Ezra rode back into town in the late afternoon, wishing he had elected to stop a little more often along the way. He was tired after such a long ride, and Chaucer was letting his displeasure with the efforts of the day be known as well. Rarely did the animal act quite so temperamentally when Ezra was the writer.
"Steady old friend. I shall ensure you have a full rubdown and the treat of Tiny's special mash as reward for your exertion." A toss of the head and whinny was the reply. "Yes, of course. Peppermints too." Chaucer settled, and they made their way towards the livery.
Ezra tipped his hat to two ladies leaving Mrs. Potter's store. They barely acknowledged his existence, leading him to wonder once again why he had bothered to return to the hobbled together collection of buildings they called a town.
Four Corners would barely qualify for the designation. A saloon, a Mercantile, a few small businesses, and a bank that seemed to attract every would-be thief in this and most neighbouring territories. It was generally hardly worth the effort. There were times Ezra had more money hidden in his boot than the bank held in its vault.
Still, even in the barely 3 months he'd been here, he could see growth happening in the town, A few new buildings were under construction, not to mention the church at the north edge of town that Josiah was perpetually working on.
If he was going to get at all introspective about matters, he would have to acknowledge seeing some growth in himself during that time as well. For the first time in longer than he cared to recall, he felt he had found some place he could see himself staying in for longer that just a matter of days. He didn't think he could name too many places that he'd been in for as long as three months, at least not voluntarily. The fact that he wasn't looking for the first opportunity to pack his bags and disappear came as quite a surprise to him. The notion of a home was something he rarely allowed himself to consider.
"Good afternoon Mr. Standish. Lovely day for a ride." Mrs. Potter's voice startled him back from his contemplations.
"Yes. I would suppose if one has to be in the saddle all day, at least today presented the optimum conditions. I trust you have had a fine and prosperous day yourself?"
"Not so sure I'd call it prosperous, but still a good day. Those items you ordered came in with today's supplies. I haven't got everything sorted out yet."
Ezra rode closer to discourage eavesdroppers. "There is no dire haste Madam. Nothing there that cannot keep for a few days."
"Not even all these treats?" She handed him a good-sized bag as she smiled at him. "Surely not even your special horse can go through that much peppermint candy?"
"My dear woman," Ezra turned up the charm, "why would you presume he is to be the only beneficiary?" He tipped his hat and rode ahead, leaving her smiling after him.
She stepped back inside, closing the door for the day. Moving behind the counter, she began sorting through a few more of the crates that had been delivered to her, hoping to quickly find Mr. Standish's order. She knew what most people in town thought of him. Of all of the gunmen in their town. And she couldn't entirely disagree with the assessments.
Yes, Mr. Wilmington could be a little – oh, what was the word Mr. Standish had used – boisterous. Yet he had always been courteous toward her. And Mr. Larabee was intimidating at the best of times, but again, always polite in her presence. And the gambler? Only a fool would argue that he was a man above reproach. She had heard stories of his questionable past. Heard stories of his gambling prowess, of his cheating, and dishonesty. She'd also seen him, seen all of them, risk their lives to try to bring some semblance of law and order. There was a long way to go, but things were looking better, and if these men were doing that they were more than welcome in her town, and in her shop. She watched Ezra dismount. "Besides," she spoke aloud even though she was alone, "the children all seem to like him, and it's pretty hard to fool them."
Ezra glanced around the livery and quickly determined that all the rest of the team was in town. Most likely, at the saloon enjoying what passed for dining in this community. He paused, wistfully recalling dinner at Chez Roberto's in New Orleans and evenings at the Royal Garden in Atlanta. His sigh was heartfelt as he realized he would likely be having day-old bread and two-day old stew for dinner tonight.
After providing an appropriately grateful Chaucer with his promised rewards, Ezra took a moment to wash up before making his way to join the others. He took his time on the walk over, reviewing quickly his last interactions with each man, ensuring he was prepared for whatever greeting might await him. Preparation was always essential in reducing confrontation. By the time he'd reach the doors and could hear the din from inside, he had come to the optimistic conclusion that there would be no unpleasantness tonight.
