Chris stared down at the wooden cross in front of him. Not much to show for a life. Certainly not enough for a free spirit like... Larabee sighed.

The wind picked up around him as winter announced itself without mercy. One of the shutters on the small cabin behind him began to bang against the wall. A pounding emptiness that echoed the meaninglessness of the figure’s own existence.

The horses shifted restlessly, sensing the approach of a frosty evening. Chris shivered, though made no attempt to pull the poncho around himself. Such an action required unconscious thought and Larabee wasn’t even capable of that. The anger, disbelief and refusal to accept what the others proclaimed had all been replaced by an emotion this man knew only too well. The most debilitating state of mind and heart known to humanity had risen up and consumed him.

Larabee lifted his eyes to the plain off to the right. He longed to see the approach of... but he never would again. The gunfighter re-focused his attention on the impassive stake that represented everything that had meant anything to him.

“Chris.” Larabee didn’t move. Buck wasn’t sure if his friend had heard him. The mustached man didn’t want to interrupt, but he knew he needed to get Chris indoors before the gunfighter caught pneumonia. Buck approached his companion and stopped beside him. For a long time he said nothing, staring himself, at the plain wooden cross inscribed with a name.

The wind lashed the pair as they stood motionless, one drowning in his own numbness, the other searching for some way to help his friend to deal with his grief.

“It’s getting dark. Let’s go inside,” Buck coaxed, turning. Larabee didn’t move - tragically frozen in the shadow of the cross. “Chris,” Buck encouraged, taking his friend’s arm. For the first time since Buck had arrived some twenty minutes earlier, Larabee acknowledged his presence with a nod. Together the two men walked slowly toward the cabin.

“You go on up. I’ve got to get some supplies from my saddle bags.” Larabee made no indication that he had heard. Buck watched the once proud gunfighter climb the stairs his face dropped, his arms hanging uselessly at his sides. Buck Wilmington shut his eyes and tried to get control of his emotions. He just couldn’t handle seeing Chris like this. Happiness had literally slipped through Larabee’s fingers.

“Why don’t you get a fire started while I unpack this stuff,” Buck suggested, entering the cabin. Larabee didn’t move. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him and eyes directed at the floor with intense concentration. “Chris?” Larabee raised his face. “Come on, pard. You get a fire started. It’s gonna be cold tonight.”

Rising to his feet, Chris headed for the door. “I’ll get some firewood.” Words! Finally, Buck had been able to get a response out of Chris.

Fuelled by renewed hope, Buck unpacked the hession bag and spread the contents on the plain wooden table. Some beef from Mrs. Potter. Some bread from the Dicksons. An apple pie from Mary. Fruit from the Claytons. Everyone had offered something. They all felt Larabee’s loss... all of the Seven’s loss. Grabbing some plates, Buck began to slice the beef and share it out. Tonight he was determined to see Larabee eat something. Since the tragedy, Chris hadn’t eaten anything except the broth Nathan had managed to force into his mouth in the clinic, but that was almost two weeks ago. Over the fortnight, Chris had lost a considerable amount of weight. The fever had knocked him around originally, but the gunfighter had lost interest in food since - lost interest in everything. His face was pale and gaunt. His actions were listless, almost tragic. Once Nathan had released him from the clinic, Chris had come out here to the cabin. He hadn’t been seen in Four Corners since.

As Wilmington passed the window, his attention was drawn outside. Chris had returned to the grave. Once again the gunfighter stood motionless - just staring at it. Buck could feel the tears welling in his eyes. “Come on, Chris. Don’t do this,” the scoundrel muttered to himself. “So, how’s that firewood coming, pard?” he called.

Larabee remained still and silent for several more seconds and then continued on his path to the wood pile. Some moments later, he re-entered the cabin and dumped the logs next to the hearth. Without a word, the gunfighter began to stack the fire. Half way through, his hands stilled and his head dropped. Across the room, Buck sensed the cessation of movement. The scoundrel glanced over his shoulder. Larabee drew in a juddering breath and began to shake his head.

