A Renewal of Faith, Hope and Love

Vin Tanner was a man in his element. With the brisk cool air brushing against his face and a light clean snow just beginning to fall all around, he should have felt right at home. Breathing deeply of the crisp winter air, he felt the burning in his nose and the ache in his chest from the quickly cooling temperature. The harder he tried to lose himself in the sheer beauty of nature's raw power, currently laid out before him, the more alone he felt. A man who had practically raised himself, who had learned to live off of the land through trial and error and the kindness of the native people who had taken in a lost and hungry young man. Anytime he had felt hemmed in by life and its constant burdens and responsibilities he had always sought his own balance again in the bosom of the wilderness he held in such reverence. But not this time. For each step of his horse he couldn't stop the sinking feeling that he was moving further and further away from the only true home he had known since his mother had been tragically taken from him in death when he was but a child.

He had spent most of his life alone, making his way through many hardships; the deaths of those he cared for, his own sickness or injury, and whatever else was thrown at him; without giving much thought to asking for help. Lessons learned early still held true through his young life. The only person you could truly count on was yourself. Wasn't it?

How many times had he awakened to pain, either physical or emotional, and known that whether he lived or died mattered only to one person, himself? At least, until recently. Somehow, some of those same hard lessons had begun to take on a different hue. The only person you can truly count on is yourself, unless you've got six hardnosed friends watching your back. With those same six men seeming to give a damn what happens to you.

There had been a lot of new things to get used to over the past few months. After years of surviving on his own, through sheer grit and determination and answering to no one but himself, the idea of being tied down to one town for so long was still daunting. Having to account for his whereabouts and taking on more responsibilities than ever before had left him feeling a bit hemmed in at times. Still, he had to admit that it did have its benefits.

Drifting from town to town Vin had never before felt like he belonged. During his years among the native people, though he had been welcomed by most, he still had been an outsider and never fully a part of their world. Even when among his own kind, he had often been shunned as being different and unwelcome. He had taken it all with little outward animosity, never allowing the inner sting he felt at such treatment to show. Strength was survival and the least sign of weakness could prove deadly. The mask of indifference he wore like a shield was convincing enough to keep most people at a distance, unsure of the dusty stranger. Sometimes he could even fool himself, for a while.

But, among these six men he now considered friends and even a lot of the townsfolk who had come to know him, he had found something he hadn't even realized he was missing. Something he had sought all of his life without even being aware of its strong pull. Acceptance.

This thing called friendship was almost overwhelming. It had taken some major adjustments on his part and was still likely to cause friction from time to time. Where being a friend wasn't difficult and seemed to come naturally to the conscientious young man, accepting friendship in kind was a whole different reality. If he wanted to ride out on his own for a few days he had to be sure it wouldn't put his friends in a bind. He also had to make sure they knew about where he might be heading and for how long. This had become a very touchy subject after the fake marshals and Eli Joe had nearly stretched his neck. While having someone fuss over you when you got so much as a splinter, let alone a measly bullet wound was annoying as hell, it also made him smile inside. And even when having someone chew your backside off for riding out alone without telling anyone or for being gone a day or two longer than expected gave way to flaring tempers, the reasoning behind such actions provided a warmth within that kindled the soul. It was strangely comforting to know someone actually gave a damn. For the first time in a long time, Vin Tanner felt like he mattered.

So why in God's name was he riding out in the cold and snow alone on this day of all days?

"Hmph," he snorted. One day was just like the next to Vin.

Lately the feelings of being hemmed in and the fear of close ties had begun to wear on him especially hard. He couldn't even pinpoint exactly when his misgivings about staying in the town for so long had taken root. Maybe it was the bounty hunter that had come through town a month or so back. Larabee had been all over him lately about staying close to town and not wandering off alone. In his heart Vin knew it was just Chris's way of showing that he cared, but in his head it was only making him angry. That, on top of his growing worry that something might happen to his best friend or one of the others because of the price on his head, only heightened his unease.

"Just keep your nose out of my business and I'll keep mine out of yourn.'"

Vin winced at the remembrance of his own last words to his best friend before they had both ridden out of town in opposite directions. The last part had held a silent message that the tracker knew by the slight twitch at his friend's eye had hit home. A sucker punch would not have been nearly as painful as the quiet emotional jab. How had things gotten to this point?

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Since meeting up with the six unlikely friends, the gunslinger had come to view his memories with a more bittersweet tinge. Still, certain days, special days, always seemed to draw his guilt and hurt to the forefront. When Larabee's demons came calling most knew to give the man a wide berth during these periods, including his friends. Though Buck, being his oldest friend and having weathered too many days and nights of this hell right alongside the man, would stay near in case he was needed Vin was the only one brave enough to actually intervene even when the others weren't so sure it was time. Not willing to see his best friend, the other half of his soul, wallow in self-recrimination for too long the young ex-bounty hunter was willing to challenge the man without fear. Usually his quiet ways and unabashed honesty had a calming effect on the volatile gunslinger. It never ceased to amaze the others, the ease at which Vin seemed to deal with Larabee's moods, but none could deny the long-term results. The dark moods came less frequently and lasted for shorter periods of time.

With the Christmas holidays upon them, Chris' mood had been stormy all week. Vin had stayed close at first as Chris had begun to drown in the depths of his painful memories, keeping a wary eye on the signs in case some type of intervention was needed. But then Buck had made a request of the tracker. After watching the recurring pattern of Larabee's descent into his own personal hell which was a near given at this particular time of year, Buck had done something he hadn't really meant to do, and yet felt obligated to.

Though at first a little put out by Vin's ease at slipping into the role of Chris' best friend, the ladies' man had quickly realized that he hadn't actually been replaced. He still held the role of Chris' oldest friend and that would never change. The relationship the leader and sharpshooter shared was different. Buck was even now willing to admit it was somewhat deeper. The two fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. Separate they were vital, important, but together they seemed complete and a definite force to be reckoned with. It was with a sense of concern for this newly formed bond that he had said anything to Vin at all. Knowing how Chris felt about the holidays and nearly having his own head taken off by a very drunk and angry Larabee before, he had warned, no, asked Vin to give the man some room. Just let the holidays pass.

At first Vin had been reluctant, wanting to help Chris in some way, but Buck had known the gunslinger longer. Maybe the ladies' man was right. Everyone had their demons and dealt with them as best they could. It wasn't as if Chris had never been down before. It was just that there was something different this time. Something about the holiday that sent his friend into a deeper hurt.

As the gunslinger had become increasingly belligerent Vin began distancing himself without fully realizing it. The tracker also got caught up in his own agenda for the holiday, spending more time on his own. Then on the day before Christmas Eve everything had seemingly come to a head. Tempers flared and painful words were thrown about. Then the two had parted ways, leaving the others to stare at their retreating forms in shock.

Vin would be the first to admit that he had been wrong. He hadn't been sleeping well for the last few days. Worried about Chris, and still with thoughts of moving on foremost on his mind, nightmares had surfaced. Past trials, along with prospective future outcomes, had him seeking solace in wandering the town at wee hours of the morning. Many of those mornings he had also noticed his best friend suffering the same fate. Too many times Vin had seen the man sitting outside the boarding house, lost in his own thoughts. Couple the restless nights with days full of a multitude of tasks he had determined to finish before he rode out to continue his own traditions and you had a man at the end of his tolerance.

Not being one to spend a lot of time among other people Vin had spent most holidays on his own, communing with nature where he felt the most at home. To say he celebrated at all was a big stretch. He knew about most of the customs, but was just beginning to really understand the meaning and reasons behind them. Josiah was more than happy to relate the Christmas story to him, along with a few others tales of the season. Mary spoke about family and how much it meant to be with those you cared about during the holiday. She and Billy had left for the Judge's just a few days before. Even the other fellows had felt compelled to share some of their fondest Christmas memories while sitting around the table at the saloon one night, since Chris was riding patrol or avoiding them or both. Everyone seemed to have at least one special Christmas that stuck out in their minds.

Only Vin didn't have any memories of his own to share and had quickly excused himself before his turn came about. He hadn't really needed to check on Peso and the others probably knew that too. But he had never before felt so different and alone as he had at that moment. It had only served to reaffirm his doubts about why he was still in this town.

Not one to dwell on the things he couldn't change he decided to do something about it. With the same tenacity that had driven him to survive the depravity and hardships of life he decided to change his outlook on Christmas. He might not have ever celebrated before, but from what everyone had told him it was a time to be thankful for friends and family, something Vin Tanner had not had for a very long time. Now that he did, he intended to make the most of it.

The little kid in Vin Tanner began to rear its cute little head. Helping Billy Travis make a present for his mother had been just the beginning. Josiah had found out that the wily tracker had been all over town helping out. He had helped the Potter children find a cottonwood tree to decorate. The expert hunter had killed at least two turkeys and five rabbits for some of the outer lying families to eat for their dinners. The thoughtful young man had even built a manger for the Christmas pageant Josiah had organized. All of it done quietly and as anonymously as possible.

It had taken up a lot of his time on those sleepless nights and worrisome days, but Vin had worked hard to prepare gifts for his newfound family. With very little capital funds Vin relied mostly on nature to give him the tools and supplies he needed, along with the building and carpentry skills he had picked up along the way. Getting some left over lumber from one of the families he had given one of the turkeys to, he made a flower box each for Mary, Nettie, and Inez. For Josiah he had made a bookshelf for his room in the back of the church. For Nathan he had gathered herbs and roots he had been taught could help in healing, then put them in a special pouch he had fashioned, also building a small wall cabinet for some of the healer's medical supplies.

JD had complained about never being able to find all of his things at the livery, so Vin had made a box for him to keep in his horse's stall. Buck's bridle was beginning to look a bit worse for wear, so Vin decided to finish up the one he had been making for himself and give it to the ladies' man.

Ezra's gift had taken some thought. The gambler was a bit more particular and Vin had been hard pressed to figure on something fitting for the fastidious cardsharp. Inez herself had unwittingly helped to provide an answer when she let it slip that Ezra kept his more personable items such as his cufflinks and ring on his dresser. She had seemed surprised that he didn't have a special box for such items, and thus the keepsake box was built from the barest hint of a memory Vin had of one he had seen as a child. It really wasn't much and Vin had tried to adorn the outside of it with some carving work that somehow seemed appropriate. It would have to do and as so many people had told him, it was the thought that counted.

He hadn't wanted to leave out the one man he felt closest to, but the problem was that he wasn't sure just how Chris would react to a gift. Not wanting to cause his friend any extra grief at a time that was already painful, he had opted with just fixing up a few things he knew needed doing at the little cabin that Chris had begun working on over the last few months. It wasn't much more than a shack with a half finished corral and a lean-to for a barn. Knowing the gunslinger would probably seek refuge in his own place, the tracker had worked off and on for the last couple of days to finish up the corral, patch a couple of places in the roof, cut up some extra firewood, and then close in a portion of the lean-to in order to provide a little more protection in the worsening winter weather.

Chris had already mentioned heading out to his place just before Christmas and Vin wanted it all done beforehand.

Vin had worked out a deal with one of the local merchants to see that the presents he had made for the others were delivered on Christmas Eve. It was one thing to get caught up in the feelings of Christmas, but the tracker still wasn't comfortable staying around. Maybe it was because Chris wasn't going to be there and all of the others had already mentioned their plans. Nathan was going to see Rain. Josiah was planning his Christmas Eve service at the church. Ezra had worked out a special Christmas card game for some of the local cowboys without a real place to celebrate. Buck was entertaining his own type of holiday cheer. And Casey had invited JD out to eat with her and Nettie.

Nettie had tried to talk Vin into coming out, in fact all of the guys had asked him to join them in their planned festivities. But he couldn't shake the feeling that they were just asking him because they felt sorry for him. Afraid to admit that the prospect of being around other people still wasn't that easy for him, he had thanked them all for the invitations, then kindly declined. He was used to spending the holidays on his own. In the back recesses of his mind the lost child in him, the same one that had been misplaced about the same time he lost his mother, had entertained an idea, a hope, that this year might be different. Maybe this would be a chance for him to really see what all of the Christmas fuss was about. But then the doubts had crept in and the only thing he could think of was getting away for a few days. The need to regain his balance and decide for sure if he would be staying on much longer became more important than staying in town for the holiday.

He had worked diligently to get everything finished, but was beginning to suffer the fatigue of too little rest and too much work. With a stamina that surprised many, even Vin had his limits. And, like most, being tired did very little to enhance his more personable side. That was when the confrontation had taken place.

In the livery preparing the things he would need for a few days in the wilderness, he had been planning to leave the next morning early, Christmas Eve. Knowing Chris was also planning to go off to his cabin made the decision to leave easier. Less to leave behind. Rechecking his tack and making sure his saddlebags were packed he had heard the other man's entrance into the livery. Years of tracking and paying attention to his surroundings told him who it was before he had even entered.

Not in the mood to deal with Chris' rotten mood, he quickly told him. "I'm headin' out for a few days. Probably head up north toward Fisher's Peak."

Chris was startled, not even being aware of Vin's presence until he had spoken. His own thoughts had been turned inward as they had been for the past week. Too much time dwelling on the family he had lost immediately put him at odds with the family he wasn't currently acknowledging he had. It was gut instinct that had the words out of his mouth before realizing the implications.

"I'd rather you stay in town for now."

"Not much for being around a lot of people for the holidays."

Angry at Vin for reasons he couldn't even put word to at the moment, he lashed out. "Damn it, Vin. You knew I was heading out and I thought you'd at least have the sense to help me out and keep an eye on things while I was gone."

That wasn't his real reason, but to put words to his own fears was not going to happen. But it didn't stop him from thinking about it. 'I don't want to come back and find out some damn bounty hunter's killed you because you were too pigheaded to stay where somebody could watch your back.'

Vin was tired and ornery. He didn't see a friend concerned for his health and welfare. He saw a nosy, self-centered gunslinger trying to keep him tied down. Something he feared without reason. "You've got five other fellas to watch things while we're gone. It ain't like the place is buzzin', with a third of the town off to visit relatives."

The whole time they were exchanging words, each had unconsciously been preparing their own horses to leave. Neither had really planned on leaving until morning, but just as their words and wills began to clash, their inner needs to get away grew. Both men were fighting the same demons without even realizing it. The idea of caring for someone else came with risks, big risks that each man was trying to pull away from. Lives of prior hurts and loss were eroding the sense of well-being they usually felt in each other's presence. At a time of the year known for bringing families together, it was the very idea of such things that was pushing these two men apart. Neither realizing the repercussions not only for themselves but for the five men they had also allowed into their lives, those same men who had heard the commotion in the livery and wandered over to investigate.

They weren't aware of their audience, just the fear and anger that had come to a head as the two willful men locked horns like two rams vying for supremacy. They were both right and neither man was about to budge.

Each finished with his horse and led it outside into the bitter cold air, the horses snorting their own disgust with leaving the warmer air of the livery one minute and then stamping their feet in anticipation of a ride through the brisk winter day the next. Tying off their horses, the two bullheaded fools faced each other once again.

"You're supposed to look after things when I'm not here." Chris voice held the undercurrent of a challenge as he tried to emphasize his point in his low cool voice. It was an unspoken understanding among them all that in their leader's absence, Vin was second in command. Lowering his voice another notch he couldn't keep back the next jibe. "I never thought you'd be one to shirk your responsibilities."

It had been a low blow, said in anger and immediately regretted after Chris saw the look of hurt that arose in the deep blue eyes that could be so veiled one moment and then so expressive the next. Windows to the soul, as the dark gunslinger had heard someone remark once. And the glimpse, though brief, he received with those last harsh words, sent a sharp pain through his own heart. Vin was one of the most responsible men he had ever met and took each and every task to heart. To even hint that the tracker would try and avoid his duty was not only ludicrous; it was like a slap in the face.

Instead of abating his anger, his own misspeaking seemed to fuel Larabee's rage. He wanted to apologize, to tell Vin he was a fool and didn't mean it. But those thoughts were quickly being overruled by an overwhelming sense of emotional survival, which was practically screaming at him to push Vin away before something could happen. Before he lost someone who meant everything to him. He couldn't bear the thought of watching his family stripped from him all over again. And, without his consent or full awareness, Vin had become so much more to him than just his best friend. The thought of losing this man who was more like an extension of himself, a brother in every way but blood, was just too much to bear. So he did the cowardly thing. He tried to push him away.

"Hell, just go on. You're going to do whatever you want to anyway and be damned the consequences."

Though his head was telling him that Larabee's words were spoken in anger and should be taken with a grain of salt, his heart was still reeling from the verbal assault that had blindsided him. It had not surprised him that Chris had not wanted him to leave; they had been round and round about this before. But never would he have imagined his best friend would accuse him of not acting responsibly. Nothing was more important to him than the safety and welfare of his six companions and this town. He would gladly give his own life if it insured their safety.

Had either man been thinking clearly and not fighting the emotional tides of fear, anger, and anguish that were sweeping through them like wildfire, they might have realized just how like family they had become. The old adage 'you only hurt the ones you love' was never more fitting than at this moment.

Without rational thought Vin had struck out with the words that would continue to haunt him later.

"I ain't no greenhorn kid, Larabee. I've been taken' care a m'self most of ma life and I guess I'll just keep on doing it." Vin's voice dropped to a low growl with his next words. "Just keep your nose out of my business and I'll keep mine out of yourn.'"

Chris felt his entire body tense up even more with Vin's reply. Without another word, Vin had swung up into his saddle and ridden off like the devil himself was chasing him. It didn't escape Chris' attention that Vin hadn't headed north as he had said, but south. A sudden tightness in his chest that he knew to be fear gripped the blond momentarily. South was not a direction he ever wanted to see Vin headed, especially alone.

But just as quickly he dismissed his own fears, covering them in anger at the tracker's last words. The silent communication that served them on so many occasions had today sent an angrier message. Chris had heard Vin's last words, but he had read something else in his best friend's eyes. 'Leave me alone and I'll leave you alone to your ghosts.' Maybe he was reading more into it than was really there, but he didn't care at the moment. Swinging onto his own faithful steed he headed out at a barely restrained gait in the opposite direction, as five men continued to stare and wonder. 'What just happened here?'

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Chris sat at the lone table in his cabin staring down at the full glass of whiskey. The same glass he had been staring at for over an hour. Upon arriving at his homestead a few hours before he had thrown back four shots before even taking the time to start a fire in the fireplace. But the cold seeping into his every pore reminded him of the time of year. It was funny since he was now sitting almost in front of the blazing fire and yet he still felt chilled. It was a cold that ran too deep to be so easily extinguished and had nothing to do with the worsening winter weather outside.

As he continued to stare at the amber liquid that seemed to dance in the firelight he couldn't hold back the memories. But, unlike the ones that had haunted his every day for over three years, these were a bit more recent. It had been a rough few weeks. With the nearing of the holiday he knew he had become a bear, with everyone giving him a wider berth than usual.

The seven peacekeepers of Four Corners had only been together for about eight months, but had come to understand each other fairly well in that time. The building of trust had been hard won, especially for some, but Chris and Vin had seemed to have an inherent sense of each other from the very start. With an uncanny ability to almost read each other's thoughts, they seemed to communicate without a need for words. Though it was still unnerving at times the others had come to accept it and even rely upon it from time to time.

However, as Christmas had grown closer and closer, Chris' mood had grown more and more sullen. They were all well aware of the reasons. After losing his wife and son, Chris Larabee had closed off his heart from the rest of the world, residing for nearly three years in a personal hell of grief and self-recrimination. Survival of his body had been second nature to the hardened gunslinger. Survival of his soul had been another matter.

Though he himself, along with most others who had known him before the loss of his family, had thought that his very soul had been lost forever. Glimpses of the man he had been before the tragedy, along with the building of a new life and sense of purpose, had seemed to start one day on the dusty street of Four Corners when Chris had made the conscious decision to join in saving the life of a man he didn't even know. That one decision had led to a lot of changes. Chris had united with Vin in saving Nathan's life that day, and in retrospect started out on a whole new one for himself. An innocent man nearly hung and two men joined together to rectify the situation. Chris Larabee's lonely world had taken a decidedly interesting turn with a glance, a nod and two guns.

After that Vin just always seemed to be there. From day one he seemed to have a sixth sense about what was needed and when. He knew when Chris needed silent companionship and offered it willingly and he also seemed to know when the gunslinger needed someone to knock some sense into him and was obliged to do that as well. With a reputation that had him sounding like the devil's spawn, most people steered clear of the black clad gunslinger. A green eyed glare was enough to make many a would-be outlaw tuck tail and run without a shot being fired. But one thing that both impressed and sometimes infuriated the seven's leader was that Vin didn't seem affected in the least by his deadly reputation or his darker moods. Their relationship was comfortable, like a safe haven when the storms of life would rage.

With such an easygoing manner it took a lot to get the tracker riled, but once done it was best to stay out of his way. There were a few times when it had been Chris' job to rein in his friend's temper and he couldn't help but wonder how the younger man did it for him, in addition to the others sometimes, and made it look so damn easy. He usually ended up threatening to shoot Tanner a couple of times before the task was completed.

But the ease of their relationship and that silent communication hadn't been working lately. Not that Chris's choice to withdraw from the festive atmosphere of the world around him had helped. A question still burned in his mind. Why had Vin pushed him so hard today? Of all of the others, his best friend should have understood the pain he was in. Even Buck, though the man had known him the longest, didn't seem to have the understanding that the blue eyed tracker did. Buck knew who he had been, but was still grappling with the man Chris was now, while Vin seemed to just know him and accept him as he was.

It wasn't something easily explained. Though each had led very different lives both had survived great losses. There was a kinship between them that was stronger than blood bonds and more important to each of them than they could give voice to. But, like some of the best things in life, it was sometimes taken for granted.

Another question drew him away from his personal battle with a startling result. Feeling his gut clench with an all too familiar worry he thought back on the last few days. He hadn't seen Vin much. So caught up in his own demons, had he missed something? Was something bothering Vin?

Looking up to stare out the window of the cabin, or shack as Vin liked to refer to it, he remembered his initial reaction to the things that Vin had done around his little sanctuary. The expanded corral, replaced shingles, extra firewood, and closed in lean-to were things he had been meaning to get to recently and knew he had likely mentioned to his friend in passing. There had been no doubt in his mind of who had completed the tasks or why. Probably Vin's idea of a Christmas present for him.

What had surprised him was his initial anger. The thought of someone else out here when he wasn't left him feeling infuriated. But it was just Vin. The same man he had given an open invitation to use his place whenever he liked, even though he wasn't sure the tracker would feel comfortable taking him up on the offer without first checking with him. Figuring his irrational thoughts and emotions were likely tied to the stress of the past weeks, along with the lack of food he'd been unable to stomach and the rest that had eluded him, he turned his mind elsewhere.

Noticing the glowing night sky with new interest, worry invaded his mind once more. It was beginning to snow. Vin would have known that. He would have been prepared. But the dang fool got chilled so easily. Had he taken a heavier coat than that ratty buckskin thing he held on to so fiercely? Had he taken extra blankets? There wasn't enough fat on the scrawny tracker to properly insulate him from the bitter winter cold and with the addition of snow… Chris huffed out a breath at such thoughts.

It wasn't as if Chris could have stopped Vin from leaving, no matter how much he may have wished to. Dealing with his memories was hard enough without worry about the health and safety of his best friend. He should have noticed that the younger man was getting antsy and would likely head out for a few days. Vin had said once that he wasn't much for celebrating the holidays, though Chris figured the choice was due more to a lack of any good memories to fall back on rather than his own reasons of recollections that caused too much sorrow.

It struck him that the emotional turmoil that had been his constant companion since his family's death had begun to change over the past few months. Sitting back in his chair and turning back toward the blazing fire his eyes fell again upon the full glass on the table. His thoughts turned wistful.

The memories still came, along with the nightmares and the guilt, but unlike the constant barrage of horrifying images of their last moments and the way he had found his world in ashes, he actually had begun to recall the good times more often. He remembered almost smiling when he had spoken to Vin about the way Sarah had run him out of his own home when he came back one night smelling like one of Buck's ladies.

Chris and Buck had been in one of the local towns looking for some new stock and the ladies' man had been up to his usual antics. Though the married man had refrained from joining in, somehow during a rather tense moment involving an overzealous former client of the young lady in question, the blond had been doused with some of her rather loud perfume. He had tried taking a bath, but didn't have a change of clothes. Having become accustomed to the smell and not realizing how much he reeked of the fragrance, he had headed home and ended up spending the night in the barn for it.

Vin had listened quietly as Chris had shared this bittersweet memory that was so close to his heart, then smiled that shy lopsided grin of his. It had hurt to tell the tracker about it, but in the end had loosed a flood of similar times of joy and happiness that he had suppressed in his grief. He finally felt free to remember the good times instead of constantly punishing himself with the more horrible images, both real and imagined.

Vin had given him that gift with his quiet and honest companionship. And the unspoken assurance he gave that anything Chris said would be kept within the tracker's own heart and mind unless otherwise instructed. The natural trust that had developed almost instantly between the two world worn men wasn't something that either of them had spoken of, it was just an inherent fact that both men cherished without even realizing how much each relied upon it for their own survival.

Still sitting in the confines of his cabin, Chris felt another chill run through him and looked to notice that the fire had died down. How long had he been sitting at this same table staring at the same glass of whiskey and thinking… Thinking about Vin. He couldn't help but wonder where the younger man had ridden off to. The tracker's original plans had been to head north, but in his ire he had ridden to the south. Hopefully the experienced outdoorsman was tucked in somewhere nice and warm with a mug of the thick mud he called coffee in front of a roaring fire.

As he imagined the tracker trying vainly to defend the strong brew he was known to make against the incessant teasing of the others, Chris felt a slight smile tug at his lips. He also wondered if the younger man had taken an entire bag of sugar with him as well. Though the rugged tracker could and most often did drink his coffee black, there were the occasional times that the gunslinger had caught his friend slipping sugar into the steaming mug. A lot of sugar. It was little times like this that seemed to bring out the hidden inner child in his best friend. The awestruck wide eyed innocence on his face when someone did him a simple kindness or the mischievous twinkle in the blue eyes of the unrepentant prankster when he had gotten a good one over one of the others.

It was also these same times that reminded him just how little of a childhood Vin had even had. Though he still knew only bits and pieces of the ex-bounty hunter's past, which he figured was still a hell of a lot more than most others knew, he had been surprised by its harshness. From bits and pieces of rare conversations, along with a lot of reading between the lines, Chris had discovered that Vin's mother had died when he was five and the years that followed consisted of being shuffled around among strangers and at least one orphanage. With just the things Vin had casually shared, it was clear that a great deal of hardship had been placed upon him at a very young age. Chris couldn't imagine such a fate befalling his own son. There had also been some time spent among the Indians, but he wasn't sure at what age that had occurred.

Truth be told, he wasn't even sure exactly how old the tracker was. If a person went by what Vin had already done in life, his general outlook on things, and the skill with which he performed his duties, one would think him closer in age with Chris and Buck. Josiah had even said once that Vin possessed an old soul and there were times that the world-weary blues eyes showed every bit of it and more. But then there were the other times when the young man didn't look much older than JD. When Vin let down his constant guard just enough to have a little fun. Fishing with Chris or JD, the sheepish smile on his face when one of the local ladies paid him a compliment, or the way he looked when asleep or… unconscious. The last image gave the gunslinger another cold chill and he shuddered reflexively.

What was the problem? Chris shook his head. When had he become such a worrywart? Vin was a grown man, as he so often reminded him and had just that afternoon. He couldn't deny the fact that as leader of the ragtag bunch of lawmen, he felt a sense of responsibility when it came to all of the men's health and welfare, but none as much as Vin. And that was scaring the crap out of him.

Chris felt a sense of relief and alarm run through his body like a bolt of lightning. He had just admitted that he cared for Vin and was afraid. After losing so much already, how could he not be? Chris Larabee was known for his grit and strength of character. What would others think if they knew he was afraid of a scrawny ex-bounty hunter? As a feeling of unspeakable dread swept through him like he had been dunked into a bucket of ice water, he realized the real fear. His greatest fear. Losing Vin.

Staring down at the still full glass of whiskey that sat in front of him on the table, he pushed it away and stood up. 'Had enough thinking and worrying.' The headache that had become his constant companion over the last few days was once again making his head swim. The lack of sleep was quickly catching up to him so he headed for bed hoping maybe, just this once, he would be too tired to dream.

As he lay on his bed staring wearily up into the darkness, his thoughts turned once again to his best friend. A strange sensation made him turn his head. He had almost expected to see the younger man standing by the bed. 'Must be more tired than I thought.' Rolling over and clutching at the pillow beneath his head he felt the hot tears gather in his eyes. Visions of the reddish-brown head that once lay beside him and kept his body and soul warm drifted unbidden through his sleep-clouded mind. 'Sweet Sarah, I miss you so.' Exhaustion finally dragged the gunslinger into the depths, but it would not be a restful journey.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Vin rode along the edge of the creek, looking for a place to get some water for himself and Peso. Being the dead of winter the creek was frozen over almost entirely. Just looking at the ice sent a cold shiver right through him and he pulled his worn buckskin jacket closer around his body, with nearly frozen fingers. He sure wished he had his gloves right now, but the old worn out things had finally succumbed to years of wear and tear. Maybe he could get a new pair in a few weeks, but all of the meager cash he received as the town's peacekeeper had been spent on other things. There was the salve he had bought for the place on Peso's hind leg, the few supplies he needed to finish the gifts he had made for everyone, and a few limited supplies for his current trip. He would have liked to of had one of those nice new blankets that he'd seen in Mrs. Potter's store last week, but that too would have to wait. Besides, he had one, maybe a bit on the thin side, but better than nothing. He would just have to see to it that he had a fairly warm place to sleep and a good fire. The others always teased him about getting cold so easily. Telling him that if he'd put some meat on his bones or would wear something warmer than that old hide coat of his he wouldn't have such a problem.

Of course with the way the temperatures were dropping it wasn't going to matter much anyway. The flurries that had started out slow and peaceful had turned into a driving snowstorm, making visibility difficult. By now a blanket of white would be decorating the streets and houses of Four Corners, bringing with it an even more festive mood.

Somehow that thought seemed to strike a cord of sadness within the reticent tracker. He never stayed around civilization for Christmas, his only real memories of the holiday ones of a lonely forgotten little boy who didn't really belong to anyone. He hadn't felt a need to stay around and participate in the celebrations once he was out on his own, until this year. This year was different. He had friends who had wanted him to join them and in his heart he had wanted to. Had almost said yes to more than one of the generous invitations, but the lost little boy in him was still wary. Why would they want him around? Were they just trying to be polite?

Having lost so much in his life at such a young age he had learned not to grow attached to anything, be it possessions or people. You couldn't miss what you didn't really have. Except now he did have it. He had friends that actually wanted him around because they liked him, not just because they wanted something from him. He had Nettie, who doted on him like he was one of her own kin. And he had Chris, so much like the brother he had wished and prayed for during his early days in the lonely orphanage, back before he stopped wishing for anything at all.

Of course, Chris was pretty pissed at him at the moment. But now that Vin had had time to cool down…

He chuckled at that thought. Boy, had he ever cooled down.

Now that he had cooled down he knew that Chris had been reacting with the specters of his past still hanging around his neck. Once they both got back to town he would buy his best friend a drink in apology for his rash behavior. Both men had obviously been a bit on edge.

Flakes of frozen ice fell on his face, but he barely felt it. The exposed skin had become numb some time back. Even with his three layers of clothes and the jacket he could feel the cold biting its way through. He would need to find shelter soon.

Finally finding a spot where the ice was thin, Vin broke through to get some fresh water. He'd need it to make some nice hot coffee. Thinking about the sugar he had also brought, a vision of Chris teasing him about his sweet tooth came to mind and he smiled, his teeth chattering slightly. Once he got back to town, he would be sure to make things right with his best friend, his brother.

There were some caves nearby that he had been thinking about. They would suffice him for a day or two, until the snow let up and his balance was returned. Or until he just couldn't take worrying over one sorry assed gunslinger any longer and rode back to check up on him.

Shaking his head at just the thought, Vin reined Peso up toward the higher ground where the caves lay. The snow was now thick enough on the ground that travel was becoming a bit more hazardous. Knowing the area like the back of his hand would do him no good if his horse lost its footing on the slick rocky ground. Nighttime was now upon him, but the ice filled sky gave off a dazzling glow of ethereal light.

Nearing the edge of a steep incline, Vin decided it best to lead Peso through the dangerous path ahead. Grabbing the saddle horn to dismount he was ill prepared when the horse's hooves began to slide. In fear Peso shifted, only making things worse. Already off balance Vin tried to drop to the ground to save himself from injury and give the horse free movement to right itself. But it was too little too late as Peso squealed and went down hard, throwing the tracker back over the saddle.

It happened so fast that it took a few seconds for Vin to even realize that he was going over the edge. Everything slowed as if happening in slow motion. Fear ripped through him. With all of the snow covering the ground he had no idea where the true edge lay, only that he was going to miss it. Curling his body up he tried to cushion the blow of his inevitable sudden stop. Even as he felt his body impact the hard unforgiving ground below, his thoughts turned to his friends and one in particular.

'Shoulda just stayed in town.'

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Chris jerked awake, barely catching himself before falling from the bed. With his heart racing he tried to figure out what had awakened him. Had it been another of the dreams? He couldn't remember any. In fact the last thing he remembered thinking about at all was…

Vin?!

His stomach tightened. Was something wrong?

The darkness around him held a strange glow as the shadowy light from the windows filtered in. It was still snowing and the temperature was cold enough for trails of ice to form on the corners of the windows. With his heart still racing in his chest he listened for anything else that might have disturbed his dreamless sleep. The quiet was almost deafening. There was nothing to hear except his own harsh breathing.

Sleep tugged at him once again. Shaking his head at his own foolishness he pulled the tattered quilt back up over his trembling body. Vin was fine and he was losing sleep over nothing. Settling himself back into the warmth of the bed he closed his eyes. As slumber reached to claim him again, his thoughts were once more on a certain long-haired tracker. This time his sleep would be anything but dreamless.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

He was cold. Cold and alone. Even with his eyes still shut and his cloudy mind still unfocused he sensed no presence nearby. Why did that realization feel so wrong? He was used to being alone and taking care of himself. That's just the way it had been for most of his life. Yet something clawed at the back of his consciousness. Memories of warmth and a sense of home pervaded his senses. So where was that sense of comfort and home now? Why did he once again feel like a lost soul adrift in the sea of life?

Struggling to regain a grasp on what had happened, two pain clouded blue eyes opened into slits to encounter nothing.

The darkness that surrounded him made him shiver all over. Even that slight movement sent shards of pain screaming through his body with such a force that consciousness itself became hard to hold on to. The feel of cold earth below him, along with dank smells that permeated his nose, reminded him where he was. He was lying flat on his back in a dark and musty cave. Trying to think back on how he had gotten here he could only recall bits and pieces.

Snow. It was almost like a blizzard when he had turned Peso toward the back hills where he knew of a cave or two that would provide adequate shelter. Then something had happened. He shouldn't have been traipsing around in the dark; he knew better. Peso began sliding and fell. There was a cliff or incline. Trying to dismount, flying through the air, hitting the ground with a painful jolt, rolling down a hill, his head slamming into something, a brilliant glowing light, and then total darkness. It was still a bit blurry.

He remembered awakening at the bottom of the ravine, snow falling onto his frozen face. His ribs were on fire, his shoulder stiff and painful, and his head felt as if a herd of buffalo had driven a path through it. He didn't know if he was bleeding or not and wasn't even sure he wanted to know. With his survival instincts in high gear and a lot of stubborn determination he had managed to slowly climb to his feet. It was almost as if someone was actually willing him to get up and move.

It had taken him a while to climb back up to where he had fallen from and each step had been painful and unsteady. At least twice, that he could remember, he had reawakened after passing out to find himself half buried in the newly fallen snow. Once at the top he stumbled on in what he hoped was the right direction. Clutching blindly to the inner voice that kept him moving forward even when his body screamed in protest.

'Just keep going. That's it. Don't stop.'

How he found the cave at all he would never know. It seemed to appear out of nowhere and he drug himself inside before falling once again unconscious in the dirt.

Now as he lay on the cold earth, right where he had fallen, the warmth seeped from his body. Already past the point of trembling he thought on what had sent him out into the cold snowy night in the first place. More regret joined in with his already tumultuous emotions. If he hadn't of snapped at Chris. If he had just accepted Nettie's invitation. If…

Vin knew that even though his injuries were painful, they alone were not life threatening, but staying awake was becoming too difficult a task. The cold would get him faster than anything and there was little he could do. Moving would have been painful, but he would have managed, but where would he go? There was no way he could walk out. It was too far and way too cold, the trail itself treacherous enough in good weather. His supplies were with Peso who was likely halfway home by now.

Home? When had that dusty little town become home? No; it wasn't the town that was home to him, but the people in it who had opened up their hearts to him and given him a place to rest, a place to feel safe, and a place to feel… Loved? The word itself was almost as foreign to him as the sentiment itself.

None of it would matter now. He wished he could apologize to Chris. 'Hope he's not drowning in that bottle. Course if anyone's got a right, guess it's him.' There were a lot of things left undone and unsaid. What would the others think when he didn't come back? Would they come looking for him? Probably. Would they think a bounty hunter had gotten him? How would this effect Chris?

The grim hand of reality descended upon him even as his hold on consciousness began to fail. He had survived a lot in his life, but not this time. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in his friends to look for him and likely find him; he was just all too aware that time was not on his side this time. He might be as tough and stubborn as they came, but even he couldn't keep from freezing to death. At least it seemed like a more peaceful way to go than swinging from a rope.

The pain of his injuries had numbed with the growing cold, though his head was still pounding. Glancing around at his meager surroundings he realized that his sight hadn't gotten any better since he had awakened, only adding to his growing worries. Not that it really mattered if he could see or not. Maybe he would be better off out in the weather where he could allow himself to fall asleep in the fluffy snow and never awaken. Of course that would involve getting up, not a prospect he figured he could manage at the moment.

The same voice echoed in his head. 'Don't give up. You have to keep fighting.'

The voice seemed strange to him, though he had talked to himself many times in his head, this voice sounded a little different. Scared and unsure. Death was a reality that Vin was all too familiar with. He had faced it a few times personally. Feared by all in one way or another, Vin had made his peace with it years before and knew this day would come, probably sooner rather than later. The times before he hadn't worried about what he was leaving behind, a few measly possessions and a life of hardship. But as he faced his own mortality now, his muddled mind thought of the one man he would miss the most.

'Always said we'd ride to hell together. Guess I gotta blaze the trail for us. Didn't mean for it to happen like this though. You gave me more 'n I could ever say. Made me feel like my sorry hide was worth more 'n five hundred dollars. Sorry, Cowboy.'

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Time no longer meant anything. Whether it had been a night, another day or more, he couldn't say. Pulling his body along in the murky grayness that was now his world Vin wondered exactly where he thought he was going. Why had he left the shelter of the cave? Something seemed to beckon to him and was driving him forward without real thought. It was almost as if a rope had been attached to the inner part of his being and was tugging him along, step after step. His eyes saw nothing now but shadows, his body numb.

Stumbling around in the outer and inner darkness he kept moving. Any minute he expected to go tumbling off of the mountainside. All it would take was one misstep and he certainly couldn't see where he was going. Still he moved forward mechanically. He couldn't stop, though he didn't know why.

Something flashed in his mind. Green eyes staring at him with unbridled respect and warmth. His body seemed suddenly infused with a new sense of strength and he plodded on. The voice within was calling to him in earnest.

'Just a little further. Just keep moving.'

Something bright was up ahead. At least it looked brighter than the darkness surrounding him. A light. A cabin, perhaps? Where was he anyway? With a goal ahead he moved toward it, reaching out with trembling fingers. He would keep going until he could go no more. He was a Tanner and that's something he just couldn't give up on without one hell of a fight.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Green eyes flew open and legs hit the floor with determination. Wiping away the vestiges of sleep and traces of weakness from his eyes, Chris Larabee came awake with startling clarity. Something was wrong and he had to find Vin. There was no way to explain the overwhelming sense of dread and fear that was pulsating through every part of him at the moment. His dreams had been far more vivid than he could ever remember them being before.

Though there was something different about them. Sarah and Adam had both been there and they had been celebrating Christmas like they always had. He remembered stringing cranberries and popcorn to decorate the tree. The homemade ornaments on the tree that Sarah had made with their son Adam. His childish ornaments that were more precious than all the gold in California. He could still smell the hot cider that was a big family tradition for his wife's family, the same cider he would put a dash or two of whiskey in after their son had gone to bed. The fire had been roaring and carols filled his head. It was all so real and picturesque.

Then he had seen him. What was he doing there? It wasn't right. And yet, it was. It felt complete and appropriate. Sitting at the small kitchen table just like he belonged there had been Vin Tanner. His buckskin coat hung on a peg by the door. His deep red shirt a nice touch to the festive feel in the air. With a warm cup of cider in his hands, a soft twinkle in his sky blue eyes, and a genuine smile on his face, the tracker had looked more at ease than Chris had ever seen him. He had looked like he was… home.

Then, as fast as it had all appeared, it was gone. Chris had found himself standing in the center of an empty house, charred from smoke and fire. Everything had still been intact except it was covered in soot and ash. But there had been an overwhelming emptiness that pervaded. With a sickening clarity, Chris had realized that it was due to the people who were no longer there. All three of them were gone. Standing in the middle of the place he had once called home, that had become cold with loss of life and vitality, he swore he had heard voices. Adam's and Sarah's. Then Vin's.

Chris had awakened with the wind whispered words still ringing in his head. Others might call him crazy, but they would only dare it once. Insanity was a feeling he had become accustomed to years ago, after his world had plunged head first into its depths.

Dressing quickly and strapping on his gun he grabbed his hat and coat as he headed out the door into the dead of night. He figured he had to be nuts to be listening to dreams. So he'd call it a gut feeling and let it go at that. And deep in his gut he was certain of one thing. Vin was in trouble and needed him.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The first thing he noticed was the sounds around him. There was a fire crackling nearby. Someone moved about, the swish of skirts and a faint flowery smell of toilet water wafted through the air. There was a woman nearby. It must be a room or small cabin just from the way the sounds didn't carry far. The clank of dishes, then the voice of a child mumbling softly.

Vin wasn't sure if he was even fully conscious until the angelic voice carried across the small living space, singing a slightly familiar tune.

"The stars in the sky looked down where 'e lay, the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay." Vin knew it was a Christmas carol he had heard at some time or other. The voice held a slight lilt to it, reminding him of an Irish fellow he had met once when he was bounty hunting. The song itself reminded him of another place and time when he was much, much younger. Another woman's voice drifted through his mind.

"Mama?" Vin hadn't even realized the word was said out loud until the sweet singing stopped and the angelic voice sounded right next to him.

"Well, young lad. Glad ye decided to join us."

Prying his eyes open seemed like trying to lift bags of heavy sand, but a feeling of fear swept through him when his vision produced only blurry images of light and dark shadows. The woman seemed to read his very thoughts.

"Tis alright, lad." A hand on his arm caused him to jump. "You're safe 'ere."

Vin couldn't explain it, but he instantly believed her. Warmth filled his insides, born of more than just the fire nearby and the blankets tucked around him. Something about the soft feminine voice seemed almost familiar and set him immediately at ease.

