Fourth story in the Second Chances series.
Follows Heat Lightning
Spoilers: References to the Love and Honor episode, and liberties have been taken to give more background for Inez. Also, brief references to the Obsession and Chinatown episodes.
Ezra sagged in the saddle and wished fervently that he had decided to stay in Eagle Bend when he realized he was falling ill. His stomach cramped and he fought off a wave of dizziness that threatened to send him plummeting to the ground. It was still several more hours before he would reach Four Corners, and he realized that there was no way he would make it that far. Every step Chaucer took caused his insides to churn. If he could just hang on a little longer, he could stop.Another mile or so up the road there was a cutoff that lead to a small wooded area, which was an ideal stopping place. It offered protection from the blazing heat of the sun, and it had a natural spring, so there was water even in the driest times. Fortunately, the drought had finally broken a couple weeks after that narrow escape from the wildfire, when rain rolled in and lasted for two days with little letup. At least this time he wouldn't have to avoid a campfire.
The gambler wrapped an arm across his stomach and grimaced as another cramp seized him. He honestly didn't think it could feel much worse if someone were trying to pull his entrails out of his body through his belly button. A groan escaped his lips and he fidgeted in the saddle.
"Of course, I would have to be alone. Ohhhh…damn…Ezra you are a complete idiot," he mumbled, trying to distract himself. "Had to happen out here in the middle of nowhere." He patted the broad neck in front of him. "No offence, my friend. I am aware that I have you here with me, but I doubt that you can assist me with what I fear is going to befall me this time."
They reached the cutoff and Ezra sighed in relief. The stand of trees was roughly two hundred yards ahead. A couple minutes later they ducked into the welcoming shade and headed toward the spring. It took him only moments to slip from the saddle and loop the reins over a nearby branch, before he scrambled a short distance from where he would camp, dropped his pants, and let nature take its course.
After the initial urgency was relieved, he forced himself to keep moving long enough to remove Chaucer's saddle and settle him where he could reach both the small pool where the spring water collected and some of the new grass that had sprung up since the rain. He had barely finished when he found himself scrambling again to relieve the pressure in his bowels.
+ + + + + + +
Ezra groaned as he struggled up from sleep. It was starting to get dark and he needed to get a fire started, but he just didn't want to move, he ached so much. The all too familiar pain in his abdomen forced him into motion. He struggled to his knees and staggered as far as he could until he could go no farther. He had taken to leaving the fastenings on his pants open to save time and made quick work of dropping them yet again. It was all he could do to keep from toppling over as dizziness and weakness washed over him.
There had to be some way he could manage that without squatting. He was shaking hard from the effort of staying upright and he was losing strength at an alarming rate. Daylight was fading fast, so he didn't have much time to come up with a plan. He looked around and finally saw something that might help. After grabbing his bedroll, he moved a little deeper into the small woods to a fallen tree. There was one limb that was not quite perpendicular to the trunk of the tree that might be just about right for him to lean against if he was seated on the trunk. There was no doubt in his mind that at this rate he would be getting too weak to do much for himself before much longer.
Water was one thing he had to have. Nathan was always forcing water on anyone sick with the flux or vomiting. He clearly remembered him saying that a person could die if their body lost too much water. After laying the blankets on the log, he managed to make it back to get his canteen and the saddlebags. The canteen was nearly empty. Strange, he didn't remember drinking that much, but he must have since he had filled it from the spring soon after stopping there. Well, Nathan would be pleased with him for that, at least. He refilled the canteen and started back to his fallen log. A wave of light-headedness nearly caused his knees to buckle, but he leaned heavily against a tree for support until it passed.
When he did make it back to where he had left the blankets, he laid the saddlebags next to where he planned to situate himself and hooked the canteen over a branch within easy reach. One of the blankets ended up wrapped around him like a shawl, and the other one would cover his legs if he needed it. There was nothing more that he could do. A fire was out of the question at the moment. It was too dark to see to gather the wood, and he knew he wouldn't be able to keep it going all night. He swayed on his feet and nearly bent double when his stomach clenched again. With a groan he dropped his pants just enough to be clear of his backside, but still far enough up that they would protect the back of his legs from the rough bark. He sat with his posterior extended past the curve of the tree trunk and straddled the branch so he could lean forward against it for support. Situated as he was, he felt like he could even sleep without falling over, and he wouldn't have to try to drag himself up off the ground when he had to answer an urgent call of nature; he could just stay where he was. As humiliating as it would be to be found like that, it would be worse to soil his clothes and then have to lie there in them because he was too weak to get up.
