Promises Kept by Winnie

"Okay, Larabee, that hurt! How come you don't listen to yourself?" his voice sounded weak to his own ears as he struggled to get back to his feet. The pain in his chest grew each time he moved; yet he really had little choice in the matter. He had to get help, not just for himself but for... "For what, Larabee?" he asked himself as he fell to the dry ground once more.

His left shoulder impacted with the ground and his head swam on an ocean of pain. He swallowed deeply, but there was little moisture left in his mouth. Sand and dirt covered ninety percent of his body. He was pretty sure the only reason the other ten percent wasn't covered in dirt was because of the blood flowing from the bullet wound in his chest. It continued to seep from the single hole and washed the sand and grit away from the area.

He rolled onto his back and looked up at the bright circle of light overhead. His mind refused to work properly and it took a few minutes to remember it was the sun. He lifted his right hand to adjust his hat, but realized it wasn't on his head. "Now where did I leave that?" he asked aloud, laughing at the raspy, croaking sound of his voice.

Hell, Larabee, Buck'd mistake you for a horny bullfrog, he thought. "Buck!" the name brought everything back to him. Wilmington and Tanner were the reason he needed to make it back to Four Corners. He struggled to turn onto his stomach and was forced to grit his teeth as pain radiated from the hole just to the right of his left arm. "G...gotta get h...help!" he hissed breathlessly. Once he made it to his feet he waited for the spinning world to right itself before forcing one foot in front of the other. His mind slowly wondered back to the day before when all hell broke loose.

It was late evening and the sun would soon be below the horizon as the three peacekeepers from Four Corners rode towards the town they'd sworn to protect. They'd gone to the town of Barton's Crossing at the request of Judge Orrin Travis. He'd sworn in a new sheriff and wanted them there to help clean the riffraff out of the town. Between the three of them and the new sheriff they arrested eight men and ran ten more out of town. They'd stayed in the town for three weeks until the federal Marshall and his men picked up the men they'd arrested. Now that the job was over the three men were on their way back to the town they called home.

"Hey, Bucklin, what's the first thing ya'll do when we get back ta town?"

"Hell, Vin, do you really need to ask him that?" Larabee asked as he rode between the ladies' man and the tracker.

"What's the matter, Chris, you jealous?"

Larabee's eyebrows rose and he turned a cocky grin on the scoundrel. "Of you? No, I don't think so, Buck. Your reputation with the ladies is gonna get you killed one of these days."

"Yeah, Buck, ya just barely made it outta Barton's Crossing with your Di...ah dignity intact!" Tanner quipped.

Wilmington swallowed with some difficulty as he remembered the long blade coming towards his crotch. He was being held between two men while the angry husband slowly cut the buttons from his pants. He didn't even know the woman was married, but the husband wasn't willing to listen to that. The man smiled as he told Buck how he was going to turn him into a Eunuch.

"She told me she wasn't married," he said softly.

"Hell, Buck, that never stopped you before," Larabee said seriously. "You're always tempting fate with Blossom. One of these days her husband will come back and he'll find out you've been dipping in his well."

"Chris!" the ladies' man couldn't help but smile in spite of Larabee's warning and choice of words.

"He's right, Bucklin, yer gonna git caught," the sharpshooter told him.

"It ain't my fault that the ladies can't resist my..."

"Animal maggotism," Tanner finished.

"That kid's gonna get it when I get back to town," Wilmington laughed, but was suddenly serious as he noted the look on the black clad gunslinger's face.. "Something wrong, Chris?"

"I think we got company," Larabee warned.

"We do," the tracker affirmed from his right side. "Looks like it could be three or four of 'em."

The black clad man looked towards the rock formation on his right. "Let's ride!" he shouted as the sinking sun reflected off metal halfway up the cliff face.

Three horses raced across the ground, kicking up dirt and sand as their hooves hit the hard packed ground. A single gunshot echoed off the cliffs as they raced past the spot where the sun reflected off the metal.

Larabee saw Tanner shudder and knew he'd been hit, how bad, he didn't know and there was no time to find out. He looked towards Wilmington as he raced along beside him and knew he'd also seen Tanner's reaction. He turned back to the younger man just as Vin turned towards him.

"Keep going! I'm alright!" the sharpshooter shouted, knowing to stop now would probably mean certain death for them all. A bullet hit the ground to the left of Wilmington's gray and the big horse stumbled into Pony.

Larabee saw what was happening and pulled Pony to the left, barely missing Peso as they raced ahead. He chanced a quick glance over his head and saw three horses racing towards them. He looked to his right and watched in horror as Wilmington was pitched forward in his saddle.

Buck felt the bullet tear into his right side and was barely able to hold onto the saddle. A deep burning pain soon followed the impact and he knew he was hit badly. He shuddered as his knuckles grew white with the effort to stay in the saddle. He couldn't chance turning to his left to see what was happening as his world was suddenly one mass of pain filled agony.

Larabee turned towards Tanner and shouted, "Buck's been hit bad! I'm gonna see if I can stop them! You get him to that cave and wait there! I'll join you as soon as I take care of these guys!"

"Too many!" Tanner shouted back.

"No choice! Get out of here! I'm counting on ya, Tanner!" Larabee hissed as he expertly swung Pony around. He heard Buck's protests, but knew Tanner was leading him towards safety. He concentrated on the men coming towards him, pulling his pearl handled revolver from his holster as he did so. He waited until they were closer and sighted on the lead man. He eased back on the trigger until the deadly projectile left the slender barrel. He didn't need to see the man fall to know his shot found its mark, but the rider less horse confirmed the shot was true.

He sighted down the barrel and waited for the next man to come into focus. Again he eased back on the trigger, but before he could follow through on the shot something slammed into his chest and drove the air from his lungs. He lost his grip on the reins and tumbled backwards. He landed heavily on the ground, but held onto his gun. Dark spots swam before his eyes as he struggled to clear his vision. He turned onto his stomach as the sound of approaching horses met his ears.

"Shit!" he shouted as he fought to breath.

"Drop it ya son of a bitch!"

The words were hissed next to his ear and he realized he'd blacked out for a few seconds. He tried to steady his arm as he turned towards the man who'd spoke the heated words. His eyes focused just in time to see a booted foot headed towards his arm. He bit his bottom lip as the gun flew from his hand as the boot connected with his elbow.

"Where's that son of a bitch headed?" the man who kicked him snarled.

"Don't know," Larabee snapped as he held his right arm against the bleeding hole in his chest. His eyes focused once more and he recognized the two men from Barton's Crossing. He knew these men were after Buck Wilmington and he wasn't about to let them catch him.

The man reached down and clasped his hand in Larabee's black duster. "I'm gonna catch that bastard and he's gonna pay fer messin' with my property."

Larabee wanted to give Tanner time to get Wilmington to safety and he laughed in the man's face. "If you'd've kept your property," his voice was laced with sarcasm as he spoke, "satisfied, she wouldn't have gone to another m...man." Chris had little chance to set himself for the vicious blow that connected with his jaw. He felt the hands release him and he lay back fighting to stay conscious.

"Hey, Carter, I bet I know where they're headed," the second man said.

"Where, Burt?" Carter Thompson snapped.

"There's a cave about a mile north of here. If they know about it they'd be headed there because of the shelter and the creek that runs along beside it," Burt Thompson explained.

Carter smiled as he looked at the man lying on the ground. "Is that where he's headed?" he asked as he pulled Larabee to his feet.

"Go to hell!" Larabee snarled in spite of the weakness seeping through his body. He knew he was losing blood, but didn't have time to worry about the consequences.

"That's where I'm gonna send your friend Wilmington. Straight to hell where his miserable hide can burn like it should. Give me a rope, Burt!" Carter ordered

Burt lifted the rope from his saddle and hurried back to the two men. He grabbed Larabee's arms and pulled them behind him.

"No, Burt, tie his hands in front of him. He's gonna walk to the cave since he don't got no horse. Hope those boots of yours are comfortable, Larabee."

Burt quickly wrapped the thin rope around Chris's wrists and attached a longer piece to it.

Thompson pulled a dirty kerchief from his pocket and pulled Larabee's shirt open to reveal the savage bullet hole in his chest. He smiled in satisfaction as the gunslinger couldn't hold back the soft grunt of pain. "That should hold you until we get to the cave."

"Why are we takin' him with us?"

Carter Thompson moved until his face was nearly touching the blond's as he explained. "He may just come in handy when we get to the cave. If Wilmington and Tanner decide to shoot it out we can use Larabee here as a shield."

Burt smiled as he wrapped the rope around his older brother's saddle. "That's a great plan. How come I never thought of it?" he bent down and picked up the discarded revolver and shoved it down the back of his pants.

"Because I was the one born with the brains in the family. Now let's get moving. Try to keep up, Larabee, I'd hate to see you dragged with the bullet wound ya got."

The gunslinger concentrated on breathing as the mounting pain in his chest threatened to send him into unconsciousness. He heard the two men climb on their horses and forced his rubbery legs to move. The pace was a little fast, but Chris knew he needed to keep up, these men would not have any sympathy for him if he fell. They'd drag him until they reached the cave. Somehow he needed to take these two down before Buck Wilmington was forced to give up his life to save his own. Buck, if we get out of this alive you're gonna swear off women for at least a week, he thought as the journey began.

The sharpshooter heard the gunfire, but couldn't turn to see what was happening. He grabbed the reins from Buck's hands as the man fought to stay in the saddle. Vin could see the red stain on Wilmington's right side. His own left leg was on fire as Peso raced away from the sound of gunfire. He knew the bullet was still in there and could feel it grating against the bone. He spotted the dark opening of the cave up ahead and hurried both horses towards it. He kept glancing towards the ladies' man, hoping and praying the scoundrel could hold on a little longer. The cave grew steadily closer as the hooves raced across the open expanse of earth.

"Fuck!" he swore as Wilmington lost his hold and tumbled to the ground. He pulled Peso to a stop and hurried towards his downed friend. "Buck!" he called as he knelt beside the injured man.

"V...Vin!" Wilmington's blue eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to focus on the man kneeling beside him.

"Yeah, Buck, come on we gotta get ta the cave!"

"C...can't...y...you go!"

"Now ya listen here, Wilmington. Chris is back there giving me time ta get ya ta the cave. Now shut up arguin' and get up! I ain't got the energy ta tote yer hide and I ain't 'bout ta leave ya 'ere!"

He let the sharpshooter pull him to his feet as he gasped. "Awful b...bossy...when a m...man's hurtin'," the scoundrel stopped as he remembered seeing Tanner take a bullet. "How b...bad ya h...hurt?"

"Took one in the thigh," Tanner told him as the two men struggled to get Wilmington back on his horse. "Now hold on this time will ya?"

"Ain't got much bedside manners, Tanner!"

"Ya're not in a bed, Wilmington! Now shut up and hold on!"

Vin hopped to Pony and quickly mounted. Once more they raced across the ground until Tanner pulled them to a halt in front of the cave. He saw Wilmington losing his grip no the saddle again and hurriedly dismounted. He caught the larger man as he tumbled from his horse. He swore as his own injured limb couldn't support the combined weight and the two injured peacekeepers landed in a heap on the ground.

The sharpshooter waited for his head to stop spinning before sitting up and checking his companion. Buck has lapsed into unconsciousness and Vin knew he would have to drag the older man into the cave. He suppressed a groan as he stood up and clasped Wilmington's shoulders. The pace was agonizingly slow as he dragged the heavier man towards the dark opening. Thoughts of Chris Larabee's fate haunted him, but he couldn't take the time to dwell on it. He made it to the cave opening and soon had Wilmington inside. He hurried back to the horses and grabbed his Mare's leg, saddlebags and canteens, before returning to the shelter. The sun had all but disappeared now and the dull twilight made it hard to see. He set the supplies on the ground and hurried back outside to tend the horses. The interior of the cave wasn't big enough to shelter the animals and Vin hurried to tether them by the tiny creek running along the side of the hill. He knew they'd need both horses once they took care of whoever was after them. He kept watching their back trail as he made his way back to the cave. There was no sign of Chris or their pursuers and his fear for his friend's safety continued to grow. He stood in the entrance, his leg burning as he tried to stay on his feet.

"Vin, any s...sign of C...Chris?"

"No," Tanner answered simply as he moved to check Wilmington's injury. "Did it go through?" he asked.

"Think so. I c...can feel the blood on my back."

"Let me check," Tanner said as he turned the ladies' man on his left side. "Caught a break there, Bucklin, looks like it went straight through and maybe jest caught muscle."

"G...good. What about you?"

"Bullet's still in there. Nathan'll take care of it when we get back to town." He went back to the entrance and watched for movement.

"Anything?"

"Not yet. I'm gonna clean ya up and get ya bandaged while we got the time. Jest lie still fer a minute."

"Vin, ya gotta go back fer Chris!"

"I can't, Buck, Chris tol' me ta make sure ya were safe!"

"I'm safe, Tanner, but Chris is in trouble or he'd be here by now."

"Ya may be safe, Bucklin, but if'n I leave now ya'll bleed ta death. Now shut up and let me take care of this!"

"Vin, He's..."

"Shut the fuck up, Buck! Shit! Don't ya think I know he's probably in trouble!" the tracker hissed as he poured a small amount of water over Wilmington's bullet wounds. "I'm goin' back as soon's I get ya taken care of now jest shut up and quit arguin'!"

The ladies' man heard the tremor in the younger man's voice and knew Tanner's nerves were pulled tight. He knew about the connection between these two men, had even witnessed it more than once, and fought back the twinge of jealousy he felt. He sat up and let the sharpshooter wrap the wound tightly.

"That should hold ya till I get back!" Tanner said as he finished tying the bandage.

"You'd better take care of your leg before ya go!" Wilmington ordered as he sank back to the ground.

Tanner nodded and shoved a piece of cloth against the wound. He quickly wrapped a second piece of material around it to hold it in place. Thank God for Nathan, he thought as he finished putting the supplies beside Wilmington.

"Buck, there's water right beside ya. Stay put until I get back!" he ordered.

"Ain't goin' nowhere, Tanner!" he mumbled tiredly.

Vin knew the ladies' man had lost a lot of blood. There was nothing more he could do for his injured friend until they made it back to Four Corners. He walked to the front of the cave and swore as his eyes adjusted to the dwindling twilight.

Chris had no idea how long he walked, but his legs kept carrying him in spite of Thompson's efforts to make him fall. Larabee continued to glare daggers in the man's back in an effort to keep his mind off the throbbing pain in his own chest. He continued onwards as darkness began to descend and wondered if Buck and Vin were okay. His body and mind were numb as they continued towards the cave. He didn't realized they stopped until he stumbled into Thompson's horse and fell heavily to the ground.

Thompson climbed off his horse as they came within a hundred feet of the cave. In spite of the advancing darkness he could make out a figure standing in the entrance. He smiled as the form moved back inside. He moved to his prisoner and pulled the gunslinger to his feet. He held the limp form in front of his own body as Burt slid in beside him.

"Get the horses behind cover!" Carter told his brother.

"Sure," Burke agreed and took the reins of both animals. He slipped Larabee's tether from the saddle and flipped it towards his brother before leading the horses away.

"Wilmington!" Carter shouted as he took his gun and held it to Larabee's head.

The ladies' man opened his eyes at his name being called. "Vin?" he asked into the darkness.

"I'm right here, Buck."

"Thought you were going after Chris?"

"I was, but I don't need ta now."

"What are you talking about?" the ladies' man forced his aching body into a sitting position.

"He's right outside the cave!"

"What? Tell him to get his ass in h...here!" the scoundrel hissed.

"He ain't exactly alone, Buck!" Tanner whispered.

"What do ya mean?"

"Wilmington, are you in there?" the sharp voice was clear as it reached their ears.

"Son of a bitch! Is that who I think it is?"

"Yeah. It's Thompson!"

"Help me up!" Wilmington hissed angrily.

"Just stay where ya are, Buck!" the sharpshooter ordered.

"Wilmington, I got a friend of yours out here and I'll kill 'im if ya don't answer me!"

"Shit! Son of a Bitch! Get me up, Tanner!"

Vin knew there was no choice. If he didn't help him, Buck would find a way to do it on his own and just start bleeding again. He quickly hopped to the injured man and reached down to help him to his feet. The two friends hobbled to the cave entrance and watched the men outside.

"Ya hear me, Wilmington? Larabee's dead if ya don't answer me!"

"I hear ya!" the scoundrel called. "Let him go!"

"I can't do that ya Bastard! Not unless yer willing to take his place. Are you willing to do that?"

"Don't do it, Buck!" Larabee shouted, clenching his teeth as Carter removed the gun from his head and drove it into his side.

"Chris, you all right?" Wilmington asked.

"He's alive, but he won't be for much longer if you don't get out here."

"I'm coming out!"

"No!" Larabee gasped as Burt Thompson joined his brother. Chris's eyes were drawn to the familiar weapon snuggled down the back of the younger Thompson's pants as the man stood slightly to the left and a foot in front of him.

"Buck ya cain't," Tanner warned.

"Ain't got much choice. He'll kill Chris if I don't do as he says."

