Spoilers: Almost all of the episodes and for Linda B.'s stories, "Red," "Black" and "Vocabulary."

Notes: Inspired by Page 73 of "Cowboys, Indians, And Gunfighters" by Albert Marrin, (MacMillan Publishing, 1993)about practical jokes that cowboys used to play on each other during round ups. The events in Chapter 4 were inspired by the song "Rider on the Rim" by Red Steagall from his "Faith & Values" CD. The conversation in Chapter 10 between Vin and JD was inspired by the poem "Failure" by Red Steagall and R.W. Hampton from Red Steagall's "Dear Mama, I'm a Cowboy" CD.

Chapter One

Vin awake lay in his bedroll listening. It was nearly dawn. The stars were slowly fading as the sun edged its way toward the eastern horizon. His eyes roamed the predawn darkness searching for the sound that had disturbed his sleep. His right hand reached instinctively for the sawed off Winchester by his side. Chris and the others appeared to be asleep. He could make out their shapes on the ground nearby. Josiah's rumbling snore broke the stillness from the opposite side of the banked down campfire. As he turned his head, he could barely make out the silhouette of someone moving around where Buck and JD had bedded down the night before. He silently pushed back the blanket and sat up.

"JD, whatcha doin'?" In the still of early morning his soft whisper startled the younger man and he nearly dropped his saddlebags.

"Vin! Don't do that, you about scared me to death." JD Dunne picked up the strip of leather he had dropped on the ground. He looked over nervously at his friend Buck sleeping next to him, then back up at Vin. Vin could make out the spark of mischief in the young man's eyes even in the dim light " I was gonna play a little trick on Buck. Ya wanna help?"

Vin shook his head, "Naw, kid. Last time I helped ya play a trick on Buck, he shaved my horse bald. Looked like a big ol' black rat for two whole months!"

Sensing that the kid was about to get himself killed, Vin reached down and grabbed Buck's pistol from where it hung off the horn of his saddle. He didn't want Buck to accidentally shoot his foolish young friend. A thing that he knew Buck would regret eventually. He sat back on his bedroll, grinning and watched as JD used the leather strap to tie Buck's spurs together. Movement off to his left meant Chris was awake. He glanced over as the other man pushed up on his elbow to see what was going on. It was a little lighter now and he could just make out Chris's face. They locked eyes for a moment and Chris grinned expectantly. Both men watched with great interest as JD dug around in his saddlebag and pulled out a small jar; then froze when Buck sighed and rolled over onto his back.

For one tense moment, JD sat motionless holding his breath watching and waiting to make sure Buck wasn't going to wake up. When he didn't stir any further, JD picked up a small stick and got up from his knees. Squatting on his heels, he held the jar out at arm's length and dipped the stick into it, then carefully replaced the stopper in the jar and tucked it back into his saddlebag.

The sun slowly edged up over the horizon. The only sound in the morning stillness was Josiah's snoring. Vin and Chris carefully got to their feet and moved back out of range as JD dabbed the stick along Buck's upper lip, liberally smearing the man's dark mustache with a coating of smelly Limburger cheese.

The morning calm instantly erupted with sound and movement as Buck sat straight up on his bedroll gagging and wiping at his nose trying to rid himself of the offensive smell that assaulted his senses. "WHAT THE HELL?!" With watering eyes, he searched for the source of his torment.

JD rocked back onto his feet in such a hurry that he nearly fell over backwards as Buck lunged to his feet cursing. The kid dodged out of reach as the older man grabbed for him.

"SONOFABITCH!" He roared as JD danced lightly out of range. "I oughta whup your ass boy!" Buck tried to take a step and tripped on the leather thong tying his spurs together. He toppled over backwards onto his saddle, grunting in pain as he landed hard, slamming his lower back against the horn.

Josiah woke with a start when Buck started yelling. Grabbing for his pistol, he aimed it at the source of the noise; then lowered it with a grin just as JD dodged out of Buck's reach. Chris and Vin were standing a few feet away roaring with laughter. Vin was holding Buck's gun belt. Thank God, Vin had the forethought to move Buck's weapon out of reach, he thought, because the tall gunman was dangerously close to murdering their young friend.

