Something to Be Thankful For (A Thanksgiving Tale)

It was cold and getting colder. J.D. Dunne shivered in the growing darkness and tried to curl into a smaller ball to protect what little warmth he had left against the late fall chill.

What had ever possessed him to think he could catch that stupid turkey!? It wasn't like he had ever trapped such an animal before. Heck, he had only snared a couple of rabbits in his short nineteen years and hadn't been able to bring himself to kill either of those.

So what in the world was he doing out in the middle of the woods , at dusk , with the bird call Mr. Gentry at the general store had assured him was perfect for luring Wild Gobblers.? Two words. Buck Wilmington.

The best friend J.D. had ever had. The brother he had always wanted. The damn fool who had taunted him about having to live with chicken and pigs feet for Thanksgiving dinner this year.

The young man looked up to view the now clear, star studded , autumn sky and sighed.

Chicken!! Who had ever heard of such a thing? Why ,even in the worst of years, he and his Ma had somehow managed to have turkey on Thanksgiving Day. She always seemed to make the holidays special, even if there wasn't much money. He really missed that . He missed a lot about his mother and that was one of the reasons he was bound and determined to have at least a normal Thanksgiving.

A dinner, with a Turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy and all the other trimmings he was sure he could whip up with a little help from the others.

The others. They were surely the most important ingredient to his fantasized feast. After all what was Thanksgiving with out a family to share it with?

The sheriff let out a small gasp of pain as he gently rolled back over on his side and tried to get comfortable. He was ,after all, stuck there for the night, undoubtedly.

But the 'others' didn't seem to share the same vision as their youngest partner. That was an understatement! Chris practically bit his head off for even suggesting that the Seven all take the day off.

Of course, J.D. realized that Chris didn't feel very thankful a lot of the times. He understood that losing people you care about does that to a person. But that was one of the reasons this year was so important. Wasn't it? For all that each of them had lost in the past, they had gained precious more as a group. Well, at least that's how J.D. had felt.

Vin Tanner must have not shared his sentiment because he had made plans to spend his Thanksgiving the way he had the last several years. Alone!! Alone, on the open range, under the sun, moon and stars, communing with nature and all that other solo stuff the bounty hunter seemed to thrive on. What was up with that anyway?

At the moment, it was the last place J.D. wanted to be. Give him a roof over his head and a hard lumpy bed any day. Even Buck snoring in the next room would be a welcomed sound now.

Anyway, shouldn't Vin want to be with his friends on Thanksgiving? Especially Chris. After all , the two of them had become really close over the last year, even more so after the close call with Cross last month. Buck had even told him that Larabee acted more like him old self than he ever had since the fire. Vin had a great deal to do with those changes, but the tracker must not have thought so.

He only smiled when J.D. had mentioned his plans, giving him that empathizing older sibling look , as if he understood the stage the kid was going through, but just couldn't join him in it. Or wouldn't.

J.D. shivered again as he heard the call of a lone wolf in the distance.

Maybe he shouldn't be so hard on his friends. After all, Nathan had seemed somewhat enthusiastic. He'd never really had much experience at the big , traditional dinner thing, well except for watching his owners enjoy themselves why he and other slaves like him ate what meager fixins they were allowed, but he at least offered to try. Well, that was until Josiah mentioned going to the Indian village.

The Indian Village. Well, there were Indians at the Pilgrim's first Thanksgiving. But this was J.D.'s first Thanksgiving out west, with his friends, and dang it , he didn't want any Indians there. Or his friend at their Village when they should be in Four Corners eating that damn Turkey that got away.

"Boy, that's really childish," the boy whispered to himself, between clinched teeth.

Childish. "Holidays are for Children." Ezra's words, not his.

The gambler hadn't even looked up from the hand of aces he was holding to acknowledge J.D.'s request with a moment of thought. Of course, although the man of chance was really good with children, he sort of expressed the view that the wee ones were put on God's great Earth as a means of amusement. A nice distraction from more difficult realities such as poker playing and con running. What was worse , was that in Ezra's eyes J.D. was no more than an overgrown kid and should be treated with such accord. Well, that's what it felt like to J.D., anyway.

Maybe that's why the sheriff had seen fit to whistle and congratulate the gambler on such a great hand before walking away from the crowded card table. Funny how all those men folded, all of a sudden like.

