Without a word, he turned on his heels and headed for the church. He stopped briefly at the bottom of the stairs. He had never been inside before. Oh, the others went to church each and every Sunday. Chris had claimed that it was expected of them. But not Vin. He had argued that someone needed to remain on duty and Chris had not pressed him. The last time Vin had been in church was the day they had buried.....stolen his mother. He had been five years old and he had vowed that he would never step a foot inside one of these cold heartless places again. And he never had. Until today.

The tracker climbed the rough wooden steps, stopped in the doorway and waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Chris was seated in the second pew, his head bowed, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. But Vin knew he wasn’t praying. He could tell. And so the young man marched up and sat down beside his friend.

For several minutes they sat in silence.

"I knew he was gonna shoot you. Didn’t see the gun. I just knew."

Vin glanced at his friend, but said nothing.

"It was my dream, Vin," Chris whispered. His voice was laced with pain and confusion. "All of it. You walking out of Potter’s. That dog barking. J.D. calling you. It all came back to me in a rush and I knew. I knew he was going to kill you."

"I believe you," Vin stated evenly.

Again there was silence.

"Indians believe in dream messages," the tracker offered softly. "They believe that sometimes a man’s ancestors will send a warning in a dream. Usually in more than one dream. I ain’t never had it happen to me, but I knew an Indian who said that he had had a dream message. Reckoned he kept dreamin’ that this tree was gonna fall on him. Claimed that a couple of days after the dreams, he was ridin’ on his own and he had this strange feelin’ Stopped and this tree feel right in front of him. Only just missed him. He said, just like you did, that he recognized things from his dream. That was why he stopped."

Chris sighed deeply, but his head remained bowed.

"You see, Chris, Indians have a strong connection with their dead. They believe that their ancestors will try and protect them. Save them from some fate. And they reckon that the ancestor will let the brave know who they are in some way by being in the dream itself."

Chris Larabee pressed his eyes closed. Sarah. In his dream, Vin had said something about looking after Sarah and that she was waiting for him. Dream messages? It sounded like crap and yet.....yet it had happened. Larabee sighed. If there was a hint of truth in anything Vin had just said, then Chris knew that it was Sarah that sent the dream. Not to save Vin, of course, but to save him. Chris swallowed hard. He knew that if anything happened to Vin, then his soul would return to the black hole he had found himself in after his wife and son’s deaths. And if that happened, no one would be able to retrieve it. He would be damned for the rest of his life.

Chris drew in another deep breath and then glanced across at Vin.

"Do you believe any of that?"

"Not until today," Vin murmured. "You was unsighted, Chris. There was no way you coulda seen his gun. But you knew he had it. And if you say you saw it in a dream then.....I believe you." Abruptly, Vin climbed to his feet and moved to the end of the pew. "I owe you my life...again."

Chris studied his friend carefully. A multitude of emotions were swirling around his mind. "Vin, I just want you to know that........" but the words wouldn’t come. He was too afraid to say them. Too afraid of admitting to himself that he dared to care about someone else.

A relaxed smile appeared on his best friend’s face. Without a word, Vin Tanner placed his hand on the older man’s shoulder. It was a rare gesture on Vin’s part, but one that came easily.

"I know. Reckon I feel the same way.........but if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it. Don’t want people thinking I’m one of them queer fellas who prefers men."

Chris found his chest relax as he grinned up at his young friend’s serious face. Larabee watched Vin start up the aisle toward the door and fell into step beside him.

"Course I have heard it said that there are a lot of older men who do start to go a little queer, so if you’re gettin’ any ideas....."

"Older men!" Larabee exploded, his fist rocketing at the insolent bastard. But Vin had anticipated the reaction and bolted for the door. The moment he stepped out on the small porch, however, his stride returned to his usual ambling pace.

"Come on grandpa, Reckon I owe you a drink."

"Reckon you do," Chris agreed.

Together they headed for the saloon. Larabee could feel the tension between his shoulders disappearing.

Vin spotted Mary walking along the porch of Potter’s store.

"Mornin’ Mrs. Travis!" the young man called cheerfully. Chris’ eyes narrowed. "I was just sayin’ to Chris, that it’s about time that....." Chris Larabee thrust his elbow into his companion’s stomach so hard that Vin doubled over, whatever he was about to say lost in the sudden rushing breath that was forced out of him.

Mary’s eyes widened in shock. Chris grinned at her and tipped his hat.

"Excuse us, Ma’am." With that, the older man grabbed Vin’s shoulders, dragged him into as much of a standing position as the tracker’s injured stomach would allow and bodily shoved him toward the saloon.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Vin demanded.

"I shouda let that bastard shoot you, Tanner!"

Chris didn’t know where his dreams had come from. He’d like to think that Sarah had had something to do with them, but it didn’t matter who or what or why. He just felt thankful. For a lot of things actually. He was thankful for friends like Buck, who had cared enough to confront him when he was acting like an asshole. He was thankful that God had blessed him with an interfering, smart mouth, sonofabitch ‘brother’ like Vin Tanner. And he was thankful that someone as special as Mary was in his life. He wasn’t yet ready to let go of Sarah, but........

"So you still gonna take Mary out to ya cabin tonight?"

"To hell with the bounty hunter. I’m gonna shoot you myself!"