Painful Memories

By Jean Williams


Part Eighteen

Josiah bent low over Ezra so that he wouldn't have to strain to look up at him and continued talking quietly, trying to break through the fear and pain that had the Southerner in its unyielding grip.

"Take it easy, son. Buck's in the other bed and he's safe, but you've got to try and calm down. He's getting upset because he's worried about you... he's afraid you're leaving us again." Josiah heard Ezra's breath catch and saw a different kind of pain flare to life in the gambler's glazed eyes. Another flash of memory....

<<a light... a gentle voice... "Buck needs you, Ezra...">>

Ezra shuddered as the fear and guilt he'd felt Buck suffering from before flooded his mind again. He was hurting his friend because he was quitting... because he was weak. "... can't leave... he needs... me...."

Josiah felt a ray of hope when he heard the softly mumbled words. "That's right, Ezra. Buck needs you to stay."

Vin leaned forward to whisper in the gambler's ear. "We all do, pard." He felt a tremor run through the slender form and began gently stroking Ezra's shoulder.

"We're not gonna let you go, Ezra. We can't... you're one of us." Chris loosened Ezra's grip on the sheets and slipped his hand into the younger man's, giving him something solid to anchor himself to.

"I know you're not gonna leave us, Ezra, 'cause we're a family. An' family don't give up on each other... ever." JD felt his eyes fill with tears at the stunned look that came over the gambler's face. It hurt him to know that Ezra still had a hard time grasping the fact that they believed in him, that he didn't have to keep proving himself.

Ezra was amazed by the unwavering confidence he heard in the youngster's voice. JD trusted him to keep fighting... trusted him to not let the family down.

With a soft whimper, Ezra turned his face into the mattress and cried. He didn't want to disappoint them... wanted more than anything to live up to their faith in him, but between the excruciating pain and the fever that seemed to burn hotter with every breath he took, Ezra just didn't think he had anything left to fight with.


The door swung open, and Nathan eased into the room with the heavily laden tray balanced precariously in one hand. He cast a worried glance at his two patients as he deposited his burden on the dresser, and then frowned when he saw the distress both men were still in.

He knew the preacher had been right when he'd announced that Ezra was giving up again, and Nathan had no doubt that they probably would have lost him if Josiah hadn't stepped in and taken over when he did. But, while using Ezra's fear for Buck had succeeded in getting the gambler back, it was now working against him. The constant worry over Buck's safety was draining him... stealing the strength he needed to keep fighting. And it was obvious by the look of anguish on Buck's face, that the stress of going along with Josiah's plan was simply more than the gunman was able to handle. Nathan had heard the others talking to Ezra as he'd come down the hallway. If their heartfelt words of encouragement and Buck's pleas for help hadn't given him the will to go on, then nothing probably would.

Praying he was doing the right thing, Nathan made his decision... it was time to re-establish the connection that Buck and Ezra had fought to maintain back at Delacourte's. It had worked to keep them both alive then, hopefully it would continue to do so now. If not, then at least it might allow Ezra to leave them peacefully, not screaming with pain.

Scooping the two mugs up off the tray, Nathan moved determinedly toward the beds.

"I want ya t' drink all of this, Buck," Nathan ordered quietly as he handed one of the mugs to JD. He saw the other man's mouth open to protest and quickly silenced him with a promise. "Jus' do as I say, an' I'll let ya talk t' Ezra."

Buck stared up into the dark, compassionate eyes of the healer and, after a moment, gave him a curt nod and allowed JD to help him as he downed the bitter liquid.

As soon as he saw that Buck was cooperating, Nathan moved to take Josiah's place at Ezra's side. Crouching down beside the bed, he reached out and rested his hand lightly on the gambler's head. "Ezra?"

The muffled sobs hitched to a stop as Ezra weakly turned his face toward Nathan. "Na-than?"

Nathan watched the glassy green eyes blink slowly and knew that the fever and pain were making it hard for the Southerner to focus on him. "Right here, Ezra."

"N-Na-than... where's..." Ezra emitted another strangled sob as he struggled with the words that usually came so easily for him. "... need... Buck...."

"Easy now... I'll have ya back with Buck jus' in a minute." Nathan grabbed a fresh cloth, soaked it briefly in the basin of cool water, and then gently swabbed Ezra's face and neck before retrieving the other mug of tea from the night table. "I jus' want ya t' drink this for me first."

"... n-no... please...."

