Just Deserts - the second half
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Part 15:

"JD!"  Buck shouted.  "Ezra!"  He and Vin peered through the window.  JD fought to get out from under a heavy curtain. It churned and swore like a mad ghost.  Nothing else moved.  They sprinted around the building and in through the front door, hot on the heels of the Chris, Josiah and Nathan.

Nathan was the first to reach Ezra, pulling back the coat tree, frilly dresses and the silk hats that had fallen on him.  Ezra moved feebly as the clothing was removed.  "It's alright, Ezra, we got you," the healer murmured, pressing against Ezra's neck to catch his pulse.

Ezra fought to keep his eyes open, struggling with the cuffs.  He coughed and moaned as he attempted to roll onto his knees and get up, but he was still snagged on Bakkus' boot and his motions were useless.

"Calm down, son," Josiah spoke soothingly, placing a restraining hand on Ezra's side.  "It'll be just fine.  Lay still now."   And Ezra stopped his attempts to move.

The other men brought their guns to bear on man they knew as Tyrone Brown.  Only his lower half was visible, still partially outside the cell.  His head was covered with the fallen boxes.

"JD," Ezra whispered, closing his eyes.

"I'm fine!"  JD declared, fighting to free himself from the curtains that had descended on him.  He tried to get loose of it, but half a dozen boxes had entrapped the edges of the drapery, holding him tight.  "Just get me the hell out of here!"

Chris kicked at the sole of Tyrone's boot, to free Ezra from it.  Ezra jerked his foot away, but there was no response from the man who lay halfway in the cell. 

"Get up," Buck growled, flinging away the boxes that had fallen over him.  He stopped short and stared.

"Ah, Nate," Vin called quietly.  "You wanna look at this?"

Nathan was still hunched over Ezra, rubbing his shoulder and trying to calm him down.  Ezra was shaking and his breathing was coming in hitching gasps.  "Do I need to?"  Nathan asked, glaring at the feet of Tyrone Bakkus.  "Rather stay with Ezra."

Chris replied fiercely, "Don't you move from where you are.  Ain't no reason to.  Anyone could tell that this man is dead."

Buck and Vin stepped over the body, not giving him a second glance, and started moving the objects that would free Dunne.  Buck offered a hand when JD was able to stand.  Once he was on his feet, JD dove toward the body near him, his eyes filled with murderous intent, but he stopped when he got a good look at Bakkus.  He straightened, steadying himself against a crate as he stared at the gory mess of what remained of the man's head.

There wasn't much left.  A marble bookend had smashed open Tyrone Bakkus' skull like a melon.

"Never thought I'd see the like of it," Vin said, laying a hand on JD's shoulder.  "Best not look on it too long."

JD swallowed and nodded tightly as he stepped over the man who had held them captive.  All in all, he didn't give a damn about him.  He had someone else to be worried about.

"Ezra -- is he okay?"  JD asked, squatting down beside the healer.  His gaze fell on the southerner, who lay on his side, pale and panting.

"You got the keys?"  Jackson asked.

JD nodded, and quickly pulled the ring from his pockets, undoing the handcuffs that held Ezra's hands at his back.

“Thank you,” Standish voiced as the metal restraints were removed.  Nathan and Josiah carefully moved Ezra arms forward and gently allowed him to lie on his back.  He seemed to breathe a little easier once he was settled. Josiah massaged his arms gently, trying to get the circulation back, careful of the bruised wrists.

"Get my stuff for me, would you, Vin?" Nathan asked, not looking up but knowing that the tracker instantly departed. 

Ezra muttered something that the others couldn’t understand and he fought to open his eyes. 

"Ezra, can you hear me?"  Nathan asked. 

"Yes," was the soft reply.

“I’m gonna help you, so just hang on, okay?”  Nathan saw Ezra’s minimal nod, and then carefully opened his waistcoat and shirt, revealing a chest all mottled in black and blue.  Jackson sucked in his breath at the sight.  "He kick you?"

"Don't remember.  Back hurts."

"I'll look at it.  First, I'm gonna check your ribs here. It'll probably be real painful."

"All right."

Nathan felt along the gambler's sides.  Ezra gasped and raised a hand as if to push Nathan away -- but checked himself, and only clenched the hand in the air.

JD grabbed the grasping hand and held it against his chest.  "It's okay, Ez.  Just wait, it'll be over soon." 

Larabee watched in a silent rage, glancing to the body with the crushed head.  He wished that the man was still alive -- just so he could kill Bakkus himself.  Josiah still crouched beside the gambler, continuing to rub his arms, as if the contact might offer some assurance.  Buck stood beside Chris, flanking him, and providing what protection he could to their wounded member.

"I'm gonna need to wrap these up, Ez.  What happened to your back?"

"Bars…"

“What about the bars?”

“Met them…”

"Must'a been some meeting," Buck said, trying to interject some light into the situation, but feeling his words fall flat.

Ezra muttered and tried to rock away as Nathan rolled him on his side and felt along his bruised back.  Josiah helped steady him.  Nathan pressed against one of the bruised areas, trying to ascertain the extent of the injury.

