Abandoned

By Jean Williams


Part Two



Chris and Vin were the last to return to the saloon. Chris headed straight for the bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and taking it to the table, not speaking to anyone as he sat down. Vin glanced at him and sighed, shaking his head slightly at a look from the others. Nothing was said for a long time, they all just sat there drinking their coffee or whiskey and trying to avoid thoughts of Ezra and what he must be going through. Every once in a while JD would look at the gunslinger out of the corner of his eye, but he knew better than to say anything to him. As for Chris, he sat and stared at Ezra's chair as he drank from the bottle he clutched in his hand.


Parker was stunned by Ezra's attack and it took several minutes for him to regain his feet and get to the door. He didn't think Standish had that much strength left in him and was amazed to see him already at the edge of the woods. Parker yelled for Ezra to stop, pulled his gun and aimed at the gambler's retreating back... then hesitated. If he killed him, his little game was over. He'd just have to follow the smaller man until his strength finally gave out... it was only a matter of time given his weakened state and the cold he was now experiencing. So the huge man followed quickly after Ezra, keeping him in sight but not attempting to catch up to him. He would wait until the conman was too weak to put up much of a fight, then close in.

Ezra ran through the snow, trying desperately to keep his balance but his arms fastened to his sides made it nearly impossible. He wondered why Parker hadn't shot him, but he wasn't about to stop and find out. After a few hundred yards he tripped over a rock hidden by the snow, stumbled and fell, landing on his injured arm. He emitted a hoarse cry of pain and struggled to his knees only to find Parker towering over him. Ezra closed his eyes and sank slowly back to the ground, realizing his one chance at freedom was gone.


Chris finished the bottle and his head started to nod. Vin sighed, went around the table and took the empty bottle out of the gunslinger's hand. He nodded at Buck who was standing on Chris' other side and the two men helped him to his feet.

"I don't need any help," Chris mumbled as he staggered toward the door with Buck and Vin right behind him, waiting to grab him if he fell.

"So that's it? We're just going to give up looking?" JD looked at Josiah and Nathan in astonishment. He couldn't believe they weren't doing more to find Ezra... that Chris could just sit here and get drunk all day when they should have been out looking.

"JD, none of us are giving up. We've got to wait for this storm to die down," Nathan tried to explain.

"But it's been two days already! Ezra's got to be convinced that we're not coming by now, that we aren't even looking!" JD exclaimed as a tear trickled down his cheek. "He needs us and we're just sitting here!"

Josiah put an arm around the boy, trying to quiet him. "If we tried searching in this storm, all we would do is wear ourselves out for nothing. We need to get some rest so we can make a fresh start in the morning. The best thing you can do right now is pray that God will watch out for Ezra until we can get to him."

JD nodded slowly, "I guess you're right, but it just feels like we're abandoning him when we sit here doing nothing." He stood and headed for the door.

"I don't think Chris and JD are going to make it through this if we don't find Ezra soon," Nathan said, as he watched the boy cross the street and enter the jail.

"I'm not sure any of us will, Nathan," Josiah said as he walked toward the door. "I think I'll head to the church and do a little begging on Ezra's behalf. I'm afraid he probably needs all the help he can get right about now."

Nathan rose and followed after the preacher. "I think I'll go with you. Can't hurt to add another voice to that prayer."

"Amen, Brother Nathan. Amen." Josiah solemnly answered as they walked out into the storm.


Parker stared down at Ezra seeing the defeated look on his face and realized the fight had gone out of the younger man. He was shivering violently from the cold and his arms, chest and back were covered with blood and bits of glass.

"Standish." He spoke quietly and waited. Ezra finally looked up at the savage card sharp and was rewarded with a back handed slap that whipped his head around and caused a new ache to form in his already throbbing jaw. "That's for trying to get away."

