Vindicable

ONE The sound of the lazy wind blowing gently through the trees acted like a lullaby to Chris Larabee, leader of the band of peacekeepers for the small but lively town of Four Corners. The man was stretched out on a blanket underneath those same trees, his black hat resting over his face and his hands, loosely locked together behind his head, acting as his pillow. The faint sounds of happy, childish voices could be heard in the background and added another element of peace to the quiet afternoon. All was right with his world.

Chris was enjoying the sunny day with his oldest friend Buck Wilmington and the two small boys they had taken in. The two men had left the town in the capable hands of their friends and snuck away to spend some alone time with their twin wards, Vin Tanner and Ezra Standish. The picnic lunch the men had packed in their saddlebags had been eaten, and Buck and boys had wandered down to the creek and were fishing, leaving Chris comfortably ensconced on the blanket they brought along for their picnic. Chris figured he owed Buck one for entertaining the twins and allowing him to take a quick nap.

Although Chris had been looking forward to the outing that they had been planning for the last two days, he had not been able to get any sleep the previous night. He had taken not only his own patrol the previous evening but Nathan's as well when the town's only healer had been called away suddenly to one of the neighboring ranches for an emergency. Ezra and Vin had risen early that morning, excitement over the promised trip making them bubble over with enthusiastic good cheer that he could have done without before his first cup of coffee. Despite his exhaustion, Chris had tried his best not to spoil the trip for the children, but the lack of sleep combined with warm sunshine and a full stomach had eventually caught up with him. As Buck led the boys away, Chris had settled back. He savored the feel of the warm sun on his body, feeling each individual muscle as it relaxed before he gently slipped into sleep. The sun had started a slow decline in the sky before he woke again.

PLOP. PLOP. PLOP.

Chris woke with a start, confused as he felt cold wetness run down his cheeks into his hair. He opened his eyes to see emerald green eyes, shining with mischief and delight, watching him closely and his own black hat perched precariously on a little brow. His ward, Ezra, was standing over his prone body holding a sopping wet rag over his head and it was the drops of water dripping from the rag onto his face that had woken Chris from his nap. The man watched the boy's dimples grow even deeper as his smile widened in glee while he waited for his guardian's reaction. Chris quickly sat up and made a grab for the child, but Ezra jumped back and Chris' hand clutched nothing but air.

"You little scamp!" Chris said with mock anger, "What do you think you're doing, waking me up like that?"

"I was merely wondering if you remembered to wash up after luncheon," Ezra drawled. "I thought I might save you some time by helping you with it."

"That doesn't explain what you're doing with my hat," Chris said, doing his best to keep the grin that wanted to break free from showing on his face.

Ezra gave a flippant shrug, and started backing away as he told him, "My hat. I found it, and they do say that possession is nine tenths of the law."

Chris lost the battle with his grin. He hopped to his feet and started toward his young ward, matching him step for step.

"Gimme my hat!"

"I believe I would have to dispute your claim of ownership," Ezra answered.

Chris could see the playful anticipation growing in the young face. With a loud whoop, Chris made another grab at the boy, deliberately missing. Ezra turned on his heel, took off running, and the chase was on.

"Gimme my hat," Chris called, amused laughter spilling out as he chased the boy.

"My hat!" was the laughing answer.

"Come back here with that!"

Chris skidded to a stop and had to catch his balance as Ezra did a quick direction change and slipped under the man's arms, running behind and away from him.

"Come back here, you young jackrabbit," he yelled.

"What's the matter, Chris? Getting old?" Buck called out.

Chris speared a glance toward the voice and saw his friend, standing with a grinning Vin beside him, watching as Chris chased a merrily laughing Ezra around the clearing.

"I don't remember you doing any better when Vin took off with your boots last week," Chris smirked.

"Not the same thing at all, Pard," Buck tried to convince him, "Man can't be expected to run full out in his stocking feet."

"That's not what you said that time in Kansas City."

"A Papa with a loaded shotgun adds an extra incentive that a pair of boots alone just don't have," Buck answered with a grin.

"No doubt," Chris replied before once again taking off after Ezra who had taken advantage of his inattention to put some distance between them.

The game continued for several minutes, Ezra just managing to stay out of arm's reach until he stumbled on an uneven patch of ground and started to fall. Chris' strong arms caught him before he ever hit the ground.

"Gotcha!" Chris yelled in triumph, grabbing his hat and placing it back on his own head.

Chris hoisted the squirming child up until he has hanging across Chris' hip, one of the man's arms locked around the boy's middle to secure him in place, and leaving the man's other hand free to begin tickling. Ezra's delighted giggles filled the air. Chris continued with his tickle torture until Ezra started to hiccup then he set the child down on the ground and crouched in front of him.

"You know," The man mused with a smile, "I always wanted a jackrabbit for a pet when I was a boy. Never could catch one, though. You run as fast as one. Maybe I'll keep you as my pet jackrabbit." Chris said and started gently tugging on the boys ears as he continued, "Ears are a little short though. Guess we'll have t pull 'em out some. Can't have a rabbit without long ears."

Ezra clapped his own hands over his ears and shook his head quickly.

Chris laughed and hugged the child close.

"Well then, Rabbit, you best be leaving my hat alone in the future," Chris mock threatened.

"He's right, Ez," Buck threw in with is own grin, "It's the unwritten law of the West. You never mess with a man's horse, his gun, or his hat less you're lookin' for trouble."

Ezra glanced at the hat in question sitting once again on Chris' head then cocked an eyebrow at his guardian and grinned. Chris looked at the grin and shook his head.

"They should have named you Ezra T. Standish. T for trouble," Chris told the boy with another tickle to his ribs before rising to his feet and reaching out for Ezra's hand. "It's getting late, boys. It's time to start back."

Amid cries of "Aww do we have to," and "Can't we stay just a little longer" (mostly from Buck), the two adults packed up and were soon headed back into town. The ride back to their home was quiet as the children, tired from the day's exertions, quickly succumbed to the rhythm of the horses' plodding hoof-beats and dozed off, safe in the arms of their individual protectors. It was a very contented foursome that rode down the main street of Four Corners to the livery stable.

"Hey Chris," JD Dunne, sheriff and the youngest of the town's peacekeepers, called as he entered the livery while the two men were brushing down their horses.

Ezra and Vin were sitting on an empty barrel in the corner, occupied with some private little game as they waited for Chris and Buck to finish their chore before heading home to the boarding house. With the arrival of the young man, both boys hopped from their perch and ran to greet him.

"Howdy, boys. How'd the picnic go? Did you catch any fish?"

"Nah," Vin said with a shrug. "They weren't biting today."

"That's too bad. I was looking forward to a fish dinner," JD said smiling down at the twins.

"Personally, I find Mrs. Jeffers' fried chicken more to my tastes," Ezra said. His nose wrinkled at the thought of the last lesson Buck had given him in fishing…the one that included how to gut and clean them.

