A/N: Hi again guys! We're starting to close in on the end of this one, though once a few other wips are finished or at least closer, Ezra and Eli might have some more adventures. Thank you again to all the reviewers, I really appreciate hearing your thoughts :) They help make me a better writer :)

*.*.*.*.*

*.*.*

*.*

Buck wished the horses could go faster, lost enough in his worries that Vin's call of, "Almost there," nearly went unheard as he shouted it over. Good. They'd been riding nearly fifteen minutes straight now, which at a steady lope was a lot of ground. That Ezra had been covering on foot after the walk to the swimming hole and part way back.

He knew his young cousin had been more than upset, but going on a nearly seven mile walk into the desert without telling anyone was about as risky as trying to play tag with a porcupine, and it didn't sit well with him. Once he got the boy's head on straight and made it clear he wasn't going anywhere he was going to have some words with him about being so darn foolish.

Then find out who had fed him such garbage and rip their head right off.

Vin started reining Peso in as they approached a small rise and Buck followed suit. It went up and then down and then Buck saw where his cousin must be, a sandstone formation that had only partially escaped the desert winds, jutting out of the earth, hollowed and open to the sky. There was an arched opening just high enough for a man to go through on horseback, but Buck, having overtaken Vin, hopped off as he neared. A boy thinking he was being sent away might take it in his head to be a bit skittish, and he was big enough even not on his horse.

Stepping through into the shaded hideaway, Buck's eyes paid no attention to the pretty wellspring or the surprisingly bright greenery scattered around it, scanning the space for one small gambler. For a second he didn't see him and his heart leapt into his throat, choking him. Ezra not being here, when it had been ages now since even Eli had seen him, could be bad. Real bad. Then he saw the small huddled body, mostly just a lump of blue cloth with reddish hair on top and this time his heart leapt right out of his throat as he dropped Lady's reins and rushed to land on his knees next to Ezra. A second later, even as he reached out for the boy, he was sighing in relief, because Ezra's face was tear-stained and sunburned, he could see a scrape on one hand, but he seemed to be mostly alright. Gently, a little worried knowing what Ezra thought, he put a hand on one tucked in shoulder and shook it just a bit, "Hey, lil' pard, what are you doing way out here?" Ezra squirmed a little, like he was trying to nestle into the sandy ground and Buck couldn't help but grin a little. Kid did the same thing to his pillow, when he wasn't shoving it on top of his head. "C'mon now, Ez, it's time to wake up."

Green eyes started to open, Ezra groaning a protest just like Buck was waking him up for the day-

Only to stiffen, pushing himself away almost instinctively on hands that looked to be scraped worse than he'd thought, Buck's stomach knotting in response. Ezra's eyes were both wary and hazy with sleep. He swallowed, and before he could get more than a, "Hey, Hoss-" out, Ezra was blurting at him, words it took him a moment to even start to understand.

"Ah'm not going to live with Cousin Miriam, and you cannot force me to undergo the journey. She smells of old cheese." Even sleepy and upset, Ezra tried to make it come out dignified, controlled, but the damp eyes were a dead give away.

Buck reached for him out of instinct even as he was shaking his head and saying, "Of course not, of course not, Hoss. You ain't going nowhere," intending to pull the boy into his arms, only to receive a glare of such intensity that he stopped mid-motion.

"Ah have no need of pity." Frowning a little at the flat words, because pity had nothing to do with anything, Buck let his voice grow a little stern. Not because he wanted to be, but because he wanted to get his cousin listening to him quick.

"Hey, settle down now, Pard. You're staying with me because you're my family and I want you here, not because of no pity." The glare wavered before disappearing, but Buck wasn't fooled, knew that it was just hidden behind one of the kid's poker faces. He was pretty sure he had about ten. Softening again, but not reaching out yet, he explained, "Heard from Eli you've got some wrong ideas in your head, don't know where you got them, but they're all wrong, you hear me?" The child just looked up at him, face unchanged, but pretty obviously not believing him, his shoulders hunching in just a little. Like he was protecting himself, protecting himself from Buck, and he could swear his heart about broke into pieces right there. What could he say to get this boy, more stubborn than him by far, to actually listen? He'd told him he wasn't-

Oh. Buck knew in that moment that Chris was 100% right, he was a damned idiot.

