It had been a long couple of days, wrought with emotion and Vin, urging the other members of the team to return home, had stubbornly made up his mind to stay another night at Chris'.



Earlier in the week he had promised to spend the weekend and help work on the new round corral construction. He'd just be a couple days early. Not that Chris would notice with the shape he was in.



For the first time since the little band of misfits had joined together, Chris Larabee had gotten drunk. Not the few companionable drinks he shared with the men over pizza, or while watching a game, but honest-to-God-knock-down-falling-over-stinking drunk.



If Larabee could be a bastard sober, he was even worse drunk. Loud mouthed and vicious, he cut lose on whoever was nearest to him. Normally, the easiest target for his drunken anger was Ezra Standish. The con man's smart mouth always made it simple for Chris to target him and release all his pent up hostility.



This time, however, the target had been Vin Tanner. An abnormal occurrence in itself as Larabee rarely raised his voice to the young man who had quickly become his best friend.



Two days earlier, the young tracker had been puzzled and hurt by his friend's drunken meanness, not knowing where it emanated from until Buck, with pain in his dark eyes, and a somber expression on his usual smiling face, had informed him it was Adam's birthday. If the child had lived, he would have been eight. Instead. he and his mother had perished in a fire and their deaths had nearly destroyed Larabee. Only the formation of Chris' team had given him a new outlook and new hope....



Now, in the silent old rambling farmhouse, Vin padded barefoot down the hall from the living room to the bathroom. It was close to three a.m. and he was alone in the house with Chris who was still sleeping it off down the hallway. Tanner always chose to sleep on the overstuffed old couch, rather than one of the guest rooms, no matter the circumstances or length of his stay. It had been where he slept the first night at Chris' and where he was most comfortable.



Yet as he passed the door to what had once been Adam's room, he heard a soft sound. Pushing the slightly ajar door further open, he froze as the hallway's soft light spilled into the dark room. .



There, curled in his son's small bed was Chris Larabee, clutching one of the boy's favorite toys. Hallway light shimmered on the tear tracks which ran down the man's scruffy face from his closed eyes and quietly, not knowing what to do, how to help, Vin backed from the room.



He returned to the living room but instead of settling down on the couch, knowing sleep would continue to elude him, Vin moved to the large picture window. A full moon was riding high in the sky and its bright silver light shone down into the room, giving everything within and without an unearthly glow.



Sinking down Indian style in a patch of moonlight next to the window, Vin let his troubled gaze drift over the moonlit view beyond the glass panes. He raked fingers through his long hair, and ducked his head, surprised to find he was sniffling and his eyes were filling with tears.



"Damnit!" he muttered, dashing at the wetness with the back of his hand, and swiping at his nose. It touched his gentle soul to know his friend was in agony, but the emotions which were threatening to engulf him had nothing to do with Chris and Adam Larabee, but rather everything to do with one Vin Tanner.



Closing his blue eyes brought it all back.....



........."Vinton Tanner! I'm gonna get ya, ya little sonuvabitch!"



The frightened little boy panted in terror as he shrank away from the cruel huge hands which grabbed for him, darting into the dark alley to escape being caught again. His too skinny frame slipped through the tight hole in the fence and he breathed a little easier, knowing Sturgess could never fit through and follow him. But that did not stop the man from yelling his drunken threats of what he would do when the child came home.



"Better get it into your head boy, no one wants you, you little bastard! Nobody wants you and that's why you're here!" Vin tried to block out the cruel words. It should have been easy, for he had been doing it since his mother had died five years earlier. It seemed like a lifetime ago and lately he had had a hard time trying to remember her voice and her face or the way she smelled when she had hugged him to her. He'd heard grown ups say time was suppose to heal, but instead, it was only destroying the few loving memories he had of her.



Memories. That's all he owned as children services shifted him from one foster home to another.



"Home..." how he had learned to hate the very sound of that word. A word which had once invoked thoughts of love and happiness, but now.....



Alone, afraid to go back, he slid down the cold stone wall and pulled his knees up to his chest. Wrapping his thin arms about them to keep warm, he huddled down in the shadows and the tears began to flow as the moonlight high overhead held him in its cold silvery glow....



"......"Vin! Damnit!"



Larabee's slurred words drew him back to the present and he opened his eyes to see his friend lurching into the moonlit room, still clutching Adam's toy. "Where the fuck are ya?" the blond grumbled as he stumbled across the room, one hand pressed to his throbbing forehead..



"Here, Chris," Vin called out softly from his place by the window.



Larabee swung around, focusing his gaze on the long haired man highlighted in the moon's glow.



"What the hell ya doin' on the floor?" he growled, making his way to stand over the younger man.



Vin shrugged, not answering, the back of his hand swiping over his cheeks.



Larabee struggled to focus more clearly on the tracker. As drunk as he still was, he retained enough rational thought to realize something was wrong with Tanner.



"Vin?" The young man didn't answer and with a muffled "Fuck..." Chris slowly lowered himself with a painful groan to sit beside his reticent friend.



Something in the Texan's body language hit a sober chord in Larabee and he shook his head, trying to clear it. "Vin.... what's wrong?" he questioned, reaching out to lay a hand on the man's hunched shoulder.



Vin cringed away from his touch and Larabee's frown deepened. The last couple of days were pretty much blacked out of his mind but he suddenly felt a flash of worry and fear., Was it possible he had physically harmed the younger man? How many times over the past years, in a drunken stupor, had he taken a swing at Buck? Tanner had never pulled away from the older man before. If anything, since joining the seven men that made up Larabee's elite team, the shy young sharpshooter had opened up, seeking the company and security of his friends. Larabee had been correct in thinking Buck's friendship would be good for the young sharpshooter but even he'd been surprised at how the ex-bounty had blossomed under the influence of the men he worked with. Had he unknowingly done something to destroy that?



"Vin...ya 'kay?" he questioned again, sobriety slowly sinking into his system.



With a deeply exhaled breath, the lean shoulders shrugged. "Weren't nothing nohow," he whispered, not looking at Larabee.



Muttering a painfully groaned curse, Chris levered himself up from the floor and maneuvered across the moonlit room to the kitchen. As he suspected, the coffee pot was full of that thick mud Tanner called coffee, and filling a mug, he guzzled the bitter hot liquid with a grimace, pushing more of the clinging cobwebs from his mind.



Refilling the mug and pouring another, he relocated back to the living room. Chris paused, mugs in hand as he looked around in puzzlement. Tanner was no longer where he had left him. Pressing his lips in a tight line, he regarded the empty room, finally noticing the front door hadn't been fully closed.



Still a little unsteady on his feet, but his mind clearing by leaps and bounds, he crossed to step out on the porch, the night's chill a further aid in clearing his cob webbed mind.



The barefooted Texan was hunkered down on the bottom porch tread, his T-shirt clad back to Chris, his arms wrapped around his chest as though he were cold. He made no move when Chris held out the coffee mug.



"Coffee?" Chris queried when the younger man gave no response to his presence.



Startled the young man glanced up and quickly, almost involuntarily scooted further away, fumbling hesitantly for the offered mug but making no move to drink the liquid he loved so much, as the steaming vapors rose in the cool night air.



Chris sipped at his own coffee, and slowly sank down on the top step He was scrutinizing his mug, trying to find the words to draw out the Texan, when Vin's soft voice drifted to him.



"What's home ta ya, Chris?"



Larabee scowled. Of all the thoughts running through his head, he would never have imagined that softly drawled question. Uncertain of the younger man's motives for asking, he frowned slightly,



"Don't know." He waved his hand in the air, encompassing the house and surrounding area. "Here, I guess." he acknowledged.



Vin's eyes were on the ground between his feet and his words were so soft Chris wasn't even sure he heard them correctly. "Ain't ever had a home."



Chris' frown deepen another notch. "Sure ya did, growing up. Ya got that cabin now and your apartment. Ain't that home?" he quizzed, not sure where the tracker was headed, but realizing there was something the man had to say. Vin had never been much of a talker and Chris knew if he was talking now, something was weighing heavy on him.



A short self deprecating laugh sounded from the bottom step. "Them's houses, abodes as Ezra'd call 'em. I mean a home...." The quietly uttered word was filled with such longing and heart ache.



After a moment, he shook his head and muttered, "Ain't nothin' nohow," and took a long swallow of the cooling coffee.



Chris eyed at the hunched shoulders and the hanging head and recognized the man was prevaricating. It was something. Something which was bothering him deeply. Rubbing his forehead, wishing he had taken an aspirin when he was in the kitchen, or better yet not gotten drunk in the first place, he none the less questioned, "Ya wanna talk 'bout nothin'?"



The long hair moved slightly as Tanner shook his head. He made as if to push to his feet, then stopped and sank back down on the step. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, and his words were low. "They paid folks money ta take me in. Used ta think I'd done somethin' 'specially terrible if folks hadda be paid ta take me. Foster homes, they called 'em. Hell, them wasn't homes, they's jist houses. They's suppose ta nurture and encourage and feed ya.... Hell, most times I's lucky ta get a meal a day."



"Don't get me wrong, I stayed at a few goodun's but the rules say less they dopt ya, ya can only stay at each place for so long a time and most the good foster people couldn't afford ta adopt the kids, cause they spent money from the state like they was supposed to. The others....they's just in it for that monthly check."



The Texas drawl had grown thicker. Vin who'd been trying so hard to use correct grammar, following the examples of Ezra and Josiah, reverted back to the backwoods language of his youth. He drew in another deep breath, holding it as if afraid he had said too much, but the words kept coming and he didn't try and stop them. Truth be told, he probably couldn't have stopped them if he'd wanted to.



After being bottled up for years, they were finally being spoken. "Ya see, iffen they spent money on things, that cut their profits, so I got hand me down clothes, and usually slept on the floor coz beds cost money. And that's all I was.... somethin' ta make money fer 'em. State didn't have enough people or time to do the inspections like they's supposed to do now so most the time...." The words trailed off with a shrug of dismissal.



"And iffen they had kids--real kids of their own--not hardship cases like me, lots times they'd lie ta make trouble, like saying I stole their toys or broke 'em. Anytime somethin' bad happened, I'd get blamed and their folks'd believe 'em. Why not? Them's their real kids, not some kid so bad folks had ta be paid ta keep 'im 'round. They didn't really want me, 'cept for the money. No one ever wanted me round." he whispered again.



Chris' heart broke at the soft words. It was painful enough hearing Vin speak of it, but even worse knowing his quiet friend had lived it. Anguish washed through him at the thought of a sad eyed golden haired little boy no one wanted. He longed to take that little boy onto his lap and rock him, whisper everything would be all right, just had he had Adam when he was hurt and crying. But that little boy was a grown man now.......



Vin relentlessly went on, oblivious to the effect of his words on the sobering man sitting with him. "So they'd pack me up 'nd send me on ta the next place, coz I didn't belong ta 'em. I never did belong no wheres," he admitted again his voice a mere whisper.



Lifting his head, his voice a little stronger, he went on, "Most folks's glad ta see me gone. One less problem. Ya see, iffen ya ain't got nobody, ya don't belong nowhere at all. Nobody wants ya so ya learn real quick all ya got is your own self and that's all you're ever gonna have...."



Tanner swallowed hard and took a drink of his coffee, and for a moment Chris thought he wasn't going to say any more when he spoke again, his voice flat and monotone, the absence of emotion chilling Chris to his core.



"They's not all that way, the homes, I mean. Some's better.....Some's worse. 'Member one, I wasn't but maybe nine or so. Sturgess it was. Bastard used ta beat on me all the time. I wasn't bad....Don't think I was anyway....he just liked to do it. Ended up in the hospital half dozen times. Social workers'd look into it and they'd say I fell off my bike. Hell, didn't have no bike...they cost money too, and the workers'd just make note I's clumsy. And a few days later the old man would start in on me again. Know it weren't right, but I's so glad when he dropped over dead.....and they sent me away again."



