Buck's long legs were stretched across the boardwalk as he lounged on the bench outside the jail. He was patiently awaiting today's stagecoach. An old war buddy of his, George "Wiley" Wiles, was scheduled to be on the coach. Buck and George had served in the same infantry unit when both boys first went off to war…before Buck was transferred to Chris Larabee's regiment.

Buck had been pleasantly surprised earlier in week when he had received a letter from Wiley saying he was planning to move west. The letter explained that Wiles had worked a farm in Illinois for the last ten years, but he felt that he no longer had any reason to stay in Illinois. Wiles had no children, and his wife had left him a few months earlier. The farm had recently been sold, and George planned to take the profits and find some good land on the wild, western frontier.

Buck could hear the stagecoach coming before he could see it. Once it stopped, the doors opened and a man exited and squinted against the sun. Buck recognized his old friend immediately.

"Ain't you a sight for sore eyes, Wiley…..but how'd ya get so dern old?" Buck laughed. It had been over 10 years since the two men had seen each other.

"Buck, now you know as well as I do that you and I are the same age," George smiled back. Wiles was a large man, about Buck's height but heavier in build, with short, black hair sparingly speckled with gray.

The two men embraced, Buck picked up Wiley's suitcase, and escorted his friend towards the saloon.

Chris, Vin, JD, and Ezra looked up from their table as the two men entered. Chris stood, and offered his hand to Wiles. "Good to see you again, Wiley," Chris stated. Larabee and Wiles had not served together officially, but Chris had met him during the war through Buck. The three men had taken a weekend leave together a time or two, and Chris had liked George Wiles. Wiley and Buck could pull pranks and stir up trouble like no two boys that Larabee had ever met.

"Still the same lean, mean, whiskey-lovin' son-of-a-gun, I see," Wiles said as he accepted Chris' handshake.

Larabee raised blond eyebrows and said, "pull up a seat and have a drink."

"I'd like ya to meet three of my good friends and associates, JD Dunne, Vin Tanner and Ezra Standish," Buck introduced and the four men shared handshakes and polite greetings. It didn't take long into the conversation for George to realize that two of the men would have been on the other side in the war, if they had fought. JD was a northerner and clearly much too young to have served.

"So, what brings ya to town?" Vin asked.

"Lookin' for farm land," George answered, "you know of any?"

"Would you, by chance, be offering a finder's fee?" Ezra's eyes lit up as he asked the question.

"Sure," Wiley smiled. "You gentlemen likely know the area around here better than I do. It would need to be good soil, probably close to a river….lookin' for around 100 acres."

Ezra's mind was already working overtime, but it was Chris who said, "I've heard the best farmin' around here is between Dixon and Carson, down along the Rio Grande."

"Yes yes, I've heard that as well," Ezra replied and followed with, "I would be happy to travel there and ask around for you."

"I just might take you up on your offer, sir," Wiley smiled. The men continued to talk about the area, the war, tell stories, and catch up over the next couple of hours.

Josiah entered the saloon, and Chris rose saying, "I guess that means it's my turn to head out on patrol." Josiah took the chair vacated by Larabee and was introduced to Buck's old friend. The conversation was lively, and the men were enjoying the stories told by Buck and George….especially now that Chris was gone. They were free to talk openly about Larabee's escapades as a younger man.

"I remember one time when me, Wiley, and Chris were on leave for a few days," Buck began one particular story. "We were enjoyin' our evening in the local saloon, and Chris went and ticked off some big ol' farm boy. The boy was twice Chris' size, but Chris wasn't that drunk yet and he was a lot quicker. So, although Chris had the bruises to show for it, he ended up runnin' that fat boy right out of the saloon. Well, we all kept on and got good n' drunk. Chris finally decided it was time to go pass out somewhere, so he left…..and Wiley and I kept at it for another hour or so."

George was laughing; he clearly remembered this particular night.

"We were so drunk, and the boardin' house room was dark, so neither Wiley or myself realized Chris wasn't there when we got back to our room….not until the next morning, and then I just thought he had gotten up and left already. I wandered outside to see to the call of nature, and darnit if the door to the outhouse wasn't locked. I waited and waited, but no one came out, so finally I knocked and said, 'anybody in there.' It was then that I heard a familiar voice say, 'Buck, is that you?'" Buck had to pause for a moment because he was laughing hysterically.

