Retribution
(Old West)

by Dorkjunkie and Sassysouix

Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven characters are owned by Trilogy, MGM, and the Mirisch Corporation. They are not mine. The only purpose of this story is for entertainment. No money is being made. (yadda yadda yadda. All boils down to I got no rights to the boys, but I wanna play with 'em.)

Vin tilted his chair back doing a quick survey of the room as he waited for Josiah and JD to return with the peacekeeper's drinks. Seated on either side of the long haired tracker, Nathan and Larabee were discussing the damage done to several small farms during a recent violent thunderstorm which had ripped through the area. Buck leaned against the far wall, a beer in one hand, his other arm around Molly whispering in the saloon girl's ear while the last of their little group was seated at his usual gaming table, a dimpled smile on his handsome face as Ezra swiftly dealt another round of poker.

"So ya think Bennett'll really sell out this time?" Larabee grinned. Every time something went wrong, the farmer swore he was getting rid of it all and heading for the gold fields. This last thunderstorm had destroyed sections of the man's fence and Bennett had spent three days chasing down his pigs.

"Gotta better question." Nathan nodded his thanks to JD as the young sheriff passed him one of the beer mugs. "Where's Ezra been sneakin' off to everyday this week?"

Larabee pretended not to see his best friend stifle a smile, as Tanner refused to join in the speculation which ranged from secretly meeting someone's wife to setting up a con job and everything illegal or immoral in between.

The sharpshooter's blue eyes held a delightful twinkle as they settled on the town's resident gambler. The tracker couldn't help but smile thinking how far from the truth they were and how stunned they'd be if made aware of the southerner's true activities.

The peacekeepers had scattered to the outlying areas after the storm, assessing damage and checking on residents who might need help, Mary posting the names of those in most need of assistance from neighbors.

Tanner had been on patrol when he'd crossed paths with Nettie Wells, who confessed she was worried about Granny Hinkley. The older woman's name hadn't been on the list but she was something of a recluse, living far back in the hills and was far too stubborn to ask for or accept help. Enjoying Nettie's company, Vin had ridden along with his friend into the hills, hoping together they might be able to, as Nettie had so eloquently phrased it 'talk some sense into the old bat's hard head'.

"My stars and garters!" Nettie's exclamation didn't accurately describe their reaction, when topping the ridge, they'd looked down on the small homestead to discover the gambler, stripped to the waist and hammer in hand, repairing the storm damaged smoke house.

Vin had waited out of sight, lounging in the shade while Nettie rode on down to visit. She'd finally taken her leave and joining up with Tanner back on the trail, reported that Ezra had discovered the storm damage his first day. Somehow, with his glib silver tongue, he had charmed the eccentric old woman's consent of his help in rebuilding. Nettie had snickered as she informed Vin, Granny had told her, 'that young man can be very persuasive and his payment couldn't be more reasonable'.

Tanner had inwardly cringed at the word payment, knowing if Chris found out, he'd wring the sometimes greedy gambler's neck.

As if sensing his thoughts, Nettie smiled as she added Ezra's payment had consisted of nothing more than lunch, the pleasure of Granny's company and her secrecy. According to the obviously pleased woman he had already fixed the fence enclosing her tiny garden, rebuilt the small building that housed her milk cow and a few chickens and repaired the porch.

"Not bad for someone who doesn't engage in menial labor." Nettie had quipped.

Nettie and Vin had mutually agreed to keep the gambler's latest benevolent enterprise between themselves, knowing it would only embarrass the man if his actions became public knowledge.

"Awww hell... Trouble." Tanner groaned.

Four pairs of eyes followed the tracker's gaze, coming to rest on the woman standing just inside the batwing doors. She was shoving money into a man's hand issuing instructions like a cavalry sergeant.

"Ya feelin' alright Vin?" Chris asked pulling a cheroot from his pocket.

"Yeah..." Tanner eyed Larabee suspiciously as the gunslinger lit the thin cigar. "Why?"

"Just wonderin' why ya didn't know there was another storm blowin' inta town." Larabee grinned, his comment drawing chuckles from the other men. He sobered, watching as the woman pushed her way through the Saturday night crowd.

"He knows..." All eyes turned to the subject of their earlier discussion at the sharpshooter's quiet comment.

Ezra was in the process of tossing a silver dollar into the hefty pot in the middle of the table, raising the stakes . The five men all noticed the slight stiffening of his back, the way his head dropped just a fraction before the gambler took a deep breath and turned his attention back to his opponents.

"One a these days I'm gonna figure out how he does that." Chris muttered under his breath, bringing a slight smile to Vin's face. The gambler had an uncanny knack for knowing who was approaching without so much as a glance in the person's direction.

"If ya'd informed me of your impending visit Mother I would have made it a point to reserve ya a seat." Ezra didn't bother to look at the woman who'd come to a stop behind his chair, as he added another bill to the growing pot.

"We need to talk... Now!" The peacekeepers watched in amusement as Maude snatched the cards from her son's hand throwing them on top of the money. "He folds."

"Mother! That was aces full!"

"I said we need to talk." Maude reiterated, sounding every bit like an angry mother speaking to an errant schoolboy, as she turned to give the other occupants of the table a dazzling smile. "If you gentlemen will excuse us."

The peacekeepers exchanged bemused expressions as gripping her son's wrist, Maude dragged the sputtering red faced southerner up the stairs to his room.

"Looks like somebody's goin' to the woodshed." Josiah chuckled, causing the other men to snicker.

Their amusement was cut short as Larabee growled. "Wonder what the hell she wants." The blond man tried to ignore the sick feeling of dread growing in his stomach, but he knew all too well, Maude's visits didn't bode well for the peacekeepers, the town and especially for Ezra.

"Probably needs him ta help her con somebody outta their life savin's." Nathan sniped with a sneer.

"Ezra don't do that no more." The young sheriff's simple statement of confidence in his friend brought smiles to the three of his four friends.

Nathan scowled, wanting to believe JD was right. He'd seen the changes in the con man since his association with the other six men who protected the town of Four Corners and although he considered the gambler not only a good friend but someone he trusted to watch his back, the healer had seen too many men revert to old habits when tempted with an irresistible bait. And a conniving woman like Maude would definitely know exactly the most tempting bait to dangle in front of her son to gain his full and undivided attention.

"How come nobody told me Maude was gonna be on the stage?" Wilmington dropped into a chair beside Josiah's, pulling Molly onto his lap. "Might have been tempted to stay out on patrol."

The front legs of Tanner's chair hit the floor with a dull thud. His eyes momentarily locked with Larabee's before the ex-bounty hunter pushed to his feet and hurried from the saloon.

"What's with Vin?" JD questioned, staring after the departing man.

Josiah exchanged looks with Larabee, "Weren't no stage today."

*******

With a weary sigh of disgust, Ezra hung his hat on the bedpost. Aces full... Damn! He turned to the woman who stood staring at him. "Alright mother, what is so important it couldn't wait until I finished acquiring-"

"Jake Cole escaped." A surge of pride welled in Maude as she watched her son utilize a life time of training to appear unfazed by her words, certain only she would have noticed the flash of fear that streaked through his emerald eyes. Yes, her inner voice whispered, you've taught him well.

"I'm sorry to say you've worked yourself into a tizzy for nothing Mother." He motioned her to the comfortable rocker beside the bed. "Even if Mr. Cole had intentions of carrying out his vile threats, it's an enormous country in which to search for one lone person when ya have no idea where to look and it has been fifteen..."

The words trailed off, the color draining from his face as Ezra's gaze settled on the very familiar object Maude had pulled from the cloth bag attached to her wrist. With a sad shake of her head, she flipped the item down on the quilt, refusing to acknowledge the shiver she saw race through her son's slender form.

*******

"Stage broke an axle just outside Hickory City." Vin reported, returning to his chair. "Talked ta the man what drove her. Told him she couldn't wait on repairs. Promised him a bonus iffen he could get her here in two days."

"Damn! Must be important!" Buck, having sent Molly on her way with promises of seeing her later, whistled lowly. "That's a good three day ride on horseback."

"Maybe his rich uncle died and left him a fortune." Nathan muttered. "Only thing important to 'em Standishes is money and..." He trailed off at Chris' deepening scowl.

"Guess we'll know soon enough." Larabee crinched, as the sound of a slamming door superseded the saloon noise.

Her perfect posture stiff as a board, Maude calmly descended the stairs. An aura of fear and apprehension mixed with the anger that fairly radiated from the woman. The six men, oblivious as to why, were stunned by the glare of pure hatred she tossed their direction before she marched from the saloon and headed for the hotel.

*******

As he listened to his mother's angry steps descending the stairs, Ezra turned down the lamp and stepped to the side of the window. Barely stirring the light drapes he surveyed the dark street, watching as Maude entered the hotel.

Jake Cole!

How many years had it been before the nightmares had finally abated? How long had it taken for him to stop jumping at shadows? How long had it taken him to realize every stranger who sat at his table hadn't been hired by Cole to end the gambler's life?

Damnit to hell! Why now? Why couldn't the man have died in the hell hole of Yuma prison? Why now! Now when he was finally found a place to belong and was learning to trust the men he worked with.

Ezra raked a trembling hand through his hair in agitation, hearing again the vindictive man's threatening words as clearly as if Cole were standing in the room with him, his dark eyes crazed with revenge.

The gambler's green eyed gaze fell once more to the solitary object Maude had tossed onto the bed. He shook his head. He should have know it would only be a matter of time.

*******

Ezra ignored the peacekeepers as offering his apologies for his absence he calmly sat down, shuffled the proffered cards and resumed the interrupted poker game.

*******

Looking up from the pew he was sanding, Josiah was surprised to see Ezra standing just inside the half opened door. The ex-priest tugged his watch from his pocket, shook it and held it to his ear certain the timepiece reading just after eight in the morning had to be wrong.

Returning the watch to his pocket, the large man continued his work, inconspicuously watching the gambler. Ezra's eyes searched every corner and shadow, his body language tense as he avoided the windows making his way cautiously to the front of the church. He ran his fingers lightly over the alter woodwork and Josiah realized he was standing where he could watch both entrances to the building.

The cardsharp finally spoke, his voice low. "Might I have a word with you Mr. Sanchez?"

"Sure..." Josiah straightened, studying the younger man. He could see the dark circles of sleeplessness under the gambler's eyes although he knew Ezra had retired to his room just after midnight, earlier than usual for him. "Ya okay Ezra?"

"Of course... I..." The gambler hesitated, examining the alter again as he gathered his thoughts. "As you know, my mother arrived last night... I would like to hire your services as an escort."

"Pardon?" He set the sanding block aside looking at the southerner in puzzled confusion.

Ezra flustered slightly, thinking his wording was not the best a touch of pink flushing his cheeks as he clarified, "I would like to pay you to escort Maude to Eagle Bend and see her safely on the train."

Josiah leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, studying the younger man. "Surprised she ain't stayin... Thought she'd wanna visit a few days."

"She has pressing business elsewhere and I find myself..." The gambler hesitated again, searching for a suitable explanation without lying to the man of faith who had become his friend. The preacher waited, certain he'd never seen the cocky gambler so nervous or so unaccustomedly unsure of himself. "I will of course reimburse you handsomely for your time Mr. Sanchez, I don't expect ya to-"

"Ya don't have to pay me ta do ya a favor Ezra." Josiah protested, his concern growing as the younger man kept glancing at the window. "I'd be pleased to go with Maude... Just wonderin-"

"Thank you Mr. Sanchez." Ezra interrupted, hurrying for the door. "I shall inform you as soon as she's ready."

It was only after the southerner had left that Josiah realized the gambler had left by the rear door.

*******

Ezra set the hastily filled carpet bag on the floor of the closet next to the bulging saddle bags. He'd leave tonight when the town and hopefully the six peacekeepers was sleeping. Slamming the door, the gambler pressed his forehead against the wood, unable to bring himself to glance around the now empty room that had been his home for the last two years.

Two years. Probably a year and fifty weeks longer than he'd ever spent anywhere. Of course he'd never had a home and family before.

Blinking rapidly against the tears filling his eyes, Standish lay down on the bed, curling into a ball on his side. Closing his eyes, he tried not to think of what he was about to do, but the warm memories refused to let him rest. With a groan, he realized he had finally come to accept the dusty little town in the middle of nowhere as his home.

Home. With that realization came another. Family. As much as he'd fought against the very concept, he had come to think of the six peacekeepers as the family he'd never known. Six unique individuals who stood beside him, protected him, accepted him for who he was and more importantly trusted him.

