Set after No Good Deed Goes Unpunished. Standard disclaimers: Don't own, don't profit, don't sue. No slash. Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to post reviews on this series of stories. I do so enjoy the warm fuzziness of a fellow fan of the boys made happy.

"Yer sure ya should be outta bed, Ez?"

"As sure as you're standing next to me, my young friend. I feel perfectly alright and need to go to Mrs Potter's to thank the darlin' lady for her kind attentions during my recent infirmity," soothed Ezra, smiling fondly at the tracker whose mission in life it now seemed was to dog his every step. Knowing that it was only out of concern and the remnants of fear, Ezra tolerated it benignly. Besides, it wasn't like Vin was the only one who had been keeping a close eye on him, he reflected ruefully, feeling the burning gazes of both Chris and Buck who were sitting on the porch of the jail.

"Well, okay, but if ya start to feeling poorly again, ya just let me know," conceded Vin, smiling shyly back at his brother, glad that the man was feeling and looking so much better. Seeing him lying as though dead, draped over the front of Buck Wilmington and his horse two days ago, had frightened the tar out of him. Then to see Ezra so limp and unresponsive for days afterward, unable to stomach more than a few sips of water, hissing at any light and cowering away from loud noises, had left the Texan feeling powerfully protective. Putting a hand to Ezra's elbow, he murmured, "Careful on the steps now."

Valiantly restraining his laughter at the Texan's over-the-top mothering, Ezra once again reminded himself that the man meant well and accepted his assistance graciously. Aware that the younger man had lost everyone who'd ever been kind to him in his short life, the gambler also knew that the tracker now clung to his new family and was terrified of losing any of them.

During his recent illness, unable to sleep or converse due to the pain, Ezra had thought often about the strangely diverse family that Vin had gathered around him. Nettie seemed to fill Vin's need for both mother and grandmother and Casey was a little sister. Gloria Potter was viewed as a kindly aunt, thanks mainly to her adoption of a certain southern brother. Josiah was a much older brother or younger uncle of sorts; there to supply wisdom and a voice of experience. Chris was the older brother left in charge after a father's death, serious and protective; someone who made the young Texan feel safe in a life full of danger. Nathan was an older brother too, although slightly distant emotionally. Buck was the fun older brother who snuck you your first alcoholic drink or took you to your first peep show, capable of protection but more interested in loosening up his three younger brothers. JD was, of course, the younger brother needing protection but also someone to have fun with and educate.

The gambler had ruefully decided that his role in Vin's life was somewhat changeable. He nurtured, spoiled and comforted the slightly younger man like a big sister would – a thought that had made him snort painfully with laughter at the time it occurred, causing Nathan to fuss over him for a good fifteen minutes. He was often a source of protection and safety, but on more of an emotional level than physical as Chris was their protector physically. Yet the gambler was also quite capable of getting the younger man into a fix, since trouble seemed to follow them both like the scent of perfume follows a New Orleans courtesan. Then there were times when he almost felt like Vin's younger sibling, when the Texan was taking the time to teach him some tracking skills, guiding him in the ways of friendship, or relating some Indian lore.

As important as the Texan's self adopted family were to him, Ezra had concluded with fondness and pride that he and Chris were the most important and beloved of them. It was a humbling thought to a man who had given up all hope of familial love in this lifetime and he knew that Chris felt the same. Sadness filled him at seeing how witnessing his beloved big brother as weak and lifeless as his 'episodes' made him had left Vin shaken and reawakened his fear of losing loved ones. But his heart was filled with pride at how well Vin had conquered that fear and put it to one side in order to care for him.

The first night at the clinic, Vin had stayed with him on the bed acting as his pillow. This act had vaguely puzzled the southerner until he remembered whimpering when Vin had moved to relieve himself at some point. It hadn't been long before his friend had returned to pillow duty. Being elevated had always helped his headaches and he found that being rested against the warmth of Vin's chest was even more helpful. Listening to the steady rhythm of his brother's heart reminded him that he no longer had to suffer alone, a fact for which he was profoundly grateful. Given his pain levels and the potions Nathan poured down him, he couldn't be certain, but he thought that Chris and Buck had been holding him too. Probably to give the tracker a chance to stretch his fractious back. Ezra had drawn comfort from his brothers' familiar presence and warmth and had weakly cuddled closer each time he'd awoken in someone's arms.

