Set a week-ish after Pushing Past the Pain. Standard disclaimers: Don't own, don't profit, don't sue. No Slash. Just good old-fashioned brotherly lurve, with a heapin' helpin' of touchy feeliness and a soupçon of warm fuzzies. I have no idea who originally came up with the names for Vin and Ezra's horses, but every story seems to have them as Peso and Chaucer. They fit, so I kept them. Thanks to whoever originated them.
JD sat and worried at his lower lip with his teeth, staring at the curled figure on the bed. Ever since Chris' explosion of temper in the Saloon a week ago, Buck had fallen into the darkest mood that JD had ever seen the normally jovial man in. At first, JD and Nathan had tried to lighten their friend's mood with jokes and teasing, but when they got no response they soon stopped. At times, JD thought he'd heard quiet sobs from his brother but when he went to sit on the bed Buck always seemed to be sleeping. In fact, Buck seemed to do nothing but sleep. He only ate bites of the food presented to him and only when forced to do so, he drank sparingly, he didn't want to see any of his lady friends and he wasn't interested in leaving his room.
One by one, the others had come to visit with him but everyone found the big man asleep or pretending to be. The only one not to have seen Buck was Chris, who hadn't been able to face his old friend just yet. He and Vin had left in the early hours of the second day after the Saloon incident to collect a prisoner from Red Rock and escort him to Eagle Bend for trial, on the Judge's orders.
"Buck, you wanna get up and come down the bathhouse? A nice soak in a tub might make you feel better," suggested JD hopefully. Truthfully, the big man was getting a bit rank and it was too cold to open the window. Buck hadn't shaved or gone outside for a week, relying on JD or Nathan to make sure that the chamberpot was placed outside in the hall for the cleaning girl to take away and replace with a clean one.
Unsurprised but still disappointed by the lack of response, JD sighed heavily and announced, "Well, okay. Guess it is too cold to go and sit in the tub. I'm just gonna go down and get us something to eat, Buck. Do you want anything special?"
The blanket covered form on the bed didn't even move. Rising from the hard, straight backed chair, JD went to sit on the bed, putting his hand on Buck's shoulder and giving it a gentle shake. Still getting no response, the boy sighed again and murmured, "Guess I'll just bring back some stew for you then."
Hearing the door click shut, Buck breathed out a sob and turned his face further into the pillow. He knew that his friends meant well and were worried about him, but he wished that they'd realise that he just didn't have the energy to deal with their concern for him. His mind kept playing the night in the Saloon on repeat, interspersed with many of the other confrontations that had occurred since the night of the fire all those years ago and, no matter how hard he tried to forget, the memories wouldn't stop. With every incident magnified in his mind, he grew more and more convinced of how little Chris really thought of him and how pathetic he was for letting himself become a human punchbag for the blond. But then what else was he good for, when he didn't have any appreciable skills. He wasn't a healer like Nathan, or a tracker like Vin, or a gambler like Ezra. He was a fair hand with a gun, but hadn't the speed of Chris or JD. He couldn't work magic with wood and stone the way Josiah could, nor could he inspire the faith of others. For all his talent with the ladies, he couldn't keep one as evidenced by his failed affair with Louise.
Buck didn't want to talk to people, so he'd pleaded with JD to keep everyone away, including his fellow lawmen. Nathan couldn't be kept out due to his need to check on Buck's health, and JD wouldn't leave him for more than an hour. Vin, Josiah and Ezra had all reluctantly respected his wishes, murmuring their support into his ear and squeezing his shoulder before leaving him to JD and Nathan's tender care. Miss Molly had charmed her way past JD but despite her best efforts Buck had been unable to rise to the occasion. Tendrils of shame wove through him at the memory of the understanding in her face. He'd never experienced anything like that before and it made him feel even less like a man. Miss Molly's offer to just hold him had been gruffly rebuffed and she'd left him feeling worse than when she'd arrived.
Secretly he craved JD's presence, as the boy's endless chatter chased the darkness away a little and his devotion was a soothing balm to the tall man's shattered heart. Remembering Ezra's kindness on the night of the fight, he also harboured a small hope that the southerner would come back to visit him. As much as he loved JD, he knew the boy didn't have the experience to understand how he was currently feeling. Maybe, just maybe, the gambler would. Judging by what had happened at the Saloon, the southerner had some secrets learned from living a hard life.
