Ezra had given up on clear thought. He just kept walking. His shoulders burned, his neck felt like strained coiled rope. He did not notice the change in light. Did not notice that the path he had trod apon became a road. His peripheal vision had shut down and the buildings and board walks to his left and right went unnoticed. All he had to do was take another step. Anyone could take another step. He bumped into an obstacle. He wanted to lean into it, but then he would not take another step, he had a rhythm, he needed another step. He stepped to the side and continued forward. Again he hit an obstacle. It seemed to grab him. It would be ok to lean just a little then he could take another step.
JD burst through the batwing doors, "Nathan, Chris, Josiah get out here quick!" The urgency in the young sheriff was like a bomb. The room fell quiet. The three men wasted no time leaving their chairs and headed out the doors after the sheriff. The saloon occupants quickly went back to their activity. Except Inez, she kept taking quick darting glances at the door.
Nathan swore at what he saw. Buck had intercepted Ezra. Standish had his head bowed under the weight of the unconscious tracker. The gambler tried to walk around Willimington but Buck stepped infront of him again.
Josiah, Chris and Nathan raced to Buck’s side. They could hear Buck trying to talk to Standish, make him understand he was back in town. Instead the conman just leaned into the gunslinger and tried to take another step.
"Whoa, whoa easy there pard’ you made it home." Buck gazed over his shoulder at the fast approaching threesome.
"Josiah get Vin." Nathan said as he stopped beside Willimington.
Sanchez tried to ease the tracker off the gambler’s shoulders. Ezra felt the shift in weight and tried to accommodate it by moving underneath it again. He would not drop the Vin. Vin would never drop him. Josiah shook his head, he understood what the gambler was trying to do. "Easy brother let me get Vin." He tried again to lift Tanner from Standish’s shoulders but again Ezra slid underneath, tightening his hold, trying his best to keep Tanner from hitting the ground. Buck grabbed the gambler’s arm holding him still as Josiah tried once again to pry the unconscious form from the gambler’s bent shoulders. He was successful this time.
"No. no. no." Standish buried his head in Willimingtons’ chest his legs slowly giving out allowing his body to melt toward the ground. All the time shaking his head denying he was loosing his bet. Buck guided and followed him down all the while trying to convince the stubborn southerner he had made it to town.
mmm7mmm
Josiah hefted the weight in his arms to a more manageable position and then quickly carried the tracker toward the clinic. Larabee followed hot on his heels. Nathan made to go but stopped and turned back toward Willimington, "Buck get Ezra up here too." The gunslinger merely nodded never turning around. Jackson satisfied his request would be carried out trotted after Chris, Josiah and Vin.
JD stood behind Ezra staring at Buck. Even by light of the full moon he could make out the thick layer of dust that coated the southerner. His blue tailored jacket which had been tied around standish’s head, appeared to be a smokey grey. Dunne silently wondered what had happened to Ezra’s prized low crown black hat. He did not notice Vin in one. JD watched as Buck tried to talk sense into the conman. Even on a good day that was hard to do, unless Ezra had already made up his mind to listen.
"Ezra you’re ok. You made it back. Vin’s safe." Wilimington matched JD’s gaze with a helpless look. He really did not know what to do. Standish would not lift his head, would not look Wilimington in the eye. Buck pushed Ezra’s coat off his head and then forced the dusty face to look at him. "Ezra, we’re right here. You made it to town." Buck smiled in relief at the questioning gaze that stared owlishly back at him.
The conman furrowed his brow and raised a shaky dirty hand. He pushed delicately on Buck’s shoulder. Was he real or just another hallucination. The form infront of him had substance. Standish’s trembling dirty hand hit something solid.
Wilimington allowed himself to totter back a few inches. A slow unsteady crooked smile crossed Ezra’s features. He blinked and rubbed his eyes leaning back on his shins. "Buck?" It came out hoarse at best, barely a whisper.
