"Oh God..." Ezra moaned as he found himself floating toward his uncle's barn again. He looked up and expected to see the usual scene and was surprised to see that this time it was different... this time the dream had started earlier... before the whipping... before anyone had died. Ezra again found himself stopped by the invisible barrier and stood pressed against it, sadly watching his forgotten past unfold before him. He was forced to stand helplessly by and do nothing as his Uncle Matthew dragged his five year old self around the corner of the barn, shouting at him that he was going to teach him a lesson he'd never forget.
Ezra started as a young black girl came running up behind them and threw herself at Matthew, screaming at him to stop. The huge man easily shook her off and delivered a vicious backhand that split her lip and left her lying dazed in the dirt at his feet. With a jerk of the thin arm gripped tightly in his meaty fist, Matthew continued to pull Lit'l Ezra toward the whipping post.
Ezra felt his heart clench at the fear that shone brightly in the boy's tear-filled green eyes as he pleaded with his uncle to stop. "I'm sowwy, Unca Maffew... pwease don't. I'll be good... I pwomise! Pwease don't huwt me!"
Matthew stopped suddenly and whispered something to Lit'l Ezra before shoving him behind his back, and then turned and pointed a warning finger at the girl who had finally struggled to her feet.
At first Ezra couldn't figure out what was going on, but then he watched in horror as a horse and rider emerged from the mist and moved slowly toward the three people standing in front of the barn.
"Oh God, no... Father...." Ezra recognized the face from the picture Katherine had given him and now realized that Vin's theory about the bodies in his nightmare had been correct. With startling clarity, the details of the incident came back to him, and terrifying images began filling his mind. His father confronting Matthew... the girl trying to warn him off... his own fateful plea for help from the man he'd known at that time as his Uncle David... the fight that had ended David Standish's life... and finally the tragic fate of that courageous young girl who had tried so hard to help him. Ezra groaned and clutched at his head as he struggled to deal with the flood of memories and the horror of what he was about to witness.///
Abigail jumped to her feet as Ezra bolted upright and grabbed frantically at his head.
"No! Oh God... please... Father... no!" Tears streamed down the young man's face as he rocked back and forth on the bed.
Realizing Ezra was caught up in one of his nightmares, Abigail moved quickly to his side and tried to awaken him. "It's Abigail, darlin'... open your eyes for me now." She shook him gently and patted lightly at his cheek, but he just pulled away, wrapped his arms around himself, and continued rocking... moaning that his father was going to die and that it was his fault.
Abigail debated on leaving him alone, but knew she needed to get help. So with one last worried look at Ezra, she hurried across the hall to Buck.
///Ezra's heart pounded as he saw himself struggling to get to his father. He cried out in pain right along with Lit'l Ezra as his uncle threw him backwards into the barn wall and felt his heart clench in fear as he watched his enraged father charge at Delacourte. He futilely threw himself against the barrier, screaming at his father to run... that he was going to die... but nothing changed... they couldn't hear him. He watched in horror, tears streaming down his face as he saw his Uncle Matthew wrap his hands in the smaller man's jacket and toss him across the yard as if he were nothing.
"NOOO!!!!!" With a gut-wrenching scream of rage, Ezra slammed his fists against the invisible wall and began sobbing out his grief and pain as the barrier finally gave and his vision dissolved around him.///
Buck came awake instantly when Abigail touched his arm, and was up and out of the bed the minute she said Ezra's name. He jumped when the gambler's anguished cry ripped through the quiet night and let out his own horrified shout a second later when he entered their room and found Ezra pounding on the window as he cried helplessly for his father.
"Ezra!! No... don't!!" Buck tried to reach the younger man in time, but was still a step away when the glass finally gave under the unrelenting assault, and Ezra's hands plunged through the shattering window. "Oh Lord... Abigail, get Nathan!!"
Buck managed to snag the back of Ezra's nightshirt and kept him from going out the window and plummeting head first to the ground below. He jerked the smaller man back against his chest and wrapped his arms around him, trying desperately to hold him still before he did further damage to himself, but Ezra fought him with every bit of strength he had, convinced it was his Uncle Matthew who had him.
The others rushed in and quickly tried to help Buck subdue Ezra, but it was like trying to tame a wildcat. The terrified Southerner was violently twisting and turning in Buck's arms, viciously kicking at the bigger man's legs and anyone who ventured near him as he screamed wildly for his uncle to let him go.
