By Jean D.

Disclaimer:  I do not own any of the men. 

For purposes of this story, I put Four Corners just northwest of Las Cruces New Mexico.  Silver City is a town but even after searching the web, I cannot find when it was built.  Therefore, I am making things up here.  There is also mention of the Black Range Mountains.

The stagecoach struck another gopher hole in the road, and Slim Jenson bounced nearly out of his seat.  He slipped from one side to the other and just as the old man righted himself, he was thrown to the other side. 

"Damn it, Joe do you have to go so fast?"  The aging patron called out the window.  "I'm getting bumped to pieces in here."

The driver spat a wad of tobacco juice, and Slim ducked back just in time to avoid being hit as Joe yelled down, "We're almost there.  I reckon the horses smell that cold beer, cause it's all I can do to hold 'em back." 

The old man chuckled at that, thinking of the saloon and enjoying a cold one too, until his thoughts turned to the reason he was on his way to Four Corners. 

His sister, Patsy and her husband, Jess, had come to the wilds of lower West New Mexico back in the 40's.  Here they had carved out a home for themselves.  A nice place backed up against the foothills of the Black Range Mountains; at first, they tried their hand at mining, but too many men with more guns and lots of money, scooped up the active sites.  It was then that Jess came up with the idea of ranching; they would provide the beef for the miners and other settlers in the area.

They lived through the War Between the States, fought off rustlers and Indians alike.  In the early 70's things had settled down and it seemed as if life would get back to normal for the middle-aged couple.  Slim had made several trips from Texas for a visit in the last years, his much younger sister had bloomed in the rugged New Mexico Territory.

This last telegram from his sister was marked urgent.  He read the missive for what felt like the hundredth time.

Slim Jenson stop Jess murdered stop please come soon stop Patsy

The older man knew from his visits, that the big mining outfits owned what passed for the local law around Silver City.  He was determined to help his little sister find out who was responsible for this travesty.  First, he would appeal to his old friend Orrin Travis for some assistance, thus the stop in Four Corners.

Chris moved down the boardwalk toward the Standish Tavern, the sounds of men's voices and women's laughter told him that there was a full house tonight.  All he wanted was a bottle and a table in the back to drink it, maybe a little quiet time.

It had been a hellish week, drovers in off the range; one group had tried to run their steers right through the middle of town.  JD took a stray bullet in the shoulder and was lucky it passed straight through.  The cowboy, who had waived his gun around drunkenly, received a hole in his hand from Buck's gun, leaving two men for Nathan to patch up.

Ezra, caught up in the excitement of fresh money in town, was ever ready to accept any and all to test his skills. In spite of the gamblers seemingly distracted state, the gunslinger was confident that the younger peacekeeper would be ready to defend the town if called upon.  

Chris stopped outside the swinging doors, and looked back toward the Church; Josiah would most likely be there now.  The former preacher still put most of his free time into his flock, many of whom were people passing through and grateful for a peaceful sanctuary. 

Moving through the doors, the press of bodies suddenly moved back, like Moses parting of the sea.  The gunslinger knew it was more than the peacemaker riding high on his hip; it was more the reputation that he had cultivated for the last few years, since losing his family.  The blond did not actively search out death these days, but would not back down from a threat either.

Inez had a bottle and a shot glass ready when he reached the bar.

"Good evening, Senor Larabee." The barmaid offered a friendly smile to the gunslinger.

"Evenin' Inez."  He tipped his head to her in greeting as he turned back to scan the crowded room, looking for an empty table.

Vin Tanner was just leaving the livery when the stage came rolling in from the South.  He threw two bits to Tiny as he passed by the friendly man, intending on a drink at the saloon, then an early night.

It was late summer, the mountain caps still covered with snow, often melting down into the run offs and overflowing the gulches.   During the day it would get hot enough to fry an egg in the dirt, at night, the wind blew cold enough still to warrant a fire.

The longhaired man stopped by the jail to check on Buck.  The cells were full, but none of the prisoners' were hostile, only drunk and disorderly.  The Judge would be on the noon stage tomorrow, hold court at the Grain Exchange and collect the fines before letting these men go back to their droving.

