Learning to Improvise… Chapter 5

by Katherine

Nathan wiped his hand across his brow in a futile effort to remove the accumulated sweat. The day had started out cool but had gotten progressively hotter, the evaporation of the previous day’s rain adding an unusually heavy humidity to the mix. Being up on Nettie’s roof totally exposed to the harsh southwestern sun had not helped matters.

The healer sighed softly, stretching out a kink in his back as he glanced over to where Vin was efficiently hammering yet another row of shingles into place. The tracker was handy to have around, skilled at many of the day to day tasks that living in the West required. He moved with an economy of motion, setting a pace that made it possible to accomplish a great deal without wasting time or energy. It was a skill that Nathan sometimes envied. He shook his head. Best to get back to work if we want to get done today.

His attention was captured by the sound of Casey’s laughter. She was sitting under a nearby tree with Ezra. The gambler was gesturing as he talked, clearly using those motions to add to whatever he was saying. Nathan couldn’t hear what was said, but suspected it was likely some outlandish tall tale.

He snorted. Bet that man never lifted a hammer or toted anything in his whole life. Living the life o’ ease in some big house while me and my kind busted our asses in the hot sun. Can’t understand how he and Vin ever got together. Ain’t like the two o’ them have much in common. Seem right happy together…least so far as I can tell, so maybe having stuff in common isn’t that big a deal for them.

Vin glanced over at him. "Somethin’ wrong, Nate?

"No, Vin, nothing’s wrong." Nathan answered. "Just hot."

Vin nodded in agreement before returning to his earlier working rhythm. Never what one would call talkative, it wasn’t unusual for the Texan to say little. Although, lately Nathan found his friend’s silence unnerving. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he had the distinct impression that Vin wasn’t quiet simply because he didn’t feel the need to talk. It felt more like the tracker didn’t want to talk to him.

The healer frowned as he went back to work mulling over the problem, examining it from every angle, looking for what he might have done to offend Vin. Nathan had seen little of either Vin or Ezra since the conversation in the clinic. He realized with a start that other than to check on Ezra’s still healing injuries, and at their communal meals, he’d not seen either man. He hammered in a nail with more force than necessary as he realized that both men had been avoiding him.

Nathan frowned trying to figure out why. When they talked in the clinic he thought things were okay between them. At least they had parted on good terms as far as he knew. Nathan realized that he’d probably started things off wrong. But he was just looking out for a friend. Making sure the tracker hadn’t been suckered into some nefarious scheme Ezra had concocted, or been seduced by the less than scrupulous gambler.

Nathan pursed his lips, reaching for the next shingle. Ezra had seemed to understand Nathan’s position that it wasn’t personal, that sometimes Ezra’s accent and mannerism just reminded Nathan of people and places he’d rather forget. It was something the healer did find genuinely surprising. Never would have thought he’d be the sort ta understand that. Didn’t figure a man like him would have suffered much in his life that he didn’t want to remember.

What had insulted Ezra more was the idea he was using Vin. But oddly enough, the gambler seemed more inclined to understand Nathan’s position far better than Vin had. Ezra seemed quick to realize that the former slave had not meant to offend, that his limited experience with same sex relationships was less than stellar and had colored his thinking. Didn’t think he’d still be angry over that. To be fair, most of the time Ezra can be as easygoing as Buck. Neither one of them are the type to hold a grudge for long. At least I didn’t think so. Didn’t figure he’d take to avoiding me, that’s for sure. Course, I don’t really know that he has been doin’ that. Man’s been takin’ it easy, resting like I told him to. And we don’t usually cross paths all that often outside o’ the saloon. So, maybe I’m reading more into his not being around than there really is.

The healer bit his lip. Vin might well be another story altogether. Nathan thought over what he’d said in the clinic, and how it was said. Guess no man likes to be thought of as being too stupid or naïve to be able to take care of himself. And I pretty much came right out and told Vin I thought that. Wasn’t what I meant, but it did sound that way.

Even at the time Nathan was aware he’d made a mistake. He had tried to make amends, apologizing for what he’d said. He’d thought that was enough, but realized maybe more was required. I know Vin has to be avoiding me. Normally, I see more of him than I have lately. Only reason he’d got to be doing that would be if he was still mad at me.

Nathan decided the best course of action would be to confront Vin. He had to find a way to fix this. He really didn’t want to ruin their friendship, and if he let this continue he was sure that would be the end result. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

"Vin?"

The tracker looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I think ya just did." Vin smirked, his smile reminiscent of one Ezra sometimes wore. "But feel free ta ask another one iffen ya still wanna."

Nathan shook his head. "I think you’re hanging around Ezra too much. You’re starting to sound like him."

Vin just laughed quietly. "I was a wise ass long ‘fore me and Ez got together Nate." The sharpshooter pinned him with a frank look, sky blue eyes unwavering. "Not some babe in arms, ya know. Been on my own since I was five, an’ I learned a thing or two along the way ‘bout sassing people."

Nathan winced. Yep. He’s still mad at me. He couldn’t help himself as he pointed out, "I said I was sorry."

Vin snorted. "Yeah, ya did. But I’m not sure ya know what you should be sorry for."

"Meaning?" Nathan frowned, not understanding Vin’s statement.

