The afternoon slipped by with shimmering waves of heat. Buck had kicked his blankets off only to have them replaced repeatedly. With each bandage change Wilmington argued with a little more vehemence and strength. JD even let him sip water from one of the water skin bags, under Jackson's watchful eye. Dunne wrestled with supporting Wilmington's head until Chris came over to help. A peace offering to JD and re-assuring himself Buck was still ok.
Across the camp the gambler huddled under the blankets. Josiah and Vin had carried him down to the stream again. The fever seemed higher. Once again Sanchez sat in the stream holding onto the southerner with Vin waiting patiently on shore.
The tracker did not bother interfering with the ritual. Sanchez believed he needed penance. For what Vin could not be sure, but it was apparent Josiah had taken the gambler's illness somewhat personal. Vin held his tongue and watched. The answers would reveal themselves with time. There would be no need for intrusive questions.
Tanner watched as the southerner began to stir. He could not hear what was said but watched somewhat amused when Josiah let out a rolling laugh. Whatever they spoke of was short and to the point, unusual for Ezra. After a few minutes Sanchez gathered up the smaller man and brought him to shore. They wrapped him back in blankets and together the tracker and preacher carried the gambler back to camp.
Chris and Nathan had tended the animals. It was obvious they would not be able to stay in the canyon too long. There was no feed for the animals and the supplies that the men brought were only enough for a few days.
"How we gonna git them out of here?" Jackson asked. His gaze landed on Buck who once again fallen asleep and to the empty spot where Ezra had lain.
"Bin think'n on it," Larabee answered. He turned and gazed at Nathan, "any ideas?"
Jackson chuckled, "Nope."
Larabee nodded his head and watched with some amusement as Josiah and Vin wrestled themselves up the trail with the conman stretched out between them cocooned in blankets.
Healer and gunslinger watched the twosome for moment, "Ya think he's gonna make it?" Chris asked.
"Don't rightly know," Nathan responded in earnest, "ain't never seen the likes of that kind of poison before.....don't know how it acts."
Their quiet conversation was interrupted when Josiah spoke up, "Well brothers I think Ezra here is gonna do ok," The preacher smiled mischievously.
"Why ya say that Josiah?" JD asked. The kid hardly left Buck's side unless someone needed him to do something.
Sanchez's grin grew wider, "Cuz he jist asked me if his team won the bet."
"Shhhiiiiitttt," Chris drawled out a full fledge smirk flashed across his face.
"Damn man and his money," Jackson chuckled.
"Well?" JD asked. Who did win?
The night passed more smoothly for the seven. Buck bit back the pain that flared in his side. A smile seemed to lace his features whenever one of the others sat with him. It did not surprise Larabee in the least. Wilmington knew how to make people feel at ease. Buck hurt but there was no way he would share that pain with someone else. He kept it to himself.
Chris knew this and the others started to realize it. Water and broth were slowly introduced to Buck and much to everyone's relief it stayed down.
Buck was not out of danger but things were improving. If infection was held at bay, if he could hold food and if his guts, should they have been hit, did not rot out on him...then he would survive.
Jackson, as well as the others, knew there was alot of IF's involved.
The gambler still nodded in and out. Waking only briefly, not daring to move, fearing the violent riot his stomach and bowels might wreak on him. A fierce headache kept him quiet. His eyes hurt with the intrusion of light, his head pounded so severely that his teeth hurt. Most times he lay completely still on his side fearing what his body would do to him in return.
The whites of Standish's eyes had turned bright red, red freckles dotted his cheeks. At first this frightened Nathan. Was the conman slowly bleeding to death? Had the body's clotting gone haywire? After observing the southern man Jackson discerned the nature of the blood. The bouts of violent retching had burst the tiny blood vessels in his sclera. The headache only worsened.
Josiah kept his vigil on the gambler and Vin watched the preacher. Chris surveyed his men and wondered how he was getting them home. All Seven of them.
The answer presented itself the next morning. Buck had eaten a little more broth JD and Nathan offered him. His appetite was understandably diminished.
Josiah had succumbed to sleep leaving Vin watching over the conman. Larabee found them in a quiet conversation.
The headache must be loosening its grip. Good. It was unnatural for Standish to be so quiet.
Chris sipped his coffee and worked on the logistics of getting them all out of the canyon. They could send someone to town. It would be a day and a half trip if they did not stop for the night to town and then two days back. They did not have enough food to last that long. Besides even with a wagon they still had to traverse to the top of the canyon.
Larabee stared from Buck to Ezra. Neither man had the strength to lift their own heads off the ground let along walk or ride. Carry them? On what? Buck would probably start bleeding again. A travois? Trail was to narrow to risk it.
