Disclaimer: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide.
It was entirely possible to live in the Territory and be unaware that beyond the safety of one's home and township could exist a way of life as alien as any that may have existed throughout the ages. For Vin Tanner, who had been fortunate enough in his youth to make the crossing that most believed unfathomable, he had walked through the mist and crossed the line that existed between this disparate world to come something from truly unique. He supposed that he had tried so hard to breach the walls of his own kind to find coexistence with another in those days out of some need to belong. It had taken him a long time to understand that belonging began from an acceptance of what one was, not what other saw him to be.
Still old habits died hard, even in this present day when he was a man married, who had a home and friends to whom he felt a kinship that had more substance that blood. As he sat astride Peso and saw the distant world ahead beckoning him as it once did in all its unique differences, he wondered what it would have been like if he had been able to fit? Would he have been any happier? How would his life have been without Alex and Chris? Vin shook such thoughts out of his head as he saw the Apache village in the distance.
Beyond that were cornfields the Apaches used to supplement their diet of deers, gophers, wild turkeys and lizards. Vin could not imagine where they would find the water to irrigate these crops but supposed the Apache never really had a problem with that because they knew everything there was to know about this land. The tell tale tendrils of smoke from cooking hearths could be seen in the sky and though the air was heavy with silence, except for the birds that soared above them, he knew they had seen him. Somehow, they always managed to.
"You okay pard?" Chris asked as they rode side by side towards the village they could not see yet but knew was there nonetheless. In the last hour or so, Vin had become quiet, even more so than usual. It took no feat of genius to guess what was on the younger man's mind. After all, Vin had never kept his feelings about the Indians a secret. He believed that the Indians had been greatly wronged and though the opinion of the seven varied in degree, the rest of them felt more or less the same. Chris' own beliefs had little to do with Native American rights then it had to do with the rights of anyone being able to live their lives with their families in peace. Having lost a family once in his life, he did not think anyone should have to suffer that horror, no matter what race they originated.
"I'm fine." Vin answered after a moment, his eyes facing front still. "I'm just wondering what I'm gonna say to him."
"How long has it been?" Chris asked, knowing precisely whom Vin was referring to.
"Five, six years." Vin said off handedly. "He wasn't even chief back then. His brother Taza was meant to follow in Conchise' footsteps but Taza died a couple of months before we met up. He was on his way to Washington can you believe it?"
Chris knew that there had been Indian delegations to the capital where politicians made half hearted attempts to forge out some kind of peace between themselves and the Indians. Unfortunately, the reality of the situation made any agreement meaningless. Even the Indians knew this now. So many treaties and accords had been shattered arbitrarily that the Indians no longer wasted time with diplomacy when it was clear that the White Man could not be reasoned with. Despite his opinion being a rarity for this day and age, Chris could not help feeling a little ashamed at the conduct of his own kind.
"How did he die?" Chris inquired, almost afraid to ask for the answer he might receive.
"Pneumonia." Vin responded and caught the visible sigh of relief that Chris tried to hide upon receiving that news. "Naiche became chief. He wasn't too happy about it. With the Apache, being Chief is something you're prepared for all your life and everyone expected it was always going to be Taza, especially Naiche. He wasn't really happy about taking his brother's place."
Chris could hardly blame him. That was a tremendous responsibility if you were not ready for it. For Chris, leadership came easily though he never actively sought it out. Mary said that he had an air of authority and confidence about him, an instinct of knowing what to do and helping others find their way to it themselves. Chris felt uncomfortable about it despite knowing that it was ingrained into every part of him. Did it have to do with his being the General's son? Chris was not quite sure but the instinct had allowed him to keep six men together who should by all rights scattered to the breeze with the first shift of the wind.
Vin could sense the question that Chris had been trying not to ask because both men had an understanding that their past was something behind them, invisible threads that kept past mistakes still tethered to them in the present or something as equally damaging. "I stayed with the Apache for a two years." Vin stated. "When I was a lot younger. I knew Conchise but not well, he and Taza were busy being Chief but I was friends with Naiche. They let me stay cause they knew that I respected their ways, respected them as warriors but they could never get past the fact that I was white man. Nothing could change that for them. Can't say I blame them, considering."
"Did they ask you to leave?" Chris asked after a moment, sensing that was the part that Vin was not so eager to speak of.
"Yes." Vin nodded. A named surfaced involuntarily in his mind even though he had spent years trying to forget it. Lozen.
There was something in his manner that told Chris whatever the reason for Vin's expulsion from the Apaches, it was best a subject left alone. Chris supposed that if Vin felt he needed to know, the tracker would tell him. They continued across the plains until the village became more than just a shadow in the distance but something real with people moving across the village, going about their business as they always did. It was early morning and Chris could smell the aroma wafting from cooking pots as food was prepared. The Apache villagers did not seem terribly bothered at their presence only indifferent.
It was no wonder, Chris realised and saw what Vin had been aware of for some time. They were surrounded. The landscape did not allow for it easily but once one really saw instead of just plain looking, Chris could see the Apache braves that were watching them closely from positions of stealth. With too many occasions where the Army had simply ridden in and slaughtered whole villages without provocation, Chris supposed that such paranoia must have been a part of life. Fighting the urge to make a threatening move towards his gun, Chris kept his hands on the reins.
"You see them?" He asked Vin casually.
