Friday 12 p.m.

They were almost home and the tracker knew he, for one, would be very glad to get back to town. He still ached terribly, and his head throbbed worse than any hangover he could ever remember having.

Several birds took sudden flight from a small stand of mesquite trees and Vin pulled Peso up for a closer look. The wagon continued to rattle down the trail.

A moment later, a single gunshot pierced the hot desert air and Vin felt a fire burst to life in his side. He leaned over Peso's neck and kicked the horse into a hard gallop, chasing after the others.

Josiah already had the mules moving as fast as they could go when the tracker reached the fleeing wagon. He raced up alongside the conveyance, yelling to the two men, "Get Chris back t' town! I'll draw 'em away from ya!"

As Peso turned away from the wagon, Nathan saw the bloodstain on Tanner's shirt. "Vin!" he called, but it was already too late, the sharpshooter was headed back toward the hill where the first shot had come from, more gunfire ringing out in the quiet air. "Damn fool's gonna get himself killed!"

Friday 1 p.m.

The team of tired mules pulled the wagon into Four Corners, their sides heaving and their nostrils flared. Buck and JD burst out of the sheriff's office and rushed over as Josiah drew the team up with a shouted "Whoa!"

"What's wrong?" Wilmington demanded, hand reaching for the butt of his gun.

"Somebody started shootin' at us just shy of the Hawke farm. Vin drew 'em off," Nathan explained, climbing down.

"Chris?" Buck asked the healer.

"He's fine," Josiah assured him, climbing down as well.

"Can't say the same 'bout Vin," Nathan said. "He's got hisself shot. I saw the blood on his shirt as he rode off."

Buck and JD turned and ran for the livery, Wilmington calling back over his shoulder, "Tell Ezra t' meet us on the road to the Hawke place!"

"Will do," Josiah called.

Nathan climbed into the bed of the wagon and knelt down beside Larabee. "Chris? Can you hear me? Wake up, Chris."

The blond opened his eyes and blinked. "Vin?"

"Come on, we need to get you up into the clinic."

"Where's Vin?" Larabee demanded, a cold chill in his gut telling him the man was in trouble.

Nathan sighed heavily. "Ain't sure. Someone started shootin' at us. He went to draw 'em off so we could get you back to town. Buck and JD are goin' after him. Ezra too."

"Vin…" Chris sighed, slipping away again.

Friday, 6 p.m.

In the clinic, Chris sat propped up in the bed, finishing a second bowl of the potato soup Inez had made especially for him. It was very good, and he was incredibly hungry, so he'd finished the first helping and asked for a second. Nathan had been only too happy to indulge him, and quickly brought him the second bowl, which he had almost finished as well.

When he heard footsteps on the stairs he paused and looked up, hoping it was Vin. The tracker still hadn't made it back to town, and the other peacekeepers, except the healer, were out searching for him.

And it was Nathan who stepped inside to join him.

"Any word?" Larabee asked him.

The healer shook his head. "Buck and JD jus' got back. They found a body on the far side of Hawke's Hill – last of the men who tried t' rob the bank. They're headin' back out t' look some mo' before it gets too dark."

Chris leaned back, his appetite suddenly gone. Where the hell was Vin? It sounded like he'd gotten the man who'd shot him, so why hadn't he come back? Could there be other outlaws tracking Tanner? Did they know he was wanted? Had they captured him? Was he hurt too badly to make it back?

"Ezra and Josiah are still out lookin' too," Nathan added, seeing the worried expression on Larabee's face. "Don't you worry none, they'll find him."

Chris started to toss back the light blanket that covered his legs, but Jackson stopped him. "You ain't goin' nowhere, Chris."

The gunslinger looked up at the man, anger flaring in his green eyes, but Nathan met the man's gaze and held it, saying, "Vin'll have my hide if I let you outta this bed befo' you're good an' ready."

"He might need–"

"They'll find him," Nathan assured the gunslinger again.

Larabee wanted to argue, but he knew the healer was right. Besides, he was still too weak to be any real help on a search; they would just end up having to drag him back to town when he passed out on the trail if he tried.

"You can go," he told Nathan with a sigh.

The healer gave him a dubious look.

"I'll stay here." When Chris got an even more doubtful expression in reply, he growled, "I'll stay put, damn it. Go find Vin."

Nathan nodded. "Do my best."

Chris watched the man leave, then sighed and started on his soup again. They had to find him. Tanner had to be all right. He had some questions he needed to ask Vin and he couldn't do that if the tracker was dead. You damn well better not be dead, he silently told Vin. I want to know what the hell you were talking about out there… Wherever the hell that was.

Saturday 4 p.m.

The following afternoon, the five peacekeepers rode back into town, covered with dust and looking more than a little trail-weary. Chris was sitting on a chair just outside the saloon, Inez having taken over the mother hen duties for Nathan.

Larabee stood as they stopped and dismounted in front of the building. "Vin?" he asked the other men.

Buck stepped up, his gaze sweeping over the gunslinger and, for a moment, his lips curled up into a small smile as relief washed through him, but then the expression faded and his gaze dropped back to the boardwalk. "No sign, Chris. He just don't want t' be found right now. Crossed trails with a couple of the ones doggin' him, though – buried both of 'em, too. Can't be more 'n one or two of 'em left out there."

Chris felt his jaw twitch, but he reined in his anger. If Vin Tanner didn't want to be found, none of them were going to find him no matter how hard they looked. But why? And why was the remainder of the Palmer Gang still dogging him? Had they recognized Vin? Or was it just revenge?

"All we can do now is wait," Buck told him softly. "He'll come home as soon as it's safe."

"Mr. Tanner is exceedingly resourceful," Ezra offered hopefully. "I'm sure he will outwit his pursuers and return presently."

Chris nodded, silently praying the gambler was right. But the worry that had settled into his gut told him different. Vin was in trouble, he knew that was surely as he knew the sun would set and rise again in the morning. But there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Come on, Vin, he told the missing man, you told me you needed me to come back. Now I'm asking you, come home, Vin. Please.

Sunday, 1 p.m.

A thunderstorm raged in the afternoon sky, moving steadily across the desert on a hard-driving wind until it finally arrived in Four Corners. A drenching rain fell in sheet-like torrents, forcing everyone inside. The peacekeepers, except for Chris, retreated to the saloon, a depressed silence falling among them. Larabee, however, sat in his chair under the overhang, watching the empty street, waiting for Vin Tanner to return.

"Nathan!" the gunslinger bellowed.