JD chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair before returning his attention to his leader.

"Mary brought a letter to the jail for you" JD informed him.

"Ooooo-wweee," Buck immediately started teasing. "You sly dog! You're getting love letters from Mary and you didn't tell me. I'm hurt, Chris. Don't I tell you all about my ladies?"

"Whether I want to know or not," Chris grumbled; Buck grinned.

A laughing JD handed the envelope to Chris and returned to the jail. Chris stuffed it into his coat pocket and continued grooming his horse. The twins climbed the ladder to investigate the hay loft while the men finished up.

Giving his horse one last swipe of the brush, Chris stepped out of the horse's stall and closed the stall door. He took a moment to put away the brush then walked over and sat down on the barrel the twins had been using before, reached into his coat pocket for the letter and tore open the envelope. He pulled out the single sheet of paper and read

Mr. Larabee, I don't know if you remember me, but a few weeks ago you telegraphed me here in Dry Springs asking for information on Justin White who you stated was responsible for the murder of Gunter Svenson, a resident of Cedar Bluffs. At that time, the only news I was able to give you was that White had disappeared, along with his grandson. I will admit I assumed that the man must have gotten wind of your investigation and fled, but I'm afraid we have discovered today that is not the case. The remains of Justin White were found on his ranch today by some ranch hands from the neighboring ranch rounding up steers that had wandered onto his property through a broken fence. It appears he died when someone clubbed him on the back of the head. It is difficult to say with any certainty how long he has been dead although our doctor estimates it must have been several weeks, and it has been over two months since he was last seen in town. He was found in a clearing near a cave that showed signs that someone may have been living or hiding there. Many have speculated that Mr. White surprised a cattle rustler or some other kind of criminal and was killed. To date there has been no evidence to suggest who might have committed the murder. There is still no trace of his seven year old grandson, Vin Tanner. I would appreciate any information you could give me that might help in tracking down Justin White's murderer. Perhaps the man can be persuaded to reveal what he did with the boy, although I hold little hope of finding the child alive after all this time. I am very much afraid he may have met the same fate as his grandfather. All that's left for us to do now is to bring the murderer to justice. While not the most popular man in this town, Justin White was still a citizen of Dry Springs and as such the townspeople want to see his murderer hang for his crimes. I would welcome any assistance that you can give.

Sincerely, Sheriff Robert Manton

"Chris?" Buck's voice penetrated the veil of shock that surrounded the blond man as he read the letter. "You alright? I swear, for a minute it looked like you were about to keel over. What's wrong?"

Chris silently handed the letter to Buck and watched as his friend grew pale.

"Oh, sweet Lord," Buck rasped out, "please tell me it ain't true! Chris, we…"

The other man stopped the rest of his words with a jerk of his chin toward the hayloft.

"Not now, Buck," Chris ordered. "We'll talk about it after they go to bed."

Buck nodded his agreement, his troubled eyes straying upward toward the small blond child that had stolen his heart on the very first day they met. The man could feel his heart clench in fear of how the news might affect the boy. He could remember with crystal clarity the day he and Chris had found Vin and his brother in the dark and musty hayloft in the barn of an abandoned homestead. The two had been chilled to the bone, damp and ill, and suffering from horrible nightmares. It had taken every last shred of control Buck possessed to keep from screaming out his outrage when the children had told the tale of how they had run from Justin White in fear for their lives. Buck had come to hate the unseen man with a passion that boiled his blood when he thought of all Vin had endured at the man's hand. It looked like the bastard had one final, devastating blow to deliver to the child.

Vin was surprisingly happy and well adjusted for someone who had gone through the experiences he had. Vin had lived with his mother and grandfather for the first five years of his life. During that time, his mother had acted as a buffer between Vin and the grandfather that had used his grandson as a vent for his anger at Vin's father, the man that had stolen his fortune. After the death of his mother, Vin no longer had his champion to stand for him and so for two long years he had been subjected to beatings and the cruelest and most demoralizing verbal abuse. Vin's back still bore the scars from the two years of abuse he had endured. The internal scars where there as well, but mostly manifested themselves in the nightmares that still occasionally overwhelmed the child in the night. It had broken Buck's soft heart every time the young Vin had unconsciously started and tensed at any sudden movement of the two men after the child had come to be in their care. It had taken weeks for the boy to relax enough with them to stop.

Buck attributed Vin's ability to look for the good in any situation or person to those five years he spent under the loving guidance of his mother. The woman had instilled a strong work ethic in the child as well as a set of deeply held values to go along with the positive attitude. It was those values that had Buck worried now.

Vin still lived in the black and white world of childhood. There was good and there was bad; there was right and there was wrong, and there was no in between. Vin had not yet learned that sometimes life wasn't so simple and there where plenty of grey areas. Buck knew exactly which side of the scale Vin would set himself on if he learned that the blow he had given his grandfather while trying to stop him from strangling his twin was most likely the one that had caused the bastard's death.

Chris reached out and pried open Buck's hand that hand unconsciously clenched around the letter and pulled the paper free, folding it and returning it to his coat pocket.

"We need to get the boys home," Chris told him quietly. "There's nothing we can do about this right now," Chris gestured toward his pocket as he spoke, "So we put it away and take care of business. It's almost supper time. We need to get the boys home and washed up."

Buck nodded reluctantly and the two men rounded up their charges and headed for the boarding house. If the two men were a little quieter than normal, the two boys were too happy and wound up from their outing to notice.

7777777

By mutual agreement, Buck and Chris had not mentioned the contents of the letter to the other regulators. After supper the two men had played with the children as usual and put the boys to bed at their regular bedtime. Each man did his best to appear normal for the children although Buck had to struggle to contain his urge to sweep Vin up into his arms and hold him tightly. He wanted to shield Vin from the pain that he knew would be visited on the boy if he ever learned of the letter's contents. If he snuck in a few extra rubs to the boy's back or another hug as they wrestled on the floor, Vin soaked up the affection and didn't think anything of it.

The time Chris had been dreading had finally arrived. He was alone with Buck in the parlor to discuss the letter. He knew this was not a conversation he wanted to have, but knew it was inevitable all the same. Sighing, Chris took a seat in one of the chairs and watched as his friend agitatedly paced the floor. Buck came to a stop in front of the fireplace where a small fire had been built to ward off the chill of the night and swung around to face the blond man watching him so closely.

"Give me the letter," Buck said.

"To do what with it?" Chris questioned.

"Burn it!"

Chris shook his head sadly and replied, "It won't help, Buck. You could destroy the paper but you'll never destroy the event that sparked it. Justin White is dead…by Vin's hand."

"Damn it, Chris, you can't know that for sure," Buck denied heatedly, grasping at straws in his need to protect the boy. "You weren't there. Anything could have happened to the man after Vin and Ezra left. You can't prove that it was Vin who did it."