Trusted him. They trusted Ezra P. Standish... a gambler and a conman. A man they trusted not to lie to them... at least about anything important. Trusted him not to run out on them. He'd given his word to Chris... Too bad but he'd made an even greater important promise to himself. He'd promised he would protect those six men no matter what happened and now he couldn't let them pay for mistakes from his past.

Mistake? He shook his head. Cole a mistake? No, not this time. Ezra would never think of what he'd done as a mistake!

*******

Maude paced the hotel room, her anger growing with each passing minute.

Ezra had lied to her! Her son had stood in this very room, looked her straight in the eye and lied as smoothly as if she were some mark he was out to bilk. Worse, to her chagrin she had believed his words!

She couldn't stop the smile of pride which momentarily graced her lips. Damn he was good. She had taught him well... too well when he could turn the tables on her like that.

Ezra had marched into the room and calmly informed her Josiah would be escorting her to the train in Eagle Bend. Just like that. She was being dismissed. Sent away. Oh he said it was for her own safety... but...

'Rule number one Mother, always look out for number one.' The words held no sarcasm. He was simply stating facts. Facts and rules she'd taught him but he had neglected to finish the full saying she had taught him. '...always look out for number one because no one else ever will.'

Their argument had raged for nearly an hour before she'd finally elicited his promise to leave. Follow rule number one! Run. Leave this filthy little burg and never look back.

He'd agreed. Promising to leave... after he knew she was safely on her way east. As far as either of them were aware, Jake Cole didn't know Maude, but neither of them had survived in their livelihoods by being stupid or taking unnecessary chances.

It was only after he'd left, when she'd had time to think, had time to run through the changes in her son since joining the peacekeepers Maude had come to see the lie.

She had known he'd given his word to Larabee... promised the gunman he wouldn't run out on them again... and for some reason she couldn't fathom, Maude knew her son intended to keep that silly promise to the gunslinger.

She stopped pacing and gathering her gloves and bag, reaching for the doorknob. Well, she'd take care of that right now.

*******

Scrubbing away the tears, Ezra rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Damnit! Why did everything he touch turn to mud? He'd tried so hard to turn his miserable life around. He'd wanted his friends... his family... to be proud of him. He'd wanted them to be able to say they were happy to have known him. Now, all his efforts had been for naught. All for nothing.

Now because of him, because he had chosen to stay here among them, those same friends were in danger.

Ezra was surprised by the pang of guilt he felt at having had lied to Maude. He had told her he'd leave. Had even promised her he'd follow rule number one even though he had no intention of doing any such thing. He simply couldn't desert these men. Not again. Not ever.

It was only after he'd returned to his room, the full weight of that decision had descended on him. His staying in Four Corners would no doubt mean one or more of his friend's deaths. There was no way he could permit that to happen.

Snapping the watch lid shut, Ezra climbed to his feet and straightened his clothing. The others would be expecting him to join them for lunch before he started the afternoon patrol. He would go down, sit with them, pretend to eat... keep up the pretence of normalcy for just a while longer.

Then he'd be gone and quickly forgotten.

Reaching for his hat, his hand brushed the only other object laying on the dresser. The object Maude had disgustedly tossed on the bed. A simple crumbled dime novel. Gathering the book and crushing it in his hands, he hurled the piece of literature across the room, releasing a minute portion of his anger and frustration.

*******

Seeing the indignation burning in Maude's eyes, Inez quickly returned to her place behind the bar, deciding it would be safer to let the three peacekeepers already at the table wait for their lunch than approach them now and get caught in the crossfire.

Maude raked her disgusted gaze over Vin, who remembering his manners rose and pulled out one of the chairs for her. Ignoring the sharpshooter's attempts to be civil, she locked her full attention on Larabee. "I want ta congratulate ya'll... Or maybe I should be offering my salutations to my son... Evidently Ezra's taught ya well in the art of the con."

"Gotta problem, Maude?" Chris questioned nonchalantly as he pulled a cheroot from his pocket. Striking a match on the bottom of his boot, he puffed on the slim cigar to light it before returning his even gaze to Ezra's mother.

"As ya'll know, I have made my feelings regarding Ezra's decision to remain in this... mud hole you consider society... well known on many occasions and he has persistently chosen to ignore my advice. He seems ta think you... gentlemen..." She managed to make the word sound like an insult, "are his friends..."

"We are." Vin stated quietly staring at the woman in bewilderment. This was a side of Maude Standish none of the them had seen before. The Maude Standish they knew always seemed so calm and composed, letting nothing ruffle her feathers, yet the woman standing before them now, gripping the back of an empty chair so tightly her knuckles were white more closely resembled someone fighting to control their rising panic.

"Oh really...?" She deemed to give the long haired man a smug look. "With friends like you he sure as hell doesn't need any more enemies... Ya'll are always condemning Ezra for using his God given talents, yet you, yourselves, are usin' the most deceitful maneuvers at your disposal ta hold him here."

Engaged in their usual horseplay as they entered the saloon, Buck and JD skidded to a halt. Taking in the scene being played out, the ladies' man pulled the young sheriff to the bar. Motioning over the Spanish barmaid, he whispered. "What's goin' on?"

Inez just shook her head, giving them a slight shrug. She really wasn't sure what was happening but she was certain she wanted no part of it.

Chris knocked the ash from his cheroot. "Ezra can leave anytime he wants Maude. Ain't nobody holdin' a gun ta his head." Larabee sneered, his intense dislike of the woman apparent and growing with each passing moment.

In the back of his own mind the gunslinger felt a moment's doubt. Was Nathan right? Had Maude come to town, hoping to elicit Ezra's help in a con? If she had, her anger indicated JD was also justified in his belief the gambler would turn her down. After all, having received his pardon from Judge Travis as promised, there was no longer anything hanging over the conman's head to keep him in Four Corners. The six men had hoped he stayed because he truly wished to and because he believed he belonged with them.

A moment's heartache hit and Chris shoved the thought aside. He didn't want to think what his life would become if any of the six men he'd come to think of as family finally decided it was time for them to move on. Maude's next words drew his attention back to the furious woman.

"Who needs a loaded gun when guilt and a misplaced sense of obligation are just as effective?"

Enraged at what the woman was insinuating, he growled, "Don't know where ya got the idea we'd stoop ta your level... but at least we give a damn what happens to Ezra."

Every eye in the saloon widened in shock, as with a resounding smack, Maude's open palm met Larabee's cheek.

Eyes flashing, she hissed out, "I hope ta hell whatever it is my son thinks he owes you is worth the price, Mr. Larabee, because most assuredly, staying here will more than likely cost him-"

"Mother!"

They all eyes turned as one to see Ezra standing at the bottom of the stairs. Intent on the confrontation between the con woman and gunslinger not one of them had noticed the gambler's appearance.

"You've said quite enough, Mother." The quiet words rang through the saloon just as loudly as Maude's slap. Ezra, his face pale, a haggard look about his eyes, stood staring at the woman who'd given him birth as if she were a total stranger.

"The hell I have! Don't you think your... friends," She spat the word out with revulsion, "deserve to know what you're so willing to sacrifice-"

"Shut up Mother! I do not intend to tell you again." The gambler's demand shocked them all, none more than Maude.

The woman's mouth snapped shut, her cheeks flushing with indignation. Fascinated, everyone watched the battle of wills between mother and son.

The woman's mouth snapped shut, her cheeks flushing with indignation. Stunned and oddly enough, fascinated, everyone watched the battle of wills between mother and son.

Ezra had rarely won any contest against the formidable Maude and under normal circumstances Vin would have been rooting for the gambler, but with a growing sense of apprehension, the tracker's intuition screamed there was more to this situation than just Ezra's mere refusal to help his mother steal someone's money. For that reason, the young sharpshooter found himself wanting Maude to be the victor.

"I believe ya owe Mr. Larabee, an apology." Ezra bluntly pointed out, infuriating Maude even further.

How dare he think she would apologize to that ruffian gunfighter. "Unlike you, darlin' boy I don't feel I owe Mr. Larabee... or any of these other men... a damn thing."

Ezra slowly crossed the room and taking Maude's upper arm in an iron grip led the woman toward the exit gracing her with a glare that would have done Chris proud. His voice remained calm, his tone low with an edge of hardness. "You're makin' a spectacle of yourself Mother. I suggest we continue this discussion in the privacy of your room where I do recall asking ya to wait until it was time for your departure." Practically shoving her out onto the boardwalk, he glanced around the room. "Please accept my apologies gentlemen. I'm afraid my mother is feeling a bit out of sorts... probably due to the overwhelming heat." He turned abruptly and still gripping Maude's arm, hustled her across the street.

"But it ain't that hot," JD commented naively as he looked at the other men who were staring after the departing Standishes in total bewilderment.

*******

Outside his mother's room, Ezra caught the door before it was slammed in his face and calmly stepped inside, softly closing the door behind him. He watched as Maude stepped to the mirror where she adjusted several strands of hair that had slipped from the elaborate style. Eyeing his reflection in the mirror, her voice was like ice when she finally spoke. "I don't appreciate being lied to by my only child."

Ezra leaned back slightly against the door, his tone equally as cold. "And I don't appreciate having my personal business put on public display by my only mother." He retorted sarcastically. "That deplorable scene in the saloon accomplished nothing but to make you appear like an hysterical female and overbearing mother and we both know you're neither."

"Don't you dare reprimand me Ezra P. Standish!" The silver backed hairbrush hit the dresser top with a thwack which actually caused the hustler to jump as Maude spun to face him. Her expression softened as he sagged further back against the door, his shoulders slumping. Slowly crossing the room, she gently placed a hand against his cheek. "I may not be the perfect mother Ezra but I do worry about you... and I... don't want to lose you. Not to some silly peacekeeping accident nor to some crazed lunatic... Don't you understand, if you stay here, Jake Cole will kill you."

"I assure you, Mother, I have no intention of remaining here."

Maude was stunned by the depths of unbearable sadness revealed in the emerald eyes.

"Yes, I will admit I lied to you when I first told ya I would leave but unfortunately upon further consideration I realized your assessment of the present circumstances was correct and it would be in... my..." She caught the ever so slight hesitation of the emphasized word, "best interest to vacate this municipality."

"Ezra, my sweet boy-" She had never seen such despair in her son's eyes before.

"Mother I would appreciate it if you would do as I earlier asked earlier." Ezra stepped away from her. "I know ya don't take kindly to being given what ya might consider orders, however, it is for your safety as well as my own. If Cole arrives and discovers your identity before you take your leave of this charming town, he would undoubtedly use you to get to me. I don't wish to see any harm come to you which is why I asked Mr. Sanchez to accompany you to Eagle Bend. As soon as I know you're safely on your way I, myself, will execute my departure..." He hesitated, then softly added, "One final favor... I would appreciate it if you kept this... all of this... to yourself." With a wistful smile, Ezra placed a loving kiss on her cheek. "Goodbye Mother, I'll be in touch as soon as Cole is no longer a threat. I'm sure you'll understand if I don't see you off at the stage tamorra." With another small smile, he turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.

Only then did the tears begin to streak Maude's powdered cheeks as she began to realize what this place and these people had come to mean to her son.

*******

"Guess ya was right JD." Buck muttered, giving Inez a wan smile as she placed bowls of stew before the men, setting a large plate of buttered bread in the middle of the table. He absently gathered two slices. "Ya said Ez wouldn't help her with a con."

"Told ya he don't do that no more." The young sheriff reiterated stubbornly, averting his eyes from the red mark of Maude's handprint still visible on Larabee's cheek. "Musta been hard on Ezra though... Didn't think Maude would get that mad."

"Musta been a helluva lotta money, to throw her inta that kinda hissy fit." Wilmington found his eyes wandering to the fading outline as well, stifling a smile. Few people crossed Chris Larabee and lived to speak of it. The damn woman had guts, he'd give her that. "Reckon if we was ta ask, Ez, he'd tell us how much?"

"Whatever it is ya wanna ask Ezra is gonna have ta wait," Nathan answered, as he entered and crossed to the table. "Just seen him headin' out on patrol." Realizing there wasn't an empty bowl on the table, to imply the gambler had eaten before heading out, the healer felt himself growing angry. It seemed to him whenever Maude came to town, her son didn't eat enough to keep a newborn kitten alive. "I can't believe ya'll let him get outta here without..." Glancing at Chris, his dark eyes widened and he reached out to grasp Larabee's chin, turning the man's face toward the light. "What the hell happened ta you?"

