A Good Man
The seven men had been called upon to help a family being terrorized by a gang of horse thieves on the outskirts of the town. It hadn't been complicated and they had been quickly driven off. The thieves were no match against the skills of the seven gunmen.
They had learned that one of the children, a little girl named Lillith, had been sick. Ezra had been drawn to her plight and had acted particularly kind towards her. Josiah had noted that Ezra had a way with children, teasing that perhaps his own often-stunted maturity for some things had accounted for the affinity. Nathan had agreed as he had seen the bond between Ezra and the Seminole children, particularly a young boy there. It had made the men wonder given how Ezra had been raised. They didn't know much about Ezra's childhood, but having met Maude, they couldn't imagine where any kind of empathy could have been nutured by her and learned by him. They saw the greed and the pettiness, but not the kindness and caring. His treatment of women also defied his upbringing. Maude's belittling could have easily turned a son into an abuser of women or at the very least could have implanted disrespect for them, but neither quality had emerged in Ezra. He carried a deep sense of esteem towards women and for all of his flowery speech which often smacked of derision in order to elevate himself above others not similarly educated, his deference towards women had always been sincere. He wasn't the womanizer that Buck was.
Ezra had comforted and cheered young Lillith as she fought the fever that had assaulted her. Even knowing that she was suffering from the highly contagious scarlet fever hadn't detered him from making her smile with his card tricks. As she recovered, he had promised he would continue to visit her.
It had been a few days later that he had begun to fall ill himself. It had started with a sore throat and chills. Nathan had wanted him to rest, but he had insisted that he was fine. Then one day, he had vomited his breakfast, cramped in pain and was drenched in sweat. Nathan, with the help of Chris and Vin, placed him in the livery attic bed that he used as his makeshift hospital. Ezra continued to protest, but when the fever had made him too weak to protest any further, he finally reluctantly relented.
Despite the condition being contagious and Ezra insisting that they not risk themselves, even employing the logic that they all couldn't be felled to the fever because there would no one to protect the town, his friends had visited and had tried to give comfort where they could.
Mary had come by with some soup and had been worried by how Ezra had looked. He was pale, breathing laboriously, drenched in sweat. She sat next to him, placing the tray on the bed. Ezra turned to look at her and remarkably managed a smile to greet her. It then fell with concern.
"You mustn't risk yourself, Mrs. Travis. You have young Billy to consider," he breathed tiredly.
Mary was touched by Ezra's concern.
"Billy is with his grandfather just in case the fever spreads through the town."
"Then you must take care of youself. He's already lost his father. He cannot lose you as well, not because of your ministrations toward me."
Mary found herself moved by his words.
"I appreciate your concern, but you need not worry. Focus your energies towards your recovery. Can you take a little soup?"
Ezra shook his head.
"I'm afraid I am unable to hold any nourishment down, but I am grateful for your kindness."
Mary nodded then put away the tray, but didn't leave.
"You needn't feel obliged to stay," Ezra breathed heavily.
"I'll wait until Nathan returns. You shouldn't be left alone."
Ezra smiled.
"Madam, I have been alone many times in my life both in sickness and in heath. I've become quite accustomed to the condition."
There was sadness in Ezra's voice that Mary detected.
"You have friends here," she insisted softly.
Ezra took in an exhausted breath.
"I feel fortunate to be in the company of good people such as yourself, undeserved as it is."
"That's not true -"
"You need not be conciliatory on my account. I know that the others consider me little more than just another gun. I have come to terms with it. If respect was my sole reason for staying, I would have left long ago."
Mary felt saddened, learning of Ezra's assessment of his worth to the town.
"If you feel that way -"
"Then why do I stay?"
Ezra closed his eyes in pain then smiled.
"Strangely enough, I feel belonging here. I have searched for that all of my life and I have found it among courageous men and women such as yourself."
Mary looked at him, realizing that the fever was revealing him bare to her.
"I'm not courageous..." She said.
"Your humility doesn't come as a surprise to me, but raising young Billy on your own, unabashed in your love and protection of him proves to me that he not only has a courageous mother, but a mother who will teach him compassion towards others."
Mary was moved by Ezra's compliments towards her and she felt compelled to return the favor.
"You've saved the people of this town so many times…you saved my life, placed yourself in the path a bullet to do it. I can't do or say enough to thank you for that."
Ezra trembled with chills, continuing to smile.
"I couldn't bear the thought of Billy being orphaned. I admit that it was that instinct that drove the action, but you mustn't forget the money, my intentions were not completely selfless, more self serving, really."
"Be that as it may, a man without principles, without a care for humanity would never have done what you did, would have continued to walk away, would have turned a blind eye. You didn't and I'm still very grateful for that."
Ezra nodded and licked his lips. Mary reached for a cup of water and assisted him to drink from it.
"Thank you, both for your words and your kindness."
Ezra laid back.
"Sleep, Ezra."
Ezra's expression changed.
"I'm a coward, Madam. I fear that if I close my eyes, it will be my last."
"You're going to be all right," Mary insisted.
