Ringo cocked the weapon…The other men turned, each reaching for his revolver but knowing they weren‘t fast enough…Chris glanced back over his shoulder, his arms full - holding his injured friend. He had no way of defending himself. His eyes grew wide and he braced himself for the searing impact of the bullet… A smile flashed across Ringo’s face. Sweet revenge…Guns began to slide from holsters… Ringo applied pressure to the trigger…

A single shot echoed in the small clearing, shattering the silence.

“Nooooo!” Buck screamed, powerlessly.

Ringo flew backwards and landed in an untidy heap. The echo of the mare’s leg died away. Stunned shouts left the regulators as they realized what had happened.

Chris swung his head back and watched the mare’s leg fall from Vin’s hand.

“Jesus, Vin.“

Tanner drew in a tired breath and his eyes sent a silent message of reassurance. It’s okay. I had your back, Chris. An agonized groan shuddered through the injured man and then his eyes closed and his body went limp. He had nothing left to fight with.

“Vin?” Chris shook his friend gently. When there was no response, Larabee’s worst fears rose up. “VIN?” His attempts to wake his friend became desperate.

“Chris!” Nathan yelled. “Hold him still.” Jackson felt for a pulse and found a weak, racing one. “He’s still with us,” the healer assured the others with relief. Everyone had crowded around Vin once more, their emotions see-sawing. Surprise had become relief and then deep concern once again. “I’ve got to get that bullet out. Give me some room.”

Chris stared at the healer in horror. “He’s too weak, Nathan. He won’t survive it!” The declaration resounded in the clearing and put voice to the thoughts of all.

Jackson flicked his eyes to Sanchez, sending an insistent request for assistance. Chris was losing control and right now, Nathan didn’t have time to deal with him. Larabee needed to be removed so the healer could concentrate and do what was required to save Tanner’s life.

“Brother, you need to let Nathan work. How about you let me get in there and you can head off with Ezra and Buck to…” The aggression on Larabee’s face stole the rest of Josiah’s suggestion.

“Chris, it’s got to come out,” Nathan repeated, firmly. “It’s the only chance he’s got.”

“Nathan knows what he’d doing, Chris,” Buck affirmed, reaching for his friend’s shoulder.

Larabee cursed, nodded and then directed his attention to the limp bundle in his arms. Vin’s breathing was so shallow… his skin so grey… his life poised so precariously. How had Chris let this happen? Vin should never have ridden out on his own. Larabee had known the dangers, so why hadn’t he done something to protect his friend, if not from bounty hunters, then from the young man’s own stubborn determination to stare adversity in the face? Was protecting Vin’s pride or respecting his desire for independence more important than saving his life? Or had it been a case of Chris selfishly shielding himself by ensuring he didn’t get close enough to truly care?

Confused and for the first time in three years, terrified, Chris lowered Vin down onto the saddles as directed. Concerned hands drew him to his feet and began to drag him away. At some point, Chris became aware of what was happening and pulled free of Buck‘s best intentions.

Larabee crouched beside Sanchez who had taken his place and watched as Jackson’s skilled hand sliced into Tanner’s flesh. Vin groaned and his body twitched but he didn’t wake. Chris picked up his friend’s hand and squeezed it firmly, leaning down to Vin’s ear. “Hang on. Nathan won’t be long.”

As the healer’s scalpel connected with the slug, Vin moaned again. Chris encircled the tracker’s fist in both of his hands. “He’s almost done. Hang on… just.. hang on.” A plea from a man whose soul had been buried for three long years.

Chris continued to silently plead for Vin’s life, oblivious to all that was going on around him. Nathan completed removing the bullet, stitched Vin’s side and with Josiah’s help, bandaged it. He then put some stitches into some of the deeper lacerations in Tanner’s chest before bandaging them.

Throughout, Chris held Vin’s lifeless hand firmly, the connection anchoring Larabee‘s hopes. His mind was moving in a vacuum, his emotions doing battle to understand.

“Chris… Chris… Chris?” Nathan repeated.

Dazed, Larabee looked up at the healer.

“We’re ready to shift him into the wagon.”

“Wagon?” Chris mumbled, searching for it.

“We couldn’t get it in here,” Ezra offered, gently.

“We’re going to need to carry him out of here. The wagon isn’t far,” Buck assured.

Chris drew in a deep breath and his mind returned to reality. “How are we going to do it?”