Buck rolled off his saddle still cursing, "Shit! One of these days, kid you're gonna get yourself shot pullin' stuff like that! He grabbed his knife from his belt and tried to sit up far enough to cut the thong tying his spurs together. "Where's my gun? I oughta shoot you myself!"

Chris wiped his streaming face on his coat sleeve and walked over to where Buck lay on the ground. He was still grinning, "You put on quite a show, old pard!" He took the knife from Buck's hand and sliced through Buck's hobbles. Then offered his hand to his old friend and helped him to his feet. "You all right?"

Buck nodded, "Yeah. I'm gonna get that kid!" He growled softly as he limped slowly away into the brush.


Chapter Two

Josiah had the coffee on by the time Buck limped back to the campsite. Vin, Chris and JD were sitting on a log talking over the day's plans. The others looked up as he approached. His face, shirt front and coat sleeves were damp where he'd tried to wash off the stinky residue of JD's latest prank; but the pungent odor still lingered.

Josiah handed him a cup of hot coffee, a piece of jerky and one of Inez's biscuits. "Thanks Josiah."

Josiah nodded and moved over to the other side of JD. The only available place was next to Chris; but he didn't feel like sitting down. He tucked the jerky into his coat pocket and bit into the biscuit, grimacing at the rancid taste.
He'd gone to the stream to wash, but all he could taste was that stuff JD had smeared on his upper lip. It made everything taste bad, but he wasn't one to waste food so he finished it, but without his usual appetite.

"Now I figure if we split up this mornin' we can cover more ground." Chris looked up from the crude map Vin had drawn in the dust. "Buck, you and JD follow the canyon to the east. Vin, Josiah and I will circle around this way."

The other men watched as Vin traced the lines on his "map" with a dusty finger. "These here all end out the same place. If each of us takes a branch we should be able to box 'em in where they come together. Should be able ta scoop 'em up like fish in a net." Vin added taking another sip of his coffee..

They had been trailing a gang of smalltime cattle rustlers who had been picking off steers from a couple of the small ranches. There must have been two teams working, crisscrossing their tracks to make it more difficult to tell where they were headed.

"Best make sure you keep down wind of 'em Bucklin, they're sure ta smell you comin' if you don't. Might stampede the cattle." Vin teased.

Buck paused as he began to take another sip from his cup to glare at the tracker, "Oh, that's real funny, Tanner."

JD took a sip of his coffee, watching Buck over the rim of his cup. His dark eyes still twinkled with mischief. The kid thought he was safe sitting there between Vin and Josiah. Just wait 'til I get him out in the brush alone. Buck thought bitterly.

"All right! Let's get going. If we can catch them this morning, we should be able to get back to town by tonight." Chris stood up, wiping the dust off his hands.

Buck tossed the remains of his coffee into the bushes and handed the cup back to Josiah. He limped back over to where his saddle lay on the ground. Someone had rolled up his bedroll and tied it to the skirt behind the cantle. He bent and gasped when he felt something pop in his lower back as he started to lift it. Shit. He bit his lips to stifle a groan and straightened slowly. It felt like someone was shoving a hot stove poker through his lower back. The burning pain traveled across his hip and down the outside of his right leg to his ankle. He managed to lift the saddle, but was suddenly afraid that he wouldn't be able to carry it. He looked around to see if he'd been noticed. The other three men were busy stowing their own gear and saddling their horses. It didn't appear that they'd noticed.

Still biting the inside of his cheek, he made his way over to where his gray gelding stood tied to the picket rope. The old horse snorted and lifted his head as Buck approached. "Whoa, there old son." He said gently as he flipped the blanket into place and smoothed it down, then grabbed the saddle in both hands and lifted it into place. By the time he got it up onto the horse's back, his legs were shaking and he was sweating. God! He didn't know if he would be able to bend down to reach under and grab the cinch. He rested for a minute studying the situation.

Chris walked up to him with the picket rope looped around his arm and Buck's gun belt in his hand.

"Reckon you'll be needin' this," he said as he handed over the gun and holster.

