Vin Tanner slouched against the porch post of the saloon, watching the citizens of Four Corners going about their daily business. Other than an occasional Saturday night fight in the saloon by rowdy ranch hands with too much liquor and excess energy, the slowly growing western town had been quiet and peaceful almost to the point of being dull.

The ex-bounty hunter didn't bother to turn at the sound of the batwing doors swinging behind him. He didn't have to look to know it was the dark clad gunslinger who settled into the chair at the small nearby table and tilted his chair back against the wall.

Nodding his thanks for the beer Chris Larabee had placed on the table for him and removing his hat, Vin sank into other chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him, swiping at the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. It would have been a few degrees cooler inside the building but the empty chair at the gambler's usual gaming table only made the absence of their seventh man more noticeable. The quiet just seemed more pronounced without the southerner's continuous confusing chatter.

Although getting the man to admit it would be like pulling a grizzly bear's teeth, Vin knew, Larabee missed Ezra as much as any of them. The southerner's sarcastic wit, smart mouth, lively imagination and constant scheming were a consistant source of irritation to the reserved leader...and endless entertainment as well. There wasn't one of the six who would deny the con man's effervescent presence added to the small backwater town and he was sorely missed.

Of course, a few weeks before, Chris had seemed ready to kick the southern gambler's ass all the way to Georgia. Granted, it might have been easier to just shoot him but Larabee didn't relish facing a noose or worse his own guilty conscience over that much desired action.

During that time a blacker than normal mood had settled over Larabee and the gambler always a thorn in the gunman's side, readily became an easy target for the shootist. It seemed the two men had been at each other's throat for days and the situation kept getting worse. Even Buck couldn't explain the sudden dark feelings that flowed through and from Chris.

JD had attempted to blame it on the heat but with the wisdom of experience the youngster had cautiously avoided mixing in the confrontations between the gambler and gunslinger.

Nathan, upset with Standish for what he considered the con man's lack of morals when Ezra had accepted Bill Webster's plow team in payment for a gambling debt had only added to the explosive mixture.

Vin and Josiah had unobtrusively played peacemaker struggling to find ways to keep the two men apart, silently noticing and appreciating Wilmington attempting to do the same. They had all watched in quiet confusion, dumbfounded as Ezra seemed to actually push all the harder the angrier Larabee became, seemingly making himself the sole target for the Hoosier's deepening rage.

It had continued to build like the heat and then finally came to a head when Standish had intervened with a sardonic comment, when Chris had started to chew JD's ass for a simple mistake. The sarcastic remark had earned the con man a right cross to his jaw but had drawn the blond's attention away from the young sheriff. With comprehension, they came to understand the gambler's motivation.

A timely telegram from a doctor in Denver had solved the problem of how to keep the southerner from getting himself killed at Larabee's hand. Maude had needed surgery to have her appendix removed and wished her son by her side while she recovered. Although none of the law men had a particular fondness for the con woman, they all realized it would be in everyone's best interest for Ezra to leave town.

They had immediately packed Ezra's bag and put him on the first stage out of town. Watching the coach disappear in the distance, Tanner had wished someone had thought to offer their company to the gambler and momentarily wandered if he would ever see the southerner again. In the back of his mind he knew it would be simple for Standish to have Inez pack and ship him the last of his belongings. Under the circumstances, Vin knew he couldn't blame the gambler if he did just that.

Yet a weight had been lifted from his shoulders when a telegram to Josiah had finally arrived announcing Maude was well on her way to recovery and the con man's immenient return.

Now, sipping the lukewarm beer, his azure eyes narrowing, Vin gazed into the distance, suddenly feeling the closeness of the small town he'd come to think of as home.

Larabee watched his friend stare at the beckoning horizon, waiting patiently for the ex-bounty hunter's next words.

"Reckon I'll head out for a bit." Finishing the beer, Tanner rose and stretched lazily, settling his hat back on his long curls.

Larabee nodded. "Any particular direction?" As if he really needed to ask.

Vin shrugged.

"Watch yer back."

Tanner gave him a lop sided smile. "Always try...See ya in a few days."

*******

Chris wasn't surprised when a short time later, astride Peso and leading the gambler's chestnut gelding, the longhaired sharpshooter started in the direction of Chesterville. Two days by horseback ought to put him there just ahead of the stagecoach. A small smile touched his lips. Might as well enjoy the peace and quiet because it wouldn't last much longer...probably no more than four days.

*******

"Pullin' out in an hour folks." The stage driver announced as the handful of passengers stepped from the coach. "Restaurant across the street's got damn good eats."

Ezra stepped aside to let the other passengers by as he stood on the boardwalk trying to loosen muscles tightened from long hours cramped inside the crowded coach. God how he hated riding the stagecoach! He hated the close confines, and being jostled against the other passengers as the vehicle rumbled over the bumps and ruts of the dirt packed well traveled roads. Most of all, he hated the memories a ride on the stage always invoked.

It would have been faster and much more comfortable for him to take the train to Eagle Bend and rent a horse from the livery. Unfortunately it was also more expensive and at the moment the gambler was running low on funds.

Not quite trusting that the telegram wasn't one of his mother's many schemes and unwilling to let her con him out of the money he'd put aside to purchase his saloon...at least not all of it...Ezra had wisely left half of his savings cached under the loose floorboard in the back corner of his closet.

Maude had indeed been recovering from surgery when Ezra arrived in Denver. Like a queen holding court, her perfect makeup hiding the pale pallor she was esconsed in the middle of the large bed in the expensive hotel suite charming the doctors and various suitors that seemed to be in constant attendance.

Ezra wasn't surprised that his mother, the consumate con woman who considered illness an inconvenience, teaching him as a young child that any form of sickness would merely display for the world how truly weak he was, had turned her own malady to her advantage.

Although he had visited the finer establishments using his poker skills to add to his finances, Standish spent the better part of his time in Denver catering to his mother's every whim and listening to her plans for the future. One of her many suitors was wealthy beyond belief and dumb as dirt. Following her simple plan the mother and son team would easily be able to divest the man of a good deal of his wealth with no risk to themselves.

A fake telegram saying Judge Travis needed his expertise had allowed the con man to escape before he found himself no longer able to resist temptation and embroiled in one of his mother's schemes, to once more be caught up in Maude's clutches.

Ezra had passed the time on the boring ride home, contemplating the changes in his life since first laying eyes on a gunslinger whose mood matched his dark clothes, a longhaired ex-bounty hunter who had found himself a wanted man and an ex-slave with the gentle touch of a healer. Standish mentally kicked himself for allowing those changes. His life prior to that meeting had been a satisfying one...Hadn't it?

Then why had he abandoned everything...well not everything...Maude had taught him? What was it about the six men he worked with that made him want to change his life? What in the hell had happened to him that he would so willingly leave the excitement and culture, not to mention the ample profits to be made, of a thriving city like Denver to return to a dust covered backwater burg in the middle of nowhere?

He snorted to himself. Perhaps the heat or the alcohol consumed over the years had finally affected his mind causing a form of insanity. He'd have to ask Nathan if that was possible. Maude was certainly ready to have him committed, convinced her darlin' boy had lost what was left of his good sense or rather his deviousness.

As the miles rolled by under the stage wheels, the southerner hadn't discovered any answers to the questions plaguing his mind, and finding no satisfaction there, his thoughts turned instead to the events prior to his leaving for Denver.

Ezra had been in the Mercantile when the stage driver had delivered the small satchel of weekly mail. Hearing Mrs. Potter's astonished gasp as she sorted through the letters, he stepped closer, thinking perhaps the heat was beginning to affect her when her complexion paled, her eyes grew wide, and her hands began to tremble. Looking down at the item she stood gripping tightly he saw it was a sealed envelope addressed to Mrs. Sarah Larabee.

Immediately understanding the stunned woman's reluctance to deliver the missive to the gunslinger who still mourned the loss of his family after all these years, Ezra had offered his services assuring Mrs. Potter he would handle the situation. Securing the woman's promise of silence, the gambler had carried the letter in his jacket pocket for two days certain the wisest thing for him to do would be destroying the piece of mail and remaining silent about its existence. There was after all, no reason to inflict Larabee with the pain of remembrance, the missive would certainly evoke. However, Ezra realized the small item of mail wasn't his property to destroy.

Making up his mind on the correct course of action, Ezra had waited a few miles outside of town casually joining Larabee as the gunfighter passed on patrol. Without preamble, Ezra had quietly held out the missive.

Chris had stared at the letter as if it were a rattlesnake coiled and poised to strike. A million emotions seemed to flood across his features before they set in a grim mask and he snatched the paper from the gambler's hand.

The southerner had remained quietly at the gunslinger's side in case the older man felt the desire to talk, knowing it was a futile gesture, seeing the pain and anger in the hazel eyes a moment before Chris dug his heels into the sides of his mount sending the animal into a gallop leaving the con man behind. Ezra sadly stared after the man, a feeling of utter helplessness washing over him.

Knowing the gunman was in turmoil, Standish had taken it upon himself to give Chris a release for all the emotions tearing at his insides. The southerner had feared the man would turn his anger on one of the other men, thereby destroying the still fragile friendships they had all struggled to build. He refused to allow Chris' self-hatred to shatter JD or the youngster's hero worship. He couldn't permit the man's actions to drive a wedge between Larabee and Tanner nor could he allow the older man's actions to reopen his wounded relationship with Wilmington which was finally beginning to heal.

When hurting, Chris struck out, aiming his thoughtless words and deeds at those closest to him. He made up his mind he could simply stand in the breech between the gunman and the other five, permitting those hurtful actions to be directed at him instead.

It wasn't difficult. From the beginning Ezra had always been an easy target for the gunslinger's hatred although with each day he remained in Four Corners he found it harder not to let the hurtful words penetrate the walls around his heart. He greatly admired and respected the gunslinger and to his own amazement found himself wishing Chris would someday be able to say the same about him. In his heart, Ezra knew it was a wasted wish. How could someone as forthright and honest as Larabee like...let alone respect...a man such as himself who had spent his entire life cheating and conning others out of their hard earned money?

Ezra's thoughts were suddenly pulled back to the present, at the soft notes of an harmonica drifting on the air. Gazing about the town that wasn't much bigger then his final destination a smile of surprise and confusion settled on his handsome face at the sight of the familiar chestnut gelding tied to the hitch rail in front of the nearest saloon.

As if sensing his owner's presence, Chaucer's head snapped up and he whinnied stomping and pawing the ground in delight as Ezra approached.

"Well my old friend just what are you doing so far from home?"

The horse moved closer pressing his head against the gambler displaying how much he'd missed his human as Standish rubbed the gelding's velvety muzzle.

"Reckon he figured this is where you'd spend the rest stop." Vin Tanner drawled dropping the musical instrument into his pocket and stepping from the shadows. "Welcome back Ez. How's yer ma?"

"Vin!" Ezra enthusiastically pumped the Texan's hand not bothering to hide his pleasure at seeing his friend. "Maude's fine. Thank you for your concern. Are you here on business for the judge?"

"Nope. Needed ta get outta town for awhile." Confused, Vin didn't have the opportunity to question the worry he saw in the gambler's emerald eyes. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared when Chaucer decided his man hadn't yet paid him enough attention and gave the tracker a strong nudge almost knocking him off his feet.

Ezra chuckled as he reached out to grasp the reins the animal had pulled free of the rail. "There is no need for rudeness my friend. Especially to one who has treated you so kindly in my absence." He was well aware Vin and JD had taken care of Chaucer while he was away.

"Thought maybe ya'd be tired a bein' bounced around that rollin' bruise maker..." Vin offered softly in explanation of his presence.

"Truer words were never spoken Mr. Tanner." Ezra interrupted. "If you'll excuse me for a moment I'll find the driver and inform him that I will no longer be a passenger." With a playful slap to the sharpshooter's shoulder and another to the horse's flank, Standish hurried back in the direction of the stage depot.

"Reckon he's a mite anxious ta get home." Vin grinned, absently reaching up to stroke Chaucer's long nose.

*******

Tanner unobtrusively watched his companion as the two men followed the winding trail. Returning from the depot, Ezra had strapped his carpetbag with the bedroll behind the saddle explaining he had arranged with the driver to have his small trunk delivered to the church if the stage arrived in Four Corners before they did.

Assuring the sharpshooter that an extra night on the trail would be perferable to some of the lump filled mattresses upon which he'd slept in towns along the stage route, Ezra had treated Vin to a nice meal at the restaurant and a drink at the saloon before they had started for home.

Ambling along, not pressed by any time constraints, neither man seemed to mind that with less than a half day of light they hadn't made much progress. They camped for the night in a small grove of trees several miles from Chesterville.

Ezra had chattered happily about Denver and his mother's latest exploits, new inventions he'd seen or heard about and news that hadn't yet reached their small corner of the world.

Sitting beside the small campfire, actually enjoying the tracker's overly strong coffee, Ezra questioned Vin about the happenings in Four Corners during his absence and about the peacekeepers...asking about Josiah's progress with the church repairs, JD's romance with the young Miss Wells and which of the young ladies at Miss Glenda's House of Companionship was the current object of Buck's attention.

It wasn't until the gambler had fallen into an exhausted sleep that Vin realized, Ezra hadn't once asked about Larabee.

*******

Getting an early start the following morning, they passed the day in casual conversation or comfortable silence. As they rode, the sharpshooter glanced again at the man beside him, pleased to see the expression of relaxed contentment on the gambler's face. It had been a long while since he'd seen that look. Drawing his gaze from his companion, he glanced skyward.

"Reckon we best be findin' some shelter." Tanner commented. "Storm comin' in and we won't be reachin' Silver City afore it hits."

