Answers
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Ezra gazed at the dust covered unshaven faces
that surrounded him. “Now fine sir we do not want to have to ask
again. Where is that bounty hunter friend of yours, Mr.
Tanner?”
The man who spoke gripped the gamblers chin
roughly. Standish's wrists were bound tightly behind his back. His over
coat and suit coat had long been stripped from him, leaving him shivering in
the winter night. He attempted to wiggle his fingers and wrists to
loosen the ropes. Things were due to turn ugly.
Ezra's
ever present smile graced his clean shaven dimpled face again as he once
again stated in his quiet slightly southern drawl he had no idea. This
response earned him a vicious double blow to the abdomen. The air
forcibly whooshed from his lungs and he doubled up fighting for breath.
He should have hit the frozen ground but a set of unseen hands gripped his
upper arms and kept him from falling to the earth.
“I grow tired of asking. Where is
Tanner?” The older man wrenched Ezra's head up by his shortly cropped
brown hair.
A
crooked smile etched the gamblers features, “And I'm tired of telling you,”
Ezra breathed, “I don't know who you're talking about.” Ezra's answer won
him twin blows to the jaw. His head snapped around spraying blood from
his mouth as pain exploded inside his jaw, he could feel his molars rip and
tear the soft tissue of his cheeks, blood filled his
mouth and drooled from the corners of his lips. Ezra's ears rang and he
felt himself slip to the ground. He could not get his eyes to focus
readily.
Hands hauled him back to his feet but his
knees were like water and would not support his weight, as the world spun out
of control, his captors held him up. “I am getting tired of this.”
The interrogator said.
Through swollen cut lips with blood drooling
from his mouth the gambler smiled, “You and me both.”
Again the man grabbed the younger man's now
bruised jaw, “Then tell me where he is.” The interrogator knew he
would not get his answer, Ezra confirmed it when he smiled, closed his eyes and
shook his head ‘no.’ “Loosen his tongue.”
The blows began to rain down on him.
Standish crumpled to the earth, fists and feet pummeled his body.
After one particular blow to the ribs he cried out as a rib or two gave
way. Blood flowed freely from his nose and mouth. He tried to curl
into a fetal position anything to protect his ribs and face but his back took
blows just as easily.
“O.k. lets see if he's willing to talk
now.” They hauled him to his feet. Ezra could not get his legs to
respond to the simple order to stand. He was like an unstrung puppet.
“Now son where is Tanner?” Ezra's once
crisp green eyes were blood shot and swollen, they rolled slightly back in his
head. Seeing this, the older man shook the gambler again, trying to
revive him. “Where is he?” he hissed with frustration.
Ezra's stomach lurched upward,
his nausea exploded and vomit shot from his swollen mouth covering his
captor.
“You dare not do that.” With that he
viciously back handed the gambler, Ezra's consciousness left him in a brilliant
explosion of color, he never felt his head bang off the frozen ground of the
alley. “Leave him.” The older man stared one last time at the
once well dressed gambler. He should have been the easiest one to
break. As a con man and gambler Ezra Standish should have held an
allegiance to no one but himself but apparently he read the gambler
wrong. The older man followed his men out of the darkened alley, leaving
the gambler in a tied heap in the frozen night.
Ezra did not know how long he laid on the
ground or where exactly he was or what happened. What he did know was
that he hurt all over, his teeth chattered and he shivered
uncontrollably. With every shake his ribs screamed in hot fiery
protest. He tried to open his eyes but his lids felt like they were
stuck together. He tried to move his hands but they would not
respond. He figured out he was lying on his side.
Ezra attempted to raise his head and was
rewarded with a sharp blinding pain that almost threw him comfortably back into
unconsciousness. He rolled onto his knees, resting his forehead on
the cold solid mud hoping he wouldn't retch. Leaning heavily against the
wooden building Ezra shimmied himself to his feet. His knees shook
and threatened to fold unable to put his hands out for balance he used his
shoulder as a guide as he stumbled down the alley.
