When Ezra awoke it was dark, his head felt like a herd of buffalo decided to make it their stomping ground, and he had no idea where he was. It was a feeling altogether uncomfortable given his dreams. All that he could recall from them were the typical images of blood everywhere, the excruciating pain, and the screams he was powerless to stop. But from these last vestiges of his dream still with him, he knew what he dreamed about.
The prison.
He shuddered violently, though not from the cold. Where was he anyway? Ezra reached around, feeling for a lamp. Instead of a lamp, he brushed someone's arm. The arm recoiled from the innocent touch.
"No . . ." The voice beside him moaned. "Stop, please . . ." It was Julian. The sound of her voice made him realize where he was, and he quickly ascertained how he got here.
"Good one, Standish. Next time you get drunk over a girl, try not to pass out in her bed." he thought, berating himself. He turned his attention to more pressing matters, like the young woman in the chair beside him, her outline taking form as his eyes adjusted.
"Julian." He nudged her, trying to wake her up without scaring her. Ezra saw her twitching movements, knowing somehow that her dreams mirrored his, though from a woefully different perspective. How he wished he could take that pain from her.
"Jules, wake up. It's just a dream."
Julian jerked awake; her mind still in the dark past. "No!" She screamed, throwing Ezra's arm away. She turned and cowered; not yet realizing where she was.
Ezra got up off the bed, fighting the urge to vomit. He was by Julian's trembling side in a moment, taking her into his arms. She fought against his warm embrace for a moment, heartbreakingly, until she calmed, looking up at the figure holding her.
"Ezra!" The cry was more of a whimper than anything else. Julian wrapped her sweat glistened arms around Ezra's neck. Sobs, both fearful and relieved at the same time, wracked her slim form.
"Shh." Ezra hated feeling so useless, but he didn't know what else to say. It wasn't as if he had anything in his repertoire from when he was comforted as a child. So he just held her and rocked her until the tears stopped.
"Ezra?" Julian asked, voice weak from use. She looked up at him from her position on his lap. "Thanks."
Once again, he was speechless. How could he respond? Deep down inside, he still felt responsible for what happened to her all those months ago. He should have done something to stop those men. . . Ezra pushed those thoughts out of his mind; they would do nothing but turn him back to the bottle again.
He stood, taking Julian's smaller body up in his arms. In a set of motions closely akin to those she'd performed hours before, Ezra lay her on the bed and covered her with a blanket. As he turned to leave, Julian's voice stopped him.
"Please don't go." She wasn't sure what she was saying, except that her brain screamed it with all the force it could muster as she saw him begin to leave.
Ezra turned back to her, not able to clearly make out her features in the lack of light. "Jules, I can not stay here. Your reputation is at stake."
Julian snorted. "We both know where my reputation has been drug since yesterday. Besides, since when have I been one to care about the status of my reputation?" She paused as she saw him begin to relent. "Please don't leave me. Not now. I don't think I can stand being alone at the present moment."
It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Ezra sat down in the chair that Julian had occupied. He reached out an arm and caressed her cheek. "Sleep soundly, my dear, I'm not going anywhere."
***
Julian awoke in a strong embrace, momentarily confused by the addition of a warm body in her bed. She turned, remembering as she did so the night's events.
Her night hadn't been as free from dreams as she would have liked. Not too long after she'd finally fallen back asleep, she'd arisen in a cold sweat. Once again, Ezra was at her side, holding her as the nightmare dissipated and reality returned. The difference was, this time, he stayed in the bed with her, holding her as she slept. For the first time in months, she slept soundly.
Apparently, Ezra had fallen asleep as well. She looked on his face, made boyish by the early morning sun. She stroked the back of her hand against his unmarred brow. He was so handsome, she thought.
Then his eyes cracked open. It took a split second, but he registered where he was in remarkable time. Julian felt unaccountably sad when he sat up, looking acutely embarrassed by their situation. He was about to speak when a knock came at the door.
"Julian! Are you in there?" It was Chris. The blood drained from the faces of the two occupants of the room. "Julian?" He knocked again.
Julian looked at her bedmate. At least she didn't have to worry about getting dressed she thought errantly as she ran for the door. With a final glance over her shoulder at the hiding Southerner, Julian ran a quick hand through her tangled hair. She opened the door a crack, careful not to let her brother see into the room.
"Good morning Chris . . ." she started.
