Main Characters: Ezra
Universe: Old West
This story should be considered pre-slash, or implied slash, Ezra/Nathan, but there is absolutely no explicit content.
This is a sequel to Such Glad Tidings. This story contains extensive references to basically all of season two. The title for this story comes from the song, Seasons of Love, from Rent.
Finally, I promise the next story will answer a few questions, sorry for leaving them unresolved for so long! <g>
December 28th, 1876.
I was awakened early this morning by a loud noise. Fearing some assault on our fair town, I stumbled downstairs in my undergarments, only to find that JD and Mr Wilmington had been roughhousing, and overturned a table. I retreated upstairs to plot my revenge, and perhaps sleep a little more, but found that I no longer felt inclined to slumber.Mr Jackson gave me this journal a few days ago, as a Christmas gift. I think he thought I would use it to unburden myself of deep and painful secrets. How appropriate that I find myself unable to record anything but bland inanities. I could never put my deepest secrets on paper, even so privately on this. So they must remain unspoken, and unwritten, while I record all manner of trivialities and details about the day's events.
Christmas Day passed in a very pleasant manner. There was good food to be had wherever we went. We shared a fine breakfast in the saloon, enjoyed lunch with Mrs Travis, and dinner with the fine Miz Welles. I fear my appetite has still not recovered.
We exchanged gifts, and everyone seemed pleased. Some considerable relief, I assure you. Since then, Misters Wilmington and Dunne have been even more boisterous and energetic than usual. JD recieved some complicated game which involves rolling dice and a great deal of yelling. His enthusiasm has not only infected Mr Wilmington, but Mr Sanchez and Mr Tanner as well. Even Chris had a turn, although his spirit seemed... a bit lacking. Christmas, I suspect, is not his favourite time of year.
JD and I have not had an opportunity to enjoy a game of backgammon, but I anticipate the fun once he is able to divert his attention to quieter pursuits.
I must go, as I will be expected to pull duty at the jail soon and would like to make myself presentable first.
January 10th, 1876.
I am writing this entry in a rather inferior hotel room in Yellowpoint. It seems my association with Four Corners and its residents has come to an end. Federal Marshall Bryce has taken over responsibility for the protection and law enforcement of the town, and we are no longer needed. I am, once again, a wandering gambler, a nomad.Nathan, I understand, went to the Indian village. The marshall forced him to close up his clinic. Practicing medicine without a licence, he said. Hah! I've known plenty of doctors with licences they didn't deserve. Nathan was a blessing for Four Corners. Some just refused to see it. In the end, it is their loss.
The others went their own ways, too. I'm not sure where they dispersed to, all of them. When I left, JD was determined to stick it out, I think. Buck had been incarcerated, but not without protest. I wonder how they fare?
I believe I will retire now. The hour is late, and I would like to be well rested for the morrow. This town is filled with hapless yokels who I am sure are ripe for the plucking. I look forward to an extremely profitable day.
January 14th, 1876.
Rereading my last entry made me smile a bit. It turns out the good citizens of Yellowpoint did not enjoy losing at poker so well as I had expected. Thanks to the timely arrival of Mr Larabee and the others, I escaped entirely free of feathers and with only a little tar.When I left Four Corners, I truly expected never to see it again. It is nice to be home once more. Home. Imagine, me residing in one place long enough to call it so! Although, it has taken considerable damage in the past few days. It will take some time to look as it once did.
I was surprised at how succesful our ruse was. My Spanish suffers badly from lack of use, but it appears it was sufficient to fool the hired lackeys of our ranch neighbours. Donning a colonel's uniform was an added bonus. I admit to indulging my vanity there, but why not, after all?
We had not been back in town five minutes when JD displaced my hat, Buck rearranged my hair, and Vin called me 'Ez' no less than four times. Perhaps more. A fine welcome indeed. Perhaps I should have kept riding.
January 29th, 1876.
Mother is in town. Funny. So many noteworthy events to remark on, and that is the one that comes to mind first. Maude is in Four Corners, and through a fortunate hand at poker, has come into the ownership of the local hotel. I find myself regarding this development with trepidation, given my own recent acquisition of a local property. My efforts to save enough to purchase the saloon have finally borne fruit, and I have high hopes. Mother gives me her word our establishments shall not come into competition. We shall see how much her declaration is worth.Mr Tanner is facing an unpleasant situation. He has been arrested by a federal marshall, and waits in the jail to be transported to Texas for trial and, most likely, execution. Chris, of course, has no intention of allowing that to happen, and I have every faith he will succeed in his efforts to rescue Vin. Still, I think the rest of us will not feel quite easy until Vin is back among us and the marshall is gone.
Buck too is finding himself in somewhat of a predicament, although of a less forbidding nature. It seems he has got a young lady in a family way, although I can hardly believe this is the first time. Buck is proving steadfastly resistant to the idea of marriage and fatherhood. Part of me believes he should do the honourable thing, but having met the young lady in question, I can sympathise with him. A more empty headed and vapid individual I have never met. I would not enjoy the prospect of marriage to such a person. Surely, the loveliest face and finest clothes are worthless without intelligence and a gentle spirit.
I have been making plans for the saloon. Some, I think, are a little overly ambitious. Replacing the furnishings will not be possible for some time, I suspect. I would like to repaint the exterior, it is in desperate need of it, but even that, I think, will have to wait. I shall settle, in the meantime, for vigorously cleaning everything that will stand the touch of a scrubbing brush.
I'm somewhat discouraged that I have had so little success in gaining investors. Thus far, JD is the only one to express an interest, but I am confident that as business takes off, the others will also see the wisdom of becoming involved. I am sure I shall be updating this journal soon, with an account of my triumph.
6th February, 1876.
Forgive my prolonged absence. I have not felt inclined to make any additions here the last two weeks.I have little desire to write anything now, but I feel a certain obligation to enter into this journal all the significant events of my life, whether good or bad. I wonder if that is a good thing?
Mother's hotel was a huge success. She redecorated it with poker tables she found in the cellar. A fortuitous piece of happenstance for her, I have no doubt. The entire population of Four Corners flocked to it. My own drab little saloon could not compare. I should not have so easily been drawn into competition. Mother was always adept at creating an atmosphere of excitement.
Mother sold her hotel, and bought my saloon before the bank foreclosed on it. Inez has taken over as manager, and proved well up to the task. So, good for them.
The others are in the saloon right now. Josiah, JD and Nathan. Buck, Chris and Vin. I don't feel much like company, so I decided instead to retire to my room. I am not hiding. I am simply resting. If I went downstairs, I'm not sure I could find anything to say.
I have conversed with Vin a few times. His spirits at the moment are lower than mine, understandably so. And I harbour no grudge against Buck and Chris, who had matters of their own to attend to.
It was an unpleasant surprise, when I walked into Mother's hotel casino, to find JD there, playing roulette. As the only potential investor I had managed to attract, I had counted, depended on his loyalty. It makes me cringe now, to think how close I came to begging him to invest his damned money. A Standish does not beg. No, we can grift, and lie, and steal, but begging is beneath us. A petty part of me thinks that it served JD right to be fleeced by Maude.
It was even worse to encounter Mr Sanchez as good as hanging off Mother's every word. But at least I now have confirmation of where his loyalties truly lie. He is a good friend, provided he is not required to stand between me and Maude. I find I have little desire to be around Josiah or JD. I suppose I will forgive them, in time.
