Chapter 11

Jared lay still on the cold, stone floor, too sick and exhausted to attempt to sit up. It wasn't fair, he thought mournfully. He'd just found Ethan, he'd finally had a chance at life. He wasn't ready to die!

He didn't know how long he lay there, trying to comfort himself with memories, with images of Ethan holding him, laughing with him, loving him. The sound of someone fumbling with the door jolted him back to reality. 'NO!' he thought desperately. 'Not yet! I'm not ready yet!'

"Jared?" a voice whispered softly. "Jared, where are you?"

"Gideon??" Jared asked incredulously. "Is that you? God, you scared me! I thought you were one of them!"

"I'm sorry," Gideon apologized as he felt his way toward the voice. "I didn't think about that."

"Never mind that now. What are you doing here? You're supposed to be gone."

"I came back for you."

"Gideon, I told you--"

"Shhh! Stop wasting time arguing. Rose and I talked about it and we caught Dulce. We couldn't get any of the other horses, but I tried that whistle you use and she came to me. Rose is holding her back in the trees. If I can get you that far and we can get you up on her back, then you won't slow us down."

Jared hesitated for a long moment, aware that he should send Gideon away, that he would still be a liability, but he couldn't do it. "All right," he said shakily. "Help me up."

Gideon knelt and Jared put his good arm over the other man's shoulder. After a couple of false starts they got to their feet and waited until Jared caught his breath, then headed out the door.

"Close it," Jared whispered, shivering in the cold air. "Like we're still there."

Gideon awkwardly closed the door without losing his grip on Jared and they started the long, slow trip across the open meadow. Even with Gideon's support Jared had a hard time staying on his feet, and every step/hop jarred his shoulder. The moon was coming up, both helping and hindering their progress. It made it easier to see the large obstacles but the shifting shadows hid the small ones and made it easy to imagine someone standing behind every bush. They stumbled often, further jarring Jared's shoulder and making him bite his lips against any outcry.

They were about halfway to safety when the bunkhouse door opened and light streamed out, highlighting their position. They shrank back into the shadows and froze as one of the outlaws came out, looking back over his shoulder as he spoke to someone still inside. They hardly dared breathe. If he came toward the root cellar or barn he couldn't help but see them. "Get ready to run, Gideon," Jared breathed softly. "Leave me if you have to."

"No," Gideon whispered in his ear, the sound all but inaudible.

To their intense relief, the burly man went no further than the woodpile, grabbing up a huge armload of wood before heading back into the cabin, swearing bitterly at the cold. They remained frozen, waiting to see if he made a second trip, but the door remained closed and at last they resumed their trek toward the clump of trees.

"Where are they?" Jared whispered when they finally arrived in the grove, unable to see anything in the darkness.

"I don't know, they must be around here somewhere." Gideon tried not to panic as they searched fruitlessly. "I know this is where I left them!"

"Call Dulce," Jared suggested hoarsely.

Gideon gave the odd two-toned whistle that Ethan used to call his horses and they were rewarded by a short whicker, quickly cut off. A few moments later the girls came into sight, leading Dulce by a makeshift halter fashioned from Beth Ann's white pinafore.

"Sorry," Rose apologized in a low voice. "We weren't sure if it was you or the outlaws. Take the halter, Agnes."

"I don't know anything about holding horses," the blonde girl protested. "What if it bites me?"

"Take the halter, Beth Ann," Rose said with a sigh.

As Beth Ann held Dulce's head and stroked her nose, Rose and Gideon managed, with some difficulty, to get Jared up onto her back. Once there, he threaded the fingers of his good hand into the coarse mane and grimly held on.

"Let's go," Gideon whispered. "Rose, if you can lead her, I'll walk beside Jared and help keep him steady."

"Let me bandage your wrists first," Rose replied softly. "You're still bleeding." She had two strips of cloth that she'd saved from Beth Ann's pinafore and she quickly wrapped one around the young man's right wrist and tied the ends in a rough knot, then repeated the procedure on the left one. "That's the best I can do," she sighed. "Let's go."

She took the halter and they started off, moving slowly at first. The branches and undergrowth seemed to reach out and snatch at them, as if trying to hold them back, while the rocks and tree roots twisted under their feet, tripping them over and over again. The girls were sobbing under their breath as they stumbled along, and Gideon felt like crying himself. 'Oh, Damien,' he thought forlornly. 'Please find us soon.'

Jared tried to pay attention at first, but soon sank into a dark haze, not quite unconscious, but only marginally aware of what was going on around him. The world was reduced to darkness, the feel of his hand in the thick mane, and a grim determination to stay on Dulce's back no matter what. Sometime later he realized that they had halted and there was an agitated discussion going on.

"What's wrong?" he asked thickly.

"I don't know for sure where we are," Rose replied, her voice trembling with strain. "I think we're going south, but we're going uphill and you said not to go uphill."