The answer came in the form of Silace and his son.
At the sound of approaching foot steps Chris rested his hand on his gun. Tanner flipped the safety off his mare’s leg and Nathan indiscriminately pulled a blade.
"Ahh there you are Mr. Larabee," Silace's jovial voice cut through the afternoon. Chris immediately recognized it and forced back a smile. Silace was the farrier for Four Corners. He was a large man with arms and neck speaking volumes of the man's occupation. There was not a human being in the surrounding area that matched good ole Silace in size. His boy, Hans, was a close replica. The son bore the same striking blond hair, same eyes and same height. Where his father had large bulging biceps and forearms, Hans had the sinewy strength of youth. The boy was still in his growing years. He was lean with a voracious appetite.
The four peacekeepers shared inquisitive looks. The horse shoer was far from home.
"Silace....Hans," Chris greeted.
"What brings ya way out here?" Nathan asked. Figured Josiah was sleeping, it left the civilities and burden of conversation to Jackson. Vin and Chris would just stare at the two newcomers and make them feel uncomfortable.
"Mrs. Travis thought there might be trouble," Hans answered. His father still struggled with the English.
Vin smirked at Chris. Larabee shot the tracker a silencing glare. He did not need them ribbing him about his pseudo relationship with Mary.
"Guess she was right," Hans said glancing around the small camp. Silace cuffed his son gently on the back of the head. Proper manners no matter what country needed heeding.
"Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Standish?..." Silace started to inquire but Nathan interrupted him. Jackson like the farrier. He came from overseas somewhere. His neck was as thick as his accent. Funny thing about the shoer though, he always smiling about something. Saw good in everything. Every horse had a redeeming quality even the raunchiest of nags.
"They're hanging in there," Nathan said.
"You bring a wagon?" Larabee cut to the chase. He would have time for polite conversation later.
"Ya," Silace returned. He liked Mr. Larabee. The man let you know where you stood with him. If he did not like you.....he shot you. Well maybe not that cut and dry but most times...Yes. There were times when Mr. Larabee threatened to shoot one of his men, the Gambler. Yes the Southerner would sometimes earn the gunslingers wrath. Then there was the time Mr. Larabee held a razor to Mr. Buck's throat and warned him of something. Yes, Mr. Larabee had a short temper but he was a forgiving man. Silace appreciated the gunslinger's black and white view of the world.
"It's on the West Rim," The shoer answered carefully choosing his words.
"We ground tied the horses," Hans answered, "and walked down to search for you."
"How'd you know where we were?" Nathan asked.
"Mary suggested we start here," Hans replied not missing the accusatory chuckle out of Vin. Nathan ducked his head and wiped something off his lip.
Chris glared at both men. Thank God Buck was sleeping.
"Ye should marry the woman, Chris," A weak Midwestern voice rang out softly a chuckle lacing the words.
"Shut up Buck," the retort matched the stern face.
Silace ignored the stern rebukes, verbal and otherwise. "I will have Hans bring the team to rest above us and then we go?" He did not want to linger in the likes of Devil's Canyon longer than necessary.
"Hans take JD with you," Chris ordered staring at the sheriff. Dunne needed a break. The kid had been walking on egg shells around everyone. He spent most of his time with Buck but if anyone needed anything JD got it. He was seeking forgiveness for things that did not deserve a second thought.
JD wanted to argue. He wanted to stay with Buck. What if Ezra died? Dunne's hesitation died in his throat. Chris was not listening to excuses.
A chill settled as the sunset in the horizon. Buck sipped more water from Nathan's canteen. His neck shook with exerstion.
"Buck jist let me do all the work," Jackson admonished. The ladies man was going to need all his strength tomorrow. Nathan could not be sure if Buck actually listened or if his waning strength finally gave out. After a few short moments Wilmington settled back against the bedroll without argument. The healer fixed the blankets around Buck's shoulders and adjusted the makeshift pillow. His color was coming back, though he still appeared pale. The greyish tinge of death had finally left him. The pain in his midsection had reduced itself to the immediate area of the bullet wound. The fever had been held in check. It lingered, however, in the background like a harbinger of doom.....storm clouds just sitting off the shore line waiting for prevailing winds.
"I'm fine Nathan go check on Ezra," Buck whispered. It took awhile but he had finally gotten Josiah to tell him what had happened after being shot. Chris was not talking, as was typical. Nathan avoided the conversation and acted as if he did not hear the question and Vin was busy with Silace during the latter part of the afternoon. Wilmington had finally threatened Josiah that he would crawl his way over to the Southerner to get answers if he had to.
