Chris Larabee leaned against the livery door, whittling contentedly and watching the street without real interest. All was quiet. All had been quiet for the last week, something that was rather unusual for Four Corners.

Since Larabee and his companions’ recent run in with Don Pablo, word had spread and those entering town did so on their best behaviour. For the first time since the seven men had signed on to protect the unruly settlement, there was a true sense of calm and the peacekeepers were taking advantage of it. Josiah was spending more time at the Indian reservation and Chris was enjoying longer periods at his shack. The others stayed closer to town, though Vin had a tendency to disappear for ‘jaunts in the wilderness,’ to quote Ezra.

Larabee spotted the Texan exit Potter’s Store and pause, scanning the street with intense, but wary scrutiny. Chris smiled with understanding and some amusement. Vin didn’t trust anyone or anything. Perhaps that was why Chris liked him so much. To most, Vin Tanner was an enigma. Someone they knew little about and had little interest in investigating further. Woman liked what they saw, and men wrote him off as a scruffy, know-nothing buffalo hunter. Chris knew such assessments only scratched the surface. Underneath, Tanner was a dangerous man. Vin blended into the background easily, which was far from an accident. He was a survivor and his exceptional ability to go unnoticed had kept him alive. He said little -- but then, he didn’t need to. Vin's eyes could communicate all he needed in a single glance. Words were superfluous. Or at least, that was what Chris had found.

Larabee recognized a lot of himself in Tanner. Vin was on the run from the law; Chris was running from his memories. Vin was wary of the world; Chris had shut out the world. Vin had a devilish sense of humour and Chris had the same, or was rediscovering his own in Vin’s company.

Chris didn’t understand why he felt so totally at ease with this quiet man he‘d only known a handful of days, but he did. The strange thing was, he knew Vin felt the same way, though they’d never actually discussed it. As a matter of fact, Larabee realized he hadn’t really given much thought to the strange depth of friendship he shared with Tanner. Why did he trust Vin so absolutely? He’d never felt such confidence in anyone. The nearest he could recall were his feelings for Sarah -- not the romance, but the closeness. He’d loved Sarah with his entire heart, and while trust was an important part of that, what he felt with Vin was very different. It was impossible for him to explain, even to himself, yet he felt it was important that he try.

As he considered, he decided that part of it was because he almost felt as though he ‘knew’ Vin. Not ’knew’ as in acquaintance or friendship, but ’knew’ in a far more profound and perhaps even spiritual sense. Chris frowned. His faith in anything he couldn’t confirm through his own senses had been all but destroyed in the fire that had taken his family. Yet, he felt he needed to acknowledge that there was something nebulous about his rapport with Vin Tanner. Something ‘beyond‘. Something ‘more‘. Something ‘right.’

Halfway up the street, the object of Larabee’s reflection stood nonchalantly, listening and looking with more than his ears and eyes. Instinct warned him he was being watched and yet, there was no anxiety. All of which had to mean… Tanner’s gaze swept to the right and settled on Chris. His left eyebrow rose in silent question. Larabee inclined his head, and Vin stepped off the boardwalk and headed toward his companion. His long, easy strides didn’t betray the ever-alert hunter hidden under the coat of skins.

As Tanner passed the door of the Standish Tavern, Inez stepped onto the boardwalk and called out to him. Vin stopped and tipped his hat politely. Chris watched his new friend with interest, his gaze narrowing when he noted the almost predatory look in Inez's dark eyes. Her body language spoke volumes.

A smile spread across the gunfighter’s face. So, that was the way the wind blew. Considering Vin had been ribbing Chris over the attention a certain newspaper reporter was paying him, Larabee found the little scene playing out in front of him quite appealing.

After a few moments, the tavern manager affectionately placed her hand on the sharpshooter’s arm. Tanner smiled, touched the brim of his hat and continued toward Chris.

As Vin closed the gap, Chris raised himself upright and smirked, “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that Inez…”

Vin snorted. “She just keeps thankin’ me for…” Chris’ grin matured into a full smile. “Shut-up, Larabee.”

Chris bounced his eyebrows and Vin shook his head, a grin forming on his own unshaven face. “You headin' out?”

“Yeah. You still all right to collect those things if they come in on the stage?”

“No problem. I’ll drop them off tomorrow and then meet you between ten and noon.”

They gripped each other's forearm. Neither used such a symbol lightly, for a symbol it was. Shaking hands tied up your gun hand -- a dangerous practise in these parts. So any handshake was a sign of great trust. Gripping another’s forearm, on the other hand, was a gesture beyond mere trust. It was a symbol of brotherhood. From the first time the offer had been made, it had not been a conscious decision on either man’s part. Rather, it had felt natural. ‘Right’. It echoed the inexplicable bond they shared.

