"Where'd they come from?" J.D. Dunne asked as he looked with awe inside the first of two same-sized shipping crates while he ate one of the sweet, creamy treats that had been delivered in them.
"Ezra's ma sent 'em," Buck Wilmington said as he took another bite of his own peeled back fruit. He was much farther along on his banana than was the easterner. Vin Tanner and Chris Larabee had already wolfed down theirs. Ezra Standish set aside one banana each, selecting the ones with just the perfect ripeness for eating by hand, for the other two members of The Magnificent Seven, both of whom were due back from the reservation any time now.
"Why so many?" Vin asked.
"Mistah Tanner, when exactly was the last time before today that you tasted one of these fine fruits?"
"You know damn well that this was my first," the tracker said, annoyed.
"Precisely," Ezra noted. "Ah would suffice it to say that most of the citizens of this dusty town have nevah tasted one, either. When Mother telegraphed that she could send a shipment free of charge, Ah saw no reason to ask for any fewer than she had managed to … procure." Ezra still wasn't exactly sure what Maude had done to earn this gift. He figured it was safer for him to be in the dark and honestly be able to deny any knowledge of the details of the transaction.
"Who'd she have to swindle to get these?" Chris asked.
"Ah have no idea, though to hear Mother tell it, this particular bit of business was completely on the level," the gambler said. He frowned as he said it, knowing how completely ridiculous it sounded. But despite his disinclination to ask too many questions, he truly felt that his mother was on the up-and-up this time.
"And you believed her?" Buck asked. He had only enjoyed one of the yellow-skinned fruit before in his life. 'Good times', he thought with a smile, the memory of that time including a frisky, blonde-haired beauty. It was when they were gifted with something like this from Ezra, like the shrimp he had one time brought in for them, or the regular supply of peach product from Georgia – or bourbon from Kentucky – that the ladies' man truly understood just how far away from civilization they were in their high desert town. He looked to Ezra, waiting for his answer, completely flabbergasted that his sophisticated southern friend chose to stay here.
"Ah did. Mah mother is a smart and talented woman, among other things," Ezra added, causing his friends to chuckle companionably. They had grown to know Maude well over the course of her many visits to her 'baby boy', though one of the things they had learned beyond doubt was that a good mother she was not. "Ah believe she is bein' truthful when she said that she offered some advice to an importer and that a bounty in the banana crop in Costa Rica resulted in an overabundance of the fruit. Costa Rica's bumper crop is, thus, our gain." America was new to importing this particular crop. There was little doubt that the people of the United States would develop an insatiable taste for the delectable fruit, and Ezra had little doubt that whatever Maude's advice to this particular importer, it had resulted in her own net gain of a more cash money kind.
"You don't think that a lot of these bananas will go bad before we get to 'em?" J.D. asked.
"Ah do not, Mistah Dunne. And that is because Ah have a plan for them."
"What's yer plan?"
"Well, Mistah Tanner, there are many delicious ways to enjoy the flavor of banana other than the way you just did. Ah have a four-pronged plan of attack."
"Attack?" Chris asked.
"Indeed. Ah trust that Ah can count on one or two of you to assist in sortin' through these crates to help me identify the four levels of ripeness?"
"What's our reward for helpin' ya out?" Buck asked. The town's famous Lothario could not believe that Maude Standish would send such a prize their way. Buck and his friends were forever surprised by the next unexpected event brought to them by their acquaintance with one Ezra P. Standish.
"Mah gratitude as well as the happy faces of every child who has the opportunity to enjoy the same experience you gentlemen just did."
"Don't reckon that's a bad payback, least not the second part," Vin said, offering a half grin and a wink to the professional poker player.
"Perhaps you will allow me to explain mah plan before deciding how beneficial is the reward?"
"Go ahead," J.D. encouraged. "I mean, I'm volunteerin' to help anyway, but I'm curious about your banana attack."
"Thank you, Mistah Dunne," Ezra said as he wrinkled his brow at J.D.'s phraseology. "As we go through the boxes, we will apportion the bananas into four groupings. There will be some very green bananas. These we will place in Inez's stores in the saloon's basement. If we are lucky, these will ripen slowly and we will have a second batch of the fruit to enjoy next week."
"It's a shame we can't do nothin' to make 'em last longer," J.D. mused.
"It is, but we cannot," Ezra agreed. "Even if we had unlimited ice available to us, the bananas do not do well indefinitely in the cold. The cold storage for shipping them was about the limit that the fruit can tolerate."
"We're lucky to have what we have," Chris said. Ezra smiled at the thoughtful comment from the former gunslinger.
"The second grouping is the overly ripe. They will look decidedly different than the bananas we ate today. Some will have brown areas and some brown or black spots. Others will be laden with these spots. They are still edible, but only in pastries or baked goods. These we will hand off to Missus Potter and Missus Wells. The ladies are expecting them. They will be busy, with the able assistance of Miss Rocios, Missus Travis and Missus Merton, making breads, cakes, pies and anything else they can come up with from their kitchens. For their time, the ladies will receive the third grouping of bananas, the yellow but still not quite ripe group. They will enjoy them with their families. Dependin' on how many there are, Missus Potter will receive extra to sell in her mercantile."
