Sliding to the ground in a small glade at the edge of town, the little boy dropped the rope reins, ground hitching his sorry looking mount.

"I'll be back as quick as I can my friend," he stated softly, giving the sway backed old horse an affectionate pat. Pulling the old hide coat he wore tighter against the chilly late fall wind, he left the shelter of the trees and entered the town using the back streets and shadowed alleyways.

The bright sunshine couldn’t circumvent the harsh wind, a sure indication that winter would soon be upon them. Shoving his hands deep into the pockets of the worn jacket, he ran through a mental list of needed supplies. He wished his limited funds were enough for a, much needed, new coat but that was a luxury that would have to wait.

Taking a deep breath the boy stepped from the alley and alert for anyone paying him undue attention casually strolled down the dusty main street, just as if it were an every day occurrence. The little town was like a dozen other western towns he and his mother had passed through with a few houses scattered about and weather worn buildings that doubled as businesses and homes.

Unable to shake the feeling he was being observed the boy searched the faces of the people who hurried along the boardwalk, or lounged about talking with friends. His heart began to pound wildly when his emerald gaze momentarily met the hard hazel eyes of a lean, black clad, man exiting the saloon.

Pulling his gaze away, the boy hurried into the mercantile happy to see there were enough customers to prevent the shopkeeper from taking the time to question him too closely, but not enough for him to have to spend an excessive amount of time in the store.

Quickly gathering several cans of goods from the shelves, he placed them on the corner of the counter he was barely tall enough to see over and returned to examine the other merchandise. His eyes kept straying to the corner where several shelves of shirts, pants, coats and other clothing were on display. Making a quick decision, he crossed the room and decided on a thick pair of gloves, trying them on to be certain they fit before adding them to his meager pile.

“Can I help you young man?” The woman behind the counter smiled pleasantly when he added the last item to the pile and stood waiting patiently to pay.

“Yes ma’am. I would like to purchase these items. I also need a can of lamp oil, a pound of bacon and a half pound each of coffee, sugar and flour and one of those blankets please.” He politely requested, pointing to a shelf he couldn’t reach.

“I’m Mrs. Potter. I own this store. I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before. Your family new to these parts?” The shopkeeper questioned, making conversation as she gathered the needed supplies and tallied the amount of his purchases.

“Yes ma’am. It’s the first time we’ve been in this part of the territory,” he answered cautiously.

“Well, you’ll find this is a pretty good place ta settle. Josiah’s repairin’ the church and has services every Sunday when possible. When we hire a teacher, it most likely will double as a school. At least until we can get a proper one built.” Seeing the bottle of cough syrup among his supplies she continued. “We don’t have a doctor but Nathan is a right fine healer. If ya ever need him he’s got a place on the second floor of the building across from Yosemite’s livery.”

“Thank ya ma’am. I’ll be sure and remember that.”

“That’ll be four dollars and fifty three cents.” Turning the book around so he could see the figures, she began placing the items in the cloth bag he’d brought with him. She smiled as glancing cautiously around the child removed a small cloth pouch from inside his old coat and carefully counted out the money.

“Mrs. Potter, may I have a penny’s worth of hard candy and a penny’s worth of licorice please?” He asked, placing the worn bills and change on the counter.

Taking an instant liking to the child Mrs. Potter slipped several of the cookies she’d baked that morning into the bag with the candy. “I hope to see you again soon.”

“Thank you ma’am.” Awkwardly, clutching the heavy bag of supplies, the boy hurried from the store almost dropping the bundle when he bumped into the long legs of a man on the boardwalk.

“Whoa there Hoss.” Steadying the boy, the mustached man stooped down in front of him.

“Excuse me sir.”

“My fault little fella.” The man smiled. “Wasn’t payin’ attention ta where I was goin’ cause ol’ JD there was yappin’ my ears off.”

“Don’t blame me. You’d a seen him yerself if ya hadn’t been makin’ cow eyes at Miss Suzanne.” The younger man chuckled batting his eyes in mock flirtation.

The boy glanced at the second man, his eyes widening as he spotted the point of a tin star pinned to the vest under the younger man’s coat.

“Ya okay Pard?”

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat and struggling to remain composed, the boy nodded. “I’m fine, but if you’ll excuse me my brother is waiting for me.”

Adjusting his bundle, he scooted past the men and continued down the boardwalk. After what he considered a safe distance he looked back and making certain he wasn’t being watched quickly ducked into the nearest alley.

Hurrying down the alley until he was behind the business he had located earlier, he decided he had to take a chance obtaining the item he considered as important as the lamp oil. Stashing the bundle behind some empty crates he fished a silver dollar from his money pouch. Hesitating, he listened at the back door before quietly slipping inside.

*******

“It’s alright Vin it’s just me,” the boy called as he wearily slid from the back of the horse. Setting the supply bag on the porch, he managed a grin when the door of the old shack was thrown open and a thin boy hurried outside to greet him.

“I’ll tend Soldier.” The boy’s blue eyes sparkled with happiness at the safe return of his companion. Leading the animal to the side of the building, he gently pulled on the reins for the horse to lower his head. Removing the bridle and releasing the horse into the broken down corral, he hurried back into the one room cabin.

“I cleaned up yer coat as best I could Ez.” Removing said article of clothing, Vin brushed at some missed dust before hanging the wool jacket on the hook beside the door.

“I’m sure you did but what’s important is that it keeps you warm and these should help.” Ezra smiled as he produced the gloves he’d purchased.

“T-thanks Ez.” The other child stared at the gloves as if they were the most wondrous things he’d ever seen. “Get you a pair too?”

“Unfortunately, they only had this pair left.” Ezra easily lied, not wanting the other boy to feel badly. “Maybe the general store in Eagle Bend will have some.”

“Reckon we’ll just have ta share then.”

Ezra grinned. “Reckon so.”

Looking around the cabin, it was obvious his friend had been busy during his absence. The apparently abandoned cabin had been cleaned, their few belongings placed neatly on the shelves attached to the wall, yet easily within reach if they required a quick escape. The box next to the potbelly stove overflowed with twigs and broken tree limbs and Ezra had noticed the stack of wood on the porch near the door.

“I asked you to rest while I was gone,” he gently chided.

“I feel a lot better.” Vin choked back a cough, his expression suddenly downcast. “Ya don’t like it?”

“Of course I do. It looks wonderful.” Instantly regretful he hugged the thin boy before leading him to the table. “Come see what else I was able to obtain.”

“Taters! Them’ll sure taste fine iffen the snares I set catch us a rabbit.” Exclaiming over the purchases as the bag was emptied, Vin helped put the canned goods, dried apples, vegetables and other food on the counter with the few items the previous occupants had left behind. “Peaches!” The youngster beamed. “Ezra ya got us some peaches!”

“Of course.” Carefully filling the lantern with the coal oil, the boy’s emerald eyes sparkled with delight at his friend’s display of pleasure. “I know how much you enjoy them and they’re good for you. For now I think you deserve a reward for all your hard work.” Opening the bag of candy, Ezra was surprised to find the pieces of cookies, broken during transportation.

Seated at the table, their feet swinging inches above the floor, the boys nibbled on the cookies, Vin listening in fascination as Ezra described the town of Four Corners.

“Ya actually saw the sheriff?” His azure eyes filled with fear as he visibly began to shiver.

“There’s no reason ta worry Vin. I didn’t give him the chance ta ask me any questions.”

“Did ya see my poster? They always put the posters up so people can see ‘em. Did ya see it?”

“No I didn’t see yer poster. Please don’t worry yourself Vin, you’ll only get sick again.” Ezra slipped from the chair and wrapped his arms around the trembling boy. “You didn’t do anything wrong and I won’t let anyone punish you again. Nobody’s gonna hurt ya ever again,” he vowed.

“Ya didn’t do nothin’ wrong either Ez.” Vin wiped at his tear filled eyes with the back of his hand.

“Well, that is a matter of opinion.”

“Well, that’s my opinion!” Vin declared adamantly.

“And yours is the opinion that matters most to me.” The boy smiled. “Why don’t ya lay down for awhile and I’ll get us some supper started.”

Vin’s protest ended in a fit of coughing. Finally able to catch his breath he climbed into the bottom bunk, curling on his side and giving his friend a small smile when Ezra added the new blanket to the one under which he huddled.

*******

Awakened by his friend’s ragged coughing, Ezra padded across the cold floor and added wood to the fire before returning to the bunks, carrying the bottle of medicine he’d purchased at the store. Not wanting his friend to feel closed in, he'd given Vin the upper bed.

“Wake up Vin.” Prepared for his friend’s reaction, the boy gently shook Vin’s shoulder.

With a startled yelp, Vin jerked away, scooting across the bed until his back hit the wall. “No! Please don’t-“

“It’s alright Vin…It’s alright.” Ezra kept his voice soft and soothing, smiling when recognition registered in Vin’s eyes and he slowly relaxed. “Sorry I had to wake you but you need to drink some of this. It will help you get well.”

Taking the offered bottle, with a shaky hand, the boy sniffed the contents. “Smells like dead skunk.”

“It probably tastes just as bad.” Ezra laughed. “However I’m hoping it will help rid you of your cough.”

Vin choked back a large swallow, making a face in disgust. “Didn’t mean ta wake ya.”

“As you know, I’m used to late hours.” He tugged the covers around the other boy’s shoulders. “Now try to get some sleep. I’m afraid ya may have overdone it a bit today. The more you rest the quicker you’ll get better.”

Sitting with his friend until Vin fell asleep once more, Ezra eased himself down to the lower bunk and lay thinking about the circumstances which had brought them to this little shack in the middle of nowhere.

Left in the care of an aunt while his mother traveled with her latest mark, Ezra Standish had suddenly found himself a resident of the territorial orphanage when the elderly woman had unexpectedly passed away. As always he had known none of his relatives would bother to answer the telegrams sent by the sheriff regarding the young southerner.

It wasn’t the first time young Standish had been the resident of an orphanage. Tired of looking after the five-year-old, a distant cousin had once left him at the gates of an institute ran by nuns. Another time he’d been caught playing Three Card Monte on the street and, unable to find his mother, the local law had sent him to a nearby orphanage.

Being an old hand at dealing with such places; he knew most orphanages allowed the children to keep the clothes they brought with them. They hoped the child would be claimed by a relative or adopted before any funds had to be spent for replacements and the clothing handed down to younger children.

Before the sheriff arrived; Ezra had quickly hidden the money from the cookie jar as well as the more expensive pieces of his aunt’s jewelry in the false bottom of his carpetbag. He also added a small, framed drawing she had of his mother and herself to his small cache of treasured items.

The child felt no guilt over his actions. He knew he wasn’t a thief. His mother would be appalled at the very thought. She had often explained there was a difference between their profession and common thievery. It wasn’t stealing if the mark chose to hand over their money and a good con artist could make a person beg to take their cash.

Even at his young age, Ezra could pick a pocket as easily as he could pick a lock but those talents were only used for emergencies such as retrieving evidence which could cause them trouble or escaping the law. No Ezra Standish wasn’t a thief, but he was a survivor. He could easily rationalize his actions. Aunt Allison had been Maude’s favorite relative and truly seemed to care for him. He was certain his aunt, knowing he would need the funds, would rather he have the few items than the greedy relatives who normally ignored her but would now crawl out of the woodwork to claim her small estate.

Arriving at the orphanage, Ezra had immediately sized up the administrator. Maude was the consummate con woman and had taught her son to read people as well as some children read books.

Smiling, Simon Richardson had assured the sheriff he understood the situation and Ezra would be well cared for until his mother returned. The child had been quick to note the man’s smile didn’t reach the cold gray eyes and Richardson’s benevolent expression had immediately faded with the departure of the lawman. Unlike the nuns, it was plain to the boy this man didn’t give a whit about the children in his charge. They were merely a job…a means to an end.

Clutching his carpetbag, Ezra had silently followed the man through the run down building, to a large room filled with rows of cots, listening as Richardson voiced the punishment for breaking the endless list of strict rules.

Ezra had quickly come to realize there was no leniency in the administrator. The orphanage was his own private kingdom and Richardson ruled it with an iron hand. No one opposed him without paying the price, not the hired underlings and most definitely not the children. The little southerner knew he wouldn’t be able to charm this dictator or talk his way out of trouble. He could only hope his stay would be short lived and Maude would find him...she always did.

For the first few days, Ezra had kept to himself, observing the happenings, learning which children bullied the others taking belongings and food from the smaller ones, who pawned their work off on others and who was favored by the adults. He was able to discern which adults were most likely to show compassion or cruelty and which children or employees reported to Richardson for rewards.

In his nine years of life, the boy had worked enough cons with his mother to suspect the administrator was most likely skimming from the institutions coiffures. It was evident clothes weren’t replaced until absolutely necessary, patchwork repairs were done to the building, the cook was forced to stretch her small budget by purchasing nearly spoiled vegetables, and begging the nearest residents into supplementing the meat supply by hunting, paying them a small amount when possible.

Despite the deplorable condition of the government funded orphanage, Richardson’s own small home was in excellent repair and expensively furnished, his wife and children well dressed, healthy and well fed.

To his surprise, from his first few days there, Ezra had found himself fascinated by the boy who occupied the next cot. He was thin with shoulder length light brown hair and sad blue eyes. The boy said very little, however it was rare when anything missed his observant gaze.

Ezra discovered Vin Tanner had arrived at the institute several months earlier. Having lost his mother at the age of five, the boy had spent the last three years in the care of his grandfather, a hard man who had preferred life in the wilderness to civilization.

Ezra had rapidly noted the boy attempted to protect the weaker children from the bullies and more than once Ezra had found himself suppressing a smile when the cook covertly added extra food to the boy’s plate. Obviously, like himself, she had seen the too thin youngster share his meager meals with some of the younger children who complained of hunger.

It became apparent the two boys were as different as their sleep habits; Vin rising with the songbirds while Ezra was more of a night owl yet a cautious friendship had begun to develop when Ezra had stood up to one of the older boys in Vin’s defense. That action had resulted in the bully nursing a black eye and the southerner receiving the first of many punishments from Richardson.

While the other children spent their free time playing tag, hide and seek and other childhood games, the two boys sat in conversation. Ezra told Vin about the cities he’d visited and Vin described learning about the wilderness from his grandfather and his companionship with the tribe of Indians who had camped near their homestead.

Ezra wasn’t sure exactly why Richardson targeted the two boys, labeling them as troublemakers. He often wondered if it wasn't because their beds were next to the hall door and therefore the first ones the administrator noticed when he entered the room.

Richardson appeared to take great pleasure in punishing the shy little boy when embarrassed by his poor reading skills Tanner often said nothing if called upon during morning classes.

As the days continued to pass their friendship deepened into an unbreakable bond of brotherhood. Ezra stopped thinking of ways to convince Maude to take Vin with them and started concentrating on plans of escape as Richardson’s obvious animosity for the two boys escalated. He worked them to the point of exhaustion around the orphanage, often hired them out as farmhands and doled out extreme punishments for imagined indiscretions.

Their situation had reached its climax one fateful night and sent the boys on the run.

It was just after midnight when Ezra had been awakened by Vin's stifled cries of fear. Prepared to assure Tanner it was just a nightmare as he had all the other times, the southerner was surprised to see his terrified friend being dragged through the doorway by Richardson.

"Please don't put me in there! I didn't do nothin' I swear I didn’t!" Vin quietly begged as the man painfully twisting the child’s arm, dragged him toward a nearby tiny storage closet. Richardson knew the dark little punishment room frightened most of the children. The amount of time spent locked in the small space, listening to the mice scurrying about, depended on the infraction.

"You were born weren't you?" Richardson had laughed. His words were slurred and Ezra could smell the stench of liquor emanating from the man. "You're a murderer boy. Your poor mother worked herself to death taking care of you! She’s dead cause of you! Your grandfather knew ya weren’t any good. That’s why he kept ya away from God fearin’ decent folks. Maybe I’ll just turn ya over to tha law…Let ‘im hang ya like they do other murderers!"

Hatred surged through the little gambler when mortified by the thought he was responsible for his beloved mother's death, Vin had hung his head and surrendered to the punishment he thought he deserved, his tears flowing as the door was slammed behind him. 

"Leave 'im alone!" Ezra darted into the hall, unsuccessfully attempting to pull Richardson away, before finally placing himself between the man and the closet door preventing the administrator from inserting the key in the lock. "Yer a liar! Vin didn't kill anybody!"

"Get the hell outta my way boy!" Simon growled, roughly shoving the southerner backwards.

"No!" His insides quivering, the nine-year-old stood his ground determined to defend his brother. "Vin didn't do anything wrong and you ain’t punishin’ him anymore!"

"Ya want some a this ya smart mouthed little bastard!" Richardson sneered, his eyes taking on an evil glint. "Ya got yer wish." Grabbing Ezra by the nape of the neck he shoved the child down the hall to his office.

“Know that little ol’ room don’t scare you. The devil likes the dark.” Forcing the youngster to bend over the ottoman, he lashed the struggling boy’s wrists to the legs of the old footrest.

He was right about the punishment room. The one time Ezra had been forced to spend time in the musty storage space, he had passed the time shuffling the cards he kept secreted in the inside pocket of his jacket. Thanks to Maude’s training he had been able to mentally distance himself from the pain of cramped muscles and the feel of rodents climbing over his feet to get to the holes in the wall. In his mind’s eye he had pictured the route he and Vin would take to reach Denver.

“Crop and paddle didn't work. Even the crucifix didn’t do no good but this will. Yer a real tough little sonuvabitch but this strap's beat the devil more than once," Richardson chuckled, removing the razor strap from the bottom drawer of the desk, weaving drunkenly as he approached.

His thin nightshirt offered no protection and as much as he tried Ezra couldn’t prevent his cries when the leather viciously connected with his back. The second stroke caught him across his shoulder, ripping the cloth and slicing his skin. Blood dripped down his chin as he bit into his lip in an attempt to prevent his screams. Unable to completely pull away from the pain, he found himself becoming lost in a world of agony after the third lash.

His eyes squeezed tightly closed, braced for the next blow, he was barely aware of, but didn’t understand, the grunts of pain or sounds of a heavy body hitting the floor.

"Ya okay Ez?"

Trying to catch his breath, concentrating on breathing through the pain, Ezra slowly opened his eyes certain he’d imagined the soft voice. He blinked, trying to focus on the small shaking hands that fumbled with the rope binding his wrists. "V-Vin?"

"Hold on a m-minute E-Ez...Al..most got it," Vin mumbled through his own tears.

Turning his head slightly, Ezra was stunned to see Richardson sprawled on the floor, the heavy paddle lying next to his motionless form. “V-Vin?”

"I think I killed 'im," Tanner whispered, the tears coming harder. "Now they will hang me!"

His hands finally free, Ezra took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet. Shoving the pain to the back of his mind, he forced himself to kneel beside the still body of the fallen administrator.

"Didn’t m-mean t-to…J-just couldn't let 'im hurt ya c-cause a me."

"He's not dead." Ezra assured his friend, seeing the even rise and fall of the man's chest.

“Didn’t m-mean ta kill ‘im…D-didn’t m-mean ta k-kill Mama.”

“You didn’t! He’s not dead and ya sure didn’t kill your mother! Just get that thought out of your head.” Ezra stared up at the other boy, seeing the pale complexion and emotionless eyes, Vin’s shock at what he’d done settling over him.

"Come on!" Taking Vin's hand he shut the office door and quickly led the other boy back to the dorm room.

“Get dressed Vin,” Ezra whispered the stern order in the boy’s ear, shoving clothes into his hand.

As he dressed, Ezra continued to glance at his friend, watching Vin’s automatic movements as he followed the older boy's directive. Pulling on his boots, Ezra stuffed Vin's few belongings, including the old family bible and his beloved harmonica, into his carpetbag.

“Let’s go.” Rolling up the two blankets, he shoved them into Vin’s arms. Gripping his friend’s wrist to be certain he followed, Ezra quietly moved through the silent building, and slipped out the back entrance disappearing into the black of the moonless night.

*******

For two nights the boys had hidden themselves in the barn loft of an old gentleman whose crops they’d once been hired out to help harvest. Squeezing as close to the wall as possible, buried in the loose hay, barely able to hear over their pounding heartbeats they’d overheard two men who had stopped to water their horses. They’d listened as the men described Vin and Ezra, their violent actions against the administrator and the numerous search parties out looking for them.

Finally having deemed the search parties to have given up and praying he was right, Ezra had announced it was time they moved on before the farmer discovered their presence. The boys struck out walking, keeping to the woods or back trails to avoid being seen.

Ezra had spent the first three days keeping up a constant stream of comforting whispers and reassurances hoping to bring the other boy out of his stunned state. Vin silently followed orders, drinking from the jar of water, Ezra had filled from the well, in the middle of the night, half-heartedly eating the apples pilfered from the barrel beside the door of the root cellar and closing his eyes when told to sleep.

It wasn’t until Ezra had become frustrated while searching for adequate shelter from the rain that Vin had seemed to pull himself from his depressed trance, pointing out a nearby shallow cave which would offer them protection. After all, the Texan was as comfortable in the forest as Ezra was in the city.

The days had fallen into a pattern, as the boys had made their way towards Denver, Ezra assuring his friend that once there he would be able to provide food, shelter and warmth from the cold until Maude arrived.

Until they reached that fair city it would be Tanner’s knowledge that helped them survive. Vin taught Ezra how to build shelters, cook over a fire and which plants, roots and berries he knew were edible. The young southerner had been extremely impressed when the little Texan had stood patiently in the cold water of a small creek and using a sharp stick he’d found speared two fish for their dinner.

Each time they neared a small town, while Tanner built their shelter, Ezra marked his trail just as Vin had shown him and searched out the general store, using his precious funds to purchase much needed supplies. Just a few at a time he’d explained to Vin, so as to keep people from getting suspicious. Canned goods, fishing line and hooks, hatchet, flint and stone. At each town the southerner took time to send Maude a coded telegram to different locations, knowing she would eventually receive one of his messages.

Upon one such foray, he was impressed to find Vin had fashioned a small travois so they could pull rather than carry the provisions they’d acquired.

Several days later, about to put the old animal down, the livery owner of one small town had happily sold a sway back old gray nag to the little southerner for two dollars. Traveling wasn’t any faster with the aged animal but at least they saved wear and tear on their boots, he reasoned.

Days continued to pass, the wind grew colder and the colorful leaves of the bare trees crunched under their feet. Neither boy was certain how long it had been since they’d escaped Richardson’s hell but neither would voice the thought they wouldn’t make it to Denver before the first snow set in.

In the town of Eagle Bend, Ezra had taken the time to replenish his dwindling funds by setting up a Three-Card Monte game outside one of the saloons. In two hours he'd tripled his money and discovered there were two more little towns within a half day’s ride.

The chest cold Vin had recently caught continued to worsen. They had really needed to stop for a few days so the little Texan could rest somewhere warm and out of the weather when they had come upon the small unoccupied shack nestled in the woods at the edge of a large meadow. There were no nearby neighbors and for all intents the building looked abandoned. Realizing Vin would feel safer with less people around Ezra had opted to stop until Tanner had recovered.

*******

“Ya think maybe we can stay here forever Ez?” Seated at the table Vin concentrated on writing his letters on the slate Ezra had purchased for him during his latest trip to town.

Ezra glanced around the little cabin. It certainly wasn’t the best place he’d ever spent time but it certainly wasn’t the worst either.

Deciding they wouldn’t reach Denver before bad weather and not wanting to be caught out in the open during an unexpected snowstorm, the two had decided it was safer to pass the winter in the deserted homestead.

With Ezra making certain Vin was dressed warmly and stopped often to rest, the boys had worked hard turning the dilapidated shelter into a passable home.

Vin had made a mixture of mud, twigs and pebbles which they’d used to chink the reachable cracks in the walls and seal around the only window. A portion of every day was spent adding to their supply of firewood and trying to repair the corral and lean-to for Soldier. An old barrel had been rolled the half-mile to the stream, scrubbed clean and checked for leaks before it was returned to the corner of the house to capture the rain.

Between the bow and arrows he’d made and his snares, Vin was becoming a fairly proficient small game hunter and they rarely were without fresh meat.

Once a week, wearing Vin’s old coat so as not to stand out, Ezra made a trip into Eagle Bend, where he set up his card game. The residents of that particular town seemed more caught up in their own lives and less likely to be curious about a lone boy hanging around the saloons. The money made in Eagle Bend was spent at Mrs. Potter’s store in Four Corners or the tiny mercantile in Miller’s Creek. Always careful with their funds, Ezra only spent money on food and other needed provisions. Ever cautious he never spent more time in the towns than was absolutely necessary.