"I'm not as certain as you are," Ezra said with a shaky smile. "Josiah once mentioned serving a penance. Well, I have done much to warrant my own penance to be served. I fear that I will meet my Maker before I have had a chance to make good on all the misdeeds I have wrought."
"You have done much good, Ezra. I would gladly testify to that. You are a good man."
"Good manners do not a good man make, I'm afraid, dear lady."
Ezra then fell into unconsciousness. Nathan had entered at that moment. He had found her holding Ezra's hand.
"Mrs. Travis, I thank you for watching over Ezra for me. I can take over now."
He noticed that Mary was stroking Ezra's hand, looking at him with pained compassion.
"He thinks very little of his contribution to this town. He believes he's unworthy of the respect the town feels for him, that I feel for him."
Nathan had no response, unable to defend Ezra for he had seen the selfishness of his character first hand despite the contributions.
"It's a mask, you know, the uncaring, selfish facade he puts up."
"Why even bother with the pretending?" Nathan asked.
"He's been badly misjudged in the past. So much so that it's easier for him to be measured by that opinion of him than to try to change the perception even though his actions speak so differently."
"He's told you something?"
Mary gazed at Ezra's face.
"He doesn't have to. Any one possessing a little compassion can see that he is a good man, seeking recognition for his help, but instead all he gets is ridicule for his very human failings."
"Seems to me if he wants recognition, he shouldn't act like a cheat, a larcenist."
Mary rose up from her chair. She then turned to Nathan, her expression filled with disappointment and disapproval.
"Has there ever been a time when he wasn't by all your sides, risking his life to save this town, to save all of you?"
"There was the time in the Seminole village, he almost left us –"
"But he didn't, did he? Yet you still judge him by that one moment of frailty. Are you telling me that you have never had a moment of doubt, a moment of fear of dying? Never questioned whether losing your life was worthy for a cause?"
Nathan stood silent, feeling the glare of Mary's judgment upon him.
"All of you take him for granted and he takes it because he thinks it's what he deserves. Would it hurt any of you to look past the mask and see the courageous man in your midst?" Mary scolded softly as she walked out.
Nathan bowed his head. He then looked over at Ezra and had to admit to himself that he had never expected him to stay as long as he had, that he had assumed Ezra would tire of always being put into the line of fire and leave for greener and more profitable pastures, but he hadn't. Yes, Ezra seemed greedy, but truth be told, Mary was right, when there was a need, he had been there and Nathan had taken it for granted.
Ezra began to moan and awoke with a start. He looked around him, startled at first. When he focused on Nathan, he relaxed.
"My apologies, Mr. Jackson…I seem to be a tad confused."
"Understandable. It's the fever that's doing it."
"No doubt," Ezra said. "I'm glad Mrs. Travis finally decided to go back home. Her kindness was quite above and beyond the call."
Nathan took Mary's words to heart and had resolved to try to understand Ezra better.
"Can I ask you something?" Nathan asked.
"Of course," Ezra said, his voice laced with pain.
"Why did you risk your life to be with that little girl Lillith? You knew she had the fever."
Ezra laughed even though it made his breathing more labored.
"It does seem terribly uncharacteristic of me, doesn't it? To care for someone other than myself."
Nathan grimaced. It was not his intention to give Ezra a negative impression.
"No, it's just –"
"It's all right..." Ezra said with a weak and trembling smile, a hint of resignation as well on his face.
Nathan had noticed it and had felt himself the slight he had delivered to him.
"With all of the excitement, she had been left to suffer silently and alone. I…I well understood how she felt and wanted to provide comfort."
Nathan had remembered back in the Seminole village where he had seen the bond Ezra had forged with the children to involve them in fighting for their families. What Ezra hadn't known was that he had also overheard what he had said to the little boy about courage, omitting himself from the company of the others.
"You seem to have a way with the young'uns."
Ezra smiled again. Nathan knew some of Ezra's smiles, especially the short-lived ones, were defense mechanisms against any compliment tossed in his direction.
"As you know, Mother lacked some essential maternal skills…but she did what she could with the skills she did possess…" Ezra said almost dreamily. "Perhaps, it's why I can sympathize."
"Something you ought to know," Nathan said. "At the village, what you told those children about courage, I heard it. I didn't mean to listen in, but…I know we've had our differences and I don't claim to always agree with your ways, but you stuck by us then and many times thereafter when you could have left. That makes you just as courageous as any of us. I'm sorry I misjudged you."
Ezra laughed weakly.
"Mister Jackson, while I appreciate your words, you haven't misjudged me at all. I am nothing more than a gambler, a scoundrel, and a thief. Your distrust is well placed. I have no right to ask you or anyone else to treat me differently. I have not earned anything better from you. Being a marksman, a mediocre one, at that, doesn't make me an equal among you, no matter my protestations to the contrary."
Ezra then closed his eyes again. Nathan felt the weight of guilt befall him. Mary had been right.
