickly to find Josiah leaning against the side of the jail, his arms crossed on his chest.

"How long have you been there?" Chris snapped out.

"Long enough to know that you think the boys would be better off someplace else than here with us."

"Did you hear Vin was having nightmares about you dying?"

Josiah nodded and said, "Yep. You know I lost my mother when I was only nine, did I ever tell you that? It was just my father, and sister and me after that. After she died, I used to have nightmares for years that my father would die and leave Hannah and me alone. Even though he mistreated us something awful, I still didn't want him to be taken away. He was the only security I had left.

It's a natural fear for any child that's had the concept of death so graphically illustrated. I'd say Vin's reaction was normal for a child with his experiences. I'd also say that he'd be doing the same thing with whomever he got attached to . . . even if it wasn't a bunch of lawmen in a dusty town. It's something that, with love and understanding and a sense of security, he'll eventually outgrow. I don't see how it's best for the twins to leave the people they've come to love and depend on and be sent to a bunch of strangers. I really don't see them wanting to leave what they've found here."

"They're children. We're the adults around here. It's our job to protect those boys," Chris stated through gritted teeth.

"I agree completely. I'm just wondering though, if you send them away . . . who are you actually protecting?" Josiah lifted a hand and tugged on the brim of his hat before walking away

7777777

Ezra noticed the changes in Chris' behavior straight away. Where before his guardian had found excuses to keep him close, now suddenly he found excuses to push him away. For the first time since Buck and Chris had brought them to Four Corners, the blond man was absent from the boy's bedtime ritual. He found reasons to be away at meals, and now made sure to check on the boy's wellbeing from a distance. Supper had become the only meal he shared with the children and then he hardly spoke or looked at the two. Always sensitive to the behavior of others, Ezra had felt the man's withdrawal and immediately jumped to the conclusion that he, Ezra, must have done something wrong to have caused it.

Predictably enough, Ezra reacted to the man's now seeming indifference negatively. The usually talkative child went nearly silent. Even Vin's attempts to draw him out were met with only one syllable answers, and the serious little boy refused to play. The laughter and mischievous manner that the boy had been showing with increasing frequency disappeared and the little gentleman with the blank face returned. He sat for hours on end just sitting by the window in his bedroom staring into space and trying to figure out what he had done that was so bad that Chris didn't like him anymore. He lay in bed next to Vin at night but couldn't sleep. His normally good appetite disappeared and he did more rearranging of the food on his plate than he did eating. No amount of coaxing from the others could get him to eat more than the barest little bit. Dinner was the only meal that the boy even made a pretense of consuming and that only after a flat, "Eat your dinner, Ezra," from Chris.

It had only been three days but Nathan was starting to get concerned. He just didn't know what to do to fix it. The frustration was eating at him and it came out in anger at the leader of the regulators.

"The man's a fool," Nathan ground out and threw the rag he had been using to clean his pistol on the desk.

He and Josiah, Buck, and JD had all gathered in the jail after lunch while Chris rode out on another unnecessary patrol. Because they were cleaning their guns, the boys had been sent out to play in the alley beside the jail, Buck sitting close to the window to keep an eye on them.

"He's a fool, and Ezra's the one sufferin' for it. That boy ain't eaten enough to keep a gnat together in the last few days. He's already small. He can't afford to miss too many more meals."

"We all hear ya, Nathan, but like you we don't know how to fix it," Josiah sighed.

"The only one that can fix it is Chris," Buck snapped out, "and he's just too damn stubborn to do it. He's tearin' that boy apart and he refuses to see it. He still thinks he'd be better off if Ezra went to live with a normal family."

"Can't you talk to him, Buck?" JD asked, "Make him see reason?"

Buck sighed and threw his head back to look at the ceiling in frustration and then looked back at the young, sheriff, "The man's more stubborn than ten Missouri mules."

"So what are we gonna do now?" JD asked casting worried glances at each of the other regulators in turn.

"The best we can, son," Josiah told him, "the best we can."

As the men had conversed, Buck's attention had wandered from the boys so he didn't notice when Ezra had slipped under the window and stood listening. He was just in time to hear Buck say, "He still thinks he'd better off if Ezra went to live with a normal family." Shocked, thinking Buck was saying Chris believed he would be better off if Ezra wasn't with him, Ezra pushed away from the wall and hurried to the end of the alley where he pushed himself between two barrels and huddled down with his arms wrapped around his legs tightly and his face buried in his knees. He never heard the last part of Buck's comments.

The pain he felt ripped at his heart. It was true then. Chris really didn't want him around anymore. Hot tears started flowing from his eyes to be absorbed by the cloth of his trousers. What had he done? He had tried to be good. He had done what he was told. He hadn't conned anyone out of their money, or tried to fleece them at poker. He hadn't told one lie since Chris had found him in the loft that night. He had tried so hard. He just didn't understand what had gone wrong. The longer he thought on it the harder he cried.

"Ezra?" he could hear Vin's voice but didn't acknowledge it.

"Ezra, whatcha doing back there?" Vin squeezed through the barrels and settled beside his twin. "Ezra?"

The chestnut haired child raised his head slowly and looked with misery at his brother. Vin reached out quickly and pulled Ezra to him in a hug.

"What's the matter, Ez? You hurt?"

Ezra shook his head and Vin relaxed his grip slightly.

"Then what's wrong?"

Ezra sniffed and bent his head to stare at his knees again, "Chris doesn't want me anymore."

