The Best Medicine by Mel

It wasn't hard to find the O'Brien's cabin. Before they were close enough to see it, Buck and Vin could hear the shouts and laughter of a herd of children having the time of their lives, chasing each other around the yard of the little building. As Buck pulled the wagon to a halt, Mrs. O'Brien came out the open front door of the small home to greet the two men. Even the kids stopped their play; some grouped around the wagon and climbed up the wheels to greet the visitors, each child trying to outdo the other in volume, and some of the kids hid behind Mrs. O'Brien. Over the din, Mrs. O'Brien thanked Buck and Vin for their effort.

"I just can't thank you boys enough." She was a large woman with worn hands and a genuine smile. "I was sure we wouldn't get the new room built before the snow came!" She turned to the cabin and the sound of hammering. "Thomas! The boys are here with the lumber!" She had a big voice too. The hammering stopped. "It's just so sweet of you boys to bring our supplies all the way out here."

"Now don't you say another word, Miz O'Brien." Buck said as they jumped down from the buckboard. "You know it's our pleasure. ‘Sides, we wanted to meet all your new little ones...how you kids doing?" He crouched down and addressed the littlest ones hiding behind their mother's skirt. "Have you ever seen..." With a flourish and a smile Buck produced a chunk of amber from his jacket pocket. "...a frozen bug?" After a moment, they sheepishly approached, and soon Buck was swarmed by armfuls of children. Vin was left alone on his side of the wagon. Mrs. O'Brien directed her attention to him.

"I mean it now, we expect y'all to stay for supper. It's the least we can do -- Bart! Bartholomew, don't be chasing that bird now! He won't come down for you. You know..." She was back to Vin. "If you need anything, anytime, you let me know - Will! Run over there and get Doug before he swallows that pebble - you know, mending, or if you're out this way and need a place to spend - Annie - it's all right honey, Mama will sew that button back on, just hang onto it - the night..." She rattled on, dividing her time easily and efficiently between Vin and Buck and the 11 kids surrounding them.

Mr. O'Brien appeared around the house, wiping sweat off his forehead, with a hammer in one hand and nails still held in his teeth. He shook hands first then took the nails out. "Sure didn't waste no time." He was a tall, spare man, but somehow went together perfectly with his wife. "Sooner I finish, sooner the boys have a bigger place to sleep..."

"The sooner we have peace and quiet at bedtime." Mrs. O'Brien added. "Come on now boys, Will, Ben, Dan, you take the wagon ‘round back. Abby, Martha, you give ‘em a hand unloading." Vin watched as the five bigger kids disappeared with Mr. O'Brien and the wagon around the back of the cabin where the new bedroom was being added on. He felt a familiar annoyance; orphans taken in and put to work. He felt sorry for them.

"It's mighty -" He searched for the word and honestly tried not to sound sarcastic. "-Christian - of you to take them young ‘uns in." He nodded to the children with the wagon.

"Oh - those are the children I got the old-fashioned way." Mrs. O'Brien turned to the group, most of them still wrestling with Buck, six kids aged from 3 to 9. "These are my new little chickens." She knelt down and all but the youngest rushed into her arms. The last little boy stood in front of Buck, all eyes and hand gestures, describing some adventure to Buck in serious words that no one could understand, but Buck nodded and responded as though he could.

"Is that right?" The little boy nodded. He had dark hair and reminded Vin of JD. "And then what did you do?" Buck asked and was answered with more chatter that he didn't understand. "Well, could you show me right where all this happened?" Excitedly, the boy chattered and pointed to the creek off the far side of the cabin. He took Buck's hand to lead him over, still all eyes and hand gestures. Buck walked, keeping an eye on the path, but giving all the rest of his attention to his little guide.

Vin smiled as they wandered out of ear shot then turned back to Mrs. O'Brien. She was making faces and rubbing noses with the kids. Her kids. Vin felt familiar pain, stronger than he remembered feeling it. Stranger's children, recently orphaned by illness, and they were already part of the O'Brien Clan. He tried to keep his mind from his own history. Mrs. O'Brien looked up at him.

"Honey, what is it?" Vin didn't realize at first that she was talking to him. He shook his head, and shook the memories away. She stood up and shooed the children off, either to the creek or to help their Pa at the back of the cabin. Before she could ask anything else, Vin gestured that way.

"Reckon I'll go see if I can give ‘em a hand."

+ + + + + + +

They stayed for supper and helped with the carpentry and before nightfall the roof was on the addition. As they drove the empty wagon back to town Vin was quiet and Buck didn't notice. "Those kids were great. You wouldn't think they'd been together only a few months. They all get along real well. That little guy especially was something. Couldn't understand a word he said, but he sure was determined to say it."

Vin spoke the only words he'd say on this trip back to town. "JD Junior you mean?" and Buck laughed.

"Yeah - he did kinda remind me of the other little guy - ha." And he talked on and Vin ran over in his mind how much he wished Mrs. O'Brien had been around when he was a little guy.

+ + + + + + +

Chris managed to look confused and understanding both at the same time. He knew something was working in Vin's mind, he just didn't know what.

"It'll just be a few days." Vin was saying. "Gotta get some air, y'know? Just want to be out - there..." Out of the town, out in the wilderness. "I won't go far - I'll be easy to find if something comes up. I just -" He had the words, just not the inclination to say them.

"Well, go on then." Chris urged him. "We'll try to take care of ourselves while you're gone..." Vin only nodded and stood up from the table and was gone. Josiah came over from the bar and sat in the vacant chair.

"Now that is a man carrying a burden."

"I know..." Chris drawled the words out. "I hope he's just feeling cooped up."

Part Two

Stars hung over the campsite, almost close enough to touch. Vin sat with his back against a good sized tree, far enough away from the meager campfire not to be visible in its flickering light. He felt a little better being out on his own, away from the town, but not as good as he needed to feel. Something sat behind his eyes, a heavy feeling of - want- was the closest description. The loneliness and fear of his childhood crept up to him in the dark but he shrugged those off. It happened, he survived, it was over. What he couldn't shrug off was the overwhelming sense of unfairness that found him no matter where he was. He'd been a good little kid, he remembered his Ma saying so, telling somebody, some neighbor or friend or somebody.

"He's such a good boy. I've never had a moment's trouble with him...he's an angel..."

So how come he got the life he did?

He scrubbed his eyes with his hands, took a deep breath of chilly air. He willed himself to feel stable despite the images that flashed in his head like shuffling a deck of cards. Nothing to be done about it now. It happened, it was over.

It wasn't fair.

He didn't feel uncomfortable, sitting out here in the darkness. He pitied people, even some of his own friends, who always sought the comfort of a room and a bed when they turned in at night. Beds were for when you were sick, or dying. A man ought to be able to sleep out on the trail every night for a year if he had to, if he wanted to. Vin felt pride in the fact that he could go longer than any of them without seeking shelter indoors, no matter what the weather. He was strong.

He had to be.

No - he pushed that ache away. He chose to be strong. There was a difference. Like he chose to be friends with the others. It wasn't that he needed friends. He could have friends or not. The fact that they watched his back was nice, but he'd survived enough times without it.

He'd had to.

And it wasn't fair.

+ + + + + + +

Morning found Vin gazing at the sky, gauging the storm clouds that were pushing in over the horizon. Wasn't going to be long before the downpour; he'd have to find a more sheltered site to wait it out. He shook out his blanket and noticed that it was so thin, he could see daylight throught it in spots. He'd have to think about getting a new one. He rolled up his bedding and tied it behind his saddle, and off to his right he became aware of someone calling.

He tensed, his concentration focused on picking up the sound, his hand resting lightly on his sidearm. It was a boy's voice, calling in desperation.

"DANIEL! WHERE ARE YOU? ANSWER ME!" Vin moved in that direction and shortly came upon a familiar face. "Will?" One of the O'Brien's "old-fashioned" kids, the oldest, if Vin remembered right. He seemed relieved and grateful to see Vin. "What's going on?"

"Daniel's gone. Don't know where. He was out playing, now can't find him nowhere." The boy was distressed. Vin's face obviously registered that he didn't know which one Daniel was and Will held his hand out low, to approximate the height.

JD Junior.

"We all split up..." Will went on. "I come this way, I took him down to the creek here coupla times, where its real deep, ‘n you can see the crawfish...thought maybe he come this way again." He gestured in the direction he was headed. "Mr. Tanner - you help me find him? You help me find my brother? He's too little to be out on his own. He could get hurt, anything could happen to him. I gotta find him."

"...'course I'll help. Creek's not too far, show me the place..."

More relief flooded the boy's face and they headed off quickly. Soon they could hear the rolling water, and soon after that the wide creek came into view. Sure enough, there in the middle, on a large rock, barefooted, soaked to the knees, crouched down looking intently into the deep pool of water, stood JD Junior. Daniel.

Before Vin could caution the boy at his elbow not to startle the kid, Will yelled "DANIEL!" and the tiny kid flinched, lost his footing, and went down into the pool he'd been lately admiring. A few long strides would've brought Vin to the rescue, but Will ran in ahead of him, grabbed his little brother roughly and hauled him to the shore in his arms.

"What you been told?" Will was chastising him even as he set him on the ground and knelt down to be eye level. Daniel babbled something in his usual way. "So? You know you got to ask me first." Vin was startled to realize that Will actually seemed to understand the strange language. Daniel pouted and said something else. "No, I don't think so mister." And Daniel began to cry, more from fear of being punished than anything else, and Will grabbed him up in his arms and held him tight. His was relief was evident.

"Don't you ever go scaring me like that again Daniel." He held his brother close on his shoulder and shushed his crying. "You're mine to look out for and I don't want you gettin' hurt."

Vin turned and walked away from the little scene. The back of his throat hurt suddenly, his hands were cold, and something must've got into his eyes. "I'll get my horse." He said, by way of explanation. Rain started to spatter around him on the ground. "Take y'all home."

+ + + + + + +

The rain that had been coming down by bushels at least slowed up by the time Vin finally arrived back in town. He stopped his horse at Nathan's and ran up the steps, calling for him even before he got to the door. But the little room was empty and Vin hurried back down to the street to find him.

The rain wasn't stopping and there was a distant rumble of thunder. Vin wished the sun would come out so he'd be warm again. He took off his hat and slapped the water off of it, but that stung his fingers. So he breathed on them again, and tried to rub the blood and feeling back into them as he strode to the saloon. One of the fellas had to be there, they'd know where Nathan was. He was barely through the doors when he heard Chris.

"Vin - what're you doing back already? You weren't gonna to be back for three days..."

"Nice to see you too, Boss." Vin chided him, still rubbing his hands. "You seen Nathan?" By his voice, Chris could tell there was something wrong. He took a mental step back and asked the question that was next anyway but maybe should've been first.

"You okay?"

Vin nodded but couldn't help thinking that if this had been JD and Buck, Buck would've been all over the kid, checking him for bullet holes and broken bones and God knows what all, not taking his word that he was okay. He wondered why that came to his mind.

"Ain't me. The O'Briens. Their little one dropped hisself into the creek. He was lookin' a mite froze, said I'd send Nathan out."

Chris shoved his chair back and was on his feet in a motion. "C'mon - Nathan's down by Josiah."

Part Three

"Bet those folks was real grateful when you brought their young ‘uns back to them." Nathan said. He and Vin were headed to the O'Briens. The rain had finally stopped, but Vin shivered in his coat, and his hands were like ice.

"Parents weren't there. They's all out lookin'. Dropped ‘em both off and came looking for you...'sides, I didn't find him. Just happened to be there when his brother did." It actually bothered Vin to call the two boys "brothers". It wasn't fair. "He was headed that way anyhow." They rode in silence a little farther. Nathan ran over in his mind all the little details he'd check the boy for to be completely sure he was all right. Vin tried to occupy his mind with tracking the marks he saw along the road...that horse is about to throw a shoe...marmot changed his mind here and went back where he came... anything to keep him from hearing Will O'Brien's words

"You're mine to look out for..."

It wasn't fair.

Mrs. O'Brien fairly ran out of the little cabin as Vin and Nathan dismounted, and like salt from a shaker, eight children spilled out of the door behind her. Some led Nathan into the cabin to their little brother Daniel who was being closely guarded in the new bedroom by Will, two of the bigger boys got possession of the horses, the rest stood near their mother as she enfolded Vin in a hug that all but swept him from sight. There were tears in her eyes when she finally stepped back.

"Oh honey - you can't know how much it means you brought our littlest one back...we thought he's gone for sure. Spent the better part of the morning all over creation...we was just all so worried...why honey, you're soaked through...you didn't ride through all that rain just to...why child, get in this house, got a real warm stove goin' and the good Lord didn't bless you with a body that'll keep out the chill like He done me..." By the end, she was leading Vin into the cabin by the sleeve, rattling off instructions to her kids for towels and blankets, put the kettle on to boil, build up the fire, put two more plates on for dinner...

Vin let himself be led into their warm, welcoming home. He couldn't count all the voices that filled the little room and two kids immediately attempted to clamber up into his arms. "...Dan'l almost drowneded...' a little girl was saying as her twin brother attempted to be heard over her "...an'...an'...an'...then all his blood woulda come out..." But Mrs. O'Brien shooed them away and continued to lead Vin to the section of the room that was signified as the kitchen by the cookstove and the rough hewn table surrounded by too many chairs.

"You just set right down here, child. Thank you Abby..." The older girl nearly dropped the pile of towels out of her mother's reach as she stared wide-eyed at the sodden hero who was actually sitting at her table, only three chairs away from her chair. Vin smiled at her and Mrs. O'Brien repeated herself more distinctly. "T h a n k y o u A b b y." Vin watched Abby wander back into the cloud of children, and his eyes fell on a small boy, about five or six, with his back pressed up against the wall, shaking his head rigidly at all attempts to be brought into the group and only stood, rocking slightly, sucking on his fingers.

"Honey, what is it?" Mrs. O'Brien saw that same troubled look that she'd seen on Vin's face the other day. This time, Vin didn't answer her and she followed his gaze. "That's Bart, poor boy. Old enough to remember his folks, young enough to still think they'll come back for him..."

Vin nodded absently and took the towel she offered. Mrs. O'Brien relieved him of his hat and began to tug his jacket off of him. She stopped chatting to him, she could see that he was miles away - no, she could see that he was years away...

+ + + + + + +

the small boy stood defiantly in the middle of the floor
not hiding where he'd be farther away from getting hit
not flinching when the old man raised his fist again
he shouted till his throat was raw
"She is - she is coming back for me! I know she is!"
the next blow knocked him down
and he struggled to his feet again.

Vin came back to the present when Nathan came out of the bedroom. "He's fine, Miz O'Brien. He ain't shiverin' no more, so I don't think it'll turn to anything. He oughtta be up ‘n around - soon as Will decides it's okay." He sat next to Vin after rearranging several of the numerous chairs. Vin broke his gaze from Bart and finally used the towel to dry his hair. He was surprised to find he was no longer wearing his jacket.

"Will watches him like a hawk, he does." Mrs. O'Brien agreed. "I never seen the like - ‘less it'd be Buck and that boy he keeps under his wing...honey...?" She turned back to Vin when she saw he was paying attention. "...you feelin' warmer now? Still shiverin' a mite..." Vin nodded and ducked his head, pretending to dry off the back of his neck, when he saw Nathan looking at him, silently assessing him.

"I'm chilled is all." Vin said, when he raised his eyes to find Nathan still looking, still assessing. Nathan had seen chilled bodies in his lifetime; he'd also seen chilled souls. Something in this cabin was gnawing on Vin, something he needed to get away from.

"Well, Vin. If I can pry you away from this here toastin' stove, I gotta get back to town. I'm sorry Miz O'Brien...." He said when she started to protest. "Your little fella will be all right." He snuck another glance at his friend. "We gotta get back to town."

Part Four

Blue.

That's what they'd called it when they found Mrs. McGinty face down in the old cow pond on the far side of her farm. Said she'd been "a little blue" since her baby boy died one night in his cradle. Said she was never the same after that, and one afternoon her husband found her, dead and floating in the water.

Vin remembered stealing over there to stare at the foul water, imagining what must've brought her to do it. Wishing he had something he cared about so much that he could lose that would make him so blue that he'd look for escape the way she had. Anything that would take him away from this life and bring him to his Ma. But there wasn't anything he cared that much about, and his life went on.

+ + + + + + +

He wondered if how he was feeling now was blue. Since coming back to town from the O'Brien's two days before, he hadn't been much interested in anything going on. Didn't play cards, didn't sit out with any of the other fellas just to pass the time, didn't care who came or left on the stage, just plain didn't care about anything at all. He knew the others were watching him, but to tell them all to back off would take more breath than he seemed to have in his body. Fortunately though, all they were doing was keeping an eye on him, and leaving him in peace.

So he sat now in the saloon, alone. He wasn't drinking, just sitting. Waiting for the day to pass so he could go off and spend another sleepless night somewhere, until it was morning and he had to get up again. The sound of laughter from outside the saloon irritated him, what did anybody have to be happy about? Why didn't they just go away and find somewhere else to be having a good time? Buck and JD came into the saloon. Buck was laughing at some story that JD was dead serious about. Vin silently wished them to the bar so that he could leave without being noticed, but then he couldn't think of anywhere else he wanted to be or had the energy to get to.

As it happened, they saw Vin and were in too good a mood to remember that he'd been prickly lately. Buck ordered beer for all three and they sat at the table with him. "Hey Vin - - how y'doin? Ain't seen you around all day..." Buck said.

"...been around..." Vin's tone was flat. He'd been around, wandering aimlessly till he got tired enough to be able to sit in one spot for awhile. JD remembered first.

"You know, Buck ‘n me can go to another table Vin, if you ain't up to a crowd..." He knew the others would be drifting in soon. Vin looked at him and didn't know what exactly he did want. Stay, go, sit, leave, talk, shut up, something, anything, nothing...please go away but please don't leave me alone...

So he shrugged.

Buck had all he could take of Chris being a bear most of every day and night. Vin was usually a fella you could have a good time with and it was downright awkward to be around him when he was doing as fine an imitation of Larabee as you'd care to see. Still...

When the bartender served them the beer, Buck said: "C'mon JD. Light's better over here, in case we get a card game up..." There was no anger in his voice, only a slightly questioning tone.

...had to be something powerful strong to be dragging Vin down with it. He moved to the other table; JD waited another moment.

"You okay Vin?"

If Vin could've realized that all he wanted was somebody to listen to him sort through his pain out loud, he would've found a way to tell JD that. If JD had realized that what Vin really wanted was just someone to talk to, nothing would've moved him from that chair. But neither of them realized.

"...guess I'm allright..."

And JD went to the other table.

"...guess I'm just feeling a little blue..." Vin whispered to himself.

Part Five

"So there was only enough room for one wagon to go through that alley. And my Ma, she wouldn't back up. And the other lady, she wouldn't back up..." JD was relating this story to Vin on the porch of the jail. Vin was sitting on the step, JD stood in front of him. Vin didn't know exactly why he was listening, but it seemed to matter to the kid to tell it, so he listened. "So the other lady jams her brake on real hard, and y'know what my Ma did? She took out a book and started to read! Ha! Guess who got through that alley!"

"Real tough lady, your Ma." Vin smiled, but it was a tired expression. JD was disappointed, not because Vin didn't seem to appreciate the tale, but that he hadn't been able to cheer him up like he'd intended. He sat down next to Vin.

"What was your Ma like? Seems like she musta been strong too."

Vin had plenty of memories and no strength to summon them. He shook his head. "...too young to remember..."

JD wanted to cheer Vin up. Wanted to do something to bring him out of the misery he seemed to be dragging himself through. The thing that always made JD feel better when he was low was somebody needing his help, so he tried to think of something he could ask Vin's help on. The moments it took him to search his brain though, Vin took as hurt silence.

"Sorry I ain't much company JD. I just ain't been sleepin' much..."

"Nathan'll give you something -" JD would run over there right now and get it for him, all Vin had to do was agree. But Vin shook his head again.

"Naah...can't..." Can't take the chance that he'd be so far asleep somebody could sneak up on him. "It'll go away...always does..."

+ + + + + + +

Across the street, Chris watched the two as they talked. It'd been nearly a week now since Vin had closed in on himself. Any man could have a day or two of melancholy, Chris knew that. Some forgotten sadness would be resurrected and ride the trail with you, but then it would be dealt with and sent back to dark reaches of memory. What Vin was putting himself through now was like the first stages of a recent grief. But, unlike the grief Chris had gone through when his family died, Vin was turning the violence inward. He was destroying himself from the inside.

Oh no.

Chris was about to stand up and go over to Vin when Buck sat down next to him. "How's he today?"

"Even JD can't get a smile out of him." Chris didn't look at Buck, he continued to stare hard at Vin.

"You're real worried about him, ain't you?" Buck asked. "He'll likely pull out of it the next day or two Chris. Whatever's working on him, he's been carrying it awhile I reckon, so I reckon he's pulled himself out of it a time or two already." But Chris shook his head and Buck suddenly realized Chris had a piece of this puzzle that no one else did. "What is it?" He demanded.

Chris chewed his lip, considering if he ought to tell. But maybe the more people who knew, the safer Vin would be. From himself more than likely. Chris turned to look at Buck.

"Vin told me - when we had the service for his Ma - that there's been times when he's missed her so bad, he's thought about joining her. Sending himself to be with her." He didn't know what he expected Buck's reaction to be. Shock, disgust, disbelief. But Buck only shook his head.

"Don't know's I'd blame him. Kinda life he had. Seen his Grandpa the one time he was here in town. Mad dogs ain't as vicious as that cuss was. Don't expect Vin had an easy time under his roof."

"Beat him all the time, Vin said." Chris offered. He knew this time what Buck's reaction would be - anger that a friend had been hurt, even when that hurt was twenty years old. "Right from the first day."

"Damn. Vin ain't a strappin' fella now. Imagine he was a little tyke. How long was he with his Grandpa? Five years?"

Chris shook his head. "Seven."

"Damn."

On unspoken agreement, they both stood up and crossed the street to their friends.

+ + + + + + +

JD had given up thinking of ways to cheer Vin. All it seemed he could do right now was sit with him. He knew, sometimes that's all you could do. Vin just stared down the muddy street, towards the wilderness, toward the unknown, toward anywhere he wasn't right now. He didn't hear the footsteps coming closer, didn't notice Chris and Buck till he felt a strong hand squeeze his shoulder and he looked up, surprised, and saw Chris smiling down at him.

"Hey cowboy, what d'you say I buy you some dinner?"

And Vin found he didn't have the strength to refuse. He nodded, and the four of them headed slowly down the wooden sidewalk.

Part Six

...cold hands

It wasn't fair......could talk to Chris...

headache...cold hands...

...should talk to Chris...

It wasn't fair...

+ + + + + + +

Vin didn't use the room at the boardinghouse much; he kept it because it was part of his wages, but he only spent the night there when the weather was too bad to sleep anywhere else. Even then, he'd mutter to himself that he was getting soft and sleep on the floor. Beds were for being sick. Or dying. You get too comfortable and you stop paying attention. You stop paying attention, you stop living. He'd put a nail in the window frame so that the sash could only be lifted a few inches, enough for some air but not enough for a hand to reach through. And always a chair under the door handle. Nobody was going to surprise him.

He went there now, to the room at the boardinghouse. He put the chair under the door handle, tossed off his hat and jacket, slung his holster over the bedpost, and sat on the floor under the window. He covered his face with his hands. His ice cold hands. His head hurt so bad he thought he was going to be sick, and his hands were so cold it was painful to move his fingers.

It wasn't fair.

+ + + + + + +

Vin wondered if he should talk to Chris. At the cemetery, after his Ma's service, Chris told him, if he ever felt so bad, he was to come talk to him. But what was he supposed to say? "I been feeling dead as mud lately ‘cause the O'Brien's are being nice to orphans..." Yeah, that made a lot of sense...

He tucked his hands under his arms to try and get them warm, but the light made his headache worse so he covered his eyes again. He thought about the bed, but beds were for being sick. Or dying. Well, his head hurt so bad, maybe he was dying. It was sure making him sick anyhow... He pulled himself up and clung to the headboard a moment till he was steady, then using his hands for support, gently lowered himself on top of the covers.

The bed was the most comfortable place he'd slept in a long time. He pulled the pillow over his head to block the light from his eyes; after a little while, he didn't feel quite so sick. A little while after that, he managed to fall asleep.

+ + + + + + +

Inside the church, Chris, Nathan, and Josiah stood discussing their friend and his recent low spirits. "I seen somethin' was wrong when we was at the O'Brien's." Nathan said. "Had a look on his face like I never seen on him. Sad, almost angry though, somehow..."

"The family treatin' those kids right?" Josiah asked. "I think it'd be natural for Vin to get upset over something like that."

"Angry, yeah." Chris said. "But not this. If they were mistreating those kids, Vin'd be all over ‘em."

"Anyway, they treat those kids real good. Wouldn't know they weren't their flesh and blood the way they treat ‘em." Nathan searched his mind for any bit of information that would help. "He's acting like something went and died inside of him. That's harder to treat than a gunshot wound. Harder to survive sometimes too..."

Chris didn't like being in a situation where he couldn't see every angle. "JD said Vin ain't been sleepin'. Said he told him that today..."

Josiah didn't think that could be it. "Vin's been exhausted before...he's been tired, hurt, angry - never took him this low."

"Thought maybe he's thinkin' on his Ma." Nathan said. "But even when we had the service, he was still talking to folks...he ain't hardly said a word in days..."

"Hardly ate anything today either..." Chris agreed.

Josiah wondered if Chris actually didn't see the obvious, or was purposely avoiding it. "Seems like the only path left to us Chris is the direct one - ask him. He's no good to the town the way he is, and he sure ain't doin' himself any favors..."

Chris had been trying to avoid talking to Vin about what was going on - and he didn't know why. He told Vin he could talk to him, and he meant it when he said it. He'd put his arm around Vin and held onto him when he was crying for his Ma at the cemetery. Chris'd been the only one there with a clean handkerchief to offer - even Ezra had come up short on that. All Chris had to do now was say three words: "What's wrong, Vin?" But for some reason, he didn't think he could bring himself to say them.

+ + + + + + +

Footsteps.

Vin sat bolt upright in bed, heart pounding. The pillow fell to the floor but he didn't notice it. His whole concentration was focused on hearing if footsteps were coming down the hall to his room. The chair was at the door, and the door handle wasn't moving - still, it was several moments before he was sure nobody was coming after him. As the anxiety passed, his headache pulsed even more insistently. That was part of the problem of a staying in a boarding house: too many damn people walking around all hours. Needed to be where even one set of footsteps was out of place. That way you'd know if someone was trying to get the drop on you... He laid back and reached out to pull the pillow off the floor and over his eyes.

Damn boarding house. Beds were for being sick. Or dying. He'd never slept in a bed that was better than sleeping under the stars...'cept maybe the one he had when his Ma was still alive. Didn't remember ever having trouble sleeping then. Mornings were bright and happy, his Ma told him that God painted a new sky every morning just for him, and Vin believed her. Back then beds were for being read to at night, and jumping on when you was so happy it just seemed the thing to do. Bed was for learning all the colors in the quilt, and warm kisses goodnight.

But it changed. Towards the end, bed was for listening to her breathe, being terrified when it was too long between each breath. It was the place for being quiet when she couldn't sleep, learning to keep still no matter what. Even so, back then it was still the place where all his dreams had happy endings.

But that changed.

He learned that beds were for sitting up all hours, tracking every corner of your brain to figure out if you'd done everything you were supposed to, wondering if tonight he'd walk past the door and not come in with his belt or his fist to wale the life out of you for any reason, or no reason. Beds were for counting footsteps "- just one more - PLEASE - PLEASE - one more step and he's past my door -" For gritting your teeth and not crying out, learning to keep still, no matter what...

It wasn't fair...

Part Seven

The sun was high when Vin woke up for good the next morning. The room was hot and he was thirsty, so he put on his hat and coat and holster and headed back into the world. He got to the saloon but instead of going inside, set himself in a chair on the porch. His headache was now just dull pressure, and his hands trembled as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"Hey cowboy..." Chris had come out of the saloon and stood in front of Vin, leaning casually on the upright post. It was hard for Vin to look at him; his eyes still stung from the sunlight.

"...hey..." Vin's voice didn't carry much past Chris.

Ezra was coming down the sidewalk and stopped at the corner of the saloon to watch Chris and Vin. It looked like just conversation between the two men, but Ezra was enough of a student of human nature to recognize that Chris was feeling his way around the edges of a painful wound that couldn't be seen, but rather had to be expressed.

"Didn't see you much after dinner yesterday..." Chris saw that the light was bothering Vin, and he moved so that he blocked the sun. Vin was pale and his eyes were dark with exhaustion.

"Slept at the boardinghouse...felt like somebody was laying track across my brain."

"You tell Nathan?" Chris asked. He didn't put much stock in Vin's "slept".

"Naah - easier to just bury my head and wait for it to go away." Vin rubbed his eyes again. "Still workin' on it though."

"I'll get Nathan." Chris was about to move off but Vin stopped him.

"No, Chris - I'm okay. Just thirsty...need some water‘r somethin'."

"I'll get you some." Chris went into the saloon, relieved to have something specific to do. Ezra came forward and took the spot between Vin and the glaring sun.

"Mr. Tanner, you look distinctly unwell."

Vin looked up cautiously, making sure he wouldn't be looking into the sun. "Hey Ez'..." But he made no other answer.

"You know..." Ezra went on anyway. "I have business on the other side of town in a little while. If you are planning to make your way to Mr. Jackson's office, I would be glad of the company." Put that way, Vin did consider it. But he didn't know how much farther his legs would take him right now.

"Think I'll just sit here a spell, Ez'...'preciate it though."

"Well, is there anything I can get for you in my travels?"

"Naah...thanks." Chris came out then with a beer mug of water and gave it to Vin. "Thanks Chris." Ezra watched Chris watch Vin drink most of it down in a few gulps. "Nathan should have a look at you." Chris insisted.

"...just want to sit here a spell..." and he looked too spent for Chris to argue.

"Allright." Though it was clear Chris wasn't happy with it. Ezra chose that moment to make his departure. He touched his hat and started down the sidewalk again.

"Gentlemen, I will see you both later."

As he got past the saloon, Ezra turned back to see Chris taking the chair right next to Vin, both facing out to the street, neither saying another word.

Part Eight

Ezra went directly to Nathan. If Mohammed would not come to the mountain, perhaps the mountain could be sent on a casual stroll to where Mohammed dozed in a weathered captain's chair on the porch of the saloon. The door to Nathan's was open. JD was perched on the edge of the table while Nathan delicately used the edge of a clean bandage to coax a cinder out of the kid's eye. Buck watched over his shoulder, his expression even more intense than Nathan's. When the cinder was pronounced out and Nathan stepped away - "Don't rub that eye, now." - Buck stepped even closer.

"Now what have I told you JD?"

Desperate to rub his red, watering eye, JD expended a little nervous energy on his friend. "You know Buck, back East they got these books, called ‘cyclopedias. Big things. You set ‘em all up together, I bet they take up six feet of good shelf. And they are just plum full of information. Six feet of information. But you know what Buck? Not even that is big enough to hold all you swamp me in. So I can't say exactly which bit of useless information you might be thinking of right now."

Buck hadn't been expecting an aggressive answer, much less such a prolonged one and he paused a moment, formulating his reply. But he saw JD's eyes go past him and a worried look cross his face.

"Ezra - you seen Vin this morning?" JD asked. Buck and Nathan turned to the gambler at the same instant.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I've just left him under the watchful guard of our own dear Mr. Larabee, on the porch of the saloon."

"How's he seem?" Nathan asked.

"Quite thirsty. He also made mention of a headache; although I do believe that his exact expression was: ‘someone laying track' through his brain. He couldn't be persuaded here, I thought you might be persuaded there." Ezra glanced at JD's red, obviously painful eye. "Once this emergency has reached it's conclusion, naturally."

"I'm conclusioned." JD said as he stood up from the table. "Aw Buck..." he complained though when Buck pushed him back.

"You ain't conclusioned till Nathan says you are. You can't be no sharpshooter with only one eye y'know."

"You're okay, JD." Nathan pronounced. "Just don't rub that eye...down at the saloon Ezra?"

"Right on the porch."

+ + + + + + +

Chris figured he should ask Vin what was wrong...Vin was his friend and he was suffering and Chris couldn't say that he was doing everything he could to help him. But like Nathan said, this was worse than a gunshot wound and Chris sure wouldn't go poking around a gunshot wound. What if he did something wrong and made it worse? Just sitting with Vin couldn't be enough, Josiah probably would think it wasn't enough, but it felt right to Chris to sit with Vin, to protect him, let him know that he wasn't alone. So, for now, he just stayed with Vin and that was all.

+ + + + + + +

Vin lifted his head, suddenly aware that he'd been drifting off. He felt vulnerable, sitting there on the porch, so tired he was falling asleep where he sat. Then he heard a sound next to him and looked over to see Chris, still there, turning the page of his book. And Vin felt better - he wasn't alone. He knew he should talk to Chris, figured Chris was probably waiting for him to, but he just didn't have the energy and thank God Chris wasn't pushing him. Just sitting there, just being there. Thank God. Vin closed his eyes and lowered his head again.

+ + + + + + +

Chris realized that Vin had raised his head, but by the time he looked over, he'd put it down again. He was sleeping at least, thank God. That was enough right now.

+ + + + + + +

Nathan approached quietly when he saw that Vin was asleep. "Chris - how's he doing?"

"Sleepin', off ‘n on." They kept their voices low. "Drank two mugs of water."

"Headache?"

"Bad one." Chris nodded.

"Well, I don't want to disturb him, ‘long as he's sleeping. He wakes up, see if you can get some food in him...maybe a real bed for a change..."

"Said he slept at the boardinghouse last night..." Chris told him. Nathan took a closer look at Vin's face under his hat.

"Boardinghouse, maybe. Slept, I don't think so..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too...I'll keep an eye on him Nathan."

"I'll check back later." Nathan said and headed back to his clinic. Chris watched him a few seconds, then looked at Vin. Still seemed asleep, breathing regular. He thought about taking the empty glass out of Vin's hands, but didn't want to risk waking him. Chris decided to give Vin another few chapters of his book, then wake him up to get something to eat before steering him back to a real bed.

Satisfied that he had a workable plan, Chris turned his book over and began to read again.

Part Nine

Chris was a man with a plan - and he hated it when his plans fell through. "Shoulda got Vin off this damn porch two chapters ago..." he cursed himself as he looked down the street to a baker's dozen of trouble heading right for them: The O'Brien Clan was headed their way.

"Vin..." Chris shook him none too gently and pulled the empty mug out of his hands. "Come on, let's get you inside." But it was too late. Vin's head came up just as the twins hurled themselves at him. The girl, Mehitabel, made it first and was in Vin's lap in a second.

"You - you - know - we got TWO Dan'ls?" She had just discovered this on the way to town. She spoke as if she'd seen Vin minutes ago, not days. "We - we - we- got - we got BIG Dan..." She gestured dangerously. "And - and - we got - we got - Little Dan'l. Little Dan'l - he fell into the water. He fell into a REALLY BIG river...and - and - Abby said you saved him -"

Vin was coming awake slowly, he could hardly focus his eyes on the girl, and all he could think about was some way of getting her off of him without being rude. Then the problem was taken care of by the chatterbox herself - gesturing the way she'd seen her big sister do, ‘Bel sighed: "And Abby says you got the BLUEST eyes she's EVER seen..." And she was whisked out of earshot so fast by Abby that even Chris was startled. A little voice, and a little hand tugging on his sleeve, got Vin's attention at the side of the chair, and the little boy Zeke whispered conspiratorially "An' all his blood woulda come out..." And he nodded as though that was the most profound thought in the world.

Mrs. O'Brien reached them next. "Sorry if my chickens bothered you boys..." She reached for Zeke's hand as she smiled down at Chris and Vin, checked her pocket for a pin for a wayward pinafore, swept the street with her eyes to find Abby and ‘Bel, and took quick count of the rest. "Needed a few things and most of the little ‘uns ain't been in town yet...you feelin' better honey?" Vin nodded.

"...tired's all..." He searched the crowd of children, looking for Bart. The boy was at the back of the line, walking, stopping, scuffing, pouting, catching up, slapping away all attempts to be touched by the other kids. Mr. O'Brien brought up the end of the train, keeping pace with Bart's stop and go progress.

Vin was tired, his head hurt, he hadn't eaten anything since the little he'd been able to swallow at dinner yesterday noon and that tickle was scratching the back of his throat again. Memories flooded him and he didn't have the strength to fend them off. Walking with his Ma, she'd stop every time he did, pick flowers, watch bugs, hug him and ‘race' him to the next tree.

But that changed.

Abby set ‘Bel down and, anxious to be away from Vin and her embarassment, tried to hurry Bart along. He swung out at her and instead hit ‘Bel on the shoulder and knocked her down. She sat up and and opened her mouth in a long, silent scream til she took a breath and split the town with her outrage. Vin tensed in his chair, waiting for - expecting, dreading - the blow that would send Bart down into the mud next to his howling sister.

Bart clenched his fists, squeezed his eyes shut, and cried too, in frustration and grief and sympathy with his sister. Mr. O'Brien grabbed him from behind - and turned him to cradle against his shoulder. They were too far away to hear Mr. O'Brien's voice over all his other children, but they could tell that he was comforting Bart, as Mrs. O'Brien swooped onto ‘Bel to similarly quiet her.

Expecting brutality, Vin was overwhelmed by the tenderness he witnessed. He pushed his body out of the chair and with no explanation fled the porch, heading he didn't know where, just away. He had to get away from there.

Chris briefly excused himself to anyone who could hear him and followed after Vin. He had no trouble catching up - Vin didn't seem all that steady on his feet and he wasn't making any time. Still, when Chris reached out to stop him, Vin whirled on him and put his arm up to block the touch. "Leave me be Chris. I gotta..." But his voice trailed off.

"Gotta what?" Chris asked, gently. Vin didn't answer. Tears flickered in his eyes and he looked down. Chris couldn't help wondering if Vin was thinking of his Ma. Maybe thinking of joining her. "Gotta what Vin?"

"...w-w-walk." The word came out awkwardly. "Gotta just walk."

"Allright - I'll come with you."

"NO." That came out strong enough. "Leave me be." He shrugged off Chris' hand and hurried off. Chris watched Vin till he was far enough away to follow without setting him off again.

Part Ten

Josiah was on the floor, under a pew, attempting to retrieve his hammer when he heard someone stomp up the front steps and slam the front door open and closed. "It ain't fair!" He heard Vin's voice, then came the distinct sound of a far pew being kicked.

Quietly, not wanting to startle Vin, Josiah came out from under the pew. Vin was just inside the door, head down, hands clenched. Trying so hard to maintain his emotional balance he was shaking.

"What ain't fair son?"

Vin looked up, froze, wanted to run. But it came out anyway. "I was a good kid." Tears ran down his face.

Josiah got to his feet, as he silently thanked God that Vin had come to him, and prayed for the right words to help him. "Yes, you were." Vin was a good man, he was probably a good kid too.

"Then how come I got the life I did? How come those kids -" Vin pointed in the direction he'd left the O'Brien's. "What right have they got? Orphans. Ain't no kin to nobody - how come they got a family that cares about ‘em and ain't never mean to ‘em? I was a good kid...she said I was..." Behind him the front door had swung open again.

"Your Ma said..." It wasn't a question.

"She said I was." Vin said it as though someone was disputing it. "I remember her saying it..." He looked at Josiah to confirm it. He wanted somebody else to believe him. "I was a good kid..."

Josiah took one or two steps toward Vin, watching his reaction to see if he might be about to bolt. He held his hand out. "Why don't you come here and sit down Vin? You're carrying an awful burden...maybe we can sort it out..." Vin considered it. He dried his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Maybe..."

+ + + + + + +

Outside on the steps, Chris heard the conversation. He told himself he was relieved that Vin had found someone he would talk to, and he turned back to retrieve the book he'd left on the saloon porch. He found Buck and JD there, with the book and the mug, trying to figure out where the pair might have gone. The O'Brien's were nowhere around.

"Chris - where's Vin?" Buck asked. "When Nathan came back, he said Vin was sleepin' here..."

"Is he allright?" JD asked.

"He's down with Josiah, I think maybe Josiah found a way to get him to talk."

"Is it his Ma?" Buck asked, obviously with the same thought Chris'd had just a few moments before...'he set on joining her?'

"No, I don't think so..." Chris took the book from Buck and was intending to head back to Josiah's and wait nearby. He didn't want to tell Buck and JD that Vin sounded angry that the O'Brien's took in the orphans. That made Vin seem cruel. But they wanted to know.

"Then what is it?" Buck kept on.

"When he was a kid, I guess. Sayin' it ain't fair the life he got."

"Sure." JD saw the connection immediately. "Seeing all those kids with the O'Brien's, that's gotta make think on his own life. I'd be feeling mighty cross myself right now if I'da had his growin' up..."

"Yeah, but that's over now." Buck said. "Maybe he didn't have no decent family growin' up, but hell, we're his family now. He sees that, don't he?" Both Chris and JD knew that Buck loved greatly and easily, fought hard, forgave fast, and would hold onto a friendship even through years of separation and a mountain of cross words.

"He might see it Buck..." Chris said. "Don't mean he understands it."

"Even if he does understand it..." JD offered. "If all I knew about family was gettin' hit and yelled at and being miserable all the time, I wouldn't want to be part of anybody else's family. Reckon I'd be afraid of it." The two older man stared at JD, surprised that he seemed to have hit on it exactly.

"You know somethin' boy..." Buck pointed at him. "Sometimes you are just too smart for your own damn good..."

+ + + + + + +

Josiah gave Vin a glass of water, then leaned against the pew across the aisle from him, arms folded, watching. Like before, Vin drank this water down in a few swallows. "Thanks..throat's been kinda scratchy..." as though that might be the only reason he was thirsty. Now that he was calm, and had regained his composure, Vin was sorry he'd said anything to Josiah. He set the glass on the pew next to himself. "Should be goin'..." Josiah crossed the aisle in a stride, his firm hand kept Vin in his seat.

"You hold on there son...I'm figurin' there's words in you need speakin' and I aim to hear every last one of ‘em...."

Vin turned his head a little to the open door. He was sure Chris was following him, where was he now? Vin almost laughed at himself. First you tell him to leave you be, then you get mad ‘cause he does. Make up your mind.

"Vin?" and Vin looked up at him.

"Gotta go, Josiah. Words I got ‘a been sittin' there quite a spell. Reckon they'll keep...thanks for the water...sorry...sorry I bothered you." And he stood up and almost frantically pushed past the preacher, heading for the door and away. Anywhere, just away.

"Vin." The tone alone made him stop and look back. Josiah walked up to him and would've put a hand on his shoulder, but Vin pulled away and Josiah put his hand down. "You need me - you find me. Anytime, anywhere. Allright?"

"Yeah..." and he was out the door. Josiah watched him slouch down the boardwalk, still carrying that burden.

"Good Lord don't like a liar, son." He said to Vin's back.

Part Eleven

Vin saw Chris, Buck and JD talking in front of the saloon, and he turned down an alley before they saw him. He made his way around the back of the buildings toward the livery. His hands were still cold and he wanted to get his gloves, and maybe he had something in his saddle bags that would ease the scratch in his throat. He was almost to a spot just across the street from the stable and he made his way through another alley.

"Hey Vin!" he heard JD call him, just as he cleared the boardwalk. He cursed under his breath. Today, right now, nothing was going to set well with him.

"What?" Vin demanded as JD walked up to him.

"Thought you were at Josiah's?" JD wasn't put off by Vin's tone. But when Vin didn't answer the question, he changed tack. "You eat yet? Get's real crowded at the boardinghouse this time of day...I got some food ‘n stuff in the office..." he pointed a couple of doors down to the Sheriff's office. "I thought, I was hopin' maybe you'd join me..." Vin's agitation cooled a bit; he knew JD was only trying to help him feel better.

"Naah, thanks. Gotta check my gear." He nodded toward the livery.

"Well, that ain't gonna take long..." JD pressed.

"I just got things I need to do - don't know how long it'll take...'preciate the offer JD. I just - - got things I need to do." Vin's prickliness was rising again. JD should just take the hint and back off.

"But -" But Vin had had enough.

"JD - will you just leave me be?" Even as he took his frustrations out on the kid, Vin knew JD didn't deserve it. "I said I ain't got time. Sometimes a man just ‘druther be by hisself. You'd know that, you ever cut them damn apron strings." He gestured down the street to Buck, who was near enough to hear Vin's raised voice, and started toward them. "Y'know not everybody's got some damn mother hen lookin' out for ‘em all the time. Some people's just gotta get by on their own..."

Buck got there just after Vin stormed off to the livery. "What the hell was that all about?" He demanded of JD. "What was he yellin' at you for?" JD stared after Vin. Many things came together in his mind as he sorted out the day's events.

"Don't matter Buck. C'mon, got some food at the office. C'mon ‘n join me." He started to walk that way, but Buck held him back.

"What d'you mean, it don't matter. What call does he got to be yellin' at you like that? Just ‘cause he ain't been chipper lately don't give him leave to be takin' it out on other folk."

It was so clear to JD, he couldn't believe that Buck didn't see it. "He's jealous Buck. Vin's jealous of me having you to look out for me. C'mon, let's go eat." JD started down the boardwalk and Buck followed. "I mean, think about it Buck. Vin ain't all that older ‘n me. But ever since he was a kid, ever since he was Billy's age, he's been on his own. You're the one told me about his Grandpa and how he hurt him... imagine bein' five or ten - hell Buck, imagine bein' as old as Vin is right now and no matter how sick or hurt or scared y'are, havin' nobody to turn to, nobody to depend on. Seein' other folk's got what you want but ain't never had. It's hard. Trust me, I know." They went into the jail and sat at the desk to eat.

"Still don't give him no call to be takin' it out on you." Buck persisted. But everything seemed perfectly clear to JD.

"Buck, you ever see Vin without his hat and coat on?"

"No..." Wondering where this was going.

"Y'ever been in his room at the boardinghouse? He got anything personal in there? Pictures, books, clothes even?"

"No..."

"You know, he's at the livery stable right now, checking his gear in his saddlebags. Makin' sure everything's ready just in case. When he gets his clothes back from the laundress, he puts ‘em right in his saddlebags. Don't keep ‘em in his room. Don't you see Buck? Vin ain't never ready to not move on. He could get on his horse right now and ride away, and not leave one thing behind. Except now, he's seen the O'Brien's and their kids and maybe he realizes finally that we are his family and he can rely on us. Only he's been so spooked by what's happened to him before that he's trying to push us away before we can push him away...y' see what I mean? He wants so bad to have somebody fuss over him only he can't let anybody know how bad he wants it."