Ezra nodded in deference to the tracker. He knew from experience to trust Vin's instincts when it came to the wilderness. Like the Indians who roamed the territory the Texan seemed as much a part of the earth as the foliage or the wild animals that inhabited the forest.

Tanner motioned to the left. "There's a cave couple miles from here. Big enough to shelter us and the horses..."

"Then lead on McDuff." Standish waved his hand elaborately.

Vin reined back, "Who?"

"You Mr. Tanner." Ezra chuckled as the sharpshooter glanced around as if expecting to suddenly find a third person in their party. "As always I bow to your expertise."

*******

Larabee stood in the door of the jail, sipping his coffee and watching the rain turn the town's main street to mud. He wasn't worried about his two missing men being out in the weather. Both of them had sense enough to come in out of the rain although there had been times when he had begun to wonder...Still he knew, Tanner would make certain they were protected from the elements and Ezra....

Ezra.

He sighed heavily at the thought of the gambler. Damn, he had a lot of making up to do when Ezra finally dragged his ass back home.

Thinking back, Chris realized it had been almost a week after Standish had left for Denver before his anger had finally run its course. It had ended with a bottle of whiskey while watching Sarah's letter turn to ashes in his cabin's fireplace. It had taken that bottle and several others before it to wash the last of the heartache from his veins.

When he had sobered up, Chris knew Ezra hadn't deserved the treatment he'd received at the hands of his boss and with a clear mind once more the blond realized the gambler's intentions each time he had placed himself in the gunslinger's direct line of fire. The gambler had done the only thing he could think of to keep this makeshift family of theirs together. He had, in essence, kept Larabee from tearing the seven men apart. In taking the brunt of the gunslinger's bitterness, he had prevented Larabee from destroying the bond he shared with Tanner, from ripping Buck's heart to tiny shreds again or belittling JD, turning the youth into a bitter young man.

Chris sighed again, shifting to lean against the doorjamb, as his gaze searched the distance. He knew the gambler presented himself to the world as a selfish, heartless bastard who only cared about money yet the Hoosier could still see him standing there, quietly absorbing Larabee's pain and fury to selflessly protect the others just as he had stood at their side using his guns or his silver tongue to keep them alive.

At the time, Larabee's hateful words had seemingly rolled off the con man like rain off a slate roof, however, the more he thought on it Chris couldn't seem to forget the quick glimpses of pain that flashed in the green eyes before the gambler was able to hide them behind his poker face. Try as he might, the gunslinger couldn't make himself believe they were simply figments of his imagination.

Yep, a helluva lot of making up to do.

*******

"Everybody sure missed ya, Ez." Tanner commented watching as Standish shuffled the deck of cards with agile fingers.

Ezra had been surprised when the spacious cave, its entrance noticeable only if a person were carefully searching for it, held not only a stockpile of dry wood but a stack of sun cured grass for the horses as well. Vin had explained early travelers to the territories had often used the cave to hide from marauding indians, pointing out it was common practice for each person who used the cave to replenish the wood pile and hay.

Ezra had mulled over the sense of that as he had taken care of the animals and built a small fire while Vin had filled the canteens from a tiny creek and set several snares.

The rain had begun as they prepared a dinner of beans and biscuits and Vin's eyes had lit up when Ezra opened a tin of peaches for dessert.

Realizing the tracker was awaiting his response, the gambler shrugged. "I'm sure there are those who would have been especially pleased if I had decided to take up permanent residence in Denver." The con man scoffed, his green eyes on the cards he quickly dealt.

"Ya wasn't thinkin' 'bout doin' that was ya?...Stayin' there I mean." The long haired man questioned quietly, a hurt tone creeping into the words.

"Perhaps for a moment." Ezra shrugged again, unwillingly to lie to the tracker.

"So how come ya didn't?" The sharpshooter questioned after several minutes of silence. "From the way ya talked it's a pretty excitin' place with lots a fancy saloons and plenty a things ta do like them operas and things ya was tellin' me 'bout."

Ezra rubbed the back of his neck, realizing that very same question had plagued him since his exit from Denver. "While it's true, that city has the culture and sophistication that Four Corners sorely lacks, the company wasn't nearly as stimulating."

Tanner twisted the sentence around in his mind, a slow lopsided grin spreading across his tanned face as comprehension of the fancy phrasing became clear. "You're sayin' ya missed us! So did ya bring us presents?" he quizzed like a child on Christmas morning.

"I shall vehemently deny any such accusation. Why ever would I miss such an unruly, uncouth group of misfits as resides in that dusty backwater hamlet?" Ezra's own smile widened, his emerald eyes twinkling mischieviously.

"Cause it's just natural ta miss yer family." The tracker pressed. "Well?"

"I can assure you Mr. Tanner, I certainly didn't miss those Godawful concoctions of Nathan's or Josiah's lectures on morality or JD's terrible jokes or Buck's latest tall tales of his amorous adventures."

Yet even as he was denying those very things, Vin was close enough to Ezra to know the con man had indeed missed all of those things...with the possible exception of Nathan's healing teas...and the astute tracker hadn't failed to notice that once again Larabee hadn't been mentioned. "But ya did miss me didn't ya?."

"It would be hard not to miss you Mr. Tanner." The gambler admitted, adding, "You don't exactly blend in with the crowd."

Vin chose to ignore the second half of the statement happy enough the southerner had in his own way missed him and the other men.

Worry reappeared in the green eyes as the gambler quickly changed the direction of the conversation. "You stated you had to get out of town for a while...Was there trouble?"

What the gambler really wanted to know without flat out asking was about Chris. With a sinking feeling, he couldn't help but wonder that without him being there giving Larabee a direction for his wrath, the quick tempered gunslinger had said or done something so horrendous as to drive the loyal Texan away.

"Nope. Just needed some air." Vin kept the pair of nines tossing the remaining three cards face down in the middle of the spread blanket they were using for a table. "Reckon iffen ya had decided ta stay there, Denver woulda got a lot more excitin'."

"Why thank you Mr. Tanner. I've always believed I added a certain touch of class and a zestful excitement wherever I am." The gambler quipped.

"Yeah ya have a way of livenin' things up but I was thinkin' more 'bout how Chris sure woulda tore that city apart lookin' for ya. Ya think that stage was uncomfortable just imagine makin' the trip hog-tied and slung over the back of a horse." He joked, his blue eyes twinkling. "I'm here ta tell ya, he 'bout drove p'or ol' Homer crazy. Man musta checked at least twice a day wantin' ta know if ya'd sent a wire."

"I assure you Mr. Larabee needn't have feared facing Judge Travis' wrath due to my absence. The good judge no longer holds my fate in his hands. My only obligation now is my word to you and the others that I would help protect your home." Ezra kept his gaze on the cards, dealing three to Vin and taking one for himself.

Tanner snorted. "Hell, he weren't worried 'bout the judge none. Was worried 'bout you.... He missed ya." The quiet words were filled with sincerity as he added, "We all did."

"Thank you, but I highly doubt Mr. Larabee gave more than a passing thought to my extended leave Mr. Tanner." Standish forced a smile. "With you and the others as well as the charming Miss Travis to keep him company I'm sure his time was quite occupied."

"Like I said it's only natural to miss yer family." Like Larabee, Vin believed in saying what was on his mind. Unlike Larabee who more often than not forged straight ahead letting the pieces fall where they may, Tanner tried the tactful approach first. "Maybe he was afraid he wouldn't get a chance to apologize for the way he was actin'...ya know...before..."

Ezra quietly murmured, "There were reasons."

"Always are...but that don't mean you always gotta step in and take the shit." The sharpshooter rushed on before Ezra could deny the accusation. "We all got demons, Ez. Ol' Chris more than his share, but we're all growed men...Ya ain't gotta try ta protect us all the time. Hell, even JD knows Chris don't mean the things he says when he's a drunken jackass."

Ezra refused to look up. He should have known the eagle eyed sharpshooter had discerned his motives. The poetic warrior, a study himself in human nature was more observant than anyone Ezra knew, other than himself or Maude. The unique young man had a way of blending into his surroundings, watching the happenings around him and studying events before forming an honest opinion...one that was usually correct.

Standish, himself, had learned from a young age to read people and situations. He'd learned to ignore or hide his feelings behind a poker face. He had become an expert at it but had discovered it was becoming harder to conceal himself from the six peacekeepers and especially the lean man seated on the other side of the blanket.

Ezra had spent his younger life helping his mother run cons. As a child, when he wasn't needed for a scam, he'd been dropped at the homes of unwillingly relatives. He'd never had friends. He'd never allowed himself to grow close to anyone because he'd found it hurt less when he was eventually sent away and because to his dismay, he'd learned the hard way, his mother's warnings were true. If you let people close they used you and tossed you aside. Life and Maude had taught that lesson all too well. Now as a grown man, the only way Ezra knew to display what he felt for these men he worked beside, was to do everything possible to keep them together.

They were all aware of the past that haunted Larabee. They all understood the unbearable torment that drove him to lash out at anyone who got in his line of fire, but that didn't stop the words from hurting. Understanding didn't always impede the damage caused by that agony.

Ezra, still a novice at friendship and wanting to do what he could for these men whom he'd grown to care about so deeply, had done the only thing he knew to do. He had shown his own friendship by taking Larabee's wrath upon himself to prevent the gunslinger from crippling his relationship with the other men who had in effect replaced his family.

"Mr. Tanner, there's no need to consider my actions in a noble light. There's no reason for any of you to bear the brunt of his anger. Even drunk, Mr. Larabee says nothing to me he hasn't said or thought sober. I fully understand my function in this rather unorthodox group. Mr. Larabee allows me to remain in Four Corners as long as my skills, running a con, cheating or confusing some fool intent on wrecking havoc are useful." Standish stated the facts as he saw them but Vin heard the undertone of sadness the gambler tried to hide. "When that is no longer true I will no longer be needed." He left the words 'or wanted' unspoken.

"That ain't so Ez!" Vin's voice raised in vehement denial.

"While I may...rearrange...the truth when dealing with marks I am unfailingly honest with myself. You see Mr. Tanner, I know exactly what people think of me...I know you, Buck, JD and Josiah think of me as a friend and I thank you for that. I know with his youthful unjaded innocence JD will always give me the benefit of the doubt. I know Buck's loyalty will hold him steadfast until he's proven wrong. I know Josiah is intent on saving me from myself." He permitted himself a small smile. "And my multitude of sins. I know while he may no longer consider me completely corrupt, I'm a constant reminder to Nathan of everything he hates about the south.

"I know you overlook my numerous faults accepting them as part of who I am and I know that while Mr. Larabee tolerates my presence, no matter what I do, he will never place in me the unfailing trust he gives the rest of you...And I know that's as it should be." The gambler shuffled and redealt. "I know that in the back of everyone's mind there will always be that inkling of doubt that when it comes right down to it I won't be there when needed." Ezra paused, studying the tracker for a moment. "Except you..." His voice softened, "You always expect the best."

The con man quickly regathered the cards sliding the deck into his jacket pocket. "The trip must have taken a greater toll than I imagined as I find myself exceptionally weary." He set about arranging his bedroll.

Vin watched the southerner carefully fold the jacket and vest laying them aside before stretching out, using the extra blanket for a pillow. "Don't ya wanna know why?" He questioned quietly.

"Why what, Mr. Tanner?"

"Ya wanna know why I always expect the best..."

Ezra was curious in spite of himself. Pushing himself up on his elbow he nodded.

"It's cause I know the men I ride with." Vin grinned. "I know JD's sense of right and wrong will always make him want ta rush ta the rescue and Buck will always be there ta knock some sense into him. I know Josiah's crows will never stop him from trying ta help those in need. I know Nathan will always fight his own prejudice. I know you think ya always gotta go that extra mile ta prove yerself and I know Larabee can be a bastard drunk or sober but he's a fair man." Tanner tossed another piece of wood into the flames. "I know without a doubt if needed the men I ride with will be watching my back...All six of them. And I know fer a fact you're more afraid of what you'll do than we are." The sharpshooter crawled into his own bedroll and settled down among the blankets.

Ezra stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head and laying back down closing his eyes.

A slow smile graced his features as from the other side of the fire came a soft question. "So...did ya bring us presents?"

*******

Sipping his coffee, Vin glanced at the morning sky. The rain had abated late in the night but from the looks of the low hanging clouds, it would begin again in a few hours. Silver City was a two hour ride. They could wait out the weather in the dry comfort of the saloon and be home by sunset the following day.

He glanced back at the gambler, still curled on his side, sleep erasing the lines of cynicism and making the con man appear barely older than JD. A light sleeper himself, Tanner knew Ezra had lain awake long into the night contemplating the sharpshooter's words.

Vin, himself, had given a lot of thought to what Ezra had said as well. The gambler was an expert at reading people, and was seldom wrong in that regard, but somehow couldn't see or believe that he had been accepted as one of their family. Accepted, perhaps for the first time in his life, for who he was, idiosyncrasies and all. The Texan wasn't naive enough to discard the gambler's words without proper consideration. He knew most of what Ezra had said was true...or had been at one time. However, people had changed. In many ways they had all changed, the gambler most of all.

The man had proved time and again how much the others meant to him. He had stood at their side and watched their backs. Ezra hadn't hesitated in riding with them to Chris' rescue when the gunslinger had been falsely imprisoned. He hadn't given a second thought to helping the Chinese at the railroad camp or taking on the Nichols. In a dozen ways Ezra had proved himself to Larabee and the other five but the gambler's self doubt still lingered coloring his view of himself and how they thought of him.