Gathering the blankets closer around him, Buck sighed dolefully and waited for sleep to claim him again, wishing that he could stop seeing Chris' hate-filled face every time he closed his eyes. For all the sleeping he'd been doing, he still felt exhausted and lying here wishing for things that were out of his control wasn't helping. Sniffing, he rolled into a tighter ball as he was once again bombarded by the images of Sarah and Adam screaming at him, blaming him for keeping Chris away when they needed him most.
"Lord, JD, you look like you've lost your last dollar," exclaimed Nathan, moving up onto the porch of the boarding house on his way to check on Buck. He was worried about the man's melancholy, but it wasn't something he could cure with his herbal concoctions or a bandage. He'd seen people lapse into depressed states and never emerge, pining away until illness took them or their hearts just gave out. Of all of the six men he'd come to consider family in this town, Buck was the last one that he'd though would succumb to such a condition. Now seeing JD's long face, he knew that he would have to do something soon or the boy would follow his mentor.
"Buck's still sleeping a lot and seems real sad, Nate. Isn't there something you can give him to cheer him up some? Some tea or such? He don't even want to see Miss Molly anymore and you know how fond he is of her," mourned JD, looking at Nathan with luminous brown eyes filled with pain for his brother's suffering.
"There's a lot of tonics that are supposed to cure melancholia, JD, but most of them are just snake oil and have no affect. Some of 'em are even poisonous and some make you crave 'em so bad you'd kill your Ma to get more. I reckon what Buck needs most is his friends right now, so we just have to keep doing what we're doing and hope he snaps out of it," consoled Nathan, desperately hoping that he was right. The thought of what they might be forced to do with Buck if he didn't pull himself free of the darkness made him shudder. There were places meant to help folk whose minds had gone but, from what he'd experienced, they helped the folks' kin by shutting them away out of sight but didn't do anything for the sick themselves.
Nathan had only seen an asylum once, but it had given him nightmares for a month afterwards. It had been just after the war when he'd had to escort a patient from a hospital after he became dangerous and delusional. Poor man had been through the siege of Petersburg and was completely intact physically, but his mind was just gone, stuck in the blood and horror of war. They'd never even found out his name, since he never spoke rationally. Just sat in a corner of the room, rocking himself and humming until he'd suddenly explode into violence at a sudden noise or shadow, shouting out to and fighting men long dead.
Despite the warmth of his coat, the healer shivered as he remembered the sounds, sights and smells of the asylum. The howls, screams and whimpers of the insane; the haunted and vacant eyes set in hollowed out, scratched up faces covered with sores and bruises; bodies that were wraithlike in their emaciation and rancid with rot; and the godawful smell of gangrene, blood, urine, feces, body odour and vomit. Shaking himself vigorously and swallowing hard, Nathan turned to the curious JD and said, "We'll talk to Josiah, maybe he can talk some sense into Buck."
Forgetting about fetching food, JD trotted after Nathan towards the church, still wondering what had brought the look of horror to the taller man's face.
Josiah was peacefully sanding down pews, humming like a giant bumble bee, when the door to the church opened to admit JD and Nathan to his sanctum. Grinning widely, he boomed, "Welcome to the Lord's house and mine, brothers. What can we do for you both on this fine day?"
Nathan slumped down on the pew behind the one Josiah was working on, whilst JD flitted about the church unable to stand still. The big preacher stopped his work to view his friends' faces with concern.
"We're worried about Buck, 'Siah. He's sinking into a melancholic state and if we don't do something to snap him out of it, who knows what will become of him," answered the healer, fidgeting with a thread on his sleeve. "We thought maybe you could talk to him."
Immediately, Josiah's thoughts started racing as the implications of Nathan's words sunk in. Hannah's sweet face, first screwed up in torment as she screamed out her anguish and then later blanked out and vacant, was all he saw for a long moment. Unconsciously, he started to shake his head, mumbling, "No. No. I'm not the one to help with this. I… I…"
Abruptly, Josiah stood and strode to the door, heaving huge lungfuls of air in and out. Startled, Nathan and JD glanced at each other and then moved to stand closer to their friend. A sudden memory of a discussion about Josiah's younger sister flitted over Nathan's worried man and he groaned softly with self reproach, chided himself for his insensitivity.
Suddenly a smile lifted the corners of the preacher's mouth as a weight shifted off his shoulders and he rumbled, "My brothers, I think I see the answer to our prayers."