Vin laid down his hammer and turned to sit so he faced Nathan directly. "Tell me what exactly yer apologizing for."

That stopped Nathan cold. He thought it was obvious. Evidently what he was thinking showed on his face because Vin glared at him. The healer shifted slightly, uncomfortable being on the receiving end of that look.

"Are ya sorry you thought Ezra was like that bastard you knew? Even after a year of working with the man, you still don’t know him any better than that." Vin’s voice was soft, but there was an intensity to it carrying every word to Nathan easily. "You all but told him you don’t think of him as being any better than yer former master. That you think o’ him as being just like those people you spent most of yer life hatin’. How in the hell do you think that made him feel? You even give a damn about that?"

The healer flinched. The gambler had said he understood, and Nathan had been more than willing to let it go at that. He had been far too focused on his own concerns, his own perceptions, and hadn’t honestly considered how Ezra might have felt. He also hadn’t expected Vin to be angry on Ezra’s behalf either. In hindsight, he realized he should have. It was a logical assumption that a man willing to lay his life on the line for his friends would go to even greater lengths for his lover.

"Ain’t his fault that he speaks like he comes from the South. He does come from the South. How is he s’posed to talk?" Vin’s expression was an odd mixture of anger and disappointment. Nathan found the disappointment hit him much harder than the anger. Before he could even think of a response the tracker had already continued speaking.

"And Ezra has got manners. Nothing wrong with his using ‘em, and acting like a gentleman. But you made it sound there was something wrong with him being polite. Made it sound like it was his fault he reminds you of people and stuff you’d rather forget. Well, it ain’t his fault. Not by a long shot."

The lanky Texan’s lip curled, all trace of disappointment gone, eyes flashing now with only anger. "Or are you just sorry you thought I was too damn dumb to figure out how to protect myself from someone looking for a good time? You had it figured that I wouldn’t know the difference between love and being used. Or that I wasn’t man enough to protect myself. Ya think I wear a gun just for show? That maybe I don’t know how ta use it?"

Vin cocked his head to one side. "So just what are ya really sorry for, Nate? Your apology isn’t worth a damn until you know why you’re sorry."

Nathan stared at him, not sure what to say. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Aw hell. Looks like I messed this up worse than I thought I did. He sighed softly. "I’m sorry for all of it."

"Then it’s about time you proved it."

"Prove it?" Nathan felt both eyebrows rise.

"Yep." Vin nodded firmly once. "So far all you done is said some words. Talk is easy, Nathan. You really mean it, then it’s about damn time you started to act like it."

The healer’s brow furled. "How?"

"Well for starters ya can start by seeing Ezra for who he really is."

Nathan stared at him blankly. Who else would I be…oh. He means what I said in the clinic. Never should have said that. Realize that now. "About what I said in the clinic…well, that was a mistake."

"Yer damn right it was." Vin growled. "And that ain’t the only time ya made it either."

Nathan opened his mouth to protest that he’d only ever seen Ezra as being like his master’s brother that one time, but Vin cut him off. "You haven’t really seen Ezra since the day you met. All you ever saw was some fancy dressed feller from the south that you were sure owned some o’ your kin. Saw someone you were sure wasn’t worthy of being trusted or respected. Ain’t sure you’ve learned to see different either."

Vin’s expression softened slightly, eyes warming as the anger gave way to the tracker’s more typically easygoing nature. "I know it musta been hell the way you grew up. Can’t even begin ta imagine what it was like. An’ it couldn’t have been easy to get free or stay that way. But ya gotta stop lettin’ your past color everything in the here and now. It ain’t right."

Nathan scowled. He was unwilling to admit that his having been a slave had such a wide-reaching affect on his outlook. He didn’t even want to consider the possibility that his old master might still be controlling any aspect of his life, no matter how minor. I am a free man, damn it. My life is my own.

"My past doesn’t color everything." Nathan protested Vin’s assertion.

"Just how you think of Ez, and how ya treat him." The tracker pointed out quietly.

Nathan opened his mouth to deny that charge, but Vin held up a hand stopping his words. He tipped his head toward where Ezra was still talking with Casey. "Ya looked over there just a few minutes ago. Tell me what you were thinkin’."

Nathan shrugged one shoulder. He didn’t see the harm in answering honestly, and his innate forthright nature really wouldn’t let him lie. ’Sides, knowing Vin he already knows anyway. Man is just uncanny about stuff like that. "Was thinking Ezra probably never worked a day in his life."

Vin raised one eyebrow. "And what makes you so sure he hasn’t?"

Nathan rolled his eyes. "For crying out loud…when Maude was here she told us all about him growing up—"

"Yeah, and Maude is such an honest person. Never known that woman to lie." Vin interrupted, his tone dry as dust. "I mean, she only makes her living doing the same stuff you get on Ezra about; lying, cheating and stealing. Ya don’t trust him, but her, well, no problem there at all believing whatever crap she says ta ya."

Nathan felt his face warm. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that the stories the conwoman told about Ezra’s childhood were not the truth. Well, I didn’t think she had a reason to lie about that stuff. Weren’t like there was anything ta be gained by it. Still, he had to concede Vin had a point. Maude was far from trustworthy, and just because he thought there was nothing to be gained by lying didn’t mean she saw it the same way. He should have known better than to give her stories so much credence.

