I don't own any of the Magnificent Seven characters; I just like to take them out of their boxes and play with them. All towns, institutions and characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

"So I'm sure that you agree with me, Orin, that it's really not appropriate for Mr Standish to have that boy with him above the Saloon. The child should be placed with a family or in the appropriate institution until a family can be found."

Judge Orin Travis grunted non-committedly to signify that he'd heard his daughter-in-law's shrill tirade, as he stared into his empty tea cup wishing it had some good whiskey in it, but he wasn't sure that he agreed with her. He'd received a lengthy letter from Ezra regarding the child, as well as telegrams from Josiah, Chris, Nathan and – surprisingly - one terse telegram from Nettie Wells and another from Gloria Potter. All of the telegrams had been in favour of the gambler adopting the orphan, citing an already established loving bond between the pair and stating a willingness to help out if needed. The only telegrams he received against the adoption were from Mary, Mr Conklin and Mrs Fletcher. The latter two being notoriously bitter agitators who hadn't a good word to say for anyone or anything.

From Ezra's letter, it sounded like the boy had had a rough start to life and because of such may be difficult to place with a family. Having witnessed Ezra's way with children first hand, Orin was leaning towards granting the adoption but wanted to meet with all the relevant parties before making up his mind. There were many orphans taken in by unmarried women or widows, just as there were many orphans taken in by unmarried men. Usually in these instances there was some form of blood relation, or friendships with the deceased parents, but he didn't have a problem with a single person raising a child alone. Judging by the amount of correspondence that he'd already received, it didn't sound like Ezra would be alone in raising the child anyway. In fact, in his letter, Ezra had outlined his plans to involve his peacekeeping brethren, Chanu and Kojay, along with the indomitable Mrs Wells, Ms Recillos and Mrs Potter for their feminine input. Ezra's letter had shown more forethought and planning than many parents put into the children born to them.

Unfortunately, Orin's plans to meet with Chris Larabee and get his take on things had been derailed when he'd been ambushed by Mary as soon as he'd stepped off the stage and dragged to her living quarters, on the pretence of a refreshing libation and meal. Oh, she'd provided the weak tea and dainty sandwiches, but she'd also been giving him indigestion with her strident views.

"Mary, I'm sure that you're aware that I must listen to the sides of all parties in such matters before deciding something that could have such an impact on this young boy's life," rumbled the Judge, desperately wishing that his wife was here to distract the single-minded young widow in front of him. Mary was a good woman, in her own way, but she could also be a damn nuisance when she climbed up on her high horse. Given how quickly she'd sent away her own son after Steven's death, the Judge wasn't all that convinced of Mary's suitability to judge whether anyone else was a fit parent. Both he and Evie had tried to convince her to come with Billy and set up a new home in Denver, but she stubbornly refused to give up the paper.

"But Orin," whined Mary, frustrated that the Judge hadn't immediately sided with her when it was so obvious that she was in the right. Her argument had been without fault and perfectly persuasive, why wouldn't anyone listen to reason? Resisting the urge to stamp her foot, she demanded, "Why would a young single man suddenly want to adopt a child? Especially one with Mr Standish's lifestyle? It's just not natural…"

About to reply, Orin's eyebrows rose as Mary suddenly brought her hands to her mouth to cover a gasp before she leaned over the table and whispered harshly, "You don't think he's… he's one of those sort of men. That he wants the child to satisfy his unnatural urges… Oh My God! Billy! He's been around my son!"

"MARY! I will not let you slander a man's name like that in my presence. Ezra's always shown himself to be very capable with the children of this town, Mary; showing no deviant behaviour whatsoever. No-one has ever voiced a single complaint against him. What's more, I know for a fact that Billy is extremely fond of Ezra and has no fear of him whatsoever. God help me; I have seen my share of abused children, Mary, and Billy does not exhibit the signs in any way," growled the Judge as he banged his fist on the table in front of him to emphasis his points, fixing Mary with the same look he used on the criminals brought before him. "I don't think I need to remind you of just where this sort of malicious speculation can lead, either. Ezra doesn't deserve to be lynched for your unfounded, hysterical suspicions, so I had better not hear you repeating this conversation to anyone else or I may be forced to jail you for slander."

