It hit Vin one afternoon when he was watching Chris argue with a ranch hand who’d had way too much to drink, too early in the day. He’d been in Four Corners for two years straight, and that was one year, eleven months and two weeks longer than he’d been anywhere, since his frame-up by Eli Joe. Hell, it was the longest he’d been anywhere since his Ma had died. Not even the church families who’d taken him in had kept him more than six months to a year at a time.

But here he was, lounging against a hitching post about a dozen feet from the man he’d give his life for, watching Chris about to lose his temper for the thousandth time in the past two years. The almost-sheriff looked like he wanted to just crack the drunkard on the back of his head with a rifle-butt to save himself the trouble and foul breath aimed his way. For about the thousandth time in the last two years.

Movement across the street caught his eyes and he saw JD and Casey walking slowly from Mrs. Potter’s store, just like they did every Saturday. Up the street, he could see Josiah, Mary, and Nathan talking by the church, probably about expanding the now-finished structure. Ezra was probably in the saloon and Buck was off on patrol. Just like any other Saturday.

And even though it seemed as real as real could be, Vin knew that it wasn’t. A single visit from a real Federal Marshal, or Texas Ranger, could shatter this peaceful life he’d fallen into. Because he knew that any of the others would spring him from custody and not think twice, thereby making themselves wanted men for helping him. They didn’t know, not really, what it was like to live with a price on their heads. JD probably thought it was heroic, not knowing about the hiding, and scraping by, and keeping as invisible as possible. About never having roots, like they all had now, because a noose was just waiting to wrap around his neck.

I can’t do this anymore, he realized, a cold wind blowing through his soul. I can’t let them fall to the wrong side of the law. It’s only pure, dumb luck no one’s told Judge Travis who I am, yet. Or maybe he knows, but is looking the other way ‘cause no one’s officially said anything. I can’t stay and risk them anymore. It ain’t right.

But what else could he do? Eli Joe was dead, shot down with Chris’ own gun. The murderer had been the only real chance Vin had had to prove himself innocent. Not, like Chris had said, that the bastard had been all that good with the truth. He could’ve brought Eli Joe in and still found himself at the end of a rope because the man refused to tell the truth. He’d been just ornery enough to spite Vin like that, sending them both to the gallows, if he couldn’t go free.

The sound of fist to flesh brought him out of his thoughts. Vin stifled a grin at the sight of the ranch hand blinking up at Chris from the ground, clearly wondering what the hell had just happened. Strolling over to them, Vin offered, “Need a hand, Cowboy?”

Chris flashed him a sour look. “No. I think I can manage.”

“All right then. I got some business to take care of, outside of town. Don’t know when I’ll be back,” Vin announced, coming to a decision.

The drunk apparently forgotten, Chris turned his full attention on Vin and observed, “Sounds serious.”

Vin shrugged and replied, “Just time consumin’ is all.”

Chris stared at him for a long moment, but Vin held himself as innocent as possible, staring back with an unguarded expression. He had to convince Chris that it was nothing, or the idiot would want to go with him.

Fortunately, the ranch hand chose that moment to throw up on Chris’ boot, and the gunslinger snarled at the man, kicking him away, his focus diverted. Hauling the unsteady man to his feet, Chris said to Vin, “You takin’ any of the boys with you?”

“Nah. It ain’t that involved,” Vin bluffed.

“All right. See you when you get back.”

Vin nodded, even though Chris didn’t see it, engaged with herding the drunkard towards the jail. He watched after the other man for several seconds, wistful, then turned resolutely and headed for his wagon. It was time to get packed up and out of town.

Past time, really.

*  *  *  *

There was something about the conversation with Vin that bothered Chris, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Not that he really had time to think about it anyhow, since once he got the drunk into the jail, he was set upon by Ezra and Inez with one of their infamous squabbles that, apparently, only he could solve. And then Buck came back from patrol with news of a raiding party on one of the outlying farms.

It wasn’t until they were all mounted up that he remembered Vin was gone and an uneasy feeling filled him when he realized that the wagon Vin called ‘home’ was gone, too. In all his wandering off, Vin had never taken the wagon with him. He’d just gone off and come back with his horse and pack. There was no real time to think about it, though, because they rode west out of town to where the farm had been attacked.

Reining up at the burned wreck, Chris’ jaw clenched at the all-too familiar sight. Thankfully, the family was all alive, picking through the remains of their home, the kids playing quietly in the yard together. Dismounting, Chris walked over to the father and held out his hand with, “Chris Larabee.”

