Special thanks go out to my beta, Pammy.


~/~/~( Chapter 1 )~~~

He glanced from the rip in his fine, expensively tailored suit to the outlandish ruffian who dared to cause it. A glint of anger sparked in his cool, blue jeweled eyes as the aforementioned ruffian smirked in amusement.

Brian Littrell, gambler/con man extraordinaire, brought his hand up to the flaw that now resided in his right sleeve. He fingered the tear, a suspicious metallic shimmer flashed from between the singed edges of the rip and he absently ceased his inspection. He glared through the murky saloon air to the wastrel before him, who still had that aggravating sneer on his fat, greasy face.

“What’s the matter, pretty boy?” the man laughed from behind his still smoking gun, carefully moving around the saloon table between them. “Did I hurt your poor coat?”

Brian unconsciously straightened, “You, sir,” Brian spat the word, “have better have one hell of a rationale of pretext to ascertain the justification of this external detriment upon my most equivocal person.”

Brian’s calmly voiced, southern accented words reached the rough man standing before him, but that seemed the extent of acknowledgment as the man’s face went blank.

The man shut his eyes briefly and shook his head, “What the hell did you jus’ say?”

Brian just flashed one of his winsome smiles, discreetly moving his right arm into a more ‘comfortable’ position.

The man sneered, not liking the way the words sounded or the snide smile that followed, “I don’ know what you jus’ said, but my next shot will be more precise. Yer not gettin’ away with yer cheatin’!”

Brian rolled his eyes and sighed, declaring in a bored tone, “I do not cheat.”

The man laughed, “Yeah! Sure!” He then goaded a frozen patron sitting in a chair nearby with his elbow, “Hey, lookie here! A gambler that don’t cheat!” The frightened patron just stared, then nodded his head while slinking out of the chair and moving quickly away.

The man ignored him and gripped the gun he still had trained on the gambler tighter, “Sorry, but I don’t buhleev ya. I don’ cotton to no cheater, so say yer good-byes, pretty boy!”

Brian tensed as the click of the hammer being pulled back echoed through the crowded, but silent, saloon. The man smiled, revealing decaying teeth, and began to squeeze the trigger.

The saloon’s batwing doors were thrown open with such force that they slammed into the walls with a loud crack. Brian ignored it as he saw his adversary’s attention was now drawn to the sudden disturbance. Brian swung his right arm out toward the distracted man and flicked his wrist, ejecting the hidden derringer and pressing it against the man’s temple.

The man’s eyes bulged, he felt the pressure of the small gun barrel against his skull. He turned his eyes as far as he could to view his opponent and was greeted with a stone cold face at the end of the arm wielding the weapon, the blue eyes steady and controlled.

A cold smile turned Brian’s lips, “Now, sir, I believe you are in quite the compromising position. Would you be so kind as to relinquish your firearm?”

Sweat was beginning to roll down the man’s fat face; he nodded and with a shaking hand, gave his gun to the gambler. Brian’s smile widened as he took the gun, then he relaxed his arm and released the hammer on the derringer, “Please, do yourself a favor and vanish from my sight before I decide to relieve my itching trigger finger.”

The man needed no further prompting, halfway out of the saloon before the gambler finished half of his sentence. Brian pushed the derringer back into its hidden position and returned to the gaming table to collect his winnings, planning to leave this rustic burg of a town immediately.

“Got yerself out of one hell of a pinch, boy.”

Brian paused in placing his money into his pocket at the quiet, yet condescending voice. Looking up he sees a man in all black clothing with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against one of the saloon’s support beams.

Poker face in place, Brian stares into the man’s steady green eyes, “I am no boy, sir. And that was merely an inconvenience to a very lucrative night.”

The man scoffed, “So yer used to that? A scrapper pulling a gun on ya?”

Brian shrugged, indifferent, “It happens. Some people have the notion that when they sit down at a poker game, that they are not going to lose. A few don’t take the truth very well and... retaliate.”

The man shook his head, “Yeah, well, at any rate... you owe me a drink.”

Confusion was visible on Brian’s tanned face briefly before it disappeared, “And how have you come to that conclusion?”

The man smirked and nodded to the batwing doors, one of which was now hanging from only one hinge, “I jus’ saved yer hide, that’s why.”

Brian understood, but was undeterred, “I was handling the situation just fine. I needed no assistance.”

The man nodded, uncrossing his arms and pushing away from the beam, “Uh-huh, sure. He was about to smoke yer ass.”

The man walked to the bar counter, speaking to Brian over his shoulder, “I’ll have a shot of whiskey.”

Brian sighed, “Fine. Barkeep! Two shots of whiskey, please.”

Brian walked up to the bar and stopped beside the tall man. He noticed the nervous glance the barkeep gave the stranger as he set the ordered drinks before them. The dark clothed man grabbed the shot and downed it with a slight grimace.

Brian took his time and sipped at the potent liquid, deciding to introduce himself, “As I have just procured your libation, I feel I should introduce myself. My name is Brian Littrell.”

The man gave him a side glance, nodding to the barkeep for another shot, “Kevin Richardson.”

Kevin jumped at a crash, turning to see the gambler’s stunned face, his now frozen hand empty, the shot glass shattered on the floor before his shiny black boots. Brian swallowed, blinking slowly and looking at the man before him in shock, “Did... did you say... Kevin Richardson?”

Kevin tensed, giving Brian a guarded look, “Yeah, what of it?”

The usually unflappable gambler was searching for words, “Kevin Richardson... the gunslinger?”

Still suspicious, Kevin only nodded, taking his drink from the barkeep.

Brian leaned heavily against the support of the counter, shocked by what he’d just heard. Brian finally regained control. A genuine smile brightened his smooth face, “Kevin Richardson, I’ve finally found you!”

Kevin just looked at him, not knowing what to think.

Brian’s brain turned back on and he pulled himself together, “As I said, I am Brian Littrell. I have been looking for you because, well... I’m your cousin.”

Another crash sounded in the saloon, the barkeep was becoming annoyed at the destruction of his property. Kevin laid his now shot glass free hand on the counter, did he just hear right? Kevin stared at the gambler, his eyes darkening.

“You joshin’ me?” He growled.

Brian had witnessed the darkening mood and the haunted look flooding Kevin’s eyes, “No sir. Honest to whatever God presides over us; I am telling you the truth.”

Kevin turned away, processing the information. His voice was dark and factual when he spoke, “I ain’t got no family.”

Brian worried his bottom lip, then opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off.

“I don’t know what yer tryin’ to pull, but you best stay out of my way. I don’t take to cheatin’ liars,” Kevin threw some change on the counter for his drink, and then pulled his black hat lower over his hardened face. Turning back to Brian, his icy green gaze pinned the gambler down, “And right now, you are fittin’ that description.”

Brian stood rooted to his spot, staring at the dark back of Kevin Richardson as he strode out of the saloon and into the night, the clink of his spurs following his haunted form.

Brian absently placed money on the counter for the drinks, caught in a daze. What Kevin had said had hurt. Brian didn’t have the slightest notion why, but... it did. Brian leaned back against the bar, his eyes scanning the saloon. After a while, he sighed loudly and straightened, pulling his navy blue coat down slightly. He turned to the saloon’s damaged doors, determination displayed on his young face.

Brian Littrell marched out of the saloon intent on finding a certain dark clad gunslinger, while in the back of his mind he wondered what possessed him to look for the man in the first place.

~/~/~( )~~~

An old man’s glazed gray eyes stared up at him; the old man’s breathing was becoming more and more labored.

Howie Dorough brought a hand up to his brow to wipe the nervous sweat away, tossing nervous glances from the struggling old man lying on his cot to the three young men who each had a gun trained on his nervous hide.

Howie didn’t know why this was happening, but he knew he didn’t have the time to dwell on it at the moment. His mind replayed the recent events anyway. He had been minding his own business, sitting at his desk and going through medical books, when his door was kicked open and two of the three young men dragged the ailing old man in.

Snake bit.

The old man was snake bit. The three young men were his sons, they said he was bit an hour’s ride from town. Too long, there was nothing Howie could do. When he told the three sons this, they were a tad upset and ‘suggested’ he do something to save their father.

Now, as the old man was breathing his last, Howie found his sorry butt in a mess of trouble. His liquid brown eyes darted about his room, searching for something to turn the tables in this currently one-sided situation. His eyes landed on his desk where his guns lay, then the back door behind it. He was going through the distance and how long it would take to get to his guns and the door, while trying to figure a way to go about it without becoming the human version of Swiss cheese, when one of the sons spoke.

“How’s pa?” he snapped out.

Howie’s attention was brought back to the old man. He closed his eyes as he said, “I’m sorry, he’s gone.”

All three sons straightened, the same one as before speaking, “What! You’re a doctor! You were suppose’ to save ‘im!”

Howie backed away toward his desk, hands out as the sound of hammers being pulled back filled the small room, “Now, I never said I was a doctor. I’m only a healer, I try to help people the best I can, but I’m no doctor. I told you it was too late, I could do nothin’ to help him.”

“Bullshit! You’re gonna pay for what happened to our pa!”

Howie’s heart raced as he dove for his desk, his small clinic room filling with the sound of gunfire.

~/~/~( )~~~

Kevin stepped outside of the saloon and leaned his frame against one of the wooden supports to the balcony above him, his haunted eyes staring at the starry night sky.

He didn’t know what possessed him to help that gambler. All he’d wanted to do was have a few good drinks and was about to enter the saloon when a shot echoed from within. Kevin had took a glance in the window and saw a rough looking man holding a gun on a young gambler. It was obvious to Kevin that he was a gambler, he wore the duds. He had black dress pants and an expensive looking navy blue pin tailed jacket, worn over an embroidered vest and white silk shirt, topped off with a black river boat hat. Definite gambler attire.

Kevin ignored them, always had. He’d seen plenty of them in the multiple saloons he had visited, always sitting at their poker tables and fleecing the locals of their money. He was intending to ignore them again, but something stopped him. He’d be damned if he knew what it was, but it was enough. Kevin trusted his gut instincts and right then they were telling him to help the gambler. So he did.

Kevin’s mouth turned into a smile as he continued to stare out at the quiet night, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned further into the wood beam. The gambler sure was fast with a gun, he thought as he shook his head.

Kevin frowned as he recalled the gambler’s name, Brian Littrell. Kevin closed his eyes. He wasn’t gonna get his hopes up. As far as he knew, the last of his family had died with his father.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

The soft southern drawl cracked like a whip in the quiet solitude Kevin was lost in. He whirled around, drawing his gun. There stood that damned gambler, Brian Littrell, with a smile on his face. Kevin sneered and made no move to holster his gun, or to divert its aim from Brian’s heart.

“Thought I told you to bug off,” Kevin growled shortly.

“Ah, that you did,” sighed Brian, ignoring the gun pointed at him and walking to stand opposite Kevin, his eyes gazing into the darkness beyond the glow of the saloon. “Normally, I heed such advice, but I find myself not willing to ‘bug off’ just yet.”

Kevin opened his mouth to reply, when gunshots resounded from down the street. Both Kevin and Brian became alert, glancing at each other before running toward the commotion.

They slid to a stop beneath the balcony of a building, just in time to see a man crash backwards through the second level’s door to the wooden deck with a bang, his arms outstretched with guns in hand, and firing into the doorway he just fell through. Kevin and Brian both drew their guns and started up the stairs, but the man stopped firing and rolled toward the stairs, scrambling to his feet and half running, half falling down the stairs and into Brian. Both fell to the dusty ground, but soon regained their feet, not without a muffled curse from the gentleman gambler though.

Each now stood at the bottom of the stairs with guns drawn as three young men burst out of the second floor door, their heads whipping back and forth in search of the man. They froze when they found two men along side their quarry, now six gun barrels trained on them from below.

The tallest spoke, “We got no beef with you two, just him. Go on yer ways and no harm will come to ya’s!”

Kevin glanced at the man now standing beside him, seeing something familiar in his brown eyes. Kevin’s icy glare returned to the men above him, “I ain’t goin’ nowheres. You jus’ bought yerselves a heap of trouble if’n you don’t back off, right now.”

The tall man scoffed, “Who are you to butt in anyway?!”

Kevin smiled, “Name’s Kevin Richardson.”

The man and his two brothers paled, their smiles wiped away, “R- Richardson?”

“Yeah!” yelled Kevin, “And this here’s a friend of mine, you don’t have any problem with ‘im now, do ya?”

The tall man stuttered, backing away and motioning his brothers back into the clinic, “No, no Mr. Richardson. We jus’ had a diff’rence of opinion, sorry to of bothered ya. We didn’t know he was a friend of yours, we’ll leave ‘im alone. We swear.”

Kevin smirked at the babbling man, “You best get on out of town, ‘fore I decide to extract a little of my own kind’a justice!”

The man nodded vigorously, “Consider us gone.”

Then he ducked into the clinic after his brothers, their footsteps clambering loudly as they scrambled through the clinic and out the front door, back into the night.

Kevin holstered his guns, the smirk still present on his hard face. Brian holstered his guns also, then leaned heavily against the rough support of the building, gradually letting his heart calm to a normal rate. What the HELL was I thinking? Brian thought as he rubbed his head. Maybe I’m losing my good sense...

Kevin turned to the stranger beside him, his eyes looking him over. He wore simple clothes, dark cotton pants and off-white cotton shirt and a brown leather vest, he had black hair that curled to his shoulders. His eyes are what got Kevin’s attention, they reflected what he saw in the mirror everyday since his father died.

“So,” said Kevin, “What’s yer name stranger?”

The stranger’s face turned away from his clinic door to he dark man who spoke, “Howard Dorough, call me Howie. And you’re the infamous Kevin Richardson, thanks for the help.”

“No problem,” smiled Kevin, he liked this Howie. There was just this manner about him that Kevin liked, it was like he was saying ‘Here I am, take it or leave it.’

“Well, Mr. Richardson,” a sarcastic southern drawl voiced, “With the effect you have on the bad element, I think I’ll stick around you for a while.”

“And if I refuse the company?” asked Kevin, turning to the smirking gambler.

Brian’s blue eyes twinkled in ire, “Tough.”

Kevin glared at Brian, but soon dropped his head, shaking it as he hid the smile tugging at his lips.

Brian stepped away from the wall, reaching a hand out to Howie, “Brian Littrell at your service, Mr. Dorough.”

Howie smiled at the sophisticated man, shaking the offered hand, “Nice to meet ya, but please, call me Howie.” Turning, Howie addressed them both, “I owe you both a debt of thanks and an explanation, please come up to my clinic and I’ll explain everything.”

Kevin nodded and followed the healer up the stairs, but Brian hesitated. He looked up at the ascending backs. Ahh, to hell with it, he thought. I’m curious. Brian walked up the stairs and followed Howie and Kevin into the clinic, all the while the obstinate part of his mind kept repeating, Curiosity killed the cat, remember?

~/~/~( )~~~

Okay, this is a tiptop situation I got myself in, Nick thought. All right, just take deep breaths, you can handle this. Heck, this is nothing compared to the last time... Okay, not going back there. You can do this, don’t be a wuss.

Nick stiffened at his own mind calling him a wuss, his increased tension causing the hands twisting his arms behind his back to tighten. He winced and then grimaced when a raspy voice hissed in his ear.

“Don’ get no ideas, kid,” it growled, “You jus’ come with us, no fightin’. Maybe you’ll stay in one piece.”

Nick craned his head around, trying to get a look at the two men that had jumped him in the alley, “What the hell do you want?”

Branson laughed, twisting Nick’s arm more, “That’s for us to know. You bes’ keep yer mouth shut!”

Branson’s cold gray eyes glanced at his other man, nodding his black haired head out of the alley, “C’mon, lets get out of here.”

The younger, red haired man nodded while keeping his gun pressed hard in Nick’s right side. He walked along side Branson as he forced Nick to walk, keeping his hold on the young blond’s arms.

Nick swore to himself, stumbling out of the alley and into the dark main street. This was not good. Nick threw his body back and forth, trying to break free of Branson’s iron grip, ignoring the gun gouging his side. He heard Branson laugh, his grip not lessening.

The red headed man’s eyes darted around nervously, “C’mon, Branson. Lets get out of here, its too quiet.”

“Don’ worry, Mac,” smiled Branson, “There ain’t no one around this one horse town. We’re fine, no one’s gonna see us.”

Nick continued to struggle as Branson and Mac dragged him toward the livery at gunpoint.

~/~/~( )~~~

A white shape slowly materialized out of the darkness of the prairie, gradually forming into a horse and rider. They stopped at the livery doors, the buckskin clad form dismounting, patting his mare on the neck as he lead her to the stable doors.

He was halfway through the doors when a sound reached his sharp ears. He stopped, tilting his head and listening. Slowly, he turned around and looked up the main street with a hawk-like gaze. His dusty face turned down in a scowl, the image of two large men dragging a struggling young man shown before his eyes.

AJ McLean turned his mount into the livery and slapped her rump, closing the door behind her. Turning back to the men approaching, he pulled his dark brown hat lower over his eyes and pushed his long buckskin coat away from the mare’s leg at his right thigh. A smile played at his lips as he listened to the men curse as the young man continue to struggle, kicking one hard in the shin.

~/~/~( )~~~

“Ow!” cried Branson, “Goddamn it, kid! Knock it off ‘fore I knock YOU off!”

Nick just smiled, “Like to see you try.”

Branson’s face turned red, “Why you smart mouthed... You need to learn when to shut up, boy.” Branson jerked on Nick’s arms for emphasis.

Nick grunted, “I ain’t no boy! You better let me go or I’ll-”

Branson snorted, “Or you’ll what?”

Nick’s blue eyes turned cold, “Let me go and I’ll show you.”

“You ought to listen to the kid,” came a placid voice, “Ya might learn somethin’.”

Branson and Mac froze, both staring at the stranger before them. “You ain’t seen nothin’,” declared Branson, “jus’ go on yer own way. Let us go about our own business.”

AJ smirked below the shadow of his hat, he cocked his head to the side, “Now I can’t do that, not when yer takin’ that kid against his will. Just ain’t right.”

Nick remained silent, observing this new stranger with a critical eye. Most of his face was hidden under the brim of his hat, Nick didn’t trust someone who wouldn’t show their face. The stranger wore a long buckskin coat over a tan shirt and buckskin pants, a navy bandana hung loosely around his neck. Nick heard Branson laugh.

“Don’ matter if its right or not. You jus’ walk away and no one gets hurt.”

AJ shook his head and unholstered his mare’s leg, “’Fraid I can’t do that.”

Branson narrowed his eyes, switching his hands so he held Nick’s wrist with one large hand, the other resting on his revolver slung on his hip. Mac just kept his gun against Nick’s side while his wide eyes darted between the stranger and Branson.

AJ watched as Branson’s eyes flickered, then he drew his mare’s leg up and fired. Nick rammed his shoulder into Mac, causing both of them to crash to the ground. Mac’s gun twisted in his hand and went off, Nick pushed himself up on one hand and brought the other around to slam into Mac’s jaw. Mac went limp.

Breathing hard, Nick pushed away from Mac and looked up to see what became of the stranger and Branson. Branson stood with his hand grasping his gun arm, his revolver on the ground at his feet. AJ stood with his gun still aimed at Branson.

“Best get on out of here,” toned AJ’s flat voice, “An’ don’ forget yer friend.”

Branson sneered and backed away from AJ, slowly reaching down for his gun. He then went and grabbed Mac’s half-conscious form and dragged him to his feet. Branson gave AJ and then Nick one last glare, then turned and disappeared into an alley.

AJ lowered his gun and approached the young man still sitting on the dusty ground, still breathing hard. AJ went down on one knee, laying his mare’s leg on the ground. He reached out to the youth, only to have him jerk away.

AJ waited, letting the man calm down. He took the moment to get a good look at the young man. Really young man, he couldn’t be more than 18 or 19 years old. His black hat had fallen off in the struggle and AJ could now see short blond hair over a tanned face. AJ frowned when he looked into the youth’s blue eyes. They held more than they should at such a young age, and right now they glared at him under sandy eyebrows in an intense stare. They actually made AJ uncomfortable. The rest of the young man wore worn black jeans and leather vest over a light gray shirt. AJ froze momentarily as he noticed something. He reached a hand out and pushing the vest aside before the man roughly brushed him away.

“Don’t touch me!” he hissed.

AJ’s eyes were concerned when they locked with the stern blue orbs, “You were hit. How bad?”

The youth pushed away, “Its nothin’, I’m fine. Now leave me alone.”

“Nope, I’m stayin’ right here.” AJ pushed his hat up, “What’s yer name, kid?”

“Name’s Nick Carter, and I ain’t no kid!” Nick glared up at the man, “Who are you?”

“AJ McLean. Now let me see your wound, I gotta see how bad it is.”

“I said it’s fine,” Nick stated through clenched teeth while using everything he had to hide the pain.

“Nick, yer bleedin’ pretty good, so you ain’t fine.” AJ shook his head. He just had to be a stubborn brute, “There ain’t no doctor in this backwater town, but I know someone who could help in the next town.”

AJ stood and holstered his gun, then reached down and grabbed Nick before he could protest. Nick couldn’t stop himself from voicing a yelp of pain.

“See?” said AJ, scooping Nick’s hat off the ground and mashing it on Nick’s head. “You ain’t fine. C’mon, we’re goin’ right now before you end up dead.”

Nick could only fix AJ with a rebellious glare as he was hauled to the livery. This AJ guy was dragging him to some friend of his and he couldn’t do anything about it, and right now he hurt too much to really care.

They soon stood in the livery doorway. AJ glanced around, “Which one’s yer horse?”

Nick pointed to the dark bay still saddled, then watched as AJ approached his horse. He smiled as AJ jumped back with a yelp of pain, holding his hand, “Goddamn it! Yer damn horse bit me!”

Nick leaned heavily against a wooden pole, “Journey don’t like strangers.”

AJ glared at Nick, “And you couldn’t have mentioned that before I traipsed up to ‘im?!”

Nick shrugged, wincing when the motion caused pain to flare from his wound. He walked to Journey and swung into the saddle before AJ realized what he was doing.

“Damn it, kid! What did ya do that for?” That had to hurt like hell, thought AJ as he glared up at the boy. He just didn’t understand the young man. He was determined to do everything himself.

Nick’s hand gripped the saddle horn as he hunched over. He forced himself to straighten, “Lets go if we’re goin’. Otherwise, I’m lightin’ out of here on my own way.”

AJ swung onto Ghost’s back, his eyes watching Nick, “You up to this?”

“Do I have a choice?” was the clipped reply.

Nick and AJ rode out of the livery, leaving the backwater town behind. Branson stepped out of the shadowed alley, his gray eyes watching the two fade into the night with a sneer.

~/~/~( )~~~

AJ chanced a look at Nick beside him, seeing him leaning far over the saddle. AJ turned back to the town now looming before them, speaking to himself, “Hang on kid, jus’ hang on.”

They galloped into town, neither slowing as AJ led Nick to a building in the center of town. He reigned Ghost to a stop and jumped off. He looked to the second floor as he yelled, “Howie!”

Seconds after his call, Howie opened the door and after one look at Nick slumped over in the saddle, raced down the stairs. Kevin and Brian stepped onto the balcony, curious as to what was happening. They followed Howie’s steps at the sight of Nick.

Howie reached Nick’s horse as AJ was reaching up for the youth. AJ’s eyes widened when Nick suddenly fell from Journey’s back and into his arms.

Thanks go out to my beta reader Pammy!


Chapter 2

The sudden weight that fell into AJ’s arms caused his knees to buckle and he sank to the dusty ground, Nick’s face and chest turned into his frame. AJ lowered his arms so that he could turn Nick and see his face. Nick’s pale features were slack and his eyes were closed. AJ shook him as he brought him in closer to his chest.

“Kid... Hey, kid,” spoke AJ, his eyes searching for a response. “C’mon, snap out of it.”

AJ looked up when Howie kneeled before him, “What happened?”

“I ran into ‘im as a couple of brutes were hauling him to the livery at gunpoint. We had a bit of a squabble and the kid took a hit,” AJ looked down at the bloody shirt as Howie pulled the vest aside. “He wouldn’t let me see how bad it was. Hell, I had to force him just to come here.”

Howie ripped the blood soaked shirt open, revealing the damage, “He’s lucky. It just winged him, didn’t hit anything vital from what I can tell.” He paused and turned Nick into AJ to look at his back, “Went clean through. He passed out most likely ‘cause of pain and loss of blood. Let’s get him upstairs, I need to take care of the wound.”

AJ nodded and was about to stand when a hand gripped his shoulder. He looked up into a green gaze, “I got ‘im.”

AJ looked the tall man over and then nodded, the man taking Nick’s limp body up into his arms like a child and following Howie’s form up the stairs. AJ remained on the ground, pulling at his shirt which was now stained with Nick’s blood.

“Would you like some assistance in recovering your upright stature?”

AJ’s brow furrowed at the southern words, turning his head up to fix the gambler with a perplexed expression, “Huh?”

Brian smiled, “You need a hand up?”

“Oh,” AJ’s face relaxed. “Sure. Why the hell didn’t you jus’ say that?”

Brian frowned, grasping AJ’s hand and pulling him up, “I did.”

AJ opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head. He turned and walked to the stairs, just reaching them when the gambler caught up with him.

“My name is Brian Littrell, and you would be...” queried Brian, stepping along side AJ up the stairs.

“AJ McLean.”

Brian thought for a moment as they reached the top step, “Do you know the young man you brought here in such a deplorable state?”

“Nope.”

They reached the clinic doorway and saw Howie leaning over Nick and Kevin leaning against a far wall. Brian addressed AJ again, “You know nothing about him?”

“His name’s Nick Carter.”

Brian slowly nodded then prodded for more information, “Do you always step in and help those in need?”

AJ shrugged and walked to the cot Nick laid on, “Had to.”

Brian’s brow furrowed, “Had to?” Lord, the man was confusingly simple.

“Had to,” repeated AJ, looking down at Nick’s face, “I just had a feelin’ that I had to help him. I don’t usually step into trouble like that.”

Success! More than one sentence! Brian smiled at his thoughts, “I am sure that he is grateful.”

“Grateful? Ha!” AJ stared at Brian. “The damn kid was ‘bout as grateful as a chicken gettin’ its head chopped off!”

Brian took a step back, switching his gaze to Nick, “Indeed?”

AJ shook his head, “That kid is a might angry. At what? I’d say the world.”

Brian frowned and ceased conversation as Howie worked on Nick, having already cleaned the wound and was now stitching it closed. Nick never made a move or sound, just laid still.

AJ stepped forward when Howie straightened, “He gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine in about a day, but he’ll have to take it easy for a week or two after that. He’s got to build his blood back up and let the wound heal. C’mere and lift him up so’s I can bandage it.” Howie placed a wad of gauze on each wound as AJ lifted him up, then proceeded to wrap a bandage around his torso and over his shoulder to help keep it in place.

“Okay, lay him back down.” Howie told AJ after he tied the bandage off, “He’ll sleep for a while.”

Kevin pushed away from the wall, “You wanna go into more detail of how this happened?”

AJ’s eyes narrowed as he looked Kevin up and down once more, “How ‘bout you tell me your name first.”

Kevin nodded, “Kevin Richardson.”

AJ gave no reaction to the name, “AJ McLean.”

Kevin was slightly surprised that AJ didn’t know who he was, “Well, what happened?”

“Just what I said before,” replied AJ, finding a chair and pulling it to rest beside Nick’s bed before sitting, “I rode into that backwater town and a couple of guys were draggin’ him to the livery. I knew it wasn’t right, what with him fightin’ the whole way. So I confronted them and they got all: ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ and ‘You jus’ walk away’. It was like they were doin’ some organized thing. The guy that talked acted like he was someone important or that what he was doin’ was important.” AJ’s eyebrows narrowed as he stated his speculations, then he shook himself. “Anyways, I pretty much told ‘em they couldn’t take the kid and the talkin’ one started to draw his gun. I shot him in the gun hand and the kid rammed into the other one that had a gun on ‘im. That was when he got shot. I told the two men to get and then I brought the kid here.”

Howie stared at AJ, “Jeez, AJ. That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at one time.”

AJ shrugged, “Had somethin’ worth sayin’.”

Kevin’s hard green eyes fixed to Nick’s form, “What’s his name?”

“Said it was Nick Carter,” replied AJ.

Kevin’s head shot up to look at AJ, “Carter?”

“Yep.”

Kevin’s eyes returned to Nick, “Thought there was something familiar about him.”

Howie looked at Kevin, “What do you mean?”

“I’ve heard of him. He’s got a name for himself, Kaos Carter. Been in a few tiffs throughout the territories.”

Howie looked thoughtfully at the unconscious youth, “Outlaw?”

“No,” Kevin shook his head. “Jus’ seems to be in the wrong places at the wrong times. He’s had to stick up for himself and without meaning to; he has helped some folks in the process.” Kevin paused in thought, “He’s pretty good.”

Brian stood to one side and took in the information. He wondered if Kevin meant good as in a good person, or good as in he was good at what he did. Brian blinked, then shook his head. Brian removed his hat and joined the others around Nick, “Perhaps this reputation of his is the reason for his recent mistreatment.”

Kevin looked thoughtful, “Maybe. Could be some old run-in of his wanted to settle the score.”

AJ shook his head, “I don’t know. Those guys were takin’ him somewhere and weren’t acting like they wanted him dead.”

AJ leaned back in his chair and looked at Kevin and Brian, then Howie, “So, Howie, how’d you meet up with these two?”

Howie looked slightly embarrassed, “They saved my butt from getting shot to pieces.”

AJ smirked and raised an eyebrow, “Really? And you thought healing would be safer. How’d it happen?”

As Howie told AJ of the three brothers wanting revenge for their father, Brian pondered what AJ just said. When Howie finished speaking, Brian asked, “What was your former occupation, Howie?”

Howie frowned, “I don’t like to talk about it. Its done and over with, I don’t fancy on talkin’ about it again.”

Brian backed off, “I understand. So, how do you and AJ know of each other?”

AJ looked from under the brim of his hat at the Southerner, “You sure like to talk, don’t ya?”

Brian smiled and pulled a deck of cards from his pocket, “Would you rather play a game of chance?”

AJ shook his head, “Howie got me out of a pinch once, been friends ever since.”

“‘Cept I haven’t seen you for over a year,” declared Howie. “Where the hell have you been?”

AJ pulled his hat lower and settled further into the chair, “Around.”

“Around,” repeated Howie, sighing because he knew that would be the extent of what AJ would say on the subject. Howie faced Kevin and Brian, “Well, Nick won’t be awake for a while I expect, so you don’t have to stick around.”

Kevin leaned against the wall once more, “I’m stayin’. I want to know what got the kid in that mess.”

Brian laid his hat on the table, finding a chair and after dusting it off, sat, “I must admit that my curiosity is pricked. I would also like an explanation for what has befallen our young burden.”

Howie stared at Brian, “Don’t you ever speak plain English?”

Brian looked confused, “Have I not been?”

AJ smiled, “Sounds like Japanese or somethin’ to me.”

Kevin smiled as Brian’s face twisted in insult. So, someone can actually frazzle the gambler, he thought. Nice to know.

Brian stared indignantly at AJ, “Just because I have had the proper education, you insult me.”

“Well, hell Brian,” guffawed AJ, his brown eyes twinkling beneath his hat, “Ya don’t need no education to talk.”

“Double negative, Mr. McLean.”

AJ pushed his hat up and stared at the gambler, “Huh?”

“‘Ya don’t need no education’,” quoted Brian, “Correctly stated, it is ‘You don’t need any education’ or ‘You need no education’.”

AJ’s brow furrowed, “That’s just what I said!” Then after a pregnant pause, “Isn’t it?”

Kevin couldn’t keep the laugh in and it burst past his lips in a strangled manner. Brian and AJ’s heads whipped around to see the laughing gunslinger and Howie covering his mouth as his shoulders shook suspiciously. Brian and AJ looked at each other, AJ spoke, “What’s so damn funny?!”

Brian shrugged, then leaned back in his chair and lifted his feet to rest on Nick’s cot, elbows on armrests and fingers steepled over his chest, “Is something amusing, gentlemen?”

“You two,” gasped Kevin as his laughter was brought under control. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed like that.

Brian raised an eyebrow and glanced at AJ, “Us?”

Howie snickered, “You just should’ve seen you two. You were fightin’ about how to talk for God’s sake!”

AJ smirked, “‘Spose that would be ‘amusing’, huh Bri’?”

Brian raised an eyebrow, “Bri’?”

“Yeah, Bri’. I like it, don’t you?” asked AJ.

Brian just raised his other eyebrow and chose not to comment. Howie shook his head and went about cleaning and putting away his stuff. Kevin continued to lean against the wall with arms crossed and head bowed low, a smirk still present on his face. Brian busied himself by shuffling his cards in intricate patterns, performing slight of hand, and card tricks. AJ was slumped back in the chair with his hat pulled so low over his face that he appeared to be sleeping, when in reality his dark eyes were intently watching the gambler perform his talents. This is how they were found several hours later, the sun having arisen into the sky in the cause of mid morning.

AJ’s eyes began to droop and he soon fell into what his appearance projected. Only to be jerked awake immediately as a groan sounded from the figure on the cot. AJ sat up and removed his hat to reveal his wild dark hair. He looked down on the awakening Nick.

Another groan, louder this time as he move slightly. Kevin, Howie, and Brian were all at attention now, surrounding the bed. They watched as Nick’s head moved to the side and then back again, his eyelids fluttering before going still once more.

“C’mon, kid,” urged AJ. “Time to wake up.”

AJ’s voice seemed to have an effect on Nick, his eyes slowly opening and blinking rapidly to try and focus. Nick’s face was still pale and sweat glistened on his skin because of his slight fever from the gunshot wound.

Nick felt like he was floating in water, numb until a burning pain appeared in his right side. When it didn’t go away, Nick groaned. He tried to weakly move away from the pain, but this only caused it to worsen and he groaned again. A soft, low voice spoke to him. It called him kid and told him to wake up. Pete? Nick silently asked. Nick felt his head lifted and a cup pressed against his lips, cool liquid flowing out and down his dry throat. When it left he forced his eyes open and was greeted with one big blur. He blinked, his surroundings beginning to focus and Nick looked for Pete.

No Pete. He should have known that though, Pete’s dead. Nick didn’t like what he did see before him though; four strange faces stared down at him, surrounding him. What the hell? Who the hell are these guys? And what am I doin’ here... What do they want? Nick’s eyes widened in fear of the unknown and he gripped the material he laid on, trying to push away from the strange men around him.

Howie saw the fear flash through the fevered blue eyes and quickly tried to reassure the young man, “Hey, its okay. We ain’t goin’ to hurt you. Understand? We ain’t goin’ to hurt you.”

Nick repeated what Howie said in his mind, gradually accepting it. He didn’t really have a choice. They could hurt him if they wanted, but they hadn’t yet. Maybe he’s tellin’ the truth. Nick took a deep breath, wincing when pain shot through his side. He couldn’t remember what happened, his mind was foggy.

AJ laid a hand on Nick’s arm, ignoring the flinch, “You were shot, kid. Do you remember?”

Nick looked at AJ and felt his normal anger and reproach return. He glared at AJ, “I ain’t no kid. No, I don’t remember, and who the hell are you?”

AJ sighed, the pleasant attitude was back. “I am the guy that saved your ass, AJ McLean.”

Nick sneered. AJ continued, “That man in black there is Kevin Richardson,” AJ saw Nick tense, “The fancy one is Brian Littrell and that there is Howie Dorough, he patched you up.”

Nick cast suspicious eyes on each of them, his gaze showing the smallest glimmer of thanks when on Howie. “I’m Nick Carter. Am I gonna be okay?”

Howie smiled, “Yeah, given a day’s rest. You have a slight fever, but I expected that and you’ll be sleepy because of all the blood you lost.”

“Okay then, I’m outta here,” Nick forced himself into a sitting position and began to swing his legs off the bed when Howie pushed him back down.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he said sternly.

Teeth clenched, Nick glared up at Howie, “To hell I ain’t. You can’t tell me what to do.”

