REQUIEM
by Tess
Part 1
Steam rising up like demented ghostlings played along the rim of his coffee mug in the early fall morning air. Slumping in the comfortable old chair in front of the saloon, Ezra peered into the rosy dawn with dubious enthusiasm.
“Come on, Standish, let’s go.”
“Certainly, Mr. Larabee, we wouldn’t want to detain the prisoners.”
The tall gunslinger turned quickly before the gambler could see his grin and led the way to the jail. Sheriff Joe Dodson from White Oaks was meeting them tomorrow afternoon to relieve them of the bumbling bank robbers that had tried to hold up the weekly stage. They’d been more successful in White Oaks and were headed back for trial.
JD met them at the livery. “Chris, why don’t you let me go?” the young sheriff pled his case yet again.
“No, JD. We’ll be just fine.” Chris grabbed the reins and led Job out to the corral.
Buck and Josiah checked the handcuffed prisoners and made sure they were settled on their rented mounts as Vin checked Peso’s hooves.
“Hey cowboy,” he greeted Larabee. “Where’s Ezra?”
“Fooling with that damn horse of his.” Chris commented mildly.
Nuzzling Job’s graying nose, JD squinted up at Chris. “I really wouldn’t mind going. I can be ready in a minute, then Ezra could stay here.”
Chris frowned at the young man. “He could stand a break from Nathan and Josiah. The two of them have been on him like flies on cow flop.”
“Ain’t right, “ JD groused. “ What is it with those two anyway?”
“Just a difference of opinion, kid.” Buck said, draping a friendly arm around the young man’s neck.
“Buck, it weren’t no opinion. Those guys knew what they were doing. They asked Ezra to play, after all.”
“Apparently, Nat and Josiah didn’t see it quite that way.”
Ezra ambled out of the stable, Chaucer’s chestnut coat gleaming in the sunlight. He had heard JD’s comment and reminded himself to make sure the kid won handsomely at their next game. He sighed as Nathan and Josiah approached.
“Chris, you and Vin watch your backs.” Nathan wouldn’t even look at Standish.
The big man beside him was equally discriminating. “You two be careful out there. We’ll expect you day after tomorrow or the day after at the latest.”
Feeling the sheriff tense, Buck guided him away, tossing his farewell over his shoulder, “See you boys, you all watch your backs.”
JD added, “Have a good trip, Ezra,” he nodded at Chris and Vin.
Squeezing JD’s neck, Buck whispered quietly, “Don’t fret, kid, Chris will handle that one.”
Ignoring Nathan and Josiah’s slight, Ezra tipped his hat at the men. “Gentlemen,” he said pleasantly a hint of a smile crossing his face. Smoothly kneeing Chaucer, he gathered the reins of one of the outlaw’s horses and headed out.
Throwing a stern look at the two men standing in the dusty street, Vin grabbed the other reins and followed the tan coated gambler.
Chris just stared at the two, his famous glare causing them to shift uncomfortably. “Think you better work on your ciphering while we’re gone. See if you can learn to count to three.”
“But Chris, that damned Southerner.” Nathan started.
“Hell, Nathan, you can and do disagree with everything Ezra does and says, you’re surely entitled to your opinion but this petty back-biting gets on my nerves. I ain’t saying the man doesn’t deserved taking down every now and then. Heaven knows he could drive a saint to drink but you two are acting as if he committed some dastardly crime. All the man did was beat some fellows at their own game. I know they were Indians from that village you all been helping out, but they did ask Ezra to play. They weren’t upset at the loss, so why should you be?”
Josiah sighed, “Chris those people barely got enough to hold body and soul together.”
“That ain’t Ezra’s fault. Besides… “ The shootist broke off, shaking his head in disgust. “Forget it, I don’t think you two are in any mind to listen.” With that, he spurred Job into a gallop after his departing friends, leaving two disgruntled men pondering clouds of dust.
Shaking Joe Dodson’s hand, Chris gratefully mounted Job and headed him in the direction of Four Corners. Ezra and Vin fell in beside him, glad to be relieved of the prisoners.
Vin pursed his lips slightly, sharing a concerned look with Chris. Ezra had not said ten words in the past day and a half. The unnatural silence had begun to wear thin, even for the two taciturn men. Problem was that neither knew exactly what to say. So, they rode in silence.
Ezra was aware of the questioning looks and speechless debate, but he was preoccupied. Mother. Damn. Two months ago, she’d shown up, totally without warning, as usual. The night before she left, she sat in his room and informed him that she was dying. Breast cancer. He was stunned. He wanted to believe that it was part of some devious plan, but the plea in her eyes told him otherwise.
With calm, measured tones she informed him that she would be spending her remaining days at a resort in Colorado Springs. Her wishes were clear; he was not to make a fuss. Certainly not, had been her exclamation when he asked to accompany her. The next day, she simply brushed his cheek with her lips and said she would telegraph if his presence were requested. Then she was gone.
She had written him twice: chatty, cheerful, typical missives, not a hint of illness or discomfort. His letters had been more direct, but his questions went unanswered. So, he waited in silent misery. The mind that knew her for thirty-seven years told him not to expect more. Maude hated illness or injury and always pretended it didn’t exist. His heart said otherwise. Perhaps he should just go. Would she want to see him or would she be angry that he ignored her wishes? Ezra could not decide, and so he wrestled with the issue. His associates thought he was upset about that business with Nathan and Josiah. Let them think what they will, he mused.
As the evening drew on, the gambler prudently brought out a deck and began playing with his trail mates. Ah hell, he pondered their increasingly more intense glances. They weren’t buying. Ezra, my boy, you have been in their company too long. They’re starting to read you.
Chris looked at his hand. Two pair, queens and tens but he never won three hands in a row. “Ezra, you cheating?”
“Mr. Larabee, I take umbrage at that accusation.”
“I don’t care what you take, you cheating?”
