Title: Missing Scene – Penance, part 2 of 2
Author: Tipper
Description: Some missing scenes from Penance, to explain Ezra's reaction to Irene at the undertakers, and to explain where the heck Ezra and Buck disappeared to when everyone else was rallying around Josiah. In two parts.
For the disclaimer, acknowledgements, notes, and so on, see part one. For those who haven't noticed, this is the second part.
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Missing Scene – Penance, Part Two
"Ever wondered why I wear a wedding ring, Buck?" Ezra interrupted, his voice sharp. He waggled his left hand in front of the ladies man, the sunlight glinting off the simple gold band.
Buck blinked.
"Wedding ring? I thought it was just more of your frilly jewelry."
Ezra laughed, and looked at the large green stone ring he wore on his other hand. Frilly, indeed. "Mr. Wilmington, you should know by now that I rarely go for anything plain. No, sir, this simple circlet is a wedding band. I was married…once."
Buck's eyes widened, not having expected this. "You were married?"
"You really want to hear this?"
Buck looked at the ring, probably seeing it for the first time. Ezra didn't wear it all the time, but often enough that it did seem to blend into the finger. He looked up at the gambler, noting the unusually open expression. Ezra was offering to tell him everything. Buck was not about to let this rare opportunity slip by. He nodded.
"Who was she?" He asked quietly.
Ezra tilted his head, "Heather Carter. Well, actually, her real name was Heather Kazinsky, but, as you would say Buck, that is neither here nor there." He sighed, and leaned back once more into the headboard, his green eyes glittering as he stared off into the space at the end of his bed.
"She was the most beautiful woman I have ever known. Dark curly hair, which she used to spend hours on perfecting with scented oils, complemented by big brown eyes and a heart shaped face that always made her seem younger then her years. I didn't even know until I'd been with her for a few months that she was three years older than me…" A dimpled smirk crossed his face, lighting it up. "She was also perhaps the best con artist I have ever known…and that includes my redoubtable mother."
"She was a con?"
"Took me for a ride first time I met her. Had she known that I was as false as she was, I doubt she would have tried so hard. Lord, her face when she learned that all my supposed wealth and breeding was a real as her title, her 'Lady Heather Maclean.'" Despite his misery, Ezra laughed, remembering the way she'd punched him….right before she'd kissed him.
Buck nodded, recognizing the signs of a man who had once been deeply in love. "So how'd you meet her?"
"Oh…it was the last year of the war and I had earned my peace with it, so I headed west to get away and gather my rags about me. I spent some time in Kansas, working the poker halls and hippodromes to earn enough cash to set up a new life, a new identity. After a couple of months, I turned back towards Missouri and entered Kansas City, by which time I had reinvented myself as a very young and naive English railroad financier looking to invest in rail expansion in the west – a boy in a man's world, if you will." He paused, his accent changing to imitate the Queen's English, his face morphing into a stern looking visage. "Mr. Peter E. Solomon the third, at your service, sir!" He announced gallantly to the world of the room, his hand forming an English palm up salute.
Buck just shook his head, wondering if he would ever know who this man on the bed really was. Ezra's expression fell, his eyes losing their mirth as his left hand reached again to pick up the dice. He started to roll them across his knuckles in a nervous fashion.
"After ingratiating myself with the proper sort of society, I met the woman whom I imagined would be the perfect mark, a Scottish heiress, the Lady Heather. I spent weeks wining and dining her, convincing her of the need to join in my endeavors. She in turn, tried to convince me to join hers. Then one night she came storming into my rooms, threw a picture of me taken with my mother six years before when I was only fifteen after we were arrested in Saint Louis for…well, that's another story. In any case, she threw the picture on the bed and demanded to know who I thought I was fooling. Since her Scottish accent had disappeared at the same time as her anger took over, I told her I thought I was fooling a Lady, but perhaps I had been fooling a tramp." He gave a short laugh, "That was perhaps not the best thing to say at that exact moment." He grinned, and sentimentally rubbed his jaw. "She had a terrific right hook."
"Sounds like quite a lady."
