Sorry for such a long wait between chapters! I started this story without much of a plan for where it was going, but, thanks to MusesOwnMyMind for her extreme patience and gift for plotting stories and developing characters, I was able to get unstuck. :) Thanks as always for following/favoriting/reviewing!

Chapter 2

Chris watched Morgan fall against Nathan and he dodged forward to grab Morgan before she collapsed to the floor. The woman Buck had found motioned toward her strange looking furniture, a sofa that had more cushioning than anything Chris had ever seen, and Chris took Morgan to the settee.

He carefully laid her down, her limbs falling limply. Chris looked over her features, trying to see any sign that she would be ok.

"Chris," Nathan said.

Chris' head jerked up at the healer.

"Let me look her over," Nathan said.

Chris got to his feet and moved far enough away that Nathan could get to Buck's sister, but hovered nearby.

Nathan's hands probed at Morgan's head.

"Do you have enough light?" asked the woman who had brought them to her house. She moved to the wall and flicked a small switch, causing a globe on the ceiling overhead to glow.

The men all jumped back from it, Nathan leaning in closer to Morgan like he was shielding her.

"What is that?" JD yelled in alarm.

The men all stared up at the bright circle.

The woman had the same alarmed expression on her face, but she was looking at them, not the strange light overhead.

Morgan groaned and with one last look at the trapped lightning—or whatever it was—Chris turned his attention back to her.

"You got any smelling salts?" Nathan asked the woman without taking his eyes off Morgan.

"Do I have what?" the woman asked.

"Is that witchcraft?" JD whispered to Buck, looking at the glowing orb.

"Ok, look," the woman said, taking a step back from JD. "I don't know what is going on with all of you, but you need to leave. Your friend," she said, motioning to Morgan, "can stay. I'll call an ambulance, but you need to get out now."

Chris saw Ezra's arm move slightly and knew he was getting ready to pop out his wrist derringer. The man would never admit it, but he was fiercely protective of the group he had come to call his family. And Chris knew the gambler carried a soft spot for Morgan and her constant need to push boundaries. Chris shook his head slightly at Ezra. This woman had given them shelter in a strange place, they couldn't afford to be cast out. Not while Morgan was injured.

Buck was moving toward the woman, hands held out at his sides in a show of innocence. His face was softening in spite of the tight lines of worry for Morgan around his eyes, choosing his gentle and compassionate show of charm.

Satisfied that Buck could get the woman back on their side, he turned his attention back to Morgan. Everything in him was coiled, waiting to decide if wariness should turn to dread, depending on what happened with Morgan's condition.

He hated standing around, helpless to do anything for Morgan.

Nathan glanced up at him and Chris read the sympathy in his friend's eyes. "Look around, see if you can find some willow bark outside. Make a good tea for the headache she's sure to have when she wakes up."

Chris knew the willow bark wasn't an urgent need. And he knew Nathan was giving him a task to keep his hands busy, but it was needed if he was going to stay sane. And staring at Morgan, unconscious, wasn't going to do that.

Chris checked his gun at his side and headed toward the door, meeting Buck's eyes on the way. He could see the worry for Morgan there. But Buck was going to focus on their unexpected hostess and make sure Morgan didn't have to be moved. Or worse, be without them.

Chris headed out the door, closing it quietly behind him, more out of concern for Morgan's condition than anything else. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. But the more he looked, the more disoriented he felt and he had to fight the alarm that started to grow.

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"Now, Darlin'," Buck said to the young woman in front of him. He took a step toward her as Chris crossed behind her, heading out the door. He met his long time friend's look, knowing Nathan was skilled at his craft, but also knowing Morgan's condition wasn't good.

He turned his attention back to the one thing he could do. Get the soiled dove in front of him to let them stay. At least long enough to help Morgan.

"Don't call me that," she snapped.

Buck blinked. He had never known a prostitute to take offense at terms of endearment.

"Ok then," he said. "What's your name, Miss?"

She pursed her lips like she wasn't going to answer, but then looked over at Morgan and her face softened.

"Cheyenne," she said.

"You don't look like an Indian," JD said.

"What?" the woman asked, looking at JD like he wasn't speaking English.

"Buck asked you for your name, not your tribe," JD said.

The girl had that look again, like they were the crazy ones, not her with her ability to make globes on the ceiling glow. Buck glanced up at that again, then noticed the strange black box on a table, some sort of mirror maybe? But it didn't have much of a reflection in the blank, black face of it.

"My name is Cheyenne," she said. Then pressed her lips together like she regretted saying it.

"It's an awful pretty name," Buck said, trying to smooth things over. They needed her help, that much was clear. She eyed him suspiciously. In spite of the worry that was threatening to take over every time he glanced at Morgan, Buck gave her a smile. "I'm Buck," he said. "That's my sister Morgan. I really appreciate you givin' us a hand."

Cheyenne stared at him for a beat. Her posture finally softened slightly. She turned to Nathan. "What do you need for her? Does she need an ambulance?"

Nathan frowned. "Not much to be done for a head injury," he said grimly. "Can't tell what's goin' on in there. Just have to wait."

Cheyenne's face screwed up in confusion and she shook her head. "What in the world—"

But whatever she was about to say was cut off by another moan from Morgan. Buck, JD, Vin, and Ezra all moved in closer to look over Nathan's shoulder.

Buck found himself holding his breath but he couldn't manage to let it out. Not until he knew his sister would be ok. Or at least on her way to ok. If anything happened to Morgan—

"What are you all staring at?" Morgan mumbled, trying to push herself up.

Nathan laid a restraining hand on her shoulder, keeping her down and Buck found himself happier to hear her ornery tone than he had ever been before.

Morgan blinked and looked around, then lifted a hand to rub at her head. "Nathan?" she asked.

"You're gonna be fine," Nathan said.

And hearing those words was more than Buck could take. He took a step away from the knot of men gathered around the couch. He went toward the door Chris had exited, getting outside before he lost control.

He stood on the small wooden stoop outside the door, wrapping his fingers around the rough wood rail.

He finally let out the breath trapped in him with a forceful exhale. Then sucked in a breath of the fresh air. His hands started to shake and he tightened his grip.

"You ok?"

The voice behind him drew his attention. Taking one last breath, Buck tried to get himself under control. He straightened and turned.

Cheyenne stood there, her blue eyes studying him, caution mixed with concern.

"Yeah," Buck said, but his voice shook. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just relieved. If anything happened to Morgan…" he couldn't finish the thought and regretted even saying it.

Cheyenne was studying him.

"What?" Buck asked.

She shook her head and took a step back, not that it gave her much space on the small porch. "Just seems like you really care about your sister."

Buck shook his head. "Of course I do," he said. "She's all I have for family. It's just us."

Cheyenne was staring at him again like she couldn't figure him out.

Buck held her gaze, waiting to see if she was going to share whatever was going through her mind.

"Not everyone sees family that way," she said bluntly.

Buck felt a stir of compassion for this poor girl. He wondered how she had lost any connection to family and if that's why she ended up working in a red light district. "It's a real shame when someone don't have family," Buck said.

She let out a soft snort. "And sometimes it might be better to not have any." Before Buck could respond to that, she shook her head, shaking off whatever remorse she might have.

Buck didn't push, but he figured there was more to the young woman than she let on. Definitely more to her than being a soiled dove.

"I should check on Morgan," he said, making a move toward the door.

Cheyenne nodded and moved away from the door. Buck waited to see if she would follow him in, but she stayed outside. Something in him didn't want to leave her alone, not with the resigned lines that bracketed her mouth. But he needed to check on Morgan, so he went inside, closing the door on the woman who had reluctantly took them in.

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