The
Pit
By Heather F.
"Come on Ezra
hurry up," JD exclaimed impatiently from the saloon batwing doors. The
gambler ignored the youngster sipping carefully on his coffee. "Buck’s
coming with the horses," Dunne announced as he peered down the dusty main
thoroughfare. Standish merely nodded his head in agreement. Jackson, Sanchez,
Tanner and Larabee smiled as they continued to eat
their breakfasts undisturbed.
The early summer sun
had only come up a few minutes ago. Already the day was proving to be a scorcher.
Vin eyed the gambler. Standish had not dressed in his
normally formal colorful clothing, but adorned a regular white shirt, no vest
and his brown rough turn out coat. His green eyes usually sharp and clear
appeared dull and half hooded. The tracker smiled. Standish only saw morning’s when he pulled
himself from the gaming tables to retire to bed.
"You better get
going Ezra; JD over there is going to go into fits," Sanchez intoned
amused. Like the others he enjoyed the early morning quietness, Standish on the
other hand had never met a morning he liked.
Standish rubbed his
head, mussing his hair, appearances must not be important in the wee hours of
the morning.
"Hey lets
go!!" Buck’s voice boomed from outside the saloon. Larabee
chuckled when Standish closed his eyes and sighed pushing himself from the
table.
The other four men
watched and listened as the three others left the area. Inez brought more
coffee over to the table.
Vin spoke up, "geez
Ezra looked rough this morning." The tracker wondered how someone could
stay up all night and then do it all over again the next night.
"Must have
indulged in the wrong spirits last night," Josiah added. Standish did not
normally drink heavily, not like the others. His profession demanded that he
keep a sharp mind and on more than one occasion quicker reflexes.
"Senior
Standish retired early last evening," Inez intoned as she poured coffee
into the empty and half empty mugs.
"Early this
morning you mean." Nathan corrected.
The spirited saloon
keeper smiled tolerantly, she knew her own mind and what she meant,
"No. Just after dinner with you
last night, he went to bed." She finished topping off the mugs ignoring
the inquisitive silence that was directed at her. Without meeting anyone’s eyes
and picking up Ezra’s untouched breakfast plate she added, "He turned down
a game and went to bed." With that Inez cleared some breakfast things and
smoothly left for the kitchen. The others glanced at each other and shrugged.
"Nathan nail
him down when he gets back find out if he’s feeling okay," Larabee directed the healer, and then on second thought
added, "You better have Josiah help ya." Chris kept his thoughts inward. With the
impending arrival of the Terrell gang, he needed all his men on their toes.
Chris had no doubt that Buck, JD’s and Ezra’s excursion to the abandon mine
would return them in time to prepare for the potential confrontation of the
hard riding gang of bank thieves.
Buck and JD rode
side by side with Standish’s chestnut gelding dogging lazily behind. Standish
laughed quietly to himself as he listened to bits and pieces of the constant
bickering between the two in front of him. The gambler had removed his heavy
course work coat earlier in the ride but now he wiggled back into it. It seemed
odd to feel cool when the sun beat down on them. He wondered tiredly if he were
coming down with a cold. Not likely. He
was not one to get sick -- nothing a good night’s rest could not cure.
"We’ll ask Ezra
he’d know." Standish heard JD challenge.
"Well
Ezra?" Buck asked both men turning in their saddles facing the gambler
expectantly.
Standish pulled from
his own private musing smiled confidently, "Excuse me gentlemen what is
you think I know?"
"Geez Ezra weren’t you paying attention?" JD asked with
exasperation. Sometimes the young sheriff wondered how Standish could be so
observant but not follow a simple conversation.
"I apologize Mr.Dunne but my thoughts
must have strayed from your engrossing dialogue with Mr. Wilmington
there." Standish laid his wrists lazily over the saddle horn matching the
gazes of the two men in front of him.
JD threw Buck a
questioning glance.
Buck sighed,
"He says we’re boring."
"Oh no quite
the contrary Mr. Wilmington I am constantly amazed how you two gentlemen can
carry on for so long and not truly say anything important." Standish’s
dimpled smile spread mischievously across his clean shaven features softening
his words. Buck chuckled. He had been worried,
Standish had been quiet all morning.
Buck started to think he was coming down with something. Apparently not.
"Who wrote ‘The
Three Musketeers’?"
This took the conman
by surprise and he did a double take on the two men. "You’re kidding. You
two have read ‘The Three Musketeers’?"
Without skipping a
beat both JD and Buck stared at the gambler like he had lost his mind and both
shook their heads. "No,"
articulating their answer at the same time.
"Then why do
care who penned the story?"
"Told you he
wouldn’t know," Buck stated. Turning an ‘I told you so
expression’ to the boy. JD let out a sigh of disappointment,
he really thought Ezra would know. The gambler knew a lot about books.
"Of course I
do, Alexander Dumas. He also wrote ‘The Man in the Iron Mask’," Standish
added with practiced patience. Those two never ceased to amaze him, it was good practice for his neutral expression. JD
threw Buck a triumphant smile.
_________________________________
They rode a few more
hours. Standish had peeled off his coat again only to put it back on later.
They finally reached the mouth of the old mine. JD leapt off his horse with
barely contained excitement. Buck tethered his horse to a near by tree and
joined his young friend at the entrance lighting torches. Standish tied Chaucer
and patted it’s neck tenderly leaning slightly into
the horse, the gambler’s legs and back ached tiredly.
"Gawd ole friend I feel lousy." Chaucer munched quietly
on grass -- Standish knew his horse would never give up his secret.
"Come on
Ezra!!" JD yelled. Standish gave Chaucer one more affectionate pat and made
his way over to his friends.
They entered the darkened
mine; the bright sunlight quickly swallowed by the ever foreboding mine shafts.
At first the dirt floor ran level and then it began to slope upward. The large
support beams seemed to have weathered the effects of time fairly well.
The mine did not go
very deep or very high. Many tunnels had been started only to be abandoned. The
mine had not been fruitful and so it to had been abandoned. The threesome
explored it for a few hours. JD pelted them endlessly with questions. It took
two of them to keep up with JD’s energy. Being born and city raised, Dunne had
little experience or knowledge in the working of mines. He had assumed the
others being older and more experienced would know all there was to mining.
Buck and Ezra filled in the gaps of information, on mining. Both men were pleasantly
surprised that together they had a fairly good working knowledge on the ways of
mining and mining tools. If JD had not been there to find excitement behind
every turn or in every piece of run down or discarded tool then the trip would
have been a colossal waste of time. Instead Dunne entertained the two men while
he explored and investigated this new world. Wide eyed, moving and talking
excitedly. Buck held back and spoke to Ezra.
"He’s having a
ball,"
"It’s good to
see him behaving like a kid should," Standish intoned a little wistfully.
Buck threw a
sidelong glance at the gambler.
"No money or
glory to be had here boys." Buck whispered his voice vibrating off the
walls.
"We best be
getting back." The two men strode past the gambler who leaned tiredly
against one of the walls. They headed toward the entrances and back to their
horses.
When they exited the
mine the sun had already started down from it’s
zenith, late afternoon had descended.
"Shoot Chris is
expecting us by night fall." JD uttered. It had taken them nearly three
and a half hours to get to the mine.
"We’ll be back
in time," Buck reassured. Dunne hoped Buck was right,
he did not want Chris to worry about them worse yet get mad at them.
JD led his horse
across the small clearing, Ezra right behind him followed by Buck. Ezra was not
paying attention too much around himself, his muscles ached and a chill had
settled in his bones. He had removed his coat again, and now thought about
putting it back on. He stopped. Chaucer,
gauging his master’s body language, had stopped as well without being asked and
avoided bumping him. Standish was about to turn around when he heard JD scream.
Ezra watched as Dunne at first slowly
and then rapidly began to disappear from view. Without thinking Standish dove
for the outstretched hands, as JD vanished beneath the grassy clearing. Ezra’s hands clasped around JD’s hands. Suddenly Ezra found
himself sliding forward being pulled by JD’s weight down a dark narrow hole. JD’s screams were muffled as he disappeared
from sight, dragging the gambler with him.
"Buck!!!"
Ezra screamed as his head and shoulders slid over the edge and started down the
narrow black shaft. Then like an answered prayer, something solid grabbed the
gambler’s left ankle.
"Hold on."
Ezra heard Buck gasp.
Buck watched
horrified as the ground disappeared from underneath JD. One second the kid was
standing there and the next he was gone. Ezra dove and grabbed the out reaching
hands, everything halted for only a split second and then Standish began
sliding toward the hole’s edge with increasing
acceleration.
Buck dug in,
switching his position, he scrambled around cautiously
and dug his heels into the earth before him. Ezra’s upper body was no longer
visible. Buck leaned back bracing his boot heels in the dirt and began to pull
back. Standish felt himself get stretched out. In the inky blackness the
gambler could not even see the top of JD’s head. Standish felt his upper body get pulled over the lip of the shaft.
‘This is it’ he had
thought, until Buck grabbed his ankle. Then everything stopped.
"Buck?" It
was a small frightened voice. JD’s voice.
"It’s ok JD, Mr. Wilmington has a firm grasp of me." Ezra tried
to reassure the boy. Then the unthinkable happened. Ezra’s foot began to slip
from the boot. Slowly at first, Ezra tried to arch his foot to hold it in the
boot. He felt Buck desperately shift his grip, he must
have realized what was happening also. It was all to no avail. JD sensed he
still descended into the black unknowns depths of the hole, as did Ezra and
both screamed, "Buck!!!" when Standish’s foot slid free of the boot.
Both men fell.
Buck grasped
fiercely to the boot, he felt Ezra’s foot start to slip and readjusted his
hold.
The clearing now
stood in relative quiet. The horses had shied away from the hole that Buck now
lay beside very much alone, no evidence of the other two men. Buck climbed to
the edge of the shaft and tried seeing down to the bottom, but the thick
darkness stopped him only a few feet below the surface.
"JD!!! Kid,
can you hear me?!!"
Ezra and JD landed
with a splash. Entangled as they were the gambler was surprised they weren’t
killed. The shock of the icy water threw the con man immediately to his feet.
He stumbled a few steps and fell backward onto his butt hitting his head
against the mucky clay walls.
Standish sat for a
brief moment soaking up the cold and pain and then a panicky "JD?" No
response. "Oh shit." Ezra began searching under the water on his
hands and knees, wiping his hands in large arching motions. He hit a something
hairy and solid. Ezra grabbed a fist full of JD’s dark hair and hauled the
kid’s head above the surface. Standish heard Buck calling for JD but the gambler
ignored him for now. Ezra quickly checked for a pulse and sighed audibly when
he found it beating strong and steady. Ezra turned his attention upward and
could make out the silhouette of Buck against the afternoon sky. "He’s alive Buck," Standish shouted.
Buck winced at the
gambler’s use of his first name. Standish only addressed people informally in
dire situations. Problem was Ezra’s idea of a dire situation normally meant
Nathan Jackson would be kept very busy or a funeral would need arranging for
someone.
"He
okay, Ezra?" Buck
waited impatiently. "Well?"
An irritated answer
erupted back up at him, "how the hell should I know, He’s breathing and
has a pulse."
Standish heard
He heard
"Jeeezuz, Ezra, why the hell don’t you carry a rope on your
saddle!! You too much of a gentleman to be of any help to anyone.!!"
Buck yelled down in frustration. He regretted it the second the words slipped
past his lips. This was not the gambler’s fault. Standish gritted his teeth
against
"Ezra?" Buck again, gentler tone.
