"Haven. A respite from storm, a harbor to dock safely in," River murmured in the recreation room during breakfast the next day.

"Oh, it's a nice enough place," Kaylee said brightly. She grinned at River, Simon and Book. "You haven't been there, have you? Not yet?"

Simon shook his head. "No, we haven't. Seems like just about the only place out on the Rim we haven't been."

"It's a good place to sit a spell, get some target practice in." Jayne took a long drink of water. "The locals got some good food growin' up in there."

Zach frowned. "Now wait a sec. If they don't got any good soil, how good can it be?"

"Better'n protein mash, that's for sure," Jayne said. "Most anything would be better than that go se. I suppose it's mostly the company that makes it so nice. Dinner's always better with good company."

"That's right," Kaylee added, nodding. "We're almost like family. Why, the last time they got Jayne to play guitar around the campfire, and we were up late all night just talking. They don't got much, but whatever they got, they share."

"You just like it that the kids there play with you," Wash joked. "You have a mean game of jacks, my friend."

Kaylee laughed as Zoe playfully swatted Wash's arm. "Aw... Are you still jealous I beat you so hard you were doin' my chores for a week?"

Zach laughed along with everyone else. This is what he had been missing while on the run from the Alliance, doing jobs here and there. He had been alone for so long, he hadn't realized how fun it could be to have friends. He had contacts, he had fences and names to set up jobs. He had a few men he saw regularly, men he drank with and gambled with, but they weren't friends. He hadn't had friends since the War, and most of them were dead now anyway. He had missed this, and now he didn't want to let it go. "So, you're a mean jacks player, eh? I'd like to see you prove that."

Kaylee grinned wickedly. "You think you can beat me, Zach? Ain't no one been able to beat me, not in the long run anyhow. River can get a game or two in, but never two out of three."

"Well, you might have to remind me of the rules. It's been a long time since I played with my mei mei."

"Well you sit right here," Kaylee instructed, "and I'll go get 'em." She winked. "Don't go runnin' scared now!"

Zach laughed. "Yes ma'am!"

A few moments after Kaylee left the room, Book stood and nodded to the rest of the crew. "If you need me, captain, I'll be in my room," he murmured before retreating.

Once in his room, he sat at his desk, pulled out his Bible and opened it. Book tried to read, to meditate on the words that had been his guiding principles for seven years now, but the ink blurred in front of his eyes. He shook his head to clear his vision, but he found even once the words were clear, he couldn't concentrate. Sighing, he closed the book and pushed it to the edge of the desk.

He lowered his head and tried to pray. "Father, oh Holy Father, please forgive me. Please take this sin from my heart." Even as he said it, he felt dirty, as if he'd shamed God by even asking for absolution from such a horrible crime. Book squeezed his eyes shut to attempt to halt the flow of tears, but one leaked out and slid down his face.

He slammed his fist onto the wooden table, the sharp pain breaking his reverie. In the sudden silence of his bunk, he waited for God to talk to him but heard nothing over the din of his pounding heart.

The surface of Constance, like most of the planets out here on the rim, seemed to be made entirely of a fine dust. A warm wind picked it up and whipped it around, coating the crew in a brown film. "Preacher, you sure you need to go to town? I'd feel a mite more comfortable you staying with the ship," Mal said as he adjusted his goggles.

Book shook his head. "I believe Wash and Kaylee can hold down the fort without my assistance. A body needs to feel the earth below him and the sky above him at times."

"We'll be on Haven in less than two days; you can't wait that long?" Zoe and Jayne stood behind Mal, looking impatient as the captain argued with Book.

"It can't." His voice was hard, a tone he'd not used frequently in years.

Mal seemed to recognize the tone and nodded his acquiescence without another word. "You just get back to the ship in three hours. This job's going to go fast, and I ain't planning on leaving you."

"Understood, Captain. You go on about your business; I'll do the same."

With that, Mal, Zoe and Jayne headed off toward one end of town and Book walked slowly toward the main street. Once in the shelter of the buildings, the wind died to nothing, and the dust settled. Book attempted to brush some of it off his clothing.