Sanchez must have realized it was not an idle threat and related the tale the best he knew it.
In the end Buck asked, "Is he gonna live?"
Sanchez answered honestly, "Don't rightly know."
It was now dark and Buck wrestled with the idea he might lose one of the others. Contemplating such a loss ebbed his strength. Jackson saw this and quietly answered, "Buck he's not been sick all afternoon. He keeps that up and tomorrow we'll give him some water." Nathan hoped this would ease Wilmington's mind.
"Nathan, that stuff lingers in ya for days," Buck replied. He had known people who had mistakenly eaten the seeds before. They had not died but boy they sure wished they had. From the sounds of it though, the coffee was laddened with the poison. Standish was as tough as shoe leather, though appearances would hint otherwise. Still that much poison, being that sick for that long....a body could only take so much.
"Can't ya give him some water now?" Buck asked his eyes traveling passed the wrinkle in the blanket covering him to the conman.
"Nope he might start gettin' sick again....his body can't afford that," Jackson said. He had answered the very same question from the others. The healer noticed the confused glance he received and explained, "If I give him some water and he gets sick again he's lost more than he gained....make sense?"
The confused expression remained in place though the eyelids appeared droopier. Nathan sighed, "Ok imagine it this way.....If every time I put a nickel in the Bank....Ezra would come along and take out a Double Eagle......I'd be losing money even though I'm puttin' some in to save."
Buck stared at him his eyes growing heavy and his mind muddled. Wilmington felt himself falling back to sleep but he needed to clarify one thing, "Nathan, Ezra would never steal money from ya," there was a slight pause, "without good reason," a small smile punctuated the statement.
Nathan shook his head in frustration. Why didn't they get it? JD had said the same thing. Of course, Ezra would not steal from him, but that was not the point of the example. Ohhhh they were frustrating people.
JD and Hans returned to the camp a few hours later. They dropped the supplies they brought down from the wagon next to the Tracker. Vin was cooking tonight.
The moon shone brightly across the canyon. An uncountable number of stars lit up the dark sky. The crackling of the fire was a welcoming sound. JD and Hans were starved. A rabbit or snake would taste good right about now.
"Horses are just above the rim in the clearing," Dunne said dropping with exaggerated exhaustion on his bed roll. "How's..."
"Buck's fine," Vin answered. He stirred a stew over the fire.
"Ya boys hungry?" Tanner asked.
Both men jumped to their feet as if they had not eaten in days.
Chris and Silace watched the two 'boys' with pride. With a little gentle persuasion and an occasional shove the two boys would grow to be fine men.
"Tomorrow we leave the canyon? Yes?" Silace asked.
Larabee bit off the end of a cheroot and spit it on the ground, "Yeaah," He drawled out not so sure of his answer. They would have to leave tomorrow, most likely morning. It was getting to hot too travel in the heat of the day.
The gunslinger turned his gaze toward the preacher and the gambler. Josiah had made it his personal crusade to tend Ezra. Chris was curious as to why but held his tongue. The gambler had not been sick since morning. Maybe the poison was leaving his system? Maybe the slippery SOB beat death just as Buck apparently had. Maybe...
Ezra felt terrible. Misery had settled down on him and taken up residence in his bones. He ached. Standish kept his eyes closed and ran his dry tongue over his even drier teeth. A thick foul tasting film filled his mouth. His head hurt but not with the same nauseating intensity it had before. At least he could move his tongue without creating piercing pain in his head. He moved a leg. Slid it actually, straightened it out. Muscles protested. They had become cramped and stiffened. He could not recall the last time he stretched out his legs. They seemed forever curled up against his midsection. With the movement of one leg, the twin thought it too should have the same rights and demanded movement. He slid the other leg, straightening it out. His stomach remained settled. His shoulder began to complain. He paused trying to discern why his shoulder would throb. Standish remained still trying to get his bearings with his eyes closed. His hip hurt too. After a few moments he realized he lay on his side.
Last time he tried to move he vomited all over himself. It was not something he wanted to repeat. The headache had finally taken a back seat to his other discomforts. The fear that retching might renew said headache kept him very still.
The shoulder and hip increased their volume of complaint.
Ezra delicately attempted to roll onto his back.
He could not. Standish sighed. He couldn't move. His headache had paralyzed him. Oh well. He would just lie here.....The shoulder and hip would not hear of it.
With a protesting groan, the gambler tried once again to relieve the pressure on the down side of his body. Whether it was the left or right side eluded him for the moment.
