"God dammit, Ezra! Are you trying to undo all the work I put into getting you healed up right?" Nathan shouted, grabbing the silver flask from the mildly inebriated Southerner. Ezra had a stronger grip on it than expected and half the whiskey ended up on the floor. Hands on his hips, Nathan glared down at the man who still occupied the bed in his clinic two weeks after taking three bullets in the leg and developing a fever. Before Ezra even had a chance to think of an answer, Nathan was yelling again, "Who gave you the whiskey? Was it Vin? Or maybe JD? You always could con either of them into doing anything."

"I did not con anyone into doing anything," Ezra declared heatedly, the whiskey and anger thickening his accent and loosening his tongue a bit more than he'd like. "And it was Buck who gave me the whiskey. Figured I'd need it to deal with your incessant harping."

"Incessant harping? Trying to keep you from going and getting another infection or getting shot again before you have a chance to heal up proper is harping? Well that's gratitude for you. Don't know why I expected anything different from you. God Almighty, I don't even know why I bother stitchin' you up sometimes!"

"Neither do I!" Ezra shouted back, struggling to get his feet to the floor so he could stand up.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, you damn fool? You're going to rip your stitches."

"It is time I emancipated myself from this prison, stitches be damned!"

"Ezra, get back in bed," Nathan grabbed the Southerner as he made it to his feet, trying to force him back down.

"Unhand me, Mr. Jackson!"

"I said, get back in bed!"

"And I said unhand me!"

Ezra's foot caught in the bedding, tripping him. Nathan saw he was about to fall, but forgot about the spilled whiskey on the floor. His own feet shot out from underneath him as he grabbed at the Southerner. They both went down in a tangle of limbs with a resounding crash, having taken the bedside table and water pitcher with them to the floor.

Nathan landed with a grunt, surprised when Ezra didn't utter a sound. He quickly rolled the gambler onto his back thinking he'd hit his head. Ezra moved back onto his side, curling himself into a fetal position as much as his leg would allow and shaking his head. The healer could see his lips moving but couldn't hear what he was saying.

"Ezra? Are you all right, Ezra? Come on, talk to me."

"I can't do this anymore," he whimpered. "I can't. I can't do it anymore."

"Can't do what, Ezra?" he asked pulling the smaller man into his arms, trying to determine if he'd injured himself. He was surprised at the tears on the Southerner's face. It always seemed like Ezra could be in enough pain to make even Chris sob, and yet he'd lay there and take it silently, only the tightening of his jaw or fist to let you know he hurt. He only ever started complaining about anything once he was on the road to recovery.

The door crashed open with a bang making both men jump. Nathan looked up to see Josiah and JD standing in the doorway concerned expressions on their faces. Nathan waved them off. "It's all right, guys. Give us a minute alone."

Josiah nodded and backed out of the room, grabbing JD's collar when he didn't follow. Once the door was closed behind them, Nathan turned back to the trembling man burrowed against his chest. "What's wrong, Ezra? What can't you do anymore?"

A shake of the head was all the answer he got. "I'm not going anywhere till you tell me what's wrong."

"You don't want to know."

"Of course I want to know. Talk to me, Ezra."

Ezra shook his head again. "You don't want to know, Nathan. You don't want to know that I'm in love with you. You don't want to know how much it hurts every time you criticize me. How every comment, every look is like a knife twisting in my heart. I'm trying to change, Nathan. I'm trying to become the sort of man you'd at least be proud to call friend. It's hard. It's so hard to forget everything I've been taught since birth, to forget every hard lesson life has taught me. But I've tried." He tried to pull away from the dark healer, but Nathan refused to let go of him. He gave up, sagging against the strong body beneath him. Nathan could hear the defeat in the Southerner's emotion roughened voice when he spoke again. "I can't do it anymore, Nathan. It's just too hard to keep trying when I know you're waiting to criticize me the moment I don't live up to your standards. I just can't."