I am angry with Mr Jackson. It takes me by surprise, each time I see him, to feel the anger flare up as though it were new. I fancy he realises how I feel, because avoiding him has been a great deal easier than it should, by rights, be.
It doesn't make sense, does it, that I should be so furious? It's not like I have any claims on Nathan's loyalty, and he made his skepticism clear from the start. "The best horse is only as good as the man riding it," indeed! It hurts a little that he would actively help my failure along. It came as a shock to see him there, to see that sign advertising Nathan's services as a physician. Nathan has always been so resolutely honest, so definite about not being a doctor. I suppose even he is not immune to Mother's scheming.
I wonder what caused Mother to come up with the idea? It is not the sort of thing she would usually do. Not that Mother is a bigot, far from it, but she is also much too aware of appearances to be ignorant of the possible consequences of presenting Nathan as a doctor. The people of Four Corners have come to accept Nathan as they have got to know him and trust his skill. Hotel guests, strangers, would hardly have the same inclination to trust. Perhaps I am seeing motivations which are not really there, but I suspect Mother targeted Nathan, targeted all my friends, to encourage me to leave. To show me that they don't feel bound by loyalty or friendship to stand by my side. It is a disturbing possibility. Particularly Nathan's involvement - how did Mother get him to agree to work for her? And why did she approach him? Because she had some idea of the impact it would have? Good Lord, I hope not.
I feel a little bit disgusted with myself for wallowing in self pity and resentment like this. So I lost my dream of owning a saloon. Oh, calamity! Vin lost his dream of clearing his name, proving his innocence. Which loss is greater? If I had been less preoccupied with making the saloon profitable, might Eli Joe's death have been prevented? Useless to wonder now, I suppose. It will not help Vin.
What kind of lifelong dream is running a saloon, anyway? Of having plenty of money and things and being surrounded by luxury all the time? What a noble endeavour! Nathan's dream is, and always has been, to be a doctor. And I know it is not so he can make more money, or get more respect from people, but so he can help more people. Being the resident physician in Mother's hotel may be the closest he ever gets. Who am I to resent him for it?
It is time to put this silliness behind me. I can't imagine the others will tolerate my surliness for much longer. Tomorrow I will buy JD, Josiah, and Nathan a drink. I will even mix the drinks with some of Nathan's noxious pain reducing tea, so they know they have really been forgiven. I can be noble, too.
8th February, 1876.
It has been an entertaining day. It took Mr Wilmington very little time to see Inez's charms, and fall for them. Inez, however, has proved delightfully resistant to Buck's flirtation. I knew she was a lady of great intelligence and dscriminating taste. Nathan and I have had a great deal of enjoyment teasing him about it. It is a nice change of pace from Buck's usual baffling success at wooing women.It seems, however, that Inez is not without a few demons. She has been followed to Four Corners by a man named Don Paulo, who claims that Inez stole from him. I do not like this man. Apparently, neither does Buck, and he has challenged Don Paulo to a fight. Most of the people of this town are treating the upcoming duel with anticipation, and I admit this situation is rife with opportunity for a man such as myself. Quite a number of people have seen fit to wager on the outcome, although when I mentioned this to Misters Sanchez, Jackson, and Dunne, they did not seem to approve. Perhaps I should have kept it to myself. It's not as though I wish to see Buck harmed, and I don't think he will be, but taking care of the town's entertainment is expected of me. It's my responsibility. If Buck sees fit to make a spectacle of himself, why should I refrain from profiting it? The others don't seem to see it the same way, though. Mr Jackson seemed almost... disappointed in me. Baffling. It's not as though I have given him reason to expect otherwise.
11th February, 1876.
It has been a busy few days, and I finally have had a few spare minutes to update my journal. Buck was pronounced fit today, much to his relief and, I suspect, to Mr Jackson's.The duel did not turn out as expected. No one had anticipated that Don Paulo would demand a fight with swords, not guns. It is fortunate that Mr Wilmington had such capable instruction.
It was a great surprise to learn that Nathan was so skilled with a blade. Mother saw to my own training in order to give greater veracity to some of our ruses. I doubt I could ever match Nathan's skill though. Unsurprising, after hearing how he learned to fight. I feel a little guilty for asking him to spar, and foolish for thinking that I would win easily.
Buck coped very well in the duel, considering the short time he had to prepare. However, Don Paulo was an expert swordsman, and Buck's injuries were quite severe. A relief that he has recovered so well, thanks, again, to Mr Jackson's expertise. Buck even got a kiss from Inez out of the exercise, although I suspect he was hoping for more.
27th February, 1876.
I recieved a letter from Mother today, advising me to exercise caution in my activities and not to be too trusting of strangers. I wonder what game she is playing with this warning? A better question may be, what has she got into now? I wish her letter had been more forthcoming, but in its entirety it read "Dear son, all you encounter may not have friendly intentions. Please take care and approach with caution all you meet."I wonder if this is somehow related to the attack on Mr Jackson and myself last fall, and that strange kidnapping just before Christmas. It would be just like Mother to somehow involve me in one of her schemes, and not notify me until months later. If that is what led to Nathan nearly being killed, I shall be severely displeased.
14th March, 1876.
The past week has been highly eventful. We were visited by the notorious Nicholls family, seeking revenge for one of their own. Their kinsman, as it turned out, was killed by Chris' father in-law, who thought the man was the one who killed Sarah and Adam.Realising that Hank Connelly had lost his wits affected us all deeply, I think. It was too easy to see how Chris could have wound up the same way, without Buck's intervention. He is blessed to have such a good and loyal friend.
I had to endure an extensive lecture from Mr Jackson on the foolhardiness of my scheme. Apparently jumping on the roof of the wagon with a bottle of whiskey was reckless and needlessly life endangering. I offered to hear Mr Jackson's suggestions as to what we could have done instead, and he shook his head at me and stalked off. Nice to know I would be missed in the event of my untimely demise.
31st March, 1876.
I was awakened this morning at the utterly detestable hour of six o'clock. I would be happy to never become so intimate with a sunrise again, but I suspect so long as we are tasked with ferrying about this hapless wagon train, I shall continue to be dragged out of my comfortable (well, relatively speaking) bedroll at the most unpleasant times.Perhaps due to unspeakable sleep deprivation, I somehow convinced myself that engaging in a contest with Buck was a good idea. Normally, I suppose, it might be, but the terms of our bet require us to attain the amorous affections of a young widow. Not an onerous undertaking, you might say, but for some reason I suggested that the way to go about this was to befriend the widow's portly son. I'm not sure what possessed me. A desire, perhaps, to show that I have the same impulses as any normal man, without being obliged to actually indulge those impulses. Convoluted, I know, and entirely without reason.
Vin has also caught the eye of a comely young lady. A less lighthearted event for him, I suspect, as the young woman's husband is very much alive and suspicious of Vin's every move. I hope Mr Tanner treads carefully in this manner, but for once his instinct for self preservation seems to be going ignored.
1st April, 1876.
April Fool's Day. How very appropriate. Some of us, of course, are probably more foolish than others. I feel fortunate that the others were too engaged in their responsibilities this morning to be aware of the date.I do not, however, feel fortunate for the nature of those responsibilities. This morning we buried a young man, Jack, who was killed last night when Dicky O'Shea attacked the encampment. He left behind a wife, a devoted woman who seems despondent in her grief. Nathan is tormenting himself over the man's death. I have never seen him doubt his abilities like this before. He must know that he did all he could? And I doubt that any doctor could have done more. I would like to tell him so, but he has been discussing the matter with Josiah, and I think he may be a better confidant in this situation than myself.