He wasn’t willing to admit he was wrong just yet though. "Even if she lied, the man told us gentlemen don’t do manual labor."

Vin snorted. "He said gentlemen don’t do menial labor. There’s a difference. And he never said he was a gentlemen…not once. He just let ya assume he was."

That made Nathan pause. He could have sworn the gambler had clearly said he was a gentleman. He was sure that the conman had laid claim to being better than the rest of them. For the first time, Nathan considered that he might have been willingly conned into seeing what he expected to see.

"Was an easy mistake ta make. I mean he knows that useless stuff a gentleman is s’posed ta know. Stuff like how ta wield a sword." Vin smirked. "Course so do you, so maybe that little detail ain’t really all that important when it comes ta being a gentlemen."

Vin’s lips relaxed into his usual half-smile. "And he’s always nice ta the ladies, but then so is Buck. Course, Ezra is a bit more genteel about it."

The tracker cocked his to one side, studying Nathan. "Talks better than most. But that don’t really mean anythin’. Josiah can talk pretty to when he puts his mind to it. And Mr. Lovitt, that fat fart banker talks good too, even better than Ez. I ain’t never hear ya think of him as a gentlemen. Least wise that weren’t what ya said when ya heard he’d taken a header inta that mud puddle the other day."

"Only thing he does different is dress better than anyone else in town. Truth is anyone with enough money could dress just as fancy." Vin chuckled. "Doubt anyone else could do it with the same style. If it’s one thing my Ez has, it’s style." There was no mistaking the pride in his voice.

"Appearance may not be everythin’, Nathan," Vin’s expression sobered, blue eyes easily holding Nathan’s darker counterparts, "but sometimes it don’t take all that much ta make a picture of what people expect ta see. ‘Specially if they never think to look any deeper or ask any questions."

The tracker sighed. "All of us are more than what we appear at first glance, Nathan. All I’m sayin’ is that you need to look again. Might find ya see more this time ‘round."

That was evidently all Vin had to say on the subject. He picked up his hammer, and turned to go back to work. Nathan stared at him totally flabbergasted. He’d never heard Vin Tanner say so much at one time. Or be quite so eloquent.

He really couldn’t maintain the façade of righteous indignation, wounded pride, or even honest anger. He wanted to; not willing to admit he’d been mistaken or so easily misled. But Vin’s arguments made it impossible for him to ignore the fact that me may well have been wrong, that he had jumped to conclusions where Ezra was concerned. He tried to wrap his mind around everything Vin had said, reevaluating what he thought he knew of Ezra in light of what Vin had pointed out to him. His turbulent thoughts were interrupted by a soft drawl.

"Gentlemen." Ezra leaned casually against the edge of the roof. "Mrs. Wells requested I ascend the dubious stability of this ladder to determine the reason for the sudden halt in your steady cacophony." He raised an eyebrow, eyes moving from Vin to Nathan, and back again. "Is there a problem?"

"Nah, Ez, no problems."

Sharp green eyes seemed to take in everything with just a glance. Nathan shifted uneasily, wondering if it were possible for the gambler to guess what they’d been discussing. He was suddenly ashamed of himself. All this time Ezra had been aware of what Nathan thought and his moral code, of the healer’s history, of his dreams and aspirations. And he’d only made assumptions about the other man, never once thinking to just ask for information, to look deeper, or even listen to the answers when someone else thought to ask the question.

Ezra shook his head. "Mr. Tanner." There was the slightest reprimand in Ezra’s tone. But Vin didn’t look the least repentant. The tracker’s chin came up, eyes meeting Ezra’s unwaveringly. The healer wasn’t sure what, but something definitely passed between the other two men. Ezra’s lips quirked upward in a small half-smile, and he dipped his head.

Nathan found himself unable to interpret that simple gesture as anything other than acquiescence on the part of the gambler. Although, he really didn’t have a clear idea as to what Ezra had given in to. Downright creepy they way they can talk and not say a word. At least when Chris and Vin do that I feel like I got some idea o’ what they are ‘talking’ about. Course, I only think I know with them. Seems a lot o’ what I thought I knew might just not be so. The healer sighed and found himself wondering if it was too late to go back to bed and start the day over.

"Since you have come to a temporary halt," Ezra waved a hand toward the pile of shingles yet to be placed, "then perhaps it is time to indulge ourselves in the repast Mrs. Welles has taken upon herself to prepare. She indicated that it would be ready presently."

"I could eat." Vin casually hooked the claw of his hammer so the tool would remain in place on the roof where he evidently intended to leave it, and moved toward the ladder.

Nathan slowly followed suit. He expected to have to wait for Ezra to climb down the ladder, and then Vin. He figured the gambler’s shoulder would probably slow him down a bit. But to his amazement the gambler made it back to the ground in record time. Ezra simply positioned his boots so they rested outside the rungs, and using his hands to balance himself, slide swiftly down to come to rest on the ground in an amazingly short time. Vin followed Ezra’s example, grinning as he did it. He reminded Nathan of the children when Ezra showed them a new card trick.

The healer opted to utilize the rungs on the ladder rather than risk simply sliding down as Vin and Ezra had done. He had a feeling it was a lot harder to do than either of them made it look. Two o’ them are part squirrel, I swear.