He stopped, chewing on his bottom lip, raising his head to look at the stars. "He used to beat the hell outta me coz I'd sneak out at night ta look at the stars. Preacher said momma went ta heaven and bein' just a little feller, I figured she's amongst 'em stars somewhere, but I never could find her. Probably a good thing too. Last thing she said ta me was "boy, always 'member yer a Tanner....". like that was the most finest grandest thing I could be in the whole world. I's a Tanner...." His voice trailed off wistfully, unshed tears echoing in his words. "That's all she left me....'em words. Twas all I ever had ta call my very own, only thing no one could ever take away from me........" his words trailed off into silence.



Chris listened in numbed speechlessness. He had known Vin had a hard life with his mother dying when he was young and being put into county services' care, but he had had no idea. The files he'd created when researching Tanner's background before asking him to join his team had shown only the minimum information. Trying to equate that upbringing, that absence of love, security, and support, with the long haired young man sitting there on the step, he could not help but marvel at the man's resilience.. It seemed inconceivable with that kind of early life, Vin could have matured into the caring gentle person Chris knew him to be.



Hell, hadn't he just experienced another example of it, what with Vin staying with him the last few days? Larabee vaguely remembered hearing Tanner telling the others to go home, that he'd stay with Chris, assuring Buck it would be all right and he'd call Larabee's good natured friend if needed.



Chris knew he could be a drunken sonuvabitch and the last couple of days couldn't have been a picnic. He closed his eyes, wondering what he had done to bring these painful memories back to the quiet Texan. Something had triggered the Texan's despondency and he knew he had been that trigger.



Larabee swirled his coffee dregs, seeing them sparkle in the moonlight. "I'm sorry, Vin. If I done something to.."



Vin shook his head. "Weren't nothin' nohow."



Chris did not believe him. Vin wasn't a brooder and something recent had given rise to this. Taking a swallow of the cold coffee, Chris searched his alcohol fogged mind. It was slowly clearing and suddenly, as if lit by flashing neon lights on a pitch black night, it came to him. 'Get the fuck outta here. I don't want ya here! Nobody wants ya here!' His face paled as the cruel bitter words echoed and reechoed through his mind. ....nobody wants ya.....wants ya....wants ya.....'



In his stupid alcohol induced fog, wrapped up in his own grief of yesterdays long gone, he had lashed out at the young man.....the words he had used without thinking slashing into Vin's gentle soul as surely as any finely honed blade.....



The older man fumbled, setting his mug aside as he stretched out a hand to touch the other man's shoulder. But his fingers fell short. He knew all he had to say was the words "I'm sorry" and Vin would immediately forgive him without question, just as Buck always did.



Good ol' Buck knew what to expect each time Larabee dove into a bottle and would have tried to warn Tanner. How many times in the months after his family's death had Chris lashed out at Buck in a drunken rage, saying cruel hateful things wanting the amiable pilot to hurt and suffer as much as he did, the alcoholic haze preventing him from seeing the truth. Wilmington was hurting as much as Chris, yet he stayed by his friend's side, until circumstances forced him to leave, only too happy to quickly return when the opportunity arose.



Absently, Larabee remembered a neighbor's dog when he was a kid. No matter how many times the man beat and abused the poor animal, it always came back....Just like Buck. Vin had that same sense of steadfastness, that same unswerving attachment to his friends.... And with that thought came the bitter realization he was not worthy of this caring man's friendship.



Vin had believed he had found a place to belong, to place to call home, someplace where he was accepted and embraced and instantly, in a drunken outburst, Larabee had shattered that tiny amount of security Vin had come to know.



The older man castigated himself, wishing he could wipe away the careless words. Words which had clearly shattered the Texan's heart. To Chris' dismay, he realized he was no better than the brutal thoughtless people in Vin's childhood. But that thought came too late. The damage was already done....



He pushed to his feet. "Vin..."



The Texan gained his own feet and swiping at his nose, he pushed by the older man and backed into the house without a word.



As Chris slowly followed, he found the younger man seated on the arm of the sofa pulling on his boots "Leavin'?" he questioned softly, knowing in his heart he couldn't blame the young man if he did.



Grabbing his long tailed flannel shirt from where it lay on the sofa back, Vin hesitated just long enough to give him a grim stare.



"Goin' ridin'..." He pushed on out the door, leaving Larabee to stare after him.



The older man opened his mouth to protest it was the middle of the night, but stopped himself. He didn't have the right to tell the man what to do and he knew anytime Tanner was troubled, he ran to the hills, just as Chris himself ran to a whiskey bottle, to work through the problem. Vin would probably have been there long before now if he hadn't chosen to stay and watch over him.



Larabee's troubled gaze settled on the toy he'd dropped on his way to the kitchen. It was a much worn stuffed bear dressed like a cowboy. Buck had given it to Adam for his third birthday and Adam was never without it. Chris remembered the child pleading with them to return to the ranch so he could retrieve the forgotten toy on their last visit and Sarah had assured the child it would be there waiting when they returned....



Picking up the bear, Chris stared at it wondering if Vin had ever had a favorite toy, a cherished item that helped the frightened child through the dark lonely nights? Deep in his heart, he knew that child didn't.



'Mother Buck's gonna kick the shit outta you when he finds out you hurt Vin.' Larabee's inner voice chided him sneeringly. Wilmington, although not quite as bad as he was with JD, had taken to watching over Tanner almost from the moment Chris had introduced them. Larabee wasn't certain what had happened or why, however Buck had decided the quiet Texan was just gonna have to get used to having a good natured, womanizing, ex-Navy SEAL and pilot with overdeveloped maternal and paternal senses for a makeshift guardian angel. "And you know damn good and well you deserve it.'



He heard the sound of hoof beats heading out across the meadow and with a weary sigh, he sat down, holding his head in his hands.



"Ya really fucked up, Larabee," he muttered bitterly.



*******



The sun had been up for some time and Chris with it. He had showered and actually felt alive for the first time in days. Not hungry himself, but knowing how Vin could pack away the food, he nonetheless fixed breakfast, fighting nausea as the smell of bacon, eggs, potatoes and biscuits filled the kitchen.



Leaving it warming in the oven, he filled his cup and moved out onto the step, worry turning his hazel eyes almost as green as Ezra's as he searched the far meadow. Searching for that one spot he knew would be Tanner returning.



The morning faded into afternoon, and moved quickly into evening. Chris eyed the distance, watching and waiting. He knew it wouldn't be uncommon for the Texan to stay out the entire day and night. It most assuredly would not have been the first time.



It was late evening when the phone rang, jarring the man from his silent watch on the porch. Grabbing the cordless from the table, he punched it. "Yeah? Vin?"



"Hey, you're back among the conscious, are ya?" Buck's jovial voice boomed from the receiver, grating on his frayed nerves.



"Yeah."



Buck, friends with the man for far too long, immediately recognized the worried tone in the older man's response. "What's wrong?" he demanded.



Scrubbing his hand through his short hair, pacing the length of the porch and back, Chris hesitated then, "Aww, hell, Buck, Vin's took off--"



"Hell, Hoss, I've been on the receiving end of your drunken shit before. Remember I've helped keep them demons of yours company myself a time or two. Surprised the kid stayed as long as he did. You's being a real sonuvabitch, Chris." he muttered without rancor.



Buck never deliberately said anything to hurt Chris but never held back, laying it on the line saying what Larabee needed to hear whether the man liked it or not. Wilmington had earned the right. They'd been friends for too long, been through too much together and the pilot had spent too many years helplessly watching his friend self destruct to hold his tongue.



Chris cringed. Just what he needed to hear, it reminded him of his cutting remarks to the younger man. "No, he went off ridin'..." he tried to clarify.



"Hell, he's just gonna go air his mind. Ya know how he is, Chris."



"Been gone all day."



"Lot to work through maybe." Buck pointed out then pried, "Whatdya say to him, Chris?"



Larabee ignored the question. "I got this bad feeling, Buck."



Wilmington snorted on the other end of the line. "And we know to listen to them feelings of yours. I'll round up the boys and we'll be there in an hour or so." he promised.



"Thanks, Buck."



"Hell, don't be thanking me yet. We get there and he's sitting at your table shoveling food in his face, I promise you'll never hear the end of it." The light comment was meant to relieve some of Larabee's tension.



The line clicked and Chris stared at the receiver. He hoped Buck was right. He'd be happy never to hear the end of it but something in his gut was telling him they were not going to find Vin at the table when they arrived.



His senses were on edge, like he was waiting for the other boot to drop. He knew part of it was the vestiges of his drunken binge, but the other part was screaming something was terribly wrong.



He heard the sound of hoof beats and pitching the phone aside, he scrambled down the porch steps. In the growing darkness he saw the bulk of a saddled horse standing on the other side of the pasture fence.



Hurrying towards the barn he called out, "Tanner? You here?"



"Vin?....Everything all right?" There was no response and thinking the man had already moved inside to turn on the outside flood lights he stepped inside the barn. But the building was as empty as the horse's saddle. Worry deepened in his hazel eyes as he flipped on the interior lights and moved outside to catch the horse.



Leading the lathered creature inside, he turned and froze at the sight visible in the bright light. There, dried on the saddle bow and cantle was a dull brown stain. He stepped closer, reaching out his fingers to touch it. It had long been dry but there was no mistaking. It was blood. Vin's blood.



Chris closed his eyes, leaning against the sweat soaked shoulder of the gelding which shifted to take his weight. Unmindful of the sweaty lather soaking into his shirt, he sagged, his head dropping, his voice choked as he whispered, "Oh, Tanner, what have you gotten yourself into?....What have I gotten ya into?"



It had been his cruel words that triggered Vin's dash into the high country. Thoughtless, hateful words spoken from the bottom of a whiskey bottle shattering a kind heart that only wanted to help. Words that had released memories and demons as devastating as his own.



*******



Knowing it wouldn't do any good to call, with the men already on the way, Chris tended the animal and returned to the house. Quickly throwing gear in the truck's back seat he took time to load the four wheeler as well. Pacing the porch he waited, finally giving a sigh of relief when he saw the headlights coming up the lane.



He met them as they climbed from their vehicles, and Buck, knowing him best, immediately questioned, "What's happened, Chris?"



He scrubbed a hand through his short hair, "Horse came back without him."



Anxious expressions turned worried. JD spoke what they were all thinking, "Vin's too good a rider to get throwed."



"Ain't all. There was blood on the saddle." Chris added, refusing to meet their gazes.



"Lord help us," Josiah muttered softly.



"Amen," Ezra whispered.



Nathan, always level headed, pointed out the obvious, "Well, we ain't helping him standing here." So saying, he moved for the house, the others quickly following, Larabee casting one last glance across the meadow before turning to join the rest of his team.



A short time later, gathered about the big wooden kitchen table, they studied the topographical map Chris had spread out. "That's an awful lot of country to cover, Chris," Josiah pointed out.



Chris gave him a dagger sharp look, "And we're gonna check every inch of it."



"Mister Larabee, he could be anywhere," Ezra stated softly. "There's thousands of acres in the national forest. Our intrepid young friend is fond of traversing to unexplored areas....."



"We're gonna find him!" Chris ground out.



"We'll find him, Chris. It just ain't gonna be easy," Buck tried to smooth over his ruffled friend's nerves. "Think we could call in a chopper? Use infrared? Might help narrow a search. Have you called local law enforcement? They have search and rescue groups..."



Chris shook his head. "No," he admitted, "I wanted...I wanted to handle this ourselves."



Ezra spoke up, "That's all well and good, Mister Larabee, but I believe-"



"I know ya don't like gettin' those fancy clothes a yours dirty, Standish, but right now I don't give a damn about what you like or believe." Chris shouted, his hands clenching into fists. Other than finding Tanner he wanted nothing more at the moment than to pound his knuckles bloody against the smug southerner's passive face. "If you don't wanna help Vin, get the hell out and don't bother comin' back! Don't need ya-"



"That's enough, Chris!" Buck bellowed. Something had happened between Tanner and Larabee. Something Chris was blaming himself for, whether justified or not and now he was striking out once again at the easiest target in the room. He knew Ezra didn't deserve the blond man's wrath and Wilmington wasn't about to stand by silently and let Chris drive a wider gulf between himself and the con man, knowing Larabee would regret the words once his mind was put at ease concerning Vin. "That ain't what Ez meant and you know it! Ya damn well better get your shit together and start thinkin' straight!"



