Peering through the thick green canopy to check the position of the sun, Chris decided it must be after nine o’clock. Vin would be at least another hour, which would give ’the big one’ more time to take Larabee’s bait. Mercilessly teasing his best friend was high on his agenda today -- either by catching the fish Vin had been bragging about or by exploiting the scene he had been fortunate enough to witness the day before.

Chris gazed at the water, his mind light and free to drift uninterrupted in the stillness. Buck and J.D. had overheard his and Vin’s fishing plans, and before Chris had known what was going on, the pair had invited themselves along. Not that Chris minded. His friendship with Buck was comfortable and he liked J.D. However, Dunne’s enthusiasm was an acquired taste and the youth’s inability to actually shut his mouth for more than five minutes could grate at the best of times.

Buck and the youngest member of the regulators had struck up an immediate friendship, which surprised Chris a little. Buck had always been generous with his time, but in the past, he had drawn the line when it came to mentoring someone. Whether Buck knew it or not, that was exactly what he was doing with J.D. The pair’s friendship was understandable, though. Both were exuberant, noisy and full of life.

Chris smiled. Tanner was completely the opposite, which was another reason why Chris had taken an instant liking to the scruffy tracker. Vin was reserved, quiet and respected silence. Silence was a beautiful thing. Chris gazed contentedly around the stunning, secluded area Vin had shared with him. As Tanner had pointed out on their first fishing trip here, you could actually hear the silence. The peace was so complete that Chris felt sure it couldn’t be penetrated.

Strangely, it was at that moment that some of the harmony that Chris felt was disturbed. It wasn’t a sudden or identifiable interruption. Chris couldn’t put his finger on it exactly. Rising off the trunk of the tree, his hand falling to his holster, Larabee slowly inspected the area, this time from a different perspective. No longer was he looking at a lovely, peaceful fishing spot. Rather, he was searching for a hidden enemy in what was actually the perfect place for an ambush. Larabee squinted into the shadows, their calming coolness dissolving, replaced by the possibility of a hidden and sinister unknown.

For almost a full minute, Chris listened and tried to detect the source of his uneasiness.

All was still and quiet.

Larabee drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, drawing his eyebrows together and furrowing his brow as his confusion grew. There was a tingling in his senses… or was it his instinct? Was his mind so used to being tightly wound that it found it impossible to accept that all was well? Troublemakers were giving Four Corners a wide berth, his six friends were working well together and Chris’ personal life was more settled than it had been for years. Relaxation had been as rare as hen’s teeth until recently. Had he simply forgotten how to do it?

A final sweep of the area and Chris decided that the strange disquiet he was experiencing could be explained away. Subconsciously, he was having difficulty accepting that he could loosen up. Nothing more.

Larabee pushed other thoughts aside and checked his rod, determined not to allow his pensive outlook ruin what was going to be a wonderful day.

Sitting back against the tree, Larabee rubbed his stomach. He grabbed his canteen and took a long draw. As he did, the dull uneasiness returned, this time with so much intensity he couldn’t dismiss it. The strange insistence had Chris instinctively reaching for the trusty weapon on his hip.

“This is ridiculous,” the gunfighter murmured. Climbing to his feet, Chris walked around the small clearing searching. He had no idea what he was searching for, but something he couldn’t quite describe was driving him. Once he had walked along the creek twice and explored the foliage around him, he stopped and noted that his hand was once again resting on his stomach. He lifted his palm and stared down at his belly, his eyes narrowing. The strange uneasiness deepened, accompanied by a wave of anxiety and nausea.

**********

Vin was overcome by a wave of nausea. Three blows in quick succession left him retching helplessly. His legs wilted and he slumped, putting more pressure on his abused arms. Pete had been pummelling him for what seemed an eternity. He’d landed blow after blow to Vin’s face, ribs and stomach and showed no sign of tiring.

Gritting his teeth, Vin pushed up from his knees and the weight on his upper limbs eased. The agony reverberating through him was clouding his mind but through it all, he could hear Dave’s voice.

