Snake in the Grass   - the second half

Part 12:

Chris fiddled with the handcuffs as he glared at Wahl. The prisoner was silent for the time being, sporting a bandaged arm and a black eye. Wahl returned his gaze blandly. Chris fixed him with a deadly glare, making the man turn away before the gunslinger returned his attention to Vin. The bleeding had apparently stopped and Vin was still out. Chris had been able to clean the wound and bind it without much trouble. Hopefully it would be enough for the time being. 

Apparently the bullet had not damaged anything important, but it was still in him, still lodged somewhere in that mysterious realm of the human body that held the heart. If it were only someplace less complicated, Chris would have considered going after it himself, but he was afraid to do more damage than good with the chest wound. Besides, Nathan was coming. 

Chris looked again to the direction where Ezra had disappeared. He hoped Standish brought help quickly. If Nathan didn't come soon, Vin would be in a heap of trouble. 

The gunslinger continued to manipulate the handcuffs, opening and closing them, latching and unlatching. They were broken, probably had been from the beginning. Chris was the one who secured them on Wahl. He replayed the moment in his head, remembering that he didn't test the restraints once they were in place. He never gave Ezra a chance to explain.  It was his own fault that Vin was injured now. Why did he get so damn angry with Ezra? 

He's an easy target, Chris thought to himself. He glared again at Wahl, who smiled stupidly back at him.

Wahl would have escaped from any of them that night. He was obviously just waiting until only one of their group was guarding him, when one was vulnerable. Chris had left Ezra alone with an unrestrained prisoner, then he blamed Ezra for the escape. Why did he jump to such stupid conclusions? He was lucky that the gambler was still alive.

Click-click, the handcuffs easily locked and unlocked. He had been angry with Ezra for over a week now, ever since the con man failed to return on schedule, finally showing up a day late with the wagon and the bodies. The anger grew from the deaths, the senseless murders, but it attached itself to the gambler. Ezra was just so indifferent about all of it. He seemed hardly bothered, untouched by the deaths.

Now that he had time to think, Chris realized his own misjudgment. He should have realized that Ezra's way of dealing with such things was different than the rest of them. Ezra would distance himself from anything that might cause him emotional harm. It was the same thing in regard to Wahl. What Chris originally took for lack of concern, was the southerner's way of not getting himself wrapped up in something that he couldn't help. Chris should have known that. Should have thought of that sooner. The murders of the McCannons and presence of Wahl just seemed to ignite a fuse that had blown his common sense straight to hell.

He continued to gaze in the direction of home. He knew help was coming soon. He had no doubt that Ezra would bring Nathan as quickly as humanly possible. His thoughts were broken again by Wahl.

"He's not comin' back," the prisoner declared.

"Shut yer hole," Chris growled.

"I should know," Wahl said with confidence. "That's the last you'll ever see of that 'un."

Chris glared at Wahl. "He'll come back," he said confidently.

"I wouldn't." Wahl leaned forward. "I mean, if I'd figured I might be attacked, I wouldn't come back. You can bet he wouldn't."

"You don't know anything about him," Chris countered. 

Wahl snorted and rubbed his bruised eye with his bound hands. 

Chris glanced over at the horses that he had managed to once again collect. At least they hadn't gone too far this time. He'd discovered how they were able to catch up to their prisoner. Job had thrown a shoe. 

The gunslinger was glad to have his horse back, but what he wanted more than anything was for Nathan to appear. What’s taking so long?

Chris stood when he saw a cloud of dust in the distance. He moved out of the protection of the rocks and waved to the approaching wagon. It angled toward him and he went back to check on Vin. 

"I still think he's gonna die," Wahl said, looking at the pale tracker. Chris considered giving Wahl a matching shiner, but realized that it would do no good. It wouldn't shut up the man. The wagon pulled along side his position and Nathan leaped out. 

"How is he?" The healer asked quickly.

"He hasn't come around yet," Chris told him as Nathan pulled back the bandage. "I don't think it hit his heart, but it's dang close." 

"You did a good job," Nathan said, examining the wound. He pulled out the supplies from his medical bag. "Josiah, I need you here, now. Buck, you stay put," he called as he sterilized the necessary tools with whiskey. 

The preacher jumped down from wagon and Nathan directed him to help hold down the tracker in case he awoke. Chris frowned, wondering why Buck was told to stay with the wagon. Where was JD? Where the hell was Ezra? Nathan signaled that he needed Chris' help as well. There was no time to ponder anything else.

The healer was quick but meticulous in his work. It took a skilled knife to cut down to the location of the bullet, lodged between the upper ribs. Vin stirred during the operation, groaning.

"Hold him!" Nathan ordered as he worked to reach the bullet.  "Looks like he's broke a couple ribs, too."

Chris watched Nathan's face. The healer's forehead furrowed in concentration, his eyes narrowed with concern. Chris could see the little beads of perspiration form on Jackson's forehead as he leaned over the wound. He used a cloth to blot up the blood that had started to flow again, clearing the area so he could see. Nathan picked up his forceps and reached into Vin's chest to extract the bullet. The semi-conscious tracker arched his back and tried to fight his way out of Chris and Josiah's grasp as Nathan pulled out the spent slug.

"That's it," he said, wiping the sweat away from his face, as he pressed against the wound with the cloth. "He's damn lucky. Didn't hit anything vital.  Just gotta be awful careful about that rib." 

Vin's eye shot open as Nathan sterilized the wound with whiskey. "Ahhhhgggg!" he screamed, trying to bolt from under the hands of his friends. Josiah and Chris held him tight, with Nathan throwing his weight into the fracas as well.

Chris uttered, "We got cha, cowboy."

Vin stared at him for a moment before his eyes closed again and Nathan began packing the wound. Chris watched as Nathan quickly completed the task. It was only then that he realized that Wahl had been talking.

The prisoner had watched the whole procedure in fascination, commenting throughout, but nobody seemed to have heard him. Finally, seeing Chris looking at him, he said. "I still say he's gonna die."

"Josiah," the healer directed once he was done. "Let’s get Vin into the wagon. Let's get goin' -- we gotta hurry."

Chris stood slowly and looked at the two men in disbelief as Nathan and Josiah gently picked up the tracker and moved quickly. Vin moaned as they pulled him into the wagon. Chris grabbed the rope that secured the prisoner and pulled him along.

"What's going on?" the gunslinger asked as he approached the rear of the wagon. "What's the rush? Shouldn't we let him rest a bit?" They had just settled Vin on the left side of the wagon. The gunslinger was shocked to see Buck sitting with Ezra on the other side.