Larabee's anger faded as Ezra solemnly continued to meet his boss' steady glare, seeing his own fear and worry reflected in the emerald eyes. Of the men gathered in the room, Standish had grown closer to the sharpshooter than any of the others. Almost as close as Larabee himself.



The image of Vin sitting on the step speaking for the first time of his childhood flashed through Chris' mind to be replaced by the words compiled in Ezra's file. Was it any wonder the two men who seemed so totally opposite had formed a bond? Two extremely private men finding a common bond in a less than storybook childhood. Both of them seeking the love and acceptance they'd always been denied. Both of them needing to belong.



Chris saw the flicker of emotion on the gambler's guarded face. When would he learn to think before striking out? His hateful words had destroyed one man and without Buck's interference may have destroyed another.



"As I was about to say.....Chris," Larabee nodded thankfully, realizing Ezra's use of his christian name was the gambler's way of letting the older man know he understood and accepted the silent apology, "I believe with Mister Tanner's life in the balance, any and all assistance would be welcome and needed."



Jerking the cordless from the table, Larabee pitched the phone at the smooth talking man. "Here, get busy."



With a nod, the con man turned away from the group and began making calls.



"Josiah, I want you, Nathan and Buck to come with me. We'll see if we can't backtrack the horse. Ain't near as good as Vin at trailing, but I can read sign."



"What about me?" JD piped up.



"Want you to stay here, case he shows up. Help Ezra coordinate with the locals." He grabbed his satellite phone. "Keep me informed." He was already out the door and headed to the truck.



Following, Buck pitched his keys to Josiah. "I'll ride with Chris." So saying he slid into the passenger seat of the big black truck.



Chris gave him an angry scowl but Buck just buckled his seat belt, refusing to be intimidated. With a low growl, Larabee started the truck and headed out across the pasture land, his sharp eyes following the trail of the horse. It had been frightened, its hoof prints cutting deep in the soil where it had run.



Several miles out, Buck broke the brittle silence which filled the truck's cab. "Why," he hesitated, knowing he was treading where he shouldn't, but unable to remain silent. "Why'd ya let him get to you?"



Chris looked up at him, in surprise. "What'd ya mean Buck? Who? Ezra? Ya know that smug...."



Buck shook his head. "Don't mean Ez." He stared at his oldest friend and realization hit him. "Hell, Larabee, you're worried about Vin. The Chris Larabee I've known the last few years didn't worry 'bout nobody's ass but his own. Ya know, I sure was glad ta see ya crawl outta the bottle and gettin' back to your old self. Figure Vin had alot ta do with it. I'll always owe him for that but just wonderin', when did he become so damn important to ya, Chris?"



There was no response from the older man and with a sigh, Buck was certain he was not going to get one. Then Chris spoke, his voice low, "He reminds me how I use to be. How I was with you....before....How I wish I could be again," he admitted softly. "Saved his sorry ass that night in the road and never saw no one with such stubborn determination, such stubborn independence... or someone so utterly lost and alone." he shrugged not looking at Buck. "Guess he just wiggled under my skin, Buck. In a lot a ways he reminds me a you.... Sometimes I think he knows me better than even you, hell, better than myself. He keeps me honest."



"Hell, Hoss...." Buck breathed out, flabbergasted by his friend's confession, realizing Tanner's presence now did more for Chris than he ever could.



"And I guess," Chris admitted, his voice taking on a painful edge, "when I look at him, sometimes I see Adam--a man grown. Honest, strong, true...all I'd want my son to have been." He suddenly swung around to look at Buck. "Is that wrong, Buck?"



The womanizer shook his head, blinking back tears, "No, Pard, that ain't wrong at all." He realized his suspicions had been right all along. Vin Tanner held the other half of Chris' soul....."It's just natural...." Buck shrugged. "To tell the truth there's lots of times I look at Vin, JD....hell even Ezra and think, that's what Adam would have done....or that's what Adam would be like."



"Ezra?" Chris choked out the gambler's name in surprise. Vin, definitely! JD yes. But Ezra? How in the hell....



"Hell, yes...." Wilmington laughed. "Ezra gets that same cat that ate the canary grin when he's got a secret that Adam always had. It's how you knew he was up to something."



A small smile touched Chris' lips. Buck was right. Standish was famous for his poker face and stand offish ways, but somehow Vin was his weakness. When those two were in cahoots, and up to something which they both knew would make that vein in Larabee's forehead throb, the southerner couldn't quite keep his mischievous smile totally hidden.



Suddenly, without warning, Chris slammed on the brakes so hard Josiah, following in Buck's truck, had to swerve to the side to avoid rear ending them. With a look of anguish washing across his pale face, Larabee threw himself from the vehicle, stumbled to his knees and began retching.



Buck followed, waving Nate to stay where he was. He'd been in this same place too many times with Larabee before. He watched as the man eased back on his heels, wiping at his mouth.



"Ya okay, Hoss? It's all that bingeing catching up with ya." he warned. "Betcha didn't eat anything today either, did ya?"



Chris shook his head, his green eyes filled with agony. "Weren't that, Buck....it's Vin..he's hurting,.....hurting bad."



Buck blinked several times, then realized what the man meant. He smiled doubtfully, thinking Chris was going off the deep end. All that booze he had consumed over the years had to be shorting out his brain cells. Yet somewhere something deep inside him knew differently.



"I can feel....." Chris shook his head, unable to understand it himself, and knowing there was no hope in hell of explaining it to Buck.



Buck shrugged, "Hell, Chris, the sooner we find him the better." He helped the pale faced man to his feet. "Ya need me to drive?"



Larabee shook his head and slid back in behind the wheel. "I think I know where he went." Gearing the truck, he sped across the meadow, not even trying to miss the ruts.



As the high beams illuminated the long ago abandoned farmstead, Chris eased to a stop. "He came here."



"You can't know that," Buck half scoffed, then backed down when he saw the look Larabee threw his way.



Buck recognized the place, having passed it before when helping Chris round up his small herd of cattle. At an easy pace it would have taken Vin nearly a full day's ride on horseback to reach this area. As it was, they'd already spent half the night in the four wheel drive trucks.



He hoped Chris was right. At least the chopper would have plenty of room to land if Tanner was hurt. They wouldn't have to try and take him out the way they came in.



Scrambling from the vehicle, halogen light in hand, Chris moved through the old foundation's stones. Buck leaned against the truck as Josiah and Nate came up beside him. He just shrugged at their expressions.



"Says Vin was here..." he offered as explanation to their unspoken question.



"How--?"



"Here!" The one word got their attention and they hurried to where Chris was bent over in the dirt. Looking down in the circle of light, they saw the scuffled bootprints...and the dried blood splattered on the ground.



Buck stared at Chris. "How did you know...?" he whispered. 'The same way you would know if it was Chris or JD out here.' His inner voice chided.



Josiah had moved away with another light and called out, "There's hoof prints over here. And looks like tire tread markings."




The other men moved to focus their lights on the spot he indicated. "That's from a four wheeler," Nathan pointed out needlessly. He glanced about. "How'd that get up here?"



"Two of them," Buck clarified, "and I say they came in from the park land." He scuffed up a pile of discarded cigarette butts and several Little Debbie wrappers. "I'd say they was waiting for a while to waylay him."



Chris scowled. "Don't make no sense. How'd someone know he would be up here?" He shone the light about. "This ain't exactly Main and First."



"Someone sure as hell waited for someone. Might have been Brother Vin or not, but he sure stepped into it. No question bout that," Josiah stated.



"Maybe we can trail these tracks.," Nathan suggested, "but there's lots of timber roads and hauling trails in there. They coulda went anywhere. Odds are we'll lose them there."



Chris growled deep in his throat, "Well, damnit, let's see if they did before we write them off!" He hurried towards the truck, throwing the light on the back seat as he started the vehicle and with the bright lights sweeping the area, highlighting the torn tracks of the four wheelers' knobby tires, they headed for the national park lands.



*******



As Chris drove, Buck was on the sat phone, calling the ranch, informing Ezra of what they had found, he asked the helicopter be sent to the park land, thinking perhaps the infrared could locate the men, if they were still in the area.



Even as he was talking he could hear JD on the other line, requesting the park rangers to send out search and rescue. A sudden flash of guilt raced through the womanizer that they were pulling these people from other search details. That would not sit well with Vin when they found him. He always hated fussing and bothering on his behalf. Tough shit! Chris believed Tanner needed help and Buck believed Chris.



"Chopper just set down to refuel. Be back in the air momentarily." Buck couldn't help but wonder what strings Standish had pulled to start the helicopter searching the forest area without verification that's where Tanner had even disappeared. It didn't matter what strings he'd pulled or who he'd conned to get his way. They were ahead of the game, giving them precious minutes that might mean the difference between finding Vin alive and being too late.



"ETA on that chopper is 15 minutes, Buck," Ezra informed him, dropping his more formal address under the circumstances. Although the con man would have them believe he was a heartless bastard, he was the closest to Tanner and even Buck could detect a worried tone in his calm voice.



"Shall we contact the hospital, have them standing by?" he questioned, trying to get Buck's feel for the situation since he himself could not be there.



"Hold on that, Ezra. Let's see what we find first." In the back of both their minds was the fact it might not be the hospital's services they would be requiring. "We'll be in touch." He cut the connection and looked at Chris.



The man's face was a pale mask, his eyes glittering green jewels. Buck knew this Chris Larabee...driven, desperate, determined... There would be no stopping him until Vin Tanner was found.



The truck slid to a stop at the far reach of Larabee's property where it butted against the national park lands and the two men exchanged looks. The drift fence, used for holding back the heavy wind blown snows in winter, had been cut and the four wheelers' tracks clearly went on beyond the boundaries of Larabee's ranch.



"Well, at least they know the area," Buck muttered.



Chris gave him a scowl as he climbed out. Josiah and Nathan joined them at the cut fencing and it was Josiah, swinging his light in a sweeping arc, who pointed out something had been caught on the fence. Nathan plucked the piece of fabric free and held it up in the light of the high beams.



Chris' heart dropped. "It's off Vin's shirt. He was wearing that long tailed blue flannel when he rode out."



"At least we know we're on the right trail," Nathan offered hopefully.



"Wasn't aware there was a wrong trail, damnit!" Chris snarled.



Nathan looked at Buck who simply shrugged. He wasn't about to make excuses for Chris. The man had a right to be upset. Hell, he was too. "Okay, we know they headed into the forest land. Maybe the infrared can find something."



"That chopper tied in to this phone, too?" Josiah rumbled and Buck nodded.



As if to verify that very fact, the phone warbled and he grabbed it. Nodding and listening, he thanked the other person and hung up. "That was the chopper. They had a hit four miles to the west, but it was a group of overnight hikers."



"Fuck!" Chris swore bitterly.



"Don't get all hot, Chris. The rangers contacted them on the ground and it seems they saw two four wheelers earlier. Being so late and well after dark, they were rather upset, and fully intended to report them for being off marked trails."



"Did they see Vin?" Chris cut in.



Buck shook his head. "It was dark. They just saw shadowy figures. It's hard to say."



"Damn!" Chris turned and kicked the truck door. Nathan winced but said nothing, knowing the man's nature. He had to let off steam or it would be one of them he would be decking.



"I got the directions to where they were seen. We want to check it out?"



Josiah nodded. "Be daylight soon. Might be able to find something helpful."



"There's an access road up here a short ways..." So saying Buck moved for the truck and after several long moments, Chris climbed in behind the wheel and they drove in the direction the womanizer indicated, the red truck following.



