The Family Busines

Twenty-five Years ago, late autumn

Emma Tanner stood by the door to the small house and waved until she could no longer distinguish the outline of her husband as he rode away. Resting her hand on her still-flat stomach, she wondered if she should have told Ryan she was expecting their first child. The thought only flitted through her mind, however, as certainty of the correctness of her decision filled her.

Entering the small house, she settled herself at the table and took out paper, pen and ink. She would need help in the months to come. She knew her father and mother were beginning to feel trapped by the growing city and would enjoy the open space around her home.

With a deep breath, she began to think about what she wanted to include in the letter. Her parents weren't particularly fond of her husband, having never been able to understand why he left her so frequently. In truth, Emma hadn't really understood either until Ryan's mother explained everything to her on their wedding day.

Now, she not only understood, she supported her husband in any and all ways she could, even if it meant letting him go on his own and, possibly, never seeing him again.

Writing the date on the top of the paper, she began her letter to her parents.

+ + + + + + +

Fifteen Years ago, spring

Ryan stopped his horse just before they crested the rise that would allow him his first view of his house in ten years. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and focused on thoughts of Emma. A smile graced his face as he easily pictured his young bride and heard her laughter. He had been gone too long, far too long, but he would make up for that now.

As the house came into view, he knew something wasn't right. There was no activity at the homestead, no horse in the corral. The house itself carried the air of neglect and the prairie grasses were beginning to overgrow the road that lead up to his home.

A sense of fear and dread rose within him, causing panic to rise. He had a deep seated need to run, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to run to the house or away from it. His horse, having recognized civilization continued onward, unaware or uncaring of his master's trepidation.

It wasn't until he was before the door of his house that he became aware enough to stop the horse's progress. Taking in the sight before him, he once more noted the neglected look of the small dwelling; the tattered curtains in the windows and the door hanging only by its top hinge.

"Emma," Ryan whispered, blue eyes locked on the abandoned dwelling.

Suddenly he had to know. No matter what the cost, he had to know. Dismounting, he stepped forward and pushed the door open, entering into the interior.

In the main room, he quickly identified the table, chairs and stove, but there were no personal items. No cloth covering the table, no cushions on the chairs. No sign of plates or silver, no mending basket by the fireplace.

As if walking in a nightmare, he moved through that room to the bedroom at the back. Entering, he saw the bed he had so carefully crafted as a wedding gift for his wife. The quilt she had made to cover it was missing as was all the bedding. The ticking on the mattress looked old as well.

Glancing around the room, he soon spotted the dresser and then froze at what he saw beside it.

Slowly he crossed the room and ran his hand over the object, recognizing his father-in-law's handiwork and carving.

"Oh, God," he gasped, collapsing onto the floor, overwhelmed by his emotions, uncertain what he was feeling. Reaching out with a shaking hand, he slowly traced the name on the cradle. "I have a son," he whispered as tears came to his eyes.

Suddenly angry with himself, he pushed aside his emotions and rose to his feet. He needed to know what happened to his family.

As he finished a detailed inspection of the house, he could feel his frustration grow. There was nothing in the dwelling. No sign of where his family was, no sign of what had happened or when.

With long strides, he exited the building and walked around the outside of the house. As he turned the corner that would lead him to the back of the building, where they had an herb garden, his footsteps faltered and fear once more flooded his system, overriding his control.

Feeling paralyzed by the sight, Ryan could only wonder when he found himself standing before the grave markers which had been twenty feet away just a moment ago. Though his heart was screaming at him not to look, he knew he had no choice. He had to know the truth.

His eyes slid shut as he took a deep breath, centering himself as he would before a fight or battle and slowly released the breath. Opening his eyes, he looked down and read the short inscriptions. The one he stood before was for his mother-in-law with a date of death that was just about five years ago.

As his eyes read the inscription on the next headstone, he found himself once more falling to his knees, this time allowing the grief to overwhelm him as he read, "Here lies Emma Tanner, beloved daughter, wife and mother." It was dated just days after her mother's death.

The pain of loss welled up within Ryan to a point he could no longer control it, until it finally escaped in a soul-shattering scream. Five years ago she had died. Five years ago, he felt like half his soul had been ripped from him on that very night. Now, five years too late, he discovered that the feeling was true. Emma was dead, half his soul was gone.

He lost all track of time as his grief consumed him. Tears poured down his cheeks as great sobs wracked his body. Screams of rage, frustration and pain would tear from him periodically until finally he collapsed in exhaustion.

When he finally awoke several hours later, it was dark and, while the grief and emptiness was still there within him, he felt a spark of hope and life. He had a new purpose. He had a son to find. He swore over Emma's grave that even if it took him the rest of his life, he would find Vin and share what all Tanner men needed to know; what their mothers were meant to tell them.

The next morning, he set off for town and quickly gathered what little information he could. There had been an outbreak of putrid fever five years ago that had taken half the town including Emma and her mother.

By careful questioning, he determined that Vin and his grandfather had left town soon afterward, the older man's grief making it impossible for him to live in the house where he had lost so much. The boy had been five at the time, born about six months after Ryan left, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind it was his. Vin was a tall, thin boy with a ready smile and a mischievous streak in him, but not a mean bone in his body. He was a favorite among the people in town and unfailingly polite. He was a son any father would be proud of and any mother would love.

Ryan also found out that no one in town thought too highly of the man who had abandoned his young, pregnant wife. They all knew that he had left from time to time, but never for so long. Emma had been so sure he would come back, but after the first year, many of the townsfolk felt nothing but pity for the woman. After all, a man didn't just leave his wife for more than a year and then come back.

Though he knew the gossip about him was unfair, his heart warmed that Emma had remained steadfast in her defense of him and in the knowledge that he would be back. In equal measure to that warmth, however, was guilt over what she must have suffered from the cruel gossip, all the time knowing she would never be able to explain.

The final information he was able to gather was that his son and his father-in-law had headed north and west toward the Texas/Oklahoma border, a place Ryan knew to be filled with unease and skirmishes between the native Comanche and Kiowa who lived there and the settlers and white buffalo hunters who wanted to take the land away.

It took Ryan longer than he would have hoped to track down his father-in-law. And a year later, he found himself in a small cemetery looking down at yet another grave marker. Emma's father had died the year before, shortly before he had returned to find his wife dead.

Asking around the area, he wasn't pleased to discover that, rather than taking the boy in, the neighbors had sent him off to an orphanage. Once he got the name of the orphanage, he headed off again, praying he would find his son alive and well rather than another grave marker.

A month later he stepped out of the orphanage.