Buck put down the knife and walked up behind his companion. It was time for him to say something. This couldn‘t continue. “Chris, it’s been three weeks. You’ve got to let go.”

“That’s exactly what I did, Buck. I let him go.” Chris stared down at his own hands. His mind was accosted with an image of Vin’s face. The shock, the realization, and then the forgiveness and the message of ‘Look after yourself, Cowboy’ before he was wrenched from his best friend’s grasp.

“Chris, don’t. You didn’t let him go. No man could have held on any longer!”

“Maybe. Maybe if it had been Josiah... “

“Chris, you can’t do this to yourself! Vin wouldn’t want this for you. Hell, he’s probably watching you right now cursing you. I can just imagine what he’d be saying. Something like...”

“DON‘T!” Chris yelled, leaping to his feet.

Buck swallowed, his face shadowing with despair. “I don’t know what to do for you, Chris,” the scoundrel whispered, his voice laced with the deep anguish he felt. “I just...” Buck looked away. Larabee’s anger left him quickly. The gunfighter walked past his friend, brushing Buck’s arm as he went by.

Wilmington collected himself and set about changing the subject. “Mary sent you an apple pie. Thought I might help you eat it.”

“You staying tonight?” Chris asked, as he put the kettle on the small stove.

“If you don’t mind. Be a cold ride back. Listen, J.D. and I were thinking of heading over to Redfork tomorrow to check out the new saloon. How about you join us? Three good lookin’ fellas like us are likely to attract the attention of all the fine ladies down there. What do you say?” Buck waited. Would Chris consider the proposal?

“Thanks, Buck, but I’ve got things I need to do here.” Buck suppressed the urge to ask what.

“How about I stay on and help you with it and then we can go into Redfork the next day?” Chris glanced at his friend and Buck could see it was time to stop pushing. “Alright, pard.” Chris wasn’t ready yet, but Buck suspected that Larabee would never be ready.

The two men retired to the table to eat their meal. The flickering of the fire that had always seemed so warm and comforting did nothing but cast shadows over Larabee’s heart.

Chris sat in silence as Buck continued to make conversation.

“So, we got word from Ezra. Apparently he’s winning. Not that that surprises me. Reckons he’ll be back by the end of the week. Of course, if he’s still milking the good folks of Brenton, I’d say he just might stay longer. We’ll probably end up having to go down there and save his hide from a mob of disgruntled losers.“ Without a pause, Buck went on. “Josiah’s gone up to spend a few days with Kojay. Seems they must be having some sort of spiritual festival and the preacher wants to study their customs. A lot of grown men sitting around in a smoky tent naked. Can’t exactly say that it interests me. On the other hand, I’ve heard that there are some oh so nice saloon girls working in the new saloon in Redfork. Thought I’d take J.D. down there and show him the ropes. Might even cause some trouble like we used to. Nathan should be back the day after tomorrow.“ Buck noted that Larabee hadn’t touched his plate of food.

“Chris, you gotta eat.”

“Not hungry, Buck.”

“Chris you haven’t eaten anything in days.”

“More coffee?” Larabee asked, standing and moving off to the stove.

“Damn it, Chris. Don’t brush me aside.”

“I’m not... I am... I’m sorry.”

Buck put his knife and fork down. It was like Chris had given up on life. This was so much worse than the last time Larabee had lost those he cared about. After Sarah and Adam‘s death, Chris had turned into an aggressive sonofabitch who sought refuge in bottle after bottle of whisky. At least it had allowed Buck to be angry with him. The anger had actually assisted Buck with his own grief. It had given him something to focus on. This time, however, Larabee hadn’t even looked at a whiskey bottle. Chris had been angry at first but then he had just given up - stopped caring. The gunfighter was simply existing... no longer living. Of course, if he didn’t start eating, the former would cease also. Perhaps unconsciously, that was what Chris wanted.