He didn’t think it wise to trouble Vin’s conscience by telling him the frying pan, coffeepot, cups, utensils and other needed items were bought without the owners’ knowledge or permission. The little grifter would slip into the back of restaurants, hotels and other businesses, taking only what was needed and he always left a fair amount as compensation for the pilfered items.

Realizing his companion was looking at him expectantly, he cleared his throat. “Perhaps,” he finally answered. “Maybe if we can save enough money we’ll travel to Denver on the train.”

Vin’s blue eyes grew large. “Never been on a train afore.”

“Then if that’s what we decide, you’ll be in for a real treat.”

Suddenly remembering Ezra had a mother he must miss as much as he still missed his own, Vin quickly backpedaled. “Might be better iffen we move on come Spring. Stay in one place too long and those huntin’ is liable ta find ya.”

“We have plenty of time to plan and make our decision,” Ezra assured him. Having spent most of his young life in what passed for civilization he wasn’t especially fond of the woods but he was extremely fond of Vin.

He liked having Tanner for a brother. The boy had given his friendship freely, not out of a sense of obligation and had never asked anything in return. Vin didn’t judge him or didn’t make him feel unworthy of being in the presence of honest people. They had shared secrets, however hesitant Ezra had been at first but Vin had proven trustworthy, holding those secrets close to his heart.

Absently Ezra thought of the lectures he would surely receive from his mother for having broken most of Maude’s commandments.

Still uncertain how he would convince his mother to let Vin stay with them, he’d been practicing arguments in his mind. The Texan was far to honest to be useful for a con and it was highly unlikely Maude could utilize Vin’s talents as a woodsman. Perhaps Ezra could play on her sympathy. He rationalized the tact might possibly work because while Maude put up a tough façade she found it reprehensible for a child to be abused.

‘Never bothered her when relatives was kickin’ the hell outta you.’ His inner voice chided.

However, in all honesty, he had never told his mother about the beatings he’d suffered at the hands of more than one uncle or shirttail cousin. Any bruises still visible upon her return were explained as received while playing, a broken arm supposedly happened when he fell from a horse etc… Adults weren’t to be contradicted, pain was to be ignored and illness was merely a state of mind. Complaining was a waste of time and energy, accomplishing nothing.

Pushing aside the bitter memories, he focused on the here and now. Could they stay here? Could he and Vin survive on their own in this harsh territory for more than a short time? He’d been on his own before. Maude had always taught him to depend on himself and not to count on others for assistance. He was certain he could manage on his own but now there was someone else depending on him and someone he could depend on. He had no doubt, once in Denver he would have no problem finding a place for them to live and earning enough money for necessities but here...

He glanced around the cabin again. They were surviving. Combining their skills, the two of them had managed to make the run down building livable. If the weather would hold out a bit longer they would be able to add to their wood supply and make any other preparations which might help them survive the winter. If worse came to worse he could always move them to one of the nearby towns. He’d start working on a believable story for why the two boys were on their own…just in case.

Whether it was living here, in Denver, the California desert or a Florida swamp, all that really mattered was keeping Vin safe. He would do whatever it took to protect his brother, even if it meant defying Maude.

“We have plenty of time to decide,” he repeated confidently. “By then no one will be lookin’ for us.”

“Ol’ Richardson won’t never give up.” A shiver racked Vin’s body at the thought of the sadistic man and Ezra’s resolve strengthened. There was no way he would let his Texas brother fall into Richardson’s hands again. He would die before he allowed that to happen!

*******

Buck Wilmington refilled his coffee cup and eased himself into the only other chair in the jailhouse as the owner of the Royal Hotel exited. “I’m tellin’ ya Hoss, things are getting’ stranger around here every week.”

The jovial womanizer was still reeling from the news earlier in the month that Miss Glenda had bought the baked goods shop from Merriweather. He’d spent days trying to imagine the voluptuous madam of the bawdy house in an apron, covered in flour as she kneaded bread dough. He hadn’t been surprised to discover the big hearted woman had bought the store as a profitable and respectable way to make a living and possibly find a husband for her girls who decided they were ready to get out of the business.

Buck shook his head. “Things disappearin’ inta thin air. Money appearin’ outta no where. Merriweather headin’ for the gold fields and Ol’ man Ashton just up and suddenly decides ta spend the winter back east. Hell, that man’s been on that spread a his since before most people even knew there was any country past St. Louis.”

“He went to find a wife.” JD announced, sorting and hanging the latest dodgers, which had arrived with the mail.

“What!” Buck and Chris questioned simultaneously staring at the young sheriff.

“For who?” Wilmington chuckled, certain the youngster was pulling their legs.

“For himself, that’s who.” JD rolled his eyes in exasperation. “That’s what he told Miss Nettie. Said he’s been a widower for almost twenty years and since there aren’t that many single women around here he was gonna go spend the winter with his family and find himself a bride.”

“Well whatda’ ya know! The old dog’s still got some bark left in him.”

“Merriweather once told me his folks owned a bakery in New York,” JD continued. “Said he’d been on his way to California when his wagon broke down. He went ta work at the restaurant ta make enough money for repairs and supplies. But instead he ended up openin’ his shop, cause everybody made such a big deal ‘bout how good his bread and desserts was.”

“All the gold stakes done been claimed or played out years ago,” the womanizer snorted derisively. “Even iffen they weren’t; huntin’ gold’s a young fella’s game. Hell even Chris there’s to old for such foolishness.”

Chris Larabee gave his best friend a mock glare. “Yer only a year younger than me Wilmington but I guess yer never to old for a lesson in showin’ respect for your elders.”

“Just sayin’ yer age gives ya the wisdom ta avoid such idiotic notions.” Buck grinned, giving his friend a teasing wink.

“Thought that’s what I understood ya ta say,” the gunslinger smiled. “Ya know, that silly fool could strike it rich just openin’ a shop in the gold fields.”

“True enough,” Buck conceded. “Hell, I hear during its peak, they was paying twenty dollars for a hot bath. Can ya image what they’d pay for fresh baked goods?”

Turning his attention back to the young sheriff, Wilmington scoffed. “So Sheriff since ya seem ta know everything else that’s goin’ on, how do ya explain all the things that’s been disappearin’ round town the last month or so? Not ta mention the money people keeps findin’.”

As the Bostonian began to theorize Chris rose and crossed the room, to stand staring out the window. The first snow of the season had begun to fall, soft and gentle, leaving a light blanket of white over the countryside. The latest freight wagons had been heavily laden with stock and it wouldn't be long before the stage would make its last run until spring.

“I been keepin’ a list a things that’s disappeared and the money that’s showed up,” JD stated, producing a sheet of writing paper from the desk drawer.

“A old coffee pot, a fryin’ pan and a butcher knife with a nicked blade, were takin’ outta the store room of the restaurant. A couple days later, a dollar and a half was found under a jar a pickles. Two cups, plates, bowls and some silverware disappeared outta the boardin’ house….”

Listening to JD read the growing list, Chris watched as down the street, Josiah Sanchez stood staring at the old church. The gunslinger could almost see the ex-priest running the list of still needed repairs through his mind, before with a sad shake of his head the big man turned and started toward the jail.

Larabee was certain Sanchez had started work on the church, as an act of penance for what he considered past sins but he was just as certain the repairs were an act of love.

‘I’m sure God considers your debt paid in full, my friend.’ Chris thought as the big man approached the door.

“Reckon we’re in for a long winter, getting snow this early.” Sanchez remarked, stomping the light dusting of white flakes from his boots.

“Hey Josiah!” JD greeted the preacher hurrying to pour him a cup of hot coffee.

‘Penance?…Paid in full?’

“It’s payment,” Chris blurted out suddenly.

The three men exchanged looks of bewilderment at Larabee’s comment.

“That’s a mighty strange greeting but…It’s payment to you too brother,” Sanchez chuckled lifting his cup in a mock toast.

“Smart ass,” Larabee grinned, picking up the paper JD had set aside. “The money people keep finding…It’s payment for the items that have come up missin’.”

“I take it you’re discussing our recent crime wave of petty thefts.”

Dunne shook his head. “Everybody who had things taken found money but not everybody who’s found money have had things taken,” JD disagreed. “Inez found a dollar on the stove but didn’t seem ta have anything missin’.” When the bar manager had casually mentioned that she and Mrs. O’Riley had found money, the sheriff had off handedly began listening to other business owners for anything out of the ordinary.

“That list sounds like someone is stockin’ up for a long trip,” Wilmington remarked.

“Or settin’ up housekeepin’,” Josiah commented, reading over Chris’ shoulder. “Cookware, linens, a mirror…”

“A cracked mirror outta the back of the barber shop.” JD shrugged looking to the others for an answer. “Why would anybody want a broke mirror?”

“So you think who ever took those things, left the money ta pay for ‘em,” Buck questioned.

“That don’t make sense…Sorry Chris…” JD quickly apologized not wanting to offend his hero. “But why would anyone pay for things they stole when they coulda just bought them from the Mercantile.”

“Has anyone noticed that nothing has been stolen from individual families?” Josiah pointed out.

“And nothin’ taken has been new.” Chris frowned, restating the facts. “The towels from the bathhouse, the sheets from the hotel, the cookware from the restaurant…All taken from places that have extras. JD check it out but I’d bet all of it was the older stuff that doesn’t get used anymore.”

“Nobody seems too upset about the missing things,” Buck turned to his best friend as, pulling on his coat, Dunne rushed to do Larabee’s bidding. “Are we really lookin’ ta put someone in jail?”

The gunslinger shook his head. “Not unless it’s necessary.”

“I know that tone.” The jovial gunslinger leaned forward eyeing his best friend suspiciously. “What are you up to?”

Chris grinned. “As Josiah pointed out, it’s liable to be a long winter and do ya really wanna be snowed in with that bundle of energy tryin’ ta solve this puzzle?”

“Well, that boy does love a mystery,” Josiah chuckled.

Chris glanced out at the street. He had a mystery of his own he wanted solved.

*******

It was nearly three weeks before Larabee had the chance to begin finding answers.

Spotting Chris through the restaurant window, Seth Potter hurried inside, stopping long enough to beg pardon when he bumped into Mrs. Synder. His ma would have his hide if he didn’t mind his manners. “Mr. Larabee! Mr. Larabee!”

“Afternoon Seth.”

“Been lookin’ all over for ya Mr. Larabee.” The boy exclaimed breathlessly. “Ma said ta tell ya that person ya was askin’ ‘bout is over at the store now.”

“Thanks. Why don’t ya sit down here and have a big cup a cocoa. Get yourself warmed up.” Ignoring the curious looks of his friends, Chris shrugged into his duster and without a word to the others headed toward the general store.

*******

Ezra stood hesitantly in front of the closed door, fearing his desire to help might actually bring his friend more trouble. After a week or two reprieve Vin’s cold had returned and worsened. The cough medicine was gone and while the whiskey-laced coffee appeared to help the boy sleep it did little for the fever that seemed to grip the Texan after the sun went down.

Startled he took a step back when the door suddenly opened. A tall dark skinned man about to exit appeared as surprised as Ezra. “Well, hello there.”

“Hello sir.” The little southerner finally found his voice. “I..I was lookin’ for the healer. The shopkeeper said he lived here.”

“That would be me. I’m Nathan Jackson.”

Ezra hesitantly shook the offered hand. Until now he’d been able to avoid giving a name to anyone he met, except Mrs. Potter. “Ethan Stanovich. Pleased to meet you.”

It was unlikely anyone in this tiny town spoke Russian and the little southerner had learned enough phrases from a Count his mother had once associated with to pass muster if needed.

Nathan stepped back, motioning Ezra inside. “Come on in.”

“But you’re about to depart…I…I don’t want to inconvenience ya any.”

“Nonsense I was just gonna grab a bite of lunch. What can I do for you?”

“My…my b-brother has caught himself a bit of a cold and my folks thought ya might know somethin’ that would help.”

“Hold on while I get my bag and I’ll come along with ya and take a look at him.”

“No!” Not wanting to offend the man, knowing how some people felt about Negroes, the boy immediately began spouting the explanation he’d formed for anyone asking about his family. “I…I mean that’s not necessary. My folks don’t speak English and it tends ta make ‘em real leery of strangers.”

“That’s understandable.” Nathan nodded with an easy smile. “I work with the peacekeepers here so ya tell yer folks they got nothin’ ta fear from me. If they need me ya just let me know.”

Attempting not to shift about nervously, Ezra stayed near the door, ready to run if necessary, mentally picturing a route back to Soldier that would allow him to evade pursuers.

“Yer brother congested? Got a cough?”

He nodded. “A little.”

“Any fever?”

“A bit but it seems ta get worse at night.”

“Most fevers do,” Nathan stated pulling some bottles from a shelf. He wrapped several ingredients in paper, adding a jar to the small bag he was preparing. Sitting at the table he quickly wrote instructions on a piece of paper handing it to the boy. “Ya think ya can help yer ma with the instructions for makin’ this plaster? It’ll help with the congestion and the tea will help with the cough and fever.”

“Thank you sir.” Ezra pulled a bill and several coins from his pocket. “How much do I owe ya?”

Nathan hesitated, taking note of the threadbare coat and lack of hat or scarf but the pride in the emerald eyes decided for him. “Four bits should do it.”

“Much appreciated.” The southerner smiled handing him the coins.

“Don’t matter the time, if yer brother gets worse, don’t hesitate ta come get me,” the healer instructed. “If I ain’t here, most likely one of the lawmen knows where I am.”

“Thank you. I’ll remember.” Ezra shook his hand again and hurried from the small clinic.

*******

Frustrated, Chris marched toward the saloon, glancing in store windows as he passed.

Mrs. Potter had apologized, giving Larabee a list of the purchases, saying she’d detained the customer as long as possible.

‘Damnit! Where the hell did he go? ’

According to the owner of the mercantile, the customer Chris sought hadn’t left the store more than two minutes before Larabee’s arrival, yet the gunslinger hadn’t spotted him on the street.

“You look troubled brother,” Josiah commented, his path intersecting with Larabee’s.

Before Chris could answer, he spotted the subject of his search stepping from the clinic stairs. He paused a moment to adjust the large cloth bag he carried before turning into the nearby alley.

Brushing past the preacher, Larabee reached the alley only to discover it empty.

‘Well, at least the snow will make him easy to track. ’ Realizing the small footprints he followed led out of town, Chris quickly returned to the livery.

“Plannin’ on takin’ my patrol so I can spend the afternoon snuggled up with Molly?” Buck questioned hopefully when Chris began saddling his horse. Seeing his friend’s worried frown, the jovial gunman’s smile faded. “What’s goin’ on?”

Shaking his head, Chris led his black outta the barn and swung into the saddle, urging the animal to where the small footprints had departed the alley at the edge of town.

Wilmington had known Chris Larabee for more years than either of them cared to admit. As close as brothers, they’d stood together through the best and worst times of their lives. Able to read the Hoosier as easily as he could the dime novels JD loved, the ex-Texas Ranger knew Chris would talk to him when he’d worked it through in his own mind.

A light dusting of snow was beginning to fall when leading the horse outside, Buck mounted and just as he had for years, trailed after his friend, prepared to watch his back.

*******

Inez hurried forward with whiskey laced coffee when the two peacekeepers finally returned, seeking shelter in the saloon. Snow fell from their clothes, melting and leaving tiny puddles of water in its wake.

Helping them out of their coats, Nathan and Josiah hustled the two men close to one of the stoves heating the large room. Taking the towels JD had produced, the healer vigorously began rubbing Buck’s hair while Josiah did the same to Larabee.

“Damn Nate, yer gonna rub the hair right off my head iffen ya keep that up.” Wilmington complained after taking several gulps of the hot brew. “I had a hat on ya know.” With a grin he grabbed the damp towel from the healer’s grasp and wiped the last of the melted snow from his face and neck.

“Thought we was gonna have ta send out a search party.” Josiah smiled draping a dry towel around Larabee’s neck.

“What the hell did you two think ya were doing stayin’ out on patrol so long in this weather? Are ya tryin’ ta catch yer death a pneumonia?” Jackson lectured, taking the pot from the barmaid and refilling their cups.

“It’s only a little snow,” the womanizer grumbled, sinking into the chair JD pushed forward. “The way yer carryin’ on ya’d think we was out in the middle of a blizzard.”

“It could damn well become one in the blink of an eye and ya know it.”

“Nah…signs aren’t there.” Buck shrugged. “Probably stop in another hour or so. Ain’t even gonna get very deep. It’s just wet and colder than a witch’s heart.”

They were grown men who’d spent most of their lives surviving in the harsh western territories. They knew the consequences of being caught unprepared in a sudden storm but worried about his friends the healer wasn’t ready to concede the argument. “Any mischief makers dumb enough ta be out in this weather deserve ta get caught but that don’t mean y’all gotta be out there with ‘em.”

“Was followin’ someone.” Larabee mumbled. “Wanted ta make sure they got home safe.”

“And did they?”

The gunslinger couldn’t prevent the small sigh of defeat. “Sure hope so.”

His frowned deepened as he thought back on the day. He and Buck had followed the footsteps to a small glade where they’d found signs of a waiting horse and had immediately set out trailing the animal. Not wanting to frighten him, Chris hadn’t tried to catch up with the boy he was following.

Quickly reading the tracks, Buck had kept his silence for several miles, than mused aloud. “Wonder what’s on that travois it’s pullin’? Tracks ain’t deep enough for it ta be a person.”

‘Unless it’s a very small person.’ Neither man had voiced the thought.

They had followed the tracks which, quickly became obliterated by the falling snow, wound through the hills and changed directions several times before the rider seemed to decide where he wanted to go. Both lawmen recognized the apparent meandering for what it was, an attempt to keep anyone from following.

Recognizing the danger of being caught out in the heavily falling snow, the two men had finally given up trying to find the lost tracks and returned to town.

“Nate, what do ya know about that boy that came ta see ya this afternoon?” Settled at their usual table in the almost empty saloon, Larabee questioned the healer as bundled against the weather, Dunne and Sanchez left to make a quick patrol of the town before it was too cold to be outside.

Jackson frowned, shaking his head. “What boy?”

“Kid in a old tan coat, curly reddish brown hair…maybe six or seven years old.”

Pride filled emerald eyes flashed through Nathan’s mind at Larabee’s description. “Nothin’ really. Said his name’s Ethan Stanovich. Polite kid. Come by ta see if I had somethin’ could help with his brother’s cold. Paid cash money for the tea and plaster ingredients I give ‘im.”

Chris swirled the coffee in his cup. “How come his folks didn’t come see ya?”

“Kid said they’re leery a strangers cause they don’t speak English.”

Larabee nodded. It was the same story he’d told Mrs. Potter.

”Judging by his accent I’d say they been livin’ in the south since comin’ ta this country.” Nathan hazarded a guess. “Or at least that’s where they been livin’ for a while.”

“What’s botherin’ ya about this kid Pard?” Wilmington asked softly when Jackson went to the kitchen to see if Inez had another pot of coffee ready.

“I don’t know.” It was an honest answer. Larabee wasn’t sure what it was about this boy that had first attracted his attention or why he couldn’t seem to get the child out of his mind but the gunslinger had started keeping an eye out for him since first spotting him going to the Mercantile.

The kid had been poorly underdressed for the weather but that wasn’t unusual. It wasn’t as if Four Corners was a thriving metropolis. Most families had come to this part of the country looking for a new start and spent the first few years struggling just to get by. Yet, it appeared to Chris the clothes had seemed oddly out of place on the youngster as if he was used to wearing much better.

Perhaps it was because the boy seemed to go out of his way not to attract attention or the fact he seemed to appear and disappear without a trace? It occurred to Chris that the reports of things being taken had begun shortly after he first saw the child in town. Was his obsession with the strange boy simply a way of solving that mystery for JD? Or was it because the large dark fringed eyes which had briefly met his own had reminded him so much of Adam’s?

The reason didn’t matter. He wasn’t able to fight the urge to find out more about the boy. He needed to at least know the child was safe.

He couldn’t keep the unanswered questions from plaguing his thoughts. None of his men had reported anyone moving into the empty houses they passed on patrol and no one had mentioned any new neighbors or visiting relatives so where was the boy staying?

His discussion with Buck was brought to an abrupt end with the return of the others but the troubled thoughts of the mysterious child remained with both men.

*******

The sun had already dropped beneath the horizon an hour earlier when Ezra finally reached the small shack. Feeling as if he’d never be warm again, the southerner fumbled with the ropes, finally releasing the travois. Leading the old horse into the lean-to he took the time to break the thin layer of ice on the small trough. Carefully measuring out a can full of oats from the bag he had purchased in Miller’s Creek he fed Soldier and rubbed down the animal with an old rag they’d found inside the cabin. Leaning the travois against the side of the building he limped to the porch dragging the bag of supplies.

“It’s me Vin!” He called out as he crossed the narrow porch.

The door flew open and the little Texan helped carry the bag across the threshold before pulling Ezra closer to the stove. Without a word, Vin unbuttoned the boy’s coat and replaced it with one of the blankets off the bed. Pushing his shivering friend into a chair he placed a cup of coffee in the southerner’s trembling hands and kneeling, pulled off Ezra’s wet boots.

“V-V-Vin?” As the hot liquid began to warm his insides, Ezra watched his silent friend fuss over him.

“Ya need ta get outta them wet clothes.” Crossing to the makeshift dresser, he grabbed a towel, along with a folded shirt and pants.

“T-t-talk ta m-me V-Vin. What’s w-wrong?” His teeth chattering, Ezra sipped at the hot liquid.

“Ya scared me Ez!” Tanner declared, unable to prevent the anger in his tone. He had feared for the southerner’s safety. No one traveled in a snowstorm, especially alone, unless absolutely necessary. It was too easy to become disoriented and lost, too easy for a horse to flounder or slip, putting its rider on foot.

Out of necessity, Ezra had quickly become adept at traveling through the backwoods but he was still basically a city boy. Vin had been prepared to accompany his friend, waiting in the little glen as he had the few times before but fearing for his health, Ezra had insisted he remain behind when the Texan had been unable to control his coughing.

Retrieving a pair of socks he’d placed near the stove when it had begun to snow, Tanner stooped and jerked the wet socks off Ezra’s feet, quickly replacing them. “Thought sure that sheriff had tossed ya in jail or worse…that ya got lost in the snow and...”

“It’s okay Vin…Nothing bad happened. Everything’s-“

“Was afraid ya weren’t comin’ back,” Vin admitted quietly. The younger boy didn’t fear being alone. Even though he’d lived with his grandfather, he’d been alone since his mother’s death. He didn’t fear not having the supplies Ezra provided; he could survive without them. What he feared was losing the love and companionship of the boy who had become his brother. The thought of never seeing him smile, never hearing him laugh, never hearing the southerner tell him about the places he’d been or making plans for their future was something the Texan didn’t even want to consider.

He knew the odds were against them always being together. Ezra had a mother and someday she would find him and take him away with her. Vin was aware there was no reason for Maude to want him too but at least Ezra would be alive and safe. If Ezra was with Maude, Vin would know he still had a brother. He could hold on to the knowledge of Ezra’s love and know there was a chance they would cross paths again someday. That couldn’t happen if Ezra was laying frozen to death in the woods somewhere or if the southerner was sent back to the orphanage where Richardson would surely punish his brother until he finally killed him.

“Well rest easy cause I’m back.” Warmed by the knowledge, someone had worried about him, Ezra smiled, trying to ease his friend’s fear. “The sheriff didn’t get me and I didn’t get lost in the snow…although I don’t relish traveling in such weather again but now I’m home and my brother is taking very good care of me.” Staying next to the warmth of the stove, Ezra quickly changed into the dry clothes, commenting on the delicious aroma of the cooking dinner.

“Just heatin up the stew from yesterday and I’m goin’ with ya next time, no matter what!” Vin stated vehemently, realizing his brother was trying to distract him.

The combination of food and warmth was soon too much for the exhausted little southerner. He didn’t argue when Vin led him to the bottom bunk, climbing in beside him to share their few blankets.

“Sweet dreams brother.” Ezra immediately fell asleep, comforted by the Texan’s presence.

*******

“Been doin’ some thinkin’ Pard.” Wilmington remarked refilling his coffee cup as he and Chris lingered over breakfast several mornings later.

