Josiah Sanchez held up his shot glass to the sunlight that strayed in above the cantina’s batwing doors. The slanted rays sifted through the whiskey, spiraling it with amber and golden brown hues as Josiah slowly turned the base of the glass with his fingertips. Staring into the liquor’s facets, he pondered the path that had led him to this tiny hellhole called Medino. Again.

He glanced across the table at his companions, Chris Larabee, Vin Tanner, JD Dunne, and Nathan Jackson. Together they’d downed one bottle of whiskey and had just opened another. After the incident with the nuns, their young wards, and the Tennessee stud, they’d traveled a couple days across the devil’s playground. Buck’s leg hadn’t been healing as quickly as it should’ve, and Nathan thought a few days’ rest in Medino would speed his recovery along.

Josiah didn’t think the bedrest that Buck was getting was exactly what Nathan had in mind. But, then, Buck drew women to him like a candle drew moths – Josiah only hoped he didn’t burn himself up in the flames of youthful indiscretion.

"What’s so funny there, Josiah?" Nathan asked.

Josiah glanced at the healer, noting his half smile and the twinkle in his dark eyes, and couldn’t help but grant him a crooked grin. "I was merely pondering the slings and arrows of that creature called Fate."

Nathan looked over at their companions, and shook his head. "I think that means Josiah’s had enough whiskey."

"Not nearly enough, my friends," Josiah exclaimed. "Ever wonder what hand brought us all together in Four Corners? I mean, men of such diversity," he looked pointedly at Ezra Standish playing poker at a nearby table with a couple of the locals and a dusty peddler. "And yet, here we are. Together."

"You’re right," Vin drawled. "He’s had enough."

Josiah tilted his head to the side, and continued to study the varying light patterns in the liquor. "A man can learn a lot from whiskey."

"Like it’ll rot your gut if you drink too much?" Chris asked with an upraised brow.

Josiah nodded. "That, too." He took a deep breath and sighed, then lifted the shot glass to his lips and swallowed the fiery whiskey in one gulp. "Then again, maybe that’s all there is to know."

"What’s gotten into you, Josiah?" Nathan asked. "You been actin’ almighty strange the last few days." He frowned suspiciously. "It ain’t them damned crows again, is it?"

"I haven’t seen one since we left Four Corners," Josiah replied. "I’ve seen vultures, though."

"If you ask me, they’re worse than crows," JD spoke up, shivering visibly.

"Maybe not worse, but definitely no better."

"What’re you gettin’ at, Josiah?" Nathan asked. "You got another one of those death premonitions?"

Josiah pondered how to answer that question without them thinking he was as crazy as a waltzing pig. "More like a life premonition."

"Huh?" JD asked for all of the confused men.

Josiah poured himself another shot of whiskey and downed it immediately, hoping to dull the sense of unease that gripped him like a desperate spinster. "Probably nothin’ more than that tamale I had last night."

"Yeah, that had me up all night, too," JD said with a nod. "’Course sleepin’ in the same room as Buck, I had to get out and get some fresh air." He scowled. "He had a whole mess of beans with his tamales."

Vin and Nathan chuckled, but Chris studied Josiah with his sharp gaze. Something was bothering the ex-preacher, something that didn’t bode well for anyone.

Buck charged through the swinging doors, his limp considerably less marked than it had been when they’d arrived in Medino. He swung a chair around from another table and insinuated it between JD and Vin, then plopped down. "Howdy pards. Miss me?"

"Were you gone?" JD asked innocently.

The men laughed at Buck’s feigned scowl. "Now, kid, you got to learn to be more respectable to your elders."

"I believe the correct word is respectful," Ezra interjected as he also joined them.

JD gave Buck a smug I-told-you-look, which only served to lengthen Buck’s frown.

Ezra laid a box on the table and opened it up, revealing a checkerboard, but instead of checkers, chess pieces lay in the side compartments.

"Where’d you get that?" Chris asked, picking up the black king.

"I acquired it at the gaming table when Lady Luck deserted the peddler, and settled upon my shoulder," Ezra replied. He examined a knight. "The craftsmanship appears to be exceptional."

"You know how to play?" Vin asked curiously.

"It is one of the many games of which I am quite adept."

"How about showin’ us?" JD asked with youthful enthusiasm.

"Is there anyone here who understands the basic strategies?"

"I do," Josiah replied. "Been a while, but it should come back to me."

Ezra smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I hope so – I do enjoy a challenge."

"As long as you win," Nathan muttered, but a smile tempered his words.

It wasn’t so long ago that a smile wouldn’t have accompanied Nathan’s comment. Even now, an occasional hint of animosity arose between the former slave and the southern gentleman. For the most part, however, the two men respected one another, and a friendship was emerging between them.

As Ezra and Josiah set up the pieces, Ezra attempted to explain the game. "Chess is a game of skill and strategy which requires each player to move his sixteen pieces according to a number of rules in order to checkmate his opponent’s king."

The others simply stared at him.

"Let me," Josiah said. He held up the king. "Pretend this is the town of Four Corners." He touched the queen’s head. "And this is Mary Travis."

"Don’t look much like her," Buck interjected, his lips twitching with a wicked grin.

Chris shot him a warning glance, and Buck’s smile faded.

"And all these other pieces are us – protecting the town, the king, along with Miz Travis," Josiah said.

"And the other king would be like Stuart James and his men trying to capture the town," JD interjected enthusiastically.

"I do believe there is hope for you yet," Ezra teased.

After getting the pieces set up, Ezra began. Josiah moved a pawn in response to Ezra’s move, and the game went fairly quickly for the first few minutes, then the pace slowed considerably.

While Ezra and Josiah studied the board and the pieces for an endless amount of time, JD shifted in his chair restlessly. After all he drank, he needed to take a walk. He stood.

"Goin’ someplace?" Buck asked with a sparkle in his eye that told JD he knew exactly where he was going.

"No place I need a wet nurse," he tossed back.

"Now don’t go gettin’ lost."

"If I do, I’ll just follow the hot air."

JD walked out of the saloon and around the corner of the building to follow the alley to the back where he found an outhouse that would’ve made Top Hat Bob’s breath smell good. Debating his options, JD decided he’d best not breathe too deep and hurry his business. In and out in record time, JD buttoned the last button on his trousers and headed back to the saloon.

"Look, I got no quarrel with you."

JD glanced down the boardwalk. About thirty feet away, he saw a middle-aged man talking to another man wearing a tied-down rig and smoking a cigarette. JD backed into the shadows, and hoped they didn’t notice him.

"You’re moving your cattle to El Paso, so that means we got us a quarrel," the younger hired gun stated.

"You tell your boss that Sam Barkley is takin’ his cows across that open range and he ain’t gonna stop me," the gray-haired man shot back.

"And how do intend to do that? All your men quit on you. Of course I can’t blame them after that run of bad luck you’ve been having, Barkley."

Sam Barkley’s shoulders tensed and JD could feel the effort it cost him to keep from going for his gun. "You and your band of killers are the only bad luck I been havin’, Slade"

The man named Slade laughed harshly, a grating sound that reminded JD of a braying jackass. "That bad luck is bound to find you again if you try taking your cattle across Mr. Connor’s land." He tipped his hat mockingly. "Have a good day, Mr. Barkley."

The hired gun turned and went in the opposite direction of JD, his spurs ringing against the wood. Barkley spotted JD and shot him an irritated scowl. "Ain’t you got nothing better to do than listen in on business that ain’t yours?"

JD’s face burned, but his sense of justice won out over his embarrassment at being caught eavesdropping. "It don’t seem right for him to be gettin’ away with that. Isn’t there a sheriff here?"

"Look around, son. There ain’t much of anything here, except a few rawhide tough ranchers like myself trying to make a go of it." He studied JD a little closer. "You lookin’ for a job?"

"I’m just passin’ through with some friends."

"I could make it worth your while. I got me a thousand head of cattle that have to be herded down to Fort Davis, east of El Paso – that’s about three hundred miles from here. If you sign on, I’ll deal you in for a piece of the profit."

"How many others you got?"

Barkley’s face hardened. "None yet, but that ain’t gonna stop me. My wife Millie and me ain’t gonna let Connor run us off. We been here for nigh onto twenty years now."

JD was tempted, but he couldn’t abandon his friends, and he knew Vin wasn’t likely to want to go three hundred miles in the wrong direction. "Sorry, but I can’t," he said apologetically. "We got business up Tascosa way."

Barkley’s expression fell, but JD could tell the man’s pride wouldn’t let him beg. "All right, son, but iffen you change your mind, come on out to the Circle B, about twenty miles south of here."

JD nodded. "Good luck, sir."

"Luck ain’t gonna do it, son." He patted the forty-five in his holster. "This is the only thing that will."

JD knew what Chris would’ve said about that, but he only nodded and returned to the saloon.

"What kept you, kid? Thought I was goin’ to have to come and pull you out," Buck called out.

Not in any mood for Buck’s ribbing, JD said without force, "Shut up, Buck."

The older man studied JD a moment, and his expression grew serious. "You okay, JD?"

"Never better," he replied sarcastically. The other men glanced questioningly at him, and he lifted his hands. "Can’t a fellah wanna be left alone once in a while? I’m goin’ to sit outside."

JD felt their puzzled gazes on him. Maybe he should’ve told them what he’d witnessed on the street, but it wouldn’t have mattered. No one would want to get involved in a matter that didn’t concern them.

On the boardwalk again, JD settled in a rickety chair that had a front leg shorter than the other three. He stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles, and rocked the uneven chair. He shouldn’t care if an old man couldn’t find men willing to herd some cattle to a fort in Texas. He shouldn’t care that Barkley was going to be run off his own land. He shouldn’t care, but he did.

"Mind if I join ya?"

Startled, JD glanced up to see Vin standing beside him. "Go ahead."

Vin smiled crookedly and leaned back in an equally decrepit chair. He pulled his harmonica out of his pocket and blew a few off-key notes. "Sometimes talkin’ about it helps."

"Sorry, Vin, but I don’t know nothin’ about harmonica playin’," JD said, intentionally misunderstanding him.

The ex-bounty hunter’s grin grew. "You been hangin’ ‘round Buck and Josiah too long."

A sheepish smile tugged at JD’s lips. "Sorry. It’s just that I ran into this fellah who’s havin’ a tough time."

"How so?"

JD explained the situation to Vin who listened without interrupting, a nice change from Buck’s constant stream of remarks.

"You think we should help him?" Vin asked quietly.

"We can’t. We’re headed to Tascosa – gotta clear your name."

Vin played a half-recognized tune on his harmonica, and JD could tell his mind was sifting through Barkley and his problems.

JD searched the town for the older rancher and spotted him down a block, just coming out of one of the other saloons.

"That’s Barkley over there," JD pointed out the slump-shouldered man to Vin.

"Looks like he didn’t have much luck findin’ any wranglers," Vin commented.

"Doubt if he will." JD spied Slade around the corner of a building across the street. "That’s the hired gun who I was tellin’ you about."

Vin looked at the shootist, then at Barkley, and his eagle gaze dashed about the town, noting a man on a roof, another behind the door of the livery, and still another in the shadows of an alley. His chair legs thumped to the boardwalk. "Get the others, JD. There’s gonna be trouble."

JD hesitated only a split second – Vin wasn’t one to be crying wolf – and dashed into the saloon.

"Trouble," he shouted to the others.

A flurry of gunshots punctuated his announcement, spurring the men into action.

Chris led the men out the batwing doors, his Colt already cradled in his palm. Bullets plowed into the doorframe and a nearby wood post, sending the six men diving for cover. Chris rolled behind a pile of crates, and a loose nail sliced across the back of his hand, drawing blood. He cursed the sting, and found Ezra next to him in the scant protection.

"You seen Vin?" he asked Ezra.

"Right behind ya," Vin’s voice answered.

Chris twisted about to see Vin tucked behind a water barrel, his sawed-off carbine gripped in his hands. "You okay?"

"Yep. There’s four shooters," he said in the same unruffled tone he used when he was playing poker or caught in the middle of a gunfight.

Chris peered around the crates, drawing a couple close bullets, and Ezra raised himself to snap off two shots at their attackers.

"Who’re they after?" Chris called out.

"A rancher named Barkley," Vin replied. "A new friend of JD’s."

Chris frowned, but now wasn’t the time to get the details. "Let’s see if we can flush them out. Ezra, cover me and Vin."

Ezra nodded, and fired off a few shots while Chris and Vin rushed for cover behind a wagon. Having a better vantage point, the two men took aim and sent wood splinters at the gunmen. With the loss of their advantage, the hired guns turned tail and ran.

Chris and his compadres raised themselves cautiously, and when no gunfire greeted them, they regrouped on the street. Chris was relieved to see none of the men had been injured, although Buck’s limp seemed more pronounced again. His own superficial wound didn’t bother him – he’d been hurt worse shaving – but he did wrap a bandanna from his duster pocket around it.

Chris watched as JD strode over to a middle-aged man.

"Are you all right, Mr. Barkley?" JD asked.

Barkley removed his hat and mopped his perspiring face with a handkerchief. "Thanks to you and your friends."

Chris and the other men joined them.

"I’m obliged to you," Barkley stated. His gaze passed across the men, and settled on Josiah. Barkley’s eyes widened and bitter anger flooded his granite features. "Sanchez, damn you to hell."

Josiah stared into the face of a man he’d hoped never to run into again. "Already been there," he said softly. "Been a while, Barkley."

"Five years and four months," Barkley said without hesitation. "You have a lot of guts showin’ up here."

"I’m not going to make any excuses, but he didn’t give me a choice."

"You didn’t have to kill him. You coulda just wounded him."

"And he would’ve been hung or thrown in prison for the rest of his life," Josiah said quietly. "I think he made his choice."

"He was only nineteen years old."

"He was a man."

"Someone wanna tell us what the hell is goin’ on," Buck said plaintively.

"You with Sanchez?" Barkley demanded.

Buck nodded. "That’s right."

"Don’t much care for your choice of friends."

"Josiah and his friends just saved your ass," Chris said flatly, his green eyes boring a hole into the rancher.

Barkley didn’t flinch beneath Chris’s intimidating stare, but remained silent for a long moment. "And I’m grateful for your help." He turned to JD. "Thanks, son, and that offer still stands."

"Those men are gonna try’n kill you again," JD said.

"I know and one of these days they’re gonna succeed, but as long as I got breath in my lungs, I’m gonna fight the bastards." He sent Josiah a razor-sharp look. "Tell me one thing, Sanchez. How the hell can you sleep at night?" And with that, he strode away.

Josiah’s complexion was paler than Chris had ever seen it, and he resisted the impulse to lay a steadying hand on the big man’s arm. Instead, his fingers curled into fists. Without a word, Josiah crossed the street and entered the saloon.

"We’d better make sure he don’t do somethin’ stupid," Nathan said.

"I want to know what’s goin’ on between them two," Buck added.

Chris glared at his oldest friend. "It’s Josiah’s past, Buck. We got no right takin’ it from him."

"Maybe, but then maybe talkin’ about it’ll help some, too."

Chris forced himself to meet Buck’s even gaze, and knew he wasn’t only referring to Josiah. He bit the inside of his cheek and tasted blood. Damn Buck for wanting to dredge up the past.

With a muttered curse, Chris followed the others to the saloon and joined their somber companion.

"You wanna talk about it?" Nathan asked quietly.

Josiah planted his elbows on the chair’s arms, and steepled his fingers. "Not much to talk about, Nathan. There’s a lot of things I’ve done I ain’t too proud of – killing that man’s son is one of them."