"Why aren't you still at the hospital?" His voice was filled with gentle chastising concern. Julian didn't miss the teasing glint in his eye; both of them knowing Chris himself wouldn't have stayed half as long as she had in the clinic.
"It got stuffy." Julian moved slightly out the door, closing a bit more behind her.
"I was worried when you weren't at the clinic." Years of separation from her brother didn't keep Julian from reading the message behind his words - Where were you?
She thought carefully before replying. "I came back to my room." When in doubt, stay as close to the truth as possible. The conversation, now much longer than she would have liked, was beginning to eat at her already thin nerves.
"Who's in there?" Chris asked when a muffled crash came from behind the door.
Julian sputtered, "Just the maid. It's nothing."
But two and two already clicked together in Chris's mind. He shoved Julian aside, forcing the door open. And glowered when he saw Standish struggling to pull his boots on.
"Mr. Larabee, this is not what it appears, we were merely . . ."
"Get the hell out of here before I kill you where you stand." There was no mistaking the tone of Chris's voice. He meant every word he said. Ezra beat a hasty retreat, the warning at his back. "If I ever catch you near her again . . ."
Ezra was out of earshot when Julian laid into her brother. "Why did you do that? He didn't do anything wrong!"
"He took your honor without a shred of decency. He ruined our name, he got you pregnant . . ." Chris fired back.
"Ezra did nothing, Chris! Any besmirching of MY honor is no more fault of his than it is my own." Julian chose to ignore the comment about her pregnancy; it could only cause more pain than it was worth. And, if she were being honest, she still wanted to spare Chris the pain of knowing. But now that he thought it was Ezra . . . ?
"Julian, I will not have him near you."
"I am a grown woman, Chris." She said, emphasizing his name as he'd done with hers. "I can make my own decisions. And right now I decide that I want you to get the hell out of my room."
Chris's eyes clouded with rage, but he did not act upon it. Despite it all, he was a gentleman. Chris would hate it, but he and Ezra were more alike than they realized. Narrowing his eyes at his headstrong sister, he turned and left in a huff.
Julian slammed the door behind her and began to change her rumpled clothes. As soon as she finished here, she would go after Ezra. She couldn't have him thinking she thought the same as her brother.
***
Ezra shoved items into his saddle bags, not really seeing what he was doing. Article after article of expensive clothing he glanced over, grabbing the first things his fingers touched.
He wasn't thinking very clearly at the moment. Yes, he could have gone to the saloon and drunk himself into a stupor again, but then this morning might repeat itself. So, with no more thought than he gave to what he would eat for dinner, Ezra began to pack his bags to leave.
So involved was he in thought and rage, that he did not hear the knock at the door. He was rummaging through his closet when Julian entered wraithlike into the room, and tossed a green jacket on the floor when she spoke.
"You're leaving." It was not a question, but an accusation. The hurt, if Ezra would have dared a glance, was evident in her dark eyes.
"Mr. Larabee seems to find our association indecent, and as I can not let him think ill of you or himself for what occurred, yes, I am leaving." Ezra pulled the thin strap of leather through its fastening.
"Ezra . . ." Julian didn't know what to say. She didn't want him to go, but how to phrase it when she didn't even know why. Ezra turned to look at her. What he saw cleared his mind of the accusations from Chris, and of all the reasons he had for leaving. All he could see was the young woman in front of him.
Julian was a woman who'd been beaten down by life more times than many men he'd known. She had no parents, her only relative in the world was angry with her, she'd been raped, forced to realize that she was pregnant only to miscarry, and now she was here. Pale, weak, looking very much her young age, and looking very much alone. She avoided his gaze when he came to stand near her, arms clasped in front of her stomach submissively. Ezra's heart pained to see it. She was scared, and he'd sworn long ago that she would never be scared again.
"Oh, Jules." He said, and brought her to his chest. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, hoping that somehow, she could hold him and stop him from leaving her.
"Ezra please don't go." It was only a whisper, but it cut straight to his heart. No one, in his entire life, had ever asked him to stay. Not his mother, not his friends, no one. How could he say no to her plea?
"Julian, I . . ." Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the sound of gunfire in the street. Immediately the tender moment changed, Ezra springing into action. He pulled his guns from their holsters, and checked to see if they were loaded.
