Inn of Lost Souls by Winnie

A scream shattered the silence as the old Victorian Manor shook right down to its foundations. The wind howled through broken panes of glass and barely hanging shutters, screeching through the interior as horrific screams echoed through the dying wood. The walls expanded and collapsed as death came to the inhabitants who'd laughed and danced throughout the evening hours. Now as the hour of midnight grew closer that laughter was turned into terrified cries of pain and rage as a shadow grew to encompass the living structure. The walls pulsated as a crimson fluid ran from the spiral staircase and into the main room, drowning any who remained alive within its domain. Demons roared their anger at having their blood feast cut short by the escape of one soul.

A soul that should have been theirs, by right, by desire, but the fight had been lost and now they would have to wait for that soul, or another dark soul to journey within their walls once more. A banshee like wail emanated from the very bowels of the only room that remained alive, a cry that only blood could silence, but that blood would not come until the time was ripe and a new harvest began.

As silence once more took over and the walls continued to fold in upon themselves the faded sign swung on its hinges, crying out its name:

The Inn Of Lost Souls.

The town of Four Corners was a welcome sight to the two weary peacekeepers. However, not as welcome as the sight of the saloon at the center of town. By unspoken agreement they aimed Peso and Pony for the livery and turned them over to Yosemite. The liveryman would care for the horses as if they were his own.

Larabee and Tanner thanked the man and turned towards the drinking establishment they frequented with their friends. Chris thought about their first meeting and how many times they'd made this same walk since then. The sharpshooter had quickly become more than just a friend and he was grateful for the quiet man's company. He stretched the kinks out of his back and strode towards the saloon, knowing the younger man was right beside him. Home, he thought and didn't flinch at the idea.

Vin knew where they were headed without asking and smiled at the thought of the first drink they'd had in days. He caught sight of the gunslinger out of the corner of his eyes and didn't miss the sigh that escaped the older man's throat. Vin felt it too; this town had become something more than just a stopping off point in his own journey. Four Corners was a place where he had friends, six friends who protected his back the same way he did theirs. Home, he thought as they stepped through the batwing doors into the familiar surroundings.

They spotted three familiar forms at the back of the saloon and headed straight for the table, not surprised to find two glasses of whiskey poured and waiting for them.

Chris sank onto the hardwood chair and lifted the glass. He tipped it to dust covered lips and sighed contentedly as the fiery liquid burned a trail down the back of his throat. "Thanks, Boys," he said as he watched his traveling companion do the same thing. "How are things around town?"

"Quiet, has been for a few days now," Sanchez explained.

"Long trip?" Jackson asked as he took in the haggard faces of the two men. He knew his two friends needed to wind down after the last three hectic weeks. It began chasing bank robbers, joining a posse, and then delivering the two prisoners to the authorities at Yuma prison. The telegram arrived a few days after they'd left and the healer worried whether the two men would come back in one piece. Although they looked worn out, the former slave was pleased there were no new holes that needed tending. Also, no broken bones in need of setting; in fact, he was pleased by their return and seeming good health.

"Yeah," the tracker answered simply.

"Where're Ezra and Buck?" Larabee asked.

"They went to Jasper, Chris," Dunne answered as he refilled the empty glasses.

"Jasper?" Tanner drawled. "I can see why Buck'd go ta Jasper what with all them so called loose women, but what the hell's there for Ezra?"

"They're having a poker tournament there and we all know Ezra Standish and his penchant for gambling," Sanchez told them.

"Yeah, he does like a good game of cards," Larabee agreed and looked sideways at the tracker and wasn't surprised to see a mischievous twinkle in the sparkling blue eyes. "Wanna have some fun?"

"Hell, I like that," Tanner said of the devilish light in the green eyes, an evil grin on his face as he dropped the shot glass back on the table and stood up.

"Where are you two goin' now?" the healer asked as he watched Larabee stand beside the smiling tracker.

Larabee and Tanner looked at each other and then rested their gazes on the former stretcher-bearer as they answered in unison. "Jasper."

"Jasper. That's a good day's ride north of here and you two just got back! You need to rest!" Jackson blustered.

"Northwest of here," Tanner corrected. "We're not leavin' right now, Nathan, jest gonna get some sleep..."

"And leave at first light," Larabee finished for him. "I'm sure you boys can handle things around here for a few more days. Right JD?"

"Yeah, ain't much ta do except help clear the damn tumbleweeds from in front of Mrs. Potter's store," the young easterner answered. "I swear she stacks 'em there just ta give me somethin' ta do."

"She's just trying to keep you out of trouble, Son," the ex-preacher said with a grin.

"I don't get into trouble..."

"I ain't touchin' that one," Tanner said. "We'll see ya boys in about a week, depending on how much of Ezra's winnin's we can get him ta spend."

"And whether he's already used it up bailing Buck outta jail for lewd behavior," Larabee said. "Stay out of trouble, Kid," Larabee said as he headed for the doors, the sharpshooter beside him.

"Hey!" Dunne called indignantly. "Ain't no kid and I don't get in trouble." He frowned as the two men at the table joined the other two in laughter at his expense. He knew they were teasing and finally lost the fight to look mad as is own boisterous chuckle joined theirs. "It ain't funny," he tried again.

"Sure it is, JD," Jackson said as the three men stood up to leave.

Chris Larabee looked sideways at his traveling companion and smiled as the shaggy head turned his way. The two men were on their way to Jasper on the trail of Buck Wilmington and Ezra Standish. They'd returned to Four Corners the day before to find out the pair were headed to a poker tournament. Both men knew Standish was probably engrossed in the tables already, but Wilmington was probably testing the so called massage parlor the desert town was famous for.

"How're ya doin' Chris? Ya need ta rest those old bones of yers," the sharpshooter teased.

"Ain't much older than you, Tanner. My bones are doing just fine," Larabee told him and the two men lapsed into the comfortable silence they'd grown accustomed to. As they rode, sipping cautiously from their canteens, the leader looked forward to the upcoming water stop. They timed it so the stage depot would provide a brief respite from the intense heat.

The two peacekeepers dismounted and walked to the watering trough, allowing Pony and Peso to drink. Both men took in the surroundings and the stagecoach that was stopped in front of the single dwelling. The driver was talking to two women and was pointing to the wheel.

"Howdy, fellas," a grizzled old man stepped out of the small building and walked towards them. "What can I do fer ya?"

"Jest passin' through," Tanner told him.

"Where ya headin' fer, Jasper or Farmington?"

"Jasper," Larabee said simply, knowing those were the only possibilities in this direction.

The old man laughed as he smacked his hands on his knees. "Ya gonna try yer skills at the gamblin' or are ya takin' some talent upstairs?" he asked, eyebrows shifting up and down as his laughter turned into a harsh cough. "Damn sand's always makin' me choke!" he swore as he looked at the two men. "So which is it?" He watched the two strangers and instantly realized they would not be giving him an answer. "Hell, ain't pryin' inta yer affairs, Boys, just always been a man with too much time on my hands and I ain't got the sense ta keep my yap shut! Go on inside and grab yerself somethin' ta eat if'n yer hungry."

The gunslinger looked at the older man and answer. "Thanks..."

"Grady."

"Grady, we're not hungry, but I'd appreciate a chance to fill our canteens before we move on," Larabee said as Tanner flipped the reins over the hitching posts.

"Yer more'n welcome ta fill 'em up, Boys. I got me some things ta do fer Tom before he leaves fer Farmington so just let me know if'n I can help ya with anythin'."

"We will. I'm gonna see what kind've supplies they got, Chris," Tanner said as he walked towards the office. He stepped inside and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. A lone man sat at the table and the shrewd tracker kept his eyes diverted as he studied the stranger. There was something about the way he sat with his back to the wall and his eyes shifting back and forth from the door to the tracker. Vin moved to the counter, but kept watching the other patron as the man stood up and walked out of the room. He knew the type and wondered if this man had a price on his head.

Chris watched as a man exited the building and walked towards the stagecoach. Something about him didn't set right with the gunslinger and he leaned heavily against the hitching post as he watched the man's movements. The newcomer stood approximately six feet tall and red hair stuck out from underneath a wide brimmed hat. The man stopped halfway to the stage and turned to face him, but Chris didn't look away from the heated glare.

"If'n yer comin' ya'd best climb aboard now," the driver of the stage called.

Chris watched the man for a few minutes and knew there was something about him he didn't like. His instincts had saved his life many times and he knew when to listen to them.

Grady waited for the newcomer to climb into the stage before he closed the door. "All right, Tom, they're all yers!"

"Thanks, Grady, see ya in a couple of weeks."

"Just make sure ya don't ferget that bottle of whiskey ya owe me."

"Ain't much chance of that what with you puttin' that paper in my pocket. Watch yerself out 'ere."

"Always do, Tom," Grady said as he moved back and watched the stage pull out of the yard. He turned towards the man standing beside the horses. "Ya sure I cain't int'rest ya in a bowl of stew. May not be the best tastin', but it's fresh and hot."

Chris knew the old man led a lonely life in the middle of the badlands and felt sorry for his earlier refusal. He looked up to see the tracker standing in the doorway and smiled at the almost imperceptible nod of the shaggy head. "Well, now, Grady, you just said the magic words. Hey, Vin, looks like we'll be eating here instead of on the trail."

"Ain't gonna argue with that, Pard. Hell, it'll be good ta eat somethin' that ain't charred," Tanner said as he turned his gaze on Larabee.

"It wouldn't be charred if you cooked it yourself, Tanner."

"Come on you two before we end up eatin' charred stew," Grady told them, a smile on his face as he remembered an old friend he treated the same way.

Thirty minutes later, their stomachs full, their thirst sated the two men mounted up and thanked the stationmaster before following the trail north. Without realizing it both men were thinking about the man at the depot and the stage he was riding in.

Vin turned towards his riding companion and wasn't surprised to see Larabee looking at him. "Did ya see that fella at the depot?"

"Yeah, hard to miss him. He didn't look like the trustworthy type."

"I was just thinkin' the same thing. Think maybe we outta go after the stage and maybe ride along with them fer a while?"

"Yeah, I was kind've thinking the same thing. Grady said it was headed for Farmington, right?"

"Yeah," Tanner said and the two men picked up the pace in order to catch the stage.

They rode for approximately twenty minutes when Chris suddenly pulled Pony to a stop. Vin instinctively pulled Peso up beside him and watched as Larabee dismounted.

"What's wrong?"

Larabee lifted the gelding's right foot and frowned. "Looks like he's picked up a stone."

"Damn!" Tanner swore, his instincts telling him they needed to hurry. There was something niggling at the back of his mind and he knew it had to do with the stagecoach.

"It won't take me long to get it out, Vin, but I think you'd better get after that wagon."

"Ya feel it too?"

"Yeah, something about that man just doesn't set right."

"Ya sure yer okay?"

"Vin, I've dug stones out before," Larabee said in exasperation. "You need to get moving before it's too late. I won't be far behind you."

"Alright," Tanner agreed as he turned away.

Larabee looked up as the tracker eased Peso forward. "Vin," he called and waited for the shaggy head to turn his way. "Watch your back."

Tanner smiled at the concern on Larabee's face. "Thought that was yer job, Cowboy," he said as he raced away.

Chris stood for a few moments watching his friend ride northwards and silently prayed they were wrong about the man who boarded the stage at the depot. He turned his attention back to Pony and removing the tiny stone that had jammed itself in the shoe.

Help us!

Chris' head snapped up as a soft breeze floated over him, tickling at his spine, and raising the hair on the back of his neck. He was sure he'd heard a tiny voice whispered on the breeze. "Is somebody there?" he asked and looked around at the wide-open expanse of desert. He glanced towards the northeast as a shiver of dread ran through his body. Vin, he thought and finished the job at hand before mounting Pony. He knew only fifteen minutes had passed since Pony had come up lame, but something told him he was already too late. He rode hard, unaware of the sands of time whipping into a frenzy around the area he'd just vacated.

Vin pushed Pony harder than he normally would have, knowing in his heart he was already too late. He spotted the stagecoach ahead of him, shimmering in the heat from the brilliant orb overhead. He heard screams as he raced towards the scene and again picked up the pace. He saw the man with the red hair dragging something towards a low clump of scrub brush and hurriedly dismounted beside the stage. He spotted a young girl huddled in the far corner of the stage, her hands clenched tightly in front of her mouth as scream after scream left her throat. The driver's body hung over the side of the coach, blood dripping from his hair and the fingertips of his right hand.

"Are ya okay, Miss?" the tracker asked as he placed a foot inside the stage. He guessed the child's age to be around eight or nine and he tried not to scare her more than she already was.

"Pl...ease," the young girl cried as she bit the knuckles of her left hand. "Help Aunt Fran...he t...took her."

