Part Six

Annabelle felt ridiculous as she lazily brushed the already pristine horse. This was Ezra's mount after all, of course he was in perfect condition and in no need of such attention. But just being so close to the creature he held so dear.....It was almost a substitute for having him around.

Lord, did she miss him. She missed his smile, his laugh, the way he would be so cheeky with her but get away with it due to an easy charm and a twinkle in his beautiful eyes. She missed his wit and his long words, always using twenty when three would suffice. She missed watching him as he turned cards over and over in his practiced hands, the way he would subconsciously stroke her hair or slip his arm loosely around her waist when he was talking to someone else. She missed wiping the floor with him in the mock duels they used to have, the product of her rather eccentric aunt insisting she learnt how to fight with a blade.

She missed his teasing right before he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into a kiss. She missed his kisses - the soft and gentle, the passionate, the ones that would trail so lightly up her neck. Even the gentle brushes against her lips as he bid her farewell for the shortest while. She missed waking up in the night and listening to his heartbeat as she drifted back off to sleep - and she had forgotten how cold a double bed could be when you slept in it alone. God help her, she even missed the subtle scent that his cologne always left on her clothes.

She hated that she was so weak. That one man could make her forget all her grand schemes, ambitions and plans. It had never been like this with her first husband. Maybe because she had never loved James. At least not in such a total, devastating manner. He was as dear to her as anything - she'd known him virtually all her life. They'd become such close friends that everyone, including her father and brothers, had simply assumed that it was a romance. James was a businessman at heart and Annabelle had secretly stated that she had no intention of marrying. So, they had decided, why not marry one another? It would save awkward questions and the match making of interfering friends and relatives. At the same time they would always have some pleasant company and their business would flourish.

When he had gone off to fight in the war, she had somehow known it would be the end of it all. Part of her understood that their arrangement just wasn't meant to last. The arrival of the telegram was still a shock however. She had never mourned so deeply in her life. But once the grief had passed - and it did - she had picked herself up and gotten on with her life with as much vigour as before.

It had been different when she and Ezra had gone their separate ways though. She found it harder to function. Her mind wandered too often, wondering what on earth had made her do something so ludicrously out of character. Her ability at the card table plummeted and she soon found herself in serious danger of losing everything. Fortunately a sense of self- preservation had saved her. Yes, in monetary terms she was comfortable now, but she didn't enjoy it any more. She didn't even have a goal. Ezra's dream had been to set up a saloon and she had entered into it whole-heartedly but she didn't have the heart to carry it through alone. So instead she ambled from place to place, trying to find something out there that would spark her back to her vibrant self. So far it had been elusive.

And the worst thing of all? It was all her fault. The decision to leave was hers, made in a state of anger, hurt and jealousy. The feelings had surprised her. She was a calm, rational, level headed person. And yet when he had told her what he and Maude had planned... God, the thought of it had made her feel just awful. She couldn't share her husband in any way shape or form with another woman - even if it was for a con and he didn't so much as like her, let alone have plans of entering into a more intimate relationship. Maude had been so adamant with him that it was the right thing to do, and she held such a sway over her son that he had barely put up a resistance.

When the woman had found out about their marriage, she had - as Ezra had put it - gone into a state of apoplexy. She refused to so much as acknowledge his existence for the first few months. Despite all Ezra's rolling of eyes and complaining about how melodramatic she was being, Annabelle could tell he was deeply hurt. His mother meant a great deal more to him than he ever would admit and her behaviour was wounding. So when he had a chance to make things up with her by participating in her latest scheme, he had agreed to do so without reservation. Annabelle had gone along with the idea also, not in the slightest bit bothered by the plan. At least until she saw it put into action with her own eyes. Much to her own surprise, she couldn't watch him flirt with that girl and hold her hand and pretend to be in love. She couldn't maintain her business like detachment, simply viewing it as a means to an ends. The sight made her feel ill. It hurt so much it burned. She hadn't realised until that moment just how much he affected her. So, angry and jealous, she had given him an ultimatum, they had argued and she had left before he had made his choice. It wasn't long before she calmed down and her sensibility returned. He loved her, she knew that. That other girl meant nothing to him. And yet, she just found it too difficult to go back. It was too late. What was done, was done.

Chaucer stomped in annoyance and she snapped back to the here and now, realising she was neglecting to brush him.

"Sorry, my friend," she whispered gently, "My mind had gone elsewhere. I'll come back tomorrow and bring you something nice to munch on, hmm?"

The horse seemed appeased and she smiled, turning to leave.

Then stopped abruptly at Ezra's form standing just a pace behind her.

She shrieked in alarm, and stumbled backwards, falling heavily on the floor. Out of sheer habit, Ezra reached to help her up. The contact of his hands on her arms was horribly welcome and she quickly manoeuvred herself out of his grasp.

"I'm sorry," he said, immediately, "I didn't intend to startle you."