“No,” the gambler muttered folding his hand.
“Then what the hell is the matter with you?’ the Larabee lion was aroused.
“Whatever are you -?”
“Look Standish, don’t feed me any of your bullshit. Something is eating at your craw and I want to know what it is.”
“Oh hell,” he dropped his eyes to the cards he was worrying in his hands.
Turquoise eyes studied the gambler intently. “Pard, you haven’t been on top your game since your ma was here.”
Of course, Mr. Sneaky would have figured it out. Damn that hunter. Ezra tried to determine what gave him away. How could he have become so unguarded?
“Everything is perfectly in order.”
The looks became more pointed.
“Gentlemen, I assure you. Everything is fine. The torrid summer was a mite discomfiting, that’s all.”
“Don’t got nothin’ to do with the heat, Ezra and you know it.”
What could he say? I’m worried about my mother, she’s sick, dying and doesn’t want me anywhere near her. No way, they already thought that Maude had him tied to her like a wobbly-legged colt with a brood mare. Both of them had buried parents already. Tanner was only five when he hit the road alone and here he was nearing forty and he couldn’t handle this. He knew he was weak and was not about to let them know just how much. Nope, he refused to be the fragile link, the poorly welded chain.
“Mr. Tanner,” the southern tones were tinged with northern ice. “I find your probing to be rude and intrusive. There is absolutely nary a thing amiss and you would do well to remember it.”
The lion roared. “You better damn sight not be lying to me Standish. I swear if anybody gets hurt because you got your head in a hole, I’m gonna tear out your lying tongue and shove it down your throat.”
“If we are done with this pointless discussion, I suggest we continue with this game.” Ezra could swear he heard Chris growl, but smiled his good old boy grin, and shuffled the cards.
“Deal” Larabee demanded. Damn stubborn card sharp. Tossing a glance at Vin he agreed. Nope, everything was definitely not all right. Ezra was touchier than a skillet full of rattlesnakes. This meant he was either worried or scared or both.
Vin watched as Ezra played ruthlessly, neither of them won another game the rest of the night. Vin let the cutting words slide off him like water off a duck’s back. He’d learned since that unhappy episode with his poetry that when Ezra was troubled, he used his tongue like a saber. Didn’t mean a thing, they all had their defenses. Look at Larabee, hitting back with anger because he was worried about the skitterish Southerner.
Ezra played as if he was in a high-stakes game. All bets were off and he was relentless. Larabee’s comments had shaken him. He was distracted and he knew it. What if he got somebody hurt? It was his worst nightmare.
Instead of sharpening his wits, Ezra found this new worry diverted his troubled mind even further. By the time they reached home late the next day, the anxiety was eating at Ezra’s gut. He had desperately tried to regain his nonchalance. All he managed to do was increase his friends’ uneasiness. The frenetic conversation and frantic manipulation of the cards guaranteed it and testified to the fact that Ezra was certainly not all right
Muffled sounds of gunfire retorted in the twilight as they approached the south end of town. Drawing quickly, Chris ordered, “Split up. Vin take the alley beside the clinic. Ezra, come from the west side, I’m heading straight in. Let’s go.”
Raucous cowhands were rampaging in the main street. Three were plunging about madly on panicked mounts. Another three men on foot weaved about through the confusion. All were shooting at anything that moved. Watching covertly from the darkened alley, Vin could see Buck and Josiah pinned down across the street, while Nathan picked off a rider from the landing of the clinic. JD was nowhere to be seen. Two more shots dropped one of the hands to the street joined soon after by a second mounted man.
The third rider took aim at Josiah, but was quickly taken out by the sharpshooter. Loose horses were milling about in the dim light.
Nathan swore in frustration, “Hellfire and damnation! Buck!” The ladies man was in trouble and he was unable to get a clear shot.
Vin bolted for a better site, but was unable to get a clear shot. Chris kicked the black into motion, driving between the menacing cowhand and his old friend. Two sharp retorts from his Colt swiftly pinned the man.
Hunkering down to reload, Chris was oblivious to the danger from the last man.. Running around the side of the saloon, dodging the aimlessly rioting horses, Ezra saw the cowhand level his gun right at the unprotected gunslinger. He raised his Remington and squeezed the trigger.
Just as he fired, Chris’ horse bolted in front of Ezra and the bullet dropped the black, fatally wounded to the dusty street. Chris spun in disbelief watching his horse hit the ground with an awful scream. The cowhand’s bullet grazed the gunslinger’s ear. Ezra, gut clenching, quickly fired again. The bullet found a home right between the eyes of the murderous cowhand.
“Dear Lord,” Ezra breathed, “Job.” Equine screams rent the night. Lifeblood poured from the stricken beast. Running to the dying horse, Ezra dropped to his knees. Hand shaking, he pressed the creature’s head to his lap murmuring soft apologies.
“I’m so sorry, Job. So sorry old boy.”
His bleary eyes made out the pale hand of the gunslinger joining his in stroking the struggling black muzzle. Heart cold with regret, Ezra met his friend’s eyes. “God in heaven, Mr. Larabee, I am so sorry. I would never willingly injure the beast.”
Chris swallowed hard. Job had been his horse for a long time. Carried him miles and miles. He’d broke him from a colt when he was a young man. All the time he was courting Sarah, Job was there. The old black was the first horse Adam rode. Job spoke to Chris of his youth and now the good, old faithful beast lay dying in the dirt. He wanted to be angry, to hate Ezra for this latest loss, but he couldn’t. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that the silver-tongued con man had a soft spot for animals and children. He’d no more willingly hurt Job then he would Chaucer.
“Jeez, Chris,” Buck wrapped his arm around his old friend, joining the two men in the dirt. The ladies man drew his gun, “Let me put him out of his misery.”
Chris shook his head. “No.”
Buck nodded, blue eyes gray with sympathy. He knew how much this horse meant to Chris.