One foot in front of the other, one foot in
front of the other, it was so cold, he hurt so bad.
Ezra could make out the street. He finally made it to main street and instinctively lurched to the
saloon. He did not plan on going to the saloon, his mind was not
working on a thinking upper intelligence level, but on instinct only, the
saloon was a beacon or a den a place he knew a place of relative safety.
If he met people on the board walk he did not register them nor did they make
themselves known. Somewhere deep down in his mind he recognized the
saloon and stepped through the door.
The light was blinding he would have brought
his hands up to shield his damaged eyes but they were still tied behind his
back. The warmth blasted him like desert heat. He paused for
a moment he made it to his destination but he was unable to plan on what
to do next.
“Ezra?” Buck recognized the gambler. He sat at a table
with Josiah and
There standing in the saloon door way with
his hands tied behind his back swayed Ezra. His usually clean white shirt and
printed vest were awash with dirt, blood and vomit. His jacket was
missing. One eye was black and swollen closed, blood ran freely from both
nostrils abrasions adorned his flushed cheeks.
All three immediately jumped to their feet
and hastily made their way over to him. Buck and Josiah each grabbed an
arm and led him to a chair.
“Ease him down here,” Buck said pulling
out a chair with his free hand.
Josiah guided the gambler down. “Get us a
Whiskey over here,” Josiah shouted then turned his attention to his
friend. “Ezra... Ezra you hear me?” He held the gambler's head up and
leaned him back in the chair.
“I'm gonna go get Nate,” Buck said
hurrying out the door.
The barmaid handed Josiah a double shot of
whiskey and the bottle. “O.K. Ezra drink
this.”
Ezra only vaguely realized what was going
on. He could not make out the features or the voices around him but he
some how knew he was in the saloon and therefore safe. His fogged mind did
not register the distinctive tobacco smell of the saloon or the clatter of
voices and glass mugs and shot glasses, he was not even aware of his own teeth
chattering.
“He's
freezing,”
Blood ran down the back of Ezra's throat from
his nose some of it ran down his trachea triggering a cough. Pain ripped
through his body as his ribs cried out in protest as the cough automatically
caused muscle contractions, blood and saliva shot out, he instinctively tried
to curl up and would have fallen out of his chair if Josiah and
Nathan, Buck and J.D burst through the saloon
doors, “Whoa what happened? Who did that to him?” J.D. asked as he laid
eyes on beaten gambler.
Nate quickly and efficiently knelt
beside his friend and ran his hands over Ezra, “hold on Ezra, your gonna be ok.” Without looking up or stopping what
he was doing, “He needs to be warmed up. Buck, you and J.D.
draw up a hot bath in the back.”
“Not a problem.” Buck grabbed J.D. by
the collar and hauled him to the back of the saloon.
“
Without a word the giant Josiah effortlessly
swung Ezra up and cradled him child like in his arms.
“That'll work”
Within twenty minutes they were warming him
up in the hot water bath that J.D. and Buck had drawn up. Nate kept the gambler
from sliding under the water and drowning as Josiah gently washed his face it
was hard not to touch a tender spot. The once clean shaven face became
distorted with swelling and abrasions. Every once in a while Ezra would
fight and splash about mumbling, at times like these Buck and
“We wait whoever did this might come back to
finish the job. Someone stays with him around the clock. The rest
of us will keep our eyes and ears open.” Larabee said pushing himself off
the wall.
Ezra did not really want to wake up. He
enjoyed a good nights rest. But as consciousness slowly ebbed its
way up out of the well of blackness, pain began to register. What started
out as a dull ache in his head became more and more intense,
it was becoming arguably the worst headache of his life. He groaned and tried
to raise his hand to his head this sparked a new infuriating pain through his
side. “Oh no...” he moaned quietly trying
desperately not to disturb his head or ribs again. Maybe he could slip
back to sleep. Then a voice penetrated the fog and pain. “Hey Ezra you in there?”