"Yep," Vin said in an equally lazy drawl. "They been watching us ever since we passed the ridge and came across the plains. Some of them have been hiding in those bushes and rocks we saw back there. "
Chris shuddered because he never even saw them and wondered how it was possible that Vin had before he remembered that Vin had an uncanny ability to track like no man could. Chris knew that Vin had lived with the Comanche as well as the Apache for a time and could not imagine how that would work unless he had been young. As a rule, the Comanche tended to kill males outright, while women and children were captured and returned to the tribe in the infamous raids the Commanche were known for. Women were usually raped and enslaved while children adopted into the tribe. Was it that way for Vin? Chris knew something of Vin's youth after the death of his mother. No doubt, as a child Vin Tanner would have spent some years in an orphanage as a ward of the state but Chris could not imagine Vin tolerating the conditions of such a place for long. Had he run away and some how found himself in the clutches of the Comanche who would have raised him as own? It was from the Comanche that Vin had learnt his extraordinary tracking skills because they were avid buffalo hunters.
By the time they approached the outskirts of the village, the entire population was aware of their presence although not entirely concerned. Their warriors were the best there were, prepared from birth and ready to be called such by the age of 15. As formidable as Vin and Chris were in their own right, if the Apaches chose to make a fight of it right this moment, they would not stand a chance. Perhaps now, more than ever as Chris saw how deftly the Apaches could sneak up behind him, did he understand the reason for the fear that had inspired Kojay to break faith with the tribes by telling Josiah about the mysterious 'Eagle'. A combination of so many different tribes, all angry at too many years of violence could be a plague across the new settlements that no one could stop.
"Vin," Chris found himself asking again. "You sure about this?"
"No." Vin said honestly, "that's why I told you not to come." His lips curled into a faint smile.
"I admire your ability to joke at a time like this. Remind me to tell you the one about the preacher, the nun and the rabbi before we get scalped." Chris returned.
Vin said nothing because his attention was focussed on the emergence of a tall man with hawkish eyes. His jet colored hair was worn loose over his shoulder and he wore a colored bandanna across his forehead, however, there was little else that distinguished him from the other warriors that were staring at him in open hostility. However, there was no doubt in Chris' mind that this was indeed Naiche, Chief of the Chiricahuan Apaches. The manner in which all others viewed him seemed to confirm this. Naiche was tall for an Indian and he stared at Vin Tanner with hawkish eyes, full of recognition that gave no indication whether or not it was a happy or unhappy reunion.
Vin dismounted Peso and Chris did the same. The gunslinger decided that it was best to follow Vin's lead since the tracker knew the terrain and the people far better than he did. Chris had no idea fighting the urge to go for his gun could be so hard when he saw the Apache warriors who had been stalking them make their emergence into the open. Their eyes focussed singularly on the new arrivals, weapons in hand, poise to attack if the provocation was given. Chris kept his hand off the butt of his peacemaker, aware that pulling a weapon on these men would be a mistake of fatal proportions.
Vin could sense Chris' anxiety and could not deny feeling a little of the same fears. Naiche and Vin had crossed paths years ago, before he had started bounty hunting. He did not stay with the Apache for too long, not more than a year actually. After what he did, it was best to make an abrupt departure even though he had been forced to go and not by any real fear for his life. As he thought about those days, he wondered secretly if she was still here in the village or did she go to her new husband in another tribe. There was a time just thinking about her made him so sick with jealousy, he hardly stand it. Finally, Vin had come to the conclusion that the best remedy for that was not to think of her at all. It was a rule he had managed to adhere to until they began riding towards the village this morning, where the possibility of seeing again became real.
"Hon Dah Naiche." Vin greeted as the Chief came to him.
"Hon Dah Tanner." Naiche straightened up. "It has been a long time. What do you want here?" He stared at Chris briefly and then back to Vin, almost as if he was also asking what justified Vin bringing a stranger to their encampment.
"Just came to talk Chief." Vin answered respectfully, holding his empty hands at Naiche as a gesture of peace. "This is my friend Chris Larabee."
"A gunfighter?" Naiche looked him over and came to that conclusion immediately.
Chris felt another urge to reach for his gun but once again held the impulse in check; aware that things were balanced delicately enough as it was without him behaving rashly. Besides, Vin seemed to know what to do and the gunslinger found that he had to trust his friend in this situation.
"He's just a friend." Vin repeated himself cautiously.
"What do you want here?" Naiche demanded more forcefully this time. "If it were not our friendship years ago, I would have told my warriors to kill you the minute we saw you."
"We ain't enemies Naiche." Vin said quickly, his eyes studying the warriors surrounding himself and Chris and knew he had to thread very carefully if either of them were to make it out here alive.
"What you did made you an enemy." Naiche pointed out.
Chris turned immediately to Vin in question, wondering what the tracker could have done to inspire such words. Chris could not imagine Vin doing anything to hurt the Indians, considering how the younger man felt about the plains Indians and the Apaches he once was apart. Vin met his gaze briefly and Chris knew in an instant that whatever crime Naiche was accusing Vin, it was all-true. Suddenly, Chris understood all too clearly why Vin had insisted on taking this trip alone.
"I loved her. She loved me. She chose me." Vin reiterated
"She was chosen for another!" Naiche barked back. "If she had married as she was supposed to, it would have been a great alliance between us and the Chihenne!"
"She loved me." Vin returned. "I loved her. There was never any choice in the matter."
An awkward silence followed as Naiche thought of something to say. "She is gone."
Vin looked up at him. "Gone?"
"She returned to the Chihenne and her brother Chief Victorio. She thought that you would come back for her." Naiche glared at him, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of cruelty and anger. "They say she is a medicine woman of great power now but she has never taken a husband."