"Are ya coming out or do I kill your friend right now. You come outta there and maybe I'll just let this one and your other friend go!"

"I said I'm coming out! Just give me a damn second!"

"Gave you enough time. I'm counting to three and if you're not out here Larabee's gonna be totin' another piece of lead!"

"Buck..."

"No choice, Vin. You and Chris aren't involved in this! I'm comin' out, Thompson!" He pulled away from the strong hold the tracker had on his arm and moved out of the cave. He could feel Tanner's anger as the younger man continued to watch the scene unfolding in the darkness. The stars were shining overhead and illuminated the three figures standing in front of the cave.

"Chris, you alright?"

Larabee didn't bother to answer as he lunged forward and grabbed the gun from the waist of Burt's pants. His hand pulled the pearl handled revolver from the snug pants at the same time as he shoved the man forward. He turned to fire at Carter Thompson and was just in time to see the man falling backwards. The sound of the gunshot he'd heard finally registered and he turned towards the second brother.

Burt Thompson was climbing to his feet just as Larabee pointed his weapon at him.

"Don't try it!" Larabee warned, his body shaking with loss of blood. He felt his knees bending even as he heard his friend's warning.

"Chris!" Tanner shouted as Wilmington lifted his gun and shot the second man. A deep rumbling sounded above him and he looked up in time to see the entrance collapsing above them. "Buck, get back!" he threw himself at the ladies' man and succeeded in getting him away from the entrance just as the rock face completely obliterated the entrance. The impact with the ground drove the air from his lungs and he lost consciousness.

Chris heard the rumbling sound and opened his eyes. He could've sworn it was thunder, but as he looked skywards he could see millions of dancing lights. "What the hell?" he thought as he tried to sit up. It felt as if something heavy was sitting on his chest and he tried to take a deep breath. He turned on his side and made out the dark outline of two bodies. "Vin! Buck!" he shouted and was instantly on his feet, in spite of the lancing pain in his chest. He took a deep breath and sighed heavily as he saw the two bodies were not those of his friends. He lifted his head and glanced towards the cave entrance, only to see the new mound of rock and dirt and other debris piled in front of it. He scrambled across the short distance and picked up a rock. He began pulling small trees and rocks away from the demolished entrance.

"Buck! Vin! Can you hear me?" he called, as pain and exhaustion forced him to give up his efforts to rescue his friends. He sank to the ground and leaned against the nearest rock. He lifted his head as he heard the sound of horses. He knew they were by the creek, but he didn't have the energy to move. He knew the makeshift bandage on his chest was soaked with blood and he forced himself to his feet. He moved towards the creek, intent on finding the horses and hopefully something he could use to stop the flow of blood.

Chris knew he must've lost consciousness for a short period of time as the moon had made its appearance in the thick carpet of stars overhead. He was grateful for the added light as he made his way to the horses. He walked up to Peso, talking calmly as he closed the distance between himself and the horses and quickly noted the missing saddlebags. Turning to Buck's gray he became aware the item was also missing from the saddle. He moved to the edge of the creek and sank to the damp, soft ground beside it. He dipped his right hand into the water and cupped it. He lifted the cool liquid to his mouth and drank greedily. He repeated the process until his thirst was slaked.

He slowly pulled the black duster from his shoulders, barely suppressing the cry of pain that threatened to escape his tightly clenched throat. "Shit!" he hissed as it finally slid from his body. He lifted the edge of his shirt and removed the blood soaked kerchief from the wound. He dipped the soiled material into the water and rinsed the blood from it. He used the wet cloth to wash the blood from the red, swollen, ragged bullet wound, gasping as he fought to stay conscious. The pain was almost too much, but he forced himself to do what needed to be done. Again he rinsed the cloth and this time he squeezed the excess water from it. He shoved it onto the wound and pulled his shirt tight against it. He shivered in spite of the heat rising from his body. Once more he cupped his right hand and dipped it into the water. He brought up the handful of liquid and dumped it over his head. The shock of the cool water hitting his head and sliding down his neck helped to revive him and twice more he repeated the move.

He took a deep breath and stood up once more. Moving on shaky legs he stumbled back to the cave intent on rescuing his friends. It took longer than normal for him to cover the short distance, but he was finally sitting next to the pile of debris. He reached out, ignoring the pain from his chest and began removing the rocks, trees and other items trapping his friends inside.

Buck opened his eyes and tried to move, crying out as he realized it was a mistake to do so. He lay still, coughing up the dust and dirt he'd inhaled and waited for the pain to recede. He held his right arm against the wound in his side and forced his body upwards until he was in a sitting position. A weak moan from beside him brought home the fact that he wasn't alone. "Shit! V...Vin!" he reached out his left hand until his fingers touched an unmoving body.

"V...Vin, wake up," he coughed and groaned as he released his grip on the younger man.

The sharpshooter pushed upwards until he was leaning on his elbows, gritting his teeth as the pain in his left leg continued unabated. "B...Buck?"

"Y...yeah. You okay?"

"Think so. You?"

"I think so. Sides' bleedin' again though."

"Hang on!" Tanner ordered as he searched the area for the saddlebags. His hands landed on the leather straps and he pulled them towards him. He opened the satchel and fumbled around in the darkness until his hands fell on the matches. He pulled them from the bag and lit one. The sudden flare of bright light hurt his eyes, but they quickly adjusted. Dust continued to settle sending flickering shadows across Wilmington's pale dirt covered face. "Ouch!" he hissed as the flame touched the tips of his fingers and he shook out the match.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just forgot to watch the flame. I'm gonna clean yer side and then see 'bout diggin' us outta here," he explained as he moved closer to his friend. "Lie on yer side, Buck!" the tracker ordered. He felt the older man lower himself to the ground and he quickly lifted the shirt. As he lifted the tacky bandage from the wound he felt the heat surrounding the ravaged flesh. He could feel the ladies' man tense up as he poured a small amount of water over the area. "Sorry, Buck," he mumbled.

"It's o...okay, Vin, j...just caught me o...off guard's all," Wilmington assured the younger man.

Tanner helped the ladies' man sit up and quickly wrapped a bandage around his midsection. "Can't do much more'n that right now. Rest'll have to wait until Nathan can take care've ya."

The scoundrel sat up and reached for the younger man's shoulder in the darkness. "Your turn, Vin."

"I'm okay..."

"Probably, but I'm gonna take a look anyway. Where's the matches?"

"I got 'im, but we'll be using up the air in 'ere if'n I keep lightin' 'em."

"Don't matter 'bout a couple of seconds of air. Light one Tanner and let me see what I gotta do." Wilmington felt the shoulder slump, but smiled as a match illuminated their prison. He quickly tore the pants surrounding the bullet wound and pulled the bandage away. He got a quick look at the wound just before the match went out. "Pass me the canteen and the bandages," he ordered. He soon felt the items in his hand and poured a small amount of water over the wound. He ignored the muffled moans from the tracker as he quickly wrapped a thin bandage around the leg. "That should hold ya for a little while."

"Thanks, Buck. I'm gonna see about digging us outta 'ere. Ya'd better lie still 'fore ya start bleedin' again."

"Could say the same thing to you, Tanner. We're in the same boat and right now it looks like it's a matter of sink or dig. It'll take both of us to keep this boat afloat."

The tracker knew the other man was right, he knew as soon as he started moving the wound would bleed again. The two men remained silent as they moved to the pile of debris trapping them in the cave. Soon the only sound in the cave was the labored breathing of the two injured peacekeepers and the sound of rocks being shoved aside.

Chris had no idea how long he'd been digging, but numbness had replaced the throbbing agony in his chest. He looked at the small amount of rocks he'd removed and knew it wasn't nearly enough. Dawn was streaking its way across the sky, yet for all the hours he'd worked there was no end in sight. Frustrated and angry he lifted a fist sized rock and pounded it against a large boulder buried beneath other stones, branches and dirt. Again and again he hit the rock, causing sparks to flick into the air.

"Buck! Vin! Are you guys alright?"

Tanner lifted another rock and threw it towards the back of the cave. A sound reached his ear and he stopped moving as he tried to pinpoint where it came from. A small smile lit his face as he realized it was coming from the other side of the barrier.

"Buck, stop!"

"What? W...why? Are y...you o...okay?" Wilmington's voice sounded weak and filled with pain as he spoke into the darkness.

"I'm fine, Buck, listen."

"Buck! Vin! A...are you o...okay?"

"Hey, That's Chris!"

Tanner heard the excitement and relief in the other man's voice. "Yep it is!"

"Chris, we hear ya. Are you okay?"

Larabee smiled in spite of the pain as Tanner's voice penetrated the barrier of rock and dirt. He sank back against the rock surface and took a deep breath to steady himself.

"I'm fine, but t...there's too much stuff blocking the entrance. I...I'm g...gonna n...need help clearing t...this shit away! Think you two can hold on a while l...longer?"

"Shit, Vin, something's wrong with him!"

"Yeah, I hear it too, but he ain't 'bout ta tell us what it is."

"We'll be fine! Are you sure you're okay?"

Chris smiled at Wilmington's question. He knew he wasn't hiding anything from his two friends but tried to put them at ease as he answered.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired of trying to dig your sorry carcasses outta that cave. It'll take me a couple of hours to reach Four Corners, figure another hour to get everything together and then two hours back. It's just comin' on daylight so I should be back just after lunch. And Buck...you're gonna swear off women for a full week..."

Tanner couldn't stop the laugh that erupted from his throat. He could imagine the chagrined look on Wilmington's face as Larabee's words met their ears. He listened as the ladies' man tried for a lighthearted tone in spite of the pain he was in.

"A week? Hell, Chris, that's gonna be easy. Nathan's probably gonna keep me in the clinic that long."

"Should've made it longer, Cowboy!"

"I'm talkin' once you're outta the clinic, Buck. I'm leaving now. You boys hold on till I get back. O...Okay?"

They heard the tremble in the usually strong voice as he stumbled over the last word. Even in the darkness the two men felt fear over Larabee's condition. There was something he was keeping from them, but right now they could only take him at his word.

"Alright, Chris, you just make sure ya git back 'ere in one piece. Watch yer back, Cowboy!"

"I won't be long."

"Shit!" Buck groaned as he held his arm against his side.

"What's wrong?"

"Think my side's bleeding again. Can feel somethin' sticky running down my back."

"Let me take a look," Tanner reached into his pocket and pulled out a match. It soon flared in the darkness and he could see Wilmington was right. He snuffed out the match and spoke sharply to hide his concern. "Why the hell didn't you stop when I told ya to? This keeps up ya'll bleed ta death!"

"What's the difference between bleedin' to death and smotherin' once the air runs o...out" the scoundrel gasped as Tanner's hands removed the bandage from his side.

"I don't aim on dyin' right now, Bucklin, and I don't want ta hear that outta you! We both promised Chris we'd be here when he gits back..."

"If he gets back. We both heard him, Vin. He's hurtin'."

"Yeah, he is, but he's countin' on us. Now shut up and let me finish this so's ya can lie down and rest yer ornery hide!" His patience was wearing thin and he knew he was being harder on the man than he needed to be.

"Ain't gonna lie down. Best we can do is keep diggin' and hope we can make a hole big enough ta let some air in h...here!"

"Yer fuckin' lyin' down if'n I gotta tie ya down, Wilmington!" he snapped.

"Ain't got much bedside manners, Tanner!" the ladies' man gasped as the younger one cleaned and re-bandaged the wound.

"Case ya haven't noticed yer not in a bed. Ain't got no time fer manners. There, Now stay put and shut up 'fore ya use up whatever air we got left in 'ere!"

"Bossy and..."

"Shut up!"

Wilmington knew the younger man wasn't angry with him. He could hear the worry in the Texan's usually steady voice and knew he was nearing the end of his rope. For once the ladies' man did as he was told, hiding the guilt he felt. He knew it was his fault they were trapped in this cave and he listened as the sharpshooter went back to work on the debris. He drifted towards sleep, knowing he didn't have the energy to help the tracker anymore.

Chris stood up and heard the sound of a horse off to his left. He knew Peso and Buck's gray were by the creek. It took a few seconds for him to remember Burt Thompson had moved the horses into the brush before they'd been killed. He couldn't leave the animals tied there with no water and he stumbled towards the sound. He spoke soothingly to the horses as he got closer and soon had the reins in his hands. He led them to the creek and ground tied them close to the water. He removed the two canteens from the saddles and placed them near the edge of the creek. Next he searched the saddlebags for anything he could use to cover the wound in his chest. He fumbled through the first saddlebag and found nothing useful. The second one yielded a well-worn, but seemingly clean white shirt hidden in the bottom.

Chris took it to the edge of the creek and sat down. In spite of the pain it caused he used both hands to tear the shirt into strips. He pulled the soiled kerchief from the wound and discarded the useless item. He soaked a piece of the cloth in the creek and again cleaned the wound, breathing deeply as the cool water burned its way into the hole.

"Son of a bitch!" he gasped aloud, angrily fighting back the darkness the pain was trying to send him to. His friends needed help, he didn't have time for this. He finished cleaning the wound and placed one of the dry pieces of cloth against it. He lifted his left arm, gasping for air as he used his right hand to wrap the bandages around his shoulder and tied it as best he could. He sat where he was waiting for the world to stop spinning before struggling to his feet again. He walked towards Peso, talking calmly to the animal as he reached for the reins.

"Sorry, Boy, but we gotta r...ride," he said as he pushed his feet against the sides of the horse. Peso obeyed the commands as if this man owned him. This was a path he'd rode many times and he knew instinctively where he was going.

Mary Travis smiled as she saw the two men sitting outside the jail. She carried the newspapers under her arm as she walked towards them.

"Good morning, Mrs. Travis."

"Hi, Mary."

"Good morning, JD, Ezra. What time are you expecting Chris, Buck and Vin back?"

"Mr. Larabee assured us he would be returning to our fair town no later than noon hour today. That gives him another hour and forty minutes. Is something wrong, Mr. Dunne?" Standish asked.

"Huh?" Dunne asked.

"You look as if you've seen a specter!"

"Specter?"

"Spirit, ghost, doppelganger." Standish told him.

"No...none of them, but isn't that Chris's horse?"

"Pony? Where?" Standish asked as he stood up and glanced around the newspaperwoman. He watched as Dunne raced towards the end of town. "I do believe Mr. Dunne is correct in his assumptions." He hurried after the Bostonian and could hear JD talking calmly to the skittish animal.

JD ran his hands down Pony's legs and sides before looking at the two people standing beside him. "He don't seem to be hurt. He's hot and sweaty like he's been racing, but I can't find nothin' else wrong with him."

"Do you think he threw Chris?" Mary asked as she watched the young man continue his examination.

"That's highly unlikely, Mrs. Travis. Even I would not take odds on such a happenstance. Mr. Larabee is a fine horsemen and if the rumors are in any way substantiated there isn't an animal that could throw him. I shall endeavor to find our colleagues and inform them of Pony's return."

"Josiah and Nathan are in the saloon."

"Thank you, Mrs. Travis."

"I'm gonna take Pony to the livery, Ezra."

"Alright, Mr. Dunne I shall return with the others post haste!" Standish ran towards the saloon and shoved open the swinging doors. He immediately spotted Josiah Sanchez and Nathan Jackson seated at a table at the back.

Nathan looked up as the man hastily approached them. "Something wrong, Ezra?" he asked.

"Pony has just rode into town sans Mr. Larabee. Mr. Dunne has taken him to the livery," he explained as the healer and the ex-preacher stood up to follow him. The three men hurried out of the nearly deserted saloon and ran towards the livery. They entered to find Yosemite and JD pulling the saddle from the sweaty animal.

"Nathan, Josiah, we gotta go look for Buck and Chris and Vin" Dunne's excited voice rose and fell as he spoke.

"We will, JD," Jackson assured him. "Is he hurt?"

"Don't appear ta be," the liveryman answered. "Seems ta be a might tuckered out though! I'll give him a good rubdown and some extra feed. Should be as good as new by tomorrow."

"Thanks, Yosemite. JD, Ez, could you two get the horses saddled and ready to go in half an hour."

"Right away, Mr. Sanchez," Standish assured him.

"Nathan, think maybe you need to..."

"Get my supplies," Jackson finished for the ex-preacher. "I'll gather my things and be back here in half an hour."

"Yosemite, we may need to borrow your wagon," Sanchez told the liveryman.

"Anything ya need ya can 'ave, Mr, Sanchez. I'll get it ready right away," the large man hurried to get the things he thought the peacekeepers would need. Within half an hour the small contingent of men rode out of Four Corners. Yosemite would follow their trail as soon as he had the wagon ready. They knew the general direction the missing men were coming from and they prayed they'd find them safe and sound.

Chris lay on his back, gasping for air as he stared up at the swirling sun overhead. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious this time, but he knew he'd been reliving the events of the day before, at least he thought it was the day before. He couldn't be sure how much time passed since he slid from Peso's back and rolled down the hill. He felt as if Peso now sat on his chest as he tried to roll over.

"Shit!" he hissed as he finally turned onto his stomach. He couldn't remember crawling back up the hill, but he was grateful he'd done so already. He lifted his head and looked down into the small gully and knew he wouldn't have had the energy to climb out of it now.