Buck and JD both smiled, "Yeah Ezra it’s me." Wilimington grasped the conman’s chin and turned it left and right making sure there were no obvious cuts on his head. Standish brushed the hand irritably away, "Cut it out." He rasped out. JD nodded, ‘yup Ezra was back,’ he thought.
"Come on Ezra lets get you up to Nathan let him check you out." Buck hauled the gambler to his feet by his upper arms. JD grabbed the other arm and helped. Standish struggled briefly for a moment trying to free his arms and then stopped. It seemed no use he would be forced against his will to the dreaded clinic. "Vin?"
"Already there." JD answered. He could feel the heat eminate from the cardshark’s body. He wondered if it was a fever or some kind of heat stroke. Dunne stared openly at Standish. The gambler walked like an old man, stooped shoulders and a shuffling limping gait. He could not hide his curiosity any longer, "what happened out there?" JD just shrugged at Buck’s raised eyebrows. There was time enough for questions once they knew he was ok.
"Ambushed by four men, we got two of them." Standish breathed out. His thirst not forgotten. Suddenly his dull green eyes spotted a water trough. With a last ditch effort he pulled his arms free of Buck and JD and ran the best he could ,dragging one foot, for the trough. Before Wilimington and Dunne could stop him, he dunked his head into the warm water and began taking huge gulps of water.
" Aww Ezra don’t do that." Buck yelled running over to the hunched gambler. He forcefully pulled the gambler from the trough. Standish fell to the ground and tried to scramble back to the glorious water. He never thought plain horse trough water could taste so good. The gunslinger pushed him back. "Cut it out Ezra you’re gonna make yourself sick."
JD grabbed one of his arms and together he and Buck hauled Standish back to his feet.
"Now just quit," Buck was saying leading the struggling gambler back to the second story clinic, "you ain’t doin’ ya self any good." Buck no sooner got the words out then without warning Standish’s stomach forcefully returned the unwelcomed water.
Ezra’s knees buckled, his stomach heaving for all its worth. It rebelled against the sudden weight and stretching. Buck and JD let him slip to the ground on hands and knees. With arched back, curled fists and forehead buried in the dirt, Ezra groaned as his stomach retched. It made sure it was empty with a few dry heaves. Buck sighed and swallowed, he had been there before. It was extremely hard to ignore the primal impulses for water when one had been deprived for so long, but the body was as fickle as women, or so Buck figured, sometimes, it says it wants something and then throws it right back at you.
"You through?" Buck inquired once Standish settled back onto his haunches. Ezra merely nodded, not having the strength to lift his head. His body shook from the sudden excersion, muscles quivered and he suddenly felt very cold. Once again Buck and JD eased him to his feet.
Nathan and Josiah had Vin stretched out on the bed. Josiah had washed the tracker’s head wound as Jackson gathered the equipment that he would need. Larabee pulled Tanner’s boots and socks off. Everytime he touched the tracker small clouds of dust rose up. For his part Vin groaned and occasionally moved a foot. Sanchez tried to revive the young man with no success.
"Ok Josiah let me get a look." Jackson said as he and Josiah switched spots. Sanchez held a lantern close to Tanner’s head giving Nathan the benefit of all the light he could. Nathan seperated the wound checking it’s depth, palpated the surrounding tissue for any apparent fractures. So far so good. He tried to check the pupils but the lighting just was not sufficient.
Nathan then did a quick cursory exam before straightening up. "Concussion at least, no broken bones, dehydrated some,heat affecting him too." Nathan peered down at his patient and then up at Chris. Jackson smiled reassuringly, "he just needs some rest. When he comes too we have to keep him awake for awhile."
Larabee nodded silently and then asked, "You gonna stitch that wound?" He pointed to the deep furrow that marred the trackers forehead.
"Nope it’s a pretty dirty wound," He paused and smiled at Josiah with an apology, "not that you did not do a good job but there is just to much fine dust and if I close that wound it’ll just fester and abcess."
Sanchez quickly nodded, he took no offense. Then the clinic door was kicked open, grabbing the attention of the rooms occupants, except Vin.