Chris removed his hat and pulled a restless hand through his unruly reddish-blonde hair. He had a feeling Josiah’s story could be his own, and he didn’t want to hear it. But it looked like he didn’t have a choice, unless he was willing to walk out of the saloon.

"What happened?" Buck prompted, ignoring Chris’s warning look.

"I was hired by a local rancher – he had the biggest spread around – to keep law and order in Medino," Josiah began.

"You were a lawman?" JD interrupted.

Josiah smiled without humor. "Not exactly. In those days, I worked for whoever would pay me. Sam Barkley’s only son, Jeff, was working to get the smaller ranchers to band together. He was doing too good of job of it and that’s why I was brought in."

Josiah poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it before continuing. "Jeff wasn’t exactly an angel himself and he shot down a couple of the men who worked for my employer – one of them died."

"So he was a murderer," Buck stated.

Josiah shrugged. "His enemies saw him as one, but the ranchers saw him as a hero. One night he slipped into town to see this girl he was sweet on. I caught him the next morning when he was leaving. He was quicker, but my aim was better. He died on the street."

Chris could picture the scene Josiah described as easily as if he’d been there. And he probably had – only the town had been different.

Josiah glanced at JD. "There ain’t anything romantic about watching a man die, JD."

The younger man swallowed hard, and dropped his gaze to the scarred table.

"What’d you do?" Vin asked.

"I got my money and left town that afternoon. And this is the first time I’ve been back since that day. I never figured Barkley would still be here."

"And it looks like he’s got the same problem he had five years ago," Buck said.

"Looks like it."

The men were silent, and Chris studied his hat brim although his mind was remembering his own Jeff Barkleys. If he could turn back the hands of time, he’d do things differently. Yeah, and if frogs had wings, they wouldn’t bump their asses on rocks either, he thought grimly. Life didn’t give folks a second chance.

"I know I said I’d go to Tascosa with you," Josiah began, "but I’ve got a debt to pay. I’m going to stay and help Barkley."

JD looked about nervously, and cleared his throat. "I’ll stay with you, Josiah."

"You crazy, kid?" Buck demanded. "This ain’t your fight."

"Maybe not, but it ain’t right for Mr. Barkley to be driven off his own land neither." He removed his derby hat, and raked his fingers through his thick, dark hair. "Seems to me a man’s got to stand for something, and this is something I can’t turn my back on."

Buck muttered something about not having the brains God gave a mule, then shook his head. "Looks like I’m goin’ to have to hang around just to make sure you don’t up and do something stupid, like get killed before I can talk you into buyin’ a real hat."

JD glared at him. "This is a real hat. Bat Ma—"

"I know, Bat Masterson got one just like it," Buck finished as he rolled his eyes heavenward. "And iffen I ever run into Bat again, I aim to tell him he ought to buy a real hat, too."

Chris caught Vin’s eye, and recognized the clenched jaw and shuttered expression. Vin was considering staying, too. It shouldn’t have surprised Chris, knowing Vin’s propensity to lend a hand to those who needed help. It was an admirable quality, but Vin had to look out for himself, too, and if he didn’t do it, Chris felt obliged to.

"You gotta get to Tascosa," Chris said in a low voice.

"It ain’t goin’ nowhere," Vin reiterated his usual litany with a crooked smile.

Chris shook his head firmly. "Damnit, Vin, you’re pushin’ your luck. You need to clear your name before some bounty hunter shoots you dead."

Vin’s expression sobered. "Maybe, but at least I’ll die with a clear conscience. Iffen I leave and clear my name, but that old man is killed ‘cause I didn’t stay and help, I would be guilty of murder."

Chris blinked, trying to follow Vin’s twisted brand of logic. In a way, he made sense and that galled Chris. Folks started caring for others, and they were bound to get hurt. He cursed aloud, startling his partners with his vehemence. "All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you."

Ezra frowned. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but what exactly are we determining?"

For a moment there was silence, then JD replied. "Mr. Barkley has a thousand head of cattle to move to Fort Davis near El Paso."

Ezra’s practiced poker face slipped. "You mean, we are to become cowboys – " he glanced at Chris, "—no offense intended, and herd one thousand cantankerous, offensive bovines three hundred miles simply because an old man needs assistance."

"That’s what we’re sayin’," Nathan said flatly.

He laughed, but the gesture didn’t touch his pale green eyes. "That, my friends, takes the proverbial cake."

"It ain’t funny, Ezra," JD stated. "He’s gonna be killed if we don’t help him."

"And we may meet our Maker much earlier than I plan to," Ezra countered. "If this plan is agreed upon, you may rest assured I will not be joining you. I will, however, travel to Tascosa and rendezvous with you all there."

It was rare that Chris agreed with Ezra, but this was one of those instances. However, he kept silent out of respect for Vin and the others. Whether it was a mistake or not, six of them would be risking their lives for a man all but one of them just met.

"You got a right to state your mind, Ezra," Josiah said. "And I respect you for it."

Bewildered chagrin flashed through Ezra’s smooth-shaven features. He quickly recovered, his schooled expression slipping back into place. "Thank you, Mr. Sanchez."

"You know where this fellah Barkley lives?" Vin asked JD.

The younger man nodded. "He told me where his ranch was."

"The day’s almost gone. We’ll get an early start tomorrow and hire on," Chris said. "You ever herd cattle, JD?"

"No, but I read about it."

Buck snorted. "Looks like I got my work cut out for me – don’t know what’s gonna be more troublesome, the cattle or teachin’ JD how to be a cow-boy."

"Cow-hand, Buck," Chris corrected with a slight smile, although his eyes were cool and distant.

"No matter what nomenclature you give it, the employment is arduous and has appallingly low monetary remuneration," Ezra said.

"You ever done it?" Nathan challenged.

Ezra brushed some dust from his frilly white shirt. "A gentleman does not debase himself by engaging in menial labor."

"Your point?" Nathan pressed.

"I am a gentleman," Ezra replied indignantly.

Buck barked a laugh. "Yeah, and Stuart James is a saint, too."

Suddenly Chris had an overpowering urge to escape the saloon’s confines. He stood. "We’d best get some sleep. Morning’s gonna come fast." He turned to Ezra and offered his hand. After a moment of surprised hesitation, Ezra gripped it firmly. "Good luck, Ezra. See you in Tascosa."

Each of the men shook hands with Ezra, then followed Chris out of the saloon.

Once they were gone, Ezra glanced around at the empty whiskey glasses and the chess pieces scattered across the board. Having spent the majority of his life alone, Ezra was not a man to be afflicted with loneliness. Until now. He’d grown accustomed to the company of the six men. With a start, he realized he’d come to rely on them to back him up if a poker game got ugly. And he was always ready to come to the defense of his companions.

He picked up the chess pieces and laid them carefully in their box. Ezra studied the king in his hand. He had promised to go to Tascosa and help Vin clear his name. But what if Vin was killed before the tracker could rectify the situation?

When Ezra had first met Vin, he hadn’t been impressed. On the contrary, the man wore a coat and hat that no self-respecting gentleman would be caught dead in – and definitely not alive in. But the more he got to know the plainspoken man, the more Ezra came to respect him. The incident with the mountain lions had brought the two men closer than Ezra had thought possible.

The other five men had also gotten past his layered defenses – defenses he’d spent years building and fortifying against such things as friendships. Getting close to others was akin to drawing a busted hand when all the chips were on the table. He’d learned that the hard way and had the scars to prove it.

With a ponderous sigh, he set the king in the container with the other pieces and closed the box. He might only be the equivalent of a pawn, but he had an obligation to defend and protect those who deserved his loyalty.

A chuckle escaped him as he imagined what his mother would have to say about such maudlin drivel.

The sun hadn’t even begun to peek over the eastern horizon when the six men entered the livery. A couple lanterns lit the interior giving the men scant light to saddle their horses and tie their gear on.

Buck yawned widely. "I should be curled up to some sweet-smellin’ thing right now instead of lookin’ at all your ugly faces."

"No one’s forcin’ you to go," JD said.

"Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t ya? You go off on some wild west adventure by yourself and you’re bound to get in all kinds of trouble. Then what’re you gonna do?"

JD shrugged innocently. "I don’t know, Buck. Why, it’s a downright miracle how I made it all the way to Four Corners by myself." He winked at Josiah.

Josiah smiled slightly, glad for the diversion. He’d spent a restless night tossing and turning as his mind relived the death of Jeff Barkley. Josiah had killed men – more than he cared to recall – but Jeff had been the youngest. Looking at JD, he could almost imagine him as Jeff Barkley. Jeff had been full of piss and vinegar, too, and ready to fight a righteous cause, just like JD had recklessly gotten involved in the elder Barkley’s problems.

Before he joined up with Chris and the others, Josiah had given up on righteous causes. Nobody did anything without an ulterior motive – hadn’t that realization been the destroyer of his faith? A faith he was slowly starting to regain. Helping Sam Barkley wouldn’t bring back Jeff, but it might remove a festering growth in Josiah’s soul.

The livery door opened and a man’s faint outline could be seen entering.

"Good morning," Ezra greeted in a gravelly voice as he neared them. He wore his buckskin jacket along with a pair of brown trousers not nearly as fancy as his normal haberdashery.

"Heading out to Tascosa already?" Vin asked wryly.

"Unfortunately not," Ezra replied. "I decided an opportunity to broaden my horizons should not be spurned. Perhaps doing some menial labor, I shall divine more respect for, shall we say, cow-hands and their chosen profession."

JD poked Buck in the ribs, and whispered, "What’d he say?"

"He’s goin’ with us," Buck replied.

JD grinned widely. "I’m glad you’re comin’ with us, Ezra."

The gambler inclined his head slightly, but Josiah could tell JD’s words had touched him. Ezra was a man full of contradictions – an accomplished cardsharp and con man, yet with a streak of vulnerability a mile wide that reminded Josiah of a small boy. Though Josiah had admired Ezra’s mother like a man admires a beautiful woman, he suspected she hadn’t been a very good mother to her son.

Ezra looked over at Chris, a question in his eyes.

A corner of Chris’s lips turned upward.. "Welcome aboard."

Ezra’s entire body seemed to untense, and Josiah realized Ezra hadn’t been sure how his change of heart would be accepted by the others, especially Chris. It was just another example of the insecurity Ezra normally kept hidden behind his self-assured mask.

A few minutes later, the men rode out of Medino with Chris and Vin in the lead. A coral glow spread across the land as the seven men traveled toward Barkley’s ranch. With the sun came a warming of the air, and the broadening light illuminated the bare landscape that was dotted with chaparral and scrub oak. Tufts of buffalo grass stuck up from the sandy soil, and an occasional ground cactus littered the terrain.

The appearance of a group of cottonwoods and an oasis of green heralded the appearance of a decent-sized ranch. The house, as well as the bunkhouse and a handful of outbuildings, however, had seen better days. As had the sagging corral fences that were bleached white by the southwestern desert sun.

Josiah’s shoulders tightened, remembering how neat the place had looked five years ago. It seemed time had a way of touching things as well as people, and usually not for the better.

As they entered the yard, a brown mutt raced out to greet them, and the men’s horses jerked nervously at their bits.

Barkley emerged from the house, a rifle held in his veined hands. He watched them silently, his eyes narrowed, but he kept the weapon lowered. "Buck, get over here."

Buck’s head snapped up, and it took him a moment to realize he and the dog shared the same name. JD snorted with laughter.

The canine Buck joined its master, and sat down on his haunches, its tongue lolling.

The seven men drew to a stop in a line stretched across the front of the porch.

"You men are goin’ the wrong direction – Tascosa is north, not south," Barkley stated.

"We all agreed to help you take your cattle to El Paso," JD spoke up.

Barkley’s jaundiced gaze slid across them, and settled on Josiah. "Why the hell’d you come, Sanchez? Killin’ one Barkley wasn’t good enough for you?"

Josiah’s fingers tightened on the saddlehorn, but he kept his voice steady. "It was self-defense, pure and simple." He shifted, the saddle creaking below his weight. "But maybe I could’ve just wounded him. I don’t know."

"Don’t tell me you got an attack of conscience ‘cause men like you ain’t got a conscience."

"Now you hold on, Mr. Barkley," Nathan broke in. "Josiah’s a good man. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now."

"Nathan’s right, Mr. Barkley," JD said. "There ain’t none of us that want to see you run off your land."

A woman came through the doorway, wiping her hands on a stained apron tied around her waist. "Are these the ones you told me about, Sam?"

Barkley nodded without looking at her. "Yep." He motioned to Josiah. "He’s the one who killed Jeff."

Mrs. Barkley looked at Josiah, but her expression appeared more sad than condemning. "Why’d you come here?"

"We’d like to sign on for the cattle drive," Josiah replied.

She studied each man cautiously, but when her gaze settled on JD, her eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. As if sleepwalking, she went down the steps and stood beside JD’s horse as she stared up at the young man. "How old are you, son?"

"Twenty, ma’am," he replied respectfully, though with an undercurrent of wariness.

"A year older than our Jeff when he died," she said softly. "You look just like him." After a few more moments of quiet contemplation, she returned to her husband’s side on the porch.

Barkley clearly wasn’t sure if he could trust them, and Josiah couldn’t blame him. If their roles were reversed, Josiah wasn’t so sure he could stomach a man who killed his son, either.

"How do I know you aren’t working for your old employer?" Barkley demanded.

Surprise surged through Josiah. "Connor’s still here?"

"Why should he leave? Thanks to you, he owns most of the land around Medino now. Only me and one other rancher have been able to hold out this long," Barkley said flatly.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Barkley," Josiah said sincerely, but knowing his words meant little.

Chris’s big black horse stamped and swished its tail, and Nathan’s mount snorted, shaking its mane. Leather squeaked and bridles jangled in the silence that stretched taut in the midmorning sun-drenched yard.

Mrs. Barkley broke the impasse, and her chin lifted in determination. "They’re our only hope, Sam."

After a moment, the older man’s shoulders sagged and he nodded. "Millie’s right. You’re our only chance to save this place. You can throw your things in the bunkhouse, then meet me at the corral."

"Excuse me," Ezra spoke up.

Barkley turned to him.

"I have no wish to appear avaricious, but what will we be paid for our services?" Ezra asked.

"The seven of you can split twenty five percent of the profit."

"Thirty five," Ezra countered without missing a beat.

Barkley’s brows furrowed. "Thirty and that’s final."

Ezra smiled. "It’s a deal, Mr. Barkley."

Chris rubbed his chin, hiding a smile. Leave it to Ezra to take care of the monetary side of the job. What the hell, he’d gotten them five percent more. He reined his horse around to head toward the bunkhouse and the others fell into line behind him. Dismounting in front of the long sagging porch, Chris felt a damp nose against his palm. He patted the dog’s head.

"Hey, there, Buck," Chris said with a grin.

The animal wagged its tail and followed him into the bunkhouse.

"Looks like you got a new friend," Vin said, tossing his saddlebags on an upper bunk.

Chris put his gear on the lower one. "I wonder if this Buck likes the ladies, too."

"At least he comes by that animal magnetism naturally," JD interjected.

"Hey, mine’s natural," Buck said indignantly.

"A little too natural," Vin said in a low voice that only Chris could hear.

Chris swallowed a chuckle, and looked around their temporary quarters. He figured they’d only be there a few days while the cattle were rounded up, then they’d be camping under the stars. Cobwebs stretched across the ceiling corners and a layer of dirt coated everything.

Ezra slapped his thin mattress and a cloud of dust billowed around him. He sneezed and waved a hand in front of his nose. "I must say the housekeeping leaves a bit to be desired."