"How do you know?"

"I heard Buck talking to the other gentlemen right now. He said so."

"Are you sure?"

"I know what I heard, Vin. Buck said Chris believes he would be better off if I lived with someone else."

"No!" Vin muttered angrily. "He can't do that! He can't send you away. I won't let him."

"And just how would you stop him?" Ezra asked with sad look.

"We'll . . . " Vin swallowed heavily before continuing, "run away!"

Ezra shook his head sorrowfully, "You don't have to go. Buck still wants you. You could stay here and live with Buck. You could be happy."

"NO," Vin wrapped his hand around Ezra's upper arm and held on, "we're brothers, family. We go together or we stay together!"

"Are you sure, Vin? You don't have to do this."

"I'm sure!"

The first smile that had shown on Ezra's face for two days peeped out and he mirrored Vin's grip on his arm.

"Then we had best make our plans," Ezra said.

7777777

Chris Larabee was not in a good mood. He was unsaddling his horse after another circuit around the town and the surrounding countryside. The countless hours he had put in riding had left him stiff and saddle sore, and hadn't accomplished anything as far as quieting the chaos that filled his mind and heart. The last few days had been a kind of lonely hell for him. His mind told him he should distance himself from the boys to help prepare for their leaving, but his heart was breaking at the loss of closeness. He had taking to avoiding his friends also just to spare himself from the arguments and tension that had invaded the tightly knit group as a result of his decision about the boys. His arms would physically ache to reach for the boys and hold them whenever he saw them so he deliberately tried to avoid looking at them too closely.

The thought of sending the boys away was tearing him up, but he had honestly believed they'd be better off with a regular family . . . until Buck and Josiah had accused him of wanting them gone to protect himself from more emotional pain. Now he could only wonder if that were true. His thoughts kept going round and round in endless circles without ever reaching a definitive conclusion.

Chris gave his big horse one final brush with the curry comb then stepped out of the horse's stall and put it away on the shelf. He was reaching over to pick up his saddle bags where he's slung them over the stall door when Nathan marched into the livery and straight up to him. Without saying one word, Nathan drew back his large fist and punched the surprised man in the face, knocking him to the ground and putting a heavy boot on his chest to keep him there.

"You have got to be the most blind stubborn fool, that I have ever come across," the usually peaceable Nathan growled at the fallen man. He had been simmering like a pot of water at a slow boil since the talk with the other regulators that morning when he had seen the leader riding back into town. Something inside him had finally blown loose and he had taken off after the man to give him good piece of his mind. "Are you so wrapped up in yourself that you can't see what you pushing Ezra away is doin' to that boy? Are you so selfish that you don't care that he's not eatin' or sleepin' at night?"

Concern and anger warred in Chris as he lay on the straw covered floor of the livery and looked up at the ferociously angry man over him.

"You'd best back . . . " Chris started to warn him only to have his breath shut off as Nathan leaned a little harder on his diaphragm. Being a healer did have its advantages when it came to knowing where a body was vulnerable.

"No, YOU'D best listen to ME! That boy is wearing himself out wondering what he did to make you hate him. He's too little to understand that he's not the one that caused the problem. He looks up to you and thinks you can do no wrong so it has to be something he did that caused you to start pulling away from him. You're breaking that boy's heart into tiny little pieces and you are so caught up in yourself that you haven't even bothered to look at him. If you had, you would see he don't smile any more. He don't play. He hardly says more than yes sir or no sir. He's starting to lose weight he can't afford to lose. He's making himself sick and IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!

I've seen some rotten bastards in my time, but I believe you've got to be the biggest I've ever come across if you can look at that child, really LOOK at him, and not care what you're doing to him. If that's true, them maybe you're right. Maybe he would be better off without you!"

Nathan gave one last press of his boot to Chris' chest just for sheer spite before he jerked back and stalked out of the livery. Chris raised a hand to his bruised chest and rubbed as he stared at the doorway where the incensed healer had exited. He slowly sat up and reached beside him to retrieve his fallen hat. He dusted the straw off it while mentally reviewing the words his friend had just thrown at him. He set his hat back on his head and finally stood up.

Was it true? Was Ezra in trouble and he had just refused to look and see it? Chris knew it took a lot to rile the exslave- turned-healer. That the man had actually reached the point that he would throw the first punch made it even more serious in Chris' eyes.

"Oh, God! What have I done?" Chris whispered to himself in agony. Concern for Ezra had him heading out of the stable at a fast clip and heading toward the jail.

"Where's Ezra?" Chris' voice whipped out into the quiet air of the jail and caused JD to jerk upright in surprise and almost fall off his chair.

"Over at the boardinghouse," a startled JD answered without thinking.

Chris spun around and left without another word. His black duster flapped wildly behind him as he hurried into the boardinghouse and up the stairs. He checked the parlor but found it empty so continued to the boy's room. His hand lifted to push open the partially closed door when the words being spoken by the room's occupants stopped him cold in his tracks.

"How long do you think we'll have before they try to send you away, Ez? It'd be easier to get supplies together without anyone being suspicious if we do it over several days."

"I don't have any idea, Vin. We'd best plan on getting as many as we can now, and getting the rest at the first town we come too."

"I was talking to JD and he said the closest town to here is Eagle Bend. It's only half a day's ride. We could get what else we need there then disappear."

"Very well. That covers the area of supplies. The next problem to be solved is how to sneak our equine friend from the livery stable."