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Josiah intoned with a chuckle, ignoring the glare aimed in his direction. "Seems Maude feels we've had a detrimental influence on Ezra. Reckon he turned down whatever proposition she had in mind..."

"Don't think it's 'bout money." Vin spoke up, stirring the stew disinterestedly.

"Hell, Vin, with Maude everything's about money." Larabee shoved his own bowl away, unable to push aside the overwhelming feeling Vin was right.

"Whatda ya mean Vin?" Ignoring the stew even JD appeared more interested in what was happening than his lunch.

Tanner shrugged, searching for the words to explain the feelings. They'd all dealt with Maude Standish enough to know what was important to her... money. Win or lose she seemed to enjoy running the con, taking on the game and trying to outsmart those around her, but she never ever discussed the money made. Discussing the financial profit or ramifications was considered by the woman as crude and undignified to the woman, yet she'd been about to tell them what Ezra was giving up by staying in Four Corners. Like her son, always in control of her emotions, people saw only what she wanted them to see but the woman who had lashed out at Chris Larabee hadn't been playing a role. That realization shook the young tracker. "Did ya'll really take a close look at her...? Somethin's got Maude runnin' scared..."

"Scared? How ya mean?" JD questioned naively. Anybody with nerve enough to slap Chris wouldn't be frightened of the devil himself. "That woman ain't scared a nothin."

Larabee shook his head replaying the previous events in his mind, seeing the signs the tracker had so easily read. "Vin's right. Somethin's wrong and it's got her so worried she forgot herself."

"Ya thinkin' what I am Chris?" Vin eyed his friend questioningly.

Larabee nodded. "I think maybe we ought to let Mrs. Standish finish her conversation."

Knowing being on patrol, Ezra wouldn't be back for several hours. Chris looked to the preacher, knowing he had the best chance of convincing Maude to finish what she'd started. "Josiah, wanna fetch Maude back here so we can find out what that somethin' is?"

"Iffen I was her, I don't think I'd wanna face the lion in his den." Josiah sighed, tossing his napkin aside and pushing back from the table. A twinkle in the blue grey eyes, the gunfighter added, "'Specially after I whopped him with a right cross."

Larabee grinned wolfishly. "Than don't ask."

*******

"Somebody give me a gun!" A woman's high shrill demand floated on the air, anger dripping off the southern drawled words.

"What the hell is that?" Wilmington jumped from the chair at the feminine screech and rushed to the saloon entrance. Slapping his knee, he bent double as he roared with laughter, finally gathering himself enough to hold aside one of the batwing doors. "Ya'll just ain't gonna believe this."

Unlike the fun-loving womanizer of their group the other peacekeepers had the good grace to choke back their laughter and hide their smiles behind their hands as Josiah stepped through the door, a kicking shrieking Maude Standish thrown over his shoulder like a sack of feed.

The woman's fists were pounding ceaselessly on his broad back, but never seemed to phase him as setting her on her feet, Josiah quickly stepped back avoiding the clenched fist which was now aimed at his chin. With a slight shove, catching her off balance, he pushed her into the chair Tanner quickly slid behind her.

"Take it she didn't wanna come back to the den." Larabee snickered.

Josiah nodded. "Asked her real nice and polite too... Ended up usin' my last resort."

Seething, Maude started to gain her feet but one look at Larabee's expression and she settled back down, turning her attention to Josiah instead. "Mr. Sanchez even if I don't exact my revenge for your uncouth treatment beforehand I can assure you, your services as an escort to Eagle Bend are no longer required. I have no desire to spend time in the company of someone who would manhandle a woman in such an undignified manner." Maude announced, straightening her waist jacket and patting her hair back into place.

"Now Maude-"

"Mrs. Standish to you!" She snapped curtly.

"I did ask ya nice... Told ya Chris wanted ta talk to ya." Josiah explained patiently.

"And I made it quite clear I have no wish to speak with Mr. Larabee, now or in the future!" She started to rise again, but Josiah placed a large hand on her shoulder effectively holding her in place. She glared at him her eyes flashing with fury. "I'm certain Ezra will agree when I inform him of your barbaric behavior."

"Ya know it's rude to talk about someone as if they weren't in the room." Chris commented sardonically. All humor left his voice as he leaned closer to the woman. "As for Ezra... He ain't gonna hear a word about this. As of this moment, everything said at this table... stays at this table." There was no doubt in anyone's mind Larabee was speaking to all of them and for all of them.

He sat back, taking a sip of his beer, allowing the woman to gather her composure. "This time I'm gonna ask the questions and I want straight answers in plain English."

Defiance flared in her blue eyes as she held Larabee's gaze steadily. The other five men watched in silence this battle between the two formidable opponents, no one completely certain who would win.

Chris leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze locked on the woman's face. "Whatcha come here for Maude? What is it ya want from Ezra this time?"

Tanner quietly watched the woman closely seeing the internal battle as she was waging, not knowing she was struggled with wanting to do as Ezra had requested and needing to inform them so she could garner these men's help to protect her son. The tracker realized Chris' hell bent for leather approach with the woman was clearly going to get them nowhere. "JD why don't ya get Mrs. Standish a cup a coffee." Vin spoke over his shoulder.

"Actually it's Mrs. Cavandish at the present time." She automatically corrected. "I recently remarried and a cup of coffee would be greatly appreciated... Perhaps with a touch of brandy." Perhaps the long haired man was not as uncivilized as she had first thought.

"Maude," Deciding he couldn't keep her married names straight, Vin reverted back to her Christian name. "We know Ezra's in some kinda fix and we all wanna help, but we can't iffen we don't know what the problem is." His blue eyes were softly pleading as he added. "And knowin' yer son, the only way we're gonna find out is iffen you tell us."

Nodding her thanks to JD, accepting the cup he offered, Maude silently sipped the coffee, the fingers of her left hand drumming nervously on the table. She studied each of the men surrounding her, surprised and very oddly moved at seeing their genuine concern for her son's welfare.

Her eyes returned to Larabee. The blond gunslinger's hazel eyes hadn't wavered from her but now the anger was being overridden by... worry. That visible distress over her son's well being swayed her decision.

She slowly lowered the mug to the table top and fussed with it nervously. "I'm going to hold you to your word Mr. Larabee and I trust these other gentlemen will be just as gracious in repeating none of this conversation to Ezra." Maude waited for each of them to nod agreement before continuing. "I realize you gentlemen think I'm a poor excuse for a mother but I have always done what I thought best for my son, even if it doesn't appear so." She paused. while Inez as if sensing they were going to need liquid fortification appeared with a bottle of whiskey and several glasses as well as brandy for Maude.

"Plain and simple Mr. Larabee, with one stipulation... Don't ask me to reveal more details than absolutely necessary." She took a deep breath. "In answer to your question Mr. Larabee, I came to Four Corners, not to drag Ezra into some scheme as I'm sure you imagined but to warn him."

"Bout what?" Chris pressed.

"Jake Cole."

"Hey, I just got a wire about him this morning..." JD cut in excitedly. " He escaped from Yuma prison a couple weeks ago... But... What's Ezra got to do with him?"

"Have any of you ever noticed my son's aversion to riding the stage if it's at all avoidable?"

Surprisingly only Nathan answered in the affirmative. "Just reckoned it was cause the stage ain't exactly the most comfortable way ta travel and we all know Ezra likes his comforts."

"I wish that were the answer. When Ezra was younger, we were working a hustle... I had gone ahead to set up the mark and Ezra was to join me later. Several men led by Sam Cole... Jake's brother... robbed the stage, killing the driver immediately. Besides Ezra, the only other passengers were a young woman and her daughter. They too, eventually died at the hands of the Sam Cole. As the only witness to the heinous crimes, it was Ezra's testimony that sent the man to the gallows. Jake swore at the trial he'd avenge his brother and kill Ezra the first chance he got."

JD frowned. "How come they just didn't kill Ezra too?" The question earned him a slap to the head from Buck, seeing the woman's face pale.

Maude swallowed hard. "They almost did. If he hadn't been found when he was, you gentlemen would never have had the pleasure of knowin' my darlin' boy."

*******

Knowing Chaucer would alert him to any possible danger, Ezra let his mind wander. It was a bad habit he'd picked up spending so much time alone. Of course his trusted horse couldn't warn him of a bullet from some distant hill top but then again that might be the answer to his problem. At least, with him dead Jake would have no reason to hang around and hurt anyone else.

He suppressed a shiver, mentally reinforcing the walls which held back the memories threatening to surge forth. He had thought he'd successfully put that horrific period of his life behind him yet since Maude's announcement he been struggling to keep the nightmare memories at bay.

Tears welled as a pair of large bright blue eyes flashed through his mind. Eyes the color of Vin Tanner's. Blue eyes shining impishly with happiness and laughter. Blue eyes filled with terror. Lifeless blue eyes staring emptily at the grey sky.

Swallowing hard around the lump in his throat, Ezra pulled the flask from his pocket taking a large swallow. A bittersweet smile touched his lips. At least now he wouldn't die wondering any longer how his mother felt about him. Maude had almost said it or as close as she would probably ever get. In all his years, he could never remember her actually telling him she loved him but he'd heard it loud and clear. 'I don't want to lose you.'

Guilt washed over him. He knew she'd never understand why he had chosen to remain in Four Corners... hell, even he didn't understand it... but he also knew she would scorn his true reasons for leaving. Six very real and important reasons.

*******

The six men listened in silence as Maude continued her story. "...Ezra specifically requested I not attend the trial, however I long ago learned what my sweet boy don't know doesn't hurt him so while I remained in the closest town, a representative reported to me every evening on the court proceedings."

At the time, Maude had convinced herself, she was acceding to her son's wishes but the undeniable truth was she couldn't bear to see the vivid reminders of his brutal treatment at the hands of Sam Cole. Even when Ezra was a child, she had hated seeing her only child hurt or ill. Then, at a loss as how to make him feel better, she had taught him to ignore the pain, to pretend nothing was wrong.

"How come Jake didn't hang too?" Josiah's soft question drew her back to the table as he finally slipped back into his chair.

"He wasn't with his brother that day. Seems he was laid up with a broken leg or some such inconvenience. However, the judge did pass down a verdict of life imprisonment as a result of several other crimes he was known to have committed."

"What makes ya think this scumbag knows Ezra's here?" Tanner questioned, exchanging glances with Larabee who also saw the con woman's hand tremble as she refilled the brandy glass. "It's a big country."

She nodded. "Yes it is, Mr. Tanner and Ezra said much the same thing. Normally I might have agreed with you both," She hesitated. "However, a certain book has been written naming the Magnificent Seven men who protect a small backwater frontier town named Four Corners."

Comprehension dawned. Jock Steele's dime novel. "Knew that book was gonna bring nothing but trouble." Chris grumbled. "Shoulda shot that pencil pushin' little son of a bitch when we had the chance."

Maude glared at Larabee as she took a fortifying swallow of brandy. "I won't pretend to understand why my darlin' boy decided to remain in this... town... but he has finally agreed this is the perfect opportunity to make good his escape."

Chris bristled at the statement, before a small nudge of Vin's foot against his chair, forced him to remember who he was dealing with. How many times had Maude attempted to persuade her son to return to his old life? She'd do anything necessary to get what she wanted. While the wire JD had received corroborated her story about Jake Cole, past experience warned Larabee she was no doubt twisting the gambler's words to suit her own selfish desires.

Maude sipped the amber liquor before steadily meeting the men's six pairs of eyes. She recognized that these men may be her son's best... perhaps his only... chance at survival. Although, Ezra was wily and resourceful, he certainly wasn't cold blooded enough to take on Jake Cole alone. It went against her grain to outright ask for their help. It seemed except for Josiah none of them particularly cared for her and she wasn't really sure any of them would lift a finger or offer aid even if they did like Ezra. They would not be as easily manipulated as most the people she dealt with. These men would not be taken in by flattery and smiles or a sob story and tears. This called for a entirely different strategy on her part.

With a deep breath, setting the glass back on the table, she threw down the gauntlet. "I would greatly appreciate it if you gentlemen did nothing to impede my son's decision."

Bullseye! Chris thought, Afraid that's exactly what they would do, she hoped to make it sound as if the con man had always wanted to leave.

"Don't ya think it would be safer for him here?" Wilmington questioned. "I mean... hell... at least we'll be able to watch his back."

Maude lifted her chin defiantly. "He won't need anyone to watch his back, in a larger city and with a new name."

"And he'll be able to help you with a con any time you need him." Larabee pointed out sarcastically, drawing a look of hatred from the woman before she rose and smoothed the front of her skirt.