"We found you wandering alone out in the cold. You're not well, so just take it easy and we'll make sure you get back where ye belong."

We? Vin wondered who else was there. He had heard a child's voice and surely the woman's husband must have found him and brought him here.

"Where…am…I?" Just the effort of speaking those few words seemed to sap his remaining strength.

The hand patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't ye worry none 'bout that right now. Yer right where ye's supposed ta be." The same gentle hand reached out and lightly brushed the hair back off of his face. "Just rest now, me boy. Just rest. I have things need tendin'."

Drifting back into the welcome arms of darkness, he didn't feel quite so alone this time. With him Vin carried that sweet angelic voice and the faint reminiscence of his mother singing to him when he was a small boy.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

"I don't care whose bed he's warming tonight, JD, just find him and both of you get to the livery. I'm leaving in an hour even if I'm by myself."

"Now hold on. We's going with you. Just gots ta give us time to get ready." Nathan knew there was no point in arguing the point with his leader.

Even though the man had been in a foul mood for days he would never have tried challenging the man in black about this. None of the seven even claimed to understand the natural tie between the dark gunslinger and the taciturn tracker, but neither would they deny it. If Chris believed that Vin was in trouble, then they would believe it too. And if Chris said they were riding out into the snow to hunt him down, then ride they would.

Gut instinct had kept them all alive more than once and hopefully would continue to do so. Chris walked off toward his room at the boarding house to gather a few more things for the trip as JD ran off to interrupt Buck's night of passion.

Stepping up to Nathan's side, Josiah placed a comforting hand on the healer's shoulder. They had known each other for a while before the seven had come together but in the last few months had become close friends. Staring out at the night Josiah seemed to read the worry on his friend's face.

"I know it's cold out, and Lord knows our brother doesn't stand the cold well, but if anyone can survive out in weather like this, it'll be him."

"Not if he's hurt." Nathan's angry tone let his own fears slide out unbidden. The group's healer was weighed down with the terrible burden of knowledge. Though the others might suspect the futility of such a search, only Nathan knew just how unlikely it would be to find Vin still alive should he have been injured out in this winter storm. Everyone looked to him to heal all wounds, cure all sickness, and generally play God. "If Chris is right and that boy's hurt…"

"We'll find him. And we'll bring him home where he belongs." The confidence in his voice masked the uncertainty in his heart. 'I just pray to God we find him alive, for all our sakes.'

Nathan hung his head. He wished he could have such faith. The thought of finding Vin dead was too much to bear. The young tracker had saved his life and he felt indebted to him. But more than that, the younger man was his friend. Too many people he cared about had been ripped from him and he just wasn't ready to go through that again. And Chris. He didn't even dare imagine what the loss would do to him. Giving up his own prayers to God, the healer went to gather supplies he both hoped he wouldn't need and yet prayed that he would.

Josiah watched Nathan walk away, the slump of the healer's broad shoulders speaking volumes. This would be a difficult burden for them all to bear. Lifting his eyes to the icy sky still filled with the light flakes he gave another heartfelt plea.

"Lord, I know that this is the season of miracles. It would be the best present any of us lowly sheep could receive to have just one more. I know we're not exactly deserving of your mercy but I think that boy has the kind of heart you want to see in a lot more of us. Vin's taught me a lot about faith in your fellow man and standing up for what you believe in. Taught us all. You've told us to learn by example, well, we need a few more lessons if you don't mind. Sure would be nice to have our young brother back for Christmas. Amen."

With his own piece spoken, Josiah headed for the livery to ready the horses.

True to his word, Chris Larabee rode out of town an hour later heading south, with five worried men right behind him.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Vin was in and out of it for what seemed like days. The soft angelic voice was the only constant in his hazy world. He had faint recollections of drinking water, some type of broth being spoon fed to him, and his wounds being tended, but everything still seemed unclear, almost as if he had been dreaming. His head, though no longer as painful, felt heavy and his mind was still muddled. He could remember the fight with Chris, leaving town, the fall, and then the guiding light, but it all seemed so long ago.

"Wonder if they had a good Christmas."

"Your family?" the sweet voice asked.

Had he actually spoken out loud? He didn't think he had, but then again he wasn't exactly thinking clearly.

"Just some folks I know back ho… well, back where I come from." Vin didn't want to say 'home'. Wasn't sure he had the right. And saying it out loud would just make it harder on him when he had to move on.

"I am sure your friends and family back home would much rather have ye there for the holidays."

Vin felt as if he could almost hear the smile in her voice. And he liked the way her slight accent slipped in from time to time.

"Are ye thirsty, what a silly question? Of course you are. You're sportin' a bit of a fever. Here, let me help you." Feeling his head being lifted he tried to sit up himself and reach for the cup he knew had to be near, but only managed to knock it out of her hands, spilling the contents on himself and the floor. He bit back a curse at his own infirmity.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I can't rightly see too good right now." Vin turned his head away in embarrassment, even as he slumped back against the pillow.

"That's alright, lad. With that knock on the head you took it's no wonder things are a bit fuzzy." The faceless voice seemed to see right into his soul and it scared him. "No need to be frightened. You're just 'ere to rest up and relax. Leave the rest to me."

With gentle care the woman lifted Vin's head and helped him drink some water from the cup. The simple water tasted like nectar from the gods to the fevered man. His body felt too warm and his throat too dry. From just the bare fuzzy outline he could see, he figured the woman to be somewhat petite and with dark or auburn hair. Not that her looks mattered, for the way she tended his wounds and administered to his needs spoke volumes about her true beauty.

"I wanna thank ya fer takin' such good care o' me."

"Nonsense. I was only doing what any decent person should."

"Just the same, ma'am, there aren't a whole lot of decent folk around that would take the time, especially…"

"With someone such as yourself?" She seemed a bit perturbed by the thought she had practically ripped from his mind. "Well that's just ridiculous and narrow minded of them."

Vin got a glimpse of the fire that also resided within this woman with just the change in the tone of her voice. He couldn't help but admire the conviction he felt radiate from her. Knowing she obviously had a mind of her own he tried to imagine what her husband might be like. No matter what, the tracker came to the same conclusion. Her husband was damn fortunate.

"You have a good heart, lad. I can tell these things. Call it a mother's intuition. I'm always tellin' me husband that I have a sense about people." Her voice became wistful. "Still, it's good to get to know a person before ye start ta judge."

"Sure wish there's more like you, ma'am." Vin's curiosity was getting the better of him. "Iffen ya don't mind, ma'am…"

"Call me… Call me Lizbeth."

"Vin." He knew he was blushing, but couldn't help it. He had purposefully left off the last name and had almost used Larabee instead, but thought it was too presumptuous of him. She didn't need his last name just yet. "I's just wondering when your husband was due back." He assumed the man of the house was gone since he didn't recall ever hearing anyone besides the woman and the child. "I need to get a wire to my friends, so's they won't worry none."

"'e's out on business, but 'e'll be home when 'e's done. Me husband still has a lot of things to finish up first. Besides, the closest wire's a bit far."

Vin felt a yawn escape despite the fact he had only been awake for a few minutes. He really needed to find out what was going on, but he just… couldn't… quite…

The woman stared down at the sleeping young man before her and felt a pang of alarm. Something wasn't right. This wasn't how it was meant to be. She was only supposed to watch over Vin Tanner until her husband arrived to take over. The young ex-bounty hunter wasn't supposed to be this aware, or look so much better. It would put a halt to all of her hopes for the future.

Guilt assailed her as she thought of the beautiful blue eyes unfocused and yet still full of a brilliance that seemed to reach deep into the man's soul. Where was her husband? Surely he would have gotten her message by now. Time was running out. Her musings were disturbed as a small hand reached up to tug at her skirt.

"Mommy, why are you sad?" The little dark haired boy looked up at his mother with childish concern. He could sense that something was wrong.

"It's alright, my sweet laddie." She reached down to place her hand on her son's head. "Mommy's just a little worried right now."

"Are you worried about the long haired man?"

"Yes, laddie."

"I thought you said Daddy was coming and he'd take care of everything. I want to see him bad." Her son's eyes stared up at her with hope and wonder.

"Me too. 'e'll be here," she said aloud, even as her heart cried out. 'I just hope 'e comes soon.'

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The snow had stopped before the sun was up the next morning. The white covered ground, aglow with the morning sunlight, was almost blinding to the group of six men who rode along somberly. The beauty of the world around them was lost with the worrisome reality that one of their number was lost. Everything seemed tinged with a deep sadness. The snow, the season, and the plans they had made. None of it held the same warmth while the seven were not complete.

JD rode just behind Chris, who was leading the group at as quick a pace as the snowy ground would allow, his youthful exuberance curbed by the levity of their current mission. Vin was one of the most self-reliant and capable men he knew. Even though the tracker was only a few years older than him, life experiences seemed to expand the age difference. It was hard for the young easterner to imagine the type of life Vin had been forced to lead to bring the tracker to the vast knowledge and experience he possessed. Each passing hour with no sign of his missing friend was weighing heavy on him. His mother's loss had been painful enough to overcome. The thought of losing another person he felt as close to as family caused his stomach to sour. Yet his lack of experience with some of the grim realities of the west still led him to hope that Vin was just holed up in one of the caves he was so fond of. Maybe all they would find would be a very disgruntled tracker, claiming that he didn't need six mother hens watching his every move. He wouldn't mind at all if his friend was mad at him as long as he was alive. Christmas and its festivities had been forgotten. Nothing else really seemed to matter at the moment.

Nathan was riding next, constantly checking his supplies in a nervous gesture. The day had just begun and was starting out to be beautiful but he felt little joy in it. The only thing that kept him going was the possibility that Chris could be wrong. He did not relish the prospect of having to bury a friend while watching the destruction of the unorthodox family he had found in Four Corners. To lose the tracker would more than likely trigger a domino effect. The closeness between their leader and the younger man was tangible. Chris would not deal with the loss well at all, becoming as cold and self-destructive as he had been when he had lost his wife and son. Vin was his family now. And just like a brother to him, whether he realized it or not. Nathan saw it easily and figured the others did too. With the loss of Vin, and subsequently Chris, the others would begin to drift away and that would be that. If only they would find Vin sitting in a nice warm cave looking every bit at home as the rest of them did sitting in their own rooms. If only…

Just to the left of the healer's back, Ezra sat astride his horse in uncharacteristic silence. Like the others, he too had been affected by the rift between the seven's leader and their second in command. He had been unable to shake the uneasy feeling of dread that had settled within him since the display outside of the livery the previous day. The prospect of losing the glue that held the unusual group of men together was unfathomable. Strangely enough, over the last few months he hadn't stopped to question why he had stayed this long in one place. The possible answers were more than he was ready to consider. A man who had spent most of his life on the road, traveling from town to town, forming no attachments, was still surprised by the ease at which he had allowed himself to become a part of this group of men. Maybe ease was stretching it a bit. Truthfully he had fought it tooth and nail, working diligently to keep his distance emotionally and not allow his well-honed face of indifference to fall. Maude had taught him well how to look out for number one, but with each passing month he spent as a part of the seven peacekeepers he was learning new lessons, like how to allow himself to depend on others and more importantly learning how to be depended upon. These men had all come to mean a great deal to him despite his desire to remain aloof. The wily tracker had seen through his facade, but never pushed him on it. For that he was grateful. It had also drawn him closer to the tracker, something that was proving to be quite disconcerting at the moment. Though the southerner had felt fear on many occasions it had normally been derived from self-preservation. This caring for the welfare of others was proving to be indubitably much more painful.

Riding a few paces behind the others Buck, who would normally be at Chris' side, was holding back this time. Ever since the previous afternoon when the town had been witness to the gunslinger's and the tracker's parting of ways, the kindhearted ladies' man had been wracked with guilt. He had constantly been going over his earlier decision. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to ask Vin to stay away from Chris. If anyone could have gotten through to the dark clad gunslinger it would have been his fearless new best friend. He now felt, in part, responsible for the two's falling out. It hadn't escaped his attention that the younger man had seemed to heed his request and kept more of a distance, but more painfully he had also watched his oldest friend's mood spiral downward as well.

What if he hadn't said anything? Would Vin have stayed in town or at least maybe gone where he had said he was headed? Or maybe Vin and Chris would have ridden out together to enjoy a little time away from it all. It still amazed him at how unobtrusive the tracker could be. How many times had the younger man been only a few feet away and completely forgotten until he spoke, nearly scaring the piss right out of him. Most saw Vin Tanner as just quiet, and so had Buck at first, the quality being a bit unnerving to the naturally boisterous man. But it hadn't taken him long to realize that Vin viewed words differently and used them like a weapon, just as accurate, deadly, and decisive as his mare's leg. If he had something to say or felt it would help the situation he said it, direct and to the point. Whether it was his thoughts on an upcoming confrontation, just a quick gibe to ease everyone's tension, or a forceful word of caution for an unfortunate outlaw, the reticent tracker made careful use of his voice. Then again there was the fact that even his silence often spoke volumes. Buck shook his head at the thought of how often he found Chris and Vin sitting either out on the boardwalk or in the saloon, neither saying a word, but communicating all the same and relishing in the silence. Was that all lost? Now he had the added burden of Vin's possible injury or worse to add to his guilty conscience. It was just too much to consider what might happen to his old friend should the outcome of this holiday prove tragic. They would all lose.

Bringing up the rear, Josiah, the self appointed shepherd of the unruly group of lawmen, kept his eyes alert to both the terrain and the men who rode before him. He had little doubt that if there were any sign of their missing brother to be found one of the emotionally charged men ahead of him would find it. His worry for his flock was extended beyond just the welfare of Vin. If their dear brother, God forbid, had already succumbed to the elements Josiah had little doubt that he was now without pain and in the bosom of his long lost loved ones. If this proved to be true, it was those left behind he had the greatest concern for. Chris was a given. The loss of the man he had come to be so close to would likely prove overwhelming. But he wouldn't be the only one affected. Vin meant a great deal to each of his fellow peacekeepers. In his quiet and unassuming way, the young tracker had wormed his way into the hearts and souls of them all, not to mention some of the townsfolk. The saddest part was the fact that the preacher was pretty certain that Vin was not fully aware of just how big a part of their lives he had become. How would they survive such a loss? How would he be able to minister to the other devastated souls while feeling himself so utterly weighed down? It was with these doubts and fears still swirling in his head that he looked up to notice the slumped shoulders of the front rider and quickly guided his horse to move up ahead.

Chris rode along in the lead, not even sure exactly why he had decided to head in this particular direction. The others followed along, knowing that if anyone could anticipate where the tracker might have gone, it would be his best friend. Though at the moment, Chris was feeling anything but the confident and fearless gunslinger that most had come to know. He was scared. More scared than he had been since… No! He wasn't going to even allow such thoughts to enter his mind. Vin was not dead, too. Yet doubt about even that crept in. How could he even begin to explain the emptiness he had felt since awakening from his overly realistic dreams? If he allowed himself to admit it, it felt like Vin was gone, really gone. The unnatural connection that he had felt from the first day the two had met; the same bond that had grown stronger as the months had passed; had vanished, leaving in its wake a gaping hole that could never be filled again. Even when they were not together, miles apart even, there was always that sense of the other man. A feeling of rightness that seemed to follow him wherever he went. Without it Chris' own sense of balance was dangerously askew. He had to find Vin and reclaim his balance and his soul. He hadn't wanted anything this bad since… Why did his thoughts keep going back to them? His wife and son were lost to him forever. It had been a painful lesson, but he was moving on. Wasn't he? Hadn't he made a life for himself again? He had friends and a broth… Pain ripped through his chest at the stark realization of what he had to lose. It wasn't just his best friend out in the cold. Vin was so much more to him. How had that happened? Why had he let it? 'Yeah, like I had a choice. The sneaky little pain in the neck just snuck right in as quiet and easy as you please.' The thought almost made him smile through the pain.

With his eyes concentrating on the world around him and his mind preoccupied with the emotional turmoil within, Chris hadn't even realized how much he had begun to slump in the saddle. Sheer stubborn will was keeping him going but his body was beginning to give in to the fatigue, without his full knowledge or consent. A hand on his shoulder and the deep rumbling voice beside him brought him back up straight. He hadn't even realized that Josiah had ridden up and that was a sure sign that he was in trouble.

"Brother, maybe we should stop and rest for a few minutes. JD's looking a bit done in and the horses could use a rest." Josiah knew better than to mention that his leader was beginning to resemble death warmed over. Instead the big man appealed to the gunslinger's unacknowledged protective nature by mentioning the group's youngest and the horses. With a barely suppressed sigh of relief, the preacher watched as Chris glanced back at his men, especially JD, and slowed his pace. Silently the gunslinger stopped and dismounted, with the others mirroring his actions.

Josiah was quick to put a hand on the man in black's arm when he swayed as soon as his feet hit the ground. The slippery snow only made things worse, forcing the bigger man to grab Chris around the waist to impede his descent. Now supporting their combined weight he too would have lost his footing and the two men would have quickly found themselves on the ground had it not been for the four pairs of arms suddenly offering their assistance and support. It marveled the big preacher to no end how seven totally different men could so easily band together, sustaining each other both physically and emotionally, each one quick to lend a hand to the other and filling in the gaps to form one formidable force. If only this trial would prove as easily surmountable. Just as easily as Chris had slid on the snow, they were all losing ground and heart with each moment that passed with no sign of Vin.

Chris was quick to regain his footing and shrugged off the hands that seemed to be clawing at him. He suddenly had a good idea just how Vin felt when he was crowded. Not wanting anyone near him at the moment, or possibly ever again for that matter, the dark visage stalked off toward the rocks nearby to find a place of solitude. Though he would never admit it, he was exhausted and actually grateful to Josiah for suggesting that they stop. Even though he desperately wanted to find Vin he wasn't so blinded by that need that he didn't realize his own growing weakness. What good would he do his friend if he collapsed before he could even get to him?

He was seriously beginning to regret the last couple of weeks of indulgence. He had drank too much and slept too little. That had, in part, led to his anger at Vin and now to the fact that the younger man was missing. Would his own selfish pity party now lead to the loss of yet another person he cared for?

Sitting down heavily underneath a large overhang where there was less snow, and making sure he sat on his coat, Chris leaned back to rest his eyes for a minute. His mind began to conjure up the voices that had awakened him the previous evening, their pleas still ringing through him even as the sky blue eyes of his best friend appeared, only adding to the torment.

'Hang on, cowboy. I'm coming.' The mental thought was more for his own reassurance than anything else.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

He was hot one minute and then cold the next. It was the same with the pain. At first he would feel fine, almost as if nothing had happened, then waves of agony would shoot through every inch of his body, forcing moans from his lips that he couldn't contain. Her hand was there, constantly wiping his brow, gently patting his arm, or stroking his face. The voice encouraging him to hang on and fight, not to give up. If only he could see her face. His vision was like everything else, nearly nothing then clearing just enough for him to make out outlines and shapes.

From the moments when his vision cleared some, he had been able to make out a few things. The cabin was small, but cozy, reminding him of Larabee's own little place. Just thinking of his friend caused a new wave of pain. His stomach rolled and he feared he would be sick.

"Tis alright, me boy. Just take it easy." Lizbeth turned to her young son, who played in the corner of the cabin. "Laddie, bring me that basin over there."

The little dark haired boy did as asked, quickly fetching the requested item and hurrying to his mother's side. With eyes wide with wonder he stared at the pale man on the bed. "Is he going to be alright, Momma?"

"I don't know, laddie. All we can do is stay by his side and help him if he needs it."

"Til Daddy comes?"

"Yes, son, till your Daddy comes."

"I miss him."

"I know you do. So do I." Reaching down to caress the boy's face she tried to reassure him. "'e'll be here before ye know it and then it won't even seem like 'e's been gone. Now be a good lad and go play." The boy did as asked, scurrying off to his corner.

Vin could hear them talking, but they sounded so far away. It was like he had fallen into a hole and they were speaking at the top of it above him. "Sick." His stomach rebelled violently and he felt himself being rolled to the side, a basin placed to catch what little he managed to expel. Trying once again to steady his labored breathing he felt the cup at his lips and drank greedily, trying to wash the sour taste from his mouth. He felt the gentle hand on his face, stroking his cheek and brushing the sweat-dampened hair from his forehead.

Opening his leadened blue eyes he could just make out the shape of the petite woman before him. Fear gripped him as he began to wonder once again exactly where he was and how long he had been there. It wasn't that he feared the woman, but she kept talking about waiting for her husband to arrive. Surely they weren't planning to turn him over for the bounty, but then again five hundred dollars was a lot of money. It didn't really make sense with all of the time and care the woman had spent on him. Why would she go to that much trouble? He had felt only compassion from this woman whose face he had yet to see. Her voice, softened by the slight Irish lilt, kept him grounded. Of one thing he was certain; he owed her his very life.

The young mother was worried about the man in her care. Just from his symptoms she knew his time was dwindling. The light in his clear blue eyes was diminishing and it nearly broke her heart to watch. All of her hard work might be for naught. This was not what she wanted, but the decision was not hers to make. Maybe if she talked to him. Made him remember what he had to lose, he would fight harder.

"Vin?" She waited for the pain clouded eyes to turn in her direction. It was obvious that his vision had yet to clear, but at the moment that was the least of their worries. "Tell me about your family."

"Ain't really got no family. Not living anyways." Vin's voice sounded rough and soft. "I've been on my own for quite a while now."

"Surely you have some family? People who miss you." She prodded. "Not all family is by blood. You know, when I was a wee lass I had a friend. Her name was Colleen and we were inseparable. We couldn't have been closer if we had been blood kin. She was like a sister to me."

Seeing that her words were having the desired effect, Lizbeth sat and waited, ready to hear whatever her young charge had to say.

Vin's mind thought on the past year and how much his life had changed. He had spent many years on his own, but that wasn't true anymore. She was right, not all family was born of the same blood. Some families were born of strong friendships and some by the sharing of their souls.

"Reckon you're right. Might be a few people I'd miss. They might even miss me a little, 'specially Chris."

Lizbeth swallowed hard. Vin was weakening before her eyes. She had to hurry. "Tell me about this Chris."

"He's one of the most ornery cusses you'd ever likely meet and one of the most honorable men I've ever had the pleasure of knowin'. Me and him, well, we just seem to understand each other, ya know? It's kinda hard to explain. Never had anything like it before. He and the others are the closest I've come to family since I's just a little feller."

Vin didn't know where he got the strength to continue rambling on like he did. Just moments ago he had felt nearly too tired to breathe and now here he was rattling on like JD.

"Then there's the others. Buck, he fancies himself a ladies' man. I think it's just that big heart of his that he wears on his sleeve that attracts 'em. He thinks it's that animal magnetism stuff. Reckon' if that was true he'd be attracting a lot more 'n the ladies." A tired smile graced his lips at the thought of the big man with ice blue eyes and a heart big enough to hold you up just with its sincerity.

Lizbeth held back a sigh as she watched the young man smile. He was very handsome, but there was just this inner beauty that seemed to shine from his very soul. Even without knowing much about Vin, she could tell he was special. He must be to have such friends.

"JD, now by looking you wouldn't think 'em old enough to carry a gun. Course I ain't but a couple a years older 'n him, but ya can't tell. The fellers would never let me live it down. The kid's got a lot still to learn, but he's turning into a right fine man. Just hope he don't have to see too much along the way." The brows above the blue eyes furrowed as a shadow of the past drifted across the tracker's face.

"I'd say we all have things in the past that were tough, but they make us who we are." She was slightly saddened by the lost look that had entered the emotive blue eyes. It might be best to get him back on track. "Who else makes up this family of yours?"

Vin's smile returned as he began remembering the rest of his 'family'. "Josiah, he used to be a preacher. Sorta still is, even if he tries to deny it. Big as a bear, but gentle as a kitten, long as you don't get 'em riled. He's got this voice that can tell a tale like nobody I ever met. Course sometimes once he gits started he's a bit hard to stop."

"Nathan, he's the doc or healer, or whatever he wants to call himself. All I know is I never seen somebody so interested in taken care a sick folks. Not that I've met that many. He used to be a slave, but he still finds it in his heart to help people, no matter what color their skin is. Quite a man. He's saved my life a few times and I can't begin to tell him how grateful I am."

Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Vin began to wonder if he would ever get the chance. Well, if nothing else, his friends would have gotten the things he made for them for Christmas. They weren't much, but he just wanted to thank all of the people who had made a lost young man feel like he had a home.

The thought of his gifts reminded him of Ezra. Though he hadn't wanted to be around when the gifts were delivered, he couldn't help but wonder about Ezra's reaction to the little keepsake box he had made. Would he have liked it?

"Ezra's a conman, a gambler, and real smart. Tries to act like he don't care about things, but he does. He's not as coldhearted as he wants people to believe. Reckon he's just so used to being shunned and rejected, he figures it's just safer if he does it first. Kinda know how he feels. He's a good man though. A good friend. He'd lay down his life for any of us and then be surprised he done it."

He really did miss his friends more than he ever had before. What he wouldn't give now to be sitting in on Ezra's card game, off with Nathan to see Rain and the Seminole village, or sitting with JD at Nettie's table, full of all his favorite foods. The older woman certainly liked to cook for him, treating the world-weary ex-bounty hunter like one of her own. Vin couldn't be sure, but if he didn't know better he'd think she was trying to fatten him up.

"There's also Mary and Inez and Nettie. They're all real nice to me. It's a bit worrisome sometimes. I just ain't used to folks fussin' over me none." The slight blush was now visible underneath the pale face and flushed cheeks, adding a touch of almost healthy color. But it didn't last. "I sure hope they all had a nice Christmas."

Vin wasn't sure how to say this but felt compelled to try. He had left town with so much left unsaid. "Iffen I don't make it. I mean, well, do ya'll think ya could get a message to my friends for me. Don't want 'em frettin' about me. And, and…" The momentary surge of strength he had felt was now draining from him at an alarming rate. "Chris… tell… 'em… tell 'em… not..."

The sentence never was finished. Even before he could shut his eyes the darkness was calling to him. He was so, so cold. What happened to the nice warm fire and the blankets? He was lightheaded and it felt like he was floating through the air. Was this what it felt like to die?

'Wait. I can't go just yet.' Vin struggled to remember what was so important. What had he just been thinking about? 'Chris?!'

A vision of his best friend's angry green eyes stared at him through the darkness. The glare penetrated his skull like a knife sending a radiating pain that tore straight through to his heart. From anger the eyes turned sad, desolate. 'No. Chris? Please. Ya gotta know it's not yer fault. I shouldn't have said what I did. I'm sorry. Chris?!'

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

He was out in the snow. There was nothing but the fluffy white surrounding him for as far as the eye could see. No mountains or trees could be seen anywhere, just flat snow covered earth. Turning around in a complete circle he felt his heart hammering in his chest. He felt so lost and alone.

Then, as if out of nowhere, a light appeared in the distance and he suddenly realized that he must have been walking forward the entire time. As he grew closer to the light he could just make out the outline of a cozy little cabin nestled among the snow. A dark cloud of smoke billowed from the chimney, a stark contrast to the white world around it. It looked so inviting, and he felt as if he were being pulled toward it, like a beacon of light in the darkness.

Trudging forward he looked down to see that his footfalls were overlapping another pair of footprints. Slightly smaller boot prints that gave him an incredible sense of joy. He just knew without a doubt that those very prints belonged to his missing best friend.

'Vin!' The name seemed to echo in his head as his feet picked up the pace.

Before he knew it he was running all out toward the tiny little cabin. Reaching out his hand to grab the door handle he felt a familiar warmth flow through him. Then just as quickly it was gone. And so was the cabin. Once again he found himself surrounded by only the white snow. A cry of pure anguish tore from his throat. "Noooo!"

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Buck grabbed his friend's shoulders and shook him as the grief-stricken sound filled the air. It chilled the bighearted gunslinger's blood. He had prayed to never hear that sound ever again as his mind flashed back to a fateful night, the remembrance of the smell of smoke almost overpowering.

Glazed green eyes shot open and stared right at him without really seeing him. The utter pain within those orbs cut into his soul. 'My fault again,' the big man thought. Buck still carried a lingering guilt for keeping Chris away when his family had been killed, now he'd done it again.

The others had quickly gathered around, called to arms by the air shattering cry. Each man now stood looking on as Buck tried to administer to their leader.

It took a few minutes for the fogginess in his head to clear. As his eyes began to focus Chris found himself staring into the worried face of his oldest friend. The cold dread that had become his constant companion had frozen over with the end of the dream and the emptiness that he now felt.

"Chris?" Buck's voice was soft with concern. "Hey, pard. That musta been some dream." It was hard to keep the quiver out of his voice as he imagined just what that dream might have been about.

As if not hearing Buck, or just plain ignoring his concern as well as the worried eyes of the others, Chris pushed himself up off of the ground, thankful that he stood without too much of a noticeable sway. Without a word he strode to his horse and mounted, knowing the others would follow. He wasn't about to explain himself. He wasn't even sure he could. How was he supposed to tell them that his dreams were leading him to Vin? Hell, he barely believed it himself, so how could he expect them to. And right now he was more certain than ever that time was running out. If they didn't find Vin, and soon, it would be too late because Vin was dying.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The six men continued on with their ardent search, for what seemed like hours, without stopping. Chris had become like a man driven. If his quest had seemed urgent before, it was now bordering on extreme. He spoke to no one, not even answering the continued request to where they were going to look. Up, he had to go up and that's all he knew for sure. Vin would have sought some cave in the hills, of this the gunslinger was certain, but why here and why this path; he could only follow his heart. The one he hadn't been sure he still possessed, until now. The sure sign of its existence being the constant pain he had felt in his chest since Vin rode out of town.

Just in the area they were in, Chris knew of at least four places that the tracker had shown him within an hour's ride. Which way should they go? Which way would Vin have gone? There were too many choices and not enough men to check them all in time. Not to mention that Nathan couldn't be everywhere at once and there was little doubt in Chris' mind that the healer's skill would be needed. 'God, I hope.' The others might still be entertaining the slim possibility that Vin was fine and this was all just a goose chase. He wished he could believe that too but every fiber of his being said different.

Stopping his mount, unsure for the first time since starting out on the hunt which way they should go, Chris stood up in the stirrups to look around as if hoping, almost expecting, some sort of sign to just appear. Anything that would help lead him to his friend.

'Maybe I should take a nap?' The errant thought was dismissed almost as quickly as it was considered. He still wasn't comfortable with the idea that his dreams had been leading, pushing, pulling him so far. But how else could he explain the decisions he had made on which way to go before. Had it all just been a delusion born of too much whiskey and too little sleep? He hadn't felt hung-over when he had awakened from the dreams. His mind had been clearer than it had for a long time. Frighteningly clear.

Still seeing Vin sitting at the table in the small cozy home he had shared with his wife and son, he felt a shudder run down his spine. Sitting hard back onto his saddle he felt as if the weight he now bore was too much. He ached so bad to hold his son once more, to play with him, and tell him how much he loved him. What he wouldn't give to be able to take a walk by the river hand in hand with Sarah as he watched the sunlight play through her auburn hair sparkling like jewels. And her sweet voice…

Chris tried to swallow past the lump that had formed in his throat with the vision of the bittersweet memories. Sarah's voice had been a lot like her mother's, both soft and sweet yet firm when need be. He had even remembered Adam picking up some of the inflection from her voice and thought it quite endearing. He would have had his mother's beautiful dark hair.

"Chris!" The urgency of Buck's voice quickly drug Chris from his musings and he looked up, knowing something had caught the big man's attention.

The others had held back some even as their leader had stopped, unsure what to say or do. Chris was like a man driven and wasn't responding to any of their queries as to where they were headed or why. Each of them, more worried than they wanted to admit, had held their tongues and ridden quietly. Then when Chris had stopped they stopped and waited, knowing that to ask or try and tell him anything would be fruitless in his current state.

Buck had been staring down at his hands as he contemplated his own role in the terrible events that were currently unfolding. The guilt he felt only compounding with each passing minute. The ladies man had already come to terms with what he would have to do should Vin not survive. First he would have to admit to Chris his role in keeping Vin away from him for the last couple of weeks and take any punishment the gunslinger saw fit. He didn't think his oldest friend would kill him, but he did hope he would at least hit him, beat the shit out of him, yell at him, anything but do nothing. If Chris remained silent or just walked away it would break Buck's heart for sure. To see his friend succumb to the void that had been trying to suck his soul down since the death of his family would be too much. And secondly he would have to leave. Where would he go now? He had found so much in Four Corners: friends, family, JD. The youngster was like his little brother. But he wouldn't be able to stay. Not if…

A sound to his right caught his attention, almost as if carried on the wind as a light breeze brushed past his cheek. Glancing over to the line of trees that led into the base of some of the hill country he blinked twice, thinking that it might be a mirage. Had he wanted to see something so bad that his now tired and overwrought mind was creating images? Then a flash of something glinted in the sunlight and the quiet whinny added fuel to his tiny flame of hopefulness.

"Chris?!" He called to the one man who would most need to see and confirm the find.

All heads turned to the ladies man, save one. The blond head scoured the countryside, knowing by the tone of Buck's voice that he had seen something. The tone carried not only a ray of hope and wonder, but a note of fear as well.

Finally turning his head to the far right, the object of Buck's excitement was evident. Spurring his horse toward the object, Chris felt his own mixture of hope and fear at the sight of Vin's horse near the edge of the trees. For him it was the sign he had sought and gave him great relief, but the fact that the horse was still saddled with no one nearby caused a near sense of panic.

The other men had quickly followed their leader, seeing what had caught his and Buck's attention. Each felt their own emotions teeter from one extreme to the next. Finding Vin's horse was one thing, but what they wanted, what they needed was to find Vin himself.

Chris reined Pony in close to Peso, hearing the horses call to each other in recognition. Vin's horse, though often described with quite a number of offensive titles, was nothing if not fiercely loyal. Horse and rider seemed to enjoy a love/hate relationship, both sharing similar traits. Each one was stubborn to a fault but when the chips were down they could both be counted upon without a doubt.

Just from first glance Peso looked like he had seen some better days. There were scratches along his left hind-quarter and he was favoring his front left leg, but it didn't look broken. JD was quick to dismount and try to calm the temperamental horse. The kid was good with horses and was one of the few people who could help in handling Peso. The horse looked more than tired or ornery. A wariness to the eyes and heavier than normal breathing spoke of some distress. The horse looked spooked, as if something had scared it half to death.

Chris had also dismounted, but left the horse's care to their youngest while he began to look around the area. This had to be another sign and there had to be some way to figure out where Peso had come from. Staring at the ground he noticed the horses tracks still visible in the snow, leading back up into the mountain and felt a twinge of recollection. He knew this area. Vin had shown him some small caves up near the summit, hidden within a beautiful flat open area that had a view that spoke to the existence of God. Vin had said something about it being the perfect place for a little cabin and Chris had remarked, "If you're part mountain goat."

Green eyes glanced up through the trees to the steep incline and his gut clenched. Yes, he did remember this area. The trail up was winding and treacherous, with parts of it near the edge of more than a few dangerous drops. And at night...? 'I'm coming, Vin. Just hang on, cowboy.' The silent plea went unanswered, even within Chris' heart.

The sunlight filtered in among the trees, bouncing off the ice and snow like a light show. Gazing through to the thicker underbrush, Chris glanced further up the mountain. Closing his eyes against the nearly blinding glare and shaking his head he looked back to see if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Up near the very area that Vin had shown him he could almost see what appeared to be a wisp of smoke dancing in the air. A fire? Maybe Vin was alright.

Wouldn't that be something? The six of them traipsing up the hillside to find the tracker sitting by the fire, drinking his god-awful coffee and smirking at them like they were fools. Chris couldn't even manage a tight smile at the conjured image. His heart and soul knew it wasn't true. Deep within he was beginning to come to the harsh realization that only a miracle could help his friend now and he had stopped believing in those years ago when his miracles had been stolen from him. Stripped from their earthly home, leaving him behind to grieve and suffer.

The sadness within him was already returning to the deep bitterness it had been before he had met Vin and begun to live again, care again. His insides growing cold to match the icy winter winds. The spark of hope that had begun to blossom within him was quickly being extinguished with the ever growing dread of the loss he was almost certain was coming. He would complete his task with a hardened heart. He would bring Vin home one way or another and beyond that nothing mattered.

"Chris?"

Josiah's voice startled the gunslinger out of his morbid thoughts and he turned back toward the men awaiting his instructions. His lean body was taut with tension and the coldness of the air surrounding him was an inferno compared to the iciness now running through his veins. Even with finding Peso and the trail he could not allow himself to hope. The disappointment would be far too great to bear. It was best to bury his feelings beneath the stoic face he had come to wear for self preservation. It was time to let go of the future that he had thought he might have, forget the bonds he had begun to form, and protect himself from further pain. The cold hardened gunslinger of legend was now back.

Josiah felt his heart leap into his throat at the coldness of the blond's eyes when he had turned around, green eyes void of feeling, either good or bad. Feeling a chill run down his spine that had nothing to do with the frigid weather he sent more silent prayers heavenward. This was not good. Not good at all. They hadn't even found Vin, one way or the other, and Chris was giving up.

Youthful inexperience did not heed the caution such despairing looks should have warned JD of and he looked toward the others with wonder. Anxious to share his find he was heedless of the change in atmosphere. "It looks like he was tied here." Thinking he was not getting through to the others he tried to further emphasize his point. "Peso. It was almost like someone left him here. You don't think…"

A hand on his shoulder and the look on Buck's face drove the words right from his mouth. What had just happened? Finally glancing toward their leader he realized that Chris had already mounted and was riding off in the direction of the tracks. "But, Buck…"

"JD, kid, not now." Buck, too, had seen the look on Chris' face. The ache in the ladies man's heart was becoming almost unbearable. 'My fault.'

JD stared at them in confusion. Didn't they understand? Someone must have put Vin's horse there. What if it was Vin? Maybe he was close by. What other explanation was there? Then something else struck the young man's mind, sending a chill straight through him. No tracks. Even he had seen the horse's tracks, but no other. If someone else had been there he should have been able to see the footprints.

This search was just growing more discouraging and more unusual. Chris seemed to know where they were going, though he had not said how. Now Peso, tied off in the middle of nowhere and supposedly by no one. It just didn't make sense.

Everyone else had mounted and followed after Chris so JD had little choice but to follow. And once again the trek continued with a greater sense of sadness despite the tracks and despite finding Peso. All of the hope that these signs had afforded had summarily been wiped away with one despondent look and one pair of emotionless green eyes.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Vin was lost in a void of darkness. The cold and pain, like echoes in the back of his mind, were the only reminders of what had happened to him. It was like he was floating with nothing solid to hold on to. Even without a clear picture of what was happening he knew with a strange certainty that he was dying. He had never been afraid of dying itself. Man's mortality was a fact of life he had been forced to face early in life. Yet he had never wanted to die alone. For a man who spent most of his life relying on himself alone to survive, it always struck him as odd that in this he had always wanted to have someone there when his time came to face the final showdown.

He had heard many stories of spirits caught between the land of the living and the world beyond. Most of which he knew to be campfire tales to entertain and frighten. Now his mind wondered. Was that where he was now? Not dead, but not quite alive?

A voice came to him out of the darkness. Its familiarity provided a warmth and comfort in his time of indecision.

'Vin?! You have to hold on. Keep fighting, me boy.'

He knew the voice, the same one that he had heard before, encouraging him to get up when he only wanted to lay down, keeping his feet moving when he felt as if he could take no more steps. It was the same one that spoke to him soothingly as he lay injured in the tiny cabin. Before it had seemed familiar, but now it had a name.

'Lizbeth?'

'I'm here and I won't leave you alone. But ye have to fight.'

'I'm so tired. It's too hard to breathe. I just want to rest.' Vin sounded like a whining child to himself and knew he must to her as well. But he was exhausted. More so than he had ever felt before. So many times he had pushed himself beyond his limits, kept going even when his body screamed to stop. This time felt so much worse. The simple act of opening his eyes, lifting his hand, or even breathing felt impossible, as if his body were weighed down by a ton of rocks. Vin could no longer tell if his eyes were even open or not. Was he blind now? Somehow it didn't matter.

'I know you're tired. It would be so easy to just give up and let go. So easy, me boy.' Lizbeth could feel the young man slipping away and fought back her own worries. If it was meant to be it would be, but she would fight it with every bit of essence she possessed. She would do it for the beautiful soul she was safeguarding and she would do it to renew the soul of the man she loved.

Vin felt a soft hand on his forehead and another on his arm. The soft whisper of words seemed to sound right next to his ear and he could swear he felt her warm breath against his cool skin.

'Your family, Vin, they still need you. Not just to guard their backs, but to challenge them and make them smile. To keep tempers in line and provide support when life throws evil and hardship at them. They need your humor, your calmness, and your strength.'

She used her last hope of getting through to Vin.

'Chris needs you, Vin.'

Vin's mind was filled with visions of his friends and one green-eyed gunslinger in particular. Seven men banding together to defend the town or sitting around the poker table in the back corner of the saloon, the same table branded as theirs that stayed almost always vacant unless one or more of the town's peacekeepers were present. And he saw himself sitting out on the boardwalk in companionable silence with the man he had come to trust like no one he ever had before. He would fight anything or anyone who tried to do any of those men harm. Could he now fight the specter of death itself to keep them from a harm he hadn't even realized existed until now?

Lizbeth was right; he didn't want to leave them just yet. Not with so much unfinished. There was still so much he had to teach JD about tracking and surviving. He wanted to be able to watch Ezra do his magic on some unsuspecting victim, even if that victim was himself. He wanted another chance to tease Buck about his animal magnetism and his self proclaimed prowess with the gentler sex. He wanted to hear Josiah tell more of his stories from the bible about a baby born to save all of mankind and the angels that watched over him. If only he could tell Nathan how much he appreciated all that the man had done to take care of a scruffy no account ex-bounty hunter when he didn't have the good sense to get in out of the rain.

But more than anything he wanted to tell a certain gunslinger that he was sorry. Their last words to each other had been hurtful and spoken in anger. Chris had been in pain and lashed out at the closest target. Vin should have been more understanding and was ashamed of how he had acted and what he had said. Watching a man's back didn't just mean guarding it from the bullet of some two-bit outlaw. It also meant looking after it when the past came calling with all of its pain and regret.

Vin had let his best friend down. Getting too caught up in the holiday and ignoring the needs of a friend in trouble was unforgivable, but just a chance to tell the gunslinger he was sorry meant everything. And the tracker wasn't so out of touch that he didn't realize that Chris would also likely regret the angry exchange and end up blaming himself when he learned of Vin's fate. There were few people who wore guilt quite like Chris Larabee. The last thing the young man wanted was to add to the already heavy burden the man in black carried.

'Only you can help him. Only you can ease his burdens, lighten his load, and help him bear not only the past, but the future as well. He began to live again after he met you. Don't give up. He's coming for you. They are all coming for you.'

How she had known what he was thinking he wasn't sure. Or had he been talking out loud? Was he still in the cabin? He no longer felt cold or hot. There was no pain or stiffness. Actually there were few sensations at all. And he could no longer discern what was real and what was just in his mind.

Then he felt it. A hand in his hand. But it wasn't Lizbeth. It was too small.

'Don't worry, mister. Daddy will be here soon. Mommy went to make sure.' It was the voice of the child that had been with them in the cabin. Lizbeth's son. "She told me to stay right here and hold on to your hand and that's what I'm going to do. She said it's real important that you hang on till Daddy comes." There was a moment of silence and then the child's voice returned with a slight tremble. 'You're not going to leave yet, are you? You've got to wait.'