“Tell me where I can find Larabee and we’ll leave.”

Vin lifted his head and levelled his hate-filled gaze at the other man. The regulator's face was battered and bruised and his jaw was beginning to stiffen, but still he refused to give the thugs any satisfaction. “If you were as smart as you think you are, you'd realize I don’t know,” the tracker slurred, due to internal swelling in his mouth.

Dave pursed his lips.

Sam turned to his leader. “He may be right. Let’s ride on and forget Larabee.”

Vin waited, praying that was exactly what they would do. His hopes were dashed when Dave shook his head. “He knows where Larabee is. He hasn’t denied it enough. If he didn’t know, he’d have gone out of his way to say so.”

Vin swallowed, exhaled and let his chin fall back down onto his chest. The bastard was right. Tanner would have spotted that himself if he’d been the one looking for information.

“We could just wait for Larabee to return,” Sam suggested. Beating a man to death didn’t sit well with him and he could tell that the buffalo hunter tied to the tree wouldn’t survive many more of Pete’s blows, despite his apparent resilience. “It’s Larabee’s cabin. He’ll come home sooner or later.”

“True,” Dave agreed, having come to that conclusion when they had first ridden in. “However, we need to be at Buffalo Springs by this time tomorrow to meet the others.” The leader swatted at an annoying fly as he returned his attention to Vin. “We need to find Larabee before lunch today if we're to make the train, and our uncooperative friend is going to help us.”

“Keep dreamin’, Tiny,” Vin muttered.

Pete smashed his fist into Vin‘s cheekbone, snapping Tanner‘s head back violently. Vin’s vision darkened at the edges, but a blow to his belly slammed him into the tree truck and yanked him from the rim of oblivion. Tendrils of pain shot up his back and then down again before mushrooming and radiating out in all directions.

Tanner gasped, fighting for air. He coughed, choking on his own blood.

“Larabee,” Dave’s warped voice insisted through the pounding in Vin’s skull.

Pete turned to Sam and smiled. “He’s weakening. Won‘t be long now.”

Sam licked his lips nervously. “Dave. Dave, he’s had enough. He would have told us if he’d known. We don’t want to kill him. Let’s get out of here.”

The small man shook his head. “He knows, Sam. I’m not leaving until I’ve put a bullet in Larabee’s skull. So he can tell us now or he can tell us after Pete’s broken every bone in his body. His choice. You hear me, Sunshine?” Dave grasped a handful of Vin’s hair and lifted the weakened man’s head, careful to move to the side in case Vin chose to send another projectile at him. Tanner’s blue eyes still held fire, hatred and defiance, which didn’t surprise Dave. This buckskin-clad man had a wild spirit that would not be easily tamed, but that didn’t explain why he was prepared to go through so much for Larabee. “Why are you protecting him?”

Vin slowed his breathing and forced himself to ignore the inferno throbbing through his battered body as he considered Dave’s question. Why was he taking this beating for a man he had only known for 19 days? Because it was Chris. It was as simple as that. That meant something. Something Vin couldn't really explain, but felt to his core. It was Chris, and he could no more betray Larabee than fly through the air… even if it meant his life.

“Can you hear me? Why are you protecting Larabee?”

Vin squinted at Dave. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he growled. As he spoke, blood trickled through his teeth and ran down his chin.

Pete responded immediately. He slammed his huge fist into Vin’s face, jerking the captive’s head so viciously that Dave lost his grip. Tanner’s skull crashed into the tree and sparks exploded across his vision.

“Provide him with some more incentive, Pete,” Dave ordered, walking a few steps to stand in the shade of the shack. "We've got at least three hours. Not sure he does though, by the look of him."

It was the first thing Dave had said that Vin agreed with. He couldn’t take much more. Already, he knew that the damage was considerable. He wasn't going to get out of this on his own. He needed help, but he knew it wouldn't come. No one would miss him for hours. Tanner's tormented mind drifted to his best friend. Don't look like I’m gonna hang, Cowboy.

