I'd say sorry for the evil cliffhanger...but I totally did that on purpose. Learned from the masters (waves to NT and Tipper). Thanks for the continued reviews. Am in a hurry this a.m.-this part is slightly shorter but hopefully I'll be able to post the conclusion later today.

Ezra started to struggle, but the hand over his mouth tightened, thick calloused fingers bruised his face with their grip. The gun moved into his peripheral vision, no longer pointed at him. He followed the line of sight and realized the weapon was now aimed at Vin.

"One sound. One wrong move and Tanner is first to die." The whisper was a mere breath in his ear. Almost inaudible over his pounding heart beat. "You understand me?"

Ezra managed to incline his head enough to signal his acquiescence.

"Good, now slow and quiet. We're going to walk out the back way."

Somehow Ezra managed to stay upright and keep his bad leg under him as he was ruthlessly hauled toward the back stairs. As soon as they were out of sight of the steps and the interior of the saloon, the gun pressed hard into his ribs as his captor wrapped an arm tight around him. Ezra hissed as his shoulder was jarred, but remained silent even when the hand left his mouth and another arm wrapped tightly around him. Whoever had him, virtually carried him down the dark steps and out the back door.

He was set down hard in the dirt alley behind the building. Ezra's leg wobbled,but he stayed standing. He started to turn toward his assailant.

"Eh, eh, not yet." The blow came without any other warning, plunging him into darkness.

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Chuck caught the southerner as he went down and carelessly tossed the smaller man over his shoulder. Standish was lighter than he remembered and he smiled at the idea his attack and torment had prevented the man from thriving.

Reaching his horse, tethered strategically near the back of the saloon, Miller tossed Ezra over the back of animal and quickly secured him with rope. A moment later, Chuck was riding out of the sleepy town, grinning over how simple it had been to grab the gambler.

It was perfect, he knew. His plan would work and Tom would be avenged. If he was lucky, he might even get to kill Tanner, but then again, it'd be better if he left the tracker alive. His smile turned feral. Tanner would get to live the rest of his life knowing he hadn't been able to save his friend. It might not be the same as losing a brother, but from what Chuck had observed of the men and their interaction with Standish… it'd be close enough.

Chuck rode over the familiar trails, skirting trees and rock-strewn barriers as if he'd known the lay of the land since birth. It didn't matter that it'd only been months. He'd basically lived in the wilds of these woods since he'd come to town and started helping Tom set up the ambush on Standish.

He rode at night, intent on learning the land in anticipation of getting his own acreage. It was going to be his payment from Guy Royal for getting hold of the deeds before the settlers. Instead, Standish had managed to deliver the deeds despite being attacked. Tanner had killed Tom, and Guy Royal had refused to pay Chuck anything for a failed job.

Miller's anger deepened at the injustice and he spurred his horse to a quicker pace, ignoring the groan from his semi-conscious passenger. He'd have revenge soon now. His biggest fire yet and this time, Standish wouldn't be walking away from it.

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Vin heard the rider coming in before the others and jumped out of his seat, knocking his chair over in the process.

They were still in the saloon. JD, Buck and Josiah dozing-loudly- while Nathan, Chris and him had talked in quiet whispers about what could be done to help Ezra and stop the fires.

Tanner heard the others following before he pushed through the doors into the cool night.

Outside, a man he recognized as Dunkin Oliver, one of the settlers who'd volunteered to help patrol the newly deeded lands and keep watch, pulled his horse to a stop.

"We got another one," Dunkin told him.

Vin could already see the dark smudges of soot on the stocky man's clothes and face. "Where?"

"Western edge, by the woods." Oliver shook his head. "This one's bad."

"What do you mean?" Chris questioned as the others joined them. JD ran for the livery.

"He started it on the edge of the Johnston's property."

"But he already burned that land," Buck looked confused.

"And there were no patrols there," Josiah clarified.

"Nope. He started it in the tall grass opposite the other fire. It's already reached the brush and the forest. It's going wild."