The people currently running it had only been doing so for three months when it was discovered the previous group were taking the money meant for the children and gambling with it while the children starved and were beaten for any transgression of the rules. Of course, they noted, the mysterious disappearance of children and the final discovery of three dead orphans, only appeared an uninteresting side note to those currently running the facility.

It was only by querying the older children there that he discovered his son had been a favorite target of the ones who ran the orphanage and had finally had enough. Five months ago he had run off without even leaving a hint of where he was headed.

From what the other children had to say, in the few short months his son had been in the orphanage, he had gone from a smiling, laughing, mischief-filled boy to a solemn, silent, angry child.

A shudder of violent rage shook Ryan as he thought of what he would like to do to the men responsible for the mistreatment of his son. If only the judge hadn't hanged them for murdering the children...

Ryan Tanner's mission was not at an end. He still had a son to find. Slapping his gloves against his leg, he mounted his horse and rode away from the orphanage, glad to shake the dust of the place from his boots.

Present

"How long you think you'll be gone?" Larabee asked.

Vin let out a breath of air that sounded suspiciously like a sigh. Looking out at the horizon as if expecting to find an answer, he finally just shrugged and turned back to his horse and his travel preparations. "Don't know. Week. Maybe two," he informed.

Larabee just nodded. Every now and then the urge to get out of town, be somewhere else came upon his friend. He had once asked Tanner why he needed to get out, but the younger man had just shrugged. Though he didn't feel comfortable intruding on his friend's private time, Chris had begun to worry about it.

The seven men had only been together for about a year, but somehow they had become friends and Vin had come to mean as much to him as Buck did. The first time Vin felt the need to leave, Chris hadn't questioned it and let the man go. When the tracker returned with an arm sporting a gunshot wound, he grew concerned, yet several weeks later, Tanner had insisted on riding out again, alone.

"Want company?" the gunslinger asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Vin paused once more in his preparations. "Nah," he said softly. "Someone's gotta stay here and keep the others on their toes." Then, lifting his eyes to meet the hazel ones of his friend, he added, "I'll be back. Don't worry."

Chris suppressed a sigh of his own and asked, "But will you be back in one piece?" His only response was a crooked grin as the younger man mounted his horse and tipped his hat. "Watch your back!" the blond called out after his friend. Vin lifted his hand to show he had heard as he headed out of town.

+ + + + + + +

Stepping out of the boarding house, Chris paused and took in the activity of the street. Things were calm now. The businesses were just beginning to prepare for the day and people would just be finishing up their breakfasts. A part of him missed Vin and the quiet time they shared in the morning, but he knew his friend would be back. So far, the younger man had only been gone for four days. It was rare for him to be gone less than a week.

As he was trying to decide whether to go to the saloon for a drink or take a quick patrol of the town, Larabee's attention was caught by the sight of a lone rider headed into town from the East. Eyes narrowing, he took in the weary, dusty form of the man and noted the horse looked equally tired. The amount of dust seemed appropriate for someone who had been on the trail for a long time.

He watched as the man stopped before the livery and dismounted. A few moments later he saw the new stable boy come out and talk to the man. Knowing there was only one place open in town that served breakfast, Chris headed that way, expecting the stranger would find his way there soon enough.

Stepping into the saloon, Chris made eye contact with Ezra and Buck who were also in the establishment before making his way to the bar.

"Senior Chris?" Inez asked, noting the edge of alertness in the gunman.

"Coffee," Larabee responded with a smile he wasn't sure he felt. He nodded his thanks as the cup was placed before him. Taking a sip, he waited and watched as the batwing doors opened and the stranger stepped into the room.

The man quickly scanned the patrons before making his way to the bar. The three peacekeepers watched his movements surreptitiously, trying to evaluate the man's threat level. He moved like someone who was sure of himself, sure of his abilities. The light tread indicated a man who was ready for action when it came his way. The flash of a gun on his hip and the hilt of the knife sticking out above the top of his boot bespoke a man who could deal death if needed. The thick layer of dust and air of weariness that seemed to blanket the man tempered his deadly edge.

Deciding the stranger wasn't looking to start trouble, Larabee picked up his coffee and moved toward one of the tables. He settled in and listened as the new arrival asked for coffee and some food from Inez before finding a table of his own.

It was only a few minutes later when Inez returned from the back room with a plate of food. As it was placed before the dusty man, he looked up and smiled his thanks at the young woman.

At the smile and quiet thanks, Inez froze in place, her eyes growing wide in surprise. Chris froze at his table and Buck inhaled sharply and audibly. Except for the lines of age, the face was that of Vin Tanner.

Quickly recovering herself, Inez smiled and replied, "You're welcome." Her eyes briefly touched those of the blond peacekeeper as she returned behind the bar, settling near the opening to the back room should she need to leave quickly.

Startled by the man's appearance, Chris met both Buck's and Ezra's eyes. Wilmington had been telling Ezra what they had seen. Both men were now ready to back Chris' move, whatever it may prove to be.

Rising from his seat, Larabee took his coffee and settled at the other man's table without being asked. He was rewarded with a closer look at the face far too similar to his friend's to be coincidence. Now able to get a closer look, it was easier to see the differences between this man and his friend. This stranger's face was more full and the eyes were a warm brown. As with Vin, there were shadows of dark things that seemed to dwell in the eyes, but with that, there was a brilliant flame of life and a tiny spark of mischief.

"Help you?" the stranger asked.

Chris held the gaze for several seconds before replying, "I help watch over this town, help keep the peace." When the man nodded, he continued, "When strangers come to town I like to make sure they aren't looking to cause trouble." His only response was another nod. "You here to cause trouble?"

"No," the man finally replied. The raised blond eyebrow was a demand that was easily interpreted. "May be that my business is my own," he replied to the silent query, his voice neutral.

Larabee was not happy with that response and let his displeasure show in his expression.

The stranger leaned back in his seat, amusement visible in his eyes as a familiar crooked smile tugged at his lips. "I'm not here to cause trouble," he assured. "I just have something I need to do and then I'll be moving along."

"And what is this ‘something' you have to do?" Larabee inquired darkly.

The amusement faded from the other man's face. "That is something I can't tell you, Mr. Larabee," the stranger replied.

Hazel eyes narrowed at the mention of his name. Who was this man? Had they had dealings in the past? Chris didn't think so, he would remember a run-in with a man who looked exactly like his friend.

Letting out a sigh, the stranger took off his hat and ran a hand through his wavy hair. He was tired and not looking to play games. Resting his arms on the table he leaned forward, caught and held Larabee's eyes. He couldn't tell the man everything, but hopefully he could allay some of the man's concerns. "I'm here to see my son," he admitted, not willing to say his son's name aloud. He had found the wanted poster and done some research into the murder accusation. There wasn't enough to make the charge stick and he knew none of his family would be able to commit such a heinous crime. He also wasn't sure if Vin was going by his own name or by an alias. Until he found the boy himself, he would keep quiet about it.