“Thought I heard a strange buzzin’ the last few days.” Larabee grinned.

“Ha Ha.” Buck sneered, happy to see his friend had begun to relax. “When was the last time ya was out ta yer cabin?” He was fairly certain he knew the answer but his idea depended on him being sure.

“Took some supplies out there and did some repairs for the winter a couple a weeks before the first snow.” Larabee shrugged. The cabin had been little more than a broken down shack when the gunslinger had filed a claim for the land. He hadn’t cared. Back then, it had been a place to get lost in a whiskey bottle when the pain of losing his family became more than he could bear.

When Chris had finally realized the men who formed the misfit team of peacekeepers had become his family, the land became the next step in rebuilding his life. Only Buck knew Larabee owned the three hundred and twenty acres surrounding the cabin; acreage that connected to the ranch he’d been building with his wife. The land, which now held the graves of his wife and son.

It was prime meadowland and eventually, when he was ready to try again, he planned to ask Wilmington to become his partner in building a horse ranch.

For now, his cabin was simply a place to escape the confines of civilization, however, lately he’d been giving the horse ranch a lot of thought.

“When we lost that kid’s tracks…they were headed toward yer property.” Buck remarked innocently, bringing the gunman back from his thoughts.

Chris gave him a hard look. “Ya think him and his folks are usin’ my cabin?”

“Nope. Kid was headed in the wrong direction.” Wilmington shook his head. “But the only other place I can think of, out that way, is that old line shack we found when we’s riding the property back in the Spring.”

Larabee leaned back in his chair staring at the dark liquid in his cup. Wilmington’s theory made sense. Surrounded by woods, the line shack sat on the edge of an enormous meadow, a few hours ride from Four Corners. He hadn’t given the dilapidated shack a second thought since he and Buck had discovered it earlier in the year.

“That place ain’t exactly on the beaten path.” Larabee sighed. “Which would explain why no one has noticed them.”

“Don’t know how they’d get a wagon there though. Any trails in and out are barely big enough for a horse.”

“Wagon coulda crossed the meadow but tryin’ ta drive it inta town for supplies adds at least another two or three hours ta the trip.” A slow smile crossed the gunslinger’s lips as he saw Wilmington’s eyes light up.

“Which explains the travois,” they stated simultaneously.

“Ya know Yosemite says there’s another snow comin’ in.”

“And?” Larabee urged.

“If ya wanna check on that family, we best do it while we can.”

“We?” The gunslinger arched an eyebrow, a teasing twinkle in his hazel eyes.

“Yes we.” Wilmington chuckled. “I had my ass ‘bout froze ta my saddle, followin’ the kid before, so I guess I got a right ta meet him and make sure he got home safe.”

“Besides he might have a sister who will fall prey to your animal magnetism.” Chris laughed finishing the last of his coffee and pushing to his feet. “Have JD meet us at the livery.”

“JD?”

“Kid said his parents don’t speak English. Reckon the sight of the sheriff’s badge might make them feel a little safer.”

*******

Following the healer’s instructions, Ezra applied the plaster and made Vin finish the cup of tea. Covering him with the blankets, the southerner settled on the edge of the bed and began reading aloud from the newspapers he’d purchased in Four Corners, attempting to pretend he wasn’t worried about the fever which continued to grip his brother.

Vin appeared to most enjoy the stories about the peacekeepers who protected the town and remarked maybe when he felt better they could ride into town and see them in person. Wanting to please his brother Ezra agreed but pointed out they could only observe them from afar because, they both knew, being law officers meant the men would be obligated to return them to the orphanage.

Tanner’s illness had grown steadily worse and while Mr. Jackson had been right about the plaster helping with the cough, the thin little boy couldn’t seem to shake the stubborn fever.

He had considered taking Vin to the healer but as if reading his mind Tanner had elicited a promise against the idea. The southerner knew Vin would hate him for breaking his word but he would do whatever was necessary to save his brother’s life.

When it was apparent Vin had finally succumbed to sleep Ezra set the paper aside slipping outside to care for Soldier.

Feeding the faithful animal, he took the bucket and made his way to the creek for water, his thoughts on Vin. Should he take the boy in to Four Corners? According to the papers and Mr. Jackson, himself, the healer worked with the peacekeepers. If he even suspected they were runaways he would be obligated to turn them over to the proper authorities. Eagle Bend was closer and might have a doctor but if so he might insist on speaking with the boys’ parents so that really wasn’t an option and Miller’s Creek didn’t have any type of medical person.

He finally decided he would make certain Vin ate a good dinner and continued to drink the healer’s tea. If the boy seemed to feel no better in the morning he would harden his heart against Vin’s pleas and take him to see Mr. Jackson.

Absently rubbing his leg, hoping to rid himself of the pain that had plagued him since cutting his thigh on a sharp rock, a few days earlier, he filled the trough and gave the old horse a pat, slowly making his way back to the cabin.

Damn, he was so tired. His leg throbbed and his head was beginning to pound. Maybe lying down for a few minutes would help his leg stop hurting. Adding wood to the stove, he crawled into the bed careful not to awaken Vin. Just a quick nap and then he’d start dinner.

*******

Remembering Chris’ statement about the people feeling safer knowing they were officers of the law, JD took the time to pin his Sheriff’s badge on the outside of his coat before dismounting.

“There’s a horse, if that’s what ya wanna call the sorry critter, in the lean-to but there’s no sign a’tall of a wagon.” Wilmington reported after checking the only outbuilding.

The men waited on the steps as Dunne lightly rapped on the door. Receiving no answer he knocked again before trying to see through what appeared to be burlap hanging over the cracked windowpane.

“Can’t see much but it don’t look like anyone’s movin’ around,” he told the two, keeping his voice low.

“It’s your call Pard.” Buck turned to Larabee, his tone letting Chris know they would back his play.

Keeping his drawn gun close to his side, the shootist, slowly opened the door, giving a soft call of warning as he stepped inside.

If he hadn’t had years of experience facing down surprises, Chris would have been unable to hide his shock by what he saw. The inside of the one room shack, which had been covered with layers of dirt and cobwebs the previous Spring, was now clean and neatly organized. Stacks of wood lined the wall near the old potbelly stove which battled the cold air, seeping in through the high cracks in the walls.

A small blue wool coat and thin tan jacket hung on the hook next to the door. A fair quantity of supplies filled the shelves, a chipped water pitcher and wash bowl sat neatly on a scarred wooden table next to the stove. Turned on their sides, their lids removed, stacked wooden crates made an impromptu cabinet containing dented metal dishes, cooking utensils and other needed household items.

A second stack of crates had been set up as a dresser holding clothes, towels and bedding. A sheet hung on a rope in the opposite corner from the stove, giving anyone using the old chamber pot some privacy. Everything in the room was placed at a child’s level if possible, including the cracked mirror on the wall and Chris silently noted there were no adult clothes among the neatly folded items.

“Guess we know what Inez was missing.” Buck grinned, lifting the almost full bottle of whiskey from a shelf to show the other men. His smile faded as he spotted the small figures in the bottom bunk. “Chris…”

Neither youngster moved as Larabee softly crossed the room and knelt beside the bunk. Except for their boots, the children were fully dressed for added warmth. The boy they’d followed from town slept with his back to the wall, one arm draped over the other child as if clutching a security blanket or offering comfort.

Chris’ gaze settled on the child closest to him and he quickly holstered his gun. Like a halo, light brown curls circled the angelic face and the gunfighter frowned seeing the unnatural flush in the child’s cheeks.

Chris lay the back of his hand lightly against the child’s cheeks. “Aww hell. JD get the blankets from our bedrolls.” The gunslinger ordered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Buck bring me those coats there.”

Searching about he discovered an old carpetbag under the bed, handing it to Dunne as the sheriff dropped the blankets on the floor near the stove. "Pack this. We need ta get this kid to Nate real quick.”

JD quickly shoved the few clothes into the bag as gently laying the boy’s arm aside, Chris lifted the too thin child onto his lap.

Ezra’s eyes flew open at the loss of his brother’s presence. Clawing under the pillow he pushed back against the wall behind him as his hand closed around the derringer. “Leave ‘im alone!”

His back pressed to the wall, Ezra raked his gaze over the three men easily discerning the black clad man cradling Vin as the leader, despite the lawman’s star worn by the younger man. “What do you want here?”

“Easy there son,” Buck held up his hands. “We ain’t here ta hurt ya.”

“I asked what you wanted here.” Ezra repeated, keeping himself positioned so all three men were in his line of sight although he concentrated on the leader. Even at his young age he knew this was a man others followed. A man they respected. A hard man, who didn’t bluff and rarely, if ever, backed down.

“I’m the sheriff of Four Corners. We met outside the general store when ya was there a while back. Remember?” JD questioned. He looked around the neatly kept cabin. “Where’s yer folks kid?”

Ezra didn’t hesitate with his answer. “My pa’s out hunting.”

From the corner of his eye, Chris saw the barely imperceptible shake of Buck’s head and knew instantly the only footprints the womanizer had found were most likely those of this boy.

Ezra raised the derringer, his determination to protect Vin overriding his fear and keeping his hand steady. “Now unless you have some business here, I suggest you put my brother back in bed and move on before Pa returns.”

Wilmington’s lips twitched as he fought to keep from smiling. The infamous gunfighter, Chris Larabee, facing off with a kid barely knee high to a grasshopper. It was a story that would bring laughs for years to come, although most people would find it hard to believe.

“Might as well put that peashooter away kid.” JD advised. “Ya could only shoot one of us before the other two was forced ta shoot you.”

Buck and Chris slowly turned to stare at the young sheriff, their mouths hanging open, their expressions incredulous, unable to believe he’d made such a ludicrous statement.

“Then I suggest you decide amongst yourselves which of you is going to die.” Ezra bravely repeated the words he’d once heard a gambler say when outnumbered by angry marks. His heart was racing, the blood pounding in his ears. These men could most likely kill him before he had a chance to pull the trigger but he wasn’t naïve. He knew there were men in the world that needed children to satisfy their perverse desires or found pleasure making others the target of their cruelty. Whether they were here to take the boys back to the orphanage, put them on a work farm or just use them for their own purposes, they weren’t going to take Vin without a fight.

Chris stared at the child holding the tiny gun, surprised by the spark of pride he felt, as well as the delight and surprise, in a small boy he’d never even spoken to. Pride at the defiance he saw in the boy’s large emerald eyes as the kid fought his own fears in an attempt to protect his family.

Buck pressed his lips tightly together choking back a laugh. JD appeared absolutely stunned either by the boy’s remark or by his audacity in holding them off at gunpoint and for the first time in years Larabee actually seemed at a loss as how to handle a situation.

Wilmington finally reacted. “JD close yer mouth before yer jaw freezes that way.” It was time to take control before someone got hurt. He slowly sat down on the edge of the bunk, getting a good look at the child, seeing the same things Larabee had. “It’s okay Pard, we ain’t gonna hurt you or your brother. We just wanna help.”

With the speed of a striking rattler, Buck grabbed Ezra’s wrist, forcing his arm upward. With his free hand the big man easily pulled the small weapon from the southerner’s grip.

“Promise ya ain’t gonna need ta use this on us.” The womanizer extended his open palm offering the little gun back to the boy. “My name’s Buck Wilmington. That’s Chris Larabee and he’s JD Dunne. You’re Ethan right?”

Without answering, Ezra snatched the gun, afraid the man might change his mind about returning it. He recognized the names from the paper. These men were some of the peacekeepers the territorial judge had hired to protect Four Corners.

Questions tumbled through the child’s mind. Had they found the dodger for the two runaways? Had he somehow made a mistake and led them to Vin? If they discovered the truth, the boys would soon be on their way back to Richardson.

“Your brother’s a pretty sick kid. We just wanna take ‘im ta see Nathan.” Chris assured the little southerner. “If ya got some paper around we’ll leave your folks a note, tellin’ ‘em where ta find ya.”

Placing the derringer in the pocket of his trousers, Ezra gathered his composure. Maude always said the secret to gaining the advantage was to keep your head and look for an opening. Perhaps he could at least salvage the situation. They would wait for the right time and as soon as Vin was well they would make good their escape.

Cautiously scooting past the man on the bed Ezra handed Larabee his wool coat, and the gloves he’d laid near the stove to dry.

“I’ll get Soldier ready,” he declared slipping into his boots and Vin’s coat.

“Soldier?”

“Our horse. We can’t leave ‘im here.” Ezra quickly searched for an excuse to have the animal with them in Four Corners. “Sometimes pa’s gone for a couple a days dependin’ on how far he has ta track game.”

“I’ll take care a ‘im.” JD volunteered. “Good horses deserve ta be treated special. Sure wouldn’t be right ta leave ‘im here without someone ta care for ‘im.”

Ezra watched silently as the two other men bundled Vin in their blankets to protect him from the weather. He automatically stepped away when Buck approached him.

“It’s okay little guy. Just wanna make sure yer good and warm too.” He smiled, stooping and wrapping the blanket around the boy. “Ya got my word, ain’t nobody here gonna hurt you or your brother.”

Dunne was waiting with the horses, Soldier’s rope halter tied to his own saddle horn and Ezra’s carpetbag strapped to the cantle when they exited the cabin.

Waiting until Larabee had settled in the saddle, Wilmington handed Vin to the gunslinger. Lifting Ezra up onto the big gray gelding, Buck mounted and draped another blanket around the boy before urging the horse toward town.

*******

Keeping his horse at a steady walk, Chris gazed down at the small, blanketed bundle in his arms. Even wearing the heavy wool coat and wrapped in layers of blankets the boy seemed to weigh nothing at all.

The gunslinger glanced over his shoulder to where Buck kept the feisty green-eyed youngster braced against his broad chest. The boy’s head lolled with each step of the huge gray horse and Larabee realized he must have once again surrendered to his exhaustion.

Chris’ thoughts turned to the questions whirling through his mind. What the hell were these two doing alone out in the middle of nowhere? Had they been abandoned by their family? Perhaps their parents had met with an accident preventing them from returning for the siblings. Were they runaways? No one had reported any missing children. Had the two of them really hoped to survive the long winter in the little line shack?

As difficult as those questions were he couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t noticed the child making his way to the general store? What if he hadn’t tried to follow the boy that day? What if Buck hadn’t remembered the old line shack or worse still what if he hadn’t listened to Buck? What if they’d been delayed making the ride out to the cabin by trouble in town or the weather.

What if….?

Chris suppressed a shiver at the thought of what they might have discovered come spring if he hadn’t let his curiosity get the better of him.

*******

Clutching the blanket still draped about his shoulders, Ezra stood beside the bed and intently watched as the healer examined his brother.

The long ride to Four Corners had been made in silence. The big lawman’s strong arms kept the blankets tucked tightly around Ezra and the boy had found his body surrendering to exhaustion as the gentle sway of the horse beneath him rocked him to sleep.

“He doesn’t sound too congested.” The dark skinned man, gave the little southerner a quick smile. “Looks like that plaster’s doin’ its job. He been drinkin’ that tea?”

Ezra nodded solemnly. He’d followed the healer’s instructions explicitly.

“He ain’t woke up at all Nate.” Larabee stated, his worried gaze never leaving the little boy on the bed. “Ain’t made so much as a peep.”

“It’s the tea Chris. It’s good for fever and helps a body sleep. Right now rest is the best thing for him. I’d say he’ll be feelin’ like his ol’ self in a day or so.” Jackson tucked the covers about the little boy and turned his attention to the other child.

“Thank you, sir,” the little southerner stated sincerely, the first words he’d uttered since leaving the line shack.

Startled as the door opened and a gray-haired man who appeared to be the size of a grizzly entered, Ezra’s hand slipped into his pocket clutching the small weapon ready to defend Vin and himself.

“Welcome home brothers,” the man boomed out before spying the sleeping child on the bed. He lowered his deep voice. “Was gettin’ a mite worried. Thought ya were gonna get caught out in the comin' storm.” He set two large covered wicker baskets on the table.

“Well ya gotta admit, snowball fights are a lot better than gunfights.” Buck chuckled. “And JD here makes a damn good target.”

“You make a better one. A lot bigger and a heckuva lot slower.” The sheriff ducked the womanizer’s playful swat at his hat. “See what I mean?”

Noticing the little boy’s tense posture and pale complexion, Buck squatted beside the child who stared wide-eyed at the ex-priest. “Remember what we told ya…Ain’t nobody here gonna hurt ya. That big fella there is Josiah Sanchez. He works with us.”

Sanchez smiled as the little boy sized him up, studying him intently as if trying to see into his very soul. To Josiah, the kid looked done in and as jumpy as a wheelbarrow full of frogs. He watched as the boy’s emerald eyes drifted to the baskets when the aroma of their contents began to fill the air. “Reckoned you fellas might be hungry so I asked Inez to fix us up something. JD ya wanna give me a hand here?”

Dunne moved to help as the preacher began removing the dishes from one of the baskets.

“Inez is a right fine cook.” Nathan grinned giving the little boy a wink as his dark eyed gaze raked over the southerner, observing the pink flush of his cheeks and feverish shine in the emerald eyes. “How ‘bout ya let me check ya out Ethan, while the boys fix us up a couple of plates? I wanna make sure ya ain’t caught yer brother’s cold.” Jackson stopped his approach when Ezra backed away.

“We better all grab somethin’ ta eat first Nate.” Josiah suggested, sensing the boy needed some time and space. The five peacekeepers could be overwhelming at the best of times without adding worry to the mix. “Ya know how Buck is about Inez’s cookin’ and JD eats damn near as much he does.” l

“Keepin’ the women folk happy takes a lot of energy.” Wilmington chuckled. “And in JD’s defense…he is a growin’ boy.”

“I ain’t no boy Buck!”

“Ya ain’t growin’ neither.” The womanizer laughed. “Get over here and grab ya some grub Chris…Otherwise you can tell that hot tempered Mexican beauty what ya thought was wrong with her food.”

Catching Larabee’s gaze, Buck arched his eyebrows, giving a barely perceptible nod toward the southerner. ‘Lead by example Pard.’

When Chris reluctantly moved from the sleeping boy’s bedside and began filling a plate, Ezra cautiously moved to the table, slipping onto the bench near the end. Wanting him to feel safe, they didn’t crowd him, no one sitting too close as the men filled their own plates with beef, tortillas, beans and rice. Nathan constantly reminded them to keep their voices down, not wanting their easy banter to awaken his patient.

Ezra had to admit the men were right, the food was delicious but worry for Vin and contemplating how he was going to extricate the two of them from the lawmen’s clutches he found himself without much appetite. Ezra pushed the food around on his plate hoping to make it look as if he had eaten more than the few bites he’d forced down.

“Y’all done a good job fixin’ up that old place.” Buck complimented the boy. “I figured sure it woulda done blown away by now.”

Ezra nodded, accepting the compliment. “I take it you gentlemen knew the owners.”

“Ol’ Chris here owns it.”

Ezra’s heart skipped a beat, the color draining from his complexion. ‘Damnit! Of all the luck! On the run and the place I pick for us ta hide out for the winter belongs ta a lawman. Ya messed up again Ezra. Is it any wonder your mother never wants ya around?’

“I apologize sir,” he mumbled. “We didn’t mean ta trespass.” The boy’s whole body seemed ta slump. “Pa should be back soon. I’ll ride out and inform my family. We’ll be on our way as soon as Vin is feelin’ a mite better…if…if that’s alright with you Mr. Larabee…We don’t have much money but I’m sure my pa will be happy ta pay what he can for our use of your property.”

His eyes constantly darting to the boy in the bed, Larabee jumped when under the table Buck’s boot connected sharply with his ankle. With a fierce expression the womanizer jerked his head toward the little boy at the opposite end of the table, silently urging the gunslinger to say something.

“Excuse me, I need to use the facilities.” Before the Hoosier could respond Ezra rose, slipped into his coat and hurried out the door.

*******

“Damnit Larabee, talk to the kid.” Wilmington sighed in exasperation, keeping his voice low so as not to awaken the child sleeping a few feet away. “He’s probably terrified.”

“I would be too if I’d pulled a gun on Chris Larabee.” JD joked, his smile fading under Larabee’s glare while drawing chuckles from Josiah and Nathan. The sheriff nodded at his friends silently agreeing to tell them about the visit to the line shack later.

“Gotta give him credit for guts.” The healer commented.

“At least let him know ya ain’t pissed about ‘em usin’ that place.” Buck pressed his point. “Hell the kid probably thinks yer gonna throw their asses in jail.”

Buck was right. He should have said something immediately. He should have told the boys they weren’t in trouble; at least not for making use of the line shack.

All eyes turned to the bed and Larabee pushed to his feet at the sound of a small moan and the rustling of the bedcovers when Vin began to stir.

*******

On the balcony Ezra leaned against the wall and wiped at the tears rolling down his cheeks.

What had he done wrong? What mistake had he made to lead these men to them? It didn’t matter. He would figure it out later. Right now he had to find a new place for them to live. Someplace that would protect them from the elements and where they wouldn’t be so easily found.

He searched his mind, thinking of the paths he’d taken to and from the surrounding towns but could picture no unoccupied dwellings that would both protect them from the harsh winter weather and hide them from prying eyes.

‘I’m so sorry Vin. I don’t know what mistake I made but I’ll fix it. I’ll take care of it…somehow.’

Pushing away from the wall, the southerner, wiped away any traces of tears and entered the clinic.

*******

“Don’t!” Ezra dashed forward, bodily shoving the gunslinger aside as Larabee reached for the boy in the bed.

Buck clamped a hand over his mouth struggling not to laugh, Josiah and Nathan exchanged bemused expressions and JD froze, his eyes widening in horror as stooped beside the bed, Larabee tumbled sideways, his shoulder connecting with the wall.

“Don’t touch him!” Recognizing the beginnings of one of Vin’s nightmares, Ezra climbed onto the bed and taking a deep breath to calm himself, gently rubbed Vin’s arms making certain his position not only blocked Vin’s view of the room but the men’s view of his brother.

“Vin? Wake up Vin…It’s alright…Ain’t nothin’ gonna hurt ya….It’s just a bad dream…It’s time ta wake up now…Dinner’s ready.” He kept his voice soothing. “Come on Vin, I know ya gotta be hungry, I can hear your belly growlin’.”

As Tanner returned to wakefulness, he blinked owlishly at Ezra, his wide yawn giving way to a slow smile. “Mornin’. How come yer awake so early?”

“Because it’s late afternoon.” The southerner grinned, helping him sit up when the Texan began to cough. He gently rubbed the younger boy’s back until the spasm passed. “We had company while ya was sleepin’.”

“Ez?” Suddenly realizing they were no longer in the cabin, Tanner looked around the room in confusion.

“It’s alright. I’ll take care of everything.” Ezra whispered slipping an arm around the other boy’s shoulders.

Chris stepped forward passing Ezra a cup of water to ease Vin’s dry throat. “Is he alright?”

“You heard Mr. Jackson; he’s gonna be fine.” The southerner nodded, giving Vin a wink before turning to Larabee. “Just caught himself a cold helpin’ Pa with the trap lines.”

Seeing the ill child’s large azure eyes watching him over the rim of the cup, Larabee couldn’t help but smile. Stooping, he held out his hand. “My name’s Chris. How ya doin’?”

“It’s nice ta meet ya.” With a shy smile, Vin hesitantly shook the gunman’s extended hand.

Ezra watched covertly as the peacekeeper’s hard countenance seemed to melt away with Tanner’s smile, as if the little Texan had a magical influence on the gunslinger and an idea began to form in the small southerner’s mind. Perhaps he had discovered a solution to one of their problems. He just needed time to think.

“That big fella over there is Buck. That’s Nathan, Josiah and that’s JD.” Larabee was shocked by the fear that filled the blue eyes when the little boy stared at the easterner.

“It’s alright Vin…I promise.” Ezra whispered, tightening his hug when his friend began to tremble at the sight of the sheriff’s star.

“Bet yer hungry.” Chris smiled motioning for one of the men to make the boy a plate. “It ain’t yer ma’s cookin’ but it’s pretty dam-ah-darn good.”

“My mama’s dead.” Vin stated automatically. “But Ezra here’s a real good cook.”

“Who’s Ezra?” JD looked at the others bewildered. “I thought y’all said his name was Ethan.”

Ezra arms tightened even more when Vin’s trembling increased as he realized his mistake.

Needing to erase the fear and sadness and wanting to replace it with a smile, Chris leaned forward, his tone low and conspiratorial so only the two boys could hear him. “Ya know Ol’ Buck there…His real name is Herman but he don’t think that name fits so he just picked himself a different one.”