"I'm told a man is only as good as his word, so I know I can trust you gentlemen to say nothing of this to Ezra." She graced Chris with a sardonic smile. "As you said, Mr. Larabee, what's said at this table stays at this table. Upon further consideration, I've decided refusing your company to Eagle Bend will only arouse my darlin' boy's suspicions so I shall meet you at the stage Josiah. Good afternoon gentlemen." Trying to hide her smile of triumph, nodding to Inez she moved from the room.

*******

Maude watched as the driver secured her luggage to the top of the stage. She turned to the black clad gunslinger leaning against the support post next to the tracker.

"You're not going to let him leave are you?" She could read their expressions as easily as she could that damn dime store novel of Steele's.

"Not if we can help it." Larabee shook his head, pulling a cheroot from his pocket. "Buck's right ya know... He'll be a lot safer here where we can watch his back than alone out on the trail somewhere."

Maude turned her gaze to where Josiah held the stage door for the boarding passengers, a small feeling of satisfaction racing through her. As much as she wanted Ezra to leave this piss ant town in the middle of nowhere, she didn't want that exit to be the cause of his death.

She had known her son had changed his mind about leaving simply because of the six peacekeepers and Maude had hoped they felt a minute portion of the absurd sense of loyalty Ezra had developed towards these men. If not, she could at least count on their nobility when it came to protecting someone in need.

She momentarily wondered what it was about these men which caused her darlin' boy to toss aside life long training against permitting people to get too close. How had they not only managed to get past the conman's natural defenses but had also inspired feelings Ezra had learned as a child to suppress? She could only pray these men whom her son so greatly admired would prove worthy of his trust.

"Time to go ma'am." The driver's words pulled her from her musings.

"Thank you." She turned to the man in black, her words low. "Mr. Larabee, please take care of my son... whether you believe it or not, I do love him."

Accepting Josiah's hand, she climbed into the coach and as Maude took her seat next to the window, she blinked back the tears as her blue eyed gaze came to rest on the shadowed figure of her son watching from the second floor window.

*******

With a small smile Ezra raised a hand in farewell as Maude gently pressed her fingertips to her lips, sending him a kiss.

*******

Ezra rechecked the loads in each weapon. Damnit!!! He should have been gone days ago. He'd planned on leaving as soon as Josiah returned and he knew his mother was safely on her way, but something always seemed to prevent his departure. With his first attempt he'd been stunned to discover Vin's battered old wagon parked next to the livery having a damaged wheel repaired. Knowing what a light sleeper the tracker was, there was no chance Ezra would be able to leave unnoticed under the cover of night. He couldn't help but wonder how the wheel got damaged since the wagon never went anywhere.

To make matters worse, Buck had taken to spending almost every night with Molly, his favorite bar maid, in the room across the hall from the gambler's own.

It appeared as much as he tried to avoid them, tried to keep them away, lately it seemed as if one or more of the peacekeepers was always underfoot. Of course that made it easier for him to watch over them for he knew, given the chance, Cole would target his friends. Until he could make good his escape, he would do everything in his power to keep them safe.

He figured his next best chance to leave would be the following day. He had the late patrol and as soon as he was finished he'd just keep riding, as fast and as far as he could get from Four Corners. He'd telegraph Chris from Willow Creek with an excuse and assurances that everything was fine and he'd be back as soon as he concluded some pressing business matters. Larabee would be pissed but then when wasn't he? The wire, at least, would keep him from searching for the gambler and Ezra's justification was pissed off was better than dead.

A short time later, Ezra hesitated on the landing, his weary gaze raking the almost full saloon below, automatically seeking his friends. He already knew Josiah and JD were making rounds having seen them from his bedroom window. Chris, Vin and Nathan were seated at the peacekeeper's usual table. Buck leaned against the far wall near the swinging doors, one arm around Molly. Ezra couldn't help but wonder if the womanizer would ever realize Molly was in love with him or how much he actually loved her. With a sigh, knowing he wouldn't be around long enough to discover the answer, his emerald gaze searched the faces of the other customers, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he didn't spot the vision of his nightmares.

Damn he was bone weary but still believing appearances were everything, he took a deep breath, straightened his jacket and pasted a smile on his face before starting down the stairs. Intent on his own thoughts, he didn't see the barely perceptible nod, Chris sent in Buck's direction nor did he notice the amiable gunslinger slip momentarily away from Molly and out the door.

"Hey Ez," Vin smiled shoving a chair away from the table. "Looks like a big night."

"That it does Mr. Tanner." Ezra sat down, accepting the shot glass Larabee passed him. Although he claimed not to be superstitious it had become a tradition for the gambler to join the other peacekeepers for a drink before starting his nightly poker game. "Could be a profitable night indeed."

"Ya feelin' okay Ez?" Nathan questioned, eyeing the cardsharp suspiciously. It was evident to all of them, the con man hadn't been sleeping and no one could remember him doing more than pick at his food since Maude's sudden appearance. "Ya didn't catch Billy's cold did ya?"

Ezra shook his head, trying to divert the healer's attention. "I assure you Mr. Jackson, I'm quite well. Thank you for asking."

JD suddenly burst through the doors and hurried to the table. "Chris, this came over the wire. Ya might wanna take a look at it." He handed Larabee the flimsy sheet of telegraph paper as Ezra tossed back the shot.

"What's up Pard?" Vin leaned forward, still watching the gambler out of the corner of his eye.

"Aw hell, they want us to keep an eye out for some fool that escaped Yuma prison... Anybody ever heard a Jake Cole."

The color washed from Ezra's face and he struggled not to choke on the fiery liquid at Larabee's seemingly innocent question.

*******

"Ya sure yer okay Ezra?" Nathan questioned as the gambler passed the table. Knowing he was unable to concentrate on the cards, they'd heard Ezra make his excuses to the other players, leaving the gaming table after only a couple of hours.

"Just tired." Ezra forced a smile, wishing the healer would just leave him alone. "If you want to heal what ails me, perhaps, you might persuade the nefarious lothario of our intrepid band to spend the night romancing the lovely Miss Molly in his own room thereby permitting the rest of us a decent night's sleep."

"Mrs. Jenkins would fill his ass with buckshot if she caught him sneakin' Molly inta the boardin' house. She threatened ta toss him out on his ear last time she found his latest conquest in his room." Josiah chuckled. "Why don't ya sleep in his room since it ain't bein' used."

Ezra grimaced. "Lack of sleep is preferable to nightmares."

"You havin' nightmares Ezra?" If the preacher hoped to catch their friend off guard he was out of luck.

"I would if I slept at Buck's." The gambler grinned. "I shudder to think what takes place in that bed. Maybe I can get a few hours sleep before Romeo retires for the evening. Goodnight gentlemen."

"Think he bought it?" Chris asked, forcing himself not to watch the southerner climb the stairs.

The tracker's sharp eyes watched Ezra over the rim of his beer glass. Larabee knew the sharpshooter could read the enigmatic conman better than any of them. "Think so..." He glanced at the other men seated at the table. "He's hidin' somethin'..."

"We all know that." Nathan stated, staring at the younger man as if he'd lost his mind.

Chris was beginning to regret giving his word to Maude. This would be a hell of a lot easier if he could just grab the stubborn southerner by the collar and confront him head on. Admit to the man, they knew about Jake Cole's threats and the seven of them would face the man together.

Tanner shook his head. "Ain't just that. Somethin' he ain't even told his ma."

Chris' eyebrows arched as Tanner finished his beer and shoved back from the table.

"Gonna take a walk over to the livery." Vin answered the unasked question as he moved for the door.

*******

Why was everything suddenly working against him? Ezra lay staring at the ceiling, the lamp's wick turned down so low, it barely emitted any light in the small room. If that damn wire had only arrived twenty four hours later, he'd have been long gone. Now his best chance to leave without explanation or argument was gone. Just his luck, until they were sure Cole wasn't in the area, Larabee thought it best if the peacekeepers took extra precautions and no one was to ride patrol alone.

He pushed up from the bed and crossed to the window. Barely moving the curtains his green eyed gaze carefully searched the nearly empty street. The muted noise of the saloon grew louder as quickly taking the carpet bag from it's place in the closet, he extinguished the light and hastily slipped through the window.

*******

The gambler kept to the shadows as he made his way to the livery. He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached to push open the door. At the sound of soft footfalls behind him, he whirled, snapping the arm rigged derringer into his hand. He relaxed, sliding the gun back up his sleeve as Vin struck a lucifer lighting the lantern hanging from the end of his wagon.

"Evenin' Ez." Tanner seated himself on the tailgate, seemingly taking no notice of the carpet bag the gambler had tossed into the hay to free his other hand. "Nice night. Ya gettin' some fresh air?"

"Indeed." Ezra cursed himself wondering why he hadn't been aware of Tanner's presence but then again his mind had been elsewhere and the others always said Vin was like smoke...

Vin opened an old wooden supply trunk, digging around before finally coming up with a whetstone and settling himself more comfortably on the hard tailgate, he set about sharpening his knife. "Yer welcome ta sleep here iffen the saloon's too noisy." He offered.

Chris, standing unseen in the shadows, almost laughed out loud vividly imagining the delicate shudder that coursed through the gambler's body at Tanner's offer. It had taken him longer than normal to realize Vin suspected the con man was going to make a break for it and with that realization, Larabee had made his own way to the livery stepping quickly into the dark as Tanner lit the lantern.

"I appreciate your most generous offer Mr. Tanner but I'm confident I can discover a reasonable solution."

A lopsided grin flashed on Tanner's boyish face. "Well jist don't shoot him... Nathan'll have yer ass, ya make any more work for him."

"Never crossed my mind." A dimpled grin graced the gambler's face at the sharpshooter's dubious expression. "Okay, perhaps it did cross my mind... briefly..." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Well I won't keep you any longer... Sleep well Vin." With a side long glance at the carpet bag laying half buried in the loose hay, Ezra turned to leave.

"Ya know I've seen corpses with more color than you had when Chris mentioned that Jake Cole fella." Tanner kept his eyes on the whetstone as Ezra froze. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Mind your own business Mr. Tanner." Ezra's tone was as cuttingly sharp as the knife in Vin's hand. He took another step before hesitating, regret washing over him. He half turned back to the younger man. "I apologize for exhibiting such rudeness Vin, my only excuse is that I must be more weary than I thought."

Vin shrugged it aside, his voice soft. "No problem Ez." His sharp gaze saw the poker face settle into place. "Jist thought it'd be helpful iffen we knew more about this Jake Cole."

Ezra looked away, chewing on his lower lip as he admitted softly, "I've heard of the man and if what I've heard is partially correct, the less ya'll know about him, my friend, the better."

Chris had to strain to hear the gambler's quiet words.

Vin saw the gambler's shoulders slump. "Ya know Ez... Ya don't-"

"I know Vin." Ezra hesitated again, wanting desperately to tell the tracker. He'd relied only on himself, his wits and his skills in dealing with problems his entire life. He had never trusted anyone to help, certain the payment they would exact was more than he was willing to pay. That was until he had encountered these men. These six men had offered their friendship with no strings, no price attached. They had been there when he needed someone to back his plays, asking only that he do the same.

He knew the tracker was right but still had doubts. As much as Ezra tried to convince himself otherwise, he was still certain their best chance against Cole was the gambler's absence. Without him in town there was no reason for the man to even stop in Four Corners, yet the more his friends knew about the escaped criminal the better prepared they would be for a confrontation.

Vin watched silently as Ezra struggled with himself knowing the gambler was trying to decide how much... if anything... to tell him. Standing there, digging the toe of his boot in the dirt, one thumbnail rubbing across his lower lip, the silver tongued conman resembled a small boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Tanner couldn't help but realize they had made progress where the gambler was concerned. To everyone's surprise, none more so than Ezra, the conman had chosen to remain with the peacekeepers after receiving his pardon and as the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, had slowly shown them that not only could they put their trust him but most importantly, that he had come to trust them.

The sharpshooter set the whetstone aside and replacing the knife in its sheath, scooted over making room for the gambler to sit as Ezra slowly stepped back towards him. "I'm afraid Mr. Tanner, I can impart very little information concerning Jake Cole."

Vin half nodded with a slight shrug. "Ya know what he looks like don'tcha?"

"Unfortunately, that I do." Ezra sighed, scrubbing a hand across his eyes as if attempting to wipe away the memory before softly calling out, "Mr. Larabee ya might find it more comfortable if ya joined us. Standing there in the dark someone is liable to mistake you for one of the less than upstanding citizens which roam the territory."