"Of course not, Orin, you're right. I'm sorry," murmured Mary, realising that this talk was really not going her way. Although she was still seething from the way Ezra had spoken to her in the Saloon the other day, she wasn't so petty minded that she wanted to see him killed by an angry mob for pederasty. If she were being completely truthful with herself, she knew in her heart that Ezra's love of children was purely platonic. The way the children of the town flocked around the gambler, it was clear that they held no fear of him and that his simple, honest love was returned tenfold.

Wearily, Orin rubbed a hand over his face and declared, "I'm going to the Saloon to get an update from Chris. Just try to approach this matter from a logical view point, Mary. We're talking about lives here, not an editorial piece. What you say has consequences. Thank you for the luncheon. I'll speak to you again before I leave."

Bristling at the insinuation that her editorials had no effect, Mary stood and opened her mouth indignantly before slowly closing it again when her father-in-law turned his back on her and left the room. Slumping back down into her chair, she propped her elbows on the table and buried her red, hot face in her hands. It seemed that no-one agreed with her, except Maude Standish, Mr Conklin and Mrs Fletcher. Not exactly stellar company, she had to admit, even if only to herself.

Stomping into the Saloon, Orin blinked rapidly to acclimatize his eyes to the dim interior. Seeing Chris sitting at one of the back tables, he hurried over there nodding to Inez when she held up a shot glass in question.

"Judge," greeted Chris in his usual taciturn way, with a slight lift in the corner of his mouth.

"Chris," returned the Judge, settling into the seat next to his favourite peacekeeper with a groan of relief. Accepting the shot of good scotch from Inez, he asked for a plate of quesadillas as Mary's delicate sandwiches really hadn't satisfied his hunger.

"Stage got in a while back," noted Chris leadingly, after a few moments of companionable silence.

Grunting in acknowledgement, the Judge continued to glare at the door moodily for a few more moments before stating, "Mary's on the warpath."

"Ah," replied Chris, sipping his own scotch. He found himself drinking less now, since he found if he exercised some restraint, he was rewarded with the quality liquor that the gambler ordered for himself. If he came in alone and moody asking for a bottle, all he got was the usual redeye. Smirking, he realised that Ezra was behind Inez's actions. Sneaky, little Reb.

"I received a long letter from Ezra, along with telegrams from yourself, Nathan, Josiah, Mrs Wells and Mrs Potter. I think I know everything I need to know about the boy's history and how he came to be in Ezra's care from what Ezra's told me. But I'll still need to meet with the boy and speak with him. Ezra said that he'd made enquiries as to whether there were any living relatives…," questioned the old man, breaking off to accept his plate from Inez and take a cautious bite of the first steaming pancake. Humming in appreciation, he offered the plate to the gunslinger.

Taking one of the tasty morsels with a nod of thanks, Chris took his time to savour it. Inez was an exceptional cook, adding just enough spice to make it flavourful without going overboard and rendering it hot enough to burn your tongue.

Once again, conversation stalled as the two men consumed the plate of food, signalling Inez for refills of their drinks and leaning back with twin sighs of repletion at the end.

Just as the Judge was about to resume his questioning, the doors flapped open and he squinted against the sunlight to see who was entering.

Ezra and Vin had been visiting Gloria Potter and her children, enjoying a nice lunch together. Vin was a firm favourite of all the Potters and had relaxed enough with them to show his true self. All the townsfolk were enchanted by his shy smiles and glowing eyes, but few were treated to his dry wit and the odd startlingly yet beguiling grin. Ezra found himself with a very bright, loving child who was getting more and more restless to start moving around. Vin's appetite was voracious now that he was allowed to eat as much as he wanted of whatever he liked. Nathan had been horrified to learn that the boy could eat Inez's hottest chili without breaking a sweat. Ezra had just laughed and stated that his boy was showing his Texan roots, since every Texan he'd ever met had a cast iron stomach and a tongue made of basaltic rock. Vin had nearly blinded them with his proud grin at his Pa's comment and said that his Mama's chili had been hotter.