Tanner remembered seeing the man dragging something towards the brush and he nodded to the girl. "Stay put!" he warned as he raced towards the brush just as a blood-curdling scream erupted from behind them.

Chris could see the stagecoach in the distance and knew his and Tanner's instincts were right. Pony's leg was fine and the steadfast animal heeded his rider's instructions. The gelding's long legs ate up the hard packed earth in an effort to reach their destination as quickly as possible.

Vin pushed aside the brush in time to see the red-haired man bury a long blade between the woman's exposed breasts. "NO!" he screamed as he used his body as a missile and tackled the man.

Vin fell in a heap, just to the right of the woman and grunted as pain flared in his back. He ignored the signs of injury as he felt someone move beside him. He climbed to his feet just as the attacker made it to his own, the weapon he'd used on the woman held in front of him.

"Ya bastard, ya'll pay fer that!" the man snarled as he whipped the knife from one hand to the other.

The tracker glared at the murderer and knew he'd need to keep his wits about him. The man didn't seem very skilled, but the blade in his hand gave him the upper hand.

"What's the matter, halfbreed?" he hissed as he saw his foe's long hair. "Ya afraid of ol' Jim. Ya'd better be cause I's plannin' on taking me some breed scalp!"

Vin shifted to the left as his nemesis slashed the blade towards him, barely avoiding the razor sharp instrument. But the sharp turn twisted his back even more. He winced as he righted himself and knew the other man had seen it.

"Hurt are ya? Well this here's gonna hurt even worse when I sink it into yer gut," he slashed again, and smiled as he saw a thin line of blood on his enemy's left arm. "Gonna leave ya ta bleed all over the ground while I take me pleasure on the other young lady..."

"Ya fuckin' animal," the tracker hissed as his anger over the man's words grew to the boiling point. He let his instincts take over and used everything he'd learned from the Comanche to bring him down.

Chris dismounted in front of the stage, the smell of blood assaulting his senses as he spotted the dead driver. "Vin!" he shouted as he looked into the coach. Goddammit! he thought as he saw the terrified child. "Miss, I'm gonna help you. Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice soft and calm as he tried to get through to the sobbing girl.

The girl moved away from him, curling up in the seat in an effort to get away from the newcomer. "N...NO!" she screamed and struck out at him, her small hands flailing as she tried to escape.

Chris knew Vin could handle himself, and that the child needed to be taken care of before he could search for his friend. Larabee climbed into the stage and reached for her hands. She flinched away and he knew he had to be careful of the traumatized victim. Her eyes were opened to complete circles, yet he knew they were not seeing him.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. My name's Chris. What's yours?"

Again she tried to hit him, harsh sobs escaping her parched throat as she struck out at whatever horror she was seeing. He reached behind him for the canteen sitting on the seat and opened it. He smelled the contents and was relieved that it held only water and he took a small sip. He saw her terrified eyes flick between him and the canteen and held it out to her.

"Would you like some?"

He wasn't surprised when it was snatched from his hands and the child drank greedily. Her eyes never wavered from his face as her arms dropped down to her sides and more cries erupted from the small body. Chris reached out and took her hands as the canteen dropped to the floor.

"Are you hurt?" he asked as he looked over her shaking form.

Mindy's eyes glazed over as her horrific experience replayed before her.

"NO! Au...Aunt Fran...No! No! Do...don't take my aunty...don't hurt her...No!" her screams turned into soft sobs as she tried to shut out everything she'd seen, but her wayward arms continued to strike out at anything within reach.

The gunslinger knew who the girl meant and he looked at her as he reached for her hands once more. "You can trust me, Honey, I won't hurt you. Okay?"

Something about the soft tones and the warm eyes told the child she had nothing to fear from this man.

"O...kay," she sniffed, her shoulder rising and falling with each terrified breath.

"What's your name?"

"M...Mindy Lawrence," she said and began sobbing harder. "Please, help A...Aunt Fran, he's g...gonna h...hurt her b...bad. Said he w...was going to c...come get m...me when he was d...done!"

Larabee flinched as another scream erupted and pulled her close, feeling the horrific tremors that ran through her body. He ran his hands through her soft brown hair and held her close.

"It'll be alright," he said and looked out the window towards the brush.

Chris ran his hands through her mousy brown hair and held her close. "It'll be alright," he said as he looked out the window towards the brush. He felt her go limp in his arms and checked her throat. He felt a pulse, a little fast, but there and he placed her back on the seat. He knew she'd be safe until he returned and he hurried to make sure the horses pulling the coach would not be able to take off. He secured them to a thick dead branch and raced towards the sound of a scuffle behind the brush.

Vin circled the man, his back getting worse as he moved to avoid the blade. He knew his enemy was weakening and frustrated in spite of the knife in his hand. Vin continued to avoid the slashing blade and inflict a punch here or a kick there and the man snarled as he lashed out once more. The fight was going the way the sharpshooter wanted in spite of the pain shooting through his back.

James Clark was tiring, but he knew to give in would mean a trip to the gallows and he wasn't going to give in willingly. He slashed sideways with the knife, not really expecting to hit anything, but surprised as his enemy lost his balance and fell backwards over a dead branch. Before the younger man had a chance to react he pounced, landing heavily on the tracker, straddling him and lifting the blade over the dazed man.

"See ya in 'ell!" he screamed as he lifted the blade over his head.

Chris Larabee's blood ran cold as he heard the unfamiliar voice scream See ya in 'ell. He knew instinctively Vin Tanner was in trouble as he parted the brush and moved into the clearing. His eyes quickly took in the body of the woman and the life and death struggle going on a few feet from where he stood.

"Vin!" he shouted as he saw the knife poised over the exposed throat of his best friend. The black clad man proved why he had a reputation as a deadly accurate gunslinger as he pulled his colt.

Clark's blade began its descending arc.

Larabee's gun cleared leather and Chris realized he couldn't get a clear shot of the man's body for fear of hitting the struggling sharpshooter.

The sun glinted off the razor sharp weapon.

A steady hand rose and aimed the gun at the hand wielding the knife.

The knife raced towards the vulnerable throat.

Larabee's finger depressed the trigger and Clark screamed as a bullet struck the blade and knocked the knife from his hands. He scrambled towards the weapon, but the gunslinger's icy voice stopped him where he knelt. "You'll be dead before your finger touches it!" he snarled.

James Clark stared at the man dressed in dark clothing and felt fear take up residence in his body. He knew this man was not the type to give idle threats and he sank back to the ground. He wasn't a smart man, but he knew he needed to find a way out of the mess he was now in.

"H...he attacked me. I found 'im murderin' that w...woman!" he stammered.

"That right?" Larabee asked as he watched his friend's eyes finally focus.

"Ye...yeah...said he's gonna kill that other one too," he said, hoping he could convince the newcomer he was telling the truth, but the gunslinger's next words quickly dashed those hopes.

"That right, Vin. Did you attack this asshole?"

"Fuckin' right I at...attacked the b...bastard!" Tanner's voice was laced with pain as Larabee knelt beside him.

"Think you can keep him covered for a few minutes."

"...like lickin' butter offa knife!" he said accepting the gun.

Larabee looked at the man seated on the ground and smiled as he saw the thin rope that was holding up the man's ruined pants. "Take off your belt!" he ordered.

"Wh...wha' fer?"

"Vin!"

Tanner smiled as he eased back on the trigger.

"O...okay," Clark held his hands up before undoing his belt and pulling it from his pants.

"Throw it over here," the gunslinger ordered and smiled as the object dropped beside him. "Now turn around." The man did as he was told and Larabee pulled the arms roughly behind his back and wrapped the rope tightly around his wrists.

"Hey yer cuttin' off my circulation!"

"That's the least of your worries," the gunslinger hissed as he shoved the man back to the ground. "They'll be cuttin off the circulation to your head as soon as your trial is over. Now shut up before I gag you too."

Clark grew quiet and swallowed painfully, as he realized the black clad man was right.

He walked back to the sharpshooter and realized he was still lying where he'd been when he handed him the gun. "You okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Jest fine!" the sharpshooter hissed, frustrated that he'd been unable to subdue Clark.

"Want a hand up?"

Blue eyes flashed dangerously as they met green and Tanner's frustration came out in the tone of his voice and the heated words.

"Said I's fine, Lar'bee!'

Chris raised his hands in front of himself, his own short temper showing as he hissed "Fine! Suit yourself!" He took his gun from Tanner's hand and covered Clark as he waited for his friend to make it to his feet. He smiled as he listened to the muffled curses from his friend.

"Lie down on your belly and don't move!" Larabee ordered and Clark quickly complied. He turned back to his friend, crossed his arms on his chest, and smiled at the look on the dust-covered face.

"Shut the hell up, Larabee!" the tracker hissed as he raised his arm for help.

The gunslinger's eyebrows rose in amusement as he looked at his friend. He knew Tanner wasn't seriously hurt, but he could see pain in the eyes, yet the sharpshooter hated admitting he needed help. Larabee also knew they needed to keep things light or what they'd witnessed would fester and Clark might not make it to Farmington.

"Are you asking for my help, Tanner?"

Vin searched the area, but didn't see anything that might help him stand and finally glared up at his friend. "'Dammit t'hell, lar'bee..."

The blond grinned from ear to ear as he reached for the injured man's arm. "All you had to do was ask," he said.

"Never needed any fuckin' help b'fore," he snarled as he rubbed at his lower back.

"Must be getting old," Larabee said and again received a deadly glare from the younger man. "Are you okay?" The gunslinger asked as he took Tanner's bandana and wrapped it around the shallow wound in his arm.

"I'm f...fine," the tracker answered, knowing the question wasn't in jest this time. He turned towards the woman and asked. "Is she..."

Larabee walked over and checked the woman's body. He knew she was dead as he looked into unseeing eyes. Why? he asked as he closed the lids and removed his duster, covering her upper body with it before returning to the sharpshooter. He looked towards the tracker and shook his head.

Tanner ignored the pain in his back as he strode towards the prone man. He grabbed the murderer by the neck and pulled him to his feet. "I oughta show ya the way a Comanche takes care of people who hurt women and children!" He struck the hated figure in the face and watched as he dropped to the ground. He felt a hand on his arm and looked into the green eyes of his best friend.

"The bastard will pay for what he's done, Vin," Larabee insisted.

"The girl?" Tanner asked.

"She's okay. A little shook up, but she said he never touched her."

"Good thing," Tanner said and turned back to the prisoner. "'Cause if ya had I woulda cut off yer balls and shoved 'em down yer fuckin' throat!"

"Ya cain't do that..."

"Wanna bet?" Larabee asked. "Shut up or I'll give him the knife and hold ya down for him!"

"But..." Clark shut up when the gunslinger reached for the knife lying on the ground.

"That's better," Tanner hissed. "Now get on yer feet!"

The three men made their way back to the stagecoach and made Clark sit behind it, in order to save the girl from seeing him.

Chris watched the sharpshooter's stiff movements and hoped Farmington had a doctor. The town was closer than Jasper and he knew it was the best bet for help. "Vin, I'm gonna check on the girl, before I bring the woman's body. "Are you okay to watch him?"

"Y...yeah. I'm fine, Chris. Jest make sure the girl stays put."

"I will," Larabee said. He moved towards the door of the stagecoach and stepped inside. He touched the still unconscious girl and waited to see if she would wake up. He stepped out of the coach and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"She's still out, Vin," he said as he reached for the blanket on top of the coach. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes." The shaggy head nodded once and Larabee frowned at the lines of pain on the younger man's face. Here," he said as he pulled the younger man's canteen from Peso's saddle and passed it to his friend. The gunslinger turned away, took Pony's reins, and led him towards the brush.

"Thanks," Tanner said as he kept watching the prisoner. He took off the cap and tipped it towards his mouth.

"Ain'tcha gonna gimme some?" Clark whined.

Vin looked at the man, disgust and anger on his face. "Jest sit there and shut up!" The tracker winced as he reached around and again rubbed at his lower back. The pain that had earlier been annoying was quickly becoming unbearable, but he could not show any weakness in front of this animal.

"Ain't no way ta treat a man..." Clark started, but a hand quickly snapped out and grabbed him by the collar.

"Yer not a man!" the sharpshooter's voice dripped venom as he glared at the murderer. "An' I might jest give ya a whole new meanin' fer the word breed! Ya got that?

"Yeah, yeah," Clark stammered as he was dropped heavily to the ground.

Vin stood over him for a few minutes, his eyes filled with deadly intent as his prisoner stayed down. He straightened his back once more and bit his lip as it caused a deep ripple of pain to course threw him. He had no idea how long he stood there, fighting back the encroaching darkness, but was shocked when he heard Larabee's voice close beside him. He turned to see a blanket covered body draped over Pony's saddle and shook his head at the violent loss of life.

The gunslinger couldn't help but see how pale his friend was and asked worriedly. "Vin, you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, just twisted my back a little," Tanner assured him.