Chris choked back a soft laugh. One of these days... he grinned and striking a match lit a cheroot before stepping to the back of the wagon. Damn southerner had instincts like Tanner, at least when it came to Larabee's presence. The gunslinger was honest enough with himself to admit that while he had waited in the shadows to insure Ezra's safe return to the saloon, he'd also remained quiet hoping the gambler would open up to Vin. He knew with Standish always on guard around him, that was less likely to happen with him there. "Sorry Ezra... I -"

"No problem." Ezra grinned as Tanner elbowed him gently in the ribs when the con man repeated his words. The southerner's expression sobered as his thoughts returned to the topic of their discussion. "I was about to describe Jake Cole for Mr. Tanner... Half a head taller than Nathan perhaps." He was silent for a moment, pulling up the vision of the man he had tried so hard to forget these past years. "When I saw him last he weighed approximately two hundred and fifty pounds, of pure muscle... of course prison life is not always conducive to health and he may have lost some of that weight..."

Vin tried not to laugh seeing Chris roll his eyes as Ezra rambled on about the effect of prison on some people.

"Ezra!"

"Sorry." The reprimanded con man ran a thumb over his lower lip again. "He had jet black hair about the length of Eli Joe's with a very distinctive streak of white near his widow's peak... marked like a skunk... Funny I never put that image together before..." The words trailed off as Ezra's mind wandered, a shudder wracking his body before he pulled his thoughts back to the present. "Perhaps Jake's most distinctive feature is his eyes... They are the coldest deadest eyes you'll ever see... I've not seen eyes like that before or since as they are such a light grey as to almost have no color what so ever."

The two men sat in silence waiting for Ezra to pull himself back from wherever his memories had taken him.

Abruptly the conman blurted out, "I'm sorry to say Mr. Larabee, that I must tender my resignation-"

Chris stiffened, glaring at the man. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

Ezra refused to meet his eyes as he spoke, his voice soft in the night stillness. "I don't want to be responsible for people being hurt or killed and that's just what will happen if he comes to Four Corners... Trust me, he will come."

"How's him comin' here yer fault?" Vin hated keeping up the pretense of ignorance concerning Jake Cole but they'd given their word and somehow he knew Ezra needed to tell them himself about his involvement with the escaped convict.

"I..." Ezra took a deep breath. "I..." His mind was screaming at him to shut up... not tell them... lie... but he couldn't. For some reason he didn't fully comprehend he found it becoming more difficult to lie to these men. "When Cole comes here... he'll be looking for me." The words were barely audible as the nightmare memories rushed over him yet again.

"Why?" Tanner's quiet question broke the silence and once more pulled Ezra's thoughts back to the two men staring at him, awaiting his response.

"Why doesn't matter..." The gambler's resolve diminished as he forced himself to meet Chris' steady gaze, surprised it wasn't one of the man's fierce 'don't jerk me around' Larabee glares. Seeing honest concern in the man's unwavering stare, he took a deep breath. "I was the sole witness to his brother committing murder. I testified to said act in a court of law and due to that testimony... Sam was hanged shortly there after."

Vin's quiet question broke the long silence following his confession. "So ya reckon he'll be lookin' for revenge?"

"I don't reckon, Mr. Tanner... I know." Ezra stated. "For that very reason, I must leave." The gambler shoved himself off the tailgate and started for the stables. "I would appreciate it if you would relay my goodbyes to the-"

"Standish!"

The con man jerked violently away, stumbling as Chris grabbed his arm.

"It's over Larabee! Don't you see that?" Ezra shouted. "Call me a coward if ya want but I gotta get outta here! It's safer for-" The conman clamped his lips shut gritting his teeth as he realized he had almost admitted too much.

Seeing the intensity of the emotions playing across the gambler's expressive face as he stood struggling to compose himself, Chris backed off. It stunned the gunslinger to realize the gambler's first concern was Larabee would think of him as a coward.

Ezra studied the ground, fists clenching and unclenching as Chris stepped closer placing a hand on the gambler's shoulder. The gunslinger's tried to ignore the tremors he felt racing through the conman's slender form. "No one thinks you're a coward Ezra. Only a fool doesn't get scared and no one could ever call ya a fool."

His eyes still locked on the ground, Ezra shook his head. "I don't think my mother would agree with you."

"Since when do Maude and I ever agree on anything." Larabee smiled giving the thin shoulder a soft squeeze before dropping his hand. "Problem is yer tired and ya ain't thinkin' real clear. If Cole's headed this way... and I repeat if... there's a more likely chance ya'll meet him out on that road than here in town."

The southerner raised his head, his expression puzzled. "I don't..." He began but Tanner cut him off.

"Ya ain't alone no more Ez." Vin pointed out quietly. "Ya got friends here who want ta help."

"Ya don't understand... I can't..." Ezra stammered, slowly shaking his head. Damn! When had he lost the ability to form a coherent sentence. "I wish... Ya just don't... under-"

It was Chris who spoke. "Understand this Ezra and it's all ya gotta know... He comes here, the seven a us will face him... together." There was a strength and determination in Larabee's words as he tried to offer the gambler comfort and reassurance.

The sharpshooter saw the longing and the fear in the gambler's eyes. Ezra wanted desperately to believe their words. Will every fiber of his being, the man wanted to believe he no longer had to face the world and its dangers alone. He knew the six men would watch his back. Knew they would back his play just as they had before, but Vin could see the overwhelming fear winning out over that newly budded belief and he somehow knew the fear Ezra was struggling with wasn't for himself.

"I-I-" Ezra faltered and seemed to crumple in on himself. "I'll... think about it."

"Okay then, try and get some sleep..." Chris winked and gave the cardsharp's shoulder another squeeze. "I'll make sure Buck is otherwise occupied tonight."

With a nod and a wan smile directed toward the two men, Ezra turned to leave.

"Hey, Ez ya fergot somethin'." Tanner lightly vaulted from the tailgate and snagged the carpet bag from where it lay. Offering it to the gambler he held onto it as Ezra grasped the handle forcing the cardsharp to look at him. "Ez," His gruff voice was soft. "We can't force ya ta stay... but we sure as hell don't want ya to go."

Seeing the sincerity in the blue eyes, Ezra tried to swallow around the lump that had reformed in his throat. Clenching his jaw to stop his chin from quivering, the gambler simply nodded.

*******

As the darkness suddenly parted around him, Ezra watched in horror as his bullets seemed to bounce off Cole's body as the large man's hands continued to tighten around Vin's throat, suffocating the life from the tracker even as he was shaking the sharpshooter like a child's rag doll. Screaming with rage, the gambler continued to fire until each of his guns were empty before throwing himself bodily at the man, trying desperately to pry Cole's hands away from his friend, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched the bright sparkle of life drain from Vin's blue eyes, leaving them flat, lifeless... dead...

With a strangled screaming sob, Ezra bolted up in the bed, his heart racing. Stumbling to his feet, he grabbed his Remington from the nightstand and jerked open his door. He had to help Tanner! Cole had Vin!

Buck, dozing in a chair in the hallway, keeping watch over his friend, let out a startled yelp as the door was thrown open. His chair, which had been tilted on its two legs, against that same door, flipped backwards, spilling the gunfighter inside at the gambler's feet.

Seeing the cocked weapon in the gambler's hand, he yelled, "Ezra it's Buck!" Rolling to avoid the weapon pointed in his direction, keeping his hands away from his own gunbelt, he carefully climbed to his feet as the gambler blinked several time and finally lowered his gun slightly. "Ezra, you okay?"

Blinking rapidly, the con man without warning vaulted the over turned chair and rushed down the stairs, his rapid breaths bordering on sobs.

Wilmington caught up with the distraught gambler as he reached the saloon's front entrance. Not sure what was happening, but not willing to let the cardsharp run into the street, Buck grabbed the smaller man, wrapping his arms around him, effectively pinning the gambler's arms at his sides.

Ezra struggled violently against him, trying to break free of the strong grasp. He didn't want to hurt Buck but he couldn't let Cole get a hold of Tanner. "Vin...! Gotta help Vin...! Pleeease!"

Buck held him securely, keeping his voice even as he tried to talk sense to the tormented man. "Ezra! It's just a dream... It's just a dream... Vin's fine." He repeated, feeling the smaller man's struggles weaken. "It's a dream, Vin's fine."

Ezra continued to shake his head. "Vin... Gotta... help..."

"He's alright Ez, I promise." Buck continued the reassuring litany slowly loosening his hold. "Give ya my word Ez, Vin's just fine." Gently tugging the Remington from the gambler's hand, he steered the southerner over to the bar. "Chris asked him to stay at the boardin' house till this Cole fella is caught... He's probably over there snorin' away. Ya got my word Ez, he's fine." Reaching across the bar the ladies' man snagged a bottle of whiskey and a glass, quickly pouring a shot and shoving it into the gambler's trembling hand. "Musta been a helluva dream."

"Dream...?" His breathing slowly returning to normal, Ezra tossed back the shot and raking a hand through his sleep tousled hair, stared at the mustached gunslinger in confusion.

"Come on Pard, let's get ya back upstairs afore someone thinks this place is open and expects us ta play barkeep." He led the barefoot gambler back up the stairs.

"Why...?" Ezra looked even more confused as Wilmington shoved the over turned chair out of the way and moved to the dresser pulling a nightshirt out of a drawer. He was surprised to see other than a couple of nightshirts the drawer was empty.

"Here Ez. this'll be more comfortable than sleepin' in yer clothes." Laying the conman's weapon on the nightstand, his eyes filled with worry as the gambler absently took the offered nightshirt. "Ya get some sleep... Ol' Buck'll be right outside the door ta keep anybody from botherin' ya."

Ignoring the nightshirt, the smaller man curled up on the quilt and closed his eyes. He understood what Buck was trying to do but the happy go lucky man could offer little protection from the nightmare visions which haunted Ezra's sleep.

Buck watched until the gambler's breathing evened out in sleep, then quietly crossing the room, he tucked the blanket about the man and with a soft sigh, returned to his post outside the door.

*******

As they entered the saloon, Chris nudged Vin, nodding to their usual table where Buck sat dozing, his chair tilted back against the wall. Approaching the bar, the blond man looked questioningly at the Spanish barmaid.

"He was there when I came downstairs," Inez responded with a shrug, keeping her voice low, as she poured three cups of coffee. "I did not have the heart to wake him."

Chris grinned, an impish twinkle coming to his normally somber eyes. "We'll take care of it."

Setting the coffee mugs on the table, the two men quietly moved to position themselves on either side of Wilmington's chair and with a wicked grin, Vin leaned down and gently blew in the amorous gunfighter's ear.

"Give me a minute Molly... need a... nap..." Wilmington mumbled, smiling slightly as the tracker again blew in his ear. "C'mon darlin'... One... min..."

Chris choked back his laughter as he eased his gun from its holster. Holding the weapon near his oldest friend's ear he clicked back the hammer.

Buck's eyes flew open, his arms pinwheeled as his booted foot smacked against the table, sloshing coffee over the rims, as his sudden shift in weight caused the now unbalanced chair legs to slide. Only Larabee and Tanner's quick grabs kept the chair from coming completely out from under the startled peacekeeper.

Righting the chair and its occupant, Vin grinned lazily. "Must a reckoned Miss Molly wasn't gonna take no for an answer."

"Damn ya Larabee iffen I'd hit the floor again, I'd a had ta fill ya both full a holes." Buck grumbled, reaching for what was left in the coffee mug in front of him.

The two perpetrators finally got their laughter under control and settled into chairs beside the scowling ladies' man. It was obvious Buck had not had a good night and they both knew it had nothing to do with Miss Molly.

Buck toyed with the coffee mug. Josiah had relieved him a couple hours earlier but still worried about the gambler, Wilmington found himself unable to sleep and wanting to be near if he was needed. Leaving the door to the gambler's room open a crack, he'd listened to the conman toss and turn, the rest of the night, occasionally mumbling incoherently.

"Whatda ya mean again?" Chris pried as he tried to smother another laugh. "Molly throw ya on the floor often?"

With a shake of his head, Buck quickly related the gambler's reaction to the nightmare he had suffered. "...Don't know what would a happened iffen he'd made it ta the wagon and not found Vin there... Ain't never seen Ezra so shook about a threat before." He scrubbed at his eyes. "Usually he just shrugs things like that off with a smart ass comment."

"Awww hell Pard." The sharpshooter groaned, setting the cup aside and leaning back in the chair. "Shoulda knowed it... Shoulda knowed that's what I's seein'... Damn! How the hell could I a been so stupid..."