Buck was having trouble keeping his footing and was slowly forced back toward the bed. When he felt the mattress press against his legs, he simply allowed himself to fall back, taking Ezra with him. Somehow he managed to keep his hold on the frantically squirming man and pinned him tightly to his chest.
Chris and Nathan threw themselves on the bed beside the struggling pair and grabbed Ezra's arms while Vin and JD somehow managed to restrain his wildly flailing legs. Once they had him relatively still, Josiah moved in and, firmly cupping the gambler's face in his hands, leaned in close and began trying to bring him back.
"Shh... easy, son. You're all right... you're here with us an' nothin's gonna hurt you now." It took several minutes of repeatedly reassuring him he was safe before the fear and panic finally began to fade from Ezra's eyes.
"J-Josiah?" Tears still flowed freely down the gambler's cheeks, and his breathing was harsh and ragged, but he was clearly coming around.
Buck and the others eased their hold slightly as they felt him begin to relax, but didn't let go completely, still not sure he was done fighting. Nathan did a quick visual examination of Ezra's hands and arms and was relieved to see that the bleeding was already slowing. He'd been worried at first that one of the shards of glass may have done damage to an artery, considering the amount of blood that had been splattered over everyone as they tried to wrestle Ezra into submission, but he could tell now that it was caused by a number of smaller wounds instead. Some were obviously going to require stitches, but at least there were none that were life-threatening or that would leave any permanent damage.
"That's right, Ezra, it's Josiah. You back with us now?" Josiah's deep voice rumbled comfortingly over the younger man and went a long way toward pulling him out of the nightmare.
Ezra stared into Josiah's kind blue eyes for a few moments and then slowly nodded his head. He opened his mouth to speak and then stopped as the memory of what he'd just witnessed in his dream came flooding back. They all felt the tremor that tore through him as he let out a strangled moan of pain and grief. "Oh God... it's true... he k-killed him... Uncle Matthew killed m-my father!"
Josiah motioned for them to let Ezra go and for Chris to let him take his place on the bed, then settled down beside the gambler.
Ezra looked up at the preacher... his eyes awash with tears, his pale face open and vulnerable. "Josiah... my father...."
Without a word, Josiah leaned over and scooped the unresisting Southerner up off of Buck and into his arms, pressing Ezra's tousled head against his broad chest with one huge hand while the other stroked gently up and down his back.
Josiah's loving gesture was all it took to unleash the gambler's emotions, and Ezra found himself wracked by deep, shuddering sobs that shook his slender frame and drew everyone in the room to him... to lay a comforting hand on him, to whisper soothing words... to grieve with him.
Abigail stepped into the room, her arms loaded with everything needed to tend to the wounds she'd known Ezra would have the minute she saw his arms go through the window. Her heart twisted at the sound of his weeping and at the sight of his six self-proclaimed brothers clustered around him. Not wishing to intrude on their privacy, Abigail set the items she carried on the dresser and left, quietly closing the door behind her.
Nathan had seen her and gratefully moved to take care of Ezra's injuries while the others continued to comfort him. He murmured a heart-felt thank you when he saw how thorough she'd been when gathering up the supplies. There were bandages, salve, needle and thread, clean rags, and fresh water... she hadn't missed a thing.
Buck saw what Nathan was doing and moved to help. He carefully loosened Ezra's grip on the back of Josiah's shirt and held his arms steady for the healer so he could check them out, grimacing at the number of cuts that were revealed.
The pain in Ezra's heart overshadowed that of his wounds, and he never even flinched when Nathan cleaned, stitched, and bandaged his hands and wrists... just continued to weep for the loss of the father he'd barely known.
By the time Nathan had finished, Ezra had calmed down some and they were able to lay him back against the pillows. Gratefully accepting the cloth Buck offered, he quickly wiped the evidence of his current emotional outburst off his face. Glancing up at the men gathered around him and giving them a small pained smile, he quietly said, "Perhaps we should rethink this relationship of ours. I seem to be developing a dismayin' propensity for public displays since the six of you decided I needed to be included in your family. I'm beginnin' to think I'd be better off back in my own isolated little world, at least then my dignity would still be intact."
Nathan had gathered up the soiled rags and basin and was headed out the door, but hearing Ezra's remarks, looked back at him and firmly stated, "Ain't nothin' undignified 'bout grievin', Ezra... it's jus' a natural part of life an' death."
Vin saw Ezra shiver and tugged the blanket up over him. "An' you got no call t' be embarrassed 'bout us seein' ya sufferin'."
