Chapter 6

"Sorry, haven't seen anyone around these parts since before Christmas," the man said, closing his shirt-collar against the bitter wind. His gray hair fell along his face, swaying as the breeze swept it. His glasses hugged the end of his nose and peeked over the top to glance from man to man. He stood within the doorframe of his house, grasped the door against the cold. "When'd your friend go missin'?"

"Three days ago — got caught up in the current after a fall," Buck said, and then blew into his hands.

The man shook his head: "Try the Walkers up the road a ways, they're always irrigatin' their bottom pasture from the river, Mr. Walker might know if there's a place you could look — don't be shocked though if'n you can't find your friend. Snow could cover 'im right up an' you'd never see 'im. If'n I was you, I'd get back to the town you come from and wait 'til it melts — that'd be your best bet."

Chris nodded and turned toward his horse. "How many folks live along this stretch of the river?"

"Can't say for sure — gettin' lots of city folk tryin' to make a livin' out here. Ask the Walkers, they might know."

Chris sighed, gripped the saddle horn and slipped back into the seat. His thighs and ass felt the sting of snow. "Thank you," he said, and reined his horse right.

Josiah's stomach roared and he tightened his gut to hide his hunger. Buck smiled and then stretched his face, feeling the animation of cold. JD had hunkered down within the confines of his jacket and his bedroll, satisfied with peering through a narrow hole for his eyes. Nathan blew into his hands and rubbed his thighs. He turned and looked toward Vin who sneezed and then coughed. Chris continued on.

The Walker house was large and it rested adjacent to an equally large barn. A large corral filled with horses and stock was attached to the barn. A dog barked, but remained in the yard tied to a tree. A simple doghouse was next to the front porch. Six children stopped playing and pointed toward the group of riders. One child yelped and ran for the house.

A man stepped onto the front step with a rifle propped against his hip.

Chris pulled his horse to a stop and looked around. It was a nice place, a place a man could easily call home. "We ain't lookin' for trouble, just want to know if you've seen a friend of ours?"

The man shrugged: "Ain't seen anyone here abouts for near… five months. You lookin' to collect a bounty?"

Chris shook his head and rubbed his face. "We're the law from Four Corners, a friend got caught up in the river current after we transported a prisoner to Harvest — we're just lookin' for him."

A woman stepped behind the man with a toddler in her arms. "Come in, y'all look near froze to death."

"Couldn't put you out, ma'am," Buck said.

"You'll put me out by not comin' in. I've got a pot of coffee on the stove an' I just pulled a pie from the oven. My oldest boy, Tommy 'ill see to your horses." She turned and reentered her home.

"Mrs. Walker's set in her way, boys, you best come on in." The man watched his sons take the reins of the horses while the riders relinquished them.

The heat felt good against their skin and Vin moved closer to the stove to warm his hands. He coughed and wiped his jaw. He moved back when he felt a hand touch his brow, and smiled when Mrs. Walker returned to the counter with a shake of her head.

"Thank you for the invite, we'll be out of your hair —"

"Oh, hush," Marylynn said, and passed each of them a cup of coffee. "I was born to this land, an' Harold knows it about as good as me." She motioned for them to sit while her husband leaned against the counter, his rifle cradled in his arms. "Your friend's got a fever."

"It ain't nothin', ma'am." Vin wiped his face with his hand and ignored the looks.

"Yet," she said. She reached for her pie and started to slice it on the wooden countertops. "Much longer an' it will be."

"Who is it you're lookin' for?" Harold asked, shifting his weight to his other leg.

"A man by the name of Ezra Standish," Josiah said, "he's about Vin's height, fancy dresser, real smooth talker."

Harold shook his head: "Ain't seen anyone like that around here… ever." He sighed and placed his rifle in the corner. He looked out the window and watched his children gather around the horses. "You say he fell into the river? How long ago?" He watched Marylynn pass out the slices of pie.

"Couple three days," Buck said, warming his hands on the bottom of the plate.

Harold took a deep breath and shook his head: "Sorry, boys, you ain't lookin' for a man, you're lookin' for a body."

JD sighed and picked at the crust on his pie.