Vin felt himself growing weaker and weaker, but couldn't ignore the child's plea. There was no way he could leave this child alone. Despite his infirmity and lack of vision he would never turn his back on someone in need, especially a child. This boy had helped his mother to take care of the injured tracker. Whatever it took he would hold on and fight until the boy's mother came back.

'I won't leave you, son. You're a strong young man to help your mother like you have. And I'm almighty grateful.' Even though he couldn't see him, Vin figured the boy to be somewhere around six or seven years old. 'You just hang on ta me and I'll hang on ta you, alright?'

'Yes, sir.'

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The sun had rose high in the sky and it was now midday. Even though the temperature had warmed, it was still cold and the icy winds only added to the riders' misery. The snow had begun to slowly melt where directly hit by the sun's rays, making it slushy and slippery in some places yet more navigable in others. Winding their way up the narrow mountainside, they rode single file, careful of the steep ravine that dropped to their immediate left. Even as they moved along each man kept his eyes trained both on the dangerous trail and on the area surrounding it, knowing that had the tracker been in this area the previous night, what fate might have befallen him. A dangerous trail in good weather, it could be deadly in the snow.

Turning a particularly dangerous bend Chris felt as if someone had just walked over his grave. Reining in Pony and holding up his hand to signal they would stop, he felt another pang of remorse at even that small action. Vin always did that, raised his hand when he found something and wanted to stop. Damnit. Why couldn't he just let it go and get the job done? That's all it was. A job. Get it done and get out. If only he could just convince himself of that he might be alright.

Ezra stopped his horse, muttering under his breath about ill-tempered gunslingers and the wilderness. Feeling his mount tense beneath him he looked to his left, seeing the dangerous incline and the unfriendly looking terrain in the ravine below. Something caught his eye and he glanced up toward the front, expecting to find Vin and his spyglass at the ready. Cursing himself for his stupidity he glanced back down the slope to further inspect for himself and to hide the burning sensation he had felt in his eyes. He wasn't sure, but it almost looked like…

No one was more surprised than Nathan to see the gambler practically leap from his mount and begin slipping and sliding down the snowy mountainside.

"Ezra, what the hell…?" With the healer's outburst all eyes turned to watch the spectacle with awe and trepidation. They didn't really need another man lost or injured.

Chris didn't wait to watch as he too dismounted and proceeded to follow the southerner.

Josiah's voice echoed through the surrounding country. "What in heaven's name do you two think you're doing?" No one else had seen what could have sparked such rash actions, not until Ezra stopped and stood staring at a dark object lying in the snow. "Please God, no." The big man whispered under his breath.

Nathan was already off of his horse and ready to follow until a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Why don't we wait, brother, and see what they've found first. It'll take the four of us to pull them back up here." Josiah's voice was gentle but a bit shaky. He too feared what they might have discovered.

Down below Chris skidded to a halt, sliding some in the snow as he saw what had garnered Ezra's attention. Lying pristinely in the snow, slightly rumpled, but otherwise intact was Vin's hat.

For a moment there was complete stillness as both men stared in wonder at the familiar object. Then spurred to motion by their fear they began to frantically search the area. Ezra went to his knees and began digging through the snow under where the hat lay, not touching it, but just checking around it. The snow was deeper here in the higher altitudes and had little chance of melting any time soon. His gloved hands still felt the bitter cold as the icy wetness began to seep through, his knees growing just as numb. But uncharacteristically he gave little thought to the damage being inflicted upon his wardrobe or his own discomfort. His mind had but one purpose at the moment. To find Vin or at least some clue to where he might be.

Chris began his own search. The snow looked slightly disturbed in certain areas, but he knew that if Vin had been through earlier in the evening hours that the more recent snowfall would have hidden most of the evidence of it. If the tracker had fallen he may still be buried somewhere beneath nature's beauty. Vin would probably prefer that to hanging. It was a strange thought, but one that offered no solace to the gunslinger as his gaze swept the area looking for a lump in the snow, a piece of cloth, or anything to indicate that his friend had been here, or still was.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Ezra had stopped digging and sat panting from the exertion, his expression slightly strained. He'd never actually seen the southerner in such a state but took no time to reason it all out. Chris wasn't shallow enough to think that Vin's predicament was a burden to him alone. The quiet spoken Texan was a part of each of them. A single and vital unit to the whole that was the seven. Once again forcing himself to banish such thoughts and concentrate solely on the task at hand, the gunslinger turned away from the sight of the distressed gambler.

The snow covered ground gave little warning to the somewhat precarious terrain that lay below, leaving one dark clad gunslinger unprepared when, for the second time that day, he lost his footing. This time, with no one close enough to stop the descent, he unceremoniously found himself propelled backwards. The whole incident would have only served to enrage his already ragged emotions more had his head not struck the unmovable object behind him.

As the side of his head slammed into the trunk of the tree, Chris saw another wisp of smoke dancing overhead just before everything went black.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

A soft warm breeze blew across his face and he could hear the sound of water trickling nearby. The sweet combination of earth, water, and wildflowers enticed him to open his eyes. As his vision slowly cleared he could see her face as she bent low over his prone form.

Her tender hand reached down in invitation as her voice rang out like a melody long since lost, but never forgotten. 'Walk with me, me love?'

'Sarah?'

Chris stared up at the enchanting apparition above him. He wasn't sure exactly why, but a feeling deep within him spoke of the strangeness of it all. But at the moment it didn't matter. His sweet Sarah was standing before him like an angel. Her beautiful auburn hair glowed with the sunlight that filtered through it. And her skin was like silk as he reached up to brush the back of his hand across her cheek. She was radiant, almost aglow with a soft light that filled him with incredible warmth.

Without knowing how, Chris next found himself strolling along the riverbank with his wife, hand in hand. The memories washed over him like a warm ray of sunshine and he knew he had been here before. It was their special place. With her feet bare, her hair flowing freely, and her face shining with pure joy, he found his own heart was nearly bursting. This felt so right, so good, and yet in the back of his mind he knew it wasn't real, couldn't be. Another dream? 'Please don't let me ever awaken.' His mind pled fervently.

Even as his heart was drinking it all in like a man too long without life giving water, his head was reminding him that something was wrong. As if reading his thoughts, Sarah spoke.

'Don't dwell on the past, me love. Your future is near.'

'I miss you.' Chris wasn't even sure where that thought had come from. Reality was hard to grasp in this dreamlike state. The fact that Sarah was here was comforting, but how could it feel so right and yet so wrong at the same time.

'But I am always with you.' Chris felt his breath catch as her hand reached up to lie on his chest. 'Right in 'ere. Adam and I are always with you.'

Her smile disarmed him, lighting a fire of new strength within. And he remembered how she had made him feel. Together it had felt as if they could face anything. This beautiful creature had such depth to her being. So full of kindness and a deep respect for the world around her, she was also strong and fiercely protective of those she cared for. Those traits reminded him of someone else. Someone with a tender heart and a strong sense of justice. Ever ready to put his life on the line for the safety and protection of others and with a will of iron. Sarah had always had a way of fortifying his waning strength when life battered against him, now that job had fallen on someone else.

'He needs you, me love. 'e's waiting for you.'

Chris' head snapped up to find he was once again lying prone on the ground, his beloved wife Sarah still hovering above him. The look of worry on her face concerned him and he realized his son was not there.

'Where's Adam?'

Once again a smile graced her face, but it held a bit less warmth as if something weighed heavy upon her heart. 'Adam is gran'. 'e's with a friend.'

Looking deep into her dark eyes he saw a reflection. Startled by the vision of Vin's face within his wife's eyes Chris felt a sudden jarring pain rake through his skull.

'Ahhh!' The pain was throbbing and his vision was clouding. He couldn't see her anymore and an unerring sense of loss filled every fiber of his being.

'Hurry, me love. Follow your heart.' Her voice drifted away on the wind as he tried to open his eyes against the newly awakened pain, the bright light piercing through his head like a knife.

"Oh, shit."

"Chris?! I think he's coming around." The new voice was definitely not Sarah's. Blinking against the daylight he could make out the shape of a familiar face hovering above him.

"Buck?" Chris' voice came out as a coarse whisper.

"Bout time you woke up, pard." The worry was evident in the ladies' man's voice. "I was beginning to think you were gonna make us wait all day."

While Nathan was muttering about hardheaded gunslingers and not having the good sense God gave a mule, Chris was trying to rearrange the disarrayed thoughts running rampant in his slightly scrambled mind. Slowly the pieces of why he was lying outside began to come together. They had been out, in the snow, searching… But for what?

"Vin?!"

Sitting up abruptly the world spun and his stomach rebelled. Two strong pairs of hands helped him to keep from getting what little he had eaten earlier from decorating his clothing on its return journey. Leaning back against the broad chest behind him he knew instinctively that it was Buck. It certainly wasn't the first time his old friend had been there to offer such assistance, but most of the other times had been due to a different kind of altercation, involving painful memories and a few two many whiskey bottles.

"Thanks, Buck." The gunslinger's voice was hoarse, but still full of strength.

"Anytime, pard." Buck's own voice was still filled with concern.

"Why don'tcha just lay back down here for a few minutes." That was Nathan's rich voice in full healer mode. "That's a right nasty bump ya gots on yo head there. Just lucky it barely broke the skin."

"How long?" Feeling some of his strength returning and the kaleidoscope of colors finally shifting into something closer to focus, Chris started to get up. But Buck would not be deterred as the ladies' man slipped his arm around the gunslinger's chest to hold him down.

"Come on, Chris, just listen to Nathan now and lay back down."

Not ready to fight his friend just yet and still wanting some answers the injured man stayed put. "How long I been out?"

"Only for about half an hour." Nathan had known this was going to be a problem. Chris had a good size lump on the side of his head and the skin around the area was already turning an interesting shade of red. But he'd seen bullets not stop the man and knew sure as he knew his own name that this minor inconvenience wouldn't either. Still, head wounds could be tricky and it was his duty to see to the best interest of his patient, whether or not that patient agreed.

"Gotta go. Can't waste anymore time." Even though the memories of his latest dream were vague and consisted mostly of a mixture of emotions, the one thing he knew was that Vin needed him and was waiting on him. Sweet words of comfort echoed within his heart. 'Adam and I are always with you.' With a steely determination reborn of the guiding strength of two strong personalities who had given him a reason and purpose in life, Chris threw off Buck's restraining arm and was on his feet and turned around before either of the bigger men could stop him. Though it took all of his strength to even stay upright, the green glare he turned toward them spoke volumes.

His anger at the lost time was quickly tempered by the worried looks coming from not only the two men he now faced, but the three who stood just behind them. Not ready to deal with anyone else's emotional baggage at the moment he chose to try and lighten the mood. "I was freezin' ma ass off down there."

"You've been hanging around Vin too long…" Buck's mouth was moving a bit faster than his brain and as it caught up he felt his face heat in embarrassment and self anger at his slip. "I'm sorry, Chris." Glancing up to catch the look in Chris' eyes he wasn't prepared for what he saw. He'd expected anger or hurt, but not confusion.

In fact Chris wasn't even looking at him. The gunfighter's gaze was off in the distance, back up the mountainside. No one moved as the air filled with tension. The others had also expected a different reaction from their leader.

Chris had heard Buck's words, but they had barely registered as something else caught his attention further up the mountainside. Another wisp of smoke seemingly danced in the air, as if beckoning to him.

'Follow your heart.'

Feeling an incredible warmth flow through his soul along with a renewed sense of confidence, Chris turned to face his men, his friends… his new family. The expectation on their faces did nothing to mask their worry and he realized that it wasn't just for Vin, but now for him as well. Glancing back up at the mountain he thought of the search and his actions of late. He hadn't exactly been following his heart for the last little while. He couldn't have been for that was the very thing he had been trying to avoid. Feeling. Not only had he lost faith in the bond he felt with these men and most especially with Vin, he had lost faith in himself and everything that having a family had taught him.

Having a wonderful woman like Sarah and the precious gift they had created in their son as a part of his life had shown him what was really important. But when he had lost them he had buried all thoughts and feelings that having a family to care for had brought out in him. And he had done a pretty good job of keeping it that way until the day he met Vin. Now he finally realized that he hadn't lost those things; they had just changed and were now being renewed with this new family he had to take care of. These men meant a lot to him. They had given him a new sense of purpose and belonging. They had given him a reason to care whether or not he got up in the morning. And the ringleader of this new infusion of life was now missing.

Vin had quietly moved into Chris's heart, just as effortlessly as he crept up on the enemy. The tracker likely had no idea of the effect he had on the solemn gunslinger. Without either of them fully realizing it, one scrawny Texan had renewed one battered gunslinger's faith in others and in himself, had given him hope for the future, and stirred feelings within of brotherly love. And without a doubt, Chris now knew that it was that faith, that hope, and that love that would lead him to his lost friend.

But first he had some fences to mend. Unwittingly he had turned his back on the support of men who also cared a great deal for Vin. Caught up in his own selfish worries and pain he had ignored theirs, expecting them to follow blindly wherever he chose to lead them, never giving a second thought to what they wanted or needed. They had entrusted him with their faith despite his unreasonable actions. That type of faith was not to be taken lightly.

'Faith is what gets you through when everything else in life is beating you down.' Somewhere in his memories someone had said that to him once. It was never truer than now because he sure felt pretty beat down at the moment. But with the faith of these men and the faith he had in Vin to hang on against heaven and hell, he would make it. He had to.

"Boys." Chris had to renew their faith just as surely as just looking at those five expectant faces had renewed his. "I know we all want to find Vin. And I also know that you're worried. Can't say as I blame ya. He's been missing for long enough in this weather that… Well, we all know what can happen."

Taking a deep breath before continuing he prayed that once he was done these five men wouldn't be ready to lock him up because they had decided he had finally gone off of the deep end. "I can't say as I can exactly explain why I brought us here or why I thought Vin would be out this way. But I know he is. I've been having these feelings and these… dreams." There, he'd actually admitted it and somehow it didn't feel like he was completely insane. Turning his gaze back up to the mountaintop he continued. "I think he's up there and he's waiting for us." Not waiting to be stopped by them he turned around to head for his horse.

"Then what are we waiting for?" JD cried with heartfelt conviction.

Having already started to mount his horse, Chris stopped, stunned by the enthusiastic reaction of the group's youngest. Then without turning he continued to mount, adding his own voice, with a strength that belied the still raw fear that had yet to truly release its hold on his heart. He had to be strong for his men and for Vin.

"Let's ride."

7*7*7*7*7*7

As the six solemn riders cleared the top edge of the summit each one took in the sight. The area expanded out further back than what one would have thought from below, joining with the range of mountains that continued on behind it. The overview of the land below was nothing short of spectacular. A large flat area held a small lake that was mostly frozen over with crystalline icicles hanging from large rock formations encompassing the back wall of its small expanse. A small waterfall that seemed to spout directly from the rocky mountainside was a wonder of reflected rainbows as the sun hit the icy flow. It was just as Chris remembered though even more breathtaking now that it was within winter's grasp and had the remnants of last night's snowstorm dotting the landscape.

Memories of his last trip to this very spot and the sight of the normally reserved tracker doing something so uncharacteristic brought a smile to the gunslinger's face. Vin had shucked every stitch of outer clothing down to his underwear and jumped into the placid water. Splashing around like a kid, Chris had eventually joined his friend for a bit of lighthearted fun. A life on the run gave the younger man little time to relax, but up here, in his element he had felt free. He had felt safe. Not just because of where he had been but whom he had been with. Chris was humbled by the implicit trust that Vin had granted him from the very first. It had been healing for both of them.

Dragging his attention back to the problem at hand, Chris scanned the area for the cave he remembered Vin showing him. There were a few smaller ones around the area, but this one had been good sized and just where the tracker would most likely have sought shelter. Finding the opening that was obscured to the naked eye by a natural formation of boulders, the gunslinger felt his heart skip a beat. Mixed feelings warring for control were wreaking havoc on his already frayed nerves. He so wanted to find Vin and yet feared beyond belief at just what finding him could mean. The search itself was tearing him apart inside, but if his worst fears became reality his current hell would become a more permanent condition.

By looking at the stoic gunslinger the turmoil within would seem unimaginable, but for the five men who rode with him, they knew better. They were very aware of the trepidation he felt for they too were battling their own similar uncertainties. Though it may have felt like several minutes of hesitation, in reality, it was merely seconds before Chris was dismounted and moving purposefully toward the rock wall before them. Following Chris's lead, despite the fact that they couldn't see the opening to the cave yet, each of the others dismounted and shadowed the dark leader.

They were all surprised when Chris seemed to vanish into the mountainside, but then saw the hidden opening as they grew closer. Once inside they stumbled over each other as Chris stopped short, unable to see within the darkened interior. Six sets of eyes searched frantically for a glimpse in the darkness of anything that would indicate their friend was there, none of them quite ready when their eyes adjusted and the pale form lying prone in a far corner became visible. Despite what their heads had constantly warned them of, their hearts had been unable to fully relinquish the slight hope that once finding Vin everything would be okay.

'Oh God! Vin?!' The words sprang to his mind even as his own throat constricted and his breath seemed to be sucked from his body. Chris was across the room in seconds, easily skirting the rocks and boulders that littered the floor of the cave. No obstacle would keep him from his intended destination.

Dropping to his knees beside Vin's still form he noticed the blood matted hair on the left side of his face. If not for that and the frighteningly pale complexion, one would have thought the young man merely asleep. But this wasn't just any man, this was Vin Tanner. A man with a $500 bounty on his head. The same man who could sleep through a raging thunderstorm, but awoke with gun in hand if even a twig snapped outside of the campsite. And the same man who hadn't moved since six clumsy men had stumbled noisily into his hiding place.

Not a single breath was taken as five men watched their healer bend down on the other side of their friend and reach up to the cold neck. Vin's skin almost had a bluish hue to it, only adding to each man's growing concern. Nathan sought much more than a pulse; he sought hope. His own fingers near numb from the frigid air he was shocked to find Vin's skin even cooler. The seconds ticked by as his deft fingers felt for the signs of life he feared deep within were not to be. His own mind praying silently. 'Please God. Don't let him be gone. Not after all of this.' To be so close and yet too late. 'Don't take him yet, Lord. Please?' Even though he knew his pleas were selfish in nature, he couldn't help the fear and anger that coursed through his veins. It was an extreme effort for the healer to keep the rising panic growing within his own heart from showing on his face as he abandoned Vin's neck to lean over the tracker's chest and listen. It had to be there. There was no way Vin could be gone from them. Not like this.

The others just continued to stare; their initial resurgence of hope quickly dwindling with Nathan's slightly panicked movements. With each fleeting dart of the healer's dark eyes and his continued silence they knew that no life had been found within their friend's body.

Movement came, but not from the man on the ground. Nathan felt himself pushed away from the tracker's body as dark clad arms reached out to gather the lifeless form up. Looking up at the seven's leader most would have seen a face of cold stone, but as his friend, Nathan saw a man wracked with unspeakable pain.

No one made a move to stop Chris as he cradled the still body against his chest with an almost imperceptible rocking motion, as if holding a child. Buck, unable to stand the sight, choked back a sob then quickly ran from the cave, quickly followed by a fearful and confused JD. The youngest was torn between his own uncertainties and the look he had seen on the ladies' man's face just now. If he couldn't help Vin he could at least see to Buck.

Josiah began praying silently for the soul taken and the broken souls left behind. Many a difficult task had the ex-preacher faced over his years and still this one seemed so daunting. It was one thing to protect and minister to the souls of others and he had on occasion offered counsel to each of the other peacekeepers. But how was he supposed to comfort the others while his own spirit felt as if it were dying?

Ezra remained frozen in place, unsure of what to do. His initial reaction had been to run for all he was worth, but he had made a promise to himself to never run out on these men again. And deep in his heart he was certain that this incredible pain he was feeling at the moment was something that he couldn't have outran if he tried.

Nathan felt the tears pool in his eyes. It was never easy to lose a patient when he had worked so diligently to save them, but this time he hadn't even been given a chance to try. How many times in the past had he cursed himself for not knowing more or having greater skills? This time it hadn't mattered what he knew or didn't know and it hurt even worse.

Chris felt as if his consciousness had drifted off to another place and time. The soul shattering sense of loss that he had vowed never to allow himself to feel again was once more searing through the very fiber of his being. It was almost surreal as he sat oblivious to the actions of the other five men around him. At that moment it was just Chris and the cold lifeless body of his best friend, his soul keeper. There was little cognizant thought involved in the recognition, it was just a fact felt deep within. With the loss of this remarkable life-force cradled in his arms he would also lose what little bit of good that remained in the very core of his being. His world had once more turned into a living nightmare.

PART  2

JD wasn't sure what to do. It felt just like when his mother had died and sent his entire world spinning out of control. But he wasn't the same man he was back then. In fact, at that time he hadn't been a man at all. It had taken some hard lessons and six good men to show him what being a man was all about. And yet at the moment he had seen Vin's lifeless body and watched as two of the men he respected most in this world were lost, one in death and one by the other's loss, he felt more like a frightened child than he had in a very long time. Lost in his own doubts and worries for the future he felt selfish to be thinking of himself at such a time. Then a sound to his left drew his attention back to the others and more importantly to the man who had given him so much more than friendship.

Though each man in the group was like family to the youngest, no one was closer than Buck. He was like an older brother. Especially with the way he constantly rode herd over JD like a mother hen. Sometimes it was more annoying than helpful, but deep down the younger man knew it was all meant out of concern for his welfare. Buck was always there when he needed him. And from the pained look on the ladies' man's face just before he fled the cave and the raw quiet sob that had escaped the soft hearted man's lips, it was obvious that it was time for JD to return the favor. Knowing that the others would look after Chris he went after his friend and brother.

As the young sheriff emerged from the darker interior of the cave he put his hand up to shade his eyes from the blinding sunshine. The glare from the snow was incredible and it took a few moments for his vision to adjust. Finally able to discern the surroundings, he couldn't find Buck anywhere. Then a sound from behind the trees not only caught his attention but nearly broke his heart.

During the search that day Buck had been shadowed by the frightening mental picture that had just unfolded into reality right before his eyes in the cave. Shouldering the guilt that his interference might be to blame for the situation, the sight of his oldest friend once again facing his worst fear all over again was more than he could stand. Seeing Vin lying so still and pale on the cold cavern floor had sent his emotions plummeting, but when Nathan had been unable to find signs of life and Chris had pushed him away gathering the younger man into his arms, it had felt as if his heart had broken right in two. Unable to suppress the anguished sob that escaped him he ran out of the cave and sought shelter in the trees that lined the right side of the cave near the little lake. So lost in his own self-recrimination and grief, he never heard JD approach. He hadn't wanted the kid to see him like this, as the tears flowed down his face and he gasped for breath.

JD just stood at the edge of the tree line. He could see Buck where he had slid to the ground, his back against one of the trees. The big man's face was buried in his hands and the strong shoulders shook with emotion. Not wanting to embarrass him, JD hung back for a few minutes, giving the ladies' man time to compose himself. Somehow Buck must have sensed his presence because his face lifted to look directly at the young sheriff.

It was a well-known fact that Buck had a heart of gold and often wore it on his sleeve without regard. Ladies were held in high esteem and his friends received a loyalty of utmost importance to him. Though the two could come into conflict on occasion, the others knew that in the end, they could always count on Buck. JD depended on the older man's knowledge and guidance though he might never admit it out loud. He had seen many sides of the man who was an open book for all the world to read, but JD had never seen him like this and it was a bit unnerving.

He had seen the big ladies' man happy. Buck's natural personality was boisterous and fun loving. Anger was something that came out on occasions when either someone of the fairer sex or one of his friends was in danger. His easygoing nature hid a fierce sense of right and wrong that when unleashed could be a force to be reckoned with. Of all of the seven Buck was the one who showed the most emotions. But this was different. Buck seemed consumed with grief. They all cared for Vin and had also assumed that of all of them a tragic outcome to the search would have had the hardest consequences on their leader. Maybe that was it. Buck was not only grieving for the loss of one friend, but of two.

Somehow his own discomfort and worry at the moment seemed to take a backseat. He had to help Buck and in doing so help himself. If he could just figure out how he was supposed to do that. As the shaking shoulders and hitched breaths slowed, JD took a tentative step forward, still unsure. He'd faced villains, guns, dynamite, and numerous trials since he'd joined up with the seven. He'd been scared and nervous many times. Buck had even been the one to tell him that only a fool wouldn't be nervous, because that was what would help keep him alive. Well, he was certainly nervous right now and the only way to get through it was to face it head on.

"Buck?" His own voice sounded weak and childish to him. Clearing his throat and attempting to show strength he didn't really feel, he tried again. "Buck?! Are you okay?" Stupid question. Of course he wasn't okay. 'Great start, JD.'

"I mean, well,…" He was floundering and that only made him angry at himself. 'Damnit.' This wasn't going well. Most of what he had learned had been through the examples set by the others, so what would they do? Nathan was good at putting others at ease with his quiet spoken way. He might even offer some medicinal tea to help Buck relax. Ezra would probably spout some big speech full of five dollar words that JD couldn't half understand. Josiah would quote some relevant scripture or tell some significant tale of the past. Chris, well…. Under these circumstances, JD wasn't sure what the hardened gunslinger would do, but he was Buck's oldest friend. Then Vin…. JD felt his stomach recoil at just the thought of his friend and mentor. Vin would know what to do. He always seemed to just be there when he was needed.

Then a thought occurred to the young sheriff. He knew what Vin would do. Walking over to where Buck sat against the tree, his head still down, JD sat down beside him to sit quietly. Offering his support and friendship without saying a word. Buck would talk when he was ready and the younger man would wait patiently and listen.

A few silent minutes passed, feeling like so much longer, before Buck spoke. His voice was low and rough with barely suppressed emotion.

"This is all my fault."

JD had to work hard to keep the look of utter shock off of his face. Since starting out to find Buck his mind had been working through all of the reasons he could imagine for his friend's severe reaction to the recent turn of events, but the ladies' man's first five words completely caught the young man off guard. That was not what he had been expecting to hear.

As Buck began his heartfelt confession, JD listened silently. All the while his mind was working furiously to think of the right things to say to not only ease the big man's suffering, but make him understand that he was not responsible for what had happened.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Consciousness was fleeting as Vin once again found himself drifting through the fog that was supposed to be his brain. Fleeting images of snow, flying, pain, a warm cabin, and a kind feminine voice bounced through him like echoes off the walls of a vast canyon. Not quite as loud and clear as they should be, but nonetheless real to him even as he desperately clawed at the memories trying to gain some equilibrium in his unbalanced state. Where was he? And why was it so dark?

At first he felt nothing. No pain or sickness. He was neither hot nor cold. And the darkness, though a bit disconcerting, was also a touch peaceful. Then the sensations started. Slowly at first, then building at an almost alarming rate as his entire body felt on fire one minute and then totally encased in ice the next. The pain itself came more slowly, like a thousand pins pressing against his bare skin.

The recollection of a child, a small boy, talking to him, asking him to hang on, and holding to his hand floated through his mind like a whisper on the wind. He had promised to look out for the boy until… Lizbeth returned. The boy's mother was gone and he was all alone. A familiar pang of loneliness ripped through him more powerful than any amount of physical pain could have.

His mother had left him once. She hadn't meant to, hadn't wanted to. This he knew in his head and in his heart, but still it hurt with a familiar intensity. This time he had left a small boy to fend for himself. The feel of the tiny hand within his own was gone, leaving in its wake a growing sense of dread. Thoughts of guilt assailed him. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you alone.'

The ground beneath him seemed to give way and it felt as if he were falling. Completely out of control and with nothing to grab on to, his heart pounded in his ears and he flailed uselessly. But somewhere in the darkness he felt a hand latch on to his, slowing his descent. The grip was unyielding and exuded a powerful intensity that seemed to replenish his own weakening spirit. This was not the hand of a child and yet it too was familiar. The feeling of strength similar to that of the child's. Then he heard it.

'Don't do this. Not again. I can't take this again.'

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The gunslinger's own thoughts of despair clouded his mind, blocking out anything else that was happening around him. How could this have happened again? How had he allowed it? Just stop for a drink, maybe a bath and a bed for the night, and then probably some more whiskey. He'd never planned to stay. Never planned on getting involved in someone else's fight. And he sure as hell never planned on meeting one scrawny assed Texan with blue eyes that could see into his very soul.

But then again, had he not, Nathan would likely be dead, the Seminole village would have been destroyed and a long list of dire consequences would now be a reality. Even with all of these thoughts his main focus remained on the fact that had he just walked away, his heart would not feel again as if it had shattered into a million pieces. And the deep ache that currently resided within his chest would not feel as if it were squeezing every ounce of life from his body.

The weight in his arms was no comparison to the heaviness of his heart. His hardened green eyes raked over the pale form that had once held so much life. It still seemed unreal. Vin's body was like a block of ice, but Chris barely noticed. It had been cold out in the open winter air during the search for his missing friend. The gunslinger had felt it seep into every bone and muscle. But with the outcome of the search another coldness more chilling than the artic winds had begun to take over within him.

'Damn you, Vin Tanner. How dare you do this to me.' Chris' thoughts were consumed with pain and fear. Without conscious thought, Chris reached down to take Vin's cold hand in his. 'Don't do this. Not again. I can't take this again.'

A twitch of a finger nearly caused Chris to drop the hand he now held. Green eyes, wide with shock and uncertainty, stared down at the younger man's face. Was he imagining things or had Vin's hand just moved? Watching closely for any other signs of life, holding desperately to a hope, a prayer, the blond didn't dare blink lest he miss something. 'Please let this be real, let Vin be alive.'

The next twitch was around the closed eyes. Barely discernable and once again causing Chris to wonder if it was just his tired mind playing tricks on him. But he couldn't let go of the glimmer of warmth that crept into his heart.

What happened next would truly stay with every man in that cave for the rest of their lives. If asked of the event the first thing to come to mind and heart would have been 'a miracle'. But they would verbally assess it to sheer will and mule-headed stubbornness. And never before had they been more relieved by such traits.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

"Awww heee…ellll."

The quiet expression was more breath than anything and mostly slurred, but in the dazed silence it echoed in the hearts of every man in the cave. Had it not been something they had all heard on numerous occasions from the unassuming tracker, they likely wouldn't have even understood it. But this particular turn of phrase was a trademark.

Nathan felt all of the blood drain from his own face in shock. Josiah's silent prayers stopped abruptly. Ezra swallowed hard, not sure if he should question his hearing or start taking bets on his own sanity. And Chris…?

The blond nearly choked on his own air at the garbled sound of his best friend's voice. Already certain to never hear it again, it was a sweeter sound than anything he could think of at the moment. His heart seemed to swell within his chest, but he quickly tempered the building hope with the grim reality of many a hard life's lessons learned. "Nathan?"

Chris's voice jolted the healer from his astonishment. Nathan had seen many things in his life as a slave, a stretcher bearer, and afterwards as he traveled looking for his place in life. But never before had he seen someone awake from the dead and he was sure that was what had just happened. Vin had been cold and lifeless. Maybe he wasn't a doctor, but he knew how to check for a pulse and Vin's heart had not been beating. Had it?

The time for questioning his abilities or sanity would have to wait. He had a live patient to look after.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The first thing Vin was aware of was that he hurt. From his pounding head to his throbbing and tingling extremities. The words came out of his mouth instinctually and he hadn't even realized he had spoken out loud. Awareness gave way to even more unpleasant sensations. Cold. Bone aching cold. He felt like he was lying on a block of ice or then again maybe he was the block of ice.

Had he not been so numb he would have realized that he was being held. Something that might have elicited a violent reaction. Chris was one step ahead of this possibility. Not ready to let go of his hold on his friend and not caring at the moment what anyone else thought about it, he tried to reassure Vin. He knew the tracker better than most. Knew how much he disliked being touched and some of the disturbing reasons why. More than once someone had mistakenly startled the young man and nearly paid the price.

"Vin. You're okay." His voice sounded a lot calmer than he really felt. The tones soothing like when he used to talk to Adam when his son had awakened from a nightmare. "You hear me? Everything's gonna be just fine now." Even as the words left his mouth his brain added. 'God, I wish that were a certainty.'

Vin's body shifted ever so slightly in Chris's grasp and a low moan escaped the injured man.

"Easy there, Vin." Nathan's practiced hands held the tracker's shoulder's firmly even as Chris tightened his own hold slightly, not sure just what injuries their friend had suffered and not wanting to further complicate any of them. "I'm just gonna check him over, Chris." Nathan used the same calming voice with his leader, noticing the tightly coiled tension that seemed to exude from the blond's body. No doubt, the tracker's needs were the only thing at the moment holding him together.

"Listen to Nathan, Vin." Chris' words were directed at Vin even as his eyes met up with Nathan's. The healer was taken aback by the pleading look in them. He had seen it often enough in his chosen profession. It was the look many a loved one had given him as a family member lay sick or injured. That look that said so much, demanded so much. The unspoken plea that practically gave voice to the bearer's deepest, darkest fears. 'Please don't let him/her die.' It was a look that always caused the knot in his stomach to coil that much tighter and a look he had never thought to see in one Chris Larabee's icy green eyes.

Quickly turning away from that gaze that had echoed his own fears, Nathan took his hands from Vin's shoulders and began to slowly assess for damage to the slight frame.

The still cold skin had Nathan quickly regaining control of the situation and yelling out demands, knowing they would be carried out without question. "Josiah, stay close in case I needs ya. Ezra, get every blanket and bedroll in here." Not aware of anything but Vin, he continued handing out jobs. "Buck and JD, find some wood and get us a fire goin'. This boy's like a block a ice. Gotta get him thawed out and quick like. Also, find some clothes in his saddlebags and put 'em near the fire so's they can warm up."

Josiah looked up to notice for the first time that two of the fold were absent. Ezra caught his gaze and having remembered hearing some noise as Buck and JD had left, tilted his head toward the exit and shrugged. "I'll see to it that our comrades in arms are briefed on their assignments and administer to them post haste." Then the gambler practically ran out of the cave, causing a slight grin to tug at the preacher's lips and a snide thought came to mind. 'Ezra, you are such a fraud.'

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

"Vin's dead and it's all my fault. Chris'll never forgive me and I don't blame 'em one little bit. You'da thought I'd learned my lesson before to keep my nose out his business, but no…" Buck had been rambling for the last couple of minutes having explained to JD all about telling Vin to leave Chris alone. JD just sat, his butt near frozen, and listened like Vin had often done for him; all the while still trying to figure out just what to say once the big ladies' man ran out of steam. Visions of Vin sneaking out of Nathan's clinic by way of the window and that same wily tracker turning to walk away even as Chris, glare staring daggers, was still 'talking' to him nearly made the youth laugh out loud, but he suppressed it. Instead he turned his big hazel eyes to face his best friend head on. He had just one little question to ask.

"Buck." The firmness in the kid's voice caught the older man's attention and he stopped speaking in mid ramble. Tearful blue eyes looked up, full of remorse. And with the straightest face he could manage, JD asked. "When was the last time you saw Vin do anything just because someone told him to?"

It took a second for JD's line of thinking to dawn on the big man and even he could barely resist a tight smile at the thought of anyone trying to tell the stubborn tracker what to do. The kid had a point. And he might have even had time to reflect on it and see the sense in it had a fast moving figure not interrupted the two.

"If you two are quite finished communing with the natural elements our adept healer is in need of your assistance."

Reality came crashing back to JD and Buck with a gut sickening clarity.

"Your newly acquired duties include gathering firewood for the campfire, starting said campfire within the confines of the natural fissure, and retrieving some fresh attire for our wayward friend."

"Huh!" Buck and JD's voices echoed each other.

This time it wasn't the lack of understanding the gambler's terminology that had evoked the twin responses, but the reasoning behind said requested actions. Why in the world did they need to start a fire? Surely they weren't planning on staying here? And clothes?

A sudden worry exploded in Buck's mind. Chris? Had something happened to Chris? He knew the dark gunslinger was distraught, but surely he hadn't done anything rash.

With the speed born of many a mad dash out of numerous compromising situations, the ladies' man was up and in the cave before either of the other two men knew what was happening.

The scene that awaited Buck when he entered the cave was nothing he could have imagined. Chris was much the same as he had been before, still seated on the ground with the tracker cradled in his lap. But what was different was that the lifeless body wasn't so lifeless anymore. Buck thought his knees would buckle with shocked relief as a feeble pale hand tried to push against Nathan's as the persistent healer felt around the tracker's torso.

Chris quickly snatched the errant hand, clasping it in his own. The hand was still like ice, but held a warmth suffused by the mere fact that it was moving. "Stop it, Vin. Let Nathan take care of ya. Ya listening to me?" Despite the demanding words, there was no anger held in the tone, only concern and a touch of relief.

Had JD not nearly ran into him, causing him to grab at the wall to keep from falling, he was sure his weak knees would have already betrayed him. The big man's quiet whisper seemed to echo louder in the cave. "Vin?"

Chris looked up, as did Josiah. Buck's face spoke a thousand emotions. Fear, relief, and … something else? The preacher figured he should go and help motivate the open mouthed pair now gaping at their newly revived friend and hurried out of the cave, dragging them behind him. He would enlighten the two and then make sure Nathan's orders were carried out.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Chris stood just away from where Nathan was tucking an unconscious Vin into the mountain of warmed blankets. He had held the younger man until the icy body had once again gone completely limp. Even though Nathan had reassured him that the tracker was only unconscious, the dead weight was all too familiar. Josiah had easily lifted the slight man and placed him on the bedrolls near the fire that Buck had been building.

Not even sure himself what he was feeling, his own emotions confused him. One minute he had been unable to pull himself from Vin's side and the next he couldn't stand to be near him. Almost as if the tight rein he had on his raging fear would overcome him should he even touch the young tracker who at the moment looked even younger. Childlike even.

Chris had stood silently and watched as Nathan had instructed Josiah to strip to his underwear and crawl into the blankets with Vin. All of them knew enough about the cold to understand that the big man's body heat was vital in restoring the freezing man's own natural body warmth. It had been an internal struggle not to just push the preacher out of the way and do it himself. Vin was his best friend and the gunslinger was still feeling the lingering guilt for the fight that had sent his friend out into the cold.

But his stubborn manly pride, fueled by an unmentionable panic, won out over his heart and still he stood as others tended to his best friend. Over an hour passed as the others milled around the cave, bringing things in or taking things out. Water, wood, saddlebags. Movement everywhere, save for two individuals. One because he lay unconscious on the ground below and the other because he didn't dare for fear of breaking the spell. With each rise and fall of Vin's chest, Chris felt his own heart continue to beat. And so he stood like a statue and watched.

Daring a quick glance around the cave he naturally took mental note of what the others were doing. JD and Ezra were putting Vin's saddlebags back together after retrieving the fresh clothing. Nathan and Josiah were still attending the injured man. And Buck was working on the campfire. Barely acknowledging the vigor with which the ladies' man was working and noting only that at the rate he was going the fire would take over the cave soon, Chris turned his attention back to his best friend. Still frighteningly motionless. Nathan looked up and saw the lines of worry that seemed permanently etched in the blonde's face. Patting Josiah on the shoulder to indicate he should watch over Vin, he stood up and crossed to where their leader stood.

Though his mind tracked the healer's movements, Chris's ever watchful eyes never left Vin. He started to ask the question he wasn't sure he wanted answered, but Nathan beat him to the punch.

"I'll just go ahead and tell ya. I don't know if he's gonna make it or not. What I do know is that he ought to be dead, but he's not. He should have froze to death, but he didn't. Call it luck, stubbornness, or a miracle, but that boy ought not to still be breathin'… But he is. I also know he's one all fired lucky son of a gun. With the distance he fell…" He didn't have to complete the thought for they all knew what could, and should, have happened.

"The worst of it is that gash on his noggin', bled quite a bit, and he's likely got a concussion. Some of them ribs are bruised up good but not broke. Lots a cuts and scraps. Some almighty bad bruises. But it don't feel like anything's broke. Got him cleaned up and wrapped up as best I can for now." Blowing out a breath of frustration and sheer confusion he continued. "Of course I also ain't gonna lie to ya. That head wound alone is bad enough. Unpredictable. He near froze to death. Hell, he did freeze to death. And there's no telling what I might be missing 'til he wakes up good and can tell us where all he's a hurtin'."

Nathan paused as he glanced back over at his patient then without looking at Chris added, "He's warmer now, but… He's still too cold. Gotta get him warmed up real good so's he don't go gettin' pneumonia, but…" He wasn't sure how Chris was going to react to the next piece of information. "We can't stay here."

The blond's head snapped to regard the dark healer as if he were some unknown entity suddenly sprung from the ground below. "What?" The voice had a low threatening quality to it and every taut muscle on the brooding blonde's body rippled with barely restrained fury. Having expected no less, Nathan ignored the warnings, knowing they were natural gut reactions to what the gunslinger thought of as a threat. Not to himself, but something much more important. Vin.

Nathan swallowed before continuing. He had to make his point not only for Vin's sake, but for the safety of them all. "I know's what ya thinkin'. I don't like it none neither, but Josiah and I were talkin'. There's not enough wood around to keep much of a fire going for more 'n a day at the most unlessen we start bringin' some trees down." Reading the gunslinger's thoughts and knowing he would chop the whole mountain down if he thought it would help Vin, Nathan quickly continued.

"And iffen we stay up here tonight, I just ain't too sure when we'll be able to get back down. For one thing the skies are clear and the temperature's already starting to drop out there. You think it was cold last night? Well, tonight's likely to be twice as bad. What little has melted on that ledge that's supposed to be our path down is gonna be frozen solid by morning. And Josiah suspects more snow is on the way. Even JD said that Vin told him to expect a snowfall Christmas Day. Haven't known him to be far off on the weather yet. Has a sense about it." Nathan waited for it all to sink in.

Chris didn't like it. Not at all. But even with his tired and worried brain he could understand the logic in what Nathan was saying. Allowing his gaze to drift once again to the man who he would face any danger to save, he felt the yoke of leadership once again weighing him down. This wasn't just Vin's safety they were talking about. By staying where they were or even waiting to go back to town until the next day he was risking all of their lives. He knew each one of them would gladly do it for the sake of one of the others, including Vin. But Vin wouldn't want that and neither would he if the situation was reversed. Plus, Vin's life might be even more at risk if they stayed. Damned if they did and damned if they didn't.

There really was only one choice.

"Pack up! We're leaving in less than thirty minutes. I want to be back in town before midnight. And, put on all the extra clothes you can manage. It's going to get cold fast." As an unspoken afterthought, 'And Nathan's already got his hands full.'

Josiah saw Buck start to stand up. Saw the look of protest in his eyes and gently laid a hand on the tense shoulder. "We don't have a choice, brother. The weather's working against us."

Buck knew in his head they were right, but his heart was still hurting from the near miss and the small reprieve he had felt when he walked back into the cave to find Vin alive. It was like a man awaiting the guillotine and getting a pardon. Yet still he felt as if the blade lay just above his head and the hot breath of his executioner was brushing against the hairs of his neck. Nothing would be okay until he knew for sure that Vin would be all right. He had overheard Nathan's words to Chris. This wasn't over by a long shot. The jury was still out assessing his guilt even when he himself had already pronounced himself at fault.

