Please see Chapter 1 for warnings and disclaimers.

A/N: Sorry this was so long in coming. I had some rather significant RL medical issues. This is short, but since I'll be traveling for the holidays and I don't know when I'll get more written...I thought I'd go ahead and post.

Chapter 5

The next morning Chris casually sat on a corner of the desk at the jail, facing the twins. "Okay, so you're telling me outside of the spoons, none of this is from locals and you don't know where to find the rightful owners?"

The two nodded.

"Like I tol' ya before, it's not all stolen," Eli replied somewhat irritably, shifting uncomfortably in the wooden chair. The gunman had not given them the option to stand, wanting the children to have a clear reminder of last night while he interrogated them.

Ezra picked up the Derringer and turned it over in his hand, his face losing all color. "Where did you take this from?" he demanded in by far the most severe tone either had yet heard from the southerner.

The two children looked at each other, seeming to communicate something non verbally. Eli's head gave an almost imperceptible shake and Ethan rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"We didn't steal that," Ethan finally answered. "It was our mama's," he offered ignoring the angry look from his twin.

"I suggest you provide me with a truthful answer as I seriously doubt you want any more attention paid to your posteriors," Ezra replied coldly.

"He's not lyin'," Eli said, "It was our mama's. Our daddy gave it to her before we were born."

"That is not possible," Ezra stepped back and dropped into the wooden chair behind him. "What was your mother's name?"

"Katherine Maddox."

"Maddox?"

"Her maiden name was Hamilton," Ethan replied watching the man carefully.

"And your father?" Ezra continued in a voice just above a whisper.

"Her first husband, Edward Stanton."

"She thought he was dead," Eli added, pinning the gambler with an intense glare, "But found out a couple years back that he might be alive."

"She said a man by the name of Ezra Standish –"

"OR possibly Earl Stockholm, Ephraim Scott, Emerill Seymour," Eli broke in with a glower, leaving no doubt as to the child's opinion of the multiple aliases.

"Was real close to our pa and'd know if'n he was still alive and where ta find him if'n he was," Ethan finished as if Eli hadn't interrupted.

There was complete and utter silence for thirty seconds. As Larabee watched the scene play out it occurred to him that a few quiet moments could seem like hours at times like this. Though he'd never let on, he too was anxious to hear the gambler's response.

"So are ya? The right Ezra Standish?" Ethan finally asked. "Do you know our pa?"

"Yes, but I haven't…" he shook his head. "He thought your mother was dead. That she died in a small pox epidemic in Atlanta more than ten years ago."

The twins shared a confused look and Ethan shook his head. "Mama died of consumption no more than six months back."

"Just after they were married, Daddy had to make an important business trip. When he didn't come back, Pappy Bill tried to convince Mama to marry a rich plantation owner. She wouldn't do it, kept saying Daddy wouldn't just leave her. Then our Daddy's Mama came and said there'd been an accident and that Daddy was dead. Mama married Uncle Tom so that we would be cared for." Eli's story was told using impeccable English tinged with a soft southern accent.

"Ezra?" Chris asked. "You okay?"

The man looked like he might very well pass out.

"Yes, I, I just need some air, thank you," he replied standing and heading quickly out the door.

"Well, it's the right Ezra Standish," Ethan said wryly.

"So it appears," Eli responded watching the man's retreating form out the window.

"But he didn't tell us if Pa's alive or dead."

"No, he didn't," Eli sighed, voice tinged with sadness and something else.

"We can sort all of this out a bit later. In the mean time you two have some chores to see to."

"You've gotta be kiddin' me," Eli's vernacular had reverted back. "After all that, yer still plannin' on puttin' us to work?"

"I think what Eli's tryin' ta say," Ethan started in his most charming tone, "Is that all the traumatic memories of the mornin'-"

"Have absolutely no bearing on the fact that you two stole and caused a lot of damage that you have to make up for," Chris interjected, his tone stern and unyielding.

Eli sighed dramatically. "Please, just shoot me now."

M7~~~M7~~~ M7~~~M7

"How long d'ya think he's gonna just sit there drinking?" JD asked in a hushed tone as the assembled group of men watched Ezra down another shot of whiskey. The uncharacteristic display was more than a bit disconcerting to the young sheriff. The gambler's clothes were disheveled, his eyes red-rimmed, and he'd scarcely moved from the bar in two days.

"Not much longer," Chris stated grimly getting to his feet. He'd spent plenty of time over the years drowning his sorrows in a bottle and he figured it was every man's right, but he'd pieced together a bit from the conversation in the jail two days ago and the two children currently working over an the Clarion were not the only ones who wanted some answers.

Josiah came to his feet as well and put a restraining hand on Chris's arm. They shared a look and Chris gave a nod, sitting back down. He'd let the preacher try to reach their friend first, but if that didn't work, Ezra was in for a rude awakening.

After taking a seat, Josiah ordered a drink and took a sip before turning kind blue eyes to his obviously troubled friend. Before he had decided on what approach to take with the card sharp, Ezra started talking.

"I was young, not yet twenty but I'd been on my own for some time. Mother and I would meet up now and again and sometimes join forces for a particularly enticing bit of business. She had come across one such opportunity, and I was more than willing. A wealthy southern gentleman was looking to marry off his daughter. Mother and I posed as members of the Stanton family who had lived in the area but retreated to Europe with the onset of the war." Ezra took a sip of the whiskey in front of him, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

"I was pleasantly surprised to find that Kate was not only as young as myself, but quite attractive and utterly charming. Our courtship progressed quickly as was the plan, but soon I was faced with a dilemma."

"You fell in love," Josiah stated quietly when the younger man didn't continue.

"Yes. We both did. So much so that we were both compelled to tell the truth. As it turned out, Katherine's father had lost everything other than his Georgia estate. Ironically Kate's father was every bit as experienced as Mother in the art of fraud and deceit. We decided to turn the tables on our parents and get married as planned." Ezra turned his head and offered Josiah a humorless smile. "We should have known better than to think we could get the best of two such experienced confidence artists."

"What happened?"

"Shortly after we married and the true circumstance was revealed, our parents wanted to seek an annulment, which of course we resisted most determinedly. Mother received correspondence informing her of the death of a relative whom we had lived with for some time when I was a small child. I had been named in the will and Mother convinced me that I must go investigate the claim, if for no other reason than to provide for my wife. It was indeed a legitimate bequeath but took some time to resolve the details." Ezra uncorked the bottle in front of him and poured himself another drink knocking back the amber liquid in one swallow and pouring another.

"I was quite pleased to return with enough money to give us a good start, but instead of my pretty young wife, a gravestone greeted my homecoming." His green eyes welled with tears that did not fall. "Small pox they told me. I was devastated. It never even crossed my mind that –" Ezra broke off, putting his head in one hand and clutching his glass with the other, his grip so firm it looked as if he might crush it.

Josiah pried the glass from his hands. "You need some rest, brother."

Watery eyes looked up at Josiah. "My own mother. How could she?"

Without comment, Josiah put an arm around Ezra helping him to stand and supporting the slighter man's weight. His friend needed to sleep. Tomorrow would be soon enough to mourn the loss of a life that might have been and to deal with difficult questions, some of which might not have answers.

TBC…