"No," Chris agreed quietly, "and you can't prove that he didn't either, but we both know that what mostly likely happened is he died after Vin knocked him in the back of the head with that branch when he was trying to stop the man from strangling Ezra. The fact that they found White in the clearing by the cave where Vin and Ezra left him pretty much speaks for that."

"So what if it does!" Buck ground out angrily. "What difference does it make? The man deserved to die! You know it as well as I do! He was a lily-livered canker that beat on his own grandson and worked him until he dropped. The bastard got what he had comin' to him. Who cares who actually brought him down?"

Buck slashed a heated glare at his friend who continued to sit quietly watching as he ranted.

;"I say we burn the letter, and forget we ever saw it," he finished, "No one ever has to know, including the boys."

"Do you really think that's possible, Buck?" the blond man asked quietly. "I know you only want to protect Vin, but you're not thinking this through. You can't just sweep this under the rug and forget it."

"Wanna bet?" Buck challenged.

Chris sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache starting to build behind his eyes as he tried to talk sense to his friend.

"You and I might be able to keep this a secret Buck, but aren't you forgetting the sheriff in Dry Springs? Do you honestly think that Sheriff Manton is going to let this go? The man's looking for answers. What happens if he finds them? What if they're the wrong ones? Are you willing to sit by and perhaps let an innocent man hang for a murder he didn't commit?"

"I don't care about anybody else!" Buck's voice rose in anger, "I care about Vin!"

Larabee knew it was only is friend's concern for Vin talking so he valiantly held on to his temper as he continued to reason with him.

"It was self defense, Buck. The sheriff will understand that. Nothing will happen to Vin. I doubt he or Ezra will even have to talk to the sheriff or anyone about it. If they want proof of the kind of man Justin White was we'll only have to show them Vin's back and maybe Ezra's father's journal. We're not talking a trial and a hanging here, Buck," Chris tried to reassure the man.

"No! We're talking a seven year old boy who took a branch half as big as he is and knocked his own grandfather in the head with it and killed him! That's what we're talking about here, Chris. That's what this is all about!"

Neither man heard the shocked gasp that escaped from the child standing in the shadows near the parlor door. If they had they might have chased after him but they remained unaware of the broken hearted little child that fled back to his bedroom.

"You know Vin won't be able to handle the knowledge that he killed his grandfather, and it won't matter to the boy whether it's labeled murder or self defense. All he's gonna understand is that he killed somebody. It would tear him apart, Larabee, and I'M NOT LETTING YOU OR ANYONE ELSE DO THAT TO HIM!"

Buck's voice instead of rising to emphasize his last words, had dropped to the low, deadly tone that Chris had only heard a few times in their long friendship. The hardened gunslinger couldn't help the momentary shiver that crawled up his spine as he stared into the eyes that had suddenly turned into icy blue flames that threatened to freeze the soul right out of anyone stupid enough to try to oppose him. Although Buck was normally an easy going fellow, he had a darker, more intense side that only manifested itself at times when the man felt genuinely threatened or in the deadly defense of a loved one.

Having seen the man in action while in the grip of this protective side of his nature, Chris was extremely careful now, not wanting to trigger a reaction from the man. That the man standing before him was capable of dealing out deadly punishment to anyone who threatened his ward was readily apparent to the blond man. Chris slowly raised his hands in a placating gesture, treating the man standing before him with clinched fists as he would an animal in the wild. He kept his voice low and his tone soft as he tried to talk his friend out of the protective rage that held him in its grip.

"I would never deliberately do anything to hurt Vin. You know that, Buck," Chris told him. "I love the boy, too. I swore to protect him that day in front of the judge just as I did Ezra."

It took several long, tense seconds before the fire in the crystal blue eyes started to die and Buck's stance started to relax.

"Sorry, Chris," he mumbled. "I know you wouldn't hurt Vin."

"No, I wouldn't," Chris reinforced. "And if you truly want me to, then I'll leave it alone even though I don't think your way is the best way to handle it. But if I hear that someone has been accused of the man's murder, I'll have to step forward with the truth. I can't let an innocent man hang when I can prevent it."

Buck nodded his agreement. The two old friends stared at each other for a moment before Chris slowly handed Buck the letter that had sparked their disagreement. Buck stood looking down at the piece of paper he held in his hand then tossed it into the fireplace. Both men stood silently watching as the fire consumed the letter leaving nothing but a small pile of ashes to mark its destruction.

"It's about time you relieved Josiah," Chris reminded him quietly.

Buck nodded once again and turned to leave. He had only taken a few steps when he stopped and swung around to face the other man again.

"Thanks, Chris," he said. Although the words were quiet, Chris could read the heart-felt sincerity behind them.

A faint smile touched the blond gunslinger's face as he told him, "Go on and get." The unspoken message that their friendship was still intact being conveyed and understood.

Buck left for his patrol, leaving his leader to stare after him wondering if he had made the right decision in allowing Buck his way. He saw so many potential problems lying ahead of them. The leader finally shook himself out of his dark thoughts and took himself off to bed. It was a measure of his own great tiredness that he didn't check on the boys once more before retiring for the night. It was an oversight he would come to dearly regret.

At first Ezra was not aware of what had woken him. It took several moments before he realized he had been pulled from sleep by the sound of activity in the darkened bedroom he shared with his twin. Raising up from the bed on one elbow, Ezra stared at the spot in bed that was usually taken up by his brother then turned his head toward the sound of someone rustling through the drawers where their clothes were kept.

"Vin?" Ezra whispered sleepily.

"Shh," came his brother's voice from the dark. "Go... back to... sleep.

"What are you doing, Vin?" Ezra questioned.

"Go back…to sleep…Ezra," the voice repeated, broken by what sounded like hitched sobs to the other child.

Ezra threw back the covers and crawled from the bed to pace over to the shadow that was busy stuffing clothing into a cloth bag.

"What is wrong, Vin? Why are you taking your clothes?"

"I…I…I gotta r...run away, Ez," Vin's broken voice said.

"Run away! But why?"

"Cause I'm a m…m…murderer," said with quiet despair filling each word.

Ezra stepped back in shock at hearing those words.

"No you are not! Why are you trying to lie to me?" Ezra denied.

"It's true," Vin came back with. "I heard B...Buck say so. He was telling Chris…telling Chris…," Vin broke down and began crying.

"Vin!"

Ezra surged forward and wrapped his arms around his brother.

"Who did you murder?"

"Grandpa. I heard Buck telling Chris that I hit Grandpa on the back of the head and I…I killed him!"

"NO!

"But I heard him, Ezra. Buck was standing there, looking all m…m…mad, and he told Chris I killed Grandpa. I gotta run away, Ez. I know what happens to murderers. They get h…h...hung. I'm scared, Ezra. I don't wanna hang," the last was said with fear and horror causing the boy's voice to shake.

