The morning sun pulled its way over the horizon and shed its bright rays through the open window of Nathan's room. The healer squinted at the light and pulled the curtain closed; it was hard enough to keep his eyes open after staying awake more than half the night. He wrung out another cloth with cool water and handed it to Larabee.

Chris drew the cloth over Buck's forehead slowly, soaking up the sweat that rolled from the man's hairline and dropped onto the sheets. Nathan would have never figured him for the hovering type, but something about the condition of his old friend had turned the hardened gunslinger into an unusual nursemaid. He had helped Nathan change bandages, kept Buck calm in the midst of fever-induced nightmares and talked to their friend through pain he was just too weak to hide.

"Infection's settin' in." Nathan spoke softly as he lay his hand across Buck's neck and felt the heat spread into his palm. Buck jerked awake, shivering from the touch as the healer pulled the quilt higher. "Shhh, just go back to sleep."

"Chris?" Buck's voice scratched out the name as he struggled to turn over.

"I'm here." Larabee leaned in close to his face, still keeping a restraining hand on Buck's shoulder. "What is it?"

"Tell J.D. … tell him…I'm sorry." Buck looked up at Chris, his eyes shining with fever, but his thoughts obviously clear.

"He knows you didn't mean to yell at him."

"Don't let him go." Buck reached with trembling fingers and latched onto Chris's sleeve in desperation.

Chris glanced up at Nathan, his face twisted in confusion. "Don't let him go where, Buck?"

"Make him stay here." Buck's hand dropped heavily onto the cot and his eyelids drifted shut.

"What's he talkin' about?" Nathan knew Buck needed to communicate with them, but he had no idea what muddled notions swirled in the sick man's head.

Chris stared at his sleeping friend for a moment, a look of realization crossing his features. "He don't want J.D. goin' with us after Ethan Foxx."

Nathan nodded, wondering how Chris had surmised all that from just a few words. Then again, those two had known one another so long they understood a lot more about each other than either of them would admit. A silent code that remained a mystery to everyone else.

"I'll keep J.D. here, I'll prob'ly need the help, but..." A sudden fear jabbed at Nathan's heart. He stood and motioned for Larabee to follow him outside. Buck probably had enough morphine and fever in his veins to prevent any understanding, but Nathan didn't want to take a chance.

Nathan waited until Chris shut the door softly behind them and turned to face him. The man had a look of grief and worry that ripped at the healer's already fragile heart. Knowing what he was about to say and the effect it would have only added to his pain.

"I don't want J.D. ridin' after Foxx anymore 'n you do, but I can't promise Buck's gonna pull through. Even if he does, he might lose that leg and I ain't sure J.D.'s gonna be able to handle either one."

Larabee sighed heavily, looking into the bright sky as if it held the answer he so desperately needed. "I gotta respect Buck's wishes, he knows J.D. better 'n anybody, knows the kinda anger and grief he's carryin' around'll make him careless."

Nathan nodded, knowing Chris was right, yet still dreaded having to burden J.D. with the powerlessness of staying put and waiting.

"He's a tough kid, he'll figure out a way to deal with whatever happens. Besides, I need somebody to look after the town 'til we get back." The fierce set of Chris's jaw and the bitterness in his eyes bore silent testament to the anger brewing deep within. "I expect the others are waitin' on me."

"Prob'ly." Nathan knew what Larabee and the others had in store for the Foxx gang, and for a weak moment he wished he could be a part of it. His body ached with the need to quench his thirst for vengeance instead of helplessly watching his friend suffer.

He slipped back inside and made his way into the chair Chris had just vacated. His thoughts turned prayerful as he continued to bathe Buck's neck and shoulders with the cool cloth. Please let 'im be all right and let Chris kill the bastards that did this.

The irony of praying for healing on one hand and wishing another of God's creations irrefutable harm on the other made Nathan laugh sadly. He despised the overpowering draw of retribution, the ease with which he could slip back into such hatred, but men like Foxx didn't deserve to breathe the same air as decent folks. That was the undeniable truth.

*******

Vin met Chris at the bottom of the clinic stairs, a mixture of concern and downright anger pinching his features. Great, what else is wrong?

"Vin." The name rang out both as a greeting and a question and Tanner nodded.

"You seen J.D.?"

Chris shook his head, a creeping sliver of dread invading his bones.

"His horse's gone, his bed ain't been slept in and nobody's seen 'im since last night. I figure he got antsy waitin' on us."