"Ain't gonna help. Stuff's worse'n glue for stickin'." A young girl, no more than twelve, smiled down at him from her perch on a tree limb. She dropped to the ground, landing gracefully on her feet, her dress billowing around her legs. "You're new in town."

Book smiled. "Visiting, dear."

The girl cocked her head to the side, studying him, her green eyes wide. "You don't look like a courier cap'n. Seems like that's the only kinda visitors we get around here." She grinned and scrubbed at her cheek, leaving a line of dirt across her freckled skin. "What are you?"

Book blinked. What was he? "I'm a Shepherd. A man of God," he answered reluctantly.

"Really? You know the Bible an' everything?" Her eyes went wide with wonder. "Oh, Mama's gonna be so excited!"

"What's Mama gonna be excited about, Anne?" A young woman, perhaps in her late twenties stepped out of the nearest building. She looked like an older, taller version of the red-haired green-eyed girl that had fallen out of the tree: clearly her mother.

Anne turned to her mother, a wide smile on her face. "He's a preacher, Mama! A real Shepherd!"

The woman looked at him, taking in his dust-covered appearance. "That so? We ain't had a preacher 'round these parts for nigh on a year; last one died in the sickness run through the town 'bout that time." She nodded. "You oughtta come in out of the heat. We ain't got air conditioning but there's a good working fan and a sight less dust." Without waiting for an answer she turned and headed back into the building she'd come from, her shoes clicking on the wood sidewalk.

Anne smiled and reached for Book's hand. "Come on, Shepherd. I bet the townsfolk will want to talk to you real bad."

The building turned out to be a general store and diner; Anne's father owned it, and her mother worked the counter most days. It also served as an impromptu meeting place where it seemed like half the town had gathered. Anne dragged Book to the restaurant area,and sat him down with the pronouncement that she'd found a new preacher.

It took ten minutes to calm the townspeople down, and another ten to explain that he was only visiting. "Your town looks like a wonderful place; I'm sorry I'm not able to stay longer."

A young man with hair the color of straw grinned toothily. Book thought his name was David, but he'd been introduced to so many people. "Preacher, it don't matter how long you stay, 's long as you bring the word of the Lord, you're welcome. If it ain't too much trouble, would you mind saying a few words?"

Book attempted to refuse. "I'm very sorry, but I don't have my Bible with me, and I don't have anything prepared." The lines on his brow deepened; how could he explain to these people that he wasn't worthy to preach a word of the Lord's teachings? "I really can't."

"I got a Bible right here, Shepherd, if you'd like to borrow it." Anne's mother held out a worn but obviously well-loved tome. "Even just a few words would satisfy. The good Lord said, 'It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.' We been living on just bread for far too long."

Book took the Bible, fingering the edges lovingly. He closed his eyes and prayed for strength, but felt no answering resonance within him. Sighing, he opened the book, hoping the Lord would guide his tongue even if he didn't deserve it.

Randomly opening the Bible rarely failed him; God guided his hands more often than not. This time, however, he had to bite back a grimace at the passage his fingers touched. Let no one say God had no sense of humor. He stood and moved to the front of the room.

"'Don't judge, so that you won't be judged,'" Book read. "'For with whatever judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with whatever measure you measure, it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but don't consider the beam that is in your own eye? Or how will you tell your brother, "Let me remove the speck from your eye;" and behold, the beam is in your own eye? You hypocrite! First remove the beam out of your own eye, and then you can see clearly to remove the speck out of your brother's eye.' Matthew 7:1-5."

He looked up from the book, unsure of what to say. "Jesus' main detractors were not the people, but the Jewish leaders. They saw him as a threat to their authority, but did not see what he brought to the world." As he spoke, his voice grew stronger, his words more sure. "They sought to preserve their way of life, which, in itself, is not wrong. But in blindly defending their system, they were unable to see the Truth.

"This is something each of us must struggle with every day. It's easy to say you believe in God, that you follow the precepts set forth for us in the Bible. It's much harder to do so in practice. We are sinful creatures, at our base, but we have been blessed with free will. It is up to us whether we match our actions to our words, or point out the speck in others while ignoring the plank in our own eye."