"Stop, please…" Ezra clenched his eyes shut and JD gasped as Ezra's grip tightened.  “Please…”

"Nathan," JD shouted. With his free hand, he grabbed hold of Nathan's arm, watching Ezra's eyelids flutter.  "He said to stop!"|

"It's gotta be done," Buck said, not sounding convinced.

"No, it ain't," JD replied, clenching Ezra's hand tighter.  "Just let him be."

Nathan nodded and removed his hands.  He and Josiah eased Ezra onto his back again.  "Sorry, Ezra.  I really am," Nathan apologized.  "We'll get 'em strapped up and you'll feel a whole lot better.  Be lot easier to breathe, too."

"Please," Ezra wheezed.  "Soon?"

"Soon as Vin comes back," Nathan replied, secretly dreading it because he knew the process would be painful as the examination.   "You got a bad knock on the head," Nathan said, noting the condition of Ezra's face, the blood.

"Ah know."

Nathan sighed, feeling along Ezra's skull.  "Aw, hell," he pulled back his hand when he felt the lump and came into contact with the blood at the back of the head.  "Damn it!"

"Sorry," Ezra muttered.

"Shut up, Ezra," Chris interjected.  "He wasn't talking to you."

Vin burst back into the jail with Nathan's bag and an armload of cloth that Nathan had cut into strips for bandages.  "He's gonna be okay, ain't he?" the tracker asked, setting down the items.

"He'll be fine," Nathan declared, but the worry was evident in his voice.  If Ezra were stronger, this might be easier, but he'd been so damn sick.   Jackson had felt those bones so distinctly!  "I'm gonna strap your ribs now, Ezra.  Like I said, it'll make it a lot easier to breathe."

"Okay," Ezra said softly.

"Let me know if you start feeling like you're gonna get sick.  We got the waste pail here, so if you give us a warning…"

"No," Ezra murmured.

"No?"

"Not gonna be sick.  Tired of bein' sick."  Ezra's voice was becoming slurred.

"Now, Ezra, you got yourself a concussion," Nathan explained.  "Throwin' up just comes with that."

"Not gonna be sick again."  Ezra opened his eyes finally and stared glassily back at the healer.  His uneven pupils further emphasizing his current state.  "Won’t be sick."

Nathan nodded compliantly.  "Okay, then," he said.  "Let's sit you up.  I'll have Buck grab that waste pail just in case."

“Tired,” Ezra murmured as they moved around, getting ready.

“I need you to stay awake.” Nathan said sternly. “I don’t like the look of that bump on your head.  It's better if you stay awake for a while.  Can you do that?”

“Try,” Ezra said softly, but it was obvious that he was slipping away, his eyes were half closed again, and JD could feel his grip relaxing.

“Just hang onto me, okay, Ezra?” JD pleaded.  “I'll be here.  Just keep a hold here, and you’ll be okay.  You can grip as tight as you like.”  The last statement was a sacrifice on Dunne's part for he knew how fierce Standish's grasp could be.

Ezra blinked lethargically and increased his hold on JD’s hand as Josiah and Buck sat him up.  JD watched Ezra's pale face take on an almost grayish tone.  Standish gasped once and then the hand went lax in JD’s grip.

“Ez?  Come on, Ez," JD patted the hand and looked to Ezra’s face.  The gambler opened his eyes and seemed to search about for a moment.  He sighed, closed his eyes.


Part 16:

“Nate?” Vin said, leaning forward.  “Nate?  His eyes are open.”  Tanner rested one hand on the bed and brought his face close to the inhabitant’s.  “Hey there, Ez,” he said quietly, resting his chin on his hand.  “Sure is good to see wakin'.”

Tanner had been here for hours already, waiting as Ezra continued to sleep.  Hell, it had been a full day since Ezra had last opened his eyes.  Finally!  Vin thought.

The eyes blinked dully and looked beyond him.

“Come on, Ez,” Vin coaxed.  “You can do more than that.  Let’s hear some of those big words of yours.”

And still the eyes just blinked and stared sightlessly.

Vin felt his heart sink.

Nathan had moved behind Vin, to watch the interplay.  Tanner turned a gaze on him and said, “He’s awake but he ain’t sayin’ nothin.”  Tanner waved one hand before Ezra’s eyes and was disappointed by the sluggish response from the otherwise quick-reflexed con man.  “Hey, Ez, you in there?”

“Ezra?”  Nathan called sharply.  He snapped his fingers in front of Ezra’s eyes and frowned.  “He’s not really awake, Vin.”  No, he was hardly conscious.

Vin gently shook Ezra’s shoulder, but there was no reaction.

"Damn," Tanner sighed.

“Let’s see if we can’t get him to sit up to drink somethin’,” Nathan declared.  “We gotta get some of this soup into him.”  No doubt about that, Jackson thought, we need to get him to eat something.  After the past two weeks, he needs this  like he needs a hole in the head.  It probably took all the strength he could muster to wake this much.