“We need to protect those stitches,” Nathan ordered.

Surprised, Chris studied the bandages. He didn’t remember Nathan stitching or bandaging anything. He didn’t remember anyone leaving to collect a wagon. How long had he been dwelling in limbo?

“You alright?” Nathan checked.

Chris grunted and forced himself to focus. He needed to organise this. “We can use the blankets to make a stretcher.”

“Already done,” J.D. stated, pointing.

Chris blinked. “Well, don’t just stand there, get it over here.”

**********

Vin didn’t stir during the short trip through the trees to the wagon. The vehicle was crude, but there was a mattress laying in the back. Once Ernie Fairweather was told what the wagon was needed for, he’d insisted on the men taking the blankets and mattress from his own bed to make the journey more comfortable for ‘that young fella who saved my herd by chasing off them rustlers’.

With great care, Vin was lifted up into the back of the wagon and laid on the mattress, the extra blankets used to cover him.

For a moment, all waited as Nathan examined the silent tracker. “He’s okay.”

“Buck,” Chris ordered, indicating he wanted Wilmington to handle the wagon.

Larabee pointed to Ringo’s horse which had been located and which now was carrying his corpse. “J.D.”

“I got it, Chris.”

Josiah lashed Nathan and Buck’s horses to the back of the wagon.

“We’re ready, Mr. Larabee,” Ezra called.

Larabee nodded and mounted his horse. “Let’s get him home.”

**********

Jerry Flint rushed down the street and flew into the Clarion News, closing the door behind him. His chest was heaving despite the short distance. He wasn’t built for running, his short frame supporting the rewards of too much whiskey over too many years.

Mary looked up from her desk, startled. “Jerry?”

The blacksmith moved to the window and peered out through the curtain.

“Jerry?” Mary repeated, rising to her feet.

“The seven. Where are they?” Jerry demanded without turning. His breathing continued to gallop despite the reduction in activity.

“I’m not sure.” Mary had seen the regulators ride out in a hurry after placing some strangers in jail but she had no idea why. The newspaper woman had been going to head down to the sheriff’s office to investigate, but a local cattle owner had come in and asked her to put an advertisement in her paper and she had been so busy preparing it she hadn’t had time to do anything else.

“A fella just rode into town.” Jerry moved to the second window, scanning the street with nervous leaps from one foot to the other.

“A lot of people ride into town.”

The blacksmith glanced back at the woman and beckoned her over. “He’s asking about Vin. I reckon he’s another bounty hunter.”

Mary’s face flushed with concern. “Where?” she asked, joining the plump man at the window.

“Don’t know where he went. He came into my shed asking about Vin. I told him I hadn’t seen him. You know, Mr. Larabee really needs to do something about this. People have heard about what happened earlier in the week and now all these bounty hunters really think there is a bounty on Vin’s head.”

Mary licked her lips nervously. She knew the truth of the matter. Thankfully, she was one of only a few. It appeared Ezra’s claim of mistaken identity was still holding firm for the moment. With the Seven out of town, someone needed to handle this before it got out of hand and Ezra’s little deception wilted. “Perhaps I should talk to him?”

Jerry glanced at her with wide eyes. “He ain’t the sort of fella a woman should be talking to, Ma’am. Real rough looking and he don’t look like he knows what a bath is. I think we should wait for the Seven.”

Mary set her shoulders. “Mr. Flint, we can not rely on Mr. Larabee and his associates for everything. Please describe this bounty hunter to me and I will explain the situation to him.”

**********

Buck glanced back over his shoulder, checking on his charge. Nathan was holding one of Vin’s shoulders to stop him from moving around too much. “How’s he doing?” Buck called over the top of the wheels and horse’s hoofs.

“Okay,” Nathan shouted back.

Chris rode up beside the wagon and let his eyes settle on Vin. Okay. Okay compared to what? A dead horse?! he reflected with frustration. Vin looked so far from okay that Chris couldn’t help thinking Nathan was losing his faculties. Larabee raised his gaze to scrutinize the frown entrenched on the healer.

Jackson became aware he was the subject of inspection and nodded to Chris. “His breathing’s settled a little, but it’s still weak. The stitches are holding.”

“He’s okay?” Chris clarified

The frown deepened. “He’s doing as well as I can hope at the moment,” Jackson called without emotion.