"This is all my fault," Ezra said as his eyes began to fill with his own guilty tears. "You were just trying to keep him from hurting me. I'M the one to blame. I caused all the trouble."

Vin shook his head in denial and said, "You didn't do anything Ezra. I'm the one that hit him. I'm the one they're gonna come after. I got to go to Mexico."

"Why Mexico? Wouldn't Denver or San Francisco be better?"

Vin shrugged and said, "I don't know, but that's where everybody says all the m...m...murderers and horse thieves go when they're runnin' from the law. I'm running from the law now, so I got to go to Mexico."

"I'll come with you," Ezra stated and started pulling his own clothing out.

"No!" Vin said. "You don't have to go. You're not the murderer. Nobody wants to h...h...hang you, just me. They won't be coming after you. You can stay here with Chris and Buck."

"But it's my fault you're a murderer, Vin," Ezra told him with shame and regret naked in his voice. "He only wanted to kill us because I told him I knew about the man he murdered. If it wasn't for me, you never would have had to hit him at all. I made you a murderer. I am so sorry, Vin. I never meant for this to happen. Chris is right. My name should be Trouble. I don't deserve to stay here when I am to blame. If you must be punished, then so must I. Besides, you were going to leave with me when I thought Chris didn't want me anymore. You said we were brothers so we have to stay together, remember? If you go then I have to go with you. We'll go to Mexico together."

Vin thought about that for a moment then had to agree with his brother's logic. It helped to know he wouldn't have to be alone.

"Okay then. But we better hurry."

With much sniffling and stifled sobs, the boys quietly dressed then gathered their belongings. As Vin started to lead Ezra from the room, his brother suddenly stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Wait, Vin," Ezra whispered.

"What is it, Ez?"

"If we leave without giving Chris or Buck some idea of why we are going then they may think that we have been kidnapped again."

Vin worried his lower lip with his teeth as he considered this brother's point.

"You're right," he finally conceded. "We have to leave a message so they'll know we ran away ourselves. You do it. You write better then me."

Ezra went to the window with his valise and, using the dim light shining through it, started rummaging through his bag until he found his father's journal and a pencil. He carefully tore a blank page from the back of the journal then, using the book as his writing surface, carefully wrote a message to Chris and Buck.

Ezra read the message to Vin who nodded his approval and the boys left the paper on the bed where Chris and Buck would be sure to see it in the morning. Hoisting their belongings on their shoulders again, they silently snuck from their room and out the kitchen door of the boarding house into the quiet night.

7777777

Buck's mouth stretched in a wide yawn as he slowly climbed the steps to the second floor of the boarding house. He had just returned home from his turn at patrol, gladly turning the duty over to Nathan, and was more than ready for his bed. As he quietly made his way down the darkened hall, he paused outside the twins' bedroom standing for a moment with his hand on the doorknob.

He had been worrying all during the night's patrol over his ward. That worry had transformed itself into a strong urge to check on the boy. Although he made a habit of stopping to check on the boys before going to bed, this night the desire to insure Vin was sleeping peacefully was nearly overwhelming. Buck just had to see for himself that no nightmares troubled his young one. He told himself it was foolish, after all Vin wasn't even aware of the letter or the troubling news it had contained. There was absolutely no reason for him to be concerned, but his protective nature was still aroused. It urged him to open the door and just peek in a minute before taking his own rest. Slowly he turned the knob and pushed open the door just enough to stick his head in.

At first, he was only able to make out shadows in the dark room but as his eyes became accustomed to the lack of light, details impressed themselves on his brain. The most significant detail being the empty bed. Buck quickly pushed the door open the rest of the way and entered the room, no longer caring if he made any noise. He pulled a match from the holder beside the kerosene lamp and used it to light the wick, turning it up high to get the most light possible. He turned and made a visual sweep of the room, growing more and more concerned as it became obvious that the bedroom was unoccupied. As he turned to leave, the piece of paper resting on the unmade bed caught his eye and he stopped to pick it up and read it. He really didn't know what he was expecting on the page but it was definitely not what he did find. Buck stared at the paper in his hand in disbelief as his face paled.

"No. Oh God, please, No!" he whispered.

Buck spun on his heel and sped out the bedroom door. He sprinted down the hall to Chris' room, and threw open the door. He was so upset that the gun that was immediately pulled and pointed at him by the startled gunslinger didn't even register.

"Damn it, Buck!" Chris' sleep-graveled voice growled as he carefully reholstered his pistol and glared at his friend. "That's a good way to get your head blown off."

Ignoring the warning, Buck urgently stated, "The boys are gone!"

"What?" Chris threw the covers back, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and reached for his pants, pulling them over his longjohns as he questioned Buck.

"What happened?"

"One of them must have heard us talking this evening. I found this on their bed."

Buck held out the note he'd found, and Chris snatched it from his hand and read it quickly.

Chris remained silent as he finished dressing then buckled on his gun belt. Although he didn't say anything, Buck could guess his thoughts.

"You were right," Buck remarked flatly. "I should have told him. If I had, I could have explained things, made him understand he didn't need to be afraid."

"Now's not the time for second guessing yourself, Buck," he was told. "You did what you thought was right to protect him. Right now we need to concentrate on getting them back. Go wake up JD and Josiah and tell them to meet us at the jail. I'll round up Nathan."

Chris grabbed his hat and started from the room when Buck's softly voiced words stopped him.

"We're gonna have to tell them, aren't we?"

"They'll want to know why the boys decided to run away. We'll have to tell them the truth," Chris agreed.

Buck sighed sadly and finally nodded his reluctant acknowledgement. Both men left room.

Buck quickly made his way to the jail through the chilly, early morning mist that floated about the town, anxious to begin the search for the boys, but dreading the next few minutes. He had awakened JD and Josiah at the boarding house, simply telling them that Chris wanted them at the jail and then escaping before they could question him. Now he approached the jail at a fast clip, knowing that the scene that was about to take place with his friends would not be pretty.

Nathan and Chris had already arrived at the jail when he entered. He took his hat and nervously tapped it against his thigh as his eye's sought out Chris' to determine if his friend had already explained to the large black man who was sitting in one of the wooden chairs near the wood stove soaking up the heat it was radiating. The blond man shook his head slightly, and Buck wasn't sure if he was relived or disappointed that Chris hadn't informed him of what was going on.

"It's chillier than a witch's heart out there this morning," JD said as he entered the jail with Josiah following behind. The young man immediately made for the stove and stood warming his hands as he looked around as his friends, awaiting some kind of response to his remarks. He went absolutely still for an instant as Chris' next words caught him off guard.

"The boys have run away."

When JD could move once again, he hurriedly glanced at all his friends and asked the one question that stuck out in his mind like a four-masted schooner in the middle of the desert, "But why? Why would they run? They were happy here. What would make them leave?"

He caught the look that passed between Buck and Chris, before the blond leader asked him, "Do you remember that letter you brought me yesterday? The one that Mary left with you?"