"And the last group?" Chris asked. The former notorious gunslinger marveled at how much Ezra had changed over the years. At least by all outward indications the man had changed. Chris knew Ezra well enough now to know that the kindness he showed in sharing any bounty was not new. It was not a change of heart. It was simply a man with a heart that had been hurt too many times finally realizing that he no longer had to hide his true self; that he didn't need to shield his heart any longer. He no longer had to watch for people who would aim directly for Ezra's weakest spot and suffer embarrassment or indignities from people who did not know him, or from a mother who only loved him just so much. The town of Four Corners and its people had proved to Ezra Standish that they wanted him around, that he was well-worth the investment of their time, and of their concern, and for some, even their love.
"Ah, the last group," Ezra said with a happy smile, "is the ones that are ripe, perfectly ripe for eating as we just have."
"That's likely to be a fair amount," Vin said as the door to the jail opened. In walked Nathan Jackson and Josiah Sanchez.
"Welcome back, fellas," Buck offered in greeting.
"Hey, look what we got for ya," J.D. said as he grabbed the two bananas that Ezra had set aside, and handed them to the newcomers. He completely missed that it was not his place to offer them.
"Bananas!" the two men said in unison.
"I can honestly say that it has been near ten years since I have eaten one," Josiah said as he wasted no time in peeling his and taking a bite.
"Mistah Jackson?" Ezra asked as the healer stared at the fruit in his hand.
"I've, um, only seen pictures. Daddy and Momma used to talk about 'em, before they … " The former slave trailed off, choosing not to verbalize the pain of his mother and father and their unwilling journey to this country from a place in Africa where they grew such delightful things.
"Yes, Ah can only imagine, Nathan," Ezra commented sympathetically to a man who had been held in bondage and still likely had many firsts to experience in his life.
"Brother Nathan, I'm not sure what you're waitin' for, but if that banana remains unwrapped in your hand when I am done with this one, I can't promise you how long it will stay in your hand."
"You'd have to fight me for it, old man, and I can guarantee you would not win," the black man retorted with an easy smile. He peeled the banana and quickly bit off one third of it.
"That's a fight I'd pay to see," Buck said with an amused grin.
"Well, onto the last grouping. Ah feel we should begin with the children and then those adults with whom we are closest. And Ah will retain some … "
"Figures," the former bounty hunter said.
"Vin, they're his, not ours. Ezra is bein' more than generous," Chris countered. Buck and Josiah both sent the long-haired man blistering looks. J.D. shook his head, clearly not happy.
"Thank you, Mistah Larabee." Ezra stepped past Vin and started in pulling bananas out. He turned to J.D. and asked, "Mistah Dunne, would you run to Missus Potter's and bring back several of her market baskets? She had kindly offered them for use when the shipment arrived."
"I'll go," the tracker offered. He turned to the former con man. "Ezra, I shouldn't've … said what I said." Ezra stopped removing fruit from the crate but did not rise from his bent position over the box.
"Yes, well, these fruit are not going to sort themselves," he said in reply, and then went back to removing bananas of assorted ripeness from the first crate. Vin saw the disappointment in the shrug of the shoulder from the gambler, as well as the eyes of his friends, shocked that he could have acted in such a thoughtless manner. Nobody in the room missed the fact that Ezra's response did not exactly function as acceptance of the Texan's apology.
"Who would have thought that bananas would have this kind of effect on the town?" Mary Travis asked. Chris smiled at the beautiful woman who he had been dating now for months, the same woman who currently had no idea that she had a serious dusting of flour on her face and down the front of her dress.
"Maybe Ezra," the tall blond replied.
"Maybe." Though there were children milling about, she had not caught sight of the southerner all day. "Where is Ezra?"
"Not sure. Think he might be hiding in his room."
"Why?" the newspaper publisher asked.
"Hell if I know. Vin said something he shouldn't have. No sooner did Ezra, J.D and Buck have those bananas sorted and delivered than Ezra made himself scarce."
"We've talked about this before," Mary said worriedly.
"Yeah, I know. Gone to ground, lickin' his wounds."
"Someone should find him."
Chris looked down to the woman he was slowly but surely falling in love with. "I reckon by someone you mean me."
When Chris said 'me', Mary said 'you'. They laughed together and Chris shook his head. He leaned over and gave Mary a quick kiss.
"I got a man to see about some bananas," the leader of The Seven said to the woman who had become a leader in their frontier community, despite her gender, and had somehow, miraculously in his eyes, stolen his heart. They had come a long way since those caustic moments when they first met over three years before.
"I'll be in my kitchen," she said happily as she got back to her baking. Chris did not miss the satisfied grin on her pretty face.