"Hell." The sliver had suddenly become a dagger and Chris knew Vin's assumption had to be right. "Any idea which direction he took off in?"

"Probably toward Purgatory, the same place we need to be headin'."

"How would he know where to start lookin' or who he was even lookin' for?"

Vin dipped his head sheepishly. "I mighta mentioned both them things last night while we was outside Nathan's. Never figured the kid'd take off on his own."

"Never figured he'd leave Buck, but sometimes that gnawin' in your belly is stronger than good sense." Chris adjusted his hat, his mind reeling beneath it. Buck sure knew that damn kid, then again, Chris should have anticipated this too. He'd just have to make sure he found J.D. before Ethan Foxx did, before this all got even more out of hand. "Ever'body ready?"

Chris strode toward the front of the livery, Tanner moving in step behind him. "Yup. Just waitin' on you."

*******

J.D. reluctantly unfolded himself from the warmth of his bedroll and stepped into the crisp morning air. He hadn't intended to stop. He'd wanted to get as much of a head start as he could, but after nearly falling asleep and slipping off his horse twice he'd figured he'd better start fresh in the morning or risk waking up face down in a cactus patch. Buck always told him traveling at night was dangerous enough, but deadly if you were tired or distracted. And J.D. couldn't deny having been both.

He hoped he'd have a plan figured out by the time he woke up, but the exact logic to his actions still eluded him. Hell, maybe he should show a little good sense and wait for the guys to catch up to him. Maybe…if pride and vengeance weren't such a powerful duo. He certainly couldn't just be expected to sit here and wait for them to come to his rescue.

He quickly gathered his gear, kicking dirt into the dying embers of the fire. The sun had been up for a good hour or so and he knew Chris and the others would quickly catch up to him if he stuck around much longer. He'd already wasted enough time on his journey by stopping at Mrs. Anderson's farm last night. He couldn't explain it, but he'd had to see where Buck was attacked. That urgent need to stoke the inferno of rage within his soul to keep his courage up and keep him focused on his mission.

Nothing more than an open door and a busted hitching rail had been visible in the dim moonlight, but it had been enough. The suffocating stench of fear and pain had overwhelmed him as much as if he'd seen the dried blood he knew encrusted the ground he'd walked on.

'Get movin' boy, you're burnin' daylight!' J.D. could hear Buck's jovial words goading him about oversleeping and a flood of emotions pushed to the surface, along with the frightening revelation that he might never actually hear Buck's voice again. He'd probably left his best friend to die without even telling him good-bye.

J.D.'s chest tightened with renewed grief and he choked back the sobs that threatened to bubble from his throat. He didn't have time for this. He couldn't change what had happened to Buck, but he damn sure planned to make those bastards suffer for it. His hands fumbled with the cinch, his limbs shaking more from sentiment than from the chilly air. A part of him knew he was being irrational. That he had to be a complete and total fool for going after these men alone. Hell, he knew Chris would have let him come along. They'd never left him out of a fight before and J.D. knew for damn sure he wouldn't have been excluded from this one. Never.

Then again that wasn't the real reason he'd took off in the cover of night, alone and without letting his friends in on his plans. The truth had burned in his gut until he finally acknowledged it; he was more scared of what lay broken and bleeding back in Four Corners than anything that he might face in Purgatory.

His own death he could confront, but not Buck's.

*******

Larabee was vaguely aware of the other men as their mounts kept pace behind him, yet he felt engulfed by solitude. The open desert merely added to his isolation. As much as he wished he could be mad at J.D.'s impulsive and dangerous behavior, deep down Chris couldn't deny feeling the same way. A few short years ago he would have done the same thing.

Only a life's worth of dues paid, time and time again it seemed, kept him in town last night. Maturity had taught him his presence belonged with those that mattered; justice would wait, because his responsibility now extended beyond personal desires. Making sure Buck remained safe and that none of the residents of his town would become another casualty had to take priority over the revenge he wanted as badly as J.D.

Chris understood the boy's need to keep to himself, even respected his desire to sort things out on his own. J.D. had grown up a lot since he first jumped off that stage. He'd turned out to be a hell of a fighter, a loyal friend and a valued and equal member of their circle of misfits. And as much as Larabee knew J.D. had to learn things the hard way, a part of him would always see their youngest as 'the kid' and forever feel an obligation to make sure J.D. stayed on a straighter path than Chris had chosen for himself. He sure as hell didn't want the kid to follow in his wayward footsteps. J.D.'s heart remained too pure, too open and honest to be corrupted with that kind of hatred.