"And you would be?" Larabee pried when it appeared the man would not be revealing anything else. He was rewarded with a familiar cocky grin.

"I would be hungry," the man replied. "So I will be finishing my breakfast. Then I will be going to get a room at the hotel and, possibly, a bath at the bathhouse I saw here in town." He wasn't deliberately trying to goad Larabee's temper, well, not too much, but he didn't know this man and wasn't sure with how much to trust him.

Frustrated by the man's attitude and unwillingness to be intimidated, Chris rose from his seat, met and held the other man's eyes. "Be sure that's all you do," he advised. Deciding he would take a chance on the man's name, he continued, "We'll be keeping an eye on you, Mr. Tanner." He felt a small tug of frustration as the man only smiled at the identification. Chris could see he was right, that the man was some kin of Vin's, but that didn't tell him what he really needed to know, was the man a danger to his friend?

Watching the man in black set his coffee cup on the bar and leave, Ryan let out a sigh. After seeing the wanted poster, he knew he and his son looked alike, so it hadn't really surprised him when Larabee identified him. Tanner had also found out from the gunslinger's reactions, that his son was good friends with the blond and that Vin was using his own name, otherwise the peacekeeper would have used a different name.

Settling back in to finish his meal, Ryan thought about what he had revealed of his own plans. He had let slip that he was here to talk to his son, which meant that Larabee now knew he was Vin's father. That could be either good or bad. He was sure the fact it had taken him Vin's entire life to find him certainly wouldn't count in his favor.

A sigh escaped Ryan as he thought about everything he had missed. A part of him had always wanted to be a father, to be there for a boy the way his own father had never been, but that wasn't to be. In the Tanner family, that could never be. Now he just had to pass the time until he could find Vin and explain it all to the boy… the young man. If nothing else, it should at least help Vin understand.

+ + + + + + +

Chris Larabee took the remainder of the cheroot he'd been smoking and dropped it on the boardwalk, crushing it beneath the heel of his boot, his eyes locked on the door to the hotel.

Ten days ago, Vin Tanner had ridden out of town. Six days ago, Vin's father had arrived in town. Vin's father who Larabee was pretty sure had never laid eyes on his son. And that didn't sit well with the gunslinger.

The fact that Ryan Tanner had remained silent as to his reasons for seeking Larabee's friend only added to Chris' anxiety. The six peacekeepers had met to discuss the man's presence and motives the first day Tanner had come to town. They had agreed to keep a close eye on the man, but were at odds with regard to what they felt were Ryan's motivations.

So far, other than keeping to himself, the elder Tanner had done nothing but help people around the town, just as his son did. In fact, the more he had watched him, the more of Vin's traits and actions he saw in Ryan Tanner. This observation led him to begin to question if, perhaps, Ryan's motives might be honest.

Larabee's train of thought broke off at that point as the subject of his musings stepped out of the hotel. There was a subtle change in the man's stance and face that caused the blond to straighten and pay closer attention to the other man's actions. There was a pair of saddlebags tossed over the Tanner's shoulders and instead of the neutral expression he had been wearing for the past six days, concern was easily read on Ryan's face.

As Vin's father headed toward the livery, Chris moved to follow. He wasn't going to crowd the man, but something about the change in behavior was causing his hackles to rise.

Reaching the livery only moments after the other man, Chris spotted Tanner saddling his horse. "Going somewhere?" he asked quietly, stopping outside the stall in questions.

Ryan looked over at the man in black briefly before turning his attention back to preparing his horse. "Yes," came the simple reply.

Several questions ran through his mind that he wanted to ask, but the one that came out wasn't one Larabee had expected. "You need some help?"

The older man paused again, thinking over the question. Chris couldn't read everything that passed over the man's face, but he could read enough to know that whatever was driving Tanner out of town this morning was urgent. After several minutes of silence, Ryan nodded that he would accept Larabee's help. The blond moved off to saddle his own horse, wondering what exactly he'd just gotten himself into.

+ + + + + + +

Vin hissed in pain as he eased himself down onto his bedroll. He should have listened to the Stones, he should have stayed and healed, but he had already been gone ten days and knew Chris and the others would come looking before too long. One week they would give him, two and they'd come looking.

Sighing in relief as he, finally, was able to stop moving, the tracker thought back on this latest trip. Buck frequently teased him about being able to attract trouble when none was around. Tanner always let the comment slide, but he was beginning to believe it himself. Each time the need to be somewhere else, somewhere out there, overcame him, he could only wonder what new misadventure awaited.

Closing his eyes, he tried to recapture the peace and wonder of those first days on the trail.

He had headed out in good spirits, anxious to get away from the hustle and bustle of the town. The others teased him about his dislike of civilization, and that was part of it, but even more than an urge to be surrounded by the peaceful songs of nature, was the almost unbearable feeling that he needed to be somewhere else. It was this need to be elsewhere that he could never rightly explain. As odd as it was, it had been with him his whole life. Even when he was little, when his grandfather was still alive, he had felt the need to take off every now and then. The man had blamed Vin's father for the wanderlust that caused the boy to take off on his own. Vin didn't really care. When the need to be elsewhere came upon him, he had little choice but to obey the calling.

While buffalo hunting, he had difficulty staying with the other hunters. Eventually he left and somehow found himself welcomed in a Comanche camp. The fact that he had saved the life of the chief's son probably had something to do with that.

A small smile appeared on Vin's lips as he thought of Chanu. One more and saving the life of chiefs' sons would be a habit. Still, he had been welcomed to the Comanche family. The band seemed to understand his need to leave periodically and never questioned what he got up to. When the army came through and rounded up his band, Tanner had been away from the camp. He never forgave the army, or himself, for the death of so many he held dear.

He had fallen in with some Kiowa shortly afterward and formed new attachments, though his recent loss hadn't allowed him to fully accept those people into his heart. They too had understood his need to leave every now and then. In fact, they seemed to understand it better than he did.

After a few months with his new friends, the need to be moving came upon him and he left the small camp, heading out toward his unknown destiny.

His wanderings had led him to his first bounty. He had been riding in a southwesterly direction for a few weeks when he came upon a group of settlers being attacked by some outlaws. His sense of right nearly overwhelming him, he had rushed into the fray and turned the tide. The two outlaws who still could, took off.