Josiah was brought out of his half slumber when Standish leaned against him. Sanchez unconsciously dropped a hand to the gamblers head, "Easy brother yer doin' jist fine." It was the same motions and words he had spoken all through last night. They seemed to have a calming effect on the younger man. Sanchez left his hand on the sweat drenched head without truly waking.
The pressure against his leg increased followed by a low groan.
Sanchez opened his eyes. The camp was asleep. Buck's bed roll was flanked by JD and Nathan's. Chris and Vin slept on either side of Josiah and Standish. Hans and his father had taken the opposite side of camp next to JD. The cook fire struggled for life. The coals were a bright orange with just a few yellowish flames curling in the gentle breeze. The preacher listened as the horses foraged just outside of camp, outside of the lighted hue cast by the fire.
His attention was pulled back to his charge. Standish was waking up. Figures, like the owls and creatures of the desert, Standish preferred nights. The form laying to Sanchez's left now pressed against the outside of Josiah's leg with a blanketed back.
"Ezra?" Josiah whispered out. He felt the gambler's forehead, then cheek and finally neck. Perspiration covered the younger man. His skin was cool and slick to touch.
"Ezra?" Josiah called softly again. There was no sign of fever. The pressure against Sanchez's leg increased as Standish pushed weakly against it.
"Ezra you awake brother?" Sanchez leaned over the smaller man trying to get a glimpse of his features.
"Josiah?" The thick southern accent masked the name skewing the pronunciation making it almost unrecognizable.
"Right here Ezra," Sanchez quickly offered a small heartfelt 'Thank you'.
"Shoulder hurts," Standish mumbled out still refusing to open his eyes. The breeze cut across his skin making him feel somewhat refreshed.
Josiah understood and simply slid over a few inches. He delicately helped roll the gambler onto his back. The preacher waited for any sign Standish might get sick again. Sanchez watched as the closed eyes remained shut and the dry tongue swipe at equally dry lips.
"Better?" He asked.
The answer was a soft snore.
Buck woke to the sounds of a breaking camp. He wanted nothing more than to help them. Lying here being helpless did not suit Wilmington. The Ladies man struggled to pull himself from the dregs of sleep. It was a task just to forced tired eyelids to peel themselves apart. The sky was still dark. The number of stars were greatly diminished and a greyish arc covered the eastern sky. Morning was coming but would not be upon them for another hour or so maybe more. Dew laced his blankets and the jacket he used as a pillow. He heard JD and someone else, Hans? maybe....lead the horses to water.
Why were they breaking camp. Was something wrong?
He tried to sit up but his midsection quickly and firmly put a stop to such foolish actions. He hissed out in pain and frustration.
"Let that be a lesson to ya," Chris said as he squatted down beside Wilmington, "jist lie still and let us do the work."
"What's goin' on?" Buck whispered out trying to get control over the burning ache in his side.
"We're headin' up to the ridge today and start back to town," Larabee answered. The decision had bothered him all night. He did not want to move Buck prematurely. He had already lost too much blood. Nathan did not even want to risk sitting Wilmington up too straight fearing he would just black out. Larabee tossed and turned over the notion of sending someone back to town for supplies but again the time it took to go and come back would still be to long. The horses needed feed and there was not enough game to keep nine men fed. Well eight if one were to leave and then counting Buck and Ezra's lack of appetite more like six men. There just was not enough food to last that long.
"Ezra gonna be up to it?" Buck asked.
Chris was not surprised by the question. Wilmington always put himself second to his friends. Here he was lying in some gawd forsaken canyon with a potentially lethal bullet wound and he was worried about the gambler. No, Larabee was not surprised at all.
"Yeah he'll be fine," Chris answered. "Fever broke last night and he's been holding his own since yesterday morning." Larabee had spoken with Josiah and Nathan earlier this morning. Standish was still had one foot in the grave but it seemed he found his footing.
"We're gonna be carrying you out," Chris held up his hand halting the protest that started to pour from Wilmington, "if it gets too much for ya jist speak up and we'll stop....ok?" Larabee stared down at Buck, "don't fight with me on this one Buck...ya gonna lose." His tone held no joviality, no kindness. Larabee would bind and gag Wilmington if he had to. This was too important to waste energy on needless argument.
Buck merely nodded his head. He did not have the strength to argue...not right now. When he was feeling better....Chris and he were going to have a little discussion.
Larabee straightened up and disappeared out of Buck's line of sight. Chris had seen that look before. Wilmington would take the directions now only because he did not have the strength to fight. When Buck was feeling better, Chris knew he would have the fight of his life on his hands. The blond gunslinger smiled. He would look forward to that day.