"Bucklin? You in here, pard?" Tanner opened the door cautiously, and then flung it back when he saw the tall man bent over the stove.  "Whatch'a doin'?"   

Buck looked up from his bent position to see the tracker saunter into the room, both hands hooked into the wide gun belt. "Tryin' my best to get this damn stove goin' before it gets too cold in here.  Hey, come give me hand." 

Between the two of them, they cleaned the stovepipe, so the smoke would not back draft into the room. Soon, the little potbelly was throwing out heat and a pot of coffee perking.

Vin stayed for a cup and was ready to leave for that drink at the saloon when Nathan came through the door.

"Hey Vin, Buck."  The healer pored himself some of the fresh brew and then took a seat  

 "How's the kid?" The tracker asked as he stepped up to the door and paused to hear the answer.

Nathan smiled around the rim of his cup, Tanner might have asked the question but the worry was written all over the tall man at the opposite desk.  "He'll do, restin' up at the clinic.  Casey was out to see him fer a bit." 

Vin tipped his hat to the two remaining men and once again headed for that long awaited drink at the saloon.

After a light supper at the Hotel dinning area, Slim settled into a ground floor room at the Ritz.  He was disappointed to find that the Judge was not due in town until tomorrow. 

The older man had sent off a telegraph to his sister letting her know of his pending arrival.  He had purposely left out his hope that he would have company on that trip; he needed to speak to Orrin and obtain his agreement.  

Chris ambled over to the jail intending to relieve either Buck or Nathan.  He'd had a drink or three with Tanner and then sent the younger man to his rest.  The tracker had been solely responsible for riding the outskirts of town, keeping one eye to the newcomers that drove their cattle up from Texas and the other homesteaders that peppered the area. 

It was the late summer rush to get the beeves to market that brought so many new faces to town.  Some of the smaller ranchers drove their heard hundreds of miles hoping to get top beef prices from the military.  The trouble was that the steers were lean after so long on the move and many of them perished on the plains.  Some of the beef would be taken in raids by the Apache Renegades still running loose all over New Mexico and The Texas Panhandle. The Braves tried to stay out of the way of the army but still burned with a fierce hatred for whites and doing everything they could to cause trouble.

The gunslinger shook his head and mumbled "Not my problem for much longer."  Things would get back to a more normal pace once fall set in. Then the peacekeepers would settle back in to their typical routine.

"Ten dollars and time served."  The gavel came down on the table, "Next."  Orrin took a drink of water and waited as Chris Larabee and Buck Wilmington escorted the last prisoner forward.  Once his business here concluded, he was going to have an early super with an old friend. 

The judge had known Slim Jenson for many years; they met in Kansas City, when Orrin moved his young family westward.  Now that same friend was asking for his help and the loan of some of the peacekeepers from Four Corners. 

Orrin's assistance was freely offered, but it was the seven unofficial lawmen that he couldn't speak for.  Those men had stayed, protected the town and survived, despite the obstacles that were often thrown in their path.  Even now, almost two years later, they still stood shoulder to shoulder, protecting each other and those around them.

"Call to order" Judge Travis's gavel came down on the table and the room fell to silence.

The mood was somber outside the jail, as Slim briefly described what brought him to Four Corners; he purposely highlighted his friendship with Orrin, hoping to sway things in his favor.  During dinner last night, he learned that these men were not held by oaths or contracts to this town, it was a matter of their honor after giving their word to stay.  The judge made it clear that he could not force these men to help but would offer his endorsement.

"Sir, if the law is owned by them miners, how are you gonna track down who killed your brother-n-law?"  JD posed the question that was on everyone's mind.

Chris saw the two older men's eyes met briefly, before Judge Travis addressed their tracker.  "Vin, I was hoping I could persuade you to accompany Mr. Jenson.  I know it's asking a lot." He let the question trail off, waiting for the young man to form his decision.