"We're lost," Agnes accused bitterly. "You insisted that we escape and we did, even though *I* didn't see the need for it and now we're lost in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere and we're all going to die of exposure or be eaten by wild animals and I've fallen down and skinned my knees and ripped my favorite dress and I hate this and I hate you and I want to go--OWWWWW!" Her rising voice ended in a screech of pain. "You SLAPPED me!"

"And I'll do it again if you don't shut up," Rose replied evenly, dusting her hands together. "I'm sorry Jared, I know we're asking a lot, but do you have any idea what we should do?"

Jared fought to think clearly, trying to remember the terrain north of town. "West," he replied at last.

"West?" Gideon asked doubtfully. "Isn't town south?"

"Southwest. Wagon road west of here." Jared paused for breath. "Follow it south. Easier walking. Faster. Leave it again before daylight."

"All right," Gideon replied. "If we keep the moon behind us we'll be going west, right?"

"Yeah," Jared muttered, sinking back into his daze.

When it seemed like they had been walking all night, they came to a wagon track going off to the southwest. It was little more than parallel depressions in the dried grass, but after the trek through the woods it seemed like a highway. With multiple sighs of relief, they stopped to rest.

"Do you want to get down, Jared?" Gideon asked hesitantly.

Jared shook his head wearily. "Water?" he croaked.

Gideon and Rose looked at each other in dismay. The only canteen they had was empty.

"We don't have any," Gideon replied apologetically. "We drank it all."

"S'okay," Jared murmured, closing his eyes once more.

"Why do we have to hurry like this?" Agnes asked petulantly as she sat on a convenient rock to catch her breath. "They aren't going to come after us. They're afraid of the posse."

Jared knew the answer, but had to struggle to get it into words. "Barstow holds grudges," he whispered at last. "We're making him look bad. And he thinks they lost the posse."

They all contemplated the information for a moment, Agnes with skepticism, Rose and Gideon with fear and resignation. "We'd better get going then," Gideon sighed. "At least walking will help keep us warm. Come on, Beth Ann." He gently helped the weary little girl to her feet.

Walking was easier on the road and they made better time. They hurried as fast as they could, stopping for a brief rest only when they couldn't go any farther.

"I'm tired," Beth Ann whimpered suddenly, plopping down in the middle of the track. "And hungry. Can I eat the rest of my sandwich now?"

Rose looked at Gideon questioningly.

"We'd better not," he said reluctantly. "I think it would only make us thirstier. We'd better wait till we find some water."

"All right," the little girl whispered, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Will that be very long?"

"I don't know," he said honestly, then added impulsively, "Why don't we put you up behind Jared for a while?"

"Is that wise?" Rose asked, drawing him to one side. "Can Dulce carry the extra weight?"

"She doesn't weigh that much," he replied softly, "and Dulce carried both Jared and me yesterday. Besides, she's slowing us down. I think we can make better time if she's riding."

He went back and lifted Beth Ann, settling her behind Jared with an admonition to be careful of his shoulder. As she gingerly put her arms around the injured man's waist, Agnes stomped over.

"Why does she get to ride?" the blonde asked indignantly.

"Because she's tired and can't walk very fast," Gideon replied.

"Well, I'm tired too, and I'm getting blisters on my feet. I think we should draw lots for the chance to ride. Get down, Beth Ann."

"No," Gideon said firmly.

"You can't say no," Agnes told him hotly. "It's not your horse. It's Jared's. Make him take turns, Jared."

"No," Gideon repeated more forcefully. "You leave Jared out of this. I made the decision that Beth Ann is riding, because she's little and she can't keep up. That decision stands. You can either walk or sit here. It's up to you."

He took Dulce's halter and started down the road, Rose walking along side.

"I hate you!" Agnes wailed, running after them. "You just wait till my father hears about this!"

Gideon ignored her and kept walking.

"Don't worry about it," Rose said softly. "You're right. Beth Ann was slowing us down, and Jared couldn't take people switching places and jostling him all the time."

They walked on and on, and the steep terrain with its dense woods and undergrowth gradually changed. The slope flattened and the trees became farther apart with grassy clearings between them. The sky was lightening when Gideon stopped suddenly.

"I hear water," he said.

"So do I." Rose strained to hear. "Over there, I think."

A few yards away from the road they found a small waterhole fed by a bubbling spring. "Wait," Gideon said as they all gathered excitedly around it. "Fill the canteen first."

As soon as the canteen was full, the girls all knelt next to the water and began scooping it up, spilling it down their chins as they drank eagerly from their cupped hands.

"Jared?" Gideon said gently. "I have water for you. Why don't you get down and rest for a few minutes?"

Jared painfully untangled his fingers from Dulce's mane and slid off her back into Gideon's arms. Gideon staggered under the sudden weight.

"Sorry," Jared whispered huskily, drinking thirstily from the canteen the other young man held to his lips.

