Disclaimer: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide.
Unlike the rest of his friends, Buck Wilmington had awoken the next morning finding nothing unusual about his world or his perception of it. As always, he rarely found himself alone when he woke most mornings, usually having company in the sheets of a bed that was not in the residence of his room at the lodging house. Whoever she might be, Buck would usually make an encore performance and of course tell her that she had stolen his heart and undoubtedly he would be back for more at a later date. Whether or not she was wise to this well practised verse was never known and Buck would come away from the encounter feeling quite satisfied at himself at another challenged met and hurdled.
Of course it was not always that way for him. There were disappointments. No man could be truly irresistible all the time and there were moments where his animal magnetism simply failed for some unfathomable reason. On those occasions, Buck took a philosophical slant on things, accepting that even he had to know the sting of rejection or else he would tire quickly of his immeasurable success. Still despite himself, he had to admit feeling some chagrin at his most recent failure. Actually it could hardly be considered a failure since he actually bedded the woman but her reaction the following morning could hardly be deemed a success either.
Buck Wilmington did not know how to perceive his relationship with Inez Rosillos these days. He loved her and considered her to be the only female he would consider settling down with but for some reason that was completely at a loss for him to understand or explain, she wanted nothing to do with him. Lately, she had become so irritable whenever he was around, Buck was glad he was armed whenever he walked into the saloon and no matter what he said to her, nothing could assuage her anger at him.
On this particular morning, Buck had left the bedroom of his latest dalliance, a young lady named Judith Winton and headed for the Standish Tavern for a spot of breakfast that is if Inez decided not to have his guts for garters yet again. Despite the tension between himself and the sultry barmaid and manager, Buck was determined not to give up on her. Well he could not really, he was in love with the woman, just as he knew without doubt or complicity that she was in love with him. Pride was all that stood in their way although in Buck's case he knew that his libido had quite a bit to do with it as well.
As he made his way down the street, he noticed a number of heads turning in his direction. Women were throwing him faint smiles, their eyes meeting his with come hither looks that made Buck wonder if his animal magnetism was putting in some extra effort today. The men remain unaware of any strange goings on, even though some of the women offering these suggestive gazes at Buck were their wives, sisters or sweethearts. Buck shrugged off the attention, his ego big was enough to become accustomed to this sort of attention.
Entering the saloon, he found that it was mostly deserted at this time of the morning, except for the few friends who like himself, was partial to Inez's excellent culinary skills. Vin, Ezra and JD were both dining on a meal of sausages and eggs. The aroma of the food wafted through the air and almost carried Buck the rest of the way inside the saloon. His stomach rumbled in response and Buck hoped Inez had more of what was on those plates left, although the way she felt about him these days, it was likely that she might hurl it in his face rather than serve it to him.
He wished she would just tell him what was wrong so that they could at least talk about it. He knew that part of her resistance to settling down with him had to do with his excessive philandering ways. Still, didn't she know those other women meant nothing to him? A few months ago, he had been ready to settle down with her, to court her properly. Hell, he had even made up a speech about how good they would be together if she could only trust him. Unfortunately, Inez had not yielded even though she did assure him that he needed more time and she was willing to wait for him until he was ready to settle down. At the time, Buck had been relieved, considering himself most fortunate that he had evaded capture by a woman while at the same time, having the only one he cared about informing him that she was willing to wait.
Later on however, he wondered if things had really turned out so favourably for Buck, as he believed. Sure she would wait. Yet that could also mean that if someone one like Jeremy Seacourt appeared out of the woodwork, she could be lost to him because a rival had slipped past him and reached her first, a rival who was not afraid to commit or to be faithful to her. On the nights when he was not in the company of a lady, that was enough to keep Buck awake.
"Morning all," Buck sat down at the table shared by the others and looked around for Inez, whose presence could be heard by the sounds coming from the kitchen. He could smell the inviting aroma of hot food coming from the room and felt another pang of hunger.
"Good morning Mr Wilmington, I trust you slept well." Ezra greeted politely as ever.
"If at all." JD quipped. "How did your big night go?" The young man asked before taking a mouthful of food. JD was perfectly aware form Buck's typical boasting the night before that he had a pre-arranged rendezvous with the fair Miss Winton.
"The lady was duly impressed," he grinned as he pulled up a chair and sat at their table. "As always." He added after a moment's pause.
Both Vin and Ezra rolled their eyes in a mixture of disgust and worn resignation. The bragging was just another part of the morning after ritual performed by Buck Wilmington following a heated evening with a young woman who had no idea that as she was now conquered, would soon be discarded. It was still the source of amazement to the two that some irate father had yet to march their very own Casanova to the altar at gunpoint with the number of women that Buck seemed to bed. Four Corners was not that big a town and yet Buck had managed to cut a swathe though all of them. At the rate Buck was going, he was either going to have to start recycling his past loves or move to another town.
"Spare me the details, Mr Wilmington. I am trying to finish my repast with something of an appetite." Ezra retorted and picked up his cup of coffee and savoured a nice long taste of the beverage.
"You're just jealous." Buck laughed, unrepentant about anything. "Now that you're an attached man."
"Nothing wrong with being beholding to one woman." Vin replied, more than happy about the relationship he had with Alex.
"Not for me." Buck said showing no signs of envy about the happiness that both Ezra and Vin shared with the women in their lives, even though he did feel a slight twinge of it.
Suddenly, Inez appeared from the kitchen and met his gaze. Buck braced himself to get yelled at or worse. However, instead of giving that cold look of contempt that had been her trademark whenever her was in the room, proceeded by a violent outburst where something was thrown at him, Inez gave him a little smile. "Hello Buck." She greeted politely.
Buck almost leapt to his feet upon hearing the warmth in her voice when she spoke, feeling as if he were a dog that had just been thrown scraps. It was to his utter chagrin how this woman could make him feel like a teenager again with a simple smile. Still, she was being nice to him, which had to be an improvement from the present state of their relationship, which bordered on open warfare in its intensity.
"Hi Inez." He said trying to hide the surprise from his voice.
"Buck, may I see you in the kitchen a moment?" She threw that smile at him again and this time it oozed so much innocence, he just knew that she was ready to talk to him again. Perhaps now, he could get to the bottom of what was wrong with her.
"Sure." He answered, frowning a little at the expression being worn by Ezra, Vin and JD.