Nudging around the big man, JD peered out into the bright light of noon, trying to see to what Josiah was referring. Nathan looked over his older friend's shoulder, searching for the same thing. A pensive look crossed his face as he spotted the gambler emerging from the saloon, blinking and yawning delicately behind his hand. A dissatisfied look crossed the southerner's face as he tugged his coat closer against the chill breeze that raced up the street, making the three watchers smile a little. It was well known how much Ezra disliked being cold, though they had all witnessed the child-like wonder with which he viewed snow. He'd even been known to indulge in the making of snowman and vigorous snowball fights with the town children, when he thought there were no adults watching. Touching two fingers to the brim of his hat in greeting to a couple passing on the sidewalk, Ezra then stepped down into the street and made his graceful way to the livery, seemingly oblivious to his audience.
"Ezra? Of course. That man could talk a bear out of its honey, so talking some sense into Buck should be easy. Then there's his experience in the hospital and the war, so he might have seen something that could help," exclaimed Nathan, thankful that there was a glimmer of hope.
Nathan had been amazed and a bit skeptical when Josiah had related all that had been said by the squirrelly southerner in the jail. But he was a fair man and after much thought, he'd remembered times in the clinic where Ezra had helped him with the wounded and had done so without need of any instructions. At the time, Nathan had put it down to memories of when Ezra had himself been injured or from watching him tend the others, but now he realised it was from prior experience as a nurse. Feeling a little threatened and jealous, he'd been about to make a venomous remark, but then Josiah had reminded him of how reluctant the gambler was to be stuck in the clinic for long, either as a patient or a nurse. It was clear that the capricious man was perfectly willing to help out as long as he was needed, but certainly didn't want to take on the role permanently.
"Better go talk to him before he heads out on patrol," agreed JD, starting to run towards the unsuspecting man. Nathan had told him and Buck about what had been said in the jail during one of his visits to check Buck, in a failed attempt at sparking the morose man's interest, so JD just knew that the capable gambler would be able to fix things.
The hero worship that JD used to feel for Chris was now shared with the southerner, although it was a more subdued form than he'd felt for Chris as a greenhorn straight from the city. In fact, he now admired something about all his brothers. He still admired Chris for his leadership, confidence and speed with a gun; Vin for his tenacity, calmness and his tracking and sharpshooting skills; Josiah for his wisdom and the comfort of being able to discuss the religion that his mother had instilled in him with someone who was sympathetic; Nathan for his ability to rise above the circumstances of his birth and still feel compassion for others, along with his healing skills; Buck for his loyalty and love of life; and Ezra for his sharp wit, intelligence and gentlemanly ways. Feeling more optimistic than he had for a while, he practically bounded across the street.
"That boy has an obscene amount of energy," grumbled Josiah, following at a more sedate pace with Nathan, who grunted his agreement.
"EZ! EZ! Wait up!"
Gliding to a halt at the doors to the livery, Ezra raised one sculpted eyebrow in query as he drawled, "Good lord, Mr Dunne, must you be so boisterous so early in the day?"
"Early? It's lunchtime," protested the younger man indignantly.
"Precisely, and I have only just left my warm, comfortable bed in order to go riding in these frigid climes, so you understand my perturbation," stated Ezra, gliding inside the livery more in order to escape the breeze cutting through him. He was also tired and a little irritable, as he had found that he no longer slept as well without the comforting presence of the tracker in the bed with him. Knowing that their older brother would watch out for Vin's physical safety, he was worried about the younger man's nightmares and crooked back.
Before they'd left, Ezra had entrusted the freshly topped up travel sized pot of liniment to the man in black, with instructions on what to look out for and when to offer assistance. Pulling the tracker aside, he'd handed over a specially made, wide belt that he'd had the seamstress make to his specifications, that had two pockets at the back. Along with the belt, he gave Vin two large flat metal canteens and told him to fill them with hot water before corking them and sliding them into the pockets. These would provide an hour or so of therapeutic heat to the muscles on either side of the trackers lower back, when worn over the man's undershirt but underneath his shirts and coats. Vin's grin could have lit up the state and Ezra had found himself squeezed to within an inch of his life by the grateful and speechless Texan. The gambler had just chuckled and surreptitiously slipped a paperbag of hard candy into the tracker's coat, to be discovered later.
"Brother Ezra."
"Ez."
Nodding amiably to the newcomers as their greeting drew his attention back to the present, Ezra looked longingly at the saloon and wondered if it were particularly vital that someone patrol the outlying area today. It was obviously too cold for any wrongdoers to be about. If they all wanted to talk to him, they could be talking at his table at the saloon, which was situated in a position conveniently close to the stove heater.
"Ezra, when you were working in the hospitals… Did you have any experience with people having… well… emotional problems?"