Part 13:

Wilmington looked worriedly down on the gambler as Chris appeared at the wagon. Ezra lay with his eyes tightly shut, breathing raggedly and mumbling incoherently.

Chris looked urgently toward Nathan. "My God, what happened?"

Nathan frowned deeply. "Snakebite."

Chris looked thunderstruck for a moment until Wahl broke off in a fit of laughter.

"Tell 'em," Wahl chortled. "Tell 'em what you found!"

Chris drew back to strike the prisoner, but the man crumpled to the ground in hysterical glee.

"Tell 'em about that broken-back rattler that you killed!" Wahl giggled.

Chris met Nathan's puzzled gaze. "I found a rattlesnake," he said in a low voice. "Looked like somethin' hit it pretty hard."

Nathan climbed into the back of the wagon and stared at Chris in disbelief. "What're you saying? You mean it didn't happen on the trail? Ezra got bit here? While you were with him?"

Wahl continued to laugh, pounding the dirt with his bound fists. "He made him go. Threatened him. Just about shot 'im if you ask me."

Chris jerked Wahl to his feet and dragged him roughly to the front of the wagon where Josiah had taken his seat. He let Josiah yank Wahl into place and then bound him to the front of the vehicle.

Wahl continued to laugh throughout. "You killed him," the prisoner snickered.

Chris fixed Wahl with a look of pure hatred. "Gag him, Josiah."

"It would be a pleasure," the preacher responded as he pulled off his dusty bandana and tied it around the prisoner's gaping mouth.

Chris quickly gathered the horses and tied them to the back of the wagon before he, too, joined the others in the back, then Josiah put the wagon in motion.

Buck was sitting with his back to the driver, and Ezra's head in his lap, trying to keep him still in the rocking wagon. He wet down a cloth to wipe the gambler's sweating face, speaking quietly to him as he worked.

Nathan sat between his two patients. He quickly checked to see that Vin's bandage remained in place and the wound had not reopened during the move. Then he turned to Ezra.

"How's he doin'?" Nathan asked.

Buck looked disconsolate. "I think he's getting worse." He listened for a moment before he applied the cloth again to Ezra's forehead. "Havin' trouble breathin'." He looked to Chris as the gunslinger settled himself by the legs of his two wounded men.

"I never should brought him along," Nathan muttered. "Should'a sent him back to town."

Chris shook his head slowly. How could this have happened?  "I didn't know," he said softly. "Why didn't he say anything?"

He saw Wahl turn around in his seat, but unable to speak. He just grinned through the gag.

"Vin," Ezra gasped, his eyes still squeezed shut. "Vin? Is he...?

"Shush, now," Buck said. "No more talking. We got 'im. You just be quiet."

The gambler's eyes fluttered open for a moment and he smiled slightly. "Alive?" he managed to say.

Nathan leaned over Ezra, resting a hand gently on his heaving chest. "He's gonna be fine. You do like Buck said. Stop talking." 

"S'hard," Ezra replied, his eyes starting to close.

"What, it's hard to stop talking?" Buck asked lightly. "I always knew that about you."

"S'hard ...to breathe," Ezra wheezed.

"I know," Nathan said sadly. "That's the poison. You gotta stop talkin'. Lay still now."

Ezra partially opened his eyes, to glare at Nathan before they fluttered shut again.

"Nathan?" Chris asked, fixing the healer with a meaningful glance.

Nathan understood the unasked question, would Ezra live? He shrugged in reply. "He's in a lot of pain right now. It's probably just gonna get worse. I've done all I can for him medically, which isn't much. I'm no doctor. There's not a whole lot I can give him that wouldn't cause him more harm that good." He took Ezra's pulse again and frowned at the rapidity of it. "He's just gonna have to fight for a while."

"What are his chances?" Chris asked.

Nathan saw Ezra look up at him again, and try to focus.

"Well?" the gambler demanded between breaths.

"You're gonna be fine. Just try to keep calm. It's very important that you don't get yourself excited," Nathan told him.

"Calm," Ezra muttered sarcastically. "Excited..." 

Nathan waited until Ezra's eyes closed before he looked to Chris. The gunslinger could easily read the true answer in the healer's face. Ezra's chances weren't good.

"How'd Wahl get that black eye?" Nathan asked, wanting to change the subject.

Chris shook his head in disgust. "Something he said."

Nathan nodded, realizing that Chris didn't want to go any further. "How 'bout that knot Ezra's got on his head?"

"Wahl," Chris responded, frowning. Chris had forgotten about that. "Concussion?"

"No," Ezra answered, looking disgusted.

Nathan turned his attention back to Vin. At least there was something he could do for the tracker. He was surprised to see Vin looking up at him.

"Welcome back, Vin," Nathan greeted. "How ya feelin'?"

"That's a hell of a question," Vin croaked. "What happened?"

"You got shot," Chris replied.

"Damn," the tracker said. "So that's what that was. I's thinkin' maybe I got run over by a buffalo." He grimaced and them seemed to remember something. "Wahl?" 

"Yeah, he's the one that gotcha," Chris told him. "We got 'im now though."

Vin's eyes closed halfway. "Ya kill 'im?"

"Nah," Chris said, glaring at Wahl's back. "Figured we'd let the court do that." Wahl turned toward him for a moment and then faced forward again.

Vin smiled and then looked puzzled. "What's that sound?"

Nathan moved so that Vin could see Ezra, propped up in Buck's lap. His ragged breathing sounded so peculiar in the confines of the wagon. The tracker’s eyes grew large.  "Ah, hell! What happened?" Vin asked.

"Snake," Buck replied.

"Ezra?" Vin called, his face registering shock and sorrow. Ezra's distant eyes opened again and he glanced over at Vin. His lips twitched in an attempt at a smile before his eyes closed again and he continued with the effort of breathing.

Nobody said anything as the wagon continued at its way back to Four Corners. The sound of the gambler, gasping for oxygen, was enough to silence them all.


Part 14:

JD waited impatiently at the clinic. He'd boiled water, turned down the bed, set up a cot, checked to see that there were plenty of bandages and went in search of more. He'd run to the restaurant to order food to be sent up, made a pot of coffee, and then finally sat down at Nathan's table and started thumbing through several of the books that the healer had left there, not able to read any of them. 

It was nearly dark when he heard the wagon come to a halt outside. He flung open the door to the clinic as Buck and Josiah gently carried Vin up the stairs, followed by Chris and Nathan with Ezra. The young man looked in disbelief at his two friends. Vin's face was drawn up in a grimace of pain as he was lowered onto the cot. Ezra was very pale, his hair matted to his head and gasping for breath as he was carefully carried into the room. He looked much worse than the last time JD had seen him. 