They were grinning at him, content with the knowledge that he was just as susceptible to the beck and call of one female as the rest of them. All three knew that Buck's Achilles heel was the sultry Mexican barmaid who could have him running after her like some wet behind the ears kid. Inez had always been the one woman who had no illusions as to what Buck was and no amount of charm could change her perception of him. In the beginning, Buck had told them all that he would conquer Inez if it were the last thing he did. Every member of the seven knew, although they did not voice it at the time, just who it was that really got conquered.
For it was not Inez.
Inez slipped back into the privacy of the kitchen, assuming he would follower her. Buck knew there was never any question of that not happening. He utterly adored the woman and any chance of mending the fences between them both was an opportunity he was not about to squander. Turning back to his companions, he noted their restrained sniggers and blatant smirking at his situation and glared at them with narrowed eyes.
"Shut up." Buck hissed quietly as he left them and went to join Inez in the kitchen.
He decided he did not care what the others thought as he strode in eagerly after her. He knew that Inez was afraid of what they had done the night of Chris' bachelor party. Even though every memory of it was imprinted on his mind and revisited several times daily, Buck had come to realise that for her it was a step she had taken too early and was running scared of the consequences. Her reaction to him the next day was proof enough of that. If she would just hear him out, Buck could explain to Inez that he was willing to wait for as long as it took her to acclimatise herself to the idea that they had crossed a pivotal line in their relationship.
However, no sooner than he had had walked through the doors of the kitchen, did he suddenly feel her arms around his neck. There was a moment of clarity where he realised that this was not a gesture of attack before she pulled him forward to meet his lips in a kiss of passion. Buck was so astonished by this sudden show of affection, again; he could do nothing but stand there as her mouth devoured his. He felt her tongue probing past his teeth, forcing its way in really before inflicting upon him a kiss of fiery intensity and passion. Buck could only think one thing as his mind started to register what was happening as a good thing.
Damn does she blow hot and cold!
Still what was happening did require explanation no matter how pleasant it was and Buck did not want to find himself in the same position as he did the night after they had first made love. Inez had always been more to him than just a night's fancy. He loved her and he needed to understand what was happening between them yet again. He tried to stop her; not an easy thing to do considering that her kisses tended to make him weak in the knees. He felt one hand running through his hair and another pulling at the buttons on his shirt and knew that if he wanted to talk, the time to do it was now.
"Inez," he wrenched himself free from her, stilly dizzy from her kisses and the taste of her in his mouth. "What's going on?"
She looked at him with nothing but sheer lust in her eyes and did not answer immediately. Instead she pulled him to her and covered his face in soft kisses. "What... do... you... want... to... happen?" She whispered, speaking each word through an interval of a kiss.
God, he was weakening. "Inez!" He pushed her away again. "You've been madder than hell at me for the past few weeks, now you're coming on strong and don't get me wrong here, I like it. Hell I like a lot but I ain't going down this road with you again and find out it means nothing the next morning."
"Come on Buck," she moved back towards him, snaking around her arms around his neck as she started kissing the skin exposed under his unbuttoned shirt. "You know I love you." She said huskily, her lips were working his way down his chest.
Buck pulled her up before she got any further because as much as he wanted her and he wanted her a great deal, he needed to understand what was happening here. "As much as I want to get down to this, I want to know what's changed between us. One minute, you don't want nothing to do with me and then you're all over me."
Inez paused and her lips curled into a little smile. "Well," she said almost coquettishly as she stepped back from him, a great deal more restrained even though the desire in her eyes was still apparent. "I suppose I should tell you. I've been keeping it a secret because I was not sure what I wanted to do about this. Then I woke up this morning and everything was clear to me, you are the one that I want Buck, I have always wanted you. Since the first moment I saw you but I was too proud and too stubborn to admit it. I did not want to end up like the others but now I cannot deny anything, so I chose to face up to what I feel for you. I love you Buck Wilmington. I love you and I want to be with you. I'm tired of waiting for you to come to me. I don't have time for patience any more, I don't have time for anything, so I come to you because I know you feel the same way."
"Alright," he started to smile, liking what he had heard. "I'm glad you know that because I do love you too and I do want you." He said taking a step towards her. He placed his arms on her shoulders and delighted at the silkiness of her skin. They slid into each other's arms and it felt so right that Buck wondered how he could have ever endured being without her.
"By the way," he asked, as he felt her lips resuming their assault against his neck. "What was the big secret?"
"Nothing of consequence," she mumbled, completely uninterested in what he was asking and more concerned with laving his neck with her wet and seductive tongue. "I'm just a little pregnant."
JD Dunne found nothing unusual when he walked down the street of Four Corners that morning. Everything was it always was in the town at this time of day, businesses were only an hour or two into trading and the peak shopping period had yet to take place. There were not many people in the street, although the concentration would grow as the day progressed. JD liked taking a stroll down the boardwalk during this time. It was quiet and the day ahead held the promise of what could be. Even though the air felt brisk with winter chill, he liked how it felt when he drew breath for the cold invigorated him like nothing did. It kept him poised and alert, ready for trouble and whatever adventure that came riding into town.
As he made his progress across town, a journey that would eventually culminate in his arrival at the jailhouse, the few people who were on the street, greeted him as he walked by, sometimes offering him the respect deserving of the badge he wore and sometimes not. However, the greetings were always friendly and JD decided he liked the friendly more than the respect. Once upon a time, it would have meant the world to him to be shown respect by anyone who came across him and he sought it out like a prize to be won instead of a life-defining trait of survival. The men who had taken him under their wing and made it possible for him to see out his first week in the West without ending up in a pine box had taught him a great deal about respect.
JD loved nothing more than being counted in the number of the seven because these were all men that he respected and who had earned his high favour with such effortless ability. Sometimes, he felt like a raw interloper amongst them. He had come from the east searching dreams of glory and thanks to them, he had not gotten his head blown off in the first hour. Each and every one of them looked out for him and that was quite something for a young man who had no one in the world who would care if he died, to know. From the awesome manner of Chris Larabee who walked through town with such imposing presence, it was impossible not to feel somewhat awed or intimidated, depending on whether or not you were an enemy. He knew he idolised Chris somewhat and felt embarrassed when others noticed it but there were times JD wanted to be so much like Chris that it often slipped his mind what the gunslinger had been forced to endure to become what he was.