At first Ezra did not recognize the
voice. He was forced to open his eyes. It took along time for them
to focus on the young smiling features of… “J.D.?”
His voice was hoarse and barely a whisper his jaw burned with the
movement. The face disappeared briefly and then he heard, “Hey Buck Buck he's waking up.”
Soon Buck Wilmington's face was peering down
at him. He smiled, “Hey Ezra how are you feeling?” He watched Ezra
closely his eyes were still glazed and half hooded. It was nearly
“What happened?” He ran his tongue over
his loosened teeth and his lips.
“Here drink this.” Buck carefully
raised Ezra's head off the pillow and gently tipped water down his
throat. The gambler grimaced and sighed a thanks
when Buck eased his head back down on the pillow.
“You really don't remember what
happened?” J. D. asked.
Ezra stared at the younger man confused and
then to Buck. It slowly dawned on him that he was not in his own room certain
things were in the wrong places. Why
were Buck and J.D. in the room? Did he get drunk, no not likely he did
not drink to excess, normally. He tried to
sit up but pain ripped through him. Buck easily laid him back , it felt as if lead ran through his veins.
“You got beat up pretty good last p.m. We
were hoping you could tell us.”
The gambler stared incredulously at the
gunman. He couldn't believe it but the pain that tormented his
body said it was true. “Did they knock out any teeth?” Standish
asked running his tongue once again tentatively over his film covered
teeth searching for any tell tale gaps. It hurt even to move his tongue.
Buck smiled at least he had his sense of
humor. “No your smile will be as engrossing as always for the young
ladies.” He paused for a moment and then added, “Once all the bruises and
swelling go away.”
Buck watched as Ezra slightly nodded his
head, his half open eyes started to flutter closed he fought it for a while and
muttered, “Why?”
“We don't know but don't worry we'll find
out.” J.D. stated with the brashness of a young man.
Again Ezra merely, almost imperceptibly, nodded.
His eyes blinked closed he struggled to open them but eventually he lost
and slipped back to sleep.
J.D. looked up worriedly to Buck, “He'll be
ok just needs to sleep.”
Seven thirty that morning Buck and J.D. ate
breakfast with Josiah and
“Sleeping.” Nate answered sitting down reaching for a
biscuit.
Josiah looked over at Buck, “He say anything when he came too?”
Buck yawned and stretched he had been awake
all night after breakfast he intended to catch some sleep himself. “No he
doesn't remember what happened.” Buck answered, “Oh and he wondered if
they knocked out any teeth.”
This got a chuckle from the group. Ezra
constantly worried about appearances. Image is everything, he had once
told J.D. .
“Did you guys find out anything?” J.D.
asked.
Larabee swallowed his egg and shook his head
no, “But we keep looking. Josiah you stay with him this morning just in
case. The rest of us spread out and start asking questions.” They
all nodded in agreement.
“When's Vin coming back?” Nathan asked
pushing back from the table.
Silence hung over the table until J.D. made
an innocent observation, “Ezra knew.” No one spoke for a moment all
action suspended.
“What was that?” Buck asked sitting
back down.
J.D. not understanding what was transpiring
took another bite of his biscuit and spoke with his mouth full, “yeah Ezra knew
where he was going because he asked Vin to bring
something, I don't know what, back from where ever it was he was going.”
J.D. took a swig of milk to wash his biscuit down and finally noticed the
questioning looks that crossed the table. “What? What did I say?”
He got ignored as Nathan openly asked the
question everyone was thinking, “Do you think that's what got Ezra beat up?”
Josiah ran his massive hand over his square
jaw, “Could be but why?”
Silence hung over the table, “Who would be
after Vin?” J.D. asked. This got everyone staring at him. “What?!” Buck shook his head,
the kid had a lot to learn.
