Painful Memories

By Jean Williams


Part Eleven

Once Ezra was fairly certain he had some control over his emotions, he eased himself away from Buck and leaned back against one of the curving tree branches. His hand dipped into his vest pocket and pulled out the well-worn deck of cards he always had with him, and he began shuffling. The familiar, soothing motion of the cards slipping through his fingers worked its magic, and he felt some of the tension slowly drain away.

Buck snuck a peek at Ezra's hands as he shuffled and frowned when he saw the bloody scrape across the knuckles of the right one, along with a darkening bruise that stretched across three of his fingers. He didn't see how the gambler could stand to manipulate the cards the way he was.

Ezra stared down at his hands and blushed in embarrassment as he felt Buck's eyes on him. He knew the older man thought nothing of these recent emotional outbursts he'd been experiencing, but Ezra still found them extremely painful. Clearing his throat, he mumbled an apology for his shameful behavior. "I am sincerely sorry, Mr. Wilmington."

Buck heaved an exasperated sigh and punched Ezra lightly on the shoulder. "Will you just quit apologizin', Ezra? I'd say ya got damn good reason to be upset." He saw Ezra falter as he slowly shuffled the cards, and his expression softened. He reached out and laid a gentle hand on the gambler's arm. "Ya gonna be all right?"

Ezra hesitantly shrugged his shoulders and managed a small, weary smile. "It has been a rather trying day."

Buck chuckled and nodded his head in agreement. "It sure has been that." He plucked a leaf off the nearest branch and sat idly toying with it as he glanced over at Ezra. "That new sister of yours is a real piece of work, pard. That's a whole lotta hate she's been storin' up all these years."

Ezra stared thoughtfully at the older man. "I'd say it's perfectly understandable, Buck. Her... our... father had been her whole life, and that life ended the day he died... thanks to me. Indirectly, maybe, but it still was because of me that he had that accident. And the horrible fact that she was the one who found him just made it even worse."

Buck frowned and shook his head. "I still say it's not right, her blamin' the whole thing on you. Hell, Ezra, you were only five... it's not like ya had any control over what was happenin'."

"I think she needed someone to focus her hatred on to keep from resenting our father for leavin' her, and since I was the one who started the whole horrible turn her life took, I was elected to be the center of that focus. Maybe it wasn't a logical way of thinkin', but logic seldom has anything to do with our emotions." Ezra gave him a half-hearted grin. "I should know... after all, I'm an expert on skewed logic. Otherwise, how could I have dealt with my mother all these years?"

Buck laughed, and then sobered as he thought about Maude's part in this whole mess. "Speakin' of your mother, Ezra, are you gonna tell her ya know who your real father was?"

Ezra swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in his throat as he was reminded of what Maude had done... the knowledge that she'd been ashamed of him since his untimely birth bringing a fresh ache to his already battered heart. "You know, Buck, I've always tried to convince myself that the things Mother did to me were really and truly in my best interests... lessons, if you will, to help me survive in this world... and that she did the best she could for me considering her glaring lack of maternal skills. It was the only way I was able to hold onto any feelings of love for her, or... or to believe that, somewhere, deep down in that conning heart of hers, she actually held a scrap of affection for me." Ezra sighed disconsolately and stared at the leaf-covered branches as they swayed gently in the light breeze. "But what am I supposed to do now that I know it was all a lie... that she never did give a damn about me?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Ezra saw Buck open his mouth to offer a protest against that harsh statement and quickly snapped his head around to glare at the startled gunfighter. "Don't you even try to defend her to me, Buck. You heard Katherine, she kept me from my father... someone who wanted me... who truly loved me... just to save herself the shame of people knowin' I was a bastard. She let me think all these years that Charles was my father, knowin' how terrified I was that I'd turn out just like him. Think about it, Buck... how could she have done that to me if she loved me?" Ezra sat and watched the lanky gunfighter as he struggled to find something to say.

Buck could see the fragile glimmer of hope in Ezra's green eyes and knew that he wanted Buck to present him with something... anything... that could explain Maude's actions. Anything that would make it possible for him to hang onto some shred of love for her. And as his friend, Buck desperately wanted to do that for him. Ezra had found and lost his father that afternoon... he didn't think the gambler could handle losing his mother, too.

"Come on, Ezra, ya know she's just like you... always hidin' her true feelin's... puttin' up a protective front. Maybe she just used that stuff about not wantin' people to know what really happened as an excuse so your father would back off. Maybe she was just scared of the same thing he was... that once he had you, he'd take ya away and she'd never see ya again." Buck watched as Ezra fought against the growing hope that he could be right. He could see that the younger man wanted to believe him, but couldn't quite push all the doubt away. The last thing Buck wanted to do was defend Maude Standish to anyone, much less the son she'd carelessly neglected throughout his life... hurting him time and again with her selfishness and need for control... but he just couldn't pile anymore hurt on Ezra by encouraging the gambler's negative thoughts about her. So biting back his disgust for the woman, he tried to find the words to ease Ezra's mind.