However, if he idolised Chris then he considered Buck Wilmington something else entirely. Although theirs was an odd relationship, with Buck sometimes taking on a role that was more than just based on friendship but almost bordered on paternal affection. JD did not remember his father and he often wished he had brothers but if he had known either, JD liked to think they would have been like Buck. Buck looked out for him and kept him safe. While JD used to hate that in the beginning, assuming it was because Buck did not think he was good enough, the young man eventually realised that Buck was just trying to keep him alive, allowing him time to learn the lessons that would help him become his own man.
JD appreciated all their efforts and he had learnt a lot in the two years that he had spent in Four Corners. When he had left the city, he was part driven by his grandiose dreams of fame as well as the loneliness that followed the death of his mother. She had given him everything in life and when her own ended, JD realised just terrible it was to be without her. He had tried to stick it out in the small crack in the wall that use to be their home until the overpowering silence became too much for him and he had to get out and find something else. Selling the place and everything in it had paid for his ticket out west, his saddle and left him enough travelling money for the journey ahead.
When JD had left the bustle of the East, he had hardly looked behind him.
Upon arriving at the jailhouse, he found it to be empty. This was hardly surprising because Chris was seldom seen before noon now that he was married, while Buck was probably still in the bed of the latest in the seeming inexhaustible bevy of women whose company he kept. Buck would either crawl out of bed after noon or when the lady's husband returned, whichever came first. Ezra was most likely at the saloon, pretending to supervise Inez when everyone and his dog knew that it was Inez who really ran the place and Ezra was simply the front man. Still, JD thought the gambler was exceedingly good at appearing to be in charge and he did bring in high rollers that wanted to cross swords with his formidable gambling skills.
Josiah was an early riser but the former preacher spent his mornings trying to restore his church. Although the project had taken the man almost two years now and did look marginally better than the collection of ruins it was initially, there was still a lot of work to be done and no one could begrudge him for doing it. Somehow, JD felt it was important that the church be put back together. It seemed like an important part of a community was missing when everyone could not get together and sing songs to God. While he was not religious, he did remember his mother often saying such things.
If anyone appeared at the jailhouse to accompany him during the watch this morning, it would probably be either Vin Tanner or Nathan Jackson. If Nathan did not show then he probably had patients to deal with but Vin would definitely turn up. Although Nathan and Doctor Styles shared the duties regarding the physical health of all Four Corners' residents, sometimes, even that shared responsibility did not seem enough because there was so much to do. There was always someone breaking a leg, having a baby or getting a fever somewhere in town. JD was surprised that sometimes both healers were not running after patients' 24 hours a day.
Of all the seven, it was Vin that JD could most identify with because they were almost the same age. Well, okay, Vin was older and he seemed to know his way around things better than most people his age. However, when Vin spoke to JD it was never in an instructive sort of way. The tracker had the knack of letting people know things without sounding condescending, more like he was making a passing comment about the weather or something equally trivial not handing out advice that could save your life.
As he waited for the others to make their eventual arrival, he started tidying up the office for something to do, feeling some measure of annoyance at the slovenly state of things. This mess had probably accumulated during Buck's shift, JD decided. There were only two things that Buck liked to do and none of them involved keeping the jailhouse tidy. As the one appointed to wear the Silver Star on his breast, JD took his duties as sheriff very seriously, even though in truth it was Chris who ought to be wearing the badge instead of him. Still, Chris had never confessed any desire for such a thing and JD was smart enough to adhere to Chris' judgement in all things.
Once the office was returned to a somewhat tolerable state, JD parked himself in the chair and rummaged through the folded up wanted posted that had come through the mail. There was no one really dangerous out there at the moment, just a couple of horse thieves and a list of dates of when the judge would be in town to hold court sessions. JD put up the posters on the board and filed the rest away dutifully, knowing that none of the others would bother otherwise.
The hours dragged on slowly and JD soon occupied his time by playing solitaire on his desk. Before he knew it, the sun was peaking in the sky and it was noon. JD reached into his coat to pull out a folded novel he had purchased to idle the time away when he came across something else entirely. Pulling out the chain, he found Buck's pocket watch attached to the end of it. For a moment, the young man could not at all fathom what he was doing with the object Buck Wilmington claimed to be a family heirloom. He searched his memory and knew that Buck had not given to him.
Suddenly, JD felt the urge to go find the man.
Leaving the office, he had no idea where to look but thought he might try the saloon. Ezra was always abreast of things, perhaps he would know with whom Buck had most likely spent the night. For some reason, there was this gnawing at the back of JD's mind that was getting a great deal worse at the discovery of Buck's watch. As he walked down the street, the town had come alive with the frantic activity of the afternoon. People were out in force now, going about their business and carrying out their day to day errands.
He saw Mary Travis, no; he quickly corrected himself, Mary Larabee, further up the street and hastened his pace to catch up with the woman. She was walking to her back facing him, unaware that he was behind her when JD called out. "Mrs Larabee!"
Mary paused and looked over her shoulder at whomever had called her name. Her eyes searched the faces before her and then rested on his. When she met his gaze, her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. The anger in her face was apparent and almost took JD back by the intensity of it. He had never seen Mary give him a look like that before. She reserved such cold glares for men who tried to harm Billy Travis and anyone who made mention of the fact that she was a woman when tyring to get the best of her. He wondered whether or not he ought to approach her in light of the storm cloud that was on her face now. Unfortunately, it was too late to avoid it since he had shouted her name across the street and she had seen him.
He advanced almost cautiously and found himself stopping a suitable distance from her. For some reason, he could feel the rage emanating from her life a tangible force he could see and touch. "Mrs Larabee.." he started to speak.
"What do you want?" She demanded, her voice was sharp with barely concealed rage.
JD was mystified by her hostility and could not understand why she was so upset at him. "Ma'am, are you mad at me or something?"
"Mad at you?" She hissed and without saying anything further struck him across the jaw. She almost flattened him with the delivery of the blow and JD wondered how a willowy blond could possess so much strength. JD staggered backwards but remained on his feet.
"Mrs Larabee?" JD exclaimed holding his jaw, completely astonished as he stared at her. "What did you do that for?"
"You murder my husband and have the audacity to ask me if I'm mad at you, to say nothing of the fact that you're even speaking to me!" She roared.
Murder her husband? Murder Chris? "Me?" JD stammered. "I didn't do anything to Chris!"
"Of course not!" She screamed at him, her anger starting to give way for grief. "You did it the way it's always done in the west, the way one man can kill another and get away with it! You didn't give him much choice but to call you out after what you did."