Making sure to look Ezra right in the eye, his voice a little husky as he said it, Buck insisted, "I love you, Ezra. One whole hell of a lot." There was still something untrusting about Ezra's eyes, but now they said he wanted to, like a half wild horse, not sure yet if it had faith in the hands gentling it or not, and this time he let Buck pull him close and squeeze him. He didn't seem to know what to do, how to feel, pushing a little into Buck's chest, but not relaxing. Not acting like he felt safe, or relieved, just like he wanted to feel that way. Like he wanted to believe him, but he didn't. Buck did what anyone did with a hurt child in their arms, rocked him and murmured comforting words and assurances, as just a trickle of sharp, jagged, almost silent sobs escaped his cousin. Then far sooner than Buck would have expected Ezra pulled away, eyes dried and jacket straightened in about the time it took Buck to blink, for all he was still on the ground in the dust.

It wasn't that he expected for things to be fixed or Ezra to stop being upset-really stop being upset, not the front that was being put on-at the drop of a hat. That he hadn't figured they'd need to have a few long talks, if Ezra could believe something like that, before things were straightened out. But something was wrong here, something Buck wasn't understanding. Ezra was playing the role of the relieved and exhausted-well, that part was probably genuine-child, and doing a pretty bang up job of it, but Buck knew him too well to believe it now. Part of him wanted to press it, thought that maybe that was what he should be doing, but Ezra wasn't just exhausted, he was sunburned and had scrapes on his hands and wrists that needed a bit of seeing too. "Where's your canteen, Ezra? You should fill it before we go." He pushed himself up and held out a hand to his little cousin, who took it without hesitation, if that said anything. He kept close to Buck's side once he had him up as well, but was looking everywhere but at him.

"Thank you for retrieving me, Ah had no ambition to attempt the trek back." No canteen then. Dangerous as anything to set off into the desert without one, but Buck didn't have the heart to say anything just then, let alone scold.

"Pretty long walk you took, I'm not surprised." He reached out and squeezed Ezra's shoulder and for just a second Ezra actually relaxed. Maybe, Buck thought, he had a handle on this after all.

Vin cleared his throat and, when Buck looked over, held up the canteen he'd refilled with cool water. Buck nodded at him in thanks. With only his hands to drink out of after that 'trek' kid had to be drier than he should be. He held up his free hand and Vin tossed it to him. Taking his hand off Ezra's shoulder long enough to twist the lid off, he held it out to the boy. "Take a good pull off that." With a quiet thank you and nod, Ezra drank, slowly at first, but then faster. Buck's eyebrows raised-right by the water where he'd been he'd assumed the boy had drank enough to not be quite so dry as a tinderbox, but he was going to have half that canteen drained in a minute. Of course, Buck didn't know how long he'd been there for sure, or how much of it had been spent sleeping. He bit back the 'Thirsty, pard?' that his lips wanted to blurt when Ezra finally pulled the canteen from his mouth, still holding onto it with fingers that were just a little tight. "We'll just fill that right back up there, pard, and then why don't you hang onto it for me on the ride back?"

A quiet, almost resigned sounding, "Yes, sah," was his answer, but the way Ezra's hand had squeezed onto the canteen a little harder at the beginning of his sentence, only to relax at the end told a whole different story. Unable to help it, he stretched out a hand and smoothed it over his cousin's dark auburn hair.

"You're alright now, Hoss." The kid nodded, waiting a second before he pulled away and knelt by the water to fill the canteen. Buck ran a hand through his hair while Ezra wasn't looking, biting back a sigh. Boy had probably scared himself, when he'd started to get hot and thirsty on a walk that had been too damn long, and then there was the scare he'd been given. If it had been JD scared like that, back when he'd first taken the kid under his wing, there would've been a lot more tears, and probably some yelling, but once it was over the kid would've been clingy as a limpet. Buck knew Ezra wasn't JD, but he was also only thirteen. For far from the first time, he wondered how a kid that young had gotten walls so high. Ezra stood, giving him an expectant look, and Buck settled a hand back on his shoulder, using it to start moving the worn out boy towards Lady. "Time to go home."

*.*.*

Chris looked up at the sun that was about midway down the horizon now, shielding his eyes with one hand from the worst of the glare. He'd looked around about everywhere he would have thought Ezra might be out this side of town, rode out to Miz Nettie's and then a set of shallow caves he'd found the boy coming out of on a patrol. All that had done was worry Nettie and Casey, and get Chris's coat and hat a nice layer of cave dust. By now the thing to do was head back to town, hoping that one of the others had found Ezra. Or that the kid had been smart enough to come home himself. If not they could at least regroup and figure out where they might not have looked.

