Ezra felt the world around him begin to slip away as he slowly floated closer to the void, and nearly wept with joy as the peace he'd sensed waiting for him there crept out and gently caressed the frayed edges of his soul. Suddenly a brilliant stream of light split the darkness in front of the gambler, and he moved eagerly toward it, knowing in his heart that it promised an end to his pain and suffering.
Just as Ezra felt the first golden rays of the light brush across his skin, a voice spoke to him out of the darkness, startling him and pushing him back slightly.
"No, Ezra... not yet."
The voice spoke softly, surrounding him with a comforting warmth. But Ezra fought against it, straining to touch the glowing beacon and its promise of peace that hovered just out of his reach.
"Please... I'm ready. I want to go."
Again Ezra's attempts to move were halted as a shadowy form appeared in front of him, blocking the square of light and weakening its seductive pull.
"You have to go back, Ezra. Your friends need you."
Ezra stared hard at the shape floating before him... something about it and the voice were so familiar. No... it... it couldn't be. "F-Father?"
Ezra's eyes filled with tears as the shadow drifted closer, and he recognized the kind, loving man whom he'd known in his childhood as Uncle David... his father.
"Buck needs you, Ezra."
Ezra started to deny his father's words, but he stopped as a pale, ghostly arm reached out, and gentle fingers stroked lightly across his forehead.
Buck's thoughts suddenly filled his mind, and Ezra shuddered as all the pain, fear, and worry that his friend was feeling flowed through him. <<Oh God, he's blamin' himself. Buck, no... please... don't do that to yourself... not for me. Please....>>
"You have to go back to him. He's your friend. Would you have him live with the same misplaced guilt you've suffered with all these years?"
David Standish saw understanding and regret appear in his son's sad green eyes and knew he was ready. He reached out and placed his hand on Ezra's chest, holding it there for a minute until he felt Ezra's heart beat softly against his palm, and then released him with a gentle push.
Ezra sobbed brokenly as his father disappeared and he felt himself being drawn slowly away from the light. But just before he was plunged back into the pain and terror of his world, his father's voice reached through the darkness and whispered softly in his ear, soothing away his fear and infusing him with renewed strength and hope.
"I'm proud of you, son... I love you."///
Chris never slowed his horse as he swooped down on Delacourte, leaping out of the saddle at the last possible minute and knocking the crazed Southerner away from Ezra. The impact with the hard ground winded both men, but it was only a matter of seconds before they were rolling across the yard together, exchanging punishing blows powered by rage and hate.
JD and Josiah rode around the two men grappling in the yard and leaped from their horses to release a frantically struggling Buck, who kept his panicked gaze on Ezra as he shouted at them to hurry.
Buck felt JD's arm snake around his waist, ready to take his weight as Josiah started freeing him from the blood-encrusted ropes. He knew the younger man had seen his back by the shudder that ran through him, and wanted to look at him, to reassure him he was all right, but Buck was terrified that if he took his eyes off of Ezra for even a minute or stopped talking to him, that they'd lose the gambler. So while JD held onto him, Buck held onto Ezra the best way he could... cajoling, pleading, threatening... praying that something he said would give the younger man the strength he needed to stay with them.
And just as Josiah loosened the last knot, Buck was finally rewarded for his efforts when he saw Ezra's lids flutter and slowly open. The green eyes were glazed and filled with pain, but at least there was still a flicker of life in them as they latched onto Buck's.
Relief flooded through Buck, and he continued his soft litany of encouragement to the gambler. "That's it, pard... just hang onto me. Nathan and Vin are right there with ya... everything's gonna be okay now."
Josiah had taken a quick look at Buck's back and knew his wounds should be taken care of soon, but he also knew the younger man wouldn't allow it as long as Ezra needed him. So instead, he and JD gave Buck the only help they knew he would accept at that moment... they took as much of his weight off his shaking legs as they could, and slowly guided him over to Ezra.
Nathan and Vin were sickened when they reached Ezra and got a closer look at the damage that had been done to the gambler's body. Both men were too stunned at first to do anything but stare... their heart's twisting painfully in their chests with the certainty that they were too late... that he'd already left them. But then, with a soft moan, Ezra slowly raised his head and opened his eyes.