With Chris and Vin's help, Nathan raised Ezra up off the mattress far enough to allow him to drink the herbal mixture without choking. "Come on now, Ezra, this'll help with the pain, an' as soon as ya finish it, I promise you'll get t' see Buck."

Ezra tried to twist his head away, but Nathan's large hand wrapped around his forehead was all it took to hold the weakened gambler still. When the healer pressed the rim of the mug against his lips and tipped it slightly, Ezra had no choice but to swallow.

"Take it slow... that's it." Nathan watched Ezra carefully as he forced a small amount of the tea into him. "You're doin' jus' fine, Ezra, jus' try an' take a little bit more, an' I'll let ya rest."

Ezra managed two more small sips, but Nathan could see he'd had enough. After passing the still half-full mug to Josiah, he and the others slowly settled the gambler back down on his stomach.

Nathan started to move away, but stopped and bent back over Ezra when he grabbed weakly at his hand.

"... Buck... please...."

"I'm gettin' 'im right now, Ezra... you jus' lay quiet an' give that tea a chance t' work, okay?" Nathan smiled and patted the smaller man's hand when he saw him nod and then stood and started taking things off the night table and carrying them over to the dresser while explaining what he was doing to the others.

Josiah nodded approvingly and moved quickly to help the healer, and once they had the space between the two beds cleared out, the others slowly and carefully pushed them together.

Buck immediately reached over and grabbed onto Ezra's hand. "Hey, pard."

Ezra gasped at the welcome sound of Buck's voice and clutched his hand with trembling fingers. Blinking rapidly, he tried to bring the other man into focus. Ezra needed desperately to see Buck... to see that he was really here in front of him and safe. It took several moments, but he was finally rewarded with a clearer view of Buck's familiar face. It was pale and bruised, and the deep blue eyes were filled with worry, but the gentle smile that the gunman flashed at him was enough to lift the heavy mantle of fear that had cloaked Ezra's heart since their whole ordeal had begun. "You... all right?"

Buck squeezed Ezra's hand and stared intently at the younger man. "I will be... long as I know you're gonna keep on hangin' in here with me."

Ezra's eyes slid shut as he wearily shook his head. "... 's jus' too... hard... t' fight..." The gambler's fingers tightened around Buck's as he moaned softly. "... hurts...."

Tears streamed unnoticed down Buck's cheeks as he rubbed his thumb lightly across the back of the other man's hand. "I know it does, Ezra... I know."

Nathan sat on the bed behind Ezra and leaned over him to slowly run the damp cloth over his fevered skin. He glanced at the others and then spoke hesitantly to the Southerner. "Ezra? Miz Abigail has some laudanum that —"

"No! N-Nathan... you p-promised... me...." Ezra's eyes flew open as he frantically struggled to move away from Nathan's touch. "... you... promised."

The others all shot startled looks at Nathan. Shortly after they'd gotten together, as a precaution in case Ezra was ever injured when he was away from his care, the healer had warned them that under no circumstances was the gambler to be given laudanum. None of them knew why because no details were offered and, out of respect for Ezra's privacy, none were asked for. But they were all aware of Nathan's promise to the younger man regarding the drug, which was why his offering it to him now came as such a surprise.

"Ezra! It's all right... calm down! I ain't gonna give it t' ya if ya don't want it, but a little bit wouldn't hurt ya, an' it'd help ya get the rest ya need." Nathan waved the others off when he saw them reach for Ezra. He knew that it would just panic the smaller man further if they tried to restrain him in anyway.

Ezra shook his head and mumbled fretfully. "... promised me... you promised... m-me...."

"Shh... it's okay, Ezra. I ain't gonna make ya take it. I jus' wanted ya t' know it was there if ya needed it." He gently smoothed the gambler's hair back and leaned in closer to whisper softly in his ear. "I'd never break my promise t' ya, Ezra... never."

Ezra heaved a shaky sigh of relief as he heard the truth in Nathan's deep voice. "Trust you... Nathan."

"Thank you, Ezra. That means a lot t' me." Nathan motioned for Josiah to pass him the mug from the dresser and bent back over the younger man. "Ezra? Could ya jus' try an' drink the rest of this for me?"

Ezra gave a small nod, and this time, after a few pauses to rest, was able to empty the cup.