Four more blows pounded into his body, but mercifully Vin only registered the first two. An abyss opened and he fell into it.

His last thought was of the only person in years he felt he could depend on completely.

**********

“Vin.” The word formed on Chris’ tongue without thought. His eyes widened in confusion.

Vin’s in trouble. The strange, yet intense realization shivered through him.

It wasn’t a guess or even suspicion, he just knew… knew with the same certainty he knew the sun would rise and set the next day. Somehow, someway, he ‘knew’ Vin needed his help. That was the source of the uneasiness he had been feeling. It had something to do with Vin. Larabee had never felt anything remotely like this acute ‘awareness’ and although he didn’t understand the strange signals he was receiving, he didn’t question them. His sense of Vin was so strong… so clear. It washed over him and penetrated the very essence of his being. The burning that had started as acid leaping in his stomach was now radiating through his soul.

Sure that there must be trouble in town and that his best friend needed him, Chris raced for his horse and pulled himself into the saddle. The animal automatically started west toward the shack and fresh hay Chris had placed in the small stable before setting off for the creek.

Abruptly, Chris’ awareness of Vin blazed and then faded, flooding Larabee’s stomach with nausea and his soul with a throbbing so real he felt claustrophobic.

“Come on!” Larabee roared, digging in his spurs. Yanking the animal’s head south, he thundered down the well-worn path toward Four Corners.

*************

Consciousness came closer and then drifted out of reach. Vin’s growing awareness was mirrored by building discomfort. There was no single place that was hurting. He ached everywhere.

“So what? You his mother or something?”

“I think he’s comin‘ around.”

Vin drew in a deeper breath. Burning spread across his chest. He heard a deep, guttural moan and realized it was his own.

“Welcome back, Sunshine. Remember us?” Dave chuckled.

Vin attempted to swallow, but gagged on the blood in this throat. The two shallow coughs that followed caused pain to zap around his body, but it helped to crystallise his thoughts. He had no hope of rescue. His survival rested with his ability to endure the beating… and perhaps with Sam.

“He doesn’t know, Dave. No man could put up with a beating like that and hold his tongue. Let’s get out of here before someone comes. Hell, if he is Larabee’s friend, we’ll have him after us.”

Vin snorted. Sam had that right. Chris would track these mongrels down. In that, Vin found satisfaction.

“Let Larabee come. I ain’t afraid of him.”

“You should be,” Vin proclaimed in a breathy voice.

Dave placed two fingers under his captive’s chin and raised his head. “You got something to say?”

Vin squinted through his left eye at the slight man. His right eye was useless -- swollen shut.

“Where can I find Chris Larabee?”

“Hell,” Vin whispered. “You’ll be seein’ him in hell.”

Dave smirked and waved Vin’s own knife in front of him. “Perhaps this may help you to remember. If not, Pete’ll use it to cut out your tongue.”

“Don't wanta get your hands all bloody, huh?” Vin growled.

Dave bounced his fingers twice, jerking Vin’s head up and down like a puppet on a string, before allowing it to fall back onto his chest. With increased determination, Vin collected his strength and raised his chin. The muscles in his neck quaked with the effort, but Vin's resolve was strong. It was important that he make eye contact with Pete. Killing a man wasn’t so easy when he was staring you in the face.

As Tanner watched Dave present the knife to the youngest member of the gang, he accepted that he was going to die. Whether it was their intention or not, things would get out of hand and they would kill him. He had only two regrets. One was Eli Joe. Vin had wanted justice, but that wasn't going to happen. The other regret related to Chris.

Pete’s pupils dilated as a blast of pure adrenaline ignited his excitement. “Ain’t never cut no one before.”

“Well, now’s your chance,” Dave encouraged.

Sam shook his head. “There ain’t no turning back once you start that,” he stated, voicing his reservations. “Let’s just leave. Please.”