"Oh God, Ezra," Nathan moaned, clutching the Southerner tighter as his body went limp, that honeyed voice drifting into silence. All this time he'd never realized what he was doing to him, to the man he'd found himself so undeniably attracted to. When he'd first seen the gambler in the saloon there had been a spark of attraction. Nathan had just chalked it up to nearly being hung. He'd seen it often enough during the war. After a brush with death, a man still has the adrenaline pumping through his body and a need to connect with another life. He'd understood when he'd seen men disappearing together into the underbrush together after a battle. It was a fact of life.

Then he'd seen the Southerner with the children in the Seminole village, and he'd seen there was a good man lurking beneath that self-serving, indifferent facade. It had knocked him for a loop, and he'd struggled to ignore the desire and want coursing through his body. As time went by he saw the changes in the Southerner, saw him trying to do right. He constantly criticized the man to hide his attraction, afraid that if he let himself admit the Southerner was changing he'd have to admit he might be in love with him. He'd never suspected that Ezra might love him in return.

Nathan realized suddenly that he was still sitting on the floor with the Southerner cradled in his lap. He shifted the man in his arms to check his leg, grimacing when he saw that two of the wounds were bleeding again. Knowing that Josiah and JD would still be waiting outside, he called quietly for them to come in. The door opened immediately and was filled by the large bulk of the ex-preacher.

"Everything all right, Brother?"

Nathan shook his head. "Help me get him back into bed, Josiah. I think he ripped his stitches."

"What happened?" JD asked, picking up the water pitcher and moving the broken table out of the way so they could get to the bed unhindered.

"It's a long story, JD," Nathan said, peeling the bandage back from Ezra's thigh. He sighed in relief. The stitches had pulled a little and the healing skin at one side of the wound had torn, but not enough to require more stitches or that he redo the ones already there. Nathan quickly set about cleaning, poulticing and re-bandaging the wound, then moved to the next. This one had ripped a stitch. Nathan quickly set about fixing it before Ezra came to again. Finally satisfied with his doctoring, he sat back and faced the other two men. "The short of it is we had a fight. Ezra decided he'd had enough and tried to leave. Only he got tangled in the sheets and I slipped on the damned whiskey on the floor. That's how we fell."

"Whiskey?" Josiah raised an eyebrow in question.

"That's what started the whole thing and now that I've finished re-bandaging him...Josiah, would you stay with him? If he wakes before I get back have him drink some of this tea and tell him our conversation isn't over yet."

"Of course, Nathan. Where are you going?"

"I need to have a little 'talk' with Buck. Where is he, JD?"

"He and Chris are over at the jail. Why do you need to talk to Buck?"

Nathan didn't answer as he stormed past the young man. At Josiah's nod, JD hurried after him, his mind quickly putting the pieces together. He caught up to the healer halfway across the street.

"You don't think Buck gave Ezra that whiskey, do you, Nathan? I mean, even I knew better than to give him any liquor when he asked." JD gulped. If anything, Nathan's expression got even darker than before. The younger man actually began to fear for his older "brother's" life; he'd never seen the black man so angry, not even when Ezra did something that really annoyed him.

The two men lounging in the jail’s office were on their feet the instant Nathan burst through the door. Before Buck could even think about needing to defend himself, the enraged healer slugged him in the jaw toppling him over backwards.

Nathan followed him to the ground, straddling the ladies' man's chest, using his knees to pin Buck's arms to the floor. Buck stopped struggling the instant he felt the cold steel of one of Nathan's knives pressed against his throat. He shivered at the rage he saw burning in those dark brown eyes.

"If you ever, and I mean ever, give one of my patients whiskey again while they're in my clinic, I swear I'll carve you into so many pieces, Buck, even Vin's Comanche friends'll be impressed. Understand?"

"What the hell is going on, Nathan?" Chris demanded. He kept his distance though, not knowing how to react to this side of the gentle healer they'd never seen before.