JD sat down on the foot of the bed and rested his hand on the gambler's leg. "That's right, Ezra. We're your family, and if you hurt... we hurt. We just want to help ya through this. That's what families do, and it's somethin' you're just gonna have to get used to."
Ezra blushed slightly and gave JD a hesitant smile. "I am tryin', Mr. Dunne, and I want to assure all of you that I do sincerely appreciate everything you do for me. It's just not always easy for me to express it."
Josiah exchanged the wet rag Ezra still held for a cup of water and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Brother, you're not nearly as hard to read as you used to be, and we can tell us fussin' over you doesn't bother you quite as much as you try to make out."
"Thank you for warnin' me, Mr. Sanchez, I'll have to work harder to restore my poker face or my reputation will suffer, and my career as a gambler will be over." Ezra gave Josiah a small smile as he handed over the now empty cup.
Nathan caught Ezra wincing when he handled the mug and knew his hands were starting to hurt. "I'm gonna go brew up some tea for ya, Ezra." He saw the Southerner's smile falter and quickly added before leaving, "Don't worry, it's jus' for the pain of those cuts."
Ezra sighed in relief. The last thing he wanted at the moment was something that would put him to sleep and risk a return to his nightmare.
Chris had seen the exchange and understood the gambler's reluctance to go back to sleep, and thought it might help him to discuss what he'd dreamed. He at least wanted to let him know they were willing to stay up with him and listen. "Ezra? Would it help if ya talked about it?"
Ezra immediately felt his heart begin to pound at the thought of reliving what he'd just been through and started to shake his head no, but then realized that he would be going over and over it again in his mind anyway. At least this way he wouldn't be alone with his memories.
"It might, but surely you must all be tired—" He tried to offer them an out, but they quickly assured him they could catch some sleep later and were eager to hear what he'd remembered. So as soon as Nathan had returned with his tea, Ezra shakily began recounting what had happened in his nightmare.
He glanced at Vin, and even though his voice was fairly steady when he spoke, the pain of what he was saying was clearly evident in his eyes. "You were correct, Mr. Tanner. Matthew Delacourte did indeed kill my father, but it wasn't really murder. As much as I hate to admit it, his death was an accident." He saw the doubt on their faces and wearily explained, "It was a fight... Father saw Matthew throw me against the barn and attacked him. My father was built like me and... well, you've seen my uncle. He tossed him away like he was nothin', and when he landed... he... his head—" Ezra's voice broke as he again saw his father lying crumpled in the dirt.
Buck slipped an arm around Ezra's shoulders. "Easy, pard... you wanna stop?"
"No, now that I know what happened, I need to face it and deal with it," Ezra took several shaky breaths and began nervously plucking at the covers as he hesitantly continued, "and I'd... I'd rather not do it alone." Tears filled his eyes as the others immediately gathered around him on the bed, surrounding him in a protective ring of brotherhood.
Josiah gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "You never have to worry about doin' anything alone again, Ezra, unless it's what you want."
Ezra struggled to speak around the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat at Josiah's kind words. "I... thank you, gentlemen. You have no idea how much—"
"Ain't no need t' thank us, pard. Like the kid said, it's jus' what families do for one another... at least this one does." Vin returned Ezra's shy smile of gratitude and then took the pressure off of him by turning the conversation back to the subject of his nightmare. "So they were fightin' over you?"
Ezra nodded. "Basically, yes. Maybe I should start at the beginnin'." He stared down at his hands still toying restlessly with the blanket while the memories of that horrible day once more ran through his mind. "Uncle Matthew was draggin' me across the yard toward the... the whippin' post... shoutin' the whole time about teachin' me a lesson. He was angry because I'd allowed my father to see the bruises from an earlier punishment. I was... pleadin'... with him not to hurt me and tryin' to get away, when the girl came flyin' out of nowhere and tried to stop him." Ezra shook his head as he thought about the courage it must have taken for her to do what she did. "She was just a slip of a thing, definitely no match for that brute, but she didn't let that deter her in any way."
"'Manda?" Buck asked softly.
Ezra shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "I'm assumin' that's who it was, but although she seems familiar, and I do have strong feelin's for her, I just don't know what part she played in my life." A pained expression crossed his face at the thought of not being able to remember someone who had obviously cared so much for him... enough to risk and lose everything to save him. "She fought so hard...."
Nathan watched Ezra carefully and was just about to ask him if he was all right, when he gave himself a little shake and resumed speaking. He managed to describe the events leading up to his father's death and then had to stop again as he struggled once more with his emotions. Nathan waited a few moments before asking if he'd had enough.
