Vin stood and looked at him. "I know this man," he said quietly. "He don't kill for no reason. There's more ta it than that." Vin turned to Grey Eagle."Lone Wolf and Running Horse left our village many years ago," said the older brave. "They had no one left among us. Running Horse found us again at the reservation we were taken to. He said that a white man had killed Lone Wolf and after many seasons of searching he had found him again. We came with him to seek punishment for the one who had killed a brother."
Chris looked down at the man he and Buck held in their arms. He knew Josiah had his demons but couldn't picture him killing without just cause any more than the tracker could. The preacher was breathing a bit easier now.
"Josiah," said Chris. "You want to speak your mind now." The preacher looked up at Grey Eagle and over to the young brave whose eyes flashed with anger in the firelight.
"I said...all... needed..." he gasped.
"But Josiah," urged J.D., "we know you musta had a reason. Why'd ya do it?" Josiah looked at J.D. and shook his head.
"Long...time...ago..."
"All the more reason it should be set straight," said Chris. Vin looked deep into his friend's eyes then at the young warrior still standing stiff and angry between J.D. and Nathan.
"I think it would be more help to Running Horse here," drawled the tracker, "if'n you told 'im why."
"I would hear also," said Grey Eagle. Josiah looked up at them all and sighed heavily.
"Perhaps...it's...time," admitted the big man.
Ezra, who had eased himself off the ground groaned as he lowered himself beside Vin. He lifted the canteen and held it to Josiah's lips.
"Perhaps you should refresh yourself first, my friend," he said softly. Josiah looked into the gambler's eyes as he took a long draught from the canteen. He was grateful for the time to gather himself. He closed his eyes for a moment to recruit strength to speak what needed to be told, but a face rose in his mind and he quickly opened his eyes with a gasp. That particular face would haunt him the rest of his life. He had settled that in his mind a long time ago. It had been with him so long now he felt he wouldn't know what to do if he laid this particular ghost to rest. Josiah felt the weight of a hand on his chest and managed to focus his eyes to see Vin's hand laid over his heart. He looked up into blue eyes that saw much and sought to lend him strength. The preacher took a couple of slow breaths and began.
"Was... friend...a brother. He had...daughter." Josiah paused and squeezing his eyes shut, swallowed convulsively as visions rose before his eyes. Still so fresh, even after all the years between. "Five men... killed 'im... raped her." He paused again as a single tear escaped to run back into his blood encrusted hair. "She...died." Josiah heaved several short gasps. "She told me...how many...described 'em." Ezra's head drooped over the canteen he still held in his lap.
"Dear God!" he murmured.
"And you followed their trail?" asked Vin, seeking to ease the telling if he could. Josiah nodded, then grimaced at the pain even that simple gesture cost him.
"Found 'em...one...by...one," he gasped out. Josiah looked up at Grey Eagle. "They...paid..."
"Lone Wolf was one of these men," said Grey Eagle.
"Yes," said Josiah. "I... asked 'im...he...didn't deny...it." The big man lay back heaving. The effort of talking as well as the emotions telling the tale had stirred up left him pale and rasping for air.
Grey Eagle turned to the young brave. He spoke to him quietly in their dialect. The young brave answered. At the end, Running Horse lowered his head and gazed steadily at the ground before him. The older brave then turned to Josiah.
"You have acted with honor," he said to the big man, "since we took you. Running Horse was young. He says Lone Wolf and he traveled with white men for several moons. His brother sent him away for a time. When he came to their meeting place the white men no longer rode with them." Grey Eagle met the blue eyes. Then he turned to speak to the other braves there. "I say that the big white man has paid for Lone Wolf's life. No one of our tribe will speak to him of this again. It is finished."
Josiah's eyes filled. "Not... finished," the preacher said in a broken voice. "It ... will never... be... over. I will...pay penance... for the... vengeance... I took... till... I... die." He gasped, trying to breathe through the pain. Grey Eagle bowed his head in acknowledgement.
"That is between you and your gods," he replied.
"Yes," croaked Josiah.
Vin stood and approached the young brave, Running Horse. He pointed to the medal still draped around his neck. Grey Eagle spoke to him and the young man lifted the necklace off, holding it out to the tracker. Vin took it nodding once at the young brave. Other of the preacher's medallions and icons were passed to Vin until all were returned. Again the tracker nodded, this time to Grey Eagle and went over to kneel beside Josiah. The big man was enduring Nathan cleaning the deepest of his wounds with teeth gritted. Occasional ragged moans broke from him.
"Josiah," said Vin softly. The blue eyes looked around unfocused. The Texan laid a gentle hand on the preacher's face, guiding him to meet his own gaze. When he was certain that Josiah had focused on him, Vin, smiling, held up the silver medal with its beaded necklace. Lifting the large hand, he closed it carefully around the precious medallion. Cracked, broken lips lifted in a smile and deep blue eyes brightened.
"Thank... you," Josiah croaked.
"Anytime... brother," replied Vin and gently squeezed the large hand before placing it over the big man's heart.
"Gonna need more water," Nathan said to Chris. The gunslinger nodded. Vin slipped into his place supporting Josiah and the dark clad man went off to confer with Lt. Burns. Nathan rose from the ground by Josiah.
"Keep givin' him little sips of water," he said to Ezra. The gambler started to nod but his throbbing head prevented it.
"Most assuredly," he replied with a ghost of a smile. He watched the healer head towards Larabee, intercepting him after his conversation with the Lieutenant.
"Chris," said Nathan softly. The blond stepped aside with him where they could talk privately. He looked into troubled brown eyes.
"How bad?" he asked.
"Bad enough," he replied. "There ain't gonna be enough water to clean him up proper," Nathan continued with a shake of his head. "Even if we used all we had here. All I can do is bind up the worst. Gonna have to cauterize some that are too big to stitch anyway." The gunslinger looked grim. "We need to get him back to town quick's we can."
"He can travel?" The blond seemed surprised.
"Ain't no choice," said Nathan. "It's his best chance." Chris pursed his lips, thinking.
"Travois'd be slower," he said at last. "Think he can ride with one of us?"
"I'm thinkin' that'd be best," said the healer. "We'll take turns, tie him up there if we have to..."
"You, Buck and I should be strong enough to hold on to him. We'll take turns, not to wear out the horses, but it may take all of the rest of us to get him up in the saddle," said the gunslinger, thoughtfully, a hint of a smile in his eyes.
"Yeah," agreed Nathan, "and I'm wonderin' if I can find a tub big enough to clean him up when we get back." They both chuckled. Chris sobered.
"How much of a chance does he have?" he asked. Nathan looked back over to where the rest of their friends were grouped around the big man's body.
"He's done lost a lot of blood," said Nathan. "Anybody else, I'd not give 'em a chance but Josiah's tough as they come. If any of us could make it, he can. I just need to get him home so I can take care of him proper." Chris looked at the gentle black man. Only those who knew him would see how truly upset he was. Nathan covered it well.
"We'll get him there then," the gunslinger assured him. "Let me know when you're ready to ride. I'll make sure the horses are ready."
Nathan nodded and moved towards the fire to place his knives to heat. The healer called J.D. over, giving him instructions on watching the blades and when to come inform him they were ready. The young man eyed the weapons now being heated. He knew what would be happening and gulped, but nodded at the ex-slave. J.D. knew it was necessary and would do his part. By the time Chris had checked over all the horses and had a quick conversation with Lt. Burns and his commanding officers, the young sheriff had returned to Nathan's side. The knives glowed red in the fire. Six men gathered around the preacher.
"Ya know what needs to be done," said Nathan to the big man. It was not a question.
"Yes," grated out Josiah.
"Sorry, but this is all I got to help," said the healer, offering a bottle.
"It'll do," said Josiah, taking a long swig. The fiery liquor burned its way down his throat, causing a spasm of coughing. The preacher gasped for air.
"Roll him to his side," commanded Nathan. They eased him over and the healer pressed against his injured side, holding the ribs in place until the fit subsided. Josiah lay for a long minute, taking agonizing breaths, until the pain eased.
"Maybe we better wait," offered the healer.
"No," rasped Josiah, "get it... over... with..." Nathan nodded. He went to retrieve a knife. Vin pulled a bandana out of a pocket.
"Need somethin'?" he asked. "It's the cleanest one I got." The tracker added with a lop-sided grin.
"Thanks Brother," said Josiah, "but I... been this road... before." Vin nodded. As Nathan knelt by the big man, a glowing blade in his hand, the others took positions to hold his body still for the healer.
"Hold him best's you can," said Nathan, grimly.
"Ain't gonna... do any... good... any... how..." advised Josiah with the ghost of a grin. He gripped Buck and Chris who held his shoulders and arms. Vin and J.D. each perched on a leg as well as putting weight on his hips. When Ezra moved forward to take a place the preacher shook his head at him. "Don't... want to... hurt ya... more..." he gasped. Nathan handed him a jar of salve and the gambler accepted his task.
"I shall endeavor to cool and soothe the cauterizations as quickly as possible then," he told the big man. Josiah's eyes showed his gratitude.
"Ready?" asked Nathan. Josiah nodded. The healer gritted his teeth and laid the red tip to the largest of the wounds. The preacher gave a hoarse cry, his body arching involuntarily against the pain. Nathan watched him closely, hoping that he would pass out from the agony. However, it quickly became obvious that the big man had an unbelievable tolerance to pain. He lay gasping and writhing in his friends' hold as Nathan touched the glowing blades to the gaping cuts he had no hope of being able to sew together, the ones braves had gouged flesh from.
"Kinda like ridin' a green bronc, huh?" joked Buck as he watched Vin and J.D. with their lighter weights trying to keep from being tossed off. He was rewarded with seeing the young sheriff's mouth twitch in amusement. J.D. had been looking green at the sight of the hot blades in contact with sizzling flesh.
"Aw hell," responded Vin, "Aren't any worse'n ridin' Peso."
"You ought to teach that horse some manners," snorted J.D. "He's dangerous. One a these days he's gonna throw you and take off and you're gonna be in a lot of trouble."
"Nahh," said Vin, continuing the conversation to keep the young man's mind off what was going on right before their noses, though the stench of burned flesh kept intruding.
"Keeps me on ma toes that way. 'Sides, we got a deal... if'n I'm slow enough for him to bite me or throw me... then he wins. But he'd never run off and leave me... We take care a each other."
"Still say that dang mule should have a warning tattooed on 'im," added Buck who had been bitten by the ornery mount more than once. The big gunman was watching J.D. closely also, seeing how their grisly task affected the young man.
"Ain't a mule," protested Vin.
"Vin," said J.D., "you call him all that all the time."
"Well, I can," argued the tracker, "coz he's mine. But ain't no call for you all to go insulting a man's horse." Vin and Buck continued their banter, keeping J.D.'s attention as Nathan worked quietly between them. Chris watched the others with knowing eyes.
By the time Nathan had finished his grim task and bound all the wounds carefully, Josiah was already in the grips of a fever. The men watched as he jerked and twitched, at times trying to fight off the healer's hands as he completed his work. They held him when necessary, his weakened condition making it possible for them to restrain the man who normally could take on all of them.
It did take all five of them to lift Josiah to the saddle behind Buck. His head lolled and the big Irishman held tight, afraid the preacher would slide off the back of the horse.
"We're gonna have to tie 'im," he said, "I don't think he knows enough of what's goin' on to keep from fallin' off." When they attempted to tie Josiah's hands to the pommel of the saddle with bandanas he began to fight them in earnest, crying out and flailing around until Buck could hardly hold him atop Lady.
"Do not release your grasp of our compatriot's arms, Mr. Wilmington," said Ezra, "and I shall shortly provide a solution to your conundrum."
"Huh?" said Buck, grateful that Vin held Lady's reins so she stood steady as he struggled to settle the weight behind him in a secure manner.
"I've got an idea," said Ezra with exasperation. The southerner began to struggle out of his coat, his injured shoulder making it difficult. J.D. moved to help him ease the fabric off the wounded arm. "Thank you, Mr. Dunne," said the gambler, "for your kind assistance. Now if you will assist me further by taking one arm." He directed the young man and between them they wrapped the coat around Josiah's waist, bringing the arms to tie in front of Buck.
"Right clever," admitted the mustached gunman.
They headed out. The cavalry unit parted company with them since they were going in a different direction. Lt. Burns and Chris Larabee shook hands, both having come to an appreciation of the other's abilities. Buck noticed Corporal Barker eyeing Chris with a mixture of fear and anger.
"What'd ya do to 'im," he inquired of his oldest friend. "I don't see any holes in 'im."
"Made him swallow about half a bucket of that water," said the gunslinger with a feral grin. "Then poured the rest in his boots." Buck stared at the man.
"You're a clever devil," he said, chuckling. "He's gonna be mighty uncomfortable for the next few days." Chris shrugged.
"He deserved worse," the man in black said.
"Yep," agreed Buck, "you're gettin' plum mellow in your old age." He was treated to the infamous Larabee glare. The Irishman just grinned back.
They rode at a steady pace so as not to tire the horses too quickly. Every few hours they would halt to transfer Josiah to a different caretaker in an attempt not to overburden any of their mounts. The preacher seemed not to notice the changes, beyond mumbling in a fever-stricken manner. They were forced to make one long halt to rest the horses for a time. Easing Josiah to the ground, Nathan checked him over. His fever had steadily risen at each stop. Two of them stayed by him at all times while others prepared a quick meal and cared for the horses.
"What is it he's saying, Vin," asked Chris of the young tracker hovering over Josiah's lips, listening intently. "Can you understand it?"
"Not rightly sure," the lanky Texan replied, shaking his head.
"Think some of it's in Spanish and some in Indian. But I don't know all the words. Might be Algonquin...or some of the others from up that way. Heard a couple of other languages I never even heard before." Vin smiled. "How many you reckon he knows? Suppose he's been holdin' out on us?"
"Could be..." said Larabee, smiling a little too. "Reckon we all learned a bit about each other this trip." The tracker suddenly leaned a little closer, trying to catch a word.
"I was purty sure about that one," he said softly. "Keep hearing somethin' about wing or wings. Think he's seein' the crows again?"
"If he is, pard," said the man in black, "we'll keep them away from him." The younger man nodded solemnly and settled back crosslegged, pulling out his harmonica to draw soft soothing sounds from the instrument. It was the best way he knew of to let the preacher know he was there and watching over him.
As the sun drew closer to the horizon, Ezra made his way from the Saloon down the street to Nathan's. He carried a book in his hand, as he had done every evening since they returned Josiah to town. It still amazed him when he thought about it, that his voice seemed to calm the big man the most. He had taken to reading aloud from the wealth of classic literature that both he and Josiah had amassed in the time they had been residents of this little town. The others just smiled and shrugged, not exhibiting any surprise.
When they had first arrived, Josiah's fever had been so high that they were hard put to keep him under control. At least two of them stayed with Nathan at all times and all took their turn at talking to him, trying to soothe his fevered dreams. But, whenever he became so restless or even violent in his hallucinations, Nathan would turn to the gambler and, always, he would come immediately. Even after the healer had released him from his care and Ezra returned to his own room and the gambling tables, he came, throwing in a winning hand without a sigh or grumbling comment.
The six men knew that one of their number's life hung by a slender thread and they gathered in silent support of the healer who fought valiantly to bring him back from the brink. As the days passed Josiah became weaker and was seldom even aware enough to toss in his fever. Nathan never left his side. The other five came and went like ghosts... each as they had time between their duties. Buck and Chris appeared to help lift and move the big man as Nathan changed bandages. J.D. would come by after his day watching the jail. Vin flitted in and out...often during the still of the night. He would slip in silently like a wild thing and sit for a while watching as Nathan slept a little. Chris had repaired the bonnet strings of Josiah's hat and it appeared, hanging on the bedpost of the bed where he lay oblivious. The medallions and icons Vin had retrieved from the Indians made an appearance on the other post. Every evening, Ezra came by to read aloud to him.
Entering the small room, the gambler saw Nathan had just finished replacing the bandages that almost totally swathed the big man. The healer had made a feeble attempt at lightheartedness, joking that he could always take up a job as the town launderer since he seemed to be doing as much as the local laundress lately. It took a great many bandages to keep the excessive number of wounds covered, Josiah being a bit on the large side. Buck and Chris lifted the preacher as the dark man wrapped the strips snugly around him.
"Good evening, Mr. Jackson," said Ezra. He adjusted the lamp on the table and drew a chair to the bedside.
"Hello, Ezra," said Nathan. "We're almost finished here."
"I am in no hurry," replied the gambler. Chris and Buck laid the big man back down in the bed gently and Nathan pulled up the blankets.
"Guess I'll go get somethin' to eat then," sighed the healer.
"I shall be at my post here for as long as you desire to refresh yourself, Mr. Jackson," said Ezra.
"We'll be back in a bit to check on you," said Chris. He and Buck nodded at the southerner and stepped out the door. Nathan remained behind a few moments.
Out on the balcony, a slender, long-haired form slipped from the shadows as soon as the gambler had entered the clinic. He settled himself cross-legged on the wooden floor just below the window, waiting patiently. After a few minutes, Chris and Buck came out of the clinic. The lean gunslinger's mouth lifted in a small smile as he saw the Texan already seated against the wall. He took up his usual nightly position just beside him, arms folded, propped against the same section of wall. Buck slid into one of the chairs nearby. The window squealed as it opened and Nathan's voice was heard, giving a few last minute instructions to Ezra. A creaking on the stairs sounded as J.D. came up carrying a covered tray. He set it on a small table on the balcony and seated himself on the floor at Buck's knee.
"And just holler if you need anything," Nathan finished his strictures as he opened the door. "One of us'll be just outside."
"I shall most assuredly do so, should I need assistance," replied Ezra. "Now please go and enjoy your repast. We shall be perfectly comfortable here without your continued presence." Nathan grinned as he closed the door. He nodded silently to the others gathered on his balcony and sat down at the little table, whisking the cloth off his dinner. Their nightly vigil began.
The southerner's mellifluous voice sounded clearly through the open window. "In Xanadu did Kublai Khan a stately pleasure dome decree...."
"That were right purty," breathed the tracker. "I could see the picture in my head."
"It was, Vin," said the blond with a sigh as he stretched his lean frame popping his back. "It was." He had been so intent on the stirring words drifting on the evening breeze that he had hardly breathed or moved and now felt the stiffness that settled in his bones.
"Still weren't as good as the one 'bout the Magnificent Seven though," the slender young man continued. "Think that's about my favorite of all he's read. Never knew there was a poem 'bout the Magnificent Seven." Buck ducked his head to hide his smile. Ezra's voice could be heard again.
"Now, let me see," he was saying to the big preacher. "What have we been working on... I must consider for a moment if I can recall just where we were in our quest for the finest of literature."
"The last chapter of Great Expectations..." said a hoarse voice from the bed. It held only a fraction of its usual timbre, yet it was the sweetest sound the six waiting men had heard in many days. Nathan lunged first through the door; the others close on his heels. Ezra sat stock still in the chair a stunned, joyful look on his face at the first words in days from the big man. They all caught a glimpse of it before his usual mask slid down. The healer went forward immediately to check on Josiah.
"His fever's down," Nathan said, a big grin on his face.
"Yahoo!" crowed Buck and grabbed J.D. in a headlock.
"Aww, Buck," complained J.D., "leave me alone!" But he was smiling as he said it. Vin's lop-sided smile competed with Nathan's in size and brilliance. Even Chris had a wide smile on his face. The blond gunslinger approached the bed where deep blue eyes looked up at him.
"Welcome back, brother," he said softly.
"Now, how you feelin', Josiah?" asked Nathan.
"Mite like I been wrestlin' with the devil," croaked the big man. Ezra retrieved a cup of water from the nearby table and sitting on the edge of the bed, held it to the preacher's lips.
"Small sips now," urged Nathan.
"I shall ascertain that he follows your order, Mr. Jackson," said the gambler.
"And the rest of you take yourselves on outta here now," Nathan said to the others. "He don't need any more excitement right now. J.D. get me some a that broth Miz Inez's been keepin' on the stove for him."
The men scattered, laughing and smiling, hearts lighter than they had been in many days. Ezra remained with Nathan. The young sheriff scampered off to see Inez. Vin headed to the livery to saddle Peso and start his night patrol. As Chris and Buck strolled down the street to check the Saloon, the mustached gunman glanced over at their leader.
"Ya gonna tell 'im that Ezra changed the words to 'The Charge of the Light Brigade' from the 'six hundred' to the Magnificent Seven?"
"Nah," said the blond, "I don't think so..." He grinned. "Let Vin keep his dreams. Besides, I think I've kind of grown fond of Ezra's version." Buck chuckled.
"Me, too, old dog," he said, "me too."
*** *** ***
The sun shone brightly through Nathan's window as the lanky tracker let himself in the door. He noticed Nathan's absence and hoped the gentle healer was resting in his own room. Chris leaned against the wall in a chair dozing quietly. He opened one crystal green eye and a corner of his mouth tipped up at the young man. Vin nodded, giving him a lop-sided smile in return. When he settled himself in the chair by the bed, the blond stood and left the room silently. He had seen in the blue eyes that the young man had something private to discuss with the preacher.
Josiah stirred, sensing more than hearing a presence nearby. Blue eyes met blue eyes.
"Brother," he said in a voice still rough and gravelly.
"J'siah," said the young man. "Didn't mean to disturb ya."
"That's 'kay," he said, "wasn't really sleepin' that well anyway."
"Glad yer back with us... been missin' havin' ya around." The big man smiled.
"Wasn't too sure I was comin' back for a while there." Josiah paused to gather his breath and strength. "I wanted to say thank you Vin." The large hand came up to cup the medal that lay on his still heavily bandaged chest. The young man shook his head.
"Knew it meant a lot ta ya," said the tracker. "Got somethin' else here for ya too." Vin pulled a small leather pouch out of his buckskin jacket and handed it over to the preacher. "I found it not too far from yer hat." Both their gazes went to the hat now hanging from its strings on one of the bedposts.
"Vin," said Josiah, clasping the medicine pouch tightly in his fingers. "You are a wonder, truly a wonder. I'm beginning to think you could track a falcon on a cloudy day." The younger man blushed and ducked his head.
"Jes' glad I could return it to ya," said Vin. "When I found it, didn't think I'd be seein' ya again. Happy ya proved me wrong on that one." He gestured to the pouch the preacher held. "Not too sure how well yer things in there did... but I figured it was better than losin' all of it."
"It means a great deal to me, Vin," said the big man. "I suppose you're the only one who really understands how much."
"Reckon," agreed the tracker, nodding.
"Thank you for keeping it for me."
"Anytime, pard," said Vin, smiling. "Now why don't ya try and get some more rest. I'll just sit here and keep ya comp'ny." Josiah nodded and closed his eyes again. The young man pulled his harmonica out of his pocket and began to coax the sounds of the wind and nature from it. The big man's breathing became deep and relaxed. He slept, the medicine pouch clasped protectively in his large hand.
*** *** ***
Ezra adjusted his arm more comfortably in the sling and moved towards the door. Nathan had already left after checking and rebandaging the southerner's wounds. He felt fairly comfortable leaving Josiah alone part of the time now and he had some patients to see just outside of town. The gambler paused and turned back to look at the preacher whose eyes were still swollen partially closed.
"She must have been very lovely, your friend's daughter..." he commented. The blue glinted in the dim light.
"She was..." rasped the once velvet voice, "the most lovely and innocent creature it has ever been my privilege to meet." The gambler turned back to the doorway. The subsequent whisper drifted across the room to him. "Her name was Bright Wing..." The southerner heard the choked sob in the sound of the name. Quietly, he turned about once again and crossed the room to settle in the chair by the bed.
"What an exquisite name," he commented. "It conjures up a picture of a wild, free-spirited child of nature."
"That she was," said Josiah, speaking slowly in his still rough voice. "I met her father at the Indian village where I went to teach. They were her mother's people and he would stop by pretty often, bringing her with him, so she could visit with her family. He was a good man. A Frenchman who'd fallen in love with an Indian maiden. They settled near her home and lived comfortably with his trapping and hunting. His wife died giving birth to Bright Wing and Claude had raised her alone. She was probably only about fourteen or fifteen the first time I saw her... a sweet child, totally un-selfconscious. She used to follow me around the village. The Indians took to calling her my shadow." The preacher stopped, considering his next words.
"I left the priesthood about that time and it was quite a few years before I got back that way. I came to study from the shaman at the village. When I saw her again, she was a beautiful young woman, full of life... and totally innocent. Her father had kept her protected and isolated from the cruel, harsh realities of life in that part of the country. The Indians thereabouts lived peacefully. They believed in staying in balance with nature." He smiled in remembrance. "She was strong though... an independent spirit. And she had her father totally wrapped around that lovely little finger. But her sweet nature kept her from taking advantage of that. And she still followed me around... The Indians took to calling her Little Shadow. I called her Mi Corazon..." He paused, seeming to see figures and scenes from the past rise before him. A darkness overshadowed the gentle man and Ezra sought to draw him from the visions that threatened to pull him under.
"And how is it this charming maiden had the misfortune of becoming acquainted with the heathens whose untimely deaths precipitated this most recent assault upon our persons?" A spasm of pain crossed Josiah's face. He closed his eyes and took a slow deep breath.
"I apologize," said Ezra quickly. "I had no right to pry." The preacher shook his head.
"I reckon if anyone does, Ezra," he said, "you do."
"You owe me nothing, my friend," said the southerner, shaking his head and starting to rise from the chair. Josiah just looked at him steadily.
"On second thought," he smiled widely, his gold tooth glinting as his eyes twinkled in merriment, "I did put my scalp on the line, so to speak. And I do find myself with a modicum of time on my hands. So, if you would care to continue your chronicle, I will be more than pleased to lend a sympathetic ear." A small smile flashed across Josiah's face though his eyes remained clouded with pain.
"Well, like I said, she still followed me around. I tried to stop her at first..." He sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were focused again on a vision of the past. "The first time I saw her after I returned... she was so beautiful, she took my breath away. It amazed me that she was so totally unaware of her own beauty. I think what surprised me even more was the way she looked at me. As if I could do anything... as if I mattered. I took to visiting them at their cabin. They always welcomed me as if I were the most important person in the world, always treated me as a special guest." Josiah seemed to refocus his gaze and looked at Ezra. "I finally took my courage in hand to approach her... to see if she might care as much for me as I did for her. Ezra, she was such an innocent. She'd never even been kissed... except by her father in a paternal way." The big preacher's eyes lit with a reminiscent smile. "I don't believe I've ever had anyone look at me quite the way she did since then... I'm still not sure that she really understood what it was to love someone besides family. But she made it pretty clear that she could come to care for me enough for us both to be very happy."
"I had kept in touch with some French priests at a nearby mission. I'd promised to come and help them with a building project. I talked with Claude before I left that time. He said he'd be right glad to have me as a son-in-law... provided Bright Wing felt that way too. He knew I'd protect her with my life... just as he would. I had to leave in a hurry to get to the mission when I'd promised. I'd stayed too long as it was. So, I planned on asking Bright Wing to marry me when I returned. I admit to being selfish too. I didn't want to ask her and then have to leave. I wanted to be able to spend time with her afterwards, make plans for our future together." His brilliant blue eyes filled. "If only I had..." He cleared his throat. "I suppose it's useless to say 'if only' now... and maybe it wouldn't have made any difference...but I'll always wonder...."
"I have found, my friend," said Ezra, "that such recriminations are largely useless. We never truly know what would have happened had we taken a different path. I have heard it said that hindsight is always perfect, while the vision of the future is nothing but speculation." Josiah nodded slowly.
"I was so happy," he sighed. "I wanted to share my good fortune with the whole world. While I was there, a man came to the mission... needing a place to stay for the night. I remember drinking with him. I remember telling him about Bright Wing and Claude... how lovely she was and that I hoped to marry her. The rest..." Josiah lifted a hand to scrub at his face. "The rest is all hazy... When I woke up the next morning, he'd already left."
"I left the mission with my heart so light. I couldn't wait to get back to the cabin... to see Bright Wing again and talk to her. When I rode up, it was too quiet. I knew something was wrong right away." The southerner could see the big man's throat working as he struggled now to get the words out. He reached out a hand to lay it on the man's arm in silent support and waited patiently for him to continue.
"There was so much blood, Ezra," said Josiah, his voice shaking. "I've never seen so much blood. The walls were splattered with it. His... and hers. Claude's body was there, tossed into a corner. Bright Wing must have seen them kill him." Josiah fought back sobs. "I-I thought... at first... she was... dead, too. I didn't see how anyone... could lose that much blood and still live. But she'd lived through it... I still wonder sometimes if that was for the best... or not. She told me about the men... the men who killed Claude and attacked her. There were five of them. They .... they took turns at her..." The preacher had to stop for a moment to try and catch his breath. His face was twisted with the pain of remembering. "The leader was the man who had spent the night at the mission... who I had talked to. I don't remember it... but I must have told him where their cabin was."
Josiah's voice had grown hoarse and raspy once again both from emotion and overuse as he struggled to speak about what he had seen... and what he had done. The gambler stood and pouring him a cup of water, offered it. The preacher took the cup but couldn't bear to look at the southerner. If he had he would have seen the green eyes full of tears and understanding.
"You couldn't have known," said Ezra, simply.
"I was a fool," said Josiah.
"You were trusting," said the southerner. "There is a great difference..." Josiah took a deep breath and plunged into his nightmare once again determined now to stick it out to the bitter end of his tale.
"I took her to the mission... to the priests. They took us in... but, later... when they discovered she was with child from one of the men they cast us out. We went to her mother's people then. They gave us a place... cared for her. She never spoke again... after she told me about the men. It was... like her spirit was already gone. There was no light in her eyes anymore. When her time came..." He closed his eyes. Tears ran down his cheeks freely. "She screamed for days. I sat outside... waiting. Finally, the screaming stopped. Her mother's sister, Two Feathers, came out. I knew by the look on her face... she didn't have to tell me. Bright Wing was gone. The babe had only lived a minute or two. A little girl, she said. I would have loved her. I would have raised her as my own. But I didn't even have that left."
Josiah's voice was growing hoarse again and his breath raspy. Ezra knew he needed to finish... to let it all out now... share the burden with someone he trusted. He took the cup from the preacher's grasp and made a big production out of pouring more water into it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he helped the preacher hold it to his lips and drink. Josiah laid back for a minute...gathering his strength again.
"Take your time," the gambler said. "I have no where else to be this evening. I shall remain as long as necessary." The big man nodded and closed his eyes, obviously trying to get himself under control once again. Ezra watched the rise and fall of his chest. Just when he began to believe the preacher might have fallen asleep, he spoke again.
"I went after them," he said simply. "It took me a while to pick up their trail. By the time I found the first one, they'd split up. It was the leader... the man who'd come to the mission." Josiah looked Ezra in the eye. "I'd lived with the Indians. I made him tell me who the others were... where they'd gone. Then I tracked them down... one by one. I killed them. I killed them all. But it didn't help... It didn't bring back Bright Wing... or Claude... I wandered for a long time after that. I don't remember most of that time... It was... a dark time for my soul."
"Perhaps most would think you evil for seeking vengeance," said Ezra, "but I can't help but believe that Bright Wing rests easier knowing those men would never harm anyone else. I don't believe she would blame you." Josiah's hand came up to rub the silver medallion between his fingers.
"It was hers," he whispered, "and Claude's before that... passed down in his family. A Miraculous medal one of his ancestors had traveled to the shrine to get. Two Feathers told me she clutched it all those long hours while she struggled to give birth. She made the beaded necklace for it and gave it to me before I left to search for the men. Two Feathers said it would keep her spirit near me. I always kept it with me... all these years. It reminded me of her, but I never sensed... her spirit... till now."
"Do you suppose it could have been the guilt you carried with you that kept you from feeling her presence?" suggested the gambler, gently.
"And now you're doing my job, Ezra?" responded the preacher with a smile.
"Purely unintentional, I assure you," said the southerner, raising his hands, a look of mock horror on his face. Josiah chuckled softly. "I was merely observing that oftentimes our own sense of guilt over occurences will blind and deafen us to the voices of those we care for."
"I thought for sure I was going to pay for my sins this time, brother," said Josiah, shaking his head slightly.
"Are you trying to tell me the torture you went through at the hands of those heathens wasn't penance enough? Are you then telling me that my gamble wasn't truly appreciated... that you would have preferred to die out there? That you would desert us without a second thought as to what it might inflict upon the rest of us to see you expire in such a manner?" The preacher looked up into green eyes blazing with righteous indignation. All the pieces began to fall into place. The path he had followed and the one he was upon. Peace settled upon him like the blanket Nathan had gently tucked around him earlier.
"Every time I think the crows are circling, Ezra," said Josiah, "Every time I think it's finally my time to go...all or part of you brothers come and chase them away."
"Perhaps that's because you are needed here," said Ezra softly. A thoughtful look passed over the younger man's face. He seemed to consider for a long moment before speaking. "Have you not noticed," he asked, "how we all seem to have come together? A more unlikely group of men I believe I have never met. Individually, we are only misfits, wanderers, outcasts. Yet together we make something powerful. Something... magnificent. We are each of us loners... not inclined to the company of others. Yet, somehow we manage to hold together, in spite of our penchant for pushing others away. We draw each other into our circle. It seems that we are all pieces of a puzzle... each fitting into their assigned place. Filling a place and purpose that only that one individual can... according to their own gifts..." He chuckled. "Or failings... depending on your point of view." A raspy laugh came from the bed.
"Ezra," said Josiah. "I never knew you were a philosopher..." The younger man blushed.
"And if you ever reveal that I have a philosophical bone in my body... I promise you shall regret it to your dying day!" The big preacher grinned.
"I'LL never give you away, brother," he promised, a sly glint in his eyes.
"Your loss would have diminished us," continued Ezra. So much so that I sincerely doubt we could continue without your gentle guidance and ferocious protection." He frowned, sighing. "I greatly fear that we have all become so interdependent on each other that none of us would feel whole any longer should our little band be dispersed."
Josiah watched the southerner closely, well aware that while what he was saying was entirely too true for himself and the others, it was also true for Ezra. And it scared the hell out of the gambler. He customarily kept people at a distance but this group of loners and misfits had gotten under the man's skin. It was the reason he would expose his tender-hearted true nature to them at times. As a cat that trusts its human will lie on its back, exposing its vulnerable belly. So, Ezra had allowed them glimpses into the man behind the façade he maintained for the world at large. The preacher vowed to not only watch this man's back but always give him a place he could feel safe in revealing his heart.
"I believe you have hit the nail on the head, Ezra," he commented, looking at him closely. "We all need each other. Together we're something more than the simple sum of seven men... Which is why we'll always protect each other... watch each other's backs... What we've found is rare indeed. And I believe each one of us would fight to the death to protect it as well as each of our brothers. It is something beyond a simple banding together...something so far beyond each of us individually that we can only stand in awe at being a part of it. We would founder were we to lose any one of us... one piece of the puzzle gone and the whole picture would be destroyed." Josiah looked deeply into green eyes that for once, showed all the man's feelings. It was a picture of the gambler's soul he would never forget. He held out his hand to the man. "It is an honor to have you as part of us, Ezra. A part of this miracle that binds us all together. You're a vital piece of our puzzle and one I'm glad to have at my side or my back." The southerner placed his hand in the large one and clasped it firmly.
"As am I... brother," he said softly. The preacher caught the gleam of moisture in the brilliant green eyes.
"Thank you," said Josiah with heartfelt tones. Ezra knew what he spoke of. His gamble at the Indian's camp... his sacrifice.
"Anytime," he replied. Then with a touch of his usual asperity. "But I really would prefer it next time if I were not required to nearly lose my scalp in the process." Josiah laughed out loud now. A mere shadow of his former booming laugh but full-throated for all that.
"I'll try to keep that in mind," he said, deep blue eyes twinkling. He sobered. The big preacher moved his hand up to clasp Ezra's arm as they had all seen Chris and Vin do. A solemn affirmation of the connection between them. The southerner jumped... startled, but then with a growing smile he gripped Josiah's arm in the same manner. The older man began to quote.
"Storm'd at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well..." A cultured southern voice joined the deep bass rumble.
"Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell." Ezra hesitated... but Josiah continued on, his voice gathering strength, ringing out in almost his old velvet tones.
"Rode the Seven... the Magnificent Seven..."
The gambler joined in once again, his eyes glowing with emotion.
"While horse and hero fell, They that had fought so well Came through the jaws of Death... Back from the mouth of Hell. "Rode the Seven... the Magnificent Seven..." Fini
Bibliography Notes: The poem Ezra reads to Josiah is 'Kublai Khan' by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The piece at the end which Ezra had altered to his own preference, also referred to by Vin, Chris and Buck is 'The Charge of the Light Brigade' by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
Note: Mi Corazon may be interpreted as My Heart.