This was too much for JD. Had the entire world gone insane? People were looking at the commotion that he and Mary was causing, saying nothing to refute the words that she was saying. He did not kill Chris! Chris was still alive! Why did Mary think that he was not? "What I did?" He retorted. "I didn't do anything!" He tried desperately to convince her but Mary was crying openly now, tears running down her pink cheeks.
"After what you did to Vin, you knew that Chris was going to come after you! You turned his best friend in for five hundred pieces of silver, let him hang for a crime he did not even commit and you expected Chris to do nothing less than what he did?"
This was a nightmare. That was the only explanation that JD could wrap his mind around. He was going to wake up from this and find out that it was a terrible dream. However, as he stared in the blue grey eyes that usually held so much warmth, he could not imagine this to be a dream. The pain in her eyes was too powerful to be anything but real. She really did believe that he had killed Chris Larabee and worse of all, she thought him capable of turning Vin Tanner over to the authorities in Tascosa for the $500 reward. How could she believe that of him?
"I swear to you," he persisted. "I didn't do anything to Chris!"
"Stay away from me!" She exploded in outrage, unable to believe that he was saying this to her when the entire town knew the whole ugly truth. He had stood in the street and gunned her husband down in a gunfight, in front of his wife and stepson all because he wanted to be the best there was. She never forgot the look of sorrow in Chris' face as he died, knowing that he was powerless to stop JD's rampage or the fact that he would be the cause of her burying another husband.
"Mrs Larabee, please!" JD was starting to get frantic. He knew Mary could not be right about anything she was claiming because he had gone to bed last night, remembering his day with the same men she had accused him of killing. Yet as he looked at the eyes staring at him, regarding him not with friendly smiles but silent accusation, he started to realise that they believed it. If they believed it then he must be mad because he did not kill anyone, let alone Chris Larabee. "This ain't true! It can't be!" He shouted at her, not knowing what else to do. Suddenly, a thought came to him. "Ask Buck! Buck will tell you this ain't true!"
"Buck's dead!" Mary declared, unable to decide what this little murderer was playing at with his innocence. "He killed himself because of you!"
Nathan could only stare at the man.
His heard constricted in his chest with such overwhelming fear that for a moment, the healer thought the organ might explode. He stood there trembling; unable to fathom how this could be and knew from every detail of what he was seeing this before him was no fantasy. It was real. In the dreams, he could never smell the familiar scent of cotton in the air, or the stench that reeked from the slave quarters being so close to the outhouses provided for them. The place had always smelled like a nest and until now, Nathan had never realised just how much like animals that they were. The clarity of everything about him did not have the misty vagueness of the dream world. This however, he had come to be here was as real as his so called life ever got.
He saw Nicholas Serfonteine walking up and down the patio of the house where the family was having lunch in the distance and almost buckled down and retched there and then. The terror as he saw the master and he knew Serfonteine was still the master by the way the man strutted across the floor like he was invulnerable, was too much for Nathan to endure. Nicholas with his mother Clarissa and young sister Violet, sitting down to breakfast oblivious to the fact beyond the perfect gardens of their mansion, was misery on a scale no white man could ever conceived.
Nathan knew that it was impossible that he was here again because his last memory was of falling asleep in his bed at the infirmary, thinking of all the things that he had to do the next day. He could remember the patients he had to see, the ailments that required healing, not to mention the studying he had to do that night for the accreditation exam he would soon have to sit for. All of that was fresh in his mind and further supported that this was some kind of a nightmare. Yet, he was here, almost fifteen years in the past from where he had been where his name was not Nathan Jackson but Ajax.
The realisation was enough to make his stomach turn again because enduring this the first time round had been agonising enough in itself, let alone having to tolerate it all this again. He looked around the collection of ramshackle structures, aware that these squalid hovels were what passed for the living quarters of Avalon's human livestock. Other slaves were going about their business, scattering to perform the duties for the master, believing that this life of servitude and bondage was the best that they could ever dream of. The overseers too were never far away. Even as he stood watching the house, he could see them on the edge of his perception, lingering close enough to keep an eye on all of them.
Serfonteine was oblivious to Nathan, as the plantation owner sat at his table with its silver cutlery and enjoyed the morning meal with his mother and sisters. Nathan supposed the man would have little notice for just another slave in his stable, even if occasionally Nathan was granted the proud work of being his fencing partner. There was no reason to suspect that in a number of years from now, Ajax would become a healer and take his head in a duel to the death. Nathan decided he better keep that information to himself for the moment. He had no doubt that he was here, out of time and place. Nathan did not know why this had happened but the good Lord seldom saw fit to let anything happen that did not have a purpose. Just because he did not feel incline to tell Nathan what that plan might be, did not mean it was any less important or could be questioned.
Nathan did not know how long he was standing there when he felt the sharp pain of a baton striking the back of his legs with such force; it drove him to his knees. Nathan fell forward, uttering a small cry of pain as he landed on the grainy soil of the ground beneath him. He stop himself from falling flat on his face by landing on his hands. The pain was intense but left no lasting damage and Nathan pushed away the urge to defend himself because that much of Nathan's life here remained in memory.
"Get a move on, Ajax!" The foreman, a pig of man named Elijah Masterson stood over him, daring him to fight because men like him, derived pleasure from torture and sadistic brutality. They were the perfect overseers because they could indulge their sick desires on defenceless people who had fewer rights than an animal. Nathan remembered the lessons of this past well enough to know that if he retaliated, Masterson would have him beaten or killed. In this place, he was a nigger slave and a white man's property.
Nathan's hands crumpled into fists as he controlled his rage. Forcing the anger away into a singular place where it would cause himself no more harm, Nathan slowly got to his feet, ignoring the pain that would subside soon enough. He met Masterson's gaze and dropped his head, in the humiliating gesture of subservience that he had done all his life until the age of seventeen when forces beyond his control had made his gamble on a desperate bid for freedom. "Yes Sir," he said uttering the words and felt the bile surface in his throat.
"Master wants you to go with Zeus into town." Masterson retorted, slightly disappointed that the young man had not put up a fight. He did not like the slave known as Ajax for some reason, even though the master favoured the boy for his ability to be of some sport when Serfonteine needed the fencing practice. Masterson had seen others like Ajax in the past, uppity niggers who forgot their place and had to be reminded with painful and life long lessons. Masterson longed to teach Ajax one of those lessons because the backbone of his pride had to be broken now, or he would troublesome forever.