Chris said, "JD, I need you to look after the prisoner." 

"But, Chris..." JD started. 

"You're the sheriff," Chris said as he gently lay Ezra in the bed. "Get Wahl locked up. You be damn careful with that bastard." 

JD took one last look at his friends before he ran down the stairs to find Edgar Wahl, gagged, with a black eye, a bandaged arm and tied to the wagon seat. Wahl looked back at him, a smile on his gagged mouth. The young man's mouth drew tight as he glared back at the man, as he thought of Vin and Ezra in the clinic. That's all Wahl's fault, he thought. 

"You're comin' with me," JD said sternly. "And don't you try nothin', 'cause I swear I'll shoot you dead. I didn't make no promises to the Judge." 

He drew his weapon before he untied Wahl and then dragged him quickly toward the jail. Wahl followed without much resistance. JD passed one of the townspeople on the way.

"Mr. Green," JD said, pausing for a moment. "How'd ya like to give me a hand?"

Jed Green, a shopkeeper with aspirations of greatness, looked at the sheriff and then to the prisoner. "Depends," he replied.

"Come on," JD said, pulling the prisoner along with him. Green followed suspiciously.

Wahl hummed through his gag as he was dragged into the jail and laughed as he was shoved into the cell. When the door slammed behind him he looked back at the sheriff in surprise. The prisoner held his bound hands out in front of him, careful not to lift his damaged arm too high. He cocked his head, waiting to be untied. 

"Ya just gotta keep an eye on him," JD said to Green. "Just for a bit." 

Green chewed his lip and looked skeptically at Wahl. "What if he tries to gets out? What am I s'pose to do anyhow?" 

JD sighed, exasperated. "Just give me a few minutes, okay? I gotta check on my friends." 

"Somepin wrong?" Green asked. 

JD nodded. "Yeah, they got Vin and Ezra in the clinic. They got hurt pretty bad. I just wanna go see 'em. Make sure they're okay. Look, I'm not even gonna untie him. You just gotta stand here and make sure he don't get antsy."

"Mr. Tanner and Mr. Standish got themselves hurt?" Green asked, concerned. "This fella here got anything to do with that?" 

JD shrugged. "Don't know the whole story. I just gotta go check on 'em. You'll help me, won't cha?" The sheriff handed Green one of his cherished Colts. "This might make ya feel better about it." 

Green nodded, taking pistol and holding it on Wahl. The prisoner lowered his tied hands and backed toward the bed at the rear of the cell. "You go on there, Mr. Dunne. You make sure those two men are fine. I'll keep an eye on things here." 

JD smiled nervously. "Don't you go shootin' him while I'm gone."


Part 15:

JD burst back into the clinic. Chris, standing between the two beds, turned to him and gave him a look.

"It's okay," JD said. "I got 'im locked in the cell. Had Pat and Eddie from the livery come for the horses, too."

"Don't you leave Wahl alone," Chris ordered darkly.

"He's not," JD replied. "I got Jed Green lookin' after him. 'Sides, I figured I'd leave him tied for a while."

"You left him tied up after you locked him in?" Buck asked. 

JD nodded. "Figured it would be easier. I wanted to get back." 

"Leave the gag on?" Josiah asked.

JD again nodded and grinned. "Didn't think he had anything worth listenin' to." He looked to Ezra and fell silent. Finally he asked, "Why's he breathing like that?" 

"Snake venom shuts down a victim's body," Nathan said straightforwardly. "Tries to suffocate it." 

JD squatted down beside Ezra's bed and put his hand on the gambler's raised shoulder. They had propped him up on a pile of pillows to help him breath easier. "He's gonna be all right, ain't he?" 

"Certainly," Ezra said between gasps. He opened his eyes again and looked up toward JD. "No worry." And then after a minute, "Chaucer?" His voice caught as he said the name.

"He's fine, Ezra. I brought him right to the livery and brushed him down myself," JD said quickly. "He's just fine."

Ezra smiled as he wheezed, "Good...'fraid I'd. .... killed 'im."

JD looked helplessly to Nathan who did not look very reassuring.

"Come on," Buck said to JD. "You can't leave Jed in charge of that Wahl. Jed's as jumpy as a cat. Let's you and I take the watch." Buck sighed as he looked at his two friends. He would rather stay. He didn't want to leave, but there were too many people in the room already and there was a job that needed to be done.

Buck stood beside Vin for a moment. Their eyes met and the tracker nodded. Vin was hurt, but it looked like he was going to be just fine. Buck turned to the other bed.

"Ez," Wilmington called.

"Buck," Standish managed. 

Buck didn't know what to say. He gently lay his hand on the man's chest, feeling it rising and falling and hearing that struggle that went with that motion. "You keep going, okay? Don't cha give up."

"Nevah," Ezra promised. 

Buck looked down at the young sheriff, still beside Ezra's bed. JD looked so confused and anguished. 

"Come on," Buck said again.

JD stood slowly, reluctantly leaving Ezra's side. He walked toward the cot. Josiah was helping Vin sit up while Nathan fed him a cup of tea. "Vin?"

"Yeah, JD," The tracker weakly said between sips.

"You're okay, aren't cha?"

The tracker smiled reassuringly. "I'll be fine," he said and glanced sidelong at Ezra. "We'll both be okay," he asked hopefully. Ezra sure as hell better be okay, Vin thought.

JD nodded and let Buck lead him out of the clinic.

Nathan tended to Vin, making sure he was comfortable. The bandage was still clean and the wound hadn't reopened. A slight fever had set in, but the willow bark tea would help with that. Jackson wished he had something similar to give to his other patient.

Nathan had never personally tended to a victim of snakebite before, but he had heard about it from the other stretcher-bearers during the war. In the evenings, when they had sat around the campfire, talking about things they had seen, snakebite would eventually come up. It was always a gruesome subject. What Nathan had heard wasn't promising. The various cures seemed to have little effect. Spurge seemed to help in some cases. Alcohol killed. It seemed to boil down to one thing. The patient either lived or died. If the snake had fed recently, thus depleting its venom, then there was hope. If the snake were hungry, then, Ezra would probably die.

Nathan sighed, hoping for a well-fed viper. He turned to Vin. "How ya feelin'?"

"Like hell," the tracker replied. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "Nate, what ya put in that punch?"

"Something for the fever," Nathan explained.

"Yeah, I bet ya just want me asleep. Can't stand this place." He looked back toward Ezra and sighed. "How'd it happen? How'd he get bit?"

"My fault," Chris said soberly.

"Why?" Vin asked with a yawn, "You bite him?"

"Pretty near," Chris replied.

