PART 4
By the time Chris reached the clinic, Ezra was in his nightshirt and in bed, and tied by the right ankle to the foot of the bed. Nathan and Josiah were both arguing with him.
Ezra glared at Chris as he came in. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked, pointing to the rope.
"Ezra, you've been trying to leave since you heard the news," Nathan said. "And I'm afraid of what you'll do when the fever really hits you."
"Mr. Larabee," Ezra stated. "You must realize that this is ill advised. The longer I remain, the greater danger I become to the entire town. They will come looking for me, I have no doubt."
"You're sick, Ezra," Larabee said.
"I already have a plan ready for action," Ezra said defiantly. "I only need get on a horse and head to Ridge City to start it." He looked to Nathan. "I can ride."
"You may be able to now," Nathan said as he came by the bed to lay a hand on Ezra's forehead. "But this thing is just starting. It's gonna get worse, and you won't be good for anything for a few days. You couldn't even stand on your own a couple minutes ago."
Ezra winced at that statement. "It's only because I tripped. I must go now. While I still can. I can untie this you know. I'm not hopeless with knots."
Josiah smiled. "We know, but it should slow you down. Think of it as a reminder."
Nathan added in a soft voice, "You're not yourself when you're sick, Ezra. You get an idea in your head and there's no stopping you. I don't want to be chasing down your skinny self when you're half-crazy with fever."
Chris took the chair next to Ezra's bed. "So, what will happen if you go?"
Ezra crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll be able to keep them from the rest of you."
"How do you figure that?"
"They'll follow me. I can leave a trail."
"For those greenhorns? They won't know the first thing about following a trail out here, Ezra."
"I'll make it hard to miss. I'll send telegrams to bring them to me."
Josiah said, "Chances are they won't get any messages along the way."
Ezra frowned, and looked toward the door. He was breathing hard and Chris could see the bright spots of fever on his pale face. "I'll find a way," Ezra stated. "They won't come to Four Corners. I'll stop them one way or another."
"Why would you want to do that?" Chris asked.
Ezra finally looked toward Chris with a curious expression.
"I want them to come, Ezra," Chris said. "Let them come. They'll be the ones that are outnumbered this time. They'll be out of their element and friendless in unforgiving territory. I want to see how quickly they sink. I want a crack at them."
Beside him, Josiah pulled his Schofield from its holster. "I'd like a shot, too," the preacher said quietly.
And when he looked to Nathan, Ezra found a feral smile. "I'm ready for them," Nathan said. "Let them try to cause any more trouble."
.7.7
With the night, Ezra's fever worsened. Following his talk with Chris, Ezra had promised he would remain at Nathan's clinic, but once the fever took hold of him, Nathan had to tie down his left arm in an attempt to keep him pinned. He just kept trying to leave, to get out of the bed and go.
Everyone cycled through the clinic to allow each of them some rest. It was a full time job to keep Ezra calm. There was no rest for Ezra though. When he wasn't trying to throw himself from the bed and take to the road, he was muttering and tossing.
For a time, he seemed to be trapped in-between those crates again, calling for help that he knew wasn't coming, trying to free himself, and panicking when he couldn't move.
"It's for your own good," Chris said sternly, as Ezra mindlessly tried to get free. "Ezra, knock it off. We can't let you get up."
"I can't get out," Ezra would mutter constantly. "Where'd they go? Why didn't they come back?" He would look at Larabee beseechingly. "Why did they leave me?"
Chris would try to tell him that it was for the best, that getting trapped and left among those crates saved his life. But Ezra would just look at him in bewilderment, and he kept wanting to know where everyone had gone.
How long had he been trapped? Hurt and alone, meandering in and out of consciousness? And then having to wander the streets, looking for help?
Other times, Ezra seemed to be in that hotel room, pulling his right arm to himself as if it still pained him, muttering about how upset Nathan would be. He kept looking toward the door as if he hoped someone would come in, but he didn't seem to see any of them around him.
"Ezra," Nathan told him calmly. "I ain't angry with you. Not at you. You ain't in that place anymore, you hear me? You don't have to worry."
"I tried," Ezra would say. "I don't know what I did wrong." And then he would gaze at his healed arm as if he was still suffering from the infection.
"You didn't do anything wrong," Nathan tried to assure him. Nothing wrong, except go into that situation alone with no back up, with no one to trust. It was supposed to be easy. Jackson hoped that the hotel staff had been kind to him.
"Why do you always get hurt when you're trying to do the right thing?" Nathan asked him quietly, when Ezra seemed more cognizant.