Screwing up his own courage and mentally kicking himself into gear, Chris walked over and knelt by Vin. Reaching out a tentative hand, held steady by sheer will, he started to lay it upon Vin's forehead. His gut clenched tight at the still colorless face shrouded by Vin's light brown hair. Memories of the cool skin against his own, too much akin to death, made him resist the touch and he pulled back, angry at himself more than anything. Instead, he carefully adjusted the blankets around Vin's neck, making sure they didn't come up too high. Vin didn't like his head covered in the least and kept the blankets away from his neck. It was just one of the little things that Chris had noticed over time. Whether it was from not wanting to feel closed in, the reminder of the noose that awaited him in Tascosa, or a little of both, the gunslinger wasn't sure, but either way it was the little bits of knowledge that showed him just how close he had become to the ex-bounty hunter.

The fact that Vin liked sugar in his coffee only when he was relaxed, the way he arranged things in his saddlebags a certain way making sure the things he would need first were always on top at the ready, or the nervous habit he had of looking at his hands and ducking his head when someone or something made him self-conscious. Things most people would pay little or no heed to were the things Chris held in his heart like small pieces of golden treasure. It sounded stupid, but then he realized just how many little things he remembered about Sarah. The way she liked to sing when she was working around the house, the way she always set the table the same way every time and if he moved anything she would unconsciously move it back, or the way she talked endlessly when she was nervous. God, he missed those little things.

Feeling his resolve waning he reached out to lay his hand on Vin's shoulder. 'Don't you quit on me yet. Don't you dare.' With a gentle squeeze he stood up and nearly fell back down as a wave of dizziness hit him like a stone wall.

Buck had been watching Chris out of the corner of his eye as he helped to pack up the camp. He wanted to talk to Chris, to confess his guilt and ease his conscious, but knew this wasn't the time or place. His oldest friend was carrying enough burdens and didn't need him to add to them. It could keep for now. Buck saw Chris start to stand up then sway. Lightning quick reflexes that were a necessity for any gunslinger had him at his leader's side before he could hit the ground.

"Whoa there, stud." Buck felt his own worries increase tenfold as he eased Chris back to the ground. "Just sit yourself right here. Nathan?" Josiah and Nathan were just coming back inside when the cry was heard.

The dark healer knelt down in front of his second patient. In all of his worry over Vin he had all but forgotten about the knock to the head that Chris had taken earlier in the day. Combine that with the physical and emotional exhaustion that was plain in every line of the blonde's face and it was a wonder he hadn't passed out on them already. "Chris? I know you have to have a headache, but are you having any blurred vision or nausea?"

Chris pushed the hands that held him away, but didn't try to get up. "I'm fine. Just got up too fast." His angry tone was from frustration and the knowledge that he just didn't have time for this. Vin was in a bad way and he had to…, they had to get him back to town. Taking a deep breath, and trying hard to keep his voice more even, he replied. "It's been a long day. Just give me a minute and I'll be fine." Bringing his green eyes up to meet the dark brown ones of Nathan's he tried to show more confidence than he felt.

Either it worked or Nathan just wasn't in the mood to fight him. "Alright, but if ya start feelin' sick or dizzy again, you let me know. And when we gets back to town I want ya to get some food and rest." Nathan knew that trying to push it now wouldn't work. Not until Vin was safely tucked away in his clinic. But once that was done, he'd see to it that Chris listened to him even if he had to enlist a little help to insure his orders were carried out. "Just sit right there and look after Vin whiles we gets things ready and don't go arguing with me. Whether ya likes it or not, ya took a right nasty knock to the head. And like I said before, those are unpredictable. You don't want me to have two patients to worry over, now do ya?"

The no nonsense tone of the healer brooked no argument from the tired gunslinger. Truth be told Chris felt like shit. It wasn't bad enough that the haunting memories of holidays past had robbed him of proper rest and sustenance for over a week and now this. God, he felt like he could sleep for a week. But even that prospect was frightening, especially after the dreams he had been having of late. So sit he did, mapping out in his mind the quickest route back to town and running scenarios in his mind as to how long it would take. Anything to keep his mind off the morbid feelings that kept trying to creep in. So lost in trying not to think about how pale Vin was, how unnaturally still, he didn't even realize that the others had finished with the preparations and were ready to leave until Josiah reached down a hand to help him up.

"Buck and I are going to take turns carrying Vin." Josiah spoke firmly, all the while expecting some protest. When it didn't come he began to worry even more. He knew Chris was worried about Vin, they all were, but this was unnatural. Other times when Vin had been injured it had been Chris who sat with him constantly. Chris who was there nearly every time the tracker needed a drink of water or a steadying hand. And Chris who staunchly insisted on carrying his wounded brother with him on his horse, holding to the younger man as if he held his own life within his grasp. And in some ways, the big preacher figured that was true.

There was definitely something deeper going on. It was as if the black clad gunslinger was still pulling away. Maybe it was too much to ask for the blond to battle the past demons while being faced with all too similar ones in the present. For now he'd let it go. Once they got back to town he would see if some intervention and guidance were needed, for there was little doubt in Josiah's mind that if anyone could will Vin Tanner back into the land of the living it was Chris Larabee.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Within minutes the group was once again mounted and once again seven, though for how long, none of them knew or cared to speculate on. Buck had vehemently insisted on taking the first turn at carrying Vin, while the others spaced themselves along the trail for safety should the ground prove already more treacherous. They had found their lost brother and now were taking him home, but heavy hearts still abounded. The initial happiness of Vin being alive was now tempered with stark reality that he still could be lost to them.

It was a quiet trip with each man lost in his own thoughts and worries. Chris threw himself into getting his men safely home, completely blocking out everything else that vied for his attention. Nathan hovered near his dangerously ill patient while trying to keep an eye on Chris, though he feared that the deepest wounds of the dark clad gunslinger were far beyond his repair. With each mile traveled he hoped that the tracker would awaken at least enough to drink some water. The majority of his injuries, though not life threatening, only added to the problems of exposure. Then there was the head wound and the chance of some internal injury that he was unaware of. They had yet to see Vin fully conscious and other than the quiet curse that had welcomed him back into the land of the living and a few movements and moans, the young man had been unresponsive and thus unable to give any indication to unseen injuries. But this was the night of the greatest of all miracles, so like the others, Nathan hoped beyond hope for another.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

As the weary travelers neared their destination, the lights from the street bonfires in town were visible. The night had turned bitter cold, just as they had suspected, and each of them were thankful for Chris's warning to don extra clothing though even that only helped a little. Though the day's sun had erased nearly every trace of the previous night's storm, a few clouds were now beginning to move in with the promise of more snow to come. Vin rarely missed when predicting the weather and none of them had any doubt that by tomorrow winter would once again rear its ugly head. Though it might only last a short time in town and the surrounding flat lands, the area where they had found Vin would likely be enshrouded with winter's glory until Spring. It had been a sound decision to get back to town. In an area that normally saw a relatively mild winter, there were exceptions and this winter had already proven to be one.

The town was quiet as they rode in. It was Christmas Eve and most folks were at home with their families. And the freezing temperatures had likely sent those without families home early. Even the saloons were closed, the darkened windows and closed doors only adding to the gloom the men felt. Pulling up at the livery they dismounted and quickly got Vin up to Nathan's clinic. JD and Ezra took care of the horses with some help from Yosemite, who had been keeping watch for the men to return, while the others helped to prepare the things the healer needed upstairs. Fresh water, a roaring fire in the woodstove with plenty of extra wood on the landing, and bandages to wrap around Vin's battered and bruised torso were all prepared without a word being said. This was becoming all too common of a routine for the seven lawmen.

Within an hour, Vin was settled into the bed with the fire in the woodstove blazing and the others gathered quietly around the small room, the silence nearly deafening. Ezra had backed himself in one of the corners and was shuffling his ever-present deck of cards, a nervous habit he was barely even aware of. Buck and JD stood nearby, propped against the wall, their naturally boisterous natures dampened by the gravity of the circumstances. Josiah sat on the opposite side of the bed, his hand unconsciously playing with the cross he wore around his neck and watching as Nathan finished checking Vin over for what seemed like the hundredth time. Chris stood next to the window, separated from the others by a lot more than just the length of the floor, as if physically and emotionally closing himself off from what was happening.

The tension was so thick amongst the men that it was almost visible floating through the air. The heaviness of it enough to knock the breath out of any man as everyone awaited Nathan's verdict, each too afraid to ask the question. Would Vin be alright?

Years of practice at keeping his face as neutral as possible when dealing with patients and their families had become habit for the dark skinned healer, but as he checked Vin again, he felt his resolve failing. This wasn't just any patient or just any family; this was his friend and his family. A task that he had never found easy was so much more difficult this time. Their eyes. Nathan felt a shudder run through his large frame. He could always see it in their eyes. The hope that everything would be okay, that he would make them that way. If only he could.

Looking up to glance around the small clinic he braced himself against the task ahead. Swallowing against the sickness he felt within his own stomach he made sure his face showed none of the raging fear and doubt he felt within. The others shifted or stood up straight in anticipation, each knowing by Nathan's look that he was ready to talk. The room fell still, like a courtroom awaiting the verdict with Nathan, the judge, about to pass sentence.

"I've done what I can for him for now." The words seemed so much hollower when said out loud. What had he done? Cleaned up the cuts and scrapes, put a few stitches in the gash on Vin's head, rewrapped the bruised ribs,… "Like I told ya's before, he's pretty banged up and that knock to the head is the worst of it." Through all of his ministrations the tracker had yet to stir since being aroused in the cave at the beginning. "I won't know anymore until he wakes up." At least that was what he said, but the whole time was thinking, 'if he wakes up'.

"But he's gonna be okay, right?" JD's quiet, shaky voice held a note of fear that they all felt. "I mean, once he wakes up, he'll be fine?"

"I wish I could tell ya that he will, but fact is, I just don't know." A nervous glance to his right toward where Chris was standing revealed that the dark figure hadn't moved; still staring out the window at something only he could see. More than likely the past. Nathan just hoped that the gunslinger was listening because he sure wasn't in the mood to repeat himself. Looking back toward the others and trying to avoid JD, knowing the look in the youth's eyes might break his well-constructed composure, he finished. "Like I said, I've done what I can. Have to watch out for fever. After being out all night like he was, that's always a worry. Need ta keep 'em still and warm, wait for 'em to wake up, and… pray." The last word was more breathed than spoken, as the very saying of it belied the true gravity of the situation.

Silence once more descended as each man contemplated Nathan's words, each fully aware of the seriousness of what he had said and the uncertainty caused by what he hadn't. The feeling of helplessness that their healer had been struggling with for hours was also gaining intensity within this room full of men of action. Give them someone in distress and without thought they would be off to the rescue. Tell them of some outlaws who needed to feel the long arm of the law and the words 'let's ride' would echo through the town. But standing here watching for Vin to keep breathing, wanting him to wake up and cuss at them or gripe about no account gunslingers and sneaky healers, and waiting for someone to tell them that this Christmas wouldn't be celebrated by the death of a man who was like a brother to each of them, was almost more than they could handle.

A gentle knock at the door startled them all, whether they showed it or not, and Buck, who was the closest, reached to open it. It was late and very few people had been stirring as they road into town. Other than Peter Atkins who had helped stand watch over the town while they had been gone and Yosemite, they had not encountered another soul with the lateness of the hour and the holiday. But the young woman now standing in the doorway was only a slight surprise.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Inez had kept watch on the road out of town off and on all day. When not a single member of the town's group of peacekeepers had shown up for coffee that morning she had begun to worry. Word in a small town always traveled fast and it wasn't long before the knowledge spread that the other six had all rode out in the wee morning hours to look for their seventh, Vin. No one was quite sure why, but the pretty young barmaid had been around the seven men long enough to know that they all possessed uncanny instincts when it came to trouble. The tight bond between the group's leader and his second in command was also very obvious to her. They were like brothers, whether they realized it or not. In fact, the whole group quibbled and fought like a band of siblings, be it with outlaws or each other.

Each of the men was special to her as it had been these very men who had fought to protect her from the likes of Don Paulo when he had shown up in town. Buck had fought for her honor and though the ladies' man often drove her near insane with his constant flirting and innuendos, it was hard not to like the dashing and truly kindhearted rogue. Then there was Vin, who had made himself her appointed bodyguard, seeing to it that no harm came to her and even protecting her from her own foolishness when she had attempted to kill the man who had become her living nightmare. Ezra had given her a job without really knowing anything about her and made it possible for her to stop running for a while and make her own way. Job opportunities for young women were few and far between.

These men had shown her nothing but kindness and consideration, seeing to her safety time and time again in a job that though very interesting, could also put her in some danger. Whether it was a group of drunk and rowdy cowhands, or a sleazy customer who was determined to be a bit too friendly, it seemed as if one or more of the seven just happened to show up when needed to lend a hand or fist or gun. Whatever it took. They made the town feel safer. They made her feel safer.

Watching them now, from her perch behind the bar, she prayed silently for the five before her and the two absent. She prayed for Vin's recovery and the reuniting of the men who meant more to this dusty little town than likely they or the town itself fully appreciated. Many a time she had stood silently and watched their interactions. From heated discussions to childish horseplay, from profound happiness to the lowest lows. In here, in this place of fun, relaxation, and for some, sanctuary, she saw it all.

Tonight her own heart was heavy with the burden these men now carried. She hurt for them and she hurt for herself. Being a woman of the world herself it did not escape her observations that to lose Vin now could very well mean the loss of them all. The sad faces staring into the stew she had kept warm just for their return was testament to a stark truth. Hurt one and they all would feel it.

Part of her motherly instincts had urged her to make sure that there would be some hot food for when the men returned. Through the front window of the saloon she had seen them riding in. Feeling her breath catch at the sight of Vin's riderless horse and the bundle Josiah carried, she had crossed herself as she mouthed a long remembered prayer for the sick. Things had obviously not gone well. Then, without another thought, she had hurried to warm the stew, prepare some broth, and put some fresh bread in to bake before wrapping up warmly and heading to the healer's door to offer the men some dinner and a short respite.

The sight of the pale form on the bed of the healer's room had sent her own stomach plummeting and she had cursed silently. 'Madre de Dios!'

Even now she wondered if her small offering would even help. Though Buck and Josiah had eaten a hefty portion of their own hearty stew, JD and Ezra had eaten only a few bites before beginning to stir about the contents and stare at their still mostly full bowls. And Chris had only managed to stick his spoon in the offering, the utensil never making its way to the grim tight line of his mouth. Glancing at the time she noticed that it would soon be midnight. Christmas Day. While most people would be celebrating friends, family, and the gifts of God, these men sat in sadness and fear of losing just that.

She would watch out for them as best she could, make sure they were fed, encourage them to rest, and pray for God to watch out for the rest of their needs. It was almost amusing to think of these men needing anyone's help.

They were men of true courage and she did what she could to watch after them, whether they thought they needed it or not. Sometimes it was making sure that they had a continuous supply of whiskey when needed and other times it was some hot food when they might be a bit too preoccupied to look after their own needs, which most often occurred when one or more of them were sick or injured. It touched her heart the way these world hardened men looked after each other while still often denying the fact that they cared. It was the subtle things she noticed.

The way Nathan would constantly fuss at them when he thought they needed to rest or the way he would purposefully replace their whiskey with water or a watered down version when one of them was still on the mend. She had provided coffee and broth enough to know that when one of the others were ailing, the group's healer got very little rest, making it his personal mission to not only use his skills to heal, but almost giving them his own strength to ensure their recovery. The ex-slave had no doubt not seen as much of the kindness of humanity in his life as he had the abject cruelty. It amazed her still at the depth of Nathan's compassion in light of what his early days had to have offered as an example. The big man had chosen to use his size, strength, and talent in ways most didn't understand or even try, but with these men and a growing number of the town's folk he was something he hadn't dared even dream possible as a child. He was an equal.

Josiah always seemed to be nearby when one of his brothers was in need of getting something off his chest. Always quick to offer a shoulder or ear for the things that troubled their minds and souls, he was both counselor and sometimes paternal figure. Though his temper was known to at times get the best of him, he also possessed a gentleness that belied his hefty size. The deep rumbling voice could soothe the savage beast, or melt the heart of more than one or two of the town's available and, secretly, unavailable women. Though verbally claiming that God and he had parted ways, he still provided a spiritual presence within the seven that was unmistakable. A sort of lifeline for the souls of the men he rode and fought with.

Being the youngest of the group could sometimes prove tedious for the town's young sheriff, but JD offered so much more than he could know, often soothing sour moods with his youthful exuberance alone. Like a refreshing burst of energy he could raise their spirits even if it was by his sometimes comical naiveté. The other six had seen too much in their lives to always hold out much hope for the goodness of humanity, often seeing more negative than positive. The youngest provided their hope for better things and the chance that maybe, just for once, everything didn't always have to end in misery. JD's life had not been ideal, but even he knew he still had a great deal to learn. While the others provided the young eastern greenhorn with guidance on his road to better understanding what being a man was all about, JD provided them with optimism.

Buck was, well… Buck. He had a love of life that could lift the others when the darkness of the world was trying its best to drag them down. And the big heart he sported drew others to him like bears to honey. He too was fiercely protective of those he saw as his, defending them with an intensity that came from the same heart that sought to provide every female within eyesight with a smile and a word of endearment. He could often be found railing JD about his actions or trying to provide unwarranted advice on anything from gun handling to how to woo the gentler sex. A tall tale was never more than a breath away. It was quite entertaining and, as Inez had observed, distracting, which at times was the ladies' man's true intention. Even Buck could be subtle with his help. Sometimes.

Ezra would likely be the last to admit he gave anything to the others. Spending so much energy trying to remain detached, Inez figured he didn't recognize how much the others depended on him; not only for his cunning ways, but for the way he came through when the chips were down. She had seen it often enough when one of the others were injured, Ezra had stepped in to help take up the slack, though he would deny any such thing and the subtlety of his efforts caused his actions to often go unnoticed by the others. There had even been at least one occasion when certain medical supplies had been in desperate need and they had miraculously been paid for and sent within just a few days, anonymously, of course. Ezra was very careful that nothing tarnished his carefully maintained reputation as a miser.

Even though most people saw Chris Larabee as a cold and dangerous man, Inez had seen a different side to the notorious gunslinger. Behind the pain of a past that would have crippled even the strongest of men and into the heart of what made the man so easy for the other six to follow. He gave them direction even when they bucked against it and used a firm hand to guide them through the difficult times. His very presence demanded respect and attention and the others seemed to complement it, drawing it into one mighty force. But let one of his men be threatened or in danger and there was hell to pay. For all intents and purposes they were his men, his responsibility, and what made his life worth living. Oh, he tried to hide his concern, often growling when one of the others put himself in harm's way or wasn't listening to Nathan's advice. But Inez knew that the grouchier he got, the more he cared.

Then, of course, there was the seventh man. Vin Tanner was a man of many facets. Just when Inez thought she had him pegged he would go and surprise her. And she was pretty sure the others felt much the same way. A fierce fighter and always ready to defend the weak and oppressed, he also possessed a softer, shyer side that could make any girl swoon. She had seen him risk his life many times for the other men he fought with and had little doubt that he would lay down his own life in a minute to save any one of them. Taking most of the patrols and always willing to lend a hand to anyone who needed it, he could also be ruthless and cunning when necessary. He seemed to be concerned with the welfare of everyone except himself. How many times had she been witness to the tracker's protective measures? From prowling the rooftops to watch all of their backs, to scouting the perimeter to make sure no one snuck up on them. Precious to him were these men who had accepted him into their ranks and provided a place of security that, from the haunted look she had seen too often in his soulful blue eyes, was something that had before been elusive to him.

However, the same strengths that drew them together could also prove volatile. It was a known fact that they certainly had their differences. More than once the raised voices and cool threats between them had been enough to send more than a few patrons scurrying for cover as one or more squared off against another. Inez had once heard the saying that you only hurt the ones you love. Well, there were times when she feared these seven men might just love each other straight into an early grave.

The seven were so much more than a group of men who had banded together in the protection of a small, dusty town. They were seven friends, seven brothers. A family built upon trust and respect, with bonds much stronger than any blood ties Inez had ever been privileged to witness.

As the minutes passed and the holy day approached, she continued to pray that its arrival would bring with it a new miracle for these men and this town.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Nathan sat at his desk, his back to his patient, but his mind was consumed by the current state of Vin's declining health. Staring down at the book that had lost his attention to the gut twisting fear he had tried to keep at bay while in the presence of the others, he couldn't suppress a sigh. So grateful for Inez and her intervention, he had thanked God when she had shown up on the clinic doorstep bearing the broth, a single serving of stew, and the insistent invitation that the others come to the saloon for something hot to eat. He had practically thrown the others out. Certainly he had been concerned for the health and well being of the other five men, but he had also needed some time away from their constant presence. Now, alone with his thoughts and weary beyond the physical sense, he could no longer keep the worries hidden. The dark lines on his face and the scowl he now wore gave testament to the fatalistic views that now overwhelmed him and he could no longer fight the telltale moisture that seeped from the corners of his eyes.

This was a ritual that had become all too routine since meeting up with the six men he held in such high regard. And it was the one part he could definitely do without. Sitting for hours praying for the best while thinking the worst could take its toll on a man. The hardest part of growing to care for others was when the threat of losing them became reality. Many a sleepless night he had spent watching over one or the other of them. Even more hours were spent going over his slowly growing collection of medical text, hoping to chance upon the new procedure or discovery that would allow him to once again help a sick or injured brother cheat death.

But what would happen when he couldn't? Why did everyone always expect miracles out of him? He wasn't God! Swallowing the quick wave of anger, the healer stood up, straightening his tired and aching body, his knee joints popping slightly as he did. He wasn't angry at them for looking to him for answers. He was angry because he didn't always have them.

His mind traveled back momentarily to a week when all of his efforts had seemed in vain. One of the local ladies had died in childbirth, the child itself not surviving. And as if that hadn't been hard enough, another soul had succumbed to a terrible cold and fever. As his mind had questioned his own abilities and reasoning for the path he had chosen to follow in life, the preacher had offered some words of wisdom.

"No, brother, you're not God. But you are an instrument of the Lord and like most tools; their effectiveness is in the hands of their master. The Lord uses you to administer to the sick and injured with a remarkable compassion that is lacking in this day and time. Do not discount your value and purpose due to the natural order of life. You can not save them all, my friend, and are not meant to."

Those same words that had offered much needed comfort and solace were, at this very moment, haunting. What if this time he couldn't save Vin? Or wasn't meant to? The thought caused the stew he had forced himself to consume to sour in his stomach. It was going to be another long and grueling night.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The room was quiet except for the sounds of utensils hitting bowls and mugs being set down on the table from time to time. Other than a few mumbles of gratitude to the hostess for the food, very little had been said since the five men had arrived in the saloon and sat down at their usual table in the far back corner. A few fleeting glances at the empty chair that sat beside their leader was all of a reminder they needed of the day's events. It had been nearly an hour since the kind barmaid had knocked on the clinic door with a tray of stew for one and some broth. Inez had insisted that the others come on over to the saloon where she had hot stew and fresh bread fixed up especially for them.

Nathan had insisted that they all needed the food and the rest after the long day they had all had. Assuring them that he would let them know if anything changed, he ushered them out of the tiny clinic, grumbling that they all needed to rest and someone could relieve him come morning. Though all of them had been reluctant to leave, they also needed the respite and the appetizing aroma of the stew made more than a couple of stomachs growl in reminder of the long hard day of riding.

Chris had not seemed to even hear the offer Inez had made. Nathan had told the others to go on, wanting to take another look at the knot on the side of the man's head. It probably wasn't serious, but Chris hadn't quite been himself for most of the day and it was better to err on the side of caution.

There had been no grumbling or protest from the gunslinger, whose brooding demeanor had only added to the darkness that seemed to surround the man like an aura. And once done checking the wound and issuing his instructions for food and rest, Nathan had stood perplexed as Chris had stood, mumbled his thanks, pulled on his black duster, and walked out of the clinic without so much as a glance at the injured man in the bed.

Buck hadn't even been sure Chris would show at the saloon, but the man had stalked into the place without hesitation and sat down in his usual chair. It had been unnerving for them all. Not only had he not said a word, he hadn't even seemed to notice the empty chair to his right that was so painfully obvious to everyone else.

Now each man sat lost in his own thoughts, all of them centered on the injured man they had been reluctant to leave. Each afraid it might be for the last time. But just as hesitant to stay, not ready to fully give in to that same concern.

JD had been trying his best to keep an eye on Buck. With Vin's return to the living he had hoped the burden that weighed so heavily on his best friend would ease, but from the distraught look still hovering in the big man's deep blue eyes, it was obvious that it hadn't. Wracking his brain since his friend's heartfelt confession he still had yet to think of what he should do. JD knew all too well about guilt and how it was up to each individual to work their way through the tumultuous emotions and come to terms with the consequences. Annie's accidental shooting from months ago had been a very maturing incident and one he was likely to draw upon as a major turning point in his life. No matter how good one's intentions, things did not always have an agreeable outcome. He knew that Buck had seen much more of life than he had, but with a big heart like Buck possessed, JD also knew the pain would be equally strong. With a tired glance up at his best friend he said a silent prayer once again for Vin's recovery, knowing that more than one life hung in the balance.

Doing his best to keep his own emotions in check, Buck stared down at his nearly empty bowl. He had been hungry and yet unsure if he could eat with the emotions churning inside him, but the enticing aroma of the stew had drawn his rumbling stomach to the forefront. Now, as his mind kept reliving the ride back to town, the very same meal sat like a rock within him. The feel of the precious bundle that he had borne on part of the ride back was still weighing on him. The feel of the still form resting within his grasp still made his arms ache from much more than the strain. The ticking of the clock that hung over the bar seemed to roar in his ears as each passing minute was a grim reminder of the situation in which his own mind magnified the culpability of his role. His peripheral vision could make out Chris' hunched form over the gunslinger's still full bowl of stew. Feeling his guilt double he thought, 'might as well have stabbed Chris in the gut, would've had the same effect.'

Ezra sat stoically, unable to face the prospect of losing the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. To admit that he cared would mean to open himself up to the pain of loss that was sure to come. It always did. He had heard someone say once that if you want something bad enough you have to work for it. Well, he abhorred anything that had to do with manual labor, so he supposed that was why those things that were important to him always seemed to be taken away. But he would have done anything, even the lowliest of menial jobs, if he thought it would keep Vin with them. Being able to read others was a necessity, a gift. But on this holiest night of the year it was the gambler's curse, for he had seen the look of despair and fear in the eyes and actions of each of his fellow peacekeepers and it only served to intensify his own. This newfound family was falling apart right in front of his eyes. Not one to get involved deeply with the Christmas holiday he suddenly discovered he had never longed for a gift like he did at that moment, but the gift he sought was the life of his friend.

Shepherd that he was, Josiah worried over his entire flock. He knew that each of the seven was weighed down with his own burdens at a time that should have been filled with joy and celebration. Should Vin die he wasn't sure he had enough faith to make it himself, let alone see the others through and it was these doubts that plagued him all the way back to town. Nathan was taking Vin's deteriorating condition personally. JD seemed distracted by something and the preacher could only assume he knew something about what was bothering Buck. If the ladies' man's head hung any lower they would be fishing his face out of his bowl of stew. Ezra was trying to hide his unease, which he should have known by now was pointless among his friends. And Chris, well, that was a given.

Chris was trying hard not to feel anything. God, he wanted a drink so bad he could smell and taste it in the air. But he wasn't about to allow himself the luxury. Not now. For some reason he felt ashamed of the time he had spent trying to forget by racing his way to the bottom of whiskey bottle after whiskey bottle. How could he dare wish to forget the very people who had made his life worthwhile? And yet, wasn't that the very thing he was trying to do now. Forget. Push the feelings he had for Vin and his new family into the back recesses of his mind so he could function. But the more he tried to forget the present the more the past came back to him. Memories of Adam decorating the tree and walks along the river with Sarah. Where had that one come from? He hadn't thought of that in so long. Lazy summer days walking, talking, skinny dipping… A cold shiver ran down his spine. A dream? A river? Sarah?

Josiah's deep baritone voice broke his reverie, along with everyone else's. The big preacher could no longer stand the deep silence or hung heads. He owed it to them to at least distract them for a moment. "Inez, did the town go ahead with the pageant this evening? I know the children were so looking forward to it."

Inez realized immediately Josiah's intentions and was quick to do her part to assist. "Sí, it was muy bueno." She bit her tongue at the next words she had been about to say, knowing they would have not helped. She had been about to mention the special prayer they had held for all of the seven's safe return. Instead she changed directions, feeling it safe to elaborate on the pageant itself.

"The children had such a good time, even if a few didn't quite remember their lines. Little Silas Jenkins tried to drink the myrrh and then the Carter boys stole the baby Jesus out of the manger." She couldn't help but smile at the antics of the town's children. It had been a welcome distraction for everyone in light of the tension from the abrupt departure of the seven peacekeepers. "And that manger you made, muy hermoso. I've never seen anything…"

Seeing Josiah's head drop at her last words, she stopped abruptly, wondering what she had said wrong. Everyone else looked up, too.

"Vin made it."

The quietly spoken admission flooded the room like a cold draft of icy wind. Not wanting the silence to again take over, the preacher swallowed hard and raised his head to face his friends' curious gazes.

"I had been telling him about the pageant and…" A slow grin crossed Josiah's face as his eyes looked off at the far wall, remembering the scene outside the church that cool afternoon. "He got that curious look on his face, you know, when he's not sure about saying anything or not. Then he seemed to make up his mind and just said," he related, mimicking the tracker's speech some. "'Reckon I could help ya out. I picked up some woodworking skills from this feller I used to help out for extra money. Nothin' fancy mind ya, but iffen ya want I could build that manger thing ya's talkin' about.'" Josiah just shook his graying head in wonder. "Probably one of the longest string of words I've heard out of him."

"Guess that's what he wanted all of that stuff for." JD's voice now drew the others' attention and he suddenly felt self-conscious. "I mean, I saw him putting some lumber and stuff in a wagon before he headed out of town last week. Thought maybe he was headed to Nettie's and was just gonna fix some things around her place."

Ezra couldn't help adding what little he knew, as if the pieces of a mysterious puzzle were suddenly fitting together. "I myself observed Mr. Tanner in the hardware store getting nails and some hinges last week. I deduced the same conclusion, though I saw him use his own capital for the acquisition."

"I thought that boy was gonna get him a new pair of gloves last week. His other ones done fell plumb apart on 'em and the dang fool was supposed to be gettin' new ones after payday." Buck's voice held a touch of anger. So that was why Vin hadn't been wearing gloves when they had found him.

"I do believe I also recall said 'dang fool' purchasing some salve for his horse." Ezra added quietly.

"Our brother does love that horse, even when he's threatening to shoot the animal."

They all nodded slowly, except Chris, who listened silently, having yet to even look up.

"Spending his money on that horse, some nails, hinges, and lumber…" Buck started, but Josiah's quiet utterance stopped him mid sentence.

"He didn't buy the lumber." Questioning looks moved him to share the secret generosity that he had discovered. "Vin got it from one of the homesteaders."

"Why, pray tell, would he be receiving such 'offerings' from the homesteaders?" Ezra couldn't quite piece together where this was leading. Just when he thought the mystery had been solved it twisted to once again cause him to wonder.

"Probably because Vin provided them, as well as a number of others, with their Christmas dinners."

As the conversation progressed more about Vin's behavior over the past week, things began to make more sense. Josiah spoke of Vin's time spent with the children, helping them prepare gifts and find decorations. The hunting he had done for the families in need. The man who they all suspected had so little experience with Christmas had somehow felt the spirit of it. Then again, Vin Tanner wasn't a man who gave of himself just one time a year. It was just his nature to give unto others and was a big part of what made Vin the man he was.

Having lived a less than prosperous life maybe Vin had a greater understanding of what it was like to do without things you wanted or even needed. Or maybe he just wanted to make sure others had an easier life than he himself had lived. His mother may have only spent a few years with her son, but somehow they suspected she had made a profound and enduring impact on him that was a part of what had allowed him to keep a heart of kindness toward a world that had seemed determined to show the young tracker its worst.

But even as Vin's activities over the last week came to light, something was still gnawing at the back of Ezra's mind. A stickler for details he knew there was still something he was missing and it was driving him to distraction. Going over the new information he noticed a discrepancy. Hinges? There had been no need for hinges on the manger. Of course, the tracker may have actually used those to fix something at Nettie's or one of the other people he had been known to help on occasion.

His musings, along with the quiet discussion among the others, was interrupted by the sound of someone coming through the batwing doors of the saloon. Instinctively, each of the peacekeeper's hands brushed their guns as they looked up expectantly, only to relax as they recognized one of the local merchants coming through the door, within his grasp a small box and what looked curiously like the bridle that Vin had been working on for over a month.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Mr. Cyrus Mullins was a man of medium stature and graying dark hair. Having been in the town since its early beginnings he had at first been wary of the new law the judge had appointed to protect them, but after a time had come to not only appreciate their presence, but respect the seven men as valued members of the tiny community.

Mullins ran the feed and seed shop down the street and had been one of the benefactors of Vin Tanner's kindness, having received a large turkey to use for his family's Christmas feast. His wife had been sick for the past month and was just now getting back to full strength. Having spent a great deal of time looking after her and the three children that graced his life, he had found little time for the small things that needed taking care of. Not only had Vin provided him and his family with the turkey, but he had also done some minor repairs around the outside of the shop that had been neglected during his wife's illness.

When the young man had come to him with his quiet request Cyrus had been more than eager to assist him with the task, wanting to do something to repay the peacekeeper's goodwill. Now standing before the solemn faces in front of him, and with the knowledge he had gained from Yosemite of what had transpired, he couldn't help the sudden apprehension that had his stomach in knots.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing the bile that was churning, he stepped forward, the last two items he needed to deliver held securely in his shaky grip. He had made a promise and if it was the last thing he did he would honor it. For himself and for the kindhearted young man who had asked it of him and who now fought desperately for his own life. He just hoped, from the current position of each of the six men's hands that this wasn't indeed his last act.

"I brought…" He felt his voice break with nervous energy and cleared it before trying again. "I had some deliveries to make this evening and these are the last two." It took every ounce of nerve he still bore in his body to make his leaden feet move forward to place the two items on the table before their designated recipients. Knowing that an explanation was due he wracked his brain on what to say. It would have been easier if he had stuck to the plan and just left the items outside each man's door, but with all that had taken place something had led him to alter his strategy. In and out. It would have been so much easier. Yet these men needed to know they had been thought of and, more importantly, by whom.

"I made a promise to Mr. Tanner to deliver these presents late this evening and these are the last ones. The others were larger." Swallowing hard he addressed each man. "Mr. Sanchez, there is a nice little bookshelf I put for you just inside the church." Knowing the next young man had earned his status among these men he addressed him with the respect he had earned. "Sheriff, there's a tack box for you that I set just inside your horse's stall. I left Mr. Jackson's cabinet and pouches at the base of the stairs. Didn't want to disturb him right now." Cyrus ducked his head, unsure if he should have even mentioned that bit. "Miss Recillos, there's a nice flower box for you out back. I left Mary's outside her door. And, I was told to get JD to deliver the one for Miz Wells. It's at my store when you're ready for it. These last two were smaller so I just decided to bring them in here."

It was somewhat disconcerting to realize that no one, save Inez and Josiah, were even looking at him and he wondered if he were wasting his breath. Buck and JD's eyes were both riveted on the familiar bridle on the table, while Ezra was slowly fingering the carved wood of the box before him. The group's leader had yet to look up at all, let alone move and it suddenly struck the merchant that he had been given nothing to deliver to the notorious gunslinger. Most of the townsfolk were aware of the easy friendship that had developed between the leader and his second in command. So why hadn't the tracker given him something for the man? 'Maybe Vin was going to deliver it himself,' Cyrus mused.

Neither he nor the other men knew that Vin's present to Chris had already been delivered and received. Nor did they have any idea that the very thought of the younger man's hard work to fix up things around Chris's place was now ripping another hole in the gunslinger's already riddled gut.

"That's Vin's." Somehow JD's statement of the obvious awoke them all from the trance of unspoken misery they were sharing. They had each had occasion to see the tracker working on the bridle. Picking up some leather strips here and a buckle there as the weeks passed.

Ezra now knew what the hinges had been for. Nathan's cabinet, JD's tack box… and his box.

'No, not just a box,' he thought as his fingers ran deftly across the top. The crude outline of five playing cards depicting a full house had been meticulously carved into the soft wood. It was an intricately decorated treasure chest. The treasure wouldn't be what was held inside, but the hard work and friendship that its very presence spoke of to his very heart. He had received gifts before, but never had any of them touched him to his core as this simple little offering. His carefully maintained composure was indeed fighting to hold under the onslaught of emotions now coursing through him.

Buck heard JD's statement but couldn't bring himself to look away from what lay before him. It was obvious who it had belonged to, but now… Carefully reaching out toward the gift he turned it over, his hand jerking back slightly as if it had been burned as he noticed the initials burned into the leather. His initials. The ladies man's voice shook with emotion. "I mentioned something about mine bein' pretty worn just the other week. Didn't think anything about it." Trying to swallow past the lump in his throat he coughed harshly before regaining control.

Inez quickly set a glass of water down in front of him and he managed a very weak smile of thanks to her, not even noticing the light touch of her hand on his back.

"It seems Brother Vin decided to celebrate this Christmas after all." Josiah had spoken with Vin some about the Christmas traditions and their meanings, but had considered it idle curiosity. He had hoped in the back of his mind that they could all spend the holiday together, but knew it was not likely to be. With Chris' demons and Vin's uneasiness it was still too great a hurdle to overcome. Somehow Vin had decided to mix the old with the new by leaving gifts behind even though he would be elsewhere.

"He… He…" JD couldn't get it out. Somehow Vin had made them all gifts. He loved Christmas and everything about it, but knew Vin had expressed his lack of celebrating the holiday. So why had he gone to this much trouble? The obvious answer was humbling. Vin had been told by so many that Christmas was a time for family. Vin had found his family and thus made something for each of them. JD felt himself swell with bittersweet pride to be included.

Cyrus still stood in front of the table, not wanting to leave, but not wanting to stay. He had his own family to get home to and it was late. As was his habit when the thought of the time came up, he slipped out his pocket watch and glanced down. It was five minutes after midnight. It was now Christmas Day.

A thought struck him and it was out of his mouth before he could rethink it. "You gentleman are more than welcome to join my family for Christmas Dinner today. There's more than enough food. That turkey Mr. Tanner brought us is big enough for…" He stopped, realizing the hurt these men must be feeling at the moment and how mentioning their friend's name might add to it. "Well… Just come on by if you feel like it."

Cyrus quickly turned and left before he could add any more to their misery. He had thought that the gifts might help, but from the looks he had seen on the peacekeepers' faces he wasn't sure it had been such a good idea.

In his wake he left a room filled with deathly quiet as each inhabitant was once again lost among thoughts of the man who continued to surprise them.

The sudden scraping sound of chair legs echoed throughout the room and each man flinched as the same chair crashed backwards to the floor. The dark gunslinger was up and headed for the back door before anyone realized what had happened, his swift movements just a dark blur.

Three stunned faces looked to the one man amongst them who might be able to explain the sudden departure. The look on Buck's face proved that he was just as clueless as the rest of them. And even if he had some suspicions, which he did, he was not about to share them at the moment.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Chris Larabee felt as if his insides were about to explode. He had sat there for as long as he could, trying not to listen, trying not to hear, as they spoke of Vin. Every word, every bit of information, the torn gloves, the salve for Peso's legs, the food the tracker had hunted for some of the local families, every tidbit was like a knife slowly driving its way directly into his heart. They didn't need to tell him what Vin was like. He knew, better than most. The man could be starving and would give up his last piece of bread to someone else he thought needed it. There were the times he had watched Vin work beyond exhaustion to ensure their safety and the times he had seen the young man worn down from patrols and watches and whatever else he had found to do, only to turn around and head out to Nettie's to make sure there wasn't something she needed fixed.

Then Mullins had arrived with the presents. That had been the last straw. Since when did Vin even celebrate Christmas? Hadn't he told Chris how he spent most holidays out in the open wilderness on his own and away from the fuss? So why was this year different?

Stupid question. Chris knew exactly what was different for the tracker. The same thing that had been different for him. For the first time in a long time there were other people who mattered. Others to share the holiday with. But unlike Chris, who had sought to get himself as far away from it as possible, Vin had somehow found a balance. Had wanted to embrace some of the things he had been missing for so long, even longer than Chris had. Hell, he wasn't sure Vin had ever celebrated Christmas or at least any he could remember.

All the thoughts swirling in his head had only intensified his headache. Feeling his chest tighten and his control about to break he stood up abruptly, knocking his chair backwards. The large room had suddenly felt more like a closet and he had to get out.

Without so much as a word to any of the others, and not daring to lift his head lest his eyes betray him, he made his way quickly toward the back of the saloon. Stepping outside, the bitter cold nearly stripped the air from his lungs and he stopped to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness. More clouds had rolled in and the sky had the look of snow. Somehow that made him even angrier. It seemed stupid to be angry at the weather because it had been the snow and cold that had nearly taken away his best friend. Might still. The gunslinger's stomach soured even more as that thought sent another wave of panic rushing through him. Stumbling toward the outhouse, what little amount of water he had consumed made an abrupt reappearance until dry heaves wracked his taut frame.

Finally getting his rebellious stomach under control he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and sat heavily onto the freezing wooden seat, the darkness within the tiny structure mirroring the darkness he felt within his soul. Try as he might he couldn't stop his mind from replaying the events of the day like a book, he kept flipping through each step of the search, each pain filled moment. The dreams that had been so vivid and real at the time had now faded, leaving behind only strange mixed feelings. They had been important, that much he knew and somehow he felt they reminded him of Sarah. But not in the way they had before, when his dreams of his lost family had left him only feeling abandoned. With the mere thought of the dreams came a sense of peace he couldn't quite explain and yet an even deeper sense of fear for Vin.

The sight of the tracker's pale, lifeless body popped into his head and his chest seemed to tighten, his breath coming in sharp, painful gasps. Sitting in the confines of the outhouse, away from the prying eyes and needs of the world around him, he allowed himself to feel all of the emotions he had done his best to keep bottled up for over a week.

'Help!' His mind cried out. He couldn't stand it. His faith in a God who had allowed his wife and son to be so brutally taken wasn't something he was ready to reconcile. Instead, he spoke to someone he hadn't spoken to in over three years.

"Sarah. Oh God, Sarah. I miss you so bad." Head bowed and shoulders nearly collapsing in upon themselves, the tears flowed freely from Chris' eyes. "I'm so sorry, sweet woman. I should have been there for you. For Adam. I let you down. You depended on me to protect you, look after you… I just don't understand. All my fault. Look at what happens to those I care for. You and Adam. And,…"

'Vin?!'

"I can't lose him, too." The pain in his chest only intensified as he gave in to the fears he had tried to deny. "He means a lot to me. I don't know where I'd be without him. Dead, probably. Used to think that was where I wanted to be, but he showed me that that wasn't true. He showed me…" Chris stopped, not wanting to say it, but the words seemed to form in his head without his permission.

'He showed you that life was still worth living.'

The words had been in his head, but he didn't feel like they had been his alone. And suddenly, he didn't feel so alone either.

"Please help me." Chris wasn't sure who he was directing the last plea to, but it was all he could think about. "Please don't let him die."