"Mrs. Barkley probably got more important things to do than keep this place clean," Vin defended.

"That’s right, wizened crones tend to be more adept at handling a rifle than a broom," Ezra said with a devilish twinkle in his green eyes.

Vin grinned sheepishly. "All right, so she reminds me some of Nettie Wells."

"Too bad she don’t have a niece," Buck said, giving JD a slap on the back.

JD’s face flushed. "How was I to know Casey would clean up as good as she did?"

Buck shook his head pityingly. "You got to start bein’ more noticeable, JD."

"I believe the word is percipient," Ezra corrected.

"Per-what?" Buck demanded.

"It means discerning," Ezra explained. "Noticeable would describe your impression on the fairer sex."

"Hey, now," Buck began in a low voice. "No need to be gettin’ so personal there, Ezra."

"It means that women notice you," he clarified.

"Oh, well, that ain’t nothin’ new," Buck stated with a magnanimous wave of his hand.

"C’mon, let’s go find out where we start," Chris spoke up.

Buck tossed his stuff on the bunk below JD’s, then followed the others out of their quarters. A few minutes later, Sam Barkley joined the seven men near the corral. He deliberately kept his gaze off of Josiah, and focused on JD. Buck frowned, uneasy that the older man seemed to take such an interest in the youngest member of the group. It didn’t help knowing that JD was a ringer for his dead son. It seemed Chris noticed Barkley’s attention, too, if his scowl was any indication.

"Most of the cattle are in a canyon about a mile north of here," Barkley said. "Since I ain’t been able to hire enough help lately, the first thing we gotta do is get the calves and yearlings branded."

"Why?" Chris asked.

Barkley shifted his attention to him. "Why what?" he asked irritably.

"Why haven’t you been able to hire any help?"

Barkley swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. "Connor’s men have been settin’ up accidents."

"Like what?" Buck demanded.

"That’s in the past. It ain’t any of your concern," Barkley snapped.

"The hell it isn’t," Chris stated, his voice cold enough to give a body pneumonia. "We already know there’s men out gunnin’ for you. In order for us to be prepared, we got to know what we’re up against."

Buck nodded in agreement, and he could see the others straightening, listening closely to the less-than-friendly exchange. They could always count on Chris to get everything out in the open. If Buck were Barkley surrounded by seven men, one of whom could scald a cat with his deadly tone, he wouldn’t hesitate to spill his guts.

Barkley and Chris parried hostile stares, but the ranchman finally relented. "Connor’s determined to get my land one way or another. He’s had my water poisoned – lost nearly a hundred head of cattle and one of my men; strung barbed wire through a narrow pass; started a rockslide in a box canyon." Barkley’s face reddened with rage, and his fingers curled into fists. "He even burned some grassland, then shot anyone who tried to put it out. That was the last straw."

"So what you’re sayin’ is that Connor’ll do anything, including commit murder, to get this place," Chris said.

Barkley nodded stiffly. "And you can bet he’s gonna try to stop us from getting the herd to Fort Davis."

Chris’s jaw muscle clenched and he glanced at Vin, who merely met his gaze with a steady look. Buck recognized Chris’s I-told-you-so look, and he wasn’t surprised at Vin’s casual response. Nothing much riled the ex-bounty hunter, not even Chris’s infamous glares.

"That just means we got to keep a sharp lookout for them," Josiah said.

Barkley spun around to face Josiah. "You used to work for the son-of-a-bitch. What’s he gonna try next?"

Josiah shrugged. "A devil can take on many faces."

"And I’m looking into one of’em right now!"

Nathan grabbed hold of Barkley’s arm. "There ain’t no call for you to be takin’ your mad out on Josiah. He bein’ here should be enough to convince you he’s not the same man he was five years ago."

The rancher leaned close to Nathan. "My son is dead because of him, and I got every right to hate him."

Nathan released Barkley, and shook his head sadly. "The only person you’re gonna hurt is yourself by keepin’ so much hate inside. It’s gonna end up destroyin’ you if you don’t let it go."

Barkley kept his gaze on Nathan for a long moment, then spun away and strode about five yards away, keeping his back to the men.

Uneasy silence surrounded the seven men, and JD couldn’t help but feel responsible for all the bad feelings that filled the air. Adjusting his hat nervously, he walked over to join the rancher.

"We’re real sorry about your boy, Mr. Barkley," JD said in a low voice. "And ain’t nobody sorrier than Josiah, but no matter what anyone does or how anyone feels, your son is dead. And nobody can change that."

Barkley took a deep breath and turned to JD. "A father knows his son, and I knowed Jeff wasn’t a saint. Fact is, I wish he’d been more like you, JD."

JD started, unsure how to respond.

Barkley laid a hand on JD’s shoulder. "Whenever I look at you, I see Jeff. Like Millie said, he looked a lot like you – dark hair and eyes – a handsome boy. But he had a wild streak I never knew how to tame. I don’t see that same thing in you, though."

JD shrugged in embarrassment. "Wish you’d tell Buck – he still treats me like a snot-nosed kid."

"It’s only ‘cause he cares, son." He took a deep breath. "We’d better get to work."

They rejoined the others.

"We got a lot of work to do before we head out," Barkley said to the men. "We’d best get at it."

Buck watched as JD’s youthful face glowed with enthusiasm. Had he ever been that green? Reluctantly, he recalled the excitement of his first cattle drive, before he learned of the many dangers involved in the job. Buck would have to make sure JD didn’t learn those hazards the hard way.

And he’d keep an eye on Barkley – he didn’t like the way he was doting on JD. Something just didn’t seem right.

An hour later, the men rode into a grassy canyon where a whole herd of bawling cattle met their eyes. Barkley had driven a buckboard that contained the branding equipment, as well as a barrel of water and a few bags of food that his wife had thrown together for the eight men.

The older man climbed down from the wagon. "The remuda is mixed in with the cattle. You’d each best pick out about a couple horses first and get them separated out so’s you got an extra when your own mount gets tired."

JD glanced questioningly at Buck. "What’s a remuda?"

"A remuda’s the extra horses that each man’s going to use on the drive. You can’t expect your own horse to work eighteen hours a day," Buck replied.

JD’s eyes saucered. "Eighteen hours?"

Buck’s lips twitched with a barely restrained smile. "You didn’t think this was goin’ to be a cakewalk like that sheriff job in Four Corners, did you?"

JD scowled. "Bein’ a lawman wasn’t easy. I got a few scars to prove it."

Buck’s humor disappeared – they had almost lost JD on more than one occasion because of his overzealousness in playing sheriff. Good friends were hard to come by, and Buck would be damned if he lost another one because of a foolish act of bravado. "Yeah, and if you try any fool stunts out here, I’ll hogtie you and you’ll finish the drive in the back of the chuck wagon."

"You ain’t gonna -- " JD began.

"Try me, kid." Buck leveled a stare at him.

JD narrowed his eyes, and his jaw muscle clenched, but he didn’t argue any further.

Buck looked up at the others already picking out their extra horses. "C’mon, JD, or they’re gonna get all the good ponies."

They galloped off, and Buck headed toward a strawberry roan he picked out. Unlooping his lasso, he twirled it above his head. Standing in his stirrups, he tossed the loop and it settled neatly around the animal’s neck. Buck grimaced at the reawakened ache in his injured leg, but shrugged it aside. Hell, he’d hurt worse after that night in Tombstone. Or was it Dodge City? It didn’t matter – only the memory of those amazing feats he and those two fine ladies had accomplished did.

As he led the roan back toward the wagon, he spotted JD roping a paint pony. He had a lot of growing to do, and Buck was damn sure going to make sure he had a chance to do it. Besides, there were some women he wanted to introduce the boy to….

After the remuda was settled in a corral fashioned with ropes strung between four stakes about five feet tall, the men began their work in earnest. As each man dragged a bawling calf or protesting yearling in, Josiah and Nathan held down the animal while Barkley branded it. The smell of burning hair and flesh filled the air around the fire used to keep the irons hot.

Later, after hauling in a couple dozen unbranded calves, Chris took a break on a slight rise overlooking the milling herd. He shoved his hat off his head and let it hang down his back, held by the thin leather cord. Hooking his right leg around the saddlehorn, he stuck a cheroot between his lips and lit it. Chris took a long drag, and the tobacco’s sharp tang bit his lungs with welcome familiarity. Uneasiness dogged him, and the hairs at the back of his neck hadn’t settled down since he’d set foot on Barkley’s land.

It shouldn’t surprise him – they already knew Connor and his men were out to break Barkley. But there seemed to be something else, something he couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe it had something to do with Barkley’s interest in JD. Whatever it was, apprehension was going to be riding his shoulders this whole drive.

Chris shook aside his restlessness, and concentrated on the riders who worked the cattle. Vin and Buck moved with the practiced ease of skilled cow-hands, and JD was catching on fast although Chris had noticed he missed a loop now and again. Nathan and Josiah worked good as a team, and though Barkley largely ignored Josiah, he fell into a efficient routine with them.

Ezra, however, had managed to confound Chris again. He wouldn’t have thought the fancy gambler would know which end of the rope to toss, but he could throw a loop with nearly as much expertise as Vin and Buck.

A rider approached, and Chris watched silently as the subject of his puzzled thoughts joined him.

The southerner took a deep breath. "Ah, to inhale air unpolluted with the stench of those repugnant beasts."

"You sure caught on to this menial labor pretty fast," Chris remarked dryly.

"Yes, amazing, isn’t it?" He brushed at his buckskin jacket, and a brownish cloud arose around him like a dust devil. Sneezing, he gave up and rested his crossed wrists on the saddlehorn. His shoulders slumped.

They sat in companionable silence for a long moment.

"Why’d you come with us?" Chris asked.

"I had nothing better to do," Ezra replied.

"Yeah, and you gamble for charity, too."

Ezra chuckled. "Sometimes it appears so." He sobered, and narrowed his gaze as he studied the tableau laid out before them. "I had the misfortune to drive a herd of cattle from Texas to Kansas. It was either that or remain in a town that had grown increasingly hostile to my attempts to bring the word of the Lord to them."

"One of your swindles?"

The southerner arched one dusty brow. "One of the better ones I have partaken in. I merely had to stand at the front of a group and call down the wrath of the Lord with fire and brimstone, then pass the hat. However, after I attempted to save the soul of the mayor’s daughter, I was faced with the wrath of the townsfolk in the form of hot tar and feathers. To escape such indignity, I joined a herd moving north."

"And you stayed with them the whole way?"

Ezra hesitated, then nodded. "Once we arrived in Dodge City, I found myself surrounded by a plethora of bad gamblers who practically begged me to take their money."

"You could’ve left the herd at any time," Chris pressed.

"Yes, I suppose I could have." Ezra’s gaze met his evenly, and again, Ezra and his unique sense of honor baffled him.

He returned his attention to the scene spread out below them. "Keep your eyes open, Ezra. We’re courtin’ trouble."

"Aren’t we always?"

One corner of Chris’s lips quirked upward. "Guess it’s our destiny, just like that little fellah Steele said."

"We never did get our portion of the royalties for that piece of literature."

Chris snorted. "If that was literature, I’m Wyatt Earp." He finished his cheroot, then tossed it away, wincing slightly at the pain at the back of his hand where the nail had sliced the skin. He slipped his right foot back into the stirrup. "I suppose we’d best get back down there."

"Lead on, Mr. Earp."

Chris flashed him a sardonic grin and the two men rejoined the others.

That evening, the men returned to the ranch sore and exhausted from the backbreaking labor. They dismounted by the corral, and Buck’s injured leg nearly collapsed beneath him.

Nathan reached out to steady him. "I’ll take a look at that when we get to the bunkhouse."

Buck didn’t argue, but gritted his teeth and finished caring for his horse. Buck, the canine, joined them, garnering pats from all seven men, including a reluctant Ezra, then the dog raced off to chase a rabbit.

Limping markedly, Buck followed the others back to the bunkhouse. Nathan and JD flanked him in case his leg gave out on him again, and though Buck didn’t acknowledge it, he appreciated their concern. Chris’s anxious sidelong glances told Buck he was worried about him, too. But then, much as Chris hated to admit it, it was his nature to worry about his friends.

They entered the long building, and JD immediately climbed into his bunk. Ezra pressed his palms against his lower back, and stretched his spine, which popped audibly. Josiah rested an arm on an upper bunk, and closed his eyes. Buck hobbled over to a chair and lowered himself into it, stretching out his injured leg with a groan. Vin and Chris sank on to chairs beside the long wooden table. Nathan dug his medical supplies out of his saddlebag and knelt down beside Buck’s leg to check the healing wound.

Vin glanced over at Chris and motioned to the bandanna wrapped around his hand. "What happened to you?"

Chris shrugged. "Just a cut."

Vin accepted his reply with a weary nod. He drew back his shoulders, grimaced, then smiled wryly. "All that town livin’s made me soft."

Chris chuckled. "You and me both, pard."

"I hurt in places I didn’t even know I had," JD said plaintively from his prone position.

"Welcome to the wild west, kid," Buck remarked as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Nathan finished his exam. "It ain’t re-opened, so I figure it’s just gonna be sore for a time."

"I coulda told you that," Buck said.

A knock on the door interrupted them, and it opened to reveal old man Barkley bearing a huge kettle that immediately filled the bunkhouse with mouthwatering smells. Mrs. Barkley carried a plate stacked high with bread, and a jar of apple butter.

JD jumped down from the upper bunk, and Chris noticed he swayed for a moment. It would take the boy some time to get used to the grueling work. Hell, Chris had worked cattle before, and it was going to take him a little time to grow accustomed to it again. Though herding cattle wasn’t Chris’s idea of making a living, his conscience approved of it more than hiring out his gun. Of course, he’d probably end up doing both for this job.

Josiah straightened, opening his eyes. Vin stood and moved to help with the heavy kettle. They set the food in the center of the table, and Mrs. Barkley lifted down a stack of dishes from a shelf on the wall.

"I cleaned up some in here while you were all working," Mrs. Barkley said as she arranged the plates. "If I’d have known you were signing on, I would’ve made sure your mattresses were aired and the cobwebs brushed out of here." She sighed heavily. "Seems I just don’t have the gumption I used to."

"Don’t you worry about it, ma’am," Vin reassured. "Why, this is downright elegant compared to a lot of places I stayed at."

Ezra cleared his throat. "I wouldn’t doubt that, Mr. Tanner."

Chris leaned a shoulder against the wall and studied Sam Barkley as his wife placed seven plates on the table and set out the silverware.

"When did your last man quit?" Chris asked the rancher.

"‘Bout a month ago," Barkley replied. "Jasper had been with me for nigh onto fifteen years, but didn’t want to leave his wife a widow. I don’t blame him."

"A man’s got a right to watch out for his family."

"Yeah," Barkley muttered, his bitter gaze fixed on Josiah.

"If Josiah said he shot your son in self-defense, you can believe him," Chris stated in a low voice.

Barkley returned his attention to Chris. "You know him long?"

"Long enough."

The older man’s brows beetled. "I got a feeling you done your share of killin’, too."

"Only when I didn’t have a choice." Chris kept his voice devoid of emotion.

"Fact is, I been watchin’ all of you, and I’d say everyone except maybe JD ain’t strangers to hiring out your guns."

Chris shrugged. "Don’t let JD’s looks fool you – he’s been in his share of scrapes, and he’s still among the living."

Barkley remained silent for a moment as he continued to study JD who was being ribbed by Buck – whatever Buck said had caused the kid’s face to flush.

"He got any kin?" Barkley asked.