Ezra shook his head firmly and blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. "No. I... want to finish." He cleared his throat and finally continued. "Matthew checked to make sure my father was... was... dead... and then grabbed me and tied me to the post. The girl must have been in shock at first, because she just kept starin' at my father's body and shaking. But once my uncle started... started whippin' me, she came out of it and tried again to stop him. She managed to get her hands on the belt, but he just threw her off into the dirt. Then he just seemed to forget about me and... and turned his attentions on... her. He... he... oh God...." Ignoring the pain from his cuts, Ezra gripped Chris's hand as he squeezed his eyes shut against the horrifying image that was burning itself into his mind.
Chris stared worriedly at Ezra... at his pale face twisted with the agony of remembering... at the tears that seeped out from under the dark lashes and trickled slowly down his cheeks... and wished that there was some way they could shoulder some of his burden, but he knew it was impossible. Oh, sure... they stood by him and made sure he wasn't alone, gave a sympathetic touch and comforting words, but Chris knew from experience that they simply could not take away any of his pain. The best they could hopefully do was make it easier for Ezra to bear, and that just didn't seem like enough. It left Chris and the others feeling helpless in the face of the young man's grief.
"Ezra." Chris waited for the gambler to open his eyes. "Why don't you let it go for now... get some rest. We can finish—"
"No! Please, Chris, I need to... to tell you...." Ezra sat up, pulled his hand away from the older man's, and angrily scrubbed away the tears. "I have to end this."
Vin saw Chris and Nathan both start to protest and quickly stepped in in Ezra's defense. "I think ya oughta let 'im finish if it's what he wants. Waitin' till tomorrow t' talk about it ain't gonna make it hurt any less."
Nathan tried reasoning with the obviously exhausted Southerner. "Ezra, you need t' rest. We jus' don't want ya gettin' sick."
"I reckon he knows if he's tired or not." Buck stared understandingly at the others. They all knew what was coming, knew exactly the horrific scene Ezra was about to describe and just didn't want it put into words. Maybe it wouldn't be real, wouldn't have happened if they just didn't have to actually hear those words. Lord knows, Buck didn't want to have to face what that inhuman bastard had done either, but Ezra needed to. And to Buck, that was all that mattered. Besides, he'd noticed something that no one else seemed to have caught... Ezra should have been in the middle of a raging headache by then and wasn't. Buck prayed JD had been right when he'd suggested they come there, and that now Ezra's nightmares would finally stop. He turned to the young gambler and asked softly, "What'd he do to her, pard?"
Ezra nodded thankfully at the two men and then dropped his gaze to his hands as he began describing the final terrifying scene of his nightmare. "She tried to run when he started toward her, but he... he hit her with that damned belt... put everything he had into it and... knocked her off her feet. She couldn't even scream... just lay there starin' up at him when he... when he...." Ezra clenched his fists in the blankets as he struggled to get the words out, and Buck and Vin quickly took his hands and held them still. He never even looked up at them, just wrapped his fingers tightly around theirs as he went on. "He threw himself on her and began... tearin' her... clothes... off. I was screamin' at him to stop... beggin' him not to hurt her, but he just ignored me and... and...." He stopped to take a shaky breath and then pushed on. "I saw him put his hands around her throat and I... closed my eyes. I just couldn't watch... anymore. But I heard everything... I can still hear everything. Him gruntin' as he... as he... assaulted... her. Her pitiful cries of pain and... and terror. Her gaspin' for breath while she begged... pleaded with him... to let her go." Ezra's voice was a hoarse, pain-filled whisper as he haltingly finished. "The... noises finally... stopped. The next thing I knew, Matthew was... was next to me... grabbin' my face and makin' me look... shoutin' at me to look at what I'd done. She was just lyin' there... so still and quiet... so broken. Just like my father. He started yellin' that it was my fault they were... dead... all because I didn't... obey... him. That's when he picked up that... damned belt... and... and... finished beatin' me." He raised tortured eyes to his friends, tears streaming down his face, and sobbed out, "It was all my fault. If I hadn't called out... to my... father—"
Buck wrapped his arms around him and held him while he cried.
Josiah stood and laid a gentle hand on Ezra's trembling shoulder as he tried to stop him from blaming himself. "It wouldn't have changed anything, son. You know that in your heart. Everything that happened that day was because of your uncle's pure evilness, not because of anything you did or didn't do." He saw the young Southerner nod and was satisfied that he at least had heard him and would hopefully consider his words. Josiah looked at the rest of the men and motioned toward the door. "I think our brother's ready for that rest now. Why don't we leave and try to get some more sleep ourselves."
