I had debated with myself as to which universe would host my previous notion (Out of Control) and the ATF world won. The voices in my head kept asking me how the premise might have played out in the Old West, and this is the result.
Chris and Buck watched the exchange going on in front of them with great amusement, all the while being ready to draw if things went wrong, as they so often did at moments like this.
"I repeat sir. You have the option of leaving this gaming table under your own power, being escorted away by the law, or being carried away by the undertaker. State your preference."
"And I repeat – I weren't cheating!" The scruffy cowhand tried to stare Ezra down, but the cool green eyes had suddenly become very intimidating.
"That you are cheating is not a matter for debate. It was amateurish, sad, and totally lacking in creativity. I expect if someone is intending to take advantage of me, they at least put some thought and originality into the effort. Now, have you determined how you will be leaving?" He saw the small twitch that indicated the fool had the intention of drawing his weapon.
"Before you make that final decision, allow me to point out that in the extremely unlikely event I fail to draw first, or for some unfathomable reason miss my mark, the two gentlemen now standing behind you will fire on you before my body hits the floor."
The man didn't turn. "You're bluff –". He heard the distinctive sound of gun hammers being cocked. "You'll still be dead," he stated nervously.
"Yes, but I shall die with the satisfaction of knowing you will never cheat anyone again."
"He ain't dying today." Chris spoke calmly. "And if you even think about twitching again, you'll be dead before you can act on it."
"Fine. I'm leaving." He took a couple of steps, then turned back. "Just what makes you so sure?"
"Please. If you have the desire to learn, then go back to class. Do I look like a schoolmarm to you?" Ezra calmly returned to shuffling the deck as the cheater left. The other players quickly followed, feeling perhaps today was not the best day for poker.
"I thank you for your intervention gentlemen, although I am not certain the effort was required."
"Well," Buck drawled lazily, "you know how Nathan feels about having to patch you up when you get into one of these messes."
"Why would you presume I would be the individual requiring Mr. Jackson's able assistance?"
"Experience," they both answered at once. Ezra huffed, but the grin on his face negated the impact. He indicated to the men to join him, holding the deck of cards up to question their interest. They sat, but both shook their heads at the gaming offer.
"Can't afford to play you Ez," Chris grinned. "Mrs. Potter needs to be paid this week."
Ezra called over to Inez, lifting his glass. "My usual please my dear, if you have a moment." She smiled and a moment later placed his drink in front of him.
"Dinner?" she asked all of them, shrugging on getting three negative responses. "Too early, darlin'," Buck added, to appease her.
Chris's comment was cut off by the noise from outside. A few shrieks were heard, followed by gunshots. All three men were at the door in an instant. Ezra turned to tell Inez to take cover, and was pleased to see she had already disappeared behind the bar.
They weren't entirely certain what was going on out there. What they did know is that JD was currently hunkered down in the livery, cautiously peering around the door to find a target. Josiah was further down the street, clearly having come from the church. From where he'd taken cover, Chris could see neither Vin nor Nathan, but had recognized the sound of Vin's rifle. Buck headed to the right as they left the saloon, automatically headed to where he could give JD some cover. Ezra took off in the opposite direction, positioning himself behind some barrels, still trying to figure out just what was going on. So far, he'd counted just two gunmen, and now could see another lying on the ground near the bank. Wonderful, he thought to himself. Is ours the only bank in the territory, making it the sole target for every thief in sight?
"If you fellas hope to live to see sunset, you best hand over your guns." Chris's demand was met with gunfire from near the store. Buck had the best angle, and a moment later the shooter was down. Ezra hazarded a moment to look at Chris. "Apparently, they did not take kindly to your suggestion."
"They never do."
Ezra went back to scanning the street in front of him, and quickly focused on the would-be robber off to his left. He was about to turn to fire when a new gunman caught his eye. The man was coming up behind Vin, and the sharpshooter had no idea he was there, and none of the others appeared to be in place to take the shot. Ezra's own position was less than ideal, but he could see only one choice available. He reached his hand out between the barrels, firing once. Before he had the chance to retract his hand, he felt a blaze of heat surge through his arm, as the gun went flying from his hand, shot out by his original target. The pain surged through him, and he could not hold back the instinctive shriek. Josiah fired, bringing down the outlaw instantly.
Ezra collapsed back against the wall of the saloon, clutching his arm to his chest. He was mortified to realize the moans and whimpers he heard were his own.
"Vin!" Chris was shouting for information. "Is that it? How many were there?"
JD was running toward them from the livery, and provided the answer. "There was four of them Chris. We got them. Guy Buck shot is still alive."
"Who's hurt?" Nathan was running toward the scene. "I heard a shout, who's hurt?"