The quietness of the table in the corner immediately made him second think that conclusion. Clearly, something was wrong. The fact that all of the others where there silenced any concerns about their welfare, but Ezra still had an anxious nervousness as he approached the table.
Chris looked up and the quick look crossed his face could only be read as displeasure at Ezra's approach. It wasn't enough to turn him away, but he did decide to remain standing until he had better idea of what was wrong, and how much of it was his fault. The voices were quiet, and he had to lean in closely to hear.
"I'm sure you've been doing everything you can Nathan." Josiah was trying to encourage the young healer.
"Well clearly it isn't enough."
"These things happen. It's not the first community to have an epidemic run through, and likely won't be the last." Ezra cringed inwardly at Buck's words. Epidemic. He'd seen neighbourhoods shut down by that word. Communities disappear. He remained silent as the others continued.
"But you've got a handle on it. Nobody new sick for a couple of days you said."
"Yeah JD." Nathan sighed with exhaustion. "It looks like the worst may be over."
"No doubt due to your excellent intervention." Ezra hoped he had judged correctly that it was safe to speak. "And it would appear you have succeeded in keeping this contagion from reaching our community." He had intended it as praise, but it came out sounding more like a question.
"Yes Standish," Chris replied before Nathan could speak. "You're perfectly safe here. Don't have to worry about catching so much as a cold."
"Yeah," Buck added, equally frustrated. "And it was just the folks up in the Seminole village, so they weren't important to you anyway."
"I merely intended to indicate it was to his credit that this situation did not worsen, or become even more devastating."
"Devastating enough for the folks who lost someone." Chris could feel the cold clench of grief as he spoke.
"There were lives lost then?"
"Yeah Ezra. Folks died." Vin looked up at him, trying to read how Ezra was taking all of this. "Two of the elders. Dayni lost her baby. Child was only 10 weeks old." Ezra's practised mastering of a neutral expression served him well. He couldn't imagine losing a baby like that, and he knew the respect the village had for the elders would make such a loss deeply felt.
"We lost Hachi last night," Nathan added.
"Aww shit." "Not the kid." "Damn shame." "Rest his soul." The men commented on the loss of such a vibrant young life. Ezra said nothing, but could feel his hands tighten as he gripped the chair he'd been leaning on, fighting to remain upright. Hachi. He could see him clearly, looking eager and excited by everything around him. 'A brave warrior'. That's what Ezra had called him, echoing the boy's seriously misguided interpretation of the gambler's actions. He was a wondrous child, oblivious to the hardships of his life, wanting only to soak up every adventure in every experience he could. He'd taken to the cards as if he had been born with a deck in his hand. His face was still far too expressive to be a good gambler, and Ezra had doubted he would ever outgrow such enthusiasm. Now, he would never have that chance.
He realized the others were watching him, disbelief on their faces.
"Ain't you got anything to say Standish?" Buck growled softly.
"Yeah Ezra. You do remember Hachi, right? Hell, he was practically glued to your side the whole time we were at the village." Nathan was more than angry that Ezra seem to have forgotten the experience. Hachi hadn't. He'd asked if Ezra was going to come to visit every time Nathan showed up. He'd made excuses, offered fabricated reasons, hoping the boy would lose interest. Ezra was decidedly not the role model the fatherless boy needed. But the hope never faded. Even as he lay ill, weakening quickly, he asked after the gambler.
Nathan lied to him, knowing there was no reason not to. Ezra couldn't come. He was working on a special job, chasing some very bad men. He'd come and see Hachi as soon as he could. The boy died believing his hero cared about him. Nathan only wished that had been true.
"Nobody in that village matters to him. There or anywhere else. Ain't that right Standish?" Chris's anger at a situation he couldn't do anything about was growing, and Ezra was an extremely convenient target. "If it doesn't affect Ezra P. Standish then it ain't worth worrying about. Right?"
Ezra said nothing. He feared his voice would give him away if he spoke. He wanted nothing more than to get clear of this. All of this. The grief, the pain, the loss. Those were emotions he simply refused to acknowledge, but right here, right now, they were threatening him.