AJ clapped Nick upside the head lightly, “Listen to him, Nick. You jus’ might learn somethin’.”

Nick’s eyes widened, staring blankly. ...You jus’ might learn somethin’... ...You jus’ might learn somethin’... Nick gasped as his memory came back in a rush, the two men grabbing him in the alley, AJ showing up to help him, getting shot, the ride... All of this assaulted Nick’s mind at once, breaking through the fog. He finally registered his name being called.

“Nick! ... Nick! Will ya snap out of it?!” yelled AJ. Nick had just spaced out, “Nick!”

“Yeah! Will ya shut up?!” Nick cried, shrugging AJ’s hands off of his shoulders. “I remember now.”

AJ glanced at the others, “What made it come back to ya?”

“What you said, ‘You might learn somethin’.”

The light went on in AJ’s eyes, “I said that to those two guys.”

Nick nodded. Kevin spoke for the first time and AJ couldn’t help but notice how Nick paid attention to every word.

“Do you know why it happened, Nick? Why they were takin’ you like that?”

“No idea. All's I know is one minute I’m walkin’ down the alley, the next my arm is twisted behind my back and a gun is jabbed in my side,” Nick grimaced from both memory and a twinge of pain in his side. “Something about it didn’t feel right though, you know what I mean?”

Brian nodded and stroked his chin, “You had a suspicion that the miscreants that accosted you had ulterior motives as to the reason you were being abducted.”

Nick stared at Brian, “Ummm... yeah.” Then he muttered to AJ, “What the hell kind of language was that?”

AJ broke out laughing while Brian rolled his eyes, “I mean that you believe that the men attacking you had other reasons for taking you.”

“Oh, okay. In that case, yeah.” Nick actually smiled; the exasperated gambler couldn’t help but smile back.

Kevin’s level voice wiped the smiles away, “You don’t have any idea why this happened?”

“No,” stated Nick, avoiding Kevin’s icy gaze, “I know their names though. The young one was called Mac and the older basterd’s name was Branson.”

Kevin stiffened, “Branson?”

Nick nodded, his eyelids suddenly feeling heavy while his faint headache intensified. He relaxed back into the soft cot, feeling overwhelmingly sleepy.

Howie smiled down at him, “See? I told you that you were stayin’ right here. You get some sleep, we’ll look out for ya.”

Nick blinked at Howie’s last words, but his eyes soon fell closed and he was asleep. Howie turned to the others, “Why don’t you get out of here for a while, he needs his rest. One of us can stay with him. The rest go.”

Kevin didn’t hear a word he said, his eyes having a far away look to them. He didn’t say a word as he abruptly turned and left the room. Howie, AJ, and Brian watched him leave. Howie blinked, “I guess that leaves one of us.”

“I’ll stay,” said AJ, once again settling back in his chair. “You go get some sleep, Howie. You were up this whole time, you’re beat.”

Howie nodded, “Yeah, you come and get me though if he wakes up.”

AJ nodded, “Go.”

Howie left the room and headed to the bunking house. Brian retrieved his cards from where they were laid out in a game of solitaire on the table, stopping to address AJ, “I think I shall go see what is amiss with Kevin.”

AJ didn’t raise his head as he said, “You’ll be playin’ with fire.”

“I know,” sighed Brian, fitting his hat onto his head, “But I don’t think he will come to any... violent repercussions.”

“Why’s that?” asked AJ, curious.

Brian walked to the door before stopping and answering in a low voice, “I’m the only family he has left.”

Brian found Kevin immediately, having gone straight to the saloon. Kevin already sat with a half empty bottle of red-eye. Brian took a deep breath before closing the distance and sitting across from the obviously troubled man.

“You have wasted no time, I see,” stated Brian, gesturing to the bottle.

Kevin shrugged, taking another swig.

Brian bit his lip, thinking on how to proceed, “What happened? What has made you look to the singular inspirations of inebriated bliss?”

“Damn it, Brian,” swore Kevin, “Will you jus’ speak plain for once?”

“What has caused you to return to the bottle so fast?”

“Somethin’ the kid said.”

Brian frowned, wondering what he missed, “What?”

Kevin’s only answer was another swig of red-eye, then Kevin placed it back on the table. Brian sighed, “Come on, Kevin. You can talk to me.”

Kevin stared at the bottle as he rotated it with his fingers, “You know about my past, right?”

Brian nodded.

Kevin’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the bottle before him, “Branson was one of the men that killed my father and damn near me, too.”

Thanks for the reviews! They make me feel all good inside. And yes, I am back. :) Check out my site in my profile if you want to see how back I am. I just thought I’d start posting some stories on Absolute Chaos to pull in some new readers. I hope you all enjoy this story!

And once again, thanks to my beta Pammy!



Chapter 3

AJ sat slumped in the sturdy, wooden chair, hat low over his face. His calloused hands locked together and resting on his stomach as his feet perch on Nick’s bed, crossed at the ankles. Beneath the shadow of his hat, AJ’s brown eyes drift closed, his head nodding forward.

With a sharp inhale of air, AJ’s eyes snap open wide and his head snaps up straight so fast it cracks against the high back of the chair, knocking his hat to the dusty floor.

“Damn!” AJ winced in pain, dropping his feet from Nick’s bed and leaning forward to raise a hand to massage the back of his head. AJ blinked his sleepy eyes and looked at the window, gauging it to be around early afternoon. What the hell woke me up? AJ glanced at Nick, seeing him still asleep. He leaned over him and placed a hand on the young blond’s forehead, still feeling a slight fever.

AJ leaned back, looking around the room. It weren’t the kid, so what in the blazes woke me up?! A muffled neigh drifted up to AJ, causing him to look to the ceiling and curse.

“Shit,” AJ shook his head in shame, “I forgot about the horses, I never forget about the horses.”

AJ continued to grumble under his breath as he stooped over to pick up his hat, straightening and slapping it back and forth against his buckskinned leg. AJ mashed it on his head as he turned to the sleeping Nick, “I’ll be right back, kid. Don’t you go nowhere, ya hear?”

AJ watched him a moment longer, receiving no response. Shrugging, AJ strode to and out the clinic door, wanting to take care of the horses as fast as he could. He didn’t want to leave Nick alone too long.

Looking from the balcony to the alley below, AJ grimaced. Both horses were looking mighty pissed, having stood there for the better part of last night and the whole morning. As AJ started down the stairs, he observed the two steeds. Ghost he could handle, she looked a bit annoyed, but otherwise fine and just wanting a nice, comfy stall. Looking at the tall bay, AJ bit his lip. He swore he could see fire burning in those brown eyes staring back at him as he reached the bottom step.

AJ walked up to Ghost, taking her reins and patting her neck, talking softly as the white horse nudged his shoulder with a nicker. AJ again looked at the bay; he was trying to decide if he should take them both at once or one at a time. He was leaning toward the latter, the bay blowing through his nose and stomping the dirt, small dust clouds rising from the impact.

AJ turned toward the street, sending a glance to the clinic door. He really didn’t like leaving the kid alone, he didn’t know why, he just didn’t. Looking out the alley AJ caught a flash of blue and smiled, he lead Ghost from the alley to the saloon across the way. Halfway there, AJ shouted for his quarry’s attention, “‘ey! Brian!”

The man in question jumped, jerking his head to the shout. Brian relaxed at seeing AJ walking up to him leading his white horse, “You vociferated my given moniker, AJ?”

AJ stopped before Brian, who stood on the boardwalk, “If yer askin’ if I jus’ called yer name, yeah, I did. You wanna go look over the kid while’s I take care of the horses? They been standin’ in the alley all night and Nick’s horse is fit to be tied.”

Brian frowned. AJ almost thought the gambler was going to say no. He watched as Brian seemed to be contemplating something in his mind, “Never mind, you don’t have’ta. I’ll jus’ do this as quick as I can.”

AJ turned and started to walk to the livery when Brian stopped him, “No!” Brian cleared his throat, “No, I will minister to our young charge as you tend the neglected creatures.”

AJ smiled, “Thanks, pard. I shouldn’t take too long...” AJ thought a moment, “That is, if that danged bay don’t kill me.”

Brian cracked a smile as AJ walked away, then he looked to the clinic. I really must remember how to ignore my conscience, or else I shall do something totally against my standards. Hell, I just received the cold shoulder from Kevin when I tried to help, and here I am doing it again. Brian sent a glance over the bat-wing doors, frowning as Kevin took another pull from the bottle of red-eye.

With a sigh, Brian straightened his hat and proceeded to walk across the dusty street to the clinic. Reaching the alley stairs, Brian could see what AJ had to look forward to. Nick’s horse was standing still, silently fuming and daring anyone to come within a foot of him. Brian took a wide birth of the animal and walked up the stairs.

Brian opened the clinic door and strode in, freezing in mid step as he registered the sight before him. Nick was standing beside his bed, his back to Brian, putting on his black vest over his gray shirt.

Brian quietly walked to the bed and stopped, “Going somewhere, Mr. Carter?”

Nick jumped and then yelped, spinning around with a hand to his side. Nick’s fevered blue eyes narrowed at the smirking gambler, “I’m leavin’.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Brian calmly replied, “I do not think it would be a wise venture, though. You are still recovering from your bullet wound.”

“I’m fine,” Nick replied coldly, “I don’t need anyone tellin’ me what I should do, I do jus’ fine on my own.”

Brian’s jeweled eyes twinkled, “This coming from a man who has just been shot while trying to foil someone’s attempt at kidnapping him?”

Nick said nothing, merely glaring at Brian. Brian sighed, “I am here to look over you for AJ and I don’t think he’ll take to me letting you leave very kindly. So, for my own well-being, you are going to sit your ass down and not get up until you are well.” Brian looked at Nick with cold eyes, “Understood?”

Some part of Nick’s fevered mind recognized the warning; he scowled and then returned to his bed, avoiding the gambler’s smiling face. Nick knew he was in no condition to argue and it made him angry, causing his mood to be even darker than normal.

“Well, then,” drawled Brian, settling down in the chair AJ previously occupied, “Would you be at all interested in a friendly game of poker?”

Nick looked to the gambler, seeing him holding a pack of cards in the hand that was empty the second before. Where the hell did he get those?

Brian took Nick’s silence as a ‘no’, “Just a suggestion. Well, maybe we should get to know each other, as we are to be in common company for the time being.”

Nick leaned back into his pillows, crossing his arms over his chest and setting his mouth in a firm line. Brian raised an eyebrow at his response, taking his cards and shuffling absently. He soon began to shuffle in intricate patterns, performing tricks and slight of hand with an almost detached manner.

Nick found his eyes drawn to the act the gambler put on, staring in wonder at the tricks the gambler did. Brian smiled knowingly without looking up, knowing he had the youth’s attention, “Ever played the game, Nick?”

Nick looked away, cursing himself for showing so much on his face with his interest in the cards. “No,” was Nick’s only answer.

Brian continued shuffling, looking up to Nick and cocking his head to the side, “Would you like to learn?”

Nick looked at Brian, trying to see if the gambler was mocking him. All he saw was an open expression of understanding. Understanding? What the hell did the gambler know about him to understand anything? Nick frowned, but nodded his head. Maybe it would keep Brian from asking anymore questions.

Brian smiled and scooted his chair closer to Nick’s bed, preparing to show Nick how to play something that was his livelihood.

~/~/~( )~~~

AJ shut the stall door, throwing the brush he just used to clean Ghost’s coat in a nearby bucket. He sighed, “Now for the fun part.”

AJ straightened his shoulders and walked out of the livery, his steps becoming slower and slower as he neared the clinic alley. He stopped at the entrance, staring at the bay stallion that hadn’t moved a muscle since the last time he saw him. That’s always a good sign, AJ thought sarcastically, the calm before the storm.

AJ cautiously approached the bay, one hand held before him to show he meant no harm. The stallion merely blew through his nose, snorting and stepping back a couple feet. AJ stopped. Shit. How the hell am I gonna do this? Damn horse.

“Now, listen here...” AJ stopped, What the hell was his name again? Jolly? No. Jerky? Ha! Doubt it. ... Johnny? Jervy? Damn it! What the hell was it?! ... AJ thought to his first encounter with the horse and what Nick had said. “Journey don’t like strangers.” That’s it! Journey! “All right, Journey, I ain’t goin’ ta hurt ya none. I jus’ wanna take you to the nice barn and nice stall, okay?”

AJ again approached the horse, surprised when Journey made no move to retreat or attack. Maybe I was worryin’ for nothin’. AJ smiled at the bay, “Good horse, lets get you in the barn now.”

Journey didn’t move as AJ reached for the reins. AJ sighed in relief as he now held them and was still in one piece. That wasn’t so bad. AJ looked at Journey, “All right, horse. Lets go.”

AJ gave the reins a little tug and lead Journey out of the alley, feeling right nice that that went so good. AJ didn’t get much further than a couple of steps before there was a searing, biting, pain in his rear. AJ gave a yelp and scooted forward, “Son of a bitch! You damned horse!”

Journey just gazed at him innocently, an almost comical look in his eyes. AJ clenched his teeth, one hand rubbing his smarting butt, before turning on his heel and leading the bothersome horse the rest of the way to the livery.

~/~/~( )~~~

Nick looked up from his cards at the loud curse that echoed from the alley, the voice unmistakably AJ’s. Nick grinned for the second time since Brian had met him. Brian looked at Nick for an explanation to the yell.

Nick’s eyes twinkled with ire, “Journey don’t like strangers... not too fond of being kept waiting, either.”

Brian chuckled. Nick was an all right kid, just a bit misguided. But hell, who wasn’t? Brian put his talents to work and attempted to read the young drifter. He’s seen a lot and knows it. He doesn’t trust people, but that isn’t exactly uncommon. I don’t trust anybody. He can’t be more than eighteen, even though he acts like he’s older. Nick is hiding, from... something. Brian made a decision, and was surprised at himself. I like him. Lord help me, I like him. I like the personality I see under the angry exterior.

Brian shook his head slightly. He smiled at Nick and continued the card game. Whether Nick knew it or not, whether he accepted it or not, he had just gained a friend that took the time to look past his wall and saw who he truly was. Even if the aforementioned friend hadn’t even accepted it... yet.

~/~/~( a couple miles outside of town )~~~

“Damn it, Mac! Will ya quit lolly-gagging!”

“Well, ‘scuse me!” retorted Mac, “I wasn’t the one that lost the kid!”

Branson fumed, resisting the urge to clock the red headed idiot, “Yer the one that let him get the drop on ya! I had a gun in my face, what’s yer excuse?!”

Mac opened his mouth and then closed it, drawing a blank. Branson smirked, mounting his horse, “That’s what I thought. Let’s go, that tracker could’ve only took him one place. That’s the only other town for miles.”

Mac scowled, “What about the other guys?”

“I wired them back in that backwater,” informed Branson, “They’re meetin’ us there.”

Mac mounted his horse with a grunt, the world spinning slightly as he got his seat. He fingered the bruise marring the side of his face, “Damn kid could throw a punch.”

Branson frowned, his gray eyes landing on his bandaged arm, “And that tracker could shoot. We’d best watch ourselves, but nothin’ is stoppin’ me from gettin’ that kid. He’s worth too much.”

They started off in a walk toward the town seen in the distance, “What are we gonna do?” Mac asked after a few minutes.

Branson smiled, “I got a plan.”

They kicked their mounts into a gallop, the town becoming closer and closer.

~/~/~( )~~~

AJ slammed the barn door shut, cursing under his breath as he spun around and stalked back towards the clinic. He almost ran into Howie as the healer stepped out of the bunk house.

“Jeez, AJ!” cried Howie, reeling back to avoid collision, “Where’s the fire?”

AJ sneered, “Nowhere, I just got done puttin’ Nick’s damn horse to stall. He damn near bit my head off!”

Howie smiled, “A horse that don’t like you? That’s a switch. I though you could handle any horse.”

“Not that beast, he ain’t what I’d classify as a horse! He tries to get at you no matter what ya do,” replied AJ with a wave of his hand to the livery, then his hand rested on his backside, “Damn thing got a piece of me, too.”

Howie laughed outright, “He bit you?” Howie glanced at AJ’s hand that rubbed his rear, “There?”

“Yeah,” sighed AJ, then he pointed a finger at Howie’s smiling face, “You can shut up about it, too. I don’t wanna ruin my rep or anything.”

Howie chuckled, turning toward his clinic, “What rep?”

AJ fell into step with Howie, “I’ll let that slide. So, you gonna check on the kid?”

“Yep,” nodded Howie, “Who’s watchin’ him, I thought you were.”

“I had Brian go look after him while I took care of the horses,” AJ looked at Howie as they reached the clinic stairs, “He is gonna be all right, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Howie assured, “What’s with all the worry though, AJ? You don’t even know ‘im.”

AJ shrugged, stopping at the top of the stairs, “I kinda feel it’s my fault, him gettin’ shot. Maybe if I’da done somethin’ different, he wouldn’t of gotten shot. He’s just a kid, Howie.”

Howie turned to face AJ before opening the door to his clinic, “You did what you had to, AJ. If ya done any different, he might be dead. And yeah, he is a kid, but don’t be tellin’ him that.”

Howie left it at that and opened the door, smiling at the scene before him. Nick was awake and arguing up a storm with the gambler, who was trying to grab his hat from the young blond.

“Damn it, Nick!” he yelled, “Give it back!”

“Not until you say it!”

Howie and AJ watched as Brian slumped back in his chair, the gambler’s missing vocabulary not going unnoticed.

“Fine!” Brian frowned and forced out, “You won.”

Nick looked satisfied and returned the black felt hat, “Thank you. Now, wanna play again?”

“No,” sulked Brian, gathering up his cards. The kid lied, he had played poker before. And damn it! He beat me! No one beats me! But... I wasn’t really trying, so it doesn’t count. Next time will be different.

“You boys havin’ fun?” asked AJ, now standing beside Brian.

Brian sneered, then broke into a bright smile, “How was your sojourn to the task of procuring shelter for our perturbed steeds?”

AJ blinked, the fancy words were back, “I did right fine.”

Brian cocked an eyebrow, “Really? I could have sworn I heard rather loud profanity reverberating from the alley a moment ago. It resembled your voice, AJ.”

AJ scowled at the smiling gambler, not answering because he knew the gambler was just trying to rile him. Howie smirked and walked around the bed to Nick’s left side, “So, Nick. How are you feelin’? Is yer side hurtin’ any?”

Nick shook his head, “I’m fine.”

Howie looked doubtful, “No headache? Stomach ache?”

“I’m fine.”

“That is all that has come out of his mouth when asked of his health,” supplied Brian.

Howie felt Nick’s forehead, ignoring it when he pulled away, “Still a little warm, but the fever’s down. Come tonight or morning, he should be well enough to be on his feet. He has to take it easy, though. I don’t want him pulling his stitches.”

Nick looked up at the men surrounding him yet again. He didn’t know what to make of it. Brian was all right. AJ treats me like a kid. Howie... well, I haven’t been around him long enough to know yet. And Kevin... I haven’t seen him since I woke up. Not that I’m complainin’. He’s THE Kevin Richardson. I don’t know if I wanna see him again.

Howie surprised Nick when he asked, “Where’s Kevin?”

AJ shrugged, Brian scowled, “He is currently in the residence of the saloon, wallowing in his sorrows.”

Nick frowned, he wanted to be alone. He wanted out of here. He didn’t know these men or what they really wanted from him. Nick looked from face to face as they spoke of Kevin’s whereabouts and that they wanted to talk to him. Nick bit his lip, he decided to play sick. Maybe they’d leave then.

Howie glanced at Nick when he yawned suddenly, looking very tired. That fever might not be as far gone as I thought. “Okay, guys. Let’s leave Nick alone so he can rest, our jabberin’ is just keepin’ him up. So, out!”

Brian got up and placed his hat on his head, nodding to Nick before walking out the door. AJ looked a little hesitant and made to sit in the chair, but Howie stopped him with a hand to his shoulder, “He’ll be fine, AJ. Let him sleep.”

Relenting, AJ nodded and they left the clinic to go to the saloon. They hoped to stop Kevin before he got hopelessly drunk and started trouble.

As soon as the door closed, Nick was sitting up and grabbing his vest. Once he had it on he looked for his guns, finding them on a nearby table. Now armed and fully clothed, Nick walked to the alley way door, grabbing his hat on the way. He pressed his ear to the rough wood, listening. Satisfied, Nick eased the door open, cautiously peeking out. The alley is deserted, the late afternoon shadows making it dark as the sun set.

I am outta here.

~/~/~( )~~~

Kevin looked up as the feeling of being watched settled in his gut. Howie, AJ, and Brian stood before his table and the saloon went quiet. The patrons were content to leave the dark gunslinger alone, but now there looked to be trouble brewing.

Howie snatched up the bottle, “I think you’ve had enough, Kev.”

Kevin glowered, “I’ll be the judge of that, Howie.”

Howie backed away as Kevin stood and stepped forward, reaching for the bottle. AJ stepped in front of Kevin, “You ain’t to be gettin’ plastered. You’ll just start trouble and we don’t need any.”

Kevin felt fire burning within him, his eyes narrowed to slits, “You sayin’ I’m nothin’ but trouble?”

AJ straightened and glared back at Kevin, balling his fists, “Maybe.”

Brian took in the scene and thought it wise to step in, “Uhh... Gentlemen, must we resort to a display of-”

“Shut it, Brian,” snapped Kevin, “AJ wants trouble? I’ll give him trouble.”

None of them saw it coming, but they should have. One moment AJ stood the next he was flat on his back. Howie snapped out of his shock, “Kevin! What the hell did ya do that for?!”

AJ wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, grimacing at the blood he saw there from his split lip. He stood with an arm up from Howie.

“He asked for it,” calmly replied Kevin.

AJ again stood in Kevin’s face, “I knew who you were when you first said yer name, I know who Kevin Richardson is. I thought I’d give ya a clean slate though, let you show me who you are and not what the country folk say you are. You just got a notch down in my book, Kevin. Maybe you’ll think to try and better that later on! If I listen!”

AJ then blew by Kevin, shouldering him to the side as he stalked out of the saloon. Kevin stood for a moment, the hardened gunslinger was shocked.

Kevin looked at Brian and then Howie, “He knew and didn’t think... He didn’t assume that I’m...”

Howie shook his head, placing the bottle back on the dusty table, “Is it so hard to believe, Kev?”

“Yes.”

“My life is reading what people are,” drawled Brian quietly, “AJ McLean is an honest man that sees his surroundings as they really are. He wanted to see for himself what you were, are. Everyone and everything has a ‘clean slate’ to him.”

Kevin mentally slapped himself. He and AJ hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot, he didn’t know why. I just don’t trust him, something is botherin’ me about him. Hell, I trust the gambler, but not the tracker.

Howie sighed, “You had better redeem yerself or you ‘ave lost him as a friend.”

“Friend?” asked Kevin, “I have no friends.”

Kevin sat back down at the table, but he didn’t touch the bottle. Brian and Howie glanced at each other, then joined him. They sat in silence, letting Kevin think over his actions.

~/~/~( )~~~

AJ marched to the clinic, still fuming. He flung the door open, striding in, “Hey, kid. Didn’t mean to scare ya-”

AJ froze, his voice breaking off, “Nick?” The room is empty; the bed covers flung aside and barren of the body they once held.

AJ searched the room with his eyes, finding no sign of the drifter. He slowly reeled back, “Son of a-” AJ spun around and burst out the door and half ran, half fell down the stairs, muttering the whole way, “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”

He hightailed it to the saloon, flying through the bat-wing doors and skidding to a halt, causing the three at the table he sought to jump to their feet and send their hands to their guns.

“AJ?” asked Howie, staring at the gasping tracker, “What the hell?”

“He’s... gone,” gasped AJ, slightly hunched over, “Nick’s... gone...”

“What!?” was the collective reply.

AJ finally got his breath back, “Nick’s gone, he ain’t in the clinic.”

“Well,” growled Kevin, “let’s go find him and bring him back. He’s been attracting trouble worse than me.”

No sooner than the words leaving Kevin’s mouth did gunshots echo from the darkening street outside.

~/~/~( )~~~

Oh, Christ! Of all the... Nick couldn’t believe it as he reeled back from the livery, stumbling and falling to the ground.

“AH! Damn it!” gasped Nick, grasping his wounded side in pain and closing his eyes.

“Well, well, well,” toned a familiar voice, “Look what we have here, boys. Guess I don’t have to use that plan.”

Nick opened his pained eyes and glared up at Branson, who sat on horseback, several men astride behind him. Nick could make out, maybe, ten.

Branson chuckled and leaned over his horse, “Hey, Carter. Ready to go?”

“To hell with you!” yelled Nick, scrambling back and glancing nervously around, searching for an escape. There were a stack of crates along side the mercantile, no more than fifteen feet away. Nick started inching toward it, still on the ground.

“No thanks, kid, already been there.”

Nick froze at the sound of several guns cocking. Shit. Nick took one slow breath, then scrambled to his feet. Nick clenched his teeth as his side felt on fire, one arm wrapped around his middle. The dust around him started billowing up at him in spurts as gunfire rang out behind him. He half ran, half crawled to the crates and cover, his one free arm reaching to the ground to steady himself.

Almost there, almost there. One particular gunshot hit the crates just as Nick neared them, sending splinters flying. He cried out and fell to the ground as the splinters burned his face. Nick gasped for breath and looked up, seeing the men and Branson riding toward him.

Fine, they want it the hard way. Don’t say I didn’t give them the chance to back off. Nick rolled onto his back and drew his guns, aiming and firing at his attackers. One cried out and fell from his horse, clutching his chest. One down, nine to go.

Nick pushed himself back and then ceased fire long enough to lunge behind the crates, hearing the bullets biting into the old wood. He took a moment to catch his breath, leaning back against the crates, eyes closed.

A loud and familiar sound rang out over the gunfire, causing Nick’s eyes to snap open. AJ’s mare’s leg.

“You boys wanna tell us what yer shootin’ at?!” he called out from... Hell, Nick didn’t see him anywhere.

Branson and his eight remaining men couldn’t see AJ either, all of them looking wildly around, having ceased their fire. Branson narrowed his eyes, “Tracker! That you?!”

“The one and only, Branson! Now, leave the kid alone!”

“‘Fraid I can’t do that, stranger! He’s signed and paid for delivery!”

AJ looked down at Branson and his gang from his perch above the saloon. Signed and paid for? What the hell does that mean?!

Brian casually stepped out onto the boardwalk in front of the saloon, a cigar held in his lips. He turned to the gang, “Would any of you fine gentlemen have a light?”

“What?” asked Branson, stunned.

Howie appeared from the shadows across the street, the alley by the clinic, “I believe he asked ya’s an easy enough question, but I got it covered.”

Howie tossed Brian a box of matches across the street, landing at Brian’s feet, “Much obliged, sir.”

Brian casually bent over and picked up the box. Then Kevin walked out into the dark street, the setting sun casting everything in a glowing orange. His dark form stalked down the center of the street, he stopped thirty feet from the gang.

Branson was getting dizzy, What the hell was goin’ on? “And who are you?”

Kevin narrowed his ice green eyes beneath the shadow of his black hat, his mouth turned in a scowl as he answered Branson, his voice dripping in deadly malice, “Kevin Richardson.”

Branson nearly dropped his gun.

Kevin continued, his voice becoming even deadlier, “And that’s my friend yer shootin’ at.”

Nick couldn’t believe what was taking place. These men were fighting for him? They were going to risk their lives... for him? No one’s ever done that before...

Kevin watched Branson. Howie, AJ, and Brian watched Kevin, waiting for the signal. Kevin waited as Branson sat on his horse, which pranced in the nervousness that possessed its rider. Then Kevin saw it, the decision in Branson’s face.

Kevin nodded his head slightly. Howie ducked back into the alley, Brian ducked into the saloon, and AJ readied his rifle.

Kevin drew his guns as Branson bellowed, “Kill ‘em!”

Gunfire once again erupted in the small town. Kevin fired as he side stepped to cover, bullets kicking up dust at his feet. He settled behind a wagon.

Howie stayed flat against the alley wall, ducking around to fire off a shot. One of the gang fell. Seven to go.

AJ sat on the saloon roof, leaning his arms on the ledge to steady his aim. He shut one eye and focused the other one down the sight, picking a target. AJ pulled the trigger, the force kicking into his shoulder. Another man fell from his horse. Six to go.

Brian took a match and struck it, lighting his cigar. He nodded pleasantly at the patrons all huddled beneath chairs and tables, then he grabbed the half full bottle of whiskey and pulled out his silk handkerchief. He doused the white cloth in the alcohol and then stuffed half of it in the bottle, puffing on his cigar all the while.

Finished, Brian glanced over the bat-wing doors, pulling back as a bullet licked at the wood. He looked across at Kevin, watching as he picked off one of he gang. Five to go.

Kevin looked to the saloon and nodded to the gambler. It’s time to end this.

Brian smiled devilishly and lunged out of the saloon, hitting the dirt behind a water trough. Bullets continued to fly as he stood from his cover, taking his cigar from his mouth.

“Oh, gentlemen!”

Branson and his men stopped, facing he gambler. Brian smiled and touched the cigar to the handkerchief, sparking it to life. Brian cocked his arm back, “These liquid spirits are on me, gentlemen!”

Brian threw the flaming bottle of whiskey. Branson and his remaining men pulled their horses back and around as the bottle hit the ground, exploding in a fairly big display. Their horses spooked and with a final glare at the men and the crates, Branson wheeled his horse around and hightailed it out of town, his five remaining men following in a cloud of dust.

The flames quickly diminished on the dusty, dry ground as three men emerged from their cover. AJ soon appeared beside Brian by the saloon, “Ya got a good arm, Bri’.”

Brian grimaced, rotating his shoulder, “I think I pulled something.”

AJ laughed, clapping the gambler on the back. “You did good, Bri. Ya scared ‘em shitless.”

“Thank you,” replied Brian, straightening out his coat and dusting off his sleeves.

Kevin and Howie soon joined them. Kevin looked at AJ, “Where’s the kid?”

AJ got a look of ‘Oh, shit!’ on his face. “Last I saw him, he was by those crates in front of the mercantile.”

They quickly went to where AJ said, hoping to find Nick in one piece. They stopped before the crates, looking down at Nick’s form.

Nick smiled half-heartedly, “Hey, guys.”

Howie kneeled before him, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” sighed Nick, getting a hand up from the healer, “Just a little beat up.”

“You sure,” pressed Howie.

“I’m sure,” answered Nick.

Kevin looked over the drifter, taking in the small spots of blood on the side of his face from the splinters. He growled in anger and spun away from the others, walking to the downed gang members of Branson’s. Kevin walked by each one, searching.

Kevin stopped at a groan, he smiled. Kevin kneeled down beside one of the downed men; this one was alive... for now anyways. Kevin gripped the man’s shoulder, “Hey, you! Wake up!”

The man moaned and opened his eyes, “What?” The man was gasping as the life left him.

“What’s yer business with the kid, Nick Carter?” Kevin ground out.

The man reeled at the deadly green eyes, “B-br- branson... h- he’s gettin’ m-money for... for bringin’ the k-kid in... H-has a contract out on ‘im... f-from s-some rich guy... D-dead or a-alive... More money if a-alive...”

Kevin’s lips formed a hard line, “Why?”

The man’s eyes began to glaze over and his words were slurred, “M-money... m-more money...”

“What?” asked Kevin. What the hell did that mean? Kevin could see the man fading away, “Hey! Hey! What’s that mean?”

No answer as the man breathed no more.

Kevin pushed to his feet and walked back to the others. He stared hard at Nick, then the others. In a voice that broached no argument, he said, “We ride out tonight, all of us.”

Brian being he smart ass he was, “Why?”

Kevin glared at him, his green gaze flicking briefly to Nick, “They’ll be back and I’d not want to be here when they do. I’ll fill you guys in when we’re on the trail.”

Kevin turned and walked to the livery. Brian turned to the others, “I guess we’re to be in each other’s company for quite some time, gentlemen.”

Thanks to my beta, Pammy. :)


Chapter 4

Nick’s young face formed a scowl as he watched Kevin stalk to the livery. Who’d he think he was? Since when do I listen to him? Better yet, to anyone? Nick’s sneering blue eyes glanced over the others still standing beside him, trying to fathom what they could possibly want with him. Why are they helping me? IF what they are doin’ is helpin’...

Nick carefully leaned back against the wall of the mercantile, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. He wanted to cross his arms, but he knew it would be a difficult task with his injury, so he settled for hooking his thumbs in his gun belt. He quietly listened as the others spoke.

“I want to know what the hell that just was,” scowled AJ, glaring at Kevin’s back just before he disappeared into the livery. “Since when do we bow to ‘is beck and call?”

Howie shrugged, “He seems to be assumin’ we’ll help. Personally, he’s right.”

AJ’s dark eyes widened slightly, “What?! You mean yer gonna go with ‘im?”

“Yep,” nodded Howie, as if it were obvious.

AJ ducked his head, then looked up at the ex-gunslinger, “Why?”

“He wants our help, why wouldn’t we give it?” asked Howie, his brown eyes hardening as he stared at AJ.

AJ broke the stare, glancing to the ground and then the livery, “Maybe ‘cause there’s a dang good chance we’ll end up dead.”

Howie scoffed, “We could be dead at any time or any place, AJ. Especially with the way we seem to attract trouble. Atleast this way we’re doin’ somethin’ good.”

AJ stayed silent for a few minutes, then he glanced at Nick from beneath the shadow of his hat, “All right, Howie. I’ll do it, but not for ‘im.” AJ nodded his head to the livery.

“Fine,” sighed Howie, then he turned to the unusually silent gambler, “What about you, Brian? Are you comin’?”

Brian shifted his feet, pressing his lips together briefly before answering, “As I said, it seems we’re to be in each other’s company for quite some time. I’ll follow Kevin, whether he wants me to or not. I am all the family he has left.”

Howie smiled, “It’s settled then, we’re all goin’.”

“Excuse me?” asked Nick, the others turning to him, “I never said I’d go. I never asked you guys to help me, I don’t need anyone. You had best jus’ go on and leave me alone. I’ve been gettin’ along fine on my own.”

AJ sighed, pushing his hat up, “Kid, yer dealin’ with some heavy hitters now. Those men, they’re yer classic no good outlaw. You can’t get rid of ‘em on yer own.”

“To hell I can’t,” growled Nick. If he calls me kid one more time...

Now AJ was getting riled, Why the hell won’t he accept any help? “Listen, you were damn near killed just a bit ago, but yer still alive. Why? Because we came and helped you. Why don’t you jus’ accept that yer stuck with us?”

“I didn’t ask for any of this!” yelled Nick, pushing away from the wall and wincing as his side protested the abrupt movement.

“We never said you did,” voiced Howie, trying to calm the blond down. “C’mon Nick, let us help you. Somethin’ is goin’ on here, somethin’ deeper than we know. You’re gonna have ta accept that you can’t do this alone, not this time.”

Nick set his jaw, his teeth grinding together in stubborn resolve.

“Nick,” drawled Brian, “I know you don’t trust us, but you must endeavor to try. I believe we will need each other’s trust in order to achieve anything in this situation.” Brian reached out a hand, “Trust me, Nick. I will not let you down.”

Nick stared openly from the outstretched hand to the gambler, surprised at the sincerity not only in Brian’s voice, but on his face. Nick frowned. Trust? Trust Brian? And the others? Nick looked from face to face, uncertainty clearly visible on his tanned face. The last time I did that... But that was different, wasn’t it? Nick blinked at the offered hand, then he hesitantly brought his own hand forward. His clear blue eyes flitted to each of their faces as he grasped Brian’s hand, the gambler smiling brightly and shaking it firmly.

“You will not regret this, Nick,” promised Brian, “You are doing the right thing.”

“I hope yer right, Brian,” said Nick softly, staring at their clasped hands before releasing the grip, “I hope yer right.”

AJ looked back and forth between the two then straightened, “Well!” AJ pulled his hat low over his face, turning toward the livery, “Enough chit chat, let’s get our butts goin’!”

Howie chuckled, “Yer the one that started this.”