I feel as though we should have prevented this somehow. It's why the judge sent us, after all. To stop O'Shea from bringing harm to the homesteaders. But, as Chris pointed out, we didn't know what we faced. That O'Shea would use explosives, and use them so effectively, was something none of us could have predicted. And, now that we do know what lengths O'Shea will go to, I'm still not certain this will help us at all in stopping him. How can we defend ourselves against this? I simply continue to have faith that our leader will come up with a plan.
2nd April, 1876.
Mrs Richmond was kidnapped last night, causing considerable distress to her husband and to Vin. Truthfully, Vin seemed more concerned than Mr Richmond did, and I feel for his wife. Mr Richmond appears, at times, a cold and distant man.We retrieved Mrs Richmond safely, employing a simple ruse and fleeing. Which reminds me... I must take greater care in concealing this journal. If Mr Wilmington displays as little respect for a man's journal as he does for private correspondence, I dread to imagine what he might do if this account were to fall into his hands. Perhaps I should simply destroy it, but I am reluctant to do so. In many ways, it would be like losing a friend. And besides, Nathan gave it to me.
Vin and Mrs Richmond left to return to the wagon train while the rest of us distracted Dicky O'Shea's gang, but they have yet to return. Mr Richmond is becoming increasingly agitated. I feel concerned, both that Vin may be in some trouble wherever he is, and that he may be in trouble upon his return. But Vin is a grown man, and shall decide for himself what action is best to take.
3rd April, 1876.
Buck's attempts at wooing the delightful widow were an abysmal failure, but so were mine, so neither of us came out of the enterprise looking particularly clever. I'm not sure what I expected to gain from the exercise. That Buck would triumph and I could gracefully retire with my masculine pride intact, perhaps. A failure on all fronts, then. Josiah succeeded where we two failed, and he is welcome to his victory.Vin eventually returned with Mrs Richmond, to a rather hostile reception from Mr Richmond. Mr Richmond has ordered Vin not to set foot on his land once they arrive. Mr Tanner has been broody and unsociable since then, reacting with anger to a little friendly teasing.
Nathan and JD made an interesting discovery yesterday morning. It seems that there may be gold in the land to which these prospective ranchers are travelling. That certainly explains O'Shea's interest in the land. Nathan expressed some doubts as to whether there really is gold in the ground, or whether the prospector who's body they found was simply engaged in wishful thinking. But I can feel it, on the edge of my senses and making my skin tingle. There is gold in this land, and where there is gold there is hope. Isn't that how the saying goes? I may have got the wording slightly wrong, but I am willing to hope there is gold, so I find it perfectly serviceable.
4th April, 1876.
Drama ensued today, as we discovered Vin and Mrs Richmond to be missing. I had not thought Vin capable of such underhandedness, and confess myself somewhat impressed. Wherever they are, Vin and Mrs Richmond are probably rather safer than the rest of us.O'Shea has become more vicious in his attacks. His latest effort would have had disastrous consequences, had not Billy noticed the dynamite's fuse. As it was, a grievous injury was suffered by the young fiddler whom Nathan had befriended. Before his death, he bequeathed to Nathan his share of the land. Nathan at first tried to refuse, but was eventually persuaded to accept it. I admit, I may have had some involvement in that. Just a little. And the fact that there is reportedly gold in that soil had nothing to do with it. Really. Nathan does a great service to Four Corners and gets little in return. It's only right that he should get something for his efforts. And if I were to benefit from it in some way also, where's the harm in that? Not that Nathan has appeared receptive to the idea thus far. I'm sure he will eventually see reason.
5th April, 1876.
We may be returning home sooner than expected. It seems the homesteaders are losing their will to fight against O'Shea, and will prefer to cut their losses and yield their land rather than risk more deaths. It is almost a pity, as we had another encounter with O'Shea yesterday afternoon and were beginning to gain the upper hand, but the decision is not ours, and I can hardly judge their choice.Vin and Mrs Richmond have returned. Mr Richmond has been injured, and his wife hovers around him, attentive and concerned. I think Vin is reconsidering his attachment to her in light of her apparent devotion to her husband, and I can't help but think it is the wisest thing he could do.
Still no luck convincing Nathan to make good use of the land bequeathed to him, but it is only a matter of time. I shall simply have to find the right tactic to appeal to his altruistic nature. It doesn't come naturally; most of my marks in the past have been manipulated by greed, but Nathan is nothing like them. I don't really consider what I'm doing to be a con, really. Well, it may be, but it is one which will benefit many people, if Nathan will just be convinced.
7th April, 1876.
Today, we head home. It should be a slightly faster journey, as there are fewer of us, and we are not burdened by wagons. I am eager to return to the relative comfort of Four Corners.Dicky O'Shea is dead. Charlotte is staying with her husband, and Vin is staying with us. Mary decided, after some hemming and hawing, to refuse Gerard's proposal, so she too is coming with us back to Four Corners so she and Chris can continue their... whatever it is . Things shall remain as they are, a little longer. I should be happy about this, I suppose.
Nathan gave his land to Jack's widow. It is so like him. Infuriatingly, bafflingly selfless. I feel resentful, and guilty because surely I have no right to resent Nathan for being noble?
I wonder what buttons Mother pushed, exactly. What did she do differently to me? How did she get him to pose as a physician for her so easily?
Perhaps I shouldn't assume that it was easy, but I can't imagine how her offer could have appeared more attractive than mine. I was so shocked when I learned that Nathan had been involved in what was, essentially, fraud. Deceit. My scheme offered a mantle of legitimacy with it. I thought that was what Nathan craved above all else, the unquestionable right to call himself a doctor? And how could he have helped more patients, working in some tiny room in Mother's hotel casino, than he could as the head of his own hospital, which was aided by the profits of a wisely run business?
How, in short, did Nathan find my mother's scheme to be acceptable, and mine not. The obvious answer is that Mother is a better con artist than myself. She would claim such a thing, but I refuse to accept it. Or, Nathan simply has a better opinion of Maude than he does of me. Equally unacceptable.
Nathan's revelation that he gave the land away took me by surprise quite a bit. I allowed my stupidly hurt feelings to unduly influence me, I fear, and I suggested that I would court Jack's widow to win the land. Pretending that the scheme was all about the land and the gold, and had nothing to do with Nathan at all. My heart wasn't really in the ruse, though, and it showed. Offering my assistance to a young lady who was clearly about to bathe was probably one of my stupider moves. Oh, well. At least it should distract Nathan and the others from things I would prefer they didn't notice.
Perhaps, once we get back to Four Corners, I shall cultivate a new hobby, like horticulture.
16th April, 1876.
Yet another surprising day in Four Corners. A pleasant surprise, this time. We don't tend to get so many of those.When JD asked me, a long time ago, when my birthday was, I didn't expect him to remember or to do anything about it, but it appears I was wrong. It has been a long time since I celebrated the date of my birth. In truth, I'm not even certain today is the correct date. I can thank Mother for that, I suppose. She taught me to be so thorough in my duplicity. Every pseudonym had a history, a background. Middle names and towns where they grew up and dates of birth, each one different. After changing my name so many times, I can no longer recall which birthday is really mine. It is in April, I know that. April the sixth or April the sixteenth, one or the other. I could ask Maude, but cowardice has got the best of me. I'm not sure which would be worse; that she would find it terribly amusing that I had been so careless as to misplace my own birthday. Or, that she would not remember herself when it was.