"Well you just stay there while I get things ready. Faster we get to Farmington the faster that piece of dirt is in jail." And you get to see a doctor, he silently vowed.

"I can help ya..."

"Yeah, you can. By watching him and making sure he stays put!"

"Hey, he threatened me!" Clark whined.

"You're lucky that's all he did! Now shut the fuck up!" the gunslinger warned. "Think you can ride in the stage and keep an eye on him?"

"What about the girl and the driver?"

"Figure the girl can ride up top with me while you and that piece of trash ride inside. I can put the driver's body on Peso."

"Peso ain't gonna be happy!"

"I know, but there's no other way," he looked down at the prisoner. "Unless we tie him to the back of the stage and make him walk," Larabee's eyebrows rose as he looked at his friend.

"It'd slow us down!"

"Ya cain't do that!"

Larabee and Tanner looked heatedly down on him and hissed in unison.

"SHUT UP!"

"But..." his words were shut off as Larabee tore a strip off his shirt and shoved the material into Clark's mouth.

"Thanks, Chris, I was ready ta shoot the bastard!"

"Anytime. You gonna be all right for a few minutes?"

"Am now, ain't gotta listen to 'im spoutin' garbage anymore," Tanner said as he turned his attention back on the prisoner.

Larabee moved away from the two men, retrieved his canteen from Pony, and walked to the door of the stage. Mindy Lawrence was just waking up and he slid in beside her. He watched as deep brown eyes opened and looked pleadingly at him, tears forming in them and sliding down her cheeks.

"Aunt Fran?" she asked as she recognized the face before her.

Larabee shook his head and cradled her in his arms as the tears fell from her eyes and heavy sobs wracked her body. He held her until her body was still in his arms and lifted her chin until she looked at him.

"I'm sorry, Honey," he said as he saw the fear in her eyes. He held the canteen to her mouth and watched as she drank a couple of mouthfuls before pushing it away.

"Wh...where is he?"

"He can't hurt you anymore. My friend has him tied up outside and we'll take him to Farmington."

"That's where we were go....going," she hiccupped and he nodded his head.

"I know and we'll make sure you get there. Do you have family there?"

"N...no. Aunt Fran was taking me back home to Nana's house in St. Louis. Ma and Pa died in a raid on our farm and they said I'm t...too y...young to s...stay th...there on my o...own. I don't know how I'm gonna get to Nana's now."

"Don't worry, Mindy, we'll find a way to get you to your Nana. Now how would you like to ride up top with me?"

"He killed the driver," she said softly.

"I know he did, but he won't hurt you! You have my word on that. Okay?"

"O...okay," she said as he passed her the canteen once more.

"You just sit here for a few more minutes and I'll tell you when I want you to come out." He smiled as she nodded his head and he slipped back outside. It took nearly half an hour to secure the driver to Peso's back and make sure the horses were tied to the back of the stage. Once he was done he turned back to his friend.

"Vin, keep him out of sight until I get Mindy out."

Tanner nodded and watched his friend move to the side of the stagecoach. "Don't make a sound!" he warned the prisoner.

"Okay, Mindy, Let's get you up top. Put your bonnet on so the sun won't be too hot."

"Okay, Chris," the girl said as she slipped her bonnet up over her hair and tied the ribbon under her neck. She accepted his hand as he led her from the coach, steering her away from where Vin held the prisoner. He lifted her into the seat and smiled as he climbed up beside her. He looked over the top of the stage and shouted.

"Okay, Vin."

Tanner signalled for Clark to get up and led him to the open door of the coach. "Git down on the floor!" he ordered and shoved the man forcefully. He used the rope he'd taken from Peso to secure the mans ankles and the tied them to the seat in order to stop him from lashing out with his feet. He slid into the seat, relieved as it took some of the pressure off his back.

"You ready, Vin?" Larabee asked.

"Yeah," the tracker shouted as he slammed the door of the stage and reached for the canteen.

"Mindy, my friend is back there," Larabee explained as he flicked the reins and started the horses forward. "His name is Vin Tanner and if you get too hot or too tired to ride up here anymore you just let me know and we'll change places. Okay?"

"I wanna stay with you, Chris," the girl said as she slid closer to him, seeking comfort in his presence.

Larabee smiled as she leaned in closer and he wrapped his arm around the trembling form. He knew she was close to tears again and he hoped she'd be okay until they reached Farmington. "Would you like to help me?" he asked.

"Help you?"

"Drive the horses," he said and saw some of the fear disappear from her eyes.

"Really?"

"Sure. Just hold onto the reins with me. When we need to turn you just pull the reins in that direction," he explained and showed her how to tug on the lines. He felt her relax against him and smiled as she tugged gently on the reins and the horses obeyed her commands. He heard her soft giggle and was glad he'd gotten her mind of her problems if only for a short time.

Help us!

Chris looked around and frowned as he heard the two words repeated and again a whisper of a breeze flickered over him. He felt the girl move beside him, but realized she hadn't heard anything. He glanced around the eerie desert, but the call for help was not repeated.

Vin relaxed against the hard seat, knowing he'd feel every bounce of the coach as they rode towards Farmington. He kept checking the prisoner's ropes to make sure there was no way he'd get them undone. He sucked in a deep breath as the wheels went over a particularly deep rut. "Shit!" he hissed and stretched taut muscles as he heard laughter from Larabee and the girl. Where the hell's yer flask, Lar'bee? he thought, knowing the rest of the ride would be misery for him.

Buck hardly saw Ezra during the two days they'd been in Jasper. So far they'd been moving in separate circles. While Ezra made his luck at the poker tables, Buck Wilmington made his own luck. The best kind, soft curves covered in satin and ruby lips teasing him.

The scoundrel lay back against the soft pillows as two sets of hands massaged his body. His eyes were closed but he felt a glass held to his lips and he sipped at the delicious wine. He licked his lips and smiled contentedly as the hands returned.

"Ah, Darlin'... I'm thinkin' I've died and gone to heaven 'cause there's no way those hands belong to anyone but a pair of angels," Wilmington said as he opened his eyes and looked from one beautiful face to the other. Amanda and Ariana were identical twins and the two women were more than willing to share their delight in this man.

"And there was never a more beautiful pair of angels!" Wilmington said as he kissed a set of ruby red lips and turned as the other set of hands pulled him away.

"I bet you say that to all the girls, Bucky," Ariana said as her sister poured scented oil into the palms of her hands.

"Yeah, Bucky, how many women have you used your charms on?" Amanda pouted.

"Ah, hell, I assure you ladies, ol' Buck's got enough to go around," Wilmington said, sipping at the glass of wine Amanda held to his lips.

"Is that right, Sugar," Ariana asked as she rubbed the oil over his bare chest and throat.

"That's right, Darlin' just ask any of the ladies...Shit!" he hissed as he realized he'd said too much. Wilmington had grown up in a brothel and understood how rough this life could be, but once in a while he forgot and paid the price. This was no exception as a glass of cold water was dumped in his lap.

"Ah, Hell, that was cold!" the ladies' man hissed.

"Well, Bucky, maybe you can find someone to warm you up. Maybe that little Carrie is willing to share her bed with you again," Amanda said as she pulled him out of the bed. "Me and Ariana have decided we need to use our talents on someone who appreciates us for our finer attributes."

Buck shivered as he stood naked before the two women and reached for his clothes. His head spun and he shook it in an effort to clear the cobwebs. He now understood why they were upset with him. Somehow they'd found out about his tryst with the feisty redhead down the hall.

"What's wrong, Bucky, can't handle your wine?" Ariana smiled as she watched the big man sit back on the bed.

"Ah, hell, ladies, what did you do?" he asked as they lifted his legs on the bed.

"Don't you worry, none, Darlin, you just go on to sleep and things will look just fine in the morning." Amanda giggled as she rubbed his chest and tweaked the hairs there.

"Yeah, everything will be hangin around just waitin' for you to wake up," Ariana whispered in his ear.

"No hard feelin's, Bucky," Amanda said as she ran her fingers across his forehead.

"That's it just sleep," Ariana ordered.

Buck was slow in waking, his body not wanting to move, yet nature called and the urge was beginning to get painful. He forced his eyes open, regretting the move immediately as the light stabbed at his eye.

What the hell did I do last night? he thought as he peeled his eyelids open. He looked around the unfamiliar room and finally remembered where he was and whose room he was in.

"Ah, Hell!" he groaned as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair and looked around. He groaned at the pain the movement caused. He stood up and grabbed onto the post at the head of the bed and smiled.

"So you ladies like to play rough?" he said, remembering how the single glass of wine had been his downfall. He hopped around the room in search of his clothing, groaning as he realized there wasn't a single article of clothing in the room, even the bedding and towels had been taken away.

"Oh, I owe you ladies," he said when he glanced out the window. There was no doubt that the clothing strung across the street was his. He stuck his head out the window and tried to reach his longjohns, but they were just out of his reach. He looked down as soft giggles sounded from below the window.

"I hope you're not bashful, Bucky, you see we think the ladies would love to see your assets running down the hall," Ariana said.

"Ah, come on, Ladies, you're not really going to make me go out there like this." He laughed, but wasn't sure if these two were serious or not.

"Ah," Amanda said, smiling up at the ladies man. "We are serious, Buck!"

"Yes, there's nothing more fun than seeing you run through the street buck naked!"

"Ah, Hell, ladies," he said. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Ah, don't worry, Stud," Ariana smiled innocently at him. "Help is on the way."

"Help?"

"That's right, and she should be arriving right about now," Amanda told him.

"Damn!" Wilmington hissed as a knock sounded on the door and the door was slammed open

"You ladies don't play fair!" he said and tried to find something to cover himself.

"Oh, Bucky, we play to win," the twins said in unison, their laughter floating to his ears as the ladies man placed his hands in front of his private area.

"My girls tell me ya might be interested in something I own." The woman standing in the doorway was large framed, her red hair pulled back in a tight bun, her dressing gown clung like a second skin to her ample body.

Buck felt the heat rise in his cheeks as the woman's hazel eyes raked over his bare body. Her left arm was behind her body and he knew she was holding something in her hand. He hoped it was something he could wear, but something told him whatever it was would probably heighten the color already seeping into his cheeks.

"What would that be, Ma'am?" he asked and moved to pull the small table in front of him as the woman came into the room.

"Well they said you were in need of something to cover that luscious body of yours."

"Ah, hell," Buck said as the woman held her offering out to him.

"I'm afraid this is all we have to spare, but I'm sure you will fill it out nicely," the woman said.

"Damn, I mean...ah, Ma'am, I don't think..."

"It's all I have," the woman said, her eyes raking over the handsome man standing before her.

"Can't you ask one of the men for a..."

"Oh, well, I guess you'd rather leave the room the same way as you came into the world," she laughed as she turned her body, but not her face away from him. "I look forward to you parading through..."

"Damn!" the scoundrel swore as he saw his only hope walking away. "I'll take it!"

The woman turned back and placed her hands on her hips. "What was that, Bucky?"

He knew she was not going to make this easy for him and again the heat rose to his cheeks as he crouched down behind the table.

"I'll take it, Ma'am," he repeated.

"Well, maybe I've changed my mind about giving it to you," she said with a grin, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Ah, hell..."

"Maybe if you asked nicely..."

Buck swallowed his pride and smiled sweetly at the woman.

"Please, Ma'am."

"Please, Ma'am, what?"

"Please, ma'am, can I have that..."

"Nightgown."

"Nightgown," Wilmington knew the twins were getting him back tenfold and there was nothing he could do to recover his dignity. He thought of all the times he'd been able to put one over on others, always in jest, and he realized this was the same thing, only in reverse. He finally gave into the laughter he'd felt building since seeing the dressing gown covered in large red flowers, high red collar, and a big crimson bow at the back. He stepped out from behind the table and bowed to the woman.

"May I borrow your gown, Ma'am?" he asked and lifted his head to her high-pitched laughter.

"Lordy, Bucky, my girls don't know what a charmer they're giving up!" she exclaimed as she tossed the gown high in the air

Buck grabbed for the gown, leaving himself unprotected from gawking eyes.

"Oh, my, if I was only a few years younger," she said wistfully.

"I don't think I'd be man enough for ya, Ma'am." The scoundrel winked as he wrapped the gown around himself and smiled at her. As he raced out the door. He made it to the top of the stairs and could see the crowded gambling hall below him. Normally the hall would not be so full, but with the poker tournament on it was packed day and night. He prayed Ezra Standish had already retired as he raced down the steps two at a time. Not used to running in a dress his feet tangled and he would've fallen at the bottom, but a man in a black suit grabbed his arm.

"Best watch your step, little lady," the man said and laughed when his eyes met Wilmington's.

There were not many men that the scoundrel had to look up at, but this man was one of them. He seemed to tower over Buck, and he smiled brightly as he pulled from the man's grasp

"Thanks, but I ain't no lady!"