The others all took their turn giving Ezra a reassuring touch and, like Josiah and Buck, insisted that he in no way was at fault, and then quietly filed out and left the two men alone.
Ezra's weeping gradually slowed, and it wasn't long before Buck felt him go limp in his arms as he drifted off into an exhausted slumber. He eased the smaller man back against the pillows and covered him up. Then, after draping a blanket over the broken window to keep out the night air, settled himself in the chair and, despite his determination to keep watch over the gambler, dozed off for a couple of hours of restless sleep... his dreams haunted by the same images that had tortured Ezra for over twenty years.
Matthew Delacourte made a few minor adjustments, and then stood and wiped the dirt off his hands before lifting the lantern overhead to illuminate his work. It had taken him most of the night to get everything ready, but he knew it was going to be worth it when he saw the expression on his young nephew's face.
"Perfect. Now as soon as the final guest arrives, we'll be ready for Ezra's surprise. I certainly hope he appreciates all the work I've gone to for his welcome home party."
Buck awoke shortly after dawn, and seeing Ezra still contentedly curled up under the covers asleep, decided to wander down to the kitchen and get the morning pot of coffee started. He knew the minute he headed down the stairs that Abigail had beaten him to the punch.
"Miz Abigail, you are a woman after my own heart." Buck swept into the kitchen, poured himself a mug of the strong brew, and planted a large, warm kiss on the smiling woman's rosy cheek.
Abigail blushed and gently pushed him into a chair. "Land sakes, if just a cup of coffee is enough to bring on a greetin' like that, I'm almost afraid to see what'll happen when I set breakfast on the table."
"Why, ma'am... that'll definitely get you a marriage proposal." Buck grinned and gave her a wink as he took another sip from his mug.
Abigail laughed and started to tell him she'd gladly accept, when the door opened and JD wandered sleepily into the kitchen. Yawning widely, he let her steer him into a chair and gratefully mumbled a thank you when she placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him.
Buck chuckled and gave him a light cuff on the shoulder as he sat down. "Lookin' a mite rough this mornin', JD."
JD stared down into his coffee for a moment and then turned his sad eyes on the older man. "I didn't sleep much. I kept thinkin' about that poor girl an' what happened to Ezra."
Buck's smile faded. "I know, kid... I've got a feelin' we all had that problem last night." His words were proven true as one by one the others slowly made their way down to the kitchen, each of them looking just as worn out as JD did. Soon, everyone but Ezra was gathered around the table downing cup after cup of Abigail's coffee in an attempt to drive away the troubled images that Ezra's horrifying tale had planted in their minds.
Nathan glanced over his mug at Buck and asked, "Ezra doin' okay?"
Buck nodded reassuringly at the worried healer. "Sleepin' like a baby when I came down." He looked around at the others and grinned. "Any one notice anything different about him last night?"
They all thought carefully before shaking their heads and asking what he meant.
"No headache... and considerin' how bad that nightmare was, he should've had a helluva one." Buck's grin widened when he saw them come to the same hopeful conclusion he had.
"You think maybe those damned dreams've gone away now he's finally remembered what they were about?" Chris looked to Nathan for confirmation and was pleased to see the dark healer slowly nodding his head.
"Won't be able t' really say for certain till he's gone awhile without 'em, but him not gettin' a headache last night is sure a good sign," Nathan replied, and then turned to Buck. "Did Ezra seem t' notice?"
Buck shook his head as he helped himself to another cup of coffee. "I doubt it. He fell asleep shortly after you all left."
"Well, it might be best if we don't mention it unless he does. Pointin' out that it all might be over could jus' get 'im worryin' 'bout it, an' thinkin' on somethin' like that can make it worse instead of better," Nathan saw them nod in agreement and continued, "but from the way it looks now, I think JD's idea just might've worked."
JD's face lit up at the pride he saw in his friends' faces when they looked at him, and it thankfully pushed the horrible images of that poor girl to the back of his mind.
The air of despondency that had enveloped the group since they'd heard the remaining details of Ezra's nightmare finally lifted and was replaced with a grim determination to find a way to make Matthew Delacourte pay for what he'd done.
When Ezra entered the kitchen a short while later, it was to the welcome sight of his friends' smiling faces, and Abigail preparing a breakfast big enough to feed a small army.