“But his ma gived him that name, didn’t she?” The boy protested.

“Yep she did.” Chris agreed. “Named him after her favorite uncle and it’s still his name. He just uses a…a nickname cause he likes it better. Fact is, it’s the same nickname his uncle used, cause he didn’t like his name either.”

Vin leaned around the gunslinger studying the mustached man for a long moment. “I think Buck’s a much better name too,” he whispered solemnly.

*******

“Them boys was out there by themselves Chris.” Wilmington kept his voice soft. The men had stepped out onto the balcony, giving the children some privacy while Ezra changed into the old shirt Nathan had provided as a nightshirt.

“Thought Eth-Ezra,” Nate corrected himself, “told ya their pa was out huntin’?”

“That’s what he said.” Larabee nodded, lighting a cheroot. “Of course he told you his name was Ethan and told both you and Mrs. Potter, his folks…which indicates a mother and father…didn’t speak English. And he just told us all, his brother caught a cold helpin’ his pa with the trap lines.”

“So what makes ya think any different?”

“Two cups, two bowls, two plates…” Buck ticked the items off on his fingers. “Just two of everything. How many men you know don’t take their horse when they go huntin’? Only tracks were those of that broken down piece a crow bait the youngun’ called Soldier. There wasn’t any tracks bigger than the boys' and I sure didn’t see any clothes that would fit a grown person. Don’t reckon you noticed but I’d bet my eye teeth Ol’ Chris saw that nothin’ in that shack was adult high.”

“Ya reckon their folks abandoned them out there.” JD’s dark eyes filled with sadness at the thought of the youngsters being left to fend for themselves. The young sheriff, whose own mother had shown him unconditional love, couldn’t accept the concept that any parent wouldn’t do everything necessary to keep their children safe.

The womanizer shrugged. “Wasn’t no sign anybody had been there for a while ‘cept them two little guys.”

“Runaways?” The preacher suggested.

“Reckon any answers are on the other side of that door.” Larabee crushed the thin cigar beneath his boot.

Dunne looked up when Buck laid a large hand on his young friend’s shoulder as Sanchez reached for the door handle. “Everybody watch what ya say in there. I think we done spooked ‘em enough for one day.”

*******

“Guess our answers are gonna have to wait for awhile.” Nathan shared a wide grin with the others.

Their expressions peaceful, the two little brothers slept snuggled together almost lost in the healer’s big bed.

*******

Larabee watched with a mix of fascination and anger as the small southerner struggled to drag the last box into the broken down shed behind the gunsmith’s shop.

Earlier unable to sleep, Chris had climbed from his bed in the boarding house, deciding he may as well relieve Buck at the jail.

As was his habit the gunslinger had momentarily stood in the shadows, his hard gaze raking over the quiet street. He hadn’t lived as long as he had by being careless. The night was cold but there was no wind and the clouds bringing the coming snow lined the distant horizon. The street fires had burned to mere embers but the full moon cast a bright light over the countryside.

As if drawn by some unknown force, Chris had been surprised to find himself walking toward the clinic instead of the jail. He knew Nathan would have sent for him if he was needed but Larabee needed to see the boys. There was an inexplicable desire in him to see for himself the children were safely tucked away in bed.

Slipping into the clinic, he’d let his eyes adjust to the near darkness. The wick of the table lamp had been turned down so low as to barely emit any light at all and soft snores came through the open door of the small room the healer used for a bedroom.

Glad he wasn’t wearing his spurs, Larabee had silently crossed to the bed, his gaze softening and a smile touching his lips as he’d lightly brushed the stray curls from Vin’s cheek, remembering the child’s light laughter at Buck and JD’s antics while he ate dinner. Like his brother Vin had said very little, both boys avoiding any further references to their family.

Chris had been surprised to find Vin’s blue eyes constantly seeking out his own and was more than a little pleased as he watched the trepidation give way to trust as if instinctively knowing the Hoosier only wanted to help. It wasn’t the same trust that lit up his face when he looked at his brother but, Larabee had reasoned, it was a beginning.

It was then Chris had realized there was only one small form in the large bed. The arm, its hand lost in the sleeve of the much too large shirt, no longer protectively encircled Vin. Ezra wasn’t in Nathan’s room and there was no sign of his clothes or coat.

Frowning, the gunslinger made his way to the livery and as he suspected, discovered the old sway back horse gone. Certain Ezra wouldn’t leave his brother, Larabee had saddled his own horse and headed out, just as certain he knew where he would find the missing child.

About an hour outside of town, Chris had spotted the little rider topping a rise, the weary horse dragging the travois. Dismounting Larabee had led his mount into the shadows and pulling his collar up against the snow that had begun to fall, he had waited until Ezra had ridden past him. Remounting, Chris followed behind close enough to protect the child if necessary but far enough away not to be spotted.

What the hell was the kid up to?’

Larabee watched as ducking beneath the wooden slats barring the door, Ezra dragged each of the three wooden crates containing their possessions into the old shed before unhitching the travois and placing it inside as well.

False dawn was pushing back the darkness when tucking an object under his coat to protect it from the heavily falling snow Ezra led the old animal back to the livery. The little boy quickly rubbed down the horse before changing back into the shirt Nathan had given him and gathering his snow dampened clothes limped back to the clinic.

By the time Chris had taken care of his own horse and peeked into the clinic the exhausted child was once again sleeping snuggled next to his brother.

*******

“Thank you Soldier. You’re a good friend.” Ezra whispered, hugging the old horse’s long skinny neck. “Rest up boy. We won’t be needin’ your services for a couple a days.”

His leg throbbing, he leaned heavily against the stall railing gathering his strength.

Ezra had awakened around midnight, his heart pounding as he attempted to shake off the last vestiges of the nightmare images. It had taken several moments before he could no longer feel Richardson’s hands gripping his arms, no longer smell the whiskey laced breath, see the malicious glint in the cold eyes or hear the harsh threatening words as the man described his impending punishment.

“Ez?” The small sleepy voice near his ear had startled him sending his heart racing again. “Ya okay?”

“Fine.” Ezra forced a smile, pulling the blankets up around his brother’s shoulders as Vin rolled on his side to face him.

“What are we gonna do Ez?”

“You’re gonna go back ta sleep and get well.”

“They’re gonna send us back ta the orphanage ain’t they?…They seem nice enough but…they’re lawmen…Maybe they’ll help get ya to yer Ma but I ain’t got nobody so…I’ll have to go back there.” Vin whispered dismally.

“Ya got me and I won’t let that happen.” The southerner vowed, pulling the smaller boy close.

“Might not be able to stop it, no matter how much ya want to.” A lone tear had slid down the little boy’s cheek at the thought of being separated from his brother.

Ezra had lay listening as Tanner’s breathing evened out when sleep finally reclaimed him. As much as the southerner wanted to, he hadn’t promised Vin the men wouldn’t send them back. He didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. Both boys had learned a long time ago that promises were just empty words which meant nothing. They were simply words designed to earn trust. How many times had Ezra heard someone make a promise only to disregard that sacred vow if it was in his or her own best interest?

He would do everything in his power to keep the vow he’d made to himself. He would do whatever was necessary to keep Vin safe.

Silently slipping from the bed, Ezra had stood waiting to be certain Vin wouldn’t awaken. Gathering his clothes, he eased the door closed behind him and hurried to the livery.

Riding Soldier to their former home had given him time to think and to plan.

He knew the lawmen hadn’t brought his story about the boys being alone because their father was hunting. They hadn’t outright called him a liar or even questioned him but Ezra had seen the disbelief in their eyes. However to their credit, the men had appeared more concerned about getting the boys cared for than discovering how they had come to be staying in the line shack. Of course that would change with Vin’s improving health.

As Soldier slowly ambled along, Ezra had tried to recall everything he’d read in the small town paper, what he’d heard on his visits to town and his own observations of the lawmen. He’d puzzled over the open friendship he saw between the five men. It was obvious to anyone who bothered to look they were a family. They teased each other, argued with each other, helped each other, worked together and watched over each other. They were what he always knew a family should be. He didn’t think they were all related by blood but they were a family just the same and he had wondered if they would make room for anyone else.

He’d thought about Mr. Larabee’s reaction to his brother and the trust he’d seen in Vin’s eyes when the boy talked with the gunslinger. Ezra mused, wondering if the lawman had ever thought about being a father? Had he ever thought about having a son to follow in his footsteps? A son to teach the things he’d learned in his life. A son to pass on his experience and his stories to. A son to hug, hold and laugh with…a son to comfort and who would offer comfort.

Ezra knew there had been an instant connection between the blue eyed boy and the gunslinger. Vin needed a father and somehow Ezra knew the Hoosier needed a son. With Larabee and the others, Vin would have the family he deserved, a family who would protect him. A family who would show him the love he needed and longed for.

Ezra just had to figure out how to make the gunslinger see how much Larabee and Vin needed each other.

In the meantime he knew they had to be ready to move on if necessary. Maude had always drilled into him the necessity of having a back up plan in case things went awry.

The little bit of money they had left from his Monte games was still in the bottom of the carpetbag and as of yet he hadn’t needed to sell any of Aunt Allison’s jewelry but he knew they needed their supplies close if they had to leave at a moment’s notice.

However, that wasn’t the only reason he had to go back to the shack. Vin’s harmonica and his family Bible had been left behind. The small musical instrument had belonged to Vin’s father and the music seemed to comfort Tanner when he was sad and upset as if it somehow brought the father he never knew close. The Bible had been his mother’s. She’d read to him from it, taught him her favorite passages and like most Bibles the worn book held their family history.

Those two items were the only possessions Vin had to keep his family close and Ezra knew he would be desolated if they were lost.

Reaching the shack Ezra had fastened the travois to Soldier and quickly packed three of the old crates with the items they could use on the trail tucking the main things he’d came for among the bedding before retrieving the sack of feed from the shed.

Guiding the horse next to the porch the southerner had used the rail to mount the large animal. With a sigh and sad shake of his head he had stared for a long moment at the home he and Vin had made together before finally turning Soldier back in the direction of Four Corners.

Once there, he secreted the crates and tended Soldier, then changed back into the large homespun shirt, Mr. Jackson had loaned him. Gathering up his folded clothes and giving the horse another pat Ezra hurried back to the clinic, unaware his actions had been witnessed.

*******

“Them boys are somethin’ else ain’t they?” Wilmington grinned, pouring himself a cup of coffee as he and Josiah joined Larabee at the jail.

Chris nodded, unable to prevent a small smile of appreciation. The men had spent most of the morning in the clinic with the two boys, learning absolutely nothing except that Vin was a helluva checkers player and if a person were going to play poker with Ezra they’d better not sit down with more money than they could afford to lose.

In the three days since bringing the boys to town, each of the peacekeepers had found themselves falling under the children’s spell.

Larabee’s smile widened as he thought of Vin’s easy laughter when the gunslinger had groused about losing two checker games in a row. The men had been stunned and captivated by the little southerner’s impish dimpled grin at his brother’s laughter, realizing it was the first time they’d really seen Ezra smile.

Nathan’s stern lecture against teaching the boys to gamble had fallen by the wayside when Ezra had raked in Buck, JD and Josiah’s money, quickly dealing another hand of Five Card Draw.

The Hoosier had felt Ezra’s emerald gaze on him, scrutinizing his actions as the man talked with Vin, reading to the boy from a book on Nathan’s shelf and urging him to drink the healer’s tea.

A sense of peace Chris hadn’t felt in a long time had flowed through him as, seeing Vin’s stifled yawn, he’d held the little boy until he’d fallen asleep.

“Is it my imagination or did those two find out more about us than we did about them?” The womanizer tilted his chair onto its back legs and propped his feet up on the corner of the desk.

The men hadn’t failed to notice, every time the subject of their family had been brought up, Vin had fallen silent, letting Ezra handle the question before the little southerner easily redirected the conversation to more neutral territory, usually drawing the men into talking about themselves.

“So what do we know about them?” The preacher questioned.

Chris hesitantly pulled the folded paper from his coat pocket and tossed it on the desk watching as his men exchanged bewildered glances. It was a long moment before Buck finally dropped his feet to the floor and reached for the missive.

“Well I’ll be damned!” Sanchez sighed when the jovial gunman solemnly passed him the dodger. “Shit this came in a couple months ago. I’d forgot all about it.”

“Now hold on a minute,” the womanizer protested. “We don’t know this is them. We’re a damn far piece from the territorial orphanage.”

“Ezra and Vin aren’t exactly common names Buck.” Chris pointed out.

“Fine so they ain’t common names. That’s still a helluva long way for two boys their age ta travel alone through some damn dangerous country.” Wilmington argued. “Ya saw that cabin Chris. Them kids are smart as hell but where would two orphans get the money ta pay for the supplies they been buyin’?”

“Three Card Monte.” Josiah suddenly stated drawing the attention of both men. “I knew I’d seen him before. When I was in Eagle Bend a couple of weeks ago…Ezra had a Three Card Monte game set up outside one of the saloons.”

“But accordin’ ta that paper, Ezra’s ma was comin’ for him so what reason would he have ta run away?” Wilmington argued.

“You’re talkin’ about a kid Buck. Most times logic doesn’t play a part in their thinkin’.” Chris sighed receiving a nod of agreement from Josiah.

“Bullshit! Either one of ya been payin’ attention ta that kid?” Buck’s gaze traveled between his two friends. “I know you ain’t Larabee. Ya been too wrapped up with his bro-with Vin-but if ya’d been listenin’ it’s like talkin’ ta a miniature adult.”

“Of course everything he’s told us has been a lie…His name, his father out hunting…Even Vin being his brother. ”

“You don’t know that for sure Chris.” Buck angrily slammed a fist on the desk. “Ya haven’t talked ta the kid enough ta give him a chance ta explain anything.”

“Well if his pa didn’t have any luck on the hunt, he’s gonna be awful damn hungry cause the kid done cleaned out the line shack.” Larabee sneered, fighting his own building anger. He didn’t tell them where the supplies were hidden or that he’d talked to the gunsmith, giving him two dollars for use of the shed. “I watched him stash their supplies where he could get to ‘em easy. Only reason he’d do that is if he’s preparin’ ta run.”

“Or he’s afraid you’ll kick his family out on their asses without anything.” Taking a calming breath, the womanizer met his friend’s own angry gaze. “I know you Chris but he don’t…I know how ya feel…I saw your face when we lost Ezra’s tracks that day. I saw your face when ya saw Vin was so sick. I also saw the pride on your face when Ezra pulled that gun to protect his brother. Since than-“

“Buck, go wire the orphanage-“ Larabee interrupted.

“Damnit Chris-“

“Don’t say nothin’ about these two,” The gunslinger held up a hand stopping his best friend’s objection. “Just see if them boys have been found.”

“And if they haven’t?” Buck pressed.

“Then we’ll decide how to proceed. Which way you headed?” The Hoosier attempted to put an end to the argument by questioning the preacher, as finishing his coffee Sanchez shrugged into his coat, preparing for patrol.

“Gonna ride out by Nettie’s. Make sure her and Casey’s alright.”

“Might wanna check on the Howards while your out that way but don’t go any farther.” The weather was unpredictable this time of year and the shootist didn’t want any of his men getting caught in an unexpected storm.

“Chris-“

“We’ll figure it out when we got some answers Buck.” Larabee forced a smile when Wilmington hesitated in the doorway.

“It’s to late ta worry about getting attached Chris.” Wilmington softly declared. “Ya already are.”

*******

Standing at the clinic window, absently shuffling his playing cards from one hand to the other, Ezra’s shoulders slumped as he watched Buck leave the jail and make his way to the telegraph office.

‘They know.’

He glanced at Vin who was sleeping peacefully under the effects of Nathan’s tea. The nightmares, which haunted his brother’s sleep, seemed kept at bay, never rising until the effects of the medicinal drink began to wan. The fever had passed and the cough was almost non-existent but the healer had given Vin the tea as a precaution, explaining that the more he rested the quicker he would completely rid himself of the cold.

Nathan sat at the table concentrating on the used medical book he’d purchased in Eagle Bend.

Ezra massaged his leg, trying to rub away the pain he couldn’t wish away. He felt like death warmed over but so far he had managed to avoid the healer’s attentions, afraid of what might happen to Tanner while he, himself, was under the influence of Jackson’s administrations.

He had hoped for more time. Time for the gunslinger to become attached to his brother. Time for Larabee to discover just what a treasure Vin truly was. Time for Larabee to perhaps like him too…maybe just a little…just enough to be willing to let Ezra stay with Vin.

It didn’t matter now, time had run out.

‘Sleep well little brother’.

With a sigh of resignation, knowing he could no longer put off the inevitable, the southerner picked up the tan jacket and slipped out the door.

*******

Larabee sat staring at the dodger, searching for answers to his questions as well as the ones Buck had posed. Was it possible the two little boys truly had traveled so far on their own? What had really happened to Vin’s family? How long had the little boy been on his own? How could anyone have looked at that shy smile and not immediately taken the sweet child home with them? Why wouldn’t Ezra have waited for his mother to retrieve him and what had possessed him to take Vin along with him when he ran away? Where had he learned to play poker like an expert and make money at Three-Card Monte? For that matter, what the hell was Ezra doing in an orphanage in the first place?

Chris frowned, rubbing the back of his neck as what Buck had said earlier came to mind. He hadn’t been avoiding Ezra. Had he? It was just that Vin had needed him yet somehow it was more than that. There had been an instant connection with the blue-eyed imp. Maybe it was the fact that Ezra had been able to hold his own but Vin had been sick, helpless and vulnerable. He had awakened confused by the changes and frightened of the men who had brought about those changes and Chris had felt an overpowering need to wipe away that fear and confusion.

Ezra hadn’t needed him. Had he?

Damn Buck! Damn Josiah, Nathan and JD. Damn the judge and the whole damn town! Before he’d come here, before he’d hooked back up with Buck and been talked into taking this damn job the only thing Chris had cared about was drowning in a whiskey bottle and avenging the deaths of his wife and son.

His only desire had been to send the people responsible for his family’s demise straight to hell. He had prayed someone would take advantage of his drunken state, to call him out, ending a life that had no meaning without his wife and son.

Damn Buck! No matter how hard Larabee had pushed him away, or how bad he treated him, Wilmington had stuck by his best friend like a tick on a dog. Buck had put him to bed when he was too drunk to stand up, held his head while his body tried to rid itself of the liquor and watched his back while Chris prayed someone would end his misery with a well placed bullet.

Larabee hadn’t feared death; rather he had welcomed it, searched for it, sought it out at every opportunity. His life had lost meaning with the deaths of his wife and son. Yet Buck had refused to let the grim reaper claim him. He had refused to allow Chris the peace he believed death would bring.

No matter where Chris ended up Wilmington always showed up, sometimes arriving in some nowhere piss ant town ahead of Larabee. The gunslinger had finally come to realize that short of killing the womanizer, he wasn’t going to lose the man’s friendship and while he himself may win the battle, Buck was truly determined to win the war.

It had been Buck who had kept him from falling off that precipice into a bottomless pit of guilt, anger, sorrow and self-loathing. The gunman had hung on to Larabee’s duster until the gunslinger was able to pull himself back over the edge, finally gaining some control over his life once again.

Damnit it all! He hadn’t wanted to be needed! He hadn’t wanted anyone to depend on him. Chris had promised himself he’d never again feel the pain of losing someone he cared about. He’d never again have to face the guilt of letting down someone who had depended on him. He’d been determined not to care about anything or anyone!

Little by little, Buck and the others had whittled away that vow. Without his even realizing it, they worked to bring him back to life, making him feel again. In the men who watched over this corner of the territory Larabee had found friendships and loyalty almost as strong as Wilmington’s and he found himself caring about them, depending on them and needing their companionship. With his walls chipped and broken, other people in this dusty little town had slipped unbidden through those cracks…Mary Travis and her son Billy, The Potters, Nettie and Casey Wells and a few others.

Damn Buck! Damn his friend for being so observant! Damn him for knowing Chris so well! Damn him for not being afraid to stand up to the gunslinger and tell him the truth! Damn him for caring so much!

With that curse was the overwhelming thought: Thank God Buck cared so much!

Chris’ hand automatically dropped to his gun, returning to the desk when one of the subjects which had started his musings stepped into the jail.

Ezra remained standing just inside the door, his gaze darting about the room as if looking for any possible danger.

“What’s wrong Ezra? Is something the matter with Vin?”

“No sir. He’s still sleeping.”

Chris waited as the boy silently continued to remain next to the door. There had been a hint of dejection in the boy’s soft answer. Damnit he’d done it again. He had automatically asked about Vin as if Ezra himself didn’t matter.

Ezra hadn’t needed him. Had he?

Suddenly more unsure of himself than he would ever care to admit, the gunslinger studied the little boy. Dark circles enhanced Ezra’s enormous emerald eyes, evidence not only of his late night excursion to the cabin but Chris knew, ready to comfort his brother, Ezra came instantly awake each time Vin made the slightest sound in the night. Cheeks flushed from the cold air seemed pinker against the boy’s pale complexion and a small movement of the coat material, indicated his hands buried deep in the pockets were clenching and unclenching.

Ethan/Ezra was a walking enigma. A little boy who wore an old hide coat like it was finest thing ever created and carried himself with the bearing of royalty. A kid who seemed out of his element in the harsh landscape but had survived traveling through some of the roughest country west of the Mississippi. A reserved child who appeared able to charm everyone he met yet whose rare smiles were shared only with his brother.

“I’m glad you came by Ezra. I think we need to have a talk.” Realizing the polite child was waiting for permission to stay, Larabee rose and laying a gentle hand on the southerner’s shoulder led Ezra to the chair Buck had earlier vacated. He couldn’t help but notice the child’s limp had become more pronounced.

The gunslinger watched the last of the color drain from the boy’s complexion when his emerald gaze came to rest on the paper lying on the desk.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Just straightenin’ up a bit.” Chris shrugged, casually settling back into his own chair.

Needing to visit the outhouse, after sending the wire, Wilmington entered the jail through the back door. Hearing the voices he eased the door closed and stood out of sight, blatantly eavesdropping.

Ezra raked his fingers through his collar length hair; nervously attempting to straighten the waves into some semblance of order before smoothing at imagined wrinkles in the old jacket. “I…I wanted to see if you had decided how much we owe you for the use of your property.”

It wasn’t what Chris had expected to hear. “Ya don’t need ta pay…”

“We aren’t charity cases!” Ezra interrupted defiantly, anger flashing in the emerald eyes. “We’re doin’ just fine on our own!”

Buck bit back a laugh, imagining Larabee’s expression at the independence ringing through Ezra’s simple declaration.

“Didn’t mean to insult ya. Seems ta me the two of you have been doin’ a damn fine job.” Larabee agreed. “I just meant the repairs ya did are payment enough.”

“The two of us?”

Chris nodded again. “The two of you.”

“As I informed you-“

“I know what ya told us Ezra.” Chris nodded. “I know what ya told Mrs. Potter. I know what ya told Nathan and I know what this says.” He lightly tapped the dodger before sliding it across the desktop toward the little boy.

Ezra felt a sense of pride at the steadiness of his hand as he lifted the dodger surprised by how heavy the thin piece of paper felt. Certain what it said, he carefully read each word, buying time. He read their names and descriptions, the fact that Vin had no known family and Ezra was only a resident until his mother returned. He almost burst into laughter at the statement Richardson feared they might have been kidnapped as both boys had seemed happy and had no reason to run away.

“That’s you two isn’t it?” Chris questioned softly.

Buck felt his heart beat a touch faster as he awaited the little southerner’s reply.

“And if I said yes?” Ezra queried evasively.

“Pardon?”

The southerner almost smiled at the gunslinger’s apparent confusion. "If I said yes; we were the boys who’d run away from the orphanage, what would you do?” The southerner questioned, speaking very distinctly. The child held his breath, truly wanting to know Larabee’s answer.

Larabee leaned back in the chair surprised to discover he really didn’t have an answer. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. What could he say? That they would send them back? That they would see the boys got to where they were headed? That they could stay in the line shack? That they would find a family to take them in?

What did Ezra expect him to say? What did Ezra want him to say?

He decided on the easy out. “I guess that would be up to Judge Travis. Why’d you run away?”

Ezra evaded the question with one of his own. “What kind of a man is the judge?”

“Honest.”