"But then why didn't she tell me the truth once I'd grown up? I mean... my God, Buck... it's been twenty three years." Ezra leaned his head back against the tree and rubbed tiredly at his eyes as he whispered sadly, "Why didn't she just tell me?"

"She was probably afraid ya'd hate her for what she did... afraid she'd lose ya." Buck saw his friend's face take on the familiar signs of a headache and reached out to gently rub his shoulder. "Why don't ya hold off makin' any decisions about Maude till ya talk to her. At least give her a chance to explain why she did what she did. She's your mother, Ezra... she deserves that much."

Ezra stared skeptically at his friend. "You honestly think she'll tell me the truth? This is Maude Standish we're talkin' about here."

Buck gave Ezra a quick shake and grinned at him. "Well, hell, pard, you're 'bout the best person I ever seen at readin' people... ya shouldn't have any trouble with your own mother."

Ezra shook his head and gave Buck an answering grin. "You forget who taught me that particular talent, Mr. Wilmington. But I suppose you—" Their conversation was interrupted when Katherine called out Ezra's name and, pushing aside the branches, stepped into view.

Katherine stood and silently stared at Ezra for a moment, the remorse she was feeling showing clearly on her face. "Ezra? Could I... could I please have a word with you?"

Buck turned back to Ezra and waited, not moving an inch until the younger man looked at him and nodded. "Ya sure, pard?"

Ezra smiled as he felt the reassuring warmth of Buck's protective concern wash over him. "I'm sure, Buck... and... thank you."

Buck cocked his eyebrows quizzically at the smaller man. "For what?"

Ezra placed his hand over Buck's and gave it a small squeeze. "Just for bein' here... for bein' a friend."

"Hell, Ezra, I'll always be here." Buck grinned at the gambler. "Ya oughta know by now how hard I am to get rid of." He slid off the branch and slowly walked toward Katherine, his eyes narrowing slightly as he neared her. "I'll be up at the house if ya need me, pard." He slowed his step as he drew up alongside the woman, and speaking so only she could hear him, warned, "Hurt 'im again, an' you'll be answerin' to me."

Katherine gave him an embarrassed nod and waited till he'd stepped out into the sunlight before slowly moving toward Ezra. When she reached the tree, she gestured at the spot Buck had just vacated and asked, "Mind if I join you?"

Ezra hesitated, his cool green eyes gazing intently into hers, and finally nodded and held a hand out to help her up.

Katherine stared at it for a moment, and then slipped her smaller hand into his and allowed him to boost her onto the branch.


Buck stood just outside the wall of branches and waited until he heard the quiet murmur of the two soft, southern-accented voices drift across the heavy air. Then with a gentle smile and nod of his head, he turned and headed back toward the house.


JD carried the wicker basket as he followed Abigail around behind the barn to the orchard. He took a deep breath and grinned... the air around them was redolent with the sweet, mouth- watering smell of ripe peaches, and JD could already taste that cobbler they'd be having at dinner.

It had been a good year, and the branches hung heavy with the fuzzy, red and golden globes of fruit. JD noticed something moving under the trees and moved closer. A look of delighted surprise lit up his face as a cloud of butterflies left the over-ripe peaches littering the ground to flutter gently around him.

Abigail smiled softly as she watched JD and saw the look of childlike wonder that shone in his eyes. Lord, he looked so young... too young to be wearing the guns that were buckled around his slender hips. Too young to be riding with a group of men who had lost that boyish innocence a long time ago... men who had been hardened by their experiences in a world that they had sadly discovered was frequently harsh and unforgiving.

"How old are you, JD?" Abigail had to hold back the urge to laugh when she saw the expression of cocky defensiveness that immediately came over him.

Squaring his shoulders and tucking his thumbs in his gun belt, JD reluctantly announced, "Nineteen, almost twenty." He sighed and waited, positive she'd make some comment on him not looking older than sixteen... everyone else did when they found out his age.

Abigail shook her head as she stared at him. "Land sakes, son, I would have sworn you were at least twenty-three or twenty-four!"

JD unconsciously stood a bit taller at her words and gave the older woman a small smile of gratitude. Abigail knew she'd probably made a friend for life just by stretching the truth a little, even though, judging by the look on JD's face, he was well aware that she was merely being kind. He knew exactly how young he looked and was just thankful that, for once, someone had refrained from pointing it out.

They took their time picking the peaches, enjoying the beauty of the day as they talked about their lives. JD told Abigail about his mother and her failed dream of him attending college, and how he came to be in Four Corners and a member of the Seven. In return, she told him about she and her husband moving to Shelby and how Matthew Delacourte had resented her husband taking on the cases of the few people who were brave enough to go against the tyrant. How Delacourte had tried everything he could to force him out of business and had failed... until he finally had had her beloved Samuel killed. And JD had no doubt after listening to Abigail, that it had been Ezra's uncle who had arranged for that murder.