Parker reached down, grabbed Ezra by the hair and hauled him to his feet. He shoved the smaller man who began to stagger back toward the cabin. He saw Standish look back into the woods, as if he expected to see someone coming to his rescue. "You don't actually think they're looking for you, do you? Hell, they're probably glad you're gone." He saw a flash of doubt cross Ezra's face and realized he had struck a nerve. With that seed of doubt planted, he knew Randall's visit in the morning would be all he needed to tip the younger man over the edge into total despair.

Several times Ezra stumbled into trees as he tried to stay on his feet, reopening the wound in his arm. By the time they made it back to the cabin, the bandage on his arm was soaked with fresh blood and it had begun to slowly trickle down his side.

Parker had to practically carry Ezra up the steps and into the cabin where he dumped him back on the cot. The conman was on the verge of passing out from the intense cold and the large amount of blood he had lost. He moved his head weakly as Parker came at him with the blindfold, but could offer no real resistance. His captor grasped Ezra's face, jerked it roughly around to the side and fastened the blindfold in place.

"We'll just let you get used to the darkness for awhile, and then we'll start our little experiment in the morning. And to make sure you don't try any more escapes, we'll put you on a leash." The huge man pulled a length of rope from the satchel and tied one end tightly to the belt around Ezra's waist and the other to a metal loop he'd fastened in the wall. Then he left Ezra lying on the cot trembling, whether from the cold or fear he wasn't sure... but he hoped it was the latter. He laughed quietly as he left the cabin to get some firewood and find something to cover the broken window. He couldn't have the gambler freezing to death just when the game was finally getting underway.


JD was the first one in the saloon the next morning and he was disappointed to see no one else was up and ready to go. It was still snowing, but nowhere near as hard as it had been yesterday. He yawned as he grabbed a cup of coffee and ordered an egg and some biscuits. He wasn't actually hungry, but he knew he had to eat something. He sure needed that coffee though, seeing as how he only slept maybe an hour all night. The young sheriff couldn't stop thinking about Ezra and what that Parker fella was doing to him. It actually made him sick to his stomach when he thought about it... his imagination was coming up with some pretty awful things Ezra could be suffering through. Chris and Vin came in just as JD was finishing up his breakfast. They both grabbed coffees and came and sat across from him, noting the boy's tired expression. Obviously he hadn't slept any better than they had. JD started to ask Chris what the plan was for today, but one look at the gunslinger's face told him it would be better to wait until after he had a few cups of coffee in him. Chris' head was probably a mite sore this morning after all the whiskey he had drunk the night before. Besides, JD thought, they might as well wait for the others before they made any decisions. But they didn't have long to wait because the others had all filed in within the next half hour, all looking like they hadn't slept and all anxious to get back to the search. The only problem was they were running out of places to look, and that thought was starting to scare them. Nobody wanted to bring it up... to bring the thought out in the open... but each one knew that the odds of finding Ezra alive were getting smaller with each day that passed. And it was killing each and every one of them to realize that if he died, he would probably die thinking that none of them had cared enough to try and find him. They all knew that Ezra still felt like he didn't fit in, felt that he hadn't proven himself to the group even though he had done so time and time again. He just couldn't see how much he'd changed, how important he had become to each and every one of them. Chris looked around the table at the others and knew these same thoughts were running through all their minds and knew they were all as determined as he was to change all this if Ezra .... no, when... Ezra came home.

After much discussion, it was decided that they would split up into three groups of two men each and head out to the three nearest towns. It was the only place left to look. They knew Mary had sent telegrams asking for information about Ezra, but they still wanted to search each town and question everyone they could. It was decided that Nathan would go on the search too, because the likelihood of Ezra getting back on his own after this much time had passed was slim to none. They hated to leave the town totally unguarded, but things had been fairly quiet since the storm and they decided the townsfolk would be able to handle anything that came up. They agreed to try and meet back here by this time tomorrow if the weather didn't worsen, and each one left knowing that this could be their last chance of finding Ezra alive.