~M7M~
Mary went straight to the saloon after she woke up. She didn't know whether to be concerned or angry that Ezra had stood her up last night; at least she thought he had. He had sent a wire before leaving Eagle Bend telling her that he had found what she had asked him to look for, and that he would give it to her when he got into town, hopefully before suppertime. Since she hadn't asked him to look for anything, she had assumed he was trying to tell her, without fueling more gossip in town, that he wanted to have supper with her. Mealtime had come and gone with no sign of the gambler, and a quick check at the livery when she headed home from the hotel restaurant told her he hadn't made it back to town yet.
She entered the dimly lit barroom and looked around for any of the peacekeepers. The room was empty except for Inez. "Good morning."
Inez looked up at the sound of the greeting and smiled. "Buenos días. Can I get you something?"
"No, thank you. I was just wondering if you have seen Ezra." Mary tried to sound indifferent, but she had a good idea that the pretty Mexican woman knew a lot more about everything that had happened during the past few weeks than she let on. She would undoubtedly realize that it was more than just a casual question.
"No, Señora. I don't believe he has returned yet." At Mary's puzzled expression she continued. "Is something wrong?"
"He should have been back yesterday evening," the blonde answered.
"Well, perhaps he was delayed and had to stay longer," Inez offered.
"No, he sent a wire just before he left yesterday morning. He should have been here before dark." She didn't know what to think, other than that something was wrong. She had gotten to know him well enough in the last few months to know that he wouldn't deliberately leave her wondering like that. If he had had a change in plans and stayed in Eagle Bend, he would have sent another wire, she was sure of that.
Inez shook her head and frowned. "I don't know what has delayed him, but if he comes in, I'll make sure he knows you are looking for him."
"Thank you, I would really appreciate that," Mary said, smiling at the raven-haired woman.
She went back out into the street and looked around, hoping to see one of the men. None of them were around, so she made a quick check at the livery to be sure if Ezra's horse was there or not. The last thing she wanted to do was raise any kind of an alarm if he had gotten in late last night without being seen and was now sleeping up in his room. Not only was Chaucer's stall still empty, but now several of the other horses were gone as well. Mary rushed from the stable, fighting back the fear that was taking hold of her. She was sure now that something was wrong, and she hoped that the others had gone to help Ezra.
Chris looked up from the pile of new Wanted posters he was studying when he heard the door open. Mary Travis stopped abruptly upon seeing him there. She started to turn and leave, but she paused at the sound of his voice.
"Mary, wait!" Larabee rose from behind the desk and took a few steps toward her. "What's wrong?"
He was the last person she wanted to talk to, but right now he was the only one she could find. "I'm looking for Vin or Josiah," she said flatly.
"They aren't here. Josiah and Nathan rode out early for the Seminole village. Vin and JD went out to do some work for Miss Nettie. They'll all be back sometime tonight."
"What about Buck?" she asked hopefully.
"On patrol. Mary, I'm the only one here. If there is something wrong, let me help you." Chris caught and held her gaze.
Her posture slumped slightly as she resigned herself to having to deal with Chris. "Have you heard from Ezra?" she asked stiffly.
Larabee shook his head and looked at her with a frown. "No. Why, should I have?"
"He was supposed to be back last night." Mary glared at the man in black, upset that he seemed unconcerned about the fact that one of his men was missing.
"He probably just decided to stay an extra night. Most likely saw a good prospect for a poker game." Chris leaned back against the corner of the desk and watched her.
She thrust a hand into her pocket and held out the telegraph message to him. "He sent this yesterday morning right before he was supposed to be leaving town."
He read the message and thought about it for a moment. "You sure he was planning to leave right then? It doesn't say so here."
"It says he thought he would be here before supper. You should know that to get here by that time he would have to be starting out early," she said in total exasperation. "Something is wrong," she insisted.