They had the basket filled in no time, but Abigail was enjoying her talk with the young man so much, she suggested having an impromptu picnic of peaches before returning to the boardinghouse. JD was more than happy to agree to her suggestion, and after spreading out his coat for her to sit on, settled down on the soft, green grass beside her.

JD quickly devoured one of the sweet, succulent peaches and then continued their conversation. "Why didn't you move back to Tennessee after your husband died? Wouldn't it've been easier than stayin' here and fightin' against the town and Delacourte?"

Abigail shrugged and stared off into the distance. "There wasn't really anything to go back to. We weren't blessed with children and had no other relatives left there...." She turned back to JD, her eyes blazing with defiance. "Besides, if I had given in and left town, Delacourte would have won, and my husband would have died for nothing."

JD stared worriedly at her, thinking how lonely her life must be.

Abigail saw the sympathy in his eyes and reached over to pat his hand. "Now don't you fret none over me. It's not as bad as it sounds." Handing JD another peach, she attempted to turn the focus back on him. "So tell me what it's like bein' a peacekeeper in the wild West... is it something you enjoy doin'?" She couldn't help but smile when she saw the look of pride that came over his face.

JD's eyes lit up as he began talking about what his life had been like since joining up with the other men. The words just tumbled out of his mouth as he described some of their more exciting adventures, carefully avoiding the more dangerous aspects, knowing it would only worry Abigail.

"Do you ever wish you could have gone to college instead?" she asked when he finally ran down.

"Not really. I hate thinkin' that my mother would have been disappointed in me for not following through with her dream, but I've learned more from the guys than any college could ever have taught me." JD's expression softened as his thoughts turned to the men who were like brothers to him. "I came out here lookin' for those so-called heroes I'd read about in the dime store novels, and then I met Chris and the others and found out what a true hero really was."

Abigail had been just about to suggest heading back, but instead decided she wanted to learn more about the six men who had so obviously captured JD Dunne's heart. "They've become a family to you, haven't they?"

JD nodded. "I don't even want to think about what would have happened to me if they hadn't let me join the group." He grinned at her and leaned in closer, his voice dropping as if he was afraid Buck or one of the others were listening. "But whatever you do, don't tell them I said that... they'd never let me hear the end of it."

She laughed and whispered back, "Don't you worry, your secret's safe with me." Reaching overhead, she plucked two more peaches out of the tree and handed one to JD. "Must be a little hard sometimes dealin' with six older brothers though."

A thoughtful look came over JD's boyish features. He'd been ready to heartily agree with Abigail, ready to launch into all the aggravating incidents he'd endured in which his friends had turned into over-bearing, bossy brothers. But then all the things they'd taught him popped into his mind. Each of the six men had contributed something toward his education... an education that hopefully would enable him to survive in any situation that arose in the dangerous life he'd chosen to lead with them. So instead of complaining about their over-protectiveness and their occasional tendency to treat him like a kid, he found himself singing their praises.

JD rambled on, knowing he was probably saying more than the guys would want him to under normal circumstances, but hoping they would see why he'd done it if they ever found out. There was just something about Abigail Stokes that spoke to his heart... that made him want to share their lives with her and draw her into their little family, and he knew they'd feel the same way if they had an opportunity to spend time with her like he was. She soothed that ache he still carried inside him for his mother, and he hoped, in some small way, that he could relieve some of the loneliness he heard in her voice and saw in her sad blue eyes by making her feel like she was a part of them.

Abigail listened quietly and soon understood the obvious respect and love he felt for each of his brothers.

As much as Abigail hated to, she finally told JD she needed to get back and start dinner. He helped her to her feet, picked up the basket of peaches and, remembering what Ezra had taught him about being a gentleman, gallantly offered Abigail his arm.

She smiled gently at him, tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, and gave it a little squeeze. "You know, JD, you're wrong about your mother being disappointed in you for makin' the choices you did. I think she'd be very proud of you. I know I would be if you were my son."

JD stared up at her for a moment, blinking back a sudden threat of tears, and then shyly reached up and placed a light kiss on her cheek before whispering, "Thank you, Abigail. You have no idea what that means to me."

Abigail brushed back his bangs with a tender touch and squeezed his arm again. "And thank you, darlin', for makin' this one of the nicest days I've had in a very long time."

JD blushed and nodded silently before turning and leading them slowly back toward home... knowing in his heart that leaving Abigail to return to Four Corners was going to be almost like losing his mother again. It would be painful, but he would never regret having met her, and he would always cherish this time they'd spent together.