Larabee and Jackson continued to stare at each other. Chris wasn’t sure that was good enough. Reading the other man’s thoughts, Nathan added. “I can’t do anything more, Chris.”

**********

Mary walked the town until she found the stranger Jerry Flint described. The smell wafting from the man was putrid. Clearly, neither he nor his clothes had been washed in months. The newspaper woman forced a pleasant smile.

“I’m Mary Travis. Editor of the local newspaper. I’ve been told you’re searching for someone. Perhaps I can help?”

The bounty hunter looked Mary up and down appraising her better qualities and then leered at her, showing his four yellow, broken teeth. “I’ll bet you could help me, sweetheart.” He got to his feet and began circling the pretty woman. “You are one fine looking lady.”

“Thank you. Now, Mr…?”

“Donaldson. Albert Donaldson.” He wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve and flashed her another of his most dazzling smiles.

“Mr. Donaldson, who was it you were looking for?”

“Love, I’ve been looking for you all my bleeding life!” He stepped closer and Mary gagged, the man’s body odour so overpowering.

“Mr. Donaldson, I am Mrs. Travis.”

The bounty hunter grinned and stepped back. “Yep, I’ll bet you are. Fine looking woman like you wouldn’t have been left on the shelf.”

Mary took two large steps back and sucked in some relatively fresh air. “Who are you looking for, Mr. Donaldson?”

“A fella called Vin Tanner. You know him, Mrs. Travis?” His emphasis on the word Mrs. appeared to amuse him and he laughed, his hot, fowl breath hitting Mary in the face.

“And what is your interest in Mr. Tanner?” Mary asked, physically trying to hold her lunch down.

“He’s an old friend of mine. I told him that if I was in these parts, I’d look him up. So, you know him?”

“Mr. Donaldson, I am aware of the rumour concerning Mr. Tanner having a bounty on his head. However, it is a case of mistaken identity. Our sheriff should be returning to town shortly. Perhaps you’d like to talk with him?”

“I’d rather talk with you, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Donaldson, but I’m afraid I am very busy. I would like to repeat that if you are searching for Mr. Tanner because of these rumours of a bounty on his head, I suggest you don’t waste your time. As I’ve stated, that was a case of mistaken identity. Please feel free to ask any of the town’s residents if you don’t take my word for it.”

“I might just do that, sweetheart.”

Mary swallowed, backed up and then turned and strode away quickly. She sucked in some air after holding her breath for the past minute. Knowing she hadn’t been successful in convincing the bounty hunter, she headed for the sheriff’s office to question the prisoners for some clue as to where the Seven had gone and when they could be expected back.

George Harris watched the woman go and headed for his horse. He’d overheard the strange conversation and felt his boss may be interested - very interested. After all, Guy Royal hated the Seven with a passion… particularly Vin Tanner. This was just the sort of news that would make Royal’s day.

**********

Mary rushed out of the newspaper’s office when she spotted Chris riding in. The sun was setting and causing long shadows to drift across the buildings. The few people still on the street paused to watch the group ride in.

“Chris,” Mary called with relief. She had been unsuccessful in convincing either of the men in the jail to tell her anything. “There’s…” her voice faded as she watched Larabee climb into the back of the wagon. “Chris?” she murmured, taking the scene in. “Oh, no.”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Travis,” Josiah stated briskly as he pushed passed her. “Getting him up those stairs isn’t going to be easy. How about I take the top half of him and one of you support his legs?”

Mary swallowed and watched as Ezra and Buck crowded close to the wagon to help.

“I’ll take this fella to the undertaker,” J.D. called, leading Ringo’s horse away.

“What happened?” Mary asked Ezra when he stepped back out of the way.

Standish flicked his emotional green eyes to her. “A group of bounty hunters caught up with him this morning.” Ezra shook his head in disgust. Like Chris and Buck, he was beginning to blame himself for allowing Vin to leave the safety of Four Corners without someone to watch for trouble.

“Is it bad?”

Ezra nodded. “I’m afraid so. Bullet wound and he was attacked by a cougar. He‘s been lying out there for hours.” Ezra stumbled over the last few words, again reflecting on how easily they could have overlooked their friend who had buried himself in a desperate attempt to survive.

Mary covered her mouth in shock and horror as Nathan and Chris lowered Vin into Josiah’s strong arms, Buck taking the injured man’s legs. The two men in the back of the wagon jumped down and Chris moved in to help Josiah with the burden. Between them, they cradled the silent man wrapped in blankets and headed for Nathan’s clinic above the livery. The healer raced on ahead to prepare the bed.