"Ezra's pretty resourceful," Chris said, "an' we ain't willin' to give up on him — not 'til we know."

Marylynn helped Vin remove his jacket and she placed it on the back of a chair. He remained by the stove and sighed when Nathan moved across the room and pressed his palm to his forehead.

"You ain't gonna make it anywhere tonight," Harold said. "There's plenty of room in the tack room for y'all to sleep, an' there's a stove out there to keep you warm. You're welcome to stay, prepare yourselves for the ride tomorrow, but…" he looked at his wife, "fact is, you ain't gonna find your friend. If he was lucky to get himself pulled from the river he's probably covered in snow about now, an' if'n he wasn't lucky enough to get out o' that water — he could be 100 miles from here." He watched their faces fall. "I think it's a might noble for you to be out lookin' for 'im, riskin' your lives, but it ain't worth any of you gettin' sick with lung fever or worse. Nature don't care who he was, just the six 'o you, an' I think if'n your friend was lucky 'nough to ride with you, he probably wouldn't want you killin' yourselves for nothin'." He pushed himself off the counter and looked at his wife. "Marylynn an' I 'ill go fix up that room for you."

Chris watched them leave and walk to the barn hand in hand.

"He's right," Josiah said, and looked out the window.

"He don't know Ezra, hell, the man's more resourceful than a one-legged man at a butt kickin' contest."

"Buck," Chris sighed, frowning.

"It's true." Buck stood and walked to the door.

"How're you feelin', Vin?" Chris asked, and pushed himself away from the table.

Vin coughed and shrugged: "Been worse."

"Nathan?"

"Hell, Chris, I'll fix him up when we get to the barn, but if he takes it easy — he'll be fine."

"We'll head back to town tomorrow —"

"What about Ezra?" JD asked, feeling a shiver move up his spine.

"You can't fix what you can't see," Chris said, he stood and pushed the door open. He stepped out into the cold and slowly walked to the barn.

"We're leavin' 'im?" JD asked, looking from man to man.

Josiah nodded, a tear slipped from his eye. "But Jesus said unto him, Follow me; and let the dead bury their dead."

Chapter 7

Ezra cracked an eye and looked at the scenery around him. A fire blazed, and a table filled with dried flowers and materials had been placed at the far end of the room. Two chairs were in front of the fireplace. He could see someone sitting in the far chair. The woman was older with gray hair. She hummed quietly to herself, carefully stitching some cloth.

His throat felt raw, and every muscle ached. He was warm and covered in blankets. The cold wind slammed against the house, and he pulled the blanket further over his shoulder. The woman turned and smiled. Shadows hung below her eyes, and crows feet lined her features.

"How're you feelin'?" Gertrude said, and stood. She brushed her fingers over her ear, pushing her grays back into place.

He sighed and nodded.

"Good enough," she said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She brushed her thin fingers through his hair and smiled. "Your fever broke late last night — you gave us quite a scare."

"Sorry," he said, surprised by the harshness of his voice.

She poured him a glass of water and helped him drink it by keeping his head lifted.

"Ho…how long?"

"You've been with us six days," she chuckled, "I guess if the Good Lord could create the earth in that time we could heal a dying man." She looked at him and helped him sit up. "We found you by the river's edge — near froze and near drown."

He frowned and rubbed his face.

"What's your name?"

He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and said, "Ezra… Ezra Standish."

She smiled: "It's a good name, strong name."

He took a deep breath again: "Thank you."

She grabbed his hand: "You're welcome, Ezra." She smiled, and asked, "Are you hungry?"

He nodded and watched her stand and walk across the room.

Gertrude sighed, spooning Jane's stew into a bowl. "My sister's asleep, but I know she'd be thrilled to see you awake." She grabbed a roll and a spoon. She retook her seat on the edge of the bed and then handed him the bowl after he sat up.

"Smells delicious."

"Jane always had a way with cuisine." She patted his leg and stood to retake her place in her chair. "Do you have family, Ezra?"

He nodded, savoring the taste of meat and potatoes.

