Five horses thundered down the trail in the late afternoon sun. Dust hung in the air behind them, their riders interested only in the trail ahead. They rode with quiet intensity, spurred by the knowledge that they were closer – they had passed the remains of a campsite shortly past noon, several hours ago. The men kept a sharp eye on the trail ahead, willing their quarry to appear.

A little while later they were rewarded with the sight of something on the trail ahead. They rode closer, and the huddled form became clearer. “It’s a horse,” Chris called back to the others.

“Looks dead,” Buck opined. “It ain’t moving.”

They pulled up next to the animal and saw that Buck was right. Chris and Nathan dismounted to take a closer look at the dead chestnut, and Buck voiced the thought for all of them. “It’s JD’s.” A quick check of the saddle had Chris nodding.

“Rifle’s missing,” Nathan added, indicating the empty scabbard.

Chris found the two ragged holes in the gelding’s off side, rimmed with caked blood. “Shot. Must’ve taken a while to bleed to death, from holes that size.”

“Chris!” Josiah called from further uptrail. Chris mounted and rode up to where the preacher waited. “Blood trail.” Josiah nodded at the splatters of crimson visible on the ground. “Horse that size might be able to go maybe a couple of hours, losing blood like that.”

“Let’s go,” Chris replied grimly with a savage kick to his horse. The warm golden glow of the slowly sinking sun warmed their backs as the five men galloped headlong down the trail.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The sky was just setting in a riot of reds and oranges, casting shadows across the valley from the cliffs to their left. In the growing darkness, a faint glow like a will o’ the wisp caught Ezra’s eye. “Campfire!” His drawl rose above the pounding hooves. “Ahead on the right.”

Chris spotted the yellowish glow and slowed his mount. The campfire was nestled a number of yards off the trail, silhouetting the scrubby trees around it. The men rode closer at a walk, eyes open, ears alert, gun grips uncovered. They dismounted quietly at the trail’s edge, tethering horses to the underbrush.

“Nathan. Josiah. Circle around the other side. Make sure there aren’t any surprises,” Chris murmured. Josiah and Nathan nodded, slipping off into the gathering darkness silent as shadows. Chris, Buck and Ezra spread out by unspoken agreement, presenting a larger front as they cautiously closed on the camp, guns drawn.

Chris’ eyes glinted like chips of ice, reflecting the firelight as he eased to the edge of the small clearing. He analyzed the scene with a glance – two horses hobbled across from him at the other edge of the copse; one figure seated on the near side of the fire, back to him; the second lying prone, covered with a blanket, face obscured by the other’s body. He looked sideways and spotted Buck, reading the alert readiness in his tense expression. Chris nodded and rose from cover, cocking his revolver in the silent night air.

The figure seated at the fire started visibly at the metallic sound, spinning even as Chris ordered, “Don’t move.” The campfire cast a flickering light over the figure’s startled, frightened face. It took Chris’ mind a moment to register the feminine features. His aim didn’t waver as he saw her eyes widen at the sight of Buck and Ezra emerging from the shadows behind him, and she looked up at him, never moving, the fear in her eyes growing with realization.

It was easy to tell she posed no threat. The sight of the men and guns obviously terrified her, and Chris carefully uncocked and holstered his revolver. She watched his every move with wary eyes. “We’re not going to hurt you, ma’am,” he said softly, but she didn’t respond. When Chris moved to take a step towards, her, though, she spun and got her feet under her quick enough to make Ezra and Buck flinch with surprise, and she was grabbing for a rifle laid on the ground near her even as Chris was reaching for his gun.

She aimed the rifle at them with hands that trembled a little, but the woman and her weapon were forgotten as the three men saw the figure on the ground clearly for the first time, his face bathed in the warm glow of the campfire. A shock of black hair was pushed back from a face that was too pale and still for comfort, and the dark smear along one temple glistened ever so faintly in the firelight. Buck breathed, “JD?” in shock, holstering his pistol and starting to the kid’s side.