"Thanks," he said as Chris also handed him the picket rope and a full canteen which Buck then tied to his saddle. By the time Buck limped back around and gathered up the reins, Chris and the others were mounted and waiting.

Chris watched him from the back of his horse. He had heard Buck's soft groan as he lifted the saddle into place and was watching to see if he was going to be able to bend over. He watched as Buck bent stiffly to reach under the horse's belly for the cinch and saw him wince as he straightened up. By the time he was finished and mounted, he was as gray as his horse.

Buck looked over at Chris then and met the appraising look in his friend's green eyes, challenging him silently to say something, but Chris just nodded. He turned his black gelding and walked him to where the others waited.

The horses were fresh and ready to go. JD's bay danced sideways on slender legs, tossing it's head and snorting, rooting with it's nose trying to get more rein. The kid was keeping a tight hold on him. The horse was young and made for running, not riding the trail and it made Buck more than a little nervous. The horse was fast, but a bit of a hare brain. The kid was a good rider and he stuck to its back like a burr.

They split up the way they'd planned. Vin, Josiah and Chris headed off in one direction, Buck, and JD in the other.


Chapter Three

They rode along in silence for a while. JD kept looking over at Buck. The older man seemed to look everywhere but at him and he was beginning to feel that maybe the joke hadn't been such a good idea after all. Buck at his loudest was hard to take sometimes, but Buck at his quietest was down right scary and JD was getting nervous.

"Buck, I..." he began, thinking that maybe he should apologize.

Buck's head snapped around at the sound of his voice. His dark eyes glittered in the morning light, his face hard and tight.

"Save it, kid!" He growled then turned his attention back to the trail ahead.


JD pulled back. The bay sidestepped and began tossing his head, fighting for more rein.

JD felt like his heart had fallen into his stomach. It had always been someone else on the receiving end of that look and that soft voice that strangely, held no gentleness, but promised violence if pushed further.

They rode farther down the draw in total silence. When they reached the place where Vin had said they should split up, Buck pulled his grey to a stop and motioned JD to take the left branch. "Watch yourself kid," was all he said as he turned his horse down the right hand branch at a walk.

Buck had been mad at him before. He remembered the time when he and Vin had tried to dye Buck's grey gelding red. The old horse turned out pumpkin orange. Buck had been furious, but it hadn't lasted long. He'd gotten back at them by shaving Vin's horse bald. Vin had been right. Peso had looked like a big old black rat for two months. Buck's victory had been short lived though.

A smile tempted the corners of his mouth at the memory of Buck hiding from Chris for a whole day after Vin had convinced the smug gunman that it had been Chris's horse he'd shaved instead of Peso. The smile died at once as a heavy weight settled onto his shoulders. He was suddenly very worried that Buck would never forgive him.

He wished he could go back and start the day over again.

The bay tossed its head nervously. It had sensed JD's agitation and wanted nothing better than to be let loose to run. Caught daydreaming, JD wasn't prepared when a jackrabbit darted from under a bush right under his horse's feet.

With a startled squeal the bay reared straight up on its haunches. JD felt his foot slide through the stirrup as the horse lost its balance and fell sideways. Man and horse hit the sandy ground hard. JD fought panic as he hauled back hard on the horse's head trying to keep him from getting up. He couldn't let go to pull his foot from the stirrup.
He knew that if the horse regained its feet he would be drug to death.

"God, help me!" He prayed softly.


Chapter Four

Buck rode on for several minutes, then turned in the saddle and looked back the way JD had gone. He regretted snapping at the kid the way he had; but there was no way to take it back now.

He pressed his hand against his lower back and shifted his weight from side to side testing how much movement the pain would allow and winced when it shot down the outside of his leg. Sudden movements nearly took his breath away.. Sitting the horse wasn't too bad, at least it was down to a sharp ache; but he knew from experience that if he had to get down off the horse, he would not be able to get back on again.

Damn kid! Always playing tricks on people. One of these days he was going to get himself killed.