"He's got Chris..." Buck tried but knew the argument even before JD gave him a look. "All right, Chris ain't the most cuddly fella in the territory, but he does take quite a bit of care of Vin, whether Vin wants him to - or even knows he'd doing it."

"Yeah, but not little things Buck. Sure he's there for gunshot wounds and bounty hunters, but think about it. Vin don't like going to Nathan even when he's hurt real bad. So he's got nobody he tells about blisters and splinters, and maybe he hasn't been sleeping ‘cause it's cold and he doesn't have enough blankets - who's he gonna tell that to? You see him telling Chris that?"

But Buck was in no way convinced. "Hell, Vin don't want that kind of fussin' - nobody does."

JD sighed and went to tack a wanted poster up on the wall. After a couple of swipes with the hammer, it dropped and he gave a yelp of pain as he shook his hand out. Buck was at his side in an instant. "Let me see - what'd you do this time - I told you -" He grabbed the kid's hand and turned it over several times looking for the damage before he realized he was being snookered.

"Damn it JD -" He looked honestly angry and jabbed his finger at JD's chest. "Sometimes you are too damn smart for my own good!" Then he gave him a friendly shove and turned to make his way to the livery stable.

+ + + + + + +

After Buck and JD left him, Chris walked to the church. He'd intended to stay outside, within sight of the door, but he heard hammering and went in. Josiah was by himself, nailing in a new window frame. "Vin ain't here?" Chris asked, even though it was mighty obvious.

"Nope, he was here. Thought I might get him to talk to me, he started to. But once he had the chance to get his wits together, he closed right up on himself again."

"Did you see which way he headed?"

"Towards the saloon, towards the other end of town."

Chris shook his head. "I just came that way, I didn't see him."

"Well, when that man don't want to get found, he don't get found." Josiah hammered a few more times on the window frame, then paused. "He's carrying around an old, deep pain Chris. I thought talkin' would be the way to bring it out of him, but I ain't so sure now. It's almost like an infection or a fever and the only thing you can do is watch him and wait for it to work itself out."

"How do you watch a man who don't want to be found?" Chris asked. He didn't expect there was an answer.

"I recommend you watch him very closely."

+ + + + + + +

Buck looked through the open door of the livery stable. Sure enough, there was Vin, going through his saddlebags. Looking every bit like he was getting ready for a journey. Buck had something in mind he thought sounded good, and he went in to Vin.

Vin wasn't surprised that Buck had followed him, just that it'd taken him so long. He expected Buck to tear into him for tearing into JD, he prepared himself for a powerful loud lecture on the entire subject of how to treat JD, with a few side trips into Vin's own behavior this past week. And Vin knew that he wouldn't be able to stand it. He wouldn't be able to stand one more person speaking up for somebody they weren't even kin to. He knew he shouldn't have yelled at JD - he didn't want to spend the next fifteen minutes being told that exact thing.

So, he was even more surprised when Buck stopped a few feet from him and spoke very calmly, even friendly. "Hey Vin...JD and me is going fishing, spend a couple nights out in the woods. Y'know, get the dust blown off us. I'm wonderin' if you'd come with. It's gonna be a heap of fun." If he'd said that Ezra had just sworn off gambling for good, Buck didn't think he could get a more disbelieving look than the one Vin turned on him. And it hit Buck for the very first time - Vin couldn't hardly be any older than JD. Not more'n a few years.

"You want me to go with?" Vin had to make sure he'd heard right. He'd just been mean to JD, and here was Buck, asking him to go along fishing and camping out a coupla nights. If Vin thought it was a strange day before, it just got stranger. "Naah, I think I'll stay around town..." He turned back to his saddlebags.

"You're sure?" Buck asked, and Vin nodded. "Allright, you don't know what you're missin'..." Buck turned to walk out again, trying to think of some other way to help Vin, and Vin watched him start to leave, feeling there was a chance here that he was throwing away with both hands.

"You really want me to go with?" and Buck turned, a genuinely pleased smile on his face.

"Hell yeah. Won't be no fun without you."

"Well..." Vin didn't know if it would be polite to invite someone himself. "...Chris?"

And Buck's smile grew. "You want to ask him or should I?"

+ + + + + + +

Chris walked out of the saloon. He was looking for Vin and he'd find him if he had to search every building in town. But there he was, leaning against the same upright post Chris had leaned against early this morning. Vin looked sheepish, but managed to briefly meet Chris' eyes. "Hey cowboy...buy you some dinner?"

Part Twelve

Vin didn't feel the six pairs of eyes on him as he saddled his horse, and he wouldn't have cared if he did. He felt better than he had in over a week. He told himself he shoulda just gone back out on his own when he was feeling blue, that's all he probably needed anyway. Just feeling cooped up was all. He felt foolish for not recognizing it before and tried to keep his enthusiasm hidden now, but he was anxious to be on his way.

Nathan, Josiah and Ezra saw the four men off. Vin was still pale and exhausted, but had a little of his old spark in him when he smiled goodbye to his friends and touched his hat as he rode off. Still, the three friends standing on the boardwalk saw something else.

"He don't look just right." Nathan said.

"Something's brewing inside of him." Josiah agreed.

Ezra realized they were each talking about a different concern, one physical, one spiritual. He knew they were both right, but he said "I do believe this little excursion will do more for Vin's state of mind and state of health than all the ditch water and conversation we have at our disposal..."

Still, they all watched till the four men rode out of their sight.

+ + + + + + +

"This is near where Daniel fell in." Vin said as they stopped alongside the stream. There wasn't much energy to his voice, but at least he was talking.

"You walk on the water to rescue him, like Miss Abby says?" Buck teased and Vin managed to smile, his second that day. His second that week.

"Naah, Will got him. I'm camped over nearby though, it's a good spot, if y'all want to stop there."

They got to the site and started to make camp, dismounting and taking the saddles off their horses. Buck had his saddle in his arms and was turning to set it down when he saw Vin flinch and grip his hand. The thought briefly crossed Buck's mind as he set his saddle near the campfire - must've caught his hand on the cinch... Then as he straightened, he saw JD looking up and listening solemnly to something Chris was telling him, and it hit Buck, and he went to Vin.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Vin shook his hand out and pulled his gloves off.

"Let me see." Buck took his hand without waiting permission. A wide red scrape went up the side. Vin was going to pull away, but for the first time in over a week, he felt warmth in his hand. "It ain't bad." Buck said. "Didn't break the skin. But Lord Vin, your hands are cold." He proceeded to rub Vin's hands between his own. Now Vin pulled back.

"It's okay."

"Pipe down kid and let me do this." Buck took his hands again and chafed them red, but still not warm. The day and the air around them was warm, how could Vin be so cold? "Damn, how long they been this way?"

"Few days, since the O'Brien's - and I ain't no kid." Vin said, for not the first time in his life

Buck looked up, mocking annoyance. "As long as you're younger than me, you're a kid...here, put my gloves on while I get your saddle." He pulled thick, warm gloves out of his pocket and deposited them in Vin's cold hands.

"I can do it." Vin insisted.

"Not with them hands you can't. You do what I tell you now, put them shearling gloves on, and if you're real good, I'll tell you some ghost stories around the campfire tonight. How ‘bout that?" He smiled at Vin - this was fun, seeing Vin for his age and his size, instead of his experience. But Vin stared back at him, completely baffled.

"What the hell you talking about Buck?" Buck heaved a sigh. "Just put the gloves on and I'll get your saddle off, okay? Your hands are too cold, you'll really hurt yourself if you try again."

A moment's hesitation, then the too-big gloves went on the too-cold hands. "Thanks Buck."

+ + + + + + +

When the horses were unsaddled, JD led them down to the stream to drink. Vin followed after him and hunkered down next to him on the shoreline. "I'm sorry JD, barkin' at you like that before...I didn't mean it..." But he had meant it. "...anyway, I don't mean it now."

"It's okay Vin. I know you got a lot on your mind lately...your hands cold?" JD nodded at Buck's gloves.

"Yeah, it happens sometimes. The gloves help...I am sorry JD. You never done anything to me and I had no right - - what I said - -" It hurt, remembering what he'd said to JD, but what stung worse was the reason behind him saying it. Sometimes he just got fed up with Buck fretting over JD all the time.

+ + + + + + +

"I don't feel good." The little boy with the scratchy throat and the cold hands said.

"So?" His grandmother snapped at him. It wasn't fair.

+ + + + + + +

"Vin?" JD's voice brought him back.

"What?"

"Said I'll help you with your bedroll if your hands are too cold...those gloves don't look like they'll be much help to you doing that."

"Naah, thanks JD." Vin said automatically. "I can do it."

+ + + + + + +

"Vin - I hate to be the one to say this -" Buck looked on as Vin rolled out his bedding. "That ain't no blanket son, that there's a sieve." Vin shook his head.

"It keeps me warm, that's all I need."

Chris watched the two of them. He'd never seen Buck hover over anybody but JD. He wondered what was going on, but he decided to watch a little while longer. Vin seemed happier than he had in a week and Chris didn't want to risk shattering that.

+ + + + + + +

Later that afternoon, Vin went to sleep with his hands tucked inside his shirt against his skin to keep them warm. He woke up once in the middle of the night and turned to find a more comfortable position. He felt more than just his blanket over him - by the moonlight and fading campfire light, he saw that Buck's coat was thrown over him over the blanket. Still baffled, but not as cold as he was, Vin laughed quietly and went back to sleep.

Part Thirteen

Buck checked his pocket watch. "He's been asleep near 12 hours...that's a blessing at least."

"Yep." Chris took a long sip of his coffee. They sat across the low fire from where Vin still slept, under four blankets and one coat. JD was off gathering more wood for the fire.

"Reckon we should wake him up and feed him?"

"Better we let him sleep I think...let him wake up on his own."

"Yeah..." A few minutes passed. They drank their coffee and tried to keep quiet so they wouldn't disturb Vin. Finally, Buck asked "What d'you think is goin' on with him? You think it's like JD says - he's afraid of lettin' himself feel part of us?"

"Hard to say, Buck. Vin don't let on much."

"Ha, like somebody else I know..." Buck laughed quietly, and Chris shot him a look. But he knew Buck was right.

"Just a lotta pain in the world to go around." Chris considered his sleeping friend. "Some folks get a bigger share."

+ + + + + + +

Vin didn't know how long he'd been awake when he became aware of voices near him. He tracked his brain, trying to remember where he was and why, and what might be going on. Fishing, he remembered that. They were out at his campsite to go fishing. He remembered eating supper the night before, then falling asleep while it was still daylight. It was daylight now, he wondered how long he'd been sleeping. He wondered if he even wanted to wake up, he was so warm and comfortable where he was.

"I'll keep an eye on him." Vin heard JD say. Chris and Buck must be going somewhere.

"Let him sleep." Chris said. It sounded like a warning.

"I know." When the footsteps through the underbrush finally faded away, JD muttered to himself: "Think I don't know? ‘Let him sleep'." He mimicked Chris. He jumped when Vin turned over.

"Y'sound just like him." His voice was raspy and his throat till scratched.

"Vin -" JD was embarrassed to be overheard mocking Chris. "Didn't mean to wake you..."

"Naah. I'm awake already." Vin pushed himself up to sitting. He was surprised at all the coverings over him. "Didn't none of y'ever hear of taking care of your own bedroll?" He pushed the blankets back - Buck had taken his coat with - and pulled his knees up to rest his arms on. "JD, got any water? I'm kinda thirsty."

"Sure." the kid brought over his own canteen. "I'll getcha something to eat too."

"Thanks." Vin drank most of the water, and felt bad for doing it. He didn't know why he was so thirsty. "What time is it, about?"

"...after seven I reckon...you slept a good long while...y'feeling any better?"

"Yeah." No. "Where'd they go?"

"Fishin'..." JD handed him the food. Vin sure didn't look like he felt any better.

"Fishin'? Together?" Vin shook his head. "Y'just might want to keep an ear open for gunfire there, JD. Ain't known those two to spend more'n three minutes together without comin' close to a dust up." <,br> Chris and Buck weren't fishing, though they had the poles with them. For awhile they just sat, watching the stream whirl and flow past them.

"I miss this." Buck said. "Just sittin' out. The two of us. Nothing much goin' on. Fishin' or not. Just spending time." He wasn't sure what Chris' reaction would be. "I've missed it."

Chris chewed his lip and nodded. "I have too." he said simply.

Behind them they heard JD and Vin approaching. "Hey, you fellas ain't fishin'?" JD asked.

"Well, y'know kid, y'just can't jump into something like this." Buck took great pains to describe. "Fishin' is truly a delicate matter. The fish know we're out here and if we go after ‘em straight away, why they'll just plum know what we're up to and..." his voice trailed off as JD rolled his eyes and walked downstream away from him. "How're you doin' kid?" He asked Vin.

"Fine." Vin told him, but he had an uneasy look on his face. "Think I'll go down, see what JD's doin'." He knew he didn't look all that well, and he was afraid Buck would push for more answers.

"Keep him outta trouble." Chris said and smiled. His remark made Vin feel a little less flustered.

"Hell, y'know it takes all six of us to do that Chris..." Then he wandered down the shoreline to where JD sat on a large rock, taking off his boots. "What're you doing JD?"

"Goin' in looking for fossils. They ain't fishin' so we don't gotta worry about scarin' the fish...c'mon and help me."

"Naah, I'll stay here JD. Gettin' soaked all over ain't my idea of fun first thing in the morning."

"Oh - c'mon Vin. It'll be fun."

And there was that feeling again, cutting through Vin. The feeling that here was a chance he might be about to throw away. "Okay."

+ + + + + + +

Buck was just telling another story of feminine conquest to Chris who was just as determinedly saying he didn't need to hear it, when Buck stopped talking and stared down the creek like he was having a vision.

"What is it?" Chris turned to look that way, wondering what demon must be bearing down on them. Then he saw it too, not twenty yards away, and was just as dumbfounded. Vin and JD, both barefoot, hats and coats tossed on the shore, pants legs rolled up, were wading into the stream. JD pulled a large chunk of rock out of the water and showed something on it to Vin. Talking about fossils and some museum back East.

JD turned, lost his footing, and went down. Vin moved to catch him and went down with him. The water was deep enough to go under and Chris and Buck were both on their feet in a motion, but Vin and JD reappeared and helped each other to their feet, both laughing. Chris and Buck sat down again, shaking their heads at their friends. They watched them for awhile. JD was actually getting Vin to loosen up and have fun, splashing and laughing in the creek. Even Chris seemed more relaxed as he put his worry about Vin aside.

"Do we go back to town now and look for the real Vin, or do we give this one a chance?" He asked Buck, motioning to the ‘kids', both completely dripping wet, but laughing. "I don't know what you're doing -"

"Ain't me." Buck admitted quickly. "Not really. It was JD telling me something about - he thought Vin maybe could use a friend he could get silly with -" He looked back out to the creek where Vin had JD by the belt loops and was attempting to put pebbles down his shirt. "- and a friend who'd take care of him even when he pushed ‘em away. Said I should remember that Vin ain't much older'n him and I should try to treat him the way I treat JD. So, that's what I been doing. It felt strange at first, but now it's actually kinda fun, see all the faces Vin makes, trying to figure out just what I'm up to."

They watched the ‘kids' a while longer. Chris said. "You remember being that age Buck?"

Buck almost choked. "Hell Chris. I ain't never gonna be as old as Vin, and you ain't never been as young as JD..." >

Part Fourteen

The day went so well, even Vin forget how bad he'd been feeling before. That day seemed so long ago. His throat hurt now, but even that didn't matter. When they got back to town tomorrow, he'd ask Nathan for something to make it better. Today he felt good and he was having fun. When he and JD were done exploring every rock in the stream and on the bank, they changed into dry clothes and hunted up more fire wood. Chris and Buck could hear them far off, both laughing about something foolish.

As the day wore on, Buck and JD decided to finally go fishing. Vin said he was tired, and he'd stay at the campsite. Chris said he was going to stay there too, get some reading done. Vin sat cross-legged at the base of the tree, near the campfire, and was asleep in a few minutes. Chris shook his head. He'd never known anybody who could sleep so fast and so sound sitting upright. He told himself to remember: if Vin gets downhearted again, take him fishing.

+ + + + + + +

The boy sat quietly in the knot of the other boys playing in and around the sluggish creek. He didn't go into the water, he didn't want to get his clothes wet or dirty, he didn't want anybody to know what he'd been up to. He felt proud that he'd been allowed into this group of boys, and he stayed still, afraid to do anything that might get him thrown out again. He was almost happy sitting there, he almost felt like maybe he belonged - and because of that, he almost didn't hear his grandfather's angry footsteps behind him.

He ducked, but not enough, and the kick knocked him into the stump of a tree he was sitting near, and the clothes he'd tried so hard to keep clean and dry were mottled with the blood that ran out of his mouth. Then the hands reached for him and yanked him up by his collar and his hair.

"What th'hell you think you're doin', y'little shit? I say you could come out here? No good little shit. Get yer hide back to that barn and finish them chores ‘fore I tan the hide right offa ya."

And as the boy turned to run for his life back to the barn, he saw in the eyes of the leader of the little knot of boys that he'd never be allowed back. Not looking where he was going, he fell and couldn't get to his feet fast enough.

"What th'hell you lookin' at? Stinkin' little shit. Keep movin'."

He felt the kick coming, and his pleas were as much to not get hurt again, as to not spoil the only chance he had of belonging somewhere...

"Grandpa - please - don't!"

Vin came awake with a gasp for air, disoriented, trying to judge where the attack was coming from. But there was nothing, no one near him except Chris, across the fire from him. Chris tried to not let his consternation show on his face; he didn't want to make it any harder for Vin. "You okay?" As though Vin had simply coughed.

"Yeah." No. His eyes swept the landscape, making sure he was safe, and Chris saw it - all the ease and happiness Vin'd had today was swept away, destroyed by one bad dream. He was gone back inside himself, back into that misery. He tucked his hands under his arms again, the first time he'd done that all day.

"Hands cold?" Chris asked. "Buck left his gloves in case." Vin didn't answer and Chris picked up the gloves and brought them to his friend. When he hunkered down to offer them, Vin turned away as though he was afraid.

"Won't help." He said.

Chris considered what he could do, what he wanted to do. Like an infection, Josiah said. Sometimes, if it was close enough to the surface, you could draw an infection out. "Bad dream?" He asked, but Vin didn't answer. Chris took a deep breath - and a chance. "He can't hurt you no more Vin." His voice was reassuring, not accusing.

"I know - ‘cause he dead." Vin still kept turned away.

"Alive or dead Vin, he can't hurt you ‘cause we wouldn't let him."

Vin let this sink in a moment. He wasn't convinced. "Nobody ever stopped him."

"Alive or dead Vin -" Chris put his hand on Vin's shoulder, but Vin didn't turn back. " - he don't get through me. I promise." When Vin didn't respond, Chris set the gloves next to him and went back to the fire. Only when he was sure Chris was turned away did Vin venture a glance at him. ‘Honest?' he needed to ask, but Chris turned back and Vin ducked his head.

"Here, this'll keep your hands warm."

Vin looked up only enough to see that Chris was offering him a cup of coffee. "Thanks." He took a sip and it burned his throat. He made a face of pain.

"Don't taste that bad." Chris said, as he sat at the tree near him. Vin shook his head.

"...throat hurts..."

"Bad? You want to go back to town?" Vin considered it: go back to town and lay down in his empty room and be alone and in pain. Or stay here with Chris who promised to protect him from the living and the dead. "Ain't that bad. It'll keep till we go back tomorrow."

"Well, you let me know if it gets worse."

"Yeah."

They sat there at the tree, at right angles to each other. Vin just didn't want to be alone, and Chris just wanted something to talk about that didn't involve nightmares and bad memories. Nothing came.

"Y'keep ‘em away from me?" Vin said suddenly. "Buck and JD I mean? I know Buck's been havin' fun takin' care a' me, and JD just about turned hisself inside out to make me feel better...I ain't tryin' to be mean...I just couldn't take that now..."

"You want to go back to town?" Chris tried again. "Have Nathan take a look at you? Y'don't want to be foolin' with a sore throat..."

Vin tried a few times to say something he didn't want to say, but needed to say. "I don't want t'be alone." He was ashamed enough to be having bad dreams in front anybody else, much less Chris, he hated to admit that they frightened him. "I don't sleep..."

Chris wasn't embarrassed by this, though he could see that Vin was. "You won't be alone, Vin. I promise I'll stay with you."

Part Fifteen

Vin didn't remember it ever being so hard to roll up his bedding. Something just wasn't right but he couldn't figure out what it was. He looked over his shoulder - there was the two other blankets folded up out of the way. Chris already had his done. Vin was only rolling up the one blanket in his bedroll. He sighed, and started over.

Chris saddled the two horses, then picked up their canteens. "I'll go tell Buck and JD we're going." He told Vin. "Get some more water." Vin tipped his head up once to show he heard, but kept at that bedroll. Chris watched him a few seconds more. Not that he believed in ghosts, but he wouldn't be surprised to see Vin's Grandpa shimmering out there in the forest. "I'll send JD back."

"...'kay..."

+ + + + + + +

Buck and JD weren't having any luck fishing. "All that damn fossil huntin'..." Buck scolded. "We could have us a whole bucket load of fish by now ‘cept you ‘n Vin had to scare ‘em all down to the Pacific Ocean..."

"For one thing Buck, the Pacific Ocean ain't down, it's West. For another thing, I doubt seriously that this here creek goes anywhere near any ocean. And thirdly, any fish that lives in this stream couldn't live in an ocean ‘cause -"

"You're just gettin' way too talkative JD. You gotta spend less time around Ezra... stop readin' them ‘cyclopedias... Chris..." Chris had come up behind them. "How's Vin?"

"We're heading back...JD - you go help Vin get his bedroll together?"

"Yeah, sure Chris." JD hurried to his feet. "What is it?"

"He ain't feeling well is all. Gettin' a sore throat. Figure Nathan better have a look at it."

"Sure." JD said again and headed off. Buck got their fishing gear together as he studied the look on Chris' face.

"What is it really?"

"Sore throat." Chris was about to crouch down to fill the canteens but Buck grabbed his arm.

"What is it - really?" Concern - bordering on anger - filled his voice. "Tell me."

Chris shook his head. "He's back where he was this whole past week. Turned inside himself. He was sleepin', had a bad dream. Woke up and had that hunted look in his eyes. Hands cold again. Not talkin', not lookin' up."

"What the hell kinda dream did he have?"

"...think it was his grandpa..."

"Damn..." Buck was truly angry now. "Son of a bitch is dead and still beatin' on that boy. He really got a sore throat Chris? Or is that just an excuse to go back?"

"No, he's really got one. Bein' out in the rain last week, in the creek today, better to have Nathan look at him before it gets worse."

+ + + + + + +

The two of them went back to the campsite. Buck saw right away that Chris wasn't exaggerating. JD was nowhere near him, and Vin stood away as though shy of him. He'd given up on the bedroll and let the kid do it for him. JD was just tying it onto the saddle. Buck knew without being told that hovering wouldn't ease the situation.

"We'll head back now." Chris said.

"We'll catch up after we strike camp." Buck told him. Vin waited till JD was a good way away from his horse before he swung up. Buck walked closer, not right up to Vin, but close enough that Vin knew he was talking to him. "It'll be okay." and Buck wasn't talking about the sore throat.

+ + + + + + +

"Yep, you got a sore throat." Nathan pronounced.

"I already told you that." Vin scowled. "Can't y'just make it stop hurtin'?"

"I'll give you something to gargle with, that'll help. Then you can drink some -"

"Gargle?" Vin pronounced it as though it was the strangest word he'd ever heard.

"Yes - gargle." Nathan's look was even more threatening than the pain in his throat, so Vin stayed quiet the rest of the examination.

+ + + + + + +

"We takin' shifts to make sure Vin follows every last thing Nathan's telling him to do?" Buck asked. "Sometimes I think he just makes stuff up to see if we will do it."

"I'll watch him." Chris said firmly. They were leaning against the railing outside Nathan's clinic.

"He needs more than watching Chris."

"You tellin' me my business?"

"I'm tellin' you Vin's business. You ain't gonna just sit back and watch him Chris. A whole week ‘a that got him nowhere. Y'seen how he perked up in less than a day, actin' foolish and bein' fussed over."

"Vin don't want to be fussed over. I ain't gonna fuss over him." Chris thought Buck must've lost his mind. "He ain't JD, y'know."

"He don't gotta be JD -"

"Listen Buck -"

"Can't you two never be quiet?" Vin's voice from the doorway startled them into silence. He looked even more sickly, if that was possible, hands pulled up inside his sleeves, arms pressed close against himself for warmth.

"Who's takin' charge of the prisoner?" Nathan asked, standing behind Vin.

Buck started to answer, more to prompt Chris than because he intended to do it, and he was gratified when Chris spoke:

"I am."

And only Buck noticed the thankful look Vin turned up to Chris.

"Allright, I done told Vin, ‘less he wants to be locked up in my clinic, he's got to eat t'keep his strength up, he's got to stay warm - AND - he's got to sleep indoors for the time being." Vin grumbled something then turned to look over his shoulder at Nathan.

"Damn ditch water."

"You take care of yourself Vin, and you won't need no more ‘damn ditch water'. You remember that."

"Yeah."

Buck stepped forward. "Come on Nathan. I'll buy you a drink, since I don't think Vin will..." They stepped past the other two and walked toward the saloon. When they were gone, Chris considered Vin - and Buck's words.

"Y'okay?" He asked.

Vin considered Chris - and the bits of conversation he'd overheard. "Cold."

"C'mon, we'll head over to the boardinghouse. I'll start a fire in the woodstove, get you warmed up. Keep y'away from Nathan." Chris willed himself forward and put his arm around Vin's shoulders. "C'mon kid, let's go."

And Chris was graced with Vin's third smile of the week.

Part Sixteen

Vin hated to be sick. Hated to sit with nothing to do, not even keep an eye out for any kind of trouble. No trouble brewing in Chris' room at the boardinghouse, unless it was the trouble Vin was getting himself into every time he tried to stir from the chair.

"You need help building that fire?" He asked. Chris had his back to him as he filled the woodstove with kindling and paper.

"No."

"Could get you the matches."

"Got ‘em right here."

"More kindling?"

"No."

Vin tried to think of anything else that would get him out of that chair. Chris had already had him take off his hat and coat and boots, so there wasn't that to do anymore. He hated being sick. A piece of paper escaped Chris' hand and floated to the floor and Vin started to retrieve it. Chris had been a father long enough to have eyes in the back of his head.

"SIT."

So Vin sat.

"I ain't all that sick I got t'stay here if I don't want to." He muttered. Chris heard him but ignored him. If Vin really wanted to leave, he'd be gone by now. He must be sick enough to stay. Sick enough to not feel good, not so sick that he wouldn't get restless. An annoying combination.

Chris started the fire and adjusted the flue. "You'll feel warmer in a minute or two." He said. "I'll get you a blanket ..." Far from arguing about it, Vin welcomed the blanket and the warmth it promised.

"Thanks." He wrapped it around his shoulders and curled his hands into it. Chris sat in the other chair and for a little while the two men just stared at the flickers of fire visible through the chinks in the metal of the stove. After a few moments, Vin asked:

"Y'ever think about all y'ever been through in your life, every little thing good and bad ever been done to you, every person y'ever met, every step y'ever took in your whole life, and all it comes down to at this very moment is sitting here, staring a fire? Don't that seem odd? Like bein' blown from a hurricane into a forest fire and out the other side with not a scratch on you..."

"I wouldn't say without a scratch." Chris told him. Vin stared at him a moment.

"...I hate being sick." Was all he said. Till a few minutes later. "...just seems odd..."

"Well, I reckon this'll become one of those steps we ever took in our life that takes us to the next." Chris said. "Life ain't really days, anyway. All it ever seems to be is each step you take..."

"Sometimes it's days." Vin said. "Once I spent a whole day out by a stream. I remember the whole day. Nobody cared where I was, didn't nobody come lookin' for me. I remember the whole day." It sounded like should've been a happy memory so Chris thought it would be safe to talk about.

"What were you doing out by the stream all day?" He asked. The dark looked that crossed Vin's face told Chris he'd made a mistake.

"Nothin'..." Vin stared down at the blanket, and shifted it closer around himself. Chris didn't know if he should pull back or forge ahead. But Vin wanted to tell somebody, wanted somebody to help him ‘sort it out' like Josiah said. "Chris? You remember you said, after my Ma's service, y'said I could talk to you -?"

"It was before..." Chris interrupted, and was instantly sorry that he had. What the hell difference did it make?

"What?" Vin looked up at him.

Chris shook his head. "Just - it wasn't after the service, it was a coupla days before. It don't matter when it was..."

"Oh..." Vin lowered his eyes again and seemed to have to regroup his train of thought. "I'm just thinkin', maybe - maybe if I could figure out what I done wrong, maybe then I'd understand why."

"Why what?" Chris thought that might be an easy question - and answer - to get through. There were so many possibilities of things that Vin might've done wrong in his life - sorting through those could take years.

"Why I got the life I did..." Vin's voice had taken on that lifeless quality, no energy behind his words. "I'm so little, I can't make out what I musta done that was so bad I got to be treated like that. I never could figure it out when I'm a little guy. Tried real hard though. Just never could figure out what I was doin' so wrong."

All the reasons he hadn't wanted to talk to Vin suddenly reared up in Chris. For the first time, he realized that he just wasn't comfortable discussing Vin's childhood abuse. He didn't know why and he needed time to figure it out. He looked at Vin - and Vin was looking back at him with such trust and hope that Chris would help him finally get his demons figured out, Chris couldn't back down.

"Why were you at the stream that day?"

"I'm soakin' my hands..."

Chris automatically looked to Vin's hands, but they were hidden in the blanket. He didn't remember any scars or other signs of harm. "All day?"

"Waitin' - waitin' for the swelling t'go down."

Lord, Chris didn't want to go here. "What swelling Vin?" He asked when Vin didn't go on.

"When I'm little, just a real little fella, my Ma liked flowers. And I'd go pick her wildflowers whenever I found any. She always seemed to like ‘em. She'd hug me, ‘n tell me she loved me ‘n that she couldn't never asked for no nicer little boy..." He looked into Chris' eyes, wanting him to guess what happened, so that he wouldn't have to say it.

"What happened Vin?" He saw those tears welling up in Vin's eyes again.

"My Grandma - she always seemed in a sour mood. Hell, they both did, but I thought - I thought Grandma's at least were supposed to be - I thought they were supposed to be nice. Not her, always sour. Always what I shoulda done or didn't do or was gonna have to do. She just always seemed so disappointed in me...I figured givin' my Ma flowers always made her happy. Figured all I had to do was just give my Grandma some flowers ‘n she'd be happy. There was wild flowers, real nice ones growin' over the fence to the McGinty's, so I picked her some." His expression grew darker, his voice more pained. "I give ‘em to her. She asked where I got ‘em from, so I told her..."

"And?" Chris asked unwillingly.

Vin closed his eyes, pressing against the tears. His voice was a small, pained whisper. "She slammed the door on my hands for thievin'. Then told me to get outta her house till I'm done cryin'. Said she couldn't stand to hear it. So I went down to the stream and soaked my hands till the swelling went down. Soaked ‘em till they were ice and I couldn't feel ‘em no more." He didn't open his eyes again for the longest time.

Chris stared at Vin, as he sat silent and bowed under his memories. He didn't want to talk about it because it was sickening and there was nothing he could do. Vin had lived it - survived it - and talking about just riled Chris up so much, he wanted to hurt somebody, almost anybody, for the hurt, scared little kid that Vin had been. Chris had so much hate going on inside of him already, talking to Vin about his past just added fuel to that fire, and Chris didn't like the feeling.

"You wouldn't ‘a done that, would you Chris?" Vin asked without opening his eyes. "You wouldn't ‘a hurt Adam if he's tryin' to make you happy? Even if he did something wrong doing it, you wouldn't ‘a hurt him, would you?"

Memories of his son only added to Chris' venom. Still, he kept his voice even."No, I wouldn't have done that."

After another moment or two, Vin finally opened his eyes. But he still stared down. "Be allright if I'm to go lay down now? Awful tired all of a sudden."

"Sure, I'll turn the bed down for you..." Chris got up out of his chair, thankful that the discussion had come to an end.

"No..." Vin insisted. "...I'll sleep in my own bed. I don't gotta put you out."

"You'll sleep here." Chris informed him. He wondered if Vin had already forgotten telling Chris he didn't want to be alone. Was that only this morning? He tried to sound lighthearted. "Your choice was with me, or locked in at Nathan's - your call."

Vin looked at the bed, then up at Chris. "I get bad dreams..."

"I know." Chris hunkered down in front of Vin. "You told me this morning, remember?" And Vin almost nodded. "And I told you, I wouldn't leave you alone."

"I don't want t'put y'out...I ain't meanin' t'be so much trouble."

"You're sick Vin, you need lookin' after is all. Ain't no trouble. Hell, be a heap more trouble from Nathan if I was to leave you be...you just get some rest and let that medicine have a chance to work on you." But Vin didn't answer, he squeezed his eyes shut again.

"Vin - I know you've been ridin' a rough trail this past week or so. Y'just got to hang on and eventually you'll come out onto the open. I know - I've ridden that trail. It seems hard now - and bein' sick'll make it just that harder. But I told you I won't leave you alone and I won't. You ain't that little boy anymore Vin. Can't nobody hurt you. You remember that. You let that work on you just the same as Nathan's ditch water. Okay?"

Eyes still closed, Vin nodded.

Part Seventeen

"How's he doing?" Buck whispered, peeking around the door. Chris motioned him in and he took the chair Vin had been sitting in. Vin was asleep in Chris' bed. His shirt, pants, and boots were piled neatly close enough to the bed that he could reach them in an instant. He slept in his long johns. "Did he eat much downstairs?" Buck asked.

"Some, said it hurt to swallow..." Chris looked over to make sure they weren't disturbing Vin. "He was more interested in getting warm."

"I bet, his hands were like ice yesterday...what is it?" Buck asked. An angry look had settled on Chris.

"Ice." Remembering what Vin had said about his hands.

"What about ice?" Buck didn't understand what Chris was getting at. When Chris looked back over at Vin, Buck got annoyed. Still whispering, he conveyed his annoyance. "Look here Chris. I'm gettin' a little bit tired of having to drag every blessed thing out of you about Vin. You're the one he seems to turn to the most, sure - don't mean the rest of us got nothin' to say about it."

Chris gave Buck a squinty look, considering. He knew Buck would wear himself out taking care of any one of the Seven, especially JD - maybe especially Vin now too. Chris knew that Buck had a stronger gentle side, if that made sense, and was more willing to expose that gentleness. That might be what Vin was going to need to get through this. So, briefly, quietly, Chris told Buck what Vin had told him about his hands.

Buck had never struck a woman in his life, but at that moment he would've gladly thrashed Vin's grandmother. "Sometimes Chris, I am amazed that Vin turned out as nice as he did...way he was raised up - amazin' he ain't the murderer he's s'posed to be...and that's what he's told you. Imagine what he ain't talked about yet."

Yet. Chris didn't want to hear anymore. "Amazin' he survived at all..."

Buck considered the look on Chris' face. "You want me to spell you here a bit? Get some air? Don't look like he's gonna wake up anytime soon."

"No, thanks Buck." Chris almost took him up on it. But he didn't want to risk not being there if Vin did wake up.

"Tell y'what - I'll bring a cot over so y'don't have to sleep on the floor...you got a hard floor and don't I know it!" Buck laughed quietly. "Bring some supper over for you later on, too." Buck stood up and before he turned to leave, lightly thumped Chris on the shoulder. "You're doing a good job here Pard."

Chris nodded, not entirely in agreement. "I'm doing my best."

The pain in his throat woke Vin. He only heard the last few sentences, then the sound of Buck leaving. He didn't move for a minute, he was comfortable in the bed, warm under the quilt. Beds were for being sick and Lord, he felt sick. His throat hurt so bad now, he wanted the ditch water that would make him feel better... He wondered if his voice would even carry.

"Chris?" He pushed himself up on one shaking arm.

"How're you doing?" Chris went to the bed. Vin sounded worse.

"Want t'sit up..." Vin said and Chris helped him sit back against the headboard, tucking the pillow behind him. "Thanks..."

"How's your throat?"

Vin sighed. "Hurts - got any of that damn ditch water? Woke me up it hurts so bad." Chris gave him a cup of the repulsive water and pulled a chair over to sit next to the bed.

"Buck n' me didn't wake you up, did we?" Chris asked. "We tried to be quiet - - he wanted to see how you're doing." But Vin knew that was only partly true.

"He wanted to see how youwere doin'..." he took long swallows out of the cup to get it over with fast. "He worries ‘bout you same as he worries ‘bout the rest of us... more probably, bein' your friend so long."

"You ain't heard us arguin' then."

"I heard you. Y'argue like brothers, y'know that? Y'spit n' holler at each other, then sure's shootin', the next thing you're sittin' out on the boardwalk together, talkin' like nothin' happened." Vin finished the water and Chris took the cup from him.

"You shouldn't be talkin' so much, ain't good for your throat." Still, it warmed Chris some to hear - he'd never thought of it that way, him and Buck being like brothers. But now that Vin said it, yeah, that's exactly what they were like. Sometimes it seemed like you yelled the worst at the people you knew you would never drive away, the people who took you back no matter what. And that was Buck. 'Sure's shootin''.

"He'd follow y'into Hell y'know." Vin went on. "Even if you was wrong." He tried to look and sound deadly serious, but a smile tugged at his mouth as he finished: "And y'know - you're wrong a lot." Chris glared at him, but Vin laughed as much as his throat would let him.

"You gotta do better than that Larabee if you're trying to scare me. I seen scarier faces on old women."

Part Eighteen

Buck and JD came into the saloon after dropping off the cot and some supper to Chris. A friendly game was in progress, between Nathan, Ezra,and Josiah, and they sat down at the table to wait the next hand.

"How fares our young Mr. Tanner and his angel of mercy?" Ezra inquired.

"Vin's sleepin', off ‘n on Chris says. He was sleepin' when we were there." Buck told them.

"Chris gonna make sure Vin eats?" Nathan asked. "He ain't gonna get better, he don't eat."

"Chris said he'd try..."

"Chris never struck me as one for ‘trying'." Josiah observed. "He does or he don't, nothin' in between."

"Vin's the same way though." Nathan said. "Hate to see those two go head to head..."

"Well, if Mr. Tanner remains ill enough to keep him docile, we may avoid such a confrontation for the time being..." Ezra laid down what would've been the winning hand if Josiah hadn't had all the aces.

"Who would you bet on if it did happen?" JD asked.

Ezra shook his head at his sudden bad luck at cards, but didn't take a second to consider his answer to JD's question. "I would place all my money on Mr. Tanner." he said as he gathered the cards to deal again.

"Why?" JD had to know. Chris seemed the sure bet to him.

"Because JD -a man always fights hardest when he has nothing to lose."

+ + + + + + +

Footsteps.

Vin sat bolt upright in bed, heart pounding, cold hands trembling. Please please please... But the footsteps went down the hall and he relaxed. One night at least he wouldn't get walloped. He was about to lay back down when he froze - he heard breathing. Lord, no. He's in here with me. Please God, please... In the utter darkness, Vin couldn't see where he was. But he could hear the breathing. He was in here somewhere, asleep by the sound of it and Vin knew he had to get away. He put his hand over the side of the bed and found his clothes where he always kept them at night. Quiet with years of terrified practice, he pulled on his pants and shirt and fled the room, not stopping to put on his boots till he was out on the boardwalk.

He had to find Chris. Chris would protect him. Vin's hands were cold and he felt feverish and lightheaded. Chris would protect him. But he couldn't remember the last place he'd seen him. He tracked his brain, trying to remember.

+ + + + + + +

When Chris woke up, it was barely still nighttime, with just enough light coming through the window to show him that Vin was gone. At first he thought that Vin must've gone out to use the privy and Chris was annoyed that he hadn't worn his hat and coat. But when he saw Vin's holster and gun still slung over the back of the chair - then Chris worried.

The campfire was cold and no one was around. But this was where Chris was, Vin remembered that much. This was where Chris said he'd protect Vin. If he wasn't here now, he'd be back. So Vin sat down to wait. Chris would come back and protect him.

Chris went to the saloon first to look, then he planned to check the livery. Ezra was in the midst of a promising hand against three cowboys at one of the tables, but when he saw Chris - and the look on his face - he folded immediately and went to him. "What is it?" Chris should be with Vin, and if he wasn't - something was wrong.

"Vin - he's gone. I was hopin' he came here."

"I haven't seen him since yesterday. He's not so ill that he's become delirious, is he?"

"I didn't think so. But he didn't take his coat or his gun..."

"Is he in pain?" Ezra asked. Chris thought it was an odd question.

"Guess so - his throat hurt him." But it was a questioning tone.

Ezra wasn't talking about just physical pain. "Oftentimes, when a person is in the grip of overwhelming pain, they will seek out the last place they weren'tin pain..." He saw that Chris was following his line of thought. "I will alert the others and search the town. I suggest you search the last place you think Vin didn't feel this pain."

So Chris headed down to the creek, where they'd been camping only yesterday. It was growing daylight and he was about a quarter mile away from the spot when he saw Will O'Brien, waving him down by the side of the road.

"Hey Mister!" Will recognized him, but didn't know his name. "You lookin' for your brother? He's through here, down by a cold campfire."

"He's not my brother." Chris said immediately, and immediately wondered why he did. What the hell difference did it make? Will gave him a puzzled look.

"Well...anyway...he's through there. Didn't wake him, didn't want t'spook him. Just comin' into town to find y'all."

"Is he okay?" Chris asked.

Will shrugged. "Looks okay. Sittin' up, sittin' under the tree. Looked t'be sleepin'."

Chris dismounted when he came in sight of Vin and tied his horse to a tree. Vin did seem to be sleeping, sitting up, cross-legged in front of the cold campfire. Chris approached him quietly, crouched down in front of him and lightly shook him, hoping he wouldn't "spook" him. But Vin came awake slowly, calmly. His eyes focused on Chris.

"I'm lookin' for you." He said. His voice was raspy, and more raw than it had been the night before.

"Well, I guess you found me." Chris told him. He wanted to ask Vin why he'd come near two miles looking for him, when he'd been in the very same room with him all night. But there'd be time to ask that once Vin was safe back in town. "You ‘bout ready to head back?"

"No." Vin said strongly. Chris was surprised at his vehemence. "He's there. I heard him. He was there, last night, in the dark. I came here lookin' for you. Y'said you wouldn't let him - - y'said he wouldn't - -" But Vin couldn't remember exactly what Chris had said, only that it meant Vin would be safe.

"Who was there Vin? Your Grandpa?" Chris still didn't believe in ghosts, but the way Vin was talking about it gave him the heebee jeebees.

"He was there Chris. I heard him breathin'. He was there with me when I'm sleepin'. I had t'get away or he woulda hurt me...I tried to find you...only I couldn't remember where you were..."

Chris decided not to try to convince Vin at the moment that he'd been the one in the room last night, not his Grandpa. "I'm sorry Vin. I shoulda stayed closer to you. You c'mon back now and you'll be safe. I promise." Vin was shivering and Chris was sorry now that he'd exchanged his own warm blanket for Vin's sieve yesterday. He took his jacket off and put it over Vin's shoulders. "You c'mon back and we'll get you warmed up."

"I found these..." Vin said, suddenly rational again. He held up Buck's gloves. "...must've left ‘em here yesterday, we pulled out so fast..." He looked up at Chris, so tired and frustrated "...I know he's dead n'he can't hurt me. Just seems so real sometimes..."

"I know dreams can seem real." Chris set himself on the ground in front of Vin. "Ask Buck - ask him how many nights he trailed me to nowhere, just ‘cause I didn't want to go to sleep..." This didn't seem possible to Vin.

"You? Scared to sleep?"

Chris nodded. "Used to be...still kinda hard, sometimes..." It was still very early morning, and in the speckling sunlight, Vin had the look of a young boy, tired and confused. Chris knew - just because you survived something didn't mean you understood it. "...sometimes the things that hurt us stay with us longer than the things that don't. Dreams can just be old fear you ain't got rid of yet, or they can be like spring cleaning, y'know? Just your mind's way of burning away what it don't need no more." He watched Vin's eyes to see if this was making sense to him.

"Throat hurts real bad now." Was all Vin said. "Goes to my ears when I swallow." It hurt Chris just to listen to Vin's raspy voice. "Reckon bein' out here ain't helped any."

"C'mon, I'll take you back." Chris stood and held his hand out to help Vin up. Vin looked at him a second or two, like he was considering whether or not to take the help. Finally, he took Chris' hand and got to his feet slowly. His hands were ice. "You put them gloves on since y'got ‘em." Chris told Vin. "I'll get the horse." Vin put his arms through the sleeves of the jacket and pulled the gloves on, and trailed Chris to his horse.

"Swing up behind me and I'll get you back to town." Chris said as he prepared to mount his horse.

But Vin balked. "No."

"What?"

"I ain't gonna ride - I can walk."

"It's two miles."

"I can walk." Vin insisted again.

"You can't walk and I ain't about to." Chris told him. "You swing up behind me and I'll take you back to town." Vin was pissin' Chris off and he knew it. He wasn't doing it on purpose. He just didn't want to ride with Chris back into town.

"Can I have some water?"

That eased off some of Chris' anger. "Sure." He walked the few steps to hand Vin the canteen, and watched him squeeze his eyes shut in pain with swallowing. "Hurts real bad?"

"Getting worse somethin' regular. Hurts bad just to swallow my own spit." Vin took another swallow and handed the canteen back. "Guess Nathan ain't gonna be happy, hunh?" And the way he said it made Chris wonder if he was really scared of what Nathan would say.

"I won't let Nathan nag at you Vin...c'mon, let's get home." Vin nodded and after Chris mounted up, he swung up behind him. He was hot and cold, tired and in pain. Chris worried that Vin wouldn't make it to town, even on horseback. "Holdin' on?"

"Yeah..."

Chris felt him put his arms around him, he was still shivering. "Won't take long Vin. I'll getcha to Nathan's."

"...'kay..."

A few minutes into the ride back to town, Chris felt Vin rest his head against his shoulder and the way his body relaxed, Chris knew he was asleep.

Nathan came out to the five men waiting on the balcony of his clinic. "When's Miss Nettie comin' back to town?" He asked no one in particular.

"End of next week." JD said.

"Might want to get word to her..." and Nathan went back to his patient.

Part Nineteen

Buck thought he'd never see that look on Chris' face again, that look of disbelief mixed with grief and anger. "Diphtheria?" Chris asked - demanded - of Nathan.

