Just Finish It by Anne Tolar

First one in, last one out. That was generally just like Josiah, but he wouldn't be the last this time. When Ezra finished with the computer enhanced composites, they all gathered around a conference table downstairs in the main office. At a glance, the two faces looked very similar. But looked at straight on, the similarities faded to nothing.

Adam's woman, Ms. Pettijohn's sister, had a more angular face. There was a difference in demeanor. The sister had a slightly sour look and a ramrod-stiff bearing. Chris's ghost had a brazen smile and held her head cocked to one side, with eyes that could bore into a man's soul. Looking at them, Chris decided he liked the ghost a great deal better. Looking at the live one, he felt his blood turn to ice.

"Okay, Vin, Adam, you two find out all you can about the live one. Josiah, you willing to head to the boundary with me tomorrow?"

"You can't go tomorrow."

"Nathan... I am going. Only thing you can do to change the situation is to come with us."

"Muleheaded!"

"Dad, you said you were going to take Mom and me."

"I was... but I've changed my mind."

"Do a lot of that don't you?"

"When it's a good thing to do. Terry..."

"I know... work. I don't think you're strong enough for the trip yet, but if Josiah's along, he'll drive, and you shouldn't get too tired."

"I'll play my CD for him. Put him to sleep last time."

"You said I could come."

"Kid's asked to work for me one day, and he wants the day off."

"He'll make up for it, Vin. I promise. You can go. Buck, you got time to go along?"

"Always ready to ride."

"What time should my jeep be ready to roll?"

"Say four in the morning?"

"Four?"

"Get up, be ready, or get left behind and work for Vin. Suite yourself. The jeep is moving out whether you're in it or not."

Chapter 11

The boy slept in one corner of the rear seat. Buck snored softly in the other. Chris never slept on the way to any place of interest, and the preacher was an habitual early riser, and he was driving. The two in the front talked as quietly as they could above the wind that whistled past the jeep's speeding tires.

"You got any idea what would have stirred all this up?"

"Been thinking about it. Took the liberty of calling Sybil Bird."

"Birdbrain?"

"People say worse about you."

"Don't remind me. Well, what pearls of psychic wisdom did she dispense this time."

"Asked if you got hit on the head any time around when these started. Told her about the stalker case."

"But nothing happened then."

"Don't you remember what happened?"

"What?"

"You couldn't work for a little awhile. You were driving all the saints crazy. I was coming up here; Terry asked me to bring you along with me that trip... was the first time we came to the boundary together, more important it was the first time you met Bill."

"I never knew Terry put you up to it, but, yeah. That's right. I'd been coming up to this area for years before that trip. What of it?"

"We were in his library and you got your first feeling. Remember?"

"No."

"Whole house is a big book cellar, but you were in that cramped little room, up on the second floor, and you told me that picture you were holding made you happy, scared, angry, and terribly sad all at the same time. I could tell that was true, but you didn't have any clue why."

"I don't remember a picture."

"Think. Picture was of a pretty, dark headed woman with her arm around a little boy that was sitting in her lap. They were smiling at someone, but you could tell it wasn't at the photographer. A beautiful picture... a very, very old picture. Don't you remember?"

"Yeah. Seems I do remember, but what's it got to do with anything?"

"When we got in the truck to come home, you had one hell of a headache, out of the blue. Lasted all the way back to Phoenix. Thought you might leave me there for a second or two."

"Just a headache, Josiah... a damn miserable headache, but a headache."

"You ever had one like that one before then? Bird says that headache could have been someone's first attempt at contact. You've been having your feelings ever since then."

"Ah, hell, Josiah."

"Didn't say it was true. Just telling you what Bird had to say. Says the blow from that stalker could have made you a little sensitive. Says the impact of the bomb may have really opened up channels."

"If we're gonna talk this nonsense for the next four hours, I'm taking a nap."

"Fine by me... But tell me something. What got you interested in the boundary area in the first place?"

"My family comes from around there. Just a hobby of mine."

"The Larabee line?"

"Yeah? And..."

"How much you found out?"

"Not much. Mostly just family tree. Seems the line may go back about six or seven generations from Adam before it gets to the big line. Earliest I've heard of was my great, great, great... see that's three... yeah, my number three great-grandfather."

"What do you know about him."

"His name was Chris, John Christopher Larabee."

"Just like you! Well, I'll be snookered. But you're not a third, or fourth, are you?"

He grinned a wicked little grin. "No. Seems about that time the name went sort of left handed. Larabee line came through a man named Franklin John Larabee, Sr., my fourth great-grandfather, and seems to have gone on through an older son named Mitch. John Christopher Larabee supposedly died without leaving a legitimate heir. You know what that sort of makes my second great-grandfather."

"You mean our family branch comes from a bastard?"

"Well, I'll be, Stud! Mine does too! And they came from around here somewhere, too."

"How long you two been listening? It isn't that unusual, you know. That would be at least seven generations back for you, Adam, counting me. Doesn't mean anything now. Whoever your fourth great-grandfather was, he must have been some sort of a mean son-of-a-bit... uh... gun."

"Why?"

"Bill says he was a gunslinger."

"Mighty interesting. Never heard of him. Most have not have been a real successful desperado. What else do you know about him?" Buck was getting interested.

"Meeting Bill was the opening of the doors to the family tree. Since Josiah introduced him to me, I've been back over the years to look at what he's found. Mostly just a few newspaper articles, few photographs, couple of letters is all... oldest article is from a little dried up place called Four Corners. First time the original Chris was mentioned, the writer says something about him making the streets run red with blood."

"Can we see it?"

"Adam, we'll see what there is to see. Town don't exist any more, hasn't for a long, long time. Bill's been searching the area for leads all these years. I guess I'm his one living prospect. I told him back then not to expect any money out of me... said he don't want any. Looks like the hunt's what he's after."

"Bill don't need the money."

"Don't look like he's got so much lying around, Josiah."

"He uses the name Bonney for a hoot, but he ain't kin to Billy the Kid. His bunch traces to one of the original Cowboys. Guy sometimes rode with Ike Clanton's bunch. Bill says he was either smart enough or fast enough to get out alive, but not lucky enough to last much longer. I guess he's the only person living who knows what his family name really is."

"Thought they were all hunted down and killed."

"Couple of the Cowboys disappeared, and took a nice cache of money with them. He's not a millionaire, but he's comfortable."

"But, Stud, what made you want to come back at this little point in time?"

"Just a feeling..."

"Aw, hell, Chris. You got more feelings than a giant squishy squid."

"Not that kind. Got a call from Bill about two weeks ago, before I met that last little problem. He said he had found some things I might be interested in seeing. Said not to rush, he was checking out some of the stuff, but when I got ready he'd be there. Well, I just sort of felt like it was time to come."

"So you left Vin to find a live woman who scared you out of your wits to come look up somebody who's been dead more than a hundred years. Seems like a real sensible plan to me."

"She's got him spooked, Buck." The preacher raised his eyebrows and spoke in mock-confidence to the man. He kept one eye on the generally repentant sinner in the seat next to him. That one often had to seek forgiveness for lost of temper with his friends.

"Who's got him spooked?"

"The ghost."

"I suggest you drop that topic, and now!" They could see that the tips of his ears were beginning to redden, but he wouldn't blow for awhile.

"You know it's the truth. The woman at the hospital is after you for some reason that's got a fact connected to it... we may not know the fact, but it's her fact. The ghost... she's got a fact out there too... and you've got a feeling the two facts are connected. Now tell us, that's what this is about isn't it... tell the truth."

"Ah, hell!"

"Hey, Dad, this is way cool."

Chapter 12

"Family name... that's it! Vin Tanner, you old dog, you have NOT lost your touch." Adam hadn't been right. Vin would be sure to include wasted time due to poor communication and the verification of details in the boy's punishment... ah... work assignments. He had said they were sisters. They were in fact sisters-in-law, maybe twice former sisters-in-law... now four, no five, marriages apart. They were a truly looney bunch. Their lives were fairly easy to follow, if you knew how.

Ms. Pepperjohn was Patsy Landry-Coffey-Boyd-Pepperjohn, born thirty-four years ago in Eagle Bend, New Mexico. The woman at the hospital, age twenty-nine, was Cynthia Hicks- Boyd-Landry- Coffey. The women's friendship had lasted longer than all of their marriages put together. Ms. Pepperjohn had avoided doing time; Ms. Coffey had been a one-time loser, back when her last name was Landry. Nobody had checked a substitute's background that close. Dang, she would have probably sued them if they had.

Cynthia's marriage to Patsy's brother Earl had been high on octane, short on brains. Earl had only two true talents... he was a car stealing fool, and he knew how to make a very efficient bomb. He could hot-wire any car, truck, or van, day or night, and from all accounts his work with explosives was a piece of art. He seemed to enjoy the unusual twist that caught his victims off guard and unprepared, and nobody had been able to connect him directly to the thefts or the bombs until Chris got in the middle of it.

Vin remembered his name well, once he got to the connection. Earl messed up when he picked on Colonel Fred Montrose, the Dealingest Van Dealer in the Four State Area. Earl had stolen six from the Colonel's four lots, three brand new, three premium repeat sellers. Earl just got cocky... he tried for a third one from the same lot in one month.