"Exaggera...tion," Ezra mumbled.

Vin looked to Chris and asked, "He went to get help for me?"

Chris nodded in response.

Vin looked worried as he gazed at the gambler. "You hang in there, Ez."

"'Course," was the labored reply.

Vin was beginning to drift off, looking sleepily around the room. "I think I'll get me some shut-eye," Vin said to no one in particular as he closed his eyes.

Nathan watched as Vin fell asleep and then looked again toward Ezra. The gambler had wound his hands into the sheets and was tugging uselessly at the cloth. Nathan took his pulse again - too damn fast.

Nathan spoke quietly, "I'm gonna have to change the dressing, Ezra. You up to it?"

Ezra's unfocused eyes opened and tried to find the healer. "Necessary?" he gasped.

"Yeah, 'fraid so," Nathan said. "We can't let this get infected, Ezra. Snakebites go putrid real easy if they don't get tended right." He waited. Ezra blinked and nodded weakly.

"Okay, hang on just a minute," Nathan said, grabbing the necessary supplies and set them down on the bed stand. The healer looked to Chris and Josiah, saying, "You two are gonna have to hold him still."

The precaution wasn't necessary this time, because Ezra was almost rigid during the procedure. Chris watched as the gambler dug his hands deeper into the sheets. Chris abandoned trying to weigh him down, and unburied Ezra's hand. Larabee was surprised how much strength the gambler still had as he felt the gambler grip him.

Ezra gasping increased in speed. Nathan worked hurriedly to clean the wound and reapply a new plaster of spurge. Chris could see the healer was desperate to perform this act as quickly as possible.

"Ezra...Ezra," Chris said, using his free hand to smooth the hair away from the stricken man's forehead. "Easy now, he's almost done. You gotta calm yourself down." Ezra's tearing eyes opened and tried to fix on him before they closed again.

"It's all right, brother," Josiah crooned. "Try to breathe deeply."

"Tryin'," Ezra gasped out desperately, breathing far too quickly. "Sorry."

Nathan grimaced. "Ezra, it's not your fault, " he said as he worked. "It's the poison. It makes you feel all panicky. Just try, okay? You gotta slow it down. Concentrate." 

"Tryin'," Ezra wheezed again.

"You're doin' a good job, a real good job," Nathan encouraged as Ezra panted in pain. The gambler was going to hyperventilate if he didn't stop it. That was the last thing Ezra needed. Damn it, Nathan thought, why do I always end up hurting people when all I want to do was help them?

"Slower, Ez, slower," Nathan said soothingly. Once he had tied off the bandage again, he announced, "It's over, Ezra. I'm done." Ezra immediately released the hands that held him and wound his own back into the sheets and started to tremble. Josiah and Chris both tried to work the circulation back into their hands.

"I'm sorry I had to do that, Ezra," Nathan said solemnly. He sadly noted Ezra's increased pallor. The gambler's face was almost gray.

"Under...standable," Ezra stated. They could hear his breath slowing down.

Nathan stood silently, knowing that there was nothing more he could do. He felt so helpless, knowing that they would just have to wait it out, see if Ezra survived. God, he thought, I should'a just let him be. His chances of gettin' through this are pretty slim. Why'd I have to have to put 'im through that cleaning?

He looked between Chris and Josiah and stated, "You two should get some rest. I'm gonna need someone to spell me later on. I was up most of last night with the Kramer baby. I won't be able to make it all the way through this one."

Josiah stood and said, "I'll be back at midnight." He knew that Chris wouldn't be leaving. He paused, placing his hand on Ezra's shoulder. He could feel the man calming. He tried to smile reassuringly, even though the man's eyes weren't open. "I'll be back, Ezra. Stay with us, okay?" Ezra nodded once in response.

Nathan waited for the preacher to go and then said, "Chris, you really need some rest."

Chris didn't answer. He pulled the gambler's grasping hand back out of the sheets and held it. Ezra was still trembling, but he was quieting as he concentrated on breathing as slowly and deeply as possible. Chris watched as Standish struggled with the difficult task until finally, he blurted, "Why? Why didn't you tell me?"

Ezra wearily opened his pain-filled eyes. "Odds," he managed to get out.


Part 16:

Buck tossed a stick of firewood into the wood stove with an angry clang. He glared at the man in the cell.

"Yeah, I'm bettin' they're both dead by now," Wahl was saying. He was rid of his ropes and gag, sitting on the edge of the bed. Buck sorely wished he had left the bindings in place.

"They are not!" JD declared. "They're gonna be fine. That's what Vin said."

Wahl snorted. "Tanner? Yeah, sure, he was half-dead from blood-loss when they brought him in. What's he know."

"They're gonna be fine," JD stated again. "Nathan knows what he's doin'."

"Didn't look like it," Wahl continued. "He's no doctor. I've never seen a darky doctor before."

"You shut the hell up," Buck growled at the man.

"That gamblin' man's dead for sure. I ain't never seen anyone make it through a snakebite without somebody suckin' out the poison for him. Larabee killed him for sure." 

Buck picked up another stick of firewood and threw it at the cell. It hit the bars with a loud "WANG!" and fell to the floor. Wahl laughed again. 

"I mean it, you son of a bitch," Buck shouted. "Shut the hell up!" 

Wahl didn't move from his place on the bed. He watched the two men carefully. "Made him go. Threatened him. Yeah, you'll all be better off if that gamblin' man just did the decent thing and died. The only one Larabee gives a damn about is that grizzly hunter." 

Buck approached the cell slowly, his eyes glowing. "I told you to shut your mouth."

"You don't know nothin'," JD stated. "Ezra's one of us. He's as important as any one of us."

Wahl shrugged. "You can think what you want, but you sure don't know what's goin' on."

"Yeah, and you are the guy that knows?" Buck asked menacingly.

"I just see what's what, that's all," Wahl said. "I know about folks like that gamblin' man. He and me are a lot alike."

"You're nothin' like him," JD barked.


Part 17:

The hours passed with excruciating slowness. Vin slept deeply under the influence of the drugged tea. Nathan checked him often for fever and found him under its mild influence. 

Chris sat beside the gambler and watched him. Ezra's breathing continue to worsen, as he clutched at the sheets with one hand and clung onto Chris with the other. Chris couldn't help but notice that the strength that he had marveled at earlier seemed to be leaving. Soon, Chris realized that he was the one hanging on, as Ezra's hand became grew lax. The gaps between breaths frightened the gunslinger and he found himself shaking the gambler from time to time, afraid that he had stopped breathing. 

"Don't you dare give up on me," Chris muttered to the tormented Standish.