Chris's frantic exclamation brought all five men to their feet and they rushed out onto the boardwalk. Through the heavily falling rain they could see a lone rider approaching, but the downpour made it impossible to see exactly who it was. What they could see, however, was that the man was hunched forward over his horse's neck in an unnatural manner.

"It's Vin," Larabee said softly, more to himself than the others.

"What?" Buck asked him.

Chris pushed to his feet, calling, "Vin!" and started out into the rain, but Nathan reached out and grabbed his arm, holding him back.

"No, Chris," the healer said.

Josiah and Buck charged out into the downpour, sloshing through the muddy water running down the street and turning it into a shallow river.

When they neared the horse, both men recognized Peso. The tracker was drooped over the gelding's withers, his arms hanging down limply on either side of the animal's neck.

"Vin? Vin," Josiah called softly as he carefully reached for the man. "It's Vin!" he bellowed back to the others. "He's hurt!"

The tracker's head came up as soon as he was touched, his glazed blue eyes meeting the former preacher's for a brief moment. But as soon as Tanner recognized the man, his eyes rolled up and he started to slide from the gelding's back.

Buck grabbed Peso's bridle to keep the gelding from spooking and Josiah caught the tracker, cradling him in his arms as if he were no more than a child. He turned and started straight for the clinic.

The others, waiting on the boardwalk, hurried after Josiah, JD veering off to help Buck see to the tracker's horse.

Oh God, Chris thought, his heart beginning to ache. He has to be all right. He has to be.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

In the clinic, Vin roused enough to stand up while Nathan and Josiah worked quickly to strip off his hide coat and shirt. The tracker's boots, pants, and long johns quickly followed. Once he was undressed, they carefully toweled him dry and laid him on the bed, the healer quickly covering Tanner with several blankets.

A few moments later, the tracker's teeth started to chatter, his body shaking uncontrollably even under the covers and in the too-hot room. He moaned softly, but didn't actually wake up.

"Josiah, take hold 'a his legs," Nathan instructed, folding back the blankets so he could get to the angry red gouge in the man's side. "Ezra, you sit up here by his head, keep him from movin' 'round too much."

His instructions were immediately carried out by the two peacekeepers.

Nathan turned from the bed to gather what he needed, then paused on his way back to Vin in order to get Chris into a chair. That done, he returned to Tanner's side.

Buck and JD stepped inside, taking up positions behind Chris so they would be out of the way, but ready to help if called. Ezra saw them and quickly tossed two towels over so they could dry their faces and pat the worst of the rainwater off their dripping clothes.

Wilmington reached out and rested his hand on Chris's shoulder, and the gunslinger leaned back into the comforting presence of his oldest friend, grateful for the support; Larabee was scared. The same feelings of dread and loss that had assailed him when he'd ridden up to the still-smoking ruins of his homestead now wrapped themselves around his heart and wormed their way through his guts, making him slightly sick to his stomach. Vin was in trouble, and it might be too late for Nathan to help him.

"Looks like it's just a graze," Nathan announced after he'd finally gotten the wound cleaned – a task he could only accomplish after the tracker's chills had subsided enough he wasn't shaking so badly. "Cracked a rib, too, but don't think it's broke."

"Will he be all right?" JD nervously asked the healer.

"Hope so… lost some blood, an' it looks like he's been soaked to the skin fo' a while. If he don't catch a fever, an' infection don't set in worse, I think he'll be all right."

But each man there knew either possibility was a real threat hanging over the injured tracker's head.

"I'm gonna make up a poultice, try an' pull some of that infection out," Nathan said. "Someone needs to stay with Vin while I go get what I need."

"I'll stay," Chris said, his voice tight and low.

"You need t' rest, Chris," the healer replied pointedly.

"I'll stay with Vin," Josiah offered.

Nathan nodded. "The rest o' you can come with me. We can find the plants I need quicker if we're all lookin'." He led the way out, Buck, JD, and Ezra trailing behind him.

Outside, the rain had fallen off to a light sprinkle, although thunder and lightning still filled the sky. Nathan showed them what he needed and they each started out to find as much of it as they could.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

In the silence that fell inside the clinic, Josiah prepared a bowl of water and set it on the table next to Vin's bed. Then he fetched several towels, which he stacked next to the bowl.

Vin started to shiver under the blankets again and Chris sat forward in his chair, saying, "Damn. He's still cold."

Josiah added the last of the spare blankets to the others already covering the younger man, then walked over and started a small fire in the potbelly stove, which sat close to the bed. It would turn the clinic into something close to a sweat lodge, but until Vin was warmed up, he knew he and Larabee could take it.

Chris stood, his legs a little unsteady under him, and dragged his chair over closer to the bed before he sat down again. Josiah watched him, a small smile on his face.

"What is it, preacher?" Chris asked him, feeling guilty, but not at all sure he wanted to explain why to the older man.

"Nothing, really… Well, I was remembering a few days ago, when it was you lying in this bed. Vin sat in that very spot while he was helpin' Nathan tend to you. Day and night, right there… Had just about the same expression on his face, too."

Chris smiled halfheartedly as he looked down at the younger man. "He's a good friend," he said. And more, but damned if I understand it.

"Oh, he's more than that, Chris," Josiah told him. "Buck is a good friend. Nathan and I are your friends. But Vin…" He shook his head. "Vin is more like… a brother?"

Chris continued to stare at the tracker as he nodded and said, "Guess he is at that." A brother of the heart, not the blood. He's a part of my heart, my soul. I can feel it. Then the gunslinger looked up, meeting Josiah's steady gaze. "What happened back at the reservation?"

"Don't rightly know," the former priest said.

"Vin said you thought he could bring me back, and the old chief said Vin brought me back, but from where I couldn't tell you."

Sanchez chuckled softly. "It's true I thought Vin might be able to help you," he admitted. "See, I saw a healin' once, in a Cherokee village. I thought Vin might be able to do for you what I saw a man's brother do for him."

"Which was?"

The older man shrugged. "You'd have to tell me; I wasn't there. I just saw a man who'd decided to die come back to the world of the living, and I think maybe I saw the same thing happen with you."

Chris looked back down at Vin, who had finally quieted and was now sleeping. "Don't know how it happened, but guess you could say Vin reminded me what the truth really was."

"That your wife and boy are dead," Josiah stated.

Chris nodded. "And that I have friends here… family."

The former preacher nodded sagely. "None of us are alone now, that's true… unless we decide we want to be."