Ezra placed his hand on Mary’s arm, noting the tears of fear on her cheeks. Tanner’s state had been something of a shock to her... to Ezra as well. His friend’s condition had deteriorated considerably during the trip home. No longer simply pale, Vin’s skin had a dreadful grey blue tinge. He was so still. There was barely sign of breathing.

Mary acknowledged Ezra’s support with a quiet “thank you.” She blinked and wiped her eyes and then remembered what she had rushed out to tell Chris. “There’s a bounty hunter in town looking for Vin. I tired to convince him it was a case of mistaken identity, but I don’t think he believed me.”

“Where is he?” Ezra snapped. He hadn’t meant to respond so aggressively, but all of the sudden the valve containing his emotions released. He had someone on which to vent his rage - for it was rage that he was feeling.

“In the saloon.” Standish turned and marched off. “No, Ezra, wait. I…” Mary watched him go and then raced up the stairs arriving on the landing just as Vin was being carried through the door into Nathan’s room.

Moments later, Buck and Josiah exited.

“Ma’am,” both men greeted, solemnly.

“Ezra,” Mary stated, quickly.

“Ezra?” Josiah asked.

“A bounty hunter in the saloon. He’s looking for Vin and Ezra’s gone on his own. I…”

Both Josiah and Buck shot around her and dashed for the stairs.

Mary approached the door to the clinic apprehensively. In the limited light inside she could see both Nathan and Chris leaning over Vin.

Chris looked up and spotting her, he said something to Nathan and then strode out to meet her. “Mary?”

“How is he?”

Chris glanced back over his shoulder. “He’s been a hell of a lot better.” The words were hushed and the tone strained.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Larabee turned back to the woman and shook his head. “Nathan says we’ve just got to wait. He’s removed the bullet and dressed the wounds.”

“Ezra mentioned that it happened this morning,” Mary checked incredulously.

Chris sighed, his heavy heart clearly evident. “Yeah, as he was leaving Miner’s Gully. A couple of bounty hunters shot him and tried to ride him down. He gave them a hell of a chase.”

Mary was appalled. Jerry Flint’s words rang in her ears. “He can’t live like this. Always with the chance someone is going to…”

“It won’t happen again,” Chris growled, cutting her off. Mary was taken back by the venom in the gunfighter’s voice.

Shouts from the street below drew their attention. Josiah appeared dragging a man by the scruff of his neck. Unceremoniously, he dumped the dripping wet bounty hunter on his horse and slapped the animal on the rump, sending it galloping out of town.

Larabee looked toward the saloon where he spotted Buck and J.D. pinning a struggling Ezra to a wall. Chris frowned, but watched relieved when the pair released their friend and the trio began talking, finally turning and heading inside together.

“Another bounty hunter?” he asked Mary.

“Yes. That’s the sixth one in three days.”

“It’ll pass in time. A few more days and people won’t take any notice of the rumours.”

Mary agreed, but until that time, things would remain tense. “Would you like something to eat?”

Chris shook his head. “Thanks.” Without further comment, he disappeared back into the clinic

**********

The saloon had returned to its boisterous self after the ruckus between one of the regulators and a stranger. In the corner, Buck and Ezra sat quietly. J.D. returned to the table with a tray of glasses and a full bottle of whiskey.

“Thanks, Kid,” Buck acknowledged, filling a glass and pushing it across to Ezra. Standish glanced down at it, his paled face still tight with rage.

“I must apologise for my behaviour. I am not given to such offish displays of emotion.”

Buck nodded. “We know,” he whispered.

“I’m not sure I know what happened. One moment I was talking to him and the next…” His voice drifted off as he struggled to keep his mind off the image of Vin laying so still. Realizing the other two men were staring, he mumbled, “Perhaps I am losing my mind.”

Buck smiled and glanced at J.D. “He’s finally realized."

Ezra lifted his gaze from the patch of table that had absorbed his attention.

“Hell, Ezra. We thought you lost your marbles ages ago,” J.D. chuckled, trying to raise his friend’s spirits.

“This coming from two men who think that passing wind at will is an accomplishment to be proud of.”

Buck’s smile matured. Ezra was starting to sound like himself again. “Are you saying it’s not?”