The two men stared at the Texan, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Ya wanna keep beatin' yourself up or tell us what the hell yer talkin' about so we can join in?" Chris questioned.

Vin ran his fingers through his long hair. "What he's hidin... Ain't fer sure but makes sense... We gotta get him ta talk bout the threats..."

Wilmington leaned back in his chair with a snort. "Like that's gonna happen." He scoffed. "Ya know full well iffen Ezra don't wanna talk about something he'll either get sarcastic as hell or he'll use so many fancy words, nobody'll understand him anyway."

"Buck's right though," Larabee conceded. "Ain't never seen him run cause of a threat. Hell that first day we met, we all saw him take on a whole saloon of pissed off men he'd suckered." He scrubbed a hand through his short hair. "Hell, when I threaten him... and everyone else has sense enough to take my threats seriously... he just looks at me and grins... Drives me nuts!"

Tanner shook his head, his voice low as he murmured, "He ain't scared Jake Cole's gonna hurt him..." Anguish filled Vin's expressive blue eyes. "He's scared ta death Cole's gonna hurt one a us."

*******

Within the hour, Nathan and JD had joined the three around the somber table. Josiah, hearing the gambler moving about his room and knowing the private man would be embarrassed at finding him standing guard, came down the stairs, chair in hand to join them. The preacher placed the chair down next to Nathan and dropped into it. "He's movin' about." He offered to no one in particular as he poured himself a cup of coffee and took a long swallow.

'Either hell just froze over or he hardly slept.' The healer kept the thought to himself.

Larabee quickly filled them in on the information he and Vin had gotten from the gambler the previous evening.

As soon as he had finished, Nathan crossed to the bar, speaking quietly with Inez before returning with the coffee pot and an extra cup.

Josiah hid a smile behind his coffee mug. "Fraid ya just wasted your money Brother Nathan. Ya know Ezra don't eat breakfast."

"That's cause he ain't usually up till lunch time." JD's grin faded as the gambler came down the stairs. The conman's usually impeccable appearance was marred by the dark circles under his eyes and the tight lines around his mouth. Pushing out a chair, the youngest member questioned, "Sleep well Ezra?" For a change, Buck didn't slap him for his curiosity.

Ezra forced a small unfelt smile, "Exceptionally well."

The gambler settled into the empty chair as Nathan shoved the cup of coffee at him, his steely gaze inconspicuously raked over the tracker assuring himself his friend was indeed healthy and uninjured.

Buck exchanged puzzled looks with Chris and Vin. They were all aware of the gambler's ability at deception but it was as if he'd wiped the previous night's incident from his mind.

"Mr. Wilmington, if Miss Molly's headache is no better this morning, I'm sure Nathan has some powder that will help."

Buck's frown deepened with confusion. "Headache...? Molly?"

"I assumed the blessed silence last night was due to her not feeling well." The con man hid his smile behind the coffee cup as the others chuckled. The smile was quickly replaced by a frown as he looked up in confusion at Inez who placed a plate containing an egg, two slices of bacon and two biscuits covered with butter and jam in front of him. "I didn't order-"

"I did." Nathan interjected, stopping the gambler from pushing the plate away. "It ain't that much so eat it."

"Thank you Mr. Jackson but I don't normally partake of a morning meal."

"Well the last few days ya ain't normally partook of any meals," Nathan argued, "So ya can eat it or I can have the fellas hold ya down and force feed ya."

The green eyes took on an hardened look at the healer's threat. "I don't take well to-"

"Ezra!" Chris leaned closer to the protesting man and whispered in his ear.

The conman's expression softened and he almost looked ashamed at whatever Chris had said. "You are of course correct Mr. Larabee." He admitted as with a weary sigh, he picked up the fork staring at the plate as if it were full of rattlesnakes before forcing himself to eat. Trying not to stare, amazed at the gambler's capitulation, the other men focused their attention on their own plates.

Josiah stifled a grin and seeing Vin duck his head slightly, knew the tracker had also observed the conman's slight of hand as he slipped the bacon and one of the biscuits onto Buck's plate. No one said as word as Chris, with a patient fatherly sigh, reached over and firmly placed one of the slices back onto the southerner's plate earning a pained put upon look of derision from the gambler.

*******

"Thank you Mr. Jackson. That was very... nutritious." Ezra smiled, turning on the charm for Inez as she came to gather the dishes. "Delicious Inez as always."

As the pretty dark haired woman beamed him a smile and returned to the kitchen, Chris leaned back lighting a cheroot. "We need ta talk Ezra."

The gambler gave him a childish pout. "As you saw I cleaned my plate, Daddy, so just what is it we need to discuss?"

Larabee shook his head slightly at the sarcastic sobriquet as the others roared with laughter. It was good to see a glimpse of the obstinate con man who always seemed to have a smart ass answer for everything, especially Larabee. Chris hated being the cause of more distress to the younger man by bringing up a subject he was sure would cause Ezra to balk but also knew there was no time to put it off. "Jake Cole."

The gambler stiffened, the tension settling over the table as thick and cold as a sudden winter blizzard's blanket of snow and ice. Needing time to think the southerner ran a thumb over his lower lip, the only nervous habit the six peacekeepers had ever noticed him having.

Ezra had hoped to put off announcing his decision... Hell, he'd hoped to slip quietly out of town that afternoon without having to face his friends but evidently that plan had once again been thwarted. These men had no intention of making it easy for him to leave. He had to concede whether he was here or not, his friends had a right to any information which would enable them to protect themselves from the cruel man he was certain was coming to Four Corners. As surely as Tanner could read the sign and know the weather, he himself. knew Cole would be descending on this town like a biblical plague.

He firmly settled his poker face into place. "And just what is it about Jake Cole you wish to discuss?"

Chris' one clipped word said it all, "Everything."

No one was surprised to see the deck of cards magically appear in the gambler's hand. Those fifty two pieces of pasteboard were the gambler's security blanket. As a religious person might finger their rosary, unconsciously, he shuffled and cut the cards, bringing the Ace of Spades to the top of the deck. They waited silently, knowing he would talk when he was ready.

His eyes down cast, still continuing the incessant shuffling, Ezra cleared his throat and spoke softly. "Other than what I told you and Mr. Tanner, last evening, there really isn't much I can say about the man... I first met Jake Cole when I testified against his twin brother for the brutal murders of Catherine and Angela Cross... It seems he and his brother, not having the brains of one person between them decided to rob the bank in a town a few miles from where Sam had recently robbed the stage." Ezra's voice was controlled and eerily neutral as if he were discussing an everyday occurrence but Vin noticed the slight tremor that streaked through his body. "My understanding is a posse followed them back to an old ranch house they were using... whether it was abandoned before they arrived or after was never fully determined... I was later informed most of the men riding with the Cole brothers were killed when they thought it more prudent to fight than face the hangman... I can tell you if Jake is anything at all like his brother he's an insane, cruel, cold blooded maniac who will do whatever he deems necessary to achieve his goal."

"What goal?" JD questioned hesitantly, knowing the answer.

"If one is to consider his threats with any degree of credibility, his goal is to kill me... as slowly and painfully as possible." Ezra graced the youngest member of their band with a small smile. "Don't worry my young friend, I have no intentions of allowing that to happen." Returning the cards to his vest pocket, Ezra turned his somber gaze to their leader, rising to his feet. "I've made my decision Mr. Larabee... I will no longer jeopardize any of you further by remaining here. I... I... it's been a pleasure and a privilege-"

"We ain't lettin' ya leave Ezra, so ya might as well plant yer ass back down in that chair." Chris interrupted, his tone one of pure steel. "Ya can get the idea of headin' out right outta your head cause if I have to lock your skinny stubborn southern ass in the jail that's what I'll do cause you're stayin' right here with us."

Shocked, Ezra dropped back into the chair. Lifting his chin, he stared at Larabee in defiance, his green eyes flashing with anger. "You're an intelligent man Mr. Larabee so act like it!" He slammed a fist against the table. As if realizing he'd come close to losing his emotional control he glanced around the nearly empty saloon before turning back to the gunslinger. Licking his lips, he spoke in a lower controlled voice. "Tell me, sir, have you suddenly gone deaf or do you only hear what you choose to hear?"

"Guess that's somethin we have in common." Chris' expression was as serious as Ezra's but the twinkle in the hazel eyes brightened as the gambler continued to stare him down.

Ezra suddenly began to chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Are ya sure you're from Indiana Mr. Larabee...? I have been told only those born in the south are as stubborn as two headed mules."

"Somethin else we seem to have in common." Larabee refilled both cups before bringing his gaze up to meet the conman's again. His voice was low and somber as he questioned gently, "What did he really threaten ya with Ezra...? Your family...? Your friends...? What...? The truth Ezra. That's why ya made Maude leave ain't it?"

"Mr. Larabee I would deeply appreciate it if you'd just mind your own damn business." Ezra jumped to his feet, this time toppling the chair with the force of his movement. . "I no longer wish to discuss this subject. As Mr. Tanner so sagely pointed out last night, ya can't force me to stay." Needing to release his emotions, he gave the chair a vicious kick, knocking it out of his path, as he turned and bolted for the stairs.

"Also told ya we didn't want ya to go." Vin's quiet words carried across the saloon.

One hand on the banister, his foot resting on the bottom step, Ezra closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying desperately to hold onto the anger. He needed that anger burning in him to do what he knew was necessary. He needed the bitter anger to do the only thing he was certain would save his friends' lives.

He dropped his chin to his chest. "If I stay and he manages to elude the law long enough to arrive at this little... corner of paradise... you will die... Do none of you comprehend plain English?" His voice broke.

"Hell Ez, when did ya ever speak plain English?" Buck teased, deeper emotions in his tone. Pushing to his feet, he crossed to where Ezra still stood with his back to them. "Come on Pard... Let us help."

Ezra shook his head, not looking at the man or turning around. "Not this time." He whispered.

"You're right about that Standish!" Chris called out as he violently shoved back from the table and followed as Ezra sought to escape up the stairs.

"Chris-" Wilmington reached out to grab his friend's arm, knowing what an asshole Larabee could be when riled and there was no question the man was riled, not so much by the stubborn gambler but by the circumstances.

"Back off Buck!" Larabee snarled as he shrugged off the restraining hand and marched up the stairs, his spine ram rod straight, ready to do battle if that's what it would take for the gambler to see the light.

The five peacekeepers cringed and held their breaths, fully expecting to hear gunshots and the sound of Larabee's body hitting the floor, as they heard Ezra's door violently slam against the wall.

*******

Startled, not believing the gunman's audacity, Ezra stood, carpet bag in hand, as the door suddenly flew open, banging back against the wall. Larabee stood in the doorway like a vengeful demon from hell, his angry eyes almost the same color as the gambler's.

"Ya ever heard of knockin'?" The harsh words were out of his mouth before Ezra realized it would be healthier to glue his lips shut. "Your manners are deplorable."

"Damnit Ezra, just shut the fuck up and sit down!" Chris growled, shoving the smaller man backward with a strong hand to his chest.

"I would advise you to keep your hands off me, sir." Ezra's frigid demand matched Larabee's, his emerald eyes darkening with barely controlled anger. "I don't appreciate being manhandled by anyone!"

"What the hell ya gonna do, if I don't?" Chris taunted, shoving him backwards again. He wanted to make the gambler angry. Wanted to rile the man into action. "What the fuck ya gonna do huh? Gonna shoot me?" He snickered mockingly. "I don't think so... That's not how you deal with your problems is it...? No, not Ezra Stand-"

Larabee's head snapped sideways as the gambler's fist connected with his jaw, sending him stumbling to his knees against the wall. Pushing to his feet, Larabee grinned, rubbing his chin and maneuvering his jaw. "Feel better?"

The gambler studied him a moment, his own smile growing. "Yeah... Actually I believe I do."

"Good. Now sit your stubborn southern ass down and listen to what I got to say." Chris pushed the con man toward the rocker, waiting until he was seated, before closing the door and taking a seat on the side of the bed. He eyed the gambler as he rubbed his jaw again. Damn, he'd expected the punch and knew the conman's reactions were quick but he hadn't even seen it coming. He pinned the gambler with his steady stare, all seriousness. "Ezra, I want ya ta listen ta me..."

"Please don't try to change my mind Chris." Ezra pleaded, unaware he'd used the man's given name. "I know ya think I'm runnin' out on ya again, but this is different... I almost got ya killed when we went up against Anderson... I didn't even know ya then... Don't ya understand? Now that I do, I can't be responsible for any of ya gettin hurt... Please...