The rumble of Josiah's voice invaded his memories too, something he'd always found soothing. Nathan's large, warm hands on his forehead and deep voice assuring him that he'd feel better soon helped. Even JD had restrained his usual ebullience in order to sit quietly by his side, lightly stroking the back of his hand. Vin had helped tremendously by remembering how his Indian mother had massaged his hands and head when he'd had a headache once. Without conscious thought, he'd started to do the same thing as he held Ezra and had eased the pain considerably.

After Ezra had been released from Nathan's clinic and returned to his natural environment, he'd felt an extraordinary need to reward his brothers for their exemplary care. JD and Josiah would have to wait until they were back in town and feeling better respectively, but the main four caretakers had been there with him. Motioning to Inez, he'd whispered some Spanish in her ear too softly for the others to hear. Nathan and Chris' Spanish was basic, but Josiah and Vin were both fairly fluent, understanding most words even if they didn't use them. Inez and Raphael soon brought out four plates, heaped high with good food, surprising the men who were just thinking of ordering a meal. There was also a fifth much smaller plate with some scrambled eggs and toast for Ezra, whose stomach still wasn't up to a big meal. After a rousing chorus of gratitude, silence had reigned as the meal was consumed with relish. Afterwards, a bottle of Ezra's best Kentucky sipping bourbon was brought over to be shared out, although the gambler limited himself to the one glass. Toasting to brotherhood, he then made his apologies and retired for the night, leaving the other four to finish the bottle amongst themselves.

Secure in the knowledge that his ailing brother was probably enjoying a bath before climbing into his comfortable bed, Vin settled in to enjoy a night of friendly bantering with the others. Well, Buck was the main source of conversation with the occasional dry comment from Chris, barbed retort from Nathan or a witty aside from Vin just to keep things going. Smirking, the sharpshooter sipped at his whiskey and enjoyed its smooth, warm journey down to his contentedly full stomach, where it settled well. He'd always assumed all whiskey tasted the same until he'd met Ezra, who'd introduced him to the wonders of perfectly aged Scotch whiskey, Kentucky bourbon and brandy. Thanks to the suave southerner, Vin now knew that some things were worth the extra cost.

All too soon Buck had wandered off in search of female company, Nathan had retired to bed as he had to head out early to check on Mr Feinster, who'd broken his thigh in an altercation with his old and recalcitrant mule, Floss, and Chris left to take over patrol from Josiah. Finding himself alone, Vin wandered out to the privy before bounding up the external stairs to check on Ezra.

Entering the room stealthily, he'd found the gambler asleep, curled in a ball under the warm covers in the middle of the bed. Frowning at first, he'd wondered how he was going to fit in the bed and if this was Ezra's way of saying that he'd rather sleep alone. But then he'd noted that a lamp had been left burning low. Vin smirked at the implied invitation and turned to lock the door before hurriedly stripping down to his skivvies and turning out the lamp. Hopping on cold feet across the bare floorboards, he'd hastily slid into the warm bed and sighed happily. Noticing that Ezra had unfurled and moved over to give him more room, he'd burrowed under the quilts and whispered loudly to his bedmate, asking if he felt better. Judging that the grunt he'd gotten in reply was an affirmative, he'd promptly slid his cold hands and feet between Ezra and the bed. It had been worth the bony elbow in the ribs to hear the sophisticated man yelp like a trod on dog and arch off the bed. He'd been tickled in retaliation, causing them both to giggle like five-year olds, before they'd each settled down to a peaceful night's sleep.