“Shut up.” Dave’s face was alive with anticipation. Vin suspected this wasn’t the first time Dave had watched a man die. “Go on, Pete.”

The oversized kid's attention was still riveted to the blade, memorized by its dangerous beauty.

“Don’t stab him,” Dave instructed “Just a few slashes to start with. Make him holler. We need answers first.”

Pete nodded and flicked his gloating gaze to Vin, but a set of eyes that spoke a thousand words stole his delight. Licking his lips, Pete wilted under their intensity.

“What are you waiting for?” Dave snarled.

“Nothin’. It’s just that…”

“You’re afraid,” Dave spat. “Good, God. You’re afraid to do it. You’re actually scared of him… of that pile of smelly rags. I can’t believe it!”

“I ain’t afraid of him,” Pete denied, thrusting his chest out and lifting himself to his full six feet and five inches. “I’ll make him talk.” Raising the knife until the sun glinted off the blade, Pete moved closer. Vin acted. He threw his weight back against the tree, lifted his right leg and kicked out with all his might. His boot slammed into Pete’s groin. Howling in agony, the youth staggered backwards, dropped the knife and grabbed his family jewels.

Dave burst out laughing. "Good shot."

Tanner’s foot crashed to the ground and his legs began to tremble. The kick had drained just about all of his remaining energy. He knew it hadn’t been enough, but at least he’d had the satisfaction of getting some of his own back.

“You gonna let him get away with that?” Dave baited Pete, who was still on his knees.

All colour drained from the huge youth’s face.

Tanner swallowed. He didn’t have the strength to fight back a second time. This was it. At least he wasn’t going to die choking at the end of a rope. Sorry, Chris.

Pete lunged for the knife and came up with it, his entire body quaking with rage.

Tanner focused his gaze on his attacker, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

"You bastard!" Pete growled.

"Maybe, but the man you’re lookin’ for sure is, and he’ll track you three bastards down," Vin proclaimed with certainly. At that moment, he was overcome by a feeling of calm. No, not calm. Safety.

The knife arced above him.

Vin's head snapped to the right and he scanned the track from the creek. Chris?

Silence dropped like a shroud over the area.

Time slowed.

The deadly blade descended.

And then a gunshot shattered the surreal atmosphere.

Pete screamed as the knife, along with one of his fingers, was shot out of his hand.

Sam and Dave spun, Sam drawing his weapon.

A figure in a poncho stepped out of the foliage and fired a second time, roaring with rage. Sam fell.

Chris. Vin trembled with both amazement and relief.

Wailing in agony and anger, Pete made the mistake of reaching for his gun. Chris swivelled and his weapon barked a third time. This shot, too, found its mark… and Pete fell.

“Vin?!” Chris cried. He didn’t look, partly because he was rotating toward the final man, but mostly because his instincts told him he shouldn‘t. He knew it was bad. He could feel it. “Vin?” Damn it, speak to me, Tanner.

“Yeah,” Vin panted.

Dave took off for the horses. His bodyguards had fallen. It was time to cut and run.

Chris sprinted after him. He fired a bullet into the ground an inch in front of the thug’s foot. Dave pulled up and glanced back over his shoulder, cautiously raising his arms over his head.

“Turn around… slowly,” Chris snarled. The small man hesitated. “Give me a reason,” Chris whispered, clenching his jaw. Vin’s laboured breathing was echoed in the silence, each wheeze testament to his pain. The veins in Larabee’s neck stood out like chords. This bastard in front of him had tied Vin to a tree and done God knows what to him.

Dave edged around to face Chris.

“The gun,” Chris prompted. “Take it out and drop it.”

Again, Dave hesitated.

Larabee’s eyes narrowed. “Go for the gun,” he urged in a hushed and horribly distorted voice. “I want you to, you son-of-a-bitch.”

It was obvious Larabee needed little provocation. “Don’t shoot. I give up,” Dave screamed. His arms straightened above his head to back his claim. “Hold your fire.”

Chris had his back to the two fallen men. He couldn't turn to check on them. “Vin?” The others?

