The Gambler’s Heart

Part Two

by Setcheti

Disclaimer: Please see disclaimer on the series index page.

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The Army unit marched through Four Corners the next day sharply at noon, and Chris traded on his reputation – both of them – to get the lieutenant leading the returning party to take the two fractious prisoners off his hands. Josiah clinched the deal by presenting the unhappy man with a telegram from the Mother Superior at the mission accepting responsibility for the girls upon delivery. Ezra had offered odds on how long it would be before the lieutenant gagged them both, but no one would bet with him and he eventually let it go.

With the last disruptions taken care of, normalcy settled back over the town like a comfortable blanket. JD went back to the jail and Chris, back to the saloon. Ezra rode in from patrol and joined Chris, Josiah rode out in the opposite direction. Nathan was out checking on some of the families on the outlying farms and small ranches, Vin had gone hunting, and Buck…well, everyone knew where Buck was. And as the day slowly drew to a close, Ezra gravitated back to his poker table and the other men one by one trickled in to sit with Chris at the table they had claimed as their own. Townsfolk drifting in for a drink or a game breathed a silent sigh of relief to see the seven peacekeepers there; the natural order of things had been restored in the town of Four Corners.

In the small attic room above the dry goods store, Mrs. Potter's new roomer blew on the second sheet of her letter to dry the glistening ink before folding the two pages carefully into thirds. She extracted a small, shiny-faced card from the leather purse lying beside her and inserted it into the center of the letter before tucking the whole thing into a coarse-grained envelope and sealing down the flap with paste from a small pot. She thought for a minute, then picked up her pen again and wrote out the address in neat, flowing letters. "Please be here," she whispered. "Oh please, you just have to be here."

* * *

Josiah was surprised, to say the least, when the town's newest addition approached him in the church one afternoon about two weeks later; he had never been this close to her and hadn't realized how small she actually was. I feel like Goliath being confronted by David, he thought, looking down into the small, serious face with its hesitant expression. "Miss Julie, is there something I can do for you?"

"Perhaps, Mr. Sanchez," she replied nervously. "Do you have a few moments?"

"Certainly." He led her to a seat on one of the wooden pews and took his own on the steps leading up to the rough pulpit, giving her his best friendly smile. "Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

Indigo eyes fixed on him hopefully. "Not so much trouble," she told him apologetically. "But I've been helping Mrs. Potter's children with their lessons and it brought an idea to my mind; I simply don't know if it's a good one. Mrs. Potter said you could tell me."

Josiah's smile widened. "Then by all means, my dear, let me hear this idea and I will do my best to help you determine its worth."

"Well," she began slowly. "I was helping Cedric and Cecily with their reading, and I began to wonder if anyone was teaching the children at the Indian village south of here to read as well. Everyone should know how to read," she told him seriously. "But this book," she held up the book clutched in her slender hand, and he recognized a McGuffey Reader. "This book would not be suitable."

"No, it wouldn't," he agreed, beginning to see where her idea might be going. "And no, to the best of my knowledge no one has tried to educate the village's children. I assume you had a more suitable text in mind for the purpose?"

"Not exactly." Her gaze dropped momentarily, her fair skin flushing rose with embarrassment. "I had thought that perhaps if you were familiar with the stories of their people, I might…might write some of them down for the children to read. Education might be more acceptable to the tribe if it supported their culture instead of undermining it."

Josiah's mouth dropped open and he closed it with a snap. "Miss Julie, I…I don't know what to say. I can't believe no one has thought of that before."

She was almost tremulously hopeful. "Will you help me?"

"I would be honored," he replied, leaning forward to envelop her tightly clasped hands in his own large ones. "Little Sister, this is a good thing you're wanting to do, and I'll help you in any way I can." He was already planning a quick ride out to the village to find out from the chief which stories would be best received. "Shall we start tomorrow afternoon?"