"Mary, I wouldn't worry. I am sure something came up that kept him from getting away when he thought he would. You know, if he had the choice, he would rather stay there in a soft bed than to have to sleep out in the rough," Chris tried to reason with her.
"He would have let me know. I know you probably don't believe that, but I know it," she said adamantly. "I don't care what you do, but I'm going to go look for him."
Chris stared open-mouthed at the door as it slammed shut behind her. In just a few strides he was out the door to try and catch her, but she was already halfway across the street, headed toward her home.
+ + + + + + +
Mary heaved the heavy saddle onto Rosie's back and secured the cinch. She attached the fully stocked saddlebags, making sure to pad the recently healed burn on the mare's haunch so the leather wouldn't rub it. A sound outside the stall caught her attention and she looked to see Chris standing there with Pony. The gelding was saddled and ready to go. "Where do you think you're going?" she snapped.
"I am going with you," he responded firmly.
She whirled around to face him, her blue eyes turning to ice as glared at him. "No, you are not!"
"Yes, I am!" he bellowed back at her, and reached out to take hold of her arm when she started to turn away from him. She yanked her arm loose and hugged her arms across her middle as she shrank away from him. Chris jerked back from her as if he had been slapped. The fear and pain that still haunted Mary's eyes when she looked at him was more devastating than any physical blow he had ever experienced.
She looked away from him and swallowed hard before responding in a strained voice. "I don't want you there. I don't want you near me."
"I know you don't," he said softly, not wanting to upset her any further. "But, I can't let you go alone. There is no way of knowing what you could run into." He sighed and looked at her sadly. "Right now, I'm the only one here to go with you. Do you think Ezra would want you out there alone?"
Mary knew he was right. Ezra would not want her risking herself in any way for him. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew it really wasn't safe for a woman alone out there. Not only that, but she might run into something she couldn't handle on her own. Reluctantly, she looked at the brooding blonde and nodded. She really didn't want to talk to him unless there was no other choice.
They led the horses outside before climbing into the saddles and starting out toward Eagle Bend. Mary rode slightly ahead of Chris. He might have to be there, but that didn't mean she had to look at him as she rode.
Usually Larabee was totally content with silence, but that was when it was of his own choosing. It was wearing thin very quickly, and after a couple hours of getting the silent treatment, and eating dust, he rode up beside his traveling companion. She visibly tensed when she caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye.
"Mary, you can avoid talking to me if you want, but this is one time it will be hard for you to avoid listening to me. Please, hear me out." He waited until he saw a slight nod before he continued. "You can hate me if that's what you want. I know I deserve it, but don't be afraid of me. I would never deliberately hurt you." When she looked at him accusingly, he rushed on. "I know I did hurt you, but it wasn't intended for you. I didn't even know you had stepped between us until I saw you just as you fell. I am sorry! But, there isn't enough sorry in the world to make up for the loss you've suffered at my hands. I know how you feel, whether you believe that or not." He swallowed hard, and tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, but one escaped to run down his cheek. "I feel that same hatred for Ella Gaines. She took my wife and son from me, and I can never forgive her for that. . .but there is one difference. What she did was cold-blooded and deliberate, what happened here was an accident."
"You killed my baby," she said, barely louder than a whisper, as she let the tears flow freely and made no effort to hide them. "It doesn't matter that you hadn't planned to hit me. You intended to kill that day; I could see it in your eyes."
"I thought he had taken advantage of you," he offered in way of explanation.
"So, what if he had? You think that would have justified killing him?" she raged. "Do you really think that I would have had anything to do with him at all when we got back to town if he had forced himself on me?" She just couldn't believe that he hadn't even considered that possibility.
"I wasn't thinking; I was just reacting. The thought of him doing that to you, after I had trusted him to keep you safe…"
Mary huffed in indignation. "It wasn't even really about my soiled virtue," she said sharply. "It was about him breaking your trust! You trusted him, and you thought he had made a fool of you."
Chris hung his head in shame. "I didn't think so at the time. I really thought I was defending your honor. It took a lot of talkin' from Josiah before I realized that part of it was that whole broken trust thing." He looked up at her, took a deep breath, and continued. "There was some of both, defending you and getting even with him." He let her think on that for a while before adding, "I guess another part of it was that I just couldn't believe you would choose him over me, so in my mind he had to have forced you."
