"Why, Ezra Standish, as I live and breathe."
The gambler looked up from his book at the sound of his name, spoken in a cultured southern drawl of the type he had not heard in a long while. The saloon was nearly empty at this relatively early hour, so Ezra was able to easily spot the tall figure walking towards the table where he sat.
Even the dim lighting and the dreary interior of the saloon could not dim the coppery sheen of the approaching man’s hair, nor detract from his aristocratic bearing. Ezra’s book fell unnoticed from his hands as he stared at the elegantly dressed gentleman. The very familiar gentleman.
"Andrew?" Ezra exclaimed in disbelief, green eyes wide with surprise. It was indeed his cousin, Andrew, in the flesh. The cousin he had not seen since coming West.
Unconsciously, Ezra smoothed down the front of his coat and adjusted his cuffs. Andrew had been the young Ezra’s ideal. Rich, cultured, confident. Secure in his position. Loved. He was everything a lonely, insecure boy had longed to be. And he had been kind to the younger cousin whom Maude had unceremoniously thrust upon he and his family. A distant cousin at that.
Andrew had taken him fishing and taught him how to shoot. Had given him an appreciation for good whiskey and introduced him to his first experiences with women. Ezra had nearly cried when Maude had arrived to claim him several months later. It was only the knowledge that he would shame his cousin that had kept the tears from falling. He had managed to stay in touch with Andrew off and on over the years, however. Until the War had come. And Ezra had gone West. And the two men were occupied with matters far more pressing than keeping abreast of old ties.
Ezra had not given much thought to his cousin since leaving the South. Indeed, he tried to remember as little as possible about most of his past. But as he rose to his feet and extended a hand, old memories and their accompanying feelings came rushing back. Ezra felt himself smiling warmly as his hand was taken in a firm grip.
"It’s good to see you, my dear fellow. Your taste in clothing appears to have improved, even if your surroundings have not." The taller man’s brown eyes were aglow with laughter and a genuine fondness for the gambler.
"Yes. Well, a wise man once told me that it is the clothing which makes the man in any type of environment."
"Hoist by my own petard." Andrew shook his head in mock dismay before waving a hand at the empty chair across from the gambler. "May I?" he asked.
"Of course. Forgive my dreadful manners. I fear I’ve spent far too much time in rough company these past few years." Ezra motioned for his cousin to sit down, and then followed suit himself.
"Speaking of rough company..." Andrew murmured, his gaze drawn to the doors where four men had just made their entrance.
Ezra followed his cousin’s gaze and then laughed aloud.
"Rough company, indeed." he agreed. "But not without a certain crude charm."
"Friends of yours?" Andrew glanced quizically in Ezra’s direction.
"Yes." Ezra was surprised at how quickly and easily that particular answer sprang to his lips.
Andrew returned his gaze to the four men, who had nodded their heads in a brief greeting to the gambler before seating themselves at a nearby table.
There was a tall. blonde man with a cool eye and a steady hand. He was not extremely large, but nonetheless, he was one of the most intimidating men Andrew had ever seen. Close by his side was a long haired, rather scruffy looking man. Wearing the most godawful coat. Not that he would say anything of the sort. At least not where the man could hear him. For one thing, it would be terribly impolite. And for another thing, although Andrew was no coward, he was no fool either. There was something about the man... The other two were far less menacing in appearance. One was scarcely more than a boy. And the other sported a mustache and had a twinkle in his eye that put Andrew in mind of several young scapegraces whom he’d grown up with. An interesting, if oddly assorted, group of men. Not the type of friends he would have expected Ezra to have. But then, things often changed, didn’t they? And not always for the better.
"So what brings you to this godforsaken town far away from even the slightest shred of civilization?" Ezra poured some whiskey into two glasses and slid one across the table to his companion.
Andrew picked up the glass and took a sip before answering. Washing some of the bitterness away. "The South isn’t getting any better, Ezra. The damn darkies got their freedom for all the good it did them or us. Half of them are starving and living in hovels I wouldn’t have housed a rat in, much less a slave. The other half have gone North, hoping to find something better. As if anyone is going to hire them there either. But they’re like children. They don’t know what’s good for them. Didn’t want to listen to their betters. They were far better off before the War. We all were." Andrew took another sip of whiskey. It did little to ease the anguish. Time was apparently in no hurry to heal these particular wounds. But Andrew wasn’t certain that all the time in the world would be enough to erase the memory of losing his home. His friends and family. His way of life.