"Careful. Not too much at a time," Gideon warned, pulling it back. He gently lowered the injured man to the ground and helped him settle against a rock, then looked around. Rose was standing with Dulce, one hand on her neck as she drank from the waterhole.

"I think we need to stay here and rest for a little while," she said softly as Gideon approached her. "Everyone is worn out."

"I know," he replied, handing her the canteen. "Why don't you rest and eat your sandwiches, now that we have water to go with them. I'm going to look around and see if I can find a place for us to hole up for a while."

"All right," she agreed.

Gideon walked as far as he dared in each direction, but had no luck finding any hiding place big enough for the five of them. There were no caves and no rocks big enough to hide among. He remembered stories of people hiding in trees, but the deciduous trees were bare and the evergreens weren't thick enough, even if they could get Jared into one. They'd just have to keep going and hope that they found the posse before the outlaws found them.

He found his way back to the others, who were settled around the little spring, all asleep. Dulce contentedly cropped grass nearby and he sat down near her. He'd rest and keep watch for a few minutes, he thought tiredly. He closed his eyes, just to rest them, just for a moment.

~~~~

Ethan napped off and on through the night, but he was up again well before daylight, unable to rest any longer. He cooked and ate a sketchy breakfast in the lonely cabin, missing the bright, capable young man terribly. Afterwards, he made up the bed, banked the fires, and went out to do chores by lantern light.

He fed the mares, pointedly ignoring Dulce's empty stall, then scattered feed for the chickens. A small rabbit peered at him from under a nearby bush, and he smiled, remembering Jared's antics with one of its forebears. As he turned away he saw the turned soil that outlined their future garden. Everywhere he looked there were signs of Jared's presence and personality.

He turned the mares out into the pasture and closed the barn doors. They'd be all right outside where they could reach grass and water, even if he didn't get back right away. He saddled Lucifer and rode out, pausing at the edge of the clearing to look back at his home. He wouldn't be back until he had Jared with him.

Damien was already at the meeting place when he got there, and grunted a hello in return to his greeting, intent on his patient search for sign. "This way," he said at last, starting off on foot, leading his horse. Ethan silently followed. An hour or so later, they caught up with the posse, milling about as they tried to find the trail they had lost again.

"Ethan," Dash greeted him with an easy grin. "Come to join us? Where's Jared?"

"The outlaws have him," Ethan replied tersely. "This is Damien Silver Fox."

"We met in town a while back," Dash said, nodding toward Damien. "What's the story?"

"Jared and Gideon, Damien's partner, were supposed to meet us with lunch yesterday. They never showed up, and they would have been riding along the creek about the time your gang was. Damien found signs of a struggle and blood in the grass."

Dash frowned. "Sorry to hear that, Ethan. Sounds like we'd better get moving, then. You're a tracker?" he asked Damien. "We could really use you. We're having real trouble following this trail."

He called the rest of the men over, introducing Damien and explaining that he'd take the lead from now on.

"Do you think we have a chance of finding them?" Delaney asked, reining in next to them.

"I'll offer any reward you think is suitable," Percival Rogers said pleadingly. "Just find my girl for me."

"I'm sure he'll do his best," Dash intervened, taking off his hat and running a hand through his curly hair. "Let's just all stay back and let him work."

They all watched respectfully as Damien carefully searched the area, his eagle eyes missing nothing.

"This way," he said at last, starting off on foot.

A short while later, they were at the site where Gideon and the others had eaten their lunch.

"They stopped here," Damien said. "Stay back."

They all stayed on their horses and out of the way, some checking their ammunition, others getting a drink or a bite to eat.

"He's good," Dash commented to Ethan. "He's moving a lot faster than we were on our own."

"Let's hope it's fast enough," Ethan replied grimly.

"They were all here," Damien announced just then.

"How can you tell?" Dash asked, as the worried men pushed forward.

"There's not much trace of the outlaws but there's signs of the captives. There's a print from a woman's walking shoe here," he said, pointing it out. "And here's one from a woman's riding boot." He crouched and traced the faint outline with his finger. "And there's a small handprint here, as well. That would be the child."

"What about Jared and Gideon?" Ethan asked, his mouth dry.

"Jared is the one wounded."

Ethan swallowed hard. "How badly, can you tell?"

"How do you know it's Jared?" Dash asked.

"One of them squatted next to this tree. See the heel prints? They're worn and Jared's boots are nearly new. And there's blood on the bark here, about shoulder height of someone sitting down. He reached behind him and brushed away the duff and pulled the bark loose at ground level to catch my eye. Gideon wouldn't know to do that."

"I don't understand," Dash said. "Why didn't they see this and wipe it out like they did their tracks?"

"Arrogance? Habit?" Damien guessed. "They're still hiding their trail but they're getting careless. They're certain they lost us by now."

"Is it possible," Ethan asked, "that they're all used to removing the traces of their own presence, but nobody thought to do it for the prisoners?"

"That would make sense," Dash said. "They've become disorganized since they lost Dutton. That will make it easier for us when we catch up to them."

"How soon do you think that will be?" Jeb Carson asked Damien respectfully.

"Hard to tell," Damien said. "We're making good time now, but a lot depends on when they stopped for the night and how early they got started this morning."

"Let's get moving, then," Dash ordered, and they continued on.