The younger man stifled a laugh, which only turned into a cough, that jarred his sore ribs and throbbing leg. J.D. took a deep breath and tried to think of anything but his predicament.

Ezra sure was mad. But not as mad as Buck was. Sure J.D. had promised to relieve him in two hours. The older gunslinger had one of his monumental 'hot' dates and didn't want to be hung up at the sheriff's office all day. So J.D. was a little late. Planning their first Thanksgiving dinner should have taken precedence over Buck's libido.. Shouldn't it?

J.D. swallowed hard, trying to fight back the sob that wanted to escape. He wasn't going to give in. No matter how bad he hurt or how much he wished Buck and the others were there at that very moment. God, where were they? They could yell or be as mad or as patronizing as they wanted as long as they got him out of that damn hole and back home.

Home. What a funny word that was. It never held much meaning for the young man before. It held none after his mother died. But now, now, it represented so many different things. Safety. Warmth. Shelter. Brothers. Laughter. Happiness. Belonging.

Belonging. Maybe that was the most important thing. J.D. Dunne belonged somewhere. And right now , he would have given anything to be there.

Well, actually anywhere but here, would be good. J.D. took another deep breath and tried to push himself up. Pain shot through his leg and threatened to send him back to the blackness from which he had emerged only a short time ago. Or was it hours. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that it had been daylight when he had fell to his demise and now it was dark.

The last thing he had remembered seeing after the fall was that no good gobbler staring down at him as if he was the funniest thing it had ever seen. Boy, turkey never had tasted as sweet as it would now! Each bite would be chewed with relish and consumed with utter delight.

Revenge may have been a dish best served cold, but J.D. Dunne would take his hot , thank you very much. Hot and covered with gravy.

Hot. It seemed really strange to be hot and cold at the same time. His leg felt like it was on fire. Broken , more than likely. But the rest of him felt like ice. He was so cold. Cold and afraid. More afraid than he had been in a long time. More than he been since coming to Four Corners. Maybe because he was alone and J.D. hated being alone. He really wished Vin or Chris was there , or even better, Buck. J.D. would never complain about the older gunslinger's over protectiveness again.

"Buck!" the kid yelled, hopelessly, as a sudden surge of panic overcame him.. "Help!!" A coughing fit was his only reward. That, and a searing pain in his side. "Please . . . " he said more softly. "I'm sorry I messed up. Again. "

Sorry. That's what he was. Sorry for letting the others down. Sorry for making Buck mad at him. Sorry for chasing that damn bird and not watching where he was going. And sorry for believing that just once things could turn out the way he imagined, the way he dreamed. Maybe dreams were for kids too.

Maybe. Maybe he'd just close his eyes for a moment. Maybe the beckoning arms of sleep would get him just a little bit warm, take away some of the pain. Maybe he'd even dream about the others.

The others. They'd probably tell J.D. he should stay awake. Keep alert. Anything but give in to the lulling silence calling to his freezing, tired body. But then again the others had told him to forget about Thanksgiving. They'd told him not to become sheriff. They'd even told him to go back East, when he first arrived out West. He'd never listened to them before. Why start now?

Another shudder shook his slight frame, and an owl called out from above.

J.D.'s head had started hurting now. He felt dizzy, disconnected from his bleak surroundings. The full moon seemed a large white blur against its midnight canvas now. At least his leg wasn't hurting as bad. Or maybe it was just that the rest of his body was going numb all of a sudden.

Perhaps, he was just thinking too much. Whichever the culprit, it was only another reason to let go, to surrender to the shelter of unconsciousness

And although he knew he really shouldn't , the young man relented . . . chased into the dream world by the thoughts that Buck would really think him foolish now.

+ + + + + + +

Buck Wilmington sighed wearily and ran a hand over his tired eyes. He really hated riding in the middle of the night, blinded by not only the darkness but the thick forest around them. He liked being dragged out of bed and away from the company of a beautiful woman even less.

How many times were Vin and Chris going to think it quite humorous to practically scare him to death with that little joke? How many times was Buck going to fall for it?

But what Buck hated more than anything else was finding out that the person who had somehow infiltrated their way into his heart ,landing the lead role as the troublesome younger brother the gunslinger had never actually wanted, was in some kind of danger. At least that's what Vin feared when the kid hadn't come back from his afternoon ride.