Chris Larabee had been waiting, counting on Earl's ego to spring the trap. Earl liked to shop on Friday nights. Their fight became something to remember when Landry, under the bright white lights on the van lot, jabbed the sharp end of a tire tool into Chris's thigh, but Chris stood up, pulled the object free, and returned the favor. Then he had pulled it free again and gently bashed the perp over the head. Courtesy of an early CB call from a faithful viewer, the station truck being close to the lot, the amount of bright red blood on them both, and on the light-bathed pavement, plus the lack of major action stories, they were all on the late-night news. It didn't hurt business any that Chris won the fight, if you could count seventy stitches as a win. Later he lost a little of the law suit... it took a hundred and twenty stitches to patch up Earl, who sued Chris for the injuries he sustained. The jury, made up of two military types and four older women who all thought Chris looked like their own good boys, awarded Earl fifty dollars just to acknowledge that Chris did threw the first punch, but they made Earl pay his own court costs. All said, Earl lost money on the deal. Chris's vindication was sweet. The charges on seven counts of grand theft auto stuck, but the charge for having bomb making components got thrown out on a technicality. Earl was sent to serve the better part of twenty-five years in the state prison right there in Phoenix..

"Must be a record." Vin was proud of himself. It had taken him less than twenty-four hours from sketch to identification. He'd even had one little nap, and he hadn't left the building. "Now let's see what that old bomb-making, van-stealer's been up to since we last saw him." He pulled out his cell phone and pushed code one. "Hey, Chris! Got her! Guess who the woman at the desk was married to!"

"Great! You got her?"

"Yeah, I got her... well, I got her, now I'll go get her."

"You ain't got her... you ain't got her... You and Ezra get after it. GO!"

"They got the ghost's twin?"

"Shut up, Josiah."

"If I got to shut up, I got to have my music. Think I've got one you'll like."

"Suite yourself."

I'm a whisper of smoke... all that's left of two hearts on fire... that once burned out of control... you took my body and soul... I'm just a ghost ...

"Shut that dam... darn thing off!"

"It's your love song... thought you'd enjoy it."

"It isn't my love song. It doesn't mean anything to me. I wish you'd all just stop trying to get a laugh out of this."

"Easy, cowboy."

"Buck, I've told you I've hated being called that all my life."

"And why's that, Stud?"

"I don't know. Word just puts my teeth on edge. I just have a ... bad feeling every time somebody calls me that!"

"So... these feelings of yours... they go that far back, now do they?"

"Would everyone please just shut up and stay out of my business!"

"Thought we were all here on your business, Chris. You want our help or not?"

Chapter 13

"Howdy, Josiah, Chris... glad to see you made it. Larabee, you plumb look like a full-timer from Hell." Bill met them on the big gravel driveway that circled in front of the two-and-a-half story house in the area of deserted countryside that sat at the boundary point of four states... Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah. It was the only place in the country where four states met exactly at the corner. Bill's property sat as close as any to the exact boundaries, with the federal historic marker just down the road. People referred to it as Four Corners, but the town that had born the name had disappeared long ago.

"Feel about the same. You any different?"

"Naw. Who're the newcomers?"

"Young one's my son, Adam. Oldster is my partner Buck."

"How many partners you got anyway? You trust em? That one looks plum ornery to me. Hey, I mean to tell you I found you something GOOD this time!"

"Well, lead us to it... but first, before I try to climb those stairs on my bad leg... you got any of your remedy?"

"I got remedy if you got candy, little boy." Bill could make him grin like a fool.

"Pay the man, Adam."

"Can I have a taste, Dad?"

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen... and a half?"

"Sixteen AND a half... no, don't think you're ready yet."

"Don't worry, Kid... just stick with me. Old Buck's got his ways."

"Let's put it this way, Buck, I smell Bill's remedy on my son's breath, I'll..."

"We gonna fight or we gonna look at the GOOD stuff." Bill led the way inside. When they all had their libations in hand, he escorted them to a open room at the back of the first floor. There, on a huge round oak table, sat a box that had once held a lady's wide-brimmed hat. It had obviously come from somewhere under the earth, but had survived in tact... black ribbon tie still attached. "I ain't traced this stuff yet, but I've started thinking about things that might match from the room upstairs. But, just you look here... this you're gonna love."

He raised the lid of the box and displayed the treasure trove. Papers, folded articles, small envelopes, little boxes, every type of thing to temp the imagination. Where to begin.

"You sure all this stuff's related to me?"

"Best I can tell... but we'll get to some serious comparisons while you're here."

"Where'd you find this stuff."

"My family's owned this ranch since the 1890's, around in there. Was real run-down when we got it. It was owned by something called the Culpepper Mining Company, but the owners had left it vacant for years. It went for back taxes. There was an old bunkhouse out across the front yard, singed real bad from a fire. There was a hidden cellar under it. When I finally got someone to help me pull down the last of the old wood framing, I found that cellar. Couple of weeks ago I found this box buried way down inside it. This house was singed too, on the other side. That's the side away from that little room upstairs. Nothing in that room was touched... least according to my family's legends... but they've been know to brush up the legends just a bit... but look here... it's a deed to the property and the deed to the Mining Company. It's been in this box all the time."

"You ever heard of it?"

"Nope. But this isn't the real kicker. Come on Larabee, let's go upstairs."

The two moved together to the central hall stairs and up the elegant stairway to the second floor. At the top, to the left, they came upon the closet Chris remembered. As they entered, it appeared as if nothing had moved in the ten years since he had first entered. Bill pushed aside a book and reached out to take the old picture Josiah had remembered from it's place on the mirror of an old dressing table that was stored in the room. He handed it to Chris, who took it reverently... remembering the strange affect it had had on him before.

"Here, bring these too." Bill handed him an envelope, containing several other pictures that had been tucked into a table drawer. "Bring em... let's go back downstairs... come back up here later if you want."

"This is the one we found a long time ago. Woman, child... looking at somebody..." Josiah leaned closer to look at the faces. "You sure you don't know either of them?"

"Nope. No notes anywhere on the place to tell us who they are."

"I found this up in the room. It's a newspaper clipping from way back... in a paper from some place called Eagle Bend. It's so faint now, I can't much make it out. Give it to Adam... young eyes might see better than mine."

"You wanted to know more about what this place was like back then... maybe this will show you something. Treat it real gentle. Paper that old will fall apart real easy." Adam swiftly claimed the square of paper from his father's hand. Nothing could be made out from the side facing him. "There's nothing here."

"Don't give up too quick, boy. Like your dad with that old article about the first Chris, anything you hunt for is worth more than a quick look. Why don't you take it over there by the window, and see if you can maybe find something to help us."

"Chris... Get over here!"

"What is it, Buck?"

"I'll be damned ... I think it's YOU!"

"What!" The group gathered around the man... peering intently at a small gold locket that lay open in his hand."

"Where's that from?"

"It was in the box... wrapped in this..." Buck held out a small white box, lined with a piece of velvet."

"It can't be me."

"Damn, Chris. If it ain't you, you've got a twin."

"Not a twin," Josiah answered quietly, "a number three great-grandfather. You're looking at the first John Christopher Larabee."

"Except for the old duds, you'd never believe it was anybody but you. I knew this stuff was gonna be GOOD."

"Any more with him in it? Find the photographs... get them all out." Chris began to concentrate on the items still enclosed in the box.

"It's turned inside!"

"What?"

"This paper's got print inside... it's been turned inside all this time. See... come look, Dad... see... help me get it open!"

"All right... easy... do it slow or it'll tear, or even disintegrate."

The tattered old newsprint gave its contents grudgingly, but after some patience and perseverance, what was left of the headline from the Eagle Bend News became clear. It read MURDER: Chris Larabee's Wife and Son Slain.

Without looking at anything else, Chris Larabee understood. "They were his wife and son."

"Who?"

"Woman and child in the first picture."

"And just how do you know that?"

"I just know."

"Read the rest of it."

"Buck, you boys read it... I'm going for a walk."

"Come on! You can't dodge this bullet, Stud."

"Look, Buck, don't call me that... at least not now." He walked away, leaving them behind... wanting to be alone. In his distraction, his steps carried him up the stairs again to the little room on the second floor. He pushed open the door and turned on the dim light in the ceiling. Why was this place so familiar? Sure, he had been here. But why did it have such a strong pull... and a not pleasant pull. He touched items on the dresser, rummaging through the unopened drawers. His hand was seemingly drawn to an old straight razor with a plain metal handle. It seemed he could feel the glide of the blade across his face.

As he looked, his attention was drawn to the drawer he and Bill had opened before. Stuck in the opening was the corner of yet another photograph. He worked it free carefully, and drew it out into the light.

He stood there again... him... but not himself. The man that wasn't himself was dressed in a smartly tailored tuxedo... the same one that even now hung to the side of the room. It was dusty, but it had been well preserved, carefully wrapped... long tail coat, stiff white shirt... in the photo fitted to perfection. But the woman who stood by his side in the picture was not his wife. She had never been the first Chris's wife. What she was was the ghost. "How do I know this... why do I know this? Who are you?"

While he spoke to himself and the picture, he got a different answer. "You came back to me, Chris."

"Who are you?" He thought he yelled it as he spun toward her, but if he did, it must have been all in his head, just like she was. Or was she? Why was she connecting to him?

"Forgive me?"

Without another word, he knew her name. His lips shaped the name as his mind spoke it to himself. "Ella?"

"You DO remember me."

"But I'm not that man. I can't be remembering you!"

"Waited so long for you... so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" What did she have to be sorry for?

"Your family: Sarah, Adam; my husband, Joseph... killed them, hurt you... my baby..."

"Your baby? I wasn't ever your baby... what are you talking about?"

Tears seemed to run down her shadowy cheeks. She stepped closer. "Won't you ever come back to me?... I was yours... you were mine."

"I wasn't ever yours. My wife's name is Terry... not Sarah. My son is Adam, okay, but he's not your baby... he's Terry's baby.""

She sobbed... a heart that must have been broken forever. "I did it all for you."..

"Just stop! You didn't do anything for me... especially anything like that!" The sudden anger and utter madness he felt consumed every part of his being. There was suddenly no thought for the headache at all... just a blind, visceral hate. One single word kept echoing through his mind, BITCH!

She vanished.