Ezra snorted and returned to staring at the table. Again he became quiet for some time. “He was after the money,” Standish whispered. “He spoke like that other cretin did. As if Vin was some sort of animal. As if his life meant nothing.”

J.D. nodded, the smile on his lips dissolving. “It. That bounty hunter kept calling Vin, it.”

“Okay, boys,” Buck scolded. “That’s enough. Let it go.”

“I can’t!” Ezra shouted. Realising he had raised his voice, he immediately apologised. “I don’t know what’s got into me.”

“We’ve got a friend who’s fighting for his life because of some bastards who judged him based on a piece of paper,” Buck explained, draining his own glass and then refilling it.

“A fair point, but that does not account for my actions in here a few minutes ago.”

“Hell, Ezra. The man smelt worse than Josiah’s socks. I reckon that was reason enough to want to belt the crap out of him.”

Ezra smiled. “Is that why Josiah dumped him in the drinking trough?”

“Yeah, he said he was in desperate need of a bath,” J.D. giggled.

The conversation ceased and the atmosphere became sombre as each man was consumed by his own concern. The image of their partner struggling to draw breath and bundled in blankets sallow and shivering was dwelling on their minds.

“How long before we’ll know if Vin’ll be okay?” the youngest asked.

Buck shrugged. “I don’t know. It’ll be a while. He’s pretty messed up.”

“But you think he’ll be okay, don’t you?” J.D. whispered.

Ezra and Buck exchanged a brief glance. Neither was prepared to answer that particular question.

**********

On a large ranch some miles out of town, Guy Royal sat in a rocking chair under the stars, listening to what his ranch hand was saying. “So, you’re saying that Tanner has a bounty on his head?”

“Well, that newspaper woman said it was mistaken identity but I ain’t so sure. I heard there was some sort of problem a few days ago.”

Guy Royal’s brow furrowed with thought. “A bounty.” A smile spread across the rancher‘s lined features. “Well, isn’t that interesting. We may just have to do something about that.”

**********

Chris watched as Nathan hovered over Vin, checking the bandages and tucking the blanket around the unconscious man. It was almost four hours since they had laid Vin in the bed but his condition had changed little. If anything, it had deteriorated further. Nathan had taken to checking his patient every few minutes and muttering under his breath. Chris had perched himself on a stool on one side of Tanner’s bed and sat staring at the floor, only raising his chin to watch the healer tend to his friend.

Jackson placed his hand on Tanner’s brow and the frown that had been on his face since finding his friend disappeared and was replaced by a look of real trepidation.

“Nathan?”

“He’s developing a fever. I guess it’s to be expected. Chris, wet that rag and bring it over here.”

Larabee picked up the piece of cloth indicated, took it to the basin, wet it and then handed it to the healer. Jackson laid it across Vin’s brow.

“It’s going to be a long night?” Chris asked.

Nathan sank down into one of the chairs beside the bed, rested his elbows on the edge of the mattress, clasped his hands and leaned his chin on them. “It’s going to be longer than one night before we know if he’s going to pull through this, Chris.”

Larabee returned to his stool on the other side of Vin. “As sick as he was, he outwitted that bounty hunter.”

“Another man would have bled to death. If he hadn’t cauterised the wound, he would have died within a few hours. Hell, he even fought off a cat. How the hell he shot that bounty hunter, I don‘t know. He was barely conscious.”

Chris lowered his face. “He was watching my back.”

Nathan looked up sharply, recognising the implication. “This isn’t anyone’s fault, Chris. We got the people responsible.”

“That doesn’t help him though, does it?” The growl echoed around the small room. Both men fell silent for some time.

“I’m hungry. I’m going to head downstairs to get something to eat. Are you comfortable sitting with him for a few minutes?” Jackson asked.

Larabee nodded, but didn’t look up. Nathan rose to his feet and headed for the door. “Chris, he rode out of here on his own. He knew the risks and he accepted them.” When these words failed to provoke a response, Nathan shook his head and left the room. Only then did Chris look up and allow his eyes to fall to Vin’s ashen face.

“It isn’t your time, Vin. If it was, you wouldn’t have fought so hard to survive. You have to keep fighting. You hear me?”

The only sound in the room was Vin’s soft, wheezed breathing.

Chris shut his eyes briefly. Vin had been there to watch his back. Chris couldn’t forgive himself for not being there when Tanner had needed the same from him.