“Myron Weathers,” the farmer replied, taking it in a firm grip.

Looking around the office, Chris questioned, “Did you know the men?”

The worn-out man shook his head and answered, “They had kerchiefs over the bottom of their faces.”

“What’d they want?” JD piped up.

“They didn’t even say!” Myron exclaimed, frustrated. “Just came in, herded us all out of the house, and burned it down! We just got it built last month!”

Frowning, Chris thought about it a moment, then said, “Buck, I want you and JD to stick around here in case they come back. JD, you light back to town to get the rest of us if there’s even a sign of them coming, you hear me?”

JD nodded seriously and Chris glanced over at Buck, who seemed strangely subdued as he said, “You going huntin’ for them?”

“Yeah. Tracks should still be fresh,” Chris agreed.

“Where’s Vin?” Nathan suddenly asked, stepping forward.

Chris shrugged. “Said he had some business to take care of.”

“Is he comin’ back?”

Josiah’s serious question echoed the doubts Chris was starting to have, but he shook them off and answered, “Should be. Didn’t say, one way or the other.”

There was a brief silence as everyone took in the news, then Ezra pointed out, “Well, those gentlemen won’t track themselves. Shall we go to it?”

Chris nodded shortly and headed back to his horse, climbing up without another word and kicking Pony into action. The others were right behind him as he led the way along the easy-to-see trail the arsonists had left. Even JD could’ve followed them, it was so obvious. There were five horses, two of them pretty big animals, or carrying a lot of weight, from the depth of the hoof indents in the solid ground.

They rode northeast for a good forty minutes before coming to a dead end. Literally. The ground had given way to hard desert and then to rocky soil and then rocks as they entered canyon territory. Grimacing as he pulled up, Chris shaded his eyes against the sun and searched for any sign of which way they might have gone. Looking at the others, he saw they were equally as stumped and sighed.

“Vin sure would come in handy about now,” Nathan said, wiping sweat from his brow.

Chris snapped, “Well he ain’t here!”

The others took his bad mood in stride, as they always did, and Josiah observed easily, “Could be they liked to double-back for some other purpose. Anything valuable on that property that we know of?”

“It’s just farmland,” Ezra replied. “Trust me.”

Snorting at the dry affirmation, Chris had to shake his head. Of course, if the land had anything valuable on it, like gold or coal or anything, Ezra would know. “All right. We’re not getting anything settled out here. We’ll swing by the Weathers farm on the way back to town and make sure they didn’t double-back for some unknown reason.”

They all nodded, and Chris nudged Pony forward at a walk, letting the animals cool down a bit for the long ride back.

*  *  *  *

There were two other burn-outs over the next week in opposite directions and it always ended with the trail going cold in the canyons. When news came to town of the forth burn-out a little over a week later, Chris knew he needed to find the bastards and fast before there was some kind of mutiny in town. The worst part was there was no connection between the families except for them all being new, and living in the middle of nowhere.

He missed Vin’s tracking skills desperately, but missed the man himself, more. Unfortunately, he had no idea of where Vin had been heading, so he couldn’t even go after the tracker. Chris had had Mary wire the towns that they’d been to, and were friendly to Vin, the ones who wouldn’t go squawkin’ about the bounty, but none of them had seen hide nor hair of the young man.

Nightmare visions of Vin dead in a gutter, or shot through, or even worse, hung by the law, ran rampant through Chris’ nights. He barely even slept anymore, preferring to stare at the sky from Vin’s favorite looking place, on top of the saloon, than to be subject to those terrible dreams.

“Chris.”

Turning at Mary’s quiet call of his name, he forced a smile, however brief, and greeted, “Afternoon, Mary.”

She returned the smile, just as brief, clearly worried about what was going on. “Any news?”

“Buck and Josiah aren’t back yet,” Chris replied. “Should be any time now.”

“Still no idea why this is happening?”

For a moment, he considered answering in a less than polite fashion, but it was just a moment. He’d been raised to be polite to women and even whores got his best front. Or back, depending on the position, he thought wryly. Aloud, he answered, “No, not yet. There’s just no connection and they never give a reason.”

“Have you considered…”

“What?” he prompted, when her words trailed off.

A little embarrassed, she finished, “That perhaps it isn’t about the families? Maybe it’s about one of you, or all of you. Maybe someone wants to make you look bad, or force you from your positions here in the town by making you into, well, incompetents.”