Chris didn’t have to ask who he meant. "He don’t talk much about his past," he replied vaguely.

"How’d he hook up with the likes of you and the others?"

"Askin’ a question like that could be dangerous to your health."

Barkley’s lips thinned to a grim line. "He seems like a decent kid. I’d hate to have him turn out like Sanchez."

"He could do a lot worse."

"He could do a lot better."

Chris glanced at him questioningly.

"Me and Millie had three boys – one of’em was born dead, another died of typhoid when he was five, then Jeff. I got no one left to leave this place to."

Chris hid his astonishment behind a bland mask. "You sayin’ what I think you are?"

"I can read a man pretty well, and what I see in that boy I like."

"Have you talked to JD about this?"

Barkley shook his head. "Thought there’d be time enough later on the drive after we got to know each other a little better."

Barkley wouldn’t wait long – the boy had grit and courage, more than Chris had first given him credit for. His gaze slipped over to Buck, and his eyes narrowed. What if JD accepted Barkley’s offer – how would Buck take it? Not very well, Chris thought, knowing that was an understatement.

Still, the life Barkley could give JD beat the hell out of the life he had with him and the other five men. And hadn’t Chris himself tried to keep JD from getting involved with them at that Seminole village? He glanced at Mrs. Barkley who was speaking to JD, a maternal hand on his shoulder.

Though Chris had been ravenous a few minutes ago, his appetite was now gone. He should be happy for JD, but his stomach tightened with the thought of leaving JD here when the rest of them continued on to Tascosa. Provided they all lived through the next month.

Millie Barkley joined her husband. "Let’s go and let these boys eat before they fall asleep on their feet," she said.

Barkley leaned close to Chris. "I’m hopin’ you won’t be mentionin’ our conversation to anyone, ‘specially JD."

"It’s not my place," Chris replied solemnly.

The two men exchanged a look, then the Barkleys left the men alone.

"You comin’ to eat, Chris?" JD called out.

Chris smiled at the boy who was seated by the table, surrounded by the odd assortment of men. "I’d better if I plan on getting anything."

He sat down across from Buck, who studied him closely. "What were you and the old man talkin’ about so serious-like over there?"

Chris removed his hat and hung it on his chair. "Didn’t involve women, horses, or guns, so I doubt you’d be interested."

Ezra passed him a plate filled with a stew that was more meat and vegetables than gravy, and Chris’s stomach growled in response.

"My sentiments exactly," Ezra commented.

Shaking his head in tolerant humor, Chris dug into his meal. He could feel Buck’s uncanny gaze on him, and knew Buck recognized his lie of omission. But he wasn’t about to tell him that the boy he’d damn near adopted might not be with them for much longer.

After an early breakfast of biscuits, gravy, and a few gallons of coffee, JD and his companions were in the saddle and continuing where they’d left off the day before. Today, however, every man took a turn as rastler instead of Josiah and Nathan working the muscle-straining job the whole time.

It was mid-afternoon when JD’s turn came up to wrestle the calves and yearlings to the ground. The sun beat down mercilessly on his shoulders, and sweat stained his back and armpits. Thankfully, he was partnered with Vin who, with his usual patience, taught him a few tricks in bringing down cattle that weighed a helluva lot more than the two of them combined.

Ezra brought in a calf that looked almost full-grown and JD swallowed hard. Vin took the flank, reaching over the calf’s back and grabbing a couple handfuls of skin, then leaned back and flipped the young cow on its side. He caught the top foreleg and held it, while JD took hold of the top hind leg and pulled it backward, stretching it out while he braced the other back leg with his foot. Ezra kept the rope pulled taut to help the two men hold down the bawling calf.

Barkley brought a red-hot branding iron over and JD felt his foot slipping from the calf’s hind leg. He shifted just as Barkley laid the iron on the young animal’s side, and the calf kicked out of JD’s hold. His cloven hoof caught JD in the gut, punching the air from his lungs and dazing him with an explosion of pain.

Vin rolled away from the scrambling calf, and Ezra quickly dragged the wild calf away from him and JD.

Vin scurried over to JD, whose arms were wrapped around his middle and his knees drawn up to his chest. He laid a hand on his shoulder. "JD, you okay?"

JD tried to suck in some air, but his lungs didn’t seem to work. Just as he figured he’d never breathe again, the air tumbled into his lungs, making him gasp, which made his ribs protest. He groaned.

"Ezra, get Nathan," Vin called out.

Barkley knelt down on the other side of JD. "He hurt bad?"

Vin’s brow creased in worry as he shrugged impatiently. "Feel like you got a broken rib, JD?"

"Don’t know," he managed to say. "Never had one."

Nathan, followed by Ezra, Buck, Chris, and Josiah galloped into the branding area. The healer dismounted before his horse came to a stop, and he hurried over to JD as Vin moved over to make room for him.

"Let me look at ya, JD," Nathan said.

"Get outta my way," Buck demanded, nearly shoving Barkley away from JD. Oblivious to the pain in his healing leg, he knelt down beside JD and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You’re gonna be okay, kid. Nathan’ll take right good care of you." He glared at Nathan, as if it was his fault JD’d been hurt. "He is gonna be all right, ain’t he?"

Nathan eased JD’s shirt down over his chest and nodded in relief. "Looks like he was real lucky – just bruised."

"Looks like you don’t have to strain yourself comin’ up with somethin’ nice to say at my funeral yet," JD managed to say with a weak grin.

Something flickered across Buck’s face – something between soul-clenching fear and gut-wrenching anger. "What did I say about your fool stunts, kid." He shook his forefinger at him. "Don’t you go scarin’ me like that again or I’m liable to get good and mad. And you ain’t gonna like it if I do."

Buck pushed himself to his feet, and limped off. He grabbed his gray’s reins from Chris’s outstretched hand and wheeled his horse around to trot back toward the herd.

"What the hell’s his problem?" Barkley demanded, his glare following Buck’s hasty retreat.

"Don’t mind him," JD said, frustration edging his voice. "He blows up like that all the time."

From atop his big black, Chris’s jaw muscle tightened. Buck was gonna smother the boy if he wasn’t careful, and that didn’t bode well for JD sticking with them. JD was like any other kid his age, trying to prove himself and he couldn’t do that if he was ambushed every step of the way. Even if Buck did mean well.

"Why don’t you go take a break, JD," Barkley suggested. "One of the others can help Tanner." He glanced at Ezra. "How ‘bout you, Standish? You ain’t had your turn at rastlin’ yet."

Ezra straightened his shoulders. "A gentleman does not stoop to such common labor."

"But a cow-hand does," Chris retorted with a faint smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

Ezra’s indignant expression brought laughter from his surrounding friends. JD wrapped an arm around his torso and his chuckle turned into a grimace.

"Come on, JD, let’s get you out of the sun," Barkley said, gently taking hold of his arm.

Nathan, on JD’s other side, helped him over to a miserly piece of shade.

Chris watched as Nathan rejoined them, but Barkley stayed a few more moments with JD. He said something to the boy, which brought a proud smile to JD’s face. Chris had a feeling Barkley was congratulating him on a good job in spite of the mishap.

Although Chris didn’t like how things were shaping up, he wouldn’t stop Barkley from currying JD’s favor. JD deserved this chance, and Chris would be damned if he got in the way. He wheeled his horse around and continued working.

By the fourth day, all the calves and yearlings were branded, and the men had begun to gather the thousand head they’d be herding to Fort Davis. The evening before they began the drive, five of the seven men sat in the bunkhouse. Nathan and Vin were out riding night herd, and would be replaced by Ezra and Josiah in a few hours.

Chris, Ezra, Buck, and JD were sitting around the table playing poker. For a change, Ezra wasn’t winning the majority of the pots.

"You must be tired, Ezra," Buck commented as he raked in the latest pile of matchsticks. "I don’t think I ever seen you play this bad before."

Ezra tried to stifle a yawn and failed. "I must admit to an excessive lassitude after such arduous labor."

"Maybe you’d best get some sleep before you gotta go out to ride herd," Chris suggested, not unkindly.

Ezra smiled, a pale shadow of his normal ebullient grin. "I believe I shall implement such a fine suggestion." He stood, and moving like a man twice his age, shambled to his bunk and lay down without removing his boots. His quiet snores told them he was asleep in less than a minute.

"He done a lot better’n I thought he would," Buck commented, keeping his voice low as not to awaken their sleeping companions.

"Ezra’s full of surprises," Chris simply said. He studied Buck, then JD, who seemed to have regained his usual enthusiasm. "How’re you feelin’, JD?"

The boy grinned. "Right as rain. Mrs. Barkley gave me some special liniment to put on the bruise. Took the soreness right out."

"Yeah, those Barkleys should be nominated for sainthood," Buck muttered.

JD’s smile faded. "They’re good people, Buck. You got no call insultin’ them."

"Maybe they’re just a little too good."

Anger darkened JD’s features. "And what do you mean by that?"

Buck held up his hands, palms out. "Now don’t go gettin’ all huffy, JD. It’s just that they seem to have takin’ a shine to you."

Chris rested his elbows on the chair arms and steepled his fingers, observing the exchange from beneath hooded eyelids. He had known it would only be a matter of time before Buck noticed the Barkleys’ interest in JD.

"You’re imaginin’ things, Buck," JD growled, though he didn’t meet Buck’s gaze.

Whatever Buck was about to say was lost as Sam Barkley entered the bunkhouse. He noticed Ezra and Josiah asleep, and the animosity he nursed for Josiah colored his expression for a moment. Turning his attention to the men at the table, the older man smiled at JD.

"Thought I’d come by and let you know what I decided as far as who’s got what positions when we head out tomorrow," Barkley began. "Larabee, you and Tanner’ll take point – I can tell you two aren’t no strangers to driving cattle. Wilmington, you and Jackson will ride flank, and the fancy gentleman and Sanchez will ride drag." He settled his gaze on JD. "You, son, will be the wrangler."

JD frowned. "What’s that?"

"You’ll be in charge of the remuda. The horses got to be moved every day, but you gotta make sure you aren’t far so’s the others can switch off throughout the day. And at night, you’ll be settin’ up their corral and makin’ sure they got enough food and water," Barkley explained.

Chris noticed Barkley didn’t tell JD that was where the least experienced man worked, but he wasn’t about to spoil the party by explaining that little fact. He glanced at Buck and knew he was thinking along the same line, but Buck, too, was keeping quiet. Chris suspected it was because a wrangler’s job was about the least dangerous, and they’d all feel better knowing JD was out of harm’s way. Especially big brother Buck.

But there was something else bothering Chris. "There’s no reason for Ezra and Josiah to ride drag the entire way. We’ll rotate the positions so no one gets stuck eatin’ dust the whole time."

Barkley’s mouth tightened. "I’m the boss and I’ll say who works what position."

Chris shook his head, keeping his rock-steady gaze on the rancher. "We may work for you, but nothin’ says we have to stay. We could just ride out tomorrow and not look back. You need us, Barkley, whether you want to admit it or not."

The older man’s face reddened, and his fingers curled into fists at his sides. "Damn you, Larabee."

"A lot of folks have tried," Chris said mildly.

"Chris is right, Mr. Barkley." JD’s dark eyes darted anxiously between Chris and Barkley. "Now I know I don’t know much about herdin’ cattle, but I do know it ain’t fair for any of them to have to stay in one place the whole time."

"You think I ain’t bein’ fair?" Barkley demanded.

JD lifted his chin and nodded resolutely. "That’s right, sir."

For a long moment, Barkley stared at JD who didn’t relinquish his own gaze. Finally, the tension in Barkley’s features eased. "Maybe you’re right, son. It’s just that I got a hard time dealin’ with the man who killed my own flesh and blood."

"Josiah ain’t no cold-blooded killer," JD stated firmly.

"I admire your loyalty, son, but you don’t know Sanchez like I do."

"Or maybe we know him better," Buck spoke up, his voice deceptively quiet.

Barkley tensed, then forced himself to relent. "He has been doin’ a good job out there," he admitted reluctantly. "Fact is, I could probably like him iffen he hadn’t killed Jeff."

"Your son was a grown man," Chris said quietly. "He made his own choices, and you got to realize he chose his own destiny."

Barkley shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced down, then looked back up at Chris. "Maybe so, but Sanchez worked for Connor, who may kill all of us before this drive is over."

"And Josiah’s gonna be right beside us fightin’ Connor," Buck added. "You’d do well to remember that."

Barkley took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "All right. We’ll switch positions every day. We’ll start out the way I said, then rotate each day after. May as well do the same with the wrangler job – after JD gets used to it, he can exchange and learn the other positions."

JD smiled widely and his hazel eyes glowed. "I can’t believe I’m actually goin’ on a cattle drive! I’ve read about them ever since I was a kid and now I’m goin’ to be part of one."

"This ain’t a normal drive, though, JD. You make sure you keep your eyes open for Connor’s men," Chris warned, trying to tamp down his enthusiasm a bit. If the boy were a ball, he’d be bouncing off the four walls.

"Don’t worry, Chris, I will," he promised solemnly.

"You’d all better get some sleep. We’re headin’ out at dawn," Barkley suggested.

He shuffled out of the bunkhouse, his shoulders bowed under the heavy weight of responsibility. Chris empathized with him, then cursed his lapse. Every man chose his own path and nobody could walk that trail with him. Maybe he had some companions for a time, but they wouldn’t be with him forever. That was the nature of living – a person came into the world alone and he went out the same way.

Melancholy settled in Chris’s chest. The only thing that would prevent his six friends from leaving to follow their own paths someday would be for them to die while they were together. Or maybe it would be himself who would meet his Maker. A year ago he would’ve welcomed death, but his soul, which he thought had withered with Sarah and Adam’s mortal remains, had been re-awakened by the friendship he shared with Vin, Ezra, Buck, JD, Nathan, and Josiah. But it wasn’t only them; there was also Mary Travis and her son Billy back in Four Corners.

Chris lifted his hand to rub his eyes, and grimaced slightly at the shaft of pain from the five-day-old cut. Damn thing was taking longer to heal than a bullet wound.

Buck and JD rose, and moved to their bunks without the usual bantering, which told Chris they, too, were tired. Chris stood and stretched, feeling aches in muscles he hadn’t felt since his involuntary time with the chain gang at Jericho. A shiver chased down his spine and he shoved the thoughts aside – he still had nightmares about his time there, especially the days and nights he’d spent in the hole.

He sat on his lower bunk and removed his boots, then his shirt and trousers. After tonight he wouldn’t have the luxury of sleeping in only his drawers. Ensuring that his holster and gun hung within easy reaching distance, he lay down and fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Josiah tightened the bandanna about the lower half of his face, then tugged his hat brim down to shade his eyes. The sun beat down on the men and beasts as they moved across a land only the devil could take delight in. Aptly, dust devils and Devil’s Canyon and devil wood and devil’s darning needles could all be found in this godforsaken desert.

For Josiah, this drive represented a crucible that he hoped would burn away a portion of the guilt he’d carried for so many years, for so many Jeff Barkleys.

He glanced over at Ezra who rode a couple hundred feet to his right. He had traded his frilly snow-white shirt for a sturdy blue one that looked like something Vin would wear rather than Ezra. Josiah had seen Ezra carefully place his things in the corner of the mess wagon reserved for the men’s belongings and bed packs. He could imagine what his fancy clothes would look like after nearly two weeks of being stowed, and almost felt sorry for him.

Ezra caught his eye, and motioned that he was to move up to the flank position to take the place of Buck, who spelled Chris at point. Every four hours or so, the men took turns going to the remuda to swap out their horse, which set into motion a temporary rotation to cover the absent man.