Upon the urging of the man and his wife, Vin had taken off after the duo and eventually caught up with them. When he brought them in to the local sheriff, the man had given Tanner a slip of paper and told him to take it to the bank. Not sure of what was going on, Tanner had decided to do the favor for the man and headed off. It was while he was at the bank that he discovered the money wasn't for the sheriff, but for him. That was his first bounty.

An understanding had lit within Vin at that point. It had nothing to do with the money, but with the knowledge that the men on the wanted posters were out there somewhere hurting innocent people. That was something Tanner couldn't abide. When he left the bank, he had a new profession.

His thoughts returning to the present, the young peacekeeper removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair. This last time, he had been heading out for a small cave he had found on the side of a local mountain. The shelter was perfect protection from the elements, strategically sound and offered spectacular views of the surrounding area.

As he passed the Stone farm, something had tugged at him, causing him to turn up the drive and check on the family. When he first arrived, everything seemed to be going well. Mrs. Stone was hanging out some washing and the older kids were just coming in from the fields. He asked after Mr. Stone and was directed to the barn. As soon as his eyes fell on that building, a familiar sense of urgency consumed him.

Hastening his steps, he entered the barn just as one of the boards from the hayloft gave an ominous creak followed by a loud crack.

With no time for thought, Tanner dove for the farmer who was standing under the hayloft.

He managed to knock Mr. Stone out of the way, taking the force of the falling hay bales on himself.

Fortunately, the two men had been knocked out from under the worst of the falling hay, but enough caught Vin on the back and legs to leave him bruised, breathless and in pain. Shortly thereafter, he had fallen into unconsciousness.

He had woken up some time the next day and found almost every muscle in his body ached and his legs were sending shooting pains through him whenever he moved. Mrs. Stone had been in the room with him and explained that, after knocking her husband out of the way, the hay bales and some of the boards had fallen on him, bruising his back and legs, but both of them had survived. She was certain that if he hadn't been there, her husband would now be dead.

A soft chuckle sounded in the clearing as Vin once more felt his embarrassment from the praise. He had done nothing special, just been where he was needed when he was needed. That statement hadn't helped him deflect any of their thanks though. When he grew too uncomfortable, he had made an excuse and left. Now he was taking his time to return to town, still too sore to ride for very long.

As he let that thought pass, he listened to the peaceful sounds around him. It wasn't that nature was silent, but there was a difference between the sounds created by man and man's inventions and those found away from civilization. It was in places like this, at times like this that his soul healed. It was at times like this that he could forgive the father he had never met for not being there. Seeing other boys with their fathers was a sometimes painful event. He had never known his father, never seen him. With her dying breath his mother had defended him, expressed her love for him, but Vin had never been able to avoid the resentment and hurt he felt over the fact his father had just left and never returned, never tried to find him. Still, for his mother's sake, he had done his best to live up to her expectation.

The sound of approaching horses disturbed his reverie. Lifting his mare's leg, he bit back a groan as he tried to rise, the bruising and stiffness having returned. Once he had gained his feet, he sought shelter in some nearby bushes.

It was only a moment or two later when he spotted the first of the horses and began to relax. Part of Vin was relieved to see his friend approaching, but life had taught the tracker to be cautious and evaluate a situation before revealing yourself. When he didn't recognize the second man, some of the tension that had left his body returned, despite the feeling that there was something familiar about the stranger.

As the two riders entered the small clearing, the evidence of Vin's time there was still visible; the bedroll beneath the tree, the canteen laying nearby, the man's horse tethered down near the stream. Seeing no sign of the man they sought, Chris dismounted and led his horse to the same area where Vin's was tied.

"He's OK, Vin," Larabee called out, knowing his friend was nearby. A rustle over in the bushes alerted him to the tracker's location and he glanced up, keeping a close eye on the younger man. Chris made sure he had a clear line to Ryan Tanner. The fact the man had led them straight here, almost as if he knew Vin would be waiting here, had disturbed the gunslinger. If the older Tanner's intentions were anything harmful to Vin, Ryan Tanner wouldn't make it back to town.

For his part, Ryan could feel himself tensing and his stomach churning at the thought that his fifteen-year search was almost over. Regrets and fear swept through him as he thought of all he'd missed and a pang of grief sounded in his heart as he realized the man he was about to meet was a living part of his wife. He had so much to tell his son, so much he wanted to tell him, but knew that it was probably too late for any sort of relationship between them.

His breath caught in his throat as a young man emerged from the brush bearing his face and Emma's eyes.

Vin stepped out of his cover slowly, his gun still in hand, but pointed at the ground rather than the stranger. He noted Chris standing about ninety degrees from him and saw his friend nod, letting Vin know that Larabee had his back. Allowing himself to take in the stranger's appearance, the tracker felt his heartbeat quicken as he looked at a face far too similar to his own to belong to anyone other than near kin.

The three men stood silently for several moments, the Tanner men forgetting about the presence of the man in black. "Who are you?" Vin finally rasped out past his emotion-clogged throat. "What do you want?"

It was the moment of truth, the moment Ryan had been looking forward to and dreading for so many years. "My name's Ryan Tanner," he began, holding the blue eyes with his own. "I'm your father."

Powerful waves of conflicting emotion crashed through Vin at that announcement, tearing a gasp from him. All color drained from his face and he began to tremble. Anger engulfed him, paired closely with the pain of all the years when he had wondered where his father was and why the man didn't want him or his mother. The hope and longing of his childhood swarmed up through him at the realization that his long-held dream of family was real. Disbelief flowed down through him that this man could be who he said he was. All of it stole his ability to speak and function.

As his internal world was tossed into turmoil, he lost track of what was going on around him. Images and emotions flew through him at such a rapid rate, he couldn't take in any other data.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he felt a sharp sting on his cheek and heard Chris' panicked voice calling his name.

Opening his mouth, he gasped in air as one final tremor shook through him and the world once more came into focus. Vin found he was sitting on his bedroll with Chris by his side, speaking softly to him and holding him up with one arm. Taking several more deep breaths and ruthlessly shoving aside his tumultuous emotions, the tracker looked over at the man who claimed to be his father and knew that claim to be true.

Taking a closer look, it was easy for him to note that there was more than just a passing resemblance. Though they had never met, the older Tanner's expression and stance was one Vin knew he took as well when unsure of himself. Trying to keep the emotions out of his voice, he asked, "What do you want?"

The older Tanner was quiet for a moment, fighting back the urge to say he wanted another chance with his son, that he wanted to be a father, but he knew it was not the time, if there ever would be one, so he focused on the business at hand. "There are some things I have to tell you about our family, about being a Tanner. Things you were too young to hear from your mother," his voice broke on the word mother and he quickly clamped his jaws shut to keep the emotion from spilling out.