She nodded, accepting his apology. The shocked anger of their earlier meeting had dissipated, but had left behind it an awkwardness, which was in some ways much worse.

"I see you have reacquainted yourself with my equine companion," he commented randomly, in order to break silence.

She nodded, a lump forming in her throat, "Well, fortunately for me, his reaction to my arrival was far more positive."

Ezra's face contorted with a look of hurt and Annabelle felt awful for having spoken so harshly. She hadn't meant that but.....

She stepped round him, her face rooted to the floor, "If you'll excuse me, sir. I think it would be best for us both if we minimize out contact."

She brushed past his shoulder as she left, and to Ezra it felt like a painful blow. Without stopping to think he reached back and grabbed her arm, turning her to face him.

"Annabelle, I-" he paused, unable to find the right words to say to the sad look in her eyes. And what could he say? That he was sorry. How hollow would those words sound after all this time?

"How have you been?" he instead settled on, just to stop her from leaving.

She wanted to lie. Tell him that everything was wonderful and she was having a whale of a time. But despite her public show, privately she had never been more unhappy. The words seemed to leave her mouth without her consent.

"Lonely," she admitted softly, "Just.....alone."

The tone in her voice just broke his heart. He was swept by an urge to gather her into his arms and whisper that it was all right, until it truly was. But he knew he couldn't. He didn't believe she wanted him to.

"What about your father and your brothers?" he asked, trying to make himself feel better. When she had left he had always reassured himself with the fact that at least she had a family to return to. That she could look after herself and would be perfectly fine without him.

She shrugged, seemingly uncaringly, "We all move about so often. It's hard to keep up. I've no idea where they are."

Could she just twist the knife a little more? - he didn't think his heart had been totally mangled just yet. Upset and unsure of what to say he blurted out the first thing which came to mind. Unfortunately it was just about the worst thing he could have possibly said.

"You've never found another companion?"

He hated the suspicion laced in his own voice, but he knew her beauty, knew her charm. It wouldn't be hard for her to find someone else. Seeing her with Buck that afternoon had only reinforced that. The very thought of her being unfaithful to him made him want to be physically ill. He'd wasted a good amount of money and liquor on trying to erase the images of some rather vivid nightmares from his mind.

He knew however that it would be a wise thing for her to do. A married woman found it much easier to go about in society unmolested than a single one did, and in their line of work a little anonymity was a healthy thing. Her head had always seemed to rule her heart - that was why he had been so shocked when she'd reacted so badly to his mother's scheme. She knew he loved her. He told her often enough and her sudden insecurity was ridiculous. Yet it had torn them apart. Although his anger hadn't helped none. When he had finally calmed and realised he must go and look for her, she had long since vanished.

Predictably, the look in her eyes firmed at the accusation. Annabelle certainly had her dignity and pride.

"How dare you even ask such a thing?" she said in a taut voice, "We made a vow, remember? I've been honest to that, at least."

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Did he trust her?

Probably.

She rolled her eyes, realising he was waiting for a response.

"Not once," she intoned steadfastly, making quite sure that he was in no doubt of the fact.

There was a small pause, while she struggled with her own need to know and her need not to. Perhaps ignorance was bliss after all. In the end, however, curiosity won out.

"And you?" she asked, her tone a little light. Almost disinterested.

His eyes took on a steely resolve, "Not once."

True, there had been the small flirtation with Li Pong. But as time had passed since then, he had come to realise that his attraction with her was due to that look she gave him. The wide-eyed, open soul look that hid nothing. There had been something of Annabelle in that look. She had been the only person to ever let him be a friend to her, and when he had met Li Pong, seeing that look again had almost been too much. It reminded him of what he had lost.

She thought for a moment and Ezra could see her torn between wanting to believe him and being unable to trust him. Which was hardly a surprise. He was a con man after all - why would he find it so hard to lie to her?

"'Be faithful unto her always'," he recited, softly, suddenly feeling a slight shiver, "I seem to remember saying those words. And to my knowledge, 'always' has not yet come to pass."

She seemed satisfied by this at least and she softened once more. At the mention of their wedding vows she subconsciously reached down the ring he had placed on her finger one day in a tiny little church, while all the while a storm raged outside. In a sense the day had all been a little surreal. A decision made and carried through in less than twenty fours hours, it had seemed almost a dream or fiction. In fact, reality had only struck when she found herself lying awake one night a week later, her hand rising gently up and down on his chest as he breathed softly in his sleep. The moon had slipped through the curtains and illuminated the wedding ring on her finger. The ring he had given her as he promised before the law to love and protect her. It was at that moment she had come to realise how hopelessly in love she was.

At the time it had felt strong enough to last for an eternity. Could it really all be over now?

"And", she replied gently, not able to express what she really wanted, "I also seem to recall a second promise. That whatever occurred we would always be friends."

She was asking him for forgiveness, he knew that without her saying. For leaving, for the argument, for her emotional reaction, for the way she had spoken to him earlier.