Larabee looked up again and the anguish in his eyes took the former preacher by surprise. Something important had happened to the two men in whatever world they had visited.

"He was trying to save my life and I–" Chris broke off and shook his head, looking angry and disgusted with himself.

"What is it, Chris?"

The gunslinger hesitated a moment, but then forced himself to say, "I attacked him, Josiah… I beat him damn-near senseless – the man who was trying to save my life. What kind of a friend or a brother does that make me?"

Josiah smiled sadly. "You didn't hurt him, Chris. Oh, maybe in your mind you did, but that was just your ghosts, expending their anger."

Chris shook his head. "Felt real enough." He could remember all too clearly what he'd done to Tanner.

"I'm sure it did."

"And even after that he still came back for me," Larabee said, his voice tight and overly controlled. "Hell, even Buck had the good sense to ride out when I pulled the same thing on him a few months after Sarah and Adam died."

"It's what a brother would do," Josiah replied softly.

Chris nodded his agreement and started to say something more, but the door opened, the others filing back inside.

Monday, 10 a.m.

Chris watched while Nathan and Josiah worked together to change the damp towels draped over Vin's body, trying to cool the tracker's climbing fever. Ezra and JD stood side by side at the work table, preparing more of the herbs they had picked the day before for a fresh poultice. And Buck was across the street, borrowing fresh bed linens from one of his many "lady friends."

Larabee felt helpless and frustrated. He wanted to help them, but he was still weak and tired too quickly to be much use in the efforts. Slumping back against his chair, he sighed and waited as hours passed, Vin caught in the tight grip of a fever that left him restless and hurting. The damp towels helped some, but they couldn't break the fiery grip of the fever. Nathan tried everything he knew, but eventually the healer acknowledged that it was now Vin's fight.

Sitting alone with the tracker, Chris reached out and squeezed the man's shoulder, saying, "You can't save my life and then die, you hear me? You damn well better beat this, or so help me, Vin, I'll find you in Hell and show you what a real beating's like."

His gaze rose and he looked out at the sky through the window. I can't lose him, too, he prayed. Please.

Monday, 8 p.m.

Vin awoke slowly, floating back to consciousness on the trail of a soft, familiar voice that twined through his thoughts. As he began to realize where he was, he recognized the voice as well: Chris. He moaned softly and tried to force his eyes open.

"Vin?"

A hand closed on his shoulder, the touch cool on his warm skin, gentle and caring. He tried again to open his eyes, this time managing to lift his lids just far enough to see the man who was sitting at his bedside, looking haggard and worried.

Relief and affection rushed though the tracker's soul. It had worked. Chris was awake. For a brief moment he'd been sure the whole ordeal had been some crazy dream brought on by the fever that still held him in its grip, a grip that was looser now, but still strong.

"Welcome back, Cowboy," Vin managed to say before the dryness in his throat stalled his words and made him cough.

A moment later Chris was holding a cup to his lips, his hand supporting the tracker's head so Vin could drink comfortably.

Tanner gulped the cool liquid, savoring the clean, sweet taste. But then the cup was gone and he grunted his frustration over the loss.

"Nathan says you have to go slow on the water or it'll sour your stomach," Chris told him, easing Vin's head back down onto the pillow. "Damn, Tanner, you had us worried," he added. "Why didn't you come back to town sooner?"

Vin smiled tiredly. "Had t' wait fer the wash t' quit runnin'."

Chris's eyes widened. "You got out that far?"

"Didn't think so, but m' mind was none too clear." He took a shaky breath and let it out slowly, feeling the sharp pinch in his side. "How're y' doin'?"

Larabee looked slightly chagrined as he replied, "Pretty good. Head still hurts some, and I get tired just walkin' across the damn room, but Nathan says I'll live."

"Guess we both will."

"You sure as hell better," the gunslinger warned sternly. "They've been workin' on you for over a day now."

The corners of Vin lips curled up slightly. "Wouldn't want t' disappoint 'em," he slurred, his eyes dropping closed again. "Any of 'em…" And a moment later he was sleeping again.

The tracker's final words sent a rush of emotion racing through Larabee's chest, although he wasn't sure why or what, exactly, it was he was feeling. All he did know was that Tanner was going to live and, for now, that was enough.

"Just rest easy, Vin," Chris said softly, pulling up the man's blanket. "I'll be here. And when you're ready, we'll talk."

Tuesday, 9 a.m.

When Vin awoke the next time he was relieved to discover he felt much better. He could tell the fever had broken some time earlier, and his stomach rumbled like distant thunder, reminding him it had been too long since his last meal.

"Vin, you awake?"

The tracker turned his head to meet Nathan's concerned gaze. "'M now, Doc."

The healer grinned. "And already startin' t' sound more like the Vin Tanner I know," he said. "Guess I should be glad."

Vin glanced around the clinic. "Where's Chris?"

"I finally got him to go get some real sleep after yo'r fever broke last night, but he'll probably be along shortly. Why don't you try an' get some mo' sleep while I go fetch something fo' ya t' eat."

Vin nodded, closing his eyes. He immediately felt the tug of healing slumber and surrendered to the welcome blackness. But then he felt another tug and he moaned softly, trying to force his eyes open again, but it was already too late.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

When awareness returned, Tanner was standing back at the Larabee ranch where he had found Chris. He glanced around, confused, and more than a little scared. Not sure what to expect, he walked the short distance to the house and checked inside, finding it empty. He walked out into the yard and glanced around, finally spotting Chris, who was kneeling near the large tree growing next to the barn. Walking over to join him, he saw the two graves.

"I wondered if you might not turn up here," Chris said quietly without looking up.

"I sure as hell didn't. Didn't try or expect to," the tracker admitted. "Y' bring me here?"

Chris stood and turned to meet Vin's concerned gaze. "I don't know… Like you said, I didn't try, but here we are… and I did want– need to apologize."

Tanner looked even more confused. "Fer what?"

"For what happened here," Larabee replied, gesturing to the space beneath the tree. "I never meant to hurt you, Vin. God knows I didn't."

Tanner's head cocked slightly to the side. "Y' didn't hurt me, Cowboy."

"Like hell I didn't. I pounded you into the ground," Chris argued, gesturing at the earth on which they were standing and adding, "Right here."

"Yeah, here," the tracker repeated as he nodded. "But this ain't…" He trailed off and shrugged. "Hell, even if y' did, I'd say y' had yer reasons. Don't hold it ag'in ya, if that's what yer worried 'bout."

Larabee didn't know what to say to that. Finally, he shook his head, a small smile beginning to spread across his face.