Nathan had to tell him the truth. "Looks like. If we're lucky though, maybe just a bad case of quinsy."

"And that ain't as bad, is it?" Buck asked, trying to ease the situation. But the silence that preceded Nathan's answer told the story.

"We just gotta wait n' see." Nathan said. "Vin's general condition ain't been all that good lately. More'n anything else, Vin's got to want to get well. And I just don't see that in him."

"When will you know?" Chris asked.

"Could be two days, could be two weeks. We just gotta wait."

+ + + + + + +

Vin had never gone from feeling so middlin' to so poorly so fast in all his life. When he fell asleep riding behind Chris, his throat hurt bad. Now, his throat, his back, and his head all hurt with the same stabbing sharpness, and he had chills so bad the frame of Nathan's bed shook. Not only did it hurt to swallow, it was getting downright hard to do.

"Ez? You reckon Nathan's got anymore - anymore blankets ‘round?" It took two breaths to get the sentence out. Ezra was with Vin while Nathan talked with Chris and Buck, and JD and Josiah went to wire Nettie.

"Well, if he doesn't, I'm sure we will be more than able to appropriate a sufficient number to -" Ezra spoke less than calmly as he opened cupboards and looked under shelves. "- ah, here we are. One more anyway." He pulled a quilt from a bottom cupboard, feeling no small amount of relief, and shook it out to lay on top of the three blankets Vin already had over him.

"Th - th- thanks." Even his teeth were chattering.

Ezra wasn't sure what he should be doing for Vin, but he didn't want to interrupt the conversation taking place out on the balcony. He'd heard the word, diphtheria, but he didn't let himself dwell on it. After he spread the quilt and tucked the edge under the mattress, he turned to the stove. "Perhaps there is some way to make this phlogiston exude more warmth."

Vin nearly choked just hearing that first word, but understood the second. "...'p-'p-'preciate it, Ez..." Ezra gave Vin a quick smile, and for some reason, Vin felt he had to ask: "Y' -y' -y'mind bein' called ‘Ez', Ez?"

Puzzled by the question, Ezra turned back. "No, I don't mind at all." In fact, he actually enjoyed it.

"I wouldn't want to c- c- call y'somethin' y'didn't like."

Ezra inwardly shook his head. Vin was quite possibly dying, and yet he took the energy and the breath to make sure he wasn't being troublesome. "You may believe me Mr. Tanner, when I tell you that I have been called every name under the sun in my lifetime, yet none have settled quite so affably on my person as ‘Ez'."

Vin had to ask. "Hunh?" and Ezra smiled again.

"There is no name dearer to a person's heart than that name by which he is called a friend." And Vin blinked a few times.

"So - so -" he shivered. "Y'don't mind?"

"No Vin. I don't mind."

"'kay."

Part Twenty

After JD and Josiah got a telegraph off to Nettie, they made their way back to Nathan's. JD was so intent on something going on inside him that he ran into three different people. He tipped his hat - "Sorry, Ma'am" and was about to take up his journey again but Josiah stopped him.

"Son, you're gonna get somebody killed you don't watch where you're going."

"I'm sorry Josiah. I just got a lot on my mind..."

"You're worried about Vin..." Not a question.

"No - I mean yeah, I'm worried about him - - it's just..."

Josiah waited a moment for JD to get his thoughts together. It was almost impossible to not read every thought and emotion that ran through JD's mind because they simultaneously ran across his face. "You think you caused this? Vin gettin' sick?"

"I made him wade into the creek with me."

"You held a gun to his head?"

"No."

"You tricked him?"

"No..."

"Pushed him then."

"NO." JD was getting annoyed, he thought Josiah was just making fun. "But he wouldn't have gone in and got all wet and cold if I hadn't suggested it. Then he got sick." He waited for - expected - Josiah to agree that splashing in the creek was the cause of all of Vin's malady, but he didn't. Josiah put his arm around JD and led him toward Nathan's.

"Son, whatever is wrong with Vin, it started a long time before he played with you in that creek. I seen you around him all this past week, I don't think any one of the rest of us tried so hard to cheer him up. From what Buck told me, before Vin got so sick yesterday, he was the happiest Buck has ever seen him, not just the past week, but ever since he met him. You did that JD. You didn't make him sick. You mighta just given him a reason to want to get well."

Between the stove, the quilt, and the tincture of aconite in sweet spirits of nitre, Vin slowly stopped shivering. The pains all over his body dulled some too and he drifted off in the soft warm bed and soft warm pillow. Ezra sat in the chair near the bed and watched him sleep. He was tired, he'd been awake now over twenty four hours. But there was only one thing on his mind right now.

Diphtheria.

Good Lord.

The door opened and Nathan, Chris, and Buck came in. "How's he doin'?" Nathan asked as he laid a gentle hand on Vin's forehead.

"He has improved greatly, which is in itself a frightening thought, given his current appearance."

"Ezra, how long has it been since you slept?" A quiet, concerned voice asked. Ezra was surprised to realize that it was Chris who asked that question.

"Well, it has been awhile, Mr. Larabee, now that you ask."

"Go on home then Ez', and get some sleep." Chris lightly pressed Ezra's shoulder. "There's any change, we'll let you know."

"I believe I may take you up on that suggestion." Ezra unfolded himself from the chair. "Do let me know if there is any way I can be of assistance."

Buck decided Chris would be too preoccupied with Vin to notice who else was in the room. "Come on Ezra, I'll walk that way with you. I'll check back in a while Nathan, see if y'all need anything."

As they left the room, both with a long look back at Vin, Chris took Ezra's chair. "Has his fever gone down?"

"Some, not as much as I'd like...you ain't got much sleep either by the looks of it."

"I'm fine."

"Uh hunh." Nathan ran his eyes over Chris, assessing his condition. "I don't need but one patient at a time."

"I'm fine."

"Uh hunh...I gotta go to Mrs. Potter's, get some supplies. Guess I don't got to ask you to watch him for me till I get back."

"Guess not..." Chris agreed. Nathan left and after he shut the door the little room was quiet and warm. Chris retrieved his jacket from the neat pile of clothes tucked next to the bed and as he straightened up he found that Vin was looking at him. "Hey Cowboy... how y'doing?"

"Feel like I got caught in a buffalo stampede." The same raw, scratching voice. No energy behind it.

"Yeah, you look like it too...warm enough?"

"Guess...Nathan's all outta blankets anyway..." Vin wasn't comfortable being tucked away, sleeping in the middle of the day, in bed while his friends were up and around. "I ain't all that sick y'know. Y'don't gotta nursemaid me."

Chris didn't mention the nightmares or sleeplessness or the look Vin got in his eyes whenever he was even thinking about his grandfather. He opened his jacket and laid it over the quilt. Just as he was trying to think of what he could say, the door opened and JD poked his head around. His expression brightened when he saw that Vin was awake.

"Hey, Vin. I just wanted to see how you're doin'."

"Hey kid, I'm holdin' on. C'mon in ‘n shut the door, you're lettin' all the heat out."

"Sorry..." JD added that to the list of what he seemed to keep doing wrong. He shut the door, took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair. "Y'need anything? I met Nathan on his way to the store...is there anything I can get you?" He sounded almost desperate to be useful.

Vin was about to say no, but Chris cut in. "Think you could round up a few more blankets? And we'll need a steady supply of firewood too."

"Sure. I'll go right now." JD was grateful and flattered to be needed. He was about to turn and go when Vin called him back.

"JD? I just wanted to tell you - I ain't never had so much fun's I had yesterday - was it yesterday?" He asked Chris. "Not in as long as I can remember, I ain't never laughed that much or nothin'...I just wanted to tell you. Way my throat feels, I might not be able to tell you later. That was just the best day a' my life."

JD grinned. "Me too."

Part Twenty-one

Josiah met Nathan as he was heading back from Mrs. Potter's and turned to walk back toward the clinic with him. "Miss Nettie ought to be be here tonight..." Josiah observed. "If Vin does have diphtheria, don't you think it'd be better to keep her away from him, keep her safe from contagion?"

"Well if you can think of a way to keep Miss Nettie from where she wants to be Josiah, you go right ahead and try." Nathan told him. "I ain't about to get on her bad side."

"Do you really think it's diphtheria?" Josiah asked quietly. Better if no one overheard. "Could be lookin' at an epidemic if it is."

"I know - I'm hopin' it's just bad quinsy, which is bad enough. Vin ain't been outta town anytime recently, and I ain't heard of any cases anywhere's around anyway. Nobody else in town has it, or even seems to be comin' down with it. I'm hopin' it's just real bad quinsy."

Cayenne pepper

Vinegar

Salt

Boiling water

Vin watched Nathan through sticky eyelids as he mixed these ingredients. "You - y'ain't gonna make me drink that, are you?" He asked.

"No - it's to gargle with." Nathan told him, and Vin made a face. "C'mon now Vin, this'll help your throat."

"Y'at least gonna wait till that water cools off some ‘fore y'give it to me?"

"Yeah I will." Nathan came to the bed and felt Vin's forehead. He smiled down at him. "How d'you feel?"

"Hot...too damn hot in here..." Vin pushed the blankets and quilt down off his chest.

"You keep these up here." Nathan admonished him and pulled the covers back into place.

"...hot..."

"You'll be cold again soon enough. You keep covered now, y'hear? I'll get you some more medicine..." He smiled again but turned a very different expression to Chris, who left the chair to sit on the bed next to Vin.

"C'mon Pard, do what Nathan says. Keeps these covers on you." He held the blankets down on Vin's shoulders, as Vin fought to push them away again.

"No..." Vin shook his head back and forth on the pillows. "Hot."

"I know..." Chris felt Vin's forehead, felt the reason behind Nathan's worry - Vin was burning up.

"Here you go." Nathan came back with a cup. "You drink this Vin, you'll feel better." But Vin turned his head, refusing.

"No - don't like it. Don't want it...hot..." He was hot, but not sweating. "Hurts...make it stop hurting..."

"Vin." Nathan's voice was firm. "Drink this, it'll ease the pain. You took it before, remember? It made the pain go away and helped you to sleep. Remember?" Vin remembered, but wasn't so sick that he'd give in so fast.

"Don't like it..." He kept his face turned away. "Don't want it..." His voice was weak, he sounded more like a child. He got past Chris' hands and pushed the blankets away. "I'm hot." Chris pulled the blankets back into place.

"Vin - you hear me?" Chris asked in his most intimidating voice. Vin turned to him. "You gonna take that medicine, or am I gonna hold you down while Nathan gives it to you?" He pressed just a little harder onto Vin's shoulders to indicate that he meant what he said.

"Don't like it." Vin tried one more time. "Tastes nasty."

"If it helps you Vin, it don't matter what it tastes like." Chris said.

"You ain't the one's gotta take it." Vin scowled. He began to shiver violently again. "...cold...damn I'm cold." He sounded scared.

"C'mon ‘n drink this Vin...it's just a little bit. You'll feel better..."

And Vin finally took the cup in his trembling hands, Chris helping him sit up for the few seconds it took to swallow the aconite and nitre. He choked a little on it, and coughing felt like a knife going through his throat. He grabbed Chris' arm involuntarily, squeezing hard in pain.

"You okay? Vin?" But Vin couldn't answer. "Nathan - is he okay?"

"Hurts...hurts so bad." Vin finally managed to say. "Can't - can't breathe.."

"Nathan?" Chris demanded.

"It's okay Vin, it's okay." Nathan could see that Vin was breathing - he wasn't having an easy time of it, but he was breathing. He put his hand on Vin's back, feeling the heat of Vin's skin through his longjohns. "You're breathin' Vin. Just take it slow, take as deep a breath as you can..."

Vin was scared, it showed in his eyes as he looked to Nathan for help. Chris was scared too, it showed in the way he clenched his jaw as he stared at Vin, watching the shuddering breath Vin took in and let out.

"That's good Vin...that's real good. You're doin' okay." Nathan encouraged him. "You do that a couple more times and I'll get you some water, all right?" Vin nodded and Nathan stepped away to get a cup of water.

"You okay Pard?" Chris asked and Vin turned back to him and shook his head. "Cold...hurts..." Chris was holding him upright with a hand on each arm. Vin's skin was alarmingly hot, and he was shivering as though he was out in a snow storm.

"Nathan - how long it'll take for that medicine to work?"

"Half hour. His body's got to absorb it..."

"Ain't y'got nothing that'll work faster?"

Vin listened to them talk, feeling Chris holding onto him, holding him upright. He was hot, he was cold, his whole body hurt...he kept his eyes on the third button of Chris' shirt to try to hold himself in one spot while the room spun around him.

"Soon as this water cools down, I'll have him gargle with it, that'll help the pain in his throat..."

"We could get some ice, that'll cool it down faster..."

Nathan knew Chris was worried, none of them had ever seen Vin this sick, but if Chris expected to spend every blessed second of Vin's illness second guessing him, Nathan figured he'd have to rob the bank just to give Chris something else to do.

"Chris - I know how sick Vin is..." Nathan spoke slowly, more to ease his growing aggravation than to be sure he was understood. "I know he's in a hell of a lot of pain. The medicine will work, it just takes time. This all takes time." And Chris knew he was right. He looked at Vin, who was looking at him with his scared young eyes.

"How y'doin' Pard? Y'hangin' on?" He asked gently. Vin still shivered.

"C-c-c-old C-c-chris. Real - real cold."

"Okay, here, lie back and we'll get you covered up. That medicine'll work before you know it." He supported Vin back onto the pillows and pulled three blankets, a quilt, and his jacket back over him. "Just try to stay quiet now."

Vin looked from Chris to Nathan and back again. "You too." Chris glared at him and Vin smiled in spite of the heat and the cold and the pain. "You're gonna have t-t-to do better than that Larabee if you want to scare me. I s-s-seen scarier faces on old women..."

Part Twenty-two

Judging from the pile of blankets at the foot of the bed, and the stack of firewood near the woodstove, a lot of people in town were going to be cold tonight. As always, JD had put his whole heart and soul into his mission. Now he sat in the chair at the head of the bed while Chris and Nathan discussed Vin at the window across the room.

The medicine hadn't helped as much as last time, Vin was still hot and cold and in pain. Everything was blurred and the room spun no matter how much he tried to focus on what was going on around him. He could hear the voices, he wasn't really alone. But he wanted someone near him again. He wanted somebody to sit next to him on the bed and keep a hand on him so that he'd always know they were there.

The voices were distant, Nathan and Chris. You could always tell Chris, even when he was trying to be quiet. ‘Chris - please' Vin's mind formed the words, but not his voice. ‘Come back and sit with me' Even awake and able, Vin never would've said those words out loud. ‘Somebody please - I don't wanna be alone...' He felt so sick and in so much pain. He wanted somebody to make it stop. If somebody would just come sit near him and make him not alone, it would stop. He knew it would. But nobody came over to him.

‘Please - it hurts. Make it stop hurting.'

Sitting next to Vin, JD only saw that he was restless. He blinked occasionally but didn't seem to be focusing on anything. JD did his best to keep the blankets up to his shoulders, but every once in a while, Vin would hitch them down again. He took the rag off Vin's forehead to soak in the cold water, wring out, and replace. For a second, Vin's eyes settled on the kid.

"Don't..." ‘Don't leave'. All JD heard was the first word. He thought Vin didn't like the rag.

"It'll make you feel better Vin, honest."

Vin reached out and took hold of JD's wrist. "Hurts."

JD knew he wasn't talking about the cold water. "I know it hurts Vin. I wish there was something else I could do for you." He put his hand over Vin's hand on his arm. "Just hold onto me Vin, if you want to. I ain't goin' nowhere." Vin closed his eyes and turned away, restless again and fidgety under the blankets. Swallowing was hell-fire.

‘I don't wanna be alone. I don't like it. Please somebody come sit with me. Make it stop hurting. Please somebody. Please Chris stop talking and come sit next to me again. Make it go away. Please please please please...I don't wanna be alone'

"So you don't think it's diphtheria?" Chris was asking. He'd be relieved except for the worried look on Nathan's face.

"Looks like quinsy. He ain't got the membrane in the back of his throat, but he got that abscess building up. That's why it hurts him so much to swallow.".

"Contagious?"

Nathan shook his head. "Just happens to some folks...but it's BAD quinsy. He ain't gonna have an easy time of it..."

"Hell, he ain't havin' an easy time of it now."

Vin kept his hand on JD's wrist but it didn't help; he couldn't be constantly sure that it was another person and not just a blanket or pillow he was clinging to. ‘Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease' the repetition diverted his mind from the pain, but only a little. ‘Somebody please hold me. Don't wanna be alone no more. I don't like it. How come I always gotta be alone? How come I always gotta be alone? Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease...'

"How is he?" Nathan asked. He and Chris came back to the bed.

"Fidgety...says it hurts...he gonna be okay Nathan?"

"I hope so JD. But it ain't gonna happen overnight."

Seeing that Vin held onto JD, Chris didn't ask him to move out of the chair, he sat on the bed. Vin was breathing hard, tense and pressed down into the mattress by the pain. "What now Nathan?"

"Gotta get him different medicine...mercurius bin...that's good for quinsy. I ain't got none though, gotta wire around, see if I can find some. While I do that, you keep him cooled off much as you can, give him water if he'll take it. JD - will you get some clear soup from the restaurant? That's probably the only nourishment he'll be able to take..."

"Sure..." JD carefully slid out of Vin's grasp and tucked his hand under the blankets. "You need anything Chris?"

"Nahh JD, thanks."

Vin felt the bed shift as someone sat down. Then the sudden coolness as his hand lost its grip on whatever he'd been holding onto. Voices. Nathan. JD. Chris. ‘Chris...' Vin turned his head but it was hard to open his eyes. ‘Chris...' Chris fuzzed in and out of focus and the room spun behind him. Vin tried to get his hand out from under the covers to hang onto Chris to try to keep from falling off the bed as it rolled, but Chris put out his own hand to stop him. Just as he was about to tell Vin again to stay covered, Vin wrapped his hand around Chris' and held on for dear life.

"Well, hey Pard..." Chris was a little surprised, both at how strong Vin was in spite of being sick - and the fact that he was hanging on at all. Vin focused intently on Chris.

"PLEASE DON'T LEAVE." He managed to say, and that was all. His voice was as desperate as his grip. Chris didn't know if it was the illness, the nightmares, the memories, or something else entirely, but Vin was terrified. Nothing would move Chris from this spot.

"I ain't gonna leave you." He let Vin continue to crush his hand. "Close your eyes and get some rest Vin. I ain't gonna leave. You get some rest...." With his free hand, Chris patted Vin's shoulder, trying to be reassuring. Vin's eyes opened and closed a few times, making sure each time that Chris was still there, until finally he could keep them open no longer.

‘Don't wanna die alone...' Was his last thought as sleep washed over him. "...like my Ma...'

Part Twenty-three

Buck came into the saloon after dropping off the cot and some dinner to Chris and Nathan at the clinic. Ezra was alone at a table, playing solitaire, and Buck sat down with him. He took off his hat and rubbed his eyes.

"How fares our young Mr. Tanner?" Ezra asked, concern bordering on alarm in his voice, seeing the look on Buck's face.

"Ahh - hell if I know Ezra." Buck said. "Guess his fever's backed off a little bit, ‘n he got some soup down into him. But Nathan's got that dead serious look on his face, and if Chris grits his teeth any harder we're gonna have to get him store-bought." He flipped his hat onto the table with a backward toss. "I need a beer..." He signaled the bartender.

"Has Nathan found any mercurius bin?" Ezra asked. If he wasn't so worried, that sentence could've been three times as long.

"Yeah, Eagle Bend. Praise God." An honest prayer. The bartender set his beer on the table.

"Amen, Brother Wilmington." Ezra toasted with his shot glass. "I gather that's where I saw Josiah racing off to moments ago."

"Yep, swore he'd be back by nightfall."

"And Mr. Dunne would be found...?"

"Sitting outside Nathan's door, ‘case anything's needed..." Buck said. They drank a moment or two in silence, then Ezra had to ask:

"Tell me Buck - would you have thought, all those months ago, before our little band formed, that today you would be sitting here, keeping vigil for a rough-hewn, unkempt, untamed, illiterate bounty hunter?"

"Ezra - all those months ago I wouldna thought that today I'd know what the word ‘unkempt' even means..." But Buck smiled and shook his head. "We all kinda growed on each other, ain't we? Who'd ‘a thought I'd be ridin' with a preacher, or Chris with a greenhorn or you -" Buck caught himself a second too late.

" - - with an ex-slave..." Ezra supplied. "...indeed..."

"I just mean - friends is where you find ‘em, and sometimes you find ‘em where you need ‘em...y'know what I mean?" Buck was trying hard to overcome his mis-statement.

"I do know Buck." Ezra said. "Chris is a hero to JD, which they both need. Nathan's and my friendship has in many ways been healing for both of us." But the conversation was getting much to serious. "And you, Mr. Wilmington, certainly need salvation more than any of us which is something Brother Sanchez has in ample supply..." They both got a laugh out of that. Then Buck asked:

"And that puts Vin where? What does he need?"

Since his mother's service, Ezra had made it a point to study Vin, wanting to understand a man apparently completely self-contained. He said: "I believe Vin needs a great many things that he is either unaware of, unable to ask for, or unwilling to risk needing from another human being."

"Such as?"

Ezra spread his hands and rattled off his conclusions. "He needs a family, especially a big brother. He needs to know that he is accepted whether or not he is able to read. He needs a place he feels comfortable calling home." One thing especially though had become clear to Ezra these past few days as they all discussed Vin and his past. "He needs to know that his grandparents were wrong when they made him feel worthless and unlovable. He needs to know that he can be touched by another human being without it hurting him. He needs to know that he belongs - and not to put too fine a point on it Buck, Vin needs to know that he belongs with us."

+ + + + + + +

It was daylight when Vin opened his eyes. Daylight still? Or daylight again? He'd lost track of the days. No, it couldn't have been too long since he closed his eyes, Chris still had that puzzled look, staring at a picture in one of Nathan's medical books.

"What the hell is that?" He was asking, quietly.

"That's your liver..." Nathan looked over his shoulder at the page.

"That ain't my liver." Chris declared.

"That's everybody's liver Chris..."

And as the argument continued, Vin's eyes closed again and he shifted slightly under the blankets. He was nearly sitting upright against the pillows with blankets tucked behind so that he could breathe easier. He was as comfortable as he could be, still in pain but not as bad. The chills and the heat had come to some agreement and he didn't have the shakes, at least not right now.

Chris was still there, in the chair right beside the bed, looking a little worse for wear as the day progressed. Vin felt ashamed that he'd so desperately asked Chris to stay with him. Asked? No - begged - and Vin never begged. Even with his eyes closed, he turned his face further away from Chris at the memory of it.

At the movement, all conversation ceased while Nathan and Chris both tried to determine if Vin was awake, or merely restless in his sleep. Nathan moved to the bed and laid his hand on Vin's forehead to check his fever. Vin flinched and opened his eyes, pulling away in fear.

"It's okay Vin. It's just me." Nathan tried to reassure him. "I didn't mean t'scare you."

"...could warn a person..." Vin grumbled and turned away again. Not for want of trying, there was absolutely no energy behind his voice. It came out a hoarse whisper. He wondered if it would be polite to ask Chris to leave now.

But Nathan wasn't done with him. "Vin - I need you to drink some more soup, as long as you're awake." Vin only moaned and tried to turn further away.

"Vin..." Chris used his intimidating voice again. Earlier in the day - was it today? - that had been reassuring to Vin, that Chris cared enough to be worried enough to threaten him. Now it was just pissin' Vin off. Sure, he was sick, but he still knew his body and what it needed better than anybody. And right now he didn't need to eat.

"Ain't hungry."

"Don't matter." Chris said.

"Ain't hungry." And it suddenly flashed into Vin's mind all the times as a child he'd gone hungry, because he'd been bad, or - more usually - he'd simply been forgotten. He remembered that first and only time he'd refused to eat a boiled potato because it was still hard inside. How many times was he slapped for that till finally, crying, hands shaking, and flinching whenever somebody moved, did he choke down that awful potato. How many times after that did he wish he had that potato?

He had that memory on his mind when Chris touched his shoulder to get his attention and Vin put his arm up to block it. "Don't touch me." and he was surprised that it was only Chris. "You - y'startled me..." He tried to apologize. "I ain't hungry. I'll eat when I am - promise. Okay?"

"You need to keep your strength up." Nathan said.

"I said I ain't hungry!" If Vin'd had the voice, he'd be yelling.

Chris was worried and tired and about at the end of his nerves. Still, he tried to maintain his calm and reason with Vin. "Vin - just take a swallow, just a little bit. Don't gotta be much."

"I don't want it. Why can't y'all just leave me be? I drank that cupful before when I didn't want to. So just leave me be."

Chris was losing his control on his temper. "Vin - you're gonna take the soup, either on your own or I will feed it to you. Your choice."

"Who died and made you my Pa?" Vin demanded. And the look that crossed Chris' face was so murderous Vin actually shrank down into the pillow out of a real fear that he was about to be slugged. He wanted to say he was sorry but didn't know how. Nathan came between them, blocking their sight of each other.

"Allright, both of you. We ain't got time for this."

"I agree." A voice said and all three men turned to see Nettie in the doorway. "You boys -" She pointed to Nathan and Chris. "Out. Get some air, get some food, just get it somewhere else." She pulled off her coat and her gloves, setting them on the foot of the bed, not bothering and not needing to see if her order was being carried out. Nathan gently nudged Chris out the door and closed it behind them. Nettie brought the bowl of soup to the bed.

"Y'ain't gotta stay." Vin said, trying to sound fierce. Nettie was in no way impressed.

"Son, on your best day you couldn't stir me off a pin, now open up. You'll eat this soup."

Vin hesitated, scowling. "Well, I ain't gonna talk to you." He said.

"Good, because I'm in no humor to listen to you...open up." And Nettie fed him a few spoonfuls of the clear soup. It hurt to swallow but he had to admit, it tasted good. "Although I would like to know why you were gettin' so ornery with your friends when all they're trying to do is take care of you."

"...can take care of myself..."

Now it was Nettie's turn to scowl. "Well, there'd be a whole lot more weight behind those words if you could as much as hold a spoon on your own. Since y'cant, I reckon you'll take the help you need." And Vin didn't answer her.

She continued to feed him, as slow as he needed to be able to swallow, and as they got near the end, tears rolled down Vin's face. He closed his eyes and turned away and Nettie let him. She set the bowl aside and put a hand on his arm. "What is it Vin?" Her voice was close and gentle. "You can tell me honey. What's troublin' you?"

But he couldn't answer her and she sat on the bed and gathered him into her arms to hold him. He clung to her like he'd never done to anyone before, and he cried like he never had before. Nettie held him and felt the weight of the pain he'd carried too long.

"You go on ahead and cry son. Lord knows you need it."

Part Twenty-four

A thundercloud raged into the saloon on the shoulders of Chris Larabee, slamming chairs, shoving customers, demanding whiskey.

"Good Lord..." Ezra said. "...Buck - do you imagine..?" They shot out of their chairs, both instantly convinced that Vin was dead. They knew better than to approach Chris, they headed for the door and nearly ran into Nathan. The fact that he was there only reinforced their dread.

"Nathan - Vin - is he -" Buck couldn't get the words out.

"Mr. Jackson - please - please do not inform us that the worst has occurred and Mr. Tanner has - has -." Even Ezra was at a loss. "Nathan - please..."

But Nathan dispelled their worries as fast as he could. "No - Vin's holdin' on. Miss Nettie is there, done shooed us out." Buck and Ezra breathed out their relief.

"Thank the good Lord..." Ezra said.

"Amen Brother Standish." Buck agreed. "How is he though, Nathan? Vin - he awake? His fever worse?"

"Naah, same as he was when you were up there."

"Then what in the hell bit Chris? Way he come barrellin' in here, figured -" Buck still couldn't say the words.

Nathan chose to omit his part in the little scene that had just taken place. "Chris pushed once too often and Vin managed a pretty nasty response. Hardly had the breath to talk, but he did make his point."

They looked over to the table where Chris had flung himself, swigging whiskey, glowering at nothing in particular. All three of his friends chose the better part of valor and stayed away from him.

+ + + + + + +

Vin was back down in the pillows, turned onto his side, turned away from Nettie. She still sat on the bed, softly stroking his arm, waiting for him to say something, anything.

"Vin, honey, you have to talk to me. You have to talk to somebody. Whatever it is, it's eating you alive." But he stayed silent. His body shook occasionally, choking on unshed tears and they stayed that way for almost an hour, till it was nearly dark, and the sound of heavy footsteps up the stairs made them both look to the door.

"Don't let anybody in." Vin pleaded. He didn't want anyone to see that he'd been crying.

"Don't worry son. Nobody'll get past me." She went to the door and opened it just enough that Vin saw Josiah and he turned back away as fast as he could. Josiah saw Vin's face and knew not to say anything to him.

"Ma'am, sorry to disturb you." Josiah touched the brim of his hat. "Is Nathan here? I've brought the medicine."

"Over to the saloon I reckon. Sent him and Chris out for some air."

"Thank you ma'am. I'll have a look there." And with one more look toward Vin, he hurried back down the stairs to the street to find Nathan.

On the bed, Vin relaxed. Chris would come back with Nathan, and then Vin could apologize for what he'd said. All he had to do now was wait a few minutes, and Chris would come back. He closed his eyes. Nettie saw the change in Vin's body, and she thought the same thing he did. She sat on the bed beside him again, on the pretext of rearranging the blankets.

"You set quite a store by Mr. Larabee, don't you Vin?" Vin turned to look at her, surprised, but didn't say anything. "You're figurin' he'll come back with Nathan."

"I just - I gotta apologize for what I said."

"Plenty of time for you to apologize when you've got breath in your body."

"No - ain't got time to wait. Might - might..." His lifeless voice trailed off and he turned away. "This is how my Ma died. Maybe Nathan ain't callin' it the same, but it's how she died. Ain't got time to wait."

Nettie watched him silently. Seemed to her Vin's life was broken into three parts - the five years he spent with his Ma, the twenty-odd years after she died, and now, the time since he'd become one of Seven. Seemed to her the shortest spans of time in his life were the most important. Twenty-odd years of misery he'd be able to forget if only, right now, his best friend would walk through that door.

"Then honey, for your sake, I hope he does come."

+ + + + + + +

They heard the footsteps, coming up the stairs to the balcony and Vin listened without turning. Nathan came in, followed by Josiah...then they shut the door. They shut the door. Vin listened as hard as he could. They wanted the door shut so that he didn't get cold, that was all. Chris was just a little farther behind. He'd be coming in soon. He had to be coming soon.

"Vin?" Nathan touched his shoulder. "C'mon ‘n turn around. You've got to take this medicine."

Vin turned. "Ain't Chris comin'?" The only thing he cared about.

"He's just gettin' somethin' to eat." Nathan lied. "He'll be along directly." And Vin nodded, and took the dose of mercurius bin and laid his head down again to listen and to wait.

And Chris didn't come.

Part Twenty-five

JD made up his mind that he was going straight into that saloon and tell Chris that Miss Nettie said he'd better get his sorry hide back to Nathan's clinic pronto. Of course, she didn't use the word ‘hide'. But one glance through the swinging doors to the look on Chris' face, and JD thought better of it. So he made up his mind that he was going straight back to the clinic and tell Miss Nettie that Chris was in no mood to be talked to. But one thought of what Miss Nettie would say to that and JD thought better of it. So he made up his mind to go straight into that saloon and tell Chris -

"What's all the pacin' for JD? Stork ain't circlin, is he?" Buck asked, startling JD out of his thoughts.

"No..."

"Well, you been up and down this here porch nine times now son...somethin's going on."

JD took a quick look around, they were on the porch of the saloon, too close to Chris for JD's comfort. He pulled Buck as far as he could down the boardwalk and spilled his problem.

"Miss Nettie told me to come get Chris and bring him back to Nathan's right quick, only I don't think I can just go in there and tell Chris that without him gettin' all mad at me only I can't go back and tell Miss Nettie that I couldn't even talk to Chris much less bring him back with me - -"

"Hold on - hold on JD. First things first. Is Vin okay? She want Chris there ‘cause Vin's doin' poorly?"

"Naah - nothin' like that. I don't reckon anyway. I was sittin' out on the balcony, y'know, in case they needed anything. I could hear ‘em talkin' in there. Vin sounded sick, but still he was talkin'."

This gave Buck an idea. "You was there JD - what did Vin say to Chris that got him so riled? Did you hear what he said?"

"Yeah...." But JD wasn't comfortable repeating it, even to Buck.

"Well, y'gotta tell me..." When JD still hesitated, Buck bribed him. "You tell me what Vin said, and I'll go talk to Chris. You can tell Miss Nettie that I'm wearin' him down, that way won't neither of ‘em be mad at you."

This was something JD couldn't resist. "Well...they was trying to get Vin to take some more soup I heard. Chris and Nathan. Only he didn't want any and they was trying, not mean or anything. But then Chris said he'd make Vin drink it and Vin said ‘who died and made you my Pa?' Miss Nettie was there, she was in the doorway, that's how I heard what Vin said."

"Remind me not to get Vin riled at me." Buck said. "Allright, you go on back, tell Nettie I'm talkin' to Chris. I'll get him up there as soon as I can."

"All right."

+ + + + + + +

Vin stared unblinking at the far wall, and the flickering shadows cast by the lamplight. He wouldn't talk to Nettie, he wouldn't talk to Josiah. He didn't respond at all when Nathan touched him. He didn't even turn his head when the door opened. He knew it wasn't Chris. He knew Chris would never come back and he'd die all alone. Just like his Ma.

+ + + + + + +

JD looked around the door to motion to Nettie and she followed him out onto the balcony. He took his hat off and pushed the hair off his forehead.

"Well, is Mr. Larabee getting his sorry hide up here or not?" Of course, she didn't use the word ‘hide'.

"Buck's talkin' to him right now Ma'am. He said he'll get him up here soon as he can."

"He'd better. I don't aim to sit here and watch that boy wither away just because Chris has got his spurs in a knot."

+ + + + + + +

Buck took a deep breath, walked back into the saloon, and sat himself right down at Chris' table.

"What the hell do you want?" Chris demanded.

Steeling himself for what could be an ugly incident, Buck tried his best to be as cantankerous as Larabee. "I'll tell you what the hell I want Chris. I want to know what you're doing sittin' here, feelin' sorry-assed for yourself when your friend is lying down there at Nathan's, maybe dyin'."

"He ain't dying."

"Oh, you're so sure about that, are you?" Buck snapped, but the look that crossed Chris' face made him sorry he had. Chris looked the closest to despair Buck had seen him in a long time. "No Chris. He ain't." Buck said quietly. "I shouldn'ta said that. He's still holdin' on." And Chris sat back in his chair, relieved.

Still - "I ain't goin' up there." He told Buck.

"He didn't mean what he said Chris. You know that. He's sick, he's scared, and he's in pain."

"That ain't why..." Chris tossed down a shot glass of whiskey.

Buck waited, but nothing more came. "So - you gonna tell me why?" Chris was silent a while longer, but Buck recognized the look of memories being arranged and rearranged in his mind. He knew Chris was getting ready to open up.

"It ain't what he said Buck. I mean, yeah, it soured me. But that ain't why." He spoke softly, not because he thought other people might overhear, but because that's what he was feeling.

"Then why?"

"I just - started - thinking..." The words came out slowly. Chris looked like hell, hair falling into his eyes, he needed a shave, he needed more sleep than he'd gotten the past night or two. "...about Adam. I always think how he must've been waiting for me to come and save him." An anguished look crossed Buck's face and he looked down and away. "No - Buck - I don't mean to make you feel guilty and I sure the hell don't want you to. I'm just saying that Adam was used to me being there to make things all better and I think how he must've wondered why I wasn't there."

"So what does that have to do with Vin?" Buck asked. His voice was tight.

"I hate thinking that Vin kept waiting for his grandparents to be nice to him. He kept trying to figure out what he was doin' wrong and he kept trying to be better until one day it all just died inside of him and he stopped trying. And he stopped being a little kid. I hate thinking about that and I hate that there ain't nothin' I can do about it."

"Chris - Vin ain't expectin' you to do anything about his growin' up. He just wants you there now. He ain't asked you to make it all better, has he?"

"He wants to tell me what happened. At my room yesterday, he said he wanted me to help him figure out what he did so wrong that he got treated so bad. How can I do that? How can I sit there and listen to him tell me how they beat him and neglected him? When all it makes me want to do is go out and hurt the son of a bitch who hurt Vin and I can't because they're dead. I can't hear him tell me and see the look in his eyes, and not do anything about it."

"Chris-" Buck tried again, more firmly this time. "Vin don't expect you to do anything about it. He ain't asked you to do anything. All he wants right now is just for you to be in the same room with him while he don't feel good. What in thunder is so hard about that?"

"I can't do it Buck. I just can't do it." And Buck saw that Chris was telling the truth. Not only couldn't he do it, Chris was ashamed that he couldn't do it. He knew he was abandoning Vin, maybe to die, but he couldn't even sit with him.

"Allright Chris. I'll make sure nobody pesters you no more." Buck stood up, and with a backward tap on Chris' arm, walked out of the saloon.

+ + + + + + +

More footsteps coming up to the clinic that Vin knew weren't Chris. It was Buck this time judging from them. Vin felt the night air swirl into the room as the door opened, then no sound except Nettie heaving a sigh and walking out onto the balcony. And the door shut behind her.

"You know I am gettin' mighty tired of traipsin' out here just to have you boys tell me what you can't do." Nettie said.

"Ma'am, I have talked to Chris and he can't be here right now. He'd come if he could, but he can't. He knows he's hurtin' Vin, and he ain't doin' himself no favors either, but ma'am, right now, he can't."

"Hmmph. We'll just see about that." Nettie was about to move off when Will O'Brien came running up the stairs.

"Boy - what are you doin' out this time a' night?" Buck asked.

"Is Mr. Jackson here? Bart's real sick. My Ma sent me to fetch Mr. Jackson."

"Yeah - he's right inside, c'mon." Buck opened the door and Will shot into the room.

"Mr. Jackson - can you come quick? Please? Bart's real sick and my Ma, she sent me to..."

"Bart?" Vin turned over. "Is Bart okay?"

Will was startled to see Vin looking so sick. He'd found him asleep at the campsite just this morning. "He got lost again this morning, we got him home and then later he said his throat hurt and he couldn't breathe..." Will divided his remarks between Nathan and Vin. "Ma just sent me to get you, ask if you could come right quick."

"Nathan - go on." Vin wondered why Nathan wasn't moving. "Please - go help him. Please Nathan."

"I'm goin' Vin. Will, just give me minute to get my things together..."

"Nathan -" Vin pulled himself up to sitting, or tried to. "Please - go help him."

Josiah went to Vin. "Lay back down, Vin. Nathan's goin'. You know he won't let that boy down." Vin let Josiah gently ease him back down, but he was still distressed.

"Go with him Josiah. Y'gotta make sure he's okay. Please Josiah..." Vin had it set in his mind that Bart was being ignored or neglected or mistreated or something. Even as nice as the O'Brien's were to their ‘chickens', Vin couldn't help thinking that Bart would be sick and alone and miserable... that's what always happened. That's what always happened to him. "Josiah, please."

"Allright Vin. I'll go...Nathan, you don't mind company do you?"

"Naah, welcome it." Nathan said, especially when he saw how it comforted Vin. "Come on Will...Miss Nettie, you'll stay with him?"

"No, Buck can stay. I aim to go have a chat with Mr. Larabee."

Part Twenty-six

Buck was caught in the worst dilemma he remembered being in. Nathan was giving him instructions to take care of Vin as he headed to the livery and Buck wanted to make sure he got them straight. But Nettie was on a sure path to disaster heading to the saloon and Chris, and Buck wanted to stop her and explain before the two of them collided. And JD was gone to the jail, so Vin was right now alone in the clinic.

I got it Nathan - one dose every two hours... Vin -" he called over his shoulder, hoping his voice carried. "I'll be right back." And he ran down the stairs after Nettie and did what was customarily unthinkable to him: grabbed her by the shoulder to stop her. She turned an icy and threatening gaze on him.

"Son, you better have a real good reason for doing that."

"Yes, Ma'am. I am sorry Ma'am. But I got to explain. I gotta ask you not to go talk to Chris. He ain't not comin' just to be cross, Miss Nettie. You know, he's got a lot of pain goin' on inside of him too, and just ‘cause he ain't got them sad puppy eyes that Vin does, don't mean he don't need lookin' after just the same." He saw that his words were have at least a little effect on her. "Now, Chris done told me why he can't be up there with Vin right now, and I understand. But I knowed Chris a long time too Ma'am, and I can tell he's gearin' himself up to be there. He's got a lot of grief of his own to overcome to get there though. And I told Chris I'd keep people from pestering him." Nettie raised an eyebrow at this and Buck steeled himself again for what might be an ugly incident. When he spoke again, his voice was firm.

"Miss Nettie, I know you're a lady, and I admire and respect you. But Chris is my friend, and has been for a long time, and it's my job to look out for him. I told him he wouldn't be bothered and by God he won't, no matter what I have to do. Now we got ourselves a choice here, either stand here in a stalemate over Chris or get back to takin' care of Vin who is alone at this very moment, and who knows what kind of trouble that boy can get into, even half dead."

Nettie considered Buck a long moment. The shadows from the street fire made it harder for Buck to read her face. "Mr. Wilmington, I ain't in the habit a' bein' spoke to that way."

"Well Ma'am, I ain't in the habit of speakin' that way neither."

"Is Mr. Larabee aware of what lengths you go to protect him?"

"I don't think so Ma'am, and I wouldn't want him to know. He ain't the kind of man would take it agreeable."

"Yes, I guess you're right..." Nettie took another minute to consider. "All right - for now. But that boy needs him something fierce, though Lord knows why..." She relaxed and patted Buck's arm. "You go on back to Vin. I'll get him some more soup..." She saw the misgivings in Buck's face. "I promise, I won't go near Chris. You have my word."

"Thank you Miss Nettie."

+ + + + + + +

When Buck got back to the clinic, he found Vin sitting up at the edge of the bed clutching a blanket around himself. His head was down and Buck would've thought he was asleep until he lifted his head to look at him. "Vin, what d'you think you're doing?"

It took Vin a moment and some breath to answer. "Man's gotta take advantage of privacy when he can..." His voice was still weak and raspy, but he smiled. Buck smiled back at him.

"Allright Pard, if you're all set, let me get you back down..."

"Buck - ?"

"What?" Buck was afraid Vin was going to ask about Chris.

"...'long as Nathan ain't here, y'think I could sit near the stove a spell? Awful cold, ‘n my back hurts real bad. Just like to change posts for a spell."

Buck wasn't sure about saying yes, then he figured as soon as JD got back, he'd tell him to keep a watch out for Nathan so's he could get Vin back in bed before either of them got caught. "Sure, let me just get it set for you. Keep that blanket around you now." He moved the chair to the stove and spread a blanket over it. Then he helped Vin stand up and walk the few paces to the chair, and when he was settled, he bundled another blanket across his lap and under his feet.

"While I got the chance, think I'll change the beddin'. Always feels nicer when you're sick to have fresh beddin'."

"Thanks Buck."

"Maybe while we're at it, we'll getcha fresh longjohns." Buck said as he began to strip the bed.

"Ain't got but the one pair." Vin told him and this stopped Buck cold.

"All them shirts and bandannas y'got - and you ain't got but one pair of longjohns?"

Vin shrugged. "Don't nobody see ‘em...usually..."

Buck sighed and continued with his work. "Well, we'll see if we can scare you up another pair anyhow."

"...'kay."

+ + + + + + +

As soon as they got to the O'Brien's, Will jumped down from the back of Josiah's horse and ran into the house. "Ma - they're come! Mr. Jackson and Mr. Sanchez!" She was outside in an instant. Even at this late hour, a passel of children followed her.

Thank the Lord and you two boys..." She greeted them. "Will, Dan, take their horses...Bart poor boy, seemed all right this morning. Got himself lost again, he does pritnear every day. Goes lookin' for his folks...Abby, put the kettle on for tea...don't know what we can do short a' tyin' him down..." She led them into the cabin. "Then about supper time he said his throat hurt. Didn't seem to hurt that bad or I woulda sent for you sooner." She was trying to sound calm, but her worry showed in her face. "He's yonder."

Neither Josiah nor Nathan expected poor Bart to be in the neglected, mistreated state that Vin so feared, but they also didn't expect to find him the way they did. Mrs. O'Brien showed them over to the kitchen and there sat Mr. O'Brien in a worn rocking chair, with Bart snug in his arms, one hand gripping the front of his Pa's shirt and sucking the fingers on his other hand, firmly asleep. He was flushed and feverish, but appeared surprisingly content to be where he was.

"Miz O'Brien, you mind? I might hafta wake him up to check him."

"Oh no Mr. Jackson, whatever you need to do. You just make sure our boy's all right."

"Yes Ma'am." As Nathan set about his task, Mrs. O'Brien proceeded to make tea for them.

"It was right nice of you Mr. Sanchez to come outta your way to check on us." She said as she got cups down off the shelf.

"Well, I will be honest with you Ma'am, Vin asked me to come check on Bart. He's feelin' mighty poorly himself right now and...well...he took it into his head..." But he wasn't sure how to say it without sounding insulting.

"That we might be harmin' that boy." She said it without resentment.

"That'd be about it."

She sighed. "I been wonderin' what it was I saw on his face whenever it looked like he was somewhere's else. I'm gatherin' he had a rough turn, growin' up?"

"Yes Ma'am, he did. Orphaned, ‘bout the same age as Bart there. Got taken in by grandparents who mistreated him. Vin ain't had an easy life by anyone's measure."

"How poorly is he?" She asked, pausing as she set a plate of biscuits on the table. "Will told me he found him this mornin' sittin' out by a cold campfire. Out when we was all lookin' for Bart."

"He's poorly...Nathan said quinsy."

"My word...and he really thought we'd be mistreatin' Bart same as he was..." Mrs. O'Brien shook her head. It wasn't a question that needed an answer. "You think he'd mind if I paid him a visit? Set his mind at ease?"

"I think that'd be right nice of you."

Across the table from them, Nathan did his best to assess Bart without waking him up, but finally the boy did wake up. He whimpered and turned away from Nathan. "Pa - Pa -" He clung to his father, weakly protesting and frightened till Mr. O'Brien shushed him.

"It's okay Bart. Your Pa's here, I'm right here..." And Bart looked up at him, staring a moment, then he nodded and curled himself into his father's arms again and went back to sleep.