The blond didn't say anything as Vin weighed the request, he did notice Buck shifting to move up behind JD.  The young sheriff watched the sharpshooter intensely, and Larabee knew that the kid would be the first to step up and offer to go.  None of them would let Tanner ride into unknown territory without a friend to back him up.  When Chris looked up, Vin met his eyes, it was at that moment that the gunslinger knew the tracker was going, and therefore the gunslinger would ride with him.

The long lean body came off the wall as the leader of the seven addressed the group.  "Vin and me will go with Mr. Jenson."  He held up his hand at the rumblings of protest that started among the other five.  "Just us two, I ain't gonna argue this with you boys." 

Buck didn't like a plan that separated two of their numbers so far outside town but knew Larabee well enough that there was no changing his mind.

Chris continued, "We'll leave at first light, you'll need someone to take over Vin's patrols outside town and…"  He looked into the too young eyes of their sheriff making sure he had the kid's attention, "You stick with Buck."

Vin rode ahead of the rest, scouting out the lay of the land.  Chris was somewhere behind keeping an eye to their back trail.  The judge and Mr. Jenson were in the stagecoach as it ambled along the old wore pathway.  Orrin would take the route up to Santa Fe and then on to Denver. 

Twenty-four hours later Vin, Chris and Slim passed just outside of Silver City.  Mr. Jenson had hired a horse at the last stop where they parted company with Judge Travis.

"My sister's place is about five miles west of here." The older man took the lead.

Patsy stood on the front porch with her shotgun at her side.  Since she lost her husband a few days before, the middle-aged woman would not let any one past the front gate.  Upon seeing her brother with two strangers, she held onto the gun but went out to meet the small group.

Slim took his sister in a hug, petting the back of her head as she cried softly against his chest.

"Shhh, its ok sissy."  

Vin turned away, uncomfortable with the strong display of emotion.  He looked over at Chris who had a wistful look on his face.

"Whatch'a thinkin' about."  Tanner ventured.

The blond shook his head, "Getting' to business."  In truth, the sad scene playing out in front of him reminded him of being back home in Indiana, and his family there.  Shaking off the direction of his thoughts, he stepped down off his horse as introductions were made.

After much heated discussion, Slim agreed to stay with his sister while Vin and Chris followed the trail of beef that the rustlers had taken when they killed her husband.

"Easy enough to follow."  Vin commented as he tightened the chinch on Peso's saddle. 

Larabee had a bad feeling about this hunting trip; the gang had taken over 100 head of cattle North along the foothills of the Black Range Mountains.  He wasn't as proficient in tracking as Tanner was but the blond knew enough about odds and two against a possible small army were in their favor.

  The Texan found the trail, to hard to hide that many steers. 

The gunslinger watched his friend for the better part of the day, go from saddle to ground, where he would hunker down and break his spyglass out to scan the area.  He was startled out of his musings by the sound of Vin's voice.

"I figure by the look 'a things, there's about eight of 'em."  Swinging back into the saddle the tracker turned Peso back toward the mountain base. 

"How far behind are we?'  Chris was a bit saddle sore from two days on the trail getting to the ranch and then another 8 hours in the saddle today.  The gunslinger wouldn't mind a cup of coffee and a drag off the cheroot tucked in his pocket.  

Tanner looked to the sky, reading the signs in the heavy clouds, the underbelly dark smoky blue.

"No moon tonight, so's we best push on."  He threw a grin over his shoulder at the blond.  "Your old bones gonna make it a few more hours?"

Chris shook his head at the younger man, "These old bones can best anything you can throw out Tanner."

The next morning burned bright after the darkness of the night, Vin poured the last of the coffee over the coals as Chris got his mount ready.

"They're movin' slow, so's we're likely to come up on 'em by late afternoon."  Tanner pulled the rifle out of the boot and checked it one last time, then pulled the mares leg out of his holster doing the same. 

Larabee watched as the Texan pulled the pistol from the bedroll and checked it, he was just waiting to see that wicked blade come out of its sheath to finish the younger man's inspection, but he was disappointed.