Ezra shook his head when Vin would have headed straight for the door. Nathan trailed after them when, with one hand on Vin’s arm, Ezra led him to where a bucket of clean water, a bar of soap, and two small towels had been left, obviously placed for their use. He waved a hand, inviting both Vin and Nathan to use what was before them.

"I took the liberty of assuming you would both like to clean up a bit before dining. Mrs. Welles was rather, shall we say," The gambler’s lips quirked upward in an almost secretive smile, "forceful in her diatribe regarding the sort of people she would reserve a place for at her table. I strongly suggest you both make use of the materials provided, lest she ban you from her delectable kitchen."

Vin chuckled, blue eyes twinkling. "Nettie can be right picky ‘bout that sort o’ thing."

Ezra nodded sagely. "So it would seem." He patted Vin on the shoulder, tipping his head to Nathan, before heading toward the door. "I’ll leave you two to finish your ablutions."

Nathan watched Ezra head inside. He blinked in surprise as he noticed for the first time what the gambler was wearing. He’d failed make note of the simple, almost bland attire earlier, in part because the conman wore it with the same natural grace and elegance that he did is more usual colorful, expensive garb.

Hunh. Didn’t think he owned anything plain or…utilitarian. Man always seems ta wear colors brighter than a peacock, and I’d have bet a month’s salary that he wouldn’t have been caught in anything so…so…ordinary. Guess Vin was right about Ezra having style. Don’t know anyone else who could walk around in such a commonplace outfit and make it seem downright regal.

Nathan shook his head realizing Vin was right about something else as well. Had Ezra been wearing his current clothing when they first met in the saloon, he might have formed an entirely different opinion. He bit his lower lip, uncomfortable with what that realization said about him.

Was he really that shallow? Until now, he hadn’t thought so. Was he really so quick to judge a man with no more to go on than his clothing and speech patterns? Did this make him no better than those he believed to be so quick to judge him based solely on the color of his skin? If it were true, Nathan knew it made him a hypocrite. And that label was not one the former slave wanted to have attached to himself. Determined not to be the type of person he found morally offensive, Nathan resolved to do what Vin had suggested…look again, and see more than he had before. He sighed heavily, suspecting that the task he’d just set for himself might be harder than he expected. How do you stop yourself from doing stuff when you don’t even know you’re doing it?

"You okay there Nate?" Vin asked quietly, looking up from where he was drying his hands and face.

"Yeah, Vin. I’m fine." The healer smiled wanly. "Just thinkin’ on what you said."

The tracker nodded, eyes conveying a depth of understanding and sympathy that Nathan hadn’t expected. Vin casually draped the damp towel over the nearby fence rail. "Might help if ya were ta talk to Ez." Vin’s eyes suddenly twinkled with humor. "It’s amazing what ya learn just by askin’ a few questions."

"Yeah, but would he answer ‘em?"

Vin shrugged one shoulder. "Ez always answers when ya ask him something. But—"

"But only the question you ask." Nathan finished for him. He already knew that. The gambler could take a decidedly literal approach to things when it suited him. An’ for a man who seems to talk so much he can say damn little when he feels like it.

Vin slapped him lightly on the back as he headed inside. Nathan shook his head, and bent to wash his face and hands. He really had no idea how to approach Ezra. Somehow he just didn’t think sitting at Nettie’s kitchen table would be a good time to do it.

Nettie tended to defend what she thought was hers. The old woman had placed a claim on Vin early on. Nathan realized that lately she’d seemed to have taken a real shine to Ezra as well. He knew she wouldn’t have asked Ezra to teach Casey if she didn’t think highly of him. And wafting from the window was the smell of Ezra’s favorite pie, something he knew Nettie had to have made especially for the gambler.

Somehow he just couldn’t see starting anything in front of her. Nor did he think Ezra would be inclined to talk in front of the ladies. The conman had a tendency to make sure the conversation focused somewhere other than himself when in a group, especially if ladies were present. S’pose that’s part of being a gentlemen. Saw white folks in the big house do that all the time. Ladies pretty much directed the conversation while they was around. Made sure it was light stuff, nothing ta upset the meal or make people uncomfortable. The men split off ta another room later ta smoke and talk. Course, the only time I’ve ever heard Ezra say much ‘bout himself is when he’s with just us seven. Might be he don’t want other people knowing his business. Can’t say I blame him there.

Nathan chose to overlook the fact there were times when Nettie scared him. He’d already had to deal with an angry and disappointed Vin. He wasn’t sure he could handle Nettie in a similar condition, at least not today. Unlike Vin, the homesteader probably wouldn’t pull her punches. And he doubted he’d get off as easy with her as he had with Vin.

Maybe on the way back to town. He grimaced realizing he wouldn’t be alone with Ezra. Vin would be with them. Funny, that never bothered me before. Course, I never had reason to question my own opinion before either. The healer sighed again as he dried off his face and hands. He was beginning to appreciate why Chris turned to alcohol so frequently. A good stiff drink sure would be nice about now.

+ + + + + + +

Riding back to Four Corners, Vin kept a subtle eye on Nathan. He hadn’t expected to confront the healer on the roof, but he wasn’t sorry he had. It was apparent to him that the man had been doing some serious thinking, even though the topic hadn’t been brought up again. The tracker considered it a measure of success just being able to get the man to question himself and his point of view. Have to wait an’ see if it does any good.