Despite the harshness he realized J.D. had grown up in, despite the never-ending barrage of the evil side of mankind the kid bore witness to since joining the likes of them, J.D. still refused to give up his optimism and his unquenchable thirst for life's adventures. It remained one of the things he most admired about the young man. In spite of all J.D. had seen, all he'd been through, he still had trust, faith and honor enough for a thousand men. Larabee couldn't sit back and watch J.D. throw that away on something as wasteful as vengeance.

Of course, that might be the least of his worries. Chris couldn't quell the gnawing dread that J.D.'s hastiness could land him smack dab in the middle of something that none of them would be able to handle, let alone one cocky kid with a heavy heart. At the very least his naive bravery might give Foxx's gang just enough warning that the rest of them would be following close behind. Larabee spurred his horse faster, desperate to get to Purgatory before J.D. got himself killed or, maybe worse, lost his own soul.

*******

Nathan peered out the curtain and down at the quiet street for what had to be the hundredth time since his friends had disappeared down that dirt trail. Right now he only wanted to see the stage pull up and one man climbing the steep stairs to his humble excuse for a home. Nathan knew he and Dr. Matthews might have started out on the wrong foot, but they'd both learned a lot from each other. The healer ran rough fingers across the expensive leather binding of the book the man's daughter had given him. Sadly, all the cures in the world didn't mean a thing without skill. Skills he didn't have.

A soft click of the door almost made him jump and he let the dusty curtain fall back into place. Inez quietly appeared, her eyes dark with worry and her hands laden with a basket emanating with scents of bacon and warm biscuits.

"I thought you might be hungry." Her voice remained steady, but Nathan noticed the subtle tremor in her hands as she set the food on the edge of the desk and turned her attention toward Buck. "How is he?"

"He's holdin' on." Nathan moved to the edge of the bed. "Ain't never seen nobody fight harder."

Inez smiled sadly and gently threaded her fingers through Buck's wet hair. "When is the doctor coming?"

"Soon…I hope." Nathan moved to the window again, his heart fluttering with impatience as the arriving stage stopped in a cloud of gritty smoke. If Dr. Matthews didn't get his message, then Nathan would be on his own and Buck's life would rest solely in his hands. And that terrified him. But one way or another, he had to know.

"Stay with 'im, I'll be right back."

Nathan left quickly, his boots thumped heavily down the steep stairs, his mind spurring his body onward in its need of truth. His eyes searched the passengers as they waited for their luggage, but Dr. Matthews was not among them. A rush of panic swelled inside his chest as he pressed closer, scanning each face for some flicker of recognition, yet only strangers' stares greeted him.

"Excuse me, Hollis." Jackson called up to the driver, his desperation evident in his quaking voice. "I's expectin' a doctor on this run - Dr. Matthews?"

The grizzly man shook his head. "Naw, doc. Just a woman and three young 'uns on their way to Californ. Ain't seen no doctor."

Blood rushed through Nathan's ears in a deafening cadence and fear blurred his vision. He felt himself sway and quickly steadied himself long enough to assemble his composure. Dr. Matthews wasn't coming. Whether Buck lived or died now rested completely on his shoulders.

Nathan pulled in a deep breath and made his way back to the clinic, praying he'd know what to do when he got there.

*******

The afternoon sun drew deep shadows along the wall that surrounded Purgatory; the town Buck fondly referred to as 'hell in a bucket.' J.D. adjusted his hat, grateful for the scarce shade it provided. He'd really rather have been able to ride in under the cover, and not to mention relative coolness, of night. He wiped at the rivulet of sweat that trickled from his hairline, knowing he would be sweating bullets even if he'd been standing hip-deep in an icy creek.

He tried to push away his fears, tell himself he'd been here lots of times. Hell, he'd watched Chris and Buck often enough to know how to make them think he belonged. No big deal. He just had to act like one of them and they'd leave him alone. He could ask around, find out where Ethan and his boys were holed up and make his plans from there. No problem. Now if he could just stop his hands from shaking and keep his eyes from reflecting the uncertainty his heart felt.

J.D. ran his hand over his rough stubble-covered chin and urged his mount forward. He figured he looked plenty uncivilized enough with his week's growth of beard, and the dark circles he imagined framing his blood-shot eyes gave him a menacing air. He'd ride through like he'd just as soon shoot 'em all as look at 'em and they'd keep their distance.