Larabee stared out into the darkness beyond the window. The moon lit the small white cross. “I had him, Buck.” Chris glanced down at his open hands for what was the millionth time in the three weeks since Vin had been stolen from him. “I had him but... the water was just too strong.” The tough man’s voice broke with emotion. He would never forget the look on Vin’s face nor the event that had lead to the loss of the best man he had ever known...

“Didn’t think it would ever stop raining,” J.D. stated as he and his friends continued back from Nettie Wells’ ranch. In the last week, the heavens had dropped a quarter of the year’s rain. Many of the outlying farms had been cut off from Four Corners. Thankfully, the rain had stopped two days earlier and the rivers had peaked the night before. Thus, the Seven had set off to ensure their neighbours were okay. They had checked on Nettie first and finding the old lady and her niece safe, the men set off for the next ranch.

“Gonna be a lot of animals stranded,” Vin stated quietly.

“We’ll do what we can,” Josiah assured his friend.

“I hope that wagon train we heard about is okay,” J.D. commented. Chris had received a wire explaining that a wagonload of Quakers were moving through. The judge thought it was important that the Seven were aware of the group, not because they had a reputation for causing trouble, but because of the bigotedness of some of the locals.

“Long as they don’t attempt to cross any rivers for a few days, they should be fine,” Nathan claimed. The words were barely out of the healer’s mouth when Vin pointed and then took off. The other men strained their eyes. Ahead, they could see the river and a lone wagon attempting to cross it.

“Come on!” Larabee shouted. As the men approached, they saw the wagon tip. The horses struggled to keep their footing but were weighed down by both the tremendous current and the buckboard that was now on its side. A huge escarpment of rocks rose up directly in the path of the wagon. The flimsy structure crashed into the rocks and stopped moving. The screams of a man, woman and several children echoed over the roaring of the rushing white water.

Vin leapt from his horse and began to strip off his buckskin coat, boots and hat. “I need two ropes!” he yelled as the other boys arrived.

“Hang on!!” Josiah bellowed to the stranded family. “We’re coming for you.” The family began yelling and waving frantically. “Try to stay calm. We’re coming!”

Ezra rushed over to Vin and handed him two coiled ropes. “What do you need me to do?”

“Tie it to that tree!” Vin snapped, thrusting the end of one back at the gambler and pointing to a tree further up stream. The tracker turned and handed the other end of the cord to Chris. Larabee understood and threaded the rope around his best friend and began to tie it securely. Vin then tied the extra coil around himself. “Feed the rope out as I go across. Don’t let it all out at once, or I’ll get caught in it.”

Larabee nodded. “Vin.” Be careful.

Tanner nodded and then rushed up the bank and passed the tree to which Ezra had secured the rope.

“Mr Tanner, it’s too strong. You’ll never get across there.”

“Current will bring me down to them.” He was now a long way upstream from the wagon. “You boys get ready to haul each of them back.”

“We’ve got another rope. I’ll go out there with you,” Buck suggested.

“Can’t. The ropes could get tangled.” With that, Vin hurled himself into the surging white cauldron. The other men watched with baited breath as the tracker resurfaced and was tossed downstream, but as Vin had stated, he was sent directly toward the stranded wagon. Moments later, Vin reached the listing dray and climbed up onto it. For a second he paused to catch his breath. Tanner was strong swimmer, but the river was monstrous, the swirling water tugging and drawing everything down.

“How many of you are there?” Vin shouted.

“Five. Me, my wife and our three little ones.”

Vin cursed. The wagon, jolted. The woman and her children screamed. Tanner could see that it wasn’t going to hold for long. The force of the current was literally tearing it apart.

“Each of us are gonna have to take a kid back with us. You go first.”

“But my wife.”