Despite his best efforts, the gambler's poker face slipped to show his surprise at Nathan's question. Licking his lips nervously, he remembered that Josiah had been given permission to tell Nathan of what he'd heard in the jail a week ago. Obviously he'd taken that permission to include JD, since the boy showed no signs of curiosity in Ezra having worked in a hospital before. After agreeing to Josiah sharing his life history with Nathan, Ezra had been a little worried that the ex-slave would feel that his place as the town's healer was being usurped. The two of them had finally managed to achieve an equal friendship, if not brotherhood, and Ezra was reluctant to upset the balance. Studying the three faces in front of him, however, all he saw was varying degrees of worry.
Taking a deep breath, Ezra replied, "I worked with the poor souls who'd been injured in the late unpleasantness, gentlemen. I believe that the trauma of their experiences led to a lot of them developing some, as you say, emotional problems. Why do you ask?"
"It's Buck, Ez. He's not himself. He just lays there all day, not eating, not drinking, not talking. All he does is sleep. He don't want any lady company neither. He won't talk to me at all and I'm really worried that he's just going to … I don't know what he's going to do but it can't be good. You've got to do something, Ez. He'll listen to you, I know he will," babbled JD, stopping abruptly and fixing his glistening, anxious, wide brown eyes on the stunned southerner.
Snapping his mouth closed, after it had fallen open slightly in amazement at the Bostonian's outburst, Ezra swung his gaze to the two sensible members of the seven in the hope of clarification.
Putting a large hand on JD's shoulder to both comfort and silence the boy, Nathan explained, "I think Buck is sinking into melancholy, Ezra. We have to head it off, before he gets too deep and we can't get him out. I'd hate to see him end up in… in… well, you know."
Shuddering at his own remembrances of an asylum he'd gone to when visiting an elderly relative who'd outlived her usefulness, Ezra nodded quickly.
"Not all places are bad," whispered Josiah, his face a picture of remorse.
Moving closer to the big man, Ezra stroked a hand lightly down his arm and murmured, "'Siah?"
Painfilled blue eyes focused on emerald green ones, as Josiah reached out to Ezra, willing the younger man not to ask any questions in front of JD.
Squeezing the strongly muscled arm under his hand, Ezra nodded once and then stepped back, saying decisively, "Right, well we can't leave our brother languishing in a morass of despair, can we? How long since he ate? Bathed? Drank?"
Nathan and Josiah looked to JD, who'd been with the lanky cowboy the most.
"Uh well, I think he had some water this morning but he hasn't eaten anything since yesterday morning and that was only a couple of mouthfuls of egg. He ain't been to the bath house since last Saturday," replied the boy, trying desperately to remember correctly.
"And you say he's been sleeping a lot? Any nightmares? Has he been crying?"
"Yeah, sleeps more than he's awake but it don't seem peaceful. I sometimes think I hear him crying, but when I get up close he's just sleeping so I dunno," replied JD earnestly. "Do you think you can help him, Ez?"
Smiling kindly at the younger man, Ezra nodded and reassured him by saying, "JD, Buck has had his beliefs knocked around a bit recently which is bound to make him a bit blue. The fun-loving rogue that we all know and love is still there, but at the moment Buck doesn't have the energy to put a front on for us. I've no doubt that the man is happy most of the time, but I also think he's learned that if he wants company then he has to play the fool, regardless of how he actually feels. His self confidence will have taken a battering, along with his body and both will take time to heal."
Forehead creased with perplexion, JD asked, "So, you're saying to leave him be?"
"Yes and no," replied the gambler ambiguously as he started towards the boarding house at a brisk pace, knowing the others would follow him. "I'm saying that we shouldn't try to jolly him up and make him laugh. He doesn't want to do so and he shouldn't be forced into it. What I'm saying is that we coax him into bathing, eating and drinking as all are normal behaviours that should be adhered to regardless of our moods. We encourage him to talk about what is bothering him, rather than keeping it to himself where it will be considered and reconsidered until the matter is entirely out of proportion . We hold him when he's upset without shushing him or telling him to stop. We really listen to him, without immediately trying to convince him he's wrong as he's entitled to his opinions. Eventually, by showing him that we accept him for who he is and no matter what mood he is in, he will return to his usual state of happiness. I warn you all though, that he may try to block us, cutting himself off from our touch and voices, but we can't allow it. It will help when Chris and Vin return so that Chris and Buck can make their peace, as I believe that to be the root cause of Buck's unhappiness. He and Chris have been friends, family in fact, for so long that being on the outs with the man seriously compromises Buck's view of the world and his place in it."