Jacob Randall had stood at the bar keeping one eye on the six men at the table while nursing his drink. He knew Mr. Parker would appreciate knowing what they were doing to find their friend and he was hoping it might bring a little bonus his way. He overheard them say they were going to check the surrounding towns and smiled. Good, that would keep them busy for a day or two; Parker would be glad to hear that. He'd waited until they'd left before getting his horse and heading for the cabin. He hated having to go while it was still snowing and so damn cold, but he knew better than to cross the card sharp. Besides, he couldn't wait to see what kind of games he'd been playing with Standish. He'd had a few run-ins with the lawmen and he loved seeing one of them get what was coming to him. As he rode to the cabin, Randall went over in his mind what Parker had told him to say when he got there. He knew he better get it exactly right or he might be the next victim of the madman's games... and that thought sent a shiver of fear up his spine.


Parker sat quietly watching Ezra. He could tell by the way he had his head tilted that the gambler was trying to listen for any sound that would tell him if he was alone in the room or not. After many years of playing this particular game with his victims, the big man had gotten quite good at being able to move around without making a sound. He was just waiting for Standish to feel safe enough to move off the cot before he started toying with him.

Ezra had been awake for a while now. He'd heard Parker moving about at first, but hadn't heard a sound for quite some time. He thought maybe his captor had gone out, but he just couldn't be sure because without his sight it seemed like his own breathing and heart beat were a hundred times louder than usual. God, he hated this blindfold! The constant darkness was giving him the worst case of claustrophobia he'd ever experienced. He held his breath and turned his head from side to side straining to hear any sounds at all, but there was nothing.

Ezra decided he had to take a chance and began rubbing his face on the wall, trying to loosen the blindfold enough to move it up over his eyes. It took several minutes of scraping and rubbing and considerable pain to his already sore face before he thought he could finally feel it move a little, but not enough to see anything yet. He jerked his hands against the leather cuffs in frustration, but there was absolutely no give to them at all. Ezra stopped suddenly. Was that a noise? He listened for several minutes, but it was still quiet. Determined to rid himself of the loathsome device, he continued working at the blindfold. Wait... did it seem lighter? Or was it just wishful thinking. No, he definitely could see a glimmer of light near his right eye.

Ezra turned around to try again and was stunned when he felt a large hand suddenly grasp a handful of his hair. He was jerked backwards off the cot and thrown to the floor, where he lay gasping for breath. He hadn't even heard the man coming, and he didn't hear the kick he received next coming either. Ezra cried out as Parker's huge boot caught him square in the thigh; he hated giving him the satisfaction of seeing him react, but the pain was just too great to be ignored. He could already feel the bruise forming and the muscle started to cramp so severely that Ezra thought he was going to be physically sick from the pain of it. He lay perfectly still, breathing deeply to try and control the waves of nausea, and soon he felt the cramp ease a little and the sick feeling begin to leave him. He flinched as Parker reached down and jerked the blindfold back into place and tightened the band on it. Ezra's head felt as if it were caught in a vise as the leather dug into his skin.

"Now that wasn't too wise of you, Mr. Standish," the card sharp whispered inches from Ezra's ear. He smiled as he watched the gambler jump at the sound of his voice. "Try that again and I'll just have to blind you permanently instead of using the blindfold. That's not very nice of you to try and ruin my little experiment."

Ezra managed to keep his fear of the man hidden... he didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his words actually terrified him. He lay on the floor, listening... trying to sense where the next attack was coming from.

Parker was disappointed at the lack of a reaction on the gambler's part. He thought sure the threat of actual blindness would have him cowering in fear. That's all right, this little game was just beginning. By the time I'm through with him, the huge man thought, he'll wish I'd just gone ahead and killed him. He reached down, grabbed the rope still attached to the conman and jerked him to his feet. Ezra gasped and fell against the cot as his leg started to cramp again. Parker jerked him back up on his feet and this time held him upright until he could balance most of the weight on his other leg. "You better stay up this time, or you won't be able to get off that floor when I get through with you," he growled menacingly in the gambler's ear.