Josiah sent him a nod that he understood and moved to a more central place at the back of the bawling cattle. A rider approached from the east and Josiah tensed, his hand moving to his pistol’s grip. A few moments later, he recognized the bay mare as Barkley’s mount, and Josiah eased his fingers away from his weapon.

"How’re you doing, Sanchez?" Barkley asked gruffly.

"I’m trying to understand why the Lord saw fit to create such a desolate, soulless place," Josiah replied.

Though Josiah couldn’t see the man’s expression because of his scarf, he could make out a hint of surprise in Barkley’s eyes.

"When did you get religion?" Barkley demanded.

"This may shock you, Mr. Barkley, but I used to be a preacher."

"You’re right, it does. What turned you into a hired gun?"

Josiah shrugged, and fixed his gaze on the shaggy beasts’ backs, undulating like a large dragon across the sandy terrain. "Let’s just say that saving souls involves more than preaching the gospel, especially when the devil is working against you."

Barkley rode silently beside Josiah, his face thoughtful. "You believe in the devil, Sanchez?"

Josiah nodded. "Sometimes I believe in him more than I believe in God."

"Maybe the devil is what made Jeff change so much the last couple years of his life. Up until he turned seventeen, he was a good boy. Never had no problems with him. After that, it seems he was gettin’ in one scrape after another."

"Sounds like another boy I knew. His father was a missionary, but he preached one thing and lived another. He thought the devil had taken hold of his son, too, and maybe he did for a time." Josiah threaded the leather reins through between his gloved fingers. "I’m sorry about your son, Barkley. If it's any consolation, there are days when I look in the mirror and see Jeff’s face."

Barkley’s eyes misted, and his voice was husky. "The same thing happens to me. Maybe I’ve been wrong blaming you all this time, Sanchez. Maybe nobody’s to blame. Maybe Larabee was right – Jeff was a man who made his own decisions, and towards the end, I didn’t approve of most of ’em."

Josiah remained silent, knowing there was nothing he could say to change what had happened five years ago. And no words he could offer a man who realizes that he’d lost his son long before a bullet had taken him.

Chris spotted JD and the remuda about half a mile back from the rear of the herd. JD saw him coming and held up the small herd.

"Which one you want, Chris?" JD called as he neared him.

"Give me the star faced chestnut," Chris replied, dismounting about thirty feet from the milling horses.

He watched as Buck the dog kept the horses in line while JD roped Chris’s new mount and led it to him. The dog had proved an invaluable helper to JD in keeping the animals herded together, as well as getting them moving in the morning.

"How’s it goin’, JD?" Chris asked as he removed his saddle from his tired horse.

JD rubbed his cheek, smearing dust across his features. "It’s kinda boring."

Chris grinned. "Driving cattle isn’t exactly the most exciting job in the world."

JD shifted his backside, and smiled sheepishly. "I s’pose I should’ve known it wouldn’t be like them dime novels. Jock Steele’s dime novel about us wasn’t anywhere near the truth."

"You’re learnin’, JD." Chris tightened the saddle cinch on the chestnut, then rested his forearms on the seat. "Life is what you make it, JD, and if it sees fit to offer you some good, you’d best grab onto it and hold on. It don’t happen more’n a few times in a person’s life."

"I figure the day I jumped off that stagecoach in Four Corners was one of them good things. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t met you and Buck and the others."

Although touched by JD’s declaration, Chris said, "Maybe, but you ever wonder what would’ve happened if you’d stayed on that stagecoach?"

JD nodded somberly. "I’d probably be dead. It’s been the six of you that’s kept me alive; taught me how to survive out here."

Chris swallowed hard. JD was more than likely right. He’d been as green as they come when Chris had first seen him, but he’d proved he had grit. And JD wasn’t scared to admit his mistakes and learn from them.

He glanced at the boy and out of the corner of his eye, he caught the glint of sunlight off metal.

"Get down, JD!" Chris hollered.

JD ducked low over his horse’s back and a bullet passed through the space where his back had just been. He slipped to the ground, and followed Chris behind a rock that offered sparse cover from the hail of bullets that rained upon them.

The remuda scattered in a frenzied gallop, accompanied by whinnies of terror, and the dog took off after them.

JD wrested his revolver out of its holster as he sneezed from the dust the escaping horses kicked up. "How many?"

"Four, maybe five," Chris replied, peering around the rock. A Winchester cracked and a bullet struck stone, throwing splinters against Chris’s neck and face. He ducked back, cursing. "They’ve got more range with those rifles than we do."

"We gotta get closer," JD said. Sweat rolled down his brow and he swiped at it impatiently.

"How?" Chris demanded. "There’s no cover. They’d pick us off like we’re at a turkey shoot."

More bullets kicked up around them, and the two men huddled close behind the sparse cover. Suddenly gunshots sounded from behind them.

"Now they’re behind us, too," JD said, a note of panic in his young voice.

From his hunched position, Chris tried to spot the new arrivals. A grin broke his somber countenance. "Looks like we got some help."

JD twisted around to see Buck, Nathan, and Ezra galloping toward them, firing at the attackers. The distinguishable boom of Vin’s carbine cut through the other gunshots.

"Vin and Josiah must’ve went around," Chris said.

The shots tapered off, and blessed silence filled the empty land.

Chris and JD stood, and Buck dismounted to join them. His expressive face revealed his concern for his two friends, but it was quickly masked by anger that he directed toward the younger man.

"Didn’t I tell you to be careful?" Buck demanded, jabbing a forefinger into JD’s chest. "We’re not even out a day, and you’re already gettin’ in trouble!"

JD’s eyes widened with shock, then indignant anger. "We were ambushed! How was I supposed to see ’em?"

"You were supposed to keep yours eyes open, and be payin’ attention. How many times have I told you you can’t let down your guard!"

"Like you’re perfect?" JD hurled back. "Hell, how many times have you got caught with your pants down?"

"This ain’t got nothin’ to do with that."

Buck stood toe-to-toe with JD, but the smaller man didn’t back down. "The hell it doesn’t! You’re accusin’ me of somethin’ you done more times than I can remember."

Afraid they were going to come to blows, Chris moved to separate the two men. "Hold on now, both of you."

"Stay out of this, Chris. It’s between him and me," JD ordered, surprising the surrounding men with his assertive tone.

"You’re right about that," Buck said. "It started in that Seminole village when you damn near shot my ear off."

"I saved your life!"

"That’s enough," Nathan broke in. "You two just go cool off before one or the other of you says somethin’ you’re gonna regret."

"Buck already did," JD said, then spun around.

Chris watched the young man stalk away, and his brow creased in concern when he saw Barkley join him.

"It wasn’t JD’s fault," Chris stated in a low voice, close to Buck. "I was just damn lucky I saw the sunlight off the rifle."

Buck removed his hat, and raked his hand through his thick dark hair, leaving strands sticking straight out from his head. "I know that, Chris, but it damn near kills me when I see how close he comes to gettin’ his head shot off."

"Don’t you ever worry about me?" Chris asked in a teasing voice, trying to draw Buck out of his too-serious mood.

Buck stared at Chris, his dark eyes troubled. "Always, but you gave up listenin’ to me three years ago."

Chris swallowed hard. "I had reason enough."

"Maybe, but JD don’t. I don’t want that kid gettin’ killed before he becomes a man. He’s got to be able to live some first." Buck climbed back into his saddle and rode back toward the herd.

Chris gazed silently at Barkley and JD, noting the older man’s arm around JD’s shoulder in a fatherly manner. Buck was right – JD had too much of life ahead of him, unlike him and the other five men who’d seen their share already.

"JD ain’t gonna be with us much longer, will he?" Vin asked softly from beside Chris.

"Not if Barkley has any say in the matter." Chris turned to face him. "How many’d you get?"

"One for sure, a second maybe. Both of ’em rode off so neither was dead. Yet." Vin’s cold smile sent a shiver down Chris’s spine – he’d hate to be on the wrong side of the ex-bounty hunter.

"Recognize any of them?"

Vin nodded. "One of ’em for sure was part of that ambush in Medino."

"Connor’s men."

"Yep." Vin thumbed back his hat. "I’m kinda surprised they waited this long to try something. Been expectin’ them to hit earlier."

"Does seem kinda strange, doesn’t it?" Chris asked, frowning. "What were there – four, five men that shot at me and JD – why not more and why just the two of us? If they’re aimin’ to stop the drive, they gotta do better’n that."

Vin searched the surrounding terrain. "They’re plannin’ something big."

"Yep, and they’re gonna spring it when our guard’s down."

"Then we’d best not let our guard down." Vin’s blue eyes twinkled. He glanced around, noting that they were alone. "Looks like you need a ride, pard."

Chris grinned. "Looks like."

Vin mounted his blaze-faced horse, then kicked the left stirrup free and Chris climbed up behind him and settled on the horse’s rump. Taking hold of the saddle seat, Chris hissed at the sharp twinge from the cut on his hand.

"You okay back there?" Vin asked.

"I’ll be better when I get my own horse."

Vin chuckled, then nudged Sire’s flanks and they rode off to join the others.

The sun disappeared behind the western hills, cooling the air with startling swiftness. Where the men had been sweating an hour earlier, now they pulled on their jackets as they gathered around the end of the chuck wagon where a dutch oven had been set up. Buck the dog lay on the ground beside a wagon wheel although he was turned toward the remuda as he kept guard over them.

Mrs. Barkley filled their metal plates with blanket steaks, rice mixed with canned tomatoes, and biscuits made with cinnamon and sugar. The men moved off to hunker down to devour the meal.

"This is real good, Mrs. Barkley," Nathan complimented with a generous smile.

The older woman tucked a strand of graying hair into her bonnet. "Thank you, Nathan. I haven’t been on a drive for years, and I was hoping I hadn’t forgotten how to cook out here."

"You may lay that fear aside, dear lady," Ezra said. "Your culinary expertise is a most welcome diversion from the difficult drudgery."

"Thank you, I think," she said with a smile. "Have you always talked that way or did you have to work at it?"

"I prefer not to work at anything unless I am given no other option."

"So what’re you doing here?" Sam Barkley asked, stepping into the camp’s firelight.

"I am still trying to ascertain that," Ezra replied.

"We’re the only ones who’ll put up with him," Buck interjected.

Ezra smiled and the flickering flames reflected off his gold tooth. "Perhaps you have a point, Mr. Wilmington. Or it could merely be that I am the only civilized gentleman among you so feel a responsibility to instruct you all in the ways of tact and diplomacy."

Buck and Josiah exchanged amused looks, then spoke as one. "Are you calling us rude?"

The men’s laughter sounded comforting in the evening’s empty silence.

"Who goes out when Larabee and Tanner come in?" Barkley asked.

"Me and Josiah," Nathan replied.

Barkley nodded, and found JD among the group. "You’ll have to make sure each man has a fresh horse saddled throughout the night."

JD frowned. "What for?"

"In case there’s a stampede overnight, there isn’t time to saddle the horses. A man’s got to get out there right away to stop ’em."

"You gonna need any help, JD?" Buck asked.

"I think I can handle it," JD replied, his voice sharp with sarcasm.

Buck swallowed a piece of the biscuit, and it settled in his stomach like a piece of lead. He hadn’t meant to get JD all twisted out of shape; all he wanted to do was make sure the boy didn’t let his vigilance down. While Buck was riding herd, he couldn’t very well keep track of JD. It was just damn lucky Chris had been with him when Connor’s men had ambushed them.

JD finished his supper, then without a word moved off toward the roped corral where the remuda was held. Buck narrowed his eyes when he noticed Barkley follow him.

"Be back in a minute, boys," Buck announced with a mischievous grin.

"No need to rush on our account," Josiah said.

Buck pushed himself up, and handed Mrs. Barkley his empty plate. "Thank you, ma’am. It was mighty fine."

After patting the dog’s head, Buck moved off in the opposite direction of JD and Barkley, but once he entered the darkness at the fringe of the camp, he circled around.

Keeping quiet, he eased around the clumps of buffalo grass and prickly cactus. He heard the murmur of voices, and closed in until he could see their dim forms standing beside the makeshift corral.

"You’re doin’ a right good job, JD," Barkley was saying. "I would’ve never guessed this was your first drive."

"Thanks, Mr. Barkley," JD replied. "It might just be my last, too."

"Why’s that?"

Buck could hear the frown in Barkley’s voice.

"It’s a lot different than I imagined," JD admitted.

"It’s hard work. But anything worth havin’ in this life is."

"Maybe," JD said with a dollop of skepticism.

"What do you wanna do with your life, JD?" Barkley asked.

For a long moment, JD was silent as he ran his hand along the paint’s neck. "I ain’t sure. I’d read about the west since I was knee high to a grasshopper, and I wanted to experience everything that was in those books. I met Chris in Four Corners." He smiled, his teeth a pale white in the darkness. "The first time I saw him he was with Vin. They were trying to save Nathan from a lynching. Two men against a dozen – it was just like I’d read about. I wanted to help, but my idea of help was shootin’ a man in the back. Chris taught me right off that wasn’t the way to be doin’ things."

"I figured Larabee to be cold-blooded when it came to killin’ a man."

JD shook his head vehemently. "Folks who don’t know him think the same thing, but Chris ain’t like that at all. He’s about as honorable as a man can be."

"Sounds like you admire him."

"He’s a man to look up to."

"What about the others, Wilmington, Standish, and Sanchez?" Barkley asked.

"Ezra’s a gambler by trade, but he’s a square player. At least, he is now. Josiah can preach from the Good Book better’n a lot of real preachers I know, and you can tell he’s lived through a lot of them bad things the bible talks about, so he knows what temptation and sinnin’ is all about." He took a deep breath. "And Buck, well, Buck is Buck. I ain’t figured him out yet. He treats me like I’m still in knee pants, but there’s other times I think he’s proud of me. He never says it, but I can see it in his face."

Buck clenched his teeth – it was easier to rail at JD than to give him praise. That way, when JD left, he’d never know how much hurt it’d give Buck. It was a sight easier to hide pain behind a curtain of anger.

"You ever think about havin’ a place of your own?" Barkley asked JD, bringing Buck’s attention back to their conversation.

"What man doesn’t," JD replied. "But that’s a long way off."

"What if I was to offer you my ranch?"

Buck’s shoulders tensed.

"I’d have to pass. I don’t have more’n five dollars to my name," JD replied, apologetic regret in his voice.

"I’m not talkin’ about sellin’ it to you. I’m talkin’ about leavin’ it to you, like a man leaves a place to his son," Barkley explained.

"We ain’t related."

"Maybe not by blood, but I feel like I know you like a son, JD," Barkley said. "You’re a good worker and eager to learn. You couldn’t lie if your life depended on it, and you keep your word. A man couldn’t ask for a better person to leave his life’s work to."

JD turned to gaze into the darkness, and Buck instinctively ducked low.

"What about the others? They’re my friends," JD said plainly.

"They’re friends who’re gonna lead you to your death."

"That’s crazy," JD fired back.

"Is it? Each of those men make a living off their guns, even Standish. They can’t help it – it’s just their path in life. But you don’t have to follow them down that trail. I’m offerin’ you a home, a place to build a life instead of destroying it."

Buck’s gut muscles tightened, and his fingers curled into his palms. His first reaction was to step out of his hiding place and punch Barkley. He had no right tryin’ to take JD away from them.

Then he realized what Barkley was actually offering JD – a safe haven where he wouldn’t be in the line of fire of the enemies he and the others had made through the years. Buck wouldn’t have to worry about JD getting killed by someone like Stuart James or Cletus Fowler. Or pinning on a badge again and making himself a target for any liquored-up cowboy.