Something that honestly hadn’t occurred to him. Surprised, Chris said, “That’s not a bad idea. Sure not any worse than some of the cockamamie theories that JD and Josiah are spinning.”

A faint smile lifted her lips as she replied, “Thank you.”

He chuckled at her dry tone and said, “Well, it still doesn’t give us any idea of where they’ll strike next.”

“When did Vin say he’d be back?”

The abrupt change in conversation threw him for a second, but he answered smoothly enough, “He didn’t.”

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be long,” she comforted.

Does everyone seem to think I can’t do without the man? Chris thought, irritated.

A sarcastic voice inside pointed out, You’re better tempered with him around. Positively beamin,’ matter of fact. A threatening cloud instead of an outright stormin’ one.

Out loud, realizing that Mary was waiting on an answer of some kind, Chris said, “Probably not.”

“I’ll let you get back to your...work.”

The hesitation was barely there, but Chris noticed it. He forced another smile and tipped his hat as Mary walked away. Did no one think that he could keep control of things, especially himself, without Vin? Fortunately, Buck and Josiah rode up just then, delivering him from his thoughts and Mary’s almost concealed pity.

Damn the woman for her insinuations, even if she didn’t mean them badly, he thought on a snarl.

“What did you find?”

Josiah and Buck exchanged a look at his tone, which pissed Chris off further, before Josiah reported, “Same story. No threats, no harm to the family, nothin’ but burning down the house, well, and the barn, too, in this case. All the animals were fine, though, they got the chance to get them out first.”

Feeling a lot like he should just chug down a bottle of whiskey and give himself a headache for a real reason, like a hangover, Chris sighed and leaned against the rail. “Mary had the thought it was about us, not the families.”

“What’d she mean?” Buck asked, frowning.

With a shrug, Chris replied, “Like these fellas are after makin’ us look bad.”

Buck flashed him a tired grin. “If that’s what they’re going for, then they’re doin’ a right good job of it.”

Josiah held up a hand and said, “I think we need to regroup, my friends. Let’s get something to eat and meet up with the others.”

Aiming a shrew look Josiah’s way, Chris questioned, “You got a thought there, Josiah?”

“I might.”

“I could do with something to eat,” Buck announced, meeting Chris’ eyes.

Chris gave them a nod. “Yeah. So could I. Let’s go.”

No one said much of anything on the way to the saloon and there were no greetings from anyone who met them on the street. Chris wondered if somehow Vin’s leaving had been the start of the bad luck. It sure had left a hole in their normally seamless interaction. The six remaining regulators were missing...something...and damned if Chris could figure out what. Even JD was subdued and looking around like he was waiting for Vin to just appear from nowhere.

Inez brought them out a platter only a couple of minutes after they took a seat with Ezra, Nathan, and JD as if expecting them to show up. “No word from Senor Tanner?”

Chris’ jaw tightened, but all he said was, “Nope.”

She didn’t ask more, thank God, just left the food and went back behind the counter to deal with customers.

As everyone dug in, Buck prompted, “Go on, Josiah. Tell us what you’re thinking.”

The other three looked curiously at Josiah, but Chris just focused on his food. He wasn’t hungry, but knew he had to eat and so forced it down. Inez’s cooking didn’t seem to be affecting anyone else in a similar manner, so Chris knew it was just him. He sighed as he washed the offending food down with beer.

There’s only two more homesteads that ain’t been hit yet. I think we should split up and wait them out, however long it takes,” Josiah stated.

“That’s going to split us up,” Buck commented.

Nathan spoke up with, “Three on six ain’t too bad for odds. ‘Sides which, we got the farmers to help themselves out, too. Their older boys. Might make it even.”

“The boys steer clear,” Chris stated, his voice law. No way would he chance someone else losing their son, not when there were grown men to take the chance for them. When no one disputed him, he continued, “Buck, you go with JD and Ezra to the Jenkins farm. Me, Nathan and Josiah’ll head on out to the Shandon’s place. They’re on opposite sides, so we won’t be able to help each other out. I want everyone extra careful, ‘cause these men ain’t typical robbers. They’ve got a plan, and they’ve got strategy, and us not knowin’ what that is makes ‘em even more dangerous. We’ll leave in an hour.”

There were nods all around and Chris stood to go to his room. He was feeling particularly grimy and wanted clean clothes for what could turn into a week-long stay, if the posse didn’t show up right away. Or at all.

On his way there, Mary found him again, pale and holding out a paper to him.

