The former lovers walked away from the commotion and towards town. They moved in silence, but close proximity. They had walked that way a few times before, taking to the shadows and smaller alleys to the back door of the saloon where Ezra's room could be reached from the other side of the hallway. It was crucial for a man in his line of business to have an emergency exit and they used it to their advantage now to slip into his room unseen.

Gemma let her hands touch the familiar furniture and personal items that she remembered from before. She walked away from the door slowly, her deep blue skirts undulating lazily around her. She was almost by the window when Ezra spoke.

"I missed..." He took his time still searching for what he wanted to say. "That view."

Gemma turned on cue with a small smile. When she spoke it was barely louder than a whisper.

"It's better over here."

They didn't need to speak again. Ezra Standish put down his hat on the dresser and approached the young woman with purpose. He placed a gentle palm on the bottom of her cheek and pulled her into a kiss. Gemma responded thirstily. They stood in the middle of the room for a long time before they moved to Ezra's favourite place in the world - his feather bed.

Ezra awoke to find his former lover wrapped around his torso and her head resting lightly on his left arm. The gambler lay motionless beside her, but the thoughts in his head curled like a treacherous river after heavy rain. He struggled with a memory that lingered sharply in his mind as if it was happening anew.

He had ventured up the stairs to Nathan Jackson's office a few months ago on a hunch. You could have knocked the town healer down with a feather. None of his fellow lawmen - apart from the sometimes hypochondriac JD ever voluntarily came up to his clinic. There wasn't one time, not one that he could get any of the peacekeepers into his office unless they were already unconscious. So when he saw Ezra sitting next to his desk he got worried.

"Ezra, you alright? Those headaches been..."

But the gambler interrupted him before he could finish. When he heard the words: "I am here on personal business," the town healer thought he might need some medicine himself because he must have been hallucinating.

"Of course, Ez. Whatever you need," he said snapping into doctor mode.

Nathan hoped that it wasn't Ezra's shoulder. The gambler had dislocated it more than once and if he kept going it could result in permanent damage.

"Mr Jackson," Ezra began formally. Nathan was put instantly on guard by his tone. There was danger in the ex con man's voice, not vulnerability.

"I have been alluded to and I have been reprimanded over what I consider an intimate matter. I'm here because I've concluded that you will be able to shed light on the matter."

He continued with danger in the voice again: "But to be perfectly honest with you Mr Jackson, I hope you will not."

"What's up, Ez?" the healer asked gingerly.

"I would like to appeal to your conscience and responsibility to me as a fellow lawman. Your colleague."

Nathan pulled into his chair. He wasn't sure why but he had the distinct feeling he'd done something wrong.

"Mr Jackson, are you aware of the reason behind..." Ezra paused but didn't release the sigh that he was holding in. "The reason behind Mrs Monterrey's original departure from our homely hamlet?"

So that was it, Nathan thought. Today's the day. He still couldn't bring himself to say it.

"No, Ezra. I'm not." He wasn't lying, but he wasn't saying the whole truth either. The resignation in his voice confirmed Ezra's suspicions. He pulled his hat around the rim absentmindedly for a while then stood up and walked towards the window. The gambler's eyes lost focus now that he realised that his fears were confirmed.

"Can you… hypothesize, Mr Jackson?"

Nathan shuddered at the cold venom behind the etiquette. He still couldn't make himself say what Ezra already guessed but needed to hear.

"Ezra, I really..."

"Mr Jackson, did you or did you not examine Mrs Monterrey a day or two before she left?"

"I did, Ezra."

"What were your findings?"

This was excruciating but what hurt the worst was that Ezra wasn't even looking at him. He almost felt as irrelevant as he did before he was freed. It took a moment for the former slave to regain composure. This whole thing wasn't Ezra's fault.

"You know I can't talk to you about the personal exams of my patients," he said weakly.

"I have come to believe this particular exam concerns me. And might I remind you that you have shared medical information about our associates among our group more than once."

"Look..."

"Let me rephrase," Ezra tuned to look at him. Nathan froze on the spot.

"Do you have any reason to believe that your findings had to do with my person, Mr Jackson?"

"Maybe. Yeah."

There was a shift in the gambler's poker face and he either couldn't or didn't try to rearrange it. The pain, the disappointment crushed Nathan.

"Don't make me beg, Mr Jackson." he said giving the final blow.

"I thought she was pregnant, Ez. But we talked since and the doctors in San Francisco told her it was kidney stones." Nathan wanted to believe it. He spoke fast in order to put information that was hurtful behind them as soon as possible. Ezra wasn't at all eager to let it go.

"In your professional capacity, Mr Jackson, would you agree with that opinion?"

"I'm not a real..."

"Do you think it was kidney stones?"

The ex con's face was stern now. Challenging. Nathan would have to tell the whole truth.

"I… I don't know. But I didn't. I was confident of my diagnosis. I'm sorry, Ezra."

"And you didn't think to inform me of this, Mr Jackson?" the Southerner was making his way back towards the door without looking up at his fellow lawman.

"As a doctor..." he started but his words were stuck in his throat. The gambler threw an uninterested look back at him.

"I'm not allowed to tell," he finally whispered.

"But what about as a friends, Mr Jackson?"

Ezra Standish reached into his pocket and dropped a few coins onto the healer's desk.

"For your professional services," he said and exited the room.

Nathan Jackson was left behind more disappointed with himself than he had been in a very long time.

Suddenly, the bare places where the young woman's body touched his own burned with an irksome sting. Ezra Standish all but jumped out of bed at the sensation. The movement ruffled Gemma, but she hadn't fully woken yet. The gambler took to dressing without a care about how much noise he was making. He chastised himself without compassion now that his head was clear and his composure of himself back. He cursed the drinks he'd had and the tender atmosphere that he had let overtake him. The night before he let himself take a different train of thought. He had reasoned with himself, albeit his drunken self, that he deserved a night off. That he should let go of the bitterness, regret and anger that he surrounded himself like a shield since Gemma had reappeared. It was his fear of abandonment, ridicule and disappointment that drove the shield up. If Ezra were honest with himself, the shield that he carried had little to do with Gemma and a lot to do with himself. With his overbearing fear of loving in vain. But Ezra wouldn't focus on himself. It was easier... It was safer to hide his fear behind blind rage.

Gemma finally woke when Ezra found it insurmountably difficult to work his cravat which he'd pulled out of the collar with a sharp whip for the second time.

"Early patrol?" Gemma asked dreamily only somewhat aware of his source of irritation.

"To be perfectly frank, Mrs Monterrey, I'd like you to leave at your earliest convenience."

The icy stab that he words delivered to her gut woke Gemma immediately.

"I… I beg your pardon?"

Ezra gave up on his cravat and looked back at his lover through the mirror.

"I'd like you to leave. Now."

Gemma looked for humour in his words but there were none. She looked around the room taking in the situation that she was in.

"It takes half an hour to put on that dress."

The young woman's mind was working hard, but she was too confused to make sense of it all.

"Ezra..." she started,

"I don't care what you do. But I don't want to find you here when I'm back."

The ex con man picked up his hat and left before Gemma had a moment to understand what he was saying.