He came downstairs, confused and caught up in anger. "It's like I've been fighting this for over a hundred years! It just doesn't make sense.."

"Have a nip of my remedy. What happened up there?"

"She happened... that lousy bitch is back! Now she's here."

"Whoa. What's made you so definite all of a sudden about her lack of character?"

"Buck, she killed them."

"Who?"

"My wife and son. Sarah and Adam."

"Wait just a minute, Stud. Your wife ain't ever been Sarah, and nobody's killed anybody, least of all not today. Adam's right over there. You doing all right?"

"She killed her husband, too."

"Who was her husband? You sure you're all right?"

"Joseph Petry."

Chapter 14

"I don't have a clue what's driving all this, I don't have any idea why this is happening to me, or why it's happening now, but I've had enough for today. Look, let's just go get a bite to eat and get us a place to spend the night. We'll come back tomorrow for some more. That okay with you, Bill?"

"Sure, I'm always here. I'll leave everything right where it's at so we don't have to start over. Best place to eat's at the Wagon Wheel down the highway, but you know about that. You can put up at the Days End."

"You coming?"

"Nope. Just gonna grab a snack and a jawbreaker, call it a night myself. See you fellas bright and early, now."

They walked out the door, into the dwindling daylight.

"Hey, Dad! Do you think you just might be John Christopher Larabee?"

"No. I'm one John Christopher Larabee, but I'm not the John Christopher Larabee you're talking about. I may be pushing forty--"

"Pushing or pulling?" Buck snickered.

"Buck, shut up. I may be pushing forty, but I hope I don't begin to look like I'm more than a hundred-twenty."

"But maybe you are him, reincarnated, brought back to meet your long-lost love."

"Shoot." He suddenly laughed. "Long-lost love? That bitch? In a pig's eye. Son, you've just been going to too many of those crazy movies lately, and listening to Josiah too much. I don't think you ought to be going to any more of those scary ones right now."

"But there's a new one coming..."

"Yeah... what was that you were talking about? Cherry Falls? Well, I think you ought to stay away from stuff like that. Who was that guy you said was gonna be in it?"

"Names Beans, or something like that. I know I've seen him before, liked him, too, but I can't remember what show."

"Well, I don't think you need to be going to any of those. And like I say, quit listening to Josiah, and Bird, and all this fool nonsense about reincarnation. Once through this living stuff is hard enough."

"It's not about ghosts or reincarnation, Dad. It's about young, nubile, women." The grin he gave them might have come from Buck, or Chris, at an earlier age. "I thought you and Buck just might go with me. Josiah, you can come too, if you're not afraid the congregation will see you. You know, get me in... its NC-17."

"And exactly what will your Mom be doing while we're all off seeing this fine, educational film?" His father's smile was lightly mocking, the grin infectious.

"Well, thought we'd take J.D. with us. By the time it comes out, he should be ready. We'll leave Mom with Casey watching the baby. She's a sucker for babies. Is that a plan or is it a plan?"

"Not a bad plan... just might work. Boys night out! We'll have to see. Just how old are these nubile young women?"

"Supposed to be real young. Supposed to be high school. Probably about twenty-six." The grin mirrored it's father.

"A little young for my tastes at any rate. Well, you'll have to definitely be along... you wouldn't want Buck and me to get the reputation for being dirty old perverts. No, come to think of it... Buck's already got that reputation."

"Now you just wait a minute, Stud--"

"Hey, Dad. " He was almost seventeen, and he was in great spirits... he felt he belonged with this bunch... now and for years to come. He was simply reaching for the door of Josiah's jeep when the first shot rang out.

Chris slammed him into the gravel and behind a tire. "Buck, you see anything?" The rifle spoke again, and then again.

"Came from across the road, Chris. Think from up on that rise You stay here, I'll check it."

The preacher didn't hesitate. He was clergy, yes, but he was also a former officer with the Arizona Criminal Investigations unit. He pulled a shotgun from the rear of the jeep. "I've got Buck's back. Chris, you stay with Adam. Chris? Adam? Buck, get back here!"

Chapter 15

"Damn, Dad. Does it always hurt like this?" In the middle of this group of men, the ones he thought of as friends and as close to heroes as he would ever come, he'd be damned if he was going to let himself carry on like a baby. After all, this was what his dad called only a scratch.

"Sometimes lots worse. Your lucky. Won't even need stitching." Buck knew it hurt, but he also knew the boy was trying to be a man, so he kept it matter of fact.

Even Josiah recognized the boy's need. "Son, you're going to be just fine. Now, your Dad's got one in his shoulder... that'll take a little digging. Probably put him out a while so they can get at it."

Adam winced at the thought. "Won't that make you sick again?"

His father was slightly woozie from a shot the attending had already given him to ward off infection. "It's not bad... not even that deep. Look, Adam's right... don't let him put me out... just numb it real good. If he puts me out with the wrong stuff, I will be sick. Soon as he's through, let's try to get something to eat again... I'm starving."

"I want to see Chris Larabee and Adam Horton and I want to see them NOW!" She was coming in the door of the little clinic at Teec Nos Pos, Arizona. The town was tiny; the clinic tinier still. But the medic on hand seemed to know his business. Chris, Adam, Buck and Josiah were all crowded in a tiny cubicle, drape drawn, at the end of a stubby corridor. Four strong, capable men. They were men who could seemingly take on the world. They could look at the blood, anticipate the pain, and still discuss plans for dinner... and they every one froze when they heard her voice.

"Doctor, you can just leave them to me. I am a fully licensed emergency room technician and a registered nurse practitioner. I'm their caregiver, and I'll see to what they need. If you want to confirm my credentials, just call Nathan Jackson, head surgeon at Phoenix Memorial Care Hospital. If either of them give me any trouble, you'll be the first to know."

"Who called her? Did somebody die here? Josiah!" Chris literally cursed. He knew it had truly hit the fan this time.

"Geez, Josiah! You called Mom? She'll make me go home!"

"Afraid I pushed the panic button. You looked pretty bad, Adam was bleeding too. Couldn't tell how serious. Thought she ought to know." For such a big man, one friend, and especially that friend's wife, could turn him into a coward amazingly fast.

"How did she get here? Buck, did you do that!?"

"Well, I just called Vin. Vin decided to bring her in the helicopter. He's waiting in the parking lot."

"The big chicken... around hospitals and, now, around her, too. Oh, hell. Is it too late to get us out of here?" Her husband flinched as she snatched open the drapes.

"You are not taking him anywhere. He's coming home with me!"

"No, Dad! Come on, Mom."

"Hey, let's just not have an all out fight right here, right now. Everybody just calm down. Look, Terry, he's fine. I'm fine. It's all a false alarm. These two just panicked."

She studied the bandage on her son's arm. Clean, no blood, neatly done. She took a deep breath of obvious relief. She inspected the cubicle and found it well stocked with what she wanted next. She chose a bottle of strong antiseptic, unwrapped a sterile probe from the table nearby, and walked behind her husband. After she poured a liberal amount of the liquid into the wound, she jabbed the probe none too sympathetically into the opening on his shoulder. She continued to berated him as she dug, "Oh, you look like you're just fine."

"Ouch!" He didn't say anything else as she reached for long metal tweezers, digging inside the wound again until she trapped the bullet and janked it free. "Hell, Terry." He fiercely grasped the side of the table, fingers digging into the padding, as blood gushed from the hole.

"Ugh! That's disgusting, Dad."

"All part of it. God, Terry, what are you doing to me back there?"

She had begun to stitch the wound closed, not bothering with anything to numb the pain. "Macho bull! Don't you make this sound like it's nothing. You know you could both have been killed. You can do exactly what you want to... you can come home or you can just stay here... I don't care what you do... but I'm taking Adam somewhere where he will be safe!" She jabbed him again. The hypodermic was filled with a solution meant to finally help ease the pain.

"Safe? You want safe? Just where in the hell is that going to be? What could have been safer than here? All we were doing was looking at old newspapers and deeds. We had just walked out the door, going to a little twelve-table diner in the middle of nowhere to get a little dinner, get us a little rest. Who knew we were even here? And if it wasn't safe here, what makes you think it's safe in Phoenix? I think they're probably heading back to Phoenix, wait for us there. I think you best get your head on straight and stay here with us."

"You've always got an answer!"

The pain killer finally kicked in, blending wickedly with the mixed antibiotics they had given him before. He was quickly getting very drunk and very sleepy. "And I could... use... your help... Make sure... finish... this shoulder right. Getting just ... little... sleepy... you... take care of..." He slumped over onto the table, breathing softly.

"He's always got an answer."

"Well, he don't ever like to be in a fight where he doesn't know at least one way out." Buck just watched him sleep. He thought it had been a most undignified retreat, but a good one nevertheless.

He never did get his dinner. Chris made up for it over a lumberjack breakfast they fixed in Bill's kitchen. It was there he was alert enough and wary enough to broach his plan... the new one... the one that just might keep her there.

"Look, we need more hands in this. We're all going through that stuff, but nobody's keeping it straight... keeping up with all the details. You could do that."

"Nathan let me off to come see about you. He's got rounds this afternoon."

"Rounds? You saying there's not one person in that whole damn hospital who can fill in for you for a day or two? Now who's being a jackass... uh... workaholic? Come on, stay here. If you stay, Vin and Buck can go investigate the sniper's nest while we stay on the stuff at Bill's. Look, I was fooling around about you staying last night, but I'm not now. We need to find out all that's here. If the two women aren't connected, I need to get rid of one of them, and something tells me I'm getting real close to understanding the ghost."

"What do you understand?"

"She thinks I'm my third great-grandfather, the man named Chris". He showed her the photograph of the man who wasn't himself."

"My God... That's you!"

"Not me... my third great grandfather."

"That's the woman in your sketch! Who is she?"