Taking the telegram, Chris’ stomach clenched as he read the words:

 

To: Chris Larrabee STOP

From: Vin Tanner STOP

I been arrested in Red Hawk Landing. STOP Going to hang in four days. STOP Need you to find Josh Garrison, Eli Joe’s old partner. STOP Should be in Eagle Bend now. STOP

 

Looking at Mary, Chris ordered harshly, “Tell the others to go on with the plan. I’ll be back with Vin or, or I won’t be back.”

She opened her mouth, but whether it was a protest or encouragement, Chris didn’t stick around to find out. He ran all the way to the livery, saddled up Pony and kicked him in the direction of Eagle Bend, not once thinking of anything except saving Vin.

*  *  *  *

Jail cells were pretty much the same all over. Small places with a tiny window that had bars. Sometimes there were more than one and you could talk to people in the next cell, sometimes not. They always had ratty cots to sleep on that left you itching, more often than not. Vin had been in a few cells over the course of his life, but this one took the cake. This was the last place he was gonna live, because he was due to hang in two days.

Of all the damned luck for him to run into someone from Tascosa the same day that a Federal Marshall was in town. Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do, he had to give up his gun without a fight to the Marshall, who reminded him of Buck. Of all the moronic things to muck up, he missed Garrison by a matter of minutes!

“Here’s your food.”

Looking over at the Marshall, a big, bear of a man with dark hair but no mustache, named Harris, Vin got up off the floor and took the plate through the slat. “I don’t suppose it’d matter much if I told you I’d been set up.”

Harris shook his head. “You been convicted of murder and there’s a price on your head. Not my place to set you loose, even if you are innocent.”

Vin sighed and muttered, “Yeah, I figured.”

“I was wondering though.”

“What’s that?”

“Why do you sleep on the floor?”

“Because I don’t like feelin’ itchy when I only got two days left to live.”

The big man nodded sympathetically.

“Did I get a response to the telegram?” Vin asked, trying not to hope.

Harris shook his head again and answered, “Nope. Sorry.”

Vin slumped a little, disappointment mixing with fatalism. “Nah, that’s okay. I didn’t figure on one.”

And he didn’t really. Chris would be out hunting down Garrison, not wasting time to stop and answer him back. Sitting morosely on the floor again, Vin poked at the biscuits and unidentifiable stew, his appetite completely gone. If he could see Chris just one more time, even if it wound up being with the noose around his neck, he’d be happy. Course, he’d be happier if it was long before that, but he wasn’t too picky.

There weren’t too many things in his life that he regretted, but he did regret not telling Chris how he really felt about the other man. He was pretty sure that the gunslinger would be agreeable to his words, too. There’d been shared looks that told him so. Casual touches that really weren’t all that casual. He remembered one time in particular when they’d been sitting side-by-side in front of a campfire. He’d leaned against Chris and the other man had put his hand on Vin’s thigh, leaving it there until it had been time to bunk down for the night.

That had just been two weeks ago, just before his damned fool realization that had prompted him to leave the safety of Four Corners.

Sighing heavily, Vin took a bite of the not-bad stew and looked out the tiny window. He could see the blue sky out there and a small bit of a cloud. There was only one more time that he’d stand under the open sky again and, for once, he wasn’t looking forward to it.

*  *  *  *

Chris got to Eagle Bend about half a day after tearing out of Four Corners. Pony was more than happy to settle in a stall by then, flanks heaving with exertion. Chris tossed an extra penny at the stable boy to take good care and brush the horse down on top of watering him and then headed straight for the saloon.

Ignoring the angry looks cast his way even a year after the mess with Nathan’s father, Chris strode into the saloon and ambled up to the counter.

The bartender sighed on seeing him and brought a bottle of whiskey over with, “What do you want?”

“Josh Garrison. Which one is he?” Chris demanded quietly.

Eyebrows raising, the man asked, “What you want with him?”

“You really want to know?”

After considering his words, the bartender finally pointed to a man on the opposite of the saloon and requested, “Try not to bust my place up too much.”

Flashing a wolfish grin, Chris answered, “I’ll try.”

Chris strode toward Garrison, stopping by the other man’s table. He took in the lazy sprawl, along with the well-worn, but cared for, gunbelt, at a glance.

“Yeah?” Garrison drawled, looking up at him.

Keeping his hands close to his own guns, Chris said, “You rode with Eli Joe, a while back.”

“A good long while back. He’s dead now.”

“I know. I killed him.”

Garrison was on his feet in an instant, but Chris was on him a second later, his fist already in motion to impact with painful force to the man’s jaw.