After Katherine was settled in the tree, she glanced at Ezra and then nervously looked away, not sure where to begin. She wanted to apologize, but she was terrified he'd refuse to forgive her. Glancing at the large branch beside her head, she smiled softly and reached up to trace her fingers lightly across the three sets of initials carved into the bark. 'DS'... 'KS'... and below that a pair of shaky, childish block letters... 'ES.' She turned to look at Ezra. "I suppose you can't remember when we did these, can you?"

Ezra sadly shook his head. "I remember very little of my time here, unfortunately."

She stared at the branch as she thought back on that day. "It was the first time Daddy brought you out here with us. He helped you carve your initials, and then held you in his lap and told you that this was a place you could come to whenever you needed to feel safe." Her smile faded slowly away as she felt a lump form in her throat. "You stared up at him with those sad green eyes of yours and cried. I was a teenager, cocky and secure in my comfortable little world, and all I could think of right then was what a big baby you were. It never even occurred to me to wonder why you were crying."

Ezra felt his eyes fill with fresh tears as he stared wistfully at the carvings. "I had no idea why I'd come here... just that it felt safe somehow."

Katherine looked back at him and caught him wiping his watery eyes. He blushed and shyly ducked his head, and she saw his gaze land on the items she held in her lap. "I thought you'd like to see these."

She handed Ezra a small photograph in a simple wooden frame first and was pleased to see the sweet smile that appeared on his face as he gazed down at the three people in the picture. He glanced back up at her, his eyes asking a silent question. Katherine nodded and slowly trailed her fingers across the glass covering the photograph. "Me, you, and Daddy... our daddy."

Ezra looked back down at the picture, tears trickling down his cheeks as his slender fingers carefully traced the image of the chestnut-haired, green-eyed man staring back at him. "Father...."

Katherine slipped her arm around him, and reached up to run her small hand down his cheek, gently wiping away his tears as her own began to fall. She laid her head on his shoulder and whispered brokenly, "I'm so sorry, Ezra... for hurtin' you today, for not understandin' what you were goin' through all those years ago... for everything."

Ezra nodded and struggled to speak past the lump in his throat. "Please don't apologize. You had every right to feel the way you did, and you had no way of knowin' what my life away from you and our father was really like. I'm just so sorry that, thanks to my mother, we weren't allowed to be a family... that I missed out on so much of your life, and that I never got to really know our father."

Katherine raised up and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before handing him the second object she'd been clutching in her hand. Ezra saw that it was a black, leather-bound book with "My Journal" etched into the cover. Opening it, he saw David Lawrence Standish written on the first page in a neat, flowing script.

"Here, little brother, readin' this when I was feelin' lost and alone helped me miss Daddy a little less and made it easier to get through the bad times. Now that I've let go of the hate and regrets, I don't think I'll need it anymore. Take it and read it... maybe it'll help you get to know Daddy better and make you feel closer to him." She stared up into his tear-filled green eyes and smiled softly.

Ezra stared at the journal and then at his sister. "I can't take this...."

Katherine shook her head and pushed the book back into his hands when he tried to give it to her. "I want you to have it and the picture. Maybe it'll help bring back some of your good memories from when you were with Daddy."

Ezra tucked the journal and picture safely away in his jacket pocket and then gave Katherine a warm hug, which she happily returned. When she moved to leave, Ezra hesitantly touched her arm, stopping her.

"Would you mind stayin' here for a bit? I'd... like it if you could tell me more about our father... and about yourself. What your life's been like growin' up here...." Ezra released her arm and smiled shyly at her. "I want to know all about you, if you don't mind."

Katherine smiled and slipped her arm through his. "Only if you'll tell me all about your life, too. I feel like I've missed out on so much."

Ezra nodded in agreement and slowly started talking.

Ezra and Katherine spent the rest of the morning exchanging stories about their lives, the good as well as the bad. More tears were shed, some honest feelings were shared, old heartaches were brought into the open, mourned over, and then relegated to the past where they belonged. Their hearts were much lighter when they finally emerged from under the protective canopy of the old willow and began making their way back to the house. Thanks to their talk, the two of them had begun to develop a welcome sense of respect and affection for each other, and they knew that with a little time and effort on both their parts, they had a good chance of becoming a family... the family they should have been twenty-three years ago.


Matthew Delacourte was at his desk going over some legal documents, when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in." He frowned when he saw his visitor was Jefferson Harris. "It's about damn time you got here. Are your men in place?"

"I'm sorry I'm late... it took some time to find men willin' to do what you wanted." The older man tried to keep the fear out of his voice as he answered Delacourte's questions. He hated to admit it, but the man scared him. "Your nephew and his friends split up this mornin'. He and three others left town headed toward Barringer. I've got men followin' them, but I imagine they're probably headed out to Katherine Standish's place. They have orders to do nothing unless they can catch one or two of them alone."

"Do they know they're to keep their hands off of Ezra?" Delacourte demanded.