"Well ya look mighty fine in that gown," the man shouted over the loud music.

Wilmington hurried into the street with the sounds of wolf whistles following him. He glanced at the window and saw the two identical faces watching him. He wondered how they'd managed to get inside so quickly. Must've slipped back inside while I was changing, he thought.

"Ah, Bucky, looks like someone's taken a fancy to you," Ariana laughed.

The mustached man bowed to the two women with a flourish before turning to find his clothes. His jaw dropped as his eyes came to rest on a familiar form, holding his pants and shirt. He knew the twins had managed to get his clothes off the line before they went inside and somehow, lady luck had smiled down on the only gambler in Jasper who knew him.

"Ah, shit," he swore in a low breath, "Hey, Ezra!"

"Well, Buck, I see you have decided to expand your wardrobe." The Southerner charmed, eyes glittering in devilish green light.

"Shut up, Ez, and gimme my clothes!" the ladies man snapped.

"Your clothes? I thought you were wearing them? Flowers do suit you. Although the ones on your posterior seem to expand your rather ample backside!"

"Ez, don't make me shoot ya!"

The gambler circled his friend and smiled as he stopped in front of him.

"I'm sorry, but I do believe that is an empty threat as I cannot find a place where you could endeavor to hide a gun."

"Ez!" The ladies' man grabbed for the clothes, forgetting that his hands had been holding the gown together. A loud gasp from beside him made him turn and his face blushed crimson as he spotted two refined ladies hurry away in the opposite direction.

"Ah, Hell, Ez, gimme my damn clothes!"

"Buck, the color of your face now perfectly matches the color of those flowers you wear."

"Oh, I'm gonna make ya pay for this."

"From what I see, I stand to make a fortune from this chance encounter."

"What are you talking about?" the ladies' man asked as he continued to grab for his clothing.

"Well, I'm sure our illustrious tracker..."

The dark head came up and he froze in the street.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Now what kind of friend would I be if I didn't share this hilarious moment with our mutual acquaintances. I'm sure the lovely widow would run a front page special on..."

"Ezra, I'm gonna..."

"Not to worry, Mr. Wilmington, a small monitory payment from you will ensure my silence."

"Ez!" the ladies' man snapped and was relieved when Standish relinquished his hold on the clothes. "I owe you!" he hissed as he pulled on his pants.

"Of that I am certain," the gambler smiled, his tooth glinting, "I'll expect you'll be very generous."

"Oh, Bucky, you want these?" Amanda called from the window.

The ladies' man looked up at the window as he finished pulling on his pants. He grabbed for the gun and belt as they were thrown towards him, forgetting his pants were undone until the two women laughed once more.

"Mr. Wilmington, you give new meaning to the words drop em," Standish said, no hint of a smile on his face, but the dancing green eyes betraying the serious tone.

"Ya know I really oughta just shoot ya," he said as he pulled the pants back up and made sure they wouldn't fall again.

"So what did you do to upset your lovely companions?"

"None of your damn business," Wilmington said as his boots landed beside him and he knew he would never live this down. "Thanks, Ladies."

"No hard feelings, Bucky," Ariana called.

"None, at all, Darlin'. I'm just sorry you didn't get to see just how hard things could get."

"Well, hell, come on up and we'll try again," Amanda called.

"N...No, I don't think so. Things get a mite cold around you two."

"This I have to hear," Standish mumbled as they walked towards their hotel.

"Not from me you won't!"

"Maybe I should pay a call on the two lovely ladies?"

"If ya do ya might wanna keep your clothes on and make sure there's no ice around," Wilmington said, wincing as he walked beside his friend. "And don't ever mention another woman around them or things'll turn cold real fast."

They'd been driving for a couple of hours when Chris noticed the girl was getting tired. Once Mindy began to fall asleep he stopped the stage and had Tanner bring the prisoner outside. He made sure the girl could not see the murderer, before bringing her down and placing her inside the coach. He covered her with one of the blankets under the seats before turning towards the tracker.

"How are you doing, Vin?"

"Jest fuckin' fine!" the sharpshooter snapped as he shoved the prisoner towards the front of the stage. "Ya git in there, Lar'bee and take care of the girl!"

"I don't think so, Tanner. You'll fall out of that seat before we get half a mile..."

"I'm..."

"A mess. Anyone with two eyes can see your back's hurting you. Now get back in there before I tie you up!"

"Ya wouldn't!"

"Try me!"

"What about the girl?"

"What about her?"

"She don't know me!"

"I told her who you were," he said as he looked inside once more. He smiled at the brown eyes looking at him. "Mindy, you remember me telling you about my friend Vin?"

"Yes," she said tiredly.

"Is it okay if he rides in here with you?"

"O...okay," she said as her eyes closed and she slept.

"You heard her, Pard. Get in!"

"Ain'tcha tired of bein' out in the heat?"

"No! Now you're wasting daylight, Tanner!"

Vin climbed reluctantly inside and Chris closed the door before he could protest further. He leaned heavily against the back of his seat and glared at his best friend.

"Next stop, Farmington," Larabee told him, ignoring the blue ice staring at him. He pulled the prisoner to the front of the coach and told him to climb aboard, smiling as the man looked at his bound hands. The blond helped him up and waited for him to grab onto the seat before he let go. Once the man was seated, the gunslinger tied his ankles and wrapped the excess rope around the sidebar of the stage, before climbing up beside him. A simple flick of the rope and they were headed towards Farmington once more.

Darkness had completely taken over as Chris drove the stage through the center of town. Few people were in the street, but he could see light in what he knew was the jail. He pulled the stage to a stop in front of it and heard a shout from behind him.

"Hey, Tom, what the hell happened? Yer four hours late!"

Chris turned his weary gaze on a white haired man in a business suit and asked. "Your sheriff in?"

"You ain't Tom..." the man said as the door of the jail opened and a middle aged man stepped outside. The light from the street fire shone off the badge on his chest.

"No, I'm not. Tom's dead. This man did it," Larabee said, nodding his head to the man beside him. "Killed a woman too."

"You see it happen?" the sheriff asked.

"No, but my friend did."

"Where is he?"

"In the back," Larabee said as he climbed down from the seat and stretched the kinks from his back. He blocked the sheriff and the other man by standing in front of the door.

"Look, Sheriff, the girl's scared. She saw what that animal did to the driver. I'll bring her out once you got that piece of trash inside a cell."

"Alright, Mr..."

"Larabee. Chris Larabee."

"The gunslinger?" the white haired man asked.

"Some say that's what I am. Does it matter?"

"No. Guess not. All right, you stay right here while I take care of the prisoner."

"Not going anywhere," Larabee said as he turned and opened the door, letting his worried gaze rest on the tracker. The fact that Vin had yet to move told him just how much he was hurt. He saw the younger man's white knuckles grasping the side of the seat and knew the he was hurt more than he'd let on. He reached in and touched the younger man's arm.

"Vin, we're here," he said softly.

"Huh," the long-haired man muttered and gasped as he moved on the seat. "Sonofabitch!"

"Easy, Tanner, just lie still and I'll see if there's a doctor here."

"No doctor! I'm okay!"

"Sure you are," Larabee shook his head as the stubborn man sat forward and eased out of the stage. "Hi, Mindy," he said when he saw a pair of scared brown eyes open and look at him. "It's okay, Honey, no one's gonna hurt you here. We're in Farmington."

"We...we made it?" the girl asked as she sat up.

"That's right..."

"You can bring her out now, Mr. Larabee," the sheriff ordered.

"Are you okay, Mindy?"

"W...will you stay w...with me?"

The gunslinger knew she'd latched onto him as her protector and for now he would let her think that way. The girl had been through so much and he didn't want to see her hurt further, "I'm not going anywhere right now," he assured her as he helped her from the coach.

"Sheriff, this is Mindy Lawrence."

The sheriff knelt in front of the girl and smiled warmly. His own daughter was ten and this child was around that age, maybe a little younger.

"Hi, Mindy. My name is Hank Thompson and I'm the sheriff here in Farmington. I know you're scared right now."

"Not scared anymore...hungry!" the girl said.

"Sheriff, can't this wait until tomorrow?" Larabee asked as he watched Tanner lean heavily against the stage.

"Yeah, that's fine, Mr. Larabee. Why don't you take her down to Molly's, that's the place at the end of the street and get something to eat. She makes the best roast in these parts and I bet she's baked some of her cookies too. Would you like that, Mindy?"

"Can we go, Chris?" Mindy asked excitedly.

"Yeah," Larabee said as she grabbed his hand. "Sheriff, can you get someone to take care of our horses?"

Thompson nodded and said softly. "I'll have Jacobs take care of them after I drop the bodies off at the undertakers. They'll be in the livery across the street. By the way Mr. Larabee, Molly's got some rooms she rents out if you're a mind to."

"Thanks, Sheriff. Vin you ready to go?"

"Yeah," the sharpshooter said tiredly, hoping for a soft bed and something warm to fill his belly.

Chris watched out of the corner of his eye as his friend moved away from the stage. He knew the tracker was in pain and he was going to make sure he saw the doctor, if it meant knocking him out and tying him to a bed. He smiled as he felt Mindy tug on his arm and pull him towards the house at the end of the street. They walked through the dark street until they came to the house the sheriff indicated. Chris opened the tiny gate and held it as the tracker walked through. He knew things would only get worse by morning, especially once tired muscles had a chance to rest and stiffen further.

Mindy held tightly to Larabee's hand as they reached the door and he knocked lightly. A soft voice told them to hold on and he watched as Tanner leaned heavily against the railing. The door opened and soft white light spilled out on the landing.

Molly Richmond shook her head at the three weary looking newcomers and opened the door further. "Well you two look worse than what my cat dragged in last night!" She said as she looked from one man to the other, before letting her eyes come to rest on the child holding tightly to Larabee's hand.

"But you look as pretty as the marigolds in springtime. What's your name, Honey?" she asked.

The child looked up at Larabee and he nodded that it was okay.

"Mindy Lawrence."

"Well, Mindy why don't you bring your Pa and your friend inside and we'll get you something to eat?"

"He's not my Pa, Ma'am. My Pa and Ma are dead and so is Aunt Fran." As she said the words, tears filled her eyes and the sobs began anew.

Chris reached down and picked the child up in his arms, holding her against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. He saw the sympathy in the woman's blue gray eyes and knew she could be trusted.

"Oh, Dear, I'm so sorry," Molly said as she ran her hands through her silver streaked black hair. "Why don't you bring her in and..." she stopped as she saw the second man sway and reached out for his arm. "Do you need to lie down?" she asked, shaking her head at the sorry threesome that had just entered her home.

"I'm fine, Ma'am."

"Sure you are," she said and turned back to the man in black. "Have you got rooms yet?"

"No, Ma'am, we were hoping you'd be able to put us up for a few days," Larabee told her, knowing they'd need to stick around in order for Vin Tanner to not only testify, but give him a chance to rest and heal.

"I have three beds. Two of em are in one room. If the little lady doesn't mind sharing a room with me there's a nice bed in there just for her."

"Thank you, Ma'am, that's fine," Larabee said gratefully, his hand rubbing the sobbing child's back.

"Have you eaten yet?" the woman asked.

"No, Ma'am, Sheriff said you might have something..." The gunslinger started, but the woman's raised hands stopped him.

"You three go sit at the table and I'll bring in what's left from supper. Won't take me long to warm it up."

Larabee smiled, knowing this woman would do anything for her guests. "You don't need to go through any trouble, Ma'am..."

"No trouble. Now shoo. Go on, get into the kitchen and sit down. That child may not weigh much, but you look like you're ready to fall down and your friend's even worse."

"Thanks, Mrs..." Tanner drawled.

"Molly Richmond, but you just go ahead and call me Molly."

"Thanks, Molly. I'm Chris and that's Vin," he said, nodding towards the tracker as they made their way to the kitchen. A large table dominated one wall of the kitchen and was surrounded by eight chairs. A basket of wildflowers sat on a white lace cloth in the center, surrounded by upturned glasses and folded napkins. Chris eased the little girl into one of the chairs and sat in the one next to her. Once more he watched his friend without his knowledge.

Vin held the sides of the chair as he sank down on the hard surface. His back grew continuously worse with each movement and he silently cursed his malady. Ain't fuckin' gettin' ol' Larabee, he thought and winced as pain shot up into his shoulders. He lifted his head and met Larabee's worried gaze as just as the woman placed a pot of coffee and two cups on the table between them.

Molly set a glass of milk in front of the child and smiled at the tear stained face. "Everything's going to be okay, Honey. You just drink that milk and Molly will have you fed in no time."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Larabee said as the child picked up the glass and drank greedily.

"You're welcome, Chris. Now help yourself to the coffee. Dinner won't be long and you can get those two to bed," she said as she hurried back to the stove.