"Do you understand?" Nathan repeated when Buck didn't respond.

"Yeah! Yeah, I understand, Nate. I swear I won't do it again."

"Good." Nathan shoved him back against the floor before getting to his feet. The second he sheathed his knife Chris was next to him demanding answers.

"You better have a good explanation for that, Nathan."

"Buck gave Ezra whiskey," JD answered for him.

"You what?" Chris rounded on Buck, who'd just picked himself up off the floor. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I didn't mean no harm, Chris. He was going stir-crazy in there and wanted a drink. So I gave him some whiskey."

"And damned near killed him," Nathan snarled. It was really sinking in how close Nathan had come to losing the Southerner before he'd had a chance to tell him how he felt. He wanted to punch Buck all over again.

"What?" the three men shouted in unison.

Staring at the open concern on their faces and the true regret on Buck's, Nathan felt the fight drain out of him leaving him tired and weary.

"I only took him off the laudanum three days ago. One of those bullets hit a major muscle. Every time he so much as twitches he's in pain. I kept him on it as long as I dared, risking the chance of addiction. If he was still on it, combined with the whiskey, he could have slipped into a comatose state and never woken up. I seen it happen during the war."

"God, Nathan, I didn't know. I swear I didn't know. I'm so sorry," Buck whispered hoarsely. Without looking at the others, he hurried from the jail.

"Is he gonna be all right, Nathan?" Chris asked. He'd never admit it, but somewhere along the way the stubborn pain-in-the-ass Southern gambler had gotten through his defenses. All the men had. They were seven very different souls but they were family. The loss of just one of them could shatter the too fragile peace Chris had found. He was also afraid that if they lost the Southerner to this they would lose Buck to guilt and Nathan to heartache. Nathan had hidden his feelings from them, even from himself Chris suspected, but he'd seen the faintest trace of them now and then. It reminded him of his early relationship with Sarah. He hadn't wanted to admit he had feelings for a fine, upstanding woman like her, so he'd played the bad boy role to the hilt, criticizing her for goodness. Until the day she'd told him off and then stated in no uncertain terms that either he came to terms with the fact that he loved her or go away and stop bothering her. Three months later they were standing in front of a preacher.

"He should be. Long as he don't pull no more of these fool stunts," he answered with a shake of his head, trying to hide behind the defenses that had always worked before.

"Good. Why don't you head on back to the clinic where you can keep an eye on him, and I'll have Inez make up a tray for ya?"

Nathan nodded and left the jail, heading towards the clinic. The two men watched him go in silence.

Finally JD said, "Never seen two people so bound and determined to drive each other away rather than admit they care about each other."

Chris squeezed the younger man's shoulder. So often they underestimated him. "Something tells me Nathan may have finally figured it out. Now he's just gotta get Ezra to sit still long enough to listen to him."

Back in the clinic, Nathan found Josiah sitting in the chair next to the bed and Buck sitting on it, one hand resting on the Southerner's slow moving chest reassuring himself he was still breathing. Buck immediately stood at Nathan's entrance, guilt and regret plain to see on his face. Nathan looked to Josiah first.

"Brother Ezra has yet to awaken."

Nathan nodded then looked to Buck who stood fidgeting with his hat in his hands. "Um, Nate, can I talk to ya for a minute? I know you're mad at me an' you've got every right ta be, but I need ta talk to ya, please?"

"I think I'll go finish my conversation with JD. You boys play nice now," Josiah said heading to the door. He paused by Nathan, gently grasping his arm. "Go easy on him, Brother. He truly is sorry."

"It's alright, Josiah. I'm not gonna kill him for now."

Josiah shook his head as he closed the door behind him. Buck watched as Nathan crossed to the bed so that he could check the Southerner for a fever and just fuss over him in general. Buck couldn't help but smile at the thought of how the gambler would have a few choice things to say about the attention.