As soon as Ezra had finished and caught his breath, Buck nudged the gambler's hand to get his attention. "Hey, pard... don't know 'bout you, but I think Nathan's 'snake oil' is startin' t' work on me... can't hardly keep my eyes open. How 'bout you an' I get us a little shut-eye now?"

Ezra fought against the fog that was slowly wrapping itself around his mind and tried to focus on Buck's words. It took a few minutes, but the question finally sank in and the smaller man nodded.

Buck caught and held Ezra's bleary gaze and quietly asked, "You'll be here when I wake up... right?"

Tears welled up in Ezra's pale green eyes, and his voice shook with exhaustion and pain as he forced out a reply. "I'll... try...."

Buck shook his head. "That ain't good enough."

"... Buck... please..." Ezra tried to turn away from his friend's trusting face, but Buck stopped him by gently cupping his hand over the gambler's cheek.

"Promise me." Hating himself for doing it, but realizing he had no choice, Buck allowed the pain he'd been hiding to show in his eyes as he gazed back at the younger man. "I can't do this without ya, Ezra."

Ezra choked back a sob when he saw Buck's own suffering revealed to him and then gave him what he wanted in a breathy, trembling whisper. "... promise..."

"That's all I needed to hear." Buck slid his hand down to the gambler's slender neck and began rubbing his thumb in small, gentle circles, smiling softly as he watched Ezra's eyelids flutter several times and then slowly close. "That's it, pard, just let it all go and sleep now."

Secure in the knowledge that their gambler always honored his promises, Buck finally let himself relax and followed Ezra into the soothing darkness.


Nathan stood in front of the open window staring disconsolately out into the moonlit yard. The only sounds in the room were Buck's light snores and Ezra's quiet moans and rasping breaths. Abigail had managed to coax the others down to the kitchen for a late supper, but Nathan hadn't felt comfortable leaving his patients yet. It had been a rough day for the two men, and even though they were both quiet now, he knew how rapidly their conditions could deteriorate again, and he wanted to be there just in case they needed him.

But this was the part of his 'job' as the group's healer that he hated most, the waiting. He'd hopefully done everything he could... stitched, salved, bandaged... and now he had to sit back and watch his friends struggle to do their part. Sure, he could still lend his support with soothing touches and reassuring words, and he still had dressings to change and medications to administer, but that was just... maintenance, and the inactivity that went along with it allowed the doubts to creep in. <<What if I missed something? What if I've done more harm than good? Have I done enough to give them a fighting chance?>>

Nathan sighed, turned back to his patients, and went through the routine once again. Large, dark hand pressed gently against forehead and throat monitoring temperature and pulse... slight lift of the sheets to check for re-opened wounds or loosened bandages... soothing touches to a restlessly shifting leg or furrowed brow... and then a return to the waiting and the doubts.

Chris quietly entered the room carrying a plate of food and a cup of coffee, took one look at the lines of fatigue bracketing Nathan's eyes and mouth, and nodding at the armchair in the corner, firmly ordered, "Sit."

Realizing he was too tired to argue, Nathan eased his aching body down into the chair and smiled his thanks as Chris slid the night table over and set the plate and mug down in front of him.

While Nathan picked listlessly at his food, Chris moved over to the beds and stared silently down at the two men. "How they doin'?"

Nathan let his fork drop back onto the plate and wearily leaned back in the chair. "Not as well as I'd hoped they'd be doin' by now." He watched Chris as he wrung out the cloth soaking in the basin, and wasn't surprised when he saw the other man's hand shake as he gently wiped the sweat from first Ezra's and then Buck's face.

Josiah had been in earlier to give him a rundown on what had been happening while he'd been shut away with their wounded brothers. The day had not been an easy one for their leader either.

Apparently there had been a large contingent of the townsfolk who were overjoyed to find the heavy weight of Matthew Delacourte's tyranny removed, and they'd made their feelings known quite openly when they'd converged on the Sheriff's office demanding to know what was being done to find the rest of the scum that had worked for Delacourte.

The beleaguered Sheriff had quickly realized that the security of his job depended on how he handled the incident and had immediately recruited some of the braver souls present to help him search for the men involved in Buck and Ezra's kidnapping and beating. Due to a strong 'suggestion' by his new deputies, he'd stopped at the boardinghouse to see if Chris and the others wanted to join them.