Ezra stood his ground, eyes flicking from JD to the woman and back, though his aim never strayed from the woman and the rifle. Chris spared an assessing glance at the woman and her trembling weapon before securing his own revolver and crouching on one knee at JD’s side next to Buck. The rise and fall of JD’s chest did little to relieve the knot in his stomach. He looked at the weeping wound on his temple, and the scratches and bruises on his face, then slowly, almost reluctantly, peeled the blanket back. A crude bandage had been wrapped around his right shoulder, blood seeping through it like a red flower. Buck blew a deep breath out through his mustache, hanging his head and closing his eyes painfully.

“How is he?” Ezra asked from his place in the standoff.

“Looks like he’s hurt bad,” Chris replied tersely.

The young woman looked from Chris to Ezra and back again, hoping they wouldn’t realize the rifle in her hands was only a show of false bravado. She wasn’t comfortable with the gun, but prayed they wouldn’t know that. They seemed to have forgotten about her as they crouched by the fire, but she flinched when Chris’ voice split the darkness with a shout. “Nathan!”

Two more men appeared from the undergrowth behind her and she spun, nearly dropping the rifle in the process. A dark-skinned man cast a brief but encompassing look over her that seemed to be both thorough and non-threatening at the same time before glancing at Ezra, then Chris. The sight of JD’s wan face and bloody bandage had him kneeling in an instant. The campfire cast its light on his dark features, set in a concerned scowl as he examined JD’s wounds.

The woman seemed to finally find her voice. “Do… do you know him?” She sounded young, Ezra thought. Maybe in her early twenties, if that. The rifle seemed to be almost forgotten by her as she watched the group of men by the fire. Ezra wasn’t sure if it was because she sensed they weren’t going to harm her, or if she was really as uncomfortable with it as she looked. She’d be better off with a shotgun than a rifle – especially with the way she was trembling. Shaky or not, the rifle was still in her hands, and he kept her covered.

Four pairs of eyes looked up at her from the knot by the fire at the question, and their expressions gave her her answer. She uncocked and lowered the rifle slowly, reluctantly, then felt foolish. Any one of them could have overpowered or shot her without half trying, rifle or no. At least the one in the colorful coat – in the firelight she thought it was red – was tucking his own gun away, though he still watched her alertly from under the brim of his hat.

“How bad is it?” Chris asked. She flinched automatically at the voice, then cursed under her breath. To her chagrin, the man in the red coat seemed mildly amused. Avoiding his eyes, she turned to the crouched figures, about to answer, but Nathan beat her to it.

“He’s been hit, twice. One doesn’t look too bad, not much more’n a scratch, and the other…” He gestured at the bloody, bandaged shoulder. “Doesn’t look like there’s a bullet in it, and at least it’s not bleeding any more. He’s pretty banged up, too, like he took a tumble, and it looks like that did more to him than the gunshot.” He indicated the wound on JD’s temple as he spoke. “And he’s lost a lot of blood.” Nathan thought for a moment, then said cautiously, “If we treat that shoulder, he should heal up okay, given enough time.”

“You forgot his leg,” she ventured, and was suddenly the target of the men’s interest again. Swallowing, she looked at the one who’d been assessing the wounds. His face looked the kindest, seemed the safest, somehow. “It was twisted under him pretty awkward, but I don’t think it’s broken. It’s got a splint on it, just in case.” Nathan lifted aside the blanket to reveal a crude support strapped to JD’s left leg. He ran careful hands down the length of the extremity, then looked up at her again.

“I think you’re right,” he said, and she found herself smiling a little at the warmth in his voice, not caring if it was because of her or because the leg wasn’t broken. “Right nice job of splinting, Miss…” He trailed off expectantly.

“Alice. Alice Ma… Waters.” Ezra’s brows lifted archly at the stammer, but Nathan pretended not to notice.