Walking into the store, Ezra was immediately accosted by Gloria Potter in all her motherly glory. Submitting to having his forehead felt for fever and his cheek patted, he smiled at the kind woman and tried not to smirk at being thought of as a child by a woman nowhere near old enough to be his mother. He'd long ago realised that women either shunned him because of his occupation, or nurtured him for his large green eyes and dimples. Despite being a capable and dangerous man, he seemed to exude an air of vulnerability that many women couldn't resist. Another trait that he shared with his Texan brother, although Vin's waif appeal far outweighed his own, as evidenced by his adoption by the wizened old crone. Nettie Wells now viewed the gambler with a far more favourable eye, but she hadn't adopted him as she had Vin. Fortunately, neither he nor Vin seemed to inspire many of the fairer sex to regard them as prey, the way Buck did. No woman he'd ever met could hold a candle to his Emmaline, so he would remain faithful to her and maintain his solitude, waiting to be met by his beloved and their sweet children in the next life. He had his six brothers for companionship now and that was more than enough, certainly more family than he thought he'd have again.

"I came to thank you for the delicious broth that you sent along in my convalescence, Mrs Potter," drawled Ezra, graciously withdrawing himself from her petting by capturing her hand and placing a genteel kiss on the back of it. Distracted by movement, he turned to Vin and saw that something had attracted the man's undivided attention, causing him to rummage in his pockets. Knowing that the tracker had no money until they were paid the next day, he looked to confirm his suspicions of what had the Texan practically salivating. Spying a freshly baked pie on the counter, he glided towards it and asked, "I don't suppose I could get a slice of this for my friend now, could I, Mrs Potter? You can see for yourself that the poor man is simply fading away for want of some of your delicious confectionaries. Whilst we're at it, I'll take my usual amount of peppermints and some of the aniseed…"

Pausing when Vin gave a subtle tug on his sleeve, he listened to the whispered request before continuing, "Apologies, Mrs Potter. Make that some of the lemon candy sticks."

Smiling gently at the way the younger man was acting just like her own boy did with his older sister, Gloria set about cutting two generous portions of the pie. Putting them onto slices of brown paper, she handing one to the eager tracker and then offered the second to Ezra. Blushing faintly at the gambler's dimpled smile and the tracker's shy but bright grin, she then started gathering the requested candy.

"Thanks, Ez," murmured Vin, his mouth full of his unexpected treat. The smell of the fresh pie had been tormenting him and he didn't have any money to buy some. He could have put it on his account but, given the uncertainty of living a life on the run, he didn't like to be in debt with any of the store holders. If he suddenly had to skip town, he didn't want to leave nice folk like Mrs Potter in the lurch. He should have known that Ezra would see what he wanted and set about getting it for him. Noticing that the southerner was neatly folding the brown paper around his own slice, he swallowed and asked hopefully, "Ain'tcha gonna eat yers?"

"I shall enjoy it more with a cup of coffee, so thought I'd save it to savor at the Saloon," replied the southerner, carefully putting the twist of peppermints in his pocket before slipping the bag of candy sticks into the tracker's capacious pocket.

Looking at what remained of his own pie, Vin contemplated saving it to have with his coffee before shrugging and shoving another large mouthful in. He knew that if he flashed his pleading look at Ezra then the older man would cave in and share his slice. The gambler's love of good pie rivalled his own, but the man had the eating habits of a bird. Handy for Vin, since he seemed to be a bottomless pit and always had room for Ezra's leftovers, much to the amusement of the others.

Paying for the candy and pie, Ezra turned to the exit with a cheery farewell and walked out into the wintry sunshine, his human shadow now trailing crumbs.

"DAMN IT! I SAID NO AND I MEANT NO!"

Exchanging a startled look, Ezra and Vin changed course towards the familiar bellow and headed towards the livery with all speed. Leaping up the stairs two and three at a time, they burst into the clinic to find Nathan trying to hold Josiah on the bed. The giant ex-preacher was red in the face and producing a hideous wet cough, but continued to struggle valiantly.

Worry coursing through him for the rough treatment of the man he secretly wished had fathered him, Ezra exclaimed, "What in the name of all the saints is going on in here?"