Knowing there was nothing they could do for Buck and Ezra, but at the same time needing to do something, Chris, Vin, Josiah, and JD had joined the hunt. They'd managed to bring in several of the men, including Thomas Kirby, who had been quickly pointed out by his 'comrades' as Delacourte's second-in-command, and the one who'd wielded the whip against Buck. It had taken Josiah and Vin both to pull Chris and JD off of the man... after a suitable delay to allow their two friends to work out a little of their frustration, of course. Nathan couldn't help but chuckle at the satisfied grin that had spread across the preacher's face with that last statement.

Josiah had also told him about some of the repentant citizens who had sheepishly come forward to ask if their was anything they could do to help. Their belated and highly unappreciated generosity had been firmly refused, and that had included the rather pompous town doctor's offer of his services. According to Josiah, Chris had just given the elderly gentleman the infamous 'Larabee glare' and informed him that his men were in the hands of one of the best, and that if he went anywhere near them, he had no doubt that Doctor Jackson would not hesitate to shoot him.

Nathan had been grateful for, but not surprised by, Chris's show of support. For some reason that baffled him completely, these six men trusted him implicitly to cure or repair any sickness or injury they were unfortunate enough to incur. Him... Nathan Jackson... an ex-slave with no formal training or schooling. He only wished he had as much faith in his abilities as they did.

Seeing Chris staring worriedly at him, Nathan forced himself to pick up his fork and resume eating as he filled him in on what had happened with Buck and Ezra. "Well, Buck took a turn this mornin' that 'bout scared the hell outta me. Fever spikin', talkin' outta his head... kept askin' for Ezra when he's layin' right there beside 'im. I knew it was all 'cause he weren't lettin' himself get no rest, so once I'd gotten the fever beat back some, I threatened t' move 'im into another room if he didn't let me give 'im a little bit of that laudanum Miz Abigail had. He still fought it, but I tol' 'im he needed t' take care of hisself first if he was gonna be takin' care of Ezra. He was so tired, it only took a small sip of the stuff to put 'im out, an' he's been sleepin' ever since."

Ezra groaned and mumbled something unintelligible as he made a weak attempt to push himself over onto his back. Chris motioned for Nathan to stay where he was as he quickly moved to the gambler's side of the bed and, mindful of his numerous wounds, gently pressed him back down against the mattress. The only part of the softly slurred, fevered ramblings that Chris could decipher was Buck's name, but it was more than enough to let the blond gunman know what was causing Ezra's anxiety.

"Easy, Ezra, he's right here." Chris loosened the younger man's grip on the sheets and stretched his arm over until his hand rested lightly on Buck's. Ezra immediately quieted as his fingers wrapped themselves around the other man's limp hand.

Nathan had moved over beside Buck and stood looking down at the two men, shaking his head. "Been like that all afternoon. Outta his head with pain an' fever, an' still able t' sense that Buck was goin' through a crisis an' needed 'im."

Chris glanced up at Nathan as he ran the cool cloth across Ezra's shoulders and down his arms. "That's a good thing though, isn't it?"

Nathan shrugged, wrung out another piece of flannel, and began mimicking Chris's soothing motions on Buck.

"I gotta be honest with ya, Chris. I jus' ain't sure there's anything we can do t' keep Ezra with us. He's tryin'... Lord knows he's fightin' with everything he's got left in order to keep his promise t' Buck, but that damn fever ain't easin' up at all, an' a body can only take jus' so much."

Chris heard the emotion choking Nathan's deep voice and looked up to see him fighting back tears. Setting the cloth back in the basin, he walked around the bed and, with a firm grip on the exhausted healer's arm, gently forced him toward the door. "Okay, that's it. You're gonna follow your own advice now an' get some rest." He leveled his piercing green eyes on Nathan and gave him a no-nonsense look and a warning. "This isn't up for discussion. You're gonna get some sleep an' that's final."

The lure of a soft bed was strong, but Nathan still stubbornly tried to resist it. "But Buck'll prob'ly be wakin' up soon...."

Chris pushed harder and had Nathan out in the hall before the larger man knew what had happened. "An' one of us'll be here with him when he does."

"Ezra needs —"

"Whatever it is they need done for them, the rest of us can do. Now give me some instructions an' then get your ass to bed." Chris stood in the doorway, arms crossed, and a determined look on his handsome face that informed Nathan, in no uncertain terms, that there would be no getting around him.

Nathan's broad shoulders slumped in defeat. He knew Chris was right... he could barely keep his eyes open. But the idea of leaving his patients when they still needed him....