"I don't know who she was. Now, she's just a ghost. I think there was something between them. She's trying to make him love her again. Seems there's something she needs to tell him. Hell, maybe it's that, maybe it's not. I've just got an idea about how to get to the bottom of this one, and it's all got to do with that picture. If you'll stay put, I might just be able to stay long enough to finally understand without you and Adam being in Phoenix alone."

"And what about Adam? He got shot once staying here with you."

"Mom, it's important. If Dad's the reincarnation of my number four great grandfather, this might be our chance to prove it."

"Reincarnated? Have you been filling his head with this?"

"No! I don't think I'm anybody reincarnated, but there's a connection somewhere. Why it's coming to me, I don't know. I just want to get through with it and get it out of my head."

"You're just having a grand ole time with this."

"No. I'm just trying to lose one grand old headache... and I mean the ghost. She goes, my headaches and half my problems go with her.

"Okay, then, where do we start."

"At Bill's."

Chapter 16

"Petry?" Bill grabbed the deed from the box and put it in Chris's hand. "The owner of this ranch was Culpepper Mining Company, but the mining company was owned by Joseph Petry. You say the woman in the picture with you... with your great, great, great grandfather... murdered three-G's wife, Sarah; son, Adam; and her own husband... Joseph Petry? Why?"

"I don't know! I don't know!" He rose and left the room, this time heading for the land outside. He walked quietly, trying to think it all through... to think like Chris Larabee of 1880-something, trying to get back to being Chris Larabee of the year 2000. The only way to do it was to face her. "Shoot." He found himself drawn to the old bunkhouse. Just the charred flooring now, nothing else was left standing. It seemed nothing of her life was left standing anymore, nothing except the house... except that little room. He turned around, entered the house, and with determination climbed the stairs to the second floor and that damn little secret-hiding room.

Nothing. Nothing at all. Two hours and not one sound. "Okay, where are you?" Chris stood in the center of the small room, dressed in the old tuxedo. He was amazed at the perfection of the fit. It didn't really surprise him. He had known exactly how it would feel before the fabric ever touched his skin. He fingered the metal straight razor, knowing somehow that she had held it too.

"You're scaring her away. You're too nervous, you're thinking too much."

"Josiah... she said she killed my... his... wife and son and her own husband, too. Doesn't seem a woman like that would be scared of anything, now does it? She wants him... not me... maybe the clothes will pull her to me. Somebody back then kept them."

"Well, if she wants him, you're him all over again in that. Sit down, get quiet... let her come to you. What were you doing when she came last time?"

"Just standing here... holding that picture I found."

"Here it is," the preacher handed it to him. "Every other time, from what you tell me, you've been asleep or real quiet when she showed up. In other words, you need to get quiet... real quiet... right now... then she can get through. Why don't you just sit down there on that chair, just quit thinking about anything, maybe just doze off... see what happens."

"You staying?"

"No. Don't think this is anything that's got room for more than two."

He sat down. His mind didn't want to cooperate, going over and over the headlines, the photographs, the words. He made himself stop, concentrating instead on the two photographs he now held... the one of a woman and her son, the other of a man and the woman who wasn't his wife. He never heard the door open, never knew when someone entered the room behind him.

"I'm sorry... so sorry." Her voice was low and full of sorrow. She was so close to him, he felt her emotions like they were his own..

"Hey, cut it out... your being around hurts me."

She receeded, silently beginning to disappear.

"NO... no... please... don't go... just don't get so close, and don't get so upset. I think that's what it is... look, I won't go anywhere. Tell me what this is about. Who are you? Ella who?"

"Ella Gaines Petry Larabee. Don't you know me, Chris?"

"I don't know you, but obviously my third-great grandfather knew you pretty well." He held up the photographs.

"Then you're not my Chris?"

"No. He's been gone a long, long time. You weren't married to him were you?"

"We should have been married. When we were here, he promised to stay... that we'd be married. But he left me... drove me away. Shouldn't have told him the truth, shouldn't have hired those men, but he found this room. I came back, and I've waited here for you... for my Chris. I thought he had come back. I thought it was finally our time."

"Why's it so important for you to be back at the same time as him?"

"Have to tell him... tell him I'm sorry... tell him about something. I need him to forgive me... then I can rest."

"You say you killed three people. Why would you do something like that?"

"I loved him. He was mine, once. He should have been mine. Joseph was nothing to me... it was the land. I needed the land to bring him back to me."

"Loved? You really loved the first Chris?"

"Yes. He was my first love, and he was my last love too. But he left me. He should have been mine!" Suddenly she was angry, terribly angry... the intensity of her anger threatened to send him back to the floor in agony.

"God, stop it! Back off. You can't change that now... but maybe there's something you can do."

"What?" The emotions cooled.

"Tell me what you would have told him."

"How will that help?"

"Somehow, I think it makes a difference. Maybe he is here... maybe he just can't or probably won't talk with you... maybe just remembering it hurts too much. I don't know anything about this, but if he's listening through me, maybe there's still a chance for you to get through to him. Why don't you tell me what there was between you and what happened."

"We were both so young... lovers in Kansas City. He was such a strong, handsome man... wild, reckless... fighting, always fighting for me. But he left me. He didn't say why, one day he just went. I never did get over him... he was supposed to be mine! Well, he married... damn him... he married that woman Sarah, and she gave him a son. He thought he loved her, but he loved me... he had to love me... he was always meant to be mine. She couldn't have him... I wasn't going to let her... So I hired a man to make sure she didn't keep him... she died in a fire and that boy died with her. I thought he would come back to me then. But he didn't. He just moved on. It took me years to find him, even with him being within a couple of days ride from that little ranch of his.

I found him. It was time for us. It would have been so perfect. He and a bunch of his friends... there were seven of them in all... came here, thinking they were helping me scare off some claim jumpers. Well, they didn't know, but those men worked for me. I just wanted him here so I could prove to him how fine our life could be if he came back to me. It was going so well... I had him... back in my arms, back in my bed, better than Kansas City had ever been. Then that friend of his, that Vin, went and found out I owned the mine and the farm, and that the men worked for me. I could see I had to get rid of all of them if I was going to keep him. But, that man made Chris suspicious... he found my room... this room that held all the treasures that reminded me of our life together and how fine things were going to be. Once he found it... and his wife's locket... I thought he would go insane. And then he found out I was going to kill his friends. Do you know he tried to shoot me? Me? But he couldn't do it... he knew he was bound to me forever.

I had to run. After he left, after that Vin quit coming around, I finally came back. I wrote Chris once, just so he knew I forgave him and that I still wanted him. I even signed it with my married name. He didn't come looking again. Later, I found out I was pregnant... his baby, my baby."

Chris's breath caught in his throat. "So, the baby doesn't refer to Chris... it refers to a child?"

"Our child. Chris's child and mine... our son."

"What happened to your child?"

"I lost him... I lost him... I was alone. Everything was gone. The mine, the horses, I couldn't go on. I had to find a way to care for the boy, but I still needed to look for Chris. Chris should have been mine!"

"What did you do?"

"I gave him to someone near here who would raise him for me... keep him until I could find Chris and put things right. But when I couldn't find Chris, and when I came back, the man had gone. I couldn't find out where he had gone, where he had taken my son."

"What was your son's name?"

"I named him after Chris's father... Chris had told me all about him, about how hard things had gotten between them. I named him Franklin John Larabee."

"That was my second-great-grandfather... same name as the old patriarch."

"Second-great grandfather? Then I'm your great-great-grandmother?" A smile replaced the sorrow she had carried so long. "So something of our love did survive. That is what I've looked for all these years. If I couldn't have Chris, I wanted to find our son."

"Maybe that's the connection. He won't have anything to do with you... you hurt him way too much. I can feel the hate and the torment just thinking about you brings his soul. I've been looking into the past... somewhere I've just made a connection that reaches between the two of you again... the love must have been there, it must have been real and strong. He was just beginning to feel the love for you all over again, but you killed it. You killed the love just as sure as you killed Sarah and Adam, and your husband. I understand him now. Somehow I know exactly what he felt. He must truly have gone nearly insane, finding out that the one woman he had loved, and had begun to love again, had killed the woman he loved most of all. And that you killed his son. He didn't come looking for you again because, if he found you, he would have had to kill you. Killing his wife and killing his son, then plotting to kill his friends too, those were things that Chris Larabee could never forgive. But too much that he loved had died. He just couldn't be the one to end your life. He knew that if he killed you, the thing he would truly kill would be the last bit of his very own sanity and all of his soul. What happened to you?"

"You've seen where I am. I couldn't go on any more. There was nothing left... not Chris, not anything, and my son was gone. I went to the bunkhouse on a beautiful summer morning... a morning like the day Chris left. I went down into the cellar and hid my box, the box with all the important papers in it. I piled things on top of the trap, hoping the memories would survive. I set the fire in the far end of the room, and then I watched it burn. I watched it burn for as long as I could... just to see what it was like. I shouldn't have done that to her or to her child. It was a horrible way to die. What I minded the most was the smoke... but I was prepared to... finish it. I've waited all this time to tell him I'm sorry. What can I do?"

"You can rest, now. It's over. Your son survived, and at least five generations since him have survived. I think there will always be Larabee men... even if you had to borrow the name for us to establish our birthright. And you know what? I think in some way, the John Christopher Larabee that you knew, that you loved and hurt so much, he'll maybe one day forgive you too. You gave him back a son. I don't think he knew that until you touched his soul through me. For that, I'll have to be the one to forgive you."

There was silence in the room. He looked at the photograph. When he looked back, she was gone... but there was something there. Something more.

"Well done, son."

He spun. The man who looked back at him might have been himself. Had he been there in life, he would have been dressed in total black. "You're here, too?"