Between the two of them, they were able to sit Standish upright.  Ezra’s breath quickened as he was moved, but he didn’t seem to awaken any further.  Nathan was about to shove pillows behind Standish’s back to keep him sitting upright against the headboard, but Vin climbed into that space and supported Ezra against his chest, gently wrapping his arms around him.

Nathan nodded. That would work.

Jackson poured out some water and brought the glass to his patient, disappointed to see that Ezra's eyes didn't focus on the glass.  “Hold his head for me, will ya, Vin?” Nathan asked, tipping back the cup.  “Watch out for those bandages.”

Vin didn’t need to be told.  He carefully gripped Ezra’s head, laying it against his own shoulder, well aware of the bruises and cuts beneath those white strips.

Jackson was encouraged when Ezra swallowed the water that was poured into his mouth.  “Jus’ gotta be careful he don’t choke,” he said unnecessarily.  Yes, they'd both be careful.

"Must be thirsty," Vin commented as Ezra continued the swallow the water given to him.  "Mighty thirsty."

"Probably what woke him up," Nathan responded.  After giving Ezra the water, he then went to the wood stove, to get the broth that was had been waiting.  He was only able to give Ezra about half a mug of the beef broth before Ezra would accept no more.  Standish stopped swallowing and the soup simply spilled down his chin.

"Aw, Ez," Vin murmured.  "You can do better than that."

"Better stop," Nathan solemnly stated as he daubed up the water and soup that had dribbled down Ezra’s face, careful to keep him tidy.

Ezra continued to stare vacantly before him, blinking from time to time, completely unaware of Nathan and Vin.  Whiskers were beginning to grow on his pale face, only adding to how strange he looked.

“We can set him down now, Vin,” Nathan said to the tracker, who still was performing the task of a backrest.

Tanner said nothing immediately and made no move to relinquish his seat.  He gazed at Ezra's passive face -- staring emotionlessly at some unfocused point.  Again, the tracker moved a hand before the gambler's face.  Come on, Ez, Tanner thought, just tell me to knock it off. Let me know how much this annoys you. Can't be very gentlemanly of me.  It's time you let me know. 

Finally, getting no response Tanner voiced, “God, Nate.   Good God Almighty, he can’t stay this way, can he?  He ain’t gonna stay this way?”

“I don’t know, Vin.”  Nathan replied.  “He’s in pretty bad shape.”  He stood before Standish, but Ezra's eyes didn't seem to find him.

“It ain’t right.  It’d kill him to know he was like this.”

“I don’t know if he’ll remember this when he wakes up all the way -- if he wakes up.”

"He'll wake up…" Vin said determinedly.   "He's gotta."

"I don't know, Vin."

Vin eyed the mug that Nathan set beside the stove.  “That weren’t enough was it?”

“Not nearly,” Nathan sighed.  “Honestly, Vin, if this keeps up, he just ain’t gonna make it.  We just can't get him to eat enough to keep him alive.  Not after these past couple weeks.  He's just got nothin' left.”  He met the tracker’s eyes, and almost wished he had lied.

Vin Tanner was a hardened bounty hunter.  He had seen the worst that humanity had to offer, had ridden with the dregs of society as he hauled them in to justice.  He could hit a target at astounding distances.  Had killed… often.  He had lived with savages.  Tanner was a man with a price on his head, had been on his own most of his life and had learned the lessons that this difficult existence taught.

But, as Nathan watched the tracker, he remembered how young Vin was, just a few years older than JD, just a few years younger than Ezra.  You could see that youth in Vin’s eyes in moments like this.  Tanner was just a kid, too, in fear of losing a brother.

And Ezra -- that troublesome, enigmatic, morally-challenged con artist -- looked like a lost child.

Hell, Nathan thought.  I'm just a little older than Ezra.  How the hell did I get so old? I'm so damn old.

Nathan ran a tired hand across his brow.  My God, he thought, if I hadn't poisoned him in the first place, if I hadn't nearly killed him, he would have a chance to fight this.  There's nothing left though -- he's got no strength left.  He'll die because he trusted me.  This cagey con man who trusts no one -- trusted me.  What have I done?

"Nate?"  Vin called softly, seeing the stricken look on Jackson's face. 

Nathan shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

"Ain't your fault, Nate.  You done the best you could for him," Vin said.  "He's got a stubborn streak a mile wide and he'll make it through this."  The tracker paused, watching Jackson's face.  "Won't he?" he added.

The healer only gazed back at Tanner, well aware that the perceptive man could read him like a book.  Both men said nothing for a long minute.  Finally, Nathan sighed.  “Let’s get him more comfortable, Vin.  He’d be better off layin’ back on those pillows.  We'll try to get him to take some more soup later.”

Vin nodded absently and waited for Nathan’s help.

Ezra continued to stare before him, blinking occasionally but seeing nothing.


Part 17:

“How are you doin’, Brother?”  Josiah asked as he entered the clinic.

“Right fine,” Buck replied with his usual grin.  “There’s one thing that’d make it better and that would be for this sorry cuss to actually talk to us.”  He nodded to the form in the bed. Ezra continued to stare listlessly at the ceiling.