"Somethin' funny?" Vin asked him, still confused.

Chris shook his head, but said, "Josiah was right."

Vin's brow furrowed. "J'siah? 'Bout what?"

"You're not my friend, Vin Tanner."

The tracker looked hurt and he took a step back like the words had struck him hard in the chest. "Hell, Chris, I woulda said I's yer friend. Consider y' m' friend."

The gunslinger shook his head again, his grin getting bigger. "No, a friend would've kicked my tail for what I done, but family… Well, family's another matter altogether."

Vin's cheeks turned a rosy pink and he dipped his head, hiding under the brim of his hat. "Y' think on me like family?" he asked, his voice unusually shy, which only served to broaden Larabee's smile.

"Guess I do at that."

The tracker's head came up a little, blue eyes meeting Chris's green. "Reckon I feel the same 'bout you."

Chris took a step closer, his hand held out. Vin looked at it for a moment, then took the proffered hand in a firm grip. When he did, Larabee tugged him into a heartfelt hug, stepping back when feelings he hadn't felt for nearly three years flared in his heart, and his groin, both startling the gunman.

"So," Vin said, his eyes twinkling, "how do we get back this time, Cowboy?"

"Hell, your guess is as good as mine," Chris replied.

Vin shrugged and started walking, the gunslinger falling into step at his side, Chris's mind racing with the truths he'd discovered about himself. He loved Tanner. Loved him like he should have loved Mary Travis, but how was that possible? He couldn't imagine that Vin could feel the same way about him, but he wasn't sure. Hadn't Vin said he loved him? He couldn't be sure unless he asked him, and just how the hell was he supposed to do that?

Tuesday, 1 p.m.

Chris walked into the clinic to find Vin lying in the bed, wide-awake and looking restless. He knew exactly how the tracker felt.

"How're you feelin'?" he asked Tanner.

"Tired," Vin admitted, "but I'll live."

"Nathan tell you that?"

"Why?" Tanner asked, looking a little annoyed.

"Just wanted to be sure it came from a reputable source."

Vin glowered at him and Chris grinned, his stomach developing a bad case of the flutters. "You look better than you did the last time I saw ya."

The tracker nodded. "Fever's broke, but damned if I ain't weak as a newborn calf. Can't even keep m' legs under me."

"Give it a day or two," Chris told him, his tone making it all too clear he understood exactly what the tracker was talking about. He walked over to the bedside chair and sat down. "Brought somethin' that might you help pass the time," he added, holding up a book.

Vin glanced at it, then at Chris, looking even more uncomfortable than before. "Sounds good… just one problem."

"What's that?" Chris asked him.

"Can't read," Vin admitted, glancing away with the admission, embarrassment making his cheeks burn with shame.

"Didn't figure you could," Larabee said easily.

Vin looked back, blue eyes flashing with challenge.

"Haven't heard about many schools out among the Indians," Chris added to explain.

Vin glanced away again, realizing that there was no judgment in Larabee's eyes, or in his tone.

"I was plannin' to read it to you. I think you might like it. It's called Last of the Mohicans, and it's about a tracker."

Vin settled back against his pillows, a smile playing on his lips. "Sure as hell beats layin' here countin' the nails."

Chris smiled back and opened the book. He began to read, but he made a point to look up over the book from time to time, enjoying the expression on Tanner's face as he listened to the unfolding story.

Wednesday, 8 a.m.

While the six peacekeepers finished the last of their breakfasts, Inez made up a seventh plate for Nathan to take back to Vin, who was still confined to his bed – a situation the healer knew wasn't going to last much longer.

As the men drifted off to their own tasks and diversions, Buck caught Chris on his way back to the clinic and, with an hand on the gunslinger's back, guided him across the street and over to the sheriff's office.

JD was nowhere to be found when they stepped inside and Buck closed the door behind them.

"Somethin' on your mind, stud?" Chris asked the ladies' man, a little annoyed about being kept away from the clinic. He had a book to finish for Vin, and the tracker was looking forward to it as much as he was.

Wilmington nodded. "Yes, sir, there is."

Chris regarded his long-time friend for a moment, then walked over and sat down. Buck obviously had something he needed to say. "You gonna tell me what it's about?"

Buck pulled his hat off and paced across the floor, turned, and paced back to the closed door again, then stopped and turned to face Larabee. "Chris, we've known each other a long time…"

"Yep," Larabee agreed. "What's chewing on you, Buck?"

The big ladies' man slapped his hat against his leg. "What was you thinkin'?" he demanded loudly. "Steppin' out there like that? Almost gettin' yourself killed!"

Chris leaned back and regarded the man for a moment, then said, "Some things are worth riskin' your life for, Buck, friends and family among 'em."

Wilmington stopped, staring at his friend. He blinked, then leaned back against the desk and folded his arms over his chest. "Well, what do ya know… I guess I was wrong."

"About what?" the gunslinger asked, pushing to his feet, amused that he had so easily surprised his oldest friend.

"When you was up in the clinic, hurt, I told Vin that you'd been looking for a reason to live, and a reason to die, ever since Sarah and Adam were killed. I thought you'd used me as a reason t' try and get yourself killed, but I was wrong, and I'm glad, Chris, I really am."

"I'm not sure you weren't right," Larabee admitted softly. "I couldn't honestly tell you what I was thinkin' at the time, just knew that man was drawing a bead on you and I didn't want to see ya killed. I've only got a few friends, can't afford to let any one of 'em get themselves killed for no good reason."

Buck nodded. "I know just what ya mean, pard," he said, his voice soft but intense. A smile spread across his handsome face. "I've gotta ask ya, Chris… What the hell happened out on that reservation?"

Chris shook his head. "I don't know, Buck. I just know Vin found me and brought me back. I didn't want to go, but… I couldn't stay. Not when I knew he was telling me the truth."

"How? How'd he do it?"

"He doesn't know either," Larabee told him, hoping that was what Buck was asking, and not what Vin had told him to make him change his mind. "The Indians got their own ways of doin' things."

"Ah hell, it don't matter what they done, or how they done it," Buck decided. "All that does matter is you made it back. I owe Vin for that, I surely do. Just promise me you'll be more careful the next time. I'm getting' too old for shocks like that."

Chris grinned. "You tellin' me you would've done it any different?"

"Didn't say that," Buck countered, grinning. "Just said I want you to be more careful is all."

Chris considered that for a moment, then said, "I'll just pretend I'm Buck Wilmington, and do what I think he'd do."