"Seems like there's lot's of souls around this old place lately that could connect to me and my time."

"So you saw her?"

"Yeah, I saw her. You're right, I don't think I'll ever be able to reach out to her... not in all eternity. But I'm glad you were able to do it for me."

"What happened to you?"

"Now if I were to tell you all that, you'd give up the search. It's been nice to have you come around here now and then. I'm just glad to know there was a son and a namesake. Wish I had known him. Me, I had a good life. Took a good while to get it right. Not anything real fancy, just a life. Those friends of mine, the ones she talked about trying to kill? If she had done it because of me, I would have died along with them. It was us being together that made the difference... in my life, in their lives too. Shoot... people sometimes got to calling us Los Magnificos. Hard to believe that could happen to a bunch of fools like us. Good men... damn good friends. A bunch fit to die for. It was that bunch that kept me sane. They're the one's who gave me a life after Sarah and then gave it back to me again after Ella."

"Why have you been here? Did your life end here too?"

"No... it's her. She's kept me here. Most crazy woman I ever knew. She's kept me coming back here all these years. But it didn't do her one bit of good, I made sure of that."

"Maybe you should have talked with her sooner. If you had talked with her, maybe she wouldn't have had such a hold on you. More than a hundred years is a damn long time to get stuck in one little room."

"I wasn't here all the time. It don't work like that. Just seems everytime I got to doing something else, something kept bringing me back here. You were just the last one. You tied such a damn strong string from me to her that I couldn't break it too much any more. I thought you'd never just finish this. In my day, I'd have kicked your butt."

"Can you make threats like that from where you are? Were you really a gunslinger? Were you a cowboy."

"Way I was then, that's the way I am now. Made it here in spite of the fighting, drinking, carousing. Lived a better life there at the end, but I wasn't no saint. And boy, don't start that gunslinger stuff again... and one more thing, don't you EVER, EVER call me a cowboy!"

"That comes from you?"

"What?."

"All my life I've hated being called a cowboy, and I didn't have any idea why."

"Hated it because of my father. I guess strong hates, and strong sorrows, live on just like old loves do."

"Well, I've got to ask it one more time. What about the gunslinger thing... my boy will want to know."

"Your boy... that one downstairs? Good boy, fine son."

"He is. Gonna be strong... I think he'll be a lot like you. What do I tell him."

"Tell him sometimes the reputation just comes, whether you earn it or not. Once you've got it, most times it stays... whether you deserve it or not. For the rest, he'll just have to find out himself, make his own decisions, live his own life."

"What about you. Are you free now?"

"Expect so. Only the good Lord knows."

"You visit with him a lot?"

"Josiah always told me I needed to keep in touch with my real Boss."

"Josiah? You knew Josiah?"

"Son, that bunch of yours... those downstairs... they're not my friends. They're your friends, but there's a strong connection between your time and mine. You hold on to em, all of em... bring those other two along... they're part of it too. The number seven was always a real strong Larabee number. And another thing... you keep hold of your Sarah."

"Sarah? I don't know anything about Sarah? My wife's Terry."

"Maybe yours... but not mine. Sarah... never was another one for me like her."

"You mean... Terry is Sarah... reincarnated?"

"Don't think so. But even if she ain't... you've sure found yourself a real close match."

"If I come back here, will we be able to visit again?"

"Who knows? If I'm here, we'll visit. But I never was one for sticking in one place too long. Always seemed to be moving west. But son, one thing."

"Yeah?"

"I sense you've got other trouble... trouble with a woman because of a man?"

"Yeah. There's another trouble all right. Nearly got my boy killed yesterday. We haven't been able to figure it all out so far."

"You watch out for that one. It's a trouble that's almost as old as time. Nearly as old as me. You and your boys best take care when you're dealing with a trouble that don't know how to die. Seems about as bad a trouble as was between me and the Norris Brothers... I used to think dying would be worth it if those boys and their kin would just leave me alone. It's like Buck always used to say... you can run, but you can't hide."

"Know what?"

"What?"

"My friend Buck still says that today."

"Not surprised at that one. Not surprised at all. Still like women?"

"Yeah."

"Just goes to show... the world don't never, ever really change. Well... going now. Thanks... and, son... wear your holster high and watch your back."

He was gone. The room seemed so empty. Just a room filled with old photographs and old mementoes... but the voices were silenced. Chris hoped the trouble, at least this one, was silenced forever.

"Chris?" He looked around to find Terry coming out of the shadows.

"How long have you been here?"

"Long enough. Did I really see what I thought I saw, or did I fall asleep and have one hell of a dream."

"Let's put it this way. When it comes to Chris and Ella, I think we'd best just humor them. If they're not real, I don't want to be the one to tell them."

"Me either. There's one thing for certain, though?"

"What's that?"

"I know where you got some of your very best assets... like your darling green eyes, your thick blond hair, and that extremely nice tush I just love to squeeze."

"Woman, you're talking about a man, a ghost, who's nearly a hundred-fifty years old."

"Oh, no, I'm not." She ran her fingers through his wonderful hair, then kissed him on lips that were always inviting, and then she reached around and grabbed him enthusiastically on two of his fourth-great-grandfather's best legacies. "Are you okay? And Chris, do you think you can keep this tux?"

She had to wait for the answer. He was more interested in returning her kisses for quite a few minutes. "Oh, I'm just fine. Yeah... I don't think Chris would mind about the tux... and I won't mind, so long as Ella doesn't come along with it. There's sure one good thing about old Chris."

"What's that?"

"He seems to be a nice, friendly, contented soul these days, and he doesn't give me a headache."

Chapter 17

"She's gone? You really talked with her?" Josiah couldn't wait for the next meeting with Bird. "You think you'll ever have a chance to talk with her again?

"Don't know. She seemed content, at least when she left." They were packing their things into the jeep.

"What did you find out?"

"I'm not her Chris."

"So, what's news about that?" Buck couldn't believe his relatively sane friend was hooked into this.

"She's my third-great-grandmother."

"What!" Josiah and Buck literally squeaked.

"Boy, did I tell you or did I tell you that this trip was gonna be good! You owe me lots of candy, boy... lots of candy... and no dang store bought jaw breakers this time... I want five full pounds of real, mountain made, hand pulled, salt water taffy... made in the Great Smoky Mountains... nowhere else."

"Bill... how am I supposed to find that in the middle of the Arizona desert?"

"Shoot, Dad... internet. I'll see he gets it for you, Bill."

"Shouldn't that be Mr. Bonney?"

"No... the boy and I've got a real good understanding going. He calls me Bill, I tell him my last name... one of these days."

"Well, Bill... we've got more than enough this trip to keep us talking for quite a while. We won't be gone too long, but we've got work to do. Give me a call if anything really good shows up again."

"You got it... and remember... wear your holster high and watch your back."

"What?"

"Just something my uncle used to say."

"Bill... who was your uncle?"

"Now if I were to tell you all that, you'd give up the search. It's been nice to have you come around here now and then."

Chris gave up. One spooky story answered was enough for now. "Come on Terry... let's get out of here."

"I'm flying back with Vin. Nathan's waiting for me."

"Ah, right, Vin. My friend, a word, please?"

"Sure, Chris." They stepped off to the side, leaving Terry waiting impatiently at the helicopter.

"You and Ezra ever get a hold of that woman?"

"Well... no. She wasn't where I thought she'd be."

"How do you know?"

"Well, I called her house, and all I got was an answering machine. Far as I know, she didn't know anybody was on to her... she just wasn't there.

"No... Dang, Vin, she's hunting me. You can bet she's got caller id. Don't you think she knows where I work? If you called her from the office, she probably traced the number back to MAG7. Then, she was watching you, watching Terry. You two probably talked over the phone about where I'd gone... and then she was here. Just cause I left town didn't mean you could let up! Look... you get back there and you FIND her. And until I get there, you better keep an eye on my wife. Anything happens to her..."

"But, she'll be at the hospital!" It was a terrible thing to see a hunter turn into the rabbit.

"And you'll be beside her in every hallway, outside every operating room, follow her everywhere she goes... right?"

"Dang, Chris. How am I supposed to find that woman if I'm babysitting Terry?"

"Let Ezra find the woman. You tell him where to look. He doesn't get out near enough. As for you... you owe me."

"What do I owe you?"

"If it hadn't been for you, that woman wouldn't have wound up here to shoot Adam and me. If she hadn't shot us, or had us shot, Buck wouldn't have called you, and Josiah wouldn't have called and scared Terry half to death. If they hadn't done that, you wouldn't have brought Terry up here and given her the opportunity to personally stitch up my shoulder. Her temper, but MY shoulder... That hurt like hell... no deadening... no dinner... you get my drift. The least you can do is protect her for me for one afternoon, even if it means you've got to smell hospital to do it."

"Dang, Chris. You know hospital smells make me puke."

"Well, guess what... you aren't the first. Suck it up, Tanner... and you better do it. Now, she's got work to do... you two best git."

As he watched them fly away, Josiah came to his side, "Come on, Chris... we best do the same thing. You back seat or shotgun?"

"Shotgun! Can't sleep in the back."

"You gonna sleep... thought you'd fill us in about that little room upstairs and your new friends."

"Dang, Josiah... all it seems like I've done is talk for days. I want a good, long nap."

"You gonna nap, then I need my music."

"Play it then."

"You don't mind?"

"Hasn't got anything to do with me. Least not anymore."

Chapter 18

One day later, Chris Larabee, the one firmly rooted in the year 2000, stood in the middle of his office, glaring at Ezra. He was angry... well, maybe not angry, just highly irritated, and his shoulder had reached the stage where it itched... all the time. Of course the nicely healing wound was just out of reach of a very soothing scratch. They had tried... it wasn't their fault she wasn't around. But how did two trained agents like Vin and Ezra manage to lose Cynthia for three whole days.