She sighed deeply and considered his words. "For Billy's sake, I'll accept your apology. Despite how I feel about you right now, I do know you would not hurt him, and he still looks up to you. I don't intend for him to ever find out exactly what took place, but after what has happened, I'll never be able to feel the same way I used to about you."
~M7M~
Ezra had spent a fitful night, dozing between bouts of stomach cramps and chills. He forced himself to drink some water each time he woke, but he had little energy for anything else. When at last it began to get light out, he didn't know whether to be relieved or more worried. His head felt like a giant hand was trying to crush his skull, and the heat of the day would undoubtedly be hard on him.
The canteen was empty again and crossing those hundred feet or so between his tree and the spring seemed impossible, but he had to try. He rummaged weakly through his saddlebag and pulled out his spare shirt, thankful that it was one of his older ones. After fumbling with his pocketknife he finally managed to cut some pieces out of the cloth. He hissed in pain when he touched tender skin when he tried to clean himself off.
It was a struggle to manage to get both legs back on one side of that limb, but on the third try he finally managed. He grabbed the branch and used it to help pull himself to his feet. His legs shook violently from the sudden weight on them, and he felt sure that they were not going to hold him up. With one hand braced to support him, he pulled his pants up and fastened one button to keep them from falling down. Finally, the shaking eased enough that he took a couple tentative steps toward the spring. He reached it by making his way from one tree to another, pausing to cling to each rough trunk for support for a few moments before pushing on to the next one.
Ezra landed hard on his knees next to the small pool and gasped for breath, exhausted from the effort of walking that short distance. He filled the canteen partially, and then tipped it up to drink. He forced himself to drink as much as he could hold, then filled it completely. Before making the trip back to his tree, he felt around in his jacket pocket for a piece of the shirt he had just destroyed and soaked it in the cool spring water.
It was a short crawl to the closest tree, which he used as leverage to get back to his feet. He staggered back to his perch. Getting resituated astride the limb wasn't easy, but he managed to get arranged as he had been earlier, minus the blankets since it was getting quite warm already and the sun hadn't been up for long.
He used the wet cloth to wipe his face and hands before he decided that he had to eat something even if it didn't seem to even pause at his stomach on its way through his body. He hadn't brought much with him, since it was only a day's ride between the two towns. A local woman sold baked goods, and he had bought a couple small round loaves of fresh bread. There were also some jerky strips and the ever-present tin of beans. The gambler eyed the tin suspiciously and decided against it, well aware of the effect beans had on him. He shuddered to think of adding that to his current problems. Finally, he decided on breaking one of the small loaves in half and trying to force that down. He could chew on a strip or two of the jerky later, if the bread stayed down.
It stayed down for him, but it seemed that it hadn’t much more than filled his stomach when he doubled over in pain. He groaned and leaned forward against his limb as he resigned himself to a continuation of the flux he had been enduring for nearly a full day.
~M7M~
Mary's heart sank when she heard Chris tell her that Ezra hadn't been seen in the saloon since he left it two nights before. They hadn't seen any sign of him between the two towns. "Someone must have seen him since then," she insisted.
"Let's check the livery. Maybe someone saw him leave." Now he was starting to worry. He had been sure they would either find him still in town, or discover that he had left that morning, and somehow they had managed to miss him along the way.
They quickly made the rounds of all the places where they thought someone might have seen the gambler. The man at the stable hadn't seen him leave. He said Ezra had paid his bill the night before he planned to leave because he wanted to get an early start the next morning. The man at the telegraph office remembered sending the wire and said that the man who sent it seemed anxious to leave. When they left that office, Mary pointed toward the hotel and they headed there next.
Chris nodded to the aging woman behind the counter. "Ma'am," he said in greeting. "We are looking for a friend of ours. His name is Ezra Standish. Did he stay here earlier this week?"
"He sure did. I couldn't ferget that young man…such a gentleman." She smiled back at the handsome blonde.
"Could I possibly get you to check your book and see when he left?" He returned the smile and gave her a small wink, causing her to blush.
She flipped back a couple pages and pointed to his name. "Six yesterday morning."