Ezra felt him untie the rope from the back of the belt and wondered wearily what the hell he was going to do next. He wished he knew how long he'd been here, but he'd lost all sense of time since he'd been blindfolded. He knew the others were probably looking for him and wished they would hurry up and effect his rescue before the madman could think up any other sadistic games for him. At least... he hoped they were looking for him. Parker's words kept coming back to him... 'Hell, they're probably glad you're gone.' What if he was right? What if they weren't coming after him? Ezra shook his head slightly and willed himself to stop thinking like that. He couldn't let the man get to him... he knew it was just part of his game. But the insecure little boy in him who had been shuffled from one relative to another, never being wanted by any of them, just couldn't shake the doubt. Nobody'd ever wanted him around before, why should this time be any different?

Parker stared at the streaks of blood and tiny shards of glass dotting the gambler's skin where he'd gone through the window. He reached out and ran his gloved hand lightly across Standish's back and grinned as he heard the man's sharp intake of breath and felt him try to pull away from the pain. He stared at him thoughtfully for a moment and dragged him over to a chair he had placed in the middle of the room and forced him to sit. Ezra sank onto the chair in relief, his leg was still cramping painfully and he didn't know how much longer it would have supported him. He heard Parker pouring water and he unconsciously wet his lips as he suddenly realized how thirsty he was. He hadn't had anything to eat or drink since this whole ordeal had begun and he could feel himself getting weaker.

The sadistic card sharp saw Ezra lick his lips in anticipation of a drink and his mouth formed a cruel smile as he shook a large amount of salt into the pan of water he'd just poured. He knew he'd get a reaction out of the stubborn young man this time.

"Well, Mr. Standish.... I do believe it's time to start on our little experiment," Parker said as he walked over and placed the pan on the table near Ezra. He watched the gambler frown slightly and continued talking as he proceeded to soak a towel in the salt water. "We're going to see if you have a heightened awareness of pain since your sight was taken away from you. Now if you'll just let me know how this feels... I'm going to wash the glass and blood off all these little cuts you received when you broke my window. And I'm warning you, if you move one inch out of this chair before I tell you to, I'll follow through on my threat and you will not need the blindfold anymore to help me with my experiment."

Ezra tensed when the towel first touched his back, but felt the water and realized the man indeed was washing out the cuts. He had just started to relax when the salt began to penetrate each one of the dozens of sores and an incredible burning sensation spread to every inch of his back. Ezra's back arched as he tried to escape the agony of the salt soaking into the open wounds and a ragged scream forced it's way out of his throat as wave after wave of excruciating pain washed over him. It took every bit of willpower the smaller man had left to remain in the chair, but Parker's threat to his sight helped him hold on. One scream after another was ripped from his throat as the sadistic bully continued to roughly scrub the towel across every inch of the southerner's skin until most of the bits of glass were washed away. Ezra felt as if his body were on fire as the salt ate its way into every scratch and cut. For Parker, the screams were music to his ears. He'd finally gotten the reaction he'd wanted out of his victim.


Randall rode into the clearing just as the last of Ezra's agonized screams ripped through the air. The blood drained from his face at the sound and he seriously considered turning around and leaving. But his fear of Parker was far too great to let him do it, so he slowly dismounted, walked up on the porch and opened the door. His eyes immediately went to the center of the room and the man seated on the chair. He gulped as he took in Ezra's bruised and battered appearance. He'd wanted to see him get knocked down a peg or two, but this.... my God. The man was soaked with sweat... the part of his face the blindfold didn't cover was a mass of bruises and the skin of his chest, back and arms was flushed a bright red. His arms were fastened to some kind of belt around his waist and he was gripping the chair seat tightly with his fingers as his body looked like it was on the verge of collapse. Randall stood frozen by the door, wishing he'd never gotten into this mess in the first place. He looked up at Parker who was standing in front of the gambler holding a cup of water.