"Give me a
second Mr. Wilmington." The cool reply. Buck shut
his eyes.
"Come on
JD." Ezra slapped the young man’s slack features. A
groan and slight movement. "JD wake
up!" Ezra slapped the boy again, harder. Standish cringed.
"Buck?" It
was weak and mumbled. "No, JD, it’s Ezra. Wake
up, I need your help." In a few minutes Dunne began to move around in
earnest. He moved his broken leg and cried out.
"JD!!" Buck yelled down.
"Buck!" JD
cried back, trying to stand up. Standish held him still. "Easy,
Mr. Dunne. I’ll get you reunited
with your keeper if you just keep still."
"JD quit moving
around and listen to Ezra." Buck shouted down as
he heard the sounds of an increasing struggle.
"What have you
got planned Ezra?" Buck asked.
Ezra ignored Buck
for now and directed his attention back to the sheriff. "JD you have to
sit on my shoulders and put that rope around yourself and then Buck will haul
you up. Okay?" The gambler waited for the boy to answer. "You ready?" Ezra could just make
out the imperceptible nod. "Good, now this is going to hurt, but it will
be over in a few minutes, okay?"
JD answered by
carefully pulling himself up onto his one leg. Standish had no idea how they
were going to pull this off until he spotted the ledge. It was more like a
small shelf, a foot above the water. Ezra led JD over and sat him on the ledge.
From there JD easily
slid onto the con man’s shoulders. Using the wall as a guide Ezra carefully straightened
out. Gritting his teeth he waded through the mid thigh water to the dangling
rope. JD fitted the loop around his shoulders.
"Mr. Wilmington,
are you ready to effect our young Mr. Dunne from his
captivity?" Ezra breathed out.
Standish sighed when
he heard Buck answer, "Hold on a second."
"Please, Mr.
Wilmington, not too long," Ezra whispered to himself, his legs shaking
from the cold and weight.
Then
a distant, "Okay."
Slowly the weight
left the gamblers shoulders and JD was eased back to the surface. Ezra peered
up and watched as Buck grabbed the youngster and pulled him to safety. Standish
smiled.
Buck greedily
grabbed a fistful of JD’s soaked shirt and hauled the kid out of the shaft. He
dragged him clear of the opening avoiding any chance he should slip back down
it. "You okay kid?" Buck took quick inventory of Dunne. Blood adorned
the side of his head and face. His eyes were dilated and a bewildered
expression covered his face. "You hurt anywhere?"
"My leg, I
think I broke my leg." Dunne shivered uncontrollably. Buck easily
recognized the signs of shock and stripped the young man of his wet shirt. He
did not dare mess with the leg.
"You think you
can ride?"
"Yeah , but what about Ezra?"
"Shit,
Ezra." Buck reflexively peered back at the near invisible hole in the ground
and then back at the boy, "You just sit tight." He took a few furtive
steps away from the boy and said, "Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right
back." JD would have normally been very annoyed but he could not understand
half of what Buck was saying.
Standish chuckled
dryly, "I’ve gathered that, Mr. Wilmington. And what
about my emancipation?" Ezra shivered it was cold down here in the
hole and his shoulder started to hurt persistently.
"I don’t have a
second rope. I don’t know how else to get you out. JD’s hurt pretty
badly."
Ezra held his
breath, his fear reaching new heights. He trembled, oh gawd
please don’t do this to me, he pleaded silently. He
heard, as if from a nightmare as Buck continued, "I’ve got to get the
others. I’ve got to leave you. You gunna be okay?"
Standish slumped
back against the wall, his legs quaking, oh no, oh no, don’t do this please
don’t leave me down here, please get me out of here.
Buck waited for a
reply, "Ezra?"
"Of course Mr.
Wilmington, I won’t be going anywhere. Take care of your young charge."
Buck missed the empty resignation, and lack of hope.
"You just hold
on Ezra, I’ll be back, right quick. I promise." Buck quickly left the edge
of the hole satisfied all was well with the gambler and went to JD. The boy was
hurt bad.
Standish watched
Buck leave the edge of the hole. His heart sank with panicky despair.
"Sure," he
muttered and made his way over to the small ledge and lifted himself up on it.
At least he was out of the water. He heard Buck wrestle JD onto the saddle and
then horse hooves striking the ground at a quick walk.
"Hold on Ezra
I’ll be back for ya."
Standish smiled
sadly and shivered. His mom used to say the same thing. Then the chills hit in
earnest.
Buck rode his
gelding as quickly as he dared. He leaned JD back against his chest holding him
fast with his arm. Dunne had drifted in and out throughout the whole ride but
never truly thrashed about. The broken leg hung painfully against the side of
the horse.
___________________________________
Four hours later,
The terrain was
tough and offered very little cover to anyone trying to sneak in unobserved, therefore the like of the Terrells
would avoid it. The sun had set and the sky had slowly begun to darken. JD felt
himself get pulled off the saddle, and then nothing.
Buck kicked open the
back door of the saloon he came face to face with Josiah Sanchez’s weapons.
"Whoa hold on, Josiah, it’s just me," Buck soothed as he deposited
his burden in the relative safety behind the bars.
"Good way to
get yourself killed, Buck," Josiah hissed going
back to his vantage point by the batwing doors.
"Where’s
Ezra?" Sanchez asked between shots.
"We ran into
some trouble."
"JD okay?"
"I don’t know,
broke leg and hit his head."
"Chris is over
by the Merc with Nathan. Vin is in the bell
tower." Josiah answered tightly squeezing the trigger again. The Terrell
gang numbered in six total but two littered the
street. The other four found themselves pinned down near the bank.
They were not ones
to give up, but nor were the peacekeepers of the
"Oh I think we
will" Came the reply. Then an opportunity
presented itself to Vin and a rifle shot rang out and
soon a third body riddled the street.
"I think not
brother." Josiah muttered from the safety of the saloon.
"What’d ya say we call it a night, and you
boys surrender," Buck called out from the saloon. He had checked on JD a
few minutes ago, the boy shivered and mumbled incoherently. He really needed
Nathan.
Chris heard Buck’s
voice and wondered where JD and Ezra were. He had not heard the distinctive
sounds of Dunne’s colts or Ezra’s remingtons.
What the heck was going on? Another shot rang out nicking the wood at the
saloon entrance, causing both Josiah and Buck to involuntarily wince. Chris’s
guns rang out and a fourth body fell to the street. Two left.
"All
right. All
right. We’re coming out. Just hold your fire!" There was a pregnant
pause.
"Well then git on out here." Buck shouted impatiently. Larabee noticed the edge in voice something was wrong. JD
had to be hurt. The two outlaws threw down their guns and hesitantly raised
themselves up from behind their cover. Josiah, Chris and Nathan converged on
the two surrendering men. Buck saw the healer. "Nathan!!" This got
everyone’s attention but Chris’s who held his gun trained on the two men. The
healer quickly made his way over to the ladies man. Buck disappeared inside
knowing
"Nathan
over here. JD’s been
hurt," Buck said from behind the bar.
"What happened?"
"He fell down a
shaft of some kind."
"Let’s get him
up to the clinic," Nathan said standing and already heading over to his
small place. Buck gently gathered the boy up in his arms, he could feel the
fever already, and hurried after Nathan.
Buck paced nervously
outside on the second story porch as Josiah and Nathan worked on JD. Chris and Vin joined him once the prisoners were settled behind bars.
"Buck what’s
going on?" Vin asked as he climbed the stairs two
at a time.
"JD fell down
an air shaft or something. Busted his leg and hit his head." Before he
could continue Nathan and Josiah opened the door and stepped out. They were
both sweating. It proved to be an even hotter evening. "How is he?"
Buck asked nervously if anything happened to the kid, he’d never forgive
himself. The others knew this as well so Nathan put on his best reassuring
smile.
"He’s gonna be fine, We splinted the
leg, the bump to the head doesn’t appear to bad, just needs to be kept warm.
He’ll be up and bothersome by tomorrow."
Everyone breathed a
sigh of relief. JD was like a little brother. Finally Josiah asked as he
surveyed the group, "Where’s Ezra?"
The color drained
from
"Oh
god Ezra. We’ve got to
get Ezra, I forgot. I just forgot."
"Ezra he’s
still down in the hole. The rope wouldn’t reach him. He had to lift JD up to it
and then I hauled him out. But Ezra couldn’t reach it. I promised him I’d be
back right away."
As Nathan ran passed
the Clarion, he grabbed Mary, "could you keep an eye on JD. He’s upstairs.
Please I’ve got to go." He offered no more explanation and Mrs. Travis
merely nodded with confidence. Of course.
The five men
galloped out of town their horses knowing the first part of the trail making
traveling in the moon light at that speed dangerous but an acceptable risk.
____________________________________
Ezra shivered and
huddled closer the damp wall bringing his knees up to his chest. He dozed and
jerked awaked and dozed again. In the beginning he had been hungry and cold but
now he was just cold. Standish gazed around the small cavern he found himself
in and sighed. He had tried to climb out earlier. Almost made
it too. His hands had hungrily grabbed at the dried out meadow grass
that circled the entrance of the hole but as he searched for a suitable hand
hold to pull himself out, his footing crumbled and he crashed back to the
cavern’s watery bottom. His shoulder had given out and no matter how hard he
tried no matter how determined he was he could not raise his arm over his head.
Standish rubbed absently at the back of his head. He found a sore spot and
grimaced. How’d that happen? Standish sat on the ledge waiting.
Waiting for who?
He dozed off again
only to waken shortly after. It had become pitch black in the hole. Even when he gazed up at the entrance he
found only more blackness, and some stars. How’d he end up here? Chills racked
his body. He stared at his surroundings, and his muddled mind finally grasped
what was happening.
He was back in his
uncle’s pit.
Ezra hated the pit.
His uncle would throw him in there whenever the boy misbehaved and beating him
was not enough. Ezra’s definition of misbehaving did not match or fall into the
same realm as his bible toting reverend of an uncle. So whenever young Ezra was
caught practicing with his deck of cards or reading something other than the
bible, into the pit he went. Standish hated his Uncle and dreaded the dark cold
confines of the earthly prison. Sometimes they left him there alone for hours
one time a whole day, because they forgot about him. Each time they hauled him
out very weak , cold and hungry, and then the sermons
started. They would drive the devil out of him or so, they would tell young
Standish. Ezra would only close his eyes and wonder when his mother would keep
her promise and come get him.
Ezra slid sideways
on the ledge and drifted off. Chills rattled his body. He hated his uncle and
cousins.
____________________________________
The five men let
their horses pick their way down the narrow wooded path. The windy path opened
into the small innocuous appearing clearing. The men were tense and the horses
sensed it. The clear night sky held an infinite number of stars of early
morning, the full moon now hung on the horizon. ‘Thank God for the full moon,"
thought Vin Tanner, as he dismounted his wild colored red paint. He heard the
others dismount and watched as their silhouettes moved about tethering horses
to trees. The silence was almost deafening. The sounds of the night became
still replaced by the quiet breathing and stomping of horses.
"All right
Buck, where’s the hole?" Chris Larabee asked his
voice strained.
They could hear
Nathan jogging up the path they themselves just traversed on horseback. The
healer had been forced to leave the buckboard a few hundred yards back down the
trail because the path had narrowed considerably.
Larabee peered down into the inky black hole. It
seemed to narrow to swallow a man but this one had claimed two. Only one had
been extracted. No sounds could be heard from below.
