August 1st

Chris groaned as the sunlight filled the window overhead. Turning over on his side he turned his face into the threadbare pillow to block out an offensive light. What kind of fool would build a jail with their windows facing east he wondered. What kind of fool needs to worry about where the windows in a jail are located, a voice in his head replied. Chris growled; he hadn't given the voice of reason permission to speak, and he wasn't in the mood to hear from it right now.

"You awake?" Buck asked, his voice coming from the direction of the cot directly opposite Chris'.

"No," he snapped in no mood to be sociable either.

Now that he was awake, Chris was becoming acutely aware of the various aches and pains on his body, and it did nothing to improve his mood. There was absolutely no good reason for him to be waking up in jail feeling like he'd been dragged behind a horse. He didn't even have a hangover. Once again Chris couldn't help but think it was unjust to feel this bad when there wasn't a hangover involved. He wished it were possible to burrow deeper into the cot, but jails weren't generally known for their comfortable accommodations and the cot he now lay on was no exception.

"Sound awake to me."

"Shut up, Buck."

"Good morning to you too, sunshine." There was just enough mirth in Buck's voice to set Chris' already frayed nerves on edge. There was no call for Buck to be this happy. None.

"Buck," he ground out in warning.

"Fine. Lay over there and sulk."

"I'm not sulking," Chris mumbled.

"Yeah, you are." Chris rolled over on his back and shot Buck a look that did nothing but make Buck's grin grow. "Morning."

Chris sighed. "You weren't who I was supposed to wake up next to today."

"You weren't exactly my first pick either, Stud."

"And you look terrible."

Buck gingerly rubbed his left cheek, now colored in brilliant shades of red and yellow. "You should find a mirror."

"I think I'd rather not," Chris commented. He could feel the bruises along his jaw and eye as well as several other places on his body.

Buck nodded toward the door that separated the cells from the sheriff's office. "Someone's out there."

"Bout time," Chris grumbled as he stiffly got to his feet and limped over to Buck. He should probably be grateful he wasn't more beat up than he was, but it was hard to look on the bright side stuck in a cell.

As it turned out, two against three hadn't been as even a matchup as Chris had first thought. He and Buck had held their own a good while, but eventually, the tide had started to turn in favor of the three. If Susanne hadn't darted off as soon as the third man let her go and found a deputy, Chris was sure the fight wouldn't have ended until he and Buck were both bloody pulps. He was thankful for the girl's interference, but the deputy Susanne brought back frowned upon fighting in a public alley, even in self-defense. He insisted they all be held until everything could be sorted out. Chris had been more than vocal on his feelings concerning that matter, and the few choice names he'd given the deputy hadn't done much to endear him to the man. So here he was, waking up in jail for the second time in a month, no Susanne and no hangover, just Buck, the snores of three other men, and too much sunlight.

Once he was on the other side of the cell, Chris could hear the voices Buck had mentioned although no clear words could be made out. "Maybe we'll be out of here soon."

"Let's hope the sheriff is more understanding than his deputy."

Chris grunted in reply and hoped there would be no more interaction with the young man. He didn't mind spending the night in a cell when he deserved it, but sleeping on a hard cot just because some upstart deputy had refused to listen to reason soured his mood. He, Buck, and Susanne had all tried to explain things to the deputy when he'd brought them in, but no matter what they said the boy staunchly maintained that any decisions about who was released would have to be made by the sheriff himself. When he'd been informed, in a rather condensing tone, that he and Buck would just have to wait for the Sheriff to come back in the morning, it had taken every ounce of self-control Chris possessed not to deck the boy one good time. Another encounter with the deputy might just end with Chris spending an earned night in jail.

"What do you think . . . ." Buck was cut off when the door to the office opened and a man of about forty-five, rail-thin with a handlebar mustache, entered the room. He stopped in front of their cell and crossed his arms, letting his eyes go between the two cells before his gaze finally settled on them.

"Larabee and Wilmington," he said.