"Bout time ya let that go Ezra... Only thing that matters now is ya come back... Ya saved our asses and ya helped save that village... Don'tcha think it's time ta stop feelin' guilty?"

Ezra shook his head, not meeting the man's hazel eyed stare. "I'll have plenty ta feel guilty about if I stay here..."

"Aww hell, Ezra, ya've proved time and again we can trust ya... Ya been there ta help every time one of us needed ya... All we're askin is for ya to let us be there to help you." Larabee could see the gambler wanted to agree. His fear for these men he had come to accept as friends and his need to protect them at any cost was overriding his desire to stay in the town he'd come to think of as his haven... as his home. His fear was overriding the seemingly irrational and probably never before experienced longing to remain with the people he thought of as his surrogate family.

The gambler stared at the floor, twisting his hands nervously. "That day in court..." Ezra's barely audible voice shook with emotion, realizing he had to make Larabee understand what would happen. "The day the judge pronounced sentence... as they led Cole outta the saloon... Jake..." His voice hitched and he swallowed hard, as he continued softly, "he told me... he swore... before he killed me... he'd make me watch..." A shudder rippled through the southerner. "I'd watch... everybody I cared about... suffer..."

"Tell ya what Ezra..." Chris reached over and gently tugged the deck of playing cards from Ezra's pocket, swiftly fanning them out on the quilt top beside him. "We'll cut for high card... I win... you stay and we do things my way... You win, I won't try ta stop ya from leavin'..."

Standish studied the shootist intently searching for Larabee's angle. What advantage could the man possibly see in this endeavor? This was going to be easier than he thought. "You do understand, sir, you're not only gambling with your own life but those of our esteemed associates, as well. Don't ya think you should ask them how they feel about it?"

"We feel fine about it." Buck's voice interrupted, carrying through the wooden barrier and both men had to chuckle picturing the other five men with their ears pressed to the door.

"You have a deal Mr. Larabee." He nodded towards the cards. "Would you care to pick first?"

"Be my guest."

Ezra leaned forward and slowly trailed his long fingers over the cards, a frown furrowing his brow as he glanced up from the cards to observe Larabee watching him studiously.

Chris dropped his gaze to the slender fingers as they brushed over the cards, trying hard to hide the glee shining in his hazel eyes. "Somethin wrong there Ezra?" He questioned drolly.

"Of course not." Standish muttered as he focused his concentration on the cards finally pulling one from near the center of the line. Jack of Hearts.

Chris locked his hazel gaze on Ezra's emerald eyes seeing the obvious suspicion flickering there as he took a deep breath and quickly yanked a card from the deck, slowly raising it to face the gambler. He stifled a laugh at the conman's wide eyed look of disbelief. Ace of Spades.

Gaining his feet and smiling widely, Chris handed the stunned gambler the card and slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "I'll see ya downstairs as soon as ya finish unpackin'. We got plans ta make."

*******

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, JD turned and waylaid Larabee. "How'd ya do it Chris?" JD asked, excitedly. "Ezra can pull that ace outta the deck just thinkin' about it!"

"That he can," the gunslinger agreed, "but not if it ain't there." Chris had known the ace was on top when he pulled the deck from Ezra's pocket and had simply palmed the card when he spread them out on the bed. It was a simple trick he'd learned from a gambler who'd spent a couple of days in their jail courtesy of Standish, after the cardsharp had caught him cheating the townspeople. Larabee knew of all the things, Standish planned for, it was the last thing the conman would have expected from Chris.

"Ya cheated?" Buck roared with laughter, relief flooding through him. He'd known Larabee long enough to understand the man would do everything possible to protect those he cared about, but the fact he'd successfully cheated a man who was an expert at spotting the less then honest efforts in others surprised him. He slapped Chris on the shoulder. "I gotta whole new respect for ya Chris... Just gonna hafta make sure I watch real close when we play cards from now on."

Chris shrugged lightly, "Whatever it takes to keep him here..."

"Yeah, well, what I wanna know is how ya got him to eat breakfast?" Nathan questioned.

Chris took a swallow from the coffee mug Vin shoved in his direction. He would have preferred whiskey, but realized he needed a clear head as he explained patiently, "Ezra is a gentleman and I simply pointed out that it would be bad manners to waste the food after you had spent hard earned money you could little afford to pay for it." Larabee shrugged. "As Maude pointed out, guilt works every time."

The healer ducked his head, embarrassed as he admitted, "Uh... yeah... 'Cept I had Inez put it on his tab."

Buck roared with laughter again, wondering when his friends had become such sneaky, conniving men. "Looks like Ezra's had a bad influence on ya'll."

*******

Chris looked up with a smile as Ezra rejoined them at the table.

The gambler accepted the fresh cup of coffee which JD poured. With a nod of thanks to the young man, he turned his attention to the blond gunslinger. "If I could prove you cheated Mr. Larabee, our agreement would be null and void." The green eyes twinkled with merriment. "As it is, I would like to know where an honest man such as yourself learned to palm cards with such ability. Surely it is not the company you have been keepin' of late."

"A man has to have some secrets." The laughter was relaxed and easy when Larabee threw the gambler's words back at him.

"Chris I'm assuming since you talked our black sheep here, into remaining in the fold," Josiah placed a large hand on Ezra's shoulder, "you have a plan to put his mind at ease regarding everyone's safety."

Larabee nodded, taking a sip of his coffee before speaking. "First, we're not sure Jake Cole is even coming here." The gunslinger met Ezra's steady gaze, hoping to offer reassurance. "Second, if he does he's not gonna wanna hang around any longer than necessary. That means he's gonna be looking and listenin' for any information on Ezra or his whereabouts."

"Best place to find information in a new town is at the saloon or the general store." Vin offered, drawing on his own bounty hunting experiences.

"Yep, but just to be on the safe side and putting the odds in our favor we're gonna hit every business in town. I want everyone on alert for this fool and I wanna know if any... and I do mean any... strangers come around askin' questions about Ezra or any of us for that matter." The gunslinger's hazel eyed gaze hardened as they came to rest on each man at the table. "Until this bastard's caught, nobody... nobody... goes anywhere alone... That especially means you, Ezra."

Expecting an argument from the tenacious cardsharp, they were all surprised when none was forthcoming, as the gambler held his tongue, giving Larabee a nod.

"Okay, ya'll know what Cole looks like so let's find out if the son of a bitch has been anywhere near here..." As the men stood to scatter about the town, Larabee added, "Not you, Buck. You go get some shut eye."

"Oh, and Mr. Wilmington?" They all turned around as the conman called out to the ladies man. "Ya might wanna visit with Miss Molly while ya have the chance." Ezra commented innocently. "With Mr. Larabee's latest orders, I expect it'll be awhile before she'll welcome ya into her private chambers. She doesn't strike me as the type who enjoys... an audience." His smile widened as the other men laughed and Buck groaned.

"Awww hell..."

*******

"Somethin's gotta give soon," Vin commented glancing to where the gambler sat at his usual table dealing another round of cards. "He's gettin as jumpy as those frogs he was readin' 'bout the other day."

"Frogs?" Nathan looked at the sharpshooter in disbelief, finding it amazing that the well read conman would spend time reading about amphibians. "What frogs?"

"Ya know... the ones in that jumpin' contest they held in Calla... whatever the hell county." Tanner explained with patience that not everyone knew of Twain's jumping frogs.

A package containing the book for Ezra had arrived a few days earlier. Maude had evidently mailed it from the first train stop. An encoded message inscribed on the inside cover informed the gambler where she could be reached if needed and there were two hastily written letters inside. One for Ezra, the other for Chris.

Vin sighed heavily, "Sure wished I'd seen them frogs... Must a been somethin'." It seemed since the sharpshooter had finally begun to master the skill of putting letters together in the form of words, he happily struggled with every bit of reading material he could lay his hands on.

Chris glanced toward the cardsharp's table quickly scanning the faces of the other players before focusing on the gambler, himself. Even facing the opposite direction from his stare, he noticed Ezra's back stiffen slightly as if he was suddenly aware of the gunslinger's scrutiny. Chris pulled his gaze away, his dark eyes roaming the saloon, registering each person, but his thoughts remained on Ezra.

To anyone who didn't know the man well, Ezra appeared as calm and cool as a soothing spring breeze but looks could be deceiving, and deception was a craft in which Ezra excelled. Having worked and fought beside the stalwart gambler for so long it was obvious to the other peacekeepers, the conman was rapidly reaching the end of his rope.

"He's wound up tighter than a two bit watch." Chris remarked softly, turning his attention to the dark healer. "Ya got anything to help him sleep?"

Nathan nodded and licked at his lips. "Yeah but gettin him to take it is somethin else altogether."

"He'll take it." A sly smile touched Larabee's lips.

*******

With an inward sigh, Ezra handed Dan Evers the two cards requested, announcing he'd play the ones dealt, distinctly aware of the worried gazes focused on his back from the peacekeeper's table.

It had been over a week since he'd lost the bet to Chris, thereby keeping him in Four Corners and in that time it seemed the only way he found himself alone was by going to the privy or retiring for the night. Even then, he was aware, there was someone always outside the locked door.

Chris and Vin seemed to have appointed themselves his guardian angels, one or both always within arm's length and the other four were always within sight. The constant companionship, his persistent worry over Jake Cole's inevitable appearance, his overpowering fear for his friends and his chronic lack of sleep had the normally placid gambler's already frazzled nerves nearly to the breaking point. The other men accepted his biting sarcasm with grace knowing it was brought about by his anger and frustration at a situation he couldn't control.

Ezra couldn't remember the last time he'd slept more than a few minutes at a time. He had come to dread closing his eyes, almost immediately thrown into nightmares of his friends falling victim to Jake Cole's sadistic methods of torture before he was forced to watch them die, helpless to prevent their suffering or their senseless deaths.

He knew these men would die to protect him just as he would give his life for any and all of them but the thought of living because one or more of them had been sacrificed was something he found incomprehensible. Bet or no bet, having given his word or not, he had to find a way to get out of the territory before it was too late.

*******

The crowd had finally thinned out and left and the saloon was closed as Ezra moved from his table approaching his friends. They were gathered at their usual table, killing the last of a whiskey bottle.

"How'd ya do Ez?" Vin asked passing the gambler the last shot of whiskey.

"Sufficiently well, Mr. Tanner." He sipped at the whiskey to keep from shouting at them to stop staring. "And which of you has the pleasure of being my guardian tonight?"

Buck held his hand in the air like a schoolboy in class. "JD's got first watch and I got second." He grinned. "And yeah we know it isn't necessary but up till now I'm still more afraid a Chris than you."

"Besides Ezra, it ain't like yer ya in jail..."

"Sure feels like it." The gambler sulked.

"We just wanna make sure nothing happens ta ya." JD continued what he'd been saying before Ezra interrupted..

"I appreciate that Mr. Dunne... Honestly I do. It's just..." Ezra squeezed the bridge of his nose, wishing the nagging headache which seemed to have decided to cling to him since Maude's arrival would cease. "I'm sorry gentlemen if I seem ungrateful-"

"No need ta apologize Brother." Josiah assured him. "We all understand."

"Everything." Chris added. Raising his glass in a mock toast, the gunslinger tossed back the fiery liquor pleased to see Ezra do the same.

"Hey Ez, tell Nathan bout them frogs ya was reading me bout." Vin urged. Their interest in Mark Twain's story gave them a reason to watch the gambler, each of them, smiling as the young conman yawned several times, struggling to keep his eyes open. When it became apparent the southerner was losing his battle with the sleeping powder they'd slipped into his drink, Josiah and Buck helped Ezra upstairs. JD followed to take his place outside the door.

"Sleepin' like a baby." Buck admitted with a grin when they returned to the table. They had barely removed his boots, coat, vest and guns, pulling his suspenders off his shoulders when the gambler's head fell forward, his handsome features relaxing in a deep dreamless sleep. Easing him back on the bed they'd tucked a quilt around him before heading back downstairs.

"Hopefully a good night's sleep'll help his mood." Chris sighed.

"Or maybe he'll jist figure out what we done and shoot all a us." Tanner grinned, copying Larabee's earlier gesture of the mock toast as the others laughed.