With a silent prayer of thanks, Vin and Nathan moved forward to help him. Keeping their voices low and gentle, they spoke reassuringly to the dazed gambler as they searched futilely for some way to support him without hurting him further. Vin finally wrapped his arms low around Ezra's hips and lifted him up slightly to ease the pull on his mangled wrists, while Nathan tried to find a way to release him.
"Hell..." Nathan cursed as he stared helplessly at the tracker. "Damned things are bolted in there solid. We gotta have the key."
"Delacourte's got it."
Glancing up, Vin was relieved to see Buck stagger up to them. He was panting from the exertion and leaning heavily on Josiah and JD, but at least he was still with them. "Good t' see ya, Bucklin."
Buck shook his head and gave the sharpshooter a hard smile as he replied, "Not half as good as it is to see all of you." His expression softened as he stared into Ezra's eyes and saw them brighten slightly with recognition. "Hey, there."
"... m-made... it." Ezra's voice shook and was rough with pain, but to Buck it was the sweetest music he'd ever heard.
"You bet we did, pard..." Buck tried, but just couldn't hold back the tears as he reached out and gently cupped the back of Ezra's head and pressed it lightly against his own, "you bet we did."
Nathan tried to get a look at the gunfighter's back, but Buck just shook him off and ordered him to take care of Ezra.
"No... you f-first." Seeing the distress on the gambler's face, Buck relented and allowed Josiah to tend to him while Nathan did what he could for Ezra.
Nathan felt anger and disgust boiling up in him as he began taking stock of Ezra's injuries. Lord knows, as a former slave he was sadly familiar with and sickened by the destruction one human being could inflict on another, but to have it done to you by your own flesh and blood....
Nathan's gaze followed that of the others as he turned his attention away from Ezra for a moment to check on the battle still raging out in the yard. Hatred, the likes of which he hadn't felt since his time as a slave, filled his heart as his eyes fell on Matthew Delacourte, and a small grim smile of satisfaction appeared on his face as he watched Chris wrap his fingers in the other man's hair and begin pounding his head against the hard-packed earth.
Knowing the others would take care of Buck and Ezra, Chris pushed his worry for them to the back of his mind and put all his concentration into making Matthew Delacourte pay for thinking he could touch any of his men.
Delacourte was taller and heavier, and had excelled at boxing in college. Under normal circumstances, Chris wouldn't have stood a chance against him. But things were far from normal, and the rage that powered Chris's attack was so strong and burned so deeply that it completely negated any advantage Delacourte might have had over him.
The first thing Matthew had done was go for his gun, but Chris was faster and had ripped the weapon out of his grasp, tossing it over near Vin and the others. With an evil grin, Chris had then quickly slipped his own gun out of its holster and sent it flying across the yard as well. "No men... no weapons. Let's just see how damned tough ya are when ya don't have nothin' or no one to hide behind."
With a growl of frustration, Delacourte had surged upward and thrown Chris off, but the wiry blond had been back on him before the big man could even get to his feet.
Blows were exchanged fairly evenly at first, but years of sitting back and letting his men do all his dirty work for him had made the Southerner soft, and it wasn't long before he slowly began to lose ground against Larabee's unleashed fury.
Wrapping both hands around the larger man's wrist, Chris spun him around and slammed him face first into the barn. Delacourte heard the crunch of bone breaking just before an explosion of pain shot through his head. The agonized scream that erupted from his throat turned into a roar of rage as he reached up and touched his rapidly swelling and misshapen nose. With a speed and agility belying his age and size, Matthew spun around and threw himself at Chris, catching him off-guard and driving him away from the barn.
Chris tried to resist Delacourte's charge, but he was still suffering some pain and dizziness from the bullet wound he'd gotten the day before, and it was all he could do just to stay on his feet as he was quickly shoved backward. He was finally regaining his balance when his boot heel struck Haskins' body, and the next thing he knew, he was lying flat on his back in the dirt with Delacourte sprawled across him.
Josiah saw JD move to help him and quickly grabbed the youth. "Not yet, son... Chris can handle him."