*******



Driving over the narrow twisting hauling and logging roads which comprised the only means of travel in the forest, they finally reached the campers' site. The half dozen or so teenagers were just arising and Buck wisely pointed out Josiah should be the one to speak to them. He knew Chris would just glare and make demands and no one needed that first thing in the morning.



The big gray haired preacher approached the campsite and although the kids were leery at first, his open manner and calm voice soon had them gathered about. He explained the situation and motioning to his three friends, still at the trucks, explained they were officers of the law and looking into a kidnapping.



Half an hour and two cups of their camp coffee later, he returned to the others, his expression giving away nothing as he leaned against the black truck's front fender, and braced his booted foot on the bumper.



"Good kids. They're from Denver, out here doing research for a biology class." he explained.



Chris gave him a cutting glare, as Nathan and Buck exchanged looks. Sometimes the profiler was worse than Standish when it came to getting information out of him.



The preacher continued, ignoring Larabee's impatient sigh. "They was up on the West Trail, headed back to camp, when two four wheelers nearly ran them down. Said they didn't have their lights on.... and they never heard them until they were right on top of them. Knocked two of them into the brush off the trail and Bob, the dark headed one, sprained his wrist when he fell."



"He need me to look at it?" Nathan straightened.



"No, Joe there had first aid training and he tended it. He'll be all right."



Chris straightened as well and moved toward the campsite.



"Where you going, Pard?" Buck called out.



"To get answers!" Larabee snarled.



"Hold up, Chris. I got answers," Josiah told him, causing the man to return to the truck. "They tried to follow the four wheelers and lost them. Couldn't keep up, but they were headed to Bleeker's Trailhead. And for what it is worth, one of them saw a dealer's sticker on one of the machines." He held out a crumpled piece of paper. "It was from Oklahoma."



Chris grabbed the paper on which was scribbled a name and grabbed the sat phone. He dialed JD and was relaying the info before the other men knew what he was doing.



"Think we ought to check out this Trailhead place?" Buck asked.



Nathan nodded. "They couldn't ride them four wheelers all the way here. Had to haul them. Might be where they left their trucks. Worth looking into."



Without another word, Chris turned and flung himself into the driver's seat. Buck scrambled to join him as he slew the vehicle about and headed for the trailhead jump off point.



*******



It was midmorning by the time they pulled into the graveled parking lot. It was empty, except for a dark green park ranger vehicle. As they climbed from their trucks, the ranger approached, flashing them a bright smile.



"Morning, gentlemen. Nice day to be riding." She nodded towards the machine in Larabee's truck. "It's my duty to warn you...We frown on doubling on these types of Hondas....."



"Miss," Buck leaned closer to read her name tag, "Miss Howlett, we don't plan on riding. We came up here looking for some friends..."



She blushed a rosy pink. "Sorry, I just jumped to the conclusion..."



Buck gave her a wink. "That's okay, darlin'....."



"You see anyone else up here?" Chris cut in curtly, knowing once Buck got exercising his 'animal magnetism' he would never be able to get a word in edgewise.



She started to shake her head. "No....wait..there was two other trucks heading out of this area...just after sunrise this morning. We try to keep tabs on these out of the way places, you know."



"What kinda trucks?" Josiah rumbled.



She gave the huge man a shrug. "A blue one and a white one. I don't know makes. If it was wildflowers or trees I could help you out." she offered apologetically.



Chris rolled his eyes in disgust. Why couldn't it have been a male ranger?



"Well, thanks. We gotta go." He snagged Buck's arm. "C'mon, Buck."



Giving the ranger a sweet smile, Buck turned to climb into the truck. As he reaching to close the door, she ran over to lay her hand on the window edge.



"If it's any help at all, the white truck had outta state tags. One of those temporary paper ones. Oklahoma, I think. The blue one." She hesitated, " it was this kinda truck, only longer in back. And it had one of those camper toppers on it, only it was red. Looked downright crappy on that pretty blue truck."



Without warning, Buck leaned through the window and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Thank ya, darlin'!" he called back as Chris pulled out of the lot.



*******



It was late afternoon when they finally pulled in at Chris', no closer to finding Vin than they had been when they'd left. Tired and disgusted, still coping with a hangover, Chris had been silent the entire drive and Buck had kept his own consul, trying to place anyone they had dealt with who had ties to Oklahoma. He knew Chris was doing the same thing.



Jumping from the truck, Chris bound through the front door, yelling "JD!" at the top of his lungs. The other men followed, exchanging looks as their leader stormed into the dining room where Ezra and JD were gathered, studying maps and talking on the phone.



"JD, you got any connections in Oklahoma?" Chris demanded, the moment the boy hung up.



Dunne shook his head. "Fraid not, Chris. Why?"



"Can you hack into their DMV, find vehicle info?"



Dunne chewed his lip. "Of course."



"Get busy on it then." He pitched the piece of paper with the dealer's name on it down on the desk beside the computer. "See if there is a connection between anyone buying a green Honda at this place and a recently bought blue F250 long bed."



JD shook his head. "That's gonna take a while, Chris," he pointed out, trailing off at the look Larabee shot in his direction.



"Then get on it!" The older man growled, turning to Ezra. "Any news?"



"I'm sorry to say none, sir," Ezra admitted. "Search and rescue are still searching the side roads and hauling sites in the forest. Local law enforcement has posted an APB on our Mister Tanner and the highway patrol has the same issued on the vehicles you called in."



Chris scrubbed a hand through his hair and accepted the cup of coffee Nathan held out to him. "That's all?" he demanded of the southerner.



"Everyone is doing the best they can, Chris," Josiah pointed out quietly.



"Ain't enough!" Chris snapped and turning on his heel, he moved for the bedroom. Nathan started to follow, but Buck caught his arm to stop him.



"Let him be, Nate. He needs time alone." The womanizer knew if any of them approached Chris while he was in this kind of foul mood, he would take their head off. Lord knew it had taken him a long time to learn not to get in the man's line of fire when he was that pissed.



"So what do we do? Sit around and wait?"



"What would you have us do, Mister Jackson? Run about like fowl with its head severed from its body hoping to stumble across our missing colleague?"



"Speak English, Ezra, or shut up," Buck muttered, moving to refill his cup, returning with the other men who had scattered out onto the front porch to escape the confines of the house, and to let JD work in peace and quiet..




The shrill ringing of the land line phone overrode the voices and Ezra was the first to reach for it. Moving away from the open door and the voices without, he placed the receiver to his ear. "Yes?"



"We got Larabee..." a guttural voice growled



Ezra frowned. "I beg your pardon?"



"We done got Larabee. And if ya want to see him alive again, listen up. We want Clayton Upshaw released from prison..... Ya got 12 hours."



"Wait!"



The usually unflappable Southerner's loud plea reached the men outside and they crowded to the door, suddenly quiet at the stricken look on the con man's face. Swallowing hard, the gambler replaced the phone on the table and looked up, his expression tormented.



"Ez, what's wrong?" Buck voiced the question they were afraid to ask, afraid of the answer which would inform them their friend had been found dead.



The con man flustered, "I-I.... a most unusual conversation." Dialing a number on his cell phone, the gambler held up a hand for silence. "Margie?" Keeping his request short and efficient, Ezra asked the woman on the other end of the line to obtain if possible the number and location of the last call that came in on Chris' line.



"Who was it?" Josiah questioned as the men pressed back into the room to gather about Standish.



"I assure you I have not the slightest inkling."



"Was it about Vin? Is Vin all right?" Buck questioned softly.



Ezra shook his head. "I am uncertain, Mister Wilmington. I do not believe the conversation appertained to Mister Tanner."



A sharp voice cut in and they all turned to face their leader, "Then what the hell was the call about?"



Ezra drew in a deep breath. "A primitive gentleman informed me 'they done got Larabee.'" He eyed the lean blond man. "It appears he was in error."



"Got Larabee?" Is that all?"



"He rudely solicited the immediate emancipation of one Clayton Upshaw or you would no longer be amongst the living."



Chris' face paled and he sank down against the sofa arm behind him. "Oh, fuck!"



"Perhaps you would care to enlighten us too, Mister Larabee?" Ez stated, looking at the puzzled expressions around him.



"Damnit, don't ya see? They grabbed Vin, thinking it was me!" Chris practically screamed at them. "They thought he was me!" he repeated. "Me.." he whispered, guilt flooding the one word.



"It would appear you are correct, Mister Larabee. It would explain Mister Tanner's untimely disappearance. Do you recall this Upshaw?" Ezra questioned when the others failed to voice the same thoughts. At times, the southerner took his life in his own hands by being the only one to nag and push at Larabee when he was in his darkest moods....



"No...." Chris shook his head. "Upshaw....Upshaw. Damn! Last year, before you all came along. Went into town to get some ...libations," Larabee glanced at Ezra, hoping the gambler realized his use of the word they normally used to tease the con man was another way of apologizing. He wanted Standish to know he appreciated the lengths the southerner had already gone to in searching for their missing friend and regretted constantly taking his frustrations out on the con man. "And this kid was holding up the liquor store. Hell, I wasn't thinking too straight, so I tackled him and held him until the cops got there. The clerk....he'd shot her and she was paralyzed for life. I testified against him and he got life.... "



"Wouldn't these kidnappers know it wasn't you?" Josiah questioned bluntly.



Chris shook his head. "No, his family was in Oklahoma and never showed for the trial." He stared at the floor as he bitterly added, " They wouldn't know me from a sack of horse feed."



"Perhaps, Mister Dunne, you might check those records you have managed to appropriate and see if the name Upshaw is present."



The youngest member turned and began flipping through the screens on his monitor.



Larabee added, "Might try Clayton, too. It was his mother's family name."



"It appears you know a few things about the fella, Chris," Buck nosed.



The blond shrugged. "It was something to do at the time."



"Yeah, here it is.... Clinton Upshaw, Poteau, Oklahoma. Two weeks ago he bought a new F250 long bed pickup from Davis Ford. It was midnight blue, VIN number 1283759259149101."



"Just what that pretty Miss Howlett described, bless her heart," Buck muttered.



"Okay, we know who and why. Now, how do we find him? And Vin?" Nathan pointed out.



"JD, call in that info to the patrol and have them update the APB. Do the same with local law enforcement. Someone might stumble on it while they're on patrol." Chris ordered, moving to pour himself a cup of coffee but finding the pot empty. "Someone wanna fill this up again? And some sandwiches would be nice..."



He really wasn't hungry, but knew Nathan would be on his ass for not eating and would give him his patented lecture about keeping his strength up..



"They could be anywhere, Chris, between here and Oklahoma," Buck pointed out softly.



"Yeah, but they'd hang around close if they think we're gonna release Upshaw."



"We have less than 12 hours...." Ezra stated quietly.



"Then get moving. Stop wasting time," Chris growled, and the men scattered to the various tasks.



A short time later, the room was quiet as the men picked at their supper. Buck had flipped on the TV to catch the local weather and they were half heartedly watching it as they sat around, waiting for the phones to ring with good news.



"Oh, shit, NO!" They all focused on Buck "No! Look!" He was on his feet, pointing at the TV screen.



Five pairs of eyes swung around to see what he was yelling about and they all froze at the images displayed on the screen.



"That bitch! Why now?" Chris lamented as he jumped to his feet. "Why did she have to air that now?"



There on the screen was the piece a local news reporter had done on the local 4-H group and specifically on the generous man who had donated a quarter horse yearling to one of the children. That generous man was one Christopher Larabee and there he was on the screen, handing the child the lead rope and talking to the reporter about how more people needed to get involved with children's organizations. There he was, the wind blowing his blond hair, squinting his hazel eyes at the bright sunlight, a full screen close up with his name printed in bold black letters across the bottom of the screen....



"Maybe they won't see it," JD offered hopefully.