If the Raley kid hadn't been the one to tell them Ezra had gone off half cocked, he might have wondered if the boy were helping him hide somewhere, so as to avoid wherever the currently wrong-headed kid thought he was being sent.

Turning Pony around, Chris squeezed his heels lightly to get the horse up to an even trot. With all of them looking, Josiah going around to houses while JD looked in nooks and crannies and interrogated anyone out and about if they'd seen Ezra about five times, and Buck and Vin both heading out to the swimming hole…

While the truth was the desert was more than big enough to swallow one young boy, there was no point thinking like that when Ezra was probably in town already, being fussed over and fed. Chris's lips pressed together as he pressed his heels into Pony one more time and clicked his tongue, speeding him to a ground eating canter. Best to be back before dark.

*.*.*

Ezra let Buck guide him to Lady, and even held himself back from protesting as the man assisted him into the saddle as though he were Billy Travis's age, not his own. Vin stopped by him, resting a hand on Ezra's knee and quietly telling him he was glad he was alright.

He didn't understand. He wanted to believe in the simple assurances his cousin had given him-that he was wanted, that he was family, that he was loved. Wanted to believe it badly. Yet, how could he allow himself to? After the horrid words he'd heard. After Buck had laughed so easily at the idea of him leaving, said things would be simpler without Ezra around. For a man like Buck, Ezra knew that simpler often meant better. The man climbed up in the saddle behind him, pulling Ezra snug against him. He was tired and miserable, his hands hurt, and part of him longed to lean back into the broad chest behind him and trust Buck to keep him in the saddle. To trust Buck.

But how could he?

The sun was just starting to lower in the sky as they came over the rise behind the oasis, surprising him a little as he hadn't been aware he'd been gone that long. Ezra gazed ahead, trying to turn his mind to other things, but it couldn't be helped.

Surely, he would think one minute, if Buck truly did not care for you he would have been displeased over the chore you gave him of retrieving you. The man hadn't even scolded him, though part of Ezra vaguely thought his foolish journey would've been deserving of it. Somehow, he'd misunderstood the discussion he'd overheard.

Then, the next minute, he would dash those thoughts to the floor. Indulging in wishes and make believe did not alter the world around you, he'd long learned that. He knew, word for word, what he'd heard all three men say. Mr. Sanchez alone had not been quite so desirous for him to take his leave, and Ezra had a notion that preachers were required to want to redeem and 'guide' all persons. If he did not agree with Mr. Jackson's assessment of him, or had a grievance against him being sent away he would've been more pointed, not merely said they were being uncharitable.

Detesting that he couldn't hold it back, a yawn forced its way out of Ezra, the smooth trot Lady was maintaining rhythmic and slightly soothing. He compelled himself to straighten, not willing to relax into sleep.

If cousin Buck wanted to maintain the illusion that they were a happy family until the day inevitably came-Ezra paused here, having to swallow-then he supposed it would be a great deal easier to help maintain it than to pull it down.

He was a natural actor, after all. Mother had always said.

It shouldn't have been so hard to keep his composure when Buck pulled him back against his chest after a second yawn he could neither halt nor hide, murmuring, "You want to catch a little shut-eye, just go right on ahead," and suddenly he could hear the man's heartbeat, steady and strong.

It shouldn't have made it hurt so much to know it was all a lie.

Ezra only realized his vow to stay awake had been broken when he felt Buck handing him down to someone else, quickly identifying it as Josiah by the smell of wood and varnish, and the strength in the arms holding him. Long practice had him waiting another moment, ears keen for any information, and then he shifted, yawning and stretching his feet towards the ground. Mr. Sanchez obliged, nudging him a bit as though ensuring he were actually awake and then helping him find his feet. Ezra let him, aware of the curious sensation that had him wanting to both move closer to the man and fling himself away, but forcing it down as best he could. It's easy, he told himself as Josiah rested a hand on the nape of his neck, they expected a relieved, chagrined, and slightly uncertain boy, so be that boy.

Somehow, even before he'd truly started, Ezra knew this would be much more difficult than any of the enterprises he'd engaged in for Mother. "You doing alright there son?" Josiah's voice was warm and solid, and-

Just another lie, he reminded himself firmly as he smiled wanly and nodded a little at the big man. Knowing that the best lies were grounded in truth, he allowed himself to admit, "Ah've had better days." Josiah chuckled quietly and rubbed his thumb lightly where it rested between Ezra's neck and shoulder.