The grateful smile that blossomed on her face more than answered his question – and might have warmed more than his heart had he been as young as some of the men he rode with. As it was he found himself watching her walk back to the dry goods store with a protective paternal eye and wondering if a little judicious matchmaking might be in order. He resolved to find out if any of the town's eligible young men had noticed her yet, and was compiling a list in his head of the ones that were to be encouraged as he saddled up Pharisee and rode out of town. I wonder if Brother Vin has given any thought to settling down…

Juliet was there promptly at three the next afternoon with a handful of paper and a well-sharpened graphite pencil, practically radiating eagerness in spite of an obvious effort to look calm and competent. He'd seen JD attempt the same thing with even less success, and the similarity set him to wondering just how old his small petitioner was; there being no polite way to ask her, however, he was forced to set his curiosity aside – and anyway, he was reasonably certain she was younger than Vin.

Settling himself back in the same spot he had occupied the day before, he thought back over the stories Grey Owl had suggested – a mixture of both Seminole and African tales – and decided to start at the beginning. "Ready, Miss Julie?"

She beamed at him. "Yes sir."

Definitely younger than Vin. "All right then, once before the world was born…"

By Friday the story of Panther was almost complete, and Josiah was impressed with the large-printed pages Juliet had already finished – she had even left room for pictures, and the two of them had been busy filling in the blanks with stylized images reminiscent of those found on cave walls all over the world.

The pictures had been his idea; when he first suggested it, Juliet had admitted with some embarrassment that she 'couldn't draw at all'. Three days of intermittent observation had given Josiah an edge when it came to interpreting her expressions, so he realized at once that she thought the story needed illustrations as well but hadn't wanted to bring it up since she wasn't able to provide them herself. And she had been so delighted with Josiah's primitively-drawn pictures that the ex-preacher had actually been embarrassed – not a feeling he was used to, at his age. "Miss Julie, you are far too easily impressed," he scolded lightly to cover himself. "Do that in front of a younger man and you'll wind up married before you know it."

She blushed a little but shook her head, patting charcoal pigment onto the drawing of Panther with a careful finger. "Not something I'll ever have to worry about."

Josiah frowned slightly, surprised by the flat statement that could mean so many things. Curiosity got the better of him. "And why would that be, Little Sister?" he probed gently, wondering if she would answer.

Juliet sighed. "I'm too small," she said, looking at the picture and not at him. "I'm twenty-three, but I look like a little girl; a man wants a woman, not a little girl."

He could hear the quotes around the words and wondered who had said them to her – someone who was trying to hurt her, of that he had no doubt. He hid his flash of anger at the unknown person or persons, however, and made a show of considering her until she blushed again; then he shook his head. "Miss Julie, you may be small, but you do not look like a child." He let a touch of teasing creep into his tone. "Except when you're standing next to me, of course."

She hid a giggle behind one pigment-smudged hand and turned another one of those meltingly grateful looks on him before returning her attention to the pictures; Josiah chuckled and got back to work as well, and soon they had filled in all the spaces with earthily-colored illustrations and were both liberally smudged with the same colors. The ex-preacher had excused himself to go draw a bucket of washing-up water from the well at the back of the church when he saw something he wasn't expecting.

It had been a while since Josiah had seen a vision, or even a truly clear sign, so it took several moments of staring before he realized what he was looking at. The small oriole pecking around in the shade of a sheltering rock had not really drawn his attention until a larger, darker bird suddenly swooped down and drove it cowering under an overhang, pacing back and forth and complaining loudly, occasionally taking a sharp peck at the smaller bird. And even then Josiah might not have made the connection if he hadn't at that point heard a deep male voice inside the church…

Nathan had come in quietly, deep in thought over the conversation he had just had with Mary Travis; when he saw the small woman sitting alone on the floor at the front of the church his thoughts sharpened in that direction and he walked right up to her, frowning. Juliet, also lost in thought, didn't hear him approach; she was thinking about the story and wondering if she should try it out on Ceddy and Cissy before taking it to the village's children when a man's deep voice startled her out of her thoughts. "I guess this must be what I've been hearin' about. Why you so interested in teachin' a bunch of Indian children, anyway?"