"Ezra!?" Chris called his voice shattering the quiet
of predawn morning. No response. Chris gazed over at Buck Wilmington, and did
not need to see the mustached features to know he was worried. Fear and worry
emanated from all of them.
Buck answered the
unasked question, "I think he was all right -- he didn’t say he was
hurt."
Tanner peered down
the hole, his vision unable to penetrate the wall of blackness. Buck had
extracted JD from the shaft with the gambler’s help over twelve hours ago. That
was an extremely long time ago. They all knew it. Chris stared back into the
hole. There was no way they were going to be able to send someone down there.
JD and Ezra were easily the smallest of the bunch.
"Ezra can you
hear me?!" Larabee called again.
Standish climbed
from the depths of a deep slumber. He lay curled on the small ledge. He thought
he heard someone call his name. His eyes blinked opened and took a moment to
adjust to the near suffocating blackness. His numbed mind agonizingly filtered
in the information his dull senses picked up and realized he still lay captive
in his uncle’s pit. Aww hell. He cursed himself not sure if he vocalized anything
or not. He lay for a minute his muscles aching and
cramping, hating his predicament. Then he heard it again, someone calling his
name. With monumental effort he sat up. His feet, one with a boot and one
without, slipped into the still waters. He leaned tiredly back against the
moist wall. ‘They must have come back to torment me again.’,
his cousins and their father. Standish would not give them the satisfaction of
knowing how badly he felt. He would not let on how much he wanted out of this
cold dark hell, or how he craved to lay in the sun in
dry warm clothes and sleep. He heard his name called again, in a none to gentle tone.
Yup, his Uncle was up there. So he summoned his strength and sat up
straighter and hollered back:
"’Ey, Uncle, that you?" With the thought of an ensuing battle of
wits a crooked smile crossed his ghastly pale features.
The five men stared
expectantly at each other.
"He just call me ‘Uncle’?" Larabee
asked no one in particular. In the moonlight he could not read their
expressions but their unease was almost palatable.
"Yeah." Vin answered.
"He’s been down
there along time, the cold could be affecting him or he’s hurt real bad or
both."
Josiah nodded. The preacher turned to the leader of the group
and said, "Keep him talking maybe he’ll come around."
Larabee nodded and yelled down to the gambler,
"Ezra, you okay?"
The response was
sarcastic and the southern accent very thick. "Jes’
fine you som’bitch. But you’re a bit premature. I ain’t dead yet!" They heard him chuckle and then a
splash. The five listened intently as the gambler moved about the water below.
Standish left his
ledge and slid into the water. He gazed up to the entrance of the hole and
stared at the silhouettes of the men looking down at him. Standish nudged a
rock with his booted toe. A smile creased his features.
"Ezra, listen,
we’re gunna get you out of there," Larabee shouted back, ignoring the southerner’s ramblings,
wishing to God he could see the gambler.
"I won’t hold
my breath, Uncle!" Chris heard the remark and suddenly something sharp
slapped him off the head. He let out a yelp and rolled back holding his
bleeding forehead.
"Aww gawd." he exclaimed. The
others heard Standish laugh as the rock plunked back into the water.
"Geez Chris you all right?" Vin asked going to
his friend who held his now bleeding head.
"That son of a
bitch," Chris hissed, "I’m gonna kill him."
Vin suppressed
his laughter.
"Easy brother,
I think that’s exactly what he is afraid of." Sanchez reasoned.
The voice from below
pulled them back to the edge. "Ehh Reverend, that hurt?" Standish taunted from somewhere
down below. He paused and chuckled furiously, "I must still have the devil
in me. I don’t think he plans on leaving any time soon." He laughed again
and another rock hissed from the murky depth, connecting with the
"Goddamn, that
hurts." Buck spat holding his nose feeling the swelling already set in. Vin fought back a chuckle. "It ain’t
funny Vin." Buck shot back. The pain in his face making frayed patience
even shorter. "I know I know, but he’s got one hell of an arm."
Larabee crawled back to the edge of the hole,
feeling blood trickle down the side of his face. Careful not to peer over the
edge he opened his mouth to say something when another rock shot out of the
hole, falling harmlessly a few feet away. Larabee was
becoming frustrated and angrily shouted, "Ezra knock
it off!" He let the threat go unfinished. This normally would have been
enough to cease most men. The anger and deadly intentions clearly audible in
his sharp demanding tone.
"Why don’t you
come down here and make me you rat bastard!" Standish replied, mocking his uncle, knowing full well the larger man would
not pursue his young nephew into the pit. When he did get out of the pit, Ezra
knew it would be a different story. He would pay for his indiscretion dearly.
To hell with it, Ezra thought, he might as well earn it and fired more rocks up
at the opening.
Josiah sat beside Vin and like the others, well away from the opening of the
shaft. "He’s a mite upset." Sanchez pointed out. He could not keep
the smile from his voice despite the dire situation they found themselves.
The stubborn conman
was indeed a fighter.
"You
think?" Buck intoned in response to the preachers comment, rubbing the
bridge of his injured nose. Jackson, who had been silent through most of the ordeal finally spoke up. "We’ve got to git him out of there....soon." The sky had begun to
lighten, stars slowly fading out as dawn threatened the blackness of night.
"How do you
propose we do that?" Chris asked fingering the cut that graced his
forehead.
"We could
string two lariats together and drop’em down."
"I don’t think
he’ll be to cooperative." Tanner answered.
The healer nodded
and then added, "Then we have to send someone down and make sure he
cooperates."
Vin wrinkled his face unhappy with the solution
but nodded. The five men peered at the narrow opening. It became obviously
clear who would have to descend to the bottom of the shaft.
Tanner swallowed
nervously. He hated dark enclosed spaces with an irrational almost panicky
fright. Sweat beaded his forehead. He licked his dry lips and thanked the
predawn darkness for hiding his almost tangible terror. Ezra was a friend and
Tanner had very few of those in this world, therefore he had to help the ones
he did manage to find. The tracker silently made it to his feet and with
"Ezra we’re gonna send Vin down to ya okay?" Larabee waited and
to his and everyone else’s surprise a barrage of obscenities and litany of threats
erupted from the hole followed by rapid succession of rocks. Buck, Chris and
Josiah took cover.
Standish heard his
uncle. They had Vin! They were going to send Vin down into this frigid hell. Standish exploded, "You
son of a bitch, leave Vin alone!" With all his
might he threw rocks up at his captors, no longer aiming but hoping to hurt his
tormentors like they planned on hurting Tanner. "Leave’m
alone.! He ‘ates dark
places" Standish’s tirade continued as rocks haphazardly found there marks
on hunched backs. "I’ll kill ya with my bare
‘ands Uncle. You better not send ‘im down here!"
The conman knew the terror that gripped the young tracker whenever they found
themselves enclosed or tied or in any tight confinement. To Tanner’s benefit he
hid it well but Ezra could read people like Vin read
tracks. Vin Tanner did not handle confinement. Ezra soon lost steam and slumped
against the cold dank wall heaving for breath. "I’ll get even with you
Uncle." he muttered.
Larabee, Buck and Josh slowly crawled back to the
edge of the opening. They had heard quite clearly what Ezra had said. Tanner
and Jackson just stood off to one side with the ropes.
Josiah spoke up , "That true Vin?"
The tracker’s mind
raced. He did not want to go down the hole but Ezra needed help. His hands
trembled and sweat soaked his body. He shivered. His lack of denial spoke
volumes.
"I can do
it," he stated simply hoping he left no room for argument.
"It’s all right
I’ll go down," Chris said. Larabee stood up gingerly, a few well placed rocks left their marks on his
back. He took the ropes from the tracker, "It’s ok Vin,
I understand." Chris spoke softly. He wondered how the seemingly self
indulged gambler picked up on the Tracker’s fear while everyone else missed it.
Then again the very nature of Ezra’s profession demanded such scrutiny in
others.
"Thanks
Chris." Tanner replied ashamed of his unconquerable fright.
Ezra had grown
extremely tired. With more effort than he thought possible he hiked himself
back up on his ledge out of the water. He lay down curling himself into a tight
ball. His whole body ached. He blinked slowly his eyelids very heavy. He would
go back to taunting his uncle in a few minutes. He just needed to rest.
Vin, Buck, Nathan and Josiah slowly lowered
Chris below the ground. As the gunslinger dropped in a jerky fashion the warm
summer night suddenly gave way to cold raw environment. Chris felt himself
shudder as the sweat that clung to his clothing began to chill him. In no time
he stood in knee deep freezing water. Larabee swore, Standish had been down in this damp chill far too long. If
it had not been so dark the gunslinger thought he would have been able to see
his breath crystallize in the air. Larabee waited a
moment to let his eyes adjust to the suffocating blackness.
Soon he could make
out the outlines of the small cavern. The narrow shaft had widened out to seven
feet diameter. Clay and rocks lined the craggy soft walls. Larabee
quickly spotted the gambler balled on his side on an impossibly small ledge. At
least, however, he was out of the frigid water. The gunslinger gazed back up at
the others. He could not make out their features but against the paling sky he
could discern who was who from the silhouettes. He waved to them but realized
they could not see him. Larabee cautiously crossed
the watery distance to the con man.
"Ezra?" He called quietly laying a hesitant hand on
the still form. "Ezra?" He shook the hunched
shoulder. Larabee noted just how cold and wet both
Standish and his clothing were -- he should not have lasted this long. Ezra
moaned and curled tighter into himself.
"Ain’t dead yet, uncle," he mumbled defiantly.
Chris smiled
tightly. Standish would fight you to the grave. "It’s me, Chris. Come on
Ezra, snap out of it." Larabee shook the gambler
roughly trying to drag him back to the land of the living.
Finally a quiet,
"Chris?" the soft southern drawl sounded unsure and disbelieving. Not
the same belligerent voice that had been assaulting them earlier.
"Yeah, Ezra,
it’s me. Let’s get you outta here." He sat the
gambler up. Chris swore, he had handled warmer corpses
in the winter time.
Standish leaned
against the clay wall. A figure stood before him talking about leaving. Sounded
like Larabee. Ezra laughed. It would be a cold day in
hell before Larabee would find himself in a place
like the pit. Chris stared confused at the outline of the gambler, why was he
laughing. Ezra began to slide to the side but Chris held him up right.
"Go away."
Ezra mumbled. He felt so tired, he just wanted to sleep.
"No, Ezra,
we’re gonna get you out of here." Larabee eased the rope off from around himself.
Standish laughed
once more, "Gawd I’m hallucinating again. Mr.
Wilmington what happened? Why didn’t you come back?"
Chris tried to slip
the rope around the gambler. This shocked Ezra and he lashed out with his
barefoot catching the gunslinger in the hip forcing him back.
"Leave m’alone," he growled.
"Goddam it Ezra cut it out," Chris said with
exasperation. The other four men listened above and shook their heads in
amusement. Larabee and Standish would and could butt
heads no matter the situation or location. They had clashed since the day they
met.
"You’re pretty
annoying for a hallucination, you know that?" Ezra drawled out. He just
wanted to lay down and sleep. In a few minutes he
would get up and try to climb out again. The apparition before him would not
let him be.
"Ezra you’re
not hallucinating, now come on." Larabee had begun to lose his patience. Why did the gambler
have to resist at every turn. Standish sighed, he felt so confused, his mind was not near as sharp as it should have been.