Buck and JD had finally been forced to drap Standish’s arms around their shoulders. He had cried out weakly when they lifted his arms slightly above his shoulders. The gambler now slumped between the two men, his left leg dragging behind them, bearing no weight.
"Where you want him Nathan?" Wilimington hissed out. Standish’s trim form belied his apparent weight, the guy was a ton.
"Over there on the cot." Jackson left Larabee and the preacher to settle Vin and crossed the room to check on the gambler.
"What happened?" Nathan asked as he started examing Standish. On hearing the question, Ezra groaned, not again, and rolled his head weakly from the healers grip. Jackson rolled his eyes. Why did he have to deal with Tanner and Standish at the same time, both were obstinate and rebellious patients.
"He drank from the trough and then puked his guts out." Wilimington said going to check on the tracker.
Jackson cursed quietly, some instincts could not be ignored, even when it was for the best. He stared back down at his groggy patient. Ezra’s eyes were half hooded, he fought to keep them open occasionally lifting a hand only to drop it soundly at his side. Josiah soon joined the healer and together they stripped the gambler of his shirt ,just has they had done Tanner. His chest bore the fresh scars from last weeks misadventure.
The boots were a challenge. The right one slid off without a struggle. When Josiah lifted the left, Standish moaned and tried to pull his foot away. "Easy Ezra." Jackson said holding the gambler down. Josiah then pulled the boot off. Standish’s green eyes snapped wide open.
Standish let out a strangled holler and shot straight up throwing himself off the bed. He crashed into Nathan and both tumbled to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Ezra grabbed for his left leg and continued to roll trying to free himself from whatever grabbed for him.
"Owowowowow." rapid fire spilled from the gambler’s dry lips as he gripped his thigh. He tried to sit up but found himself to weak and settled for curling into tight ball trying to cradle his injured leg rocking back and forth.
"Easy brother, you’re alright." Sanchez’s baritone voice soothed sounding off the walls as he knelt beside the gambler. "Had to get that boot off you know."
"Alright my ass," Standish hissed between clenched teeth burying his head in his chest. Nausea ripped through him again. Ezra feared he would be sick.
"Lets get you back on the cot." The preacher pulled the younger man from under the arms and dragged him back to the cot.
"Damn that hurts." Standish hissed as Josiah plopped him back onto the small bed. Nathan climbed slowly to his feet giving the conman a wary look.
Standish smiled sheepishly still laying on his left side hunched over, "sorry, Nathan." He still gripped his leg fiercly trying to stave off the pounding pain in his ankle.
"Its alright Ezra, just figured you wouldn’t want us cutting your nice boots off." Jackson smiled weakly. He wished Josiah had warned him some.
"Alright lets get a look at that foot." Nathan moved to the foot of the bed. From the gambler’s general appearance, he suffered from the effects of the heat and dehydration just like Vin maybe slightly worse. Jackson made to touch the grossly swollen ankle but Standish pulled it back.
"Lets not." His southern drawl suddenly sounded wary between clenched teeth. Standish had been forced to lay back unable to keep himself sitting up. His abdominal and back muscles had put out enough effort today and would not easily give anymore.
"Ezra don’t make this anymore difficult than it has to be." Jackson said tiredly. He had along night ahead of him and did not relish spending it arguing with the southerner.
"It does not have to be difficult, Mr. Jackson I merely twisted it. Moving it left and right and bending it up and down will only cause me great discomfort. Though you’ll probably take great pleasure in it, you’ll find no broken bones." Ezra said slightly peeved, he felt winded. Ezra knew what he was in for and for the first time that day felt envious of the tracker.
Nathan sighed. Why did it have to be the difficult ones. At least Vin was unconscious. If it had been JD, Buck could bully him into paying attention. Buck and Chris would force compliance on one another and Josiah hardly ever got sick. Vin and Ezra proved to be the incorrigable ones. Vin glared at you silently the whole time and was just plain onery about being cared for. He answered everything with one syllable grunts or one word, said everything was fine, nothing hurt, though even a blind man could see the pain. Standish ,however, did not trust anything, thought there was an angle to every act of kindness, some debt to be paid, or so Nathan suspected. The man was combative, independent and like the tracker just onery. The more you pushed the more he balked, the more you explained the more he became suspicious.