"Not in my nature, I suppose," Ezra said, blinking at the ceiling. "Shouldn't go against the grain. I'm much better at bein' bad. Just gettin' punished for oversteppin' my bounds."
"No," Nathan said, as he daubed his face with a cool cloth. "That ain't it at all. You're a good man, Ezra. Some day you'll accept that fact."
"Not good for my health," Ezra murmured. "Better off alone. Keeps me from tryin' to be decent."
He was too hot, and getting worse. "You need someone to watch out for you," Nathan told him. "You're too reckless on your own. You need folks around you to remind you that you got a reason to stick around."
And Ezra just looked at him in confusion.
The night ended and a new day began. Ezra seemed to be on the run, trying to find someplace to hide.
"Where are you, Ezra?" Buck asked him when Ezra stilled, looking about the room fearfully.
"Safe for now," Ezra would whisper, but he looked haunted as his eyes darted. He hunched his shoulders and shuddered as if cold.
"Where the hell did you have to hide, Ezra?" Buck asked him quietly.
"Got a roof over my head," Ezra said, giving Buck a small smile. "That's enough for now, right?"
"Where is this place?"
Ezra wouldn't say, shivering in spite of the fever that held him. "They won't look for me here."
He moved fitfully, burning with fever and unable to find restful sleep, or to wake up completely.
JD tried to distract him with jokes and stories, trying to occupy Ezra's mind with something besides what was chasing after him in his mind. Ezra would fix him with a determined look, as if listening to the kid's recitations took all of his concentration.
It seemed to help, and JD did his best to sound cheerful as he spoke.
The day wore into another night. Nathan wasn't happy. Most folks had made their way through the fever within 24-hours. Leave it to Ezra to linger in it.
"He wasn't well to begin with," Nathan said glumly.
Josiah tried reading, but Ezra kept cutting him off.
"I need to head home," Ezra said. "I need to go."
"You are home, Ezra."
"Just want to go. I can't though. Not yet."
"Why not, son?"
"I'm not done yet. I know where the money is. I just have to retrieve it. And get it back to the bank. And get them off my trail." He looked morose as he thought about how much work was in front of him.
"You did it, Ezra," Josiah tried to assure him. "You managed it all. You're back with us now."
Ezra would mumble, "I just want to go home."
"You're home, son," Josiah kept saying doggedly, not able to keep the tears from his eyes. "You made it back, Ezra. You did it."
And they waded through another weary night.
Another day started, with little sign of Ezra getting any better. He was quieter than before, seeming to have no strength for any more shenanigans. Nathan did what he could to cool down their conman, almost hoping for more trouble out of him.
Ezra blinked up at him blearily.
"I need you to pull out of this, Ezra," Nathan said. "You were gone for three months almost, and that was too long. I thought we told you to stay in your room and not mix with folks once we got back to town," Nathan admonished softly. "Might've saved you from some trouble."
And Ezra didn't respond. He lay, sunk into his pillow, looking miserable and pale and goddamn sick. The day was hot and long, and nothing seemed to help much. Ezra was too damn hot and had little strength to fight.
They could only wait and hope, sitting with him and talking to him, reminding him that they were there. He wasn't alone any longer.
Night fell and cooled the room. Finally, near dawn, the fever broke.
.7.7.7
Chris entered the clinic to find Vin tossing playing cards on top of the still gambler. Chris paused at the sight, as Tanner flipped another card onto Ezra. Standish was under a blanket of pasteboards.
"Is he sleeping?" Chris asked.
"For now," Vin said. He waited a moment, before resting a hand on Ezra's head. "He's cooler. Nate says his fever finally broke last night."
"Thank God. I didn't think he was ever going to get over it."
"He was pretty much used up from the start. He ain't gonna give up though," Vin said, finally removing his hand from Ezra. With a smile, he flipped a few cards more onto him.
"He mind you doing that?" Chris asked.
Vin snorted as he stood slowly. "He likes the sound of cards movin'," he said.
Chris nodded.
"How are things outside?" Vin asked.
"Quiet," Larabee responded. "Haven't seen anyone coming yet."
"They might not come."
"I hope they do. I've been looking forward to kicking their asses."
Vin glanced to the Regulator clock. "If those men were on the latest train into Ridge City, they'll be comin' into Four Corners soon."
"Any minute now," Chris replied.
And on cue, they heard a sharp whistle. Both men came alert.
"Here they come," Vin said.
"Stay with him!" Larabee ordered as Vin pulled his mare's leg from its holster.
"You can count on it," Vin replied.
TBC - looks like they're gonna open a can of whup-ass