~~~~

Barstow rolled over in his bunk and reached for the whiskey bottle on the floor next to him. It was empty and he sat up, shivering. "Somebody throw some wood on that fire," he ordered brusquely. "Muley, you go get some wood. Pete, you get started on breakfast. Skeet, you're on lookout."

Grunting and groaning, the other outlaws rolled from their bunks and pulled on their hats and boots. As Pete stirred up the fire, Muley and Skeet shrugged into their coats, squinting as they went out into the sunlight.

"Gawd, my head aches," Skeet groaned. "Why do I get stuck with lookout? There ain't nobody within 10 miles of here."

"Hey, Muley!" Pete yelled from the doorway. "Get me some flour from the root cellar while you're out there!"

"How the hell am I supposed to carry wood and flour both?" Muley grumbled. "Do I look like a packhorse?"

"You get the wood, I'll get the flour," Skeet said. "Maybe I can get something hot to eat before I go up on the hill."

Muley grabbed an armload of wood and carried it in to the cabin. "Skeet's getting your flour," he told Pete.

"BARSTOW!"

At Skeet's bellow, Muley dropped the wood and he and the rest of the outlaws grabbed their guns, falling over the wood and each other as they ran for the door.

"Barstow, they're gone! Them damned kids is gone!" Skeet yelled, running toward the cabin.

"What do you mean, gone?" Barstow demanded furiously. "How the hell can they be gone? Who was guarding them last night?"

They all looked at each other.

"Nobody," Clem admitted at last. "Nobody wanted to stay out in the cold all night so we tied 'em up and left 'em."

Barstow let out a string of oaths describing both the questionable intelligence and parentage of his men. "Get saddled up. We're going after them."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Clem asked uneasily. "They'll be headed back toward the posse."

The others murmured in agreement.

"This hideout is only safe as long as no one knows about it," Barstow said flatly. "Those kids reach the posse and they'll lead it straight back here."

"Seems to me we ought to make tracks the other direction, then," Pete pointed out.

"This is a good hideout and I ain't losin' it because of those brats," Barstow spat. "We're goin' after them."

"I don't know," one of the other men said. "I'm with Pete."

"Pete ain't the leader, I am, and we're doin' what I say!"

"Maybe Pete should be the leader," the man said recklessly. "So far you've screwed up the bank robbery, ran into Jared and left enough sign there for a blind man to see, and then you couldn't even hold on to three women, a tenderfoot and a cripple. Maybe it's time we tried another leader for a while."

"Maybe it's time you shut up!" Barstow bellowed, pulling his revolver and cocking it. "Now. Anyone else want to argue about it?"

No one did.

Chapter 12

Gideon half-woke, shivering. Why was he so cold? Damien must have taken all the covers again. He turned over, intending to retrieve his share of the bedclothes and snuggle against the warm, hard body of his lover, but when he reached out his hand closed on... dried grass?

"What the...!" he exclaimed. Why was he outside? Where was Damien? Then it all came flooding back to him. It was mid-morning! He'd been on watch and he'd fallen asleep!

"Oh, SHIT!" he yelled as he leaped to his feet. "Rose! Agnes, Beth Ann! Wake up! We have to get moving."

Rose jumped up, dislodging Beth Ann, who was cuddled against her side for warmth.

"Oh, NO! Get up, Beth Ann. Come on, Agnes."

Everyone was stiff and sore from lying on the cold, hard ground, but they all warmed up as they hurried around, catching Dulce, getting drinks of water to help fill their empty stomachs, and filling the canteen for later. Nobody had much to say; even Agnes was uncharacteristically silent.

"I'm sorry," Gideon said wretchedly. "I don't know how I could have been so stupid."

"It's all right," Rose replied soothingly. "You weren't the only one that fell asleep. We were all tired."

"But I should have stayed awake." The young man refused to be consoled, feeling very much a failure. Everyone was depending on him and he couldn't even stay awake! "How are you doing?" he asked as he knelt beside Jared and helped him sit up.

"Okay," Jared replied, shivering, his eyes bright with fever.

"I walked around earlier, and there's no shelter anywhere close. What should we do? Stay on the road and make better time or get off the road and go slower but look for a place to hide?"

"They'll have missed us by now," Jared muttered huskily, squinting at the sun. "We have to get off the road." He looked at the landmarks around them, trying to place where they were. "South, for now."

"Are we ready to go?" Rose joined them.

"I think so," Gideon replied. "Do you want a drink before we start, Jared?"