JD glared angrily up at the preacher and tried to pull away. "Like hell he can! He's hurt, remember?! He needs our help!"
Josiah kept his grip on JD's shoulder and tugged the youth back against him. "No... this is what Chris needs... the chance to pay Delacourte back... to work off all the hate and rage that has been building in him ever since he first heard what that son of a bitch did to Ezra when he was a child. You step in before he's ready, JD, and he'll resent you for taking that chance away from him."
JD realized Josiah was right, but it didn't make it any easier to stand back and just watch. He quit trying to pull away from the bigger man, but he still stood tensed and ready, his hands on his guns, his eyes trained on Chris.
Matthew was sweating heavily and gasping for air as he struggled to raise himself up, and Chris knew he was weakening. Grabbing two handfuls of the Southerner's ruffled shirt, he pushed off with his legs and managed to roll them over so that he was on top. Chris quickly straddled the other man, pinning his arms at his sides, and proceeded to finish him off.
Two vicious back-handed slaps left them both splattered with blood... some from the steady stream that already poured from the Southerner's broken nose, and the rest from a cut Chris had just opened up on the man's cheek. Delacourte squirmed weakly underneath the enraged gunfighter, but didn't have enough strength left to push him off.
Chris reared back and put everything he had into a flurry of punches that soon had the older man begging for mercy and gagging as blood gushed from his torn mouth and lips. "Please... no more...."
Chris merely shook his head and laughed harshly when he heard Delacourte's pleading groan. Tangling his fingers in the Southerner's brown curls, Chris began slowly pounding the other man's head against the ground.
"No more my ass, you son of a bitch. You haven't even begun to pay for what ya did to my men."
Another hit. Another cry of pain.
"Not so tough now, are ya, you bastard. How do ya like takin' on someone who's not tied up or too little to fight back?"
Chris felt Delacourte's body go limp and saw his eyes start to roll up into his head. Releasing his grip on the older man's hair, Chris again grabbed the front of his shirt and heaved himself to his feet, hauling Matthew up with him.
Shaking the other man to bring him back, Chris jerked him in close and fastening his steely green eyes on Delacourte's swollen pale blue ones, growled, "No one hurts my family and gets away with it... no one."
The blond gunman drew his arm back to deliver what he hoped would be the killing blow, but was stopped by Vin's quiet voice as he came up behind him.
"Chris, remember your promise to the Judge."
"Fuck that promise! This bastard deserves to die!" Chris's arm remained rigidly cocked beside his head, and his whole body shook with the urge to send Delacourte to hell where he belonged.
"Hell yeah, he deserves it, but it ain't what Ezra wants." Vin's gaze held steady under the glare Chris shot him. "The Judge was right. Ezra was already carryin' a load of guilt from when he was a kid, an' he's had a heap more piled on 'im since we got here. He can't handle anymore, cowboy. You kill his uncle like this an' go t' jail for it, an' you're gonna be killin' Ezra, too."
Chris shifted his eyes to Ezra, who was staring pleadingly at him.
"Don't... please." The weakness and fragility of that usually strong, self-confident southern drawl nearly broke Chris's heart.
Looking back at the man hanging limply in his tight-fisted grip, the blond shook his head in frustration. "Damn it... what if he gets off? How will Ezra live with that... knowing the bastard's still out there waitin' for 'im?"
"We'll jus' have t' make sure he don't get off." Vin's blue eyes had hardened with determination. "Nathan an' JD can take Buck an' Ezra back t' town, an' you, me, an' Josiah can round up those fellas we saw runnin' when we first got here. I don't think it'll take much persuadin' t' convince 'em t' talk now. An' I figger when most of the rest of the people in town see Delacourte's own men turnin' on 'im, they'll do the same."
Chris cast one last glance at Ezra, then reluctantly lowered his arm and with a snarl of disgust, released Delacourte, watching with satisfaction as he stumbled backwards, twisted in a slow circle, and slipped bonelessly to the ground beside Haskins.
Chris reached up, tiredly wiped the sweat out of his eyes, and turned to join the others.