AJ spun around and opened his mouth, then closed it. He smiled and shrugged, turning without a word and walking to the livery. Howie shook his head, then turned to Nick and Brian, “I’ll meet you guys in a bit, I have to go pick some things up from my place.”

Brian nodded and watched the healer go, then he turned to Nick, “Are you going to be capable to ride?”

“Yeah, I think so,” answered Nick, pressing a hand to his side gently, “It’s really just an ache now.”

“Good,” smiled Brian, turning to head to the livery, “Because I sure as hell was not going to procure your steed.”

Nick couldn’t help but smile, “Wha’cha mean? Journey is the perfect gentlemen.”

Brian stopped in his tracks, “G- gentlemen? I think not!”

“Sure he is,” stated Nick, “It only happens when I’m around, though. He doesn’t trust anybody or anything.”

“Hmm,” smirked Brian, glancing at Nick, “I wonder where he gets it from?”

“Hey!”

~/~/~( outside of town, within the cover of a grouping of trees )~~~

Branson sneered as he looked over what remained of his men, only five remained of nine. He couldn’t believe that they had gotten the drop on him; he thought they were just after one kid, not a kid and four gunslingers, one of which just happened to be Kevin Richardson. Damn, that complicates things.

“Hey, Branson,” called Mac, walking up to stand beside his boss, “What now?”

Branson’s eyes narrowed and stared at the town in the distance, a smile turning his lips as five figures on horseback formed in the diminishing light, walking away from the town. He turned to Mac, “We follow ‘em.”

~/~/~( )~~~

Brian twisted slightly in his saddle to stretch his back, grimacing. He glanced above to the starry sky and shivered. It was getting cold and late, they should have stopped hours ago. They were now a good eighteen miles out of town and needed to stop for the night, for sleep and safety. With a deep breath, Brian nudged Joker into a trot and rode up to Kevin’s side in the lead of their line. Kevin didn’t look at Brian, keeping his eyes on the ground ahead.

Brian cleared his throat, “Kevin, do you not think it wise to cease our travels for the evening? One must obtain rest and the terrain is almost invisible to our eyes.”

Kevin frowned, blinked, then looked at the gambler as if seeing him for the first time, “Huh? ... Oh, yeah... Let’s stop fer the night.”

Kevin stopped and dismounted, Brian watched with a perplexed expression. He glanced back to the others and only caught the healer’s eyes as the other two also dismounted. Howie had a worried look on his face as he glanced at Kevin. Brian wasn’t sure if it was worry for the gunslinger or for their own safety if Kevin remained distant.

They soon built a fire and were gathered around it, silent save for the crackling wood. Howie discreetly kept his brown eyes on the dark gunslinger, watching as the firelight danced in the green eyes that were now filled with an anguished pain. The hardened features were set, jaw clenched. Howie decided it was wise to keep a wide berth from Kevin’s reach this night, as demons from the past have obviously taken hold of his mind.

Howie switched his gaze to Nick, who kept off to the side somewhat. Howie sighed, seeing the reproach and suspicion again in the narrowed blue eyes. It would be a chore to win the trust they needed from the rebel, although Brian seemed to be able to get the young man to let his guard down. Howie smiled, he thought it ironic that Nick would trust a gambler/con man and still hold such high wariness of himself and the others.

“So,” AJ spoke up, his eyes on Kevin, “Where’re we headed?”

Kevin pulled his gaze from the fire and to the sharpshooter, his voice devoid of emotion when he spoke, “Cripple Creek.”

Brian raised an eyebrow, “Why that particular municipality?”

Kevin scowled, “Seems a good place ta start, plenty of dealin’ and low down scum there. Never know, someone there might know of somethin’. We wouldn’a found anything out back at Penrose.”

Brian tilted his head, genuinely surprised, “So, that sorry excuse for a metropolis indeed has a title to identify its existence.”

“Kevin,” Howie broke in, gaining the man’s attention, “You still haven’t said what you learned from that outlaw.”

Kevin sighed, his hard eyes focussing on Nick’s form at the edge of the fire, “Seems someone’s got a contract out on Kaos, dead or alive. Get more money if’n ‘e’s alive.”

Nick’s head shot up and he stared at Kevin, his mouth open slightly and disbelief coloring his features. Nick didn’t know what took him for a loop more, the contract out on his hide or that Kevin had referred to him as Kaos.

Kevin pressed his lips into a firm line, then frowned at the young blond, “You are in a hell of a pinch, Kaos. Branson is on yer tail and he’s a high profile outlaw fer hire, I know ‘cause I’ve been tryin’ to track his sorry ass down fer nine years.”

“Son of a bitch!” hollered AJ, just registering Kevin’s words. He pinned Nick with wide eyes, “Who the hell has it in for ya, kid?!”

“Will you quit with the damned kid thing already?!” returned Nick, his shock dissipated and anger clouding his face, “I ain’t no snot-nosed kid!”

AJ’s face fell into a scowl, “I’ll call ya whatever I damn well like, Kaos.”

Nick fairly snarled and made to get to his feet, the threat clear on his young face. A firm hand on his shoulder stopped him and he turned his flashing eyes to see the healer, a patient expression on the Spaniard’s face.

“Let it go, Nick,” placated Howie, his eyes soft in the low light. “We don’t need to be fightin’ now, lest of all you. You pull dem stitches and you’ll answer to me, got it?”

Nick stared at Howie, then he shrugged the hand off and settled back down. He did not lessen his glare at the tracker, though.

Brian studied Nick with a practiced eye, “Who would place a contract out on you, Nick?”

Nick broke his eyes away from AJ, looking to the gambler. Nick shook his head in defeat, raising a hand to remove his black hat and rub his hair, then replaced the headgear with a sigh, “Hell, I haven’t the notion why I’d have a contract out on me. I ain’t important enough ta be of such a big hog-wash of attention.”

“Well,” sneered AJ, still stung, “someone sure as hell tends ta differ wit’ ya. Hell, they’ve damn near gotten a hold of ya twice already. Ya must ‘ave one big assed bag o’ money hanging over yer head to get so much dedication to the hit.”

“Well, I don’t know why!” returned Nick, continuing his next words before thinking them through, “I’m just a damned kid!”

Nick snapped his mouth shut and mentally cursed himself, closing his eyes at the expression he knew to be gracing AJ’s face.

AJ smiled so wide Brian thought the man’s face would split, “Just a damned kid, eh?” AJ laughed, grabbing his hat and slapping it to his chest, “Lordy be, if that just ain’t the corker right there.”

Nick glared at AJ, “Oh... Just shut up, AJ!”

AJ just laughed harder, causing a ghost of a smile to turn the corners of Nick’s lips before disappearing into the familiar sneer. Kevin noticed this and shook his head, wondering how long it would be before Nick saw them for what they were, friends and not enemies.

Kevin’s demanding voice brought them back to the problem at hand, “Kaos, you have no idea who would want you? You haven’t any enemies to take their revenge?”

Nick frowned, “No, none that would go this far or have the money to do it. I’ll admit I’ve left a few places quicker than I came into them, but I did nothin’ to warrant this contract on my head. Like I said, I ain’t important enough fer somethin’ like that.”

“Well, apparently, someone out dere thinks you are,” toned Howie softly, “What are we gonna do?”

Kevin shook his head, “We’ll ask around at Cripple Creek, there has ta be somethin’ we can turn up.”

“Perhaps we may procure some information from the locals over a friendly game of chance,” smirked Brian, deftly flipping a deck of cards from his navy coat, “I have been known to gather more than just the valuable greenback at my nightly pursuits.”

This managed to pull a smile from the gunslinger, “Perhaps.”

Nick sat back in disbelief, staring openly at the men before him who were discussing how to help him out of his current situation without the slightest request on his part. They were prepared to set out and do all it took to help Nick and it took the young rebel aback in wonder. Nick blinked and focussed back in on the four as they broke out laughing.

“I swear!” Hollered AJ through his own laughter, “On my sainted mother’s grave, it’s true!”

They laugh harder, but come abruptly silent at the stark voice of their young charge.

“Why are you doin’ this?”

AJ blinked at Nick, “Huh? Doin’ what?”

Nick swallowed, looking at each of them in turn, “Helpin’ me. Why are you helpin’ me? You don’t even know me... why?”

They glanced at each other, Howie shrugged, “Why not? You’re in trouble and we can help. Hell, we got nothin’ better to do. We got the resources to help ya and those guys after ya are in longtime need of some ‘justifiable repercussions’. Ain’t that right, Bri’?”

“Most assuredly, Howie,” nodded Brian, flashing one of his blinding smiles. “It would bring me great pleasure to bring those loathsome curmudgeons to justice.”

AJ leaned over and slapped Brian on the back, shaking his head, “Hell, I have a bone ta pick with that Branson fella anyway. He done rubbed me the wrong way, thinks he can get the better of ole AJ McLean... Huh, he’s got another thing comin’.”

Kevin’s face darkened, his eyes flashing in the fire’s glow, “Branson is mine.”

That lone statement spoke all that needed to be said. AJ leaned back slightly and nodded, acknowledging the information. AJ turned back to Nick and smiled, “Ya see, kid? Yer stuck with us.”

Nick frowned at the ‘kid’ moniker, but kept his mouth shut as he had asked for it earlier. Nick looked at each of them, slowly nodding his head in acceptance as a smile gradually took purchase of his lips. Stuck with them, eh?... Now, why does that make me feel... so... right? ...fulfilled? Nick took in a slow breath as his vibrant blue eyes took in their supportive and genuine faces, his own features relaxed in the fire’s light as he exhaled the cool air in a sigh of gratitude, “Thanks.” Nick was surprised at himself, he meant it.

“Aw,” guffawed AJ, smirking at Nick, “Nothin’ to be thankin’ us fer, we’re glad ta be of help.” AJ paused, looking around the group, “I just have one question...”

Nick looked up at him, a sandy eyebrow quirked, “What?”

The hawk-like eyes twinkled in mirth, “What the hell is a ‘curmudgeon’?!”

Even Nick couldn’t stop the laughter that burst forth, laughing along with the other four men, Brian shaking his head in defeat. Nick fairly wiped tears from the corners of his eyes, not having actually laughed in a long time. Even as he managed to catch his breath, he couldn’t help but repeat the question in his mind. What is a curmudgeon?

~/~/~( )~~~

Nick awoke abruptly to a force striking his right leg and he instinctively drew his Colt, his heavy eyelids flew open and then quickly squinted shut at the sudden intrusion of light as a yell rang in his ears and the feeling of being restrained caused him to panic.

“Hey!... Hey!!” Yelled a somewhat familiar voice, “Take ‘er easy, kid! It’s jus’ me! AJ!”

Nick lessened his struggles, the hands holding him to the ground relaxing their grip. The sleepy blue eyes squinted and blinked up at the sharpshooter, who kneeled beside Nick huffing and puffing.

“Damn, kid,” panted AJ, “Ya ain’t a mornin’ person, are ya?”

Nick let out a groan and moved an arm to support his injured side as it burned with the abrupt movements forced upon it, the slight pain only felt after the adrenaline left the blond’s bloodstream. Eyes now somewhat adjusted to the light, Nick fixed AJ with a sarcastic glare, pushing himself into a half reclining position on one elbow, “AJ, how on this green earth did ya ever figure that out? You a damned gypsy or somethin’?”

AJ scowled, “Well, good mornin’ ta you, too.” AJ tilted his head at the young rebel, watching as he sat up fully and rubbed a hand tiredly through his short cropped blond hair, “Ya know, ya damn near shot me with that Colt o’ yers. You always this jumpy in the mornin’s?”

Nick gave AJ a tired look, pressing his hat onto his head, “When someone comes and kicks me in the leg? Yeah.”

“Ya gotta relax, kid,” advised AJ, pushing to his feet, “You’ll end up shootin’ ‘fore yer awake and kill yer horse or some innocent passerby.”

Nick rolled his eyes and forced himself up with a strained reply between clenched teeth, “Thank you, o’ wise one, fer those invaluable words of wisdom. How shall I ever be able to redeem myself to yer more superior self?”

“Christ,” replied AJ, surprise on his face, “Yer just all sunshine and everythin’ nice in da mornin’, aren’t ya?”

“Better get used to it,” smiled Nick as he holstered his Colt, a smile that made AJ’s gut turn over, “And as a side note, Journey knows better’n to bother me in the mornin’s. He’s got brains.”

Nick then turned away and walked to the horses, where the others were packing up and discreetly observing the two in hidden amusement. AJ just stared at Nick’s retreating back and muttered under his breath, throwing a hand out in conversation to no one.

Kevin shook his head and momentarily leaned on his black stallion, Blaze, who snorted with a toss of his fine head to the approaching Nick. Kevin sighed and nodded his head in agreement with his horse, “Yeah, Blaze, I’ve got one hell of a mess to clean up, but I’m in this to get Branson, Kaos jus’ happens ta be the thing I need to achieve that.”

Brian, just on the other side of his horse, Joker, who was along side the black, paused in his task of tightening the cinch of his saddle. The gambler gazed over the seat of his saddle to Kevin’s bent head on the other side of Blaze, the corners of his eyes crinkling in emotion. Brian looked a moment longer at his cousin before resuming his task, a sadness deepening the shade of his jeweled blue eyes.

Howie finished tacking up Mayhem and walked up to Nick, who was just finishing up with Journey. Howie watched as the bay stallion eyed him, the equine glare diminishing at the reassuring touch of his man.

“What do you want, Howie?” asked Nick, having calmed Journey from acting out against the healer.

“I jus’ wanna give ya a once over ‘fore we get movin’ again,” Howie replied, stepping closer to the blond to get a better look at his face. “How ya feelin’? Yer side hurtin’ any? Got any headache ‘r fever?”

Nick shook his head, “Nah, I’m fine. Hardly notice it at’all.”

Howie’s eyes narrowed skeptically, “You sure?”

Nick sighed in frustration, “Yeah, Howie, I’m right as rain.”

Howie pressed his lips together, giving the young man a curt nod. Nick thought the conversation finished and resumed fastening his saddlebags to the back of his saddle, but the healer wasn’t quite done.

“Soon as yer done there, you come over and I’ll set to re-wrapping that dressin’. Should give it a patch of cleanin’, too. Ya don’t wanna get it infected out on the trail.” Then Howie turned and walked back to his mare, a grin on his lips as Nick stood stock still, his arms frozen in their task of tying off the leather. Nick then let out a loud, frustrated sigh, abruptly leaning his weight into the side of Journey, burying his head in his arms.

Brian witnessed this and looked to Howie as he stopped along side Mayhem and Joker, “What did you say to him?”

Howie grinned as he caressed Mahem’s soft muzzle, “Jus’ that I’s got ta see to his wound ‘fore we get movin’.”

Brian grimaced in sympathy for the young blond, knowing the procedure Howie spoke of was not pleasant. Brian’s gaze traveled to Kevin as he dowsed out their camp and finished cleaning up, AJ nowhere in sight. The gambler’s features fell at the remembered overheard words from the dark gunslinger, his expression holding the question of ‘why?’ as he observed the only real family he had left. A glance to Nick as he reluctantly approached Howie caused his gut to clench and chest to tighten. Brian frowned, not understanding why he felt betrayed by Kevin, who was of blood relation, and heartened to Nick, who was of no consequence to him.

Brian kicked at the dirt in ire, cursing under his breath. Kevin was playing the kid out and that was the worst thing that could be done to Nick. Here Brian had promised a bond of trust between them and his very own blood was screwing the kid over. Where should his loyalty lie? With his only family or with his new found companion... or dare he say... friend.

Brian started at a muffled gasp of pain, his blue eyes flitting to Nick and Howie. Nick stood with his gray shirt open, leaning against Mayhem for support as the healer swathed his stitched wounds with alcohol. Nick’s face was pale and pinched, eyes clenched and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Brian abruptly turned away and busied himself with Joker, who regarded his man with concern, accepting the attention and behaving for the time being. Brian didn’t like having this choice befall on his shoulders. He was a gambler, a con man, a cheat to the many losers... Why should he care? He forced himself to remember the rule of one, as in his one and only self. No one else mattered and then the complications of outside life eased. With a firm and well placed poker face, Brian faced the new day, turning away from Nick and Kevin as he mounted Joker and waited for departure.

~/~/~( )~~~

AJ studied his surroundings as he sat astride his white horse, Ghost, pausing a moment to glance back at the camp in the far distance. He noticed they were about ready to move out and decided he had better make this quick. He kept Ghost to a walk and trained his dark eyes to the dusty ground, searching for anything suspicious.

“Hello,” toned AJ’s soft rasp, his hands pulling Ghost to a halt, “What do we ‘ave here?” His eyes narrowed as he studied the ground before him, soon swinging off his mare and squatting down to look closer. A tell tale crescent shaped dimple impression on the soft ground, the most prominent of the multiple, almost identical ones around it and leading off into the distance.

AJ tilted his head up, scanning the landscape. Scattered groupings of trees to his left, slight rock formations to his right. AJ frowned, then stood and pulled his rifle from his saddle. He hefted the sight of the high-powered scope to his eye and scanned the rocks, then the trees. He paused at the trees, scowling before dropping the rifle away and placing it back to its rightful place.

AJ glared to the trees and then made a point to glare to the rocks, lastly the camp behind him, making a show of still observing and none the wiser of what he knew for fact. With one final inspection of the tracks at his feet, AJ mounted and turned back to camp in an unhurried trot.

~/~/~( )~~~

“Where the hell is McLean?!” yelled Kevin, grasping the reins of his prancing steed and glaring at the three men present and astride.

Howie shrugged, not the slightest effected by the icy glare, “Haven’t seen ‘im since he scared the bejeezus out of Nick.”

Nick narrowed his eyes, “He didn’t scare me, jus’ caught me off guard.”

Howie smiled and rolled his eyes, “Uh-huh.”

“I wasn’t scared!”

Brian interjected, his Southern drawl catching attention, “I believe I see him approaching from the south, gentlemen.”

Kevin turned his crackling gaze to the said direction, the buckskin clad man approaching in an unhurried trot. Kevin swung into the saddle, Blaze half rearing in the felt and transmitted agitation of his rider. Kevin’s gaze of hardened malice pinned the sharpshooter down as he came to a halt before them.

“Where the hell did you take off to?!” Kevin cut to the quick, and so did AJ.

“We got company, they been shadowin’ us.”

Thanks to my beta, Pammy.


~/~/~( Chapter 5 )~~~


“Damn,” muttered Howie, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

Kevin looked skeptical, “How you figure?”

AJ leaned lazily on his saddle horn, “Found horse tracks ‘bout a half mile back, not ours. Scoped some movement from the trees, too.”

Kevin frowned, fixing his stare to the beyond trees. Brian looked to him to gauge a reaction, finding it in the cold green eyes. The gambler straightened in his saddle, his words rushing out, “Perhaps being oblivious is our best course of action. They have not confronted us, as they could have in our sleep. If we ignore them, they may heed the idea of lying in wait.”

AJ nodded, “No sense headin’ in’ere full tilt with guns a blazin’ not knowin’ what we’ll meet in return. They’re waitin’ fer somethin’, can’t figure what.”

Pro’bly for me to be alone, thought Nick, his eyes nervous. He looked to the others, for once in his life, actually wanting the guidance of another.

Kevin clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes in hate, “I don’t like it, I jus’ don’t like it.”

“Kevin,” spoke Howie, seeing the hate and anger not from Kevin himself, but from his horse that danced in jaunty steps, “We can’t do anything without gettin’ shot up. They’re in hiding, we wouldn’t know where to shoot first, they’d pick us off one by one... You have to put it aside.”

Kevin snapped his gaze to the healer, “What?”

Howie didn’t back down, “Put it aside, Kev. You’ll get yer revenge later, we can’t bother with it now. If you insist on goin’ in half-cocked, yer goin’ without me. It ain’t worth it.”

The fire flashed in Kevin’s eyes, which switched to the sharpshooter as he too spoke, “That goes fer me too, cowboy. They ain’t a lookin’ fer a fight yet, no use startin’ one ‘fore it’s time.”

Kevin frowned, his brow furrowing at the response he was receiving. He looked slightly surprised as the gambler spoke next.

“You know I will follow you anywhere, Kevin,” drawled the southerner softly, “But I am not benighted to a fruitless endeavor when one is placed in front of me, especially when such an explicit alternative is laid before me. I will match the aforementioned reasoning; I will not lay my life down for your mindless vengeance.”

Kevin blinked, staring openly at Brian as he finished his narrative. A very slow, very gradual smile turned Kevin’s lips, “Damn, Brian. Why the hell didn’t ya jus’ say you agree with Howie and AJ?”

Brian smiled wolfishly, his blue eyes twinkling in the morning’s light, “I did.”

Kevin shook his head, “Fine, fine. Let’s go.” He turned to AJ, “Keep an eye on our rear, make sure they don’t forget that they ain’t in the fightin’ mood.”

AJ simply nodded with a cocky grin, as if he knew of this the whole time. Kevin sneered, still a bit contrite when it came to the tracker. He sighed, “Well, let’s move out. We’re only a few miles out of Cripple Creek, should get there ‘fore noon.”

Nick was slow to react as the others began to move out, eventually gathering himself and joining them in a slow canter. He ended up riding along side Howie and took the time to think. He had thought for sure that they were about to run into a blood bath, the fire in Kevin’s eyes had frozen him to his saddle. Nick had never seen such hatred... Wait, yes he had. He cringed, his eyes squinting at the unwanted memory.

Nick pulled himself back to the present at Howie’s voice of concern, having mistaken his discomfort for his bullet wound acting up. Nick shook his head at the kind man, assuring him it was nothing. Turning his eyes to the ground they sped along, Nick decided he had to stick close to these men, reality finally baring down on him and forcing him to realize the extent of trouble his butt was in. He wouldn’t live to see his next birthday if he abandoned the safety of the group, he couldn’t pull this one off alone. This one was big.

Brian glanced over his shoulder, back at where Nick and Howie rode. He frowned. He had yet to decide where he would lay his allegiance. He realized he was pulled equally in both directions. Turning forward, Brian raised a hand to secure his black hat more firmly to his head as the wind made it shift, darting his tongue out over his bottom lip nervously. Kevin was his cousin, Nick was a... friend. How could he choose? Kevin would most definitely shun him away if he told the blond rebel of his underhanded purpose in this charade. Nick would... well, Nick would be mad... very mad, when he found out. He was beginning to trust them, Brian could tell by his eyes.

Brian sighed and flexed his arms out, the action urging Joker faster. Then there was his third choice, himself. Simply act like nothing happened, not care. This would have probably been the easiest choice, if he hadn’t spent so much time and gotten to know these men. They’ve only been together for a few days, but he could feel the sense of belonging deep inside. He thought it was Kevin that had filled his loneliness, but he realized it included the other three, too. He found he felt relaxed and content while in their company, not his usual suspicion and deflective mannerisms. Brian shook his head, this was confusing the hell out of him.

AJ glanced back, twisting around in his saddle as Ghost kept pace with the four running steeds ahead. AJ narrowed his eyes, catching the smallest flash of sunlight far behind in the bordering trees. They were still shadowing, keeping to the trees about two miles back. Returning his eyes affront, AJ gazed at the dust covered backs of the four men riding ahead. Well, three men, one kid. Nick was too young to be what he was and witness all he had. AJ didn’t care how tough the kid tried to be, he could see the shrouded fear huddled in the shadows of the rebel’s blue eyes. The kid tried to cover it up with his tough, sneering exterior, but slipped up every so often when he thought no one was looking. AJ conceded that he wasn’t much older, being 20, only a sparse three years older, but his past more than made up for it. AJ hadn’t had a choice when he had set out into the wilderness, alone. He had no family, no friends.

AJ shook his head, glancing back again. Satisfied the outlaws were keeping their distance, he contemplated where he stood. Thinking on it, AJ was surprised to find that he couldn’t think of anything but the men that rode ahead of him. He felt as if he had found something he had lost long ago, something he had tucked away until the right components arrived to reciprocate the hidden object. Friendship... Family? Wait, the last one was too much right now. Friendship seemed fitting. AJ smiled, his unique goatee framing his curved lips. He liked the feeling.

Howie again took a surreptitious glance at the young man beside him. He knew it wasn’t his wound that had caused the discomfort on the tanned young features, although he was positive the injury was not oblivious to him either. Nick seemed to be leaning toward their help a bit easier, the majority of his suspicious countenance having faded, leaving a younger looking face with glimpses of actual emotion. Furrowing his brow, Howie tilted his head at a thought. What had happened in Nick’s young life to force him out into this harsh environment, to force him away from his home? Howie could tell the rebel had not been in this location for more than a few years, even though he had adapted amazingly well. Nick was not of the material he tried to portray. Howie wondered of the young man’s past.

With a shake of his head, Howie broke from that path of thought, it was none of his business. Nick was here now and he seemed determined to stay. A grin appeared on the healer’s face, what a lot they made up. The pissed off gunslinger, a cocky rebel, an even more cocky wilderness man, ...Whatever the hell Brian was, a con man... gambler... don’t know when the hell to shut up southerner... and himself, a retired gunslinger turned helper of the people. Well, he sure ain’t acting like he’s retired now. The smile slipped slightly at that thought, his brown eyes fixing on the silhouette of Kevin. Howie knew of the road Kevin traveled, knew it would end the same as his did. Howie could only hope the bond he felt forming between them would be enough to stop Kevin before he destroyed himself all for his worthless revenge.

Kevin sat brooding astride his running horse, silently cursing and seething in anger at being so close, yet so far. Branson. The man that killed his father was no more than a couple miles back, following him for Christ’s sake! To Kevin the man was practically asking for it. Branson had registered who Kevin was back at Penrose, at the announcement of his name the outlaw basically went white. Kevin smiled wickedly; the thought of Branson being afraid of him was quite pleasing. Kevin had waited and searched for so long, nine years of a mindless quest. Kevin wanted it to be done with. He wanted his pain to go away, to finally leave his shattered heart. It would happen, it would finally come about. But... at what cost?

Sadness darkened the green eyes, the tense posture slumping slightly. Kevin didn’t like what he was doing to Kaos... Koas... That was the only way Kevin could refer to the young blond. It helped to distance himself from what the consequences of his actions would be, and he knew they would be grave. He wouldn’t let the rebel get hurt, though, never. For all that Kevin tried to do or say, he couldn’t stop the four men from working their way under his protective wing, the camaraderie, the friendship, an almost family bond making itself known in such a short amount of time. All of which he desperately wanted to avoid, but wouldn’t ignore. He would protect the four men that rode behind him with his life, for that he was sure. He would give them his life, but not his soul, it had already lost too much.

~/~/~( Two miles back )~~~

“Put that damned thing away!” scolded Branson, knocking Mac upside the head, the red head’s hat tumbling to the ground.

“Hey!” the youth retaliated, snatching his hat back up, “What the hell was that for?!”

Branson slapped a hand to the metal object in Mac’s hand, “You keep monkeyin’ around with that and you’ll give us away!”

Mac frowned, looking down at the scope, “Huh?”

Branson sighed, trying to be patient, “That there lookin’ glass is a real nice shiny thing, ain’t it?” Mac nodded. “Well, the sun sure is glittin’ off’a it like crazy. Get the meanin’?”

Mac looked puzzled for a moment longer, then the light went on, “Oh! I get it! Sorry, didn’t mean it.”

Branson shook his head, mounting his horse, “You still got a lot to learn, Mac. C’mon, let’s get movin’ after them, they’re gettin’ too far off.”

With a nod, Mac headed to his horse and mounted, the others in the small outlaw band shakin’ their heads at him. Mac ignored them; he knew he could do this outlaw thing. He had to, there was nothing else out there for him. Branson had given him the chance and also a sort of home, he couldn’t let the man down.

Branson faced his men, “All right, it’s obvious they’re headin’ ta Cripple Creek, so we don’t have to pay them too much attention, we’re only two miles back from the town anyways. Come to think of it, they ought to be ridin’ in now. We ain’t gonna go inta town, but we will sneak around a bit to try and figure what their business is. Les and Kyle,” addressed Branson, getting the attention of a tall, lanky blond man and a burly black haired man with a slight beard. “I want you two ta stick ta the saloon and blend in with the locals, don’t make any trouble, though. Understand?”

“Yeah, boss,” nodded Les, his big frame shifting in his saddle as he reached to scratch his bearded chin.

“Okay, then,” said Branson, thinking for a moment, “All eyes stay on that kid, the moment he’s alone we nab ‘im. We don’t need no more trouble.”

His men all agreed in vigor, the confrontation in Penrose fresh in their minds.

“Let’s move on out then,” called Branson as he turned his horse about, “And a piece of advice, keep track o’ that Kevin Richardson. He’s a hell raiser if given the chance. I’ve got my own plans for ‘im.”

The outlaws nodded in acknowledgment and followed their leader as he started off toward Cripple Creek at a gallop.

~/~/~( Cripple Creek )~~~

Five horses slid to a halt at the Cripple Creek livery, the passengers of the steeds dismounting and proceeding to shelter their horses in the large barn. Twenty minutes later the five men exited the large doors, the fancy one flipping some coins to the two young stable boys.

“You take exceptional care of our animals, gentlemen,” drawled the southern tone, “And there will be more where that came from.”

The young boys grinned happily and nodded their heads in acceptance of the task, the older of the two speaking, “Thanks, mister! We’ll take good care of ‘em!”

Brian watched with a smile as they practically skipped away. Turning, Brian cleared his throat at the looks his four companions gave him, “What, may I ask, are you staring at?”

AJ cracked a grin, “Aw, the fancy man has a soft spot!” He turned to Howie, who stood smiling, “What you figure it’s for? The kids or the horses?”

Howie looked to think seriously for a moment, “I reckon it’s the horses.”

AJ laughed, “Yep! That’s what I figured!”

Brian simply stood there and rolled his eyes, sending Kevin and Nick a pleading expression, “Please, save me from these unrelenting reprobates before I sink to their despicable and underlying level.”

AJ stopped laughing, sending Howie a shocked look, “He jus’ insulted us, Howie!... ...I think.”

Brian could only sigh and roll his eyes once again, muttering under his breath, “Hopeless, absolutely hopeless cases of stupidity. Never seen such stark examples before...”

AJ just sent Brian’s muttering form a quizzical look, eyebrows raised, “Brian’s ventin’ his frustrations.”

Nick gave AJ an incredulous look, “Ventin’? Yer callin’ that ventin’?”

AJ shrugged, “What else?”

Kevin looked up to the noon sun, taking a deep, calming breath, “All right, enough funny business. We got work ta do.”

The four sobered and finally took the time to take in the town before them. The street was filled with drunk and not to mention, gun happy cowboys. Several were randomly shooting up into the sky as they weaved back and forth down the street, others were galloping around on their horses and shooting at imaginary specters, whooping and hollering. The guys could see the locals huddled in their respective businesses, afraid to venture out.

AJ cracked another cocky grin and slapped Kevin on the back, “Looks like yer kind o’ place, Kev!”

AJ shrank back with a wince at the glare he received, “Then again, maybe not.”

They walked down the dusty street, covertly avoiding the inebriated cowpokes. They stopped outside one of the saloons, Brian addressing Kevin with a nervous glance at the disarray surrounding them, “You sure can pick them, Kevin. I gather you have been here before?” Kevin smirked with a nod. “Perhaps you may reconsider the proposal of investigating this... town?”

Kevin shook his head, “Nope.”

Brian looked to the others, hoping for assistance. Howie seemed to be just fine with the situation. AJ looked excited, and for some reason, this scared the gambler. Nick seemed to almost be familiar with the turmoil around them. Brian surmised that this was not Nick’s first visit to a municipality such as the one he now stood in. Finding no support, Brian sighed, “How about a small change of plans then? That being my sojourn into that... that contraption of a saloon. It appears rather... unruly.”

As if on cue, the large front window of the aforementioned saloon exploded in front of them, a distinct silhouette of a man being the cause. As the glass settled, Kevin watched with a grin as the man used to create the display picked himself up off the ground, weaving back and forth before stepping through the hole his body had just made and back into the saloon, yelling for another drink. Kevin looked at the aghast Brian, “Don’t look too bad to me.”

Brian blinked and shook his head, “Oh, I do get myself into the most interesting situations.”

Kevin grinned, “Let’s split up. AJ and Howie, you take the northern part of town. Brian, you take the saloon. Nick’s with me, we’ll check out the perimeter.”

“What exactly are we lookin’ for?” asked Nick, more than a little nervous with being alone with the gunslinger.

“Somethin’ out of place, or a cowboy that looks to ‘ave information on the territories but is too damn drunk to know who he’s talkin’ too,” answered AJ, “Stuff like that.”

Nick nodded, “Oh, when do we meet back?”

Kevin looked to the sky again, “Be back here in four hours, about mid afternoon.”

The three groups broke up and went to their designated areas, making sure to avoid the majority of disoriented locals. Brian stood before the saloon, desperately wishing he had kept his mouth shut about gathering information at the tables. He took a deep breath and made to enter the saloon through the battered bat-wing doors. He had just placed his hands on them when they flew open, the hard wood and something else slamming into Brian and sprawling him to the ground.

Brian laid frozen as his mind caught up to the events, slowly registering the drunken cowboy clumsily trying to remove his body from crushing the gambler. With an annoyed scowl, Brian shoved the drunk off and sat up, grabbing his hat from the dusty boardwalk and brushing it off. He gave a grunt as he pushed himself to his feet, glaring into the saloon and to the cowboy who stumbled away.

Running a hand through his wavy, finely cut hair, Brian gave a sigh. He straightened his shoulders and returned his hat to his head, forcing himself through the bat-wing doors and into the foggy saloon, a muttered oath under his breath, “Kevin will pay for this.”

~/~/~( )~~~

Nick studiously kept pace with Kevin, pulling his sarcastic demeanor to the forefront to hide his nervousness. They walked behind the saloon and town mercantile, only seeing the occasional drunk or saloon girl in their own... activities. Nick’s eyes kept tabs on the gunslinger, prepared to follow his lead. He honestly didn’t know what else to do.

Kevin’s steps were purposeful as he strode through the back alleys, his green eyes on constant alert for the slightest clue to a possible lead. His steps slowed up somewhat at a movement that caught his eye, Nick following his example and also slowing.

They stopped. Kevin narrowed his eyes and stared in to the shadows behind one of the town stores, soon turning his attention to Nick beside him, “Wait here for a bit, I wanna check somethin’ out.”

Nick’s eyes widened slightly, “But... shouldn’t we-... I mean, I thought... Um, don’t you think we ought to stay together?”

“It’ll only be a little bit, Kaos,” replied Kevin impatiently, his eyes returning to the shadows. He said his next words almost distractedly, “Why don’t you go and check out the livery, I’ll join ya when I’m done ‘ere.”

Nick narrowed his eyes, glaring at the man that wasn’t even looking at him. Straightening his shoulders, Nick sneered, “Yeah, whatever Kevin. I don’t wanna get in yer way or nothin’.”

Kevin didn’t even seem to hear Nick’s words, only noticing the young man leaving as Nick brushed against him rather roughly, pushing Kevin aside a few steps. Kevin’s eyes flashed, “Watch it, Kaos.”

Nick just kept on walking, alone, to the livery.

Kevin shook his head and dismissed it, turning to what had caught his attention, causing the anger to rise from within to the forefront of his mind. Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

A chuckle came forth from the shadows, a form slowly stepping out of them. Kevin sneered and dropped his hands to his guns.

“Branson,” Kevin bit out through clenched teeth, “Nice of you to show yerself, makes it all the more easier for me.”

Branson smiled as Kevin drew one of his guns, shaking his head, “Kevin Richardson. Ya know, I was wondering when we’d cross paths again. Been wantin’ to finish what I started nine years ago.”

Kevin’s whole image seemed to darken, “So have I. Before I shoot yer ugly face off, I want to know who hired you.”

Branson laughed outright, “Who hired me? For knocking yer dad off or for the kid?”

Kevin snarled, “Both.”

Branson sobered, “Take a moment and think, Richardson. I ain’t gonna tell ya who hired me, even with the threat of you shootin’ me. If’n you shoot me, you can kiss yer young friend good-bye.”

Kevin paused; fear suddenly clutching his heart, “What are you talkin’ about?”

