Thank you for the reviews! You make my day so bright-even when it's horribly gray and rainy here!
It was noon before the storm moved on and the rain tapered off, leaving a wet , muddy mess behind. Chris decided they needed to check out the burned settlement and took Vin and Ezra with him.
"You sure you should take Ez?" Buck had questioned quietly before they'd ridden out.
Chris had merely glared. "Better to keep an eye on him. I need the rest of you to keep order here."
Word of the fire was spreading through town quickly and settlers were obviously agitated at the news. It was hard enough having so many extra people in town, adding worry and fear to the mix only upped the need for a strong sense of order. Chris hoped that the Seven of them could pull it off.
They rode in silence, carefully steering their mounts along the rutted muddy path. The air was cool but comfortable.
Chris caught Vin shooting the occasional concerned glance at Ezra but for his part, the Southerner appeared content and calm.
"Any theories?" Chris asked, directing his question at both of the men.
They were passing another homestead currently under construction. The family obviously living out of the two covered wagons set up under two large trees. Lumber was piled high beside a half finished frame for a small home. Two small children splashed in fresh puddles while their mother struggled to keep a weak campfire going.
The children spotted the peacekeepers and stopped their play to start at the strangers passing by. Their sudden quiet alerted their mother. She abandoned the struggling flames and took three steps closer to her children, placing herself between them and the mounted men.
Ezra tipped his hat and the lady's face lit with recognition. She smiled, her posture relaxing and raised her hand in a small wave. The children, following her cue, waved exuberantly.
Vin chuckled and waved back. "Could have been lightning," he offered the suggestion again once they were out of sight of the women and children. "Need to check it out though."
They passed two more new homesteads along the trail in various stages of development before they reached the burned out property. Pulling to a stop, they stared at the devastation.
Vin caught the anger in Larabee's expression, the memories. "You alright?" he asked.
"Yeah," Chris answered too quickly.
Ezra offered a small stiff shrug as Larabee dismounted, then carefully slid off his own horse.
"And you?" Tanner questioned Standish, recognizing the physical care the southerner was taking.
"Quite fine, Mr. Tanner."
Vin doubted the truth of either answer, but didn't push the subject.
They split up as they checked out the property.
Once a home in progress, the whole acreage had been scorched bare. The frame was nothing but a pile of sodden ash. The earth was black where the flames had raced across the grass, burning everything in their path.
"Were they living in wagons?" Chris asked.
"According to Mr. Dunne, yes," Ezra answered. He removed his hat and rubbed absently at his aching head, oblivious that he was telegraphing his discomfort to the others. "The Johnstons had enough time to escape the flames, but it was a close call- the wagon shows signs of being singed."
"Where are they now?" Chris kicked a charred clump of wood with disgust.
"Town." Ezra slipped his hat back on.
Chris turned to Vin. "Find anything?"
Shaking his head, Tanner looked around again. "Nothing obvious. Storm's made a mess of it all."
"Could have just been the storm itself." Chris sighed.
"Could have."
Unsettled without a definitive answer, Chris waved them back to the horses. "Nothing more we can do here."
The ride back to town was just as quiet as the ride out had been. Ezra knew the other two were watching him. He made a point to sit tall in the saddle despite the ache in his leg and throbbing in his shoulder. They had all witnessed a brilliant display of his weakness already this day, he didn't care to announce another.
He didn't understand what had happened at breakfast. He knew Tom Wyler was dead. He'd been there. He'd felt the man jerk away from him, heard the impact of the bullets and he'd watched the man die, but he would have sworn on his mother that Tom Wyler had sat across the room from him this morning. Was he being haunted? Was he seeing things? God, was he losing his mind?
Ezra glanced at Chris and Vin. How long would they others standby him if they knew he was going insane?
He shook the frightening thoughts away before he started imagining nightmare scenarios of asylums. He couldn't let that happen. Not ever. He'd get through this, he promised himself. He could hold it together long enough for the fear to pass. He would get through it.
Town was bustling by the time the trio returned. The afternoon sun had come out and was already quickly drying out the town. Ezra took his time in the livery, enjoying the task of caring for his horse. He brushed Chaucer thoroughly, using his good arm.
"You'll stick by me, won't you?" he whispered as Chaucer nudged him gently, searching for a treat. "You don't mind that I'm going insane do you?"
Chaucer raised his head and butted Ezra's chest as if to say 'don't be stupid'.
Ezra grinned and rewarded the horse with a sugar cube. "I think you're impossible." He patted Chaucer affectionately.
He turned to go and found Nathan standing at the end of the stall, arms crossed in front of him. "I think you're damn impossible." The healer's voice rose.
Chaucer pranced at the disturbance, but stilled with a reassuring pat from Ezra. Before Standish could worry about how much Nathan had just overheard, Jackson was already ranting.
"I can't believe you went riding so far out. You know you should be taking it easy still."
Ezra raised both hands in a sign of surrender. "I can assure you, it was an easy ride. Mr. Larabee kept a casual pace in deference to my limitations." He didn't really know if that was true, but he had recognized that Larabee had set a much slower pace than he normally rode.
Nathan's eyes narrowed as he tried to ascertain whether or not Ezra was being truthful.
"You're not hurting?" he finally questioned more calmly.
Ezra hesitated just enough for Nathan to roll his eyes. "Come on then."