The man known for wearing black, though on this day had donned a handsome blue shirt, walked from the Clarion Newspaper over to the former Standish Tavern. He stepped into the saloon, squinted in order to see more clearly as he transitioned from bright sunshine to the dark environs of the drinking establishment, and then looked over to the bar. Inez wasn't serving her customers currently; one of her part-time bartenders was.
"Hey, Sam. Inez around?"
"In the kitchen," the busy man replied. Chris walked toward the hallway, passing the nicely-carved wood of the bar behind which Sam moved feverishly from one patron to the next, and made his way to the kitchen. When he turned the corner he found the pretty Mexican woman pulling out what appeared to be pies.
"What's that?" he asked.
"It is called banana cream pie. It is made from dulce de leche." She blew the hair from her face, the face with a light sheen of sweat, and asked, "What is wrong with Ezra?"
"Vin was … rude 'bout something. Ezra's mad, probably feelin' a little hurt."
"He marched in the door, took the stairs two and three at a time. He could not get to his room fast enough." She paused and got to the real gist of the matter. "He did not stop to say hello."
"Hell," Chris answered softly. "He didn't stop for a bottle, then?"
"He does not have to. He has something in his room. Always." The fiery Mexican woman who had made Four Corners her home was angry at whatever had caused Ezra to be so upset, but too busy with what he had asked her to do to break away and check on him.
"I'm headin' up to see him."
"Muchas gracias, Senor Chris," she said as she carried the two pies over to the table near the open window. It was just a week into the new year, and another sunny, frigid day, though it was hard to tell that in the kitchen as the stove heated up the room, its residual heat helping to keep the main area of the saloon relatively comfortable until someone got around to lighting a fire in the stove.
"Don't thank me yet. He might not be in the mood to listen."
"He will be. He trusts you. You are both good men. He will listen."
"Wish me luck," Chris said as he left the kitchen.
"Buena suerte," Inez said sincerely, though she knew that the tall blond was far enough up the stairs now that he would not hear it.
When Chris reached Ezra's room he stayed to the side of the door and knocked; better safe than dead. "Ez, it's Chris." He waited a few moments, heard the door as it was unlocked, waited as it was opened.
"Come in," the former con man said. Chris looked at his friend as he stepped in and closed the door. Ezra had freshened up since working through the two crates of bananas. His hair was slightly damp, his shirtsleeves still rolled up. His jacket and vest were folded and draped tidily over the footboard of his bed, his tie lay neatly on top of the dresser with his Derringer rig and the Richards conversion. His Remington was still in its holster in its regular place on the gambler. Chris doubted Ezra was ever without a weapon except for when he slept in this bed. Even then, there would always be at least one gun within arm's reach.
There was one more thing Chris observed as he entered: a full tumbler of liquor in the man's hand.
"You all right?" the man from Indiana asked.
"Of course."
"You sure? Thought you'd be checkin' on the baking you've got half the town involved in."
"A well-oiled machine requires little oversight."
"You still mad at Vin?"
"Ah am not … "
"I think you are."
"Does he understand why Ah might be?" Ezra asked as he sat down in his rocking chair.
Chris frowned. He didn't actually expect a reaction from Ezra where he would admit any upset. It was fairly standard practice for the gamester to simply ignore or even worse, deny being hurt, whether it be physically or emotionally, even when there had been witnesses to the happening.
"I think he does."
"You think he does?"
"Look," Chris said as he brushed his bangs from his forehead, "it really ain't my place to speak for him. What I can tell you is that he's mad at himself, he told me that. But you know how he is. He isn't exactly the best at expressing himself."
Ezra downed the rest of his drink and then set the glass down hard on the nearby table. He stood, passed by Chris, and opened the door.
"Thank you for tellin' me."
"Ezra, I want … I hope you know that, well, I know I regret that Vin said what he said. I'll talk to him."
"You need not bother Mistah … Chris." They were alone in his room; even Ezra realized the silliness of the formality. "Now, as the day nears its end, Ah must take a rest in order to be fresh for mah patrol."
"Ez, ya worked all day on those crates of bananas, got the ladies started on baking, distributed bananas to all of the kids. You don't have to take your shift."
"No. Ah would actually prefer it."
Chris eyed his friend carefully. What was it that made it so easy for he and the other members of their law enforcement team to utter hurtful things about Ezra Standish, after all of this time knowing him? How could they do it when they were all fully aware of how sensitive he was, how he felt each attack so intensely? He no longer successfully hid his feelings from his friends, they had all gotten to know him far too well for that. Chris figured that habit was to blame and that they were all smart enough to be able to break that bad habit. Damned if his other friends weren't going to hear about it from him. Yes, he had been just as guilty as the rest of them, but he was determined to do better. What better time to make that commitment than at the New Year?
"You sure?"
"Yes, but Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you, for the consideration."
"Any time. Rest well, Ez," Chris said as he left the room.
"Inez?" Buck called back to the kitchen. He heard no reply, so he called even louder, "Inez!"
"You need not yell, Mistah Wilmington. Senorita Rocios is not available this morning. She is sleepin' in for a change," Ezra informed his noisy friend.