Juliet looked up…and up into the face of what appeared to be a very angry black man who was almost as big as Josiah. She froze, eyes widening with fright, and slowly pulled the papers she'd had in front of her protectively against her chest. Her mouth opened but no sound came out.

The reaction irritated Nathan; the inhabitants of Four Corners had gotten used to him, and he didn't like being reminded that in some people's eyes he was 'different', even frightening. "What, ain't you never seen a black man before?" he asked crossly. "Don't look at me like I'm goin' to eat you, girl; I just want to know what you're up to. Now get on up off of that floor and answer me." He extended a large hand to help her up, and was shocked when she skittered back away from him with a shake of her head and pushed herself to her feet with Josiah's rough pulpit at her back, looking for all the world like a rabbit cornered by a hungry coyote.

That was when Josiah returned through the side door; he took in the situation with a glance and reacted immediately, striding across the room with a curt greeting for Nathan and then placing himself marginally between the healer and Juliet, looking down at the frightened young woman with a reassuring smile. "Miss Julie, I'm most sorry; I forgot I was supposed to meet with Mr. Jackson this afternoon. Shall we finish what we were doing tomorrow?" She nodded at him, still silent and wide-eyed, and bolted without looking back. Once she was gone from the church, Josiah dropped his smile. "Problem, Nate?"

The healer was frowning at the heavy wooden doors and missed the look his friend was giving him. "I was over talkin' to Miz Travis an' she mentioned somethin' about that little girl wantin' to do some kind of teachin' out at the village; thought I'd best come by an' find out what was goin' on. She got you involved in this thing too?"

"And mighty proud to be," the big man rumbled. Nathan's head jerked around, and Josiah smiled. "It's a damned clever idea she had, Grey Owl thinks so too – he's been worryin' about how to get some kind of education for the children. Says he can't wait to meet the white woman who respects the ways of people not her own."

Nathan snorted. "You sure about that, Josiah?"

Josiah thought about getting angry and decided it wasn't worth it; experience had shown him that it would just make the stubborn healer dig in even harder – Nathan was a man who didn't like to be wrong. "Yes," he responded calmly. "Wouldn't be helping her if I wasn't."

They rode out for the first time the following Wednesday, and it turned out to be an eye-opening experience for them both. Juliet had brought the large horse a lump of sugar – to 'gain his trust', she said – and once the astonished animal had received an excessive amount of petting Josiah helped Pharisee's new best friend into the saddle and swung up behind her.

Vin came in as they were about to ride out, took one look and grinned. "First time ridin', ma'am?" At her embarrassed nod and Josiah's surprised exclamation, the tracker came over and patted the horse's neck. "Looks like ya already made friends with him, that's good. Now, Josiah here ain't gonna let you fall, but what ya do is hold on with your knees, not your hands – an' let him get down first, then he'll help you. Got that?"

Juliet sat up a little straighter in the saddle, following Vin's advice and adjusting her balance accordingly. "Thank you, Mr. Tanner," she said sweetly. "I will remember."

"Course you will," he replied, pleased. "An' you're most welcome, Miss Julie. Ya'll have a nice ride."

"We'll be back this afternoon," Josiah told him, knowing from the look in the younger man's eyes that he should be expecting a talking-to when he returned. They rode out, waving to JD as they passed the jail, and were soon making their way up the trail. The preacher cleared his throat. "Little Sister, why didn't you tell me?"

She hung her head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sanchez; I know I should have. But I know that in this part of the country it is expected for a person to have some experience with horses, and I didn't want you to think I'd be more trouble than I was worth." She turned her head to look up at him mournfully. "You aren't very angry with me, are you?"

"I'm not angry at all," he reassured her. "And I certainly don't think you're trouble, so don't be afraid to tell me next time, all right?"

"All right," she agreed. "Did I cause you trouble with Mr. Tanner?"

He chuckled; she was observant, he'd give her that. "Not really. You were right, you see; folks in this part of the country do assume that everyone knows how to ride." A thought struck him. "Miss Julie, if you don't mind my asking, where exactly do you come from?"