Ezra did not feel any better when he woke up
this time. It took a while for his eyes to focus crisply on the wood
beamed ceiling. Eventually the room stopped spinning. He noticed
the kerosene lights were off but the room was bright with sunlight.
It was day. He smiled.
“Well at least you’re in a good mood.”
The voice shocked him and he jumped this
earned him searing pain that caused him to groan. When he opened his eyes
again he was surprised to see Josiah leaning over him laughing. “Not
funny dear sir.” Ezra said. He followed Josiah's movements with his
head, Josiah took a cold damp rag from a porcelain
washbasin, wrung it out and rested it on the gambler's bruised forehead.
“How long you been here?” His voice hoarse and tired
sounding.
“Since seven thirty or
eight?” Josiah chuckled
knowing full well what he was doing.
Ezra tried another tack, “What time is it
now?”
“A little after
Ezra felt a twinge of envy. He tried to
stretch but rewarded his trouble with burning pain. Another ache
suddenly came to the fore front. He attempted to sit up groaning as he wiggled onto his elbows.
“Whoa what are you doing?” Josiah asked
as he saw that the gambler was trying to get up.
“I have got to relieve myself, and
soon.” Ezra said with a touch of urgency to his faint southern
drawl.
“Oh ok.” Josiah hastily tried to haul him
up.
“Ow ow no wait wait.” Ezra gripped
the front of Josiah's shirt and slowly pulled himself up into a sitting
position. He shook with excursion, his arms trembling, and leaned
his head against his friend. “God that hurts.”
He breathed trying hard not to breathe hard.
“You ok?” Josiah asked all he could see was
the back of the gamblers neck and shoulders and even they were bruised.
“Yeah let’s go.” Pretty soon Ezra was
sitting hunched on the edge of the bed holding onto Josiah for support.
He brought his hand up to his face the world was spinning out of control, “Ohh, this is not good.” Standish whispered fighting
off a wave of nausea.
“You want to lay
back down?” Josiah asked
“God no, I made it this far.” He paused
for a moment. “Ok. Let’s go.” There was no gentle pain free way to get to
his bare feet. Josiah easily supported more than half of Ezra's
weight. The gambler's knees threatened to buckle, his stomach threatened
to empty itself violently.
“You hanging in
there?” The preacher smiled but Ezra could not see it because he had his
eyes closed and was leaning into the older man.
Just then Buck entered the room saw the two
men and laughed, “Oh excuse me if you two want to be alone I can come back
later.”
With his forehead buried in Josiah's chest Ezra
muttered out, “Oh shut up Buck.” Buck and Josiah laughed.
Buck and Josiah propped Ezra up in bed.
The quilt lay across his midsection. The tight bandages Nathan had tied
around his ribs hid the dark purplish bruises that graced his upper torso.
“You comfortable?” Buck asked handing him a glass of water.
“Yeah.” Ezra smiled half heartedly gingerly fingering
his swollen left eye. It still did not focus very well.
“Do you remember anything from last night?”
Josiah asked leaning against the wall, “and quit playing with your eye.”
Ezra tentatively pressed on the upper lid one
last time, “No I don't, the last thing I recall is..” he thought for a moment
then his face brightened, “playing black jack with that clown from
Missouri. He gave up a hundred dollars.”
Buck and Josiah looked at each other with
raised eye brows $100.00 not bad. “That was two nights ago. Do you
remember where Vin went?” Buck asked pushing
himself off the wall and sitting in the chair next to the bed.
Ezra watched him for a second confused and
then looked to Josiah finally he shook his head, that earned him an increase in
the ache in his head “No, should I?” Ezra felt so confused, he hurt
so bad.
“We think that's why you got beat on.
Someone's looking for Tanner and you’re the only one who knows where he
is.” Buck said leaning back in the chair.
“Really? Me? Why would I know where Mr. Tanner went off
too?” Ezra asked. He ran his hands tenderly over his injured eye.