"Ezra shut up and let Nathan do what he has to." Larabee tiredly said from across the room. He had kept his eye on the conman from the time Buck and JD hauled him in to the room. Chris sat beside Vin as Buck related Ezra’s short tale about the ambush. The gunslinger, however, never switched his gaze from the gambler. The man was full of surprises, unpredictable. He had proved it last week in a dangerous foolhardy manuever, and once again today. Who would have thought he had the determination, and endurance to carry Tanner back to town.
Josiah watched as Ezra clenched his teeth at the sudden order. If there was one thing the conman did not do well that was take direction. Offer a suggestion, not a problem, force his hand and he dug his heals into the ground. Sanchez had seen it before when his father preached his fire and brimstone. Some were bullied into their faith, others followed like sheep and still others turned their backs and walked away. The expreacher had learned early, he would reach more people with simple logic and understanding than with lightening and force. Ezra would push back if shoved. The preacher reached for a bottle of Laudenum. Nathan nodded his consent.
"Here Ezra drink some of this." Before Standish could argue Josiah poured the foul liquid down the southerner. Standish sputtered and wiggled but the preacher easily held him still. Finally, unable to hold out any longer the gambler was forced to swallow. Reflexes took over and another gulp quickly followed the first, followed by yet another. Josiah pulled the bottle back satisfied the gambler had swallowed some of the medicine.
"That dubious sir was not nice." He sputtered. " Not nice at all." Standish wiped his mouth on Josiah’s sleeve. A small token of revenge. "What happened to treating your lambs gently."
"Your no lamb Ezra." Sanchez intoned smiling pleased with himself. He had managed to get more than a full dose down the smaller man. Josiah and Nathan stood leaving the conman laying on the cot. It would be a few minutes before the sedative and painkilling effects of the opiate would take hold.
Larabee saw his chance to talk to Standish about the events of the day. Chris pulled a chair over and sat by the side of the cot. He gazed down at the dust covered features. The water from the trough did very little to clean his countenance. A peeved expression seemed to have been frozen on his face. Ezra did not like being forced into anything. Chris had to silently agree. Who did?
"You want to tell me what happened today?"
Standish stared up at the formidable leader of the group. Ezra did not envy this man. Larabee had traveled down some hellish roads and paid dearly for the trip in the form of sleepless nights and haunted days. The past only seemed a thought away. Larabee kept it under control for the most part until it became to much to bare and then he found solace in whiskey. A liquid retreat that only afforded him a partial night of rest before the drunken stupor would wear off. Ezra did respect him though, respected him more than he had ever respected anyone in his life. Most people were not worth the effort of trust and friendship let alone duty and loyalty. Something in the dark clad gunfighter pulled Standish onto the path of trust and duty. Not that Ezra did not put up one heck of a fight but somehow Chris had managed where so many others had failed. Larabee was tenatious if anything, like a dog with a bone. Standish laughed at the thought.
Chris raised his eyebrows at the slight chuckle that escaped the conman. Maybe the laudenum was working faster than they thought. "You alright Ezra?"
Standish merely shrugged at the question. Of course he was not alright, he felt liked fried chitlins, his foot hurt, his back and shoulders complained with every movement and Josiah ,the big oaf, forced Laudenum down him. Now Larabee was staring at him like he was personally responsible for the days events. Of course he was not alright. "I’m fine."
Larabee let the falsehood go, "What happened out there?"
Ezra closed his eyes and sighed reopened them and started, "We made it to Junction City fine. Concluded our business with the sheriff and the army. They had a marvelous saloon, but," he paused remembering the gaming tables and the crowd, pulled himself back and continued, "Vin wanted to get back. The man is incorrigable does not like crowds one bit." Ezra took a breath again, finding it a little more difficult to focus his thoughts and eyes, damn Josiah, " We were headed back, and of course up and moving at first light, today." He gazed up at Larabee’s wavering features trying to keep them in perspective, "why must we always travel at first light why not mid morning or a more convient time?"