"Oh, sorry. I'll keep it down. I guess I can go eat over at the restaurant," the lean gunman said as he grabbed his hat and began to rise from his seat.
"No, please, sit back down. Ah am preparin' your morning repast today."
"You are? Hoss, that's great. You're a fine cook. Ya always come up with somethin' tasty."
"That is nice to hear."
"Do the others know?"
"No. They will be as surprised as you," the card sharp said with a smile.
"You gonna tell me what you're makin'?" Buck asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
"No. You will have to wait until everyone else arrives. As Ah have no assistance in the kitchen, Ah will be bringin' everything out at one time. Patience is a virtue."
"Reckon you're right about that. You still mad at Vin?"
"Ah am not mad at him."
"Come on, you gotta be hurt. A little frustrated?"
Ezra cocked his head, just barely. "Ah … well, Ah guess Ah am. Ah had thought that Ah had earned Vin's friendship long ago. As mah friendship with Mistah Larabee was hard fought and Mistah Jackson by far the harder to come by, Ah had felt that Mistah Tanner and Ah were well-beyond the … slight from yesterday. Ah certainly would have hoped that he would, at minimum, address any dissatisfaction with me in private. Ah believe Ah have earned such consideration. In any event," Ezra added as he patted Buck on the back as he turned back to the kitchen, "it is certainly not the worst offense Ah have suffered in mah life."
"Damn," Buck said once Ezra was back in the kitchen and out of earshot.
The remainder of The Seven soon showed up. Chris was first and Buck wasted no time filling him in on his conversation with the southerner.
"Yeah, I talked to him yesterday about it. He didn't actually deny that he was mad at Vin, but I guess it really is more that he's disappointed," Chris suggested. He sniffed the air. "I smell bacon."
"Yeah, but Ez wouldn't say what else he's makin'." Buck looked more seriously at his old army pal. "We got to get them to talking. And soon. Don't need nothin' festerin'."
"We will. I talked a little bit with Vin. He's tore up about what he did, but he hasn't done anything about it. And he probably won't with all of us around this morning."
The two gunmen were joined by the preacher and the healer, who more often than not would show up together, followed not long after by the former buffalo hunter. Ezra brought out a tray with a pot of coffee with mugs and then returned with another tray with small glasses half filled.
"We are short on citrus, gentlemen, but there were enough oranges from the last delivery from Denver for a taste for everyone," Ezra said. He glanced at Vin, who never looked up from staring at the top of the table.
"Nice apron, Ezra."
"Why, thank you for noticin', Josiah. Accordin' to Senorita Rocios, mah apron was used by one of the young cleaning staff to sop up … well, let's just say that repeated washings never managed to rid the fabric of the stench."
"The frills are a nice touch," Buck noted. "They kind o' match … "
"Do not say it. Mah cuffs are not near the same."
"If you say so."
"Ah do. Now, where is Mistah Dunne?" They all looked out the windows, save for Vin, who still seemed overly concerned with the tabletop. The outer doors were closed in order to keep out the chill, so the blocked opening through the bat wings left only the windows clear to look for the last member of their group.
"I see him," Nathan said.
"Very well. Ah will return shortly."
"You gonna tell us what we're eatin'?" Chris called.
"No. You will find out in short order," Ezra replied as he headed back to the kitchen, surreptitiously glancing at Vin once more before he left.
J.D. opened and quickly closed the doors to the saloon. "Wind's pickin' up. It's damn cold."
"Come on in and sit, kid. We're in for a treat. Ezra's cookin'," Buck told his young friend.
"Really? I thought maybe he might not do it, after … " he looked to Vin, who finally raised his head, knowing that this next part likely was his fault, " … well, after all."
"You knew?" Chris asked. He watched Vin after he asked the question. The tracker had mumbled 'mornin'' when he walked in, but had seemed on the verge of leaving once he heard that Ezra would be making them breakfast. The Larabee glare that he received when he looked up at one point was the only thing that kept him in his seat. The tracker wasn't too sure he hadn't heard Josiah send a growl his way.
"Yeah. He mentioned it when we were going through those crates yesterday."
Chris turned to his old friend. "Didn't you know?" he asked, annoyed that the ladies' man wouldn't have mentioned it to him.
"Oh, no. Buck wasn't there. He was with Miss Maxwell, by then" J.D. explained. None of the men he sat with recognized the name.
"Miss Marian Maxwell," Buck said helpfully, a happy smile adorning his face.
"Yeah, Miss Marian walked by not long after you all left, and Buck was gone." Buck whacked his friend lightly on the back of the head. J.D. reached to return the favor and then they playfully swatted at each other. Josiah rolled his eyes; Nathan smiled and shook his head at the two 'children'.
"Simmer down," Chris ordered. To J.D. he asked, "So you and Ezra did all of the sorting of the bananas?"
"I helped," Buck answered indignantly.