“Don’t argue!” Quickly, Vin untied the rope from around himself and began to fasten it around the man. He then took the second coil of rope and firmly fixed it to the wagon before tying it around the man also. Vin grabbed the largest child, a boy about ten and thrust him into his father’s arms. “Now you hang on real tight to your pa, understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Vin patted the boy on the head. “You’ll be fine son.” Tanner glanced at the man. “The boys will pull you back. Try to keep your back upstream, there’s a lot of stuff in the water and if it hits ya, it’ll be better from the back. Hold onto your boy real tight.”

“Thank you,” the man stated sincerely. He reached for Vin’s hand. Tanner took it, nodded and then assisted the man over the side. For a second he and his son disappeared and then they resurfaced. On the bank, six men began to haul the rope in. Carefully, Vin fed out his end of the rope.

To his right, the tracker heard the strangled gasps of the horses. They were drowning. Unable to swim because they were secured to the wagon, the animals were tiring and going under.

“Ma’am, feed this out.” With that, Vin handed the rope to the woman and then leaned forward and reached for the bolt that held the horses in place. With a heave, he pulled it free. The two ponies surged up and forward. Tied together they were whisked away but immediately began to fight their way to the bank. By the time Vin turned back, the boys had the man and his son safely on the bank. Quickly, Buck released the two pieces of rope and tied the ends together. He waved to Vin who began to haul the ropes back across.

“Alright, Ma’am, you’re next.” The woman was large and strong. Clearly she had seen hard work in her life. She was going to need every bit of that strength today. Hastily, Vin tied both pieces of rope around her. “Don’t panic if you go under a few times. The boys will get you to the side.” She nodded. In her arms, she held a three year old who was sobbing softly. “You’re gonna have to hold onto him real tight. The water is mighty fierce.”

“I understand.” Her eyes flicked to her seven year old daughter huddled against the canvass. “You wait with this man. He’ll bring you over.”

“Come on, Ma’am. We don’t have time to waste.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Vin nodded and then taking the woman’s arm, assisted her over the edge. Like her husband, she disappeared under the water for several seconds. When she surfaced, she surfaced alone and screaming. She had lost hold of her baby!

Vin spotted the darkened patch and without a moment’s hesitation, leaped into the swirling torrent.

“VIN!” six voices thundered as one. Chris let go of the rope and raced along the bank. Vin’s head hadn’t surfaced. Come on, Vin! The seconds that passed seemed an eternity. Finally, Vin broke the water and in his strong arms he had the child. Larabee’s mind zapped at the speed of light. How the hell was he going to get Vin to safety? His companion went under again. “VIN!”

Ahead, Chris spotted a tree that had come down in the deluge. The long trunk extended a third of the way across the raging river. Tanner resurfaced. “Vin, head for the tree!” Chris couldn’t be sure if his best friend could hear him, but Vin seemed to be trying to fight his way across. When Larabee reached the log, he began to claw his way along it. Vin’s arm snaked out and latched onto a flimsy branch.

“Hang on, Vin! I’m coming!” As Chris inched his way closer, the tree began to creak. The smaller end branches would not hold his weight. Larabee reached out. Vin had the child in one arm and was clinging to the branch with the other. The tracker was coughing violently, trying to expel the water that had entered his lungs.

“Take him!” Vin managed to get out. He was exhausted. His arms were going numb from the cold. The young man knew he couldn’t support the toddler much longer. Chris stretched out further, but the distance was insurmountable.

“I’ve got you, Chris. Lean out there!” Josiah thundered as he grabbed onto his leader’s belt. Josiah’s reach gave Chris the extra foot he needed. His fingers closed around the screaming child’s shoulder.

“I’ve got him!” Vin released the boy and Chris dragged the terrified toddler to safety. After handing him back to Josiah, Larabee reached out to his best friend. Chris could see that Vin’s strength was at its end. “Give me your hand.”

Vin released his right hand and leaned out to Chris. Larabee’s fist stapled around Vin’s proffered arm. Abruptly, the branch that Vin had been clinging to snapped. His body jerked away. Chris held onto him, gritting his teeth against the force of the water that was trying to suck Vin down and whisk him off downstream. “Vin!” Chris could feel his friend slipping. Tanner’s eyes captured Larabee’s. He looked shocked and then his tired face calmed. Chris.

