Ezra was finding it challenging to open his eyes. He'd tried a few times, but they closed quickly in reaction to the brightness of the room. He chose to ignore JD's pleas for him to wake up, deciding he was far too tired to make any such effort. Later, when the room was darker, lit by a combination of lantern and sunset, he tried once again to rouse himself. Josiah was the voice this time, encouraging him with little success. The third time the lantern was the only source of light, and the voice left him no option.
"OPEN YOUR DAMNED EYES EZRA." Ignoring an order from Chris Larabee was a fool's choice, and Ezra was no fool.
"Might you lower your voice in deference to the pounding in my head sir?"
"You gonna stay awake this time?"
"I shall make the effort."
"Then I'll lower my voice."
"Ezra – you awake; you really awake?"
Chris growled. "Stop yelling at him JD – man has a headache the size of Josiah!"
"Both of you shut up." Nathan stepped up beside the bed. "Take it slow Ezra. Want you to try to drink a bit. You're pretty dehydrated."
"I don't think what I take in will stay in Mr. Jackson."
"We'll just keep doing it a tablespoon at a time. This book I'm reading tells me that is a good way to get water into an unconscious person. Reflexes let them swallow a bit at a time. Really good book."
"I'm gonna let the other know."
"JD, tell 'em. But tell 'em no visiting yet. I need to look him over, and I betting he'll be asleep again before I'm done. They can see him in the morning."
"Not too early Mr. Dunne."
"OK Ez – not too early." JD's grin lit the room more than any oil lamp could hope to do.
M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7
It was a week before Ezra sat outdoors again. Josiah had carried him downstairs, much to his humiliation. It was worth it though to feel the sun on his face. He'd asked to be settled somewhere quiet, away from sight of the townspeople. Ezra was not ready to face them yet. Nevertheless, here he sat, on the veranda of the saloon, where virtually every soul in town was passing that day.
He remained mortified and embarrassed by all that had happened. That so many lives had been put at risk because of a disturbed man's quest for imagined vengeance. It was, Ezra maintained, only by the the kindness of the fates that no serious harm had come to anyone because of Holmes's obsession. He had finally summoned the courage to ask Mary what tales had been told about his early years, about his time with Holmes. She dismissed him, saying no one paid any attention to the rantings of an obvious madman. Ezra wished with all his heart he could believe that.
"Morning Ezra." "So good to see you up and about Mr. Standish." "Looks like you're recovering nicely Standish." "Mr. Ezra – can you show us a card trick – please?" Nathan remained close by making sure his patient didn't try to stand to greet every lady who walked by, and to discourage the children from pestering him for tricks. He practically had to tie him down when Chris came by riding Chaucer.
"Honest to God Ezra, I do not understand how you manage this beast. He's tried to throw me twice today. Sent JD flying yesterday."
"He simply requires the right touch, the right words. Isn't that right Chaucer?" The horse ignored Chris's handling and walked up to the railing, reaching his head out to meet Ezra's hand. With one arm in a sling it was difficult to maneuver, but Ezra managed to give a gentle rub behind the ears that had the steed all but purring.
"Nope – do not understand the relationship the two of you have." Chris dismounted and tossed the reins around the railings, knowing as long as Ezra was there Chaucer wouldn't budge.
"You're looking pretty good Pard." Vin pulled a chair up next to him.
"So I keep hearing. Given the way I feel I find that difficult to accept."
"Feeling poorly again Ezra?" Nathan leaned forward quickly, setting his text aside.
"No, Mr. Jackson, I simply mean I am bruised, battered, broken, and bloody. I would add tired, but cannot think of a synonym that begins with the letter 'b'."
"Bushed," Buck provided.
"Excellent. Thank you."
Nathan eyed him critically before settling back again. "OK, but the minute I see you wince, you go back upstairs."
"I do appreciate the warning." Nathan picked up the book again, but kept glancing back.
"Mr. Larabee – the 6 men JD said were in the jail?"
"On their way to prison Ezra. Enough witnesses that there really wasn't much need of a trial. Saved themselves from the noose by admitting everything they knew."
"Which did not include what Holmes wanted in the first place, aside from seeing Ezra dead."
Ezra sat quietly for a minute. Just as Nathan was once again ready to go into Mother Hen mode, the gambler started laughing. He held his side to try to lessen the pain, but couldn't seem to stop himself from shaking.
"What the hell – is he OK Nathan?"
"Relax – gentlemen." Ezra forced himself to calm down to still the panic he saw on everyone's faces. "I assure you – I am fine." A moment later he had his breathing under control again. The pain subsided to a degree, but he knew his brief bout with borderline hysteria was going to cost him at least one extra day in bed.