The gunslinger looked down at the wild pain filled eyes. Marking a spot, he aimed carefully. A long moment passed, the normally rock steady hand trembling in the flickering light from the street fires.
A bloody hand reached up and gently pushed the gun down. “I would do this thing for you, Mr. Larabee.”
Chris nodded and watched as the gambler fixed his aim and fired. The sound ricocheted in his heart. The horse was dead before the sound cleared the air. Without a word, Chris turned on his heel and fled into the saloon. Vin followed.
No one said anything to Ezra. No one even spared the blood soaked man a glance. Ezra could feel their animosity. The whole time Nathan checked the wounded men and carted them off to the jail, Ezra stood motionless in the center of the street. The whole time Josiah directed the undertaker to carry off the three dead men, he simply stood there. Job’s blood dripped from his hands and down the barrel of the Remington dangling loosely in his limp fingertips.
The softhearted ladies man took pity on the poor soul that only acted to save a friend, despite the sad consequences. Buck knew that it was an accident, but it was a bitter pill to swallow.
“Damn it, Ezra,” he tugged on the resistant arm.
Sorrowful glistening green eyes met his understanding blue ones. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Wilmington. He, I, well…” he trailed off uncertainly.
“That bastard had a dead bead on Chris, Ezra. If you hadn’t taken the shot, he would have taken Chris out. Job was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The gambler wasn’t convinced. A small adjustment in his aim should have prevented something like this from happening. Again. Surely, he had time to take a better shot, he just hadn’t. Now, Chris’ mount lay slaughtered in the middle of Main Street. Pulling his arm from Buck’s grasp, he strode over to the blacksmith’s. Hans’ big percherons would be able drag the body to a suitable place for burial. Ezra would see that the horse was tended to properly.
Buck, loyal soul, helped. Shortly before midnight, the three men finished piling rocks over the shallow grave. The ground was too hard to dig a proper grave; Ezra dug like a madman. Buck never saw the gambler work so hard. In fact, he’d never seen the gambler work. He and Hans just shrugged and tried to lend a hand where they could. With a soft sigh, Ezra shouldered the bloody tact and headed for livery. He sat in the empty stall and restored every piece of tact to pristine brightness. Weariness was carved in every pore when Vin came to seek him out an hour later.
“Hey Pard,” Vin greeted him softly.
“Mr. Tanner”
Vin worried his bottom lip. Damn, Buck was right. Ezra was a mass of guilt. From his blood stained clothes, to his sweaty and dirty face, the blistered and bruised hands and ripped nails; Standish was a picture of remorse.
“Buy you a drink.” Vin offered.
Ezra never wavered from the horsehair that he was braiding. “I am not done here.”
“S’okay. I’ll wait.”
“It’s late, Mr. Tanner, I’m sure you are quite fatigued.”
“If your askin’ if I’m tired then I just want to let you know I ain’t too tired to stand a drink with a friend who saved another friend’s life.” Vin didn’t like the abbreviated bitter laugh that greeted his statement.
“And cost Mr. Larabee the life of his faithful steed.”
“It was an accident, Ezra. I ain’t blaming you.” Chris slipped quietly up to the gambler. He stood looking down at the man sitting cross-legged on the floor of the stall. The livery was quiet for a long time. Here and there soft nickers and the low blowing of restless horses drifted over the walls of the black’s former stall. Chris watched almost hypnotized as the gambler wove the hair he cut off Job’s mane and tail into a watch fob for Chris.
Knotting the end with surgical precision, Ezra handed the sleek black cord up to lean shootist. He hesitated for just a moment when the hand reached down for his. A single swift motion brought him to his feet in front of the gunslinger. They stood chest-to-chest, hands clasped palm to palm. Chris squeezed the dirty, stained hand and looking the gambler straight in the eye, said “Thanks, Ezra.”
Green eyes flickered to his for a bare heartbeat, and then Ezra tipped his hat to Chris. With a sigh, he gathered up the lantern and the three made their way to the saloon.
“Mr. Larabee, Chaucer is, of course, at your disposal,” clearing his throat, Ezra added. “Until you can locate a suitable steed.”
“Thanks. I’m sure I’ll scare something up pretty quick. I can lease a mount in the mean time.”
Ezra’s stride faltered. He hardly had the funds to support himself and Chaucer. His mother had taken all his life savings when she swindled the saloon out from under him. Her care at the resort was eating up every other spare cent he managed to acquire. Of course, he needed to replace the black. For a horse of any real breeding, he could expect to pay a pretty penny, especially one of the quality Chris deserved.
Gesturing to his disheveled appearance, he covered his hesitation. “Gentlemen, I need to make myself presentable. Please, go on, I shall be along in a few minutes.”
“See that you are.” Larabee commented, pushing his way into the saloon.
Scrubbing his hands and face and brushing ineffectually at his clothing, Ezra despaired. Mentally adding up his possessions the conclusion was inescapable: it was woefully inadequate. This was assuming he could find a buyer. Should he? No, he could not even consider selling Chaucer and he knew Chris would not accept him. Wasn’t all that practical anyway; he needed a horse to perform his peacekeeping duties.
Oh hell, Ezra sighed to himself. This was exactly what Chris had warned you about and you didn’t even make it all the way back to town until your incompetence wrought this debacle. Ezra, you are a pathetic, blithering murderer. It is no wonder your associates find it difficult to depend on you. How could you have killed that poor animal?
“Hey, Ezra,” JD’s exuberant greeting startled him so badly he almost fell into the watering trough.
“Mr. Dunne, whatever are you doing rambling about this domicile at this hour?”
“Just got back from Casey’s”
Ezra took in the flushed, plain countenance. Even in the dim street fires, he could see the young man’s clear shinning eyes. That odd stab of affection marbled with envy pierced him once again.
Wiping his sore hands on his handkerchief, Ezra waved towards the saloon. “Would you care for a nightcap?”