Vin moved past Chris and knelt beside Delacourte's battered body, answering the blond's questioning look with an angrily muttered, "Bastard's got the keys t' Ezra's shackles."
Roughly digging through the unconscious man's pockets, Vin finally found them and hurried back over to free Ezra.
After JD had located the well and brought back a bucket of water, Josiah had cleaned and bandaged Buck's wounds as best he could and was helping Nathan with Ezra. They'd tried to convince Buck to sit down, but he'd refused and now stood leaning heavily against the post, one hand wrapped loosely around the gambler's neck as he quietly talked to him, trying to give Ezra something to focus on other than the pain.
Chris walked up beside Buck and Ezra and felt a fresh surge of anger rush through him when he got a close look at what had been done to them.
Both men's torsos were swathed in several layers of bandages which were already stained with fresh spots of blood, and both sported a nasty assortment of scrapes and bruises on their faces and over the rest of their bodies. White strips of cloth also encircled Buck's wrists, but Ezra's were still confined in the shackles. Blood seeped out from under the metal bands and trickled down to join that flowing from the lash marks on the gambler's arms and shoulders.
Vin stood waiting with the keys to free Ezra, while Nathan tended to his legs. He'd taken several hard blows from the whip on the backs of both legs, and the healer was taking the added precaution of wrapping them before they lowered him to the ground to try and keep as much dirt as possible out of the wounds.
When Nathan was ready, Vin handed him the keys and got a careful grip on Ezra's arms to hold them steady while the taller man unlocked the shackles and removed them. Both men winced when they saw the condition of the gambler's wrists and hands. The delicate skin on his wrists had been rubbed raw by the harsh metal, and the cuts Ezra had received from the broken window the night before had been torn open, and the bandages covering them were dirty and blood- stained.
Josiah and JD, who had taken over for Vin when the other man had gone to deal with Chris, tightened their hold on the Southerner as the tracker and Nathan slowly lowered his arms. Ezra cried out as stiffened muscles began to cramp and feeling rushed back into his hands.
Buck's heart clenched as the gambler's eyes, still locked onto his, widened with the flash of renewed pain. Shrugging off Chris's supporting hand, he leaned in to pull Ezra into his arms before carefully easing them both to the ground.
"Buck..." The smaller man moaned softly and pressed his face hard into Buck's shoulder in an effort to escape the burning and throbbing pain that seemed to envelop his entire body.
"I gotcha, pard. You just rest here against me while Nathan finishes takin' care of ya." Buck stroked his hand soothingly through Ezra's sweat-soaked hair as he held him against his chest, doing his best to keep the smaller man calm as Nathan and Josiah started working on his arms.
Chris sent Vin and JD off to round up their horses and to find a wagon they could use, and then crouched down beside the two men.
"How you boys doin'?" Chris's voice shook slightly with the realization of how close they'd come to losing the two of them.
"We'll be doin' a hell of a lot better once we get away from this damned place. Isn't that right, pard?" Buck and Chris were both relieved to see Ezra slowly lift his head and give them a weak grin. The pain was still there, dulling the usual brightness of the Southerner's eyes, but the intensity of it had eased somewhat now that the numbing properties of Nathan's salve had finally begun to do their job.
"Absolutely... Mr. Wilmington. I believe I've... had enough of... my uncle's... questionable... hospitality." Ezra started to put his head back down, but suddenly he stiffened and began to struggle against Buck's hold on him.
Delacourte slowly returned to consciousness and lay quietly with his eyes closed while he tried to get his bearings. He heard voices near the barn, and it all came back to him in an angry rush... the beating... a vague memory of his men leaving... the fight with Larabee.
Opening his eyes a fraction, he stared into the lifeless face of Jacob Haskins. Matthew let his gaze shift slightly and saw that his right hand lay within inches of the dead man's holster. Sweat trickled down his neck as he took stock of his situation. Larabee and the others were back by the barn, but he had no way of knowing their exact positions, and he didn't dare risk a look because if they saw he was awake, they'd most likely tie him up, ruining any chance he had of getting out of this mess.