"Ah hell, Chris, now I know you're gonna get yourself killed!" the ladies' man moaned loudly.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Vin looked up to find Josiah carrying in a tray with his breakfast on it. The older man set it down on the tracker's lap and said, "Eat up, brother. Inez says there's plenty more where this came from, if you want some more."

Tanner regarded the man for a moment and then asked, "Why didn't Nathan bring it?"

Josiah offered him a shrug and said, "Guess he figured you might not be too happy to see him."

"I feel fine, J'siah," Vin said, his tone pleading for the preacher's understanding, and his support. "Don't see why I gotta stay a prisoner in this here bed."

Sanchez tried hard not to grin. "Last day, brother. Tomorrow your sentence will be commuted and you'll be free once more."

"'Bout damn time," Vin replied with a sigh, then dug into his breakfast, making quick work of it.

And while the tracker scraped the last of his meal off the plate, Josiah leaned back in his chair and enjoyed the sight of a healthy appetite. "I'd be happy to go over and bring you back some more," he offered.

Vin nodded. "Could eat it, if'n y' did." Josiah leaned forward so he could stand, but stopped when Tanner added, "Didn't get the chance t' say m' thanks, J'siah."

"No need, brother," the former preacher replied. "I'm just glad it worked."

"Me, too."

The big man sat back, his eyes dancing with curiosity. "How did you do it, Vin?"

The tracker shrugged and shook his head. "Damn if I know, J'siah. I's feelin' a mite out 'a sorts when they put me in that teepee with Chris. Nachise gave me somethin' t' drink. Worse stuff y' c'n imagine. Tasted worst 'n Nathan's horse piss he calls tea. Next thing, 'm at Larabee's ranch."

Josiah leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "You actually saw the ranch?"

Vin nodded. "House, barn, windmill, corral, trees, dirt, everything."

"So, it was real. It looked real, I mean."

"Looked real as this here room. Saw Sarah and Adam, too."

Josiah nodded, expression sad. "Imagined you might."

"Weren't sure he's gonna come back with me at first, but he did."

"Somewhere in his heart, he knew it wasn't real."

"J'siah, Chris would 'a died if y' hadn't told me 'bout that Cherokee warrior. I know that sure as sunrise. I's seen how he was. He would've stayed there an' died t' be with 'em again."

"Maybe, maybe not, only God knows for sure."

"Still, I owe y', an' I won't never ferget it."

Josiah shrugged again. "I'd say we're even then. After all, you saved my life when I was ready to give up and hang for those murders I didn't commit."

Vin glanced away, looking embarrassed. "Just did what I thought was right is all."

"I know," Josiah replied. "You're a good man, Vin Tanner," he added, standing and picking up the tray. "Now, I'll go get that second plate."

As Josiah reached the door Vin said, "You're a good man, too, J'siah, an' a good friend. I still owe ya."

"Have it your way," the former preacher replied with a small smile. "You're the most stubborn man I know, beside Chris Larabee, of course."

Vin grinned. Well, at least he was in good company. When Josiah was gone, he slumped back against his pillows, fighting the urge to just get up and leave, but he knew better than to do that. He'd catch hell from all of the others for sure if he did, and then Nathan would have him right back in this damn bed again.

He glanced at the door, wondering if Chris would come today to finish the book. He hoped so. The story was good, but what he really enjoyed was just passing the time with Larabee. It was the best he could hope for, and more than he'd ever expected.

Wednesday, 1 p.m.

Buck carried Tanner's lunch into the clinic, finding the tracker asleep. "Vin?" he called softly. "Vin, ya awake, stud?"

Tanner jerked and opened his eyes. He blinked owlishly a couple of times and then shook his head sheepishly when he recognized the ladies' man. "Nathan must be more scared 'a me 'n I thought," he mumbled.

"Huh?" Buck asked, confused.

"Startin' t' think Nathan's scared t' come back t' the clinic."

Buck grinned. "Naw, he was on his way, but I told him I'd bring this over for ya. I haven't been able to say my thanks, you doin' what you said you would – bringing Chris back – and I wanted to do it without an audience."

"Ain't no call t' thank me," Vin said, his stomach rumbling when he got a whiff of his lunch; Inez had outdone herself.

Seeing the man's hungry look, Wilmington set the tray down on his lap and dropped into the bedside chair. He waved at the plate, letting Vin know he should go ahead and eat. "Yeah, there's a need," he said as the tracker took his first bite, his eyes closing with pleasure as he chewed. "I owe ya, Vin, more 'n I can really say."

Buck's voice was soft and intense, telling Vin that the ladies' man was being honest and sincere. He didn't reply, though, enjoying the food too much, and knowing that Wilmington would set his own pace without his help.

"Chris an' me, we've been friends a long, long time. Hell, we weren't much more 'n kids when we first met, really – 'bout JD's age, I guess…" He paused, looking up to meet Vin's guileless blue eyes. "I just appreciate you bringin' him back from wherever it was he'd gotten to."

"Don't rightly know how much I did," Vin told him. "Whatever it might 'a been, 'm glad t' 've done it."

Buck appreciated the tracker's modesty. He cleared his throat and said, "There was a time Chris an' me, well, we lived in each other's pockets… That all changed after Sarah and Adam were killed. Guess it brought back too many memories for him to be around me much. Things changed between us."

"Y' looked after 'im," Vin guessed.

"I did," Buck agreed, "best I could, anyway. But he was so damn stubborn and a man can only get chased off so many times before he stays away."

Vin nodded his understanding.

"Don't get me wrong. Chris an' me, we're still friends, damned good friends, but, well, I just want you t' know, I'm glad he's got somebody to watch his back, that's all."

"I can't never take yer place, Bucklin," Vin said, honestly envious of the long friendship the two men had shared. But he'd never wish it any different than it was, for his sake and Buck's.

The ladies' man grinned. "Hell, Vin, ain't nobody could do that," he boasted, then turned serious again. "I hear what you're sayin', I truly do, but Chris an' me, well, we've taken different trails, and that's all right. I'm just glad he's got you t' ride with him. So you watch his back for me, all right?"

"I'll do it," Vin agreed, respecting Wilmington's big heart, and his generous soul. He held out his hand and Buck took it, giving it a heartfelt shake.

"Friends are more precious 'n all the gold in the world," the ladies' man said.

Vin nodded. "That they are. An' a true friend more rare."

Buck blushed and released the tracker's hand. "You up for another helpin'?"

"I could eat it," Vin replied hopefully.

Thursday, 11 a.m.