Mag7Mag7Mag7
Inez had heard from Mary that Ezra wasn't doing well and hadn't eaten her soup. Even though Buck had professed his intentions to win her affections from the very beginning, going so far as to duel for her freedom, it had been Ezra she had been drawn to. Though she had felt badly for taking advantage of him, using his mother, to manage the saloon, in her own way, she thought she was protecting his investment. She had seen how his mother had belittled his honest pursuit at business, to not fall prey to the dishonest methods of his mother and she had admired him for that. She watched as he unflinchingly went with the rest of the seven men, the Magnificent Seven as they were called, to rescue the innocent, to protect the town and though each of the seven was brave, it was Ezra who began to touch her heart by revealing sides of himself that no one else had seen or had bothered to find.
She had seen his caring nature towards the sick girl, Lillith, making her smile even when she was suffering the effects of the fever. She had watched him act like a gentleman towards the advances of the young woman Casey. He could have easily had taken advantage of her, Inez knew such men, but despite his seeming greediness which she had viewed as someone who had valued money probably from growing up poor, his humanity far outweighed any opportunism. After all, she had done the same thing by ingratiating herself to get a job from him. She had known her share of evil as well as courageous men, but there were very few men who had revealed vulnerability as Ezra had and he had intrigued her. She warmed another bowl of soup and had decided to bring it up to him herself in the hopes he would eat for her.
She entered the room, heard his rapid and strained breathing. As she got closer, she felt her heart ache for the pain lining his face. He opened his eyes and she felt embarrassed.
"Inez?" He said, his voice cracking under the strain of the fever upon him.
"Yes, yes, Senor Ezra, I have brought more soup for you."
"While I appreciate the gesture, I'm afraid, hunger has left me stranded," Ezra said with a weak smile.
Inez saw Ezra's suffering and put down the tray. She then reached for the wet cloth sitting in a bowl of water. She wrung it out then placed it on his forehead and she felt his body release with relief.
"Thank you," he sighed.
"I wish I could do more for you," Inez said, her voice tinged with emotion, her eyes unexpectedly filling with tears.
Ezra, even in his weakened state, heard the sadness in her voice and saw the glimmer of tears.
"There, there, you have done so much for me already, preparing this repast for me. It is I who wishes I could accommodate."
She saw the genuine gratitude coming through the suffering and struggle he was enduring and her heart broke for him.
"I'm sorry," she blurted out, her emotions overcoming her.
"For what? You have nothing to be sorry for."
"For allowing your mother to take further advantage of you by making me the manager of the tavern."
Ezra reached out his hand, grasped hers and squeezed it feebly. He then smiled.
"It was for the best. Mother always knew better when it came to business matters…it is thriving because of your deft hand. I have never borne any ill will towards you for that. I admired you for your entrepreneurial spirit."
Ezra's kind forgiveness of her only brought more tears into her eyes. He looked at her, confused.
"It was not my intent to make things worse, but sometimes I find that is my gift, making things worse."
"No, no," Inez said as she brought his hand to her cheek. "It's not you…I…"
Inez found herself becoming more and more overwhelmed by her emotions and in that moment, she finally recognized what it was she was feeling. She loved him and her frustration came from not knowing how to tell him without him thinking it was coming from pity.
"Then what is it, darling? You can be honest with me. I do not wish to cause you further pain."
"You aren't causing me pain…It's just that I am worried for you, you must get better. You must let me…" Inez trailed off, afraid to say her next words.
"Let you what?"
"Oh, I am saying everything wrong," she said frustration in her voice.
"It's all right –"
"No, it's not because I…I'm afraid that you'll think I'm only being kind because you are ill, but I am not…I …" she said. "I love you, Ezra. I have for awhile now and I don't want you to die."
Ezra took in rapid breaths and looked into the pools of Inez's brown eyes and saw the affection open to him in them. He didn't think it would ever be possible that a woman would look at him with such affection and for him to feel the same such affection.
"You have made me the happiest man on this Earth, Inez. I, too, have harbored ardor unspoken for you in my heart, but felt unworthy of it and of you."
Inez's fear turned into joy with Ezra's proclamation of abiding love for her.
"Then live for me. Please, live for me."
Ezra slipped back into unconsciousness and Inez could only hope that he had heard her and that it would give him a reason for living.
Mag7Mag7Mag7
Josiah had decided to stop by and check on Ezra. Their last encounter had been one of recrimination and he had been feeling guilty about it even though Ezra had already put it behind them or so it had seemed. He had challenged Ezra to seek redemption from within himself not from others then had acted as the serpent, tempting Ezra with his own "apple" by thrusting the assasin's bag of money into Ezra's hands. Though he truly believed that everyone must find their own redemption, he had been cruel to insinuate that Ezra would not find the measure of respect he had so wanted from his fellow lawmen, men who should be his friends as well given all they had gone through together.
Ezra saw Josiah and smiled.
"Come to give me last rights, preacher?"
Josiah's guilt was written all over his face and Ezra realized that his levity had been misplaced.
"What's wrong, my friend?"
Ezra calling him his friend stung because Josiah knew he hadn't been as faithful a one as he should have been.
"I have come to offer an apology for my harsh and unfair treatment of you. I need you to know that I was suffering my own failure at facing down the temptation of that money and in that failure angrily accused you unjustly."
Ezra blinked and swallowed, understanding and compassion on his face.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Josiah. You were right to press me into facing my demons. I cannot desire respect and trust if I haven't truly earned it in your eyes, in the others as well. If I had, I wouldn't have had to ask for it, embarrassingly, beg for it really."