"I thought..." Vin stammered. It had never occurred to him that she would not have gone through the marriage as planned. Lozen had been so earnest about fulfilling her obligations. His mind filled with images of their last night, of love made under the stars, a stolen night when all the others were searching for them because of their crime. She had told him to go after, even though he had refused. Her destiny was not written with his, she had said. He had another path to walk.
"Easy pard," Chris placed a hand on his shoulder, hearing enough to guess what had happened. Vin had done the unthinkable, falling in love with an Apache woman bound for a warrior. The Apache women had no choice in their mates, it was all an arrangement made between tribes and fathers. As Vin composed himself from the news he had just received, Chris turned to Naiche.
"We ain't here to cause trouble or to hurt anyone," he spoke humbly. "But we have heard rumors of a white man that has been travelling to the tribes, telling you that with statehood, comes the loss of your land. We were worried that this man, whomever he is, doesn't care so much about you as he does about what your destruction would mean for him."
Naiche glared at Chris and the gunslinger knew immediately that Naiche was familiar with the man he was describing. "You know nothing about what he tells us."
"So you do know him." Chris returned.
"He is the Eagle." Naiche retorted and there was a hush of reverence throughout the group of warriors watching them as that name was uttered, almost as if it had power over them.
"He tells us many truths and truths do not come easily for White Man. You lie like it is a part of you, like the color of your skin." Naiche declared vehemently. "The rest of your kinds speaks with lies, we cannot trust you. My grandfather Mangas died by your lies. The Eagle does not lie. He tells us that the White Man will never be happy while we live here on the plains. Until we are all in reservations of your choosing will you be happy. You will see us herded into cages so you can watch us die slowly while raping the land that has been ours for generations. He tells us that and we know it to be the truth for we have seen it."
"He tells you the truth that will make you angry," Vin retaliated. "He wants to make you all angry."
"We are angry!" Naiche shouted and there were voices who understood the English they were speaking to agree with their chief most verbally. Cheers rose up around them like rushing waters of the tidal swell, surrounding them with its outrage.
"Naiche," Vin took a deep breath, trying to reach the man somehow. "Once I did wrong because of Lozen. I loved her and I took her from whom she was supposed to marry. My crime was that I couldn't put the good of the tribe before my love for a woman. I ain't gonna excuse myself of that but I care about your people because for a time, they were like my own. I don't want to see you hurt, any of you. If this Eagle tells you to fight and you do, what has been before ain't gonna compare to what will be when the Army comes after you. What is left of the Apache will die. This Eagle wants you to fight because he knows you will be killed. You can't win against the Army. They got more guns, more artillery and supplies and they can wait you out."
"We are warriors!" Naiche roared and his words made the others roar their agreement. The sound was like an elixir to the chief and Chris could see the power of it invigorating him as he faced Vin again. "You think we are weak because we do not have your guns and your artillery? What if we had? Would you think your Army will kill us easily? We are warriors, we have been a race of warriors before your people even thought of this land. If we had weapons like yours then we will not be so easy to kill."
Suddenly Chris had a terrible premonition about why the Eagle was being supported so readily by the tribes but he could not voice it or they would never leave this place alive. "I think you're right." He said coolly. "You are better than we are as warriors, we just didn't want to see any more people hurt, white or Indian."
"Maybe you afraid that we will kill more of your white settlers, the ones stealing our land." Naiche accused.
"Maybe you're right." Vin said quietly. "Or maybe we'll all die and it will only be the Eagle who is left standing."
Naiche fell silent and stared directly at Vin. "You will leave now."
"Naiche," Vin started to say when he felt Chris' hand on his shoulder squeeze slightly.
"We'll go." Chris said coolly. "We came to warn you, we've done that." He stared at Vin directly and gave him an unspoken command to obey.
Vin did not understand Chris' haste to leave when they still knew nothing about the Eagle. "But Chris..."
"Now Vin." Chris repeated himself firmly.
Naiche shifted his attention to the black garbed stranger and realised that whoever he was to Vin, he clearly sat in a position of some authority. "Your friend is wise Tanner." Naiche replied, giving Chris a look of respect that was customary among Chiefs. "You will go now and you will not come back. I let you leave because you were once my friend and I believe you speak the truth when you says you come here out of concern for us but that concern is not necessary. We will take care of ourselves as we have always done."
Vin wanted to say more but Chris gave him a look to remain silent because there was more going on here than they had possibly realised. There as no way the Apache would give up the Eagle or any information about him to them, not if what Chris suspected was true. In fact, he was counting himself lucky that Vin had not guessed what he had because verbalizing it to Naiche would be a fatal mistake. "Come on pard," Chris said calmly. "We've done what we can here, let's go home."
Vin nodded and faced Naiche once more. "Next time."
"I do not think so." Naiche returned automatically. "I do not think ever again."
And for some reason, Vin felt a chill of fear running down his spine because he knew Naiche was right.
Chris did not know how long it was before they were far enough away from the Apache village for it to be deemed safe to discuss what had happened at the village. Vin had been silent for most of the journey to this point and Chris could tell that he was thinking about a number of things. Their abrupt departure and Chris' insistence that they leave without learning nothing about the Eagle was first and foremost, Chris suspected but also what was told the tracker about the woman he loved and had left so many years ago. Vin had never spoken about her but Chris was hardly surprised because Vin seemed to have a pattern of bad choices when it came to women. Perhaps it was because the young man could be so passionate; he did not see a dangerous relationship when it appeared.
"Want to talk about it?" Chris asked once they were within familiar terrain they knew would not be likely to be the scene of any belated Apache attacks.