Confused, JD answered, "Sure. I remember. Was the letter he cause of this? What...." a raised hand from Chris stopped his words.

"The letter was from the Sheriff of Dry Springs. I telegraphed him, when we first found the boys, asking for information on Justin White. He wired back that White had disappeared. We all assumed he had gone into hiding or was off looking or Ezra and Vin. The sheriff wrote me that letter to tell me that they had found White's body."

"You mean he's dead?" JD said still confused, "but that's good news… isn't it? Now the boys won't have to be afraid of him showing up here anymore. Right?"

Chris shook his head and told him, "They found the body in a clearing right outside a cave on his property...from the sound of it... it's probably the same place he was when the boys took off."

JD watched in confusion for a moment as Nathan's and Josiah's faces turned grim. It took a few extra seconds for the facts to work themselves around in his head and reach the same conclusion that the others had.

"Vin killed him? When he hit him with the tree branch? Is that what you're saying?" JD gasped out in shock.

"Yeah," Chris replied quietly, "That's what it sounds like. There's no way to be one hundred percent sure…but it is the explanation that fits the evidence the best. When Vin hit him to keep him from killing Ezra somehow he managed to bust his skull and the man died later after they left. Neither boy knew it at the time."

"Poor, Vin! He must have felt awful when you told him," JD said, full of sympathy for the brave little boy with the big heart. The lightening fast glance Chris gave to the silent Buck, spawned a wild idea in the young man, one he found hard to believe, but instinctively knew was correct. He looked between the two old friends and stated rather than asked, "You didn't tell, did you?"

Chris sighed heavily and nodded. "Either he or Ezra must have heard Buck and me…discussing… it and got the wrong idea."

"You were discussing it," JD said slowly as he followed his own train of thought to its logical conclusion. "You didn't tell Vin, or Ezra…and you had no intention of telling us either, right? You were just going to keep it a secret between yourselves and let us go on thinking that the boys' grandfather was out there still hunting them. You didn't trust us enough to let us in on the news." JD's voice had grown stronger and louder as he spoke. He ended up on a near shout.

Buck raised a pleading hand toward his young friend, but JD backed away from his touch and stood staring at him with hurt, betrayed eyes.

"It wasn't like that, JD. Honest, it wasn't. This is my doing. I'm to blame. Chris tried to tell me that it shouldn't stay a secret. I should have listened, but all I could think about was how devastated Vin was going to be if he found out. I just wanted to make it all go away. I guess I thought if no one knew then it would go away faster. I just didn't want that boy to be hurt. I swear I never meant to make you think I don't trust you, or Josiah, or Nathan. I just…just…" Buck broke off and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"You were just trying to protect your son," Josiah's whiskey smooth voice interjected calmly, "And you couldn't think of anything beyond that at the time."

Buck looked in surprise at the large man standing beside the window with his arms crossed over his chest, then nodded as a slow smile formed on this handsome face as he accepted the man's perception as the truth.

"In everyway but blood, Vin is my son," Buck admitted. "I messed this whole thing up and because I did, he and Ezra are out there right now, thinking they've got to get to Mexico to keep Vin from hanging."

"But it was purely self defense. No one would ever think otherwise once they heard the way things happened," JD denied, "Nobody's gonna try and hang Vin!"

"I know that, JD, and you know that, but remember the boys are just seven years old. They don't know, and right now their runnin' scared. We have to find them in a hurry before something happens," Buck said, back to being urgently afraid for the boys' safety.

"You're right, Buck. The boys have got to come first right now," Nathan said, "But afterward, we need to sit down and have a little talk. I do believe you need remindin' that the Judge made us responsible for the twins too."

Buck nodded again, resigned to facing the combined hurt and ire of his colleagues upon his return.

"Alright, ladies," Chris brought their attention back to the job at hand, "Saddle up and get ready to ride. We know they're heading for Mexico, but we don't know how long they've been gone. We might have a lot of ground to cover before we find them…and we don't know what shape they'll be in when we do," Chris voiced the thought that worried them all. "Be prepared for anything.

The group moved as a pack to the door of the jail and the five men swiftly made their preparations to follow the runaways, each praying that the children were safe and would be found and returned to them soon.

Ezra rubbed his right wrist against his chest and winced at the sharp pain that shot up his arm. The two boys had been forced to crawl headfirst through a window at the livery stable to reclaim their horse, and unfortunately Ezra had misjudged the distance to the floor. He had instinctively put out his right arm to catch himself as he fell and wound up landing on his wrist, twisting it under him. The continuous dull ache he felt from the injured wrist was interspersed with flashes of sharp, nearly blinding pain when he moved the hand wrong or it came into contact with something else. His wrist was so swollen he had been forced to unbutton his sleeve and push it back to keep from cutting off the circulation in his hand.

The boys were sharing the horse Ezra had bought for their last get away. Vin was riding in front guiding the horse and Ezra was behind him, holding on for all he was worth as Vin pushed the animal hard in his near blinding panic to outrun the "law" that he felt sure must be chasing him by now in order to string him up for killing his grandfather. Ezra had to hold on to Vin with only one hand as the twins rode the horse toward Mexico. Ezra couldn't help but cry out occasionally as the movement of the horse caused the excruciating pain to shoot up his arm once again. He had long since given up on trying to keep the tears wiped from his face. It was a measure of Vin's own distress that he barely noticed how his brother was suffering. While Ezra's focus was on holding on and bearing the pain, Vin's was completely on putting distance between them and any pursuers

"Vin?" Ezra's shaking voice called out weakly. "Can we stop for a little while? Please?"

"We gotta keep moving, Ez," Vin told him gravely.

"Please, Vin!" his brother begged.

Vin looked back over his shoulder at Ezra and couldn't help but notice how pale he was. Tear tracks made rivulets through the dirt that had been picked up on the long ride, standing out in stark contrast on the usually clean face of the boy.

Vin reluctantly nodded and pulled back on the reins, stopping the horse before another tall hill. Ezra slipped gratefully from the horse's back to the ground. Vin tipped his head back and examined the incline, trying to decide if it was too steep to attempt to climb. He hated having to go around these kinds of obstacles knowing it took up time that they needed to evade any pursuers. Time had suddenly become a precious commodity to the frightened little boy.

"We can't stop for long," Vin insisted firmly.

Glad to finally be off the horse, Ezra reluctantly agreed. He sat down on the ground, for once not caring if he got dirty, and held his injured wrist against his chest with his left hand.

Vin dismounted and ground tied the horse. He pulled the canteen down before joining him. The blond boy uncorked the top and took a drink then held it for Ezra and let him drink his fill before recorking it and setting it on the ground beside them.

"Do you think it's broke?" `Vin asked as he watched his brother cradle his wrist carefully.

"I don't know. Maybe," Ezra replied.

Vin started worrying his bottom lip again as he watched his brother suffering.

"I shouldn't have let you come," `Vin whispered guiltily. "You'd be okay if you were still home."