The more Buck thought about it, the more he recognized the value of the gift Barkley was offering JD.

"I don’t know, Mr. Barkley," JD said, his voice uncertain. "I’m honored that you think that highly of me, but those six men are my friends. I just don’t know if I can leave them behind."

"Then offer them jobs at the ranch. God knows we can use the cowhands."

JD smiled weakly. "They aren’t cowhands. It was me and Josiah who talked them into stayin’ and helpin’ you."

Barkley clapped JD on the back. "You think about it, son, and let me know when you make your decision."

"Yes, sir."

Barkley turned away and walked back to camp, passing within five feet of Buck’s hidden position. Buck remained where he was, watching JD who was staring up at the stars as if they held the answer.

Buck rubbed his brow, and swallowed hard. JD had a secure future with Barkley; with him and the other men, JD’s future was uncertain at best. He considered telling JD to his face that he’d be a fool to pass up the offer, but decided the kid would just dig in his heels deeper. It seemed him and JD hadn’t exactly been on the best of terms lately, and Buck took a large portion of the blame.

Maybe if he pushed a little harder, JD would decide to accept Barkley’s offer rather than put up with Buck any longer. It might work. Hell, it had to work. He cared too much for the boy to have him die in a blaze of so-called glory.

Though he knew he made the right decision, Buck couldn’t help but feel a deep abiding sadness at the thought of losing JD. But it was better to lose him this way – at least he could visit him now and again at the ranch – than lose him to death.

With heavy footsteps, Buck made his way back to the camp.

They’d been on the trail four days when the first fisticuffs erupted between the men, and Chris wasn’t surprised it was Buck and JD who traded blows. The tension between the two men had been rising steadily the last couple days.

Mrs. Barkley had served supper, and five of the seven men sat around the fire, silently eating. Josiah and Nathan were out watching the herd. Chris was hunkered down between Vin and Ezra who sat cross-legged on the ground. Although the air was cool and the men wore jackets, Chris still felt warm and hadn’t donned his own coat.

Sam Barkley entered their midst, and accepted a plate from his wife, then leaned against the wagon to eat. "Who’s on drag tomorrow?" Barkley asked.

"Me and Nathan," Buck replied in a monotone.

"Then you two decide who’s gonna be wrangler tomorrow – I’m goin’ to have JD move over to drag."

Chris smiled to himself, knowing Buck would jump at the chance to get out of eating dust. And it was time JD got to do a little herding.

"He ain’t takin’ my place," Buck stated flatly.

Chris’s eyes widened, and he noticed Ezra and Vin’s startled reactions, too.

"Then Jackson can be wrangler," Barkley said.

"Not unless you’re gonna get someone else to ride drag with the kid," Buck said.

JD’s mouth gaped. "I aim to pull my weight."

"All you been doin’ is herdin’ a few ponies. You got no idea what it’s like to do real work."

Pain flickered across JD’s face, then he scrambled to his feet. His body vibrated with fury. "I’ve had it, Buck! You been treatin’ me like a two-year-old ever since this drive started."

"Maybe that’s ’cause you act like one," Buck taunted, rising to tower over the smaller man. "Someday you might become a man, but I ain’t gonna hold my breath waitin’."

Chris’s brow furrowed. Something was wrong here. Buck’s usual rantings were a cover for his concern, but he didn’t hear anything other than meanness in Buck’s tone this time. He stood, determined to put an end to their short-fused tempers.

"Look who’s talkin’ about bein’ a man – you act more like a randy boy than a man," JD charged angrily.

"It’s better’n you who don’t even know a beautiful woman when you see one. Hell, maybe I’ll head back to Four Corners and see how Casey’s bloomed out myself."

JD swung his fist with blind rage, and caught Buck on the chin. The bigger man staggered back, and wouldn’t have fallen except his weak leg gave out on him. JD closed in, and struck him again.

Chris noticed Buck didn’t even try to defend himself, and grabbed JD from behind. "That’s enough."

JD’s muscles untensed and Chris released him.

"Don’t you even think about sniffin’ around Casey, or so help me, Buck, I’ll kill you." JD spun around and disappeared into the darkness. It didn’t surprise Chris when Barkley followed him.

Vin and Ezra joined Chris who stood over Buck.

"That, Mr. Wilmington, was the most asinine and callous remark I have ever heard you utter," Ezra stated in disgust. "After such despicable display, I will be astounded if JD ever speaks to you again." He turned and retired to his bedroll about twenty feet away.

Chris and Vin squatted down on either side of Buck.

"JD gone?" Buck asked in a hoarse whisper.

Chris nodded. "So you gonna tell us what that little show was all about."

"How’d you know?" Buck demanded.

"Even though you have a reputation with the ladies, I know you well enough to know you’d never do anything with Casey," Chris replied. "Not knowin’ how JD feels about her."

"Help me up, will ya," Buck growled.

Vin and Chris each took hold of an arm, and helped Buck stand. They didn’t let go until he quit swaying.

"Press this against your face, Mr. Wilmington," Mrs. Barkley said, extending a damp cloth to Buck.

"Thank you, ma’am." He did as she said, and hissed slightly. "JD’s gettin’ a wicked right hook."

"Serves you right," Mrs. Barkley stated, crossing her arms beneath her bosom. "JD’s a fine boy – you had no call riling him like that."

"Yes, ma’am," Buck said with a weak smile.

She narrowed her eyes, then spun around and marched away.

"Let him make up his own mind, Buck," Chris said softly.

"I aim to, but I thought giving him a push in the right direction might help," Buck said.

Vin shook his head. "It ain’t his decision if you’re shoving him one way. Besides, who’s to say what’s right for him."

Buck took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, anguish filled their dark depths. "Sometimes in my mind, I see JD gunned down in some godforsaken one-horse town, and all I know is that I could never live with myself if I didn’t do everything I could to stop something like that from happening."

"The same thing could happen to any of us," Chris said.

"Yeah, but we’re expectin’ it. JD ain’t."

Chris glanced at Vin, who didn’t appear convinced, then back at Buck. "Maybe you should lay off of him, Buck. Right now he’s going to make his choice in anger, and like Vin said, that ain’t fair to him."

"Life ain’t fair," Buck said softly. "I’m goin’ to hit the sack."

"You gonna talk to JD?" Vin asked Chris in a low voice after Buck had limped away.

Chris shook his head. "I’m not sure I agree with Buck pushing JD like that, but JD deserves a better life than what we got to give him."

Vin hooked his fingers around his gunbelt. "I still don’t think that’s for us to decide, but I won’t be sayin’ anything to him either."

Chris glanced at Vin, and for a moment, the hunter blurred and Chris blinked. A wave of dizziness made him stagger back, and Vin reached out to steady him with a hand on his arm.

"Hey, you okay, Chris?" Vin asked.

"Just tired is all," he said sheepishly.

"You’d best get some rest then. We got to be out riding in a couple hours."

The two men went to their bedrolls and settled in for a quick nap.

JD coughed and his eyes teared, but he didn’t complain. In the bright sunlight, he squinted over at Nathan who rode drag on the other side of the herd. Buck had grudgingly taken the wrangler position after Barkley had ordered him to do it. But JD had to wonder why Buck wouldn’t have preferred that job instead. Staring at a bunch of cows’ backsides and narrowly missing being pissed on was enough to make JD wish he’d never heard of a cattle drive. The dust clogged every pore in his body, and even with his bandanna around his mouth and nose, he could barely breathe.

Nathan began to move toward him, and JD eased his own horse toward the middle of the back end of the mass of beeves.

"How’re you doin’?" Nathan asked.

JD didn’t even try to lie. "I can’t believe anyone would want to do this for a livin’."

Nathan chuckled. "You and me both." He sobered. "I saw Buck’s shiner this mornin’, and was surprised you didn’t have one just like it."

JD shifted in the saddle, the leather creaking below him. "He was askin’ for it."

"Seems kinda strange that he didn’t even land one punch."

"I must’ve caught him off-guard."

"That musta been it."

JD picked out Ezra and Josiah at the flank positions, and Chris and Vin’s tiny figures at the front of the bawling herd. "Why’d you decide to go to Tascosa?"

Nathan shrugged broad shoulders beneath his dust-dulled shirt. "I owed him my life."

"But you paid that back with all your doctorin’."

"When a man saves your life even when he don’t know ya, he’s deservin’ to be called a friend," Nathan explained. "And friends help each other out."

"Have you ever thought of settlin’ down, like with Rain?"

"Sure, but she knows I got things to take care of first."

"Like helpin’ Vin clear his name?"

Nathan turned to look at JD. "That and other things."

JD took a deep breath, and sweat rolled down his chest. "If someone offered you a place to call home – a place that would be yours forever – would you take it?"

Nathan was quiet for a long moment. "I don’t know, JD. It would depend on what I got left to do, and who I could share that place with." His deep brown eyes settled on JD. "Has Barkley offered you a home?"

"How’d you know?"

"A man would have to be blind not to see him and Miz Barkley favor you, and knowing their son was killed when he was your age…" Nathan shrugged.

"What should I do?" JD asked plaintively.

"What does your heart tell you?"

JD frowned. "I don’t know. I used to think ridin’ with you and the others was all I wanted to do, but Buck’s always treatin’ me like I don’t know nothin’."

"He’s just tryin’ to teach you how to stay alive out here."

"Well, I don’t like the way he’s been doin’ it."

They rode in silence for a few minutes. JD watched a couple of vultures soar high above them, and quickly looked away. No matter what Josiah said, vultures were a helluva lot worse than crows.

"Don’t go makin’ any hasty decisions based on the way Buck’s been actin’ lately," Nathan said quietly. "Think about the time he saved your life by taking that saber for you, and the other times he risked his life for yours. Then make your choice."

Ezra made a circling motion with his arm.

"Ezra’s goin’ in to change horses – you want to try your hand at flanking?" Nathan asked.

JD nodded, and with a wave at Nathan, rode ahead even as he considered the healer’s words.

The following evening as he rode around the herd, Chris felt an edginess in the air. With a new moon, only the stars that capped the desert lit the night. He squinted and found JD, his partner, on the other side of the milling cattle. Usually by midnight, the cows were bedded down, but tonight they were moving about restlessly. Chris wished he had a more experienced rider with him, but couldn’t fault JD for his work. After riding drag yesterday, JD had tackled his first night herding job and Vin had said he’d done well. Today, JD had ridden flank, leaving Ezra to play wrangler.

Chris tried to dismiss his worries, and continued around the cattle, humming some half-remembered tune his ma had sung to him as a child. Though Chris could see his breath wisp in the cool air, he wiped a trickle of sweat from his cheek. If he didn’t know better, he’d say he had a fever. He glanced down at his hand, still wrapped in a bandanna. The two inch long gash the nail had made continued to throb, and it had swollen up a bit. Chris should’ve had Nathan look at it, but it seemed the men were always busy, either with the herd or keeping watch for unwelcome visitors or sleeping.

JD approached, and the two men stopped their horses side by side facing each other.

"The cattle weren’t moving around so much last night," JD commented in a low voice.

Lightening cut a jagged path above the western horizon, and a few of the cows snorted.

"I sure hope that heat lightening don’t come any closer or we’re gonna have a stampede on our hands," Chris said.

JD moved his reins from one hand to the other. "What do we do then?"

"We have to chase’em down, try’n cut their path and bring them around in a circle, keeping them going round and round until they get so tired they can’t run anymore."

"Sounds dangerous."

Chris nodded somberly. "It is. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come down to that."

Riding in opposite directions, Chris and JD continued circling the herd slowly, and met again half an hour later.

"Looks like we might be okay," Chris said. "The lightening stopped."

"Then why ain’t the cattle settled down?"

"Could be anything. With so little food and water in the past few days, they’re more apt to be restless, too."

Suddenly a gunshot shattered the night’s silence, and the cattle surged to their feet. Before Chris could yell a warning, what he hoped wouldn’t happen did.

Buck was out of his bedroll and racing for his horse before he was even conscious of why he was doing so. The thunder of four thousand hooves on the hard-packed earth brought the realization home in a split second. The cattle had stampeded. His second realization came quickly on the heels of the first – JD and Chris had been on night herd.

Cursing, he twisted around to see Vin, Nathan, Ezra, and Josiah riding beside him, and he knew their anxious expressions mirrored his own.

"We got to turn the herd," Vin shouted. "We gotta get the leaders to turn back into the drag. Whoever gets up there first, yell at’em, slap’em with your lasso, shoot close to their heads - just get them turned. Everyone else work on the same side so we aren’t working against each other."

"What about Chris and JD?" Buck demanded.

"They should be the first ones up there so watch for’em," Vin replied.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but we seem to have another more pressing matter to deal with," Ezra spoke up.

The men turned in their saddles to see fifteen riders headed their way, each one toting a revolver or rifle. Bullets kicked up the ground around their horses’ hooves, and the stampeding cattle were forgotten with the more immediate danger. They pulled out their own weapons and fired back at their attackers.

In the exchange, one of the outlaws went down. Buck spotted an outcropping of boulders on a rocky hill, and he pointed toward it. They veered in that direction, dodging bullets and hoping their luck would hold.

A hundred yards from cover, Vin’s horse squealed and went down to its knees. Vin instinctively kicked free of the stirrups and flew over his mount’s head to land in a stunned heap ten feet in front of the dying animal. As he recovered his scrambled senses, he became aware of fourteen guns aimed at him.

Remaining on the ground, Vin glanced at his horse, glad it wasn’t Sire, but angered by the loss of the experienced cattle pony. "Would one of you boys put him down so he don’t have to suffer?" Though he phrased it as a question, the steely anger in his voice was unmistakable.

After a moment, the apparent leader of the group nodded to one of his men, who took care of the horse with a single shot.

"Mind if I get up?" Vin asked.

"Go ahead," the leader, a man about Vin’s age, but with JD’s smaller stature, answered with a sneer.

Vin got to his feet slowly, his body aching from the tumble to the hard ground. His hat had come off in the fall, and hung in front of his chest. He shifted it around so it rested against his back, then he brushed back his tangled shoulder-length hair that had fallen across his face.

"Lose the holster and sawed-off carbine," the same man – Vin remembered his name was Slade – ordered.

Taking his time, Vin unstrapped the gunbelt as he surreptitiously searched the rocks for his friends. He spied Buck and Josiah peering at him from behind one of the boulders. Sighing mentally, Vin was relieved to see they had gotten to safety.

"Give yourselves up," the leader hollered. "You got no place to go."

"Go to hell, mister," Buck shouted back.

"I don’t think so. If you want your friend to live another day, you’d best throw your guns down."

"Don’t do it," Vin called out. "They’ll kill us all."

The leader cocked the trigger of his revolver, and aimed the barrel at Vin’s temple. "You have to the count of five. One….Two….Three…."

"Don’t shoot. We’re coming out," Buck yelled.

"I want to see those guns first."

Four revolvers and a couple rifles were tossed out, and Vin nearly groaned aloud. Now they didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. Ten of the outlaws rode up to surround Buck, Ezra, Josiah, and Nathan as they walked down out of the rocky outcropping, hands held high above their heads. They were ushered over to join Vin.

"You shouldn’t have given up," Vin said in a low voice.

"We couldn’t let them shoot you down," Nathan replied.

"Now they’ll shoot us all."

Their horses were led over to them and the five men were ordered to mount up. Ezra climbed into his saddle, then offered Vin a hand up. They rode double as the outlaws led them back the way they’d come. Vin’s shoulders tightened as they neared the camp.