Damn it, J.D., where the hell are you?

So here they were, the legendary Seven, well five at the moment, standing out in the middle of Tucker's Gulch, where their futile goose chase had lead them. Or should that be Turkey chase.

"Damn it ! If this ain't the most foolish stunt that kid has pulled, it has to rank right up near the top of the list," Buck cursed, shifting in his saddle and pulling his coat tighter around him. "This has to be the coldest night we've had so far and I don't think he even had a jacket with him. What in the hell possessed him to tear off that late in the evening by himself?"

"I do believe our young friend was in pursuit of the prized ingredient that he was in need of to perpetuate the feast he was so enthusiastically planning," Ezra drawled, stifling a yawn from his position upon the wagon beside Nathan.

The healer had insisted on bringing the buckboard, just in case the young sheriff's usual luck prevailed and he found himself injured or in need of medical care.

"I know that , Ezra!" Buck had worked himself into quite a frenzy during their two hour ride. Josiah had summed it up best when he compared the not so amused younger man to a mama grizzly he had once seen raging through a camp looking for her lost cub.

"What I can't figure out is why he had to do it tonight?"

"Well, Thanksgiving is tomorrow, Buck." Nathan Jackson's kindly voice did little to soothe his irate friend.

"So!" Wilmington snapped. "It's just another day!"

"Not to J.D." Chris Larabee had been quiet throughout most of the trip, conversing only with Vin , when the tracker stopped the group long enough to check a hoof print or other signs of their young partner's trail. So, when he spoke up, he gained every eye. "Ignoring that is what got us and J.D. into this mess in the first place."

"Brother Chris is right," Josiah agreed with a sigh. "I believe we jaded souls may have been a little too caught up in our selves to see that the more innocent of our group needed our support."

"I know the kid wanted a Turkey dinner, but that's no cause for him to go giving us gray hair and a night of hell for not getting his way." Buck tried to sound angry , but failed miserably. "I mean, I know I might have been a little sore at him and all but I . . . "

"You were, no doubt, a pompous ass, Mr. Wilmington," the gambler accused, nonchalantly. "Just as Mr. Larabee was and Mr. Tanner, too." Ezra frowned, "I should know. After all, it takes one to know one."

Everyone seemed more than a little surprised at their gambling friend's admission. Not that it wasn't like Ezra to sometimes relish in pointing out the imperfection he often found in his fellow partners, but rarely did he find himself to be at fault. After all, Ezra was Ezra's favorite person. Or at least that's the way he liked everyone to believe.

"I can only hope that we find our young sheriff in favorable enough form for him to exonerate us for our short-sighted blunder." Seeing the bemused looks on his colleagues faces, the gambler straightened his shoulders and regained his usual smirk, "Not to mention the fact that Mr. Dunne has a rather large sum of monetary funds to recompense me for."

"I'm sure he's fine," Buck scoffed, choosing to ignore the voices of doubt ringing in his ears. "Right , Chris? I mean the kid might have made camp or something. Maybe even doubled back , and is sitting in the nice warm boarding house as we speak, while we freeze our asses off lookin' for him. It'd serve us right, huh?"

Larabee held his friend's hopeful gaze. Even in the dim moonlight, Chris could see the worry present in the other man's eyes. If something had happened to J.D. , Buck would never forgive himself. To be honest, neither would he. " I don't think he would have camped, it's not J.D.'s nature to stay off by himself, if he can help it."

Wilmington's face instantly clouded over, " He could've took Manner Pass back to town, though," the older man offered, not really believing his words, but not wanting to completely dash his friend's optimism. "Vin will be able to tell us more when he gets back."

As if on cue, a horse could be heard making it's way toward the clearing they had stopped in after the trail had become too treacherous for a wagon. Vin's face was grim as he entered his circle of friends leading a very familiar, but rider less, horse.

"Shit," Buck muttered and slid from his own mount to take the reins of J.D.'s horse.

"I found her about half a mile north of here, tied to a tree." The tracker explained. "Looked like she'd been there a while."

"What about J.D.?" Wilmington asked the question on everyone's mind. "He wouldn't have left Bailey alone and gone very far." The kid loved that horse and Buck knew it. Something had to have happened to keep his friend from coming back for her. The huge mare whinnied softly and nuzzled Buck's shoulder as if she could read the human's grim thoughts.