A small smile graced the sharpshooter's lips as he thought both Chris and Ezra would whump him senseless if he ever pointed out how much alike the seemingly opposite men truly were. Both were caring men who because of circumstances in their lives had difficulty showing their feelings. Both were as stubborn as the day was long and as hard headed as a Missouri mule. While Larabee rode straight ahead toward a solution, Ezra took the back route, reaching the same destination. Standish expressed his feelings and opinions in long convaluted speeches that confused everyone and left them wondering what he'd truly said while Chris silently expressed his through actions and looks.

Yep, the tracker realized they were a lot alike and both held high regard in his eyes. One for the honest man he was and the other for the honest man he was trying to become.

Hopefully, Chris would find a way to show the southerner just how much he'd been missed and how happy the gunslinger was to have him home. If not, green eyed glares or no, him and Tanner were going to have a long serious knock down drag out heart to heart.

Gulping the last of the strong brew, the tracker set the cup aside and slipped out of the cave to check the snares. He'd let Ezra sleep until breakfast was ready.

*******

Following the teachings of the natives he'd lived with, Vin thanked the animal for the sacrifice of its life and the Great Spirit for providing the nourishment before he set about skinning the rabbit entrapped in the snares he'd placed. Knowing when Standish did eat breakfast it was rarely more than a few bites, Tanner had released the other animals unfortunate enough to be captured. He was not one given to waste or to kill unnecessarily.

If his thoughts hadn't been occupied with the problem of Chris and Ezra he might have been aware of the danger sooner. As it was the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood up with the sense he was being watched. His blue eyes quickly scanning the surrounding area for an escape route, Vin turned making the move look casual, hiding his right hand as it dropped to the weapon resting in the holster against his thigh.

*******

Ezra jerked upright, his hand automatically reaching for his Colt revolver laying on the blanket at his side, as the unmistakable sound of a rifle shot echoed across the canyon. Rolling to his feet, the gambler moved in a crouch to the mouth of the cave.

There were no further shots and with a self deprecating grin, the gambler realized it was probably Vin out hunting their breakfast. He snickered softly, thinking this was a sure sign he'd spent too much time in the civilized world of Denver. Returning to the remaining embers of the campfire, the con man pulled on his boots and reached for the coffee pot grimacing at the thought of the mud which Tanner considered coffee. His hand stopped an inch from the handle as his green-eyed gaze came to rest on the rifle still leaning against the bow of Vin's saddle.

Hastily strapping on his weapons, Ezra once more crossed to the cave entrance stepping back into the shadows as the sound of unfamiliar voices drifted to him, growing closer. Fervently praying the two saddle horses remained silent, the intruders didn't smell the smoke or discover the cave, Standish pulled his Colt, listening intently, hoping to overhear the stranger's conversation.

"Damnit, I know I hit 'im!"

"Well then where the hell is he Blake?"

"What the hell do I look like...some Gypsy fortune teller?" The man retorted sarcastically.. "You're supposed ta be such a hotshot tracker but ya couldn't even catch him followin' a damn road...Shoulda just grabbed him in town."

"And take a chance he had friends with him. What if he hooked up with that fancy dressed feller he was talkin' to?""

"If he did, they ain't tagether no more."

"And just how the hell do ya know that wiseass?...Ya said yerself there was two horses."

"One was probably a packhorse idiot! He was by himself and was only skinnin' one rabbit..."

"Both a ya shut the hell up!" A third voice put a temporary end to the argument. "I cain't believe I hooked up with a couple a losers like you!"

Staying close to the ground, the southerner carefully peered through the bushes concealing the mouth of the cave. He could see two of the three men through the leaves as they walked their horses, their eyes on the ground, their weapons drawn as they searched the area working their way up from the ravine. Standish slid back into the shadows as the third rider came into view, the man's angry gaze sweeping the surrounding hillside.

"He has ta be round here somewhere Clive..." One of the men grumbled.

"Did ya see him back there with that damn dead rabbit? Huh?...Do ya see 'im round here anywheres?...Do ya see his horse?"

Ezra flinched recognizing all too well the sound of the back of a hand meeting the soft skin of a cheek.

"Bastard's gone and so's our five hunnerd dollars lessen we catch up with 'im."

"What if that other fella is with him?" The first man repeated.

"That's his tough luck. There's probably a bounty on his head too."

His heart pounding in his chest, Ezra called on every ounce of will power to sit patiently while the men made another search. He waited, wanting nothing more than to rush down the ravine and search every inch until he found Vin. He waited, desperately fighting the desire to put a bullet through each man's heart, earning the bounty they thought might be on his head. He waited knowing that to leave his concealment too soon could mean drawing the unwanted attention of the three men. He waited. His only consolement was the fact they hadn't been able to find Tanner. The tracker was still alive...He just had to be.

*******

When a reasonable amount of time had passed for the men to have searched once more and be looking elsewhere, Ezra stepped from the cave, remaining hidden in the foliage, his emerald eyes scanning the area, trying to think like the tracker.

Although he preferred the comforts of a soft bed and civilization, Ezra had spent his fair share of time on the trail, much of it lately in the company of the wilderness savvy Texan.

Tanner had placed snares in hopes of catching breakfast...and been successful according to the three men...Where? Where would be the most likely place....Near the creek! Vin would have placed them near the creek knowing most woodland creatures would seek the water.

Checking again to make sure the three men were long gone, Ezra carefully made his way to the small bed of water that wound through the meadow beneath the cave. Listening for any sound of the men returning, he slowly walked the waterway, searching for anything out of place.

Kneeling beside the half skinned carcass of the jack rabbit, the gambler's searching gaze slowly examined the immediate area. He could discern no immediate hiding place but the tracker was an expert. He'd spent his life in surroundings much like these. If there was a hiding place, Tanner could find it.

"Vin?" His voice barely above a whisper, Ezra repeatedly called the sharpshooter's name. "Vin?"

The southerner's breath caught in his throat as his gaze skimmed over, than returned to what appeared to be nothing more than a pile of leaves among the shrubbery growing beside the remains of a rotted log.

"Vin?"

His heart beginning to beat again, the con man released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as a low moan was emitted and the leaves rustled again. Rushing forward Ezra dropped to his knees and began brushing aside the dead foliage.

Vin groaned again as Standish eased him onto his back, pulling the tracker's bandana from around Tanner's neck and pressing it to the gaping shoulder wound. "Easy Mr. Tanner...You're gonna be okay...You're gonna be just fine."

*******

Ezra eased the semi-conscious tracker down onto the bedroll. It had taken the better part of an hour to get Vin back to the cave, the gambler doing everything possible to stop the blood that began to flow anew each time he moved the other man. Vin didn't need to lose any more blood and on the off chance the three gunmen came back, he didn't want to risk them finding a blood trail.

Throwing several pieces of wood onto the campfire, stirring the embers until they flamed to life, Ezra hurried to kneel at the Texan's side. Ripping the tracker's shirt he pushed the blood soaked material aside, while one handedly fumbling in his saddlebags for anything of use. Pulling several newly purchased shirts from his carpetbag, he wadded one into a thick pad and pressed it against the wound until the bleeding became a slow seep.

After several minutes, Ezra eased the red stained padding away, exposing the skin and as gently as possible cleaned the injury, mentally cursing at discovering the bullet still imbedded in the sharpshooter's shoulder.

"My apologies, Mr. Tanner." Ezra soothed as Tanner tried to move away from the pain. "Just lie still..."

Ripping two of the new shirts into bandages, he dug through the saddle bags, removing the bottle of whiskey, each of the men carried for emergencies.

"E-Ez..."

"Shh...Drink." Supporting the Texan's head, Ezra gave him a small sip from the canteen followed by a large swallow of whiskey.

Letting the sharpshooter rest, Standish gathered the items he would need, placing them close at hand as he settled beside his friend, wiping the man's face with a cloth he'd dampened with water from his canteen.

Vin stared up at him with pain glazed blue eyes his face pale with shock.

"I'm sorry, my friend but that bullet has to come out...Unfortunately I'm no surgeon but I will do my best."

"Kn-know...ya will." Tanner's weak comment was spoken through clenched teeth. Closing his eyes, he relaxed slightly as the wave of pain passed. "Tr-tr-trust ya."

'You shouldn't.'

Giving the tracker several more swallows of whiskey, Ezra busied himself heating water and double checking to be sure he had everything he would need, allowing time for the alcohol to dull the tracker's pain before he was forced to add to it.

Standing at the mouth of the cave, Standish scanned the countryside again to be sure Tanner's attackers hadn't returned. Realizing he couldn't delay any further, Ezra knelt beside his friend. He was surprised to find the sharpshooter watching his actions hoping the combination of liquor and blood loss would have rendered the sharpshooter unconscious, saving him the agony of the gambler's administrations.

'No use putting off the inevitable.'

"Bite on this Mr. Tanner." Ezra placed the folded piece of cloth between Vin's teeth. "As inane as this may sound, try to stay as still as possible." Pouring a portion of the whiskey over the blade, Ezra took a large swallow in a vain attempt to steel his own nerves.

Straddling the tracker, hoping his knees and weight would help hold him still, the southerner paused, the sharp blade hovering above Vin's shoulder pulling the knife away. Damn! He wished Nathan was here or better yet that they were in the clinic in Four Corners.

He couldn't do this! He couldn't sink that knife into his friend's flesh, causing him even more pain! He couldn't!

He jumped, startled by the weak hand that wrapped around his. Emerald eyes stared into azure as Vin drew the sharp instrument close to his shoulder, mumbling around the cloth, "'S...right...Ez."

Taking several deep breaths, fighting the rapidly growing nausea, Ezra gave him a weak smile and gently removing Vin's hand, he rubbed the back of the hand holding the highly honed blade, trying desperately to stop the hand from trembling.

At the slight reassuring squeeze on his forearm, Ezra looked once more at his helpless friend, stunned at the trust and confidence shining in the azure eyes, silently confirming the Texan's earlier words.

With another deep breath, Standish quickly sank the blade into the blood smeared skin, cutting into the injury and widening the bullet entrance as he'd seen Nathan do numerous times.

His painful scream muffled by the cloth clenched in his teeth Vin arched his back almost bucking the gambler aside, as he struggled to escape the pain.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Ezra repeated the mantra, laying his full weight across the younger man even as he was frantically digging for the bullet. It hadn't been deep. He'd felt the tip of the blade brush the metal as he sliced through Tanner's skin. Yet, it seemed to elude his searching blade and he was forced to gouge deeper. The blood began to flow in earnest again, obscuring everything as he struggled to find the small piece of metal with the blade. "I'm sorry, Vin...I'm sorry..." He panted, anguish washing through him at causing the young man such pain.

When it became apparent Vin's agony would continue to override his resolve to remain motionless, with a last apology, the con man slammed his fist into the tracker's jaw sending the sharpshooter into blessed unconsciousness, his slender body twitching with pain tremors.

Working as quickly as possible, Ezra finally located and retrieved the bullet, praying none of the slug had broken free and remained buried in the sharpshooter's flesh. Using the whiskey to clean the wound once more, steeling himself against the whimpers of pain which escaped the unconscious man's lips, he pressed a folded cloth against the injury waiting for the bleeding to stop before bandaging the shoulder. Sitting back on his heels, wiping the sweat from his eyes with a trembling hand, the con man fought the urge to crawl to the back of the cave and empty the contents of his stomach.

Wetting a piece of material torn from the new shirts, the southerner tenderly washed the Texan's face erasing all traces of the younger man's tortured tears. His hand lingered for a moment as he brushed the long hair from the man's face, marveling at how, even in such pain, the tracker had only allowed himself one outcry.

Tucking a blanket over Tanner, Ezra sat back on his heels wrapping his arms around himself, taking several pulls from his flask to refortify himself. He shook his head in amazement, his admiration for the healer growing.

"How the hell does Nathan do it?" He wondered aloud to the unhearing ex-bounty hunter. "How can he stand to watch his friends suffer....I know he forces himself to because we need him, but still...."

*******

Ezra glanced from the motionless figure of the Texan to the darkening sky beyond the cave mouth. He'd spent the day sitting tensely beside his friend listening to the patter of the rain on the foliage, constantly checking the bandage for fresh blood and watching the slight rise and fall of Tanner's chest, his mind busy searching for the best solution to aid his injured friend.

The gambler knew Silver City had a doctor. Nathan had wired him once for advice when little Jenny Thompson had developed a fever for no apparent reason. Ezra had no illusions about his medical skills, Vin needed a doctor and while it was likely the bounty hunters who caused that need would have waited out the weather in the small town, it didn't change that fact one bit.

The rain had faded to a drizzle finally dissapating altogether. Ezra had let the fire die down to embers. The horses were saddled and ready, everything except a canteen and the bedroll Tanner lay on was packed and tied to Peso. Vin wouldn't be able to ride alone and while Peso was probably the stronger of the two animals, the southerner wanted him as fresh as possible.

Hearing the slight moan, Standish quickly crossed to Tanner's side as the tracker fought to open his eyes.

"That's it Mr. Tanner, let me see those blue eyes Miz Lucy finds so irrisistable." Ezra encouraged, giving the tracker a genuine smile of pleasure as the younger man blinked several times trying to clear his vision, the tip of his tongue raking across his dry lips.

"I hate to suggest this Mr. Tanner," Ezra recorked the canteen after giving the sharpshooter several swallows, "but do you think you're up to riding. I feel we should attempt to reach Silver City while the weather permits."

"I-I c-can ride." The words were slurred and a grimace of pain flit across the man's pale face belying the truth.

The gambler rushed to help as unable to hide the pain, Vin struggled to sit up, the returning color draining from his handsome face. Propping the sharpshooter's back against the closest rock wall, Ezra quickly packed and tied the bedroll to Peso, hurrying to the creek and refilling the canteen before draping it over Chaucer's saddlehorn.