Delacourte listened carefully to what was going on behind him as he weighed his meager options. Two deep voices, one he recognized as that of the healer, discussed their dwindling supply of bandages and the urgent need for a way to transport the two injured men back to the boardinghouse. Larabee sent two of his men off to find a wagon and then began speaking quietly to Wilmington. Suddenly his nephew's shaky drawl joined in the conversation. Son of a bitch... the little bastard was still alive!
Reason fled as mindless fury took over. Delacourte's hand crept out and eased Haskins' gun out of its holster. His survival wasn't even a consideration anymore as he quietly checked the weapon, ensuring that it was fully loaded. He knew he was going to die. The only thing that mattered to him now was taking Ezra, and as many of his friends as he could, with him.
Gathering the remainder of his waning strength, Matthew heaved himself to his feet, turned, and fired.
Ezra glanced behind Buck as his head started to drop back onto the other man's shoulder and, to his horror, saw his uncle rising and turning toward them. Catching the glint of sunlight off of metal, the gambler jerked his arm out of Nathan and Josiah's grasp, and in one smooth movement, snagged the healer's gun and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.
Ezra felt Chris moving with him, and as one, they pulled Buck out of the way, raised their guns, and fired.
The others were startled to hear three shots ring out, not having seen what was transpiring behind them. By the time they realized what was happening, it was over.
Chris and Ezra stood together, their smoking guns still held out in front of them, and Buck tucked protectively between them. While across the yard, Delacourte lay sprawled in the dirt... unseeing eyes staring up at the sky... one bullet hole drilled right in the middle of his forehead and the other directly through his heart.
Recovering from the shock of what had happened, Vin and the others quickly surrounded the three men.
Nathan began checking them over and immediately found where the third bullet had gone... a shallow furrow had been gouged in the outside of Ezra's right biceps and was oozing a steady stream of blood. But the gambler was beyond knowing or caring that his uncle had succeeded in hitting him. Shock had finally set in and Ezra stood frozen in place, shaking and sweating profusely, his arm still extended in front of him, the pistol still clenched tightly in his fist... completely oblivious to the world around him.
Nathan tried to ease the gun out of Ezra's hand, but the slender fingers remained locked around the weapon.
"Ezra?"
Nothing. No answering nod, not even a twitch or flicker of an eye.
Buck slipped an arm around the smaller man's waist, and glanced worriedly at the dark healer. "He's cold, Nathan."
Nathan gently grasped Ezra's chin and tipped his face toward him so he could see into his eyes. Empty... their green depths devoid of any signs of life whatsoever. Patting lightly at the pale, bruised cheek, Nathan tried again. "Ezra? Can ya hear me?"
He waited a few seconds and then shook his head at the others waiting anxiously to hear their friend's reassuring drawl. "He's in shock. Not surprisin' considerin' what all he's been through today. Talk to 'im, Buck... we need t' get 'im back 'fore he slips too far away from us."
Buck leaned in to speak softly in Ezra's ear. "It's okay, pard... it's over. You're safe... we're all safe now." He felt the other man shiver slightly and continued, encouraged by even that much of a reaction. "Come on, Ezra... ya got ol' Nathan kinda worried here. How 'bout ya say a few words to 'im so's he knows you're all right, and then we can get outta here an' go home."
Ezra's head moved jerkily back and forth and a breathy moan whispered across his swollen lips. "Nooo.... "
Chris took Nathan's place in front of Ezra and wrapped his fingers around the younger man's trembling hand and the gun it still held. "It's okay, Ezra... you can let go now. We got the son of a bitch." The gambler's eyes shifted to Delacourte's lifeless body, and Chris watched as they filled with confusion and worry. "He can't hurt you anymore, Ezra... never again." He felt Ezra's grip loosen and eased the gun out of his hand, passing it behind him to Josiah.
Tears slowly began to trickle down Ezra's face and tremors shook his slender form as he stared at his uncle. The adrenaline that had gotten him onto his feet and kept him going during the shootout was quickly draining away.
"Come on, Ezra, let's sit ya down here before ya fall." Nathan took Ezra's arm to help Buck lower him to the ground, but the Southerner pulled away from them and took a few shaky steps before stopping and swaying dangerously. Vin and Chris grabbed him and steadied him, but he still refused to sit down.