Chris held back a smile. The medicine had finally begun to kick it. The southern drawl had become thickened and slightly slurred. He watched as Standish blinked repeatidly widening his eyes trying to keep things in focus. "Because it is to hot to travel later in the day." Chris informed him.
"Yes, Mr. Tanner something very similar to that." Ezra ran a hand over his face trying to keep himself coherent. " We made maybe four miles, still in the thick of the pondersa pines when people just started firing at us." Chris watched as Standish’s eyes began to flutter close. He struggled to keep them open, he fought to keep the effects of the opiate at bay. The gunslinger watched amused , Standish fought against everything.
"Its not gonna work this time." Ezra muttered, he would not fall victim to the drug.
"Ahuh." Chris replied, no sense fighting now. The heavily hooded eyes finally fluttered closed. But he suddenly mummbled, "wake me tomorrow morning I’ve got a promise to keep." In a few minutes his breathing leveled out and a soft snore escaped partially ajar lips. Larabee sighed, and stood up, "He’s all yours."
mmm7mmm
Nathan nodded patiently gathered his wraps and then gazed over at Josiah, "Why does he have to fight everything? Can’t he see we’re just trying to help him?"
Josiah sighed, "I suspect Brother Nathan, any aid Ezra encountered before us, came with a steep price. He’s just not willing to pay."
Vin came too late in the evening. He was disoriented and confused. Nathan watched as the tracker blinked and try to focus uncooperative eyes. Jackson placed the latern on the table beside the bed throwing the room into soft flickering shadows. Standish still slept across the room buried under a mound of blankets with his foot propped up on pillows.
"Hey Vin how you feelin’?"
"Nathan?" the Texan’s drawl was hoarse at best barely a whisper.
"Yeah, you’re ok now, you’re back at town." Jackson reassured. "How ya feel?"
"My head hurts. What happened?" Vin tried to rub absently at the cut that adorned his forhead but Nathan easily prevented by laying a hand over Tanner’s.
"You and Ezra got ambushed early yesterday morning?" Nathan answered trying to gage the level of awareness from the younger man infront of him. "You remember any of it?"
"Ambushed? Ezra ok?" Vin asked still furrowing his brow trying to recall something.
"Yeah he’s fine. It’s you I’m worried about." Nathan smiled.
"Why’s my head hurt?" Tanner asked again fighting to keep his eyes open.
Nathan nodded to himself, he expected this, "you’re ok Vin just get some rest." The healer watched as his patient drifted easily back to sleep. Jackson shook his head, he would have to go through it again in an hour. He adjusted the blanket around his own shoulders and leaned back in the padded rocker Mary had given him ages ago. He shivered slightly the temperature had dropped to near freezing.
Ezra woke to a pounding headache it matched the throbbing in his foot. "Aww hell." he moaned quietly to himself. He slept on his left side, facing out into the room. Not his room, the clinic. Then the memories of yesterday came flooding back. Vin! Standish quickly craned his neck backward, immediately regretting the action as muscles complained. He relaxed as much as possible, when he saw Vin in the bed across the room with Nathan sleeping in the rocker. A half smile crept across Standish’s reddened tanned features, Nathan hovered over his patients with the same intensity Larabee chased down criminals.
The morning air was sharp and crisp and so Standish huddled back down in the comfort of the bedding. Funny he mused, how just yesterday he nearly baked liked blackened catfish now this morning it seemed just a little above freezing. Thankgod he they made it home. Then he remembered his promise. His stomach turned and he bit his lip. He really did not want to venture outside. Everything hurt, everything ached, he felt run down, and beat up. Besides it was too early. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and stared out at the ever lightening grey pink sky. The sun had not even come up. The blankets slid off his bare shoulders. He shuddered at the sudden coldness and lay back down under the covers. He could just lay here a few more minutes.
He made a promise. Ezra Standish closed his eyes in resignation and quietly forced himself out of the confines of the bed.