“Sure. What happened to your hands?”
“It’s a long story, Mr. Dunne. One that I am sure will be all over town by tomorrow morning.”
“Huh?”
“Ask Buck.” Ezra was not about to delve into the sorry tale. Let the garrulous ladies man do the honors. In any case, at least Buck’s telling would be somewhat factual. Who knew what malicious rumors would be rampant by the dawn’s early light? He quickened his step. He really needed a drink.
JD was surprised by the solemn appearances of his friends. Judging from the dead soldiers already littering the floor, everyone had consumed quite a bit of Red Eye. In the brighter light of the saloon, Ezra’s hands looked even worse. In fact, the whole gambler looked pretty sad.
“What happened?” JD asked.
“Where you been, JD?” Larabee returned with a stern look.
“Kid went to see Casey, it was his night off.” Buck reminded Chris.
“So what happened? Did I miss something?” the sheriff persisted.
“We had a little run in with some rowdy cowhands. Boys decided to shoot up the place a bit. They got out of hand and wanted to play dirty. We got ‘em taken care of.”
Since all seven of them were sitting there, JD knew they weren’t hurt. Except.
“What happened to Ezra?”
Before Buck could answer, Josiah intoned. “Brother Standish has been working off some penance. He killed Job.”
“Chris’ horse?” JD was shocked and saddened. He liked Job. “Why would Ezra kill Job?” The young man looked at the other men sitting at the table. Chris just stared into his glass. Ezra remained expressionless except for the flushed cheeks, eyes fixed intently on his torn fingers.
Vin rubbed his bottom lip, “It was an accident kid.” Cool blue eyes dared anyone to say differently.
“Yeah,” Nathan commented with some ire, “Another one of Ezra’s accidents, leaving somebody high and dry.”
He got no farther. Ezra, face flaming, stood and without meeting anyone’s eyes, said quietly. “Goodnight, Gentlemen.” Tipping his hat with grace, he walked soundlessly up the stairs to his room.
Chris leaned forward, voice menacing, he said, “It was a damn accident, it could have happened to any one of us. Fool horse just got between Ezra and that son-of-a-bitch cowboy. Got it? Man no more meant to shoot that horse then he would me, and nobody better forget it.”
After a pregnant pause, Chris added. “Nathan?”
“Yeah, Chris.”
“Josiah, you got it?”
“Understand what you’re saying, brother.”
“JD, you hear me?”
“I hear you, Chris. I’m sorry about Job. He was a good horse. I know Ez wouldn’t hurt him on purpose.”
“Buck you with me?”
“Never doubted it for a minute Chris.”
“Good.” Chris pushed back his chair, hard and threw his glass to the floor shattering it. “I don’t want to hear another word about it. End of story.” With that, the gunslinger strode from the saloon, bat wing doors flapping against the night.
“Could have been any one of us, but it was Ezra.” Josiah commented, gazing speculatively at the gambler’s closed door.
Vin scowled. “Thought we weren’t talking about it no more.”
JD ignored the tracker, “Yeah, but what about Chris? What’s he gonna do for a horse? Nothing decent around these parts.”
“Shit, kid, that horse cost Chris a nose full of nickels, and that’s when he was just a colt. Chris done broke him and trained him. He can’t wait for that now. Man can’t be messing with a green horse out here.”
“How’s he gonna afford a new mount?”
“Seems to me that’s Ezra’s doing,” the healer stretched tired shoulders. “He’s responsible, accident or no,” nodding at Vin. “It’s his place to make sure Chris gets a replacement. Course, take an act of God to separate that man from his money. He’ll probably weasel out of paying for it.”
“Hate to say it, Nathan, but I agree with you.”
“Heck of a day, I’m going to bed.”
“I’m with you, brother.”
Cool night air drifted in behind the two departing men.
“Guess they’re still mad at Ez.”
“Guess so, kid and I don’t think this business with Job helped any.”
“What if we all pitch in some money to help out? I got a few dollars saved.” JD suggested, looking from Vin to Buck.
“Don’t know kid, might make ‘em even madder at Ezra. Plus, I’d think the man would be able to afford it.”
JD looked at Buck with surprise. “Ezra ain’t hardly got two cents to rub together.”
“How in the hell would you know that?”
Vin sat up a bit at Buck’s question. He wanted to know that too.
“Well,” JD flushed a bit. “I overheard him at the bank the other day. I was waiting to help Mr. Shaw lock up the other day when Ezra slipped in and went into the office. He wanted to know if he wanted to buy his ruby ring. Guess he did, cause I saw Mr. Shaw wearing it and I heard Ez thank him for wiring the money.”
“Who in the hell is Ezra sending money to and why wouldn’t he just use his gambling money he won from those Indian fellows? Must have won a hundred dollars from those boys,” the ladies man puzzled.
“Cause he gave it all to Chris to give to the chief for the kids in the tribe. He said their father’s shouldn’t be gambling away food from babies’ mouths.” JD blurted. “He told Chris he cleaned ‘em out because they needed to learn a lesson, but didn’t want the kids to go hungry. Then he asked Chris not to tell Nathan and Josiah cause he didn’t want to ruin his reputation as a greedy bastard.”
Vin said, “Somethin’ else goin’ on with those three?”
“Hell if I know,” Buck shrugged. Glancing at JD, he slapped the back of the kid’s arm. “JD you look like the cat that swallowed the canary. Okay, what gives?”
“Ain’t none of my business.”
“Kid you are full of shit. Now, what else do you know?”
“Nathan and Josiah asked Ezra for money and he said no.”
“Why were they wantin’ Ezra to give ‘em money?”