Vin said nothing for a few seconds, debating whether or not he wanted to speak of Lozen to Chris but then supposed that if there was one person in the world he could discuss her with, it was the gunslinger. Vin was not even prepared to tell Alex about her. "Her name was Lozen." Vin said after a long pause. "She was young and pretty. Smart too. I guess, in a lot of ways, she's like Alex. She wasn't a medicine woman yet when I met but she was learning. They say she used to be able to see things."
Chris nodded, allowing Vin to talk because he could see how much Vin felt about her.
"She loved me, even though she knew it was plenty trouble for both of us and I couldn't help it. No one had ever cared for me like that before, I didn't stand a chance." Vin offered him a wan smile.
"There are women who do that to you." Chris had to agree, remembering what Sarah's effect on him had been the first time he saw her.
"Lozen did." Vin continued. "We tried to keep it a secret for as long as we could but as the day got closer and closer to her being married off to some brave in the village, the truth got out. To the Apache, lying is worst thing you can do."
"I kind of got that impression," Chris responded. "What happened?"
"We ran." Vin said abruptly, suddenly finding too many parallels with his behavior with Charlotte then was comfortable. "We spent one last night together and she said goodbye. She said that we were not meant to be that our destinies were not written together. "
"Maybe she was right," Chris said understandingly. "You and Alex......"
"I know," Vin interrupted because he did not have to say it. "I wouldn't trade Alex for anything but hearing that Lozen had never married. I can't help thinking if she wasn't waiting for me and I never went to her."
"You can't spend your life on wondering what you should have done. I used to think that if I hadn't stayed with Buck in Mexico, would it have changed how things turned out with Sarah and Adam. I used to think about it so much that it almost drove me to eating a bullet anyway I could get it "
"You're right," Vin conceded Chris that point because no one knew more about regret than Chris Larabee. Besides, Lozen was in his past and Alex was his future. He did not wish to torture himself about a past he could not change, especially when there were more important things to deal with at the moment. "So why did we high tail out of there so quickly?" He asked instead, changing the subject accordingly.
Chris was glad that Vin brought that subject up because it reminded him of the full magnitude of their problem. "I think this Eagle is firing them up with more than just words."
"What do you mean?" Vin stared at him.
"Didn't you hear that whole thing about guns, artillery and support?" Chris pointed out. "Now the one thing that has kept us ahead of them in all our fights is the fact that we're just better armed then they are, not better fighters or anything, just that we have more guns and ammo. What if they were given the same?"
"Christ." Vin exclaimed under his breath. The Apache alone were formidable warriors. Their culture reeked of battle and preparing for it. Boys were raised from birth to become warriors and by the age of 15 were more than capable of waging war quite effectively. They were a passionate and proud people who were not afraid to die for their cause if necessary. "You think this Eagle might be giving them guns?"
"I'd almost guarantee it." Chris said shortly. "Not just the Apache but all those splinter groups who are buying into what he says."
"God Chris," Vin gasped, the enormity of the gunslingers words sinking into him and producing a strangulating feeling of dread. The bloodbath was unimaginable. Not only for the settlers, homesteaders and towns that resided within easy real of all these tribes but the inevitable retaliation that would come from the Army when the slaughter was done.
"We've got our choices narrowed down now." Chris whispered. "I know who the Eagle is and it makes perfect sense."
"Who?" Vin stared at him.
"Julius. Hannibal Julius."
Ezra woke up at midday and found himself alone in his room.
He vaguely recalled Nathan Jackson being here throughout most of the night but his memories were vague because of the medication he had imbibed in the broth the healer had fed him. Despite himself, Ezra found himself grateful for the man's presence throughout the night, considering the kind of nightmares he had been plagued with. Ezra sat up in his bed and immediately felt his senses come alive as his body reacquainted him with the injuries he had sustained. However, mercifully the pain was nowhere as bad even though he throbbed whenever he attempted to move. He was rather surprised that no one had come calling until he took a deep breath of the cold air left over from the morning and noted the aroma of food.
Shifting his gaze to the table at the side of his bed, he saw a tray of food left behind. The steam rising form it indicated that it had not been left there for very long and he wondered who his benefactor had been. Most likely Julia or Nathan, Ezra decided after a moment of preponderance. He climbed out of his bed and looked around the room, aware that he was probably not quite fit to leave it but somehow, he could not bring himself to stay indoors either. There were too many ghosts in this room with him and after the horrors of the past night, he needed to be elsewhere, even if it was for an hour. However first things first, he would not allow this repast to go to waste and he was hungry. Granted, he had not had much of an appetite the night before but now he could feel the rumblings of hunger in his stomach.
Ezra removed himself from underneath the covers and stepped gingerly onto the cool floorboards. His windows were drawn and the room was virtually in darkness, which explained why the air was cool. The only reason he knew that it was midday at all was because of the clock that sat on the dressing table across the room. As he stood upright, he felt a stab of pain run through his lower back but the pain was nowhere as intense as it was the day before and it faded away to tolerable levels a moment later. Still, if he planned to make a trip outdoors, it had better not be for very long because he doubted he was physically up to an extended sojourn. He was much too tender for that.
He was in the process of getting dressed when suddenly, the door swung open.
"Ezra!" Julia exclaimed as she saw what he was preparing to do. "What are you doing out of bed?"
"Getting dressed," Ezra let out a silent groan because he was not up to arguing with her at this point.
"Getting dressed?" She looked at him in dismay. "Ezra you have been hurt, you need a day of bed rest." She came towards him and tried to take his arm when suddenly Ezra pulled away sharply.
"What's going on Ezra?" Julia stared at him.
