The Gambler’s Heart

Part Five 

by Setcheti

Disclaimer: Please see disclaimer on the series index page.

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Ezra was up early the next morning to ride the dawn patrol, but apparently not so early as Juliet; his small fiancée met him at the livery stable with hot coffee and biscuits and sent him on his way with a kiss. Vin, who had been watching from his wagon, scrambled into his coat to escort her back to the hotel and then dropped in at the jail to share the story with Chris. "Don't know how he does it," Larabee chuckled, shaking his head. "The man hasn't even been engaged twelve hours and she's already spoilin' him rotten. Buck's gonna be jealous as hell…"

A soft knock at the jailhouse door interrupted him, and the two men traded a puzzled look with each other before the tracker went to answer it. Whoever was on the other side didn't say a word, but when Vin shut the door again he was holding a piled-high plate covered with a red and white checkered napkin and a small earthenware honey crock. "Yep, reckon ol' Buck is gonna be a mite jealous at that," he observed, winking at Chris. "But not just of Ezra."

The gunslinger slowly sat forward in his chair, the rich fragrance of fresh hot biscuits teasing his nose. "Now why do you think she…"

Vin had already fished a biscuit out from under the warming napkin and was slathering it with an obscene amount of honey. He grinned at his friend. "'Cause we're family, Cowboy, that's why."

"Family?" Chris thought about that one and then grinned himself, reaching for the plate. "Yeah, I guess you're right, we are – now why don't you lay off that honey, save some for someone else…"

Ezra disappeared from sight for a few hours after his patrol was finished, eventually emerging from his room above the saloon and making his way over to the hotel a little before noon. With a smile and a nod for Mrs. Abbott, he walked through the dining room and let himself into the kitchen, careful not to let the door slam behind him. And then, he just stood and watched his fiancée work, waiting for her to notice him.

After a few minutes she did, and her delicate face – still too pale for his liking – lit up with a happy glow that warmed his heart. "Ezra! Are you here for lunch?"

"Ah am," he said. "Ah was hopin' to spirit you away for just that purpose, as a mattah of fact."

"Oh!" Her face fell. "Oh Ezra, I wish I could, but I have to finish with the noon meal here and then there's this picnic basket…"

Ezra didn't seem too upset – on the contrary, he seemed to be suppressing a smile. "Picnic basket?"

She nodded, gesturing to a mostly packed basket sitting on the work table, which he promptly wandered over to investigate. "Mrs. Abbott said someone ordered it for today, some young man who wanted to take his young woman out for the afternoon. I tried to make it as nice as I could for them…"

"Ah can see that," he said, poking around in the basket and raising an appreciative eyebrow. "You must have been workin' on this sumptuous repast all mornin', darlin'."

Juliet blushed. "I wanted it to be special, she said they're gettin' married…"

Ezra had just opened his mouth to respond when Mrs. Abbott bustled in. "Julie, honey, do you have that basket…oh, I see you do. All right, then, what else needs to be done about lunch?"

"I have it almost ready." Juliet turned back to the stove and became suddenly very busy.

Mrs. Abbott turned to Ezra. "Why, Mr. Standish, is that a new jacket? What a lovely color!"

The gambler smoothed invisible wrinkles out of the indigo velvet fussily. "Ah thought so as well," he replied with a grin. "Ah picked this up in Eagle Bend this past week; it reminded me of…somethin' ah was missin' very much at the time."

"Well, it looks like a perfect match." The older woman winked at him. "Don't you think so, Julie?"

Juliet moved the large stewpot away from the hottest part of the stove and put a lid on it before looking back at them with puzzled indigo eyes. "Perfect match for what?"

Ezra stifled a chuckle, and Mrs. Abbott shook her head and rolled her eyes. She pulled the younger woman away from the stove and pushed her in Ezra's direction. "She's all yours, Mr. Standish," she told him, untying Juliet's apron with one deft tug. "How much longer on the cornbread, Julie?"

"About ten minutes…" Juliet looked from one person to the other, uncomprehending, as Ezra pulled off her apron and laid it carefully aside. "Mrs. Abbott?"