"Tis better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven." Ezra offered, vaguely diquieted by Andrew’s words. They were nothing he hadn’t heard before. Nothing he hadn’t said himself, in fact. But that was before he had become friends with one of those ‘darkies’. It was an uncomfortable friendship at times, it was true. But it was nonetheless real.
"That is only valid for those who understand the concept. For all his flaws, no one has ever accused the devil of being unintelligent. I’m not certain one can say the same thing about negros." Andrew flicked his fingers in dismissal.
Ezra thought about Nathan. One of the most intelligent men he knew. But he did not wish to argue with his cousin. And really, Andrew was much better than many displaced southerners. He had never mistreated his slaves. Never forced himself upon the women. If he got to know a man like Nathan, Ezra was certain he would change his views. Just as Ezra himself had. But perhaps it was time for a change of subject.
"How is Jocelyn? Still as beautiful as ever and far too good for the likes of you, I presume?"
"More beautiful. She is resting in our room at the hotel. She tires easily, being in the family way and all. The baby is due in just a few months." Andrew’s tone conveyed his joy in the news. He and his wife had despaired of ever having a child.
"Congratulations cousin. But, if I may ask, why didn’t you wait until the baby was safely delivered before making such an arduous journey?" It didn’t sound like the cousin Ezra knew.
"I didn’t want my baby born there. Couldn’t stand another day of those damn carpetbaggers putting their filthy hands all over the South I knew and loved. Couldn’t bear the thought of my child watching its Daddy scrabble in the dirt beside former slaves for a crust of bread." The sound of his cousin’s voice was painful. Bitterness, as corrosive as acid, seemed to leach into his skin with every word. Oozing across the table. Filling the air.
Ezra didn’t know what to say. There was really nothing he could say. It seemed the War raged on. In hearts and minds and souls instead of battlefields. It was one of the reasons Ezra had come West. To escape all that.
"Would you care to meet my associates?" Ezra wasn’t entirely certain where that suggestion had come from. Perhaps a small part of him was proud to have the friends he did? No. It was merely a convenient way to distract his cousin’s attention from painful memories. Thereby relieving Ezra of the obligation to listen.
"It would be my pleasure. I had intended to stay in the saloon for some time. Give Jocelyn a chance to rest." Andrew followed a pace or two behind Ezra as they moved the short distance over to the other table.
"Andrew Bellingham, these are my associates, Mr’s Larabee, Tanner, Wilmington and Dunne. They are not quite as cretinous as they look, I assure you."
"Nice to meet you, Andrew."
"Don’t pay Ez no never mind, Andrew. Least not when he talks about us. Only half of it is true. Unless he’s talkin’ about my winning ways with the ladies. Then it’s all true."
"You really Ezra’s cousin? I thought Josiah said he was raised by wolves?"
The long haired man merely nodded, staring at Andrew thoughtfully.
They had just barely seated themselves when the saloon door swung open to reveal two men just entering. Nathan Jackson and Josiah Sanchez. The healer and the ex preacher walked over to the table and slid into two vacant seats.
"Andrew, these are my other two associates, Josiah Sanchez and Nathan Jackson. They..." Ezra broke off as Andrew got abruptly to his feet. "Where are you going?" he asked in confusion. He was positive that his cousin had said he planned on remaining here for some time.
"I need to go check on Jocelyn. A pleasure to meet you Mr. Sanchez. Perhaps we shall have a chance to talk tomorrow." Andrew picked up his hat and was already out the door before Ezra caught up with him.
"Andrew! What in heaven’s name is wrong with you?" Ezra put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder.
"Me? I am not the one who is associating with negros. Calling them friend. One may love one’s pets. One does not sit down at the table and have a drink with them. As if they were equals." Andrew’s tone was icy. And he was staring at Ezra as if he were a stranger. Ezra couldn’t bear to have his cousin look at him that way. The only member of his family who’d ever given him the time of day.