Ezra opened his unfocused and agonized eyes, searched for a moment, then closed them again.

Chris looked to Nathan and asked, "Isn't there anything you can give him for the pain?"

Nathan shook his head. "He's got too much poison in him right now. That venom is trying to shut him down. Any kind of sedative would kill him."

"If he only told me," Chris sighed. "If only I hadn't been so damn mad at him."

Nathan sat down across from Chris and questioned, "How long were you separated during the gunfight?" Chris had related their ill-fated journey to him early that evening. Chris had figured that the snake's attack must have happened when Ezra dismounted and disappeared for a short time.

"Ten, fifteen minutes before we got to Wahl again," Chris replied.

Nathan carefully wiped down Ezra's face and chest again. He wasn't sweating as much, but that was probably due to dehydration now. The sheets were soaked with perspiration. They'd managed to get a little water into him, but he'd choked often as he tried to breathe and drink at the same time.

"It would’a been too late by then anyway," Nathan said softly.

"I was worked up about Vin and that damn Wahl. I didn't even notice he was hurt."

Nathan sighed. "I hear the strike hurts like hell, but after that, it isn't too bad right afterward. Not until the poison really gets workin'. Shouldn't 'ave bled too much to start. Depending on how he was standing, you wouldn't have seen it." He watched Ezra's face as he said, "And we all know how good Ezra is at hiding things." He saw Ezra try to laugh. 

"He wanted to stay put," Chris said. "If I kept him still, he wouldn't be in this bad of shape. I made him go." 

He watched as Ezra struggled to open his eyes again. "Odds," Ezra gasped out.

"No more talking," Nathan said for the umpteenth time. He shook his head when he saw Ezra attempt a grin. "Damn fool, just stay still."

"I am," Ezra returned with difficulty. Chris frowned, remembering how irritated he was seeing the gambler smile this morning. Damn him for trying to reassure me, Chris thought, getting angry with Ezra all over again.

The door opened slowly and Josiah entered. He took a moment to appraise the situation before he spoke. "How're they doin'?"

"Fine," Ezra replied weakly, his voice so soft now they could barely hear it.

The preacher sighed, realizing that the gambler had not improved, but had gotten worse. "Nathan?" he asked.

The healer sighed. "He's too damn stubborn to give up." Too damn awake too. He was listening to their every word. If he'd just improve a little, Nathan thought, there'd be hope. Ezra couldn't continue like this much longer. He had been struggling to breathe for the better part of a day now. Nathan didn't know how much more Ezra could take. He was just about used up. 

Josiah said, "Brother Nate, you look tired."

Nathan didn't realize how exhausted he was until Josiah's statement. He had been able to take only a nap between the birth of the Kramer baby and the moment that JD came bursting into the clinic. His lack of sleep was taking its toll.

"I am tired," Nathan admitted.

"It's time you got some rest," Josiah said. "I'll take care of things."

Nathan didn't want to leave Vin and Ezra now, but he knew that they would not be alone. There was nothing they could do but wait and he knew that he would be awakened if something did happen. He trusted Josiah enough to take care of the two patients.

"Thanks," Nathan said as he grabbed his bedroll off a shelf and headed to the porch. "Chris, you should get some sleep, too." 

Chris shook Ezra again when the pause between breaths became too long. Ezra looked up toward him and smiled reassuringly before letting his eyelids fall.

"There's no rest for the wicked," Chris said aloud.

"Will you be okay for a minute?" Josiah asked Chris as he started to follow Nathan out the door. "I just wanna talk to Nate for a bit. Find out what I need to know." When Chris nodded, Josiah left the room, closing the door behind him.

The night was clear and mild. Nathan unfurled out his bedroll tiredly on the balcony and looked up at Josiah. "If Vin wakes, give him some more of that tea I have on the wood stove. Keep a watch on that fever." 

"'Course," Josiah replied.

"If the fever goes up, wake me."

Josiah nodded.

"Ezra will probably get worse," Nathan said reluctantly as he pulled off his boots. "He's gonna keep tryin' but his strength is just gonna give out on him. Don't take your eyes off of him."

"Chris and I will take care of Ezra. You can count on that."

Nathan climbed into bedroll and looked out into the night. "If he stops breathing..."

"...Shake him," Josiah completed.

"Slap him, hit him in that leg if you need to, just get him goin' again." Nathan didn't look at Josiah as he talked. "Wake me if it gets bad."

"I will," Josiah assured the healer.

"Wish there was something I could do," Nathan whispered, lying on his back.

"You have," Josiah responded. "You've done a whole lot for 'em."

Nathan rubbed his tired eyes. "I just can't stay up any longer."

"I'll take care of things," the preacher said. "You can't count on me." 

"I know. Thank you." Nathan yawned. "And watch Chris. He's..." he started and closed his eyes.

Josiah waited for the sentence to complete, then realized that Nathan had fallen asleep.


Part 18:

Chris watched Nathan and Josiah leave the room. Once the door closed, he returned his attention to Ezra. He held tightly onto Ezra's hand, as if he could hold him back from death.

Chris thought again about what had happened: The McCannons and Wahl and all. 

It must have been a horrible thing to find, the gunslinger thought. Ezra had told him briefly about the incident and Chris had done his best to not think about it, but now, he turned it over in his mind. What would it have been like to return later than you planned, to find the murdered bodies of a family, to find parents and children dead, to find them too late? What had been going through Ezra's mind when he found them? Chris could imagine it -- hell, didn't have to imagine it; he'd done it.

When Sarah and Adam were murdered, Chris's guilt almost killed him. If he'd only been there, if he'd only returned sooner. So much guilt, it had nearly consumed him. If it weren't for Buck, he would have been lost to it. He remembered those days as a great blackness in his life. He dealt with it with anger and drink until Buck was able to pull him back into the world of the living.

Guilt was like a snake in the grass, deadly and deceitful, devious and dangerous. It attacked without warning. It poisoned a man’s soul.

Chris watched Ezra struggle and knew that Ezra must have suffered similarly, and remained silent. "You gotta talk to me, Ezra," Chris muttered. "You're so good at hiding things, how am I s'pose to know?" Ezra's face didn't change, he didn't even try to speak this time.

Chris frowned. "I should'a. Sometimes I just get blindsided by things and I don't notice what's important." 

Chris continued, "I'm always here for you, all of us are." Chris had lived for years with that horrible guilt hanging over him. But what could he have done then? What could Ezra have done? 

Ezra paused again in his breathing and Chris shook him. "Please," Chris said, and sighed gratefully as the man drew in another breath.

He remembered how Ezra did not attend the funeral for the McCannons. Probably didn't think he deserved to be there, the gunslinger thought, probably thought he was the cause of all of it.