“Can y’all tell us what happened to him, Miss Alice?” Nathan asked, his voice soothing. It was the tone he used to calm a hurting patient or to gentle a nervous horse, and Chris could tell it was working on her, too. She found herself kneeling at JD’s side, looking down at him, remembering.

“We were riding along the trail up there and we spotted a puddle of blood in the middle of the trail. We figured it came from a ledge that was up the cliff a bit, thought may be a cougar or something had fallen and been killed and…” She broke off, looking up almost guiltily at the men around her. “Well, anyway, we climbed up and found him.” She nodded at JD’s form. “We thought he was dead at first, but he wasn’t, just banged up and bleeding pretty bad. We figured he must’ve fallen down the cliff, to get that beat up. So we got him down. It took some doing,” she added sounding defiant, “but we couldn’t just leave him.”

She looked as though she were daring them to contradict her, but Buck said simply, “No, ma’am. And we’re grateful you didn’t.” Alice relaxed at the sincerity in his voice.

“So you set up camp here to patch him up?” Chris asked. He was skeptical, and didn’t bother to hide it. If something sounded too good to be true…

“Well, we sure couldn’t take him with us,” she answered. “Now could we?”

The crisp reply took Chris aback momentarily, and Ezra sucked at a gold-crowned bicuspid in amusement at Chris’ discomfiture. “You must excuse Mister Larabee, ma’am,” he drawled easily, “but he tends to be suspicious of Good Samaritans with such apparently altruistic intentions. Particularly ones seemingly as innocuous as yourself.” Her eyes narrowed slightly in Ezra’s direction as she translated his words, found nothing to take offense at, and turned again to Chris.

“You can believe what you’d like, but the fact remains that we did set up camp here to fish that slug out of his shoulder and patch him up.” The timid, nervous woman was gone and her eyes flashed angrily. “You may be able to just walk away and leave a man to die by the side of the road, Mister Larabee, but I’m not.”

Chris regarded her in silence for a moment before saying “I’m sorry” with a deferential tip of his head. Alice nodded, her anger subsiding, leaving her suddenly nervous. She dropped her gaze to JD’s face, unwilling to look at the men surrounding her.

Nathan shared a quick look with Josiah, then used that gentling voice again. “You fished the bullet out?” If he’d sounded disbelieving, she probably would have lit into him, but he didn’t – just conversational. Or at least as conversational as the situation allowed. She nodded.

“A .45.” Buck was surprised at the certainty in her voice. Considering how poorly she handled the rifle, he wondered how much she could possibly know about ammunition. He was about to ask if she was sure when the harsh clatter of a rifle being cocked broke through the darkness.

“Get your hands up,” a voice called from the undergrowth. “All of you.”

Chris had half a heartbeat to realize he’d been too intent on JD and Alice to pay attention to his surroundings, and that it was mistakes like that that led a man to an early grave, before Alice was standing up and yelling, “Meg! Meg, it’s all right – they’re friends of his!”

A figure emerged into the reach of the firelight, rifle at the ready, and Chris had the feeling she knew how to use it. She showed none of the uncertainty that Alice had displayed, rather a watchful alertness that made him sure that not only could she use the rifle, she would if necessary. Meg eyed them distrustfully as Alice rushed up to her, speaking in quiet, urgent tones.

“It’s okay, Meg. They know him.”

“How can you be sure?” Meg countered.

“They’re worried about him – you can tell.” Alice smiled slightly. “Besides, if they were going to hurt me, they’d’ve had plenty of chances already.”

Meg’s knuckles whitened on the barrel of the rifle, but conceded the point and uncocked the weapon. Alice smiled at her with grateful understanding before turning back to face their guests. “Mister Larabee, my cousin, Meg McArthur.”

“Ma’am,” Chris said with a cautious nod.

“Mister Larabee,” she returned with a similar gesture. Josiah had the sudden impression of a pair of wolves sizing each other up with mutual distrust. Meg broke eye contact first, looking instead at JD on the ground. “How’s he doing?”