"Can't quite believe you Ezra. I thought you liked Hachi. He sure seemed to think a lot of you."
"Don't kid yourself JD. There's only one person that Ezra Standish cares about. Ever has cared about."
"Shut up Mr. Larabee." Ezra spoke softly, but with a hard tone.
"What did you say to me?"
"You heard me."
He turned to walk away. Chris grabbed his arm and spun him back, using every ounce of his control to keep himself from decking the gambler. "No, I don't think I did. Care to repeat it?"
"Very well. I said shut up." Chris did pull back his fist, but Vin grabbed it to stop the fight before it started. He settled for grabbing Ezra's lapels and shoving him back.
Josiah grabbed him before he could stumble, and was far from gentle himself. "You really stupid enough to rile him at a time like this? Stupid enough to not recognize grief when you see it?"
Ezra spun and stared at him, and Josiah stepped back in shock at the look on his face. "Apparently, I would not be alone in that ignorance." He turned to face the group. "Do you truly believe you are the only ones who can feel sorrow? Who can feel loss? The only ones to grieve? Forgive me if I choose not to put my emotions on display for all to gawk at." He turned his focus to Chris. "Are you that self-absorbed that you can genuinely believe you are the only person who is ever lost someone you love? With the blame falling squarely on your own shoulders?"
Ezra turned to leave and found himself blocked by a very angry Buck. "You can't talk to him like that." He grabbed Ezra by the jacket, lifting him off the ground. Ezra resigned himself to the hit that was about to come when he heard a surprisingly subdued "Stop" from Chris. Buck released Ezra roughly, causing him to stumble back almost falling over a chair. He tried to push past them, to make his way out, but Chris blocked his effort.
"Who Ezra?" Chris asked him quietly. Ezra stared for close to a minute, fighting the instinct he had to lie, to run, to simply disappear.
"My brother," he finally whispered, dropping back into the seat. "I killed my baby brother."
7-7-7-7-7-7-7
Josiah walked Ezra over to the jail house, with Nathan following just a few steps behind watching closely to be sure the gambler didn't collapse on them. He'd rarely seen anyone drained of energy and vitality that quickly before. When they walked into the jail, Ezra turned toward the first cell and opened the door.
"What the hell do you think you doing Ez?" Josiah asked with no rancour.
"I believe it is customary for the prisoner to be placed in a cell, is it not? That is the purpose of incarceration."
"Nobody's under arrest." Nathan shook his head with disbelief. "We just brought you over here for a bit of privacy is all."
"I believe I just confessed to killing –" he hesitated – "someone."
"Ezra, I will admit that I can easily believe a great many things about you, and very few of them are favourable. But I do not believe for a minute that you would've killed anyone in cold blood. Least of all your kin."
"You would be wrong Mr. Jackson. I have the blood of a number of men on my hands."
"From the war? In self defence? Defending others, like at the village? Those don't count Ezra."
"Elijah counted." His voice was flat.
"That's your brother then?" Josiah asked. When Ezra nodded, he continued. "Your mother clearly had a preference for Biblical names. Devout woman, is she?"
Ezra's bark of laughter startled both men. "Hardly. Appearances, however, being of the highest importance, names were chosen to inspire trust in others."
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the remaining members of the group. Vin noticed the open cell door, so moved in quickly to stretch himself out on the bed, instantly guessing Ezra had been intending to move in. Chris perched on the edge of the desk, and Josiah took the other corner. Buck grabbed the chair from behind the desk, placing it firmly behind Ezra and sliding it forward, basically forcing him to sit. He then pulled over a small stool to perch on himself. Left with no other options, Nathan settled for leaning back against the wall, while JD chose to simply drop to the floor. Buck handed Chris the bottle he'd been carrying and watched as it was emptied into the seven glasses Chris had borrowed. He held the final one in front of Ezra, who merely shook his head.
"I know it's not your preferred brand Standish, but you look like you need it." He shook his head again, so Chris placed the glass on the desk. "You want to explain what you said Ezra?"
"No."
"Okay. Let me rephrase that. Explain what you said Standish."