Chris and Vin sat side by side on the boardwalk, their chairs tilted back, leaning against the wall of the saloon. Inside the building, the other five peacekeepers were playing a game of poker – Ezra winning, as usual.

In the distance, another thunderstorm flashed and rumbled, the black clouds rolling closer to town, bringing with them a cooling wind that chased away the oppressive late morning heat.

Both men had their hats pulled down low, but they were still able to watch what was going on around them.

"Y' ain't sorry y' came back, are ya?" Vin asked softly, stirring the comfortable silence that had fallen between them.

"Nope."

A nod. "That's good."

"You sorry you came and got me?" Larabee asked him.

"Nope."

"That's good," Chris echoed.

The comfortable silence returned, both of the men grinning slightly.

"Gonna go in an' join the game?" Vin asked after a few moments.

"Maybe later. You?"

"Figger I'll wait."

Their grins both grew a little wider.

"To be honest…" Chris said, his heart beginning to beat fast as he took a risk he wasn't sure he was ready for. "…been thinkin' I'd go out to the cabin for a few days."

Vin nodded. "Do y' some good t' find some quiet."

"Wanna come along?"

Tanner looked up at Chris. "Y' sure? Sounds like y' want some time t' yerself."

"Wouldn't be asking if I didn't want you to come along."

Vin thought for a moment, then nodded. "I'd like t' go."

"I'll talk to Nathan, see if I can't get us both a pardon."

"Good luck," Tanner muttered, figuring they would both be lucky if they were able to get away in another week or so.

"He'll go along," Chris said. "If he don't… I'll shoot 'im."

Friday, 9 a.m.

The two men rode up to Chris's small cabin and dismounted. After taking care of their horses, they headed inside, Larabee putting some coffee on the stove to boil. When it was ready, they had it with the biscuits and ham steaks they'd picked up at the restaurant on the way out of town.

They both sat back, full, warm, and content.

After a third cup of coffee, the two men cleaned up the cabin and then headed out to check on the horses and feed them. That accomplished, they took seats in chairs on the porch and watched the morning pass.

"You up to takin' a ride tomorrow?" Chris asked Tanner.

"Reckon so. Where to?"

Larabee hesitated a moment, then said, "My old ranch."

The tracker's eyes rounded slightly, but he nodded.

"Thought we'd stop in Eagle Bend, spend the night there, then go out to the ranch."

Tanner nodded, wondering why Chris wanted to return to his old homestead – maybe to prove to himself that it was gone. But it didn't really matter. If Chris wanted to go, Vin would go with him.

The rest of the day passed quietly, restfully, the two men playing cards and talking. Chris even spent a couple of hours reading another book out loud. When they were hungry, they ate, and when they grew tired, they went to bed.

Larabee insisted that Vin use the small bed so his side wouldn't be sore for the ride the next day. Tanner started to argue, but then changed his mind, the thought of spending a night in Chris's bed too appealing to pass up. The gunslinger rolled out both of their bedrolls and slept on the floor near the stove.

Over the course of the night, both men had unsettling dreams full of furtive touches, pent up desires, and a search for someone who could end the want, the need.

They rose with the sun, ate a hearty meal, and then headed out to prepare their horses for the trip.

Saturday, 6 p.m.

They rode into Eagle Bend and took a room at the hotel. After they dropped their saddlebags off in their room, they walked across the street to a restaurant for a late dinner, which both men enjoyed.

After the meal, they stopped by the saloon for a drink, avoiding the various card games and opting for a table in a far corner of the room where the shadows hid their faces from the other patrons.

Chris was quieter than usual and Vin didn't press him, content to just spend time in the man's company. After an hour or so, Larabee rose and Tanner followed him back to the hotel where they climbed into their beds and quickly fell asleep, the long ride having taken more out of both of them than they'd expected.

Sunday 10 a.m.

They rode slowly into the yard of the old Larabee homestead. The charred remains of the house looked like the huge, blacked ribcage of some animal, and Vin shivered as a chill snaked its way down his back. The barn still looked like it was in good shape, but the corral was starting to fall down.

Tanner sat on Peso and watched as Chris dismounted, tied his gelding to a corral rail, and then walked over to the two graves. The wooden markers were starting to fade and Vin wondered what it would cost to put up stone markers. He decided he'd ask when he got back to Eagle's Bend, or maybe in Four Corners. If he had them made there, he could cart them back out here in his wagon.

Larabee knelt down and reached to caress both names with the tips of his fingers. Tanner turned away, determined to give Chris his privacy to grieve. He dismounted and walked over to the barn, leaning back again the wall and staring out at the landscape. It was a nice location, green, creek on the property, and the hills in the distance, catching the clouds.

Vin wasn't sure how much time passed before Chris joined him, and he didn't care. He was willing to give Larabee whatever time he needed.

"Sorry," the blond said softly.

"Nothin' t' be sorry fer."

"I guess I just needed to see for myself it was gone… They were gone."

Tanner nodded. Then, glancing around, he frowned and asked, "Where's the tree?"

"Tree?" Chris asked him, confused.

"The big tree by the barn," the tracker said.

Chris snorted softly and shook his head, a small, sad smile on his face. "Always wished there was one," he said. "Adam wanted a swing. I put one up for him in the barn."

Vin nodded, amazed again by how real the dream – or whatever it was – had been. "Y' ain't alone, Chris," he said softly, seeing the pain in the gunslinger's green eyes.

Larabee nodded, but the pain remained. "Sometimes I just miss them so much it feels like I'm dyin'… but I never do."

"Don't think they'd want y' to, d' ya?"

Chris smiled again, this one a little wider. "No, I know they wouldn't."

"Will y' tell me 'bout her?" Vin asked him.

Larabee looked up, hope and fear warring in his eyes.

"I'd like t' hear."

Chris led then into the barn, taking a seat on some of the old bales of hay. Sunlight shone down on them, warming them as he began to speak. And he kept talking, all day, telling Vin how he'd met Sarah, courted, and married her. He told the tracker how they had picked out the homestead, and how he'd started raising horses. He cried a little when he explained how she's broken the news of her pregnancy, his fear as she'd endured the hard hours of labor, and the feeling that had filled his heart as he'd held his infant son for the first time.

Vin laughed when Chris told him about Adam's first words, first steps, and his relationship with his "Uncle Buck." Tanner asked questions and prodded whenever the man's words began to falter and, when Chris reached the story behind their loss, Vin reached out, resting his hand compassionately on the man's shaking shoulder.