Silace and Josiah took the front end of the two poles, Nathan and Chris eached grabbed the back end of the poles. They had slung Wilmington in-between the poles resting on thick canvas. The two poles ran along the outer edge of the canvas creating a stretcher. The sun had just peaked over the trees. A cool breeze still whispered across the waking land. The sky had lightened from the grey of a false dawn to soft pinks and purples. The four men headed out of camp.
Buck woke briefly to the sudden movement but the laudanum Nathan had forced down him prevented the ladies man from fully awakening. It was going to be a steep hard climb out of the canyon for everyone.
Periodically Wilmington's glazed blue eyes would flutter open. With a detachment spawned from the opiate, Buck would attempt to sit up. During those infrequent times Larabee would merely place his hand over the ladies man face and force the mustached head back down. "Stay put Buck," inevitably followed.
Hans and JD had already left poning the horses and gear out and setting up a small fire at the top of the ridge. Once they got Wilmington out bandages would have to be changed again.
Vin stayed behind with Standish. For his part the gambler remained sleeping, slightly curled on one side. Tanner did his best to wipe the copious amount of sweat from the gambler. The tracker was somewhat amazed the gambler had any excess fluid left in him.
Late morning had crept up on the land. The dew had evaporated long ago. The sand had given up its morning damp coolness and started to warm up...uncomfortably so. Standish slept occasionally kicking some blankets off. The tracker quietly replaced them. The gambler would be still for a while longer and again shuck the covers, without looking up Vin merely pulled them back up. This went on for another hour.
Silace, Chris and Josiah returned with the stretcher.
"How is he?" Sanchez asked. He dropped down beside the gambler and felt for the fever. None. They would not risk giving him water now. They would wait until they reached the top.
Standish responded to the touch by weakly swatting at the intrusive hand, "Hot," he mumbled out once again pushing the blankets down off his bare shoulders.
"Gotta leave it on ya Ezra," Tanner softly explained pulling the blankets back up for the umpteenth time, "you'll burn under this sun."
"Ezra we're gonna carry ya out of the canyon," Chris said as he and Silace laid the canvas stretcher down beside the curled form, "its gonna git rough on ya, but just hold on and we'll be out in no time."
His only response was a muttled, "hot."
Sanchez smiled and together the four men placed the gambler in the stretcher. Their efforts were rewarded with a groan.
Jackson stared down at Wilmington as if he had lost what little brains he might have possessed.
"You are not riding in a saddle," Nathan retorted with uncharacteristic impatience.
"Nathan I'm feeling stronger," Buck explained slowly as if talking to a child who did not understand a basic principle.
Josiah saw that the healer was close to strangling Wilmington and felt it prudent to interfere. Chris and Vin sat back and watched the growing hostilities with amusement. Buck could be an ornery pig headed fool when he wanted to be.
When the Laudanum had finally worn off and he woke from a comfortable slumber, Buck had been a thorn. Chris and the others had just crested the trail head of the canyon with Standish only to find Nathan and Buck arguing.
JD and Hans had found it within their best interest to vacate the area and tend the horses.
"Ya'r not riding in a saddle Buck," Jackson bit out with vehemence. He had toiled night and day over the large Midwesterner. He would not sit idly by and let the fool kill himself. Jackson figured it was and should be within his rights to strangle Wilmington.
"I'm feelin' much better," Buck said, "thanks to you of course," he splashed a sickening sweet smile across his pale features. It did not have the desired results. Instead of softening up the healer it only served to further irritate him.
Josiah stepped in before Jackson undid all his hard work.
"Brother Buck if you can manage to sit up on yer own," Josiah reasoned winking at Jackson in a conspiratorial manner, "and git in the saddle on yer own you can ride back to town."
" 'Ey that's not fair," Standish muttered from place in the back of the wagon. Upon reaching the topside camp Silace and the others deposited their cargo immediately in the wagon. The force inwhich he had hit the bed boards was enough to roust the gambler from a comfortable midday nap.
"Yer best keep out of this Ezra," Vin whispered from over the edge of the wagon, "Nathan’s itchin’ fer a fight." Tanner chuckled as the conman quietly nestled his head back down on his jacket. If Jackson was looking for a fight he normally fixated on the southerner. Ezra thought he felt well enough to ride...not spar verbal or otherwise. He would hold his tongue. As he was contemplating the rewards of silence Standish slipped off once again to sleep. The tracker stayed by his side until Vin was sure the breathing was even and unlabored.
"Well.....we're waitin'," Nathan commented. His arms were folded across his chest and he tapped his foot in a hostile manner as he stared pointedly at the Ladies man.