*  *  *  *

The gallows were almost done, Vin could tell from the way the construction had slowed down over the course of the day. He couldn’t, thankfully, see the death machine from his cell. That was a blessing he didn’t overlook.

Harris turned out to be pretty good company, when he was in the jail. The two of them talked about different things, people they knew in common, people they’d both tracked over the years. The Marshall had done a stint as a bounty hunter himself, but only for a year since it just wasn’t worth the aggravation, as he’d put it. Vin had protested that the freedom more than made up for it, but Harris wasn’t convinced.

It was the next day that he was supposed to swing and as the sun set, Vin wondered where Chris was and what he was doing. He had managed to convince Harris not to hang him until the end of the day, trying to give Chris as much time as possible to get Garrison and get to Red Hawk Landing. The big man was genuinely sorry that he couldn’t just let Vin go, and not at all averse to giving his friend extra time to come up with a reason to stop the hanging.

Sighing, Vin stretched out on the blanket on the floor and closed his eyes. He wasn’t going to get any sleep, but he might as well be as comfortable as possible while awake.

*  *  *  *

Chris didn’t bother to look at the man tied face down over the horse that he led into Red Hawk Landing. It was the fourth day since getting the wire and Chris was praying that the hanging hadn’t taken place yet. Praying harder than he ever had to a God in whom he hadn’t believed since the death of his wife and son. He saw the gallows, but there was no crowd and no body hanging from it and he nearly passed out in relief. Filthy and exhausted, pushed almost beyond limits, Chris rode right up to the jail and just sat in front of it, literally unable to move.

A few minutes later, a man with a badge on his jacket, who bore a striking resemblance to Buck walked out and asked, “Somethin’ I can do for you?”

Chris blinked in surprise at the man and suddenly understood why Vin hadn’t used force to get away while he could have. There was no way he’d be able to do that to this man, either. Clearing a throat rusty from lack of use and road dust, Chris said, “Chris Larabee from Four Corners. Work for Judge Travis there as a regulator. You got one of my men locked up and ready to hang.”

The man’s eyebrows rose up and he asked, “Tanner’s a regulator? How’s that possible with a price on his head?”

“Because he’s innocent and this piece of dirt’s going to confirm it,” Chris answered, jerking his head at the unconscious Garrison. “Used to ride with a man by the name of Eli Joe. Eli Joe’s dead now, shot him myself, but he framed Tanner for murder a few years back.”

Interested, the Marshall said, “That so.”

“Yep,” Chris confirmed.

“Then I guess we’d best send for Judge Travis and haul this sack into jail,” the man said.

Chris huffed in dark amusement and replied, “Can’t rightly move just yet. Been riding hard since I got Tanner’s telegram. I’ll join you in a few minutes when I can slide down off o’ here.”

The man chuckled in understanding and moved to take care of Garrison.

*  *  *  *

Vin heard Chris’ voice outside and shot to his feet, pressing against the bars to get as close as possible. He couldn’t make out what was said, but he could hear the exhaustion and harshness underlining his friend’s voice. It sounded like Chris hadn’t stopped moving since he’d gotten the telegram which, knowing the other man as he did, was more than likely.

Harris came in with a body over his broad shoulder. He unceremoniously dumped Garrison onto the cot in next cell then locked the door behind him. Glancing at Vin, he said, “Gonna telegraph Judge Travis now and we’ll straighten this up. Gonna have to keep you here ‘til that happens, though, sorry.”

Nodding his understanding, Vin asked, “Chris okay? He ain’t hurt, is he?”

With a soft laugh, Harris answered, “Naw, he’s fine. Just stuck to his saddle for a bit is all.”

Relieved, Vin’s eyes darted past the other man when Chris entered the jail. He looked terrible; filthy with trail dust, body moving slow and painful, hands moving constantly, as if to get the circulation going again after holding the reins too long. His eyes, though...Chris’ eyes blazed at him with a hunger Vin hadn’t ever seen aimed in his direction before, not in his whole life. A hunger for reassurance and connection, he realized, as well as other, more physical, things.

“I’m just gonna git something to eat,” Harris muttered, leaving hastily.

“Next time you get the urge to clear your damn name, take someone with you. It saves on the backside a bit if I’m already with ya,” Chris growled, standing by the cell door.

Unable to stop the grin on his face as he drank in the sight of his friend with his own brand of hunger, Vin countered, “Don’t think I’m gonna need to do this again, thanks to you.”