The gunslinger watched his friend for a reaction to the woman's words, but fear filled him as no protest was forthcoming. Have to ask Molly about a doctor, he thought and saw the shaggy head come up and glare at him.

"I'm fine."

"We'll let the doctor..."

"I don't need a damn doctor. Jest need some of Nathan's rub."

"We'll see."

"Lar'bee!" Tanner hissed, but there was more pain in his words than anger.

The gunslinger reached for the pot and filled both cups with the strong brew. He shoved one across to his friend and smiled at the barely audible thanks.

Molly quickly filled three plates with the thick beef stew and reheated biscuits and placed one in front of each of her guests. She sat beside the girl and smiled as Mindy dipped her spoon into the simple, yet flavorful meal.

"When you're done with that I've got some sugar cookies," the woman told her and was delighted to see a real smile on the tired face.

Chris listened to the woman talking, but his eyes continued to study the ailing tracker. He knew by the unsteady movements that Vin was barely able to sit in the chair. Chris had to force himself not to say anything, knowing the quiet man hated being hurt, truth be told he did too. He ate his own meal and was glad when the sharpshooter finally finished his meal and yawned tiredly.

"Sounds like you need to get to bed," Molly said. "Come on and I'll show you where to bunk."

"Go on, Vin. I won't be far behind you."

Molly showed the younger man where the room was at the end of the hall. Vin was pleasantly surprised by the size of the beds and the breeze wafting through the curtains.

"If you need anything just let me know," the woman said as she closed the door behind her and returned to the kitchen.

Larabee looked up from his second cup of coffee as the woman came back. "Can you take care of Mindy for a few minutes. I'd like to go get her bag off the stage and check on our horses."

"Sure thing. Me and Mindy are gonna have some cookies. Aren't we Mindy?"

Chris was glad to see the child nod her head enthusiastically.

"Make sure you save one for me, Mindy!"

"I will," the girl agreed as she drank the last of her milk.

"You don't need to knock when you come back, Chris, just come right on in."

"Thanks, Molly. Is there a doctor in this town?"

"Dr. O'Malley. His office is at the end of the street opposite the general store. Just knock on the door and tell him you and your friend are staying here. He's a good man, Chris, and he'll be able to help your friend," she assured him.

Larabee nodded, turned and smiled at the little girl and walked towards the door. He heard Molly talking softly to the child and was relieved to know he was leaving her in good hands. He walked out the door and hurried out of the yard, making sure he barred the gate as he left. He frowned and his body tensed as a figure, outlined by the light of the street fire hurried towards him. Years of being a gunslinger in strange towns kept him on alert, but he slowly relaxed as he recognized the sheriff.

"Everything okay, Sheriff?"

"Yeah, fine, just thought you might be needin' these," he said as he passed Larabee the saddlebags.

"Thanks, I was just coming to get them."

"Also got the girl's bag here. Figured it was hers because it's full of little dresses and things."

"Yeah, guess it is hers," the gunslinger said as he threw the two saddlebags over his shoulder and continued down the street.

"Where are you headed?" Thompson asked.

Larabee knew the man was just trying to be friendly, but again his instincts were to give as little information as possible to strangers in unknown towns. He shook himself knowing this man would find out anyway. "Just have to check with your sawbones."

"Why? Is the little girl hurt?"

"No, she's fine, well as fine as any child would be after going through what she did."

"Well you don't seem to be ailin'. Must be your friend. Hope it's nothing serious."

Me too, Larabee thought as he walked beside Thompson.

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Just want to get the doc to take a look at him."

"Well, you let me know what Doc O'Malley says. Don't want to lose one of my witnesses before the judge gets here."

"When will that be?"

"He should be here Thursday. That gives your friend three days to rest up."

"You got a telegraph office, Sheriff?"

"Sure do. Just check with Tilly at the hotel. She runs the telegraph and the post office. She'll be able to help you out. But she's closed right now."

"Thanks, Sheriff."

"Nothing to thank me for, Mr. Larabee. Just take care of my two witnesses," Thompson said as he walked towards the jail.

Chris smiled as he continued towards the house at the end of the street. He looked at the general store and smiled at the tiny doll in the window. He wondered why the store would be open at such a late hour, but hurried towards it. He pushed open the door and saw an elderly couple stocking shelves.

The woman stood up and smiled at the newcomer. "I'm sorry, Sir, but we're closed."

"Oh, sorry, Ma'am, saw the light and was hoping you were still open."

"Hey, ain't you one of the ones came in with the stage. You the one who saved that little girl?" the man said as he stood up and came forward.

Larabee nodded. "Came in on the stage..."

"Well in that case we're open. My name's Julia Winters and this is my husband Frank," the woman said. "Now what can I get for you, Mr. Larabee?"

Chris frowned, wondering how this women knew his name, and remembered how news travelled in small towns.

"How much is that doll you have in the window?"

"This one?" Julia asked as she picked up the tiny figurine.

"Yes, Ma'am," Larabee answered. The doll wore a fancy white lace dress with matching bonnet over dark hair.

"One dollar. I know it's a little costly, but it comes from France and is of the highest quality."

Larabee reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. He knew he could find a cheaper doll, but something about this one seemed perfect for Mindy Lawrence and he handed the woman the money.

"Would you like me to wrap it for you?"

"No, thank you, Ma'am," he said as he took the doll from her.

"You're a kind hearted soul, Mr. Larabee," Julia Winters said of his gift for the little girl.

Not many would agree with you, Ma'am. Most think my soul is as dark as the clothes I wear, he thought as he nodded his thanks and left the store. He walked across the street and was stopped as the whispered words sounded on the breeze once more.

Help us!

Chris turned in the street, gazing up and down the darkened rows of buildings, frowning as he realized he was completely alone.

You're hearing things again, Larabee, he thought as he hurried towards the small house. He knocked at the door and waited for it to be opened. When it did he was surprised to find a man not much older than Vin Tanner standing there. The hair was much shorter, the eyes a darker shade of blue, the hair almost rusty in color, and Chris wondered if this man could possibly be a doctor.

"Can I help you?"

"Hope so. I'm looking for Dr. O'Malley."

"Well then you can quit looking. I'm Jack O'Malley. What can I do for you?"

"It's not me. My friend hurt his back and I wanted the doctor."

O'Malley was used to this reaction from newcomers. He'd graduated at an early age, but the papers on his wall didn't mean much to people in the west. They wanted experience and experience came with age. This town had given him that chance without question when he'd come in on the stage five years ago. Now his home and his patients were here.

"Where is your friend? Can he come here?"

"He's at Molly Richmond's place and I'd rather not make him have to come down here."

"Is he in pain?"

"He won't admit it, but yeah he is."

"Oh, Hell, one of the stubborn types."

Larabee had to laugh at the doctor's choice of words.

"You could say that."

"Will he shoot me if I just show up."

"No, you'll be safe, but you might end up treating two patients."

"Ah, so he'll take it out on you, will he?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Just wait here 'til I get my bag. Might take a couple of minutes while I get some extra bandages just in case your friend does decide to shoot you," O'Malley told him.

Larabee watched the doctor step back inside the house and knew this was a man he could very well grow to like. He looked up and down the quiet street, enjoying the solitude of the evening. It wasn't long before O'Malley rejoined him and they walked out into the street.

"Never did get your name."

"Chris Larabee."

"And your friend?"

"Vin Tanner."

"How was he hurt?"

"Tangled with the man your sheriff has in his jail."

"The one that killed Tom and the woman?"

"Yeah. Vin found him just as he killed her and they fought."

"Where is he hurt?"

"His back. Think he probably twisted it during the fight."

"You know you boys are heroes."

"Not a hero, Doc, just doing what anyone else would've done if they'd been there."

"Not everyone, Mr. Larabee. Most folks are too scared to interfere in things they feel are none of their business. I wish that wasn't so, but I've seen it all too often."

"Who knows, maybe some day people will help each other without needing a reason."

"I hope you're right, but I don't expect to see it anytime soon. Although I must say it is refreshing to see it when it does happen. Well, here we are. Let's go see how your friend is doing."

Larabee moved through the gate as O'Malley held it open for him. Once they reached the door he eased it open and held it for the doctor.

"Chris," Mindy said excitedly as she spotted her new friend.

"Hi, Honey," Larabee said, dropping the saddlebags and her tiny suitcase on the floor beside the table.

"Hello, Jack."

"Evening, Molly, hear you have a guest who's in need of my services."

"I do, but he's a mite ornery." Molly looked towards the table, smiling at how gentle the man in black was with the child.

"I saved you a cookie, Chris," Mindy said and passed him the sugar cookie.

"Thank you, Mindy," Larabee said, accepting the offering from the small hand. "I've got something for you too," he said.

"For me?" she asked, excitement driving some of the fear from her face.

"That's right," The blond said and handed her the doll.

"She's mine?"

"As long as you want her," Larabee assured her.

"Then she's mine forever 'cause that's how long I want her. Can I take her to bed with me?" She asked, her eyes filled with hope.

"Of course you can and I think it's time for you to get ready for bed."

"I'll look after her, Chris," Molly said, reaching for the child's hand.

Mindy's arms wrapped tightly around Larabee's neck and he felt the slight tremble of the child's body against his own.

"I want to stay with Chris," she sobbed against him.

Molly held her hand up as Larabee went to speak. She knelt beside the little girl and waited for the small head to turn her way.

"Mindy, I know you want to stay with Chris, but he needs to help his friend. Remember I told you Vin was hurt?"

"He hurt h...his ba...back."

"That's right, and he needs his friend to help him feel better," the woman explained.

"Vin ne...needs y...you?" Mindy asked as she looked into Larabee's green eyes.

"Yes, Honey, he does. I won't be far away. Molly can help you get ready for bed and when you're ready I'll come tuck you in."

"You will?"

"Course I will," Chris said as he hugged her once more.

"Now, Little Lady, let's get you ready for bed," Molly said as the gunslinger passed her the child's bag. "Vin is in the room at the end of the hall on the right."

"Thanks, Molly," Larabee said, picking up a lamp and leading the doctor towards the room. He readied himself for the blow up he knew was about to come and shoved open the door. His eyes roamed over the darkened interior until they lit on the prone figure lying fully clothed under the window.

"Ya wanna take that fuckin' light outta here, Lar'bee?" Tanner asked without opening his eyes. He knew by the heavy tread that it wasn't the woman or the child.

"Can't do that yet, Tanner, got someone who's gonna take a look at you."

"What the fuck are ya talkin' 'bout?" The sharpshooter sat up and slid his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as shards of pain ripped threw his back, up into his shoulders.

"Brought the town's doctor to take a look at your back."

"Nuthin' wrong with my back."

"Well now, Mr. Tanner, I'd say there's something wrong with it."

"What the hell do ya know about it?"

"Vin!"

"Guess Molly was right about you being a mite ornery," O'Malley said as he entered the room, but stood a little behind the gunslinger.

"Ain't orn'ry. Jest don't cotton ta folks stickin' their nose in my business. Goes fer..."

"Vin, shut up for a while will you? Look, let the doc take a look at you and we can both get some rest!" Larabee was used to the tracker's stubborn cussedness, but lack of sleep was making him a little short tempered as well.

"Was restin' 'til ya come bargin' the hell in!"

"That's not the way I saw it! You looked like you were in a shitload of pain!"

"...been worse..."

"Mr. Tanner, why don't you let me take a look at you and set your friend's mind at ease. He's been worried about you."

"Hell, Doc, ain't nuthin wrong with me!" Tanner snapped and stood up.

Chris moved to the tracker's side as he gasped in pain. He grabbed his arms and eased him back on the bed, ignoring the muttered curses and threats of being shot.

"We need to get his shirt off," O'Malley said, staying slightly back from the irate man.

"Vin, I'm gonna take off your coat and shirt and..."

"Do it m'self," Tanner hissed.

"Sure you can, but we ain't got all night! Now shut up and let me help you!" Larabee knew his friend was in more pain then he was letting on as the younger man grew quiet and let him ease him out of his clothes.

"Sorry, Vin," the blond whispered as he pulled the shirt from under the prone form.

"It's o...kay, Chris, not yer fault!"

"Are you ready to admit you need help?" Larabee asked.

"Not fuckin' likely," the tracker hissed, smiling at the look on his friend's face.

"Yeah, well, you're getting it whether you want it or not. He's all yours, Doc, and Vin," he waited until the sharpshooter looked at him. "Don't shoot the doctor."

"Don't plan on, b...but th...there's a gun...slinger m...might just get a ba...backside full of l....lead!" the Texan hissed.

Larabee smiled and turned to the doctor as Molly knocked on the door.

"You're safe, Doc, he won't do anything to you."

"Chris, Molly wants to know if you're ready to tuck her in?"

"Yeah, I'm ready," Larabee said. "I'll be back in a few minutes, Vin."