But enough of that. Today I descended the stairs at a reasonable hour, to encounter the others at our usual table, all alight with cheer and ready to offer jokes and remarks on my age. Later on, I was treated to a fine dinner, several glasses of fine whiskey, and cake. The cake was a surprise, I must say.
The real surprise came after, when everyone else had left. Nearly everyone. Mr Jackson had remained behind to ensure I was not too inebriated to climb the stairs, or so he claimed. When we were alone, he pulled something from his pockets and pushed it into my hands, saying it was a birthday present. Mumbling, really. It was several small cloth bags filled with herbs. The herbs have a pleasant aroma, but, according to Mr Jackson, if I hang them in my wardrobe, they will not only ensure my clothing smells fresh, but will discourage moths and other insects.
A few weeks ago, I had been complaining of having to choose between moth-eaten apparel and smelling like a poorly kept hospital, but I was surprised to learn anyone had been listening or cared enough to do anything about it. Mr Jackson had gone before I could muster appropriate appreciation, but perhaps I shall be able to make my gratitude known tomorrow.
12th May, 1876.
Mother is back in Four Corners. She returned to arrange for the sale of the saloon, and is currently residing in the jail, accused of pilfering a pair of diamond cufflinks. The cufflinks, she says, were planted in her bag by one Preston Wingo, as a prelude to blackmail. A dubious story, I find. Mother is not above theft if it promises to be sufficiently lucrative. And perhaps I was not dismayed by the prospect of a little revenge.When I asked JD to escort Mother to the jail, one would think I had suggested he dance naked in Main Street with a fruitbowl on his head. "Ezra," he said, "that's your mother!" Well, of course she is my mother, how could I forget? Little nuisance. When the judge wanted me incarcerated, he couldn't do it fast enough. No questions asked. But Maude arrives with stolen goods in her suitcase, and it's all, "Oh, you can't do that Ezra! That's your mother!" I think even Mary would have been willing to turn a blind eye at finding those cufflinks if I had allowed it.
Unfortunately, due to our less than friendly reunion, Mother has not been inclined to be forthcoming about that letter of warning she sent to me several months ago. Since then, I have not encountered anything to make me think her warning had weight, but I doubt Mother would have sent it without good cause. Anyway, I should not dwell overmuch on the situation. There are, in fact, more pressing matters to attend to. We are facing a trial which has the area deeply divided, and Nathan's father is in the middle of it.
Obediah Jackson has been accused of murdering a white man, and would have been lynched without a trial had we not arrived in time to prevent it. The judge has decided to hold the trial here, rather than at Eagle Bend, as the local populace had become too infuriated to hold a fair trial.
I hope for the best outcome here, for Nathan and his father, but it seems that was not enough to overcome some lingering resentment I have harboured. Nathan needs someone to act as an advocate for his father, and I presumptuously announced that I was unable to act in such a role, being too occupied with my own concerns. Nathan quickly replied that he had had no intention of asking me to do so. Well, fine. Josiah is going to do it, and I am sure he will do so admirably. Better him than me, whom the judge has little reason to like or trust. Josiah has an air of respectablility and trustworthiness that cannot be fabricated.
15th May, 1876.
Preston Wingo arrived, and was as unpleasant and as repulsive as Maude had suggested. What a loathsome man. With a little creative contract writing, we got Wingo to drop the charges, and had arranged a marriage between the two not-quite lovebirds. Mother absconded with the gentleman's carriage before the knot was tied, however.I am dutifully recording these details to avoid putting down what has occupied my mind ever since yesterday. The trial for Obediah Jackson went ahead, and he confessed that he did, in fact, commit the murder of which he was accused. He had reason. I think no one can argue otherwise. What must it have been like for Nathan, learning such a private and painful truth, in public, in the presence of so many unfriendly faces? I can't imagine such a thing.
I have seen little of Nathan since the trial. He spends most of his time with his father, trying, I suppose, to have as much time with him as possible while he can. The judge indefinitely postponed the execution, but Obediah Jackson suffers from consumption and his time is limited in any case. I feel for Nathan. He must be grieving for his mother's death as though it just happened, and he is facing his father's demise as well.
4th June, 1876.
We buried Obediah Jackson today, after a small service. Josiah took care of the formalities, and the rest of us were there, as well as Mrs Travis, Mrs Potter, and a few others.Mr Jackson is in the saloon now, with Josiah and Mr Wilmington. He seems to be taking his loss quietly, suffering grief in silence. I hope he will be able to confide in his friends and find comfort with them, in time.
Over the past weeks, I think we had all come to like and respect Obediah Jackson. The terms of the judge's arrangement required that one of us be with him at all times. At first, we didn't follow the directions too rigorously. We were a bit concerned about retaliation from Eagle Bend, and to that end we made sure Obediah was protected. In time, as his condition worsened, it became necessary to have one of us with him, to care for him. Most often that person was Nathan, of course, but we all took our turn.
Nathan's father was a wise man. I thought, at first, he might not wish to have much to do with me. It turned out I was wrong. Mr Jackson (senior) was a perceptive man too. Perhaps because he had so little time left, I felt able to be more forthcoming with him than I have been in many years. I shall miss him.
19th June, 1876.
So much has happened in the past three days, and I have not had a chance to set down any of it until now. I'm not sure, now, where to begin.Li Pong is gone; she left on the stage this morning. I could see her face through the window, and when the coach began to move, her smile lit up the street. I knew then that sending her home was the right thing to do. Truthfully, up until then I had been having some doubts.
I had wondered if it was a good idea to return her to her family which was so poor and had sent her away once already, but it was clear she wanted nothing more than to be with them. I gave Li Pong some money. Enough for travelling expenses, I told her, but there should be some left over. Enough, hopefully, that she will not have to leave her home again.
I think Li Pong would have stayed, but it was best that she did not. I think, given time, I could have loved her. I did love her, but she would never be first in my heart, and she deserves that. Not to be my second choice because I was foolish enough to fall for someone who will never return my affection. I am angry at my weakness, that I took advantage of her kindness and innocence. She said she was willing, and I took her at her word, but I should have thought. She is so young, much to young to decide something like that. It should have been my responsibility to protect her from - from people like me.
Perhaps sending her home was simply a way of avoiding facing what I have done. That sounds much more like me. What would Nathan say if he knew? I can imagine. I was angry about what he said when he came to my room, but in the end, he was right. Perhaps I'm as bad as he thinks I am.
The good news is, that Rupert Browner's operation has been shut down, and the rail company will be keeping a closer watch on things from now on. The Chinese workers got the money owed to them, and Browner has gone to jail. So, something good came out of it after all.
30th June, 1876.
The past week has been very quiet, but today the stage arrived to offer a little diversion. We have a few new faces in town to offset boredom. The Whites are being visited by some relatives who live a few days travel from here. There are a couple of prospecters who have had some luck at their claim and have returned to civilisation, such as it is, to reap the rewards. There is a cowhand in between jobs who, for some reason, seems to have latched on to Mr Wilmington, and finally, Mr Garber. Mr Garber is a man of similar tastes to myself, one who enjoys games of chance and the finer things in life. It is pleasant to have company which knows the difference between a Windsor and an Ascot, not that either are frequently seen in these parts.It is late in the evening now, but I wanted to add something more before I retired. I was, a short while ago, in the saloon, playing cards with Mr Garber, when Mr Wilmington's cowhand friend approached us and began making conversation. Not, in itself, remarkable, but his interest in me seemed entirely too great. I wonder if Maude's training makes me see ulterior motives where they do not exist, or if I simply attract the attention of unscrupulous characters more than other people do. I shall have to keep a close eye on the young man to determine his true purpose.