Vin was allowed to walk around inside in his stocking feet now, which delighted his independent soul. Whilst he loved his Pa and being close to him, he was a big boy and didn't like being carried around everywhere. Uncle Nathan had promised that he'd be able to walk around outside in his boots in a day or two, but he wasn't allowed to run for another week. He'd huffed out a disappointed breath at that news as Josh Potter had a new ball that they were eager to try out. Further bad news was that he wasn't allowed to ride Peso for another week. But his Pa took him to see Peso and Chaucer every day so they could brush their horses down and give them treats. Most days they then went for a short ride on Chaucer or Peso, with him riding in front of his Pa. His Pa. Didn't he just love saying those two words and knowing that he belonged to someone who loved him again.

Walking into the Saloon with his boy on his hip, Ezra scanned the room for danger as a matter of habit, holding himself so that he was angled to shield Vin with his body from anything untoward in the room. Seeing nothing but friendly faces, he smiled widely with a glint of gold and made his way to Chris' table.

Orin watched Ezra, noting the defensive position the Southerner had assumed at the door, before he turned his appraising gaze to the skinny child in overalls in the man's arms. Brilliant blue eyes returned his look with just as much frank curiosity.

Inez came over with a small wooden box in one hand and mug of milk in the other, with a small pillow tucked under her arm. The box was placed on a seat next to Chris, with the pillow on top, and the mug was placed on the table. Inez smiled brightly at the boy and announced, "There you are, papi, all ready for you. What did your Tio Nathan say about your feet?"

Ezra sat Vin on his chair, removed his son's shoes with the ease of one used to the job and moved the chair closer to the table so Vin could reach his milk.

Looking up at the bar manager with a shy smile and adoring eyes, Vin replied quietly but clearly, "Gracias, Tia Inez. Uncle Nathan says I's almost all better. I kin walk inside wit' ma socks on now, but I's still gotta be carried when I's outside fer another week. Then I's able ter walk around anywhere in ma shoes, but no runnin' or ridin' Peso fer another two weeks."

Every adult smiled at the sound of disgruntlement that the last words were spoken with, remembered when they were children and two weeks seemed like an eternity.

"Ain't complainin' though," Vin hastened to add, not wanting to sound ungrateful, "All y'all been so good ta me, carryin' me 'round 'n all. Just ain't used ta havin' so many folk doin' fer me. Ya know that Mrs Potter made chicken 'n dumplin's jist fer me today? After I's mentioned, jist tha once when I's in her store with Pa, that Mama used ta make 'em fer me?"

The wonder in Vin's voice at someone doing something as simple as making his favourite meal made most of the adults swallow hard against the lump of emotion that found its way to their throats.

"Wish I'd known there were chicken and dumplings on offer, I'd have invited myself to lunch along with you," grumbled Chris jokingly, keeping his head down so his twinkling eye weren't quickly seen.

Looking at the tall blond beside him, Vin asked in surprise, "Ya like chicken 'n dumplin's too, Uncle Chris?"

"Yup. My favourite meal of all time. My Mom used to make the best dumplings ever," replied the man, thinking fondly of the days spent surrounded by family in an Indiana kitchen.

"Na-ah, reckon my Mama made tha best dumplin's ever," refuted the child loyally, jutting his small but square chin out stubbornly and crossing his arms.

"I think we should agree that each person's mother made the best dumplings for them. After all, the thing that made them so special was the love that the food was made with," soothed Ezra, wanting to avoid an argument in front of the judge.

"Did yer Ma make ya chicken 'n dumplin's too, Pa?"

Chris choked on the sip of scotch he'd just taken and had to be thumped firmly on the back by the Judge, who was hiding his grin behind his hand. Ezra raised an eyebrow at the men's antics, even as he tried to smother his own smile at the thought of Maude Standish condescending to step one dainty foot into a kitchen let alone cook something with her lily white hands.

"No, Vin. My mother wasn't the cooking type," replied the gambler, running his hand lightly over Vin's sandy blonde curls. "Now then, I think it's time we stop being rude and introduce you to the gentleman sitting across from you. Judge, I'd like to introduce my boy, Vincent Devin Tanner, although he prefers to be called Vin. Vin, this gentleman is the Honourable Judge Orin Travis. You may call him Judge."