"Ezra, look, I just want this over. Why would they be after me now? Earl went to prison ten years ago. Why now?"

"He went to prison ten years ago, but he died four months ago."

"What?!"

"Yeah, didn't I tell you Vin found out Earl Landry died four months ago?"

"Ezra, I'm gonna have to hurt you one of these days. And Vin didn't say anything either."

"Seems he got pancreatic cancer. Didn't last long."

"Wouldn't wish that on a dog."

"Neither would Cynthia Coffee or Patsy Pepperjohn, and they all probably decided you were to blame."

"I might can hurt people in a lot of ways, but since when am I responsible for cancer?"

"You put him in the state pen. They probably figure if he wasn't there, he wouldn't have gotten it."

"That doesn't make sense Ezra."

"My intellectual friend, you are attempting to put solid logic into two crazy women's minds. A fully functioning woman's mind often goes slightly sideways, even on a good day. A woman who's crazy to begin with... not even I would like to try to make sense of one of them, much less two."

"What makes you think they're crazy? They just loved Earl. No accounting for taste, but that alone doesn't make them loco."

"But they built those last two bombs."

"What?!"

"Didn't I tell you? Buck finally got permission to work on the cars yesterday. He found what was left of two lipstick cases in what was left of your car, and another one in J.D.'s. He says unless you boys have taken up some sissy ways that he doesn't know about, somebody used them to help build the bombs. And before you ask me how or for what... I don't have even an abysmally small clue. I recommend strongly that you ask Buck."

"Ezra... I'm definitely gonna have to hurt you. How would they know how to build a bomb?"

"Well, Patsy's seemed to have a knack for that sort of endeavor since she and Earl were kids. It appears they used to play with that kind of stuff... blew up stumps on their pa's dirt farm or some such, just for fun."

"Jesus! What about Cynthia? She just being helpful?"

"No... that just might be what made those two women such good friends... got close while they were reminiscing about the good old days of high explosives. And to make things worse, Cynthia was connected to a real loon named Boyd for a time. His talent with explosives made Earl look like a beginner. People out in the area where he was were glad he's not around anymore, but somebody said they hoped she stayed gone just about as much. Said all kinds of strange things happened when Ms. Cynthia got really ticked at something."

"Any chance she's gone back to Boyd?"

"People wouldn't mind if she had, but it seems our Mr. Boyd wasn't nearly as talented as people thought. He managed to blow himself up a few years back."

"Ezra..."

"I'll get to it... it'll all come out eventually... just give me time."

"Do you have any idea where Patsy's gone to? Is she still around?"

"No."

"Well, where the hell is SHE?"

"She was at school the day before you went up to see that hermit. Wasn't there the two days you were gone, hasn't been there since."

"And are they both, just by any stretch, real sharp shooters?"

"Now that you mention it... Vin says they're NRA Rifle and Pistol Champions. Both of them."

"Anybody think about making a just a little connection there? Maybe letting me in on this?"

"Terry said to let it alone. Said you'd been shot once."

"SINCE WHEN does my wife give orders here. She gives orders at that hospital, but not here... not when she's trying to just protect me from something, and her protecting me just might get us ALL killed. Let me be gone for two little days, this place goes slam to hell. And another thing, nobody's said one word about J.D., Casey, or the baby. Is everything okay about them?"

"Casey and the baby went home... both fine as can be. J.D.'s scheduled to go home real soon."

"Has anybody figured out why they went for J.D. to begin with?"

"No... just doesn't seem to be any connection there."

"Well, has anybody thought about security around him?"

"No. Only one they've been shooting at lately is you, and of course, Adam."

"Adam? You think they were shooting at Adam on purpose... not just hit him while they were trying for me?"

"He wasn't near you, according to Buck and Josiah... was a good distance away. If they're marksmen, markswomen... oh, hell... sharpshooters, they shouldn't have made that big a mistake."

"Where's Buck? Where's Vin?"

"Buck is upstairs in the cave. Vin's at the hospital... he's been grumpy as a mountain lion since you made him stay at the hospital the last few days."

"Now I'm not feeling so guilty that I did. You get Buck down here. I'll get in touch with Vin. While you're at it, see if Josiah will come. Get them all Ezra, now!"

"You care to explain..."

"NOW!"

"Vin, just stay there! I'll call back when the others are set. Just don't let her out of your sight... get her and move her in with J.D. so you can watch them both... Don't argue with me, Vin.. No I'm not sure of anything... JUST HUMOR ME!" The connection broke with no sign off. Vin had gone back to work.

"Leaving him there, huh? You must be purely ticked at him to leave him in a dang hospital this long!"

"Shut up, Buck. Look, Adam's in trouble." He was pacing the room.

"What?"

"Adam's in trouble. He's at school. There's nobody around him. Why didn't you or Josiah say something about how far away from me he was standing when the bullet hit. I was just talking with him, I wasn't paying attention. If he gets hurt..."

"What's stirred this up? Both those women have headed out for parts unknown by now."

"I don't think so."

"What?"

"I think they're after Adam, then me... I don't think J.D.'s the target anymore."

"Why?"

"She didn't know about Adam. There was no connection."

"Would you stop and at least try to make sense."

"Pepperjohn didn't know I had a son. She just picked the youngest one that had any meaning for me... that was J.D., the youngest partner. But that secretary said Adam's name out loud in Pepperjohn's classroom when Terry called him. She found out about Terry at the same time. Up until then, they didn't even know I had a wife, much less a son. That's when she found out there were better targets."

"Damn, Chris. Terry..."

"She's safe for now... Vin's got her and J.D., too for now. I need you to go get Adam... bring him here. I'll get Josiah to pick him up here, then take them to the hospital where he can help guard the bunch. Ezra can take over for Vin. I'll get Casey and the baby to the hospital, just in case they really are set on getting to J.D. Then you, and Vin, and I will team up, cause the three of us are going hunting."

"Are you sure about all this?"

"Buck... JUST..."

"Right. Well, then, let's ride."

Chapter 19

Nothing. Three days they hunted; three days they waited. Three days he ran them all crazy with just humor me. The phrase was't remotely funny anymore. None of the targets would stand being guarded, held hostage to Chris's unreasonable fears. None of the other protectors were willing to hold them hostage either.

On the afternoon of day three, Terry led her own rebellion. "Casey and the baby need to be home. J.D. can't leave because of you. Adam's missing school, and Nathan's making strong rumblings about the security of my job. It's all because of you and a thought that ran through your head, and I'm not willing to put up with this anymore. Ever since you came back you've been acting crazy... not nuts... just plain crazy. You just need to take time off, get over what's gone on... Being shot, seeing Adam shot, having those strange dreams you've been having... you'll be fine, but you need to rest. Those women are gone... that's all there is to it."

She knew he hated to let it go... especially when that left the fear unanswered. "Look, my dear, sweet, darling, hardhead... Why don't you just come home for a few days. Nathan or no Nathan, I'll take some time off too, and we'll just get a little R&R together.."

"Yeah, Dad. When I get out of school Friday, why don't we all go see a movie. We talked about that up at Four Corners. It'd be fun."

"Okay... okay. It's bad enough when the boys think I'm nuts, but when you two think it... I guess it's time to give it up and let things drift a little bit more back to normal. Friday night, surf and turf, a movie, maybe even some ice cream."

"Rocky road, Dad?" There was more to it than a joke, and his father knew it.

"Always is, just more than usual right now, but we'll get through." He made himself snap out of it. "Okay, I'll go back to the office, finish up a few things, but come five o'clock, I'm home."

He only had one afternoon to get this done. They weren't gone... he could feel it. There were no leads to where the women were, except Patsy's landlord said she had him holding her mail for the next month. She had said she and her sister-in-law were going on an extensive vacation to Brazil. "Brazil! Like hell."

"Pard, I think your dang feelings have either lied to you or left you high and dry. Whatever happened up in that little room... those spooked decided you were just too much trouble. I think you're still spooked, but now you're head's creating its own bunch of goblins."

"Maybe you're right, Buck. Maybe I have finally just gone crazy. I've been able to trust this for so long, I sort of miss not having it."

"If Vin can't find hide nor hair of them, there's just not hide nor hair to be found. You always said yourself he could find ice in the Sahara.

"Look, give it today. Give it today... we've got to find them. It's my family, Buck. It's Adam and it's Terry. I promised Terry I'd give this up, but I've got until five today before I have to do it for real. Get Vin... give it one more hunt."

"Just humor you?"

"Just help me... just help me make sure they're safe."

"I don't know what I thought we could do in five hours that you haven't done in days. I'm sorry, Vin, I think you boys are right. I think I've just finally gone completely crazy."

"Look, Chris, you just head home. You've just pushed yourself over one too many hills since those bombs went off. And don't give Terry a hard time. I don't think this is so much that she wants to stop your working, she just needs you. I've watched her since that little party up in Four Corners. She don't ever get used to just about losing you, but seeing that boy shot dang near destroyed her. She doesn't let you see it. When it's bad, the only thing she lets you see is the anger. She's afraid anything more will get you distracted. Shoot, she likes to act just as tough as you do, but she can sort of let the guard down around me. Knows I won't fault her for nothing, least of all for being a hard working woman and a mother. Buck and I will keep looking. If we find anything, anything at all, we'll come to get you. For now, you just go be with Terry and Adam. That's your most important job right now."

"Vin, you will won't you? You will let me hear?"

"Don't be a bad boy, now... Keep your word... go home."