Buck enjoyed a good prank himself now and again. A big grin spread across his face, as he fondly recalled the night not long ago when he'd gotten Vin drunk. The tracker had just come back from a trip to Eagle Bend with Chris. He had been pissed as hell at Larabee about something and cussing a blue streak. He and Chris had been out all day and Vin had not had anything to eat or much to drink all day. Getting him drunk had been easy. Buck had taken great pleasure in pressing shot after shot on the irate tracker. He chuckled at the memory of the usually even-tempered and sober Vin Tanner drunk as a skunk and turning the air blue. Buck and everyone within earshot had been amazed at the extent of Tanner's vocabulary. Revenge was sweet.

The grin faded from Buck's face as his eyes darted from the bluffs above his head to his horse's ears. He knew the gelding would let him know if something wasn't right. It wouldn't do to be daydreaming though.

He was about half way to the rendezvous point when he heard something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end: a horse's frightened squeal. It echoed faintly off the bluffs above him, but he was sure it had come from the direction JD had gone. He pulled the grey to a stop and listened. He recalled the startled look in JD's wide hazel eyes and the nervous, prancing horse.

"God!" he breathed as he turned the gray around and kicked it into a run.

Buck knew the kid was in trouble. He could feel it in his bones. As he rounded the bend, he could make out a dark shape on the ground ahead. When he realized that JD was trapped under the horse, his heart nearly stopped.

JD's horse had gone down its side in the deep sand of the canyon floor. Its legs thrashed wildly, trying to get to its feet. He had the horse's head pulled back and around so that it couldn't get up. JD raised his head when he heard Buck approaching. His eyes looked nearly black in his pale face.

As Buck drew closer, he could see that JD's foot was jammed down through the stirrup. If the horse got to its feet and took off, the kid would be drug to death. Buck had seen men die that way and it made his blood run cold.

"Buck! My foot's caught and I don't think I can hold him much longer!" JD gasped. He was getting tired and his arms were starting to ache.

"Hang on to him kid!" Buck untied the rope from his saddle and shook out the loop. Buck walked the grey over and dropped the loop over the struggling horse's head. As it settled around the bay's neck, Buck backed his horse. The bay stopped struggling as soon as it felt the noose tighten. It lay in the deep sand with its head twisted up and back, blowing hard through flared nostrils. Buck took a couple of dallies around the horn and kept the rope tight while JD freed his foot.

When JD finally got himself straightened around, he nodded and Buck let the rope go slack. JD was in the saddle when the bay lunged to its feet. Sand clung to the horse's sweaty hide and JD's clothes. The horse stood with its head down, sides heaving. JD got down and walked around it checking its legs for injury, but it seemed all right. He remounted. The horse sucked in a huge breath and sneezed, blowing the sand from its nostrils.

The kid blew out a shaky breath and looked up at Buck. His hazel eyes were wide. He expected Buck to start in on him as he always did when JD did something stupid; but Buck didn't say anything and somehow that was worse.

Buck felt like he was going to explode! He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again. No. He wasn't ready to let the kid off the hook yet. Instead, he concentrated on coiling the rope and tying it back on his saddle. His hands were shaking.

"You all right?" Buck asked when he was sure his voice was steady.

"Yeah, I'm okay." JD nodded as a bright flush began to creep up his neck and spread across his cheeks.

Buck stared at him for a moment, then nodded, "All right. Let's go."


Chapter Five

Ezra was bored. He leaned back in the chair on the saloon porch shuffling a deck of cards left-handed; his right arm fastened across his chest in a sling. The miscreant who had shot him was still sitting in jail awaiting trial. The scoundrel had been caught cheating at cards and had taken exception to having this pointed out. The altercation had taken place at an adjacent table and Ezra had been so intent on his own game that he had been unaware of what was transpiring until it was too late. His assailant had missed his accuser and shot Ezra instead. Fortunately, the cretin's aim was as poor as his card skills.

Ezra flexed his right arm experimentally, wincing at the stiffness in his shoulder. It ached and itched and he was becoming impatient. Nevertheless, he was relieved that he had not been required to accompany Mr. Larabee and the others on their latest excursion. He detested sleeping on the ground and eating trail food and dust. Yes, indeed, there were fates worse than being wounded in pursuit of one's favorite pastime. However, it was quite troublesome playing cards one-handed.