Blue eyes widened to saucer size and Vin's breath quickened into anxious little puffs as he came face to face with the man who held his happiness in his hands. This was the man who could take him away from his Pa. No, he told himself, Pa promised that they'd pack up and run away before he let anyone take him away. Pa had never lied to him, ever. Screwing up his courage and his faith in his father, Vin managed to extend a shaking hand and say, "Pleased ta meetcha, Judge."

Dismayed at the transformation in the formerly relaxed child, Orin reached across Chris and took the tiny hand, giving it a warm squeeze before letting it go again.

"Hello Vin. I'm pleased to meet you too. I have a grandson who's about your age," answered the Judge, smiling gently to ease the tension in the boy.

Relaxing a little when the gruff man smiled all the way into his eyes, Vin nodded and said, "Yes, sir, Pa told me 'bout Billy 'n said I's could maybe play checkers wit' him next time he's visiting his Ma."

"I'm sure Billy would love that, Vin. He's an avid checkers player and leaps at any opportunity to play," replied Orin genially, stopping to take a sip of his drink. Hoping the boy was feeling less fretful in his presence now, he asked, "Vin, would it be alright if I were to ask you a few questions?"

Leaning over towards Ezra, Vin grabbed a handful of the gambler's sleeve for courage before nodding. He felt even better when his Pa moved his chair over closer to his and put an arm around him. Wishing Barnabus was with him rather than reclining on the pillow on his bed upstairs, Vin fixed his attention on the old man opposite. The Judge was a bit scary, but his eyes looked kindly at him and his Pa had promised not to let the Judge take him to the orphanage.

Keen eyes noted how Vin turned to Ezra for comfort and was granted it instantly. Just as he was about to start his questioning, the doors opened to admit Nathan and Josiah who had looks of long suffering on their faces. The reason why burst in the doors seconds after with JD laughing uproariously and Buck protesting loudly that the joke wasn't funny. All four pulled up at the serious looks on the faces of their friends before promptly making for the table and pulling up chairs.

"What's happening, old dog?"

"Judge is just about to ask Vin some questions, Buck," replied Chris, an edge of warning in his voice that made everyone settle down quietly immediately.

Seeing that Vin was even more anxious with the delay and the increase of people, the Judge leaned over and asked, "I'd really like to talk to you on your own, Vin. Would that be alright?"

Unconsciously, Vin had started shaking his head and clutching at Ezra's hand at the thought of being alone with the Judge. He might just take him away then and there if his Pa and Uncles weren't nearby.

"Perhaps…" started Ezra hesitantly, understanding that the Judge had to talk to Vin without him to make sure that he wasn't influencing the boy. "Perhaps, if Uncle Nathan were to take you and the Judge up to our room, you could answer the Judges' questions then? You could show the Judge your new bed, desk and chest that Uncle Josiah made for you and the quilt that Mrs Potter gave you. Then the Judge could sit in the rocking chair and you and Barnabus could sit with Uncle Nathan on my bed. I'll stay right here so you know where I am. The door could be left open so you don't feel so closed in. Do you think that would be alright, son?"

Chewing his lip thoughtfully, Vin weighed up his options and with an apologetic look to Nathan, timidly asked, "Can't ya come 'n sit wit' me instead o' Uncle Nathan?"

"I think the Judge wants to hear about you without me being there so he knows that I'm not making you say things you don't want to say," offered Ezra, lifting Vin into his lap and wrapping his arms around his boy.

A red hot fury rose in Vin's chest at the thought that the Judge would ever think that his Pa, who was only kind and loving and good, would ever make him do anything he didn't want to do, especially bad things like lying. Turning to fix a fierce glare on the Judge, Vin spat hotly, "Pa wouldn't do that! Pa only makes me do things I don't wanna do iffun they's good fer me. Like eatin' greens, 'n drinkin' Uncle Nathan's skunky tea, 'n bein' nice ta Josie McWilliams after church even iffun she's always wantin' ta pat ma hair n' kiss me."

"Vin, please. The Judge is your elder and you need to show respect to your elders. It's not respectful to speak like that to someone," chided Ezra, even as he hugged the incensed boy for his loyalty. "I'm warmed by your defence, but it's truly not necessary, son. The Judge knows that I wouldn't force you to do anything and I'm sorry I worded that poorly. I just meant that he has to make sure that he follows all the rules and one of the rules is to speak to the child in an adoption without the prospective parent or parents in the room. It wouldn't be fair to follow the rules with one person and not to follow them with someone else, would it?"