Buck frowned.  “Make me feel a damn sight better, that’s for sure.  I'm gettin' tired of just seein' him lookin' out like that.” It was disconcerting to Wilmington to see the sharp-witted gambler so vacant.  He was used to seeing those eyes rich with intelligence, wit and cunning, and sometimes even a subtle kindness and understanding that seemed to embarrass the gambler.  This emptiness gave Wilmington the heebie-jeebies.

Three days had passed since Bakkus had attacked him, and Ezra still did not fully awaken.  He seemed lost in some world between waking and sleep.  He slumbered mostly, but from time to time he'd open his eyes and become responsive enough to take in some nourishment.  Yet, he remained oblivious to all that was around him and only responded vaguely to the obvious pain that he was in.  Nathan kept a rich beef broth available and milk as well.  Jackson was determined to do anything to give Ezra the energy he needed to keep going.

“He come ‘round at all?”  Josiah asked, taking his seat.  "Has he moved?" 

“Not a stir from him,” Buck replied glumly.  Wilmington gently lay a hand on Ezra’s arm and sighed, troubled again by the lack of response.  Nathan had changed the bandages around his head earlier that day.  The gash across his forehead was healing nicely.

"How long has he been like this?" Josiah asked, knowing that Ezra had spent most of his time asleep.

"Not so long," Buck said with a nod.  "Nate and I got him to take a bit of soup."

Josiah rested his arms across his lap, letting his hands hang loosely at his wrists.  It hurt him to see Standish like this.  Dear Lord, wasn't it enough that he risked his life for his brothers?  Wasn't it enough that he suffered through that illness?  Wasn't it enough for him to have survived the attack of that madman?  Why did this have to happen now?  Why won't he wake? The Lord certainly worked in mysterious ways.

Buck turned to Josiah and declared, "If Bakkus weren't already dead, I swear, I'd kill 'im.  Hunt down the bastard and put a dozen holes in him."

Green eyes blinked and continued to stare.


"It's in the hands of the Lord now," Josiah said with a sigh.  "And I got a powerful feelin' that Ezra is just resting up.  He does like to sleep you know.  When he's ready, he'll be with us again."

"Can't recall him sleepin' so long b'fore.  Guess I won't be able to fault him for sleepin' in an extra hour from now on."

"He'll be waking soon," Josiah said confidently.

“Damn well better, or I'll have to kick his sorry ass out of that bed.  Won't put up with this lolly-gaggin' for much longer."  Buck waiting, hoping that maybe the words were heard, but Ezra continued to breathe slowly and deeply, looking off into nothingness.

"I don’t know which is worse," Buck murmured.   "When we were seein’ him so sick but bein' able to talk and act normal enough, or to see him like this where he don’t seem to be feelin' too much but…he don’t seem to know anythin’ either.”

"It's a poor choice no matter how you look at it," Josiah responded.

"Amen to that."  Buck kept his hand on Ezra's arm, squeezing it gently.  "Come on, Ez," he said softly.  "You gotta come out of this.  We ain't had that lunch date yet and yer holdin' up my schedule.  All the girls are clamorin' for their turn.  You've put a powerful crimp in my style."   He continued his pressure until he thought he felt a muscle flex beneath him.

He watched as Ezra's face twitched.  The eyes closed and then lids fluttered.

"Come on, Ez.  Talk to your buddy Buck."

Ezra scrunched up his face and drew in a breath. "Buck?" Ezra quietly called.

"Hey, Ezra," Buck responded.  "Come on, open them eyes back up."

"Buck?" Ezra called again, softly and opened his eyes.  He looked confused as he gazed toward Wilmington.

"Hey, pard!"  Buck called happily, grinning widely. "That's right; it's me."

The confusion seemed to deepen.  "Buck?"

"Yeah, ya sorry son of a gun. You got that figured out.  What else you have to say?"

But Ezra didn't seem to understand what was going on.  He glanced around in some alarm.  "Why're you in Topeka?"

"Topeka?"  Buck returned, concern in his voice.  "We ain't…" 

"No…" Ezra murmured, drawing away as much as he could.

"Calm down, Ezra.  It's all right," Josiah rumbled as he moved to the bed.  "You're gonna be okay, son."

Josiah's words seemed to calm the gamester somewhat.  Ezra moved his addled gaze to take in Josiah and blinked at him as if trying to see him clearly.  He looked discontent and moved his gaze about the room.  "Mother?"  he called softly.

Josiah sighed.  "Maude isn't here, Ezra."

"Oh."  The disappointment was evident in his voice and his crestfallen expression.

"Now, Ezra," Buck cut in, "I'm gonna get Nate in a bit, but first we're gonna try to get you to eat a little first.  Yer gettin' as skinny as an alley cat now and we don't want to see ya disappear on us."

Ezra just blinked back at them.  "Didn't really think…" he said, trailing off as the blinking became slower and he closed his eyes again.