Ezra showed no willingness to reply, so Josiah went for a less hard-ass approach. "We know you can't have meant that Ezra. Why don't you tell us what happened?"
He sighed, realizing there was no way out. He doubted he could pull off a lie, given how tired and overwhelmed he suddenly felt. The sooner this was over the sooner he could pack up and leave town. He couldn't believe it had only been an hour ago he was feeling like he might actually settle down here.
"My brother died because of my stupidity and my negligence. There is really little else to say."
"Well that's quite a step away from the notion that you killed him," Vin drawled. "Just when did this happen?"
Ezra gazed off for a moment. "It would be close to 20 years ago," he noted with some surprise to his voice.
"20 years? Good God Ezra. What were you? About eight years old?" Chris sat in stunned disbelief.
"Yes. Elijah was five, just turned." Chris went to speak again, but Josiah silenced him with a hand on his arm. They waited patiently for Ezra to fill the silence.
"We were in a small town. Not even a town. By comparison, Four Corners would be St. Louis. Mother was, not surprisingly, trying to raise funds. She had some sort of business arrangement she was ready to close. However, it required she go ahead to a larger community where she would be able to locate a bank. Knowing the presence of young children might not reflect well on her plans, she elected to leave us behind." He paused, although he didn't seem to notice the growls and soft curses that came from most of the men. JD took advantage of the moment.
"She left you with your pa then?"
Ezra gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. "That would have required who being cognizant of his whereabouts. As he had departed almost immediately on being informed he was going to be a father for a second time, the option was not available."
"Bastard," Chris mumbled. Ezra assumed that, for a change, the curse was not intended for him.
"She left us with the woman who ran the boarding house. Not exactly fond of children, however financial remuneration proved to be sufficient incentive. We were told to stay in the room, and under no circumstances were we to cause any disturbance or bother."
"And you were in charge of keeping a five-year-old quiet?" Buck couldn't help smile at the notion. "Bet that was a challenge."
"Not especially. Elijah was a quiet child to begin with. Never the strongest of boys, he preferred hearing a good story, or otherwise entertaining himself. I read to him. I could do that for hours on end, he was so enthralled by the adventures of Robinson Crusoe or the Count of Monte Cristo." He seemed lost in the memory. "If there was no book at hand, I would endeavor to create adventures."
"Bet you a real good at it." Ezra looked at JD, surprised by the sincerity of the comment.
"It was a gift that came easily to me. He would also watch me play with the cards. His hands were still too small to handle a deck, but he loved to watch my tricks. He hoped to learn. Repeatedly told me he would master even fancier ones when he got a little older." Ezra's voice cracked, and he quickly coughed to clear his throat. Chris handed him the drink again, and this time he accepted, taking only a small sip. He took a deep breath and continued.
"On the third day, Elijah was unwilling to get out of bed. He indicated he was still tired, and that his stomach hurt. I thought little of it. He was prone to fatigue and as I indicated, not a particularly active child. As the day were on he complained more of discomfort. Remembering mother's admonition that we were to be in as in obtrusive as possible, Elijah begged me not to notify our watcher, even though the pains seemed to be quite sharp at times. I foolishly agreed." Ezra went quiet again. He hadn't shared this story in years. He had never fully shared the details even with his mother. Now, the willingness to be telling it to these men who seemed so quick to judge him was puzzling to him.
They waited quietly for him to continue. After a few moments of silence, Vin sat up. "Ezra? You okay to keep going? You don't have to." JD and Buck both glared at him for a minute, angry that he would let Ezra off the hook like that. Looking back at the pain that was so surprisingly evident, they quickly came around.
Ezra refused the offer by returning to the story. "By late evening it was evident even to me that Elijah was ill. Very ill. I went down to inform Mrs. Crawley, and she was not pleased to see me or hear my tail. She demanded I returned to my room and stay there. She accused me of trying to ruin her business, destroy her boarding house by inferring that Elijah was ill due to her meals." Ezra got a slight look of panic in his eyes as he vividly recalled the moment. "It was not my intention. I would not have done such a thing. I was only trying to impress on her the seriousness of the situation. The fact he had been ill, been vomiting. It was not meant to slander."