The weakened tracker's endurance was fast running out, but Larabee needed him to watch his back. Vin cast his one-eyed gaze first on Sam, who was staring emptily into the sky, and then on Pete. He waited, watching the young man’s chest, and when it failed to move, Vin called, “Dead. Both dead.”

Only then did Chris dismiss the pair as threats and move in on Dave. He yanked the gun from the other man’s holster and threw it away. Then he grabbed the thug, turned him around and shoved him toward the simple stable. “Come on, asshole. Vin, I’m going to tie him. Hang on.”

“Take yer time, Cowboy,” Vin murmured. All of a sudden, darkness rushed up around him. Chris was safe and so was he. Miraculously, help had come. Tanner’s chin slammed down onto his chest and his knees folded. His arms were numb and while he registered the added discomfort from the pull of his own body weight, it felt distant - as if it belonged to someone else.

Moments later, Chris exited the stable and raced toward his silent friend. For a split second, his breath caught in his throat. Vin was hanging bonelessly, his face hidden. The front of his shirt was splattered with blood. The only signs he still lived were his noisy gasps for breath and the agonized grunts associated with them.

Chris snatched up the fallen knife. “Hang on, Vin. I’ll have you down in a minute.”

Larabee rushed to his friend and sawed through the rope binding him. As it gave away, the over-stretched muscles in Vin’s arms contracted and the blood flowed to his fingers, igniting the starved nerves. Tanner fell forward with a cry of agony. Chris lunged around the tree and caught him. Vin started to slide toward the ground, but Chris grasped and held him on his feet. "I've got you."

For a few seconds, Chris didn't attempt to move, allowing his best friend to get his breath. The gunfighter glided his hand around Tanner’s back and patted him firmly. "Hell, Vin. I can’t leave you alone for a minute,” he added, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Trouble just seems to find you.”

"What the hell… are you talkin’… about?” Vin responded, weakly. Blood flowed freely from his mouth and dripped down onto Chris' shoulder. “I was handlin’… things just fine… Had 'em right… where I wanted ‘em.”

Larabee forced a chuckle. "You are so full of shit.”

Vin shuddered.

Chris didn’t know if it was relief or pain. “Easy.” He gently squeezed his best friend -- it was all he could think to do. “We need to get you inside. Ready?"

"Yeah."

As gently as he could, Chris readjusted his hold. Vin’s head wobbled, but remained on his shoulder. Chris managed to slide his arm around Tanner's waist and sling Vin’s arm over his shoulder. The injured man groaned in spite of his effort to remain silent. Then again, he had no reason to hide the pain. It was Chris.

“Sorry, Vin.” Tanner’s body slumped heavily. “You still with me?” Chris waited for a response, but there was none. He couldn't see Vin's face behind the curtain of the tracker's long, damp hair. Blood matted the tangled locks, evidence Vin had been hit from behind at some point.

“Vin?” Chris prompted, shaking his friend. His concern rose sharply. "Vin?!"

“Why... did you... come... back?” Tanner rasped. His laboured breathing worsened.

Chris swallowed, terror finding root in his heart. “Don’t speak. I‘ve got you.” Larabee gripped his companion tighter and then began to 'carry' him toward the shack. It wasn’t easy. Vin shuffled his feet, but was unable to support any of his own weight. Chris guided Vin through the main room and into the bedroom.

“Two of ’em were… waitin’ in here…. My own fault… Wasn’t concentratin‘,” Vin admonished himself.

“Shhhh. Don't talk.”

When they reached the bed, Chris lowered Vin to sit on the edge. It was only then that Vin lifted his head and Chris got his first glimpse of Tanner’s severely beaten face. Larabee winced, stunned. His best friend's features were so puffy he was barely recognisable. “Those bastards.”

“Reckon you came… just in time. Not sure I… woulda lasted long once… they started cuttin‘ me,” Vin offered, smiling lopsidedly through swollen lips.