Jared shook his head, then gritted his teeth, determined not to cry out as they helped him to his feet. Every bone and muscle in his body ached and his head felt as if someone were pounding on it with a large hammer. Every movement was agonizing, and by the time he was on Dulce's back he was sweating in spite of the cold. He held his breath and concentrated on not throwing up as they lifted Beth Ann up behind him.

"Am I hurting you?" she asked anxiously as she carefully slipped her arms around his waist.

He shook his head slightly, then regretted the movement, sure that his head was going to fall off and almost hoping that it would.

They set off, walking as quickly as they could, looking over their shoulders anxiously for any signs of pursuit. After an hour or so of walking they came to a narrow creek and stopped to fill the canteen again.

"Can we rest for a minute?" Agnes asked plaintively. "I'm tired and my feet hurt."

Rose looked at Gideon.

"All right," Gideon said reluctantly, trying to balance the need for rest with the need for speed. "But not for very long. Rose, can you get Jared a drink? I'm going to climb that little hill over there and see if I can see anything."

The grassy hill wasn't very high and its gentle slope was easy to climb. Soon Gideon stood on the top, looking around. He looked first in the direction of home, wondering if he could see the cabin or any familiar landmarks that would give them an idea of how far they had to go. Nothing was obvious and he sighed. Undoubtedly, if he got Jared up here, the other young man would know exactly where they were and how far they had to go, but he didn't. He didn't even know if this was their creek or another one miles away. He gazed out across the landscape, looking for any signs of habitation, any place that they might find people who could help them. Nothing. He sighed again and was turning to go back down and break the bad news when a movement off in the distance caught his eye. He looked back eagerly. It was a horse! No, more than one, a whole bunch of horses, with riders, coming out of the woods and crossing an open meadow. It must be the posse! He couldn't see the men in any detail, but he was almost positive that the horse in the lead was Damien's bay, and the big black behind it would be Lucifer. They were saved! He ran down the hill, shouting the good news to the others. "The posse! I see the posse!"

"Where? Which direction? Is my father with them? What about the outlaws?" The questions came at him hard and fast.

The outlaws! He'd been so excited about seeing the posse that he hadn't even looked. God, he was so *stupid*! "Get moving. That direction," he ordered them. "I'm going to go back up for another look."

He raced back up the hill and stood panting at the top, looking back the way they'd come, and his heart sank. There was another group of riders coming toward them, apparently following their trail with ease. One, two, three... There were only six of them. Evidently Barstow hadn't convinced all of them to come back. Six was more than enough, though, and they were closer than the posse. Worse, the outlaws knew they were close, and the posse didn't. It was still following their original trail. He tore back down the hill, falling and rolling halfway down, stopping himself with difficulty, ignoring the renewed pain in his hands and wrists.

He caught up with the others. "Faster," he gasped. "Outlaws. Behind us. Hurry."

Both Agnes and Rose gasped and broke into a half-run, stumbling on the rough ground, and Dulce, led by Rose, broke into a trot to keep up.

"Wait! Stop!"Jared gasped as he was jolted back and forth by the motion. "Stop!" He slid from Dulce's back and collapsed to the ground, taking Beth Ann with him. "I can't go that fast," he gasped. "Hurts too bad. I can't."

"You have to!" Gideon said frantically. "They're coming!"

"I can't!" the other young man insisted hoarsely. "Go on without me. It's me Barstow wants. I'll slow them down for you."

"He wants all of us," Gideon declared, but he wavered. Safety was so close. Jared was right. He could either slow them down or slow Barstow down. All they had to do was leave him and it would buy them a little time. "Go on," he told Rose roughly. "All of you. Take Dulce and get the posse. I'll stay here with Jared."

"You can't--" Rose started to protest.

"GO!" Gideon shouted desperately. "The three of you can ride that far. Put Beth Ann between you and go. Bring the posse back. Hurry!"

Rose started to protest again, then abruptly turned and shoved Agnes in Dulce's direction instead. "Come on," she ordered, scrambling up on the horse's back and holding out her hand to Beth Ann. Gideon lifted the little girl up behind her and then boosted Agnes up, as well. It was an awkward load and Dulce shied nervously.

"Pass the lead over her neck and tie it to the other side of the halter," Rose urged.

Gideon did so, and Rose took the makeshift reins. "Hold on tight," she told the other girls and kicked Dulce into a trot. "Hang on, we'll be back as soon as we can," she called over her shoulder.

Gideon watched them go, then swallowed hard and turned to Jared.

"You don't have to do this," the other man said weakly. "You can still catch up with them."

"Let's get out of the open," Gideon replied, getting Jared's good arm over his shoulder and helping him up.

Nearby, a huge oak tree had fallen across two smaller trees, bending them to the ground and forming a sort of cave from the branches. Gideon helped Jared into this hollow and settled down next to him. "I have the canteen," he said anxiously. "Would you like a drink?"