Scowling at the Judge for a second more as he digested Ezra's words, Vin suddenly turned and threw his arms around his Pa's neck to hug him close, effectively shutting out the situation. Hiding his face, he cried silently, confused and frightened at the thought he'd just had that the Judge may take him away after his fit of temper.

"If you'll excuse us for just a moment, gentlemen," murmured the southerner, rising gracefully with Vin still in his arms and walking to the back of the Saloon. Standing there with Vin clinging to him, Ezra rocked the overwhelmed boy and hummed an old gospel song as he rubbed the still thin and sore back carefully. Vin's tears ran down his neck and dampened his collar, but he didn't care. All he wanted was for his little boy to feel safe and stop crying. Slowly, Vin's hold loosened as the boy slipped into an exhausted sleep.

Everyone looked up anxiously when Ezra returned with a sleeping boy in his arms, having spent the last few moments quietly observing the man and his child. The Judge was impressed with the level of caring and trust he saw being expressed between the pair.

Chris whispered, "Your boy alright?"

"I think our morning with the horses and then lunch with the Potters overtired him. I apologise to you, Judge for my part in that unpleasantness. I hope you won't take this as an indicator of how Vin usually is, as he's usually the most polite and well-manner of boys. He is still healing and gets fractious when he's tired and hurting, like all small chillun," pleaded the gambler, still rocking Vin slightly.

"It's true, Judge. What that devil that had Vin before put that boy through would've killed a growed man, let alone a scrap of a child…"

Holding a hand up to halt Nathan's earnest testimonial, the Judge looked up at Ezra and suggested, "Perhaps you should put the boy to bed, Ezra. I'll speak to him after he's had a nap. Dinner at the restaurant, perhaps?"

Nodding gratefully, Ezra agreed and took Vin upstairs. Pausing on the stairs, he called softly, "Would you like to come up and see where he'll be living, Orin?"

With surprising agility, the Judge was up out of his chair and standing behind Ezra before the others had a chance to blink.

Orin looked around the gambler's room appreciatively. The man certainly knew how to bring a little bit of luxury to the rough-hewn, dusty town. The furniture was all made of good quality wood and kept to a high polish. The big, brass bed looked incredibly inviting, warm and piled high with soft pillows and hand-sewn quilts. Looking past the adult trappings, he saw Ezra expertly removing Vin's coat whilst the boy was still in his arms and felt the sweet rush of nostalgia. How many times had he done the same thing for his own son, Stephen, and then for his grandson, Billy? It wasn't as easily done as Ezra made it look; sparking a suspicion in the old man that Ezra had previous experience in caring for a child. Making a mental note to ask the gambler late on, he returned to his keen observation.

Flipping back the bedding with one hand, whilst the other held firm to Vin, Ezra laid his son down and quickly peeled off his overalls. Leaving him in his shirt, long underwear and socks, Ezra pulled the bedding back up to Vin's chin after tucking Barnabus securely into the crook of Vin's arm. Kneeling to press a tender kiss to his son's forehead, he chuckled softly at the smile that lit Vin's face even in sleep as the boy curled up around his bear.

Gazing around at the sturdy bed, then at the trunk with Vin's toys and books, continuing on to a child-sized desk and chair which still held a chalk board with the shaky writing of a beginner scrawled over it, Orin was pleased with what he saw. There were a number of toys, but there were just as many books. Along one wall, several colourful pictures had been carefully pinned. Closer inspection showed the pictures had six stick figure adults and one stick figure child. Another had a large, black stick figure of what the just was guessing was a horse. Someone had printed the name of the stick figure clearly under each one, with Vin's childish scratch copying it above. Given how little time the child had been with the gambler, the little corner of the room was remarkable complete.

"Is that a feather topper on his mattress?"

Jumping a little, as he'd forgotten the Judge was there, Ezra stood and nodded as he moved towards the older man, whispering, "Yes. The poor boy's back is all torn up from where the animal that had him before me had used a razor strop on him. A normal straw mattress would have hurt his still healing injuries, so I had Mrs Fletcher make me a smaller version of the one she made for my bed. It also gives more warmth, since he's under the window there. I wanted to put his bed in the corner closer to my bed, but he was quite eloquent in his argument for being under the window."