Neither Chris nor Buck could tell if it had been a question or a statement, so Chris merely nodded curtly and Buck offered an "I'm Wilmington."

The man who Chris presumed to be the sheriff smiled and took out a set of keys. "Come on out, boys," he said opening the cell. "And congratulations. You both look to be in decent shape given that you tangled with those three a few hours ago."

"Does this happen a lot?" Buck asked.

"No, but it's happened before. The last man Lincoln jumped spent the night with Doc, and he wasn't walking around the next morning. You ought to be grateful you had a friend, Larabee."

Without another word, the sheriff went back into his office and Buck and Chris grabbed their hats and followed him. Chris couldn't help but notice Buck wasn't moving with much more ease than he was.

By the time they'd hobbled into the office, the sheriff had taken out their gun belts and passed them over. "I am sorry about the inconvenience," he said. "But don't think too badly of Clark. He's a good boy, and he's got the makings of a great lawman, but he's still a little green and more than a little conscientious."

"It's fine," Buck said. "We've spent the night in worse."

Chris wasn't going to say anything until he felt Buck nudge his leg with the tip of his boot. "Yeah, no harm done," Chris mumbled.

"I'm glad you feel that way. Were you boys planning on heading out soon?" the sheriff asked.

Chris had been putting on his gun belt but looked up sharply at the question. "You askin' us to leave?" He was getting tired of getting thrown out of towns because he kept running into the resident crazy folk.

The sheriff shook his head. "No, but based on what Clark and the girl told me, I won't be able to hold those three in there for more than a day or two. And I don't think either one of you is in any shape to take another run in with them."

Chris looked over at Buck and found the younger man already eyeing him. The sheriff made a good point. Chris doubted he was . . . whatever his name was favorite person right now. It probably would be wise to make tracks before he was released from jail. That meant he was unlikely to get another chance with Susanne, but that seemed to be the way his luck ran now. He finally nodded. "Understood, sheriff. Thanks for the warning."

Chris stepped out onto the boardwalk, blinking at the early morning sunlight. Feeling a dull throb start to develop behind his eyes, he pulled the brim of his hat down lower and sighed.

"I guess that answers the question of what we do next," Buck said also readjusting his hat.

"You mean packing up and moving out. Again." Getting thrown out of town was getting thrown out of town, even when it was done politely.

"That's a shame too. Didn't hardly get any time with Malinda at all."

Chris grunted in agreement, assuming Malinda was one of the girls from last night; he felt the same way about Susanne.

The two slowly made their way back to the hotel. They were both sore, but the more they walked, the easier it got. Just before they reached their destination, a familiar figure appeared blocking their way. Chris stopped suddenly. She wasn't dressed as provocatively as she'd been last time he'd seen her, but the smile was unmistakable.

"I see it didn't take long for the sheriff to see reason," she said.

"Not long at all," Chris replied returning her smile. "You have anything to do with that?"

Susanne shrugged. "Maybe."

The two held each other's gaze until Buck broke in. "Seein' as how we haven't been formally introduced, I'm Buck Wilmington, ma'am."

Last night when they'd been trying to reason with a, in Chris' opinion, still wet behind the ears deputy, no one had been too concerned about who knew whom.

Susanne started at his comment almost as though she hadn't even realized Buck was around and both her and Chris turned to look at Buck. "Nice to meet you, Buck. Formally." She gave him a smile too, but unless Chris was imagining things, it wasn't quite as bright as the ones she gave him, despite the apparent admiration in Buck's eyes. Susanne's attention quickly shifted back to Chris, and it was then Chris knew he definitely wasn't imagining things.

"Why don't you get outta here, Buck," Chris said feeling a sense of satisfaction that it was he, not Buck, who was commanding Susanne's attention.

The glare Buck gave him, a mixture of jealousy and admiration, told Chris his friend had noticed the change in Susanne as well. "Don't forget what we talked about," Buck said with a huff before continuing on to the hotel.