"Ezra!"

Ezra started at the sound of his name and the cards he was shuffling flew up into the air, fluttering to the boardwalk at his feet. He glanced up as Nathan Jackson approached and fixed the young healer with a glare to rival Chris Larabee's.

Nathan stopped directly in front of the gambler, his hands on his hips. "Ain't you supposed to be restin'?" he demanded.

"I am resting, Mr. Jackson." Ezra sighed. "Resting appears to be all that I have been doing for the past five days and to be brutally honest, I have grown quite tired of it." He bent down to retrieve the scattered cards groaning dramatically.

Nathan rolled his eyes and squatted down to help the southerner pick up the cards that had blown under the chair.

"What brings you to the tavern at this time of day, Mr. Jackson? Shouldn't you be off somewhere lancing a boil or brewing up one of your vile concoctions?"

Nathan picked up the remainder of the cards and handed them to Ezra, "I come down to get the prisoner somethin' to eat. It's getting' nigh on ta dinner time."

Ezra scowled, "That ruffian should not be entitled to sustenance other than bread and water during his incarceration."

Nathan returned his scowl, "Now, Ezra. The man's gotta eat." He turned his head and glanced down the length of the main street. "Any sign of 'em?"

Ezra had been concentrating on reorganizing the deck of cards. He looked up and followed Nathan's gaze. "Any sign of whom, Mr. Jackson?"

"You know damn well who!" Nathan was getting impatient. Ezra Standish was the most infuriating man he'd ever met. "Chris and the others. They been gone two days."

"I am quite aware of the length of time our compatriots have been absent in search of that sorry band of villains." Although Ezra preferred to stay in town, he resented staying behind to take care of things while the others were gone. It meant that there was less time for his more lucrative interests.

Nathan turned as something caught his attention. Chris and the others were coming down the street. Larabee and Tanner rode in the front of the group guarding two men on horseback with their hands tied. Behind them came Josiah leading two horses each carried a dead man draped across the saddle. Farther behind, driving several head of cattle were Buck and JD.

Ezra stood up from his chair and followed Nathan across the street to the jail where Chris, Vin and Josiah had stopped. Buck and JD went past with the cattle, driving them toward the corral on the other side. JD leaned down from his horse and opened the gate so Buck could chase them in.

Nathan observed them all closely, one by one, looking for signs of injury. It was his job to see that these men stayed in one piece and he took it very seriously. Vin, Chris and Josiah seemed to be all right. JD looked like he'd been rolling around in the dust. His hat and coat still had grains of sand clinging to them. His eyes lingered on the young man's face for a moment, he seemed a little subdued, but otherwise unhurt. He moved on to Buck who seemed unusually quiet. The tall gunman sat his grey gelding a little apart from the others. His posture seemed a little stiff. His usual lazy slouch was gone and he seemed a little pale. Something wasn't right.


Chapter Six

"Good afternoon, gentlemen! It appears that your quest was successful." Ezra smiled up at Chris as he dismounted, his black coat and hat coated with trail dust.

Chris ignored him and turned to watch Josiah and JD help the outlaws down from their horses. When they had disappeared into the jail, he turned, "Buck, you and Vin take those two over to the undertaker's," he said indicating the bodies of the two dead men.

Buck felt like his back was on fire. The pain ran from his right hip to the back of his head. He'd lost the feeling in his right leg a couple of hours ago and the need to relieve himself had made for one long miserable ride. He had hoped that he could slip off to the livery to dismount. He didn't want the whole town to see him fall on his ass. He looked up when Chris said his name and heard something about the undertaker's. Grasping the pommel in both hands, he slid stiffly to the ground. As soon as his boot touched the ground, white-hot pain shot from his right foot to his brain. His knees threatened to buckle and he nearly went down. Darkness crowded the edges of his vision.. The only thing that kept him on his feet was his tight grip on the saddle.