"You're sure of the time?" the gunman asked. It was very out of character for the gambler to get out of bed before mid-morning unless he was forced to, and Chris found it hard to believe that he voluntarily woke up that early.
"Yes, Will and me always write down the time, so we know when the room is empty fer the next one who needs it."
"Thank you, Ma'am." Chris started to lead Mary away from the counter so they could talk more privately.
"I told him he oughtn't to go," the woman continued.
Larabee pulled up short and turned back to face her. "Why?"
"Looked like he was feelin' kinda peaked, all pale and hollow-eyed," she said, concern evident in her voice.
"Chris, we have to go back. He's out there sick and we have to find him." Her eyes pleaded with the peacekeeper to agree.
"We can't. Look out there." He pointed out the small window a few feet away. "We can't find him in the dark."
"No, I can't just leave him out there. He could be dying for all we know." She tried to push past him, but he blocked her way to the door.
"Listen to me!" he said sternly. When she looked up to meet his eyes he continued. "We can't go chasing around out there in the dark. We could pass within a few yards of him and probably never see him. We have to wait until we have light!"
Mary pressed a shaky hand to her mouth and choked back a sob. Chris started to wrap his arms around her to comfort her, but she jerked away from his touch. "Don't!" she snapped. Unwillingly, she turned back to the old woman. "Do you have any rooms for the night?"
~M7M~
Ezra forced gritty eyes open and blinked at the brightness of the sunlight. He raised his head enough to look around, but his strength deserted him, and he laid his cheek back against the rough limb. It was an effort to keep his eyes open. Even breathing seemed to take more energy than he had. He rolled his eyes to look at the canteen that hung on the branch just a few inches away and licked dry, cracked lips. If he could have raised his hand to grasp the tantalizing object, it would have done no good. The last of the water had been consumed around dawn, and there was no possibility of him making it to the spring again. Because he had wanted to avoid soiling his clothes, he was facing the very real possibility that he could very well die there like that.
Ezra chuckled weakly at the thought. Not that he wanted to die. But, how ironic for someone so fastidious in nature to be found perched on a fallen tree with his bare ass hanging out for all to see, having passed from the world because he shit himself to death.
~M7M~
Chris had both horses saddled and ready to go as the first hint of dawn showed in the east. He had done some investigating around the town after he had coaxed Mary into having something to eat. What he found out left him more than a little uneasy for a couple of reasons. The local doctor was tending to several people, most of them travelers, who were desperately ill, all with a sudden onset of the flux. He was baffled as to what caused it, but he suspected it was caused by something they had eaten, since they had all dined at the hotel restaurant the evening before it hit them.
He had seen a couple of those who were afflicted, and the sight haunted him as he thought that maybe Ezra was that sick too. Added to that, he also had to worry about whether Mary or he would be facing the same fate, since they had eaten supper at the same restaurant. The doctor had given him some advice on things that might help if they did find him and he was sick too; Chris had picked up some supplies so they would be prepared, just in case.
The gunslinger glanced at the woman riding beside him and wondered if he should tell her any of that. She was already worried enough and it could just make her even more frantic. So, he decided not to tell her until he found out if there was actually a reason for her to have to know. The doctor had told him that the first ones had come to him around mid-morning, so he felt sure if Ezra had left the road it would be before the halfway point. Now that he knew that, he had an idea where Standish might be.
This was one time that he wished he was as good as Vin at reading signs. He had reached the cutoff he had been thinking of and sat studying the bare trail ahead of him. It looked like someone had traveled that path recently, but he wasn't certain. The hard-packed earth wasn't holding much of an imprint, but he could see what looked like partial horseshoe prints.
He urged Pony on up the path toward the copse that sat back from the road a couple hundred yards. Silently, he hoped that he found the gambler there. At least there was a good water source, and the doctor had stressed that he had to make sure he drank plenty of water.
"Chris? Why are we going this way?" Mary was obviously concerned about leaving the main road.
"There is a spring in those trees back there. We all know about it, so if he was feeling sick, he might have gone in there."
Rosie tossed her head and flicked her ears and her rider had to physically hold back on the reins to keep her from racing toward the small woods. Then Mary heard it too, a horse's neigh. She slacked off on the reins and let Rosie choose her own speed.