"Of course it wasn't Ezra. We get that." Josiah tried to keep his tone soothing to calm the man. Given the rage he was feeling, it was a challenge. The woman deserved to have her business ruined, her life ruined, for what she had put the two boys through.
Ezra gathered himself, brought back to the reality of the present by Josiah's voice. "I went back upstairs to sit with him. I didn't know what else to do. I climbed into the bed beside him and tried to calm him. He was so scared. He was burning up, and in so much pain. I try to make it better. I talked to him and told him stories, but he wouldn't stop crying." Ezra was starting to have trouble breathing. He couldn't slow himself down, rushing to get the words out to get the story done. Nathan pushed away from the wall and moved next to him.
"Ezra, slow down. Stop talking and just breathe. Buck get him something to drink." He handed over the whiskey. "No – water. Last thing he needs is liquor."
"No Mr. Jackson. I'm sorry. I'm fine."
"You're not fine Ezra. And don't you dare apologize. You just sit back and catch your breath. You don't have to finish this now."
"Yes – I do. If I don't now, I never will." He took the glass of water Buck had retrieved with a whispered "Thank you" and sipped slowly.
"Elijah cried for several hours," he resumed the story, eyes staring down at the floor. "I tried to cool him, to calm him. Nothing worked. He couldn't get settled. Couldn't get comfortable. Everything hurt him. Finally, after hours – I cannot say how many – he fell asleep. I remember washing him, trying to keep him cool. He whimpered softly from time to time, but did not react beyond that. Eventually, I curled up beside him, pulling him as close as I could." Ezra stopped talking, standing slowly and walking to the desk. He put the glass down and continued on his path, stopping in front of the second jail cell door for a moment, before stepping inside.
"When I awoke in the morning, he was dead." He reached out and closed the cell door.
There were several moments of silence as they all digested the story. JD fought to keep from crying, unwilling to show what he saw as weakness in front of the others. He was relieved beyond his imagination to look up and see the tears on Vin's cheeks, and to see Chris wiping a hand across his own face. He even saw Buck slipping his bandanna back into a pocket.
Nathan moved to reopen the cell door. "Don't be an idiot Ezra. No way in hell do you belong in there." Ezra just sat heavily down on the bunk, unwilling or unable to move.
He spoke unexpectedly. "Mr. Crawley came upstairs after I told him. He came and took Elijah down to the doctor. Later I heard them telling folks Elijah had fallen from a tree while he played. Broken his neck. They had to pay the doctor to say that, and mother had to pay them back. She was quite furious about that turn of events. When she told them she wouldn't, they said she would be arrested for abandoning her children, so she paid. I have rarely seen her so mad at me. At my stupidity and my carelessness in letting him die."
"She said that to you?" Chris couldn't contain the anger. "She said that to an eight-year-old child?" Chris stormed over to Ezra, fighting the desire to shake some sense into him. He forced himself to calm down before squatting in front of the now trembling man, putting his hand over Ezra's. "She had no call to say that. No right to. Ezra, you were a child. You understand that, don't you? You were just a little boy."
"He was my responsibility, and I failed him."
Chris was beginning to understand things a little better. The hesitation, the reluctance to take responsibility. It all made more sense now. What kind of person dumps that on an eight-year-old kid? What kind of mother does that? All that cockiness, all that bravado, was hiding the heart of a child who still believed he had failed in the most horrible way possible. Chris made up his mind in that instant that somehow the woman was going to pay for this.
"You didn't fail him Ezra. Your mother did. The Crawley's did. You didn't. The blame isn't yours." Ezra just shook his head at Chris's words. Nathan sat down on the bunk.
"Look at me Ezra. Chris is wrong." Chris stared in disbelief. He knew Nathan had some issues with Ezra, but couldn't believe he deliberately would let the man continue living with this guilt. He was ready to rip into him when Nathan's look made him stop. The healer's eyes were full of compassion and concern as he continued speaking. "As much as all of the adults messed this up, it likely wasn't their fault either. I don't know if this will help, but from what you said, what you described, I don't think anyone could've saved Elijah."
