The smoke was thicker than the flames, but both were being fanned by a gusty wind that tunneled between the wide and open doors at each end of the livery. The flames were catching up to the smoke, fed as they were by the blow.

Several townspeople were already scurrying around searching for direction, a course of action when Vin exited the sheriff's office. Josiah was running to help from the church. The tracker fell in beside the man in black as he rushed past from the saloon.

As he got closer to the building, Vin heard the frightened squeals, snorts and stomping of the horses. The primitive fear of the horses, their not comprehending or understanding the attack, reached into his soul. Even as he veered to rescue the animals, he realized he was comparing the attack against them to the letter he had received. It brought him up short, that he would compare the life and death situation of innocent animals, to the mere receiving of a derogatory comment. Worse it had stopped him for a split second and stolen time that could make a difference. Larabee was past him. Tanner sped forward to make up for his lapse.

"Nathan!" Josiah cried. The healer lay half in and half out of the barn-like doors. Josiah skidded to his knees beside his friend, felt a pulse and immediately lifted him out of the doorway and away from the danger. The jostling revived the black man. He began to struggle. "Nathan, Nathan, it's Josiah. You're safe. Calm down." Slowly, Nathan's eyes focused. When he saw this, the Preacher took time to glance around.

The townspeople had started a more than adequate bucket brigade. One or two more hands wouldn't help much. Nathan seemed to have to think, to take in his surroundings. Then the flames in the livery seemed to galvanize him. He tried to move. Josiah held him down. And he fought his old friend. His thoughts were still fragmented. He hadn't even realized he had not explained the situation.

Larabee saw this; remembering he had watched Ezra walk out to join Nathan. His voice didn't reveal the dread the next question brought forward. "Nathan, where's Ezra?"

The searching look in Nathan's eyes as he focused on the gaping doors of the livery indicated that he was clearly expounding on this question as he gasped, "Buck ... JD ..."

Larabee jumped. He was headed into the flames. Josiah loosened his hold on Nathan, rose and tried to intercept the duster-clad leader. Vin gaped. Larabee turned in his skin as he thought only a cat could and almost went over Josiah's shoulder in his determination to get into the stable. Josiah couldn't hold on. Larabee was inside. Vin was with him - He knew exactly what his best friend was thinking. The gunshot.

The smoke was thick; the flames ripping with the wind. The smell of burning hay permeated the air. The frightened cries of the horses were increasing. At times Vin never even heard them, focused first on Nathan then the dread that one of his friends was still inside. But between those thought-focusing traumas, the sounds of the horses tore at him.

The first thing he noted was that Buck and JD's horses, still saddled, were inside. That didn't bode well for the two. As inseparable as they had become after JD thought he had lost the older man, visions of them going down together couldn't be erased from his mind. Then he saw the body on the blood soaked hay. Larabee, coughing from the smoke, was already there. The look on his friend's face was unreadable. But it wasn't destroyed. Vin moved closer and confirmed what he believed. The body wasn't one of his friends.

Vin pulled his bandana up over his nose and mouth to protect himself from the thick, oily smoke. They both looked around. Whatever had happened had taken place near this door. Buck, Ezra and JD weren't here. Not being able to save his friends, Larabee determinedly did what he could. He loosened the reins of their horses and slapped them on the rump to encourage them out of the doors. They didn't need the encouragement. Vin was already opening stalls and untying the rest of the horses. All seven boarded their horses here and Vin was equally determined to rescue them and the other stock. Some of the animals ran out the door near the body. The others fled out the back doors.

The roof was creaking. The fire had crawled up the walls to ignite the hay in the loft and was beginning to rain down on them. The smoke was choking them. But not until all of the animals were safe did Larabee and Tanner themselves escape the flames. Coughing, they knelt beside Nathan. Larabee noticed someone had brought out the body. It had to be Josiah. "You saved that! Buck and the others could have been in there!"

"You wouldn't have been saving the horses if you thought they were in there." Josiah answered patiently. He let his fear and anxiety out in certain ways - Penance or alcohol. Anger was Larabee's way. Nathan was just relieved at who was and wasn't dead. He had dreaded that Josiah would carry out a corpse in a bright green jacket.

"Better to help save the animals than that -"

"I didn't save the man. I'm not so fixated on Christian burial practices. At least not for the likes of him. I saved the only evidence we have to what is going on."

Larabee wanted to fight. He wanted to rail at something - someone. But Josiah's tactic worked. The man realized there was no benefit in continuing this discussion. "Nathan, what do you know?" The pained expression on the healer's face brought the gunfighter up short and his next question was with a sincere softness. "Are you all right?"

The other man nodded, fingering the knot behind his ear. His fingers came away bloody.

Josiah dipped his bandana in one of the pails that came past through the water brigade on its way to the flames and cleaned the blood. "They set the livery on fire as a diversion."

"Who?"