Having stopped on the porch of the boarding house, Ezra took in the three anxious faces and chuckled. Squeezing the arms of JD and Nathan, he drawled, "Fear not, my friends. Just because Buck is not his happy-go-lucky self, doesn't mean that he's going to lose his mind. He just needs a little help to put things into perspective and between the four of us, I'm sure we'll manage."
With that reassurance ringing in their hearts and minds, he sent his friends in different directions. JD was sent to take the southerner's patrol and burn off some of the energy he'd amassed just sitting in Buck's room, Nathan was sent for some of Buck's favourite food and Josiah was sent to organise for hot water and the communal bathtub to be brought to Buck's room. Josh Potter, who happened to be passing, was sent to procure some lavender bathsalts and some peppermints. Then Ezra straightened his coat sleeves and marched up the stairs to Buck's room with a determined stride.
When he heard the door open, Buck assumed that it was JD returning, so the sound of a disgusted southern gentleman was a bit of a surprise.
"Good lawd, Mr Wilmington, what crawled into this room and expired?"
The next shock was the icy breeze that flowed across his face as the window was flung as far up as it would go. Rolling onto his back, Buck clutched the warm covers up to his bearded chin and stared owlishly at Ezra who was standing with his hands on his hips at the end of the bed.
Ezra's heart broke at the sight in front of him and he couldn't stop himself from moving to sit beside his friend. Reaching out to run his slender fingers through Buck's messy, greasy hair, he then ran the backs of his fingers over the tear streaked bearded cheeks and sighed, "Aw, Bucklin."
Face crumpling, Buck dissolved into tears at that expression of knowing sympathy and he clung to Ezra when he found himself scooped up into surprisingly strong arms. Nothing much had made sense to Buck for a week, but the safety and comfort he found in Ezra's embrace became his world for the foreseeable future. Despite being so much larger and taller than the southerner, he managed to compress himself and burrow into Ezra as though he were a child.
Josiah walked in with the tub and quietly left again to bring the water, smiling faintly at the supposedly insensitive and selfish gambler who was currently crooning a lullaby to a grown man. Chuckling to himself, he murmured, "Careful, son, your secret will be all over town soon and your reputation as a irresponsible, self-absorbed dandy will be in ruins."
Buck's tears were short lived but he stayed huddled against Ezra. Being brought up in a cathouse meant that he was a tactile person, needing human touch like others needed water. The feel of Ezra's hand as it rubbed circles on his undershirt clad back was soothing and he sighed heavily. The tune that the southerner was humming quietly sounded familiar, but he was too tired to search his memory for it. Hearing the door open, he was surprised to hear the slosh of water and wondered dully what had caused it. A faint noise of dismay burst from him when Ezra went to lay him back on the bed and he pressed himself further into the other's arms.
"Alright, my friend, a few more moments. But then we'll have to get you up and into the tub before all the lovely hot water that Josiah has hauled up for you becomes too cool for comfort," agreed Ezra, once more wrapping his arms around the lanky gunslinger. Looking over his shoulder, he saw both Nathan and Josiah looking at him with matching expressions of fondness. Rolling his eyes, he asked, "Nathan, could you search out Bucklin's shaving gear, please? And Josiah, could you please shut the window again, now that the room has aired sufficiently. We don't want Buck to become chilled during his ablutions."
An hour later saw Buck washed, shaved, dressed and sitting up at the table in his room with Josiah, nibbling on some of the quesadillas that Nathan had brought over from the saloon. Nathan stood at the window, alternating watching his friends with keeping an eye on the street below. All three had been watching Ezra strip and remake the bed with fresh linens in an efficient and professional manner.
Vague recollections of a conversation Nathan and JD had started to filter through Buck's mind and his eyes darkened with sorrow as he remembered Ezra's loss. Another friend who had lost his family, but Ez didn't strike out in anger the way Chris struck him. Pushing his plate away, he let his head drop to where his hands were clasped in his lap. Despite being cajoled into the bath and passively accepting the grooming of his friends, he still wasn't feeling up to company. 'Although I wouldn't say no to another cuddle from Ez', he thought as he quickly swiped a tear from his cheek.
"Come now, Buck, you have to eat more than that. You and I are going to be patrolling shortly, so you'll need your energy," scolded Ezra mildly, as he stood rolling his sleeves back down in preparation for leaving.
"Ain't all that hungry, to be truthful with ya, Ez. And I ain't really up ta going on patrol," mumbled Buck, fidgeting nervously with the edge of the plate in front of him.