God his head hurt. He tried to sigh but it triggered pain in his
ribs.
Josiah watched his friend quietly for a moment.
Funny thing about people they never quite do what you expect of them. Standish
held an allegiance to no one, he made it clear when he
first got roped into working with Larabee and the others. Josiah did not
hold it against the gambler it was Ezra's nature or so the preacher thought
until now. Standish took a serious beating for something or someone.
The sun had set in a brilliant array of
colors. It was cooling off again, winter
still held its grip on the night. The five men sat around an old wooden table
eating dinner in a corner of the saloon.
“Think we should bring Ezra up some
food?” J.D. asked between a bite of steak.
“Nah, Dotty was up there and left a tray said
he was sleeping.” Josiah answered slopping up gravy with a hunk of
bread.
“Anyone find out anything?” Larabee asked
gazing up from his plate. Everyone shook there head or muttered nah.
There was a creaking on the floor boards on
the balcony that grabbed Buck's attention. He looked up and spotted the
gambler walking unsteadily toward the stairs. “Well look who's up and moving around.” Buck indicated with his
chin.
Ezra had made it to the top of the broad
wooden stair case. He gripped the railing and stalled swaying back and
forth. He stood wearing only pants with the suspenders hanging down by
his legs and a white shirt left uncharacteristically untucked.
Standish hesitated, did he really want to go down those stairs, his legs shook
with excursion, but he was hungry. The tray of food they had left him had
cooled and crusted over. He wanted a decent meal. Gripping the hand
rail, oblivious to the noise and commotion of the saloon, he carefully
placed a barefoot down and started to descend the steps.
“Think someone ought to help him?” Buck asked
smiling. Standish normally a smooth sly mover now picked his way down the
steps like an old lady.
“No, he's either really hungry or this will
teach him a lesson or both,” Nathan remarked watching his limping
friend.
“Hey Ezra it's gonna be breakfast by the time
you get down here if you keep that pace up,” Buck taunted laughing.
Standish did not take his mind from his task
but smiled half heartedly, he would get even with
Wilmington. Finally he reached the table to a soft round of applause,
“Thank you, you're all so kind.” The gambler gently eased himself into a chair, the loss of color in his face gave
clear indication that his ribs protested.
Larabee smiled as the group joked and kidded
the gambler, but his thoughts quickly turned inward as they often did.
What if Standish did give up Tanner , if in fact
it was the bounty hunter they were after, maybe that's why Ezra was not killed;
what if it was someone who was just upset at being beaten at cards or one of
Ezra's many victims of his cons. Larabee watched Standish, the gambler smiled
easily, was a good friend and good in a pinch.
The saloon was quickly filling with regular
and new patrons. The group sat talking over dirty dinner plates and half drunk mugs of beer. Ezra had barely touched his food
merely pushing it around his plate and his draft sat untouched on the table.
His stomach really was not ready for a full meal.
“Ezra you gonna eat those potatoes?”
J.D. asked.
The gambler faced the younger man who sat
with his back to the saloon door. The door opened letting in a swirl of
cold air and kicking up a small pool of dust, behind it entered an older
man. He caught Standish's attention. The man was well built, no
stranger to hard work, but wore decidedly city clothes,
he stood a half head taller than the gambler more Josiah's height. He
confidently made his way over to the bar. Ezra never took his eyes off
the slightly graying gentleman, he knew that face from somewhere, but could not
quite place it.
“Ezra the potatoes?” J.D. persisted.
The gambler absently slid the plate to the
younger man and slowly climbed to his feet, never glancing away from the
stranger at the bar.
“Ezra you see something?” Buck
asked.
Standish's right hand quietly and
automatically slipped to where his holster and gun should have sat next to his
hip. It closed on empty air. Ezra watched the man his heart racing
and he began sweating. The gentleman at the bar unaware that he was under
scrutiny spoke loudly to the barkeep, “I grow tired of waiting. I want
service, now.”