“You have a choice, Richardson,” continued Branson, ignoring the question, “Kill me or save yer friend... that you left alone.”

Kevin felt his breath leave his lungs, “You bastard.”

“True,” nodded Branson, who grinned evilly, “What’s it gonna be, Richardson?”

Kevin scowled and holstered his sidearm, throwing Branson one last parting shot before spinning around, “This ain’t over, Branson. On my father’s grave, it ain’t over.”

Kevin left the smirking outlaw and headed in a dead sprint to the livery.

~/~/~( )~~~

Nick stalked to the livery, berating himself for ever thinking he had found friends that would protect him, help him. Throwing the barn door open, Nick scoffed, “Lotta good it’s done me. Never shoulda believed ‘em.”

As Nick’s eyes finally adjusted to the dark interior, he stepped up to Journey’s stall and placed a hand on the bay’s neck. He sighed, “What’ve I gotten myself into, Journey? Why do I suddenly have a price on my head?”

Journey suddenly snorted, stomping his foot. Nick froze, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. He stared into his horse’s dark eyes and saw the warning and glares to something beyond him. A click came from behind him. Aw, hell...

“All right, kid,” said a low and rough voice, “Turn yerself around slow like and hands out.”

Nick ground his teeth and slowly turned around, his hands away from his guns. Before him were two men, one with a gun trained on him and the other with coils of rope. The one with the gun spoke again.

“Don’t move and ya won’t get hurt,” he growled, stepping toward Nick, “We’re goin’ for a little ride.”

Nick bit his lip, his eyes darting around in search of escape. He could hear Journey’s agitated shuffling and kicking in the stall behind him, knowing his man was in danger. As the armed man stopped a few feet in front of Nick and motioned the one with the rope forward, Nick spied a bucket at his feet, bottom up. Nick looked back at his kidnappers and smiled, which caused them to frown but continue with their business. As the man with the rope took Nick’s hands and pulled them behind his back, Nick slowly inched his foot to the base of the bucket, working his toe beneath the rim. Nick winced as the man behind him roughly tied his hands together. Nick needed a distraction.

Just then the livery doors flew open, slamming into the walls like a crack from a bull whip. The two men were both caught off guard and Nick acted, hooking his foot under the bucket and kicking it up into the air and at the man with the gun. The man turned back at the commotion and cried out in surprise as an object sailed at him from the darkness before him, instinctively firing his gun at the specter before it slammed into him, knocking him to the ground.

As the man fell, Nick threw his body backwards, smashing into the man behind him and hearing him grunt in surprise. Nick looked up and twisted away, falling to the livery’s dusty floor. The man he’d just slammed into the stall made to go after Nick, but paused at two loud clicks. The man slowly turned his head and then straightened, hands out in submission.

Kevin kept a gun trained on each outlaw, daring them to move, “Untie ‘im.”

The man standing went to Nick on the floor and untied his wrists, straightening and looking at Kevin. Nick gingerly pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his wrists.

“Kaos, take the rope and tie ‘em up,” ordered Kevin, his stare unwavering from the two outlaws.

With a scowl, Nick went and picked the other man up and brought him to the other, positioning them around one of the livery’s support poles and firmly tying them to it.

Kevin holstered his guns, turning his gaze to Nick, “You okay?”

Nick glared at the gunslinger, “Fine, no thanks to you.”

Kevin gave an almost imperceptible wince, diverting his attention to the contrite outlaws trussed up to the support beam, “How’d Branson know I’d leave the kid alone?”

The men looked confused, one spoke, “I don’t know what yer talkin’ about, Richardson. We were jus’ supposed to nab the kid if he was ever alone. Branson didn’t know if he would be or not.”

Kevin furrowed his brow as Nick listened with a puzzled expression, “What the hell, Kevin?”

Kevin didn’t answer, lost in his thoughts. Branson said I had left him alone... Left... LEFT! Kevin snapped his head around and to the livery doors, “Aw, crap!”

Nick was getting annoyed, “What?!”

“Shit,” muttered Kevin, finally looking at Nick, “It weren’t you, damn it...”

“Weren’t me what?” asked Nick, getting pissed off even more than he already was at Kevin.

“Branson said he’d be after the friend I’d left alone,” explained Kevin, his voice shaking slightly, “I didn’t leave you, you left me.” Kevin paused, locking eyes with Nick, “It’s Brian. He’s goin’ after Brian.”

Nick’s anger fell away and fear replaced it. He barely acknowledged it as Kevin suddenly burst from the livery and into the street. Nick shook his head and finally snapped out of his stupor, soon out the door and on Kevin’s heels.

~/~/~( )~~~

Brian flashed his brightest grin, laying down his cards, “Full house, gentlemen, Kings over Queens. Can anyone answer that?”

The mumbled grumbles and curses from the three men at his table provided the answer and Brian chuckled, leaning over to gather his winnings, “I truly am sorry, gentlemen. I seem to have found a winning streak.”

“You sure have, pard,” spoke one of his players, shaking his head. “I’m plum near cleaned out.”

“My apologies, sir,” allocated the gambler, “Perhaps your fortune will turn and Lady Luck will smile upon you before this day is spent.”

The man smiled, “I’d sure like that, mister.”

Brian smiled at the man. He was a local rancher of this providence and a kind man. He had no useful information to provide the gambler, but he was good company and a satisfying poker player. Brian’s smile fell as he looked upon his other two players. One was big and burly with a mean countenance about him, the other was lanky framed and blond haired with an almost menacing demeanor. Brian couldn’t get any information from the pair no matter how much he sugar coated his words and subtle questions. Brian was becoming suspicious of their calculating personalities.

The blond one spoke, his voice sneering, “Winning streak, eh? I think you been cheatin’ us.”

Brian stiffened, carefully adjusting his position.

“Now take it easy, Kyle,” sneered the burly, bearded man, “We don’t want no trouble, do we?”

“I don’t give a rat’s butt, Les!” snarled Kyle, “I’m a’tired of waitin’! Let’s get this cheatin’ son of a bitch!”

Brian raised his eyebrows, calmly gazing back and forth between the two. He noticed the rancher had discreetly sidled out of harms way, for which Brian was glad as he didn’t have to worry about him now.

“Well,” grinned Les, staring at Brian with a feral look in his eyes, “When you put it that way...”

Brian felt his heart skip a beat as the two men sprang to their feet, their chairs falling back and to the floor with collective bangs as they both drew their guns.

Brian jumped to his feet and stumbled back, off guard and suddenly finding himself on the wrong side of two guns.

Aw, hell...

Note: Not yet beta read.


~/~/~( Chapter 6 )~~~


Brian’s mind absorbed the scene playing out before him, calculating the possibilities in lightning quickness. Swiftly grasping his advantages, though very sparse, the gambler displayed a look of absolute horror on his handsome face and stared past his adversaries at some unseen spectacle beyond.

“LOOK OUT!” The Southern accent rang through the saloon in dazzling clarity, filled with a clear panic and shrill intensity.

The two men paused in confusion and surprise, the words of warning so convincing they snapped their heads around in search of the unseen danger.

Brian spurred into action as soon as Les’ and Kyle’s heads turned, grasping the edge of the table before him and lifting it with all the strength he could muster. The gambler’s feet were in motion even before the hard wood table, cards and all, slammed into the distracted miscreants, effectively pinning them to the floor.

Brian shoved the drunk patrons aside, desperately trying for the bat-wing doors beyond. The crowded saloon hampered his movements and his breathing quickened at the angry shouts behind him.

“God damn gambler!” Grunts. Cursing. Clattering of wood on wood. Scuffling. “Get off yer duff, Kyle! He’s gettin’ away!”

Brian skidded to a stop, his head whipping from side to side frantically. A tightly packed throng of people blocked his way, the patrons sober enough to notice attempting to flee the suddenly dangerous saloon in panic.

Brian forced his mind to slow down, to process his surroundings. The span of where he was to the doors was blocked by people, the two mad men wanting his keester on a platter were behind him, and to his left side were only scattered tables, abandoned by the townsfolk. That left his right side, the bar.

Brian glanced behind him and saw his two pursuers finally untangling themselves from the table, scrambling to their feet and fixing him in their sights.

“Shit,” the Southerner uncharacteristically swore, noticing as they retrieved their guns and pulled the hammers back with peculiarly loud, metallic clicks in the noisy saloon.

Seizing his only option, Brian scrambled onto the bar counter, almost slipping on the spilled alcohol and knocking glasses to the hard wood floor with loud crashes. Not about to be pinned behind the bar like a sitting duck, Brian remained atop the counter and held his arms out slightly from his body, balancing his stance as he half shuffled, half ran along the smooth yet worn wood surface, his shiny boots knocking into bottles and glasses.

“Hold it right there, ya damn cheat!” hollered one of his enemies from behind. Brian kept going, “Damn it! I said stop!”

Brian’s steps became even more hurried as the glasses at his feet exploded without his touch, being the victims of a bullet. The multiple pings and whistling ricochets spurred Brian on without a glance back, not needing to see behind him to notice the rows of bottles to his right side on the shelves shattering with the impact of bullets.

Seeing the end of the counter ahead, Brian’s attention fixated on what he would do when he got there and didn’t notice as one particular bullet ripped into his left shoulder.

Leaping over a passed out cowboy using the counter as a pillow, Brian spied the window broken earlier as he and the others were outside. Arriving at the end of the table, Brian leapt to the hard planked floor with only a slight stumble and to the broken window, the curses and threats ringing in his ears as well as the continued gunfire.

His breath wheezing in and out of his panicked lungs, Brian threw himself through the open window, his body hitting the planked boardwalk with a grunt, dust billowing up around him as he rolled several times, ending up in the dirt street. Rough hands seized his shoulders and Brian instinctively fought the grip, a panicked cry escaping his lips, “No!”

The hands didn’t leave and he fought on, until a harsh exclamation cracked through his dimmed hearing, “God damn it, Brian! It’s Kevin! Quit yer fightin’!”

Brian abruptly stilled and squinted his clenched eyes open, gazing up at the dark form above him, silhouetted by the blazing sun. “Kev?” Brian croaked out.

“Yeah,” grunted Kevin, grasping the gambler’s arm and hauling him non too gently to his feet.

Brian’s legs gave out at first, but he soon regained control of the trembling limbs. He only took on part of his own weight, content to allow Kevin to support him as he fought to get his frenzied breathing under control.

Kevin tightened his grip on the Southerner, “We gotta get scarce.”

“Where?” asked a slightly shaky voice.

Only then did Brian acknowledge Nick’s presence, wondering absently how he could have missed the obvious detail. Then he realized, he’d shut his eyes again. Opening them, Brian saw the worried features of the rebel, staring from his form to Kevin. Stealing himself, Brian looked up to the face of his cousin. Surprise flashed in his blue eyes at the concern and barely concealed fear spelled out on the rugged features. This puzzled the Southerner.

Kevin glanced down at the gambler and then to the saloon, “Anywhere but ‘ere.”

Just then, two men with guns in hand burst through the crowd fleeing the saloon, looking about in aggression. Kevin swore, “Shit. We gotta go, now.”

Kevin hurriedly dragged Brian the rest of the way across the street, Nick following and watching their back. The blond purposefully moved to walk behind the gambler, blocking the young man from the eyes of the two men. They ducked into a dark alley between the ammo store and supply mercantile, melting into the shadows.

Kevin braced Brian against the building, his eyes darting around in search of further threat. The gunslinger finally let his attention rest on the gasping gambler, “You okay?”

Brian opened his eyes, managing to retain some grip on his breathing and calm his racing heart, “I... believe I am unharmed. Although, I am not one to pertain the status of my person at the present time, as I am not wholly sure what in the sacred book of God just happened.”

Kevin half grinned and quirked a dark eyebrow, sending an amused and relieved glance to Nick, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

Nick looked at Brian in interest, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was quite a sight to see when he and Kevin had approached the saloon. After all, it wasn’t every day you saw a colorful gambler fly out of a window. Nick smirked at the thought, “So,” he asked Brian, “What happened?”

Brian rolled his eyes back and closed them with a deep sigh, “Oh, the usual. Some two-bit low-lifes see fit to inform me of their opinion of my poker playing skills, then decide it in their best interest to effect the personifications they deem justifiable onto my questionable character.” Brian paused, opening his tired blue eyes to look at Nick, “I took it upon myself to avoid the reprehensible engagement by hightailing my fancy ass out of there.”

Nick let out a hail of laughter, not at the danger his new friend had just went through, but at the narration he put to the events. Nick regained his breath and paused in thought, catching how he had just referred to the gambler as a friend in unconscious thought. He smiled to himself, he liked the feeling and agreed with it.

Kevin allowed himself to chuckle slightly, amused despite himself. Then the real reason Brian was in danger surfaced, causing his eyes to narrow, “Brian, that wasn’t a common occurrence. Those men were part of Branson’s gang, they were meant to get at you.”

Brian’s features shifted in surprise and confusion, “After me? Whatever for?”

Kevin let out a long sigh, slamming a hand against the wall by Brian’s head, “I don’t know. Branson singled you out and I don’t God damn know why!”

Brian inwardly winced at the raised voice of his cousin, then visibly winced as a sharp, burning pain, slowly growing more intense with every beat of his heart, emanated from his left shoulder. Brian frowned, then brought his right hand around to his shoulder. He gasped as pain flashed and made his vision waver at his hand’s contact. He vaguely felt a grip on his right shoulder, holding him up as his legs gave out momentarily at the fiery pain.

“Brian?” Kevin’s voice queried, concern clearly heard as his grip tightened on the gambler’s shoulder. “Brian! What’s wrong?”

Brian pulled his hand away from his left shoulder, his jeweled eyes staring at the substance that now covered it, an inky black color in the shadows of the alley. He tore his eyes away and to first Nick, then Kevin, “I believe I was mistaken... in my earlier... well-being.”

Kevin let out a grunt of surprise and effort as Brian fell limp into his arms, the pair sinking to the ground.

“Brian!” shouted Nick, fear making his voice almost tangible as he sank to his knees beside the duo. His young blue eyes sought answers from the gunslinger.

Kevin drew his hand away from Brian’s shoulder and to the forefront of his and Nick’s vision. Kevin pinned Nick with hard eyes, “He’s been shot.”

~/~/~( in the northern part of Cripple Creek )~~~

“AJ, are you sure about this?” Howie asked the sharpshooter, squinting his brown eyes at his surroundings.

“Absolutely,” replied AJ, shifting his feet, his sharp eyes looking off into the distance.

Howie didn’t like this at all and made to point it out to his friend, “I don’t like this, AJ. It’s too dangerous, we could fall to our deaths.”

“Aw,” guffawed AJ, “Nothin’ ta worry about, ‘D.” The sharpshooter used the healer’s nickname in an effort to calm his fears, “I’ve been doin’ this since I was little, nothin’ to it.”

“AJ,” Howie toned, “We’re atop a building’s roof, a good two and a half stories up. This-” Howie broke off as his foot slipped slightly on the slick surface they perched on, he took a deep breath, “This... is NOT nothin’.”

“Jus’ go with it, Howie,” smiled AJ, his dark eyes twinkling, “Yer up here and yer gonna haveta stay up here ‘til I help ya get down.”

“Fine,” sighed Howie, “Let’s do what we came up ‘ere for and then get the hell out of ‘ere.”

AJ laughed and turned his attention back to the town below. He scanned the many people and discerned whether they were what they were lookin’ for or not. His eyes narrowed and his lips turned into a vile smile, he turned to the pale healer, “Time to ‘get the hell out of ‘ere’.”

Howie straightened, “Huh? That quick? Wha’dya see?”

AJ smiled wider, “Let’s get down and then I’ll tell ya.”

With a frown, Howie acquiesced. He carefully turned and began to sidle along the roof and to the edge where the window they used to get up on the roof was. His foot slipped again and he would have fallen if not for AJ grabbing onto his arm. Panting, the healer fixed the tracker with thankful eyes.

AJ shook his head, “That way woulda been quicker, cowboy, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Howie gave him a withering look, “Really, AJ. I never knew that, thanks for the tip.”

“Hey,” defended AJ, “Just tryin’ ta help.”

Howie rolled his eyes, “This was yer idea, it would help that I remember to never listen to you again!”

AJ’s eyes widened, but twinkled with hidden mirth, “Point taken. Let’s get down, I gotta catch a varmint.”

Howie quirked an eyebrow, then shook his head, “I’m not gonna ask.”

Within ten minutes, AJ and Howie got off the roof and walked out into the street. Howie looked around and then to the distracted tracker, “So, what’re we lookin’ for?”

AJ raised a hand, “Wait right here, I’ll be back in a minute. Gotta gets after that varmint.”

Howie gave a sigh and leaned against the support for the store’s overhang, content to wait.

AJ crept behind the store and reappeared down the street, spying his target and closing the distance. He withdrew his Smith and Wessen and stepped up behind his quarry. His face serious, AJ gripped the back of the young man’s neck and jabbed his gun into his side, pulling the hammer back. He felt the shoulders of the man tense as he tried to twist away, then freeze as AJ spoke in a low tone, “I wouldn’t do nothin’, less you want a pound of lead in yer gullet.”

“Wh- what do ya want?” Mac’s voice came out shaky, his adversary not visible as he was behind him.

AJ smiled, “You an’ me are gonna take a stroll.”

Mac forced defiance into his voice, “I ain't goin’ anywhere’s with you.”

AJ chuckled and then jabbed the gun barrel further into the youth’s side, causing the red head to squirm in an attempt to get away, “You ain’t got much of a choice, pard’.”

With that, AJ dragged Mac back around and to the alley adjacent to where Howie leaned against the support. AJ sighed, then hissed, “Howie!... Hey, get over here!... ...Howie!!”

The last call was not a hiss and Howie jumped at the yell, spinning around with his hand on his gun. Seeing the cause of the yell peaking his head around the corner of the store, Howie relaxed. He glanced around and then entered the alley, his eyes widening at sight of Mac in AJ’s grasp.

“What the hell?!” exclaimed the ex-gunslinger, surprised. “Ain’t that one of Branson’s men?”

AJ nodded smartly, “Yep, and he’s gonna be our little helper, ain’t ya?”

Mac, eyes wide in fear, shook his head and pressed his lips together firmly. AJ frowned, “You ain’t gonna be stubborn, now are ya? ‘Cause, well...” AJ made a pointed look at Howie, “Ya see that man there?” Mac looked at Howie and nodded, Howie glanced at AJ in wariness, wondering what the sharpshooter was up to. AJ continued, his voice matter-of-fact, “Well, ya wouldn’t know it ta look at ‘im, but he’s the best knifer this side of the Mississippi. Gots a regular arsenal of the nasty things strapped to his back. Go on, ‘D. Show ‘im.”

With a frown at AJ, Howie shrugged off his brown vest and turned, revealing some ten knives strapped criss-cross to his back. Mac gave a gasp and rethought his battle plan. As Howie replaced his vest, AJ grinned at the young outlaw, “Now, you wanna rethink yer decision and start flappin’ yer mouth? Or is D’ gonna haveta demonstrate those unique talents o’ his.”

Mac flicked his eyes from AJ to Howie and back again, finally casting his gaze to the ground as he nodded his head. AJ smiled and smirked at Howie, who shook his head in wonder.

“Okay, then,” began AJ, “What about this contract out on the kid?”

Mac glanced up nervously, “I-I don’t know a lot, but I know it’s from some rich guy.”

AJ frowned, “How much?”

Mac felt the betrayal seep into his bones as he answered, “Nine thousand dollars.”

AJ’s jaw dropped, eyes wide. Howie had to lean against the building as his ability to stand momentarily left him. AJ blinked, clearing his throat, “Did... did you say nine thousand dollars?”

Mac sullenly nodded, too caught up in his betrayal to his gang. AJ managed to continue, “Who hired Branson?”

“I don’t know, only Branson does.” Mac was beginning to fidget, nervous as to if he would get out of this alive and if he did, what would Branson do?

AJ thought for a few minutes, “Okay, I believe ya on that. How about this? Where are ya gonna take the kid if’n ya get ‘im?”

Mac looked up, “Somewhere’s around Monument. That’s all I know, the contractor has a meetin’ place set up with Branson around the town of Monument.”

AJ nodded absently, turning his attention to Howie but keeping his gun trained on Mac, “What do ya think, D’?”

Howie frowned, “I don’t know, he’s seemin’ ta be genuine in what he’s tellin’ us. The kid’s got a price of nine thousand dollars on his head and we don’t know who put it out, but he’s waitin’ out by Monument.”

AJ nodded, “So what do you think we should do?”

As AJ and Howie talked, Mac saw an opening and sprang forward before he lost his nerve. He kicked AJ hard in the right shin and then pushed him away, spinning and sprinting out of the alley.

AJ let out a string of curses, “OW! God damn it! Son of a-” He cut himself off as he bit his lip, one hand still holding his gun while the other was gripping his shin, all the while hopping around on one foot. Howie was leaning against the building for support as he laughed himself silly, arms wrapped around his middle as he gasped for breath.

AJ tentatively set his foot down, testing it before pinning Howie with a glare, “Oh, shut the hell up, Howie! The damn kid got away!”

“I... know, but...” Howie tried to catch his breath, “Oh, that was just great!”

AJ scowled at Howie’s grinning face, turning to look down the alley where the kid disappeared. He sighed, “Well, I guess we got all we could outta ‘im anyways. We didn’t need him to get away, though. Now he’ll go spoutin’ to Branson that we know where he’s gonna head if’n he ever gets Nick.”

Howie became serious, “Nah, I don’t think so. That kid won’t tell Branson ‘cause he’s too afraid. He would be labeled a traitor for givin’ up information. We shouldn’t worry about it, he’ll keep ‘is mouth shut.”

“I hope yer right, ‘D,” sighed AJ, grimacing as he took a step, “C’mon, we best get on back to the big, bad boss man.”

“AJ,” Howie toned, “Kevin ain’t all that bad.”

“Hrummph!” was AJ’s only reply as they walked out of the alley, AJ with a slight limp, Howie with a smirk on his lips and glint in his eye.

They soon came up on the saloon, stopping to lean against the supports. After a couple of minutes of waiting, AJ looked at Howie quizzically, “Hey, somethin’ seem fishy to you?”

Glancing around, Howie nodded, “Where’s all the people?”

AJ pushed away from the support he leaned against, peaking into the saloon, “Place is done cleaned out... ...Damn.”

Howie frowned, “What?”

AJ turned to his friend, “It’s shot ta hell. The whole place is ransacked.”

Howie shifted nervously, “Shouldn’t Kevin be here by now? And... wasn’t Brian supposed to be...”

AJ snapped his eyes to the saloon, then back to Howie, “Aw, crap.”

“What do we do?” asked Howie, looking at the saloon in worry.

AJ shook his head, “Look for ‘em. They haveta be around someplace, ‘cause they ain’t here.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“In a matter of speakin’, yeah. As long as they ain’t just lying dead somewhere’s else.”

Howie scowled, his voice dry of emotion as he spoke, “Your upside to this is astounding, AJ.”

“Let’s just get ta lookin’.”

~/~/~( )~~~

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know. I can’t leave you here alone with ‘im and I can’t let you go anywhere alone,” answered Kevin, not taking his eye away from his hand.

“What do ya mean? I can stay with ‘im, I’d protect ‘im,” replied Nick heatedly, his face dark.

“Yeah, you can,” sighed Kevin, then finally looked at the rebel, “But who’d protect you?”

Nick paused, frowning, “Well, we still gotta do somethin’. He needs Howie!”

Kevin thought for a moment, “We shoulda been at the saloon to meet up ‘bout this time, why don’t you go take a peak to see if they are at the saloon. Don’t do any more than that, Kaos. Just see if they’re there.”

Nick nodded and pushed to his feet, biting his lip and taking a deep breath before walking to the mouth of the alley. Kevin had kept his eyes on his cousin, watching for signs he’d wake up and not noticing the rebel’s slip.

Nick cautiously stepped up to the edge of the alley, tentatively looking out. He almost yelled in relief, seeing AJ and Howie across the street, wondering among the buildings. Nick glanced back at Kevin, then placed his fingers to his lips. An earsplitting whistle echoed throughout the town, causing AJ and Howie to snap straight, their heads switching side to side for the cause.

Howie glanced at AJ before searching the surroundings, catching Nick’s figure in the alley across from them. Nick gave a wave of acknowledgment and then a more frantic beckoning for them to come quick. Howie jogged to AJ and grabbed his arm, then dragged the sharpshooter across the street and to Nick.

“What happened?” asked Howie in a huff of breath as he stopped before the rebel. AJ tore his arm out of Howie’s grip and stared at Nick, catching something in the drifter’s eyes, but not sure what it meant.

“Brian was attacked by two of Branson’s men,” Nick quickly explained, then paused, “He got shot.”

“What?!” exclaimed both Howie and AJ.

Howie pinned Nick with a serious look, “Where is he?”

Nick nodded behind him, “In the alley, Kevin’s with him. We don’t know how bad it is, but he’s passed out.”

Howie pushed past Nick and into the alley, AJ gave Nick a curious look, then nudged him to get him going. Nick gave him a small nod and they followed the healer into the alley.

Kevin looked up to see Howie rushing toward him, concern on his Latino face. Kevin sighed, glad to see the younger man. Howie kneeled before them, his eyes on Brian as he asked, “Has he woken up at all?”

Kevin shook his head, “No, been still as a board.” He watched as Howie carefully examined the blood-stained sleeve, “He gonna be okay?”

After a minute, Howie sat back on his feet. He glanced at Kevin and then at AJ and Nick as they arrived. Howie smiled, “He’ll be fine, it just grazed him.”

Nick looked both relieved and surprised, “Really? I mean, why’d he pass out?”

Kevin shot a glare at the blond, not having forgot that Nick had disobeyed him by whistling to Howie and AJ instead of just reporting back to him. He turned his attention back to Howie as he spoke, “The only thing I can say is shock. Did this happen in a real... well, excitin’ way? Him gettin’ shot, I mean.”

Kevin nodded, “Yeah, he was a’flyin’ outta the saloon window when we first saw him. Who knows what went on in the saloon before that. When we got ahold o’ him, he didn’t even know he was shot.”

“Well,” toned AJ, “The saloon is in a royal mess, so it couldn’t a’been good.”

Howie pressed a hand to the bleeding wound, trying to stop the slow, but steady flow of the red liquid. The pressure elicited a groan from the prone gambler, his eyelids fluttering slightly. Howie leaned over him, “Brian?... Brian, can you hear me? You wakin’ up?”

Another groan and the eyes opened, slowly focussing on Howie, “Howie?” The gambler’s voice was soft, the accent heavy.

Howie smiled, “Yep. Got yerself in a pickle, I see.”

Brian looked momentarily confused, then looked at his shoulder where the healer’s hand firmly gripped him, his hand red. Brian closed his eyes with a moan, the memories returning, “Aw, hell.”

AJ chuckled, “That about covers it, pard’.”

Howie looked at the gambler in concern, “You think you can gain yer feet? We ought to be leavin’, and my supplies are with my saddle bags.”

Brian nodded, eyes still closed. Kevin looked at Howie in confusion, “Leave?” His green gaze switched back and forth between Howie and AJ, seeing a hidden knowledge behind the sets of brown, “What did you find out?”

“Later, Kev,” said AJ, “Let’s fix Bri’ up and get the hell outta here, then we’ll tell ya.”

Kevin frowned, but nodded. He helped Brian as he struggled to his feet, Howie not releasing his grip. Brian clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. Once he got control, he shrugged Kevin’s hands off and replaced Howie’s hand with his own. He looked at them all, gesturing to he livery, “Shall we proceed?”

While the others looked on with concern, AJ shook his head, “He gots more fight in ‘im than a rattle snake.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” replied the gambler, “Though the source is indefinitely ambiguous.”

AJ blinked and did a double take, “I don’t think I want to know.”

Brian grinned brightly, grunting out, “Nope.”

Howie kept close to Brian’s side, ready if the gambler’s legs betrayed him. Brian simply kept a firm grip on his shoulder, his teeth clenched at the burning pain while his face revealed nothing. He calmly stared back at his four companions. Kevin kept a wary eye on Brian while speaking, “All right, I guess we’re leavin’.”

The five traveled to the livery by way of the back alleys, not taking the risk of being seen in the main street by any of Branson’s lingering men. As soon as they entered the livery, Howie be-lined it to his saddle bags, pulling out a roll of bandages and several other objects. He sat Brian down on a straw bale and told him to remove his navy jacket, leaving the gambler in his white silk shirt and black vest, his left sleeve colored a deep red. Without even looking at Brian, Howie gripped the bloody sleeve near the tear and ripped the sleeve from the stiches.

“Howie!” exclaimed Brian, staring at his now bare arm, the severed sleeve bunched at his wrist. “That was a perfectly good shirt! Do you have any idea how much this shirt costs?!?”

“It was pretty much a goner anyways, Brian,” replied Howie, dowsing a cloth in alcohol and setting to cleaning the gambler’s wound. Brian spoke no more, his lips pressed firmly together as the healer attended to his injury.

Kevin winced as he watched the process, the wound wasn’t pretty, even if it was minor. An ugly red furrow scored across his shoulder in a diagonal, stretching all the way across, an easy half inch deep in the center of the graze. Kevin grimaced in sympathy as Howie pulled out a suture needle and some kind of string, soon performing the task of stitching the open wound closed.


For Brian’s part, he remained tense and reserved, not moving until he felt the bandage tied off. He quickly shrugged his navy jacket back on, not looking anyone in the eye.

Howie sat back after placing his supplies back in his saddle bags, addressing Brian, “You ought to be fine, shoulder might be sore an’ stiff, but if’n ya take it easy on it, ya should be fine. Ya lost a fair ‘mount of blood, too. So ya might feel a bit off in some respects, so don’t overdo nothin’. Ya hearin’ me, Bri’?”

Brian nodded, straightening out his jacket, “Most assuredly, Howie, loud and clear.”

“All right,” spoke Kevin leaning against a stall, staring at Howie and AJ, “What’d ya find out.”

AJ looked at Howie and motioned he’d talk, he addressed Kevin, “We... caught... one of Branson’s men and had a bit of a talk with ‘im.”

“What?!” cried Kevin, shocked, “You got one of his men? Where the hell is he?!”

AJ unconsciously flexed his leg, wincing, “Um, he got away... BUT, we got what we needed from ‘im.”

Kevin crossed his arms, “Well, I’m waiting.”

“All we could get was that the contractor is some rich guy who’s waitin’ out by Monument for the drop off of the kid...” AJ paused, glancing at Nick, then Kevin, “The kid’s got nine thousand dollars on ‘is head.”

A loud thump caused them to spin around, Nick was sitting on the dirty ground, his back to a stall. The young features were drawn in shock, he blinked up at AJ, “Nine... nine thousand... Dollars?!?”

AJ nodded, “Yep. Somebody out there wants you bad.”

Kevin rubbed his chin, “Monument... We’ll have to cross Pike’s Peak.”

Howie looked at Kevin, “What d’ya mean, Kev? We’re headin’ to Monument now?”

Kevin nodded, turning and opening his stall, Blaze nickering his welcome, “We find the contractor, we find the answers and finish this business at the same time.”

Brian sighed, his blue gaze looking out into the hills and mountains in the distance through the livery doors, “Well, Pike’s Peak, here we come.”

Note: Not yet beta read.



~/~/~( Chapter 7 )~~~



Mac kept his eyes down as he rode along side Branson, his hat pulled low over his face. He kept as still as he could, feeling as if an explosion would hit him at any moment. He was ashamed of himself, he had betrayed Branson because he was scared. What kind of outlaw got scared?

“Hey, Mac,” spoke Branson, causing the red headed youth to jump, “Yer awful quiet.” Branson stared at the nervous face, his gray eyes narrowing, “You hidin’ somethin’? ‘Cause yer actin’ like a cornered rabbit.”

“N-no, Branson,” stammered Mac, swallowing nervously, “I ain’t hidin’ anything.”

Branson’s eyes narrowed to slits as Mac quickly looked away, so Branson couldn’t see his face. Branson had always had a knack for reading people and right now he wasn’t all too pleased with what he was witnessing in the young outlaw beside him. He pulled his horse to a stop, raising a hand to halt his remaining men, two of whom were sportin’ bruised faces after informing Branson at their failed attempt at getting the gambler. The other two didn’t tell Branson that they had caught and then lost Nick, they did hold some value over their lives.

Branson stared long and hard at Mac, causing the youth to shift uncomfortably, “What aren’t you tellin’ me, Mac?”

Mac’s head snapped up at the menacing tone, his brown eyes widening at the sight of Branson’s threatening glare. He cleared his throat and spilled his guts, he was getting the feeling that he wasn’t cut out for this outlaw stuff.

Branson’s whole demeanor seemed to darken as Mac informed him that Kevin and the others now knew where the contractor was waiting for his bounty. When Mac finished, silence encompassed the small band of outlaws. Branson stared at his horse’s dark mane, a sinister smile soon turning his lips as he looked at his men. Mac shuddered.

“You know why I had you go after that gambler, and you know how much money the kid is worth,” Branson said slowly, carefully explaining to his men, “I know what is goin’ on in the mind of Richardson, he’s gonna go right to the source.” Branson smiled, “He’s gonna take our bounty to the man for us, we jus’ gotta grab him ‘fore he gets all the way there... Carter is worth a lot of money, money I intend to collect... and I want to get rid of the last of those damned Richardsons so I can finally finish what I started nine years ago, but,” paused Branson, his cold eyes glinting, ”I’m gonna get that Richardson in my own kinda way, make ‘im feel like ‘is heart’s ripped out a second time.”

Branson laughed at his plan that only he could see in his mind, his gray eyes glazing over in madness. His men each had to blink, truly considering if what they were doing was worth continuing on with a crazy man. Branson’s voice was cold and calculated as he spoke, “We’re gonna kill two birds with one stone, boys.”

After adjusting his reins, Branson glared at Mac, “I’ll take care of you later.”

Mac paled, his heart seeming to stop in his chest. Branson gave him one last look and then spurred his horse into a gallop, the rest of his men following. Mac hesitated, then kicked his own horse into a gallop after his fellow outlaws. He had to think of something... and fast. Mac had finally realized that he wasn’t what Branson had tried to make him after all...

~/~/~( 5 hours later, on the trail )~~~

Brian hated long... really long days in the saddle, it got to wearing on your nerves and gave you too much time to think. What’s worse, the company he was currently keeping was in the realm of non conversationalists. A man could shuffle cards for only so long before it got old, and the scenery was monotonous. Dust, grass, hill, distant mountains... that’s it. Same thing wherever you look.

With a frustrated sigh, Brian shoved his deck of cards back into his jacket. He winced slightly as he pulled his shoulder, but pushed it to the back of his mind. He nudged Joker into a trot and sidled up along side Kevin.

Brian eyed the silent man, “Kevin, how much more distance must we travel until we reach the land marked mountain pass of Pike’s Peak?”

Kevin shrugged, not looking at Brian, “’Bout an hour’s worth, maybe two.” Kevin sent a green eyed glance at the gambler, “Why? Bored?”

Brian raised his eyebrows, then replied, letting some of his sarcasm and dry wit come forth, “Me? Bored? Why, I’d never be weary of the interminable silence from the company of four other beings of my species, to which I have decamped through the most vile and uncivilized imitations of the slightest inclination of the describatory word of towns. Not to allude the simply stirring surroundings I have had the utmost fortuitousness in staring at for the past five hours...” Brian stopped, tilting his head at Kevin, “Shall I go on? Or have you grasped my meaning?”

Kevin now stared fully at Brian, his face blank. He roughly shook his head, “God-damn, Brian! You need to simplify that mouth o’ yours or else I’m gonna haveta shoot the blamed thing off!”

Brian smiled roguishly, his blue eyes sparkling, “Touché, Kevin.”

Kevin glared at him, “Just shut yer trap! It hurts my ears listening to yer damned mile long sentences.”

Brian frowned, then nodded his head in acceptance. He didn’t know if he’d ever break through the barrier Kevin had put around himself, didn’t know if Kevin would ever acknowledge him as family. With a small sigh, Brian pulled his horse up slightly and now rode along side Nick, “And how are you, Mr. Carter?”