"I'm certain of that. And the harder the day the longer it feels." Mr. Sanchez was giving him the sort of look that generally meant a lot of talking was about to be done, much of it in circles. Ezra didn't mind that ordinarily, but it was rather different when he was likely to be one of the main topics, rather then the life of some obscure saint or some historical expedition. Deciding that it would be what was expected, and only for that reason, Ezra craned his head around towards the livery door, eyes searching for Buck to emerge from the warm room, Lady seen to. "He'll be out again in just a minute, Ezra. Don't expect Buck wants to let you out of his sight for long, either."

"Perhaps not," Ezra murmured as he straightened from his lean, and then immediately regretted it as Josiah fixed him with a concerned and marginally stern look.

"He was very worried about you, knowing you'd been told some cruel lies and then not able to find you. We were all very worried about you. But our wandering lamb is home now, back with the flock. Where he belongs." Ezra did not actually swallow furiously, keeping the compulsion back through sheer mule headedness, but his emotions felt as though he should be doing so fast enough to produce a wind current. Josiah was meeting his eyes in a way that had Ezra considering that the man could see into his soul, like the man outside the circus in New Orleans who had claimed he could see the color of them. Only, that had been a con and with Josiah he could feel it. "You understand?"

It took Ezra a second to process that he'd been asked a question and even as the lie tripped off his tongue he found he did not want to say it, "Yes sah." Josiah kept looking at him for an unending stretch of time, Ezra now certain the man was capable of seeing something that would be hidden to the average human.

Buck's echoing footsteps delivered him from the all seeing gaze, his cousin asking Josiah, "Is Nate up in the clinic? Ezra's got a couple scrapes that could do with some seeing to." Ezra stiffened even as he tried not to. As much as it was Buck's words that had cut the deepest, Nathan's had been by far the harshest and he wasn't entirely confident that he would be able to handle the man behaving as though he cared for him when the opposite was true.

Mr. Jackson had said he didn't trust Ezra's smile. All he could think of was various men he or mother had faced across poker tables, among other, worse, places, men with smiles like sharks who Ezra had known would clamp ruthless jaws around him if given half a chance.

Was that what his smile looked like to Nathan?

"I believe so, what with JD having scoured the town about six times he thought the best thing to do was ready the clinic." He shifted his gaze from Buck to Ezra and intoned, "Just in case." Ezra swallowed.

"Think Ezra learned his lesson about taking long walks in the desert, Josiah," Buck said it firmly, but with no rancor in his voice, holding out one arm as though he expected Ezra to come over and stand against his side.

Josiah's hand dropped from his neck as he acquiesced, "I guess you'd know best about that, brother," and Ezra hated the uncertain feeling that stole over him. He'd decided on a course of action, it should be simple enough to follow it. Buck's face started to droop the longer Ezra just stood there, and that decided it for him. He walked, not in a hurry, over to his cousin's side, not actually leaning against Buck as the man was clearly inviting, but close enough that after a second his hand dropped to Ezra's shoulder, squeezing.

Ezra was certain of very little at that moment, but that this was the most perplexing event of his life was clear to him. He never would have presumed his cousin to be such a skilled thespian. Josiah's sermons could be theatrical, but his words had seemed sincere, and Ezra had had lessons from the best in reading voices for inflection.

Only, he was entirely unsure if it was not perhaps his desire to see such things in them that was causing him to find them. He was meant to rule his emotions, to use them as a tool, not let them rule him. It had been one of Mother's first lessons. In this situation he was not sure he was succeeding.

"C'mon, Hoss. You got an appointment with the doc."

Buck began using his hold on Ezra's shoulder to steer him in the direction of the clinic, but his heels pressed into the dirt with a will, Ezra protesting weakly, "There is no need to disturb Mr. Jackson, a thorough washing of my hands will more than suffice-"

"You're getting your hands seen to, Ezra. Your sunburn needs some salve, too." Buck's voice was unmovable in a way he had only heard one or two times before, but already knew it was futile to argue with. Ezra scowled at the ground, telling himself that he was maintaining the image he'd chosen to project, but knowing in his heart of hearts that he was scowling at the ground because he felt like doing so.