"Things are different out here, Andrew. One does things that are necessary, no matter how unpleasant they might be." Ezra’s tone was conciliatory. What Nathan didn’t hear and didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Right now Ezra just wanted to placate his cousin. He would worry about feeling guilty later.
A small sound made both men turn around. JD stood just inside the saloon doors. The young man wore a shocked expression on his face. A stony faced Nathan stood just behind him. It was apparent that they had both heard every word. As had the other men, more than likely. It seemed sound traveled quite a bit farther than Ezra had realized.
"You don’t really feel that way, do ya, Ez?" JD was frowning now. And Nathan just continued staring. Not saying a word.
"Well I... you must understand..." Caught between his friends and his cousin, Ezra floundered about, uncertain as to whom he should champion. Whom he wanted to champion. He was saved from having to answer by the appearance of a young boy.
"Excuse me, have any of you seen the healer? There’s some lady going into labor over at the hotel." The lad was breathless from running. Andrew’s face grew white at the message.
"Jocelyn!" Andrew began running towards the hotel. Nathan ordered JD to go fetch his medical bag and then he followed Ezra’s cousin to the hotel, with Ezra hot on his heels.
They ran up to the room the hotel clerk indicated and found Andrew cradling his wife’s pain wracked body. Ezra winced in sympathy when he saw her. Jocelyn’s normally immaculate blonde hair was soaked with sweat and her petite form made her swollen stomach seem almost monstrous in size.
"What is he doing here, Ezra? Have you completely lost your senses?" Andrew gared angrily at his cousin and the healer.
"Nathan is the town healer. He’s very good, Andrew. Better than many a doctor." Ezra tried to reassure his cousin.
"Well, he can go lay his hands on some other man’s wife." Andrew said implacably.
"But there is no one else." Ezra could hardly bear to look at the figure which shuddered and writhed in pain, clinging desperately to his cousin.
"Please. Let me help her." Nathan spoke softly. All pride and anger was put aside. The healer couldn’t bear to see someone in pain. It didn’t matter who it was. Looking between the two men, Ezra suddenly realized who it was that he should have chosen. Who it was that made him proud to call friend.
"Don’t you dare lay a hand on her. If it wasn’t for you goddamn negros, she would be safe back at home on my family’s plantation, with a real doctor to attend her." Andrew sounded as if he were on the verge of hysteria.
"She’s gonna die if you don’t let me help her." Nathan’s voice was urgent, pleading. It tore him up inside to stand there uselessly when he could be trying to save her. Nathan had a true calling for healing. Unlike many doctors.
"Just help her, Nathan. I’ll take care of my cousin." After one startled glance at the gambler, Nathan did as ordered.
The gambler ran into JD bringing Nathan’s bag of medical supplies on his way downstairs. The still figure of Ezra’s cousin slung over one shoulder caused the young sheriff to raise his eyebrows, but he didn’t ask. He just hurried towards the room where the anguished, pain filled screams of a woman could clearly be heard. JD looked rather pale as he visibly steeled himself to enter and he was rather green upon his return. Ezra didn’t blame the lad one whit. He infinitely preferred the jailhouse where he was now ensconced with the unconscious Andrew.
It was several hours before a weary Nathan came into the jail.
"You can let him go see his son, now." Nathan spoke softly, just a hint of the joy he felt apparent in his voice.
Silently, Ezra unlocked the cell. His cousin brushed past him and Nathan without looking at either of them. Just before he reached the door, Andrew paused, but didn’t turn around.
"This changes nothing, Ezra. I meant it when I said you are no longer a member of my family. And Mr. Jackson. I suppose I must thank you. But don’t think this changes anything either. You are only one man. And even a trained monkey will perform a miracle every once in a while." With that, Andrew opened the door and stepped out.
"Nathan, I wish to extend my thanks as well. And my apologies. I..."
"It’s ok, Ezra." Nathan held up a hand. "I didn’t expect nothin’ else. From you or from him." There was no rancor in the words. Just a statement of fact. Except... when Ezra searched his friend’s face, he saw that the healer’s words were not all true. Nathan had expected something else. Something better. From Ezra, if not from Andrew. The thought both humbled and terrified the gambler.
"Perhaps you should have." Ezra said quietly. Then the two men walked out into the starry night.
The End