"You shouldn't have to because it is there from all of us. We're just not men who are capable of expressing it. Forgive me."
Ezra breathed deeply.
"There is nothing for me to forgive. As a true friend, you spoke the truth. It is I who could not face that truth," Ezra said. "I do wish to ask a favor of you, if I may."
"Of course."
"If my time comes –"
"It will not…" Josiah insisted.
Ezra smiled again.
"Consider it a failsafe then. Just in case."
Ezra breathed tiredly. "I would be honored if you would say a prayer for me."
Josiah was moved and felt the unworthiness of the request.
"I realize that perhaps I have not earned the right to ask of you such a thing and I can hardly call myself a religious man, especially given my blasphemous use of the Bible to further my ill gotten gains, but it would give me great comfort if you could do this for me. Perhaps putting in a good word for me on my behalf?" Ezra smiled.
Josiah felt honored and yet guilty that Ezra, despite his treatment of him, had asked such a responsibility of him.
"You humble me," was all Josiah could say.
Ezra just nodded weakly and drifted back to sleep.
"Rest, my friend, for I expect you to keep me from fulfilling that promise."
Mag7Mag7Mag7
Word of Ezra's condition went through the town and Casey found herself needing to see him. She had put him into a terrible position with his friendship with JD and yet he had treated her with respect. She had never told him how sorry she was for her behavior and suddenly, worried that Ezra could die without knowing that, she had really wanted him to tell him that. She had told JD what she had tried to do and he had forgiven her, understanding that what she had seen with him and Mattie did seem compromising and he had needed her forgiveness as well. JD had walked her to the room, but she had insisted that she had needed to see Ezra on her own alone. He had understood, knowing that he would need time with Ezra as well.
Ezra awoke seeing Casey and threw her as bright a smile as he could for her. He was surprised to see her there and didn't want to frighten her with how deathly he must have looked if how he was feeling was any indication. She was still a very young woman who hadn't seen all of the ugliness of the world and he had wanted to spare her. Her budding romance with JD had been a delight for him to observe.
"Casey, good to see you."
"How you feeling, Ezra?" she asked shyly.
"Like recovery is around the corner."
Casey couldn't help, but smile at how hard Ezra was trying to act better when she could see he was far from getting better.
"I…" She stumbled.
"What is it, darling?"
"I wanted to thank you."
"For what?"
"For not making me feel like a fool when I tried to…you know," she dodged, embarrassed to even recount her behavior.
Ezra just smiled.
"Well, it is I who should be thanking you for flattering me with your offer. If it weren't for my friendship with JD -"
"I know, the obligation," Casey smiled.
Ezra then clenched his eyes closed in pain, cursing inwardly that he couldn't maintain his façade.
"Ezra? Are you all right? Should I go get Nathan?" Casey said, her voice cracking with worry.
"No, no, just a twinge of discomfort is all. I'm fine," Ezra said unconvincingly.
"I'll let you rest, Ezra. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciated your kindness towards me. I know I'm not cultured or beautiful so the idea that you could even think of me as –" Casey said embarrassed.
"Nonsense, young lady. Don't ever let any man treat you less than as the charming and lovely young woman you are. JD is a lucky man to have your affections. Never let him forget that. I'll make sure to remind him myself. He'll have me to answer to if he should ever mistreat you. You have my promise on that."
Casey blushed from his compliments.
"Thank you, Ezra. I'll let you sleep now."
Ezra nodded. He delighted in bringing a smile to her face and had meant every word.
Casey then left and JD came in after her.
"You asleep, Ezra?"
Ezra wished he could sleep. The exhaustion in his entire body begged for sleep, but the pain asserted itself much more loudly as to be not ignored and had made sleep elusive.
"No, sleep seems to be escaping me despite my best efforts to court its affections."
JD smiled.
"I wanted to thank you for what you did for Casey, for me."
"No need, young man. It's clear to see it is you she holds in her heart."
"I almost lost the chance to tell her how much I care about her."
Ezra felt JD's regrets and understood.
"You must never let love slip through your fingers if you are lucky enough to have a lovely young girl as Casey returning your affections. It so rarely opens its heart to you. Mistreat her and you'll have me answer to."
JD sensed that Ezra was speaking from experience and respected the advice as he let him fall asleep. He had seen Ezra's compassion towards women so he hadn't been surprised that he had treated Casey with gentility.
JD was worried about Ezra. He was looking deathly and weak. Though he still talked like the Ezra he knew, even with the same vocabulary and tone of voice, the fever was diminishing the energy of the man. For all of his schemes, Ezra had always fought by their side without hesitation and JD felt ashamed that he had added his voice of distrust with the others when Ezra had proclaimed that he couldn't abide that distrust.
Mag7Mag7Mag7
As the day wore on into night, Ezra's condition wasn't improving, he was still feverish, going in and out of delusions and having trouble breathing, Nathan was worried. He had gathered the others around just outside the room where Ezra was resting.
"How is Ezra?" Chris asked.
"Not good. He's not getting any better. He's having trouble breathing and is delusional from the fever."