"A place where the equestrian arts are a pastime of the wealthy," she said quietly. "A place very different from here." There was silence for a moment, and then he felt her shudder slightly. "I was living in Denver, however, before I came to Four Corners."

But you're not from there, are you, little one? He tried again. "I've been there once; pretty place, Denver. You have family there?"

Juliet shook her head. "I was goin' to school."

"Oh. Must've been lonely for you." He kept his tone casual, almost disinterested, but inwardly he was anything but; the slight thickening of the Southern honey on her tongue had been too light for Georgia and too sharp for Texas – Mississippi, maybe, or Louisiana? Ezra might be able to tell, he'd have to ask him. "It's quite a city, but there were too many people there for me. I believe I prefer the wide open spaces."

"Ah liked the city at first," she replied softly. "You're right, though, Denver is anythin' but friendly. Four Corners is much nicer."

Josiah stopped himself from asking what Denver had been nicer than, and instead used the rest of the ride to tell his passenger about the country they were riding through. Some of the questions Juliet asked surprised him at first, but he quickly realized that he was talking to a town-dweller born and bred and broadened his explanations to compensate. Looks like I was assuming again, he thought. I gotta remember not to do that.

Grey Owl was waiting when they finally reached the village; the old man walked out to meet them and stood by watching as Josiah helped Juliet off the back of the horse. "First time riding?" he asked kindly.

Juliet blushed, and Josiah flinched. Why is it obvious to everyone but me? the ex-preacher wondered. Aloud he said, "Grey Owl, this is Juliet Moore; Miss Julie, this is Grey Owl, the chief elder here at the village."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Grey Owl said, taking the dainty hand that was offered to him and bowing over it slightly. "You are welcome in our village."

"Thank you," Juliet replied. "Thank you for allowing me to come."

The older man reluctantly released her hand and smiled down at her. "I will let the children show you around; they have been eagerly awaiting your arrival." He waved an encouraging hand at the cluster of children who had been watching from a slight distance away. "Nishola, I am sure your new teacher would like to see the village."

That was all the encouragement the children needed; the tight, curious cluster broke apart and reformed around Juliet, a serious-faced boy of eight or nine in the lead. "My grandfather says you are here to teach us."

They young woman cocked her head at him thoughtfully. "Only if you want to learn. Do you want to learn to read, Nishola?"

He thought about it very seriously. "I do not know. I am going to be a great warrior someday; is reading something that a great warrior does?"

"Most definitely," Juliet assured him with equal seriousness. "The more you learn the more wisdom you will gather and the greater you can become."

Nishola considered again. "I can gain wisdom by reading?"

Juliet nodded. "Reading is one way; it is a way to learn from the wisdom of people you will never meet."

The boy's eyes widened; then he beamed and grabbed her by the hand. "Come, we will show you our village and then you can teach us." A much smaller child tugged at his leg, and he frowned. "What about Osceola? I think he is too little to learn wisdom and reading; he is only two."

"Two is still old enough to learn by listening," Juliet said with a smile. She went down on her knees and held out her hand to the toddler, who only held back for a moment before curiosity drew him to her; when she stood up, he was balanced on her hip and happily playing with her braid. She held out her free hand to Nishola again. "Shall we?"

Grey Owl watched the young woman being led away by the children. "You said she can cook, too?" he asked the astonished man beside him.

Josiah raised an eyebrow. "I hope you aren't goin' where I think you are, my friend," he rumbled mildly, recovering himself. "She's young enough to be one of your granddaughters."

The older man smiled. "She reminds me of my first wife…but that is an old man's fantasy. If you are looking for a husband for her, however, a few of our young men are about the right age…"

Josiah nodded, smiling himself. "I've been considerin' a few of the prospects back in town as well," he admitted. "I thought Brother Vin might be about right, but I haven't had opportunity to test the waters yet."

Grey Owl looked thoughtful. "Hmm, Vin Tanner would be a good choice; he has a kind heart and a gentle spirit, but he is wise in the ways of the world and strong enough to protect her. I take it she has no family?"