"Uncle’s pit
does strange things to people," Ezra intoned sheepishly. Larabee cursed silently. The gunslinger at first had no
idea what Standish meant when he spoke of his Uncle and ridding him of the
devil but now he was beginning to grasp a better understanding. Before Chris
could say anything the gambler spoke again, and again the normally lilting
carefree southern accent was replaced with a thick simple almost childish
southern tone.
"Uncle threw
Big Jim in here. He died." Standish drew his legs up hugging them to his
chest, "His bones are under the water -- rats picked’em clean." Standish shuddered and moaned,
"I hate rats." Larabee watched the conman
not saying a word and trying to catch up to the conversation. "Ain’t gonna
happen to me, though. I’ve climbed out before, can do it again."
The voice had become defiant again.
Finally Larabee spoke, his tone gentle as if he were speaking to Billy
Travis, "Ezra this isn’t your Uncle’s pit. Your Uncle isn’t here." He
wondered if he penetrated the delirious mind.
"Yeah he is,
he’s up there," a pause and then a gleeful chuckle, "I pegged him
with a rock." Standish’s childlike chuckle ended and Larabee
watched as his friend hid his head behind his knees, "He’s gonna beat me but good for that." The resignation hung
heavy in the dank musty air. Chris fingered the large cut that adorned his
head. When that rock smacked his head, for a brief second he wanted to wring
the con man’s neck but the urge quickly passed, apparently Ezra’s Uncle did not
ignore such impulses. Chris tried again. He had lost sensation in his feet and
his legs were becoming painfully numb.
"Ezra, he isn’t
up there." Chris paused and continued, "Buck and the others are up
there, so come on, let’s go." Larabee watched
with dismay as Standish shook his head no without looking up.
"Buck ain’t coming back, or he would have been here long before
now." Standish mumbled. "They never come back." He stopped and
gazed up at Larabee; a sad smile cracked his haggard
features, "It’s okay though, I don’t mind. Never really expected him to
come back anyhow. I’ll git out of this,"
his smile turned cocky and he laid back down,
"always do."
Larabee listened and watched as the gambler curled
back up, "Ezra we’re right here." How many times, Larabee
wondered, had the gambler heard promises of support
and aid to be left alone to fend for himself. Watching his younger friend now,
the gunslinger realized it happened on more than a few occasions in the gambler’s
mysterious past, and now he relived it as an adult. A child’s fear manifested
in adult form. The pain and mistrust just barely disguised under an air of self
confidence, had resurfaced, exposed for all to see. Chris’s building
frustration slowly fizzled. Standish was no stranger to betrayal, and
questioned, rightly so, any undo act of kindness or friendship. To him it was
all a sham, a con, it would not be taken on face
value. He would resist until he could not fight anymore, that was something Larabee could understand.
"Ahhhuh, you’re a pain in the butt in real life, Mr. Larabee, but your apparition is even worse." Ezra
mumbled tiredly, "if you’re gonna
hang around, then make yourself useful and wake me up in 20 minutes, so I can
climb out of here."
Larabee merely shook his head and waited as the
conman slipped into a deep sleep or unconsciousness. Chris could not be sure
which, not that it mattered. He manipulated the rope around the younger
gambler, it proved more difficult than he suspected. Standish offered very
little resistance mumbling incoherently, trying to curl even tighter in on himself. Chris secured the rope snugly around his friend and
again wrestled him into a sitting position. Standish bonelessly
slumped against the wall and slid sideways, forcing Larabee
to hold him up right.
"Okay,"
Chris whispered keeping one hand on the gambler he hollered up to the others,
"Okay, get ready." Vin, Nathan, Buck and
Josiah took up the slack in the rope. Larabee
squatted down and allowed Standish’s limp body to topple over his shoulders.
Chris shifted the weight more comfortably on his shoulder and shuffled through
the water until he stood directly under the hole’s
entrance. "Pull’im up," he hissed.
The dead weight of
the gambler put undo strain on his freezing trembling leg muscles. In no time
the pressure lifted from his shoulder and Larabee
watched as Standish slowly but steadily was hauled out. Chris watched as hands
greedily grabbed clothing and limbs, Ezra quickly disappeared from the lip of
the hole. The rope suddenly dropped back down to the water and Chris placed the
rope around himself and like the con man quickly extricated from the watery
cavern.
Buck and Vin helped Chris climb over the grassy rim of the hole onto
solid ground. "How is he?" Larabee asked as
he freed himself from the lariat. No one answered right away. Larabee could easily make out Nathan and Josiah as they
worked over the body of their friend. Chris crab crawled over and knelt beside
Standish’s soaked head. "He all right?"
"He’s freezing.
We need to get him warmed up and back to town, don’t
think he has any broken bones. A lump on the back of the head and minor bruises
and scrapes all over him, his shoulder again," Nathan said tightly.
Chris looked up as Vin led some of the horses over, "I’ll ride him down to
the buck board."
Without a word Buck
and Josiah raised the half stripped gambler up onto the saddle, where Tanner
wrapped his arms around the chilled abdomen securing his charge. Standish’s
head lolled to his chest, muttering and occasionally lifting a hand as if in
conversation.
"He never
quits," Buck uttered to himself. The others heard, smiles creased their tired faces.
______________________________
The ride back to
The five men rode in
silence the only sounds coming from the horses and creaking buck board.
Occasionally Standish would call out or laugh at some unseen thing or person
only to fall silent quickly again. Buck would glance up worriedly at the healer
but Nathan would just shrug and lay a comforting hand on the blanketed
shoulder. They entered town.
Buck tossed back the
blankets on the second unoccupied bed in the clinic. Mary had opened the door
when she heard the commotion below. She quickly stepped aside as Buck skipped
up the steps. She watched as Josiah gathered Standish from the wagon, shifted
his burden’s weight and then navigated the steps. Nathan pressed a supporting
hand on the small of the preachers back, guiding him up the wooden staircase.
Sanchez huffed past Mrs. Travis bending slightly under the gambler’s weight. He
laid Ezra down careful as if he held a fragile bundle that might break with any
sudden movement.
Buck threw a quick
glance at the sleeping JD, even with all the commotion the kid did not stir.
Mary saw the worried look of concern and answered, "I gave him some of
Nathan’s tea."
"Mary would you
mind giving us some privacy while we get Ezra, here, settled?" Nathan
asked his tone pleasant but the seriousness of the situation clearly present.
Mary gazed down at the card shark, his face pale almost grey, his lips had a
purplish tinge as did his well kept pruned hands and feet.
"Is he going to
be ok?" She asked. Her strong voice soft and full of
concern. Ezra Standish was a good friend, he
treated Billy kindly and always went out of his way to show her son a new card
trick. The gambler had to be okay.
Josiah put his arm
brotherly around her shoulders and guided her toward the door. "He should
be fine Mary, you can come back in once we get him
comfortable." Mrs. Travis merely nodded and took a seat on the wooden
bench adjacent to the door.
Twenty minutes later
Josiah opened the door, Buck, Nathan and he stepped out, joining Vin, Chris and Mary on the modest second story landing outside
the clinic.
"They okay?"
Vin asked quietly.
"JD’s gunna be fine, we set his leg last night and the bump to
the head isn’t that serious."
"Ezra
coming down with something?" Vin asked incredulously. The gambler had
managed to avoid catching any illness the other six might have contracted over
the past year. They were few and far between but one particular time the six
had been knocked cold by a flu bug. They had contracted the illness from the
kids at the Seminole village. The only one not affected happened to be the
gambler. Standish had smiled and chuckled at his six ailing comrades and
commented he escaped unscathed because he lead the
good life. Now, the other five understood the tracker’s disbelief. Jackson
merely shrugged, in the last one and half years the knife wielding healer had
known the gambler, not once did he come down with an illness or fever unless
lead was involved.
"Why don’t you
all get some rest and I’ll sit with JD and Ezra," Nathan said. Yesterday
had been a long hot day and the evening even longer. The men were exhausted as
was Nathan. The healer knew he would not sleep, however, two friends lay hurt
within his clinic. He would sleep when he thought they would be okay. No one
argued, not even Mary, who suppressed a yawn. It had been along time since she
went to bed at seven in the morning. She wondered how the gambler did it night
after night.
Nathan laid a cold
compress on Standish’s forehead. The fever steadily climbed. Hard to imagine
just a few hours ago he was cold as ice. The gambler’s hands and feet were
still pruned from the time in the water.
Nathan yawned standing and stretching arching his back with his
arms raised over his head. He had not felt this tired and drained in along
time. The summer heat just sapped energy from you and today proved to be
another scorcher. When he dropped his lanky arms he was surprised to find
Standish staring up at him. Nathan immediately recognized the dazed and wary
expression. Fever did some unusual things to its victims.
The healer put on a
friendly smile and approached the con man. Nathan watched in dismay as his
southern friend shrank back, his green eyes narrowing.
"Hey
Ezra, how you feeling?"
Nathan’s voice soft, patient and sincere.
Standish on a good
day was standoffish, friendly, an easy laugh always on his lips. He kept his
own company, unless in a card game or sharing a meal with one of the six. It
was not that the gambler did not like the others,
Nathan knew the gambler fit in with this strange grouping of men, that were
almost surrogate family. It was just Standish did not know how to relate to the
others without his cards as mediators. Trust was slow to develop from both
sides and his loyalty grew with agonizing trepidation, but once rooted, both
trust and loyalty were gripped tenaciously with two hands, like a dog with a
bone. Standish would and did defend the other six as they had him.
Of the seven, Ezra
Standish was the last to be fully accepted for who he was and he alone held out
the longest in accepting the others. Nathan Jackson and Ezra Standish stood on
opposite poles of moral and ethical view points, they held a common ground
which they found situated in the other five men. The gambler and healer did not
readily welcome each other’s company at first but they found a delicate bond
and from that sprang a tentative friendship that slowly blossomed.
So seeing the wild
fear in the normally unflappable gambler, Nathan Jackson backed off. He was not
hurt from Ezra’s feverish reaction. The southerner was a product of his
upbringing. Nathan Jackson marveled at how far the southern gentleman had come,
from a bigot and a cheat to just an occasional cheat ( when
the situation dictated).
__________________________________
Josiah leaned on the
church step railing. The early afternoon sun beat mercilessly down, baking the
ground. Waves of heat shimmered down the dusty main street. The preacher sighed
tiredly, he would welcome a break from this heat wave.
He raised a large callused hand to shade his eyes searching for any evidence of
rain in the cloudless blue sky. None. As he lowered
his blue eyes he noticed a form sitting on the peaked roof of the clinic across
the street. He squinted his eyes peering intently at
the figure and quietly swore. He hurriedly jogged across the street, creating
shallow prints in the fine dust of the main thorough fare. Sanchez bounded up
the clinic steps two at a time. He slowed his pace so not to disturb the
sleeping healer and entered the humble clinic.
JD slept soundly,
his chest rising slowly, blankets to his waist, his fractured leg propped on
pillows wrapped in sturdy splints. The bed closest to the outside door lay
empty. Josiah crossed the floor quietly and quickly and left the room from the
opposite door. He crossed the hall and ascended the nailed wood rung ladder to
the roof.
___________________________________
Mrs. Potter had also
spotted the person on the roof and with some urgency entered the saloon, to
find Mr. Larabee, Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Tanner. The
three men turned their gaze to the newcomer. Mrs. Potter never frequented the
saloon. Her worried countenance belayed any comments from the three
peacekeepers.