"Yes, well, we don't always get what we want in life, Bucklin. As evidenced by the fact that I am not rolling in filthy lucre and the proud owner of my own glittering gambling house in San Franscisco," replied the southerner with a sniff, walking over to stand beside his downcast friend. Placing a hand on Buck's broad shoulder, he squeezed it comfortingly and encouraged, "Come now Buck, aren't you sick of being indoors? What of poor Gray? She'll be thinking you've abandoned her to the vagaries of fate, since you've not been to see her, let alone ridden her in a week."
Guilt at the thought that he'd been neglecting his faithful horse started to seep into Buck's soul and he looked up at the sneaky gambler to see a sparkle of mischief in the green eyes. Taking a huge lungful of air, Buck nodded. He'd have to leave the room sometime, may as well do it now whilst he had a friend willing to go with him.
Slapping Buck on the shoulder, Ezra went to get the big man's outdoor coat, gloves, scarf and hat. Nathan was already bringing over his gunbelt, whilst Josiah plated up the leftovers. Within minutes they were all exiting the building, with Nathan heading back to his clinic, Josiah heading for the saloon to return the dishes and have a drink, and the remaining two heading for the livery.
Chris and Vin paused on the trail leading into Four Corners, listening for any trouble in town but hearing none. It was bitterly cold and Vin was stiff with his aching back, longing for the warmth and comfort of his feather bed. He smirked as he caught himself thinking of Ezra's feather bed as his own, but realised that his brother would be happy for him to do so. It had been a long, cold ride and he'd often found himself missing one of the other five, but Ezra most of all. Particularly the southerner's back rubs, although Chris had rubbed liniment into his aching muscles each night, it wasn't the same. Ezra had called what he did massage, as opposed to a back rub, and said that he worked deep into the muscles to relax them. Vin didn't care what he called it, all he knew was that the minute they got back he was going to beg for a hot bath and a back rub. Once he had some movement back, he'd see about some good food that didn't involve hard tack, jerky or beans. Some of the smooth scotch that Ezra sometimes let him have when they were on their own would also be welcomed.
Looking over at his young friend, Chris smiled wryly at his undisguised eagerness to get home and the dreamy expression that crossed the young Texan's face. The whole week had been spent in relative silence, only speaking when they needed to, as was their way. Last night they'd spent an enjoyable evening huddled under their blankets close to the fire, reminiscing about all the wild things that Ezra had done since they'd known him. The memory of their brother walking practically bare-assed naked down the street after losing everything to Big Lester had them leaning against each other almost hysterical with laughter. When they'd calmed down, Chris had wistfully commented on how much Sarah and Adam would have loved the wily gambler, prompting Vin to sling an arm around his shoulders and give him a brotherly hug, which he'd leaned into gratefully. Thanks to the example set by Ezra, they were all learning the value of friendly human touch.
Sighing, Chris realised that he'd have to make things right with Buck too. In the past, he'd never acknowledged the violence and anger visited on his faithful friend, preferring to ignore it and let Buck ignore it too. This time, there were too many others involved. He had to prove he was man enough to acknowledge his failings and apologise to Buck. It was no more than the loyal man deserved.
Shaking himself slightly, Chris leaned over and gave Vin a very light slap to the shoulder, ordering, "C'mon pard, time to get home into the warm."
Sending a blinding smile to the older man, Vin urged Peso into a trot, keen to get in out of the biting wind.
Buck stood in the quiet livery, leaning against the warm side of his horse with an arm slung over Gray's neck. The patient mare stood and munched on her hay, waiting to see if her rider would be taking her out or not.
"'Ey, Ez?"
"Yes, Buck?"
"Are we really going out on patrol? Only you're not saddling Chaucer…"
"I thought we should wait for young JD to return before committing to a course of action. After all, if his youthful exuberance has allowed him to make a wide enough circuit, there would be little reason for the two of us to risk exposure to the elements on more than a rudimentary sortie," replied Ezra, retrieving his hat from his mischievous horse after said creature decided to snatch it from his head. Shaking a warning finger at the unrepentant equine, he settled the hat more firmly on his head before once again bending to the task of inspecting Chaucer's hooves for damage.
Idly scratching behind Gray's ear, much to her delight, Buck called again, "'Ey, Ez?"
Straightening up and pushing Chaucer's muzzle away from his pockets as the animal nuzzled for mints, Ezra peered through the dim winter light towards Buck, replying with a chuckle, "Yes, Buck?"
Swallowing hard, not sure he wanted to know the answer, Buck asked, "Do you think I'm a fool?"