Ezra looked up at him with undisguised disbelief. "I should have," he repeated almost by habit.
"No Ezra. There's a part of the body called the appendix. Have you ever heard of it?" Ezra shook his head, as did the others. "Yeah, not most have. From what I heard about during the war, even the doctors aren't really sure about what it does. Sometimes, and nobody seems to know why, it stops working right. People get sick when that happens, and it sounds a lot like what you said happened to Elijah. Once they get sick like that, well the details don't matter. Point is, there's nothing anybody can do."
"No. I should've helped him."
Dammit, Chris thought, how high did he build that wall?
"You did Ezra. You stayed with him." JD was thrilled that his voice didn't shake. "When my mom was sick, near the end, she told me lots of times that having somebody with her made things easier. Not so scary. Said it was the best way someone could show they love someone, being with them when they need it most."
"Thank you, Mr. Dunne. It truly means a great deal to me that you would share that."
Chris tried again. "Ezra, you don't have any blame in this. You understand that now?" When Ezra still did not answer Chris, he all but threw his hands up in the air in frustration.
"I guess then," Vin asked, "that you blame Nathan for what happened to Hachi and the others out of the village?"
"Of course not. That would be patently ridiculous."
"He's a healer. It's his role to take care of others, just like it was yours to take care of Elijah. It's no different."
"I am certain Mr. Jackson did everything humanly possible to save those unfortunate souls Mr. Tanner. Surely you cannot believe it was his fault that an illness he could not control –" Ezra stopped. "He could not control."
"No more than you could Ezra," Nathan added. "Much as we'd like to think we can handle anything, sometimes there's just nothing anyone can do."
"Their death, Hachi's death, none of that is your fault Mr. Jackson."
"And Elijah's death isn't yours." Chris was grateful to see a small nod. He slowly rose from his spot in front of Ezra. "Hachi remind you of your brother?"
"In many ways." It was good to see a hint of a smile in Ezra's face again. "He had much more energy and was far more active, and of course was older. But there was a quality. A spirit. A curiosity to him that mirrored so strongly my recollections of Elijah. I believe the two youngsters were kindred souls."
Chris looked at Nathan, concerned as he noted Ezra's slightly slurring speech and drawn appearance. Nathan smiled reassuringly.
"Ezra, I think you want to lie down here for a couple of minutes."
"No, thank you Mr. Jackson. I am fine." He spoke while not resisting the gentle repositioning that had him stretched out on the bunk before he'd ended the sentence. Chris handed Nathan a blanket while Vin passed over the extra pillow. Ezra pulled it away from under his head and clutched it to himself instead. "Really, my own featherbed is far more suitable."
"Yeah, we know Ezra." Buck grinned at the predictability of the complaint. "We'll get you over there in a couple of minutes." They all quietly moved out the door, as Ezra drifted off. No one spoke until the door was closed and they had moved several feet away.
"He okay Nathan?"
"That was a lot of weight on him Chris. Process just exhausted him. Could sleep for an hour, or a week."
"So, he's back to normal." JD joked weakly.
"I sure as hell hope that woman never comes to visit him. Hate to have to shoot her in front of him."
"Nobody is shooting anybody Buck. That's not to say we can't give her a piece of our mind." Chris cautioned.
"No, we won't be doing that either." Josiah surprised them all. "It would only come back on Ezra, and he doesn't need that. What we can do is make sure she doesn't ever mess with him like that again. Explains a lot though, doesn't it?" Chris looked at Josiah, waiting for the explanation. "Haven't you ever wonder why someone like him, like the him we're supposed to see, would enjoy spending so much time with kids?"
Nathan nodded at the observation. "He gets to feel like he did with Elijah. No doubting that they must have been real close."
"Sounds like all they really had was each other," Vin agreed. "Guess it helps explain the featherbed too."
"Well, no denying the man loves his comfort." Buck didn't see what Vin was getting at.
"Elijah couldn't get comfortable. Said the bed hurt him."
"So now Ezra values the comfort that much more." Buck finally caught on.
"Yeah, and did you see what he did with that pillow? Holding it like that, like he was holding on to his brother again."