Chris kicked Pony into a faster pace to catch up to the other horse and rider, but they slowed as they reached the first of the trees. He caught a glimpse of motion and heard a very agitated whinny. When he moved on ahead he saw a distinctive patch of red. "Wait here," he told Mary, as he slid down to the ground and heard her do the same.
"I'm going too," she insisted.
"Partway, and then you wait until I check things out." He held firm on that and received a reluctant agreement. After looping the gelding's reins over a branch, he headed straight for where he had seen the red spot. He couldn't see anything from that angle.
When he cleared a clump of brush, he froze. Barely ten yards ahead of him, Ezra's limp form lay against a branch on the fallen tree he sat on. There was no sign of life, no movement in response to the sound of Chris's approach, nothing to give the gunslinger any hope that they had found him in time.
Larabee rushed to the gambler's side and felt for a heartbeat against the side of his throat. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, when he felt a weak beat. There was no doubt that Ezra had fallen victim to the same ailment as those people back in town. A quick check of the canteen found it empty, and from the look of things it had been empty for a while. Chris dashed to the spring with the empty container and partially filled it; he could finish filling it later.
Shaking the younger man did nothing to rouse him, so Larabee resorted to using pain as a means of reaching into that darkness the gambler now hovered in, waiting to see if he would live or die. He had been there himself on more than one occasion, and he knew how hard it was to drag yourself back to the hell that could be waiting on the living side. The gunman was vaguely aware of noise behind him as he roughly pinched Ezra and was rewarded with a faint groan.
A loud gasp from behind him jerked Chris's attention away from the gambler, and he whipped around to see Mary standing where she had just come around the thicket. He moved quickly to her and placed himself in her line of sight, blocking her view. "Please, go back and wait," he urged.
"Is he…?" She couldn't bring herself to finish the question.
"He's alive, but he wouldn't want you to see him like this."
"See him like what?" She tried to get around him, but he stopped her. "Let go of me!"
"No! Mary he's very sick, and he is in a rather… indelicate situation." He could tell when she realized what he was trying to say; he could see it in her eyes.
"You forget… there isn't an inch of him that I haven't seen or touched." She shoved her way past him and rushed to Ezra's side. The scene in front of her had her rattled, but she forced herself to stay calm. He needed her.
"Ezra… open your eyes…look at me." There was no response and she closed her eyes as she gathered her thoughts.
"Pain, Mary. Sometimes pain is all that gets through." He reached around and forcefully pinched the gambler again, and this time was rewarded with a groan and a slight shake of his head. "Talk to him, give him something to draw him back." He pinched him again, harder that time.
She took his face in her hands and begged him to wake up. "Please… you have to try…Open your eyes!" she shouted at him when he roused slightly after another hard pinch. "Ezra, I need you… please open your eyes."
A pair of green eyes fluttered open, and Mary gently tipped his head so he could see her. He blinked several times and tried unsuccessfully to speak. She took the canteen and held it to his parched lips. The first touch of the water to his lips left him momentarily confused, and then his mind kicked in. He opened his mouth seeking more and was rewarded with a mouthful of the cool spring water.
"Slowly, drink it slowly." Mary desperately wanted to allow him to have all that he wanted, but she knew she didn't dare. He had to let his stomach accept the first offering, before she could let him have more. She waited a couple long agonizing minutes before giving him another mouthful. After repeating that a few times, she started allowing him to have a little more with each swallow.
Ezra tried to reach out to her, but he didn't have the strength. He managed to lift his hand a few inches, only to have to give up and drop it back to his lap. Gently, she lifted his hand to her face and leaned her cheek into his palm, helping him to cradle her face as he had done in the past.
"Mary." His voice rasped in his throat.
"Shhhh…Don't try to talk. I'm here," she said softly.
He nodded slightly and sighed deeply as Mary leaned closer and kissed him lightly. His breathing evened out as he drifted off to sleep.
Chris motioned to Mary to move away where they could talk without Ezra hearing them if he wasn't fully asleep. "We need Nathan. I want you to head out for town now and you can get there before dark. You'll have to wait for daylight to bring a wagon."
"I'm not leaving." Her tone was eerily controlled.
"You have to. He needs Nathan."
"Then you go. I am not leaving."