Ezra barely kept himself from snorting with disdain. ‘I thought you were a smart man Mr. Larabee. Don’t ya know there is no such thing as an honest judge?’ Evidently Larabee’s mother had never explained to him the sad but true fact that the right amount of money could buy the desired verdict.

“Why’d ya run away?” Chris repeated, not to be side tracked.

“Does he live here?” Again Ezra ignored his question.

“No. But his daughter-in-law owns the newspaper. He comes through pretty often.” Chris was determined to get some answers of his own. “Why did you run away?” He repeated yet again, a little more forcefully.

“I never said we were the boys on that paper.”

“You said-“

“I asked what you would do if we were those boys. My question was purely hypothetical,” the southerner pointed out.

“So why’d ya run away?” Larabee asked once more, impatience creeping into his tone.

“If we were those boys, the why wouldn’t be important.” Ezra stated, evading the question once again.

“Then what would be?”

His hands clasped tightly in his lap, the little boy said nothing, his expression turning introspective as he appeared to search for his own answers.

‘Damnit Chris, reassure the kid everything will be alright.’ Wilmington mentally pleaded. ‘Tell him we’ll figure out something.’

Ezra mentally chided. ‘Don’t be selfish! Do what’s best for him.’

Chris waited, watching in amazement at the transformation in the small boy when as if suddenly making a decision, the nervous fidgeting ceased and squaring his shoulders, Ezra confidently met his eyes.

“What is important is that if we were those two boys…I would not allow Vin to be returned to that place. Therefore, I have a proposition for you Mr. Larabee.” Taking a deep breath, Ezra plunged ahead before his courage faded. “I will purchase a ticket on the next stage to the orphanage…if you will keep Vin with you and give him a home.”

Stunned, Larabee stared at the nine-year-old as if he’d suddenly sprouted wings and flown around the room. Chris knew his mouth was moving but no words made it past his lips.

“He’s the best kid you’ll ever know. He’s honorable, loyal, respectful and honest to the core.” The little southerner rushed on extolling Tanner’s qualities, hoping to convince the gunslinger to see things his way. “He’s extremely intelligent, even though he doesn’t think so. He knows all about livin’ in the woods and he’s a hard worker so he’ll be able to help you about your ranch.”

In the back room, the eavesdropping womanizer’s heart broke at the sadness and hope in the little boy’s voice as he pleaded his case.

As if preparing himself for a showdown in the street, Chris used every ounce of his will power to slow his racing heart, pushing aside all emotion. When he was finally able to speak he voiced the first question that came to mind. “Why me?”

“Because Vin trusts you.”

“Ezra-“

As if anticipating the shootist’s argument, the southerner interrupted. “I know you have a dangerous job and it would be easier to say yes if you had a wife who could look after Vin while you were on duty but I’m sure your friends would be willing to help out. They like Vin. You like Vin! I’m certain you could persuade the judge to agree.” Ezra blinked back the tears that filled his eyes at the thought of leaving his brother. ‘I can’t be selfish.’ “He needs someone to take care of him. He deserves a home Mr. Larabee.” ‘He deserves the best.’

“I know how expensive raising a child can be.” Hadn’t his mother told him enough times how much it cost to care for him?’ “I’ll help. I’ll send money…as much and as often as I can…I’m not asking you to love him.” In time the gunslinger wouldn’t be able to help but love Vin. “Just be kind to him, make sure he gets an education…and don’t force him to cut his hair. His mother used to say his hair was just like his father’s. I don’t know if you’ve ever considered being a father, Mr. Larabee, but I can promise you Vin would be the best son you could wish for.”

Wilmington’s heart skipped a beat at the statement and fearing Chris’ reaction, decided it was time to make his presence known. Wiping at his own tear filled eyes, the womanizer opened and then loudly closed the back door, calling out. “It’s just me Stud!”

In the front room of the jail, both occupants jumped at the noise. His leg refused to hold him when Ezra leaped from the chair prepared to escape. His outcry at the pain shooting through his body was cut short as blackness engulfed him and he felt himself falling into darkness.

*******

“Nathan!”

The healer looked up as Wilmington burst through the clinic door.

Remembering the child already in the clinic’s bed, Buck lowered his voice. “Somethin’s wrong with Ezra. Chris is bringin’ him up.”

With Buck’s help, the healer quickly cleared and spread a sheet on the table, finishing as Larabee stepped through the door carrying the small limp form in his arms.

“What happened?” Jackson gently placed a pillow under the little gambler’s head as Chris lowered him to the table.

“Ain’t sure.” Larabee explained the circumstances as they quickly removed the boy’s clothing. The anger, which had surged through Chris at the assumption anyone could replace or have been a better son than Adam had vanished with Ezra’s cry of pain as he crumpled to the floor.

“Damn! What the hell did he do to his leg?” Nathan exhaled, shaking his head as he carefully removed the soiled cloth he’d found wrapped around the child’s thigh.

“Slipped in the snow and cut it on a rock.” The small scared voice drew everyone’s attention to the patient in the bed. “Ezra?…Ez?” Throwing aside the covers and climbing from the bed, Vin’s calls for his brother became more frantic when the southerner didn’t answer.

“It’s alright Vin.” Chris reassured him. Intercepting the youngster before Tanner could reach the table, Larabee scooped the little boy up into his arms. Thin arms crept around his neck and the child’s struggles to reach his brother slowed with Larabee’s soft murmurs while he rubbed soothing circles on Vin’s back.

“Buck start me some water boilin’.” Jackson whispered before raising his voice to a normal level. “Chris why don’t you take Vin on over to the boardin’ house for some of Mrs. O’Riley’s peach pie while I fix up this little cut on Ezra’s leg.”

“No! I wanna stay with Ezra! What’s wrong with Ez?” Pulling back, Vin turned frightened eyes to the gunslinger as Larabee settled him on the side of the bed to help him with his boots. “Chris, what’s the matter with Ezra? How come he ain’t movin’? Why didn’t he wake up when I called him? Is he d-d-dead?”

“No! He’s just sleepin’-.”

“Why ain’t he wakin’ up? He always wakes up when-“

“Vin listen ta me.” Nathan stooped down in front of the boy. “The cut on Ezra’s leg got infected and it’s made him very sick so I have to make a poultice that will hopefully take away the bad germs so his leg can heal.”

“You can make him well Mr. Nate. I know you can! Ezra said the medicine you gived ‘im is what made me well. It tasted yucky but it took away my cold.” His chin quivered and tears rolled down his cheeks as Vin pleaded with the healer to help his brother. “You’ll make ‘im all better won’t ya?”

Nathan looked to Larabee mutely begging for help. He didn’t believe in lying to children and as much as he wanted to he couldn’t bring himself to promise that Ezra would survive the severe infection.

“Nathan’s gonna do everything he can ta help Ezra get well.” Chris stated confidently pulling the wool coat from the hook by the door. “Buck’ll come get us when Nate’s done so put your coat on and let’s go get some of that pie.”

“That’s Ezra’s coat. He said wearin’ mine wouldn’t draw undue attention when he come ta town but really it was coz I was sick and his coat’s warmer than mine.” Vin stated wisely, his eyes drifting to the table where Wilmington stood gently wiping the sweat from Ezra’s face. “I wanna stay with Ezra. Please! I won’t get in the way I promise but I gotta stay here. I gotta stay with Ez. He’ll be scared iffen I ain’t here.”

“Why don’t we wait in Nathan’s room? Then we’ll be right here when Ez wakes up but we won’t be in the way.” Larabee finally suggested, surrendering to his own desire to be there for the small southerner.

Vin nodded, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes as the Hoosier settled him on his hip. Craning his neck the Texan kept his eyes on Ezra until Chris closed the bedroom door.

********

Leaning against Chris’ chest, his head resting on the gunslinger’s shoulder, Vin’s eyes never left the closed door. The soft notes he created with his mouth organ expressing his fear sounded almost mournful.

Larabee had quickly realized the harmonica was Vin’s security blanket. JD had been positive the items, Ezra had produced for his brother, weren’t in the carpetbag when he’d packed it and Chris had to wonder if the supplies had only been an after thought rather than the reason for Ezra’s midnight trip to the cabin.

Needing something to occupy the worried child, Chris lifted the book laying on the nightstand, glad to see it wasn’t one of the healer’s medical journals. “How ‘bout we do some readin’ while we’re waitin’ for Nathan ta finish up?”

“Is that book ‘bout cowboys?”

“No it’s about a little boy who lives in England.”

“Where’s that?”

“It’s a country on the other side of the ocean. The first people who settled in America were from England.”

“The Indians are from England?” Vin quizzed.

“No.” Larabee chuckled. “I meant the first white men. I reckon the Indians have always been here.”

“This book is ‘bout an orphan?” The boy questioned after Chris had read several pages.

“Sure looks that way.”

“Why would anybody write a story ‘bout an orphan?”

“Seems ta me that orphans can be mighty interestin’ people.” Chris grinned. Continuing to read, the gunslinger was happy to see a small smile grace the boy’s lips as he considered the man’s statement.

“He’s gonna be okay ain’t he Chris?” The little Texan questioned when Chris was well into the third chapter.

The Hoosier nodded. “If Nate has anything ta say about it, he will.”

“It’s my fault.”

Stunned, Chris set the book aside and tilted the little boy’s face up to look into his eyes. “What are you talkin’ about? Why would Ezra getting sick be your fault?”

“I didn’t fix it good enough.” Tears trickled down the little boy’s cheeks.

“Vin-“

“I cleaned it up and even poured some a the whiskey on it just like Grandpap always did.” Vin rushed on to explain. “But I guess I didn’t do a good ‘nough job.”

“It’s not your fault Vin. You did your best for Ezra. Ya looked after him real well.” Pulling the child into a hug, Larabee gently rocked back and forth just as he had when Adam had been upset. “Sometimes no matter how hard ya try ya can’t stop bad things from happenin’.”

“I hurt ‘im for nothin’ cause he got sick anyways.” The child’s tears fell harder.

“Ya didn’t hurt ‘im Vin ya-“

“Yes I did. He hollered real loud. He didn’t want to but it hurt real bad and he couldn’t help it. Just like when...” As if catching himself before he could say something he shouldn’t, Vin let the sentence trail away.

“Don’t blame ‘im.” Larabee nodded in agreement wondering what the boy had been about to say. He’d had whiskey poured on an open wound before. It was pure agony. “It sure ain’t a fun experience but ya did what was best. Sometimes a fella’s just gotta holler when he’s hurtin’ and that’s alright too.”

“Nuh uh. Cause then people just wanna hurt ya more.” The child mumbled, his eyes drifting closed with the rocking motion. “Is Mr. Nathan hurtin’ Ez?”

“Not if he can help it. Unfortunately, sometimes ya can’t help but cause someone pain when you’re tryin’ ta help them. It always makes Nate sad, just like it made you sad.”

“Lot’s a times he didn’t holler…says he didn’t…wanna give…’ol Richardson…the…the satisfaction.” The soft words faded away when sleep finally claimed the small boy.

His hand absently stroking Vin’s light brown curls, wishing he knew what was happening in the other room, the gunslinger’s worried gaze drifted to the door. “Seems ta me the two of you take real special care of each other.”

*******

Larabee eased himself from the bed and followed the healer when Nathan softly opened the door motioning for him.

He wasn’t surprised to discover Josiah and JD in the clinic. Since the boys’ arrival, the men just seemed to gravitate to the healer’s abode. Josiah stood stiffly at the window his back to the others as if trying to get his emotions under control. The sheriff sat on one end of the bench, his head down, looking as if he wanted to puke but it was Buck that surprised the gunslinger.

Gently holding Ezra in his lap, wiping at the sweat of fever which coated the unconscious little boy’s face, rage radiated off the gunman like heat waves off the desert floor.

“He gonna be okay Nate?”

“Most likely.” Nathan sighed wearily. Trickling some tea lightly laced with laudanum down Ezra’s throat, he’d spent the last three hours scrubbing the cut and using hot towels to help draw out the infection before applying the poultice. “Fever’s still awful high but it should come down if that poultice works. Thought ya oughta see this.”

Only Buck met his puzzled gaze as Jackson pulled the sheet down to Ezra’s waist leaning the thin child forward to reveal the faded remnants of several thin scars running the length of his back.

“What the hell!” Larabee reached out to lightly run his fingers over the puckered skin near the boy’s shoulder, his fingertips tracing what looked like an ornate cross.

“Nate says it’s a burn.” Wilmington growled. “Some sonuvabitch branded him.”

*******

Josiah gently laid the cool damp cloth across Ezra’s forehead glancing up as Buck continued to pace the width of the room in a vain effort to expel his fury.

His arms folded, his fingertips biting into the skin of his upper arms, his teeth clenched so tight it surprised the preacher they didn’t break into pieces, Larabee leaned against the wall next to the door.

In a futile attempt to avoid the memories aroused by the abuse, Nathan silently prepared another poultice.

JD sat staring at the tabletop, absently tracing a design on the scarred wood with his index finger.

“Ya think his folks did that ta ‘im?” It was the first words spoken in the room in two hours and the young sheriff didn’t sound much older than the boy in the bed.

No one answered, everyone considering what would happen if they ever met the perpetrator and silence once more fell over the clinic.

“Nate I think he’s comin’ around.” Josiah announced a few moments later as Ezra shifted, his face twisting in pain, a soft whimper escaping before finally forcing open his eyes.

“Easy Ezra,” the healer soothed. “Try not ta move your leg.”

Blinking owlishly, the boy stared in confusion at the men gathered around the bed.

“Vin’s alright Ezra. He’s asleep in Nate’s room.” Buck assured the child when fear filled the boy’s emerald eyes.

The little southerner leaned heavily against the healer as Nathan helped him sit up, holding a cup to his lips. “I need ya ta drink this Ezra. It’ll help ya get better,”

It took several minutes for the boy to force down the tea and Nathan settled him back against the pillow.

“Mr. L-Larabee?”

“Right here Ezra.” Chris answered as the boy’s eyes drifted closed.

“Do w-we have a…a d-deal?”

“Get some rest.” Larabee ordered fully aware of the four pairs of eyes staring intently at him. “We’ll discuss it when you’re feeling better.”

“V-Vin?”

“We’ll look after ‘im. He’ll be right here when ya wake up.”

Wilmington released a small sigh of relief at the shootist’s answer.

“I’s here Ez.” Tanner pushed his way past the men and climbed onto the bed, careful not to jostle Ezra. “I’ll be right here just like Mr. Chris said.”

Each of the men smiled when sighing, Ezra’s lips curved up slightly as murmuring reassurances Vin soothingly stroked his brother’s hair.

“His fever’s still awfully high.” Nathan stated, gently placing the back of his hand against the little southerner’s cheek when Ezra’s breathing evened out in sleep. “I’ll let ‘im get some more sleep afore I clean the cut again and change the poultice.”

“I’s sorry Ez.” Tears rolled down Tanner’s cheeks. “Real sorry. Shoulda done a better job.”

“It’s not your fault Vin.” The healer declared. Chris had told them of the guilt the child was feeling.

“Didn’t clean it good enough.”

“You did a right fine job Vin. If ya hadn’t taken care of it then he’d a gotten sick a whole lot sooner and he’d be a lot sicker than he is. You weren’t feelin’ too good your own self, remember?”

“But-“

“No buts about it Vin. Sometimes cuts get infected no matter how good ya clean ‘em. Now, ya don’t wanna get Ez upset do ya?”

“No sir!” Vin shook his head adamantly.

“Well I reckon he would be right upset if he thought ya was feelin’ guilty about somethin’ ya couldn’t prevent. So what say we just concentrate on helpin’ ‘im get well?” Nathan smiled lightly ruffling the boy’s hair when Vin nodded agreement.

“Don’t know about you fellas but I’m getting a mite hungry.” Josiah clapped a large hand on the young sheriff’s shoulder. “Let’s go see what the restaurant’s servin’ for dinner.”

Larabee caught JD’s arm pulling him close and bringing a grin to the easterner’s face at what he whispered in the young man’s ear.

*******

Chris leaned forward and gently wiped the sweat of fever from Ezra’s face, listening as the little boy mumbled deliriously.

“Shh it’s alright Ezra. You’re safe now.” He whispered, sinking back in the chair as the child briefly quieted.

Josiah and JD were sharing shifts at the jail, Buck slept at the table, his head lying on his folded arms and Nathan had finally agreed to catch a nap in his own bed.

Larabee glanced to where Vin slept on a pallet near the stove. The boy had insisted on staying near but stating Nathan needed his sleep if he was going to help Ezra and afraid of sleeping in the bed for fear of hurting his brother he had agreed to the use of Wilmington’s bedroll.

Vin had silently obeyed the gunslinger and eaten the stew and biscuit Josiah had returned with but for a single moment his eyes had lit up when Nathan cut him a large slice of the peach pie JD had retrieved from Mrs. O’Riley’s.

“Looks like someone loves pie almost as much as you Buck.” The preacher had teased as the boy took a large bite.

“I love peaches! Peach pie is the best.” The child’s grin faded and he guiltily set the fork aside.

“Bet Ezra loves peaches too doesn’t he?” JD questioned surprising the older men with his wisdom.

Vin nodded, his sad blue eyes darting to the sleeping figure in the bed.

“Well, I guess we better save ‘im a big ol’ piece then.” The sheriff winked. “Reckon he might feel like eatin’ it for breakfast.”

“Breakfast!” Nathan looked appalled causing the others to chuckle. The ex-slave’s expression softened, seeing Vin’s disappointment. “Well I wouldn’t recommend it all the time but I reckon everybody can do with pie for breakfast once in a while.”

Placing a large piece on a plate, Josiah passed it to Vin who with a lopsided smile crossed the room and carefully placed the pie on the table next to the bed. Each man felt a tug at their heartstrings as the little boy gave his brother’s hand a gentle squeeze before slowly returning to the table.

After dinner, Wilmington had taken the little Texan to the livery to care for Soldier giving the healer time to once again scrub the infected cut and change the poultice. The ex-slave continued to berate himself for the boy’s illness stating he may have been able to prevent the infection if he’d only insisted on checking the child. Instead he’d let Ezra avoid him and divert his attention elsewhere.

Vin had spent the rest of the evening beside his brother, stroking Ezra’s hair, wiping his face with a cool cloth and holding his hand until Larabee had finally insisted he get some sleep.

Chris tugged the covers around Ezra’s shoulders again as the child pushed them aside, the fever causing him to alternate between chills and being so hot he tried to rid himself of the blankets.

The gunslinger motioned for Nathan to return to his bed when the healer sleepily stepped into the doorway intending to check his patient. Quietly waking Wilmington he sent the womanizer to the boarding house, stating Buck needed decent sleep so he’d be alert for his morning patrol, assuring him he’d send for him if needed.

Larabee raked a hand through his hair. He’d been unsuccessful in assuaging the healer’s guilt…or his own. Damnit! Why hadn’t he paid more attention to the small southerner? Why hadn’t he spent more time talking to Ezra? Why hadn’t he discovered the reason for the limp? Why hadn’t he even asked Ezra about his injury? Like Nathan he’d let Ezra direct his attention to any thing other than himself. Moreover if Chris was going to be totally honest with himself, he’d been so caught up with Vin he hadn’t even bothered to try and push past Ezra’s defenses.

‘What the hell were ya doin’ in an orphanage Ezra? Where the hell’s yer folks? How did the two of you end up here?’

Too many questions and not enough answers.

To be honest Chris had been surprised and happy when Ezra had entered the jail that afternoon. He’d seen it as an opportunity to learn about the boys’ situation and possibly a chance to get to know the southerner a little better.

While Vin had been wary of them, he’d taken their actions at face value, yet Ezra seemed to scrutinize each movement, suspicious of every action, looking for the lie in every statement. The scars, evidence of the abuse the boy had suffered made it clear why, if at all possible, the child avoided human touch as much as possible.

Chris had seen the fear in the boy’s green eyes. Fear at seeing the dodger describing the two runaways from the orphanage. But it had been more than that. Fear of Chris’ reaction to his proposition? Fear of the gunslinger himself?

“I wouldn’t a hurt ya Ezra.” Chris whispered. “No matter what ya think. No matter what ya did I wouldn’t hurt ya. None of us would let anyone hurt ya.”

As it turned out Ezra had once again avoided the gunslinger’s questions and directed the conversation to center around Vin.

Larabee had heard a change in his young voice. He had heard the hope in his voice...Hope that Chris would be Vin’s savior. Hope that he had found someone who would protect and watch over the young Texan. Hope that the Hoosier would be the man who would give Vin a better life.

The gunman reached to replace the blankets once more, his hand stayed by the shock of seeing Ezra’s large emerald eyes watching him, silent tears rolling down the boy’s flushed cheeks.

“Hey little guy, your leg hurtin’?” Even as he spoke he castigated himself: ‘Stupid question Larabee. Of course he’s hurtin’.’

Unable to deny the obvious, Ezra nodded, his gaze darting around the darkened room.

“He’s sleeping over by the stove,” the Hoosier assured the child, immediately understanding what the boy was looking for. “He wanted to stay with you but was afraid he might hit your leg if he moved around in his sleep.”

Again Ezra nodded, chewing on his bottom lip but said nothing.

“Nathan made ya some tea ta help take away the pain.”

The child flinched unable to stifle the small gasp that escaped when Larabee slipped an arm under his shoulders lifting him into a sitting position and holding the cup to his lips.

“Th-thank you sir,” the southerner stated politely when Chris placed the empty cup back on the bedside table. “I’m sorry ta be a bother.”

“Ain’t no bother Ezra.” Sensing the little boy needed it and wanting to offer the same comfort he’d given Vin, Chris lifted the little boy, ignoring the tensing of Ezra’s muscles. Moving to the rocker, he settled Ezra on his lap and wrapped the quilt about him. “Ain’t no bother at all.”

Silently holding the small child, his fingers gently stroking the chestnut curls, Larabee felt the boy slowly begin to relax. A tiny smile lifted the corners of his lips as with a wistful sigh Ezra sleepily snuggled against the gunfighter’s chest as the tea and the movements of the chair ease him back into painless sleep.

Damnit, Buck was right! Chris was afraid of getting attached and it was too late. He was already attached, hook, line and heart.

He’d become attached the first time Vin had smiled at him. He’d become attached the minute Ezra had pulled that gun and demanded to know what the men wanted.

In a matter of just a few short days, two small boys had claimed his heart and he wasn’t certain how he was going to find the strength to let them go.

*******

Bidding Josiah goodnight, Wilmington hurried down the dark street, the click of his boot heels on the boardwalk the only sound as he passed businesses which had closed hours before. His shift at the jail had been spent wishing he were in Nathan’s small clinic.

For two days the men had watched over the boys, trying to comfort a frightened Vin as Ezra’s fever continued to see saw, sending the child into bouts of delirium. They had listened as he called for his mother or Vin and fought the demons awakened by his illness.

For two days, Larabee had held the child, rocking him, reassuring him, urging him to fight the illness. With Vin seated on the bed Chris had continued to read from the Charles Dickens novel and had kept Tanner occupied elsewhere while Nathan changed the poultice and cared for Ezra.

That morning Ezra’s fever had finally broken. Nathan had wearily announced the cut was clear of infection and was beginning to heal and Vin had joined the others in convincing Chris to get some sleep. As soon as Ezra had been settled Vin had climbed onto the bed and cuddled next to his brother telling him Larabee would be back soon and whispering comfortingly to the sleeping child.

Vin had remained by his brother’s side the entire day, leaving the bed only long enough to join the peacekeepers at the table for meals.

Buck slipped into the clinic to find Larabee once again ensconced in the rocking chair beside the bed, snoring softly, his arms wrapped protectively around the little Texan.

‘Should a known I’d find ‘im here.’ Buck’s hand dropped to the gun on his hip as the door was eased open, relaxing with the realization Nathan was the intruder. The two men exchanged embarrassed grins at having startled each other.

“Reckoned you’s in there catchin’ up on yer sleep.” Wilmington whispered.

“Tim Dawson went out ta investigate a noise in the barn…fell and busted his head.” Placing his bag against the wall, the healer motioned the womanizer back onto the balcony. “Needed a few stitches and got himself a mild concussion.” Nathan leaned against the railing and taking a deep breath of the cold clear air, rubbed at the tense muscles in the back of his neck.

“’Nother nightmare?” Buck questioned, his nod toward the door indicating the child cradled in Larabee’s lap.

The healer knew, like himself Wilmington hadn’t been able to shake the events of the previous night from his mind.

The clinic had been silent, Ezra’s fever was slowly beginning to release its grip letting the child get some much needed rest when Vin caught in the throes of a nightmare began whimpering in his sleep.