Dark clad shoulders shook with grief, both old and new, as the gunslinger gave in to the anguish, gut-wrenching sobs resounding within the small enclosure as he cried his heart out.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Outside the back of the saloon another heart was breaking. Buck Wilmington had decided to seek out his oldest friend. The man had, after all, been injured earlier and he just needed to make sure that everything was alright. Or at least halfway okay. He wasn't sure if anything would be alright again. For a time, the heavy burden he had carried for the sake of a friend, whose world had been shattered one dark night, had been lightened. And it had been with the help of one scruffy Texan that things had seemed to be getting back on track, but now… His worst fear of Chris returning to the hell he had been living in before was becoming all too much a possibility.

Feeling as totally helpless as the others when it came to Vin right now, he figured the least he could do was once again look after Chris. But as he had come out of the back door of the saloon into the cold dark night, the sound that greeted him chilled his blood. He had never heard Chris like this. The pain and emotion in the gunslinger's voice caused Buck to nearly stagger with the sheer grief he could feel radiating from it. Realizing that the disembodied voice was coming from the outhouse he stopped, knowing that Chris had not intended on having an audience. Hearing his old friend calling to his dead wife brought tears to his own eyes and it was all he could do to stifle a sob as he put his hand over his mouth.

He should have turned around and went back inside, but he couldn't. His feet felt frozen to the ground and at the same time his knees felt too weak to carry him. The softhearted ladies man wasn't sure he would have any heart left when all was said and done.

"Please help me." Buck froze, wondering for a moment if Chris might be talking to him, but the next words assured him to the negative. "Please don't let him die."

And as if his heart hadn't already been torn into shreds, the next sound ripped it completely from his chest. Not in all of the years that he had known Chris Larabee, not in the war when the atrocities and loss of life had affected them both, not when the blond had received dire news from home, and not even when the man had knelt at the graveside of the two people who had given him a life of pure joy, at none of these times had Buck been witness to what he was at this moment. Oh, he had seen the man with silent tears in his eyes, seen the anguish so deep and evident in the moist green eyes, but never had he heard the man sobbing like his very soul was being rent from his body. And he wished to God that he never had. Getting his legs back in control he ran away for the second time that day, knowing full well that no matter where he went that sound would follow him.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Chris staggered out of the outhouse, his shirt dotted with moisture from his emotional release. He couldn't believe he had done that and yet, strangely, he felt better for it. Tears that had been held at bay for years had finally been freed, allowing him to do a small bit of what he had denied himself as a sort of punishment. He had finally allowed himself to grieve for what had been lost to him. Though he knew it wouldn't put an end to the sorrow or relieve his guilty conscience, it did almost seem to free up some space within him. Space that could now be used for other things. Things like what had been the catalyst behind the tears he had shed. Vin and his current state.

Breathing deeply of the cold, cutting winter air, he tried to clear his head. He couldn't give up on Vin, because Vin would never give up on him. He knew that with certainty. But still, he felt weak and unsure. He pulled his long black duster tighter around himself as he turned to head back toward Nathan's, when something out of the corner of his eye caused him to turn abruptly. It was almost as if someone had been standing there, but there was no one. That had happened a lot over the last couple of days. The strange wisps of smoke when there had been no fire, the feeling that someone was near him when he was obviously alone, and Peso looking for all intents and purposes like someone had tied him there when the horse's own tracks were the only ones visible. He had seen that little bit but said nothing.

A chill ran down his spine and he shivered reflexively. Again, something else caught his eye and he looked up at the sky to see a bright star almost winking at him.

Christmas. It was Christmas Day.

Ducking his head, an old memory surfaced with great clarity. Chris remembered always taking Adam out on Christmas Eve to look for the brightest star in the sky and then they would go back inside to the fire where Sarah would read the Christmas story and tell of Jesus's birth as she read from the Bible. The memory stirred something within his heart and he looked back up to see only clouds. The star was gone or maybe he had imagined it. The outline of the back of the church near the end of the street came into view just below where the star had supposedly been. Strange. Well, at this point nothing should have surprised him.

Without his permission his feet seemed to propel him of their own accord and the next thing he knew he was standing at the back steps of the holy sanctuary, where his iron will regained control and he hesitated. He had basically turned his back on God and faith in anything when he had lost his family. Slowly he had felt it returning over the past few months as he stayed in this town, with these men, and with Vin. Just being around the younger man had given him reason to believe in something again, though he still wasn't sure what that something was. He had given up on God, but something was telling him that just like his friends, God hadn't given up on him.

Heavy steps took him into the back door of the church and directly to the front altar that was dimly lit by a few candles. He wondered about that momentarily, but quickly dismissed his suspicions. It was, after all, Christmas and Josiah had probably been by already. Moving to stand just in front of the pulpit, he found himself directly in front of the manger where the Christmas pageant had been held, the smell of hay still fresh in the air. His mind conjured up the gentle hum of Christmas carols he remembered hearing in years gone by. While the town had continued with the celebrations, none of the peacekeepers had really thought much about the holiday since riding out of town in search of Vin.

Vin. The gunslinger's eyes were riveted upon the manager itself, knowing now that the tracker had made it himself, along with quite a few other things, it seemed. Vin had been busy. "No wonder I haven't seen much of him lately. Dam… uh…" Remembering where he was he quickly amended his language. "Durn fool was probably up every night, finishing all of his little presents." Chris just shook his head in wonder as his mood darkened a bit.

Reaching out with a barely steady hand he caressed the crafted object, as if it alone would give him the answers he sought.

The rough wood was solid, the manger obviously built with care, by someone who cared. Vin cared. Most saw him as mysterious and aloof, but that was how the younger man wanted it. Scarred internally by too many rejections and too much loss Chris knew the tracker had learned early the value of keeping people at a distance. Until now. Just like Chris, Vin had opened himself up more than he likely ever had before. To the town, the other men. But why? What had been different? Trust. Vin trusted them; he trusted Chris and he had from the start.

Chris swallowed hard at that. It was a momentous honor that he had never really considered before. From a man who had been taught the hard lesson to trust no one, an instant trust had been granted to one man, Chris Larabee. And how had the gunslinger repaid him? By trying his best to deny he gave a damn. Shame washed through him at his own callousness. Vin deserved better.

'And so do you, me love.'

The last thought echoed through his head, causing his heart to beat faster. It was just like something Sarah would have said to him. In fact she would have kicked his backside for the way he had been acting. How many times had she told him how important friends and family were? Here, in front of God, he couldn't deny the truth that Vin was amongst those. But not just as a friend. He was family. He was Chris's brother, bonded by something greater than blood. These two men were bonded by the heart.

'You do whatever it takes for family.' His own father had told him that when he was just a boy.

But what could he do for Vin now? Nathan himself could do no more. He had said so. It was out of his hands. It was up to Vin. The healer's last words sprung to mind. 'Wait for 'em to wake up, and… pray.'

His eyes traveled to the large wooden cross that Josiah had made and put up on the wall behind the pulpit. There was something he could do. Something that, on today of all days, he should have been reminded of before. Little words had been sent up by his mind, but not by his heart. He hadn't really put his heart into much of anything in a long time.

"Guess I know what needs to be done, just been too afraid the answer would be no, I guess. It's been awhile. Guess I'm a bit out of practice and not sure why you would even listen to me. Always thought Sarah had enough faith for the both of us."

The lump that had been growing within his throat constricted, causing his voice to falter and his eyes pooled with moisture. Dropping to his knees, he turned his eyes to the ceiling but looked beyond it with his heart. Then he did something he hadn't really done in over three years. He prayed.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Buck was beginning to believe his penance was going to be more than he could stand. After witnessing the sound of his oldest friend's heart breaking he had sought refuge in the only place he thought he would be safe. He needed to get his head together. Think about what he was going to do if Vin didn't make it or even if he did. Leaving was a big possibility, but that thought only caused him more pain. He hadn't been one to settle down in any one place for very long, in fact none of the seven had been, until now. The thought of leaving all of it behind, his new friends, his old, the sense of family that he had come to value, it all seemed so depressing. His intentions had been noble, or at least mostly.

All he had really wanted was to protect his oldest friend's need for solitude and make sure others respected the gunslinger's grief. Okay, maybe it had seemed more like wallowing than grieving, but didn't he have a right? Still feeling his own guilt for Sarah and Adam's deaths almost as keenly as Chris himself, Buck had done the only thing he thought he could do, protect the one piece of them he had left. Had that been so wrong? Maybe a few years back or even a year ago, it might not have been, but the ladies' man was still coming to terms with the fact that this wasn't then and things were different now. Chris wasn't the same man he had been before their deaths, but he also wasn't the same man he had been just a year ago. And a big part of the reason why was Vin Tanner.

Somehow Vin had found the key to unlocking the qualities in Chris that made him seem more human and more able to live among other people. Small glimpses of the man Buck had known before were returning, slowly but surely. And he was thankful for the opportunity to get to know his old friend all over again. Different in many ways, but still a damn fine man to have in your corner. Even the wicked sense of humor was resurfacing. It was good to have Chris back.

What if all of that progress had been for nothing? What if another Buck Wilmington mistake… Another time when he spoke before really thinking…

His thoughts were interrupted by the dark angel that strode into his line of sight. Buck had only thought he would be safe here. Chris Larabee had just entered the church from the door at the side of the altar. With his heart hammering in his chest and his tongue desperately seeking moisture in his suddenly dry mouth, Buck froze, almost afraid to breathe lest his presence on the back pew be detected. Any movement would alert Chris to his presence and he didn't want that. He just wasn't ready to face the wrath he felt he deserved. So instead he sat, too afraid to leave and just as afraid of what would happen if he stayed.

Maybe if he shut his eyes tight he could believe he was somewhere else, anywhere else. 'Please, just don't let him start crying again.' Lord, Buck didn't think he would ever get that sound out of his head. It struck him as odd that right after the death of Sarah and Adam, the big man would have been thankful to hear such an outpouring from his old friend. Back then was when the hardening had begun. At first Buck had wondered at the stone cold mask that had replaced the face of the friend he had known before. Wondered why Chris hadn't cried when he himself had wept like a baby. But as the days passed and the new Larabee emerged he figured that all of the fiery hate, guilt, and anger the dark clad man carried with him like a shroud must have burned every bit of moisture from his body, making it impossible for the man to cry.

Buck's body was beginning to ache from the slumped and rigid position he didn't dare move from, when he heard Chris speaking. It was more like mumbling under his breath to start with, but as Buck dared to move his head up just enough to see what was happening, he instantly regretted it as he saw the blond reach out with a less than steady hand to touch the manger. It was the gentle side of Larabee that he hadn't seen in a long time. The old friend he had watched calm a skittish colt with his soft voice and light touches. The same man he had watched smile as he danced with the beautiful woman who would later agree to be his wife, who had held his newborn son in his arms with the light glistening in his darkened green eyes from unshed tears, and who had rocked the same boy within his arms when the child had awakened from a nightmare. Just the way Chris seemed to caress the wooden creation was a total contradiction to his dark and dangerous gunslinger reputation.

Buck felt like he was trespassing on a sacred moment, just like when he had overheard Chris crying. He was certain the man was unaware of his presence and would be none too happy to have such moments witnessed. But what could he do? There was no chance of him getting out undetected, so still he sat, his own guilt and anguish only intensifying as he listened and watched as Chris went to his knees.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

It felt as if he were floating on a cloud or out on a calm clear lake. So peaceful and soothing. He couldn't remember a time when he had felt so relaxed. Vin had come to live on constant alert. Never completely letting down his guard. For a man worth five hundred dollars, dead or alive, it was a luxury he could not afford. Though it had been easier over the last few months as he had come to trust the other six peacekeepers to watch his back more and more, he had still never completely just let go for any extended period of time. For along with the contentment of having men willing to risk their lives to protect him came a worry for these same men's safety, should that very need arise. Risking his life was second nature to the seasoned young man, but allowing others to risk theirs on his behalf took a lot of getting used to.

Now, as he floated in the misty grayness that was his world, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening. The peacefulness of the previous moment was shattered with a new fear. How could he feel this content, this safe? And where was he? Why couldn't he feel his body and why couldn't he see? The questions bombarded him, heightening his distress.

A gentle brush of warm air seemed to caress his cheek and he sensed a presence nearby. His composure was partly restored as a familiar voice drifted out of the mist.

'Don'tcha fret none, me boy. Everything tis all right.'

'Lizbeth?'

'Aye, Vin. I'm right 'ere. There's nothing to be afraid of.'

'I can't see. Where are you?'

'I'm right by your side. But I can't stay and neither can you.' Lizbeth knew that time was running out. 'Life is all about making choices. To go left or right? To move forward or step back? To stay or to go?'

Vin didn't understand what she was saying. Go where? Stay in Four Corners? He didn't want to leave. Not really, but…

'You're a fighter, Vin Tanner. Many times you have fought for your very survival. Fought for what's right and for those too weak to fight for themselves. Well, now, me boy, you're gonna have to fight for what you want. And it isn't just your life hanging in the balance. It won't be easy, but remember that the others are waiting for you. They need you, Vin. Chris needs you. And you need him.'

It nagged at Vin's mind that she had used his full name. He didn't remember letting his last name slip, but then again it didn't seem all that important at the moment. The grey mist was parting and a bright light began to shine through, filling the space around him with a deep warm glow. A feeling of peace washed over him like nothing he had ever felt before.

Lizbeth felt the change. Her strategy wasn't working. All of her efforts were to be for naught. What more could she do? Ultimately it was Vin's decision and what right did she have to interfere. Yet, as her thoughts turned to the reason why she had done all of it, she knew she couldn't give up. There had to be some way to make him fight. In her being she knew it wasn't his time, but if she didn't think of something fast it would be too late. The answer came to her so vividly that she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. Letting her own stubborn will pour through her she tried one last thing.

'Your friends are in trouble, Vin. They need you. How can you just leave them like this?'

The tone of her voice had changed. She sounded anxious and angry. Why was someone always yelling at him when he was hurt? Then, as her words penetrated his mind, he felt the panic rise within. Trouble? The others were in trouble?!

'Chris needs your help,Vin! You have to help him!' It wasn't a lie and the tremor and fear in her voice weren't just for effect.

Vin felt her alarm as it seemed to wash over him. Chris and the others needed him. They were in trouble. He had to watch their backs. His chest swelled with a nearly crushing intensity as his mind began to ready itself for battle. The glowing light receded as a cold darkness took its place. The fight had come to him.

'Good luck, me boy. Take care of me heart for me.'

The last of her words faded away to nothing as a fiery heat flooded his body, bringing with it excruciating pain. All recent thoughts and memories were swept away from his mind, leaving behind only fleeting feelings and images of what had happened. A reality of pain, heat, and fear replaced his world of serenity. He couldn't breathe and each attempt to do so felt like a huge fist was squeezing his upper body. Pushing at the heaviness that lay upon his chest and trying to sit up, he felt hands upon his shoulders, pinning him down.

His reactions were pure raw instinct. Lashing out quickly with his fist he landed a weakened yet still substantial blow against the enemy. Even though he was fairly certain his eyes were open, all he could make out were dim lights and shadows. A loud rumbling of noise above him only heightened his anxiety and he began to struggle even more. It might have been a voice, but at the moment nothing mattered but getting up to help his friends and he would fight the devil himself, if necessary.

Despite the multitude of pain his movements caused him he wouldn't give in. He couldn't. His friends were depending on him. He had to find Chris. Something was very wrong and though his confused mind couldn't quite latch on to what it was, he knew without a doubt that his best friend needed him. Fighting with every ounce of Tanner stubbornness within his body and screaming every curse he knew, in every language he knew, he continued to try to dislodge his attacker.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Curses and yells resounded throughout the formerly quiet little room. One minute Nathan had been sitting at his desk, the only sound in his clinic was the rough breathing of his patient, the only outward sign that the man still lived, and the occasional turning of a page as he continued to study one of his medical text books. The next he was struggling with what felt like a wild animal, while trying to recover from a stiff uppercut to his jaw that had stunned him momentarily, mostly due to the fact it had come from his patient.

"Vin, just calm down. You're safe. It's me, Nathan. Just calm down now." Despite his constant litany, nothing seemed to be getting through to the fevered man. After hearing a sharp intake of air from his patient just seconds before, the healer had turned to find his formerly comatose patient attempting to throw off the blankets that covered him. The beads of sweat on the pale forehead were the first sign that Vin's fever had worsened, but as the healer had approached the bed and two confused blue eyes stared up at him he was certain that the prayer for his friend to awaken had been answered, only to now be shadowed as a new serious threat to Vin's health became evident.

Fearing the stubborn man's next actions might be to get up, and still unsure of the seriousness of injuries that might prove yet to be uncovered, he had firmly placed his hands upon the tracker's shoulders, keeping up a continuous flow of words to soothe and assure the young man that he was safe and among friends. That had been his first mistake.

The panic that flowed into Vin's blue eyes were the first warning that things were about to escalate, but Vin was injured and weak. If nothing else the man would struggle a bit before passing out again. Nathan had little doubt that he could protect his friend from doing himself more harm, while working to calm his agitated state. That had been his second mistake.

Now as Nathan struggled to keep Vin from injuring himself further and wondering where on earth the injured man had found the incredible reserve of strength he now seemed to possess, he couldn't help but wish with all of his might that he had allowed one of the other men to stay. He needed help. All of his efforts to calm the tracker were fruitless and he wasn't sure who could hold out longer at the moment. What he did know was that in Vin's fevered, delusional state, he had to get the young man calmed down and cooled down or things could go from worse to disastrous fast.

'Damnit, where are those hovering, pain in the ass gunslingers when you need them.' If anyone could help him right now it would be…

The door to the clinic slammed open as JD rushed in, guns drawn. He had heard all of the yelling and thought someone was being attacked in the clinic. Seeing Nathan struggling with a now seemingly wide awake Vin, he felt a huge sense of relief. That relief was quickly cut short when Nathan glared at him and yelled.

"Find Chris and get his ass here now!"

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Chris sent up his feeble prayer silently, to a God he had come to realize he still believed in. There had to have been a higher power at work the day he met Vin. And most definitely during their search for him, as they really could have looked for months and never found him. And even though the bad things in life often made most people question it, something else Sarah had always told him rang true in his mind as he knelt at the altar.

'God doesn't like the evil in the world anymore than we do, love. But it's when people turn their backs on him that they lose their best chance at defeating it and the evil wins.'

Sarah's faith had been strong and she had lifted him up with it. One of her most treasured possessions had been the old bible that her mother had given to her before she passed away. Though his beloved wife had been familiar herself with the dangerousness of the west, she had drawn on her beliefs to see her through every trial that came her way. Chris had always marveled at her strength of spirit. And it had been that strength he had missed to see him through when her and Adam's deaths had devastated his world.

Now he had come to realize that her strength and beliefs still lived within him and to deny them would be denying her and everything she had held dear. And he had betrayed her and their memories enough already.

He was still afraid. Of that he was certain. Afraid of losing Vin and afraid of hanging on, but he would be damned if he would give in this time without a fight.

The tingling in his legs alerted him to the fact that he had been in a kneeling position for a bit too long. He wasn't getting any younger and hanging around this group of trouble magnets was aging him fast. As he began to slowly stand, he felt the room tilt and found himself flat on his back the next minute, a worried mustached face hovering above him.

Buck had every intention of not moving until Chris was well away, but his old friend's sudden re-acquaintance with the chapel floor changed his mind quickly. He was off of his seat on the back pew and down the aisle before he could rethink his actions. By the time he knelt down beside Chris, the gunslinger was blinking up at him with a slightly confused expression on his face.

"Just take it easy, old buddy. Think you might've passed out there for a minute." Buck was quick to place his hand lightly upon Chris's chest to forestall any sudden movements and keep the man from just getting right back up and ultimately repeating the process.

Chris wasn't sure how he had ended up on the floor until Buck spoke. 'Passed out? Don't be ridiculous.' Then again, his head was pounding and there was definitely nothing in his stomach at the moment. What would it hurt to just lie here for an extra minute?

Staring back up at Buck's worried face he looked at it more closely. Truth be told, he had been a bit preoccupied for the last day and hadn't really paid attention to the toll all of this was having on the others. Buck looked as tired and haggard as he felt at the moment. Wanting to lighten the moment he decided to joke about it.

"You're not looking too good yourself there, Buck. Maybe you should join me down here before you fall down."

Instead of the mischievous twinkle he had expected in the deep blue eyes, he watched as the worry in them deepened and Buck averted his gaze. Something was going on. The ladies' man was hiding something.

Fear spiked his temper and he sat up on his elbows, still careful to take it slow, and stared at the side of his oldest friend's face. They hadn't ridden together that long without learning how to read one another pretty well.

"What's going on, Buck?"

Looking up quickly, Buck tried to hide his emotions behind a very weak smile, but his denial was cut short before ever even leaving his lips.

"And don't say 'nothing', because you've looked like someone shot your dog all day." Thinking back, Chris realized how true that statement was. Sure Buck, the same as the rest, had been worried about Vin and still was, but there was something more. It was almost like he'd been hiding. Come to think of it. Where had he come from so quickly? Chris' face clouded as his mind came upon the answer and he couldn't hide the anger in his voice.

"How long have you been here?"

Buck felt like a bear caught in a trap, with a hunter breathing down on him, rifle sighted and ready. Standing up he still couldn't quite meet Chris' gaze. It was now or never. There would never be a good time and his guilt had been eating away at him for too long already.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't mean to overhear. I just didn't want to disturb you and I couldn't slip out without disturbing you. And… Oh God, this is all my fault. You have every right to hate me. I was only trying to look out for you, but…"

The overflow of emotion and words was not quite what Chris had been expecting. Buck had gone from worried friend to babbling idiot in seconds and as he slowly sat up he tried to calm the ladies' man.

"Slow down. You're not making any sense."

Buck knew he had to get this out before his heart exploded, but he did stop long enough to take a deep breath and compose himself. He had rehearsed how he wanted to do this in his head a multitude of times, but now that the moment was here it came out blunt and awkward.

"It's all my fault. I asked Vin to leave you alone and now he's dying."

It took a few minutes for Chris' brain to catch up with Buck's meaning. And his gut reaction spoke first. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I know. I shouldn't be messing in your business, but I know how ya get around the holidays and the last thing I wanted to have to do was break up a fight between you and that boy. God, Chris. If I'da had any idea… You know I'd never let anything happen to Vin if I could prevent it. I had no idea…" Buck was fumbling for what to say, not sure if he should try and explain or just ride out now. The Larabee glare was lethal enough, but right now he was feeling it full force.

Chris couldn't believe Buck's audacity. Hadn't he told the man in no uncertain terms that he was to mind his own business? The anger that was suddenly flowing through him caused him to forget his body's previous weakness and he stood to face the man he was just about ready to throttle.

"How dare you! You had no right…" The icy words he was about to say died on his lips as he stared at the pitiful creature before him.

Chris took a second to reflect on the situation. Why had Buck interfered? Why did the man ever interfere? Because he thought he was helping. Buck's big heart, among other things, had a tendency to get in the way of his good sense on occasion. Being angry at Buck for wanting to protect him and Vin from a potentially volatile situation was not only stupid, it was selfish. Buck was blaming himself for what had happened to Vin and Chris had been more than ready to agree. But that wasn't right and it wasn't fair. Chris needed someone to blame, besides himself, and had seized an easy out. But the sad blue eyes before him were reminiscent of another pair that would have railed his ass for such an action. Vin would never blame Buck. Of this he was certain. So why should he?

Buck looked at Chris quizzically. As the tirade ended mid-stride and the Larabee glare softened, he readied himself to catch the gunslinger when he fell, thinking that surely Chris was about to once again succumb to his body's weakness. Why else would the man have stopped yelling and started looking at him so strangely?

"It's okay, Buck."

Confused blue eyes met sincere green ones. What was going on?

Chris nearly laughed at the look of utter bewilderment on his friend's face. Then it saddened him. Buck had not only expected to be yelled at for his actions, he had probably expected even worse. It would be a new priority of Chris's to make sure that his oldest friend knew just where he stood with him, that he wouldn't be thrown out just because he did something to anger a temperamental old gunslinger. Things might be different now than they had been once, their friendship had changed through the trials and hardship, but it had also matured. Through it all, it was the one thing he had always known in the back of his mind that he could count on. Buck had always been a good friend to him and still was. It was about time one Chris Larabee returned the favor. Holding out his hand he waited patiently, never taking his eyes away from Buck's until the ladies' man's hand tentatively reached out and took it.

"I know you were only trying to help. And I appreciate it." Then tightening his grip and hardening his expression slightly he added, "Just put a bit more thought into your efforts next time." Wanting to take a bit of the sting out of his last warning he let the corners of his mouth turn up slightly as he continued. "You know it's a pretty good bet that it would have been my ass you were scraping up off of the floor if I'd've decided to tangle with that wildcat of a tracker."

Buck felt himself smiling back, awed and humbled by the ease at which his burden had just been lifted.

Any further reflection or comment was cut short as a whirlwind came through the church's front doors.

"Thank God! I've been looking all over town." JD was out of breath and the look on his face caused both men's hearts to stop. "Nathan needs you at the clinic now!"

JD barely got out the words 'Nathan needs' before he felt the tails of Chris's long duster slap his legs as the gunslinger flew by him and out of the church with Buck hot on his heels.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Chris could feel his heart racing from a lot more than exertion as he cleared the top of the steps and ran across the landing toward the door to the clinic. Not sure of what he would find behind it, and unsure if he even wanted to know, he pressed on, knowing he wasn't alone in his quest. Buck and JD were both behind him by a few paces, but his only concern was what lay in the room before him.

His hand grabbed the doorknob with a vise like grip, twisting it with more force than necessary. The door swung open awkwardly, just in time for him to bear witness as Nathan dodged a weak left cross from the pale man who no longer lay motionless in the bed.

"What the hell?"

Nathan's head snapped up and tired dark eyes flooded with relief. "Thank the good Lord! Get over here and get this fool calmed down before he hurts his self."

Chris crossed the small room in three long strides and immediately took over the job of wrestling with his best friend. Despite his weakening state, the ill man had a lot more strength than he had expected. "Vin? You've got to calm down. Stop fighting me."

"He ain't got the strength to waste on fighting us right now." Nathan huffed in frustration as he went to his desk for some water and medicinal tea. "His fever's up and he's not in his right mind."

Vin's right hand slipped from Chris's grasp and even at less than half strength the shot to the nose had the blond blinking back the stars and tears that suddenly clouded his vision. Quickly recapturing the errant hand around the wrist as lightly as he dared so as not to lose track of it again, he continued his attempt to get through to the delusional young man.

"Stop it, Vin. You're going to hurt yourself." This was like wrestling with a wildcat and Chris made a mental note not to find himself tangling with the tracker when the younger man was at full strength. The hot dry skin he felt beneath his palms did little to assuage his fears as he continued to try and get through to his friend. "It's me, Chris. You're safe now. Come on, cowboy, just calm down."

Somewhere in the muggy swamp that was Vin's mind at the moment, the gunslinger's last few words penetrated. The familiar voice finally found an audience and the struggles began to abate.

Breathing out a heavy sigh of relief, Chris continued trying to assure the confused man. "That's it, cowboy. Just take it easy and lay back down."

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

He was here. Even if Vin couldn't quite see him, he could hear and feel him near.

"Chrrriiiisss…?" The quiet rasp slurred from parched lips, but was quickly interrupted by weak coughs.

Nathan was immediately at the other side of the bed with a cup of water. "We gots ta get him to drink. His fever's up. We have to keep water in him and get 'em cooled down."

Nathan was assessing all of the new problems. He knew that trying to question the tracker about further injuries would be futile in the tracker's current state, but he could treat the fever and lack of fluids. The hot dry skin and the confused state did not bode well and unless they could get the fever down, the end complications… No, Nathan wouldn't even allow his thoughts to travel that path at the moment. All of that could wait until they got Vin over this next obstacle. And they would get him through it. They had to.

Lifting the now nearly limp tracker's head up slightly, the two men managed to get nearly half the cup of water into the ill man before a weak hand pushed it away.

"Chrriiss." The voice was not much stronger, but a touch clearer. The tone, deep and raw with his throat's lack of use, seemed desperate. Chris felt that same sense of urgency. It was fueled by a need to make things right before it was too late. But now was not the time for either of them.

"Shhhh, Vin. Just relax."

Vin began mumbling incoherently and Chris wasn't even sure if what the tracker was saying was in English. The young man was known to revert to one or more of the Indian dialects he had picked up along the way when sick and fevered or just plain mad. The gunslinger even thought he detected a bit of Spanish in there somewhere.

Why couldn't he see Chris's face, everything was so cloudy. There were shapes and a dim light, but nothing he could definitely make out. No matter how hard he blinked it didn't clear and his arms were far too heavy for him to have any hope of lifting his hands to rub at the nearly useless eyes. It struck him slightly that he should be terrified, but even that emotion was being pushed aside by an almost urgent need that his less than cognizant mind couldn't quite sort out. Something wouldn't leave him alone to rest. What did he need to do? Why did he feel like there were important things that he was forgetting? Things he needed to do. But he couldn't quite…

Fighting had taken so much out of him and he felt a combination of sensations that were overwhelming. The pain intensified as his head felt like it was caught between two opposing forces. It was almost as if someone were trying to squeeze it off. At the same time he felt his stomach roll and twinge as the meager amount of water he had drank seemed to be at war with his insides. Unfortunately a swift retreat had been called for and Vin found himself coughing and gagging as the liquid burned its way back up his throat.

Nathan had been prepared for such and with deft movements had his patient up and hunched over the basin he had retrieved from the bedside table, all the while praying that his actions would not do Vin further harm.

A cry of pain rallied from deep within the tracker's throat as the new movements sent torrents of pain shooting through his battered body. The heat of the agony racing through him was like a wildfire, draining the last of his strength and sending him back into the dark void of nothingness.

Feeling his patient go limp, the healer's large hand quickly moved under Vin's shirt to the chest, the feel of the heart racing beneath wrenching a sigh of relief from him that could be felt throughout the room.

"He's just passed out. Sure wish I could have gotten some tea into him though." Thinking on the long fight ahead Nathan again wondered if it was a battle he was meant to win. His morbid thoughts drew down his defenses as his own tired body gave in to his fears. There were times he wished to be blissfully ignorant to the ways of illness and medicine. Watching his friend in this fight for his very life was one of them.

Unsure of where they stood at the moment Chris glanced up at the man they all sought out for reassurance at times such as these and caught the healer unaware. The look of despair found within the dark brown eyes chilled the gunslinger's blood and gave rise to a sudden surge of anger. How dare Nathan give up on Vin!

But as quickly as it appeared, the anger was replaced with shame. Had he not been guilty of the very same thing? These men looked to him for leadership; a burden he often felt was more than he could bear. And it struck him that the same must be true for their resident healer. This man that they all turned to, expecting him to heal all wounds and cure all ailments. Noticing the darkened area under the dark skinned healer's eyes and the scattering of redness nearly obscuring the whites, Chris realized he was letting everyone down. This wasn't just about Vin or him; this was affecting them all, one way or another. It was time for him to take charge once again.

"Thanks, Nathan."

The quiet spoken words brought the healer's head up quickly and the sincerity in the green eyes of his leader had him questioning his own consciousness. Afraid that maybe he had somehow given Chris false hope or led him to believe that everything was okay just because Vin had awakened momentarily, Nathan scrambled to try and clarify the situation.

"He's not…"

Chris never let him finish. "I know he's not out of the woods yet, but I just wanted to thank you for all you've done. I know it's not easy. We put a lot on your shoulders." Not sure what else to say he decided to take the opportunity to regain the yoke of leadership. "Go on and get some rest. You can use my room."

"Not with…"

With a half smile Chris cocked his head and decided to turn the tables a little. "You're Vin's best chance, but if you get taken down by exhaustion, then where will we be?" Sensing the healer's continuing misgivings, he continued. "I could use a bit of rest myself so I'm gonna lay here on the cot for a bit while Buck looks after Vin. I think we can handle things here for a few hours."

Chris let his eyes travel up to where his old friend still stood with JD by the door, both looking almost afraid to breathe. Their eyes met and Buck knew what was being offered. A warmth spread through him at the thought that his confessed transgression had been cast aside like nothing and he was being given an opportunity to not only help Vin, but Chris as well.

"And I think we know the routine by now." The next part was spouted out as if in he were in school repeating the teacher's instructions. "Keep trying to cool him down, make sure he doesn't move around too much, force tea and water in him when he's awake, and come and get you if anything changes."

Nathan felt his own mouth pull into a tight grin at the familiar words. He really was exhausted and he realized Chris was right, as his own arguments came back to him. He needed to rest some so he could come back to this fight refreshed and ready. Maybe there wasn't a lot he could do, but by God, he'd put his all into what little there was. With a simple nod he stood and reached for his coat. Only stopping once to glance back unsurely, a slight push by the ladies' man toward the door had him moving, the big man's voice fading as he stepped into the bitter cold darkness.

"Don't you worry none, Nate." Buck's big voiced boomed. "We'll take good care of the boy here."

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

"JD, why don't you go tell Josiah and Ezra what's going on and then all of you go and get some rest. It's been a long day."

JD wanted to protest, to help, but even he had sensed the change in Buck. The haunted look that had hovered in his best friend's eyes had lifted. He wasn't sure what had happened, but as long as things seemed better, not only for Buck, but for Chris too, he didn't see any sense in arguing the point. Besides, he really was tired and wanted to be ready to help out as much as he could later.

"I'll be back early in the morning to help you out and I'll make sure and bring some breakfast."

If JD had learned anything over the past months with these men it was the value in reading a situation by watching and listening. And he had learned it well. Vin was still very ill and his life still hung in the balance, but to see Chris once again sitting with his injured friend and with Buck by his side to offer his help and support as was his way, things seemed to have turned a corner. He might just have a quick stop back at the church before heading to bed to add his own prayers for a swift healing for Vin and them all. And with that thought in his head he left to find the others. A new idea was working its way into his brain as he walked toward the saloon. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad Christmas after all. Where there was unity there was hope.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The next few hours were anything but restful for any of the three men inhabiting the small clinic. Buck worked tirelessly to try and bring Vin's temperature down, wiping down the fevered flesh almost continuously. Chris had tried to get some rest on the small cot Nathan had started keeping in the corner for just such occasions, but found his slumber interrupted numerous times as Vin would rouse in a frenzy. Unsure of what was happening, and caught in a nightmare world of his mind's own making, it was Chris's voice alone that seemed to penetrate the tracker's disorientation. Very little of what Vin said made any sense as the disjointed ramblings flowed and glazed blues eyes stared out at sights the other two men couldn't see. But with just the few words they could understand and the agitated state of the ill man, it was obvious that Vin still thought the rest of the seven were in trouble and he had to help them. More than once Vin had gotten a death grip on Buck's arm, pleading with him to find Chris and arguing that he had to help their leader. And Chris would talk himself nearly hoarse until Vin would either realize who he was and calm down, or would finally succumb to his body's weakness and lose consciousness.

The hours passed slowly. For a few minutes, Chris found himself alone with Vin as Buck went to take care of the call of nature and get some fresh water. The younger man's fever was still raging and the sinking feeling in Chris' gut was beginning to wear down the renewed optimism he had received after his time in the church.

Staring down at the pale figure that once again lay motionless in the bed he felt his heart skip a beat. He couldn't decide which was worse, watching the unnatural stillness of the unconscious tracker for continued signs of life or fighting to calm the fever fueled ramblings. Both tore at his heart, shredding any sense of security he might have allowed himself to gain over the past months. The hardened gunslinger dipped the cloth in the tepid water of the nearby basin and gently ran it over Vin's flushed face.

The relaxed features gave light to the man's more than likely true age. 'So young to have seen so much.' Chris wondered how anyone could see such pain and hardship and still find it in his heart to help others. To have been abandoned and left to practically raise oneself at such a young age as Vin had been was almost unimaginable. It wasn't that it was impossible or even that unusual, but Chris had come from a loving home, raised by parents who taught him how to make his way in the world. Then the loss of his cherished wife and son had rocked his world, nearly eradicating every lesson he had been taught, even those he had gained from Sarah. In just one night of tragedy he had given in to the darker side of his nature without a second thought. While this young man before him had seen tragedy after tragedy and yet still retained a kind heart and sense of justice that rivaled about anyone Chris had ever met. Though often hidden behind a quiet and unassuming demeanor, Vin hadn't allowed his difficult life to harden him to the needs of others. In fact, the gunslinger often felt that Vin tried harder, as if trying to make up for his own pain and loss by seeing to it that other innocents were spared such needless suffering.

So where Chris had let tragedy turn him away from life and his responsibilities, Vin had let it shape his understanding of the underdog and catalyze his strong sense of responsibility, especially when it came to the safety of the men he had allowed into his life. A stubbornly proud man, Chris was honored to call him friend. Though the younger man's reckless disregard for his own life when protecting others had led to more than one injury and inevitable tongue lashing by his friends, this time it had been stubborn pride that had him now fighting for his life. Chris's own pride.

He had been too proud to work through the dark days of the Christmas holiday. Too proud to admit that there even was a problem. And too proud to turn to his friends to help him. Instead he had turned away from them and turned to whiskey. Wanting to forget, rather than remember. Turning his back on his friends and ultimately on the memories of his wife and son. Disgracing them and himself.

"I don't deserve a friend like you, Vin. People close to me get hurt. Or worse." Placing the now warm cloth back into the cool water he checked Vin's brow, sighing at the heat that continued to radiate from the flushed skin. He was doing it again. Turning his back, losing his faith, and trying to hide. Vin needed someone to believe in him more now than ever.

"My faith's been tested too many times already, cowboy. Even lost it for a while. But if I've got any faith left in me at all it's in you. Come on, Vin. Don't give up. You've still got too much to live for." The words he could never say to a conscious audience tumbled out without thought. "I know your life hasn't been easy and Lord knows if anyone deserves some peace it's you, but…" Chris swallowed back the sour taste left by the thoughts that had just entered his mind. "Guess I'm being selfish, but I ain't ready for you to go. Probably never will be. Who's ever ready to lose a family member and that's what you are to me, Vin. Didn't realize what I had until today. Got the best damn Christmas present anyone could ask for. I got me a brother."

Hearing the door open and seeing the tall lanky figure that entered, he quietly added, "or two."

Buck came in and seeing the strange look upon his old friend's face wondered if maybe he was interrupting. The guilt washed over him once again. Chris might have forgiven him for his interference, but the painful reminder in Nathan's bed was still weighing on him. It wasn't as easy for him to forgive himself. Especially with Vin still so sick. Bringing in the fresh water and carefully replacing what was in the basin, he reached up instinctively to touch the side of the tracker's face.

"Damn, he's still so hot."

Chris just glanced up instead of answering that he knew. The guilt once again present in Buck's eyes did not go unnoticed. "This isn't your fault."

Buck looked up, startled, even though he shouldn't have been. Chris had known him long enough and it wasn't like he was a man to hide his feelings.

"I shouldn't have interfered." Buck sighed and sat down heavily upon the chair on the other side of the bed. "Not like you two aren't grown men. I guess, well…"

"You didn't want the same thing to happen to Vin and me, that happened to you and me."

The frankness of the statement had Buck immediately looking up into the eyes of a man he had missed terribly. It was something that they had never even mentioned, let alone discussed.

Chris felt that it was time he set the record straight. Way past time to mend a few fences, starting with the man who had taught him what being a real friend meant, and the same man that had nearly paid the ultimate price for it.

Wanting to get up and distance himself from what he was about to say, he knew his tired body would not allow him to even stand at the moment. Maybe it was a sign that it was time to stop running. Time to stop trying to forget. And time now to remember, the good as well as the bad.

"I was one sorry excuse for a human being then." He didn't have to elaborate, knowing Buck was well aware of the time he was talking about. "Drank too much and cared too little. Hell," he scoffed. "I didn't care at all."

Buck sat wanting to stop Chris from pushing himself to talk about the dark days after Sarah and Adam's death, but not sure if he should. He wanted so much to help his oldest friend.

Chris had been one of the first men he had trusted with his past. Buck's campfire confession had come late one night. After the untimely death of a saloon girl in the last town they had visited, and encouraged by a couple of bottles of whiskey, the words had flowed. He had only known Chris for a few months, but it hadn't mattered, as the blond had seemed to sense the distress in his normally jovial new friend. The night had never been mentioned again, Chris never once saying anything negative or even mentioning the big man's heartfelt admissions. It had felt good to share the burden of his upbringing with someone and had strengthened the budding friendship between the two young men those many years ago. That sudden memory led Buck to see a similarity that had previously escaped his notice. Vin had trusted Chris with his past nearly from the beginning and upon there another friendship had been forged.

Despite the many differences of the seven men that served as the town's protectors, there were many hidden similarities. Nathan knew personally about prejudice, as did Vin and even Ezra. But so did Buck. How many times as a child had he been shunned? The very children he sought to play with practically dragged from his presence as though he were some sort of contagious disease that should be locked away and kept out of the sight of 'decent folk'.

Buck might not have been a slave, but his mother had been, in a sense. A slave to a society that gave a poor single mother very few choices and then ridiculed her for the life they had practically forced upon her. She was a saint in his eyes and still one of the bravest women he had ever known, though very few knew just what she had done, what she had sacrificed, all for love of her 'little man'. It wasn't that he was ashamed, but years of ridicule had a tendency to make an impression. So instead he had learned that the less said the better. Most people would likely find it shocking to know that his mother had been a 'working girl'. Most would probably even treat him differently if they knew; so many had, except for Chris. Chris had made him feel like he was just as good as everyone else and somehow Buck felt the same was true for Vin, in a way.

And just as the sharing of Buck's burdens so long ago had made a difference, now Chris needed to share. And just as his confession in the church earlier had lightened his load tremendously, he knew that it was time he returned the favor and allowed his old friend to do the same.

Chris had been half expecting Buck to try and stop him from the road he was about to travel. Half wanting him to and then again knowing full well that it was something that should have been spoken of a long time before. It was time to clear the air and lay down some groundwork on the renewed friendship he had with this softhearted ladies' man.

"I don't know what else to say other than, I'm sorry. I know back then you were only trying to help, but I didn't want you to. Didn't want anyone to. I couldn't stand the thought of losing anyone else I was close to. Guess I thought that if you weren't around me you'd be better off. Safer." Glancing up with a bare hint of a grin, Chris added. "Forgot that you were the one that got us in trouble most of the time anyway."

"Meeeee?" Buck's innocent look didn't hold long as the memories of the good times the two young men had flowed through his mind. "If I recall, I did have some help on occasion."

There he went, trying to avoid the past all over again. 'Damnit, Larabee. You are such a coward.' This was too important and needed to be said.

"More than anything, I'm sorry about Gibbonsville."

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

It had been six months after the death of his family and Buck had been like his shadow. Hauling Chris to bed when he got too drunk to do it himself or even care. Watching his back as his reputation as a gunslinger seemed to take on a life of its own. Those had been the darkest days of Chris Larabee's life. Full of whiskey, guns, and hate. Everything made him angry. The sun bright in the morning, the sound of children playing, the sight of his best friend sitting beside him stealing quick glances at him full of concern. Everything good was tinged dark with the pain he carried deep within his soul. A wound so deep he had thought it not only impossible to be mended, but more importantly one that did not deserve to be healed. Its festering, and the hell it brought him to reside in, was a seemingly small bit of penance for his failure to protect those he loved more than life itself.