"Yes, sir. I've warned them that under no circumstances is your nephew to be harmed, only his friends."

Delacourte nodded and leaned back in his chair. "What about the rest of his companions... are they bein' watched?"

Harris glanced out the window in the direction of the boardinghouse. "I checked the place out just before I came here. The other members of the group stayed behind and appear to be helpin' Mrs. Stokes. Two of them, a darky and an older man, are up on the boardinghouse roof apparently doin' some repair work, and the youngest is out back in the orchard with Stokes' widow pickin' peaches. From the looks of the bruises on his face, I'd say he's the one my men delivered the warnin' to last night."

Matthew's eyes narrowed and an evil grin slid across his face. "Well, then... I'd say this is a perfect opportunity to give them a bit more encouragement to leave our lovely town." He stopped Harris just as he was about to leave. "Remember, in no way am I to be implicated in what you're about to do. Our dedicated Sheriff Patterson would do his best to protect me, but I have no doubt that these men would do everything they could to see me go down... including forcin' an official investigation of that incident twenty-three years ago." Delacourte gave the older man a warning look. "If that were to happen, you can be sure I would confess to your involvement in the matter. You do remember that little job you helped me with... disposin' of the bodies? I'm sure that would lead to your head in a noose right beside mine."

Harris felt himself break out in a cold sweat at the menacing tone of the lawyer's voice and hurried out the door.

As soon as he'd gone, Matthew Delacourte left his office and casually walked across the street to the barber shop. "Mornin', Horace... I do believe I'm way past due for a trim." He smiled at the young barber as he settled himself in the chair, turning it toward the window so that he had a clear view down main street to Abigail Stokes' boardinghouse. "So how is that lovely wife and those adorable children of yours doin'?"


Josiah took his bandana and swiped uselessly at the sweat that was trickling maddeningly down his face and neck. Glancing over at Nathan, he saw the healer doing the same thing and grinned at him. "Guess bein' born an' raised in this heat doesn't make it any easier to take."

Nathan chuckled and shook his head. "Don't help none that we're sittin' up here on this roof with the sun beatin' down on us."

Both men's hands went quickly to their guns when they heard a noise down in the yard, but they relaxed as soon as they saw that it was Abigail and JD returning from the orchard. JD was laughing at something the older woman had said and had apparently forgotten all about his earlier resentment at not being allowed to accompany Chris and the others. He set the heavy basket of fragrant ripe peaches on the porch and then stepped back beside Abigail, and while shielding his eyes from the bright sun with his hand, looked up at his two comrades balanced on the peak of the house.

"You guys aren't done yet? You know, I always heard the heat was harder on older folks. You want me to come on up there an' finish the job for ya?" JD grinned at the twin looks of disgust he received from the two staring down at him.

"No thanks, JD. Us old codgers only have one or two more shingles to replace, then we'll be done. I think we can manage that much before we're forced into our rockers with our shawls and ear trumpets," Josiah commented, the glimmer of humor in his deep blue eyes belying the sarcasm in his words.

"How's those ribs feelin', JD? Givin' ya any trouble?" Nathan saw JD plant his fists on his hips as he frowned up at him and sighed. Looked like he'd finally lost his only halfway decent patient. Their youngest had always been hard to keep still because he was a bundle of nervous energy, but he'd at least been cooperative... following Nathan's instructions with a minimum of complaint... even choking down any and all of the healer's herbal brews that were necessary. Now the look on JD's face was a mirror image of the one he saw on each of his other five friends whenever they were forced to submit to his ministrations. Oh well, he'd known it was too good to last.

"I told you before, Nathan, I'm—" JD dropped to the ground, pulling Abigail down with him as gunfire suddenly rang out across the yard.

Nathan and Josiah flattened themselves against the sloping roof as bullets whizzed over their heads, trying to make themselves as small of a target as possible, while quickly scanning the area in an attempt to spot the shooters. Nathan felt a sharp tug on his pant leg and hissed as a bullet burned a path along the outer part of his thigh.

Remembering the two on the ground, Josiah eased toward the edge of the roof and called out, "JD?! You two all right?!" He ducked back and threw his arm up to protect his face as several bullets immediately flew his way, digging into the roof and throwing up a shower of splinters that painfully buried themselves in his skin.

JD lay with one arm wrapped protectively around Abigail and his other stretched out in front of him with his gun in his hand, aimed in the direction he thought the shots had originated from. "We're okay, Josiah! You an' Nathan all right?!"

"Yeah... just dandy! JD, we're gonna lay down some cover... get Abigail inside!" The two men waited for JD's acknowledgment and then started firing into the trees. As soon as they heard the kitchen door bang shut, they stopped shooting and shuffled backwards toward the front of the building.

"Y'all aren't welcome here! Make it easier on yourselves an' go on back home before it's too late!" The shouted threat came from the trees near the barn, but neither man was able to spot their assailants amongst the heavy foliage.