"It was my choice, Vin. I'm the one that decided to go, and I would make the same decision all over again. You couldn't have made me stay if I didn't want to."

"I could so," Vin grumbled, tension making him irritable.

"No, you couldn't," Ezra argued, pain and exhaustion making him just as irascible as his brother.

"Could too!"

"Could not!"

"Yes, I COULD!" Vin shouted.

"No, you could no..." Ezra started to say. Unfortunately the boy had forgotten about his wrist and he let out a gasp instead as he moved too quickly and jolted the injury. The child cried out in agony, and Vin immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry, Ez," `Vin said as he wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders.

"As am I," Ezra said with a sigh, leaning into his brother's arms and accepting the offered comfort. "It is stupid to argue."

"Yeah," the brother agreed. "I don't know why I acted so mean. I don't even know why I was arguing."

"That's alright. I know you didn't mean it. "

"I have an extra shirt,' Vin offered softly. "If we tie the arms around your neck you could use it to hold your arm still. You know ...like one of those things Nathan used on Mr. Johnson when he broke his arm last month."

"A sling," Ezra informed him. The boy considered the suggestion and then nodded his agreement. "That is a very good idea, Vin."

Glad to be able to help his brother in this small way and trying to appease the guilt he felt for getting him into their present trouble, Vin jumped up and went to retrieve his bag from the grazing horse, and pulled the shirt out. He stepped behind Ezra and looped the shirt carefully under Ezra's injured arm and then pulled the shirtsleeves around his brother's neck and tied them together in a loose knot.

Ezra carefully tested the fit of his improvised sling and grinned up at Vin when the other boy came around and sat by him once again.

"That is much better. Thank you, Vin"

The blond boy smiled and nodded absently, his mind already returning to their flight. It was only a few minutes later that the need to make tracks started pushing him again.

"I wish we could stay here a while and let you rest some more, Ez, but we really need to get going soon," Vin glanced at his brother regretfully.

Ezra sighed and began to stand, his movements hampered slightly by the inability to use the arm now resting in the sling.

Grabbing the canteen Vin stood up and reached a hand down to help the other boy rise.

Ezra said when he was on his feet again, "I know, Vin. It's alright. The important thing is to get you to safety. I can rest and take care of my injury then."

Vin frowned and then kicked the ground in anger.

"It's not fair!" he cried. "We finally find someplace to live and people who like having us around and then we have to leave!"

Ezra nodded sadly in agreement and said, "I know…and I'm sorry, Vin."

Vin spun around to face his brother and answered, "It wasn't you that caused it, Ezra! You keep saying it was your fault, but it wasn't! Grandpa was gonna hurt you just because you reminded him of our Daddy, and because he could. It wouldn't have mattered if you said anything or not. He would still have come after you… and I still would have killed him because he did." Vin's shame-filled face turned away from Ezra and he seemed to shrink in on himself as his brother watched.

"If I hadn't come at all…" Ezra began.

"Don't say it, Ez," Vin cut him off sharply. "The best thing that happened to me in my whole life was finding you again. You came for me, and helped me get away. I'd probably still be there now, hiding away from him and trying not to get walloped again. I never would have got a chance to meet you or the guys, or see Four Corners … or find Buck. No matter what happens now, I wouldn't wish that away for anything."

Ezra was silent, slightly stunned at the conviction that rang in his brother's voice. It was several moments before he could clear his throat of the lump that had formed and reply, "Me either. I finally got to feel what it was like to have a home. I never had one of those before, not a real one. Not until I found you and Chris, and our other friends. I will miss…" his young voice broke before he managed to bring it back under control. "But we can't dwell on what we lost. We still have each other."

Vin gave a tiny, valiant smile. He reached out and laid a hand on Ezra's shoulder and repeated the promise they had made to each other on the first night they had met again, "Forever."

"Forever," Ezra staunchly agreed.

Vin took a deep breath and stepped back, letting his hand fall from Ezra's shoulder. "We better get goin'."

Vin lead the way to the horse, gathered the reins, and climbed into the saddle again. He reached down and grabbed Ezra's raised hand to help his injured brother mount. It was as he was turning the horse to go around the steep hill that he heard a sound that set his heart racing in fear, and had his head spinning around to find it. Over the quiet afternoon air came the thunderous sounds of horses being ridden hell-for-leather.

"They're comin",' he screamed. "They're comin' to hang me!"

Such was his fear that all he could think of was escape. Vin suddenly dug his heels into the horse's side and yanked on the reins, aiming the horse for the side of the hill. The sudden movement caught Ezra unprepared, and he made a wild grab for Vin's shirt to keep in the saddle as the horse started up the side of the incline, his incapacitated arm making it difficult to hold on properly. The jerking motions the horse was making as it tried to climb the hill with Vin's heels stabbing it in the stomach trying to coax it to greater speeds kept Ezra off balance. The horse had almost made it to the top when disaster struck. Ezra lost his battle against gravity when his grip on Vin was broken by a particularly hard jolt. He flipped over the back of the horse's rump and fell back.

"VIN!" was all he managed to yell before he hit the hill and started crashing down the side. His cries of pain abruptly cut off as he hit bottom.

"EZRA! NO!" Vin screamed in terror and fought to turn the horse around and head back to the boy that was laying, face up on the dirt, absolutely still. "NO, NO, NO, NO, NO," he repeated, not even realizing he was yelling the words out loud or noticing the tears that were suddenly flowing from his eyes. He flew down the hill, and jumped from the horse's back before it had come to a stop. He ran to the fallen boy and hesitantly touched his brother's face. Gulping sobs racked his small body as he looked on the bloody streaks that marked Ezra's face and the large cut on his forehead that was swelling into a huge knot as he watched.

"Ezra? Ez? Are you okay? Ez? Talk to me Ez! Please! You got to be okay!" Vin sobbed. "Please, be okay!"

"Vin?" Ezra's thin voice broke through the other boy's panic and Vin leaned closer to his face.

"I'm here, Ez. You're gonna be alright, you hear!"

"You need to go, Vin," Ezra whispered. "They're coming. You have to go."

"No! I can't leave you here alone."

"You have to, Vin. I don't want to be the reason they catch you. I don't want to be the one at fault for you hanging. Please go, Vin."

"I can't, Ez," Vin whispered back.

"Please…" Ezra's voice cut off with a little whimper as pain filled his head and he blacked out.

"EZRA! EZRA!" Vin yelled.

7777777

There had been three times in Chris Larabee's life that he had felt his blood run cold. The day during the war when he had hidden, wounded and alone, in the loft of a barn while enemy soldiers looted and pillaged the house. The day Buck had gone after his mother's murderer. The day he had come home to find his ranch burned out and his wife and son dead. He had felt like his blood was full of ice chips on those occasions, but nothing had ever affected him like watching as the boy he had taken into his burned-out shell of a heart fell off his horse and tumbled down the hill, and the sound of Vin's terrified voice screaming out Ezra's name. This time Chris felt that artic clutch of dread all the way down to his soul. He savagely applied his spurs to the black gelding he rode, pushing the horse to even faster speed, for once uncaring of the animal's welfare in his need to reach the child that he could see laying so still on the ground beside the hysterically screaming Vin.