Ajax was always too smart because he did not look at Masterson like he was a slave, lower that dog piss in the scheme of things. He looked at the overseer like he was a man and that was something Masterson could not endure, no matter what. Still Ajax was wise enough not to get out of place and so Masterson was powerless to act for he was young and a prime piece of horse flesh that the master would not endure wasting unless for a very good reason.
"Yes Sir," Nathan nodded and tried to remember which direction to go towards the stable, where Zeus was no doubt waiting for him while he saddled the horses and wagon. He started walking nevertheless, remembering how Masterson had felt about him back then. The man always tried to provoke him into doing something stupid and Nathan had always held back, just to rob him of the pleasure. Until of course the night Rebecca died and then Masterson had his wish when Nathan was strung up and whipped.
As he drew away from the slave quarters, he stepped from a dismal world of shanties to the glamour of well kept gardens and a white polished marble where people could dine while watching their slaves get whipped to death, he thought ruefully. The walk gave Nathan time to think about what was happening to him. He knew that this was some parody of reality because there was too much detail for it to be a dream. There were trees where he remembered it, cracks in the foundation of the house that he not noticed before but did now all told him that this place was tangible and it existed as something with as much substance as his life in Four Corners. Nathan did not know this had come to pass and frankly, he did not care about the specifics, he was more concerned how he would survive this nightmare again.
He examined his hands and saw it devoid of scars that had been acquired since the years he had left this place. His hands were always working hands as only a slave's could be but without even seeing himself in the mirror, Nathan knew that he was seventeen years old again. He considered his options at the possibility of having to live his life over again, altering key events so that things would transpire smoothly. No, he did not like that idea. Besides, there was nothing really he wanted to change about the way things happened. The same tragedies and grief would be felt no matter how much alteration could be done. Besides, there was something strangely sacrilegious about changing the way things happened, no matter how much he might have wished it.
"Nathan." A soft voice hissed as he came across the row of peach trees flanking the walk towards the stable.
Nathan froze, knowing of only one person who would call him that in this place. He saw her through the leaves of the tree and felt his heart swell in utter joy at the one bright thing that had kept him going throughout his tenure as Nicholas Serfonteine's property. The healer skirted the edge of the trees and hurried to join the young girl that was waiting for him on the other side. She broke into that familiar smile of brilliance at the sight of him and was somewhat puzzled when Nathan picked her up and twirled her around at the sheer joy of seeing her.
"Becky!" Nathan almost wept from the pleasure of holding his sister in her arms again. He had forgotten about her in all his ruminations about the place and scolded himself as the fool he was. How could he forgotten Rebecca?
"Nathan?" She squealed. "What's the matter with you? Put me down!"
Nathan set her down and could not get over the idea that she was here. He supposed that if he was indeed transported back through time somehow, he should have guessed that she would be here as well. After all, she was as much a part of his life during this time as Serfonteine and the plantation called Avalon. At the moment, however, Rebecca was looking at him quizzically, in the way that told him that she thought he was crazy. Rebecca who would never have the distinction of having a surname appeared as she did the last time he had saw her, beautiful and pristine. At the age of fourteen she was already a beauty and even in the plain cotton dress she wore, it was easy to see how much she could be desired by someone who was used to indulging every desire. Involuntarily, the image of the bruised and violated Rebecca surfaced in his mind long enough for Nathan to crush it out of existence. He would not think of her like that, not when she was still alive.
"Nothing," Nathan said feeling the emotion rise out of his heart at the sight of her, unable to deny just how good it felt to see her again. He embraced her again, much to her consternation before parting from her. "I'm just happy to see you, that's all." He smiled.
"You only saw me this morning." She pointed out, still somewhat confused by his behaviour. "Anyway, I heard you was going to town with Zeus."
"Masterson said I had to go," he answered, wondering how come it could be so easy to have a conversation with her as if the past fifteen years had never been. It was with sadness that he realised that it was fifteen years she had not known. It struck him just how much like Alexandra Styles she resembled, particularly now that he had seen Rebecca again and could make the comparison. No wonder, he had become so attached to the lady doctor when he had first laid eyes on her. Even her manner was so much like his Becky's.
"I'll see you tonight then," she replied. "The master wants me to work at the house today."
A memory flared in his mind then. It was so powerful that it had the force of a physical entity. Ringing through his mind, screaming alarms in every dark corner, Nathan felt the same constriction of fear in his throat as he realised that everything that had so far transpired today was a recreation of a particular day in his life. From his being sent on an errand that would see him gone all day, to Becky telling him that she would be working in the main house again. Suddenly, he understood why he had been sent back to this particular day of all days. The irony of it was, he had always dreamed to be here and when it had come, Nathan had almost let it slipped past him without knowing how significant the day was.
Tonight Nicholas Serfonteine would come to the slave quarters Nathan shared with Becky, while he was still away in town with Zeus and rape his fourteen year old sister, beating her so badly she would die in his arms, with her blood all over him. The image of her returned to him with such fierce intensity that Nathan could not speak for a moment as he tried to come to grips with what was to be done about it. He was here in the place he had dreamed of being all his life, with the foreknowledge of events to come that could save her. Nathan had always wondered what difference it would have made if he had just known what was in store for his sister when he left for town that day.
"Becky," he looked around and made certain that no one was in sight, particularly Masterson who had a habit of watching him like a hawk. "Do you trust me?" He asked, holding her hands and staring into her brown eyes so that she would understand that he was absolutely serious.
"You're my brother stupid," she chuckled, wondering why he was behaving so strangely. "Of course I trust you."
"Good," he swallowed, knowing how forbidden it was to say what he was thinking at this moment but knew of no other way to make her understand. "We've got to escape."
She stared at him as if he was mad and he could hardly fault her for coming to that conclusion. Escape was the most feared and anticipated word in the slave vocabulary. It could mean death or hope, it depended on the perspective. However, one thing it did hold common for all those who knew what it meant, was the extreme danger of even thinking such a thing, let alone speaking it out loud. "Nathan are you out of head?" She hissed, horrified that they were even having this conversation. Her eyes looked about her, hoping no one else had heard what he had just said.
"I know it's dangerous Becky," Nathan continued, his gaze also darting about furtively, seeking out anyone that might overhear them and kill this flight for freedom before it could even begin. "But we've got to go and we've got to now. Please don't ask me to explain. We have to leave this place."
"And go where?" She demanded, unable to imagine the enormity of what he was saying. The dream of freedom was something far away, unattainable. Most of them dreamed of it but none dared to take the chance at trying to acquire it. As strong and resolved as she was, Rebecca was not sure she wanted to make the attempt herself. Failure would mean death or worse.