Nathan turned and quickly assessed the open-mouthed men at the door before barking, "Git in here and help me. The old fool has lung fever and won't stay in bed."

Snapping out of his startlement, Ezra moved forward and put his hands on either side of Josiah's face, feeling the heat emanating from him, he started to croon, "There now, Josiah. Calm down. You're not doing yourself any good with all this fuss. Just calm down and get your breath and we'll discuss things like civilised men."

Blue eyes fastened on green and held. Josiah panted, wheezed and coughed, but he stopped struggling. Concentrating on the fact that Ezra was there so Vin had to be too, given the tracker's behaviour of the past week, Josiah focused on the cool, slender hands holding his hot head. Closing his eyes, he felt the gambler's thumbs gently smooth away tears and sweat from under his eyes and relaxed a little. Vin would know how important it was that he left, even if Nathan didn't.

Releasing his tight hold on the ex-preacher cautiously, Nathan sat back and watched with some amazement as the squirrelly southerner soothed the savage beast. Deeming it safe to leave his patient, the healer stood and strode over to his stove to retrieve the tea he'd brewed for Josiah. If anyone could get it into his stubborn friend, it was the equally stubborn gambler.

Vin had moved inside and closed the door, easing himself into a chair on the other side of the bed to where Ezra was perched. Tentatively picking up one of Josiah's hands, he unfurled the fingers from their clenched fist and laid his palm to the much larger palm, letting the fingers lie straight along his wrist. Stroking the back of Josiah's hand, he watched anxiously as Ezra continued to placate the agitated man.

Cracking open his eyes when he felt his hand being picked up, Josiah recognised Vin and croaked brokenly, "It's Christmas soon, Vin. She's expecting me. I've got to go. Don't you see?"

Understanding dawned for Vin and he cast a furtive glance towards the other men in the room before leaning forward and whispering, "Yer too sick ta sit a saddle, 'Siah. Even if Nate let ya up, yer'd fall down the stairs or pass out in the street. No way yer getting far wi' lung fever. She'll understand. I'll wire the… I'll wire 'em to let 'em know that yer sick and can't come."

Starting to shake his head fretfully as his hope that Vin would stand up for him died, Josiah clenched his hand around Vin's hand and growled, "No! I always visit the weekend before Christmas. It's important. I have to take the supplies. She relies on it… they all do… and I can't let her down. Not again. Not again."

Curiosity flamed hot and fast in the gambler and he quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at his friends, but they were focused on the man in the bed not him so his questions went unanswered. Who was the woman who Josiah was so desperate to see, he wondered. He'd been unaware of any paramour. Perhaps it was someone out at the Seminole Village, since 'they' were relying on the supplies. But then why couldn't Nathan take them? It was all very puzzling.

Nathan stood behind him, blowing gently on the hot tea to cool it enough for Josiah to drink without scalding himself. He knew of whom they spoke and understanding calmed his temper at being abused by his old friend. Time had passed so quickly these past few months, that he'd forgotten the time of year. Putting the mug on the table, Nathan said in an even voice, "Vin's right, Josiah. Y'all are just too sick to be travelling now. Let Vin send a telegram to the sisters."

Starting to struggle feebly, the older man tried to push Ezra and Vin away as he gasped, "No, have to go, can't let her down again…"

"Josiah. Josiah! Listen to me," called Ezra, patted one white stubbled cheek gently, "I don't know who you have to visit, but I'm telling you that you simply are not well enough to go. Surely this person wouldn't be happy if you were to kill yourself trying to get to them."

"But I have to," whispered Josiah, tears welling in eyes that showed so much pain and torment that looking at them forced Ezra to inhale sharply as his heart clenched in sympathy. "Don't you see, son? I gave my word… can't disappoint her… not again."

"Well," murmured Ezra, desperately trying to find a way to convince the big man of his need for rest. "The weekend is still a long way off, so why don't you stay here tucked up in a warm bed and allow Nathan to minister to you for tonight. You may feel better in the morning, in which case you can set off unhindered by illness. What do you say, 'Siah? Just one night to ease the minds of your friends? To ease my mind? Please?"