"None that anyone knows of, but she hasn't been in Four Corners quite a month yet." The ex-preacher sighed. "Don't know, though; I can't imagine any family letting a little thing like her go off on her own – especially out West like this."

"They could be dead."

"Yeah, the War – thought of that." Josiah had also thought of her reaction to Nathan the week before, and had wondered what Rosa May – or even Ezra, for that matter – would have made of it; he hadn't had opportunity to mention the incident to anyone. "She's from somewhere in the South, I think, so it would make sense."

"Indeed." The elder shook his head. "Well, I am certain we can find her a new family; I have a good feeling about this one. Come, let us go sit by the fire like two old men and plan our strategy – the children will take care of her in the meantime."

It was nearly an hour later that Josiah and Grey Owl pulled themselves away from their matchmaking schemes and went in search of the main object of their discussion. They found Juliet and her 'class' sitting off in a corner – the same corner, Josiah remembered abruptly, where Ezra had kept the same children occupied two years ago while their elders prepared to defend themselves against a madman. Osceola was happily ensconced in her lap and watching with wide-eyed fascination while she used a stick to write each child's name in the dirt in large, careful letters.

Josiah and Grey Owl sat down nearby and watched the fun; after the writing lesson came the reading lesson, and Juliet was almost smothered by hugs when she told the children that the 'book' was theirs to keep. "How would you practice your reading without a book?" she teased over their protestations that they had nothing to give her. "It's enough for me that you want to read!"

"We should still give you something," Nishola protested, frowning. "It is not right to receive something and give nothing in return; you leave something here, you should take something away with you." He looked around and finally turned troubled brown eyes on Grey Owl. "Grandfather? What can we give her?"

The old man made a show of thinking about it, then smiled and ruffled his grandson's hair. "She gave you a part of herself, perhaps you should give her a part of our village," he suggested. "That way she will always know she is welcome here."

The boy frowned again and hurried off to confer with some of the older children. After a few moments of arguing, an excited shout let everyone know they'd come up with something; word passed through the rest of the children, and they quickly surrounded their teacher again. "We want you to come back," Nishola stated happily. "My grandfather is right, we want you to remember you are welcome here…so we will give you an Indian name! Then you will always remember!"

Juliet was visibly stunned and her indigo eyes grew suspiciously bright, but she smiled. "I would be honored to have an Indian name," she said softly. "What do you think it should be?"

That brought several frowns back, and Josiah was hard-pressed to hold back his laughter as the children began to study the now-blushing young woman with serious intent. More arguing flew back and forth, much of it in Seminole, but finally one little girl who had been reverently toying with Juliet's long black braid began to gesture excitedly to the others. Soon they had all gathered around to stare at the softly curling tip of the braid and to touch it with interested brown fingers while debating something amongst themselves.

The decision apparently made, they scattered again and came back with a variety of items that made Grey Owl hide a chuckle behind his hand; Josiah's grin widened as he realized that they were oh-so-solemnly recreating a child's version of the traditional naming ceremony. Nishola took it upon himself to fill his grandfather's usual place, and to her credit Juliet stayed as solemn as the children as she was renamed 'Little Feather'. The solemnity ended, however, as soon as the ceremony did; Little Feather almost disappeared under the fervent hugs of her small students, some of whom seemed quite determined not to let her go. Josiah and Grey Owl went back to the fire and laughed themselves silly.

They finally left the village as the sun was beginning its long slide toward the horizon, and Juliet chattered happily about her experiences during the day as they slowly rode back to Four Corners. "The children showed me the village garden," she told the still-amused ex-preacher. "We had a community garden like that back home, at the church, and all of us helped take care of it."

Josiah's interest peaked, but he kept his voice calm and soothing. "All of you?"

He felt her nod against his chest; as the long ride home had progressed, Juliet had gradually leaned back against him without noticing she was doing it. "Um hmm, Father Thomas said that serving others was the same as serving God, and that a lack of social responsibility was the root of most of the evils in the world."

"Sounds like Father Thomas was a wise man," Josiah replied, clamping down on a surge of exultation as another piece of the mystery fell into his lap; now he knew her religion as well as the name of her parish priest. "You know, Miss Julie, I can do the Mass for you on Sunday mornings if you like; I do it for Miss Inez sometimes."