"Seems like I fu...ain't goin' nowhere," the tracker snapped, barely able to contain the curse from escaping his mouth.

Chris walked out of the room and Molly pointed to the room across the hall.

"She's in there, Chris, and she's certainly taken a shine to you."

"Yeah, I noticed that. It's gonna be hard when the time comes to say goodbye."

"Hard for both of you, I'm thinkin," she mumbled as he walked into the room.

"Hi, Mindy," Larabee said as he sat on the edge of the bed. She smiled as the child reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. He rubbed her back and gently eased her down on the bed, wiping the tears from her eyes as he did so.

"I m...miss Aunt Fran, C...Chris," she sniffed.

"I know you do, Honey, but things are gonna be okay."

"Who's gonna take care of me now?"

"Me and Vin and Molly and lots of folks will take care of you until we can get you to your Nana and Papa."

"I can still go to Nana and Papa?" she asked, eyes bright with hope as she looked at the gunslinger.

"Of course you can, Honey. I'll send them a telegram tomorrow and we'll make arrangements to have you brought to them."

The little girl cried as her eyes closed and Chris rubbed her shoulder as she pulled the doll close to her chest. Memories of Adam brought a sad smile to his face, as he remembered soothing his son's fears in much the same way, only Adam had been holding a small calico horse.

"I can look after her now, Chris," Molly said as she came into the room.

Larabee looked down at the bed as to see a pair of frightened eyes looking up at him.

"It's okay, Mindy, I'll be right next door. Okay?"

"O...kay," the child said softly as her eyes closed.

Chris wiped the tears from her cheeks and stood up slowly. With a weary sigh he stretched the kinks out of his back and turned to the woman who'd given her home so freely.

"Thanks, Molly, come get me if she needs anything."

"I will. Now you go see to your friend and make sure you get some sleep when Jack leaves. There's coffee on the table in the kitchen if you want some."

Larabee nodded and moved across the hall to the second bedroom. He heard O'Malley giving Tanner instructions and moved towards the kitchen. He grabbed a cup and poured himself a fresh brew and walked back to the bedroom. He waited by the door, listening as the doctor made a thorough examination of his friend's back.

"Mr. Tanner, you're gonna need to lie still for a few days, maybe as long as a week..."

"Can't Doc, I got thin's ta do that don't include layin' on m'back..."

"You don't have a choice..."

"Always got a choice, Doc, jest don't tell Lar'bee...."

"Too late, Tanner," Larabee said, the hot cup held tightly in his grasp.

"Ah, fuck, how long ya been there?"

"Long enough..." He raised a single sandy brow and unleashed a knowing half-grin.

"Shit, Chris, we's goin ta Jasper! Gonna have some fun with Buck and Ez."

"We can go to Jasper when you're feeling better..."

"Feelin' fine, Lar'bee! Be ready to ride out at first light..." Tanner tried and pushed his body upwards, crying out as pain raced through his back.

"Sure you are, Mr. Tanner," O'Malley said as the lean body dropped back on the bed. He smiled as Larabee knelt beside him, concern written across the tired face.

"Sorry, Pard, right now we do as the doc says."

"Ah, hell!" the tracker gasped as the doctor's hands ran along his lower back.

"Sorry, Mr. Tanner, but you won't be able to move around much come morning anyway. I'm gonna give you a little Laudanum to help you sleep."

"...o...kay..."

"Vin, I know you hate the stuff, but maybe it'll help you get some sleep," Larabee said sympathetically.

"...not much choice, Lar'bee..." The tracker accepted the dose of medicine from the doctor and tried to hide the pain from his friend.

O'Malley and Larabee watched until the medicine began to take hold of the injured man, easing him towards a restful sleep.

"Good night, Vin," Larabee said as the younger man finally grew quiet.

"Nigh', Ch...riss...Tha...nks....Doc," the sharpshooter slurred as the nagging pain ebbed away with his consciousness.

"Doc, is there anything I can do to make this easier for him?"

"Yes, Mr. Larabee..."

"Chris..."

"Chris, first thing you need to do is get some sleep. You look almost as bad as your friend..."

"I'm okay."

"Sure you are. Just as fine as he is. Look, get a good night's sleep. When you wake up maybe you can apply hot towels to his back to ease the pain some. There's not much you can do, but let him rest. I don't think there's anything permanent, but if he goes moving around before his back had a chance to heal, well things could get a lot worse."

"How long should I keep him down?" Larabee inquired with concern.

"A week should do it..."

"A week, ah hell, doc, give me something easy," the blond mumbled tiredly.

"He doesn't seem to like being cooped up," the doctor observed.

"Vin is a man who likes to do things himself...likes being in the thick of the action, so to speak, and there's not a better man to have watching your back."

"Well, right now, Chris, he needs you to watch his back, and I mean just that. You're gonna have to watch for any more swelling than what's already there. You're gonna need to find out from him if he's in more or less pain..."

"I'll do what needs to be done, Doc."

"I know you will. Now he should sleep through the night and I think you'd better take advantage of that bed over there. If he wakes through the night give him a little more of the Laudanum. I'll send over some herbs for Molly to make him a tea with. It'll also help with the pain and maybe let him rest a little easier." O'Malley closed his bag and stood up, moving away from the bed.

"Rest really is the best thing for him, Chris," he said.

"Thanks, Doc," Larabee said, walking the physician to the door.

"You're welcome, Chris. I left the laudanum on the table in the room. Just make sure you don't give him too much. You saw how much I gave him?"

"Yeah," the blond said.

"Good, I'll come by sometime around noon."

Larabee nodded as the man moved out into the darkened street. He stood in the open door, framed by the dim light from inside the house. The fires had nearly died down now, and darkness swept across the town with the light breeze. The aroma of honey suckle and roses tickled his senses, but was quickly replaced by another, more cloying scent. Chris frowned as he moved down the narrow path, searching for the source of the nearly debilitating odor that seemed to move with him. His stomach churned at the strong nausea that forced bile into his throat. He leaned heavily against the fence, waiting for whatever it was to pass, feeling his legs grow weak as he tried to maintain his stance. His eyes clenched tightly as he fought to quell his rebelling stomach as the scent seemed to cut off his air, squeezing his chest until his lungs felt ready to burst. His head snapped up at the sound of two familiar words, whispered on the wind.

Help us!

"Godammit, who the hell's there?" he shouted and everything stopped as suddenly as it started. The breeze that carried the sickening stench no longer moved the branches on the trees or flowers on the brush. The sound of laughter and music from the saloon made him frown. He realized there had been a total absence of sound when he walked out of the house with the doctor. The fires that were almost non-existent blazed in the center of the street, casting shadows across the buildings and alleys.

"Jesus!" Larabee hissed as he moved back towards the house. He felt a tingle of fear race down his spine, but fought it off. Chris extinguished the lamp in the kitchen. Then making sure everything was okay and headed for the room he'd share with his best friend.

He stood beside Tanner's bed for a moment, watching the slow rise and fall of his friend's body. Vin lay on his stomach. Soft snores were the only assurance that he was having a relatively peaceful sleep. Larabee lifted the blanket over the lean body, shaking his head at the whispered thanks that issued from the slack lips.

Chris sank wearily onto of the small cot, sliding his boots off before lifting his legs onto the mattress. He blew out the lamp and lay awake, listening to the soft breathing from across the room. His eyes slowly closed and sleep soon wrapped him in a soft cloak, before dreams took over and his voice joined the snoring of his partner.

Larabee's sea green eyes opened, but didn't see the room he was in. Instead he saw things he didn't understand, heard things he didn't want to hear. His breathing was haggard as terror threatened to send him deeper into the nightmare realm he was already trapped in.

"Help us!" the words left his mouth as fear shone in his eyes, yet Larabee was still sleeping, unaware that he was speaking aloud in the darkened room.

Chris gasped for air, sucking it deep into his lungs as he sat upright in the bed. His heart pounded against his ribs, sending ripples of pain into his skull. His body shook with his heaving chest and drums beat behind the closed lids of his eyes. Sweat rolled off his forehead, making a trail of moisture down his cheeks and onto his chest. Fear seemed to be the only memory he had, but fear of what, of who, was out of his reach. The darkness only fueled his fear, and there didn't seem to be any oxygen in the room. He stood on unsteady legs and staggered to the window. He grabbed the bottom and shoved upwards, gasping the air as fast as his starving lungs could take it in. He hung out the window, trying to satisfy his body's sudden need for air, hoping to quell the fire burning in his chest.

The blond had no idea how long he stayed where he was, but as suddenly as the attack happened it left, leaving him nauseous and exhausted. He stood up and moved away from the window. With shaky hands he reached for the cloth in the basin, on the table between the two beds and quickly washed the evidence of fear from his face.

God, where the hell did that come from! he thought and moved towards the tracker, sinking into the chair beside Tanner's bed. He could see the younger man was still sleeping and he sighed heavily, closing his eyes. He lifted a shaky hand and cupped his lips in it, fighting to stay awake. He couldn't remember what was so terrifying about his dreams, but he knew he didn't want to return to it.

Time has a way of defeating a man's resolve. Chris Larabee spent the day, riding, helping a small child, toting a prisoner across the Bisti Badlands, and driving a stage into Farmington. He'd also had the added worry of an injured friend, all of this fought to make his attempts to stay awake a lost cause and his soft snores soon joined those of his friend.

As dawn attempted to cover the lands with the wondrous awakening of a new day, Chris' voice cried out in the semi dark room.

Vin heard the terrified voice from beside him and frowned.

"Mu...must be some...dr...dream, Cow...boy," he mumbled before the laudanum threatened to pull him back under. He sighed heavily, hoping whatever was bothering Larabee was over. Have to find out what it is, he thought. By the time he woke the next morning, any memories of dreams and questions were gone, in the wake of the pain and stiffness in his body.

Chris awoke before the sun had completely risen and shifted his stiff body in the chair. He opened his eyes and looked at the still sleeping form on the bed. Vin's face was relaxed and he was unaware of showing the pain he was feeling. The blond knew his friend tried to hide how much pain he was in, but he could see it on the haggard face.

Wincing as his back protested the night spent in the chair, Chris looked out at the town. The first streaks of the Dawn had just started to spread her wings over the horizon. Bringing with her the promise of another wondrous day, and beating back the horrors that sometimes came with the darkness. A shiver ran through his body as he tried to remember the dreams from the night before, but they stayed on the edge of his vision. There, yet not there, and he forced a smile to his face as he felt a soft breeze caress his face.

The gunslinger heard someone moving around in the kitchen. He knew the sounds of someone preparing a meal. He could hear bacon sizzling on a hot skillet and pots being placed on a stove. He smiled as the aroma of biscuits, bacon, and coffee assaulted his senses, and turned away from the window. Before leaving the room, Chris checked on the sleeping man. Satisfied that his friend would be okay he walked into the kitchen, just as Molly Richmond took a tray of biscuits from the oven.

"Well good morning, Chris. Did ya sleep well?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he lied as he moved towards the table.

"Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, Ma..."

"Told you to call me, Molly, Chris."

Larabee couldn't help, but smile at the friendly woman as she placed a cup of steaming black liquid before him.

"Thanks, Ma...Molly," he corrected.

"You're welcome. Is your friend still sleeping?" she asked, cracking two eggs into a cast iron skillet.

Chris smiled at the sizzling sound of the eggs hitting the butter and knew he could get used to this woman's cooking.

"Yeah, he's still sleeping, but not for long if he gets a whiff of those biscuits. How's Mindy?"

"She's still sleeping. The poor thing's been through so much."

"Yes, she has. She's seen things children her age shouldn't even know about."

"Sometimes there are things even adults shouldn't have to see," Molly told him. She flipped the eggs onto a plate and placed it in front of the lean gunslinger. The bacon and biscuits were already in the center of the table.

The blond smiled as the muffled, but familiar, Ah, hell! came from the room he shared with the tracker.

"Just like clockwork," he said, standing up to check on his friend.

"Well, now, you just tell him to stay in that bed and I'll bring his breakfast to him. No sense in him aggravating that back of his," the woman ordered and cracked two more eggs into the skillet.

"I'll tell him, but..."

"No buts, Chris. You just tell him it's Molly's orders if he wants bacon, biscuits and eggs. If he gets outta that bed I'll just fix him up some real thick mush."

Chris laughed as the woman threatened Tanner with the one thing that might keep him in the bed. The younger man loved to eat, but there were limits to what he considered good food. Mush was on the bottom of his list.

Hell, it's on the bottom of mine too, he thought as he hurried to check on his friends.

He pushed open the door and walked to the bed as his friend tried to sit up. "Easy there, Vin."

"Ain't nothin' easy 'bout it!" the tracker winced as he forced his body to obey his commands.

"Just lie still..."