He leaned over Ezra and whispered, "It wasn't your fault. Nobody blames you. Nobody except you." He watched Ezra's face, trying to see if he had been heard. Chris spoke louder. "You couldn't 'ave stopped it.  You aren't the one to blame. Do you hear me? Ezra?"

He waited, hoping to see some sign, but saw nothing.

"I'm gonna say it again, to make sure you know."


Part 19:

It hurt. Never in his life had Ezra known such hurt. The pain was incredible, coursing through him. Every inch of his body burned, ached, pounded with pain. He'd have to ignore that. Have to concentrate. Have to breathe. He was sticky with sweat. That wasn't important. Have to breathe. So very tired. When did breathing become so tiring? Keep breathing. Don't stop.

It was so very strange to think about breathing. Breath in, breath out, in and out. He tried to imagine a bellows at a forge, opening and closing, inflating and deflating. A concertina, a pump organ, anything. He had to think of the muscles and how they must move to make this work. It was so hard. He was so very tired.

His head pounded to the beat of his racing heart. Slow down, he thought, must slow down. Deep, breathe deeply. Have to keep trying. Mustn't give up. Never give up.

Why not?

It would be easier than fighting this. It would be so easy to stop.

What was the point anyway? What good had he done in all of this? He had done nothing to save the McCannons, had let them slip away. It would be so easy to slip away with them. If he had only been able to do something to save them, if he had only come earlier, if he hadn't stayed so long in the saloon. He should have known. He should have done something. Instead, he let them die.

Something held him. He knew the others were nearby. He couldn't hear them clearly anymore. The only sounds the rushing in his ears: the pounding of his heart, the rasping draw of breath. Was Nathan beside him? Josiah, he remembered hearing Josiah ... and Chris. Where was Vin? He couldn't remember. Vin?

Oh God, what of Vin? He struggled, trying to remember. Vin? No...no...no. Did he fail Vin? He had tried so hard.

Not Vin, too.

No!

Something was shaking him. Oh yes, breathe... must breathe. It was so hard.

Chris was there. Couldn't give up. But it would be so easy.

He heard Chris say something to him and tried to understand, but it was so hard now, so very hard. It was just a muffled sound. He tried to understand the words as they repeated.


Part 20:

Josiah returned to the clinic to find Chris hunched over Ezra, talking to him. He stood for a moment in the doorway and then crossed room. He checked on Vin before he took the vacant seat across from Chris.

The gunslinger grimaced sadly and said, "I don't think he can hear us anymore."

Josiah picked up Ezra's free hand and squeezed it. He smiled when he felt a weak response. "He's still fighting."

"Don't stop!" Chris ordered. "Never give up."

The two sat silently for several minutes before Josiah said, "I stopped by the jail on the way over. That Wahl sure is a piece of work."

"An irritating son of a bitch," Chris said.

"Funny, I thought he only had one black-eye when we brought him in."

Chris shook his head, wondering what had happened in the jail. He'd have to have a conversation with Buck and JD. "That man just has a talent for driving people to distraction. Wish I had figured him out as early as Ezra did. Maybe he wouldn't be in this fix now if I had."

"You carry an awful large burden with you," Josiah declared.

"I'm responsible for my men," Chris said. "I should'a been watching out for him. How could I miss the fact that he was hurt?"

"He's an ornery cuss," Josiah said with a smile. "Only let's people know what he wants 'em to know."

The two men watched as the third shuddered, trying to draw in enough air. "He's not going to get any rest is he?" Josiah said softly.

"He hasn't complained at all," Chris sighed. "He must be in a world of hurt."

Josiah nodded. "He does what he wants to do, there is no doubt about that."

"I could 'ave done something," Chris muttered.

"He didn't tell you."

"Because I wouldn't let him." Chris shook his head sharply. "God, I was layin' into him every second of the day." Chris sighed and continued, "I could'a gotten some of the poison out of him. Could'a kept him still. I sent him off on a horse!"

Chris pressed Ezra's hand tightly. "Don't give up. Don't you dare think of it."

Josiah sighed. "The two of you are like oil and water."

"We just don't mix," Chris concluded.

"Thing is, oil and water got a lot in common." Chris looked up at Josiah's comment but said nothing. He returned his attention to Ezra, watching him like a hawk.


Part 21:

Breathe... breathe... breathe... he thought.

Where am I? What happened? Why's it so hard...to breathe?

Keep going, keep trying... so hard...breathe.

Don't give up... breathe!

Why?...breathe...

So hard...breathe...

So tired...oh, so tired... breathe...

Don't give up... breathe...

Breathe...

Never give up.


Part 22:

Josiah watched Chris slump as time passed. The leader of the Seven was making a valiant effort, but the long day was taking its toll. Slowly, the man drooped until he bent over in his chair. His head lowered until it lay on the bed against Ezra, effectively trapping both of their hands.

Josiah slowly released Ezra's other hand and lay it carefully at the gambler's side before he walked around the bed to tend to Chris. He sat the gunslinger back in his chair. It took some effort to get Chris to release his grip on Ezra, but the preacher managed it after some coaxing and use of superior strength.

He moved Chris off the chair and onto the floor, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. He found a blanket and threw it over his friend. He took a moment to check on Vin again, who slept easily enough, before he took his seat again beside the bed.

Josiah picked up Ezra's hand and held it tightly, as he listened to the man struggle. He's trying so hard, Josiah thought as he watched Ezra. Every breath seemed to rattle him to the core, seemed to sap him of whatever strength he still had.

"Please, Lord," the preacher prayed softly. "Take pity upon a poor soul that only wanted to help another. Have mercy on a man who doesn't even know his own worth. Help our brother. Bring him back to us. He's got so much good in him that he doesn't even know about. Let him come back and maybe he'll have a chance to try it out. He deserves it. I know you and I have had our differences, and maybe I don't have much of a right to ask, but I'm askin'. I'd be mightily obliged to you."


Part 23:

Chris woke with a start. He didn't know when he had fallen asleep, he was only aware of the near silence that invaded his senses. He no longer heard Ezra's ragged breathing. He jerked up his head in alarm and staggered to his feet. Somehow he had found himself on the floor, with a blanket over him. He tossed the blanket aside.

"Easy, Chris," Josiah rumbled, as Chris made his panicked way toward him and the bed.

"Is he...?" Chris started, not able to complete the thought. He looked down at the gambler, who was no longer struggling.

"...Asleep," Josiah completed the sentence. "His breathing evened out a while back. I had Nathan check him. Looks like he's over the worst." 