"Don't see as how you got a call to be smiling there, Buck," Nathan said without turning around.

"No. No, I reckon I don't. I really am sorry ‘bout this, Nate."

"If you're just here to apologize some more I don't want to hear it. Not now."

"I understand. I do. That's not what I wanted to talk to ya ‘bout though. Before he passed out did he talk to ya?"

"Talk to me about what?" Nathan turned to look at the ladies' man. Did he know about the gambler's feelings towards him?

"Um, well, about how he might be feeling about certain things?"

"He talked to you about it?"

Buck sighed in relief that he wasn't revealing anything the Southerner hadn't already said apparently. "Sorta. He hadn't planned on it."

"Then why…?"

"You remember that uproar you two got into ‘bout three weeks ago? Just before Ezra got shot?"

Nathan looked at him suspiciously. He'd thought no one had known about that. It had happened one night after the saloon had closed. "How do you know about that fight?"

"I had been upstairs with Miss Gracie and was just leaving when I heard the two of you yelling. Well, you yelling and Ezra making his smart-ass remarks. I didn't hear all of it; just enough to know you were pissed at him for taking some farmer's money. When you left, he smashed about three bottles of liquor against the wall before setting down on the floor with his own bottle of whiskey. It about broke my heart seeing the amount of pain he was in. He didn't want to talk at first, but you know me. I kept badgering him till he told me what was wrong. That boy loves you something fierce, Nate, and it's tearing him up that he can't ever seem to come close to living up to your expectations. That farmer he 'fleeced' that night? He'd been planning all along to ride out the next day to that homestead and giving the money back to his wife. He knew that man couldn't afford to lose that money, just as that man had no business being at a poker table when he played that badly. Hell, Ezra wasn't even playing his best and he still beat the man." Buck ran a hand through his hair, getting all worked up again, remembering the gambler's anguish that night. "I'd been hoping that giving him that whiskey would help him loosen up a little, give him the courage to finally tell you how he felt ‘bout you. I didn't think it could hurt him like that. I guess it worked though."

"Yeah, just wish it didn't have to happen quite the way it did. I know I've been pushing him too hard, Buck. I guess I was hoping that by always pointing out his faults, I could pretend I didn't care about him. Pretend I don't love him as much as I do. God, Buck, I love the stubborn Southern fool so much sometimes it hurts. I.…"

"You...you love me?"

Both men turned at the sound of the Southerner's slightly hoarse drawl. Nathan grabbed the cup of water he'd put by the bed and held it to Ezra's lips, lifting his head so he could drink. After only a couple of sips, Ezra pushed it away, but grasped Nathan's wrist, preventing him from moving.

"Did you mean it? Do you really love me?"

"Yes, Ezra," he said, gently brushing the sweat dampened hair away from the Southerner's face. "Yes, I love you."

The smile on Ezra's face plainly showed his love for the healer, but it quickly faded to a troubled frown.

"What is it? What's wrong, Ezra? Are you in pain? Is it your leg?" Nathan moved to check but Ezra stopped him.

"My leg is fine, Nathan. I just...I don't understand? If you love me then why do you...why are you always...I don't understand?" The combination of whiskey, pain from his injury, and the shock of hearing Nathan admit to loving him made it hard for Ezra to concentrate.

"I'm so sorry, Ezra. I never realized how much I was hurting you. I never meant to hurt you like that."

"But, why?"

"Because I'm even more of a stubborn fool than you."

Ezra chuckled, reaching up to brush his fingertips against the dark-skinned face of the man he'd come to love so much. "No one's that stubborn."

"Wanna bet?" Nathan chuckled, his own fingers stroking the Southerner's cheek. They both seemed to scarcely breathe as Nathan leaned down to brush his lips against the Southerner's. Tender and sweet at first, it became more passionate as they tasted each other for the first time. Licking and nipping at Ezra’s sensual lips, Nathan moaned eagerly when they parted quickly, allowing him entrance. He dipped his tongue into the moist cavern, rubbing up against the slick muscle that lay within. He barely felt Ezra’s hand curled around the nape of his neck or the other clutching the back of his shirt. Nathan did feel the hard smooth planes of his chest when Ezra arched up against him. Caressing that smooth chest, Nathan was surprised by the sound of a low rumbling purr.