"Is he going to die?" JD asked concerned.
"Don't know. It depends on how much more he can take and his will to live."
"Well, then there's no problem. Ezra has enough arrogance to fight back," JD said, a shaky smile on his face though remembering how badly Ezra had looked when he and Casey had visited him.
Nathan's grim expression silenced everyone.
"I'm worried that Ezra has no fight left in him."
"Now, why would you think that?" JD asked.
"He's not trying anymore. He's stopped eating, is barely taking in any water. He says he can't, but I think he believes he has nothing to hold him here."
Chris straightened, his expression grim. He'd been where Ezra was now. Defeated, feeling as if without Sarah and his little boy, he had nothing to offer the world, but Buck and this new purpose had changed all that. He may never fully be the Chris Larabee that he was with his family, but these friends, Ezra included, gave him a reason to wake up everyday.
"I'll talk to him," Chris said.
"I don't think any kind of talking will help, Chris," Nathan said.
"If Ezra is that set on giving up, then there's nothing any of us can do, but until there is no turning back, we have to find a way to make him believe he does have something to live for."
Buck understood, having gone through Chris's private hell along with him. If anyone could make Ezra see that life was better than dying, Chris could.
Everyone had left except for Chris. He went into the room and sat down in a nearby chair. After a few minutes, Ezra awoke with a moan. He looked around and spied Chris sitting next to the bed.
"Why, Mr. Larabee, I…I wasn't expecting to see you here…" Ezra breathed.
"Been hearing that you're not eating or drinking."
Ezra didn't answer.
"You surprise me. I never took you for a quitter," Chris said.
"There is much you don't know about me, sir, however I should think you'd be familiar with my tendency towards cowardice," Ezra said as defiantly as his weakened body would let him.
"Afraid not. You see, the Ezra I know may be many things, a cheater, a swindler, a card shark, but that's not all he is," Chris said, his expression only slightly softening. "Nathan once asked me why I asked you to join us. I told him because we might need a cheater, but you proved yourself to be more than that. I know the dark place you're in now because I've been there and I also know that I put you there."
Ezra blinked and tried to ease his breathing, but couldn't. His body shook with pain and he moaned.
"I'm afraid you are mistaken. It's the fever. It's just too strong."
"Ezra, there is nothing stronger than your will. You think because you had a moment of fear that it makes you a coward, makes you less than us, less than me?"
Ezra could only lick his lips, groaning with pain.
"A good man, a man with a will to live will always have fear. It's makes you better than me because you value life, your life, the lives of others. I've watched you and make no mistake I know the truth. It's the one con you can't pull off. You would gladly die for the right cause, the right reason, and the right person. Your only character flaw was to compare your actions against mine. I'm hardly the kind of man you should measure yourself against. I've been running away from my past, my own cowardice. I drown myself in self-pity whenever I can and welcome too easily the day when my stupidity gets me killed. But thanks to the others, to you, I gain a reason to live again every time I'm saved by one of you."
Ezra smiled tiredly at his fellow and just as reluctant lawman.
"I appreciate your candor and deference to me. I know that you are not of a mind to share secrets or lavish praise freely so I know it was difficult maybe even uncomfortable for you, but I fear that it may be too late for me."
"I don't believe that and you don't either," Chris said. "If you truly believe you have no worth to this town, to the rest of us, then let go, I have no right to stop you, but if anything I've said rings true then don't run. Stay and fight like you always have done."
Ezra listened and could only nod. He closed his eyes. Chris had to hope that he got through to him because he had spoken the truth.
Mag7Mag7Mag7
Ezra woke up, still not feeling any better, but he had been relieved to find that he was also still alive. The last thing he had remembered was a conversation with Chris about fighting to live. The thought of giving up had crossed his mind. He had wondered if he would be missed at all, but for each visitor who had come to check on him, he had learned that there would be people who would miss him, who had considered him a friend and most surprisingly who had benefited from his advice, his caring, his presence. Suddenly all he had wanted to do was live and he had hoped a will to live would be enough, that his body would obediently follow suit.
He then heard in the background what he thought was the sound of gunfire. He tried to focus so he could make sure of what he was hearing. The fever had toyed with his mind more than a few times. He then heard familiar voices among the gunfire. It was a gun battle and he knew his friends were in the midst of it. He also knew that he had to be there with them and for them. If death was inevitable, he would not let it find him just laying in wait for it to take him. If death was inevitable, he would face it fighting with his friends.
He slowly sat up and slid his body across the bed pain and dizziness assaulted every cell in his body. He saw his gun belt draped over a chair. He stood up and tested his legs. They held if trembling from lack of use. He slowly reached for his gun belt and strapped it on. He closed his eyes and wavered, but once the dizziness passed he walked towards the door. When he got outside, he heard the flurry of gunfire. He walked to the ledge and saw that the horse thieves had returned, to exact revenge, no doubt.
He pulled his gun out and checked to make sure it was fully loaded. The heat of the fever was making him feel like a walking oven, but the drive to help his friends was a lot stronger than the illness, giving him the strength to keep his body from yielding to the need to collapse.