Nick sent Brian a weird look, “You jus’ call me ‘Mr. Carter’?”

Brian smiled, “Indeed I did, you do not like that kind of address?”

Nick scowled, pulling his head back, “Hell no, rather jus’ be called Nick or Kaos. It’s a whole lot simpler.”

“I see,” grinned Brian, shifting his seat and causing his saddle leather to creek, “If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any idea yet of who wants you so bad? I mean, the man obviously has money.”

Nick frowned and stared straight ahead, “No, I don’t know who it is.”

Brian frowned yet again as Nick nudged Journey into a trot and pulled away from him. Brian furrowed his brow and reached a hand up to scratch beneath his hat, wondering why he’d suddenly lost his conversation skills. He stretched and shifted in his seat, not able to stop the wince that flashed across his face as his shoulder burned at the movement.

“You okay?”

The soft voice startled Brian, though you wouldn’t know it from looking at him as his appearance remained the same, “Fine and dandy, Howie.”

Howie tilted his head at the gambler riding across from him, “Ya sure? Shoulder’s not botherin’ ya none?”

Brian gave the healer a grin, “It’s only a minor inconvenience, I assure you. I’ve had worse.”

Howie raised an eyebrow, “Really? Cheat the wrong people at cards?”

Brian frowned, “I do not cheat, some people simply assume I do when they lose... repeatedly.”

Howie smiled and nodded, “Uh-huh... So, um... Been meaning to ask ya... What’s the deal between you and Kevin?”

Brian looked confused, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, well...” Howie paused, searching for the right words, “You seem to be tryin’ to vie for his attention left and right, and he don’t want nothin’ to do wit’cha, but I can tell he wants ya around... if that makes any sense. So, what’s the deal? Why’re you tryin’ so hard?”

Brian was silent for a few minutes, his gaze on the ground moving beneath their horses’ feet. He sighed and looked up, his blue eyes fixed on the back of Kevin, “We’re family.”

Howie’s eyes brightened, understanding filling their depths. He blinked as he remembered the remark Brian said when they had decided to follow Kevin, I am the only family he has left. Howie faced the pensive man beside him, “How’re you related?”

“Cousins,” was the simple answer.

Howie nodded thoughtfully, wondering at the sudden simpleness of Brian’s speech. He tried for more information, “You’ve not known each other long then?”

Brian shook his head, “I met up with him about five minutes before we ran into you. So I know about as much as you do about the man... You do know of his past, correct?”

Howie frowned and nodded, “Sadly, yes. Not that many people don’t know about it. It’s pretty much common knowledge, as is his name.” Howie stopped and sighed, shaking his head slightly, “I know of the road that Kevin is travelin’, and if he ever reaches the end of it...” Howie looked Brian straight in eyes, “It can be jus’ as bad as the first day your heart was ripped apart, only now ya know there’s nothin’ you can do about it anymore. You feel jus’ as empty, if not more.”

Brian stared at Howie, the intensity and seriousness of his words portraying a hidden knowledge. Brian cleared his throat and thought through what the healer said, a question soon reaching his lips and coming out almost tentatively, “How do you know of this, Howie? It’s as if you speak from experience.”

Brian watched as Howie’s eyes clouded over, a sadness of pain and remorse entering the brown depths. Howie nodded slightly and turned away. For a moment Brian thought he had lost another perfectly good conversation when the ex-gunslinger spoke, “I walked the same steps as Kevin, only I achieved my goal. Let me tell you, it didn’t take away the pain or emptiness and that jus’ made it worse. I went downhill and fast,” Howie shook his head, “If it weren’t for AJ...” Howie stopped, his eyes glancing back at the tracker, “I turned my life around and ‘ave tried to help people instead of waste my life away feelin’ sorry for myself. That’s why I’m ridin’ along side ya right now, Brian, instead of hopelessly drunk in some rundown saloon or six feet under.”

Brian stared, for once at a loss for words. He opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head. He finally forced out a question, “What happened to you, Howie? What did that to you? I mean, you hardly seem the type to ever be like Kevin.”

Howie smiled sadly, “I once had a beautiful wife that I loved dearly and an adorable baby girl I cherished. They were my whole life, so when they were taken from me without a second’s warnin’... It killed somethin’ in me that I don’t think will ever be revived.” Howie blinked as his vision blurred, letting out a soft sigh, “They killed my wife and daughter, Brian, for no more reason than entertainment on a drunken binge. I’ll never be able to erase the image of their lifeless bodies, whether I see it in dreams or the light o’ day, it’ll never fully go away. I can only live the days fer others so that I might ‘ave relief from my own thoughts.”

Brian frowned, seeing the long felt pain still held in the brown eyes, “Surely it must get better as time goes on.”

Howie smiled half-heartedly, “Oh, yes. The pain does lessen, the guilt does fade, but... you never get over the feelin’ of wakin’ up in your bed and reachin’ over fer someone that’ll never be there again. You never get over walkin’ down a town’s street and hearin’ a child’s laugh and swearin’ to God it was yer little girl only to turn and see a stranger. So, yes Brian. Some things get better, but some things never can go away.”

Brian blinked and slowly nodded his head, accepting the private knowledge Howie had just provided him with. He felt it only necessary to divulge some of his own, “I know it can never go away, but you can learn to accept it as a part of you and move on. We are not made to live in the past, Howie. We are people of the present, of the future. Dwelling on our past will only kill our future, you are not living if you know of only the past and nothing else. You move on, you live on. It may just be as simple as that.”

Howie looked at Brian, not surprised to see nothing on the man’s face or to have not heard any emotion in his words, “You’ve had a rocky past as well, Brian?”

Brian smirked, but Howie could see just a glimmer of sadness in the blue eyes, “Haven’t we all?”

Howie nodded, knowing he would get no further with the gambler. Their conversation stopped there, but they continued on riding side by side, a companionable silence between them.

AJ stretched his back and made his routine cursory glance behind them, soon satisfied they weren’t being followed. Looking ahead, he frowned. He had good ears and had been able to hear Howie and Brian’s entire conversation. He knew pretty much all of what Howie spoke of already, but Brian’s contribution puzzled him. He knew there was more to the gambler, things that were big and had hurt the man terribly. He could tell by how he perceived everything and everyone with a practiced eye, sizing them up to see if they could be trusted. The Southerner has had as shaky a past as the rest of them it seemed.

AJ tilted his head, realizing how much alike they were. You couldn’t see it on the outside, most absolutely not. Their outward appearances were as different as you could get, but they all shared the feeling of being different, of just not fitting in the grand scheme of things. They all seemed to mesh pretty good together though, as if it were meant for them to meet and become friends.

With a shake of the head, AJ snapped out of his musings. It would do them no good to be caught off guard when they were in the middle of an area basically screaming out ambush. AJ looked around him, recognizing the formations around him.

Pike’s Peak.

The namesake mountain could be seen from where they were as they rode into the pass. The mountains reached far above them on either side, causing many dark shadows to cast themselves over them and create an atmosphere simulating night, even as you could see the setting sun and orange blue sky above.

AJ straightened as a recognizable silhouette rode up to him, “Kevin.” AJ nodded to the man.

Kevin gave him a brief nod, “You think we’ll see any trouble?”

AJ felt uneasy in the shadows that blanketed them and pressed his lips together before answering, his eyes briefly flicking at Howie as he joined them, “I’d be lyin’ if I say no, cowboy. This area is known for its trouble, perfect place for an ambush.”

Howie cleared his throat, “Maybe we ought to go back a ways and make camp, it’s gettin’ late. I don’t really like the idea of goin’ through the pass at night, bad enough in daylight.”

Kevin glanced at where Brian and Nick sat astride their horses, patiently waiting around forty feet ahead. Kevin looked back to Howie and AJ, “Let’s head on back then, no use gettin’ stuck in ‘ere at night.”

They nodded and turned their horses around, Kevin lifting an arm to wave Nick and Brian over.

A hollow crack and then a rolling, crackling whisper caused their heads to snap up, looking to the vast rock walls around them. A hazy, rolling dust cloud was building in size and closeness above them to their right, the sound of heavy rocks impacting fellow rock reaching their ears, echoing throughout the pass.

AJ’s eyes widened in panic, “Rock slide!! ... Nick! Brian! Get out of there!”

Nick stared in horror as the rocks and dust came right at them, frozen to his spot. Journey was not so immobile and with a frantic neigh, wheeled around and bolted further into the pass, taking his stunned rider with him.

Brian watched Nick take off and followed suit, running a good fifty yards away before skidding to a stop. They both looked back at where they’d come from and could only see dust, the shadows of the pass making it even more difficult to see. Brian looked at Nick beside him and could only make out the rebel’s silhouette and a faint difference in color where his gray shirt and tanned skin were.

As the rocks finally settled, the dust billowed out further and toward Nick and Brian, shrouding them in a dusty fog. With the rocks no longer making a sound, Brian could hear a distinct click, followed by several others.

Brian quickly inhaled and then coughed, taking in the dust. Aw, hell...

A low laugh rolled up to them through the haze and shadows, soon followed by a menacing voice, “Well, boys, looks like we caught our two birds.”

Nick felt fear and hatred rip through him simultaneously, he drew his gun, his eyes narrowing as he ground out, “Branson.”

“Nick, my boy! Good to see you again... or rather, not see you,” Branson laughed, the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel reaching the two cornered young men.

Nick had to focus his attention on Journey suddenly as the horse half reared, shuffling back several steps, angry snorts escaping the steed’s nose. Nick kept a firm rein and talked smoothly in a low and calming voice, “Whoa there, Journey. Take ‘er easy.”

“I don’t think yer horse likes me, Carter.”

Nick’s eyes snapped to his left side, panic streaking through him as he made out Branson’s form right beside him, no more than a foot away. Then Nick saw the metallic gleam and knew he was caught.

“Brian?” called Nick, not taking his eyes off Branson. “You okay?”

Silence, then, “At the moment? Well, I have been in better situations, but then again, I’ve also been in worse.”

Brian sat stock still on Joker, his blue eyes in a stare at the two men at his side with guns trained on his heart. Oh, however do we get ourselves into these situations...

Branson gestured to Nick and the weapon he still held in his hand, “Why don’t you two get off them horses o’ yours and hand them guns over, all nice an’ good like, eh?”

Slowly, Nick and Brian dismounted, soon relieved of their weapons. Brian had to suppress a smile though, as they hadn’t taken his derringer, it still hidden up his right sleeve. Brian grimaced as the two men guarding him roughly ushered him toward Nick and Branson, the air around them beginning to clear somewhat.

Branson had a bright glint in his eyes as he ordered his men, “Get the rope and tie their hands, then get ‘em back astride and tie ‘em to their saddles.” Branson smiled at Nick and Brian, “Don’t want you’s gettin’ away after all that trouble we went to gettin’ ya.”

Soon, Nick and Brian were back astride and were in the process of being tied hands and feet to their saddles when distant shouts reached them.

“Brian! Nick! Ya’s all right?!”

“Kaos! Brian!... Damn it! Answer us ‘fore I get real mad and come hunt you both down and shoot yer damned asses off!”

An indignant, “Kevin!” Then, “Are you hurt?! ... C’mon, guys! Say somthin’!!”

“Kevin!” yelled Nick quickly, his eyes darting to Branson, “Kev, it’s Branson! He’s got u-”

Nick’s voice cut off abruptly with a scream of pain and he leaned over in his saddle, his breath coming in short pants of controlled agony.

~/~/~( )~~~

“NICK!” Kevin’s intense green eyes stared at Howie and AJ, their expressions telling him they heard the scream as well. Kevin scowled in anger, though his eyes deepened in fear, “Branson. Damn it to hell! He planned this whole damn thing!”

AJ looked at the dust ahead of them, his face angry with helplessness, “We can’t do anything until this dust settles, we can’t see ‘em. Plus, we don’t know how blocked the pass is by the rocks.”

Howie stared at the pass, his face worried, “We know where he’s goin’, we atleast have that.”

Kevin’s face set in a dark countenance, “If either one of ‘em is hurt when we get ‘em back... Branson is a dead man, seven times over.”

~/~/~( )~~~

“What the hell did you do that for?!?” yelled Brian, his blue eyes glaring at Branson. He had jabbed the butt of his rifle hard into Nick’s left side, the same place the youth’s gunshot wound was.

“It shut him up, didn’t it?” growled Branson, meeting Brian’s glare steadily, “An’ if you don’t shut yer own damn mouth I’ll do the same to you!”

Brian narrowed his eyes dangerously, but kept his mouth shut. Branson turned to his men, “C’mon, we need to head out. Soon as the dust clears Richardson and those other two will be comin’.”

One of the men walked up to them leading several horses, the outlaws mounting and turning out of the pass. Two of the men came and took the reins of Joker and Journey, though not without almost being bit several times by the protective horses.

As they were lead away from the dust and away from their three friends, Brian took the time to look over at Nick. He could see Nick’s form hunched over his saddle, but couldn’t make out his face. He could hear Nick’s heavy breathing, it now coming in loud, measured breaths as he tried to overcome the obvious pain he was feeling.

Brian’s face twisted with worry, “Nick... Nick! You doing okay?”

Nick heard Brian and nodded his head. When Brian called his name again, he realized he couldn’t see the small movement, so he licked his lips and forced out a voiced reply, “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, Nick,” drawled Brian, the fear and worry he was feeling deepening his accent, “He hit you where you’re gunshot, right?”

“Yeah,” breathed Nick, he didn’t want to talk, even that hurt. Nick squeezed his eyes shut and then forced himself to sit somewhat straight in his saddle as they plodded along, the setting sun beginning to break through to them as they reached the end of the pass and the rock formations broke apart somewhat. Nick winced, a pinched look remaining on his face as his side burned in pain. He groaned softly, feeling a warm stickiness slowly trickling down his side, soaking into his dark jeans and stiffening the material. He didn’t need this right now.

The air was becoming clearer and Brian could now make Nick’s form out better, his face was turned away from him though. Brian knew Nick was still in pain, he knew the hit had to have hurt his still healing gunshot wound... He just didn’t know how bad. He’d have to wait until they stopped for the night to check on the rebel.

As the atmosphere cleared fully, Brian saw the lead horses pick up the pace, the horses leading he and Nick breaking into a trot. He heard Nick gasp as their own steeds were forced into the faster gait. Brian became even more worried as Nick gave up the task of remaining sitting upright and once again slumped over his horse’s neck, his form jarring with his horse’s movements.

Brian had to concentrate on himself as they broke into a hasty gallop, the dust billowing up behind them and their horses’ pounding hooves echoing around them and off the rock walls that still surrounded them. Brian had to grind his teeth together as his own wound began to throb in pain, his writs tied to the saddle horn and jerking taunt with every rocking movement of his horse, the force pulling on his shoulder.

They rode like this for several hours before slowing, now riding through a more spacious landscape, the mountains having moved off in the distance and the ground before them stretching into the horizon in a more level setting. The sun had almost set completely and only a deep reddish orange hue stretched over them, their black shadows leading away from them in long lines.

Brian was tired, very tired. He’d been riding for more than eight hours straight now and felt it. His sleepy blue eyes drifted over to Nick for the umpteenth time, concern creasing his brow at the silence and lack of movement from his friend. Brian grimaced, then tried to roll his left shoulder in an effort to ease the strain. Some of the stitches had torn and the graze had bled slightly, but Brian believed it wasn’t serious and the bleeding had stopped an hour or so ago, so he blocked it out of his mind the best he could.

The little light they had left lessened drastically to no more that a faint orange glow. The night had fallen and they still rode along, having yet to stop. Brian had no idea how far they had traveled, it had all passed him by like a confusing blur and he didn’t really see a point in cataloging the journey. He knew where they were going and thought it more wise to think of a way to stay alive and find escape, to be back with his friends and out of danger... well, as out of danger as he could be. It did have a way of following him around like a lost dog.

The continued silence from Nick was gnawing at Brian’s insides, he knew it wasn’t a good sign. Either Nick was in too much pain to talk, or he was unconscious. The longer the silence stretched, the more Brian thought it was the latter. Nick was too quiet, he didn’t like it and hoped they stopped soon. They had to.

No sooner than that thought did the horses ahead of him stop, the outlaws dismounting. The man that had lead Brian’s horse walked up to the gambler and untied him from the saddle, grabbing his arm roughly and jerking him out of his seat. Brian bit his lip as more of his stitches tore in the man’s fierce grip, but didn’t make a sound and managed to land on his feet and not on his butt. Looking over at Nick, he saw an outlaw untying the blond. Nick never moved. The man grabbed hold of Nick’s arm and Brian’s eyes widened at what he knew the man would do, “Hey, no! Don’t!”

The man just grinned at Brian’s plea and then yanked Nick out of the saddle, the rebel’s body hitting the ground on his injured side with a bone jarring thump. Brian shrugged the hands off of his arms and hurried to Nick as the youth groaned in pain, trying to roll off his injured side. Journey was having a fit, his dark eyes wide as he stared down at his man and pranced about nervously.

Brian reached Nick’s side and kneeled down, placing his bound hands on Nick’s shoulder and gently rolling him over. Nick moaned and slowly blinked his eyes open, staring owlishly up at Brian with confused blue orbs. He spoke, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Brian?”

Brian smiled sadly, gazing down at the dim features highlighted in the moon’s glow, the sun fully set, “Yeah, I’m still here. How are you feeling, Nick?”

Nick closed his eyes with a shaky sigh, “Tired...” He placed his bound hands over his left side, “Hurts.”

Brian glanced around and was glad to see the outlaws were letting him tend to Nick, two of them guarding them as the others made camp. Brian returned his gaze to Nick and gently moved Nick’s hands away from his side, reaching with his own and pulling the black vest aside. The lower half of the gray shirt was black in the dim light, Brian sighed, “How long have you been bleeding, Nick?”

Nick shrugged and winced, “Since he hit me... off and on.”

Brian frowned, then unbuttoned Nick’s shirt and pulled the bloody bandage underneath away from the wound. His blue eyes squinted in fear and worry, “Aw, jeez.”

The wound was torn by the force of the blow inflicted on it, a large dark bruise surrounding he torn flesh. Brian reached around and was relieved to find the exit wound to be still in good condition, the stitches still in place and not bleeding. Brian bit his lip and looked up at the men walking around the camp, seeing the fire now burning brightly several yards away. He needed to clean and bandage the wound or it would get infected.

With a deep breath, Brian called out, “Mr. Branson?! If I may have your attention?”

Branson pushed to his feet from where he sat by the fire, lumbering over to the con man, “What the hell do ya want?”

Brian remained indifferent and gestured to Nick, “I need water, alcohol, and some bandages to care for his wound.”

Branson chuckled as he looked at Nick, he didn’t know the kid was gunshot before he hit him. He liked it, it made him feel good, “So? Why should I help you an’ him?”

Brian inwardly fumed, but answered in a level drawl, “I believe he is worth more alive, correct? If he doesn’t receive proper attention, he will not be in that state when you reach Monument.”

Branson frowned, rubbing his stubbled jaw. With a disgruntled sigh, he nodded, “Fine. I’ll get yer stuff, but jus’ ‘cause I could use the extra money.”

As Branson walked away, Brian let the anger show on his face. Oh, how he wanted to wipe that smirk off of Branson’s ugly face. A few minutes later, one of the outlaws approached with the supplies Brian requested. As Brian took them from the outlaw, he noticed the young man didn’t leave right away. With a frown, Brian looked up to see a young red-headed man who’s dark eyes darted from Nick to the outlaws surrounding them.

The young man spoke, “Is... um, is he gonna be okay?”

Brian’s brow furrowed, “I think so.”

With a nervous nod, the youth smiled slightly, “Good.” Then he walked quickly away.

Brian watched him go and his frown deepened, then a glint of hope entered the jeweled blue eyes before he set to cleaning Nick’s wound. Nick didn’t react much to the water, but his blue eyes snapped open and he arched his back with a cry as Brian applied the alcohol.

Brian placed a steadying hand on Nick’s chest, “I’m almost done, Nick. Just hang in there for me, okay? Just a little longer.” Brian had long since abandoned using his complicated vocabulary, not possessing the effort and not really caring for it at the present time. He just wanted Nick to get better.

He finished cleaning Nick’s side and sat Nick up so he could bandage it. Once that was done, he buttoned Nick’s shirt back up to help keep the chill of the night out. Brian knew this was as close as they would get to the fire, it would be a long night.

Brian sat back and rested his arms on his knees, having decided his wound didn’t need much tending and taking a rest. He reached over and placed a hand on Nick’s forehead, feeling the beginnings of a mild fever... atleast he hoped it would only be mild. He sighed and brushed the hair that fell over Nick’s forehead back before lifting his hand to remove his hat, rubbing his head tiredly.

He looked up at the starry sky and the full moon that gave them some light over the darkened landscape. His gaze fell to the campfire before him and the figures grouped around it, then to the pale young man lying to his side. Brian sighed and rubbed his eyes. A long night indeed.

Note: Not yet beta read.




~/~/~( Chapter 8 )~~~


“Hey, now! Take it easy!”

Kevin spun around and glared at AJ, “Take it easy? ...Easy?!? That bastard Branson has made off with both Nick and Brian!!” Kevin turned his back on the stunned AJ, returning to the task of moving the rocks from the pass, which was illuminated by the full moon. He grabbed a large rock the size of a small calf and with a grunt, he blindly tossed it behind him.

“Hey! Watch it, Kev!” cried Howie as he stumbled back and fell on his rear, the rock Kevin just threw colliding with the ground where he was just standing a moment before. “Damn it, Kevin! If you don’t simmer down some, yer gonna get one of us killed!”

As Howie saw Kevin freeze in his motion to grasp another rock, he knew what he had just said was a mistake. A huge mistake. Howie swallowed and pushed himself to his feet, not raising his eyes as he felt a dark presence now standing before him.

Kevin stared at Howie, his green eyes on fire as anger rose within him like the sun at dawn, slowly and steadily. He clenched his scraped and dusty hands at his sides, their trembling clearly visible as he spoke in a low whisper, his voice even more menacing in the threatening softness, “Before I get one of you killed...” Kevin narrowed his flashing eyes, tilting his head, “You think I’m gonna get you all killed, that it? ...You listen to me, Howie, and listen good.”

Howie recognized the subtle command to look up at Kevin and he did, not able to stop the step back that took him away from the tall man’s dark eyes. Howie stared, he now knew the extent of anger, hate, and vengeance that possessed Kevin Richardson. He felt doubt as to his hopes that their newfound friendships could ever possibly alleviate Kevin’s shattered heart and soul.

Kevin’s voice carried through the crisp night air with stunning clarity, the conviction in his words catching the attention of the two men listening, “I swear, on my own life, none of you will die, NOT while I’m around. As long as I’m breathing, so are you.” Kevin closed in on Howie’s silent form, “Nick and Brian will not die, not while I’m alive. The same goes for you two. Do you understand me?”

Speechless, Howie mutely nodded, his brown eyes flitting to AJ who sat frozen on one of the rocks. AJ’s eyes never strayed from Kevin, his features a mass of surprise and confusion, as well as relief. Kevin hasn’t given in to the anger, he still has some of his common sense left.

“Good,” growled Kevin, “Now lets get on with this and get after them two.”

Howie watched as Kevin stalked back to the piles of rocks, stooping over to move yet another rock from their path. If they kept at it all night, they ought to have enough cleared to get the horses through. With a sigh, Howie stepped to the rocks and joined Kevin in the work, AJ doing the same.

Not one more word was spoken.

~/~/~( )~~~

Brian’s eyes snapped open, becoming suddenly awake. He let out a soft moan, grimacing as his back ached and neck stiffened. He looked around at the dark night, confused, then noticed his tied hands and remembered. He’d fallen asleep, sitting with his back slumped and head resting on his knees. Not a very comfortable position.

Brian frowned, he felt warm. He brought his hands up to his face and noticed his skin was warm to the touch. Damn it, he thought, Guess that graze wasn’t as minor as I thought.

With a scowl, Brian awkwardly worked his jacket and shirt as far down his shoulder as he could, prying the bloody bandage loose and trying to get a look at his wounded shoulder. He silently cursed himself, seeing the wound had been torn and all stitches broken. It had stopped bleeding, but without the sutures, it wouldn’t take much for it to start up again. Not to mention, he was getting a fever. He just hoped it didn’t get too bad, so he’d still have his wits about him.

He visibly jumped as a cry startled him, his blue eyes snapping to the cause. Nick was awake, sitting up and panting. Brian watched as the blond let out a groan and slumped back to the ground, wincing.

Brian scooted closer to Nick and leaned forward to place his hands on Nick’s warm shoulder, “Hey, you okay?”

Nick looked at Brian and raised an eyebrow, letting out a scoff, “I feel like shit.”

Brian smirked, “Okay, in what ways do you feel like shit?”

Nick stared up at Brian, “I feel sick and my side feels like someone’s shovin’ a hot poker through it.”

Brian winced in sympathy, “Think you can go for some water? They gave us a canteen.”

Nick nodded and Brian helped him struggle to sit up, then handed him the canteen. He watched as Nick’s hands shook slightly as he lifted it up to his mouth. Brian sighed, “We have to get out of this.”

Nick lowered the canteen, capping it and handing it back to Brian. He placed his bound hands in his lap and stared at the dusty ground. When he spoke, his voice was soft and held a trace of defeat, “What for? He’ll jus’ keep comin’ after me.”

Brian studied Nick, his eyes narrowing at the change in the rebel’s personality. What had happened to the ‘I don’t need you or anyone else’ stubborn attitude? “Not if we stop him, Nick, and that is just what will happen. I’m sure of it.”

Nick turned his face to Brian, his once vibrant blue eyes now dull, a haunted look gripping them. Nick scrutinized the gambler beside him, trying to decide whether he could truly trust the man. Brian stared right back at him, his eyes reassuring and a supportive smile turning his lips. Nick looked away and sighed.

“Brian, have you ever had somethin’ ya took fer granted fer truth be suddenly ripped away from ya in the knowledge that it was all a lie?”

Brian furrowed his brow at the softly spoken words, not expecting this sudden openness from the man beside him, who was almost as closed off as he. Brian pursed his lips, his face clouding over in memory as... he lied, “Not to my knowledge, no.”

Nick nodded his head slightly, “Me neither.”

“Then why would you ask of it, if it were not something you knew of?” pressed Brian, somehow knowing that Nick wanted to tell him something, something of his past that he hadn’t told anyone. “Tell me, Nick. You can trust me.”

“I can?” asked Nick, drawing his knees up to rest his arms on their support. He shifted his seat with a wince, not looking at Brian as he continued, “I’ve only been able to trust one person since... ...since before. An’ he went an’ died an’ left me alone all over again. No one’s shown me any reason to trust ‘em...” Nick threw a glance over at Brian before letting his gaze fall on the lone outlaw by the fire that had stayed up to watch them, “Why should you be any dif’rent?”

Brian gave Nick’s form a long look, then let out a loud sigh, “Hell, Nick. I’m not the one that should be sitting here preaching to you about trust, when I wouldn’t trust a person as soon as look at them.”

Brian lightly tapped Nick on the arm with his hands, getting the rebel to look at him, “My living is reading people, Nick. Let me tell you that what I see in you and the others; AJ, Howie, and even Kevin, is something we can trust.” Brian stared Nick in the eyes, “You see and know it too, otherwise you would have been long gone back in that first town...” Brian smiled, “You almost were, if I remember correctly. You stayed, Nick. Why?”

Nick blinked, turning his head away and staring at his hands, “I don’t know. It-... it jus’ felt right, I guess. I don’t rightly know the exact reason fer stayin’, I’ve still got to figure it out.”

Nick pressed his lips together, his sandy eyebrows scrunching as he switched his gaze to the stars above in the ebony night sky, “There’s one thing... I don’t know, but...” Nick sighed, shaking his head slightly, “No one ‘ceptin’ Pete ever took a second look at me, no one ever cared either way what happened ta me. Hell, the only reason I’m sittin’ here instead of dead and buried is ‘cause of Pete. He taught me so much... an’ I never got to give anything back to ‘im ‘fore he died.”

Nick fell silent and Brian pursed his lips, wondering if he should say something for Nick to continue, or stay quiet and let Nick decide. Pressing his lips together, he chose to initiate the conversation to continue, he thought Nick needed a little nudge to go on, “How did Pete help you, Nick?”

Nick smiled slightly, giving Brian a small glance before focusing in on his hands again, “He basic’ly grabbed me by my collar and drug me outta a saloon fight where I woulda been dog meat. Took me in and taught me how to live out here,” Nick gestured to their surroundings. He looked at Brian, “I ain’t from around here, I guess ya could say. Didn’t know a dust devil from a tornado. Ol’ Petey showed me the dif’rence of things and made sure I knew what was good an’ bad when it came to gettin’ the lead out.”

Brian smiled, but it fell away as he asked his next question, “How did he... die?”

Nick frowned and looked away from Brian, “Got sick, pneumonia. He was pretty old, near twice Kevin’s age I’d say. Pro’bly more so. I was left alone and took what Pete taught me and survived.” Nick stared hard at his bound hands, clenching them into fists, “I survived.”

After a pause, Nick let out a sigh, raising his hands to rub his warm face tiredly before switching his gaze to lock with Brian’s, “Then you guys come along and start helpin’ me, even when I said I didn’t need it. Y’all still stuck around... No one’s ever done that ‘cept Pete, an’ I fought him tooth and nail in the beginnin’, same as I fought you guys. Me decidin’ to trust him was one of the best decisions I ever made...” Nick paused, then continued, “Thought maybe the same might happen with you guys, I jus’ been havin’ a bit of trouble convincin’ myself of it.”

Brian nodded his head, his eyes scanning the surroundings, “It took me a while to see what was right in front of me, too. I still haven’t totally convinced myself, but I know in my heart that it’s right...” Brian glanced sideways at Nick and cleared his throat, right now he’d like to know why he was talking so openly with the rebel. He mentally shook his head, it just felt right, to talk to Nick like he was. He smiled slightly as he thought that Nick was probably wondering the same thing of himself. His smile widening, Brian looked at Nick who was currently gazing away from him, “Now, you mind telling me what woke you up in such a distressful state earlier?”

Nick’s head snapped around to stare at Brian. Damn it, thought Nick, thought he didn’t notice. Nick took in Brian’s smug expression in the moonlight and silently cursed, who was he kidding? Nick rested his head in his hands briefly, letting out a breath of air before lifting his head and answering, “Had a bit of a nightmare...” Nick stopped, his face astonished. He hadn’t meant to say that, what the hell? He snapped his eyes to Brian and saw the raised eyebrows, obviously, the gambler didn’t expect such a truthful answer either.

Brian took in Nick’s shocked countenance and smirked, “Care to share it?”

Nick stared at Brian and then rolled his eyes, his voice exasperated when he spoke, “God, why’d I say that?” Nick then gave Brian a grin, but Brian could see it was forced.

“You can talk to me about it, Nick,” placated Brian, his smirk gone and replaced with a sincere expression. “You do have a mild fever, so that is most assuredly the cause of your dream. It may help you to relay it to me.”

Nick turned away from Brian with a scowl, but Brian also noticed a trace of fear in the blue eyes, “It was nothin’, nothin’ I want ta talk about anyways.”

Brian pursed his lips, “You sure? You never know-”

“I said NO, Brian!” snapped Nick, his blue eyes flashing in the moon’s glow.

Brian swallowed and sent a nervous glance to the fire, watching as the man on guard shifted his hold on his gun and eyed them. Clearing his throat, Brian looked back at Nick and nodded his head, “Understood. I shall not ask anymore of you.”

Nick’s angry expression fell away and he sighed, “Aw Christ, Brian. I’m sorry. I- ...I jus’ don’t want to talk about it, ‘kay?”

Brian watched Nick for a moment, then smiled, “It’s all right, Nick. I understand. Some things are not for discussion.”

With a grateful smile, Nick nodded. Brian set his lips in a line and looked at the fire beyond, “Maybe we ought to think of something to escape our current holdings?”

Nick glared over at the fire, his common stubborn streak resurfacing, “Absolutely.”

~/~/~( )~~~

The moon lowered in a decent toward the western horizon, casting a parting darkness on the three young men in the pass before the sun began its awaited ascent into the sky. The gray light of dawn outlined the rocky borders of the pass, not quite reaching the men who still worked incessantly in clearing the blocked passage.

AJ paused in his work, looking up at the gray light while swiping a dusty arm across his sweaty brow, his hat having fallen to his back long ago. He let out a short breath and looked to his two companions beside him with tired brown eyes. Then with an exhausted sigh, he flopped lazily onto a nearby rock, his voice weary as he spoke, “’Ey, Kev? Ya think we’s got enough cleared ta get through?”

Kevin gave a strained groan as he wrestled a rock from the path, forcing it aside. That done, he leaned heavily on it and looked across at AJ with tired but determined green eyes, “It’s mornin’, AJ. We can’t waste anymore time, so I guess it’s good enough ta get by. Not too bad o’ terrain to lead the horses over.”

Howie gave a groan and collapsed to the ground, “I’m beat, an’ now we gotta go a’ridin’ in the saddle for God knows how long? Can’t we rest a bit?”

Kevin pushed away from the rock he leaned against and shook his head, “No, we’ve already given ‘em a head start. If we go now, we ought to atleast stay with ‘em somewhat. And we know where they’re goin’, so we don’t have to waste time trackin’. We can head after ‘em at a fast clip.”

AJ stared down at his hands and arms as the sunlight in the pass increased, seeing the bloody scrapes and dark bruises mingling in with all the dirt and dust. He flexed his fingers, wincing at the slight pain. He grinned tiredly, “Looks ta me we’ll be in your service, ‘D. Got some scratches from them damn rocks.”

Howie sighed, nodding, “Yeah, got me some o’ those, too.” He pushed himself off the ground with a groan, “C’mon, might as well get it done with so we can get a move on, eh Kev?”

Kevin didn’t answer and Howie turned to see him standing straight, his head turned up the pass, staring. Howie's brow furrowed and he glanced at AJ, who gave him a small shrug. Howie walked up to Kevin and tentatively touched his arm, jumping back when Kevin snapped to attention with a growl.

Kevin looked at Howie with renewed fire burning in his eyes, his flat when he spoke, “We go, NOW.”

Howie stood frozen as Kevin brusquely turned and headed back to where the horses were tethered, the healer eventually turning to AJ with wide eyes, “Christ, talk about a man havin’ mood swings.”

AJ let out a chuckle, shaking his head as he walked up to Howie, “I don’t think we’ve seen anything yet, ‘D. That there’s a stack o’ dynamite ready ta blow, he’s jus’ waitin’ for the right thing to set him off.”

Howie grinned tiredly, “I wanna see that show, should be damn interestin’.”

AJ smirked, “I think Branson done did himself in when he pushed the envelope by a’takin’ Brian, it’s pushed ol’ Kev over the edge.” AJ watched Kevin saddling up Blaze and shook his head, his smirk falling away to be replaced by a grim expression, “Lord help the man, ‘cause no one else’ll be able to when Kevin gets ahold of ‘im.”

Howie frowned and slowly nodded his head, then looked at AJ, “But who’ll help Kevin?”

AJ’s face hardened, the brown eyes narrowing, “We will, and anyone tryin’ ta stop us be damned. We’ll get Nick an’ Brian back, an’ get some of our own kicks in as well.”

They were silent for a minute and then AJ grinned and thumped Howie on the back, causing a cloud of dust to erupt from the soiled material, “Best get on our way, ‘D. ‘Fore Kevvy gets pissed.”

Coughing, Howie glared at AJ, waving a hand in the air in an effort to clear some of the dust cloud, “Damn it, AJ!”

With a laugh, AJ jumped away as Howie took a swing at him, taunting the healer as he ran to the horses. Howie cursed the tracker and took off after him, dust falling from both of them as they raced toward the horses.

AJ arrived first and slid to a stop at Kevin staring at him with menacing green eyes, arms crossed over his chest. He cleared his throat and tried to speak, but was suddenly propelled forward and onto the ground at Kevin’s feet. AJ craned his head around to see a puffing Howie glaring down at him, “Got’cha! Ya damned tracker!”