There was a pause and a somewhat timid, "Ain't I sittin' up now?" Buck blinked open his eyes.
Josiah, Chris and Silace without further comment picked up the bedroll and Buck and gently laid him in the back of the wagon next to the gambler.
"You look like hell Mr. Wilmington," Standish muttered out behind closed eyelids, "not even JD was buying that ruse."
"Ezra,yer full of crap," Buck retorted. Damn he thought he had actually made it into a sitting position...amazing what a little dizziness could do to a person.
JD's voice peeped up, "Actually Buck....Ezra ain't full of nuthin', least of all....well um..ya git my meanin'."
Wilmington turned his attention to the young sheriff and then to the man lying beside him, "Ahh jeez Ezra I hope ya're feelin' better."
Josiah took the drivers seat on the buckboard. Sanchez snapped the reins chuckling at the dwindling commentary behind him. Chris and Vin took point. Nathan trailed behind the wagon threatening the two wayward souls with medical indignities if they did not lay still. Silace rode Buck's grey enjoying the smoothness and intelligence of the large gelding. Horse and rider matched skill and strength. JD and Hans raced out in front. Hans finally had a chance to ride the temperamental chestnut gelding. It had speed and attitude.
Josiah took the drivers seat on the buckboard. Sanchez snapped the reins chuckling at the dwindling commentary behind him. Chris and Vin took point. Nathan trailed behind the wagon threatening the two wayward souls with medical indignities if they did not lay still. The two Donavon horses had been tied to the wagon. Silace rode Buck's grey enjoying the smoothness and intelligence of the large gelding. Horse and rider matched skill and strength. JD and Hans raced out in front. Hans finally had a chance to ride the temperamental chestnut gelding. It had speed and attitude.
It was a two day ride back to town. They took it slow trying to avoid jousting the occupants of the wagons....for very different reasons. They camped the first night just on the outer reaches of the stream. Jackson and JD changed Buck's bandages. Together they forced more liquid and some bread down the Ladie's man. Wilmington ate hesitantly and staunchly refused the medicine Jackson urged him to take. Nathan gently explained to Buck that Laudanum if used correctly could aid in his recovery. Rest was the best thing for him and Buck could not sleep if he were in too much pain. Wilmington conceded grudgingly.
Josiah slowly introduced water to the gambler. Standish refused at first. He did not want to jepardize his slight reprieve from retching. He did not want to test his stomach. Ezra even tried flat out honesty...He was just not very hungry or thirsty.
Sanchez insisted. With a firm hand and more endurance than his captive the preacher dribbled a few sips of tepid water down the conman. When the water was tasted and stayed down...the flood gates opened. The body realized how dehydrated it had become and wanted to rectify the problem at once. One instant Josiah found himself gently forcing water on the gambler and a few minutes later he was holding the canteen just out of the gambler's desperate reach.
Josiah had been forced to hand the canteens to Chris.
Late that evening Larabee was pulled from his thoughts as a groan escaped from Wilmington. Chris sat quietly beside his friend letting his presence alone reassure the recovering Ladies man.
The next morning they started out late. Both Buck and Ezra slept deeply. Nathan did not want them disturbed. Standish's belly and midsection growled and gurgled threatening to return the small amount of water dropped on it the evening before. Sanchez and Tanner sat nearby waiting with clean blankets and clothing.
Midmorning saw the group back on the trail heading for town. It was unseasonably hot. They stopped at the stream to let the horses drink. Silace and Nathan carried a sleeping Buck across. Blood loss, laudanum, the low grade fever kept Wilmington out.
Larabee watched from a discreet distance. He trusted Nathan and Silace but sometimes Buck needed to see an old friendly face in order to relax.
The lurching and jarring of the wagon crossing the rocky stream bed would only do harm. Silace recrossed and helped Josiah with Standish. Ezra muttered he could walk across. Sanchez merely sat the gambler up. A sudden wave of dizziness halted any further argument from the conman.
Chris drove the team across while JD ponied the other horses. Once across they continued toward town.
Hans and JD rode head. Youthful impatience, the undesirable urge to ride fast set them ahead of everyone else. Nathan decided to put that to his advantage. He had directed the two young men to make sure the clinic was ready for their two ailing friends.
Buck slept through the directive. Standish heard it, though his stomach ached miserably (whether from hunger or the poison he could not be sure) he added his thoughts on Nathan's plans.
"I think Mr. Jackson...." He whispered out warily but was cut off by Jackson. "You ain't doin' any thinkin'...so jist lie there like Buck and shut yer trap," Jackson plasted an insincere smile on his face. The healer was not going to put up with any lip from those two. Jackson was getting ready to battle his two patience.