"Ezra?"  Buck shook the arm that he still grasped.  "Come on, hoss, don't do this.  Don't do this to me."  He tried to awaken Standish for several minutes, but he seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep again.

Josiah sighed.  He returned to his seat and rested his huge hands in his lap, watching as Buck spoke to the unresponsive gambler.  Finally, the preacher said, "It was a good sign.  He knew who you were."

Buck grimaced.  "Didn't know where the hell he was though and didn't seem to know you.  Damn it!"  He stood quickly and crossed to the window.  "God, I hate this."

Josiah said nothing, silently watching Ezra's face.  Come back, son, he thought.  You've got to come back.


Part 18:

JD sat quietly in the clinic.  He was tired of it.  A little over a week ago, he had spent a lot of time here, reading and worrying and fretting as Ezra vomited his guts out and quietly cursed in a constant pain.

Now, he had spent part of four days here … again with Ezra.  He was tired of it.  He was tired of Ezra being hurt and sick, and tired of not being able to do anything about it. 

At least Ezra slept; and at least he wasn't staring anymore. That vacant glance had sent shivers up the young sheriff's spine.  It had seemed so totally out of place on the cardsharp's visage.

As Ezra had so firmly declared, he didn't get sick again.  Too damn stubborn, Chris had commented.  JD understood why.  For as tired as JD was of this, he knew that Ezra must be all the more wearied with it, just sick of being sick.

The liquid diet must have been doing some good.  At least it didn't come right back up again… but the meager food wouldn't be enough to keep the gambler going.  He was so damn thin now.

"I miss havin' you around, Ezra," JD muttered, kicking at the side of the bed absently.  "I don't like it this way.  I'd rather you would wake up and be okay."

"I just want this to be over…" JD muttered, continuing to kick at the board.  "I just keep goin' over it in my head and I KNOW that none of this would have happened if I weren't in the wrong place at the wrong time.  If I just stayed back when Chris told me to, you'd be fine."  He banged harder with his foot.

"And then… and then I go and leave you alone.  Hell, Ezra, I should 'ave known better.  I shouldn't have left in you in the jail like that -- left you to be attacked.  If I'd only stayed, you wouldn't have gotten hurt.  It's all my fault.  I just wish I could switch places with you is all."  He kicked agitatedly.

"Mr. Dunne," a voice quietly stated.  "If I agree with you, would you stop that infernal racket?"

JD glanced at his foot, oblivious that he had been making so much noise and then back to Ezra.  "Hey, Ez!" he cried.  "Ez!  You're okay!"

"Okay?"  Ezra grimaced.  "I'm alive if that suffices."

JD jumped to his feet.  "Hey!" he cried, seeing Ezra's eyes focus on him.  "You're really awake, ain't cha?  Not foolin' us again, huh?" 

Ezra winced. "Yes, and if you would lower your voice, my headache would be much more endurable." 

"Sorry, Ez," JD replied, not changing his volume; he was too happy.  "You sure had us scared.  Nate said you were sleepin' too long and was about ready to pitch a fit."

"Hmm," Ezra responded.  "Nathan?  A fit?"

"Hell, and Chris looked about ready to beat a hole in the wall any time someone mentioned Varness or Bakkus.  Didja know that man at the jail was named Bakkus?"

"No, I'm afraid he didn't introduce himself."  Ezra closed his eyes and tried to concentrate.  His head pounded mercilessly.

"Well, he's named Tyrone Bakkus and was the guy who financed Varness.  He was goin' around town saying his name was Brown, but I found out his real name and all about Varness because of some letters he was carrying."

"What became of him, this Bakkus?" Ezra asked, furrowing his brow.  "The last thing I recall is that he was about to wring your neck due to foolish comments made."

"You don't remember?  Ya tripped him and all that stuff came down on him and WHAM…he got crowned by a hunk of marble.  Josiah said that he got his just deserts, seein' as how he wanted that stuff so bad and was willin' to kill for it." 

"At least one man received what he deserved."  Ezra raised a hand to his forehead, pulling his hand away in surprise when he touched the bandage. "It was foolish of you to return, Mr. Dunne."

"Return where?" JD asked, confused.

"To the jail," Ezra said as he explored the wrapping.  "You were free of Mr. Bakkus. You should have continued on your way."

JD shook his head.  "I wasn't gonna leave ya, Ez.  You know that."

Ezra continued to scrutinize the damage with his hand as he spoke.  "In any case, I suppose we're even now.  No debt remains."

"Debt?"

With a smile, Ezra continued, "If you recall, I told you and Mr. Larabee that I was 'owed one' for freeing you from Mr. Varness and his men.  We're even now."

"No."  JD shook his head fiercely.  "No, we ain't."

Ezra looked crestfallen, his hand stopping and finally retreating to his side as he asked, "We're not?  But I thought I had...wasn't it enough?"

"There ain't no 'even' to worry about.  Any of us woulda gone back in.  Didn't matter who owed who.  Dammit, Ezra.  You don't understand. You just about got killed because of me when you went after Varness.  And, you did it on purpose!  You drank that poisonous stuff, and could 'ave died from it."