“For the Indian village. Nathan told him he was selfish and Josiah said that he needed to vanquish serpents or something like that. Ezra told Nathan it was a good thing he looked after himself, cause nobody else was going to. He told Josiah he got along just fine with his serpents, how was Josiah doing with his. Then he said if those Indians wanted money, they could work for it like everybody else. That’s when it got really ugly. I thought Josiah was gonna hammer him. He pushed Ez so hard he landed on his can in the middle of the street, right in front of Mrs. Travis. Ezra just stood up, tipped his hat to her and walked off.”
The soft click of a door shutting stole through the quiet saloon.
“Where you goin’ Ez?” Vin asked blue eyes dark with concern as the freshly scrubbed gambler walked past the table.
“Patrol,” came the slow answer.
JD reached out a tentative finger, “Jeez, Ezra look at your hands.”
Ezra pulled his hands back quickly, but Vin snaked out his arm and caught his wrist in an iron grip. “Damn Ezra, ain’t no skin left on those palms. What the hell did you do?”
“Dug a grave,” the gambler answered shortly as he went to pull away.
Buck shook his head. “I’m riding patrol. You’re going to get those taken care of, right now.”
“No.”
“Damn it Ezra!”
“I said no!” the raised Southern voice did nothing to dissuade the lanky gunslinger.
“I don’t care what you said. You ain’t fit to be riding patrol.”
Every muscle in the gamester’s body slumped with the perceived censure.
Buck gently pushed Ezra down beside Vin. “Now, look pard,” he said kindly taking the wounded hands in his big paws, “These need attention. Why don’t you let Nathan…?”
The tracker piped up quickly, knowing that suggestion would be met with derision. “I got some stuff Nat give me before, Ezra, I’ll wrap ‘em up for you.”
“When I come back, I will stop by, Mr. Tanner. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
Buck and Vin’s combined effort held him in the chair. “Just say thank-you.” Vin cautioned in a no nonsense tone. “You go right back upstairs with JD and I’ll get that salve. Buck is going on patrol. Ain’t ya pard?”
Ezra sighed in defeat. Damn they were persistent. Truthfully, he was exhausted and his hands felt like they were on fire. Well, never let it be said he was not a graceful loser.
“Thank-you, Mr. Wilmington. Mr. Tanner. There’s no need for Mr. Dunne to accompany me.” Seeing the young man’s yawn, he added, “Go to bed, JD.”
Ezra tried to breath deeply as Vin poured carbolic acid over his raw hands. Dear Lord, that hurt.
The tracker winced in sympathy as he quickly applied the cooling salve. Deftly he wrapped clean linen bandages around the sores. He wished he could soothe the man’s troubled spirit as easily. The clean-shaven face was haggard in the lamplight, and the green eyes shadowed and shuttered.
“Thank-you, Mr. Tanner.”
“No problem, pard. Get some rest okay.”
“Excellent suggestion, for both of us I think.”
“Yup, morning comes early.”
“For some, perhaps.” Ezra countered with a wry grin.
Vin chuckled. Ezra was not a morning person. As he headed for the door, Vin turned around to his friend. “You know Ez, it was just an accident.”
The gamesman looked up for a moment, then dropped his eyes to the floor, unconvinced. “Accidents can be prevented.”
“Not always, Ezra. You did your best, it’s all Chris ever asks.”
Ezra swallowed against the tightening in his throat. His best? Please, Mr. Tanner, don’t you have a clue? Your best, certainly Mr. Wilmington’s best, maybe, my best? Not this side of hell would it ever begin to be enough.
Ezra just stared closely at the odd pattern on the carpet until the door closed softly behind Vin.
*******
Josiah Sanchez was an angry man, an unhappy angry man. Whack. The nail embedded a quarter inch deep in the wood and split the grain. Picturing Ezra’s face again, he drove another. Whack. It joined its brother buried in the hard oak stud. He couldn’t believe what he had done. First, he practically threw the man into the street because he would not give them any money for the Indian village. Now he just flattened the man because he would not take money from them for Chris’ new horse.
Josiah regretted both actions, but he didn’t know how in the world to explain it to Ezra. What was it about that wily gambler that made coherent thought impossible? The memory of the fleeting bewilderment in those river green eyes and the next nail made its way clean through the two-by-four.
“Might want to get shorter nails”
Josiah started guiltily. “Or thicker boards,” he grinned sheepishly at Chris. “Ezra all right?”
“Reckon he will be, in time.”
“Guess I need to work on turning the other cheek.”
“Been getting enough practice turning Ezra’s.”
Josiah nodded. He deserved the rebuke.
“Want you to lay off him.”
The preacher was surprised. It was unlike Larabee to intervene unless it had something to do with the job, especially when it came to that loose-tongued Southerner.
Chris saw the look of surprise, but didn’t care. He was worried about the reticent gamester. Like any small town, Four Corners was rife with gossip. Lately much of it concerned Standish. The lawman didn’t like its tone. Ezra was an easy target and some of the talk was cruel and spiteful. Josiah’s actions added fuel to the fire.
“I believe I need to heed your advice.” Josiah agreed and Chris swept out of the small sanctuary.
Sharpshooter and gunslinger sat quietly on the jailhouse porch. Vin was mesmerized by the smooth passage of the plait of Job’s hair through his Chris’ fingers. Almost a week had gone by without their being hide or hair of a decent replacement for the black anywhere within a day’s ride.
“Figure I better ride out tomorrow on that piece of dog meat and see what I can scare up. Head up towards Ridge City, couple of bigger ranches up that way.” Chris remarked listlessly. “Wanna come?”
“Sure.”
“You seen Ezra?”
“Nope, harder to find than a flea on a dog.”
Chris grunted with frustration. “What is the matter with that man?”
“You really askin’?”
“Hell no. Never thought I’d say this, but I miss that sorry SOB’s company. Between Ezra running to ground and Josiah and Nat sounding like two old gossips and the kid mooning around like a lovesick calf, I’m about to drop a rock on all their heads.”
“Have to find Ezra first.”