"Fine. I'll lay down... for an hour, no more." He attempted a glare of his own, but it fell flat when it was interrupted by a huge, gaping yawn. Reluctantly returning the grin that had appeared on Chris's face, Nathan finally gave in. "The main thing ya need t' do is keep 'em as quiet as possible. If ya can manage it, give Buck another dose of laudanum, an' if he won't take it, at least make him drink some of the tea that's in that pot on the dresser. If ya need more, Miz Abigail's got another batch of it brewin' down in the kitchen. An' if Ezra does wake up..." Nathan felt a lump rise up in his throat at the very real possibility that that might not happen... "get as much water an' tea into 'im as he can handle. Oh, an' ya need t' keep wipin' 'em down with cold water if we're ever gonna get their fevers t' break. The pitcher's gettin' low again, so ya might wanna send..."

Chris planted his fists on his hips and scowled at the healer who slowly stuttered to a halt and smiled sheepishly. "Huh... guess ya know most of that."

"Go to bed, Nathan."

Nathan hesitated for another moment and then stalked across the hall, swinging the door wide and purposely leaving it open. Looking back briefly, he pointed one long, dark finger at the older man still standing guard. "One hour... no more."

Chris shook his head and laughed as he listened to Nathan sputtering about being treated like a child as he made his way through the dimly lit room. He remained in the doorway, waiting patiently, while the healer got himself settled in the bed. After a few moments, the rustling sounds stopped and a deep, rumbling snore began.

Sighing with relief, Chris quietly closed the door and then returned to the sickroom to take his turn at standing watch over their brothers.


Just as Nathan had predicted, Buck's fever had receded and his condition had improved steadily once he'd grudgingly accepted the laudanum and gotten the rest his body had so desperately needed.

Unfortunately, Ezra wasn't faring as well. It had been four long days since they'd gotten anything other than groans of pain and incoherent mumbling out of him. Despite Nathan's best efforts, infection had developed in a couple of the deeper wounds on the gambler's back and legs, further fueling the fever he was already suffering from. It was beginning to look like they were really going to lose their brother this time, when, just past dawn on the fifth day, Ezra finally began to show signs of regaining consciousness.

JD, who was taking his turn watching over his brothers, had run down to the kitchen to fetch a fresh pitcher of water and was just starting back down the hallway when he heard a quiet moan come from Buck and Ezra's room. Stepping through the door, the young peacekeeper paused and scanned the two forms lying motionless in the beds.

Buck was in the same position as when JD had left, sprawled on his stomach with one arm curled around his pillow and the other stretched across the bed toward the Southerner. But Ezra had somehow gotten himself turned about until he was now lying half on his side and half on his back, with the covers pushed down and twisted around his legs. Sweat poured off of him, soaking his bandages and the sheet beneath him, and as JD moved toward the bed, Ezra uttered another soft moan and began shivering uncontrollably.

Quickly setting the pitcher down, JD went to work untangling the covers, and soon had them pulled back up over the gambler.

"Ezra?" JD shook the older man's shoulder gently. "You hang on, okay? I'm gonna go get Nathan for ya."

The youth waited a few moments for a response, but when none was forthcoming, hurried across the hall to wake the healer. Nathan was up and at Ezra's side before JD had even finished talking, and nearly wept with relief when he found that the Southerner's fever had broken.

"He okay, Nathan?"

Glancing back over his shoulder, he smiled at the younger man. "He will be now, JD." Nathan sent him after some warm water and fresh bandages and then turned back to his patient. He was startled to see Ezra looking at him. His pale green eyes were filled with fear and confusion as they darted nervously around the room, but, thank the good Lord, he was finally awake.

Moving slowly, Nathan knelt beside the bed and placed a calming hand on the gambler's arm. "Easy, Ezra, it's okay. You're back at the boardin'house... at Miz Abigail's."

"B-Buck...."

Nathan felt the muscles under his hand tense and pressed down firmly to keep Ezra from moving. "Keep still now... Buck's jus' fine." He felt the mattress shift slightly and glancing up, saw the man in question struggling to his feet. Nathan made a move to go help him, but stopped when Buck motioned for him to stay where he was.

Keeping his grip on Ezra, Nathan hooked his foot around the chair and pulled it closer to the bed, and then helped steady the injured gunman as he slowly lowered himself onto it.

Buck leaned forward until he was in Ezra's line of vision. "Hey there, 'bout damn time you were wakin' up."