Part Twenty-seven

Vin watched Buck in the flickering lamplight as he made up the bed with fresh sheets and blankets. Vin never felt as easy around Buck as he did Chris. Hell, he never felt as easy around anybody as he did Chris. He wasn't sure about anybody else, but Chris he knew, you tell him something in confidence, he'd take it to his grave. He was the only one Vin trusted to tell his past to. He was the one it mattered the most to Vin that he understand.

Still, Buck was a good man. He was here now when no law said he had to be, humming to himself as he made sure the blankets were straightened just so. After Ezra, Vin figured Buck was the fussiest of them all. ‘Course, that was mostly because of the ladies. But he was usually shined up pretty nice. Vin looked down at himself. He figured he was the worst of them all. Didn't reckon any lady would want to get near him, clean or dirty. Not any real lady.

Well, there was Nettie, but she weren't no lady, she was just Nettie. And Casey - well, there was times she was even dirtier than he was. There was Mrs. Potter, but he was a paying customer and she probably was just being polite. And Mary, but she was probably just being nice ‘cause he was a friend of Chris.

The last thought hit a fresh wound in Vin. "Guess I ain't his friend no more." he said to himself.

"Did you say something?" Buck asked. He was crouched down at a cupboard, looking for pillow cases. He turned back to Vin.

Vin was just going to shake his head, but Buck looked worried and Vin realized with a surprise that Buck was worried about him. "Could I have some water?"

"Sure...here you go..." He brought the cup over to Vin. "Ain't even none a' that ditch water neither..."

"Thanks..." Vin's hands shook as he drank it down.

"How you feeling? You ain't soundin' any better." The concern in his voice moved Vin and he dropped his head and drank more water to not have Buck see his face. "You gettin' warmed up enough?"

"Yeah..."

"You ready to lay back down here? Couldn't find no pillow cases, but everythin' else is fresh."

"He ain't comin', is he?" The sudden question startled both of them. Buck set himself slowly and deliberately into the opposite chair, buying himself as much time as he could.

"Not right now Vin." Buck rested his arms on his knees, leaning toward Vin who still wouldn't meet his eyes. "He's hurtin' - not from what you said." He added quickly when Vin winced. "Vin..." Buck reached out to put his hand on Vin's arm, making the contact that Vin was trying to avoid. "I didn't figure I had to say this to you, I figured you'd just know it...there's anything in you needs tellin' Vin, you can tell me. I know I ain't as smart as Josiah, and I ain't got no medicine like Nathan...but I can listen." Vin didn't answer and Buck sat back in his chair, breaking the contact.

"You and Chris are a lot alike, y'know that?" He kept his voice quiet. "You both keep something locked inside of you, and you hammer away at it, all red hot and angry, like you're trying to shape it into something else. Only what you got inside a' you ain't malleable like that. And you come to find out all you been doin' is pounding on yourself..."

Then Buck waited. Nathan and Josiah could carry on remarkable conversations about complex subjects, physical or spiritual, for any length of time. Ezra's mind was sharp as lightning and twice as fast. Buck and JD could both talk at the same time, or talk over anybody they had to. And Vin and Chris were alike. Both smart, sure enough. But they not only needed silence to talk in, sometimes they needed the silence to gather their thoughts to where they needed them to be.

So Buck waited.

Many things turned over in Vin's mind. The sudden, near possibility that he could talk to Buck. A mountain of pain that he could unburden into Buck's willing hands and maybe then he'd feel better. Then another, distracting thought spoke up.

"He told you." Vin's weak voice was accusing. He looked Buck straight in the eye.

"Who told me what?" This wasn't what Buck had been waiting for.

"Chris - he told you what I said - about - about - how I was raised up."

"Yeah, he told me." And Buck sensed that Vin was retreating behind an invisible wall.

"Didn't mean for him to tell you. Didn't want him to."

"He's worried about you Vin..." Buck didn't really know what to say to him. "Truth be told, I could see how worried he was about you and I made him tell me what was goin' on."

"What all did he tell you?" Vin asked, still accusing. "He tell you everything?"

"I don't know." Buck said. "I suppose, maybe he did. You know, he ain't your only friend..."

Vin had the sudden, odd notion of going to the O'Brien's to ‘save' Bart, take him up into the mountains where they'd both be free, and safe from the hurt and the loneliness, and the people who didn't understand. The feeling tugged hard at him, even though he knew it was foolish.

"You reckon they're takin' care a' Bart all right?" His voice was calmer.

"You know Miz O'Brien dotes on them young ‘uns. And Nathan and Josiah are out there right now, making sure..." Buck wondered what turn this conversation was going to take next. He decided to steer it. "There's no way that boy'll have as hard a time as you did Vin. And you ain't gonna ever have that hard a time again neither."

Vin still had the cup in his hand. He finished the last of the water just for something to do, then he set it on the floor and pulled the blanket tight around his shoulders. And Buck waited.

"He tell you everything?" Vin asked again. His voice was quiet, asking what Buck knew. Asking what he all could know and still be sitting here with Vin.

"Well Vin, he ain't told me what you ain't told him...he told me your Grandpa beat you, and your Grandma hurt your hands. He told me it seems like it's botherin' you that the O'Brien's took in all them little kids when all you got was misery." Buck deliberately left some out.

"Just don't seem fair sometimes Buck, the life I got..."

"Hell Vin, it ain't fair. Won't never be fair how you was treated when you was a tyke. You got the right to hate what happened to you, and you got the right hate the ones that did it."

"It ain't that I wish them kids misery...I just wish I'da had more'n five years of bein' happy." Talking was wearing Vin out. He tried to decide if he wanted to lay down again. "And I can't even remember most of those years anyway..."

Buck was about to tell Vin that he had the whole rest of his life to be happy, then he remembered that the whole rest of Vin's life might just be long enough to die of quinsy. "You been happy since you fell in with us, ain't you?" He asked instead. "We all been like family to each other...least ways, that's how I feel."

Vin sorely wanted to list each and every time that he'd felt welcome and happy with the Seven. He kept each incident tucked away in his memory to be taken out and gone over again and again, mostly to relive them, sometimes just because he still couldn't believe it. But his throat was sore and he was rapidly losing strength. "I been happy." Was all he could manage. Still, he wanted to say something without coming right out and saying it.

"JD's real lucky he found you, y'know that? Kid like him, this territory woulda chewed him up and spit him out. As tough as he makes out to be, wouldna been long he'd been runnin' back home, all outta money and self respect. He didn't find you, he woulda had a harder life than I ever did...kid like him...he's lucky..."

"Well, least ways he probably wouldn't still have that hat..." Buck tried to lighten the talk, but it struck him deep. Vin was probably right and it had never really occurred to Buck before. He got a sudden, jarring vision of what JD's life would've been like, alone and green.

"Once I lit out from home, when I'm a kid..." Vin went on. "I told myself, no matter what, I wouldn't let nobody hurt me again. Sometimes it took all I had..." He looked into Buck's face again, wanting to see his reaction. "...and sometimes that weren't enough."

Buck kept his eyes steady on his friend. "No shame in survivin', Vin." He said. The vision of JD loomed larger in his mind. Where was the kid now? "You just hold onto what you do have now. You got us now. You got family now, and no matter what, you know we stand with you."

"Even Chris?" Vin had to ask and Buck nodded firmly.

"Even Chris."

"He ain't here."

"That's ‘cause he's got somethin' to work over in his mind and he knows you're in good hands. But if he thought there was trouble you had to face down, he'd be here like a shot." Buck said, but his mind was looking somewhere else. JD went to the jail, right? He hadn't come back yet?

There was a tap on the door and Ezra came in. He smiled when he saw Vin. "Why Mr. Tanner, how reassuring to see you upright, if barely."

"Hey Ez'." Vin was actually happy to see him, as happy as he could be as tired as he was.

"Surely Mr. Wilmington isn't boring you with one or another of his many fabricated tales of adventure with the fairer sex? No wonder you look so tired..."

"Ezra, was JD outside?" Buck asked.

"No, I didn't see him."

"Would you mind sittin' with Vin for a spell. I just want to find out where he got to...bed's all set whenever you're ready to lay down again Vin."

"Thanks Buck..." Vin meant for more than the bed and Buck knew it. As he stood up, he lightly squeezed Vin's shoulder.

"You just hold on."

+ + + + + + +

JD woke up slowly and confused. He'd come to the jail to get one of his novels and a lamp to read it by while he sat outside Nathan's. He remembered that. He remembered sitting down at the desk for a minute and thinking he was tired. The next thing he knew, he was waking up with his head on his arms on the desk. He stood up and stretched. Well, anyway he felt better for sleeping a bit. He looked around to find his book and head back to the clinic.

He was surprised when the door opened and Buck came in. He was even more surprised when Buck didn't say anything, just walked right up to him and grabbed him in a bear hug. He hugged JD hard and patted him a couple of times on the back then held him out at arm's length like he wanted to take a good hard look at him. JD was too astonished to say anything. Then, as if he was satisfied with what he saw, Buck released him and walked out of the jail again.

JD stood there a long time, wondering what the hell was going on.

Part Twenty-eight

Josiah brought Mrs. O'Brien back to town. As they walked up the stairs to the clinic, they were treated to the sound of laughter coming from inside the room and they exchanged puzzled looks. When they went in, they discovered what was going on. Vin was back in bed, sitting up against the pillows, with the blanket still around his shoulders. Ezra had the lamp close to the wall and was attempting to make shadow puppets in the likeness of their friends. He had his pinky finger up, with a knot of bandage poised on the tip.

"And this is JD!"

Vin laughed, a rough sound that hurt to hear, and he pressed his hand against his throat for the pain. "Stop - stop it Ezra. It hurts!" But he was having a good time. He didn't even notice Mrs. O'Brien at first. When he saw her though, nothing else mattered.

"Is Bart okay? Did Nathan take care of him? Josiah?"

"He's fine honey." Mrs. O'Brien hurried to reassure him. "He's ailin', same as you but Mr. Jackson is takin' real good care of him, and he's at home right now. Sleepin' on his Pa's lap...now - how are you? Seems like you shoulda been takin' better care a' yourself."

"Sore throat's all...I'll be fine."

"Un hunh." She tossed off her wrap and sat on the bed to feel Vin's face and hands. "You're burnin' up honey."

"Naah - I was just sitting too close to the stove..." He didn't want her to worry. "You didn't have to come in just to tell me about Bart. Josiah coulda done that."

"After all you done for us child - I came to find out about you...you gettin' enough to eat?"

"Yes ma'am..."

"They keepin' an eye for drafts?"

"Yes ma'am..."

As Mrs. O'Brien ran down her inventory how to stay healthy, Josiah motioned Ezra out onto the balcony with him, and they shut the door behind.

"Chris ain't come yet?" Josiah asked.

"Not yet, he has been otherwise occupied at the saloon..."

Josiah sighed. "And I thought we were having a hard time gettin' Vin to open up... Wasn't Nettie dead set on draggin' his sorry hide back here?" Of course, he didn't use the word ‘hide'.

"Yes, well - I believe Mr. Wilmington intercepted her on her blighted path to destruction...for the time being anyway. I don't expect that Mrs. Wells will long be kept from her charge."

"And just what were you doing with Vin in there Ezra? What d'you think Nathan would say?"

"I was attempting to divert Mr. Tanner's attention from as much pain as I possibly could. Physical and otherwise. He is most disconsolate that Mr. Larabee is determined to stay away, and since I have nothing medicinal at my disposal, I decided to work with what I had - literally - at hand. It seemed to be working...for the moment anyway."

"Hey..." JD came up the stairs behind them. "Is Vin okay? He didn't die or anything, did he?"

"Nope, he's still alive." Josiah told him. He and Ezra were both puzzled by the question. "Just left him in there talkin' with Mrs. O'Brien."

"Oh - the way Buck was acting, I figured Vin must've up and died."

"And just how is Mr. Wilmington comporting himself that it would lead you to believe Mr. Tanner had expired?" Ezra asked. JD gave them a look of disbelief.

"He hugged me." He said, obviously astonished.

"He hugged you..." Josiah repeated.

"Yeah, didn't even say a word. I was at the jail and he just comes right in, hugs me like he thought he'd never see me again. I just thought for sure somethin' terrible had happened the way he done that."

+ + + + + + +

Buck didn't know what else to do. It was late and all the respectable businesses in town were closed up for the night, except the paper. He could see a lamp burning through the window and he went there, tapping softly on the door. Mary was surprised to see him.

"Buck - what is it? Is it Vin?"

"No, Mary. He's holdin' on. I just wondered -" Now that he was here, it sounded silly. "You wouldn't by chance have a couple pillow cases, would you?"

"Pillow cases?"

"Yeah - I was changin' the sheets ‘n such for Vin up there, but I couldn't find no clean pillow cases. I was just wonderin'..."

"Of course, come in Buck. I'll get them for you." She smiled to think that he'd care about such a little detail.

"They don't have to be fancy or nothin' Mary." Buck told her as he shut the door behind himself and followed her through the back to her home. "Just clean...Vin ain't gonna be looking at ‘em no how." Buck stopped short and had the urge to turn and run when he saw Miss Nettie in Mary's parlor. He remembered himself enough to remove his hat and greet her.

"Who's with Vin?" was all she cared about.

"Ezra is...now don't worry." He hastened to reassure her when she gave him a scowl. "Ezra is actually pretty good at takin' care of Vin. And I'm on my way back there now, soon's I get some pillow cases..."

"And Mr. Larabee?" she asked. Buck wished he'd followed his first inclination to run.

"Not yet Ma'am."

"Hmmpf. We'll see about that." She started for the door and when Buck opened his mouth to speak she turned on him, stabbing her finger at him. "Not one word. You hear me? Larabee may be hurtin' - he ain't dyin'. Vin very well might be." She called to Mary that she was goin' and could she bring the soup on up herself. With a final warning glower at Buck, she left.

+ + + + + + +

Chris twirled the empty shot glass on the table. He was missing something, he could feel it. There was a part to his pain that wouldn't come into focus and he knew that if he could get it to focus, he'd have his answer. So he ran it over in his mind again. Like combing tangles out of his horse's tail, he worked through each strand, trying to make it all lay flat.

He thought of Vin as a child, a ‘tyke' Buck called him, trying so hard to understand why all he got was hurt when he was trying so hard to be good. Waiting for his grandparents to be nice to him, wondering what more he could do...

It was then that it hit Chris and he cursed himself for a fool. "I'm doin' the same damn thing to him. He's up at Nathan's waitin' for me to come back, wonderin' why I ain't. Damn." He pushed the shot glass away from himself and was about to stand up when Nettie came through the doors into the saloon.

+ + + + + + +

Buck took a long way around the saloon to avoid all chance of being dragged into the storm he knew was going to break in there. He carried two clean pillow cases and one of Mary's husband's nightshirts that it had almost broken her heart to part with. From looking at it, Buck knew Vin would be swamped in it, but it was clean and that was all that mattered.

He found a crowd in the little room with Vin - Mrs. O'Brien sitting on the bed, clucking over her newest ‘chicken', Josiah picking up the discarded sheets and blankets to take to the laundress, Ezra building up the fire in the stove, and JD watching, waiting to be helpful if possible. As it was, JD was the one who noticed the expectant look on Vin's face when the door opened. Saw it disappear when only Buck came in and not Chris.

"Howdy boys, Miz O'Brien." Buck greeted them. "Vin - I got you a couple nice pillow cases and a nightshirt..." He didn't mention where he'd gotten them. "We can have you all nice and snug in a shake, soon's you're ready."

"Is Nettie comin' back?" Vin asked. If he couldn't have one, he'd take the other.

"Uhhh- uhhh..." What was he going to say? What the hell was Buck going to say to Vin? He didn't want to tell him the truth, he also didn't want Vin to think he'd been abandoned by Nettie too. He tried something that was almost the truth. "Uhhh - she's gone to have a talk with Chris..." He said it lightly, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, and not a timed charge about to go off. "C'mon..." Buck tried to hurry past that little chunk of anxiety. "Let's see if we can't get you outta those longjohns and into this night shirt."

Vin didn't know what to feel. He knew Nettie would do more than ‘talk'. He didn't want Chris here if he had to be dragged. He didn't want Nettie here if she was in a temper about Chris not being here. All Vin was wanted was Chris to sit with him. He knew it was foolish to feel so alone in a room full of people, when any one of them would do anything for him. Stupid to wait for a friend who wasn't coming.

"I'm fine, don't want it." His voice was a whisper.

"Honey, you should swap them small clothes for somethin' clean." Mrs. O'Brien urged him. "Won't take but a minute - you'll feel a tuck better."

"Don't want it." A sharper edge to the whisper this time, uttered through clenched teeth. Vin was feeling crowded now with all these people around. "I'm fine." Crowded and trapped. "Y'all just leave me be?"

Mrs. O'Brien had enough children - and enough sense - to recognize the signs of a looming rage. "That's fine then honey. I expect you're plum wore out and here we are, pestering the daylights out of you. It's late and you should be asleep..." She smiled at him, gathered her wrap and stood up. "I'll check back on you honey. Let you know how Bart is coming along."

"Okay, Mrs. O'Brien. I ‘preciate you comin' out." Vin was holding - just barely - onto his patience.

"You're welcome honey..." She turned to the other men in the room. "Well, c'mon y'all. He can't sleep if you're in here makin' a racket. Everybody out." None of them took even a step. "Well? He ain't goin' nowhere. You're lookin' at him like he'll turn to a tadpole if he was to be left alone even a minute. Child needs his rest..." She finally managed to shoo them out, Buck turning back once to Vin.

"Won't be far, Vin. Holler if you need anything."

"...'kay." Just go.

When the door was shut, Mrs. O'Brien asked: "What's the prospect a' gettin' Mr. Larabee up here? Can't always reckon why sick folk wants what they wants but it does seem to make a thunder of difference to ‘em."

"I can get him here." JD said, and four pairs of eyes turned on him in disbelief. "I can. I bet you I can." He said when their disbelief didn't diminish.

"How?" Ezra asked.

"Never mind how, I just know I can."

"You sure?" Josiah asked. He couldn't begin to imagine what JD had in mind.

"Bet me?"

"JD -" Buck's tone was serious. "Are you SURE?"

The kid put his hat on and straightened his jacket. "Buck - I am SO sure, that I recommend you keep that door open or Chris is liable to bust it right off it's hinges." He grinned at what he had in mind.

"Well, this will be a prodigy I simply must witness." Ezra declared.

"I for one don't want to watch you get your head served back to you on a plate JD." Josiah told him. "Mrs. O'Brien, may I escort you home?"

"Thank you Mr. Sanchez, but not right now. I got to see this."

+ + + + + + +

The saloon could've been on fire and Chris Larabee would not have stirred from it just because Nettie was telling him he had to. They stared hard and resolute at each other, Chris not leaving, and Nettie not leaving without him.

"Mr. Larabee, I can't believe you'd leave that boy up there all alone, while you sit here tryin' to drown your troubles."

"Miz Wells, he ain't a ‘boy' and he ain't alone." Chris said, barely keeping his tone civil. "I ain't his Pa, I ain't his brother..."

"You don't have to be." Nettie's tone matched his. "I seen the two of you together. I seen you with all these men, Mr. Larabee. Maybe you got no piece of paper says you're kin, but you're kin just the same. And sittin' here tellin' yourself different won't make any difference if he ends up planted out there next to his Ma's stone, will it?"

"And my sittin' up there with him ain't gonna keep it from happenin'."

"That's hogwash and you know it. Sometimes the only thing keeps a person going is knowing there's one person who cares."

"He's got five."

"He wants you. Lord knows why, the boy must be delirious..."

+ + + + + + +

JD, Ezra and Mrs. O'Brien approached the saloon. "Allright, Mr. Dunn. I am most anxious to see you work this miracle."

"What're you plannin' honey?" Mrs. O'Brien sounded a little worried, more so because JD didn't seem worried at all.

"Just watch. I'd stand back if I was you, but watch."

+ + + + + + +

Chris was a hair away from really losing his temper and spouting off a string of words at Nettie that he knew he'd regret the rest of his life. But he'd never been a man to be bossed and, by God, she was bossing him.

"Nettie, seems to me it'd be a sight better if you'd just go back and take care of Vin..." He was about to add ‘since you seem to know so much' but he was stopped in mid breath by a commotion at the swinging doors.

JD came rushing in, tripping over himself, dropping his hat, trying to say three things at once. "Chris! Vin - back at the clinic. Buck was trying - only Vin said no - but Buck said he had to and Vin was saying just leave me be and he was getting scared that he didn't want to and -"

And JD was talking to an empty chair.

Ezra and Mrs. O'Brien came into the saloon and joined Nettie in staring dumbfounded at JD, who only smiled, feeling pretty self-satisfied. Mrs. O'Brien finally spoke: "Honey, you want to come home with me and see if you can get my Mary to eat her beets?"

Part Twenty-nine

As Ezra and Mrs. O'Brien followed JD to the saloon, and Josiah carried away the bed linens, Buck took a deep breath that sounded like a sigh, and stood a moment before he went back in to Vin. It was late and he was tired, but he still had to get Vin into that nightshirt, change the pillow cases and check the time for when he had to spoon out a dose of the medicine. Not that he minded taking care of Vin - poor kid was feeling so sick. He just knew Vin would feel better if Chris or Nettie were here, and Buck didn't know how to make that happen any faster.

Still, as he went into the clinic, he left the door open a crack, in case JD had a miracle up his sleeve after all. He found Vin pulling himself up on the bed post. "Allright Vin..." Buck did his best Larabee imitation. "Sit yourself back down ‘fore I do it."

"Where's Chris?" Vin asked, without sitting down.

"Vin - he'll be here. He's just -"

"No, I only mean, where's he at? He at the saloon?"

"Reckon, that's where I left him...c'mon, sit down." Buck got Vin sitting on the edge of the bed, and pulled the blanket down from around his shoulders. "Allright Pard, let's get this nightshirt on you." There was a weariness in Buck's voice and Vin didn't argue. Mindful of the partially open door, the nightshirt was advanced a step or two ahead of taking off the longjohns.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Tell Chris I'm sorry..."

Buck looked up from the buttons he was doing wrong on the cuffs as he helped Vin put his arms in the sleeves. "Vin - that ain't -"

"Tell him I didn't mean it...tell him I'd take it back if I could." Vin was so serious, and so sure that was the only thing keeping Larabee away. Buck stopped what he was doing to put his hands on Vin's shoulders.

"I know what y'said to him Vin, and that ain't why Chris ain't here. Don't blame yourself for the trouble's been hounding him since before you met him." And Vin stared at him, trying to judge what Buck was saying.

"Then why ain't he here?"

It was a long minute before Buck figured out a way to say it. He went back to pulling on the nightshirt as he spoke. "When y'tell Chris what happened to you, when you was a kid - well, it makes him real angry - - not at you..." He rushed to say. "Not at you. He gets angry at your kin that hurt you. And you know Chris, you know how his mind works... ‘recognize bad guy' ‘chase bad guy' ‘catch bad guy' ‘beat the crap out of bad guy'..." Buck was relieved when a worn smile graced Vin's face. "Only there ain't no bad guy anymore. They's dead. So he's got all this anger inside of him and no bad guy to beat the crap outta... It's just takin' him a spell to figure out that anger ain't what you want. Soon's he figures that out, he'll be here I promise. I known Chris a long time..."

Vin accepted what Buck said, and watched quietly, trying to help where he could, getting out of his longjohns.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"I think nightshirts are sissy."

"Ha! I'm with you there, Pard..."

+ + + + + + +

Chris still had in mind that string of bad words he hadn't been able to use on Nettie as he stormed to the clinic to choke the daylights out of Buck. What the hell did he think he was doing? Chris demanded silently as he took the clinic stairs two at a time. What the hell did Buck think he was doing?

He slammed the door open. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he barked. Vin was on the edge of the bed still, with his hands on Buck's shoulders to steady himself as Buck untangled his longjohns around his feet, out from under the nightshirt. And it was then, when Chris saw the grin that Buck couldn't stop, that Chris knew he'd been had.

"Well I'm just about the change the pillow cases if you'd give me a hand keeping the kid upright." Buck couldn't keep the smile out of his voice either. Vin stared at Chris, until he realized he was doing it and looked down.

"I ain't no kid." He mumbled and tucked his hands under his arms. Chris was mad, he didn't want him here if he was mad.

So they stayed that way a moment, Buck with a hand on Vin to keep him steady, Vin pulling away inside of himself, and Chris, grudgingly admitting to himself that everything Nettie had said was right. He closed the door softly and sat on the bed to put his arm around Vin.

"I got him." He said. Vin was surprised but didn't look up. Buck took away the pillows and helped Chris get the blanket back around Vin's shoulders. "How're you doin' Vin?" Vin could smell the whiskey. Chris wasn't drunk, but he'd been troubled enough to head that way.

"I won't tell you no more." Vin said, head and hands still tucked down and away.

"Y'ain't told me nothing yet." Chris said, not understanding.

"About when I'm a kid...don't have to worry. Won't tell you no more."

Buck became very involved in changing the pillow cases.

"I want you to tell me Vin. I want you to tell me - - anything you want to tell me."

"...just make you mad..."

Chris drilled Buck with his eyes for telling Vin that. "Yeah, it makes me mad. Somebody should get mad for what was done to you Vin."

"I just wanted to tell you. Didn't want you to do nothin'...'cept..." He didn't finish.

"Except what?" Chris finally asked.

"Help me understand what I did wrong." Now he looked up at Chris. "What'd I do so wrong I got to be treated that way?"

"You didn't do nothin' wrong." Chris insisted; even Buck looked up from his prolonged task, ready to add his agreement to Chris. But Vin only shook his head and looked down again. Buck set the pillows back in place. "Y'ready to lay back down?" Chris asked.

"Can I sit awhile? Back feels better, ‘n it's easier to breathe..."

"Sure..." Chris held on a little tighter and felt Vin lean into the support. Buck was smiling at Chris again, a tired smile but with a twinkle in his eye. He bundled the old pillow cases and longjohns in his hands and headed for the door.

"I'll be back Chris. I gotta go find JD. I'm expectin' he's got a whopper of a tale to tell!"

Part Thirty

Vin stayed leaning against Chris. He didn't know how long. He thought he should lay down, or lean against the bed frame, or sit by himself if nothing else. But he didn't want to. He was tired, he was in pain, and this was the longest anybody had ever kept a hand on him that wasn't restraining him. They didn't talk; Chris really thought Vin was asleep. His head was down and his eyes were closed, arms crossed to keep the blanket close. Chris noticed one thing that made him smile - Vin had one bare foot tucked on top of the other, toes curled against the cold floor.

Footsteps sounded up the stairs and Mary came in the door. She carried a basket over one arm - food by the wonderful smell of it. She smiled when she saw them, the rough, ill-mannered, taciturn gunman, gently supporting the equally taciturn, equally rough tracker. Her eyes started to tear as she saw the hem of her husband's nightshirt hanging below the edges of the blanket but she blinked them away and set the basket on the table.

"I'm sorry - I took longer than I intended. I had bread baking, I wanted to wait till it was done."

"I don't think Vin can eat bread..." Chris said and Mary smiled more.

"I brought soup for Vin - the rest is for you."

"Buck told you I was here." Hand it to Buck to keep an eye out for him

"I knew you'd be here, Chris." She took the food out of the basket. "I kept trying to tell Nettie that you wouldn't stay away very long...I knew you'd be here."

Chris didn't know what to think about that. That Mary knew him that well. She was a pretty woman, if a bit spindly. And Lord knew, she had spine. Just as he was about to ask how she thought she knew him so well, Mary asked:

"How is he?" indicating Vin.

"He's been quiet. I forgot how heavy kids get when they sleep."

A muffled, petulant voice insisted "I ain't no kid."

"No, I guess you ain't." Chris agreed, reaching with his free hand to adjust the blanket that didn't need adjusting. "Guess you ain't been a kid for quite some time." Vin finally lifted his head and blinked the dryness out of his eyes, looking at Chris. "You want to lay down?" Chris asked and Vin nodded.

It took a little maneuvering to keep Vin upright till the blankets were pulled back, settle him against the pillows, tuck him in, but Chris didn't ask for help and Mary didn't offer. She could tell Vin was deathly ill just from looking at him, eyes dark against pale skin, his hair damp with fever against his forehead. He didn't move on his own, but held his body tight against the pain and just followed wherever Chris guided him.

"You'll have some soup." Chris said. Not a question. Vin was afraid of chasing him away again so, even though he wasn't hungry, he nodded. Chris saw it in his eyes, Vin would do anything if it meant Chris wouldn't leave him again, and Chris hated himself for causing it. "Just a little bit..." he offered. "And Buck said it's about time for some more medicine..."

"...'kay..."

Chris nodded, and adjusted the blankets that didn't need adjusting.

+ + + + + + +

JD gave a sour look as Buck came up to him at the saloon. Josiah was escorting Mrs. O'Brien home, and Ezra had walked Nettie back to Mary's house.

"Y'ain't gonna hug me again, are you?" The question brought rushing back all the feelings that had caused Buck to hug him in the first place - the frightening vision of JD, alone, lost, and damaged by this wild country if they hadn't fallen in together. Buck didn't want to suffer that vision anymore, so he made light of it, playfully trying to pinch the kid's cheek.

"Well, you're just s'darn cute, JD. A fella can't help but want to hug you..."

"Buck, I think you stayed too long at Nathan's and breathed in some of that ether he's got..." He was about to turn away but Buck pulled him back.

"What was it you told Larabee that got him up there so quick?"

JD grinned. "Did you leave the door open?"

"Yep, sure glad I did too, or he woulda busted it open...what'd you do?"

"I just made believe you were being mean to Vin is all. He was outta here so fast, his shadow ain't caught up with him yet."

"Dammit boy!" Buck said with admiration. "You are just too smart for your own good!" Another moment's thought. "What the hell..." and he grabbed JD in a hug again. JD was glad no one else was around. "Aw Buck...c'mon!"

+ + + + + + +

When Vin fell back asleep, Chris and Mary sat in the chairs near the woodstove. Chris sat where he could watch Vin, and absently ate a piece of the bread. "So, how could you be so sure I'd come back?" He finally got the chance to ask. They kept their voices low.

"I've seen you with Vin." Mary said. "I know that you're friends with all the men, but I can tell that you keep a special eye on Vin. The tough kid brother who doesn't need anybody watching him. Only he doesn't realize that that's only because you watch him constantly." Chris shook his head, not exactly agreeing with her.

"I don't watch him."

"Chris - you knew long before I did that Vin can't read, didn't you? Looking back on it now, I remember all the times when you were walking through the town, or when I'd see you at the restaurant - if there was a handbill posted that you thought Vin needed to know, or if something changed on the menu, you'd read it out loud, but as though to yourself. To spare him having to choose between asking and not knowing." Mary could see that she was right. Chris ducked his head and tore the middle out of the piece of bread in his hand, and she realized something that she previously thought impossible. Chris Larabee was embarrassed. She'd seen armed, vicious outlaws frozen in their tracks by this man, and now he was embarrassed to be caught helping a friend.

"You are a puzzling man, Mr. Larabee." She said after a moment, and Chris looked up at her with what was almost a shy grin.

"Why Mrs. Travis - I didn't think you noticed."

Part Thirty-one

Vin scanned the crowd that had come to see him hang. Just one, he thought. If he could see just one of his friends before he died. There were a lot of faces he recognized, though no names came to mind, but none was a friendly face. The more he looked at the crowd, the more he realized - all the faces were familiar. All were men he had hunted for the bounty on their heads. Some he had brought to justice to be sent to prison, some to hang, some he had killed.

The faces of dead men filled the crowd that had come to see him hang.

Just one, he thought. If he could just see one of his friends before... Vin heard the complaint of the gears as the trapdoor was sprung and he was sent to hell.

+ + + + + + +

It was Dawn, Nathan was sleeping on the cot that Chris had repeatedly refused to take, choosing instead to spend the night uncomfortably in a chair by Vin. He slept off and on, waking up regularly as one part or another of his body twinged in defiance of the chair. He was awake now, trying to rub some feeling back into his arm, when Vin flinched as though he'd been startled in his sleep and sat bolt upright, gasping for air and clawing at his neck.

"NO!" It hardly sounded like a word at all, it was so raw. "Please - don't - don't..." Vin desperately tried to pull the noose off before he strangled, but he couldn't get his fingers around it.

"Vin - what is it?" Chris took Vin's hands and held them down, trying to see if there was something on the outside of his neck that was tormenting him. But all he could see were the angry scratches Vin was inflicting on himself.

"What is it?" Nathan was awake and crouching by the bed.

"I don't know - he woke up, started scratching at himself..."

Nathan tried to get Vin's attention. "Vin - can you hear me? Look at me. Is your throat hurtin' you that bad?" Vin looked at him, still caught in the hallucination. He saw a friend finally - but - but - a memory churned inside of him. They'd hanged him too. They'd hanged Nathan that day in town. Please God, he was surrounded by the dead. He sobbed in fear, and struggled and bit at the hands that restrained him. He had to get the noose off before he was dead too...

Chris was surprised when Vin tried to bite him, obviously frantic to be free. But he held on, twisting out of harm's way, keeping Vin from hurting himself, but letting him pull away from Nathan.

"Get it off... I don't want to hang...please..." The noose bit in to Vin's neck and he felt himself grow lightheaded. He was dying. Please God, not alone. Don't want to die alone. Please God. But Vin didn't have much fight in him and his body abruptly gave up the struggle against Chris. He lay almost off the pillows, panting from his exertion, still softly moaning in fear. When Chris saw that it was safe, he let go of Vin's hands and gently shifted him back onto the pillows.

Vin felt the hands touching him. Dead man's hands. He was surrounded by dead men. He squeezed his eyes shut to not see them, please God, get them away from me. Please God, I don't want to die alone. Please - I don't want to hang.

"He thinks he's being hanged." Chris finally made the words out. He shook Vin to wake him from the nightmare. "Vin - c'mon. Wake up. It's OK, you're safe."

"That ain't gonna work." Nathan said. "Shakin' him. He's awake, but he's delirious. We have to get his fever down. Keep talkin' to him though." He said that more to give Chris something to do, than because he thought it would do Vin any good. "Let him know he's safe. Keep him from hurtin' himself. I'll get the medicine and some fresh water to cool him down."

Vin heard the voice, still felt the hands. "...you're safe..." Dead man's hands. Dead man's voice. "...take care of you..." Please God, he didn't want to hear their voices. "...ain't gonna hurt you..." Didn't want to hear what a dead man would say to him. "...Vin..." Please God. He tried one last time to push away from the hands that kept him trapped in the horror, surrounded by dead men...

He felt it - as he pushed away one last time, Vin felt it. A hand, warm and strong held his own. Held on firmly but without hurting. He felt it, and waited for the warmth to ebb away and the strength to fail. Waited for it to be dead. But the warm, firm strength didn't change. Vin opened his eyes.

On the gallows, searching the crowd, he saw Chris coming toward him. Chris put something cool on Vin's neck and the noose dissolved and he could breathe again. Chris held his hand, and Vin felt himself sinking slowly into welcome darkness. No dead men, no voices, no fear.

+ + + + + + +

"I think he's asleep again." Chris didn't let go of Vin's hand.

"I guess you got through to him." Nathan said. He carefully washed the scratches on Vin's neck, and laid a cold, wet rag on his forehead.

"How much longer is this gonna go on?"

‘until he gets better or dies' Nathan thought to himself, but said: "Could be another day, could be a week Chris. Quinsy don't run no regular course..."

"Ain't there nothing else we can do? Different medicine? Something Nathan?"

Nathan shook his head. "I'm sorry Chris."

Part Thirty-two

"Vin was the first one to shake my hand, that day we all joined up." Josiah said. "That meant something to me..."

Buck wasn't so impressed. "First thing he did to me was make me think he was a jealous husband. ‘Course, Chris put him up to it." His expression grew serious. "Y'think on it though, him takin' on that mob, all by himself, to save Nathan...wish I'da been there to see the look on his face..."

Three of them, Josiah, Ezra, and Buck sat at a table in the saloon. Waiting for word one way or another. JD kept his vigil outside the clinic door, while inside Chris and Nathan tended to Vin.

"What did you think of Vin, first time you saw him?" Buck asked Ezra.

"Well, I do admit, my first impression of Mr. Tanner was in no way accurate. I perceived him to be a juvenile with no better sense than to place himself perilously close to danger."

"Hunh?" Buck said.

Ezra's eyes flashed as he smiled in remembering his exact first impression. "I thought that he was a rather little fella to be standing so close to a man with murder in his eyes..."

"Ha - yeah he don't come up to more ‘n a little bit over Chris' shoulder does he?" Buck laughed. "He gets that redskin glare in his eyes though, you'd think he's the biggest fella y'ever seen. The looks that cross his face sometimes, they'll scare y'even more than Chris..."

+ + + + + + +

Chris hadn't even blinked in fifteen minutes. He stared hard at Vin, almost willing each breath into his weakening friend. His mind flashed briefly on the possibility that the blankets were too heavy for Vin to draw a proper breath, and although Chris knew that wasn't true, he drew all but one of the covers off Vin's chest. Vin's eyes flickered at the touch.

"How you doin' Pard?" Chris asked softly, but got no answer. "You hang on, y'hear? You been through worse than this..." A guess more than a certainty. "You just gotta hold on."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lord, it was hot. Vin couldn't remember such unrelenting heat, even in Texas. The sun was dead straight above him, nearly blinding him in a white glare. Not even a shadow. He kept thinking he had his canteen. He'd see it there, strapped to his belt. But whenever he reached for it, it was gone. He was so thirsty. If only he could recognize which part of the desert he was in, he could remember where the nearest water hole was. If only the sun wasn't so hard...

He blinked against the brightness and for a moment saw shapes on the rim of his vision. At first, the swirling haze made the images dance, but his eyes seemed to grow accustomed to the sunlight and Vin recognized the horror.

Oh God -

Buffalo carcasses, skinned and bloody, lay all around him.

Please God -

He turned, but wherever he looked, the land was glutted with it, rotting flesh and clinging blood, slowly melting into the burned earth. Vin wanted to cover his face to keep from gagging, but he couldn't bring his hands up. He had to get out of here. If only he could get back to town, he'd be safe in town. But there was no easy path through the carnage, his legs didn't want to move, and he could feel his feet catching on the ravaged animals. He wanted to gag.

Please God - just let me get to town.

Suddenly, there in front of him, he saw a buffalo calf. Newborn, still wet with afterbirth. It looked up at Vin, mournfully crying out for the mother it had lost too soon. The mother that Vin had killed and skinned.

Oh God -

Desperation built up inside of Vin. He had to get around it, climb over it, something, anything, but he couldn't get his body to move. It was just a baby buffalo, why couldn't he just walk past it? It was as though the ground was swallowing him up. His legs wouldn't budge, his feet were sinking into the grisly dust.

Oh God - I'm sorry.

He twisted, turned, tried to free himself from the mutilated carcasses. The stink of them made him want to gag so bad. He couldn't push himself free without touching the raw, rotting flesh and he didn't want to touch it. He could hear the buffalo calf still crying, it's plaintive wailing sounding so much like a incessant question - why? why? why?

God - please - let me get back to town...

It was then that Vin saw them, again at the rim of his vision, slowly shimmering into focus. He saw them and would've cried but his body had no moisture left in it, not even tears.

Oh God - I'm sorry They stood singly, or by family, or by tribe. Old people, young people, babies, their dead eyes bored right into Vin and their ululating lamentations echoed the dying calf's cry.

Why? Why? Why?

Whole families dead for each buffalo that Vin had killed and skinned. Old men, young women, babies - starved and frozen to death over the winters there had been no buffalo to see them through. Why?

God - please -

Vin was afraid he'd go mad if he didn't get out of this hell. He had to get back to town. Back in town they'd help him make sense of it. He had to get back to town. He had to get back to town...

There, in front of him, lay the body of the buffalo calf. Dead, eyes dried and sunken, and still it cried out - why...?

Vin tried to scream but his mouth and throat filled with the bloody sand, choking off any sound...any air...any life...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"What is it?" Chris demanded of Nathan. Vin twitched on the bed and pulled in ragged breaths. His eyes were open, but he wasn't seeing anything, his hands clutched at nothing.

"Could be more delirium..." Nathan felt Vin's forehead. "Fever hasn't gone up any."

"Could be?" Chris snapped. "Don't you know?" Nathan leveled his gaze at Chris and spoke very calmly.

"No Chris. I don't know. It could be delirium, it could be a bad dream. His fever might be givin' him seizures. Or the infection might be goin' into his blood stream and affecting his brain. I don't know." And the fact that he didn't know ate at Nathan. It showed in his face.

Chris roughly rubbed his eyes. "God, I'm sorry Nate...I know you're doin' all you can. I know Vin wouldn't have lasted this long without you. I'm sorry."

Nathan managed a smile he didn't quite feel. "It's okay Chris. I know you're worried. We're all worried. C'mon now, why don't you go out and get some fresh air? I sent JD for water. It's been a long night and day for Vin and I need to clean him up. Don't have to go far, just get up and stretch your legs...c'mon now." He repeated when Chris made no move to get out of the chair. "I'll call you if I need help."

"Okay." Chris stood up stiffly. Every joint ached. "I'll just be outside." He went as far as the balcony and sat on the top step. He bent his head down to try and stretch the ache out of his neck.

"How's he doin'?" A near voice made him look up faster than he should have.

"Nettie -" He wondered if she was going to lay into him for not being welded to the bed post. But Nettie could see the fear and worry in his eyes, and she left her question hanging there till Chris answered. "Restless, he slept off and on. Don't know how much rest he got though. Nathan's tendin' to him now, gettin' him cleaned up."

"Good - I brought my husband's nightshirts, figured he'd need a couple more. I'll lend a hand." She walked up the stairs and just as she came even with Chris, he felt her lay her hand on his head. That was all. No other word, no further remark. She lightly ruffled his disheveled hair then kept on going into the clinic.

Part Thirty-three

Chris rested his head on his hands, staring down at the splintering step between his feet. He tried not to feel that ache inside that told him he was losing somebody. He tried to pray but it'd been so long since he'd sent anything remotely civil heavenward, he wasn't sure God would listen to him anymore.

He heard JD walk up and down the stairs, carrying water in, carrying laundry out. If JD had said a word to him, Chris wouldn't have heard it. He was back, standing on the boardwalk in front of the saloon, watching a mob drag a black man off to be lynched, watching a young shop clerk watch the mob too, while he pretended to sweep a clean porch. Chris tried to remember the feeling he had when they harmed the woman, and he watched that shop clerk walk into the store calmly and come back out deadly. He was a wiry kid, Chris wouldn't have put him above twenty at the time, but he was resolved to face that mob alone.

Chris shook his head. Vin hadn't even looked relieved when Chris got in step beside him, he just had that look on his face that Chris came to realize covered almost every emotion Vin might have inside. Except that look he had when Eli Joe died - that look of utter despair. Chris realized he didn't know if Vin had ever really forgiven him for killing the son of a bitch. They hadn't talked about it even once since then. All Chris had cared about at that moment was saving Vin, saving his life.

Funny how a scrawny kid with a determined look in his eye could come to mean so much to him in so short a time. Chris shook his head. He ain't no kid, he thought to himself and grinned. How many times had Vin stepped in, taken over, when the Seven had trouble to quell and Chris wasn't in a position to be their leader? It said something about Vin that the men would follow someone so much younger than themselves. Or somebody not too much older in JD's case. It said a lot about Vin.

The door opened and closed behind him and Nathan came out. "Chris, you can go on back in now. He's all set. I'm goin' out to the O'Brien's, have a look at Bart."

"Okay..." Chris unfolded himself, joints still creaking from the night spent in the chair. "I need to do anything?"

"Not for awhile. I just gave him some more medicine. Keep him quiet, I'll be back soon as I can."

"Allright." Chris headed into the clinic. He found Nettie standing at the bed, gazing down at Vin with a very tender look on her face. Her expression didn't change as she looked up at him.

"Nathan tells me you had a rough night."

"We got through it." Chris shrugged. He looked down at Vin. They'd turned him on his side and he was curled into the pillows and blankets. His eyes were closed now and he was no longer twitching and restless.

"Walk me out to the stairs Mr. Larabee...?" It was nearly a request and Chris walked with her, held the door for her, and stood near her at the top step. "I believe I owe you an apology for last night Chris."

"You didn't say anything I didn't deserve."

"Ain't for what I said son, it's for what I was thinking."

"In that case Nettie, we'll just call it even - I owe you one for what I was thinking too."

+ + + + + + +

Footsteps.

Vin struggled to pull himself out of the darkness, to hear what was going on, who was nearby. What time was it? What was he still doing in bed? He lifted his head to look out the window, to gauge what time it was. Early afternoon by the angle of the sun.

Footsteps...

God, no - he was really going to get it this time. Early afternoon and he hadn't done his chores. They didn't wake him up, they waited to see how long it took him to realize how much trouble he was in. Waited sometimes standing over the bed for him to open his eyes just in time to see the first blow coming.

Footsteps...

He was coming in the door.

+ + + + + + +

When Nettie was down the stairs and on her way to Mary's, Chris went back in to Vin. The first sight that greeted him was the empty bed. Buck had told Chris that whenever Vin was left on his own, even for a minute, he'd try to get out of bed, and Chris briefly wondered where Vin thought he was getting to, sick as he was. It only took a second to see him, pressed into the corner of the room on the far side of the bed. Chris reckoned Vin was delirious, or confused, or too hot, and he went to help him get back into bed.

Footsteps...

He'd only gone a few paces when Vin snarled at him: "Don't touch me. You touch me and I'll kill you. I ain't no kid no more. You touch me and I'll kill you..." His weak voice held a desperate threat. He wasn't even looking at Chris.

"Vin..." Chris took one more step and Vin shrank even further into the corner and tucked his hands under his arms. Chris stopped. He didn't want to frighten Vin any more than he was. He also didn't want to leave him - couldn't leave him shivering in a borrowed night shirt, huddled in the corner, trapped in an old fear. So, while Vin might think Chris was going to hurt him, Chris knew that he wasn't. He pulled the quilt off the bed and approached Vin again.

"Don't - don't -" Instead of fighting back, Vin seemed intent on melting into the rough wood of the walls, tensing himself against the beating he knew was coming. "Please..."

When he got close enough, Chris knelt on the floor to get the quilt around Vin's shoulders. "C'mon Vin, it's okay. It's just me. I won't let anybody hurt you..." Chris hoped his soft words would get through to Vin. "You're safe now, you're here in town with us...you're shiverin', I just want to get you warmed up again...it's okay Vin. Nobody's gonna hurt you. I won't let anybody hurt you." It wasn't physically hard to draw Vin up enough to wrap him in the quilt. "It's just me..."

"Chris?"

The sound of Vin saying his name startled Chris. He sat back to get a look at him. "How're you doin' Pard?"

"Why am I on the floor?"

"I don't know..."