He watched as Nathan took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Definitely getting ready ta do somethin’. Vin had no worries about Ezra. Even though the gambler might not have known exactly what was said on the roof, he knew the score. Vin felt a flush of pride thinking about his lover. Not much gets past Ez. An’ I ain’t really worried about him being able to handle Nate. He’s been doing that for the past year

Nathan cleared his throat. "Ez?"

"Yes, Mr. Jackson?" Ezra cocked his head slightly, indicating Nathan had his attention.

"Who are Hector and Achilles?"

Vin raised both eyebrows, half turning in his saddle to stare at Nathan in surprise. What the hell? Now that was not what I expected him to ask at all.

Ezra chuckled, and gave the healer a sly look. "Listening on Miss Casey’s lesson were you?"

"Well, I really only heard that last bit." Nathan shrugged. He looked apologetic, and shifted restlessly in his saddle. "Heard ya mention somethin’ about a war. Was expectin’ ya to be talking about the war between the states, but nothing I heard really had much to do with that."

"Hector and Achilles were heroes of the Trojan War, an event in human history that happened so long ago it is likely more myth than reality." Ezra waved a hand in a graceful, meaningless gesture. "A blind poet by the name of Homer is credited with ensuring the story was not lost to posterity. The story is known as the Iliad. It is a classic piece of literature that I thought Miss Welles would benefit from being exposed to."

Nathan frowned slightly. "Wouldn’t it have been easier ta just let her read it than ta read it to her?"

"Ideally, yes, that would be true." Ezra shrugged one shoulder. "Unfortunately, the only copy of the Iliad I happen to possess is in the original Greek. A language, I am fairly certain, Miss Welles is not presently equipped to decipher."

Nathan stared at Ezra. If Vin was reading his expression right, the healer was genuinely astounded. It was a feeling he could relate to. Coulda knocked me over with a feather when I found out how many different languages he can speak.

"You speak Greek?" Nathan asked, his skepticism easy to read.

"To a limited degree, yes. I read it far better than I speak it." Ezra casually admitted. His nonchalant demeanor made it obvious he was telling the truth. "So while not as verbally proficient in the language as I would prefer," the gambler waved a hand in a ‘more or less’ motion, "I am still sufficiently knowledgeable to serve in the capacity of translator, thereby allowing Miss Welles the opportunity to enjoy a truly magnificent work of prose."

Nathan blinked, processing what the gambler had just said. "You learn that in some fancy school?"

Ezra sighed softly. "No, Mr. Jackson, I did not learn Greek in an institution of higher learning."

"So where did ya learn it?"

The conman’s gaze shifted to the horizon. He smiled slightly before his expression became as distant as the point his stare was focused on. For a moment, Vin wondered if his lover would refuse to answer. He also wondered if he shouldn’t step in and put a halt Nathan’s questions, not wanting bad memories to be dredged up for Ezra. Before he could act on that thought, Ezra took breath and refocused on the healer.

"My exposure to Greek actually happened in a broken fashion, off and on again over the course of my childhood. My first introduction occurred when I was six years old." Ezra smiled warmly, and his eyes sparkled slightly. It eased Vin’s worry about Nathan’s question resurrecting bad memories. He wouldn’t look like that if it were bad stuff.

"I went to live with a woman I knew only as Aunt Matilda; Mattie to her friends. She believed a classical education was essential for a proper gentleman. Greek and Latin were the principle foundations for said education. So while I was staying with her, Mattie took it upon herself to find instructors for me."

Ezra chuckled and shook his head. "Unfortunately, the individuals whose services she engaged were more apt to slaughter the spoken form of either language than to genuinely teach me the correct usage. Not to mention their penchant for utilizing phrases fit only for use as insults, or propositioning women of the evening."

"You’re kidding?" Vin grinned, trying to picture a pint-sized Ezra getting language lessons that involved learning how to talk to prostitutes. Bet he’d a been a real charmer as a kid. Can just see him flashing those big green eyes and dimples.

"No, I’m not kidding Vin." Ezra grinned back at him, gold pre-molar flashing for a moment in the sun. "Despite their efforts, rather than because of them, I did learn the basics of how read both languages. And eventually learned what Aunt Matilda had intended; albeit, not until I was a bit older and staying elsewhere."

"Did she know what they were teaching you?" Nathan asked, still incredulous.

Ezra’s expression turned wry. "I rather suspect that she was indeed aware that my education was not entirely, shall we say, textbook. But then, as Madame of one of the most profitable houses of pleasure in New Orleans, I seriously doubt there was much that escaped her notice."

Nathan’s mouth dropped open. "Your aunt was a whore?"

Ezra raised one eyebrow, green eyes calmly appraising Nathan for a heartbeat or two. The healer had the good sense to look embarrassed. Vin was fairly certain that Nathan had meant no offense, that he was simply taken by surprise to learn that Ezra’s family tree had included more than he expected. Don’t know if Ezra will think that though. Kinda looking forward to seein’ how he handles this. Vin settled into his saddle, waiting.

Nathan cleared his throat. "I’m sorr—"

The gambler held up a hand halting Nathan’s words. "Specifically, Mattie was not a blood relative. She was more of a family friend than anything else. And she was not a whore, Mr. Jackson. She was a courtesan."