*******

Having taken over for JD earlier, Buck squirmed in the chair, outside Ezra's room, cursing himself for having that last beer. Damn! He'd never last another two hours until Inez was up and starting breakfast. Twisting around in the chair, he carefully opened the door, quietly calling the cardsharp's name, as he quickly glanced into the gambler's room. Ezra was still sleeping soundly, curled on his side the quilt pulled up to his chin. Easing the door closed, Wilmington made a quick decision and hurried down the stairs. Hell he'd just step outside the kitchen door and empty his bladder. It wasn't like there would be anyone around for him to offend.

With a deep sigh of relief, Wilmington fastened the buttons on his pants and fumbled for the door latch. A brief blinding pain exploded through his head as a heavy object slammed against the back of his skull, dropping him into blackness before his body collapsed to the ground.

*******

"Figured Buck would be down here keepin ya company by now." Chris smiled at Inez as she poured his and Vin's coffee. To date, Inez had successfully avoided becoming one of Wilmington's conquests. A fact which made the amorous gunfighter try all that much harder to win her affections.

The two men were later than normal arriving at the saloon. Mrs. Jenkins understanding the situation hadn't lectured them about having breakfast at the tavern lately but this morning she had reluctantly requested their assistance with some of the heavier chores before they left as her husband was under the weather. Upon finally leaving the boarding house they had checked the livery for any arrivals in the night and satisfied they knew each of the horse's owners had headed for the telegraph office, hoping for news of Jake Cole, nodding at merchants getting ready for the day's business before making their way to the saloon.

Inez paused to push a strand of hair from her face. "I have not been blessed with that pleasure yet this morning."

"Damn she sounds more like Ezra every day." The sharpshooter chuckled. "Want me ta see iffen he's ready for some coffee?"

"Nah... I'll do it." Chris set the cup on the table and started up the stairs. Vin and Inez exchanged knowing grins, realizing it was simply an excuse for the hardass gunfighter to check on the gambler.

Approaching Ezra's door and seeing the empty chair beside it, anger began to rise in the gunslinger. Fighting it, Chris quietly pushed open the door to Ezra's room, calling out a soft warning to the gambler before poking his head inside to discover the southerner still curled up under the quilt. There was no sign of his oldest friend.

Fear suddenly surged through him, replacing the anger. Closing the gambler's door, the gunslinger crossed the hall to Molly's room, telling himself Buck had finally fallen prey to the temptation of spending just a few minutes with the pretty saloon girl, as every instinct screamed he was wrong. He'd known Wilmington most of his life and knew Buck wouldn't risk Ezra's life to chase after a pretty skirt.

A shrill scream pierced the air as he raised his fist to knock on Molly's door. Spinning, Larabee ran down the steps, taking them two and three at a time in his rush to reach the lower level. Clearing the last step, he saw the sharpshooter had already dashed from his chair and was running for the back of the saloon, even as another scream for help tore through the morning's stillness.

Tanner reached the kitchen door first with Larabee right on his heels. They skidded to a halt, momentarily stunned at the sight of Inez struggling through the door, her arms wrapped around Buck's waist, as she tried valiantly to keep the big man on his feet.

Buck tried to cling to the doorframe to stay upright but his hands were tied and he began to slip from the small woman's grasp. His colorful bandana had been used as a gag and still muffled the gunman's groans of pain. His shirt was hanging in shredded tatters, so blood soaked, only spots of its original blue color shown through.

"Oh God!" Chris' words were hardly more than a stunned whisper, his heart racing as fear for his old friend pumped through his veins. He and Vin grabbed the gunfighter letting Inez move away when Wilmington's knees began to buckle.

Supporting the man, Chris carefully removed the gag while the sharpshooter pulled his knife and sliced through the ropes binding the gunman's wrists, allowing them to drape his arms around their shoulders for added support.

"Inez run and tell Nathan what happened and we're comin' up! Then fetch Josiah. Ask him ta come stay with Ez, till I get back." Once they got Buck to the clinic he'd relieve Josiah, so the preacher could help the healer.

Obeying Tanner, the barmaid, fled back out the door and down the alley as supporting the now unconscious womanizer between them, they slowly followed.

Concerned for the injured man, none of them noticed the gambler standing in the shadows of the kitchen, an expression of horror on his pale face, the hand holding the Remington trembling uncontrollably.

As the two men's voices faded, Ezra took several seconds to pull himself together, then stepped into the alley. Stooping by the door, he searched the ground, combining his limited knowledge of tracking with what Vin had been teaching him on patrol to piece together what had occurred. It wasn't as hard as he'd thought it was going to be. The gambler simply followed the spots of blood that had dripped from his friend's body and clothes.

"Good Lord!" At the bloody trail's end, the southerner dropped to his knees, clapping a hand over his mouth as bile rose in his throat. At the end of the narrow dirt thoroughfare, just before it turned toward the main street, a small stake had been driven into the ground. A large pool of still glistening blood was soaking into the hard dry earth. There were two deep grooves dug into the ground and he closed his eyes vividly imagining, Buck's hands tied to the stake, the heels of his boots digging those ruts into the alley's filth and grime as the man attempted to avoid the torture being inflicted on his body.

"Ezra?"

The gambler whirled, the weapon in his hand automatically coming up into firing position, slowly lowering it only when his eyes finally focused on the large form of the ex-priest. "Come on Ezra... let's go see Buck."

Seeing the pale complexion, fearing the cardsharp was going to be ill, Josiah gently bent down and took hold of the smaller man's arm. Pulling the unresisting southerner to his feet, the preacher slipped an arm around the thin shuddering shoulders and gently steered the conman toward the clinic.

*******

The soft jingle of Larabee's spurs mixed with the occasional sniffle from JD as the black clad gunslinger paced the clinic's small landing. Vin sat next to JD on the wooden bench, silently offering the worried youth comfort. The tracker's blue eyes kept straying to where the gambler sat on the top step his back turned to them, his shoulders hunched, his eyes glued on the weapon he still clutched so tightly in his hands.

The hustler had refused to meet their eyes, saying nothing, moving away if any of them got to close, finally sinking onto the step when Nathan threw them out of the clinic so he could work.

Tanner knew Ezra needed comfort as much as the young sheriff but even more he needed to be convinced what happened to Buck wasn't his fault. Vin made a move toward the gambler before sinking back onto the bench, realizing Ezra wasn't ready to hear it.

Vin had checked the alley after Josiah told them where he'd found the conman but other than coming to the same conclusions as Ezra he'd been unable to find any sign of the perpetrator. Catching Chris' eye, the tracker made a barely perceptible nod toward the gambler. Helping Ezra might take Larabee's mind off what was happening in the clinic.

The gunslinger's hazel eyed gaze settled on the despondent figure of the barefoot conman. Ezra was still wearing the wrinkled clothes of the previous evening, his suspenders hanging around his hips, a trembling hand nervously raking through his sleep tousled curls.

"Ezra?"

The gambler jerked away from the gentle hand that came to rest on his shoulder, almost toppling down the stairs. Regaining his balance, Standish spun to face Larabee, his expression clearly one of guilt, self-recrimination and something more... fear.

"I warned you Mr. Larabee... I told you but none of you would lis-" The words trailed off as Nathan stepped through the clinic door, drawing all their eyes to him.

The dark man sighed heavily as he massaged the back of his neck nervously. "He's gonna be okay." The healer assured them before anyone could ask. "It looked a lot worse than it was. Somebody cut him up pretty good but nothing really life threatening. Most a the cuts didn't even need stitchin'." There was a collective sigh of relief "He's gonna be all right but it's gonna be a while afore he's entertainin' the ladies again."

"This is Buck we're talkin' about." Chris smiled in a vain attempt to ease the tension. "Where there's a will, he'll find a way."

JD immediately started through the door when it opened again but the preacher's large hand gripped his upper arm stopping him.

"Ezra?" Josiah's quiet baritone drew the gambler's attention back to the door. "Buck wants ta see ya."

The southerner's emerald gaze darted everywhere, avoiding looking at the others. His mind told him to run, flee this town and the horror being brought down on them due to his own actions years earlier, while his heart argued his injured friend was asking for him, needed to see him. How could he face Buck, knowing it was because of him the fun-loving cowboy was now laying helpless in the clinic? What could he possibly say to the man? How could he begin to apologize?

Larabee seeing the indecision flooding across his face, made the decision for him, carefully placing a hand on the gambler's elbow, urging him into the clinic with a nod and small smile.

Showing his support as well, Josiah gave his shoulder an encouraging pat as he stepped over the threshold.

*******

Ezra cringed as Josiah closed the door, fighting the urge to fling the wooden barrier aside and escape the sickroom rather than face the accusing eyes of the normally amiable gunfighter.

"Hey Pard..."

His heart breaking at the weak voice, Ezra took a deep breath to fortify himself and raised his eyes to meet Wilmington's sleepy, pain-filled gaze. He sucked in a breath at the sight of the large gunman, his torso and arms swathed in white bandages, spots of blood showing through in some places.

Buck licked his lips and almost whispered, "Wanted..."

Ezra couldn't stand it anymore. He knew what the man was going to say, knew he was going to blame him and rightfully so but he had to make Buck listen to him, to his apology. "I'm so sorry Buck...! I shoulda left..."

Buck slowly shook his head, grimacing with the effort. "Weren't yer f-fault... Wan..." Pain flashed across his face as Buck tried to find a more comfortable position.

Ezra rushed forward stopping at the side of the bed, uncertain what he could do to help.

Wilmington looked up into his face. "Wanna... couple favors... Ez."

"Anything, I can do Mr. Wilmington." As soon as the words left his mouth, the gambler realized the very composition of the sentence was a mistake and he hastily amended, "As long as it doesn't require my remaining in Four Corners, longer than it takes me to pack."

Buck's brows furrowed into a frown. "Ya always put conditions on... f-fav...ors?"

"I apologize but unfortunately without that stipulation, yourself and the others will remain in danger of losing your lives." Ezra hadn't realized he still held the Remington until he saw Buck's eyes follow the gun as he pointed at the man. "Again I apologize... You should be resting."

"Got... nothin' to be sor-ry for Ez... That's the first favor." Buck stated, trying to shift again with out putting any weight on his injured arms. "Want ya... stop... blamin' yerself... Hell... don't even know... who did this..."

"I have no doubt who inflicted the injuries upon your person or who is to blame." Ezra lowered his eyes, hating himself, hoping Buck wouldn't see through the lie he was about to utter. "However, if it will allow you to rest and speed your recovery I will accede to this favor."

"Damn Ez... can't ya... ever just say... okay?" The mustached man grinned.

"I believe ya said a couple of favors Mr. Wilmington. What might the second one be?" Ezra forced a smile.

"Keep an eye on... the kid till... I'm back on m-my f-feet." It was so like the gentle man to worry about the boy he'd taken under his wing, adopting as a younger brother.

Ezra chewed his lower lip. Damnit! He knew it! He had known they'd find a way to keep him here! This man wouldn't be laying here in pain if not for his desire to help the gambler and now he was asking for a favor that would continue to jeopardize the peacekeepers. Ezra knew he could argue that the others would look after JD but he was indebted to this man. In truth he was indebted to all of them. Damnation!

The con man could see the medicinal tea was taking effect as Buck fought to keep his eyes open. "Speaking of your young charge I'm sure he's pacing a hole in Nathan's balcony by now so it would be in all our best interest if we allowed him inside."

He moved for the door, but Buck's words halted his actions.

"Didn't... answer... m-me." Wilmington accused.

With a soft sigh, Ezra nodded once. "I will give it my best endeavor Mr. Wilmington."

"One m-more... th-thing... " Buck yawned. "Let me... get a-a... nap and... th-then... s-sneak Molly up here... would ya...? Only need... a... few... min...utes..."

Ezra smiled. Chris was right. 'Where there's a will, he'll find a way.'

*******

Chris stepped through the batwings, removing his slicker and shaking the rain from his hat, his gaze searching the dark saloon. The sudden thunderstorm had already turned the street to mud, sending the town's residents scurrying for cover. If he hadn't been searching for a way to reach the obstinate southerner who had begun withdrawing into himself, he and JD might not have been caught in the downpour a couple miles outside of town, while on patrol. It had been two days since Inez found the badly injured Buck bleeding in the alley. Two long days in which the gambler bit by bit had pulled farther into himself. It seemed as if only JD had been able to get near the conman without getting his head torn off or Ezra running for the privacy of his room.

The gambler had rushed from the clinic straight back to his room above the saloon, spending most of the morning behind the locked door. With JD sitting inside with Buck, Nathan had informed the other three, Wilmington's injuries had been for one reason and one reason only... to inflict pain.

Slouched against the wall, his thumbs hooked in his gunbelt, Vin shook his head. "Sorry Nate but yer wrong."

The others had