Gertrude smiled and angled the cloth she was mending toward the fire for better light. "That's good," she said, smiling. She paused, dropped her hands to her lap and looked into the fire. "You remind me of a dear friend." There was a far off look to her eyes, and she watched the flames flicker.

"What happened?" Ezra asked, and lowered his hands to his lap.

"He died… he died a long time ago." She turned and smiled, sadness hugged her eyes.

"Sometimes friends are more devastating to lose than family."

A single tear slipped down her cheek and landed on the breast of her blouse. "Indeed."

Ezra wiped his brow and was surprised to see her take the bowl. He lay his head back and close his eyes. Gently, she tucked the blanket around his shoulders and returned to her chair and continued to mend his trousers.

Buck pushed the last bit of snow from the boardwalk and watched as a team of horses was escorted into town. The sun was out and melting snow continued to slip from the roofs. Smoke still billowed from chimneys. It had been ten days since Ezra's disappearance, and they were all feeling it. Spring had arrived, but hopes had died.

Vin stepped out of the saloon and leaned against the railing. "Seen anythin'?"

Buck shook his head: "Nope." He leaned against the shovel handle and sighed. "I've lost friends before," he said, "but it ain't the same."

Vin clenched his jaw and nodded: "No, it ain't." He turned and watched Chris toss his cheroot into the street while standing on the steps leading to the sheriff's office. "Don't s'pose it ever will be."

Ezra tossed the saddle onto Peso's back and quickly cinched the girth. The big black snorted and stomped his front hoof. The wind had died down, but despite that, the cold air continued to lay heavy across the land. The sun glistened off the snow, and the raging river swept past the house carrying with it debris of all kinds.

Ezra untied Peso and led him from the barn. Gertrude and Jane stood on the porch, their arms wrapped around each other's waists. The stood side by side, the bottoms of their gowns fluttered against the slight breeze.

Gertrude stepped off the porch and handed him a small bundle. "It's for the trip, just a sandwich and dried fruit." She watched him tie it to the saddle. Her heart raced, not wanting to see him go.

He turned and smiled. "Thank you, for everything."

Gertrude nodded, looked up, and smiled: "Didn't think this would be so difficult." She rubbed her hands together. "You take care of yourself." She placed her hand on his cheek as he took a step back. "I was not fortunate in my life to have a son, but should I have been, I would have been proud if he had turned out like you."

Ezra chuckled, took her hand, and kissed her cheek. "You do me honor."

Gertrude stepped back and slowly made her way to the porch. She grasped her sister's hand and stood beside her.

"You be careful getting back, Ezra," Jane said, and watched him mount.

He tipped his hat, and smiled. She had stitched his trousers, cleaned his boots, and reattached buttons to his shirt and jacket, and she had found his hat two days ago, caught between the branches of a tree that had been caught in the roots near the water's edge. Ezra turned his horse and guided him north.

"You okay?" Jane asked, pulling Gertrude into a hug.

"Yeah," she said. "I am."

It was near dusk when Ezra rode up to the livery. The night fires were already burning, and most of the town's citizens were inside, avoiding the cold. Lanterns glowed through windows. He smiled when he spotted Trouble eating contently in his stall. The barn smelled of hay, straw, leather, and shit. The familiar scents brought a smile to his face as he tied Peso to the hitching rail and proceeded to remove his tack. He slipped into the stall next to the palomino, fed him some hay, and checked the bucket of water. He gave him one last pat before laying the halter over the hook next to the stall door.

He wiped his brow, feeling the length of the day and the tightening of his chest. Still healing, he closed the livery door and walked to the saloon.

Chris stepped through the batwing doors and lit his cheroot. He shook the match and then tossed it onto the street. He looked up and stopped.

"Mr. Larabee."

"Ezra," Chris said, looking him up and down. Ezra was pale, thin, and bruised. A smile tugged the corners of Chris' mouth, but he fought it. He took a puff and let the smoke escape from his nostrils. "It's good to have you back." He nodded once and then stepped off the boardwalk. His duster flapped against his legs as he walked toward the sheriff's office shaking his head.

Ezra chuckled, and then pushed the door open.

"Ezra?"

The End