Chris watched Buck dismount. With a sigh, he stepped off the boardwalk and walked over to stand next to Buck. The man was holding onto the saddle so tightly that his knuckles were white. Chris tipped his head sideways, laid his hand on the grey's dappled rump and looked up into Buck's face. Buck's eyes were squeezed shut. His lips formed a white line under his dark mustache. "I'm fine. Don't need no help." he said, through tightly clenched teeth.

The corner of Chris's mouth quirked up in a tight half smile. "I can see that," he said quietly. He stood waiting, watching his friend's face. Touching a man without his permission could get you killed, even if he -was- your friend. Buck finally opened his eyes and looked at him.

"Bad?" Chris asked, as he reached up to pry Buck's right hand from cantle of his saddle.

"Yeah." he groaned, as Chris wrapped his left arm around Buck's waist.

Chris had seen that look before. He knew that he was going to need some help getting Buck inside before he collapsed. He glanced over his shoulder at Vin. Catching the tracker's eye, he motioned him over with a slight jerk of his head. Wrapping his fingers around Buck's wrist, he hauled Buck's arm across his shoulders.

Vin had been leaning against the porch column watching Chris. He had seen Buck dismount and almost fall, but was waiting to see what Chris would do. When he saw Chris motioning to him, he looked over at Nathan and saw that the healer was watching too. Vin stepped down and approached Buck from the left, "Y'ok, Bucklin?" he asked softly.

"Yeah." Buck gasped, as Vin ducked under his other arm, "Jest felt like huggin' Chris, him bein such a good friend an' all."

"Shut up, Buck." Chris admonished as he tried to take as much of Buck's weight as he could. "Ready, Vin?"

"Where're we goin' with 'im? Vin asked, his nose wrinkling. The odor of Limburger still shrouded the ladies' man. He looked across Buck at Chris and the two men said in unison:

"Bathhouse!"

They had only gone about a dozen steps when Buck groaned, "Chris?"

"Yeah, pard?"

"I gotta piss."

Chris exchanged looks with Vin who bit his lips and turned his head to hide the grin that tugged at his lips. "I'll bet you do!" Chris replied softly, glaring across Buck at Vin, trying not to laugh. Damn tracker. It had not escaped their notice that Buck had remained on his horse all day.

"All right! Let's go this way," he said as he steered them down the alley.

Nathan stood on the boardwalk in front of the jail watching as Chris and then Vin had each grabbed one of Buck's arms and began to help the tall gunman toward the bathhouse. He turned to Josiah,

"What happened to Buck?"

Josiah shrugged and glanced meaningfully at JD. A bright flush crept up the young man's neck and spread across his fair cheeks. JD suddenly looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole.

Nathan sighed and shook his head, then stepped down and followed Chris, Buck and Vin down the street.


Chapter Seven

JD watched as Vin and Chris half-carried, half-dragged Buck down the street.

"I didn't mean for him to get hurt, Josiah," he said softly.

Josiah turned toward JD, a patient look in his deep-set blue eyes. "I know you didn't, son. You wounded his pride. Now, that's a pretty big hurt and that's gonna take some time to heal."

"Do you think he'll ever forgive me, Josiah?" JD turned toward the older man, looking for all the world like a man who had just lost his best friend.

Josiah stood quietly for a moment, trying to gather up the words that would reassure the kid. "Well, JD, Buck's got a short fuse and a long memory, but he's also got a big heart. I just bet if you give him a little time, he'll come around. Now, what say we leave Ezra to take charge of these prisoners and go take care of these tired old horses?"

JD nodded. Josiah could see him turning the words around in his head. "All right," he said quietly as he gathered up the reins of his and Buck's horses and started off toward the livery with Josiah right behind him leading the other three.

Nathan rounded the corner into the alley and came to a stop behind the three men. Buck was trying to button his trousers with Chris and Vin standing to either side of him holding him upright.

"What happened to you?" He demanded.

Buck flinched at the suddenness of Nathan's question; Chris and Vin grabbed at him to keep him from falling over.

"Gawd! Can't a man take care of business without the whole damn town knowing about it?" He groaned dramatically. Chris and Vin were trying to look anywhere but at each other in an effort to keep from laughing.

Nathan stepped closer studying Buck's face, "Jest wanna know what's going on, is all. You all right, Buck?"