Vin was an unusual man, so unlike himself in almost everyway a fella could count.  Chris had been married for many years, and suffered the loss of his family and welcomed death on a daily basis as a way of coping with the pain.  The blond knew that he drank too much, and cared too little.  It was only the last year or so that he felt, less like dying and more like living.  Something that the buckskin clad man riding in front of him helped along more than a little.

Tanner was the calm before a raging storm that was as natural as breathing to Larabee.  Whereas Vin suffered his own grief and grievances in silence, Chris shouted his to the world in every breath and every bold move. 

The only time that the blond had seen Vin's passions' stirred was when a wrong was being done to someone that was helpless to stop it.  Tanner re-acted like a scalded cat, jumping in without thought to how he might suffer.

It was the one thing about his friend that the gunslinger couldn't quiet figure out.  Why the Texan felt so strongly for those less fortunate, something Larabee had not considered in the last few years until he stood by his friend to save Nathan over a year ago.

"Stop wool gathering Chris, if'n it weren't for that stubborn horse of your'n trackin' after Peso, you'd a done been lost." 

Vin knew that Chris had a tendency to fall into long silences and under normal circumstances that was fine with him.  But, it was going on late afternoon and the signs that marked the trail were fresh, less than an hour old.

The echo of a rile shot sent the tracker out of his saddle on the left side of his horse.  His eyes automatically went back to look for Chris, expecting the blond to be heading for cover.  What he saw instead was the gunslinger slumped over the saddle.

Tanner slid his rifle out of the boot and ran toward his injured friend.  He reached up pulling his friend from the saddle with one hand, balanced the firearm across the animal's withers, and started firing toward the direction of the shots. 

Pain seared through his shoulder, made worse by the impact with the ground.  Gritting his teeth, Chris rolled until he was on his knees.

"Throw my rifle down here." 

Tanner didn't take his eyes from the rocks and sagebrush that littered the land around them.  The shots had stopped for now, so he felt relatively safe to move.  Vin handed the firearm down without taking his eyes off the landscape.

"How bad you hurt?"

"Bullet… shoulder… shit that hurts like a son of a bitch."  The blond saw the tracker rock his head in acknowledgment never stopping to look down.

"Ya think you can drag yerself back behind those rocks?"  Vin indicated the cropping of boulders behind them. 

Before Chris could answer or move, more shots were fired from the ridge, sending the injured man stumbling for safety.  Sliding in behind a large boulder, the blond balanced his rifle and started firing hoping it would be enough cover for Tanner to seek safety.

Vin waited until he was sure that Larabee had moved, he hated using the blonds horse for a shield and was glad whoever was shooting at them hadn't decided to put the animal down. 

The Texan reached up and pulled the saddlebags loose, tossing them to land somewhere behind him.  Nathan would have made sure that they had some basic medical supplies and Chris would have some hardtack and jerky for food.  Further, down the trail Peso stood with his head down, teeth pulling at the small mound of sage grass that littered the landscape.  Vin whistled low and long and the big head came up in answer.

By the time Tanner slid in beside his injured friend, the blond was leaning back against a big rock sweat rolling down his face and his chest was heaving.  Chris clenched his teeth together biting back the pain in his shoulder.

Vin uncapped the canteen and put it against the gunslinger’s lips, urging the blond to drink.  "Come on Chris, just a bit."

Tanner cursed himself for leading them into this trap; he should have known that they would have guards posted this far out.  The ravine was a perfect place for an ambush and Vin had led his friend right into the path of the bullet.

Larabee wiped the sweat from his eyes, he knew his friend well enough that the Texan was thinking on all the things he could have done to prevent the injury.  Shaking his head, he reached out and tapped Tanner on the knee.

"How many?" 

Opening the saddlebag, Tanner rummaged around for the medical pack, "Only two at the mouth of the pass."  Not finding what he was looking for he flipped the pouch and opened the second one.

"I'm gonna get you set up here an then I'll see what I can do to clear the way."  Vin looked down at the bloody hand that now gripped his sleeve.

"Don't need you gettin' your fool head shot off out there." 

"We ain't got much choice."  The Texan pulled out the bundle he had been looking for and set it aside. 