It was that unspoken support that gave Chris the strength he needed to go on, telling Vin about how he and Buck had gone down to Mexico to look at a blooded stallion whose offspring was going to be auctioned, and how they had decided to spend the night there before riding home in the morning. Buck had met a pretty little Mexican gal and was sparking her, and Chris had wanted an opportunity to look the animals over one last time.

When they had gotten back the next day, it was far too late to do anything. The house looked like it did now, the ruins smoldering. He had plunged into the embers, screaming, searching. He'd found the remains, large and small, unrecognizable.

He and Buck had dug the graves, buried them, and made the markers. Then they rode into Eagle Bend. Chris drank a whole bottle down and cried himself to sleep.

"I died a little that day," he said thickly, his voice rough with overuse. "Guess I've been dyin' a little every day since, too."

Vin gave the man's shoulder a squeeze, saying, "Ain't gonna let y' die, Chris."

Larabee looked up, meeting the man's gaze. He was surprised by what he saw in the startling blue depths – love. He shivered. He pushed to his feet, feeling weak and drained. "Come on," he husked. "Let's ride."

They walked to their horses and headed back to town. Larabee had no appetite, but he forced himself to eat anyway. Then they headed straight back to the hotel. Vin ordered a bath sent up and before long a young man had a tub filled with steaming water.

"Y' wanna go first?" Tanner asked his friend.

Chris shook his head. "No, you go ahead."

Tanner undressed, Chris getting a good look at the man's side, which was still bruised, although the wound was healing rapidly. Another scar to add to the impressive collection the tracker carried.

Larabee frowned, realizing that each of those scars represented a moment when Vin had been hurting, and probably alone. Anger flared in the pit of his stomach at the thought. He didn't want to think about Vin being alone and hurting, but it had clearly happened, many times. Well, no more. The tracker had friends now, family. He wouldn't suffer alone any more. And neither would Chris.

The realization shook him deep in his soul. He wasn't alone any more either. One of the things that had haunted him after Sarah's and Adam's deaths was the fact that he was alone. Buck had been there, true, but Buck was his friend. Good friend, best friend, but still, just a friend, and that just wasn't the same as what he'd lost. It wasn't enough to fill the gaping hole in his heart. He'd lost his love.

And now he'd found another. The thought made no sense, but he knew it was true. Love… He had love in his life again.

His gaze went to the tracker, who was rinsing the soap out of his shoulder-length hair. Did he love Vin? Like he had Sarah?

The answer was obvious and it filled his chest with warmth he'd never expected to feel again. Yes. He loved Vin, had for a long time, but he hadn't understood it, hadn't recognized it for what it was. And now that he did understand it, what the hell did he do about it?

When Vin stood and reached for one of the towels that had been left for them, Chris's breath caught in his chest. Even dripping wet, Vin Tanner was damned easy on the eyes – all compact muscle and untamed grace. A light dusting of hair on the man's chest was thicker on his lower belly, like an arrow aimed straight at the tracker's groin.

Larabee swallowed hard as his gaze was drawn to Vin's manhood, dripping water as the tracker dried his hair. And then the man was climbing out and drying the rest of his body.

"Y' gonna get in?" Tanner asked him.

"Huh?" he replied, then shook his head and stood, undressing quickly and taking Vin's place in the tub. The water was still wonderfully warm and he quickly soaped his body and his hair. He rinsed and only then leaned back to enjoy the effect the warm water had on his muscles.

Vin pulled on his long johns and lay down on his bed, watching the gunslinger. Chris met the tracker's eyes, wishing he could read what he was seeing there. But Chris was afraid that anything he thought he saw was just what he wanted to see. And what he wanted to see was desire, need, longing.

And he did see those things in the hooded blue eyes – those and more.

Love… It all came down to love. If what he saw in the man's eyes was true, Vin Tanner loved him. And, when he stopped to think about it, it was the very same look that he'd seen when Vin had arrived in his dream. The same look that had been in his eyes even after Chris had beat him. And it was the same look as when the tracker had come back for him in the fog.

He couldn't deny the truth, the sureness of the knowing. Vin Tanner loved him. And he loved Vin.

But still, what was he supposed to do about it? How did he tell the man? What did he say?

All of a sudden he was scared, nervous, and horny as hell.

Chris stood and grabbed a towel, turning his back to Tanner as he quickly dried himself and dressed in his long johns. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he forced himself to look over at Tanner, who was now stretched out on his bed, his arms folded and pillowing his head. His shirt was unbuttoned, his chest visible. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I want to thank you for today," in a more or less normal tone of voice and for that he was grateful.

Tanner nodded, but didn't say anything, blue eyes still half-closed.

Chris drew in a deep breath and added, "I learned something today."

"Y' did?"

Larabee nodded. "Thought I'd never find love in my life again, but now I know that isn't true. It's in my life, I just didn't see it."

The corners of Vin's mouth curled up. "Y' got six friends who love y' like family, Cowboy."

Larabee nodded. "And one who, I think, loves more than that." He heard Vin's soft gasp and smiled. "You do, don't you," he said, more statement of fact than a question.

Tanner sat up, holding Chris's gaze. "Ain't never felt 'bout anybody like I feel 'bout ya," he said softly. The gaze dropped to his bed. "Don't rightly understand it."

Chris chuckled softly. "Well, that makes two of us." And with that he pushed off his bed and crossed over to Tanner's, sitting down on the edge. "All I do know is… when I'm with you, I can feel again. I'm not dead inside any more."

Vin looked up, blue eyes locking on green, hunger and yearning flashing in both. Chris made the first move, reaching out to tenderly touch Vin's face.

The tracker's eyes dropped closed and his body sagged as he moaned so softly Larabee wasn't even sure he'd really heard him, but he saw the tracker's body quaking, and the evidence of his growing arousal.

Not sure what he should do, Larabee leaned forward, his lips capturing Tanner's in a light, tentative kiss.

The feel of Vin's lips on his made Chris's skin tingle, and the light brush of Tanner's whiskers, scratching his chin, seemed to send small lightning bolts of desire straight into his groin. He leaned forward, forcing Vin down onto his back.

Chris felt Vin's lips open and he dared a first taste of the tracker's mouth. Instantly, Tanner was probing his mouth, the kiss turning more passionate and more aggressive.

Vin reached up, grabbing Chris's sides and holding on as he squirmed and moaned into the kiss. Larabee let him up a moment later, asking, "Did I hurt you?"

"Hell no," Tanner panted.