"Do I look like I'm all right, Nathan?" Buck gasped as Chris lifted his arm to draw it back across his shoulder. The movement over balanced him and he nearly fell, almost taking Vin with him.

Nathan could see that Buck was in a lot of pain and Vin was having a hard time holding him up. He stepped in closer and grabbed Buck's wrist. "Here, Vin, let me have him." Vin stepped back as Nathan grabbed hold of Buck's arm, letting the taller man take over. As he threaded Buck's arm across his shoulders, Nathan's nose wrinkled in disgust. "What's that smell? You tangle with a skunk or somethin'?"

Buck glared at him, but before he could open his mouth to answer, Vin interrupted him, "That there's what you call 'animal magnetism'." Tanner grinned as Chris too lost his battle to keep a straight face.

Buck turned his head to glare at Chris, "Laugh it up, Larabee. You're turns a comin'," he said softly. He groaned again as his knees began to buckle.

Supporting Buck between them, Chris and Nathan headed straight for the bathhouse. Vin went ahead of them to tell old Floyd, the man who ran the bathhouse, to start filling a tub.

It was slow going. Buck couldn't put any weight on his right leg. Hell, he couldn't even feel his leg. It had gone to sleep on him and it worried him that the feeling wasn't returning.

When Nathan and Chris finally managed to get Buck through the door, Floyd had one of the tubs almost filled. He looked up as the three men came through the door and shifted his cigar to the other side of his mouth. He didn't ask any questions. Being nosy could get a man killed and that Larabee fella made him nervous. He caught the coin Chris tossed him and left, closing the door behind him.

It took all three of them to get Buck undressed. Chris and Vin held him up while Nathan removed his clothing. The healer eased Buck's arms out of the sleeves of his faded red longjohns. As he slid them down his back; he stopped abruptly and stared. "My God, Buck! What'd ya do ta yourself?"


Chapter Eight

Buck lay on his stomach with his forehead resting on his crossed arms. Nathan had pushed two benches together to form a long low table for Buck to lay down on and had thrown a towel over Buck's lower body. The six-foot long benches were too short and his bare feet hung off the end. Nathan sat perched on a low stool examining the deep bruise that purpled the skin of Buck's lower back.
The discolored area was about as big around as a man's closed fist and swollen. As Nathan's sensitive fingers explored the edges of it, Buck flinched and swore,

"Damn it, Nathan! Would ya stop poking at me!"

"I know it's sore, Buck, but I gotta know what I'm dealin' with here." Nathan turned to where the tracker stood leaning against the wall by the door. "Vin, would ya mind lightin' that lantern and bringin' it over here, please? I need more light."

Vin pushed himself off the wall and went to fetch the lantern from its hook. The sun was beginning to set and the light coming in through the curtains over the bathhouse windows was growing dim. He lit it and carried it over to where Nathan sat.

With Vin holding the lantern, Nathan peered closely at the dark, swollen area just above Buck's pelvis and to the right of his spine. In the exact center of it was a puckered, star-shaped scar.

Nathan looked up at Buck who still rested with his head on his arms. His hair had begun to dry, but still clung in damp ringlets around his ears and neck. In the light of the lantern, what he could see of Buck's face was grey.

"How did ya get this scar on you're back here?" He asked. When Buck didn't answer right away, Nathan glanced over at Chris.

The gunslinger sat on a bench against the far wall with his elbows resting on his knees. He and Vin had been trading friendly jabs with Buck for the past hour, effectively distracting their friend while Nathan had been helping him clean up. Black clothes blending into the shadows, the dim light from the windows cast an eerie light on his face. His restless fingers fidgeted with the matchstick he'd been chewing on earlier. Meeting Nathan's gaze steadily, he said nothing.

Nathan turned back to Buck to repeat the question when he heard Buck's muffled reply. "Got shot in the back."

"Tell him the rest." Chris said, softly; but there was firmness in his voice that would allow no argument.

Buck turned his head so that his cheek rested on his arms and locked eyes with Chris, "the bullet's still in there."

Nathan's thick black eyebrows shot toward his hairline, wrinkling the smooth dark skin of his forehead. "How long ago did this happen?"