Chris leaned his head against the door frame in despair. They were making plans to run away! They were running, not because of Buck, JD, Nathan or Josiah, but because of him. The knowledge cut deeper than the sharpest knife.

Chris straightened, pushed open the door and moved inside. Vin was the first to see him and Chris watched in sorrow as the little body stiffened at the sight of him and eyes that had looked at him with affection and trust just a few days ago now looked at him with anger and distrust. Ezra turned to face him after he looked over his shoulder to see what Vin was looking at and Chris saw the walls slam into place. For the first time since he had found the little boy, Chris had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. Ezra had completely shut him out . . . and it hurt.

"Vin, would you mind going to help JD in the jail for awhile? I need to talk to Ezra for a little bit," Chris asked softly.

Both boys stiffened in fear, afraid that their time had run out and Chris had come to take Ezra away.

Vin stepped in front of his twin and faced down the man towering over him. His whole body was vibrating with the need to stop his brother from being taken away.

"You leave him alone!" Vin yelled at him. "He's staying with me! I won't let you take him away."

Chris advanced into the room with the slow, weary steps of a man twice his age and collapsed on the bed. His head dropped into his hands as he was overcome for a moment with grief for the damaged he had caused with his total disregard for the boys' feelings and wants. He had finally taken a good look at Ezra's physical condition and discovered Nathan was right: Ezra was pining away. The thought scared him right down to his toes. Both boys watched in confusion as the blond man rubbed his hands wearily over his face a few times before raising it and looking at them.

"I didn't come here to take Ezra away, Vin. I give you my word. I just need to talk to him."

Vin watched him grimly then he and Ezra exchanged one of their "looks" and Vin nodded slowly.

"Alright . . . but he better be here when I get back!" Vin said sharply and threatened, "Or I'll get Buck to shoot you!"

"Understood," Chris agreed, knowing he deserved it, and watched as Vin gave his twin one last look then slipped out the door.

"Will you come sit here on the bed with me for a minute, please, Ezra?"

"I am most comfortable where I am, thank you," Ezra, poker face still firmly in place, answered.

"Please, Ezra?" Chris tried again.

He watched as the boy paused, indecision clearly showing in his body language, before Ezra slowly climbed onto the bed. Chris felt the ache in his heart increase as the little boy chose to put almost the length of the bed between them instead of cuddling close to his side as he once would have done.

"I think I need to explain some things to you," Chris said.

"There is no need, Chris . . . Mr. Larabee,"

"Yes there is a need, Ezra. A big one if you've taken to calling me Mr. Larabee. I need to explain some things to you, and I don't know where to start."

"Shall I help you then?" Ezra fought hard to keep the trembling that he hid by sitting on his hands from showing in his voice as he continued, "You have decided that it would be better for you if I was gone."

"NO! No that's not what I was going to say, son."

"I'm not your son," Ezra said flatly.

Chris breathed out a deep sigh and rubbed his face with his hands again.

"No, you're not my son, and I'm not your father, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you, Ezra," Chris told him.

A disbelieving eyebrow managed to arch before Ezra brought it back under control.

"It's true, Ezra. I know I may not have been acting like it the last couple of days, but I swear to you it is true. I . . . guess . . . I can't offer you any excuses, Ezra. I thought I was doing what was better for both of us. Now I just don't know," Chris said wearily.

"I can perhaps see where it might be more advantageous for you to be unencumbered, but why would you think that sending me away would be better for me?" Ezra asked.

"You're not an encumbrance, Ezra, never that. Not to me. It's exactly the opposite," Chris said.

He swung around and pulled one leg under him so he could face the boy completely. He wanted Ezra to be able to see how much he meant his next words.

"You are so completely precious to me, Ezra. I think it would kill me if something happened to you."

Ezra's green eyes rounded in surprise as he looked deep into Chris' and read the absolute truth shining back at him. He meant it! Chris actually meant every word he was saying. Ezra couldn't believe it.

"Then . . . why?" Ezra whispered.

"I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I thought you would be better off, safer, with someone else. I thought you'd be happier with a family that you wouldn't have to worry about. My job is a dangerous one, Ezra. I don't want to take the chance on leaving you alone and vulnerable again. I want you to be taken care of always.

I never told you this before but I had a son once. His name was Adam. He and his mother were killed in a fire while I was away. It hurt so much when they were killed that I wanted to die too. It took me the longest time just to feel like living again. And then you came along and brought the joy back into my life that had been missing for so long.

Adam was my son and I loved him, Ezra. He died because I wasn't able to protect him or his mother. You're not my son, but I love you just like you were. I want to protect you like I wasn't able to protect Adam. I guess I was also trying to protect myself too. I didn't want to face the pain that might come if something happened and I lost you."

Chris opened his arms to the child and watched the battle that waged in the boy. He could have wept for joy when Ezra slowly, cautiously slid across the bed and into his arms. Chris closed them around him and had to restrain himself from crushing the child in his relief.

"I swear I wasn't deliberately trying to hurt you the last couple of days, Ezra. I was just so wrapped up in trying to decide what was the right thing to do . . . I guess I wasn't paying good enough attention to how you were feeling. I'm so sorry, son."

Ezra rose to his knees and wrapped his arms around Chris' neck and held on tight. The man knew without asking the precious gift of forgiveness had been granted by the child.