Even Buck had not been himself during those months, suffering his own pain of loss silently. But the silence itself should have been an indication of how much the big man had been hurting. No carousing, loud talking, joking around. All of the things that made Buck who he was had been kept in reserve for the day he helped his friend begin to heal. Feeling his own guilt he had sought redemption by helping Chris, but even that had been denied him as the gunslinger had wrapped tighter and tighter within himself. Growing sullen and shadowy, the man he had called friend disappeared and a cold, angry being took his place. Months of taking the angry quiet of day and the foul mouth that awakened with too much imbibing at night were beginning to wear down the easygoing spirit. Yet even as he feared his own soul being tainted by the dark moods he was dealing with on a daily basis, he couldn't bring himself to walk away. He couldn't leave Chris to face the darkness alone. And he hadn't. The choice hadn't been his and the final straw came one dark rainy night in a saloon in the tiny town of Gibbonsville.

"Get the hell out of my face!"

It still amazed Buck how sober Chris could look and act even when totally smashed. The anger poured from every part of his body, from the stiffened shoulders to the dark glint in the icy green eyes. The glare and harsh words had already cleared out nearly every other patron in the tiny saloon, though at this late hour most had already escaped to their own homes. So now it was just Buck, Chris, and a cowering bartender who had already retreated to the far corner of the bar, almost too afraid to even poke his head above and relying on the mirror behind to alert him to further trouble.

"Now listen, Chris, I just think it's time we call it a night." Buck had already taken the liberty of securing a couple of the rooms that were available on the second floor of the little rundown establishment. They might not be much but the shorter the distance it took to get Chris to a bed the better. Wondering if he would be forced to use the less savory method of a fist to the jaw to get his friend to comply, Buck never saw the jab coming until he found himself flat on his back on the smelly wooden floor.

"I told you to stay away from me, but no! You just keep at it! Just leave me the hell alone!" Fire and anger rippled through the too lean form. It wasn't just Chris's soul that was suffering these days. The man ate too little, too infrequently, and often chose a liquid diet over a wholesome meal. Buck knew in a fair fight he could take Chris easily. But that night's fight was fueled by something much stronger than human might. That night Chris Larabee wasn't fighting with his friend. He was wrestling the demons of hell with a power fueled by months of bottled up hate and pain.

Buck, seeing only a need to protect himself and his friend, missed the warning signs and the look of murder coming from the darkened green eyes. Or maybe, somewhere deep in his own heart, he missed it on purpose, wanting to feel his own atonement in a more physical sense. His own pain and doubts had taken a back seat for too long, pushed aside by his need to look after Chris.

Jumping up Buck rushed Chris, taking him down hard, the other man's reflexes slowed slightly by the amber liquid still firing through his veins. "I ain't… gonna… give up." Buck huffed, fighting to get the words out through clenched teeth as he worked to subdue the writhing body beneath him. "So you just… might as well… get used to… Ohhfff!"

All of the air was knocked from his body as a fist connected painfully with his left side. Momentarily stunned he felt himself shoved off sideways, the momentum rolling him onto his back just as a dark visage rose over him.

The next few minutes were filled with the grunts, groans, and yells of two men so filled with pain and rage that nothing mattered but trying to take it out on one another. Both in a blind rage and unable to quell the anger long enough to truly think about the consequences of their actions. Another fist to the gut, another to the face. Both men gave as good as they got.

Then once again fate stepped in to further complicate the situation. A discarded bottle and the edge of a table put a quick and frightening end to the contest of wills. Chris had pushed Buck away from him to get a better angle when the ladies' man had tripped over the unseen bottle that lay just behind his right foot. It happened so fast and yet seemed in slow motion as Buck's head connected with the edge of the table with a sickening crack.

In mere seconds Chris's world plunged into the deeper depths of darkness and this time literally by his own hands. Those frightening moments remained clear in his mind though the rest of the night had been a blur, what happened before and after stolen by the aftereffects of the alcohol. The next morning he had awakened in the local jail, certain that he had killed his best friend.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

"It was a long time ago."

"I nearly killed you."

"I'm still here."

"It shouldn't have happened. You were only trying to help and nearly died because of it."

"It was just a little knock to the head. You and I both know there wasn't any damage left to be done." Buck was trying to lighten the mood as always.

Chris just couldn't let it go, not yet. The sight of Buck bleeding all over the dirty barroom floor was still vivid in his mind. And being so tired and already having been through the emotional wringer with Vin only heightened his response.

"You're a good friend, Buck Wilmington. You were there during the darkest hours of my life and kept me from following Sarah and Adam to the grave." Chris swallowed hard against the emotions that tightened his throat. He might never feel like this again. Not one to openly show much emotion, if he didn't say this now, he probably never would. "I hated you for it then. God help me, but I did. I didn't want anyone caring, didn't want you near. But you wouldn't leave me alone, wouldn't let me just die."

Buck felt his own heart break at Chris's admissions. Though he had suspected and feared those very things, it was different to hear it said out loud.

"You saved my life and I treated you like shit for it. Beat the crap out of you and nearly killed you, then just rode away. You deserved better."

For once in his life, Buck was nearly speechless. But as was his nature he sought to assuage some of his friend's guilt. "As I recall, you took a bit of a beatin' yourself that night."

The genuine smile and mischievous glint that greeted Chris was contagious and he felt his own lips curl in response.

"Besides, I have it on good authority that one mangy gunslinger sat outside that old doctor's house until he was certain another sorry soul was gonna make it before he rode out."

Chris had wondered if the old crusty doctor that had patched up his friend had said anything to him about the ill-tempered gunfighter that had camped out in his front yard for the two days it took for Buck to heal enough to be out of danger. He had refused any treatment for himself, but had to admit that he hadn't felt too spry for a good week after the brawl.

"We sure are a mess, aren't we?" Buck commented as he shook his head. "Two old geezers sitting here worried about things long done and gone."

"I just…" Chris started, but was interrupted.

"That's the past, old friend. Guess it's time we both let it go." Buck's words held a double meaning and were sobering until he nodded toward the bed and added. "Sides, with these younguns' to raise, who's got time to bellyache about the past?"

Chris quietly snorted as he looked down at Vin's profile. "Hell, he's older than both of us put together."

"Hard to believe sometimes that he ain't rightly much older than JD, ain't it?" Buck still marveled at the hidden youth of the group's second in command. Despite the rough and rugged exterior and shrewd eyes that more often than not reflected a hard edge formed by his vast experiences, both good and bad, the youthful and mischievous side of the group's tracker had become more apparent as the months passed and they had all become more comfortable around one another. It may have been the life experiences that made Vin seem so much older, but they were also made him the man he was.

Chris's nod showed his agreement. The weariness he felt within only gained in intensity after the emotionally draining revisiting of the past. Seeing the slumped shoulders and the tightness around Chris' eyes, Buck knew he was falling down on his job. It wasn't just Vin he was supposed to be looking after.

"Why don't you lay down for another spell? Hopefully, the kid here's worn himself out enough to sleep for a bit." Knowing Chris as he did, and already expecting the protest, he continued before he could be interrupted. "I'll keep trying to get the fever down and let you know if there's any change whatsoever. And then, once you've had some rest, reckon I could use a bit of a nap myself."

Chris felt his lips tug up at the way Buck had laid it all out, knowing full well he would protest and cutting off any such arguments with pure and simple logic. Most people saw the ladies' man as just a fun loving guy with a penchant for thinking with his lower extremities on most occasions, but after years of riding together Chris was well aware of the man's more hidden talents. Beneath the gregarious big man with a heart to more than match his size, was a logical mind and a will stronger than iron. Another trait Buck had in common with Vin, allowing outer appearances and actions to conceal the gifts that lay within.

"Okay, but you wake me in a couple of hours." Chris added a watered down version of his glare to make his point before settling back onto the cot in the corner. He knew he was tired, but he wouldn't even remember lying down as his body succumbed to the overall exhaustion.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Nathan had been feeling so beyond tired, but now even though he had been given the opportunity to rest, had practically been ordered to, he couldn't. Though weary in body his mind would not relax as the worry that he couldn't shake manifested itself into an incredible need to pray. It wasn't that he hadn't been doing so off and on already, nearly from the moment the loud knock at his door had roused him from a peaceful sleep. When Chris had come to inform the healer of his intention to ride out in search of Vin for no other reason than the gunslinger felt something was wrong, he had prayed. But right now he felt a need to be within the house of God. Though still a bit rundown, it was a sanctuary. A place to go to find comfort and peace, though he doubted that would come for him this evening. So he knelt in silence, his mind so engrossed in his thoughts and prayers that he was unaware when someone joined him.

Josiah had left the saloon not long after JD had come to inform Ezra and himself of Vin's condition and Chris's orders for all of them to get some rest. Ezra had retreated to his room, mumbling something about having some things to take care of. Strange, the preacher thought, knowing the conman wasn't normally prone to incoherent speech. Of course they had all had a long, hard day. Heading back to the church and his small room in the back, he wasn't sure just how much sleep he would get, but truth be told, he wanted to see the bookshelf Vin had made. The tracker had definitely picked up a vast array of skills in his short but enormously busy life.

As he entered the church he spotted the gift where it sat against the wall and knelt down to examine it more closely. The light from the candles that must have been left over from the service provided enough illumination for him to see the similarities in the workmanship of this piece and the manger. He was touched beyond measure at the slight carving work that had been done on the edges. That personal touch reminded him of the carvings upon Ezra's gift box. Likely Vin had put a great deal of thought and care into all the gifts.

It also hadn't escaped Josiah's notice that nothing had been delivered, or even mentioned, for Chris. Surely Vin would have thought of their leader first of all. Even if things had been more than a touch strained between the two over the last few days, it wasn't Vin's nature to allow such a slight. Not that it mattered at the moment, but it was a curious thought.

A sound from the front of the church had him instantly alert. Had the light been better he might have noticed his visitor sooner, but the unmistakable form was hunched pretty low at the moment. Josiah knew too well the heart Nathan poured into his work and this time had to be worse, with the patient being a friend and one of the very men who had saved him from hanging. The war within his own heart was difficult, but as their healer, the ex-slave was depended on most often to provide answers that were beyond mortal man's capabilities.

Seeing his friend so obviously in pain, he started to approach, but hesitated. Should he interrupt Nathan's quiet time with God or should he join with him? Well, it was said that two heads were better than one.

"Brother? May I join you?"

The quiet voice in the darkness caused the healer's heart to quicken, but he tried not to react outwardly. It was foolish of him to be caught so unaware. "Not so sure I'd be much company at the moment. I's just headed over to Chris's room for a little nap. Thought I'd stop here on the way."

Josiah felt a grin form on his lips as he sat down on the front pew just behind the hunched figure that had yet to look up. "Seems to me that Brother Chris's room is in the opposite direction. But, then again, the mind is one of the first things to go, or so I'm told."

Nathan chuckled as he wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. Then, slowly standing, he sat down beside his friend.

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes as the stillness surrounded them like a blanket. Josiah felt that Nathan needed to talk and was more than willing to wait for him to take his own time doing so.

"Sometimes I wish I didn't know a thing about healing."

A thousand retorts sprung to Josiah's mind, but he held his tongue, knowing full well the path his friend's thoughts were taking.

"I just… It's hard knowing that you've done everything you know to help someone. Praying it'll be enough. Terrified it won't be." Nathan felt his throat tighten. "Facing the loved ones and not knowing whether someone's gonna live or die. Wondering if you might have been able to do more."

"Except this time, you have to face a loved one every time you look in the mirror." Josiah's profound statement had Nathan's head up and the dark brown eyes staring right at him.

"We do the best we can, my friend. All of us use what we have to the best of our knowledge, the best of our abilities. And.." The next words were for both of them. "Sometimes it's not enough."

Nathan looked into his friend's icy blue eyes and saw his own doubts and torments mirrored there. They both had doubts. They all did. They were human. And Vin's fate was out of human hands.

"We do the best we can and we leave the rest up to God. We don't always understand why the path we are on takes sudden turns. Why was Vin left alone at five? Why were you sold away from your family and home? Why did John Dunne come out west after losing his mother? Why did Chris lose his family?" Josiah's eyes traveled to the cross upon the wall. "There are things we face in our lives that seem more like the end than the beginning, but through the twists and turns we find a path we never could have imagined. Something greater than ourselves.

Nathan nodded his head in agreement. He would never have thought of the day he was nearly hung as a miraculous occurrence, but it had led him to meet two of the finest men he had ever known. That fateful experience had led him down a path he would never have imagined for himself, but now found it even harder to live without. His life was definitely more complicated than ever and fuller because a bunch of rowdy cowhands had taken it upon themselves to dish out what they considered frontier justice. He couldn't deny that sometimes good things did come from bad situations.

"I don't know if Brother Chris is rubbing off on me or not, but I feel like this has all happened for a reason. We might not understand the reason just now, and may not ever, but I have to believe that there is a higher purpose."

The preacher's ice blue eyes looked upon his friend with warmth and hope. "Pray with me?" Nathan nodded and then both men turned their eyes toward the cross.

"God, we're not ready to lose our young brother and I don't think you're really ready for him just yet. He's quite a handful." The big preacher's lips turned up slightly at his own light reference to Vin's demeanor, but it didn't slow him down as with a more somber tone he proceeded.

"I know that you know what is best for us even when we don't understand it ourselves and often rail against you for the trials you lay before us. But I pray that you will see fit to grant us another miracle at this blessed anniversary of your Son's birth. You sent him in to this world to save us all and I have little doubt that you did the same thing with Vin Tanner. Though I know he would deny being an instrument of healing, you and I know he has been. I often think of him as the balm and adhesive of our little band. With his quiet support and encouragement he allows each of us to grow and learn, while supplying the needed guidance. And I come before you today humbly asking that you return him unto us. We still have so much more to learn from him."

The next part was added silently within the confines of Josiah's own heart. 'And I would like the opportunity to continue educating him on brighter aspects of friendship. Vin hasn't seen nearly enough kindness in his young life. I just want a chance to change that, if only a little.'

"Thy will be done. Amen."

The healer's emotion roughened voice echoed the older man's sentiments. "Amen."

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The last day, coupled with the last few hours, proved draining on the two strong men, both physically and mentally. Each had finally fallen into a restless sleep. Vin lay deathly still once more upon the bed. Chris had given up lying down to prop up against the back wall, only half reclined on the cot. Getting up so often to tend to Vin was proving more and more difficult on his body that he was certain was aging with each passing minute. While Buck's large frame was perched precariously on the wooden chair that he had strategically positioned beside the bed, the big man's chin was resting upon his broad chest. The only sounds in the room were their soft breathing and the occasional snore that slipped from the back of Buck's throat through his slightly open mouth.

Awareness came in the form of a sharp pain in his side as he tried to draw a deep breath into his lungs. It was pure instinct that had Vin stifling the groan that nearly accompanied the returning sensations. He didn't dare open his eyes, for he was absolutely certain that any movement at all would drive the rail spike that had to be sticking in his skull straight on through. Then again maybe that might not be such a bad idea. Just end it quick before his head split in two.

Slowly he began to try to assess what had happened. He didn't even remember being near a railroad. Maybe it was an ax or 'aw hell' maybe he got shot again. Chris was always threatening to shoot him and for some reason he couldn't quite grasp he felt like Chris had been mad enough the last time he had seen him to do just that.

'Oh, God.' Even thinking hurt, but he had learned to always know what he was getting into before showing his hand. It was vital that he figure out the where, how, and why of the situation before he dare let on to anyone, friend or foe, that he was awake. Fighting the rising nausea, the pounding in his head, and the ache of nearly every other part of his body, he slowly worked his mind through his memory, trying to piece together what had happened.

The smells that assaulted him were all too familiar and it hadn't taken him long to decide that he was once again encroaching on the kindness and hospitality of the town's healer. Nathan would likely keep him prisoner for quite a while to come if his current condition was any indication. But, how had he gotten here? Had he been shot during a robbery attempt or shootout? Maybe he'd gotten the shit beaten out of him by five or ten men in a bar fight. Certainly felt that way. Or maybe he had actually made Chris mad enough to…

The last thought brought a flood of images crashing painfully into his head as the missing pieces fell into place. "Ohhh." This time the groan was audible, but it wasn't just caused by the physical ailments. Memories of his fight with Chris, the angry words that had been said by both, and the outcome of his stupid action of riding out without thought caused a greater pain in his heart than any of his other injuries could have ever inflicted.

"Vin?" Even though the quiet voice he heard above was easily recognizable, the pungent odor of the familiar cologne was a dead give away. Vin chuckled inside, wondering what the ladies' man would think if he found out where the cologne he had worn for the past two month had really come from.

Buck had met the buxom blond, Miss Mandy, at the saloon in Breckenridge and as a 'token' of her affection she had given the cologne to the ladies' man as a gift. But Vin had been in the saloon early the morning before when the young lady in question had boasted at the discovery of a bag full of toiletries and colognes that had been left behind by one of her customers. She had even given Vin a bottle that was now secured in his wagon, where it was likely to stay.

That good-humored thought was quickly overcome as his surroundings became more apparent. Allowing his eyes to peel open just the smallest crack he noted how dark it was. Or at least he hoped it was just dark. He remembered things being fuzzy before. Shapes and shadows mostly. Voices. Smells. The cabin?!

Buck wasn't sure what had roused him, but noticing the slight movement of Vin's mouth had him instantly awake. The quietly spoken name hadn't produced any further movement and he was beginning to think he had dreamed the whole thing when the body on the bed jerked like it had been shaken and the blue eyes flew open.

"Help… them." The raspy voice was a rough whisper. The words were interrupted by quiet gasps. Vin had to make Buck understand. He had left the boy all alone. The woman and her son might need help with her husband still away. "You've… got ta… make sure…" Buck was pushing a cup of water in his face and he pushed it away. "No… got ta… be sure… they're… alright."

Buck was certain that his friend was once more lost in delirium, completely unsure of his surroundings. "It's okay, Vin. We'll make sure. You just rest now. Here." Trying once again with the cup of water. "You need to drink this."

"No. Are… they… okay?"

Even though Vin could only make out a blurry shadow above him, he knew without a doubt that it was Buck. Vin grabbed at the wavering hands nearby and it was all Buck could do to keep from dumping the entire contents of the cup on the younger man.

"The fellas are fine." The breathless whispers pained Buck to even hear, but the searching eyes that never actually met his sent a stab of fear straight through him. It wasn't just the fear and panic he could read clearly that raised his alarm. It was the lost look, lack of true focus, and the slim rim of blue around the overly large irises. 'Oh God, he can't even see me!' Buck swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and tried to refocus his mind. 'Get it together, Wilmington. First things first.'

"Come on now, just take some of this water. You've got to be about bone dry." Buck tried to keep his voice even, steady, reassuring, all the while his mind was screaming. 'What if he's blind? What with the head wound and the fever… And talking out of his head?'

Vin took a small sip of the water and tried clearing his throat, which hurt like hell as ripples of pain coursed throughout his body. 'Mental note to self, don't do that again!'

"No… the mother… her son...." Pleading blue eyes searched the shadows above for some reassurance. Surely when they had found him they would have made sure the two people who had watched after him were taken care of. Unless something had happened while he was out of it.

Slowly, between sentences, Buck was managing to get some water into the sweat soaked body. Hair, dark and matted with sweat, clung to the sides of Vin's face and neck, the ends curling into small ringlets. Only half listening to Vin's ramblings, the big man concentrated on getting the precious liquid into him and then hopefully following it up with some of the medicinal tea that had been kept warming on the stove.

"When… ya found… me? She looked… after me… real good. Woulda died… without… her." The breaths were hard to draw in as the fire in his left side flared. "Her husband… away. They's… all alone. He's just… a little… feller."

"Don't you worry about a thing. Just relax." Of all the other times when Vin had awakened his speech hadn't been as clear. Though he was breathless, the words were understandable. It was the subject that had Buck so confused. It was like he was remembering something that might have happened long before and confusing it with now. But of course a fever could do that.

"Were… were they… okay?"

Not wanting to upset the ill man and glancing up at Chris's form, which still looked relaxed in the hold of sleep, he quietly tried to reason with the tracker. "You were alone when we found you. Don'tcha remember? You fell down the side of the mountain and must have crawled to the cave where we found ya."

"No… left… the cave. Found… found a… cabin." The blue eyes lost some of their intense focus as he drew upon the recollections he had of his time with the young mother and her son, his voice becoming a touch stronger. "It was… small place… two… maybe three rooms… I think. Warm… cozy… smelled of… spiced cider… 'n pine."

He was forgetting something important. It was so close and yet just short of his grasp. Why was everything still so hazy? "She was… Her name was…"

"It's okay, pard. Plenty of time to worry about such things later. Right now just drink some of this tea for me." Buck was beginning to wish Chris would awaken and a touch worried that he hadn't already. Any other time Vin could just breathe heavy and the gunslinger would have been by the tracker's side in an instant. Now here the boy was, lost in some delirium, and the only man who ever seemed to be able to get through to him was dead to the world. Maybe that knock to Chris's head was beginning to take its toll. The ladies' man made a mental note to check on his old friend as soon as he got the young one settled down.

"Just a bit more now." Luckily Vin was at least taking in some liquids, but still, it might not be enough. Buck recalled when one of his mother's friends had been lost to fever.

He hadn't been much more than fourteen, but he still remembered it like it was yesterday. His mother had taken the young girl under her wing from her first days of employment and tried to help her through the rough beginnings. A fast friendship had formed and Buck had seen the new addition to his world as an older sister. One night, a little over a year later, a particularly rough customer used a knife on the girl. Though the cut hadn't seemed too bad and she had been fixed up and sent back to work, infection had set in and two days later she was dead. Buck had tried to help his ma by bringing in fresh water and rags as she had battled the young girl's fever. Of course they hadn't had Nathan or any other healer then or he was certain the outcome might have been a lot different.

Well, they had Nathan now. And with his noxious teas and skilled hands, Buck prayed that this time it would be different.

Lost in his own memories, he was brought back to the present by a slight tug on his sleeve. He looked down at Vin, whose face was clouded with concern.

"They's all right? Ain't they?" The tea seemed to have eased Vin's breathing some and his sentences came more fluidly though he still stopped to regain his strength between each one. Once again the wide blue eyes seemed to fade to another time and place, only making Buck's theory of fever induced delirium seem more plausible.

"Don't remember the boy's name… not sure she said. Couldn't see her too good. But she had the purttiest voice. Like an angel. Think she might a been from somewhere's else. Reminded me of a feller I met once from some place called Ireland."

Vin's brow furrowed as another memory filtered in, but the tea was beginning to do its job and he yawned despite the gnawing need to stay awake and remember. As his eyelids grew heavy and the tension slowly seeped from his body, his last words stripped every ounce of color from Buck's face.

"Lizbeth. Her name's Lizbeth. And she called the boy… Laddie, that's what she called him. Lizbeth called him laddie." The words faded away as sleep claimed him, but they echoed loudly in Buck's mind.

Buck felt a cold chill run down his spine and the hair on his arms stood on end. How he kept hold of the cup in his hand was anyone's guess. No way. There was no way Vin could know that. Looking up to the other cot, he did drop the cup and it clattered noisily to the floor as two shocked green eyes met his. Chris had heard it all.

PART 3

Chris had awakened at Vin's first moan, but like Buck, hadn't been sure it wasn't anything more than his imagination so he had remained still. He had just dozed back off when he heard Vin cry out and almost moved to help, but a wave of nausea and dizziness made him remain where he was for the moment. Buck had his hands full taking care of Vin and he didn't want to distract him from that task. Besides, it would do the other man good to spend a bit of time taking care of Vin. It might even help the big lug work off some of the guilt that was sure to still be lingering in his big heart.

As Vin began talking and asking the strange questions, he feigned sleep and listened. Something was different. It wasn't just that Vin was more coherent, although what he was talking about said otherwise. It was something else. Something he couldn't quite explain really. More of a feeling. Almost like the calm before a storm.

Even as Vin continued to talk and bring up more memories, Chris's mind was wandering down his own path. Nights by a roaring fire with Sarah reading her bible out loud as he rocked their son to sleep. The smell of the special family recipe for apple cider that had warmed him inside and out on many a cold winter's eve. And the smell of pine. His wife had loved the smell and used the evergreen to decorate at Christmas time. An unusual feeling of warmth crept into his body as the past flowed through his mind, slowly mingling with Vin's own recollections.

All at once his body went rigid and his eyes shot open with his best friend's last words. It was as if someone had just poured a bucket of ice water over him. Had he not already been sitting down, he was certain he would have found himself on the floor. His eyes flew first to the oblivious form on the bed, the blue eyes closed in sleep and the face full of peace and innocence. Looking up he saw his own shock mirrored on Buck's face.

Buck wanted to help, needed to make sense of it all and fast. His first thought that Vin didn't know was verified by the look on Chris's face. "He… well… I don't think he had any idea what he was saying. He's delirious, Chris. Just talking out of his head."

Trying to calm his racing heart and trying his best to work some moisture back into his mouth, Chris was glad the quiver he felt inside didn't come out in his voice. Something about Vin's voice was bothering him and after seeing the young man's face, the question had intensified. "Check his forehead." He would have done it himself if he thought he could have moved at the moment without shaking like a leaf.

Buck's mind might have questioned Chris, but his body obeyed. His shakiness was all too apparent as the big hand quivered as he placed it on Vin's sweaty brow. Within a second he realized exactly what Chris was getting at.

"He's cooler." His own voice shook slightly as the implication of his own words dawned on him. "The fever's broke."

It was the moment they had wanted, the moment they had hoped and prayed for. But now that it had arrived it only left them full of more questions.

"Buck, he knew exactly what he was saying."

"No way. Just… there's just no way." Buck was shaking his head, still trying to sort through the last few minutes.

Chris's voice was a whisper as the next words came. There weren't many men he would have ever admitted this to, but Buck Wilmington was one of the chosen few. "I never told him. I mean, we've talked about what happened, a little, but I never told him about…" He still couldn't seem to get any moisture in his incredibly dry mouth and his voice sounded rough to his own ears. "I never told him that Sarah's mother was Irish or about the accent or that her mother called her Lizbeth. And I never mentioned that Sarah called Adam laddie."

Even the air seemed to have stilled with the revelation, both men afraid to move as they thought about the last few minutes.

Averting his eyes, he prepared to confess some of the things he had been trying to deny for the last twenty-four hours. "I knew he was in trouble. Kept having these strange dreams. Don't really remember them, but one is still clear. It was Christmas. The house was all decorated and I could even smell the cider. Sarah and Adam were there." The next words were softer. "Vin was there, too."

Finally allowing his own eyes to meet Buck's he was overwhelmed by the lack of disbelief there. Chris had been half expecting Buck to get up and try to get him to lie down before he went to tell Nathan that he thought their leader had lost his mind. Instead he found a genuine look of encouragement for him to continue.

"Vin was sitting at the table, you know the one Sarah bought off of that old couple before they moved back east. He had a cup of cider and looked right at home. Like he belonged there. That hide coat of his was on a peg by the door… Then it was gone, they were gone. All three of them. Everything was covered in ashes." Chris felt his voice strengthen as he began to put the pieces together. "That's when I knew something was wrong."

Buck couldn't believe his ears, but in some strange way it made sense. God help him, maybe he was tired, maybe he was crazy, but somehow it just felt right. Watching the emotions play across Chris's face as he continued to speak, he once again thanked God for bringing him and Chris's paths back together. But most of all he thanked God for a scruffy, scrawny, Texas bred sharpshooter.

"I've been thinking about Sarah and Adam ever since. The good stuff. The happy times. It was almost…" His voice faded out as his doubts and fears once again took hold. But, just as his own faith wavered, Buck's took hold.

"It was like they were with you?!" It was more statement than question. Buck had seen strange things in his life, mostly bad things, but not even he could deny that miracles did exist. The very fact that Chris had just opened up to him was one of them. As he examined the strange happenings he had just ignored before the pieces began to fit together, the strange way Chris had just led them without reasoning, the way they had found Peso and JD's observations of there only being the horse's prints in the surrounding area, and, more importantly, the last few minutes. Now he was beginning to believe that there had been miracles happening all around them the entire time. And he couldn't deny that there had to be someone or something leading them to find Vin. Despite his doubts he had the desire, the need, to believe.

Chris just nodded at Buck's words. He wanted to deny it. His mind was screaming that there was no way this could be true, but deep in his heart was another story. His heart was telling him that the woman with the faith of an army and the inner strength to rival the strongest of materials had found a way, even beyond death itself, to help him. To help Vin. His head dropped to his chest as he felt the tears that appeared without warning in his eyes.

'Sweet Sarah. Thank you.'

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The softness of winter's blanket began to cover the buildings and streets of the quiet western town. As the gray early light of dawn began to ebb across the landscape, very little movement could be found. It was Christmas morning. While the majority of the town's inhabitants were tucked away in their homes, warm and cozy, enjoying the blessed holiday with their families, most were as yet unaware of the fear and uncertainty that dwelt within their midst.

Chris stood at the window of the clinic, watching the white flakes fall silently from the alabaster sky. It had started snowing about an hour before dawn and was just beginning to pick up. Sarah had loved the snow, calling it 'winter's glory'. Even though the snowfalls were a rare occurrence, he remembered his wife welcoming them with the joy of a child. Though the very arrival of these types of storms could prove troublesome and even dangerous to the unprepared, she always saw them as a new beginning, the white snow covering the unsightly deadness of winter, giving a glimpse of raw beauty until the renewal of spring could arrive.

Now as he stood in the early light of Christmas morning, he couldn't help but wonder just where he was supposed to go from here. Vin's fever had broken a few hours ago, but still he worried. If anyone had asked the hardened gunslinger just a year ago what he feared most, after he shot the fool, he would have likely answered himself. The thing he feared most was caring again. And yet, he could not imagine never knowing these men he now called friends. He could not fathom not having Vin in his life.

Somehow Chris felt just like the winter. The numbness of his soul had been just as ugly. Then, just as the snow covers the darkness; providing a new cleansing brightness, the dark gunslinger had felt his deep pain easing and his soul lightening. Vin was like the snow bringing a freshness to his world and blanketing the gloom that lay within him. The tracker's quiet support and friendship, like a beacon of light, led Chris toward a new spring. It might not be the same type of light that Sarah and Adam had brought into his life, but it was no less vital.

Even as he came to that realization, he felt a shiver run down his spine. It felt as if the present and the past had somehow come together in the last day to shape his future. Deep in his heart he did long for a renewed spring, a new beginning, but at the same time he feared it beyond reason.

Even while his head was trying to deny that it could be true, his heart pleaded differently. Somehow, someway, had Sarah reached across time, transcended heaven and earth, to reach him the only way she could, by helping to bring Vin back to him? He had always said that Sarah had strength of the soul like none he had ever seen and now before him, in Nathan's sick bed… Was Vin living proof of that?

Buck's loud snore from the corner cot where he slept, followed by some strange mumblings that Chris was certain he didn't wish to know the meaning of, broke through the gunslinger's train of thought and he turned away from the window. The war within only intensified as he walked back toward the bed. Staring down at the ill tracker his worry grew. How could he believe that there was good at work when his friend's life still lay in the balance? Chris didn't know what to believe. His tired mind seemed to shut down as the conflicting emotions became too much and he sat down heavily in the chair, his head in his hands. This just wasn't getting any better. Vin may be on the road to recovery and he prayed earnestly that he was, but the fear he felt would not ease until he was absolutely certain the younger man would be okay. Then maybe he could decide if he was okay.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Nathan was practically running down the sidewalk. It was still early with no one yet stirring on the streets on this holiday morning, but he was late. He hadn't meant to sleep so long. 'Should a never left.' He chastised himself for his own weakness of body while at the same time knowing that he needed the rest. Besides, they would have sent for him if he had been needed. Hell, if Vin had gotten worse, knowing this gang as he did, they would have probably awakened the whole town by just yelling for him.

Bounding up the stairs two at a time he didn't think to knock on his own door before entering. The sight of two guns trained on him as he entered was a gentle reminder that maybe he should have.

"It's just me." Nathan clarified unnecessarily. The guns, that were already being reholstered, came up again as more footsteps clamored up the outside staircase. Turning to see the other three men coming up behind him, Nathan clarified. "It's just the others."

Within minutes the formerly quiet clinic was full. Nathan quickly went to check on his patient. Buck and Chris stood back out of the way while the others gathered just inside the doorway.

Josiah felt a need to explain their abrupt appearance. "We saw Nathan running and, well…" His head dipped slightly as the look on their faces spoke volumes. "We thought something had happened."

"I overslept, that's what happened. How's he been? Has he woke up any?" Feeling Vin's forehead first he felt a small wave of relief. "Fever broke?!" It was half question, half statement.

Buck and Chris shared a strange look that the others didn't catch since their eyes were locked on the pale form in the bed. Swallowing quickly, Chris worked to answer Nathan's question without offering any unnecessary information.

"It broke early this morning. He's been pretty quiet since. Had a rough time of it before, though." Chris offered.

"I got some water into him, but didn't have time to get any of that tea in him before he was out again." Buck wasn't about to add anything else to the statement, like the fact he'd been too shocked to even try.

"So he's been awake since the fever broke?"

"Uh… yeah." Buck's seeming reluctance to answer the simple question alarmed the healer and he looked up to see the strange look mirrored on both friends' faces.

"What?" The knot in his stomach tightened. "What's wrong? Did he know ya?" All of the possible side effects of a high fever, coupled with the head wound, were swirling around in Nathan's head at a dizzying pace. What if there was damage to Vin's mind from the fever, the fall, the exposure…?

Chris immediately saw through Nathan's questions to the worry behind them. "No, he was fine."

"Well… mostly." The words seemed to fall from Buck's mouth without his knowledge, but as the quiet remark rang in the small room he felt the heat of Chris's glare and didn't dare look up.

"Mostly?" Nathan didn't have time to play games. "Just tell me what happened."

For a minute no one said a word. Buck stared at the floor while Chris put on a poker face that would have made Ezra proud had he himself not been wondering exactly what had caused the two men's strange words and reactions. In fact everyone was waiting for a few answers.

Nathan's frustration at not being able to help Vin before was now manifesting itself into anger as the two men before him became a stumbling block on Vin's road to recovery.

"I can't help him if you two don't tell me what the hell's going on. When he woke up was he in his right mind or not? Could he speak? Did he seem to know you?" Nathan's brown eyes narrowed as he stared at Chris. But Buck broke first.

"He woke up and was talking just fine. Bit tired out and had some trouble breathin', but I've had busted ribs myself and that can hurt like hell and make it real hard to breathe…" The big man rambled on.

"Buck!" Nathan was losing his temper.

Buck swallowed, not wanting to say too much, not yet anyway. "He seemed a mite confused. Talking about stuff that… well, he just seemed confused. I thought he was still just out of his head with fever, but when I checked him he was cooler."

Nathan went back to checking his patient as he mulled over what he had heard. There was still something that Buck wasn't saying. "Might a just been remembering some fever dreams. He knew ya though, right?"

"Oh, hell yeah." Buck seemed relieved to answer that question.

"Nathan?" Chris's voiced held an undercurrent of steel and Nathan nearly flinched at the rawness of the emotions he felt like a ripple effect in the air. It still amazed him just how effortlessly Larabee carried his power. One word, his own name, sounded out a thousand different questions. 'How is he? Will he be okay? What do you think? What can I do? What can we do? Can you help him?'

The questions were not that easily answered, but he would try. "For now it's a good sign that the fever broke. And you say he knew ya, was somewhat clear-headed. The head wound looks to be healing up okay." Continuing in his ministrations, he got up to get some fresh supplies to re-bandage the tracker's injuries. "Just want to re-dress them cuts and check his ribs again. Hopefully he'll wake up long enough for me to ask him a few questions and get some tea and broth in 'em."

As if on cue a soft voice rose. "Ya'll mind… keepin' it… down a mite. Feels… like… my head's… bout ta splode."

Exclamations of surprise and joy echoed through the small room.

"Cowboy?"

"Vin?"

"Blessed be."

"Hey there, Vin. Bout time you woke up."

"Mr. Tanner?"

"Just take it easy."

The last remark came from Nathan as he knelt down over his patient. Two blue slits stared up at him.

"Shit… why didn't… one of ya… fellas… pull me … out a… the way… that herd… buffalo." The ragged breathing between the raspy words had Nathan worried.

"You just hush up now 'fore ya go and pass out on us again." Carefully undoing the tight wrapping that was binding Vin's torso he heard the sharp intake of air and saw the flinch as his hands checked the purple mottled side. "Vin, I know it's hurtin' ya. Just take it easy and keep breathing real slow and easy."

"Easy… for… you… ta…"

"Hush up now and relax."

"Boy don't talk unless you prod him and now he won't shut up." Buck's nervousness was spilling from his mouth. He was still feeling jumpy after the words Vin had spoken when he was last awake. Stealing sideways glances at Chris he couldn't read anything but worry from the man. What should he do? What if Vin started talking out of his head again? Or had he been out of his head at all?

"Damn… Nathan. Ya think… ya could put… your hands… in a bucket… of ice water. Don't think… they's quite cold… enough yet." Each word was a struggle for Vin, but he couldn't help but try and lighten the mood he could feel like a thick fog within the room.

All the eyes he could feel staring a hole in him were beginning to make him more than a touch uncomfortable and even though his mind hadn't fully latched onto what all had happened, there were two things that were easily discernable. He was hurt and the others were worried. The former observation had been immediately evident from the moment he awoke and had to stifle the urge to moan, scream, and puke all at the same time. The latter was made obvious by the faces gawking at him, Chris staring daggers, Buck and JD's lack of rattling on endlessly, and Nathan's hovering. Even though his eyesight had yet to fully clear his other senses were serving him just fine. Just the tension he felt running through the room, like the feel of charged air just before a huge lightning storm, was indication enough and made him feel cold from the inside out. Without a doubt he knew he had nearly died.

Nathan's next words confirmed it. "Just stay still and save your breath. Ya nearly died and if you go and get yourself all worked up you could make yourself all sick again. Don't think any of us can stand that." Nathan hadn't meant to voice the last part and saw the startled look in the blue eyes.

He watched Vin's Adam's apple bob a few times and the next quiet word was practically croaked out. "Sorry."

Reaching for the glass of water that suddenly appeared in front of him, Nathan looked up to see that Chris had moved to the tracker's side. Together they lifted Vin enough to get some water in him, quickly following it with some of the warm herbal brew he used for pain and healing.

For his part, Vin let them help him, fully aware that he was too weak to help himself at the moment and feeling like a burden enough already. It was hard to let them help, but at the same time he relished in the fact that they cared enough to. While he saw nothing strange with him helping one of the others, it still seemed odd that such feelings would be reciprocated. It created a warm feeling deep within that was not fever fueled. No, this particular fire had been kindled with kindness and stoked by deep friendship.

Nathan asked simple questions as he worked and Vin quietly answered.

"Headache?"

"Yeah, but it's tolerable."

"How's your eyesight?"

"Bit fuzzy still. Gettin' better though." Vin was quick to add the last bit to keep from adding to the others worry.

"This side's a bit bruised up and the ribs are cracked but not broken." Nathan continued wrapping the patient's torso as Chris held Vin up. "Is this too tight?"

"Nah." Vin's quiet rasp held a deep note of undisguised pain.

"You tell me the truth now."

"Hurt's… like… hell… but reckon… ain't much… ta be… done."

"All right, all right." Nathan huffed, unhappy to have to cause Vin more pain in order to help him. "You just let me know iffen you start having trouble breathin.'"

A light chuckle escaped the still pale lips, quickly turning into a harsh cough that ripped through Vin like a knife. "Ahhh!"

"Shit." Chris's muttered curse of empathy sounded in Vin's ear as the gunslinger held him a touch tighter.

"Gonna need some more of that tea, Buck." Nathan's order was quickly followed by the ladies' man, overly eager to have something else to occupy his mind and time.

Nathan returned to the task at hand as Vin's coughing eased up and the harsh breathing evened out.

Over the next half hour each of the others lent a hand where they could, fetching fresh bedding, fixing up clean bandages, heating broth, and helping to make the patient more comfortable by propping him up with some pillows. Through it all Vin just acquiesced, muttering a quiet 'thanks' here and there.

Chris knew it was hard enough for him when he was rendered helpless by injury or sickness and realized it had to be equally, if not even more, troubling for the self-sufficient tracker. It hurt him to watch Vin stiffen from the touch of the others, knowing the reaction wasn't only from the pain, but a lifetime of wariness.

Vin tried his best not to react to their touches and fussing, allowing his mind to wander and sift through the faint memories that drifted through his mind like leaves on a gentle autumn breeze. Finally managing to catch a few of the images and put them together, he had a general idea of what had happened. And along with the memories came the questions again. Despite the sudden urgency he felt welling up within him and the racing of his heart he managed to keep his voice low and calm. He had to know what had happened.

"Are they okay?"

The question seemed harmless enough and four of the men in the room practically ignored it. Josiah was just bringing in some fresh water. Ezra and JD were off in the corner of the room, quietly talking. And Nathan, though he had heard the question, was just trying to gently placate the obviously still concussed patient.

"You just lay back and rest right now, Vin. There'll be time 'nuff to answer all yo questions later." Nathan spoke, never really looking at Vin, as he continued to re-dress the gash on the left side of the tracker's head.

The only two people who seemed to have even heard the quiet question were the two men who had heard it before.

Buck and Chris shared a look from across the room. Chris still hovered near Vin's bedside while Buck was steeping some medicinal herbs for more tea. The ladies' man's hand was frozen mid-dunk as the question continued to ring within his head. Both men still unsure of how to handle the situation, or more so, the question that the simple inquiry brought up.

Vin had turned to watch, Chris knowing that would be his best chance at getting the truth, but his eyesight had yet to clear enough for him to discern his best friend's expression. Not that it mattered because with the way the blonde's body had stiffened at the question and the sudden turn of the gunslinger's head to share some unseen look with Buck, Vin had seen enough. Something was wrong. Something that both Buck and Chris didn't want to tell him or say out loud. Well, if they were worried about worrying him, it was too late because their strange reactions had already said too much.

Chris stared down at the questioning blue eyes that met his gaze. And even without the eyes being fully focused the message was clear. Vin knew something was wrong.

Vin felt the room spin as the medicinal tea's effects melded with a sudden overwhelming sense of fear and dread. Something must have happened to the woman and her son. Those good people who had taken him into their home and cared for him. The kindly young woman who had tended him and kept him from the clutches of death itself had somehow been hurt, or worse. Vin's mind whirled with the possibilities. All of the snow and the cold. The woman had gone somewhere and Vin had been left alone with the boy. He had given his word to stay with the boy and look out for him. Obviously he had failed.

"Oh god." The strangled whisper leaked from the tracker's lips. "Somethin' happened to them." It wasn't a question and once again those trusting blue eyes looked for answers from his best friend. "Please tell me."

Chris was so caught by the pain in Vin's voice and the raw fear and guilt that poured from the clouded blue eyes that he never even noticed that the new query had gained everyone else's attention.

A war raged within Chris Larabee. What should he do? How should he proceed?

Unfortunately he never got the chance to answer the question as Nathan took over the questioning.

Nathan had pushed the first question aside, chalking it up to the head injury or the fever. Possibly a little of both. But Vin's persistence and the look in the young man's eyes had him worried. Maybe there was more wrong than he realized.