"Should've made it a goddamned month of no women, Wilmington!" he rasped as he coughed the dust from his lungs. The dryness of his throat reminded him of coarse sand gritting against his skin. He struggled to rise to his knees and finally gained his feet. He stood with his right hand held tightly to his chest as he gasped for air. The sun was halfway across the cloudless sky and the heat shimmered off the hard packed ground in front of him. He forced his body to obey the commands his fevered mind put out. He wondered why he'd had the misfortune of falling off Peso, yet the canteens had remained on the saddle. He'd do anything for a drop of water, but there was none to be found. He stumbled forward unaware that his eyes were partially closed and he had no way of knowing he'd stumbled off the main trail. On and on he staggered, hoping and praying he'd be in time to get help for his trapped friends.

"Son of a bitch!"

"V...Vin, w...what hap...pened!" Wilmington stammered.

"Just dropped a rock," Tanner answered. He was worried about the older man. Wilmington's breathing was punctuated with gasps of pain as he lay in the darkness.

"Ya been dropping rocks a...all day, Vin..."

"Not on my thumb, Buck!"

"Ouch, I've done that a few times. It h...hurts." Wilmington coughed and groaned as it tore at the wounds in his side.

"Here," the sharpshooter pressed the canteen into his hand and listened as Wilmington drank his fill.

"Thanks."

It grew quiet once more in the confines of the cave except for the gasping breaths of the two men. Vin knew the air was growing thinner and it was important he make a hole for fresh air to seep in.

"Vin, I...I'm sorry."

Tanner leaned tiredly against the rocks as he lifted another one from the pile. "For what?"

"For getting y...you and C...Chris in this mess. He always said I think below my waist and h...he's right. Didn't mean to get you t...two..."

"Buck," Tanner interrupted. "Ya are who ya are and Chris knows that. We've all made enemies, some more'n others. More often than not trouble comes 'cause of the price on my head or Chris's reputation. Hell, do you blame us fer that?"

"N...No...b...but..."

"No buts, Buck, I'm proud ta call ya friend and if'n we don't make it outta 'ere I don't blame ya."

Again the two men grew silent until Wilmington's weak voice once more broke into the darkness. "How long since Chris left?"

"Gotta be close ta four hours now."

"Think he m...made it?"

The tracker heard the hope in the stammered words and tried to set the injured man's mind at ease. "Ya know Chris as well as I do, Bucklin. He ain't a quitter. He's probably had a couple of shots of whiskey at the saloon while he's waitin' fer the others ta git their shit together! Now lie down and be quiet 'fore ya start bleedin' like a stuck pig again!"

"Could say the same thing for you, Vin. How's the leg?"

"Numb, but least it ain't bleedin'." Vin turned back to the pile of rocks and slowly started moving as many as he could. He knew he'd lied to Wilmington. He could feel the blood seeping through the bandage the older man wrapped around his leg. There were other things he needed to worry about now though. Like keeping them alive. He hoped he hadn't lied to Wilmington about Chris too. He hoped he did make it back to town, he just tried to ignore the bad feeling as he wearily continued to move the rocks.

JD led the way along the route he knew the others would be taking. He was proud of his abilities. Vin Tanner had been teaching him to look for signs and he was getting very adept at tracking. The sharpshooter was already praising him and saying he had natural abilities.

He looked up as a soft whinny sounded in front of him. He instantly recognized Peso and rode quickly towards him, talking softly so as not to startle the animal.

The others watched as Peso's head came up and he seemed to stare straight at the kid. JD talked to the horse while the three older men hung back. Tanner's horse would side step the young easterner's grasp, but he was determined to catch the reins. Five minutes after they discovered the lone horse JD held the reins in his hands and dismounted his own horse.

"I got him!" he called to the others.

"Is he hurt?" Sanchez asked.

"I don't think so. He's just wore out like Pony was," Dunne explained as he again ran his hands down the legs of the sweaty animal.

"Any sign of Mr. Wilmington's horse?" Standish asked as he took a sip of water.

"No, but I think I know where they might be," the youngest member of the seven answered.

"Where?" Jackson asked.

"There's a cave a couple of miles south of here. A creek runs alongside the hill and it's a great spot to hold up. Vin says he's slept there a few times when he needed some time to himself."

"Can you find it, JD?" Sanchez asked.

"Sure thing, Josiah," Dunne answered as he remounted. He wrapped Peso's reins around his saddle horn as he led the men towards the cave.

"Some friend you are?"

He heard the raspy croak and was surprised when he realized it escaped from his throat. He knew he was on the ground again, with the sun beating down on him.

"Not too smart, Larabee. Should've at least tried to make it to the shade. What the hell'm I doin' out here anyway?" The question was hard to grasp, yet he knew there was something important he was supposed to be doing.

Think, Larabee where were you going? What the hell's wrong with your chest? he thought. "Buck, Vin, get yer ass moving!" he ordered as he forced himself to stand.

A dry tongue snaked out and stuck to chapped lips as he looked ahead of him. A dark form moved towards him and he smiled as the familiar form took shape. "Nathan!" he called and slid back to the ground as the healer dissolved before his eyes. He felt his eyes closing and battled against the encroaching darkness.

Have to get help, he thought as he climbed back to shaky legs. Once more he began a stumbling gait, unaware he'd just by-passed the route into Four Corners.

Vin pulled another rock from the pile, hoping against hope he'd see a sliver of daylight once he dropped it to the ground. He looked up and was disappointed once more. He sighed as he lifted the canteen and took a sip of the tepid liquid.

"B...Buck!" he gasped and reached for the other man. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the steady rise and fall of Wilmington's chest. "Just hang on, Bucklin, we're gonna get outta 'ere!" He turned back to the job at hand and continued to dig through the rocks and other debris. He kept one ear tuned to the sound of his friend's breathing, praying it would continue in spite of the dwindling air.

"There it is!" Dunne shouted and pulled up short as he saw the landslide covering what should've been the opening to the cave. He dismounted and hurried towards the destruction.

Nathan Jackson's eyes were drawn to the two bodies lying on the ground to the left of the cave. He dismounted and moved towards the two figures, breathing a sigh of relief as he realized both men were strangers.

Ezra Standish heard the sound of horses and headed for the creek as Josiah Sanchez followed Jackson to the bodies.

Jackson knew without touching them the men were dead. He looked up as the ex-preacher joined him. "Looks like they died sometime yesterday." He moved towards a dark stain closer to the cave. He ran his fingers over it and looked up at his friend. "This is blood!" he exclaimed worriedly.

"Theirs?"

"No. Least I don't think so. If it was theirs there'd be a trail leading over to them."

"JD, can you hear anything?" Sanchez called as he watched the younger man pounding one rock against another.

"Nothing yet, Josiah!" he called. "Buck! Vin! Chris! Are you in there?" the kid shouted.

"Buck? If you're in there let us know!"

"Vin, s...stop!"

Tanner looked up at the weak cry. "What's wrong?"

"L...listen!"

The sharpshooter could hear the hope in the older man's voice as he mumbled the word. He listened, but heard nothing at first and was ready to turn back to the pile of rocks.

"Buck! Answer me! Are you guys in there?"

"He made it! T...the s...stubborn son of a bitch m...made it!" Wilmington laughed.

"We're here, Kid!"

"Nathan, Josiah, it's them! They're in there!" Dunne called and looked to the side of the cave as Standish returned with three horses in tow.

"I take it you've discovered the whereabouts of our missing comrades?" the conman asked as he tied the horses with the other animals.

"Are you there, JD?"

"Yeah, Vin, we're here. Are you guys okay?"

Tanner nearly laughed as he moved his leg. He knew they were both far from okay as he answered.

"Not really, JD. Buck been shot and we're a little low on air."

"Tell Nathan, Vin's got a b...bullet in his leg! Is Chris okay?"

JD looked confused at Wilmington's last statement and saw the same emotion on the faces of the other three men as they began removing the debris.

"Nathan's right here and we're working on gettin' you guys out! Isn't Chris in there with you guys?"

Buck could hear his companion's sharply indrawn breath. He'd heard JD's question and knew things didn't bode well for his long time friend. Again guilt washed over him in a wave of pain as he remembered they were in this position because of him.

"Chris left to find help. He was outside when the landslide covered the entrance. Didn't he bring you guys here?"

"No, Buck, Pony came into town riderless this morning and we came looking for you guys. We found Peso a couple of miles north of here!"

"Shit!" Wilmington swore.

"Maybe he took your horse, Buck." Tanner suggested.

"Do you really believe that, Vin?"

"I don't know, Buck, but there's one way to find out."

"JD, is Buck's horse still by the creek?"

"He's here, Vin!"

Tanner heard the voices growing louder and knew the men were close to breaking through the landslide. He renewed his own efforts as it became an even greater struggle to breath the stale air. He could hear Wilmington working beside him and knew they were both wondering the same thing. Where the hell was Chris Larabee?

The air was growing very thin and both men coughed as dust billowed up in the cave as they moved the debris. His mind didn't even register the thin stream of sunlight as it sliced through the newly formed opening.

"You two sit down and stop moving about. From the sounds of it you've both lost enough blood and can't afford to lose anymore. We'll be through in a couple of minutes," Jackson ordered as he listened to the labored breathing of both men.

Vin could barely make out Wilmington's dirt covered face, but what he saw was a welcome sight. The man's blue eyes were open and he was still breathing.

"L...looks like we're g...gettin' o...outta here," Wilmington rasped and gave into the call of darkness.

"Buck!" Tanner hissed and moved to check his friend. Wilmington was still breathing and for this the tracker was grateful. He sat beside the older man and watched as little by little the narrow slit of sunlight grew larger. He smiled as Jackson's face appeared in the opening. "It's good ta see ya, Nate!"

Jackson returned the smile as he said, "good to see you too. Is he alright?"

"Yeah, just passed out."

"What about you?"

"Guess I'm gonna be needin' yer skills as well. Got a bullet in my leg."

"Alright, just relax for a few more minutes and we'll get you both outta there."

"Ya didn't see Chris?"

"No. He never showed up," Jackson remembered the unexplained patch of blood on the nearby ground, but didn't voice his new fears. Something told him the blood belonged to the missing gunslinger. He watched as the hole grew larger and was finally big enough for him to squeeze through. He crawled to the two men and smiled in spite of his worries. "Are you ready to get outta here?"

"Do I even 'ave ta answer that?" Tanner asked as he watched Josiah and JD widen the opening.

Jackson laughed, "No, guess not. Josiah, as soon's ya get that opening big enough we're gonna have to lift Buck outta here. It looks like he's been bleeding pretty bad," he explained as he checked the bandage on the rogue's side. He turned his attention to the sharpshooter's leg and was shocked to see just how much blood soaked through the bandage and the torn pants. "Vin, I'm gonna need to get that bullet out as soon as we're outta here."

"Nathan, I think we can get them out of there now!" Sanchez said as he and JD moved into the cave. He knew the debris surrounding them could collapse at any time and wanted to get his friends out quickly.

"Good. Josiah, take Vin out first. Don't let him put any weight on that leg."

"I can..."

"Vin, just do as I said and don't argue. This place could go again any time and I don't have time to argue. Get him out, Josiah!"

"Come on, Vin," Josiah reached for the younger man as JD Dunne knelt next to the unconscious ladies' man.

Vin released his grip on Wilmington and reached for the ex-preacher's outstretched hand. He bit back a groan as he was pulled to his feet. He leaned heavily on the larger man and was more than grateful for the support.

"T...thanks, Josiah," he mumbled as the older man led him towards the exit.

"I'll be right back to help with Buck," Sanchez told Jackson.

"Is he gonna be alright, Nathan?" Dunne asked worriedly.

"I don't know yet, JD. He's lost a lot of blood, but Buck's as stubborn as a mule," he said as Sanchez rejoined them. "Alright, JD, get outside."

"But..."

"Don't argue, JD, just go!" Jackson snapped impatiently, regretting his words instantly, there'd be time enough for apologies later. He helped Sanchez lift the ladies' man and the three followed the kid out into the evening sunlight. "Josiah, Carry him down to the creek. Ezra, JD, you two help Vin. Make sure you keep the weight off that leg."

Jackson grabbed the reins of the horses and followed his friends to the water. It didn't take long to settle the two injured men on blankets. Nathan grabbed the supplies from his horse and turned to the three healthy men.

"Ezra, get a fire going and set some water to boiling. JD, look after them horses. Josiah, I'm gonna need ya to help me with Vin and Buck."

"What do you want me to do, Brother?" Josiah asked.

"Check Buck's side. Wash it and use some of that whiskey to clean it. We gotta get his fever down. Vin stay put. I'm gonna get that bullet outta there as soon's the water's heated." The healer reached into his bag and pulled out the bottle of laudanum he kept there. "Here, I want you to take some of this."

The sharpshooter swallowed the offering of Laudanum and tried to ignore the burning pain in his leg. He felt his mind slipping towards sleep, but thoughts of the missing blond would keep him from resting peacefully. Where the hell are ya, Larabee? he thought as Jackson tore the pant leg apart.

The pain was back, burning deep in his chest, but it was little compared to the thirst as he tried to find a trace of moisture in his mouth. He'd lost count of how many times he'd stand up, stumble a few feet and then fall again. Over and over he repeated the same process with little thought of how he was moving. The sun was nearly gone now, but it was still light enough for him to make out a simple house up ahead. He prayed he'd find help there and get back to his friends before it was too late. Too late! It's probably already is too late!

"Goddammit!" He cried as he fell to the ground again. His body shuddered with the onset of reawakened nerves as his left arm impacted with the earth. He lifted his head and looked longingly towards the house. He tried to find the strength to stand once more, but blood loss, pain, exhaustion and thirst combined to sap him of his resolve. With one final soul-shattering cry he called for help. He thought the cry would be heard for miles, but the sound didn't travel past his own ears. With a final breath of defeat he surrendered to the inevitable feeling of loss once more. As his head dropped back to the ground a sigh passed his barely moving lips. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"How's he doing, Josiah?"

"The wound looks infected. I've cleaned it up some, but it's oozing bloodied pus."

"Alright, just place a bandage over it till I'm done here," Jackson ordered as he looked into the tired, pain filled blue eyes of the tracker. "Vin, I'm gonna get that bullet out now."

"O...okay," Tanner managed in a breathless whisper.

"Josiah, Ezra, I'm gonna need your help," Jackson said as he set his instruments next to him. "You're gonna have to hold him down while I dig for the bullet. Here, Vin, bite down on this!" the healer ordered as he placed a knotted kerchief in front of the pale man's face. He nodded as the younger man took the offering and then turned back to the injured leg. He lifted the instrument he'd need to probe for the bullet and with one last glance at his friend he went to work. As he pressed into the wound he heard the muffled gasps from the tracker, but turned a cold heart to the cries. He knew what needed to be done and forced his emotions to the far corner of his mind. A place he knew would be there when he was done and as always those emotions would come back tenfold once the job of caring for his injured friends was done.

Josiah watched as the healer concentrated on the removal of the bullet. The steady hands, the hardened face, the calm exterior were something he'd seen time after time. He knew the emotional upheaval that would follow and the exhaustion Jackson would deal with once this was done. He watched as the fine fingers manipulated the instrument, until he found the metal that caused so much damage.

Vin bit down on the knotted material in his mouth. He fought to hold himself steady in spite of the pain and torment, but he felt the trembling as Jackson continued to probe for the bullet. He heard the healer say something about got it just before he gave into the darkness.

"Got it, Vin!"

"He's out, Brother!" Josiah explained as he withdrew the knotted material from the slack lips.

"Thank the lord!" Jackson gasped as he cleaned and stitched the tortured flesh.

"Josiah?" Sanchez looked up at the pale-faced easterner. He knew the kid was worried about the two men, yet he was keeping those feeling well hidden. "I'm gonna backtrack and make sure Yosemite doesn't ride past."

The ex-preacher smiled and nodded as the younger man mounted up and rode out.

"Mr. Jackson, if you are in no more need of my services I shall endeavor to fix something suitable for our meal as well as something for our ailing friends."

"That'd be great, Ezra. Thanks." The healer finished bandaging the sharpshooter's leg and draped a blanket over him. "Ez, can you put more water on. I want to have some willow bark tea ready for both of 'em when they wake up."

"Of course, Mr. Jackson."

"Alright, Josiah, let's have a look at Buck," the healer knelt beside the unconscious form and felt the heat in the prone body. He lifted the bandage from the wound and reached for his instruments. He took the clean scalpel and applied a small amount of pressure to the ravaged area. He felt Buck move slightly and cry out as he drained the lingering infection from both entrance and exit wounds. He looked up and met Sanchez's eyes as the flow lessened and soon was just a trickle of blood. He accepted the bottle of whiskey and cleaned it again, patting Wilmington's shoulders as a cry of outrage spilled from his throat.

"Easy, Buck, I'm almost done," Jackson soothed the injured man. "Josiah, see if you can get a little of this down into him."