"Thank God," Chris murmured, watching the sleeping man. Ezra was still too damn pale, and his breathing, although quieter, still came with difficulty. Chris lay his hand on Ezra's forehead for a moment, still sweating and warm to the touch. The sheets were soaked from the long night. 

"Nathan was able to get him to drink a little water before he was out again," Josiah said. "We'll need him to drink some more soon. He sweated about every drop outta himself." 

Chris shook his head. "I'm sorry I fell asleep. I didn't want to leave you alone." 

Josiah smiled as he looked at his charges. "I haven't been alone. 'Sides, Buck was here a while back. He had to come in and check on everyone. He was mighty relieved to see Ezra doing better and that Vin was sleeping well. Then I had a visit from JD. Seems that as soon as Buck gave him the word, he had to come and see for himself. The boy was beaming, he was so glad. I think it really got to him to see Ezra struggle so." 

Chris nodded, thinking, got to me, too. He moved over toward his other man. Vin still slept relatively peacefully. "Fever hasn't really hit him yet," Josiah explained. "Looks like everyone is going to be all right." 

Chris smiled at the preacher. For the first time since Ezra turned up in town with the McCannon's wagon, he actually felt good. The loss of the family had stirred up old pains, old doubts. He would have to let the past be the past. For now he would be happy that his present family was still in one piece.


Part 24:

Ezra slept as best he could. There was so much going on in the room. They were waking him up, trying to make him drink something, asking him questions, harassing him. Someone would move his leg and then say "Sorry, Ezra," when he groaned at the imposition. Nathan changed the bandage again at some point. Damn that hurt. He just wanted to sleep. Why were people always so stunned that he hated to be in this room?

It was a relief to be able to breathe again, breathe without thinking about it, making it his only thought. Thank God that was over.

Someone lifted him up at some point. It was a little painful, but he was held tightly and it was comforting. He hadn't had much of that it his life and felt somewhat embarrassed to be so relaxed by it. He opened his eyes to see Josiah looking down at him. Why did Josiah look so concerned? The preacher smiled and said, "They're just changin' the sheets, Ezra. Thought you'd be more comfortable. It'll just take a minute." And unable to hold his eyes open any longer, he pressed his head against Josiah's chest and fell back to sleep.

He dreamed as he drifted off. He dreamed of that morning, only a week or so ago. The children were still alive, and laughing. Their mother looked on with a loving fierceness. The father was there too, standing over his family. They were so happy. The five of them looked at him, and waved and smiled without a hint of accusation before they faded away. He watched them go, knowing that he could do nothing to hold them back.

He was sorry, but there was nothing he could do. He would have to let them go. It wasn't his fault and he had done everything he could.

Someone was talking near him. He strained to recognize the voice and realized it was Vin.

Vin!

He smiled to himself. He'd managed it. He'd won! The loss of the McCannons would always be a hole in his life, but at least he had managed to save Vin. That was definitely worth something.


Part 25:

Morning dawned, clear and pale. Once they had changed the bed and settled Ezra again, Josiah went off to the jail to relieve Buck and JD. The two lawmen struggled off to bed, glad to be away from Wahl. After a short nap, Buck returned to relieve Josiah and the preacher finally had a chance to sleep. JD would be back to release Buck that afternoon.

Vin awoke at noon, complaining about being kept in the clinic, making unheeded demands to leave. The tracker was still weak from blood loss and chasing a low-grade fever. There was no sign of infection, but he would have to remain in bed for a week if his wound were to heal properly. Vin spent the afternoon keeping an eye on Ezra, waiting for him to awaken.

Nathan and Chris remained at the clinic, waiting as well. JD, Buck and Josiah all stopped by at various times to check on the occupants of the small room. They were thankful to see Vin awake, and anxious to see some improvement in the gambler, who continued to sleep like the dead.

Ezra was finally breathing normally. He had to be strongly coaxed to wake enough for Nathan to force some herb-laced liquids into him. Ezra would partially open his eyes, drink what was offered, and little else.

It was nearly evening when Nathan was finally able to fully rouse him. Ezra looked at the healer groggily, but accepted the warm water despite the offensive herbs floating about in the liquid.

"How ya feelin'?" Nathan asked.

"I feel as if I'd been bitten by a snake," Ezra grumbled. "I thought you were going to provide me with water, not another of your noxious concoctions."

"Well, you must be feeling better now that you're back to complaining," Nathan said as he checked the dressing, he watched for the wince that crossed the gambler's countenance. "Still hurts?"

"Like the devil," Ezra replied. "My entire body aches lamentably."

"How's the chest?"

Ezra sighed. "Still a bit tight perhaps, but I'm quite satisfied that the difficulty has been significantly lessened."

"And your head?"

"The headache has fled. Also, my vision seems to have cleared. I was growing weary of seeing so many of you." Ezra sat back slowly against his pillows, tired from exertion of sitting up.

"Hey, Ez," Vin said from his bed. "It's good to see ya feeling better." Damn, Vin thought, that's for sure. The gambler had looked like death-warmed-over for most of the day.

"That is a sentiment that I share with you, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said quietly. "I take it that Mr. Jackson has promised you an excellent recovery?"

"He won't let me leave," the tracker responded with a frown.

"Perhaps we shall be able to escape later this evening once Mr. Jackson goes to supper?"

"You're not goin' anywhere," Nathan declared gruffly, knowing that neither of his patients had the strength to move.

Ezra turned his head to see Chris leaning against the wall. "Has Mr. Larabee been with us throughout our trials?"

"Yeah," Vin said, "I told him to haul on outta here, but he said he wasn't goin'."

"He's rather stubborn," Ezra said with a nod. He was well aware that it was improper to speak about someone in the third-person while they were in the room with you, but the gambler had put up with that himself all night.

The gambler continued, "Mr. Larabee does have a way of taking on more guilt than is due to him."

"Ezra," Chris said. "How the hell do you think I should feel? I sent you away."

"The odds, Mr. Larabee, demanded the outcome."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"What exactly would have happened if I had remained with you at Falling Cross?" Ezra tilted his head at the man. "Who would've sought assistance? Certainly, you couldn't have gone. You wouldn't have left Mr. Tanner and myself alone, injured. No, you are far too noble for something that sensible. I obviously couldn't have tended Mr. Tanner nor watched over our prisoner for very long. Who else was available to go for help? Mr. Tanner was incapacitated. Mr. Wahl? That might've proven interesting."

"You should'a told me."