"Mr.Larabee is there any reason why poor Mr. Standish is
sitting on the roof of the clinic in this heat?" Mrs. Potter was well
aware of the events of the last evening and subsequent early morning. Though
she did not approve of Mr. Standish’s profession she could not deny that the
man went out of his way to be kind to her children, putting smiles on their
faces even after their father had been brutally shot down. She could over look
his moral indiscretions for the benefit of her children.
At the news, the
three men jumped to their feet and hastily made their way outside. Shading
their eyes, despite the fact they wore their hats, they peered anxiously up at
the roof. Sure enough Standish sat up there apparently only wearing his suspendered pants and no shirt. Then Josiah emerged from
the crawl opening. They watched as the
giant bear of a man picked his way cautiously to the gambler. Without a word
the three men trotted over to the clinic and up the stairs.
___________________________________
Josiah sat a few
feet from Standish. The gambler sat with
his bare feet flush to the slanted roof, his knees bent with forearms crossed
resting on bent knees, his chin on his forearms staring out across the meadow.
Sanchez watched him for a moment; the gambler gave no indication that he knew
someone joined him.
Josiah swore, the
roof had to be scalding hot on the bare feet but maybe the sun had not hit that
side of the roof just yet. Standish trembled a little as a chill ran through him.
Josiah finally
spoke: "Ezra?" He waited a few seconds for a response. Standish
merely turned his head not raising it, saw the preacher within a few feet and
turned his attention back to the grassy meadow. Commotion to Sanchez’s left
grabbed the preacher’s attention and he saw Larabee
poke his head out. Another chill hit Standish. "We need a blanket."
Josiah whispered. Larabee disappeared for a brief
moment and then reappeared, hoisting himself up onto the roof carrying a
blanket. Chris positioned himself behind the preacher and the gambler,
squatting down. Gawd it was hot. Sanchez finally
spoke again:
"What
ya doin’ out here
Ezra?"
A
pregnant pause.
"Waitin," his accent very thick. Larabee shut his eyes and smiled. Standish had never
offered information unless pried from him. This had gradually begun to change
until today.
Sanchez merely
nodded and started gently prying, "Waiting for who?"
Again a pause.
Standish turned his
head taking in the larger man, judging him with inquisitive piercing green
eyes. "Capt’n Joe."
This got raised
eyebrows from Larabee. The preacher undaunted continued,
as if talking to a child.
"Where’s
Captain Joe?"
The gambler gazed up
at him confused and then pointed, "out there." Sanchez nodded in
apparent understanding. Chris watched the exchange silently. Standish surprised
both men as he continued, "He said he’d come back. Ms. Kate would be
worried if he don’t."
Larabee threw Sanchez a questioning gaze. The preacher merely shrugged.
"His ship
normally comes from behind that jetty," Ezra intoned, pointing out to the
tree dotted field at a harbor and jetty that only his fevered mind could see.
Both gunslinger and preacher exchanged worried glances. Another chill hit
Standish and he brought his knees closer to his chest. Larabee
could not help but notice the scratched raw back and the old faint scars that
crisscrossed the ribbed torso.
"You
cold?" Josiah asked.
"No." A
clipped denial, as again a shiver shot through the gambler.
"You want a
blanket?"
Standish stared at
the blanket, clearly wanting to accept it. "Can’t pay for it," he
intoned.
"You don’t have
too," Josiah answered, somewhat surprised by the response.
"I ain’t working for it either. So you just keep it." A sharp retort. Chris smiled sadly. Standish took nothing at
face value, everything had a price no matter how benign the offer. Larabee watched the twosome, Josiah had infinite patience.
"How bout we
trade for it," the preacher suggested.
This got the
gambler’s attention as he curled tighter into himself his muscles taught with
fever.
"I’ll give you
blanket and you sweep the church aisle just one time."
Larabee watched as Standish squinted
his eyes and then rested his head on his knees nodding in agreement. Sanchez
reached behind as Larabee handed the blanket off and
the preacher laid it over the bare hunched shoulders.
"Better?"
A
simple nod in response.
Standish leaned heavily on the black stove pipe that protruded from the roof. Larabee cringed. Iit had to be
scalding hot, but apparently the blanket protected the gambler not only from
the sun but the radiating heat of the pipe.
"He’s not
coming back, is he?" A child’s question in a child’s
tone. The defeat in the voice hung heavy in the air.
"Captain Joe?
No Ezra, not today at least," Josiah answered watching his friend
intently. The preacher had carefully moved closer to the conman.
"They never
come back." Ezra intoned clearly and quietly wishing that it was not true.
Again Josiah and Chris shared a questioning look.
"Ezra, let’s go
back inside," Josiah prompted carefully.
"No." Simple flat statement that brooked no argument. "Uncle
Clifford’s somewhere down there." A pause and a crooked smile crossed the
rosy dimpled cheeks. "Thinks I got the devil in me, tries to rid me of
him." A sigh, "I like the devil’s company more than Uncle Cliffords." This brought a chuckle to the gunslinger
and preacher
"I would
too." Josiah agreed. Standish leaned heavily against the pipe closing his
eyes.
"Josiah?"
a quiet question.
"Yeah?"
"I don’t feel
so good." Another sad sigh. The giant bear of a
man reached over and gently pulled the smaller con man away from the pipe and
leaned Ezra against his shoulder and chest, bringing a callused hand up and
resting it on the younger man’s forehead. "I know son, I know."
Sanchez softly muttered trying to soothe the delirious friend in his grasp.
Then
a soft, "Josiah?"
And
again, "Yeah?"
Another deep sigh
from the gambler, as Sanchez held the light brown head close to his shoulder,
in a quiet tired voice, "I ain’t your son."
The southern accent still extremely thick but no rebellion laced his words. Just a simple fact. Chris chuckled and shook his head in
disbelief. A genuine laugh rumbled through Josiah as he held the gambler
comfortingly, resting his chin on the bowed head. He and Larabee
exchanged bemused looks as Standish quickly drifted off to a fevered slumber.
After a few quiet
moments Larabee finally asked, "He out?"
Josiah peered down
at the slack face and nodded. The preacher felt Standish’s forehead, "Gawd Chris he’s burning up."
The gunslinger only
nodded and said, "Let’s get him back inside."
Buck Wilmington
carried the con man back into the clinic once again gently depositing him back
into bed. Nathan pulled the blankets up over his patient. Ezra moaned and
curled into a loose ball, muttering about rats. Vin
placed a cold wet rag on the gambler’s neck.
"Nathan how
long he going to be like this?" Tanner asked fixing the blanket up around the bare shoulders.
Nathan watched the gambler with dismay, his fever raged unchecked,
his time spent down in the hole had flung him back to another life.
"We just have
to wait."
____________________________
Wait they did. JD
woke later that afternoon with a slow ache in his splinted leg that quickly
escalated to unbearable pain. Dunne had come to on Chris’s watch. Larabee smiled sympathetically at the boy. JD’s pale
features were taught with pain. For his part JD clenched his jaw against the
agony unwilling to show his idol how much he hurt. Chris easily recognized what
the youngest member of the seven was trying to do.
"Leg hurt
pretty bad huh?" Larabee
asked as he eased the curly brown head off the pillow. The pillow was soaked
with sweat. JD merely nodded. Chris smiled tightly and gently eased some of the
tea down the boy. When Dunne laid his head back down on the pillow he then
noticed the gambler.
"What’s wrong
with Ezra?"
Chris turned his
attention from the sheriff to the gambler. For the moment Standish’s nightmares
had relinquished him allowing him some respite. He had tossed and turned and
fought demons only he could see, never crying out for help, relying sorely on
himself to escape whatever demons threatened him. Chris smiled reassuringly
back down at the sheriff.
"Just
a little under the weather.
Nothing to worry about."
JD pulled his gaze
from the gambler to the gunslinger. He was going to ask him another question
but a wave of pain shot up his leg causing him to gasp and grab for his thigh. Larabee intercepted the hand and returned the surprisingly
strong grasp.
"Easy kid, ride
it out," Larabee soothed. He watched as JD’s
face relaxed a bit and loosened his hold on Chris.
"I’m okay,"
he breathed out tiredly. Chris watched thankfully as the strong tea took effect
and Dunne slowly drifted back to sleep.
Josiah Sanchez, Buck
Wilmington, Vin Tanner and Chris Larabee shared a
quiet drink at a back table in the moderately busy saloon. Nathan had gone to
get a light supper. The heat had squelched any appetite the others might have
had. Buck could not help notice Ezra’s table sat empty. He smiled out of habit
at Inez as she served another round of whiskey. She acknowledged the grin and
smiled back, no biting retort followed.
The normal banter
that accompanied the men did not exist tonight. Inez knew why and she felt her
heart tighten. She wanted nothing more than to sit with Ezra Standish. They
were friends, good friends. Where it went from there she could only hope. For
now she was content with the strong bond of trust they seemed to have
developed. She would be patient and see where it would grow.
"How is Senor Standish and JD?" she asked as she poured
drinks.
Buck answered. His guilt eating away at him. The others had tried to assure
him it was not his fault, there was no way he could have known of the hole, no
way he could have pulled two adults up by gripping
only one foot. What ate most at the fun loving gunman had been Ezra’s words as
he spoke with Chris down in the hole. Ezra had not expected Buck to come back.
Standish believed that he would be left behind, forgotten. Did he really believe
it? Apparently, Buck surmised, he did -- Standish actually thought his life
would be forfeit once JD had been freed. This bothered Buck until he fell into
a morose silence.
"JD’s okay, in
some pain, but he’s tough." Buck stated. The kid made him proud. No matter
how bad he hurt Dunne did not complain, he smiled, weakly, but the smile always
there. The kid did his best to reassure the others, surprisingly not the other
way around. The kid had woken a couple of times that day, each time asking
repeatedly about Ezra. With the concussion his short term memory could not
grasp what the others told him.
Inez noted the
omission, "Senor Standish?"
Buck met the senorita’s
large brown eyes. He knew that she and Ezra were friends and the fact that the
gambler had not asked Buck to back off from hounding Inez only hammered home to
Buck that Ezra’s relationship with the hispanic
beauty so far was purely platonic.
"He’s still
running a pretty high fever."
Inez bit her lip and
nodded heading back to the bar. She would visit her managing partner in the
morning.
_______________________________
Tanner jumped awake.
He slept in the rocking chair that sat in the corner of the darkened room. Vin stood up before his body truly woke up. A soft breeze
whispered through the open window offering very little respite from the summer
heat. What had stirred him?
He gazed out the
window at the starry night. The town slept, even the din from the saloon had
slacked off quite a bit. Being mid-week the saloon tended to quiet down early.
Judging from the stars Vin suspected it was just past
"Easy there pard, you’re gonna be okay,"
Tanner soothed much like he did when dealing with a fractious horse. He watched
the tormented expression that etched itself in the gamblers clean cut features.
"Hang on Ezra," Vin whispered. He used a
cool compress to wipe Standish’s forehead and face.
Ezra for his part
muttered about inconsequential things that did not make much sense to the
tracker, but gambling and cards played a big role. Tanner chuckled quietly to himself, Ezra always had cards on his mind, even when he
dreamed. Vin eventually shifted to a more comfortable
position on the bed, leaning against the head board draping a cold compress on
Ezra’s forehead. The tracker eventually dozed off.
"Hey
cowboy." A hand
slapped Vin’s booted feet
off the bed. Tanner jumped awake, blinking.
"Huh?" he
asked as he stood, trying to make out the grinning features in front of him. Vin smiled sheepishly, Chris Larabee,
who else could sneak up on him but his brother (or the closest thing Vin had to
a brother).