"No... please... I have t'—, I need—" Ezra sobbed in frustration as he tried once again to get away and failed. The distress on his face was heart-breaking, and it was clear to the others that he was only moments away from a total collapse.
Vin wrapped an arm around the gambler's shoulders and spoke softly to him. "What do ya need t' do, Ezra? Jus' tell me an' we'll help ya."
Ezra turned his head and stared into Vin's eyes for a moment before allowing himself to lean into the tracker's comforting strength. "My... my f-father. I... need t'—" His voice hitched weakly and dropped to a faint pain-filled whisper. "Please, Vin...."
Vin just nodded at the other man and looked up at Chris.
Chris immediately slid his arm around Ezra's waist, and he and Vin took most of the gambler's weight and slowly walked with him across the yard.
Nathan tore his eyes away from the frail Southerner and turned to Josiah and JD. "Ya better gather up the horses an' find us a wagon. It ain't gonna be long before Ezra passes out, an' I wanna be able t' leave for town jus' as soon as he does." He grabbed Buck's arm as he saw him begin to sway. "We need t' get him an' this one back t' the boardin'house soon as we can."
Buck made a weak attempt to tug his arm out of the healer's grip, his eyes never leaving Ezra, but Nathan held fast, frowning at his stubbornness. "I'm fine, Nathan, now let me go, damn it."
Nathan just stared pointedly at Buck.
The mustached gunman's skin was gray under the darkening bruises, blood had soaked through the bandages in several places, and he was weaving on his feet, nearly as close to collapsing as Ezra was.
JD shook his head as he and Josiah walked away. "Give it up, Buck. You've lost this one for sure."
Nathan stopped them long enough to tell them to check the house for a mattress and blankets to pad the wagon with before turning and helping Buck over to where Ezra, Chris, and Vin now knelt beside the remains of David Standish and Amanda.
As they got closer, the two men had to swallow back their own tears as they heard Ezra weeping softly.
Vin still had his arm draped lightly across the gambler's bare shoulders while Chris had his fingers wrapped around Ezra's, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles over the back of the smaller man's slender hand.
Vin was speaking softly to the grieving man, reassuring him that everything would be all right. "Don't ya worry none, Ezra, we'll see t' your pa an' the girl. Ain't nothin' gonna hurt 'em no more."
"Thank you, Vin." Ezra's voice was choked with the sobs he was trying valiantly to hold back.
Vin saw Nathan and Buck approaching and, with a last squeeze to Ezra's shoulders, moved out of their way.
The healer eased Buck down beside Ezra and, touching the gambler's bowed head, spoke a few words of condolence and support before slowly backing away.
Chris gently untangled his fingers from Ezra's and, turning the Southerner's care over into Buck's willing hands, pushed himself wearily up off the ground and went to stand beside the others.
Buck reached out and let his hand rest on Ezra's shoulder for a few seconds, not wanting to startle him, and then shifted it to the back of his head, lightly stroking the damp chestnut curls.
"Ezra?" Buck's breath caught painfully in his chest when the gambler raised his head, giving him his first glimpse at the heart-rending sorrow that was tearing at Ezra's soul. "Ah damn it...." Buck saw Ezra's shoulders begin to shake as his eyes filled with fresh tears and slid his hand down to clasp the slender neck, giving it a gentle tug. "Come 'ere, pard."
Ezra's face began to crumple when he looked at Buck and saw the love and compassion those deep blue eyes held. He hesitated for only a moment, and then fell gratefully into his brother's arms. Harsh gasping sobs tore through him as he allowed Buck to gather him in close and cradle him against his chest.
Buck rested his cheek against the smaller man's forehead and began slowly rocking him. "That's it, Ezra... just let it all out now."
Clinging to Buck, Ezra wept brokenly, nearly choking on the flood of tears that he just couldn't hold back... tears for his father, for Amanda, and for his lost childhood.
And while Buck helped Ezra release all the pain and guilt he'd been carrying for so long, their brothers stood watch over them, all three men unashamedly brushing away their own tears as they waited.