"I found some foot prints and some tracks that could have been made by a Turkey. I figure J.D. decided to trail it on foot." The ex- bounty hunter looked from Buck to Chris. "I thought Nathan's lantern may come in handy now that we have an idea of the radius of our search area."

"Twelve eyes are better than two, Brother Tanner." Josiah agreed, with a nod. "With all of us looking , we're sure to find him."

Vin nodded but found it hard to believe his big friend's words. Perhaps guilt was clouding his judgment. After all, J.D. had come to him to ask for help in tracking a bird.

The kid was always asking the tracker to show him different techniques and ways of following a trail. Most of the time the bounty hunter really enjoyed teaching his friend anything he knew. Hell, if the truth be known, there wasn't much Vin wouldn't do for J.D.

But something about this time of year brought up bad memories for Vin, and that in turn tended to resurrect the old walls around his heart, and made him yearn to escape any threat to his fortress of self-protection. At the time J.D. had asked for his help, that threat just happened to be his friends.

So, he had brushed the kid off without a second thought. And now instead of trailing a turkey to share with his family tomorrow, he was tracking his friend, his brother, who was lost and probably cold, more than likely hurt. It was enough to make Vin begin to wonder if this whole mess wasn't his fault when a firm hand on his shoulder brought his mind back to the present situation.

"You alright?" Chris Larabee's soft voice washed over the younger man, bringing a slight reprieve with it's sincere concern.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine." He lied.

Chris didn't looked convinced. "You ready to show us where you found Bailey?"

Vin met the older gunslinger's worried stare, "Let's go."

With the buffalo hunter leading the way and Buck urging everyone on , it didn't take long for the six to make it to the small clearing where Vin had found J.D.'s horse.

"Looks like J.D. followed the turkey through this underbrush. There's no way a horse could make it through the bramble and bushes here."

"J.D.!!" Buck yelled unexpectedly, and very loudly, startling his partners and several nocturnal creatures, by the sounds of the scurrying in the surrounding foliage. "J.D.!!"

"Dang it, Buck," Chris hissed. "Give a man a little warning the next time, why don't ya."

"He's around here, close , I know it," the determined gunslinger ignored Larabee and made his way past the tracker . Dropping to his knees and carefully holding the lantern he had took from Nathan, he began to crawl through the same branches Vin had pointed out.

"Perhaps Mr. Wilmington has developed the heightened senses of that maternal Grizzly you so perceptively equated him with Brother Sanchez." Ezra suggested, quirking an amused eyebrow at his friends, before being the first to follow Buck through the small opening.

Chris sighed and made to follow the gambler, "Lets just hope for J.D.'s sake he has more control with these gifts than he does his so called 'animal' magnetism."

+ + + + + + +

J.D. Dunne knew he had to be dreaming. Some cruel dream. Just like the ones he had been having about laughing turkeys and bottomless black holes. Of course this dream was worse. More taunting, because it was exactly what the young man had prayed for. .He could have sworn he heard a voice calling to him. Not just any voice Buck Wilmington's voice.

"J.D.!!"

There it was again. This time the young sheriff was sure his eyes were open. He was awake. The dull ache in his leg and constricting pain in his side was a sure sign he wasn't in any lulling dream state. But maybe this wasn't exactly reality either.

He had a fever. He knew that much. And a fever could make you see things that weren't there and hear things. Things you really wished were true. Once when he was sick, he had been sure his mama was there with him, but of course that wasn't real. Just like now . . . Just like Buck wasn't real.

The boy painfully pulled his arms up to cover his ears. Now he was certain he had heard Chris and Vin. But it was just in his head. Wasn't it?

"J.D.? Can you hear me?"

"You think he's down there?"

"I can't tell, damn it. Nathan, shine the light over here."

"Look, something moved."

"J.D.?"

"Buck??" the hoarse , hope filled plea came out with some effort on the still disbelieving teen's part. "Is that really you?"

" It's me kid," Buck practically shouted before turning to Chris who was bent down beside him. "He's down there!" Buck slapped the older gunslinger on the shoulder, not bothering to hide his elation. " Did you hear him?"