Nathan thought quickly and it came to him with surprising ease. He had escaped once already so he knew it could be done. "We've got to get to Kentucky." He answered the words tumbling from his lips as if inspired by some hidden well of hope he never believed he had. His escape remained clear in his mind for most parts, except for the last day or so when he had been delirious with fever. He had kept going out of sheer determination, pushed on by a fervour that was almost as intense as this desire to see Rebecca saved. If he could get her out of the south, Josiah would help her and she would have the chance of a life, she would never have had if she remained here. "There's a preacher on his way through Kentucky, he'll be there in less than two days. We need to find him because he'll help us."
"Help us to do what?" The disbelief was still apparent in her voice. She could not believe this was coming from her normally dependant brother whom had been incapable of making a rash decision since the day that he was born. She was the dreamer not him. Rebecca was used to such foolishness coming from her, when it was late at night and they both sat up and watched the star overhead. However, hearing it from Nathan was disconcerting.
"Help us to get to the north." Nathan explained, not wishing to discuss this any further. "There's a war coming Becky and it will change everything we know but we can't be here when it arrives."
"Nathan..." She wanted to argue but he silenced her with a look.
"Becky," he said softly and hoped she could understand how necessary this was. "We cannot be here tonight because the master is coming for you."
Rebecca opened her mouth to ask how he knew that but decided she did not want to know. Suddenly, all those long searching looks the master threw in her direction whenever she was serving in the house return to her mind. She remembered the way his hand would brush against hers as she served him his meals, how his eyes would travel up and down her body like she were some piece of meat for the taking. She was not naive and she was aware that the Master often took slave lovers, sometimes willingly, most of the times no. However, if he came for her, there would be no choice for her to make, just obedience and inside, she knew she could not let him touch her. Slowly but surely, she began to understand what her brother was implying.
"Alright Nathan," she nodded in complete understanding now. "What do we do?"
"Inez Rosillos, are you going to spend all day in bed?" The shrill voice tore through her mind and made Inez sit up abruptly in her bed. She wondered who had interrupted the privacy of her bedroom and hoped they had better have a damn good reason for rousing her out of her sleep. Considering the night she had had, tossing and turning in the sheets as she tried to make the decisions that would affect the rest of her life, being woken up so abruptly was likely to get someone killed or worse.
Inez rolled around in her bed, not quite awake as she turned to regard whomever was standing before her while at the same time, trying to remember where it was she kept that gun she had come to Four Corners with. Although the instances were rare, there were occasions when drunks who had lodgings in the saloon would stumble into her bedroom by mistake. Most were willing to leave without causing further inconvenience but some were a little more persistent and required her gun to make their departure.
"Who are you and what are you doing in my room?" She rubbed her eyes as she turned to her visitor.
"I am your mother and this is my house!" The woman grumbled staring at her, hands on her hips.
Inez blinked and indeed found herself standing in front of her mother, Paloma Rosillos. Appearing as she did the last time that Inez had returned home her village, Paloma was a striking woman with high cheek bones and jet black hair that was always worn in a tight bun. She regarded Inez sternly, looking at her daughter in very much the same manner as she had done the day Inez and her sister Calla had sneaked out of the house one night when they were supposed to be in bed. Both girls had wanted to watch the party at the Don Paulo's house even though they were strictly forbidden not to.
"Mama?" Inez exclaimed, never believing she could be so happy to see her mother, especially now. Without any hesitation, Inez jumped out of her bed and embraced her mother hard, without pausing to take a look at where she was or questioning how this miracle could have happened. She did not care; her mother was here at a time when Inez needed her guidance the most. Only Paloma could advise her now. "Mama, I'm so happy to see you." Inez gushed as she held onto the familiar warmth of the woman whose soothing words could make everything alright.
"I suppose you think that this is going to make me forget that you are late to work at the Don's house." Paloma said with the same terseness to her voice, although there was warmth in her face as she spoke the words and she was returning the embrace.
Inez pulled away and stared at her mother. "What are you talking about mama?" She asked and then suddenly took a close look at her surroundings to discover that she was not in her room above the Standish Tavern. In fact, she was nowhere at Four Corners at all. She was in her room at her home in her village. How could this be? Her mind started to cloud with bewilderment because she knew where this place was and she did not think she was dreaming but she was here and this was her mother before her.
"Mama, I'm home aren't I?" She asked, her brow knotting in confusion as she took closer examination of things around her. Although the memory was almost two years behind her, the room in which she had grown up had not changed. It was never a lavish room but in it, Inez had grown from a girl into woman thanks to Paloma's assertions that a woman could do anything she wished, if she only put her mind to it. Her bed, the quilt she and Calla had made, even to the dolls whose painted faced was faded by time as was the faint pattern of the dress it wore.
"Yes?" Paloma started to look at her with concern, wondering if her daughter was not suffering from some kind of fever that was leaving her mind in such an addled state. "Inez, are you feeling alright?"
Inez did not answer and went to the window of her bedroom. Leaning outside, she saw the village below the hill where her house was situated and in the further distance was Don Paulo's mansion, just as she remembered it. She could see the people moving up and down the dirt streets, old men sitting on under the shade of some awnings, chattering excitedly about the goings on in town while further away from the main centre of the village, she could spy chicken being fed within their enclosure. A group of women were stripping the husks of corn, working their way through a large pile before placing the end product in a wicker basket. Inez knew what it was like to be hunched over doing that kind of work and the pile looked like several hours' work. Even further out of town, she could see the goats being kept in their own enclosures. The sights and smells of her village filtered into her mind and offered her comfort the way nothing had been able to do during the past few days.
"I'm fine mama," Inez smiled, looking at her with tears glistening in her eyes. She was home even if she could not understand how she had come to be here or how long she would be able to remain with the present situation between herself and the senior Don Paulo for the death of his son. "I'm just very happy to be here."
"You have not been anywhere else." Paloma stated.
"Of course I have," Inez said confused. "I had to leave when I rejected Don Paulo's son." She reminded her mother.
Paloma stared at her blankly, unable to fathom about what her daughter was trying to say. "Inez, you are making me worried. You know the Don's son is married to that nice girl from Ciudad Juarez a year ago. What is this nonsense you are talking about?"
Inez looked at her mother with similar astonishment, unable to understand how this could be. She knew what had happened to her during the past two years as much as she remembered that she had been forced to flee her home after Paulo's son had tried to force her. Was it just her imagination, what she had been forced to endure in her flight? Inez knew that all that she had experienced following her departure from here was real.