"Really…?"

"Yes, it seems that another child in the orphanage told him that when one's Mama or Papa went to heaven, they were allowed to open windows to look down at their children at night. He took that to heart and has tried to be outside at least a little every night since then. Hence the reason he likes to be near the window and the stars; he wants his Mama to be able to see him clearly. I suspect it's also due to some past incident where he was locked in a dark, airless space for entirely too long. Vin doesn't care to be crowded or shut in, nor is he particularly fond of total darkness. I leave a lamp on the high dresser burning low during the period between Vin's bedtime and mine, so he won't awaken to the dark. Although Josiah has found it soothing to sit in the rocker and read during that time lately, so Vin's never truly alone. I would stay here myself, but I must support the two of us and a dollar a day is not sufficient, I'm afraid, so I must ply my trade downstairs at night. Vin revels in the outdoors and is never happier than when we go riding outside of town. I believe I shall have a job of it keeping him indoors once his feet are healed completely and he's allowed out on his own. I may have to look into buying him a pup. All little boys should have a dog, don't you think?"

Remembering his own boyhood dog, the Judge replied fondly, "I believe that every child should have a pet. Sadly, Mary disagrees and hasn't allowed Billy to have a dog. Fortunately, he now spends so much time with his Grandmother and myself that he feels as though he owns our dog."

Smiling slyly, Ezra quirked his eyebrow and observed, "I was unaware that you and Mrs Travis owned a dog, Orin."

"Well, it makes sense from a security angle to have a dog in the household when I am so often away, Ezra. Evie felt it would be company for her as well, so we recently took in a puppy from a local litter. I have to say that I am much relieved to know that there's a canine guard around my loved ones," smirked the Judge, sharing Ezra's amusement at how he'd sidestepped Mary's coddling of Billy. The boy would grow up a panty-waisted ninny if his mother had her way.

Laughing softly, Ezra reached out and shook the Judge's hand in silent congratulations at a con well done. Then he turned back to gaze at Vin.

"I thought I'd get Vin a tracking dog, like a coonhound. He's told me that when he was with his Indian family he had greatly enjoyed the lessons in tracking things. I'm sure that Chanu will continue this line of education, but it would be good if he could have a dog by his side."

Chuckling suddenly, Ezra looked at the Judge with mischievous green eyes sparkling as he confided, "When I was a child, my Uncle Eustace had a bluetick coonhound called Waverly. That dog loved me and would gently bowl me over upon my arrival, then plant one of his enormous paws on my skinny chest, holding me down as he snuffled and slobbered all over me. Mother was mortified and protested loudly about the damage to my suit and how a gentleman shouldn't be seen rolling on the ground. I loved it and would shriek with happiness, whilst my Uncle Eustace would let loose with this enormous belly laugh and tell my mother to 'loosen yer corsets, Maudie, and let the boy live a little'."

Orin chuckled at Ezra's imitation of his uncle, who was obviously a man from the deep, deep South going by the way Ezra had lowered his voice and broadened his own drawl extravagantly.

Face falling, Ezra turned back to the subject of Vin.

"From the conversations I've had with Vin, mainly in the dead of night when he's safely cuddled up to my chest, the poor child hasn't had much luck in life. He never knew his father, although his mother told him to be proud of being a Tanner and that his hair was very like his father's. She also said that his Pa had died bravely, but he doesn't remember much more. His mother died of a fever, but she never had access to medical help and Vin was forced to nurse her himself. After she died, a band of Indians who were on friendly terms with the family took him in. Then the soldiers came and, from what Vin's told me, it sounds like they annihilated the camp and murdered the people before they took him to the orphanage. The soldiers weren't very gentle with him either."

Nodding unhappily, the Judge let Ezra ramble even though he was reiterating what had been written in the letter he'd sent. Tragically, the massacre of the Indian camp wasn't an unheard of event.