“Wish I could get it through his head. It was a frigging accident.”
“Last couple of weeks been pretty hard on him and somethin’ else been botherin’ him, you know that.”
“You think he’s thinking of leaving?”
“Sure as hell hope not.”
“Course after Josiah nailed him the other day, I can’t say as I blame him for making himself scarce.”
“Guess that’s why you sent JD, Josiah and Buck to take them prisoner’s up to the territorial prison.”
“You got it.”
“How come you didn’t send Nathan?”
“JD and Buck didn’t do anything.” Vin couldn’t help but laugh and was glad when Chris’ dry chuckle joined in.
“Judge.” Chris nodded as the man stepped up on the boardwalk.
“Have you boys seen Ezra?” He could hardly miss the worried look that passed between the two men.
“No, why?” Chris asked bluntly.
“He’s not in trouble, if that’s what you’re asking. Well, not from me anyway.”
“What do you mean, Judge, not from you.”
“Well,” the Judge leaned his graying frame against the roof pole. “He asked me to buy some of his books. It sounded like he was pretty desperate.”
“Why would Ez sell his books?” Vin was dismayed. Maybe his friend was thinking of leaving.
“I have no idea.” Judge Travis shook his head. “Man was almost begging.
*******
Ezra sighed in exasperation. He counted the money again. Even with the money the Judge paid him yesterday for his personal library, he was still woefully short. Maybe he should have taken the money from JD and the others. The bruises on his face weren’t reassuring. It had been insulting. Good grief, the four of them practically ganged up on him. What did they think? Hell, he knew exactly what they thought. Not one of them understood his dilemma. He would pay his debt if it were the last thing he did.
The twenty-five measly dollars crumpled in the middle of his bed was not enough to pay for a decent mount. It was every cent he had in the world. Not a single good game had come his way in the past month. Unless, of course, you counted that ridiculous fiasco with those damn Indians.
Pulling out his watch, Ezra sighed. The timepiece was his single inheritance from his father. Must be another way. Seeing the hands creep towards the hour, he gathered his hat and coat and made his way to relieve Nathan at the jail. Hopefully, he could escape exchanging any harsh words with the man. This whole business was getting mighty old.
Nathan was surprised to see the gambler. Early. Rats. The healer wanted to be gone before the man showed up. His ears were still burning from Vin’s invective. Worse, he knew the pragmatic tracker was right.
“Morning, Ezra.”
“Mr. Jackson.”
Cool Southern tones did nothing to dispel the heat of the healer’s embarrassment.
“Should be quiet around here until the stage gets in about one.”
“Yes.”
“See you later.”
“Good-day.” Mercy that went well, at least there was no heated exchange.
The morning crept towards afternoon. Ezra stood up for the fiftieth time. Nothing held his attention. Surely there was a solution to this conundrum; just had to figure out what it was.
“Mr. Standish, telegram.” Ezra stared at the thing as if it was a pit viper. Dear Lord. No, this was not good news.
Digging into his pocket, he tipped the boy. “Thank-you Jimmy.” The boy ran off and Ezra slowly unfolded the thin piece of paper.
Ezra Standish STOP Four Corners STOP
Come quickly STOP Dr. Quinn STOP Colorado Springs STOP
Bob Miller, Operator
Days, it would take days to get there. Lord, please don’t let me be too late. Ezra whispered the plea as he headed for the Clarion at a run.
“Mrs. Travis, is the Judge here?”
Mary took in the pale visage and answered quickly. “He’s in the kitchen.”
“Thank-you.”
Curiosity almost made her listen in, but good breeding deemed otherwise.
Handing the Judge the telegram, Ezra laid out the brutal truth for the man. “I do not have the funds to make it to Colorado Springs. If I hurry, I can make the stage today. Chaucer will be a guarantee as well as my other belongings.”
The Judge called his daughter-in-law. “Mary, I’m stepping out for a little while.” Clasping the gamesman’s shoulder he ushered him out the door. “Come on son, there’s no time to waste. You get your gear and I’ll get your tickets. I’ll meet you at the stage.”
As Ezra clambered aboard the stagecoach, he turned to shake the Judge’s hand. “Thank-you sir. You are most gracious to lend your assistance. Please assure Mr. Larabee that I will return as soon as I am able.” Hesitating slightly, he added, “I’d appreciate it if you would keep this between you and I.”
Orrin was saddened by the request but agreed readily, trying to ease the man’s way. “Send news as soon as you get there. Let us know if we can do anything.”
“Sir, you have done more than should be expected. I am in your debt.”
“Nonsense, I am glad to help. I am only sorry about the circumstances. All the best to your mother, Ezra. I hope the situation is not as dire as you fear.”
“As do I, sir, as do I.”
*******
The trip to Colorado Springs passed in a haze. He should have been dazzled by the alizarin crimson, vibrant gold and pulsating orange leaf colors nestled against the piney evergreen backdrop. The crisp air should tickle his lungs and the rich scents of falling leaves baste him with their aroma. Surely, the sparkling bubbling streams and brilliant blue sky deserved at least a nod but everything he looked at reminded him of his mother.
The vibrant gold of the aspens was his mother’s hair, whispering around her head like a misplaced halo. The red of the sugar maples were her lips pressed in affection to his cheek. The cool breeze was her soft breath floating down on his tussled hair as they sat together reading in the porch swing. The babbling brooks sang the song of her laugh and the cerulean sky rivaled the blue of her eyes.
Mother. By the time he climbed wearily down from the stage in the rustic town, he was numb with fear.
He found the doctor’s clinic easily enough. An attractive woodsman was lounging on the porch. He reminded Ezra so much of Vin that he was blindsided by an almost overwhelming desire to see his friend. He had no name for the feeling that flooded his eyes; homesickness begs the question of a home.
Introductions made, Ezra found out that the gentleman was one Byron Sully, the good doctor’s fiancé. His mind reeled a bit with that tidbit, but he wasn’t a superb poker player for nothing.