Jared shook his head mutely, leaning back as well as he could and closing his eyes, almost at the end of his strength.

Gideon wasn't sure how long they waited there. It seemed both an eternity and only a few minutes before he heard hoofbeats approaching. "Jared?" he asked, fighting to keep the panic out of his voice. "Now what?"

"Stay down," Jared whispered, almost too tired to speak. "Don't give him a clear shot... keep him talking."

The outlaw gang swept into the clearing at a fast trot, and for a wild instant Gideon thought they were going to keep right on going, missing the young men's hiding place. At the last moment, however, one of them glanced back and yelled.

"Barstow! They're over there!"

They came to a halt, forming a loose semi-circle in front of the fallen tree.

"Well, well," Barstow said with a nasty grin, settling back in his saddle. "If it isn't two of our runaways. Why don't you make it easy on yourself and come on out here?"

"We're fine where we are," Gideon replied shakily, mindful of Jared's warning.

"Not for long." Barstow spat complacently. "Where's those damned girls?"

"Gone. Out of your reach. And you'd better get out of here, too," the young man warned him. "The posse will be here any minute."

A couple of the men looked wary at that, backing their horses nervously, but Barstow wasn't cowed by the threat.

"Nice try," he sneered mockingly. "But we all know that bunch of hicks ain't within miles of here."

"They are too!" Gideon swore. "I saw them myself!"

"Barstow," one of the other men interjected. "Maybe--"

"SHUT UP!" the surly outlaw snarled. "I'm gettin' tired of you arguin' with me all the time! He's bluffing. There ain't no posse and I'm tired of this bullshit! I'll give you one last chance, boy." His voice became menacing. "You tell me where Dutton's gold is and what you did with the girls by the time I count to three and you can walk away. Otherwise, I'll kill you, right now." He pulled his revolver from its holster.

Gideon swallowed hard.

"He won't let you go," Jared warned him desperately. "He'll kill you as soon as you stand up."

Gideon knew that was true, but he was so scared that it was hard not to take the chance. God, where was Damien??

"Fine, then!" he shouted as defiantly as he could. "But don't blame me when they catch you!"

"ONE!"

Gideon slid further into the hollow, cowering behind the branches.

"TWO!"

"Oh, God, I don't want to die!" Gideon moaned, curling into a tight ball and squeezing his eyes shut.

"I'm sorry. My fault," Jared whispered, tears running down his cheeks. "Oh, Ethan!"

"THREE!"

Gideon put both hands over his ears, as if it would help. "DAMIEN!" he shouted desperately as two shots rang out, followed closely by two more.

There was a long pause as Gideon realized that he was still alive. "Jared?" he whispered, not daring to open his eyes.

"Gideon?" Jared's whisper was equally quiet.

They both opened their eyes just in time to see Barstow slowly topple out of the saddle and hit the ground with a dull thud. As if that were a signal, pandemonium broke out around them. The remaining outlaws began exchanging fire with the two men crouched behind a nearby deadfall, then whirled their wildly plunging horses and ran, shouting and cursing, as the thunder of hooves and yet more gunfire announced the arrival of the posse.

"DAMIEN!" Gideon leaped from their shelter, running toward the big man, who snatched him up and hugged him until he gasped for breath.

"Little Rain," he murmured, burying his face in the curly hair.

As Gideon began a disjointed and slightly hysterical explanation to Damien, Ethan holstered his gun and ran to where Jared lay. He knelt, pulled Jared free of his hiding place, and cradled him in his arms.

"Ethan," the young man sighed thankfully, awkwardly trying to get his good arm around the older man. "You're here."

"We saw Gideon on top of the hill," Ethan explained, brushing the damp, sweaty hair away from Jared's face, "so we were already on our way. When the girls came tearing through the trees yelling, we didn't wait for the posse. We heard Gideon standing up to Barstow, but we had to find a place where we could get a good shot at him." He hugged the young man once more, then placed him gently on the ground. "Lie back and let me have a look at you, all right?"

"He can't lay flat," Gideon warned him anxiously as he and Damien came over, Damien's arm still around his shoulder. "The bullet is still in his back. And he hurt his leg again, too."

"I'll hold him," Damien said, reluctantly releasing Gideon to kneel beside them. "You want his coat off?"

"Not just yet," Ethan replied. "If it's stuck to the wound, I don't want to pull it away until I have something to staunch the bleeding."

Jared protested weakly, but allowed Ethan to gently lean him back against Damien's arm and remove the sling, then unbutton his coat and ease it away from the wound.

"I think it broke my collarbone," he said, gasping in agony and trying to pull away as the older man carefully probed his shoulder.

"It did," Ethan confirmed. Jared's shirt was covered with dried and crusted blood and stuck to the skin around the bullet hole, and Ethan examined the wound but didn't try to pull the fabric away.