"You don't know the half of it, Buck. Before she graced my life, I considered myself a pretty good confidence man, but I was well out of my league. She was quicker, smarter and cleverer than I could ever hope to be. After figuring each other out, we did the natural thing and joined forces, pretending to be in love and charming the purses out from under every aristocracy-loving soft touch in the city. She rescued me so often out of my messes of lies that I began to wonder how I ever existed without her." He stopped, his eyes glassing over, and the pained look from this morning returned. "I still wonder."
Buck grimaced, "Just pretending to be in love, huh? So…when did you stop pretending?"
The gambler looked down at his hands, and started running the dice over his knuckles again. "I think…I think for me, I was in love with her from the moment she stalked into my room and punched me.…It was also…it was also the first time she kissed me….Oh God…" His eyes closed, the dice falling away as he clenched his hand into a fist, his breath quickening again. When he opened them again, he was looking down at the ladies man, his green eyes glistening, all pretense of aloofness gone.
"Do you know what it is like, Buck, to fall so deeply that, for every moment that you are not with a person, all you can think of is the touch of their lips on yours? All you crave is to know that sensation again?"
Buck stared back at him for a moment, feeling his own blue eyes warming in response, and finally nodded. "Yes…yes, I do." Ezra nodded back, then turned away to pull the cork out of the new bottle with his teeth, upending the fierce reddish liquid into his mouth, and allowing the warmth to streak down his gullet to briefly relieve the tightening in his chest. When he finished and wiped his a hand across his mouth, his composure had returned.
"Well, then, you may also know how frustrating it is not to know whether that person loves you back."
Buck didn't answer, simply looked down at his own hands where they rested on the arms of the rocking chair. Ezra cleared his throat, and reached for the dice once more, using them to keep his emotions in check, just as he did with cards. They resumed their dance across his knuckles.
"Anyway, we, uh, we continued to work the high society of Kansas City, never once needing for anything, despite the danger that we would be caught if we stayed too long. Yet, for all that I knew it would eventually have to end, I found myself praying for it to last forever, so that she would be with me forever. I used to spend my days in a dream, waiting in breathless anticipation for the nights when we could be together." He took yet another drink, and Buck fought the urge to rip the bottle away from the younger man.
"But, as with all good things…" the gambler smiled, not finishing the sentiment. "Oh, but we finished our business in Kansas City in style…I still remember the day we left as being one of the best moments in my life."
"By that time, we had been wandering within the inner circles of society in the City for months. Everyone believed we were in love, and Heather had worked out the most wonderful coup de grace, one that could set us up for life. We would get married. She had slowly gotten it into the heads of the haut monde that her title was all she had left after Queen Victoria had stolen the Maclean land over of a Clan dispute. She let them know that I was her savior, that together we would go back to Scotland and reclaim her Highlands home and castle. The romance of it had the women swooning and the men treating me like a prince. I barely had to think at all, Heather was carrying me along in her wake so effectively I wasn't even aware of how lucky I was. I almost began to believe I truly was Peter Ezra Solomon the third." He paused, the grin back on his face as he swished the liquor around the bottle. "Of course, the next step was that I had to be mugged, robbed and left for dead."
Buck's eyebrows flew up. "Somebody mugged you?" He asked, incredulity lining his tongue.
"Oh no, Mr. Wilmington, I mugged myself," Ezra laughed, and took another swig. "I had some rather nefarious characters trash my rooms at the hotel, rough me up a little and knock me out, then set fire to the place. Heather then 'found me' just before I perished in the flames. I, of course, lost everything in the unfortunate accident, including all the supposed 'wedding presents' sent from Britain." He grinned. "This was just a week before the wedding was to take place, and I played my part to a tee."
"Obviously I could not possibly have the money to replace what I'd lost wired across the ocean in time, so much of it being tied up in investments. More to the point, the Solomon family were still wary about their youngest son marrying a Scot, despite her estimable pedigree, and were not willing to help. The wedding would have to be cancelled, postponed perhaps for months or even a year. Heather was the consummate actress, crying into the laps of all the women, driving them into a frenzy of concern. The men had conferences in the parlours of city hall, shaking their fists in the air at the indignity of it all. No, no, my dear sir, the wedding must go on!" He raised the bottle high, and Buck found himself leaning forward, lost in the story.