"Maybe the sun won't come up in the morning either," Buck muttered, turning to Chris. "You couldn't have known she would air it now..." trying to take some of the guilt off his friend.



"They see that, they're gonna know they ain't got me.... That means Vin's life ain't worth two whoops in hell, and you know it!" The team leader stormed from the room, leaving the other five men to stare after him in despair, knowing he was right and there was nothing they could do.



*******



The night passed slowly, none of the five wanting to give in to sleep, but instead, lurked around the phones and computer, watching the clock, waiting for some word, any word on Vin, willing the phones to ring to no avail. Chris, in his room, was in a high temper at not being able to act, but until they had some word, some clue as to where the tracker was, there was nothing to do but wait....



The weather even turned against them, the night sky opening with a flooding downpour which kept them all inside and on each other's nerves. Only Ezra seemed unperturbed, calmly playing a game of solitaire on the kitchen table. But anyone who knew him well, knew the seemingly uncaring man was agitated by the inactivity, and as concerned as any of them for Vin's return..



JD finally gave in and crashed on the floor, and Buck covered him with an afghan to keep off the night chill before joining Josiah and Nathan in front of the muted TV. The colorful figures ghosted across the screen, but no one paid them any mind, as drinking coffee, they were each consumed by their own fears for the missing member of their group.



The long night eventually passed, the rain finally tapering off at dawn. The sun broke through the clouds, bringing a bright newness to the land, that kind of newness only felt after a heavy rain, the air cleansed and everything rain washed.



Josiah moved about the kitchen, quietly fixing a breakfast no one would be eating, but at least content for the moment to be doing something other than praying and brooding. Buck and Nathan headed for the barn to tend the horses. JD still slept, and Ezra sat quietly by the phone.... still waiting. And Chris...only Chris knew what he was doing.



Then, as the hours crawled by, Larabee stormed from his room, and grabbed the phone lying on the table at Ezra's elbow. The con man's cards went flying and he gave the blond leader an exasperated look, muttering, "You could simply have asked for it..."



Chris ignored him as he dialed and turning away, he moved out on the porch to carry on his conversation, but Ezra heard enough to know he was talking to the Judge. Larabee's voice raised, then contrite, he finally returned to the house, the other men having gathered about the table as they'd returned via the back porch. Coffee cups in hand, they all looked towards their leader.



Chris' eyes were fierce and their angry look enchanced by the dark circles which proved that, like themselves, he hadn't slept. His short blond hair was sticking out at all angles and he was wearing the same clothes as the day before. He stood bouncing the phone from one hand to the other. "I tried talking the judge into releasing Upshaw."



The other men exchanged looks, and it was Buck who blurted, "Whoa, Partner, that ain't wise!"



Chris glared at him as he threw the phone on the table. "You got any other ideas? I'll release that sonuvabitch and whoever else it takes to get Vin back!"



Averting his eyes, Buck shook his head as Chris went on, his voice bitter. "Doesn't matter. Judge didn't agree to it." He stared at the floor, realizing all options were exhausted.



The pulse of a ringing cell phone broke the brittle silence and Ezra grabbed the device first. Speaking softly, he nodded and a small smile touched his lips as he thanked the caller and hung up. The others looked to him expectantly. "That was local law enforcement. It seems on a routine patrol, one of the officers spotted our out of state blue truck with the mismatched top."



"And...?" Buck pressed, as they all held their breath.



"They are awaiting our arrival. I have the address...." The other men scrambled to grab their gear and were out the door as he ended, "right here."



He dashed after them, pausing only long enough to turn off the coffee pot.



*******



It was a seedy part of town. A cheap by the hour hotel. The three trucks quietly pulled up behind the local enforcement vehicles and Chris hurried to join the officers who were gathered around. "Larabee..." he offered briskly, "and my men."



"Well, Mister Larabee, there is your wanted vehicle. Clyde there spotted it about an hour ago. Haven't seen any signs of movement, but the desk clerk said there were two of them in room fourteen. You want to take it from here?"



Chris nodded. Turning to the others, he chewed his lip. "We need to know if Vin's in there. Can't risk a fire fight with him in the middle of it."



"Perhaps...." they all looked at Ezra, "passing one's self off as housekeeping detail..." He nodded toward the supply cart sitting just down the building where the maid was taking time for a smoke.



"You're elected."



Ezra frowned, looking down at his tailored clothes. "I do not believe they would buy my circumstances.... Young Mister Dunne, perhaps." He motioned to the youngest member in his T-shirt and jeans.



"Sure, I'll do it." Snugging his baseball cap down lower over his eyes, JD skirted around the vehicles and moved to the maid. A few quiet words and they saw her nod and with a smile, the kid, sticking several rags in his pocket and a spray bottle hanging off his hip, blocking any view of his gun, pushed the cart down the length of the building. They could hear him whistling as he knocked on the room door. "Housekeepin'!" he sang out.



There was no response and he shifted his weight, calling out again, "Hey, housekeeping. Anybody in there?"



A string of cursing could be hear and the door was flung open. "Get the fuck out!" someone snarled.



"Hey, ya didn't hang yer do not disturb....thought it was empty," JD improvised as his dark eyes searching the dim interior behind the man. "Sorry..."



"Damn well should be! Can't get no sleep! Gonna get my money back!" the man stormed as JD backed away, still apologizing as the man slammed the door in his face.



Pushing the cart ahead of him, JD moved further on down the row, and as he passed by the Oklahoma truck, he leaned over to look inside. Then pitching the bottle and rags back on the cart, he ran to where the others waited.



"Well?" Chris didn't give him time to catch his breath.



"Room's empty. Just him and another man asleep. He had black hair so it wasn't Vin. No luggage, just some take out food. Two fast food cups. Nothing in the truck either."



Chris stood debating with himself, the gathered men watching him. Suddenly, anything he had to suggest, was all deemed irrelevant as the door to room fourteen burst open and two men came out, guns blazing.



Dodging the bullets, the six men dropped behind their vehicles as the locals sang out, "Police! Drop your weapons!"



Ignoring the demand, the two ran for their truck and to Chris' dismay, went down in a hail of bullets from the other officers before he could yell for a cease fire. He saw the miscreants go down as with a frantic, "NO!" he raced for the closest one.



Grabbing a fistful of shirt front, he jerked the man up, oblivious to the blood streaming everywhere. "Where's Vin!" He screamed. "That wasn't Larabee you took. It was Vin Tanner. Where is he?"



The man gave him a bloody snarl and laughed out, "Fucker's.....dead..." before gasping and releasing his last breath.



"NO!" Chris shook the man, unmindful of his condition. "Noooooooooo!"



Buck's strong hands pried him away from the man and it took both him and Josiah to drag Chris away from the scene as the police stood giving the crazed blond madman skeptical looks. Dragging him forcefully to the trucks, Buck finally released his hold and Chris sagged to the grass, his hand going to his head as he shook his head. "Oh, God... !! Vin...noooo........"



Exchanging heartbroken looks, tears streaming down each of their faces, the other five closed ranks around the sixth as he screamed out his grief at not being able to save the one who was closer to him than a brother.



*******



All the paperwork concluded at the police station, the somber group of six retreated to Chris' farmhouse, sedate and quiet. Chris immediately locked himself in his bedroom and the others settled in silence around the living room.



Only Ezra showed any animation and that was to serenely begin flipping his cards into JD's upturned hat which was on the floor by the youngest member's chair. The constant flip flip of the cards was suddenly broken by the honeyed words, "I am loathe to dispute a perishing man's final utterances, but Mister Tanner is not dead." They all swung around to eye the southerner as if he had lost his mind.



He continued flipping the cards, each one landing dead center of the hat. "Our young Mister Tanner is far too inventive and resourceful to be dispatched by such vermin."



"You're crazy, Ezra!" Buck blurted, "We all saw the blood up at that old farmstead."



Ezra tore his gaze from the hat long enough to pin the womanizer with an emerald glare which would have done Larabee proud. "Mister Wilmington, a few drops of blood does not a body make." he pointed out, turning his attention back to the cards. How could he explain to these men? If Vin were dead, he would 'know' it somehow, feel it somewhere deep in his being. There would be an utter sense of overwhelming deprivation, the bereavement of a friendship, the first true friendship he had ever known. Yes, somewhere in his core he would know if Vin Tanner were no longer on this earthly plain, but he did not feel such a dispossession....



"Well, that fella seemed pretty sure..." Nathan muttered.



"He could have simply been antagonizing Chris, in retribution," Josiah offered, in some way perceiving what Ezra was trying to say. He, too, was having a hard time believing the lively twinkling eyed young man was dead.... The very thought went against everything good and decent he had come to believe in.



"Shouldn't we have a memorial service....or something?" JD questioned softly, not looking up.



"I repeat, gentleman, Mister Tanner is not deceased. He is wily enough to always have..." he revealed the last card in his hand, "an Ace up his somewhat tattered sleeve." With a quick flip, the ace of spades landed face up on the other fifty one cards. "I, for one, decline to inter a person who is not dead." he stated with resolution. "I am sure Mister Larabee would agree with me, if he were in the condition to see beyond his grief."



"Chris, agree with you? Ez, what have you been putting in your coffee?" Buck attempted to tease him.



The con man turned back to his cards, gathering them to shuffle them in his long agile fingers. "If it is Mister Tanner's brew, I place plenty of sugar," he deadpanned, and despite themselves, the others had to smile. It was a well known fact only Tanner could drink Tanner's coffee.



"Here's hoping we will be able to enjoy that coffee again," Josiah muttered softly and the smiles vanished.



"Amen to that, Brother," Ezra offered.



*******



It was late evening when the phone rang and Josiah picked it up, his expression paling as he heard the familiar female voice on the other end. "Miz Nettie..."



The other men looked up at the mention of the older woman's name. The woman was overly fond of Vin and, in their own grief, none of them had thought to call her, or Mary Travis for that matter. Josiah wasn't even sure if anyone had called the judge.



"I wanna speak to Chris Larabee," Nettie minced no words, her tone brittle-edged.



"I'm sorry, Chris is rather...indisposed," Josiah stated. "Is there something I could help you with?" he offered, trying to soothe her somewhat ruffled tone. How the hell was he going to tell her the young man she'd taken under her wing and come to think of as a son, had been killed? Murdered by mistake. Cut down in the prime of his life by someone wanting revenge against Chris.



"I wanna chew that man's ass out! What right does he have keepin' things from me? Resent not being told like I'm some ol' bat who can't handle bad news. I've had more bad news in my day than all you combined. Got half a mind to bring my Spencer carbine out there and fill all your asses full a buckshot!"



"Excuse me, Miz Wells?" Josiah interrupted her full blown tirade. "What ..what are you talking about?"



"'Bout Vin Tanner! What did you think I was talkin' about?" she stormed and he could just picture the ire in her eyes and in her stance as she clutched the phone in a strangle hold, praying it was Larabee's neck instead.



Josiah's tone went soft. "Vin?" The lowly uttered word drew the other's attention to him. Had the story broken on the news? No one had been in the mood to turn the television on. Piss poor way for the woman to find out about Tanner's death. "What do you know about Vin?"



"I know that poor boy's been in a heap of trouble and I thought one of you'd at least have the decency to let his friends know."



Josiah shook his head. They had told no one of the circumstances and there was no way she could have gotten word from the police. "Miz Nettie, how do you know Vin's in trouble?"



"Well, hell, preacher man, ain't laying here in the hospital half dead trouble?"



Josiah's blue gray eyes widened, muscles trembling, his legs refusing to hold his weight, the ex-preacher sank into the nearest chair, praying he'd heard her correctly. "Would you repeat that, ma'am?"



"I didn't know you were deaf, Josiah! I said that poor boy's laying half dead over here in the hospital and none of you have even been to check on him!" She snorted, "And you call yourselves his friends..."



"Vin's...in...the...hospital..." He repeated slowly and distinctly.



Buck, eyes wide, spun and ran to pound on Chris' door. "Open up, Pard! We got good news!"