Breath hitching, Ezra continued, "He was mistreated at the orphanage; denied food, had his clothes and rations stolen and was beaten for the most minor infractions. I suspect that was one of the places where he was shut away in a cupboard or cellar. Then he was farmed out to various places in the guise of being fostered, but he was really being sized up for his suitability as a farm labourer. He was just a little boy, Orin! Eventually he ended up in the clutches of man who I suspect was a pederast. Vin hasn't said it outright, but he has said that the man expected him to show suitable 'gratitude' for the meagre food and inadequate shelter he provided."

Clenching his teeth tightly, the Judge seethed with his need to avenge the poor child. Fisting his hands tightly, he hissed, "Do you have a name for this man?"

"Unfortunately no. Simply Mr Oliver. I don't if Oliver was a first or last name, or even if it was his true name. Vin told me that he was taken to the Bracknell's Orphans Home near Havertree in Texas, but that's all I know. Unable to stand Oliver's abuse any longer, Vin ran and encountered the vile Mr Wilson on the road, remaining with him as the lesser of two evils. I'm happy to report that Mr Wilson is beyond earthly justice and is currently roasting in eternal torment in hell."

"Good. Might have the Rangers nearest Havertree investigate this Orphans Home and see if Oliver is a regular. Best put a stop to it, if we can," mused the Judge, already planning out who he knew in that part of the country and who would help.

Much as Ezra wanted other children to be safe from Oliver, his main interest was in keeping his own son safe. To this end, he asked tentatively, "Do you… will you… Orin, you aren't going to take Vin away from me, are you? I know that Mary is against it."

Solemnly looking at the anxious man in front of him, Orin asked, "Ezra, I can't tell you officially until I've heard from all parties, but I have to say that what I've seen so far has impressed the hell out of me. You and the boy have a definite bond and you've provided all the basic needs of food, shelter, clothing, education and health care, as well as providing him with books and toys. You've got a secure support group in your friends, including several women of varying ages. I confess that I'm not sure that a room over a saloon is the best place to live, but it's a hell of a lot safer than where he has been living."

"I'd like for Vin to have a room of his own, in a cabin in the mountains so that he could run around all day without fear of being run down by wagons or shoved by people. But I'm a gambler and a conman; I have no other skills. I confess that I only run cons now in the course of my peacekeeping duties, but I still need to gamble to supplement our income which means I have to be in town. Once Vin has settled and he's more comfortable with being away from me, I had thought to leave him with Miss Nettie now and again, so he can have the run of her small ranch. During those times, I can go further afield to big poker tournaments in search of bigger wins. I will be able to reduce the amount of hours I spend at the table in this town then, so that I may spend that time with Vin instead. Being at Miss Nettie's should give him some respite from town living and allow him to find his balance again, since the child really is more in his element in the wilds. I've seen and felt how relaxed he becomes when we go for our horse rides, leaving the town behind us. Chris has offered the use of his sh… cabin as well, although there are far fewer home comforts there and no homemade pie as there would be at Miss Nettie's. Vin and I seem to share a weakness for baked goods."

Reaching out to grip Ezra's surprisingly muscular upper arm, Orin squeezed it to get the Southerner's attention and said, "You'll do fine, son. I've met many a very good man who was raised in a saloon, or the back of a wagon, or a tent. It's not where you're raised; it's who does the raising that counts. For my money, I reckon you're going to do a damn fine job."

Eyes misting and lips curling slightly upwards, Ezra patted the hand on his arm gratefully.

"As to that coonhound, well, I happen to know of a man who breeds them further on in my circuit. I'll give you the name and you can send him a telegram to see when his next litter is due for rehoming," offered Orin, removing his hand and getting things back on a more level field."

Swallowing hard, Ezra grinned and said, "That's okay, Orin. Uncle Eustace is still breeding his hounds and there's already one on the way via the rail. I'm hoping it will arrive in the next couple of weeks. Vin's injuries should be all healed by then, so he and the pup can run each other ragged each day."

Grinning at each other, the men failed to notice the gleaming blue eyes of one very excited little boy in the bed behind them. Vin had woken from his nap around the time that Ezra had been talking about wishing he could raise Vin out in the mountains. Frankly, Vin didn't care where they lived, so long as he was with his Pa. He hadn't been too thrilled with the idea of being left at Miz Nettie's alone, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it. Squeezing his bear joyfully, Vin screwed up his legs in excitement and starting thinking of all the fun he was going to have.