Ezra turned slightly and asked softly, "You think they killed the Barkleys?"

"Either that or they got them like they got us," Vin replied in a low voice.

They rode in, and Vin saw Sam Barkley standing with a protective arm wrapped around his wife’s shoulders. Five men had taken over the camp. One of them was dressed in fancy tan trousers tucked into shiny black boots that hugged his calves. In a brown-gloved hand, he held a riding crop. It didn’t take Vin long to figure out he was Connor.

Vin slipped off the horse’s rump, and waited until the others joined him.

"The two who were guarding the herd got away," the leader of the outlaws reported.

Connor’s mouth drew taut. "Take some men and find them."

Slade nodded, picked out five men and the six of them rode out of camp.

"Chris and JD aren’t going to have a chance," Ezra said hoarsely, close to Vin’s ear.

"Don’t write them off yet," Vin said quietly.

One of their captors grabbed Vin’s arms and pulled them behind his back, then another man lashed his wrists together, tying the rope so tight the hemp cut into his skin and drew blood.

Connor looked over the prisoners as they were being tied up. Spotting Josiah, he frowned and walked over to him. "Sanchez, isn’t it?"

"Nice to see some things never change," Josiah said, and Connor’s expression told him he wasn’t sure if he’d been insulted or not.

"Seems to me you’re working for the wrong side."

"Not this time," Josiah stated.

Connor narrowed his eyes and tapped the quirt against his thigh. "Does Barkley know you murdered his son?"

Josiah’s gaze didn’t waver. "I didn’t murder anyone."

"Do you believe him, Barkley?" Connor asked over his shoulder.

The elder rancher gritted his teeth and remained silent.

Connor suddenly smiled and the expression was pure evil. "Bring Barkley over here."

Although his hired killers were puzzled, they didn’t question him, and did as he said. Barkley stared at Connor, hatred written into every line of his stiff body.

"I’m going to give you a chance to avenge your son’s death." Connor handed Barkley his revolver. "Sanchez is all yours."

Josiah’s muscles tensed, but he kept the alarm from his expression. He stared into Barkley’s eyes, which were filled with indecision.

"‘A life for a life, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,’" Josiah quoted softly. "That’s what the Good Book says, but we both know killing me won’t bring Jeff back."

"He had his entire life ahead of him," Barkley said, his voice low and ragged.

"That’s all any man has, but what he does with it is how he shall be judged." Josiah’s voice grew even softer. "Kill me if you truly believe I murdered your son."

Barkley aimed the Colt at Josiah’s heart, and Josiah felt sweat beads form on his forehead, but he refused to look away. He listened for a crow’s call – the portent of his death as it had been ordained that morning twelve years ago.

In his mind’s eye, he could clearly see that crow, hear its harsh cawing, when he’d awakened after a night of too many spirits. Josiah’s faith, already eroded by the hypocrisy and atrocities he’d endured, had toppled completely that morning. The only thing left for Josiah Sanchez to live for was death.

And he’d been prepared for the pale rider the morning he rode away from Four Corners with the men who, strangers then, became the foundation of his returning faith. Men who lived by the gun, yet they didn’t seek violence – violence sought them. Just as it did now.

The Colt’s barrel wavered, and Barkley dropped his gaze, then abruptly turned the revolver on Connor. He shook his head. "I ain’t gonna do your dirty work for you, Connor. It ain’t my place to be judging Sanchez." He cocked the hammer. "Besides, it seems to me if anyone is to blame for Jeff’s death, it’s you."

Relief and surprise filled Josiah. Again, death had spared him, allowing him more time to atone for the crimes he’d committed on earth.

"Your son would be disappointed in you," Connor taunted.

Barkley shook his head. "I don’t think so." He squeezed the trigger and the revolver clicked on an empty cartridge.

"You didn’t think I’d give you a loaded weapon, did you?" Connor asked scornfully. "Take the gun and tie him up," he ordered his men.

After the older rancher has been trussed up, he was shoved over with the Josiah and his fellow captives. His wife was allowed to remain free, though one of the gunmen became her shadow.

"What’re you gonna do with us?" Barkley demanded.

"As soon as my men return with the two that got away, you’ll all become victims of an unfortunate accident," Connor stated, his eyes glittering with malice.

Josiah looked at his companions, and realized his life and the lives of his friends had only been given a temporary reprieve. It seems the crows may yet claim their next sacrifices.

JD didn’t know how long he and Chris had been chasing the cattle – or how many miles they covered. He’d followed Chris’s lead and the two of them had managed to steer the lead cows back in toward the drag. JD’s horse was lathered, as was Chris’s, but the stalwart creatures continued on. The night sky began to lighten as the exhausted herd finally began to slow and the spiral began to tighten. As the sun peeked above the eastern horizon, the cattle came to a stop. Some of the cows lay down on the ground and fell asleep, while others munched at the sparse buffalo grass.

JD’s clothing was drenched in sweat, and rivulets of mud had created streaks down his face. His throat felt like it had been slit, and his tongue was swollen. JD reined in about twenty feet from the edge of the cattle and dismounted. His knees nearly buckled beneath him and he leaned against his trembling horse for a long moment as he closed his gritty eyes.

The approach of hooves forced him to draw away from the horse, and lift his gaze to Chris. The older man’s face appeared ashen, his eyes deep and sunken. Startled concern brought JD upright.

"You okay, Chris?" he asked with a husky voice.

Chris only stared at JD with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Chris?" JD reiterated, taking a step closer.

Chris slumped in the saddle and his eyes closed, then he slipped to the side. JD caught him as he fell from his horse’s back, and he staggered under Chris’s weight. He lowered him to the ground as carefully as he could manage, then knelt beside him. What would Nathan do? Or Josiah or even Buck?

He stared down at Chris’s frightening pallor, and listened to his raspy breathing. Helplessness overwhelmed JD. The last time he’d seen Chris this sick was when they’d found him in Jericho. It had taken him over a week to regain his color, and even longer to replace the weight he’d lost on his already spare frame.

Was he sick or just exhausted? No, Chris could go for long periods of time without sleep, and had done so on more than one occasion. This was something else.

JD spied the bandanna wrapped about Chris’s hand and his brows drew together as he unrolled it. A swollen, angry red gash caught his eye and JD’s breath caught in his throat. The infected hand didn’t appear to be gangrenous yet, but JD knew it was only a matter of time. He knew a man back East who had lost his leg to gangrene; the man became a beggar on the city streets and died an agonizing death less than six months later. He wasn’t going to let that happen to Chris.

JD drew his forearm across his brow, then searched the barren terrain for a sign of the other men. With their horses saddled and ready to go, the others should’ve been right behind them. Unless something had happened.

Something like Connor and his hired guns.

Although he was sweating, JD felt a chill creep across him. If he and Chris were the only ones left alive…. He thought of Buck and the last words they’d exchanged – heated words that had led to a fight. A one-sided fight because Buck hadn’t fought back for some unknown reason. What if Buck was dead?

JD swallowed hard. He couldn’t afford to think that way.
 

Chris groaned, and his eyelids fluttered open, revealing confused green eyes.

JD leaned close and laid a hand on Chris’s shoulder. "Take it easy."

"What happened?" he asked hoarsely.

"You passed out and fell off your horse. I tried to catch you…" JD’s voice trailed off. "I think your hand’s infected bad."

Chris tried to sit up, and JD helped him, then Chris studied the back of his injured hand. "I kinda thought so."

"So why didn’t you have Nathan take care of it?" JD demanded.

Chris managed a weak grin. "Anyone ever tell you you’re sounding more like Buck every day."

"A man could do a lot worse."

"That’s right, he could," Chris said softly. He looked around blearily. "He and the others here yet?"

JD shook his head. "And I’m thinkin’ something happened."

Chris rubbed his forehead, and grimaced. "I thought it was a gunshot that started the stampede, and if it was, that means that Connor made his move." Chris began to push himself up. "Give me a hand, JD."

The younger man helped him to his feet and stayed close, a hand on Chris’s arm to steady him.

"We gotta get back and find out what happened," Chris said.

"You ain’t in any shape for hard riding," JD argued. "I’ll leave you here, and go back myself."

Chris shook his head. "You can’t take all of them on by yourself, JD."

"Maybe not, but I been learnin’ from you and the others. I can take them down one by one."

"You might be able to, but if I’m there, I can help." He awkwardly reached for the saddlehorn and wrapped his fingers around it. "Help me up."

"You’re too sick."

"Damnit, JD! If they’re not dead yet, they’re gonna be soon."

JD’s stomach roiled with the thought of the others dead, and he reluctantly helped Chris up into the saddle. He quickly mounted his own tired animal, and the two men left the now-quiet cattle herd behind.

An hour later, they approached a garden of boulders the size of small houses. The shade beckoned, and JD glanced at Chris. The older man was slumped over his horse’s neck, but he was still conscious. Barely. JD had to get Chris to stop and rest, or he’d lose him, too. He didn’t want to believe the others were gunned down by Connor, but hope dwindled as time pressed on.

"The horses need to rest," JD spoke up, hoping Chris would accept that excuse.

"No, we got to keep goin’," Chris slurred.

"If we keep goin’, we’re gonna lose the horses then we’ll be afoot."

"Don’t matter. Gotta get back in time to save them. They’re alone at the ranch."

JD blinked, and halted his mount, then grabbed Chris’s horse’s bridle to stop him. He studied the older man close, noting his flushed cheeks and fever-hazed eyes. "We’re going to rest for a few minutes," JD stated.

"Can’t. Gotta get back to Sarah and Adam."

JD swallowed hard, and laid a hand on Chris’s shoulder. "Your wife and boy are dead, Chris. And you’re gonna be the same if we don’t stop."

"Don’t care."

JD’s lungs constricted. "What’s Buck gonna say if I let you die? And what about Vin and Ezra and Josiah and Nathan? They’re gonna be madder’n a stepped on rooster at both of us if you up and die."

Lucidity invaded Chris’s green eyes for a moment, and he nodded tiredly. "All right. We’ll rest."

JD dismounted and led the horses to a sheltered area among the rocks, then helped Chris to the ground. He rolled up his jacket and used it as a pillow for Chris’s head.

"There’s whiskey in my saddlebags," Chris said hoarsely. "Pour it over my hand."

JD dug through the bag until he found a flask and returned to Chris’s side. After removing the bandanna around the wound, JD unscrewed the flask’s cover. He glanced down at Chris and caught his glassy gaze on him.

"This is gonna hurt like hell," JD said, his voice trembling.

"I know, kid, but you gotta do it."

JD stared into Chris’s pain-hollowed eyes, his gut twisting. "I—"

"Do it!"

Chris’s sharp command startled JD into action. Keeping his hand as steady as he could, JD poured the liquor across the open, angry gash. Chris hissed and squeezed his eyes shut. His face turned the color of a desert-bleached skeleton, then he slumped limply.

"Chris!" JD cried in alarm.

The shallow rise and fall of Chris’s chest reassured JD, and he heaved a sigh of relief, then put the cap back on the flask. He carefully examined Chris’s injured hand, and frowned. The whiskey cleaned the outside, but the poison still needed to be drawn out of the wound. Thinking back, he recalled the cook’s son at the house where his ma had worked – the boy had gotten blood poisoning and his mother had put tobacco on the cut. It had drawn out the poison and the boy had healed good as new even though he’d been even sicker than Chris was.

JD stood and moved back to Chris’s saddlebags to replace the flask. He dug around and found three of the smelly cheroots Chris smoked. Wrinkling his nose, JD removed the scarf he’d worn since riding herd, and unrolled the little cigars, crumbling the tobacco on to the cloth. He added a little water to create a poultice then wrapped the scarf around Chris’s injured hand, the tobacco against the open cut.

Satisfied he’d done all he could for him, JD set to work unsaddling the horses and rubbing them down. When he was finished, his own body ached and exhaustion clouded his mind. He sat down across from Chris and rested his back against a rock. Crossing his arms, he closed his eyes.

Although his body craved rest, JD couldn’t sleep. Instead, he thought of their five companions and wondered what fate had befallen them. Each one of the men had touched JD’s life profoundly in the last eight months: quiet, steadfast Vin; gentle, thoughtful Nathan; generous, selfless Josiah; cunning, educated Ezra; and Buck.

JD’s eyelids fluttered open and he squinted in the bright sunlight. What was Buck to him? Brother? Mentor? Tormentor? He pictured the concern in Buck’s eyes when JD had been shot a few months ago, and how Buck had been the first one he’d seen when he’d regained consciousness. The circles beneath Buck’s eyes had been testament to the concern he hadn’t spoken aloud.

So why was Buck harassing him so much lately? Because he worried about JD? Or was there something else involved? The more JD thought about it, the more confused he became. Since they’re less-than-auspicious meeting at the Seminole village, Buck had taken a special interest in JD’s welfare, moreso than any of the other men. The majority of that could probably be explained by their common childhoods – boys growing up without their fathers. And Buck had taken it upon himself to become JD’s surrogate father. Not that JD minded. Fact was, he admired Buck more than he’d ever admit. JD had been so foolish and inexperienced when he’d gone to the Seminole village – the memory of his enthusiasm in shooting his first man, and his subsequent guilt in Buck taking a saber’s blade for him, made his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

If Buck and the others were dead, the guilt would lay squarely on JD’s shoulders. He’d gotten them involved with Barkley despite Chris and Buck’s warnings to stay out of a situation that didn’t concern them.

He turned slightly to study Chris’s sleep-slackened features. He appeared vulnerable, so different from the first time he’d seen him in that cemetery in Four Corners. JD could picture the scene as if it happened yesterday. Chris could have stepped out of a dime novel, dressed completely in black, from his long duster to the hat pulled low over his clear eyes. And the fact that no bullets touched him or Vin during that gunfight seemed to re-enforce JD’s belief that they were the ‘real west’. And JD wanted to be just like them.

Only JD had learned that Chris and the others were as human as anyone else. They could be hurt, both physically and emotionally. When Buck had told him about Chris’s wife and son with a voice filled with sadness and regrets, JD hadn’t wanted to believe him. He couldn’t imagine Chris as a family man, yet that’s what he’d been until circumstances had stolen that life.

Hooking up with the six men had been the best thing that ever happened to JD. He’d learned that life and death weren’t as clean as the dime novels proclaimed them, and that friends were the only thing a man could count on in this life.

Could he exchange those friendships for a piece of land and a house? If the others were still alive, could he walk away from them knowing they could be killed the next day? Could he say good-bye to Buck not knowing if he’d ever see him again?

JD clenched his teeth as his heart thudded against his ribs. Buck better not have up and died before he could explain to JD why the hell he’d been acting like such an ass since they signed on with Barkley.

JD’s eyes closed once more and exhaustion claimed him in seconds.

A few hours later, JD awakened and he listened intently to what had brought him out of his slumber. The ring of horses’ hooves on the rocks alerted JD to the approach of some riders. He raised himself slightly to look down to the path about fifty feet away and his palms grew moist when he saw six men riding past their hiding place. He glanced at his and Chris’s horses and hoped they would remain silent. Fortunately, they appeared as tired as their owners.

As the riders passed, JD recognized the leader as Slade, the gunhand who’d argued with Barkley in Medino. They were obviously searching for him and Chris. Did that mean they’d already taken care of Buck and the others? JD swallowed hard as his hand inched toward the butt of his revolver. He’d die before he allowed Slade and his fellow outlaws to take him and Chris.

Once the hired guns disappeared out of sight, JD let out his pent-up breath. He doubted they had someone like Vin who might be able to pick out his and Chris’s horse tracks amid the cattle hoofprints.