They were silent for a bit, then Vin put his hand through the bars, holding it out. Chris took it in one of his own, blistered hands, and held tight.

“Don’t ever do this again, Vin,” Chris ordered, soft and shaken. “Didn’t think I’d get here in time to do anything but watch you swinging in the wind.”

Seeing just how scared Chris had been, Vin lowered his eyes and said, “Sorry, Cowboy. Just couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t put you all at risk, not after all y’all done for me.”

Chris’ hand tightened on his and he said harshly, “That’s why we’re kin, Tanner. We look out for each other. If you’d gotten the itch to clear your name, you should’ve told one of us. You shoulda told me.”

Knowing then how badly he’d hurt the other man by cutting him out like he had, Vin whispered, “Couldn’t, Chris. Couldn’t risk you like that.”

Chris sighed and remained silent for a long moment. Finally, he said, “This Marshall fella’s gonna wire Judge Travis and we’ll get all this squared away. Assumin’ Garrison’s up for telling the truth.”

“Offer his brother some leniency. The boy’s servin’ time and Garrison’s right fond of him,” Vin suggested.

Nodding, Chris said, “I’ll be sure and tell Judge Travis that when he gets here.”

Of course, that brought up another thing that Vin didn’t really want to think on, but had to be said. “He might not believe any of what Garrison has to say. Especially if he thinks the man can be bribed. I might, I might wind up at the end of a rope anyhow.”

Chris’ hand tightened and he snarled quietly, “Never gonna happen, Vin, never. Not if I have to take this town apart with my bare hands to get you free.”

Which was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid in the first place. Vin sighed. “Well, I guess we’ll find out which way the wind sets when he gets here.”

There was a brief hesitation as Chris brought Vin’s hand up and pressed the back of it to his lips. “We got a lot to talk about, once I get you out of here.”

“I expect we do, at that,” Vin agreed, a slow smile surfacing.

*  *  *  *

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

Orin looked steadily at the man standing angrily in front of his makeshift trial bench, studying him as one would an insect. He’d seen enough of this man’s kind to know that the outlaw would rather hang than give him any real information.

Normally, that wouldn’t bother him at all, except that Tanner had been one of his men for over two years now. Orin had personally seen the man save over a dozen lives at the risk of his own. Not to mention keeping law in a lawless town even before the regulator positions had been official. He’d known for a while now that Tanner was a wanted man, but no one had officially brought it to his attention, and so he hadn’t felt the need to do anything about it. He knew what kind of man Tanner was, and that was a good man, a true one.

Unlike the scum standing belligerently in front of him right now.

“I understand you’ve got a brother serving time over in Texas,” Orin said at last. “Not an easy thing, livin’ in a prison in that state. Might be that I could put in a word for him...if you cooperate.”

Garrison squinted suspiciously at him. “You sayin’ if I cop to Tanner’s murder, you’ll get my little brother free?”

“All I want you to do is tell the truth,” Orin stated. “And keep in mind that I’ve been a hangin’ judge for twenty years. I know when someone’s lying to me.”

The chained man looked over to where Chris and Vin sat in the church pews with Harris. Vin was also chained, just like Garrison, wrists and ankles, and stared back impassively. Chris looked about ready to take his gun out and shoot Garrison to save the wear and tear on the rope. Glancing back at the Judge, Garrison began reluctantly, “Eli Joe was a crazy son of a bitch, but he weren’t stupid. Tanner was about the best bounty hunter there was, back then, and he wasn’t goin’ to let Eli out of his sights. Old Eli knew that and made it so Tanner got the wrong man. It wasn’t Tanner’s fault, not at all. Eli done set him up, but good.

“Probably would’ve let him stew like that for good, ‘cept he heard Tanner was ridin’ with them six other lawmen down in Four Corners. Fixed to take him in and kill him to make sure Tanner couldn’t come after him, since he was ridin’ with them regulators. Eli didn’t want no part of it, havin’ the Seven come down on him like a horde o’ locusts. Would’ve probably made it, too, ‘cept he didn’t count on someone breakin’ the law to get Tanner back.”

Orin hummed to himself, remembering the incident that had almost forced him to take action that he really hadn’t wanted to take, against Vin. “So you’re saying that Mr. Tanner is innocent of the charge of murder, is that correct?”

“Yes, Sir,” Garrison confirmed. “Tanner didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

“You’ve been most helpful, Mr. Garrison. Feel fortunate that there are no outstanding warrants for your own arrest. You’re free to go.”

“And my brother?”

“I said I would put in a word for him, and I will.”