"I heard him, Buck." Chris replied grimly, not liking the sound of their young friend's weak reply. He looked at Vin and the others who had now all gathered around the small opening in the earth that the bounty hunter had spotted. The big preacher got down on his stomach and leaned over the crevice.

"J.D.? It's Josiah, are you alright , son?"

The kid swallowed hard and looked up to where he could now see a faint glow of light. It wasn't a dream . His friends had found him. "Been better.." he coughed. "I think I broke somethin.."

"J.D.," Nathan's worried voice called down to him. "What do you think you broke?"

"My leg," came the small reply. "Maybe some ribs."

The healer's dark eyes met their leader's . "We need to get him out of there. Soon."

"J.D., can you move at all?" Chris's voice sounded strange to the sheriff. For a minute, the kid had thought his hero sounded almost scared, and that worried him.

"J.D.!" Buck's panicked plea snapped the kid out of his morose thoughts. "You still with us?"

"I'm here." J.D. waited for another coughing fit to pass. "It really hurts to move , though."

"Then don't." Chris's voice had regained its strict tone. That definitely sounded like an order. J.D. could live with that. At least it was familiar. "We'll come down and get you."

J.D. squeezed his eyes shut and said a quick thank you to whomever must have been listening to his prayers. Things were going to be alright now.

"I'm going down after him." Vin Tanner had already gone and retrieved the rope from his saddle bag. He handed one end to Ezra. "Feed this around that tree there, you all can use it as leverage."

"Hold up there a minute, Cowboy." Larabee stood up and looked at Vin. "The walls of that chasm don't look too stable. It could come down right on top of J.D. and anyone that goes after him."

"That's exactly why I should go. I'm one of the lightest, and I've had experience in climbing, Chris."

"No. No way. I'm not putting you or anyone else at risk, Vin. I'm going after the kid myself."

"Not without me, you're not," Buck spoke up, fiercely. "The kid needs me."

Chris sighed. Vin, he could probably convince to see things his way, Buck was another story. "Alright, it'll probably take two of us to get him secured and up here without hurting him even worse."

The look Tanner shot the older gunslinger was not at all pleasant. "I could just as easily help."

"It's obvious, Mr. Tanner, that Chris has undoubted felt somewhat useless on this little mission. After all, it was your honed tracking abilities that allowed us to find J.D. It's only fair, that Mr. Larabee do his share of the work." Ezra explained, diplomatically. "And as far as Mr. Wilmington is concerned, well, only a fool would put himself between a grizzly and her cub."

"Can we just hurry this up?" Buck insisted, too anxious to even care about Ezra's jab.

"We'll lower you down slowly, one at a time," Vin conceded, keeping his eyes on Chris. He knew why the older man wanted to be the one to go after J.D. Why he didn't want to risk putting Vin in danger. But knowing still didn't mean Vin had to like it.

+ + + + + + +

The meaning of friendship is the hardest lesson I've had to learn; but , by far the most important . . .

+ + + + + + +

Buck insisted on being the first to be let down into the narrow, dark crevice. He was surprised to find that the earth opened wider the further one descended and by the time he reached bottom, it had given way to a somewhat spacious cavern.

It took only a moment for him to spot J.D. The kid was curled on his side facing the far dirt wall. Wilmington released the rope from around his waist before his feet had even touched ground. Dropping lightly to the dirt, the older man made it to the kid's side within seconds.

"J.D.?"

"Buck?" The younger man shifted slightly and fever glazed eyes blinked open. "It really was you."

"You bet." Wilmington pushed a few long, dark strands of hair away from the boy's face so he could get a better look at him. "Looks like you took yourself quite a trip, huh, kid?" he quipped, trying to hide his fear.

"Yeah," J.D. gave him a slight smile. "Nice of you to drop in."

"I thought you might need some company by now."

A frown marred the sheriff's youthful features. "Meaning , you figured I'd be in trouble by now." The younger man sighed, and winced at the pain the deep exhalation caused.

"Take it easy," Buck comforted. He laid a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "I didn't mean that at all. I know you can take care of yourself, it's just that trouble seems to follow you around a lot more than the rest of us."

"Especially when he's alone." Buck had been so focused on J.D. that he hadn't even realized Chris was now in the cavern with them. The older gunslinger maneuvered around Wilmington and came to kneel on the other side of J.D. "Something we'll discuss later when he's in better shape."