The crack in his father's voice hadn't gone unnoticed by Vin. He could easily read the pain and anguish the other man experienced at the mention of his wife. The faint whisper of his mother's voice echoed in his mind ‘you're a Tanner'. She had said that to him as if being a Tanner was something good and honorable, as if it was important. His mother hadn't spoken of her husband often, at least not that he could remember, however, Vin could remember the warmth and love in her tone when she did. For his mother's sake, he would hear the man out. Nodding he said, "You can say your piece."

Knowing he could expect nothing more right now, Ryan settled on the ground facing Vin. His eyes slid over to take in Chris and he stiffened slightly. Clearing his throat, he spoke to the blond, "Mr. Larabee, I know you don't trust me and I can understand why, but what I have to say to Vin is something that must remain in our family alone." When Chris tensed and narrowed his eyes, Ryan continued, "I'm not asking you to leave, just to give us some privacy." Seeing that Larabee was thinking it over, he took a deep breath and added, "I would appreciate it if you would stay around a while. We might need you." The last statement caused surprise to flash across both faces, but the elder Tanner only smiled slightly and waited.

Larabee looked over at his friend and tried to read what Vin wanted. When the tracker offered a small smile and a slight nod, Chris rose to his feet and dusted off his pants. "I'll be over by the horses," he informed before setting off, aware of the other two men following his movements with their gazes. He heard the gentle rise and fall of voices as he settled on a fallen log and pulled out a carving he'd been working on, knowing Vin would tell him whatever he needed to know later.

As the two Tanner men watched Larabee walk away, Vin was the one who broke the silence. "Talk," he commanded, unable to stop a wince as he shifted, trying to make himself more comfortable. He noticed the flash of concern in the other man's – his father's – eyes, and found he was both grateful and disappointed when the other man made no move to help.

Now that the moment he had been waiting for so long had finally come, Ryan found he wasn't sure where to begin. His first desire was to explain what had happened and why it had taken him so long to find his son, but the same instinct that had led him to leave town and search out his son, was letting him know there wasn't a lot of time. Taking a deep breath, he began with a question, "What sort of stories did Emma tell you when you were a boy?"

Surprised by the question, Vin thought about it a few minutes. "She liked to tell me old stories from books, Robin Hood, stuff about knights and battles," he replied.

Nodding and letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, Ryan replied, "That's good. It will help you understand more of what I'm going to tell you." Taking a moment to organize his thoughts, he began his narrative, "A long time ago, in the age of knights and chivalry, one of our ancestors fought valiantly in the defense of a small village. He took mercy on his enemies and let them live. This act of kindness in combination with the stand he and his squire had taken soon began to spread from one village to the next, creating a reputation for the knight. He continued on with the business of being a knight and his reputation continued to grow. As with anyone who has a reputation, he had enemies as well.

"There was a time when he had been called out to a far-off village, he arrived and found that the village was in no danger and no one had called him. Becoming alarmed, he raced back toward his home, only to find it in ruins and those in his charge injured or dead. His wife and young children had been murdered in their beds. In his grief, he buried his family and then set off into the wilderness with no quest and no thought of what he would do.

"As he traveled, he would occasionally find people in need of help and do what he could. One day he came upon a small building under attack. Recognizing the attacker as someone he had fought before, he joined the fray. After a long, bloody battle, the attackers left and our relative went into the building to make sure those inside were well.

"As he entered, he discovered the building was a small chapel. Inside sat a holy man. Discovering the man was unharmed, he turned to leave when the other's voice stopped him. In exchange for saving his life, the holy man offered a blessing upon the knight.

"Still suffering from the grief of losing his family, the knight told him he needed no blessing. The only thing he had valued was his family and he had been too late to save them. He then quietly added his only desire was to ensure no one else would suffer as he had and then turned to leave.

"As the knight reached the door, the holy man spoke, asking him to stop and turn. When the knight was once more facing him, the holy man said, ‘That is a blessing I can give you. You and all your line will be drawn to those people who need you, to those who would suffer as you have and will save those who can be saved. There are evils out in this world, knight, that would fight against you, seek to keep you from where you need to be, seek to destroy you. You will not win every battle against these forces, but with strength and perseverance, you and all your line will succeed.'

"Having heard the words, the knight nodded and left, uncertain how much of the man's words to believe. Soon, he discovered exactly what the man's words meant. He would, at times, find himself irresistibly drawn to ride to a certain place, a place he'd never been. Invariably, he would be there in time to prevent some disaster or defend someone who needed defending. Eventually, he met another woman who he took to be his wife and they had children. His children showed the same trait, the same ability to be where they were needed, the same sense of honor. The holy man proved to be right, however, and one day, traveling to help someone, he found himself caught in a trap of his enemy's making and died.

"His oldest son found him some time later and brought his body back. It was after the funeral feast that the wife informed her children of the blessing that had been spoken upon the knight's family and what it meant to each of them. She cautioned her children not to share the information with others in case their enemies found out and sought them out to destroy them.

"So, from that day to this, when a Tanner child turns the age of twelve, his mother tells him the history of our family," Ryan said, done with that part of the story and knowing there was so much more to say, so much more he wanted to say, but also knowing that Vin needed to absorb the information.

The tracker had sat and listened to the story his father told, at first in disbelief, but the more he listened, the more he could match up what he was being told to what he had experienced in his own life. It made sense and explained not only why he was suddenly taken with the need to go, but also what he had been told when he was with the Kiowa.

As the silence dragged on for several minutes, Vin decided he would share what he knew with his father. "When I was staying with the Kiowa, I was told that the spirits had a special plan for my path, one that would bring great honor as well as great danger." Lifting his eyes to meet those of his father, he nodded and said, "I believe you."

Ryan slowly let out the breath he'd taken and held when Vin began to speak and nodded back. "Good," he said. "There's more we have to discuss, a lot more I have to tell you and a lot more I want to, but right now, we need to gather our things and get ready to go."

Vin's eyes narrowed at the statement. He hadn't felt any urgency to move, but could see the need to go in his father's eyes, a look he had seen often enough in his own. "Alright," he said, standing and gathering his gear.

Seeing the two men rise from their positions, Chris put away his carving and knife. Standing, he, too, began preparing to leave. The three men had just reached the road back to town when the elder Tanner drew up short and looked around.

"Follow me!" Ryan called out turning his horse and heading back the way they had come, he rode through the small clearing, crossed the brook and made his way to the other side with Chris right behind him and Vin bringing up the rear, neither of the younger men questioning the order.