Josiah wiped the sweat out of his eyes with his sleeve and glanced quickly at Nathan before turning to gaze out over the front yard and the street beyond. He could see people standing on the boardwalk in front of the stores, staring curiously at the boardinghouse, but not one of them was making a move in their direction. He nudged the healer and nodded at their audience. "Looks like that's the general consensus of the townsfolk." Josiah shook his head in amazement that not one single person was brave enough to step in and at least try to help them. Suddenly, he growled and angrily gestured toward the center of town. "Well, I think we can safely guess who's behind this little display."

Nathan glanced over his shoulder at the older man and was startled by the ferocity of his expression. He understood, however, when he turned to see what Josiah was pointing at and was greeted with the sight of Matthew Delacourte standing in front of one of the shops. While the two men watched, the lawyer arrogantly grinned and tipped his hat at them before slowly walking across the street and disappearing into his office.

Nathan swore and then slowly raised up to look around them. No gunshots... nothing. "Guess they figger we been warned." He finally noticed the specks of blood dotting Josiah's sleeve. "You okay?"

The older man glanced at his arm and shrugged. "Just some splinters." He nodded down at the dark stain slowly spreading across Nathan's leg. "How about you? That looks a mite painful." Nathan eased the blood-soaked material away from his leg and did a cursory inspection of the wound. "It's jus' a graze, nothin' t' worry 'bout."

Josiah stared disgustedly down at the crowd gathering in front of the boardinghouse. "Looks like the rabbits have come crawlin' out of their holes to try and salve their consciences."

He and Nathan slowly made their way over to the ladder and descended down into the yard where they were approached by several of the townspeople.

"Are... are you all right?" Josiah recognized the man speaking as the bank manager... one of the people who had refused to talk to him the day before.

The normally gentle and forgiving preacher glared at the people hesitantly hovering nearby. "No thanks to any of you. Right charitable town you've got here. It's not bad enough you'd stand by and watch visitors be shot at, but you couldn't even scrape up enough gumption to come to the aid of one of your own. Or has Delacourte made it clear that Mrs. Stokes isn't welcome in town also?"

Several of the men started stammering out denials of being controlled by the attorney, but stopped and began backing hurriedly away as Josiah's countenance darkened and his large body shook with the anger he was feeling.

Nathan put a restraining hand on his friend's shoulder and tugged gently. "C'mon, Josiah, won't do no good, an' they ain't worth it. Let's go on inside an' check on JD an' Abigail."

Josiah resisted for a few moments, and then with a disgusted wave of his hand in the crowd's direction, allowed Nathan to lead him into the house.


Lunch at the Standish farm was an enjoyable experience for all of them. During the meal itself, the conversation was kept light, with Buck and Vin running a competition to see who could embarrass Ezra the most. The two men delighted in watching the gambler squirm in his chair as his blush deepened with each new anecdote they dredged up and presented to Katherine as a way, according to them, for her to get to know her brother better. She laughed helplessly at their antics while trying to assure Ezra she wasn't really laughing at him, just the situations they were describing.

After unsuccessfully trying to stifle his two friends generous attempts to help, Ezra decided to stop fighting it and joined in. Even Chris couldn't suppress a chuckle or two as the Southerner's acerbic wit was turned loose on Buck and Vin. The two men were hard pressed to defend themselves, much less come up with any new torments for Ezra.

Eventually, Margaret, who had been with Katherine since her father's death, decided to enter into the fray with a few of the amusing escapades her granddaughter had used to test her grandmother's authority. Soon, Katherine's face was as red as Ezra's had been earlier, and she grudgingly accepted her brother's retaliatory laughter.

Everyone had finally settled down by the time Margaret served each of them generous slices of pecan pie and refilled their mugs with fresh coffee. After everyone had complimented the older woman on the delectable dessert, Chris suggested that they get back to their reason for coming there... the need to fill in some of the missing pieces of Ezra's memory concerning his time spent with them and his Uncle Matthew.

"Katherine, do you have any idea why your father suddenly changed his mind and let Maude an' Delacourte take Ezra away that day?" Chris saw her glance quickly at her brother before nodding, her eyes filling with regret for what he was about to hear.

"It's in the journal I gave Ezra. Daddy had gone along with Maude's decision to keep his true identity in the dark because he thought it would only confuse Ezra and because he was afraid if he defied her, she would stop bringin' Ezra to stay with us. But apparently Daddy walked in on him in his room during that last visit and saw that his back and arms were covered with scrapes and bruises." She looked sadly at Ezra, reaching out to lay her hand over his and squeezing lightly when she felt him trembling. "Ezra had always insisted on bathin' and dressin' himself, and we thought he was just shy, but now I know that he was probably followin' Matthew's orders to not let anyone see what had been done to him."

Vin scowled at her as he thought about what she said. "You read about the marks your pa had seen on Ezra an' still thought he wanted to be with that bastard Delacourte?"