"If you truly love me, then don't send me away, Chris! I don't want to go. I don't need a family because I already have one. You, Vin, Buck, JD, Nathan, and Josiah are my family. That's all the family I want or need. If you want me safe then keep me safe. You and the rest of my family are the only ones I would trust to do it. Besides, I once saw a man in a restaurant choke to death on an orange seed. He was a tailor. He didn't have a dangerous job or lead an exciting life where he took risks, but he still wound up dead. So being in a safe place, earning a safe living, and leading a safe life won't guarantee I'll BE safe."

Chris sighed and drew the little boy closer. He rested his cheek on top of Ezra's head and breathed in the scent of soap and little boy.

"I still need to make sure you're protected, Ezra."

"Then you'll have to make sure of it yourself, because if you send me away I won't stay there," the mutinous little voice stated unequivocally.

"Stubborn mule," the man's tone of voice held more affection than censure as he spoke.

"I find that statement to be something on the order of the proverbial pot calling the kettle black, or," Ezra tried to stifle a small giggle, "as Vin might say, it takes one to know one."

For the first time in days, Chris Larabee started to laugh.

"Well then Mr. Kettle, would you care to accompany Mr. Pot to the restaurant for a meal? I'm suddenly really hungry and it looks like you could use one," Chris told the boy, pulling at the too lose shirt.

Reminded of just how little food it had received lately, Ezra's stomach picked that moment to surprise them both with a growl and the child hurriedly tried to cover it with his hands.

"I believe could partake, Mr. Pot" he grinned up at the man smiling down at him.

"Food it is then," Chris said, giving him one last hug.

Both feeling better than they had in days, the man and boy left the boarding house and headed to the restaurant to satisfy their suddenly voracious appetites. A new sense of peace fell between the two as they walked with Ezra's small, trusting hand held securely in Chris' large one.

NINE

"Chris! Buck!" JD's strident voice broke into the peaceful morning scene where the two regulators and the twins were eating a leisurely breakfast in the dining room of the boarding house.

"Now, Mr. Dunne, what have I told you about exercising proper behavior inside my house?" Mrs. Jeffers, the proprietress of the boarding house, stood with her hands on her ample hips as she gave the sheriff a disapproving stare.

JD skidded to a stop with a chagrinned look at the woman.

"Uh," JD stammered, "Sorry, Miz Jeffers."

The landlady sniffed and turned her back on the young man to bend and remove an empty platter from the table.

"Some people could use a few lessons in the correct way to comport themselves in a polite establishment," the woman said archly, addressing the two boys sitting at the table biting their lips to keep their smiles in check. "Perhaps you boys would be kind enough to give him some instruction."

"I said I was sorry," JD grumbled under his breath.

The Sheriff waited until the woman returned to the kitchen to turn back to his friends with a scowl.

"I have some free time this morning if you'd care to begin your lessons," Ezra told him with a straight face.

Vin slapped both hands over his mouth to contain his giggles as JD's scowl deepened and he glared at Ezra.

"Ha, ha. Very funny, Ez."

"What has your drawers in such twist this morning, JD?" Buck asked, wiping up the last bit of gravy on his plate with a biscuit and popping it into his mouth.

JD suddenly remembered why he had originally come inside and said, "The morning stage just arrived and Judge Travis was on it. He's over at the newspaper office."

Silence abruptly dropped like a blanket over the room. Both men sitting at the table tensed with the automatic battle readiness that made them so good at their jobs.

"Go find Josiah and Nathan, and tell them to meet us at the jail," Chris snapped out the order.

JD spun around and hurried outside to carry out his instructions. Buck looked at his old friend with worry.

"Chris?" he asked only to be cut off by Chris slicing his glance toward the boys.

"You boys need to finish your breakfast," Chris told them. "We have to get going."

Ezra stared at the two men for a moment then nodded and finished the last of his milk. Vin's head swiveled between Buck and Chris, curious and becoming anxious about their sudden mood change.

"Buck? What's wrong?" the boy asked.

Buck pasted a reassuring smile on his face for the twin's benefit and answered, "Nothing you need to worry your head over. Just some business that needs taking care of."

"Mrs. Jeffers," Chris said when the woman reentered the room to continue clearing the table, "would it be alright if Ezra and Vin stayed with you this morning while we take care of some business?"

"Why certainly, Mr. Larabee," she said giving the boys a big smile, "perhaps Ezra and Vin wouldn't mind helping me bake some sugar cookies."

Both children perked up at the suggestion and nodded eager agreement.

"Good, that's settled then," she said with another smile for the regulators before she bustled out of the dining room with her hands full of dirty dishes.

"You boys be good for Miz Jeffers," Buck said and ruffled their hair.

"Will you be long?" Ezra asked quietly. In his experience, Judges were always trouble.

Chris smiled and bent down to hug the boy then said, "I don't know. You and Vin stay with Mrs. Jeffers, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

With one last look over their shoulders the boys followed the boarding house owner into the kitchen, and the men left the boarding house to join the rest of their friends at the jail. They never made it.

"Chris. Buck," Judge Orin Travis stepped out of the door way of the newspaper, closely followed by Mary, and greeted the two peacekeepers.

"Judge Travis," Chris returned tersely.

"I heard some unexpected and disturbing news, gentlemen," the judge said.

"I'll just bet you did," the blond regulator snapped and threw a glare at the woman standing behind the old man.

"Chris, I," Mary began but broke off when Chris ignored the protest and turned his eyes away from her to concentrate on the judge.