Chapter 20

He needed the break. Through the next two whole nights, he would allow himself to have absolutely no plans. Not one thing he had to do... not unless they wanted it. While Terry fixed the stir fry, he fired up the computer... his computer... not one thing in it connected him to Terry or Adam. He hadn't just surfed in a long time

With the house so quiet, even from the kitchen she heard the beep, heard the chimes that signaled start up, then heard the modem dialing. She came and stood in the open doorway to his office. When he realized she was there, he looked up and smiled his sheepish little bad boy grin. She just shook her head, "Are you working again, already? You promised at least two days." She walked across to look over his shoulder at the screen.

"No, not working... just surfing a little. Checking out..."

"People files, I bet... Patsy and Cynthia?"

"No... no... just looking..." He suddenly let a more wicked little smile light up his face, and he grabbed her and pulled her around and onto his lap, turning her back to the screen.

"Just looking at what?"

"Porn sites." He fibbed and grinned and tilted his head up to her. He loved the mock-shock that showed on her face as she turned in time to watch his personalized sports page disappear from the screen. When she turned back and kissed him, he realized exactly how much he needed this... his home, and especially her.

"Don't you get any ideas..."

"I've already got the ideas... just looking for a little flame starter..."

"I've got your flame starter..." she raised her pencil thin skirt and straddled his lap with her long legs seeming to surrounding him. She tilted his head back and drew her fingers gently through his hair. Kissing him deeply and fully, a long kiss filled with all the love she held for him, she let her tongue explore his mouth. After so many years together, she still knew that the love was fully returned. She let her hands trace circles from his chest to his hard muscular stomach, feeling his ardor begin to stir.

"Um... ummmm... ummmmm... umph... somethings burning..."

"Is it you yet?"

"Um... I think I just might be" He kissed her again, holding her to him, resting his head against her, hating to spoil the moment, "ummmmmm ... but I think it might be Chinese, too.."

"OH, YOU!" She ran, hoping to catch the dinner before it ruined.

"Damn... oh, well... guess we'll just have to put this flame on hold for now..," but when he thought about her, he fervently hoped it wouldn't be for long. He stood and walked to his side office door, opening it to the patio at the rear of the rambling ranch style home. He left the door open to catch the coolness... he wouldn't be long. He stood in the deepening twilight and looked out toward the stables, watching the three horses graze.

"Okay, that settles it... tomorrow... a long ride, picnic, maybe another long ride." He smiled at the turn of phrase in the thought. With Adam back at school, tomorrow was going to be just as good as tonight. A nice little cigar would have made the planning perfect, but over a year before he had promised to be good about smoking even those, and he didn't want anything to spoil the mood. He went back inside, remembering to close the office door.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey yourself. Thought you had practice tonight."

"No... Coach had some report to do for the principal, so we got tonight off. Hey... want to go upstairs and play some pool?"

"Sure. Mom's got stir fry coming... at least I think it survived the fire we started. Let's eat... then we'll all play a few rounds... but not too late. Your Mom and I have got something to do later." The whole time he talked, Chris smiled a smile that Adam knew meant he was up to something. What, exactly, he didn't normally try to find out... his dad always just brushed it off. Tonight, he looked his son straight in the eye and raised his expressive eyebrows, the grin was devil-may-care and then some. For a minute Adam missed it... then he turned bright red... the tips of his ears went crimson. "Awh, Dad... too much information! Geez!"

His father just laughed as he put his arm around his son's shoulder and guided him into the kitchen. "Man's got to learn sometime. How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"If you don't know yet what real good love is all about, it's about time. Just about time." He slipped behind Terry, putting his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck. "How long have we got?"

"Not long enough." She realized that her son was in the room, and blushed just as brightly as he had before. "YOU! You're just in a real rare mood tonight, aren't you?"

"Not so rare... we just haven't had time to play in a long, long time. All peck on the cheek and run... sorry to say. Have we got at least thirty minutes before dinner's ready?"

"Yeah... it was the brown rice that burned, so it'll take about forty-five minutes to get done."

"Well, Adam wants to play pool after dinner, so I thought I'd help him finish the stable before we eat... not too much to do, shouldn't take long."

"Fine. Don't get sidetracked by that basketball hoop. I don't want to start this again."

He reached into the refrigerator and extracted one bottle of beer, then the two men headed outside, taking the short cut through the dining room doors. They passed the hoop at the end of the patio. "Game of twenty-one... come on, Dad... just one?"

"You want me to give her a reason to really get mad at me tonight? Tonight? I just don't think I'm willing to do that right now... not even for my favorite son. I'm studying on being a really good boy, all night long. One and a half barn stalls each, then clean up for dinner, eat quick, then a game of pool... one game, just one... then you go to bed."

"But just one game..."

"No. No..no..no... no... N-O! I'm not going anywhere... it'll wait. And remember, you're going to bed early."

"I haven't gone to bed early since I was three!"

"I suggest you give it a try once in a while. Barn... move."

The job was easy, or at least the conversation made it disappear that quickly. The boy kept the place in good enough shape anyway. They were reasonable about how spotless it should be for the night, but left the horses well provided for.

"Twenty-five minutes. Not bad." Chris stood on the patio, looking toward the barn. It was past dark now, and the blinking of the fireflies added another touch of peace to his revelry. The last of the beer taste just find, even if it had gotten a little warm.

"Dad, can I have a beer?"

"No."

"Just one."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"In about what... two months? Well... even seventeen isn't eighteen... and eighteen isn't close to twenty-one. You've always been able to control yourself about stuff like this, and I'm not going to be the one to tell you that breaking the law is okay. Tell you what... I'll buy you what I hope will be your very first beer on your twenty-first birthday... I'll join you for one. It's a promise."

"If we both have beer, who'll drive?

"Planning that far ahead? Who do you think... your Mom will drive. She hates beer anyway, and after I've had even one... I won't be driving. Get the point?"

"Yeah. Can I at least have your name?"

So serious. So quiet. It caught the man with such surprise and emotional force, it took a moment to recover and answer. "Any minute you want it. You've always had it anyway."

The moment was gone. "Dad? What's that light over there?"

"Noticed it a few minutes ago myself. Don't know... probably Bennett looking for a stray."

"Reckon he'll ever learn how to repair a fence?"

"Not if he don't know after all these years. Well, glad it's him, not me, out there tonight. I'm in a real lazy mood. Let's eat... we've got a date with pool... and then I've got a date with your Mom."

"Don't remind me... Geez, Dad!"

His father laughed again, then the two of them walked through the patio doors to see how dinner was coming.

Chapter 21

Oh, he had been a very good boy all night long. The date must have set a few records for endurance for the old man and his old lady. This day had been just exactly as he had planned it. A long, leisurely brunch... she even fed him the homemade pancakes he had made with a tiny drizzle of real maple syrup and two pats of honest to goodness butter. He loved it, and she told him that he certainly deserved it. He fixed the picnic lunch while she began to saddle the horses. They left before noon, making a quick retreat through the dining room. They didn't come back until very late, coming into the kitchen through her office, amidst laughter and silliness that belonged to them alone.

"I thought we were going out to dinner and a movie?"

"We are. Keep your britches on. Give us a little time to freshen up and we're set." He dropped his wife's hand, but not before he pulled her close for one last lingering kiss.

"Call me then, I'll be in the game room... but hurry, I'm hungry."

"I'll be done when I am done, gentlemen. You just get ready and wait. I don't get to have a day like this too often, and I intend to look more than just presentable tonight."

Their son departed for upstairs, glad to escape their presence and all the mush. "I can't believe he's getting embarrassed about this."

"Well, he'll just have to get over it. Won't take long... he's good Larabee stock."

"Chris, you want first shower? I'm ready for a nice warm bubble bath, so I'll take the tub for myself... unless you want to join me."

"I'll just use the guest bath... give you a little bit of privacy. If I watch you too much in that bubble bath, we might just have to pretend we're down in the brook again. Then we'll never get that boy his dinner."

"Promises... promises. Well, there's always later, unless you're going to work really early tomorrow."

"You reckon those other bosses will get upset if I declare myself another little holiday... not go back in until Monday?"

His reward was the pure joy he saw in her eyes. "Really?! Four whole days? In a row?"

"Yeah... I didn't realize how long I've gone without a break... and I need a break... and you. You think Nathan will pitch a fit?"

"Yes... but let him. I need you too."

He turned her around and pushed her toward the master bath, giving her a firm, loving swat on her shapely bottom. "You better get started. I'm gonna just go outside for a few minutes... I'll be ready before you are... no rush."

"How gallant... then I'll see you when I see you."

He trailed her through the house, then ambled off through his office, and out into the night air. He left the door open. It was such a pleasant evening. He laughed... Bennett was out there again searching for lost beeves. He felt more like himself than he had since the bombs went off. "Shoot... Shouldn't have thought about that." He sat in one of the chairs and watched the fireflies and listened to the crickets, frogs, and other night creatures that joined in the serenade.

"If I had known what was coming, I wouldn't have stayed the night in Mexico. I'd have found a way to get them. I would have changed the game."

He shook his head, trying to clear it.

"No man ought to lose his own like that. It takes a man's soul."

"Chris?" He heard absolutely nothing. Then...

"I'd have gotten them out of that house. Shouldn't happen, especially to the Larabees, ever again."

"Chris?" But there was nothing. Except a fear that suddenly gripped his gut. He ran into his office and locked the door. He retrieved two handguns and ammunition clips from the locked cabinet, then crossed into the bedroom, and then into the bath. "Would you do something for me?"

"Of course I would... what..." She turned with a smile until she saw his face and a gun in his hands.

"No... do something for me... right now... no questions... just because I ask you to?"

She realized how pale he was. The fear was something she could almost touch. She saw the need to be believed and trusted in his eyes. "What? What is it?"

"I want you to just get dressed... jeans, sweatshirt... fast... get Adam and get ready to leave here. "

"But..."

"Please. There's no time. No questions. Just get ready. I'm going to make a cell call, then we have to go. Don't touch any of the other phones. Just get dressed."