Vin looked around the little area between the wall and the bed. "Why am I on the floor?" He asked again as though he hadn't heard Chris.

"I think you had a bad dream...your fever's pretty high."

"He was gonna beat me." Vin remembered. "I didn't do my chores ‘n he was gonna beat me for it...for bein' sick."

"He ain't here Vin, just me." Chris reminded him gently. "You c'mon back into bed and close your eyes. You're safe here."

"No - I don't want t'go back to sleep." Just the thought of it scared Vin. "He's there. He's there when I close my eyes, Chris. They all are. Everybody I killed - they're just waiting for me to be dead too so's they can drag me off into hell with them." His voice rose in panic. "God Chris. Even the buffalo I killed was there, wantin' me to die. Don't make me go back to sleep Chris - please - I can't go back there...I don't want to die there. Please Chris, please don't leave me there..."

"I won't Vin, I promise. You don't have to go back to sleep, you don't have to go back there..." Chris didn't know exactly where ‘there' was, but Vin was terrified of it. "You want to just stay here, where y'are? Keep the blanket around you, just sit here a spell?"

"I don't want t'go to sleep..." Vin insisted again. Tears flickered in his eyes, illness, exhaustion, pain, and fear taking their toll.

"No, you don't have to go to sleep." Chris turned so that he was sitting on the floor next to Vin, with his back against the wall. "We'll just sit here a spell. You don't even have to close your eyes. We'll just sit here a spell." Chris figured Vin wouldn't be able to hold out too long against his body and he'd be asleep soon. "That OK with you Pard?'

Vin nodded. "Yeah..." though he sounded suspicious.

"Okay..." Chris slowly and gently slipped his arm around Vin's shoulders. He felt Vin still shivering. "Why don't you lean against me, like you did last night - remember? So y'don't have to lean against the wall. It'll keep you warmer..." That thought persuaded Vin more than any other. "And we'll just sit here a spell, all right?" Vin nodded and shifted slightly so that he leaned against Chris, keeping the quilt tucked around him.

The room was quiet and dimly illuminated with the sunlight that found its way through the windows. The street sounds were muffled. The only real sound in the clinic was the harshness of Vin's breathing, and the way it caught every once in a while as he tried to shake himself out of falling asleep.

"You okay?" Chris asked.

"Don't want t'go to sleep..."

"I mean - sitting up like this? You comfortable?"

"My back hurts." Vin's head was down, resting against Chris' shoulder. If he didn't feel so sickly and about to die, he'd be embarrassed to be needing such comfort. "Hell, everything hurts. Can't find a place to be where it all don't hurt."

"Here..." Chris told himself that JD wasn't the only devious one in the bunch. "Maybe if you just turned a little more and let me hold you...you're holdin' on so stiff just to stay upright, no wonder everything hurts...I won't let you fall or nothin'...here..." Chris put his other arm around Vin and gently guided him till he was tucked across Chris, head resting on Chris' arm. Vin was about to say how foolish he felt, a grown man needing any kind of support and comfort - but all that came out was an unreserved sigh as his overburdened muscles finally relaxed into the support. He was dead asleep in a heartbeat.

‘I forgot how heavy kids are when they sleep.' Chris thought, as pleased with himself as JD had been that his plan worked so quickly on someone so unwilling. He adjusted the quilt that didn't need adjusting, and settled himself back for what he hoped for Vin would be a long sleep.

Part Thirty-four

Chris wasn't sure how long they sat there on the floor, Vin asleep, resting across him. His breath still rasped in his throat and his fever stayed high, but he slept. Thank God. Chris heard someone come up the stairs and head for the clinic - Nathan must be back from the O'Briens. But Josiah opened the door and came in. He looked around a second before he spotted them on the floor, in the corner. He smiled.

"When Vin gets well, he's gonna be mighty embarrassed to be sleepin' that way." The young tracker was all but lost in the vast quilt, held securely in Chris' arms. The only parts of him visible were the top of his head, and the fingers of one hand holding an edge of the quilt.

"I know." Chris agreed. He spoke as loudly as he dared. "But it's the first sound sleep he's had in 2 days...it was all I could think of."

"Well, it does seem to have worked." Josiah closed the door. "I came by to check on you, see how you're doing. Would you like to get him back into bed?" Chris looked down at Vin, he could feel how relaxed he was in sleep, he didn't want to disrupt that.

"Naah, thank you Josiah. I'll think we'll just stay this way a little longer." He put his hand protectively on Vin's shoulder. Josiah considered them again. He came closer and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Powerful lot of trust he's showin' in you Chris."

"I know." Chris had to say again.

"You know, last night when Vin was here with Nettie, I think he was cryin'. I don't know if it was ‘cause you weren't here or not... but it was pretty fierce from the look of him when I got back to town."

Chris felt bad that he'd left Vin so long last night. It wasn't more than a couple of hours; still, judging from how soundly Vin was sleeping now, the lack had put him through hell. "You said that whatever's goin' on inside of him was like an infection, or a fever Josiah. I guess you were more right than you knew."

"The Good Lord didn't have to take me so literal..."

+ + + + + + +

The cabin was bright, and a clean wind blew through the open windows and door. Vin pushed himself up off the colorful quilt that covered the top of his little bed. He could hear his mother, outside the door, talking with somebody. The light was so bright around her, Vin could barely make her out. She obviously saw him.

"You finally with us, sleepyhead?" Her voice tinkled like bells in his hearing. He felt the instant rush of how much she loved him. "Are you coming? We're waiting on you. Your Papa and I are out here waiting on you."

+ + + + + + +

Nathan got back to town an hour or so before nightfall. Little Bart was doing fine, but some of the other children were showing signs of coming down with the same thing and he'd spent his time checking and dosing, talking, reassuring - and keeping ‘Bel and Zeke from rifling through his possessions and climbing into his lap whenever his guard was down. It'd figure they'd be two that weren't sick. JD got into step beside his friend and they headed toward the clinic together. "How're things goin' up there?" Nathan asked.

"Quiet, I guess Vin's been sleepin'. Josiah was there awhile, he said Vin was on the floor and Chris was holdin' him. Had him all wrapped up in the quilt. Said Vin was sleepin' pretty sound too..." JD finally asked what every one of them had been wondering. "Is he gonna make it Nathan?" The thought of Vin being sick enough that Chris would hold him, sick enough to let himself be held, was more disturbing than his physical symptoms.

"I don't know JD." Nathan said it with pure resignation. "He's got an abscess growing on the back of his throat. That's what quinsy is. It grows between your tonsils. I gotta wait for that abscess to get big enough, they call it ‘mature' enough, so that I can drain it and get all that poison outta his system. Until then, his body is fightin' the infection like hell, which causes the fever, which is giving him hallucinations, which is settin' Chris to fussin'." He sighed as they walked up the stairs to the clinic. "...which is givin' me a headache."

He opened the door into the clinic - and both men stopped cold. Vin was back in bed, flat out on the mattress. His open eyes saw nothing, and he was pale and still as death. But what alarmed Nathan and JD even more was what they saw just next to the bed - sitting in the chair, with his head in his hands, Chris Larabee was crying.

Part Thirty-five

JD finally found Buck at Mrs. Potter's. He'd run all over town looking for him. He was with Ezra and Josiah, helping clean up a mess created by an attempted theft at the store. Well, Buck was doing most of the cleaning, Ezra was pointing out every piece of glass that Buck missed with the broom, and Josiah was assisting Mrs. Potter in reorganizing her shelves.

"Buck!" JD was breathless from his search. "Nathan wants you over to his clinic, NOW." Before he had the chance to say why, Buck was out the door so fast the broom spun twice before falling to the floor. JD found himself the object of intense scrutiny from the three remaining people.

"What happened?" Josiah asked.

"Vin went sour, just all of a sudden..." Tears rolled down JD's face but he didn't want to cry in front of Mrs. Potter. "Nathan wants Buck there - for Chris - "

+ + + + + + +

"He just went stiff in my arms, and it sounded like he was calling for his Ma..." Chris was doing his best to explain to Nathan what happened. But it happened so fast. "Then he just went limp and I couldn't get him to wake up..." Chris thought, I killed him, letting him sleep on the cold floor. He was mine to look out for and I killed him.

Nathan paid scant attention to Chris as he listened for Vin's heart and breathing. Both were there. "It's allright Chris. He's still holdin' on..." He set the stethoscope aside. "Help me get these blankets back over him. We still gotta keep him warm. Chris - c'mon and help me." Chris dragged his sleeve across his eyes and went to the other side of the bed to help pull the blankets straight.

"These blankets ain't gonna be too heavy on him, are they? He's gonna be able to breathe?"

"Yeah, Chris. He'll be able to breathe." Nathan said. He'd never seen - and had never expected to see - Chris so distraught. He gave Buck a whole lot more credit now, that he'd seen Chris through the death of his family, if Vin's sickness was taking this toll on him. "He's holdin' on. He's a tough customer Chris, he's holdin' on."

"Yeah." Chris didn't take his eyes off Vin. Each shallow breath seemed to take so long, in and out, he expected each one to be the last one. He didn't even hear Buck coming up the steps at a run. Nathan heard though, and went out to meet him.

"Nathan - how's Vin? He still kickin'?" Buck was so alarmed himself, Nathan briefly wondered if he'd do Chris any good. "I came soon's JD told me...whatever you need Nathan - you just say the word."

"I need you to stay with Chris." Nathan said. It wasn't exactly what Buck was expecting. "Chris is takin' this mighty hard and I don't want him to be alone."

"What're you sayin' Nathan?" Buck refused to believe what he knew he was hearing.

"This is it Buck - this is where Vin lives or dies."

+ + + + + + +

Buck couldn't help but remember the night before, less than twenty-four hours before, he stood at the door to the clinic, tired and anxious, and dreading that first step back inside. Here he was again. He put a trembling hand on the latch and took a breath and a step inside. It was still daylight outside, but inside the clinic was growing gray shadows. Buck stopped just inside the door - the room needed fresh air. It smelled of sweat, medicine, and lamp oil. He left it open and came in. If Nathan wanted it shut, he figured Nathan would shut it.

Buck saw Vin in the bed, so pale and thin he was practically spirit already. His eyes were closed and his breath came in ragged gasps. No wonder JD had been in such a lather to find him.

Chris was in the chair, arms on his knees, staring hard at Vin. Buck wondered for a split second what was going on in Chris's mind. Chris' heart and his intellect were once roughly the same size; since his family's death, his heart had shrunk small as a pebble. As sad as this moment was, it gave Buck a small amount of odd comfort that Chris had let his heart open up enough to let this boy in.

"How're you doin'?" Buck crouched beside Chris.

"He's gettin' worse." Chris said, not hearing what Buck was asking. "All of a sudden..." His eyes were red and Buck knew he'd been crying.

"How are YOU Chris?" He put his hand on Chris' shoulder. "You ain't been outta this room in almost a day. You get any sleep last night?"

"Slept in the chair." He indicated the one he was sitting in.

"Chair maybe - slept, I don't think so." Buck told him. "You need to lay down."

"NO. I won't leave him."

"Just over to the cot Chris...when he wakes up, he's gonna need you rested and alert."

Chris' voice was hoarse and he sounded dazed. "He ain't gonna wake up."

Buck didn't know how to answer that. He wanted desperately to say something that would encourage Chris, but it was going to be hard enough keeping Chris alive if Vin died, Buck didn't want to make it worse by offering him false hope now.

"You don't know that Chris. He ain't died yet, he could still pull through." Buck still had his hand on Chris' shoulder and he nudged him a little to get his attention. "How many scrapes y'reckon he's got himself through already? And most of ‘em all by his lonesome, nobody around to help him. Look here, now he's got himself six of the most stubborn men I ever met, each one bound and determined to bring him back from this."

"What if he don't to Buck? What if he don't want to come back?"

"What d'you mean?"

Chris looked back down at Vin. He wanted to but didn't reach his hand out to touch him. "Before - just before he - got this way - he was calling to his mother. Don't you see - he'd rather be with her. I told you he said there's been times when he almost went to be with her. Well, now he don't have to do anything but let go and he'll be with her. Maybe he'd just rather let go than fight to stay here."

All of it was true - and frighteningly so. But Buck wasn't going to give up that fast, no matter if Vin wanted to or not. "Well, it's just too bad if he wants to let go. We ain't gonna let him, are we? None of us. We got medicine, fresh water, clean pillow cases - hell, he's got half the town praying for him right this minute. If that don't -"

"I ain't prayed for him." Chris admitted. Buck was taken aback.

"Y'aint?"

"Nope, I tried. I been trying. I can't find the words. I been angry at God for so long about Sarah and Adam, how do I go to Him now asking a favor?"

They'd been through a lot together, these two friends. Buck thought the hardest was behind them when they'd picked through the smoking, smoldering ruins of the farmhouse to find the nearly unrecognizable remains of Chris' wife and child. Maybe that would always be the hardest - there were no words then, nothing to be said that would bring comfort to the grieving, no oaths that would bring the vengeance of God down on the guilty. But there were words now. Hard though they might be to say, Buck heard himself saying them: "I'll pray with you."

Part Thirty-six

Josiah left to get Miss Nettie. Ezra picked up the broom and began to sweep distractedly. Mrs. Potter asked: "JD? Is there anything - anything at all - that Vin needs? Anything that'd be helpful?"

"I - I - don't know Ma'am..." JD stammered out his answer, still in shock from seeing Chris broken down and crying. "Nathan said this was it." He started crying then, scrubbing his eyes to make it not happen. Mrs. Potter went to him and hugged him.

"I know how hard this is JD, I do know that. You let me know if there's anything that boy needs. Either to make him comfortable or - or - well, you just let me know what I can do afterward..."

"Yes Ma'am."

Not sweeping anywhere near the mess, Ezra set the broom aside and had to clear his throat once or twice before he could speak. "JD, why don't we remove ourselves to Mr. Jackson's clinic and determine first hand if anything might be lacking in Mr. Tanner's comfort?" JD nodded. Ezra put his arm around his shoulders and they headed out the door and down the street.

+ + + + + + +

Chris kept his eyes shut. That seemed to make it easier. So many things he'd done in his life that he ought to be ashamed of, here he was uneasy about praying for a dying friend. Buck had shifted position to sit on the edge of the bed and had one hand resting where Vin's hand lay under the blankets. He took a deep breath.

"Lord, this ain't...easy...for any of us. We got us a sick pard here ‘n it seems like you're the only one can keep him with us now." Buck's voice wavered between a whisper and a louder tone. "Maybe you got people prayin' for him who care more about you than we do Lord, but I warrant you ain't got nobody prayin' who cares more about Vin..."

+ + + + + + +

Nathan leaned back against the wall outside his clinic. He'd let the door stay open and heard them praying inside. He joined his own prayer to theirs. Buck was right - the good Lord had the final say here. He saw Ezra and JD approaching and walked the few steps to meet them near the stairs. "How is he?" Ezra asked. Since there were no sounds of destruction coming from inside the clinic, he gathered Vin was still alive.

"Holdin' on - barely. He ain't conscious, hard to get water or medicine into him without chokin' him. How're you doin' JD?"

I'm okay." JD obviously lied. "Mrs. Potter asked what she can do, now or...later."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Are Chris and Buck in there with Vin?" Ezra indicated the open door.

"Yeah, I'm hopin' havin' Chris nearby will keep Vin alive. And I'm hopin' havin' Buck nearby will do the same thing for Chris."

+ + + + + + +

Buck sat on the edge of the bed awhile, then moved to sit against the wall under the window next to the head of the bed. It put him nearly at eye level with Vin, if Vin's eyes had been open. He noticed that, even though it'd been a few days, Vin was only now showing signs of needing a shave. Maybe he should've thought to take care of that last night when he was changing the bedding.

"Have to get him some more longjohns." He said absently.

"What?" Chris was sure he didn't hear Buck right, and Buck realized that it might not matter now.

"Longjohns, he said he ain't got but one set of ‘em...he'll need ‘em when -" if "- he gets better...winter comin' on and all..."

"Yeah..." But Chris found it hard to think of anything past the next breath Vin had to take. Winter was so long off. Hell, tomorrow was too long off if Vin was going to get better, and too soon coming if he wasn't.

Buck looked from Chris to Vin and back again. Chris had looked like hell last night, sitting in the saloon. He still looked bad, but perked up some, when JD's trick had got him back up here. Now, he was back to looking like hell. Buck knew, he was back to being IN hell.

"He means a whole lot to you, don't he?" Buck asked. "More'n just bein' a friend. He's somebody you can look out for."

"Seems I got a whole town to look out for." Chris reminded him.

"Naah, you ain't got a whole town you'd go against Federal Marshals for." Buck said, thinking of Eli Joe.

"They weren't Federal Marshals."

"You didn't know that when you went tearin' across the countryside to save Vin or die tryin'."

"I recollect goin' down to Purgatory to save some fool I known ten years." Chris briefly let his attention turn from Vin to Buck.

"Yeah, but y'sent Vin back home from Purgatory so's he wouldn't get into trouble with some of his old bounties...and I thought we knowed each other twelve years?" And the two old friends smiled at each other, like old times, over another misery they were seeing each other through.

"He said we're like brothers." Chris said, nodding down at the tracker.

"You ‘n him?" Buck was surprised by the little needle of jealousy he suddenly felt.

"Nahh, me ‘n you. He said we spit and fuss at each other, then go on like it never happened. Like brothers."

The needle was replaced by a genuine feeling of closeness with Chris that had been missing a long time. Set down as it was in such a sad moment, Buck felt tears in his eyes and he thought fast to overcome them.

"No, what we are Chris, is a coupla old biddies, tryin' to keep Vin ‘n JD outta the way of the chicken hawks..." Still, such a sad moment might be the only time to say it. "I think he's right though, ‘bout you ‘n me. No matter what bad blood comes between us, no matter Vin ‘n JD, you're my oldest friend Chris. You're my best friend. Time like this -" He nodded to Vin. "-just wanted to be sure y'knew that."

Chris never had words like that inside of him. He always figured actions counted more than words. Anybody could say anything they wanted, it was what you did for a person - or to them - that really spoke how you felt.

"I'da gone after them Marshals for you too Buck."

+ + + + + + +

"Ma?" The light was so bright, but it didn't hurt to look into it.

"I'm here angel. Your Papa and I are waiting on you."

"I picked you flowers Ma." Vin didn't remember how, but suddenly he had a handful of Queen Anne's Lace. He hadn't moved off the bright quilt on the little bed.

"Aren't you just the sweetest boy any mother could want." She hugged him. It felt like she hugged him anyway, but he could barely see her in the bright light. "Are you coming with us, angel? It's not very far now, you could come with us."

"I want to come with you Ma. I missed you. I been wantin' to be with you all this time..." He tried to push himself off the bed, but he was so tired, and he felt so weak. "Ma - wait for me... don't leave me again..."

"Your Papa and I are waiting on you angel..."

+ + + + + + +

"What's he sayin'?" Buck asked.

"No, I can't make it out." Chris wrung out the rag in fresh water and laid it across Vin's forehead. "Vin? Can you hear me? I can't hear what you're sayin'." Lord please, don't let him be back thinking he's about to be hanged. Don't let him be trapped ‘there' where he was so afraid to be. "You're safe here Vin, you're with us..."

"...don't go..." soft words forced through parched lips. "...don't leave me again..."

The words tore into Chris. "I ain't gonna leave you Vin. I'm here. Y'ain't alone. I ain't gonna leave you."

Buck thought more than words were needed and he leaned forward to lay a hand on Vin's head. "We're here Pard." He whispered. "You know we're here, we ain't gonna leave. Just hold on."

+ + + + + + +

"Ma?" the light was fading, taking her with. "Don't go."

"Hold on angel...hold on."

"To what Ma? Hold on to what?" There was no answer and Vin tried to reach out for his mother, but his hand was tangled in the quilt. "Hold on to what?"

+ + + + + + +

‘Lord, please, don't be lettin' him have a fit' Chris thought - prayed - as Vin began to fidget under the blankets. Seemed like he was trying to pull the covers down, and he was saying something else. "I can't hear what he's sayin' now." He told Buck.

"...'hold on'... that's what he's sayin'... ‘hold on'..." Buck looked square at Chris, silently insisting that he understand what Buck was sure Vin was asking. Chris looked at his hands. They were old hands, fingers thickened with work, calluses and scars criss-crossed them, these were not gentle hands. They were hands that could comfort a sick person - could they keep someone from dying? He pushed the blankets back and found another hand, rough, scarred and callused. Chris gently laid his hand on top of Vin's and curled his fingers around.

"I'm holdin' on Vin. I ain't gonna let go. I'm holdin' on. I expect you to do the same."

+ + + + + + +

"Ma?" The bright light wavered a moment, holding steady just outside the door.

"You're not coming angel. It isn't your time. Your friends need you. You hold on angel. They'll see you home."

"Please don't leave me Ma. You left me ‘n I was all alone. I don't wanna be alone again Ma. Please."

"You hold on angel..." her words echoed lightly in the cabin.

"Hold on to what Ma? I ain't got nothin' to hold onto."

"It isn't your time..." "Please..." he begged her. "I ain't got nothin' to hold onto. Please Ma - please stay with me." And the light stayed where it was, outside the cabin door.

"Your Papa and I are waiting on you angel..."

Part Thirty-seven

"You shoulda seen him Chris..." Buck had told this story before, but it bore repeating. "When we's headed out to get you from that hellhole prison, that old Sheriff had Vin dead to rights that he was a wanted man - Vin just sat there cool as anything. Knew we'd back his play, and we did. That Sheriff didn't know whether t'piss ‘r git." They both laughed softly, but it was a aching feeling, like telling stories at a wake. Buck still sat on the floor. He'd lit a lamp against the gathering darkness.

"Heard you weren't too neighborly to the storekeep neither." Chris remembered the story.

"Well...he was a mite slow in openin' up the display case your rig was settin' in. I just decided to help him out." Buck grinned, but it didn't last and he turned his eyes to Vin. "I reckon we coulda done it without him." He nodded to the still figure. "But I can't fancy it."

Chris still held Vin's hand. He was nearly over the awkwardness he felt in doing it. It'd been different when Vin was delirious and lashing out blindly - taking his hand then was to protect him, keep him from hurting himself. This - this was plain comfort that Chris wasn't even sure Vin was aware of. He kept his fingers still, afraid to be seen even brushing his thumb over the back of Vin's hand. Every once in a while he gave a reassuring squeeze, but if Buck had noticed or asked about it, Chris was prepared to say it was unintentional.

Buck noticed, but knew better than to mention it.

"Same way with Fowler..." Chris said. "Vin was just there, doin' what he knew had to be done." Chris looked Vin over, again, wanting to see any encouraging sign. But aside from the fact that he kept breathing, there wasn't any.

"He's a whole lot smarter'n he gives himself credit for." Buck said. "...'n he matters a whole lot more than he figures to a whole lot more people than he realizes....why, just countin' the female population a' this town. There's Nettie, Miz Potter, Mary, Casey, Miz O'Brien..."

"Abby." Chris had to put in. He'd told Buck the story.

"Ha! Yeah, poor girl. Little pitchers got big ears - big mouths too!"

And Vin stayed pale, still, and dying on the bed.

+ + + + + + +

If she hadn't been escorted by one of the peacekeepers of the town, Nettie would've gotten a citation for speeding her horse and buggy through the muddy street, Josiah doing his best to keep up. She slammed to a stop, the buggy skidding off -center, and she ran up the stairs without even hitching the horse to a post. She didn't stop till she was through the door and right at the end of the bed.

"He still with us?" Her worry gave a hoarse edge to her voice.

"Yes Ma'am...barely." Buck stood up to bring the other chair over for her. Nettie saw Chris' face, and that he had Vin's hand in his own. She declined the chair.

"No, thank you Buck. Don't reckon I'll stay..." She walked to the head of the bed and bent down to lightly kiss Vin. "I'll be nearby." She whispered and drifted her fingers through his hair. When she straightened up, she said "You come get me, when it's time. I'll be at Mary's..."

Buck gave her a lot of credit, watching her walk out of the clinic, with not even a backward look. He knew she cared for Vin, hell - loved him like he was her own, no doubt. But she walked out to let Chris be the one with Vin as he died.

+ + + + + + +

"Ma?"

"We're waiting on you angel."

"I'm so tired Ma...can I just sleep a little?"

"You have to hold on."

"Hold on to what Ma?" Vin was getting tired of her saying it but not explaining it. "I ain't got nothin'" But his complaint was cut off as he heard another voice.

"You hold on there son...I'm figurin' there's words in you need speakin' and I aim to hear every last one of 'em...." Josiah? Vin tried to look around the cabin, he was so tired, but he didn't see anyone else.

The light began to fade again at the door way. "MA! Please - don't go. Don't leave me here. Please - they'll hurt me..." The flowers had died in his hand, he clung to them anyway as they crumbled in his grasp. "Please..." his voice was a whisper. "I ain't got nothin' to hold onto..."

"Just hold onto me Vin, if you want to. I ain't goin' nowhere." JD? Still, there was no one else in the cabin.

"Ma?"

"Your friends will see you back angel. It's not your time..."

"I ain't got nothin' to hold onto..."

"You just hold onto what you do have now. You got us now. You got family now, and no matter what, you know we stand with you." Buck's voice this time, but Vin didn't even bother looking for him. He pressed his face into his pillow to not watch the light slowly fade from his sight.

"Ma..."

"I'm holdin' on Vin. I ain't gonna let go." Vin heard Chris' voice - and felt that warm strength enfolding his hand. "I'm holdin' on. I expect you to do the same."

+ + + + + + +

Chris was overwhelmed when he felt Vin's fingers move in his own. Still, he kept his voice so calm that when he said Buck's name, his friend answered:

"Hold on a second there Chris, it's gettin' dark and I want to watch, make sure Miss Nettie gets to Mary's all right...okay, Josiah's with her now..." He shut the door over - still wanted fresh air in that room - and went to the bed.

"How is he?"

"He moved his fingers..."

"Well - that's good. Right?"

"I don't know..." Chris wanted it to be good, but he didn't want to hope too much. "Where's Nathan? Can you find him?"

"On my way." When Buck was gone, Chris put his other hand over Vin's.

"Hey Vin, y'in there? No more lollygaggin'. Y'been sick long enough. We're waitin' on you here y'know."

"...please..."

"Vin?" Chris was determined to get through the fever. He took the cup of water and, gingerly sliding his arm under Vin's shoulders, supported him upright enough to try sips out of the cup.

"...don't leave me...Ma..."

That made Chris take a look around the small room. He was beginning to believe in ghosts more and more. He knew the flickering shadows were caused by the lamplight, but his heart still pounded seeing them.

"Vin - can you hear me? Y'gotta try drinking some water...okay?" The first try just spilled, but on the second try Vin actually swallowed. ‘Thank you Lord.' Chris thought. "Try some more." He was so careful not to give Vin too much, he didn't want to make him choke. The third sip went down easy as well.

"Chris?" His eyelids fluttered a few times, too tired to focus.

"Hey Vin...y'had us worried there..." Chris moved slightly so he could see Vin's face. "Didn't know if you was comin' back." He couldn't help grinning.

"Holdin' - holdin' on Chris..." It took two breaths to say it. "She said - to hold on." Even for the water, his voice was dry and raspy.

"Well, then you just go on ahead and hold on Vin. That's why I'm here. That's why we're all here." Chris set the cup on the other chair, and pulled his chair closer to the bed. He hugged Vin right up against his chest. "You hold on...I ain't goin' anywhere."

Part Thirty-eight

Mary was surprised to see Nettie at the paper. "I thought you'd be with Vin. Ezra and JD told me that he's worse, and Josiah was bringing you to town." She brought the older woman through the newspaper office into her home.

"Well, I was gonna stay with him - Chris is sittin' with him though. We may not be able to save Vin, sure gotta try to save Larabee if we can." But Mary didn't understand.

"What do you mean - save Chris?"

"I stopped up at Nathan's first thing, planned on sitting with Vin to the very end. But Chris is sittin' there next to him, holdin' onto one of Vin's hand...the look on his face though is terrible. If Vin dies, I don't know how much Chris has got left in his life to keep him going. Right now the only thing he has got is bein' the one with Vin till the end."

+ + + + + + +

Vin became dimly aware of his surroundings. He was in pain, hot, anxious...but he was aware of a sound, so close he wasn't sure if he was hearing it - or creating it. He paid closer attention.

It was a heartbeat.

It startled him to realize it. He tracked his body and its sensations, and began to figure out his situation. Someone held him, nearly upright, in their arms. His head rested against their chest and their heartbeat sounded in his ear. Vin hadn't been held like this since his Ma died.

Was his Ma here? He remembered talking to her. Was he still in the cabin and Ma was hugging him for the flowers he'd brought her? Maybe she waited for him after all and now he was finally with her again. It'd been so long and he'd tried so hard to keep going, walking through a life that was too hard too often. But maybe now it was over, and he didn't have to hold on anymore.

Maybe it was his Pa though. The fabric under his cheek was rough and the voice that occasionally rumbled alongside the heartbeat was deeper than a woman's voice. It couldn't be though, not after his whole life, that his Pa had hold of him and was keeping watch while he slept. That would be too much. There'd been a lot of things in his life that Vin wanted that he knew were too unlikely to ever happen, but he'd still wished for them. He'd never once let himself wish that he could be with his Pa. The emptiness of never knowing him was too great and too painful to risk the hope. Better to know that it would never happen. Better to keep your back to it and walk away.

Still, it was somebody. Vin knew if he put his mind to it, he could think of who it might be, protecting him, comforting him. But he was too tired, in too much pain to think on it right now. He just listened to the heartbeat and let it ease him back to sleep.

+ + + + + + +

Chris tried to not let it worry him whenever Vin moved, straightened, or relaxed in his arms. Tried to tell himself Vin was just restless, fidgety. They were calm movements, made in sleep. They weren't the agonized twitching he'd seen so many men go through as they died on a bullet. Still, he wished Nathan would hurry up and get there.

"Nathan's comin' real soon." Chris said, not sure if Vin could hear him or not. "Buck went to get him." The quilt was still wrapped around Vin, and Chris supported most of his weight against himself. He thought maybe he'd lay Vin back in bed before the others came back. First he told himself it was to spare Vin the embarrassment, but he knew - it was to spare himself. He'd felt awkward enough holding Vin's hand in front of Buck, or when Josiah had come upon him cradling Vin on the floor. He could lay Vin back in bed and nobody would know anything different.

But Vin was asleep, content, breathing easier sitting up than laying down, trusting Chris with more than just his life. Chris wasn't about to betray that trust for anything or anyone, including himself. He adjusted the quilt that didn't need adjusting and gently patted Vin's arm.

"You keep holdin' on Vin. I ain't goin' anywhere."

+ + + + + + +

Nathan wasn't as optimistic as Buck was hoping when he found the healer at the saloon, taking a few minutes to catch his breath and have a beer before heading back to his patient. "Buck, he's been delirious and twitchy for a day and a half now. I hope it's something good - I just wouldn't count on it."

"Well - you're gonna come back and have a look ain't you? It MIGHT be somethin'..."

"Yeah, I'm comin', I'm comin'..." Nathan wearily pushed himself away from the table and followed Buck out of the saloon.

+ + + + + + +

As soon as he heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, Chris decided firmly and irrevocably that he was a coward, and he gently laid Vin back onto the bed. Vin stirred at the movement and the loss of the sound of the heartbeat. He mumbled something that Chris didn't understand. "I'm still here Pard, just gettin' y'settled back down..."

Buck burst into the room then. "How is he? Anything else happen?" He was almost breathless in his concern.

"He came to a few minutes ago, took some water..." Chris added that louder as Nathan came in a few steps later. "Talked a little bit."

"Okay, let me in there and get a look at him." Nathan was only a little more encouraged then he'd been when Buck got him. Chris stood up and out of the way. "I'm hopin' that abscess will be big enough for me to drain..." He looked back at Buck, and motioned him to take Chris outside.

"C'mon Chris..." Buck said. He put his hand on Chris' arm and gently urged him outside. "Let's us get you some air...we'll keep the door open. C'mon now..." Chris let himself be led outside, he leaned back against the railing directly opposite the open door. Buck noticed the damp wrinkles on the front of Chris' shirt. He knew immediately what they meant. "Well, look who's the softie..." Chris batted his hand away and kept his eyes on the inside of the clinic.

Part Thirty-nine

Somewhere in the pain, darkness, and fear, Vin realized the heartbeat was gone. Whoever it was, his Ma or Pa, or the somebody he'd been to tired to figure out - they were gone. He was alone.

‘How come I always got to be alone?' but he didn't know who he was putting the question to. "What'd I do so bad that nobody wants to be with me? What'd I do so bad that I gotta spend my nights in a stall in the livery, or in a borrowed bed, or out in the cold and damp and lonely? I was a good kid - she said I was. What'd I do so bad that I'm all alone? How come I got nobody to look out for me? How come I always got to be alone and nobody to talk to? It ain't fair. It ain't fair."

‘Y'stupid little shit...' the voice snarled so close, Vin didn't know if it was in his head or in his ear. ‘Nobody wants a stupid little bastard shit come dirtyin' up their property, playin' with decent folks' younguns. I'll learn you where y'belong..."

And Vin tried to run from his dead grandfather.

+ + + + + + +

"Buck - you come in here a second?" Nathan's voice propelled Buck through the open door, Chris a scant step behind him.

"What is it Nathan?"

"It's too dark in here, I need more lamps. Candles, anything."

"Is it bad?" Chris asked. Vin was twitching again, moaning softly.

"I got to see if I can drain that abscess yet. I need more light. A lot more."

"I'll be right back." Buck was out the door, hollering for JD before he even got to the street below.

"What can I do?" Chris asked.

"Keep him still while I have a look, don't need him thrashin' while I'm pokin' around his throat."

Chris sat on the edge of the bed and got hold of Vin's hands through the blankets. He noticed then how dark it was outside, and how dim the light was thrown from the single lamp. "Y'ain't gonna do anything till y'got more light, are you?" he asked.

"Don't worry Chris - I'm just havin' a look right now. This ain't gonna hurt him none. Just got to open his mouth..."

+ + + + + + +

‘Worthless little shit...ain't worth your feed. We'd be better feedin' them scraps to the chickens, ‘least they earn their keep.'

Vin had no argument. He believed the words hissed at him in the darkness. Worthless. He was worthless. No reason for him even to be alive on this earth. It wouldn't take much and he could be with his Ma, and this whole pot of stinking misery would be over forever. It wouldn't take much.

‘Worthless stupid little shit.'

But it would take more weakness than Vin had in him. ‘I ain't a little shit.' He mouthed off to his dead grandfather. ‘I ain't shit an' you can't call me that.'

‘I'll learn y'to sass your betters, y'little shit.' The ominous growl in his voice frightened Vin more than anything. He looked around for help from somewhere. His grandmother, the neighbors, the dirty knot of laughing boys, even Mrs. McGinty, muddy and dripping in her dying dress, stood and watched and did nothing. He was alone. ‘You come here an' I'll learn you good, little shit...'

The heart beat. Vin knew if he could just hear that heart beat again, he'd be safe. Whose heartbeat was it? He couldn't remember. Somebody who'd protect him, that's all that mattered. Without it, he wasn't safe. But it was too late. He felt his grandfather grab his hands and start to force his mouth open, to punish him with soap, or worse. And all the eyes stared at him. And no one moved to help him. He was alone.

+ + + + + + +

"I don't think he likes to be held down Nathan." Chris felt Vin struggle weakly against him.

"It'll just take a minute Chris. He ain't lettin' me open his mouth neither. C'mon Vin..." Even though he figured the tracker couldn't hear him. "...just let me have a look..." Emerging onto the edge of wakefulness, Vin turned his head away.

"Make him stop...please...somebody...make him stop..." His voice was soft and anguished.

"C'mon Vin, you can hear me. I ain't gonna hurt you. Let me just check your throat." Nathan was gentle and patient, but Vin kept his head turned away.

"Please - somebody please..." His body shook with dry sobs. "God, please, don't let him hurt me no more. I can't - please - I can't..."

"Vin..." Nathan tried again, but Chris cut him off.

"Nathan, give him a minute. You're scaring him."

"Chris, I gotta check that abscess..."

"Well, is it gonna matter if you wait a couple minutes?" Chris didn't think Vin was talking about Nathan - he wondered if he was trapped ‘there' with his terror. Nathan stood back a minute and watched Vin. Watched Chris tend to him. Chris wrung the rag out in fresh water and laid it on Vin's forehead.

"It's okay Pard, it's just you and me. You're safe here...c'mon and look at me. Nobody's gonna do nothin' you don't want ‘em to." Nathan held back a sigh of frustration at Chris' words. Robbing that bank was looking more and more like a good idea if it meant he could keep Chris busy long enough to tend to Vin proper.

+ + + + + + +

Suddenly they were all gone. His grandparents, his neighbors, even poor Mrs. McGinty was gone off somewhere. All that remained was the group of boys, standing, staring at him. The leader of the boys looked different and familiar. Vin knew better than to expect to be allowed in their circle again. But he couldn't help hoping for it. He was alone.

+ + + + + + +

"Vin? Can you hear me? Look at me Vin. You've gotta hold on Pard. You been sick too long, now. C'mon and look at me." Chris didn't try to force Vin to turn toward him. Slowly though, blue eyes dull with pain and dehydration met his. "Hey Vin...are you holdin' on?"

A movement, almost a twitch, almost too slight to be seen in the lamplight, but Vin nodded, not taking his eyes off Chris.

"You gonna let Nathan have a look at your throat?"

Another nod. Barely.

"Okay, it won't take too long, then we'll get you some more water." Satisfied that Vin was going to cooperate, Chris stood and let Nathan get in closer to his patient. He'd only just touched Vin's face though when Vin swung out, hoarsely yelling at him.

"I'll kill you. You touch me again I'll kill you. I ain't no little kid no more. You got no right - you got no right..."

Nathan easily avoided the blows and Chris was at his side in an instant to firmly take Vin's hands into his own. He hated distressing Vin anymore, but he had to keep him safe. Vin struggled to sit up, to get away, to fight off his tormentor, but to no avail. He screamed - a weak, desperate sound that sent a knife through both Chris and Nathan.

"Vin - it's allright - it's us - your Grandpa ain't here..."

"Vin - ain't nobody gonna hurt you..."

The two men tried to calm and comfort Vin. It didn't work. As he took another breath to let out another scream, Vin choked, and a panicked look came into his eyes.

"Sit him up!" Nathan commanded and Chris pulled him upright. It didn't seem like Vin was breathing. Then with a couple of rapid inhalations and one harsh cough, Vin spat a mouthful of pus and blood down the front of himself and Chris.

"NATHAN?" Chris demanded.

"It's all right Chris, it's a good thing." Nathan turned to grab some towels. "It means the abscess ruptured on it's own. Just keep him upright for a minute..." He washed Vin's face, who promptly coughed up another sickening mess. Nathan gave up the struggle fast. "Let's lay him down on his side, so's it can drain and not go into his lungs..." Vin resisted being laid down. He gripped Chris' sleeves and stared at him, as though trying to figure out who he was. Chris looked straight at him.

"Vin? You with us on this? You're gonna choke again we don't lay you down...okay? Nice and slow...I ain't goin' nowhere..." he added when Vin wouldn't let go. "Nice and slow." Vin kept his eyes on Chris until he was back down on the mattress and turned on his side, as close to the edge of the bed as they dared place him.

"Here Chris, hold this towel underneath him when he coughs again...least till we can get you a clean shirt...think we're going to have to burn that one."

"What about Vin?" Chris knelt by the side of the bed to be at a closer level with Vin. He didn't care about his own clothes. "He's got it all over himself too."

"Soon's his coughing slows up, we'll get him cleaned up. Right now it's just better to let that abscess drain as much as possible."

Vin coughed again, a croupy cough, and Chris held the towel close to his mouth as more blood and pus came up. Chris told himself he had to believe Nathan, had to trust him that all this blood was a good thing. But it was a hard sell.

"You hold on Vin..." He put his free hand on Vin's arm, hoping to offer some comfort. "You'll be allright."

+ + + + + + +

The leader of the knot of boys approached Vin, who stood stock still, wondering what was about to happen, gearing himself up to run if necessary. But the boy, tall, blond, in dark clothes, grinned at him and reached out to take hold of his arm. Beyond him the five other boys approached as well. "Hold on." he said to Vin.

The hacking cough stopped, and Chris folded the towel to wipe Vin's mouth. A pale, shaking hand came up from under the blankets and wrapped itself around Chris' wrist. Surprised, Chris looked into Vin's face. Those dull blue eyes looked back at him.

"Holdin' on." Vin whispered.

Part Forty

Vin tried hard not to cough. It hurt. It seemed to be connected to every sore muscle in his body because each one of them complained every time he coughed. It felt like his brain was coming loose, and he wasn't too fond of the taste it left in his mouth either. He tried hard not to cough.

He was disoriented, seemed he was just in the corner, hiding from his grandfather. But, no - - he was safe from his Grandpa. Who'd been there? Nothing hurt then, when he was comfortable and sleeping on the floor... No, he'd been in the bed. Somebody was with him when he was sleeping in the bed, sleeping being held. The heart beat, that kept him safe. It was his Pa, didn't he somehow figure that? His Pa had been here to look out for him while he was sleeping. Was he here now?

"Pa?" He felt his hand resting around someone's arm. His mind told him it wasn't his Pa, but he couldn't recollect who else might be there. Who else would be watching out for him? "Pa?"

+ + + + + + +

As he wiped the latest mess off of Vin's mouth, Chris bent down even more to catch the brittle whisper, but he didn't understand what Vin was saying. He patted the hand that held his wrist. "Hey Pard, you with me? I can't hear what you're saying..." Vin opened his eyes and saw the familiar face that he couldn't remember just now. He only knew it wasn't his Pa.

"You want some water Vin?" Chris asked. "I'll help you drink it..." Vin nodded, then coughed again.

+ + + + + + + Ezra hurried up the stairs to tell Nathan that Buck and JD were gathering every lamp and jar of oil they could find, and Josiah was emptying his church of every candle. He stopped at the open door though, and watched the little scene taking place inside the dimly lit room. Nathan was at the cupboard, mixing powder from a jar into a cup of water. Chris sat on the floor right next to the bed, very close to Vin, gently wiping his face with a towel that quickly turned bloody. He was saying something very softly to Vin, who nodded slightly then proceeded to cough up what Ezra could only surmise must've been most of his internal organs.

Still gently, softly, Chris held the towel up for Vin to cough into, one hand lightly resting on his shoulder. For comfort, Ezra imagined, since it wasn't for support. He noticed that Chris looked pale and spent from lack of sleep, his hair fell into his eyes and he needed a shave. The man Ezra had once referred to as porcupine was wearing himself out to care for a sick friend.

When the coughing fit was over, Chris set the towel aside and turned for a clean one to wipe opff the blood and pus, but they were just out of reach on the table behind him. He was about to ask Nathan when he saw the gambler in the open doorway.

"Ezra - would you hand me..." He pointed to the pile.

"Certainly..." Ezra hurried to the table and handed a few of them down. It was then that he got a good look at the front of Chris and what Vin had done to him. It made Ezra want to gag. "Mr. Larabee, if you would be so good as to give me the key to your room, I'll gladly find you a suitable replacement for your current attire which, if I am not mistaken, would be enough to make even the strongest stomach falter."

Chris looked down at himself and smiled a little as he fished the key out of his pocket. "I ‘preciate it Ez..."

"Believe me Mr. Larabee, it is you who are doing me the favor...is he allright? That's quite a large amount of blood to be expectorating, is it not?" He looked to Chris for the answer, but Nathan spoke behind them.

"The abscess ruptured, it's gotta drain awhile. The blood's slowin' down. I still need those lamps and candles though, got t'see if I need to open it any more..."

The urge to gag hit Ezra again. "A highly unpleasant task no doubt. If I see any of our compatriots, I will hurry their steps..." He gripped the key so hard, it hurt. He wanted to do something else, something more, but he couldn't think of anything. "I shall return momentarily with your change of clothes Mr. Larabee..." and he was gone.

Nathan watched him go. "Buck told me Ezra took pretty good care of Vin last night." Nathan said. "Wouldn't really expect it of him." He looked over at Chris, who was holding a cup of water for Vin to drink, and thought ‘Didn't expect it of you neither...'

+ + + + + + + The water tasted good, but swallowing hurt worse now than it did before, and Vin coughed a little on the dragging sensation as it went down. Lord, his whole body was on fire and ice and gravel from the feel of it. Even his skin hurt. He thought he'd give anything to feel a breeze on him right now. It was dark and the flame in the oil lamp didn't even flicker. How long was he stuck here in this room? How many days? It was always dark when he opened his eyes...except when it was daylight...except when he found himself in hell. He took a few cautious breaths, testing to see how long he could go without coughing. Who was that sitting next to him?

"Chris?" He didn't know where the name came from, but it sounded right, and Chris bent down again to meet his eyes.

"How're you doin' Vin?"

"Hurts, everything hurts."

"Nathan'll give you something to make it stop."

"...'kay..." He didn't cough, so it didn't hurt so much, so he closed his eyes, and rested awhile knowing that he was safe, and Chris was looking out for him.

Part Forty-one

Nettie came back with Buck, Ezra, and JD. They carried lamps, lamp oil, candles, towels, clean clothes, longjohns, pillow cases - and hope. They came into the clinic and, under Nathan's direction, deposited their offerings on any available flat surface. Nettie had a stack of towels, but held onto them as she took the chair she'd declined earlier. Chris still sat on the floor next to the bed. He had a clean towel in his hand, ready for the next coughing spell.

"How is he?" she asked Chris. Vin was sleeping, it looked like anyway. His breathing sounded easier.

"Nathan said he's doing good. Abscess ruptured and it's draining. He wants to get a better look at it though." They spoke quietly. "He needs more light for that. Don't want to go poking around the back of a man's throat in the dark..." Chris looked at Nettie, really looked at her, and saw the mixed expression of pain, relief, affection, worry, and strength on her face as she reached out to lightly lay her hand on Vin's cheek.

"Fever hasn't gone down though has it?"

"Not yet." Chris saw it then, what Nettie had given up when she walked out the door earlier. He knew how it felt to not be there when someone you loved died, to lose someone you didn't have the chance to say goodbye to. She'd risked that for him, for Chris. Realizing that, Chris was embarrassed, and touched. The woman was stronger - and softer - than he'd ever given her credit for.

"Nettie, you gonna be here awhile? I gotta change outta these clothes. Think I might take bath while I'm at it..." Chris knew he wasn't offering to Nettie what she'd given him; didn't seem like Vin was in danger of dying now.

"I'll be with him Chris. You go on, take care of yourself. I'll help Nathan get Vin cleaned up."

"Thank you Nettie."