"I'll be holding court in the Grain Exchange in fifteen minutes. We'll discuss the issue of the boys' welfare then," Travis declared.

"There's nothing to discuss," Buck told him, smoldering.

"I disagree," the judge replied. "Fifteen minutes, gentlemen."

Buck stood staring at the retreating back of the man, his fists clenched at his side.

"What do we do now, Chris?"

"You heard the man," Chris said flatly, "Go get the others and bring them to the Grain Exchange."

"Chris?" Buck was really worried by his friend's reaction or rather his lack of one.

"Just go get the others," Chris told him and started walking after the Judge, passing by a silent Mary Travis as if she didn't exist.

Buck threw a frustrated look after his leader then stomped off toward the jail. Mary stared after the men and sighed in sadness before stepping back inside the newspaper office and closing the door.

When the other regulators arrived at the impromptu courtroom, they found Judge Travis seated behind the desk he used for his official bench looking through some papers and Chris leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed on his chest and no expression on his face. The new arrivals filed in and took up places around the room, no one breaking the silence that filled the place, until the Judge cleared his throat and looked up a the men.

"So tell me about these boys," he said.

At first, all the men looked at Chris, expecting him to explain, but the man in black just continued to stare at the toes of his boots and remained silent. Buck stepped forward and began the tale of how they had found the boys and why they were running. Josiah stepped forward with the telegrams he had retrieved from the jail verifying the many crimes that on Maude Standish had perpetrated on unsuspecting people across several states and through out the territory, and the replies they had received to Chris' requests for information on Justin White who had apparently disappeared the same day that Vin and Ezra escaped. JD stepped forward with Edward Standish's journal with the proof of the grandfather's guilt in the murder of Gunter Svenson. Nathan told of White's attempted murder of the boys.

All through the men's recitation, Chris kept his silence, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts. Which, in fact, he was. The man was thinking about all he had learned since the boys had entered into his life. Chris had never realized there was such an empty place in his life until Ezra had slipped into it and filled the hole so perfectly that it was almost as if the boy had been born especially to fit into it. At first he had worried that he was just using Ezra as a substitute for his dead son, but had soon realized that it was Ezra himself that he needed. The loss of his son still burned in his soul. Ezra helped to make that loss a little easier to bear, but didn't erase it. Ezra had called out to a different part of him; filled him with a quiet joy that was uniquely associated with Ezra. He believed without a doubt that if Adam had still been alive when he had found Ezra he would still have felt exactly the same way for the chestnut-haired boy.

The thought of having to live the rest of his life with the bleeding chasm that Ezra's absence would leave now was anathema¹ to the man that had already lost too much in his lifetime. Even though he knew Ezra would be better off in a regular home with a normal family and he was being selfish to even consider it, the gunslinger could not let the boy go. They belonged together. It was as simple as that he decided. After all the soul searching and pain he had caused himself and the child with his indecision before, things finally focused in his mind with absolute clarity: they belonged. And where Ezra went Vin would go too. The two were a matched set. There could be no splitting of the twosome now that they had finally found each other. Chris searched his heart and found Vin had already started carving a niche for himself there as well. The heart that he had thought had turned to stone with the death of his family was turning out to be surprisingly elastic. He found it had more than enough room to accommodate the small blond child with the devilish sense of humor also.

Come hell or high water, Chris Larabee vowed, they would all stay together even if he had to do battle with the devil himself and all the demons in Hell to make it so. Providence had blessed him on that stormy night he had found the two cold, sick little boys shivering in that ramshackle barn and Chris would do what ever it took to protect the gift he had been given: WHATEVER it took. His decision made, Chris relaxed and leaned more casually against the back wall, watching as his friends argued, pleaded, and subtly threatened the Territorial Judge holding court at the desk in the Grain Exchange.

Orin Travis looked at the man in black leaning so calmly against the wall, a little puzzled that he hadn't put forth any arguments in favor of the boys remaining with the peacekeepers. Somehow his silence unsettled the judge more than all the raised voices of the other four put together.

"Do you have something to say to the court before I render a verdict on the matter of the boy's welfare, Mr. Larabee?"

Buck and the other regulators faced their leader, but their pleading looks didn't seem to capture his attention. His steely-eyed stare never strayed from the Judge sitting at the desk in front of the makeshift courtroom.

"Just this, Judge," Larabee's low voice addressed Travis as he stood away from the wall and, with the fluid grace and confidence of a panther preparing to pounce on his prey, slowly walked toward the old man, placed both hands on the top of the desk and leaned forward, towering over the seated man.

Travis was forced to move back from the desk in order to keep the blonde man in view without straining his neck. He regretted the move almost immediately as he recognized the retreat implicitly demonstrated by the action weakened his position of authority over the younger man standing before him, and thus the men that he led.

Chris didn't let the satisfaction he felt at the tactical edge he'd just seized show on his face as he continued, "If you should rule to take those boys away from us . . . who are you going to get to enforce the order?"

Orin Travis stared at Chris in barely concealed shock as the subtle implications of the regulator's words penetrated his mind like a stiletto pushed smoothly, silently, into the heart. He hardly believed the words he had just heard. He and Chris had gone head to head on a few issues in the past and even when the blond man disagreed strongly with his decisions, Chris had always bowed to his authority as judge and employer of the peacekeepers. Now the other man had just drawn the proverbial line in the sand and dared the judge to cross it. It was rapidly becoming apparent to the judge that Chris Larabee was not going to let go of the twins.