3rd July, 1876.
I am writing this entry, once again, in Nathan's clinic. A few evenings ago, I took in a pleasant meal with Mr Garber, and afterwards became violently ill. The full extent of my revolting sickness I shall not divulge here. If not for Mr Jackson's attentiveness, I fear I should not be here to write anything at all.All the others have visited with me at different times. Buck shared with me the joke he played. The cowhand who had such an unusual interest in me; Mr Wilmington had told him I might know of ranchers in need of workers. The young man had been pestering him without pause, and Mr Wilmington had hoped to divert his attention. The young man was merely fishing for leads on where to find work, and simply wasn't very good at it. So that will teach me to be so suspicious.
Mr Garber has left town. He left the day after I became ill, and, although I asked, no one was sure where he was headed. If I mentioned my suspicions to Vin, he might try to follow the man's trail, but to what purpose? Any evidence he will have destroyed by now, and although Nathan noted that my symptoms were consistent with arsenic poisoning, we have no proof.
25th July, 1876.
Tragedy struck today, as a pair of scoundrels attempted a bank robbery. Young Miss Annie recieved a severe wound and her recovery is uncertain at best. The burden falls most heavily - well, among our little group - on Mr Dunne. During the bank robbery, he tripped and accidentally fired a shot through the window of the bank, so it was his bullet which Mr Jackson removed from Miss Annie's chest. I'm not sure how Mr Dunne will cope if Miss Annie does not survive.It turned out our bank robbers were not without friends. Their compatriots arrived in town not long ago, their leader determined to take the body of his brother for burial. Chris was equally determined that we should retain the corpse in case the Julestown sherrif wished to verify the man's death. Eventually, the men left, but not willingly.
On the lighter side of things, a gentleman is in town by the name of Lester Banks, a gambler like myself. I had anticipated a more challenging than usual game, but discovered that somehow Mr Banks had acquired three kings which I certainly did not deal him. I have been pondering for most of the day how he accopmlished this without me noticing.
26th July, 1876.
I should not drink. Good Lord. Not only am I suffering from a miserable headache and unsettled stomach, I have discovered that imbibing too much liquor turns me into a boorish and unfeeling swine. Vin shall probably never forgive me, and I can't blame him if he does not.
30th July 1876.
Life here can be so harsh. I sometimes wonder if I should leave, and return to civilisation, where young lives are not so frequently lost to the brutal reality of the frontier. Then something reminds me why I wish to remain; a smile or a laugh or a kind word. It frightens me when I realise how much I have changed, how much I have been changed.Miss Annie eventually died from her wound. JD was distraught, but I think he has come to some sort of peace with it now. The hostility of the townspeople has also abated, after JD saved the stagecoach from its would-be robbers.
The newspaper printed Vin's poem, and it was truthfully very good. I made my apologies to Vin, as best I could. (I am not adept at them) He says all is forgiven, and, knowing Vin, he meant it, but I still feel perfectly dreadful about the incident.
On a brighter note, the mystery of Lester Banks has been solved! Mr Banks, as it turns out, possesses a false leg, which he uses to store extra cards and other items. No wonder he was able to cheat without being detected! I have challenged him to another game; perhaps this time I shall be able to recoup some of my losses. I am quite anxious to recover from my total humiliation, wandering half naked through the main street of town, and I would also quite like to win back my ring. According to Mother, my father gave it to her. I'm not sure how reliable her claim is, but if it is true, it is the only link to him I have.
11th August, 1876.
I have been taking refuge in my rooms from a fierce dust storm, which has made the town positively uninhabitable the past few days. Even aside from the dust, however, Four Corners is not a pleasant place to be at present. Someone in town is murdering young women, and suspicion has somehow come to fall upon our own Josiah.I am certain he will be proved innocent in due course, but for some reason Josiah seems reluctant to speak in his own defence. He has been out of sorts since returning from Vista City.
Mr Jackson is currently entertaining a visitor; Miss Rain from the Seminole village. Evidently, her people have found her a prospective suitor, and she has come to see whether she can badger Mr Jackson into making good on his offer or marriage, or if she should accept the hand of this other man.
That was uncharitable of me. Rain clearly seems divided between her love for Nathan, her need to be practical and her desire to please her friends and elders at the Seminole village. I hope the two of them can arrive at an acceptable solution.
13th August, 1876.
The mystery has been solved, and the culprit was revealed to be the very detective who was pretending to investigate the crime. So Josiah is absolved, and Cyrus Poplar is in the jail. Josiah seems in a somewhat beter temper now.Nathan is away from Four Corners briefly, accompanying Rain back to her home. It appears the lovebirds have agreed to continue their engagement and are endeavouring to become better acquainted with one another. I retired to my room afterwards to drink a toast to the happy couple. I have been toasting them for the past three hours, and have another three bottles to continue the toasting into the night. I think I had best finish this entry now, as my script is becoming illegible and I fear the liquor has loosened my tongue.
15th August, 1876.
Cyrus Poplar was collected today, by a federal marshall and two deputies. It is a relief to have him gone. In the time he was here, I don't think he came to see that he had done anything wrong or even understand what it was he had done, although he was certainly adept at hiding his tracks. Poplar, I have concluded, is a very sick man.The other notable thing that happened today was Nathan returning from the Seminole village. I had thought he might be gone a little longer. I have not had a chance to converse with Mr Jackson since he got back. In fact, I don't believe Mr Jackson has spoken to anyone since his return. So far as I know, he has spent the past few hours in his clinic.
Perhaps I shall go up to the clinic later, and see if Nathan is in the mood for some tea.
28th August, 1876.
Today proved to be the culmination of a plan which was in development over the past week, but which I did not mention here, just to be safe. It was the day we had agreed on to celebrate Nathan's birthday, as he does not know the date of it, only the month. It was a highly enjoyable day, all told. We had arranged for good food and several bottles of fine liquor. We played poker, and Mr Jackson walked away the victor. (I think the others all suspected I had something to do with that, and let it pass in honour of the occasion.)We all had a small token to offer to commemorate the day. Some cigars, a new pocket knife, some paper of the variety Nathan favours for labelling his medicines. We questioned him about what Rain had given him, but he did not reply. Buck took his silence to mean he had got his gift early, and, how shall I put this - in person. From Mr Jackson's expresion, I think something else was motivating his reticence. My own gift was several new handkerchiefs, and if Nathan was at all surprised he hid it admirably.
Later, after the others had all retired, I followed Mr Jackson to his room and gave him his real gift. After my disastrous escapades at Christmas time, I had decided against journeying to Ridge City again. Through correspondence with the craftsman there, however, I arranged to have delivered a music box identical to the one I intended for Nathan at Christmas. It arrived without mishap, to my relief.
I'm not sure why I didn't want the others to be privy to my true intentions, but it suited me to have them think I couldn't be bothered to go to special lengths for Nathan's birthday. And it felt like a very private thing, something that the others would have been intruding on, had they known. I think Nathan preferred it that way, too.