It didn't surprise Chris anymore how stiff he was when he pushed himself up off the floor. The aches and pains, combined with the mess on his shirt, made a nice, hot bath sound pretty good right about now. Maybe something to eat and a quick nap on the cot - -. Chris stopped dead. He'd heard the footsteps, but it still surprised him to turn and be faced with so many people. Nobody said anything for a moment, till Ezra broke the silence, stepping forward with the bundle of clothes for Chris, and the key to his room.

"Mr. Larabee, if you do not immediately and thoroughly cleanse yourself of the disgusting mess currently adorning your shirt, I shall find it necessary to take my life in my hands and douse you with the bucket of water I fortuitously find at my feet."

Chris grinned. "You could try Ezra, you could try." He was about to take the clothes from him when Buck intercepted.

"Ain't gonna do you no good Chris to get the clean clothes all dirty. Let me take ‘em for you. C'mon, we'll get you all cleaned up." He let Chris lead the way out. "JD, you stick close, you hear? Keep an eye on things." Buck knew it wasn't necessary, but it made JD feel good.

"I will Buck." JD stood taller under the responsibility.

"Well, Mr. Jackson..." Ezra asked as the two men left the room. "Is there anything else you require immediately? I believe we have purged this town of every means of illumination, as well as every stick of firewood, blanket and pillow case we could lay our hands on. If there is any way of which we can be of further assistance -"

"I want you to hold him down while I see if I need to lance that abscess any more." Nathan said, and his statement left Ezra in mid-sentence, wondering how he could take back what he just said. Next to him, JD got busy with matches.

"I'll start lighting all these candles..." the kid said.

"I'll help you take care of him, Nathan." Nettie said. Ezra was about to bless her when Nathan spoke again.

"Naah, Miss Nettie. He gets violent. Wouldn't want you to get hurt. C'mon Ezra. This won't take but a minute."

Still, Ezra took a minute, trying to figure out how he'd placed himself in this predicament, before following Nathan to the bed.

"Feels good to get some air." Chris said as they reached the bottom of the steps. "Awful close in that room."

"Yeah, even with the door and windows open, got no breeze in there." They made their way down the darkened boardwalk. "Y'know Chris, the bathhouse might be closed this time a' night."

"I think I still got time...if not, I'll just wash up at my room."

"I bet Mary'd let you take a bath at her place if you was to ask her real nice." Buck said. Chris shook his head, but a smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

"What's been going on in town?" he asked, to change the subject.

"Not much...Josiah said he'd take a turn around town, check on things. Other than that, the only real excitement was an attempted robbery at Miz Potter's..." Buck said it casually.

"What?" The news surprised Chris. "When? What happened? Gloria wasn't hurt, was she? Y'arrested them, didn't you? Why is JD up at the clinic when he should be guarding the prisoners?" He started to turn to head to the jail, but Buck stopped him.

"Hold on Chris, pull in them quills. Give me a minute to tell you..." Buck fished in his pockets and pulled out a piece of paper. "Ezra styled it so pretty, I had him write it down so's I could tell you proper." He took a step or two till he could read in the lamplight coming through a window. "It says here ‘a...juvenile...miscreant..." Buck read slowly, sounding some of the words out. "...undertook...to...abscond...with a trifling amount of... confectionary... goods.'"

"What the hell?" Chris had to ask, and Buck grinned.

"Some poor little shaver tried to make off with a handful of licorice whips. So Miz Potter moved the jar up onto a shelf, and he tried to climb up to get it. Brought the jar, two shelves and all the goods crashing down onto the floor. His mother got to him before we could, and we figured she'd do a better job of settin' him on the straight n'narrow than we ever could."

"Oh." Chris relaxed, realizing it hadn't been a true robbery. "It wasn't one of the O'Brien's, was it?"

"Ha! No, guess maybe they're too sick to cause mischief." Buck told him.

"Another prayer answered." Chris said.

+ + + + + + +

Nettie moved out of the way, and Nathan and Ezra gently turned Vin onto his back. His eyes fluttered open and settled on the mass of candles burning on the table next to the bed. "Fire." It was barely a whisper.

Ezra sat on the edge of the bed while Nathan turned to check his instruments. "I assure you Mr. Tanner, that while we may appear to be in the grip of a wild conflagration, it is merely our own Mr. Dunne hastening to provide Mr. Jackson with as much illumination as possible for the express purpose of examining the current condition of your illness." Ezra's explanation was met by a confused silence and questioning eyes.

"Fire?" Vin tried again.

"No Vin, no fire. Just candles. You don't have to worry...about that...how does your throat feel at present?" Ezra hoped to get out of his enforced service; maybe Nathan wouldn't have to check at all.

"Hurts real bad." he said. "Wish it would stop hurting." Ezra saw Nathan examine a scalpel and shuddered for himself and for Vin.

"Well, soon perhaps. It may well hurt a little more at first, but I have every confidence that soon it will stop hurting."

"What?" Vin's voice rose with anxiety. He scanned the room and Ezra guessed he was looking for Chris. "Don't want it to hurt..." Ezra looked to Nettie for assistance. She came back to the bed and Vin saw her. "Nettie? Don't want it to hurt..."

"I'm sorry honey. It's gotta hurt just a little bit more just a little bit longer. Nathan's got to make sure all the infection is out." Vin stared at her, but Nettie could tell that he was understanding her. "Now you can't make a fuss Vin. You gotta let Nathan take of you. You can't fight him, y'understand? The easier you let him take care of you, the sooner it'll be over. Allright?" But Vin didn't answer; he scanned the room again. Fear showed plainly on his face "Honey, I'll be honest. You ain't gonna like this. But it's got to be done."

As she attempted to persuade Vin, Ezra went to Nathan who was still checking his instruments against an old medical book. JD looked on. "Nathan, may I suggest to you that it might be unwise to undertake this procedure in the absence of Mr. Larabee?"

Nathan looked from Ezra to Vin and back again. "Tell me Ezra, do you think it would be wise to undertake to cut into the back of Vin's throat if Chris WAS in the room?"

Ezra had to agree. "Point taken." A thought occured to him, but JD read his mind and beat him to it.

"Nathan, I'll keep an eye out for Chris at the stairs." JD said and he was out the door. Ezra sighed, and unwillingly went back to the bed.

+ + + + + + +

Buck stayed with Chris while he took a bath, shaved, changed his clothes and had something to eat at the boardinghouse. He filled Chris in on his latest dalliance, paying close and exact attention to each and every detail. But underneath the conversation, Buck kept a close eye on Chris and how he seemed to be doing. He was tired, no doubt about that. Once they were back at the clinic, Buck'd make sure Chris got some sleep. Now that Vin was OK, Chris couldn't object to sleeping a little while. At least he was eating, slowly and without much interest, but he was eating.

"Real glad Vin's doin' better." Buck finally said, as his story ran down. Chris nodded. "Take him awhile to get back on his feet, I reckon."

"Be winter soon." Chris observed. "It'll give him a reason to sleep indoors anyway." He couldn't tell if he was full or just too tired to eat anymore. He stared down at the food without eating anymore.

"Y'about set?" Buck asked. Chris nodded again. "Allright, c'mon let's head back." They stood up from the table and slowly made their way outside. They could see a lamp in the newspaper office as they walked toward Nathan's. Buck shook his head.

"Bet there's a lotta things Mary'd let you do at her place, if you was to ask her real nice."

Part Forty-two

Ezra couldn't do it. He couldn't hold Vin still while Nathan used his scalpel to open the abscess more. It wasn't the overall revolting admixture of suppuration and gore that covered Vin - and threatened to cover Ezra - it wasn't Vin's weak struggling, it wasn't the heat from the candles mixed with the indescribable smell in the clinic making Ezra want to gag. It wasn't even the fear on Vin's face as he frantically looked around the small room for someone - for Chris - to help him. It was the way Vin's frail voice cracked as he begged "....please...somebody...please..." Nathan hadn't even gotten a look at the abscess yet, much less started to do anything. "...don't let him hurt me... please... somebody..."

As Nathan finished checking his instruments, and medical books, Ezra came to a sudden decision. "I can't." He stood up abruptly, releasing his hold on Vin. "We may be putting ourselves in mortal peril by attempting this procedure in the presence of Mr. Larabee, but I will not be party to terrorizing a sick man."

" ‘Terrorize?'" Nathan asked. "Ezra, I gotta get a look at it, if it ain't draining proper, I gotta open it."

A moment's pause while Ezra gathered his courage. "I won't let you."

"What?" Nathan couldn't believe this was happening, how resolute Ezra stood before him.

"You boys mind tellin' me what the hold up is?" Nettie asked. "We gonna do this or not?" Nathan shook his head and seemed ready to proceed with or without Ezra's help.

"Nathan..." Ezra put his hand on Nathan's arm to stop him.

"Ezra - I ain't gonna harm him, I gotta do this."

"I know you aren't going to harm him - but he doesn't know that. All he knows is that you are about to inflict pain on him and he's terrified. Surely you've been in similar situations..." Ezra knew Nathan had. "Will the physical benefit of ascertaining the state of his illness outweigh the probable damage inflicted on him emotionally if you proceed against his will?"

Nathan looked down at Vin. He was quiet now, but held himself stiff, like he was trying to judge the movement next to the bed. Yeah, Lord knew, Nathan'd been there, in danger of physical harm or even death, and no one to stand up for him...except that first day they were all together in town.

"Allright Ezra, I won't do nothin'. Long as it seems to keep drainin', I'll leave him be."

"Thank you Mr. Jackson." Ezra breathed. Beside them, Nettie hmmpffed.

"Well, you better blow them candles out, seein's you don't need ‘em. I declare, if I ran my farm the way you run this clinic, I'd be keeping horses in the hen house and planting potatoes by moonlight...well, we gonna get him cleaned up or leave him like he is?"

+ + + + + + +

Buck walked half a step behind Chris, trying to keep an eye on him down the darkened street. He was tired, they both were. Buck was looking forward to peace and quiet and sleep. Now that it seemed Vin was on the mend, Buck figured he could sleep without jumping at every footstep, afraid that someone was coming to say that Vin had slipped away. He'd make Chris get some rest on the cot too, if he wouldn't leave the clinic, he'd have Nathan go get a decent night's sleep in a real bed and maybe, if Nettie was set on staying with Vin, Buck could do the same. They trudged up the clinic stairs as Nathan walked out to dump a basin of water over the railing. "What is it with you and Ezra anyway?" he asked Chris, who had no idea what he was talking about.

"What?"

"I'm gettin' set to look at that abscess, figured Vin'd be wore out enough he couldn't put up much of a struggle -"

"You didn't do that without me here?" Chris demanded. "I thought you'd wait for me - I never woulda left -" He was about to head into the clinic but Nathan stopped him.

"Hold on Chris - I didn't touch him..." Then he said the thing that none of them, himself included, could believe. "Ezra wouldn't let me." There was a definite moment of surprised silence.

"Ezra." Chris finally said, his voice flat with disbelief.

"Ezra." Nathan repeated.

"Kept you from treating a patient." Buck said.

"Yep. Ezra. Vin was scared and calling for help. Ezra said it wouldn't be right to scare him anymore. "

Buck just shook his head, and Chris was too tired to do even that. The three of them turned and went into the little room.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra was gathering up the laundry, looking decidedly pale in the glow of lamplight. JD and Nettie were getting Vin settled on his side again. Vin caught sight of Chris and the pain and anxiety in his face cleared as he looked at his friend expectantly. He could see Chris pretty clear, though his eyes were kinda dry. He recognized him and remembered his name, only his throat hurt too bad to try to say it out loud.

First thing through the door, Chris' eyes and footsteps had gone to Vin. He grinned when he saw that Vin was awake and paying attention. " It's ‘bout time you woke up Tanner. You slept away two whole days. Think it's about time you got back to work?"

Vin nodded. He wanted to close his eyes, but didn't want to lose sight of Chris. He followed with his eyes as Chris came to sit on the edge of the bed. Nettie resumed her chair next to them.

"How you doin' Vin? Still hurts?"

Another nod.

"Nathan give you anything for it?"

No...Vin shook his head.

"You gonna LET Nathan give you anything for it?"

Vin took awhile to answer, finally nodded. Then took a stabbing breath to rasp: "Won't gargle though, that's for damn sure."

There was scattered laughter and a sigh of mock annoyance from Nathan as he got the medicine ready. Buck put his arm around JD's shoulders. "You go on home now JD, you look ‘bout ready to drop. Been sleepin' out on this porch two nights now...go on home and get some sleep."

"OK. I'll be back in the morning."

"Thanks JD, for all your help." Nathan told him. Having JD there had made it a lot easier to take care of Vin. Chris turned to smile his thanks as well, and saw that Ezra was preparing to leave.

"Hold on Vin, I'll be right back. Just gotta talk to Ezra."

The look on Ezra's face showed that he was a trifle concerned at the prospect that Chris Larabee wanted to ‘talk' with him, but they went onto the porch together.

"Just wanted to thank you for standin' up for Vin in there. Nathan told me. I wouldn't have let Nathan do anything Vin didn't want him to. I ‘preciate that you did the same."

Now Ezra's face clearly showed his confusion and self-consciousness. "Yes, well, umm..." He finally gave into the truth. Meeting Chris' eyes, he said plainly: "I know what it's like to be alone."

Chris accepted this and nodded. "Y'ain't alone no more Ezra..." Then he turned and went back to Vin. Ezra stood there several long moments, frozen in disbelief, before following JD to home and sleep. He whistled as he walked down the darkened street.

Part Forty-three

Three a.m. and Josiah couldn't sleep. He believed that when a person couldn't sleep, it meant that someone else was in need of one of the spiritual or corporal works of mercy. Right now he figured that could be only one person, so he got up, got dressed, and made his way to Nathan's clinic. He'd stayed away most of the day, mostly to keep out of Nathan's way since so many other people seemed to be traipsing in and out of there so often. JD kept him informed of Vin's progress, each report of improvement another prayer answered.

He could see a light through the clinic window so he knew someone was sitting up with Vin - Chris or Nettie, or both. To his surprise, when he opened the door, Josiah discovered it was neither - Chris was asleep on the cot, and Nettie was asleep in the chair. That wouldn't do, so Josiah gently woke her up.

"Josiah - what time is it?"

"It's about three in the morning Miz Wells. Think it's about time I took you back to Mary's and you get yourself some real sleep, I'll stay with Vin the rest of the night. Come back tomorrow when you and Vin can both be awake at the same time."

"I can take myself Josiah." she said as she stood up from the chair. "I don't want that boy alone."

"Ma'am, Chris has got one ear open right now, if Vin so much as blinks, Chris'll know. I am not about to let a lady walk these streets alone at this time of night."

Nettie chuckled a little at being called ‘a lady'. She checked Vin one last time, made sure the lamp was secure on the table, ran a quick eye over Chris, then let Josiah escort her down to the newspaper.

+ + + + + + +

Lord, the air was heavy in that clinic. Vin woke up slowly, feeling himself having to pull each breath in. It wasn't that he couldn't breathe, it was that he didn't want to. The heat and the smells and the just plain staleness of the air was powerful, he'd give anything right now to have fresh air. He listened for the sounds in the room, just soft breathing across the way. Chris. He'd slept near him enough times on the trail to recognize him, and to recognize that he was deeply asleep. Maybe, just maybe, if he was real quiet, he could sneak out onto the balcony and Chris wouldn't hear a thing.

Vin got as far as pushing the blankets back and was too wore out to anything else. So he lay on his back and stared at the shadows cast on the ceiling by the oil lamp. He was still determined to get out into the fresh air, he just was gonna have to do it a little bit at a time.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah walked back into the clinic to find Vin awake, and trying once more to push the blankets back further off his body. He walked to the bed and towered above his sick friend. "You mind telling me what it is you're up to?" he asked quietly.

"AIR." It was all that Vin cared about.

"You havin' trouble breathin'?" Josiah was instantly concerned.

"Just want fresh air."

"I'll open the door -" Josiah started to offer. But Vin had been stuck in this room for two days now, and in Chris' room the day before that. Couldn't blame a man - especially this man - for wanting to be outside. "Think you can walk if I help you?" Vin nodded eagerly. "All right, let's NOT wake up Chris." He got Vin sitting up, wrapped the quilt around his shoulders and helped him walk to the balcony stairs. It took some doing and Josiah felt better once they were out the clinic door and farther away from Chris.

"You holdin' up Vin?"

"Holdin' on..." By the time Josiah helped him sit on the top step, Vin was trembling from the exertion, trying hard to catch his breath.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea." Josiah said.

"No, this is perfect." Vin said. His voice rasped and he coughed. The town was dark, here and there they could see the flickers of the street fires. A few people moved through the darkened boardwalks.

"You warm enough?" Josiah looked over the quilt to make sure Vin was all nice and tucked in.

"Yeah...just wanted some air."

So they sat for awhile, in the darkness. Josiah kept a hand on Vin's back to steady him. Vin took a few deep breaths till it hurt his throat. His eyes fell closed all by themselves so he folded his arms across his knees and laid his head down. He drifted in and out of a light sleep for awhile then abruptly pushed himself up.

"Y'know, nobody ever took care a'me when I'm sick, not the way Nathan and y'all have been doin'."

"You ever been THIS sick before?" Josiah asked.

"Oh yeah, when I'm a little guy. Used to get sore throats all the time."

"And nobody took care of you?" Josiah knew Vin's grandparents were hard people, but even they couldn't be that hard.

"Naah, they never did. I'd tell her, I'd tell my Grandma ‘I don't feel good.' and she'd just yell back at me ‘well I don't feel good neither, who's gonna take care a'me?'" He shrugged.

"It was wrong of her to say that to you Vin. You were a little boy, she should've looked after you."

"No, I was just bad." Vin settled his head on his arms again. "Didn't know how not to be bad. Tried real hard, just never figured out what I was doin' so wrong...air feels good." He drifted off again with a soft sigh. Josiah lightly stroked his back through the quilt. He decided not argue that Vin wasn't a bad kid for being sick - he thought that arguing the point might make Vin keep quiet, and Josiah hoped to coax it all out of him.

"How long I been sick?" Vin asked a few minutes later as he pushed himself up again.

"Well, I guess it's been three or four days now since your throat started hurtin' you."

"Hmm...don't remember most of it." Vin tried to scrub the sleep out of his eyes, and ran a hand over his face. "I need a shave."

"We can take care of that in the morning."

Vin looked around the dark, restless town. "This is morning." and Josiah squinted at him.

"LATER in the morning."

"Ohh, OK." He laid his head back down. Josiah kept his hand on him, just resting there so Vin would know he wasn't alone. Suddenly, Vin laughed.

"What's so funny?" Josiah had to ask.

"Chris." Vin said without lifting his head.

"Why is Chris so funny?"

"His name." Vin sat up again. "He don't look like no Christopher."

"You don't look much like Vincent either." Josiah told him and Vin had to consider it.

"I look more like a Vincent than he does a Christopher...can I call you Joe?"

"Not and live." Josiah wondered what was making Vin silly - being sick, being tired, or just being alive. Vin grinned at him before turning to look around again at the town.

"Sure is a nice night...ain't gonna be warm at night much longer." He kept the quilt snug around himself. "Don't like snow much anymore."

"How come?"

"Harder to hide your tracks...liked it on account a'that when I was bounty huntin', don't like it now's it's my tracks...feels good to get fresh air." Vin took a deep breath. "Air was t'get any thicker in that room, you'd need a pitchfork just to get through it... Josiah, you think I'm goin' t'Hell?"

Even in the darkness, Josiah couldn't hide his surprise at the question, as much for it's suddenness as it's topic. "What do you think?" Vin's eyes narrowed as he puzzled this out.

"What do I think ‘am I goin' t'Hell?', or what do I think YOU think ‘am I goin' t'Hell?'?" Not that Vin was drunk, but one of the reasons Josiah could follow what he was saying was because he'd learned to follow the wayward thoughts of drunken men.

"Vin, do you think you're going to Hell?" and Vin nodded solemnly.

"Yeah."

"Because of the men you've killed?"

Now Vin shook his head. "...because of the buffalo..." He put his head back down, only an instant, then sat back up. "Josiah? Could I have some water? Awful thirsty."

"Sure, you be all right till I get back?"

"Sure...'less I get a better offer..."

"I'll be right back." Josiah stood slowly and waited a moment to see if Vin would stay relatively upright all on his own. Satisfied that there was no immediate danger, Josiah went into the clinic to get a cup of water. He found Chris sitting up on the cot, head bent down, trying to hear the conversation. He looked up when Josiah came in.

"How's he doing?" he whispered.

"Talkative...thirsty."

"Is he all right?"

"Yeah..." Josiah poured the water. "I reckon he'll be wearin' himself out pretty soon and I'll bring him back in to sleep. Think his fever's gone down. He seems lucid... relatively... we're just gonna sit and hopefully have a nice talk."

"There's still something twisting in him though, ain't there?" Chris asked.

"Near as I can tell..." Josiah said and Chris sighed. "C'mon now Chris, he may not be outta the woods, but he's surely on the edge of the clearing. We'll get him home safe and sound...now I better get this water out to him ‘fore he wanders off."

"Yeah." Chris laid down and turned to face the wall, and waited until Josiah was almost out the door before adding: "Thanks...Joe." Vin drank all the water down in a few swallows. "Thanks." he said again.

"You want some more?"

"Not right now...so - you think I'm goin' t'Hell?"

"I'll tell you what I think Vin..." Josiah rubbed his forehead then looked out over the town. "I believe there's a place reserved for you in Hell..." Vin nodded, heart falling, not realizing that Josiah wasn't done. "I also believe there's a place for you reserved in Heaven..." and Vin looked at him in surprise, not understanding. "Up to you Vin which one you want. You make your choice where you want to go, then make sure the path you're on leads you there. It's as simple - and as hard - as that."

Vin nodded again, thinking on it, but too tired to gain much. "Maybe I could go back in and lay down again?"

"You bet." and in a little while Vin was back in bed, sitting up against the pillows, tucked under the blankets, with one more cup of water. "Josiah?" he asked between sips. "You think I'm on the right path? You think if I was to say I choose Heaven, you think I'm on the right path?"

"Yes, I do."

"If I ever don't know if I'm still on the right path, can I come ask you?"

"Of course you can."

"If there's ever anything else I can't figure out ‘bout Heaven ‘r Hell, can I come talk to you?"

"Of course Vin, I'd be proud to help you."

"Can I..." Vin tipped his head down to the cup to drink the last of the water, and to hide the smile as he just as seriously asked "...call you Joe?" and the rude remark Josiah was about to offer back was cut short by the convulsion of laughter coming from Chris on the other side of the room. It didn't take more than a second before Vin couldn't hold his laughter anymore either.

Josiah just shook his head. "Lord, I liked him better when he was dying."

Part Forty-four

Josiah sat in the well-used chair beside the bed as Vin slept, supported half upright on pillows and folded blankets. Nearly slept. Every fifteen minutes or so, he'd wake up and ask for a cup of water, drink it all down, then go back to sleep in a heartbeat, only to repeat the process again fifteen minutes later. When it was just breaking dawn, three hours or so later, Chris woke up for the day during one of Vin's sleeping spells.

"Thirsty, hunh?" Chris asked, standing next to the bed.

"Thirsty, and wants to have a shave." Josiah said."He's reminded me ten times now that I said we'd get him a shave in the morning."

"Well, I'll get some things together for him to shave, bring him back a bigger cup for the water too...see if we can't get him to sleep half an hour at a time."

+ + + + + + +

A little while later, Chris brought back his own shaving kit, and two canteens. Vin was awake and grateful for the supply of water. He took several long swallows from one and kept the other tucked in the crook of his arm as he drifted off again. Chris and Josiah walked out onto the balcony for some air. They left the door open to keep an eye on Vin.

"He say anything to you last night?" Chris asked.

"He said a lot of things...thinks he's goin' to Hell for killing buffalo."

"Buffalo? I can see him thinkin' that for killing men, but buffalo?"

Josiah shrugged. "Y'see the devastation wrought by the slaughter of the buffalo on the Plains: whole tribes and nations sent to the brink of destitution and beyond. No meat for food, no skins for tipis, no roaming for the nomad, peoples and histories driven to extinction. All for killing a buffalo. Thing like that - seems it'd set pretty hard on a man like Vin."

"He was a kid, just trying to make a living." Chris argued.

"Well, he's a man now, trying to make peace with the scatters of his life."

+ + + + + + +

The morning passed, Vin slept off and on, drinking water, complaining that he needed a shave. Sometimes he stayed awake awhile, and his eyes would fix on spot on the far wall that he stared at but didn't see as something worked over in his mind. Nathan was in and out again, off to check on the O'Briens. When it was almost noon, Josiah went out to get them some dinner and Chris sat in the chair to read the latest edition of the newspaper.

"Chris?"

"Yep?"

"Do me a favor?" Vin asked before taking another long drink of water.

"Sure." Chris set the paper down. He figured it'd be about shaving again. Vin seemed rested enough to last the process without falling asleep.

"Help me write my will?" The silence that followed that question was immediate and deep.

"You ain't gonna die." Chris thought Vin knew that.

"I might."

"You ain't."

"I will someday." Vin persisted.

"You keep pissin' me off and it'll be right now." But Chris relented. "You serious?"

"Yeah, I got stuff somebody might care to have if I was to go on without y'all...somebody might." he added when Chris didn't answer him.

"Y'almost did go on without us Vin. Came real close..." Chris' voice was low and earnest. Vin wanted to tell him the shreds of dreams and visions he harbored in his memory. Wanted to tell him he'd seen his mother and tried to go with her. Wanted to ask about the heartbeat and warm strength that had kept him here with his friends.

"You help me?" he asked again.

"Sure..." Chris went to the cupboard to look for a pencil and paper and brought them back to the chair. Vin took another swig of water before starting.

"I know there's a lotta folderol goes on before y'get to the part about who gets what, but maybe we can get somebody to fill that in later? ‘cause I don't know what all it is."

"OK, we'll save that till later." Chris rested the paper on the table and made a note. ‘check saddle blanket, needs to be washed.' then looked to Vin. "Shoot."

"Okay." Another swig. "I want Josiah to have my Bible."

"Okay." ‘pay laundry bill'

"And give JD my spy glass."

"JD gets spyglass." Chris echoed. ‘ask Mrs. Potter about robbery'

"I'd give him my gun, but I'm afraid he'd shoot his foot off...give Buck my horse and give Nathan my saddle and gear."

"Okay." ‘get JD and Buck to take away all these candles and lamps'

"And Ezra..." Vin paused to think about this. He laughed. "Give Ezra my jacket - ha! He'll have to take it ‘cause it's in my will. Ha!" Chris had to laugh too and wrote it down exactly as Vin said it. He'd have to show it to Ezra.

"And you get the money." Vin finished.

"Money?" Chris asked, his laughter stopping mid-chuckle. He didn't know that Vin had any money.

"Yeah, the bounty. You know."

The conversation ceased being funny to Chris. "I ain't takin' you back for the bounty."

"If I'm dead, you take me back. Get the money."

"No."

"You have to if it's in my will."

For an answer, Chris scrunched the paper into a ball. "You ain't dyin'."

"Y'said I almost died. I might still."

"You ain't dyin' and I ain't takin' you back for the bounty." Chris picked his newspaper up from the floor and proceeded to read it, blocking Vin from his sight.

"You have to iffen I'm dead and I says you have to." Vin insisted.

Chris gave up. "You'll be dead Vin.' he drawled. "I'll do what I want."

The silence that followed that remark made Chris hold his breath for Vin's reaction. He expected anger, a smart remark, grumbling, more silence. What he got was laughter. A short burst at first, coming from a throat raw with coughing and shouting in delirium. Then more, and louder, till the bed shook, but Vin couldn't help it. He and everybody else it seemed had been so afraid he was going to die, hearing Chris say it like that made it seem so impossible now. But leave it to Chris to be so blunt. Vin didn't know why the drag of Chris' voice made the statement so absurd, but he couldn't stop laughing. Behind the paper, Chris laughed too. For the first time in two days, he let himself honestly believe that Vin would be allright.

Vin wore himself out in short order with laughing. He turned on his side, away from Chris, and with one or two more chuckles he fell asleep.

He slept twenty hours.

Part Forty-five

When it became apparent that Vin was not going to die or wake up anytime soon, life got back to normal for the rest of the Seven. Nathan cleared everybody out of the clinic and set to work getting it straightened up. Buck and JD cleared away all the lamps, candles, and blankets. Ezra got a card game going at the saloon. Josiah finished putting in the new window frame at the church. Chris went to the laundress, paid his bill, picked up his laundry, and went to his room at the boardinghouse for a little more sleep. He found Mary at Vin's room. The door was open and she seemed to be just staring inside.

"Mary? Everything allright?"

"You wouldn't even know anyone lived here." She said, glancing back at Chris. "No pictures, no rug, no curtains, even the blanket looks like it got left behind by the last person who slept here."

"Well, Vin ain't one much for knickknacks I guess. Don't like too much weighing him down. He probably wouldn't like all those things anyway." Chris was about to turn away and head to his room.

"No, he would like them."

Something in the way she said that, as though she knew, made Chris stay. "What d'you mean?" Chris followed Mary into the little room.

"One time he came into my home for a reading lesson, and I was late getting there. As I walked in I heard him talking to Billy about his grandparents' home, the Judge's home. Vin was asking Billy questions like ‘do they have lace curtains on the windows and a rocking in front of the fire place?' He was asking what kind of rugs they have on the floor and what pictures they have on the walls. It just sounded so much to me like he wanted those things." But Chris didn't think so.

"If Vin wanted ‘em, he'd have ‘em."

Mary shook her head. "No, it doesn't always work that way. Sometimes the thing we want most, we push away from. Because we don't know how to ask, or because we're afraid we won't get it." She looked over the blank walls and dirty window again. "Or because we don't think we deserve it... I really think Vin would like some nice things in here, a rug, a quilt..."

"Lace curtains?" Chris had to ask. He couldn't see Vin with lace curtains. "Well, if he ever wanted any of those things, I never noticed."

"Mr. Larabee, I'm beginning to think that unless your life is in danger, you don't notice anything." Mary said it lightly and they left the room. Chris shut the door and watched her walk away.

"Oh I notice, Mrs. Travis." He said when she was out of ear shot.

+ + + + + + +

Vin became aware that he was awake. He heard voices, not too close to him, and felt air push past him in and out of the window above the bed. So, he knew he was still at Nathan's, the door was open, and Chris and Ezra were talking on the balcony. Not bad figurin' things out for a man who almost died. He turned onto his back in the bed and meant to have a drink of water out of one of the canteens. But when he opened his eyes, a voice exploded in his head.

"HEY ARE YOU AWAKE?"

Vin jumped and turned to the where the voice was coming from. A small boy stood next to the bed, too small for that voice to be coming out of. "Hey." Vin said in answer. "Ain't you - -"

"I'M BART. I WAS SICK LIKE YOU WERE MY MA SAID."

"Oh." He had a big voice, Vin was surprised he wasn't blood relation to Mrs. O'Brien. "Is your Ma here now?" Will she come take you away?

"SHE'S DOWN AT THE STORE, TALKIN' TO MRS. POTTER. MY PA SAID THAT WHEN I'M ALL BETTER HE'LL TAKE ME FISHIN' ALL BY MYSELF JUST ME AND - -"

"Okay, okay..." Vin tried to wave him to be quiet. The sensation that voice was causing in his head was reminiscent of a hangover. "Maybe you could go find her?" Just as Bart was about to launch another attack, Ezra came to Vin's rescue.

"Why - Mr. O'Brien, is it not?" he asked, pulling Bart out of point blank range of Vin's ears. "I am so glad to see you up and about. I had heard that you were a bit under the weather as of late?"

"YEAH I GOT SICK AND I COULDN'T BREATHE AND MY PA SAT UP AND HELD ME ALL NIGHT AND MY MA SAID THAT'S WHY I GOT ALL BETTER."

"Fascinating, simply fascinating. You know there is someone here who would dearly love to hear your harrowing tale of malaise..." and Ezra led Bart out to the balcony to Chris. "Mr. Larabee, if you could entertain our stentorian friend here until one or more of his tribe come to retrieve him, I will help Mr. Tanner pick up what is left of his shattered ear drums."

Chris smiled. "Sure Ez'." He crouched down to be level with the boy. "How y'doin' Bart? I heard you were real sick."

"YEAH I GOT SICK AND I COULDN'T BREATHE AND..."

Ezra got inside and shut the door while on the bed Vin squeezed his eyes shut and moaned "Please God don't let him talk no more..." With the door closed and the voice muffled to dull thunder he looked to see who had saved him. "I ‘preciate Ezra...Lord, he started talkin', I thought I'd been shot."

"My pleasure Mr. Tanner. How do feel this morning?"

"I'm okay I guess. Feels good to sleep." Then Vin heard what Ezra had said. "Mornin'? It ain't mornin'. It was just noon."

"Well, no doubt it was just noon to you, however to the rest of us..." Ezra consulted his watch. "It is now 8am."

"No."

"Yes."

"But that means - -."

"That you slept nearly a full day." Ezra supplied. "Yes, we are all well aware of that fact. May I say that it has cheered more than one soul in this town that you are on your way to restored health."

It took Vin a second to track what Ezra was saying but then he grinned. "Thanks Ez'."

"Now, I am on my way out of here, I believe I'll take Bart to find his mother...hopefully somewhere he won't be shattering any fine china...is there anything you might require that I can obtain for you in my travels?"

"Clothes." Vin said immediately. He felt fine, he was planning on getting out of here.

"Come, come Mr. Tanner. While there are many perils I would gladly risk for your sake, I will neither tempt fate nor the possibility of Mr. Jackson dosing me with what his father so succinctly and appropriately referred to as ‘boiled skunk.'" As he talked, Ezra pulled pants and a shirt out from the bottom shelf of the cupboard. "Placing your clothing into your hands is simply out of the question." Instead, he laid them on the chair next to the bed. "I trust I have made myself clear on this topic?"

"Perfectly Ezra...thanks."

Ezra grinned. "My pleasure." He turned to leave and as the door opened and closed, Vin got a blast from Bart O'Brien.

"MY BROTHER DAN'L - BIG DAN'L - HE TOOKED CARE OF ME ‘CAUSE I'M HIS LITTLE BROTHER IS THAT YOUR LITTLE BROTHER IN THERE?"

And Ezra let the door close slowly enough that Vin heard the answer. "Yeah, that's my little brother."

+ + + + + + +

When Bart was on his way out of ear shot - across town - Chris went in to check Vin. He found him dressed in pants and his shirt untucked, barefoot, standing in front of a little stand up mirror, set at the appropriate angle on the table. He had Chris' shaving kit open in front of himself.

"What are you doing?" Chris asked.

"Need a shave."

"You ain't strong enough to be doin' that. I'll do it for you."

"You think I'm going to let you get a razor close to my face?" Vin asked him.

"You seen me shave."

"Yeah, and I seen your face..."

Chris scowled and Vin laughed and had to lean his hands on the table to support himself. Chris tried hard to keep a grin off his face.

"Lord, I liked him better when he was dying."

Part Forty-six

Josiah sat next to the bed while Vin slept. It wasn't so much that Vin needed looking after, they were periodically involved in a card game, until the weariness of recovery overtook Vin, sometimes unawares. Then Josiah would take the cards out of Vin's hands, lay both sets down on the table, and wait for the next instance of wakefulness.

Vin slept peacefully enough, none of the hallucinations that Nathan had told Josiah about. He stayed dressed, - once he had his clothes on, Vin wouldn't take them off for anything or anyone. Shaving that morning had put him out for two hours. Ten minutes of cards and conversation tended to put him out twenty minutes or so at a time. Sometimes Josiah read, sometimes he just watched Vin sleeping, trying to figure out how a boy who had survived so much misery could grow into a man who had so much compassion for others.

"How is he doing today Mr. Sanchez?" A quiet voice in the doorway asked. Josiah turned, surprised. Mrs. O'Brien stood hesitantly, not quite in the room, not quite outside. "Don't want t'wake him, poor boy needs all the sleep he can get more'n likely. Tuckered my chickens out somethin' awful."

"Please, Mrs. O'Brien, come in. You won't disturb him. He's been sleeping on and off all morning." Josiah stood up and held the second chair for her. "How are your children doing?" he asked as she took the seat. "I'm guessin' Bart's okay, he was up here already today, bringing the morning in like thunder."

"Ha!" Mrs. O'Brien laughed once then stopped herself before she woke Vin. "Little chicken like him, never once thought he'd even have half a voice like that. Seems he was always that way though, he just never talked much around us. A boy blessed with a voice like that, he's meant to do something in the world." Her eyes turned to Vin. "I thought for sure Bart was lost to us the other day, the way his breathin' was. Did somethin' I never do - demanded the Lord tell me why he'd take a poor boy who'd lost so much already. Said he came to me for a reason, and that reason sure wasn't just to lose him so soon...then he was cryin' ‘n fussin' and his Pa just picked him up and held him. Held him all night long. Bart slept all that time. When he woke up, we was his family, pure and simple. Never seen the like."

Just as Josiah was about to say he'd seen something near to it just recently, Vin stirred on the bed. His eyes opened, showing first delight at seeing Mrs. O'Brien, then registering concern. "Bart - -?" He wanted to be sure the kid was nowhere near his hearing.

"He's just fine honey. He's with his Pa. Came near to dyin' that boy did and he's the one bounced back the soonest. Never seen the like...how're you doin' honey? Heard we came close t' losin' you at time or two. Still sound pretty wore out. How's your throat doin'?"

"I'm still here, guess that's all that matters...don't remember much."

"That's probably just as well honey. Bein' sick ain't somethin' y'want to remember. You need anything honey? I'm just in town with Bart and my Tom. Abby's watchin' the chickens left at home. We're goin' to be headin' back soon, but you let me know if there's anything you need I can get you."

"No, thank you Ma'am. I'm just real glad you stopped by...don't recollect bein' too agreeable last time y' seen me."

"Oh, don't you fret about that honey. All the chickens I got, and the time the Good Lord's given me with my Tom all these years, take more'n a little fuss to rattle me. Don't you think one more thing about it."

"Okay..."

She stood up and felt once of Vin's face to establish for herself that his fever was gone. "You'll be just fine honey. Same as Bart, you'll be just fine." Josiah escorted her out of the clinic and down the stairs to where her husband was waiting. In his arms he held Bart, asleep and quiet.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah expected Vin to be halfway out of bed when he got back to the room; he'd tried everytime he could when he was near dead. Instead, he found the young tracker still in bed, one arm crooked over his eyes.

"Y'allright there son?" He waited for an answer. After a moment or two, Vin nodded.

"Tired a' bein' stuck in this room day and night. Got no air, got no sunlight... gettin' tired of it."

"Want to sit on the balcony? Got a nice breeze out there."

Vin considered it, but shook his head. Too many people walking past. Too much noise and dust, too many smells and not enough quiet. "Have t'go way further than that to be all right."

"Where would you like to go?" Josiah asked, and the tone of his voice made Vin lower his arm and look at him. He sounded like he might just take Vin wherever he wanted to go.

"Out, outside. Near a creek, in the air. Anywhere that ain't here no more."

Josiah looked at him, and Vin knew the wheels were turning. Just a little bit more and he'd be swayed, Vin just knew it. With a sigh and a look that meant he was caving in, Josiah turned to set Vin's boots on the floor next to the bed.

Just then Chris came into the room. He saw the guilty looks and the boots too close to Vin. "What's goin' on in here?" he asked. Josiah was prepared to lie. But Vin just said it.

"Gettin' outta here."

"I don't think so." Chris answered him. Vin wasn't saying it, but Chris could tell he meant to go farther than the balcony.

"You can't stop me." Vin said, a little disbelieving that Chris would still be molly coddling him.

"I don't have to stop you Vin. You can't even play a hand of cards without fallin' asleep. Never mind saddlin' your horse, you'd never make it as far as the livery."

"I can do it...I can try." Arguing didn't seem much good when he was still practically flat on his back in bed.

"You can stay in bed Vin. Tomorrow maybe you can get out of here, or the next day. Or whenever Nathan says you can...." Chris waited, but the only answer Vin gave him was a scowl. "Now I'm heading over to Eagle Bend, I expect you to stay here. You wear yourself out it'll just take longer to get better. You want that?" Still no answer, only scowling.

"I'll take care of him Chris. He won't move an inch out of this room." Josiah promised. "You go on, take care of your business. He'll be here, cross my heart." He promised again, making the gesture with his right hand. Now Vin turned his scowl on Josiah.

"Allright, I'll see you later." Chris headed out of the clinic. As soon as the door was shut, Josiah turned and whispered urgently.

"Get your boots on Vin. We'll light out as soon as he's clear of town."

Vin hadn't been part of something so childishly devious in a long time and the prospect of outwitting Chris was as appealing as the prospect of fresh air and sunlight. It took a few minutes to sit up and pull his boots on over his stocking feet, and another minute or two to stand and make his way over to the door with Josiah's help. Vin's heart pounded with exertion and excitement. Josiah opened the door to see if the coast was clear.

There stood Chris Larabee, arms folded across his chest, leveling his most devastating glare at the preacher.

"I read that medical book of Nathan's, Josiah. Your heart ain't on that side."

Beside Josiah, Vin sagged, all the excitement and expectation gone in an instant. Josiah felt it, the physical and the emotional blow. He met Chris' glare evenly.

"A man don't like to be caged." he said.

Chris looked at Josiah, who stood determined, then at Vin who was staring at the floor, rapidly getting too worn out to argue with Chris. Bed was the best place for him.

"Vin?" and Vin looked up, and Chris saw something dying in his eyes. He could stay in this room and recover all the physical health he'd lost, and lose everything else. Or he could be home, outside, in the wind and the sunshine and sleeping on the hard ground, and gain it all back. Gain maybe more than any of them knew he'd lost. The glare softened.

"Tell me where you want to go."

Vin didn't even have to think. "Fishin'."

Part Forty-seven

Five men met that afternoon for supper and a friendly card game. "Gee, you think Vin is gonna be all right out there?" JD asked Buck, looking out the door of the saloon. It was still broad daylight, but the shadows had shifted, growing long down the dusty street, signaling that the afternoon was waning.

"Oh sure. Chris'll keep an eye on him. Sent along more blankets and food than they'll need. Figure the fresh air'll do ‘em both some good."

"I agree." Ezra said as he dealt the cards. "Mr. Tanner regaining his health inside four walls is as unlikely as my regaining mine in the wilderness."

"Ain't just his physical health, either." Josiah put in. "I think that's just a symptom of a battle goin' on in his soul..."

"I know what you mean about his soul." Nathan said. "Somethin's been eatin' away at him ever since he found little Daniel at the creek...still, the physical is the one I worry the most about. A man can hang on a long time with a dying spirit...can't live that long with blood poisoning."

"Tell you what Nathan, later on, when it's dark, you ‘n me can sneak on down to their campsite and have a look." Buck offered. "If either one of ‘em looks poorly, we can drag ‘em on back to town."

"I may just take you up on that..."

"Allright, where is he?" Nettie's voice rang from the swinging doors. She was not happy. "He ain't at the clinic, he ain't at the boarding house, and his horse ain't at the livery. You fellas mind tellin' me where Vin Tanner IS?"

"Why are you all lookin' at me?" Buck demanded, as all eyes turned on him. "Josiah's the one convinced Chris to take Vin on this little adventure, not me."

Nettie turned her frown on the preacher. "All you had to do was watch him until I got back...you seen how that boy's been sleepin' the past day and a half. He ain't fit to be ridin' anywhere, much less to the back of nowhere."

Josiah stood to calm her. "Now Miz Wells, Nathan here wouldn't have let Vin leave - not one of us would've let Vin leave if he was truly in any danger." He spoke gently. "You ever tried coaxing a wild thing to health while it was caged? Can't be done. It'll die tryin' to escape, just kill itself body and soul...you wouldn't want that for Vin now, would you?"

She had to agree. "No, can't say as I would."

"Chris is with him, and they left a while ago. By now they're at the campsite, with a good fire goin' and Vin no doubt stretched out asleep in front of it."

+ + + + + + +

"Chris?"

"Yep?"

"Think your horse mighta got a pebble in his hoof."

Chris looked down briefly at his horse's hooves. "No..." he called back to Vin behind him. "Seems all right to me."

"Okay."

+ + + + + + +

A few minutes later.

"Chris?"

"Yep?"

"You sure this is the right way to the campin' spot? Seems to be takin' an awful long time."

"Yep, this is the exact way."

"Okay."

+ + + + + + +

A few minutes later.

"Chris?"

"Yep?"

"You ain't gettin' tired ‘r anythin', are you? I know y'ain't had a lot sleep the past couple nights...y'know, you're gettin' on in years now, lack a' sleep ain't no little thing no more..."

Chris finally reined in his horse and turned back to Vin. "Are you tired?"

"No." Vin said, hastily pulling himself upright. His exhaustion showed in his face. "I ain't tired." Chris gave him a long, decided stare.

"What time was it you tried to sneak outta the clinic?" Chris asked.

"Now Chris, ‘sneak' ain't exactly the word I'd -"

"What time?"

"Guess it was around noon or so."

"And what time did you finally leave the clinic?"

"Well you made me sit at that table and have something to eat." Vin reminded him.

"What time?"

"Around one or so..."

"And that was because?" Chris asked, though he knew the answer.

"That was ‘cause I fell asleep at the table after I was eatin'..." Vin didn't meet Chris's eyes.

"And what time did we finally leave the livery stable?"

"Well now that was just ‘cause you had to go get all those supplies -"

"What time?"

"Seems it was around three..."

"And that was because?" But Vin mumbled his answer. "I'm sorry - I didn't hear you?"

Vin raised his head and his voice. "That was ‘cause I fell asleep waitin' for you to saddle the damn horses."

"You tired?" Chris asked again.

"No. I ain't tired." Vin was lying, and anger burned in his eyes and his voice. Chris knew he could turn them right around and head back to town, and there wouldn't be one thing Vin could do about it. Except waste his strength on being angry at Chris instead of getting better. Probably sneak out sometime when no one was around, and go off on his own with no one to watch his back.

"We should be there in ten or fifteen minutes Vin, you reckon I can make it that far? Old guy like me? Or you think I should rest?"

Vin considered the choice he was being given. He knew Chris would drag him back to town if he thought Vin was pushing himself too hard. So he knew that Chris was giving him a way to ask for what he needed without really asking it. "Think maybe you oughta rest, a minute or two anyway."

"And d'you think I can rest sittin' on horseback, or should I get down and rest on that fallen log over there?"

"Reckon you can sit your horse."

Chris smiled, wondering how far he could push this. "What about water? Am I thirsty?"

"No, you ain't thirsty." Vin was too tired to enjoy this.