"Mama, I left two years ago." She replied. "I do not know how I came to be here but I do know that I was forced to go because of the Don's son."
"Inez," Paloma came forward and embraced her child, as if will alone could drive away this dementia that had taken over the mind of her wilful daughter. "You have been nowhere in two years. You have continued to remain in this house and you still work at the Don's house. His son and his wife Maria live in the city now, he only comes back here during the holidays."
If she had not gone anywhere and had been here all that time what about her memories of Four Corners. Her friendship with Mary Travis and Alexandra Styles? Her responsibilities to Ezra as the manager of his mother's business and his partner, to say nothing about the friendships she had made there with Vin and JD and last but not the least, Buck? Those memories were not fantasy. They were clearer to her than what she was seeing now and started to wonder if her present condition was responsible for bringing about this dream where her life had gone on without the turmoil of the junior Don Paulo's obsession of her.
If it had not been for him, Inez would have most likely remained in the village with her family and would have probably have found some nice man with whom she could spend her life with. She would have been a farmer's wife and have endured nothing but a safe and honest existence. She would never have been in the situation she was now, unmarried and alone, with no man in her life. No man that she could trust with any degree of confidence. Yet, that had not changed the fact that she had still given herself to Buck in a night of passion that she did not regret but had not considered the ramifications of which until it was too late.
However, if this before her was reality then what she remembered was also wiped clean. Is that not what she had wanted for the longest time? Particularly in the last few weeks, when she had made the discovery that had been unimaginable to even consider? She had prayed that a solution had come and for the longest time, while she was lost in the conundrum of indecision, believed that no hope existed for the sin she had committed. However, it appeared that her prayer to God had been fulfilled and he had sent his forgiveness in this reality where she had never known Buck Wilmington.
Which meant she was no longer pregnant.
Her hands flew instinctively to her abdomen, much to the growing apprehension of her mother who was starting to believe that she had gone quite mad. Inez tried to see if she could feel any signs of the baby that had caused so much turmoil in her life during the past six weeks. When she had first suspected that she might be with child, Inez had almost refused to believe it. She could not believe the unfairness of it all! She had abstained for so long, kept herself away from him and in one night, albeit one wonderful night, he had gotten her with child. If she was not so utterly horrified by the whole situation and the moral dilemma it would cause, she would have shot him.
"Inez, I think you should get back into bed," Paloma said, ushering Inez back to her bed. "I don't think you are well.
Unfortunately, Inez was in no posiiton to disagree.
"I'll send Calla to go to work in your place." Paloma replied as Inez slipped into the covers, trying to decide whether being she liked the idea that she was no longer with Buck Wilmington's child.
At the time, all Inez could think about was how terrible it would be to have this baby and worse of all, having to tell Buck about it. He would insist upon marrying her and she really did not want that at this point. She had no wish for either herself or Buck be forced into marriage because of a child and yet she did not know how she could have it without a marriage. To have a child without a father would be difficult enough with the social implications that went with. Although to be truthful, she knew she could count on the support of friends like Mary and Alex, who would not judge her harshly. The town of Four Corners was another thing entirely and she had been terrified of what would happen when they found out, since hiding it seemed rather out of the question.
"Now you rest Inez," Paloma urged as Inez lay her head back on her pillow, her hand stroking Inez's dark hair in a manner that always managed to put her to sleep as a child. "I will make some you some tea and you can clear your head."
"I always loved how you do that mama," Inez smiled faintly as she met her mother's gaze and savoured her touch. "Was it hard for you mama?"
"What is that my darling?" Paloma asked gently, continuing the soothing gesture over her hair.
"Raising us alone after papa died?" Paloma had been sole provider for herself and her younger sister Calla ever since the death of their father when she was a child. It was hard for Inez not to become as strong willed as she was when Paloma Rosillos was the example by which she had to follow. Her mother had never made it look difficult, raising two children while at the same time, seeing no reason to be marry again.
"It was hard Si," her mother nodded, struck by the question but seeing no reason not to answer. It was no strange a request as anything else Inez had asked of her today. "But the hardship has its own rewards. I miss your father so much," Paloma's own image of Inez's fathre was forever as the handsome officer in the centralist army of General Antonio López de Santa Anna, who had swept her off her feet in his smart uniform. "I loved him very much and when he left us and moved beyond, I saw no reason to replace him when I had my two girls to share the love I would given to him. It was difficult but my reward was you and your sister and it is strange that when you are older and wiser, it comes to you that it is enough to be happy."
Inez listened to her mother crooning an old folk song that she used to sing to Inez and Calla when they were children, particularly when they were sick or unable to sleep. As she felt her mind drift off, wondering if she would wake up and find herself back in her bed at the saloon, Inez honestly could not say if it was a blessing or a curse. She had wanted this for so long and now that it appeared that she had been granted a reprieve, she suddenly found herself hoping for reasons that had were still unclear to her that she wanted things the way they had been in Four Corners.
She wanted her baby back.
What the hell was he doing here?
Josiah flinched, knowing that was probably not the word he ought to use when he was standing in front of an entire congregation of churchgoers who were at the moment, staring at him, waiting in anticipation of his next spoken word. The paused expanded as Josiah looked around like a deer caught in someone's sights and discovered that he was standing at the pulpit, wearing the robes of a preacher giving Sunday. Then again, hell might not be far wrong as a description for his present situation. He stared at back at the congregation, tongue tied and unable to form an articulate word and glanced at the book before him, hoping that he had written down notes for the direction of the sermon or for that matter what it was about in the first place.
Unfortunately, God was not on his side today.
Before him, there was only a copy of the bible with no clues leading to what he had been talking about. Josiah swallowed; painfully aware of the slight rumble of voices that was moving through the congregation as they worked out what was wrong with the preacher. Adjusting his collar, which felt just as stiff and uncomfortable as Josiah had remembered the things to be, succeeded in killing a few seconds but did little more than that. He knew he had to say something because the faces staring back at him had shifted from confused to irritation.
"Father," a voice spoke behind him and almost made Josiah reach for the sky for the sheer fright of it. It did not help that he was so filled with anxiety, his nerves were like a Mexican jumping bean.
Josiah found a young priest looking at him in concern, with short red hair and equally pale skin. "Yes?" He tried to sound as if nothing was wrong but could not quite manage to inject that much persuasion into his voice.
"Father Sanchez, is there something wrong?" The young priest in his dark robes inquired.