"I don't know Wally, all I saw were two of 'em and I got one."  Once the two men below him disappeared behind some rocks, Elwin headed back to the horses.

Wally knew one of them was going to have to ride back to camp and let Angus know about these two men.  Their leader had been smart to have to watch for strangers while the rest of the men prepared to meet the buyers for the 500 head of cattle they had accumulated over the last several weeks.  That group of men was coming up from Mexico approaching the camp from the West; these two men had come across from the east side of the camp.

"El, you stay here and keep an eye on those two an' I'll head back to get Angus an' some of the boys." The small group of rustlers had killed before to protect their stash and would do so again.

 "Ow! Damn it Tanner that hurt."  Chris jerked back from the probing fingers, causing pain to shoot through his injured shoulder.

"Well, I ain't ever professed to be no saw bones."  Vin reached for the wound again.  "Hold still, will ya!"

Larabee gritted his teeth against the pain as Tanner probed the wound again.  The quiet cursing didn't bode well for the blond.

"Bullets still in there."  Sitting back on his heels, the Texan looked up into the amused green eyes of his friend.

"No shit!"  Chris shared a smile before the pain overcame any humor he was feeling at the situation.

"Gonna hafta to go hunt them son's a bitches down, 'fore we can move ya."  He didn't like the thought of leaving his friend but the longer they stayed here the more at risk they were to be found.

Larabee tried to hold still as Vin smeared some ointment on the wound.  Looking down he saw the clear gel like substance run red with blood.

The Texan took off his bandana and pulled a clean shirt from Chris' saddlebag.  Taking his knife, he cut a hole and then ripped a section out to cover the wound.

"We gonna have to get you to a real Doc.  I ain't got no way of getting that bullet out and if'n I cut ya, no way to close the wound."  What Vin didn't say was that he could burn it closed but he was concerned about the angle of the entry.  The shooter had been up on a ridge so the bullet had entered from the top part of the blonds shoulder angling down and since there was no exit wound, was lodged somewhere in the gunslinger.

"Do what ya can Vin."  Larabee used his good hand to swipe at the sweat rolling down his face.

Tanner was worried, it was getting cool with the arrival of night and he didn't know if the bandits had gotten in behind them and closed the pass.  Chris' horse was wandering around and if he knew his ole mule, Peso was already half way back to Four Corners.

The gunslinger shifted until he was lying on his side with all pressure away from his wound.  He tried to control his breathing, something he had heard Nathan say that stuck in his head.  The pain from the wound was a constant throbbing but it was almost unbearable when he moved that shoulder at all.

Opening his eyes just in time to see Vin slip around the front of the boulder, the blond rolled, the jerking movement of his attempt to rise took his breath. 

Tanner used the cover of the sagebrush and smaller jutting rocks as cover until he got close enough to Chris' horse.  To his surprise, Peso was only a few feet down the trail but it would drive him into the open to go after the animal.  In a split second decision, he figured that he owed Larabee the risk to his own life.  He needed the other medical pack and provisions that were in the worn saddlebags.

By the time the Texan came back to where he left his friend, Chris was up on his knees and struggling to rise.

"Hold on there pard."  Reaching out Vin helped his friend back against a large boulder.  "Once it gets dark, I'm gonna head out for a bit.  Reckon I should be able to see if the back pass is covered."

"I don't like…."  Gasping through another spasm of pain the blond swallowed and then continued.  "…it, you out there on your own."

"Chris, the way I figure it, we got two choices.  We can sit here an' wait 'til they come find us or I can go get 'em an' then we get the hell out of here."  Their choices were limited and he could tell the blond knew it by the harsh downward slant of his brows.

 Pointing to a small cluster of men, Angus Steed gave them directions, "You go back with Wally and get those two that were following us.  They might be a posse come from outside Silver City."  The tall slim body rose from in front of the fire.

Wally turned and led several of the men toward the Ramuda.  That would leave only two men with their boss to watch over the camp, but Angus must be feeling all right about it to send the other five men with him.

oooOOooo

Chris was burning up; the breeze that chased across his face didn't cool him at all.  He didn't know how long Vin had been gone, his thoughts were not clear on anything but the burning behind his eyes and the heat he could feel building from the inside out.