Chris fingered the area around Vin’s eye and grimaced. “They really worked you over. How long?”

Vin's mind began to drift in a sea of pain and relief. He was vaguely aware Larabee was talking, but he couldn’t make out the words through the fog that was rolling in over his mind. He sensed Chris easing his head onto the pillow. The mattress was old and hard, but it felt wonderful to lie down. At some point, his eyes closed, but the stubborn Texan forced his heavy lids to rise. “Chris?”

“Right here,” Larabee replied, laying his hand on Vin‘s arm. For a handful of seconds, he stood, his mind whirring. Where the hell did he start? Nathan’s image popped into his mind. Why the hell had this happened so far from help? Collecting himself, Chris decided upon a plan of action. “Just hang on a minute. I need to get a cloth.” He darted out of the room.

Vin listened to Chris’ muttered curses and found them strangely reassuring. He felt so dreadfully weary, but he couldn‘t rest yet. Chris had to be told that he’d been the thugs' intended target. For several moments Vin agonized, recognising how difficult it would be for Chris to hear such news. Larabee would blame himself, but a man who didn’t know the facts was left blind.

Larabee returned with a damp cloth and gently wiped the blood from Vin’s face, grimacing as he did so. One side was red with blue and green collected under the skin. The other was grey.

“Fella in the stable… is the one to worry about…. Real smart bastard,” Vin warned.

“He’s not going anywhere.”

As Chris pulled apart Vin’s buckskin coat and peeled open the blood-stained shirt, he scowled. Already, there was bruising evident there too, but it was what he couldn’t see that worried him most. Gently, the gunfighter brushed his fingertips down the centre of Vin’s ribs and then followed each one, silently counting.

“You’ve got four broken ribs that I can feel.”

“The kid that did… most of the poundin’ was… as big as Josiah. Reckon four ain’t… too bad, considerin’.” Vin’s voice lacked the volume it had only seconds earlier. Without warning, he started to tremble.

Recognizing the signs of shock, Chris grabbed a blanket and pulled it over his friend, placing his hand on the crown of Vin’s head. It was the only spot he could be sure wasn’t bruised or injured. “It’s okay,” Chris whispered. “Just relax.”

Vin felt the touch of reassurance and tried to communicate his thanks, but the words refused to form.

Larabee shook his head in frustration. He had an impossible decision to make: go for Nathan and leave Vin alone or stay and try to do what he could until Buck and J.D. came? Then again, they may not turn up. Their decision to join him and Vin may have been lost to other interests.

Tanner’s shaking increased. “You cold?” Chris asked.

“Nahhh. Just… just tired.” Vin attempted to swallow, but failed.

“I’ll get you some water.”

Larabee disappeared briefly to collect a canteen. When he returned, he slid his arm under Vin‘s shoulders and then lifted. Tanner gasped -- his body went rigid and his good eye opened wide. For several seconds he breathed heavily, trying to control the pain stabbing though his chest and stomach.

“Easy. Easy. Take it slow.” Accepting the canteen, Vin struggled with the top, but couldn’t grip it with his trembling fingers. Chris cursed, drawing Vin into him. At first, Vin didn’t seem to understand and tried to remain upright, but some gentle encouragement was all that was needed for him to relinquish control to Chris. He'd never done that before... never trusted anyone enough. But trust wasn't an issue when it came to Chris.

Tanner’s head thumped against Larabee’s shoulder, Chris’ chest taking the weight of his injured friend's body. With his hands freed, the gunfighter took back the canteen, undid the top, cupped Vin‘s neck in one hand and tipped the canteen to his ashen lips.

The water felt cool against Vin’s burning throat, but the internal swelling in his mouth and throat made it difficult to swallow. He coughed water and blood out of his mouth. Chris threw the canteen to the ground, dragged Vin off his chest and propped him upright to help him get his breath.

“Easy, Vin.” Larabee rubbed his friend’s back. “Easy, Cowboy.“ Chris couldn’t hide his dismay at the sight of the crimson coloured water running down Vin’s chin. “Damn.” Vin needed help and he needed it quickly.