"Nothing," he said evasively and continued to get dressed. His back facing her because he did not want her to see his eyes because she would tell immediately that far more was wrong than what he had simply told her. "I realize that I am injured but I am not completely an invalid. I can do some things for myself."
"I know that," Julia recanted, feeling a little guilty because she had been behaving rather imperiously towards him, even though it was for the best of intentions. "But you're not well and you shouldn't be moving around."
"I am perfectly aware of how well I am," Ezra returned without any kindness in his voice. He still could not look at her as he buttoned up his pants and reached gingerly for his shirt. "I have been trapped in this room far longer than I feel comfortable and I need to be outside for awhile. I take it that is acceptable to you?"
"Ezra don't talk to me like a child." Julia returned. "I was just concerned."
"Then do not treat me as one." He retorted and knew that he was being harsh but could not help it. He was tired of being handled. A man had a right to go outside without having to answer to anyone!
"Alright," she smiled, forcing the hurt out her voice. She told herself that his surliness had to do with his ordeal and that if she had been in his place, she would be just as annoyed and disgruntled. A small voice balked at the idea however, no matter how Julia tried to sell herself on it. "If you want to go out, why don't we got to Tavern for lunch? I'm sure Inez will be cooking by now."
"That sounds like a fine idea." Ezra remarked. "Unfortunately, you have no business being in the Tavern so I shall go myself." He found his dark vest and slipped it over his shirt.
"Don't you want me to come with you?" Julia asked, feeling her heart crush inside her chest. Why was he so distant, not to mention mean? Could he not see that she was only trying to help and that he was hurting her more than was justified by his cold manner.
"Julia," Ezra turned around and faced her, poker face completely in place now so nothing would filter to her if he did not wish it. "I simply want a meal. Is it possible for you to allow me that much without us engaging in a length debate?"
"Ezra," she took a step towards him. "Why are you treating me this way? I'm only trying to help." She closed the distance between them, certain that if she could only hold him, she could dispel the anger she felt emanating from him. However, as she tried to reach for him, Ezra quickly stepped out of the way and instead made himself to the table where his hat and coat were presently waiting for him to collect them. Julia stared at the space where he had not understood what was happening to him.
"I am not treating you anyway Julia," Ezra said sharply, struggling hard to maintain this icy demeanor he was putting up for her benefit even though she did not understand that at this moment. "I just want some space. Do you think it is possible that we could dispense with the hysterics until after I get a dose of fresh air and a meal? I promise you I will come back here as soon as possible and you can returning to your fawning. Is that acceptable to you Miss Pemberton?"
Julia's answer was barely a whisper. "Yes, it's acceptable."
"Good," Ezra retorted, walking slowly to the door when suddenly there was a knock. Ezra let out a groan of frustration, ignoring Julia who was standing only a few feet away from him appearing as if she was managing the barest hint of control on her emotions. "Come in!" Ezra almost barked.
"What are you doing up?" Nathan asked the minute the door swung open.
Ezra did not have a chance to answer because Julia was soon hurrying past them both without a word. The lady looked clearly distraught and Nathan wanted to call out to her but guessed at the last moment that there was probably a reason for her behavior. Ezra was no longer looking at him. The gambler had made his way to the dressing table and was putting on his jacket. He seemed to be indulging the chore with particular attention to detail, a habit recognized as one he used whenever he did not wish to speak about any subject that bothered him.
"What happened?" Nathan walked over to Ezra who was staring at his reflection in the broken mirror after his outburst the night before.
"I merely informed her I did not require fussing around as if I were a cripple." Ezra said simply, feeling the guilt even as he repeated the words. He did not need to meet Nathan's gaze or to see the pain stricken look on Julia's face to know that he had behaved badly but at this moment, he did not really care. He wanted to be left alone without people trying to touch him and make him do things he did not wish to.
"She wasn't fussing about you like a cripple," Nathan responded, aware that Ezra was not entirely in his right mind at the moment. The gambler was feeling the anger of what had been done to him and in the absence of those who had made him suffer his ordeal, he would take out that rage on anyone who was convenient. He had no real malice inside him, Nathan reminded himself, just anger, horror and a number of emotions in turmoil that Nathan could not begin to understand. "She was just trying to help. She loves Ezra and she was worried about you over exerting yourself. Can't say I blame her, you shouldn't be on your feet."
"I will not allow myself to become a prisoner of my room because of what happened." Ezra shot back. "While I am hardly in the condition to do cartwheels, I can assure you I will make it to my tavern for a meal."
Nathan saw that there was no stopping him but his response was still not explanation enough for what had made Julia run out of the room barely able to keep her tears form coming. "And what else did you say to her?" He asked.
"That is none of your business." Ezra said quietly, turning towards the door.
"You're gonna do this thing ain't ya?" Nathan called out after Ezra took a few steps.
"What thing?" The gambler asked, still walking slowly to the open door.
"You're going to keep pushing her until she goes away." Nathan retorted, not about to be diplomatic when he knew full well what Ezra was doing. "You rather lose her then have her find out the truth, never giving her chance to prove that she might be better than what you give her credit for."
Ezra did not answer.
Alexandra Styles had not come to a decision.
Even though she had spent almost every waking moment since learning about Casey's condition, pondering what she ought to do, the answer remained elusive as ever. Two days after the fact and Alex still felt as if she were trapped in a limbo from which she could not emerge until she made a choice. It was a terrible feeling indeed. As it was, Mary had only been able to offer her support and advice but unfortunately, Mary could no more make this decision for her than Alex could guess what Casey would do if she presented her solution to the young woman. In any case, Alex soon came to the conclusion that in one respect at least, Mary was right; she needed to see how Casey felt about this. The young girl had been scarce since her visit to Alex's clinic and though Alex wished she did not have to confront Casey about this issue at the Well's place, she knew she had no choice if Casey was determined to stay away.