Nathan's surprise when he opened that parcel was clear. I think he was very touched. There were a few moments where he was quite speechless, and then he said the box was wonderful, a welcome reminder of his mother. I was glad that my gift was so well recieved. Nathan asked me in, and we drank tea and listened to the tune play. I took my leave a little while later, but the light in Nathan's room did not go out for some time after that.
16th September, 1876.
Once again, we have some visitors in town; this time, a pair of lady bounty hunters. They arrived in time to help us thwart the attempted rescue of a convicted felon. They are determined to go after the remainder of the gang on their own to secure their bounty, and are ignoring our concerns about the wisdom of this. Two people going after Dale Spivak's entire gang is foolhardy at best.The two women are odd, to say the least. One of them told Josiah he is bad luck because he is a preacher. Then she made threats against my life, and then grabbed JD and dragged him out of the saloon. Perhaps I should have been more concerned, but I didn't think she meant JD any harm. And she didn't, as it turned out, but her plans may have caused some irreversible harm to JD and Casey's courtship. I have come directly from the saloon after discouraging Casey from trying to "sow wild oats" with me! I wonder who filled her head with such nonsense? I suspect Vin, who was conveniently standing nearby to witness the entire display.
19th. September,1876.
Mr Jackson has just informed us that JD will recover, and after a brief celebratory drink in the saloon, I wanted to write the news down. Somehow, I feel that having written JD's status in ink will make his recovery more certain.Mattie is dead, shot while attempting to escape from the jail. Kate, so far as I know, is returning to the farm where she grew up. With luck, she may be able to have a chance at a decent life now.
Buck seems to have regained his spirits somewhat, after a few days moping about like a child who's just learned that Father Christmas does not exist. I can hardly hold his concern for Mr Dunne against him, but I was becoming irritated with his constant claims that he could scarcely believe Mattie had shot him. How has he managed to cling to his naievete for so long? For one who claims to know as much about women as Buck, he is behaving very foolishly at the present. Of course, I never had the opportunity to develop fanciful illusions about the female sex, thanks to Mother, so I experienced no great shock over the incident. I had thought Buck was similarly familiarised with the depths of human nature, but apparently not.
Mr Jackson's suggestion was surprisingly effective, I had never thought him capable of such underhandedness. Of course, that was not the first time I had passed myself off as a lawyer, and Kirkland was scarcely a challenging mark. If, a few months ago, someone had told me Nathan would be helping me to pull a con, I would have checked them for fever.
18th October, 1876.
Confound Mr Jackson, and his infernal good nature! Thanks to him, I spent the day tending to a group of tiny, poorly behaved and extremely loud children, ensuring that they were kept out of harms way while their dirt-farming parents saw to the last of this fall's harvest.Apparently, Nathan, in his capacity as healer, had noticed that there were a few families about the place with young children, too young to take part in the harvest or be left to themselves. And because these same families were apparently incapable of finding anyone to watch over their spawn during this yearly task, somehow that duty became entrusted to me.
I'm not sure how it happened. I had plans to spend the day as delightfully idle as I could manage, perhaps squeezing a few games of poker in between long bouts of doing nothing. It was going to be wonderful. The next thing I knew, I had agreed to accompany Nathan on a ride. (Let it be noted: never trust anyone who can smile like that, Ezra.) When we arrived at our destination, it turned out to be a run down farmhouse with thirteen (yes, thirteen, and I am by no means superstitious but may reconsider after today) children below the age of six, from four different families.
Nathan spent the day divided between helping me supervise the hellions - I mean children - and taking care of a few jobs about the place. I'm not sure exactly what needed doing. Sometimes I suspected he was fabricating chores to escape the children's constant shrieking, but he did repair the roof of the barn, and also prepared a beef stew for dinner. No small task, as there was not just us and thirteen children to feed, but the children's parents, several of their uncles and one aunt.
From that description, one might form the impression I had the easy job, but let me assure you nothing could be further from the truth. Five of the children were still in diapers, which throughout the course of the day needed to be changed twelve times. (That's twelve times in total, not twelve times per child, of course.) One of the toddlers, a young man by the name of David, apparently has a vulgar and extremely physical sense of humour, which I discovered the first time I changed his diaper. Fortunately, I had discarded my jacket at that point, but my shirt may never be the same.
Of the older children, four were girls, and between them they had three dolls. A sure recipe for disaster. None of the girls were inclined to share for any length of time, and although I devised a few impromptu toys, none of them seemed to be as appealing as the dolls the girls had bought with them.
I found that the dolls belonged to Cathy, and the sisters Emily and Elizabeth. I fashioned a sort of doll out of a few rags for little Meg, but I think the fact that the doll lacked clothes may have made it less alluring. I shall have to see what scraps of cloth Mrs Potter has on hand, that might make it a suitable wardrobe.
I thought the girls proved quite a handful, and was relieved that the boys seemed more capable of entertaining themselves independently. That proved a serious error of judgement on my part. While I was changing swaddling cloths and making makeshift toys out of odds and ends, the four boys were amusing themselves by making "paint" by using the house's water barrel and various kinds of mud they found in the garden. Having done that, they apparently decided that the walls of the house made an excellent canvass, and set to with their decorating.
I didn't realise what they were up to until some time later. Well, in truth I didn't realise what they were up to until Nathan returned to see how we were getting on, and drew my attention to their "artwork". He was kind enough not to criticise me for my lapse in attention, and helped me in occupying the children and seeing that the house was cleaned up.
One of the boys, a five year old named Roger, had created a surprisingly good likeness of his family's milk cow, which it almost seemed a shame to remove. I had noticed a few days ago that Mrs Potter has a few pencils which she is unlikely to sell - the lead is too soft for writing, but ideal for drawing. And Mary always has a good supply of paper scraps from printing gone astray. I'm sure she would not mind donating some to a worthy cause, and Roger would certainly enjoy pursuing his creative endeavours in a less destructive way.
I will have to do something about these ideas on the morrow, but right now I am so exhausted I think I had best retire before I fall asleep sitting upright with a pen in my hand.
23rd October, 1876.
Excitement has come to Four Corners once again. This town is truly a hub of action, with not a moment of dullness. The latest hubbub revolves around a debate on the virtues of statehood. Many parties in town feel strongly about the issue, and it has not always been a peaceable discussion. To make matters worse, earlier today Chris, Vin and myself found a man deceased in his hotel room: one Lucius Stutz, hired assassin, and a huge sum of money suggesting that he was not here for his health.Mr Larabee and the others have devoted thei attentions to discovering who Mr Stutz's intended target was, but to my mind the more pertinent question is what is going to happen to the ten thousand dollars we found? I think Chris believes it should remain safely in the bank until some government bureaucrat decides what to do with it, but it is far too large a sum to be so wasted. I'm sure Chris will eventually come round, he is a reasonable man.
5th November, 1876.
Mr Jackson today pronounced me once again fit for duty. I do not feel much like writing anything. I'm leaving now for my patrol.
6th November, 1876.
I've no wish to write anything today either. And probably won't tomorrow.
8th November, 1876.
This is silly. I will have to write down what happened eventually. Might as well get it over with.It seems I was not so immune to temptation as I had thought. My shame is that my friends knew this, discerned it easily while I remained oblivious. "I thought my friends would know me better". It seems they do know me better, much better than I know myself. Enough to know I cannot be trusted.
