The breath built up in Vin's lungs; he couldn't inhale or exhale as he crossed the wide muddy street. He nearly went into the saloon, but it was too bright and busy inside, he could see that through the swinging doors. He didn't want to go back to the boarding house, he didn't want to go back to the livery. Vin didn't want to go anywhere he'd already been this day and while that still left him a lot of choices, it didn't leave him with a lot of choices he wanted to be.

With nowhere else to go, Vin turned down another alley and stopped as soon as he was surrounded by darkness. He finally let out the breath that filled his body, and leaned back against the side of the saloon, sheltered a little at least from the rain. He felt sick.

He really didn't mean to be cruel to Tom but dammit he'd been driven to it. If Tom would just stop. Dammit all to hell, if Tom would just stop nagging on him every second they were ever together, Vin knew he wouldn't have had to tell his mother's tale. But now that Tom knew that Vin knew he didn't love him, the play-acting would end Tom wouldn't even try to pretend anymore.

And maybe that's what would hurt Vin the worst.

He'd lost people in his life before, but this was more than losing people. Finally blurting his mother's last request of him had cost Vin his home. Even if he ever did clear his name, now that Tom knew that he knew he wasn't loved, there'd be no welcome for Vin back - there. He wouldn't let himself think of it as home now. He'd lost the boys, he'd lost Sofia. He'd lost Tom.

But that's what his mother told him; her last words to him told him that as much as he might think he belonged to Tom's family, he didn't. Her last appeal to him was to not belong to Tom's family. And all these years, he'd tried his best.

Vin slid down the side of the building until he was crouched close to the ground. As soon as the ache in his chest and the mist in his eyes cleared up some, he'd go into the saloon and drink himself witless.

The familiar footsteps didn't surprise him as much as he wanted them to. He'd never hidden anyplace that Tom hadn't found him; he just figured this time Tom wouldn't try to find him.

Instead of coming into the alley, Tom took his own position leaning against the saloon right at the corner in front, six feet or less from Vin. He didn't say anything right away, he never did. Sometimes Vin wondered if it was to give him a chance to bolt, but this time he was too dispirited to try.

"You know Pa, my Pa, would never eat cornbread." Tom finally started.

"Yeah." Vin thought he remembered hearing something about that once or twice. He pushed himself back up to standing. The movement was awkward one handed and it pulled at the muscles in his sore shoulder

"When he was a boy, they were eating supper and his brother, my Uncle James, he ate his cornbread and got sick. So Pa would never eat it again.

"Yeah." Vin wondered where Tom was going with this.

"You know when that was boy? Seventeen eighty nine. Pa was eight years old, but for as long as he lived he never ate cornbread again because he thought it would make him sick." Tom moved just a bit, to be right at the corner of the building. "He never ate it again because he wanted to protect himself. But do you know what was really sad about that?" he asked. "It was that Pa really loved cornbread."

Vin didn't answer, and Tom moved another foot or so closer. His features were half hidden in the darkness, half illuminated in the flickering light of the street fires.

"Your Ma was dying boy. She told you something that she never had a chance to explain and you were a boy and you made the best sense out of it that you could. But you're a man now and you can take it out and look at it and make better sense of it."

"She wouldn't lie to me."

"She didn't lie to you. You should be proud, damn proud, of the Tanner blood you got in you. That's all she was saying. You Ma wouldn't tell you that you didn't belong in your own family."

"It's not my family."

"We are your family boy. I loved your mother and she loved me. We were a family then and we sure as hell still are a family now."

"You didn't love her." Vin accused him. "If you did, she wouldn't a'told me that."

"Ask Tommy and Maxwell. They're old enough to remember." Tom said. He sounded like he was trying hard not to be angry now. "Ask the Acers or the Petersons or any of our neighbors who knew your Ma. Ask Sofia if you don't believe me. God knows I talked her ear off enough about your Ma."

"Sofia would only say what you wanted her to say." Vin snapped. He didn't know what made him say that, but having said it, it took credence in his mind.

"What?" Clearly the thought was as ludicrous to Tom as it should've been to Vin, but Vin's mind only worked hard to give him evidence.

"Y'saved her from a lynch mob. Y'think she's gonna cross you?" Vin walked around Tom, out of the alley, and onto the boardwalk in front of the saloon. Tom followed him.

"That makes no sense boy, and you know it."

"You just don't want it to make sense, 'cause it just proves that I'm right." Vin intended to go into the saloon, but Tom stopped him.

"So, Sofia only says what I want her to say."

"That's right."

"And she only believes what I believe."

"Yeah."

"And she only loves what I love."

"Yeah she does."

"Oh and you're sure about that are you?" Tom challenged.

"As sure as I've ever been about anything." Vin answered back, hot and without thinking. "Sofia only loves what you love."

"She loves you." Tom said. The implication of Tom's words - and the trap he had walked himself right into - hit Vin like a blow. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Tom smiled at him, and laid his palm against Vin's cheek. "Now get outta the rain." Then he walked away, into the darkness.