The southerner gave the last word a French accent which added note of regality, subtly emphasizing her station as being better than what Nathan’s question implied. "She was, in nearly every sense of the word, a lady, one with impeccable style. Mattie was fully capable of engaging in intelligent discourse on nearly any subject. She was accomplished at several musical instruments, and could sing like an angel."

Ezra tipped his head slightly, a half-smile blossoming on his face. "Of course, she could also play a mean game of poker." His smile grew, dimples appearing. "I do believe that she was far better at the game than even my own dear mother. And she could pick a man’s pocket without him ever feeling it. But I don’t think any man ever objected to receiving attention from her, no matter how larcenous the intent."

Ezra’s expression became one of fond reminiscence. "It was at her knee that I learned my first card trick. Although, it took me years of diligent practice to even come close to the skill she possessed."

"An’ Maude thought it was okay for you ta stay with this lady even though she was a…courtesan?" Nathan asked. The black man was quick to add, "I don’t mean any offense, Ezra, but don’t seem like an appropriate place for a child."

"In my formative years, Mr. Jackson, I spent very little time in places most would consider appropriate for a child." The gambler’s tone was dry, but not sarcastic. "Mattie’s was one of the better places my mother saw fit to leave me."

Vin was curious about any part of Ezra’s past, particularly any part he remembered positively. But he suspected Nathan’s next question might have something more to do with Maude, a topic the tracker would prefer not to dwell on. Don’t think Ez really wants to either, so it’s probably best to move this on ta other things a bit.

"How long did ya stay with Mattie, Ez?" The tracker asked, hoping to quietly direct the conversation away from Maude.

"Just over a year."

"Where’d ya go from there?"

"Virginia." Ezra made a movement with his fingers that made the ruby ring he wore spin slightly. "I went to live with Uncle Malcolm."

"Was he another friend of the family?" Nathan inquired. He seemed to be honestly interested.

"Malcolm was the brother to one of my mother’s husbands. So, by all rights, he was family, though not a direct blood relative."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "He a gambler too?"

"Oh good heavens, no." Ezra laughed; a sound of open and honest amusement. "Uncle Malcolm couldn’t even shuffle a deck of cards." He chortled, trying to regain control, green eyes alight with amusement. "The man was the most mechanically disinclined individual I have ever had the pleasure to know."

Vin’s brows pulled down slightly in confusion. "This the same Malcolm who showed you how ta use a sling?"

"One in the same." Ezra waved a hand in another meaningless, yet graceful gesture. "He was a brilliant man. Quite possibly the most intelligent man I’ve ever encountered. But he was far more gifted with the theoretical aspects of life than the practical. While he was an outstanding educator, he simply wasn’t adept when it came applying what he knew."

Ezra’s expression turned thoughtful. "That may be one of the reasons he so enjoyed my company. I could apply what he knew, and make it work." The gambler smiled affectionately. "My stays with him were always…enlightening to say the least."

Stays? "How long did ya get to stay with him?" Vin asked softly. He’s mentioned Malcolm a time or two, but he’s never really said just how long he was with him.

"From the time I was eight, until my twelfth birthday, my visits with Uncle Malcolm usually lasted several months." Ezra sighed, and his eyes went distant. "All told, my time actual time with him probably amounted to…two, maybe two and a half years."

Nathan stared at the gambler. "Didn’t you ever just stay in one place?"

"No, Mr. Jackson, I did not." Ezra cocked his head to one side, his focus once more on the healer. "Four Corners is one of only two places I have had the good fortune to reside in for any length of time."

"What was the other one?"

Ezra’s jaw tightened, expression slipping from open to shuttered in less than a heartbeat. Vin knew the other: the Esmerelda. It wasn’t something he felt his lover should have to rehash. Intent on disrupting this line of questioning, Vin dug his left heel into Peso. His mount reacted to that sudden jab just as Vin expected him to. Peso snorted and shied, moving so that he shoved Chaucer hard. Chaucer danced away, tossing his head in annoyance, and kicked out slightly with one rear foot. Ezra’s natural grace and horsemanship made it easy for him to maintain his seat and stay with his mount’s sudden, unexpected movements.

"Really, Vin, you must learn to control that fractious courser." Ezra’s tone wasn’t nearly as sharp as it would have been if he were truly annoyed.

"Sorry, Ez." Vin did his best to actually sound apologetic. He used subtle pressure from his knees to encourage Peso to prance a bit, making him look somewhat rebellious. "He just gets like this some times."

Ezra allowed Chaucer to sidestep, and put some distance between himself and Peso. He tipped his head to regard Peso, giving the black a hard look. "Perhaps he is in need of some firm discipline or retraining."

Man really looks irritated…until ya look at his eyes. Pretty sure ole Peso is gonna get an apple for bein’ ‘fractious’. Vin shook his head. He needed to stay in the game, and keep the conversation focused on something, anything long enough for Nathan to forget his question and the fact that Ezra hadn’t answered it.

"Now Ez – ain’t no cause to be hard on ‘im." Vin offered. ’Specially when it weren’t him, it was me.