"I apologize for causing concern, but the absurdity of it all is simply too perfect."
"OK Nathan, those hits to the head were obviously worse than you thought."
"No, Mr. Wilmington – "
"For God's sake Ez – call me Buck."
"When you can pronounce both syllables of my name, I shall revert to your preferred moniker."
"That go for all of us – Ez-RA?"
"I suppose it could – Christopher." He suppressed a smile at the growl he heard.
"So what was so damn funny that you practically ripped out all the stitches I put in you?"
"The stage. He was waiting for the stage."
"But there was nothing special on it." JD thought back to the items Ezra had purchased. "Leastwise, nothing he'd see as special."
"It's not what was on it, it was what should have been on it. How he found out I suppose I shall never know, but there was a traveller scheduled to arrive, who's plans were changed just a few days prior to her departure."
"Her departure? You mean…?"
"Precisely Chris. Mother was scheduled to be on that stage, but cancelled as I was not going to be here, given I was to be at the poker game so elaborately dreamt up by Mr. Holmes."
"Hang on Ezra," Vin was having a hard time wrapping his mind around just how ridiculous this was. "He sets all this up to be able to see, or whatever, Maude, and ends up creating the very thing that kept her from coming?"
"Exactly Vin. I do not believe I have ever encountered a finer example of irony. All his efforts for naught."
"Came too damn close to his second goal – killing you."
"Yes, I suppose that would have had to satisfy him. I almost wish the afternoon had dragged on long enough to witness the arrival of the stage, with no mother."
"Yeah, problem there Ez is he likely would have kept beating on you in the meantime, and you wouldn't have seen much, being dead and all."
"True enough Mr. Wilmington. Perhaps it did all work out for the best."
"Dammit Ezra!"
"Yes Buck?" The mustached man sighed in exasperation, while Ezra grinned, then yawned, trying unsuccessfully to hide if from the others.
"That's it – you're done for day."
"Mr. Jackson, you said I would be required to retire to my bed if you saw me wince. That, sir, was a yawn. An entirely different social faux-pas."
"He's got you there Nathan." JD chuckled.
"Mr. Standish?" Ezra looked over at the new arrival, young Mr. Collins, the 8-year-old son of the telegraph operator. "You got a telegram sir," he said solemnly, handing the paper over. Ezra awkwardly tried to reach into his pocket for tipping change, but Chris handed over a coin before he could manage the act. "Thanks Mr. Larabee," the youngster called, running off to the mercantile in search of candy.
"Indeed, my gratitude as well." He fumbled slightly with the paper before getting it unfolded. "Oh my, no," he groaned.
"That don't sound promising."
"Doesn't, Buck, and you are correct. It would appear my telegram to 'King' Walker enquiring about the legitimacy of the poker tournament has motivated him to create just such an occurrence. Six weeks hence."
"I would have thought that was good news for you son. Now you'll get your game."
Ezra went quiet again, not responding to Josiah. He gazed into the distance while the others cast nervous looks back and forth, once again considering the possibility Ezra would be leaving them.
"I do not believe I will elect to participate in the event. The travel might prove exhausting, given my present state."
As much as he hated to encourage the gambler, Nathan couldn't let him believe a falsehood. "Really don't think it would be much of a problem Ezra. You keep healing like you are, and taking it easy, and in 6 weeks you should be able to handle the ride."
JD shot a dirty look at the healer. Why would he be encouraging the man to leave? Then he gave it a second thought, realizing it was selfish to try to keep him away from something he loved doing so much. And that after Ezra'd been thoughtful enough to get the nifty hat stand for him. The young man felt a bit ashamed of himself, and reluctantly made an offer. "I could ride with you if you need company."
"I appreciate the advice, and the offer, however such extended rest would hinder my ability to perform my assigned duties, and likely slow my return after the fact as well. That would not be fair to the rest of you."
"We can work it out Ezra. If you want to do this, we can work the schedule out." Chris too was reluctant to encourage him, but needed him to understand they all wanted him to have this special experience. They'd seen his disappointment in Lancing Falls, and seen the ultimate sacrifice he'd nearly made in the saloon. Whatever he wanted was just fine by them.
Ezra had not returned his gaze to the team, listening instead to their words. They were willing to let him go. Anxious in fact. He'd been correct in his concerns. His departure would be welcomed, and who could blame them after the nightmare he had brought to the town. He forced a smile to his face and looked at the others. It took only a few seconds for him to read their faces. Those smiles of encouragement were every bit as forced as his own. He only hoped he disguised his a bit better.
He focused on Nathan. "You do not want me to go the game, do you?"