The townspeople looked up at him with smiling faces, and Book felt like a fool. Who was he to talk about hypocrites? What was that old saying, takes one to know one? His chest felt tight even as the people started asking questions. Book did his best to merely moderate a discussion, avoiding answering questions himself as much as possible. He wasn't worthy to preach to these people; if they knew what he'd done, they would run him out of town on a rail.

An hour later, the discussion having broken up into a few small groups, Book tried to leave quietly. He thanked Anne's mother for the loaned Bible, and let the young girl lead him out. "Thank you, my dear."

She grinned up at him, her adult teeth looking almost too large for her child-sized mouth. "You oughtta stay for dinner. Mama cooks real good."

"I would love to, but I really must get back," Book declined with a wistful smile. He started to thank her, as he had her mother, for their hospitality, but was interrupted by the clanging of a large bell, and accompanying yelling coming from the town square. "What is that?"

Anne's eyes grew large. "Warning bell. Raiders," she breathed, her small hands clutching her skirt. "Oh no, oh no." She looked up at Book, terror evident in the lines of her body. "We gotta get out of the street. Gotta get inside."

"You go in. I'm a big man, I'll be fine." He shooed her toward her parents' store, watching her until she made it inside. Then he turned and jogged to the center of town. "What's going on," he asked the first man he saw.

"Bank's been robbed," he answered absently. His eyes were on the crowd of men gathering around the bell. "Seems like the thieves got away mostly clean, but they're headed to their ship. Off-worlders." As he said it, the man turned to Book. "Reckon they only got here today," he said, studying the Shepherd's face. "Seems you got here today too."

Years of training were the only thing that kept Book's face neutral. "The crew I'm with would never think to rob a bank." Though if they were hired to do it, he added ruefully in his head.

The man stared at him for a moment longer, assessing him. He finally nodded. "You're a good man, Shepherd," he said before moving toward the center of the crowd.

Those words and his own weighed heavily on Book's heart. He backed away from the crowd and started to make his way back toward Serenity. He could hear the contained roar of the mass of people behind him and sent up a quick prayer for the crew's safety.

Book quickened his stride when he heard the crowd quiet. Someone -- the mayor, he assumed -- was speaking, rallying the townspeople to coherent action. This didn't bode well for the crew, or for him, if they were caught in town. The people seemed nice enough, but they seemed provincial enough that hanging was the main form of punishment.

The crowed roared in unison, and Book felt a shift in the air. It wasn't anything tangible, no change in the wind or temperature, but rather a tension so tight he could feel it on his skin. The crowd was moving, and the street suddenly felt very unsafe. Without looking behind him, Book ducked into the first alley he found, pressing his back to the wall of the building. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the mass of people move by, all angry and armed.

"Preacher? That you?"

Book jumped, the voice rattling him in his anxious state. "Captain? Is that you?"

"Yeah. We're waiting out this storm before making a break for Serenity. You look to be doing the same." Mal picked his way through the trash that filled the narrow alley, moving toward Book. Behind him, Zoe and Jayne held their guns at the ready.

"It didn't seem safe to be a visitor at the moment, even though I had nothing to do with their bank suddenly missing a large amount of cash." His eyes narrowed at Mal. "I assume you know something about that."

"I do, but not in the way you think," Mal answered. He opened his mouth, intent on explaining, when a feral yell caught his attention. "Zaogoa! Looks like we'll have to continue this conversation later, Shepherd," he muttered as he grabbed Book's wrist. "Let's go!"

Dragging Book along, Mal rushed between Zoe and Jayne and down the alley. Zoe turned and followed next, Jayne acting as rear-guard for their retreat. Book didn't turn to look, but could hear the pounding of many feet following them. "Wash, Kaylee! Get my boat ready, we're coming in fast," Mal shouted into his comm.

"We'll have her ready for you," Wash's voice crackled back.

A bullet sang past Books ear and he could help but duck. The action caused him, and Mal by proxy, to stumble. "Gorram it, Shepherd, don't have time for you to go getting squeamish on me now!" Mal yelled as he pulled the man to his feet.