Vin had gone to the Apache village and though she worried for him, her concerns were split at the moment as she took Phoebe towards the Wells' homestead. In the distance, she could see the house rebuilt after some months ago when a band of Mexican outlaws had attempted to massacre settlers in and around Four Corners, had burned it to the ground. A combined effort led by Vin and the rest of the seven had seen the home quickly rebuilt despite Nettie's emphatic declarations that she would pay everyone of them back for all the time and materials contributed. It was technically a better house than the one it had replaced but as all things in place of the old; it did not have the sentimental value of its predecessor. Alex was almost to the house when she saw Nettie's wagon on the same track she was travelling.
"Alex," the older woman smiled. "What a lovely surprise."
"Hello Nettie." Alex greeted clutching the woman's hand tightly in her own in a greeting of warmth that openly displayed their affection for each other. Nettie was part of her family, just as Casey was and Alex was not afraid to show it. "You're going to town?"
"Yes," Nettie nodded as she released her hold of Alex's hand and took the reins once more, tugging lightly to keep the horse pulling her wagon from ambling on without her leave "Got to fill up on supplies."
"I know how that feels." Alex said with a smile. "Is Casey home?"
"She is," Nettie sighed and the pain Alex could see in the older woman's eyes was one Alex understood too well. "She's having a bad turn today." She confessed. "Didn't sleep much last nigh because of the nightmares. I heard her cry out a couple of times but she won't admit it. Probably doesn't want to worry me I guess."
"Nettie," Alex clutched her shoulder, trying to be of some comfort. Nettie reacted by holding her hand again, as if drawings strength from the doctor. "It will take time but she'll get better." Alex said earnestly but felt like a liar because she knew what the old woman did not. "We knew it was going to be hard."
"Lord I want to hurt that man," Nettie swore, her lips turning in a thin line of hatred after the words passed her lips. "I want to hurt him so bad. She's just a baby."
"I know," Alex blinked and felt herself tugged in two once again. "I'll go talk to her. Is she at the house?"
"No," Nettie shook her head. "She's at the creek."
After talking with Nettie a little more, Alex continued on her journey to see Casey. As suspected, Casey had hidden her condition very well from Nettie. Alex supposed she could expect nothing less since Casey was motivated out of fear at what Nettie would do if the older woman were to find out. It was probably a little less extreme than how JD would react, the doctor supposed. Both Nettie and JD understood that Casey was enduring something terrible and attributed her desire for isolation to that. Alex saw no reason to alter that perception. The less was known about the young woman's condition the better. As it was, Alex was not entirely proud of herself for breaking the doctor patience confidence by telling Mary about Casey's pregnancy. Unfortunately, at the time Alex had believed she needed another perspective to help formulate her decision. For all the good it did because her discussion with Mary had not helped in the least, only added new facets to an already complicated issue.
Alex arrived at the house and tethered Phoebe to the hitching post near the water through. The animal immediately satiated her thirst as Alex ran her palm against her rich brown flank. The creek was not far from here and Alex decided she could make the journey on foot. It was a nice day anyway so she did not mind the walk. Perhaps the trip to the creek would give her some insight she did not have at this moment. Certainly, she could use all the insight she could get. Alex took the familiar path to the small waterway, recalling the number of times she and Vin had made the journey in the moonlight, hand in hand and basking in their love for one another. She thought of him where he was and tried not to worry about how he fared with the Apaches. He had promised her that he and the Chief were old friends and Alex had believed him because her mind was too filled with thoughts about her present conundrum. However, there had been something in his eyes that made her believe now that hew as not telli ng her everything and that concerned her somewhat.
She could hear the familiar sounds of water in a slow languid current and the chirping of birds overhead as she neared the creek. Looking up, Alex felt the sunshine on her face and wished Vin were here with her. Not simply because the day was too beautiful to waste but she could use some of his strength about how. However, such thoughts were soon forgotten when she heard tears being wept by someone that was no stranger to her. Alex immediately felt her heart sinking when she recognized those sobs as that of Casey's and immediately hastened her pace to find the poor girl in order to offer her some comfort. She had just managed to break the line of tall grass and emerged to the rocks where Casey was sitting when she noticed something gleaming under the sunlight that was too hard to be anything but man made.
Alex stood in horror as she saw Casey holding out her wrist, the blade she held over the thin line of vein was poised over the skin, while the hand holding it was shaking. Casey was weeping as she struggled to complete the grisly task she had come out here to perform when she raised her eyes at Alex's arrival. "Go away."
"What are you doing?" Alex asked aghast.
"I'm not going to have it!" Casey cried out. She bit down hard and resolved herself to lower the blade, even though she was terribly afraid of the pain and the sight of so much blood. "I won't!"
"Casey please!" Alex took a step forward and froze when Casey lowered the razor closer to her wrist. "Please think about this!"
"There's nothing to think of!" Casey barked, tear running down her cheeks as she spoke through her sobs. "I won't have JD looking at me like I betrayed him and I won't have Aunt Nettie be shamed by everyone because of me! This is the only way!"
"No!" Alex implored. "This is not the only way. Please, put the razor down and I promise you will think of something."