With his words Chris had made it unmistakably clear he was ready, willing, and absolutely able to take on the judge, and the whole town if pushed. Judging from the looks of agreement on the other men's faces they would back him in whatever course he chose. Travis had no doubts what the outcome would be if he should decide to ignore the leader's threat.

"I could always call in the Army," Orin tried to bluff.

Larabee smiled thinly and called it, "I believe you might find that a little difficult to explain to the territorial governor, don't you think? Calling out the army to escort two little boys to an orphanage? You'd be the laughing stock of the territory."

"Besides," Buck threw in, "the army is at least four days away from here. Mexico is only one."

"I don't take well to threats, gentlemen," Travis growled trying to keep up the appearance that he was still in control although everyone in the room knew the balance of power had shifted to Chris Larabee.

"Wasn't making any," Chris told him, allowing the judge a measure of face-saving, "You asked me, and I just told it to you like it is."

"Very well," the judge cleared his throat and rapped his gavel on the table. "Court is adjourned while I consider the matter."

Five men filed out of the Grain Exchange and Judge Travis watched them leave in silence, glad there were no other witnesses to the confrontation. When the last man had stepped through the doorway the old man blotted the perspiration from his forehead with his handkerchief and groaned to himself. He couldn't afford to have his best men mutiny. Not only would it set a dangerous precedent for other lawmen in the still wild and too often brutal West, but it would put his grandson and daughter-in-law in harm's way once again. He didn't even want to consider the damage this could do to his reputation and thereby his authority in this territory.

This was a harsh and unforgiving land and in it a man was only as good as his reputation. A judge who couldn't control his own men would certainly be seen as weak, and a judge who was seen as weak was an ineffectual judge. An ineffectual judge opened the door for the kind of rabid vigilantism that he had fought to stamp out for much of his long life.

Although the other four men might or might not realize the razor's edge they were forcing him to walk, Larabee understood the stakes as well as the old man did. The judge . . . hell, the entire territory, stood to loose more that it could afford if Larabee and his men went to war over those two little boys. Remembering the look in those icy-cold, determined hazel eyes, Orin knew war was what it would come to if he tried to remove the boys from Chris and the other regulators.

The Right Honorable Judge Orin Travis found himself in a most unenviable position. He now had the unwelcome task of finding a way of giving in to the regulator's demands without seeming to give in.

"I should have listened to my mother when she wanted me to become a doctor," he mumbled.

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"I'm going to get Ezra and Vin," Chris told his friends as he stepped off the boardwalk and started toward the boarding house.

"Do you think that's wise to take the chance of upsetting the boys that way, Chris?" Josiah's voice calling out to him caused the man in black to turn and face them once again. "I mean, he hasn't given his verdict yet. He could still decide to place them with a family somewhere."

A feral smile crossed the leader's face as he looked at the assembled men and shook his head.

"No. He won't," he said with absolute certainty and resumed his walk to the boarding house.

Buck watched him go and felt the dread that was squeezing his heart at the thought of the boys being taken away lessen with every confident step his old friend took toward the waiting boys. The smile on his face was growing in direct proportion.

"Boys," he said, slapping JD on the back and nearly sending the young man flying from the boardwalk, "The first drinks are on me, when this is done!"

"You're that certain that we're gonna get to keep them?" JD asked hopefully.

"He's certain," Buck said jerking his chin at the man walking into the boarding house without a backward glance. Buck threw an arm around JD's neck. He pulled him in for an enthusiastic nooggie on his head before letting the man go again, "and if he's certain, then I'm certain."

"You place a lot of faith in him, Brother Buck," Josiah told him, trying not to let his hopes get raised too high, just in case.

"You don't know Chris like I do," Buck told him. "The Judge won't rule against him because Chris won't LET him rule against him. If he tries, Chris will come up with something to stop him. Chris has made up his mind and is playing to win. Chris never loses when he makes up his mind because he just doesn't quit . . . ever."

The other men exchanged hopeful looks with one another.

"Here they come," Buck grinned as the two children exited the building in front of Chris. Their hands were filled with as many cookies as they could hold.

"Buck!" Vin ran to the large man, holding out a cookie to him, "Look what me and Ez made! Try one. They're real good."

Buck accepted the crisp sugar cookie from the excited boy and took a generous bite.

"Mmmm, Mmmmm," Buck closed his eyes and played up how good the cookie tasted. "I think that's just about the best cookie I ever tasted. Thanks, Vin."

The boy grinned with delight at the man's appreciation.

"We brought enough for everyone," Ezra said, and he and Vin handed out cookies to the men and accepted their thanks.

"I do believe I would have to agree with Buck," Josiah said and smiled down at the two boys. "These surely are the best sugar cookies I have ever had the pleasure of trying."

Little chest swelling out with pride, Vin told him, "I got to break the eggs and Ezra poured in the sugar. Then we got to mix it all up with our hands." Vin stopped to giggle and threw an amused look at his twin, "Ezra didn't much like that part."

"So the next time we get a hankerin' for cookies we know where to go," Nathan returned the child's grin.

The cookies were consumed by the laughing group within minutes.

"Is your business concluded?" Ezra asked curiously, looking up at Chris for an answer while his little pink tongue licked cookie crumbs from around his mouth.

Chris had to smile as the "little gentleman" forgot himself enough to act like a normal seven year old boy.