He pulled back his shoulders and rested his hands casually on the horse's withers as he rode; his head cocked slightly to one side as he moved in rhythm with his mount. He prayed nothing about his outward appearance would give away the fear fluttering in his otherwise empty belly. J.D. studied each face quickly, trying his best not to draw unnecessary attention as he searched for any hint of familiarity to the ink drawings lining his coat pocket.

"Hola, bebé muchacho."

J.D. sucked in a sharp breath, but refused to turn around. He wasn't sure what the words meant, but the menacing tone left no room for doubt. Now he could only hope they weren't talking to him.

Another man stepped into his path and roughly grabbed the reins from his lax hands, grinning as the animal arched its neck and sidestepped. "Extraño sombrero."

The man motioned to his hat and smirked before turning to his companions, laughing heartily as they encouraged him with shouts and jeers. J.D.'s face burned with embarrassment and overwhelming dread. He was such an idiot. He might as well have sauntered right in the middle of a pack of hungry wolves with a bleeding sheep tied to his back. It would've probably been safer.

J.D. jerked the leather lead from the man's hands, the cold hatred J.D. projected through his eyes the only real part of his threatening guise.

The man and his friends roared with more laughter as J.D. shoved the older man back with the toe of his boot and continued toward the saloon.

"Valiente tonto." He shouted, but J.D. never looked back. He hoped like hell that they hadn't seen his hands twitching. Ok, so this game was proving harder than he'd thought, but he couldn't back down now or they'd know for sure he didn't belong.

J.D. swung his leg carefully over the saddle, using his horse to steady himself as his limbs wobbled. Good J.D., fall on your face now, that'd just be icin' on the cake. He paused to gather his courage, then slowly strode through the batwing doors of the saloon and pulled up the first empty stool next to the bar.

"Beer." He fumbled in his pants' pocket just long enough to draw attention to himself before finally clasping sweaty fingers on the coin. Frustrated and tired he slapped the money loudly on the bar. "I said, get me a beer."

The bartender shook his head in amusement, but filled a mug and slid it into J.D.'s hands.

"First time?"

J.D. shot the barkeep a hostile glance and took a long swig of his drink, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "I've had my share of whiskey, mister."

"I meant visitin' our fair establishment, kid."

"Oh." J.D. let out a frustrated sigh as the man laughed and turned to his other customers. This didn't seem to be going as he'd hoped or everyone wouldn't be looking at him like he'd wandered away from his momma. Maybe he just needed to work on another approach.

"Hey, mister." J.D. called him back and leaned over the bar. "Where would a fella go for some fun in this town?"

The man's jovial demeanor changed into a mask of annoyance as his eyes swept up and down J.D. "Boy, do you know where the hell you are?"

"Supposed to meet up with some kin here. Name Foxx ring a bell?" Several men at the opposite end of the bar turned to stare at him and J.D. realized too late that he should have been a little less obvious with his questions.

"Maybe you'd best run along home now 'fore you get your fool ass shot for being too damn nosey." The bartender hissed the words through clenched teeth, but a glint of pure fear shone in his eyes as he scanned the room warily.

With his confidence shaken, J.D. finished off his beer silently, feeling the scrutinizing gaze of each man in the saloon on his vulnerable back. Panic swirled in his gut as he waited for another plan to present itself before he ended up getting fitted for a coffin. At this moment the only thing on his mind involved surviving long enough for the others to catch up. No denying there'd be safety in numbers and it'd certainly feel mighty good knowing a friend had your back. For now that meant getting out of sight and staying alive until he thought of something better.

He pushed away from the bar, his eyes cutting from side to side as he warily made his way to the exit. He felt trapped, overwhelmed and an urgent need to shuck all dignity and run like hell. Muggy air and burning sunshine greeted him as he stepped into daylight, but his relief was short-lived. The bullies who'd greeted him on his way through town stood looming along the shade of the boardwalk and all four of them wore smiles like ravenous wolves.

"Hola, poco hombre." The first man whispered in J.D.'s ear as the others slowly closed in around him. J.D. felt a trickle of sweat slide down his back and he nearly gagged on the sour taste of beer lingering in his dry mouth. His heart thumped heavily against his ribs, the vivid recollection of Buck's beating, as well as his own, seemed to turn his bones to liquid and threatened to melt his body into the planks under his feet.