He would have the upper hand for a day or two but when their strength returned and Nathan realized he would be out numbered and out matched.
Nathan smile turned genuine when Ezra laid his head back on the coat and settled back down on his side. He still clutched at his midsection.
Jackson frowned with concern....fatigued muscles? lingering effects of the poison? hunger? or something else? Nathan watched the southerner for a bit. Standish blinked and stared at Buck's blanket. He drew his legs closer to his midsection and eventually drifted back to sleep.
They entered town two hours later. Buck lay blinking wide eyed trying to figure out where he was this time. Chris and Silace loomed over him smiling in a distorted kind of way. Wilmington furrowed his brow. He knew they carried him up stairs to Nathan's clinic but he did not seem to have the strength to complain or make a comment. Wilmington watched bleary eyed as the two men laid him down and pulled blankets up over him. He heard them talk, heard their voices but could not quite make heads or tails out of what they were saying. He tried to say something but succeeded only in mumbling. Silace and Chris both ignored him.
Down by the wagon Josiah and Vin dragged Standish out of the buckboard by his ankles. The simple movement jarred the conman awake. He struggled weakly to lash out at whoever grasped his feet.
"Easy Pard' we're jist gitt'n ya up ta Nathan's," Tanner chuckled as a pale bony ankle wrenched itself free.
Standish for his part struggled to raise his head off the bed roll. His muscles had put out enough effort the last few days and would not respond. Fatigue, dehydration and exhaustion had taken there toll.
"Nooo," He whispered out tiredly. Truth be told, at the moment he was quite comfortable in the back of the wagon. The sun and blankets were refreshingly warm and if he lay still his stomach would stop twisting itself into threatening knots.
"Come on Brother," Josiah chuckled out. It was good to see some fight back in their conman. Vin and Josiah slid him further to the edge of the wagon.
Ezra blinked more rapidly and realized what was happening whether he wanted it to or not. "Alright, alright, jist let me sit up for a moment," He whispered out tiredly. Every muscle in his body ached and each felt as if it were made of lead.
Tanner and Sanchez exchanged glances. Vin shrugged. Together they sat the conman up. He would have fallen to the side but both preacher and tracker kept a steadying hand on him.
Standish for his part sat slouched over forearms resting wearily on blanketed knees. He spit the ever increasing build up of saliva onto the ground. He did not wish to risk the hazards of swallowing.
"You doin' ok pard'?" Vin asked Ezra but stared at Josiah with worry. The preacher merely shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
"Yeahh," Standish drawled out slowly. Fine....He could barely hold his chin up and his hands shook.
"Lits git you up stairs," Josiah said. Together Vin and Josiah eached grabbed an arm and hauled the gambler to his bare feet. The wool blankets fell from his waist to the ground. It was then Ezra realized he wore pants....someone elses pants but at least he was clothed....well at least trousers. Not the it bothered him much right now. The impropriety of not being fully clothed or clothed at all was not something he bothered to give much thought to at the moment. Well at least not when one was contemplating vomiting all over oneself.
With shaking legs and questionable strength he struggled up the wooden steps to the clinic. Vin beside him holding his upper arm and Josiah behind them with his callused hand supporting the small of the gambler's back.
Twenty minutes later Jackson sat in a quiet clinic. Everyone had gone....well except the two sleeping forms residing in the beds.
Mrs Travis met Chris for an early dinner. A 'thankyou'' dinner arranged by Vin Tanner at the hotel. It seemed everyone involved knew of the dinner except for Chris. Mary was flattered by the word of mouth invitation passed onto her by none other than the tracker.
JD wired the Judge and then planned on meeting Josiah and Silace in the saloon. Inez had briefly entered the clinic to ensure that both Buck and Ezra were indeed alive.
Inez swore Nathan to secrecy......he had better not tell Senor Wilmington of her visit.
Nathan closed a small tattered book on poisons. He rested the aged parchment on the wood chipped desk and stared over at his patients. The room was cast in the dark shadows of night. The lamp ineffectually pushed back the encroaching darkness. There was enough light to make out the two forms resting in the beds. Buck snored softly laying on his back unmoving. The simple rise and fall of his chest and the light snores, simple indicators that he was still among the living. Standish lay still curled on one side wrapping a protective arm around his midsection. Saliva pooled slightly in front of his features. Nathan sighed and crossed the distance. He wiped the clinging moisture from the parted lips. Standish stirred and mumbled swiping a heavy hand at his face.
"Go to sleep Ezra its alright," Jackson waited briefly as the conman's breathing leveled out and once again slipped back into a deep sleep.