"Stop! Thieves! Stop!"

Jayne snorted, even as he shot back into the crowd. "Like that ever works. 'Sides, we may be thieves, but we didn't take your damn money!"

Serenity rose into sight above a hill, and it gave the crew one last burst of energy. The cargo bay door was already lowered. Bullets whizzed past them, pinging against the metal hull of the ship. Behind them, Jayne grunted in pain as a bullet sliced through his arm. "Gorram it! I like this shirt!" He turned and shot twice, eliciting two screams of pain.

The four of them ran up the ramp, taking cover as soon as possible. Book sat staring ahead of him, his chest heaving. As the ramp closed and Serenity engines warmed up, Book could hear the shouts of the crowd. A voice that sounded like David, the blonde man from town, rang in Book's ears: 'You ain't no Shepherd! Just a thief like the rest of them!' A sharp pain shot through his chest. He wanted to deny it, but knew he couldn’t. He wasn’t a thief. He was much worse.

"Well, that was more exciting than I expected. Seems we'll be having a talk with Badger next time we see the little pian zi." Mal stood and holstered his pistol, taking stock of his injuries.

"Qingwa cào de liúmáng," Jayne growled, his hand tight on his wound, trying to slow the bleeding. "Thought this was supposed to be a milk run, Mal."

Zoe walked calmly toward them, unloading her shotgun. "It was. Seems like Badger didn't trust us too much. I think I recognized one of the other crew. Looked like someone Badger's contracted with before."

"I don't blame him for not trusting you." Book's voice caused all three to turn to stare. He'd climbed to his feet during the conversation, and was staring at Mal. "You stole from those people, and they think I had something to do with it." His voice and eyes were flat, his jaw tight.

"Now, listen, Shepherd, it wasn't exactly--"

"Captain, I don't want any of your excuses. These people may never trust a man of God again, and I am partially responsible for that."

Mal held up a hand. "Now, Shepherd, don't go getting riled up--"

"Riled up? You haven't seen me riled up, Captain!" He managed to make the title sound more like a profanity than Jayne's earlier curses. Stepping closer, he glared at Mal. "Those people trusted me, and you used that!"

"I don't need to explain myself to my passengers."

Breathing heavily, Book took a step closer. There was a moment's pause, and he felt everything slow down. Like in a Cortex movie, his fist seemed to move in slow motion as it arced toward Mal's jaw, and the drops of blood and spittle that flew from his lips took forever to land on the cargo bay floor. "No. But we must all explain ourselves to God."

Mal narrowed his eyes and held his face, blood pooling at the edge of his mouth. "You best be getting to your room before I turn around and drop your holy ass back on that rock."

"With pleasure," Book said, his jaw clenched, his fists itching to throw another punch. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as he turned, steps measured and deliberate.

The last thing he heard before leaving the cargo bay was Mal calling Simon to ready the infirmary.

Thirty-six hours later, Serenity touched down on Haven. It was just before noon, and the majority of the town's residents were outside working or, in the case of the children, playing. The arrival of any ship was cause for excitement; the arrival of Serenity was cause for celebration. Mere seconds after the landing ramp hit the dusty ground, the townspeople swarmed the ship, attacking the crew with handshakes and hugs.

"It's good to see you again, Malcolm Reynolds," Elder Meir said, clapping the captain on the back. If he noticed the large purple bruise on Mal's jaw, he didn't mention it. It wasn't uncommon for people visiting Haven to come in battered and bruised; the townspeople patched them up and treated them just the same.

"You too, Elder," Mal agreed, walking through the crowd with the shorter man. He smiled to those he recognized, and nodded a greeting to those he didn't. "Town's growing," he observed.

Elder Meir nodded. "We've had an influx of new residents, and several babies have been born in the past few months. Our people are doing well, despite all our trials and tribulations. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. My youngest has married since you last visited, so there's enough room for all of you in my home, if you'd rather not stay on your ship."

They broke through the crowd, leaving the crew to fend for themselves among the people, and walked in silence until the reached a more secluded spot. Elder Meir looked up at Mal and said, "They tell me you may have a new resident for us." Mal's face must have displayed his surprise, because the Elder laughed. "You may have your sources, Captain Reynolds, but I have mine as well."