Chris, Nathan and Buck had all moved forward intending to comfort the child, but none of the three had been prepared for the boy’s reaction when Larabee, calling the child’s name, had reached out to comfort Tanner.

With a scream that could have awakened everyone in town, Vin had kicked and fought the man’s touch, finally freeing himself from the tangled blankets. With tears flowing freely down his cheeks, his back pressed to the wall, the boy had begged them not to hurt him, not to put him in there, to leave him alone.

As recognition of his surroundings replaced the last vestiges of sleep, the little boy had thrown himself into Larabee’s arms clinging to the gunslinger as if Chris was a lifeline that would keep him from drowning. It had seemed like hours before the ragged sobs subsided and sleep finally reclaimed the little boy.

“Not that I know of. That’s how they were when I left.” Nathan sighed. “Chris come back round ten or so. Him and Vin got Ezra ta eat some broth and then he read to the boys ‘till they all fell asleep. Damn good thing too cause Vin could barely keep his eyes open but I don’t think he woulda gone ta sleep unless Chris came back.” The ex-slave couldn’t hide his smile. “Course Chris is gonna be stiff as a board come mornin.’”

“Looks like you could use some sleep yerself Pard,” the womanizer stated, casting a worried gaze over his friend. “Why don’t you sack out? I’ll look after ‘em. See if maybe I can talk Chris inta getting some more sleep…in his own bed.”

“Ya plannin’ on walkin’ ‘im over there at gunpoint?” The healer chuckled, thinking he’d miss a few minutes of sleep for that show.

*******

The aroma of coffee and hot biscuits had Nathan sleepily stumbling from his small room a few hours later. Buck stood at the stove preparing breakfast while the other three peacekeepers sat at the table talking softly so as not to awaken the boys.

Nodding in gratitude, Nathan accepted the cup of coffee Buck offered. As the womanizer handed him a plate of ham and eggs, Nathan jerked his chin toward Larabee. “I take it gunpoint didn’t work?”

“Figured it was easier ta settle for ‘im stretchin’ out on my bedroll.” The womanizer grinned, glancing to where Vin was still curled in the blankets.

“Wise decision,” the medic acceded.

“Chris, can I ask ya a question?” The sheriff absently pushed at the last of the eggs on his plate as Wilmington took a seat beside him on the bench.

“Ya just did.” Sipping his coffee, the twinkle of amusement faded from Larabee’s eyes as he watched the youngest of their group. For all his enthusiasm and positive outlook at life, the naïve young man had a habit of taking everything his hero said to heart. “Just ask JD.”

“Just been wonderin’…”

“Am I suppose ta guess what ya’ve been wonderin’ about or are ya gonna tell me?” The gunslinger grinned when Dunne hesitated.

“What’d Ezra mean when he asked if ya had a deal?”

Wilmington watched, as Chris stared into his coffee cup, struggling with the decision to share what he thought was a private discussion between Ezra and himself.

Glancing at the children to be certain they still slept, the gunslinger took a deep breath and motioned for the men to follow him out onto the balcony not wanting to be overheard by the children.

Leaving the door slightly ajar so they could hear if the boys needed them, Larabee lit a cheroot as Nathan and JD quickly reviewed the dodger Chris pulled from his jacket pocket.

“Damn! Ya mean they ain’t even brothers?” The young easterner pushed the dark hair from his eyes, embarrassed he’d been taken in by the children. It was another lie Ezra had passed off as truth without even batting an eye.

“I remember seein’ this the day the stage driver left it but I didn’t give it too much thought.” Nathan shook his head in amazement. “Didn’t figure two little kids boys would get this far before they was found.” He carefully folded the paper and handed it back. “Are we sure it’s really them?”

Larabee nodded. “Yep.”

Buck shifted uncomfortably as his old friend turned his hazel gaze on him. “Accordin’ ta the wire we received, them two boys weren’t never found.” The womanizer had really hoped Chris had forgotten about the telegram, he’d ordered sent. With a heavy sigh, the unusually somber gunman unfolded a yellow paper he pulled from his pocket, and read aloud. “Boys still missng. Stop. Extremely concerned. Stop. Afraid they have come to harm. Stop. Any information appreciated. Stop. Simon Richardson.”

“But that don’t mean they’re the same boys.” JD protested just as Buck had a few days earlier.

“Ezra as good as admitted it.” Larabee sighed, his breath visible in the crisp morning air as he listed everything they’d discovered about the two little boys who had claimed a large chunk of each man’s heart. “Shoulda heard ‘im tellin’ me what a good kid Vin is…”

“So what was the deal?” JD persisted, using the toe of his boot to scuff at the inch of snow covering the landing…They all knew Vin was a terrific kid.

“Ezra said he’ll go back to the orphanage-“

“No!’ Vin rushed onto the balcony wrapping his arms around the gunslinger’s leg. “Please Mr. Larabee…don’t send ‘im back there! Please! Ya can’t do that! He’ll kill ‘im! Please Chris!”

Tossing the thin cigar into the street, Larabee scooped the child into his arms, hugging the trembling little boy to his chest as Vin continued to tearfully plead with him not to send his brother away.

The other men followed, crowding into Nathan’s small bedroom as Chris moved into the clinic and sank onto the bed, adjusting the little boy in his lap.

Josiah pulled a pair of wool socks from the carpetbag absently noting how thin and worn the material seemed, as Nathan vigorously dried the hysterical youngster’s bare feet.

Laying one of the blankets from the bedroll over the thin little boy, JD stepped as far away as the room would allow, not wanting to upset the child any further. For reasons Dunne didn’t understand the boy didn’t seem to like him, often falling silent, fear filling his eyes if the sheriff drew too near.

“Wanna tell me what’s got ya so upset?” Chris gently questioned when Vin had finally calmed a bit, his tears turning to occasional hiccups.

“Yer gonna send Ez back ta the orphanage ain’t ya? I heared ya! I’ll be good! I’ll go back iffen ya want but please don’t make ‘im go! He’s got a Mama. She’s went on a trip cross the ocean somewhere but she’ll be back fer ‘im. She always comes back. He said so. Please don’t send ‘im back there! Please!” The words tumbled over each other like water from a dam that had burst.

Upon waking to find the clinic empty, Vin had followed the sound of the quiet voices stepping to the open door in time to have his heart crushed by Chris’ announcement that Ezra was returning to the orphanage. “You can take care a ‘im till his mama comes back! Ya don’t really gotta take care a ‘im though cause he knows how ta make money and take care a hisself. He just needs a place ta stay till his mama comes fer ‘im. Ya could let ‘im stay in the cabin. He worked real hard ta make it hab…habibal…”

“Habitable.” Josiah corrected.

“Yeah. That’s the word Ez used. Please Chris! He’s real smart and…”

“Vin, listen ta me.” Larabee interrupted.

“He can’t go back there Mr. Larabee! He can’t! Please…”

“Vin!” Chris barked sharply, causing everyone in the room to jump.

“I’s sorry.” The child’s chin dropped to his chest. “I didn’t mean ta be bad. I-”

The gunslinger gently tilted the boy’s head up to meet his eyes. “You weren’t bad Vin. I just think ya needed ta take a breath. I need ya ta listen ta me.” He smiled. “I never said we were going to send Ezra away.”

“But I heared ya say he was goin’ back ta the orphanage.”

Chris shook his head. “No ya didn’t. Ya only heard part of what I was sayin’. I was tellin’ the fellas about a talk me and Ez had before he got sick.” He understood the doubt he read in the tear bright blue eyes. As far as they knew, depending only on each other these two boys had traveled through dangerous territory in their flight from the orphanage so why would Ezra risk telling anyone about their escape? “He volunteered to go back if you could stay here.”

Stunned, Vin shook his head in denial, refusing to believe Ezra would willingly leave him behind. They had plans. Ezra wouldn’t…

“Chris wouldn’t lie ta ya Vin.” Wilmington stated firmly.

The little Texan released a sigh of acceptance. Ezra would have sacrificed himself to find Vin a home. He would have faced his worst fears for Vin just as Tanner would for Ezra. It hadn’t been an act of betrayal but rather one of love.

Leaning against the doorframe Buck cast a quick look into the other room, checking for any signs the little southerner needed them. “When we first met, we told Ezra we wanted ta help y’all and we still do.”

“We need ta ask ya some questions and ya need ta tell us the truth okay?” Larabee waited until the little boy managed to drag his frightened gaze from the tin star on JD’s vest back to the gunslinger’s hazel gaze. “There’s no reason to be afraid of us Vin. Nothing you say is gonna make us mad at you.”

“Yes sir.” Vin nodded.

He’s honorable, loyal, respectful and honest to the core. Ezra’s words rang in Larabee’s ears.

“We received information from the orphanage about two little boys who ran away. You and Ezra are those little boys aren’t you?”

Fear filled blue eyes once again darted to JD before swallowing the lump in his throat, Vin focused his gaze on the door and nodded.

“Why did ya run away?” Chris questioned quietly. Perhaps he could finally get an answer to the question Ezra had ignored as if it hadn’t been asked.

“We had to. That weren’t a good place ta be.”

Larabee felt the shiver race through the small body accompanying the soft words.

“Why not?”

Vin’s chin quivered and he dropped his teary gaze to the floor as he shrugged.

“How long were you at the orphanage?” Chris tried a different tact.

“A long time.” The little boy chewed on his bottom lip. “The Army man sent me there after Grandpap went ta be with the ancestors.”

Josiah’s head jerked up at the boy’s statement. ‘Went ta be with the ancestors.’ Where would the boy have heard such a thing? It wasn’t a statement a white man would make.

“I wanted ta stay with Gray Eagle but Cap’n Whittaker said it might cause ‘im trouble.”

“Who’s Gray Eagle?” Chris asked. With patient coaxing the child told them how the small tribe of Indians who lived in the mountains behind their cabin had helped him bury his grandfather when the man had passed away in his sleep.

“Grandpap said him and Gray Eagle had knowed each other for more years than either one of them would admit. He said they understanded each other. Gray Eagle used ta tell me stories ‘bout my ma when she was a little girl.” He shook his head sadly. “Grandpap wouldn’t never tell me nothin’ ‘bout her. He’d get riled iffen I even asked.”

Listening to the child it became evident it had been several weeks before a troop of soldiers patrolling the area had discovered the child being taken care of by the tribe. With no other living relatives, they had arranged for Vin to be taken to the territorial orphanage.

The men could hear the emotion in Vin’s voice as he talked and each of the lawmen could empathize with the child’s fear. In a short matter of time he’d lost his only relative and his home, then was taken from his friends and placed in an overcrowded institution surrounded by strangers.

“That must a been awful scary.” Larabee commented, drawing nods of agreement from the others. ‘And lonely.’

Vin only shrugged.

“Was Ezra there when you got there?”

The boy shook his head. “Sheriff Ames bringed him at the beginnin’ a summer.”

Nathan interrupted stooping before the little boy and placing a hand to Vin’s forehead. “Vin can ya stand up for me? I wanna check and make sure you’re over your cold.” His expression telling Larabee, he’d explain later, the healer stood Vin on the bed and lifted the nightshirt, placing an ear to the boy’s chest. He turned Vin around and once more lifted the shirt, his eyes raking over the boy’s smooth back, his breath catching in his throat as his sharp gaze spotted the thin scars on Vin’s thighs. Behind him, he sensed Wilmington stiffen, heard JD’s soft gasp and knew Josiah’s large hands were clenched into fists.

Seeing the rage simmering in Larabee’s hazel eyes, the healer shook his head silently reminding the peacekeepers not to frighten the child any further. Keeping up the pretence of the medical exam, the healer momentarily placed an ear to the boy’s back before letting the oversized garment drop back around his ankles.

“Sounds like that cold done hit the trail but no more runnin’ around in the snow barefoot understand?” He smiled at the little Texan as Larabee wrapped the blanket around Vin again and settled him once more in his lap.

“Yes sir. I won’t do that no more.”

“Can I ask ya somethin’ real important?” The ex-slave stooped down beside the bed again, sad brown eyes meeting the child’s even sadder blue ones. He waited for the boy’s nod of consent. “Do you know how Ezra got the scars on his back?”

Chris pulled the child into a tight hug as Vin began to tremble. “It’s alright Vin. No one’s gonna hurt ya.” He murmured. “You’re safe here. No one’s gonna hurt ya. Ya got my word you’re safe…You’re both safe.”

“I don’t wanna upset ya Vin. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” Nathan assured the child several moments later when the trembling had eased a bit. The healer’s heart ached as the little boy flinched when he placed a large hand on Vin’s knee. “Did Ezra have the scars when he came to the orphanage?"

The child shrugged, hiding his face against Larabee’s chest. “Some.”

“Talk to me Vin.” Hardening his heart Chris added a touch of steel to the order. “Tell us what happened to your brother.”

The little boy straightened. Chris suppressed a shiver when Vin’s expression went blank and the light faded from his bright blue eyes as if his soul had retreated somewhere safe, leaving an empty shell to answer their questions.

The men listened in growing horror as Vin, his voice emotionless, described their time in the institution and the events leading up to their escape, his voice emotionless.

“If ya make Ez go back, ol’ man Richardson’ll kill ‘im cause it’s the only way ta get the devil outta ‘im since the cross didn’t work.” Tanner declared. The statement was a matter of fact, without a hint of doubt or exaggeration.

Hoping to prevent any rash actions, Josiah stepped close to the womanizer as Wilmington began to shake from the effort of restraining his building anger, his hand coming to rest on the gun at his hip. Afraid of the answer, the preacher forced himself to ask the question. “What do ya mean, Vin, the cross didn’t work.”

“He said that the evil would just keep growin’ cause the devil had too strong a hold on Ez.”

“He burned him with a cross ta drive the devil outta him?”

As if fearing what the men would do to his brother knowing the boy was possessed by the devil, terror filled Tanner’s blue eyes. “He’s not evil! He’s good and brave and smart and…”

“We know Vin.” Chris pulled the boy into a tight hug, rocking slightly in an effort to comfort the distraught child. “We know.”

“He didn’t wanna cry but it hurt so bad he couldn’t stop! I couldn’t make it better.”

Josiah gently pushed Buck from the room and Nathan quickly began preparing Chamomile tea for the child.

JD eased from the room and hurriedly exited the clinic, hoping to reach the alley before the vivid images running through his mind caused the churning contents of his stomach to erupt.

*******

The men needed to talk but not wanting to stray to far from the children, Chris had sent JD for Inez as he settled an emotionally drained, Vin in the bed beside Ezra. A smile touched each of the peacekeeper’s lips as the sleeping little boy automatically scooted closer to his brother, his hand closing around Ezra’s.

With a nod of thanks to the Mexican woman, Larabee stepped onto the clinic’s balcony and quietly closed the door.

The other men stood silently watching the womanizer pace the small area, the telegram he’d read earlier clutched in one fist, his other hand constantly dropping to grip the handle of the gun strapped to his hip.

“That lowdown lyin’ sonuvabitch!” The almost whispered comment was full of rage and hatred. Once again Buck’s hand dropped to the gun. “Extremely concerned…Information appreciated…I’ll bet he’d appreciate some information…”

With a patience born of experience, Larabee lit a cheroot and let his gaze wander over the street watching as bundled against the chill wind, people hurried about their business.

With a small shake of his head, the gunslinger grasped Dunne’s shoulder preventing the young easterner from trying to comfort his mentor.

Chris knew it wouldn’t do any good to attempt to calm his old friend. The jovial gunman was slow to anger but a sure fire way to light a short fuse was to hurt a woman or child and when his temper had peaked it could be as just explosive as Larabee’s own. The safest action was to stand back and wait until Buck once again had a tight grip on his anger.

It was several long minutes before Wilmington’s steps began to slow, the mumbling fading to intermittent grumbles.

“Ya wanna finish tellin’ us ‘bout the deal you and Ezra discussed?” Josiah didn’t look at Chris. He stared at his boots, concentrating on keeping his own burning temper under control.

‘Right now all I wanna do is kill as slowly and painfully as possible the sadistic sonuvabitch that hurt those kids.’ Certain the silent desire was mirrored by his friends, Larabee took a deep breath and turned his gaze on the four men awaiting his next move.

“All ya told us was Ezra said he’d go back to the orphanage.” Josiah pointed out.

“That don’t make any sense.” JD declared. “Why the hell would he want to go back there if what Vin told us is true?”

“He said he’d go back…if…if I gave Vin a home.” The quiet words drowned out the noise of the town five men and the world around them momentarily ceased to exist. Each man let the statement register a moment before their thoughts turned to the possibilities, the liabilities and the benefits.

No one doubted having the child in his life was what Larabee needed. He needed to be a father again. He needed another child to love and protect. Having the boy in his life would help the gunslinger let go of his need for vengeance.

They also knew, afraid of ever again letting anyone close, Chris would fight his own need and desire every step of the way. It was a fight he would lose. No one expected Vin to replace Adam but they had all seen the connection between the boy and the Hoosier.

Each of them imagined a future with Vin in their lives. The love and laughter. The worry and the fear. They imagined taking him fishing, teaching him to ride and helping with his school lessons.

Smiles that began to form faded as each man pictured Vin without Ezra. No one could imagine his shy smiles, lopsided grins or happy giggles without the little southerner in his life. It was one thing if Ezra was with his mother but quite another to know the boy was back in the custody of the orphanage.

They were each certain if Ezra was returned to the territorial orphanage, nothing any of them could do would keep Vin’s spirit from dying.

In the same right, they were just as certain the same thing would happen to the southerner if Vin was sent back while Ezra went on to be with his mother.

It struck the men hard, in a truly selfless brotherly fashion, each child had offered to sacrifice himself for the other’s welfare.

“It wasn’t a lie.” JD whispered.

Chris smiled, understanding the young sheriff’s cryptic remark. “No it wasn’t.” ‘Those two are brothers as surely if the same blood flowed through their veins.’

“What did ya tell ‘im?” The easterner questioned.

“I never got the chance to give him an answer.” Larabee’s stomach flip-flopped as the image of Ezra collapsing to the jail floor flashed through his mind.

“Then what would you have told him?” Buck persisted, wanting to know if Chris had given the proposition any serious consideration.

Chris hesitated, realizing he didn’t have an answer. What would he have told the little southerner?

“I think the more important question is what do we do now?” Josiah spoke up giving the gunslinger a momentary reprieve.

“Ezra ain’t gonna be up ta travelin’ for a bit so we got some time ta decide.” Nathan advised.

“I need ta send a couple a wires.”

“NO!” Wilmington caught the gunslinger’s arm as Larabee started for the stairs. “I’m not gonna let you tell that slimy bastard those boys are here!”

“I never said I was wiring the orphanage Buck.” Chris carefully removed the grip on his arm and gave his old friend’s shoulder a reassuring pat before heading to the telegraph office.

*******

“It’s good ain’t it Ez?” Vin questioned with a grin, hopping from the bed to carry his now empty plate to the dishpan.

“Excellent!” The small southerner nodded fighting the weariness that consumed him. Not wanting to disappoint his self-adopted brother, Ezra forced down another bite of the peach pie, Mrs. O’Riley had delivered allowing the lawmen to keep their promise for the recovering child’s unusual breakfast.

The men had chuckled with delight as Ezra’s enormous eyes seemed to double in size when Vin had presented him with the large slice of peach pie and a glass of fresh cold milk. No one could prevent a smile when, like a mother encouraging a finicky child to eat, Vin had fed his brother his first bite. Ezra’s expression had been of someone who’d tasted real food for the first time after living on mud and tree bark all his life.

Leaving Larabee to watch over the boys the other men had hurried off to take patrols, their shifts at the jail and finish errands wanting to return to the clinic as soon as possible.

“Ya don’t have ta finish it right now iffen yer too tired.” The little boy assured his brother, climbing back on the bed and sliding an arm around Ezra’s shoulders. Nathan had warned everyone Ezra would tire easily until he got his strength back.

The small southerner’s hand trembled as sending a supercilious glance at the gunslinger seated at the table, he raised the fork to his lips again, his stomach churning at the thought of taking another bite.

“For cryin’ out loud Ezra, if ya don’t want it don’t eat it!” The Hoosier crossed the room and snatched the plate from the boy setting it on the nightstand. The gunslinger silently berated himself, seeing the confusion in Vin’s large blue eyes at Chris’ angry tone, when Ezra flinched, dropping his gaze to the bedspread.

In the three days since his fever had broken the spirited little boy had remained silent, talking only to his brother or answering a direct question from one of the peacekeepers. He appeared to be trying to make himself invisible in an attempt to avoid some imagined punishment.

Damn! Did the boy really believe they would punish him for being sick?

Chris stooped beside the bed tilting his head to meet the child’s fear filled emerald eyes struggling to keep the anger from his voice. Anger at the people who hurt the children and anger at himself for causing the boy’s reaction. “You’ll just make yourself sick if ya force yourself ta eat when you’re full. Ya can have some more later if ya want.”

“Yes sir.” Ezra agreed softly.

“When you’re feeling better, I think we need to finish that discussion we were havin’ but for now get ya some rest Ezra.” As the little boy obediently scooted down in the bed, Larabee was careful not to touch the wary child as he tucked the blankets around Ezra.

“Ya wanna give me a chance ta win a game a checkers while Ezra gets some sleep?” He grinned, playfully ruffling Vin’s hair.

Vin hesitated, his eyes traveling between Chris and Ezra as the boy fought his guilt for wanting to have fun and his desire to stay with his bedridden brother. Ezra had told him to do whatever Larabee asked assuring him the gunslinger wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. Ezra had said if his plan worked then Chris would play a large part in Vin’s future. He wasn’t sure what the southerner meant but he trusted Ezra. Yet it wasn’t fair that his brother had to stay in bed with nothing to entertain him while Vin got to have fun.

Chris read and understood the indecision in Vin’s expression.

“How ‘bout we read some more first.” Larabee suggested, realizing he’d found the perfect solution when the child relaxed, nodding happily.

*******

“Thanks for comin’ Judge.” Chris shook the older man’s hand when Orrin Travis stepped from the stage.

“How do Mr. Larabee.” The driver stated as Larabee took the suitcase he handed down from the top of the stage.

“Bill.” The gunslinger nodded amicably. “Any trouble?”

“Too damn cold for any fools ta try and hold us up.” Bill had been driving the stage since the route first came through Four Corners. He’d been robbed at least one trip a month before Travis had hired the five men who now protected this corner of the territory. He looked at the elderly man who’d been a regular passenger from the beginning. “Don’t know if we’ll be back through anytime soon, Judge. Signs say snow’s gonna be flyin’ hard in a few days.”

“I can always catch the train in Eagle Bend if necessary.” The judge nodded. He reached up and shook the driver’s hand. “Safe journey.”

Larabee and Travis made small talk regarding recent events on the short walk to the building that doubled as Mary Travis’ home and the office for The Clarion.

Mary looked up when the bell over the door jingled, a smile lighting her face at the sight of her visitor. “Orrin!”

Travis turned to Chris. “Let me say hello to Mary and my grandson and I’ll meet you at the jail.”

Setting the suitcase next to the door, Larabee tipped his hat to Mary and headed for the jail, automatically glancing at the clinic.

*******

The little southerner glanced from the door to the window.

“They’ll be back soon.” Nathan stared at the chessboard in consternation searching for a way out of the trap Ezra had sprung.

Ezra had seen the clear desire to be outside on Vin’s face and urged him to go when taking advantage of the weather Buck had invited Vin to ride with him to Nettie Wells ranch. Seeing Vin about to refuse the offer Ezra had convincingly feigned weariness adding to his argument the fact that Vin needed some fresh air to complete his own recovery.

Ezra had been disappointed to discover Vin hadn’t returned by the time he awakened and the youngster had gladly accepted Nathan’s diversion of a game to pass the time after the healer had finished straightening the clinic. Jackson had made a point of telling the little southerner he’d put the boys clothes in a drawer and placed their worn old carpetbag under the bed.

The small southerner’s gaze jerked from the window as the door opened and he quickly forced a smile when it wasn’t Vin who entered the clinic.

“Hey Ez, how ya feelin’?”

“Good enough ta beat the pants off me.” Nathan answered for him with a frown.

“Well put ‘em back on cause Chris would like ta see Ezra for a bit.” The ex-priest teased his friend, kneeling to help the child with his boots. He pretended to be unaware of the tension that gripped the boy as he wrapped a blanket over the old hide coat and lifted him into his arms. “How ‘bout after ya talk ta Chris, we stop by the boardin’ house and see what kinda pie Mrs. O’Riley has today?”