In any case, he was much too anxious to care. The doctor was a lovely and warm woman about his age. She had a direct approach that he found refreshing, although her news left him aching with sorrow.
In short order he found himself standing at his mother’s bedside. It was not a place he ever wished to be. He could not begin to catalogue the emotions that assailed him. Sweet Lord, this was every bit as hard as he imagined.
Maude was dying. That was obvious. His heart twisted that the vibrant woman was reduced to this pain wracked, pale imitation of the vivacious woman he knew.
The smile was the same. The eyes just as true even clouded with the agony of death.
“Hello, darling.”
Ezra blinked rapidly trying to get the words out of his closed throat.
“Mother.”
“I’m sorry you have to see me like this, Ezra.”
He took her hand and sank down in the chair beside her. The flesh was cool and he felt the delicate bones through the translucent skin. He had no words for this.
“I asked Michaela not to send for you, but she did.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Son.”
He dragged his eyes to hers. He knew she saw his hurt. She’d be disappointed in him, again.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Ezra and I knew this would. You’ve always were such a tender hearted little boy. You are so like your father. My two sweet men. I’m glad you’re here, son. I really didn’t want to die without telling you good-bye, she knew that.”
“Mother, I…”
“Hush! I need to talk to you. There’s not much time. I have only loved two things in my whole life. One was your father. God knows how I loved that man. He was the sun and all the heavenly hosts. When he was killed all the light went out of my world. He was everything good and right. For a long time I believed that was why he died.”
Knives of memory shredded the veil across his heart.
“I was so angry, Ezra. I hated you. I blamed you but his death was never, ever your fault, son. You are so like him. Every time I look at you, I see your father. I never wanted to feel that pain of loss ever again. So, I cast you aside, knowing you needed me. I turned my back on everything your father believed in and I tried to teach you to do the same.”
He furrowed his brow, what was she saying? Of course his father’s death was his fault. She must be delirious.
“And still through all the times I walked away from you, every betrayal, every desertion, you have stood by me. I can’t comprehend this depth of devotion. It is a legacy from your father. I have lied...hurt…” Huge tears streamed down the alabaster cheeks. Her hand clutched at his fingers, frightening him with the violence of her passion.
“I can only hope and pray that you believe me when I tell you just how much I love you. I’m so sorry for all the wasted, hurtful times, can you forgive me?”
No, I cannot give you absolution. I am the guilty one, I am the one who broke all your dreams. Heart pounding in his throat, he looked away from those piercing eyes. He began to breathe quickly as if running a long distance.
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Ezra, don’t lie to your mother. I hurt you and I know it.” She drew his eyes to hers once more.
Yes, but…. His chest heaved with the effort. This was so overwhelming. Could he really give her what she so needed?
“Of course, I …, you’re forgiven.”
“I want you to make me a promise, Ezra.”
“Anything.” Ezra tried valiantly to keep the moisture walled behind his eyes and could say no more.
“Live the life your father would have wanted you to have. You have made a start with that motley crew you work with. I like those men, Ezra they’re good for you, and I think you’re good for them. I was wrong about you wasting your God-given talents. Make your father proud.”
You’re asking the impossible. No, no, no, his heart screamed in denial while his lips moved of their own accord.
“I promise.”
“Thank-you, son. Now please send in Reverend Johnson. He’s a good friend.”
*******
Chris looked at the Judge in frustration. “What do you mean it’s confidential?”
“You heard me Chris. The man has a right to his privacy.”
“Not if it leaves us short-handed.”
“It was important. I freely gave him leave to go. If you want to know any more than what I am telling you, you’re going to figure it out for yourselves.” Orrin hoped that the group could put their heads together and maybe be there in time for Ezra, but he wouldn’t betray the confidence. It was up to them.
Slapping his gloves against his thigh in frustration, Chris told Buck. “Get everybody together in the jail in five minutes. We’re gonna find that damn gambler. If he thinks he can just sashay out of here without a word to one of us, he has another thing coming. Confidential, my ass.”
JD burst into the saloon, pride and distress battling for position on his youthful countenance.
“Got it right here boys, here’s the answer.” He threw the yellow operators copy of the telegram on the table.
“Where’d you get this?” Chris picked up the paper and frowned at JD. No one else had been able to make the slightest headway in tracking down that slippery gamesman. Oh, everybody knew he’d left town, but nobody seemed to know where he went and why.
“I, um, well,” he stammered. Chris was not happy.
“You have absolutely no business with this, you know that. Bob could be fired from his job. What in the hell are you thinking?”
“Well, technically he is the sheriff, that ought to count for something.” Josiah commented trying to pour some oil on troubled waters. Chris had been like a bear with a sore toe ever since he came back from another futile horse search to find Nathan guarding the town solo, apparently with the acquiescence of Judge Travis.
“Josiah’s got a point.” Buck told his old friend.
“Done already took it, might as well see what it says.” Vin mused quietly.
Chris shot him a ‘not you too’ look fingering the folded paper thoughtfully between his fingers. “You read this already?”
JD nodded.
“He in trouble?”
“No, just read it Chris.”
Hum, their pup was growing teeth. He approved. What the hell. He unfolded the contraband and perused its contents. Too short to really answer most of their questions, but it would have to do. Without comment, he handed it around the table. Even Vin’s rudimentary reading skills made out the terse message.
“We going?” JD asked. He was already mentally preparing for the trip. Everyone looked at Chris expectantly
“Can’t all go.” Chris looked around at the men. He had no doubt each of them would want to make the journey, but they had obligations.
Mentally, he examined his choices. Nathan should stay. The town depended on him for more than just peacekeeping. Vin should go. In some quirky way, the squirrelly plainsman and cagey gambler had formed an eccentric friendship.