Closing his eyes against the pleading emerald eyes of the man his heart had claimed as a son, Josiah sagged back against the soft pillows. Truthfully, he didn't think that he could make it to the door, let alone all the way to Vista City. Grudgingly, he growled, "One night, Ezra."

"Yes, yes, just one night," agreed Ezra, his triumphant smile gleaming in the dimly lit room. Motioning to Vin to move and sit Josiah up, the gambler picked up the cooling cup of tea and a cloth from the table beside the bed and started feeding it to Josiah. Whenever the ex-preacher tried to pull away, Ezra would tenderly wipe his mouth and allow him a few moments before putting the mug to his lips again. Within moments, the tea was consumed and Josiah was snoring.

"Lord, I thought he'd never see reason," exclaimed Nathan, taking the empty cup and towel off Ezra and giving him a congratulatory pat. As he turned away, he continued, "But y'all know he ain't gonna be in any shape to travel tomorrow either. You've just put the fight off for a day is all and we're gonna have to do this whole thing again in the morning."

Standing up from where he'd been running his hand over Josiah's hair to soothe him into a deeper sleep, Ezra turned so he could face both Nathan and Vin and demanded, "What whole thing? Who is he so desperate to visit?"

Exchanging a look with Nathan, Vin ignored the subtle shake of the head the healer gave him blurted, "His sister."

Smacking his palm to his forehead, Ezra turned back to look at the sleeping ex-preacher and muttered, "Of course. Hannah. I should have realised. Well, you and I will have to go and see the sisters, Vin. We can take the supplies and when Josiah wakes up in the morning, we'll let him write out a letter to his sister. If he's too ill to write, then I'll take the message down for him. I've been meaning to visit for a long time, but we just never seemed to have a spare moment lately."

Mouths falling open in shock, Nathan and Vin stared at Ezra as though he'd suddenly sprouted a buffalo on his shoulder.

Turning away from his contemplation of the sleeping invalid, Ezra frowned at the looks he was receiving. Unable to think of a reason for them, he asked querulously, "Why are you both standing there looking at me like gormless idiots?"

"I thought Vin and I were the only two who knew 'bout Hannah," replied Nathan, wondering how Ezra had acquired the knowledge.

Unsure whether to be insulted by their inability – especially Vin's - to believe that someone may actually confide in him, the gambler huffed, stood up and started to smooth down his sleeves.

Recognising the signs that he'd hurt his brother's feelings, Vin hurried over and clutched Ezra's forearm, saying earnestly, "Not that's there's any reason fer ya not ta know, Ez. It's jist a surprise, given how close-mouthed 'Siah is 'bout Hannah. Hell, I only know 'cos I went to Vista City during that whole Pinkerton thing and stumbled on her. I promised not to say nothin' and 'Siah seemed real relieved that I did."

Seeing what Vin was doing, Nathan hurried to make his own amends. "Josiah and me have been friends for a whole lotta years now. I've seen him delirious with fevers, tormented by his demons and drunk as a skunk. He ain't talked 'bout Hanna a lot, but he's told me some and I learned a lot more from his ramblin's. Asked me 'bout any herbs or such that might help her when he was sober…"

Pausing as an idea struck him, Nathan looked at Ezra thoughtfully and asked, "Did Josiah ask you if you knew anything that could help his sister?"

Deciding not to take offense in the face of Vin's obvious distress, Ezra patted the tracker's hand and then raised his hand to rub the thumb over his lower lip. Facing Nathan, he replied, "No. He's never asked me about treatments. I happened upon him in the Saloon one night about four months ago after he'd been drinking. Unusually, it had merely rendered him melancholic, rather than … aggressive. It was closing time, so I shut the doors and sat with him through the night. Sometimes he was silent. Other times he seemed to wish to reminisce about his childhood, then about his days as a young man. During the course of that night, I learned his life history and it cemented my admiration and respect for him."