Katherine blushed and shook her head. "I dismissed it as Daddy's overprotective exaggeration and just the usual bumps and bruises a little boy gets when playin'." She gave Ezra an apologetic look and shrugged her shoulders. "It sounds so cold and unfeelin' now, but at the time I read the journal, I was still wrapped up in hate and the need to blame someone for takin' my father away."

Ezra assured her he understood and asked her to continue with her story.

"Anyway, after seein' that, Daddy swore he'd never let Matthew or anyone else lay a hand on Ezra ever again, and when Maude finally came after him, Daddy told her she couldn't have him. The next day she showed up with old Delacourte, and when Daddy told them to get off our property, he just laughed at him and told him he'd better hear what he had to say first. They went inside and when they came out, Daddy had tears in his eyes, and he told Ezra he had to go with them. After they left, I asked him what had happened, but he wouldn't tell me... he just said I was too young to understand." Katherine glanced shamefacedly over at Ezra. "Ezra never cried or raised a fuss or anything, so I just figured he wanted to go with them."

Ezra's eyes were shiny with unshed tears as he smiled reassuringly at his sister. "You had no way of knowin' what was really goin' on."

"He didn't cry 'cause he didn't want your father to feel bad about havin' to let 'im go," Buck explained for Ezra, not knowing if he remembered it or not.

Katherine slipped her arms around Ezra and hugged him before continuing. "Well, I never knew what happened until after he died and I found that incident in his journal. When Daddy and Delacourte went in the house, Ezra's uncle told him that unless he released Ezra, Maude was goin' to tell him that Daddy was his father and that he'd known it all along, but didn't want to claim him as his son because he was ashamed of him. Our father tried to argue that Ezra would never believe that he didn't want him, but Matthew apparently convinced him that once he got through with Ezra, usin' whatever means it took, he'd hate Daddy and never want to see him again. Daddy still refused, tellin' Delacourte that he'd rather have Ezra with him, hatin' him... at least then he'd know his son was safe. That son of a—" She stopped and glanced apologetically at her grandmother. "Delacourte then told him Maude would go ahead and take him to court, and when she won... which she would... he'd make Ezra pay for all the trouble he'd caused. Daddy wrote that he was terrified of what Matthew might do to the boy, so he gave in." She turned to Ezra and stared intently into his pain-filled green eyes. "But he said in the journal that it nearly killed him to watch you ride away with them, and after mourning over losin' you for two agonizin' days, he decided that he'd just have to take his chances with the court... he was goin' to bring you back even if it was over Matthew Delacourte's dead body." Her eyes filled with tears, and she let Ezra pull her back against his shoulder. "That last part was written the day he went after you... the day he died."

The men were silent as they thought about what they'd just learned... about the senselessness of David Standish's death... the unfortunate result of a horrible tug of war over one small boy.

Chris glanced up and saw Vin staring at Katherine, his brows drawn down in a thoughtful frown. "What's the matter, Vin?"

Vin glanced nervously at Ezra and then turned his gaze on Chris. "I'm not sure, cowboy, just a feelin' I've got."

His three comrades became instantly alert. Vin's feelin's were often uncannily accurate. "'Bout what, Vin?" Buck watched the tracker turning whatever was bothering him over in his mind and patiently waited for him to decide to share it with the rest of them.

"Well, it's just a thought... one I sure hope is wrong, but... Katherine? You said your pa hit his head on a rock an' that was what killed 'im?" Vin waited for her confirming nod before going on. "I'll bet there was a lot of blood... musta been scary, you bein' a kid an' all."

She thought carefully for a few minutes, staring down at her fingers plucking aimlessly at the tablecloth. Buck noticed the gesture and smiled when he realized it was the same nervous habit Ezra had.

Katherine finally looked back up at Vin and shook her head. "Actually, there wasn't, just a little in his hair and on the side of his face. I remember thinkin' how peaceful he looked. If it hadn't been for his eyes bein' open, I would have thought he was just sleepin'."

Vin glanced at the other three men and saw understanding appear in their eyes. They all knew that with a serious head injury, there should have been heavy bleeding.

"Ground where he was layin' should've been covered with blood." Chris kept a close eye on Ezra and the two women. "It had to've happened some place else."

Vin nodded reluctantly, seeing comprehension finally dawning in their eyes.

Margaret frowned at Vin. "So you're tellin' us you think my son-in-law's body was moved to that spot... after he died?"

Katherine sat shaking her head in denial, her hand grasping Ezra's tightly. "But that would have to mean that... that...."

"He was murdered, and whoever did it left the body there to make it look like an accident." Ezra's voice trembled as he voiced the thought his sister just couldn't bring herself to finish.

Chris nodded. "I hate to say it, but it looks that way. Now we need to figure out where he was actually killed and why."