“I’ll stay Chris. Let JD go.” Buck’s offer surprised him. No, not really, seeing the kid was ready to mount up and ride out. Kindred souls, those two: loyal, steadfast, and dependable.
That left Josiah and himself. He could see that the old preacher wanted to go. Good reasons to send him too, but they couldn’t both go. That would leave Buck and Nathan woefully open to trouble. Damn.
Josiah wrestled with his desires. He’d yet to make amends to Ezra for his recent actions but guilt was not a good reason to go. Didn’t necessarily help Ezra either. In any case, the gunslinger would be awful to live with. A sudden insight dashed into his mind and demanded he take notice. Their lean leader had been noticeably more irritable lately. Josiah had put it down to Job’s loss. Now as his thoughts roved over the last few weeks, he realized that Ezra had been conspicuously missing. How could he have missed the connection? It was so obvious that he hadn’t seen it. Decision made.
“Brother, I will stay with Nathan and Buck. We’ll handle things here, don’t you worry. Just bring him home safe and sound.” Standing he said, “I need to go get you some things to give to Ezra.”
“Okay,” Chris said. “JD and Vin, we’ll meet in an hour at the livery. We got at least another six or seven hours of daylight. Let’s go.”
*******
The three men pushed hard. With any luck, they should get into Colorado Springs less than three days after the gambler. Chris gave up on that appalling excuse for horseflesh and rode Chaucer. JD insisted that they bring the chestnut; in fact, he had proved intractable on the point. The gunslinger was glad. The horse was as temperamental as his owner was and just as smooth. Chris missed Job terribly, but at least Chaucer had heart. His rented mount had been relegated to packhorse two and seemed content. The dry chuckle broke the still mountain air.
“Guess Chaucer doesn’t do menial labor any more than Ez.” Chris met Vin’s laughing blue eyes.
“Nope, he didn’t take too kindly to lugging rice and beans.”
JD piped up, “Might have been that elk, its hide clashed with his coat. We all know how Chaucer feels about appearances.”
Their laughter followed them into the foothills of southern Colorado.
*******
Unlike the long twilight of the desert, night fell suddenly in the mountains. Surrounding peaks were bathed in an unearthly glow, but the valley was dark. Red-rimmed eyes took in the phenomenon while his ears measured the minutes by the rasping hesitant whisper of breath from the woman on the bed.
Agony couldn’t begin to describe what Maude went through during that long, long day. The doctor gave her as much morphine as she could without killing her. Ezra was beginning to think that wouldn’t be so bad. His nerves were snapping one by one like the strings of an overwrought cello.
The blind minister came and offered readings and prayers with his mother. Ezra was astounded. Maude rejected God when his father was killed. Lies, lies, and damn lies she told him. Apparently the soft-spoken ex-gambler preacher struck a chord with the irascible con woman. He heard the echoes of his father in the passages that she asked for; most were Peyton Standish’s favorites.
“Mr. Standish?” he turned to see the doctor at his elbow. “Any moment now.” Her hand on his arm was gentle. “Time to say good-bye. We’ll be outside if you need us.”
Ezra moved to the still, suffering woman. Her eyes were still bright but the time between breaths was getting longer and longer.
“Mother?” his dulcet tenor was husky with sorrow.
Maude looked at her only child in the dim lamplight. She memorized every nuance of his face. The fall of deep auburn hair on the smooth forehead. Clear peridot eyes, so like Peyton’s. High cheekbones of a Cherokee heritage that he had yet to learn of and the mobile mouth, so quick to smile. Remembering the day the mid-wife had laid him in her arms. How the years had flown. She could see her husband thrilled beyond belief with his little boy.
“Our boy is fine, Peyton. You’d like him. Your heart still beats in him, love. He’s still your son.”
“Mama,” Ezra breathed hard, trying to stay calm.
“We had so many plans for you, so many dreams. It wasn’t at all the way I thought it’d be. You’ve a home now, Ezra. I imagine you where you’ve always wanted most to be. I believe someday I’ll see your face again. Love you, Ezra P.”
His father’s endearment was Ezra’s undoing.
“I love you, Mama,” he whispered.
Maude reached up and touched the glimmering drops gracing the silky cheeks and her lips curved into a ghost of a smile as she thought, my softhearted boy. Her hand slipped back to the bed. She felt the weight of her child resting upon her chest. It brought her comfort. Gently, the once restless soul crept towards her rest as the husk of the lifeless body fell behind.
Ezra knew. He felt the life waft away as smoke on the breeze. He pressed his head to his mother’s breast listening to the final beat of a heart he loved. It was still.
“Mama?”
He waited a long time, but there was no more life left.
The ache grew and Ezra was unaware that the moon had risen to its place. He straightened the bedcovers and composed his mother’s hands carefully over her motionless heart. He washed the lax features and smoothed the limp hair. Then he sat beside her bedside and stared without seeing into the dark night.
“I wish you didn’t have go. Are you with Daddy? I want to come, too.”
The
silent tears ran down his face dripping on the subdued hands. Ezra Standish
kept the midnight watch over his dead. Alone and in utter silence.
 HOME
|
On
to Part 2
|
AUTHOR:
Tess
DISCLAIMER: The following is an original work of fan
fiction based on the television series The Magnificent Seven.
No infringement upon the copyrights held by TNN, CBS, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment
Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production
is intended. I promise to consider returning them when I am done.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Mary, verb-smith extraordinaire
- thank you ever so much!
RATINGS: PG-13
WARNINGS: DEATHFIC! Death of supporting characters. Language/Violence.
Spoilers too numerous to mention.
NOTES: I admit to an uncommon fondness for our resident confidence
man. Angst, h/c and smarm ahead. Names of horses come from various
sources, I believe Kristin originated Chaucer. Jet is my choice.
Characters from Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman make guest appearances.
Generous thoughts, ideas, suggestions? Send those to the address
below.
EMAIL: tlshaffer1@comcast.net