"Go the fuck away, Buck!" Larabee's voice growled.



"Chris, Nettie's on the phone....Vin's at the hospital...he's ALIVE! Ya hear me...ali--"



The door flew open and Chris rushed down the hall, snatching the phone from Josiah's hand. "Nettie? Nettie, what the hell you talkin about?" he demanded.



"Damnit, Chris Larabee, how dare you call yourself this young man's friend and not even show up to check on him!" she sailed into him.



"Vin's there...?" he questioned in disbelief.



Something in his tone finally caught her attention. "You didn't know?"



"No, ma'am...but we're on our way. We'll be there in forty--make that thirty minutes. Tell Vin...tell Vin we're on our way..." He was already moving for the door a smile on his face, the other men on his heels.



Buck turned to Ezra, shaking his head, "I don't know how Vin does it."



"What's that, Mister Wilmington?"



"That boy can take Chris from the deepest pit of despair to the highest mountain.... I just don't know how he does it."



"Perhaps it does not matter how, but suffices that he simply does," Ezra pointed out.



Buck turned from climbing in his truck to study the con man's face. "Ya know, Ez, I don't know how you knew...."



"Suffice that I was correct." With a two fingered salute to an imaginary hat, and a bright smile, Ezra slid into his vehicle and followed the others out the lane.



*******



The six men blew into the hospital ER like a Texas whirlwind, stopping only when they came within range of Nettie Wells.



The fierce stubborn woman, who had taken Vin under her wing, and grudgingly accepted the others because of him, stood with her arms folded across her chest, her eyes steely as she stared down the six men.



"Well, it took you damn well long enough," she groused.



"Where is he? Where's Vin?" Chris demanded, starting around the woman, intending on asking at the desk.



"Hold on, Larabee!" She reached out grabbing his arm, her tone as firm as her grip.



Chris spun, eyeing the hand which retained its grasp on him. The other men exchanged looks, knowing a wise person did not butt heads with Larabee when he was in this kind of mood.



"Y'all honestly didn't know he was here?" she questioned, studying Larabee's face.



Chris shook his head. "Swear to God, Nettie. We'd known, we'd a been here, you know that." He stared her straight in the eye, not backing down from the truth.



She read that and nodded. "Thought it was strange none of ya was lurkin' about, 'specially him bein' so bad..." she trailed off with a catch in her voice.



It was Buck who approached and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "How...what's happened, Nettie? How did he get here?" he questioned softly.



She lifted her chin. "I'll tell ya, but you boys go check on him first." She nodded down the hall. "He's in ICU."



Josiah and Nathan exchanged troubled looks. Intensive Care. That was not a good sign. The six men quietly moved down the hallway, stopping outside the glass partition which marked ICU. A nurse approached and asking for Vin, she gave them a small smile and said only one could enter at a time.



Without hesitation, Chris stepped forward and followed her to a cubicle on the far side of the unit. She motioned to her watch, and held up three fingers, letting him know he only had three minutes as he nodded and stepped inside.



His hazel eyed gaze immediately jumped to the figure on the bed. His breath caught and he swallowed hard as he stepped closer, sidling past all the equipment crowded about the bed. If not for the long wavy hair, he would have given second thoughts to it being Vin Tanner.



This man was brutally beaten, his scruffy face swollen and darkened with contusions. His left arm was immobilized and Chris couldn't see what further damage was hidden beneath the light blanket pulled up around the man's bruised chest. Cuts and abrasions were visible on his hands and arms..... several had been stitched., others stained with antibiotic.



An nasal canula hissed oxygen, an IV was steadily plopping, and a heart monitor beeped its steady rhythm. Chris stepped closer, gently reached out trembling fingers to touch the younger man's arm. There was no response and he drew in a deep breath.



"Vin...." he whispered, breath hitching as he realized this retribution should have been his, not the gentle man lying in the bed. Upshaw had been after him, and just like the store clerk, Vin had been an innocent bystander to the family's violence.



"I'm sorry, Vin.... didn't know..... but I'm here now..." he murmured.



The nurse tapped on the glass and he lightly squeezed the injured man's arm. "Be back... promise I'll be back...." he vowed as with a last look, he slowly moved from the room.



He cornered the nurse the minute he stepped from the room. "What's wrong with him?" he demanded.



She gave him a soft look. "A gunshot wound to the lower left side, with severe blood loss. A dislocated left shoulder, a broken right leg, three broken ribs, a punctured lung, numerous bruises, and abrasions...." She broke off. "He's very lucky to be alive."



"His condition?"



"He's stable. Holding his own." She turned as Buck sidled by and catching his arm, she firmly stated, "Three minutes..."



Wilmington gave her a smile and slipped on by, and each of the others followed in turn, checking the young sharpshooter for themselves. Ezra was the last and he was quiet and pale as he left the room to join the other five who were gathered around Nettie in the waiting room.



The woman looked up as Ezra entered, and with a nod, spoke, "Good, you're all here. Don't wanna have to repeat myself." She nodded to Chris. "He said ya all didn't know. That right?" As one, they all nodded. "Well, guess I can forgive ya then. Vin, now, that's another story, though I doubt he's noticed your absence."



"How did you know he was here, Nettie?" Buck questioned softly.



"I volunteer here on weekends, helping out. Well, Sally, one of the nurses in the ER ran into me when I came in today and said there was a young John Doe admitted first thing this morning. I didn't see why she was telling me and really wasn't listening until she mentioned one of the EMTs said the only sound he had made was to call out for '"Chris...'"



That named person's eyes dropped to the floor and his shoulders sagged.



Nettie went on. "She described him and I just knew it was that poor boy. Sure enough...."



"How'd he get here? Who brought him in?" Nathan asked.



"He was choppered in by the EMTs"



Chris shook his head. "But how did they find him?"



"Ya know Bob Riley, lives over 'bout twenty, twenty-five miles west of Larabee?" When Chris was the only one to nod, she continued, her eyes on the other men. Nettie knew how much Vin meant to him, to all of them and it was painful seeing the hurt, confusion and guilt on the blonde's handsome face. "His place angles into the forest further up the mountain than your place. Well, his cows got out and he went out horseback to search for them after the rain stopped. Fence was down, so he followed 'em up into the park land. He saves his gazing rights for later in the year. Anyway, he was riding down one of them hauling roads and saw something along side of the road. Weren't something....."



"Vin..." Ezra breathed out softly.



"Yer right, Mister Fancy." Nettie was surprised by Ezra's pale complexion. The gambler looked as if he were going to be ill. He obviously hadn't guessed at the severity of Tanner's injuries. "Seems someone near beat that poor boy to death and dumped him over the side of the ravine. Riley said it was a good fifty foot drop. Somehow, that boy, battered as he was, managed to drag himself back up to the road...." she shook her head as her voice trailed off, still disbelieving what she knew to be true. "Ol' Bob saw how bad he was and had to leave him there to go call for help."



Chris' eyes darkened and his heart broke at the thought of Vin lying hurt and alone along the road, waiting for...waiting for he knew not what. If Upshaw's relatives had come back....there was no doubt in his mind they would have finished what they had started..... He closed his eyes, guilt swamping him.



"When the EMTs arrived, Bob took them out there and they tended him as best they could and then transported him to where the med-chopper could pick him up." She eyed Larabee, "This got something to do with one of them cases you're always working on that he won't talk about?"



Chris shook his head. "No...."



"How'd he come to get caught up in this fix then? Know he ruffled some feather before he joined up with you all, but didn't think none of them would come after him like this."



"Weren't after Vin, Miss Nettie. They's after Chris," JD pointed out, not seeing the flash of guilt and hurt which streaked through Larabee's eyes.



She huffed out a breath. "I'd say he's one helluva friend, Larabee." But seeing the blond man's expression she instinctively realized it was something he already knew.



Ducking his head, Chris moved from the room, leaving them to stare after him. JD looked at Buck. "You gonna go after him?"



Buck shook his head. "No, Kid. This is something Chris's gotta work through himself. Him and Vin." He knew the circumstances by which the younger man had left the ranch were weighing heavily on his old friend. He just prayed Larabee wouldn't crawl back into a bottle to find his peace. That was a circumstance he'd fight to his last breath. Not only for Chris but for Vin as well. Buck knew Tanner would never recover from the guilt of believing he was responsible for once more sending Larabee down that drunken path of self destruction.



*******



The nurse looked up from her chart and frowned. "You shouldn't be in here, sir." she reprimanded. "We'll keep you posted on Mister Tanner's condition."



"I'll stay," Chris uttered stubbornly.



"Sir, there are hospital rules--"



His hazel eyes flashed green fire. "Fuck yer rules! I ain't leavin'!"



"Sir! I--"



He glared at her, daring her to force him to leave. Shaking her head, she moved out to the desk and was reaching for the phone to call security when a big hand came down on hers, keeping the phone in its cradle.



"He needs to stay," the deep voice rumbled and she looked up into the gray haired man's face. "Brother Chris and Vin...well, truth to tell, Chris needs to be there and Vin needs to know he's there."



She shook her head. "Mister Tanner is unconscious and has no idea who is in there," she pointed out.



"Oh, Vin knows......He knows." He removed his hand. "Chris ain't gonna do anything, but sit in there... maybe talk. You don't need to be calling security to take him out. I promise you he'd raise a fuss like you ain't ever seen before. Best to just let him be."



She studied for a moment, then nodded slowly, "Only for my watch. Next shift may kick him out," she promised.



"We'll worry about them when the time comes." Giving her a small smile of thanks, he moved back to the waiting room where the others were scattered about.



JD was flipping through the dozen or so available channels on the small wall mounted TV. Buck was sprawled on the sofa, head tilted back, eyes closed. Nathan was reading a several months old medical bulletin, Ezra was absently shuffling his ever present deck of cards.



Nettie was still there, sipping at a cup of coffee Buck had retrieved from a machine down the hall. She gained her feet as Josiah entered the room.



"There any change?" she questioned, drawing the other men's attention to the ex-preacher.



He shook his head. "No, but he ain't gettin' no worse so I guess that's a good sign."



"Where'd Chris go?" JD questioned, abandoning the TV.



"He's in with Vin....Nurse tried to throw him out."



"Pray tell, when is her funeral?" Ezra drawled, eliciting a small laugh from the others.



"Well, she's still on her feet and he's still in there, so......"



"It appears our Mister Larabee has won again." Ezra murmured.



*******



Evening dragged into night. If the hours had passed slowly waiting for news of Vin, the time in the hospital inched by even slower. The shift changed and Josiah again talked the newly arrived nurses into letting Chris remain in Vin's room. Even though the other five wanted to stay by the young sharpshooter's side, they knew it was more important for both men's sake that Chris did.



To the others' surprise, Ezra volunteered to drive Miz Nettie home and after much debating, pointing out she had been there all day and they would contact her immediately with any news, the woman finally consented and left with the con man.



Nettie had sensed this was the con man's way of helping his friend. Ezra knew how Vin felt about the older woman. In many ways she'd become the mother he'd lost so long ago and he was the son she'd never had. She was well aware of the fact the gambler had trouble expressing his true emotions often falling back on the image people perceived him to be. Insuring her safe arrival home was Ezra's way of aiding the young Texan and perhaps his way of reassuring himself. She knew Standish wouldn't leave the hospital if he let himself believe Tanner wasn't going to be all right.



The waiting room was oddly quiet without the incessant shuffling of Ezra's cards and, sweet talking some blankets and pillows from the nurses, the men settled in for the long haul, on the sofa, in the chairs and on the floor.



*******



Ezra returned to find them sprawled about the room, and not wishing to listen to JD's snoring, he moved out into the hallway, surprised to see Larabee standing just up the way. He quietly approached, "Mister Larabee? Is Mister Tanner--?"



"Vin's fine. I-I just needed to stretch my legs for a minute," Chris offered. "I was just headed back."



"Perhaps you would like coffee?" Ezra unaccustomedly offered, motioning towards the vending machine a short ways up the hall. "It is almost as awful as that concoction Mister Tanner brews," he warned.