"You can't handle him by yourself, and I can't leave you here. Besides, the doctor in Eagle Bend told me some things to do for him." Larabee hoped that would persuade her to go.
"You knew what was wrong, and you didn't tell me?" she fumed.
"I knew it was a possibility. Several other people were sick like this, but there was no way to know if Ezra was too until we found him." He saw her grit her teeth and close her eyes tightly as she struggled to keep from screaming at him.
"You should have told me," she hissed through clenched teeth. She locked eyes with him and demanded, "What's wrong with him?"
"Doc thinks it was from something they ate."
"All of them? How could they all eat the same thing?"
"At the hotel restaurant. They all ate there the night before they got sick." He waited to see if she would realize what his other concern was.
Mary's eyes grew wide as the implication struck home. "We ate there." She glanced back over at Ezra and turned pale.
He nodded. "That is another reason I didn't tell you. I thought you had enough to worry about right then."
"There is no way either of us dares to leave here until we know we aren't going to get sick too. How long did it take for it to hit the others?" She said a silent prayer that neither of them succumbed to the sickness. Without their help, Ezra would surely die.
"He said he started treating people a little before lunchtime, and most of them were there before midnight. A couple made it in a little later, but they had tried to take care of it on their own, and went to him only when they realized they were getting worse not better." Chris grimaced at the thought. "You're right. Either, or both of us could still get sick. But, if we both do, and we are all still here, we might not get help in time. One of us needs to try to make it to town."
Mary sighed. "You go. If it hits me, I don't know if I could keep riding. Just help me move him before you go. I want us both close to the water, so I can reach it, and him, even if I get sick."
"I'll do what I can to clean him up a little before I move him. You set things up where you want them." He still didn't like the idea of leaving her there on her own to take care of the gambler, but she had made a good point. Of the two of them, he would be the most likely to be able to keep going if worse came to worse.
Mary set about fixing their bedrolls next to the spring along with the saddlebags. She turned to Chris when he carried some of the cloth from Ezra's destroyed shirt over to soak it in the water. "I need you to tell me what the doctor said to do."
"Let me get him settled and then I'll show you." He went back to the task he had set for himself, that of washing the mess off the younger man as well as he could under those conditions. It was not all that easy since it had been exposed to the air and had dried to his skin. The worst was fighting away the flies that swarmed around the ground below him, and around his exposed backside.
The shock of the cold wet cloth jolted Ezra awake and had him hissing in pain. "Easy," Chris tried to calm the startled man. "Don't mean to hurt you; just want to get you settled somewhere more comfortable. You'll feel better when I get you cleaned up some."
The gambler groaned. "Just shoot me now. It is preferable to death by humiliation." His voice was very weak, but his sarcastic comment was music to the gunman's ears.
~M7M~
Darkness surrounded him with its welcoming embrace. There was no thirst, no body that was too weak to move, and best of all no pain. Ezra floated in the sea of black, not sure of where he was, but he was glad to be away from the discomforts of the last two days.
Pain! Where the hell did the pain come from? He just wanted it to go away and leave him in the comfort of the darkness. Slowly, he drifted back down away from the sensation. PAIN! He groaned and tried to move away from it. A faint voice seeped into the void with him, and he listened, straining to hear it again. The voice was familiar, but going to it would mean returning to his ravaged body. She called to him again, and this time he didn't hesitate to follow her back into the light.
He struggled to open his eyes and then blinked several times to try to focus in the sudden brightness. The first thing he saw was a pair of beautiful blue eyes, filled with worry and fixed on his. Cool water touched his lips, but his mind was sluggish and it took a moment for him to remember what it was. Then he opened his mouth and felt that first sweet moisture slide down his throat. He wanted more, but she kept telling him to drink it slowly. Finally, he was given another swallow, and then another. Soft hands held him as he drank; whose hands? "Mary…"
Sleep claimed him away from her, but he knew she was there and he rested easier. His next conscious thought was again centered on pain, but in a different area. He realized that someone was trying to wash him and that tortured part of his body screamed in agony. He felt certain that if it were possible to die from total humiliation then he certainly would not be long for the world.
~M7M~
Mary checked the pan she had on the fire and stirred its contents. It was finally ready, so she put some of the sticky rice onto a plate and blew on it to cool it enough that it wouldn't burn Ezra's mouth.