"Yeah, Buck. For five minutes." Buck reached over to knock the young man's bowler hat off the table when Ezra re-entered the room, carrying a tray piled high, but not with food.
"That is the right idea, Mistah Wilmington. Please remove your hats from the table. We will need all of the room for the food." Everyone tossed their hats to the surrounding tables and chairs. "Mistah Dunne, is the sign still on the door?"
"Yeah. Looks like everyone is headin' to the hotel or the restaurant, like you asked 'em."
"Excellent." Josiah and Buck helped remove the things on the tray and placed them on their table. Napkins, warmed plates, butter, a bowl of nuts, warmed syrup.
"These nuts smell good enough to eat," Josiah said. He took a big, exaggerated whiff as he moved the bowl from the tray to the table.
"They are pecans, from Georgia, and they have been roasted in order to bring out their full flavor," the southerner explained as he took one and popped it in his mouth. "Mmm," he said, followed by, "Ah shall return momentarily."
By this point, Vin was moving his legs as though he was trying to step away but the floor somehow held him in place. He raised his head, looked Chris directly in the eye and said, "I'm leav … "
"No ya ain't," Buck said sternly. "Ezra made a meal for us all."
"It would be rude for you to go now," Nathan said.
"And would pain him more to see you gone," Josiah advised.
"You should stay and talk to him after, anyway," Chris suggested firmly.
The point was immediately moot as Ezra waltzed into the room with a tray full of food.
"Breakfast is served," the chef said as he placed the edge of the tray on the table and, once more, Josiah and Buck performed the job of getting the goods from the serving platter to the table.
"Hot cakes! I love hotcakes," J.D. exclaimed.
"Ah believe we have heard that before, have we not?" Ezra asked all of the other men at the table.
"I think I remember J.D. sayin' something like that once," Chris said with a wry smile.
"Once? I'm sure I've said it more than once," the young man said as he practically hovered in his chair, waiting for his turn to dive in.
"Chris was just kiddin' with ya, kid," Buck said as he found it simply impossible to hide the huge smile he offered to his enthusiastic protégé.
"Nathan, the stove is now coolin' in the kitchen. Would you mind stokin' the fire in the stove?"
"Happy to, Ezra," the former slave said as he efficiently performed the task. He was back in his seat quickly as the southerner continued. "Allow me to explain how this should work, though you are most certainly free to do as you wish. The syrup is real maple syrup from Vermont. It has been comin' to room temperature from bein' stored in the basement. It is far superior to the sugar-based, overly-sweet syrup with which we are all more familiar. It is as warm as the kitchen is at this moment." It was easy to see that Ezra had worked up a bit of a sweat in preparing their breakfast feast.
"I've had it before. My ma would sometimes work extra and get some from the cook in the house where she … well, anyway. It was real good."
"You were fortunate, indeed, J.D., to have tried something so fine and to have had a mother who cared enough for you to do what she could to provide for you."
"I was real lucky, Ezra," J.D agreed softly. He nodded his head, finally able to remember mostly the good times as he was now three years removed from her death.
"Well, before everything goes cold, Ah know mah intention is to take a hotcake, place some butter on it, then some of the pecans and the bananas and then top it all with the warm syrup. Dig in, gentlemen."
And they did. Vin refrained, but Ezra would have none of that.
"Mistah Tanner, Ah know that we had a problem yesterday, but Ah certainly would nevah hold what happened against you forevah, and certainly not such that Ah would expect you to lose your appetite. We will converse after we have both had our fill. Can we agree on that?"
Vin looked about near to tears, as near as any of the men recall ever seeing him before. "Just need ya to know that I feel real bad … bad 'bout … well … "
"Ah know. Please know that Ah expect us to move beyond misspoken words and bad feelings. But now? Ah believe we should eat before these gentlemen eat our fair share."
Vin looked around. "Reckon we should."
The seven men all followed Ezra's advice and had hotcakes with butter, roasted pecans, slices of ripe bananas and Vermont maple syrup. And bacon, lots of bacon.
"Didya try the bacon in this syrup?" Buck asked.
"It is heavenly," Josiah acknowledged. He had been running his slices of crisped bacon through the naturally sweet amber liquid since his first bite.
"How did you know about this combination, that it would be this good?" Nathan asked. "It's really good, Ez. Thanks for doin' this."
"You are welcome, Nathan. Once Mother informed me of the imminent arrival, imminent bein' a relative term, Ah spent some time on patrols rememberin' the combinations of flavors that Ah have enjoyed before and pondered substitutin' bananas for some of those ingredients. As you may be aware, Ah have a fondness for peaches … "
"You do?" Josiah asked.
"I didn't know that," Chris said.
"This love of peaches? Is it like J.D.'s love of hotcakes?" Buck queried as he ducked away from the swipe that his young friend sent his way.
"You gentlemen are so amusin'. Maybe you could take your act on the road … very, very far down the road to, shall we say … Philadelphia?"
"They're just kiddin' with ya, Ez," Vin said with a hint of disquiet.