"It's about time you got yourself down here, young man. I was about ready to send one of the others up to drag you out of that bed," Abigail said when she saw him walk in.
Ezra joined the others at the table and poured himself a cup of coffee, and then nearly choked on his first sip when he looked up and saw the six rather evil grins aimed his way. He quickly realized it would have been quite a rude awakening if one of his loving brothers had been sent to retrieve him. "Must have been my innate talent for self-preservation that brought me out of my—" He was interrupted by a light knock on the door.
Everyone was startled by the thud of Ezra's mug when it hit the table, sloshing hot coffee out onto the gambler's hand as he stared in astonishment at the person who had entered the kitchen.
Looking up curiously, the others saw that their visitor was a small elderly black woman carrying a large basket of eggs in her arms. She gave the group of men gathered around the table the briefest of glances, and then turned to speak to Abigail as she gratefully set her burden down on the counter.
The men turned their attention back to Ezra as he slowly rose out of his chair, absent-mindedly wiping his wet hand on his leg as he whispered, "Belle?"
The woman's head shot around when she heard her name, and her wrinkled face lit up as she stared at the young man with the familiar green eyes who was quickly making his way around the table toward her. "Ezra? Child... is that really you?"
Everyone watched in amazement as Ezra swooped her off her feet into a huge bear hug and smilingly swung her around in a circle before depositing her beside him and kissing her affectionately on the cheek. He kept his arms around her as she tearfully reached up and cupped his face in her shaking hands, and then he grinned at her and whispered, "Did you miss me, darlin'?"
Belle shook her head and pulled him down into a tight hug as her tears flowed harder. "Oh Lord, sweetpea, you have no idea jus' how much I missed you... how much I been worryin' 'bout you."
Chris saw Vin and Buck exchange grins and mouth, 'sweet pea?' and knew that Ezra was going to be a long time living this one down.
Ezra returned her hug and had to blink back his own tears as he straightened and turned to introduce her to his friends. "Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet the person who was solely responsible for me survivin' that nightmare."
Belle looked quizzically up at Ezra, but waited until after she'd been warmly greeted and thanked by each of the six men before asking what he'd meant.
The others made room for her at the table, and after Ezra had her settled next to him, he haltingly explained everything that had been happening in his life... about his nightmares and the resultant headaches, his newly discovered relationship with David and Katherine Standish... and what exactly had happened the day of the whipping. Belle was stunned by all she learned, but sat quietly as Ezra talked, tenderly taking him in her arms and rocking him when the memories became too painful for him to continue. As she soothed him with her adamant demands that he wasn't to be blaming himself, his friends took over and finished the tale for him.
Belle watched the men carefully while they talked, and her heart was comforted with the realization that Ezra had finally found the family he'd been deprived of his whole life. After seeing the compassionate looks and touches they gave him, and hearing the lengths they'd gone to to help him, she knew she could quit worrying about her boy... these men would do everything they could to keep him safe... even risk their own lives.
The ex-slave nodded when they reached the part about the young girl and then sadly filled in that last missing piece of the puzzle. Amanda. She'd been a young fourteen year old slave who had been allowed to help out in the kitchen because Ezra's uncle had taken a liking to her and wanted her handy for whenever he felt a need for her services. She'd felt sorry for the lonely little boy and had taken him under her wing... helping with his chores as much as she could and climbing up the tree outside his window to sneak him food and to keep him company when he was locked away during Delacourte's absences. Belle told them that the Master had explained her disappearance by saying she'd tried to interfere in Ezra's punishment and had been immediately sold away to another plantation. "The whippin' post was down behind the barn outta sight of the big house an' the fields, so we never saw what really happened. Onliest thing we knew was that Ezra'd been whipped... whipped bad. Didn't even know it was gonna happen till Master carried his limp, bloodied body into the house an' handed 'im t' me... tol' me t' take care of 'im an' make sure he didn't die, or I'd get the same punishment he did. As if a threat of a beatin' could hurt me more than seein' what he'd done t' my sweetpea."
Belle hugged Ezra tighter, gently stroking her small hands over his back as if reassuring herself that he was really okay. "We 'most lost 'im when the 'fection set in. He burned so hot with the fever for so long that we thought for sure he weren't gonna make it, but it finally broke an' he slowly started gettin' better. He never could tell us what happened... why he was beat. That fever messed his memory up somethin' awful. We knew it was bad though since Master was most always careful t' not draw no blood when he whipped Ezra... didn't want no one t' know what he was doin'. Soon's his back healed up, his mama was sent for an' she come an' took 'im away. Never saw 'im again till he come back for a short spell when he was 'round twenty or so."