The ladies man was finally able to contine. "George, here, had woken up by then and came out and saw me talkin' to the privy, so he wandered over. We determined, upon additional words with the facilities, that Chris was trapped in there. That ol' farm boy had waited, damn patiently if I do say so, for Chris to leave the saloon. Chris was drunk by then, and the big feller grabbed him as he walked back to our room, flung him over his shoulder, and carried him to the outhouse….where he strung him up, upside down, and nailed the door shut."

JD's mouth dropped open, Ezra cringed at the thought, Josiah laughed, and even Vin couldn't help but smile at the picture in his head.

"Buck and I were finally able to pry open the door," Wiley took over while Buck stopped laughing, "and Chris sure was a pitiful sight. He'd puked all over himself and the floor. I think we all had to burn our clothes afterwards, but we cut him down and carried him back to our room. I don't think Larabee left his bed for the rest of our leave…or picked a fight with another 250-pound farm boy for a long, long time." George laughed and finished with, "come to think of it, I think Chris still owes me for a new pair of shoes."

Before the men knew it, it was almost midnight. Vin excused himself first, followed by JD and Josiah. Finally, Buck and Ezra walked Wiley to his room at the hotel and went off in search of their own beds.


The next morning, Vin saw Chris come down from his room and head for the privy. "Be careful in there, Cowboy?" the Texan laughed and walked to the jail.

"Ah, hell," Chris said outloud. He had been afraid those assholes would tell that story after he left on patrol.

A few minutes later, as he walked back towards the jail, Larabee ran into Wiley coming from his own room. "You and Buck just couldn't keep your mouths shut, could ya?" Chris glared. "I gotta work with these people! I won't ever be able to see to the call of nature in peace again."

"Oh, come on Chris," Wiley smiled and put his muscular arm around Larabee's shoulders. "It makes folks like ya better when they know ya ain't perfect."

"Who said that I want folks to like me," Chris slung the heavy arm off and moved a couple of steps away.

"Hey Chris," Wiley smiled and Larabee gave him a questioning look, "come with us today. Buck, Ezra, and I are headin' down south to do some target shootin' and land searchin'. Buck talked to a feller that owns some property down that way that you boys helped out last year, and he said we could camp on his place. Ezra's gonna head to the local towns and get the low-down on places for sale," he paused. "If you beat me at shootin' you can hang me upside down from a tree or something," he laughed.

Chris knew it was unlikely he would beat George at long-range shooting. Wiley probably wasn't quite as good of a sharpshooter as Vin, but he had made some impressive shots during the war. "You're on," Chris said and walked to the jail to let Vin know about their plans.

"Vin," Chris greeted the long-haired man as he entered the jail.

"Cowboy," Vin was sitting at the desk, still smiling about the outhouse incident.

"Alright," Chris put his arms out and stood there, "get it out of your system."

"What?" Tanner laughed.

"Ya know damn well what…actually Vin, you could do something useful for me. Wanna help me teach Wiley a lesson?" Chris asked.

"I'm listening," Vin answered.

"He and Buck are goin' target-shootin' today. He said if I out-shot him, I could string him up from a tree. I'm bettin' he would probably agree to the same terms if you or I beat him. I'm not sure I can do it Vin, but I know damn well that you could."

"Sorry Chris," Vin looked down and away from Larabee's gaze. "Reckon I'm just gonna stick around here today…if ya don't mind."

Chris sat down on the edge of the desk. "What? You don't like Wiley?"

"I don't know, Chris," Vin's blue eyes rose again and looked at his friend. "Seems like a nice-enough feller; just got somethin' stirrin' in the back of my head that I can't quite figure out. Just be careful ok?"

"I'm always careful," Chris smiled, but he never discounted Tanner's judgment in these sorts of matters.

"Just you and Buck goin'?" Vin asked.

"Ezra too. He wants to get himself a big finder's fee on George's property; he'll probably go down to Dixon and gamble for two days."

"Watch your backs," Vin yelled behind him as Chris headed towards the livery to ready his horse,"and don't get drunk and shoot each other."

Buck, Ezra, and George were already there.

"So, you decided to come along huh?" Buck smiled. He was happy that his old friend had agreed to accompany them.

"I did," Chris finished loading up his saddle bags, "but I promise to shoot the first one of ya who mentions an outhouse or anything of the like."

"Why, Mr. Larabee," Ezra smiled, "I have no idea what you are referring to."