"It was a means to an ends."

"And I'm so tired of hearing that.  What the hell does that mean anyway?  I don't want anyone dyin' cause of me!"

"It was never my intention."

"Nate says that you told him that you had it figured that you wouldn't need to drink the cognac and he almost didn't bring an antidote.  Why did you do that?  You would'a died if he didn't think to bring it.  Ya would'a just died!  Why?"

"Yeah, Ezra."  A voice near the door asked, "Why?"

"Mr. Larabee." Ezra smiled, trying to sit up. "How pleasant of you to come calling," he gasped.

"Lay down, you idiot," Larabee growled as he quickly crossed the room.  "When'd he wake up?" he threw the question to JD.

"Just a few minutes ago," JD replied.  "You been here long?"

"Long enough."  Larabee regarded Ezra for a moment, as the southerner settled back -- somewhat painfully -- into the pillows.  "How're you doin'?"

Ezra smiled. "As well as could be expected after being run over by an ox."

Larabee waited until Ezra had become comfortable again.  Damn!  Finally!  It certainly was good to see him alert again.

Chris continued, "You gonna answer JD's question?  Why didn't you tell Nathan you were going to drink that cognac?"

Ezra sighed.  "Once I courted a lovely young lady named Adele." He rubbed his chin and seemed startled to find stubble beneath his fingers.

"Adele?"  Larabee asked. "Sounds French"

Ezra looked disgusted as he further explored his overgrown face.

"Ezra," Chris called, trying to get his attention.  "What about Adele?"

"I heard you, Mr. Larabee.  We are in the same room. It would be difficult to miss you."

"Ezra," Larabee grumbled.

"She was from a small town in the south of France.  She hardly spoke any English, and when she did, she had the most engaging accent."  Ezra said, smiling, his eyes growing soft with the memory.  "Beautiful, petite and strong enough to crack a man like a walnut with her thighs."  He laughed lightly.  "She was a trapeze artist."

"Trapeze?"  JD asked.  "Really?"

"An acrobat of the air," Ezra sighed, nestling further into the pillows.  "She was a bird, fairy light and nimble as the wind."

"Ho ho!" JD chuckled.  "Does Buck know about this?"

Ezra raised a tired eyebrow.  "Mr. Wilmington would be hopeless jealous if he were to know, and would demand sordid details that I am not at liberty to relate.  She was… should I say…incredibly flexible.  She could put herself into the most amazing positions."

"Ezra," Chris said with an amused air, "You're too sick a man to be thinkin' on such things and you haven't answered the question yet."

Ezra continued in the same soft and distracted voice,  "She performed at a circus back east and she flew without a net.  Her aerial acrobatics were extraordinary.  Her feats brought gasps of astonishment from crowded houses, and grown men fainted as she flew from one bar to the next."

Chris crossed his arms over his chest.  "What are you gettin' at, Ezra."

"There was a gentleman named Foss who owned the establishment and he let the performers ply their craft as they saw fit.  But old Foss died, and his son took his place."  Ezra closed his eyes. 

"Is there any point to this, Ezra?" Chris asked, watching the gambler in concern.  The act of talking seemed to be wearing him out.  He was speaking slower and his accent became more pronounced.

"Young Foss wanted to protect his performers and refused to allow the lovely Adele to perform without a net.  She complained bitterly, saying it would ruin her act, but Young Foss wouldn't relent and so Miss Adele conceded and performed from then on, with a safety net beneath her." 

"Sounds like a good idea, Ez," JD said. 

"So it would seem," Ezra murmured.  "But she lost her edge.  The net was always there to protect her and she learned that it was safe to miss the bar.  Miss Adele, who had never faltered, learned to fall."

"So," Chris put in.  "What your sayin' is, that you knew you had a net, so you allowed yourself to fall?"

Ezra smiled.  "You are very perceptive, Mr. Larabee.  If Mr. Jackson hadn't been nearby with the cure, I never would've put the glass to my lips. I would've found a way around it, as was my intention at the beginnin'.  But I had a weak moment as we prepared ourselves for the adventure, and conceded the fact to Mr. Jackson that an antidote might be a good idea.  When I confronted Mr. Varness, I knew that the net was available, so I made use of it.  If it weren't there, I wouldn't have needed it."

"Still, a fool thing to do." 

"Agreed," Ezra said and opened his eyes again.  "It was the knowledge of the net that was my downfall."

"Ain't the type of thing I want happening around here."  Larabee turned a glare on Standish.  "I ain't going to have anyone die because of me."

With a smile, Ezra continued.  "After all I've been through, Mr. Larabee, you can be quite assured that I'll never do such a thing again.  It's no good at all for my health."

Chris continued to stare at Ezra -- too damn thin and pale after all of this.   It still gnawed at the gunslinger that this arrogant gambler might have died to free him -- had taken the risk willingly.  What the hell did I do to deserve that? Larabee pondered.

JD chewed his lip and then asked after a moment, "So what happened to Adele?"

"She missed the bar one night.  She fell and the net failed her."  Ezra smiled sadly.  "Now she flies on another plane of existence."