"Am I warm enough?" Chris pushed just too far and Vin glared at him. Chris only laughed. "You'll have to do better than that Tanner if you're tryin' to scare me. I seen scarier faces on JD..."

Part Forty-eight

Vin was relieved to get to the campsite - and still a little too pissed off to show it. He dismounted thankfully, tied his horse, and began the slow process of taking the saddle and blanket off. Chris kept an eye on him while he did the same, but he didn't offer any help. He could see the struggle Vin was having just releasing the cinch, but if Vin didn't ask, Chris wouldn't offer. Vin'd been sickly and helpless too long to suit either of them. The sooner he felt like he was on his own feet again, the sooner he'd get well. Still, Chris worked slower than he normally would have, so that it wouldn't seem Vin was too far behind.

"Damn stupid cinch." Vin muttered to himself. "Don't use the damn thing a couple days and it gets ornery...Larabee probably just put it on too tight, damn stupid cinch..." It finally gave and Vin lifted the saddle and blanket and carried them to where he would set up his bedroll. The effort left him breathless and sweating, he could feel his underused muscles trembling long after he'd set the burden down. Chris was already unrolling his bedroll, and Vin stared at it a minute.

"That's my blanket." he said, confused. He glanced at his own bedroll, still tied to his saddle. But that was his blanket, his ‘sieve' Buck called it, on Chris' bedroll.

"I know."

"What're you doin' with my blanket?"

"I filched it the other day. Figured I'd be more likely to get a decent one to replace it than you would. Didn't get the chance though."

"I want it back." That wasn't Vin's recent anger talking. "You got enough other blankets we brought from town, I want mine back." He spoke in a quiet voice, one that Chris didn't remember ever hearing him use. The low, threatening tone of a man an inch away from violence, holding himself back as long as he could.

"...'course..." Chris said it casually. He folded the blanket over on itself a couple of times and handed it to Vin, then turned back to his bedroll. Vin bundled the blanket into his arms and watched Chris turn away again. Just a blanket. Every autumn he told himself that he had to get a new one pretty soon, and he never did. He watched the holes and worn spots get bigger, felt a little more cold creep in, but he never replaced it.

He kept the blanket in his arms and walked away, out of the campsite and down to the creek.

+ + + + + + +

Chris went down to him a little while later. Vin stood, staring out at the rushing water. He had the blanket under one arm now, leaning a little off of the side he favored, thumb hooked into his holster. Chris stood next to him, not saying anything, wondering what Vin saw out there. Vin finally looked at him, stared at him a little while.

"Ain't y'gonna ask why you're standing here when you're so tired y'oughtta be asleep already?" he asked.

"Well, it had crossed my mind." Chris said.

"Just got to thinking, almost everything I been through these coupla weeks had something to do with this creek...finding Daniel, fossil huntin' with JD, comin' back - - that night...here I am again."

"I hadn't thought of that." They stood a little while longer, not saying anything.

"Did I really almost die?" Vin asked.

"There was a couple minutes there I thought you had died."

"And you took care of me..." A statement, not a question. Chris was going to say how everybody took care of Vin, but he got the feeling that would somehow denigrate what Vin was asking. So he nodded.

"Yeah."

Vin nodded too, but didn't answer. He looked down at the blanket. "Reckon it was why I couldn't roll up my bedroll that day. You just plum went and confused me, switching blankets like that." He wanted to say it lightly, not like he was accusing Chris, but he didn't know how it sounded. "Guess I was sicker then than I knew...reckon you're about wore out now, oughtta go back to the camp and rest ‘fore you fall down."

"Reckon so." Chris let Vin lead the way back to camp. He'd laid out Vin's bedroll with extra blankets, finished taking care of the horses, built a fire and had supper cooking. Vin set himself down on his bedroll, Chris did the same. The forest whispered around them.

"We gonna takes bets who shows up first and when?" Vin asked.

"Nathan and Buck." Chris answered immediately. "Nightfall."

"Josiah and Nettie." Vin countered. "While it's still daylight." They laughed at least, and Vin felt better. He still held the blanket. "Reckon you can keep an eye on things while I take a doze? Wouldn't want you gettin' dotty and wanderin' off..."

"I'll do my best." Chris gravely assured him.

"Happens y'know, old guy like you..." Vin stretched out, crossing his feet, and resting his head on his saddle. He tipped his hat over his eyes and tucked the old blanket a little more securely under his arm. He couldn't see it, but he could feel Chris glare at him. "Have to do better than that..." he said to himself.

Part Forty-nine

Footsteps.

From under his hat, Vin heard the footsteps coming closer to him across the dry grass and fallen leaves. Quick as thought he sat up, with his gun dead aimed at - - -

Chris

Who stopped dead with his hands held in front of himself. "Hold on. Just me. Supper's ready, I was gonna wake you up."

Still Vin waited a few seconds, till his heart stopped pounding and he trusted his eyes that it really was Chris and not some demon come to drag him off. "Sorry..." he re-holstered his weapon. "Guess I was sleepin' too sound, y'startled me." Chris held off saying that Vin needed to sleep that soundly. He turned back to get the food while Vin repositioned himself, stowing his worn blanket between himself and the saddle. "Thanks." when Chris handed him the plate.

"Sure..."

They didn't talk much at first as they ate. Vin's throat was still raw, and every swallow of food had to be washed down with a swallow of water, trying not to wince in pain every time. The wind crackled the grass and dead leaves around them, and passed lightly through the campsite. Vin turned his face up, into the wind. Eyes closed, he seemed to lose himself in it.

"Seems like forever." he finally said. Chris wondered what he meant.

"Since y'been outside?"

"Since I been anything, really...outside, on horseback, eatin' food - real food..." he opened his eyes to look at Chris. "Seems like forever I been in this town...longest I been anywheres since I been on my own..."

"Weren't you planning on staying when you first came to town? When you worked at the store?"

Vin started to say ‘yeah' a few times, then gave up. "Naah, not really. I wanted to, but I knew it weren't a good idea, wouldn't hold up. Somebody'd find me, some bounty hunter...I knew I couldn't stay. Just figured to save enough money to move on. Best I could do." He shrugged and went back to eating.

"Why a shop clerk?" Chris asked. He figured Vin would say no bounty hunter would think to look for him with a broom in his hand. But the look that settled on Vin's face spoke of a terrible longing.

"My whole life I stunk a' dirt n' death. I'm the fella quality folk would cross the street to not have to walk near. Buffalo huntin', bounty huntin', they just remind folks a' things they don't rightly want t'be reminded of. The cleanest I ever been in my life was the week I worked at that store. I knew it wouldn't last, but I wanted to know what it felt like to just be like anybody else. Get up in the morning and go to the same job every day, come home to the same room every night. Sleep in a bed like regular folks. Eat supper off real china plates and real cloth napkins. Have people call you ‘sir' and not just ‘mister' or ‘you'...knew it wouldn't last..." he said down to the graniteware plate in his lap. "Just wanted to feel it a little while..." He picked at his food then, and managed a few more swallows.

"Why'd you give up bounty hunting?" Chris asked then, guessing that the answer wouldn't be what he thought either. Hard to bounty hunt when you're the bounty.

"Didn't, not really. Ain't exactly what you'd call a reliable income anyway. Always was hard...get a description, places they been seen, family or old haunts. Hardest part weren't usually the catchin' but the findin'...but times are changin'. Lotta them wanted posters got no picture, just writin' on ‘em..." Vin shrugged. "Never was good at trackin' my letters."

He couldn't read. Chris had known that quite some time. He also knew it'd been a secret Vin had held onto longer than the bounty on his head. "You're real smart Vin. I read that poem a'yours that Mary put in her paper. You'll learn fast."

"I don't know." Vin shook his head. "She's got me tryin' this book, I thought it was about Paul Bunyan, now I think maybe it's about them pilgrims came over with Columbus...can't make heads ner tails of it."

Chris tried to hide the smile that Vin's grasp of history and literature brought to his face. "Tell you what Vin, when you feel better, I'll get some wanted posters and help you figure out readin' those. I think that'll be a lot handier to you than ‘Pilgrims Progress'."

Vin nodded his thanks. Weariness hit him again hard and sudden, and he caught himself to keep from nodding off right where he sat. He set the plate down and got comfortable again on his bedroll. "Reckon I'll just close my eyes a minute or two...let me know if anybody shows up."

"I will."

Vin tucked his old, worn blanket under his arm again, and tilted his hat to cover his eyes. Chris figured he was asleep right off, but after a few minutes, Vin said: "It was the first thing I ever bought with my own money." He tilted his hat back again and indicated the blanket. "I was cold, and I needed a blanket and I had the money and I bought it. Reckon that seems foolish, reckon most people can't remember the first thing they ever bought with their own money...meant a lot to me. Still does. I know I should get a new one, but I can't. It'd be like givin' up the oldest friend I got. Longest time this blanket was the only friend I could say I had." He waited a moment for Chris to answer, but Larabee didn't say anything. "Reckon I always knowed it was foolish..." Vin tipped his hat down again.

Chris stared at him a few minutes, trying to grasp the flood of information Vin had just shared with him. The determined loner, who didn't need anyone or anything to get by in life, secretly envying people their monotonous lives and dull routines, slowly losing his edge in a harsh world of bounty hunting because he couldn't read, clinging to a tattered length of wool because it was the one source of warmth he knew he could count on, standing with his back to the fence, wishing somehow he could be inside, where they always thought he wasn't comfortable. Chris thought Vin was asleep - just like he'd thought one other time.

"Complicated man." he said softly.

" ‘Why Mrs. Travis...' " the voice from under the hat surprised Chris. " ‘I didn't think you noticed...' "

Part Fifty

Stars hung over the campsite, close enough to touch. Stretched out on his bedroll, Chris stared up at them through the trees overhead. The day had fallen, and the night closed in cold around them. Crickets shrilled on the edges of the camp and somewhere close by an owl sounded in the branches of a tree. The campfire was just glowing embers. In the darkness, he figured Vin was asleep- he'd stirred long enough to pull two of the new blankets over himself before falling stone still again. That was all. Chris didn't suggest that Vin should eat a little more, or drink some more water. Didn't even let himself think about what Nathan might have in store if he brought Vin back in a worse condition than he brought him out. He just let him sleep.

They hadn't often gone out on the trail for no other reason than to be out on the trail. Usually they had somewhere to get to, or someone to get back. Vin spent a lot of time by himself, on the trail or in town; he never seemed particularly interested in company. Chris always got the impression that Vin could be alone or with someone, have friends or not, he was used to adjusting himself to survive his surroundings. Chris figured the only reason Vin'd let him come along this time was because he needed physical help, nothing else.

But after what Vin'd just said about wanting an ordinary life, Chris wasn't so sure anymore that Vin preferred being alone. Maybe it was like Mary said, the more you want something, sometimes the harder you pushed away from it. It didn't matter though, Vin was alive when Chris had been sure half a dozen times that he wouldn't live to draw another breath. In a short space of time, he'd recovered enough to be obstinate.

"Keepin' me awake, you're thinkin' so loud over there..." The raw voice broke into Chris' thoughts.

"Winter's comin' on." was all Chris said.

"Coupla months...looks to be a hard one this year. Seen a lotta critters storin' up already..." A couple of moments passed. "Chris?" He almost stammered it out.

"Yeah?" Chris turned his attention from the stars to his friend.

"When I was sick, in Nathan's bed, anybody else come in the room?"

"Well, we were all there, one time or another. Nettie too, Miz O'Brien..."

"Anybody y'didn't know?"

Chris wondered what Vin was getting at, figured he just wanted to know if anyone had seen him laid up, so sick and vulnerable. "No, anybody else needed tendin' Nathan took care of it somewheres else."

"Oh..." Vin sounded disappointed, and Chris had to ask:

"Why?" He heard the movement and could barely see in the glowing embers that Vin pushed back his hat and turned his head to look toward Chris.

"I just had the thought that my Pa was there." he said it quietly and hurried to add: "I know he's dead and gone on with my Ma. It just seems so much that he was there with me..."

"I'm sure he was Vin." Strange how words like this came easier in the dark. "You have kids you'll see, even death can't keep you from caring about ‘em. One way or other, I'm sure he was there with you."

"Holdin' me?" Vin asked.

Make sure nobody ever tells him it was me Chris reminded himself before asking: "Did you feel him holding you?"

"Yeah." The way he said it made Chris amend his previous thought. For his sake, let him always believe it was his Pa. "I could feel his heartbeat...thought it was him anyway. Guess it couldn't a'been. Just seemed so much like he was there. Everytime I kept feelin' like I was goin' away, somethin' kept me stayin'. Somebody had hold a'me and kept me there...just seems so much like it was my Pa." He paused. "Guess I just been havin' a whole lotta crazy dreams bein' sick, hunh?" He turned his face back to the sky, but didn't pull his hat down.

"Vin -" How to answer without telling him the truth? "If things were different, and I was gone and Adam was still here, I'd sure as shootin' be there if he was sick. No matter what. Ain't a crazy dream - if you felt him, he was there. Your Pa was there lookin' out for you." Vin didn't say anything and after a minute he turned on his side away from Chris. Almost immediately, Chris heard him sniffle and cough, heard the odd way his breath caught in his throat, how often he raised his hand to his eyes.

Please let him always believe it was his Pa - now Chris prayed this. Don't let that get taken away from him too...

+ + + + + + +

Vin slowly became aware that it was morning. He opened his eyes to familiar ground. They weren't still fishin', were they? What was goin' on? Why did he feel so heavy and tired? He heard voices - Chris, Buck, and Nathan. Hell, how much was that bet anyway? He'd owe Chris now. He stayed still and pretended his was still asleep.

"How's he doin'?" Nathan was asking.

"Slept all night. Ate supper and drank most of a canteen of water."

"No chills? No fever?"

"No, seemed fine."

"Yeah well, Miss Nettie's on the high side of cantankerous." Buck said. "If she'd a'known where y'all were, she'd a'been down here by now. Sputterin' something awful back there in town. Worse'n Nathan."

Vin listened to them talk. He felt bad, knowing Nettie was worried about him. Knowing that the rest of the Seven were going out of their way to take care of him. He didn't like it. He wasn't comfortable being the point of so much attention. Better to stay unnoticed, stay out of people's minds. Look after yourself. He'd always done that, it was just easier that way. Soon's he got back to town, he'd get on his own again. Been too long havin' too many people around.

"By sunset." Nathan was warning Chris.

"I know - by sunset. We'll be back." Chris answered. Vin considered himself lucky when Nathan didn't come to wake him up and have a poke at him. He heard him rummaging around in his saddlebags, for more medicine most likely. And Chris was tellling something to Buck in a low voice he couldn't make out. Blankets, something about blankets...he closed his eyes and drifted off again. When he woke up, Chris didn't mention they'd had visitors and Vin didn't ask.

Part Fifty-one

The creek sparkled in the morning sunlight, shifting specks of golden white weightless on the flowing water. Vin crouched there, staring at nothing, twirling a length of grass in his fingers. Mrs. McGinty was on his mind now and he couldn't get her to leave. Some folks said she was weak, some folks said she was strong, for doing what she done. Slipping herself away in a muddy cow pond because she couldn't stand being apart from her little baby boy. His grandparents said she'd burn in Hell forever.

Vin had seen a lot of death in his time. Everybody saw death, there was no getting away from it, but lately, since spending time in town, lately Vin had come to realize he'd seen death so many more times than most - people he'd lost and people he'd killed. People dead by fire, by disease, by a knife or bullet, hanged, starved, poisoned, or froze to death. He hadn't just seen them dead, he'd seen them die. So often that death had become commonplace to him.

But he'd never seen anyone drown.

He stared at the water and wondered what it would feel like.

+ + + + + + +

Chris was just getting ready to head after Vin, when he appeared back at the campsite. "Thought maybe y'fell in." he said. Vin gave one short laugh.

"Had enough a'that with JD I reckon...foolishness..." he added to himself.

"I'd catch hell from Nathan I bring you back sopping wet." Chris watched Vin a little, not wanting to stare, but wanting an idea of what was going on. Ever since waking up, Vin'd been fidgety, eating his food in hasty swallows, eager to get away from the campsite. He'd only mumbled something as he pushed the plate and cup away and hurried off to the creek. It'd taken him nearly an half an hour to come back.

Vin went to his bedroll and started pulling his gear together. He didn't have to do it yet, they weren't supposed to leave till near sunset, but he had no energy to talk to Chris and if he was busy doing something else, he wouldn't have to try and think of anything to say. He knew that look in Chris' eyes, trying to cipher something - and the something was him. Vin felt peculiar was all, since talking about his Pa the night before. It seemed almost now that his Pa had been with him, through the worst of the pain and visions, had kept him alive and with his friends when Vin felt so sick and miserable that all he wanted to do was give up and die.

Peculiar though, because that was what hurt - that he'd had to draw strength from someone who'd been dead twenty five years or more. That he had no one living right now he could depend on for the comfort and support he'd felt in his sickness. It made him feel even more alone.

As comfortable as he'd felt the night before, as desperately as he'd wanted to be out in the wind and hard ground, today Vin would be just as happy to be back in his room at the boarding house, off by himself. Chris probably wanted to get back anyway. Between keeping Vin company at Nathan's, and now out on the trail, Chris probably figured he'd spent enough time away from town. He was probably be fairly itching to get back. Well, Vin was set to oblige him.

Just as he intended to turn and predict rain, and recommend an early retreat to town, Chris surprised him. Vin was feeling poorly, wondering if Chris wanted to head back to town. He wasn't up to much fishing and generally just felt like he'd dragged Larabee out here for no reason. Then, standing there, watching out to where the creek was, Chris walked up to him, then past him. "Come on, let's go down the creek bottom. You can show me all those fossils you and JD was looking at." Vin didn't know why it warmed him, but the gloom lifted. He bent his head down and followed Chris to the water's edge.

+ + + + + + +

They didn't go into the water, Chris didn't want to get wet, and he wasn't about to encourage Vin. They aimlessly picked up a few rocks and fossils, mostly they wandered down the water's edge.

"How'd you sleep last night?" Chris asked, and to Vin's questioning look, explained: "Nathan's gonna want an account and he knows better than to ask you outright."

"Slept all night I reckon." Vin shrugged. "Not as tired's I was...feel better some..." Chris wanted to ask if Vin'd had anymore bad dreams, was his grandfather still chasing him down the long years. Instead they talked about the rocks and the creek, about nothing in particular, and about nothing at all. When they'd gotten half a mile or so from the campsite, Vin set himself down on a large rock set firmly in the sandy shoreline. "Weather's holdin'." he said, looking up at the sky.

"Rain's comin' though." Chris said. "Tomorrow, likely early." Vin thought how he'd planned to tell Chris it looked like rain - - he forgot that a rancher would know weather as good as a tracker. Maybe even better since his livelihood depended on it.

"We'll be back before then, I reckon." Vin said. "If I'da heard Nathan say one more time ‘sunset don't mean no pitch black neither' think I'da made drink some of his own boiled skunk....y'ever wonder how he came to be a healer Chris? Not meanin' how he was a stretcher bearer n'all, but - after all'd been done to him. Woulda thought he'd be bitter all his born days." He looked up at Chris. "How does a man who survived slavery ‘n cruelty turn out like Nathan? Y'know - compassionate?"

Chris wondered if Vin saw the parallel at all in what he was asking. "I don't know Vin. How does a boy who survived cruelty and near-slavery with his grandparents turn out to be a man who'd risk his life to save that compassionate man from lynching?" Vin followed Chris' words, still it took him a second to realize Chris was referring to him.

"I don't know." He shrugged it away, like a child being ask who broke the family china. Chris didn't push for an answer he knew wasn't there. He started to suggest they head back to camp when Vin added quietly: "Almost didn't...save Nathan you know." Chris didn't say anything, he waited for Vin to go on. "I'm afraid at first. Didn't want t'bring no attention down on me, ‘case a bounty hunter were around. An' I didn't want t'get involved. I learned, early on, don't mess in nobody else's troubles, ‘cause there ain't nobody gonna mess in yours. Ain't nobody'll take care a'you but you." He looked up once at Chris, then down. "But I knowed if what Nathan was sayin' was true, he was an innocent man gonna hang. Figured - I figured I'd want somebody steppin' in when my turn came at the gallows..." his voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "No innocent man deserves to die that way..."

Chris put his hand on Vin's shoulder. "No innocent man I know is gonna die that way Vin. I give you my word."

Vin looked up at him and nodded. "Be allright with you if we was t'head back early to town? Think I might want t'lie down in my own bed for awhile..." his voice was still the whisper.

"Sure, we can head back." Chris didn't let on how it worried him that Vin wanted to head back at all, much less early. Vin nodded once more and stood up to walk back to the campsite. A weariness had come over him that wasn't purely physical. Neither of them said anything as they walked to camp, saddled their horses, and headed back to town.

Part Fifty-two

The ride back to town didn't seem to take as long as the ride out had. Chris rode in front, keeping track of Vin out of the corner of his eye, and the sound of his horse plodding along behind. He figured Vin must be feeling mighty poorly to willingly head back to town and a bed inside four walls. Maybe he ought to spend another night at Nathan's, just in case. By his voice, Vin's throat was still raw, he shouldn't even be outside yet. Not overnight in the damp and wind. Chris'd make sure Vin spent the next few nights inside if he had to nail the door shut.

+ + + + + + +

Vin rode back to town staring at a spot between his horse's ears. He knew he should be paying attention to the land around them. Chris would keep alert, he knew that. But two kept better watch than one. Still he couldn't drag his eyes up from the horse's mane, couldn't attune his senses to anything but the memories.

Some of the memories were clear - being at the creek before he got sick, trying to eat some dinner at the boarding house before spending the night in Chris' room, having to lay down in Nathan's bed and sleep while the day was still wide open. But after that, the memories wove in and out of each other, substance seemed to get tangled up in visions, and Vin couldn't be sure what he'd experienced and what he'd dreamed.

He remembered dead buffalo, but that could just be an even older memory being tossed up to make room for new ones. He thought he'd dreamed he was being hanged, but he had that dream a lot anyway. He'd been on the floor, hadn't he? Except he was on the bed, under the covers. But it got too hot and he was shivering. And the medicine tasted bad and burned his throat and the room spun and spun around him till he dropped to a stop hearing a heartbeat and knowing he was safe hearing it till he had to cough and it seemed like he'd never stop coughing up all that blood and gore and through it all he wasn't alone because that somebody he couldn't remember was always there and it must've been ---

"Chris?" Vin said his name more to stop his mind from racing on like a train out of control than to get his attention. When Chris turned back, concerned, Vin had to think of something to say to him. Nothing came though and he felt foolish. Chris just watched him kindly, thinking maybe he'd drifted off and said his name coming awake.

"We'll be home soon, another half mile."

Vin only nodded.

+ + + + + + +

They dismounted at the livery, and Chris led his horse inside first. Vin followed, but he moved slowly. By the time he unsaddled, put away his tack, and started to brush the horse, Chris was done and on his way out of the stable. "I'll be back." he said.

"Un hunh." Vin couldn't say he cared either way. He took a long time currying his mount, wanting to get to his room and privacy, but dreading the walk he'd have to take across town to get there. He thought about lighting out of town again, but Chris would only hunt him down.

Or maybe he wouldn't.

Vin didn't know which would be worse. He put away his tools finally and headed out of the livery to the boarding house. His body felt unaccountably stiff and sore. "Too much laying around." he thought to himself. "Gettin' soft...tomorrow I'll head out on my own...no damn nursemaids around." He took every step waiting to hear Nathan call out to him, or have one of the others stop him, ask how he was doing, tell him he looked better or worse, something, anything.

But nobody did. Not till he got to the porch of the boarding house and met Chris walking out. "Hey, you want to get some dinner, ‘fore y'head to your room?"

"Nahh, thanks. Just want t'lay down." He hardly looked at Chris as he spoke, pushing his way past, heading down the hallway. Chris watched him, felt the key in his pocket, and followed Vin to his room.

"You might need this." he said, as Vin reached for the knob and was met with a locked door.

"What the hell?" Vin quickly scanned the door and hallway, making sure he was at the right place. "What's goin' on?" It was a different door, a new door with a keyhole under the knob.

"A surprise." Chris told him, though his voice held no satisfaction. He could see by the sharp look on Vin's face that this was not going to go well.

"What kinda the hell surprise y'gotta lock on my door?" Vin demanded. Chris held back a sigh. Nope, this was not going to go well at all. He offered the key, but didn't answer. Vin grabbed the key, snarling something under his breath as he fumbled with the unfamiliar mechanics of a skeleton key and lock. Chris thought about helping; he also thought about not being able to use his gun hand for a week if he put it too close to Vin right now.

"Damn, stupid, what the hell stupid kinda lock y'put on this damn door any how?" and with a final wrangle, the damn door popped open. Vin meant to take a step inside and slam it behind, but his next curse died on his lips. "What the...?" He gave a fast look around again. This had to be the wrong room.

Lace curtains - white lace curtains hung at the barely opened window, stirring slowly in a slight breeze. A generous quilt covered the bed, hanging down so low it almost touched the braided rug that took up most of the floor. In the corner of the room stood a wash stand with bowl and pitcher, a coat tree, and a low chest of drawers.

Chris watched Vin's back, trying to gauge his reactions. By the pull of his shoulders as took each breath, he was not happy. One word, just one word, and Chris would turn on his heel and leave Vin to rant in solitude.

Vin had decided to be full-fledged angry. This room might not be much, but it was his and they had no damn right to come in here and touch anything. Who were they to think that it wasn't good enough? It was his and he could keep it any damn way he wanted to... But there, in the middle of the room, in the middle of the new rug, Vin's eyes fell on the rocking chair, with the granny afghan draped over the back. He stared at it.

"My Ma had a rockin' chair too..." he finally said. His raw voice cracked a little. He walked up to the chair and laid a reverential hand on one of the decorative spindles along the top of the back. "Y'know how long it's been since I sat in a rockin' chair?" He kept his voice quiet, a whisper reserved for holy places and miracles.

"Better'n twenty years I'm willin' to bet." Chris said, and Vin nodded, not surprised that Chris guessed.

"Since I lost my Ma... Grandma had one, weren't allowed though."

"Nettie has one." Chris said, but Vin gave him a look like he'd suggesting violating the good woman.

"Oh no." Vin shook his head. "Couldn't never do that." He hadn't taken his hand off the smooth wood.

"Why not?" Chris couldn't imagine what the answer to that might be.

"Might get used to it." In his weary voice, Chris heard years of deprivation, forced on him by circumstance, and self-imposed out of fear. Don't want what you can't have. Don't get attached to what could be taken away. Don't get comfortable and don't ever ever close both eyes at the same time.

"That's what the key is for Vin." Chris told him. "You lock your door, this is a safe place for you." But Vin shook his head again and pulled away from the rocking chair.

"Ain't no safe place. Fella like me. Never was no safe place...had a quilt like this ‘un too, when I'm little." He fingered the bright cover. "Ma taught me all the colors. Then when I had to be quiet, when she was real sick, at the end..." But he couldn't finish the thought. He flung the quilt corner away from himself.

"Just wastin' it y'know. Wastin' all this fluff on me. I mean - I ‘preciate what y'all musta went through, gettin' done so fast...reckon you was just tellin' Buck about it this mornin'...weren't you?"

"Next time I find myself thinking you're asleep, I'm gonna poke you." Chris said. "Yeah, I was tellin' him about it this morning. After what you said last night, ‘bout wantin' what other people have."

"I don't deserve this Chris."

"You deserve a home Vin." Chris insisted, annoyed at Vin's self deprecation. "Not just that wagon a'yer Grandpa's you had. Not an empty stall in the livery, not out in the wind and the cold and the wet somewheres, where all y'can do is look through the windows and see other people having a life you'd like to have. You deserve a door you can lock and a safe place to keep yourself and your belongings. You don't gotta be forever findin' a place you figure no one will know to look for you. You got friends now'll watch your back."

"Got nobody." Vin mumbled.

"What're you talkin' about?" Chris asked. His mind flashed on the days stretched into a week or more that six friends had fussed, worried, prayed, and agonized over Vin as first his spirit lay dying then his body. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"Nothin'..." his finger traced the fine stitches in the quilt. Chris thought he might have an idea what was going on. He tried anyway.

"Vin - y' been sick, you're still wore out. Ain't much been goin' on in the town, still you been missin' out on the little excitement we've had. You're bound to feel outta your place, till you get back your strength." Vin didn't answer. "All right, you don't gotta like what we did to your room, but give it a couple days ‘fore you pack it all up and burn it, okay?"

"...okay..."

"C'mon, let's get some dinner...you're hungry and I'm buying." Vin nodded his head up once that he heard. They left the room and Vin let out an aggravated sigh as he wrangled with the key again. As they walked down the hall, Chris rested his hand lightly on Vin's shoulder, but immediately felt his friend stiffen at the touch. So he casually let his hand drop down again.

He wondered what was going on.

Part Fifty-three

The rain started again before nightfall. Vin lay in his bed, on top of the quilt, listening to it spatter against the muddy street and side of the boarding house. He didn't light the new lamp that stood on the chest of drawers. Didn't light the little stub of a candle he normally used. He let himself lay there, in the dark and quiet and comfortable, and tried to figure out how a man with so many friends could feel so damn miserable.

Sure, they had their faults. But scratch anyone of ‘em and Vin knew gold would run in their veins. Even Ezra. Vin laughed as the idea came to him that given another day and town, he might've been hunting Ezra, and having to listening to a river of jawin' all the way from busted to bounty. Wanted poster probably wouldn't even give him the choice of dead or alive.

No - no man deserved so many friends. Not even countin' the Seven - there was Mary and Billy, Nettie and Casey, Mrs. Potter, Yosemite, maybe even the Judge...

But here he was, alone in the dark and cold, laid out like a corpse on the bed, the bright colors of the quilt reluctantly fading with the sun. He knew he could find anyone of them and if they weren't busy, just sit down next to ‘em. They'd talk or not, but they wouldn't push him away. He knew none of the Seven would ever push him away.

He wondered if he woulda been friends with Buck if Chris weren't around. Sometimes it seemed that Buck was everything Vin wasn't - big and bright and handsome, outgoing and at ease in a crowd, rough when he had to be, and civilized when he wanted to be. At first Vin'd been of a mind to not like Buck, till he recognized the undercurrent of genuine kindness in him. He saw it in first in the gruff way Buck tried to keep JD alive and out of harm's way in spite of himself. Then later on, when Chris' father-in-law came to town, Vin could see how deep it ran in Buck to still care for his oldest friend.

Vin brushed the hair out of his eyes and tried to not think of pulling the quilt around himself to stave off the cold. ‘Gettin' soft.' he chided. ‘Y'can have the bed, or y'can be warm, ain't givin' you both...' Lying here in the darkness, the room didn't feel any different than the last time he'd slept in the bed. That was when? He couldn't remember now. He'd been sick though, he remembered that.

Not sick now, Nathan'd been by to make sure of that. Same as always "...take it easy...get some rest..." after pokin' and proddin' and getting a look down Vin's throat. "...keep warm..." Told him to shut the window to keep out the draft. Vin could barely make out the white lace curling in the stream of air blowing through the thinnest possible opening between window and frame. Before he left the newly decorated room, Nathan'd sat on the bed, next to Vin lying there, and laid his hand on his forehead. Seemed to keep it longer there than usual while his eyes searched Vin's face for what Vin had no idea. So he closed his eyes and pretended to be weary till Nathan moved his hand to give Vin's shoulder a squeeze before he left. Once he was gone, Vin got out of bed long enough to lock the door and push his straight back chair under the knob.

Not everything had changed.

So now he lay flat out on top of the quilt he wouldn't surrender to, staring up at the ceiling he was slowly less and less able to see. Why was he here? Why didn't he go find somebody and have a drink? Have something else to eat or just sit by a toastin' stove? None of the Seven would ever push him away.

But maybe they would.

Vin never sat down next to anybody when he was craving companionship, he'd trained himself away from that comfort, like he'd trained himself to endure cold and heat, hunger and thirst and exhaustion. The only way to not get cut to slivers by life was to be harder than anyone or anything you came up against.

Sometimes Vin thought he saw awe in JD's eyes when he'd go without eating or sleeping on the trail, or endure blazing heat or bitter cold without changing his leather coat, either for a thinner or a heavier one. It'd taken a long time, a coupla months before Vin realized he wasn't so much older than JD and it shocked Vin when he did realize it. It wasn't that JD was so young, Vin knew it was just that he was so old.

He fingered the edge of the quilt but made himself let go before he pulled it over his body. ‘Warm or in bed, don't get both' he told himself again. It looked like it would be a mighty warm quilt though. Probably get so warm lying underneath it that he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

Shouldn't sleep, anyway. Lock or no lock, he was alone and no one to watch his back. Sleep was a luxury - you stop paying attention, you stop living. He'd had too much sleep this past week anyway, all the time up in Nathan's bed. Nothing to do but sleep, no matter how hard he fought it. Nathan musta put somethin' in all that skunk water to make him so sleepy. His body wouldn't just give out on him like that. That was somethin' Nathan might do.

A heavy gust of air chased a bolt of lightning over the town. Vin pushed up on his elbow to have a look. Thunder rolled close and fast, but didn't sound like it hit anything. Even in rain, a lightning strike meant fire. He listened awhile, but no one raised an alarm and he laid back down. Fire took a lot of people, women especially. Cookin' and lamps and candles and all them skirts they wore. And sometimes just rotten luck, he thought of Sarah and Adam. Just damn rotten luck.

When had Chris told him about losing his family? Vin couldn't remember just now, sleep was trying too hard to get hold of his thinking. But he remembered feelin' bad about it. Vin let his mind wander under the current of sleep, keeping it at bay, one ear open to the sounds in the boarding house, one eye watching the shadows coming through the window. Lord, he was tired of being on alert all the time. It just came to him natural now, to not sleep deeply, never relax completely. Always gotta keep an eye on everything going on. You stop paying attention, you stop living.

Maybe he could go find Chris. If Chris was around, Vin could sit with him and have a drink, let himself fade into a deeper sleep than he could here. It never made sense to Vin, how Chris'd believed him when he said he was innocent of that farmer's death, but seemed willing to believe Josiah might've killed those women when that Pinkerton man came to town. Sure, Josiah had demons, which one of them didn't? Maybe they broke loose of their fetters every now and again, but Josiah was a good man. He'd sit and listen to you, and help you try to make sense of the craziest notion might ever ride through your mind. Took a lot to make him see only bad in a person.

Chris always seemed willing to think the worst of people, even when JD killed poor Annie without meaning to, Chris seemed to take a few steps back to look at the situation. He'd yell at Buck and grouse at Nathan, but never a cross word to Vin. Except when Vin told him his doubts about Ella. Then Chris let him know exactly what he thought.

Of course, that lasted all of half a day till Ella tried to kill Chris, and Larabee began to see things in a new light. Vin shook his head in the darkness. Chris'd never apologized, and Vin never needed him to. Life went on, one step at a time. Never any real surprises. Things went bad, things got took care of. Aches and pains, blistered hands and blistered souls. You take care of yourself and you go on.

Vin missed his Ma. More now than he ever had, and he couldn't figure why. Seemed she'd been close to him when he was ailin', her and his Pa, floatin' in and out with those dreams and visions he couldn't nail down. Probably that's why he missed her, missed them both - he'd lost them again. That warmth and safety he felt when he was sick and dying was just another dream he lost when he woke up. His Ma and Pa and being safe - he'd lost each one of them a long time before.

Now there was nothing.

He turned onto his side and with one hand brought the huge quilt up and over himself. It only took a few minutes to get warm, and not much longer after that to drop dead asleep.

Part Fifty-four

Footsteps.

Vin threw the quilt off and sat up in a movement, every nerve intent on the sounds in the hallway.

Footsteps.

Slow, dragging footsteps, getting slower the closer they came to the room. Vin swung his feet over the bed and into his boots, reaching for his gun hung over the headboard. Back and forth the footsteps shuffled, checking rooms, judging which one was the right one. Vin trained his weapon on the door, heart pounding as he waited to hear those footsteps go past.

Ignorant fool he berated himself. You stop paying attention, you stop living...

The footsteps would go past, they always went past...

Who said y'could get comfortable and sleep? What the hell were you thinkin'?

He felt his hands tremble around the gun, and he willed them to be still.

Was thinkin' I'm gettin' tired of hidin' out n' watching my back, tired a'bein' alone...tired a'bein' tired...

But the footsteps did stop at his door, and softly the knob rattled. Vin steadied his sights and tried to quiet his heart, not afraid as much as angry that he'd let his guard down. The knob rattled more insistently then and a drunken voice he recognized as one of his ‘neighbors' in the boarding house muttered something and wandered down the hall. Vin still held the gun steady and trained on the door, even after the footsteps died away and a door farther down opened and closed.

It wasn't this time - it will be next time. One a' these times Tanner, y'fool, one a' these times you'll wake up dead...

As the scare wore off, Vin became aware of the other sounds and sensations around him. The rain still pounded the ground, though it was letting up, and the wind that managed to creep in under the window had a cold bite to it. A few snores and snatches of conversation from fellow lodgers reached him through the walls and ceiling. He lowered the gun as he looked around himself.

Surrounded by people, yet he was all alone. When did that happen? He remembered his Ma saying what a happy, friendly little boy he was, and not just in his visions. He remembered her saying it for real in his memory. She said he was happy and loved to talked to people, that she never had to worry about him having friends. She said he'd be able to make friends wherever he went.

When did that change?

When she died.

It wasn't that the unfairness of it all hadn't occurred to Vin before, a little five year old boy who'd known nothing but love and tenderness, thrown by fate into a bear pit of an existence. Confused at first when none of the usual things he'd done to make his Ma happy worked on his grandparents. Confused when he did the very best he ever could and was still beaten and tormented for failing. Confused because he could never figure out what he'd done so bad that he'd never know another moment of gentleness or softness or love.

And his confusion, fed on scarce meals and constant pain, grew into a silent acceptance that somehow he deserved the beatings and curses.

And the acceptance of mistreatment grew into a wariness of everyone he met - holding himself back, keeping out of their way before they realized he deserved only brutal treatment, if he deserved anything at all.

And the wariness led to the isolation necessary to keep himself alive till he was grown and could defend himself.

Only by then, the isolation was a stone wall around him, and he didn't remember how to rely on anyone but himself. How to put his whole trust into another human being. And he couldn't tell if that part of his soul was only hiding, or had died entirely.

Died with his mother.

When she left him alone in hell.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah and JD finished their evening turn around town, heading to their respective rooms, dry clothes and warm beds. Just as they were about to part ways, a sound reached them over the dwindling downpour and thunder - the sound of someone yelling. Just one voice, arguing with someone or something that didn't argue back. Both men pulled their guns and advanced on the sound - it came from the direction of the cemetery.

In a few dozen long strides they came in view of the rocky patch. In the darkness, they could only make out a thin shadow, close to the ground, could only hear a raw voice cursing someone who didn't answer.

"Sounds like Vin." JD said. Josiah only nodded, keeping his eyes on the shadow as they made their way closer to it, waiting for the next bolt of lightning to tell them what was going on.

When it came - three rapid fire flashes of brilliance in a row - and they saw what was happening, JD took a step toward the cemetery. Josiah held him back with a hand to his chest. Without turning his head from where he could barely make out Vin, he said to JD: "Get Chris, get Nathan. Get ‘em now." And JD was off at a run through the muddy, raging street, back to the boarding house, back to Nathan's.

Josiah holstered his weapon and walked the final length to where Vin Tanner, hatless, coatless, and unarmed, knelt in the mud, beating on his mother's headstone and grinding handfuls of mud into her name. All the while crying out to her.

"Damn you - y'left me! Y'knew what he'd do to me! Y'knew what they was like! How could y'leave me like that? Why didn't y'try harder to live? Damn you for leavin' me like that! I loved you and y'left me all alone. Stinkin' no good mother - didn't love me at all did you? Left first chance y'got, y'coward! Stinkin' no good coward - damn y'to hell anyway for leavin' me like that!" Vin didn't hear the measured steps behind him as he poured his anguish out onto cold stone. He didn't know anyone was near him till he felt strong arms corral him in an immoveable embrace. Startled, terrified, Vin fought against his captor, cursing and kicking, reaching for the gun that wasn't at his side. Forgetting, in his fury, every trick and talent he'd ever learned for escape. Just an unbound instinct to survive held secure in Josiah's arms.

Josiah let Vin rage. He had no difficulty confining the slight body, made slighter and weaker by illness. He'd have bruises to show for it in the morning, but he held onto Vin and began to shepherd him to the church.

"Vin, it's Josiah. You're safe. Ain't nobody gonna hurt you son. You're safe." He could only hope that the words would get through as he pushed, pulled, and dragged them both through the treacherous mud. "I ain't gonna let you hurt yourself Vin. You hafta calm down, you want me to let you go. You hear me? You calm down now."

Vin was set to run - body, mind, and soul. He didn't know who had him, but he had to get away. He tried pulling at the arms that imprisoned him but his muddy hands found no purchase and the arms didn't budge. He was being dragged - God where? He fought and hollered, and quickly used up what little strength he had. His feet tangled and tripped up some steps, and he expected to be let fall and dragged up again by his collar and his hair. But the imprisoning arms steadied him, and held him upright and Vin began to notice that the grip didn't hurt, and the rumble so close to his ears wasn't the thunder but a deep and familiar voice. He quieted down and began to pay attention to his surroundings again.

By the time Josiah wrangled Vin up the steps and into the church, the tracker had stopped fighting him. He hoped that was a good sign. The inside of the church was dark but dry, and he kicked the door shut behind himself to keep the wind out. "Vin - you hear me? You promise not to run or fight me, I'll let you go. You stay inside here and let me light some candles, we'll get this all sorted out." He waited a moment to see what Vin would do before letting him go.

"Josiah?" a confused voice asked.

"Right here with you, son." Josiah felt Vin's hands come up to touch his arms, still wrapped around him. Not fighting Josiah this time, not trying to escape, just trying to track what was going on. "You gonna stand here and let me light them candles?" He felt rather than saw Vin nod, and slowly eased his grip. Another moment or two of waiting before he went to light some candles.

"She left me...too..." Vin accused. In the candlelight, Josiah could see Vin staring toward the floor. He was soaked through from the rain and covered in mud nearly head to foot, hands thick with it.

"I'm not leaving you Vin." Josiah said gently. "I'm staying right here with you."

"Ain't you I meant." he whispered. He didn't take his eyes off the floor.

"Who then?"

"Don't know." Vin shrugged. "Whoever was with me when I'm sick."

"We were all with you, one time or another..."

"Ain't you I meant..." He raised his hands, seeing the mud for the first time. His mind cleared and he stared up at Josiah, scared. "What'd I do?" He only had vague recollections of rain and wind and mud.

"Think you had yourself a walking nightmare, Vin." But Vin knew it wasn't a dream, it'd been real. His hands hurt and he was covered in mud, and freezing cold. That wasn't a dream, not even a nightmare. It was real.

The door burst open and Nathan hurried inside - he'd been warned by JD to expect Vin to be suffering a fit of some kind. But Vin stood silently - hatless, coatless, and unarmed - covered in mud. He raised his hands to Nathan.

"What'd I do?" Nathan would tell him the truth. But Vin couldn't finish the real question: What'd I do that she left me alone? What'd I do that all I got was pain and starvation and loneliness? What'd I do? and his friends were left to think he meant what'd he do tonight, just now, to get so dirty.

Nathan approached him slowly. "I don't know Vin...I don't know what you did. Are you hurt? Did you hurt your hands?"

"Vin..." Josiah walked closer behind him and put his hands on Vin's shoulders He only meant to reassure him, but Vin twisted away.

"Leave me be. Ain't gonna run - leave me be." He kept an equal distance between himself and the other two. They weren't answering his question and it frustrated him. A strong wind shook the church and made the candles flicker. If they blew out Vin knew he'd be in the darkness again. In the dark and all alone.

"What'd I do?" he tried again. They had to have an answer to his question, they had to. "Why'd she leave me? What'd I do so wrong she'd leave me all alone - just a kid and nobody to look out for me?" He'd reached the end of his strength fighting Josiah and his mother's headstone. If he'd had any left at all, he would've walked out of the church and to the livery, and rode out of town until something made sense again.

But he didn't have any strength left. He stood in a drafty church, between two men - two friends - who wanted nothing more right now than to ease his physical and spiritual pain. And he cried, hating that he did, and not even sure why he was. First with Nettie back at Nathan's clinic, and now here. It scared him but he didn't have the presence of mind or will to walk out of the church, or to even turn away from his astonished friends. He closed his eyes as tight as he could and raised his muddy, shaking hands over his mouth as his body shook with sobs. Josiah moved to him again, and this time Vin didn't push away.

"It's allright son...it's allright." He put his arm around Vin and held him. "It's allright Vin. You didn't do anything and you're not alone." Vin could hear Josiah's voice, felt his hands, but he was so tired, so embarassed. He wanted nothing more than to be away from everybody, on his own. Away from the noise and the voices and the memories.

Nathan went into Josiah's room and brought out a basin and some towels. He wanted to start getting the mud off of Vin so he could check for injuries. Josiah kept whispering comfort and support to the young man he sheltered in his arms. Neither of the men were embarassed, or even shocked. Vin'd been wrestling with something for two weeks or more now, and each had seen older, stronger men overwhelmed by internal demons. Each man was grateful that he could be there to help.

Finally, Vin began to calm down. "I'm sorry." he said as soon as he could get the words out. Sorry for what? For alarming them? For making them take care of him?

"Don't you be sorry Vin.You haven't done one thing wrong." Josiah told him..

"Can I sit down?" His voice was still shaky. Crying scared him.

"Sure, here, right behind you." They sat on a half-refinished pew. Josiah kept his hand on Vin's shoulder. They were both covered in mud. Vin wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, catching his breath a few times on unshed tears. Nathan offered him a wet towel and Vin used it to lifelessly wipe the mud off his hands. Josiah hoped that in this moment of vulnerability, Vin would really talk to him. But he'd already begun to close in on himself.

"I should go..." he said without looking at either of his friends. "Don't think I locked my door on the way out..."

Nathan crouched in front of him to keep him from moving. "Vin - what's goin' on?"

Vin closed his eyes and turned his face to not see Nathan or Josiah. He felt those unshed tears rushing into his eyes. "I just want to go to sleep." He was so tired.

"I think he should stay here tonight." Josiah rubbed his hand across Vin's shoulders. Vin had seen him through his own hell, he wasn't about to let Vin wander in own torment alone.

"You know, that's a good idea." Nathan ventured to put his hand on Vin's shaking, muddy arm, and Vin let him. "Or come up to my place. Anywhere we can get you cleaned up proper, and keep an eye on you tonight."