Howie then noticed eyes on him and looked up to see Kevin’s cold stare pinning him back, he swallowed. Then he bent over and picked AJ up, shoving the tracker toward his horse and then reaching his own, both silently tacking them up under Kevin’s angry eyes.

~/~/~( )~~~

Nick felt something hit him in the leg, hard. He snapped awake and went for his gun, only to come up empty handed. He forced his eyes open, his breathing short and quick as the sneering visage of Branson formed above him.

“Rise and shine, pretty boy,” he chorused in that grating voice of his, kicking Nick once again in the leg before walking away, his laughter rolling through the camp.

Nick shut his eyes as he fought to calm his breathing and racing heart. Why does everyone insist on wakin’ me up with violence? I’m gettin’ damned tired of it! With one last long breath, Nick peeled his eyes open and searched for Brian, finding him a few feet away and glaring at the retreating back of another of the outlaws. Nick cleared his throat, “Bad wake up call fer you, too?”

Brian tore his eyes from the man walking away from him and faced Nick. Nick winced, the deep red color that marred the gamber’s jaw answered his question. Brian flexed his jaw, bringing his bound hands up to massage the now tender area, “I guess you could say that.”

Brian got to his knees and crawled over to Nick, grunting as he settled beside the rebel. He turned to face Nick, “You all right?”

Nick nodded, pushing himself into a sitting position, “Feel ‘bout the same as last night, so at least I ain’t any worse... ...That’s good, ain’t it?”

Brian smiled and nodded, “I think so.” He stopped and reached forward to move Nick’s vest aside to get a look at his side and sighed with relief, “It didn’t bleed anymore, so I think you’ll be all right as long as you don’t do anything too strenuous.” Brian placed his hands on Nick’s forehead, “You’re a bit warm still, but not any worse than before. So... so far, so good.”

Nick scrutinized the gambler for a minute, then asked in a firm voice, “What about you? You look a bit... off, Brian.” Before Brian could stop him, Nick reached forward with his own hands and felt Brian’s face, frowning at the warmth he felt before Brian jerked away, “You’re sick! How long?”

Brian sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, “I’ve felt a bit... off, as you put it, since we settled camp last night. It’s nothing serious, I’m all right.”

Nick scowled, “Well, ain’t we a fine pair. Both of us are sick an’ hurt, both of us are prisoners, an’ both of us are in some deep shit! You sure that what we talked over last night is gonna work? Can’t we figure somethin’ out a bit sooner?”

Brian let out a long breath and looked at the ground, “I can’t think of anything else that could work and not get ourselves killed in the process. We have to face it, everything is out of our control here. There are six men guarding us right now and we are tied up, there is nothing we can do until Monument. Then perhaps what I foresee will work, but we must remember the others. They will most assuredly be right on our tails and concocting their own plan to get us out of this. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Nick turned his head up and let out a small moan, “God, this absolutely sucks!”

Brian chuckled, “I couldn’t of said it better myself.”

Nick smiled, then frowned as two men came towards them, coils of rope in their hands. Nick gave Brian a despairing glance, “Time to mount up an’ be on our way, Bri’.”

Brian nodded grimly and awaited the rough handling the men approaching would surely give out. The men stopped before them, the one before Brian speaking out, “C’mon, time to get back on the trail.”

Brian bit his lip as the man grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet, the damaged flesh of his shoulder protesting the roughness. As he was ushered to his horse, Joker, Brian looked back to see the other man pull Nick roughly to his feet. Brian could see the pain flash across Nick’s face at the movement, his tall form bending over in an effort to lesson the pull on his side.

Brian was forced to mount Joker and his feet were soon tied to the stirrups, then his bound hands were secured to the saddle horn. Brian watched as the other outlaw basically threw Nick onto Journey, the faithful horse snorting at the stranger so close to his personal boundaries and attempting to kick the man. The outlaw cursed and jumped away from the angered steed, glaring.

Nick gripped the saddle horn with both hands as his side burned as if on fire, eyes clenched tightly. He did not relish his upcoming ride to Monument. He sat mutely as the outlaw finally retained some of his nerve and approached Journey, soon tying Nick’s hands and feet to the saddle.

Branson rode up then on his own horse, his rough face glaring at the two young men he had to baby-sit. His gray eyes glinted as he barked his orders, “You boys behave an’ ya might arrive at Monument the same health wise as ya are now. So, for yer own benefit, don’t do nothin’ stupid!”

Then he spun his horse around and nodded to his men, who now had mounted their own horses. Two of them came forth and grabbed Joker’s and Journey’s reins, prepared to pony the animals.

Branson made one last look around and then nodded, “All right! Lets move on out! We ought to hit Monument by sundown.”

He then kicked his horse into a gallop and the others followed suit, Joker and Journey forced to follow the band in a cloud of dust. Brian and Nick could only hang on and hope the others would be there to help them when they made their attempt at escape.

~/~/~( )~~~

Kevin leaned low over his saddle, his arms outstretched as he urged Blaze on faster, Howie and AJ behind him doing the same. The ground flashed by them as they galloped out of the pass and toward Monument following the obvious tracks of the outlaws, the early morning sun now shining her full light upon them.

Only one thing ruled Kevin’s mind: Branson.

If the man died before Kevin arrived at his destination, then he had a guardian angel watching over him, because Kevin was on a mission to make him pay... pay dearly. Kevin’s hands tightened around the reins, his eyes flitting to check on the whereabouts of AJ and Howie before fixating back to what laid ahead of him.

Kevin inwardly fumed, his eyes that of green fire. It wasn’t enough that the man had taken his father away, he now took Brian. For no better reason then to get under his skin, to rattle Kevin in an effort to get him off his game and give Branson the chance to get the upper hand.

The bastard.

Kevin fairly trembled in his suppressed rage, wanting nothing more than to end the life of that animal. An animal who had shattered his very being with the callous actions he committed... Kevin blinked as the images of that night played out before his mind’s eye, the eyes of his father burned into his memory as the bullet ripped through his heart and took him away from Kevin forever. Kevin’s tortured green eyes glazed over as the memory of his home going up in flames filtered across his vision, the feeling of pain that lanced through him at the thought of his dead father inside the inferno... the agony of the past bullets in his side and shoulder rekindling so much that he released a hand from the reins and pressed it against his phantom injuries.

Kevin shook his head, wiping the hurtful memories away and placing them in a corner of his mind, ready to be called upon when he stood face to face with Branson... To use those memories to fuel his rage and finally end his long torment... finally end it all.

Kevin narrowed his eyes and urged Blaze still faster, the black horse responding and giving his man all he had. Kevin made a solemn vow: He’d get Nick and Brian back, then... ...then he’d take his vengeance and finally be free of all the pain... finally be able to live again.

~/~/~( )~~~

The sun sank low in the sky, reaching the end of the day as seven men galloped toward a homestead tucked in the valley of several grassy and tree laden hills. They rode up to the large white house, which was bordered by a large brown barn and several sheds, a large corral spanning the grassy knoll to their right.

Branson pulled his band to a stop and dismounted, signaling his men to stay astride as he walked into the house. Brian sat slumped in his saddle, the long ride having taken a toll on him and effectively wiping his reserve strength away. Nick sat astride Journey beside the gambler in much the same state, barely able to sit up in the saddle with the pain and exhaustion that racked his body. If he didn’t know that it would hurt so bad, he would have fallen from the saddle.

Nick sat with his eyes closed and head bowed, barely aware that they had arrived at their destination. Brian lazily surveyed their surroundings, taking in the layout of the homestead for future reference. He looked at Nick beside him and hoped the wound to his side hadn’t bled any in their long ride, having only stopped once briefly for lunch and to water the horses.

Brian switched his attention to the house as voices carried across the dry air toward him. He watched as Branson and another man conversed on the porch, the new man wearing what Brian could only describe as very expensive clothing. He wore a distinguished dark gray suit that fit his form as if it were personally tailored. When he turned to face them and walk down the porch steps to approach them, Brian could see a sharp looking face with dark brown, short cropped hair combed diligently in exact precision. The man Brian now assumed to be the contractor, made brief eye contact with Brian and revealed deep brown eyes that held a condescending sneer.

As the contractor and Branson neared them, their voices became louder and Brian noticed Nick straighten. Brian then heard a loud gasp from his young friend and turned to see Nick’s eyes wide and face pale in shock. He watched as several emotions flitted across the blond’s face: disbelief, anger, worry, and finally, grudging consent. Nick’s eyes slowly narrowed as Branson and the man stopped before them, the man grinning brightly at Nick. Nick stared hard at the man and spoke in what Brian could only describe as a low growl...

“Father.”

Note: Not yet beta read.



~/~/~( Chapter 9 )~~~


Brian’s mouth fell open, his blue eyes fixating on Nick’s rigid form beside him. Brian’s gaze flitted to the contractor as the man’s smile widened before again staring at his blond friend. Brian swallowed, hesitantly licking his lips, “Fa- father? ...Nick, he’s- he’s your...”

Nick soundlessly nodded his head, not taking his eyes off of his step-father standing before him. The man chuckled, “Glad you remembered me, boy. Thought you might’ve forgotten your dear ole dad.”

A muscle in Nick’s jaw jumped as he clenched it, grinding out in a low voice, “Never. I could never forget a low-life like you.”

The man laughed, his dark eyes twinkling in amusement as he looked to Branson beside him, “Cut ‘em loose and get them on the ground, they aren’t going anywhere.”

Branson gave a curt nod and stepped up to Brian, motioning to a couple of his men as he untied Brian’s hands. Soon Brian was untied and pulled from Joker’s back, a low grunt escaping his clenched teeth at the further abuse on his injured shoulder. As Brian stood in front of Joker, he watched as they pulled Nick from Journey, wincing himself as Nick gave a slight yelp of pain. Brian returned his attention to the contractor, his mind reeling at the information that the man was Nick’s father. It confused him slightly, as the man had totally different features and brown eyes and hair. So unlike Nick’s blond hair and blue eyes and, as much as the rebel tried to hide and deny it, baby faced features.

Nick rubbed his wrists and glared at his step-father, his hatred for the man brought to the forefront of his mind and dulling the pain in his side. As his step-father stared steadily back at him, Nick blinked and suddenly felt the memories of his childhood with the man surge wildly through his mind. All the yelling, the beatings, the hatred and disgust glaring from his step-father’s dark eyes. Nick shuddered involuntarily as the images rekindled his childhood fear of the man before him, not being able to stop himself from suddenly lowering his eyes, breaking off the eye contact.

The contractor smiled smugly, having seen the slightest flicker of fear in his step-son’s blue eyes before they looked away. He shook his head at the young blond man before him, his voice condescending as he spoke, “Ah, my boy. You surely have become a sorry excuse of a man, haven’t you? Just as well, I suppose.” The man sneered, his eyes narrowing, “I always knew you’d be good for nothing.”

Nick only ducked his head, while Brian narrowed his eyes in sudden anger. Brian took a step forward, only stopping as guns suddenly arose and aimed in his direction. He ignored them, his jeweled eyes sparking with malice as he glowered at this man that called himself Nick’s father, “Now you see here, Mister Whoever-the-hell-you-are. I don’t know you, but I do know Nick and he is worth far more than your ineffectual life, I can assure you of that. He is my friend and I’d not waste a moment in giving my very life for him.”

Nick’s head shot up and he stared at Brian, shock clearly visible on his face. Brian sent him a small smile and nod of assurance before returning his attention to the contractor, who had merely raised an eyebrow and eyed Brian.

“Really,” commented the contractor, looking Brian up and down, “So a gambler would die for my son. Hmmm... Well, that seems sufficient.” The contractor smiled, “And my name, young man, is Arlen Morgan. Now you are able to address me proper.” Arlen turned back to Nick, dismissing the gambler, “Well, my boy! Are you not curious as to why I have so ardently been searching for you?”

Nick merely put on the best glare he could manage as his emotions spun wildly inside him, which apparently wasn’t very effective as Arlen laughed, “Perhaps I shall help you in determining that enigma for you.”

Without turning away from Nick, Arlen snapped his fingers. Almost immediately, the front door of the house swung open and two small figures burst forth.

“Nick!” cried one, a young male voice.

“Oh, Nick!” cried the other, obviously female, “We’ve missed you!”

Nick’s face paled in shock once again and he fell to his knees, a wince briefly pulling at his face as his side flared in an instant of pain. His blue eyes never strayed from the two figures running toward him and he reached his arms out wide as they approached, their small forms immediately embracing him in a fierce hug. A blond head resting on each of his shoulders, Nick wrapped his arms tightly around them, closing his eyes as he whispered, “Aaron... Angel... I’ve missed you, too. I’m sorry I went away, so sorry... But... I had to. I just couldn’t stay.”

Aaron and Angel pulled back so they could see Nick’s face, their hands never relinquishing their hold. Nick’s composure crumbled at their young, tear streaked faces. He stared into their twin sets of brown eyes, his own blue eyes shimmering, “I truly am sorry, munchkins... Will- will you forgive me?”

Aaron nodded his head emphatically, his twin Angel biting her lip as she nodded in a more shy manner, her shoulder length blond tresses bouncing. Aaron’s voice was tearful as he finally worked past the lump in his throat, “We forgive you, Nick. We never hated you, just- just really missed you.” Aaron stopped and glanced away, then back at Nick’s pained face, “Nick-... ...I-it’s-... um...”

Nick frowned slightly, “What, munchkin?”

Aaron’s face crumbled and his voice came out as a wail, “Oh, Nick! Mama died!”

Nick looked as if he’d been slapped as Aaron and Angel burst into tears anew, both embracing Nick once again, their sobs echoing in his ears. Nick tightened his arms about his brother and sister, his eyes welling with tears as he looked at his step-father in disbelief.

Arlen nodded his head, his face a mask and not showing a bit of remorse, “Your mother, Jane Carter-Morgan, died a month ago of consumption.”

Nick shut his eyes tight, several tears falling free and sliding down his face. Arlen smiled widely and motioned to an elderly man beside him, dressed in a black suit, who had been the one to let the twins out and then followed them out into he yard. Arlen spoke to him when he saw he had his attention, “Take them back inside, and DON’T let them out of that room. Do you understand, Frederick?”

The elderly man nodded his head sadly, obviously not wanting to do as was ordered but not having a choice. Frederick walked to the three siblings and gently pried the twins away from Nick, “Come, young masters. You must return to the house.”

“No!” yelled Aaron, trying to maintain his grip on his brother, “I want to stay with Nick!”

Angel grabbed the old man’s sleeve, her brown doe-eyes begging up at Frederick, “Please, let us stay.”

“I’m sorry, we must go.”

As his brother and sister were taken from his arms, Nick stared up at the old man. He shook his head slightly, whispering in both disbelief and disappointment, “Frederick?”

As he backed away from Nick with the twins, Frederick nodded slightly, “Yes, Nickolas... I’m sorry.”

Nick sat back on his heels as Frederick took his brother and sister away, not diverting his stare until the front door closed and shut them from his sight. He couldn’t believe it... Aaron, Angel... they were here. Nick felt his control slip away as the next thought rolled through his mind ...Mother... With a muted cry, Nick hunched over and gripped his head in his hands, an overwhelming sense of loss crippling his slumped frame, “Oh, God... Mother...” he groaned from behind his hands, a sob catching in his throat, “Mama...”

Brian stood frozen, somewhat surprised as he felt his own heart pained at what his newly found friend must be going through. Everything that had just happened to Nick... His father, his siblings, his mother’s death... it was tremendous. Nick took the full load all at once, that was just too much at one time for anyone.

Brian glanced around at the men around him and watched them as he began to move toward Nick, not wanting to coerce them into anything drastic. Brian couldn’t believe the expression on Arlen Morgan’s face, the features vividly portraying enjoyment and satisfaction at the state of Nick’s distress. It boggled Brian’s mind that the man could be that cold-hearted, and to his own son.

Brian hesitantly approached Nick’s slumped figure, his eyes still furtively glancing about at the men that surrounded them for danger. Brian stopped at Nick’s side and gently rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder, feeling the slight tremors of grief coursing through the blond, “Nick?”

Nick didn’t move or acknowledge Brian, so the gambler tried again, kneeling beside him, “Nick? Are you all right?... ...Nick, you can trust me, remember?”

Without a word, Nick’s left hand suddenly shot out and he wrapped his fingers tightly around Brian’s wrist in a bruising grip, his shining blue eyes now boring into Brian’s, “Oh God, Brian... ...God, she’s gone... ...I’ll never see her again...”

Startled at first, Brian quickly recovered and moved his other hand upon Nick’s, squeezing it in support, his eyes squinting at the pain Nick was going through. He quickly searched his mind for an answer to help Nick, his breath leaving him slowly as he came to a decision. Nick had to be reminded of the whole picture of their situation, so he could distract himself from his grief, “I understand, Nick... But... you must remember that we have a bigger problem at the moment. We must get out of this, Nick, and I need you with me to do it...” Brian firmly gripped Nick’s hand, his jeweled eyes holding Nick’s gaze, “Are you with me?”

Nick stared back at Brian’s steady face, breathing in a trembling breath and holding it for a second before releasing it in a shaky sigh, “I’m with you, Brian, I’m with you.”

Brian smiled, “Good.”

“All right, enough of this,” announced Arlen in annoyance, reminding Nick and Brian of his presence. Arlen sent them a disgusted look before turning to Branson beside him, “Branson, take them to the barn and tie ‘em up good. I don’t want to lose my precious son so soon. At least... not until I get what I want.”

Branson chuckled, “Sure thing, boss. So... yer all right with the gambler? I thought it best to take him, too.”

Arlen nodded thoughtfully, “If you’re correct in saying Kevin Richardson is coming, yes. His cousin, as you related him, should be just the thing to hold him off. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to the only family he has left, now would he?”

Branson laughed, “Nope. I thought it was a good idea, I wouldn’t mind killin’ him though, just to rile Richardson.”

“No,” stated Arlen firmly, “Leave him untouched for now, if Mr. Richardson shows up... then we may afford some injury to Mr. Littrell.”

Branson grinned and thumped Arlen on the back, “I like yer thinkin’, boss!”

Arlen sneered and straightened his coat, “Don’t ever touch me again.”

Branson backed off at the warning tone, “Hey, no problem.” He turned to his five men, “Go on boys! Get ‘em settled!”

As Branson’s men grabbed and half walked, half dragged Nick and Brian to the barn beside the house, Arlen grabbed Branson’s arm. Arlen’s dark eyes seared into Branson’s grays, “You’re responsible for the gambler, not me. You’re the one that wanted him as bait for Richardson, so you take care of ‘im. You got me?”

Branson stared at Arlen for a moment, then nodded his head, “Got it. The gambler’s my extra baggage.”

Arlen released Branson’s arm with a rough shove, “Good.” As Branson walked to the house, Arlen looked down at his hand in disgust, lip turned up. Then with one last scowl, he briskly wiped it on his trousers. With a lingering look at the barn, Arlen let a smile turn his thin lips and then he turned and walked to the house.

~/~/~( )~~~

At that same moment, Kevin pulled back on the reins, Blaze snorting in response as he slid to a stop. The fine black animal danced and tossed its head as Kevin narrowed his eyes at the sight before him.

He dismounted as Howie and AJ slid to a stop beside him, his gaze not veering from what remained of Branson’s campsite. He walked toward the charred remains of the fire, stopping and crouching low to touch the black embers. He grimaced. They were cold.

“Hey, Kev?” called AJ tentatively, “Ya might wanna check this out.”

A pensive expression now on his face, Kevin stood and walked over to where Howie and AJ crouched, their eyes on the ground before them. His dark form loomed over them and AJ looked up. Kevin’s eyes were steady as he asked, “What?”

AJ looked back at the ground and reached out to touch a dark patch of the tan dirt. He pinched some of the discolored soil in his fingers and brought his hand before him. He stared at his hand and rubbed his fingers together, the tips turning a rusty red from the tainted dirt. AJ turned calm eyes upon Kevin’s dark presence, “Blood.”

Kevin’s stony stature seemed to darken even more at the single word, causing AJ to continue his narrative, his brown eyes back on the ground, “Can’t say fer sure it’s one of our boys, but seems ta me someone landed on the ground hard right here and another came toward him and kneeled beside him.” AJ shook his head slightly, “It don’t make sense that one of the outlaws would fall an’ have someone come stay beside him, let alone that the one that fell was bleedin’. It had to be Nick and Brian.” AJ shook his head, a frown on his face.

Howie knew the look and prodded the tracker, “What? AJ, you know what went on?”

AJ sighed and fell back on his rear, resting his arms on his knees and wearily pointing at the ground, “That there is horse tracks. Journey’s from what I can tell. That horse has an odd shaped left hind hoof, I’d spot it anywhere.” AJ pointed to another spot, where the dirt was unsettled quite a bit, “Right there ya got a bunch of boot prints, then the imprint of a body hittin’ the ground. The boot prints then walk toward the fire. These here boot prints,” AJ continued, pointing to yet another area of the disturbed dirt, “are Brian’s. None o’ them outlaws have fancy boots like that gambler, and he came from over yonder where there are more horse tracks and boot marks.”

Howie stared at AJ, “Which means...”

AJ took his hat off of his head and rubbed a hand through his unruly dark hair before replacing the headgear briskly, “I’d say they stopped to make camp last night and they yanked Nick off of Journey so that he fell to the ground an’ then left ‘im. Brian came over and helped him and stayed beside ‘im all night. They were a ways from the fire. Pro’bly had a cold night.” AJ looked up, “Nick’s the one bleedin’.”

Howie cursed softly, “He musta tore that flesh wound. Can’t see any other reason for it, that is if’n they didn’t hurt ‘im.”

Kevin visibly winced as he remembered Nick’s scream at Pike’s Peak. He shivered. Kevin’s eyes then grew dark, the green changing to a deep obsidian that shined in the setting sun’s orange glow. Pressing his lips together into a thin line, Kevin clenched his fist. He would savor his inevitable encounter with Branson.

AJ looked toward the setting sun in the distance and then up at Kevin’s silent form, “What now, Kev?”

For a few seconds, Kevin was silent, then he answered in a low voice, “We ride, through the night if we have to. We’ll figure out a plan once we find ‘em and know the situation.”

A breath later found them back astride and riding after the outlaws once more, their motions carrying a greater sense of urgency after the knowledge they had gained. Each of them had wanted to find their two friends safe and unharmed, though now they knew that atleast one suffered. Plus, in the back of all their minds burned a question they dreaded.

What if we’re too late?

~/~/~( )~~~

Brian squinted his eyes as he was roughly shoved into the dank, dusty barn. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from retaliation as the man behind him harshly threw him to the ground, although he did feel slight thanks that it had been on his uninjured side.

With a scowl on his face, Brian pushed his exhausted frame up and then scooted back until he felt the hard wood of a support beam at his back. His blue gaze glared up at the men as they soon shoved Nick down beside him, a low grunt of pain emitting from the blond man’s lips as he hit the unyielding, hard packed dirt floor.

Nick forced himself to sit up beside Brian, his vibrant eyes now dull in the dim lighting of the setting sun that streaked through cracks and small square windows in the barn’s walls and ceiling, like beams of tangible texture in the dust filled air.

“All right,” growled the tall blond, lanky outlaw, “Git yer backs against that beam real close, so’s we can tie ya to it.”

Grudgingly, Brian and Nick shuffled as close as they could to the beam at their backs, their glaring eyes never leaving the five men before them. The lanky man spoke again, addressing the heavy set, bearded man beside him, “Les, give Mac the rope. He can tie these bastards up, I don’t rightly think I could stop myself from hurtin’ the gambler, an’ the big boss man don’t want him hurt.” He sneered down at Brian, “Yet.”

Les laughed, sending a taunting glance at Brian, “Yeah, Kyle. I don’t know if I coulda stopped myself either... Say, ya think the boss’ll let us be the ones to knock ‘im around if’n he wants him hurt?” Les massaged the knuckles of his right hand, his dark eyes now glaring at Brian, “We need some pay back for that shit he pulled on us at that saloon back in Cripple Creek.”

Kyle grinned, thoughtfully massaging his chin with his fingers, “Hmm... That’d be right nice of Mr. Morgan, wouldn’t it? We bes’ put in the word that we’d be happy to oblige ‘im if’n he needs some fists to pound the gambler.” Shaking himself back to the task at hand, Kyle looked searchingly behind him at the three other men, “Mac! Damn it, get on over here and tie these guys up!”

Meekly, Mac came from the back of the room and took the rope from Les, never raising his eyes as he approached Nick and Brian. He kneeled behind them and cautiously glanced up at Kyle and Les, relieved to see them now laughing with the other men and not paying him much attention. Carefully, Mac took hold of Nick’s hands and began to tie them together behind the blond’s back. As he finished and reached for Brian’s hands, he whispered out in an almost inaudible voice, “I want you to know that I’m sorry this happened to you and that I don’t like it... ‘least, not anymore. Branson’s crazy and so are the rest of those guys. I never really wanted to be an outlaw, Branson jus’ kinda picked me up when my folks were killed a while back.”

Mac paused, having finished tying Brian’s hands. Slowly, he took what was left of the rope and looped it through their bound arms and around the wooden beam. He spoke again, very low, as he attached them to the beam, “I’ll try to help you escape, but I don’t really know what that Morgan fellow wants with you, Carter, so I can’t do anything right yet until I do. Yer friends should be headin’ here pretty quick, too. I left a bit of a trail for ‘em to follow.”

Mac tied off the rope and sat back on his heels, “I’ll be back,” he whispered, “Soon as I can help you out.” Mac then stood and walked back to the other outlaws, “All right, they’re tied.”

“Good,” sneered Kyle, then turned back to the other men, “C’mon, bet Branson and that Mr. Morgan are just waitin’ on us to join them in a little celebration! I don’t know about you fellers, but I could go for some drinks after that ride!”

The men voiced their agreement and they all left the dank, dusty barn, Mac leaving last and sending Nick and Brian one last look before disappearing out the large wooden door.

Nick let his head fall back against the wood beam as the door slammed shut, eyes closed. His head was beginning to ache persistently and he felt hot, his side beginning to feel numb. He sighed and spoke to Brian seated at his right side, “We jus’ might get out of this yet, Brian.”

Brian shifted his seat and nodded thoughtfully, unaware of Nick’s discomfort, “If what that Mac said is true, then yes. And, need I remind you, I still have my derringer.” Brian sighed, a smirk on his face, “I can’t tell you how many times that two shot gun has saved my life, I am quite fond of the little device.”

Nick lifted his head with a dry chuckle, turning to look at the man beside him with tired eyes, “I bet you are. It’s nice to know we got at least two bullets to throw at ‘em.”

Brian stared down at his legs stretched out before him, his voice low, “Yes, but there isn’t much I can accomplish while the arm affixed to the contraption is soundly secured by these most disadvantageous rope bindings.” Brian flexed his fingers and wrists as an example, grimacing as the rough twine rope chafed his sensitive skin.

Nick shook his head in defeat, again resting his head back on the beam, eyes gazing lazily at the ceiling far above, “Christ, Bri’. Ya know, you were actually understandable for this time I’ve been with you. Now, ya’ve gone back to all those fancy words. Can’t ya give it a rest? I don’t feel much like spendin’ time on figurin’ what the hell yer sayin’.”

Brian let out a small puff of air, a pleasant smile turning his lips, “I... erm, that is... Well, I guess I’m a little nervous at the moment. I mean, we are now at the footstep of our tormentor. I’m afraid I’m a little worried as to what he has in store for us.”

Nick jerked his head from its reclined position, wincing only slightly while fixing Brian with a moot question in his blue eyes, “Us? Don’t you mean me, Brian? I’m the one he wants.”

Brian sighed, “Yes, and I’m just the pawn in Branson’s corner to hold over Kevin’s head.” Brian scoffed, his eyes dark, “As if he would care one way or another.”

Nick let his lips part in confusion, his brow furrowing, “What? You think Kevin don’t care about you?”

Brian faced Nick with a wry, knowing expression, “Please, Nick. It’s not exactly a secret. Kevin doesn’t trust or like me. Hasn’t from the start.”

Nick stared at Brian for a moment, then looked away and shook his head, “Ya know, for a gambler and con man, you sure are blind as a bat’s rear end.”

Brian actually laughed, “Huh, haven’t heard that one before.”

Nick stared at Brian, “Brian, Kevin holds you to a different standard than the rest of us, I’m sure. Hell, when he figured out it was you Branson was gonna take care of in Cripple Creek...” Nick slowly shook his head, “He lit outta that barn quicker than a horse’s tail swats a fly.”

Brian looked thoughtful, then shrugged it off and bluntly changed the subject, “So, do you have an idea as to what your father wants with you yet?”

Nick’s face darkened in hate within a blink of an eye, causing Brian to blink in an effort to confirm the abrupt change. When Nick spoke, his voice betrayed the fury he held within, “He AIN’T my father.”

Brian’s face was overcome by blatant confusion, “Huh? But... but you said... an- and he said... ... ...huh?”

Nick’s expression was stoney, “He ain’t my father, he’s my STEP-father. I have no blood in my veins from that snake, and I thank the Lord above everyday for that small blessin’.”

Understanding cleared Brian’s eyes, “Ah, I see, but you haven’t answered my question. Do you know why he wants you?”

Nick shook his head, his dark countenance easing slightly, “No, I had a feelin’ all along that it was him, but I couldn’t figure a reason for him to want me that bad.” Resentment narrowed Nick’s eyes, “He never wanted me around before, he made that clear... painfully clear.”

Brian winced as what Nick implied hit him, his blue eyes dimming in sympathy. He knew not to say anything about it though, as Nick would immediately become rather defensive and surely. Brian was in no mood for that, so he danced around the subject, knowing his next words would effect Nick with an opposite emotion to his hate, “Perhaps it has something to do with your mother.”

Sadness immediately clouded Nick’s eyes as he turned away, his voice quiet, “I hope it doesn’t, she had enough grief while she was alive. She doesn’t need anything to haunt her beyond the grave, I just want her to rest in peace.” Nick closed his eyes and ducked his head, “I know I broke her heart when I left, but I just couldn’t stay there any longer.”

Brian frowned at Nick’s reactions to his questions, feeling somewhat responsible for churning the blond’s stressed emotions, “I’m just trying to figure out what has brought us here, Nick. You understand that, don’t you? I don’t mean to bring up your past like this, but I need to understand what is going on before we can even begin carrying out our escape.” Brian leaned forward and tried to gaze into Nick’s downcast face, “You understand, don’t you Nick?”

Nick inhaled deeply, his breath catching in his throat as his side seemed to wake from its numb state by sending a pain shooting through the tender area. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, working hard to conceal his pain from Brian and continue his appearance of normalcy even as his head’s dull ache began to escalate into a pounding throb. He blinked his eyes open and stared down at his lap, trying to get his vision to focus. Slowly, he released his held breath and made an effort to compose himself and answer Brian’s question, not looking up, “I understand, Brian, an-... and I’m sorry.”

Brian frowned, his expression caused by both Nick’s apology and the weakness he could hear in the rebel’s voice, “Sorry? For what? You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Brian,” Nick breathed, slowly raising his head to gaze wearily into Brian’s face, “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here right now. None of this woulda happened, it’s all my fault. Any way you look at it, it’s my fault we’re in this mess.”

Brian studied Nick, noticing how pale the rebel looked all of a sudden. He could tell Nick was not well, “Nick, it’s not your fault that some madman has decided to take it up with you, step-father or not. It’s not your fault. Nick,” Brian searched Nick’s face in concern, “Are you all right? You look horrible.”

“I’m fine,” Nick answered shortly, turning away, “Just got a bit of a headache.”

Brian scowled, knowing Nick was not telling the whole truth. He watched as Nick leaned his head back against the beam, the weariness clearly broadcasted in the sluggish movements, “Nick?” Brian leaned closer to Nick, their bodies touching at the shoulders and causing Brian to frown in greater worry. He could feel the heat of Nick’s now obvious fever through his clothes, “Nick? Come on, Nicky, answer me.”

Nick rolled his head on the beam to face Brian, his eyes hooded and face showing the slightest anger, “Do NOT call me Nicky, and I’m fine.”

Nick’s words were low and mumbled, Brian watching as the hooded eyes slid closed and the pale face went slack in either sleep or unconsciousness. Brian sighed and leaned heavily back against the beam, his eyes watching as the beams of light that shone into the dusky barn diminished as the sun ducked below the horizon and night took hold of the country side.

Brian closed his eyes and tried to find a position comfortable enough to allow him some respite to sleep. He opened his eyes to look at Nick’s motionless face, the moonlight streaking into the dark barn reflecting off the fine sheen of sweat that covered the blond’s face, the pale light causing Nick’s color to appear gray.

Brian closed his eyes with a sigh, whispering, “I believe our escape has just become a little more complicated, Nicky.”

~/~/~( )~~~

Arlen sat in the stiff chair with a glass of whiskey in his hand, his dark eyes sneering at the rowdy men carousing before him, drinking and laughing in the living room he resided in. He shook his head and sipped at his drink, glancing up as Frederick stepped up beside him. He rotated the half full glass in his hands as he asked, “What can I do for you, Frederick?”

The old man frowned, “Masters Aaron and Angel are in their room, sir. I was wondering if I may be able to feed them, and then if I may procure some food for your... guests in the barn.”

Arlen frowned, “You may feed the twins, but I don’t know about the others.”

Frederick worried his bottom lip as he thought quickly, “They need nourishment if you are to have them in any condition to do what you ask. Nickolas did not look too good to me, and I was under the impression that you wanted him alive. He will not stay that way without proper care.”

With a short sigh, Arlen nodded his head, “Fine, feed them, but nothing else... And keep them two brats quiet and in that room. Understood? I can’t stand the sight of them.”

Frederick had to steel his anger as he nodded shortly as he turned to leave, “Yes, sir.”

Frederick felt dreadful at what had become of his family, granted it had never been very pleasant since Miss Carter had married Mr. Morgan. The man was all about himself and money, that was all that mattered. Frederick quickly presented the twins with their food and left them alone, he just couldn’t bare their solemn and dejected young faces.

As he headed out the door into the cool night with two plates of food, one outlaw accompanying him by order of Arlen, Frederick smiled slightly as his thoughts drifted to Nickolas. The boy surely had grown up. He remembered sadly all the times he had had to comfort and patch up the boy when Mr. Morgan had beaten him. Frederick had always harbored fatherly feelings for the boy, having practically raised him, and when he said he was leaving, it was he that had helped him escape. He felt he had owed the boy at least that much.

Sighing, Frederick allowed the outlaw to open the barn door and then walked into the dim barn. He frowned deeply as he saw the two forms on the floor of the cool barn. He quickly went to them and set the plates aside as he kneeled his old body before them. He put a hand on one of each of their shoulders and shook them, trying to rouse them. The gambler awoke with a gasp, pulling away from his grip and staring at the old man with wide blue eyes, a wince of pain pulling his features.

Frederick’s brow furrowed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were injured.”

Brian just looked at him in suspicion, “I am perfectly fine. What do you want?”

Frederick gestured to the plates, “I brought you some food.” His weathered face switched to Nick, his hand moving to the blond’s face, “Nickolas... Nickolas, wake up.”

With a soft moan, Nick turned his head, his brow furrowing as he tried to wake. Then, his eyes split open and he stared at the elderly man before him with surprise, then disappointment, “Frederick... Why?”

“I’m sorry, Nickolas. I have no choice. He has threatened the lives of Aaron and Angel if I don’t do as he says.” Frederick ducked his head slightly, “I truly am sorry, Nickolas. You must know that.”

Rather reluctantly, Nick nodded. He sighed, his head was killing him and the pain in his side just seemed to go on forever. He stared at Frederick in frustration, “What does he want, Frederick? What the hell does he want from me?”

Brian looked at Frederick and listened intently, he wanted the answer just as bad as Nick. Frederick sighed, “I think it may be best if you hear it from him, Nickolas. He’ll be here tomorrow morning to discuss it with you.”

Frederick turned to the outlaw, “Please, untie them so they can eat.”