Chris nodded with a grimace, accepting the cup and sipping at the steaming liquid. "Nettie still here?"



"No, Mister Wilmington talked her into going home to rest."



Chris nodded. "That's good." He took another sip of the coffee. "Need to get back." He pitched the remainder of the coffee into the trash and headed back up the hall to ICU.



Ezra followed him. "Mister Larabee?" The older man turned to him. "You don't have to do this alone. You aren't the only one concerned for Mister Tanner's well being."



Hazel eyes flashed. "No, I'm just the one responsible." Shaking his head, he moved on into the ICU room, leaving Ezra to stare after him.



*******



Chris sat in the dimly lit room, absently listening to the sounds of the medical equipment and watching the chest rise and fall with the injured tracker's breathing. His gaze moved up to the battered face and flickered over it, taking in the dark bruises and cuts. It hit him how young Tanner looked.



Hell, he realized, Vin was young. Sometimes he forgot the sharpshooter wasn't much older than JD, but with a steadfastness and worldly knowledge, learned by living far too much for his years, Vin appeared at time to be as old as Chris himself. It was most noticeable in the man's azure eyes... eyes which had seen more hurt and sorrow in his few years than any man had the right to suffer.



As that thought sank in, Larabee recalled the conversation which had sent Vin riding off alone. Of his elusive hunt for someplace to call home, someplace to belong, someplace were he could trust and be trusted, a place to be himself..... A place Vin thought he had found here in Four Corners. A place Chris had so wantonly destroyed in one besotted outburst.



Chris' eyes darkened as he mentally recalled the hunched shoulders and the muttered 'ain't nothin nohow'



He wondered how many times Vin had had to utter that in his lifetime. How many times things which did matter were shrugged off with 'it ain't nothin nohow'.....Hell, he had even tried to pass off Chris' outburst...an outburst which had wounded him deeply. 



Well, Larabee, Chris decided, maybe it's time something did matter....... Gaining his feet, the older man moved to the bed side. Reaching out he brushed the long sun lightened hairs from the sharpshooter's forehead and with a whispered... "Sorry, pard..." he slipped from the room.



*******



Vin was resting easier. Josiah, taking the graveyard shift, stretched and yawned as he stepped out into the hallway. He'd drunk way too much coffee and urgently moved for the rest room. He slipped into Vin's room on his way back. The nurses just gave him a patient smile, having come to realize it was easier all the way around to let the big man do what he wanted than confront him and oddly enough his friends' appearance seemed to have somehow calmed the injured man.



The man's blue gray eyes searched the room, taking in the empty bedside chair. He frowned, knowing he'd not seen Larabee in the rest room or hallway. It wasn't like Chris to leave Vin's side knowing how the sharpshooter had a tendency to panic when waking up in a hospital. Maybe like himself, Larabee hadn't needed to stretch his legs and perhaps stepped outside to get some air.



The preacher was turning to slip out, intending to find Larabee, when he heard a sharp gasp from Tanner. Knowing the nurses were watching the monitors, he stepped up beside the bed.



Vin was beginning to regain consciousness, moving his head and fighting the medical lines and tubes.



Josiah laid a gentle hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Easy, brother. It's all right. Don't fight it, Vin. It's okay..." he soothed, the deep voice reaching through the lawyers of fog. Vin calmed as a nurse rushed into the room to check on him.



Josiah gave her a small smile. "He's coming round."



She nodded, moving up on the other side of the bed to check the patient for herself. "Mister Tanner?" she called his name and Vin moved his head slightly in her direction. "That's right...you're doing fine." she coaxed, dragging him further from the comforting fog which had enveloped him.



His eyelids fluttered and groggy blue eyes slitted. "'his?" he rasped out.



The nurse looked to Josiah with a frown and he translated, "Chris....he's asking for Chris." Bending closer, he spoke softly, "Brother Chris ain't here right now, Vin, but he'll be back. You just stay calm and rest easy..."



"'hris..." the injured man persisted, hoarsely whispering the word. "C'ris..." he demanded stubbornly, his eyes widening, pleading silently with the ex-profiler.



Josiah hesitated, then softly, he uttered, "Rest easy, Vin. we'll find him." Motioning to the nurse, he turned away from Vin and spoke lowly, "Go get the others." She gave him a look, started to shake her head, then sighing heavily, she hurried from the room.



Within minutes, the others were gathered in the small room, in various stages of sleepiness. Only Ezra looked wide awake and unwrinkled.



Josiah spoke softly so Vin could not hear. "Any of ya see Chris?" Four heads shook and he ran a hand through his gray hair. "Scatter out, see if ya can find him. Tell him Vin's asking for him."



Ezra spoke up, "I do not believe we shall find our esteemed leader on the premises."



They all turned to look at him as he slowly continued. "An hour ago, I stepped out for a breath of air...I can't be certain as I only glimpsed the tail lights but I believe it was Mr. Larabee's vehicle I saw leaving the parking lot."



"What?" Buck exclaimed, "Why would he leave? He say anything to any of ya?" At their negative response, he shook his head, "Chris wouldn't just walk out....not on Vin."



Ezra cleared his throat, loathe to tread in private matters but under the circumstances... "I believe Mister Larabee was experiencing more than his measure of responsibility for Mister Tanner's condition. Perhaps he needed time to think."



"Maybe yer right, but it ain't like him," Buck persisted.



"All we can do is keep Vin calm until he returns." Nathan pointed out.



"If he returns," Ezra murmured drawing looks of anger and puzzlement from the others.



"I'll stay here with Vin," Josiah agreed, ignoring Ezra's remark. Unlike the others, he understood what the con man was thinking. Under normal circumstances Chris wouldn't have left Tanner's side until he was certain the ex-bounty hunter was on the road to recovery. These were not normal circumstances. Like Buck, Josiah and Ezra realized something had happened between the two friends. Something that was tearing Chris apart. Larabee seemed to be dealing with an extraordinary amount of guilt and they could only pray that guilt didn't drive him back into a bottle. "Y'all go looking anyway."



Scattering, the men moved out of the room and Josiah settled back beside the injured man's bed, thankful Vin had drifted off again.



*******



Leaving the hospital, Chris drove the truck hard, the high beams cutting through the dusky light of dawn. He had made only one stop and his lone purchase was in a brown bag on the passenger seat. He drove with single minded intent, passing the turn off to his place and driving on.



The sun was up when he pulled into the long lane and eased the truck to a stop by a wooden fenced corral. A man feeding the penned stock looked up as Chris climbed out and waited. Dusting his hands, the rancher approached, a border collie at his side, eyeing the stranger with bright blue eyes.



"You Riley?" Chris questioned and the man nodded. "Name's Larabee." He offered his hand and it was firmly shaken.



"You own that spread back up the highway a piece, don't ya?" the balding man questioned as he leaned against the F250's fender, his fingers absently rubbing the collie's ears as it sat beside him.



Chris nodded. "Understand you had some excitement out here yesterday morning."



Riley nodded. "If ya wanna call it that." He studied the lean blond man with a knowing eye. "You're that Chris that boy was asking for, ain't ya?"



Chris blinked in surprise, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess I am." Man was damn observant.



"How's he doin? Was plannin' to call the hospital and check on him." The rancher leaned against the truck studying the man before him, seeing the haggard lines in his handsome face. It was plain this Larabee was fighting some powerful demons.



"Doctors say he's gonna make it, thanks to you."



"Didn't do nothing but call for help. Good to know he's got family to help him through."



The blond extended his hand. "Wanted to thank you for everything."



The man straightened, gripping the offered hand. "And you're wanting to see where I found him."



Again, blinking in surprise, Chris could only nod.



"I'll show ya, but can you follow me up? I gotta run into town and get feed and hate to double back."



Chris nodded, climbing back into his truck as the man moved to his, letting the dog jump into the truck first, Riley started the vehicle and drove out, Chris following.



*******



It was a good ten miles before the rancher pulled over and waited for Chris to do the same. Damn! They'd been so close! Vin had been this close to home and they hadn't been able to find him.



Climbing from the truck, he approached the man standing on the side of the road. "This is where I found him. All covered with mud and blood, soaked to the skin from the rain. You can see that drop off. Don't know how the hell he managed to climb back up here. Thought sure he was dead..." he trailed off, seeing the anguished expression on Larabee's pale face.



Chris had moved to the edge and looking down, he could see the slip and slid marks still imbedded in the muddy soil where his friend had struggled to pull himself up. His breath caught. How long had it taken him?



He looked at Riley, chewing his lip. "Lucky you happened along," he admitted, his voice low.



Riley nodded. "Just damn lucky them cows getting out and me riding up here. Course it was shorter on horseback, but still... Broke my heart to just leave that poor boy lying here while I went to call for help. Covered him with my jacket coz he was shivering so bad. EMT's said it was shock and blood loss. He was semiconscious, kept muttering for Chris... I thought maybe someone else was hurt down there, but guess he was just calling for you."



"Yeah," Chris whispered, looking away, unable to shake that abandoned hurt figure from his mind.



The man glanced at his watch. "I gotta go. You find your way outta here?" At Chris' nod, he bid him good-bye, climbed in his truck with the black and white dog and drove off, leaving Larabee standing by the side of the road.



Larabee finally moved, his eyes searching the area. He saw several strips of bloody bandages and packaging left behind by the EMTs. Hesitating, he moved closer to the edge, looking down. Rocks, small boulders and several trees and scrub bushes dotted the steeply angled dirt wall. Looking closer, he could see the muddied impression of where a body had landed and lain. Vin's body. How long had the tracker been unconscious down there? Worse still, how long had he been aware, hoping against hope Chris or one of his friends would find him? How long before he had given up on that and struggled to climb out on his own?



On his own.....hadn't Vin said he had only himself to rely on? Hadn't it come down to that again because his best friend, the sole person he trusted the most to protect and deliver him, had forsaken him? The friend who had driven him away with cruel bitter heartless words. Hadn't that so called friend been so wrapped up in his own hurtful memories of yesterday, he had forgotten others had suffered in the past as well?



Chris stepped back from the precipice, and slowly sank to his knees, as he continued to stare at the drop off. Hadn't he stood on the very edge of an abyss, prepared to hurl himself off into its bottomless depths, when a longhaired blue eyed, young man with a lopsided smile had salvaged him, pulling him back from that edge? Pulled him back and had continued to keep him from its ominous pull..... and what had Chris done in return? He'd gotten drunk and verbally abused that same young man who had put such undeserved faith in him.



'No one wants you...' The grievous words continued to echo in his mind. Nothing could be further from the truth. Vin Tanner had not only saved his life, he had turned it around, had given him new hope, and he knew at one time or another the sensitive sharpshooter had done the same for the other team members, as well as Nettie and Mary and a multitude of people he never even knew the names of. And yet he had driven the man away.... Overwhelming shame washed over him.



He realized Vin faced his bitter past everyday and didn't run and hide. Not like he chose to do, all because he couldn't face his memories and wanted to drown his yesterdays in a liquor bottle.



And because of that, that young man had nearly died here beside this lonely trail, disposed of there like unwanted garbage by someone who wanted revenge for Larabee's actions in the past. Disposed of.... the words sliced into him as he realized that's what the many foster homes had done to the young Vin Tanner. Dumped him in children's services, abandoning him to whatever the fates would do to the young child. Cast him aside like he was some throw away unwanted garbage... He realized he was doubly to blame for Vin's condition....



Swiping at his eyes, he moved to the truck and reaching inside, removed the purchase he had made earlier. Pulling it out, he walked to the edge and taking a deep breath, he pitched the Jack Daniels bottle into the ravine. He watched it sail out of sight and then heard the sound of it shattering on the rocks far below.