Sanchez accepted the Laudanum, poured a small amount into a spoon and lifted the sweaty head. He held the spoon to the mouth and slowly fed the laudanum past the partially open mouth. "Come on, Brother, swallow it. That's it," he said as the ladies' man accepted the medicine.

"T...thanks J'siah, w...water!"

"Give him some water, Josiah. Buck, I'm just gonna put in some stitches and then we'll let you get some sleep."

Wilmington swallowed the water and nodded his head. His blue eyes opened and settled on the two men kneeling beside him. "V...Vin...Chris?"

"Vin's lying right beside ya. He's gonna be fine and you will too if you'll do as I tell ya."

"C...Chris," the scoundrel rasped.

"Don't know," Jackson answered honestly. "He wasn't here when we got ya out."

"G...gotta f...find him N...Nathan... some...thing ...wrong... heard it... voice..."

Although Wilmington's words were scattered, Jackson, Sanchez and Standish had little trouble understanding their meaning. Chris Larabee was out there somewhere and he was hurt. Wilmington was telling them something they already knew, but until now hadn't vocalized.

Casey Wells rode back from Four Corners just as twilight was taking over the land. She'd gone into town in hopes of seeing JD Dunne, but had found out the young man left just before noon. She'd picked up the few things her Aunt asked her to and left for the ride back. She'd stopped off for a short time by the river before returning home in time to help her aunt with supper. As she turned into the yard she spotted something black lying in the field a short distance from the barn. She hopped off her horse and hurried up to the house.

"Aunt Nettie! Aunt Nettie!" she called as she shoved the door open

Nettie Wells stepped out of her bedroom and smiled at the lively young girl before her. "Land sakes, Child, what's gotten into ya?"

"Aunt Nettie, I think there's someone lying out by the barn!"

Suddenly serious the older woman walked to the porch and looked around. "Where?" she asked.

"He's over there on the other side of the barn. He's all dressed in black an' I think it could be Mr. Larabee," Casey explained as she ran across the dust covered front yard.

Nettie Wells followed her niece and bit back a gasp as she recognized the blond haired man on the ground. He was lying on his stomach, his left arm tucked under him, blood congealed in a small pool next to his body. His black duster and wide brimmed hat were missing and the sun had done a major job on his bare face and neck. She hurriedly knelt beside her niece and touched his neck. The skin was dry and heated, but she felt a soft flutter just below the skin.

"Is he...d...dead?" Casey stammered.

"No, he's alive, but he's hurtin'. Run on up to the house and get one of the blankets off my bed."

"Blanket?"

"Yes, Casey. We'll need it to carry him on. Now Git!" She heard her niece hurry away and gently touched Larabee's forehead.

Chris felt a rough hand on his face and forced his eyes open. It took a few minutes for his eyes to focus and he smiled in spite of the burnt skin on his face. "M...Mrs... W...Wells... help... Vin...Buck!"

"Now you just be still, Mr. Larabee. It's too late for Casey to go into town, but don't you fret none. She'll go into town first thing in the morning and bring back your men. All of 'em."

"T...tell Na...than B...Buck... V...Vin hu..rt!"

Nettie could see the confusion in the glazed green eyes as she heard Casey returning. "She'll tell 'em all, Mr. Larabee. Now me and Casey are gonna get you inside. Can you tell me where you're hurt?"

Chris thought for a minute, trying to figure out where exactly most of the pain was. He clenched his eyes and concentrated as every part of his body ached. "C...chest... shot..." he mumbled.

"Shot!" Casey gasped as she spread the blanket beside the injured man.

"Mr. Larabee, we're gonna roll you onto the blanket and get you into the house..."

Larabee's right hand reached out and touched her wrist. "Too heavy," he groaned. "Help...up."

"Mr. Larabee..."

"N...no, won't...can't h...hurt y...you. H...help me up. L...lean on y...you," he assured her.

"Alright, we'll try it your way," Nettie said, knowing to argue with this man was a lost cause. "Casey, you help him on that side. Let's turn him on his back. Mr. Larabee, it'll be easier if we turn ya over."

"O...kay," he mumbled as she reached for his shoulder and slowly turned him.

Nettie and Casey knew he was holding back the pain, not wanting either of them to see just how much this was costing him.

Chris called upon everything he had left to get to his feet without putting too much of his weight on the two women. Once they had him standing they each pulled an arm around their shoulder and started towards the house. He lost track of how many times he miss stepped and nearly pulled them all to the ground. He gritted his teeth and fought to stay conscious as the house finally loomed directly in front of his blurry vision.

"Almost there, Mr. Larabee," Nettie said as they stopped in front of the step. She saw that Casey had left the door open and she smiled at her niece as they struggled to get the injured man into the house. She headed for her bedroom but the gunslinger stopped next to the well-worn couch.

"H...here," the blond mumbled.

"No, Mr. Larabee, we need to get you in the bedroom and look after things until Casey can ride for Mr. Jackson tomorrow morning."

For once Chris Larabee didn't argue, not because he didn't want to, but because it would do him no good. This was a woman who stood up to Guy Royal and she was showing the same feistiness she'd shown at that time. His shoulders slumped as they pulled him towards the bedroom. They turned sideways to get through the door. The two women eased the injured man to the bed and Nettie told Casey to get him a glass of water. Nettie sat beside the barely conscious peacekeeper and talked softly to him.

"Mr. Larabee, we're gonna have to get that shirt off you and take a look at the wound!" she ordered as Casey returned and handed her the glass. She held it to the fevered lips and watched as he slowly sipped at the water.

To Chris it tasted like the sweetest wine. It flowed down his parched throat, reawakening his senses and lending a little more strength to his voice as he looked into her aged eyes, "Thanks, Mrs. W...Wells."

"You're welcome, Mr. Larabee, now let's get those dirty clothes off you, shall we?"

Chris sighed and lifted his right hand to the buttons on his shirt. He fumbled tiredly until, his energy spent, his arm dropped down by his side. "S...sorry," he whispered as his eyes closed and he slid back to the bed.

"It's about time," the older woman smiled as she stood up. "Casey, fer now I need ya ta put aside your shyness and help me get his shirt off 'im!" she ordered. She stood over the injured man and unbuttoned the few remaining buttons on his shirt. She saw the dirty bandage covering the wound and bit her lip. The bandage didn't cover the reddened area and she felt Casey's eyes on her. "Pull his right arm outta his sleeve," she told the younger woman, hoping to keep her mind on the task before them.

"I put some water on to heat," Casey told her aunt as the older woman partially lifted the blond and they pulled the dirty tattered shirt from his lean body.

"That's good, Casey. Can you fill the basin with water and bring me some clean towels?"

"Yes, Ma'am," she said and hurried from the room once more.

Nettie tried to remove the dirt-encrusted bandage, but the dried blood held it fast to the wound. She wondered, not for the first time how people could hurt each other so savagely. She looked up, fighting the moisture from her eyes as her niece placed the water on the table beside the bed.

"Casey, when the water is boiled steep some of that willow bark tea for me and warm up the leftover soup from lunch." Again her niece left to do her bidding and she turned back to removing the bandage. "I'm sorry, Mr. Larabee, this is gonna hurt a bit," she soaked the bandage until she could pry it from the cruel wound. Larabee groaned and moved slightly but his eyes remained closed.

Nettie knew the bullet was still inside Larabee's chest and she also knew it needed to come out as soon as possible. The edges around the wound were ragged and ugly and a mixture of blood and pus oozed from inside. She hated the smell of infection, having seen too much of it during the war. She took one of the clean cloths and slowly bathed the area, washing away the dried blood and dirt. She didn't know how long she worked cleaning the area and the numerous scratches and bruises covering his upper torso, neck and face, but she knew she'd gone through four basins of water and several cloths. Casey returned to the room just as she placed a fresh bandage over the bullet wound.

"How is he, Aunt Nettie?" she asked as she passed the older woman a cup of tea.

"He's not doing very well, Casey. He needs Nathan Jackson. First light I want ya to ride into Four Corners to get him and the others. They need to find out who did this to Mr. Larabee."

"But Mr. Jackson's not there. Him and the others rode out this morning."

"Do you know where they went?"

"N...no. Mrs. Potter didn't know."

"Well, there's not much we can do tonight except try and make him comfortable. I still want ya to go to town tomorrow. Maybe the others will have returned by then." She looked down at the pale blond as he moved on the bed.

"Vin...Buck... Shot...get him o...out of h...here... No...c...choice...I...I'm c...counting on you... B...bastards..." his blond head tossed as he went from one fevered nightmare to another. "S...Sarah, Adam... Oh God...n...no...c...can't... Buck let me GO!"

Nettie didn't know much about the gunslinger's past, but she knew he'd lost his wife and son in a tragic fire. She changed the cloth on his forehead and continued to speak soothingly to him. "Mr. Larabee, you're okay. You need ta lie still or you're gonna start bleeding again. I got something here I want ya ta drink." She slid her hand under his head and lifted him carefully.

Casey hurriedly passed her aunt the cup of willow bark tea and watched as her elderly aunt gently fed it to the injured man. She watched as the woman talked to him, holding him and making sure the fluid got into him. She watched as fever glazed eyes opened and looked at her before dropping and holding the gaze of Nettie Wells.

"T...thanks," he gasped coming fully awake to the fever and pain spreading throughout his body. He felt her ease him back on the bed and again a weak thanks crossed his lips. He felt himself drifting along on lazy clouds in an azure blue sky, but fought to stay awake. There was something important he needed to tell them. A frown marred his handsome face as he struggled with his memories. His eyes opened wide and he tried to sit up as two faces swam before his eyes.

"Lie still, Mr. Larabee!" Nettie ordered as she forced the weak man back to the pillows.

"P...please. G...get Nathan..."

Nettie Wells mistook the blond's plea as a cry for help for himself. "Casey'll find him and bring him here tomorrow. Now you got a bullet in your chest and you need to be still."

"N...no, please...d...don't under...stand. N...not me. Buck and V...Vin h...hurt. Cave in!" the last was forced from a ravaged body as the man simply gave into the waiting darkness.

Nettie Wells shook her head and returned to bathing the fevered brow.

"Aunt Nettie," the older woman looked up and met her nieces eyes. "Let me do that for a while. I made you something to eat."

Nettie knew she'd need to conserve her own dwindling strength for the long night ahead. She now understood what Chris Larabee was trying to tell them. Buck Wilmington and Vin Tanner were hurt and trapped in a cave somewhere. Right now, the injured man was the only one who knew where. She nodded her head and stood up.

"Just keep trying to cool him down."

"Yes, Ma'am," Casey quickly slid into the seat her aunt just vacated.

Standish sat beside the fire and looked at his soiled clothing. Once they'd taken care of the injured men and eaten supper they'd taken care of burying the two unknown men. Josiah had spoken a few words over the unmarked graves and they'd quickly come back to the creek. He was sitting beside Vin Tanner and looked up at the sound of approaching horses. He stood up and watched as JD returned with Yosemite and the wagon. He watched as the kid dismounted before his horse came to a complete stop. He smiled as the young easterner hurried past him and knelt beside Nathan Jackson.

"How are they, Nathan?" Dunne asked.

Jackson turned tired eyes on the newcomer as he answered, "Buck's doing better. There was a good bit of infection in the wound and he's totin' a fever. Vin's gonna have to stay off that leg for a couple of weeks. Had to dig around some to find the bullet, but it came out fairly clean. He's got a fever too, it's just not as high as Bucks. If they do as I say they should both be okay."

"Yosemite's here with the wagon. He's got it packed with blankets and a couple of mattresses."

"Good," Jackson stood up and looked at the other men. In spite of the darkness he knew it would be best to get the wounded men into town as soon as possible. He spotted Yosemite and Standish talking beside the wagon. "Josiah, Ezra, we're gonna need to get them into the wagon and back to town. Yosemite, think you can keep that wagon on the trail?"

"Sure can, Nathan. The moon'll light the way almost as good as the sun does."

"Alright, let's get them loaded up. We'll start with Buck. We need to keep him as still as possible. Josiah, you take his shoulders. Ezra, JD, you two get his legs. Yosemite, you get in the wagon and help them get him in there. Now go easy with him. He can't afford to lose any more blood."

The three men moved to carry out Jackson's orders. They carefully lifted the ladies' man and carried him towards the wagon. As gently as possible Wilmington was placed on the blankets, but the movement still elicited a small cry of pain from the injured man. Once he was settled in the wagon he slipped back to sleep and they moved to the second injured man.

Jackson knelt beside Tanner and checked the wound in his leg. "We're gonna have to keep his leg from moving too much. We'll do it the same's we did Buck, but I'll hold his leg. You guys ready?"

At the quick nod of heads they lifted Vin Tanner and carried him to the wagon. It took a little longer to get him inside as they maneuvred around the scoundrel. They finally had him settled and Nathan checked both men to make sure they weren't bleeding. He looked up from his patients to see the others had already put out the fire and got everything ready to move out.

"I'm gonna ride back here with them. Yosemite take it easy going back. I don't want them bounced around too much." A soft moan brought his attention to the moonlit face of Vin Tanner. Blue eyes stared up at him from under half closed lids. "Easy, Vin, we got ya. Ezra, hand me one of the canteens." He felt the item pressed into his hands and lifted the trackers head. He let him drink small sips until his thirst was satisfied.

"F...find Chris?" Tanner asked worriedly.

"No, Vin, we didn't." He remembered Standish and Sanchez returning from a search of the area to report there was no sign of the missing man. "We're gonna get you and Buck back to town and then we'll look for Chris."

"Gotta go n...now, N...Nate...he's h...hurt..."

"In case you haven't noticed, Mr. Tanner, so are you," Standish informed the tracker.

"I'm..."

"Going to be quiet and lie there until we get back to town. Then you and Buck are gonna spend the next two weeks in my clinic. Do as I say and I might be willing to let ya go in a week."

"D...do as he s...says, V...Vin..."

The healer turned to the second injured man and asked. "How do you feel, Buck?"

"B...better'n I did. T...thirsty..."

Nathan helped him drink from the canteen and soon settled the two men back onto the blankets. "All right, Yosemite, lets get moving," he ordered as he watched the two injured men. 'We'll find him,' he thought as the wagon lurched forward.

The sun was just coming over the horizon, casting her warm rays over the countryside as the wagon rolled into Four Corners. Shadows still shrouded the street as the small entourage pulled to a stop in front of Jackson's clinic. The two injured men were quickly carried up the stairs and placed on the cots. The healer quickly cleaned and re-bandaged both wounds and sat back in his chair. He was worried about the fevers, but was glad to see the infection hadn't returned.

"Nathan, we're gonna grab something to eat before we head out in search of Chris."

"Alright, Josiah. I gotta stay with these two or they'll be up and outta here as soon's they wake up."

"Mr. Jackson, I shall return with whatever breakfast Inez has to offer," Standish said as he followed Sanchez out the door.

"Ez, can you bring me something as well. I'm gonna stay and help Nathan with B...Buck and Vin."

"All right, Mr. Dunne," Standish closed the door as he left.

"What do you want me to do, Nate?" the Bostonian asked.

"As soon as you've eaten I want you to get some rest. Until then get a basin of water and start coolin' Buck down."

"O...okay," the kid said as he picked up the bucket and hurried out of the clinic.

Nettie Wells dipped the cloth into the fresh basin of water and again used it to wash the injured gunslinger. She'd been sitting with him since Casey left for town just after dawn. She was exhausted, but the need to help a fellow human being, especially one she cared for made her strong. She continued to wet him down with water and rubbing alcohol, but it wasn't helping. She knew the fever would continue unabated until the bullet was out of his body and the infection drained from the wound.

"Lie still, Mr. Larabee," Nettie ordered as she ran the back of her hand across her sweat soaked forehead.

"T...thirsty," the blond mumbled as he struggled to open his eyes.

"I got some water here," She said and helped him drink from the cup. She pulled it away as he gulped down as much as he could get.

"M...more," he pleaded.

"You can have as much as you want, but you have to go slow. Can't have you getting sick like ya did the last time," she warned. "Casey has gone to Four Corners to get Mr. Jackson and the others."

Chris's eyes widened at the mention of the healer. "Tell t...hem...h...have to find Buck and Vin." He tried to sit up in the bed and gasped as pain lanced through his body.

"Mr. Larabee," Nettie easily forced the blond back to the bed. "You've got to be still. Casey will let them know about Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Tanner."

"T...they're hurt..."

"And so are you. Now I've got some tea here I'd like you to drink. Think you can manage that for me?"

"T...think so," the blond smiled at the older woman as she lifted his head forward again. He sipped at the bitter tasting brew until exhaustion once more forced his eyes closed and he slept. Nettie gently eased his head back to the bed and placed the cup on the table, praying the fluid would stay inside him this time. She sat in the chair, drifting towards sleep, but not quite letting go of consciousness as she listened to the labored breathing from the bed.

Casey rode into town and pulled to a stop as she noted the wagon outside the clinic. She headed towards it, pulled to a stop and quickly dismounted. She recognized JD's and Nathan's horse as she slipped her horse's reins over the hitching post. She raced up the stairs calling Jackson's name as she did.

"What the hell," Jackson swore as he heard the pounding footsteps outside the clinic.