"Ah recognize that, Vin." The Texan looked a bit caught out, worried. "Good natured ribbing is still something Ah believe we can all appreciate." He smiled at the tracker. It worried Ezra that Vin Tanner seemed so unsure of himself. It was as though this one misstep had taken all the confidence from the usually sure-assured man. "Anyway, Ah imagined that substitutin' bananas for peaches would not be unpleasant."
"Far from it," Chris said. "It's delicious."
"It really is, son. Thank you," Four Corners' de facto preacher said.
"Not sure that daydreamin' about food is the safest way of takin' patrol," Chris said with concern.
"Your worry warms mah heart, Mistah Larabee," Ezra said lightly. "But Ah would warn you all to be prepared for some delectable offerings from the ladies and the hotel throughout this week. Ah, along with the lovely ladies of this town, have managed to come up with a significant number of banana-based delicacies for us to enjoy," the gambler said. "Ah would wager that you might well be sick of the fruit by this time next week," Ezra offered with a self-conscious smile.
"Not if everything tastes as good as this," Nathan said, "though I may have to cut some other stuff from my diet so that I don't gain too much weight," he added as he happily rubbed his full stomach.
"I guess I don't have to mention how good the coffee was, too?" Vin asked. Chris and Ezra were both happy to hear their friend truly participate in the discussion.
"Hell, Vin. Doubt there's anyone in the territory who makes worse coffee than you. I'm thinkin' my horse could make better coffee than you," Buck joked. "And he don't have the benefit of hands. He'd have to do it all by usin' those big teeth o' his."
"What Vin and Buck're tryin' to say is that this is a damned fine cup o' coffee," Chris said.
"And both Vin and Buck thank you for makin' the coffee that you do and not forcin' us to drink Vin's sludge when we don't have to," Josiah offered.
"Actually, that's exactly what I meant," Buck said. "Thanks, Josiah," he added, sending the big man a sly wink.
"You're lucky you ain't my son, Buck," the preacher warned the handsome mustached man.
"You think that means Ezra is?" J.D. asked. Josiah Sanchez had a habit of using the 'son' appellation far too often when it came to the reformed con man.
"No," Josiah and Ezra said at the same time. They shared a brotherly though not father and son-like smile.
"Ez, can you answer a question?"
"If Ah can, Ah certainly will, Mistah Larabee."
"How do you know how much to make for the seven of us?" The leader noticed empty plates and platters littered the table, and every man before him appeared more-than-sated from their meals.
"Well, there is the fact that most of our brethren are big eaters."
"Yeah … and?"
"There is some arithmetic involved."
"And?" Chris asked, feeling like he should be adept at pulling teeth considering how often he had to yank to get answers from the likes of Ezra Standish and Vin Tanner.
"Mostly it is an educated guess," the gambler said.
"A lot like playin' poker?" J.D. asked.
"Not at all like playin' poker, J.D." They all looked at him for more insight, but they would be disappointed. "It would be unwise for me to elaborate further."
"Why, would you reveal one of your tricks for winnin' like you do?" Buck asked.
"As Ah said, it would be unwise, certainly considerin' mah profession. Now, since we are through with our repast, might Ah enlist your aid in cleaning up this mess?"
The members of The Magnificent Seven made several trips to clean up the place. Josiah and J.D. washed and dried the dishes, respectively. Chris and Vin put the dishes back in their spots on the shelves. Nathan and Ezra cleaned up the remains of the egg shells and flour and other evidence of cooking in the kitchen. Ezra always promised Inez that he would leave the kitchen as he found it, and that would be true for this day as in every other time he had used the saloon for a private event for his friends.
Buck had disappeared once he'd carried in his share of the dishes. No one needed to ask where he'd gone off to.
Within thirty minutes, the only men who remained in the saloon were Ezra and Vin.
Ezra brought out two mugs, not quite filled with coffee.
"This is the bottom of the pot," he said as he pulled out his flask. "This will improve the taste significantly."
"Still tastes better than what I can make," Vin noted.
"No doubt, but Ah believe we can both use a little something, though morning propriety dictates that we do not make it obvious." Ezra watched as Vin swilled the coffee around with what he knew was some of Ezra's good stash, but otherwise sat quietly. "Mistah Tanner?"
"I hate that."
Ezra sat and made no reply.
"Don't know why ya got ta do that. Thought we were friends."
"As did Ah."
"Friends don't need ta call each other Mister, Ez." The tracker looked up into the gambler's eyes. The sadness and pain were evident; one need not have been as observant as the card sharp to see it.
"Ah feel certain that we have discussed that it is simply mah way of showin' respect … "
"You don't need to." Vin kept his head up when he added, "After yesterday ya probably don't want to. Don't feel like I deserve it, anyway."