Draping Tanner's good arm around his shoulders the gambler eased Vin to his feet quietly telling him to take his time as they moved to where the horses waited outside.

The lean Texan stared at Standish confusion warring with the pain on his face. "Ez...Am I runnin' a fever....or-or are ya...w-wearin' m-my clothes?"

Tanner sagged against the solidness of Ezra's gelding, clinging to the stirrup leather to stay upright. Chaucer remained motionless supporting the tracker's weight as Vin leaned against him gathering his strength.

"The answer to both questions is yes." Ezra guided the sharpshooter's foot into the stirrup and helped Tanner climb into the saddle. Holding the wounded man steady until the Texan no longer swayed, Ezra quickly gathered the reins for both animals and swinging up, he settled on the cantle behind Vin. Wrapping his arms around the semi conscious man, he gently touched his heels to Chaucer's side, starting the animal in the direction of Silver City.

*******

Larabee silently stared at the amber liquid in his glass ignoring the friendly talk around him, his thoughts on his two absent men. He had almost convinced himself the niggling feeling in the back of his mind was nothing more than boredom brought about by the quiet and the rain. He repeatedly told himself there was no reason to worry.

"I got a silver dollar says Vin's done tied and gagged ol' Ez so's he didn't have ta listen ta him bitch about the rain ruinin' his clothes."

The shootist glanced up to meet the reassuring gaze of his oldest friend. Buck's grin and simple nod only seemed to confirm Chris' own thoughts. Even if they'd had a set arrival time, Tanner and Standish wouldn't be considered late getting back yet and the rain would have impeded their progress.

Buck Wilmington had known Chris more years than either of them cared to count. Like Vin, he'd watched as the blond, able to hide it from most people, had become increasingly worried the absent gambler would choose to remain in Denver. The day of Ezra's departure, Buck had seen and recognized the regret in the hazel eyes as Larabee had stood in the doorway of the saloon watching the Denver bound stage disappear in a cloud of dust.

With one look, Buck knew his oldest friend was now experiencing the trepidation of an older brother whose younger siblings were out of sight and into something which might land them in trouble.

"I'll just be glad when our black sheep is back where we can hear him bitch." Josiah admitted with a deep chuckle.

"I'll bet he won lots a money in them fancy gamblin' houses he's always talkin' about." Since the gambler's telegram, the youngest of their group had been fairly vibrating with excitement that they were going to be seven again.

"Doubt it. Hard ta make a profit when everybody's cheatin'." Nathan growled. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd missed the smart mouthed immoral southerner as much as any of the others but it still stung that once again the con man had made a fool out of him.

'Admit it. Ya made a fool outta yerself by jumpin' ta the wrong conclusion again.' The black man's inner voice chided. 'Ya jumped down his throat without askin' a question or givin' him a chance to explain.'

Nathan had been out at Webster's farm when Ezra boarded the outbound stage. The healer didn't have much money but if the debt owed the gamester wasn't too outrageous perhaps they may be able to combine their currency to retrieve the animals, the farmer needed to work his land.

Jackson had been stunned to find the man in the back pasture, his oldest son guiding the plow team in question while the younger children followed their father breaking up the larger clumps of dirt, planting and covering the seeds.

Taking a short break and resting in the shade of a large tree at the edge of the field, Bill had thanked Nathan for his kind and generous offer but it seemed Standish, saying that stabling and feeding the horses would seriously cut into his profits at the gaming tables and since he really had no use for the draft team had suggested the man keep his horses. He had pointed out the farmer could pay his debt after the harvest. Webster had countered the argument with the fact the gambler could turn a handy profit by selling the matched Shire team and when Ezra still refused had offered a bill of sale for the southerner to hold as collatoral.

Again the wily con man had refused saying he knew an honest man like Webster would pay his debt when possible and he himself was in no particular hurry for the money. However, to ease the farmer's conscience Ezra had finally taken a dollar as rent for the team.

The healer had been stunned speechless. Why the hell hadn't Ezra just told Nathan of his arrangement with the farmer? 'Because you tore inta him like a Texas tornado just like always.'

He drew his thoughts back to the present and added his two cents worth to the current conversation. "If he was makin' money he sure wouldn't have any reason ta come back here."

Nathan's derisive comment aimed at his own foul treatment of the gambler caused Larabee to flinch.

"Maybe he won enough ta finally buy back the saloon." Dunne suggested hopefully. He still felt bad about his part, however unintentional, in Maude's scheme to beat her son out of his dream.

"Bet he's barely got enough tucked in them fancy boots a his ta pay for a meal and a round a drinks." Nathan grumbled, although there was no malice in the words.

The sheriff's shoulders slumped. "Well I don't care if he's flat broke and had to sell his fancy wardrobe as long as he's home...I'll loan him some clothes."

Looking from the young sheriff to the healer, Josiah was about to point out that sometimes Nathan needed to think before opening his mouth when Buck spoke up.

"Like that's gonna happen! As picky as he is about his wardrobe, Ezra'd wear that damn checkered table cloth again before he'd dress like any a us....But I'll make sure he gets fed." The womanizer laughed self consciously. "Damn. Never thought I'd be sayin' it but I sure have missed that prissy little bastard."

"Me too."

Chris nodded agreement and everyone hid their smiles behind their glasses at the healer's soft words.

*******

"W-w-why?"

Lost in thought Ezra almost missed the stuttered question. "Judging by the part of their conversation I overheard, I'm assuming the men who ambushed you were after the unjust reward placed upon your somewhat shaggy head."

Tanner shook his head. "M-meant why...ya w-wearin'...m-my clothes."

"Because you, my well garbed friend, are wearing mine."

Standish shifted in the saddle slightly as he felt the tracker looking down, trying to focus on his clothing. The gambler's dark jacket covered the only shirt Ezra hadn't torn into the bandages that now encircled the sharpshooter's chest and Vin's own buckskin coat was draped over his shoulders. "While your own somewhat ratty but beloved coat will help keep away the dampness, the heavier material of my jacket will hopefully prevent a chill." He hoped the younger man would be satisfied with the offered explanation.

"E-Ez...those....m-men..." The gambler's arms tightened around him, feeling a small shudder shake the sharpshooter's lean frame.

"Won't even know you're there. You have my solemn word, those ill mannnered cowards will give you no further trouble....Try to rest Mr. Tanner. We still have a distance to travel but will have you sleeping safely in a nice warm bed before you know it." Ezra's brow furrowed with worry and he adjusted his hold as he felt Vin slowly sag back against his chest. He didn't need to place a gentle hand against the Texan's skin to feel the heat which was beginning to rise in the tracker.

'My word, Vin, if I have my way not only will they never hurt ya again but they'll pay for the pain they've already caused.'

*******

Ezra halted the horses, his green eyes searching Silver City's dark main street. The only illumination spilled onto the boardwalk from the open door of the saloon at the far end of the street.

Fighting his desire to race the horses at an all out right run, wanting to deliver Vin into the capable hands of a doctor as quickly as possible, Ezra had kept the animals at a steady pace, stopping often to let both Chaucer and Tanner rest. It had taken more than twice the normal time to reach the small town but common sense dictated it would do the tracker no good if the animals were injured traversing the rough road in the black of night.

The gambler had passed through Silver City only once before and unfortunately had paid little attention to the lay out of the town, however, in his travels Standish had discovered that most western towns were laid out in the same pattern. The main street almost always was made up of businesses with the residents homes attached or sitting on the quieter back streets. The question was...where was this town's doctor located.

Drawing his Colt, Ezra wrapped his arm around the sharpshooter's waist, hiding the weapon out of sight under the jackets Tanner wore. At the gentle nudge of his man's heels, Chaucer wearily started forward, Peso following, their forward plodding muffled by the mud rutted street.

Intent on searching the deep shadows for signs of danger, his gaze constantly returning to the saloon entrance, Ezra almost missed the small sign hanging from the corner of the Mercantile which indicated Dr. Riley General Practioner and Setter of Bones was located at the end of the alley.

Drawing rein and dropping to the ground in front of the tiny house, Ezra reholstered the weapon and gently wrapped the tracker's hands around the saddlehorn assuring Vin he would return momentarily.

Praying the man wasn't out on some call, Ezra cringed as his soft knock seemed to echo like cannon fire through the silent town. About to knock again, the hand dropped to his side as a light appeared in the window beside the door.

"Yes?" A little gnome of a man holding a kerosene lamp pulled open the door.

"Dr. Riley? I need your help." Not waiting to explain, the gambler hurried back to Tanner's side.

The doctor set the lamp on the table and scurried to help as Standish eased the sharpshooter from the saddle. Ezra efficently explained the wound and what he'd done for treatment as they moved Tanner into the house and to a back room the doctor used for treating patients.

Gently placing the now unresponsive Texan on the bed, Standish grimaced seeing the blood staining the front of the injured man's shirt.

A white haired lady that reminded the gambler of what he'd always pictured Mrs. Claus should look like, bustled into the room, tying her robe and pushing back her thick gray hair.

"Go take care of your horses young man, we'll take care of your brother." She ordered, pushing the gambler aside and moving to help her husband. "The livery is at the south end of town just past-"

Loathe to leave the sharpshooter alone with these strangers even though they meant well, Ezra shook his head. "I'd best not-"

"There's a small lean-to behind the house." She interrupted practically pushing him out the door. "You can put them there. There's hay in the mow and some oats in the feed box outside the back door...Go on now! You tend those poor critters and we'll tend him."

She turned to help her husband and Ezra, realizing he couldn't do anything to further aid his friend, slipped out to see to Chaucer and Peso. It was the least he could do for his friend's horse and his own faithful companion who had gotten them this far.

*******

His worried gaze constantly drifting to the house, Ezra filled the trough with water and finding only one feed bag, let Peso eat while he brushed down Chaucer. Switching the feedbag to the chestnut, the gambler worked methodically, brushing Peso's black coat until it shone, giving the same care to Tanner's trusted steed as to his own, his mind seeking any flaws in his plan.

Checking the darkness for any unwanted observers, Standish slipped back into the house bracing himself for the doctor's news that he'd made a grievous mistake while removing the bullet which could cost Vin his life.

Looking up as Ezra re-entered the room, the doctor nodded. "You did a good job young man." Dr. Riley smiled washing the blood from his hands, satisfied he'd done all he could for the injured man.

His wife finished tying off the fresh bandages, which now replaced the shredded strips of shirt and tucked a blanket around the Texan as lovingly as she would a small child before hurrying from the room.

Dr. Riley explained that he'd cleaned the wound again and stitched it closed before mixing medicine to fight Vin's fever. "He's lost quite a bit a blood and is runnin' a bit of a fever but that's ta be expected with an injury of this sort. He seems a strong healthy fella so with bed rest he should be fine."

"Thank the Lord." Ezra whispered , closing his eyes and sagging back against the door frame with relief. He felt gentle hands grasp his arm and gave into their light pull, struggling to focus eyes which were suddenly filled with tears of relief.

"Is he wanted?"

"Excuse me." The soft question fully captured the gambler's attention and he blinked, glancing at the doctor, surprised to find himself seated in a chair beside the bed. He hadn't been aware of the direction or the person who had steered him across the room or Mrs. Riley's gentle hand guiding him to the seat, placing a blanket around his own shoulders.

"Well, you obviously didn't want to stable your horses in the livery which indicates you don't want anyone knowing you're here and while I'm not a pryin' man you haven't mentioned how he came to be shot. I'm assuming it's because your brother is a wanted man."

"He's one of the peacekeepers in Four Corners." It wasn't a lie. Ezra simply chose to omit the part of the story that included Tascosa and the unjust bounty placed on Vin. "We both are...That's how I knew yer name...Reminds me, knowin' we'd be passing through town, Nathan Jackson wanted us to thank ya for yer help and let ya know the Thompson girl is fully recovered." Again it wasn't a lie. Nathan would have wanted them to thank Dr. Riley and the statement wiped any doubt from the doctor's eyes. Ezra hesitated, wondering how far he should trust these people but saw nothing but concern in their eyes. "We's ambushed a few hours from here. I reckon the fellas are here in town or at least still lookin' for him." The southerner did his best impression of Tanner's Texas drawl.

"I suppose we should inform Sheriff Tate of the situation."

"I swear David, your memory gets worse everyday." Mrs. Riley reentered the room. Setting the tray she carried on the bedside table she passed a cup of coffee to her husband and taking one for herself ordered Ezra to eat saying she expected him to finish both the bowl of vegetable soup and the ham sandwich she'd prepared. "The sheriff left yesterday takin' a prisoner over to Apache Point to meet the prison wagon. Joe Barnes...he's the blacksmith," she added in deference to Ezra, "...is actin' as deputy."

"These are dangerous men...No offense to yer Joe Barnes but lessen he's a professional lawman I don't think he should be tryin' ta take 'em on..." The gambler hesitated, his worried gaze falling on Tanner's flushed face as the younger man stirred and moaned softly.

Motioning Ezra to remain seated, Mrs. Riley placed a cool cloth on the sharpshooter's forehead. "You finish eating son. I'll tend him.

The southerner gave her a grateful nod as he nibbled at the sandwich. "I don't wanna bring trouble to ya or yer town but I'd 'preciate it iffen ya could watch over him while I take care a the men who done this ta him."

The doctor appraised him with somber eyes. "How you intend to do that young man?"

"Reckon I'll just lead 'em back ta Four Corners where I'll have plenty a help." Ezra shrugged giving him a wry grin.

"Enough talk!" Seeing the gambler's weariness, Mrs. Riley took the tray and shooing her husband from the room, turned down the lamp barely illuminating the room. "Try and rest young man. I reckon you'll wanna stay with your brother but you're welcome to use the bed in the next room. David and I will be right across the hall if you need us." With a reassuring smile she left him alone with his friend.