JD looked up from Wilmington and stood up. "That sounds like Casey," he said as the door swung open and the young woman hurried inside.

"N...Nathan..." she stopped as she saw the two men on the cots. "You found them?"

"What are you talking about, Casey? Found who?" Dunne asked.

"Found Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Tanner. Mr. Larabee said they..."

"Mr. Larabee! Chris!" Jackson was immediately on his feet and standing before the young woman. "Did you see Chris?"

"Mr. Larabee's at Aunt Nettie's farm..."

"Is he alright?" Dunne asked.

"N...No! He's shot, JD. Shot bad."

"Where?" Jackson asked worriedly.

"At the farm," Casey answered impatiently, giving Jackson a strange look.

"No, Casey, where's he been shot?" the healer explained.

"Oh! Sorry, he's been shot in the chest! Right here," she answered, pointing to a spot on the left side of the chest. "Aunt Nettie says the bullet is still in there and it has to come out right away. He's got a fever too."

"JD, go over to the saloon and see if Josiah and Ezra are still there!" the kid bolted out the door before the words were completely out of the former slave's mouth. "Casey, go ask Mrs. Travis if she can stay with Buck and Vin!"

"Right away," the girl said as she hurried off.

"N...Nathan."

Jackson turned in time to see Vin Tanner trying to sit up in the bed. "Where the hell do ya think your goin, Vin?"

"Out to M...Miss Nettie's place. Gotta c...check on C...Chris," the tracker explained.

"Like hell! Now you just get your ass back on that bed 'fore I tie ya down," Jackson snapped and then eased down beside the sharpshooter. "Look, Vin, I don't know what I'll have to do out there, but if I gotta be worried about you and Buck I'm not gonna be able to give my full attention to Chris. Now I need your word that you'll stay put and stay off that leg. I'm also counting on ya to look after Buck while I'm gone."

Tanner raised tired, glazed eyes and met equally tired brown ones. "Buck, okay?" he asked finally.

"He will be and so will you. Now do I have your word that you'll stay here until I get back."

It was a testament to how bad the tracker was feeling as he eased back down on the cot. "I'll stay put. D...don't seem ta 'ave much c...choice."

JD hurried into the saloon almost toppling Ezra Standish over in his haste. Standish jumped out of the way as the youth rushed through the swinging door.

"Where's the fire, my young friend?" the conman asked.

"Casey just rode in. Chris is at Nettie's place."

"Is he alright?" Sanchez asked.

"No. Casey said he's been shot in the chest. Nathan told me to come get you before you rode out."

"We were just about to do so, Mr. Dunne," Standish said as the three men hurried towards the clinic. They spotted Mary Travis and Casey Wells running up the stairs.

"You wanted me, Nathan?" Mary asked as she hurried into the clinic.

"Mary, could you stay with these two while I go out to Mrs. Wells' place ta check on Chris?"

"Of course, Nathan. Casey says Chris was shot as well." Mary knew about Buck and Vin as she'd checked on the two men when Standish and Sanchez went into the saloon to eat.

"Yeah and it sounds bad." The healer said as the three men joined them in the clinic. "JD, I want you to stay here and help Mary with these two. Josiah, Ezra, you two come with me. I don't know how bad it is, but from what Casey says it's not good."

"I'll have your horse saddled, Mr. Jackson."

"Thanks, Ezra, I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Nathan quickly told JD and Mary Travis what needed to be done for the two men. He left them a small bottle of laudanum in case they needed something for pain. He also left bandages and herbs for the tea to help ease the fever they suffered from. He shook his head as he looked at the two injured men, both awake and staring at him.

"If either one of 'im gives you any trouble tie them to the bed!" he ordered, the smile on his face not quite taking away the serious look in his eyes. "Buck, Vin, stay put!" he warned a final time as he grabbed his supplies and hurried out the door.

Josiah smiled at the injured peacekeepers. "My advice to both of you is do as he says," he warned in his baritone voice.

"They'll stay where they are. JD and I will see to that!" Mary assured the older man.

"Thank you, Mary, we'll send word as soon as we know what's going on." The ex-preacher knew Chris Larabee and Mary Travis were developing feelings for one another and he hoped they'd be given the chance to see those feelings grow into a lasting relationship. He nodded to the four people and followed the healer out of the clinic.

Chris watched as the silver haired lady nodded off in the chair. He hated what his presence was doing to her. Even in sleep she looked exhausted and he knew she'd been tending to his needs all night. He wanted water, but didn't have the strength to reach for the glass. He shifted slightly on the bed and set off the fireworks in his head. He knew the fever and blood loss were only partly to blame for the pounding headache. He'd been awake long enough for his thoughts to make sense. He knew Buck and Vin needed help and he was probably already too late to get it for them. His only hope was that the cave had another source of air, otherwise they'd be digging out a couple of bodies.

Chris closed his eyes and thought about Buck Wilmington and Vin Tanner. The young tracker had made an impression on him from the day they'd met. Without a word they'd walked into the street and followed a wagonload of men towards the cemetery. A man's life hung in the balance and a gunslinger and a bounty hunter banded together to save a stranger. The friendship continued to grow and now encompassed five other men as well.

His mind turned to an older friendship, one that had helped him through some of the darkest times of his life. Buck Wilmington had always been a womanizer and Chris wouldn't change anything about him. He'd been there when Sarah and Adam died and stayed in spite of Larabee doing his damndest to push him away. They'd separated when there came a point when Buck just couldn't handle Larabee's descent into hell. The rogue rode away hiding the pain of losing this friendship caused him. Chris knew his words at the cave were spoken in pain and worry and he knew in his heart the ladies' man was not to blame for his being shot.

Thompson was a jealous man and his wife was a little loose. It was a combination of those things that brought them all to this point. He wished he could let Wilmington know, but the man had probably gone to his grave loaded with guilt.

He felt a tear slide from his eyes and blinked it away. "I'm sorry, Buck, n...not your f...fault," he rasped.

Nettie Wells heard the pain in the voice and opened her eyes. She sat up further in the chair and looked into a pair of moisture-laden eyes. She reached for the cloth on his forehead, dipped it into the water and squeezed out the excess. She washed his face and looked into the sad green eyes.

"Are you alright, Mr. Larabee?" she asked.

"T...think so..." the sound of the door being slammed open interrupted his answer.

"Aunt Nettie, I'm back and I brought Mr. Jackson with me," Casey said as she hurried into the bedroom.

"Thank God," Nettie said as the dark skinned healer entered the room and hurried to the bed.

"Ma'am," Jackson greeted as the woman moved so he could get to his patient. "How are you doing, Chris?" he asked, noting the half open pain filled eyes.

"I'm okay, Nathan, but y...you..."

Jackson placed his hand on Larabee's forehead and spoke quickly. "Buck and Vin are back at the clinic."

Larabee's eyes opened to full circles and he reached for the healer's arms. "What? How? T...they o...kay?"

"They're hurtin' but they'll make it. Now you just lie still and let me see what kind've damage this bullet's done to ya." Nathan heard Sanchez and Standish bring in the remainder of his supplies and felt them watching him. "Mrs. Wells," Jackson looked at the exhausted woman. "We'll take care of him now. You need to get some rest."

"Come on, Aunt Nettie, you can sleep in my room."

Nettie Wells nodded and glanced at the man lying in her bed. "Mr. Larabee, you do as Mr. Jackson says!"

"I w...will. T...thank you, Mrs. Wells," Larabee smiled as the woman turned and walked with her niece out the door. He watched her speak with Josiah Sanchez before she left and knew she was probably telling him to help himself to anything they needed.

"Now, Chris, I'm gonna take a look at that wound and see about getting the bullet out. Before you ask there's no whiskey! Josiah, hand me the laudanum!" Jackson felt the bottle pressed into his hand and took off the cap. He lifted Larabee's head and held the bottle in front of his lips.

Chris swallowed the noxious tasting medicine and gritted his teeth as the movement jarred the hole in his chest. He was grateful when his head was gently placed back on the soft pillow.

"Try and be still, Chris," Jackson ordered as he replaced the cap and put the bottle on the dresser beside the bed. He lifted the bandage off the wound and frowned at the swollen, puffy, reddened hole just to the right of his patient's left arm. The area around the wound was clean and he knew Nettie and Casey Wells were to thank for that.

"Hello, Mr. Larabee," Standish said as he moved to the opposite side of the bed.

"Ez...J'siah," the blond greeted his two friends.

"Chris, I'm gonna need ta get this bullet out and drain the infection. Josiah and Ezra are gonna help keep ya still while I do this."

"O...kay," the blond mumbled as the laudanum lowered the pain level in his body. He watched the healer place his instruments on the dresser and tried not to flinch as a probe appeared in his friend's hand. He felt Standish grab his legs as Sanchez placed a restraining hand on each of his shoulders.

"Alright, Chris, you just hang on and Nathan'll have that bullet out in no time."

"Y...yeah, su...sure he w...will," Larabee stammered.

"Bite down on this, Mr. Larabee," Standish said as he handed the ex-preacher a knotted kerchief. Josiah held it before the slack lips and waited for the gunslinger to accept it.

"T...thanks," Larabee said and took the cloth between his teeth.

"You two make sure he don't move around. I'm sorry, Chris, I hate hurtin' ya more'n ya already are, but I gotta do this," he saw the slight nod from the injured man and hardened himself to the cries he knew would accompany his probing for the bullet. He had to move slowly and carefully because of the area the wound was in.

Chris felt the cold metal as it touched the ragged wound. He bit down on the cloth as the healer sank the instrument into the damage done by the bullet. He tried not to move and was very grateful to the two sets of hands holding him. Without that strength he would've been off the bed and out the door in spite of his weakened body. His eyes were tightly closed and he couldn't see the look of pain on the former stretcher-bearer's face.

"Almost there, Chris," Jackson said reassuringly. He couldn't see the blond's face, but he knew by the weak sounds coming from his friend's throat he was in agony.

The gunslinger heard the softly spoken words, but was too wrapped up in the shard of metal slicing into his body. As Jackson struck the small missile embedded in his body he cried out, the cloth slipping from his teeth as he lost the fight to stay conscious. His last thought was of his two friends and the fact that he could rest now that they were safe.

"Shit, Chris, don't you give up now," Jackson snapped as he felt the tremble run through the lean form and the body suddenly went slack. He couldn't stop what he was doing to check if the man was still breathing and was grateful for Sanchez' words.

"He's still with us, Brother!"

"Thanks, Josiah, just gotta get this out," he said as he finally slipped the smashed bullet from Larabee's sweat soaked, feverish body. "Got it," he cried triumphantly. He watched as bloody pus oozed from the wound and knew he needed to make sure it was all out before he could close it up. He reached for the basin of water and carbolic and gently bathed the area, pressing down until the infection was cleared. He looked up and met both the gambler's and the ex-preacher's eyes. The worry he felt was evident on both faces as they continued to hold the blond in spite of his unconscious state.

"How is he, Mr. Jackson," Nettie Wells asked from the door.

"I got the bullet out, but I just don't know if he's got the strength to pull through this, Mrs. Wells," Jackson answered.

"Have faith, Mr. Jackson, he made it this far," Nettie assured him. "I have some aloe here for that sunburn. I was putting it on his face and neck during the night."

"Thank you, Ma'am, that's the best thing ya could've done for him. You and Casey saved his life." Jackson said as he stitched the wound closed.

"We only did what anyone would've done..."

"Not everyone, Ma'am. You gave up your bed and spent the night looking after him," Sanchez observed. He saw the blush on the woman's face and knew his words gave her a good feeling.

Jackson took the aloe and smoothed the lotion over Larabee's face and neck. Finally satisfied he'd done all he could he sat back in the chair and let the fatigue and worry of the past two days wash over him.

"Mr. Jackson, you are exhausted and in need of sleep. I will stay with Mr. Larabee while you attend your own body's needs."

"Ezra's right, Nathan. You need to get some rest. You've been pushing yourself to the limits since we found Buck and Vin and then we came straight out here. Ezra can take the first watch I'll take the second."

"I need to get back to town to check on Buck and Vin..."

"You need to sleep, Mr. Jackson," Nettie told him.

The healer smiled at the people in the room, each wearing the same stern look. He shook his head as he stood up and stretched his aching body. "Guess I can't fight all of ya!" he said.

"That's right, Mr. Jackson," the woman said. "Now, Casey's put some blankets out for you to sleep on."

"Thank you, Mrs. Wells," Standish smiled as he watched her lead the healer from the room.

"Ezra, I'm gonna see about making something to eat. You call me if you need me," Sanchez said as he left the conman to care for the gunslinger.

Mary returned to the clinic to find the two injured men arguing with JD Dunne. She placed the laden tray on the table and stood with her hands on her hips. She stared from one man to the other as she tried to look stern. She turned to the youngest member of the peacekeepers and smiled.

"JD, go get something to eat. Once you're done ask Yosemite to bring up some ropes..."

"You wouldn't dare!" Wilmington snapped in an unsteady voice.

"Nathan asked me to make sure you two stayed put. If tying you down is the only way I can do that then I will do just that. In case you haven't noticed you're both hurt and have a fever. Now are you going to do as you're told or do I get Yosemite and JD to tie you to the bed?"

"Buck, I think she's serious."

"I am serious. Now would you like to sit up and eat or do we tie you down and feed you?"

"Shoot, she's worse than Nathan," Wilmington mumbled as JD helped him sit forward and placed extra pillows behind his back. "T...thanks, Kid," he groaned as the wave of dizziness finally left him. He looked towards the second bed as Mary Travis helped Vin sit up and placed pillows behind him as well.

"I can sit on the side of the bed, Mary," the tracker explained.

"I don't think so, Vin. Nathan doesn't want you moving around and opening up that wound. Now just sit there and I'll get your supper for you."

"Buck, I think she's enjoying this," Tanner said.

"I'd advise you both to be quiet and eat. I'm keeping track of everything and will let Nathan know what you've been doing when he comes back from Nettie's place," the newspaperwoman assured them. She knew they were trying to keep from thinking about what Nathan and the others were doing at the Wells farm. Her own heart pounded each time she thought about Chris Larabee. She wished they had some way of knowing just how bad things were.

Tanner studied the worried face as the woman placed the tray on his lap. "He'll be okay, Mary," he drawled softly.

Mary nodded, bit her bottom lip and swiped at the moisture forming in her eyes. "I just wish they'd send word."

"We all do," Buck agreed as JD placed a tray before him. Silence reined over the clinic as the four people thought about the leader of the peacekeepers. There was no need for words, they knew Chris Larabee was first and foremost on their minds.

Chris awoke to the familiar burning pain in his chest. He lifted his right hand and touched the bandage covering the wound. He swatted at the hand that reached out and grabbed his own.

"You really don't want to do that, Mr. Larabee. I would hate to see Mr. Jackson have to replace those stitches again," Standish said as he placed Larabee's hand back on the bed. He watched as the injured man's face seemed to run through a gamut of emotions and finally the green eyes opened and stared up at him. "How do you feel, Mr. Larabee?"

"N...not sure! What h...happened?" he asked as he looked around the unfamiliar room.

"You tried to stop a piece of metal with your chest and lost."

"Guess I should s...stop doing t...that! I c...can't seem..." he stopped as he felt the strain on his dry throat. He coughed and groaned as he lifted his hand to his chest once more. He had no idea how long the coughing continued, but by the time it ended he was covered in perspiration and the pain in his chest was nearly overwhelming. He forced his eyes open and wasn't surprised to see the conman gone and the healer in his place.

"Take it easy, Chris," he said, noting the pain in the watery green eyes. "I'm going to give you a little laudanum," Jackson lifted a spoon and filled it from the bottle beside him.

"B...Buck? Vin? I d...did hear you s...say you f...found them?"

"We got them. Here drink this." The healer lifted his head and placed the spoonful of medicine in Larabee's mouth. "They'll both be fine and so will you as long's ya give yourself time to heal. We'll head back to Four Corners first thing in the morning. I'd rather not have to move you, but I really need to get all three of you together. Otherwise you'd be trying to get there on your own."

Larabee smiled at the concern on the other man's face. He knew Jackson was worried about all of them and wanted to ease the man's worries. He looked into the soft brown eyes and asked, "gonna let me ride..."

"Don't you finish that question!" Jackson snapped, but couldn't help smiling at the injured man. He'd grown used to the teasing his friends used when they were hurt. "You'll be riding in Mrs. Wells' wagon, argue and you'll be tied..."

"Hell, Nathan, I was..."

"Don't matter what you were doing. Now be quiet and try to rest."

"Can I have some water?"

Jackson reached for the glass on the dresser and helped the blond sit up enough to take a drink. He saw the flash of pain in the green eyes as he sat forward and sympathized with him. He was disappointed when Larabee pulled away after only two small sips.

"Chris, ya need to drink more'n that."

"N...not now, Nathan," Larabee fought his rebellious stomach, but was soon on his side, heaving into the basin held by the healer. His chest heaved painfully as the last of the water and laudanum came back up. A spurt of painful coughing followed and he felt strong arms wrap around his trembling shoulders. He opened his eyes and looked gratefully at Josiah Sanchez. "T...thanks, J'siah," he mumbled as his weakened body slumped back against the well-muscled chest.