Ezra sat straight in his chair, immobile, and listened to the man he had grown to care for over these years. The respect he felt for Vin was nearly immediate after that first skirmish with Anderson and his men those few years ago. Ezra's respect for Vin's skills and innate decency had only grown since. And despite how close he had become with these men, years of living his life made it especially hard to break with tradition. But he certainly did not want to cause his friends to feel this way. Hate was an extreme emotion. If indeed Vin Tanner hated anyone other than the now-dead but still despised Eli Joe, Ezra Standish did not want to be the man who instilled that feeling in a man who was as decent and good as his friend from Texas, a man whose deepest desire seemed to be to simply do good in this world.
"Ah will abide by your wishes and only call you by your given name henceforth, Vin." He smiled at the troubled man before him and added, "Ah shall apologize now for those moments where Ah shall forget, as Ah will indeed find mahself fightin' upbringin' during this period of transition."
Vin shook his head. "Don't need to apologize. I do, though." The blue eyes lowered and continued, "I wish I could take back what I said. I shoulda known better … I do know better. I know you better."
Ezra remained still, waiting Vin out. He wasn't sure his friend was through, but the longer Vin kept his head down and gone without speaking the more the former con man felt confident that he would get no more out of the man, at least not without further encouragement. And Ezra was not yet satisfied with what he was hearing, anyway.
"What do you know, Vin?" The tracker finally looked up. "Ah mean," Ezra said as he snorted a laugh and rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, "Ah am a gambler, after all. Ah would just as soon win your weekly wage as anything, knowin' that you could use that seven dollars to buy any number of things that you need. Your kerchief is threadbare, Ah know firsthand that your socks are as well." Ezra had caught Vin removing his boot to get to a sizable pebble while grooming their horses recently at the livery. "And even if you were not to use the money for things you need, there must be something, some one thing that you would like, something that you would like to have saved up for save for the monies that line mah pocket that no longer line yours."
"If yer tryin' ta get me ta say bad things 'bout ya, Ez, it ain't gonna happen. 'Sides, we ain't played fer decent money in a long time. And I been savin' up … "
"You have not!"
"Just 'cause you let money slip through yer fingers doesn't mean we're all like that."
"It is indeed true that Ah have a larger bill for clean', both mah haberdashery and mahself, than most of mah brethren."
"Ain't none o' that important. Ya asked me what I know. I'll tell ya. I know that ya got a bigger heart than you want ta let on. I know that you ain't likely ever gonna have enough money ta buy a saloon 'cause yer always buyin' stuff for the kids, and making shur we got decent liquor when we need it. Ya keep takin' things to Gloria to be repaired, even though ya know how ta use a needle and thread, and ya take it ta Gloria 'cause ya know that Abigail Merton don't need the business. And thanks fer darnin' my socks last week. I know that ya have stuff sent ta Nathan without a return address, lettin' him think that the stuff is comin' as a gift from one o' the docs who've passed through town and been impressed with him. I know ya do the same thing with the boys at the livery, that's why half the time they tell us not to worry 'bout a bill. You can get these things by Buck and J.D. 'cause they're just two kids at heart, and you can get it by Nathan 'cause he's so busy. I 'spect Josiah might know that you keep havin' his cabinet o' candles filled up when he heads to the rez. But ya ain't foolin' Chris and ya ain't foolin' me."
Ezra's eyes grew wider the longer Vin went on. As the card sharp sat there and listened to the litany, he realized how so very right his mother was. He had lost his touch, we was no longer sharp.
"Don't go thinkin' that yer doin' nothin' wrong. Only Gloria and Tiny know what ya do, and they only know what ya do fer them 'n' the kids."
"Well, then. Ah don't suppose Ah can deny … "
"No, ya can't. But what you can know is that I feel right awful 'bout what I said yesterday when I've known what ya been doin' 'round town fer a long time. Ya got every right ta as many o' those bananas as ya want. And then ya go and do somethin' nice like what ya did fer us this mornin'."
"What Ah did was mah pleasure, in addition to allowin' me to give Inez something nice as well."
"Don't!" Vin said as he shot from his seat. "Don't explain it away. I need ta know what I can do ta make up fer what I said." The long-haired man looked away, and then turned back to face the man he'd hurt by uttering just one word. "I will do whatever you want, Ez. I just want ya ta stay my friend and know that I didn't mean it and that I will never, ever be like that again."
"Ah guess that what Ah want, then, is to have you understand that Ah accept your apology. That is all that Ah need, so long as we can remain friends. That is all that Ah want as well … mah friend."
"Reckon we got an agreement, then," Vin said as he offered his hand to the gambler. Ezra held his hand out and the two men shook hands, but the tracker surprised his friend by pulling him into a hug. "Thanks, Ez," Vin said softly.
"Ah, too, offer mah sincerest appreciation."
"Good. Guess I should head out."
"And Ah shall lock the doors behind you as the former Standish Tavern will not be open for business until the noon hour."
"Got a date with Inez?" Vin asked.
"That is one word for it," Ezra said with a smile as he ushered his friend out of the saloon.
"Banana bread."
"Banana pudding."
"Banana cream pie."
"Don't forget the hotcakes with bananas."
"Don't worry, kid. We ain't forgot about them," Buck said.