*******

Ezra's hand dropped to the weapon strapped on his thigh as the door slowly opened. The gambler relaxed offering a dimpled smile as Mrs. Riley peeked into the room before entering with a tray containing a plate of biscuits and gravy and cup of fresh coffee.

The southerner had spent the remainder of the night dozing at Vin's bedside, coming fully awake each time his friend shifted on the bed offering a comforting word or touch against the younger man's pain.

Keeping one eye on Ezra to make sure the con man ate his breakfast, the little woman helped her husband as the doctor checked Tanner's injury, pleased to see the wound clear of infection and his fever had almost completely dissapated.

"I 'preciate all yer help. Reckon it'll be a few days afore he feels up ta travelin' but by then our friends and me should have everythin' takin' care of." Gulping the last of the coffee, the gambler slipped into the battered old buckskin coat, adjusting the tracker's wide brimmed slouch hat on his head before pressing a wad of bills into the woman's hand. "This should pay for yer services and anythin' else he needs till someone comes for him."

"Don't ya worry about your brother none." Knowing it would be ungracious to refuse, the doctor's wife dropped the money into her apron pocket without bothering to count it. She'd been a small town doctor's wife long enough to know cash was hard to come by and most people paid what they could.

"E-...E..."

Kneeling at the side of the bed, Ezra supported Vin's head as the doctor held a glass of water to his lips, quickly following it with the potion to help fight the fever.

"Ez..." Tanner blinked rapidly in confusion. "W-why..."

"Shh...Yer safe here...Doctor and Mrs Riley are takin' good care a ya...Ya just rest and get well." He kept his voice soft and soothing as he gently stroked the tracker's long hair. "There'll be plenty a time for explainin' later...Ya just worry 'bout gettin' better."

"Ez...W-why...?"

"Shh...Go back ta sleep...Told ya I'd have ya convalesin' in a nice comfortable bed." The gambler smiled watching the sharpshooter fight his weakness, weariness and the medicine. "Everythin's gonna be okay...Someone'll come for ya real quick. Gave ya my word they wouldn't hurt ya no more and I mean ta keep it." Ezra leaned closer to the tracker's ear, his voice barely audible if Vin had been awake. "You're a good man, Vin Tanner....Thank you for being my friend."

With a last searching look at the tracker's pale face, Ezra backed from the bed and moved for the door, snugging the old gray hat down lower to hide the moisture gathering in his eyes.

"We'll take good care a him. You watch out for yourself." Mrs. Riley pat his arm as the gambler hesitated in the doorway. With a quick nod and low murmur of thanks he hurried from the house.

*******

Knickering, Chaucer stamped his feet impatiently tossing his head as if demanding an explanation when his owner tightened the cinch fastening his saddle to Peso's back.

"Sorry my old friend, but Peso is an essential part of this particular con." Ezra rubbed the chestnut's velvety muzzle. "Never fear though I have a very important job for you. I'm trusting you to watch over our friend."

With a final pat to Chaucer's flank and a last look at the tiny home of the doctor and his wife, Ezra led the black onto the main street heading for the telegraph office.

*******

"I'm afraid we must push on Peso, my friend."

Weary muscles screamed in protest as Standish pulled himself into the saddle having let the horse rest near the stream that ran through the hills, passing behind the dusty little town he now called home. "The good news is, in just over a hour we shall be home. You can be certain I will see to it that you are well rewarded for the effort you have put forth." He gently stroked the sweat slick neck. "And know your human is safe because of what we've done."

Ezra was exhausted. The gambler had done little more than doze in the chair beside Vin's sick bed since that first night spent in the cave. The lack of sleep, worry for his friend and the strain of the events the last thirty six hours were taking their toll.

That morning, astride Peso, Ezra had kept the powerful animal at an easy pace as he had urged the gelding down the main street, glancing over his shoulder as he passed the last building at the edge of Silver City, giving exactly the appearance he desired...That of a man trying a little too hard to appear as if he had nothing to hide.

Earlier, he had checked the livery and easily recognized the pie-bald roan and mud colored gelding he'd seen the day before. It worried him that the most recognizable creature...the leopard Appaloosa ridden by the apparent leader of the three was no where in sight.

Paying for the quickly written telegram, Ezra had secured the operator's promise the wire would be sent as soon as the lines, damaged in the storm, were repaired.

Wanting to be certain he was spotted by the bounty hunters, the southerner had spent an hour wandering the town, buying several items at the Mercantile, examining the weapons for sale at the gunsmith's and purchasing a bottle of whiskey from the saloon.

As he moved about the town, Ezra kept Vin's hat pulled low, hiding his face, refusing to meet anyone's eyes and carefully avoiding the sheriff's office, giving every indication of a man who didn't want to be noticed.

The con man knew it was risky but from the snippets of conversation he'd overheard while they searched for Tanner, the gambler thought it a safe bet the men wouldn't take the chance of attempting a capture in town where the law might intervene.

Glancing over his shoulder as the town became nothing more than barely discernable shapes on the horizon, just as he had suspected and hoped, the con man was certain he spied at least two riders setting out in his wake. With a grim expression, knowing the chase was on, Standish dug his heels into Peso's side. As the animal surged ahead, Ezra adjusted his seat and gave the animal its head, the gelding's sharp hoofs cutting a very visible trail through the drying mud.

Wanting to be sure they continued to follow him without arousing suspicions that he was leading them exactly where he intended, Ezra had cut a winding trail through the countryside allowing them close enough to keep him in sight occasionally but not slowing to within shooting distance.

The gambler had trouble keeping his thoughts on the job at hand, discovering his mind constantly returning to the small house in Silver City and the pale figure he'd left in the more than capable hands of Doctor and Mrs. Riley.

Standish had to admire the couple. He hadn't expected the doctor to question him about Vin being wanted by the law. If they had truly been dangerous men the question would have put him in danger but the knowledge would let him protect his wife.

They may not have believed him. One or both of them may have thought there was more to the story behind Vin's injury but that hadn't prevented them from giving their help. He hadn't failed to notice neither the physcian nor his wife had asked either his name or that of their current houseguest. If anyone came asking they could honestly say although they didn't know his name judging by the fancy shirt and expensive jacket their patient appeared to be a drummer or businessman from back east.

Yes they supposed he could possibly be a gambler. Yes he had been traveling with a fella who appeared to be some sort of mountain man. Yes the man had sounded as if he might be from around Texas somewhere. No neither man had offered their name.

Ezra told himself he hadn't corrected their assumption that Tanner was his brother because it furthered his small deception but in truth...He liked the thought of having Vin Tanner for a brother. The men in Four Corners were the closest thing to family he'd ever known. The Texan had been the first to show his trust in and offer his friendship to the con man. Yes he longed to have the honest kind hearted sharpshooter for a brother.

Try as he might, Standish had found himself ignoring Maude's teachings and coming to care for the group of misfits he worked and fought beside. He had been appalled to discover himself seeking their approval and actually wanting to belong to their unorthodox family.

He knew when Vin was able and aware he would be angry as hell at Ezra for the course of action he was taking but just as he did every con he ran, the cardsharp had given considerable thought to his plan examining all the options and weighing his chance of success.

Tanner would have to understand. To Ezra, assuming the sharpshooter's identity was nothing more than a con, just like any other job he or his mother had run. In actuality, it was quite simple. He would arrive in Four Corners ahead of his pursurers and with a simple change of clothes and a quick shave to rid himself of the two day stubble he would once again become Ezra Standish. He was certain if the men following him persisted in looking for Vin Tanner in town, Larabee and the others could persuade the bounty hunters it would be in their best interest to seek another source of income.

Wiping the sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand, the wiley cardsharp guided Peso through the thick foliage back to the road leading to Four Corners.

******

"Staring at that road ain't gonna make our little brothers appear any quicker." The deep baritone voice pointed out.

"That what you kept tellin' yourself while ya was sittin' up there on that church roof most the day?" Leaning against the wall of the jail, Chris spared the ex-priest a quick glance. "And don't give me no crap about fixin' the damn roof cause ya ran outta shingles two weeks ago."

Although Vin and Ezra weren't past due, taking into account the weather and the fact the stage rarely ran on schedule, Larabee hadn't been able to rid himself of the nagging feeling trouble had somehow found his two friends.

He knew neither man would appreciate a mother hen routine and Buck would never let him hear the end of it if Chris over reacted, leading the peacekeepers to rescue those who didn't need rescuing. He'd give them till lunch tomorrow to appear.

The comment drew a deep rumble of laughter from the preacher. Very little went unobserved by the shootist.

Carrying a bucket of tar, Josiah had climbed to the roof that morning with every intention of sealing the shingles he had yet to replace hoping the patch job would hold until he could afford another stack of roof tiles. Instead, he found himself constantly watching the horizon for the first sign of their returning members.

The previous day, curiosity had run rampant when the stage driver had recruited the depot worker to help deliver Ezra's trunk to the church, the two men wrestling the heavy piece of luggage between them.

Buck's desire to search the contents was thwarted by the padlock holding the lid shut and Nathan couldn't help commenting that JD needn't worry about loaning Ezra any clothing since the con man had evidently purchased a whole new wardrobe.

Josiah hadn't failed to notice Larabee's sigh of relief. The heavy trunk appeared to be proof the wily cardsharp wasn't planning to move on any time soon.

"Come on Brother Chris, let's collect Nathan and have a drink before Buck and JD get back from patrol. Between those two and our wayward gambler it may be the last chance we have for a while to enjoy the peace and quiet." Clapping a hand on the lean man's shoulder Josiah steered the Hoosier in the direction of the saloon, each of them tossing another glance down the road.

*******

"Ya reckon Nathan's right Buck?" The young sheriff questioned as the two men stopped, resting their horses on the crest of the hill over looking the road that led into Four Corners. "Ya think the only reason Ezra is comin' back is cause he's broke?"

"Hell no!" Buck chuckled, his expression sobering at the worry on his young friend's serious face. "Nathan's just talkin' out his ass...Ya know him and Chris was more worried than any of us ol' Ez might be reminded a how much profit he could make stayin' in a big city."

"You and Vin sure didn't seem too worried about it." JD pointed out.

"As Ez is so fond a sayin'...Appearances can be deceivin'..." The womanizer grinned. "Couldn't see no cause for addin' ta the misery...Reckon Vin figured it wouldn't take much for Ezra ta get homesick...Them two's like two peas in a pod 'bout some things."

Wilmington uncorked his canteen taking a large swallow before offering it to Dunne. The womanizer understood his young friend's trepidation. JD had left Boston after the death of his mother seeking adventure in the western territories he had loved to read about. Along with that adventure, he'd also found a family. Six unique older brothers from different backgrounds who fought with each other and beside each other. The thought of losing any of the six frightened the sheriff more than he cared to admit to Buck...or himself.

What Dunne wasn't aware of was that very same thought frightened the funloving womanizer just as much. They all understood death. It was a fact of life and in this part of the still growing country where lawless men sought to take what they wanted from honest people intent on settling the untamed land, there were many ways for a man to meet his maker. They had steeled themselves to deal with death but to lose one of their group by choice, because of words spoken in anger or fear was unthinkable.

"Buck!...Hey Buck!"

Wilmington was pulled from his reverie by JD's anxious tone.

"Ain't that Vin?" The sheriff was pointing to where Peso raced past the bend in the road below them, his rider bent low in the saddle.

"What the hell?...He tryin ta kill Peso?" Without thinking Buck put spurs to his own mount, urging the animal down the hill at an unsafe speed, praying the horse didn't lose his footing.

JD followed suit as the same questioned burned in both their minds. 'What the hell was going on and where was Ezra?'

*******

His body moving in perfect synchronization with the animal, Ezra cursed himself for his weakness as Peso's long legs opened up the distance between them and their pursuers.

Weary beyond measure the cardsharp had been unable to prevent himself from nodding off, rousing only when the wanted man's faithful horse, almost as tired as its rider, had become increasingly skittish. The gelding had danced sideways, tossing his head and whickering a warning as their followers closed in.

"Just a little further fella." Ezra encouraged the tired animal as the stark buildings comprising Four Corners became visable.

Home. They had made it home. Vin was safe and soon they would be too.

*******

"I'm surprised JD and Buck didn't decorate the entire town with banners." Josiah chuckled, his eyes on the butcher paper sign which was hanging above the mirror behind the bar. 'Wellcum Home Ez.' He could fault their spelling but not the sentiment.

"Those two are so excited you'd think it was Christmas and Ezra was Santa Claus hisself." Nathan mumbled, his dark gaze constantly straying to the swinging doors. "Wouldn't a been surprised if the first words outta Vin's mouth after hello was askin' if Ezra brought presents..." he grumbled, not knowing how right his words were.

"And the two of you ain't the least bit anxious ta have him home?" The ex-priest questioned, arching an eyebrow, daring them to deny the accusation.

Chris lit a cheroot trying desperately not to grin as Nathan fidgeted. Just as he'd seen Josiah staring at the horizon and Josiah had caught him watching the road, they'd both seen the healer seated on his balcony supposedly engrossed in reading a book, Ezra had loaned him. Neither man failed to notice how long it took for the ex-slave to turn a page. The shootist would bet his gun Nathan couldn't repeat a single word he'd read that afternoon.

Conversation at the bar drew the lawmen's attention to the figure standing there.

"I can't believe anyone is actually glad to have that lying cheat come back." McMurtry didn't care what Inez thought of him and evidently didn't notice the peacekeepers seated at Ezra's normal gaming table rather than their usual seats. Vin had been the first but in the past few weeks the other men had often gravitated to this particular table filling a need to be closer to the missing gambler.