"You do? That would be nice," she said sleepily. "Ah haven't been to Mass in ages – not since he died."

So much for knowing the name of her priest. "I'm sorry to hear that, Little Sister. You must miss him."

Another nod. "Ah left home after…after it happened; ah just couldn't stay there anymore." There was a short silence. "You remind me of him."

Josiah smiled. "I'm flattered – but I'm not a priest."

"You're a man of God," she corrected.

He sighed. "Used to be, once."

"Why 'once'? Why not now?"

Josiah looked at the far horizon thoughtfully, considering his answer. "I've sinned," he said finally. "And by my sins, I forfeited the right to call myself a shepherd of the Lord's flock."

Her drowsy chuckle surprised him. "Silly," she scolded gently. "You've…lost your faith in God's mercy; if He forgives the sheep their transgressions, how much more the shepherd?"

Shocked did not adequately describe the effect the young woman's words had on the larger man; Josiah felt like the softly murmured words had stabbed straight into his heart. And by the time he found his voice and his wits again, he realized that Juliet had fallen asleep. Tightening his hold on her, he planted a fatherly kiss on the top of the small black head that rested trustingly against his broad chest. "Somewhere out there," he whispered. "I think that Father Thomas is very proud of you, Little Sister."

Josiah joined the other men at their regular table in the saloon later that evening and immediately looked straight at Vin, waiting. The tracker grinned. "Do I even have'ta say it?"

"Nope." The ex-preacher took a drink and then thoughtfully eyed them all. "But I'm sure someone will anyway."

Chris almost smiled. "Well, we all talked about it already and kind of figured you'd have already punished yourself enough. Never thought to ask her, huh?"

"You know what they say about assumin'," Josiah answered. "And I repented of an awful lot of that particular transgression on this trip." He shook his head. "Brothers, it seems to me we have a little mystery on our hands."

"Bein' of less than average stature myself, I'll take offense on the lady's behalf for that remark," Ezra chuckled. "So tell us, what else have you been makin' erroneous assumptions about regardin' Miss Moore?"

"How she ended up here by herself would be an obvious one," Chris observed quietly. "Got any ideas, Josiah?"

The older man sighed. "I'll tell you what I know – she doesn't give much away, that's for sure, almost like…"

"…like she's runnin' from somethin'," Vin prompted. "Figured that already – lots o' folks head West to leave somethin' behind. Go on."

"She was going to school in Denver before she came here, but she's got no family there – I think she ran to Denver from someplace else. She's from somewhere in the South, which explains some other things," he looked pointedly at Nathan, who snorted and made a face. "None of that, Nate," Josiah admonished softly. "Some Southerners got good reason for not trusting a colored man – especially some Southern women."

Ezra cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "She's from Louisiana, I think," he said quietly. "I take it that she neglected to conceal her accent at some point durin' today's excursion, Josiah?"

The ex-preacher nodded, cocking an eyebrow at the gambler. "Thought you might know; I figured it was either there or Mississippi. You know where in Louisiana, how'd she put it…oh yeah, 'the equestrian arts are a pastime of the wealthy'? She said it was different from here – real different, apparently."

Ezra thought about it. "Could be New Orleans, but her accent isn't right. Horses aren't used much down in some of the coastal communities, but I don't see how she could be from there." He saw the questioning looks and shrugged. "That's Cajun country; if she belonged there, she'd still be there. Maybe Baton Rouge or Shreveport, perhaps?"

Josiah nodded slowly. "It would fit," he said. "She's obviously a city girl, but I think it must have been a small one because she said Denver 'wasn't friendly'."

"It ain't," Buck observed, toying idly with his glass. "'Specially not for a girl on her own, school or no school. She say what she was studyin'?"

"Didn't have to." The ex-preacher grinned. "If that girl ain't a teacher then I ain't never seen one."

"Assumin' again," Chris drawled with a faint smile. "Thought you done repented of that already?"