Eaten up with guilt, he had fully intended to consume the bottle, get lost in that oblivion where nothing or no one mattered to him anymore. But he couldn't do it. Not this time. If Vin could face his yesterdays, there was hope for him. Hopefully, he would never again use the bottle as a crutch, but instead, rely on the strength of his friends in those times when he hadn't the strength to face his bitter past alone. Hell, Buck had always been there, and now Vin..... they had both suffered because of his weakness but here and now, he vowed no one else was going to suffer. A self satisfied expression settled on his face and nodding firmly, he turned and climbed back into the truck and headed for the main road.



*******



A long day passed. No one saw Chris and repeated phone calls went unanswered. Buck, with his knowledge of the man said he was off brooding and would return when he was damn good and ready. Larabee needed to get his head together before he faced his friend, but the others were concerned he had not even bothered to check in on Vin's condition.



The five men made it a point to be with Tanner as the man regained consciousness. It had been a puzzle to them that a man who was afraid of nothing, not even Chris Larabee, went ballistic each time he became aware in a hospital. They had passed around thoughts and theories, most pertaining to a bad experience in his childhood but of them, only Ezra would not hazard a guess. There was no need for he had a good perception of Tanner's reasons.



Unlike the other men, he and Tanner were the ones thrown on their own as children. While it was true Ezra had Maude, the woman was never there when he needed her and knowing Tanner's mother had died when he was young, he had no doubt experienced what it was like to become cognizant in a foreign place, surrounded by total strangers. The other men had had their mothers to soothe and allay their childish fears, but he never had Maude and Tanner never had his mother.... It was too strong an emotional wound to be easily forgotten.



And due to that understanding, the suave con man now sat beside the sharpshooter, quietly reading the Wall Street Journal as he kept one eye on the quietly resting man in the bed. Tanner had become more lucid, but was in a great deal of pain. The nurses had sedated him, much to the young man's displeasure. He had fought them and it had taken both Buck and Josiah to calm him until the sedative took affect.



"..here's......hris?"



Standish had not been aware the man was fully conscious and with a start he looked up to see slitted blue eyes studying him. He slowly folded the newspaper on its proper creases and sighed. "I'm afraid Mister Larabee has departed the premises." He saw no reason to lie.



"Why?" Vin choked out the one word, his blue eyes wounded.



"I fear you will have to pose that question to Mister Larabee himself, when he returns." Ezra stated, moving to offer the young man a drink from the glass on the night stand. "However, if I were to hazard a guess, I would have to say he's trying to decide what to say to you. Knowing Mister. Larabee as well as you do, it has probably occurred to you that our esteemed leader is blaming himself for your present condition."



Vin greedily sucked at the straw, draining the cold water, his eyes opening wider to stare at Ezra who hovered over him. The water had soothed his throat and his voice was stronger. "Don't need a baby-sitter, Ez," he muttered as the con man returned the glass to its place and turned to fluff the pillow. "This bein' a hospital, there's nurses a plenty...." he pointed out drolly.



"So there is," Ezra stated, leaning back to study the sharpshooter. "Shall I call one?"



Vin shook his head. "Hell, no. All that damn fussin.... Worse than Nathan."



Standish smiled. Only the shy young sharpshooter would be perturbed by pretty women fussing over him.



"How are you feeling?" he queried, watching the man's face.



Vin attempted to shrug, realized it was not possible and with an angry scowl, muttered, "I been better." He settled back, the scowl still etched on his face. "Where's Chris?" he demanded again.



Ezra sighed heavily. Mister Tanner took the game of Twenty Questions to a whole new level, getting hung up on only one. "I believe our illustrious leader went out for a breath of fresh air."



"Why?"



Ezra shifted back in the hard seat, seeing the long haired man as a stubborn five year old with only one thing on his mind. He knew the young tracker, even in his present state could read him like a book. "I believe Mister Larabee was upset at his failure to protect you."



"Aw, hell, Ez...."



"If you will permit me, the man was excessively disquieted at his inability to locate you, and I sense that failure is weighing heavy on him."



"How'd ya find me?"



"Unfortunately we didn't.....We were at a loss when Upshaw was killed--" Ezra began only to be cut off.



"Killed?" Tanner interrupted, straightening slightly.



Ezra nodded. "We located the vehicle.." Seeing confusion on the man's face, he digressed. "We discerned you had been seized from the old farmstead when the horse returned without you."



"Sneaky bastards shot me from ambush. Never even saw 'em," the tracker admitted, with a slight flush of embarrassment. If he hadn't been so upset, it never would have happened.



"We trailed them into the national forest and several hikers had observed their passage, and a ranger had seen the vehicles. An APB was issued and local enforcement spotted the truck downtown. When we arrived, the men chose to make a run for it and were killed."



"And y'all didn't know where I was...." Vin finished.



"Upshaw, with his dying words informed Chris you were dead."



A look of pain flickered across Tanner's face. "Well, I ain't dead," he reiterated stubbornly.



"No, indeed, you are not. However, while I myself never believed for an instant you had passed on to the other realm, I fear that insecurity only served to unsettle Mister Larabee."



"He worries too much," Vin muttered lowly.



"I am forced to agree with you, sir, especially where you are concerned." Vin gave him a dark look, not understanding. "Our Mister Larabee is concerned for the well being of each of his team members, but for reasons known only to him, he has placed far more consideration upon you. Perhaps because you have no other family, he feels it has fallen upon him."



"Don't need no fierce scowlin' sonuvabitch heapin all his concern on me... " Vin snarled. "Been lookin' after my ownself for more years than I can remember."



"Then perhaps," Ezra offered softly, "it is time you share that burden with someone else."



Vin gave him a glare which rivaled any of Larabee's and the gambler returned it with a small smile. "You need more practice, Mister Tanner. I'm not quite shaking in my shoes."



"Hell......." Vin shook his head.



"Is there some reason you do not wish Mister Larabee's solicitude?" he pressed, sensing an unfamiliar reluctance in the younger man.



The events at the farmstead, prior to Upshaw's actions flooded back on the longhaired man. no body wants you....' echoed in his mind and he looked away. "Just don't want it," he muttered crossly.



Ezra, who had based his life and livelihood on reading people and understanding their motivation, sensed something was wrong. Not wanting to pry into the friendship between their leader and the young tracker, he nonetheless knew being at odds was not doing either of them any good and he surmised that was why Chris had left, rather than face the sharpshooter.



"Sometimes," he spoke softly, "we do not require the concern of others, but we acquiesce because it gives the other person a sense of worth and of being needed."



Sharp blue eyes stared at him. "Ya saying I should just let Chris mollycoddle me and keep my mouth shut?"



"Perhaps mollycoddle is too strong a word, Mister Tanner, but allowing Mister Larabee to be concerned for you is no sin. Nor is it a weakness. He feels strong brotherly regard for you, and it is only right a brother experiences worry. Are you not at times equally concerned for his welfare?" A flicker of pain washed fleetingly over the gambler's face. He would give his fortune to have someone care that strongly for him.



Vin toyed with the frayed edge of the blanket, not looking at the gambler. "Said he didn't need me,....said he didn't want me 'round......said no body did," he admitted so low the gambler had to strain to hear the words. Pained blue eyes arose to meet green ones. "Why'd he do that, Ez?"



His tone was that of a little boy, not understanding why he was not chosen for the kickball team, of a little boy left out and ignored, over looked and abandoned.



Ezra's eyes softened, "I assume that was why you fled the house?" A slight nod and he went on, choosing his words with care. "Mister Larabee can be extremely tactless, I think because he gave up caring what or how people think of him, but he is even more so when he is intoxicated. I am sure if he had been sober, he would not have been so unkind."



"I know that, but..." Vin drawled softly.



"He is a caring man, Mister Tanner." Standish smiled sadly. "He's allowing himself to feel again and unfortunately that means feeling and reacting to the sorrow of his loss on such days as his son's birthday...His anniversary and other landmark occasions. 



Ezra realized Larabee's words had wounded the Texan deeply. There was a streak of integrity in the longhaired man which he would never fathom. A rectitude he envied for he had never known it before he had joined this group. Perhaps because he was closer to Vin than the others, he saw it more in the man, and like Larabee had a hard time understanding how a man raised as Tanner was had came to have such high standards, such caring, such concern....



"I wish you could have seen his face when Nettie called to chew his ass out for not telling her about your predicament. If his belief that you were dead had been true, nothing Nettie or anyone could have said or done to punish him would have been a fraction of what he was putting himself through. Surely you know, Vin," he used the man's given name so rarely, Tanner centered all his attention on him, "there is nothing you could do or say to Mister Larabee which would wound him more than he is already experiencing himself. Guilt is a hard taskmaster."



Tanner mulled over the Southerner's words and finally gave a short nod. "Reckon you're right at that, Ezra." He was quiet for several long minutes, then yawning, he spoke, "Ya reckon he'll be back?"



"I'm quite sure as soon as he comes to his senses," Ezra uttered with a small smile.



Vin returned it with a lopsided one of his own as he shifted down in the bed,



"That might take forever," he drawled adding, "Ya be sure and wake me when he does." he warned as he closed his eyes.



"Wild horses will not stop me, Mister Tanner." Ezra assured him, turning again to his newspaper, a satisfied smile on his handsome face as the sharpshooter succumbed to sleep.



*******



Chris made a stop at his farmhouse, moving with purpose. With a small self-satisfied smile, he removed the object from the wall and carrying it out to the dining room, he carefully placed it on the table. Pulling a legal pad closer, he gathered a pen and quickly wrote down the lines which he had composed on the drive from Riley's. Placing the one item in a paper bag, he taped the legal lined paper to the outside, and departed.



Slipping down the quiet hallway, Chris moved to ICU. He pulled up short at the sight of the empty room and for a moment his heart dropped into his boots. Oh God was he too late? The doctor said Vin was going to be all right! What had gone wrong?! Had he failed his friend again?



Frantically looking about, he spotted a nurse and hurrying to her, he grabbed her arm."Where's Tanner? Where's Vin?" He motioned to the empty room.



"Oh, Mister Tanner. He improved and they moved him to a private room. I think it's room two fourteen. It's up a level."



The words were barely out her mouth before Chris was striding towards the elevators.



On the second floor, he followed the arrows, frowning. He would have thought the other team members would be lurking about the halls, but there was no sign of any of his group. His frowned deepened as he quietly pushed open the door to room two fourteen. Other than the sleeping patient, it was empty.



Chewing his lip, he placed his package on the bed table and turned to go, pulling up short as five bodies blocked the doorway. He held a finger to his lips, motioning to Vin and quietly slipped by them, hit by a barrage of questions once the door had closed behind him.



*******



Vin slowly awoke, the room coming into blurry focus. He could hear familiar voices in the hallway beyond and looking around, realized he was in a different room. With the bed situated near the window, he could look down on a small enclosed park and he let out a long deep sigh. Moving around trying to make himself more comfortable, he bumped the stand and looking, saw a brown paper bag.



Frowning he reached out his good arm and pulled the note free. Awkwardly unfolding it, he read the familiar handwriting which lined the yellow page.



'"Sarah always said home was that one place that caught you when you fell. Adam said home just was. I always said home was where you could go when you couldn't go anywhere else..... Guess maybe we were all right..... but Vin, always remember, when you've got no place else to go, someone will always be waiting for you to come home..."'



He laid the note aside and pulled the bag closer, struggling to remove the item within. As the paper fell away, he began blinking rapidly and touched the framed glass with trembling fingers.



Beneath the glass was a five year old child's drawing, carefully transferred onto Aida cloth and lovingly cross-stitched. A childish rendition of a house with crooked drawn walls. Beneath the slanted roof, a huge red heart on which was scrawled four letters filled the center. In one corner was stitched the childish scrawled name "Adam" and in the other a delicate feminine "Sarah."



Vin's eyes misted. He had seen this framed piece at the old farmhouse more times than he could recall hanging on the wall beside Chris' desk. A small part of him marveled and the tears welled as he realized no matter the past, no matter all the bitter, hopeless, lost yesterdays of his life, here and now, Chris was giving him a home.


THE END