Ezra winked slyly at him so that Nathan couldn’t see, giving the tracker a clear signal he understood. The gambler then heaved an exaggerated sigh, and rolled his eyes. "It is exactly that sort of permissive attitude that allows him to persist in this sort of malcontent behavior. I’m certain that Yosemite could recommend a competent trainer to work with Peso and correct his abysmal behavior."

Vin snorted. "Only competent trainer he knows is you."

"You train horses? Since when?" Nathan pulled his mount to a halt, forcing Vin and Ezra to stop as well.

Ezra blinked, clearly taken aback by Nathan’s tone. "Since I agreed to Judge Travis’ terms of service, and began working in Four Corners as an officer of the law."

"What?" Nathan stared at him, eyes narrowed. "Ya can’t con me, Ezra. I work above that livery. No way you been training horses." The healer declared firmly.

"You doubt my word?" Ezra raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing. "You think I am incapable of undertaking such a task? That I lack the necessary skill and ability? Or perhaps it is my work ethic you find lacking?"

The healer hesitated for a second. Vin could tell the man wanted to say yes, but he was thinking it over. Unfortunately, he thought a bit too long. Ezra’s lips thinned, green eyes turning cold as ice.

"Between your duties as a peacekeeper and healer, I realize you are often very busy and frequently out of town attending to the needs of others. Perhaps too busy, or gone too often to even notice what goes on under your very nose." The gambler smirked, lips twisting in a parody of a smile.

"In the future you may want to broaden your focus and pay attention to more than just your own concerns. You will most definitely want to pick your replacement mounts with more care, Mr. Jackson." Ezra’s normally soft drawl had taken on a harsh undertone. "The horse you are currently astride is one I trained."

Nathan’s own horse, Abe, had suffered a stone bruise a few days ago. Not wanting to risk doing permanent damage to him, Nathan had been riding rental mounts. Today the healer had chosen to ride a five year old dun gelding Yosemite had named Buster. Vin had overheard Nathan ask specifically for Buster, stating that the gelding had a smooth gait, a nice disposition and was very well behaved.

"If you doubt my word regarding Buster, then feel free to question Yosemite. I’m sure you will have no reason to doubt his veracity." Ezra tipped his head to Nathan, and then gently nudged Chaucer with his heels, setting the gelding in motion, effectively ending the conversation.

Vin shook his head at Nathan, and the healer had the good grace to look chastised. "I’ve seen him at the livery, Vin. All the time. Just thought he was there ta spoil that horse o’ his. Saw him ride other horses on patrol, but I thought he was just taking it easy on Chaucer. Never thought some fancy dressed gambler would be taking the time to—"

Vin shook his head and held up a hand, not wanting to hear any more that the man had to say. He wasn’t angry with Nathan, not really. He was just disappointed that the man could so easily slip back into his old habit of constantly doubting the gambler. Thought we were getting somewhere here. Always seems ta be one step forward, two steps back. He urged Peso to move forward, keeping pace with Ezra.

Vin and Ezra rode slightly ahead of Nathan. Vin looked over at Ezra. Best say something here or Ez might just stay quiet the whole way back. Know the others might not believe it, but Ez can be quiet when he wants ta be. Don’t want him brooding on what Nate said…or didn’t say.

"I’m sorry." Vin offered softly, not wanting his voice to carry.

"For what?" Ezra responded, his expression quizzical. The gambler kept his volume equally low, pitched to reach only to Vin. "You did nothing wrong, Cheri."

"Still sorry." Vin shrugged, not entirely certain he agreed with his lover’s assessment of his being innocent. Was me that got the whole thing rolling by opening my mouth on the roof. Was me that told him ta talk to Ez.

Vin sighed silently. "Thought maybe he was coming around."

Ezra flashed a quick grin at Vin. "He is."

The tracker frowned. "Not sure I see it that way, Ez."

"There was a time when he wouldn’t have even asked a question, much less listened to the answers. This is progress, Vin." The gambler shrugged. "It was far too optimistic to believe he would change the habit of a lifetime in only one day."

Ezra sighed, his eyes giving away the measure of disappointment he was feeling. "It is disheartening, to be sure, that he would be so quick to find me wanting, but it was not entirely unexpected."

Yeah, and that’s the part that pisses me off. That ya expected it. Vin nudged Peso closer to Chaucer, putting him within arm’s length so he could reach out and wrap a hand around Ezra’s wrist. "Was proud o’ you. Told him more than I thought ya would." While he never doubted his lover would answer direct questions, he hadn’t expected him to be quite so forthcoming.

Ezra smiled, the elegant fingers of his other hand moving to cover Vin’s. "You accused Nathan of not seeing me. I can hardly fault the man for his failure if I never really showed him who I was." He squeezed Vin’s hand once before letting go. Vin nodded in understanding as he also let go of Ezra.

"And it was no hardship to talk of Mattie and Malcolm." The gambler’s smile was still easy and open. "I enjoyed my time with both of them. It is always nice to have cause to remember them."

"You ever see either of them again?" Vin asked after a moment, not sure if he should ask, but curious just the same. "I mean after," he swallowed hard, hesitating again. He wasn’t sure if he should make reference to the Esmerelda again, so he opted for what might be a safer topic. "After the war."

Ezra bit his lip, eyes darkening slightly. "I stopped to see Malcolm…after receiving my parole. Neither of us were in the best of condition. He was dying, and I was…" Ezra’s expression turned contrite, "Well, I’m sure you are familiar with how most of us looked at that point."