"Can't!" the sharpshooter hissed and gingerly sat up, rubbing his hand along his lower back.

"Why the hell not?" the blond asked, shaking his head at the stubborn man.

"Why did ya think?" Tanner said sheepishly of his full bladder.

"Ah, shit, sorry, Pard!" the gunslinger said with a grin.

"Not funny, Lar'bee. Just help me git the fuck outta here for I..."

"Alright, just hang on to me and we'll..."

"We'll nothin', Lar'bee! Been takin' care've business on my own since I's able ta walk. Just git me outside!"

"No need to go outside. Chamber pot's in the corner there."

"Git!" Vin drilled, "Man needs a little privacy...wouldn't wantcha gettin' all jealous or nothin'."

"Funny, Tanner," Larabee grinned and helped the younger man stand up.

"Can you handle it from here?"

"Ain't down there I got a problem wit', Lar'bee," the tracker winced as he walked the short distance to the dry sink and lifted the lid. "Git out will ya?"

"I'll be just outside the door," the blond told is friend.

Vin knew the gunslinger was worried about him, but he hated being watched over. He nodded his head and heard the door close behind him. He hated not being able to do things for himself, yet there were times when he had little choice.

Chris waited a few minutes before knocking on the door. A muffled curse told him to enter and he shook his head at the stubborn sharpshooter. The younger man sat on the edge of the bed, tugging on his pants. The face screwed up in a tight grimace of pain as the long-haired man tried to bend far enough to pull them on. Chris was quickly at his side, catching the tracker before he hit the floor.

"Son of a bitch!" the injured man snarled as he was helped back to the bed.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just need ta git me some of that food I keep smellin'." Tanner stood up and headed for the door, smiling weakly at the woman standing there.

Molly folded her arms across her chest, blocking the exit. She frowned at the young man swaying beside the bed.

"Guess the stubborn man must like mush. Funny he didn't seem the type," she said.

"Mush, Ah shi...shoot, Ma'am," the tracker corrected as he leaned heavily on the blond.

Larabee smiled as the tracker looked disgusted. Taking pity on his friend he explained.

"Molly, Vin's gonna go right back to bed, aren't you, Pard?"

"Not if'n I gotta eat mush!"

"Well, Vin," Molly said. "If you go back to bed I'll bring you a tray of bacon, eggs, and biscuits."

"Coffee?" the tracker asked hopefully.

"Sure..."

Tanner smiled as Larabee eased him back no the bed. "Lots of sugar?"

Molly laughed as she looked at the two friends. "You're a man after my own heart, Vin...lots of sugar it is." She turned and walked away from the room.

"Vin."

"Yeah, Chris?"

"Least now I know why you can drink that shit you call coffee," the blond laughed.

"Wha' the fuck's that mean?"

"You drown the taste with sugar."

"Fuck'n ungrateful...see if'n I make ya anymore..."

Larabee just smiled at his friend, as the younger man glared at him from the stack of pillows he now rested against.

Chris smiled as the woman came back into the room and placed a tray on the tracker's lap.

"Thank you, Ma'am," the Texan drawled softly.

"It's Molly, and you're welcome, Vin. Now you eat up and go on back to sleep," the woman said, humming as she left the room.

"Slept 'nough." Vin winced as he moved on the bed.

"Got something for you," Larabee said and offered his friend the laudanum. "No point in arguing, Vin, I can see you need it."

"Ain't arguin'...just hate needin' it."

"I know," Larabee said as the tracker reluctantly took the medication.

"Thanks, Chris."

"Anytime, Tanner."

"Git yer scrawny ass out there and eat yer breakfast," the sharpshooter smiled as he dug into the meal, ignoring Larabee's indignant answer.

Chris checked on the tracker before heading for the hotel. He knew the sheriff would be over to talk to Vin and Molly around noon. He wanted to get a wire off to Buck and Ezra before the two men heard from the others. He knew the men in Four Corners would be wondering if they made it safe and sound. When they didn't hear from them, they'd send a wire to find out if he and Vin made it. He didn't want the two men in Jasper, and the three in Four Corners to worry about them. He walked into the hotel, and made his way to the desk. A man stood behind it and looked up over a pair of black rimmed glasses. His hair was silver, eyes grey, and the smile reminded Chris of Josiah Sanchez.

"What can I do fer ya, young fella?"

Chris bit back a laugh at being called young fella, smiling as the elderly man stood up.

"I need to send a telegram to Jasper and Four Corners."

The man turned towards the back room and shouted, "Tilly!"

"What the heck are ya shoutin' 'bout, Burt?"

Chris smiled at the woman who stepped through the door. She couldn't be much younger than the man behind the desk and Chris knew these two were married.

"Oh, why didn't ya say we had company. Are you lookin' for a room?"

"Hell, Tilly, rooms are my job. If he wanted one I'd'a taken care of 'im."

"Well what's he want, ya ol' coot."

Chris tried not to laugh at the antics of the elderly couple, but was unable to keep the twinkle from his eyes. These two must've had a hell of a marriage if their actions were any indication.

"Yer still as sassy as ya ever were and I'm bettin' I can still haul ya across my knee."

"Now don't be talkin' 'bout our...Oh never mind," she smiled and looked towards the newcomer.

"What can I do for ya?"

"Well, Ma'am, the sheriff said you were the lady...."

"Lady? Hank called Tilly a lady? Hell, man's gettin' soft," Burt said as he turned back to his paper.

Chris didn't miss the affectionate tap he gave his wife's behind, and he felt at ease in their presence.

"Don't pay him no never mind, Mr..."

"Larabee, Ma'am, Chris Larabee."

"Well, Mr. Larabee, what can I do for you?"

"I'd like to send a couple of telegrams. One to Jasper, one to Four Corners."

"Four Corners," Molly said wistfully. "Passed through there once, never went back. There were more guns there than ol' Burt there's got wrinkles. Who do ya want them sent to?"

"Buck Wilmington and Ezra Standish in Jasper."

"Must be poker players if they're in that town," she leaned across the desk and whispered. "Or else they's visiting that fancy massage parlor Burt likes ta visit. Ol' coot thinks I don't know," she cackled as she wrote the names Larabee gave her.

"Yes, ma'am," Larabee said with a knowing smile.

"Who do I send it to in Four Corners?"

"JD Dunne," Larabee answered, knowing the young sheriff would make a daily run to the telegraph office.

"Okay, now whatcha want me ta tell 'em?"

"Also need to send one to St. Louis?"

"What name?"

"Rupert Lawrence," Larabee answered.

"Alright, now why don'tcha tell me what ya want me ta say to 'im?"

While she was sending the messages, his mind returned to the horrible night's events. Once more he tried to grasp the nightmares, but without success. He left the hotel and looked out over the town of Farmington, wondering why he suddenly wished they'd never left Four Corners.

A feeling of foreboding shrouded him as he hurried along the street. His mind turned to the two people who were depending on him. One his best friend; the other an innocent child who'd been forced to watch as her beloved aunt was murdered. He looked towards the house, smiling as the soft breeze carried the sweet scent of honeysuckle to him again. A frown formed as quickly as the smile and he remembered a strong sense of nausea the night before. He tried to remember why this scent would make him nauseous. Then the sheriff's voice caught his attention and he turned towards the older man.

"Mr. Larabee!"

Chris turned towards the jail and saw the sheriff standing in the doorway. He changed direction and slowly walked over to him.

"Sheriff."

"How's your friend?"

"Better. The doc says he needs to stay off his feet for a while."

The sheriff frowned as he looked at the gunslinger.

"Will he be able to testify when the circuit judge gets here?"

"Vin'll be there."

"Good. You look like you could use a coffee...got plenty." Thompson offered.

Larabee looked at the other man and knew he could trust him. He nodded once and followed the sheriff into the jail. He pulled a second chair up to the desk and watched as Thompson poured him a cup of coffee. The door to the back room that housed the cells was closed, but Chris could hear the sound of shuffling feet as Clark paced back and forth.

"Thanks," the blond said and sipped the strong black liquid. "Not bad."

"Carolyn makes the best coffee around." His eyes lifted to meet those of his guest and he smiled. "Say, have you had breakfast, Mr. Larabee? My wife has a tendency to make too much..."

"It's Chris, Sheriff, " the blond returned with a small smile, "and thanks, but I've eaten."

"Well, Chris, you're missing out on a treat, but I'm sure whatever Molly fed ya was up to her usual standards."

"She's good."

"That she is," the sheriff agreed and knew it was time to get down to the real reason he'd wanted to speak with the gunslinger. "What about the little girl, Chris? Will she be ready to testify?"

"She's frightened...misses her aunt." He noted, sipping on the fine brew.

"Think she'll be able to tell the judge what she saw?"

"It'll be hard for her, but I think she's okay to identify Clark. Just hope the judge doesn't want her goin' into detail about what she saw." The gunslinger couldn't help but feel angry at what the child would have to go through. He knew it would be like living the whole horrifying experience over again.

"Judge Spencer is a fair man. He won't let any harm come to the child, but he will want to know everything."

"Vin can tell him what happened."

"Did he see Clark murder the woman?" Thompson asked hoping they could spare the little girl having to testify.

"Haven't really had a chance to ask him what he saw."

The sheriff looked at the man seated across from him. Something about Larabee oozed danger, and he sensed the man would do anything to protect his friend. He picked up the coffee pot and refilled his cup before asking.

"Think he's up to talking to me?"

"Not sure. Doc says he needs to rest. Laudanum is helping some."

"Well, I'd like to talk to him while things are still fresh in his mind."

"Alright," Larabee said, resigned to the fact this man did need to talk to Vin Tanner sooner or later. He just wished it could have been later rather than sooner. The two men finished the coffee and stood up. They walked out of the office and Chris waited for the other man to close the door.

"What about Clark?"

"Jamie is sitting over there. He likes to call himself my deputy and keeps an eye on things whenever I leave."

"Kinda young..."

"He's 24 and knows what he's doing...just don't tell him I said that," Thompson said with a grin.

"Jamie, I'll be at Molly's if you need me!"

"All right, Sheriff!" the young man said, turning his attention back to the jail.

Each lost in thought, the pair walked towards the home at the end of the street.

Thompson nodded at the town's people and called greetings to them as they passed. He kept glancing at the gunslinger, knowing the people of the town would be asking questions about the newcomers. Most of them already knew about the murders, but not the details, and he needed to keep those secret until the judge arrived and the trial began.

Molly Richmond heard the door open and walked out of the kitchen. She smiled at the blond haired man and the sheriff.

"How's Mindy?" Larabee asked.

"She's doing just fine. Aren't ya Mindy?" she asked as the little girl joined her in the doorway.

"Chris, I'm helping Molly make cookies," the child said as she moved past the woman and wrapped her arms around the blond's leg.

"I can see that," the blond laughed as he easily lifted the child. He used his finger to wipe away the dough from her mouth.

"Oh, that's 'cause Molly says we need to taste it to make sure it got the right 'gredients. " Mindy said and smiled at him.

"I believe Molly is right," Larabee said and placed her back on the floor.

"Me and Molly are gonna make lots of cookies for you and Vin."

"That's great, Mindy. Now how about you finishing those cookies. I know I would love some and I bet they'd make Vin feel better too."

"Ya think so?" the child asked.

"Oh, I know he will," he looked at the owner of the boarding house and smiled as she took the little girl by the hand.

"Come on, Mindy, let's see if we can get some of them cookies in the oven."

"Can I taste the dough again?"

"Course ya can, but only if I can too," she smiled at the chuckle from the child as she led her into the kitchen.

"This way, Sheriff," Larabee said as he walked down the hall towards the room he shared with the tracker. He pushed open the door and smiled as he saw the almost serene look on the sleeping man's face. Vin was on his stomach, his hands under his head and his face turned slightly down and to the right. The gunslinger could see the towel still in place across the younger man's back. He turned to face the sheriff before easing the door partially closed. Chris was intent on asking him to come back later in the day when the soft Texan drawl met his ears.

"Quit...sneakin'...Lar'bee...ain't...sleep...in..."

Larabee frowned as he pushed the door open. Vin Tanner was a man who rarely slept deeply, but the laudanum should have kept him out for a while longer. The fact that he was awake now, was testament to how much his back was bothering him.

"How are you feeling, Vin?" the worried gunman asked.

"...fine..."

"Don't look fine."

"Still look better'n...yer...sorry...old...ass..." the tracker said, trying to lighten the worry on his friend's face.

Larabee couldn't help but smile at the softly spoken words. He walked over to his friend and sat in the chair by the bed so the younger man would not have to strain in order to see him.

"Feel like talking to the sheriff?" Larabee asked.

"He here?"

"Just outside."

"...'kay...," the tracker hissed.

"Sheriff," Larabee said, nodding to the bedside chair. He was glad to see the lawman had sense enough to close the door so the conversation wouldn't reach the child's ears.