"Come on, son... you've got to drink this, you're getting dehydrated and if you die on me, how will I ever finish my experiment?" Parker asked as he tried to get the smaller man to drink the water.

Ezra wanted that water more than anything he could think of right then, but he just didn't trust the crazed card sharp. God only knew what was in that cup. He jerked his head back as he felt the cup touch his lips, but the huge man grabbed a handful of Ezra's hair and held his head still while he poured the liquid down his throat. Once he knew it was actually water, Ezra gulped every drop down and prayed for more.

"Still thirsty?" Parker asked, his voice deceptively friendly. When Ezra nodded gratefully, he turned and poured another cupful.

Randall watched as the other man turned back around and frowned when he saw he had a salt container in his hand and was pouring a huge amount of it in the water. He swished it around to dissolve the salt and then moved the cup to Ezra's lips.

"Here you go. Have some more, you need to keep your strength up." Ezra leaned forward eagerly, his incredible thirst driving any reasonable thought from his mind. If he hadn't been so in need of that water, he probably would have been able to smell the salt. But Parker had the glass to his lips and was pouring it forcefully down his throat before he realized what it was.

Ezra began to gag as soon as the salt water entered his mouth, but the larger man just held his head in place and continued to pour. He stepped back as soon as the water was gone, knowing what would be coming next. The gambler promptly threw up, ridding his body of the water and anything else that was left in his stomach. He slumped weakly in the chair, gasping and choking as his stomach slowly stopped rolling. Ezra had never felt this bad in his life and he wanted nothing more at that moment than to roll up in a ball and cry like a baby. His body was in constant pain and his mind just kept going back to one thing... why hadn't the others come for him yet? Surely they knew he'd been kidnapped, and he didn't think they had traveled all that far from Four Corners to get to this cabin. Vin should have been able to track him by now. Were they even looking for him? Ezra shook himself mentally, trying to get that thought out of his head. 'Stop it, Standish. Quit feelin' sorry for yourself... you know they're coming and it's only a matter of time before you're rescued'... he kept telling himself this, but he just couldn't shake that niggling little doubt that Parker had planted.

"Well, son... it doesn't seem like your sense of smell has been heightened any or you would have smelled the salt in that water before I even got it to your mouth," Parker said as he cleaned up the mess his little experiment had just caused. "We'll just have to wait a little longer and test it again. Maybe you just need more time in the dark, and you're definitely going to have plenty of that since it doesn't seem like your friends are in any hurry to rescue you. Sure seems like they'd have found you by now, don't you think?"

Ezra couldn't help the tremor that rippled through his body at that last statement. He opened his mouth to speak, wanting desperately to assure Parker that he thought no such thing, but his exhausted mind just wouldn't come up with the words he needed. He let his chin drop to his chest and tried to focus instead on controlling the urge to vomit that was rapidly building again. The lingering taste of the salt water and the rising fear of not being rescued were keeping his stomach churning and all he really wanted at that point was to lay down and rest.

Parker saw the tremor and an evil smile slowly appeared on his face... it was time to inject more doubt into Mr. Standish's flagging spirit. He nodded at Randall who reluctantly turned and shut the door loudly... then looked at Ezra slumped weakly in the chair. 'God, I wish I didn't have to do this now'. He'd never expected to feel sorry for the gambler, but to his surprise he did.

Ezra jumped at the sound of the door slamming, his whole body tensed... was it them?... had they finally found him?... his heart pounded as he waited to hear a familiar voice. But his hopes were crushed when he heard Parker greet whoever had come through the door and he collapsed weakly back in the chair, a single tear escaping from behind the blindfold and slowly trickling down his cheek.

"It's about damn time you got here... what took you so long?!" The huge man spoke to Randall but kept his gaze on the gambler, nodding with satisfaction as he saw the dejected slump of his body and that tear glistening on his bruised face. He shot a glare at the other man and motioned for him to continue with his story, then quickly turned back to watch Standish. He didn't want to miss it when he heard what was coming next.