"No!" Casey shook her head, refusing to believe her because belief that bad things wouldn't happen to good people was stupid. She had never thought anything like this could happen to her and yet it did! It was bad enough that Blackwood had touched her and made her his whore but now he had left himself inside her and she could not bear that! If it took for her to die to stop feeling this way then that was how it was going to be. "You can't think of a way out of this Alex," Casey stared at her, wishing the doctor would understand. Casey had no wish to die. She wanted to marry JD and have Nettie see their children. However, she could not stand it if he found out she was going to have Blackwood's baby and Casey could see no way to keep that from happening. "There's no way!"
"Yes there is a way!" Alex exclaimed despair filling into her soul because she could think of nothing else to make Casey put down that knife and until she saw what the young girl was willing to do to escape her fate, did not realize how limited her options truly were.
"I ain't going out of town to have this baby!" Casey retorted. "I don't want to spend the next nine months hiding and lying to everyone about how this baby came to be! JD won't believe me if I said I was just going away!"
"You won't!" Alex pleaded as Casey turned back to the razor, its blade gleaming against the sunlight with an obscene beauty. "I promise you, you won't but you have to put it down!"
"I don't believe in promises!" Casey shouted. "I don't believe in anything anymore!"
"You have every right to feel that way," Alex said calmly, hoping reason would at least give her the time to reach Casey. "I can't imagine what you are feeling but killing yourself is no answer." Alex paused a moment, wondering if she was doing the right thing by making this offer to Casey but if she did not, the girl would die now. And if she did manage to stop Casey from killing herself today, what would tomorrow bring? She did not have to words to make Casey's terror disappear permanently.
"Casey I can help you." The words finally came. "And it won't involve you having the baby."
Casey looked at her sharply, her brow furrowing because she did not understand. "What do you mean?"
Alex took a deep breath, wondering how she had come to this position. She had never intended to be forced into making this decision in this manner but the last few minutes had been strangely illuminating about what her choices were and how limiting they could be. The stark reality of it was that even though she found it an impossible decision, for Casey it was a thousand times worse. Casey stared at her in expectation, waiting for her to say the words that would make all that anguish disappear and God help her, Alex did not think she could turn back now.
"I can perform an operation." She found herself saying.
"An operation?" Casey asked, still not understanding.
"I can perform an operation and make you not pregnant anymore." Alex tried to put it as delicately as possible.
"You mean, you can make it go away?" Casey replied, her lips quivering in a mixture of hope and disbelief.
"Yes," Alex nodded grimly. "I can make it go away. It's a simple enough operation. It won't take more than an hour and you'll still able to have children."
Casey turned away. For a few seconds, she did not speak and Alex though that the idea was too much for her mind to cope with. Alex could not blame her of course. As a doctor, she could not even believe she had suggested it to Casey. This alone was enough to see her license to practice medicine stripped, not to mention what the law would do to her if she actual performed the procedure. Yet as she saw Casey in her present state, Alex knew she could not let the girl endure an ordeal it was within her power to stop.
"You mean kill it don't you?" Casey broke the silence finally.
"At the moment, it's not actually a baby. It's a collection of cells that will become a baby." Alex explained as best she could even though the definition of life was a matter of perception. As a doctor, it was merely a developing embryo but to someone else it was life as real as the two of them standing here. There was no in between.
However, that was not the answer that Casey needed.
"Yes," Alex nodded. "It will mean killing it."
"But it's not alive." Casey asked once more. "Does it feel?"
"No," Alex shook her head. "There isn't enough to feel, not yet."
"So it won't feel or know what's happening?" She asked again.
"No." Alex answered softly. "It won't. Casey, I've never done this before. It's not even legal and there are risks in any surgery."
"I could go to jail?" Casey stared at her.
"We could both go to jail." Alex explained. "You for consenting to it and me for performing it."
"You would do that for me?" Casey looked at her, there was almost awe in her voice.
"Yes," Alex answered without hesitation. "I would do that for you. If that's what you want and you need to think very carefully if that's what you want Casey because once its done, there's no turning back. You have to live with it."
Casey continued to stare at her, starting to understand what living with such a thing would mean. "I don't know what to do." She stammered. "You have to tell me what to do."
"No," the doctor shook her head in response. "I can't tell you what to do Casey, not for this. This is a decision you're going to have to live with and its one no one else can make for you. I won't even try. I've given you a solution because it's in my power to do so and I'm not even sure it's the right thing to do but I couldn't see you suffer."
"Thank you Alex," Casey whispered understanding in her reply just how hard it was to make the offer because of what she risked if it were known. "How much time do I have to decide?"
"A couple of weeks, no more." She replied. "I'd say the sooner the better."
Casey nodded, understanding why. "I'll think about it."
"You do that," Alex retorted. "You think on it."
It was evening when Nathan Jackson entered the Standish Tavern and saw the gambler still present inside the establishment. Even though Josiah, Buck and JD occupied a table, Ezra was not seated with them. Instead Ezra was at the head of another table, playing poker with a group of strangers. Judging by the pile of money he had in his corner of the table, the gambler was heading towards one his all night gambling binges. The rest of the seven were accustomed to Ezra playing in this fashion of course, especially when he found an opponent that merited the attention. However, as Nathan observed the players at Ezra's table, there did not appear to be anyone formidable who could match Ezra for skill. They were mostly cowpokes and ranch hands having drifted into town for a little recreation. These were hardly the types that Ezra normally wasted his time on.
He should be in bed. Nathan thought to himself as he made his way to the bar to get his drink. As he crossed the room, he noticed Inez staring across the floor at the gambler, her face etched in concern. Although they were never intimate, Inez and Ezra were close in a relationship that was almost sibling in its intensity. The two had taken each other into confidence ever since Inez had strolled into the saloon and made her bid to become Ezra's partner. Her direct honesty was no match for Ezra's practiced facade of indifference and more often than not, she could get him to talk about what was bothering better than even Julia was, Nathan sometimes believed. Unfortunately, this was one instance where she would not be able to help him.