J.D. clutched his pistols. If he had to die, he'd make sure he took a few of his tormentors with him. After all that Buck had taught him about staying alive, J.D. couldn't help but feel ashamed he'd let his best friend down…again. Strong hands from both sides grabbed his wrists and jerked each weapon from his grip.

"Little hombres shouldn't play with big guns." The man waved his finger in front of J.D.'s face as if reprimanding a wanton child. J.D. didn't have time to react before an agonizing blow to his lower back sent him crashing to his knees. Numbing pain spread up his spine and around his ribs as he landed, and he fought to catch his breath. Another whack across his shoulders landed him sprawling face down on the grimy boardwalk and he realized he was a dead man. The only thing he could pray for now is that they'd kill him quick enough that he wouldn't have a chance to linger on regrets or pain or fear.

*******

Buck could feel bone grating against bone as he tried to roll onto his back and knew he'd discovered hell. Agony raced from his toes to the top of his head and he figured this had to be what it'd feel like to be struck by lightning, over and over and over. He wanted to stop the cries that originated from deep in his chest, but that kind of control took too much energy and he couldn't stop the ragged screams that tore from his throat.

"Lie still, it's ok, it's ok." The sweet voice held a hint of panic and he turned his focus from his own pain to the woman he felt hovering close. God, she sounded so achingly familiar and he opened his lids with a tremendous effort and stared into the face of an angel. Wait, did they have angels in hell? Maybe the Almighty had cut him a break after all.

An overwhelming wave of dizziness forced him to shut his eyes again as the pain retraced its path along his body. Maybe not. All this was too strange to be heaven, and surely not even hell could hurt this much. He cried out again, his moans becoming weaker until he didn't have the strength to even whimper. The angel smoothed his hair, her words soft and full of concern as she bent close and he felt her warm breath on his ear. Ok, so at least she was real. Maybe.

Her words soothed him and he let his thoughts ride on the timbre of her melodic voice and his suffering diminished into a draining ache. Memories of his mother invaded his feverish mind and his heart flipped at the realization. She had come back to him when he needed her most. Momma was his angel.

Buck could remember being this sick only one other time in his whole life. He had been seven years old, but to this moment he could still feel his mother's tender hands wiping the moisture from his face as she rocked him in her lap, his coltish legs hanging off the arm of the chair as she lovingly held onto his fever-wracked body. He could even still feel the warmth of her skin and savor the aroma of lavender as she cradled him, prayed over him and willed the life back into him.

God, he'd forgotten how much he missed her. How much he still needed her.

Grief washed over him unrestrained and he longed for the comfort of her compassionate voice, her wisdom, most of all he needed her unconditional love. He pushed aside the pain in his body and in his heart, grasping onto the beautiful image he'd almost forgotten he carried inside his battered skull. Long, dark curls framed her flushed cheeks as she appeared before him and he wanted to cup her face in his palm, but his hand refused to move.

"Momma." He called out to her and she smiled, stroking his hair before planting a soft kiss on his heated forehead. "I miss you, Momma."

Her image turned to leave and Buck grabbed her hand. "No!"

He'd been without her for so long he hadn't realized how much he needed to have her with him again. "Let me go with you." Buck couldn't swear he'd said the words, but he could tell from the squeeze of her hand on his that she understood his meaning. He'd always hoped when his time came he'd die fast, with no time to think about suffering or being scared. He never wanted to die like this, but now, the thought actually calmed him instead. His momma would guide him and there would be no fear. Buck gave in and followed her toward that beautiful light looming behind his mother's form.

*******

Nathan could hear Inez yelling as he reached the first step. Some indiscernible Spanish intermingled with her terrified English and Nathan knew something had gone wrong.

He flung open the door and rushed in, wedging himself between Inez and the unconscious man on the bed.

"I think he stopped breathing." Inez whispered, as if she couldn't believe her own words.

Nathan placed trembling fingers on his friend's neck, his mind swirling faster as he tried to think of something, anything, he could do to bring him back if she was right. The healer couldn't feel anything but his own blood rushing through his fingertips, but he wasn't ready to give up yet.

"Damn it, Buck, don't you leave us!" Nathan shook Buck's shoulder roughly, and slapped his cheek hard enough to get his attention, but the wounded man didn't respond. "J.D. needs ya, Buck, we all do, but J.D.'d be lost without someb'dy to ride tail on 'im. So don't you go makin' me tell him ya died and left 'im."