Ezra pulled away and shook his head warningly at the old woman. "Belle... don't—"
But Belle wasn't about to be put off and shushed him with a light slap on the arm. "After all that time, he jus' showed up here one day with a pocketful of money an' handed it over t' me. Tol' me t' buy my own place. Me an' my husband, Joseph, was workin' for the local banker at the time, an' he said he didn't want us slavin' for no one no more. I tol' 'im I couldn't take his money, but he said if it weren't for me, he never would've survived what his uncle put 'im through. Said I was more of a mother to 'im than his own mama ever thought of bein', an' he needed t' do somethin' for me t' thank me." She turned to Ezra and gently took his hand. "Well, I argued some, but then I could see I'se jus' gonna hurt my boy if I turned 'im down, so I let 'im do what he felt he had t'. He bought us a little farm down on the river, an' soon's we was settled, he left, an' I never saw 'im again till today."
Ezra looked up and sighed when he saw the expression on Nathan's face. "Unruffle your moralistic feathers, Mr. Jackson, I came by the money honestly. Mother's third... or was it fourth... husband had passed on and, amazing as it may seem, he actually had a bit of a soft spot for me and left me a tidy sum of money. It was enough to purchase the farm and still allow me to finally make the break from Mother that I'd waited so long for."
Nathan blushed and immediately regretted what he'd been thinking. "I'm sorry, Ezra. I shoulda knowed—"
But Ezra shook his head and stopped him. "No need to apologize, Mr. Jackson. It was a natural assumption given my rather checkered past, but I can assure you, I would never have dishonored this beautiful soul by offerin' her tainted money." Ezra put his arm around Belle's shoulders and grinned down at her. "Besides, she would have tanned my hide if I had even attempted it."
Vin scowled at Nathan and then turned to Ezra. "How come ya never suggested talkin' t' Belle when we was tryin' t' figger out what happened in your dreams?"
Ezra shook his head and pulled Belle protectively against him. "For the exact same reason I stayed away all these years... for her safety. I couldn't risk puttin' her in danger by lettin' Uncle Matthew see her associatin' with me. He'd jump at the chance to go after her and Joseph, and I would rather have lived the rest of my life with those nightmares than to bring harm to them in any way."
Nathan stared at Ezra with a new respect in his eyes, and then shifted his gaze to the diminutive woman who sat staring proudly up at the handsome gambler. "Ma'am? I'm jus' curious... why didn't ya take that money Ezra gave ya an' buy a place somewhere up north... somewhere safer."
Belle stared at him in surprise. "Because this is my home."
Nathan shook his head in confusion. "But you were free t' go anywhere ya wanted. Ya coulda got away from here. Away from Delacourte... away from... everything."
"Runnin' away ain't bein' free... it's still bein' his slave an' doin' jus' what he wants me to. 'Sides, ya cain't outrun your memories... they's always gonna be with ya. But bein' free means ya don't have t' live 'em no more... ya can put 'em in the past where they belong." Belle watched Nathan's face as he realized she was talking about him, too, not just herself, and saw understanding appear in his eyes as the truth of her words hit home.
Ezra looked at Nathan and then hugged Belle gratefully when he realized that she may have just helped his friend lay his demons to rest.
The next hour was spent talking, with Belle giving them what little information she had about Delacourte, including the fact that he'd put his wife in a mental asylum after a failed suicide attempt, and that his children, who had fought the decision, had moved away as soon as they were old enough and refused to have any further contact with their father.
Abigail had quietly continued with her cooking while the others talked, and though her heart ached to discover just how horrible Ezra's childhood had been, she was pleased to see the healing effect of Belle's presence on him... and apparently on his friend, Mr. Jackson.
Sensing the conversation was coming to an end, Abigail approached the table with the first of several platters of food and a fresh pot of coffee. "Anyone hungry?"
The response was immediate, and she was quickly relieved of her burden and ordered to sit as the men hurried to lay out the small feast. Belle refused their offer to join them, announcing that she'd already eaten and really needed to get back before her husband started to worry about her, and so Ezra reluctantly escorted her out to her buggy.
After a rather tearful goodbye on both their parts, Ezra stood and waited until Belle had ridden out of sight, and then turned and slowly made his way back into the house. Knowing they were probably being watched, concern for her safety was now added to that which he already felt for his friends.