He crouched down and surveyed where all of his friends were. He watched closely and had to choose his shots well. He never thought much of his shooting skill, but he was good enough. With the fever, he knew that he would lose consistent accuracy, but all he'd need were a few well-placed shots to help his friends. If he could keep his aim true to do that, he could then pass out.
He scanned the positions of the thieves and made his choices. He steadied his hand and took out one that was about to hit Vin. When Ezra took him out, Vin looked toward where the shot had come from and when he saw Ezra, he tipped his hat in thanks. Ezra could only nod. He then focused on another thief coming up behind Buck. Once again he focused, steadied his gun hand and took that one out too. Buck, like Vin, traced the route of the shot with his gaze and saw Ezra. He gave him an amazed smile in gratitude.
Ezra's last shot was towards a gunman who was about to shoot Chris. Again, he took careful and deliberate aim then took the shot. The gunman fell dead as well. Chris, like Vin and Buck, followed the shot and saw Ezra. He nodded his acknowledgement in his direction, but even from that distance, he could see that it had taken everything Ezra had to save him.
Ezra knew that he had expended all he had in him. He had to hope it would be good enough. His grip on his gun loosened and it dropped from his hand. He had no more strength to tap to get back to his sickbed. He watched his vision tunnel into darkness and lost consciousness. His last thought was of his friends and he had hoped that he would awaken to see them again, but he had accepted that if he didn't, he'd let death take him because he had done everything he could to help his friends. All he could hope for was that he wouldn't see any of them with him in the hereafter.
Mag7Mag7Mag7
Nathan had been the first to run up the stairs and find him. Vin was not far behind. The two of them carried Ezra back to his bed, but Nathan knew by feeling Ezra that the fever was raging inside of his body.
"Vin, Ezra's burning up. I need some water to cool him down. Can you ask the hotel if they can fill a tub with regular water?"
"I'm on it, Nathan," Vin said as he ran downstairs. He then ran into Chris.
"How's Ezra doing?" Chris asked.
"Fever's worse. Getting a tub filled with water."
"I'll help Nathan get him down there."
Vin could only nod as he ran down the stairs. Chris came in and saw Nathan wiping Ezra down with a washcloth.
"Damn fool got out of the sickbed to help us," Chris said, feeling the guilt, but a hint of pride was also threaded in his voice.
"I know. Sometimes I just don't understand the man," Nathan said, his own guilt in his voice. "He could have died out there, still might if I can't get his fever down. This was one of the few times he could have just done nothing and no one would have judged him."
Chris understood though. Ezra was just proving to him what he had told him he had already known about him, that he wasn't someone who ran, that he possessed as much courage as he gave credit to the others for having.
"He couldn't do that when he heard the gunfire. He had to help. Just proves to me that he's more than what he shows us."
Nathan nodded in understanding.
"Come on, let's return the favor and help him beat this fever."
Nathan and Chris hoisted Ezra onto their shoulders.
They placed him into the tub where he groaned and bucked, whether it was from pain or relief, no one could tell. They kept him there for a few minutes then got him dry and dressed. They had decided that Ezra might be more comfortable in his own feather bed so they had placed him there instead of back at Nathan's.
With the horse thieves either killed or jailed, the remaining six gunfighters could concentrate on their friend. Nathan had told them that Ezra's heartbeat was strong even if his breathing was still congested so there was hope for recovery. They had to hope that Ezra would find the will to fight back the fever just as he had found the will to walk from his sickbed to help them.
Vin took first watch. He looked over at Ezra and he couldn't help but be reminded of his mother. She had died of typhus after fighting valiantly. Ezra was doing the very same, fighting hard to live, but he hoped that the result wouldn't be the same. He and Ezra had bonded as Southerners, sharing similar and yet also different experiences from the war. Vin had learned things about Ezra that he had kept in confidence and which had given him a unique perspective on the gambler.
Flashback
Vin and Ezra were alone in the saloon. Everyone had gone home. Neither of them were drunk, but nor did they feel like sleeping so they sat and nursed their drinks.
"Do you ever think about it?" Vin said breaking the silence.
"Think about what, Mr. Tanner?" Ezra asked.
"The war."
Ezra paused as he toyed with his glass, his gaze staring into space.
"Not the war, but I do find myself remembering, friends, good men dying in battle and wonder why I was spared," Ezra said, his face still etched with grief at the recollection of his friends.
Vin looked at Ezra, saw the sincere pain on his face and it surprised him. He was ashamed to admit that he had never imagined Ezra in combat, that using his skills for deception he would have somehow spared himself the battlefield so to hear him say that he had watched friends die in the war had surprised him. Ezra caught it then smirked.
"I am many things, Mr. Tanner, branded a coward under many a situation, perhaps even in your eyes right at this moment and deservedly so, but a deserter is not one of them. I had truly believed in the cause that had brought the taint of death upon my friends..."
He took in a breath and flipped his empty glass over onto the table, a gesture of surrender or closure.
"It took their senseless deaths to finally question those beliefs and now, having served with better men such as yourself and especially Mr. Jackson, who has tolerated my bigotry with nothing less than grace, I feel utter shame for having harbored those beliefs at all."