He could do with a bit of forgiving himself.

"My dear, lady," he said with a small, warm smile, "I sincerely hope we will never be anything less than the best of friends."

"You can depend upon it," she said solemnly. Hurriedly, before she could change her mind, she leant closer and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He looked at her deeply afterwards, his green eyes dancing with a fire that seemed to have been just re-ignited. His whole body was asking her to stay. To forget all that had happened and to simply carry on like they once had. But he couldn't put the feeling into words and until he could he knew she wouldn't act.

"I should go and change," she said, appearing just the slightest bit shy at what she sensed in his gaze.

Reluctantly he let go of the grip her had maintained on her arm. Maybe they could never be what they once were to one another. Two such stubborn creatures, so unwillingly to reveal what was going on in their deepest hearts - maybe they were incapable of sorting things out. But if could make his peace with her, know that she bore him no ill will, perhaps things wouldn't be quite so bad. They could be friends - they'd been wonderful friends before.

He watched as she continued to leave, turning back just moments before she left the stall.

"And Ezra?"

"Yes?"

She smiled at him properly for the first time in three years.

"Happy birthday."

Ezra let out a sigh once he was sure she had gone. Yes, it had been quite an eventful one, hadn't it? The present hadn't exactly been what had expected....but was it what he secretly wanted?

He patted Chaucer's flank firmly as the horse whinnied in disappointment at her departure. "Yes, old friend," he said with a shake of his head, "I miss her too."

--

The wind whistled through the shutters again and Ezra forced himself to sit up, bringing him to state of full alertness. His sleep had been restless so far and it was starting to annoy him. He simply couldn't seem to relax. Most of the time he was only really dozing, existing in a bizarre world between dreams and reality, not really fully aware of one nor the other. He must have drifted off for ten minutes here and there, but nothing that could be considered a proper rest.

Sitting now, staring around his room he came to realise that it quite nicely summed him up.

Empty.

Practical and sparse. It contained the essentials for living. But where was the life in it? Where were the personal items, the memories, the mementoes?

Truth be know, Ezra didn't have any. He had never stayed in one place or with one set of people long enough to gain any. Even Four Corners - which he had to admit was the closest thing to a home he had ever known - often seemed precarious. Part of him was always prepared to move on at the drop of a hat, should it be necessary. While he wanted to believe that the kinship he had developed with other six was unbreakable, he had a feeling that they still didn't trust him. And didn't really trust them either - didn't trust them not to turn on him should he fall from grace once again.

In the whole of his life, the only person he had ever become reliant on was Annabelle. Since she had left, he had found himself unwilling to enter into any situation whereby he could be let down again. That was the main reason why, when he had first met Chris and the gunslinger had asked him to join them, he had refused. Playing the role of the bigoted Southerner and being totally dismissive of Nathan, he had hoped that they would be immediately convinced that they didn't want his type with them. He didn't want to risk the possibility of forming attachments or friendships with people he was pretty sure would never want someone like him around. But it hadn't turned out that way, had it?

Why was he sleeping here alone tonight when she was just across the street? Annabelle understood him. She accepted him. He loved her. The years he had spent travelling with her - winning countless poker tournaments, conning the rich and the stupid, dancing and drinking and laughing all the way - had been the most wonderful he had known. His life had been vibrant and colourful. Now it was dangerous and lonely.

It was Annabelle's sparkling presence that made the difference. Even at his lowest moments - usually when his mother got to her most scathing and dismissive - she found a way to make him smile again. Whether it was a gentle teasing, a squeeze of his hand, a challenge to a sword fight or a soft embrace, she seemed to have the magic touch.

He knew she would be here if he asked her to, filling the emptiness that surrounded him like an aura. The emptiness that seemed to claw closer to him everyday. The emptiness which brought him closer to becoming his mother with every inch of ground it gained. To making him not care about anyone but himself. To becoming devoid of true emotion. Simply living to function.

The prospect scared him more than he would like to admit.

When he had first married Annabelle his mother had thrown a fit. She told him he was weak. She talked about love as though it was some kind of disease or ailment, not realising how much her words wounded him. How could she stand there and tell her own son that love was a bad thing - something she herself didn't have? What about him? Didn't she love him?

Little had she known however that her outburst had only made him clinging to Annabelle more dearly. She was all he had and he sure as hell wasn't going to waste it.

And as he remembered the feeling a wave of determination set in. How did he want his life to be? Did he want to end up old and alone and hated? Did he desperately want to be unhappy? The answer to both was a resounding 'no'. What sane man would?

He was going to change things. Tomorrow morning he was going to go out there and win his wife back. No more moping, no more bitterness, no more sulking. No more skirting around his feelings because of the fear of being hurt. You had to take risks to win the big prizes.

A small smile crept across his lips. Of course, Annabelle would never make it easy for him. But, he did love a challenge.