Buck and George laughed, Chris rolled his eyes and said, "shut up and ride."


"Tom's place should be just up over that rise," Buck instructed and squinted against the dying light.

"I do hate to keep pointing this out, Mr. Wilmington, but you said that at the last four hills that we have approached," Ezra sighed. His butt was tired of being in the saddle, and Buck had been teasing them about being "almost there" for the last two hours.

"There's the red post," Chris pointed out.

"See, what did I tell ya?" Buck said. "I knew exactly where I was goin'."

"Indeed, Mr. Wilmington….my sincerest apologies," Ezra did not try to hide his sarcasm.

The property was beautiful. It bordered the Rio Grande and included a wide, flat bottom along the river. There was another valley perpendicular to the river bed with forested hills on either side. That is where they would set up their targets tomorrow for shooting, and if a deer or elk or something for supper happened to wander past, then that would be even better.

The saddle-sore men made a quick meal of beans and biscuits and bedded down for the night.

The next morning, Buck, Chris, and George made their way across the river and set up for a day of shooting. When Ezra arose, a couple of hours later, he saddled up and rode south towards the town of Dixon.

Buck, Chris, and Wiley reminisced about the old days, while Wiley continually out-shot the two peacekeepers on the targets. Chris was impressed. It had been 10 years since the war, but George had clearly kept practicing his marksmanship throughout his farming years.

"I think we need a bit more of a challenge," Wiley smiled, as he just put three shots back-to-back into the bullseye. "Chris, you wanna help me move the target up the valley a ways?"

Larabee followed, while Buck cleaned everyone's guns. George and Chris walked out of sight of Wilmington and around a slight bend in the clearing. Wiley began to move some large, downed limbs in front of a pine tree on which he was planning to affix his target.


"Can you give me a hand?" George asked, as he maneuvered an especially heavy branch. Chris tossed the one he had and headed over to grab the opposite end of Wiley's branch. All of a sudden, George swung the limb with all of his might, and the log smashed hard into Larabee's chest, knocking the gunslinger off his feet.

"What the hell?" Chris groaned, as he held his hand up to his sore sternum.

George tossed the limb to the side and ran to Larabee's aid. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Chris said. "Just watch what you're doin', will ya?"

Wiles put out his left hand and started to pull Larabee to his feet. Just before he let go of Chris' arm, George's right hand flew around and punched the gunslinger on the left side of the head. The unsuspecting recipient would have crumpled to the ground if Wiley still wasn't holding on to Larabee's hand.

The blond was fighting to stay conscious, as Vin's words about George Wiles came back to haunt him. "Shoulda listened, Larabee," he thought to himself, and the anger fueled him enough to get his legs back under him and plow into the bigger man.

Wiles fell onto the pile of branches, and Chris continued to pummel the downed ex-soldier. When the man in black hesitated for just a second, George shifted his weight and rolled both of them off the brush back onto the grass. The two men grappled and battled for all they were worth. Wiles was heavier and stronger, and his punches had a devastating effect on the smaller man. Chris was tenacious though, Wiley had to give him that. Despite being bloodied and battered, the wiry gunslinger just kept rising and charging again.


"What the hell is takin' so long?" Buck thought. He had cleaned and reloaded the weapons and was waiting for his two friends to set up the target. Just as Buck was about to come into sight of the two fighting men, George finally said, "to hell with this." Wiles picked up one of the thicker tree limbs and slammed it into the back of Larabee's head. Chris collapsed bonelessly to the ground.

Buck witnessed Wiley standing over a downed Chris, and he took off running. "What the hell happened?"

"We were trying to move some of these branches, and the next thing I knew Chris was old cold." George had turned Chris over onto his back, making a show of trying to help him, as Buck approached.

Buck knelt by Larabee and said, "it looks like somebody beat the shit out of him." There were already bruises forming, and Chris had a split lip.

"I guess that's where the limb hit?" Wiley said and sat down to catch his breath.

The tall ladies' man had an uneasy feeling in his gut as he began to examine his unconscious friend. He slowly turned Larabee over, removed his hat, and Buck could easily see the bloody wound as a dark contrast in his friend's blond hair.

"Ya hit him, didn't ya?" Buck gently laid Chris on the ground and began to turn towards Wiles. He never made eye contact. Something hard smashed across his temple, and the world went black.