"Anytime, Chris," Sanchez said.

"Lie him back, Josiah. I need to make sure nothing broke open," Jackson ordered. He helped ease Larabee back to the bed and lifted the bandage from the taut chest. There was fresh blood on the bandage, but the stitches seemed to have held up. He gently probed the slightly swollen area and was pleased when very little bloody pus showed up. He still worried about the fever, but they were doing all they could to cool him down. He looked up to see Nettie Wells enter the room with fresh towels and a clean basin of water.

"How is he, Mr. Jackson?"

"He's doing okay, Mrs. Wells. He's runnin' a mean fever, but considerin' what he's been through that's to be expected. We're doin' everythin' we can for him and as long's he can keep fightin' he'll make it."

Nettie placed the basin and towels on the dresser and watched as Jackson finished cleaning the wound with a mixture of water and carbolic acid. Once he replaced the bandage she placed a hand on his shoulder and looked from him to Sanchez to Standish. "I've made supper for you boys. Casey is settin' the table for ya. I'll stay with Mr. Larabee while you all eat."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Jackson said. He stood up and watched as she took his place. "Just keep wipin' him down. That's about all we can do. If he wakes up give him some water, but small amounts. His stomach's a bit upset right now so we need to take it slow."

Nettie nodded her head and watched as they left the room. She worried about the man on the bed as well as the injured men in Four Corners. They helped her keep her home and land when Guy Royal tried to take her property from her. She picked up a wet cloth and wrung the excess water from it. She washed his pale, burnt flesh and re-applied the aloe lotion. She smiled as his eyes opened and he looked at her gratefully.

"T...thank you," he whispered.

"There's no need for thanks, Mr. Larabee. Lord knows you and your friends have done enough for me and Casey. We owe you all a debt that can never be repaid."

"D...don't owe us n...nothing, Ma'am," he told her.

"Then you don't owe me nothing either, except a promise ta get well," she warned. "Would you like some water?" At the slight nod she lifted his head enough for him to swallow from the glass.

Chris took two small sips and turned away. He let his eyes close once more as the cloth washed him. He sank towards sleep as Nettie Wells' aged hands washed the sweat and pain from his body.

JD Dunne was exhausted. He spent the night watching over the two peacekeepers. The first part of the night was easy. Mary Travis was able to keep the two men in bed with just a look or a simple threat. Once she left to get some sleep the real trouble started. It didn't happen right away because the two weakened men were sleeping with the help of a liberal dose of Laudanum. Now, as the first streaks of dawn sprayed across the sky both men were awake and arguing with him.

"Look, Kid, we just want..."

"Buck, I know what you want and the answer is NO!"

"How do you plan on stopping me, JD?" Wilmington asked as Tanner sat on the edge of the bed.

"Buck, ya may be bigger'n me, but right now I could knock the tar outta ya and still 'ave enough left ta tie ya down. Vin, get back in the damn bed!" he snapped tiredly.

"I need ta go ta the privy, Kid!"

"I don't care where ya gotta go. You just stay put and I'll bring ya the chamber pot. Shit, Nathan'll kill me if he comes back and needs ta stitch that leg again."

"I ain't usin' no chamber pot, JD!"

"Vin!" Dunne hurried from Wilmington's bed to Tanner's bed just as the stubborn man stood up. "Sit down!"

"Yer gettin' real bossy, Kid!" the Texan drawled.

"Are you gonna do as I say?"

"Not likely," Wilmington's voice drifted across the room and he turned to see the ladies' man sitting up.

"Goddammit, you two 'ave got ta be the worst nightmare I've ever 'ad!" Dunne snapped. He looked towards the door as it opened and smiled at the woman standing there.

"I could hear you across the street, Senors," Inez said, her hands on her hips. "JD, are these two giving you problems?"

Dunne smiled at the Mexican woman as both Buck and Vin sat back on the beds and grabbed for their blankets. He heard them both cursing as the quick movement caused their stitches to pull. "Let that be a lesson to both of you," the kid smiled as both men blushed deep red.

"Shut up, Kid," Wilmington warned.

"Would you like me to stay, JD?"

"I think we'll be fine now, Inez. I don't think they'll give me any more trouble."

"If they do just holler and I'll come back. I think Mrs. Potter and Mary could be persuaded to come ride herd on them as well." She turned with a flurry of skirts before they could see the smile on her face. She'd been up early and could hear the argument from her room. She knew JD had his hands full and was glad she'd been able to help out. At the door she stopped and turned back to the three peacekeepers. "Would any of you like breakfast?"

"I could use something, thank you, Inez."

"You're welcome, JD. Nathan left orders for those two to have mush. I'll be back in a little while," she left to the mumbled groans of the sharpshooter and the scoundrel.

"JD."

Dunne looked back to see the tracker sitting on the side of the bed once more. "Vin, I'll call Inez back here if you try to get up!"

"Not goin' anywhere, Kid. Just gimme the damned chamber pot!"

"Oh, sorry, just hang on!"

Nathan stood on the porch of the Wells home and watched as the sun peeked her rosy face above the horizon. Chris Larabee was sleeping peacefully, but the night had been a long hard fight. The nightmares he suffered from as a result of the fever caused him to thrash wildly on the bed. As dawn broke through the darkest part of the night the blond had little strength to fight them and now lay quietly on the bed.

Ezra Standish was with the gunslinger now. Josiah, Nettie, and Casey were sleeping, yet he knew all three of them would be instantly awake if they were needed. Nathan rubbed the back of his neck and eased his lean form onto the step. He knew he had one hell of a job on his hands for the next week or two. With three injured men he'd need all the help he could get just to keep them down long enough to start the healing process. He wondered how JD and Mary were handling Buck and Vin. He hoped the two men were not causing too many problems, but he knew there was a very slim chance of that. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see the ex-preacher standing in the doorway with two cups of steaming coffee. He reached out and accepted the offering gratefully sipping at the strong brew.

"Been a busy night," Josiah said as he slid down beside the healer.

"Always is when one of you guys is hurt," Jackson smiled as he said the words, letting the ex-preacher know he wasn't laying blame.

"You've got a hard job, Nathan Jackson. Putting us back together is never an easy thing to do. I can tell you that if there's a special place in heaven for doctors you've earned a place in it," he held up his hand to stop Jackson's protest. "I know there's no doctor's certificate from a medical school on your walls, Brother, but there's never been a man more deserving of the title." He watched the display of emotions on the former slave's face and knew his words had hit home.

"Thanks, Josiah."

"You're welcome, my friend. Are we still going back to town this morning?"

"If Chris's fever doesn't get any higher I'd rather take him into town and keep the three of 'em under one roof. Makes it easier if I need to resort to tying 'em down," Jackson said, only half joking.

"I don't envy you the task of keeping tabs on the three of them once they start moving around."

"You won't have to, Josiah. You, Ezra, and JD have just been recruited to help me keep them down. We'll take it in shifts 'cause I ain't gonna be the only one to suffer the headache these three are bound to cause."

"It looks like a hard time ahead for all of us," Sanchez said as he finished the coffee.

"I'm gonna go check on Chris and maybe get some breakfast started."

"Mrs. Wells is already makin' flapjacks and bacon. She's also makin' a thin mush for Chris."

"Now there's a woman who deserves a place in heaven," Jackson said seriously as he headed inside. He walked into the bedroom and saw the conman replace the cool cloth on the blond head. "How's he been, Ezra?"

"He woke up a few minutes ago and managed to drink a small amount of water. I offered him the laudanum as you said, but he refused it saying it would just make him sick to his stomach again."

"I don't think it's the laudanum making him sick right now. It's probably a combination of heat stroke and the fever." Jackson sat beside the bed and placed a hand on Larabee's left shoulder. "Chris?"

He slowly opened his eyes and looked at the man seated beside him. "W...what's wrong, N...Nathan?"

"Nothing's wrong, Chris. I just wanted to let you know we'd be leaving for home as soon's we've eaten. It's gonna be a rough trip for you."

"I'll be f...fine..."

"I know you will, but you're gonna need a little help. Now Mrs. Wells is makin' you some Mush," he smiled at the look of distaste on Larabee's face. "Yeah, I know you don't care very much for it, but that and broth are about all you'll be getting for the next week or so."

"Probably just throw it up anyway."

"Chris, I think you're suffering from too much sun from walking around in it before Casey found you. I think I read it being called sunstroke and it can make your stomach sick. You've got a pretty bad sunburn on your face and neck. Lucky there's no blistering and I think we have Mrs. Wells to thank for that. She's been putting aloe on it since they found you."

"Owe her a...a lot," Larabee mumbled.

"We all do," Jackson said honestly. "Now I want to give you a little laudanum to make the trip home easier for you."

"Makes me s...sick."

"Laudanum never made you sick before, Chris. Now let's just try a little now and then after you eat we'll try a little more. Okay?"

"I guess so."

Jackson smiled at the gunslinger as he poured a small amount into a spoon and helped him sit up enough to drink it. "Now you just rest and get as much sleep as ya can," Jackson said with a smile. He watched for any sign that the blond was going to be sick and was relieved when the green eyes closed and his friend seemed to surrender to sleep once more. He sat next to the bed and replaced the cloth on his forehead.

Nettie Wells stuck her head in the door and told Nathan breakfast was on the table. She carried a tray into the room with her and set it on the dresser. "I'll see that Mr. Larabee eats," she told him.

"All right, Ma'am, just go slow with him." Jackson turned his attention back to his patient. "Chris, come on now. It's time to wake up."

Larabee grumbled, but forced his eyes open. "Tol' me ta sleep. Now ya want me awake. Worse'n a woman who c...can't make up h...her damn m...mind."

"Ahem."

Larabee looked up his eyes widening as they fell on the woman standing behind Jackson. He looked from her to Jackson then back again as a small smile formed on Nettie Wells' face. "Shoot, Ma'am, I'm sorry. C...could've told me s...she w...was here, Nathan."

"It's alright, Mr. Larabee, I've heard worse. Although I've also known a few men who can't seem to make up their minds either," she laughed at the chagrined look on his face.

Nathan lifted the injured man forward as Nettie Wells settled extra pillows behind him. He eased the blond down and reached for the cloth on the dresser. He saw the lines of pain etched in the man's forehead. "Just breath through it, Chris." He rinsed the cloth in the water and gently washed the pale face. The heaving chest told him just how much the move cost his friend. He kept talking to the blond until his breathing returned to normal.

Chris forced his eyes open and looked at the healer. "T...thanks, Nathan," he muttered weakly.

"Now, Mr. Jackson go help yourself to breakfast," Nettie ordered as she forced the healer away from the bed. She sat in the seat next to the bed and reached for the bowl and spoon. "Mr. Larabee, I'm sure you'd rather have flapjacks and molasses, but Mr. Jackson says it won't stay in your stomach. Now I've made up a thin mush for you." She leaned close to him and whispered conspiratorially. "Don't tell him I put some sugar in it for you. Hate how this stuff tastes as it is." She placed the bowl before him and watched the smile spread over his sunburned face as he lifted a spoonful of watery mush to his mouth.

Chris managed to eat a third of the bowl before his strength gave out and he sighed heavily. He felt the spoon being taken from his hand and tried to open his eyes. He gave it up as a lost cause and simply muttered a weak thank you as he surrendered to the call of sleep once more.

Nettie placed the bowl and the spoon on the tray and touched the sunburned cheek. She wondered if the heat was from the burn or if his fever was gaining on him again. She hoped it wasn't the latter as she carried the tray from the room. She smiled at the three silent men seated at the table.

"How is he, Ma'am," Sanchez asked.

"He's sleeping."

"Did he eat much?"

"About a third of a bowl. He just couldn't seem to keep his eyes open."

"That's gonna happen for a while," Jackson said as he stood up from the table. "He's lost quite a bit of blood and spent a lot of time stumbling around in the sun. The man's gotta long fight ahead of him."

"Mr. Jackson, I can tell he won't have to fight alone."

"No, Ma'am, he won't," Jackson vowed and saw the same determination on the other two peacekeeper's faces. He nodded and walked back into the bedroom.

An hour later Josiah, Nathan and Ezra carefully carried the semi conscious blond out of the house and settled him onto the mattress they'd placed in Nettie's wagon.

Chris felt every move in spite of the care the men took. He swallowed painfully as they lifted him from the bed. He gritted his teeth in an effort to hide just how much this was costing him, unaware that the three men could hear the weak grunts coming from his throat. He took shallow breaths to try and ease some of the stabbing agony in his chest and was glad when he felt the soft mattress underneath him. The laudanum and water Nathan fed him threatened to come back up, but he fought until he had his stomach under control.

Nathan knelt beside the injured man and tucked the blankets around him. Standish and Sanchez managed to rig up a covering on the wagon to keep the sweltering sun from beating down on the blond.

"Chris, this ain't gonna be easy on ya, but we need to get ya back to town and in my clinic. I wouldn't be moving you at all except I don't trust those other two to stay put. We're liable to run into the two of 'em as it is."

"It's okay, Nathan. W...ant to see 'em for myself a...anyway." He smiled as he remembered the promise from Buck Wilmington. "Gotta make sure B...Buck keeps his promise."

"Promise?"

Larabee smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Made him p...promise no w...women for a week."

"Now that's one promise Mr. Wilmington will have trouble keeping. I think, Mr. Larabee, you have supplied me with a wonderful opportunity to wager a bet or two."

"P...put me down for five dollars," Larabee hissed as Jackson checked his bandage.

"Of course, Mr. Larabee. Now is that for Mr. Wilmington making it the full week or are you betting he'll falter."

"He's gonna make it the full w...week."

"How can you be so confident? Mr. Wilmington has always been the amorous type."

Chris smiled as he closed his eyes. They thought he'd fallen asleep, but were surprised when he finally answered. "I have my ways of keeping Buck in hand, Ezra," he said confidently.

"Alright, Chris, that's enough jawin'. Mrs. Wells, thank you for everything you've done."

"No thanks necessary, Mr. Jackson. I will be driving the wagon. Mr. Larabee, you just let me know if it's too rough for you," the woman said.

Chris nodded and relaxed against the pillow under his head. He felt the laudanum once more take control of the pain in his chest and listened to the others talking softly. By the time the wagon rolled out of the yard he was sleeping soundly.

JD sat in the chair on the landing outside the clinic. He watched the street for any sign of his friends returning with news of Chris Larabee. It was early in the evening and he was exhausted. The two men tried to escape the clinic at every opportunity and JD didn't blame them. He knew they were as worried as he was about the fate of the gunslinger. He reached for the cool glass of lemonade and took a sip. A sound from behind him warned him that he'd been wrong about Buck and Vin sleeping. One or both of them were moving around inside the clinic. Probably looking for their clothes, he thought.

"JD, where the hell did you put my pants?" Wilmington's weak, irate voice sounded from the clinic.

Dunne stood up and walked to the door. He leaned against the frame and smiled at the two men. "I don't know what you're talking about, Buck."

"Where are they, Kid?"

"What, Vin?"

"JD, don't go tryin' to act innocent. It ain't gonna work. What did you do with our clothes?"

"I didn't do anything, Buck," JD answered.

"Someone took our clothes. Who was it?" the ladies' man asked.

"Actually it was three someones and if I were you two I wouldn't be making them angry right now."

"Who?" Tanner asked.

"Mary, Inez and Mrs. Potter. They said to tell you they'll return them as soon's Nathan okays it."

"You'll pay for this, JD," Wilmington warned.

"Wasn't my idea, Buck."

"You could've stopped 'em kid."

JD shook his head at the memory of the three women taking the dirty clothing from the bed. "No way, Vin. Have you ever tried to stare down one of 'em. Hell I had no chance against three of 'em. Now why don't you two just settle down and I'll get you both something to eat."

Buck and Vin glared at the younger man as he moved out on the landing. Without clothes they were stranded, at least until it was dark enough for them to sneak out and get something to wear. Then it would be a simple matter of saddling their horses and riding to Nettie's place.

"Hey," JD called from the landing. "They're coming back. Josiah and Ezra just rode in."

Vin was instantly sitting on the side of the cot, unconsciously rubbing his wounded leg. "What about Nathan and Chris?" he asked as he struggled to rise. His leg wouldn't hold his weight and he sat back again.

JD continued to watch the riders coming into town. Hoping he'd see the healer and the gunslinger join the other two. His shoulders slumped as neither man came into view.

"JD, are Chris and Nathan with them?" Wilmington snapped impatiently.

"N...No." he stammered as the two riders pulled to a stop in front of the clinic. He raced down the stairs to meet them. "Where's Nathan. How's Chris? Are they coming back? Is he alive?" the young man asked the questions before the exhausted riders had a chance to dismount.

"Slow down, JD," Sanchez smiled at the enthusiastic youth. "Nathan's right behind us. Chris is with him. He's alive, but he's not doing very well right now."

"How are our other two injured comrades? Are they the reason you seem to be carrying your luggage under your eyes, Mr. Dunne?" Standish asked as the three walked up the stairs.