"Over here Nathan." Chris was already kneeling next to Ezra, trying to figure out where he'd been hit. Nathan rolled him over gently, as the moaning got softer and weaker. "Oh, dear God. We got a get him to the clinic."
"His room's closer," Chris made the decision. "He'll be more comfortable there. JD, get whatever Nathan will need from his place."
Josiah stooped to pick Ezra up, resulting in another gasp of pain, as the gambler fell into the darkness. He wasted no time in rushing him up the stairs. Vin had already gone ahead, opening Ezra's door, and getting some light into the room. He'd only had a glimpse at the injury, but that was all it took to know things were bad. The kind of bad that never ended well.
Nathan quickly put a tourniquet on Ezra's arm, hoping to stem the bleeding. He'd never been more grateful to have a patient unconscious than he was when he took a closer look at Ezra's hand. He stared for a moment, uncertain where to start. He could only assume that the bullet that impacted the weapon had caused the remaining bullets in Ezra's own gun to explode. The hand was blackened by gunpowder burns. As if that wasn't enough, the gun itself must've shattered, peppering Ezra's hand with shrapnel wounds. The overall impact had likely broken bones as well. Ironically, as far as Nathan could tell, there was no bullet wound. Not that that mattered. There was enough other damage. Maybe too much other damage.
"How bad is it Nathan?" Chris asked softly. Nathan just shook his head. "But it's not going to kill him, right?"
"As long as I can keep the bleeding under control, he'll survive." Nathan's voice was flat.
"And the hand?"
"I don't know Chris. I just don't know." JD came charging at that moment, arms full of everything he could grab from Nathan's clinic. "He gonna be okay Nathan?" JD asked breathlessly.
"Out. Everybody out. I need to work on him and I can't do with you all standing around."
Josiah remained where he was. "You may need someone to help hold him still. I'm not leaving."
The others reluctantly stood and left, each glancing back on their way out. Chris pulled the door closed behind him. "Where's Buck?"
"Like I said, one of them is still alive. He's tossing the jackass in the jail."
"He need doctoring?"
"Nothing that won't keep. Nathan's got more important things to do."
7-7-7-7-7-7-7
Two hours later, the men were still waiting downstairs for word on Ezra.
"Do we have names for these bastards?" Chris growled his question at JD.
"According to the one we locked up they're part of the Walton gang."
"Never heard of them."
"Like because they aren't all that good, or smart. Two of them are brothers, the others just tagged along. The one that shot Ezra was Timothy. Course, Ezra shot his brother, so –"
"So, what? That makes it okay?" Buck snapped.
"No. That ain't what I meant. All I was gonna say is that means they're both dead now."
"Yeah, sorry JD." Buck finish the rest of his beer in a single swallow and signalled to Inez for another. Chris, in turn, signalled her not to bring it.
"That won't help. And it won't help Ezra either."
"Is anything gonna help him? What the hell was he thinking?"
"Wasn't thinking most likely. Going out was a stupid move on his part. And I'll admit, on ours too. We'd been watching him sit at that table half the afternoon drinking and gambling. Shouldn't have let him get into a gun fight, but damn it, he shoulda known better."
"It all happened too fast for you to reason that out Chris. Now that I think about, I'm kinda surprised he could even get out to the street the way he was tossing back his whiskey." Buck thought back and figured Inez had brought over at least four drinks, and maybe more.
"Booze and guns is a bad mix. Wouldn't have thought I'd need to point that out to him."
Inez seethed on the sidelines, listening to them try to spread out the blame, and lay most of it right on Ezra. She knew, at one level, that they were all worried about the gambler. Nathan had been up with him for some time now, and that was never a good sign. Clearly the injury wasn't fatal, unless infection set in, but that didn't mean it wasn't serious. She'd seen how bad things were when she took fresh water and towels up for them. Ezra was half awake again at that point. His hand looked so bad, and it didn't take more than a glance to see that he was in pain, although Nathan's potions seemed to be helping. But his eyes showed much more than that. Fear. Terror. Losing his hand would destroy him. She didn't doubt for a moment he would prefer death to that option.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of customers. No, not customers, just Vin and Josiah. Vin pulled up a chair to sit between Chris and JD, while Josiah came over to pick up beers for all.
"Nathan's trying to get him to drink something to help him sleep. Ezra is being his usual co-operative self."
"What's the outlook?" JD asked hesitantly.
"So far, he gets to keep the hand, but it's busted up bad." Josiah sighed as he placed the drinks on the table. "Ezra's not talking, so that gives you some idea of just how scared he is by all of this."
"Damn fool. How could he have been so stupid as to expose himself that way?" Vin hadn't seen what happened, but Josiah had filled in the details.
"He'd had too much to drink. Shouldn't have been out there." Chris repeated himself, knowing the explanation didn't sound right somehow. JD and Vin both looked down at their beers and silently pushed them aside.
