Ezra edged his horse a few feet further away as Chris let loose with another round of heavy coughing.
"Really Mr. Larabee. If you are feeling that poorly, you should have refrained from participation in this excursion."
"Wasn't feeling bad when we left Four Corners Ezra, and I wasn't about to stick around River's End feeling like this. Think it was the damned town that made me sick."
There was merit to the suggestion, simply based on the fact Ezra could not recall seeing a more unhygienic town in all his travels, which was a frightening consideration. "While I have no doubts there are myriad of illness in that Godforsaken pimple of a town waiting to attack unsuspecting victims, I do not believe a cold the severity of the one you are currently suffering from could have developed in such a short time."
"Well, I just hope the Tyson brothers get sick as well. Ain't right that the lawmen suffer, and the prisoners don't."
"Lawman Mr. Larabee. I am not suffering, at least not from your ailment, nor to I intend to. With that in mind, I hope you will not be offended if I choose to ride ahead a short distan-"
Knowing the reaction he would get Chris nevertheless went with the practical response. "Nope – stick close. There've been bandits in the area, and I am in no shape to be rescuing you."
As difficult as it was to resist, Ezra did not rise to the bait. A mild huff was his only response, as he guided Chaucer a few yards further away. They rode in silence for the next few miles, punctuated only by small fits of coughing along the way. Chris began to turn Pony to the east when they crested a hill, but Ezra reined to a stop.
"Mr. Larabee, while I am loathe to suggest a delay in returning to the comfort of our own familiar surroundings, I do believe that a rest is in order. We have not even been travelling for three hours this morning and the exercise has exhausted you. If you return home in your current condition, or more likely in a deteriorated one, you shall be subjected to the overwhelming ministrations of Mr. Jackson, and I shall feel his wrath for allowing you to travel. Additionally, any fool can see the weather is likely about to turn on us and attempting to return home in the midst of a downpour is ill-advised under ideal circumstances. I suggest that the rest of the day and the evening be spent in Harlow's Peak, providing you the opportunity to perhaps be past the worst of this by the time you – we – are forced to confront our well-intentioned healer."
Chris turned to focus his tired attention on the gambler. He scrutinized him for a moment, trying to determine what ulterior motive was there. Beyond the fact Ezra hated to spend a full day in the saddle, even when it was custom made for him, Chris could see no particular gain for Standish in the offer. It was a decent sized community, but rather boring by the standards of the area. Off the path of most travellers, there wasn't even a saloon that was worthy of the name. The last time he had passed through, the diner had three bottles of whiskey to choose from, with a town enforced two drink maximum. Gambling was forbidden, thus severely limiting Ezra's interest in the town. It was just possible that this time, there was no hidden agenda. And, truth be told, the idea of flopping down on a soft bed – any bed – and sleeping for 12 hours was enormously appealing right about now.
"Suppose it's not the worst idea you've had."
"I am truly moved by your display of gratitude for my consideration and concern." Ezra nudged Chaucer west, toward the town that lay a few minutes ride away.
The streets were empty and far more quiet than they should have been. Shops were closed and there was little evidence to be seen proving this wasn't a ghost town. Both men were automatically on alert, guns drawn and senses in overdrive. Which was why when a door opened, they both spun and pointed their weapons, much to the shock of the young woman stepping out.
"Oh dear Lord above! What are you doing here?"
Chris lowered his gun but kept it at the ready. He checked to confirm Ezra was doing the same and was a bit surprised to see him staring intently at the petite brunette. An instant later he seemed to snap back to the present and turned his head to scan the area.
"Sorry to startle you ma'am."
"Miss." Ezra hissed at him.
"Uh, Miss." Chris corrected himself, much to the amusement of the woman in question. "We were hoping to get a place to stay for the night."
She chewed on her lip a moment before speaking. "I really wish you hadn't done that." She took a few steps out before tossing the bucket of water she had around the corner of the building. "This isn't a good place to be right now."
"Something wrong?" Chris gripped his gun a bit tighter.
"Yes, but nothing that can be solved with that." She pointed at the gun, and he relaxed.
Ezra tipped his hat to her. "It does appear to be inordinately subdued Miss…?"
"Preston. Jeanie Preston. And you gentlemen would be?"
"Ezra P. Standish, at your service my dear. And this scowling specimen is Chris Larabee. Forgive him his lack of decorum, but he is feeling less that ideal at the moment."
Her smile disappeared as concern overtook her. "Oh not, not you too? Fever, vomiting, pains and cramping?"
Chris looked at her with mild panic setting in. "Uh, no. Just coughing and such. It's nothing. Ezra here just didn't think we should keep riding, but maybe under the circumstances…"
"I'm afraid you can't leave gentlemen." An older man walked out of the same building. "We have a bit of a problem here in town, and I don't think we want it going any further."
"Mr. Standish. Mr. Larabee. This is Doctor Windom. And he's quite right. We have some kind of sickness here in town, and you've put yourselves right in the middle of it."
Ezra dismounted first, draping Chaucer's reins over the railing with a stern gaze admonishing him to remain in place. He moved to help Chris down, but was waved off impatiently. Having watched the man ride for the last few hours, he nevertheless stood close, unconvinced of the gunslinger's ability to remain on his feet. The walk to the benches in front of the hotel was unsteady, but Chris did manage to get there without embarrassing himself. Ezra took both horses and looked around for the livery.
"If you need to stable them, I can show you where to go."
"What charming company for a mundane task. Please Miss Preston, lead the way."