Buck closed his eyes, brows drawn together as though thinking was becoming difficult. "A few years back."

"Why wasn't it removed?" Nathan asked. He had turned on the stool and his gaze shifted between Chris and Buck. Chris stared at Buck a moment, and then looked back at Nathan, his eyes grim.

"The doc said it was too close to the spine. Said it would be better to leave it there than risk takin' it out."

All four men looked up as the door opened and Josiah and JD walked in covered with dust and horsehair.

Nathan sat back on his stool, ignoring the newcomers. He looked over at Buck, who had closed his eyes and put his forehead back down on his arms. Reaching around to his back, Nathan silently removed one of his throwing knives from its scabbard. Then he carefully leaned forward and pricked the back of Buck's right leg just below the knee. Buck didn't flinch as a tiny bead of blood welled up from the nick.

Nathan looked back at Chris who now sat upright on the bench watching. The healer's gaze traveled around the room from man to man, fear and concern in his dark expressive eyes.

JD had started forward when he saw what Nathan was about to do, but Josiah put a restraining hand on his arm and shook his head.

Nathan turned back to Buck; "Did ya feel that?"

"Feel what?" Buck voice muffled though it was by his arms, sounded tired and hoarse.

"Buck, how long has your leg been numb?" Nathan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, waiting. His eyes never left Buck's profile.

Buck was silent for several long minutes. The only sound in the room was the shifting of boots against the plank floor. He finally turned his head and looked at Nathan. "Coupla hours, maybe."

"A coupla hours!" Nathan sat back, incredulous. He looked up at JD. The kid had been staring at Buck, his eyes wide and dark in his pale face. His dark brows drawn together in concern and Nathan thought...guilt. Suddenly, JD turned on his heel and in three long strides was out the door. The quiet of the room reverberated with the loud bang of the slamming door.

"Yeah. It ain't never been this bad before." Buck's eyes lingered on the door, as it slammed shut.

"This has happened before?" Nathan's own brows drew together in a dark scowl as his temper began to rise. How in hell was he expected to keep these men upright and in one piece if they kept hiding things from him?

"Yeah." Buck's gaze shifted back to Chris. "A time or two."

"When was the last time?"

"About four years ago." His eyes still on Chris. "Was breakin' some horses and got thrown off. Landed on my back."

Nathan drew in a deep breath and let it out again slowly. He reached up and ran a hand through his short-cropped black hair. He looked up at Josiah who returned his gaze, waiting, lending strength just with his steady presence.

"Well, we're gonna hafta do somethin' to get that swelling down fast." He let his eyes wander around the room, trying to decide what to do. "We can't do nothin' here. We're gonna hafta get him up ta my room somehow."

Vin shifted the lantern to his other hand and lowered it onto a nearby table.. Nathan had almost forgotten he was there. "He's too heavy to carry up all them steps, Nate."

"Anybody got a better idea?" Nathan looked at Josiah and Chris.

Chris tossed the shredded matchstick aside. He stood up and reached for the clean clothes he'd brought over for Buck while Nathan had been getting him cleaned up. He looked up at Nathan. "Why not his own room? It's close by and on the ground level and we wouldn't have to worry about moving him."

Nathan considered that for a minute. "Josiah," he said turning to the former preacher, "I need you to go get some wide planks and slide 'em under Buck's mattress."

Josiah nodded and started for the door.

"What's that for?" Chris asked as he handed Buck's clothes to Nathan.

"I need a firm surface to lay him on. Soft mattress can make a back problem worse."

"Hey!" Buck felt anger welling up inside him. They had been talking over and around him for some time now, and he was getting damn tired of it. It was bad enough hurtin'. He didn't need them treating him like he was deaf, blind and helpless too. "I don't appreciate you all talking about me like I ain't here."

The healer looked down at him then, his large brown eyes softening. "I'm sorry 'bout that, Buck." He said gently. "But I don't have a lot of time." He paused, correcting himself; "you don't have a lot of time. If we don't get that swellin' down as soon as possible, the loss of feelin' in your leg could be permanent."