The man nodded and untied the two, who rubbed their sore wrists in an effort to return the feeling in their hands. Brian caught Nick’s eye while flexing his right arm. Nick looked to Frederick and back sharply, barely shaking his head. Brian lowered his eyes, Nick didn’t want Frederick to get hurt by what could happen if Brian pulled the derringer now.

Resolutely, Brian reached for his plate and began to eat. God, he was hungry. He didn’t realize how much until that moment. The outlaw moved to lean against the door and watched, a rifle resting in his arms. Nick mostly picked at and ate little of the food, his stomach turning at the prospect of eating more than a small amount. What he was, was thirsty.

Nick looked up at Frederick, “Water?”

Frederick nodded and reached for the canteen he had over his shoulder, uncorking it before handing it to Nick, who readily took a hardy swallow. Nick passed it to Brian when he was finished and the gambler drank his fill, now finished with his meal.

Frederick collected the plates, not missing the amount of food Nick had left. He studied the young man he considered a son and frowned, he had felt Nick’s fever when he had touched his face. God, how he hoped Mr. Morgan would leave Nick alone when he got what he wanted. As he stood, he watched as the outlaw once again tied the two up and he looked long and hard at Nick and Brian, his voice coming out soft, “You’ll get through this, I know you will.”

With that said, Frederick walked to and out the door. The outlaw glanced at the two and said blandly, “I’m gonna be right outside this door, so don’t even think of tryin’ anything.” Then he, too, left the barn.

As Frederick walked back to the house, he had a feeling of being watched and stopped. His pale green eyes scanned the crest of the hill in the distance, the night not affording him much distinction. After a second longer, he shook his head and continued on into the house.

~/~/~( )~~~

Kevin sighed from where he laid on his stomach on the grassy hill, watching as the old man continued on to the house, his eyes then glancing back to the barn where a lone outlaw stood armed. He looked to his side at AJ and Howie, who laid on the ground to his left, nodding his head back in an indication to move away from the edge of the grassy hill.

As they crawled away from sight and toward the copse of trees where their horses were tethered, Kevin heard distant loud talking and paused. He looked back down over the hill’s edge and swore softly, watching as Branson and his other four men settled on the porch of the house, two of which going to join the lone man at the barn door. Damn it, that changes everything.

He shook his head and crawled back to where AJ and Howie now stood beside the horses. With a frown, he stood and then crossed his arms, “We can’t do anything tonight. That lone guard just turned into three and Branson and his two other men are on the porch. We’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow an’ see what we can do then.”

AJ nodded, “Ya think the barn’s where they’re keepin’ ‘em?”

“Yeah,” nodded Kevin, uncrossing his arms, “No other reason for ‘em to guard it like that.”

Howie pushed his hat up, “Then our main concern is ta get to the barn. We’ll get Nick and Brian out, then we can worry ‘bout them outlaws.”

Kevin rubbed his chin in thought, “I figure they’ll not have as many guards in daylight. They’re bound ta be more nervous at night when they can’t see nothin’.” Kevin turned toward the small farm, noticing another copse of trees a couple hundred feet from the left front of the barn, “Let’s see if we can get on over to them trees, that way we’d be closer come daylight. We’ll have a heck of a time if’n we try at daylight, it’s too much of a clearing between here an’ there.”

Leading the horses, they walked away from the edge of the hill and then around toward where the trees stood. The hill sloped down as they approached them and they slowed their pace as they neared the barn, knowing they were slightly visible to the guards. Finally, they reached the concealing depths of the trees and worked their way deeply into them to get some distance from the barn.

They tethered the horses and took their saddles from their backs, Kevin setting his on the ground end up so he could lean his back against it as he sat down. Silently, they all bedded down and pulled their blankets from their saddle bags to ward off the chill of the night. There would be no fire tonight, not it they wanted to keep their presence hidden.

Silence encompassed their group, the only sounds being the distant occasional laughing of the outlaws. The three men each feigned sleep, each lying awake and staring up at the night sky waiting for the sun to makes its appearance.

Kevin let his own kind of fire warm him that night, letting it burn bright green in his eyes. He could feel the anticipation of finally putting his haunting demons to rest surging through his veins. Tomorrow would be his day of reckoning. As he narrowed his eyes in hate, Kevin let his mouth turn in a vile grin that would have sent most men running. Branson won’t live to see his next night.

Note: Not yet beta read.



~/~/~( Chapter 10 )~~~




The gray light of dawn broke over the grassy land, casting an opaque hue that dulled the landscape’s vivid green color. A lazy fog floated at the edge of the hills, slowly retreating in the morning light and back to the mountains in the far distance. The countless drops of dew on the still grass sparkled in the gray light, the hills glittering as the sun slowly peaked over the horizon. The lone white house and weathered barn shone with a glaze of thawing early morning frost, the scene creating an eerie tranquility of silent stillness.

Shadows melted in and out of the trees just beyond the barn, the movements ghostly in the dull morning air. A dark figure slowly took shape behind a shrub and tree. The shadowed face glared upon the barn and house, green eyes glowing in an intense stare beneath a black, low crown hat that had a shimmer of silver covering its surface from the dew that clung to the tough leather.

Kevin frowned and glanced back at Howie and AJ, who had each taken up similar positions behind the foliage and shadows. While Howie had shed his coat and vest, leaving him in his gray cotton shirt with the knives crisscrossing his back in plain view, AJ had kept his long buckskin coat upon his lithe frame, the cape like coat flowing silently about his legs as he moved. Kevin had shed his long dark coat and stood in only his close fitting black western shirt and jeans, spurs absent from his black boots. He pressed closer to the rough tree and observed the scene before him.

Three men still stood at the entrance to the barn. One stood tall, save for a slight slouch, with a rifle cradled in his arms across his chest. His eyes lazily scanned the landscape, fatigue obvious in his features. The other two were less alert. One leaned back against the barn, head hanging low and rifle pointed toward the ground in a loose grip. The other stood with one arm braced on his rifle that now served the man better as a cane than a weapon, head listing on his opposite shoulder and mouth ajar, emitting a garbled snore periodically.

The house stood solitary in the morning light, the two remaining cowboys asleep, one sprawled on the worn porch steps, the other draped across the rickety porch swing. An eerie squeak strained from the rusty chains as the swing swayed slightly in the lazy breeze.

A slow, sinister smile curved Kevin’s lips at the sight. Piece of cake, he thought, eyes sparking. Without relinquishing his stare upon the farm, Kevin used his hand to motion Howie and AJ closer. When the dark gunslinger felt them stop beside him he spoke, still not taking his eyes off the lazy scene, “We’ll go for the barn, take ‘em quiet and quick. No guns. We get in the barn and then-” Kevin broke off suddenly, silent for a moment before uttering a short curse, “Shit.”

All three watched as a smartly dressed man they hadn’t seen before, the old man that came from the barn the night before, and Branson stepped upon the house’s porch. The old man and the stranger worked their way down the porch steps, the stranger kicking the sleeping outlaw awake, and then they walked to the barn.

The distinct sound of Branson cursing at his men on the porch, jerking them awake, was carried across to the barn. The sound snapped the three outlaws alert, just in time as the stranger and old man approached them. One moved quickly to open the barn door, letting the pair enter, before shutting it behind them. All of the gang was now awake and alert.

Howie let his shoulders sag. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought, many people were probably going to die. He just prayed it wasn’t one of them. He glanced at AJ’s dark countenance and then looked to Kevin, frowning at the bowed head. Howie placed a hand on the tense shoulder, “Kevin...”

“I’ll think of somethin’,” came the low growl, Howie’s hand being roughly shrugged off, “We’ll get ‘em out.”

Howie could feel the anger the dark gunslinger emanated and took a step back. People are definitely going to die this day.

~/~/~( )~~~

A hand shaking his shoulder and an urgent, unfamiliar voice broke through Brian’s sluggish mind. Slowly, he was pulled from his deep sleep. He cracked open his blue eyes to focus in on the elderly man of the night before, the sight retrieving the memory of where he was.

“Mr. Littrell,” spoke the old man, Frederick? That was what Nick had called him, “Please, Mr. Morgan wishes to speak with the two of you but,” the frail sounding voice faltered, “I cannot wake Nickolas.”

Brian’s eyes lost all remnants of sleep, his gaze moving to Nick’s visage beside him. His southern features clouded at the pale, slack face, “Nick?” Brian nudged him with his shoulder. Nothing. Brian looked to Frederick and then Arlen Morgan, his eyes portraying a foreign pleading look, “Please, untie me. I might be able to wake him if my hands are free.”

Arlen scowled, but considered the request. Finally, he nodded his head. As Frederick untied Brian, Arlen went to the door and retrieved one of the guards. The outlaw now stood at the door, rifle at the ready if Brian tried anything.

The southerner noticed this, but was too busy rubbing his hands to regain feeling in them. He looked to Nick and reached out, his hand touching Nick’s forehead and feeling the heat of a fever. Brian shut his eyes briefly, frowning, then fixed his stare on Nick’s closed eyes as he gently slapped the pale cheek. When he spoke, his southern drawl was urgent and soft, “Nick... Nick, you must wake up...” His other hand moved to shake Nick’s shoulder, “It’s Brian, Nick. I need you to wake up... Please, my friend...”

Nick groaned at those last words, brow furrowing. He took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he peeled his eyes open, the blue depths bright with fever. He stared openly at Brian, recognition slowly dawning. Brian could only then watch as the panic quickly arose in Nick, the memories of their situation emerging. Nick abruptly straightened from his slumped posture against the support beam, a gasp stealing his breath away as his side flared in hot pain. He moaned and let his head fall back against the beam, eyes closing.

“Take it easy, Nick,” soothed Brian, a helpless expression on his face. He shot a look up as Arlen approached. He winced at the look on the sick man’s face.

“Glad you could join us, Nick,” smirked Arlen, chuckling as Nick snapped his eyes open and tensed. Arlen waited until the guarded blue eyes locked with his before continuing, “I thought it was time to enlighten you of why you’re here.”

Nick scowled, his voice hard and strained, “I’m here because you brought me here.”

Arlen’s face darkened at the sarcastic reply, “Listen here, boy. You don’t take that tone with me. You know what will happen if you continue.” He smiled as Nick visibly flinched, “That’s right. Now, Frederick here has something for you.”

Nick’s eyes were wary as Frederick reached into his coat, pulling out a handful of papers. Frederick made to give them to Nick, but when Nick quirked an eyebrow and raised his shoulders, emphasizing his tied hands, Frederick looked to Arlen, “Sir?”

Arlen sighed, visibly exasperated, “Yes, fine. Untie him.”

As Nick now massaged his numb hands, Frederick handed him the papers. Nick took them, scowling as he watched his hands tremble. Trying to still them, he concentrated on the documents. His eyes slowly widened, what little color he had left in his face draining away. Nick’s mouth opened, then closed. He brought shocked eyes up to his step-father’s scowling face, “Me?”

Anger clouded Arlen’s face at the whispered word, “Yes, you! You, the God-forsaken brat of hers! You, of her blood and some other bastard’s! You,” Arlen narrowed his eyes, “the one who ran away.”

Nick flinched as if struck at the last comment. Brian furrowed his brow from where he kneeled watching, afraid to add his voice lest it cause them to stop. He wanted to know why this was happening to Nick. He looked back to Arlen as he spoke again.

“You, she left it all to you,” Arlen sneered, “After all I went through to get it, and she gives it to you! I was so close! It was mine, in my hands! And she leaves it all to you!”

Nick reeled from the information. His mother, she had willed it all--the estate, the money, the entire inheritance, everything--she had left it all to him. But, why? I ran away... I abandoned her. Why did she give it to me? Nick didn’t understand.

Nick’s confusion must have shone on his face, because Arlen exploded, “You want to know why, don’t you! I’ll tell you why... So I wouldn’t get it!! The little bitch was more perceptive than I thought. I was so sure I had her fooled, but she knew why I married her. Maybe not at first, but she figured it out. The damn bitch had it planned for years!”

Brian had to stop the smile that wanted to appear on his face. Arlen had been conned by the woman he thought he had conned. Now, Nick held all that he had worked to get and it shocked the stupid man. Brian shook his head, the man who was Nick’s step-father was a con man. Brian’s eyes saddened, Just like me... Then Brian’s face hardened, No, I would never do what this man did. I wouldn’t ruin a family, the love between Mother and son, just for money. That was going too far...

Pure rage slowly took away Nick’s shock at Arlen’s words, his eyes burned with hate as he lunged at the man, “You son of a BITCH!!”

Nick collided with Arlen’s legs, tackling the surprised man to the hard dirt floor. Teeth clenched in hate and pain, Nick scrambled to get at the man’s face. Never before had he wanted to beat a man so badly, but just when he was about to bring his fist down, he was grabbed roughly by the shoulders and thrown back. Nick grunted as his back slammed into the wooden beam, his form then collapsing to the ground. He shut his eyes as he rolled onto his side and curled up, hands clutching his wounded side as he let out a groan of pain.

Brian quickly moved to his side, placing his hands on Nick’s shoulders, “Nick! ...Nick,” called Brian softly, worriedly, “Are you okay? Nick?”

Brian relaxed back as Nick managed a nod, though the young blond did not move from his position. Brian turned to glare at the outlaw that helped Arlen up. Brian had almost ejected his derringer at Nick’s attack, but he didn’t want to hit Nick. He had to stay aside, and it caused anger to rise within him. Brian wanted to kill Arlen Morgan. The man was lower than dirt.

“Not a smart move, Nickolas,” ground out Arlen, straightening his coat as he glared down at Nick and Brian, “Not smart at all.”

The outlaw cocked his rifle, eyes watching the two prisoners as he stood at Arlen’s side. Frederick had a hand pressed against his chest, shock written in his eyes as he looked from Brian and Nick to Arlen. Things were getting out of control.

“Now,” began Arlen, as if nothing had happened, “the reason you are here is, I need you to sign a simple contract that will change the beneficiary of the inheritance to…” Arlen smiled widely, “me.”

“No!” Nick growled, wrapping one arm around his middle while using the other to force himself up to a sitting position. He glared up at Arlen, his voice final, “No. I won’t sign it.”

Arlen’s smile fled, his face turning cold as well as his tone of voice, “Let me rephrase that. You will sign this contract, or your companion here will die.”

Nick’s eyes shot to Brian, then back to Arlen. The outlaw pointed his rifle at the gambler. Brian shut his eyes. He knew Arlen would do this.

Nick bit his lip, he couldn’t let Brian die just for money. Money held nothing to a life, especially when that life was a friend. Nick’s face fell, his eyes defeated as he spoke, “Fine. I’ll sign it.”

Arlen’s smile returned, oddly resembling the cat that ate the canary, “Good. Very good.”

As Nick reluctantly signed the papers, Arlen inwardly laughed. His stepson had a soft spot for the gambler, they were friends. Arlen’s smiled turned into a smirk, his eyes flitting to the outlaw that held the gun aimed at Brian’s heart.

Nick finished, shoving the papers at Arlen’s feet. Frederick stooped to retrieve them, his eyes sad as he stood beside the armed outlaw. Arlen nodded, “Thank you, Nick. Now, say good-bye to your friend.”

Brian’s and Nick’s eyes widened. Nick shook his head, “What?! No! You- you said…”

“And you believed me?” laughed Arlen, “Foolish boy.” Arlen nodded to the outlaw.

The outlaw smiled and then a gunshot echoed through the morning air from the barn.

~/~/~( )~~~


Kevin’s eyes shot up, locking on the barn as the shot’s report echoed around them, “What the hell?!”

“Shit,” breathed AJ, staring at the sterile barn as if it just exploded. He looked down, face twisting, “Aw... shit.”

Howie shook his head, refusing to believe what he heard, “They’re okay... They gotta be...”

Kevin seethed with rage as he stared upon the ranch, his eyes blazing at the outlaws at the barn’s entrance. Then, he looked at Branson and felt something snap inside him. He spoke to AJ and Howie in a low, dangerous tone, “Take the barn, I got the house. Now, go!”

Kevin ran toward the house, his green gaze fixed on the small shed to the right front of the porch. Kevin’s dark silhouette almost floated through the trees as bands of morning sun broke through the shadows and reflected off the dew that clung to his clothes and hat.

“Kevin!” Howie half hissed, half shouted, shaking his head when there was no response. Howie looked at AJ beside him, “The damn fool is gonna git himself killed! He ain’t thinkin’ straight.”

AJ glanced a Kevin’s retreating back, then looked back at Howie, “Cover him, ‘D. I got the barn. Don’t worry, we’ll all be all right.” AJ shoved Howie in the direction of the house, “Go on.”

Howie stared at AJ for a moment, then nodded his head. Howie checked his gun and then darted after the man in black. AJ leaned back against a tree and took in a deep breath, then looked to the barn. He cocked his mare’s leg, then glanced at Howie and Kevin, who were just leaving the cover of the trees. Pushing away from the tree, AJ silently trotted toward the barn.

~/~/~( )~~~

Mac blinked to wake himself up. He was dead tired. He wondered when Nick and Brian’s friends would arrive so he could finally be out of Branson’s gang. He shifted his feet and leaned against the barn. Then, the other outlaw with him straightened. Mac looked around and moved closer to the other outlaw.

“What?” Mac whispered.

“Someone’s in those trees, he’s comin’ this way,” the outlaw said, raising his rifle. He looked down the barrel and smirked, “I got him.” He cocked the gun, but paused when another gun being cocked echoed around him. He glanced behind him to see Mac pointing his rifle at him.

“Best you give me that gun,” toned Mac.

The outlaw stood frozen for a moment, then he spun around to try and shoot Mac, but Mac pulled the trigger before he had the chance. Mac watched the outlaw fall, then he looked to see AJ staring at him. AJ tipped his hat at Mac in thanks, then he disappeared behind the barn.

Mac took a deep breath, then ran and grabbed his horse from the hitching post at the barns far side. With one last look at the farm, Mac rode away.

~/~/~( )~~~

Branson was leaning against one of the porch beams, his eyes hooded as he slowly began to fall asleep. That damn Mr. Morgan’s fancy hooch they had drank last night had given him a monster hangover. The echo of the shot coming from the barn caught his attention and he frowned. Mr. Morgan had told him to expect one gunshot. That was two. Something was wrong. Then the wood at the side of his face exploded and snapped him completely awake with wide eyes, the hangover now the least of his worries.

“Oh, shit!” he strangled out as Kevin’s undeniable silhouette emerged from the trees by the barn. He quickly whipped his gun from the holster and fired a wild shot at the dark shadow while backing to the house’s front door. He fired one more shot and then slung the door open and fell inside, splinters flying as a bullet from Kevin’s gun imbedded in the door where his head was a second before.

Branson scrambled on hands and knees, one hand off the floor with his gun still in its grasp, towards the window. He collapsed against the wall, his back against the hard wood as his two cohorts finally clambered through the door.

The burly, bearded man fell back against the door as the lanky blond crawled to the other window. “Jesus Christ!” gasped the burly man, “I thought we had lost them!”

“Them?” shouted Branson, ducking reflexively as a bullet shattered the window above him, “Les, I only saw Richardson.”

Les shook his head as the lanky blond broke the glass of his window with his gun, then taking a shot out of it as he answered the question instead of Les, “Yeah, well, I had a shot at Richardson but that Spaniard came outta the trees and took a shot at me. I’d say they’re all here.” He risked a glance out the window, “Don’t know where that tracker is, though.”

“Kyle and me got in here after you when it got too hot out dere,” added Les, sending Branson a glare. “You sure didn’t waste any time runnin’ in here, Branson.”

Branson set his other gun beside him as he got on his knees and crouched beside the window. He caught a glimpse of black beside the empty shed to the house’s right front and fired off a shot, “Richardson wants my head on a platter, Les. He was gunnin’ for me and still is. So, yeah, I moved my ass outta the way.” Branson cocked his gun again and aimed it at Les, a dark glimmer in his gray eyes, “You got a problem with that?”

Les drew back, eyes wide, “No way, Branson. I’m good. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Branson switched his aim to the window, “Good, now start shootin’ at the bastards!”

Les mutely nodded his head and ran to and up the stairs. He dropped to his knees before a window and lifted it open. He gingerly looked out and then grinned at his clear view of the dark gunslinger crouching behind the shed in front of the house below. Les cocked his gun and aimed.

~/~/~( )~~~

The gunfire barely reached the attention of the people within the barn, they caught in their own struggle to stay alive.

Brian was breathing hard, his derringer aimed steadily at Arlen’s heart. The gambler had one bullet, the other having disappeared within the outlaw’s gun arm. The wounded man was on his knees and clutching his bleeding forearm, his rifle laying on the ground before him, unfired. Arlen stood frozen, shock clearly visible on his face as he stared down the barrel of the small gun.

“Don’t... move...” gasped the gambler, trying to calm his racing heart. Brian glanced at Nick, seeing the blond trying to get to his feet. Returning his eyes to Arlen, Brian carefully stood and then reached over to help Nick.

Nick gained his feet with the gambler’s help, Brian’s free arm remaining around his waist for support. Arlen suddenly smiled, listening to the gunfire volleying outside, “Come now, Mr. Littrell. You have nowhere to go. My men will shoot you down the moment you step out that door.”

Brian glanced behind them and saw the back door, he looked back at Arlen, Frederick standing forgotten to the side, “I doubt your men will be at the back door of this building, Mr. Morgan. Now, if you stay right where you are, we’ll just step outside and catch a bit of fresh air.”

As Brian began backing toward the door, towing Nick’s stumbling form with him, Arlen scowled. Then, unexpectedly, Arlen grabbed Frederick by the arm and pulled the old man in front of him, a gun suddenly in his hand and pressed beside the old man’s head.

“Stop right there,” Arlen growled, “You go out that door and the old man bites it.”

Nick straightened, staring at the two with wide eyes, “Let him go.”

Arlen smirked, “Give me your lives, and I’ll consider it.”

As Nick blinked at the scene, Brian narrowed his eyes at a soft noise. Glancing away from the standoff before him, Brian scanned the barn’s ceiling and walls, catching the barest movement at one of the small windows in the ceiling. Then, he heard the softest scuffle above him in the loft, not too far away from the trap door standing open above Arlen. Brian let a smirk fall on his features as he stared at Arlen, How very convenient.

“Give me that peashooter, gambler,” sneered Arlen, “You ain’t got anywhere to go.”

“No,” stated Brian flatly, staring directly into Frederick’s shocked features. If Frederick was seeing straight, he swore the gambler was asking him to trust him. Not knowing what to do, Frederick gave him a slight nod.

Nick pushed out of Brian’s hold, fixing him with hard eyes, “What are you doin’, Brian? Give him the damn gun! He’ll kill Frederick!”

“Yes,” snarled Arlen, tightening his hold on the old man, “Take my soon to be dead step-son’s advice, Mr. Littrell. It’s time to give it up, the game’s over and I’ve won.”

Brian shook his head, raising his derringer to bare aim at Arlen’s forehead. Nick tugged at Brian’s arm, the fever shining brightly in his blue eyes, “Brian, please... I can’t let Frederick die ‘cause of me... He was the only one that ever helped me... Brian, please...”

Arlen narrowed his eyes, his voice low, “I will count to three, and if you have not relinquished that gun to my possession by then, Frederick dies.” Arlen quirked an eyebrow at Brian as he counted, the gambler looked far too calm, “One... Two... Thr-” Dust and pieces of straw suddenly floated down on top of Arlen, “What the hell?” Arlen squinted above him and only hand time to widen his eyes before a huge shape came crashing down on top of him.

Arlen, Frederick, and something else collapsed to the ground. A dark form sprang to his feet, the buckskin coat giving the figure an identity.

AJ smiled down at Arlen’s gasping form. He picked up Arlen’s handgun and winked, saying in a haughty tone, “Three.”

“AJ!” screamed Brian’s southern accented voice in warning. AJ spun around, raising Arlen’s handgun to bare as a shot rang out.

The outlaw gasped, the rifle falling from nerveless fingers as he collapsed, face first, to the hard dirt floor. AJ quirked an eyebrow at Brian, who pocketed his now empty derringer. AJ nodded to him, “Thanks, pard’.”

“We’re even,” replied Brian, then his attention flew to Nick as he cried out.

“Arlen!” Nick moved forward, but stumbled and Brian had to lunge to stop him from falling, “Damn it!” gasped Nick, gritting his teeth, “He’s gettin’ away!”

AJ spun around again, just in time to see Arlen’s boot heels as they disappeared out the door. AJ threw Arlen’s handgun to Brian, who caught it as he pulled out his mare’s leg and grasped the door, “That bastard’s slipperier than a greased up pig.” AJ tossed Brian a glance, “Get the kid outta here, I’ll get after Mr. Uppity.”

At the nod from Brian, AJ slipped out the door. Brian looked at Nick, “I think you should sit down before we extricate ourselves from these unstable dwellings.”

As Nick sagged to the ground, he weakly pushed at Brian, “I’m fine. What about Frederick, is he okay?”

“I-I’m fine, Nickolas,” came a shaky, old voice. Frederick crawled to the blond’s side, “I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Ain’t yer fault,” toned Nick, then closed his eyes with a groan, “Somebody make the room stop spinnin’.”

A scoff escaped Brian’s throat, “Fine, huh? No one will be fine until we all leave.”

~/~/~( )~~~

Peering around the tree he crouched behind, Howie glanced up as a flash of sunlight caught his eye. He gasped when the source turned out to be the gleam of a gun’s barrel in the second story window. Then, Howie realized he didn’t have a shot at the outlaw and he could only shout a warning to his friend.

“Kevin!” The dark figure’s hat turned in the healer’s direction, “Twelve o’clock high!!”

Without looking, Kevin understood and in a desperate move, he whipped open the shed’s door and dove inside. As he fell to the ground within, Kevin heard the bullet thunk into the wood where he stood a moment before. Kevin scrambled back and kicked the door shut with his boots, taking a deep breath.

Carefully, Kevin picked himself up. That was too close. Now standing, Kevin quickly checked his guns. He scowled when he found a total of five bullets between the two and he was out of extra ammo. Then, Kevin took a moment to take in the shed’s interior. The color slowly drained from his face.

“Oh, shit.”

~/~/~( )~~~

Branson nearly laughed out loud. Maybe he did have some good luck in this. He turned to Kyle, “Grab the lantern and light it, Kyle.”

Confused, Kyle did as told. Branson nodded in the direction of the stairs, “Get on up them stairs and give the lantern to Les. He’ll know what ta do wit’ it.”

Kyle just nodded, running up the stairs, soon to return a couple minutes later. He went back to his post at the other window. Branson smirked, “Now, jus’ sit back and watch the show.”

~/~/~( )~~~

Kevin backed up a step. What the hell was he gonna do? The shed was filled with barrels of gunpowder. He jumped at a crashing sound above him. Soon, a very familiar crackling noise reached his ears.

“Ah, shit,” he muttered, “Shit, shit, shit. The roof’s on fire.”

Kevin’s green eyes widened as the flames were soon quickly visible as they ate through the old, dry wood of the rickety shed. The orange flames reflected in his shadowed green eyes as they shot down the walls and toward the barrels. It was only when one of the barrels caught that Kevin broke out of his fixation.

With a scream of anger, fear, and hate, Kevin shoved the flaming door open and fell out of the burning shed. He half crawled, half ran toward where Howie huddled behind a large tree to the side of the house.

“Kevin!” Howie called, desperately shooting cover fire in an effort to help Kevin’s mad dash.

Kevin gained his feet, stumbled, then picked himself up again. All the while, bullets shot the dust up at his feet and whizzed past his head. Kevin was halfway to Howie when the shed blew.

He fell to the ground once again, the shed exploding in a huge fire ball with the shock wave blowing out the house’s remaining windows. For a moment, the gunfire stopped. Kevin rolled around and stared at what once was a shed, now a pile of burning debris. Then, as if time had stopped and now resumed, bullets littered the ground around him.

Jumping to his feet, Kevin managed to join Howie in the tree’s cover. Howie gave him a quick glance, “What the hell was in there?”

Kevin scowled, “About four barrels worth of gunpowder.”

“That outlaw in the second story threw somethin’ down at the roof,” informed Howie, firing a shot at the house, “Figure it musta been a lantern.”

Kevin nodded, “You got much ammo left?”

Howie paused, then shook his head, “Got ‘bout four bullets left.” Howie finally got a clear shot at the second story gunman as he leaned out of the window. Howie fired off a shot. The outlaw jerked, then fell out of the window and to the porch’s roof, crashing through to land on the hard wood deck. Howie smiled, “Make that three.”

“And one less gunman,” smirked Kevin, unable to help himself. Then his face darkened, “I gotta get Branson. Somehow, I gotta get at him.”

~/~/~( )~~~

AJ stared at the black cloud of smoke floating up into the sky, fixated, “Damn.”

Then AJ got a glimpse of Arlen as he disappeared at the back of the house. Swearing at himself for being distracted, AJ crouched low and ran across the clearing to the rear of the house. He saw a door and carefully approached it. AJ pushed open the door slowly, looking into the room. It was empty.

AJ entered the house, seeing a room to his left, the door open and swaying. His brown eyes narrowed as he approached. He reached out and pushed open the door, just in time to see Arlen wrap an arm around a young, blond haired girl’s waist and grab the arm of a blond haired boy. The girl screamed.

“Stop!” cried AJ, bringing up his mare’s leg. He cocked the gun, “Let ‘em go.”

Arlen froze, staring at AJ’s gun, “Or what? You’ll shoot me? And risk hitting one of these innocent kids to get me? Are you willing to risk it?” In a sudden desperate move of a cornered criminal, Arlen thoughtlessly threw the blond haired boy to the floor, his free hand moving to his ankle in a blur.

AJ didn’t flinch as he pulled the trigger, the shot deafening in the room as the little girl screamed in fear, clutching her hands over her ears. Arlen stared at AJ in disbelief, the gun he’d pulled from his ankle holster falling to the floor as a blossom of red spread over his chest. Wordlessly, Arlen Morgan released his hold on the little girl and fell to the floor, dead with a bullet buried in his cold heart.

AJ lowered his gun, the barrel still smoking, “I never miss.”

Aaron rushed to his twin, who sobbed on her knees with small hands covering her face. AJ walked toward them, “You kids okay?”

Aaron looked up at AJ with wide brown eyes, “Yeah, we’re okay... Thank you.”

AJ smiled, “Hey, no problem. You two got names?”

Aaron nodded, “I’m Aaron and this is my twin sister, Angel.” Aaron paused, looking up at AJ, “Are you a friend of Nicky’s?”

AJ looked surprised, “Yeah, I am. Ya’ll know Nick?”

Aaron nodded and Angel finally looked up, her gaze watery and face tear streaked, “Nicky’s our older brother...” She paused and looked at Arlen’s body, “And that’s our father.”

AJ paled, “Oh, no...”

~/~/~( )~~~

The loud gunshot that came from behind Branson chilled him to the core. They had gotten in the house, gotten behind them. They were dead if they stayed where they were. They had to run. Branson looked at Kyle, “We haveta get outta here.”

“How?” asked Kyle, panic creeping into his voice.

“Just...” Branson ducked at a bullet striking the wood above his head, “Run!”

Branson leapt to his feet and ran to the window on the side of the room, throwing it open and climbing out. Kyle looked around him and saw no way out, he looked to the window.

“Okay!” he yelled out, throwing his gun out of the window, “I give up!”

No sooner than the words leaving his mouth did the front door crash open, the dark clothed Kevin Richardson standing rigid at the threshold. Kevin’s hard green eyes scanned the room. All he saw was Kyle. Without a word, Kevin closed in on the outlaw and grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulling the man from the floor, “Where’s Branson?!”

Kyle wanted to shrink back from the cold rage in the green eyes, but forced out an answer so that the man would let him go without killing him, “H-he went out the window there... Just a minute ‘fore you came in here.”

Kevin dropped him, the outlaw’s legs failing to support him in his fear. Kevin laid glaring eyes on Howie as he came through the door, “Tie him up, I’m goin’ after Branson.”

Howie’s eyes followed Kevin as he stalked from the house, murder blatant on the dark features. Shaking his head, Howie used his belt and the outlaw’s belt to tie the man’s hands and feet, not wanting to waste time going to their horses for rope. Howie had to stop Kevin before he destroyed himself in trying to destroy Branson.

Note: Not yet beta read.





~/~/~( Chapter 11 )~~~


Branson ran, his breath bursting in and out of his lungs as he sent a wild glance behind him. Seeing only the house, he looked back to his destination. The horses. He had to get to the horses, then he could escape.

He wiped a hand across his brow, finding it slick with sweat. Christ! He didn’t want to die, and that’s what would happen if Richardson got his hands on him. Branson shuddered. He had heard of some the things Richardson had done, and most of it to find him.

Branson scowled as he ran. None of this would be happening if Kevin Richardson had died like he was supposed to. He’d had two bullets in him, for Pete’s sake! Branson had thought him as good as dead. Swearing to himself, he shook his head. He should have made sure, but he had wanted to leave the Richardson homestead before the burning house attracted attention. Now it was coming back to bite him in the ass. The Judge had warned him about leaving loose ends, especially when Richardsons were involved.

Branson was halfway between the house and the barn where the horses were tied when a shout echoed from behind him, the voice stopping him in his tracks.

“Branson! Throw down your weapon!”

Slowly turning, Branson rested his hand on his gun. He blinked the sweat out of his dark eyes as he looked at what stood no more than fifty feet before him. If revenge could have a form, Branson now knew what it would look like. He slowly drew his gun out and tossed it several feet away to disappear in the long grass.

Kevin smirked slyly at Branson as he held his gun before him, the barrel trained on the man’s heart.

“Don’t even think about movin’, Branson,” toned Kevin, beginning to walk toward his enemy. “’Cause my bullet will be lodged in yer heart before the thought enters yer brain.”

Branson knew the truth in those words, but he didn’t forget he still had a weapon. It just wasn’t the .38 lying buried in the grass beside him that would save him. He was quickly coming up with a new tactic to get the upper hand in this fight. His words. Still, he couldn’t staunch his fear completely as his eyes shifted nervously as Kevin walked toward him. The black clad gunslinger oozed confidence in every determined stride he put forth.

Branson tensed as Kevin stopped several feet in front of him. If he had to die, he sure as hell wasn’t going to go like a pansy. He’d just try his damnedest to take Richardson out with him.

“Richardson,” Branson nodded, forcing his voice to be steady and threatening. “Gonna finally get yer dues, eh? Well,” Branson threw his arms out in a grand gesture, noticing how Kevin’s gun twitched at the movement. “Here I am.”

“Don’t. Move.” Kevin warned for the second time as his emotions battled between outright rage and disbelief. The man before him infuriated him, yet at the same time Kevin couldn’t believe the man was actually there. After all this time...

“Who hired you to kill my father,” Kevin ground out, his tone demanding an answer.

Branson actually laughed, “Who hired me? That’s the question ya waited nine years to ask while hunting me?” His lips forming a disgustingly sardonic smile, Branson baited Kevin’s anger, “You’ll get nothing from me, Richardson. Nothing, but what you already know. Your father is dead and rotting in his grave.”

“Shut up,” barked Kevin, his hand gripping the gun tighter. Hate and anger caused a tremor to sweep through his form, even as his green eyes dimmed in memory. The lurid scene he had ridden into near a decade ago replayed, all the horror relived for the hundredth time. Kevin breathed in sharply at the pain the visions brought to his fragile heart, blinking hard and shaking his head ever so slightly in an effort to clear the images away. He had to force himself to drag his pain filled gaze back to the man before him, who continued on with his militant narrative.

“He begged me, Kevin,” sneered Branson, stepping toward the faltering gunslinger. He stopped when Kevin managed to steady his gun, the gunslinger’s aim having wavered for a moment. “He begged me to just kill him.”

“Shut up.” The tremor in Kevin’s voice carried, and Branson smirked, his dark eyes studying the man before him.

“He’s dead, Richardson,” continued Branson, stepping closer to the gunslinger, “Dead because of you.”

Kevin’s eyes squinted in pain, their focus dulled slightly. Sweat began to bead on his face and Kevin noticed in a somewhat detached way that his hands were trembling. He fought to steady his gun. What was happening to him? Kevin had fought so hard for nine years to bury the events of that day. He’d never really faced the horror he had felt when he had rode up to his home that day.