"You didn't see her with those kids at the village today," Josiah chuckled. "And I talked to Mrs. Potter Sunday after church, she says the twins are so eager for their lessons that they hang around the door waitin' for Miss Julie to come home – they jumped all over her when we got back tonight, acted like she'd been gone a year."

"Oh, you mean the same way they act when Ez goes over there to play tea party," Vin commented slyly.

The gambler's face flamed bright red. "Ah've told you a hundred times, ah do not go out of mah way to play with those precocious little matched siblings!" he insisted. Vin cocked his head at him with a knowing grin and Ezra suddenly found his whiskey to be the most absorbing thing in the room, muttering, "That was different; it was her doll's birthday party and ah was formally invited to attend."

"Oh, well I guess that there makes all the difference in the world," Buck teased. "So I'm guessin' that was the 'important engagement' you had to keep last month, huh? I seem to recall you sayin' that you were headed for an afternoon of 'fine food and fascinating conversation'."

If possible Ezra's face grew even redder, but a dangerous glimmer appeared in his green eyes. "So ah did, Mr. Willmington, so ah did. Howevah, it appears to me that ah've been selfish with the experience; perhaps the next time ah encounter Miss Cecily ah shall have to hint to her that yourself and Mr. Tanner are feelin' a bit left out, shall I?"

"Ezra!"

"Aw Ez, you wouldn't…"

The gambler smiled into his whiskey. "Want to wager on it, gentlemen? That sounded suspiciously like a dare…"

"Boys." Josiah decided to stop the game before it went any farther; he traded an exasperated look with Chris. "Now it appears to me that we've got more important things to talk about."

"I'd say," Nathan seconded, draining his glass. "Me, I want to know what went on at the village today."

"What we went for, learnin'," the ex-preacher answered. "Like I said, those kids took a right shine to Miss Julie; looks like we'll be goin' back next Wednesday and probably every one after that until the bad weather sets in come autumn."

The healer shook his head. "You shore are puttin' a lot of faith in a girl that won't tell anyone a thing about herself, Josiah."

"Actions speak louder than words," the big man replied placidly, sipping at his whiskey. Not gonna get mad, not gonna get mad…

Nathan snorted. "Don't know about that; me myself, I won't trust a person's actions 'less I know what their intentions are for doin' 'em."

Vin started to say something, but ended up drowning his comment with the remaining amber liquid in his glass when Buck gave him a warning kick under the table; Chris gave both men a quelling look. "What did Grey Owl think, Josiah?"

The big man's grin came back. "He said she reminded him of his first wife…and he also mentioned that a few of the young bucks up there are gettin' about marryin' age. I told him I had some thoughts along those lines myself." He took another drink and reached for the bottle to refill his glass. "Oh, and he had the kids give her an Indian name." Nathan choked on his whiskey and Josiah thumped his back solicitously. "Okay there, Brother?"

The healer gave him a dirty look and muttered something under his breath; this time, Vin had to kick Buck under the table. JD frowned at them both and shook his head. "What did they decide to call her, Josiah?"

"Little Feather," the ex-preacher answered. He could see Ezra scanning the room for an excuse to escape the table and swallowed a sigh. Damn Nathan anyway – and damn Ezra as well for being so god-damned honorable. "Wish you boys could've been there to see it; those children just couldn't do it without tryin' to duplicate the whole naming ceremony. I thought Grey Owl was going to bust a gut tryin' not to laugh at them – and they kept asking him for advice, which made it even worse."

The tension around the table eased slightly as each of the men pictured the scene as it must have been that afternoon. "What did Miss Julie think of it?" Vin wanted to know.

Josiah's grin softened into a fond smile. "She had tears in her eyes," he told the tracker, eyeing him closely. "She's a tenderhearted little thing; it'll have to be a special man that takes that one to wife."

Ezra narrowed his eyes at Josiah and then burst into a peal of laughter. "Run like hell, Vin!" he chortled. "I think you are under consideration as a possible match for the young lady."

It was Vin's turn to choke; he glared suspiciously at Josiah. "You keep your matchmakin' to yourself!" he growled. "I ain't lookin' to get married, Preacher."

Josiah was nonplussed. "Never said you was," he soothed. "She is about your age, though…"

"So is JD, an' I don't see you lookin' to marry me off to him!"

The men all roared, and JD scowled at him. Buck snickered. "I don't think you're his type, Vin – purty long hair or not."

Vin went as red as Ezra had a few moments before, and this time it was Chris who called a halt. "Okay, that's enough – I swear, you boys are gonna push this too far one of these days and one of you's gonna get shot…" Ezra whispered something to Vin that dissolved the two of them into helpless laughter and Larabee glared at them. "Something you want to share, boys?"

"Nope," the two men chorused together. Ezra stood up, straightening his coat. "I…I think I'll go for a walk in the desert air; would you care to join me, Mr. Tanner?"

"Reckon I would, Mr. Standish – I think it's gettin' a mite dangerous in here." Vin pushed himself to his feet and grinned at the gambler. "Aint'cha gonna offer me your arm? And I thought you was a gentleman…"

Ezra snorted and straightened his hat. "You aren't my type either; don't give yourself airs. Any of you gentlemen care to join us on our soiree?"

Buck drained his glass and stood up. "C'mon kid," he said, swatting JD with his hat. "We'd better tag along – someone's got to protect Vin's virtue."

JD slapped the hat away. "The day I see you protecting someone's virtue, Buck…I will buy me a hat just like Ezra's."

Ezra's voice raised in mock outrage over that, and the bickering continued to be heard even after the four men had exited the saloon's swinging doors. Chris just groaned and poured himself another whiskey, and Josiah continued to chuckle into his, shaking his head; they both knew that Ezra would soon be patrolling the town's quiet streets and Vin the dark hills just beyond, and that JD would retire to the jail for the night while Buck kept him company until Ezra and Vin came back – at which point the ladies' man would head off to live up to his name. Nathan would eventually go back to the clinic, and the two of them would sit in companionable silence until the saloon closed down. Just another quiet night in Four Corners…just the way they liked it.

* * *

Sunday came, and Juliet and Inez were at the church for mass at an hour that saw most of the town still asleep. Josiah intoned the ancient words over the flickering candles and gave Communion to both women, seeing the peace fill both lovely faces as the familiar ritual reassured them of their place in the kingdom of heaven and the boundless love of the Savior who had granted it to them. How much more the shepherd, he heard again, and carried that thought around with him for the rest of the day along with the disturbing realization that he wanted his faith back.

Josiah had returned from a long, contemplative patrol that afternoon when he was startled to hear something moving around behind the church. Hand on his gun, he crept around the corner of the battered building to spy out the intruder; one good look and his head jerked back, then he looked again to make sure. A large smile creased his grizzled features, and he very quietly moved back into the church and went down into the basement to resume his repairs. The small woman busily digging a garden in the arid churchyard worked on, unaware of his presence.

Much like the church's poorbox, the garden soon began to receive a lot of surreptitious, if sporadic, attention, mainly from individuals who refused to go near the building for any sort of religious reason – again, just like the poorbox. No one ever mentioned it, but Josiah's sharp eye noted the quiet comings and goings with growing amusement. A neat rack for garden tools appeared after the casual passing of a man dressed entirely in black, a rough but serviceable bench was put in place by a long-haired tracker riding out on patrol, and stable leavings were delivered to a convenient spot by a man wearing a shiny tin star. A frequent visitor to the local brothel left bundles of brightly-colored fabric scraps for warning away birds at hours best described as ungodly.

Josiah's favorite, however, was the self-proclaimed rejecter of menial labor; surprised by the gardener while ignominiously kneeling in the dirt with trowel in hand, the resultant scene began with stammers and giggles and ended with Ezra hauling buckets of water from the well in his shirtsleeves while Juliet tried to brush the dirt from his red velvet jacket. The rediscovered preacher made himself a more visible presence after that for propriety's sake and began to think that his carefully thought out list of potential husbands might just have been short one name.

End of Part 2 / On to Part 3

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