When Josiah gave me that bag, I was determined to prove myself. Keep the damn money safe, and untouched, as well as anyone else could. Then I heard Josiah discussing the matter with Misters Larabee and Jackson. Their conviction that giving me the money was a stupid thing to do, a problem they would have to solve. "We'll deal with this later", that's what Chris said. It started to seem that staying in Four Corners was a pointless exercise. I would never be trusted, I could never do enough to prove myself. I decided to leave, and having the money there made the decision a lot easier. Maybe I could have found reason to resist temptation, if one of them had shown faith in me.
No. There I go again, blaming my friends like Josiah said. They are not responsible for what I did.
Things between Mr Jackson and myself are once again awkward and strained. I had thought we were getting along better following that business with the lady bounty hunters. I could hardly have conned Mr Kirkland any better with Maude at my side. Now, Nathan does not speak to me unless it's in some medical capacity. The time I was forced to spend in the clinic was positively painful.
Mr Larabee's skepticism didn't bother me terribly. It was expected, and I think I convinced myself that he was only doing what he had to, as a lawman. Doing the right thing. But when I bought the situation up with Nathan and JD, that was when I began to realise all six of them thought I would commit larceny as easily as swatting a fly. "I wish I knew what to say." How like Mr Jackson! Too tactful to say what he really thinks, but too honest to offer a comforting lie.
Apparently, it was only the wad of money in my coat which saved my life. During the war, a young man in our company was shot in the chest, his life saved by a copy of the Bible he kept in his breast pocket. He became something of a mascot to us, the soldier saved by his faith and the good Lord's will. He died a few months afterwards, of a fever, but still we talked about the miracle. Who knew a fistful of stolen cash could have the same effect? If the Lord saved Philip's life, what does that mean for me?
It doesn't matter anyway. I can scarcely claim to be a man of faith. In my darker moments, I think it would have been better if I hadn't even been wearing the damn coat when I stepped out to save Mary.
I shouldn't have written that. I think I will rip this page out and burn it. Then maybe I can forget this whole mess.
28th November, 1876.
Today is the anniversary of Sarah and Adam's death. I have not sighted Chris all day, it seems he has gone to Purgatorio to expel his grief and rage in whatever way he can. Buck and JD have gone to find him and bring him back. Some lady by the name of Ella Gaines has paid them fifty dollars - apiece! to do so. If only I had been in the vicinity when such a generous offer was made. But, I suspect the two of them will be better able to handle Chris in his current state than myself, and like as not their earnings shall be gracing my own pockets after our very next poker game.I have been entertaining myself by attempting to get Mrs Gaines to share tales of Chris from years ago, before grief made him the man he is now. It has provided a welcome distraction from the unease among our little group. Well, when I say among our little group, everything seems to have returned to normal after my disastrous effort to abscond with the assassin's money, save that Nathan continues to avoid me. I feel anoyed with myself tor taunting him with my mercenary nature, my failure. Asking after the damned money even after being caught trying to steal it. Oh, I framed the whole thing as a big joke: look at Ezra, so greedy, so materialistic, can't give up, and Chris seemed to take it in the same spirit. But my comment was really directed at Nathan, trying to show him that his coldness didn't affect me, that I didn't care what he thought of me. If I could have simply mustered a little contrition, he might have forgiven me by now.
2nd December, 1876.
We have spent the last few days at Mrs Gaines' home, which is being threatened by one Jack Averal. The lodgings are primitive, but the pay is good. In addition, entertaining diversions are available to all. Josiah has taken up golfing, despite a total lack of talent. JD has taken to tormenting Buck, who is being pursued by Ella's niece, a woman named Hilda. And Mr Jackson spends every possible moment with a doctor in Ella's employ, questioning him about medical matters.Chris has declared his intention to remain with Mrs Gaines once our work is completed. He seems truly happy here, and I think we are all glad that he has found a measure of peace, and has recovered his ability to love. I think we had all thought Mary Travis might be the woman to do that for him, but it had been a very long wait with no sign of increased closeness between them, and perhaps Ella is the better match for him.
4th December, 1876.
Who could have anticipated the shocking revelations which awaited us all? Well, it seems Vin did, but Mr Larabee was reluctant to listen to him when it threatened the happiness he had finally managed to find. Ella Gaines was the one who hired Cletus Fowler to kill Chris' family. She escaped in the following gunfight, and so Chris was once again robbed of his chance for revenge. He was wounded, but has had the rest of us searching for Gaines. So far, there has been no sign of her.Things ended rather unhappily for all of us. Nathan's friend Doctor Chisholm, turned out to not be a doctor at all. I won from the man a diamond, a bequest from a patient. Unfortunately, the diamond was dislodged from its setting when struck by a bullet in the unpleasantness. I should simply take to carrying riches in my pockets all the time, my life may well depend on it. Hilda, the niece who was so taken with Buck, was fatally wounded while trying to defend his life. Buck seens to have had some sort of epiphany over the incident.
Riding back to Four Corners, I was bemoaning the loss of my diamond to Josiah, who, I must say, was an exceedingly patient audience to my bereavement. Mr Jackson overheard, and said rather acerbically, that the diamond should never have been given to me anyway. The patient had almost certainly died as a result of the doctor's incompetence, and should have been given to some deserving family member. Although, Mr Jackson's tone suggested that he thought lowly pickpockets would be more deserving than me. He may have a point. But, it is not my fault that Doctor Chisholm was a fraud. And I won the diamond fair and square.
I did not point out that had I not had the diamond, that bullet would have killed me. I'm not at all certain that that would change Nathan's mind, and I feel that such a miracle can reasonably only be experienced by a man once in a lifetime. I keep expecting some unidentified deity to notice the error, and take measures to correct it.
11th December, 1876.
Today, Josiah reminded me that there remain only a few weeks until Christmas. As if I need reminding. I feel as though I have barely recovered from the last one. Josiah broached the subject for a reason: apparently Nathan has been trying to arrange something on behalf of the poorer families in the area, the ones who may not be able to have much of a Christmas celebration otherwise. Josiah asked me if I could help with the preparations. I wonder whose idea that was? I can't imagine Nathan suggesting it, although he would probably enjoy seperating me from as much of my savings as possible.Josiah has been collecting toys and other things donated by families around Four Corners, and asked me if I might help delivering them on Christmas Eve. I suggested providing a dinner on Christmas Eve, where everyone might be welcome and perhaps entertainment might also be provided for the children, after which we could distribute the gifts here in town. This, I argued, would eliminate the need for me to stir mself from my warm bed on a cold Christmas Eve. Josiah got a knowing look in his eye, and pointed out that providing a meal for the entire town would cost more than most people could afford. Only then did I see how I had been cleverly manuevered. I informed Josiah that I was unable to participate in their Christmas arrangements, having plans of my own to attend to. I certainly will not be manipulated into paying for the whole town's Christmas dinner. Perhaps I might feel inclined to contribute a few turkeys to roast. And if I have the time to spare, I might be moved to entertain the children with a few card tricks, but I will not allow the others to come to view me as some sort of benevolent samaritan.
The church would make an ideal place to hold the dinner. We could, perhaps, borrow some tables from the saloon. We could ask the restaurant to prepare the food, and perhaps Mrs Potter and a few other ladies could be persuaded to contribute a few desserts - plum pudding and cake and cookies. The children would enjoy that.