"Hard ta ferget when ya mention 'em near every day, J.D.," Vin joked.
"Bananas with cream," Josiah said as he closed his eyes. "True ambrosia."
"And that's different from the banana cream pie or the banana pudding."
"Oh, Nettie's banana cake."
"That was good."
"It was ALL good."
"Those banana cookies."
"Mmmm," more than one man was heard saying.
"Gentlemen, good evening," Ezra said as he took the stairs down from his room above the saloon.
"We were just talkin' 'bout all the great banana dishes we've been enjoyin' this week," Buck said.
"It has been quite a week," Ezra agreed. "The ladies have certainly outdone themselves."
"You, too, Ezra. You're to thank for all of this," Chris said.
"Why thank you, Chris, but I could certainly nevah have offered all of these delicacies without the talents of the lovely ladies of our town."
"I'll second that, Ez," Buck chimed in lasciviously.
"Don't think those were the talents he meant, Buck," Nathan said with a scowl.
"I know," the ladies' man said with wink.
"You, Mistah … um, Buck, are incorrigible." Everyone laughed.
"I guess that must be so, based on the reactions around this table," the tall, dark and handsome one said.
"As it happens, we will be going through another round of baking from the ladies as the bananas are ripenin' quickly. And Ah have one more offering to make, something Ah believe will be quite a popular taste on your palates."
"Really?"
"Yes, J.D., really."
"When?" Chris asked. "We've all eaten supper, but we haven't had any dessert."
"If you think that Missus Travis might be open to the use of her kitchen, then we can indeed make the dessert this evening. Ah would like to invite Missus Potter and Missus Merton and Miss Rocios to partake as well. Ah know that Missus Wells and her niece are visitin' family in Colorado or she, too, would be invited."
"I'm sure Mary won't mind. Can we do it soon so Billy can have some?"
"Well, Ah will make somethin' else for Master Travis. The dessert Ah have in mind includes some liquor."
"Then let's get goin'," Buck and Josiah said eagerly. They looked at each other and shook hands.
Ezra laughed. "Chris, if you could lead the effort to collect the other ladies, Ah will arrange for Inez to be relieved of duty for the duration. We two will follow with all of the ingredients for our after supper treat."
Within fifteen minutes everyone was gathered at the Clarion Newspaper. Wine and whiskey were flowing as Billy and J.D. enjoyed their glasses of milk. Another five minutes passed before Inez and Ezra showed up with baskets full of bananas, an orange, a bottle of rum and one of brandy. Butter, sugar and molasses, spices and some of the banana cookies left over from earlier in the week rounded out the contents of the baskets. They placed the ingredients in the kitchen and then came back out to spend time with their friends. Inez sat beside the other bakers and commiserated about all of the delicious banana offerings they had been a part of throughout the week. Ezra gratefully accepted the glass of whiskey he'd been handed and took a taste. He knew what was to come later and selected a bottle that would not numb anyone's taste buds as the redeye would have. Knowing that Billy had a fast approaching bedtime, Ezra walked over to his lady.
"Miss Rocios," he said as he took her hand and kissed it, "would you join me in the kitchen to assist in preparing our pleasure for the next part of the evening?"
"Hey, maybe you should head on over to your room for that, Ez," Buck called.
"No, Mr. Ezra! I thought you were staying for a while," Billy pleaded.
"Ah am indeed, Master Travis. Mistah Wilmington was just trying to be funny, and failing miserably." Ezra turned to Billy. "Would you be interested in another banana treat?"
"I think I could eat banana for every meal every day!" Ezra caught the look on Mary's face.
"With apologies to you, and your dear mother, who would no doubt grant your wish if she could, the bananas will soon be a memory for us all, but Ah hope they will be a happy memory."
"They will be, Mr. Ezra. Your ma is a nice lady." Smiles and some laughter – and at least one snort - were seen and heard around the room.
"Mah mother is indeed quite something," Ezra answered honestly. "Miss Rocios?" Inez stood and walked arm-in-arm with Ezra to the kitchen.
"What do you suppose this dessert is going to be?" Nathan asked.
"Ez mentioned somethin' about a dessert he had once in New Orleans," Vin said. "It's served warm."
"And it has rum and brandy," Chris said.
"It'll pack a punch."
"Ez said that at the end, he lights the liquor on fire, should ease the punch some," the tracker added.
"Hope he don't set Mary's kitchen on fire," Josiah said. Chris and Mary looked at each other with concern but quickly felt at ease. They knew they were in good hands with Ezra Standish in the kitchen.
The End.
Author's Note: The dish that Ezra was cooking for his friends at the end of this story is a takeoff on Bananas Foster. He used what he had handy, and the ingredients would certainly do the trick in making a delicious dessert, even though the true Bananas Foster dish was not created until the 1950's. Ezra is serving his over the banana cookies rather than ice cream, which would be a true delicacy in a dusty western town in the later half of the 1800's, especially when J.D. and other children of Four Corners needed any ice available to keep their milk cold!