Frank Hawley was back and from the looks of the long legs hanging out the back of the wagon his trip had been successful. The feet, booted in black leather with silver spurs and silver studded spur straps, bounced along with the movement of the wagon over the rutted roadway. A small load of silver ore, gone to an assay office, replace by human cargo.

He was another tall one; lean and well muscled with blond hair and dressed completely in black. Even unconscious he looked dangerous. Had Hawley finally made a mistake and picked someone who would be, if not missed, simply more than he could handle Bethany wondered?

When he finally came to, the newcomer was as sick as the others but refused her help. Stripping himself of his soiled garments he eased himself into the tub, his anger simmering hotly just below the surface. "Where am I?" he asked, his gruff voice startling her.

"I don't know. No one does."

His head pounding, Chris leaned back and closed his eyes afraid he would be sick again. "How'd I get here?"

"Frank Hawley brought you, in his wagon. You were most likely in a bar, drinking, minding your own business, maybe talking to a woman."

"That's right. What's this Hawley got to do with it?"

"He pays the bartender to poison the drinks, to waylay drifters, men no one will miss if they drop off the face of the earth." Chris looked at her, his eyes barely slits, and she added quickly, "Men to work the mine."

Opening his eyes all the way he looked intently at her. "I'm lookin' for someone. A tall man, dark hair, moustache, the kind of man, at first glance, you'd think was a lazy, no account womanizer. A man no one would miss."

Her eyes lit up in instant recognition. "Buck Wilmington," she whispered.

Sighing Chris shook his head. Leave it to Buck to ride out of Four Corners, his feelings all banged up, and head to the only town within 50 miles where the bartender dealt in slave labor. If he wasn't into six kinds of trouble Chris didn't think his oldest friend would be remotely happy.

"He's in the mine with the others," Bethany then told him.

"How many?"

"Five workers plus the overseer, Ruben. His brother Frank runs the mine."

"That's seven to one. Those odds never bothered Buck before."

"The workers would never harm Mr. Wilmington, it's Hawley. He never gives a man a chance to rebel, just beats them into submission and then slowly starves them. The mine takes care of the rest. And it was not for lack of courage on Mr. Wilmington's part that he did not escape," she said in deference to him and the others. It was the fact that he couldn't leave her behind that he never tried to escape and she paused and took an unsteady breath. "He's not the same man you knew," she said cryptically and left clean clothes for him.

When he had finished bathing and his stomach had stopped rebelling Chris stepped from the tent where Bethany waited for him shackles in hand. She would never forget Hawley's threat to shoot the next man she failed to shackle and bent to put them on him.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?" Chris asked angrily and backed away out of her reach.

"Savin' your life, tough man." Hawley's voice came out of the darkness as he stepped up to the new man and jabbed his rifle barrel painfully into Chris gut while Bethany finished the job. Grabbing her by the hair Hawley yanked her up and shoved her roughly toward the cook fire. "That grub ain't gonna serve itself."

Chris straightened up but never moved to help her or to intervene in any way and Hawley smiled. This one was all show with his dark clothes and the dark looks he'd been casting around the bar. He'd be easier to break than he'd thought, mores the pity. Even after five weeks in the mine and at the receiving end of his wrath Wilmington showed more guts than this pistolaro.

Hawley stood appraising him as the others came to the cook fire like ghostly specters out of the dark. Buck brought up the rear and, although Chris didn't acknowledge that he even knew the man standing across the fire next to the woman as she served, his appearance shocked him. Wilmington had lost at least 20 pounds off his already lean frame and seemed to have lost stature and become shorter than Chris remembered.

Bethany handed a plate to Buck and asked him to bring it to the new man. She gently squeezed his rock hard bicep, a subtle signal, and Buck sighed. Hawley had replaced Petey already and the new man stood just outside the circle of light thrown from the fire wearing the same clothes Buck had worn his first few days in camp. His own clothes were now filthy, torn and threadbare, worn ragged by the abrasive rocks and Buck looked back at Beth, her eyes still fixed on him as she continued to serve the others, and wondered if she would now choose the stronger newcomer who breathed easy and could protect her more readily from Hawley than he could. Would he be turned out of her tent to sleep with the others?

Anger flared in him and he wanted to pummel the newest member in camp, to retain his place in her bed and in her heart. He wanted to smash the man's head with the sledgehammer that had almost become a part of him until he heard the man say softly just above a whisper.

"Leave it to you to have the only woman in this hell hole lookin' at you with love light shinin' in her eyes, you son of a bitch." Chris stepped into the fire's light and took the plate from his startled friend's bandaged hands.

The dogs at the far end of the camp began to howl and pull at chains then quickly settled into uneasy barking. Hawley looked toward the dogs. When they finally settled down Hawley looked back at the two men standing near the fire then at his plate as stew dripped down his chin.

"Is he out there?" Buck whispered guessing it was Vin Tanner who traveled with Chris.

"Him and Ezra," Larabee replied around a mouthful of the tasteless gruel.

"If he suspects anything he'll turn the dogs loose on 'em." Buck warned, again in a whisper, then turned and headed back to the fire to get his own plate.

Frank finished his plate and, sure that the bitch would throw her lot in with the newcomer, taunted the ladies man between belches as Buck walked by , "Look's like nights are gonna be a lot colder for you, cowboy."

Taking his plate Buck walked slowly to the rocks where he could sit and eat in peace and, deep in the shadows, he took in fully the realization that his friends were finally there and tears slipped down his cheeks. It was almost over...one way or the other. If Ezra and Vin failed to take down Hawley and his brother and ended up prisoners or, worse yet, food for the dogs at least someone would be there to protect Bethany Williams until Josiah, J.D. and Nathan came. As for himself, he was done.