"It was incredible. They did everything, from finding her a dress, to replacing all the so-called presents, to providing us with the carriage to take us east back to New York and England. The wedding took place in the largest church in the city, filled with roses and streamers, silk and lace. It was a fairytale, and, for a day, everyone felt the magic of it. I suppose it was a way for them to be able to create something beautiful as the war wound down around them, a way to forget all the devastation it had caused…." He shook his head, the faraway tone of his voice bringing the time to life.
"I've never seen so many happy people in one place, and I didn't even know who half of them were. Heather just acted every inch the lady, smiling and preening as she walked down the aisle, looking so beautiful it brought joy to all who looked on her…I looked like the toad trying to get the princess to marry him in comparison."
"I gave my heart to her that day. Every word I spoke on that dais, every phrase, I have never been more true to anything in my life." His eyes flicked to glance at Buck, but the ladies man hadn't moved, his lips slightly parted as he listened, completely open and never judging.
"As far as I know, Kansas City has never learnt of the deception. For them, it was merely a moment in time where they could do something magical, and then we were gone, with promises to write and tell them of our success back in Britain. We rode off in that opulent carriage, the words "happily ever after" ringing in everyone's mind, the fairytale at an end."
Ezra's voice failed him on the last phrase, cracking slightly, and he stopped, leaning forward over the bottle cradled in his arms. After a moment, he sat back up, resuming the story more slowly.
"Before we were even a day out of the city, Heather started laying out our future. We would get an annulment when we reached Ohio, then head North to Canada, maybe try the same con. I told her I didn't want an annulment. Told her that I loved her." He sniffed, and ran his left hand across his warm face. "She didn't reply. Just looked at me as if I had two heads."
"She didn't love you?" The ladies man asked. Ezra shrugged.
"I don't know. She never denied it. I think the idea scared her. It meant that part of her was no longer her own, but mine. Instead, she would avoid the subject, saying that we would talk about it when we got to Ohio and got rid of the carriage….But I think she did….The way she kissed me when we slept together at night, baring her soul to me…." He stopped, frowning at the memory. After a moment, he took another draw on the bottle, literally guzzling down the harsh liquid.
Buck watched him, head tilted to one side, waiting patiently for the rest of the story. When Ezra didn't continue after a few minutes, he frowned slightly.
"So what happened?" he asked finally.
Ezra glanced in his direction, meeting Buck's blue eyes for only a second before returning to stare out at nothing. Without seeing them, he looked down at the cards on the bedspread, running his left hand across them, causing some of them to flip over, disturbing the perfection of the pattern, of the game.
"It was the carriage, I suppose. It was too tempting. Black, with a pattern on the side, the top brimming with packages. We must have looked so very rich….We were not far out of Saint Louis when the bandits chased us down, killing the driver before he could even pull the horses to a stop. I tried to crawl out and stop the beasts myself, but by then one of the bandits had already climbed aboard and stopped them himself. Then he shot me in the side, propelling me off the hateful contraption. Last thing I heard clearly was Heather screaming my name."
"I don't know how long I was unconscious, but I thought I could hear her calling out to me at points. When I came to, they were gone, the carriage being gutted by fire. Heather lay a few feet from me, her skirts ripped to shreds, her face turned away…and just as you so aptly guessed, Mr. Wilmington, her throat was slit. I crawled to her side, lifting her into my arms, holding on to her until I once more fell into oblivion. And I welcomed it. I really did. I wanted to die with her." He exhaled slowly, blowing the air out his cheeks, and looked at the bottle in his hand. With deliberate care he moved to place it back on the floor, releasing both his hands. He started to pick up the displaced cards and stack them together again. When he continued, his voice had taken on a detached quality.
"I woke up a few days later in a hospital in Saint Louis. My mother was there…God knows how she found me. Apparently, about the same time that I lost consciousness the second time, some soldiers came along, drawn by the fire, and saved my life. But the bandits were long gone by then. The soldiers never found them." He shrugged. "Just another random act of violence, or so they told me."
"My mother helped pay for the funeral, but she didn't have enough to hold a proper one, not with the hospital bills. Saint Louis was just too expensive of a city. Heather was relegated to a pauper's cemetery." The muscles in his face twitched as he held desperately onto his composure. He licked his lips and sighed.