Nathan could hear Inez's soft sobs behind him, and he pressed harder into Buck's neck. A weak pulsing under his touch almost made him yell in triumph, but he hadn't won yet. If Buck didn't want to fight, not him, not any fancy doctor in this territory could save him. He just had to make Buck want to live, even if it was only long enough to get back the strength to choke Nathan's neck.

"Ain't nobody ever gonna watch that boy's back the way you do, Buck, so if you want to save that cocky lit'l brat from a worlda hurt, you'd best stick around. The rest of us ain't gonna put up with his stupid hide, so if you desert 'im, so do we. Chris'll send him and his guns packin', and who knows what kinda slick outlaws would welcome a trigger happy runt tryin' to be a hero. Course, they'd prob'ly shoot the pain-in-the ass kid the first day anyway."

Nathan hated to talk about J.D. this way, but nothing got Buck's ire lit quicker than picking on his kid. The healer knew, and Buck surely did too, that no matter what happened, they'd always have a soft spot for the young man. Not a one of them that wouldn't throw themselves in front of a bullet to keep him safe. That much Nathan outright lied about.

The part about J.D. being lost without Buck though. That was the kind of truth that would bring a man back from the grave. Exactly the goal Nathan was aiming for.

*******

"J.D.'d be lost…"

Buck stopped and his mother's fingers slipped from his grasp, the moment shattered. How could he have forgotten about J.D.? Just when he thought he'd had this dying thing figured out.

"Ain't nobody ever gonna watch that boy's back the way you do…"

Oh, God. He'd like to believe J.D. would be just fine without him, but what if he was wrong? Lord knows that boy could use a few more years of Buck's teachings, yet J.D. was smart and strong - he'd survive. Wouldn't he?

"…you desert 'im, so do we."

Buck stared at his mother, his face mirroring the bewilderment and the conflict he felt tearing at his heart. "I didn't desert him!" Buck shouted to no one in particular, as he searched her face for confirmation. "I'd never desert J.D."

"…slick outlaws would welcome a trigger happy runt tryin' to be a hero."

Hell, no they won't! Buck silently apologized to his mother for the curse, but it would take more than heaven had to offer for him to let that happen to J.D. If that meant giving up this incredibly blissful and pain-free feeling, then so be it. If it meant he couldn't be with his mother right now, then he'd just have to wait a little longer.

Buck swallowed hard and stared at his mother's caring face. Her image had already begun to fade into the light he'd been destined for moments ago, but he witnessed the loving smile that crossed her lips and he knew he'd made the right choice.

"Thank you, Momma." Buck shut his eyes and willingly let the pain only the living shared reclaim his body. He hoped J.D. would appreciate his sacrifice, then again, Buck would make sure he never forgot it.

*******

He felt Buck twitch under his palm and a low moan rattle in his chest. Nathan glanced up at Inez and smiled. "That's it, come on, tell me to keep my trap shut."

Buck didn't speak, nor open his eyes, but Nathan could feel and hear the increased rhythm of his breathing as he slipped into a quiet slumber. The healer sat back in the hard chair, and let out the breath it'd seemed he'd been holding since he'd rushed in.

A firm knock at the door drew his attention and he almost felt like crying from relief when he saw Dr. Matthews step inside.

"Mr. Jackson." The older man nodded toward Inez, then immediately crossed the room and addressed Nathan. "I left as soon as I got your telegram."

Nathan grinned and stood up, fighting the urge to draw the doctor into an embrace, instead, he settled for a handshake. "Glad ya could make it, doctor."

"Pardon the delay, but I thought a few hours head start on the stage would get me here sooner. Of course, I'm not as proficient at repairing a loose buggy wheel as I am a poor soul's dislocated shoulder, so I underestimated my travel time."

"Just grateful you're here now." Nathan knew those mere words couldn't begin to describe his gratitude and Buck didn't have the time to let him try. He pointed at the bed and Dr. Matthews quickly removed his hat and opened his medical bag as Nathan pulled back the sheet from Buck's mangled leg.

"I'll need some clean bandages, hot water and two firm splint boards, ma'am," Dr. Matthews requested. Inez wiped the tears from her cheeks and nodded resolutely before hurrying to her mission.

Nathan watched as Dr. Matthews examined Buck. The physician's worried expression grew more serious as he peeled off the bandages covering Buck's injured leg. "I can't make any promises, Mr. Jackson, but I'll do my best."

"That's all I can ask, doctor. It's all anybody can ask."

PART 3

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