The kid swallowed hard and tried to interpret the myriad of emotions that flashed across the gunslinger's face. They seemed a mixture of anger and fear, with maybe a touch of guilt thrown in for good measure. After all, J.D. knew what guilt looked like. He had undoubtedly, seen it on Buck's face every time he'd managed to get himself hurt over the last year.

But it was misplaced then, and it definitely didn't fit the situation at hand. Chris Larabee had nothing to feel responsible for. J.D. had ended up in this condition all on his own. Well, unless Chris had pissed off some psychotic turkey somewhere along the line, and the gobbler had intentionally lured the young sheriff out to the forest to do away with him as a means of punishing Larabee. But that seemed a little too far fetched for , well, even a dime store novel. Although, the thoughts of Chris seeking revenge by tracking that turkey down and blowing it to bits did bring about a certain pleasant feeling.

"You still with us, kid?" Buck let his worried gaze meet Larabee's . The sheriff had closed his eyes and an almost angelic smile blessed his peaceful features.

"J.D.!" Chris's sharp tone brought the teen to immediate alertness. "Stay awake, you hear me."

"Yes sir," the boy nodded. "I'm awake."

Larabee's face softened and the faintest traces of a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Good. Just keep it that way 'til Nathan checks you out."

"Nathan's here too?" J.D.'s eyes went back to Buck.

"He and the others are up top."

The kid groaned softly, "Great, now I really feel stupid. They're never gonna let me live this down."

Wilmington looked at Chris and smiled. "Don't worry 'bout them, kid. I'll give you so much grief they won't even bother."

"That's a comfort," the sheriff mumbled, trying to sound angry when all he really felt was relief. Having the rest of the seven there was exactly what he needed. J.D. was ready to go home. He made a move to get up when the pain ,he had pushed to the back of his mind, broke through his stone facade with agonizing clarity. The teen tried to stifle the gasp that escaped him , but failed miserably.

"Where you hurtin, J.D.?" Chris asked anxiously, eyes scanning his young friend's form.

"Everywhere," the kid breathed. "But mostly my leg." Scared hazel eyes sought out Buck. "I think I busted it up pretty good."

"Just take it easy." Wilmington stated a lot more calmly than he felt. "I'm sure it ain't nothing Nathan can't fix."

"There's no blood," Larabee observed, running his hand carefully over the unnaturally twisted limb in question.

J.D. still flinched under the gentle scrutiny and drew closer to Buck.

"That's a good sign, J.D." Chris assured. "Means the bone wasn't broke bad enough to pierce the skin."

"It still hurts like hell," the younger man sulked and Buck couldn't help but to laugh.

If his friend was well enough to complain , then he was more than likely going to be just fine. Thank God. "Worse than falling off of Bailey, that first time you rode up to all of us?" Wilmington couldn't resist.

"Ha. ha.," J.D. smirked , only to have Buck ruffle his hair, which really got on his nerves even on a good day.

"If you two would knock it off, I'd really like to get out of this hell hole and be home before the sun comes up." Plus, Chris really wanted to get the sheriff back to town and in a nice, warm, safe room at Nathan's, where he might consider holding him under lock and key for the next couple of years, but saw no reason to point that out.

"Sounds good to me." J.D. agreed, wholeheartedly.

"We're going to have to splint that leg, J.D." Chris's blue eyes met the kid's all to trusting gaze. "It's going to be bad, but we can't risk moving you 'til it's done."

The kid only nodded.

"What are we going to use?" Buck asked, looking around their tight confines.

"How bout these?" Another voice spoke, as Vin Tanner serendipitously dropped from the same rope Buck and Chris had climbed down with. He held two small seedling limbs , about the same size in length. "Nathan figured you'd need 'em."

"You could have dropped them down," Chris pointed out, none too happy with the unexpected company.

"And I figured you'd need my help." Tanner explained, none too apologetically before making his way over to J.D. "How you doing , kid?"

"Been better," the sheriff replied meekly. "I'm real sorry 'bout dragging all of you out here. I know you were planning on leavin' and . . .

A hand on his shoulder stopped J.D.'s words. "Don't worry about it. This wasn't your fault."

The sheriff looked puzzled but before he could ask any questions Chris and Buck were hovering above him once more.