"Not my place to tell you what to do, unless it messes with your recovery."
"Regardless, you don't WANT me to go. I know it isn't that you disapprove of my gambling. You know this to be an honest game with will participants who can afford their losses. So, there must be an alternate objection."
Turning to JD, he didn't even have to ask. The look was clear on his face.
"The rest of you gentlemen feel the same. You are concerned for the trouble I will get into, and that I will bring it back to our town yet again."
"Hell, no Ezra – that ain't it. Nobody blames you for what happened with Holmes. We all got people who would like to see us dead. If we didn't before we came to Four Corners, we've sure made enemies since. Stop beating yourself up about all that."
"Easier said than done Buck, although the thought is appreciated." He decided against dwelling on the subject. "It really doesn't factor into the decision gentlemen. Six weeks is simply insufficient time for all that would be required. Even if I am well enough to travel, actually playing the game with a barely recovered broken arm and the lingering discomfort of other injuries would make for a long and likely brutally painful session."
Vin looked at him, guilt evident on his face. "You've sat through a lot worse for a lot less. I know you don't want to say it Ezra, but fact is there is no way you can get together the money you need to buy into this. Might have been able to get a few hundred that fast, but around here, $1000 is out of reach. And you've got nothing left to sell."
"I believe we discussed this at the time. It was my money to do with as I pleased, and what I was able to do pleased me greatly. There will be no further mention of the matter."
"I can sell my wagon. Don't know that I'd get much, but there'd be something. Need my mare's leg, but I have a couple of other guns…"
"Mr. Tanner, if you even suggest such an asinine action again, it shall result in the abrupt and irreversible termination of our relationship. You can no more sell your guns than I could part with my lucky deck. I believe I indicated this conversation is concluded." Vin lowered his head, and Ezra pulled himself forward in the chair, wincing sharply but ignoring the pain. "Vin, please. Let it go. I do not for a moment regret my choice. I never will. There is no game, no venture, that would have been worth anything other than what I did. Can you not accept that from me? That friendship means more than money?"
Looking at the almost pleading quest for understanding in those green eyes, Vin suddenly understood exactly what Ezra was asking for. He reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder, settling the weakened man back in his seat.
"I'm sorry Ezra. I never meant to offend you by suggesting anything like that. None of us put a price on friendship. Don't expect you do either. Thank you for what you did. I won't say it again."
No one knew what else to say. Chris found his voice first. "Speaking of money," Chris spoke, opening to break the awkward silence.
"Please don't Chris. I believe that subject has been exhausted."
"Not quite Ezra. Seems there was quite a bounty on your friend Mr. Holmes. He had four murder charges against him, along with a bunch of other folk offering up rewards. Total on his head comes to just under $1700. Now we all figured the man who fired the first shot to bring him down is the one entitled to the reward. And we decided nobody was gonna argue about that, didn't we boys?"
"Seventeen hundred? Really? But surely you gentlemen –"
"Did you not hear the 'no argument' part of that sentence?"
He nodded in acquiescence "Well that is an impressive sum. I would assume such bounties, coming from many and divergent sources will take quite some time be collected."
"Talked to the judge about that when he was in town. He already signed a note for the bank, guaranteeing the money is coming, so they can advance you what you need for the game. You got no reason not to go Ezra. You were going to do it a couple weeks back, and nothing has really changed since. What happens after is a discussion for that time, not now."
Ezra looked around with tired eyes. Chris was wrong, he realized. He had six excellent reasons not to go to this game, and many more very good ones when you added Mary, Inez, Nettie, Casey, Mrs. Potter and so on, and so on.
He barely stifled another yawn as the day caught up to him once again. He gave a small nod to Nathan, who read the cue correctly and stood to help his friend back to the comfort of a feather bed. As he made the move to rise, Josiah stood and was at his side in a moment, with Buck close behind.
"Gentlemen, while I appreciate and accept all you have had to say, I fear I will have to issue a negative reply to Mr. Walker's invitation."
"You sure Ezra?" JD spoke tentatively. "That's one awful lot of money to pass up."
"You assume I would emerge triumphant from the contest."
"Course you would." The young man had infinite confidence in his friend.
"But the question arises JD – why on earth would I need $25,000 here in Four Corners? Utter folly."
He reluctantly allowed Josiah pick him up and head off for a comforting rest. The last sight he registered as he closed his eyes on the way to his room above the saloon was a wide smile spreading of JD`s face.
The End
Thanks once again for taking your time to read this, and for all the amazing support. You people are wickedly good for my ego!
Working on a couple more stories (for both Old West and ATF worlds). Hope to have something ready soon, as long as I don't get distracted by things like my job and housework! (That will never happen!)