"Just about," he answered and settled his hand on the crown of Ezra's head.

"Did it turn out satisfactorily?" Ezra continued.

"It will," Chris assured the curious child.

"Hey, Chris," Buck's voice caught his attention and the blond looked at his friend with one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

Buck nodded his head at Judge Travis who had stepped out of the Grain Exchanged and was waving them over. Chris held out his hand for Ezra and the Ezra grasped it. Buck took Vin's hand in his own and the group made their way to the makeshift courtroom to hear the Judge's decision.

"So these are the boys, hmm?" Travis said as he looked over the top of his spectacles when the boys entered with their guardians. "Hello, Ezra, Vin. I'm Judge Travis."

Vin looked at the old man watching them so closely and felt uneasy. Without thinking, he let loose of Buck's hand and stepped behind the big man. He grabbed Buck's jacket as he instinctively sought the safety Buck represented. He watched nervously from his position, remembering how Chris and Buck had reacted when JD had mentioned that this man was on the stage. He didn't know what was going on, but was wary of the man that had managed to upset his protectors by just coming to town. Buck turned slightly and placed his hand on the back of Vin's head. He stroked the boy's blond hair a few times to soothe him then laid his hand on the little shoulder and gave it a reassuring pat. Vin broke his stare at the old man behind the desk to look up at Buck. Buck gave him a wink and a smile. Vin let go of Buck's jacket but stayed close to his side.

Ezra tensed at the introduction. Although his grip on Chris' hand tightened, the only other outward signs of his unease were the straightening of his back and shoulders and a slight hitch in his breathing. His mind raced as facts connected with other facts and he realized why the Judge was so interested in him and his brother. His head tipped back and he looked up at Chris, trying hard not to show the fear that suddenly overcame him. The man looked down at the boy by his side. He squeezed the small hand still held in his own and gave the boy a reassuring look and a small smile. It was barely a lift of one corner of the man's mouth, but it was enough to have Ezra relaxing again.

The reactions of the boys had not escaped the watchful eye of the Judge. He had seen both boys instinctively reach out for the men by their sides and be comforted with nothing more than a look or a touch. As he scrutinized the two men and the boys he began to realize why the men were willing to fight for them. He could almost see the invisible bonds between them. It made what he was about to say a little easier to accept.

"Boys, I have been apprised of the facts concerning your arrival in this town. I have been asked by Mr. Larabee and Mr. Wilmington and their associates to leave you boys in their care. In fact, they have been most adamant," Travis threw an ironic glare at the regulators, "in their wish to become your guardians. How do you boys feel about that?"

Vin straightened in excitement and looked at Ezra then up at Buck.

"Really?" Vin asked. "We can really stay?"

"Would you like to?" the Judge asked.

"YES!" Vin yelled and threw his arms around Buck's waist.

"And you, Ezra? Would you be happy with these gentlemen?"

"YES! Most certainly yes!" Ezra said looking up at the blond leader whose smile mirrored his own.

"Very well then. After reviewing all the facts presented to me, and seeing that the boys do appear to be happy, and thriving in your care, I have made my decision. Maude Standish is, by all accounts, a criminal wanted in several cities for her activities will probably wind up one day in prison for her misdeeds. I find it unlikely that she will be able to provide a proper home for the boys. Her lack of conscience and complete disregard for the welfare of her stepson, as shown by her attempt to sell him into the worst kind of slavery, I find shocking and repulsive. I believe her to be completely lacking in the morals necessary to raise these two children properly.

As for the maternal grandfather, I am ordering a warrant be sworn out for Justin White's arrest for the attempted murder of the children and the murder of one Gunter Svenson. I am also terminating all rights he might have to the children. Unfortunately, Mr. White has disappeared from his home in Dry Springs and remains at large. He has tried to kill his grandsons once before and constitutes a very real threat to their safety in my opinion. The children need to be protected from him. They need to be cared for by someone who is prepared to provide the protection that they will need night and day along with the regular care that all children require.

You gentlemen have already proven yourselves more than capable of the job. Since all parties involved seem happy with the arrangement, I am ordering that the minor children, Ezra Standish and Vin Tanner, be placed in the care of Chris Larabee and Buck Wilmington respectively. The profession of Mr. Larabee and Mr. Wilmington is by its very nature a dangerous one. Therefore, I am naming Mr. Josiah Sanchez, Mr. Nathan Jackson, and Mr. JD Dunne as secondary custodians to the children. Should Mr. Larabee or Mr. Wilmington be unable for any reason to fulfill their duties as primary custodians, Mr. Sanchez, Mr. Jackson, and Mr. Dunne will have full power to act in their stead to ensure the children are taken care of properly."

Judge Travis banged his gavel on the desk top, and pandemonium broke loose in the Grain Exchange. Five men and two small boys whooped out their happiness at the ruling. Each man made a point of shaking the Judge's hand and expressing their thanks. Ezra and Vin were lifted on Chris' and Buck's shoulders for a ride back to the boarding house to celebrate. Just before Chris exited the door, Ezra stopped him by grabbing onto the doorframe. Chris halted and twisted his head up to look at the child looking back at him so seriously.

"Down, please," Ezra told him, and Chris silently complied.

Before Chris could ask if everything was alright, Ezra ran to where Judge Travis was standing and held out his hand.

"Thank you," he whispered. He shook the judge's hand and looked up at the old man with emerald eyes full of hope and happiness.