“VIN!” The exhausted tracker’s fingers slid further. “VIN!” Chris strained. Tanner’s blue eyes sent a message of thanks to his best friend. Heart felt gratitude for everything they had shared in the past months... and finally a look of farewell. Look after yourself, Cowboy. Larabee willed Vin to pull himself in, but the enervated young man was ripped from his hand by a surge of water. “NOOOOO!” Vin went under. “VIN!” Chris dived into the roaring river, but Josiah had anticipated the move, his huge hand grabbing hold of Larabee’s shirt and dragging him back.

“Where is he?!” Larabee shouted.

“There!” Ezra cried. The gambler was running along the bank, level with his friend. Vin resurfaced but went under again almost immediately. Josiah and Chris began to make their way back along the log, the huge preacher still cradling the three year old close to his chest.

“There!” J.D. screamed, but once again the water claimed the tracker. The men continued to follow the river bank. “Where’d he go?!”

Ezra and J.D. searched the expanse in front of them with desperate eyes. The boiling white water continued to churn and race away, but there was no sign of their companion.

“Ezra? Ezra, where is he?” J.D. shrieked as helplessness murdered his control.

“He’s gone,” the gambler whispered, his voice so choked with emotion that it was barely recognizable. Chris Larabee passed the pair. His wild eyes searched not the water, but the bank. “Find him!” he shouted to the others. “He’s a strong swimmer. He would have made it to the bank!” Ezra glanced at his leader and felt his own heart break. Vin had been a strong swimmer alright. It was the only reason he had been able to get out to the wagon and stay afloat long enough to rescue the child. But Vin Tanner was only human. No one could have fought the current for as long as he had and survived.

An hour later, Nathan and Buck escorted the family of five back to Four Corners. All were safe and outside of being cold, were healthy. Chris, Ezra, Josiah and J.D. continued to search the river bank for signs of their missing friend.

Five hours later, Larabee collapsed. He had been drenched to the skin and chilled to the bone. Hypothermia claimed him without his consent and so his friends rushed him back to Four Corners praying that Nathan could prevent the Seven from becoming five. Thankfully, Chris survived, but he developed a raging fever that saw Nathan spend the entire night battling to save his life.

At first light, all but Nathan and Chris set off to continue the search. By noon, the men were resigned to the fact that Vin hadn’t made it to shore as they had hoped, but rather had been claimed by the river.

“In a couple of months, when the water level goes down, we’ll probably... “ Buck couldn’t say it, but they all understood. Once the water level went down, the men would probably find their companion’s body wedged under a log or rock.

Three days later, Chris returned to his senses and Buck was forced to explain to his oldest friend that they had lost Vin. Larabee flatly refused to believe it and insisted that the boys head out and continue to search. He couldn’t believe that they had given up!

Buck shook his head, the tears that he had been able to control until this point, now cascading down his cheeks. “He’s gone, pard. I’m sorry. I‘m so sorry.”

Buck watched Chris move out into the darkness. The scoundrel reached for the two plates on the table and began to clean up. There was no sense fighting Chris. He wasn’t ready to eat.

Some time later, Buck entered the small barn behind the cabin. Chris was brushing Peso down. The beautiful black horse shifted uncomfortably. It knew something was wrong. The animal swung its head to the door where it could see the open plain leading back to Four Corners. Like Chris, the horse was looking for Vin to appear out there as he often had in the past.

“I’ve cut the apple pie in half. Hope you don’t mind.” Chris shook his head. “You almost finished?”

“Just have to put their blankets on.” Buck assisted his friend to prepare the horses for the night and then the pair headed back to the cabin.

After Buck had eaten some pie, the two men turned in for the night, Chris taking his bed and Buck the small cot reserved for Larabee’s infrequent visitors. The only person who had ever really used the cot was Vin when he and Chris had spent a few days building the barn.