Vin listened with compassion and came away with respect.
"You weren't alone in being misguided by those beliefs. Make no mistake, you are not a coward, not by any standards that I value," Vin said with sincerity.
"Why I thank you, Mr. Tanner. You do me honor by allowing me to defend this town by your side."
"You can't die on me, pard. Us Southern boys we don't give up," Vin said as he watched Ezra sleep with laborious breathing. "We stick together. You can't just save my life and walk away. You need to stack the deck in your favor like you always do."
Buck then walked in to take the next watch over Ezra.
"How is he?" Buck asked.
"Alive, but I'm not so sure it's a good thing to be. He's suffering something fierce," Vin said sadly.
"Hell, Ezra is slipperier than a sidewinder. He'll make death fold, tail tucked between its legs, I guarantee it."
Vin smiled at Buck's analogy.
"I hope you're right."
"I know I am, now, get some sleep. I'll take over now."
Vin yawned and nodded. He got up from the chair.
"Sick as he was he saved my life," Vin said.
"He saved all our lives. Just when you think you have the man figured out, think he's in it for himself, he goes and surprises you."
Vin could only nod again and walk away. Tired as he was, he didn't think he would sleep until Ezra woke up again. Just as he left, he saw Chris come in.
"How's he doing?"
"Not good. What are you doing here? Buck's taking next watch."
"Couldn't sleep," Chris simply said.
"Yeh, neither can I," Vin said.
"Well, then, I guess that makes three of us," Buck chimed in.
"Might as well just stay up together," Chris said matter of factly.
They all found a place to sit and just kept their thoughts to themselves.
A few hours had passed and most of the men had fallen asleep, except for Buck.
Just before the firefight, Inez had told him that her heart and affections had belonged to Ezra and though it had hurt his pride a little, he could hold no grudge and believed that Ezra was the better man. Buck had learned of the gesture he had made towards Li Pong as well as how he had treated Casey and having a unique perspective on women, he understood and admired Ezra's respect for women despite his upbringing by Maude.
Buck's mother, though a prostitute, had been a saint and had raised him with a kind hand. Watching Maude tear down Ezra and knowing she had trained her son to become the adept swindler and poker player he was, Buck had been amazed at how genuinely affected Ezra had acted towards a woman's plight from Li Pong to Casey to the death of Claire, the preacher's daughter where he had respectfully carried her body to the undertaker. He was definitely more than who he had projected.
Buck then began to hear moaning and he turned his attentions towards Ezra. He was tossing and turning, at first it was very subtle, not unlike a restless sleep, but then the moans turned into a one-sided conversation.
"Don't leave me, please!" Ezra moaned.
Buck realized that Ezra was suffering a delirium from the fever. He moved closer as the others all started to wake one by one.
"What's wrong?" Vin asked, the first to come to coherence.
"Ezra's suffering some kind of delirium from the fever," Buck said.
"I'll go get Nathan," Vin said as he climbed out of his chair.
Chris was now awake. Both he and Buck approached closer to Ezra in case the delirium got worse and they needed to wake Ezra or be there to restrain him from hurting himself.
Ezra's breathing became erratic.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…I know, I'm a disappointment, a failure, but please don't leave me!"
Buck and Chris felt sympathy for the pain in Ezra's voice, had assumed it must have been a childhood memory and that Maude was the subject of his pleads.
"Father, father, please, please don't leave us."
Buck and Chris were taken aback. Ezra had never once mentioned his father and now they understood why. He had abandoned Maude and young Ezra. Though they both could understand why he would have left Maude, the revelation that Ezra had been left without a father figure in his life made him all the more sympathetic to them both.
Ezra then began to openly sob and the hardened gunmen were moved to see a hidden side of Ezra. He had done a good job of concealing his past and its influence on him. Suddenly, Ezra's breathing worsened and it was Buck who had reached out to try to calm him.
"Easy there, Ezra, you're all right. You're among friends here. Wake up."
Ezra jerked awake and though he was deeply confused for a minute, his eyes cleared and he recognized his fellow lawmen.
"Mr. Wilmington? Mr. Larrabee?" Ezra said, his breathing easing.
"Yeh, Ezra, you're all right. You were having a wicked delusion. We had to snap you out of it," Buck reassured.
"I…I'm sorry. I hope I didn't embarrass you," Ezra said, worry etched on his face about what he might have revealed.
"No, you were mumbling. We couldn't really tell what you were saying, but it must have been bad because you were having trouble breathing so we had to wake you," Chris said, Buck understanding and taking his lead.
"Oh…why, thank you…I'm sorry I troubled you," Ezra said as he laid back down in what he had realized was his own featherbed.
"Oh, that's right. Your fever was raging after you saved our butts so we had to cool you down. We then decided to put you into your own bed, figured you'd be more comfortable," Buck explained.
Ezra nodded and blinked, foggy memories started filtering back.
"Yeh and what were you thinking exactly? Going out there with the fever. You could have been killed getting out of your sick bed like that," Buck scolded in that caring tone he often took with JD.
"I…I couldn't stand by and let all of you face those thieves alone. I may not have been much help in my compromised condition, but I had to try."