Something about Vin's last outburst bothered the healer. Chris and Buck were still acting odd and the healer was beginning to worry about the state of his patient's mental health. "Vin, do you remember what happened to ya?"

It took a second for Vin to tear his gaze away from the dark form he knew to be Chris, but with no answers forthcoming he decided to play along with Nathan until he could get some real answers.

"I's just headed up to the caves up at Arista de la Amistad …" Vin's eyes darted in Chris's direction for a split second before he continued, wondering if anyone would catch what he had named this particular ridge or its true meaning. "…when Peso slipped and I went over the side. Woke up and somehow made my way up to the caves."

Vin started coughing again and Nathan helped him to drink some of tea that Buck hurried over with. Chris had strangely backed out of the way, not even offering to help.

Everyone figured that was pretty much the end of Vin's story, for it was in those caves that they had found him, but Buck and Chris watched and waited. Unsure of what Vin might say next.

Finally getting himself composed, Vin started once again. "I's figuring to die there. Next thing I remember I's wandering out in the snow. Couldn't see a damn thing other than white everywhere. Not sure how I got there or even where there was. Musta gotten up and just wandered off."

"But…" JD made an attempt to interrupt Vin's story, not sure what was going on. But a side glare from Nathan quickly silenced the young sheriff.

"'member a light and I's walkin' toward it. Then I must a passed out again."

Nathan noted the 'again' and wondered what else the patient was leaving out but he kept silent, suddenly intrigued by the strange tale.

"Next time I woke up I's in some cabin. Hard to say, it's all still a bit fuzzy, but there was a lady there and her son. She said they found me out wandering about. Said her husband was away. They's there all alone. Took good care of me." Once again the woman's name eluded him. "Can't quite… She told me her name but…" Huffing out a small breath of frustration he moved on with his story, hoping the name would come to him. "The cabin seemed small, but real cozy. Smelled of spiced cider and pine. And she smelled like spring flowers. She spoke kind of funny and her boy… Don't know much about 'em ceptin' he's just a little feller and she called him laddie."

As his fear of what might have befallen his kind saviors once again overtook him Vin's tone became pleading. "They looked after me. The boy, he sat with me whilst his maw was gone. I promised to stay with 'em. I just couldn't stay awake. Should have been able to protect them."

Vin squeezed his eyes shut as the pounding behind his eyes grew in intensity. He had tried his best to keep it at bay or at least ignore it, but now it was impossible as the room began to swim and the world around him started to dim.

"I'd a died iffen it weren't for… Lizbeth." The last words trailed off and the remembered name was more of a breath as Vin lost his battle with consciousness. The combination of his injuries and the tea was more than the weakened man could take as he drifted off.

Chris, who had backed up away from the bed at the beginning of Vin's tale, unable to get a handle on his own swirling emotions, was suddenly awakened from his own disturbing images when Vin's words trailed off. Even though the name, 'Lizbeth', still echoed in his mind and a cold chill swept through him, his fear immediately changed direction.

"Vin?"

Nathan was already checking his patient. "He's just resting. Done wore his self plumb out with all that talking." Scratching at his head as he straightened up he added. "Must be that knock to the head's just got him a bit addled. Don't think it's nothing permanent though. He seems alright otherwise."

The relief Chris felt at Nathan's words did little to settle his worries. There was just too much to be concerned about.

"That must have surely been quiet an elaborate hallucination our young friend envisioned during his infirmity?" Ezra's tone held a hint of curiosity as his keen eyes observed Chris and Buck's strange reactions to Vin's narrative. The two of them were obviously holding something back from the group. Maybe he would just watch and wait.

However, Ezra had not been the only one to notice as JD voiced his own concerns. "What's going on, Buck?"

"What?" Of all the men, JD had been the last one he had been worried about noticing anything amiss. His attempt to sound innocent did little good. "What do ya mean, kid?"

"Oh, come off it. All of you have been trying to teach me to be more observant. Both Vin and Ezra have showed me ways to read people. And the whole time Vin was telling his wild tale you looked like you were about to have kittens. And Chris would of backed right out of the room if there hadn't been a wall there to stop him."

If it had been any other situation than this Buck would have been busting his buttons with pride at JD's observations and how well the kid was learning. But it wasn't and right now he could have just strangled him for it.

Not wanting the young sheriff to take all of the heat, Josiah voiced his own concerns. "It would appear that both you and brother Chris have been a bit edgy ever since we arrived."

"Yeah, and you didn't seem to want to answer my questions before either." Nathan chimed in. "And now Vin makes up this whole tale about some woman in a cabin named Lizbeth that supposedly took care of him until we arrived. Which we all know ain't true."

Chris cut a glance at Buck that could have frozen water. This was not going well at all.

Buck met his oldest friend's stare for a moment before he made a decision. These men had stood by each other through hell and worse. If anyone deserved to hear the truth it was them. Besides, maybe they could offer some insight that he and Chris couldn't quite grasp. This whole thing had him rattled to his very core and he couldn't even begin to imagine how Chris felt.

"Vin told us, well, he asked us when he woke up…"

"Buck!" The growl from beside the bed had the ladies' man conjuring up a pretty hard glare of his own.

"They're our friends, Chris. And they're Vin's friends, too. They have a right to know what's going on."

Chris knew Buck was right, but he just couldn't stay here and listen to this fabrication. Even when his heart was nearly pleading with him to believe, to give it a second thought, his head was practically screaming for him to run.

"Fine. But I ain't sticking around for this nonsense." With the words said, Chris made his way around the bed and out the door.

Everyone else stood in stunned silence, unsure of what had just happened. Buck stared after his friend with a look of sorrow. This was sure one big hornets nest being stirred up. There was no backing out now though as he glanced around the room at his friends, no, his family. They were waiting for an explanation and, by god, they deserved one. Taking a deep breath he began his own tale.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Chris's boots crunched through the newly fallen snow as he made his way away from the clinic. It was still predawn and the town lay quiet. He didn't even know where he was going, only that he had to get away. But from what he wasn't sure. From Vin, who was having delusions about a woman named Lizbeth and her son she called laddie? From Buck, who seemed to have it in his mind that somehow Vin had spent the holiday with ghosts? Or was he just running from himself. His own doubts and fears.

Looking up as steps appeared before him he realized that he was once again outside of the church. It made some sense. It was one place he could go to be alone for the moment. There was little doubt the others would be occupied at the moment with Buck's tales of spirits, angels, or delusions.

Chris had believed it too at first, that somehow the spirits of his wife and son had come back to look after Vin. It was strangely comforting to think that they had led him to his injured brother in time to save his life. It was the miracle he had hoped for, even prayed for. But then as Vin had once again recounted his tale of the young woman who had cared for him, told of the smell of pine and cider, and the young boy who had sat by his side, Chris's hope was overpowered by anger. How dare Vin say those things? Painful reminders of things he had lost and would never see again stabbed his gut with a power beyond sickening and his mind screamed in denial.

His wife and son were dead and buried and nothing could bring them back. Stomping up the stairs and moving through the door with sharp, anger-driven movements, he made his way to the back pew and sat down heavily, not caring if he ever moved again.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Vin slept on, oblivious to the men around him, as the others stared at Buck with looks ranging from quiet contemplation to outright shock. JD still needed a lot of work on his poker face. The room had grown deathly quiet as Buck ended his story. Each man not sure what to say or what to believe. This whole scenario seemed beyond what was earthly possible and yet each of them had secretly prayed in their own way for some miracle to save their lost friend. Was it so hard for these hardened men to believe that they might have gotten an answer?

"So, you're saying that Chris's wife and son, well, their ghosts were with Vin while he was…" Nathan was still trying to wrap his mind around the concept.

Ezra was not so mystified. He understood exactly what Buck was suggesting. The only thing that remained was whether or not he believed it. "I believe Mr. Wilmington is alluding to the idea that Mr. Tanner, while lying very near death in that cavern, was entertaining angels. And that those said angels were Mr. Larabee's lost family."

"I know how it sounds," Buck defended. "Don't think I don't. It's just that…"

"The horse tracks." JD's outburst had the others looking at him like he had just sprouted horns.

"What?" Buck's irritation at being interrupted was evident.

"Back when we found Peso. I didn't understand it. It looked like someone had tied him there, but there weren't any tracks."

"What do you mean there weren't any tracks. I saw them myself. What…" Buck didn't have time for the kid's nonsense but was quickly cut off by the young man's terse shout.

"No, dammit." JD's sudden anger at not being listened to faded away as he continued. "There were tracks for Peso, but no other. I said it looked like he had been tied there but that means there should have been footprints and there wasn't. Not a one. I thought it was really strange, but no one was listening to me at the time and Chris just rode off."

Each man took a few moments to let JD's words sink in. It had been an unusual search.

"And when we got there, Nathan, you said yourself that Vin had no pulse that you could find. Who's to say that he wasn't dead or at least in another place and time?" Buck had been thinking a lot about this. "Chris didn't know where Vin had gone. We all just followed him, thinking he knew where he was going, but how could he? Vin didn't say where he was going and he knows every nook and cranny around here. He could have been in any of a hundred different places, but Chris led us right to him."

"Mr. Larabee himself admitted his own bafflement and that somehow he just knew which way to go." Ezra found himself agreeing with Buck's line of thinking.

"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. Hebrews 13:2." Josiah's deep rumbling voice filled the room and a cold chill ran down each of the other's spines. "Who are we, as mere mortals, to question the ways of God? I, for one, am just thankful that the Lord above saw fit to return our lost lamb unto the fold. I'd like to believe that this was a Christmas miracle sent to us at this holy time."

"Quite a present," JD remarked quietly.

"And Mr. Larabee?" Ezra, for one, was wondering just how this astounding revelation was going to affect their leader.

"I don't know." Buck's honest answer was full of sadness. "I thought he believed it too. Thought maybe he was okay with the idea, but now…"

"It's a lot for him to take in." Nathan wasn't afraid to admit to himself that had he been in Chris's shoes he might have been just as doubtful, even angry. "I mean, the man has spent the last week or so mourning the loss of his family and now to think they came back, but to look after Vin?" The healer's head shook slightly as he battled his own doubts.

A soft moan from the bed drew everyone's attention. Buck was quick to slide to the bedside of the injured man, instantly rethinking his decision to explain all of this in the clinic. What if Vin had heard him? Anxiously he hovered as Nathan checked the tracker over.

"He's still asleep." An almost collective sigh ran through the room. How in the world were they going to explain all of this to Vin? Not telling him was not an option. The perceptive young man would know that something was amiss.

"Look, why don't you fellas go on over to the saloon and grab some breakfast. Inez said she was going to cook us up a feast and we'd better be hungry."

"I don't think I should leave again…" Nathan's protest was quickly stifled.

"That is, unless you want to stick around and help me explain all of this to Vin." Buck's questioning glare did the trick.

Ezra and JD were already heading out the door.

"Maybe we should wait until he's feeling better?" Nathan was still concerned for Vin's health. "Maybe he won't even remember it at all the next time he wakes up."

"My luck just doesn't seem to run that way lately." The resignation in Buck's voice made him seem much older than his true years. "He'll ask again and somebody needs to tell him the truth. And since Chris ain't here, I guess that'd be me."

"I'll help you if you like, brother." It wasn't that he really wanted to but Josiah had to at least make the offer.

A tired smile rose on the rogue's face. "I 'preciate that Josiah, I surely do. But I don't reckon this is gonna sit too well with Vin and he's not one for being crowded at good times."

"All right, but you know we're here."

"And if…"

"And if there's any change, I'll yell." Buck grinned, finishing the healer's customary instructions.

"Just keep a close eye on him. Don't let him go gettin' upset or moving around too much. Don't want that fever coming back." Nathan's worried tone struck Buck and he began to realize just what a burden his job could be. Dealing with ornery patients, worried relatives, and the possibility that no matter what he did, it just might not be enough.

"Don't you worry none. Buck Wilmington's on the job and if anyone knows how to keep a body in the bed it's ole Buck." The wink and roguish smile that accompanied the ladies' man's brash statement brought a lightening to the tightness around Nathan's eyes and a genuine smile broke through. It warmed the big man's heart to see his intent fulfilled.

"Now you just watch how you attempt to keep that one in the bed. He's slippery, ya know." Nathan gave his own roguish grin before following Josiah out of the clinic. The sound of both men's laughter echoed as they drifted away. Buck was just glad he could ease their strain a little with laughter. Turning back toward the still form on the bed he felt a shiver run down his spine.

Did he really believe what he had told the others? Did he really think that Vin had been cared for by the spirits of Sarah and Adam? Despite his sainted mother's harsh life and the unpleasant turns it had taken, she had always been a woman of faith. There were times to this day that Buck didn't always understand that. How a woman who had suffered some of the indignities and treatment he knew she had could still believe in God and his gentle mercies. In fact he had asked her once that very thing and her answer had not only surprised him, but followed him through his very days. Her words still echoed within his heart.

"Every time I look at you, my special child, I know there is a God and that he loves me because he blessed me with your smiling face."

That strength of faith, even in the light of adversity, had been something he had also seen in another special woman. The very lady that had captured his best friend's heart so many years ago. Sarah had carried her faith with strength and conviction, not overbearing, but uplifting in its certainty.

Watching Vin as he slept Buck found his own faith strengthened. A higher power had been at work or his friend would not be alive at this moment. And if anyone had the strength of faith to come back from death itself to affect the lives of her loved ones, it would be Sarah Larabee.

It made so much more sense to him again, but just how was he going to explain it to Vin? And, more importantly, how would Vin take it? Sitting down in the chair by the bedside he wiped his hand down his tired face. This was definitely going to be a long day.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Chris had no idea how much time had passed as he remained seated on the back pew, but the sound of the door opening behind him did not garner the reaction of a hardened gunslinger. Partly because he knew the heavy tread too well. And mostly because he was just too bone tired to care. It wasn't just his physical body that felt as if it had been trampled by a runaway horse. Somehow his very soul had gotten caught and relentlessly battered. Without the energy to flee Josiah's company and with an underlying need for someone with a more spiritual outlook to explain all of the latest happenings to him, he sat and waited, just as he had been since sitting down.

Josiah had finished with the wonderful breakfast that Inez had made for all of them and had also spent some time on another task that he and Nathan had discussed before he made his way back toward the little rundown chapel he called home. The extra room in the back served as his living quarters and housed some of the residuals of his life. Books on different religions and foreign lands were housed beside some of the more classical works of literature. And each was now proudly housed within his new bookcase. He had wanted to do a bit of reading before taking a short nap.

At breakfast they had all speculated quietly about Chris and where he might have gone, Nathan hoping the leader was getting some much needed rest. But even with their worry, none had felt the desire to seek out the man; unsure if they were up to the task of dealing with the swirling emotional state the gunslinger most assuredly was in. Now it seemed as if providence had deemed Josiah the lucky candidate.

The dark figure sitting hunched on the back pew held little immediate resemblance to the fearless gunslinger that Josiah had come to know over the last months. Tempting fate he sat down on the pew beside his friend. He would wait to see if Chris wanted to talk and give him some idea of the direction of his thoughts.

The silence remained for nearly five minutes before finally being broken by the dark gunslinger.

"Don't feel like talking."

More silence followed that statement, Josiah waiting patiently.

"I guess Buck told you about…" Somehow Chris couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. In fact he wasn't even sure how to word it. The whole thing seemed so unreal and yet so right at the same time. His contrasting emotions were what he was having the most trouble with.

"Yes, he did." It was all Josiah said, still waiting for more insight into what was really bothering Chris. Somehow a lack of faith didn't seem to be the entire problem.

Once again silence descended on the tiny chapel, the cool air within causing both men's breaths to come in small clouds.

The warmth Chris first felt at the thought of Sarah and Adam once again being a part of his life, even for an instant, had now begun to give way to a deep sadness that they were still lost to him. But what had him totally confused was his anger.

He had spent many years angry. Angry at the world for its callous disregard for human life and decency. Angry at himself for not being able to stop the deaths of his family. Angry at God for allowing the loss of two such good and innocent souls. This time his anger was directed in a totally unexpected direction. Chris was mad at Vin. And what really had him totally confused was that he wasn't even completely sure why.

One moment he thought it was because of what had happened, the fight and the tracker riding off into the wilderness. Then he'd think it was because his best friend had gotten himself hurt and nearly died on him. And yet that didn't seem to be the true root of the problem.

It wasn't just the uneasy quiet that got to Chris or the infuriating patience of the man beside him. It was the raging emotions within that couldn't seem to wait.

"Do you believe it?"

Josiah didn't even think about it before he answered. "Yes, I do believe it's possible."

That hadn't exactly been the answer Chris had been seeking, but then again it hadn't been the real question he had wanted to ask.

"How's Vin?"

"He was still sleeping when we left. Buck is sitting with him."

That admission did garner a sideways glance from the gunslinger.

"Brother Buck decided that someone would need to answer our young friend's worries about the good Samaritans who saw to his welfare."

Chris turned his gaze away as a stab of guilt hit directly in his gut. Shouldn't he be the one to tell Vin? But how could he when he was still so unsure of what he felt?

More silence that seemed like it was alive with unanswered questions and unspoken fears followed. Finally Josiah figured that since Chris still seemed unready to unburden himself that answering the gunslinger's first question would be a way to start.

"There are cultures that believe that the people in our lives who have passed on continue to watch over those whom they have loved in life, that the strong emotional ties cannot be broken by death alone. In my travels I have witnessed many unexplainable things and consider myself to be a man with an open mind." Pausing to let his words sink in he continued.

"Then there is the question of miracles. I have seen a few. Most were simple things to most but miracles to me. Each person must decide for himself about miracles. I think it was a miracle that we found Vin and that he still lives. Nathan himself said that with the weather, his injuries, and the exposure he should not have made it, but he did. And now Vin claims to have been cared for the entire time by someone or something when we all know he was in that cave all alone most of the night."

"He was dead." The whispered words were nearly lost in the room, but Josiah caught them along with the emotional strain that accompanied the statement.

"Yes, Nathan believes that too. He says Vin had no heartbeat when we arrived." Josiah admitted what the healer had confided to him earlier when they had discussed Buck's account of Vin's experience. "Maybe Vin was attended to, but not in the physical sense."

"Are you saying instead of them coming to him, he went to them?" That thought, while it helped Chris to find Vin's story more plausible, also sent a cold shiver down his spine. The thought that Vin had actually been dead and gone was not something he wanted to dwell on.

"There have been others who have spoken of and written of passing over and seeing things, of seeing people, who have gone before."

Chris was trying to remember what had led him to Vin on that mountain. Though he knew he had dreamed something, he could not recall exactly what. But just trying brought feelings of warmth and sadness. Those were the ones he tied to his wife and son. And yet the first dream, the one that had somehow warned him that Vin might be in trouble, was still vivid. Part memories, part dream, he could still see his wife and son, just like it had only happened yesterday.

"I dreamed…" Chris hesitated for a moment before continuing. Telling Buck was one thing, but to admit his thoughts and feelings to someone else, even Josiah, was hard. "I knew Vin was in trouble. I dreamed of Sarah and Adam. It was just like before, with Christmas time in our home. But Vin was there and then he was gone, they were gone, all of it, gone. That's when I woke up and I knew he was in trouble."

"Well it's no secret to us that you and Vin have some type of connection that defies logic." Josiah grinned knowingly. It was something they all liked to tease the two men about.

"She was a strong woman." Chris's mind kept centering back on his lost wife. Had she really come back? He had felt her or at least the sense of strength she used to instill in him with her powerful companionship. Back on that mountain when his doubts had nearly won he had felt her faith in God and her fellow man rejuvenate him, body and soul. Renewing his own faith and pushing him forward to finding Vin.

"Most people saw her as sweet and kind, which she was, but she had such a powerful spirit. So full of life. She had a way of just fortifying you with her presence alone. And an Irish temper that could fell trees with just a look. You think I've got a glare, just ask Buck about hers." A tiny smile graced Chris's lips with the memory of the petite woman he loved, hands planted firmly on her hips and her dark eyes throwing sparks. "She could cut me down to size with just a look. And Adam was so much like her."

Josiah listened quietly. Never had Chris spoken so of his wife and son. Though he found it very insightful, he also believed that it was more vital that Chris sort it all out.

"If there was any way for it to be done, if anyone could come back…" Chris swallowed hard. He wanted to believe, but other things, other emotions, were getting in the way.

"Why now? Why Vin?"

Chris stood up suddenly as the anger swept through him like a raging fire. He hadn't meant to say that. How could he ever say that? Storming up the aisle he stared up at the cross before him as the next words poured from him with venom and frustration.

"Why didn't she come to me? It's not fair. God, I loved her so. I still do. Why couldn't she and Adam come to me? Why Vin and why now?" Angry green eyes searched before him as his rage spilled out, seeking vengeance for the pain he couldn't understand. The object he found before him only fueled the fire and snapped the last fragile ounce of control he had on his emotions. Striking out with pain, loss, and rage he kicked out, the worn black boot sending the wooden object before him flying backwards into the wall, turning it over. The manger Vin had made rocked noisily from the assault, filling the sanctuary with its eerie noise.

Josiah had sat unsure whether he should intervene and knowing the wrong move could prove dangerous for both parties. The fear and rage had poured from the lean frame as the shaking voice and angry words had erupted from the dark leader verifying what the large preacher had begun to suspect. Chris was angry at Vin.

Staring at the manger as it rocked noisily back and forth before settling, Chris felt his anger recede and shame take its place. There was only a small sense of relief that the carefully constructed piece had seemingly withstood his anger intact. This wasn't Vin's fault and yet he blamed him. He was angry at his best friend, not just for nearly dying, but he was angry that Vin had been visited by his wife and son and he hadn't.

Or had he?

The memory of a river and Sarah's soft smile came to him. They had walked by that river near their cabin many times. Warm summer afternoons spent near the water's edge, a barefoot nymph playing along the water's edge, daring him with her sparkling eyes to join her. Such a lust for life and the joys it could bring. An iron will wrapped up with a heart full of love and hope. She had been his sunshine on cloudy days. And then she had expanded his world, his horizons, by giving him the most precious of gifts, a son as warm and loving as she.

One of the hardest things for Chris to come to grips with had been the fading of the mental pictures he held within his mind. Just about every piece of his life had been lost in the fire and slowly over time, so were the images of his wife and son. He could remember their hair color, their eyes, and so many of the little things that made them both unique. But like the pictures he had kept with him whenever he left home his memory had not been able to withstand the tests of time. If only he had a photograph or painting to remind him.

The memories felt fresher now, like he had just walked with her the day before. The mental picture of both her and Adam was as clear as if he had just left them for the trip. But that was impossible. Was he losing his mind completely? First to believe that Vin had been cared for by the ghosts of his lost family and next to believe that he too had been with his wife. Thinking hard some of the images from his dreams returned, as if to clarify that he wasn't crazy and that miracles were possible. Visions of a snow covered plain and footsteps leading to a cabin nestled in the middle of nowhere and then the river with his beautiful wife.

"I miss you." The whisper left his lips, jarring his memory. Sarah's voice filled his head with a ghostly message.

'But I am always with you. Right in 'ere. Adam and I are always with you.'

Reaching up Chris pressed his right hand hard against his chest, the beat of his heart thumping out a rhythm against his palm.

Josiah watched in silent fascination at the scene before him. Watching as Chris's own internal battle with his emotions and faith played out like a drama on a stage. The dark leader's face shadowing the mixture of emotions as they played through his mind and his heart.

Suddenly Chris remembered that he wasn't alone. He felt naked. His personal demons laid bare for the world and this too made him angry. Wiping all vestiges of the warm memories he had just felt from his mind and resettling into the hardened and callous man the world knew, he stalked toward the back of the church, stopping only for a second to snarl out his intentions.

"I'm going to my room to get some sleep."

And with that said he was gone. The sound of his duster flapping through the back doors just before it slammed shut was like a sign of the closing of his heart.

Josiah felt dizzy with the sudden turn of events. Chris was like a hot tub of water that was suddenly cooled with ice. It amazed and frightened him at how easily his leader turned off his emotions or at least changed them. Getting up slowly from the back pew he made his way toward the altar to say another prayer for Vin's recovery, adding a quiet petition for some divine enlightenment for a certain man in black.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

A low groan was the signal Buck had been awaiting and fearing all at the same time. Other than a few weak movements, Vin had been completely still, almost troublingly so. But with the twitching eyelids and the hands knotting into the blanket, Buck knew the time had come. Vin was waking up.

Maybe he wouldn't even remember all of the gibberish he had spoken of earlier. Like a dream that is vivid upon awakening but then fades with the dawning of the day. Well, one could hope.

Getting up from the chair he had decided might just become a part of his anatomy before long, Buck moved to the stove to pour a cup of tea and some broth. Talking to Vin would be only second to making sure the injured man was taken care of physically. Nathan had warned but good that things were still iffy and every measure needed to be taken to ensure that Vin recovered his strength.

By the time he returned to the bedside, two half-mast blue eyes peered up at him with confusion.

"Bu… Buck… lin?" The naturally raspy voice had lowered another couple of octaves and taken on an even rougher sound with the worsening cold the younger man was developing.

"Hey there, pardner!" Buck winced in sympathy with the other man's obvious discomfort. "You just let ole' Buck here set ya up a bit and we'll get some of this here tea in ya to help drown that there bullfrog you got lodged in your throat."

Moving to help Vin sit up, he stuffed an extra pillow behind for some added support. The quiet hiss of pain only caused his heart to beat faster. "Sorry there, Vin. I know ya ain't likely got a spot on ya that ain't a bit sore at the moment."

"S' okay," Vin rasped out with teeth still tightly gritted. "Ain't your fault I fell off a ma horse."

Buck almost said it was, but knew now was not the time for that particular discussion. He would be sure and make his apologies for his interference when Vin was up for it.

After a slow and arduous process, Buck managed to get half of the tea and a few sips of broth down the grumbling patient's throat. Of course that was after cooling the broth some after Vin's raspy query as to whether or not the rogue was trying to scald the poor frog to death.

Finally getting the necessities out of the way, including convincing the reluctant young man to allow some assistance as he sat on the side of the bed to relieve himself. Buck sat back down in the straight back chair with a quiet humph. Stealing a glance at Vin he wondered if the tracker was asleep. The features, though still pale, looked somewhat relaxed though that was in comparison to the agony of just moving to sit up, speak, or take a few sips of tea before.

"What's on ya mind?"

Had he been standing, Buck was certain he would have jumped ten feet in the air. Even with him lying right there beside him, Vin could startle him right out of his thoughts. The eyes had yet to open, but it was obvious that Vin was not only awake, but very aware. With no trouble at all he had surmised that something was weighing heavily on the rogue's mind.

Buck just sat there, unsure how to begin. Vin hadn't even asked about the people who had cared for him and he was unsure whether he should bring it up. But he had to say something and fast.

Vin waited patiently despite his weariness. From the minute he had awakened something about the look in Buck's eyes and the overly jovial nature had set the hairs on his neck at attention. Something was definitely wrong, but what, he didn't know. It did seem a touch odd that he was here alone with just Buck to tend him. Not that he was complaining, but it just felt… off. Slitting his eyes slightly he peered at the uncomfortable figure beside the bed and felt his heart flutter.

"What's wrong? Is it Chris? Did something happen to one of the boys?" Vin's voice rose in volume as the strong sense that the boys had been in trouble surfaced somewhere at the edge of his subconscious. A strong desire to help surged through him and he sat up, crying out in pain as his wounds protested the movement with a sickening reminder.

"Whoa there, pard." Buck was jarred from his own thoughts as Vin's questions flew and a cry of pain rent the air. Moving quickly he grabbed the patient's shoulders and gently guided him to lie back against the pillows.

Vin's mind spiraled with murky images of the cabin as the sound of Lizbeth's voice rang in his ears.

'Your friends are in trouble, Vin. They need you. How can you just leave them like this? Chris needs your help,Vin! You have to help him!'

"She said… she said ya's in trouble. Chris needed my… help. Can't… letcha down." As the memories resurfaced and the fear within him grew, it became harder to breathe.

Buck hadn't planned on things taking such a turn and Vin's harsh breathing began to scare him. "You need to calm down now. We're all just fine. Chris is… well, he's fine too. Don't get yourself all worked up for nothing." As if as an afterthought, the rogue realized exactly what Vin had said. 'She said…'

Well if that wasn't an intro he wasn't sure what would be? "She told you we were in trouble? Who, Vin? Who told you that?"

Vin sat back, working hard to get his breathing under control before answering Buck's questions. "Lizbeth. She said I had to hang on, to fight, because ya'll was in trouble. That ya needed me to help ya. Course she also said ya's comin' for me, too." It didn't all quite make sense in his mind, but then again he had been pretty sick at the time. What he was sure of was that Lizbeth had taken care of him, nursed him, and helped him to survive until the others had come for him.

It was just as Buck had imagined. Somehow this Lizbeth or Sarah or whoever had helped Vin to keep fighting until help could arrive. "Sounds like she was a real nice lady. I know I'm grateful that she was there to look after you."

The sudden turn in the conversation did not deter Vin from his earlier quest. "So, if Chris is okay and the boys are fine then what's wrong? You've had something on yer mind since I woke up." Vin looked up to search Buck's face, trying to gauge the seriousness of the problem, another fear striking a cord in his heart. "Is it them, Lizbeth and the boy? Did somethin' happen?"

Buck looked down at the worried face, ashen except for the slight flush of the cheeks. What was he supposed to say?

When nothing seemed to be forthcoming Vin prodded. "Just spit it out."

Could it be that easy? Buck wanted nothing more than to just spit it all out and be done with it, but it wasn't that simple. This wasn't like telling someone that the girl he had been sweet on for months was cattin' around with someone else or that the money you'd borrowed for supplies had been lost in a poker game. Both were experiences Buck was all too familiar with. This was a totally different problem all together. Yet the friendly easygoing ladies' man was one thing for sure, impatient.

"Vin, we found ya in a cave all by yourself. Twern't another soul around for miles and miles. You's near froze to death when we finally got to you. Damnit, I thought for sure you were dead. Nathan couldn't find a heartbeat and Chris…" A crack in the big man's composure leaked out as a vision of Chris Larabee cradling Vin's body flashed through his mind. Swallowing hard he worked to push the memory back into the dark recesses of his mind where similar visions dwelled. "We found your hat where you fell and Chris led us right to you up on that ridge. Said you'd been there before together. There was no one else there."

Buck waited, hoping his words were sinking in to the injured man's concussed brain. So far Vin had barely blinked and it was beginning to unnerve him. The silence in the room became increasingly uncomfortable for the gregarious rogue. Used to lots of talk and activity the lack of reaction was driving him to distraction. If Vin would say something or groan or at least twitch…

Vin had sat listening to Buck's tale, taken off guard by the unrestrained emotion he had not only seen and heard, but practically felt as Buck spoke of the way he had been found and the fear that Vin had actually been dead. Dead. Had he been dead? Nothing about his memories after he had awoken that once in the cave felt quite right and yet he had been unable to find a good explanation for his discomfort. Did the others all think he was lying about the woman and the cabin?

"But they looked after me. I might 'ave been whopped in the head, but I ain't crazy. They's real. I couldn't see 'em, not real clear, seein' as how my eyes was still a bit fuzzy, but I felt her, smelled the spiced cider, the pine. She fed me and took care of me…"

Not wanting Vin to get himself all worked up again and wanting even more to move on with the other things he had yet to say, Buck tried reassuring his friend.

"Now, no one thinks you're crazy. Just let me tell you a story first and then we'll talk some more." Taking a deep breath he began the tale of Christmas in a very cozy cabin that was forever a part of his memories. "I once knew of just such a place. A beautiful little home that was all decorated up for Christmas…"

Buck spoke of decorations in every corner and pine branches adorning the windows and doorways. The handmade ornaments that decorated the tree, many made by childish hands. The way the smell of the lovingly prepared spiced apple cider filled every corner of the room. The story wound around the lovely Irish lady who commanded the homestead and the sweet young boy that she cherished as life itself. The way she practically danced around the room, all abuzz with holiday cheer, constantly humming one carol or another. It amazed him at how easily he spoke of the memories that had become so bittersweet over the last few years. This home had welcomed him with open arms and made him a better person for it.

Vin listened as Buck spoke, but at the same time he was trying to reconcile his own conflicting emotions. It had all seemed real enough, at least, as real as possible for a man suffering the fever and injuries that he had. The cabin, the kind woman and her son. Too real for just a dream. Yet something along the very edges of his mind kept speaking to him, like whispers on the wind or a vague outline of movement just outside of one's peripheral vision. Lizbeth had been there with him, so kind, so caring. Her voice had guided him from the beginning.

But as he thought and pieced together what he knew had happened, what Buck was saying made more sense. He had been headed up to the isolated ridge when he had fallen. He remembered awakening flat on his back in one of the caves along the ridge in pain and yet numb as the cold had begun to seep into his very bones. He knew that area better than just about anyone and there wasn't a cabin, a ranch, or anything anywhere in that area. Not for at least half a days ride. It was beautiful mountainous country, untamed and as yet unspoiled by man's constant need to expand his material world. That was one of the very reasons Vin was so drawn to it and especially that particular ridge. It was like a little taste of heaven.

A cold chill ran through Vin and he startled himself with his next thoughts. Suddenly it all seemed so clear. He heard Buck's words all over again. The story revealed itself within his mind and he saw the cabin, smelled the pine and spiced cider, and he heard her humming. It was just like Buck had been there with him.

"You see Vin, this woman was very special. Her momma was pure Irish and always called her… Lizbeth. And she called her son laddie. But I knew her by another name. She welcomed me into her home just like I was family. See, her husband was my best friend."

"Sarah."

Vin's whispered declaration and the dazed blue eyes that stared up at Buck made his stomach flip. Vin understood all too well what he was trying to say. Still he felt a need to clarify a few things.

"Chris's wife's name was Sarah Elizabeth Connelly Larabee. Her mother called her Lizbeth from the day she was born, but she went by Sarah, especially after her maw passed on. Sarah had just a touch of an accent too and always called Adam laddie. Chris said he never told you about it." The last bit had a bit of question in the tone and Vin glanced up, still looking a bit shell-shocked.

It was as if someone had turned up a bright lamp and the enlightenment was nearly blinding. Vin felt his whole world tilting in so many directions he could hardly keep track. Something his Indian grandmother had told him when he was young came back to him like a message through time. He could almost hear her voice as she spoke of the legends and beliefs handed down through generations. But there had been one thing that struck him now. When he had been sad and missing his own mother, this loving older lady who had literally adopted him into her own family without any hesitation had told him how she believed that the spirits of the dead often came back to visit us in our dreams. And sometimes when we were sad or sick or scared, they could cross the spirit plane and comfort us with their unending love.

Then one of his earliest memories came back to him, one of being held in his mother's warm embrace as a very small boy. The vision he held like a keepsake was more of a kaleidoscope of bits and pieces really. The feel of her arms wrapped tightly around him, the deep raspy sound of her breathing within her chest, the unnatural warmth her skin emitted. But it was her message that had stayed with him the strongest. Her sweet gentle voice was soft and raspy from the sickness. Vin had been so sick himself for weeks, but his mother had also become ill soon after. Holding him in her arms she spoke to him. 'My little one', which was what she often called him, 'ya remember and good that no matter what happens Mama will always be with ya right in here.' Her hand had then pressed tight against his chest, sealing the bond.

Still, in the early years after Vin had lost her to that very fever, it had been hard for him to hold onto that belief. A lost and lonely little boy found little comfort in the words of a mother that had seemingly abandoned him. Not until his teenage years, during his time with the People, did he begin to truly understand. Now whenever the warmth of the sun caressed his face it was as if she were once again kissing his cheek like she had so often done. When the wind lifted the hair from his forehead he could almost feel her fingers gently flicking the hair out of his eyes. And anytime the wind whistled through the trees he imagined her humming some tune as he drifted off to sleep at night. It was how he held her near and it gave him immeasurable comfort.

But this was different. He hadn't even known Sarah or Adam, their deaths having come years before he had even heard of their existence. So why would they have come to him? Why would they have helped him in his time of need? It was all absolutely unbelievable, but at the same time it made a strange sort of sense. It was almost as if the entire memory of his time with Lizbeth hinged on some unspoken truth and this was it. Vin had been tended to by the spirits of his best friend's lost family.

Buck had watched the play of emotions blaze a trail through Vin's expressive blue eyes. For all that Vin hid beneath a rough and rugged exterior, those expressive eyes of his spoke volumes to the deep heart and soul that lay within. Just as the rogue knew when the shock of realization dawned on the tracker, he was equally sure when a strange sort of acceptance swept through his friend.

"I know it's a lot to take in all at once. The first time you started asking about a woman and a boy I just thought you were still just a bit addled, but then you started describing things that were straight from the days I remembered. Gotta say though, the clincher was the name. It's not that I haven't known other gals called Elizabeth or Lizbeth, but the accent and laddie. I mean, it was downright scary."

Another thought came to Vin and he felt his gut clench. "Chris? He knows? 'bout what I said, what I asked?"

Vin already knew the answer. It was the odd look on Chris's face that he hadn't been able to discern when the gunslinger had looked at him earlier. There had been concern there, but something else. Something he hadn't been able to place. Not until now. There had been genuine fear there and even a touch of anger. Now so much made more sense. Why Buck was here and why Chris wasn't.

There were so many things that sprang to Buck's mind at Vin's questions. 'He's off being an ass when he should be the one here telling you this instead of me.' Or. 'He believed it before but now he's changed his mind.' Or the all popular. 'Yep, he heard ya, but he's too busy living in the past to see that he's got a future he could lose just as easily.'

What he said instead without flat out lying was, "He's been up all night and went to get some sleep. We practically had to chase him out." Which wasn't a total lie, he had certainly chased Chris away by deciding to tell the others.

Vin saw through it but said nothing. He was feeling very tired all of a sudden. Somehow he didn't feel up to dealing with Larabee and his past at the moment. Even as the thought that Sarah and Adam had saw fit to look after him gave him a strange sense of peace, his own worry for Chris and his pain stole it away, leaving him feeling weaker of body and spirit.

"Bit tired now." That was all Vin said as his eyes drifted shut and sleep claimed him.

Buck still sat, unsure what else to do. He had done the dreaded deed and all in all it hadn't been too bad. Vin now knew what they did, believed what they did, at least as best he could tell. Though the tracker was well known to be a man of few words the rogue had at least hoped for a little more of a reaction. And there was something about Vin's last question about Chris and the weary look in the blue eyes just before they had closed that had him worried. He needed to talk to Chris and as soon as Nathan got back that was exactly what he was going to do.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Chris Larabee was a man on a mission as he stormed through the boarding house and up to his room. Although, at the moment he wasn't sure what that mission was, short of getting away from everyone and everything. Going to his shack would have been his first choice and it had taken a monumental effort not to head straight for the livery instead of his rented room. Slamming the door behind him he stood rigid and drank in the cold quiet room. It was his only haven at the moment and he would take what he could get. Pulling off his duster and the jacket he also wore beneath he slung them over the chair by the bed.

He was beyond tired and knew he needed to sleep, but his heart was racing almost as fast as his mind. This was insane and he was just as crazy for buying in to it. Fever dreams. That's all it was. All it could have been. And yet if he really believed that why was he still mad at Vin? Why did he feel so cheated?

Sitting down hard on the bed he pulled off his boots with gusto, then flung himself back to lie on the bed. His head was throbbing and the knot on the side of his head made itself known as his head sank into the pillow. Images whirled in his mind of Sarah and Adam. Of Christmases past and times lost forever. Even as his anger grew, the weariness of his body caught up with him and he drifted off into an exhausted dreamless sleep.

It felt like mere minutes had passed when a knock at his door awakened him. The vestiges of sleep still upon him, he lay still, not wishing to awaken the aches he was sure would greet him once he moved. Maybe whoever it was would go away. Damn, he was still so tired. What day was it? From the light outside it was up in the day and the frigid air in the room made him shiver. At some point he had crawled beneath the blankets but even they could not chase away the chill within.

The knock sounded again and more insistent. The slight disorientation of just awakening gave way to the memories of the last few days and all that had happened. His mind turned to worry just as the familiar voice came from outside the door.

"Chris, we need to talk." Buck had waited until Nathan had returned to the clinic more rested before he left and had even taken the time to grab something to eat before he went in search of his old friend. He had half expected to find Chris's horse gone and had checked the livery first thing, relieved to find it still there. This was not a good time for Chris to indulge his demons. Not when he was missing out on a very important message. Buck just figured it was his duty, his penance, to push his friend in the right direction.

Ignore him. That was Chris's first reaction. The last thing he wanted was a lecture and he could already feel one coming on just from the tone of Buck's voice.

"I'm not going away, so you might as well open the door." Buck waited before adding. "Unlessin' you want me to just say what I came to say out loud, right here and now."

With an overly loud groan, Chris pulled himself up out of the bed, his clothes wrinkled and twisted. Padding across to the door and tugging his clothes into a more comfortable position he flung the door open with his best glare in place. Fiery green eyes met almost as fiery blue ones in a momentary battle of wills before the leader turned and retreated back toward the bed. Sitting down he lowered his gaze to the floor below him.

Taking the cue, Buck entered the room and closed the door behind him. Looking at the weary figure slumped on the bed, he marveled at the stubbornness that was such a shared trait between Larabee and Tanner. Both silent and mulish, they were hard to deter when something got set in their heads. He wanted to tear into Chris and tell him that he was being a real ass. That Vin was over in the clinic feeling guilty.

Vin hadn't said as much, but he hadn't had to. Buck had discerned that part of the sadness he had noted in the tracker's eyes was just that, guilt. Guilt for not being able to save Chris from his own demons and now guilt for stealing a moment the gunslinger had longed for for over three years. Just one more day with his wife and son.

But after the weariness he had seen hiding behind the green glare, the worry and fear that most would never see, but that Buck was well versed in reading, he decided to pull his punches a bit. That didn't mean he wouldn't get his piece said before leaving Chris to think on his words and the choices he was making.

"I know you don't want to believe all of this. It'd be a bit hard for anyone to digest, but especially hard for you. But before you go and turn your back on it, before you turn your back on this opportunity, I just want ya to think on this. This happened for a reason." Buck swallowed hard before continuing.

"Vin was dead, but now he's back with us. He told me that Lizbeth kept him fightin'. She told him we… you were in trouble and needed him. And if there's one thing that could get that boy riled up enough to cheat death itself, it's if he thought you were needin' him to watch your back. Hell, we both know why he named that ridge where we found him what he did. Arista de la Amistad. Guess he was hoping none of us knew enough Spanish to catch that one." He paused to let his words sink in before continuing.

"I'd like to think that God was just smiling down on us, but I think it was a hell of a lot more. I think Sarah and Adam wanted to give you something special this year. And they sure did. They gave you Vin back." Buck swallowed hard as the body on the bed still sat, head lowered.

"You finished?" The low growl came without any movement from the body.

Buck felt the cold dismissal and his heart nearly broke. It was like losing Chris all over again. With what he had to say for now finished, he started to walk out, but couldn't help one last jab at the cold heart he could swear he almost heard freezing over. "And just so's ya know, Vin wasn't feeling all that good when I left him with Nathan."

Chris heard the door close, felt the slight rush of air as it was slammed slightly and his shoulders slumped even more. Vin wasn't feeling well? The thought made his heart hurt. Nathan had warned them that it wasn't over, but he hadn't really considered what that meant. It was hard enough to imagine that Vin had almost… had died. But he didn't.