"You ready to do this?" Buck asked squatting beside his friend.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Good." Chris turned to Vin and offered him the make-shift splints. "I'm going to pull his leg straight and then you hold these in place. We'll use our belts to fasten them."

Vin did as he was told as Buck did his best to keep J.D. focused on him, instead of what their partners were about to do. "Did I ever tell you 'bout the time me and old Chris went down to Mexico . . . " Wilmington flinched when the kid screamed but merely squeezed his friend's hand and continued on with his story. It wasn't until J.D. passed out that the older man finally quieted.

"He's unconscious," Buck sighed wearily, taking his jacket off and draping it across the sheriff's still form.

Chris looked up from his task of helping Vin to strap the splint on. He could read the worry in his friend's eyes and knew the procedure had been almost as hard for him as it had for J.D. "That's probably for the best, Buck."

Vin nodded his head, but didn't look up. "At least it will make the task of hauling him out of here a lot less painful." And not just for J.D.

"You boys about ready down there?" Nathan Jackson's anxious voice sounded from above, breaking the growing silence between the three men.

Chris, satisfied with the stability of the splint, glanced at Vin and then Buck. "I'd say we better get home, if we're planning on making this up to the kid."

The first real smile Larabee had seen since this whole mess started, spread across Buck's face.

"I'd say you're right, pard."

"You'll get no arguments from me." Tanner agreed.

"That'll be a nice change," Chris smirked and stood up to get the rope they'd need to fasten around J.D.

"Did you say something, Cowboy?"

Buck heard Vin ask, as he went to help. The older gunslinger looked down at the sleeping J.D. and smiled. "And they say we act like brothers?

Four Corners

J.D. was having the nicest dream. He was home in his warm bed and he could swear he almost felt his mother's presence as she lay a comforting hand on his forehead, the way she always use to do when she was checking for fever or when she just needed to reassure herself that J.D. was alright.

And touch wasn't the only sensation. He could smell something. Something wonderful coming from the kitchen. The tantalizing , spicy aroma swirled about his senses, calling him to consciousness with the promise of pure delight.

The young man smiled to himself and dug deeper into the soft blanket surrounding him, burrowing his face into the plump pillow beneath his head, he hoped to stay in the perfect state he had found for just a few minutes longer. It was almost like being nestled high in the clouds on a perfect, sunny day.

Unfortunately, a loud crash and curse from somewhere beyond yanked him from the gratifying state he was floating in and sent him plummeting from the heavens in quite a state of panic. He was falling. Again.

"No!" J.D. sat up with a start, only to have someone push him back into the pillows.

"Take it easy, J.D. You're alright."

Vin Tanner's soft voice was a surprise and for a moment J.D. just stared at him, not quite a hold of his bearings yet. "I . . . was fallin'," he stammered, trying to get his breathing under control.

"You're fine," the tracker assured, laying a hand on the kids shoulder. "You're safe now. We're home. Remember?"

"Buck?" J.D. let his eyes leave Vin to chance a glance around the room.

"He's downstairs." Tanner smiled and sat back down in the chair he had pulled up to the sheriff's bed. "Blessing out Chris by the sound of it."

"What for?" the younger man began to look less anxious and rested completely back onto the bed.

"Well, it's kind of a surprise," Vin looked unsure and shifted his gaze to the door, before turning back to J.D. "How are you feelin' ?" A change of subject was always a good stall tactic.

The kid didn't seem to buy it, but he humored his friend just the same. "My leg hurts some, but I'm a lot better than I was."

The bounty hunter smiled, "Glad to hear it. You had us all worried there for a while. But Nathan says you're leg should heal just fine, and that your ribs were only bruised."

"That's good," J.D. lowered his head and picked at the small pieces of fuzz on the blanket. . "I'm really sorry for all this , it's just that..I wanted . . . "

"Like I told you before," Vin quickly jumped in. "You don't have anything to apologize for. You're not to blame."

Two wide hazel eyes looked up at him. "Then why are the others mad at me? I mean they're not here. Even Buck. What did you do ? Draw the short piece of straw or somethin'?"

"J.D., you don't understand." Vin got up and came to sit down on the edge of the cot. "Buck was here until about an hour ago. He wouldn't go until your fever had gone down and Nathan assured him you were alright. The others have been here too. Chris was as bad as Buck."