The Texan came upon a lone man at the north end of the pass; the skinny fellow was hunkered over the glowing coals.  The fire had led the tracker to his camp.  Vin had taken the hemp rope off Peso and cut part of it into smaller pieces. 

The other man was so surprised by the attack, he didn't offer much of a struggle as Vin gagged and tied him.  Un-tacking the roan horse, Tanner slapped its rump sending it off into the darkness.

Elwin was in shock, how the hell did this man sneak up on his without giving any sound away?  He felt the sawed off punch his back and a rough voice grunt "Get" so he moved a bit faster, all the time trying to figure out how he was going to get out of this mess. 

Chris jerked upright, pulling his gun and leaning his hip against the hard rock surface.  He lowered his weapon when he saw Tanner push a man to his knees.

Vin didn't like the look of his friend; the blond was laboring to breath and kept swiping at the sweat running into his eyes.  It looked like he was going to have to take the bullet out, as the lead was most likely contributing to the fever. 

"I see you found Peso."  Chris smiled through his pain, seeing one of Vin's multi colored bandanas tied round the prisoner's mouth.   

Tanner grunted and pulled his hat down lower over his face, he was going to try to get some information out of the prisoner, and didn't want his 'baby face' to get in the way.

The gunslinger rested back, ready to watch the show that was about to unfold.  He loved to watch the Texan work.

Elwin flinched back when the eight-inch blade was laid against his cheek, in the light of the high moon, he could see clearly what was going on around him.

"I'll ask you once, mind me."  Turning the blade slightly a trickle of blood pool along the edge, sure that he had made his point Vin let up on the pressure.

"Where an' how many?"

The prisoner didn't waste any time in telling there were nine of them, and that his partner Wally had been the one to shoot the blond. 

Tanner pushed the man toward the base of the rock out cropping.  The tracker made the prisoner get down on his belly after he put the gag back in place.  After tying the man up Vin turned back, to find Chris slumped down on the blanket with his head resting back on the saddle.

Larabee opened his eyes when he heard the approach of his friend.  "You enjoyed that way too much pard."  His eyes drifted closed as he lost the struggle to stay awake.

Vin sat down beside the blond, reaching out he placed a hand on Larabee's forehead.  He was way too hot for such a cool night; The Texan took some deep calming breaths. 

Tanner checked the prisoner one more time and then woke Chris to drink some of the water they had left.  Hoping that the blond would be al right while he went back out scouting, the tracker blended into the shadows.

Chris dreamed he was floating in a river of fire, the heat that surrounded him raising blisters on his body.  The worst was a deep penetrating burning in his shoulder that wouldn't let up. 

Wally came upon the spot where he'd left Elwin, and found a cold campfire.  Looking around quickly, he could feel the eyes of a predator on him.  

The tracker stayed to the shadows, he marked each of the five men and their positions.  A feeling of urgency almost pushed him to take them all on at one time.  The Texan needed this to be done so he could get back to Chris.  He was also going to have to find a wagon, as Larabee wouldn't be able to ride with the wound and the fever.

Tanner followed the first two men as they left their horses and moved in the direction of his friend.  The other three split up as well so it took him the better part of the night to keep them away from Chris and get them separated so he could take them down.

One man died when he pulled his gun, Vin's knife did the job before the weapon fired.  Three were tied up where he jumped them and the last man had been so startled by Tanner he'd slipped over the edge of the cliff and hit his head.  He was still alive when the tracker tied him up but by the blood pooling under his dark head, the Texan didn't think he would last long.

By the time he made it back to check on Chris the blond was mumbling and thrashing, as if struggling against an unknown foe.  Vin bathed his face with some of the water he'd taken off the other men's horses but it was not enough.

Chancing a small fire, Vin set about laying out what he would need in order to remove the bullet from Larabee's shoulder, he only hoped his efforts to heal his friend didn't backfire on him.