"I vill be most happy to see him." Johann commented. The old Swedish gunsmith had been one of the first settlers in Four Corners and unlike most of the citizens wasn't afraid to stand up to the snobbish banker. "Mr. Standish is a nice man yes and I am glad he vill be back vhere he belongs."

McMurtry exploded. "That's just it! He doesn't belong here! How can we hope to ever have a decent town if we allow his kind...and yes worse...to live here? Not only that we hire them to keep the law." The portly banker was livid as he argued his point. "As intelligent men you would think Larabee and the others would have realized by now they don't need him. They've done just fine in his absence."

Sensing movement beside him, Josiah reached out a large hand to grasp Larabee's arm. "Consider the source Chris...Let it go." Sanchez warned, seeing the anger flash in the hazel eyes which flicked his way.

Shaking off the big man's hand, Larabee shoved away from the table and pushed through the doors leaving before he did something McMurtry would regret.

"One of these days you'll all realize I'm right." The banker continued his tirade for anyone who would listen. "If we want this town to be someplace we can be proud to call home we just have to get rid of the undesirables, starting with him. I'm sure none of the town's proper ladies would be too sorry to see that Glenda woman and those whores of hers move on."

"Then vhat vould you do on Saturday night?" McMurtry's face reddened as laughter spread through the room at the gunsmith's question. The Swede motioned Inez for a refill as he added loudly, "And I am already proud to call this town home."

Hearing the scraping of a chair next to him, Nathan looked up to see Josiah had gained his feet. "Where you going?"

Sanchez gave him a wink, "Brother, I think I'll practice Sunday's sermon..."

"What's it about?"

A wide smile crossed the older man's face. "Acceptance, tolerance and casting the first stone." His blue eyes twinkled with anticipated enjoyment. "Wanna help?"

"Oh I wouldn't miss it." The healer laughed seeing McMurtry's pasty complexion pale as they approached. "Not for all the fancy clothes in Ezra's trunk."

*******

Outside, Chris took several deep breaths fighting the anger brought about by the banker's vicious words. Tearing the banker in two wouldn't solve anything, except to make him feel better. He did know that having left under the dark cloud of Larabee's rage, the last thing either of them needed was for the gambler to return only to find that same scowl on the gunslinger's face.

The gunman raked a hand through his hair, adjusting his hat. How the hell was Larabee supposed to set things right with Ezra if...The black clad gunslinger straightened, surprised to see a figure in a very familiar buckskin coat and slouch hat hurry from the livery practically running in the direction of Vin's covered wagon.

Crushing the remainder of the thin cigar beneath his heal, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end, Chris stepped from the boardwalk, his worried gaze searching the street as he moved toward the battered old wagon Tanner called home.

*******

Leaping from Peso, Ezra tossed Tommy the reins. The livery boy hadn't questioned the gambler's strange instructions or doubted his promise of payment when the boy had finished. He waved a hand in thanks to the boy's call of welcome home as Standish hurried out the other end of the large stable.

Shedding the buckskin jacket, Ezra folded the garment with care knowing how the tracker valued it and carefully placed it inside the wagon. He hurriedly removed the holster and gun, wondering again how the Texan managed to move so quickly with the heavy weapon strapped to his thigh.

"Vin what the hell's goin on?" Larabee called rounding the back of the Conestoga.

Jerking off the old hat, Ezra pitched it on top of the coat and mares leg.

"Ezra?"

In that moment, Standish stumbled, his emerald eyes widening in confusion as Chris drew his Colt. Certain he heard the echo of a gun shot reverberate through the air, the con man clumsily groped for the weapon he no longer wore as Larabee pushed the startled southerner against the tailgate using his own body to protect the unarmed man.

Ezra's breath caught in his throat, as a white hot pain surged through him. He watched Chris reholster his gun and turn to face the cardsharp. The southerner blinked rapidly trying to clear his vision as the world wavered and shades of gray crept at him from all directions. Larabee seemed to be moving in slow motion as he reached for the gambler. He could see Chris reaching for him and could see the man's lips moving but the words didn't register as they were drowned out by the roaring in his ears.

He struggled to speak. He had to tell Chris about Vin. Had to reassure the gunslinger the tracker was safe but his vocal chords refused to obey the signals from his brain and muscles turned to water as another wave of pain washed over him.

He felt himself falling and was surprised to find himself gently lowered to the hard ground.

Ezra weakly gripped the shootist's arm, struggling to speak, trying desperately to form the words but his wounded body refused follow his commands.

He had to tell Larabee! Tanner needed him. Certain he'd failed, a single tear escaped as the overwhelming agony pushed him over the abyss into blackness.

*******

Seeing Josiah and Nathan running from the saloon and satisfied there would be no further gunplay, Chris holstered his weapon and turned to question the gambler hoping Standish could furnish some answers.

"Ezra?" He saw the confusion on the con man's handsome face turn to pain as the smaller man's body folded in on itself. "Ezra!"

His own heart pounding frantically, Larabee pulled the southerner to him, gently lowering the smaller man to the road. From the corner of his eye he noticed a bright smear of blood on the tailgate and his brain belatedly registered the stain was fresh.

"Ezra! Stay with me Ezra!" Feeling the grip on his wrist, Chris kept his gaze locked on the gambler's emerald eyes, his own hold tightening about the man.

He didn't hear the pounding of horses hooves or the murmuring of the gathering crowd. He didn't see Buck and JD staring in shock at the scene before them, each holding onto the arm of the strangers they'd apprehended on the road. He didn't notice Jackson and Sanchez kneeling in the dirt beside him. All he saw was the wounded man in front of him.

"Come on Ez...Don't do this!" He pleaded.

Ezra's breathing became more ragged and labored as he struggled to speak, the words inaudible. Chris felt the hold on his wrist loosen, the slender hand falling away as the gambler's eyelids fluttered and closed. "Nathan!!!!"

"That's my bounty!" A strange voice called out.

Holding the unconscious gambler against his chest to allow Nathan access to the man's back wound, realizing he couldn't tell if his friend was breathing, Chris barely glanced up at the unfamiliar voice as a man pushed citizens aside moving to the front of the rapidly growing crowd.

A skinny man in dirty ill fitting clothes, the barrel of his rifle resting on his shoulder, he spit a stream of tobacco juice into the dust nearly spattering the gambler's boots. "I said that's my bounty."

"What the hell are you talkin' about? There ain't no bounty on him!" JD demanded.

The man raked a derisive gaze over the young sheriff before returning his attention to the men kneeling beside the unconscious gambler. "Got the paper on him right here. Thought we had 'im out on the trail but..."

"Clive." The man beside Buck interrupted, looking as if he were going to be sick.

The man ignored him. "My supposed marksman missed and the little bastard slipped away somehow." Shooting a look of disgust at the men apprehended by Buck and JD, the man shook open and held out the tattered sheet of beige paper he had pulled from his pocket. "I sure got 'im this time though so don't even think about cheating me outta my bounty money. That five hunnerd dollars is ourn. Law says so!"

"Clive." The other man repeated as Wilmington snatched the dodger from the loud mouth bounty hunter, ripping it into tiny shreds before everyone saw the likeness of Vin Tanner or the words proclaiming he was worth five hundred dollars, dead or alive. Enough damn people already knew without it being shouted in the street.

Chris ignored the stranger, his whole attention focused on the healer kneeling in the dirt beside him. "Nathan?"

"I don't know Chris." The healer didn't look up, the despair obvious in his voice.

The loud mouth man spoke up again, shaking his head in disgust. "Don't know why yer wastin' yer time on the likes a him. Law don't care iffen he's dead or not."

With a bellow of rage and more speed and agility than anyone would have guessed for a man his size, Josiah lunged up off his knees, covering the distance to the stranger and before Buck or JD could react, his large hands were encircling the stranger's throat.

"Josiah!" Buck grabbed for the ex-priest, trying desperately to pull the big man away from the struggling sputtering stranger.

Lost in a blind rage, Josiah squeezed his hands tighter, watching the man's face turn red as he continued choking the life from him.

"Josiah no! Damnit let him go!..." Buck threw himself against the preacher, thinking he was going to have to cold cock Sanchez with his pistol to break the hold.

"Josiah, I need your help!" Placing Larabee's hand over the cloth covering the still bleeding bullet hole in Ezra's back, Nathan moved to Sanchez's other side. He could see the words begin to penetrate the ex-priest's enraged fog. "Ezra needs you Josiah...He needs your help..." He reached up taking hold of the preacher's large wrist. "Ezra needs you..."

With an almost animalistic roar the enormous man shoved the stranger away, sending him reeling into several bystanders, one which Buck absently noted with a small amount of glee was banker McMurtry. The man fell to his knees clawing at his throat as he gasped for air.

Seeing Josiah shake his head as if to clear it, afraid the man would go after the bounty hunter again, Buck spoke softly in his ear. "Take Ez to the clinic. Go on...Help Nathan with Ez..." Wilmington pat the big man's shoulder. "We'll take care of this scum."

"Let go of him Chris." Nathan urged gently forcing Larabee to release his hold on Standish as Josiah lifted the gambler's limp body from his arms carrying the young southerner as if he were as fragile as a piece of bone china.

The bounty hunter resisted, throwing off the helping hand as Buck jerked him to his feet.

"Don't matter what ya think or s-say" Clive rasped staggering towards Larabee. "That no good bastard's our bounty. Just give us our money and we'll be on our way. Ya can do whatever the hell ya want with him."

"You ain't goin' nowhere but ta jail for attempted murder of a law officer." JD sneered, training his weapon on Clive as the bounty hunter bent to retrieve his rifle.

"Been tryin' ta tell ya Clive...That ain't 'im" The man who'd been Wilmington's prisoner grabbed Clive's arm finally getting his attention. "Ya hear me? That ain't him! That's the fancy fella that got off the stage in Chesterville."

"He's also one of this town's peacekeepers and was hired by Judge Travis himself." Chris slowly rose to his feet, glancing one last time to the clinic as Josiah disappeared through the doorway with his burden. Quick as lightening streaking across a clear sky, Larabee whirled and viciously slammed his fist into Clive's jaw sending the man sprawling back into the dirt. "If he dies..." he hissed, his eyes flashing green fire, "I'm gonna hang ya myself and let the buzzards pick your bones clean."

*******

Chris sat at the head of the bed, his worried gaze on the con man's pale face, illuminated by the flickering of the kerosene lamp's small flame. To their dismay, Ezra hadn't moved or made a sound since Josiah had placed him on the bed as tenderly as if the gambler were truly his child.

Deciding for the moment it would be in their best interests to keep their mouth shut, none of the three bounty hunters spoke up when asked about Vin Tanner's location or what had happened before their arrival in Four Corners.

Depositing Clive and his friends in the jail, Chris, JD and Buck had hurried back to the clinic, each man drawing his courage around him like a thick blanket against a cold wind before stepping through the door, ready to face whatever news the healer would give them.

"Nathan?" Trepidation filled the preacher's hushed voice, tears running down his cheeks as the healer finished his examination.

"He needs a doctor."

"You're a damn good doctor Nathan." Dunne stated firmly

"A real doctor JD." The ex-slave shook his head. "The bullet's lodged awful damn close to his spine."

To the young sheriff, there was only one solution. "So take it out."

"Damnit JD, it ain't that simple. He needs a surgeon...I go diggin' around for it and I could paralyze him...or even kill him." He saw their hope, their faith in his skills reflected in each of their faces. "Did any of ya hear me? Don't ya understand? One wrong move and I could kill him!"

"And if you leave the bullet in?" Everyone held their breath waiting for Nathan's answer to the gunslinger's soft inquiry. "Nathan?" Larabee pressed when the healer didn't respond. "What happens if you leave the bullet in him?"

"If there's no nerve damage and it don't get infected he might be okay..." Nathan scrubbed a hand over his scalp in frustration. "He'd more than likely have to spend most of his time bedridden to keep it from movin'."

"But?" Larabee pressed.

"He'll probably die." The healer admitted lowly. Having forced him to state the facts, no one said anything letting the healer analyze the situation in much the same way Standish would have if he were able. Nathan crossed back to the bed staring down at his patient.

Being crippled was one thing. Standish would hate it. He would fight it with every fiber of his being but would eventually accept his fate and learn to deal with the paralysis, hiding his pain and hatred behind a smile and a poker face but as much as the lively gambler loved his feather bed he would never acquiesce to spending the rest of his life confined if his limbs were in working order.

Nathan knew beyond a doubt what Ezra would say. A wisp of a smile touched the healer's lips as he mentally ran that conversation through his mind.

'Do what you must Nathan.'

'You need a surgeon Ezra.'

'I have the utmost faith in your medical skills Mr. Jackson.'

'If I make a mistake I could kill you.'

'It is most likely I will surely die unless you make the attempt. The miscreant who fired the bullet will be responsible for my death Nathan, not you. Please promise you will feel no guilt if I don't survive.'

Nathan crossed to the shelf and lifted a bottle sighing in disgust at the small amount of liquid it contained. With little money for medical supplies the healer used the small hoard of chloroform sparingly but he didn't want to take a chance on the con man being awakened by the pain. Placing the little brown bottle on a clean tray, he quickly set about gathering the other items he would need.

"Josiah you know how to use this." He passed the preacher the precious bottle and a clean cloth. Turning to the other men, knowing they would only be in the way, he motioned towards the door. "Why don't ya all wander over to the jail and see if ya can find out anything about Vin from them yahoos."

Although the three men wanted to stay, they understood the pressure the ex-slave was feeling and didn't want to add to it. Hoping to erase the self doubt they saw in the healer's dark eyes, each of them offered a word of encouragement before slipping out the door.