Nodding, Nathan murmured, "Man's faced a lot o' grief in his life and still manages to keep an open heart. Takes a lot o' strength not to turn bitter."

Vin, who had been gazing fixedly at Ezra since Nathan's question, suddenly piped up with, "So do ya?"

Perplexed, Ezra frowned at the tracker's intensity and stammered, "D-do I what, Vin?"

Huffing impatiently, Vin drawled, "Do ya know anything that could help Hannah?"

Understanding lit the gambler's face as he went to sit on the edge of Josiah's bed. Absent-mindedly picking up one of the big hands, he held it in both of his as he pondered his response. Slowly, he said, "From what Josiah has told me and what I have found out through certain subtle queries of my own to people who knew the family at the time, it sounds like the poor girl had a breakdown, both emotionally and mentally. Her father was an oppressive man, who tried to inhibit every facet of Hannah's life. Josiah told me that when they were children, Hannah was a beautiful soul – always laughing and smiling. She loved to talk to people, loved to draw and sing, loved dancing barefoot in meadows and chasing the butterflies. A normal, happy little girl."

A sad smile ghosted over Ezra's face as he paused, watching Vin as he lowered himself to the floor at the gambler's feet. Releasing Josiah's hand with one of his, he used the free hand to sweep the hair out of Vin's eyes, earning himself a shy smile from the tracker. Hearing the scrape of the chair, he glanced over to see Nathan pulling the straight-backed chair up close and seating himself. Heaving in a breath, the southerner continued relating what he'd learned.

"A woman who used to live next door to Carlos and Hannah, Mrs Crosshatch, replied to my letter of enquiry and told me what really happened, as opposed to what Josiah heard from his father. When Hannah grew older and she began to blossom into adulthood, she became drawn to boys and wanted to go to dances as all young girls do… but her father didn't want her to interact with anyone, fearing that she would stray from the path of purity. He became possessive and even more strict in his discipline of her, both verbal and physical, forbidding her from seeing even her female friends. Banned from singing, dancing, reading anything but the bible, or even drawing, I believe that the creative side of Hannah's soul starved and withered. Forced to perform all the cooking, cleaning and sewing for herself and her father, she rebelled with voice and deed. Afterall, Josiah left so why shouldn't she? She did try to run off twice with a boy from her father's congregation, who she believed she'd fallen in love with, but they were caught and she was dragged back both times. The second time, Carlos beat the boy so badly that he never returned again."

"Lord, poor child," muttered Nathan, drawn in by the tale that he southerner was relating. He could see the desperation in Hannah's actions. Hell, he'd felt that desperation prior to his running from the Jackson plantation.

Vin had no words, but felt the plight of Hannah Sanchez deep in his soul. Shuffling forward, he laid his head on Ezra's thigh and sighed sadly as he felt the reassurance of a kind touch as the gambler started carding his fingers through the tracker's tangled curls. A lone tear slid down his cheek as he thought of how lonely and frightened Hannah must have been. Many times in his own life, he'd been denied the right to express himself and it rankled when he heard of it happening to others.

Nodding agreement to Nathan's remark, Ezra looked down in concern at the sensitive Texan when a shaggy head was placed in his lap. Knowing how much Vin hated to hear of the deprivation of liberty in others, he tried to comfort the younger man with his touch. Hurrying to finish the woeful account, he cleared his throat of the lump of emotion that had lodged there and continued, "Hannah did begin drinking, but I believe it was to dull the pain of the beatings he gave her rather than any sort of bad behaviour. Sadly, as often happens, those who turn to alcohol as a relief from emotional and/or physical pain lose control of their drinking and it begins to control them. Hannah would not have had access to much money, so the quality of the liquor she began to crave would have been very poor. A combination of the drinking, the beatings, the constant belittlement and vitriolic diatribes from her father, the heartache of love lost and the deprivation of liberty was enough to break the poor girl's spirit. Sister Ignatius from the convent in Vista City tells me that Hannah is quiet and withdrawn most of the time, but becomes agitated when in contact with any men. This tallies with the fact that she would feel betrayed by her brother, her father and her unfortunate beau."

