Ezra's
All of the guys smiled at the brightly dressed gambler in the painting. Even the pose, leaning nonchalantly against the whitewashed stone wall, looked like something Ezra would do. It was a perfect match to their much beloved undercover man.
"Well, what else have you got?" Buck said as he returned to his place near the box.
Ezra grinned at the mustached man before he pulled the next wrapped item out of the box. He pulled the dusty cloth away to reveal a beautifully tooled leather holster with its gun. Both were in great condition, showing the care that had been taken with them before they had been packed away.
"If I am remembering correctly, the holster is original, passed down in the family since the death of the original Ezra Standish," Ezra said as he passed them off to Chris who was waiting rather impatiently to get his hands on the weapon. "I'll have to get the journals out to be sure," Ezra said as he reached for another item from the box.
"Journals?" Josiah asked, brightly. Ezra had mentioned he had records, but personal journals definitely snagged Josiah's interest.
"Yes," Ezra looked oddly embarrassed and proud at the same time. "The Ezra Standish of the nineteenth century was a very avid journaler. My family has kept possession of them over the years. The journals were the original foundation for my great grandfather starting to gather the collection." Ezra pulled out a matching shoulder holster and snub-snub nosed revolver.
"Matched set," Vin noted as he examined the leather work.
"Standish bought the three of them as such not long after the war," Ezra said, then grinned widely at the curiosity on their faces. "I believe my antecedent and I had similar ideas in the realm of self-preservation."
Chris scowled and gently whacked Ezra upside the back of the head, much like they did with JD. "No double talk, Ez. What's the third one?"
Ezra scowled back at his team leader and business partner as he tried to smooth down his hair. "A physical altercation is needless, Mr. Larabee," Ezra intoned haughtily. "Besides, you have seen the item in question many times."
Chris glared at him the more, his arms folded across his chest in impatience.
Suddenly grinning again, Ezra threw out his arm in a maneuver they had all come to recognize. Opening his hand, he let them see the familiar derringer he kept in a spring loaded rig on his right forearm.
"That little pop gun of your'ns is the third?" Vin asked bewildered.
"Most certainly, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said as he smiled at them. "Father kept them all in perfect order, but this has always been a favorite of mine. I've never been able find a comparable modern weapon."
The six men stared at the little gun as it went around. This tiny little weapon that had saved each of their lives at one time or another was an antique over a hundred years old. Looking at it now, it was obvious, but they had never looked at it closely enough before to realize that. They were definitely going to be keeping their eyes open for any more surprises like that.