“That sounds fine,” Ezra nodded refusing to admit his nervousness. “However I am quite capable of walking there on my own.”

“Don’t want ya walkin’ anymore than necessary ‘til I take them stitches out.” Nathan declared slipping into his own coat. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he would be there to be certain nothing deviated Ezra from his road to recovery. “Just a couple more days.”

A couple more days.

Perhaps Mr. Larabee was prepared to give him an answer. With Ezra’s leg healed there was no longer any reason to keep him in Four Corners.

*******

Travis and Larabee both fell silent as Nathan and Josiah entered the jail, Chris’ gaze automatically going to the small boy in the preacher’s arms.

He suddenly wondered if he should have told the child he’d wired the judge. He hadn’t had the opportunity to finish the discussion Ezra had begun in this very room and not wanting to impede the boy’s recovery by upsetting him no one had mentioned what Vin had told them.

Certain Buck had taken Vin with him so Chris could talk to Ezra alone, the gunslinger had been disappointed to find the little southerner asleep when he arrived at the clinic.

Intending to insure they weren’t disturbed, Jackson and Sanchez greeted the judge and left to wait outside the door.

“Ezra, this is Judge Travis.” Larabee was alarmed to see the boy grow pale at the introduction.

“How do you do young man?” The judge moved around the desk and smiled when Ezra hesitantly shook his extended hand.

He momentarily wondered if he could sell the jewelry for enough money to pay what the judge would want to keep Vin in Four Corners.

Chris stooped down beside Ezra’s chair. “He wants ta ask ya some questions Ezra and I want ya ta tell him the truth.”

“Of course Mr. Larabee,” the little southerner agreed, his emerald eyes darting about the room seeking some means of escape. “I assume you have decided to refuse my offer. What a shame. Vin would make a wonderful son and would make make any father proud.” 

“Ezra-“

“Just what is it you would like to discuss Judge Travis.” Gathering his reserve about him, the little adult replaced the fearful child as ignoring Chris Ezra turned his full attention to Orrin Travis.

*******

“Hey Buck! How’s Miss Nettie?”

“What he really wants ta know is if Casey’s pinin’ away over him. Boy’s been cow-eyed over that little gal since the first time he laid eyes on her.” Wilmington laughed, making a mooing sound as he lifted the little Texan from the saddle.

“Casey’s cat had kittens and she let me play with ‘em. She even said I could have one iffen I wanted.” Vin told JD forgetting his fear of the young man in his excitement. “I helped with the horses and Casey let me ride hers so I could go with Buck ta take a salt lick out ta the cows.” Excitement and happiness seemed to bubble out of the little boy as his words tripped over each other. “Casey said they ain’t got a very big herd now but come spring it’ll get bigger cause the mamas will be havin’ babies. She said when I come back ta visit, she’d show me her special fishin’ hole too.”

Leading his big gray horse into the livery, Buck grinned pleased to hear the boy sounding like the happy child he should be.

“Been there myself a couple a times.” The sheriff grinned.

“Don’t remember ya bringin’ any fish back,” the womanizer teased. “Reckon maybe ya had other things ta do asides fishin’.”

“What else can ya do there?” Vin questioned innocently.

Buck smirked, watching as the Bostonian, blushing furiously, sought an answer to the boy’s question.

“Did ya go swimmin’ instead? That’s fun too. I swim real good.”

“It sure is and I’ll bet you’re a regular little dolphin in the water.” JD released a long breath of relief.

“What’s that?”

“It’s an animal that lives in the ocean,” the easterner explained. “They’re real friendly and sailors believe they’re good luck. Sounds like ya had a right fine time and I’m sure Miz Nettie and Casey appreciated your help.

“Miss Nettie had baked some ginger cookies. They’s real good and she gived me some for Ezra too.” He proudly held up the paper package he clutched.

“Hope I can talk him outta one cause Miss Nettie’s cookies are the best I ever tasted ‘cept for my Ma’s.” The sheriff chuckled before turning to his mentor. “Buck, Judge Travis came in on the stage and Chris wants ya ta bring Vin over to the jail.”

“Knew Chris wired ‘im but didn’t know if he’d make it before the stage stopped runnin’.” Removing the tack from his horse, Wilmington draped the saddle blanket over the stall rail while JD filled a bucket with oats.

Occupied, neither man saw the color leach from Vin’s face as the little boy backed through the door. On trembling legs he turned and dashed to the clinic.

“Ezra!” Vin froze as the door swung open, stunned to discover the clinic empty. Maybe his brother had gone to the outhouse? Maybe…His heart plunged as his searching gaze stopped on the empty corner where the carpetbag had rested since they’d been at Nathan’s. They had Ezra! JD said the stage had come through. While he had been at Miz Nettie’s having fun, the men had sent Ezra back to the orphanage! !

It was his fault! He should never have told them about Richardson. He should have known they wouldn’t believe him. He should have stuck to the story the southerner had made up. Better yet he should have just kept his mouth shut.

He had thought he could trust Chris. Ezra had been sure they could trust him but the men had tricked them.

He needed to get away. He needed to think. He had to have time to plan how to find and get his brother back..

*******

“He’s gone!” Dunne burst into the jail, startling the occupants.

Chris placed a calming hand on Ezra’s shoulder, visualizing a repeat of the last time the boy had been sitting in the jail. “Take a breath JD. Who’s gone?”

“Vin.” The sheriff rapidly explained the circumstances around the child’s disappearance. “Buck’s already lookin’ for ‘im. We done checked the clinic. The door was open but he wasn’t there.”

“Why would he run away?” Jackson queried.

“He went to the clinic. Maybe he’s lookin’ for Ezra.” Josiah suggested. “Did you tell him Ezra was already here?”

“No. I-“ A flush of guilt and self recrimination crept up the sheriff’s face.

“He has ta be here somewhere.” The gunslinger stated trying to remain calm in order not to frighten Ezra. He reminded the men to look anywhere a small boy could hide as the peacekeepers prepared to search the town. Chris stooped beside the chair where Ezra silently sat. “You got any idea where he might be Ezra?”

The small southerner called on all the skills his mother had instilled to steadily meet the Hoosier’s eyes as he shook his head.

“Don’t worry it’ll be alright. We’ll find ‘im. You wait here with the judge and we’ll be back with Vin before ya know it.” Larabee hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.

*******

‘My fault!’ ! Vin rested his forehead on his upraised knees wrapping his arms around his legs. His mother was dead. His grandfather was dead. Ezra was being sent back to the orphanage. Maybe he should turn himself in. He just brought trouble to everyone he cared about.

No! He had to help Ezra.

Think. He had to think.

*******

Ezra had lied.

His mother would be proud. He’d looked the infamous gunfighter Chris Larabee right in the eyes and lied like a parlor rug.

He had lied when he said he didn’t know where Vin might be. He knew where to search for Tanner and knew there was no way the lawmen would find him.

Chris would be angry but Ezra couldn’t betray his brother. He had told the shootist he wouldn’t allow Vin to be returned to the orphanage and he intended to keep that vow.

He could almost feel Vin’s fear. The feeling was so strong his stomach churned, twisting into knots.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the outhouse.” Ezra slipped from the chair and limped from the jail. Standing on the boardwalk he let his gaze stray over each of the buildings stopping for a long moment on one in particular.

“Everything okay Ezra?” Orrin asked from the doorway.

“Yes sir. I was just…”

“He’ll be alright young man. They’ll find him.”

“Yes sir.” Ezra nodded, turning down the alleyway. Checking to be certain the judge hadn’t followed he made his way behind the buildings to the church, careful he wasn’t spotted by the peacekeepers.

Standing in the shadows, the small southerner found his objective. Spotting the healer and preacher he waited, watching as Nathan entered the gunsmith shop while Josiah continued on toward the blacksmith’s. As soon as they were out of sight he rushed across the street, ignoring the pull of the stitches.

Ezra’s heart leapt into his throat when a hand suddenly gripped his upper arm as he reached the back corner of the church. Terror took over and he acted on sheer instinct as he was spun to face his captor. Kicking out, the toe of his boot connected with shinbone

“Sonuvabitch!” The curse was followed by a loud grunt as ducking he slammed his head into the person’s stomach.

Stumbling backwards, Ezra suddenly realized he was free. Before he could escape a black clad arm wrapped around his waist and he was jerked back against a rock hard chest. “Calm down Ezra.”

Recognizing the breathless voiced hissed in his ear, Ezra froze. His heart pounding in his ears, he slowly turned to face the angry gunslinger who had removed the arm from his waist only to tightly grip his wrist.

“Where is he Ezra? And don’t you dare lie ta me again.” Chris had left the jail and immediately headed for the shed where the boys’ supplies were stashed. With time to think it had occurred to him the two boys were as close as twins. If anyone would have an idea where the Texan was hiding it would be Ezra.

He’d been returning to confront the child when he’d seen Ezra slip down the alley. Staying out of sight, he’d followed the little southerner certain he would lead him to Vin.

“Where is he Ezra?” ! Emphasizing each word, Chris unconsciously tightened his grip on the small wrist. “Tell me where he is or so help me God I’ll-“ The gunslinger stopped himself before he could finish the threat.

Pain and defiance flared in the emerald eyes. Once again the terrified little boy disappeared and the small adult took over. “You’ll what? Beat me?…Lock me in jail?…Shoot me?” Ezra challenged. “So what! You still won’t find Vin. At least he’ll be safe.”

The Hoosier sat back on his heels stunned. Did the boy really believe he would cause either of them harm?

With that question came reality. Why shouldn’t he? Hadn’t Chris just threatened him? Wasn’t that exactly what this child appeared to expect from adults. Violence to get what they wanted from him. “Just tell me where he is…Please.”

“No.”

“What?” The gunslinger blinked, taken aback by the simple word. “What the hell do you mean no?”

“I believe I was speaking perfectly good English. You can do what you will to me but I told you before Mr. Larabee, I won’t let you send Vin back there. I’ll take care of him myself.” Ezra prepared himself for the blow Larabee would direct at him.

Seeing the boy tense, Chris felt his heart sink as he realized what he was doing. Larabee had felt as if a building had fallen on him with JD’s announcement of Vin’s disappearance and fear had taken over. The life he had begun to build, the life he wanted to build had crumbled with those few words.

Another boy lost.

Another person he’d let past his defenses was gone. He’d automatically buried the fear and organized the search as if they weren’t looking for someone he cared about.

Seeing Ezra leave the jail, certain the child was going to meet his brother, knowing the boy had lied to him, his fear had turned to anger and he’d overreacted. His anger controlling him Chris had forgotten he was dealing with a child and not one of the many outlaws who roamed the territory. He’d forgotten Vin seemed to be the only person the southerner trusted. He’d forgotten how often Ezra had proven his love for his brother in the short time the peacekeepers had known them. Larabee had forgotten there was someone else involved who was probably more frightened over Vin’s fate than the gunslinger himself.

Loosening his hold on the thin wrist, Chris soothingly ran his thumb over the red mottled skin. “I’m sorry Ezra. I didn’t mean to scare ya and I sure as hell didn’t mean ta hurt ya.”

The southerner shrugged off the apology.

“Where is he Ezra?…Please.” The Hoosier noticed the boy was no longer looking at him and followed the child’s line of sight to discover Buck and JD approaching. He motioned for the men to wait when Ezra took a step backwards, Larabee’s hold on his arm preventing his escape.

“You didn’t have to telegraph the judge.” Hated tears began to roll unbidden down his cheeks as he turned his attention back to the gunslinger trying desperately to pry the man’s fingers from his wrist. “I swear we didn’t know anybody owned the cabin. I paid for everything we had. I offered ta pay ya for stayin’ there. We weren’t botherin nobody! We woulda moved on! All ya had ta do was say so. We don’t stay where we ain’t wanted! ”

Ezra hated the fact he was babbling like a hysterical woman. He hated that he’d lost control of his emotions, especially in front of this man. Hopefully Maude would never find out. She would be so ashamed she’d disown him.

“Ezra listen ta me.” Chris pulled the boy into a hug, ignoring the child’s struggles to free himself. “No one is going to hurt you Ezra. Just listen to me and than I’ll let you go.”

“Let go first.”

A smile touched the man’s lips. Did the skeptical little boy ever do anything without first bargaining for a better advantage?

“If I let go will you listen to what I have to say?”

“If I listen will you and your friends not use force against me?” Ezra countered.

“We’d never do that Ezra.” Needing to gain the child’s confidence he slowly released his hold, hoping Ezra wouldn’t bolt.

The little southerner warily stepped back, wiping away the tears with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving the gunslinger.

“Remember what you said when I asked why me?” Larabee kept his tone soft. “You said because Vin trusted me. Well, you need to trust me now Ezra. Trust me to help Vin.”

He understood the doubt in Ezra’s emerald eyes. The independent youngster had pushed aside his pride and sought assistance from the gunslinger, not for himself but for someone he loved. He’d sought help and all the evidence in front of him pointed to the fact he’d been betrayed.

Larabee knew he should have taken the time to talk to Ezra. Little had been revealed, in the short time Travis had questioned Ezra before Dunne’s arrival. He should have explained to the southerner his reasons for asking Judge Travis to come to Four Corners. He should have told the boy they’d talked to Vin about their treatment at the orphanage. Because he hadn’t, one little boy was again on the run and another looked at him as an enemy instead of a friend.

Larabee’s voice softened. “Trust me to help both of you Ezra. I promise you won’t be sorry.”

Ezra rolled his eyes, his expression one of disdain. “Promises are only another way to betray someone Mr. Larabee.”

Chris followed as Ezra suddenly turned and limped around the corner to the back of the church pausing near the ladder Josiah had left leaning against the wall after replacing several loose shingles the day before, in preparation against the heavy winter snow.

He forced himself to be patient watching the little boy who thought through each move of every situation, absently rub his thumb over his bottom lip as he weighed the options.

Coming to a decision Ezra still hesitated, his heart pounding as he looked up at the gunslinger.

“Ezra?”

“He’s on the roof.” Taking a deep breath and praying he was doing the right thing he blurted out the words before he could change his mind.

*******

Gray Eagle had been wrong.

Gray Eagle had always treated Vin as one of his own. Even when he’d visited the tribe with his grandfather he was greeted as family. During his stay with the Indians, just as the other boys were being taught the skills needed to survive, to protect and feed the tribe, the chief had been teaching Vin.

The child had happily hung on every word as Gray Eagle told him stories of The People and Gray Eagle’s friendship with Vin’s grandfather.

The old chief had told Vin he would be a great warrior someday who would protect those he loved. But he hadn’t been able to protect his Ma; she’d died because of him and he hadn’t been able to protect Ezra from Richardson or Larabee and the others.

Gray Eagle had told Vin to listen to himself, to trust his feelings but he’d been wrong. Vin’s instinct had been to trust Chris. He thought he’d seen honor and caring in the man’s hazel eyes.

Oddly enough he’d gotten the same feeling from the gunslinger as he’d felt around the leader of the small tribe.

But Gray Eagle would be ashamed. His instincts had been wrong.

His feelings had said to trust Chris Larabee. His feelings had said Chris would help them yet the man had betrayed them. He must have found the dodger! He’d sent Ezra back to the orphanage knowing Richardson would probably kill him. He planned to let the sheriff hand Vin over to the judge to pay for his crimes.

Deep inside him, a small voice continued to insist he hadn’t been wrong. It persisted in voicing the belief that Chris Larabee was exactly what Vin had first thought…an honorable man who wanted to help the boys. It continued to whisper that Ezra hadn’t been wrong either in his believe Larabee was a good man.

How could they both have been so wrong?

Ezra had believed Chris would give Vin a home where he would be safe and happy. He hadn’t considered that Vin wouldn’t be happy without his brother.

His head resting on his knees, Vin shivered as the cold wind seeped through Ezra’s wool jacket. Vin’s hide coat wasn’t as warm as the blue wool. Had the men thought to give Ezra a blanket to keep him warm on the stage? Had they thought to pack him something to eat?

He would have his answers soon enough.

Ezra had told him where their things were hidden and Soldier was still in the livery. As soon as the town settled for the night he would pack a few supplies, take the horse and follow the stage trail. Hopefully he would be able to catch up with the coach at one of its stops.

‘I’m comin’ Ez. Ya ain’t goin’ back there iffen I can help it! Tears rolled down his cheeks dropping onto his brother’s wool jacket.

*******

“What the hell’s he doin’ on the roof?” JD sighed, watching as Larabee climbed the ladder.

“Up high’s a good place ta be.” Ezra sighed wistfully. “Ya can see around ya and nobody bothers ya so ya can just sit and think.”

“A safe place.” Buck whispered in understanding as he lifted Ezra, settling him on his hip.

*******

Larabee’s heart broke at the sight of Vin’s small form huddled near the chimney, his forehead on his raised knees, thin arms wrapped around his legs shivering with cold and fear.

Chris cautiously made his way over the slick shingles toward the little boy who had come to mean so much to him in so short a time. “Whatcha doin’ Vin?”

Startled, the small boy scooted backward coming to an abrupt stop and leaning forward when his back connected with the hot chimney pipe. His eyes wide, his face pale, Vin sought escape from the man he’d thought he could trust.

Realizing there was nowhere to go, his shoulders slumped and his head dropped in defeat. He’d never be able to help Ezra now.

“We been lookin’ all over for ya Cowboy.” The gunslinger sat down next to the small boy fighting the urge to grab the child and hug him close until the fear disappeared from each of them. Chris knew he needed Vin to leave the roof willingly, afraid of what would happen if he tried to force him. “Ya scared the dickens outta all a us, disappearin’ like that.”

Desperately attempting to keep his tumultuous emotions under control, Vin remained silent, his sad blue eyed gaze on the shingles. He was angry. He wanted to strike out at the gunslinger. He wanted to punish him for sending Ezra away. He wanted to make Chris feel as bad as he did and he couldn’t understand his sudden desire to have the Hoosier hug and comfort him like he had before.

Vin was determined to be strong. He wouldn’t reveal his fear to the gunslinger. He would make Ezra and Gray Eagle proud. Vin would do whatever was necessary to help his brother.

The little boy chewed on his bottom lip. He now had to come up with a different plan. They’d found him and he couldn’t help Ezra if they put him in jail.

“Real peaceful up here ain’t it?” Larabee sighed, staring out at the horizon. “Nice place ta sit and get yer thoughts together. Kinda chilly though. Stage driver says it’s gonna be snowin’ hard shortly.”

‘Don’t matter. If I get the chance I’m goin’ after Ez.’

It was several long minutes before Chris broke the silence again. “Wanna tell me why ya ran away? I thought ya liked it here.” When the little boy made no reply he continued. “Buck said he thought ya had a real good time at Miss Nettie’s. Was he wrong? Did somethin’ bad happen there? Did Miss Nettie or Casey say somethin’ that-?“

“No!” Vin shook his head. He wouldn’t let the gunslinger say anything bad about the kind woman or her niece. “They’s real nice. Miss Nettie gived me some Ginger cookies for Ezra.”

That statement was Vin’s undoing.

Larabee lifted the boy onto his lap, as Vin’s tears flowed uncontrollably and he clutched the package to his chest.

“Then don’t ya think we should get down from here so ya can give ‘em to ‘im?”

Vin couldn’t lie to himself. He would never get the chance to share the cookies with Ezra. He would never see his brother again. He wouldn’t get the chance to save Ezra from Richardson. He couldn’t even save himself from…The gunslinger’s words fully registered and Vin raised his head from Larabee’s chest, a spark of hope in his eyes.

“He’s here?”

“Of course he’s here. He told us where ta look for ya.”

“Y-ya really di-didn’t send ‘im a-away?” The boy hiccuped trying to stop the heartbroken sobs. “Ya r-really didn’t?”

“I wouldn’t do that Vin.” Larabee stated earnestly as the boy’s large blue eyes searched for the lie in his own. “I wouldn’t let anyone separate you if I could help it and especially not without the chance to say goodbye.”

“But a judge come ta town and Ez weren’t in the cl-clinic and-and-“

“You have my word he’s waiting down there for ya.” Larabee declared, never breaking eye contact. “Why don’t we go down so ya can see for yourself that Ezra’s just fine?” Chris gave a heartfelt sigh of relief at Vin’s eager nod of agreement.

*******

As soon as his feet touched solid ground, Chris lifted the small boy from the ladder, settling him on his hip.

Vin’s head swiveled about searching for his brother but JD was the only person waiting behind the church.

Seeing the young sheriff, Vin realized his desire to see Ezra had led him right into their trap. Chris had lied to him.

“NO! You lied!”

“What the hell!” Startled by the boy’s sudden struggles, Larabee almost dropped the wiggling child. He tightened his hold as sobbing Vin began to tremble uncontrollably trying to push himself away from the Hoosier.

“You lied! You lied! You did send ‘im away!…Let me go! Please! I didn’t mean to do it! I didn’t mean it!”

“Where the hell’s Ezra!” Chris snapped at Dunne who appeared frozen in place uncertain how to assist the gunslinger. “JD! Where’s Ezra?”

“Buck took him in the church ta get warm.” The easterner snapped himself out of his shocked state. Vin’s struggles grew more frantic as JD attempted to help Larabee hold onto the child.

“It’s alright Vin. Calm down! Everything’s alright. We’re gonna go see Ez.” Attempting to maintain his hold on the panicked child, Chris ducked the flailing arms biting back curses caused by the pain of small feet forcefully striking his legs.

“Damnit! Vin stop!” Larabee ordered flinching as the paper package of cookies clutched in the little fist connected with his cheekbone.

The fight began to lessen as the adrenaline drained away with the futility of Vin’s struggles, his angry shouts turning to mumbled pleading when Chris scooped up the child, holding him tightly against his chest.

Scooting around the panting gunslinger JD hurried forth to open the back door of the church.

“Please don’t let ‘im hang me…I didn’t mean ta kill her…Don’t wanna die…Wanna b-be with Ez…Didn’t mean ta kill her…” Larabee felt as if a giant hand had reached inside his chest and was squeezing his heart as he finally understood the repeated mumbling.

“Vin!” Ezra jumped to his feet rushing forward, rage and fear flooding his small body as Larabee stepped into the church. “What did you do to ‘im!”

“Put im in my bed.” Josiah ordered catching Ezra to prevent Larabee tripping over the little gambler.

Nathan threw open the door, to the small room the preacher called home. He hurriedly tossed back the blanket but the front of the gunslinger’s shirt was clutched so tightly in Vin’s clenched fist Larabee ended up sitting on the bed letting the healer tuck the blanket around both of them.

Sanchez released Ezra who immediately climbed onto the bed and began running one hand up and down Vin’s arm, the other hand soothingly stroking his brother’s hair reassuring him everything was going to be alright.

As the soft southern voice finally penetrated the fog of fear and panic that engulfed him, Vin slowly raised his head from Larabee’s chest, the tears growing stronger as he wrapped his arms around his brother.

Chris eased himself from the bed and motioned the men into the other room leaving the door open while still allowing the children some privacy

“What the heck’s going on Chris?”

“What brought that on?”

“Was he sayin’ somethin’ ‘bout killin’ someone?”

Turning his back on the peacekeeper’s questions, Larabee raked a shaky hand through his hair fighting his own rage and confusion.

Seeing the gunslinger take a deep breath, his back straightening, Wilmington knew the gunslinger was once again in control. “What the hell was that all about Pard?”

“I don’t know Buck but it’s about damn time we find out.”

*******

“Damnit Ezra just answer the question!” Larabee growled his spurs jingling as he paced in front of the alter.

His feet dangling several inches from the floor, Ezra sat perfectly still in the front pew facing Judge Travis who made use of the desk chair from Josiah’s room. Buck leaned against the doorframe, keeping an eye on Vin who had finally cried himself to sleep while Josiah, Nathan and JD watched from their own seats.

“Well young man you give me no other option than to have Mr. Tanner arrested.” The judge had spent many years reading people. Very few people could make him believe a lie and that talent had aided him well in both his profession and personal life.

“Ya can’t do that!” The southerner shouted. “He didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I beg ta differ.” Travis suppressed his satisfied smile. In the few hours he’d been in town it was obvious the way to get to Ezra was through Vin. “He confessed to murder. Is that not what you heard Mr. Larabee?”

“Sounded like it to me.” Chris nodded. They were doing exactly what Ezra expected from people, conning him to get what they wanted. Larabee hated it but at the moment he saw no other way to get the southerner to open up.