The prospect of someone watching over him, so that he could really sleep, settled comfortably on Vin and it showed unspoken in his face as he looked up. "You want to come with me?" Nathan asked and Vin nodded, so slightly he almost didn't nod at all.

+ + + + + + +

The inside of the saloon held the familiar tang of whiskey, smoke, and men. Chris, Buck, and Ezra sat a table far enough away from the door to stay out of the wind, sharing a slow bottle of whiskey between them.

"So, Vin don't like his room." Buck sighed and took a drink. "Well, that boy has lived an uncommon life. Might be he'd be more comfortable in a tipi or a lean-to." He didn't say it as an insult, just an observation. "Me, I like the comforts..."

"Yes, but what is Heaven to one man is likely to be Hell to another." Ezra said. "Perhaps he overspoke his longing this morning, or perhaps our interpretation of his remarks exceeded his original intent."

"I thought he was gonna tear the place apart when we first walked in there. " Chris told them. "Got real mild though when he saw the rocking chair. And the quilt. Reminded him of his Ma he said."

Ezra smiled. "A quilt and a rocking chair are lovely memories to associate with one's mother. Warmth, safety, and comfort - terrible things to lose at such an early age."

"He don't talk much about his Ma." Buck said. "If he hadn't told Nettie ‘n she told Casey ‘n she told JD, we might not a'ever known about her." He poured himself another drink. "He talk much about her to you Chris?" He figured if Vin would tell anybody, he'd tell Chris.

"No, little bits here and there. It's like he's shy of talkin' about her."

"Protecting her memory." Buck offered. "Afraid what people might say about her... I know what that's like. Been dead a long time, she's still his Ma. Still gotta respect her." Chris was about to nod his agreement when JD ran into the saloon, scattering mud and raindrops in his wake.

"Chris! Vin - down at the cemetery. He's havin' a fit, cursin' his Ma, beatin' on her headstone. Josiah's with him. I already sent Nathan down there - you better get there too."

All three men were out of their chairs in a movement. "JD - check his room at the boarding house, see if anything might've happened there." Chris said. His voice was urgent. "We'll head down to the cemetery."

+ + + + + + +

The three men hurrying from the saloon met up with the three men walking from the church just as they were coming to the stairs up to the clinic. Josiah walked beside Vin down the boardwalk, Nathan went on ahead to get things ready. Vin stopped walking when Chris approached him.

"Hey Pard..." Chris tried to sound casual, but he'd been worried by JD's description of Vin having a ‘fit'. "Hated the room that much did you?"

"Had a bad dream." Vin whispered.

"You goin' to Nathan's and get cleaned up?" and Vin nodded. "I'll bring you some clean clothes, how about that?"

"What'd I do?" Vin asked again, lifting his hands to Chris. They'd cleaned most of the heavy mud off him at Josiah's. But his hands and face were streaked with it, and it was ground into his clothes. Chris looked to Josiah for an answer, but the preacher only shook his head to not pursue it right now.

"How about we talk about that tomorrow Pard?" Chris asked Vin. "Get you cleaned up now."

"...'kay..." Vin answered, disappointed, and ambled on toward Nathan's.

+ + + + + + +

Vin refused help getting cleaned up. "I can do it." he insisted wearily, moving slowly, seeming to need to breathe deeper than usual. Only Chris and Nathan remained in the clinic and Vin's one concession was to let them empty the constantly muddy water out of the basin and pour fresh water in as he washed his face and hands and forearms. Finally, he picked up the clean clothes and turned to his friends.

"Well? Had enough a'gettin' dressed ‘n undressed in a crowd when I'm sick. Don't need no help now." He sounded tired and disagreeable and Chris and Nathan obliged him by going onto the balcony, where the other four waited, while Vin changed.

"What the hell happened?" Chris asked Josiah and JD. "What was he doing?" Josiah shrugged.

"JD ‘n me came upon him cursin' his mother out a blue streak for dying and leaving him..."

"And he was scrubbin' handfuls of mud across her name on the stone." JD added. "Like he was tryin' to hide it or cover it." and Chris shook his head at everything he didn't understand.

+ + + + + + +

"Ain't had s'many changes a' clothes in a week since I don't know when..." Vin muttered to himself as he put on warm, dry, clean clothes. "Ain't ever gonna be able t'pay the laundress up..." He buttoned his trousers and pulled on his shirt and sat on Nathan's bed to put socks on his feet. The room looked so familiar from this angle. This was where'd he'd died and come back to life again. This was where - what? Where that heartbeat had kept him from going to ground. This was where - who? Who had held him warm and secure, and spoken steady words to him till he came back to life.

This was where he was safe, this was where he wasn't alone.

+ + + + + + +

When they didn't hear anything else after awhile, Chris and Nathan went back in to find Vin in the bed and already dead asleep. Chris shuddered to remember the long nights Vin had lain there so motionless. It'd been asked before and he had to ask it again now.

"Nathan, he gonna be allright?"

"Just wore himself out Chris. Too soon for him to be up and around. I checked his throat - it looks angry, but it's healin'. Just let him sleep. You go on home Chris and let the man sleep. You come back tomorrow when we're all rested..."

+ + + + + + +

No one was in the street the next morning when Vin left Nathan's room. The sky was pink to the East, the town was gray and chill, with the promise of more warmth later in the day. He wandered down the wooden sidewalk slowly, enjoying the fresh air, not noticing anything in particular.

Chris was at his window, watching down the street to Nathan's when he saw Vin come out and down the steps. In a few moments, he was at his side.

"Hey cowboy - ." He had to physically stop Vin in his tracks to get him to notice. "Where you headed?"

Vin turned tired eyes up to his friend. "...walk..."

"Well, I'll go with you."

"...'kay."

Chris motioned Vin to start walking back the way he'd come. Vin turned with no protest, he didn't even notice. They made no conversation as they headed back to Nathan's. Chris studied Vin's condition. His shirt was untucked and misbuttoned. His eyes had the brightness of fever and his hair was damp with it.

"How you doing, Vin?" He finally asked.

"Needed some fresh air. Tired though."

"Maybe you should get some more rest."

"Yeah."

+ + + + + + +

Nathan watched from the top of his stairs. Vin hadn't gotten far when Nathan missed him. By the time he'd followed him out, Chris was walking him back. Now they made their way up the stairs slowly. Vin suddenly became so tired that he would've sat right there on the stairs. When he faltered, Chris took his arm. They stopped where they were but Chris felt Vin lean into the support.

"We're almost there Vin, you'll be able to lay down and get some rest." And after a few moments they finished their trek up the stairs.

+ + + + + + +

When Vin was back in bed, asleep in a heartbeat, Chris looked down at him. He looked so young. Nathan stood beside him, and Chris said: "I forget that Vin ain't much older than JD."

"Then the two of them cook up some prank and it's harder to remember that he IS older." Nathan added. He looked up at Chris and saw many things crossing his eyes.

"He'll sleep awhile now Chris. You know there's not that much wrong with his body anymore, but his soul is taking a long time to heal."

"Soul usually does." Chris spoke from experience. "I'll stay with him Nathan. You look tired."

Nathan knew he was nowhere near as tired as Chris, but he gave Chris the time with their friend. "Wake me up if he needs anything."

"I will."

Part Fifty-five

By mid-morning, a lazy rain had started again through the town. Chris stood looking out the door of Nathan's clinic at the puddles pockmarking the street. Behind him, Vin slept quietly, tucked under the blankets. He wasn't sound asleep - at any noise or movement, he'd stir and Chris could tell he was paying attention, even within his eyes closed. Once he opened his eyes at the sound of two men shouting a greeting to each other across the street, but then he'd seen Chris who told him: "It's OK, nothing to worry about." and he nodded and fell back asleep.

For at least the dozenth time this morning, Chris wondered what he was doing here. Except for that one instance, Vin didn't need him nearby to sleep. Nathan hadn't left any medicine for Vin to take at regular intervals, there was no impending medical crisis to be watchful for. Vin was just sleeping, his body trying to regain all the strength it'd lost and hadn't been given enough chance to recoup yet. Didn't need another person hovering around for that to happen. Just needed dark and quiet and a comfortable bed.

No, Chris didn't know why he was here. He shut the door and sat back in the chair next to the bed. Except - maybe he was here for himself.

He'd had JD check out Vin's room last night, then checked it himself before turning in for the night. Nothing out of place, the bed had been slept in, which Chris thought was a good sign. But Vin had left his hat, his gun, and his holster behind when he left the room, and that was never good.

So, was he here to make sure Vin didn't wander off unarmed again? Didn't wander off into the elements with no hat or coat. Didn't wander out of Chris' life without a word, or explanation, or goodbye.

Chris sat and watched Vin sleep, and didn't know why.

+ + + + + + +

Broad daylight found five friends sitting down to a meal at the boarding house, the last man taking his seat after the others had been there a quarter of an hour or so.

"How are they?" Josiah asked, as Nathan sat down with them.

"Vin's sleepin', Chris is worryin'. Been thinkin' I should kick Chris out ‘fore I get myself another patient..."

"What happened to him last night?" JD asked. "To Vin?

"Can't say for sure." Nathan told him. "Bad dream, bad memories..."

"Or a lotta anger he ain't never let out before." Buck offered.

"You think he really hates his mother that much?"

Buck started to answer JD's question, but Ezra beat him to it. "No, he loves her that much. A man who truly felt such antipathy towards his mother would consider her well gone, at whatever stage of his life he lost her. The passion and rage you describe him as conveying, in my experience, generally comes from a heart that has loved so much yet feels that love has not been returned, and cannot fathom why."

+ + + + + + +

Vin woke up in Nathan's bed.

Again.

He rolled over to find Chris Larabee in the chair by Nathan's bed.

Again.

"Back in here, hunh?" he asked.

"Looks like." Chris agreed. Vin seemed coherent now, the fever and confusion of this morning gone. "So what happened?" Many possibilities presented themselves to Vin. He picked the one that bothered him the most.

"Fell asleep."

Chris thought Vin was being deliberately vague. "Before that." and Vin worked to remember what happened before he fell asleep.

"Had supper with you." and Chris still thought he was funnin'.

"I ain't got time for this Vin."

"Time for what?" Vin asked, honestly confused. "Y'asked what happened. I fell asleep in that bed, wrapped up in that damn quilt y'thought I needed so bad. Fell asleep and poor drunk Petersen nearly got his head blowed off thinkin' my room was his 'n rattlin' the knob." Vin sounded angry. "Let my guard down..."

"So what's that got to do with damning your mother to hell?" Chris asked. Vin looked at him wide eyed, that memory wasn't so clear.

"I done that?" the anger was gone, replaced by distress. Chris nodded.

"Josiah and JD found you out there in the cemetery, cursin' your mother and tryin' to bury her headstone in mud...you were cursin' her for leavin' you Vin..."

"She did leave me..." Vin's voice became small. "I wanted to go with her and she left me. All I could hear was some heartbeat, somebody holdin' me n' she kept tellin' me I had to stay. Kept tellin' me I had to hold on, only she wouldn't tell me what it was I got to hold onto..."

"When you was sick..." Chris said.

"Just wanted to go with her, didn't want t'stay here...just wanted to be with my Ma ...she left me..." he turned over again, away from Chris and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders.

Chris didn't know what to say to him, so he just let him be.

+ + + + + + +

Vin was getting mighty tired of being tired. He opened his eyes and wondered how long he'd been asleep this time. He'd been sick before, it never took him out this hard or this long. He needed to be on his feet again, on his own again. Being sick was making him vulnerable, more than just physically. That had to stop - and soon. He could stand risking his life nearly every time he went outside, he was used to that. But risking his spirit was something else entirely.

He rolled onto his back, expecting to see Chris next to him. But the chair was empty, and the only other person in the room was Nathan.

"Hey Vin - how y'doin'? Brought some food up for you - think you could eat something?"

"I ‘spect I could..." He was still tired, and even speaking took effort. "Chris ain't here?" His voice sounded odd to his own ears, rough and higher pitched, even though his throat didn't hurt anymore.

"No, praise the Lord. Y'got him fussin' so much I couldn't hardly stand it... what are you smiling at?" Nathan asked, as an amused grin crossed Vin's face.

"Chris - fussin'..." he took a breath. "Seen rattlers sunnin' theirselves on a rock... ain't as still as he can be."

"Yeah, and I seen mothers with sick newborns, ain't as fussy as he can be neither... here, let me help you sit up..."

"Thanks..." Vin sat with his back against pillows against the bedframe and Nathan handed him a bowl of stew. "Guess maybe I shouldna gone out overnight, hunh? Fishin' I mean."

No, you shouldn't have... Nathan wanted to say, but it wouldn't do any good now. "I think it did you some good, being out with Chris, out where you feel comfortable. More to an illness sometimes than just physical symptoms. Man's spirit has to heal too..." Vin looked up at him, surprised that Nathan seemed to have read his thoughts.

"Yeah..." Vin ate the stew and Nathan sat down at the table to read a medical book. "Nathan? How come y'took care of me?" The healer was surprised by the question.

"We're friends. Of course I'm going to take care of you." But Vin shook his head.

"Nathan - them fellas tried t'lynch you could walk in here wounded, and you'd take care of ‘em."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't be none too gentle with ‘em now, would I?" But he looked at Vin's face and knew he wanted a serious answer. "Why wouldn't I take care of you Vin?"

"I never had much truck with doctors ‘n such." Vin told him, taking another mouthful of stew. "Doctor couldn't save my Ma. Lots of ‘em won't take care of you, ‘less you can pay ‘em somethin'. Some call theirselves doctors ‘n ain't. Cut y'up worse'n Kiowa..." he was done with the stew and Nathan took the bowl from him. "Never took much to bein' touched, or havin' folks too close to me..."

"Reckon you had about all the touchin' you could stomach then, bein' sick."

"Yeah...that weren't all bad though...just seemed that nobody ever wanted t'touch me, when I'm growin' up, lessen they was hittin' me for somethin'. Guess maybe I just ain't used to it not hurtin'...how long am I gonna feel tired like this? Reckon I ain't slept so much since I'm a baby."

"You'll be tired till you're well Vin. human body heals best when it's at rest."

"That rhymes Nathan - you could be a poet." he grinned at his friend.

"Go back to sleep Vin." Nathan had to smile too. "Sooner you sleep, the sooner you'll be well."

"Yeah..." Vin eased himself back down under the blankets and turned on his side. "I ‘preciate it though, Nathan. You takin' care a'me. Lettin' me put you outta your bed."

"You don't have to thank me for that Vin."

"Puttin' up with Chris bein' here day and night..."

"Okay, you owe me for that..." Nathan sat on the edge of the bed. He was about to pull the blankets higher, but instead he gently rubbed his hand back and forth across Vin's shoulders. Vin tensed, but didn't say anything, so Nathan continued doing it. "Your body will heal Vin, whether you want it to or not...you have to want your spirit to heal..."

"You been spendin' too much time with Josiah..." Vin said, and hoped Nathan wouldn't leave off touching him too soon. It reminded him of how his Ma used to get him to go to sleep when he was so full of thoughts and ideas that he couldn't seem to lay still. It was working now, his eyelids grew so heavy, and the world seemed to disappear into a pleasant muffled blur.

When Vin was asleep again, Nathan stood and pulled the blankets higher. "You've gotta want your spirit to heal, Vin." he said again.

Part Fifty-six

Chris had something to eat, then took a chair out on the boardwalk, watching the traffic and townspeople, but with a clear view of the door to Nathan's clinic. He had a book in his hand, but he didn't read it. This town was getting too small for him. Too many people, too many things to worry about.

His eyes went up to the clinic.

Too many people to worry about.

Before coming to this town, before saddling up with the Seven, he hadn't worried about anybody - including himself - since Sarah and Adam died. Probably the most concern he showed all that time was for his horse and his guns.

Now look at him. When did Chris Larabee decide it was the best thing to do to sign on to protect a town with six other rootless, wandering, demonized men? When did that part of him that cared about anything start to come back to life? Just when did that happen?

When he saw a scrawny, determined shop clerk pick up a buffalo gun to stop a lynching or die trying, all by himself.

So now that "shop clerk" lay sick and recovering up in the healer's clinic while Larabee tried to reason himself out going back up there to talk. Vin wasn't a kid like Billy who needed his ogres reasoned away. Talking to Vin wouldn't bring his Ma back, wouldn't erase the pain of being beaten by his grandparents, talking wouldn't change one thing that had gone on in his life.

So why was Chris getting to his feet and walking towards Nathan's clinic?

He was nearly across the street when Buck hailed him from the boardwalk. "Got a minute? Wire just came in from Ute City, gotta fella up there confessed to killin' somebody hereabouts coupla years ago..." and Chris turned and followed Buck back to the telegraph office.

+ + + + + + +

Vin found his boots kicked under the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress to pull them on. His hat and his gun weren't anywhere around, so they were probably still back in his room. His room. As though he'd ever referred to it that way. It was a room, is all. He'd no more call it his room than he'd call an empty stall at the livery his stall. Just a place to rest a bit is all. Even with all the new gewgaws Chris and them all had thrown in there - just a place the wind and rain couldn't get to you is all. He no more owned it than he owned the ground under a tree. Less maybe even. He could get tossed out of his room a lot sooner and a lot more legal than somebody could roust him off open land.

His room.

The room.

Damn room.

He got his boots on and headed for the door. He'd get his hat and coat and gun, then saddle up his horse for a long ride, get his thoughts back together. Get the pain and memories and sadness tucked back in where they belonged, where they couldn't hurt him no more. At least for a while.

Just as he got to the door, Vin looked out the window and saw Chris walking in the direction of the clinic, and a heaviness lifted off of him. Maybe he'd get Chris to go with him. Probably not overnight, Chris and Nathan would never stand for that. And Vin didn't feel sound enough to argue with them. Just out and away for an hour or so. He wouldn't even plague Chris none about how old he was or nothing. Just ride.

When he opened the door though, he saw that Buck was standing with Chris, talking serious about something. Then Chris turned and the two men walked away, and the heaviness settled back into place. Vin shut the door and sat in the chair in front of the woodstove. He had no strength to go anywhere now.

+ + + + + + +

Vin was still sitting in the chair half an hour later when Nathan came back to the little room. "What are you up to?" Nathan asked.

"Nothin'..."

"Goin' somewhere? Got your boots on."

"Was goin' back -" his room? Damn room. "- boardinghouse."

"Not yet you ain't. Y'can sit in that chair awhile if you feel up to it, not for long though..."

"Yeah..." Vin tried to rub the tiredness out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Nathan? You remember where you were twelve years ago?"

"I remember - still in slavery. War wouldn't start for another year and a half."

"You still know anybody from back then? Anybody you still see or still friends with?"

The line of questions puzzled Nathan. He turned the other chair around to sit across from Vin. "No, can't say as I still see anybody I knew twelve years ago. How ‘bout you?"

"Naah, nobody I'd want to see...y'think any of us'll still be together twelve years from now? Still friends, still even recognize each other?"

"Sure we will..." Not that Nathan thought that was true, but he figured it was the answer Vin wanted - or needed - to hear. "Don't you think we will?" The only answer Nathan got was a shrug. Wasn't bad enough to be sick here and now, Vin was worrying about what his life would be like in a decade. "Where do you see yourself twelve years from now Vin? If you was to picture right now what your life will be like, what d'you see?"

Vin gave Nathan a confused frown. "I don't know...never looked s'far ahead. Tomorrow is as far as I look usually...don't know..." he repeated when he saw that Nathan was waiting for him TO look that far ahead. "If I'm still alive, reckon I'll still be on the trail...lessen I'm too old to even sit my horse..." He said that seriously, and Nathan had to smile. In twelve years Vin might be as old as Chris Larabee was now. Larabee wouldn't take kindly to being thought of as too old to sit a horse. "Just out, alone, prob'ly in the rain somewhere and can't get a fire goin'. Just cold, wet, alone..."

"Always comes back to that, don't it? Bein' alone."

"Always was alone. Sometimes the more folks was around, the more I was alone..."

"Hard havin' friends now, ain't it Vin? Get by on your own for so long, hard to know who to trust - or why you should trust them. I'll tell you, took me a long while t'trust white folks. And yeah, a time or two I trusted people I shouldna trusted. A time or two I helped people I might not help now if I could go back and change it. Still, I'd rather do good for somebody who don't deserve it, than risk not doing it for someone who does. I'd rather waste some trust on a person who don't deserve it, then waste my life keeping myself away from friends."

"I had friends ‘fore, Nathan." Vin said, a little defensively. "Had lotsa friends. Just none...that stayed. None I stayed with. None that I cared when we split up."

"You care now, don't you?" Nathan asked, though he knew the answer. "You care now and it scares the hell outta you, don't it?"

Vin looked around the room. He wished he had his hat, he could pull it down over his eyes, he could hide that way. "Yeah, it scares me." he whispered. He wouldn't look at Nathan.

"Growin' up bein' a slave, the folks you loved and cared about could get sold, or killed, or run away...that makes me scared to love people now. Thinkin' - knowin' - that I could lose them anytime." Nathan said. "What scares you about carin' about people Vin?"

Too many instances of wasted affection - some ignored, some mistaken, some thrown back at him like frigid water - jumped at Vin. "I'm always in the way. Couldn't do nothin' right. Couldn't find nobody wanted me around. I'm always dirty, cold, and hungry. Was always ‘don't touch that, get away from there, what're you lookin' at? you don't deserve that, that don't belong to you, get away from me...' wasn't till I fell in with buffalo huntin' and showed ‘em I could shoot that anybody thought I was worth havin' around. Even then it was only as long as I could shoot, and did shoot. Weren't me, just my shootin' that mattered..."

"Vin-" Nathan cringed at the pain in his friend's story, if not in his voice. "You feel that way? With us? You know it ain't your gun hand you're valued for, not by the rest of us."

"Reckon I saved y'from bein' lynched." Vin offered.

"Reckon I saved your life a time or two since then." Nathan countered. "That the only reason you like me? The only reason you'll have me around?"

"...'course not...you're a good man, y'care about folks, you -" But Vin stopped before he cut his own throat any more. Nathan was giving him an amused look. "I know." he said. "But knowin' and knowin' are just two different things."

"Yeah, they are..." Nathan agreed. Then Vin said no more, only sat as pulled into himself as he could get. "I'm goin' over to get us both something to eat...you get tired, you lay back down, hear?"

"Yeah..." but when Nathan was gone out the room and down the steps, Vin stood by the window, wondering where Chris had gone.

Part Fifty-seven

Sitting alone in Nathan's room, visions of everything he'd ever done wrong, and every wrong ever done to him, crowded Vin. He felt every blow, heard every rebuke, swallowed every insult. He saw the herds of butchered buffalo bleed and rot before his eyes, and felt the aching emptiness of native people left to freeze to death as they starved. The visions swarmed him like hornets, angry and stinging, bent on destroying him.

Nothing ever made them go away for long. It seemed that as long as he was on the trail, goin' somewhere, anywhere, they stayed back a ways. But now, these past days he'd been bound to this room, maybe even the past months he'd bound himself to this town, they were back with a vengeance, suffocating him more than his illness had ever come close to.

He closed his eyes.

And was surprised by a feeling of safety hovering in his memory. He expected it to be the memories of his Ma from his delirium, but it wasn't. He thought maybe it would be falling asleep wrapped up in that damn quilt they'd put on his bed.

But it wasn't.

Something he couldn't make out, just at the corner of his mind's eye, was keeping the swarm at bay. For now anyway.

For now, that was all he asked.

+ + + + + + +

Nettie carried a basket of food up to the clinic. She found Vin on his hands and knees, reaching to pull something out from under the bed. "Ha! Got it!" he proclaimed, coming up with a crumpled piece of paper.

"Vin Tanner - what are you doin'?"

"It's my will - Chris helped me write it yesterday - day before maybe..." the days still ran together. "Ain't done yet though...I ain't thought what to leave you..." He pushed himself off the floor and sat on the bed to smooth the paper out on his knee.

"Honey, you don't have to leave me a thing. With all that you've done for me, you don't owe me anything." She set the basket on the table and stood before him.

"Wouldn't y'want somethin' to remember me?" Vin asked, his voice suddenly quiet.

"Of course I would honey. I didn't mean it to sound that way. " She sat on the bed next to him, but didn't touch him. "Just don't want you thinkin' you have to..." She wondered why the paper had been wadded up.

"You'd take the money, wouldn't you Nettie? If I was to tell you - ask you to take me back to Tascosa for the reward if I was dead, you'd do it, wouldn't you?" Nettie gave him a level look.

"Well now Vin, I can't say as that would be something it would cheer me especially to do."

. Vin made a noise of exasperation. "Never knew s'many people'd throw away five hundred dollars. I'd be dead, what'd it matter whether I'm laid out in Tascosa or this town. Dead's dead, don't' y'all understand that?"

"No boy, dead ain't dead." The way he was belittling himself made her angry. "It matters to a lotta folks where their loved ones lie. I'm glad I got my man nearby, means something to me..." Nettie glanced at the partially open door and decided to try another tack. "Would you bring any a'your friends back for the bounty?"

"Bounty huntin's what I used to do." he reminded her bitterly.

"That don't answer my question Vin. If Chris was wanted, and he died, would you swap him for five hundred dollars?" she asked. Vin took awhile to answer, thought about lying, but finally shook his head. "And why not?"

"...'cause...he should be buried with his family..."

"That the only reason?"

"No...he deserves better than that..." the words slowly dragged out of Vin.

"That's right. Deserves better than to be hauled hundreds of miles on the back of a pack horse, swelling and rotting in the hot sun, for nothin' more'n a handful of money..."

Nettie's words brought Vin's visions back, the buffalo dead and rotting, blood clinging to his hands, swallowing him into the sand. He stood abruptly to be away from her, afraid he was going to be sick, and a new vision erupted in his mind - a body, nothing more than the rotted trunk of a man, half-buried in sand, chest cavity stuffed full of paper money. His hands gripped the edge of the table to keep steady and upright and he closed his eyes and tried to summon that unknown thing at the edge of his mind that would chase the swarm of pain and guilt away.

But it didn't come.

"It's a lotta money." he tried one more time. He spoke each word separately. "Folks could use that money. Town could use it. If I'm dead, what difference does it make?"

"It makes a difference Vin..." the low gravel of Larabee's voice from the doorway spun Vin where he stood. How long had he been there? "You think I'd want to profit from your death?" Vin didn't know where to turn his eyes. He could stare down Larabee's anger, but compassion and concern undid him. He stared at the floor.

"I think I'd want some good to come outta my dying. Ain't been worth much to folks while I'm alive, let me be worth something when I'm dead."

"Ain't been worth much?" Nettie said, surprised. "All you done for folks in this town...how can you think you ain't worth much?" But Vin couldn't answer her. What she was saying only proved that it was his gun and deadly accuracy that people valued. Not him. Chris had an idea that this conversation would go in circles if he let it. "Nettie -" he said lightly. She turned to him, and he silently motioned with his head, asking her for some time with Vin alone. She nodded and stood up, and left the clinic without a word. Chris shut the door behind her.

"She don't understand..." Vin said. He hadn't lifted his eyes from the floor.

"No, she doesn't." Chris agreed, thinking that Vin didn't understand either. What had he been thinking earlier? That Vin didn't need his monsters chased away? Well, maybe he'd been wrong about that. He took an apple out of the basket of food on the table next to Vin, and set himself in the familiar chair. "Guess I don't understand either Vin." Chris looked the apple over, but didn't take a bite out of it. "Maybe you'd explain it to me."

"Explain what?"

Chris took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Ever since you seen them orphans with the O'Briens, it's like something has been carving pieces out of your soul Vin. I know you don't hate them kids, I know you know you're worth more than the bounty on your head. You been sick, and dreaming of being a kid again and getting beaten by your grandparents. You were gettin' better till I took you out overnight, then that wall closed you right up again and you were hollerin' at your Ma. Now you're arguin' with Nettie because she won't agree that all you're worth is five hundred dollars." He stopped speaking until Vin raised his eyes to look at him. "Help me understand where we're headed with all of this..."

It took a long minute of neither of them speaking, then Vin pulled the other chair another foot away from Chris and sat down in it. "I don't know."

Well, Chris had been expecting that. He knew Vin probably didn't have a clue where they were headed, but he wanted to force him to look at all that had been going on, and choose for himself where it would take him. The monsters under the bed were his own memories and fears, and only Vin could chase them away.

"Where are you now?" When you're lost, the first thing to do is get your bearings.

"Here..." It wasn't meant or said sarcastically. Just the most obvious answer. "At Nathan's, in town, with you..." Vin's mind worked a little harder, trying to further define his answer. "I been sick, so I'm at the clinic here in town where I live, and I'm sittin' with a friend..."

"And where d'you suppose you're headed?" You get your bearings, then you choose your direction.

"Don't know Chris...bein' sick, havin' all them memories ambush me, makin' me think of things, remember things I thought I'd done away with..."

"That's where you been Vin, what about where you're headed?"

Vin shook his head. "Where I been and where I'm headed seems like the same place most a' the time. Makin' my way, tryin' t'survive...where you reckon you're headed Chris? If you was to look ahead, ten or twelve years from now - where you reckon you'll be?" The sudden shift in conversation took Chris by surprise. "Y'ever thought about it?" Vin added.

"Reckon I thought about it..." Chris' eyes narrowed, recalling the various bits of hopes and wishes from his mind. "Guess I hope to be married again...a yardful of kids... workin' the ranch again..." The bits and pieces formed themselves into an actual vision. "Havin' a picnic...got all the hay into the barn..." He saw himself surrounded by family. "You still can't play that harmonica..."

"I'm there?" Vin was plainly astonished to be included.

"You're there..." Chris said, his sight still focused on his future. "Teachin' my youngest Kiowa curse words that she'll probably get more use out of than..."

"I'm there?" Vin asked again, and his voice brought Chris back to the present. He saw the look on Vin's face - some need, some fear, clearly answered. "Where the hell else y'gonna be?" Chris demanded.

"I don't know...never put much thought into it...just figured..." His voice and his thoughts ground to a halt. "...reckon there's worse things I could teach your younguns..."

"Yeah, like playin' a harmonica..." Chris said, and a smile lit across Vin's face briefly.

"Hardly anybody ever wanted me around..." Vin said, deadly serious again. "Not unless I could do somethin' for ‘em. Nobody ever wanted me just ‘cause it was me. There was never anywhere I ever could just stand back and say I belonged there. Never anywhere that seemed to want me to belong."

"What about the Indians?" Chris remembered Vin referring to living with them.

"Well...there's white men who'll always hate me for even once being with Indians. And there was Indians hated me ‘cause I'd always be white...'sides...weren't always a guest..."

The implications of that last statement hit Chris hard. "Vin -" he almost asked, but did he really want to know what lay behind that casual remark? He decided to forgo the past and push on to the future. "There'll always be a place for you at my fire...and for one reason only - you're my friend." He kept his voice low, almost afraid of someone overhearing him. Words didn't count as much to him as actions, but this time it seemed the words needed to be said so that the actions would be clear. "You will always belong with me. You understand that?"

Clearly not believing, though clearly desperate to believe, Vin nodded.

Part Fifty-eight

Things got very quiet in Nathan's clinic after Chris spoke. Vin stared at his hands in his lap a few moments, feeling his face burn hot and red. He didn't want to believe Chris, didn't want to not believe him, and couldn't find any words to say to him. The silence grew embarrassing and overwhelming. Finally Chris said: "Here..." and Vin looked up in time to catch the apple Chris tossed at him, as he stood up to fish himself another one out of Nettie's basket.

"Thanks..." Grateful for something to do, Vin took a bite. "Glad the rain finally stopped." he said, after he chewed as long as he could. It sounded almost like a question. But it was something to say.

"Yeah...street's so muddy y'can hardly get through it."

"Yosemite'll have a lotta work, horseshoes being pulled off n'such."

"Reckon he will." Chris agreed.

Something danced inside Vin, wanting to be said and not knowing how to say it. Y'owe somebody, y'watch their back, that's how he usually dealt with it. Don't tie everything down in a lotta words that you can't take back or spruce up later. Words didn't matter - words couldn't matter if what you wanted was to not get staked out on ‘em.

"Seems like it's gettin' colder out too..." he offered, taking another bite of apple.

"Yep, weather's turnin'."

Still, the calm panic of a gunfight was the last place a fella'd be thinkin' you saved his hide ‘cause he once made a place for you in his life. That was a different kinda owin' than owin' him your life.

But Vin had no words to say thank you for caring, thank you for just bein' there, when anybody else coulda been but only you filled the emptiness. How d'you tell anybody, much less Larabee, that he made the swarm of bitter memories and regrets stop? Chris watched Vin, who sat staring at the half-eaten apple in his hand. He could see a storm raging across Vin's features and thought that now, after all they'd been through in the past week, maybe now he could bring himself to talk to Vin.

"Keepin' me awake, you're thinkin' so loud over there..." Chris tried, and was surprised to see tears in Vin's eyes as he raised his head.

"I'm always alone." Vin said, unexpectedly. "Spent my life alone, makin' sure nobody got close. Just reckon'd it'd always be that way. Couldn't see it bein' no different." He lowered his head briefly, to wipe at his eyes. "Y'know what it's like? Goin' years without nobody touchin' you, lessen y'paid ‘em? What it's like when don't nobody want t'be near you, ‘cause they's afraid a'you, or you're too dirty, or y'can't make the words t'say what y'want and won't nobody take the time to listen?" Chris wanted to look away, he couldn't bear the pain in Vin's eyes. But he kept his eyes level. Wherever Vin was headed with this, Larabee would go there with him.

"Always been alone, even when I'm with them other buffalo hunters, or the Indians. Just always was never really part of ‘em. I wanted t'be. There's times I tried so hard to fit in with ‘em, fit in with anybody just so's I could say I belonged somewhere. When I'm still a youngun, I'd see families in town, maybe one of ‘em would talk to me, or give me a penny for watchin' their things while they's in the general store, and I'd always just figure this was it. This was the family that'd come take me home with ‘em. These'd be the brothers I always wanted, that'd be the Pa who'd help me grow up to be a man just like him. They'd be the people finally would...love me..." Vin's voice caught on the last words, embarrassed to be saying them. Tears slid down his face and he bent his head again to scrub them away. "But it never was..." He coughed a little. Chris started to respond, but Vin cut him off.

"Knew a girl in San Antone - she'd say she loved me, iffen I paid her extra...she could sound really like she meant it too..." He shook his head. "Stopped tryin' finally, tryin' to belong somewheres, anywheres. Went from tryin' to belong so bad, t'tryin' so hard to keep everybody away. Even so..." It got harder for Vin to talk, and harder for Chris to listen to the anguish. "When I saw them orphans with the O'Briens Chris -" he raised his eyes again to find Chris'. "- I just wanted so bad -- just thinkin' - stupid idea anyway - but just thinkin' that somehow if I'm to be a little ‘un again, Miz O'Brien'd take me in and I'd have a family and a place I belonged and folks that'd be not afraid to touch me..." He curled his fists white knuckled into his lap and stared determinedly at them, already regretting pouring his heart out to his friend. But he went on.

"Y'know what it's like? Being a youngun willin' to just about sell yourself to someone - hell, I don't mean that way." He suddenly realized what he'd said. "I didn't - I'd never...dammit..." he softly cursed his ignorance of words.

"Vin -" Chris leaned forward then, to reach across the distance and put his hand on Vin's arm. "-I know what you mean-" but Vin pulled away.

"Y'say I belong with you, but I don't know how to believe you." Vin wouldn't meet Chris' eyes now. "Any place I ever felt like I mighta belonged always just got torn away from me. If I believe you now and I lose it Chris - I can live without it, but I can't lose it, not again..."

Many things ran through Chris' mind - please God, let Josiah walk in now, he'd know what to say. Please don't let Nathan walk in, he'll kill me for gettin' Vin upset. Please -

"Vin?" and Chris only then realized the mistake he'd made out at the campsite. He waited till by the slightest shuddering motion, he could tell that Vin was paying attention to him. "I'm sorry - it was me."

"What was you?" Vin lifted his head only enough to ask the question. He wished again that he had his hat to pull down over his eyes, or his jacket so he could push his hands into the pockets, and just hide.

"I was holdin' you Vin. When you was sick..."

"What?" clearly confused, Vin stared at Larabee and waited for him to explain. But it was hard for Chris to explain it to him. He'd rather kept it hid - for Vin's sake, but for his own as well.

"You were sick, didn't know what else to do." And Chris found he couldn't meet Vin's startled gaze. "Seemed like you were thinkin' a'leaving. Was the only way I could think to keep you here..."

And God - there it was.

Vin took a breath and intended to say something, but the puzzlement was evident across his face and words - even thoughts - failed him entirely. The visions crowded him - not of the dead and dying that stormed his dreams to drag him down to hell - but of the warm strength and steady heartbeat that had kept him here, had kept him safe. But making the comforting safety of his memory fit the deadly gunslinger in front of him was gonna take some time.

Just when Vin thought he'd be able to say at least a word, Buck opened the door and came into the clinic. "Hey Chris, got the telegram back..." he noticed but didn't remark when Vin jumped out his chair, letting the apple fall to the floor, and turned away from them to rinse his face with water from the basin.

"What'd y'hear?" Chris asked, keeping one eye on Vin.

"Fella's name is..." Buck held the telegram up to make the words out again. "Ellis...P-U-C-H? Puk? "

"Puke?" Vin turned around, dragging a sleeve over his eyes to clear the water. "You got Ellis Puch? Who's he sayin' he killed now?"

"You heard of him?" It wouldn't surprise Chris.

"Heard of him? Hell - I spent eight days and five dollars draggin' his worthless carcass up to Leadville, just to find out he never killed nobody. Only thing he ever killed was a bottle a'whiskey and a good story...he ain't here is he?" Vin sniffled just once and wiped a little more water out of the corner of his eye. "Fool'll tell you he killed everybody from President Lincoln to President Lee. Hell, Lee weren't even dead when he said it..." Vin paced the room to the bed to be away from them.

"So, if this here fella claims he killed somebody in this town, we ought not to believe him?" Buck asked Vin's back.

"Not less y'want to waste your time for no good reason. Y'got him in jail? Mise well let him go. Lessen it's a crime to bore good folk to distraction..." Vin dropped his voice to be speaking to himself. "...gotta get my hat and coat..." He looked around himself, wanting to be away, wanting to have time to think.

"No, he's in Ute City..." Buck said and sighed. "Reckon I'll check with Mary and Nathan first if this killin' sounds familiar, just in case. Then wire back the Sheriff, thanks but no thanks..." He turned to leave the clinic, with a look at Chris and a nod of his head to Vin still turned away, that meant he knew something was going on between the two and Chris should look to it.

Chris shook his head that he understood and would do his best, and he shut the door after Buck. "I'll get your gear for you Vin, you know what Nathan would say if he found you wanderin' around ‘fore he said you could."

"Pfff - know it? I'm surprised I ain't been sayin' it in my sleep..." Vin didn't want to turn around, didn't want to face Chris. But he couldn't hardly avoid it when Chris came up beside him.

"You be here when I get back..." Chris said, his voice low with concern and threat.

"Nowhere I got a mind t'be headed to..." Vin allowed.

"Allright then..." and Chris walked away. He was nearly out the door and about to shut it behind him when Vin called out:

"Chris - you make sure my door is locked when you leave?"

"You bet." Chris said, giving Vin the ability to say that hardest word off all. He met Chris' eyes and nodded once.

"Thanks."

Part Fifty-nine

Buck crossed the street back to the clinic to let Chris know he'd sent the telegram back to Colorado. He looked up and saw Vin sitting at the top of Nathan's stairs. He was leaning his head against the railing, and his eyes were closed. Buck walked over and climbed the steps up to him. "Hey Pard - everything okay?"

"Yeah." Vin didn't - and wouldn't - elaborate. He rubbed his eyes and rolled his shoulders.

"You and Chris get everything squared away?" Buck asked. Vin looked surprised then puzzled. Then he looked down the street toward the boarding house.

"Chris tells you everything, don't he?"

Buck sat down next to Vin. "'Tell'? No, Chris don't never ‘tell' me anything. Gotta drag everything out of him, same as you most times...two pods guarding the same pea..." He said it good-naturedly and Vin had to smile at the comparison. Still, he changed the subject.

"Strange afternoon, ain't it? Warm wind. Thought it was getting kinda late for that."

"Still ain't warm enough you ought to be sitting out here Vin. You know what Nathan would say if he caught you out here."

"Yeah, I know." Then a silliness took Vin and he drew a breath and did his best to mimick Nathan. "I done told you, you want to get better, you gotta stay in that bed. What good is all my helping you men if you don't do what you're told...?"

"Or JD..." Buck imitated the fast pace of their friend's concern. "Vin - what're you doing out here? You ain't supposed to be out here. You know Nathan told you to stay in bed. You gotta get back in there in that bed before he finds out. You know you're just gonna get sicker you stay out here..." Both men laughed so hard, Buck could hardly take the breath he needed. "Or - or - wait - Josiah..." He solemnly put a hand on Vin's shoulder "Son, there's times in life we all got to do what we don't want to." He had the deep tone down pretty well. "If you trust Nathan with your life in a gunfight, you have to trust him now when you've had quinsey."

They both laughed even harder and Vin put his hand on Buck's arm to steady himself. "How ‘bout Ezra? Aw hell, I don't even know enough letters to put one of his words together." But he took a moment to think of something. "Now Mr. Tanner, I feel I must agree with our..." The word took some work but he remembered it. "Our c-o-m-p-a-t-r-i-o-t-s in their...their sizing up of your..."

Buck supplied the words. "Pitiable perdicament..."

"Yep, them's those five dollar words." Vin wiped his eyes and the best thought of all came to him. "No - wait - wait..." He could hardly talk for laughing. "I've got it - Chris..." and he folded his arms and struck a stern face at Buck. He could only hold it a moment before he couldn't stand it and they laughed themselves silly again. Buck laughed so hard he forgot it was Vin and not JD sitting next to him and he put his arm around him.

"Oh - that was a good one. You looked so much like him you scared me..." Buck did the face and they laughed even harder. People passing by thought they'd been drinking. Vin didn't realize for a moment that Buck was touching him, that his arm was around him, till he felt warmer and his tracker's brain did a quick search for the reason. When he saw what it was he looked down at the hand that rested on his shoulder. He felt warmth that was more than just physical from being held. His laughter died down as he contemplated it, till that hand nudged him and Buck warned:

"Hey Pard, look - must be a mirror hunh?"

And Vin looked down into the exact expression he'd just been mimicking. Hearing all the laughter, Chris had come back to the bottom of the stairs, and stood with his arms crossed, gazing at them intently.

"You boys having a good time up there?" His eyes and his concern for Vin had immediately taken in that Buck had his arm around him, and that Vin didn't seem to mind.

"Hey Chris! We was just talking about you!" Vin called down, and it broke the two of them into more laughter that they couldn't control. Chris had to keep from laughing himself when Vin bent almost double. Whatever Buck was doing, Chris hoped he could keep it up. He turned to go, to not break the spell of whatever set them off. He didn't turn even when he heard Buck call:

"Chris - wait - Vin's got something he wants to show you!"

He heard their laughter halfway back to the boardinghouse.

Part Sixty: Epilogue

Vin stood outside of the jail, waiting for Chris. He'd been inside awhile too, but he wanted the wind and the dust and the horizon. Nathan had pronounced him recovered - just recovered - and he and Chris were walking through town, gathering up some things for their first reading lesson. Chris was inside now with JD, going through Wanted Posters, picking out the ones it'd be easiest to start with. The box at Vin's feet held a large piece of slate and a hunk of chalk, a primer, pen and ink, and a bundle of writing paper.

"AND THEN WE'RE GOIN' FISHIN' RIGHT PA?"

Too far away to hear any answer, Vin's back stiffened to hear Bart O'Brien coming up behind him. He intended to duck back into the jail to preserve his hearing, but Chris came out then with a sheaf of posters.

"Uh oh." Chris said, looking behind Vin.

"I know, I heard. Hell, I bet they hear him in Purgatory...can't we go back inside?"

"Too late." Chris told him, and they both turned. Mr. O'Brien came down the boardwalk, leading Bart by the hand. In the other hand, he carried a bag of peppermint sticks. Whatever he was saying, they couldn't hear, but Bart was unmistakable.

"OKAY PA...I WILL...'CAUSE IT'D SCARE THE FISH, RIGHT PA?" Then his eyes lit on Vin. "HEY!" and Vin took a step back to be behind Chris.

"Mr. O'Brien..." Chris greeted him. "How are you? Good to see Bart up and around again." "I WAS SICK AND WE'RE GOIN' FISHIN' AN' PA SAYS I HAVE T'BE QUIET OR ELSE I'LL SCARE THE FISH AN'-" and Mr. O'Brien turned to his son with a finger to his lips.

"Shhh..." Rather than being shamed, Bart grinned at his father and skipped where he stood, never letting go of his hand. "Little fella had us worried, for a lotta reasons. Good to have him with us now..." Mr. O'Brien said, then looked to Vin. "Good to still have you with us too, son. Sure were a caution there for awhile." Vin nodded once, and kept his eyes to the boardwalk at his feet. But Mr. O'Brien's next remark made him look up.

"You learnin' your letters?" he asked, nodding at the box.

"Yessir." Vin told him, too dismayed that he'd been found out to do anything but tell the truth. Mr. O'Brien nodded again.

"Good, glad t'see it. A man oughtta always be lookin' t'better himself. My Annie started teaching me soon's we were hitched." He let go of Bart's hand long enough to offer Vin a peppermint stick. "Went by the churchyard afore, that your Mama out there?"

"Yessir." Vin said again. He took the candy and held it tightly in his fist.

"And your Pa?"

"He's gone too..."

"No son, they ain't gone." Mr. O'Brien said gently as he took Bart's hand again. "They're only gone ahead.." He looked around the busy street. "Y'ever get tired a' this town livin' son, you come out to the farm. Always room for one more. We'd be proud t'have you." With one more nod to both men, he set off with Bart. Vin turned to watch him go, shock evident on his face. He unconsciously held the peppermint stick to his chest.

"YOU KNOW EVERTHIN', DONTCHA PA?" Bart started up again.

"Well, almost everything." Mr. O'Brien allowed.

"AN' YOU LOVE ME, DONTCHA PA?"

"You bet I do."

+ + + + + + +

Chris let Vin ponder Mr. O'Brien's words a few minutes, till they were out of eyesight, and Bart was out of earshot. "Ready to get started?" he finally asked. Vin nodded, absently at first, then he bent to pick up the box, keeping the candy safe in his hand. "We'll see how much I know..." Chris said.

"You know everything - dontcha Chris?" Vin mimicked Bart. Chris smiled, and laid his hand on Vin's shoulder, answering the question that would never be asked.

"You bet I do..."

END