By the time Josiah and JD returned, Ezra had finally succumbed to the exhaustion and pain, and they gently placed him on the thick down mattress that filled the wagon bed. Nathan quickly finished bandaging the gambler's wounds and covered him with a light blanket, and then he and Josiah eased Buck up beside him and forced the resisting gunfighter to lay down.
Buck tried to argue that he was just fine and didn't need to be mollycoddled, but his protests were interrupted by a huge, jaw-cracking yawn. Grinning sheepishly at Nathan, he finally conceded that maybe he did need to rest his eyes for a bit, and after gaining the healer's assurances that he would wake him if Ezra needed him, Buck grudgingly gave in to his body's demand for sleep.
Before they left, they made good on Vin's promise to Ezra and covered his father and Amanda's remains, carefully securing the tarp so that nothing could disturb them before they could be laid to rest again. They then threw another piece of oilcloth over the bodies of Delacourte and Haskins, even though they all heartily agreed that neither man deserved such a courtesy.
After some discussion, it was decided that once they got back to town, Josiah and JD would stay at the boardinghouse to help Nathan with Buck and Ezra, while Chris and Vin went and dealt with the sheriff.
Vin asked Chris if he still thought they should try and round up Delacourte's men, but the blond gunfighter just shook his head and told him to forget it. It was getting late, and they were all too exhausted to put on an effective search. If they still needed them to corroborate their story after talking to the sheriff, then they'd hunt them down tomorrow.
Relieved that it was finally almost over, they eagerly turned their backs on the hell where they'd nearly lost two of their own, and slowly started out on the first step to getting their family back home where it belonged.
Abigail and Katherine were on the porch, anxiously watching the road, when Chris and the others finally arrived back at the boardinghouse.
Abigail took one look at the two men in the back of the wagon, and with tears in her eyes and a curse on her lips, hurried inside to get things ready for their care.
Katherine tried to go to Ezra, but was held back by Chris and Vin. She struggled against them at first, but once she got a clear look at her brother and his horrendous injuries, she just stood between them, shaking, with tears streaming down her cheeks and her arms clamped tightly around her waist.
The three of them watched silently as Josiah gently lifted the still unconscious gambler out of the wagon and carried him inside. Buck had slept most of the way back, but had awakened when they'd pulled into the yard. After a brief struggle, he finally allowed Nathan and JD to help him, and the three of them slowly made their way into the house.
Katherine moved to follow them, but Chris put a hand on her arm to stop her. "Best to let Nathan get him settled first." She started to argue, but quickly realized he was right and knew that she'd just be in the way.
She stared at the house and shuddered. "He will be all right, won't he? He looked so frail...." Her voice trailed off as the image of Ezra's limp body lying cradled in the larger man's arms flashed across her mind.
Vin shook his head and smiled softly as he thought about the gambler. "Don't you worry 'bout ol' Ezra none, he's a whole lot tougher than he looks."
Katherine stared worriedly at the house. "It was Delacourte, wasn't it?" When they answered in the affirmative, she turned a cold, hate-filled gaze on them and asked, "Is he dead?"
Chris nodded, and then after a quick glance at Vin, told her about her father and the young girl.
She started to get upset, demanding to know how they could have just left his remains there, but managed to get her emotions back under control when they explained about wanting to take the sheriff out there before anything was disturbed.
Katherine looked once more at the house and then turned suddenly and strode over to her horse which was still saddled and tied to the hitching rail that ran alongside the porch. "I'm goin' with you. Sheriff Patterson knows me, and he might be more willing to listen if I'm there, too." Settling herself in the saddle, she turned her horse toward the street. "We'll collect the undertaker on our way through town. I want to be able to reassure Ezra when I see him that our father and that poor girl are finally at rest."
Chris and Vin exchanged a look of surprise at the sudden strength she was showing, but didn't say anything as they wearily mounted their horses. They just wanted to see the whole mess over with so they could concentrate on getting Ezra and Buck well enough to go home, and anything she was willing to do to help was fine with them.
So with a last worried glance back at the boardinghouse, they reluctantly turned their thoughts away from what was happening with their injured brothers, and followed her out of the yard.