Larabee ran his hand through his hair and then looked down at his friend again. He reached out and picked up the tracker’s callused hand in his own. The physical contact provided him with some comfort. Vin was still alive and still fighting.

“I’ve got your back,” Chris whispered.

**********

Within an hour, Vin was battling a high fever. Nathan continued to sponge the young man’s face, arms and chest to try to control it, but the furnace in his patient was relentless. During the period, Vin hadn’t moved in any way outside of the now regular rise and fall of his bandaged chest.

Jackson sighed and put the sponge down. He glanced over at the black clad statue across the bed. Like Vin, Chris had failed to move or speak. The only sign of life was the occasional flick of his eyes down to the fist he was holding securely.

Hearing steps on the landing, Nathan got to his feet and walked out to greet the visitor.

“How is he?” Ezra asked quietly, peering over the healer’s shoulder into the candle lit room.

Nathan moved to the railing and leaned on it with both hands. He lifted his eyes to the starless sky and answered, “Still hanging in there.”

Ezra joined him but neither spoke for some time.

“I don’t think he’s going to make it,” Jackson admitted in a hushed whisper. He had been thinking about it all evening. Considering what Vin had been through and the gradual deterioration in his condition over the past few hours, Nathan had been starting to doubt his patient’s chances.

Ezra turned and leaned back against the railing, expelling a long breath of defeat.

Jackson eyed his companion carefully. He and Ezra shared an unusual friendship. They agreed on very little and cultural differences should have seen them enemies and yet, somehow they were friends. “Are you okay?” Nathan noted the letter Ezra held and recognized it as the one his mother had sent him. The healer returned his attention to the dark sky. “I’m sorry. I know how much it meant to you.”

“Pardon?” Ezra asked, looking over at his friend.

Nathan met his gaze with genuine sympathy. “I heard about the game. If you’d stayed, you would have won.”

“On the contrary, I would have lost something far more important.” Ezra’s eyes were drawn to the bed inside the clinic.

Nathan sighed again. “We may still lose him.”

Ezra stared down at the letter. How wrong he’d been. He’d thought that winning the money and starting a new life in San Francisco was the most important thing in the world - everything he’d ever wanted. Now, he knew what true longing was… wanting something with every fibre of his existence. Nothing seemed to have any significance in comparison to the longing he had now. All he desired was for Vin Tanner to pull through this. It had taken something like this for Ezra to recognize that his life long dream wasn’t some fancy saloon, but a place to belong and friends he could depend on. Despite the dust and the simple and sometimes frustrating lifestyle, Ezra realized this backward little town had become more than a brief stopover. As for friends he could depend on, no man could ask for better. A place to call home and people who cared - that was his inner most desire. He’d found both here. Two things worth fighting for.

“I have almost one hundred and twenty dollars. Technically it isn’t all mine, but if there is any way you could use it to help - to buy medicines or bring in another physician?”

“Maybe a real doctor could do something,” Nathan whispered.

Ezra reached for his friend’s arm. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know,” Nathan acknowledged, patting Ezra’s shoulder. “There’s nothing any of us can do. He’s so weak. Hell, he shouldn’t be alive. If he hadn’t cauterised the wound, he would have bled to death.”

“How could a man do something like that to himself?” Ezra shuddered.

“Survival is a powerful motivation.”

Standish nodded. “Is there anything I can get you?

Nathan shook his head. “I need to go back. Did you want to come in and see him?”

Ezra’s face clouded with alarm. “No. I… I’ll wait.” He turned quickly and disappeared into the darkness. Nathan was stunned and found himself reflecting on Ezra’s actions. Ezra Standish, a man who insisted on the world believing he was a shallow being who cared only for himself, was unable to face his friend for fear of losing him.

Nathan paused as he was entering the clinic. Chris had picked up the sponge and was wiping Vin down. Jackson was relieved . He had been starting to worry about Larabee’s state of mind.

“How is he?”

“Still burning up,” Larabee murmured, redipping the sponge.

Nathan leaned over his patient and laid his hand on his brow. “It’s getting worse.”

“How long before you expect it to break?” Chris asked, sponging Vin’s shoulders. When Nathan didn’t reply, he repeated the question, pausing to look at the healer.

“I don’t know, Chris,” Jackson whispered, turning away.

“Nathan?”

Jackson busied himself on the other side of the room, hoping the question would go away.