Now, with Johann and several other men who had volunteered to watch the prisoners allowing the peacekeepers to remain with their friend, the lawmen waited. Waited not only to see if the gambler would survive but if he would have the use of his legs. Waited for news of their missing member. News only Ezra could supply. They waited, watching the minutes and hours tick by.

*******

"Chris why don't you go get somethin' ta eat?" Nathan suggested. The others had begrudgingly left to fulfill their duties to the town but there was no doubt they would be back as quickly as possible. "I'll holler for ya if there's any change."

"Ain't hungry. You go ahead." The quiet words were the first he'd spoken in hours. The man hadn't moved from the bedside chair and Nathan was fairly certain his eyes hadn't left the figure in the bed. Well aware arguing with the gunslinger was useless Nathan crossed to the door promising to return shortly and announcing he would bring the shootist breakfast that he expected to be eaten.

Chris sighed as the door closed behind the healer. The shootist knew he would never forget the men's expressions as Josiah had lay the southerner's few personal items on the nightstand. His silver flask, his favorite deck of cards, his gold pocketwatch and seven dollars pulled from the secret pocket sewn inside the gambler's boot. Dunne had stared at the small amount of money in dismay, Nathan's words about Ezra only coming home because he was broke ringing in his ears. There was no satisfaction in the healer's own expression...only unbearable sadness that his predication seemed to be true.

Despite the evidence laying on the nightstand, somehow Chris knew the real reason Ezra had returned had nothing to do with finances. The gambler had been broke before and definitely had a better chance of recouping his losses in places other than this dusty town. He couldn't help but believe Ezra had returned because Four Corners was his home. Pure and simple.

The previous evening, the conversation as the five men watched over their resident gambler had centered around Tanner's whereabouts and Larabee had passed the long night after the others had finally fallen asleep trying to piece together what might have happened between Chesterville and Four Corners.

Wilmington and Dunne had both sworn Ezra had been riding Peso, stating it was the combination of clothes and animal that led them to believe it was Vin being chased by the men they had stopped. Chris himself had seen who he thought to be Tanner leaving the stables, yet the tracker's horse wasn't in the livery and Yosmite hadn't seen Standish or Tanner return.

Clive had said they thought they had Vin before...on the road...He said they had missed but if that was true where was Vin. Chris kept telling himself Tanner was alive. It was obvious to a blind man Ezra had wanted the men to believe he was the ex-bounty hunter they sought. Unfortunately he had played the part too well but Larabee had to believe there wouldn't be a need for that deception if the Texan were dead.

In desperation and frustration, he leaned closer to the man in the bed, pleading, "Where is he Ezra? What happened out there?"

"He awake?"

Startled Chris jumped, his hand automatically dropping to the gun on his hip. He shook his head embarrassed that he'd been so engrossed in his thoughts he hadn't heard the two men enter until Buck spoke. Accepting the coffee, Larabee ignored the plate of food, Nathan had sent. "Find out anything?" He asked, taking several swallows of the hot strong brew.

"Seems two a them fools wised up a tad sittin' there. Reckon they figure since they didn't actually pull the trigger they ain't responsible if Ezra-" Wilmington trailed off, uable to complete the thought, unwilling to face the very real possibility the southerner might die. He and Chris both glanced at Josiah who muttered several curses, swiping irritably at the coffee he'd spilled, with a trembling hand. Larabee felt a twinge of guilt at the ugly bruise gracing the preacher's cheek. Leaving the cup and the mess, Sanchez crossed to the window leaning on the sill, his head bowed, his broad shoulders slumped.

"Said they spotted Vin in Chesterville. Heard him talkin' ta Ez about goin' home. The stage driver told 'em Ezra had been headed for here. Ol' big mouth Clive thought Vin looked familiar so they hunted through the sheriff's dodgers till they found his but by that time Vin'd already headed out of town. They said that suited Clive fine cause he didn't wanna try takin' 'im in town anyways case he had friends." Buck stopped, staring at the floor. Vin had friends alright. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "Says they spotted Vin two days later. They took a shot at him but by the time they got where he'd been he was gone. Says they searched all over hell and gone but couldn't find a sign a him." A weak smile tugged at his lips under the moustache. "Ya shoulda seen their faces when JD told 'em he didn't know who they thought they was chasin' but the man that met Ez's stage was one a the lawmen here."

Fearing the young sheriff was telling the truth and they too may be guilty of killing an innocent men, and a lawman at that the bounty hunters had clammed up.

Buck stated that short of setting Josiah loose on them, he didn't think they would be getting any more information from the three. His words faded as he realized Larabee's concentration was centered solely on Ezra when the gambler grimaced, releasing an almost imperceptible moan.

"Ezra?" Chris stooped down beside the bed so he'd be in the gambler's line of sight. "Ezra can ya hear me?"

"I'll get Nathan." Wilmington rushed from the clinic nearly knocking the arriving healer and sheriff down the stairs in his haste.

"Come on Ezra you can do it." Larabee encouraged laying a gentle hand on the gambler's shoulder as Standish struggled to open his eyes. Josiah quickly moved to pour the medicinal tea Nathan had prepared, hoping the gambler would stay conscious long enough to swallow a sip or two.

Eyelids twitched and fluttered finally lifting slightly to reveal pain glazed emerald eyes.

"Couldn't let us be bored for just five more minutes could ya?" Chris quipped.

Standish stared at Larabee in puzzled bemusement before a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth in response to Chris' own hesitant smile.

An anguished outcry escaped the gambler as unused to laying on his stomach, Ezra attempted to ease his cramped muscles by rolling over before anyone could stop the action.

"Easy Ezra, c'mon now ride it out." The gunslinger coaxed, rubbing the con man's shoulders as Standish buried his face in the pillow, tears of pain escaping eyes squeezed tightly closed.

"Ezra? Can ya hear me?" The healer questioned when the southerner's breathing began to even out and the hand clenched near the pillow started to relax, receiving a barely noticable nod in answer. "We need to sit you up for a minute. It's gonna hurt but ya need water and I have some tea for the pain...And ya don't need ta be tellin' me how ya'd rather do without the godawful concoctions I'm always forcing down your throat in the name of health, I know that speech a yours by heart." Nathan's teasing tone belied the worry in his expression.

Josiah handed the cup to JD moving to the side of the bed.

"Don't try to help Ezra. Ya just lay still and let us do all the work." The healer ordered softly.

Slipping behind Standish to support him, Chris looked to Nathan, alarmed by the deathly gray pallor of Ezra's complexion. Against his will, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, fighting the nausea brought on by the waves of agony rolling over him, the gambler hadn't been able to prevent the small whimpers of pain as working together the four men gently repositioned him.

Ignoring Larabee's glare, Nathan took the cup of tea from JD and holding it to the southerner's lips, urged him to sip. He was pleased and relieved when the gambler managed to down a quarter of the cup.

Each of the men offered Ezra encouragment, sympathy and contrition for causing him further pain.

As they laid him back in his original position, Ezra, through tear blinded eyes, stared at Larabee, who was once more hunkered beside the bed soothingly stroking the gambler's hair and whispering comfortingly. There was something he needed to tell the gunslinger. Something important. Something the black clad man should know. Something he couldn't quite bring to the forefront of his befuddled mind.

"Stop fighting the medicine Ezra. Ya need to rest." There was a weariness to the gunslinger's smile. "Let go...We'll all be here when ya wake up...Promise."

Ezra's eyes slid closed as he let the healing herbs release him from the overwhelming pain.

*******

Dozing in the hard bedside chair, Larabee jerked awake at the small moan. Giving Wilmington, who also came instantly awake, a nudge with his booted foot, Chris leaned forward gently placing a calloused hand on the injured gambler's shoulder.

Not wanting a repeat of the con man attempting to roll over, Nathan had used the medicinal tea, laudanum and the last of his chloroform to keep the gambler drugged for the past three days wanting to give the man's back a chance to begin healing without Ezra moving around.

After Nathan checked the wound and changed the bandage that morning pronouncing the injury healing nicely and it was time to let Ezra awaken, they had taken advantage of Standish's drugged sleep to turn the man onto his back. The healer had taken his time, checking the con man's reflexes and the nerves in his lower legs and feet, happy to report there didn't seem to be any permanent damage.

With a relieved grin, Buck hurried onto the balcony signalling the others, his own relief reflected in their whoops of joy as Josiah and Nathan tossed aside their hammers scrambling for the ladder and JD practically danced down the boardwalk, stopping to yell over the batwing doors of the saloon.

With the healer's guarantee the gambler would not only live but walk again, the men had taken shifts staying with Ezra, spending the night in bedrolls on the floor riding patrol in rotation and fulfilling their duties to the town...except Larabee. The gunslinger hadn't left the clinic.

Clapping the healer and preacher on the back as they rushed into the small room, Buck threw an arm around the young sheriff's shoulder, his grin widening at the smaller man's expression of genuine joy. "You'll learn not to doubt ol' Buck, kid. Told ya Ol' Ez was gonna be just fine."

JD didn't ruin the moment by pointing out that Wilmington had been just as worried as the rest of them.

Everyone fell silent as Ezra blinked several times, staring at the men gathered about the bed, his emerald eyes full of confusion.

Larabee supported the southerner's head letting the gambler drink his fill of water before setting the glass on the bedside table and helping Nathan prop a couple of pillows under the con man's shoulders.

"Welcome home Ezra!" Dunne exclaimed happily, his dark eyes dancing. "Sure did miss ya!"

"Man sure knows how ta make an entrance don't he?" Buck winked. "I mean who else would come barrelling into town on a stolen horse with bounty hunters after his ass?"

'Bounty hunters!' Gripping the gunslinger's wrist, Ezra frantically looked at Larabee in alarm. "Vin!...Have ta-ta...tell ya...."

"It's alright Ezra-"

"N-no...ya have ta..."

"Everything's fine...Look." Gripping the frantic con man's chin, Chris gently turned Ezra's head stepping aside so the southerner could see the lean Texan grinning at him from the nearby cot.

"Hey Pard." Despite his tan complexion the tracker still appeared pale and the dark circles under his eyes were evidence of his weariness.

"How?..." The southerner relaxed back against the pillows at discovering the sharpshooter safely at home with his makeshift family.

"You told us." Chris couldn't help chuckling. He pulled the telegraph flimsy from his pocket. "Mr. Larabee. Sharpshooter located doctor's office Silver City. Stop. Needs escort home. Stop. E.S. It came yesterday morning." Thanks to Standish himself, the gunslinger had been able to keep his promise they'd all be there when the gambler awoke.

"Me and the kid here went and fetched him home." Buck stated happily. "Got back a few hours ago." Wilmington didn't bother admitting he had added the extra money Mrs. Riley had returned to the paltry seven dollars on the nightstand. The woman had been flustered by the large amount he had given her and saying it was far to much, she had turned it over to Buck, asking that he give it back to that nice young man's brother. Wilmington couldn't prevent a smile each time he thought of the statement. Brother indeed...

"That was a real stupid thing ya did Ez." Vin admonished. "Thanks."

"No thanks are necessary Mr. Tanner. It's enough to see you are feelin' bettah than the last time I saw you. Besides," Ezra added with a tired grin, "depending on the intelligence of your adversary sometimes stupid works best."

"We'll discuss the wisdom of your plan at length when you're feelin' better."

The gambler's grin faded at Chris' stern tone.

Larabee sank back into the chair giving the tracker a small smile as the others all began talking at once filling Ezra in on what he'd missed while he was gone, what had happened upon his return and what they'd discovered from Blake and the others. Evidently, Clive had ordered the other two to keep searching for the wanted man and headed to Four Corners to wait in ambush. He had inadvertantly overheard someone remark about Tanner's wagon and seeing it as a golden opportunity knowing the man would eventually return there, he had simply laid in waiting.

"Release them Mr. Dunne."

"What!" Stunned, JD clenched his fists to keep himself from feeling the older man's forehead certain Ezra must still be running a raging fever.

"Unless Mr. Tanner wishes to press charges I would request you release the miscreants." Ezra lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes.

"But-"

"Let 'em go JD." Chris stated firmly understanding the gambler's unspoken motives. Charging the three and bringing them to trial would make public knowledge the bounty on Vin's head. It was the last thing the tracker needed.

A grateful smile flickered across Tanner's scruffy face as he too realized Ezra's reason. "Do it JD."

"Fine." The young sheriff angrily shoved his hands into his pockets dropping his gaze to his boots. A minute smile touched his lips. No one had said he had to release them immediately. He figured it wouldn't hurt the back shooting bastards to sit there a while longer.

"How ya feelin' son?" Seated on the edge of the bed, one hand absently rubbing the gambler's leg, Josiah questioned as Nathan answered the soft knock on the door.

Taking the bowl of broth and biscuit, from Molly, who gave Buck a smile before she left, the healer made a mental note to thank Inez for all the meals she'd provided the past few days .

"Don't go back ta sleep yet Ezra. Ya need to eat a little bit and start buildin' your strength back up." Nathan set the tray across the con man's lap.

Josiah reached for the spoon and started to tuck the napkin under the gambler's chin.

"Mr. Sanchez must I remind you I'm not..." The gambler hesitated, grimacing both in pain and sympathy as he stared at the preacher. "Might I ask how you acquired that rather spectacular shiner you're sporting?"

"I found out there really is such a thing as a stupid question." The big man took the spoon from the southerner's trembling hand, dipping it into the broth and bringing it to his surrogate son's lips.

"Tell him what the stupid question was." Tanner chuckled. Buck and JD had told him the story on the way home and Vin felt it was exactly what the gambler needed to hear.