With that Ezra's expression changed. The
questionable look had suddenly disappeared like a door slamming down and anger
took its place. Larabee saw it. A gun had somehow materialized in
Ezra's hand. He tried to raise his arm but the broken ribs easily
prevented him from bringing his gun hand up to shoulder level.
Josiah quickly stood up beside his friend and
quickly realized it was his gun Ezra held.
Buck and Nathan stood also, “Don't do
anything rash Ezra,” Wilmington said half in jest, there was murder in the
gamblers expression.
Standish ignored them and stepped around the
table never removing his gaze from his quarry. Just then the saloon doors
opened in stepped Vin Tanner. He spotted his group of friends before any
of them saw him and casually made his way over to them. The gentleman at
the bar turned and recognized Vin.
“Get down Tanner!” Ezra spoke
sharply. Standish tried to bring the gun up a second time but his muscles
would not respond. The well dressed man at the bar drew his gun and aimed
it first at Vin, who hit the floor in a short but
spectacular dive, without that target he confidently switched his attention and
gun to Ezra.
“Well, well Mr. Standish you told me you did
not know a Mr. Vincent Tanner, it seemed you lied.” The man smiled
stepping away from the bar keeping his back to the wall making his way
discreetly toward the door.
“You
didn't say please.” Standish took a few steps forward following his
adversary, the gun still held at his side.
“But I did and you persisted on having smart
comments you were not much help but were good practice for my left jab.”
The man smiled.
“I'm sure but my memory of the other night
isn't very clear.” Ezra stood between Vin and
the potential assassin. The other five had drawn their own guns, except
Josiah, the saloon had fallen deathly silent with half its patrons on the floor
and others huddling over tables.
“There is no way out of here Mr...?” Larabee said with quiet confidence of a man
who does not get ruffled easily. “Hilock, Jeff
Hilock.” Mr. Hilock
answered tipping his hand to his forehead as if he had a hat on. “And oh
yes there is, you see if you don't I’ll just shoot Mr. Standish here.”
“What is it with you?” Ezra said exasperated,
“Why me? Mr. Tanner what have you done to this man that has made these
last few days so uncomfortable for me?”
Vin, now laying on his back, slid his mare's leg
from its holster, “brought his brother in for murder and he was hung for it.”
“Hilock just put
your gun down and walk out of here, you're not wanted
for anything you could leave this whole mess behind.” Buck said smiling
in his easy manner.
“He hasn't done anything? Have you lost
all your good sense, he nearly killed me... I think.” Ezra
stammered.
“Tanner is going to pay and I’ll shoot Mr.
Standish here if I have too.”
“Me? Leave me out of it?” Ezra spoke
over his shoulder to Vin, “If he shoots me you'll
never be able to make this up to me.”
What happened that caused Mr. Hilock to decide to fire, no one knows, but suddenly
his body position shifted the tension in his arm changed and he squeezed the
trigger. Vin in the same moment grabbed the
unsteady gambler by the suspender strap and hurled him out of the way, as the
room erupted in gunfire. Mr. Hilock crumbled to
the saloon floor, his life ending in a sudden barrage of bullets.
Tanner slowly climbed to his feet with the aid of Josiah, “You ok Vin?”
“Yeah.” Tanner turned his attention to Ezra who lay
curled on the floor, next to an over turned table, fighting for breath but
trying not to breath to deeply. “Hey, Ezra, you all right?” Vin
knelt beside his friend trying to read Ezra's pale sweating face. “Go
away Mr. Tanner.” It was said between clenched teeth. Vin stared up
at Josiah, the hulking preacher wrinkled up his face and shook his head,
“Don't pay any attention to him, he's not been himself
since yesterday.” Josiah turned his attention to the gambler, “O.k.
Ezra lets get you back on your feet and upstairs.”
“No I'm comfortable here.” Ezra spoke softly, his ribs burned so bad it hurt to talk.