Randall kept his eyes averted from the beaten man clinging to the chair and began the speech Parker had made him memorize. "Well, I was in the saloon having one last drink and just as I got ready to leave the other six lawmen came in and started talking about Standish. So I figured I'd stay at the bar and see what information I could get for you."

Ezra turned his head slightly, waiting anxiously to hear what the others were planning in the way of a rescue.

"So what'd you find out? Are they searching for him?" Ezra's torturer moved silently closer to the blindfolded gambler, eager to see his every reaction to Randall's next words... he knew just how badly they were going to psychologically wound his victim.

"Searching for him? Hell, they were celebrating the fact that he was gone. The one dressed all in black... I think they called him Larabee... said he always knew the little coward would run out on them. Then they all started talking about how useless he'd been to them... always gettin' in one scrape or another with his gambling and con jobs... nothin' but trouble. The kid even stood up and made a damn toast... said at least now everyone'd have a chance at winning when they played cards... instead of all their money goin' to that lyin' cheater. You haven't got to worry about that bunch showing up here... they wouldn't walk across the street to save that worthless piece of trash."

'coward'... 'useless'... 'cheater'... 'worthless'... the words echoed loudly in Ezra's tortured mind as he tried desperately to control his spiraling emotions. It couldn't be... he was sure he was finally being accepted as one of the group... as one of the family they'd formed. How could he have been so wrong? But then again... he'd known all along that he was all of those things... it's what his mother had drilled into his head from the time he was a child... no one would ever like him... no one would ever want him and absolutely no one would ever love him. Ezra clutched frantically at the chair as his breathing quickened and his heart raced... he was totally alone... no one was coming to help him... no one cared that he was in the hands of a sadistic madman. His stomach rolled violently and he knew he was going to be sick if he couldn't get control of his fear. He tried taking deep breaths in an effort to stop the rising flood of bile but just as he thought he was going to win the battle, Parker leaned in close to him and spoke softly. "You're all mine, Standish... no one's coming for you... no one cares what the hell I do to you."

And that was all it took to push Ezra over the edge. The smaller man retched and spewed a hot flood of vomit over the towering form of Parker... soaking his pants and boots before he had time to react.

His torturer was stunned at first and then with a low growl reached down and grabbed Standish by the arms, dragging him out of the chair and throwing him violently to the floor. Ezra groaned as pain tore through his wounded arm and he tried desperately to move out of Parker's reach as the blows from his meaty fists rained down on him. Finally, he just curled up in a ball and prayed for it to end... oblivion... death... it didn't really matter any more to the physically and emotionally battered man. He just wanted the pain to go away.

Randall couldn't take it anymore... he finally screamed at Parker to stop. The enraged man ignored him until he heard him say that the game would be over if he killed Standish. The huge man delivered one last kick to the prone figure on the floor before him and stormed out of the cabin, growling at his accomplice to take care of the bastard as he strode past him. Randall stared in horror at the gambler as he lay in a crumpled heap... unmoving. He was sure Parker had finally killed him until he heard a soft whimper and saw Ezra move his head slightly. He moved quickly to kneel beside the smaller man and rolled him gently over onto his back, gasping at the damage that had been done to him. Blood trickled from Ezra's nose and mouth and a cut on his left temple, just above the blindfold, oozed a steady stream down the side of his face. There was hardly a spot on Standish's body that wasn't either cut or bruised and Randall was amazed that he was still alive.

"Let's get you back on the cot and I'll clean some of this blood off you." Randall got Ezra under the arms and lifted him to his feet... he winced at the smaller man's cry of pain as he put weight on his left leg.

One of Parker's powerful kicks had connected directly with his ankle and Ezra was certain it was broken, he could already feel it beginning to swell. The pain was excruciating as he was half-dragged, half-carried back to the corner and he was barely clinging to consciousness when he was lowered onto the cot.

Randall walked to the table and poured some water in a bowl, grabbed a fresh cloth and moved back over to Standish's side. The conman was moaning softly as he shifted on the cot, trying to find a position that didn't hurt.