“Sheriff Dunne, did you or did you not hear Vin Tanner state he’d killed someone?”

JD squirmed under the judge’s hard gaze. “Yes..but-“

“Then it is your legal duty as sheriff to place him under arrest until his trial.”

“He didn’t kill anybody!” Ezra slipped from the bench and hurried over to Chris clutching the gunslinger’s hand. “You can’t let ‘im do this Mr. Larabee. Ya can’t! You like Vin. I know ya do! Y’all like Vin! Ya can’t let ‘em put him in jail for somethin’ he didn’t do! Please!”

He didn’t really believe the men were serious about arresting Vin but he didn’t dare call their bluff. Locking Vin away would drive his brother insane.

“I’m sorry Ezra but unless we know what really happened we have to follow the law.” Larabee stooped in front of the child. “Tell us what happened Ezra. Why would Vin say that? Who does he think he killed?”

“His mother.” The child’s reluctantly whispered words seemed to echo in the hushed silence of the church.

Shaking himself from his stunned stupor, Chris led the child back to the pew. His head down, Ezra scooted away from the gunslinger when Larabee took a seat beside him.

“Why would he think that Ezra?”

“Cause that’s what Richardson told ‘im.” With his head bowed, his gaze locked on a small knothole in one of the floor planks, Ezra finally answered Larabee’s earlier question telling his audience about the night he and Vin had fled the orphanage, leaving out the details of his own beating. “I’ve tried a dozen times ta tell ‘im it wasn’t his fault but…” He shrugged his shoulders.

Not wanting Ezra to believe the fury burning in his veins was directed at him, Josiah rose and shoving his hat down on his head strode from the church. Nathan hurried after Sanchez barely keeping his friend from tearing the door from it’s hinges as he jerked it open.

Rapidly blinking back the tears welling in his eyes JD stared out the window, suddenly understanding why Vin was afraid of him.

Larabee nodded. He probably understood better than any one the guilt Vin was feeling. His family had been slaughtered because of a madwoman’s obsession with him. While he understood he wasn’t responsible for another person’s actions Chris still blamed himself. However Vin was a small child who couldn’t rationalize that yet and didn’t deserve the burden of unjustified guilt. “Your right Ezra. It wasn’t Vin’s fault and someday he’ll know that.”

Staring at the folded hands in his lap, the little boy shook his head. “He’ll never believe me cause he loved his Mama.”

*******

The mood around the corner table in the restaurant was solemn as the four peacekeepers watched the two little boys aimlessly push the food around on their plates. No one seemed to have an appetite and Nathan had finally given up encouraging the children to eat, realizing they only forced themselves to take a bite when he told them to. He wasn’t sure if it was to please him or to avoid punishment.

Vin had awakened by the time Ezra had finished answering or evading the judge’s questions regarding his own mother, Richardson and the other employees of the orphanage. Receiving reassurances from the southerner that Travis wasn’t there to punish him and promises from both Larabee and the judge that Ezra would be waiting at the clinic when he was finished Vin had repeated the story he’d told in the clinic.

Telling them he’d talk to them later, Chris had stayed to talk with Travis as Buck and Josiah escorted Vin back to the clinic.

“Mr. Larabee?” Hesitating at the doorway, Vin had pulled his hand from Buck’s and hurried back down the aisle. Tentatively he had wrapped his arms around the gunslinger’s neck. “I’s sorry I called ya a liar.”

Travis had been hard pressed to hide his smile of pleasure when Larabee had eagerly returned the child’s hug.

“I understand son. You and Ezra get some dinner. I have some business to take care of. I’ll see ya as soon as I can.”

In the clinic the youngster had been dismayed when Ezra had opened the treat from Miz Wells to reveal only crushed bits of cookie surrounded by a multitude of crumbs.

The child’s chin had stopped quivering when Ezra had immediately popped one of the larger chunks into his mouth.

“Delectable.” Ezra grinned following the bite with a pinch of the crumbs before offering some to his brother. The peacekeepers had waited several moments letting the children share the smashed cookies and revel in their companionship.

“’Scuse me fellas. There’s somethin’ I need ta do.” Leaving his dinner untouched, Buck pushed back from the table and hurried from the restaurant, ignoring the curious glances from his companions.

*******

“Judge Travis!”

At the doorway of The Clarion, Orrin and Chris turned at Buck’s call.

“I wanna know what yer gonna do.”

“I’m gonna follow the law,” the jurist replied.

“Ta hell with the law!” His anger boiling over, Wilmington was talking even as they ushered him into the building.

Stepping into the office at the ring of the bell over the door, the newspaper editor’s curious gaze raked over the obviously angry men. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor Mary backed out of the room.

“Buck-“

“Stay outta this Chris!” Placing a hand on the Hoosier’s chest, the womanizer gave his oldest friend a shove. “I’m talkin’ ta the judge.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Larabee ducked his head, clamping his lips together to hide his smile as Wilmington advanced on the older man who stood his ground giving the peacekeeper his best imitation of Larabee’s glare.

“Mr. Wilmington I understand-“

“You understand? The hell you do!” Buck scoffed. “You understand the law but the law ain’t always right! Did you listen to what those kids were sayin’? Well I did! And just like Chris I saw the scars on those boys! How the hell can you even think about sending them back to that so called caregiver at the orphanage?”

“Buck the judge-“ Chris started.

“I ain’t lettin’ ya do this judge! Ya ain’t separatin’ those boys and I sure as hell ain’t lettin’ ya send ‘em back ta that hellhole! I’ll take ‘em myself. Both of ‘em!” Ignoring his best friend, Buck continued, his concern for the children blocking out everything else. “If I have ta I’ll take ‘em ta Mexico! At least they’ll be together and they’ll be safe from people who understand the law!”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you planning to commit the crime of kidnapping.” The older man declared, his eyes narrowing with what might have been disapproval.

“You can pretend any damn thing you like but-“

“Wilmington shut your mouth and open your damn ears!” Larabee finally ordered. Gripping the womanizer’s arm, he attempted to drag the big man toward the door. “Let’s go get a drink and let Orrin have his dinner.” He slapped a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “It’s time we had us a long talk.”

*******

Laying in bed, fighting to keep his eyes open, hardly paying attention to JD’s soft voice as he read from the book Chris had started, Vin’s gaze kept drifting to the clinic door hoping the gunslinger would arrive.

Nathan had been called away for his healing skills and Josiah was taking his shift at the jail leaving the young sheriff to watch over the children.

“I don’t hang little boys.” Dunne whispered, reaching out to pull the blanket up around Vin’s shoulders. “Especially good little boys who I care about and consider a friend…and have done nothin’ wrong.”

Startled blue eyes studied him for a long moment before, sharing a grin with his brother, the child scrunched further under the covers and finally drifted to sleep.

*******

Rearranging the food on his plate, Ezra studied the men over the breakfast table speculating on the secretive glances exchanged by the adults. When they talked it was of work schedules and trivial items as if deliberately avoiding mentioning the judge and the previous day’s events.

The southerner was certain Judge Travis had made his decision and feared the men were avoiding the situation hoping one of the others would deliver the bad news.

He hadn’t slept very well, considering and discarding plans to prevent their return to the orphanage.

Ezra blamed himself. Vin was going to be sent back to the orphanage because of the mistakes he’d made. He should have bought tickets to Denver at the first available town but he’d been afraid of the very dodger Larabee had discovered at the jail. He should have done all his business in Eagle Bend where no one there had paid a bit of attention to a kid who was alone. He should never have approached Larabee with his offer or he should have at least waited until the stage had stopped running for the winter. If Vin had only had more time to spend with the gunslinger, Larabee couldn’t have helped loving Vin.

He should have ignored his mother’s teachings and been more honest with the jurist. He should have told him about his own punishments at Richardson’s hand. He should have…

The boy’s thoughts were pulled back to the table by Vin’s soft giggle and the men’s louder groans at the punch line of some joke the sheriff told his captive audience.

“See? Vin thought it was funny,” the insulted easterner announced.

“That’s cause he’s a kid and doesn’t know any better.” Buck playfully swatted the back of Dunne’s head.

“On the contrary Mr. Wilmington. Vin has a very good sense of humor.” Ezra snapped, quickly jumping to Vin’s defense. “Just because he’s young doesn’t mean he’s addle-brained! He happens to be extremely intelligent”

He met each stunned expression defiantly before concentrating on the food in front of him. If they were expecting an apology for his outburst, they were going to be sorely disappointed. He hadn’t been able to convince them to make the Texan part of their family but he wasn’t going sit there and to let them make his brother feel stupid.

“Wasn’t insultin’ Vin, Ezra.” Buck sighed. “I know he’s a real smart kid.” He reached over and ruffled the Texan’s hair, drawing a shy smile as a reward. “Just meant JD’s jokes ain’t exactly sophisticated.”

Chris continued to watch the small southerner pick at the food as Sanchez smoothly turned the conversation in a different direction. The boys had been asleep by the time he and Buck had returned to the clinic the night before. He hadn’t gotten the chance to offer reassurance or tell them how proud he was of them for being brave enough to talk to the judge. He was certain because of them the orphanage was going to be a much safer and happier place for the children.

Seeing the dark shadows beneath the older boy’s emerald eyes, something told the gunslinger the child hadn’t been asleep at all.

‘Probably weighing the options and looking for a means of escape.’

“Gunsmith’s shed is empty.” Larabee’s comment was spoken low enough only the southerner seated to his left heard it over the discussion taking place among the others.

The lump in his throat almost choking him, Ezra slowly nodded. The gunslinger had removed the best option of running away by dispensing of their supplies and weapons. They wouldn’t be needing those things as the orphanage provided food, shelter and blankets.

Defiance angerily surged through Ezra’s veins. It was a long way back to the orphanage.

*******

Straightening his shoulders, his hand clinging tightly to his brother’s, Ezra stepped through the jail door.

Before he’d had a chance to respond to Larabee’s comment, a man had arrived, with the message that Judge Travis would meet them in the jail within the hour.

Ezra’d forced himself to ignore the curious looks caused by the strange procession as the peacekeeper’s led them down the boardwalk to meet their fate.

“Good morning gentlemen.” As he had been the day before, Travis was seated behind the desk, looking up from the papers in front of him as they entered.

The adults immediately poured themselves coffee and found comfortable positions to watch the proceedings.

The southerner forced a reassuring smile as the judge requested Vin to step forward.

The judge lifted the boy onto his knee nodding to the teapot on the desk. “Mary thought ya might like ta have some cocoa.”

Vin shook his head, glancing from where Ezra silently stood near the barred cells to the gunslinger leaning against the wall near the desk.

Travis glanced at the other boy. “How about you Ezra?”

“No thank you, sir.”

With a nod, the judge pulled up a sheet of paper from those spread on the desk in front of him. “First, I wanted to thank you boys for telling me about how Mr. Richardson was running the orphanage. After our little talks I sent some telegrams and a few replies came in this morning. This one is from the governor’s office. Richardson is being immediately replaced while an investigation is conducted.”

Vin glanced at Ezra receiving a small nod before returning his attention to the judge. This was a good thing! “So he won’t be hurting anybody no more?”

“No, Vin, he won’t be hurting you or any other children anymore.” Travis smiled. “Now I have a decision to make and I need your help with it.”

Realizing he was under scrutiny by all the peacekeepers the little Texan attempted not to squirm. “What kind a decision?”

“I have to decide what’s going to happen to you and Ezra.” Everyone saw the boy tense at the judge’s answer. Travis continued. “I have to decide what’s in your best interest. I gave it a lot of thought last night after Chris and I talked.”

“What did ya and Chris talk about?” Vin queried, chewing nervously on his bottom lip.

Ezra straightened, his heartbeat picking up speed as he listened, hoping to hear the answer he’d been praying for.

“We talked about a lot of things.” Chris moved forward and lifted the child into his arms. “One of the things we talked about was my ranch. For awhile now I been thinkin’ about havin’ Buck partner up with me so we can start raisin’ some horses out at my place.”

“Bet you could raise good horses Chris.” The little Texan declared confidently, certain Larabee could accomplish anything he set his mind too.

“Thank you.” The gunslinger grinned. “The cabin ain’t nothin’ fancy. It needs some repairs but for the most part it keeps the rain out and it’s warm in the winter. It’s gonna take a lot a work but we plan on fixin’ it up, addin’ a couple a rooms and such…”

Ezra held his breath, his heart pounding furiously in his chest, silently praying fervently to a God who had seemed to ignore the little southerner’s very existence. He wasn’t asking anything for himself so maybe this time the omnipotent being would listen.

“Buck and me…Well…we was kinda hopin’ you’d wanna come live with us.”

“Really?” Vin’s hopeful blue eyes studied the gunslinger for a long moment, waiting for the man to change his mind. Waiting to wake up to find it was nothing more than a dream. Waiting to awaken in the clinic or even worse back in his hard bed at the ophanage.

Taking advantage of the attention paid his brother and the gunslinger, as all eyes watched the interaction between the two, Ezra eased himself down the hall and slipped out the back door.

******

It had worked.

He had run a successful con giving Vin a good home with people who would love him and help him grow into the honorable man he was destined to be. Chris, Buck and the others would see that Gray Eagle’s prediction for Vin’s future came to realization.

Maude would be proud of him. He let a soft sigh escape. Maude wouldn’t be proud. There had been no monetary gain from his scheme. In fact it would cost him money. He had agreed to return to the orphanage and send Mr. Larabee money as often as possible to help with the expense of giving Vin a home.

He had made a deal and Mr. Larabee would expect him to keep his part of the bargain. At least Richardson wouldn’t be there to make his life any more miserable than it already was.

He wiped at the tears filling his eyes.

The scheme had cost him more than money. It had cost him a brother. It had cost him the only person who truly cared about him.

The little gambler had won and lost the same hand.

*******

“Ya really want me?”

“More than anything.” Chris whispered around the lump in his throat.

“Sure do Pard.” Buck smiled, stepping up to ruffle the boy’s hair affectionately.

The hope in the blue eyes turned to trepidation a moment before Vin’s gaze dropped to the shirt button at Chris’ throat. “Ezra too? Who’s gonna take care a ‘im till his Ma comes iffen I live with y’all?”

“Of course Ezra too.” Larabee was quick to reassure the boy, instantly sorry he hadn’t made that perfectly clear from the beginning.

“What good’s the pod without two peas?” Buck chuckled.

“Huh?” Vin looked at the jovial gunman in confusion.

“He means you two are a package deal ain’t ya? And we want the whole package.” Chris explained. “But it’s up to the two of you.” The gunslinger’s smile faded as he looked to the now empty spot where Ezra had been standing only a moment before. “Aww hell!” 

*******

Ezra gave a startled yelp of surprise as his feet came out from under him and he was swinging in mid air by a strong hand gripping the waistband of his trousers.

“Ya know you have a nasty habit of walking out in the middle of conversations." Larabee declared, rounding the corner of the jail, carrying the child as he would a bucket of water.

“Really Mr. Larabee that was quite undignified.” Ezra sputtered as the shootist set him back on his feet inside the jail, straightening his clothing and ignoring the amused expressions of the judge and peacekeepers.

“Don’t you ever run out on me again Ezra.” Chris growled lowly, stepping aside as Vin rushed up to his brother.

“Where’d ya go Ez? Did ya hear? Chris and Buck is gonna raise horses and they want us to come and live with ‘em!”

His emerald gaze never leaving the gunslinger’s hard hazel gaze, Ezra returned his brother’s excited hug.

Sensing his unease, Vin glanced from Ezra to Larabee and back again. Not quite certain what was happening between the two, the Texan’s happiness evaporated. “We don’t have to stay iffen ya don’t wanna.”

The southerner forced a smile. “Of course you’re going to stay!”

“You too Ezra!” Vin insisted.

He knew he wasn’t part of the bargain. Nobody wanted a child born to be a cheat and con man. “Vin-“

“I ain’t stayin’ without ya.” The Texan’s blue-eyed gaze dropped to the toe of his boot as he scuffed at the floor but his tone held determination. “We can go on to Denver and wait for your Ma there just like we talked about.”

“You’re wanted here Vin.” Ezra whispered, desperate to make the Texan see it was the best solution.

“So are you Ezra.” Chris crossed to stoop in front of the little southerner. “You’re wanted here too.”

“We had a deal Mr. Larabee. You’re under no obligation to-“

“Ain’t a matter of obligation Ezra. It’s a matter of want!” Just as he had Vin, the gunslinger lifted Ezra into arms. “I want you to stay with us. Buck wants you to stay with us. We all want you to stay here for just as long as you want.”

Ezra searched the Hoosier’s handsome face seeking the con, trying to decide what the man really wanted from him. Maude said no one ever did anything without wanting something in return.

What did they want? Free labor? Starting a ranch was a great deal of work. Did they want him to use his talents for their benefit? Gambling and conning were both quick ways to raise cash that could be used to buy stock and supplies. Perhaps they were hoping Maude would pay them well for his care.

Finding no sign of deception in the man’s hazel eyes, he turned his attention to the others, each of them with a hopeful expression as they waited for his decision.

It didn’t matter why they wanted him to stay. Agreeing meant he could be certain his brother was happy and treated well. He would work hard and remain on his best behavior. He would do nothing which could cause them to send him on his way. As long as it didn’t mean hurting his brother he would do anything they asked because staying meant he could be with Vin a while longer.

“If that’s what you wish Mr. Larabee than I would be most grateful to share your humble abode.”

Travis turned his chuckle of amusement, at the oh so polite acceptance, into a cough, shuffling through the papers in front of him as the others shared grins.

Vin let out a whoop of joy as the gunslinger scooped him up settling one boy on each hip.

Orrin cleared his throat. “Excuse me gentlemen but we still have business to conclude.”

*******

Judge Travis had made Chris the children’s primary care giver with Buck and the other three peacekeepers as secondary foster fathers.

Vin had happily nodded, squeezing the gunslinger’s hand when Travis had explained that in six months if both Vin and Chris decided it was what they truly wanted he would be happy to sign permanent adoption papers.

“Then he’d be my real Pa?”

“That he would young man.” Travis had nodded, unable to prevent a smile as bright blue eyes gazed up at the gunslinger in adoration. “If that’s what you both want.”

“And Ezra’s too right?”

There was been an uncomfortable shuffling as the peacekeepers waited for the lawyer to break the boy’s heart.

“I’m afraid my mother would have something to say about that.” Ezra stated matter of factly. “I’ll only be staying until she returns.”

“But you’re my brother so that would make him your Pa too.” Vin argued. His chin quivered as he dropped his gaze. “Iffen he ain’t yer Pa then after yer Ma comes back ya won’t be my brother no more.”

“You’ll always be my brother Vin. Nothing will ever change that.” Ezra slipped an arm around Vin’s shoulders.

“I think I can make sure of that.” Travis pulled some paper from a drawer. The adults shrugged, exchanging confused expressions as the judge quickly wrote out two separate documents.

He finally finished and looked up motioning Ezra closer. “Ezra Standish, raise your right hand and repeat after me.”

Ezra cautiously raised his hand, a dimpled grin spreading as he parroted the judge’s words.

“From this day forward, I, Ezra P. Standish, do hereby claim and adopt Vinton Tanner in my heart as my brother.”

There had been grins all around as Vin followed the judge’s instructions and both boys stepped to the desk, each signing the documents Travis had written.

Dating and signing his signature with a flourish the judge handed each boy the paper stating he had adopted the other. “Congratulations Mr. Standish, Mr. Tanner. I hereby proclaim you true brothers.”

The peacekeepers had each exclaimed admiration over the documents as they waited their turn to sign the papers as witnesses and agreeing to be responsible for the boys care.

“That was a good thing ya just did Orrin.” Sanchez said softly watching as Vin and Ezra proudly showed their certificates to the young sheriff.

The judge nodded. “Amazing what a promise and a piece of paper can do, even if it’s not legal in the eyes of the law.” The judge nodded.

“I don’t know ‘bout you fellas but I’m ready ta celebrate.” Wilmington scooped the little southerner into his arms and tossed him in the air, causing peels of laughter.

“Me next Buck!” Vin’s giggles filled the room as handing Ezra to Larabee Buck followed suit with the Texan.

The judge happily accepted the invitation to join the peacekeepers at the boarding house for a celebration of peach pie and cookies.

*******

Placing their clothes in the dresser drawer of the boarding house room, Ezra lifted the bottom of the carpetbag and gently placed the adoption certificate inside for safekeeping.

Silently mouthing the oath they’d taken, Vin had stared at his own certificate for several moments before carefully placing it inside his mother’s Bible.

Ezra inspected the jewelry selecting two of the most expensive pieces before replacing the false bottom and setting the bag inside the closet.

A room for the boys had been rented and Chris and Buck had explained that they would all be staying at the boarding house while work was being done on the cabin but if the weather held they were going to see their new home the following morning.

After the celebration the peacekeepers had decided a trip to the mercantile was needed where several pairs of socks and long johns, nightshirts, pants, shirts and another pair of gloves were purchased for the boys.

“Time for bed boys. It’s been an awful big day,” Wilmington announced as the peacekeepers entered.

When the boys had changed into their nightshirts and climbed into bed Nathan quickly examined Ezra’s leg, telling Chris to bring him by the clinic in the morning and he’d remove the stitches before they went to the homestead.

Each of the peacekeepers had received a goodnight hug before leaving Chris alone with the children

“I’m not certain how much you can sell these for Mr. Larabee but hopefully it will be enough to replace what you spent for the new clothes and Judge Travis’ fee. I’m certain his decision didn’t come cheaply.” Ezra tentatively offered the broach and necklace as Chris settled into the chair beside the bed.

“Where’d ya get those Ezra?”

“No need to worry, I didn’t steal them Mr. Larabee. They belonged to my aunt.” Seeing the anger flame in the hazel eyes, the boy dropped his gaze his chin quivering. “If it’s not enough I-“

Vin snuggled closer to his brother, draping an arm around him in a gesture of protection.

Chris took a moment to get his temper under control. Did the child truly believe everything came with a price? What the hell kind of woman did he have for a mother if he thought every gesture of kindness held an ulterior motive?

“Come here Ezra.” Larabee waited patiently as the child eased himself from the bed and slowly approached the gunslinger. Lifting the boy onto his lap, Chris took the jewelry, placing it on the bedside table. “There was no fee Ezra. I told ya before, Judge Travis is an honest man.”

“Then perhaps you could use the money to pay-“

“No!” Taking a deep breath, the blond-haired man closed his eyes for a moment before he smiled at the little boy, wanting to wipe the fear and confusion from his emerald eyes. “Ezra we bought those clothes for you and Vin because we wanted too, not because we expected you to pay us back. You don’t have to pay us for room and board or anything else we do.”

“But we had a deal Mr. Larabee and I told you-“

“I don’t remember ever agreeing to your purposed bargain. I meant what I said Ezra. We talked to the judge because we wanted ya ta live with us not because we expected ya ta pay us.” He gently wiped away the tear that slipped down Ezra’s cheek with his thumb. “Tomorrow ya put those back where ya had ‘em hid.”

Larabee’s smile grew as the southerner hesitantly slipped his arms around the gunslinger’s neck giving him a quick hug.

Opening the book he picked up from the nightstand, Chris blinked back the tears hearing Vin whisper to his brother as Ezra returned to bed. “Ya said ya’d find us a family and ya really did it.”

*******

“Ezra look! There’s Soldier!” Seated in front of Larabee, Vin pointed to the small corral as Chris and Buck reined the horses to a stop in front of the cabin.

“The rest of your things are inside.” Chris chuckled when Ezra jerked his head around to stare at the gunslinger, remembering what he’d thought when Larabee had stated the gunsmith’s shed was empty.

As soon as their feet touched the ground the boys rushed to the corral climbing onto the rail to pet the old bay horse before hurrying off to explore the half-built barn.

“Reckon we’re gonna have our hands full Pard.” Buck grinned.

“Yep, I reckon we will.” Chris leaned against the porch post, his hazel eyes on their two charges, a feeling of peace he hadn’t known in years washing over him. He sighed softly as the sounds of young laughter rang out across the meadow. He had never expected to hear that sound again. He felt Buck’s hand on his shoulder and looked around at his old friend.

“They understand Chris…”

Larabee smiled and nodded, knowing whom Buck was referring to. He had never dreamed there could be that much love in his heart and looking heavenward, he smiled, knowing the other two people he had loved more than life itself smiled back.

He was still smiling as the boys ran across the yard and threw themselves into his arms.

THE END

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