I wonder what gifts Nathan and Josiah have already collected, and which children they're giving them to? Do they know that Emily would like some nice clips for her hair? And this might be a good time to give Roger some real paints. Have they got anything for the babies? Beatrice Hawkins' parents could use a proper crib, I know that. Perhaps we could take one out to them a few days before Christmas. Josiah could probably make one, if he had the materials.
What am I doing? No, no no no no. There is going to be no townwide Christmas celebration and I am not going to foot the bill for it. Stop this at once!
16th December, 1876.
Paul Drake has agreed to sell me five turkeys for a very reasonable price. All I have to do is collect them on the twenty-third. Perhaps I could get JD to collect them; he is generally pleased to have an excuse to get out and about. I won't mention it to JD until the day before, however, as he is appallingly bad at keeping secrets.The construction of Beatrice's crib is well underway, and Josiah is also making one for Matthew Stewart. Josiah has proved a very useful mediary in all this planning, allowing Josiah, Nathan, and myself to plan the bulk of this even without Nathan and I actually having to talk to each other. Sometimes I wonder if our spat is getting out of hand, and if one of us should perhaps apologize. Probably, but it won't be me.
In Mrs Potter's store, I found several combs that I think Emily would be delighted with, and a few other things as well. Mrs Potter, I think, anticipating what the items were for, refused to accept the full price for them. She is truly a remarkable woman. She has agreed to keep the gift purchases secret, and also intends to provide a few pies for the Christmas dinner.
Inez says she will lend us the tables from the saloon, provided we move them to the church, and back again afterwards. If anyone is likely to give away our plans, it is Inez, although she too has promised not to. Not that secrecy is really a great concern - not to the others, anyway. But I would prefer that as few people knew about it as possible, or at least, that one particular person didn't know about it. Unfortunately, that person happens to be a fairly good friend of Inez's.
Mother has come to Four Corners for a visit, for some reason. Well, she says the reason is she needs to discuss something terribly important with me, which can't be trusted to the postal service. Thus far, however, we haven't had an opportunity to discuss anything, because anytime we have a spare few minutes together, Josiah or Chris pops up wanting to ask some question about our Christmas Eve arrangements, and I have to make up an excuse so that Mother doesn't realise what we're planning. I haven't told the others that I want to keep our plans from Maude, because I don't think they would understand my reasons or believe me if I explained them. It is simply that I know Mother would think my involvement in this foolish and whimsical, take it as another sign of me losing my touch, and berate me for participating in what amounts to charity. I don't wish to have her mock me for trying to do something unselfish, and it seems simpler to just keep her from finding out. I have convinced the others that Christmas Eve should be a surprise as much as possilbe, but they are very casual about it, so I have had to be on my toes to intercept Mother's conversations. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up; hopefully Mother will conclude her business here and be gone soon.
18th December, 1876.
Today is a remarkable and glorious day. I think it would be appropriate to call it magnificent. Magnificent, yes. It started yesterday.It didn't start well, of course. Josiah needed some sort of hinge from Mr Watson's hardware shop, something he could use to attach the cradle to the legs so it could rock. He sent me off to get the hinges, and I still cannot fathom why he thought that was a good idea. It took myself and Mr Watson the better part of an hour, I would say, to find what Josiah wanted.
After that exertion, I returned to the saloon, only to find Mother there, engaged in a game of cards. I might have ignored her, but soon noticed she was cheating her opponents. And, although I have been known to cheat in the past and might still, from time to time, engage in a little sleight of hand strictly for recreational purposes, I did not think I could allow Mother to cheat in my saloon while I had the ability to stop it. So I invited myself to her game, and saw to it that the other players won back most of what I had lost. Mother, of course, quickly realised what I was doing, and the other players drifted away as it became clear that we were both focused solely on defeating the other. Our game continued a little while longer, both of us cheating outrageously but neither of us able to gain the upper hand. We had nearly stopped playing when Mr Jackson entered the saloon.
Mr Jackson and I had not exchanged a single unnecessary word in nearly two months, but the silence was so strained between Mother and I that I thought it might improve matters to invite him to the table. Mr Jackson declined, muttering something about liking his money just fine where it was.
That left Mother free to voice, for the umpteenth time, her various grievances with me and my current lack of affluence, which, I think, might have more effect here if I record them verbatim: "Ezra," she began. "This town has made you casual about your appearance. Your clothes have fallen into an abominable state. If we were in New Orleans I should be ashamed to be seen with you. And your hands - do you take no care with them at all? Anyone might take you for a servant here, not a guest. And I can see you have become too trusting, it is the trouble with being around the same people for too long. That trust could cost you dearly. But the worst part, Ezra, is that I think you are forgetting all the lessons I worked so hard to teach you. I didn't raise you to be a pauper, but that is exacly what you seem to be aspiring to! I warned you the longer you stayed here, the more your chances for profit would decrease."
Mr Jackson was standing nearby at that point, and apparently thought that was his cue to join in. "I don't reckon Ezra has forgotten how to turn a profit. He's still quick to spot a little unclaimed money, or nice piece of jewelery up for grabs. Just doesn't seem to be too good at hanging on to them, but can't blame him for trying, I suppose."
I don't think Mother heard Mr Jackson at all, continuing where she had left off. "What truly hurts, however, is being cheated by my own son, when I came just to visit him for Christmas."
Well, Nathan, of course, remembers his mother fondly and disapproved of my behaviour towards my own. "You disgust me, Ezra! Your mother comes to visit, and you just see it as a chance to make a little more money! There ain't anything decent about you at all! I bet you're not even helping us put together that Christmas dinner because you want to help, are you? Do you actually care about those kids, or are you just working on some fancy con?"
The next part still makes me snicker a little. Mother affected the greatest shock and disgust on hearing that. "Ezra P. Standish!" she said. "Have you forgotten everything I ever taught you? Have you no shame? There are limits, you know that! We never, ever, ever involve children in a con!"
I find that darkly humorous because I can remember several occasions when mother was desperate or tempted enough to violate that supposedly sacred rule. And she never had the slightest hesitation in getting me involved in whatever she was up to. Anyway. Mother chose that moment to make a grand exit from the saloon, saying that she found the confrontation to taxing for her nerves. I stood stunned for a moment, before making a pragmatic retreat to my own rooms, but Mr Jackson followed me.
He caught up to me on the landing of the stairs, saying; "I thought you'd changed, Ezra. I thought you were becoming a better person, but you ain't ever going to change, are you? Well, are you?"
I was quite furious by that point, and had lost any inclination to guard my tounge, so I found my own words quite accusatory. "Why do you care if I change or not?" I asked. "If I become better or not? You think me beyond hope of redemption, you've always made that quite clear! You've barely spoken to me since I took that money... since I saved Mary's life!"
I was startled when, in the next moment, Nathan pushed me against the wall, gripping the lapels of my coat in his fists. He lowered his face down near to mine, and hissed angrliy, "You could have been killed!"
The moments of silence which followed were, I think, time for both of us to catch up, for us to realise this had stopped being an argument and become something else. So, when Nathan repeated those words a second time, he no longer sounded angry, but frightened, and perhaps a little surprised. "You could have been killed."
I think it's safe to say that Nathan and I have repaired the rift between us. In a short while, I am going to track down Mother and force her to explain her presence in Four Corners. Maybe I will ask her to stay on for the Christmas feast. And maybe she will even accept the invitation. Right now, nothing seems impossible.
The End