After a short distance of riding through trees, the three men found themselves in fairly open land. The ground swelled with gently rolling hills, but otherwise allowed them the ability of riding three abreast.

Just as Chris was about to rein in and demand to know why they were running, the report of a rifle echoed in the open. Moments later a puff of dust kicked up in front of the racing men. Seeing a stand of trees ahead that might offer some shelter, Larabee urged his horse onward. He had pulled ahead of the others, leading the way to the relative safety of the trees, when he glanced back and saw Ryan Tanner draw his feet up out of the stirrups and onto the saddle, loop the reins around his saddle horn and leap at Vin, taking the other man down off of his horse seconds before another rifle report echoed.

Slowing his horse, Chris felt all the color drain from his face at the sight of his friend and his friend's father lying still on the ground. As he approached the men, he managed to catch the reins of Vin's horse and lead the fearful mount back to the fallen men.

With deliberate movements, Chris stopped his horse between the Tanners and the direction from which the bullets had come. Quickly dismounting, he continued to hold the reins and crouched down to check the two men. It was easy to see the problem with the elder Tanner, the growing crimson stain along the side of the man's back revealed the bullet had found a target.

Vin's face was white with pain. Both men appeared to be conscious, but stunned. "We've got to go. Those men will be gaining," Larabee said, his voice harsh from worry and fear. He didn't mean to sound heartless, but they were exposed and vulnerable where they were.

Doing his best to ignore the pain, Ryan groaned as he rolled off of his son. "Go," he commanded, eyes clenched tightly shut. He could hear and feel Vin scrambling to his feet and was startled when he felt two sets of hands fall upon him, one on each arm.

"Ain't leaving you here," Vin informed through gritted teeth. Forcing his eyes open, Ryan saw the determination in his son's face and nodded. Taking as deep a breath as he could, he focused on the movements necessary to stand.

Chris led the man over to his horse. "Could only catch one," he informed shortly as he moved to assist Ryan in mounting his horse. "Vin's in no shape to hold you on."

Only able to offer a tight nod of understanding, the older Tanner released a groan of pain as he found himself almost lifted by the two younger men onto the horse. He quickly shuffled back until he was no longer on the saddle, but sitting behind it. Noticing the flash of displeasure cross the younger man's face, Ryan refused to budge. Chris would need to be in full control of the animal and couldn't do that if he was trying to hold an injured man on as well. "I'll make it," the older man affirmed. A puff of dust and another echo decided the issue and Chris mounted.

Soon the two horses and three men were headed toward the small stand of trees.

Shots echoed around them, urging them forward toward the tree line. As they reached the minimal shelter, they continued inward, knowing there was a water source nearby.

They soon found the stream, most likely the same one as before.

Scanning both ways, Vin spotted a cave not too far downstream on the other side of the river. Catching Chris' eye, he simply indicated the direction with his head and started to make his way there, well aware that their time to prepare for whoever was after them was limited. With any luck, the cave would prove to be a defensible position.

Reaching the entrance to the cave, Vin dismounted, keeping his horse's reins in hand and approached the opening. There was a small stream of water running out of it and the entrance was fairly narrow, but he could see that is soon opened up into a much larger cave; large enough for the three men and their horses anyway.

A quick motion to Chris had the others approaching. Satisfied that they were following, Vin entered the cavern and quickly settled his horse toward the back.

Moments later he was joined by Chris and Ryan. Taking in the pale face and increasingly red shirt, Vin locked eyes with Chris, unable to explain the fear that rose within him at the thought of this man, more stranger than kin, dying. "I'll lay out a bedroll then help you get him off the horse." Larabee nodded his agreement. Less than two minutes later, he and Vin were helping the nearly unconscious Ryan Tanner off the back of the horse.

Taking a look at the worry and small amount of fear in his friend's eyes, Chris decided he would tend to the older man and have Vin set watch. "Why don't you bring over all of our saddle bags and then keep a look out for whoever is following us?" he suggested. "I'll see to him."

Vin could only nod his agreement, his eyes still locked on his father, watching each expansion and contraction of the man's chest, hoping it wouldn't stop.

With some effort, Vin managed to tear his eyes away and do as Chris suggested. After dropping off the saddlebags, he headed toward the opening of the cave and found a sheltered position from which to keep watch.

Quickly opening his saddlebags, Chris began pulling out what he thought he would need, a knife, whiskey, and a shirt he could use to make bandages. Feeling only slightly guilty as he did so, he rifled through the contents of Vin and Ryan's saddlebags as well. He found a small bottle of carbolic acid and some bandages in Ryan's and a needle and thread in Vin's.

Returning his shirt to his own saddlebags, Chris laid out his tools and then turned toward his patient. "Gotta remove your shirt," he informed the injured man curtly. His only response was a nod as Ryan unbuttoned his cuffs and began to work on the buttons up front. Seeing the older man was having difficulties working around his trembling hands, Chris reached out to help, quickly unbuttoning and removing the shirt. He then helped the other man unbutton the top of the union suit he was wearing and peel the blood-soaked garment from his body.

While the injured man was still in a semi-upright position, Larabee quickly scanned for the bullet wound. He wouldn't be able to tell for sure until he cleaned up the blood, but it looked like the bullet had gone through the side of Ryan's chest. The wound itself was shallow and, Chris hoped, had missed the lungs, but he highly doubted it had missed the older man's ribs. With any luck, the rib would be broken, not shattered. Taking one of the bandages, he poured whiskey on it and began wiping away the blood closest to the wound. The give he felt as he wiped over the area confirmed his suspicion of a broken rib. He could only hope that the ride to the cave hadn't punctured a lung. A sharp hiss of pain as he passed the cloth over the entrance wound alerted the blond to the fact his patient was still awake.

Looking up, he took in the pale face. "Probably be easier if you weren't awake," he said quietly.

"Be safer if I was," the older main's pain-filled voice rasped. "Doesn't feel like it hit the lung, but I'm thinking I've got a broken rib."

"You're thinking right," Larabee agreed, setting aside the bloody rag and ripping a bandage in half. He poured some more of the alcohol on each half of the bandage and reached one had toward the entrance wound and another toward the exit. He paused just before he applied the compresses, looked into the pained eyes and informed, "This is going to hurt." The only response was a tightening of the man's jaw and a short nod.

Continuing on his course, Chris applied the compresses and pressed down hard, knowing he needed to stop the bleeding. His action was met with a strangled scream and a long, low hiss of breath.

Vin heard the soft exchange and the sounds of pain coming from his father and felt his stomach churn. The fall from his horse and breaking his father's fall hadn't helped his bruised back or legs, but he was still mobile enough to fight.