"And you would've insisted that I remain, would've never let me go. I realized that I had perhaps enough time in me to reach Four Corners. It was my decision. If I hadn't gone, both Mr. Tanner and I would be quite dead by now. And you, Mr. Larabee, would be in a well of guilt. As it was, I had to listen to you go on about this all night, without the ability to explain myself. That, I believe, is punishment enough for my part in this fiasco. The direction I chose was the only one to produce any appreciable outcome. The odds demanded it. It was a sound gamble." Ezra finished breathlessly.

"Let him get his wind back and he never shuts up," Vin said with a laugh.

"Never pull that sort of crap again," Chris ordered, realizing the weight of what Ezra had said. Not having much of a chance himself, Ezra had used what time he had left to save Vin. Damn him. Chris didn't think he'd ever understand the gambler.

"What would we have done if we lost you?" Chris asked after a moment.

"Perhaps you could keep Mr. Wahl about for a time. I'm certain that his taunting would have done something to relieve the loss."

"Wahl is a snake, Ezra," Chris stated.

"An interesting analogy, all things considered," Standish stated. "Especially since you said the same about me most recently."

Chris paused. Yes, he remembered. "Ezra, I want to..." he started.

Ezra wearily raised a hand. "Please, Mr. Larabee. Let us place the blame for this incident squarely on Mr. Wahl and leave it at that. Even the viper was less to blame than he, as I was the one who stepped on it." Ezra was obviously tiring, his eyelids drooping and his breath become labored again. "Wahl is the only one to blame," Ezra said the words distinctly as he looked up to Larabee.

"Ya had us worried," Chris said, meeting Ezra's gaze. God, Larabee was glad to see those eyes focusing on him finally.

Ezra smiled. "Why, Mr. Larabee, certainly you didn't think I would run out on you? Only the worst possible reprobate would do such a thing."

Ezra paused for a moment, waiting to catch his breath, and then said, "I seem to remember hearing something about Mr. Wahl receiving a black-eye."

"Two of 'em actually," Vin said with a grin.

Ezra looked puzzled and Vin continued, "He got himself another one last night."

"While incarcerated by our Mr. Dunne and Mr. Wilmington? Well, I can understand Mr. Wilmington losing his temper..."

"It was JD," Nathan corrected.

"Mr. Dunne?" Ezra asked, his voice betraying surprise, but he let the matter fall. "But you, Mr. Larabee? What did Mr. Wahl do to deserve such treatment? We were given strict orders by Judge Travis."

"Something he said," Chris replied.

"He does have a way with words," Ezra said with difficulty, finding himself starting to gasp again.

"Enough," Nathan said. "Let him rest." He laid his hand on Ezra's forehead and frowned. "You're getting yourself a fever now."

Ezra groaned theatrically. "Due to the aggravation caused by Mr. Larabee."

Nathan looked up at the gunslinger and said, "Well, you heard that, Chris. It's time you got outta here. You're due to relieve JD now anyway."

Chris opened his mouth to speak again, but received a threatening look from Nathan. Chris shook his head and headed toward the door.

Chris heard Vin say, "Hey, Ezra."

"Mr. Tanner?"


"Thanks, ya know, for goin' for help."

"Don't mention it, Mr. Tanner."

Vin paused. What can you say to a man who almost got himself killed trying to save you? Do you offer to buy them a drink? Tanner smiled. He'd think of something. It might have to be sneaky and underhanded as the con man himself, but the tracker would think of something.

Vin laughed and said, "A snake, Ezra...I ain't never known anyone who lived through a snakebite. You got a secret or somethin'?"

"Professional courtesy," Ezra replied, closing his eyes.

Vin looked up to Nathan who explained. "He means that snakes don't kill other snakes. It's a professional courtesy."

Chris was going to say something, but noted Nathan's fixed glare and the fact that Ezra was once again asleep. He pulled the door shut behind him and headed down the stairs. I'll have a talk with that stubborn southerner when he's feelin' better, Chris thought, a nice long talk.


Part 26:

Chris walked along the boardwalk, feeling stiff and tired, but ready to relieve JD at the jail. Judge Travis was scheduled to arrive tomorrow and the trial would be held shortly after that. Larabee would be glad to have this all behind them.

He pushed open the door and saw the young sheriff at the desk, warily watching the cell. Chris glanced at the prisoner and was glad to see Wahl asleep. Thank God. He wouldn't have to listen to the son of a bitch.

"Is Ezra up yet?" JD asked.

"He was for a while. He's asleep again." Chris smiled and said, "I think he's feelin' a whole lot better."

JD grinned widely. "And Vin?"

"Doin' fine. Nathan's gonna have his hands full with the two of 'em."

The gunslinger gaze returned to the cell and the sleeping prisoner. Funny, he no longer felt that seething rage anymore when he looked at this killer. It was more like a dull ache.

Chris chuckled as he noticed Wahl's bruised countenance. "You had to hit 'im?"

"Aw," the young man said, waving his hand in disgust at the prisoner. "If I hadn't done it, Buck would'a. Wahl just wouldn't shut up."

Chris nodded. "Had the same problem myself," he responded.

"Kept sayin' the same dumb thing." JD grimaced and stood. "I guess I let it get to me. I know, I shouldn't 'a hit him, but ...jeez, Chris, I didn't wanna hear it again."

"Yeah, I know. Same with me."

"Kept on goin' on about how he thought Ezra was just like 'im." JD shook his head sharply as he walked about the room. "Couldn't stand it any more."

Larabee laughed and JD furrowed his brow. "What's so funny 'bout that?" JD asked, annoyed. "He hadn't any right sayin' that. Ezra's nothin' like him." JD nodded at the prisoner. "That Wahl was askin' for it."

Larabee sat down in the chair JD had just vacated and said, "Wahl said the same thing to me. I had the same reaction." He pointed to Wahl. "I got the left eye. The stupid bastard just doesn't know when to shut up."

JD grinned again. "At least I shut him up permanent. He hasn't said a word since I clocked him." Chris shook his head as JD picked up his bowler. "I'm gonna go peek in on Ez and Vin."

Chris nodded. "Go on then."

Once the sheriff had left, Chris leaned back in his chair. He watched the prisoner out of the corner of his eye, but didn't think about him. Wahl could go to hell for all Larabee cared.

Chris' mind wandered as he propped his feet up on the desk, wandered back to another place and time.

He remembered Sarah and Adam. For the longest time, he couldn't have pictured them without pain, couldn't have thought about them without also feeling the horrible guilt over their deaths. But now, for a change, he remembered only them, the woman and boy, his wife and child. He smiled to himself as he gazed out across the room.

THE END - By NotTasha
Do you want to read the sequel? Snake on the Loose Does Chris ever have that little talk with Ezra?

I'd be glad to hear any comments you may have in regard to this little story. Let me know what you think

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