His gaze tracing along Vin's body, Chris grinned when he saw the man's erection tenting the front of his long johns. Without thinking, he reached down and pressed the turgid penis flat against Tanner's belly. The tracker's hips pressed up and he arched his back as his eyes closed and he groaned lowly.

"Chris," he breathed. "Yer hands on me are like a sunrise on a cold mornin'."

Larabee chuckled softly. The man really was a poet. "The sun's comin' up," he half-growled, giving the man a hard squeeze.

"Ah!" Tanner gasped and Chris saw a small wet spot form on the cloth of the tracker's long johns. He rubbed his thumb over it. "Shit!" Vin yelped.

Larabee grinned, feeling his own cock fill. Rolling closer to Tanner, he drove the head of his hard-on against Vin's. That got the tracker's attention, and the next few minutes passed in a flurry of activity, clothes being removed, bodies being explored with increasingly familiar touches. And then, with hands on each other's cocks, they began to pull and stroke, squeeze and rub, until their bodies were shaking and they were shooting their seed into each other's hands.

They collapsed back on the bed, panting for breath, their sweating bodies pressed tightly together. Then they rolled up and stood. They used the cool water to clean themselves before returning to Chris's bed.

Lying together in the dark, Larabee said, "I don't want this to stop once we get back to Four Corners."

"Don't want it to ever end, Cowboy."

"Good."

And they pressed close together, falling asleep in each other's arms. Their dreams this time was a sweet kisses and soft touches that left them floating on a cloud of happiness neither man had felt in a long, long time.

Monday 4 a.m.

Chris awoke slowly, his body warm and pressed up tightly against someone . . . Vin, he realized. The tracker was still sleeping, body spooned against Larabee's. It felt more comfortable, more right than anything he'd felt in years… anything since Sarah.

How is that possible? he wondered. How could he love a man like he'd loved her? He found no answer, but he knew it was true nonetheless.

Reaching out, he ran his hand over Vin's arm and hip. The tracker made a soft noise and pressed back tighter against Larabee.

Chris grinned, enjoying the feel of the man's skin under his hand. As he rubbed over various scars he wished that he could kiss them all away, along with the pain they must have brought the man. But that was impossible.

His hand continued to roam over Tanner's skin, sliding over his chest to tease at the twin hard pebbles he found there. That brought an immediate response: Vin sucked in a sharp breath and his hips jerked back, his ass grinding against Larabee's groin.

"Easy," Chris whispered, his hands still moving, lower this time, seeking out the tracker's cock. When he found it, his fingers closed around it and he sighed, feeling whole again for the first time in three years.

"Chris," Vin whispered. "Chris… ah hell," he moaned as Larabee's hand began to move along his shaft.

Chris's own cock swelled and he shoved his hips forward, mashing it into the back of Tanner's thighs as he continued to massage the tracker's cock.

They fell into a rhythm, Vin rocking his hips back as Chris's thrust forward. Larabee's hand moving up and down Tanner's shaft while his own cock was frictioned against Vin's backside. Before long, both men were spilling their seed for a second time.

And, afterwards, they lay in each other's arms, sharing secrets and stories that neither had thought they would ever tell another living soul.

Breakfast followed, large meals for both of them, and then they were on the trail again, headed for home.

They reached Chris's cabin just before sunset. Their horses taken care of, the two men went inside to eat a light meal and then headed off to bed.

This time their loving was slow and careful, full of exploration and attention to the other man's pleasure. Discovering what made the other feel good was the goal, and both were relentless in their pursuit. Mouths and hands were their tools, and they employed them in every way they could imagine.

They fell asleep, holding one another, and they dreamed.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Vin walked into the yard of the ranch and glanced around for Chris. He found the man, leaning against the large tree next to the barn. Walking over, he smiled and asked, "Why're we here, Chris?"

"Not sure," the gunslinger said with a shrug.

Vin moved closer, leaning against the tree next to Chris, looking off in the same direction he was – at the house. But no one stepped out.

"Yer gonna miss her, Chris," he said softly, knowing what he was looking for now. "Yer always gonna miss her."

"Like you still miss your ma?"

Vin nodded. "Yep… and m' Kiowa family."

"You think they're waiting for us?"

"Like t' think so, yeah."

"Think they know what we're doing?"

"Reckon they might." When Chris didn't reply, Vin added, "Reckon my ma and yer Sarah would want us t' be happy… Are y' happy, Cowboy?"

Chris hesitated for a moment, then looked at the tracker and nodded. "Yeah, I am. Been a long time, but I really am."

Vin smiled, his cheeks flushing with color. "Me too."

"I don't understand this, any of this, but I am happy. I never thought I'd feel happy again… feel love again."

"Then it's time t' go."

"Yeah," Chris agreed. "I guess I just needed to see it one more time… so I'll remember. I want to remember, always."

"Hell, Chris, I ain't gonna let y' ferget."

Chris looked back at the tracker. "You aren't?"

"Nope," Vin said. "The folks we love, the memories, them are all we really got once they're gone. Memories an' what they taught us. What did Sarah teach y', Chris?"

Larabee thought for a moment, and then he said, "She taught me how to laugh… What it was to give yourself to someone, completely…"

Vin nodded. "She taught y' t' be the man I know. The man I love. Ain't never gonna let y' ferget the woman who did that."

"You're right. She taught me how to love." He smiled at Tanner. "And now, I love you."

"Thanks t' her."

Chris glanced back at the house, then at the tracker. "Come on," he said, "let's go home."

They turned and started away. And, in the window of the small house, Sarah Larabee watched them go, smiling.

The End

Feedback

Author's Note: This story first appeared in the Mag 7 zine, Seven Card Stud #5, published by Neon RainBow Press, Cinda Gillilan and Jody Norman, editors. The gen version of this story, "Walking in Another Man's Soul," was written by Patricia Grace and appeared in the multi-media zine, Let's Ride #2.

When we all decided to post the stories that have appeared in the issues of Seven Card Stud that are more than two years old, we opted to use a generic pen name because, while Patricia Grace (gen) and Lorin Zane (slashy bits) are the primary authors of this story, she had so much help from the other folks writing for the press that it just made sense to consider the story to be written by the Neon RainBow Press Collective! Resistance was futile. So, thanks to the whole Neon Gang – Sierra Chaves, Michelle Fortado, Patricia Grace, Erica Michaels, Nina Talbot, Kasey Tucker, and Lorin and Mary Fallon Zane. Story lasted edited 10-5-2005. Art by Shiloh (shigal13@excite.com)