Chris tipped his hat and then headed into the livery, calling back, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. But I’d be careful. She’s a fiery woman.”

Vin chuckled. “Mind your own damn business, Larabee.”

**********

The morning sun rose over the hills, quickly warming the day. Vin dismounted and gave Peso a friendly rub. Untying the bag containing the few bits and pieces that had arrived on the stage for Chris, Tanner tossed it over his shoulder.

“Won’t be long,” he told the horse. He paused and looked at Peso with tilted head and flashing blue eyes. The horse’s head bounced up and down and Vin chuckled. “One day you’ll answer me.” He started whistling tunelessly as he strode across to the silent shack.

Vin was happy -- happier than he had been for a long time. Today, he and Chris planned to go fishing. It had been months since he had done something for the sheer pleasure of it. As a matter of fact, apart from his and Chris’ last fishing trip three days earlier, he couldn’t remember the last time. Since picking up the bounty, he had spent his nights lying awake, listening to every sound, and his days looking over his shoulder. That had changed over the past few weeks. Now, he slept -- perhaps not soundly, but at least he slept -- thanks to the six men standing at his back. He sensed they would stand in front of him if he asked. He’d never met or trusted men like them. When it came to Chris, trust was only a part of it. The rest, Vin couldn’t explain, but unlike Larabee, he didn’t see any need to. Some things a man should just accept on faith.

With a twinge of envy, he thought of Larabee already out by the creek catching all of the biggest fish. Vin smirked. Then again, Chris was about as accomplished at fishing as he was at ballet dancing. Vin was truly looking forward to accidentally knocking his friend into the water. He could already picture it -- Larabee’s scowl destroyed by water running down his face. The fact that it was a dare from Buck meant Vin would not only pick up a few dollars for his troubles, but could share the incident with the rest of the boys over a whisky in the saloon.

Tanner’s mind returned to the present. Buck and J.D. unexpectedly returning to town early had freed him to leave just after seven a.m. From the smiles on his friends’ faces, they'd had some fun at the tavern in Redfork.

Apparently, the 'fun' was a redhead named Lola who had more curves than Zig Zag Pass.

Vin pushed in the rough slab door and entered the two-room cabin. He walked to the simple wooden table and dumped the bag. Without warning, his instincts bellowed. Vin ducked. Something swished only an inch from where his head had been. As Tanner threw himself to the right, a second blow glanced off his shoulder. Vin regained his feet swiftly, yanking his mare’s leg free of its holster. Before he could level it, a heavy club smashed against his arm, sending his gun sliding across the floor. Vin yelped and gripping the injured limb, he charged his attacker. The pair went down in a heap. Vin gained the upper hand with two swift punches, but his victory was short lived. The butt of a revolver slammed into the back of his head and he crashed to the floor. Lights flashed and his head exploded with pain. Panting, he tried to get his bearings, knowing that if he didn’t get up, he was dead.

“Get him on his feet, Pete,” a warped voice ordered. More than one. There was more than one? Why hadn’t he heard them? His instincts had never failed him this badly. The problem, in a nutshell, was that he’d relaxed, distracted by thoughts of fishing and his new friendships.

Rough hands manhandled the dizzy tracker and dragged him upright. For several moments, Vin’s head spun. When the swirling lights settled enough for him to make out his two attackers, Vin studied them. Both were large men, equally as big as Josiah. One was young, no more than twenty. The other’s hard, weathered face showed signs of many battles, three scars cris-crossing it.

The two men turned as a third man entered the cabin and frowned. “That isn’t Larabee."

Vin’s mind whizzed through the grinding pain that started at the base of his skull and radiated through his head. His physical discomfort paled in light of the realization throbbing through his mind. They were after Chris!

**********

A little piece of heaven, that was how Vin had described this spot. Chris slouched against the smooth bark of the century old tree whose branches hung over the creek; the lowest dipping into the crystal clear water. The dappled light gave the area a surreal atmosphere. The trees surrounding the small clearing were closely knit, both around and overhead, cutting off the outside world. Birds twittered and insects chirped, calling to mates. There was a coolness and a freshness about the area that couldn’t be found within the confines of town, an hour directly south. Larabee’s land, with its humble shack, was twenty minutes west, while the Indian reservation was north.

“A little piece of heaven,” Chris murmured. He watched as a brightly coloured bird dived from the branch of a tree opposite, skimmed the top of the water and then lifted back into the canopy. The creek was flowing with a great deal of water as a result of the rains a week earlier. As it tumbled and fell, it created patterns around the rocks. Chris was happy to stare at them for hours on end while being serenaded by nature’s orchestra.