Mal grinned with him, shrugging. "I do indeed. Name's Zach Ibsen, and he fought with me 'n Zoe in the war. Seems he got himself into some trouble with the law, and needed to get off planet."

Elder Meir nodded as Mal spoke. "He is a lost soul, like you, then?"

"Now what does that mean?" Mal frowned, halting in his slow walk.

Elder Meir paused too and turned to him. He didn't answer in words, only smiled. "Zach Ibsen. What can he offer us here on Haven?"

A small frown still sat above Mal's eyebrows, but he tried to ignore the comment. "He was a farmer before the war, and he loves it. Seems to think he can help you out with your soil problems."

Nodding, the Elder said, "If he'd like to stay, he's welcome here. Any enemy of the Alliance is a friend of ours, especially if he can help us."

"Alright then," Mal said. "Well, I ought to get back to my ship before your kids try to stow away."

Elder Meir grinned. "I think they just might try. Go, then."

With a nod, Mal jogged back to Serenity, where the rest of the crew continued to talk to the residents.

Something that made Haven such a good hideout was its location: it was built mostly underground. Haven used to be named Alberich, and it had been colonized years before by miners. When the veins ran dry, the miners moved on, leaving the planet bereft of nutritious soil and tunneled through like a rabbit's warren. Building on the surface was treacherous at best, so the people who lived there appropriated the old mineshafts.

"Secrets can be buried here," River murmured, looking up at Zach. "Buried deep."

"I'm thinking so. Mal done good by me, just as always." He smiled at River. "He always was a good man."

She nodded. "Sometimes he doesn't know it." With one last look, she jogged over to Kaylee, leaving Zach with Zoe.

"River! I got some people you just gotta meet," Kaylee shouted. "Jack, this is my friend, River. River, Jack."

Zach watched the scene with a wistful smile. "I think I could be happy here."

"I think you could too." Zoe stood just behind him, watching the children crowd around the two young women. "You just have to let yourself."

Zach turned to her. "Like how you did with that Wash character? Never thought I'd live to see the day tough Zoe Allyene got herself hitched."

"Neither did I. There's just somethin' about him…" She trailed off. "You just need to stop running for a minute, and you realized what all you were missing when you were."

He snorted. "Seems like you ought to be telling Sarge that, not me. I've been trying to stop running for years, just never could do it."

Zoe grinned. "You try telling him that. Captain is just as stubborn as he was back then."

He chuckled. "I've seen that."

"We should head in to grab some food before Jayne eats it all," Zoe said after a moment of companionable silence. "Wash's already inside, I'm sure, and Kaylee and River will head in when the kids do. And by the looks of it, that might not be for a while."

"You're right. It'll be nice to get some decent food for once."

Jayne was surprisingly civil with some of the Havenites. He and Book were sitting at one table with some of the older citizens, chatting about how hard it was to expand the town. "Too much work, and lots o' the young 'uns want ready places to stay. Rim life is tough as nails, it is, and it's not for some easy-peasy child to work on," one of them said.

"How's the huntin' been?" Jayne asked. He sipped on his soup and looked around the table. The last time they had been to Haven, he had pitched in on their hunting trip for target practice. It had been a lot of fun, and there had been meat in the mess to boot.

"Pretty good. Season's off at the moment."

"Wouldn't want to overhunt. We'd have to import more game to keep up the season longer, and we all know we can't afford that." The man sighed and shook his head. "The miners didn't leave nothing in the ground but dust."

"Damn shame," Jayne murmured, shaking his head.

"Don't swear in front of a Shepherd," one of the older men chastised. "Ain't good for your soul, and ain't right."

Book smiled at Jayne's discomfort. "It's alright, Seamus. I understand what Jayne meant. It is a shame it isn't easier for you to make your home better. If anyone deserves it, it's the people here."

"We try, Shepherd. We all do our best," Seamus said, chest puffing up with pride. "Thanks be to God Almighty, we'll keep on keepin' on."