Once Tanner's lungs stopped convulsing, Larabee guided him back onto the bed. Vin moaned. It was an involuntary response to the ache reverberating through him. As Larabee stared down at the horrific damage that had been inflicted upon his friend, the rage he had been fighting to keep at bay, began to build. How could anyone do this to another human being? It was more than that, though. This wasn’t just anyone. This was Vin. Friendship was one thing, but it didn’t have the same ‘ownership’ and responsibility associated with family. So why was Chris feeling both of those things now for Vin? He’d known the man less than three weeks, and yet…

Chris' thoughts flicked briefly to the thug tied in the stable. He would tear him apart with his bare hands.

Tanner noted the intensity of Larabee’s gaze and asked with a lop-sided smirk, “I look that bad, huh?”

Chris swallowed and unconsciously shook his head. “Worse. Vin...” There were no words to express his disgust, sympathy or rage. He had never seen a beating like it. They had left no area of Vin's torso unblemished. At the moment, the damage was an ugly red and extended from the left side of Vin's face, to his chest, to his abdomen and to other places hidden by his clothes.

Vin’s jagged breathing pounded in Chris‘ head. Tanner needed more help than Larabee could give. Chris re-covered his friend, tucking the blanket tightly around him. “I need to collect Nathan. I don’t know how much I can do for you.”

“Ya did enough when you turned up,” Vin whispered. His voice was weaker. Tanner blinked and then lifted his hand to rest on Larabee’s arm. He was still suffering from tremors, though they appeared to have eased slightly. “Ya never said… why you came back.”

Chris licked his lips and shrugged. He wasn’t sure how to answer that question… how to answer a lot of questions he had. “Later. The sooner I can get Nathan, the better.”

“Chris…“

“Shh. Don’t try to talk any more. Just rest. I’ll get your mare’s leg and leave it with you.“

“Chris…” The rest of the sentence was lost in a groan that rumbled deep in Vin’s throat. Chris reached for his friend’s brow to check for fever… and his fury grew. The man in the stable would pay for this. By God, he would pay.

“I’ll get Nathan. He‘ll know what to do.”

“Chris…they were after you."

Larabee froze. He stared down at Vin. “Me?”

“Yeah. Wanted to know where to find you.”

Chris blinked. “They weren’t bounty hunters?” As Vin’s words registered, comprehension exploded. “They were asking where I was? WHY THE HELL DIDN‘T YOU TELL THEM?!”

Vin snorted. “Stop yellin’.”

“Vin... I… Why? What did they want with me?”

“Didn‘t say, but... they wanted you bad,... Cowboy. Real bad.”

Chris was at a loss. “You should have… Hell, Vin.” His voice broke. Larabee started to reach for his friend’s shoulder, but remembering the dreadful bruising, he redirected his hand to the top of Vin‘s skull. You didn’t need to take this for me.

Yeah, I did. They stared at each other, and not for the first time, both marvelled at the fact that they understood.

Larabee shook his head. “You crazy bastard.”

Vin smiled as much as his mouth would allow. “You just gonna... stand there insultin’ me... or are you gonna go... get Nathan?”

Chris slowly rose to his feet, but kept his hand on Vin‘s head. He knew the connection was important for Vin… and for him. “I’ll get your gun. The fella in the stable is hog tied. He won’t get loose. You can rest.”

Vin nodded. “Reckon I can... handle that, Cowboy.”

“I’ll be two hours.“ Two hours was a long time -- what if Nathan wasn’t in town? Larabee felt the first strains of panic, but Vin seemed to sense what he was thinking.

“Nathan’s in town,” he assured.

“I’ll bring him back as quick as I can. And Vin...” Chris struggled to finish the sentence.

Vin snorted. “Buck bet me… five dollars to push you… into the creek. You don‘t think… I‘m gonna miss that,… do you?”

Their eyes connected and their souls spoke. Don’t die on me, Vin.