"How long has he been here?" Nathan asked when he reached Inez. There was no need for pleasantries when she was watching the gambler closely.
"Since noon." Inez said thinly. "See that bottle?" She gestured to the half empty bottle of whiskey sitting next to Ezra.
"What about it?" Nathan asked.
"That's the second or third one today. He hasn't stopped drinking since he walked in here. He won't eat. All he cares about is that next drink. I've never seen him like this." The grave concern in her voice was clear.
"He'll kill himself if he keeps drinking that way." Nathan whispered. Ezra was still injured and though there was little Nathan could do for him other than prevent any infection, his excessive drinking could not be helping his condition either. By rights, he ought to be in bed resting but Nathan supposed he had enough demons to contend with at the moment to force the gambler to it.
"What's wrong with him?" Inez looked at the healer. "Why is he behaving like this?"
"I don't know," Nathan lied and hoped that she would not be able to see it. Inez was good at reading people. Nathan picked up his drink and walked towards the table where Ezra was presently holding court. He had no idea what to say to the gambler but knew he had to be careful with his words. Ezra's sanity was walking a fine line at the moment and anything Nathan said could tip him over the edge.
When he reached the table, all eyes shifted to him except Ezra's. Nathan was certain the gambler had been aware of his presence the moment he walked into the room but was feeling embarrassment because of Nathan's presence in his room the night before. Nathan too had been thinking about Ezra's nightmares and how horrifically the southerner had screamed as his ordeal was revisited upon him in the form of night terrors. Nathan had spent much of the night, being there for Ezra because the healer could not find it in his heart to leave the man alone when he was in such a vulnerable state.
"Hello Ezra," Nathan greeted. The others at the table did not appreciate his intrusion.
"Mr Jackson." Ezra said coolly, his eyes fixed on the hand before him. "How are you this evening?"
Even though Inez had told him how much Ezra had imbibed today, Nathan could detect no traces of alcohol in his speech. His voice seemed firm and steady, almost as if he was completely sober. "You should be in bed," Nathan said gingerly. "After that fall, you shouldn't be moving around."
"What are you his mother, boy?" One of the men sneered.
No sooner than the words had left his lips, the man found himself staring into the barrel of a derringer. With reflexes so fast, Ezra had drawn on him and suddenly the room felt silent as a tomb. "I do believe Mr Jackson does not like being referred to in that manner." Ezra's voice was icy.
"Didn't mean anything by it," the man said nervously, lips twitching fearfully as he stared at Nathan who was almost as shocked as he was.
"Then apologize." Ezra replied pulling the trigger. The others at the table pulled away from the man in the line of fire. At their table, Buck, Josiah and JD had risen to their feet, just as astonished by Ezra's reaction but nevertheless ready to jump in if the gambler needed help.
"Ezra, its fine." Nathan turned to him. "Put the gun down."
"I do not think so Mr Jackson," Ezra replied not looking. "People take too many liberties at your expense. They do things with no idea how it effects others, I'll have none of it in my presence. I'll have none of it for myself or for my friends." Glaring at the man once more, he repeated himself. "Now you apologize to my friend or so help me I will kill you right here and now!"
"I'm sorry!" The man exploded in a litany of regret. "I'm sorry Mister! I didn't mean nothing by it!" There was clear terror in his eyes.
"Its okay," Nathan said slowly. "Ezra put the gun down." He looked at the gambler.
Ezra smiled faintly and lowered the weapon. "I had no intention of harming my gambling companion." He replied meeting Nathan's gaze. I just wanted to impress upon him the folly of his actions."
"I know." Nathan replied and looked at the faces around the table. "I think maybe you guys should call it a night huh?"
The men at the table did not argue with Nathan on that point and immediately collected what was left of their winnings and vacated the table. Led by the man Ezra had almost put a bullet into, the group quickly dispersed out of the saloon, having no desire to fall prey to any more outbursts from the gambler. It took a few seconds after they had departed for things to return to some semblance of normalcy in the tavern with music and lively chatter resuming inside the establishment. When the effects of the incident had dwindled into the background, Nathan sat down at the recently vacated table next to Ezra.
"You okay?" Nathan asked.
"Everyone seems to be asking me that of late, I would not be here if I was anything but 'okay' as you put it." Ezra replied, slipping the derringer back into place and reached for his empty shot glass and the bottle at the same time.
"You should not be drinking like this." Nathan remarked.
"I am not going to sleep any other way." Ezra replied quietly.
"Ezra, maybe you should talk about." Nathan ventured to suggest, however he had only to look up to see the glint in Ezra's eyes to know that the gambler was not ready for that, if ever.
"There is nothing to talk about." Ezra said coldly. "I do not wish to discuss it."
Nathan felt silent, understanding his reluctance. It was too new for him. The attack was only two days in the past and no doubt Ezra would need a great deal of time before he could ever be comfortable with what happened to him. "Ezra," Nathan let out a deep breath. "You can't let this eat you up inside. You have friends and people who care about you, who will understand no matter what you think. You didn't ask for what happened to you and while we can't understand what you're going through, we can help. At least, let us try."
Ezra's response was to drain his recently filled glass. As soon as he had thrown back the drink, he refilled his glass and turned to Nathan. "I will deal with this myself. All I require is to be left alone."
With that, he pushed himself up to his feet and left the table, taking his bottle with him.