The five men had charged from the town in pursuit of the boys that morning while it was still dark. They had ridden much faster than was actually safe in the limited visibility of the predawn hour. The blond gunman had tried to repress the shudder that snaked down his spine at the thought of two frightened little boys trying to make their way through the gloom. The dangers inherit in riding in the dark kept racing through his mind. Did the boys know enough to avoid them or were they too frightened to think straight? The chill in the desert air just added to the man's worries. Had the children, in their haste to leave, dressed warmly enough? Had they remembered to take food and water? The territory between Four Corners and Mexico was often prowled by wanted men from either side of the border. What would happen if the boys ran into some of them before the regulators could find them? The questions kept going round and round in his head as he rode, continually stoking his worry for the boys.

Chris could see that Buck was in a similar state of agitation. The other man was unconsciously leaning forward in his saddle as his need to find the lost boys drove him. There were lines of worry and guilt carved deep into Buck's forehead, and he knew those feelings would be reflected in Buck's emotive blue eyes. He knew Buck was suffering, blaming himself for everything. Chris hoped nothing happened to the children before they found them, for Buck's sake as well as the children's. He thought his oldest friend would probably crack under heavy load of guilt he would pile on his own shoulders if that happened.

The group of men had been riding for about two hours when they made their way around the base of a hill and had started across the plain lying between that hill and the next one when Chris caught sight of the one thing he had been praying for all night. There at the base of the hill ahead of them he could just barely make out the shape of the two boys climbing back onto the horse.

"There they are!" JD's excited voice called out.

"Thank the good Lord," Josiah expressed his relief.

The five men spurred their horses forward, none of them stopping to consider how the boys would react to the approach of several mounted men riding toward them full out. The hills that surrounded the plain caused the thunder of the horses' hooves on the plain to echo and reverberate off their steep sides, sounding like there were many more horses than the five the men rode.

Chris was leaning low over his horse's neck as he flew across the distance. His relief at finding the children alive and in one piece turning to horror and dread as he watched Vin try to force the horse up the side of the steep hill. His breath stopped as he saw Ezra fall from the horse and land at the bottom again after somersaulting head over heels down the hill face. His heart stopped as Vin's scream reached him.

"Ezra! Ezra!" the words were torn from him as he rode. As he reached the spot where Vin was kneeling beside Ezra, Chris pulled up his mount sharply and threw himself from the horse, ignoring the cloud of dust that was kicked up by the horse's skidding stop. He flew to the boys, only vaguely aware that his friends followed suit.

Chris reached out a trembling hand and brushed back the hair that had fallen into the bloody wound on Ezra's forehead.

"Ezra?" his voice trembling as well as he took in the boy's injuries. "Ezra, son? Are you with me?"

"Chris!" Vin's yell captured the man's attention. "Is he hurt bad, Chris? Is he gonna die?" Vin screamed hysterically. Chris was saved from an answer when Buck ran and threw himself down beside his ward and pulled him into his arms, squeezing him tightly in relief.

"Vin!" Buck's voice calmed the boy's instinctive struggle against the arms restraining him, and Vin turned to throw his arms around the man's neck and held on for all he was worth, his little body shaking hard enough to make his teeth rattle.

"Buck! Ezra's hurt, Buck. I didn't mean for him to fall off! I didn't mean for him to get hurt! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Shh, little one. Shh. It's alright. I know you didn't mean it. It's okay. Ezra is gonna be okay. Shh," Buck kept up his soothing reassurance to the small boy in his arms. He picked Vin up and moved off a few feet from the others before he dropped to the ground to sit cross legged with Vin wrapped around him.

"Nathan!" Chris snapped out and the black healer knelt beside the reunited regulators and children. He carefully conducted an examination of the unconscious Ezra.

"He'll be okay," Nathan sighed with relief. "He's mostly got cuts and bruises. The cut on his head looks worse than it is. He might have a bit of a concussion but I don't think it's too serious. He'll probably have a headache for a while and be a bit stiff and sore, but that's probably all."

Relief flooded through the blond gunslinger and he took what felt like his first easy breath in hours. He carefully pulled the boy into his arms, cradling him gently against his chest as Nathan reached into his bag and pulled out the bandages and bottles of herbal remedies he would need to begin cleaning up the cuts on the child.

Ezra groaned softly at the movement and the pain-filled green eyes opened slowly to stare blankly at the man staring down at him with love and concern written all over his face. The child's eyes filled with tears of relief and he murmured, "Chris."

"Hey, rabbit," the man whispered gently and he stroked a soft hand down the little cheek. "You've had quite a morning run."

"Is Vin alright?" the little boy said as he tried to turn his head to find his brother. This turned out to be a mistake as the pain in his head spiked again and he groaned.

"Just lie still, Ezra," Nathan warned him. "Vin is fine and we're gonna take care of both of you. Vin is with Buck."

"But you have to get Vin to Mexico," Ezra argued. "They're going to hang him! You have to get him away!

Chris tightened his arms around the agitated boy to keep him from thrashing about and hurting himself more in the process and assured the boy, "No one is going to hang Vin. We're not going to let anything happen to him. I promise you, Ezra. Vin will be alright so, please, calm down."

His trust in Chris was absolute so Ezra relaxed into his guardian's arms on hearing his promise. He was more than happy to leave the problem of Vin's safety in Chris' hands. He settled back and let Nathan tend his hurts without further protest. Meanwhile, Buck was busy dealing with his own frightened child.

Vin had buried his face into Buck's shoulder and refused to look at his hero. He needed the comfort of Buck's arms but was afraid to see the disappointment or even hate that he knew Buck must be feeling towards him because he had murdered his own grandfather. Such was his emotional state that it never occurred to him that the man wouldn't be offering comfort if that were true. Buck eventually had to pry the boy away far enough to make the child look at him.

"Are you hurt anywhere, Vin?" Buck asked anxiously.

A quick shake of his head was the only answer Vin gave, his head bowed as he stared at the ground. Buck stroked his hand down the long blond hair of the boy and tried to find the words to convince the child that no one blamed him for anything.

"I'm sorry, Vin," Buck said quietly.

Vin looked up in confusion, not understanding what his guardian was talking about.

"I should have told you myself, explained things to you so you could understand there was no need to run away."

"But Buck…I heard you. You said I killed Grandpa. It was my fault, not yours. You weren't even there."

"We need to talk. There's so much you don't understand, son," Buck said as he pulled the boy back into his arms, feeling the need to physically comfort not only the boy but himself after the long hours of fear and worrying he had endured.