Larabee laid a concerned hand on the gambler’s
forehead. Larabee noticed the shallow raspy breathing
had not improved, if anything it seemed worse. The fever remained unchanged.
"How’d it go
last night?" Chris knew the answer the minute he had opened the door and
noticed the tracker sleeping on the bed.
Larabee had sighed, of the seven it seemed strange
that the two most opposite people actually had more in common. Vin Tanner and
Ezra Standish were loners. Both very slow to trust anyone, wary of everyone and
everything, both held the same uncanny ability to read people, and both craved
for family and home. The similarities were not as glaring as the differences
between both men but under the surface they held many similar qualities.
"He didn’t get
much rest," Vin simply answered. Chris nodded and
turned his attention to JD, the boy had managed to
shift onto his right side and slept with an arm curled under his pillow. At
least he seemed okay.
The heat quickly
soared to new highs as the morning wore on. JD had woken sweating and
irritable. His leg hurt, his head hurt and he was not hungry. JD had tried to
convey this to Nathan but the healer would not listen and shoveled soup down
the boy’s gullet. JD balked until Buck explained the alternative would not be
so pleasant. Dunne harumphed but complied
begrudgingly to
The ladies’ man sat
on the edge of Ezra’s bed. The conman slept curled tightly on his left side,
burying his head in the pillow. The fever had yet to break. Even under the
blankets Buck could see the muscle tremors. With a damp rag he began to wipe
Standish’s face and head, anything that might help bring down his temperature.
At the touch, Ezra’s
green eyes flew open roving wildly back in forth.
"Hey pard’ how you feelin.?" Buck asked somewhat surprised by the sudden
movement. Nathan and JD quit arguing with each other and watched with
curiosity.
"Be careful,
Buck, I don’t think he’s seeing you."
Josiah, Chris and Vin headed up the outer clinic steps when they heard the
strangled yelp and then a crash. They threw open the door and rushed in.
"Shit."
Chris uttered as he saw Ezra landing punches on Buck’s head and face. Josiah
quickly crossed the floor and enveloped the smaller gambler from behind in a
tight bear hug, effectively pinning his arms. Standish suddenly finding himself
trapped fought wildly.
He threw his head
back using it as a weapon, smashing it against the preacher’s chest. Sanchez
held on and dragged his charge off Buck. Chris hauled
Josiah sat heavily
on the bed still tightly holding the squirming gambler. "Easy Ezra, take it easy," he
whispered over and over. For his part
Ezra had not uttered a word or a scream. He remained oddly silent, only his
heavy labored breathing as he fought the arms that pinned him. Vin grabbed Standish’s wildly tossing head, as Josiah kept
his own tilted back out of the way.
"Ezra?! Ezra?! Quit now. Calm down," Tanner soothed calmly as he
would a wild colt. Like the frightened crazed eyes he had seen in some of the
most unruly animals he now saw in his friend’s. Something frightened Standish,
and like a creature of instinct he lashed out trying to protect himself.
Standish did not respond by slowing down, instead his blood shot green eyes met
sincere worried blue eyes, and shot out with a kick sending Tanner reeling
backward. The fight was on in earnest. Josiah was losing his grip, and Standish
showed no sign of letting up. Larabee broke Tanner’s
fall, and both men rushed into the fray.
In a few seconds they
had Standish pinned under them on the bed. All four men heaved for breath.
Standish lay on his back pinned by Josiah’s shin under his chin. Chris and Vin held his legs and arms. The sound of haggard breathing
filled the room. Sanchez watched as the green eyes began to flutter closed, and
the tension leave his face. The others felt his muscles relax. Slowly cautiously they loosened their holds
and slowly stood up.
Suddenly Standish
bolted from the bed tackling
"You
son of a bitch. You said
you’d come back. I trusted you!" Buck’s eyes widened at the words.
Standish cut him to the quick. "I trusted you cousin," he hissed. His thick southern accent very deadly as his hands gripped Buck’s
shirt. "You didn’t come back; you stole my stuff," he paused
catching his breath. The others made a move to pull him off of Buck but Josiah
hesitated, curious as to what would happen next. Ezra was not throwing punches
now.
"Where is it,
Cousin?" He practically spit out the question.
Buck for his part
was as confused as the others. "Ezra I ain’t
your cousin, It’s me Buck. I did come back. Chris and
the others were there too," Buck tried to explain.
Standish chuckled
mirthlessly, "Larabee and the others wouldn’t go
to my uncle’s pit, not for the likes of me." Standish pointed the
statement out without ire, just a fact. "Where’s my da’s
harmonica?" he raised his hand to strike who he thought to be a cousin.
Buck stared up at
him with a mixture of pleading and sadness. "Ezra you don’t own a
harmonica," Buck tried to explain. He closed his eyes as the fist started
to fall upon him. It never landed. Vin Chris and Josiah descended on the
gambler like a storm. He had no more fight left in him and collapsed to the
side, sliding into Josiah.
Inez opened the door
just as Josiah caught Ezra. Her brown eyes widened in shock. "What are you
doing to him?" she asked, her voice threatening. The door slammed shut
behind her for effect. All motion in the small clinic ceased, heads snapped
around. At seeing the seething Mexican senorita eyes dropped to the floor. With
hands on her hips, she stared challengingly at each man, softening her gaze at
JD. Josiah cradled Standish’s head and shoulders preventing them from hitting
the dusty wood planked floor.
"Senor
Wilmington what have you done?" She crossed the floor with an authority no
one would challenge and knelt beside the unconscious gambler and supportive
preacher. Josiah easily read the worry and concern that flashed across the
clear olive features as she laid a hand on Ezra’s face and chest. Her gaze met
Josiah’s briefly and she winked before hardening her expression and facing Buck
who sat leaning against the wall. Ignoring his blackening eye and bleeding
nose, she continued her interrogation. "Do you always wrestle with your
friends when they are so ill?" She paused getting out of the way as Vin helped Josiah lift Standish back into bed. The tracker
was silently thankful it was Buck who faced the hurricane fury alone and not
he.
"Me?! He came after me!"
"Oh that’s why
he’s unconscious?"
Buck realized he
fought a losing battle and much to everyone’s surprise, especially Larabee’s, Buck held his tongue. Inez turned away from the
indignant gunslinger hiding her bemused smile and faced the other three men.
They had the gambler back in bed under blankets, she watched as he shivered
despite the increasingly intense heat of the day.
"Why don’t you
gentlemen take a break and leave him to me." Her piercing brown eyes left
no room for argument nor did the others want to contradict her. So with much
haste, possibly the most fearsome group of men in the territory hurriedly
shuffled out the door under the irritable scrutiny of the small senorita. JD
attempted to sit up, but she nailed him with a steely gaze and he melted
defeated back onto the bed. Nathan favored her with a thankful smile as he
gently closed the door.
Once the room
emptied out she turned her attention to JD. For his part he tried not to
visibly cower when she faced him.
"Well now JD,
how are you feeling?"
He smiled
cautiously, "Better ma’am." Dunne faced her warily. Anyone who could
dictate to Chris, Buck and the others was a force to behold.
Inez laughed,
"Take it easy JD I don’t bite." She went to the door and turned back
"How about something to eat?" JD’s stomach still felt queasy but he
recognized the thinly veiled order in the seemingly benign question.
"Sure." He
watched amazed as she opened the door and very unlady
like shouted to Buck to bring up some beef and bread.
_________________________________
A few hours later,
Josiah cracked open the door to the clinic. JD slept soundly in the far bed,
the partially eaten meal had long since been discarded. Inez sat on the edge of
Ezra’s bed and with a rag in hand wiped his face and head. She dipped the cloth
back in the cool water and continued to wash his arms and shoulder. Standish lay on his left side his back to the porch door, the
blankets pulled to his hip. Inez hummed softly as she rung out the cloth and
rubbed his back careful of the large angry raspberry. Standish mumbled and
tossed his head, but she quickly calmed him with a soft litany of Spanish. Her
touch and voice soothed him and once again he settled into a fevered slumber.
Sanchez watched unnoticed for only a moment before his baritone voice broke the
afternoon spell.
"How is
he?" The preacher crossed the room. For such a big man Inez thought he
moved gracefully and quietly. She wondered how long he had been there.
Determined not to be embarrassed by her actions she continued her bathing of
Standish.
Inez smiled briefly
at the preacher. Of all the seven he
came across as the calming influence. The wise uncle or even
father figure. Chris Larabee was no doubt the
leader in the strange collection of men, and JD unquestionably the younger
brother and sadly, as Inez had grown to know the men, Ezra Standish obviously
the odd man out. Strange she thought, the men paired off, Chris and Vin favoring their quiet company, JD and Buck forever
badgering one another,
Inez smiled up at
the preacher as he sat on the opposite side of the bed and felt for a fever. It
still raged, muscles still twitched and tensed. Josiah sighed something had to
give and soon.
"He has been
quiet for the most part," Inez answered. Sanchez merely nodded and stared
at the large raw scrapes that adorned the gambler’s ribbed back. Chris had told
them Ezra had tried to climb out of the hole. It obviously did not work. The
preacher, unlike the others, had not been surprised when Ezra commented that he
did not expect the others would come back for him. Funny, Josiah knew the
gambler would have returned for any of the others. Standish, however, believed
the others held his life to a lesser value than those around them. Sanchez
chuckled softly, probably why the gambler in his own right did everything he
could to protect his own precious neck, he figured no one else would. Inez, Josiah observed, had managed to put a
chink in the wall in which Standish surrounded himself. They all had for the
most part, but none as quickly or cleanly as the petite Mexican woman.
Sanchez surprised
her and himself when he finally asked, "Are you ever going to let him
know?" Inez dabbed Standish’s forehead and then gazed up at the preacher. His question sincere.
"That
obvious?" she felt embarrassed and lowered her eyes to the light brown
shortly cropped hair of Standish. He slept heavily through the conversation.
Did she feel more than friendship for the southern gambler? She honestly did
not know. She longed to spend a night with him, but was it out of love? Inez
could not trust her own feelings as confused as they were when they concerned
Standish. She heard Josiah chuckle. She dropped her head even lower,
embarrassment clouding her features.
"It’s not
obvious at all." She heard him say. Inez lifted her eyes upward again and met his
smiling blue eyes. She sought proof to his statement. He provided it, " If
it were, Buck would back off, or the others would ask him too," Josiah
grew serious and indicated with a nod of his head to the gambler, "Ezra
would most certainly."
Inez smiled briefly
at the thought of Buck Wilmington, consummate ladies man, bemoaning his fate if
he lost out to Standish. "I fear Senor Standish only sees me as a friend,
nothing more."
"I can’t think
of a better place to start a relationship." Sanchez smiled and stood,
leaving Inez to sort out her feelings.
________________________________
The thunderstorm hit
fast and furious. Thunder rolled and boomed throughout the blackened heavens.
Streaks of lightening flashed across the desert, striking haphazardly across
the barren land.
In
"This can’t
keep up," Buck whispered staring down at the shallowly breathing gambler.
Standish moaned and rolled his head left and right, cursing rats.
Chris rubbed his own
face tiredly, "I know." There was nothing else they could do, but
wait.
_____________________________
Buck woke to a moan.
He sat up tiredly his muscles cramped from sleeping in a chair, rubbing his
eyes. The sky was predawn grey, the rain had stopped
but it was thankfully cooler. Buck stood
and stretched, someone muttered, "aw gawd,"
and blankets shifted.
"Hey
pard’ how you feelin’?" Buck asked as he took a rag and wiped some
of the rivulets of perspiration from the pale features.