"You ain't kiddin', Ez. I don't know how Nathan puts up with 'em." He said as they entered the clinic to find both men standing up. "Buck, Vin, get back in the bed!"

"Josiah, where's Chris?" Tanner asked as he leaned heavily on the table, a small towel wrapped around his hips.

"He'll be here shortly, Vin, now get back in the bed. You too, Buck. He's gonna have enough to do checking you all out as it is. He don't need to be putting anymore stitches in either of you."

"Where's he gonna put Chris if we're in the beds?" the ladies' man asked seriously.

"JD, you and Ezra go down and get another cot from Mrs. Potter. Tell her we'll need blankets, towels and bandages as well. Oh, and ask Inez for a couple of bottles of whiskey," Sanchez ordered and the two men hurried to do his bidding. "Now, as for you two get back in the beds!"

"I'll take the cot JD and Ezra bring. If Chris is hurt as bad as it sounds he'll be more comfortable in the bed."

"All right, Buck," Josiah helped the moustached man stand up, wrapped the blanket around his waist and led him to the table. He eased him onto a chair and turned to Tanner. "Stay put," he snapped as he put water on to boil and made ready for the arrival of the third injured peacekeeper.

"Josiah, how bad is he?" the tracker asked.

Sanchez stopped and turned his tired gaze on the younger man. "He's gonna be laid up for a while. Took a bullet in the chest. Nathan had a hard time getting to it, but he did get it out. He's got a nasty sunburn on his face and shoulders and Nate says he's suffering from heat stroke."

"It's not like Nathan to move Chris if he's that sick," Wilmington said softly.

"He wouldn't, but he wanted to have you all where he could look after you. Now don't either of you go getting that guilty look on your faces. In case you haven't noticed you've both been shot and from the flush on your faces the fever is still present as well. He's riding in Mrs. Wells' wagon and we've covered it so he's shaded." He looked towards the door as footsteps sounded on the stairs. He smiled as Ezra and JD came through the door.

Ezra saw Vin sitting on the bed wrapped in the small towel and smiled. "Mr. Tanner unless you wish Mrs. Potter or Mrs. Travis to see some of your finer points I would advise you to take advantage of the blankets adorning your bed."

"Josiah?"

"Oh, shit," Tanner hissed as Mrs. Potter's voice sounded just outside the door. The crimson flush grew to encompass his cheeks and neck as the woman came through the door carrying the items Sanchez requested.

Gloria looked at the flushed face and dropped her bundle on the table as she hurried towards the injured tracker. "Mr. Tanner, are you still feelin' poorly?"

Vin pulled the blankets as far up as he could as the woman rested her hand on his cheek. "I...I'm fine. Ma'am," he stammered, glaring at the smile on Wilmington's face.

"You're awful flushed, but your fever don't seem to be any higher."

"It's not, Ma'am." Vin assured her. "I's jest tired."

"Well then you just close your eyes and sleep," the caring woman explained as she tucked the blankets around the sharpshooter. "There, now that should make you feel more comfortable."

"That's fine. Thank you, Ma'am," Tanner said and continued to glare at the ladies' man. He looked at the opposite side of the room and saw that the extra cot was ready. Hoping he could deflect the woman's attention and exact a little revenge on the silently laughing ladies' man he said. "I think Buck needs ta get back ta bed, Ma'am. Maybe you could help him out?"

Gloria stood up and walked towards the seated man. She reached for his arm and said, "Let me help you back to bed, Mr. Wilmington."

"I can do it," Wilmington stared at the younger man, his eyes sending a message of revenge. Gloria's hand never left his arm as he stood up. She walked alongside him as she led him to the bed. "N...No!"

"What do you mean, no?" Gloria asked.

"L...leave the bed for Chris. I can s...sleep on the cot."

The woman smiled in spite of the pain written on the rogue's face. "The cot it is," she said as she helped him into it. She looked around at the five peacekeepers and smiled. "I've got to get back to my store, but if you need anything," she paused, the warmth in her eyes showed how much she cared. "Anything at all just come get me."

"Thank you, Sister," Sanchez told the woman as he escorted her from the room. He returned to the clinic and finished preparing it for Jackson's arrival.

Nearly an hour later the two injured men were sleeping as a wagon rolled into town. Josiah had been watching the street, knowing the healer would need all their help to carry the injured man upstairs. As soon as he saw the wagon he turned back to the clinic and told JD and Ezra they'd be needed to get Larabee up to the clinic. He hurried down the stairs, intent on seeing how the blond faired during the ride from the Wells farm. He stopped behind the wagon and looked at the exhausted healer.

"How is he Nathan?"

"He's burnin' up with fever, Josiah. This ride didn't do him no damn good."

Sanchez saw the hurt in the deep brown eyes and knew his friend regretted his choice. "It's not like ya had a choice, Brother. There's no way you could be in two places at once and the two men upstairs need your attention as well. He'll be fine once we get him settled into bed."

"J'siah?"

Sanchez smiled at the half opened lids covering fever bright green eyes. "How are you feeling, Chris?"

"H...hot," Larabee answered weakly.

"I can see that," Sanchez said as he noted the sweat soaked hair and the glistening moisture on the bare chest. "Why don't we get you up to Nathan's and make you comfortable." He turned just as a ball of excitement seemed to land beside him.

"Hey, Chris!"

Larabee managed a thin smile as the youth seemed to bounce on the balls of his feet. "JD."

"Chris, we're gonna have to get you upstairs," Jackson explained as Nettie, Casey and Ezra joined them. "Now, I don't want you tryin' to help us. You just relax and we'll do the work. Ain't gonna be easy on ya, Chris."

Larabee simply nodded and closed his eyes. He heard his friends talking about the best way to move him, but little of it made sense. The last hour of the journey had taken a toll on his body and the pain in his chest was quickly becoming unbearable. He felt a hand touch his shoulder and turned to see the concerned brown eyes of the healer.

"We're ready, Chris," Jackson said, frowning as he saw the pain ripple through the green orbs. Steeling himself against the sympathy he felt he told the men how he wanted Larabee lifted. "Josiah, you get his shoulders. JD, Ezra, you two get his legs. Mrs. Wells, Casey, can you stand back for a minute," he ordered as he jumped down from the back of the wagon. He saw Larabee's eyes were closed once more as they manipulated his patient from the back of the wagon. "Okay, lets keep him as straight as possible. Sorry, Chris," he muttered as an agonizing cry left the blond's throat.

The four men carried Larabee up the stairs and gently placed him on the bed. By the time he was settled and the blanket placed over his legs he'd lost consciousness. Nathan stood up and saw the basin of water on the table next to the bed. He reached for the cloth and gently washed the perspiration and dust from Larabee's heated flesh. He knew he had to check his other patients, but first he needed to make sure the trip from the Wells farm hadn't been too much for the blond gunslinger. He could feel Tanner's blue eyes drilling holes in his back as he checked the bandage. A small amount of blood was evident, but all in all, Nathan was pleased. He cleaned the wound once more and replaced the bandages.

Jackson stood up and rotated his aching shoulders. He turned to find the clinic held more people than when they first entered. Mary Travis, Gloria Potter and Inez were standing next to Nettie and Casey Wells. He picked up a glass of water and drank half of it before speaking. His eyes were met and held by the tracker and he answered the unspoken question.

"He's fightin' real hard right now. The wound in his chest has some infection in it and I'm gonna have to keep cleaning it. His face was burned in the sun and he's suffering the effects of heat stroke. That's gonna make him a might uncomfortable and probably what's causing him ta be sick to his stomach. He's also got a load of cuts and bruises on his body, but none of 'em's serious." He turned his gaze back to the tracker sitting on the edge of the cot. "Now, Vin, I want you back in that bed with that leg up. Buck, you're not gonna be goin' anywhere either. The two of you might as well just give up before ya even ask."

"Can't go anywhere without my pants," Wilmington grumbled.

"What's that, Mr. Wilmington?" Gloria Potter laughed as the ladies' man raised blue eyes but couldn't quite meet her eyes.

"Nothin', Ma'am."

"Senor, I will see about making dinner for all of you. Is there anything I can make for, Senor Chris?"

"He's not gonna feel up ta much for a few days, Ma'am. Maybe make him some broth and juices, but that's about all he'll be able to handle."

"What about these two?" Inez asked.

"JD, how have they been doing?" Jackson asked.

"We're right here, ya know, Nate?"

"I know you are, Vin, can I trust ya to answer me honestly?"

"We've been making sure they ate, Nathan. Inez has been making broth and mush for them," Mary explained, smiling at the distaste on the faces of the two injured men.

"Well, I think we'll stick with that menu for a couple of more days. Now if you'll all leave me to my patients I'll get them settled and resting," the healer told them.

He watched as they filed out, leaving only Nettie Wells and Josiah Sanchez standing in side the door. "Josiah, give me a hand with Buck," he ordered, knowing the woman would want to check on Vin Tanner. He knew how close the two were ever since the conflict with Guy Royal and Top Hat Bob Spikes.

Nettie walked to the bed and sat on the edge. She looked at the pale tracker and tucked the blankets around him. She fussed over him, swallowing as she realized just how much he meant to her. Ever since their first meeting she'd felt something special for this young man. He was as close to a son as she had and she reached for the glass on the table. She held it to him and watched as he drank the clear liquid. Nettie could see the pain in his eyes as she reached for the cloth in the basin. She fought the temptation to wash the flushed face, instead handing the cloth to the injured man.

"Thanks," Tanner drawled, taking advantage of the soothing cloth on his heated flesh.

"You're welcome, Mr. Tanner."

"Not just fer this, Ma'am, fer what ya done fer Chris."

"I only did what anyone would do..."

"No, Miss Nettie, ya done a lot more'n that. Lot've people would've just turned their backs on 'im and left 'im where he was."

"I'm not a lot've people, Mr. Tanner. Now how are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Ma'am. This's jest a scratch..."

"That's not what Mr. Jackson said. He said he had to dig that bullet out've your leg and you've got a fever too. Your cheeks are the color of a lady's blush right now and I can see the pain in your eyes. Now you just lie back and do as Mr. Jackson tells ya to." She turned as she heard a snicker form the other cot. "Otherwise I'll just stick aroun' ta ride herd on ya. That goes for you and Mr. Larabee too, Mr. Wilmington." This time the laughter came from the healer and the ex-preacher.

"Seems like Mrs. Well has your number, Buck," Sanchez laughed.

"I'll be goin' now, Mr. Jackson. You just send someone for me if any of these gentlemen give you a problem." She smiled at Vin and Buck as she continued. "Although with Gloria holding their clothes hostage I don't think you'll be getting too much trouble from them."

"I hope yer right, Mrs. Wells. Leastways there ain't much they can do without their pants," Jackson said as he finished re-bandaging Wilmington's side.

"Take care, Mr. Tanner," the woman said as she left the clinic, relief evident in her eyes now that she'd seen the young man was going to be okay.

"I will, Miss Nettie," he assured her.

"Now, Vin, let's have a look at ya," Jackson said as he sat on the chair next to Tanner's bed. He pulled back the blanket and gazed at the fresh blood on the bandage. Shaking his head, he reached for the edges and carefully peeled it back. The wound was still rimmed in red and he probed the puckered edges with gentle fingers. He heard Tanner sharp intake of breath as a small amount of bloodied pus seeped from the wound. "Sorry, Vin, just gotta make sure I clean this out properly. You're gonna have to stay off it ta give it a chance to heal."

"Ain't got much choice," Tanner stated as the healer continued to examine his leg.

"Nope, ya don't 'cause if ya try anything I'll just holler out for Mrs. Wells or Mrs Potter, or..." he turned to the other cot as laughter billowed up from the ladies' man. "I wouldn't laugh, Buck, you're kind've in the same boat right now. I'm sure Mrs. Travis and Inez could make sure ya stay put as well."

"Ah, hell, Nathan..."

"M...might as w...well leave it, B...Buck."

"Hey, Chris, Pard, how're ya doin'?" Wilmington asked, pushing his body upwards in the bed as he bit back a gasp of pain.

Larabee met the ladies' man's eyes and turned slightly till he looked into the second set of blue eyes. He smiled weakly at both friends before letting his eyes slide closed once more. They thought he'd fallen back to sleep, until they heard a heavy sigh and a moan as the blond tried to sit up.

"Oh no you don't, Chris! Josiah!" Jackson hissed.

"I got him, Nathan. Now, Chris, you just lie there and behave yourself," Sanchez ordered as he placed a hand on the injured man's shoulders, being especially careful with the heavily bandage left shoulder. "You won't be gettin' outta that bed for quite some time and it looks like you'll be having some company for a while too. Now don't look at me like that. Buck and Vin are gonna be just fine. Nathan's just checking Vin's leg and then I'm gonna kick him outta here and make him get some much needed sleep. He's been working on all of you and been neglecting his own need for rest." Sanchez looked up to see the other three men looking at him. "Now the way I see it is Nathan won't rest if he thinks you three are gonna be causing problems for whoever is sitting on you. I mean sitting with you. For the rest of the day it's gonna be me and I know I can handle you three stubborn mules. Right!" It was a statement and didn't require an answer. "Nathan, finish what you're doing then take your own advice and get some sleep. Me and the others can handle these three."

"Thanks, Josiah," Jackson said. Truth was he really was exhausted. He hadn't slept much since Pony rode into town and they'd begun the search for the three missing men. His body was betraying him even now, as in spite of his worry he yawned. "Shit!" he hissed.

"Finish up, Nathan, then get out of here for eight hours."

"Eight hours?"

"At least. I'll send someone for ya if anything happens. You can sleep at the church."

"Go, N...Nathan. W...we'll be o...kay," Larabee smiled and let his eyes close as once more pain and weakness took over.

The clinic was quiet and had been that way for nearly two hours. Nathan was sleeping at the church and JD or Ezra checked to make sure he was still there. Josiah kept everyone out of the clinic as the three men slept. If anyone came to the door he quickly shooed them outside and spoke to them on the landing. Inez showed up with sandwiches and coffee for him, broth for each of the injured men. Buck and Vin roused long enough to accept the meal, but Chris had yet to wake.

Josiah sat on the chair next to the blond's bed. He knew if the fever continued to rise he'd have to go for Nathan, but for now he continued to bathe the sweat streaked forehead. He turned as he heard movement behind him and saw Vin Tanner sitting on the edge of the cot. The young man was slowly rubbing his hand along the bandage covering the wound on his leg.

"Are you okay, Vin?"

Tanner looked up and rubbed his sleep-laden eyes. he shivered for a moment and then nodded. He looked at the figure on the bed and asked, " how's he doing?"

"There's no change from the last time you asked, Vin. He's still got a high fever and I may have to send for Nathan if it keeps getting higher. It'd help if he'd take some of the willow bark tea, but he doesn't seem to hear me."

"Want me to try?"

Sanchez nodded at the tracker and hurried to his side just as he stood up. "Let me help you to the chair, Vin," he ordered.

Tanner muttered a quick thanks as he sank into the chair by Larabee's bed. He watched as the blond head tossed back and forth on the pillow. He felt a cup pressed into his hands and watched as Sanchez lifted his friend forward. He reached out and lightly tapped the pale cheek. "Come on, Cowboy, got somethin' fer ya ta drink. Let's see those green eyes of yers."

Larabee moaned as his upper body was lifted upwards. The movement pulled on the wound in his chest and he gasped. He sucked in a deep breath as he struggled to open his eyes. He waited for the spinning room to right itself and his eyes finally came to rest on the pale man sitting on the chair. He knew the arms holding him up belonged to Josiah Sanchez and he was grateful for the added strength. He frowned as he remembered Tanner being attended by Jackson.

"S...shouldn't..." he couldn't find the moisture to continue his question, groaning as a harsh cough ripped from his chest.

"Easy, Chris, here, I got somethin' fer ya ta drink," Tanner said as he held the cup to his friend's mouth.

Chris sipped the brew and grimaced at the familiar taste. He turned away and met Sanchez's eyes.

"Chris, you need to drink it. It'll help with the fever," the ex-preacher told him.

"Tastes like shit."

"Of course it does, Stud," the three men looked towards the cot where Wilmington was now sitting up. "I think it's some kind of rule. Has to taste bad so you can feel better. Now drink up!"

"Hell, B...Buck, gimme a shot of c...cheap w...whiskey if t...that's the c...case."

"Chris, drink!" Tanner ordered.

"C...cheap whiskey t...tastes bad..." Larabee said hopefully.

"Yeah it does, Chris, but you aren't getting any," Sanchez warned.

Larabee took a deep breath and sipped more of the tea. It wasn't long before his stomach began to churn and he turned away. He felt Sanchez ease him back to the pillows and smiled gratefully. He shoved the blankets back in an effort to get rid of the excess heat surrounding him.

"H...hot," he mumbled.

"I know you are, Chris," Sanchez rewet the cloth and placed it across Larabee's brow. He looked across the bed at the tired tracker and knew it was time to get him back to his own cot. He walked around and saw movement from Wilmington. "Buck, you stay where you are or I'll use the ropes."

"Hell, Josiah, ya let Vin up."

"Only because Chris needed him. Now Chris is sleeping and Vin's going back to bed. Let's go," he ordered as he helped the sharpshooter back to his cot.