He gestured for Damien to lean Jared forward so he could look at his back. "Stay still now, little boy, and let me see what we're dealing with back here."

He lightly ran his fingers along Jared's upper back until the young man jerked and cried out.

"I can feel it just under the skin," he told Damien. "It shouldn't be hard to cut out. Can you get my saddlebags?"

"You're not going to do it here, are you?" Gideon asked, wide-eyed, as Damien released Jared and went to get the bags.

"No, we'll have the doctor do that," Ethan assured him. "But I have some medicine for him and I want to wrap his knee and bandage his arm to his chest before we move him. Jared, I need you to drink this," he added as Damien returned with the saddlebags and handed him a small flask.

Jared took a swallow from the flask held to his lips, then gagged and tried to turn his head away from the bitter tea.

"Come on, little boy." Ethan held it to his lips again. "Drink it all. We need to bring down your fever and slow the infection."

"We gave him water as often as we could," Gideon said anxiously. "We didn't have anything else."

"You did just fine, Gideon. It looks like you were injured, too." He gestured at the tatters of cloth still wrapped around Gideon's wrists.

"Yeah, that happened while Jared was trying to cut the rope with a piece of glass," Gideon replied, suddenly aware of the pain.

Ethan raised his eyebrow, but didn't ask for an explanation. There would be time for the whole story later. "Damien, there's a package of herbs and some witch hazel and bandages in the other saddlebag. I'd like to get this covered, and you probably want to do Gideon's wrists, too."

"Is there any food?" Gideon asked hopefully as Damien brought out the medical supplies. "I'm starving."

He was trying to stuff cold meat and biscuits in his mouth as Damien struggled to clean and bandage the continually moving wrists when they heard horses approaching. Both men dropped what they were doing and grabbed their guns, instantly ready to protect their partners.

"It's just us," Ross Delaney called as he rode into the clearing, leading Dulce and closely followed by Rogers and Carson. Rose and Agnes were mounted in front of their fathers and Beth Ann was held tightly in her uncle's arms.

"How is he?" Delaney asked Ethan as he dismounted and helped Rose down. "Rose said he was badly injured."

"They also said that they wouldn't have made it without your boys' help," Rogers added. "Whatever reward you want, it's yours." He stroked Agnes' tangled blonde ringlets as Carson nodded in agreement.

"He was shot, but the bullet didn't hit anything vital," Ethan replied as he sprinkled yarrow and St. John's wort on the wound, then placed a cloth pad over it and tied it in place. "I'd like to get him home and treated, though. Infection is setting in already." He positioned Jared's left hand on his right shoulder and began bandaging the arm to his chest.

"Do we need to wait for the posse to come back?" Carson asked. "I'd like to get Beth Ann home, too. My wife will be frantic."

"What about the body?" Rogers asked, indicating Barstow, still lying where he had fallen.

"They'll pick it up when they come back," Delaney answered him. "I don't know if we need to wait or not, but they shouldn't be very long. They shouldn't have trouble catching up with the rest of the outlaws."

"That wasn't all of them." Gideon looked up as Damien finished bandaging the wrist he had finally snagged. "It was only about half."

"Half? Maybe we'd better wait and tell Dash that, then. He'll want clear directions back to their hideout."

Gideon looked doubtful. "I don't know if we can give clear ones. It was dark."

"What kind of place was it?" Ethan asked, then clarified his question as Gideon looked puzzled. "Were there buildings? Tents? Was it like a ranch or a fort?"

"Oh," Gideon's face cleared. "It was a ranch, I think. There was a barn and a bunkhouse."

"There was an old chimney standing in some ruins," Rose volunteered.

"Ring any bells?" Ethan asked the other men. "Lie still, Jared," he added as he probed the young man's knee.

They all shook their heads as Damien silently moved back into position, holding Jared steady during the painful examination.

"I'm going to bandage his knee and then we're heading back," Ethan decided. "I need to get him home."

The others stood silent, all seeing the need for someone to remain behind, but no one willing to be that someone. Fortunately, Dash and the posse returned before they needed to make a decision. Four of the remaining outlaws were with them, hands and feet tied to their saddles, and the last one was slung over his horse like a sack of meal, while two members of the posse were nursing wounds of their own..

"How's Jared?" Dash asked, swinging down and coming over to them.

"I need to get him home," Ethan repeated. "Gideon says this wasn't the whole gang, though. Half of them stayed back at the hideout."

Dash listened to the description of the hideout, then turned to the other members of the posse. "Anyone recognize it?"

"Sounds like King's Canyon," one of the older men said. "King had a fire 'bout 8, 10 years ago. Moved further west instead of rebuilding."

"You know how to find it?" Dash asked. At the old man's nod, he continued, "All right, Hanks, Job, Forbes, you take these prisoners back to town. The rest of us will go after the others. Ethan, Damien, thank you for all your help. You too, Gideon. This should put an end to this gang once and for all." He shook their hands. "I'll stop and see how Jared is doing on my way back to town."