Angus waited until first light before deciding that he would have to send one or both of the men back down the trail to check on the other six.  It should have taken no more than a couple of hours to find the two that were following and take care of business.  It had been over eight hours now and he was expecting the banditos to show up for the exchange.  Gold from the mines out of Mexico would buy the cattle that they had spent months rustling. 

The leader of the gang didn't want to stand-alone but he didn't see that he had any choice.

"Go on get."  He waved his remaining men toward their mounts.  "Get 'em back here as fast as you can."

The sound of fast approaching horses coming up the trail sent Vin spinning around with his hog leg in hand.  He didn't know what surprised him more; the fact that Nathan and Buck were clearly visible in the morning light or that Chris was standing at his back ready to fight when the Texan turned back.

Nathan was off the horse before it stopped, leaping past a still stunned Tanner, the healer reached for the gunslinger just as he collapsed, and his gun dropping limply from his hand. 

Vin filled the men on what had gone on so far as Jackson worked on the wound in Chris' shoulder.  It took all of the men to hold the blond down as the long lean frame lifted at the first cut of Nathan's knife.

Buck rested a hand on his friend's head over a cool cloth as he watched the healer tie off the catgut stitches in the wide cut just under Larabee's shoulder blade. 

"He gonna be all right Nate?"  The ladies man asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

"We get that fever down an' he'll be right as rain."  Nathan truly felt that was the only concern at this point.

"How'd you boys come to be in this neck of the woods?"  The Texan was hunched down in front of the entrance of their hidden camp keeping watch.  As much as he wanted to be back there with Chris, he knew that Buck had a stronger motivation, a 12-year history that Tanner wouldn’t disrupt.  

"We didn't feel right about just two of ya goin' an' havin' all the fun."  The healer looked up and smiled as he stirred the stock he was heating for their ill friend.

Buck swiped the wet rag across the blond's brow with one hand and held onto his lower arm squeezing periodically to let his friend know he was not alone.

"Truth is another telegram came from Patsy, with more information.  Said there was a gang of rustlers that came through.   We figured that might be a bit much for the two of you to handle and hey weren't we right?"  Wilmington turned back to his friend.

Vin and Buck took out the last two men who had come hunting them with little struggle.  Now they were headed into the camp since their prisoners decided it was in their best interest to spill their guts.

"One man and 500 head of cattle."  Wilmington mused aloud.

"Gonna need a wagon to get Chris back to Silver City." 

The two men rode into an empty camp; the ground tore up from hundreds of hoofs.  One man was found hanging from a tree.

The two men found some horses and a wagon.  Vin ran a line down the halters and headed back toward the makeshift camp.  Buck brought up the rear driving the wagon.

Nathan struggled to hold the blond down without reopening his wound.  Larabee tried to get up several times, and the healer might have helped but for the obvious confusion in his eyes.

"Chris, settle down now."  Jackson was relieved with those piercing eyes turned his way with some clarity.

"Where's Vin?"  The blond's hand moved toward his, trying to find the source of his pain.

"Don't be touching that." 

Nathan heard the rumble of horse's hoofs, seeing Chris reach for his gun; the healer turned back toward the entrance.

Buck hopped down from the wagon, still fussing at the Texan.  "I ain't gonna put Chris in there with a dead body, you can drape him over one of them horses."

"Ain't got enough rope Buck, and there's two more out here."  Tanner ground tied Peso and then every three horses down the line.

Chris shook his head, feeling as if he was coming out of a tunnel, his shoulder throbbed painfully and his back was sore from lying on the hard ground.  "Getting to damn old for this."  He groused to himself. 

It took the small group two more hours to round up the men that Tanner had left scattered across the area and loaded up on the horses.  The three dead men were tied on the last three horses in the lead line after Buck had rustled up some hemp line.

A somber group rode back into Silver City.  Nathan decided that it would be better to get Chris back into a town and a real bed.  His fever spiked during the long trek back.

Vin and Buck went out to Patsy's ranch; Tanner apologized for not being able to bring her cattle so he offered the long string of horses to her.

They'd give Chris a few days to gain his strength back and then the four of them would head back to Four Corners and life would go on as usual.

The End