Josiah approached the two and Buck looked up as the older man crouched down in front of them.

"Chris says it's time to return to town."

"Is Ezra alright?" Buck asked softly and Vin turned an anxious face toward Josiah as he waited for his answer.

"He has some cuts and bruises and a sprained wrist but Nathan says he'll be fine," Josiah reassured them both.

"Tell Chris to go on. We'll follow later. Vin and I need to have a little time together," Buck looked meaningfully at Josiah.

The ex-priest nodded his understanding, then patted Vin on his shoulder and told him, "I'm sure glad you and Ezra are alright. We were all worried about you. I would have been very sad if we hadn't found you."

Vin watched in guilty silence as the man smiled at him then rose to his feet again and looked at Buck, "I'll let Chris and the others know you'll be a while. You want me to stay and ride back with you?"

Buck declined the offer stating, "Nah. I think me and Vin need to do this alone, but thanks."

Josiah acknowledged the thanks with a nod and walked back to the others that were gathered around Chris and Ezra.

Buck watched as Josiah spoke with Chris and the blond looked across at him and nodded his acceptance of Buck's intent to stay back with Vin. Within a few minutes, Chris had mounted his horse, Ezra had been lifted into his lap, and the group had ridden away leaving Buck alone with his ward.

Buck drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He pulled Vin around so the boy was sitting across his lap while he chose his next words.

"Why did you run away, Vin?" Buck asked softly.

"I heard you talking to Chris. You said I killed Grandpa. I know killing people is a bad. People who kill other people get hanged for murder. I didn't want to hang, Buck! I had to run away!"

"You didn't murder anyone, Vin," Buck said.

"But I heard you! You SAID I killed grandpa," Vin insisted.

"Vin, did you mean to kill him?"

"NO! I just wanted to stop him from hurting Ezra…but I killed him," Vin's voice started to wobble as he continued, "He's dead because of me."

"It's not murder if you kill someone while trying to defend yourself or someone else from being hurt," Buck tried to explain. "No one would want to hang you in that case."

"But it's wrong to kill! My mama told me," Vin told him swiping at his nose with his sleeve, trying hard to fight back the tears that wanted to fall.

"You know I protect the people in town from bad men, don't you?" Buck asked and waited for Vin's nodded agreement before continuing. "I've killed a lot of men in defense of my life and the lives of others, Vin. Does that make me a murderer? Should I hang for protecting those people from men that wanted to hurt them? Kill them? Does that make be a bad man?"

"NO!" shouted in shocked defense of his hero.

"Then neither are you, Vin," Buck stared intently at the child trying to impress the truth on him. "You can't take the blame on yourself when you were doing exactly what I, or Chris, or the other's do for the town everyday. Like we protect the town, and you were protecting your brother. You were just trying to save Ezra from your grandfather. He was trying to kill your brother and you had to stop him. You didn't mean to kill anyone. We all know that. It was an accident. You were just trying to stop a man much bigger than you from doing something horrible in the only way you could. There was no murder involved there, Vin. You are not a murderer, do you understand me?"

"B...but I killed him," Vin's pain-filled eyes stared up at his guardian.

Buck pulled the shaking boy closer, "Yes, and that's gonna hang on your soul like tick for a spell, as well it should. A good man should never take the loss of a life lightly. It's a serious thing. It's the men that DON'T care that are bad and deserve to hang."

Buck pulled the child away and held him so he could look at him squarely, his hands resting firmly on the little shoulders as he tried to impress his words on the child, "Now you listen to me, Vin, and hear me good. YOU…ARE…NOT…BAD! What you are is a good, decent, and quick thinkin' little boy who did the best he could to get himself and his brother out of a very dangerous situation. You did what you had to in order to make sure you and Ezra got away in one piece…and you did exactly the right thing." Buck gave the child a little shake to emphasis is words. "If you hadn't, Ezra would probably be dead right now and chances are so would you.

Now I'm real sorry that you had to go through all that, Vin, and I'm sorry you had to be the one that used the branch that day, but I'm more proud of you than I can say for standing up and taking care of yourself and your brother when you needed to. That's what a good man does, and even though you're only a little boy, you acted like a man that day. I'm proud to call you my boy…my son," Buck spoke straight from his heart.

At those words, Vin lost the battle to control his tears and threw his arms around Buck, grasping tight handholds of the man's shirt as he started sobbing out his pain and fear on the man's broad chest. Buck wrapped his arms around the suffering little one, and held on tight as the emotional storm raged. Buck's acceptance and vindication had managed to punch a hole in the damn Vin had locked his emotions behind. Buck felt helpless as years worth of suppressed emotions finally found an outlet of escape from the child. He was afraid the deep, shuddering sobs racking the small body would surely tear the boy apart, so hard were they.

The man felt the dampness in his own eyes as he sat holding the weeping child and grieved for the boy's loss of innocence. He wanted to take all of this wonderful child's pain away, gladly willing to carry all of it for him if it were only possible. Buck rested his cheek on the top of the sweat-dampened blond curls and rocked Vin gently, murmuring soft sounds of love and reassurance, trying his best to provide some measure of comfort to this child of his heart.

Buck lost track of time as Vin cried, but it felt like hours had passed before the child eventually began to calm. Buck tightened his hold and looked down on the boy now resting quietly in his arms, his tears all cried out. The swollen, red-rimmed eyes, running nose, and a few occasional sniffles were reminders of the emotional purging the child had just done. Vin's stared back up at him trustingly, and though he could still see a trace of shadow in the child's eyes for his part in the death of his grandfather, the man also saw a measure of hard won peace and the beginnings of acceptance. Buck smiled and bent his head to place a tender kiss on Vin's forehead. The two sat quietly together, not feeling the need to break the silence with unnecessary words. Buck knew they would be having more conversations on Justin White's death and Vin's part of it in the future, but for now all that needed to be spoken for the time being had been.

The child's eyes eventually began to grow drowsy and Buck watched them slowly slide shut as the boy succumbed to sleep, exhausted both physically and emotionally by the ordeal. The boy's protector watched him sleeping, content for the moment to simply hold him close and say silent prayers of thanks to the good Lord for watching over Vin and bringing the boy into his life. It was the cool shadow of a cloud sliding over the sun that eventually aroused the man from his thoughts.

"Let's go home, son," Buck whispered softly, not wanting to shatter the tranquility that had settled around him and the boy sleeping in his arms. "Let's go home."

As the morning sun shown down warmly on them, the man -- his arms wrapped securely around the child sleeping across his lap-- slowly rode his horse back to the small town that had become their home and the family that waited for them there. He smiled, knowing there was no where else he wanted to be, and no others he wanted to share his life with.

Vin stirred and settled himself more comfortably against Buck's chest. Buck's heart swelled as he caught the softly uttered words the child whispered before he dropped off to sleep again, "I love you…Pa."

The End
Next: Believe In You