Hank Thompson sat in the chair and studied the pale face looking sideways at him. Something about this young man struck him instantly. The accent and broken English spoke of an uneducated man, but there was an intelligence in the blue orbs. The sheriff realized there was more to the tracker than met the eye.

"What can I do fer ya, Sheriff?"

"Well, Mr. Tanner, I'd like you to tell me everything that happened when you caught up with the stage."

"Saw Clark draggin' somethin' inta the bushes...didn't know it was a woman at the time. The driver hangin' o'er the side and knew he's dead. Thar's a girl in the stage and she was cryin' and sayin' somethin' about her aunt," the tracker frowned as he tried to remember everything.

Chris could tell the sharpshooter was thinking about the dead woman and whether he could've done something to save her life. His eyes sent a silent message to the younger man. A message he hoped the tracker would understand and grab on to. You did everything you could, Vin.

"Go on," the sheriff said as the silence seemed to go on indefinitely.

"Knew Chris was comin' so I left the girl on the stage and chased Clark. Bastard had already stabbed the woman...she's dead," his voice was soft and filled with sadness as he remembered the image of the knife embedded in the woman's chest. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to ward off the image and the on coming pain. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked gratefully into a pair of tired sea green eyes. A new memory came to his mind, an image of the gunslinger sitting beside his bed, moaning as if caught in a nightmare.

"Here, Vin," Larabee said as he held a cup in front of his friend.

The sharpshooter eased painfully up on his elbows, wincing at the pain that spread through his back. He drank the offered liquid gratefully, glaring at the blond as the bitter taste of laudanum registered in his mind.

"You need it, Pard."

"Ain't argu'n...but ya coulda warned me." The tracker sank back onto the bed and waited for the discomfort to pass.

"I'll remember that next time," the blond said and moved out of the way in order for the sheriff to finish his questions.

"Did you actually see Clark stab the woman?" Thompson asked.

"Yeah, but I couldn't stop 'im. He pulled the knife back out an' we fought...tha's how I hurt my back. Twisted it the wrong way takin' that sonofabitch down...only he didn't stay down. Tha's when Chris showed up. Stopped Clark from usin' the blade on me." The tracker turned to Larabee and nodded his thanks.

"What happened then?"

"Chris can tell ya better'n I can."

The sheriff turned to the gunslinger and waited for him to continue the tale.

"I arrived at the stage, but couldn't see Vin or Clark. The child was screaming and I knew I needed to take care of her. She was hysterical and fought me at first, but I finally got her calmed down enough to find out what happened. She fainted a few minutes later and I left her there while I went to help Vin. Pushed through the brush and knew there was nothing I could do to help the woman. Clark had a knife and was about to use it on Vin. I couldn't get a clear shot of anything but his arm and I short the knife from his hand."

"Wondered why you didn't shoot to kill," the sheriff said.

"It crossed my mind, but there was no chance with him being so close to Vin and the two of them fighting."

"Okay, so you shot the knife out of his hand. What happened next?"

The blond looked at the injured man and they both smiled as they remembered what the murderer tried to do.

"Clark tried to blame the murder on Vin, said Vin attacked him. Bastard didn't know we rode together."

"Guess he was surprised," the sheriff said with a grin.

"Y...yeah....he...s...sure...was," the tracker said, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"I think that's all for today. You go on and get some rest, Mr. Tanner," the sheriff said sympathetically.

"Not much ch...oice," the Texan drawled as his eyes slid closed. He didn't feel the gunslinger ease the blanket up over him or hear the two men leave him alone in the room once more. A soft sigh issued from his lips as a final thought entered his mind before he slipped into a laudanum induced sleep. Instantly he was thrown into a nightmare. Visions of Chris Larabee's face locked in pain, his voice calling for help, yet receiving no answer. The dreams would plague his subconscious upon awakening, yet remain locked illusively beyond his reach.

Larabee and Thompson stood in front of the closed bedroom door and spoke softly, again keeping their voices low.

"Do you think Mindy could answer a couple of questions, Larabee?"

"Is it really necessary, Sheriff?"

"Well she's gonna have to answer them sooner or later."

"Later," he issued tersely, the father in him coming out. "She's been through hell and I'd hate to see her upset again."

"Alright, guess we can put it off until the judge gets here, but she's gonna have to talk about it at the trial."

"Wish there was some way we could spare her that."

"I do too, Chris. A child should not have to be put through that, but we need her testimony to remove any doubt that Clark did murder Tom and the woman."

"When did you say the judge will get here?"

"Should be here in a few days."

Larabee nodded as he turned his gaze on the closed bedroom door.

"Least that'll give Vin a chance to rest his back."

"He seems like a good man."

"He is. Saved my life a time or two."

Thompson heard the undertone of pride in the gunslinger's voice. "I hear you boys have done a fine job of cleaning up Four Corners."

"We did what had to be done."

"Yeah, well I'm sure Steven Travis would've been glad the place was cleaned up."

Larabee looked at the other man and frowned at the his words.

"You knew Travis?"

* "Yeah, I knew him when he first started the Clarion. Was there on business for Judge Spencer. Me and Carolyn visited there a time or two after that. Wasn't often enough though because of the distance." He knew Larabee was only partially listening to him and studied the face for a few seconds before continuing.

"We didn't keep in contact much, but I knew Steven and Mary went through some tough times with that paper. I'm glad she's kept it running. Heard you saved their boy's life and brought Steven's murderer to justice."

"We caught the bastards, but it was Billy who brought them to justice, least it was his testimony that did it. He's a tough little kid."

"What about Tanner?"

"What about him?" Larabee's glare turned deadly.

"Just wondered how you two became friends. I know he's got a price on his head..."

"This isn't Texas!" he snarled, his voice changing from cool to glacial as he glared at the man standing before him. It's my fault we can't prove it, he thought as a picture of Eli Joe raising a knife to Vin Tanner came to mind. He swallowed painfully as he realized that was the one time he wished he hadn't shot to kill, but Vin's life hung in the balance.

"I believe you, Chris, and if there's anything I can do to help just let me know."

"We'll handle it," he warned softly, as they walked towards the door.

Larabee's voice may have been soft, but there was no mistaking the underlying warning in it. Thompson realized he was better off leaving it alone for now. "I'll let you know when I hear from the judge, Chris."

"Alright, Sheriff. Thanks for not pushing it with Mindy," the blond said as he watched the man leave.

Thompson stood outside the door and wondered how a man's reputation could possibly be so wrong. He'd heard that Chris Larabee was a man with a black heart who didn't give a damn about anything or anyone. That was not the case, at least not from what he'd seen. The gunslinger's concern for the injured tracker and the child were perfect examples of a man whose soul was still intact in spite of his brief stint in darkness.

It was just past three p.m. the following day. Chris sat in the porch swing, nursing an ice cold glass of lemonade. Vin was still sleeping and he knew that was what his friend needed right now. O'Malley seemed like he knew what he was doing, but Chris wished Nathan Jackson was here. The former slave didn't have a certificate on his wall, but he did have what was needed to be a natural healer. Sometimes Jackson felt inadequate about his abilities, but the six men he rode with saw nothing inadequate in the kind-hearted man.

He took another sip of the tangy liquid and smiled as the door to the boarding house opened and Mindy Lawrence hurried out. Her brown hair was pulled back in a pony tail and her eyes were wide with excitement as she held out a plate with four misshaped cookies.

"Look what I made for you and Vin, Chris," she said, bouncing on her feet in delight as he reached out and took one of the golden brown sugar cookies. She watched expectantly as he bit into the still warm offering.

"...best cookie I ever tasted," the handsome blond praised with a wide smile, giving the pint-sized chef's eyes a sparkle.

"I made them especially for you and Vin. Molly says I'm a real good helper. She says she'll teach me how to make a cake tomorrow."

The child's words were spoken in a hurry and reminded Chris of a time when Sarah let Adam help her bake. His son had been just as excited by his accomplishment as Mindy, and Chris had forced down the burnt cookies, thinking they were the best he'd ever had. He faltered as the memory gained momentum and he realized that was the day before he'd lost his wife and son to the whims of a madwoman. The smile returned as he thought of the happiness he'd shared with his family in the few short years they'd been granted. He felt a hand touch his arm and looked into the child's soft brown eyes.

"Chris, why are you sad?"

He pulled her down beside him and took a deep breath before speaking, and watched as she placed the plate of cookies on floor beside them.

"I'm not sad, Mindy. I was just remembering something that happened."

"It must've been sad, 'cause your eyes got all wet and your mouth wasn't like it is now. I'm sad 'cause I lost my Ma and Pa and my auntie Fran," she said, tears filling her eyes as she looked at him.

"Well, Mindy, it's okay to feel sad, but you know your Pa and Ma wouldn't want you to be sad, would they?"

"N...No," she sniffed.

"And neither would your Auntie Fran, right?" Larabee held her close to him as soft sobs reached his ears.

"R...right," she hiccupped.

"Then we need to do as they would want us to. We need to smile and be happy because they'll always be with you."

"They will?" she asked, big brown eyes widening even further.

"Of course," he said lifting her up on his knee.

"When you think of them does it feel funny here?" He asked as he touched her chest.

"Feels all warm."

"That's because they are in your heart and that warm feeling is them telling you they love you."

"Really?" she asked excitedly.

"Really," Larabee nodded and felt her small arms wrap around his neck. Again he remembered Adam and the hugs he'd shared with his son. Hugs that would stay with him forever and he smiled as he felt a warmth surround his own heart.

"Who were you thinking about, Chris?" Mindy asked as she looked into the sea green eyes.

Larabee smiled as he placed a finger under her chin and answered honestly.

"I was thinking of my little boy. He was a lot like you...and loved baking cookies with his Ma."

"Where is he?" Mindy asked with childlike innocence.

"Him and his mother died a long time ago," Larabee answered, knowing the four years since their death wasn't long, yet it felt like he'd been without them forever.

"Do you get all warm here when you think about them?" Mindy asked, placing her hand over Chris' heart.

"Yes, I do," he said, a single tear forming in each eye and slipping out unnoticed.

The child smiled and wiped the moisture off his face as excited words tumbled from her mouth.

"Then they're with you too! So me and you don't need to cry no more! Right?"

"Right," the gunslinger laughed as he picked her up and swung her around. "Now why don't we see if Molly has any more lemonade and see if Vin's awake. I'm sure he'd love one of your yummy cookies."

"He would?"

"Vin's got a real sweet tooth and he's gonna love these cookies," the blond assured her as he set her on the ground.

Nothing moved in the desolate wastelands. No living thing grew in a perfect circle around the area where lush desert vegetation once grew in abundance. The bright colors of Apache plume, blue phacelia, desert dandelion were no longer in evidence. The heartiest cactus no longer grew in the dead soil. No animals came within the circle, no birds flew over the dead area, and not a single wildflower could be seen. Along the perimeter of the blackened area many bones could be found. Some recognizable, others just tiny reminders of the deadly ground they'd strayed into. The skull of a bobcat lay next to a common gopher, deadly enemies, yet both were taken by the evil that resided within the unholy ground. Eviscerated bodies of elk, jack rabbits, and even Mexican gray wolves lay scattered an equal distance inside the circle. Hawks, Crows, quail, owls, and Vultures dropped from the sky when entering the ring, as if they'd ran into an invisible wall. Gila Monsters, rattlesnakes, and king snakes slithered to their demise within the first few inches of the circle. There was nothing easy in their deaths, evidenced by the violent destruction of flesh, bone, and cartilage scattered in the area. Death came to anything that flew, walked, or crawled into the circle of corruption. A spot that some would call hell on earth, where evil stalked its prey in expectation of the taste of living flesh.

Yet something still lived within the grounds, something that clung to the human world, in hopes of someday finding the one soul that was lost so many years ago. The blackened sands shifted revealing a piece of debris long since dormant. The splinter of wood, the only visible remnant of the Inn that once loomed over the area seemed to shift. To come to life and twist in a small column of sand, seeking out that which had been missing since the structure had collapsed on the night of the ill fated party.

The party goers were long since dead, but their tormented screams continued to permeate the area. Succeeding in driving away even the tiny insect that came within distance of the ground the Inn once stood upon. Banshee-like wails rose and fell with the shifting sand, proof that Hell could sometimes reside upon earth. Again the splinter moved, this time pointing northeast, feeling a strong sense of light that had once been on the dark side. The ground pulsed as it felt the possibility of bringing back one who had seen the dark side, but had not been enthralled in the promise of revenge.

Demonic cries drowned out the screams of the lost souls it held within its grasp, taking power from the savaged remains that faded in and out of the darkness. Severed heads, broken limbs, ravaged, twisted bodies, rolled through the undulating ground as the promise of a new future seemed at hand.

A soft whisper escaped from the power of darkness, seeking out a soul who could help release them from their captivity.

"Help us!"