This time Nathan shook his head, 'no'. He didn't really know the answer to that. He supplied what he did know. "That one called the leader Bishop or some such. I think that's what bought him a bullet." After a beat, his dark eyes met those of his leader, "Do you know that name?"

"Am I supposed to?" Guilt immediately fed off the man in waves.

"No." The pained look on his friend's face added a degree of sincerity to his voice. "No. They said you wouldn't know them." It was, literally, the truth, Nathan rationalized. The man said he was hired to do this job.

"Wasn't this one of the men playing cards with Ezra earlier tonight?" Josiah asked, still looking to the body as a source of clues.

"Revenge?" Larabee hissed in righteous anger, "Those damn cards caused this ...?"

"No." Nathan started to tell him that it was revenge, but the gambler was innocent this time. It was the gunslinger's dark reputation that had ripped their group apart. But what good would that do? The implication of those words and the resulting guilt would only distract their leader from focusing on the rescue. "No," Nathan repeated. Single words were easier as he fought the throbbing headache, but he forced himself to supply more information. "They were after Buck. And JD as a tool to use against him. Ezra showing up just let them get back at him for winning their money."

"If this is over some outraged husband ..." Their leader didn't finish the sentence. Through his fury he couldn't find the words. Larabee's anger was like a jagged, broken wheel. Unleashed, the spokes stabbed out at any target. He was angry at the bushwackers who had kidnapped men who were closer to him than he could ever admit, even to himself. But those responsible weren't here. When Chris Larabee wasn't able to focus his anger on the guilty, if the innocent or injured party were a closer target, they felt his ire. That lack of control had done considerable hurt to relationships ever since Josiah had known the man. He feared it was only a matter of time before the misdirected anger caused irreparable damage. At least this time neither of the maligned had heard the accusations. But then again, maybe he'd rather have Buck and Ezra here to defend themselves than at the mercy of such violent men.

JD was horrified that they would leave Nathan unconscious in the flaming stables. But Chris, Vin and Josiah would have heard the gunshot and already be on the way. Nathan would be safe. At least there was that. The young sheriff remembered how he had watched their attackers indifferently kill the man who had called the leader Bishop and all but sling the smaller gambler over the dead man's horse. Then they had led their captives toward the back livery doors. The boy recalled he had been almost cocky by that time. Seven horses together? Vin would be on them before they reached the scrub brush country outside of town.

Those hopes had been shattered as the men immediately separated upon hitting the street. One of the men circled back to track the activity as the town fought to save the livery. Ezra and Buck were lead by two of their captors each in an opposite direction. The leader of the group ponied JD's unfamiliar mount in a third direction out of town. Now JD couldn't hide his anxiety as cold realization sank in. He was alone and couldn't help his friends. They had split up and how would even Vin follow three separate trails? How would he know which one to follow? Most frightening - more so than seeing Buck unconscious and unable to protect himself, more so than Ezra's green jacket disappearing into the gloom, at the mercy of a man who had only smirked when his own partner had been gunned down by their leader - most frightening was the look on the man who led his horse. The man seemed to read his mind - the hope and then the hope gone. And the man laughed.

The fire had, indeed, been a diversion. The hay had been dampened to cause more smoke than blaze or permanent ruin. Why would someone take such care to minimize property loss? Josiah didn't have time to contemplate the situation. It was something in Nathan's eyes that caught and held Josiah tonight. The flames were near extinction. The darkness was creeping back by degrees. But they didn't hide what Josiah saw in his best friend's eyes. Deceit. Nathan Jackson was hiding something. That something could cause the usually brutally honest healer to conceal facts that might save their friends concerned the preacher deeply. So involved in trying to read the rocky emotions of Larabee and Jackson, Josiah didn't realize Vin was missing until Chris's brusque greeting announced his reappearance.

"Anything?"

"Releasing the other horses erased any trail I could pick up here. Further out I still couldn't pick up sign from seven horses together." He was basing his search on the information Nathan had provided as to the number of men who had been involved in the attack. "Maybe at first light ..."

"Moon's almost as bright as early morning light. Seven horses, Vin. Buck and the others may not have to first light." As Nathan and Josiah heard it, it was a question - desperate but simply saying 'Are you sure?'

Vin heard accusation. His self-confidence was already eaten at, first by the written attack and then when his comparison of the criticism had slowed his response time to a situation that could have been life or death for four of his friends. And though it was not something he could put into words, Vin felt that the part of him from which the words came was the part of him that helped him read sign; interpret nature. Now his self-confidence took an equally violent blow when he thought he was failing his friends. "I'll try again." He said simply and was gone.

Larabee turned back to Nathan. "Did they say anything? Any clue who ...?"

"They were hired. The man behind this wasn't there."

"Do you remember anything they said? To give you a clue where they were headed?"