Chris threw JD an angry glance and then looked back to Ezra. He seemed to be breathing with greater difficulty.  "Are you doin' okay? Need anything?"

Ezra pulled an arm around his chest and sighed

"Ezra," Chris said distinctly, hoping that Standish wasn't slipping away on them again.  "You need anything?"

Standish was silent for a moment, lost in an old memory.  Finally, he muttered, "I'm a bit hungry."

"Hungry?" Chris intoned, surprise in his voice.

"Really, Ez?  You're hungry?"  JD asked enthusiastically.  "Ain't heard that in a while.  We got some soup right here and some milk, too.

Ezra responded with a wistful expression.  "Yes, perhaps some of that, but I had a yearning for something else."

JD wasn't deterred.  "What d'you want then? Huh?"

Standish blinked, looking from JD's excited face to Chris' pleased expression.  Were they really that ecstatic about this?  JD was half-turned toward the door, ready to leave.

"Come on, Ez," JD said.  "We'll find whatever it is you want."

"Some pie would be nice," Ezra stated quietly.

"Pie?"  JD asked.

"I like pie," Ezra replied.

"Come on, JD.  We'll let him rest a bit and come on back," Chris said, noting that Ezra was about ready to fall asleep on them.  He headed to the door.  "Pie."

Ezra watched them go.  After the door shut, he closed his eyes and fell immediately asleep, smiling to himself.


Part 19:

Buck watched JD and Chris clamor down the stairs from the clinic.  They paused at the bottom, discussing something heatedly.  "Now what?" Buck said out loud.

"Hard to say," the preacher responded, narrowing his gaze on the two men.  "But it appears to be an argument of some sort."  They watched as the two men gestured and commented on something. 

"What's goin' on?" Nathan asked as he joined them.

Buck shrugged.  "Somethin's up and I aim to find out what it is."  He headed across the street to join the other two.  Yes, something had definitely happened, but by the looks of the two men -- it couldn't be too bad.  Both Dunne and Larabee were smiling.  They had just left the clinic, so Wilmington hoped for good news.  Please, he thought, let there be good news for a change.

He caught part of the conversation as he drew near.  "Definitely fruity!" JD declared.

Chris frowned and responded, "Nuts."

"Chris?" Buck questioned as he reached them.  "What's goin' on?"  Nathan and Josiah were close behind.

"Pie," Chris replied.

The three men looked perplexed.

"He woke up and said he wanted some pie," JD iterated.

"Damn!"  Buck exclaimed, slapping himself on the forehead.  "Why didn't we think of that before?  You know Ezra can't pass up a good pie.  Hell, even a half-decent one probably would'a done the trick."

"Pie?"  Nathan asked.

"Brother, I know that Inez makes the best peach cobbler in the territory," Josiah said with a grin.

"It's gotta be pie," JD reminded.  "He don't like cobblers."

"Don't care much for that Dutch Apple stuff either. He likes a good crust," Buck added.

"He likes the pecan," Chris commented.

"Now, now, now…" Nathan chided.  "You gotta go slow.  He ain't eaten anythin' heavier than milk for the past few days and not much substance before that.  If I can get him to east something light tonight, then maybe he can have some ..."

But already the men were dispersing.  Nathan sighed as he looked up and saw Vin standing nearby.  "You got more sense then the rest of 'em, don’t cha?"

Vin just grinned as he headed to Mrs. Potters.


Part 20:

"Wake up!"  Buck said, shaking Ezra's shoulder gently.

"Think we let him sleep long enough?" JD asked quietly.  "He was lookin' pretty wore out earlier." 

Nathan stood back, watching.  He'd been able to get Ezra to east a little bread and milk earlier that day, and had followed it later with a thick but rather bland stew that seemed to please the gambler.  Now that it was almost evening, it was time to try something else.

"Come on, Ez," Buck crooned.  "We let you sleep a piece, now you got to do somethin' for us.  Wakey-wakey."

Ezra opened his eyes in trepidation.  Six faces greeted him.  He winced at the intrusion.  They were all grinning like cats.  "Why are ya'll here?"  he asked tentatively. 

"You said you were hungry," Chris stated.

"I've eaten since we last spoke," Ezra commented, but was unable to deny the fact that his stomach was aching to be fed again.  "Are you all here to provide entertainment while I eat?"  Josiah and Nathan gently sat him up, shoving pillows behind his back to keep him in place.  Ezra did his best to remain quiet during the painful process, holding his breath and waiting for them to finish.

Once he was settled again, he looked at each of the six men.  Didn't they have anywhere better to be at this moment? "Who's minding the jail?" he asked.  "Certainly the goods must be…"

"Never you mind that," Buck stated.  "We got a couple of the fellers from town looking after things and that ain't none of your bother right now." 

"Yeah," JD continued.  "The only thing you gotta think about is what are you gonna eat first."

"Quite a decision, if I say so myself," Josiah added. 

Ezra looked perplexed.

"You said that you wanted pie," JD reminded. 