Ezra's emerald gaze traveled over each man as the preacher fed him, noticing that while both Josiah and Larabee appeared embarrassed, the others were failing miserably at their attempts to hide their amusement. Weariness finally won out over both his curiosity and his hunger and the heavy lids slid closed as Josiah removed the tray and Larabee pulled the covers up around his shoulders.

*******

Ezra sat on the side of his feather bed, thanking the healer as Nathan helped him remove his boots. Standish had been on his best behavior the last three days and Nathan had let the gambler return to his own room in exchange for his promise the wily cardsharp would strictly adhere to the healer's orders.

Still weak he'd allowed the others to assist him in dressing and leaned heavily on Chris and Nathan without protest as they had accompanied him to his room.

Wanting to be near the gambler, Tanner had remained in the clinic doing his best not to fidget, complain or let the con man catch him gazing longingly out the window. Keeping Vin occupied with reading lessons had helped Ezra pass the time.

"Get some rest Ezra." Nathan ordered. "I'll be by later with lunch."

The gambler nodded, surprised the normally short walk from the clinic to the room above the saloon had taken such a toll on his strength.

"Ya need anything?" Larabee asked as the healer slipped from the room. Finding himself alone with the con man, the blond decided to take advantage of the time. "Wanted ta talk to ya Ezra 'bout the way I was actin' before ya went ta Denver."

"It's not necessary Mr. Larabee. You were understandably upset-"

"It is necessary so shut up and let me explain." Larabee growled. He sank into the rocker by the window watching as the younger man concentrated on adjusting the pillows.

"That letter ya brought me...It was from a distant cousin a Sarah's who lives in England....Reckon he hadn't heard about..." The words faded and the gunslinger swallowed hard pushing back the horrid memories of the tragic events surrounding his wife and son's death. "He was one a her favorite relatives but they had a fallin' out years ago...He was always tryin' ta talk her into movin' ta England....tellin' her I wasn't good enough for her...He was damn right about that..." A self deprecating smirk crossed the gunslinger's face. "Said my way a life would be the death a her...He was right about that too...Anyway, gettin' that letter...I was angry but I shouldn't have taken it out on you and you damn sure shouldn't a let me..." Chris scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Guess you'll think twice before deliverin' any more mail...Ya know what they say about shooting the messenger."

"You didn't shoot me." Ezra grinned. "That deed was perpetrated by-"

"Ya always make it this hard for someone ta apologize?" Chris interrupted.

"As I stated there is no need for an apology." The gambler shrugged, gritting his teeth against the twinge of pain the movement caused. Ezra attempted to change the subject. "Is that hammering I've heard the last couple of days?"

"Yep, Freight wagon delivered a crate a shingles to the church from some anonymous benefactor." Chris searched for any sign of acknowledgment but the con man had his poker face firmly in place. Not wanting to embarrass the man the others had all agreed to say nothing of the letter Josiah had found tucked in the crate addressed to him.

'Mr. Standish.

Per our agreement, I am providing this crate of roofing shingles in lieu of payment. Consider my debt paid in full. I look forward to another spirited game on your next visit.

Sincerely, Michael Tolbert.'

Chris wasn't falling for the gambler's favorite tactic. "I ain't much for words Ezra but I want ya ta know how much I appreciate-"

"Understood." Taking pity on the gunslinger, afraid he couldn't control his own emotions in his weakened state, Ezra stretched out on the bed, turning on his side to take the weight off the wound.

"Ya know, Vin was right." The black clad man sighed. "That was a stupid plan that damn near got ya killed."

"I did what was most prudent at the time."

"Ya could a wired us for help." Chris pointed out quietly

"Unfortunately, the telegraph was rendered inoperable by the storm." Ezra argued.

"Ya didn't know that though," Chris arched an eyebrow pleased to see the slight flush in the cardsharp's cheeks. "Otherwise, ya wouldn't have bothered to send us the one ya did. Anytime ya need help Ezra, no matter what it is, all ya hafta do is ask." Knowing if he ended the argument now he'd won, Larabee rose and unfolded the light blanket at the end of the bed, placing it over the smaller man.

"He was wrong on both counts Mr. Larabee." The soft words froze the gunslinger in the doorway. "From what I've heard of your beloved Sarah she was not only beautiful but highly intelligent...Her life with you was happy or she wouldn't have remained. That most assuredly made you good enough in her eyes if not your own...Her death was at the hands of an vile and evil human being...A description that in no way, sir, fits you. I know you hold yourself responsible but only a coward uses a woman and child for vengeance." The southerner closed his eyes, his breathing evening out effectively putting an end to the conversation.

Hearing the door close, Ezra opened his eyes. Larabee was an honorable man and the cardsharp was certain the apology had been sincere but was just as certain the speech was prompted by the gunslinger's gratitude for Standish's part in the safe return of Chris' best friend. He hadn't failed to notice the Hoosier had said nothing about being happy the gambler had returned to their small part of the world.

*******

"Ya know Ez, if JD was doin' his law abidin' duty, ya'd be sittin' in jail for stealin' Peso." Buck chuckled setting his empty lunch plate aside. Inez had arranged for their meals to be delivered and instructed a couple of cowhands to carry extra chairs to the gambler's room so the men could have lunch with their recovering friend. "Ya know they hang horse thieves out here and rightly so."

"I don't steal Mr. Wilmington." Pushing the food around on his plate, Ezra flashed a dimpled grin. "I merely borrowed Mr. Tanner's faithful steed in order to complete the required illusion and confuse his pursuers."

"Still took nerve. That horse is damn near as ornery as yours."

"Chaucer!" The gambler nearly threw the dish on the nightstand and swung his feet to the floor, catching his breath as pain flared up his back.

"Take it easy son." The gambler resisted as Josiah eased him back against the pillows. "Buck and JD brought Chaucer home when they went for Vin."

"Uh Ez..." Tanner shifted uneasily, "can I ask ya somethin' portant?"

"Of course Mr. Tanner. Ask away and I guarantee an answer if I'm able."

"Where is Peso?"

"Tucked away safe and sound and being pampered at Miss Nettie's." The gambler smiled at the sharpshooter's sigh of relief, understanding exactly how the Texan felt. "My apologies Mr. Tanner. I should have informed you as such earlier."

Ezra had instructed Tommy to secretly take Peso to the creek, rest him, brush him down and then take the animal to Miss Nettie's for safekeeping, telling the woman someone would explain when they came for the horse. It simply wouldn't do to have the horse discovered since he had planned on Vin Tanner disappearing into thin air once inside the boundaries of Four Corners. The livery boy was also instructed to have Mrs. Potter put carrots and apples for the animal on the gambler's tab.

"Kinda had other things on your mind." The tracker offered him a lopsided smile.

"Hey Ez, did ya buy clothes made outta iron in Denver? This thing was heavy enough to be full a bricks."Wilmington lightly kicked the trunk he and Josiah had delivered to the room.

"I see no plausible reason for hauling bricks in my luggage." Ezra retorted, knowing for appearances sake, Maude would disagree. With a sigh and slight shake of his head, Ezra pulled a key from the nightstand drawer. "Mr. Dunne would you please open said trunk and appease everyone's curiosity."

Five men leaned forward as the young sheriff removed the lock and lifted the lid, revealing an emerald green jacket that matched the con man's eyes.

"Nice jacket Ez." Dunne commented.

"I'm pleased to see you're taste is improving Mr. Dunne. Perhaps it is the company you've been keeping of late."

"Don't look like it's made a iron though." JD grabbed for his hat before Buck could slap it from his head. He removed the jacket and other items of clothing, revealing several packages wrapped in brown paper each marked with a name nestled on top of the remaining clothes.

There were puzzled looks exchanged as the gambler nodded to the young sheriff. "Feel free to pass them out Mr. Dunne."

"I knew he brought us presents." Tanner chuckled, moving to sit on the bed beside the con man, lightly slapping Ezra's leg.

JD set aside the ones marked for Inez, Mary, Miss Nettie and Casey and feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, he quickly handed each of the men the gift bearing their name.

Shortly with the plain brown wrapping paper scattered over the floor, the men sat in stunned silence, amazed by the gambler's thoughtfulness.

JD sat silently for several minutes staring at the pictographs of Boston, letting the old familiar memories wash over him before excitedly showing the others, pointing out the park where he and his mother went after church, the market where they shopped and the wharfs where he had watched the ships being unloaded.

Buck was thrilled with the new shirt and cologne saying there was no way Inez would be able to resist him now.

Josiah was struck speechless at the beauty of the hand carved silver crucifix Ezra had purchased for him.

Chris immediately lit one of the expensive cigars from the box as he admired the silver carry case.

Vin's fingers slowly traced the fancy leather binding and golden gilt of the book of poetry in his lap before carefully opening the cover and gingerly turning the pages, a smile beginning to grow as he immediately recognized several words. 'Mr. Tanner, You have your own style but believe me when I say you're just as talented as anyone in this book.' was carefully printed on the inside cover.

He looked at Ezra in awed wonder, his smile widening making his blue eyes dance with delight at the gambler's confident wink. With that simple gesture the gambler was saying he knew Vin would be able to read the book and would offer any assistance necessary.

None of the men were more stunned or pleased than the healer. Nathan's hands trembled as he carefully lifted the new surgical instruments from their protective wrapping.

"What's that thing?" JD questioned pointing to what appeared to be a funnel on the end of a tube.

"It lets a doctor listen inside a person." Nathan responded automatically.

"You're kiddin'!" The sheriff turned to his best friend. "He's pullin' my leg ain't he Buck?"

"Come here JD." Holding one end of the tube in the younger man's ear, Nathan placed the funnel against the Bostonian's chest.

JD frowned. "What's that thumpin'?"

"Your heart." No one could contain their laughter as Dunne jumped back and then cautiously put the tube back to his ear.

"The second package is for everyone Mr. Jackson." Ezra informed him as the healer opened a padded box containing three full bottles of chloroform. "Although I appreciate being the recipient of your talents Nathan I think everyone would agree it's much more pleasant if we're able to sleep through the procedures."

"Ain't gonna get an argument from us." Josiah chuckled.

"Certainly makes it easier on me too. Don't have to listen to yer grumblin' and bitchin'..." 'Or your screams of pain.' A quick glance at the others revealed they were having the same problem as the healer. How could they properly thank the con man for his generosity. They now understood why the gambler had returned with so little funds. "Ezra I-"

Ezra cut him off as he motioned to JD. "Mr. Dunne, would you be willing to do me one last favor?"

"Course."

"Please run down and ask Inez for seven glasses. Mr. Larabee I realize you stated you have afternoon patrol but could you wait a few more minutes please." Moving cautiously Ezra lifted out the last package and carefully removed the cloth wrapping, a smile gracing his face when he held up the aged bottle of scotch. "Might I suggest a reunion toast?"

*******

"So Mr. Sanchez, if I recall correctly ya never told me just what question was so stupid as to earn you such a beautiful black eye and is the perpetrator still among the living." Ezra sipped at the small amount of liquor the healer had allowed him to enjoy.

"I'd say so since he just headed out on patrol." Vin laughed.

Ezra couldn't hide his shock. "Mr. Larabee?"

There it was again. The worry and...fear in the emerald eyes.

"Tell him Josiah." Tanner ordered.

"The night ya got back...we were in the clinic waitin' for ya to wake up." The preacher began, his gaze on the amber liquid in his glass. "Ya hadn't been able to tell us anything and..."

"We were tryin' ta figure out what had happened Ez." Buck volunteered. "I mean Vin left ta meet ya and ya come back alone dressed like..."

"That is perfectly understandable Mr. Wilmington. I too would have been puzzled in your position. You were concerned about what might have happened to Mr. Tanner."

"We was worried about you too Ezra." Nathan was quick to assure him.

"Of course."

"Chris got pissed and asked if we were at all worried about you." Josiah looked ashamed afraid the gambler would take everything the wrong way. His fingers absently rubbed the faded bruise. They needn't have been concerned. Ezra knew they had worried, had been surprised to hear Larabee hadn't left the clinic until Ezra was awake and on the road to recovery. "I was so damn angry son...I..."

"Mr. Larabee informed me you attempted to remove Clive's head from his shoulders before they could take him to our humble jail." Standish admitted setting the glass on the nightstand, finding the combination of food and alcohol was making it difficult to fight his weariness. "I assume you answered Mr. Larabee with a question of your own."

"I told him we all knew who was laying in that bed and that we were all worried about you but I wondered if he was worried cause you were hurt or because you was the only one who knew what happened ta Vin."

"And for asking such a reasonable question our esteemed leader-"

"Knocked him flat on his ass!" Buck provided. "Usually the only one that can piss him off that bad is you Ez."

Ezra began to laugh, picturing the stunned expressions on each of their faces as he admitted. "Now that would have been something to see."

There were several more minutes of laughter and conversation before seeing the gambler struggling to keep his eyes open the men drifted from the room.

"Mind if I hang around awhile Ez." Tanner asked moving to the old rocker.

"As ya wish Mr. Tanner but I fear I shall be very poor company."

Vin settled down in the chair, gathering the poetry book in his callused hands and holding it like it was the most precious thing in the world. To the sharpshooter it was a priceless gift and he hoped there was something almost as valuable that he could give the gambler in return. His huskily spoken words were soft.

"He missed ya Ez...I think more than even he wants ta admit...We all did but Chris most a all...cept maybe me...He was afeared ya wouldn't come back...That things wouldn't be made right betwixt ya...We all found us a family here and I reckon ya goin' off ta Denver made him realize it..."

The gambler shut his eyes against the tears caused by the Texan's softly uttered words.

Did he dare believe?...Perhaps...At least it was a nice dream.

He sighed softly realizing Vin Tanner would never lie to him. Holding that precious thought close to his heart, he drifted to sleep, to the sounds of the rocker and the turning of pages.

THE END

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