"They were careful." Nathan replied groggily. The adrenaline surge was wearing off. "Mighty careful." He nodded to the body. "That one accidentally called the leader by his real name. That's the result."

Chris stared into the darkness. "Bishop." He struggled with it unsuccessfully.

Josiah came up with a course of action. "We'll get with Mrs. Travis in the morning. Wire some towns about the name ... go through wanted posters ..."

"That's not going to tell us where they are!" Larabee was again striking out in his helplessness.

"You got a better suggestion?" Josiah asked softly, trying to keep any challenge out of the question. Chris met his eyes then stalked off into the dark night between the street fires.

There was something wrong with all three of his friends tonight. Josiah had never been able to reach Larabee in this state. It caused more distance between them when he tried. Vin was out looking for impossible signs because he thought if Chris asked it of him, he should be able to do better. Nathan was the only one within his reach just now. That one he could make talk. He met Nathan's eyes as he offered him a hand up. Nathan knew the interrogation he was in store for if he didn't concede gracefully. It showed on his face. Josiah broke into a broad smile despite the circumstances. Nathan returned it. It was good to have Josiah around. To share the burden he carried. He couldn't afford to tell Larabee he was the reason for their friends' peril. He could tell Josiah. Together they would figure something out.

Vin opened one bat wing door enough to slip through. The others were at the usual table. Was there comfort in rallying here? Or did it drive home the loss; that some of their number were missing? Vin knew Josiah and Nathan could have been asleep because it was the smart thing to do. But the volatile Chris Larabee shouldn't - couldn't - be left alone. And so they stayed up to watch over him and hopefully prevent any reckless actions.

Tanner knew that Larabee would have been equally worried about Josiah or Nathan if they were the missing. Vin knew how much his friendship meant to the older man. He didn't know why. He didn't analyze. It was one of those friendships that would be lessened if you tried to figure why it worked. He would be thankful for it. Be inspired by it. It was the three men who were missing who weren't reconciled in Larabee's mind. The boy didn't know if he had earned the gunfighter's respect. The dark clad gunfighter had never taken the time to tell him that he had. The old friend thought he still had to earn forgiveness. Larabee had never said there was nothing to forgive. The antagonistic gambler didn't know if he had earned his trust. Chris had never told him trust had been there from the beginning or he would never have gotten his second chance. If anything happened to them before the slate was cleared, it would always be etched in the memory. As much as Vin was worried about his friends, he worried about Chris. The thoughts flashed through his mind in the time it took him to move from the door to his friends' table.

Chris Larabee looked the question at his friend from beneath the wide black brim of his hat; read the response and lowered his eyes back to his glass. Without a word he knew the tracker had been unsuccessful in his search. Chris shot the liquor back and poured another. Josiah and Nathan weren't drinking. There would be time enough for that later if they needed the escape. Larabee, however, unhesitatingly poured another shot and one for the tracker. Vin ignored his glass.

Chris held his glass between forefinger and thumb. Suspended there it caught the light like flame and it caught the tracker's fascination.

Soft red fire ...

Tanner shut down the thought forcefully.

Larabee downed the liquid like it was water.

Soft red fire that doesn't burn ...

"I hear Buck gave in to take the boy grapplin'." Josiah murmured as if things would be back on track shortly. "Reckon he'll grab that one big as a Conestoga?"

Vin played along, surprising himself. But it was to give his mind something external to focus on.

Lies believed and good times gone ...

Vin shook his head to get the poetic words out of his mind.

"I want Buck healed up before he goes out like that." Nathan growled as if it were the most important injury facing the tall man.

"Buck don't know how to be sick." Chris said. There was history there. Bitterness.

A memory that won't be scalded clear ...

"Buck and Ezra ain't neither 100% yet." Nathan shot back.

"Well, they ain't fishin', are they? They're out there with men who are 100% and want to kill them." Chris growled and drank directly from the bottle. Vin pulled himself up and left abruptly. Josiah and Nathan watched him leave the room. Larabee, lost in his own emotional turmoil, missed what was going on with his troubled friend.

Vin's boots seemed to hit the hard boardwalk in rhythm to the words that wouldn't leave his head. He tried to block them from his mind or concentrate on ways to find his friends. The words wouldn't be drowned out.

Soft red fire that doesn't burn
A memory that won't be scalded clear
Of lies believed and good times gone
That maybe never were

I exist the day to live the glass
And find in the amber bottom
The last rosy swirl of all things that should have been
But finally never were

Oh, God, let the magic work
Don't let me grow immune
To the slow stupor I grow
'Gainst truths that return all too soon.

The image of his haunted gunfighter friend emerged in words. It came as naturally as breathing. How the hell could he be thinking of poetry at a time like this?! Vin threw himself into the chair outside the sheriff's office and pulled the yellowed, accusatory paper out of his pocket and fingered it. Why wouldn't the rhymes leave him alone? He never wanted to be part of them again.