“The bleeding’s stopped,” Alice replied. “Or at least it had, last time I looked.” Meg nodded, looking relieved. “Did you have any luck?”

“Some, let me go get them. I dropped them when I heard a yell…” She glared at Chris, but he only glanced at her without apology then looked to JD again. “I’ll be right back.” Her voice held more threat than promise as she swept her eyes over the strangers before retreating into the underbrush. Chris and Buck exchanged a covert glance, eyebrows raised.

“I apologize for my cousin,” Alice said. “She gets a little… protective at times.” She looked to Nathan. “Are you a doctor, Mister…?”

“Jackson. No, ma’am, I’ve just had some practice patching folks up.”

Alice murmured something to herself that sounded like, “I know what you mean.” Aloud she asked, “And do you think he’ll be all right?”

Meg returned in time to hear Nathan say, “As long as it don’t start bleeding again – he looks like he’s lost enough blood already.” Meg kept hold of her rifle in one hand, laying a pair of jackrabbits on the ground. Each sported a single gunshot wound, and Buck raised an eyebrow in appreciation. Meg saw him and smiled smugly to herself.

“Those look good.” Alice looked at the gathering around the fire. “Should be able to make them go around.” Josiah’s stomach growled involuntarily at the thought.

“How do you want them?” Meg asked, pulling a knife from her belt.

“Stew, I think,” Alice replied promptly. Buck looked at the scene, feeling surreal. JD was sprawled out beside him, recovering from being shot, and they were discussing what was for dinner. Somehow his stomach’s rumbling left him feeling guilty and he was distracted enough by it that he only vaguely heard Alice’s comment about the other men on the trail.

“What men?” Chris demanded sharply, leaning tensely towards her. Alice recoiled from him, eyes widening in fear at the abrupt movement. Interesting reaction, Ezra thought as he watched her quickly regain her composure. A glance at Meg told him she’d seen it, too, her eyes narrowing and her fingers wrapping tighter around the rifle as Alice replied.

“We passed them a couple of hours ago, maybe three.” She indicated the darkness to the east with a toss of her head. “We figured they were the ones who shot your friend here.”

“The timing was about right,” Meg chipped in, “and we haven’t seen anyone else for the past three days. Unless y’all passed someone on your way in?”

Chris shook his head, scowling. “He took them on,” he muttered, looking at JD with a mixture of anger and exasperation.

“Of all the stupid…” Buck remembered the company just in time and bit back the rest. He looked at Alice and Meg, brown eyes frosty, untouched by the warmth of the fire. “How many of them were there?”

“We skirted around them,” Alice responded. “We didn’t want to run into them…”

“Wise choice,” Josiah interjected in a low rumble. Meg nodded.

“We’re not that foolish,” Alice agreed. “We waited off trail and let them pass us, and counted nine riders altogether.”

Chris was already climbing to his feet. “Two or three hours ago?” he asked. Alice nodded and Chris looked to the moonlit sky. “Enough light to ride by, but let’s hope they made camp somewhere.” Buck, Josiah and Nathan rose.

“Someone ought to stay here with him,” Josiah said. He nodded at JD, but his eyes flicked to Meg and Alice meaningfully. Chris nodded, glancing at his companions.

“I’ll stay,” Nathan volunteered. “I reckon I should, anyway, in case JD needs anything.” Chris hesitated – Nathan was the likely choice, but if something happened on the trail, he wanted him with them. They weren’t likely to get Vin back without a fight. Reluctantly he nodded, and the five returned to their horses. Nathan prepared to lead his back to the camp as the other four mounted up in the moonlight.

“We’ll be back,” Buck said by way of farewell and they wheeled and spurred  their mounts to the east. Nathan watched the riders disappear around a bend in the trail before turning for the camp as the echo of hooves faded into silence.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *