It was a stupid argument that started it all. Nobody even rightly remembered what it was all about, just that tempers flared and words were said that could never be taken back. While they were bitter and harsh, they weren't completely unforgivable. And the opportunity to do so never arose. What happened next depends on who you talk to. Ran out, driven off, or just disappeared off the face of the planet, all that mattered was that that was the day Ezra Standish left Four Corners.

*****

"Mrs. Travis?" The tired voice called out disturbing Mary as she worked at the press in front of her. Wiping her hands off on a rag, she went to the front of the building looking with interest at the woman standing there. It wasn't often that they saw new faces in town any more. Since the railroad passed further to the north than most thought, the constant stream of people passing through the town had dwindled.

"Yes?" Mary looked at the woman who stood before her. She had obviously just gotten off the stage, her hair had little drips of rain wetting the wisps that had escaped, and there was mud crusting the edges of her grey dress.

"Are you Mary Travis?" She had a confidence about her and seemed to be examining Mary  while she herself was being evaluated.

"Yes I am, what can I do for you?"

"I have some business in town and I was told you were a most reliable person, who could look after my son while I was busy?" Something in the way the woman phrased that stuck in Mary's head, but she couldn't figure out why it bothered her.

"Well, that shouldn't be too much of a problem, how long were you planning on staying in town?" Perhaps Mary would have time to figure out what it was that bothered her about this woman.

"Not more than a day, and thank you." She reached behind her and revealed a young boy, not more than four or five, who looked up at her with large, green eyes. "Say hello to Mrs. Travis, sweetie."

"Hello." He kept a hand on his mother's skirt, but his eyes glanced around the room taking everything in. Mary came closer and crouched down so she was eye level with him.

"Are you a good little boy?" she asked with mock severity. He giggled and looked up at his mom with a big, dimpled grin. Though there was an answering smile, there was a sorrow in the woman's eyes that tugged at Mary.

"I should be back to pick him up in a few hours. I'm sorry to just disturb you like this, but I would like to catch the evening stage." The woman wiped some of the moisture off of her face, looking like she would rather be anywhere but where she was.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay longer? The hotel here is quite nice."

"Thank you, no. There are too many memories here."

"I didn't realize you had been here before," Mary stated.

"I haven't." was the enigmatic reply, as she swept out the door.

Looking at the little boy, looking up at her, she took his hand and lead him into the back, trying not to let her anxiety show. Something was going on and she wanted to know what. She didn't even get the woman's name. Well, that was easily rectified, at least in part.

"Well, sweetie, your mother never told me your name." She gave him a quick smile, getting just as quick a grin in return.

"Nope."

"What is your name?"

"Momma said I shouldn't tell strangers my name." The smile returned, filling up his entire face, while his eyes danced.

"Well, since your mother left you here for me to look after, I think it would be okay to tell me what your name is." She was getting a little frustrated at getting what appeared to be the run around from a five year old. He was too young to play her like that, though.

"Are you sure?" He gave her a look that had her wonder if she should revise her opinion.

"I'm pretty sure."

"Okay." He held out his hand, the perfect little gentleman. "I'm Ezra Collins. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

*****

She stepped into the saloon and most of the conversation stopped. Not that she was surprised. It wasn't often a woman walked into a saloon, at least not one who looked and acted like a lady. Most eyes looked her over, then turned back to what ever had occupied their business before she interrupted them. Two sets rested on her longer.

Ezra was right, she couldn't miss them. His descriptions of this town and the people in it had painted vivid pictures that made it easy for her to find those she was looking for. Her promise not withstanding, she figured she probably would have come here eventually on her own, if only to see how accurate he was.

She stepped up to the two men sitting in the back, easy smiles on their faces as they simply watched the people around them, not really talking much, just the occasional comment that only they seemed to understand. They watched her as she stepped around a pair of legs in her way, and looked directly at the man in the black duster. He looked older than Ezra had described him to be, but he also seemed more at ease.

The other man had a laid back attitude, and the buckskin coat was the same. The hair was shorter than she would have thought, but he would have had to cut it sometime. She turned her attention back to the other man. Looking at him, she had a hard time controlling her anger. No, she was closer to rage than anger by this point. It wasn't fair, that that man could be sitting there, enjoying life when...

Clamping down on the thought, she turned to the business at hand. She'd been looking at the two men, Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner, for a few moments now and hadn't been able to make herself say anything. 

"Can we help you?" His voice had that hard edge to it and she could easily imagine the harsh words spoken between Chris and Ezra.

"I have a message from Ezra Standish."

If she had stripped naked and started to dance, she didn't think she could get a stronger reaction. The entire room became deathly still. The easy expression left both men, and Chris' eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, picked up the shot glass in front of him and downed it in one gulp. Oh, Ezra, you really knew what you were talking about.

"What does he want."

She was so glad her son wasn't here to see this. He'd listened with baited breath to the stories his father told of his adventures with these men, not hearing the slight bitterness beneath the words, or the self deprecation. He didn't get much of a chance to get to know Ezra, but those few months had filled his head with the glory of the men sitting in front of her. No, Ezra was not bitter about his life. He left that to her.

"Mr. Larabee, he regrets that he was unable to return to his duties but he was detained, unavoidably." She broke eye contact with the man, and looked at his companion. Ezra so admired these two. Vin, she could understand. "Mr. Tanner, he's sorry about his behavior the time you came to him for help. He said you would remember and didn't give me any more details. He said it was ungentlemanly of him, and one of the things he regrets."

She had to stop and take a deep breath.  This was harder than she would have thought. She kept her shoulders square, ignoring the fact that every eye in the room was staring at them, and she was sure the entire town would soon by privy to the details of this conversation.

"Where is he?" She ignored Chris and kept her attention on Vin. To do other wise was to lose her temper and she promised Ezra she wouldn't do that. "I said where is he?"

"Is Mr. Dunne still in town, and the others?" She could see the fury building up in Chris and didn't care. She waited, keeping her face blank, for Vin to answer.

"Dunne's probably over at the jail. Nate should be coming in later, and Josiah died a while ago."

"I'm sorry. And Mr. Wilmington?"

"He's um... busy ma'am." While getting as red in the face as Chris, she suspected Vin was blushing more than anything else. And she had a good idea just what Buck was up to.

"I'll talk to him later than." She tried to smiled, but failed miserably. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

"That's okay ma'am." Vin looked at this glass of whiskey, his eyes haunted. "Ma'am, what happened to him?"

"He's dead." Then she turned and left.

*****

The inside of the jail seemed darker than she would have thought. The drizzling rain outside added to the gloom the single lit lamp couldn't drive away. There was a man sitting at the desk. Ezra had described him as young  and idealistic. He said that in spite of the young man's hard life and harsh surrounding, he had maintained an innocent air. JD was a young man whose faith in humanity and the innate goodness of mankind was real.

The man sitting before her was anything but that young, idealistic man.

His eyes narrowed as she entered, fully appraising her – more likely evaluating her as a threat than as a woman. She wasn't sure if she should be offended, or complimented when he didn't automatically dismiss her. His eyes trailed over the skirt of her dress that concealed a small derringer. Most people wouldn't have noticed it, but it annoyed her that it showed to the small degree it did. It was either show, or hide it in a place not as accessible as it was through the pocket of her dress.

"Ezra would be proud." The reaction was pretty much the same as in the saloon. Shocked silence.

"Can I help you ma'am?" His eyes narrowed and took on a decidedly icy glare.

"I'm sorry I wanted to at least introduce myself first. He said you'd be one of the few who would give me the chance." She was going to have to get better at this. She still had other messages to deliver before she could leave. She could already feel the tears and anger building up. She tried to give him a smile, but suspected it was more a bitter grimace than anything else. "I'm Heather Collins."

"John Dunne ma'am." The hand reaching out seemed to be more a habit than anything else. At least he was still polite.

"You don't go by JD any more?" She fiddled with her satchel, loosening the strings some so she could reach in.

"No." was his dry response as he watched her reach into the bag and pull something out.

"I..." she hesitated, and then held out the object, letting it swing freely. The silver pocket watch glinted dully in the light; her eyes followed it during the course of its path. "Ezra asked me to give this too you."

JD just looked at it, the naked pain in his eyes making it hard for her to control the tears that welled up. He glanced up at her, and then the pain disappeared, replaced with anger. "I don't want it."

Heather reacted as if she'd been slapped. She withdrew the watch, gripping it tightly with whitened knuckles. "I'm sorry. Of all of the men, he'd hoped you would be the most forgiving." She dashed away a few escaping tears with the back of her hand, not bothering to pull out a kerchief, and unwilling to put down the watch.

"He ran out on us ma'am." His voice was cold, devoid of emotion.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know the facts." This stopped her. What could he know?

"Oh?" she tried for polite indifference.

"He spent five years in a Mexican prison for robbing a bank. Don't get much clearer than that." Again, no emotion. She on the other hand felt the rage she'd been trying to control start to escape.

"You knew?" The incredulity in her voice seemed to break through the cold mask, and a flicker of something akin to betrayal seemed to run across his face. 

"Yes ma'am." 

"Then why the hell didn't you do anything to help him!" she leaned over the desk, her anger making her want to do something more, but she'd promised Ezra.

"Wasn't my place." This time there was more than just a flicker.

"Then whose place was it? You were his friends." The scorn was obvious on her face.

"Like I said, he ran out on us first!" He pushed the chair back as he stood up, his hands clenching in fists. They stared at each other, the anger clashing over the desk separating them, until unexpectantly she smiled

"You know, I expected to be having this conversation with Chris, not you." It wasn't a kind smile, but with strong elements of irony that suddenly reminded JD of Ezra. He took a deep breath, and pushed aside the deep feelings of betrayal that had been plaguing since he'd first talked to Maude all those years ago.

"Ma'am, there's a hotel across the street if you ..."

"I'm not staying any longer than I have to." She snapped, before turning away and looking out the window. Then her voice took on an almost whimsical tone, like a parent chastising a child, even though they know the child would not learn. "Did you ever think there might have been more to that bank job than just the Mexicans' version?"

"He was caught in the middle of an attempted hold up." The cold, dead voice was back.

"And do you know why it was an attempted hold up? Ezra stopped them.  They kidnapped him because he was good with locks. They dragged him down to that pissant town and the first chance he had, he stopped them.  But the Mexican government didn't care because it was tired of all the outlaws coming across the border.

"He waited for you guys to come and help him as long as he could. He escaped, and they caught him. Do you have any idea what they do to escaped prisoners there?" she looked down at the watch still in her hands, rubbing a thumb over the engraving, tears starting to run down her face. She'd only found out what happened years later, the next time she saw him.  By then it was too late to do anything for him.

"Ma'am, this seems to be upsetting you, maybe you should just sit down a bit..." she turned back around interrupting him, ignoring the concern she heard in his voice.

"I can't believe you guys all knew and you left him there. I wouldn't leave the devil in a place like that. They whipped him and when that didn't work, they broke every bone in his hand. Sometimes I think he would've been better off if they had killed him right off. But then..." the words just tumbled out, her face growing paler before she chocked off the last words. That was private. They didn't need... they didn't deserve to know of those last months.

"Ma'am?" He put a hand in her shoulder she was too tired to brush off. The last week settled on her like so much dead weight, pulling her down. She was so tired.

"It doesn't matter anymore. He's at peace now, this doesn't matter." She seemed to be talking to herself more than JD. She held out the watch again, and put it on the desk, not giving him the opportunity to refuse. "This was the only thing of his that he managed to hang onto, he gave it to me the first time we met. I promised him that I would give it to you."

"What happened?"  she wouldn't look at him anymore, the weariness pressing down on her.

"They tried to break him, they almost did. He eventually got out, but it was too late, he was already dying. He just wanted a chance to go home, and even that was denied. He sent me to say his good-byes. I'm starting to wonder why I bothered.

"He had faith in all of you, in the 'Magnificent Seven.' He believed in you guys.  Why didn't you  believe in him?"

She turned to leave, stumbling slightly.

"Are you okay?" JD was suddenly beside her, the hand on her shoulder stopping her from weaving a bit. She turned up sad eyes to him.

 "I'm just tired. Just..." Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head and she fainted. 

*****

By the time she opened her eyes, it was dark outside. That meant they'd missed the stage. She pushed herself up in irritation, looking around her, wondering where she was. The herbs hanging down were a dead giveaway. The clinic.

There were more books, but it was bit more run down. The lamp on the table beside her gave off just enough light to see but not so much as to be bright. The high neck of her dress had been undone, and she could feel the residual moisture on her forehead. She reached behind her and found the damp cloth that had fallen, and used it to wipe the sleep out of her eyes.

She felt stupid. She fainted like some milk and water miss, not the independent woman who'd been running her own ranch for the last ten years. It all came down to not enough sleep, and not enough to eat. She can't remember the last time she ate a half decent meal. She just wasn't hungry and with this trip, she hadn't really had the time.

Heather had made sure her son got enough to eat, and that he slept in the rocking confines of the stage, but the stress was showing on both of them. He'd been getting grumpy, and his normal even temper had given way to the occasional tantrum. She hoped he was behaving and that Mrs. Travis didn't mind looking after him for the time she was in here.

She pulled the escaping strands of blond hair back and tucked them into the bun at the base of her neck. Next she brushed off some of the dust that had accumulated on her dress, and shakily stood up. She turned around as the door opened letting in a big, colored man.  She gave him a wry grin.

"Yes, I know, I shouldn't be up." She caught him just as his mouth opened and he snapped it shut. "Heather Collins."

"I know." He gave her a quick grin. "John told me when he brought you up here. Not every day he has a woman fainting in the jail. I think you shook him up a bit." In spite of the grin, Nathan looked tired. There was grey making itself know in his hair, and he had a fine network of lines around his eyes.

"Good." Heather gave into the momentary satisfaction before reining herself in, looking a bit abashed. "However, I don't normally faint either. I just haven't been taking care of myself."

"JD told me what you two'd been talking about." He wouldn't meet her eyes, looking out the window onto the darkened street below.  There was hesitation in his voice that Ezra hadn't described. Ezra was amazed at the confidence the healer had in himself. It seemed to have disappeared along with JD's compassion.

"I was about to come see you anyway, I just wasn't planning on introducing myself this way. Ezra wanted me to say good-bye for him." She watched the healer as he stiffened at the mention of Ezra, and then his shoulders slumped.

"What happened to him? He just disappeared almost six years ago."

She wasn't quite expecting that. Dunne knew what happened, hadn't he told the others?  Not to mention that to everyone else, the subject of Ezra and his disappearance seemed to be taboo. She took a deep breath and collected her thoughts. Trying to distance herself as much as possible, she started to relay the events that lead to her appearance in the small town of Four Corners.

"He said he'd been riding, trying to clear his head after an argument. They got him just outside of town. They'd been waiting for him. They needed someone who could crack open a safe and somehow, they'd heard of him. He was tied up all the way to Mexico.

"By the time they let him go, he had a plan all ready to go. They didn't know what hit them. Unfortunately, the people in the town didn't care who he was or that he stopped the bandits, all they cared about was that he was a gringo, and all gringos were after their gold. He didn't even get a trial.

"He  never talked much about the prison. I met him the first time he got away, he just rode right up to my front door, in nothing but a pair trousers, and burnt to a crisp. But even dehydrated and borderline delirious, he was a gentleman." She had to stop for a moment, the vision of the strange man with a southern drawl that sent shivers up her spine, as he rode right up to the front of the ranch house. He got off, dipped his head in a small bow and asked to trade horses.  Then he promptly passed out. Her eyes grew misty.

"There was just something about him. The way he talked, the way he moved. He was special. I think I loved him right then and there. That was not quite five years ago. I didn't see him again, until about four months back. He was caught just after he left my ranch. He only had a week of freedom before they got him back." She thought he'd gotten away clean until his mother came to her ranch two years later.

"Would you believe he was sent back by the rangers?  He never had a chance... when they caught him, they didn't listen to him, just sent him straight back. Something about extradition. He got sent back to that hellhole.

"Eventually, they let him go. Maude finally managed to bribe someone high enough up to get him released. But he was sick. Even then, he knew he was dying. You could see it in his face." Now she had to stop, catching the sob in her throat before it had a chance to escape. When she saw him, that second time, she'd been shocked at the difference. Nathan gave her the moment to compose herself before giving her a gentle prompt.

"What was it?"

"Consumption. He already had the cough the first time I saw him, though I don't think either of us realized it was anything that serious. By the time they let him go, he could barely stay on his horse. He came back to me, didn't really have anywhere else to go by then. He..." she swallowed back another sob. Gone was the strong man she'd first seen, leaving a shell that, though the spirit was the same, the body was loosing the battle.

"He wasn't the same.  They'd tried to break him.  His hand... they'd crushed it sometime ago and it didn't heal right. That was after he escaped the second time.  He wouldn't talk much about it - I don't think he got far - but I could see in his eyes, that's when he gave up hope of getting himself out. He kept waiting for his friends. You never came." She glared at Nathan, then turned away at the shame and self deprecation in his face, instantly sorry.

"But he had a few good months. He died last week, during the night. It was peaceful." She was glad for that at least, as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry ma'am. You must have loved him a lot." He spoke softly, still not meeting her eyes. She gave him a watery smile anyway.

"Very much so, for all that we barely had any time together. He wanted to thank you." That finally got him looking at her.

"Me?" he exclaimed in surprise.

"You. He though of you as his conscious, always nagging him at the most inopportune times to do the right thing. You kept him an honest man. You taught him right from wrong, and as much as I like Maude, she wasn't much of a mother; she never did that. You helped make him the man he was." She watched as he turned away again.

"I didn't do nothing ma'am. All I did was keep raggin' on him all the time."

"That's what he needed," she said earnestly.  "The six of you, this town, it gave him a direction that he'd never had. He learned that there was more to life than money and gambling. You gave him hope in the future."

"What future?  You said yourself, that prison did him in. All we did was get him killed." With that statement quiet settled over the clinic. Why did the noble ones always wind up wallowing in guilt. There was guilt to be found in this situation, but she didn't think it belonged on Nathan's shoulders.

"What did you think when he first disappeared?" There was a gentle note that seemed to break through Nathan's imposed silence.

"At first, didn't think much of it, thought maybe he'd gone off to Red Fork for a change of scenery, or to lose himself in a good game of poker.  Started to get worried when he was still gone the next morning. It had rained that night and by the time we got out to go look for him there weren't no tracks left.

"JD, Josiah and me, we looked for a while, never found a trace of him. After a while, we just stopped looking." There must have been something fascinating that only he could see on the walls of the clinic since his eyes never moved from the spot they were drilling in the plaster.

"Did you think he ran?"

"After that fight he had with Chris? If it had been me, I don't think I woulda stuck around. Chris tore up one side of him and down the other in the middle of the street with everyone in the town looking on. I wouldn't of blamed 'im if he had run off. But he didn't take his things with him. Just what he had in his saddle bags, and that never sat right with me.  Shoulda kept looking." He finally broke away from staring at the wall, to look at her, pleading in his eyes. For what? Understanding? She understood too well.  She had her own guilt to deal with. Forgiveness? That wasn't hers to give. But she could give him more of the big picture.

"Mr. Dunne knew what happened to him." She wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say, or if she said it more out of spite for JD's behavior than Nathan's right to know.

"What?  Why didn't he say anything?" There was a little fire in the statement that brought to mind some of the tales Ezra told of the healer's bouts of righteous indignation. In other circumstances she might have laughed.

"I don't know. You'll have to ask him yourself. What time is it?" she asked, finally starting to realize just how late it must be by now.

"Think it's around nine or so."

It was later than she thought, and no doubt her son was asleep by now. Hopefully anyway. Her boy was a little hellion when he got tired and grumpy. She hoped Ezzie had been behaving herself.

"Ezzie?" Nathan looked at her in surprise. She hadn't realized she'd spoken that out loud.  She must be still wiped to do that.

"Ezra, my son. I named him after his  father." She had the grace to blush, at the speculative glance. "We may not have had much time together, but we made the best of the circumstances."

At Nathan's outraged look, she couldn't help herself.  For the first time in over a month she laughed, and was surprised at just how good it felt. After a few moments,  Nathan joined in.

*****

Nathan walked her to the Clarion. By the time they had calmed down, she felt it would be prudent to pick her son up as soon as possible.  She didn’t want to burden Mrs. Travis more than necessary. Heather was sure she'd be able to find a room at the boarding house, or if not there, at the hotel.

As they entered the door, Mary Travis came out from the back, a calculating gleam in her eye.

"Mrs. Collins, I was starting to get worried. It is Mrs. Collins, isn't it?"

"Actually, it's Miss. I'm sorry to be so late, but, I got tied up for longer than I thought." She turned to Nathan, politely nodding and ignoring the scandalized expression on Mary's face.  "Thank you for walking me over."

"You're welcome ma'am." Nathan left them alone, not really understanding why Heather just didn't say she had fainted. But then, he'd never had an insight into the female mind, and wasn't going to start deluding himself now. Maybe she just liked her privacy? He quickly scuttled out the door.

"Is everything alright?" Mary gestured to the retreating healer.

"Oh, just fine, he was kind enough to walk me over here. I'm sorry to take so long in coming to pick up my son." She didn't feel obliged to confide in this woman, for all of Ezra's high praise of her. In a way, Heather was sure that Ezra had loved her. He never said anything to that extent but he'd get this look in his eye when he talked about Mary, something she wasn't sure she saw when he talked to her.

"Don't worry about it, he was an angel. Interesting name though," Mary pried.

"There's no need to pussyfoot around the issue, if you have a question, spit it out." Heather's eyes narrowed, and she started to get annoyed.

"Is that his son?" She gave Heather a hard look, almost accusing.

"What do you think?" Mary's attitude was enough to tick Heather off, not that it was that hard to do at the moment, and a harsh sarcastic tone had entered her voice.  "What is it about this town, that no one wants to hear his name. You'd think he was a mass murderer or something the way everyone carries on. No one will even say his name.  If you want to know if Ezra P. Standish is the father of my child, than yes he is, and before the next question passes your lips, no, we never married. We were never given the opportunity.

"Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get my Ezzie, and leave before it's too late to get a room." She stared at  Mary, waiting for her to get her son. Hopefully by then she would be cooled off enough to pass on Ezra's message without ripping her head off.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to be invasive," Mary ignored the inelegant snort of disbelief she received.  "It's just that you don't know what it was like around here after he ran out."

"Damn it all to hell," Heather went from ticked to pissed, her temper getting the better of her for the first time and the words rolled out of her mouth, as she talked more to her self than Mary "Ezra was wrong, nobody in this dust-bowl gave him a second thought. Was Nathan the only one who thought it might be something else. Why does everyone think he ran out?"

"Then what do you call leaving without telling a soul, and never coming back?" Mary glared at her, full of  her righteousness, which only served to make things worse.

"I call it kidnapping." Heather grinned in feral satisfaction as all the color left Mary's face. "It's a federal offence, quite a serious one involving a person taken away against their will!!  And I don't think much of the law around here when they let it occur to one of their own, and do nothing about it!!" Heather was now shouting, her hands flung out in emphasis, and uncontrollable anger.

"If it had been some stranger, they would have cared more. What did he have to do to prove himself to you guys, jump front of a bullet for you? Oh that's right, he already did that. Maybe he just wasn't smart enough to die from it. Is that what it would take to prove himself to you, his blood pouring out on the street?  Well guess what, his blood is shed, and it is on your hands. All  of, you!!

"Why the hell he wanted to come back to this place is beyond me. Ezzie!! It's time to go now!" she called out, not wanting to enter more into the home of the journalist than necessary, and unwilling to ask the woman even that question. She was shaking she was so mad, as she sent a plea heavenward. "I know I promised, but I can't do this, Ezra. I can't keep listening to all this. Ezzie!!" she called out again, desperate to get her son and leave.

She dashed the tears from her eyes as she saw the sleep mussed figure in the hallway and reached a hand out for him as he was followed by a boy, about twelve or so and equally mussed. Her mind absently placed a name to the face, even though the boy must have grown. That must be Billy.

"Come here, Ezzie, it's time to go." Ezzie grabbed her hand, and she picked up the carpet bag, still sitting by the desk. She didn't care if it had everything in it or not, and at that precise moment, didn't care if the whole town was blown to perdition. She just wanted to stop hurting.

"'Kay, momma." He wiped his eye with his fist, and followed her to the door.

"Mom, what's up?" The sound of Billy's voice made Heather pause, and she turned around, looking at the young man. He was after all, too young at the time to make his own opinion one way or the other and probably simply believe what ever he was told. His mother hovered by him, her eyes wide and uncertain.

"Billy?" Heather asked, just to make certain.

"Yeah?"

"Ezra's sorry he wasn't able to see you grow up. He was sure you would grow up to be a good man. Please don't prove him wrong. Mrs. Travis, he... damn him, he wanted me to pass on his respect and... admiration for all that you have accomplished in this town, and the civilization you brought." She turned and opened the door, saying over her shoulder. "I find I prefer the wilds of Texas." 

*****

The next morning found Heather still tired after a sleepless night. It had taken her forever to calm down and by the time she had, the tears came. Ezzie had fallen back asleep quickly, so she sat quietly on the bed, fussing with his hair while the tears streamed down her face. She couldn't get them to stop so she didn't try.

When the sky started to lighten, she gave up on sleep. She splashed water on her face, and tried to repair the ravages crying had left. The tears streaks wiped off, but the red rims round her eyes stayed as a silent testament to her grieving.

Ezzie still slept peacefully, for which she was grateful. It had been hard on him to gain his father for only a few months before he lost him again. With the resilience of youth, he would get over it quickly. But it still hurt to hear him whimper in his sleep. He had grown very close to Ezra, very quickly. They were so  much alike.

Taking out her hairbrush, she attacked the tangles in her hair. After taking all the pins out, the brunette mass fell down past her hips  in tangled waves. Ezra had loved her hair. The first time they were together, he buried his face in her hair and swore he was in heaven. She hadn't cut it since.

By the time he came back, there wasn't much they could do. But he would watch her in the  mornings, as she would try to get all the tangles out. By the time it was brushed, the smooth waves would reach down, shining dully in the sunlight. He said he would take the vision of that with him to the next world, to remember her by.

They would sit together on the porch of her house, taking in the sunset, wrapped in each others arms, the silence broken by the occasional, stifled cough. After a while he couldn't even do that anymore. By then he didn't have much time left. He slipped away, his face turned to the window and all the glory he could see beyond.

When she saw he was gone, she'd gone numb. Nothing really mattered anymore. She went through the motions of that day and the next. Sent the hands to taking care of the grave, that sat near her parents, and her younger brother, all who died of yellow fever a decade before. She didn't seem to wake up until she stepped off the confines of the stage, into this town.

It was at once familiar, but utterly foreign. Some people were exactly as Ezra had described them, others mere shadows of the vivid pictures he described. She wasn't sure why he wanted her here, why he felt the need to explain his absence after all these years. If they had cared in the first place, why hadn't they come?

She was left, it seemed, to pick up the pieces that where left, those years ago, and make these people understand what happened. Was she supposed to make them face what they did, to make them realize what their lack of action cost Ezra?

Why her? Why did she have to do this? Why did they have to know?

He said he wanted to say good-bye, and she could never deny him anything. It just wasn't in her. As they sat together, that last night, he told her how he wished he could go back and tell everyone what they meant to him, what being in that town had done for him. Heather thought it would have broken him to see just how little anyone seemed to care, but he was gone now, and would never feel the hurt again. He was beyond pain now.

But that left her to fulfill his wish, and when she left, she thought that maybe, she could find some peace for him. This would be a chance to talk to people who'd known him for years instead of the scant weeks she'd been granted. Only she was coming to realize that they never seemed to have known him.

How could they have lived with him, worked with him so long and not realized just what kind of person he was. He was generous, caring, loving, compassionate and above all strong. He lived through hell for five years, and escaped with his soul intact. Not many people could claim that. She was falling apart after a little over two weeks of her private hell.

Her musing abruptly stopped as Ezzie woke. He looked up at her, his eyes as red as hers, and held his arms out, wanting to be picked up. He was such a blessing in her life. Even now, he looked at the world with eyes wide open, taking everything in and learning from all that occurred around him. Just looking at him was enough to ease the ache of her heart, and she was glad she'd brought him, in spite of the long distance involved.

She would have gone crazy by now if it weren't for him. He snuggled into her arms, his head burying into her chest, listening to her heartbeat and contentedly let her rock him. At times he acted so mature, yet at times like this, he would revert to her baby and she was more than content to allow him the luxury of being the little boy he still was. He had enough time in the future to be grown up, and was in such a rush to get there, that she treasured the moments like this she had.

As he started to wiggle, she knew that the moment was over, and with an indulgent smile, that for the first time in a while reached her eyes, she sat him up and ran her fingers through his short hair. Once the bed head was smoothed out, she proceeded to get them both ready to face the day.

It was still early yet. By the time she and her son were dressed, the sun was breaking through the previous day's clouds, barely shining, and the town was still quiet. Giving her son some of the jerky in her pack, she grabbed a few pieces for herself, promised them both a proper breakfast and then they both headed out the door. 

She wasn't going to leave her son with Mrs. Travis again. It just didn't seem right after the argument they'd had last night. So she decided to take Ezzie with her. The only person she really had left to talk to  was Buck, and she thought having her son with her might add a bit of a barrier to the ladies man. Unless, like JD, he had also changed.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to find out. There was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to get on the nearest horse and simply ride until she got back to her ranch, and didn't have to think about men, gunslingers, nosy reporters and Mexican prisons.

Taking a deep breath as the weak sun hit her face, she put those traitorous thoughts aside. She looked down at her son, proud of him as he carefully scanned the street, looking at all that was there. He could name every brand in Texas,  ride like the wind, read better than most men, and could pick up the rasp of a bottom deal almost as well as his father. It didn't matter that he was only four, they lived in a harsh world and people grew up fast.

It didn't take long for them to walk to the end of the street and into the church grave yard. There weren't many people here, as most of the people who died ended up on boot hill, but she hoped that peacekeepers here had the decency to bury Josiah in the churchyard. A quick search revealed the well tended grave. It had been a few years since Josiah died, yet the grass wasn't over grown, there were flowers valiantly trying to grow around the stone and dirt had recently been wiped from the engravings. Someone cared enough to make sure that Josiah's grave didn't fall into disrepair.

She sat down by the grave, ignoring the damp, and allowing Ezzie to wander around, looking at all the stones and reading the  names and dates. She still wasn't feeling all that steady and would have to eat something more than a few strips of jerky if she wanted to make it through the day. She ran her fingers over the date of Josiah's death.

"Ezra had a message for you too, Josiah, but I hope he's telling it too you in person right now." She kept her voice soft, not wanting to distract Ezzie who was now running around, playing the games of young children that parents could never understand. "But just incase he's too busy trying to win your halo, he wanted you to now he finally understood what you'd said about the camel and the needle.

"The first time I saw him, he had nothing but the pants he was wearing and a horse that was 'borrowed' from the Mexican government. We sent it back on its way as soon as he was coherent enough to ask me to. He was so sick that first day, he was burnt to a crisp and no doubt just a few hours away from dying of dehydration.

"But after no more than a few hours, he was fighting to get out of bed, and after almost drinking the well dry, was up trying to convince me that all he needed was to borrow a horse and he'd be on his way.

"I wasn't about to let him do that, since he was redder than our rooster. I managed to convince him to at least stay until he stopped pealing. He was horrified as the strips of skin started flake off. That was one  man obsessed with personal hygiene. He said he'd spent too much of his life in filth, and now that he didn't have to, he had no intention of doing it any longer.

"There was something about him though, something so strong, and so magical almost. He had this way with horses, and he could make me laugh, oh, could he make me laugh. All the family I had died a few years earlier, and I was all alone cept for the hands. They're all good guys, but they weren't my parents, and they weren't my little brother. I was in the main house all by myself and I hated it.

"There was a part of me that wanted to do nothing more than die, and if I didn't have to look after the ranch, I might have just taken dad's pistol and followed through on those thoughts, but there was too  much to do, and it was easier to just do what needed to get done than it was to think.

"He was the first visitor we'd had in over a year. I have to say I think I fell in love with him the minute I first saw him, it was that fast. If he asked me to go with him I would have, but he was too much of a gentleman to do that. He felt bad enough that we, well, got intimate.

"I don't think either of us could help it though. I'd never been with a man before, but I just wanted him so bad, I could feel the ache. Can't be sad it happened. He gave me a part of him, and he was so enthralled with his son.

"Neither of us had any idea when he left, and I'll admit there were some hard times when I found out. A couple of the hands quit outright, and another I had to chase off with a shotgun. The ones that stayed though, they were good men, and more than a few of them understood I think.

"When he left, he said he was going to write me, let me know how things were going. He even gave me an address here to write to. When no word came after six months, I thought he'd played me a fool. I'm just as bad as everyone else, thinking bad of him, but there was a part of me that wouldn't hear a bad word said about him. Hence the chased off cowhand.

"I never had the courage to write here, and I'm glad I didn't. I think Mary would have burst at the seem if I sent what I was of a mind to send. When Ezzie was born though, it didn't matter that Ezra wasn't there anymore, or that he'd left me alone, because he hadn't left me alone. So I named my son after his father.

"I heard from Maude a few months after he was born. Ezra had somehow gotten word to her, and she managed to track me down. When she told me he was back in that hell hole...

"I didn't have much clout, but I lent what little I had and we tried everything we could think of to get him out. Nobody on our side cared about some gambler caught robbing a bank, and all the money we spent on bribes didn't get us more than a quick trip for Maude to see him.

"When she came back, she had a hard, dead gleam in her eyes. It scared me a bit. She left the ranch soon after. It took her another two years before she could get him out. When they rode in...

"Oh, Josiah, he was so sick. He was stick thin, and I could count his ribs, and every time he coughed, he brought up blood. But then he smiled, and all that mattered was that he was live, and that he was back, and that he would have a little time to get to know his son, and I had him back for that precious time.

"He would talk for hours, with Ezzie sitting beside him, telling him tales of heroes and righteous men. Then he would talk about this town, and the people in it. I think he was in awe of you guys. I heard him wonder once, asking himself why you guys put up with him. He said a cheat and a con must have been more handy than he'd have thought.

"He talked about each of you, and Mary and the Judge. He described everyone so vividly, I could picture you. And this town? It's strange to walk around here, because I feel like I know every nook and cranny, even though I've  never been here.  And by the way, the church looks wonderful. Ezra was constantly wondering if you had finished your repairs yet.

"Will you look after him for me? I miss him something fierce. And while you're at it, smack him for me. He taught Ezzie poker and if I'd know, I would have smacked him myself. Granted  I have yet to come up with a better way to get math into his head. Better yet, thank him for me. I heard some of the calculations he was doing and my jaw hit the floor. The math definitely comes from his dad."

She paused in her monologue, knowing the town was waking up and that the restaurant would soon be open so she could get that promised breakfast.

"You have to look after him for me, will you? He's spent so much time alone, he need someone to stay with him. He'll probably do nothing but grump at you for your troubles, but he'll appreciate it. I'll appreciate it at least. I love him, you know. Watch him for me?"

TBC