"Maude took me with her to New Orleans when I was strong enough, telling everyone down there that I was wounded in the war that was winding down. She broke me out of the misery I felt with her usual gentle touch – by beating me into the ground with guilt then reminding me of my 'god given gifts.' I responded to her prompting by throwing myself into her cons, playing whatever part she wanted of me. Investment schemes, marriage schemes, poker games….Anything to help me forget who I was, even if only for a while. We worked our way through the states, never in any consistent pattern, sometimes in the North, sometimes in the South. The last place we visited was Virginia…" He smiled. "We separated after Virginia, and I came west again." Having put the cards together again, he started to shuffle them, indulging in the sweet sound of the motion. His sound.
"A few years later, I was where you found me."
Buck sat back, and crossed his arms, overwhelmed. This was not what he expected. How is one supposed to respond to a story like that?
"It wasn't your fault," the ladies man tried lamely.
Ezra looked at him, and smiled lightly. "I am not Mr. Larabee, Buck. I know it wasn't my fault. You do not need to counsel me. I have lived with this grief for nigh on seven years, and I have come to terms with it. Does not mean that I have forgotten it…or that when I see atrocities like today's that it doesn't still sicken me to the core, reminding me of all that I have lost." He turned to the deck in his hand, bent them in one hand then sprayed them into his other in one fluid move.
Buck nodded slowly, and watched as Ezra turned the cards over and quickly started memorizing the order. After going through them once, he started to lay them down in the same pattern as before.
"I, uh, don't suppose this little talk has helped you any?" The ladies man asked, hope underlining the phrase. Ezra didn't pause in his movements.
"If it makes you feel better, Buck." He replied, finishing the pattern and reaching for the dice.
"Is that a yes?"
"Has it made you feel better?" Ezra replied.
"Uh…no, not really."
"Good."
Buck grinned.
Ezra sighed as he prepared to loose the dice, surprised that he did actually feel a bit better. He looked over at the ladies man, a genuine smile on his face.
"Did I overhear a rumor correctly that you will be racing that McCormack brother tomorrow?"
Buck nodded. "Yup, and you better bet on me Ez. I plan to wipe the floor with that popinjay."
"Oh, Mr. Wilmington, I assure you, I know exactly where to place my bets."
Buck grinned again, and leaned forward to watch Ezra work.
Several hours later, just after the sun went down, the ladies man left the gambler in a deep, alcohol induced sleep, knowing the younger man would be unlikely to wake until forced to. As such, Ezra never heard a thing when Mary screamed, or when Josiah ripped the saloon below to rubble. Not until Nathan poured a bucket of water over him at four in the morning in order for Ezra to take his place on patrol did the gambler learn of what he missed.
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(Two days later, after Poplar's demise….)
Josiah knelt down next to Poplar, and picked up the coins that the man had dropped to the ground when he fell. Ezra stepped up next to them, standing at Poplar's head as Josiah placed the coins over the dead man's eyes. The preacher glanced up at the gambler, then around him at the others, feeling more than seeing them all there with him. Vin came up from behind and placed a hand on the big man's shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Josiah," Ezra said quietly, kneeling down to meet Josiah's eyes. "He cheated."
Josiah shook his head slowly, not breaking the contact. "He's gone to his torment, Ezra. He only cheated himself."
"What do you want to do with him?" Vin asked Chris, who had stepped up behind Ezra. The preacher and the gambler continued to stare at each other, each of them unable to look away for some reason.
"Yosemite's gone to fetch Silace," Buck answered from behind them. "Seems to me we should just stick him in a pine box, throw him in the ground, and forget about him."
"Forget Buck?" Josiah said solemnly. "I don't think any of us will forget."
Ezra nodded, "Irene Dunlap doesn't deserve to be forgotten," he whispered back at the preacher. Vin and Chris both frowned at the strange moment, then backed away, leaving the gambler and the preacher to…whatever it was they were doing.
Abruptly, Ezra dropped his gaze, ending the connection Josiah had felt with him. Dropping his hat low to cover his face, the gambler stood up and walked away, never once looking back. A sudden feeling of loss gripped the preacher, but it soon passed as he looked once more down at the dead man. When he looked up, he found Vin's hand there, offering to help him stand up. Gratefully, he took it, standing just as Silace and several others came around the bend with a casket.
End.