The healer pulled back, raising an eyebrow at the reclining man as he asked, "Did you just purr?"

"Possibly," Ezra answered with a content smile and a shrug. "I’ve been told I do when I’m aroused. Does it bother you?"

"No, it’s fine. Just wasn’t expecting it is all."

"Good. Then come here and make me purr some more," Ezra grinned pulling Nathan back down to him. With a smile of his own, Nathan began to do just that.

Neither man noticed Buck slipping out the door and closing it behind him. A wide grin on his face, Buck trotted down the clinic steps and across the street to the saloon. The others looked up at his entrance, a bit surprised at the grin.

"A round of beers, Inez darlin’," Buck called out as he pulled out a chair, straddling it backwards at the peacekeepers’ usual table.

"Ezra awake?" Josiah asked the same time as Chris asked, "Why're you so happy?"

"Yep, Ezra ol' boy is gonna be just fine. Hell, they're gonna be better'n fine. Let me help you with that, darlin’." Buck jumped to his feet as Inez approached the table with the requested beers. Buck was twice as hyper as a kid at Christmastime. He always was when a plan of his worked out, especially those that involved getting two people together.

"Yer lookin' real pleased with yerself, Bucklin. Kinda funny considerin' ya near kilt Ezra," Vin observed dryly.

Buck stilled, the smile leaving his face. He'd forgotten Vin had a protective streak a mile wide when it came to the gambler. When asked about it the tracker would just reply, "Somebody's got to."

"Now, Vin, you know I'd never intentionally hurt Ezra like that. It just never even occurred to me that Nate might still have him on that laudanum. If anything had happened 'cause of what I did I'd never forgive myself, but I couldn't just sit back and watch him be in so much pain anymore."

"If he was hurtin' then why didn't you tell Nathan so he could give him something?" JD asked, shaking his head.

"Not that kinda hurting, kid. The kind in here," Buck put a hand over his heart. He looked around at his friends who nodded in understanding. "I know there's a fine line between love and hate, but Nathan was taking it way too far trying to pretend he didn't care ‘bout Ezra. If things kept up much longer, there's a good chance we mighta lost Ezra. I was just hoping to get him to loosen up enough to talk to Nathan. Didn't intend ta hurt him."

"We know ya didn't," JD patted his arm reassuringly.

"He was thinking of running?" Chris asked.

"Did he talk ta Nathan?" Vin wanted to know.

"Ta answer Vin first, yeah, they talked. Which is why I wouldn't suggest anybody needing Nate's medical attention for awhile. They were catchin' up on lost time when I left," Buck smirked. The smirk quickly faded though. "I don't know that running is really what he had in mind, Chris."

This made them all sit up a little straighter.

"What?" Vin and Chris demanded in unison.

"He was gonna...he was thinkin'..." JD couldn't voice the rest of the thought.

"I think you best tell us the whole story, Brother," Josiah said gently.

"Well, I'll tell ya part of it ‘cause Ezra'd kill me if I told ya everything he said. 'Bout three days before he got shot he and Nate had a big argument. It was late one night after the saloon had closed. I'd been upstairs with Miss Gracie and was just leaving when I heard them going at it. Nate was laying into him pretty badly for taking some farmer's money. Ezra was using his usual defenses. Then Nate said some pretty harsh things and stormed out. We're talkin' real nasty. If I hadn't seen it I wouldn't a believed Nathan would say something like that. At first I thought Ezra was gonna just shrug it off like he usually does. He smashed three bottles of whiskey against the wall before trying to drown himself in a fourth. He talked a little bit, but he started ta pass out pretty quickly. I helped him up ta his room. It was while I was gettin' him into bed that he mumbled out, 'Maybe it'd be better if I wasn't around.' Considerin' the mood he was in, I doubt running was exactly what he had in mind. So I had to do something."