A step into the hall he stopped and turned back toward Julian, still in his room. He discharged the derringer from its spring-action holster. "Take it." He ordered her, glad when she took the sidearm.
With that, Ezra raced down the hall. Behind him, Julian took a few seconds to comprehend what was happening. More shots fired off in the street. It took her less than a second to decide to follow Ezra.
***
"Larabee. You killed my brother." The man, dressed in buckskin chaps and jacket, looked menacing enough from his perch on the bay. He'd fired rounds into the sky, along with his six cohorts.
Chris, leaning nonchalantly against a pole despite the violence, spoke calmly. "Well, I don't know about that. I've killed a lot of people."
"You killed him. I saw you do it." Apparently there would be no arguing with this man. Chris made a gesture, signaling his friends to come from their hiding places. Vin poked up from above the livery, Buck and JD from opposite alleys. Nathan came out of the clinic cocking his pistols, as Josiah exited the saloon doing the same. Seconds later Ezra pushed the batwing doors open and joined them on the dusty afternoon street.
The man glanced around, noting the seven men. Counting on the off chance that he and his men could take them, he began to fire.
All hell broke loose. Men ducked for cover behind barrels and whatever else they could find near them. Shots were exchanged rapidly. Ezra, behind a stack of boxes, felt the blood drain from his face when he saw Julian exit the saloon. He lunged at her as shots went off all around their heads.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Ezra hissed at her after they were back behind the boxes. Julian was speechless, not for the first time that day. She didn't mean to come out during a crossfire. She knew she was lucky to be in one piece.
Ezra's hands began to move over her head, her face, her arms. "Are you hurt?" When she didn't reply. "Are you shot?" He took both arms in his hands, nearly shaking her.
"I'm fine." She was shivering, but she wasn't bleeding. Ezra took a peek up at the fray around them, letting loose with a barrage of bullets as he did so. A man, one of the men in the gang, fell to the ground with a cry. Ezra ducked back down, furiously reloading.
"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you." In eerie deja vu, the voice came from behind him. Ezra briefly considered turning and firing at the bearer of the unrecognized voice. Then he looked down at the woman he half covered with his body. A wicked glint in her eye, she lifted a few fingers from her chest. The silver of his derringer gleamed in the sunlight. He smiled at her, before holding his guns in the air and turning slowly.
"Put 'em on the ground." The man motioned with his head. Ezra complied, and the man prepared to fire. Instead he was greeted with another shot, this one sounding from behind Ezra. The man, looking surprised, clutched at his stomach and sunk to the ground. Ezra felt for a pulse.
"He's dead." Ezra said, noticing that the shots on the street seemed to have stopped as well. He turned back to Julian, who was wiping a hand across her sweat glistened brow. "Are you okay?" He asked, helping her to stand up.
She nodded as they walked out into the street where the others stood waiting. Death was in Chris's eyes at seeing Julian's hand clinging to Ezra, but he didn't say a word. It was neither the time nor place.
"Who were they?" JD asked, prying the gun from the lifeless fingers of the nearest gunslinger.
"Said I killed his brother." Chris looked around, counting the fallen bodies, making sure they'd gotten all of them. Nathan and Josiah, at the other end of the street, were dragging one of the men to the jail. "Don't recall who he was." Chris exchanged a quick glance with Buck, asking silently if this could be the brother of one of the men he'd killed after Sarah died. Buck shook his head; he didn't think it was.
Suddenly, one of the men they'd taken for dead sat up, aiming his pistol. The gun, pointed at no one in particular, would hit Julian when discharged. Ezra, seeing this and knowing he could never reach the gun in time, jumped in front of her smaller body as the gun went of. Four shots followed it, fired so closely together as to be nearly indistinguishable; the man would never move again. Nathan and Josiah, nearly to the jail, came running back at the sound.
Julian, stifled under Ezra's body, didn't really understand what was happening. "Ezra?" She touched his shoulder, trying to get him to move. He didn't respond. "Ezra?"
The pressure was lifted as JD and Buck moved Ezra's body off her. "What happened?" She asked frantically. Chris took her forcibly from Ezra's side as Nathan bent down to inspect the gambler. She turned to face her brother. "Chris, what's going on?"
Chris didn't answer her. In all honesty he didn't know, and he didn't want his voice to betray the fact that he didn't care.
"Nathan?" Julian asked , tearing herself out of Chris's grasp. Nathan looked up at the worried face, knowing the news wouldn't be taken well.