After making arrangements to talk to the others when he got back to Solitude, he remounted and the posse headed back up into the hills. Ethan finished his work on Jared's knee, then packed up the saddlebags and handed them to Damien, who put them back on Lucifer.

"Come on, Jared, time to go home," he said, standing up. "Damien, could you hand him up to me?"

Once he was in the saddle, Damien carried Jared over to him and Ethan settled the half-conscious young man crosswise in front of him and wrapped him in the blanket that Damien handed to him. Damien tied Dulce's lead rope to his saddle, then mounted and held out a hand to Gideon who got up behind him, wrapping both arms around his waist. Damien stayed toward the back of the group and Gideon leaned his head on the broad back with a heartfelt sigh. It had been a long 24 hours. Damien's big hand closed over his clasped hands, expressing his emotion without the need for words. Ahead of them, Jared lay with his head on Ethan's shoulder, drifting in and out of consciousness, but always aware of the strong arms keeping him safe. They reached the point where they turned off for the ranch and paused.

"I don't know how to thank you enough," Delaney said awkwardly. "Rose is the most important thing in the world to me."

"If there's anything we can do, any reward we can offer you, let us know," Rogers added, and Carson nodded assent.

"If you could tell the doctor that we need him, I'd appreciate it," Ethan said, shifting Jared a little in his arms.

"We'll send him straight out," Carson promised.

The group split up then, Ethan and Damien turning toward the ranch and the rest going on toward town. It was growing dark when they got back to the cabin and carried their sleeping partners inside. Damien put Gideon in the chair and covered him with a quilt, patting his leg and soothing him into a deeper sleep when he whimpered at the loss of contact. Once the young man had settled down, the taciturn man built up the fires, put water on to boil, and went out to take care of the horses.

Ethan laid Jared on the bed, propping him up with pillows. "Hurts," Jared muttered restlessly, licking dry, chapped lips.

"Shh, I know, little boy. We'll get you more comfortable in a minute." He unlaced the young man's boots and pulled them off, smiling a little at the sigh of relief that followed.

Lighting a lamp, he set it next to the bed and undressed Jared, carefully cutting his shirt around the gunshot wound, leaving that piece of fabric in place. He covered him with the quilt and went to get his medicines and make the poultices he would need. He was testing the water to see if it was warm enough to use when Gideon stirred.

"Damien? Where are you?" he cried, jerking upright. "Damien!"

"He went outside, Gideon," Ethan replied. "He'll be back in a minute."

"Oh." Gideon got up and went over to stand by the stove, wrapping his arms around himself against the chill. "Can I help?"

"There's a pan of beans in the pantry," the older man told him. "Why don't you put it on the stove to heat while I take care of Jared?"

Ethan poured hot water into a bowl and added several herbs to it, then took more water and some clean cloths back to the bed. Uncovering Jared to the waist, he began bathing him, washing away the dirt and dried blood and soaking the remnants of the shirt loose. Jared moaned as he gently sponged the large bruised area on his chest, then cleaned the wound itself.

"Don't. Hurts," he protested weakly, trying to twist away.

"Shh. I know, little boy, but it has to be done." Ethan held him still with one hand as he worked, moving as quickly and efficiently as possible. He didn't realize that Damien had come back inside until the big man was beside him, silently handing him the bundle of herbs to place over the open wound, and then the bandages he needed to cover it.

More herbs and bandages went on the injured knee, then Damien handed Ethan a mug. "Willow tea," he said simply. "Chores are done. We'll be going now."

"Are you sure?" Ethan asked. "You're welcome to eat and stay the night."

Damien shook his head. "Gideon will sleep better at home."

"Thank you--" Ethan began, but stopped as Damien shrugged uncomfortably.

"We'll be back tomorrow."

After they had left, Ethan helped Jared sip the tea, held him until he slept, then eased him back down and covered him with the quilts. He got a plate of beans and biscuits, poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down near Jared to eat.

He was just finishing when he saw that Jared was awake and looking at him uncertainly in the dim light. "Ethan?" he whispered. "Am I home?"

"Yes, little boy," Ethan replied reassuringly. "You're home." He made another cup of tea and brought it over to the bed.

"Chair?" Jared whispered.

Ethan knew immediately what he wanted. He set the cup of tea on the small table next to the fireplace, added another log to the fire and blew out the lamps. Wrapping Jared in a quilt he sat in the big chair with the young man on his lap, and held the cup to his lips, reminiscent of their first night together. When the cup was empty, Jared leaned his head against Ethan's shoulder and closed his eyes with a sigh.

"Home," he whispered, so softly that Ethan almost missed it.

The big man tucked the quilt more tightly around him and dropped a gentle kiss on the dark blond hair.

"Home," he echoed as he cradled the young man closer and closed his own eyes