JD remained vigilant although the hot sun tempted him into oblivious slumber. He glanced at Chris from time to time to make sure he remained sleeping. Hopefully Chris would sleep until the early evening when they could continue on in the cooler air.

A couple hours later, Slade and his men returned, again bypassing their shelter. The men rode tiredly, and only Slade seemed to be alert, but he only gave the boulders JD and Chris hid behind a passing glance.

JD returned to his place across from Chris. He, too, needed some sleep and the danger from Connor’s men seemed to be over for now. For a moment, JD wondered if he should’ve tried to pick off some of the six men himself to cut the odds for later. Mentally shaking his head, he realized he’d have only drawn unwanted attention and be forced into a prolonged gun battle. One that he and Chris had little chance of winning even if Chris weren’t sick.

"You still got that pea gun up your sleeve?" Buck asked close to Ezra’s ear.

Ezra nodded tightly. "However, trussed as we are, I have no chance of engaging it."

"Maybe you’ll get your chance iffen I can get these ropes off," Vin whispered hoarsely. He grimaced, the orange glow of the campfire reflecting off his weathered features.

"And when Chris and JD show up," Buck added.

"They’re dead," Barkley stated in a low-pitched voice. "And if these ropes were any tighter, they’d be cuttin’ into bone."

Buck shook his head in disgust. "You don’t know Chris and JD."

"Connor’s men said they couldn’t find them and they figured they were trampled by the cattle during the stampede," Barkley argued.

Buck’s temper notched upward and he clenched his teeth a moment to regain control. "Like I said, you don’t know Chris and JD like we do. Ain’t no cattle gonna get them. They’re just bidin’ their time until Connor and his men let down their guard."

Barkley grunted. "They bide their time any longer and they ain’t gonna find anything but our bodies."

"And here I thought JD would be better off with you than us! Hell, you’re willin’ to write them off before you got any proof."

"After a thousand cattle trample a body, there ain’t any proof left."

Buck jerked toward Barkley, anger surging through his veins. "Just shut up, Barkley, or ropes or not, I’m gonna kill you myself."

"Take it easy, Buck," Nathan said soothingly. "Ain’t gonna do anyone any good if we start fightin’ among ourselves."

Buck eased back on the ground, but fury still vibrated through him. He wasn’t going to let Barkley convince him that Chris and JD were dead. He’d feel it if they were, and Buck’s gut told him their two friends were out there someplace. His only doubt was why they hadn’t made their move yet.

"How’re the ropes comin’, Vin?" Nathan asked.

Vin shook his head, frustration evident in his furrowed brow. "They’re tighter’n a lady’s corset."

"Now there’s a fine image to ponder," Ezra said with a slight smile. "Wouldn’t you say, Buck?"

In spite of his worries and their impending fate, Buck couldn’t help but grin. "I ain’t never met a corset so tight I couldn’t handle it."

"That doesn’t surprise me," Josiah commented wryly.

Buck’s humor faded once more as he surveyed the camp. Even if Vin got loose, and Ezra got his sleeve gun free, the odds weren’t altogether encouraging. Although Connor had sent half of his men to get Barkley’s herd, that still left more than enough when all the firepower he and his friends had was Ezra’s two-shot derringer.

Of course, that wasn’t counting Chris and JD. Provided they were still alive. And they damn well better be!

JD followed Chris across the dark desert as he’d been doing for the past four hours. When Chris had awakened at dusk, he had felt better. He’d been surprised by the tobacco poultice, but realized it was working. He hadn’t even complained when JD had crumbled three more of his cheroots for a new poultice.

"Hold up!" Chris whispered hoarsely, halting his horse.

JD stopped immediately, wondering what Chris had detected. A moment later, JD heard something, then Buck the dog was dancing about them, startling their horses. The dog, however, didn’t bark but whined as if wanting them to follow him.

"You think he’s tryin’ to take us to them?" JD asked.

Chris nodded. "I’d bet on it. We’ll have to tie him up out here so he doesn’t get in the way."

"Can’t we use him?"

Chris turned in his saddle to look at JD. "How?"

JD was silent for a moment, then he smiled widely. "Buck made an awful good wrangler, didn’t he?"

Chris frowned, wondering what JD had up his sleeve.

"The sun’ll be comin’ up in another hour," Vin said softly. He’d given up on escaping his bonds after deciding the only thing he was doing was soaking the rope with his blood. And now he had very little feeling left in his hands.

"Which means we shall probably become unfortunate victims of some perceived accident," Ezra said.

Barkley turned to Buck. "You still think your friends are gonna show up?"

Buck clenched his teeth and remained silent.

"Talk like that ain’t doin’ any good, Mr. Barkley," Vin stated. He didn’t add that he had begun to doubt if Chris and JD were still alive. It’d been over twenty-four hours since they’d ridden after the stampeding herd. And a suspicion that something was wrong with Chris kept nagging at him. He had thought Chris was only tired when he’d swayed on his feet a few nights ago, but the more Vin chewed on it, the deeper his doubts grew.

Vin looked around at the mostly silent camp. Only a couple hired guns remained awake as they guarded the six men. Mrs. Barkley had lay down beside the wagon and seemed to be dozing restlessly. If Chris and JD were still alive, they should’ve made their move by now.

He glanced at Buck and caught his worried gaze in shadowed eyes. Buck would feel the two men’s deaths keener than any of the others since he’d known Chris the longest, and had formed a deeper attachment to JD. Still, Vin knew Ezra, Josiah, and Nathan would also grieve for them. Just as Vin himself would in the privacy of a secluded mountainside.

Suddenly a dog’s barking broke the silence, and Buck’s namesake came dashing into the camp toward the outlaws’ horses, which were enclosed in a pen erected from a couple strung ropes. The ponies began to whinny and their eyes rolled, revealing the whites. A few reared up, further frightening the others. They surged against the flimsy corral and the rope was pulled free.

The outlaws staggered to their feet blearily, shouting curses at the horses that stampeded through their camp.

"Don’t anybody move!" Chris’’s voice rang across the chaos.

Buck’s heart leapt into his throat. Where was JD? Had the fool kid went and got himself killed?

Connor and his hired guns froze at the steely command.

Chris motioned to the two men guarding the prisoners. "Drop your weapons nice and easy like."

Slowly, the men did as they were ordered. As they did, Slade’s hand inched toward his gun and a bullet into the dirt at his feet startled him into motionless.

Buck looked in the direction the shot came from and JD stepped out of the shadows at the opposite end of the camp. Buck grinned, relief making him giddy. The boy was still among the living.

"’Bout time you two showed up," Buck commented. "You mind untyin’ us?"

Chris’s lips quirked upward at one corner. "Go ahead, JD."

JD nodded, but kept his gun in one hand as he cut through the ropes binding Buck, then handed Buck the knife so he could give his full attention to helping Chris ride herd on the outlaws. As soon as Ezra was free, his sleeve gun slid into his palm to aid Chris and JD cover the captives.

"You may have won this round, but you can’t hold me," Connor stated, his lips twisted into an ugly sneer.

"Don’t bet on it," Barkley replied. "You’re out of your territory here. I’m gonna take you and your men to the nearest town and make sure you stand trial for cattle rustling."

Connor’s face paled, but hatred gleamed in his eyes. "Don’t count on it."

"Oh, I think he can," Josiah said, coming up behind Barkley. "Last I heard, this is Sheriff Pat Garrett’s jurisdiction and he’s not going to let someone like you tell him what to do."

An hour later, Connor and his men had traded places with Buck and the others. They sat trussed on the ground as the Barkleys and the seven men caught up on what had happened since the stampede.

"So you didn’t think for one minute that me and Chris might’ve been killed?" JD asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Hell, no. I knew a bunch of cattle wouldn’t have gotten you two," Buck said with a large dose of bravado. He angled a glare at Barkley. "Course, Barkley here, wrote you two off right away."

JD studied Barkley who shifted uncomfortably, then moved his attention back to Buck. His black eye hadn’t begun to fade yet, and JD felt more than a little guilt.

"So who came up with the idea of using Buck the dog as a diversion?" Vin asked curiously.

Chris smiled. "JD. If it hadn’t been for him, none of us would be alive," he said, gazing at the younger man proudly. He showed them his bandaged hand and described how sick he’d been.

Nathan shook his head, either in disgust or tolerance – JD wasn’t sure which.

"I knew it!" Buck exclaimed. "I taught him everything I know." He grinned mischievously. "Well, maybe there’s a few things I still got to teach him about the ladies."

JD didn’t rise to the bait like he normally did. It felt too good to sit here among his friends who’d all miraculously survived. Ezra, unable to sit still, had a deck of cards in his hand, automatically shuffling and fanning them. Nathan was wrapping Vin’s bloody wrists, and Josiah had that thoughtful look on his face, like he was ruminating on something JD couldn’t even begin to understand.

He looked over at Barkley who was studying him, and JD was reminded of the decision he had yet to make. A ranch or the companionship of his six friends?

Later that day, as Josiah, Nathan, Ezra, and Barkley were escorting the prisoners to the town ten miles away, JD got his nerve up to pull Buck off to the side.

"What is it, JD?" Buck asked, leaning against a boulder and crossing his arms.

JD rubbed his nose, and took a deep breath. "Why didn’t you fight me?"

Buck tilted is head slightly. "The other night?"

JD nodded. "You didn’t even try to hit me."

"I couldn’t."

"Then why’d you pick a fight?" JD demanded.

"I followed you the other night when Barkley talked to you off by the remuda," Buck admitted in a low voice. "I heard what he offered you."

JD rubbed his palms together nervously. "Then you know I didn’t give him an answer."

"That’s why I was pushing you so hard. I figured you’d get mad enough at me that you’d accept Barkley’s offer."

"You want to get rid of me?" JD asked, unable to keep the hurt from his voice.

Buck pushed away from the rock to stand directly in front of the younger man and laid his hands on his shoulders. "No, that wasn’t it. I want you to be safe, JD. I want to know that you won’t be gunned down by some trigger happy cowboy."

JD’s throat clogged and for a moment he couldn’t speak. "You’d rather have me be trampled by a stampede?"

Buck snorted. "You know what I mean, kid. You’ll live a longer life if you’re someplace safe like a ranch and not hanging around with the likes of Chris and me and the others."

Anger sifted through JD. "Don’t you think that’s for me to decide, Buck?" He stepped away from his friend. "Ever since I joined up with you, you been treating me like a kid. Maybe I deserved it in the beginning, but not anymore. I think I’ve proven myself more than a couple times and you never once made any mention of it."

"You have proven yourself," Buck said quietly. "It’s just that them kind of words don’t come easy to a man like me."

JD paced. "I got to make this decision on my own, Buck, without you tryin’ to push me one way or the other."

Sorrow rose in Buck, but he nodded slowly. "I understand. And I respect you for that, JD." He turned and walked away, his footsteps heavy.

A couple hours after the men returned from taking the prisoner to town, the rest of Connor’s men returned driving Barkley’s cattle. Not a single shot was fired, and when the gunhands were faced with being shot, thrown in jail like their former boss and associates, or leaving the territory, there was little choice. The hired guns rode away without looking back.

The drive continued without any further trouble, and a few days later, they arrived at Fort Davis. The men split their thirty percent seven ways, then went to wash down the trail dust in the nearest saloon.

Barkley joined them at their table and bought a round of drinks for all of them. "Any of you interested in hiring on for the long term? I know of a place that could use some good men."

"Sorry, Mr. Barkley, but we got other business to take care of," Chris replied, glancing meaningfully at Vin.

Vin grinned sardonically, and held up his whiskey glass in a salute to Chris then downed the gutwarmer.

Barkley took a deep breath and sighed. "I figured so, but I had to ask. Fact is, I wasn’t sure about you, but you all proved yourselves and I’m grateful to everything you did." He raised his gaze to Josiah. "That includes you, Sanchez. I can never forget that you shot the bullet that killed my son, but it was a fair fight, not cold-blooded murder like I kept trying to tell myself. Jeff is gone because of the choices he made. If it hadn’t been you, it would’ve been someone else sooner or later."

Josiah nodded reverently. "Thank you, Mr. Barkley. Your words mean a lot to me."

He held out his hand and, after a moment, Barkley grasped it firmly.

Chris noted the exchange silently, knowing Josiah had been given a gift Chris might never receive. He swallowed hard, banishing the images of the men he’d killed in self-defense. Although he hoped never to have to do so again, Chris knew the impossibility of his wish. Men like him attracted trouble like a dog attracted fleas.

Barkley turned to JD, and Chris’s gut tightened. JD had been particularly quiet ever since they’d gotten rid of Connor. Even Buck hadn’t been able to draw him out of his uncharacteristic reveries, and Chris was afraid JD was beginning the process of pulling away from all of them. He’d gotten used to JD and his exuberance, and would miss him. Chris could only imagine what Buck’s reaction would be.

"Well, son, have you thought about my proposal?" Barkley asked, his voice husky.

JD nodded slowly. "That’s all I been doin’. To have a ranch and raise cattle and horses has been a dream of mine."

Buck dropped his gaze to the tabletop and Vin tugged at the brim of his hat as if to hide his expression. Chris’s fingers curled into his palms. This was it.

"But I can’t accept," JD finished.

Buck whooped loudly, startling the other saloon patrons, and causing Ezra to glance up from his poker game a table over. Ezra smiled widely and nodded at Chris, then returned to his cards.

"I’m offering you a home," Barkley argued. "A place to call your own."

JD’s cheeks flushed slightly. "I know and I’m grateful, but I can’t. There’s too many things I want to do before I settle down." A grin tugged at his youthful features. "Besides, somebody’s got to look out for Buck."

Buck tried to muster some outraged indignation but failed, and he slapped JD’s back, raising a cloud of dust. "I think you got that backwards there, kid."

"And who rescued who from Connor?" JD demanded, though his dark eyes twinkled.

Buck sobered and said, "You did, JD, and I’m damn proud of you."

JD’s expression slipped. "Thanks, Buck. That means a lot comin’ from you," he replied.

"We’re all proud of you, JD," Josiah added.

"You’ve become a man without us even noticing," Chris said.

JD didn’t speak, but Chris noticed his shoulders became a little straighter.

Barkley stood. "I guess there’s nothing left for me here. The offer still stands, JD, so if you ever change your mind, you’re always welcome."

"Thank you, sir," JD said, shaking Barkley’s hand.

The older man turned to leave, then paused. "By the way, what’s your Christian name?"

JD grinned. "Let’s just say that I prefer JD."

Barkley smiled, then walked out of the saloon.

"C’mon, JD, we’re your friends. You can tell us," Buck said.

"Ain’t nobody that close of friend," JD retorted. "I don’t know about you, but I can’t live with my smell no more. I’m headed to the bath house."

He stood, and Buck, Nathan, and Josiah joined him. As they left, Buck put an arm around JD’s shoulders, and Chris could hear him trying to cajole JD into revealing his secret.

"You think JD’ll tell him?" Vin asked, his blue eyes dancing.

"Only if he wants the rest of the world to know," Chris replied with a smile. He filled his and Vin’s whiskey glasses, then raised his. "To Tascosa and clearing your name."

Vin lifted his shot glass and grinned. "And to every adventure along the way. As long as it ain’t driving cattle."

Then they tossed back their drinks. For today, they’d enjoy the comfortable companionship of friends, the quiet of a dim saloon, and the soothing burn of the whiskey. Tomorrow was soon enough for the next adventure to begin.
 

The End

The Trail to Tascosa #4: Chains of the Past

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