"He's not dead, but if I don't stop the bleeding he will be." Nathan turned his attention to the man beside him. "Josiah, help me get him to the clinic."
The prison.
He shuddered violently, though not from the cold. Where was he anyway? Ezra reached around, feeling for a lamp. Instead of a lamp, he brushed someone's arm. The arm recoiled from the innocent touch.
"No . . ." The voice beside him moaned. "Stop, please . . ." It was Julian. The sound of her voice made him realize where he was, and he quickly ascertained how he got here.
"Good one, Standish. Next time you get drunk over a girl, try not to pass out in her bed." he thought, berating himself. He turned his attention to more pressing matters, like the young woman in the chair beside him, her outline taking form as his eyes adjusted.
"Julian." He nudged her, trying to wake her up without scaring her. Ezra saw her twitching movements, knowing somehow that her dreams mirrored his, though from a woefully different perspective. How he wished he could take that pain from her.
"Jules, wake up. It's just a dream."
Julian jerked awake; her mind still in the dark past. "No!" She screamed, throwing Ezra's arm away. She turned and cowered; not yet realizing where she was.
Ezra got up off the bed, fighting the urge to vomit. He was by Julian's trembling side in a moment, taking her into his arms. She fought against his warm embrace for a moment, heartbreakingly, until she calmed, looking up at the figure holding her.
"Ezra!" The cry was more of a whimper than anything else. Julian wrapped her sweat glistened arms around Ezra's neck. Sobs, both fearful and relieved at the same time, wracked her slim form.
"Shh." Ezra hated feeling so useless, but he didn't know what else to say. It wasn't as if he had anything in his repertoire from when he was comforted as a child. So he just held her and rocked her until the tears stopped.
"Ezra?" Julian asked, voice weak from use. She looked up at him from her position on his lap. "Thanks."
Once again, he was speechless. How could he respond? Deep down inside, he still felt responsible for what happened to her all those months ago. He should have done something to stop those men. . . Ezra pushed those thoughts out of his mind; they would do nothing but turn him back to the bottle again.
He stood, taking Julian's smaller body up in his arms. In a set of motions closely akin to those she'd performed hours before, Ezra lay her on the bed and covered her with a blanket. As he turned to leave, Julian's voice stopped him.
"Please don't go." She wasn't sure what she was saying, except that her brain screamed it with all the force it could muster as she saw him begin to leave.
Ezra turned back to her, not able to clearly make out her features in the lack of light. "Jules, I can not stay here. Your reputation is at stake."
Julian snorted. "We both know where my reputation has been drug since yesterday. Besides, since when have I been one to care about the status of my reputation?" She paused as she saw him begin to relent. "Please don't leave me. Not now. I don't think I can stand being alone at the present moment."
It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Ezra sat down in the chair that Julian had occupied. He reached out an arm and caressed her cheek. "Sleep soundly, my dear, I'm not going anywhere."
***
Julian awoke in a strong embrace, momentarily confused by the addition of a warm body in her bed. She turned, remembering as she did so the night's events.
Her night hadn't been as free from dreams as she would have liked. Not too long after she'd finally fallen back asleep, she'd arisen in a cold sweat. Once again, Ezra was at her side, holding her as the nightmare dissipated and reality returned. The difference was, this time, he stayed in the bed with her, holding her as she slept. For the first time in months, she slept soundly.
Apparently, Ezra had fallen asleep as well. She looked on his face, made boyish by the early morning sun. She stroked the back of her hand against his unmarred brow. He was so handsome, she thought.
Then his eyes cracked open. It took a split second, but he registered where he was in remarkable time. Julian felt unaccountably sad when he sat up, looking acutely embarrassed by their situation. He was about to speak when a knock came at the door.
"Julian! Are you in there?" It was Chris. The blood drained from the faces of the two occupants of the room. "Julian?" He knocked again.
Julian looked at her bedmate. At least she didn't have to worry about getting dressed she thought errantly as she ran for the door. With a final glance over her shoulder at the hiding Southerner, Julian ran a quick hand through her tangled hair. She opened the door a crack, careful not to let her brother see into the room.
"Good morning Chris . . ." she started.
"Why aren't you still at the hospital?" His voice was filled with gentle chastising concern. Julian didn't miss the teasing glint in his eye; both of them knowing Chris himself wouldn't have stayed half as long as she had in the clinic.