"Josiah, I think Ezra has a name for people like you."

"What name would that be, Buck?" Sanchez asked.

"You're a tyrant!"

"I'll take that as a compliment. Now, if I'm a tyrant then I make all the rules. The first rule is you boys stay in bed where you belong."

"What's the second rule?" Tanner asked tiredly.

Sanchez grinned from ear to ear and looked at the two men. "That you obey whatever rule the tyrant lays down." Laughter billowed from the ex-preacher as the two men glared at him. He walked back to the blond's bed and continued to bathe the injured man.

The next two days became a fight to rid Chris Larabee of the fever sapping his strength. Between the four healthy peacekeepers they kept Buck and Vin in their own beds. Nathan hated getting Vin from his bed, but there were times when he had little choice.

Tanner was the only one to get through to Larabee when he sank deep into the nightmares caused by the fever. He'd speak calmly to the sick man as he fed him the tea, water or laudanum Nathan felt was needed. He held Larabee as his stomach heaved, rubbing the trembling shoulders in an effort to show Chris he wasn't alone.

On the morning of the third day in the clinic, Chris opened his eyes and looked around. It took him a few minutes to remember where he was and with the remembrance came the pain. He bit his bottom lip as he glanced around the clinic. Nathan Jackson was at the stove, stirring something in a small pot. Ezra Standish sat playing cards with Buck Wilmington. Vin Tanner seemed to be sleeping on the cot across the room. Only Josiah Sanchez and JD Dunne seemed to be missing.

He tried to struggle upwards in the bed and was unable to stifle the gasp of pain as the movement pulled on the stitches in his chest. It was as if his awakening spurred the clinic into action. Jackson dropped the spoon and was instantly at his side. Ezra Standish threw down his winning hand and moved to help the healer. Buck sat on the edge of the cot, knowing he'd be in the way if he tried to help. Vin Tanner swung his legs over the edge of the bed, biting back the pain that shot from the wound in his thigh. All eyes were on the injured leader as the door opened and Sanchez and Dunne made an appearance.

"Just lie still, Chris," Jackson warned. He could see the pain written on the handsome face, but he also noted the lack of fever. "Ezra, sit him up a bit so I can put some pillows behind him." The two men worked until they had Larabee sitting up in the bed.

"T...thanks," Larabee said gratefully.

Jackson nodded and immediately went into healer mode and gently removed the bandage from Larabee's chest. He examined the wound and replaced the bandage. "It's looking much better, Chris."

"Don't feel much b...better," Larabee told him honestly.

"I bet it don't, but it will. You just got to be patient..."

"Chris, patient? Ain't gonna happen, Nathan," the ladies' man laughed.

"Shut up, B...Buck," the blond warned, a small smile easing the sharp tone he used.

"Chris, looks like you've pretty well got this fever beat, but it's gonna be a week or so before you're up and around. Now I got some laudanum here for ya and I want you to try a little broth."

"Yeah, Stud, you can have my share of the broth too. I think Inez is bringing me a nice juicy steak."

"Buck, you got a p...promise to keep," Larabee reminded him.

"Oh, hell, Chris, I haven't forgotten, but I'm still confined to the clinic so," he wiggled his eyebrows at the blond, "all's fair until then."

Larabee shook his head and smiled at the men in the room. His eyes finally came to rest on the worried face of the tracker. The man had remained silent through the whole conversation and Chris was worried about him. His eyes sent the message across the room and he watched as the sharpshooter reached for a pair of crutches and hopped across to him. As if by some unspoken signal the other men left the two peacekeepers alone. Josiah helped Buck to his feet and out to the landing.

Nathan stood in the door and looked at the tracker. "Vin, give him a little laudanum if he needs it." He smiled at the almost imperceptible nod as he closed the door.

"Thanks, Vin."

"Fer what?" Tanner asked, genuinely puzzled.

Larabee lifted his right arm and placed it behind his head. He was grateful for the time alone with the young man he thought of as brother. "You kept your promise. You and Buck."

"What promise?"

"That you'd stay alive," Larabee turned his head as he thought of his own promise, one he felt he reneged on.

Tanner felt something was wrong with his friend, but couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Chris? What's wrong?"

"N...nothing, Vin. Just tired," Larabee sighed as he relived the cave in.

"Ya cain't lie ta me, Cowboy. Now git yer face back this way and tell me what's wrong!"

The blond slowly turned back to the sharpshooter. "S...supposed to get help."

It was whispered so softly Vin wasn't sure he heard it at all. "What are ya talkin' 'bout, Chris?"

"I didn't keep my promise to you and Buck. D...didn't get h...help."

The tracker knew pain and weakness were combining to make the blond speak so openly. He also knew where the guilt he saw on the handsome face came from. "Seems ta me ya did all ya could. It wasn't as if ya were up to yer usual level of stubborn mule headedness. Ya should've told us ya were shot."

Larabee met the blue eyes and shifted slightly. "Didn't want to worry you. Wasn't anything you or Buck could've done."

"And there wasn't nothin' ya could've done 'bout gettin' help. B'sides it was Pony that rode into town and got help. Guess that means ya kept yer promise." The sharpshooter's eyebrows shot up and he smiled at his friend.

"You're pushing it, Tanner."

"He's yer horse, Chris, and if it wasn't fer 'im gettin' ta town I might've been listenin' ta every story Bucklin could make up. Now ya wouldn't wish..."

"Alright, Vin," Larabee laughed weakly. He knew Vin was right, that there was nothing he could've done, but it didn't make it any easier. He closed his eyes as a new wave of pain washed over him. He reached for the bullet wound and rubbed his hand against the throbbing pain there.

"Here, Chris."

Larabee opened his eyes and looked at the cup in the sharpshooter's hand. "W...what is it?"

"Water."

Larabee drank the liquid and grimaced as it was taken away. "Sure it was," he said, he'd recognized the aftertaste of laudanum, but finished the water anyway. He yawned and continued to rub his hand against the wound.

"Think I better get Nathan in here 'fore ya rub the bandage off," Tanner grinned as he used his crutches and hopped to the door. He opened it and smiled as the others hurried into the clinic.

Nathan moved to the blond and touched his forehead, smiling as Larabee grumbled a protest about being coddled. "Now quit your bitchin', Chris. I'm just makin' sure your fever's not comin' back."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not, but you will be," Jackson said as he fussed with the blanket and tucked it around his patient. "How about tryin' a little broth?"

"N...not really h...hungry."

"Chris, ya ain't gonna git yer strength back if'n ya don't eat."

"L...later," the blond sighed as his eyes closed, but they could tell he wasn't sleeping.

Vin stood over his friend a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. "Nathan, how long 'fore me and Buck can get outta 'ere?"

Jackson frowned wondering exactly what the sharpshooter had in mind. "If ya both keep behaving yourselves and you use those crutches you can both leave day after tomorrow."

"Day after tomorrow. Guess that means Buck'll be free ta go meet the ladies."

Wilmington caught on to what the tracker was trying to do. A small smile grew on his face as he rubbed his hands together. "Oh, the ladies are sure in for a treat..."

Larabee opened his eyes and glared at the rogue. "You made a promise, Buck, no women for a week once Nathan released you."

The scoundrel sat on the edge of Larabee's bed, both eyes twinkling mischievously. "What ya don't know, Stud, won't hurt ya. Since ya won't eat yer probably gonna be stuck in here and won't be able to see what I'm doin' anyway. I told you before all's fair..."

"Nathan, gimme the damn broth!" Larabee hissed, glaring daggers at his long time friend.

"Here you are, Chris," Jackson placed the cup in front of the injured man and joined in the laughter of his friends.

"Boys," Larabee smiled as he took a sip of the warm, flavorful liquid. "I want you all to help me see that Buck's promise is kept."

"Hey now, Chris, that's not playin' fair..."

"Neither was blackmailing me into drinking this stuff." His eyebrows narrowed and he smiled. "After all you did say all's fair."

"He's right, Buck, you did," JD affirmed.

"Shut up, Kid," Wilmington said as he sat on the edge of his cot. He would keep his promise to Chris no matter what he said. It would be one of the hardest things he ever did in his life, but it was the least he could do for almost costing his two friends their lives. He watched Larabee finish the broth and smiled as the blond drifted off to sleep in the company of friends.

Blossom stood in the door to the clinic, smiling as her eyes lit on the handsome face of the man she loved to consort with. There was something about his blue eyes and the mischievous gleam in them that just made her knees weak. She looked towards the second cot and saw the tracker sleeping. She could see the devilment in this one as well. From the time the door of her room opened and he winked at her, she knew this man could be a lot of fun. She sighed as she turned to the third occupant. Chris Larabee, now here was a man who kept his inner feelings to himself. He seldom laughed, but when he did the smile oozed a confidence she'd never seen with any man, including the man she was about to rouse. She briefly wondered where Nathan and the others were, but didn't let it stop her.

She walked towards the cot and knelt beside it. She would be in town for one week and she planned on making the week one she'd remember for the dry months that lay ahead of her. She'd be spending some time visiting her husband and wanted some fun before her lifestyle was curtailed for a while.

She leaned in over the sleeping man and nuzzled against his neck. A soft sigh from him told her he was enjoying her attentions. "Buck," she hissed softly. When the rogue turned his head his moustache tickled her cheek and she couldn't stop the giggle as she nuzzled against the whisker-roughened face. She sat back on her heels as his eyes finally fluttered open. "Well, it's about time you woke up, Buck," she smiled at the man as his eyes opened wide.

"B...Blossom!" he muttered as he sat up and reached for her. "When'd ya get back, Darlin'?" He asked as he pulled her into his arms.

"Easy there, Buck. We got all week," she said.

"All week. You mean it?" Buck laughed as he stood up and held her close.

"Yep, but I have to take the stage out next week."

Buck smiled at the thought of a week in the arms of this woman, one of the few who seemed more than capable of keeping up with his rowdy nature. "Well, let's go check out that bed of..."

"Going someplace, Buck?"

Wilmington turned to the still pale man lying in the bed across from him. His face dropped and his eyes lost their merry twinkle. He released the woman and sank back to the bed as Blossom looked from him to the blond. She frowned at the stern look on the gunslinger's face, but there was something hidden in his eyes that told her he was teasing. She looked at the scoundrel and sat beside him, placing an arm around his shoulder.

"What's wrong, Buck. Aren't ya comin'?"

"Oh, darlin', now's not the time ta be askin' a question like that," Wilmington sighed and heard his two friends laugh. "Shut up!"

"Buck."

"I can't, Blossom."

"What do ya mean ya can't. I thought you were shot in the side. Not there," she exclaimed and looked at Larabee and Tanner as the two men laughed even harder.

"No," Buck's hands caught and held hers. "I can assure you there's nothing wrong below the belt, Blossom, but you see, ah..." the rogue stammered as he tried to explain the problem.

"You're seein' someone else! Who is it? That new saloon girl, Miss Lucy. Can't ya see her next week, Buck? I won't be back for three months."

Wilmington looked at the blond and sighed as he saw the green eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ah, hell, Chris, have pity."

"Sorry, Buck, Nathan released you today and a promise is a promise," Larabee told him.

"What promise?" Blossom asked as she looked from the two smiling faces to the frowning face beside her. "Buck? What promise?"

"Shit, ah shoot, Blossom. I made a promise to Chris that I wouldn't...Ah, I wouldn't...you know..."

"Spit it out, Buck," Tanner laughed as he sat on the edge of his cot, placed his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"Shut up, Tanner," Wilmington spat.

"Buck, times wastin'."

"Dammit, look, Blossom, I can't," he saw the fear in her eyes and sputtered. " No, no, I mean I can, but I can't."

"I don't understand," Blossom said as she took Bucks hand in her own. "Either you can or you can't, Buck, I only got a week."

"That's about how long Buck's got too," Larabee laughed as he sat on the edge of the bed. He laughed even harder as the ladies' man glared icy blue fire in his direction.

"Don't make me shoot ya, Stud," the scoundrel snarled.

"All's fair, Bucklin and you made your bed," Tanner joined in the teasing.

"You two are real Bas..." he stopped and looked back at the woman beside him. "I'm sorry, Blossom."

"Are you still hurting, Buck?"

"No, but he will be," Larabee laughed and held his hand to his chest.

"Ya got that right," Tanner agreed.

Blossom shook her head, confused at what the three men were talking about. "Buck?"

"Look, Blossom. I can't leave here. Nathan wants me to watch out for Chris..."

The door opened and Nathan Jackson stood framed in the bright sunlight. He frowned as he saw Larabee sitting on the edge of the bed. He walked towards the pale gunslinger, his gaze coming to rest on the couple sitting on the cot. "Thought you were anxious to get out of here, Buck?" he asked innocently.

Blossom stood up and brushed her skirt as she hurried to the door. "Buck! I got one week before I leave and I don't intend to spend it listening to your lies. I'll be in my room when you're ready!" She raced out the door, her skirts bellowing out behind her.

"Somebody want to tell me what that's all about?" Jackson asked.

"Buck's keeping his promise," Tanner said as the healer sat beside Larabee.

"Uhoh, and Miss Blossom was here because of his..."

"Animal magnetism," the tracker finished. He couldn't help smiling at the scoundrel as Wilmington walked to the door and watched the woman walk away.

"Shit! Me and my big mouth," the ladies' man said as he came back into the clinic. "Ya know, Chris, this is one of the worst things ya ever made me do."

Larabee grinned as he looked at the sad eyed ladies' man. "Ah, Buck, ya know I'd let you outta your promise, but you'll feel better if you keep it."

"Shit, Chris, What if we put it off for a week?"

"Not a chance," Larabee hissed as Jackson removed the bandage from his chest. "Besides I gotta edge my bets." He felt the healer probe the area and winced as his fingers touched a particularly tender spot.

"Sorry, Chris. It's looking better. I don't think there's any more infection in it."

"Then I can get out of here?" the blond asked hopefully.

"Not for another week, but if you're up to it you can sit on the landing for a while."

"I'm up for it," Larabee winked at the ladies' man and smiled as Wilmington gave into his laughter.

"Very funny, Larabee, but I'll get ya back. Now what's this about edging a bet? What's Ezra got going now and what does it have to do with me?"

Chris eased to his feet and was grateful for the helping hand on his arm. He looked at the healer and sent a silent thank you his way. By the time they sat him in the chair he was covered in sweat, but he felt great.

"Thanks, Nathan."

"You're welcome, Chris. Now just stay put and I'll get you something to drink. Are you hungry?"

"Not for broth or mush," Larabee answered.

"How about a sandwich? I'm sure Inez has some roast beef left over."

"That sounds great, Nathan. Thanks." The healer left, knowing the two men would make sure Larabee stayed put.

"So what's Ezra taking wagers on?" Wilmington asked as he sat on the top step.

"He's got a bet goin' on whether ya can make it a week without thinkin' below yer belt," Tanner told him.

"Well, hell, that's not part of the promise. The Promise was I'd stay away from the ladies for a week. There was nothin' said about thinkin' about 'em," the scoundrel winked as Standish and Dunne climbed the stairs towards them. "Hey, Ez, what kind've odds are ya givin'?"

"Sorry, Mr. Wilmington, but the betting closed the minute you were let out of Mr. Jackson's clinic," Standish told him as he put his little book back in his pocket.

"Don't worry, Buck, I made a bet for ya," Dunne smiled.

"Did ya bet for me or against me?" the scoundrel asked.

"Let's leave it as a surprise," the kid answered.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Larabee?" Standish asked.

"I'm doing better, Ezra. Thanks for the deck of cards."

"Anytime," Standish assured him as Sanchez and Jackson joined them. The seven men were whole once more as they looked out over the town they called home.

Epilogue...one week later.

Chris sat in the chair outside Jackson's clinic as the sun made its way above the horizon. He smiled as the tracker came up the stairs carrying two cups of coffee. The gunslinger was looking forward to the hot brew, the first one Nathan allowed him since he'd been injured.

"How long?" Larabee asked as he accepted the cup of hot liquid. He was still stiff, but the pain was easier to handle with each passing day.

"I just saw Buck going to the bathhouse."

"Uhoh, think Inez is in trouble?"

"I think anyone in skirts is in trouble. Did you collect your money from Ez?"

"Not yet, but I will," Larabee laughed. He knew there were only two winners in Standish's wagering book. He was one and the second was standing beside him.

Buck had made it a full week without flirting with a single woman. Most of the people in town were in shock that the scoundrel was able to keep his promise, yet Chris had always known the dark haired man would keep it. He watched as Wilmington came out of the bathhouse, dressed in a white shirt and dark pants. His hair was still wet and he swung his arms out to his sides.

"Come and get me, Ladies, Ol' Buck is back and ready to party," Wilmington shouted as he headed for the saloon. "Inez, darlin', I'M BACK!" He stopped at the door and looked towards the clinic. He smiled at the two men standing there before disappearing through the swinging door.

Chris smiled as the ladies' man disappeared. He looked at the tracker and smiled. Wilmington had just rose another rung on the ladder in his eyes. He'd just proved that a promise made by him was a promise kept.

THE END