Ezra went back into the kitchen and rejoined the others. Before he had even settled in his chair, Nathan had a plateful of food ready for him, and Abigail had refilled his mug with fresh coffee. With a smiling thank you to their hostess and an exasperated frown at the overzealous healer, Ezra began eating.
At first, his thoughts were still on Belle, but after a few minutes, he gradually became aware of the discussion his companions were having... how to take Matthew Delacourte down. Ezra felt a stab of fear as he realized they were about to put themselves in danger for him again, but as his gaze slowly wandered from one of his friends to the next, observing all their various injuries, the fear began to recede, and he got angry instead. Angry at the feeling of helplessness that had consumed him since his nightmares had taken over his life, angry at himself for sitting back and letting the others risk their lives trying to protect him, but most of all, he was angry that Matthew had stolen one family from him and was now trying to destroy another. Well, this time the son of a bitch wasn't going to succeed. Chris had been right. Once he was ready... once the dark terror of his nightmares had been brought out into the daylight and exposed... the confusion and fear had washed away and was being replaced by resentment and anger. More than anything, Ezra wanted to see his uncle pay for what he'd done, but he refused to allow his friends to come to any more harm because of him.
"Please... stop."
Vin, who was sitting next to Ezra, was the only one who heard him speak. "Ezra? What'd you say?"
The others all ceased talking and turned to the gambler.
"I said stop. I've had enough. Too much of my life's been wasted because of that bastard, and now that we've solved the mystery of my nightmares, I... I just want to go home." Ezra saw them all staring incredulously at him and quickly ducked his head, unsure of how well he'd be able to hide his true feelings from them now. Buck had gotten fairly proficient at reading him, and Ezra was afraid he'd see through the lie.
JD recovered first. "You're kidding... right, Ezra? You don't really want to let your uncle get away with what he did, do ya?"
Ezra risked a quick look at the younger man and then dropped his head again as he toyed with the food on his plate. "Of course, I'd prefer to see that vile bastard brought to justice, Mr. Dunne, but I'm simply bein' realistic... there is no possible way that that is goin' to happen. And I absolutely refuse to allow y'all to put yourselves in danger again or to risk goin' to prison for me."
Vin shook his head at his southern friend. "There's gotta be some way t'—"
Ezra's head shot up, his expression clearly revealing all the anger and frustration he was feeling. "Even if we somehow managed to have him arrested, what judge or jury in their right minds would convict a respected, long-time member of the community on the tangled, twenty-three year old memories of an itinerant gambler and con man?!"
Josiah reached across the table and placed a calming, supportive hand over Ezra's. "Reformed gambler and con man. That's a very important distinction you're leaving out."
Ezra jerked his hand away and uttered a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, I'm sure that would just make all the difference in the world to a jury of Uncle Matthew's peers." He closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths, and then apologized to Abigail and the others for his ungentlemanly outburst.
Carefully setting his fork down on the table, Ezra took his napkin, delicately wiped his mouth, and then pushed his chair back and stood up. "I want you all to understand that I truly do appreciate everything you've done to give me my life back. You'll never know how much your... caring... and support mean to me, but now you've got to let me take control again, let me make my own decisions. And I feel that the slim chance we have of seein' my uncle pay for his crimes is not worth the risk of further harm comin' to any of you."
Chris stared at the younger man for a moment and then finally nodded. "You're right, it should be your decision. If you say it's over... it's over." He saw the disbelief on the faces of the others and ignored it. "When do you want to leave?"
Ezra felt Buck's eyes on him and knew that his friend was attempting to see past the mask of indifference that he was struggling to keep in place. "Thank you, Chris... as soon as possible. I'm goin' to Katharine's to tell her what I... what I remembered about our father's death and to inform her of our plans to return home, but then I'd like us to catch the first available train, if we could."
"Whatever you want." Chris cut off the round of protests from the others with a silencing glare and then turned his attention back to the gambler as he walked toward the door. "You want someone to ride along with ya, Ezra?"
"No!" Ezra winced at the curious looks his quick denial garnered him and mentally kicked himself for letting his control slip. His tone turned defensive in an effort to deter any further questions. "I can assure you, Mr. Larabee, I am in no need of a guard dog. I realize I haven't exactly been doin' an impressive job of it lately, but I am quite capable of takin' care of myself."
JD shot a bewildered look around the table as the door banged shut behind Ezra, and asked, "What the heck was that all about?"
Chris glanced at Buck and nodded when he saw him already headed toward the door. "That was our out-of-practice con man tryin' to protect us."