"It got stuffy." Julian moved slightly out the door, closing a bit more behind her.
"I was worried when you weren't at the clinic." Years of separation from her brother didn't keep Julian from reading the message behind his words - Where were you?
She thought carefully before replying. "I came back to my room." When in doubt, stay as close to the truth as possible. The conversation, now much longer than she would have liked, was beginning to eat at her already thin nerves.
"Who's in there?" Chris asked when a muffled crash came from behind the door.
Julian sputtered, "Just the maid. It's nothing."
But two and two already clicked together in Chris's mind. He shoved Julian aside, forcing the door open. And glowered when he saw Standish struggling to pull his boots on.
"Mr. Larabee, this is not what it appears, we were merely . . ."
"Get the hell out of here before I kill you where you stand." There was no mistaking the tone of Chris's voice. He meant every word he said. Ezra beat a hasty retreat, the warning at his back. "If I ever catch you near her again . . ."
Ezra was out of earshot when Julian laid into her brother. "Why did you do that? He didn't do anything wrong!"
"He took your honor without a shred of decency. He ruined our name, he got you pregnant . . ." Chris fired back.
"Ezra did nothing, Chris! Any besmirching of MY honor is no more fault of his than it is my own." Julian chose to ignore the comment about her pregnancy; it could only cause more pain than it was worth. And, if she were being honest, she still wanted to spare Chris the pain of knowing. But now that he thought it was Ezra . . . ?
"Julian, I will not have him near you."
"I am a grown woman, Chris." She said, emphasizing his name as he'd done with hers. "I can make my own decisions. And right now I decide that I want you to get the hell out of my room."
Chris's eyes clouded with rage, but he did not act upon it. Despite it all, he was a gentleman. Chris would hate it, but he and Ezra were more alike than they realized. Narrowing his eyes at his headstrong sister, he turned and left in a huff.
Julian slammed the door behind her and began to change her rumpled clothes. As soon as she finished here, she would go after Ezra. She couldn't have him thinking she thought the same as her brother.
***
Ezra shoved items into his saddle bags, not really seeing what he was doing. Article after article of expensive clothing he glanced over, grabbing the first things his fingers touched.
He wasn't thinking very clearly at the moment. Yes, he could have gone to the saloon and drunk himself into a stupor again, but then this morning might repeat itself. So, with no more thought than he gave to what he would eat for dinner, Ezra began to pack his bags to leave.
So involved was he in thought and rage, that he did not hear the knock at the door. He was rummaging through his closet when Julian entered wraithlike into the room, and tossed a green jacket on the floor when she spoke.
"You're leaving." It was not a question, but an accusation. The hurt, if Ezra would have dared a glance, was evident in her dark eyes.
"Mr. Larabee seems to find our association indecent, and as I can not let him think ill of you or himself for what occurred, yes, I am leaving." Ezra pulled the thin strap of leather through its fastening.
"Ezra . . ." Julian didn't know what to say. She didn't want him to go, but how to phrase it when she didn't even know why. Ezra turned to look at her. What he saw cleared his mind of the accusations from Chris, and of all the reasons he had for leaving. All he could see was the young woman in front of him.
Julian was a woman who'd been beaten down by life more times than many men he'd known. She had no parents, her only relative in the world was angry with her, she'd been raped, forced to realize that she was pregnant only to miscarry, and now she was here. Pale, weak, looking very much her young age, and looking very much alone. She avoided his gaze when he came to stand near her, arms clasped in front of her stomach submissively. Ezra's heart pained to see it. She was scared, and he'd sworn long ago that she would never be scared again.
"Oh, Jules." He said, and brought her to his chest. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, hoping that somehow, she could hold him and stop him from leaving her.
"Ezra please don't go." It was only a whisper, but it cut straight to his heart. No one, in his entire life, had ever asked him to stay. Not his mother, not his friends, no one. How could he say no to her plea?
"Julian, I . . ." Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the sound of gunfire in the street. Immediately the tender moment changed, Ezra springing into action. He pulled his guns from their holsters, and checked to see if they were loaded.
A step into the hall he stopped and turned back toward Julian, still in his room. He discharged the derringer from its spring-action holster. "Take it." He ordered her, glad when she took the sidearm.
With that, Ezra raced down the hall. Behind him, Julian took a few seconds to comprehend what was happening. More shots fired off in the street. It took her less than a second to decide to follow Ezra.