“Nathan?”

Slowly the healer turned, lines of anxiety and grief pinched around his eyes. “I’m… He’s getting worse, Chris. We can’t ignore that.”

Larabee’s face reflected complete and total confusion. “I realize he’s getting worse but that’s what happens with fever. It gets worse before it gets…” Nathan had lowered his gaze to the floor. “Nathan?… For God’s sake, you’re not saying you think…?”

“Chris, this isn’t just fever.” Nathan walked across to the stunned man and took the sponge from him. “Vin lost a lot of blood. I’m not sure he’s strong enough to survive if his fever gets any worse.”

“Strong enough! STRONG ENOUGH! Nathan, he rode for hours with that bullet in him. Fought off a bounty hunter and a cat and was smart enough to outwit that bastard hunting him. You don’t think he’s strong enough?!” The volume of Chris’ voice had gradually increased until he was shouting.

“Chris,” Nathan pleaded. “Don’t you see? That’s what I mean. He’s exhausted. He…”

“He’s strong enough,” Chris growled, his eyes lighting up with fire as he snatched the sponge back. “He didn’t go though all of that just to lay here now and die. He‘s strong enough.”

Jackson stepped back and watched as Chris sponged his friend with great determination. “Chris, I didn’t mean that… I just think… you need to realize that isn’t a case of Vin being strong. Hell, I know how strong he is. He cauterised that wound himself and then climbed back on his horse. All I’m saying is that maybe… maybe after all that he’s been through, no man would have anything left to fight the fever with.”

“If he didn’t have anything left, he would have been dead when we found him,” Chris growled. Larabee paused and glared across at the healer. “He was strong enough to watch my back… to save my life and he was barely conscious.” In that statement, Nathan saw the truth. Larabee was harbouring guilt. In his eyes he had failed Vin. Now, he was determined to save Vin’s life.

“How about we get another sponge and I’ll help you?” It was an apology of sorts. The tense atmosphere dissipated.

Larabee swallowed and his head bobbed. “Yeah. I… I never meant to shout at you, Nathan.”

“I know.”

The rest of the night passed slowly, Vin’s fever remaining high. Just after dawn, the unconscious man had a string of visitors, each of the boys distressed by what they saw. Tanner’s body was covered in a fine layer of perspiration, his hair matted and his body deathly still. Vin’s tanned skin had lost its healthy glow and was replaced by a colour none of the men could describe. Of greatest concern was the look on Nathan’s face. It spoke volumes.

At about nine a.m. another man who traded in human life rode into town hunting for five hundred dollars. J.D. raced up to warn the pair in the clinic to tell them that Ezra and Buck were going to deal with the unwanted guest. To his surprise, Chris, who hadn’t moved from Vin’s side since he had dug his friend out from under the dead leaves, rose to his feet and marched out of the room.

“Oh, hell,” J.D. murmured to Nathan before following.

Chris descended the stairs with even strides. “Where?” he asked as J.D. caught up. The younger man pointed to a stranger coming out of Potter’s. Across the street, Buck and Ezra stepped down from the boardwalk of the saloon but stopped when they spotted Larabee.

“Chris is going to deal with it,” Buck murmured.

“No, Mr. Larabee is going to seek revenge from every flea bitten animal who has the audacity to enter our fair town in search of his best friend.”

“That‘s what I said,” Buck agreed.

Larabee strode down the street, the bounty hunter noticing him. Chris stopped a few feet from the man who was holding a wanted poster bearing Vin’s image.

The bounty hunter nodded a greeting. “I’m looking for a fella by the name of Vin Tanner.”

“You’ve found him,” Chris snarled.

The bounty hunter’s eyes widened and then he dropped his gaze to examine the picture.

“Bad likeness,” Larabee growled, pulling his duster back to reveal his pearl handled gun.

The other man swallowed and backed up. It wasn’t the gun. It was the eyes. He’d never seen a man’s eyes look that violent. “Yeah. Excuse me.” He raced for his horse, leaped onto it and spurred it out of town without looking back.

“Lucky,” Buck stated.

“A very wise decision on his part,” Ezra agreed.

Both men watched Larabee climb the stairs to the clinic.

“Mr. Larabee is not dealing with this very well,” Ezra pointed out. “Perhaps you should…”

Buck patted Ezra’s back and nodded. “Yeah. I’m just not sure what to say.”