"Still, not like him to be so careless."
"Mistakes happen Vin. This one was just worse than most." Chris stopped speaking at the sight of Nathan coming in.
"He's settling down some. Finally got some tea into him, so hopefully he'll fall asleep soon. Mary's watching him for a couple of minutes. He's way too quiet for my liking, and that ain't something I ever expected to say about him."
"Think it would help if we talk to him?" JD asked. "You know – tell him everything is gonna be OK?"
"He's not likely to believe you, but I don't see that it could hurt. But go easy on him. No blame, no guilt. I'm sure he feels bad enough about screwing up." Chris nodded, knowing that speech had been directed at him. They all rose and left the table, only to be startled by the sound of breaking glass as several beer mugs hit the floor. They turned to see Inez staring at them, then looking quickly down to the tray she had dropped. "What can I say, accidents happen." Buck gave her a puzzled smile as he stepped over to help, but she turned her back to him and began her clean-up. Shrugging, he turned back and joined the others.
Mary had lowered the light in Ezra's room. He was pretending to be dozing off, but she knew better. "Mr. Standish, I have a young son. I know when someone is pretending to be asleep."
"I had no intention of misleading you madam. I simply have not desire, or stamina, for conversation."
"So why is it you look like you have something you want to say?"
Ezra reluctantly opened his eyes. "Young Mr. Travis must be very frustrated by your ability to read minds."
"Not as often as I'd like, but enough to keep him reasonably behaved. If you have something on your mind, I might be able to help. Or at least call Nathan for you."
"No, please do not bring him into this discussion. Not yet."
"You're worried about how this is going to turn out, aren't you?" He gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Well that's to be expected. But Nathan is doing everything he can."
"I am aware of that, and am grateful. But I am also aware of the limitations. Not his, but those of the human body. I saw the damage done. I can feel it. Or rather, not feel it. There is pain, certainly. But there is also numbness and cold. Signs that my hand has been too badly damaged to recover. And I seriously doubt there is a significant future ahead for a one-handed lawman. Wouldn't you agree?"
"You do understand that you are much more than just that in this town now, don't you?"
"That there would be other avenues for me is not in question. But my reason for staying here would cease to be. I don't know that I could bear to remain and not serve in the role I have learned, to my great shock, to cherish." He stopped speaking, hearing a herd of footsteps approaching. He was grateful for the interruption, as he had said far more than he intended. Must be the effect of the tea. "Please Mrs. Travis, share nothing of this conversation. I would be obliged if you forget it even happened."
"I can't do that, but I will keep your confidence."
"Confidence?" Josiah repeated as he opened the door. "Well that's a word I like to hear. Feeling a bit better about things son?"
"Not especially, but Mrs. Travis is doing her best to change that. I presume Mr. Jackson has informed you of the less than optimistic prognosis."
"No Ezra. Told them what I told you. Your hand is busted up bad, but it's too early to say anything more than that."
"Hell, it's only been a few hours Ez. You gotta give things some time."
"I believe in this case, Mr. Wilmington, that time is not on my side."
"Never known you to fold so early in the game Ezra." Chris admonished lightly.
"In this case, it seems appropriate, given the fact I clearly do not have a winning hand. Or possibly a hand at all."
"You can't say that Ezra. Nathan said there's still a chance, and you told me winners don't quit."
"Yes Mr. Dunne, I did. Apparently, I am not a winner this time around."
"But you will be. Even if things don't work out the way you want, well that won't change everything. I bet you can play cards with one hand better than most folks can with two." JD winced, knowing that didn't sound nearly as encouraging as it had when he was thinking it. His reaction was confirmed when Buck smacked him in the back of the head.
"Don't concern yourself Mr. Dunne. I understand the intent of your comments."
"He's right Ezra. I don't doubt for a second you can still clean up at the tables whatever happens." Vin encouraged.
"Hell, probably do even better, since folks will assume you can't beat them with – well with a –" Buck stammered awkwardly.
"I believe the word you are looking for is handicap. Or perhaps deformity? Defect?" Ezra was getting too tired to try to deal politely with any of this. "Never fear gentlemen. I know my place, and will act according to your expectation. Now, if you don't object, I would like to get some rest, and I am sure Mr. Jackson would concur with that notion. I would like very much to be left alone."
"I'll stay with you for the night."
"I believe I just said I would like to be alone. If I need anything, or any assistance, I shall find a way to let you know Mr. Jackson. I have no doubt you will be close by. I trust one of you gentlemen will escort Mrs. Travis home."
They turned, having forgotten she was there. "That's quite alright Mr. Standish." She was glaring at the men. "I will be perfectly fine on my own. You rest well. I'll be by in the morning with some breakfast for you." She turned and left without speaking to the rest of the team.
"What is wrong with the women of this town today?" Buck questioned.
TBC
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