"It's all right, Buck. You did what you thought was best," Chris reassured his friend. He looked up when Vin rose from the table. "Where you going, cowboy?"

"Me 'n Nate are gonna have a talk first chance."

"Vin, I don't think-" Josiah started.

"I ain't gonna interrupt 'em, Josiah, and I ain't gonna tell Nathan what Buck jes’ told us. But I am gonna make sure he knows that if he hurts Ezra, he's gonna answer ta me for it, and I ain't so forgivin'," Vin growled, grabbing his coat and heading out the door.

Vin moved quietly up the clinic stairs, careful to avoid the squeaky step. Not that he wanted to listen in on them; he just didn't want to disturb them. He ghosted over to the door to listen for a moment. There was the muffled sound of voices but nothing else. Satisfied, he sat down on the bench where he couldn't readily hear what was going on inside, but he could see anyone coming up the stairs. Unless it was an emergency no one would disturb the pair. Vin would see to that.

An hour passed with still no sign of Nathan. Vin nodded to the other four as they passed by at various times. Chris silently agreed to cover Vin's patrol while he sat guard outside the clinic.

Another hour passed.

Dusk was just starting to set in when the clinic door opened and Nathan emerged looking tired, but happy.

"Vin!" he said in surprise when he spotted the tracker. "How long have you been waiting? Why didn't you knock? Where are you hurt?"

"Slow down, Doc. I ain't hurt."

"Oh. Are you here to see Ezra? He's asleep right now but you can..."

"I'd like that, but in a minute. Mainly here ta talk to you."

"About Ezra," Nathan stated rather than asked, feeling defensive.

"'Bout Ezra," Vin confirmed. Cocking his head to the side, he studied the suddenly wary healer. "I been watchin' what you've been doin' to him the past year. I was gettin' ready ta step in but Buck beat me to it. I'm right glad you two finally figgered out what me an' the boys did a while ago, so I ain't gonna say much more'n that. I am gonna tell ya this though. Ezra puts up a good show, but inside he's real fragile-like. If you hurt him, Doc, you'll be answerin' ta me an' I ain't real forgivin' when it comes ta Ezra. Understand?"

"Yeah, I understand ya, Vin. I don't intend to hurt him. Didn't even realize I was hurting him as badly as I was. That's the last thing I ever want to do. I love him."

"I know ya do, Doc. Jes' wanted ya ta know where I stood." Vin touched the brim of his hat before turning to enter the clinic. Nathan's voice stopped him.

"Do you love him?"

Vin stilled for a moment then looked back at Nathan. "Reckon so. Not the same kinda love you got for him, mind you, but it's there. Guess it's kinda like the love Buck's got for JD, jes’ a little better at hidin' it." Vin paused for another moment, sorting the words in his head. "Ezra ain't never had nothin' handed to him, 'cept maybe this job. Everythin' he's got he's had ta fight ta get and fight ta hold on ta. Reckon I know what that's like. Reckon you do to. Me an' you though, we know happiness don't always haveta come with a price. He ain't ever known that 'til he met up with us. Jes' don't want ta see him hurt. You be good ta him, Doc."

"I will. I promise," he whispered when the door closed behind the tracker.

Vin sat down in the chair next to the bed, laying his hat on the floor as he briefly wondered what happened to the night table. In sleep the gambler looked so much younger than his twenty-eight years, the masks falling away leaving an open, boyishly handsome face behind. There were still some lines of pain etched in that smooth skin. Vin wasn't surprised. Hell, any man would be in pain only two weeks after taking three bullets in the leg.