Once again, Larabee found his mind drifting to his new friends. They were a strange bunch. All misfits in their own ways. Yet, their skills complimented each other, one’s weaknesses balanced by another’s strengths. Their differences -- and there were many -- had been put aside for the good of the town. The town? Chris smiled. No, more for the good of the team. He had not set out to be their leader, but over the past weeks had found the others looking to him. As one of the older and more experienced members of the group, it was natural. All had had a say, but he had been the one comfortable to give directions when needed. Of course, Chris found himself turning to Vin when he wanted an opinion or idea. Tanner had a good mind for strategy, and he read people well. Ezra, too, was valuable in that area, and while Chris had learned that Standish was as dependable as any man could be, Vin had the added dimension of experience -- more experience than Chris had seen in someone so young.

Larabee checked his rod, following the line all the way to the bottom where the hook was lying. There were several small fish circling it curiously. Chris sighed. He was content to wait for the ‘big one‘. According to Vin, there was a fish the size of horse in this area of the creek. The first time the tracker had told the tale of ‘the day the big one got away’, the fish in question had been the size of a cat… then a dog, then a goat, but last time, ‘the big one’ was definitely of horse dimensions.

“Come on out, horse fish. I’ve got five dollars on you,” Chris chuckled.

***********

The man in the doorway was finely built and short, Vin noted. The newcomer scanned the shack slowly and then wandered across to the table where Vin had dumped the bag of goods. Tipping out the contents, he examined them and without turning stated, “We’re looking for a fella called Larabee.”

“Well, I ain’t him,” Vin snapped. He struggled against the two man-mountains holding him to evaluate how much leeway he had, but found himself held firmly. Strength wasn’t going to get him out of this one.

The short man glanced at Vin and smiled, revealing discoloured and decayed teeth. “We were told that he lives in this cabin.”

“Well, you were told wrong. This is my land. Go look somewhere else.”

The short man pursed his lips and then walked across to his captive. Vin felt the two men holding him tense, which worried him. They were preparing for something.

Flicking his eyes to his two companions, the man, who was clearly calling the shots, commented, “He isn’t being very helpful, is he?”

“No, Dave, he sure isn’t,” the younger of Vin’s captors chuckled. Dave returned his attention to Vin and then, without warning, punched him in the belly. The blow lacked any real power and Vin glared back defiantly. “I told you, I ain’t Larabee.”

“Oh, we know that, but we want to know where he is.”

“Never heard of him,” Vin growled. He shut his eyes instinctively as he anticipated the next blow. It connected with his chin, but the punch slid off without doing any damage. Unlike his associates, Dave was not a powerful man.

“Well, here’s the problem. The same fella who told us this was Larabee’s shack, also told us that Larabee is often seen with six other men… one of them a tracker who wears a buckskin coat.”

“Buckskin coats are worn by everyone in this area,” Vin informed the other man, wiggling his jaw “Must be someone else.”

Dave inclined his head toward the table. “So why does that parcel have Larabee's name on it?”

Vin glanced across at the wrapped package and silently cursed. “Good question,” he murmured.

“So, let’s start again. Where’s Larabee?”

Vin drew in a deep breath and decided to fish for some information. “Why?”

“Don’t reckon that's any of your business, Sunshine.”

“Don’t reckon I know him, then,” Vin spat.

Dave smiled, but this time his eyes darkened. “We’ll see about that.” He nodded to the older of the men holding Vin. Tanner was yanked viciously, face to chest with the scar-faced thug. Knowing what was about to happen, Vin stomped his boot on the foot of the younger man. Instantly, his left arm was freed and he reached for the knife in his boot, but his fingers never got far. A fist the size of a bowling ball smashed into his face and everything went dark.

**********

It lifted Ezra’s heart to see so many people in the Standish Tavern at such an early hour. The meals Inez prepared were second to none and business was booming. Life had a strange way of turning around. Less than three weeks earlier he had signed on to protect this backward little town for a dollar a day plus room and board - nothing more than a temporary situation that would last thirty days. Now he was a business owner here. How long he intended staying he couldn’t answer, but at the moment, life was good.

The owner of the establishment watched a tall, dark-haired man harassing Inez and shook his head with amusement. Buck Wilmington was one of the six other gunmen Ezra had signed on with. The happy-go-lucky man was gliding along behind Inez, who was doing her best to ignore his attentions as she placed plates of food in front of patrons.

Her patience at an end, the young Mexican spun and tipped a full glass of milk over the loveable rogue’s head.