"Damn." Chris growled. They had no way to fight a wild fire other than to get everything of value out of its path.

"Any new homesteads out there?" Vin questioned.

Oliver nodded. "Only one. Not even cleared yet though. We're moving the Barnes and Jeffreys just to be careful. Getting their livestock and wagons clear. "

"We'll come help. " Chris turned to Nathan. "Go tell Ezra what's happening. See if he's up to going, too."

"He shouldn't be riding right now," Jackson protested.

"But he needs to be included," Josiah reminded.

Chris indicated the upper level of the building. "Don't want him left alone unless he knows he's on his own. We should have told him last time, instead we made it seem like we deserted him."

"Wasn't like that." Buck shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"No, but it might have seemed that way to him." Josiah scratched his head. "Like we think he's too unstable to include. We need to convince him otherwise."

Nathan headed back inside, a muttered, "Fine," thrown over his shoulder.

Chris thanked Dunkin and wasn't surprised when Oliver rode back out. At least he wasn't punishing the horse or being reckless.

"We need to catch this guy," Buck looked at Chris.

"We will."

"Chris!" Nathan's voice echoed through the empty saloon, a repeat of earlier in the day.

"Oh no." Josiah moved first, but Jackson was there at the doors already, frantic and breathless.

"Ezra's gone."

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Ezra woke with a gasp and moan of pain. He tried to move, but froze in sheer terror. The strap. It was back. Breathing was almost impossible, the belt around Ezra's neck was so tight. It held him fast.

A new agony swept over him as he realized his arms had been wrenched back. A tree. He was bound to a tree just thick enough to bind his arms back around the trunk of it. Struggling, he gagged and fought for breath. Pain stabbed at the back of his head as the rough tree bark dug deep through his hair and into the skin.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Ezra's eyes searched until he found his assailant standing to his left, almost out of his field of vision. He couldn't turn his head without choking.

The man laughed and stepped closer, squatting in front of Ezra. He lifted a lit lantern, chasing the shadows away from his features.

Ezra tried to speak but the pressure on his throat was too tight, he wheezed, trying to pull back from the ghost in front of him but he was held immobile.

The man before him looked so much like Tom Wyler. 'Think Ezra.' He commanded himself as the man lowered the lamp again. 'Push aside the fear and think.'

It couldn't be Wyler. Wyler was dead. He was dead. Ezra repeated it to himself as he fought his panic. He felt ready to throw up but knew he couldn't, not like this.

It took a moment, then he blinked and saw it. This man's hair was slightly darker than Tom's blond. He was thinner and his eyes were dark dark brown.

"Ah, you finally see it don't you?" The man swung the lamp as he gestured. "He was my brother," he added simply. "And now you'll die because he did."

The lantern swung again and Ezra followed it with his eyes, searching frantically to figure out where they were. The forest, there were other trees surrounding them. He searched for landmarks. How far from town were they?

"Don't go worrying," Wyler's brother told him. "No one around but us and those who might be close by are a little busy." He waved again, the swinging lamp making the shadows dance creepily.

"There's a little fire they're dealing with." The man's arm stilled as he pointed.

Ezra strained to see out of the corner of his eye…smoke.

His eyes flicked back to his captor.

"That's right." The man grinned and patted Standish's bad shoulder with a comforting gesture that sent waves of new viscous pain through Ezra's body.

He screamed but had no voice. No air. His vision blurred as he struggled to stay conscious and breathe. Breathe. He forced air into his lungs, he could smell the smoke now.

A hand reached for him and suddenly the man was pulling at the belt. It loosened slightly and Ezra sucked in a breath. He was still not able to move or breathe freely, but he could get air into his struggling lungs.

"Don't want you to choke out before the real show gets here."

A hand smacked his cheek twice. "Don't go anywhere," he chuckled.

Ezra watched, wide eyed and helpless as the light moved away and left him in utter blackness.

TBC...