They both watched Buck disappear inside and then Susanne looked at Chris. "I hope I didn't hurt his feelings."

"A little rejection is good for him." He looked at Susanne again. "I think I owe you thanks for what you did last night."

Susanne reached up and rubbed the stubble on his cheek. "I was glad to do it. It's much too pretty a face to get all banged up."

Chris chuckled. "Well, I don't know how pretty it is, but I agree it shouldn't get banged up."

Susanne moved her hand from his cheek and drew his head down to kiss him.

Chris grinned when she pulled away. "Right out here in the open? You're gonna ruin your reputation."

"What reputation?" She said just before her lips once again found his. Chris was starting to think that there might be a way to salvage his lost night with Susanne when her hand found a particularly tender spot on his torso; a spot where the toe of a boot had met his side. He instinctively jumped away from the pain her touch caused and almost immediately started cussing himself for breaking their kiss.

Susanne winced when she realized what she'd done. "I'm sorry. I guess you're pretty sore today."

"A little."

"That's a shame. I guess you'll be leaving soon."

Chris nodded. "Probably today. The sheriff thought it'd be a good idea for us to be gone before he had to turn the other three loose."

"Probably so, although that's a shame too."

Chris was painfully aware of that fact and made one last effort to salvage what might have been. "I do have a room if you wanted to come in for a while."

Susanne grinned. "It's tempting, but I don't think you're really in any shape for that right now."

"I could suffer through it."

Susanne laughed. "That wouldn't be much fun, and you know it."

Chris shrugged. "You can't blame me for tryin'."

"Oh, I would have been disappointed if you hadn't, and it really is tempting."

"Thanks again for helping last night."

"It was my pleasure," she said before giving him one last kiss. "Bye, Chris. I'll always be sorry it happened this way, but if you ever make it this way again . . . . "

"I'll be sure to find you." This time he kissed her, and when they broke apart, Susanne stepped away.

"See you, cowboy," she said with a smile. Chris watched her walk away, and for once he didn't even care that he'd been labeled a cowboy. Once she was out of sight, he sighed and went inside wondering if he'd always feel a little regretful their night together hadn't happened.

xxxxxxx

It didn't take long for Chris and Buck to pack, and they soon decided with nothing to keep them in town they might as well put as much distance between themselves and the men they'd fought with as they could. They stopped in the dining room and got a meal, but as soon as they were done, they were back on the trail. They spent the first couple of miles in silence, and Chris took the time to think back on the last month. He'd always had a knack for finding trouble, but the last few weeks had been ridiculous. If that's what came for trying to have a little fun for a birthday, he'd be better off to go back to ignoring them.

"You know, Buck," he said, breaking the silence. "I can say I've never had a birthday quite like that before."

Buck grinned. "You've never been with me before either."

Chris rolled his eyes. "I didn't even get in that much trouble with Ella." And there had been plenty of trouble with Ella.

Buck looked at him in mock indignation. "Didn't you hear the man say earlier you should be grateful you have a friend?"

"I think he was talkin' about Susanne," Chris commented dryly.

"Me, Susanne, what's the difference?"

"Do you really want me to tell you about that?" Chris asked with a smirk.

Buck almost looked offended until he caught Chris' look. He finally starting laughing. "Alright, I get your point. But it could have been worse."

"Yeah, I guess it could have been," Chris admitted. "But over the last month, I've been stabbed, you've been shot, I've been in a gunfight, and we've both spent at least one night in jail. The way this month has gone, I don't think I ever want to celebrate another birthday again."

"It wasn't that bad," Buck protested.

"It was bad enough. If you want to celebrate next year, I'm afraid you're on your own."

Buck smirked. "Yeah, right."

"I mean it, Buck, I'm not doin' it again."

Buck continued to grin. "Whatever you say, stud."

Chris meant it, no matter what Buck thought, he had no intention of doing anything like this again. It was a vow that lasted exactly eleven months.