Chris Larabee stood just within the door way of the saloon. He leaned against the wall peering over othe batwing doors. He enjoyed early mornings. They were peaceful, no troubles, no people, no real noise. In an hour or so that would all change. The town would begin to wake, people would trickle into the streets, shops would open, the kids would start in on the stalls at the livery, and Hans would fire up his blacksmith forge. Now however, in the predawn light the new day was at its most tranquil time. The best time of day.
Chris wrinkled his brow when a figure moved down the street. Hobbled would be more like it. He almost did not recognized the dirty clad individual that wore only one boot, but the size and determination left only one possiblity. "What the hell is he doing?" Chris asked himself quietly his eyes following the slow unsteady progress of the gambler.
Standish never saw the first rays of daylight unless he still occupied a seat at the gaming tables or unless someone was hauling him forcefully from his bed. Larabee smiled those were times he greatly relished. Like early mornings, the gambler made very little noise when roused from his slumber, after the intial shock. Almost as if his brain and more importantly his mouth refused to function before eight am. Most times he just glared murderous looks and did as was asked tight lipped or slightly mummbling but normally without a fight. Once his mouth finally kicked into gear, then watch out, any hope of a tranquil day was shot. Standish would complain and moan enough to cause a nun to curse. It was a double edged sword.
Chris watched the gambler disappear into the livery. A few moments later he exited riding Chaucer bare back. With piqued curiosity Chris placed down his coffee cup and followed him.
Larabee held back his dark bay shadowing the conman. After a little over three miles, the gunslinger realized the gamblers destination. Chris remembered Ezra’s last drug induced muttered words, he had a promise to keep. Larabee reined his horse in just out of sight of the gambler and watched in confused fascination.
Ezra slid from Chaucer’s back. He landed gently on his right foot, delicately placing the tightly wrapped left one on the ground. No splint, not fractured just like he had told them last night. No smile creased his features. He lead his horse to a bramble and drapped the reins over the bush. It was unnecessary, he and Chaucer had been together for well over five years. If Standish had ever thought of a true and trusted friend he thought of his horse. With his quarter horse somewhat secured he turned back to the task at hand.
The bay lay on her side. When the gambler approached her she shifter her frail weight onto her chest. Her injured right front leg tucked protectively beside her. Her dark sorrel coat had been completely transformed to a desert grey. Dust coated her entire body smudging any contrast that existed between her black mane and tail and chestnut body. She watched him as he approached her slowly talking as he would to a small child. His southern accent taking on softer lilting tones, so not to fighten the animal. She had not gone far from where he and Vin had left her. No, Ezra corrected himself, abandoned her. His saddle and gear lay only a few yards off the trail somewhat hidden from view by brush.
Standish petted the horse’s neck, a small plume of dust left off her ,at his touch. She watched him warily. The gambler knelt down and inspected the now grossly swollen appendage. He placed the bridle back on her, and gently tried to urge her to her feet. With a few tries and soft but firm encouragement the horse gained it’s feet. The right front dangled uselessly, taking an odd angle at the cannon bone. Ezra shut his eyes. She had not been that bad off when he left her. He searched the immediate area and found the offending goffer hole. He patted her nose again whispering his apologies. The gambler stepped back, pulled his revolver. Drawing an imaginary line from the lateral part of her eye to the opposite ear and doing the same with the other eye, and invisible X was made. Standish raised the gun, X marked the spot, and squeezed the trigger.
The roar of the gun shattered the peacefulness of the morning. Chaucer snapped his head up, ears forward watching his master. Content he himself was not indanger went back to foraging through the foliage for something to eat. Standish watched as the bay’s legs buckled, a forceful breath was expelled from its lungs and it crashed to the earth in a heap. Very little blood seeped from the wound but blood poured from both nostrils. The eyes had rolled and then came back fixed and dilated. It tottered for a second on its chest and then rolled onto her side. She was dead before she hit the ground. Standish uttered another apology, holstered his gun and set about the task of saddling Chaucer.