The tracker's emotions were in turmoil over the revelation that his father was not only alive, but had come looking for him. He wasn't sure how to feel or whether he should resent the man.

Deciding now was not the time to deal with those issues, the younger Tanner scanned the brush outside once more. His blue eyes narrowed as he thought he caught the sound of unnatural rustling back the way they had come, but he couldn't see anything, at least not yet. Still, he cocked his weapon in preparation.

As he waited, his mind wandered back over the story his father had told him. Part of him wanted to dismiss such things as impossible, but he had seen too much in his few years to completely disbelieve the thought. The fact that it did agree with what he had experienced and been told as well as the fact his father had known exactly when to leave and had managed to knock Vin out of harm's way only reinforced what Ryan Tanner said.

These thoughts, however, led to other questions. Why, if he and his father shared this "blessing," did their paths not cross earlier? Were there other members of their family out there? Did the women of their family have the same mission? And most importantly, if it was his destiny to save others from the torment of his ancestor, then why couldn't he have been there for Chris and his family?

A flash of light caught his attention. Narrowing his eyes, he hissed at his friend and his father as a warning that danger was coming.

He didn't turn to see if his message had been received or not, but, instead, aimed at the movement on the other side of the stream.

The quiet sound of water moving over pebbles and rustling leaves were the only sounds that reached his ears for several seconds, then a soft curse sounded. Though he knew the man had whispered, it sounded almost like a shout to the intent tracker. The swear was followed by a low voice shushing the other.

"Shh," the second voice hissed. "I heard that Tanner had ears like a rabbit and could hear a man's whisper in a wind storm."

"Then shut up," the first voice whispered back.

"Both of you shut up," a third voice advised harshly. "I don't aim on losing five hundred dollars because the pair of you couldn't keep your mouths shut."

The voices ceased again, but Vin had learned a lot. There were, most likely, only three men and two of them were taking their lead from the third. Given what he knew of bounty hunters, Tanner surmised that the leader most likely considered the other two expendable. He would probably keep them around long enough to get Vin's body to Tascosa and then kill them and keep the money, he'd seen it happen before.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw that Chris was sewing up the wounds in the elder Tanner's side. As for his father, Vin swallowed the worry that rose when he noticed the other man wasn't even flinching at the ministrations.

With great effort, he tore his eyes away from his father, pushed all concern out of his mind and focused on the men who were after the bounty.

Finishing his ministrations, Chris poured a little carbolic on two rags and placed them over the entrance and exit wounds. The next part would be easier with Vin's help, or if Ryan were conscious, but the man had passed out not too long before and Larabee was loath to wake him.

With a quick look at his friend, the gunslinger noted the intent posture of the younger man. His fingers itched to draw his weapon and join Vin, but he needed to finish with the older Tanner and make sure the man was alright before doing anything else.

Once finished, he placed his own bedroll over the unconscious man and moved forward to join his friend.

Keeping to the shadows, he moved toward the mouth of the cave and took cover behind a rock. Glancing outside, he didn't immediately see anything and turned to face the younger man, knowing Vin would tell him what he needed to know.

As he waited for the tracker to acknowledge him, he nearly gasped at the lack of color and lines of pain he saw on the other man's face. Thinking back to the Vin's stiffness at the clearing and the hard landing he had on the ground when he and Ryan fell from their moving horses, Larabee cursed silently at not having thought Vin might be injured.

Just as he was about to move over to check on his friend, Vin turned and met the gunman's gaze.

Frowning at the concern he saw in the face, Tanner held up three fingers and then pointed to an area slightly upstream from the cave entrance. Nodding his understanding, Chris focused his attention on the area Vin had indicated, trusting that his friend would let him know if he needed help.

He was rewarded a few minutes later when one of the three men made his way to the stream. Given the state of the man's dress, Larabee could tell he'd been on the trail for a while.

Watching carefully, Chris knew the man wouldn't offer too much of a problem should it come to a confrontation. Years of experience wouldn't allow him to discount the man entirely, though. He had learned in the war that sometimes the ones you counted out of the fight were the ones that did the most damage.

A soft tapping drew his attention back to Vin. Looking at the younger man, he watched as his friend indicated he was going to go out and scout around, see if he could get a better idea of what they were facing.

With a vehement shake of his head, Chris denied the suggestion. The last thing he needed was Vin going out there on his own and maybe getting caught. Given that the tracker was apparently the one the men had been shooting at in the first place, Larabee could only assume they were bounty hunters. Vin's anger at the negation was evident on his face, but Chris remained resolute. He would not split the three of them up even for a little while. Nor was he willing to let his friend face these men alone.

Knowing it was tantamount to blackmail, Larabee moved slightly from behind his cover and grabbed Tanner's arm. He locked gazes with the younger man and shook his head once more denying the plan. Seeing the angry protest begin, he shot his eyes toward the back of the cave to where Ryan Tanner lay.

Maintaining his grip on Vin's arm, he waited for his friend to think it all through. Were it just the two of them, he might consider going out there with Vin and getting the jump on the bounty hunters. As it stood, with an injured man, things changed. Now they needed to get out of there and back to town as quickly as possible and that meant someone would have to ride with Ryan Tanner, something they could not do if either of them got injured.

Seeing the understanding come to his friend's blue eyes, Larabee nodded, an unspoken question asking if Vin now understood. A slight lifting of the other man's chin communicated the tracker's understanding as well as his displeasure with the situation.

Turning his attention back to the world outside the cave, Vin kept an eye out for their enemies. Seeing this, Chris, too, began watching and waiting.

Two hours later, their pursuers broke their temporary camp and continued on past the mouth of the cave, never once looking their way.

The two peacekeepers waited another hour before deciding it was safe to make their own preparations to leave.

By the time they had everything packed and got Ryan mounted in front of Chris, it was only about an hour before sunset. Though not an easy trip to make in the dark, Vin and Chris knew the darkness would only be in their favor.

Since the men who had been chasing them continued downstream, Vin, led the trio upstream and eventually over to the main road, a slightly less dangerous course to maintain.

The ride back to town was not an easy one. Between trying to keep the pace slow in the hopes of not jostling Ryan's broken ribs and the constant vigilance necessary, they moved slowly.

Though he said nothing, Vin's own body was hurting badly. He had still been stiff and sore from where the hayloft fell on him, and with the fall from his horse, new pain was making itself known, especially in his troublesome back. By the time the town came into view, the tracker was more than grateful. For the past mile, each step his mount took resulted in bolts of pain shooting through his back and nearly stealing his breath and consciousness.

Before long they found themselves in front of the livery and the stairs to Nathan's clinic.

Now was the moment when Vin knew he would finally have to inform Chris of his situation.