Ezra looked at the judge as if the man had just handed him the sun, the moon, and all the stars at one time, and Orin Travis had to clear the lump from his throat before he could speak.

"You are very welcome, son. It was my pleasure."

Giving the judge one last, blinding smile, Ezra stepped back and flew across the room to his waiting guardian. Chris stared at the judge for a moment and a silent message of understanding passed between them. Chris respectfully nodded his head at the judge then picked up Ezra and set him on his shoulders once again. As the two left the building, Orin Travis could hear the cheerful calls from the other regulators for them to hurry up.

There were many times in the Judge's long career that he had wondered if he had done the right thing, made the right decision. As he watched the laughing group disappear into the front door of the boarding house, he knew he would never have to wonder about this one.

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The watch fires were burning when Buck stepped out onto the covered porch of the boarding house. He walked over and joined his oldest friend in leaning against the railing. Both men stood looking out at the town. Most people had retired to their homes for the night, but the saloons were still doing rollicking business. The a tinkling notes of a badly tuned piano could be heard floating on the night air, and the raucous buzz of ranch hands enjoying a night in town was a familiar background hum to the peacekeepers. Although both men were completely relaxed, two sets of practiced eyes still swept the dimly lit streets searching for trouble. Neither man regretted not finding any.

"Going to see one of your ladies?" Chris broke the silence as he lifted his lit cheroot to his lips.

"Nah," Buck answered. "Kinda feel like hangin' around home tonight."

Chris smiled in the dim light that reached them under the porch roof.

"It does feel like home now, doesn't it?"

"That it does," Buck leaned against one of the roof supports and gave a contented sigh. "It's amazing how all it takes is two little boys to make someplace that's just a spot to lay your head down at night into a home."

"Hmmm," Chris agreed quietly. A few peaceful minutes passed then the blond said, "I never thought I would ever have another home. Not after Sarah and Adam were gone. I didn't think I wanted one."

"Are you still having doubts about us taking in the boys?" Buck cast a worried glance at his friend.

Chris shook his head and smiled.

"No. No more doubts," he assured him. "The boys are right where they belong. I'm right where I belong. It took me a long time to figure that out, but I know it for the truth now."

The easy silence returned as they watched the night.

"Do you believe in fate, Buck?"

"Never really gave it much thought one way or the other."

"I never used to, but I keep thinking of the way we found the boys. The chance that we would have been in just that place at just that time was so slim. If we hadn't been transporting those prisoners; if the lightening storm hadn't broken when it did; if we'd chosen to take shelter somewhere else," Chris took another drag on his cheroot then continued, "One change to any of those things and we would never have met the boys. Who knows what would have happened to them by now."

"I'd rather just be thankful that we did find them," Buck told his friend. "It doesn't do any good to dwell too much on what could have happened. It makes better sense to me to concentrate on the here and now."

Chris shook his head again.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"Fate," Chris turned his head to stare at Buck seriously. "I just have this feeling that everything happened at just the right time in just the right sequence to have us find the boys in that barn because it was meant to. Does that sound crazy?"

"Not to me, but then I could be crazy too," Buck grinned, "after all I'm standing on the porch talkin' to you when I could be all snuggled up with Miss Mirabelle."

"I don't exactly see anybody chaining you to the porch railing," Chris told him sarcastically.

"No, I reckon not," Buck admitted. "I just . . . well . . . we just officially got the boys today. That's special. It's . . . it's . . . " the big man shrugged his broad shoulders as he struggled to find the words to describe his feelings, "Special. I want to be here, need to be here, because it's special. I don't really know how to say it. I guess now I'm the one sounding crazy."

"No. I understand what you're trying to say. This is a once in a lifetime day. A day we'll look back on in the years to come when we want to remember what joy felt like. We don't get too many of those days in a lifetime. We shouldn't take them for granted, but treat each one that comes our way with respect because it IS so rare."

"That's it," Buck agreed. "It's not an ordinary day. It's not a time for ordinary things. Feels kinda like my birthdays did as a kid. Never wanted those days to end either."

"There's where we disagree," Chris told him as he flipped the butt of his cheroot in the dirt street. "I can't wait for this day to be over."

Buck jerked his head around to stare at his friend in surprise.

"What!"

"Yep," Chris told him with a smile, "Because now the boys are with us to stay. Having those two around will probably keep things interesting for many years to come. I'm looking forward to seeing what tomorrow will bring. Can't wait to see what happens next."

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The dust covered stage coach pulled to a stop beside the hotel in the equally dust covered town of Eagle Bend. The driver jumped down from his perch on top of the stage and hurried to open the door for his single passenger.

"We'll be stopping here for the night," the driver said as he reached up to help the passenger down to the street. "If you'd like to get yourself a room, I'll bring your bags right in."

A dainty hand emerged from the coach to lie on the man's as its owner stepped gracefully from the coach.

"Why thank you, Sir. You are so kind. You will be careful with the luggage, though, won't you?" the melodious voice asked, the southern accent very apparent. "That IS French leather, after all."

"Of course, ma'am," the driver hastened to assure the beautiful woman.

"When will our journey recommence?" she asked as she scanned the town with a practiced eye.

"We'll be leaving right after breakfast," she was assured.

"Excellent," Maude Standish said as she threw the man a brilliant smile. "I am most eager to reach Four Corners. I have some unfinished business to take care of there."

The End
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