“I'm sure you are but come on you can't stay
here on the floor all night.” As Josiah and Vin
eased him into a chair he cried out in pain, taking a decidedly forceful grip
on the preachers upper arm. It hurt to bend over and he could not sit
up. He felt nauseous. “OK on your feet.” Together Vin and Josiah hauled him to his feet. His legs
refused to support his weight and the room spun, “I'm going to be sick.”
He no sooner got the words out that his stomach heaved spewing undigested food
down the front of himself, Ezra's eyes rolled back in his head and he
thankfully passed out. Once again Josiah carried him up stairs and
together he and Vin cleaned the gambler up and put him
to bed.
Ezra woke to the sound of snoring. Once
he focused his eyes on the surrounding room he slowly realized that he still
slept in the room above the saloon. He tenderly felt his eye it still
ached but it did not burn near as much as it did ... he was not sure what day
it was, the sun shone brilliantly in the small room and the kerosene lights had
been turned off. It was day, the last thing he clearly remembered was the
saloon , Vin and gun fire.
“What is going on?” he asked himself quietly
not expecting an answer. He got one, “You o.k.?” kind
of.
Standish rolled his head in the direction of
the voice realizing someone else was still snoring. Larabee smiled down
at him. The gambler blinked and his stomach growled, “Who's
snoring?” He licked his lips trying to work moisture back into his
mouth.
Ezra swallowed the dry tissue in his mouth
greedily soaked up most of the fluid.
“Last night?” Standish asked. He
rolled his head over to the other side of the room and noticed the tracker sleeping
in a chair with a wool blanket across his legs and his feet propped up on the
foot of the bed.
“Two nights ago.” Larabee corrected. He sat down in a
rocking chair beside the bed. He chuckled when he saw Ezra's surprised
look. So much for his poker expressions.
Standish held up two fingers and whispered , “Two? Are you sure?” He wrinkled his brow
the best he could which was not very much at all.
“Yeah you had a rough couple of nights and
the day didn't go much better.” Ezra stared at him questionably.
“Nathan had to set 2 ribs and you couldn't keep anything down.” Larabee
stated watching Ezra's expression. “Things leveled out for you
early this am.”
Just then the door burst open and Buck in his
normal flurry of activity busted in. “Hey how's he doing?” he asked
Buck noticed Ezra was staring at him with a
confused expression, “You don't remember any of it.” He paused, Ezra was
about to shake his head no when Buck cut him short, “Just as well every time we
had to clean you up or rewrap your ribs you fought quite a bit.”
Wilmington chuckled when he noticed Ezra's confused and partially embarrassed
look.
“Don't listen to him Ezra he's just sore because
you split his lip the other night.” Josiah butted in in
his soft baritone voice as he slid into the room. He wiggled past
Tanner jumped awake rubbing his eyes and face
tiredly, “Hey he awake, he ok?” the tracker climbed to his feet stretching his
arms over his head and arching his back.
“He still looks like he got hit by a train,
but at least he's in his right mind...I think.” Buck said laughing
knowing that he was making Ezra feel uneasy.
Tanner smiled and stepped to the opposite
side of the bed, “You feelin’ ok?”
Vin felt responsible for what had happened.
Ezra knew it and tried to reassure him, his head throbbed, his ribs burned, and
his stomach ached so bad he was not sure if he was hungry or going to be sick, he
had not felt this bad in a very long time. “I'm ok.” A crooked smile
crossed his bruised face, he felt terrible. Tanner chuckled Ezra might
have the best poker face in the territories but this morning he couldn't
hide the lie. Vin
let it slide, Josiah had been right, the gambler blamed no one.
“Hey you hungry?” Buck asked, trying to break the ice. Ezra
thought for a moment, “I think so.”
“Be right back.”
As he headed out the door
Fifteen minutes later Buck bound up the steps
two at a time, Nathan and J.D. followed behind.