Ezra shifted a little in his sleep. Seeing the grimace of pain, Vin gently put his hand to Ezra's forehead, soothing him. Nathan had asked if he loved the gambler and he did in so many ways, just not the same love Ezra had for Nathan and vice versa. That love belonged to another.

On the outside, they couldn't have been two more different people, but on the inside Vin often felt like he was looking in a mirror. They both knew what it was like to stand on the outside of something looking in and knowing you had no right to it. Even if you did have a right to it, you knew better than to care because the second you did, it was snatched away from you. They both grew up without a family. Oh, Ezra had relatives all right, and his dear sainted mother, Vin snorted at that thought, but none of them loved him. None of them had been family. They both knew hardships in their lives, and they both knew what it was to love someone and believe they hadn't a hope in hell of ever being with them. Now at least Ezra had found what he was looking for. If only it were that simple for him.

He closed his eyes, hand still on his friend's forehead, content to just listen to him breathe. A few minutes passed before he felt like he was being watched. Opening his eyes, he found a pair of glassy green eyes staring up at him. "Hey, pard."

"He loves me, Vin," Ezra smiled up at the tracker.

Vin chuckled. Nathan must have given him some more tea before he left. Even during their encounters, Ezra usually called him Mr. Tanner. "Yep, he sure does. 'Bout time ya figgered it out." He paused a moment, smoothing the silky brown hair back from his friend's face. "Ezra, ya know you can always come ta me ‘bout anything right? Don't matter what, I'll always be here for ya."

"I know, Vin. I know."

"Good. Now why don't ya go back to sleep? I'm sure ya could use the rest."

Ezra regarded him for a moment before reaching up to grasp Vin's hand and bring it down to his chest. "You need to tell him how you feel, Vin. I don't think he will be as opposed as you seem to think."

"I can't, Ez. Ain't no room fer me in his life like that, an' I won't ruin what we got now."

"Tell him, Vin. Give him a chance to love you, to find all those places that make you purr."

"Hell, Ez, ya found a lot of those places. Even some that make me howl worse'n a timber wolf from the pleasure ya give me."

They both jumped at the sound of a loud crash by the door. Turning they found Nathan standing there, the remains of a dinner tray at his feet, a stunned look on his face. They watched as the shock was first replaced by disbelief, then by pure rage.

"Nathan?" Ezra asked tremulously, hoping he hadn't just lost everything again.

"Don't even try, you no-good, cheating Southern bastard!" Nathan spun on his heel and stormed from the room.

"It'll be all right, Ez," Vin tried to reassure the stricken man before he dashed after the healer. "Nathan, wait!"

Vin finally caught up to him as he entered the saloon. Luckily it was a weeknight in early fall. Most folks were out tending their crops and their herds before winter set in leaving the saloon pretty much empty. "Ya gotta listen to me, Nathan."

He didn't get to say anything else as Nathan spun and punched him in the jaw, knocking him off his feet. People tended to underestimate his strength, he so rarely used it. The few patrons in the saloon, besides the peacekeepers, quickly scurried out the door. The one or two who didn't left after a pointed glare from Chris.

Nathan had his fists knotted in Vin's shirt, pressing him against the bar. "Why should I listen to you, Vin? Huh? You gonna tell me about you and Ezra? Tell me how it is he knows how to make you howl like a timber wolf, I think you said? That what you're gonna tell me about? ‘Cause I don't wanna hear it. I don't want to hear anything you or that cheating bastard has to say."

"Well that's jest too goddamn bad. And you ain't got no right ta accuse him a cheating," Vin growled throwing the dark man off him. "What if me an' Ez have shared a bedroll on occasion? What about you an' Rain, huh? You spent the better part of a year moonin' after her all the while tearin' Ezra down every chance ya got. So what if he found comfort with someone else? An' that's all it were is comforting. Me an' Ez both knew going into it that we loved someone else, but we were there for each other. Kept each other from running out on y'all on more'n one occasion when it got to be too much. That man loves ya more'n anything else in this world, and all you've ever done is tear him down. Now, ‘cause yer too goddamn blind ta see the truth, yer gonna destroy any hope that man ever had. Might as well just put a bullet in his head now and get it over with. Ya know, Doc, all this time I’ve been willin’ ta look past all the prejudices you seem ta have cause I knew you were a good man. No more. I ain’t gonna sit back and watch you destroy him ‘cause you think your pride’s been hurt. I won’t. You stay away from him, Nathan. You can doctor him, but you ain’t ta say nuthin’ else to him. I’ll be there ta see to it ya don’t."