Ezra blinked up at
him confused. His eyes roved around the room and then settled back on the
gunslinger, "Buck?" His voice was hoarse and gruff. Buck smiled.
"Yeah pard’ its me." It was the
first time in days it seemed Standish actually looked at him. "How you feelin?"
Standish struggled
to roll onto his back, his body exhausted, Buck helped him.
"Terrible."
A simple grunt like answer, barely understandable.
"Here have some
water." Again Buck had to raise the southerners head off the pillow and
gently ease the tepid water between cracked dry lips. He gently placed Ezra’s
sweat slick head back on the soaked pillow. "Better?"
"Yeah." There was a pause and then, "JD!"
Standish weakly tried to sit up but Buck easily held him still.
"He’s fine,
he’s right over there." Buck pointed to the young sheriff who slept only a
few feet away. Standish breathed a sigh of relief. "You did good Ezra,"
Buck said seriously.
Ezra relaxed
somewhat, back against the pillow, and finally said, "I was not the only
one there." Standish would not take all the credit -- he still had problems
with his recent rash of Good Samaritan actions.
"Get some rest
Ezra you deserve it." After a few minutes Buck stood to leave, the motion
must have jerked the gambler back awake briefly.
"Buck?"
"Yeah
Ezra?"
"Thanks for
coming back." His eyes closed again and his breathing leveled out.
________________________________
"Hey Miss
Casey," Nathan said as he and Josiah climbed the wooden clinic steps. The
young woman sat in a chair on the second story porch. She sat reading a book,
the thick cloud cover offering some protection from the summer sun and keeping
things cool. "What are you doing out here?"
Once Casey had heard
what happened she rushed into town to see for herself that JD was okay. One
could easily see she seethed angrily. Casey forced a smile, "Ahh JD’s being a jerk. Won’t stop
complaining about everything. To bad his jaw weren’t broke and not his
leg" She paused and looked up at the healer and smiled slyly, "You
couldn’t splint his mouth shut or something could you?" Josiah and Nathan
both laughed, young love, fickle at best.
"Well at least
he’s feeling better." Josiah commented. "How’s Ezra?" Casey paused
and a genuine smile crossed her features,
"Sleeping like
the dead, hasn’t moved even a little." She
brushed a stray unruly strand of hair out of her eyes and added, "you
probably could stampede cattle through there and not wake him." Grins
split the men’s faces as the pushed their way through the door.
JD sat up when he
heard the door open, "Ahh it’s about time.
Nathan can’t I get out of here now." His young voice
booming off the walls. True to form, Ezra slept curled on his left side
facing JD’s bed, undisturbed by the sudden outburst.
"JD keep it
down, you’ll wake Ezra."
"Schucks Josiah, Ezra wouldn’t wake up unless you blew up
the building around him. He ain’t moved for
hours." Dunne said sliding straighter up against the head board. Nathan
checked the splinted leg, gently fingering the bruising. JD hissed and tensed.
"Do you have to do that?" Jackson ignored him. The healer then
examined the wound on the head and rechecked his eyes. Dunne fidgeted the whole
time anxious for Nathan to stop. "Cut it out Nathan, let me out of
here." JD was sick of sleeping and tired of being cooped up in the clinic.
He wanted out and despised his forced imprisonment. Josiah shook his head he
was going to join Casey on the porch if this kept up.
"Sorry JD, you
need to stay off that leg for another few days," Nathan said straightening
up. The fracture was healing nicely but he knew the boy would not take it easy
once he regained his freedom. Nothing was more important to the young than
their independence.
"Aww Nathan!" he whined boisterously. JD did not think
that he could stand another day cooped up in the same room day after day. At
least the searing heat had finally let up and a cool breeze briskly cut through
the small room. Small consolation for being trapped in bed.
"JD keep your voice down." Josiah hissed. He sat on the
gambler’s bed and Standish stirred. The easy rhythm of sleep caught, the
eyelids unpeeled briefly and then closed. His legs stretched out only to curl
back up, he muttered incoherently and then quieted
down. Sanchez watched him a moment more and then turned to the young man,
"show more consideration." His voice low and calm.
JD bit his lip and
nodded uttering a puppy whipped, "sorry."
Nathan shot Sanchez
a look, the boy was hurt and restless, he did not need
to be berated.
Josiah sighed,
"Listen JD someone has to keep a close eye on Ezra here, he’s been pretty
sick. The others are beat tired and Nathan and I were
hoping you and Casey could just sit in here, and let us know if anything
changes."
A worried expression
crossed the young face, "he really that sick?" It was Nathan who
answered with a simple nod of his head. JD leaned his head back and quietly
stated, "Wow he never gets sick."
"Well he is
now." Josiah added, "Can we count on you and Casey?" Sanchez
implored softly.
JD suddenly finally
bestowed with responsibility, found himself in a position to watch over one of
the seven. It put a whole new light on his confinement. Ezra needed him, he would not let the gambler down. "Yeah
of course."
Nathan shut the door
behind Casey as she headed back into the clinic. The healer then turned and
faced the preacher, "You must be taken lessons from Ezra." Nathan
chuckled, "You were very smooth."
The two men headed
down the steps and Josiah added, "Forever the student."
Josiah and Nathan
were soon joined by Chris, Vin and Buck. The early
afternoon sun had yet to effectively push it’s way
through the cloud cover. The heat wave seemed to have broken.
"Hey
boys!" Buck
exclaimed as he whirled into the room like a storm. Chris and Vin right behind him were a little less flamboyant. Tanner’s
conservative smile lit his face making him appear his usually friendly self.
Chris even with the forever stony expression appeared more approachable. The
threesome pulled up a chairs joining the healer and
preacher.
"Buck told us
his fever broke early this morning. He going to be okay?"
Vin asked as he poured himself and the others a social
shot of whiskey.
Nathan smiled and
nodded, "Should be." He paused as he munched on a biscuit Inez had
served him earlier. Josiah picked up the thread:
"JD and Casey
are keeping an eye on him for awhile."
Buck snorted and
commented, "Who’s gonna keep an eye on those
two?" This caused Vin and Nathan to choke.
"Well lets just hope they don’t wake Ezra." Josiah said. He
trusted the two youngsters and knew that their modesty would keep them from
dabbling in any kind of foolish exploration in the presence of the gambler
awake or not. Inez brought over a basket of fresh baked bread and laid it on
the table with churned butter.
"Inez, do you
think you could bring something up for Ezra in case he wakes up anytime
soon?" Chris asked. The young barmaid smiled and nodded. Larabee figured the presence of Inez would keep Casey and
JD honest. Josiah smiled knowingly at Chris nodding his head in agreement.
____________________________________
Inez pushed open the
door without knocking. The two youngsters sat whispering conspiratorially.
There heads snapped up at the intrusion.
"Good afternoon
Ms Casey and JD." She carried a tray of food enough for all the occupants
of the small clinic. Her eyes fell on the con man who
now slept on his right side. Beads of sweat spotted his forehead, face and
shoulders. His normally well kept hair stood up in various spots. Her gaze
lingered on him for a moment and then she remembered the two youngsters. She
smiled at them and brought the tray over to them. "I’ve made you something
to eat." She stared at JD and with a steely gaze said, "I hope you
eat it young Senor or Mr. Larabee said he and Mr.
Tanner would enjoy forcing it down you."
Casey muffled a
chuckle at JD’s look of horror.
"How is Senor
Standish?" Inez asked making her way over towards his bed. Casey answered
as JD inspected the food finding his stomach growling with hunger.
"He hasn’t
woken up yet, but he’s been rambling about cards, full houses, straights that
kind of thing." Casey left JD and joined Inez.
The Mexican barmaid
sat on the edge of the gamblers bed feeling for a fever. He felt okay. He
stirred under the touch mumbling about rats and cards. "Shh Senor Standish," she softly intoned waiting for
him to quiet down. He did so quickly. Inez smiled briefly to herself and left
the clinic.
_____________________________________
Ezra heard voices.
Fear gripped him, was he back in the clutches of his Uncle? He tried to control
his breathing. The voices continued and moved closer. Standish tried to open
his eyes but his eyelids felt so heavy. Almost to
heavy to lift.
"Hey I think
he’s waking up?" It sounded like Buck. Ezra blinked again still gamely
trying to open his eyes. He heard Buck call his name. A hand touched his
forehead. He tried to move his head and found even that was difficult but he
succeeded to some small minute degree.
"Buck?"
His voice sounded even foreign to him. His normally smooth drawl sounded harsh
and scratchy. His throat dry and constricted.
"Yeah
Pard’ right here."
Ezra finally managed
to open his eyes. He could not recall ever feeling so wiped out in his life.
Well a few occasions came to mind but he pushed them aside. It took a bit but
finally Wilmington’s features came into view.
"Hey welcome
back," Buck said. Wilmington sat on the edge of the bed a large mustached
grin creased his features. "Here have some water." Buck raised
Standish’s head off the pillow a eased some water
between dry lips. Standish for his part drank it greedily. "Whoa
easy Ezra that’s enough for now." The gunslinger laid the gambler’s
head back on the pillow. "Better?"
"Yes, Thank you." He smiled weakly but enough to bring out
his dimples. "JD?"
"Fine, he’s
outside sitting with Casey," Buck answered. Ezra noticed Buck’s black eye
and the cut that crossed the bridge of his nose.
"What happened
to you?" he asked, something nagging at his sleep drugged mind.
Buck smiled again
rubbing his eye and nose. "Ahh
nothing." Ezra saw movement behind the gunslinger and Josiah came
forward.
"You’re looking
better. How’ya feeling?" Standish stared at him for a moment and then
a memory came rushing to the forefront like a steaming locomotive. The two men
saw the sudden change of expression, something akin to fear and terror crossed
the pale features. "My uncle?" He asked
almost in a whisper.
Josiah placed a
reassuring hand on the younger man’s shoulder, "was never here."
Ezra looked at him
with disbelief, " I hit him with a rock."
His brow wrinkled with concentration trying to dredge up memories that were
spawned from fevered delirium.
"Rest assured
it was not him." Josiah calmly explained.
"Really? It seemed so real." He paused and took
in Buck’s beaten features and then he figured it out. "Thought you were my
cousin?"
Buck merely nodded
and joked, "You pack one hell of a punch."
A crook embarrassed
smile crossed Standish’s face, "sorry." His eyes grew heavy and sleep
tugged persistently at him. "Who’d I hit with the rock?" his voice
sounded distant and heavy with sleep.
He heard Josiah
chuckle and say, "Oh just Chris."
"Aww gawd he’s gonna
kill me." Ezra moaned and slipped back to sleep.
_________________________________
Chris Larabee strode out of the Clarion and gazed down the
street. His intense blue eyes settling on the clinic.
He squinted shading his eyes and realized Standish sat cross ways on the top
step leaning against the railing. His fever had broken yesterday morning and
Nathan said he’d be as weak as a newborn. It seemed true. The normally quick
witted smart mouthed southern con man could not handle a friendly conversation.
He slept mostly, waking only to eat and use the privy. Both
activities requiring aid. Chris had laughed when Josiah told him what
Ezra had said when the gambler learned he hit Larabee
with a rock. The gunslinger had yet to go make amends, every time he had
visited the con man, Ezra was sleeping.