The healer headed for the porch door. The night was cool and clear, a slight breeze rolled down main street. Nathan would sit outside for a few moments. He turned and stared one more time at his friends.
They needed rest. The darn fools were lucky.
epilogue
Chris and Vin sat enjoying a beer outside the saloon. It had been two days since returning from the Canyon. The midmorning still remained cool. The sound of twin hammers vibrated through the area. Josiah and Nathan were once again working on the church roof. The sound of pounding nails was much more preferable than listening to the tirades of Nathan and his patients. After just one day of constant arguments the healer tossed up his hands and opened the clinic door.
He set Standish and Wilmington to fend for themselves. Buck immediate found solace in the arms of numerous worried ladies. Ezra settled himself behind a felt covered table and a deck of cards. Though neither man had endurance or much strength both exuded perseverance.
The sound of galloping horses drew Vin and Chris's attention down main street. The sound of fast approaching horses apparently grabbed Josiah and Nathan's curiosity because the hammering had ceased.
Two horses came barreling around the mercantile. They were neck and neck. The large grey maybe inching a head by a nose. The lithe bay would not be out done and dug in harder. Both horses had their necks extended, ears flat back and nostrils flared. They tore up main street in ground swallowing strides. Both riders leaned down beside their animals straightened necks urging them forward seeking more speed with clenched heels. With arms stretched out over manes, elbow's slightly bent and hands still, the two riders paralleled each other. Each seeking and edge over their opponent.
The two racing geldings were brought up to a sharp halt when they passed an imaginary finish line. The grey and bay both tucked their hindquarters underneath themselves nearly sitting on their haunches sliding to a stop. Both riders then presumed arguing...both claiming they won the race. It was agreed they disagreed and decided to seek the judgment from the mastermind behind this race.
The bay and grey pulled up to the hitching rail in front of the saloon.
"Casey, JD," Chris said in a friendly but wary tone, "it might be best ya don’t race up main street."
"It jist ain't safe," Vin added. Larabee should not have to carry the burden of subtle discipline alone.
"Yes sir," Casey mumbled.
"Sorry Chris," JD answered.
Both stopped and waited a respectable moment and finally asked, "Ezra who won?"
The foursome turned their attention to the form quietly tilted back in his chair against the saloon wall. The flat top black hat had been pulled down low to block out the morning sun.
With no answer forth coming Tanner carefully reached over to the precariously balanced hat. With a delicate touch, as if fearing the bite of a snake, he carefully lifted up the black hat.
"Sorry Ms Casey, JD," Tanner chuckled quietly, "the racin' Judge seems to have fall'n asleep."
Casey skewered her mouth into a frown and JD added an "Aw schucks."
"Ya'll wouldn't happen to notice which...." Casy piped up hitting Chris and Vin with a hopeful stare.
"Nope we didn't," Larabee gracefully bowed out of the potential sticky situation.
"Angles all wrong," Vin followed Chris's lead.
"Darn," JD mumbled. Both kids headed the horses back to the livery.
""Ey Casey," Vin reached out to stop the young lady.
"Yeah Mr. Tanner?"
"Buck still recoverin'.......," Tanner was not sure how to ask the delicate question.
"Restin' up over at Ms. Thompson's place this morning," Casey answered with the innocence that begot her age, "I'm suppose to bring his horse up there this afternoon,cuz Ms Lizza gonna watch over Buck until evenin' and then I think Ms. Daisy might fetch him so he can git a meal." Casey was slightly worried about whether or not she had the ladies in the right order. It did not really matter she was just suppose to exercise the Grey for the next couple of weeks.
Chris and Vin held back their chuckles until both kids were out of ear shot.
The tracker reached over to the gambler and gently pulled a deck of cards from the conman's coat pocket. He began to deal a hand of poker for Chris and himself.
"Good way to git yerself shot, pard," Larbee pointed out.
"Ezra?" Vin said, "Nahh, yer could blow up the town around'im and he wouldn't know."
The two men played cards into the early afternoon. Josiah and Nathan finally joined them, it was getting to hot too be on a roof. Both men stared at the still sleeping gambler. Jackson shook his head wondering why not just sleep in a bed. "Stubborn, Mule headed...."
Then again Buck was out 'convalescing' all over the territory. He might not have gotten himself out of bed often but Nathan hardly thought the Ladies man would be resting. Sure his wounds prevented strenuous activity but the ladies who tended him all had adventerous spirits and flexibility...or so Nathan had been told.
The four men shared a bottle of whiskey and enjoyed a quiet friendly game of cards. It would not last.
In a couple of weeks the Seven would be seven strong again.
The end.
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