"Where?" Ezra followed despite the suspicion in his voice.
"To my clinic. I got some liniment that might help the ache in both your shoulder and your leg." He waved an arm in Ezra's direction. "And don't even try to deny they're bothering ya."
Twenty minutes and one familiar lecture later, Ezra was carefully making his way down the steps outside Jackson's clinic, a small tin of liniment in his possession. He knew Jackson meant well. The healer was still dealing with the guilt of not coming to Ezra's aid immediately. Of course,Nathan hadn't known it was Ezra who'd been injured but no matter how many times he was reminded, Jackson still seemed to take on Ezra's injuries as if he himself were responsible.
It was an effort to appear casual on the stairs instead of cautious. Between the long ride and the climb up to the clinic, Ezra's leg was dragging, but he did the best he could. His stomach growled noisily as he finally reached the last step and settled on solid ground, reminding him that it'd been hours since his meager breakfast. Though he didn't feel a real desire, he knew he needed to eat.
He started across the road, glancing up toward the saloon and a group of strangers on the walkway. One paused and glanced his way.
Ezra froze in pace, his breath stolen by fear as he stared again at Tom Wyler. He tried to remind himself it wasn't possible, but it was too late.
Hands were on him, pushing, hitting. Feet kicked and stomped at him. The images came instantly. Ezra's knees hit the ground hard as he went down under the onslaught of remembered blows. His eyes, though fixed on where he'd seen Wyler, were now unseeing of anything other than the chaotic assault of memories.
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Chris sighed wearily as he exited the sheriff's office, leaving Josiah inside to guard the new prisoners.
Two of the new settlers, single men who had yet to officially settle on their land, had gotten into a knock-down drag-outfight over one of Inez's girls. Larabee wiped a hand over his face. He'd be more than thankful to get these folks out to their land and staying there, out of town for the most part. Four Corners wasn't big enough for the increased population. Oh, he realized that Mary Travis and a few others were excited over the potential growth the new settlers represented, but all he could see were the problems that came with them.
Turning away from the office, Chris spotted Ezra stepping off the stairs, coming from Nathan's clinic. He'd heard Jackson was upset that he'd taken Ezra out to the Johnston homestead, he'd gotten an earful from the healer while Ezra had still been in the livery, but Standish appeared no worse for wear from the ride.
He watched, frowning as Standish stopped suddenly in the middle of the street. Chris followed Ezra's line of sight, but didn't see anything except a group of men walking along toward the saloon.
He turned back in time to see Ezra collapse onto the muddy road, almost as if someone had knocked the southerner's legs out from under him. Concerned, Chris hurried to Ezra's side.
"Ezra," he called as he approached. "You okay?" Had the gambler's leg injury flared up again? Was he sick? "Ezra?"
Chris reached out, lightly touching Standish's shoulder only to be shocked by Ezra's reaction.
The Gambler scrambled, flinching away even as he lashed out, catching Chris who'd bent over to touch him, with a solid blow to the solar plexus. "Gah, Ezra!" Chris raised his voice and tried to grab Standish, but Ezra struck out again, just missing him.
"Damn."
Ezra heard the one voice, distinct above the blend of the others taunting him but he couldn't focus on it. Someone touched him, his bad shoulder, he couldn't. He would not allow himself to be strung up again. They'd have to kill him this time. He struck out, connecting once with one of them. He heard his name again and something nudged at the back of his mind. He swung again, blindly fighting a foe that was only in his mind. Part of him knew this, but he couldn't stop.
Chris could see that others were noticing Ezra's behavior now. They didn't need a scene. Ezra would be mortified, but he could also see quite clearly the blank, terrified stare in Standish's eyes.
Larabee had heard about such things. Had seen it happen more than once to soldiers after the war. One man had been trapped in a battle long ended, continuing only in his memory.
Ezra wasn't there beside him in Four Corners. He was back on the trail outside of Bainbridge nearly a month ago—when he'd been ambushed and attacked.
Chris saw Vin headed their way with Buck. Wilmington was already misdirecting curious onlookers.
"Ezra!" Chris growled the name, unsure now if he needed to be harsh or gentle as his friend skittered further away from him. "Standish!" He tried one more time, sinking down to his knees, close to Ezra but not touching him.
Ezra seemed to still a moment, his eyes fixed on Chris.
It was like watching the curtain rise on a stage show, as the vacant look in Ezra's eyes was replaced gradually by one of confusion, fear and then pain.
"Chris?" his voice was horse and shaky.
"You back with me now?" Larabee held up his hands to warn Vin back.
Ezra saw the motion and spun around, calming only when he recognized Tanner and Wilmington.
Chris waited for an answer, careful to remain motionless unless Ezra was actually looking at him.
Ezra nodded slowly.
"You have a bad memory?"
Chris' question made Ezra jerk as if he'd been struck, but the Southerner nodded again.
"You alright now?"
As quick as a finger snap, Ezra's whole posture relaxed. He staggered slightly as he rose to his feet. "Nothing a bath and a clean set of clothing can't fix." He flashed a smile that failed to be convincing, and raised two fingers in his customary salute before limping stiffly the rest of the way across the street and into the saloon.
Vin reached out and pulled Chris to his feet. They watched Ezra go with shocked expressions before Buck finally turned to Chris.
"What the hell just happened here?"
TBC...