Branson’s smirk deepened, his eyes watching the man faltering before him, “It’s your fault, Kevin. You killed your father!”

“NO!” cried Kevin as something inside of him snapped. Eyes of green flint sparked with a consuming fire of rage. His hand suddenly became rock steady as his finger pulled the trigger.

Branson took his only chance and lunged for the gun and Kevin, knocking the gunslinger to the ground as the weapon fired with a deafening crack. Branson hissed as the bullet carved a channel along his side, but bit back the pain as he grappled with Kevin for the gun.

Kevin was fighting for breath as well as his weapon, Branson’s knee having struck him square in his gut when the man had smashed into him. That knee continued to grind into the tender flesh as Kevin used his free hand to try and shove Branson’s bulk off of him. His other hand was locked about his gun as Branson clawed at his fingers and pounded his hand into the hard ground in attempts to release the weapon from Kevin’s grasp.

Suddenly, a meaty fist slammed into Kevin’s face. Pain flared and a white light flashed across his vision before he felt another force slam into his face. He tasted the metallic flavor of blood as his teeth sliced the inside of his cheek.

Blinking in an effort to clear his vision, Kevin managed to slam his own fist into Branson’s face. Kevin clenched bloodstained teeth as he punched Branson again, this time with so much force he felt something in his hand give with a crack. The punch threw Branson’s weight off of Kevin and he twisted away from the outlaw, feeling Branson’s hands scraping across his side before they disappeared.

Branson fell to the side, rolling twice before stopping his motion. He quickly gained his feet and raised his hand.

Gasping, Kevin struggled to his knees and twisted to face Branson. He began to raise his gun, but froze as he heard a gun cock. Kevin closed his eyes at the laugh he heard next, letting his gun fall back to his side as he sat back on his haunches in defeat.

“Toss the gun aside, Richardson.”

Opening his deadened eyes, Kevin stared up at the barrel of his own .44 conversion revolver. Not saying a word, Kevin tossed its twin several feet away. He now kneeled before his enemy unarmed.

Branson could feel the blood oozing from the graze in his side, but the pain was distant. His jaw throbbed in tune to his heartbeat, which thudded a wild cadence in his chest. Branson suspected it was broken from the blow Kevin had delivered, but all of it seemed almost muted in the sight which kneeled before him. He finally had Kevin Richardson right where he wanted him. With the pull of a trigger, Branson would no longer have to keep an eye open at night in fear of Richardson’s wrath. He was going to enjoy this.

“Kevin Richardson.” Branson winced as he spoke. His jaw was, at the very least, cracked. Nevertheless, he smiled as Kevin looked up at him. “I think it’s time I finished what I started nine years ago.”

Kevin let his eyes slide shut, his head lowering. All the air seemed to have left his lungs and his chest felt tight. Time seemed to slow as he waited for the bullet that would finally free his tortured soul.

CRACK!

The shot was curiously loud and sharp as it echoed through the morning air. When the sound faded, Kevin opened his eyes in surprise. He looked up and saw Branson staring down at his chest in shock. The man’s arm was still outstretched, but the gun laid on the ground at his feet after falling from numb fingers.

Blood darkened two spots on the outlaw’s chest, each steadily growing in size as the seconds slowly ticked by. One marked the center of Branson’s chest, the other his lower left side. A wet, thick gasp suddenly burst from Branson’s lips. Another followed after a pause, the outlaw raising his eyes to blink slowly at Kevin’s shocked face.

“What?” breathed Kevin, snapping his head around to look behind him.

Howie stood between him and the house, the healer slowly lowering his smoking gun. Shifting his gaze slightly, Kevin made out AJ’s form at the back of the house. The man still held his mare’s leg to his shoulder.

A sound caused Kevin to snap his attention back to Branson, just in time to see the man collapsing to the ground. Kevin’s heart jumped to his throat as fear took hold of him.

“NO!” cried Kevin, his voice cracking as he crawled toward Branson’s crumpled form. Kevin grasped handfuls of the man’s blood soaked shirt with trembling hands, lifting the gasping man off the ground slightly.

“No!” Kevin choked out again, his eyes roving over Branson’s face as the man’s gasps became fewer and further between. Kevin shook Branson, anger overtaking the fear. “Who hired you?! Damn it!” Kevin shook the man harder, “WHO HIRED YOU?!!!”

Branson took in a great gasp and suddenly managed to focus on Kevin above him. He could see fear and great anguish in the famous green eyes. After a long pause, Branson’s blood flecked lips curved into a smile. The smile stayed in place as his eyes went dull.

Kevin stared as the life left the man in his grasp. Dead eyes gazed past Kevin and he shook his head.

“No.”

Kevin’s hands let loose and Branson fell back to the ground. The gunslinger looked down at his hands. He stared at the blood that covered them. He curled them into fists.

“No.”

His back arched as he lowered his head. Elbows rested on thighs as his fists supported his head. A breath hitched in his chest.

“No.”

The hunched figure began to shake.


~/~/~( )~~~


Howie couldn’t pull his eyes off of the sight as AJ stepped up beside him. Howie felt like he had just stepped back in time and was watching his life replay itself. The scene before him was so hauntingly familiar and he wished it would disappear. He flinched as a hand grasped his shoulder.

“It ain’t the same, Howie.” AJ’s voice was soft, the tone low. “It ain’t.”

Howie slowly shook his head, but stayed silent.

“AJ?”

The small voice caught Howie’s attention, causing his heart to skip a beat. AJ winced, then turned to look back at the house. Angel stood at the corner, Aaron’s hand held tightly in her grasp.

“It’s all right, Angel,” called AJ, “Ya can come out now.”

The twins immediately sprinted toward the tracker and healer. Angel stared at Howie, then looked at AJ. “Who’s he?”

AJ gave a small smile, “That’s Howie. He’s a good friend. He won’t hurt ya.”

Aaron squinted, “Is he friends with Nick?”

“Yep.” AJ replied, nodding, “Real good friends.”

The twins seemed to accept this. They looked over at Kevin, but didn’t ask who he was. It was like they sensed that now was not the time. AJ glanced from Howie to Kevin and then back at the twins. “Why don’t we go and see Nick?”

“Yes, please,” Angel eagerly said. “Where is he?”

“I think he’s still in the barn with Brian an’… that old guy.” AJ frowned.

“Frederick,” supplied Aaron.

AJ was already ushering the twins away, his sad eyes flipping between Howie and Kevin as he walked. “Right,” he agreed distractedly, “Frederick.”

Howie watched them go until they disappeared into the barn. He then let his gaze fall back on Kevin’s hunched form. He sighed and then began to slowly walk toward the man.

Kevin heard him approach, but ignored him. He was lost in his own personal hell and he just couldn’t stop shaking. He wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing would come out.

“Kevin?”

The voice was soft, low. It carried the weight of pity and it angered Kevin.

“Kevin, answer me.”

A hand touched his shoulder and Kevin snapped. He lashed out with an arm. Howie fell to the ground at the contact that had slammed into his chest, his eyes following Kevin as he surged to his feet. The man glared down at him.

“Don’t touch me!”

Kevin glanced down at Branson before stumbling away. He didn’t get more than several yards before his legs gave out and he was again on his knees.

Undeterred, Howie climbed to his feet and approached Kevin again. He kneeled down in front of him. Kevin avoided his gaze, studying the ground. For a moment, Howie stared at Kevin. When he spoke, the words were loud in their honesty.

“I had a wife once.”

Kevin’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. Howie just stared sadly at Kevin as he continued.

“Had a baby girl, too.”

Kevin’s eyes widened slightly at that. Howie glanced down at the ground.

“They died.” Howie locked eyes with Kevin. “Actually, they were murdered. And in our home. Our home, Kevin. Home is s’posed ta be safe.” Howie shook his head, glancing away before continuing. “I found the men that came into our home and then I killed ‘em.”

Howie held out his hand and clenched his fist, “I held my gun in this hand and fired until it fired no more. Even then, I kept pullin’ the trigger. The hammer just clicked on empty chamber after empty chamber, but I couldn’t stop.” Howie stared at his hand, “I couldn’t stop because the pain wasn’t going away like it was s’posed to. I’d had my revenge, but I’d never felt so empty.”

Howie closed his eyes and dropped his hand to his lap. Kevin could only stare at the man before him, seeing the Spaniard in an entirely new light. He jumped slightly when Howie spoke again.

“Killin’ the man that murdered your father won’t make the pain go away, Kevin. Nothin’ can make the pain go away ‘cept time and acceptance. You may never find out who hired Branson to murder yer father.” Howie opened his eyes and looked across at Kevin. “Maybe yer not s’posed to. Either way, the only thing that can make the pain go away is you. It’s up to you. Don’t make the same mistake as me.”

Kevin eyes squinted in pain. It was pain that he wanted to stop, pain that he wanted rid of after carrying it for nine years. He just wanted it to stop, all of it to just stop.

“I can’t,” choked Kevin. “I just… I don’t think I can do what you ask. I just want it all to stop, and findin’ the man who put the hit on my father is the only way I know how to make it go away.”

“But it’ll fade, Kevin,” answered Howie, slowly reaching a hand out and resting it on Kevin’s shoulder. “In time it’ll fade, now that you have friends to help you.”

Kevin’s eyes bored into Howie’s and his jaw flexed. His gaze faltered.

“Trust me, Kevin.”

Kevin brought his gaze back up.

“I’ll get you through it. We all will.” Howie squeezed Kevin’s shoulder. “Let it go.”

Kevin was quiet for several minutes, but he soon gave a short nod. “I’ll try.”


~/~/~( )~~~


Brian was getting worried. He knew he was supposed to move Nick out of the barn like AJ had said, but he didn’t know where to go and he didn’t think moving Nick right now was a good idea. The drifter had fallen unconscious shortly after AJ had left. That was over thirty minutes ago and Nick had yet to awaken.

A wrinkled hand appeared in Brian’s field of vision as he stared worriedly down at Nick, the hand resting on the youth’s brow.

Frederick looked across at Brian, “He’s got a fever.”

Brian solemnly nodded, “His wound is infected. I- I don’t know what to do…”

Frederick could tell he was witnessing something few people ever saw. Brian was unsure of himself and scared. He laid a hand on the gambler’s arm, “He’ll be okay. We just have to take care of him.”

Brian glanced up, forcing a small smile onto his lips before returning his gaze to Nick’s face. He was intently searching for any sign that his friend was waking up. So when the door to their little haven suddenly flew open, Brian was so surprised that he spun around and had to scramble for the gun AJ had left with him. As he finally grasped it and brought it before him, he almost couldn’t catch himself in time to not pull the trigger.

“Nicky!” cried Aaron, exploding into the barn with Angel in tow. “Where’s Nick?!”

“Gol-darn it! I told you two to wait a sec!” scolded AJ’s voice before the angered man stepped into the barn. He glared at the twins, “Brian dang near blew yer heads off! Ya gotta be more careful.”

“You can’t tell us what to do,” scowled Aaron.

“No. He can’t, but I can.”

“Frederick!” cried Angel, launching herself into the old man’s arms. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Angel. Thanks to our new friends, that is,” smiled Frederick, soon including Aaron in the hug.

AJ had to smile at the small reunion, then he walked toward Brian. He went down to one knee and looked anxiously down at Nick.

“How’s the kid?” AJ asked in a quiet voice.

Brian frowned, placing the gun back on the floor beside him before answering, “Not well. He has a high fever and has been oblivious to the conscious world for nearly three quarters of an hour.”

AJ nodded, “So, in translation the kid has been out cold for 45 minutes an’ has one heck of a fever.”

Brian couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling, despite the situation, “Yes.”

“Nick’s sick?”

Brian looked to the young blond boy that suddenly stood next to him, “Yes, he is. Your name is Aaron, correct?”

“Yeah and that’s my sister, Angel,” Aaron pointed to the blond girl still in Frederick’s arms. “And Nick is our older brother, but you already know that ‘cause we met before kind of. Um… Is Nick gonna get better? ‘Cause Ma got sick and she didn’t get better.”

Brian’s eyes saddened at the child’s words and he noticed as AJ winced. He tried to smile convincingly to the boy, “Yes. Nick will get better. He just needs some medicine and care.”

Angel sniffed, stepping out of Frederick’s arms to kneel close to Nick’s side. She looked down at her brother sadly, “They said that about Mama, too. They lied.”

Aaron studied the gambler, “Are you lyin’ to us?”

Brian’s mouth opened in shock. He was usually so good with kids, but these two seemed older beyond their years. “No. I am not lying, for if I were I would also be lying to myself.”

It looked as though Aaron didn’t know how to take that answer, but he soon nodded. Brian half smiled and then leaned over to lay his hand on Nick’s forehead. He hissed at the heat he felt.

“His fever is rising. We need Howie.” Brian looked to AJ, “Where is he?”

AJ faltered a bit before answering, “He’s… with Kevin. Outside.”

Brian’s eyebrows rose, “Is it… over?”

“Oh, yeah,” toned AJ, eyes downcast. “It’s over. Branson is dead and the only outlaw still livin’ is trussed up in the house.”

Brian pursed his lips, “Arlen?”

AJ shook his head, “Nope, it’s not him. He’s…” AJ glanced at the twins, “…dead.”

“Good riddance,” Brian declared, his voice strong. When AJ immediately narrowed his eyes and gave a little shake of his head, Brian frowned. AJ glanced toward the twins. Brian understood and shock took hold of his face, “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay,” said Angel, shrugging slightly. “He was never no real Daddy to us. He was always so mean. We didn’t like him.”

Aaron shook his head, anger curling his mouth into a frown, “I hated him. I’m glad he’s dead.”

Brian’s eyebrows rose, surprised and dismayed at the words that came from such a young child. He frowned when Angel added her own opinion.

“He was a bad man,” she nodded, agreeing with her twin.

AJ straightened, standing beside Brian, “I’ll… go get Howie and Kevin.”

With that, AJ left out the door he had come in through.


~/~/~( )~~~


AJ was relieved when he saw Kevin and Howie walking toward the barn. He jogged up to them.

“Nick’s in a bad way, Howie,” AJ grabbed his friend’s arm and began pulling him toward the barn, trying to hasten their pace. “He’s burnin’ up somethin’ fierce.”

They quickly reached the barn and rushed through the door. Howie immediately went to Nick’s side. He kneeled down and felt the drifter’s forehead, then quickly focused on the old bullet wound. He lifted Nick’s shirt and hissed at the sight. The wound was an angry red and swollen. It was torn open where it had previously started to heal and a yellow substance was mixed in with the blood slowly leaking from the wound.

“He has a nasty infection,” toned Howie, tentatively touching the wound. Nick groaned slightly, but didn’t wake. Howie looked up to the others, “We have to get him in the house and on a bed. I need my bag so I can treat him. I need some boiled water, too, to help me clean out this wound.”

“I’ll get the horses and your bag,” spoke Kevin for the first time and drawing Brian’s attention, but before the gambler could start to speak Kevin had turned and walked out the door.

The gambler looked torn as he switched his gaze back and forth between Nick and the door Kevin had just walked out. AJ noticed.

“I got the kid, Brian,” he assured, giving Brian a little shove to the door. “Go an’ help Kevin.”

Brian was still reluctant to leave Nick, so Howie spoke next, “Go, Brian. We can get Nick to the house. Go.”

Glancing around, Brian finally nodded and quickly walked out the door. AJ watched him leave, then looked down at Nick. He sighed.

“I’ll get his legs.”


~/~/~( )~~~


By the time Brian caught up to Kevin, the man had already reached the edge of the trees.

“Kevin!” Brian called, hoping the gunslinger would wait for him. “Hold on a second!”

Kevin glanced back at Brian, but did not pause. He continued on and walked into the trees. Brian scowled, breaking into a run. He kept Kevin in his sight the best he could as he weaved through the trees. He had to as he had no idea where the horses were hidden.

Brian finally saw the horses and Kevin, the gunslinger was almost done tacking them up. Brian stumbled to a halt, leaning heavily against a tree as he attempted to catch his breath. His arm was starting to bother him again and he was feeling rather hot after the short run and a bit lightheaded. He was way out of shape. Brian scowled at himself, then shook it off as Kevin was now beginning to leave with the three horses in tow.

“Kevin,” yelled Brian, his voice still a little breathy from the run. “Please, just wait a couple minutes.”

“Nick doesn’t have a couple minutes, Brian,” Kevin said shortly, moving to leave again.

“Just wait!” Brian cried out, moving to stand in Kevin’s way. Blaze snorted behind Kevin, annoyed.

Kevin glowered, “What, Brian? What the hell do you want?!”

“Are you okay?”

The question caught Kevin off guard, “What?”

Brian wiped at his forehead, then squinted up at his cousin, “I want to know if you are okay.”

“I-“ Kevin broke off, unsure. He tried again, speaking softly, “I don’t know.”

Brian looked uncomfortable for a moment, then spoke, “You… You know that I am here for you. Don’t you, Kevin?”

Kevin stared a Brian for a long moment, studying the gambler before answering. “I think I’m beginning to learn.”

Brian gave Kevin a small smile, “I guess that’s a good start, right?”

Kevin returned the smile with a small one of his own, “Right.”

~/~/~( Chapter 12 )~~~


“Damn, the kid’s heavy,” grunted AJ as he maneuvered up the porch steps, glancing back to see where he was going. He studiously ignored the body of Les that was sprawled a few feet away.

Howie rolled his eyes, shifting his hold under Nick’s arms, “Oh, shut up. You got the lighter end.”

“Maybe,” argued AJ, approaching the front door. He nodded thanks to Frederick as the old man opened it for him. “But I gotta walk backwards.”

“You don’t ‘gotta’ anything, AJ,” spat Howie, being careful of the doorway as they worked their way through. “I said I’d walk backwards, but you said you’d do it. No problem. Then the whole dang walk to the house I’ve had to listen to yer complainin’!”

“Well,” huffed AJ, “I got a bad back.”

“Since when?” Howie asked, looking around the room for a place to set Nick down.

“Since we started luggin’ Nick’s butt all over the damn countryside!” exclaimed AJ. He stared across at the healer, “Where’re we puttin’ him? My arms are killin’ me here.”

Frederick couldn’t help but smile at the banter, glancing at Aaron and Angel as they smiled slightly. It was obvious the two men were trying to make light of a situation that had them greatly worried, and that situation was young Nick’s health.

“There is a bedroom down the hall there,” he spoke, pointing the direction.

AJ cleared his throat, “I… don’t think that’s a good spot. Anythin’ else?”

Frederick frowned, noticing how the twins suddenly moved closer to him. “Uh… up the stairs there are several bedrooms.”

AJ sighed, “Great. Stairs. Oh, well. Let’s go, Howie.”

Howie gaped at the tracker, “What? You were complainin’ about carrying Nick all over the place and now you are willin’ to climb a flight of stairs when there’s a bedroom just down the hall? What’s wrong with the bedroom?”

AJ looked uncomfortable, glancing at the twins now clinging to Frederick’s legs, “Nick’s, um… father is in there, along with that last outlaw we tied up.”

“Huh?” blurted Howie.

AJ realized Howie, nor Kevin now that he thought of it, knew the identity of the contractor that had put the hit out on Nick. Aaron and Angel had collectively told him after identifying the man as their father.

“Nick’s father is the one that put the contract out on him. His name was Arlen Morgan and I shot him in that room where he was holdin’ Aaron and Angel hostage.” AJ bluntly told his friend, frowning.

First shock, then understanding filled Howie’s eyes. He gazed sadly down at Nick's flushed face, wincing at the frown of pain present even in unconsciousness. The blond haired head rested heavily against Howie's chest, slick with sweat and dampening his shirt where it pressed against him.

Howie let out a heavy sigh, “Up the stairs we go then.”


~/~/~( )~~~


“Hey, Brian. Are you okay?”

Brian sighed, looking to the gunslinger walking beside him, “I’m fine.”

Kevin looked doubtful, “Ya look like crap.”

Brian frowned at that, slightly insulted. Although, he had to admit that he did feel rather unwell at the moment, and had the temperature dropped? He shivered. Brian raised a hand to cinch his coat tighter about his frame, wincing slightly as it pulled at his shoulder. His whole arm felt stiff and… odd. Shaking his head, he forced it aside. All he wanted to do right now was get back to the house so that he could check on his new friend.

“I’m fine,” Brian repeated, sparing the gunslinger a glance before returning his gaze forward. His pace quickened when the house appeared in his sight. They could travel faster now that they were out of the dense trees and Brian began to break into a run.

The reins in Brian’s hand suddenly went taunt, causing the gambler to stumble to a stop. He glared at the large white horse. It was the ninth time the equine had pulled up on him, nostrils flaring. The fact was, the two horses Kevin lead had also been acting agitated the entire trek.

Kevin stopped beside the gambler, his expression confused as he studied the animals, “Somethin’ is spookin’ them. Any ideas what?”

“No, and right now I don’t care. Howie needs his bag to help Nick,” spoke Brian, giving Ghost’s reins a firm tug as he resumed his quick jog out of the trees. Kevin spared Blaze and Mayhem one last glance before quickly following the gambler.


~/~/~( )~~~


“Okay,” grunted Howie, settling Nick’s upper torso on the mattress. He pressed a hand to Nick’s forehead, still worried at the heat he felt. He spared a quick glance at the others in the room before returning his attention to Nick, “I need someone to boil water and I need lots of clean strips of cloth.”

Frederick nodded, then looked down at the twins as he laid his hands on their shoulders, “Children, why don’t you assist me in acquiring those items for Mr. Dorough.”

The twins looked unsure, not wanting to leave their brother, but they understood the unspoken request. Frederick didn’t want them to be around as Nick was tended to by Howie. The trio left the room in silence.

AJ bounced slightly on his feet, agitated. He frowned for a moment, then grasped the lapels of his long coat and shrugged it off his shoulders. He hung the coat over the bedpost before him, then stepped back to wait. Soon he was bouncing on his feet again. AJ suddenly noticed he was also wringing his hands together, so he stuffed them into his pants pockets. He watched Howie as he unbuttoned Nick’s shirt and pulled the garment open, freeing the festering wound to the dry air. AJ winced at the sight of it and caught his lip between his teeth in sympathy. He really needed something to do.

Howie looked across at his friend and smiled slightly at the man’s agitation. He shook his head slightly.

“AJ.”

AJ jumped and his eyes shot up from their study of Nick to Howie’s patient face, “Yeah?”

Howie nodded to Nick’s feet, “Pull his boots off, then come here and help me sit Nick up so I can get this vest and shirt off him.”

AJ quickly complied, removing Nick’s boots and setting them on the floor beside him. He walked up on the opposite side of the bed from Howie and gently grasped Nick’s shoulders, lifting the unconscious youth forward. He slipped one arm under Nick’s shirt and around his back to better support his hold as Howie pulled the shirt and vest from Nick’s frame. When Howie was done, AJ started to settle Nick back down, but Howie stopped him.

“Keep him up. I wanna check the exit wound.”

Nodding, AJ continued to hold Nick up. He couldn’t believe how hot the drifter felt, “How’s it look?”

Howie sighed, “A few stitches have been torn loose, but the wound is mostly together. It’s still healing pretty well. It’s in a much better state than the entry wound and it looks as though the infection is so far localized at his front. It’s in its early stages so keeping it under control will be much easier than I thought.” Howie straightened, “You can set him down now, AJ.”

Slowly, AJ eased Nick back down to the bed. He pulled his arm from beneath him and then laid his hand on Nick’s forehead for a moment before moving it to comb back the sweat soaked hair. Nick looked so pale against he white pillow, save for the rosy flush that colored his cheeks.

The tracker’s voice was soft when he spoke, “He feels awful hot, Howie.”

Howie looked up from his examination of the wound, his features confident as he locked eyes with his friend, “I’ll fix him.”

Nodding, AJ returned his gaze to Nick. He continued to smooth Nick’s hair back as the youth moaned slightly.


~/~/~( )~~~


Brian’s brisk jog had quickly turned into a run as he neared the house, forcing the horse he toted to go from a trot to a canter. Kevin changed his pace in a similar fashion to keep up with the gambler. Brian stumbled to a stop at the porch, quickly wrapping Ghost’s reins around the railing. He turned to Kevin as his cousin stopped beside him and tied the two horses he lead to the railing. Before Kevin could even turn around to Howie’s horse, Mayhem, Brian was there and had snatched the medical bag.

“Brian!” Kevin called uselessly as Brian was already bounding up the porch steps and through the front door. Frowning, Kevin quickly followed.

Brian burst into the front room and quickly looked around, trying to find his friends.

“Mr. Littrell?” called a voice.

Brian looked up and saw Frederick halfway up the stairs with a steaming pot in his shaking hands and cloth strips folded over one arm. The old man stared down at Brian with a surprised look.

“Where’s Nick?” panted the gambler, oddly blunt and to the point.

“He’s in an upstairs bedroom. Misters Dorough and McLean are with him.”

Before Frederick could even finish that sentence, Brian was quickly up the stairs and past the old man. Frederick stared up at the gamblers back as he disappeared up the stairs. So lost in thought of what he just saw, Frederick was surprised at the deep voice that suddenly spoke so close to him.

“He’s awful worried about Nick,” explained Kevin, the gunslinger reaching out and taking the steaming pot and cloth from the butler. He started up the stairs after his cousin, “You just go look after those little ones, we’ll take care of Nick.”

Frederick glanced down the stairs and saw two young faces peeking worriedly around the banister. Face softening, Frederick smiled at his young charges, but then the smile quickly fled his face as he spun around to call after the dark gunslinger.

“He doesn’t look well.” Kevin paused on the stairs, his back still turned. Frederick quickly continued, “Your friend, the gambler, he looks pale. I think he's sick.”

Kevin’s head bowed a little, his reply soft and angry, “I know.”

Frederick frowned as the gunslinger continued up the steps and disappeared from view.


~/~/~( )~~~


Both Howie and AJ jumped when Brian burst into the room. AJ even grabbed for his gun which wasn’t there. He scowled at the puffing gambler, “Damn it, Brian! Ya can’t just come charging in out of nowhere on me. One of these days I’ll end up shootin’ ya!”

Brian ignored him, heading straight for the bed and his friend. He didn’t take his eyes from Nick as he thrust the bag into Howie’s hands. He laid a trembling hand on Nick’s shoulder, speaking in a hurried voice, “Is he all right? I got here as fast as I could, Howie. I got your bag. Am I too late? Is he gonna be all right?”

The last question had Brian’s bright blue eyes staring into Howie’s shocked face. For a moment, Howie couldn’t speak. He didn’t know what shocked him more, Brian’s suddenly simple dialog or the extent of worry the young man felt for his new friend.

Howie stumbled a bit before finding his voice, “He’s gonna be right fine, Brian. He’s got a bit of an infection and a fever, but I’m sure he’ll get through it fine.”

Brian looked back down at Nick’s flushed face, still worried, “You’re sure?”

AJ stepped up to the gambler, “He’ll be fine, cowboy. Trust Howie on this one. He’ll be all better and back to drivin’ you crazy in no time.”

AJ finished his words with a gentle squeeze to Brian’s shoulder. He was stunned when the gambler gasped and crumbled down to his knees, leaning against Nick’s bed and grasping his arm. Brian’s face lost what color that was left in it at the sudden pain.

“Christ!” AJ gasped, hitting his knees beside his panting friend. “Your shoulder. God, I forgot Brian. I’m sorry.”

“Damn it, Brian!” Yelled a dark, angry voice.

The three looked to the doorway at a furious Kevin, who was staring coldly down at Brian. The gunslinger set the pot and cloth on the small table by the door and then stalked toward his cousin.

“I knew you were hidin' something,” he ground out, shoving AJ out of the way as he reached for Brian.

Through watery eyes pinched from the pain, Brian watched Kevin come toward him and couldn’t help shrinking back. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip to keep from crying out as Kevin roughly pulled his jacket off. Brian felt the heavy material slip from his arms and back as the world seemed to spin around him, but was caught off guard at the silence that came after.

“God-damn it, Brian,” Kevin toned softly after the pause, his green eyes shocked as he took in the sight.

“Jesus, Bri’,” breathed AJ, shaking his head.

Brian furrowed his brow and forced his eyes open, looking first at the downcast face of his cousin and the coat he held in his hands as he stood over him. He then looked down at his arm and slowly blinked in a lethargic shock. His entire arm was red with blood, the white material forever stained. Some was rusty and stiff, dry. More of it was pliable and wet, fresh.

“I…” panted Brian, finding it hard to speak as the room spun faster and seemed to dim. “I didn’t… Kev?”

“Brian!” Kevin cried out, dropping to his knees and catching the gambler as his eyes closed and he slumped toward the floor. He looked down at Brian’s unconscious face, his green eyes filled with fear and tinged with tears. He looked up, “Howie?”

A scowl on his face, but worry in his eyes nonetheless, Howie shook his head. “You all are jus’ bound and determined to give me trouble, aren’t ya?”


~/~/~( )~~~


AJ sat on the couch, his chin resting on his hands as his dark eyes followed the man before him. Back and forth, back and forth with the heel toe footstep echoing on the hard wood floor. He shook his head and leaned back against the couch.

''Kevin, pacin’ around wearing a path inta the floor ain’t goin’ta make time pass any faster, or make what happened not happen.”

Kevin stopped, spared AJ an intense glare and then resumed his pacing.

AJ threw his hands up in frustration, looking at the ceiling with a mutter, “Like talkin’ to a damn wall.”

They were down on the first floor because Howie had literally thrown them out of the room. After AJ and Kevin had drug a bed from an adjacent room into Nick’s room, they had quickly gotten Brian situated on it, but then they had pretty much been in Howie’s way as he worked on cleaning his patients' wounds. While he was trying to do that he was also answering their worried questions over and over. It finally got to the point where Howie shoved them out of the room and slammed the door.

Kevin would have shot the door off of its hinges if AJ hadn't stopped him, snatching the gunslinger's weapon from his hand. The bounty hunter had earned a right hook to the face for the act, but Kevin stopped his attempts to get back into Brian and Nick's room.

AJ lifted a hand to his face, gingerly rubbing his bruised jaw. He opened his mouth and worked his jaw from side to side, reasuring himself that it was indeed not broken. It still hurt like hell, though. He winced, then scowled as the footsteps continued to echo in the room. He'd had enough.

“God-damn it, Kevin!" shouted AJ, jumping to his feet and stepping into Kevin's path. He shoved a finger into Kevin's chest, "Knock it off and sit yer ass down! Yer drivin' me crazy."

For a moment, time seemed to stop as the two men glared at each other. Kevin’s hand twitched at his holster. AJ sensed the movement, but didn’t waver his gaze. He wasn’t going to let Kevin push him around.

Kevin’s eyes narrowed, his face darkening. He felt all of the emotions swirling around inside him converge, anger suddenly becoming dominant.

“Get out of my way, McLean,” he ground out in a low voice.

“No,” AJ returned in an equally low voice.

Kevin’s eyes sparked in rage and he raised a hand to shove the man in front of him out of the way, but froze at the sound that came from behind him.

“Eh-hem,” Frederick cleared his throat nervously, swallowing thickly as the to men shifted their glares to him. He gestured to the tray in his hands, “Hungry?”

Kevin looked down at the tray and then back up at the old man that smiled nervously. He gave his head a single shake.

“No.”

With that, Kevin shoved AJ roughly out of his way and strode out of the room and onto the porch, the door slamming shut behind him.

AJ fought to keep his feet after the violent shove, his dark eyes glaring after the gunslinger. Finally, he sighed and shook his head. He didn’t need this shit. AJ looked at where Frederick still stood awkwardly holding the tray.

“I’ll take care of it,” AJ spoke, walking toward the butler and taking the tray.

“Thank you,” replied Frederick, still nervous. “He is quite an angry man, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” guffawed AJ, his smile dark. “Quite.”

Frederick watched the tracker with a confused expression as he disappeared out the front door.


~/~/~( )~~~


Kevin didn’t move from his spot at the railing as AJ stepped onto the porch, tray in hand. Kevin could smell the food and scowled. No one listened to him in this little group they had formed.

“I said I wasn’t hungry,” growled Kevin, his back to AJ. “And I thought my exit was enough to say that I want to be alone.”

“Yeah, well,” shrugged AJ slightly, “You haven’t eaten for over a day, so tough. You need this. And yer not gonna get rid of me so easily.”

Kevin didn’t reply, just crossed his arms over his chest.

AJ frowned, looking down at the tray he held and the cups of soup on it. Dang, if it didn’t smell good. There was another odor, though, that was stomach turning and just lingering in the air. AJ spared a glance to the dead outlaw on the far edge of the porch, buried beneath wood and debris from his fall from the second story window.

He grimaced, stepping up beside Kevin, “Ya know, we ought to do something about the bodies. They’re stinkin’ up the place.”

Kevin spared him a glance, “Later.”

AJ gave a single nod, then grabbed one of the steaming cups and held it before the gunslinger, “Take it or when I let go of it, it’s fallin’ to the porch and turnin’ into somethin’ else we gotta clean up.”

Giving AJ a glare, Kevin took the cup; secretly relishing the warmth it lent his hands. He raised it to his lips and sipped, the warm soup hitting his empty stomach. He didn’t realize he was starving until that moment.

“Told ya,” smirked AJ, watching as Kevin quickly made the cup of soup disappear. He downed his own cup nearly as fast.

Kevin sighed, then set the empty cup back onto the tray AJ still held. His voice was reluctant and soft when he spoke.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” AJ replied, setting the tray on the railing before them. “Now, mind tellin’ me what crawled up yer butt and died?”

Kevin was silent for a moment, then he spun away from AJ and walked to the far end of the porch.

“I just can’t do this,” came Kevin’s voice, surprising AJ at the emotion he heard in it.

“Do what?” asked AJ, confused.

Kevin turned to face AJ, throwing his arms out, “This! Everything! …I can’t go through it again.”

“Damn it,” cursed AJ, crossing his arms and leaning back against the railing. “Talk straight, Kevin. Yer not makin’ any sense.”

Kevin ripped his hat off and raked a hand through his hair, “I’m talkin’ about Brian, about Nick. Damn it. I told Brian I’d try, but I don’t… I just can’t do it again.”

“I’m gonna need more to go on ‘sides that, cowboy,” AJ toned softly.

Kevin’s hand clenched around the brim of his dark hat and his black hair fell in his eyes as he shook his head, “AJ, it’s just that… There’s a reason why I’ve rode alone for so long.”

“And that reason is?” prodded AJ.

Kevin’s shoulders slumped slightly and his hat fell from his hand to the porch floor. He stepped to the railing and placed his hands on its splintered surface, leaning heavily on its support. His head hung low as he answered the tracker.

“I can’t lose anyone else. I won’t be able to handle it, not again. It almost killed me the first time,” Kevin raised his head and stared at AJ, who’s eyes widened at the tears he could see in the green gaze. “Just look at what it turned me into, AJ. I’m a cold-blooded killer with no reason to live. I should have died that day. It would have saved a lot of folks if I had.”

AJ didn’t know what to say, “Kevin-“

“So I just can’t go through it again, AJ. It’ll either kill me or turn me into something even worse than what I already am.”

Kevin let his head hang low again, gripping the railing tighter as he felt his hands tremble. He was falling apart and he hated it.

AJ stared at the gunslinger, shocked at the man’s words and utterly stunned at the confession. He knew that he was the only person that Kevin had ever told this to, and he felt the weight that it carried fall heavily onto his shoulders.

“Kevin, I-“

“No,” Kevin interrupted, shoving away from the railing. He bent down and grabbed his hat, roughly putting it back on and approaching the tracker. He stared down at the younger man. Gone were the tears and pain, wiped away leaving only an angry resignation.

“When this is over, I’m gone,” toned Kevin, holding AJ’s gaze. “Alone.”

AJ blinked, shaking his head, “Kevin, you can’t just-“

AJ suddenly broke off, cocking his head to the side. Kevin narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

“Shh…” shushed AJ, lifting a hand. They were silent for a few seconds before AJ met the gunslinger's gaze.

“Riders coming.”