"A fool? In what way?"
Watching Ezra move over to the stall wall closest to Gray's, looking over Peso and Pony's empty stalls, Buck leaned his chest against Gray and hugged her neck. Forced to chuckle as his friend was constantly molested by his own horse, he shook his head at Ezra's patience with the spoiled beast. Finally unable to keep his thoughts to himself, he blurted, "Well, seems like I been chasing after a twister for years, getting caught up and thrown away more often than I care to remember and well, I been wondering if that makes me a fool. Or kinda sad or pathetic, ya know? Like some damn dog that keeps coming back for more no matter how many times it's kicked and beaten. Even before that night when those sweet angels were taken back into God's arms, Chris was never what yer'd call warm towards me. We got drunk together, had a few laughs together, fought in the war together, chased girls together, but he never really said anything about it. Like… like he could walk away from me at any moment and it wouldn't matter a damn to him, ya know? Seems like I been putting more store in this friendship than he ever has and I'm thinking that makes me a damn fool."
Seeing the shadows of two men on horseback near the door of the livery and knowing that Buck wouldn't due to his back being to the main doors, Ezra debated on whether to bring it to his friend's attention. Suspecting that this conversation would do both old friends some good to hear, he rubbed his thumb along his bottom lip before replying soberly, "Buck, I've known you to act like the biggest fool around, but I also know it's just an act. I'm a master of deception, showing people only what they expect to see, and I can see the same in all of us. Young Vin for instance. Looking at him, you'd dismiss him as a scruffy, hard drifter, yet he has the biggest heart and most poetic soul of anyone of my acquaintance. JD is another who presents an erroneous image to the world. Looking at his Eastern clothing, youthful innocence and softness, you'd think he'd be an easy target yet he has shown a certain iron fortitude when dealing with miscreants that would put Chris to shame. Don't get me wrong, the image they project is part of their personality, but it's not all they are – not even the majority of who they are. You show the world a care-free, jovial face that would appear to let nothing and no-one bother you or tie you down. Yet here you are worried for what others see you as."
Letting himself out of Chaucer's stall, Ezra wandered down the central aisle and entered Gray's stall. Chaucer had followed his master, but stopped at the door of the stall as though awaiting an invitation to enter. The gambler turned the taller man and gripped his shoulders tightly, forcing him to look him in the eye. In a forceful voice that brooked no disagreement, Ezra said, "You, Bucklin Henry Wilmington, are an exceptional man and many things. You have a heart bigger than the West, you have a wisdom that can only be earned by time, you're loyal, forgiving and kind. But the one thing you are not, sir, is a fool."
Giving his friend a little shake for emphasis, Ezra continued in his usual tone, "As for Chris not valuing your friendship as highly as you do, that is simply not the case. Chris is a naturally quiet and self-contained man. Whether that is due to his nature or his upbringing, I don't know but it is the way he is and there's no changing him. Nor I suspect would either of us want to change him. His smile may not be as ready as yours, but it makes it all the more worthwhile when your inspire it. He is as loyal as you and he can be just as kind. One thing I do know is that he loves you as his brother, Buck."
Snorting in disbelief, Buck waved a hand towards his still healing face and asked, "This is love?"
"Lamentably, yes. You see, Chris has been in the most unbelievable pain and refused to acknowledge it. So it festered and manifested through his subconscious," began Ezra, before seeing the bewildered look cross his friend's features, so he changed tack. "Think about it, Buck. Chris had lost the two closest people to him in the entire world. All he had left to lose… was you. He would rather have forced you away, than have you taken away. It was his way of taking back some control over a life that had spiralled completely out of his control. But you refused to abandon him, so he became more and more frustrated. Now I'm not condoning his behaviour towards you, certainly not the violence, but what I am saying is that there were reasons for it."
Confused, Buck shook his head and asked, "So yer saying it is my fault, that I brought it on myself by chasing after him? That I should have just let him chase me away again."
"Not at all, it's an unfortunate situation where no-one is really to blame. You each were acting true to your nature, but those natures just weren't compatible in this case. In other words, you each grieve in very different ways. You choose to cling to what you have left. Chris chooses to destroy it before someone else can. But perhaps in future, you should share the bear baiting with the rest of us, particularly the formidable Mr Sanchez. Although, I don't think Chris will be quite as volatile from now on. This latest beating scared him too, Buck."
A soft, low voice spoke from the door, "He's right, Buck."