Garrison didn’t look too happy about that very small favor, but took it and left, pausing only to get his chains struck off by the Marshall and say to Vin, “Sorry about that Tanner, but I wasn’t goin’ to cross Eli by helpin’ you out.”

Vin shrugged his understanding.

“Mr. Tanner. Would you rise and approach the bench, please?” Orin ordered, more than asked.

Instantly on his feet, Vin shuffled forward to stop before the table the Judge sat behind. “Yes, Sir?”

Orin didn’t hesitate. “Mr. Vincent Tanner, your previous conviction is hereby overturned and you are a free man. Try to stay out of trouble this time, son.”

Smiling broadly, for the first time in Orin’s memory, when he thought about it later, Vin answered, “Yes, Sir! Thank you, Judge!”

Echoing the smile, Orin replied, “You’re very welcome, son. Mr. Larabee, Mr. Tanner, I’ll see you back in Four Corners. Since I’m already out this way, I may as well see my family.”

He watched as Harris undid the chains on Vin, then followed the Marshall outside, leaving the men to their private celebration.

*  *  *  *

Vin threw his arms around Chris the second they were alone and felt strong arms surround him in return. Holding fast, he found that he didn’t ever want to let go. His relief at still being alive, at his name being cleared, at finally, finally being able to live again was so much that Vin honestly wasn’t sure that he had the strength to stand on his own.

“You’re free now, partner, totally free,” Chris said, squeezing him tighter before releasing him altogether. “What’re you going to do now?”

Still grinning fit to break his face, Vin answered, “I don’t know, Cowboy, you got any suggestions?”

Thinkin’ I can come up with a couple.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They stared at each other for a few long seconds before Vin asked softly, “I heard about some good breedin’ stock west of here in Tilson Hole. Got some money saved up, too.”

Chris’ eyes flashed at him as he replied, “Turns out I got a ranch where you can lodge them horses.”

“You call that a ranch?” Vin teased.

Snorting, Chris put a hand on the small of Vin’s back and guided him to the door, not bothering to deny the insult.

*  *  *  *

They lit out from town not an hour after the Judge’s pronouncement, going at a steady pace that didn’t put a strain on the horses, but was fast enough to suit Vin’s need to get away from the town that had almost hanged him. Stopping at a pond where Vin could wash the jail stink clean, they took care of the horses first. Pony got an extra long brushing and even a wash down in the shallows of the pond. Peso stalked into the pond beside him and Vin grinned at the jealous behavior, even as he indulged it.

By the time they were done with the horses, there was the added stink of wet animal to get cleaned off and Vin grimaced at his own smell. Shucking his clothes as fast as he could, Vin said to Chris, “Don’t know about you, but...”

Vin took a running dive into the water, staying down below until his lungs were bursting. He kicked up hard and broke the surface, dragging in a deep breath. Panting, he scrubbed his finger through oily hair and dove below again, swimming back towards the shallows. Looking around, he found that Chris had echoed his actions in stripping and jumping into the water, but he was just floating on top, a sight that Vin drank in.

Sensing the scrutiny, Chris flipped onto his stomach and swam to Vin, which was close enough to shore that they could both stand. A fast sunset of dying colors spread a last array of light on them, giving Chris an almost golden halo. Vin reached out, laying his palm flat over the smooth skin and said, “I been thinkin’ about this a long time.”

“Me, too,” Chris replied. He grinned suddenly, holding up a bar of soap. “At least since I first smelled you in that cell two days ago.”

Laughing outright, Vin said, “Very funny, Cowboy.”

Smirking, Chris ordered, “Turn around, partner.”

Vin did so willingly, eager to have Chris touch him. The water sloshed around him as Chris moved closer, and then slick hands rubbed soap over his back in a firm massage. He sighed, relaxing by degrees, as the caresses continued. Strong fingers lathered up the soap in his hair and Vin groaned in pleasure as his scalp was scratched gently. “God, Chris, that feels great.”

Right at his ear, Chris murmured, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, partner. Dunk under and rinse off.”

Shivering at the promise in the other man’s voice, Vin did as he was told and dipped under the water, washing the soap clear from his hair. Feeling a hundred times better, now that he was clean, Vin stood up again. Before he could wipe his eyes clear, Chris carefully did it for him. Surprised, Vin stayed still until the water was gone, then opened his eyes to find the other man directly in front of him, green eyes humid with love and need.

Vin licked his lips and asked, “Somethin’ you wanted?”