Larabee made his way down the boardwalk and up the
clinic steps. Standish rested soundly, his head tilted back against the railing
his legs stretched out across the steps and rested against the opposite
railing. He wore Josiah’s coat. Chris shrugged it did not seem cold enough to
warrant a coat, especially Sanchez’s overcoat. But the gambler had been sick
and his system still fought to keep itself on an even keel. Larabee
settled two steps down and opened his book leaning against the outer railing.
He hoped Josiah and Nathan’s carpentry skill would not fail him.
Chris had read
approximately eleven pages when a startled yelp and quick motion above him
grabbed his attention. Larabee gazed up and watched
as Standish let out a strangle cry and bolted up right.
"Whoa
easy Ezra. You’re all
right." He reached up and laid a comforting hand on the gambler’s shin.
Standish jumped back even further bringing his legs up, his eyes snapped open roving
wildly. Larabee stood up cautiously, he knew all
about nightmares. "Easy Ezra, come on wake up." The gunslinger softy
whispered watching the bewildered green eyes blink and then stare wide eyed at
his surroundings. The green eyes fell on him. "Ezra you
with me?" Larabee had let his book slip
to the steps.
Since the coming to
his senses yesterday the gambler had not shown any signs of reliving his past,
until now. Larabee watched as Standish blinked a few
more times and finally asked with disbelief:
"Chris?"
"Yeah Ezra it’s
me, you ok?"
"Yes," It
was an unsure answer but as the gambler took in his surroundings and realized
he was back in four corners, back home, a more confident, "Yeah I’m fine.
Thirsty"
"I’ll have Inez
bring you up some water."
"Really Mr. Larabee I was hoping something along the line of a more
soothing libation, in a more relaxed atmosphere." Ezra slowly climbed to
his bare feet, Chris smiling but not overtly offering aid. Standish like the
others had his pride. He’d make it to his own feet Chris just wanted to make
sure that he did not tumble down the stairs. Nathan would be very upset.
Together the two men navigated the steps and headed toward the saloon.
"About the rock…,"
Ezra started to say.
Chris chuckled.
"I should be more watchful," Larabee stated,
halting any unnecessary apologies. Nathan said the stitches in Chris’s forehead
could come out in ten days. Standish smiled to himself, thankful Chris did not
intend to shoot him.
The two men took
seats with Buck and Vin at the customary table.
"Nice outfit
Ezra." Tanner commented dryly a smile cracking his features. Standish
peered down at himself, he wore the same pinstripe
pants with suspenders pulled up over his bare torso that he had been wearing
for the past couple of days. The suspenders were covered by Josiah’s giant
overcoat. His light brown hair stuck up on end, it had become unruly since he
fell asleep just after indulging in a bath a few hours back. A half smile
crossed Ezra’s pale features and he wiggled his bare feet under the table.
"Unfortunately
Mr. Jackson and Mr. Sanchez have not found it in their misplaced hearts to
allow me to find decent attire." Inez came to the table with four shots of
whiskey.
She bent down a
smile brushing her lips, "It is good to see you up and around Senor
Standish."
"Thank you
Inez."
The men enjoyed a
social drink making small talk, eventually discussing about the impending
transfer of the Terrell gang.
"Judge said
we’re to bring them up to BitterCreek, day after
tomorrow," Larabee said
"How many of us
go?" Buck asked. Though the gang had pretty much been shot and buried, but
they had friends and relatives.
"He wants all
of us," Chris answered. This caused an uncomfortable silence at the table.
JD obviously could not ride a saddle with a freshly broken leg. Ezra cocked an eyebrow at the leader of the
seven. He knew that if Chris asked him to ride he would, strange as it might
seem. Ezra was no fool either -- just to descend the steps and traverse the
boardwalk to the saloon left him in a sweat with trembling legs. A chill still ached his bones, despite the summer warmth he could not keep
warm. Chris had noticed the ease in which fatigue settled on the con man as
they made the short walk to the saloon. Larabee also
knew Standish disguised it under a cool facade, but he could not mask the
rolled shoulders and slowing steps or glistening of perspiration on his
features. Even as he lifted his shot glass the normally steady hands shuttered
slightly. It would be awhile before Standish would be up to the challenge of a
full day or nights work. "I already
wired the Judge, just waiting for his reply."
Ezra nodded and
started to sip his whiskey.
"What, in God’s
name!! do you think you are doing?!" The
unmistakable baritone exasperated voice of Nathan Jackson roared through the
saloon. Buck and Vin dropped their eyes both glad they
were not the target of the explosion. Larabee with
his back to the saloon door smiled at the apparently unperturbed gambler.
Josiah Sanchez’s soft rumbling laughter rolled like thunder on the heels of the
on coming storm. Inez from behind the bar smiled as Josiah winked at her in a
conspiratorial manner.
"Have you lost
your mind?" Nathan briskly cut across the saloon to the table. He reached
down to grab the whiskey glass from the gambler’s hand but Ezra quickly tossed
back the fiery liquid grimacing at its sharp passage down his gullet. Jackson
quickly pulled the now empty glass out of the gambler’s wielding hand. "You trying to kill yourself?" The healer intoned
harshly Ezra merely raised his eyebrows in an innocent fashion. "Don’t you
give me that look." He hissed. Standish laid it
on thicker.
"Easy
brother." Josiah
intoned softly, ever the calming influence.
"Easy?! Easy?! We’ve been trying to get him back on
his feet for over three days!" He turned and fixed the gambler with a
deadly stare and hissed, "Three very tiring days." He turned his
attention back to the other men, who suddenly found their hands very
interesting. For their part they felt both sorry and worried for their gambling
friend. "And now y’all have him out drinking whiskey. What’s next
poker?"
"Speaking of
which.." Ezra produced a deck of cards seemingly
out of thin air and was about to ask if anyone wanted to play. A wicked smile
cut his features. Larabee bit back a chuckle.
Standish always had to push the line.
"Don’t you dare." Jackson seethed, "you are going back to get
some sleep."
"Mr. Jackson,
your concern, while touching is not necessary I feel fine." Standish replied
smiling broadly his gold premolar sparkling.
"Yeah well when
you fall on your face you can be rest assured I’ll hog tie you down to a
bed." Nathan pulled up a chair and much to Ezra dismay sat beside him.
This received
chuckles from around the group. Standish nodded grimly. Actually he was feeling
very tired, he had to stay awake. Ezra Standish would not give in, not easily
admit defeat. He started dealing cards.
_________________________________
"Hey
Ezra who’s Captain Joe?" JD asked. He had joined the group twenty minutes earlier. Chris, Vin and Nathan no longer participated in the card games.
Josiah watched amused as Ezra had turned the few cents he had found in the
preacher’s coat into a few dollars. JD held his now newly dealt hand and did not
see the shocked and openly dismayed expression on the gambler’s face.
Buck vowed he would
have a talk with the youngest member of the seven later.
Ezra swallowed
peered at his cards briefly and then at the others. Finally a crooked smile
crossed his dimpled features and he met Nathan with an amused stare, "That
far gone?"
Nathan suddenly felt
embarrassed, many people revealed private demons or fears in fits of delirium.
Nathan normally kept those secrets to himself. In Standish’s case his violent
and active reaction to the fever had forced
"Well now
Captain Joe... and may I assume a Ms. Kate?" He looked to Nathan but it
was Josiah who nodded. Standish grimaced in understanding it must have been the
preacher who had been with him at that particular point. Ezra wondered how much
he had actually revealed about himself to these men and how much would he have to further expose in order to placate JD’s
curiosity.
"Captain Joe
and Ms. Kate were benevolent people who gave me a place to stay for awhile, on
the coast." There he said it.
"Really? Wow. How long did you get to stay with
them?" JD’s enthusiasm nearly caused the conman to groan.
"A
little over a year."
"How old were
you?" Dunne asked forgetting about the cards he held. The others sat
quietly watching, waiting for Standish to quickly put an end to the line of
questions.
"Approximately
five." This took the
others by surprise. He had been shuttled from home to home at an early age.
Before JD could ask
another question, Josiah jumped in, " JD you gonna
talk or play cards." This effectively cut off any more conversation.
For
almost half a minute.
"Hey Ezra you
still have that harmonica?"
Ezra merely groaned
and laid his head on the table in resignation. Next time he got a fever he
hoped he had enough sense to wonder off somewhere alone.
Five minutes later
Standish still had his head buried in his arms on the card table. The game had
been suspended. "I think he fell asleep." Chris said cocking his head
sideways watching the gambler. Ezra had not moved, the
deck of cards slipped through slack fingers. "yup
I’d say you’re right Chris." Nathan agreed watching the con man with a
critical eye.
"Hey Nathan you
aren’t really going to hog tie him down, are you?" Vin
asked slightly concerned for the southerner.
Buck and Josiah
hauled the mumbling and unsteady gambler to his feet. He swayed weak-kneed,
worse than any drunken cowboy on a Friday night.
"He’s out but
good." Buck said tossing the blankets back up around the bare shoulders.
Both turned when
"He’s not going
anywhere now."
Ezra woke feeling
refreshed. He rolled onto his back and stretched. He tried to draw his legs up
but found only one moved freely. His left leg was firmly attached to something.
Standish panicked at first until Josiah’s face peered down at him smiling.
"Sleep
well?" he watched Standish try to move his left foot again, to no avail.
Then Standish remembered
"He didn’t...,
He wouldn’t dare," Standish muttered in frustrated indignation, bolting
up. He sat up so fast, he became dizzy. Josiah grabbed him and easily steadied him.
"Easy
son." Sanchez
lowered him back onto the bed.
Ezra gazed up at the
preacher and simply said, "I thought we had that straightened out."
Josiah laughed good naturedly bringing a smile to the gambler. "Yeah, on both accounts. He made good on his threat." Josiah
paused and stated, "It’s worked so far. You haven’t been wandering around
up to any roof tops or sleeping on steps."
Ezra smiled and
added, "or saloons." He stretched again
yawning and arching his back. His stomach growled.
"You should be
hungry." Sanchez said helping Standish sit up and rest against the head
board. JD slept quietly in the next bed. It was then the gambler noticed the
light outside. Early morning. How could that be?
"How long have
I been asleep?"
"Fourteen
hours. It’s about four in the morning." Sanchez said as he uncovered the
breakfast that Inez had just brought up. The independent barmaid had sat with
the gambler half the night watching him sleep. When he started to climb out of
the depths of deep slumber she left to cook up breakfast leaving it with
Josiah. "Chris and the others are going to deliver what’s left of the
Terrell gang up to Bitter Creek." He handed a jellied biscuit to the
southerner.
"Mr. Larabee worked his magical charm on the judge and pardoned
me from such drudgery."
Josiah smiled and
nodded, "He told the Judge you would just pass out and cause more trouble
than you’re worth. The Judge agreed."
Standish rolled his
eyes and shook his head.
_________________________________
It took two days of
frustration, and an endless string of obscenities before the gambler freed his
foot from the rope. It would have been much sooner except he had no endurance,
and therefore, slept often. The first thing he did once free was get a bath,
change his clothes and join the life he had grown comfortable with in the
saloon. By that time Larabee, Tanner and
The next few nights
they could be found sitting with the gambler playing relaxed games of poker.
Chris had noticed, though Ezra was itching to get back to his usual table of
higher stakes poker, but he held himself in check and took things slower. He
tired easily, his dexterity not a hundred percent, yet even on these off nights
he won more hands than he lost. JD joined them, and much to Ezra’s relief asked
no more prying questions. Buck knew the kid wanted more answers but refrained,
Nathan hovered over two without trying to appear to. Whenever,
Standish stifled a yawn
_______________________________________
The End