***
"Larabee. You killed my brother." The man, dressed in buckskin chaps and jacket, looked menacing enough from his perch on the bay. He'd fired rounds into the sky, along with his six cohorts.
Chris, leaning nonchalantly against a pole despite the violence, spoke calmly. "Well, I don't know about that. I've killed a lot of people."
"You killed him. I saw you do it." Apparently there would be no arguing with this man. Chris made a gesture, signaling his friends to come from their hiding places. Vin poked up from above the livery, Buck and JD from opposite alleys. Nathan came out of the clinic cocking his pistols, as Josiah exited the saloon doing the same. Seconds later Ezra pushed the batwing doors open and joined them on the dusty afternoon street.
The man glanced around, noting the seven men. Counting on the off chance that he and his men could take them, he began to fire.
All hell broke loose. Men ducked for cover behind barrels and whatever else they could find near them. Shots were exchanged rapidly. Ezra, behind a stack of boxes, felt the blood drain from his face when he saw Julian exit the saloon. He lunged at her as shots went off all around their heads.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Ezra hissed at her after they were back behind the boxes. Julian was speechless, not for the first time that day. She didn't mean to come out during a crossfire. She knew she was lucky to be in one piece.
Ezra's hands began to move over her head, her face, her arms. "Are you hurt?" When she didn't reply. "Are you shot?" He took both arms in his hands, nearly shaking her.
"I'm fine." She was shivering, but she wasn't bleeding. Ezra took a peek up at the fray around them, letting loose with a barrage of bullets as he did so. A man, one of the men in the gang, fell to the ground with a cry. Ezra ducked back down, furiously reloading.
"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you." In eerie deja vu, the voice came from behind him. Ezra briefly considered turning and firing at the bearer of the unrecognized voice. Then he looked down at the woman he half covered with his body. A wicked glint in her eye, she lifted a few fingers from her chest. The silver of his derringer gleamed in the sunlight. He smiled at her, before holding his guns in the air and turning slowly.
"Put 'em on the ground." The man motioned with his head. Ezra complied, and the man prepared to fire. Instead he was greeted with another shot, this one sounding from behind Ezra. The man, looking surprised, clutched at his stomach and sunk to the ground. Ezra felt for a pulse.
"He's dead." Ezra said, noticing that the shots on the street seemed to have stopped as well. He turned back to Julian, who was wiping a hand across her sweat glistened brow. "Are you okay?" He asked, helping her to stand up.
She nodded as they walked out into the street where the others stood waiting. Death was in Chris's eyes at seeing Julian's hand clinging to Ezra, but he didn't say a word. It was neither the time nor place.
"Who were they?" JD asked, prying the gun from the lifeless fingers of the nearest gunslinger.
"Said I killed his brother." Chris looked around, counting the fallen bodies, making sure they'd gotten all of them. Nathan and Josiah, at the other end of the street, were dragging one of the men to the jail. "Don't recall who he was." Chris exchanged a quick glance with Buck, asking silently if this could be the brother of one of the men he'd killed after Sarah died. Buck shook his head; he didn't think it was.
Suddenly, one of the men they'd taken for dead sat up, aiming his pistol. The gun, pointed at no one in particular, would hit Julian when discharged. Ezra, seeing this and knowing he could never reach the gun in time, jumped in front of her smaller body as the gun went of. Four shots followed it, fired so closely together as to be nearly indistinguishable; the man would never move again. Nathan and Josiah, nearly to the jail, came running back at the sound.
Julian, stifled under Ezra's body, didn't really understand what was happening. "Ezra?" She touched his shoulder, trying to get him to move. He didn't respond. "Ezra?"
The pressure was lifted as JD and Buck moved Ezra's body off her. "What happened?" She asked frantically. Chris took her forcibly from Ezra's side as Nathan bent down to inspect the gambler. She turned to face her brother. "Chris, what's going on?"
Chris didn't answer her. In all honesty he didn't know, and he didn't want his voice to betray the fact that he didn't care.
"Nathan?" Julian asked , tearing herself out of Chris's grasp. Nathan looked up at the worried face, knowing the news wouldn't be taken well.
"He's not dead, but if I don't stop the bleeding he will be." Nathan turned his attention to the man beside him. "Josiah, help me get him to the clinic."