Vin's gaze settled on Ezra and Katherine as he attempted to work through the rest of the feeling he'd had. He hoped, especially for the gambler's sake, that he was wrong, but the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that he knew where David Standish had died.

Ezra looked up and caught Vin staring at him. "There's more, isn't there?"

The tracker glanced over at Chris and Buck, and then back at Ezra's sister. "Did you say it was a couple of days after Delacourte an' Maude took Ezra away that your father decided t' go get 'im back?"

Katherine nodded, but before she could say anything, Vin turned his attention to Ezra and hesitantly asked, "Do you... " Vin hated to have to ask Ezra and prayed he was wrong in what he was thinking, but... "Do you remember exactly when you got that whippin' from your uncle? The... the one in your nightmares?"

Ezra stared at Vin and felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest as he realized what the long- haired tracker was getting at. The man's body in his nightmare... he thinks that was... that it could be his....

"Vin, you can't be serious! Good Lord, it can't possibly have been.... " Ezra pushed himself away from the table and tried to stand, clutching at the back of the chair as he felt his knees start to buckle.

Buck, Chris, and Vin saw the blood drain out of Ezra's face and immediately jumped up to go to his aid, but before they could take two steps, Katherine was by his side, supporting him as he wove unsteadily on his feet and then coaxing him back onto his chair. "Ezra, are you all right?" Ezra could only shake his head as he stared at Vin.

As soon as Buck understood what Vin and Ezra were talking about, he moved quickly around the table to stand worriedly behind the shaken gambler.

Margaret, who was sitting on the other side of Ezra, stood up and motioned for Buck to take her place. He gave her a grateful smile and quickly sat down beside the younger man, stroking his hand gently up and down Ezra's back and speaking softly to him. "Easy now, pard, we don't know for sure that's who it was."

Chris frowned at Vin. "You really think that's who Ezra saw in his dreams?"

Vin shrugged. "It fits, Chris. The timing's right, an' we know that's where Standish was headed when he left here. Maybe they fought over Ezra, an' he killed 'im on purpose, or maybe it was just an accident, but either way, it all fits in with Ezra's nightmare."

Katherine's eyes widened in shock at his words. "You're tellin' us you think Matthew Delacourte murdered my father? Just because Daddy wanted Ezra back?" She turned her horrified gaze on Ezra and grabbed his arm. "Was it his body you saw in your dream?! Did your uncle really kill him like Mr. Tanner thinks?!"

Ezra shook his head helplessly and weakly tried to pull away from her painful grip. "I honestly don't know, Katherine. That part of my nightmare still isn't clear to me. I'm sorry... I'd give anything if I could just—" Ezra suddenly winced and gave a soft grunt of pain as his hand flew up to clutch at his forehead.

Buck wrapped an arm around Ezra as he saw him sway in his seat and leaned forward to peer anxiously into his face. "Shit... it's one of them damned headaches, isn't it?" Seeing Ezra nod, he turned to Chris. "We need to get 'im back to the boardinghouse."

Katherine tugged on Ezra's arm and scowled at Buck. "No! He can't leave now. I need to know what happened to our father!"

Margaret stepped up behind her granddaughter and put a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her. "You can go into town and talk to Ezra tomorrow, dear. You've lived without knowin' the truth all these years, surely one more day isn't goin' to make a difference. What you should be concerned with is your brother's health."

Katherine flinched at her grandmother's gentle admonishment and quickly reached out to touch Ezra's cheek. "I'm so sorry, Ezra. I didn't mean to push you like that. It's just the shock of findin' out...."

Ezra forced his eyes open and managed to give her a small smile as he interrupted her. "No need to apologize, Katherine, I understand perfectly your need to know the truth. But I just... I can't—" He swallowed hard, fighting back the all too familiar feeling of nausea that was causing his stomach to churn dangerously and gave Buck a pleading look of distress.

Buck recognized the signs immediately, and with a mumbled apology to the ladies, jerked Ezra up out of his chair and half-carried him quickly out the door.

Chris hurried to stop Katherine as she moved to go after them. "It'd be best if you let Buck take care of 'im. I don't think Ezra'd want you to see 'im like that. I'm sure he'll be up to a visit tomorrow if you've a mind to talk to him some more." He turned and nodded his head at Margaret before leaving. "Right fine meal, ma'am, an' it was a pleasure meetin' both of you."

Vin stood up and started to follow Chris out the door. He hesitated, and then stopped to look back at Katherine. "Could ya tell me how t' get t' Delacourte's from here? I'd kinda like t' get a look at the place."

Katherine glanced at her grandmother and then reluctantly gave Vin directions. She stopped him as he turned to go. "Please be careful, Mr. Tanner."

"Don't worry yourself none, I'm jus' gonna do a little scoutin' 'fore goin' back t' town." He gave them a quick nod and a smile, and then slipped out the door.


Continued