Josiah sat on the old chair next to Ezra's cot listening to the raspy wheezes that emanated from Ezra's bruised body. It was the only sign of life he'd given since he'd been brought back to the clinic. It was the sound that Josiah concentrated on, willing to hear every labored breath so that he could assure himself that Ezra was still there with them. If anyone walked in the door right now, they would immediately assume that the gambler was dead for he was lying there so still. If it weren't for the slight rise and fall of his chest, at times Josiah would think that he really was dead.
Josiah kept a constant vigil over his friend only leaving his side when one of the others came to sit with the gambler. Even Mary Travis and Nettie Wells had taken a turn sitting with the conman.
Josiah rang out the cloth he'd placed across Ezra's fevered brow, resoaking it with clean, cool water. He wondered how much of his care was for the man and how much was for repentance. All of the men felt guilty for what they had thought about the unconcious man. Believing that he had run out on them without a second thought. Now, all they wanted was to have the opportunity to make amends to their friend. Not a single one of them admitted their guilt aloud but they all knew how the others felt.
In an effort to keep himself aware, Josiah looked at Ezra's battered body. 'Boy, he really looks like hell.' His head wound had been stitched and wrapped with a thick white bandage. Nathan had determined that a couple of his ribs were indeed cracked, thus explaining the presence of the tight bandage stretching completely around his torso. There were a couple of badly fractured bones in Ezra's right hand. Josiah smiled slightly at this injury, surmising how the southerner must have come about that injury. He hoped that whoever was on the receiving end of it, still felt the pain that accompanied that punch! His somber eyes came to rest on the smaller bandage that covered the wound that could have killed instantly but for the gambler's luck. During the bungled exchange, a bullet that drove Ezra down to the ground landed close to his right lung. If not for the battle-wrought skill Nathan won over the past years, Ezra would not be alive to wage this battle today.
Josiah remembered the point that Nathan had brought up when he filled the others in on Ezra's condition. The one thing that stood out and puzzled Nathan, was the fact that most of the wounds appeared to be fresh. Ezra had been held for four days; shouldn't his injuries be older than what they appeared to be?
Vin and Chris had been out looking every morning the past two days since Ezra's return for a clue, anything, that would lead them to Julian's location. The faint trail that had been left by the kidnappers turned out to be a dead end. One of them must have ridden back and planted a false one, leading them on a wild goose chase. Now, all that they could do was wait and hope that the kidnappers would contact them again.
Buck and Chris had stayed up late that first night, going over all the facts that they knew, hoping to piece together this puzzle. Buck had privately come to the conclusion that if the kidnappers didn't know Julian was Chris's sister, then there was little chance that they would contact them again. But, if they knew who she was then it didn't bode well for the girl's safety, such as it was. He knew that his old friend had thought of these possibilities as well but was unwilling to voice them. None of this, however, kept Larabee from trekking back out each morning checking leads or possible hide-outs. Anything and everything that might bring him one step closer to finding his little sister.
Josiah slouched even further in the small chair, searching for a comfortable position. It hurt him to see someone so young to be in a position where he had to fight for his life. Particularly someone who had as much potential as Ezra had. During these past two years, Ezra had changed so much from the man he was that day in the saloon so long ago. Only now after much soul searching did Josiah completely realize just how different he really was. The man that Ezra had become was noble and brave. These qualities had shone through his every action. But while Ezra continued to keep himself emotionally separated from the others, he succeeded in blinding the others to his real self. It was easier to keep them sidetracked by a wise-crack or a ten-dollar word than to have to deal with the feelings upfront.
Josiah looked over at the young man, realizing that he was witnessing the struggle for life by an amazing individual. This was a man who had the guts, the sheer tenacity to stay and fight for what he believed in, what was right, when everyone seemed to be fighting against him. Even when they believed him to be a coward and a deserter, he had clung to his promise he had made that fateful day at the Seminole village.
"I am so sorry, Brother," Josiah whispered to the comatose man. Keeping his voice low so that he did not wake Nathan who was asleep in the other bed on the far side of the room, he continued, "I never should have thought . . ." Josiah stopped, hastily wiping away the tear that had worked its way down his rough cheek.
In his grief, he pushed the chair back away from the bed, feeling embarrassed suddenly. It took him a couple of seconds to register the fact that he had heard Ezra cough. The preacher flew back to the bed and quickly laid one of his big hands on Ezra's shoulder as another round of coughs racked his body.
"Nathan!" Josiah roared, causing the sleeping healer to abruptly jerk from his nap and rush over to the two men. Josiah watched intently as Nathan touched the base of Ezra's throat, checking his pulse. The fear that had been running through Josiah abated as he watched Nathan visibly relax for the first time in days.
"Fever's broke,." the healer said with relief. "He's goin' to be okay. The damn fool is goin' to make it, Josiah!"
Josiah smiled and dropped back down in the abandoned chair to catch up on some much needed rest of his own. Come morning, he'd tell the others.