Spinning around to the source of the voice, Buck's hand went to his gun but was caught by both of Ezra's before he could do something he'd regret. Shaking the gambler off, he took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair and slapped his hat against his thigh in irritation, stating, "Gawd almighty, Larabee, are you trying to give me a heart attack? 'Cos there are easier ways, ya know, ways involving women."
Smirking a little, Chris came forward and said earnestly, "What Ez just said, is dead right, Buck. But what he didn't say… what I have to say… is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for treating you so bad. I'm sorry for beating on ya, not just recent but over the years. And… and well, I'm sorry for not telling you that sooner. We've been pards for a lot of years, Buck, and I reckon it's meant as much to me as it has to you. You're just better at showing it. My Pa wasn't a man who tolerated what he saw as weakness, so hugging and talking things out just weren't done if you were a boy or man when I was growing up. Guess I just carried that with me through life. I've got to thank you too, Buck. If it weren't for seeing the way you cuddled and kissed Adam…well, I reckon that I probably wouldn't have given him the affection he needed from his Pa. I saw you doing it, so I figured it was alright for me to do it too."
Ezra had quietly slipped from the stall, shooing his curious horse back into his stall before heading out to help Vin with Pony. Finding the tracker half frozen with pain and cold, with tears glinting in his blue eyes from the emotions of the men in the livery, he quickly put an arm around his younger brother and guided him to sit on a haybale near the wall of Peso's stall. Turning back, he saw JD leading three trail weary horses into the livery and ran to help him put them in their respective stalls. Then he started stripping tack quickly and efficiently off Peso, warning Vin against moving with a stern look. Stepping smartly to the side to avoid having yellowed teeth take a chunk out of his derriere, he swiftly offered the big black a peppermint to sweeten the devil horse's mood.
Meanwhile, Buck had stood giving his oldest friend a measured look. Finally, he nodded to himself and stuck out his hand saying, "Fresh start. The past is the past and we move on. We've been partners for too many damn years to stop now. But I won't be letting you beat on me no more. In fact, I'll be steering clear of ya if I see ya crawlin' into a bottle from now on. Figure I'll let Ez chuck yer skinny ass in jail again instead."
Eagerly reaching forward to grasp the big man's hand, Chris swallowed hard, growling past his emotion, "Reckon I'll let him at that."
Sniffing as tears ran down his cheeks, Buck suddenly grinned and swept the blond up in his arms for what JD called a Buckhug. Instead of his usual protests, Chris clung on just as hard, burying his own wet face in his friend's broad shoulder.
Vin could hear what was going on and smiled his lopsided smile, shifting uncomfortably into a position that didn't aggravate his back.
Vigorously grooming the Texan's ill tempered horse before he managed to consume the peppermint and come looking for more, Ezra glanced up to see his two brother's locked in a fierce embrace. Grinning widely, he winked at the tracker and continued his work. By the time he'd finished, Buck and Chris were grooming Pony as JD and Buck sallied insults back and forth across the stalls. Deciding to find one of Tiny's sons later and pay him to take care of the Texan's tack, Ezra walked over and knelt in front of Vin.
"Time to get you into a hot bath, then give you a massage to loosen up your back, I think. You seem to be frozen solid, Vin. Didn't you use the liniment I sent along?"
Peering over the stall wall, Chris reported, "I rubbed that stinky goo into his scrawny hide every damn night, but it's done no good since he strained his back in Eagle Bend after he got conned into helping some old woman load her wagon. Wasn't 'til it was all loaded that her son rolled out of the saloon, fit as could be. Hussled his mother into the wagon and drove out of there without so much as a thank you."
An unholy fire had ignited Ezra's eyes at this maltreatment of his gentle natured brother. Standing up to stare into Chris' eyes, he asked in a deceptively calm voice, "I see. Since you are not incarcerated, I assume that you didn't shoot him. Did you at least find out who the ruffian was?"
"Yup. Seems he's a regular at the Blue Moon Saloon. Fancies himself as a poker player and tends to clean out whoever plays against him. Name of Dan Martinson. His mother wants to go East to join her daughter and grandchildren, but Dan won't give her the money to go 'cos he doesn't want to give up her housekeeping and cooking," replied Chris, knowing full well that he'd just sealed the man's fate.
Slipping back into his coat, Ezra brushed himself off and announced, "I'll be needing a few things in Eagle Bend, Chris. I'll start out tomorrow morning and will be gone a few days. I trust you have no problems with my travel arrangements?"
"No, Ez. I got no problems with them at all," grinned Chris, his face lit up in a feral reflection of his gambling brother's. No-one messed with their family and got away with it. Not even themselves.