"Well, we couldn't come to an agreement on which one was best, so we had to bring 'em all," Buck stated and with a grand gesture pointed to the table covered with pastries.

Ezra's eyes opened wide.  "Mr. Dunne," he said turning to JD.  "I only meant…"

"I understand that you like the pecan they serve at the restaurant," Chris said with a nod.  "I convinced them to part with half of one.  Might have had the whole thing, but there were some cowboys that got to it before me."

"I got most of a cherry one from the Casey," JD said.  "Ah, actually Nettie made it, but Casey said that she picked the cherries and was right eager to hand it over to a good cause.  She ate a piece though… before she knew what we needed it for.  She thought I was just…" 

"I convinced Inez to make a peach pie," Josiah broke in.  "Her specialty is cobbler, but she said that her secret is in the sauce." 

"They're all full of hog-wash, Ez," Buck said, leaning on the bed.  "'Cause I got you the best apple pie you can find.  The lovely Lady Katy picked the apples herself, washed them lovingly, peeled 'em with her perty hands and…"

"Pumpkin," Vin said, interrupting Buck and pointing to the pie that he'd begged from Mrs. Potter. 

Ezra looked from one man to the other, his eyes wide in disbelief, until his gaze settled on Nathan.

The healer held his hands up and said, "Now, Ezra, you can't eat all this.  I can't let you have more than a slice right now.  You just ain't up to it. I know you've eaten a bit, but after fastin' for so long, it won't do your stomach any good to eat all this heavy stuff…" 

"He got a sweet-potato one," Buck said with a nod.  "Made it his own self." 

Nathan looked embarrassed.  "‘Least it's got some nutritional value."

"Gentlemen," Ezra finally managed to say, "I'm astounded."

"You shouldn't be," Chris said as he grabbed a plate from the table, cut a finger-narrow slice from the pecan, knowing that they'd best start slow.  He handed it to Ezra.

"Go easy," Nathan muttered as Ezra poised a fork over the pastry.

"But, of course," Ezra smiled as he drove the fork into the pie and cut away the point.  He rested the plate in his lap as he brought the first bite to his mouth.  He savored it for a long minute, not chewing, letting the tastes dissolve in his mouth.  God, it was good!  He had forgotten what it was like to taste something that was -- palatable.  He looked up to see concerned faces.  Finally, he swallowed the morsel.

"Delectable," he said.  He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Nathan, who was edging the bucket closer to the bed with the toe of his shoe.  "I assure you, Mr. Jackson, that I will not become ill on pie.  I will follow your instructions and eat only one small slice, but if I'm still feeling well after an hour," he waved the fork at the table, "I will make an adventure through pie-land and try another." 

His smile widened as he ate.  Damn, he was hungry!  He did his best to pace himself, heeding Nathan's advice. Nathan handed him a glass of milk.  The gambler sighed as he gazed at the white liquid, but drank it along with the pie.  He preferred coffee with his pie, but had to admit that the milk was damn tasty.  Perhaps Mr. Dunne wasn't quite so ridiculous with his favorite drink.

"Well," JD declared.  "You'd better start eatin' decent, 'cause we got a big job ahead of us.  We still have all that stuff to organize and we're gonna need you for that." 

Ezra frowned.  "The Vineville items haven't been cataloged yet?  Surely, the bank manager or someone from the Judge's office..." He dug the fork into the pie again.

"Figured we'd wait for you," Buck replied.  They hadn't done much of anything since Ezra had been hurt.  Everyone was too busy with other things to be bothered with such frivolous work.  "'Sides, we gotta find a way of tellin' the folks 'bout the stuff that got broke and thought you'd be the guy who'd know how to say it so that they'd think they come out ahead in the bargain." 

Ezra considered this as he chewed the next bite.  "Where there's a will, there's a way," he said softly and then added,  "But aren't the owners anxious to have their property returned?" 

"Ezra," Josiah answered.  "A day doesn't go by without a telegram coming in, demanding a response."

"We just tell 'em to hold their water!  Tell 'em that they ain't gonna git nothin' if they keep yammerin' at us."  Vin added.  "Done the trick so far."

Ezra smiled. "Well worded." He returned his attention to the pie.  "Once the hour is up, I'll try the pumpkin," Ezra declared as he made it to the pecan's crust.   Ezra could have sworn that the healer was disappointed that he hadn't chosen the sweet-potato.  Vin smiled triumphantly.  "Perhaps I shall make my way through all of them by this time tomorrow," he added.

"Well, if it's gonna take a day for him to reach mine, I'm gonna have to have a bite of it first," Buck proclaimed as he grabbed a fork.

"Casey's gonna ask if hers was any good," JD concluded and headed to the table.

Ezra waved an invitation toward the pies, forking up another bite.  The mob descended on the table.

"Just take it easy, Ezra," Jackson muttered.

"Why, Nathan," Josiah said with a smile.  "Tyrone Bakkus got his just deserts; isn't it time Ezra had his?"

Ezra shook his head and grinned as he finished the last bite.

THE END  - NotTasha

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