J.D.'s frown seemed to diminish some but he still looked doubtful. Tanner sighed. So much for the surprise.

"I'll have you know that at this very moment, the others are downstairs cooking you the biggest Thanksgiving dinner they can manage. They've been at it all morning."

"Really?" the sheriff's face instantly lit up.

"Really. Chris got a turkey from the Spinster Cromley, Josiah and Nathan borrowed Mr. Gentry's recipe for stuffing, and Ezra's even making his grandma's famous pumpkin pie."

"Ezra has a grandmother?" J.D. looked amazed.

The bounty hunter chuckled, "Apparently. The last report Nathan gave me ,when he came to check on you, was that our friend of chance seemed to know his way around a kitchen almost as good as Buck knows his way around a woman."

"Wow," J.D. whistled, but then looked serious again. "But why? I mean, why are they doing it? I thought none of them wanted anything to do with Thanksgiving?" The kid paused and gave his friend a hard look. "I thought 'you' wanted nothing more than to get out of town for a while?"

Vin took a deep breath and tried to remember half the things that had been going through his brain as he had watched his young friend sleep. A friend who had somehow managed to become more of a brother than a friend. A brother who was only one of the six that made up Vin Tanner's new family. A family that completed Vin Tanner in a way he had never realized he was lacking.. And with that thought, the answer to J.D.'s question dawned on him with crystal clarity.

"I guess we all realized just how much we had to be thankful for."

The kid didn't know quite what to say to that, and he had begun to wonder if he wasn't still back in that hole , having another of those strange dreams when the door to his room swung open and one very angry looking Buck Wilmington entered.

Not only was the gunslinger wearing one of Nellie Benson's best apron's , he was covered from head to toe with flour and some kind of orange gooey stuff.

"Trust in the Lord, Josiah said. He looks like he knows what he's doing, Nathan said." Buck turned dark, fiery eyes on Vin. "How bad can it be?, You said."

Vin tried to control the overwhelming need to laugh out loud at the sight before them and managed a hoarse reply, "I take it Ezra's not the 'profound proficient of culinary delights' that he claimed to be."

"Hardly!" Buck yelled, waving a flour covered arm in the air. "Damn fool blew the doors off Nellie's prize oven. Used enough baking powder to take out half of Fort Laramie."

"My ma never put baking powder in pumpkin pie." J.D. stated, trying to keep his giggling to a minimum. After all, laughing may have been the best medicine but it was not a good prescription for bruised ribs.

"Kid!" Wilmington exclaimed, surprised. "You're awake."

"I was sleeping, Buck. Not dead."

"Yeah, you're not actually at your most quiet when you're mad." Vin pointed out, trying not to look his friend in the face, where dough and pumpkin had strategically placed itself in random spots.

Buck gave the bounty hunter an evil glare. "Chris sent me to get you to help clean up before Nellie makes it back from her sister's. You know how that old lady can swing a broom. And you did use that 'look' to get her to agree to us using the boarding house kitchen."

Tanner gave J.D. one last knowing smile before edging his way carefully around Wilmington. If Buck looked this bad, he couldn't wait to see the others.

"You feelin' O.K.?" the older gunslinger asked, as soon as Vin was out of the room.

"Much better since you got here." J.D. was half joking, but in all honesty, his words held a lot of truth.

"I'm glad to know my suffering wasn't in vain." Buck quipped and took the seat Vin had vacated. "But I'm afraid you're perfect Thanksgiving Dinner isn't going to be all that you had hoped. Not only will we be lacking one of our partners, if Chris ever catches Ezra that is, but we 'won't' be having any pumpkin pie, like your ma use to make."

"None of that dinner stuff ever mattered to me, Buck." J.D. met his friend's remorseful stare. " I just wanted us to be together. All of us, like a family. You know?"

Wilmington sighed. He did know. He knew all too well. "Yeah, I know, kid."

"That's what holidays are really about." J.D. added, a genuine smile lighting his face.

"Is that so?" Buck grinned evilly. "Does that mean I can send your Christmas present back then. Cause, I already got it but if you'd rather just have some quality moments . . . "

"Now, Buck, let's not get carried away here. I didn't exactly mean . . . "

The End