“So, can I take that as yes?” Buck asked, smiling sweetly through the drops of white liquid streaming down his face. Inez made an exasperated sound in the back of her throat and returned to the kitchen to refill the breakfast order she had just used to christen her pestering admirer.

Wilmington smiled and called, “I’ll just be sitting over there with Ezra if you want me.”

“I won’t,” Inez cried from the kitchen.

“Lovely. Just lovely,” Buck crooned, before joining Standish. His bouncy gait testified that he’d not taken the rejection to heart. Wilmington showed few signs of the injury hidden under his shirt… an injury he had sustained defending Inez.

Dropping into the seat across from his solitaire-playing friend, Buck took out a kerchief and wiped his face.

“You certainly need to be told things more than once,” the Southerner drawled.

“She’s weakening, Ezra. Won’t be long before she falls for the Wilmington charm.”

“I hate to be the one to break this to you, Buck, but the Wilmington ‘charm’ appears to be failing dismally.“

“She’s just playing hard to get.“ Buck sighed happily. “Only a matter of time.

Ezra smirked. “I’m afraid you are barking up the wrong tree. The young lady’s attentions blow in a different direction.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Buck frowned and scanned the room. He had competition? Leaning closer to Ezra, his moustache twitching, he demanded, “Who?”

Ezra pushed back his chair and winked, his gold tooth flashing. “That is something you will have to find out for yourself, my oafish friend. In the meantime, stop harassing Miss Recillos. She’s here to work and time is money.”

Buck pursed his lips and watched Ezra tip his hat to Inez before exiting the tavern. Wilmington considered the information his friend had imparted. For several seconds he searched his mind for the identity of his rival, then dismissed the problem. How could this other person possibly compete with his infamous animal magnetism, anyway?

“Inez, what are you doing for lunch today?” Buck called from his seat as the raven-haired waitress exited the kitchen. A full plate of porridge flew across the room and hit him in the chest.

“Such perfect aim,” Buck cooed.

**********

Vin awoke abruptly as a bucket of water drenched his head. His shoulders ached, and he realized immediately that his arms were extended behind him, the rough bark of the huge tree in Chris’ yard digging into his back. His left limb was numb from the elbow down, courtesy of the blow from the wooden club earlier. It didn’t feel as if it was broken, but it was aching with vengeance.

Vin‘s stomach burned. Clearly, he had been kicked several times during the few minutes he had been unconscious.

“Welcome back, Sunshine.” Vin raised his chin from his chest and focused his blurry vision. The three men were standing in front of him, grinning -- Larabee’s shack several feet behind them.

“He’s awake,” the youngest of the trio exclaimed with far too much glee for Vin‘s liking.

“What the hell do you want?” Tanner growled. “I told you, I ain’t Larabee.” The first few words were a little slurred, but became clearer as full awareness returned.

“Yep I know, but the question hasn’t changed. You tell me where Larabee is and we’ll leave.”

“Why don’t I believe that?” Vin tested the ropes that were cutting off the circulation in his fingers. His legs weren't bound, he noted; something he would exploit should the chance arise. He flexed his right foot to check on his hidden knife. Alas, it was gone.

“Don’t see why not. We’re not interested in you,” Dave dismissed, running his eyes up and down Vin with disinterest. “We only want Larabee,”

“Why?” Vin asked, playing for time. Of course, he’d have to play for a hell of a lot if he expected help to come. Chris wasn’t expecting him until between ten and midday and it wasn’t even nine yet. Even if he failed to show, Larabee was unlikely to be concerned. It wouldn’t be the first time the tracker had been late or that something had come up in town. All of which meant it was going to be a long day and he was on his own. The only solution was to distract the men long enough to devise a way to escape. “Why do you want Larabee?”

Dave frowned, considering the question. “A month ago, Larabee poked his nose into things that didn’t concern him.”

“Yeah?” Vin asked. “Like what?”

“Like none of your damn business.” For the first time, there was a hint of anger in Dave’s voice and a wild look in his hazel eyes. Josiah had only last week commented that a man’s eyes were windows to his soul. Right now, Vin didn’t like what he was seeing. There was something truly disturbing about Dave and his eyes were only a part of it. His manner was excessively calm. Vin suspected it masked a ruthless soul. He struck Vin as someone who could fly off the handle without warning. Someone completely unpredictable. “Where is he?”

“What the hell makes you think I know? I came out here to meet him and he isn’t here,” Vin offered.

Dave inclined his head toward Peso. “You didn’t tie your horse. You didn’t intend staying.”

Vin’s eyes narrowed. This Dave was intelligent, which explained why he was in charge. It also meant that outsmarting him wasn’t going to be easy.