“What's going on?” J.D. asked shifting
the weight of the near empty tray.
“He's sleeping.” Josiah said
softly. “That's good he needs his rest, J.D. just leave the food in
there.”
The younger man complied silently, slipping
in and out of the room, gently closing the door again behind himself as he
left. “He's breathing alot easier
.” J.D said as the group headed down the stairs.
“That's real good to hear, I don't think
we'll have to worry about keeping him off his feet for the next few days, he's
as weak as a newborn, but we have to make sure he doesn't over do it when he
starts feeling better.” Nate said as they took seats around a breakfast
table.
Larabee merely nodded, “easy enough.”
Nathan proved correct about his assessment of
Standish's condition. Ezra slept most of the next two days waking only to
eat and relieve himself, both activities required
help.
Wilmington decided on the third day that the
gambler had to be feeling better when he found Ezra searching the room on shaky
legs for a deck of cards. “Nathan said you're supposed to stay in
bed.” Buck entered the room leaving the door slightly ajar. He sat
in the rocker propping his feet up on the unmade bed. He watched the
gambler, who wore only pants with suspenders undone, pick carefully through the
room.
Ezra, unable to bend over or raise his arms
above his midsection, was forced to restrict his search to the night stand and
window sills. “I don't care what Nathan says. I cannot remain
cooped up in here any longer.” He picked up folded shirt, having failed
at finding cards he dropped it back down in tired anger and frustration, “Where
in this God forsaken place can I find a deck of cards?” He threw a sidelong
glance at the gunman.
Buck smiled,
reaching inside his coat pocket he miraculously produced a poker deck.
“You are an angel my kind sir.” Ezra said
tentatively crossing the floor and reaching for the deck.
“Ehhehh,” Wilmington said smiling wickedly, holding the deck up
just out of the gambler's shaky reach. It was like keeping a man dying of
thirst from a glass of water. “First, get back where you belong,” Standish
hesitated thinking about arguing.
“No...Ok. But leave the cards.” Ezra offered
as a solution.
“Nope, I go the cards go.” Buck countered in
mock seriousness.
Standish thought quickly, “Ok, one game If I
win I can keep the cards and you leave but tell Nathan nothing, If you win I
stay in that that god forsaken bed another day without argument.”
Wilmington considered it. He had never
really beaten Standish in a game of poker, unless it was prearranged.
Buck figured with Ezra still recovering from his injuries and not quite as
sharp as he usually is, he Buck would have a chance at winning. “It's a
bet.”
With-in ten minutes Wilmington closed the
door to the room, leaving Ezra and the deck of cards, and headed down the
stairs to the main saloon. Ezra would have laughed if it didn't hurt so
much.
“Well good afternoon Mr. Standish, I didn't
expect to see you up and about so soon? How are you feeling?” Mrs.
Travis asked.
Ezra smiled his best smile, it was a good
day, the warm afternoon sun shone down brilliantly highlighting her long blonde
hair, best of all he beat Buck and won his own freedom. “Just fine Mrs.
Travis, Just fine.”
She smiled, Mary had had serious reservations
about the gambler, he was a con man always looking for an angle that would
benefit himself. She had begun to change her
opinion when Standish had joined a search to help find her young son and then
put himself in danger to protect her boy from harm. All seven had
participated but no one forced him to do it. How could she doubt the
integrity of a man who helped protect her only child.
As she walked past him on the board walk she noticed he stood barefoot.
“Hello Mary.”
Mrs. Travis turned and smiled at
Nate glanced over at
Mrs. Travis turned and faced the two
men. “Well Ezra he looks pretty good considering what he's been through.”
“Thank you ma'am.” Nate said slowly afraid to ask a delicate
question, “When did you see Ezra?”
“Just now outside the saloon,” at this both
men stared at one another, “I would suggest that he put on some foot ware, it's
not quite warm enough for bare feet.” Mrs. Travis added as both men hurried out
the door.