Vin nodded. He remembered all to well how rough the troops looked after the war. Most were little better than walking skeletons. It was a wonder any of them survived. It had taken him almost a year to recover the weight and health he’d lost. Probably took Ez just as long, if not longer. He was in ‘fore I was, and pretty sure he saw a lot more action than I did.

Ezra cleared his throat as his fingers moved to spin his ring again. "He gave me the ring before he passed. He told me that he wanted the only relative he ever liked to have the only thing he owned that had any value." The gambler chuckled dryly. "Well, other than his library, but he’d already donated that to West Point. Minus one beloved volume."

"The Iliad." Vin stated unerringly, certain that book was one his lover had gotten from his uncle.

Ezra tipped his head in acknowledgement. "Yes." He smiled slightly. "It was Malcolm’s favorite story."

"And yours."

"And mine." Ezra agreed softly. "I have read it countless times, and never grown tired of it."

"Maybe you could read it to me sometime?" Vin would like the opportunity to experience whatever it was his lover found so fascinating, so worthy of numerous re-readings. An’ I love having him read to me. When he was teaching Vin to read, Ezra had often read out loud to him, something the tracker never got tired of experiencing.

"Certainly." Ezra’s eyes sparkled with surprised pleasure. "I would be delighted to introduce to it, Mr. Tanner."

"Good." Vin grinned at him. He cocked his head to one side realizing nothing had been said yet about Mattie. Still wanna know about her. Was a good part of his past. "So…what about Mattie? You see her again?"

Ezra nodded. "Mattie and I corresponded regularly throughout my childhood. Well, whenever we were able that is. As you can well imagine, given the gypsy-like nature of my upbringing, there were several lengthy gaps in our communication." The gambler shrugged, nonchalantly. "Like many others, I made my way West after the war. I spent several months with her in New Orleans before continuing westward."

"She was doing okay then?" Would be nice if one member o’ his family, somebody he cared about was still all right.

"As of her last letter," Ezra smiled widely, gold premolar glinting in the sun, "which I received only two weeks ago, she is in good health, and still operating the Gilded Lily at a considerable profit."

Vin grinned back. He knew his lover regularly received mail, more than anyone else in town, but he’d never given much thought before to who wrote him. "She write to you often?"

"I receive a letter every few months."

Vin’s brows pulled together. "Who do all the other letters ya get come from?"

"Most are not letters, Vin." Ezra shook his head. "I subscribe to a number of newspapers."

"Why?"

"Although they are expensive and often months out of date by the time they reach our dusty backwater burg, I believe it important to stay abreast of what happens elsewhere in the country. So many of those events, despite the distance, have an impact on what happens here."

Vin nodded. "Like that statehood stuff that almost got ya killed savin’ Mary?"

"Quite." He gave Vin a searching look. "And I was not nearly killed, Cheri. It was a flesh wound."

"Ya got hurt." Vin’s jaw tightened. That fact was all that mattered to him. It could have been a lot worse. Coulda lost him ‘fore I even got to know him. Christ…seeing him just put himself in the line o’ fire like that. Vin shuddered, still distressed by the events of that day.

He was pulled out his thoughts by a hand caressing his cheek. "Focus on what did happen, mon couer. Not on what might have happened." Ezra’s soft drawl admonished him. "Remember?"

"Right." He took a deep breath before turning his head to place a kiss in Ezra’s palm. "I remember."

Ezra nodded once, pulling his hand back. Vin almost wished he would have left it where it was. He suspected the gambler might well have done just that, and more, had Nathan not been only a horse length or two behind them.

Vin sighed and glanced over his shoulder. He hadn’t forgotten the healer. We rode out together. No reason for not to ride in the same way. Think Ez just needed a minute to think, and can’t say it hurt Nate ta take a minute ta do the same. But I’m not gonna let Nate nurse wounded pride, or sulk the whole way home. Which is ‘xactly what would happen if we stayed ahead o’ him. Would just be another step backward. Already took enough o’ those today.

"Ya plannin’ on riding back there all day, Nate?" He called out, halting Peso as he did. Ezra and Chaucer stopped as well. "Or you gonna come join us?" His tone made it clear that Nathan was welcome.

The healer gave him a startled look, and then glanced warily at Ezra. The gambler simply raised an eyebrow, and made a small motion with his hand indicating Nathan should continue to close the distance between them. "We have weathered other misunderstandings, Mr. Jackson. Far greater than this one I might add."

Nathan smiled hesitantly, brown eyes reflecting an apology. "That we have."

"We will likely weather a few more." Ezra smiled. There was no hostility in his voice or expression. His statement was a simple acknowledgement that he and Nathan would likely always have differing opinions. Those differences did not preclude them from being friends.

"Probably." Nathan agreed, also with a smile, looking relieved.

And he should. Not every man would give him as many chances as Ezra has. Vin’s narrowed-eye look was enough to let Nathan know he would still be watching. Ez might not be one ta hold a grudge but that don’t mean I won’t be looking out for him. Stand up for him against friend and foe alike.

Ezra tipped his head and set Chaucer in motion again. Vin kneed Peso, falling in beside his lover. Nathan joined them, the three riding abreast all the way back to town.

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