Pausing to hold his hand up when Nathan and Vin started to interrupt to defend Josiah, the southerner shook his head and continued, "Do not misunderstand me, gentlemen. I, in no way, blame Josiah for any of this appalling state of affairs. I'm merely stating how I believe Hannah feels. She now associates men with anguish and fear. Being where she is, she will never overcome that association as she is never in contact with any men, other than the infrequent visits from Josiah."

A rumbling voice from the pillows mumbled, "So there's no hope?"

Spinning his head around in startlement, then lunging to steady Vin as the younger man fell when the leg he was leaning against was abruptly moved, Ezra hissed, "How long have you been listening?"

Starting to cough helplessly, Josiah allowed the deceptively strong gambler to haul him upright, leaning against his heart son as he tried to catch his breath. Grabbing a handful of Ezra's jacket, he fought weakly to stay huddled against the smaller man when the gambler attempted to lower him back onto the repositioned pillows.

Recognising his friend's need for human contact, Ezra simply put his arms around Josiah and held him, rocking slightly and stroking his hand over the sweat-damp, curly grey hair. Once the big man's coughing stopped and his breathing eased, the gambler shifted his hold so that he could hold a mug of tepid tea to his friend's lips. Patiently, he fed the tea little by little until it was gone and then wiped Josiah's face with the cool, damp cloth that Nathan provided.

"Been listening awhile, son, and I think you've got the right of the problem. But," pausing to drag in a gulp of air and coughing slightly, Josiah leaned his head against the gambler's shoulder again and continued hoarsely, "What can I do to help Hannah. I thought the convent was the best thing for her."

Leaning his cheek on Josiah's head, Ezra said thoughtfully, "Hannah needs to be shown that some men can be trusted not to hurt her. I don't think that she'll ever be the same carefree spirit that she once was, Josiah. I don't want to build false hopes. But I think… THINK, mind you… that we may be able to bring her some modicum of peace. Perhaps some for yourself as well."

"How?"

Slightly startled at three voices asking the same question, Ezra chuckled. Leaning Josiah back onto the pillows, he took the man's hand again and said, "The same method that Buck is using to wear down Inez' resistence to his animal magnetism. Perseverance and familiarity."

Seeing the blank look, the gambler pursed his lips and tried again, "It would be best if we spoke to Sister Ignatius first, but I think that it would be conducive if we were to get the good sisters to give Hannah some of Nathan's calming tea about a half hour before a visit. Then in a room that is not Hannah's, or perhaps the garden if it is a nice day, we send Vin to meet her."

"Me? Why me?"

Grinning at the squeak of fear in Vin's voice, Ezra replied, "Because you have a way with women, my friend. You ooze vulnerability and they just want to take you to their bosom. One look at your scruffy, soulful self and Hannah will be falling over herself to mother you."

Shoving the gambler's shoulder, Vin groused, "I ain't the only one. Seems ta me you've got yer fair share of womenfolk looking ta hold ya ter their bosoms. Why can't y'all be the one ter meet Hannah? Yer the one whose idea it is."

"Yes, but she's already seen you once, so you will be more familiar…"

"I's only there a minute and the poor woman was cryin' the whole time…"

"Nevertheless…"

"Boys, please…" begged Josiah, his head pounded and his chest felt heavy.

"Sorry, 'Siah," chorused both Ezra and Vin shame faced, prompting them to look at each other with bemusement and to make Nathan chuckle.

"What am I thinking? You should be resting, Josiah. Vin and I will work something out between us and come up tomorrow morning to visit and let you know, alright? For now, you just concentrate on getting yourself better," crooned the southerner, rubbing gentle circles on the broad chest of his friend.

Feeling more hopeful about his sister's circumstances than he had in many years, Josiah closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer that his son and friend would succeed where he and the nuns had failed. Concentrating on the soothing feeling of the hand on his chest, Josiah coughed a little and then slid in to sleep with a stentorian snore.