Chris hadn't thought of it that way, but now figured JD was right. He shook his head, looking back at the jail. "Never occurred to me the man could be hiding that much pain."
"Because you never wanted you to think it, to see it. I'm guessing he's gotten real good at hiding a lot of things," Vin offered.
Nathan smiled. "Well, guess that's another is bad habits were going to have to break him of."
7-7-7-7-7-7-7
"Can't say how much sleep he got, but Josiah said he saw him head back to his room around midnight." Chris was walking with Nathan toward the livery, helping him carry the supplies for the village.
"Yeah. I noticed light coming from his room when I got up. Hoping he fell asleep at the lamplight still on. Don't rouse him Chris. Just let him wake up on his own."
"Buck already told me that. He's covering Ezra's patrol today."
"Good. We got to be careful though. He's going to feel uncomfortable about sharing all that. We got a be careful not to treat him different. Not to pamper him too much."
Chris grinned. "Think I can handle that."
They both stopped short at the site in front of them in the livery. Ezra was next to Chaucer, finalizing his check of the tack, and of his supplies. "Good morning gentlemen."
"Ezra, what do you think you doing?" Nathan demanded.
"You don't have patrol this morning, and Buck will cover for you later." Chris couldn't figure out why Ezra was there either.
"Excellent. Then I shall not need to hasten my return."
"Return?" Chris's heart skipped a beat. Ezra was leaving?
"Yes Mr. Larabee. Return. As in coming back to Four Corners."
"So, where you headed then?"
Ezra looked away for a moment, and Chris was willing to bet the man was actually afraid to answer. "If Mr. Jackson has no objections, and if I am not putting anyone's health at risk, I should like to accompany him to the Seminole village."
For a second time, both men stared in confusion. "Why?" "What for?" They asked simultaneously.
"To offer what assistance I can, of course."
Chris mentally kicked himself. He wouldn't have questioned the motives of anyone else, and he had to learn to stop second-guessing Ezra.
"There's not really a lot that needs doing right now Ezra," Nathan answered him. "Worst is over. And, just so you know, there's no chance you'd be putting anybody including yourself at risk. Problem was from contaminated water, not any kind of sickness that you might catch."
"Then a new supply source is needed. Perhaps a well needs to be dug?"
Chris shook his head, both in wonder and response. He couldn't recall a time Ezra had ever volunteered for physical labour. "Already taken care of." He took a few steps towards the gambler, who was still looking ill at ease. "Ezra, you got no course to feel obligated here. None of the rest of us were out there with Nathan either. There wasn't a reason."
Ezra kept his eyes, and voice, low. "Hachi should've been all the reason I needed."
"That's on me Ezra," Nathan admitted. "I never mentioned he was asking about you, because I didn't think it mattered to you. I was wrong. Wish I could fix that."
"I gave you no reason to think otherwise, but I thank you for letting me know he hadn't forgotten about me."
"Forgotten about you? Hell, he wanted to grow up to be you." Nathan wasn't sure if that would help or hurt.
"What a tragically misguided squandering of his life that would have been."
"I don't know about that," Chris argued. "Think he could've done a lot worse." Ezra chose not to waste his energy arguing.
"Nevertheless Mr. Jackson, I would like to join you if I may. I believe it is possible the other children will need some distraction from recent events. And I do admit to having a gift for entertaining young minds."
Nathan didn't bother to keep his smile hidden. "Well that's certainly true. Yeah Ezra, I think it would be good for the kids to have someone to keep them busy." Likely pretty good for you too, but Nathan kept that thought to himself.
Smiling in return, Ezra mounted up. Chris quickly helped Nathan with the rest of the supplies. "You think he's up to this?" he asked quietly.
"Probably best thing for him."
"Mr. Jackson?" Ezra had reached into his saddle bag. "Do you foresee any issue if I were to share some of these treats with the youngsters?" He asked holding up the bag of candy.
"None at all, just don't spoil their appetites for dinner." Ezra grinned, popping a candy in his own mouth and tossing another to Chris.
"Yeah," Chris thought to himself as they rode off, "he'll be just fine."
M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7
The end