"I'm not feeling to well," Josiah whispered, clearing his throat for good measure as he tried to avoid looking at the crowd again. He was never good with public speaking and whomever had given him the vile concoction that had been responsible for this bad dream was going to pay when he woke up. "Could you continue the rest of the service?" He asked, hoping the silent plea in his eyes was not lost on his younger colleague.
"Certainly," the man smiled in understanding. "I'll be happy to."
Josiah made a hasty withdrawal at that point, hurrying out of the main floor of the church to the room secreted in the rest of the building. Curious gazes followed him as he made his exit but Josiah did not care. He just wanted to be away from all those eyes. Disappearing through the door that left the church and the service behind him, Josiah continued up the length of corridor until he could not hear the voice of the other priest showing him how it was supposed to be done. Only when he was far enough away to not be reminded of how bad he was at giving sermons, did Josiah pause to take a deep breath.
Once he had his bearings, following several deep breaths of air that helped to settle the butterflies in his stomach and the nerves that were rampaging through his system with hordes of anxiety in pursuit, Josiah took stock of his situation. It was not hard to discern actually, once he had time to think about. His situation was this; he had no idea how he had come to be before a congregation, doing what he assumed was delivering a speech until that terrible moment when he senses returned to him and his ability to orate had vanished. Neither was he aware why he was wearing the uniform of a preacher when he had left the path years ago.
The church where he had been delivering his sermon did not at all look familiar to him and that alarmed Josiah considerably. His last memory was of Four Corners. He knew nothing else beyond that one significant point. How he had come to be here was not only eerie, it was down right impossible. He knew he was not a priest and yet he was in a church. Looking around himself, he recognised it to be quite intact, unlike the one he had spent so much time in Four Corners attempting to restore to its former glory. Suddenly, Josiah had a need to escape this building and find out where he was.
He felt most confused because he knew that his last memory had been indulging in a game of cards with Nathan, Ezra and JD before retiring to bed at the lodging house in Four Corners. He could remember the faces of those friends much more clearly than he could understand what he was doing here. Yet those people had stared at him like he had always been there. Josiah had thought it was a dream to begin with but his dreams had crows in it and so far not one member of the ornithoid species was to be seen.
He continued down the corridor, seeking out the exit that led out of the building. It was not a big church but it had rooms for residential purposes and had to assume that if this was a reality and he indeed was a priest here, chances are this would be his place of residence as well. However, at the moment, Josiah was not about to make any snap judgements about anything he saw before him. Even though the floors of polished wood and the brick walls painted white with crucifixes and paintings at regular intervals, he was still not ready to say this was anything but a dream.
A set of large woodens doors awaited him when he reached the end of the corridor and Josiah hoped that it was the exit. He really needed to be outside, so that he could take a breath of air in his lungs and tell himself that he did not feel as insane as everything looked to him at this moment. Pulling apart the large doors, which were undoubtedly Spanish in its design, sunlight poured in to the dim corridor. Josiah savoured the heat against his skin and looked into the landscape.
Judging from the flattened terrain and the dry heat of the air, Josiah guessed very quickly he was still out west somewhere. The sun was shining brightly in the sky although it did not have the peak that it would possess were it noon. There a town surrounding this house of God even though from first impressions, Josiah did not believe it was Four Corners. He already knew it was Sunday but further evidence to the fact was added what he spied beyond the patch of green surrounding the building. There were horses and buggies awaiting their owners return as they were tethered to the fences surrounding the church and some were even bound to a few slender saplings that passed for trees.
"Curiouser and curiouser." Josiah frowned, feeling a little like a blond girl that had suddenly stepped through the looking glass. The preacher stepped forward into the light as if being in the sunshine could explain the mystery that had brought him here. In truth, he was afraid because he suspected that this was no dream and through some quirk of fate, he had been placed here in a reality far removed from the one he knew. Such things were not beyond the realm of explanation for he was an opened minded enough man to know that there was much in the universe that remained an enigma for those who loved solving puzzles. This was once such riddle awaiting a mind perceptive enough to unravel it.
He wondered if this had anything to do with the conversation that he had been having with Ezra and JD the morning before. They had been discussing dreams, fulfilled or not. Josiah had confessed his reason for leaving the priesthood had a great deal to do with the inability to sit idly by while the rest of the world fought for its survival. He had never been good at turning the other cheek and since that was the utmost requirement for a man of cloth, Josiah could not live with the hypocrisy of it. It was not a decision he regretted because since becoming part of the seven lawmen who defended Four Corners, he found that there was other ways to fulfil the Lord's work. The seven had helped many people since they began their tenure at Four Corners and that in itself gave Josiah some measure of peace.
Was Ezra and JD similarly displaced? The preacher considered this as he continued his walk into the so far unfamiliar town. While it had all the earmarks of an atypical town in the Territory, this was not Four Corners, neither was it Sweet Water or Bitter Creek. From the barber pole to the livery, even down to the general store, it was in every way a community like the one he had called home. If this was reality as he believed and not some dream, where would Ezra and JD be? In fact, where would all of them be?
If some force had considered this his greatest wish and granted it, what was to say that the same had not taken place for the rest of the seven? His stomach hollowed at what that would mean for Nathan Jackson and Chris Larabee in particular. However, it was not so much the where that concerned Josiah as much as the how. How had this happened? Now it was true that he had seen many things in his life that defied explanation, the most notable of these would have to be the incident surrounding Darien Lambert. That night, they had learnt that the physical world was not as immutable as any one had ever believed. Altering certain events could shape reality. All it required was the medium that could accommodate the change.
Josiah stepped onto the boardwalk that ran up the length and breadth of the town, momentarily wondering if there was some preordained design that made one town in the territory no different from the other. This whole situation reeked of some form of unreality and yet Josiah could not helped be awed by the flawlessness of its execution. Like magic, he was put in this setting with no one the wiser that he had lived the last fifteen years somewhere else. What kind of spell could induce some marvels.
Spells. Magic.
The two words remained in his memory when the others vanished, awaiting replacement by other thoughts. Josiah froze in his tracks as he tried to understand why those words were so important to him. They clung to the edge of his awareness, refusing to let go as they defied him to solve the mystery of why it was so important he understand why they were there. It lolled around in his head for a few seconds, teasing him with an answer right on the edge of the periphery where he could only grasp at it. Suddenly, like a gasp of a held breath, it escaped him and suddenly, Josiah had some vague idea as to how this could have happened.
Billy.