"Easy now... don't move around or you'll do more damage to yourself." The man wet the cloth and gently cleaned Ezra's face, pressing down on the cut at his temple in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. Ezra rolled his head weakly, trying to move away from the pain. He tried to speak but only a hoarse croak came out of his parched throat. "Hang on a minute... I'll get you some water." Randall took the cup that Parker had used earlier, rinsed all the salt out and poured fresh water into it. He gently lifted Ezra's head just enough to allow him to drink without choking.

"No... please..." Ezra moved his head fretfully, trying to get away from the cup, remembering the taste of the salt water all too clearly.

"Shhh... it's all right... it's just water. Come on now... you need this." Randall held the smaller man's head until he got a taste of the water and then held it to his lips while he gulped the soothing liquid down. "That's enough for now... don't want to upset your stomach again."

He eased Standish's head back down on the cot and finished cleaning as much of the blood off his body as he could. He ripped up part of the sheet the battered man was lying on and used it to re-bandage his arm, frowning as he noticed how swollen and inflamed the wound had become. Randall could tell infection was setting in by the heat radiating off the gambler's body and he knew if he didn't get real medical attention soon... he wouldn't be leaving this cabin alive. Not that Parker would ever let Standish live after this. Damn... he hadn't known the card sharp was going to carry things this far... if he had, he never would have agreed to help.

He felt Ezra shiver and pulled the overhanging part of the sheet over him as best he could, wishing he had something warmer to cover him with. He rinsed out the cloth and gently wiped the beads of sweat off the smaller man's face.

"Please... who are you? Can't you remove this blindfold? I can't stand the darkness anymore... please...." Ezra pleaded, his voice so weak that Randall had to strain to hear him.

He stared down at the broken man and realized that he just couldn't be a part of this anymore. He was going to have to help him anyway he could... and the first way was to tell him that he had lied about his friends. He needed to know that they 'were' searching for him and that help was on it's way.

"Mr. Standish... I have to tell you something... can you hear me?" Randall gently touched the gambler's face, but he didn't think he was alert enough to understand. "Mr. Standish... please... you've got to listen to me... I lied when I said..."

Randall leaped to his feet when the door crashed open and Parker walked back into the cabin carrying an armload of firewood. He threw the wood down by the fireplace, brushed the snow off himself and then walked over to stare down at Ezra.

"He still alive?"

Randall nodded. "Barely. His arm's infected and he's running a fever. And I think his ankle might be broken."

"I don't give a damn about that as long as he stays alive awhile longer... I haven't finished with him yet." He stared at Randall suspiciously. "He say anything to you?"

"Nope... just some feverish ramblings... didn't make much sense." Randall eased away from the other man and moved slowly toward the door. "Well, I guess I better get back to town... if I don't show up for work in the morning, Mr. Hastings is liable to get suspicious about my whereabouts."

Parker searched his face, his steely gaze taking in his accomplice's nervousness. "You better remember to keep your mouth shut... or what's happened to Standish here will be nothing compared to what I do to you. And you make sure you come back in a couple of days with those supplies or I'll be coming after you."

Randall gulped and nodded as he backed out the door. He hurried through the snow to his horse and mounted quickly, positive that Parker was going to come through that door at any minute to stop him. Finally when he was out of sight of the cabin, he breathed a sigh of relief... and said a silent prayer for Mr. Standish to hang on... he was going to bring back help somehow. No one deserved to have those things done to them and he was going to do everything in his power to stop it.


Parker watched Ezra as he mumbled incoherently, his head moving restlessly back and forth on the cot. He decided to let him be for the moment while he had something to eat and got a few minutes rest, but then he was going to step up the torture... Standish was almost there but almost wasn't good enough. He wanted the cocky gambler completely broken... his will to live gone... his only wish not for rescue but to die. Then and only then would he know his game was over... and then he would end it by granting the man his wish.


Continued