Book smiled warmly at him and nodded. "Seems like the best kind of plan." He stopped awkwardly, feeling like he should say more, but unsure. Seamus nodded at him, and the trust in the other man's eyes eased the pain in Book's chest a little. "God has a plan for everyone. He never gives us a load that we cannot carry." He reached for his glass and took a long drink of fresh milk.

"Well now... I don't mean to be a nuisance..." another man began uncertainly. Book remembered him as Harold. He rubbed his hands together as he looked around the table, where the rest of the people seemed to be encouraging him.

Book nodded at him, wondering what was so important. "Go on."

Harold, encouraged by his peers and the Shepherd, smiled. "Think you could do a service afore you leave? I know we'd all be mighty obliged. It's been a good long time since the last time a wandering preacher roamed this way, us being so far out, and mostly Browncoats to boot." A ripple of laughter spread through the room, and the speaker grinned himself. "I know we're leaning on the Good Book, but I for one like hearin' a sermon. A body can only take so much of Thomas Aikensenn preaching on the Beatitudes." Another wave of laughter, this one a bit louder, spread out from the speaking man. More than one pair of eyes focused on a white-haired man who looked more than a little confused. The man, presumably Thomas, merely smiled vacantly. While the rest of the people were occupied by laughter, the first man leaned forward slightly and his voice lowered a notch. "Ain't so good with the reading myself, and I ain't the only one. We only got a schoolteacher a year ago, and some of us folks are too old to learn."

Book smiled at the man. "I'll see what I can do," he said softly. "I can certainly lead a discussion after dinner tonight, and if the Lord wills it, can try to have a sermon ready for the morning."

Every face at the table lit up. "Truly? That would be mighty fine, Shepherd."

Jayne was grinning at Book and nodding at him. "Looks like you got a place, too."

"It seems that way," Book murmured thoughtfully, wondering if wrong could still sully if it was deeply buried. Could it be hidden deeply enough not to corrupt goodness? He contemplated the rest of his soup in silence, surrounded by innocent chatter.

Zach was introduced to many of the families that had helped to found Haven. They appreciated his input on their gardens and seemed to like him well enough. "I think it would be a nice place to move to. Like on a permanent basis."

"Really now?" Charles Anthony said. He turned from Zach for a moment and watched his son Jack run around in the town's square. "It is a fine place to settle down, make a home, have a family... Are you interested in staying on, then?"

"Most definitely. I've been looking for a nice place to be."

"It will be some hard work, getting everything up to scratch."

"Most good things are," Zach replied easily. "But the best things for you need to be worked on, else you don't appreciate it enough."

"Wise words," Charles replied. "Why don't we all talk in the church? We don't got no preacher, so it's doubling now as our Town Hall."

"Why, there's a Shepherd on the ship," Zach offered. He looked over at Book, who had finished his lunch with the other Havenites. He had moved to another table and was now talking with Mal, Zoe and Wash at one of the restaurant's open-air tables. "That's him over there, white hair and talkin' with Mal."

"Really? We kept askin' if someone would want to come here. Most of our folk feel most comfortable with someone preaching, than to do their own reading. Not too many always understand what the good book says. It would be a greatness if a Shepherd was willing to stay and do services for us, but most don't like how far out in the black we are. But we haven't had any Reaver attacks, and we got a home guard to protect us if there are."

"Well, this one says he's a roamer. Why not ask if he'll do a service while he's here and if he knows anyone in search of a good homestead to preach to? Not every preacher wants to stay in the Core, you know."

"Certainly something to think on."

That evening, the people built a bonfire on the surface of the planet. Although they slept and ate in the tunnels, the citizens of Haven preferred to socialize on the surface when the weather allowed. Harold had gathered those in Haven who wanted to join in a Bible discussion to one side of the fire, and Book smiled as he directed and moderated the group. He didn't fully participate, but the residents of Haven didn't seem to notice, or if they did, to mind. Having a Shepherd around seemed to be enough for them.