Vin turned to storm out the door but was stopped by the black form of Chris. He glared up at him, daring him to challenge the rules he’d just laid out to Nathan.

Chris tilted his head to the side meeting the tracker’s gaze, and he turned over what had been said in his mind. Finally, "Think maybe you should explain what’s going on, Vin."

"Ain’t none of your business."

"Think it is since it affects all of us."

"Yer jes’ lookin’ for somethin’ else ta use against Ezra."

"No, I’m not. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on so we can figure out how to fix it."

"Fixin’ it’s real easy. Nathan’s gonna stay the hell away from Ezra."

"That’s not the answer and you know it. Talk to me, Vin."

"You really want to know what’s going on? Fine," Vin spat, knowing he was about to destroy any chance he had with the man he loved. "Me an’ Ezra have been sharin’ a bedroll on occasion for the past six months. I knew Ezra loved Nathan, and he knew I loved someone else. It was a ways of comfortin’ ‘cause we both figgered we didn’t stand a chance with the ones we really wanted. We both knew as soon as one of us finally got the courage to talk that part of it was over between us. Neither one of us cottons ta the idea of cheatin’ like that. Ezra was tryin’ ta convince me jes’ now to admit my feelings, only Nathan walked in on the end of what I said. Decided me an’ Ez were plannin’ ways of continuin’ on behind his back. Ez started ta explain but Nathan cut him off, called him a 'no-good, cheatin’ Southern bastard.' Might as well jes’ plunged a knife in his heart right then an’ there. I’m not gonna let you all hurt him no more."

"We’re not going to hurt Ezra, Vin. Isn’t that right, Nathan?" Chris growled at the healer. This whole mess had gotten so far out of hand Chris was thinking of shooting someone, anyone, just to ease the tension. They could all see the look of shock on Nathan’s face, quickly followed by remorse.

"I’m sorry, Vin," he managed around the sudden lump in his throat. "I didn’t-"

"Ya didn’t think is what ya didn’t do," Vin snarled, "and I ain’t the one whose heart ya jes’ stomped on so don’t bother ‘pologizin’ ta me."

"You’re...you’re right. I didn’t think. I-"

Before he could say anything else, Jimmy, the livery hostler, came rushing in the door calling for Chris. "Mr. Larabee! Thank God I found you. All of you. The gambler, Standish, he..."

"What about him?" Vin demanded, grabbing the breathless man by his shirtfront.

"Back off, Vin," Chris ordered before stepping into his place. "What about Ezra?"

"He showed up at the stable, Mr. Larabee. Found him trying to saddle his horse. I know he’s got that bad leg so I figured he shouldn’t be up and around. When I tried to get him to go back to the clinic, he pulled his gun on me. Held it on me while I saddled his horse for him. He got the horse to lay down so’s he could mount, then tossed me a five dollar piece and asked me to give him a ten minute head start. He took off heading south outta town."

"How long ago?" Vin demanded.

"Where’d he get clothes?" Buck wondered, knowing all they’d let him have was his night shirt.

"Did you see his leg? Was he bleeding?" Nathan wanted to know.

"I...I think he was wearing some a your clothes, Jackson, and I couldn’t get a look at his leg. I came looking for you all straight after he took off. Didn’t think he should be riding around in the condition he was in."

Nothing was said as the six men took off towards the livery bent on retrieving their lost brother.

Part 2