She set the dish down long enough to wake him. "Hey…" she gave him a gentle shake. "I need you to wake up." Green eyes opened sluggishly and then drooped shut again. "Ezra, I have something for you to eat."
The gambler groaned. "No, please."
"The doctor in Eagle Bend says this might help slow down the runs," she said casually, as if it was a topic she discussed everyday. "Come on, let me help you turn over and you can lean on the saddlebags," she coaxed.
"No. It hurts when I lay on my back," he complained.
"All right, then just stay like you are, but you have to eat this." She sat on the ground beside him and held the plate on her lap. The first spoonful was met with some resistance when he refused to open his mouth. "Ezra, please."
Reluctantly, his lips parted and she managed to spoon the rice awkwardly into his mouth. He wrinkled his nose and scrunched up his mouth when the bland sticky substance registered on his taste buds.
Mary couldn't help but snicker quietly at his obvious dissatisfaction with the rice. "Just swallow it if you can't stand to chew it a little." She watched while he forced that mouthful down, and then spooned up another before he could balk again. He grimaced again and worked hard to swallow it.
He hurried to speak up before she could shove another spoonful into his mouth. "Did you taste this?"
"No. It is just rice. How bad can it be?" The look on his face said volumes. Tentatively, she took a taste and wrinkled her nose. "That is pretty bad. Hold on, I think I can make it a little better." A quick trip back to the saddlebag of supplies near the fire produced some salt. She sprinkled some over the gooey mass on the plate, gave it a stir and tasted it again. It was better… not great, but at least tolerable. She couldn't remember tasting anything that bland before. "Here, this is a little better. It might not be fine dining, but you need to eat it, whether you like how it tastes or not."
+ + + + + + +
Ezra resigned himself to forcing down the unpalatable fare. The serving of rice wasn't really that big, but by the time he had eaten it all he was exhausted. He closed his eyes and prayed that what he had eaten stayed in his body, and didn't make a dramatic exit in one way or another.
He lay there on his side with his knees drawn up to keep the cramping at bay, if possible. It was somewhat surprising that the rice had stayed down since his stomach was bound to be completely empty.
Something started nagging at his thoughts, but it took him a few minutes to place what it was. "Where's Chris?" he asked.
"He went after Nathan and a wagon," Mary answered after a slight hesitation.
"He shouldn't have left you alone here," he fretted.
She still sat beside him, gently rubbing his arm. "One of us had to get help. There is a chance we could get sick too, and if we were all here…"
The gambler nodded his understanding, even before she finished the explanation. It was true. If they were at risk, someone had to let the others know where to look. "I see." He paused and drew a deep breath. "So, what I have could be passed on to you?"
"Probably not. The doctor doesn't know for sure, but he thinks it was from something you ate. Others got sick too," she said honestly. "Everyone who got sick had eaten at the hotel restaurant the night before. Chris and I ate there last night," she added.
"Oh no… " He shook his head, not wanting to even consider the possibility that his rescuers might end up going through what he was.
Mary moved around until she was where he could rest his head on her lap and use it for a pillow. She ran her fingers lightly through his hair. "We'll be all right. If we make it to midnight without getting sick, then we probably won't get it. It is getting close to dark now, and I am still feeling fine."
Ezra sighed in relief. Not much longer to wait to see if she stayed well. Her fingers felt so good stroking through his hair. It was such a comforting sensation. His eyes drifted shut, and he relaxed in sleep.
~M7M~
Chris frowned in worry as he urged his horse to go just a little faster. Ezra was really in bad shape, and he hoped Mary could handle the situation. He knew she was a strong woman in many ways, but it was her physical strength that had him concerned at the moment. Ezra wasn't a large man, but he was still heavy. As weak as he was it was doubtful that he could be much help to Mary if she needed to move him, and she almost certainly would need to.
Larabee slowed Pony to a walk to give the animal some rest, without actually stopping. It would take another hour or more to reach the town, and he couldn't push the horse so hard for that whole time. He forced himself to be patient and tried to think of other things than the two people he had left behind in the small woods. His thoughts were rudely interrupted by an ominous gurgle in his stomach.
"No, not now," he grumbled to himself.
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