“You were going to meet him,” Dave stated with certainty. “I want to know where he is. Tell me and the boys and I will ride out of here. I’m even willing to make it worth your while. Of course, if you double cross me or don’t tell me what I want to know…” He glanced at the tall, broad-shouldered men to his right, “…I’ll let Sam and young Pete here beat the living crap out of you. Up to you, Sunshine.”

For a single heartbeat Vin considered sending the men on a wild goose chase, but they would likely bring him along and then help would have no way of finding him. He could send them into town, but it was possible only Ezra and Nathan would be there. Josiah was out at the reservation and Buck and J.D. had mentioned joining he and Chris fishing. Two against three weren’t bad odds for men as competent as Ezra and Nathan, but add him as a hostage and it changed everything.

He could lead them to the creek near Chris and in the process make enough noise to alert Larabee to trouble. Tanner eyed Dave and decided that such a ploy wouldn’t work. The other man was too intuitive. Dave may well guess what was going on and that could endanger Chris. More lies and denials weren’t going to convince the intelligent leader of the trio and so that left the other two men. Vin decided to work on them and see what he could jolt loose. “You happy to hang for what you’re doin’?“

“Shut up,“ Sam snarled.

“You two will be the ones to hang for killin’ me. I notice he stands back and lets you do the hard work. He won’t get his hands dirty.”

“I said shut up!” Sam roared. Vin could tell he was definitely striking a chord.

“When they track you three down, I bet ol’ Dave there squeals like stuck pig to save his hide and lets both of you swing.”

Pete lunged forward, but Dave stopped him by raising his hand. “Won’t work, Sunshine. We’ve been together too long for the likes of you to play mind games with us. So, where can I find Larabee?”

“Go to hell.”

The response provoked an immediate reaction from Pete. The young man balled his hand into a fist and smashed it into Vin’s stomach. Tanner’s spine slammed against the tree trunk, pins and needles exploding through him. For a split second, he felt nothing and then his belly lit up like hell’s furnace. The muscle contracted, pulling him forward, but the rope dug into his wrists and held him firm. Tanner’s breath was forced out in a gush as his diaphragm snapped upwards. He gasped, then panted as he tried to control the pain and regulate his intake of breath.

“Larabee?” Dave prompted with amusement.

When Vin didn’t respond, Sam delivered a crushing blow to his jaw. Tanner’s head cracked against the tree and coloured lights flashed in front of his eyes. He tasted blood and felt its warmth trickling down the back of his neck.

Letting his chin tumble down onto his chest, Vin squeezed his eyes shut to stop the spinning. His body and skull were throbbing in unison, but for some obscure reason, he found himself thinking, ‘so this is how it feels when Josiah hits you.’

“Larabee?” Dave asked, stepping forward. Taking a handful of Vin’s hair, he yanked the sagging man’s head off his chest and was surprised to see two bright blue eyes glaring back at him. There was no fear or terror or resignation; only a steely resolve. That was unusual and the thug found himself intrigued. “Who are you?”

“Go to hell,” Vin growled. He spat into Dave’s face. The other man’s calm shattered, his grey eyes widening. He grabbed at Vin’s throat with one hand, but the span wasn’t large enough to encircle it. “Gotta get other people to fight your battles for you, ‘ Tiny‘?” Tanner snarled.

Dave roared and shot a punch at Vin’s left cheek. Tanner’s head didn’t move and he smiled. Perhaps if he riled Dave enough, he might stop thinking? Vin could see no other options. “I know women who hit better than that.”

The other man howled and his face contorted with rage. Vin watched with interest. Dave was a man on the edge of sanity, he realized. Toying with him would be very dangerous.

Dave’s chest heaved and he started to open his mouth but locked his jaw at the last minute. Glaring into Vin’s blazing eyes, Dave recognized someone who was more like him than he’d realized. This dusty pile of rags was so much more than he seemed. He was bright and quick of mind… and he was goading him. Dave spun and walked a few steps away. He remained with his back to the others for several moments, Sam and Pete watching him nervously.

“You boys don’t want to get yourselves into the middle of this,” Tanner started, lowering his voice. “If I were you, I’d high tail it outta here as fast as I could.” Vin could tell he was reaching Sam.

The older man licked his lips.

“Kill me and you’ll hang for it, ain’t nothin’ surer.”

“Shut-up,” Pete growled, his eyes on his leader.

Abruptly, Dave turned, apparently having composed himself. “Larabee, where is he?”

“I ain’t his keeper,” Vin muttered.

Dave nodded to the freckled-faced kid in the body of a mammoth. Pete’s face loomed in front of Vin’s eyes for only a moment before he delivered another bone-shattering blow.