Damn right he knew why Vin had named it that. Friendship Ridge. The two of them had spent a relaxing couple of days enjoying nature and each other's company when Vin had shared the special place with him. Off in that secluded spot, away from the hustle and bustle of civilization and the demands of the growing world around them, their friendship had grown. But now the fond recollections of their little retreat there were overshadowed with the searing memory of Vin's lifeless body cradled in his arms as he sat on the cold cave floor.

Feeling his resolve once again crumbling and the tears beginning to pool in his eyes he stood up abruptly, grabbing at the table beside the bed when the movement made the room spin. Then, regaining his equilibrium, he went to the small dresser in the corner and took his saddlebags down. As he rummaged through them in search of a bottle and his cheroots his hand brushed deerskin and he froze.

Vin had given Chris the handmade deerskin pouch as a present for the gunslinger's birthday. After an impromptu celebration spurred by a loose-lipped Buck Wilmington, the younger man had left the pouch outside his door. Later he had admitted that he had made it himself and just thought the gunslinger might need it to keep his special items in, such as his whiskey and smokes. But Chris had immediately decided to keep something much more precious to him within the folds of his best friend's special gift.

Slowing pulling the pouch from the bottom of his saddlebag he leaned back against the wall and slid down it to the floor. His hands shook as he held the bundle out before him.

How much time passed he wasn't sure, but the knock at the door startled him. The pouch lay within his lap, his hands just beginning to open it.

'Damnit, Buck.'

He was only halfway up when he heard JD's voice through the door. "Chris? I know you're trying to rest, but Nathan thought you should know. Vin's fever's back up."

JD wasn't surprised when the door was swung open with force and a dark form moved past him heading for the stairs with nary a word. He might be young, but he had enough sense to stay back out of the way this time. Why he kept drawing the short straw on delivering news like this he wasn't quite sure? Turning to follow after his leader he noted the lack of a coat and the pouch tucked tightly in the gunslinger's hands.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

He was so tired. Not just physically, though with the lack of sleep, the constant worry, and the arduous search it was also a part of the problem. The light nap he had been able to indulge in earlier had at the least alleviated part of his fatigue, but the constant headache that would not give him a respite was not caused solely by the impact with the tree trunk. No, there was a mental weariness that was a lot harder to solve. Not even the strongest of medicines or many a good nights' sleep could cure what ailed Chris Larabee at the moment.

It was nearly three in the morning, according to his watch. Nathan had finally lain down on the cot in the corner and was lost in exhausted slumber. Chris hoped the faithful healer could sleep until morning at the least. Not only was he too much in need of rest, but his renewed strength would be necessary to battle the invisible foe that was now at odds with one of their own.

Chris had returned to the tiny clinic after JD's urgent message to find that not only had Vin's fever returned, but an accompanying cold had set in to add to the complications. A relapse was what Nathan called it and Buck was once again blaming himself, saying he should have never spoken to the sick young man about the events and the group's suspicions.

But Chris didn't blame him, because Vin wouldn't have. Plus, he just didn't have the strength to and he had finally forced Buck off to get a good night's rest along with all of the others. The group's leader had retained control of the situation, issuing orders to keep everyone from dwelling on the possible dire outcome. And to also give them a sense that they were helping Vin in some small way, even if it was by simply making sure there was always wood just outside the door, breakfast for those who had spent the night in the clinic, and a continuous supply of fresh water for cooling the feverish patient and brewing herbal remedies.

If Nathan was right, and there was no reason to doubt him, this would be a long battle of which the outcome was yet to be written. His own doubts and fears that had been pushed aside with the renewed battle for Vin's life were once again haunting him in the deep of the night. With no one else around who was conscious and nothing to see out the window but the darkness and a faint glow created from the dying street fires as they reflected off of the lingering snowfall, his thoughts turned again to his missing loved ones. To just believe would be so easy and yet beyond hard. With the denial of any sort of miracles Chris could continue just as he had. Living life from day to day with little thought of the future or what it might hold. But if he accepted what the others had already seemed to embrace, that Sarah and Adam had intervened to alter his path, had sent Vin back from death itself, then what? Would he also have to accept that they still loved him? That despite the fact that he had failed them, had literally left them to die alone… That somehow they forgave him?

Forgiveness.

It seemed like some foreign word that no longer existed to him. But why? He had forgiven Vin.

When his best friend had been blinded by the guiles of a lonely woman in need while they were on the wagon train he had been nearly certain that he was about to lose this new life he had been unknowingly building. Though then he still had yet to understand the bonds or their impact, he had felt the loss, the betrayal, when Vin had rode off with that woman. He had later struck out in anger when he had told Vin to let him know when he could trust him again. The look in the tracker's eyes had held defiance and remorse at the same time. But he had forgiven him and it had all been forgotten. When he had watched as the wily tracker had spotted the trouble along the trail. Watched as Vin put himself in harm's way once again to defend the people of the wagon train and his brothers in arms. When his best friend had been knocked airborne by the blast of the dynamite, Chris had felt his heart leap into his throat and all of the remorse was his own. And all lingering doubt had been cast aside as the seven had once again rode together, with that woman's name or the incident never being discussed again.

Yet that wasn't the same. No one had died. No one had been left all alone. And no one had been abandoned by the very person who they had expected to protect them from harm and the inherent evil of man.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

He was here again. Floating among the mist, his body caught between the living and the dead. Vin knew this time. Because of what Buck had told him, he knew. Something was wrong though. It was cold and dark as if the mood within had changed.

"Vin?"

It was her. The voice of his dreams and the one that had led him through the darkness before.

"Lizbeth? Or maybe I should just call ya Sarah?"

"Buck always did have a big mouth."

Even though he couldn't see her or much of anything else, he felt the smile in her voice and the teasing nature of her words.

"Well, that's Bucklin for ya."

"It's time to choose. I can't help you anymore. I've already overstepped me bounds more than once."

"S'all right. You done way more than most woulda."

"But he's still so sad. So lost." Her voice changed and the tears that couldn't be on her face nearly dripped from her tone. Her sudden sadness pulled at Vin's heart.

"He misses you and Adam somethin' fierce." Despite the strangeness of it all this seemed almost natural. "Can't say as I blame 'em. You're certainly one almighty strong woman to have done what ya did."

"I had to help you. He still needs you and you him. You're connected in a way that's hard to explain."

"Yeah, I felt that from the very first day I laid eyes on 'em. Don't guess we're meant to understand it. It just is."

"I just wish…" Her voice faded with obvious sadness.

"Yeah, I know. You and that boy were his world. That got took from him and he'll never get that back."

"But he's got to find the strength within himself to forgive. He needs to know…" Her words ended abruptly and Vin felt the change. Suddenly his world tilted and he was once again falling into nothing. Heat swept up and around him while pain shot through his body as it shook.

The sweet melodic voice still echoed in his head as a small child's voice also entered a plea that he could just barely hear amongst the onslaught of sensations.

"Please, mister. Tell him."

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

With gentle care he reached over with his right hand to dip the cloth into the basin, then with deft movements squeezed out the excess water. It was a bit awkward using just one hand for the task as he moved the cloth back to wipe at the fevered brow of his best friend, but his other hand was busy gripping the younger man's shoulder as he lay lost in fevered mumblings.

Chris had been distracted from his dilemma of faith when Vin had begun to move weakly upon the bed, unintelligible murmurings slipping from his drawn mouth. It wasn't the same as the previous night when Vin's fevered awakenings had offered up much more resistance. Tonight the patient was much more subdued, with only the twitching of his eyelids, the weak movement of his head, and the quiet ramblings the only testaments to his half-conscious state. It almost seemed as if he were talking to someone though there was no recognition when Chris spoke to him. The eyes would flutter some, the glazed orbs nearly black with the enlarged irises in the low lamplight, but they never fully opened.

Running the dampened cloth once again over the flushed face he brushed the dampened hair from the edges of Vin's forehead. Even as he ministered to Vin's needs Chris couldn't help the thoughts that continued to plague him.

'God, why is this happening again? Why do the people I care about die?' It was a stupid question and he knew it. Everyone dies. That was just the natural order of life. And it felt so unfair. Was this it? Was he destined to only have people in his life for short periods of time? Once he got used to their presence, their hold on his heart… Rip! They were torn from him, taking shattered pieces of his heart along with them.

Chris hadn't believed any pieces had survived after the deaths of his wife and son, but he had been wrong. The first time he had any suspicion of this particular error was the night of the jailbreak. One of the braves from the nearby reservation had been charged with kidnapping and Vin had tracked him down and brought him and the missing young girl in. The daughter of a respected minister, the town had been in an uproar full of quick judgments and prejudice. When JD had come to get Chris the look of fear in the young man's eyes and the words "oh God… the jail… it's Vin" had nearly stopped his heart all together. Then the sight of Vin lying back against the bars of the cell, deathly pale and unmoving, had sent a shockwave of fear straight through him. It had taken every ounce of control he could muster to retain an outward sense of calm and quell the rising tide of mixed emotions that threatened to overwhelm him that night. That had been his first warning that things had begun to change.

And oh how they had changed. Looking upon the tracker's pale face he wondered if it would have been better had they never met. Would Vin not be lying here fighting for his life?

"Weren't for you I'd likely already a been hanged."

Chris's head snapped up at the quiet words, not even sure if he had heard them. But cloudy blue eyes stared at him with unflinching certainty. Afraid to move or even breathe, all he could do was stare at the man who moments before had been lost in some far off world of his own delirium. Now the eyes stared straight at him or more like through him and it send an icy chill down his spine. Swallowing hard he worked some moisture back into his mouth.

"Vin? Hey there. Let me get you some water." About to get up he froze when a weak hand grasped his wrist.

"Not… your… fault. She said… to tell ya… not your fault." Vin's voice was rough and quiet, but the words sounded loudly in Chris's mind. How could Vin know what he had been thinking? Even if the tracker had been aware at the time Chris had not spoken aloud, his doubts and fears held deep within his mind.

"Iffen you'da been there… you'd just be dead too. She don't want ya to forget the good times." Vin's voice was fading and the blue eyes were once again taking on a glazed look. "Hold us deep in yer heart, me love, we are always with you."

Chris felt all of the blood drain from his face. Me love. Vin had said me love. That was what Sarah and only Sarah had called him. The voice had been Vin's, but the words had been his own beloved wife's.

Vin's eyes were now closed as he lay perfectly still and quiet on the bed. Watching as the younger man's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm he continued to sit, unsure what else to do. Just outside of the ring of light provided by the single oil lamp a dark object on the table by the window caught his eye.

Standing up and making his way over to it, Chris reached down and gently picked up the deerskin pouch. Turning it over in his hand a couple of times he tucked it under his arm and made his way back to the chair, pulling it closer to the lamp on the bedside table. As he sat down he laid the pouch upon his lap, still unsure of the thoughts running through his mind. He had unconsciously brought this item with him when JD had come to his room to tell him of Vin's relapse, but now he wasn't so sure it had been an accident. Maybe it had been by some sort of otherworldly design that he now found himself at this point, at this trial of faith, with this particular weapon in his hand.

With less than steady hands Chris pulled his wife's legacy from within the protective folds of the deerskin pouch, Vin's own treasured gift to him. Carefully laying the pouch upon the bed stand, he opened the book and began to read.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The next couple of days proved to be a test of wills for all of the seven. Vin's fight for life became a battle for them all, with each of the others helping out where they could, and Chris once again taking on the role of their leader. At first, a touch wary of the change in their leader's demeanor, none more so than Buck, the others watched and waited; but it seemed as if their leader was back in charge, not only of the seven, but of his own destiny. Yet even that, they feared, hinged on whether or not Vin survived.

The town's folk also rallied around them, bringing more food than they could hope to eat in a month. Each one wanting to share a bit of the holiday with them, while also offering their own wishes and prayers for Vin's swift recovery. There had even been a group that had come by to sing a few belated carols and Chris had been surprised at how it had actually warmed his own heart and given him a sense of hope. Many of the carols had been ones that Sarah had been particularly fond of.

More days dawned and the holiday passed, but the spirit of hope revived when Vin finally took some broth and was able to keep it down. Slowly the fever began to abate, leaving a miserable and exhausted tracker, but a live one. This time the fever stayed down and Vin began to slowly improve, his breathing easing and the soreness becoming more tolerable over the next couple of days. Though it would be quite a few days more before Vin would be strong enough to be allowed up and more yet before he was able to get out, the dark pall that had hung over the seven men's heads for the last few days was finally beginning to lift and with the New Year approaching, things were looking better indeed.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

It was New Year 's Day and Chris Larabee sat watch over his sleeping friend as he reflected on the last week. It had not been an easy journey. Having to battle the ghosts of his memories and trying to reconcile them with the saviours of his best friend. Life certainly did have a way of throwing you curves when you least expected it. He thanked God that Vin was still here with him and he also thanked the two people who had meant the world to him. He wasn't sure if he would ever understand how it had happened, but he could no longer deny why it had.

Vin Tanner was like a brother to him and he had been at a turning point in his life. Somehow he was pretty sure Vin had been too. Both had been fighting with their haunting pasts and had been close to just walking away from the best thing that had happened to either one of them in a long time. But Chris wasn't going anywhere, not unless Vin did and then he guessed he'd just have to follow him. Because they were tied together by bonds far stronger than blood.

Since slowly recovering from his second bout of fever Vin had been even more quiet than usual. Part of it was due to the fact that his throat had grown a bit raw from coughing and the nasty cold he had developed. Buck had just told him that was what he got for falling asleep in the freezing cold in the middle of nowhere. But another reason had been the uneasiness that still remained between the leader and his second in command.

Chris had accepted the events that had led him to finding Vin out in the wilderness, but a lot had happened and they needed to talk. He just had to be sure that Vin was up to it. This was too important. Vin slept a lot and when he was awake grumbled about bossy doctors and their swamp water. Each day the younger man grew stronger and this new day of a whole new year just seemed quite appropriate for a reaffirmation of their friendship.

There was quite a chill in the air this morning. Getting up quietly Chris crossed the room to stoke the fire in the stove and add another log or two. There was no way he was taking a chance of his cold natured young friend having a relapse even if it meant sitting around in his own underclothes to keep from sweating to death. A quiet murmur escaped slack lips across the room and Chris almost chuckled. There was such a look of childish innocence in Vin when he slept. It was hard to reconcile the deadly sharpshooter he knew with the young man currently lost in slumber. Even more, he was thankful that Vin finally felt safe enough to allow himself to sleep so soundly. It was just another reminder of how much trust had been built between them.

A soft groan from the bed drew Chris's attention and he looked up in time to see Vin snuggle deeper into the bed, pulling his new blanket up to his chin and clutching possessively to the journal that was tucked underneath his pillow. Chris smiled and shook his head slightly as the scene from a few days before filled his head. The wide eyed look of utter amazement that had glistened in Vin's blue eyes would be a sight he would carry with him for many years to come.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

The others had told him of their plans. It was something that Ezra and JD had been cooking up since Christmas Day. Somehow the thought of those two conspiring on something was only slightly less frightening than if it had been Vin and Ezra. Still, he had to give them credit; it had been a wonderful idea. At first he had been leery. Vin being such a private person and not given to being the center of attention, he had cautioned them. But JD's enthusiasm had been contagious to the others as well as himself, so he had given his blessing and even added his own contribution.

They had waited until late in the afternoon to complete their plans, slipping in and out of the clinic while Vin had slept. Nathan had made sure the patient had drunk all of the medicinal tea with lunch, ensuring a sound and restful nap. Then, after bringing in the load, they had all crept back out to the landing to wait for their friend to awaken.

Chris had stayed by Vin's side through the entire caper and was there when the clouded blue eyes began to flutter. Truthfully, he had been just as anxious to see the younger man's reaction, but had also wanted to be nearby in case things became too uncomfortable. Though the intentions were well meaning there was no way he was going to stand by if things took a different path and Vin became unsettled.

As the sleepy eyes had finally begun to adjust to the surroundings he saw Vin sit up straighter and tilt his head slightly. Chris was playing it cool, pretending to be reading and unaware of Vin's awakening. But after a few minutes with no other reaction he began to worry.

"Hey, Cowboy. Nice nap?" Chris tried to sound casual despite his increasing curiosity at the look on Vin's face. It was a cross between confusion and wariness. Almost as if the younger man was afraid that the things lying at the foot of the bed might just be some strange animals he had never seen or maybe a trap just waiting to be sprung, which was closer to the truth.

"What's 'at?" The voice, roughened from the waning remnants of sleep and the lingering illness, was full of suspicion but the eyes never left the foot of the bed.

Before Chris could answer the query the door swung open to welcome the other five peacekeepers. He figured that someone must have kept an ear to the door or else Nathan was using that stethoscope of his for ulterior purposes.

"My, my, Mr. Tanner, what have you been up to in our absence to elicit such offerings?" Ezra's rich southern tones rolled from his tongue with practiced ease.

Vin said nothing, but the blue eyes narrowed to slits as he finally broke his gaze away to regard the gambler with suspicion.

A few moments passed, with Vin sizing up the situation while the others began to wonder if this had been such a good idea.

"What's all this here stuff? And don't tell me ya don't know cause ya got weasel written all over your face right now." Vin looked at Ezra before taking in every face in the room and adding. "Fact is, ya all do."

"I'm not sure what you are alluding to," Ezra began trying not to react to Vin's chosen reference. "But I would surmise that the items you are referring to must be those at the base of your bed." Ezra stepped casually toward the bed, looking down with a quizzical look as if inspecting some unknown object. "It would appear that you have been visited by Father Christmas."

"Ahhh. Kris Kringle, Babbo Natale, Papa Noel." Josiah's rich baritone voice took on the tone of a scholar as he began to recount the old folklore. "Such an old legend. Actually there are many stories from around the world that tell of the generosity and deeds of this figure."

Vin's eyes narrowed further, the blue nearly hidden as he tried to work out what Ezra and the others were up to. A vague recollection came to his mind of some story Josiah had told him about in the days before Christmas. It was something about a little man dressed in fur coming down a chimney, filling up stockings, and riding around in a flying sleigh with some type of deer. Glancing back down at the items he regarded them more closely.

At the foot of the bed lay a blanket, a pair of gloves, a bridle, and a leather book, all in a neat little pile. The blanket looked soft and new. His was so worn the wind whistled through it. The gloves sure would have come in handy when he was out in that snowstorm since his had practically fallen apart a few weeks back. Then there was the bridle. It reminded him a little of the one he had been working on for over a month. These were things he had wanted, needed even. But Peso had needed that salve for his leg, then there were the little extras he had needed to finish up the things he was making, and the bridle he had given to…

Realization came with a wave of pain like he had never known. A strange ache grew in his chest and it felt as if his heart might just flip right out of his body. His mouth went dry and his eyes widened.

These men had done this not to him, but for him. It wasn't a trick or a trap. It was a gesture of friendship and he had no idea what to do about it. How could he accept these gifts? It was too much. None of them, aside from Ezra, made that much money and there were too many other things they could use it for. Chris still needed supplies for the shack. Josiah was fixing up the church. JD needed to save all he could if he ever planned on marrying Casey. Buck was always in need of extra cash to fund his extracurricular activities. To the best of his knowledge Ezra was still dreaming of owning his own saloon. And lord knows Nathan would need some more supplies after his own extended stay in the gentle healer's care.

Glancing up around the room and seeing the broad smiles worn by each and every man Vin began to understand that he also couldn't not accept them. There was a joy in the giving that even he would not dare rob them of. There had been such a warm feeling that had grown within his own heart as he had carefully constructed the gifts for his friends. And he remembered the pride that had awakened in him when he had noticed the cabinet he had made for Nathan set in the corner and already in use by the healer for his herbs and medicines. Each of the men had thanked him for their gifts, which had caused a mixture of emotions. While the praise for his thoughtfulness and handiwork had given way to more than one or two blushes of embarrassment, the heartfelt sincerity of their words had given him indescribable comfort and joy.

Still, his mind was having a hard time reconciling that all of the things on the bed were actually meant for him.

"This all for me? I can't… This can't…" The look of suspicion had given way to disbelief. "Where'd all these things come from?"

"Legend has it that the jolly old elf traverses the world bestowing gifts to good little girls and boys on Christmas."

"Well iffen ya ain't noticed, pard, ole Vin here might be pretty young, but a kid he ain't." Buck's light humor drew a glare from Vin and a chuckle from the others, including Chris.

"Then I suppose the good Saint Nicholas is just making up for lost time." Josiah added with a knowing look.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

It had taken a few more minutes before Vin actually moved to touch the items and later in private Chris had told him about the journal for him to write whatever he wanted to in. He wasn't sure who had taken more pleasure in it. Vin, who still barely let his new gifts out of his sight, the bridle and gloves also kept tucked underneath the bed. Or the other six, who basked in the wonder and delight a few simple items had brought to the friend they had almost lost.

Chris's musings were interrupted and his smile over the gift giving experience gave way to a frown when he heard a quiet curse. Looking over, he saw Vin struggling to sit up. Though the younger man was well on his way to healing, his mobility was still cumbersome due to his still tender ribs and the stiffening of his body during sleep. The lingering sickness also robbed the tracker of his full strength, which was more frustrating than anything.

Crossing the room in just a few strides Chris reached Vin and felt the shoulder tense at his touch. "Easy now, just let me help you."

A sliver of blue peered up at him with frustration and anger. Knowing the anger was at the situation and not him he just ignored it and worked to help Vin sit up, stuffing the pillows behind him for comfort.

"Thirsty?" Chris asked, even as he reached for the cup and pitcher on the nightstand.

"Thanks." Vin reached for the cup as it was offered, peering up at the green eyes that had yet to meet his. Chris had been more than attentive during his infirmity. Almost always there to lend a helping hand, a cup of water, or a shoulder to lean on when he needed to stretch his legs a bit, but still, something was missing. And Vin felt its loss more deeply than he had anything in a long time. The green eyes rarely met his and when they did it was for brief moments and the emotions he saw there confused him. The connection that he and Chris had shared since the beginning seemed to be gone, leaving behind a cold and empty spot in his soul. He had spent too much time with nothing to do but think and sometimes too much thinking was a very dangerous thing. Vin had decided that Chris couldn't look at him the same anymore. And that his very presence was now just a painful reminder of the family his best friend had lost.

Chris felt Vin's appraising gaze but couldn't bring himself to look at him. He wanted to talk to him, needed to, but had no idea where to begin. They were men of action, not words, and this was something that had never come easy to him, not even with Sarah. The thought of her only reminded him of his intentions for the day. He had asked the others to give him some time with Vin alone, but now faced with the opportunity he felt his own courage wavering. Facing down a stone cold killer was one thing. Facing his demons and his best friend were another. Making a decision to forge ahead he lifted his gaze to meet Vin's, only to find the younger man's attention had turned elsewhere.

When he couldn't get a look at Chris's eyes and the little peek he got only served to fuel his own doubts and fears, Vin turned his attention to the outside. A place he desperately longed to be right now. Somewhere he could think without the confines of a room to dampen his spirit. He was still weak and he would admit that to himself, for now. But the day would come and soon when his strength would return and then…

"How long Nathan say afore I could git outta here?"

The look of longing on Vin's face spoke volumes. He was getting stir-crazy and the need to get outside was getting worse by the day. Chris couldn't blame him. Even he hated being cooped up for too long and knew it had to be twice as bad for Vin. Despite his frequent grumblings about the medicine and fussing, Vin had been a relatively cooperative patient, which in a way had worried both him and Nathan.

"He said that if you kept taking your medicine and resting that he might let you sit on the porch later today. Sort of a treat for the New Year."

"But how long 'fore I kin get outta here, permanent like?" There was a dullness to Vin's tone that Chris wrote off to the younger man being tired of being tired.

Adding a touch of a smile to his face and sarcasm to his voice, Chris tried to lighten the mood. "What's your hurry? Don't like the company or have you got somewhere better to be?"

The quiet answer nearly knocked him on his ass.

"Jist figure it's about time I moved on." There, he had said it, but it didn't make him feel any better.

A few dozen responses sprang to Chris's mind, each more unpleasant than the next. But he surprised himself with what popped out unbidden.

"So you're just gonna run away after all she did to get you back here?"

Startled blue eyes met hardened green ones and this time the message was clear to both of them. Vin was planning on leaving town once he was healed and didn't think Chris would mind. And Chris was pissed off, period.

Blowing out a breath of frustration Chris began to pace as the words began to flow. "Sarah and Adam came back here to make sure you stayed alive and that we found you. Do you really think they did all of that just so you could ride off alone to God knows where? So you could head back out there with no one to watch your back and keep some two bit bounty hunter from claiming that measly $500? Is that how you honor the woman who took care of you when you were practically dead?" Stopping long enough to glare green fire at the silent patient he saw the look of shock and felt his own anger dissipate.

Chris hadn't intended to get angry and yell and this was not how he had wanted to talk to Vin about what had happened. Sitting down in the chair by the bed he bent over, lowering his head for a few moments and running his hand through his hair before sitting back up to face Vin. The sky blue eyes regarded him with apprehension and sadness.

"Sorry, that's not what I meant. I don't want you to think I'm not grateful for what she done, what they both done. It's just that…" Vin didn't know exactly how to put how he was feeling, but being a man used to just spitting it out he decided on that route. "They saved my life. I owe them a debt I could never repay in a lifetime. But I know it's hard for you to look at me and not think about them now. I've seen it in your eyes, that is, when you'd look it me a'tall. I don't want to make it any harder for you. And iffen I ain't here then it won't be."

Chris was flabbergasted. How could Vin think that he wanted him to leave? But as he thought on his behavior over the last few days it became clearer. He had held back more. Not met Vin's eyes as much and had avoided talking about anything more than how Vin felt or if he needed anything. But not for the reasons Vin thought. Or then again, it was a bit of what Vin thought. It was hard to look at Vin and not think of Sarah and Adam. But where a week ago that would have sent him into a foul mood or a bottle of whiskey, it now held a more reverent feeling and though it was a feeling he had prayed for, and never thought of achieving, it was also extremely new, as well as a bit disconcerting.

"Maybe you're right." Chris admitted, but quickly added. "A little. I do think of them when I see you. It's a bit like the way I saw Buck right after I lost them. Seeing him only reminded me of what I had lost and all of the grief. It became too much and we went our separate ways. Now you remind me of them too, but instead of the pain and loss, you remind me of so much more. The good times and all that they gave me in the short time they were a part of my life. And even after. I never thought I'd be able to see or feel those things again. It's not easy. I guess I feel a bit like I'm betraying them by looking past the bad. That sounds strange…"

"No it don't." Vin's quiet voice was full of understanding and Chris knew that he didn't have to say another word.

A few minutes of silence hung in the air as they both drank in the new understanding that had emerged between them. But there was more that Chris had wanted to say, much more.

"You got the chance to spend Christmas with my family. Got to admit I'm a bit envious." Chris words were soft, but held no malice.

Vin felt a pang of deep empathy for his friend. Even though it was all a bit hard to take in, his memories of his time in the cabin with the young mother and the child were still vivid.

Chris's pain, though tightly masked, was evident in the stiffness of his posture, more than anything. To the casual observer it wouldn't have even been noticeable, but Vin was anything but a casual observer. Plus this was Chris, the man whose thoughts he could once again almost read before they even materialized. Speaking from his own heart he remarked, "Wish ya could have been there, too."

"I don't."

Chris's response was so sudden and unexpected that Vin couldn't suppress the surprise he knew was showing on his face when he looked up. His deep blue eyes were full of just one question. 'Why not?'

"She had to be there for you just like I had to be here for you. Sarah was just taking care of you 'til…" Chris's throat tightened with emotions he was fighting hard to keep under control. Swallowing hard he continued. "Making sure you hung on 'til I could get there to bring you home." His words spoke volumes, but his glistening green eyes added what he couldn't quite put voice to. 'Body and soul.'

Vin ducked his head at that, afraid of his own raging inner turmoil. The air was tight with unspoken feelings. Lost in thought as he contemplated all that had nearly been lost and what had been found he heard Chris messing with his saddlebags, but paid little heed to it.

Chris's unusually soft voice broke through the quiet contemplations.

"And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity."

'Charity?' Vin's face voiced his question and Chris gladly answered.

"Love."

Vin noticed the well-worn book that Chris now held in his hands. It wasn't open, but the tracker knew the words spoken had come from within its pages. It also didn't take him long to figure out that it wasn't just any book, but a bible.

The gunslinger averted his eyes, staring out the window. Chris knew that he was about to bare a part of his soul, but it felt safe. "It was one of Sarah's favorite verses from the bible. After I lost Sarah and Adam I thought I'd lost all of that. I lost all faith in mankind, in myself. Couldn't see a dab of hope for the future, not without them. Shut everyone out and gave up on ever being able to give a damn for another living soul. I never wanted to feel that kind of pain again."

Vin listened in silence, giving his support without ever saying a word or moving a muscle. His mere presence provided what Chris needed.

"I was wrong. This town, these people, you bunch of yahoos, taught me that." Looking back to meet the tracker's steady gaze head on he added. "You showed me I was wrong."

Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long almost sigh he continued. "Thought I was catching on pretty quick. Then the holidays came and Christmas." A sad half smile tugged at his mouth. "She loved everything about the season and you couldn't help but get caught up in her excitement. Decorating the whole house and baking those cookies and things she only made for the holidays. I asked her once to make me some for my birthday in the summer and she said she couldn't. Said they wouldn't taste the same unless it was Christmas." He just shook his head slightly at the memory, a wistful smile still gracing his lips.

Vin watched as the emotions played across his best friend's face, regretting the pain at the fond memories, but glad that the gunslinger was looking to some of the happier times he had shared with his family.

"And the spiced cider. We'd sit by the fire late at night and drink it together, with just a dash of a little something extra." The memories drifted over him like a warm blanket. The ache in his heart increased, but was bearable and he knew the reason was because of the brother who sat beside him.

"She was like a whirlwind of activity the entire time and I had to hold on tight not to get swept away by her. And Adam was just like her." He paused, as if gathering his strength to continue. "This year was the first one since I lost them that I hadn't been able to just lock it all away and forget. I guess when I opened up to let you and the others in, it let out a few things at the same time."

Glancing up to gauge his young friend's reaction to all of these revelations he caught a look he hadn't expected, but knew he should have. Guilt.

"Don't, Vin. I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty. It's high time I started remembering some of the good things instead of just the bad." Chris looked away slightly. "All of these memories were flooding in. I felt like I was drowning in them. That's when I tried to stop it. Became a bit moody I guess."

Chris already knew the look Vin would be giving him now and had to laugh outright when he turned back and saw it.

"A bit." The sarcasm in the tracker's voice was crystal-clear and the genuine mirth in the twinkling blue eyes warmed the leader's heart.

Raising an eyebrow at the comment Chris ignored it otherwise and continued.

"I was mad as hell at you when you rode out, but more than that, I was worried. I was worried that you wouldn't come back and I was worried that you would."

"Wasn't sure I was coming back, or at least if I's gonna stay when I did."

"Yeah, I should have known something was bothering you. With those bounty hunters last month and all. But, well, I guess I was a little distracted."

"Yeah, that much whiskey'll do that to a feller." The mischievous glint in the tracker's eyes showed full exoneration for the oversight that only Chris felt was a problem. "I should have said something to ya when ya didn't come out of it after a couple of days. Or at least kicked your ass."

Chris returned his friend's smile, but lost it quickly as his thoughts turned to his conversation with Buck and the ladies' man's painful confession. "Buck told me what he said to you. What he asked of you."

"Ain't Bucklin's fault." Vin was quick to add firmly, not wanting any ill will between the two old friends on his account. "I'm a grown man. I make my own decisions."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Chris groaned. "And you've been taking care of yourself for most of your life. You're beginning to beat a dead horse with that one."

"All's I'm sayin' is iffen I'd of decided to mind your business then I'd have minded your business."

"So why didn't you?"

Silence. Vin didn't have a comeback for the question he hadn't seen coming. Well, he did have an answer, but not the one he wanted to give.

One look at Vin's eyes told him the answer. Vin had listened to Buck, but didn't want Chris to blame the big man for it.

"I don't blame Buck or you. You were both just trying to do what you thought was best for me and I sure as hell wasn't making it any easier on either one of ya."

Chris saw the tracker visibly relax as though a weight had been lifted. 'Still always looking out for everyone else, huh Tanner?'

Realizing he'd gotten a bit off track, Chris returned the conversation to his previously intended path.

"I was throwing my own little pity party and ready to throw you and the others right out of my life. Then you rode out first and scared the hell out of me. At my shack I sat there staring at the same glass of whiskey for hours. I had spent so much time thinking about what I had lost that I almost threw away what I had found. Kept wondering if you were okay. If you were cold or if you'd taken enough sugar with you to sweeten that mud you call coffee."

Vin only snorted his disgust at the description, not wanting to further interrupt while Chris was pouring his heart out. He could feel that it was something the gunslinger needed to do. To talk about his family and what had happened over the last couple of days.

Chris grinned tightly, but knew he was still stalling. Maybe talking about this wasn't such a good idea. Him and Vin had never needed words before to express how they felt. But then again, this was no ordinary time of the year and this had definitely not been your run of the mill few days. No, he needed to talk about this and Vin needed to hear it.

"Got tired of thinking and worrying, so I went to bed. Couldn't sleep good and woke up thinking about you. Just couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Finally fell asleep again and had this dream. It was just like old times with Sarah and Adam." Chris's face took on a wistful look.

"The house was all decorated for the holidays. I could even smell the cookies and cider. It was so real. Then there you were. Just sitting at the table like you belonged there." His head shook slightly and his brows knit together in a frown at his remembered confusion. "I didn't understand at first, but now I think I do."

This was still hard for Chris. The memories of his wife and son still so fresh in his mind. Steeling up his courage he looked up at this man who meant much more to him than words could truly say. Green eyes meeting blue Chris shared a piece of his heart.

"Sarah was trying to teach me something. She was telling me that you did belong there with my family. You are family, Vin. I do have all of those things she liked to read about. I have it in this town, in the fellas, and most of all in you. No matter how hard it is to believe sometimes, my life didn't end three years ago, it just took a different turn. Life goes on. You're living proof of it."

Vin was moved beyond words by the outpouring of emotion from the normally reserved gunslinger. A warmth spread through him, filling his heart and soul with a sense of belonging that he had longed for most of his life. Thinking hard on the last few days and all that he himself had come to understand, the tracker decided to share a little of what he had learned.

Vin's soft, raspy voice drifted through the emotional silence that had followed Chris's last words. "Reckon she taught me a thing or two as well. Like, sometimes you find just what yer lookin' for, just what ya need, when you don't even know what it is yerself. And when you do find it, you gotta fight like hell to hang on to it. It ain't that red stuff running through our veins that makes us family." Vin looked up at Chris with a solemn expression. And patting his hand over his heart, whispered. "It's what's right in here."

The sharpshooter wanted to say so much more, but couldn't. Like how he held Chris and every one of the boys in his heart and that had been what had kept him going. Sarah, be she ghost or angel, had reminded him of something he already knew but had been afraid to voice. So many times before to speak of wanting something or feeling an attachment to a place or person only meant he would lose it. But Chris's kindhearted angel had shown him that by not accepting it for the true and rare gift it was, this magnificent family he was now so much a part of, he was losing it anyway. By running away from what this town and these men offered he was turning his back on everything his mother had tried to teach him. Being a Tanner meant standing up for what was right and he hadn't felt anything this right in a long time. He had a family and a brother who would face hell itself to bring him home. And nothing could be more worth fighting for.

Fighting a yawn, Vin turned his eyes away, knowing Chris would see the weakness of body he was now beginning to feel tenfold. It had been a rough week and the tracker was still reeling from the effects of fever, blood loss, and the cold he had picked up.

Chris would have known Vin was winding down even if he hadn't seen the look of fatigue that began to shadow the blue eyes. He was still amazed the younger man had managed to stay awake this long and felt a stab of guilt as he wondered if he had pushed his friend too far with their talk.

"You best lay back down and get some rest before Nathan comes in here and tans both our hides." Chris managed a weak grin, but Vin saw the worry and guilt hiding in the green eyes.

"Now don't you go gettin' all worked up, Larabee. I'm tired, not dead."

Vin regretted the reference even as he said it, but more so after seeing the flash of pain cross his friend's face.

"I'm fine, Chris. I wasn't so sure I's gonna make it when I's…, well, when I's out there." It was the only way he knew to say it. Had he been dead? Was he just dreaming? Those were questions he didn't really expect answers to, not anytime soon anyway, but he had been somewhere, and out there seemed as good of an explanation as any.

"She, Lizbeth… uh… Sarah kept telling me to hang on. Asked me about my family and I told her all about 'em. All about you and the fellers. She said I couldn't leave just yet cause I still had things to look after." Vin swallowed hard before making the next vow. "I ain't planning on leaving anytime soon, but know this. I'll fight it tooth and nail when the time comes. Cause I got some mighty powerful reasons to be hanging around." The mischievous glint sparkled in the tiring blue eyes. "Who else is gonna kick your ass when ya get ta feelin' sorry fer yerself agin?"

Chris returned the smile with a glance up at his friend. His hands still held the bible and he stroked the well-worn cover reverently. He had one more thing to share. To anyone else the whole conversation would not only have been impossible, it would have sounded downright insane.

Vin noted the roughness of Chris's voice as he spoke once again, immediately drawing his attention to his friend's hands. There was something very significant about that book, that bible.

"This was Sarah's bible. She read from it every night. Whenever she found a passage or verse that touched her in some way, she marked it by underlining the words and putting little symbols or notes to the sides." Chris swallowed hard at the lump that just couldn't seem to leave him alone today.

"Her mother gave it to her when she was a young girl and she treasured it. But every time I left and was to be gone for more than just the day, I'd always find this bible tucked into my saddlebags. It was like having her with me. I'd sit around the campfire or in my hotel room and read through the passages she had marked. It's one of the only things I have left of her. I thought I had every verse that she had marked memorized, I'd read them so many times. But, early the other morning when I sat here…" Chris felt his throat grow tighter and he had to clear it before finishing.

"When I sat here praying that you would be alright, I began reading. I don't know if I was looking for an answer in here or maybe just the strength to believe again." Vin watched as the look on Chris's face changed to one of almost disbelief and his words echoed themselves. "I thought I knew them all by heart."

Chris lifted his head and Vin saw his friend's eyes. The green orbs shone in the lamplight from unshed tears and the raw emotion within them made his own throat begin to hurt.

Swallowing hard, Chris looked down at the precious gift in his hands and opened it slowly, turning to the page he had marked. The emotions that had washed over him as he had read the passage by his best friend's sickbed were with him once again.

"A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity."

Looking back up at Vin he smiled. "It's underlined and her initials are beside it. Guess she's still trying to teach us something."

Vin looked down at the journal that lay half hidden beneath the pillow and felt a tug on his heartstrings. The journal Chris had given him was something he knew he would treasure for years to come. There were a lot of things he wanted to remember, to write down, including something that had just come to him. With unsure movements he carefully pulled the book out and held it out to the gunslinger.

Chris looked up at the movements, his brows knit in confusion at the proffered journal.

"My scribin's still not too good." Vin's words were accompanied by the beseeching look in his eyes. "Was wondering iffen you'd mind writin' something down fer me?

It hadn't taken long for Chris to discern that his best friend had a hard time with the written word though he had never once pressed him on the issue. There were many men who had not been given the opportunities of proper schooling and it did not change his overall opinion or respect for Vin or his abilities. But he had felt a certain sense of pride when the younger man had told him one day that Mary was going to help him 'learn his letters'. For some reason Vin had felt compelled to share this private information with him. It had been one of those moments that had been both awkward and important. Wanting to show Vin that he not only was proud of the decision, but that it was something that either way would not have been a problem, he had chosen a simple response.

"Ever need any help, look me up. I'd be honored."

He still remembered the look he had received. Though the face had remained relatively passive a look of surprise and sincere gratitude had shown brightly in the sky blue eyes. It wasn't until a week or so later that he had read the poem Mary had printed in The Clarion entitled 'A Hero's Heart' and was further amazed when discovering it had come from Vin himself. He couldn't help but wonder at what other hidden talents lay beneath the buckskin jacket and trail dust. The idea of a journal just seemed natural. It would be somewhere for Vin to practice his writing and keep track of the inspiring words that seemed to bubble forth from his world-wise understanding like water from a spring.

Reaching out carefully Chris took the leather bound book into his hands then got up to retrieve a pencil from Nathan's desk. Returning to his seat he turned to the first page and looked up expectantly.

Vin's eyes were on the window and Chris was aware of the apprehension that was obvious by the stiff set of the tracker's shoulders. He wanted to say something, but didn't wish to break Vin's concentration. So instead he waited patiently, pencil at the ready.

Vin had never shared anything like this with Chris or anyone else, other than Mary, and that had nearly scared him to death. It had turned out pretty good in the end though. His roughened voice sounded different somehow. The words seemed to come to life as he spoke.

"Special spirits flow through time, touching lives with every turn." Vin felt the words form within his heart and mind. "Beyond the hand of death their presence is still felt, bringing with them a renewal of things that make life worthwhile by mere example, instilling within tattered hearts the eternal message of faith, hope, and love."

Chris barely got the words written down at all as his own heart responded to the beautiful verse. He swallowed hard as the lump returned again to his throat, nearly cutting off his own ability to speak. Putting himself to work writing down each and every word he looked up when finished to find Vin watching him intently. And he was at a complete loss for words. What should he say? What he wanted to say, what he really felt deep inside, seemed absurd to say to another man, to Vin. But he had to say something; he had to make Vin understand how much he had been affected by the words. Had to let him know that the sharing of such a gift was just beyond what he knew how to express, man to man.

A slow smile formed on Vin's face and the twinkle in his blue eyes had Chris smiling back. No words were necessary. Vin saw it all without him speaking a word. But even that seemed too easy. Vin deserved more.

"Anytime you need one of these gems written down, just let me know. I'd be honored." It was close enough to what he had said before, but instead of surprise in Vin's eyes, this time there was gratitude. Not just for the offer, but the sentiment behind it.

Without either man prompting it, their hands flew up and they locked forearms, holding on just a touch longer than necessary.

"Good to have you back."

Vin felt his heart swell with pride and happiness. It felt so right to be here with Chris and the boys. Leaving was such a foreign thought now. There was too much to stay for and too much left to be done. He felt needed here. He felt… loved. This year he had wanted to experience the true spirit of Christmas and despite all that had happened, he knew he had.

"It's good to be back." Those simple words from Vin told Chris that the tracker had decided to stick around for a while longer.

Chris's grin spread, wide full of relief and thankfulness. He had nearly lost his best friend, his brother. But with some divine intervention, mixed with a lot of stubborn will, he had regained so much more. This holiday that had begun with pain and self recrimination, had ended with a greater sense of not only what he had right now with this new family, but a renewed appreciation of what those he had lost had truly given him in just a few short years. It was time to move on, but that didn't mean he would have to leave Sarah and Adam behind. For they had made their marks upon his soul and would forever be with him, deep within his heart and in the memories of times of shared joy.

This had definitely been a Christmas to remember.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Somewhere 'out there' a childish voice arose like a rustling of leaves on the wind.

"Mamma, is Papa going to be okay now?"

A soft feminine voice answered. "Yes, Adam. He'll be just fine. His brother will look after 'im for us."

"I didn't even know he had a brother."

"Neither did he, laddie. But he's learnin'."

The End