"I don't understand. What's wrong."

"No time... later... please, Terry, please... trust me. Be ready, you and Adam, in five. " He went to the foot of the stairs that led to the game room, "Adam! Come down here."

"In just a minute, Dad."

"ADAM!... NOW! MOVE!"

The boy's footsteps echoed on the stairs. "No need to get mad... What did I do?"

"I'm not mad... just go to your Mom's room and wait there. I've got to make one phone call and then we're leaving."

"Thought Mom was taking a bath..."

"Adam... Later... Just MOVE! Just MOVE, son... Go."

He stepped into the great room again, and punched a speed number, "Vin, come! Get Buck! MOVE! Bring the sheriff and the paramedics. My house... I don't know... everything's too quiet... lights that shouldn't be out there. I don't know... DAMN IT, VIN... I DON'T KNOW. GET BUCK. COME. HELL, VIN, JUST HUMOR ME." The voice signed off without a word. Vin had gone to work. He returned to where his family waited.

"Chris... what is this? Are you okay?"

"Just do it, Terry... come on, just do this."

"All right... calm down. What do you want us to do?"

"Front door... not patio... out the front."

He pulled them behind him, frantic in his need to get them away. He reached for the handle of the door.

"NO! NO!"

He suddenly snatched his hand away from the door knob as if it were flaming hot. His head seemed to explode, knocking him to his knees as tears streamed down his face. He was violently ill. "No! Stop it! Calm down... just calm down. I can't do anything with you like this."

"I'm not calm, but I'm not hysterical either. What's wrong with you?!" Terry reached out to bring him to his feet.

The pain receded, and he was able to think. "Have either of you opened any exterior door beside the kitchen one since we all came home?"

"Well... I opened the front door to go get the mail."

"And I parked the car in the garage when I got home from school... does the utility room door to the garage count?"

"Yes, they all count... I opened the doors between the great room and the patio, and the door between my office and the patio. "

"I opened my office door when we came in."

"And when I went to clean the stalls tonight, I went through the dining room."

"Damn."

"What is this?"

"Don't anybody touch any of the doors."

"Chris?"

"I'm not crazy... at least I hope I'm not... but I think this house is wired.."

"Wired? You mean a bomb? How... we've been here all day."

"No... Adam was at school. You and I were out riding most of the time."

"But we opened all the doors moving around. Wouldn't something have happened then?"

"Not if they're wired like my car was wired. That thing didn't go off the first time, but the second time I opened that door... it only took a few seconds to tear that thing to shreds. And if all these are connected to the same detonator, or a connected series of detonators... this whole place will go. Don't anybody for any reason touch any door in this house, and I don't think I should raise any windows either, or use the phones."

"How do we get out?"

"I'm thinking. I wish I had my tool kit from the car, but we can't risk touching the garage door."

"Here. You can just take these right now." Terry seemed angry and confused. She yanked off her wedding rings and held them in front of her husband.

"You're deciding, at this moment, to leave me? I know what I've promised you, and this is a hell of a mess, but I didn't think..."

"No! Why would I leave you? Use the diamond."

"What?"

"Won't a diamond like mine cut glass?"

"Yes?"

"Cut the panel in the front door. Cut out the design... we can fit through that. Do you think that's safe? Will it work?"

He stopped, deep in thought. "Should work. They wouldn't wire the glass, just something that would trip the detonator... hinge, frame. It won't cut all the way through, but it should etch it deep enough. Terry Larabee, I love you!"

As he began to cut the glass, he began to give them instructions. "Adam, while I'm working on this, you turn off all the lights except one in the kitchen. Go into my office and watch the barn... don't let anyone see you... just see if you notice anybody moving around. Call out if you do. When we go through the opening, I want you both to stay low and head to that patch of woods over to the right. Get in a dense clump of something and stay there, but watch for any movement... you might have to move fast."

"What about you, Dad? Aren't you going too?"

"Not for a while. I need to check things out... see where they are."

"Where who are?" She wanted to understand... but it didn't make sense.

"Cynthia and Patsy."

"You think they're here? Why?"

"Two lights out past the barn... shouldn't be there. Yesterday was Bennett, but not tonight. Bennett never hunts for cattle this late... he'd just leave them until tomorrow. Everything got real quiet all of a sudden... crickets, frogs, the whole planet seems to have just turned off the switch. Otherwise, it's just a feeling. Will you just humor me, one last time? ADAM! Anything?"

The boy was back..."Dad, there's one light moving out past the far side of the barn... coming toward the house by your office. I looked out the breakfast room window when I was turning on the light in there... there was a light out front out beyond the garage, too."

"Okay... we've got to move. Now, I think this is close enough to being through. When I hit it... you two run... I mean run like hell... don't look back, and don't stop for anything. Hide. Are you ready?"

"I don't care about the house. Why don't you go with us?"

"I don't matter in this. If I go with you, we're just one sitting bunch of ducks with two shooters coming straight for us all. Maybe if I'm here... and they'll know I'm here... they'll see us. When they see me stay, maybe they'll just come for me. I'm the one they want."

"Chris... I don't care..."

"Terry! Stop it. Don't argue... just do it! We haven't got time for anything else. You run... you take care of Adam. Nothing else matters to me but the two of you. Buck and Vin are coming. It'll be okay. And Adam..."

"Dad?" His son's eyes shone with fear, but there was a sense of purpose too.

"You've got a job. I'm putting this in your hands." He took one of the guns from his waistband and handed it to his son. "You've practiced with it before... you remember how it works?"

"Yes."

"If you have to... can you use it... even on a woman?"

"Yes." But his voice was low and his throat was parchment dry.

"You get your Mom safe. You stay with her. If it comes to it... you two are the ones who live... but especially your Mom... I think that's what you'd want too... do you understand?" He pulled his son to him, holding him close. "You know I love you? That I'm proud of you?"

"Yes, sir, I know. And, Dad, it's what I'd choose, too. We'll be okay."

"I can't stand this." Tears quietly began to slip down her cheeks.

He held her to him and kissed her. He reached down and took her hand in his. He looked at her seriously, as if his life depended on what she did next. "These belong here, don't they?" He slipped the rings back where he had placed them for keeps all those years ago. He smiled as she nodded, and kissed her one more time. "Okay... ready?" He slammed the butt of his pistol into the glass circle and led the way out of peril and into a new kind of danger.

He saw them move low and fast in the direction he had sent them. Then, crouching low himself, he moved toward the garage side of the house. But it didn't go as planned. He heard something crack... a dry branch cracking under someone's foot... behind him... back beyond the other corner of the house. Back toward his family. He whirled, intent on covering their escape, only to see a shadow move in their wake. He began to run.

Shots echoed from everywhere at once. Something sharp slammed into his back... then something else struck his chest... then another. He was on the ground without realizing he was there. Very far away he heard another gun speak twice, somewhere else a woman's piercing scream. Then there was just bedlam. "Wrong plan, Chris. Wrong plan." He whispered their names. "Terry? Adam?" He was very tired, so he closed his eyes and let the worries and regrets slip away.

"Come on Chris... stay with me. They're safe... you just stay with me."

"Nathan?" Pain. Lights... bright annoying lights. He didn't want to stay with this. It was easier to just let it all go. No more pain... hospital... too tired to do that again.

"Oh, Chris. Don't let go. They're coming now. I need you. I love you... Please stay."

Pain. Why was there something wet falling on his face. Tired... so tired.

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want..." Josiah's deep voice, nearby. Peaceful. Pain... too much pain. Tired.

"Stay with me Chris. You hear me..." Buck at his side.

"Can't sleep just yet, pard... hold on." Vin too.

Two voices. Safe. Tired.

"Both of 'em gone?"

"Yeah... just wouldn't go peaceful. Sheriff and his boys got 'em. They're checking the house now. I told 'em to stay away from the doors. " Buck and Vin. Working. So tired... so tired. Let is go.

"Mr. Larabee... it is most important that you remain a part of this team!" Ezra too? Tired.

"You gonna just give up."

"Tired, Chris. So damned tired."

"Easy to be tired. Harder to hold on and do it right."

"Won't make any difference. I don't count in this. They count."

"Stupid plan, cowboy. Any easier for them if you give up?"

"Chris... listen to me... Chris... don't leave... we need you." Her voice cracked. Not so tough this time.

"Dad? Dad? You promised... remember... my first beer... twenty-first birthday. You promised. If you give up, now... I won't wait... I won't wait a week... Damn it, Dad... you hear me... You've got to hold on!"

"You telling me you'd give up on two like that? On all the ones you've got?"

"Tired, Chris. I'm tired."

"Hell. So what? You've been tired before, Cowboy... you'll be tired again. But those... they're all worth the fight. Worth all the effort, all the pain, and all the trouble. Well, ain't they?"

"Expect they are. And don't call me a cowboy."

"Then, just shut up and finish it."

"Terry... we've got him stable as we can... we've got to move."

"Chris, Nathan's got you... the ambulance is ready. Don't you let go... you hear me... hang on... DON'T YOU LET GO." She kissed him.

"Worth the effort again?"

"Yeah. Anything they want."

"Dad, Dad... come on Dad... don't give up now."

He struggled to open his eyes for just a small little look. So many people standing close by, waiting for him. He knew the hard work would come later, but he looked one time at the ones he knew waited for him to get it started. Then he focused on the two that mattered the most.

"I'm fine... just fine." Tired... but not too tired. Work to do.

"Oh, you look like you're just fine!"

"Help me... finish this?"

"Yes... I'll be right here."

He closed his eyes, then opened them again, looking up into the glistening eyes of his son, "Lots more work. Judge... Names... All same names... Tomorrow. Okay? Twenty-one..," he whispered. "all... got a date. Go to ... this much trouble... better be... your first."

THE END