Larabee lay staring up at the ceiling for hours. When he finally drifted off, his slumber was restless as the incident... more correctly, Vin’s face, kept replaying over and over again in his strangled mind. Vin’s hand slipping through his fingers. Vin disappearing under the water. The tracker’s intense blue eyes... Look after yourself, Cowboy.

At dawn, Buck rolled over to discover Larabee’s bed empty. The scoundrel sighed deeply and padded across to the window. Chris was exactly where Wilmington expected him to be - crouched in front of the cross that bore Vin‘s name. Larabee’s attention wasn’t focused on the grave, however. He was staring out at the empty plain that led back to Four Corners. Buck shook his head. He knew that the gunfighter was clinging to the desperate hope that Vin Tanner would miraculously appear and wander up to cabin with his long relaxed strides and call of, “Howdy, Cowboy. Just happened to be passin‘.”

**********

“How’s Chris?” J.D. asked quietly as Buck strode into the saloon, grabbed a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar and dropped into a chair at the boys’ regular table. Wilmington tipped the bottle to his lips and began to guzzle it like mother’s milk. “Buck? You okay?”

“No, Kid, I’m not.”

“I’m sorry. I would have gone with you but...” J.D., like the rest of the boys, was unable to deal with Chris at the moment. Had their leader been drunk and angry, they could have coped, but Chris was grieving in a way that left the others at a loss. That was why Nathan had gone off to visit Raine for a week. Josiah had headed out to spend some time with the Indians and Ezra had accepted an invitation to a large poker match in Brenton. It wasn’t that they were walking out on their companions, it was just that they needed space to grieve themselves. Vin Tanner had been their friend too.

“It’s like we’re disbanding,” J.D. commented.

Buck shook his head and reached out for the younger man’s shoulder. “No, son. The boys just need some time. They’ll be back.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because we need each other.” It was a profound statement and one that would surprise most people who knew Buck. The scoundrel did not present as a deep person, but Buck was far more sensitive and understanding than people gave him credit for. It was something that women sensed in the huge fun-loving man. “When we first started riding together, we were just seven guys passing through the same town. We’re a lot more than that now. That’s why the boys are all hurting so bad. Their hurting for Vin and for Chris... and for us.”

“It ain’t never gonna be the same again, will it?”

“No, son, it won’t. But it will get better.”

“How’s Chris?”

Buck sighed. “He’s dying inside. He just can’t let go.”

“They were like brothers,” J.D. murmured.

“Yeah, they were.”

“I guess it will take a long time for him to accept that Vin’s gone.” Buck released J.D.’s shoulder and reached for the bottle of whiskey. The scoundrel wasn’t sure if Chris would ever get over it.

“Josiah, dropped in earlier today to collect some things. He said to tell you that the festival goes for another week and he’ll be back as soon as it’s over.”

Buck nodded. “Ezra should be home by the end of the week and Nathan’s due back tomorrow.”

“Buck, is there anything I can do to help Chris?”

Wilmington shook his head sadly. "There isn’t anything anyone can do. We just have to wait... and pray.”

The two men glanced up as Mary entered the saloon tentatively. The young woman made her way to their table, J.D. and Buck both standing as she approached.

“Mary.”

“How is he, Buck?”

The scoundrel indicated the door and led Mary outside. Pulling a chair for her on the porch, the mustached man sat down beside her. J.D. leaned against the post restlessly, fiddling with his hat.

“Buck?”

“He’s still all knotted up, Mary.”

The concerned woman nodded. “It’s just that it’s been three weeks. I was hoping that...”

“We just have to give him time.”

“He and Vin were very close.”

“Yes, Ma’am, they were. Chris did speak to me this time, so I guess he’s starting to move in the right direction.”

“Are you going back out there today?”

“No, probably tomorrow. Why?”

“Oh, I just wanted you to tell him that... that I... “

Buck nodded. “Don’t worry, Mary, I will.”