The rest of the crew sat on the other side of the fire, surrounded by some of the younger residents. Kaylee and River sat on the ground, young children draped over them like blankets as they talked with some of the girls their age. Most of the children were in varying states of near-sleep, though occasionally one would jump and sit up, as if to prove that he or she was still awake. This never failed to cause the girls and their companions to giggle uncontrollably, which in turn caused yet another child to sit up.

Soon the children's mothers started to pick up their children and the rest of the girls scattered to be with their sweethearts. Kaylee offered to help the last woman, a mother of triplets, put the three girls to bed. "You want to come, River?"

"No. The darkness is too heavy inside. I'll go sit by the fire until you come back." Kaylee grinned and picked up one of the girls, cradling her in her arms, and followed the weary mother to the main entrance to the town.

True to her word, River drifted toward the main group of people, carefully avoiding some of the larger rocks in her bare feet. She closed her eyes and felt the soft dust between her toes and the gentle glow of the fire on her face. The gentle hum of the people's thoughts was little more than background noise in the peace of Haven. She smiled and moved toward the main hum of thoughts, using her mind, not her eyes, to find her way.

Seamus convinced Jayne to play his guitar. "Been a long time since I was able to play much more than slow tunes. My fingers ain't as nimble as they used to be."

Jayne grinned. "And you always was a mite tone-deaf, wasn't you?"

"Ain't that the truth," his friend Reuben added with a laugh. "And don't look at me, I never learned to play."

Laughing along with them, Jayne took the instrument and began to tune it. Seamus tried to look offended. "You think I don't keep my instrument in tip-top condition?" Even as he said it, a smile turned up the corners of his mouth, giving away the joke.

"You was the one who said your fingers didn't work as good as they used to. If I can keep from sounding like you, I'll do it," he teased.

He was rewarded by hearty laughter as he listened for the tell-tale wobble that indicated the string was out-of-tune. He bit his bottom lip in concentration.

"Your G string is a half pitch sharp." River's voice drifted out of the darkness, followed momentarily by the girl.

"I weren't there yet, crazy," Jayne muttered. "Still tuning the D." She lowered herself to the log beside him even as he plucked the G string. It was sharp. Muttering a curse, he turned the key, lowering it to the correct tone. "Your brother know you ain't in bed yet?"

River smiled, her eyes focused on the fire. "He's distracted. Wants to heal sickness before we leave. Mine will be there in the morning."

Jayne didn't even look up. "Thought you was on good medicines now."

"They made me feel strange," River said simply. "Thoughts...not mine."

"Are they now?" he asked, looking up. He tried an experimental chord and was pleased when it turned out perfectly.

"Don't know. The secrets that will be buried here don't rest easily." She turned to look at him. "The music is as blue as your eyes and the goodbyes on the wind."

Jayne shook his head, eyes still on the neck of the guitar. It wasn't his, and it felt just different enough that he needed to practice. "Tell the Doc that. He'll know what to do."

"No. Can't be fixed with needles and smoothers. Cracks run deep. He thought they were patched, but once a thing is broken, can't be the same ever again." She dropped her eyes to her hands, tracing the veins in one arm with the fingers of the other. "Secrets don't like to stay buried, no matter how hard we try."

Jayne eyed River as if she were some dangerous animal, though he didn't move away. Seamus smiled at the girl. "You're right. Fixin' things is good and all, but you gotta remember that there's always gonna be weak spots."

River looked up and turned her huge brown eyes on the man. "No glue is perfect. Not even holy glue." With a quick glance back at Jayne, who had gone back to picking the guitar strings, she rose to her feet and disappeared into the darkness outside the fire.

Seamus frowned. "Strange girl. What'd you think she meant with all that?"

Jayne snorted. "Girl didn't mean nothing. She's more than a little whimsical in the brainpan, spouting go se like that all the time."

He picked out a few notes, plucking them strongly. The gathered people smiled; this folk song was one of Haven's favorites. Jayne's voice was soft but on pitch when he started to sing. "Where have you been, my long lost friend? It's good to see you again." A few more voices joined in at the next break, "Come and sit for a while. I've missed your smile. Today the past is goodbye."

Just outside the circle, Book heard the words and felt the burden on his heart lift just a little bit more.

Continue to part three