Tears immediately filled Ezra's eyes, and he couldn't hold back a strangled sob of relief at the blessed sight of Buck's smiling face. "Oh God... Buck...."

Buck's eyes widened in mock horror as he reached up and ran a hand over his bruised face. "Damn, pard, do I look that bad?!"

Ezra just stared at him for a moment as his sluggish mind worked at processing the older man's attempt at humor, and then lightened both his friends' hearts with a ghost of a smile and a raspy chuckle. Unfortunately, the laughter triggered a bout of coughing that left him grimacing in pain and gasping for breath, and sent a panicked Buck and Nathan scrambling to help him.

Buck quickly shifted over to the bed and carefully pulled Ezra up into his arms, holding him while Nathan struggled to get some water into him to help ease his dry throat.

"Shit... I'm sorry, Ezra. I didn't mean to —"

Ezra weakly shook his head against Buck's shoulder as the spasm finally began to ease up. "Don't... 'polo-gize. Worth it... to be... l-laughin'... 'stead of cryin'... for a... change."

"Jus' hush up an' drink 'fore ya start chokin' again," Nathan gently scolded as he pressed the mug to Ezra's lips.

Ezra gazed blearily back at the healer as he slowly sipped the soothing water. He saw the worry return to Nathan's dark eyes at his silent acquiescence, and deeply regretted being the cause of it again.

JD rushed back into the room, a smile lighting his face as he saw that the Southerner was awake.

"How ya doin', Ezra?" the young peacekeeper asked as he set the bandages and water down beside Nathan.

"Better, Mr. Dunne. Quite happy... to see y-your smilin'... face... once again." Ezra's voice shook slightly, drawing another anxious look from Nathan. "I'm f-fine, Nathan... just took a... bit of a... chill."

"Ain't no wonder, pard. You're sweatin' like a damn pig." Buck just grinned when the gambler huffed indignantly.

"Gentlemen do not... 'sweat like... pigs'... Mr. Wilmington. They... perspire," Ezra primly informed the other man, and then had to make a futile grab at the damp sheet covering him as Buck reached around him and easily plucked it out of his hands, flopping it in demonstration.

"Well, it looks like ya must've perspired 'bout a bucket of water here, Ezra." Buck laughed when Ezra faked a cough and looked pleadingly up at Nathan, and then allowed the smaller man to tug the sheet back up around his neck.

"Na-than..." Ezra fretted pitifully, "Are you... goin' to let... this... overgrown child... harass... me?"

Buck rolled his eyes and snorted. "He's definitely better, Nathan, listen to 'im whinin' an' complainin'." Buck looked down, saw Ezra staring back at him with a small smile tugging at his lips, and had all he could do to keep from hugging the younger man and shouting out his joy. That bastard, Delacourte, had almost won, but thankfully the arrogant fool had made the fatal mistake of underestimating the strength of mind, body, and heart that Ezra Payton Standish possessed. And nothing triggered that strength faster than threatening his family... his real family.

Buck felt another shiver run through the slender body he held and saw Ezra's smile fade as his eyes darkened with pain. He quickly glanced up at Nathan and was relieved to see the healer already going into action.

Nathan sat down beside Ezra and carefully eased him forward to lean against his chest. "Okay, Buck, that's enough of you tormentin' my patient. Why don't ya get back in your bed so's JD an' I can get Ezra here taken care of. I think it's 'bout time he got some more rest."

"'m c-cold, Na-than..." Ezra whispered as he pressed in closer to the healer, trying to absorb some of his warmth.

Nathan wrapped his arm around the smaller man's shoulders and held him as he began loosening his bandages. "I know ya are. Jus' hang on, you'll feel better once we get ya cleaned up."

Buck insisted on helping, and it was no time before they had the gambler washed, bandaged, and tucked back in between some nice, fresh sheets. Within minutes, he was asleep.

The gunfighter stared worriedly down at Ezra. "He gonna be okay, Nathan?"

The healer nodded as he gathered up the soiled bandages and wash rags. "He's gonna be plenty weak for awhile, but long as he gets enough rest, he should be jus' fine."

Now that Ezra's fever had broken, they decided it was safe to separate the two men, and they called in the others to help restore the room to its former state. Even the noise and movement of Josiah and Vin repositioning his bed didn't disturb the exhausted gambler. Nathan managed to get him awake enough to take some broth and water around noon, but other than that, Ezra slept right through the day and well into the night.


Continued