"Not much help? Did you hear what I just said? You saved our butts, Ezra," Buck complimented.
Ezra trembled with chills and closed his eyes in pain.
"I…I'm glad that the results were in your favor, Mr. Wilmington. To be honest, I wasn't sure I was going to hit the targets I had intended."
Chris and Buck exchanged sympathetic looks.
"Well, I, for one, am grateful. You saved all of us out there," Buck admitted with sincerity.
"I'm with Buck. We owe you our lives," Chris agreed.
Ezra turned and smiled.
"I owe you much more than I can ever repay, for enduring my presence…believe me, it was a small gesture at best."
"Now, why do you gotta go and belittle your worth to this town, to us? Ezra, sometimes, I just want to slap you upside the head like I do JD. You don't have to prove yourself anymore. You staying with us to defend the law around here, you've more than proven that you wouldn't let us down," Buck emphasized.
Chris watched him and smiled. Buck had a way of making someone feel important without saying it outright with flowery speech. He'd make it sound like a scolding, but you'd know that between the lines, he was telling you that he cared.
"I told him that myself," Chris chimed in.
Ezra looked at his friends and found himself smiling. The aching loneliness that was always just under the surface, was gone and for every reassurance that had been offered to him by each person, he felt acceptance for who he was, gambler and conman, but also lawman and friend.
"I thank you both. I can't guarantee that this fever will help me remember your words of confidence, but I promise you that nothing could change my commitment."
Nathan then arrived with Vin.
"How you feeling Ezra?"
Ezra looked around the room at his friends and felt better in his soul if not in his body then suddenly he arched back in the bed, pain wringing his body into knots then violent shivering rocked him. The last thought he had before he passed out was how he had never been so at peace at dying.
"What's wrong?" Chris said, his voice as close to panic as he had ever got.
"It's the fever. Get me more blankets!"
The men complied and then could only step back and watch helplessly. All of them had witnessed death and death throes and all hoped they weren't seeing it happening to their good friend.
"What's happening, Nathan?" Chris asked.
"Don't know yet. Could be one of two things. That the fever is starting to break or…"
Nathan didn't need to finish the sentence and in all honesty, none of them wanted him to.
"We'll just have to wait and see. It's up to Ezra now. It's up to his will to live."
They all nodded and sat back down into their chairs. No one was leaving until Ezra came out of it one way or another.
Mag7Mag7Mag7
Ezra finally calmed, his body cooling, and when Nathan listened to his heart, it was still beating strong. Ezra's breathing slowly began to even out and there was cause for relief. The worst of it had passed, now it was up to Ezra to claw his way back out of the darkness back to them.
Ezra no longer sounded as if he was struggling. It had seemed that peaceful sleep had finally settled into his exhausted body. Everyone continued to visit so that Ezra wouldn't wake up alone.
Buck and Chris had told the others about Ezra's delusion and had held them to secrecy. They thought about keeping it private, but they felt it was important that the rest of his friends knew. Maude's influence was only one part of the puzzle. Ezra's father abandoning him that was yet another and could explain Ezra's need to be a part of their group, to be so belittling of his contribution to a cadre of men he clearly respected and didn't want to disappoint. He was always afraid that they would leave him as his father had. They had all agreed that given that new knowledge, they had to change their view of Ezra, see him beyond the shortcomings of his mother's teachings and into the conscience that drives him to secure justice and safety for the innocent along with them.
After a few days, Ezra had emerged from his sleep, still feeling weak, but no longer besieged with fever and chills. He saw all of the gentlemen he could feel comfortable in calling his friends around him.
"Good to have you back, brother," Josiah said.
"I have to admit that, I, too am glad to be among the living once again," Ezra said with a weak smile.
"We have a surprise visitor for you," Buck said.
"And who might that be?"
Emerging between Vin and JD was little Lillith.
"Why, Miss Lillith, how good of you to visit!"
"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner, but everyone told me I had to wait until you were better first."
"Of course, my sweet darling girl, I wouldn't want you to relapse on my account. Fret not though for I am on the road to recovery at last."
Lillith's smile beamed and practically lit up the room. All the men watched in delight and amazement at Ezra's talent for bringing a smile to the little girl's face.
"I'm glad you're feeling better," she said shyly.
"As am I," Ezra said and then he looked over to his desk and an idea came to him.
"Mr. Tanner, would you be so kind as to hand me my deck of cards there?"
Vin gladly did.
"I think Lillith here has gone much too long without a trick from me," he said. "Come sit by me, young lady."
Lillith practically leaped onto the bed as Ezra then deftly manipulated the cards as if he had never been ill. Though the movements caused some pain, soreness from lack of activity, he continued on and Lillith's laughter was a balm to him, the best medicine ever second only to the companionship of his fellow lawmen and friends.
The six men watched with genuine relief that their friend was going to recover fully. Each of them had realized that their world in Four Corners would have been desolation if they had lost one of their own.
Their bond of friendship had developed far beyond just being each other's defense against all who would terrorize the town. It had been one that would last until death parted them and as inevitable as that fate someday would be, none of them wanted it to happen on their watch.
FIN. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it.