After watching them leave, Chris turned to the doctor. "So, what's happening here?"
"I wish I could tell you. We've had people sick for several days now. Sick and some dying - fast. No idea of what started it, or what to do about it."
"You can't diagnosis this thing?" That was a bad omen.
Windom looked away before answering. "I'm afraid Doctor is more an honourary title than a fact. Been taking care of folks in these parts since I came out here 15 years ago. All I've ever really done is read about it, but up until now, that's been enough."
Given the fact those credentials weren't much different from the ones their own healer could offer, Chris didn't feel he was in a position to comment.
"I can tell you this – it's more than just a bad influenza outbreak. Symptoms are wrong for that. I'd like to let you head out, but it wouldn't be right."
Something else he couldn't argue with. He stood up to offer his assistance and came perilously close to ending up on his face. "I don't think I'm gonna be much help Doc."
"No, I wouldn't think so. I'm going to settle you down in my place. Everyone who is sick is in the hotel, the church or schoolhouse. Be best if you kept your distance from them. They don't need what you've got, and you sure don't need what they do. Be best to keep your friend away from them as well."
Chris offered a wry smile as the two walked slowly up the street. "That shouldn't be an issue. Ezra is not exactly partial to spending time helping sick folks. Or most other folks for that matter. I'm sure he'll stay out of your way." The more he thought about that, the more troublesome the idea became. "On the other hand, it might be a good idea if you could find a way to keep him busy. Idle hands and all." The truth was, Chris was quickly having concerns that Ezra was not going to want to stick around when he found out how bad things were. He hadn't even wanted to be close to Chris with a cold, so something that was killing people was bound to get him on his horse and out of town as fast as he could handle. They were going to have to have a good talk on the matter to make sure Ezra knew the consequences of running out.
They made it to the door and inside. Chris looked longingly at the chair and didn't dare let his thoughts drift to the bed that was promised. There were still a few matters to be discussed before he allowed himself the relief that would offer.
"Doc, you need to get word out to make sure no one else rides into town." Chris was having trouble standing but needed to assert himself as much as possible, which was kind of hard to do flat on his back.
"I agree, but the only person in town at the moment who knows how to operate the wire is too sick to stand up. And we can't let anyone leave until we know what we are dealing with."
Spreading this thing around, whatever it was, was the last thing they needed. An epidemic in a small town was one thing but letting it loose to the territory had terrifying consequences. Surrendering to the weakness he was feeling, Chris dropped into the closest chair.
Ezra spoke from the doorway. "The Stagecoach is due by to pass by here late afternoon, is it not?"
"Yes, but it doesn't come down into town unless we post notice for a pick-up."
"However he will stop to read what the notice is requesting."
Chris nodded slowly. "I see what you're thinking. We post notice telling the driver to notify the neighbouring towns about what's going on. That should keep folks clear. He can take word to Four Corners as well. Some of my men can come and post watch out of town."
Doc Windom was nodding. "Yes, that should work. If I send information about our situation, perhaps another doctor can be consulted to help figure out what this is, and if there is more that I can be doing. I am afraid my skills are not up to this."
"Good. Write up your note, I'll write mine."
"And I shall ride out to post the notice."
"The hell you will." Chris rose as he shouted without realizing it; he was to busy trying to ignore the spinning sensation while leaning on the seat to remain upright. "That's one hell of a way to try to sneak out of town Standish. Getting my permission to run out this time?"
"As I am of little use in ministering to the ill and Miss Preston has informed me that I will be forbidden by the good doctor from entering any sick rooms, there is precious little else for me to do. This is a mission that will not tax my apparently limited and less than useful skills."
"You mean a job that will let you get away from all of this. Not letting you do it." Chris sat again, and Ezra grinned widely but with no humour.
"I tremble at the thought of your retaliation Mr. Larabee. You can't remain vertical long enough to chastise me, so I seriously doubt you would be able to stop me. I advise you not waste your limited energy in making the effort."
Reflex action had Chris reaching for his weapon as a threat. Ezra's grin disappeared.
"That is the value I have to you? Shooting me would be nothing more than a thoughtless action, clearly with no regret. I grant you I cannot provide the aid that Mr. Jackson does, nor the solace that would be provided by Mr. Sanchez. And no doubt Misters Wilmington and Tanner would be of far more moral support at such a time…"
His head was pounding too much to deal with this. "What's your point Ezra?"
"Although I have presumed to believe I have much to offer the others can't, it no longer seems to be of any value to you. You have more than once depended on my gift for chicanery, obfuscation and duplicity in the last few months. Obviously, you have determined those are the only benefits I can offer to our ensemble. And I am in no position to dispute the claim and would not be taken seriously if I tried. You may, at this point, put aside those concerns. Even I am not selfish enough to risk a territorial epidemic, no matter how low an opinion you may have of me. I will post the information and return, avoiding all human contact in the effort. And in order to ensure I do not contaminate Four Corners, or anything else you hold dear, I promise you when this is over, if we survive whatever this is, I shall ride off in the opposite direction. It is apparent there is nothing for me to go back for. Doctor, when the notes are prepared, you will find me waiting at the livery. You should act promptly." Ezra left quickly.
Chris lowered his head to the table, too tired to process the discussion. He looked up only when he felt a pen being put in his hand, and saw paper was there as well.
"Don't know what kind of history you two have, and it's none of my business. But he's right about one thing. We need to do this now if we want it seen today."
Without even trying, Chris dropped the tool. "You write – I'll tell you what."
M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7
tbc