“Oh yeah,” Chris agreed, closing the rest of the distance to take his mouth in a long, deep kiss.

Holding onto Chris’ arms as he was devoured, Vin groaned and opened his mouth to Chris’ questing tongue. He was hard only a minute later, helped quickly along by the hand that wrapped around his dick, stroking him. Gasping into the never ending kiss, Vin slid his arms around Chris’ waist, scratching his nails lightly over the wet skin. Chris shivered in response and attacked Vin’s mouth even harder.

A finger wormed its way inside Vin and he moaned in pleasure, shocked that Chris would agree to do him like that. He’d thought Chris would rub them both off, or let him suck Chris’ cock, but sure hadn’t figured on getting fucked the way he’d really wanted to.

Chris finally broke off the kiss, dragging in a lungful of air to ask, “You okay with this? Can I have you?”

“Shit yeah,” Vin answered emphatically.

Laughing a bit, Chris kissed him again and turned him around to get better access. It took all Vin’s meager control to let himself be prepared. He wanted Chris inside him so bad that it was just about killing him to wait for it. The fingers were a nice preview, though, keeping him on edge and Chris’ mouth sucked and bit at his shoulders as he worked Vin over.

Finally unable to take anymore, Vin demanded, “Now, Chris! Damnit, I need you!”

Nuzzling the back of Vin’s neck, Chris said, “Easy, partner, I just want to make sure you stay in one piece, now that I’ve got you.”

Before Vin could protest that he wasn’t some fainting flower, Chris’ cock pushed at his hole, stealing his words. With a grunt of effort, the other man was inside him, and Vin shuddered in pleasure, clutching Chris’ hips even though it was a stretch to reach behind him. Chris’ hands stayed on Vin’s waist, though, and with his greater leverage, he was able to stop Vin from just shoving down on the shaft inside him.

“Chris...” Vin moaned.

But Chris wouldn’t be hurried. He moved in and out in gentle, short increments, taking Vin at his own pace. It seemed an eternity before the other man was fully seated in him and Vin sagged into his lover’s arms when they twined tight around him. Chris sucked lightly on Vin’s throat and moved up to nibble on his jaw before saying, “Never gonna let you go, Vin, don’t ask me to.”

“Don’t want you to,” Vin answered, gasping when Chris started thrusting for real.

The words, “Not going back to bounty huntin?’” were practically growled into Vin’s ear.

Shuddering at the possessive touch and words, Vin shook his head, breathless as Chris continued to play his body like he’d been doing it for years instead of minutes. “Got all I need, not goinnowhere.

“Good,” Chris hissed in satisfaction.

That was when he started fucking Vin in earnest. Vin moaned, planting his feet as best he could on the slippery, muddy pond floor. If Chris hadn’t still had his arms around Vin like two steel bands, chances were Vin would’ve lost his footing at the hard impact of Chris’ body on his. Leaning back completely on his lover, trusting Chris to keep them up, Vin stretched his head around, opening his mouth.

Chris took the invitation, kissing him hard and deep, breaking it off now and again for them both to steal breaths. Between the hand on his cock, the shaft pumping in and out of him, and the dizzying kisses, Vin was in an ecstasy that he’d never before felt. His heart was fit to burst from all the feelings rushing over him as Chris held him, gasping words of love into his ears with the same rough, raw passion that he brought to everything.

And then he did burst, coming hard enough to see stars. Jerking in Chris’ arms, his head knocked into Chris’ jaw, but he barely felt the blow as his body exploded in release. Chris surged into him, hard and fast, and Vin felt the wet seed fill him as his lover wrapped fully around him to hold him tight.

Like Vin was going anywhere?

Chuckling breathlessly at the thought, Vin hung limp in Chris’ arms for a few minutes, relishing the way he was surrounded by the other man.

Finally, Chris sighed deeply and kissed just behind his ear, asking, “You okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Vin confirmed, yawning. If he’d known that would prompt Chris to pull out, he’d have said that he wasn’t okay. As it was, he grimaced at the dull pain in his backside once it was empty.

Chris’ hand rubbed there gently and he said, “C’mon partner, let’s get something to eat and some sleep. I don’t know about you, but I’m bushed.”

Smirking a bit, Vin observed, “Getting’ old, Larabee?”

Chris snorted, shoving him gently towards their camp. “Go on up to shore and I’ll show you how old I’m getting.”

With a chuckle, heart full and whole for the first time in a long time, Vin did just that. They had all the time in the world now that he was a free man.

Free in more ways than one.