"Help me get him down," Larabee said, waiting for Vin to dismount. During the ride, Ryan had developed a slight fever. That, coupled with the fact that each step of the horse seemed to cause the man pain, made Chris even more anxious to get him up to Nathan and make sure they hadn't made things worse.

"Can't," Vin replied softly, his voice soft and filled with pain. Turning his head to meet the hazel eyes of his friend, he continued, "Reckon I should have told you I was hurt before, but it just didn't seem the time. Not sure I can get down off this horse on my own."

Chris cursed softly, but quickly pushed aside his frustration as the door to Nathan's room opened and the healer appeared on the landing. "Need some help, Nathan," Larabee called out softly. "Vin can't get off his horse. Ryan got shot and has a broken rib."

"Can't leave you alone for a minute," Nathan muttered under his breath as he quickly descended the stairs. Glaring at Vin, he assured, "I'll get to you in a minute." He then turned his attention to helping Chris get Ryan Tanner off of his horse.

When that task was accomplished, he and Chris managed to carry the semi-conscious man up the stairs and into the small room.

A few minutes later, Chris came out and secured Vin and Ryan's horses. He then assisted Vin off his horse, wincing at the gasp of pain the younger man released when his feet touched the ground. Once the pain had passed and the younger man was more or less on his feet, Larabee helped the buckskin-clad man up the stairs and into Nathan's small room.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, Nathan instructed, "Put him in the chair. I'll get to him in a few minutes." He then turned his attention once more to his patient.

Vin sat quietly in the chair, doing his best to control the pain of his abused body. He could feel his back muscles seizing and knew something would have to be done soon or he wouldn't be able to move at all. Still, with Nathan and Chris conversing softly about his father's condition, the younger Tanner wasn't about to interrupt. He still wasn't sure how he felt about Ryan Tanner, but he did know he had more questions to ask.

When Nathan asked Chris to help him with the new bandages, Vin knew it was almost his turn to be tended. From past experience, he knew it would be a painful process to loosen his muscles, but he also knew it would be worth it, eventually. He was distracted from his own dread when his father cried out and began to struggle against the hands holding him.

A minute or two later when Nathan and Chris had failed to calm him, Vin dragged himself off the chair and over to the bed. Almost collapsing on it, he ignored his own short, gasping breaths of pain and reached out to rest a hand on the older man. "I'm here, Pa," he said softly, surprised at the words and the fact that Ryan turned to look at him. Unconsciously rubbing his hand up and down his father's arm in a soothing motion, he repeated, "I'm here."

The older man's eyes fluttered as he struggled to remain conscious. The pain-filled eyes cleared momentarily as he whispered, "Son." The word left his lips as consciousness deserted him.

"You need to get back in that chair," Nathan admonished, picking up where he had left off.

"Don't think I can make it that far," Vin replied honestly. That revelation earned him two glares, but he didn't care. Right now he was where he needed to be. The rest could wait.

+ + + + + + +

Eight weeks after he was shot, Ryan Tanner was preparing to leave. He had spent most of the time with his son and the other peacekeepers. Early on he had determined his boy was a remarkable man, as were the other six, and everything he learned seemed to only reinforce that opinion. When the realization that he was jealous of his son's friendships struck him, Ryan had been startled, but, thinking it through, he realized that friendship provided the family his son needed, provided the sense of home and belonging that had been missing for so long.

Regrets washed over him briefly at the thought of what all his boy had suffered by Ryan's not being there, but his life had taught him that the past was done and there was no point in regretting it. The only thing he could do was learn from the past and not make the same mistake in the future.

As he prepared his horse, Ryan heard the others approach. Turning to greet them, he found all seven men standing together.

"Do you really have to leave today?" JD asked, disappointed that this man who he had come to respect was departing.

A smile cured the elder Tanner's lips and the question. "It's time," he replied simply. As he scanned the other faces, he was relieved to see understanding on Vin's. The two of them had spent a lot of time talking about their family and the unique blessing that seemed to keep them always restless and moving. Ryan could still remember the amazed look on his son's face when he had been told about the other members of the family. He realized it must have been shocking to go from having no family to having uncles, aunts and cousins spread throughout the country.

"It's been an honor to make your acquaintance," Ezra said, the first to pick up on the fact father and son needed a moment alone. Offering his hand, he and Tanner shook before the gambler turned to depart.

"Reckon it'd be best if you stayed away from bullets," Nathan advised, a small smile on his face. His grin grew into a smile when Ryan simply laughed and assured him he would try to avoid them in the future. After shaking hands, Jackson also departed.

"Children are a blessing," Josiah said quietly, looking between Vin and his father. "God go with you," he blessed the older man. He was rewarded with a smile and a warm handshake.

"It's been a pleasure," Buck said simply, shaking the man's hand.

"Yeah," JD said in agreement, stepping up to shake Ryan's hand. "It's been great having you here. Just be sure to come back and visit," he invited. Buck took the opportunity to snatch Dunne's hat from his head and the chase was on.

The three remaining men chuckled at the antics as they watched Buck and JD race away. Finally they turned to face each other. Upon Vin's request, Chris had been told some of the family history. Whether or not he fully believed it neither Tanner was sure, but it seemed to ease some of Larabee's suspicions.

Sticking his hand out, Chris waited for Ryan to take it. Locking eyes with the older man, he said simply, "Watch your back."

"Always do," was the reply the other man gave.

With a final nod, Chris turned and left, knowing Vin would come find him when the tracker was ready.

Father and son stood looking at each other for several moments. Reaching out his hand, Ryan rested it on Vin's shoulder. "I'm so proud to call you my son," he said, his eyes bright with emotion. "I'm just sorry..."

"Shh," Vin silenced. They had already discussed their regrets, talked about their wishes and desire, argued and yelled at each other and finally found a relationship that worked. "You just take care of yourself and come back for a visit every now and then," he instructed, fighting back the tears of emotion that threatened to embarrass him.

"Try and keep me away," Ryan replied, his voice roughened by his own unshed tears. Then, drawing Vin into a tight embrace, he closed his eyes when he felt it returned with equal ferocity.

When they released each other from the hug, Ryan simply nodded and mounted his horse. With a final look at his son, he turned and headed toward Texas.

Vin watched his father ride out of town, knowing that he would see the man again and finding himself more at peace than he had been in a long while. Now, he understood what drove him out of town, why settling anywhere had always seemed so unnatural to him. Now, he understood why his mother told him to remember he was a Tanner.

Heading down the boardwalk to where Chris was waiting for him in their customary chairs, his head tilted to the side and a familiar feeling stirred within him. It was time to spend some time out of town.

The End