Jenny Abbott sighed and shook her head again; had her daughters ever been this naive? She couldn't remember. "Julie," she said gently. "Honey, I think the least I could do for a man so besotted as to match his wardrobe to the color of your eyes is to give you the afternoon off to spend with him. You go and have fun, all right? And don't forget your basket!"

"My…" The older woman suddenly found herself with an armful of Juliet – not enough of an armful, she reflected sadly, returning the grateful hug and giving Ezra a meaningful look over the trembling younger woman's head.

The gambler nodded once, his expression grave as he picked up the basket. The problem's been taken care of, and now I'll set about repairin' the damage, the set of his jaw told her, and she smiled; the story of the confrontation in the saloon the night before had already spread through the town like wildfire, and the fact that Nathan Jackson wasn't at that moment laid up in his own clinic was more than ample proof that Ezra Standish was a gentleman to the core. "Go on, Julie," she said softly. "It's a beautiful day, you shouldn't be wasting it."

"Thank you," Juliet whispered before pulling back and wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Should I be back to make…"

"Breakfast," Mrs. Abbott said firmly. "And I don't expect to see you two back in town before sunset, understand?"

"Yes ma'am," Ezra replied. "You have mah word on it, we won't come back until it becomes necessary for propriety's sake." He held out his free hand to Juliet. "Shall we, mah love? Orpheus awaits us outside."

Juliet's face lit up again as she took the offered hand. "We mustn't keep him waiting." She touched the soft velvet of his sleeve with a careful finger, raising her eyes to his. "Perfect match?"

Ezra nodded, lost for a moment in twin oceans of indigo blue that – as of last night – were entirely his. "Absolutely."

The late summer meadow was bright with wildflowers and colorful humming insects, the sun smiling down on the scene from a vibrant blue sky dotted with pristine white clouds. Ezra sighed and ran his fingers through the soft black tresses before him, combing out the tangles the gentle breeze had woven. Juliet leaned into his touch with a contented sigh of her own and he inhaled the fresh wild scent of the flower crown he had woven for her mingled with the honey-sweet scent that was Juliet's own. He was glad to see that the sun's golden rays had brought a touch of color back into her pale face. "This is a most perfect day," he commented languidly.

"A beautiful day," she sighed. "The kind of day you wish would never end."

He heard the hint of trepidation in her voice and, leaning forward, caught its shadow in her eyes as well. "Juliet? What is it, cherie? Tell me what's troublin' you."

"I…"

"Darlin'." Ezra moved so that he was sitting in front of her, holding her in his arms. "Mah love, there cannot be anythin' so bad that you cannot confide in me."

"Ah know I have to tell you," she said softly, eyes fixed on the tightly-clasped hands in her lap. "Ah…ah can't keep such a secret from the man ah'm goin' to marry, but…" Her eyes lifted, imploring and heartbreakingly frightened. "Please, not today; ah want today to stay perfect and beautiful, Ezra."

He heard the unspoken thought as clearly as if it had been shouted aloud: …so I'll have the memory if nothing else. What secret could this gentle soul possibly be carrying that was so terrible she feared it would drive him away? If he found that this had anything to do with a certain healer's petty diatribes, he was going to skin the man like a coon and let the buzzards pick his bones. Ezra started to reassure her, and then decided to grant her wish – the day would remain perfect, beautiful, untainted. He liberated one of the nervous little hands and kissed it gently. "As you wish, ma cherie; tomorrow will be time enough for secrets, and today I will simply bask in your lovely presence."

She colored prettily and thanked him with a sweet, warm kiss that he was loath to break away from – and might not have if they hadn't been interrupted yet again. "You there, gamblin' man! You get away from that girl, d'you hear?"

Juliet jumped and Ezra sighed; he leaned his forehead against hers and looked down into widened eyes. "Ms. Nettie Wells," he explained. "She hasn't been in town much of late, ah'm afraid – no inklin' of current events." Lifting his head, he looked up at the small, wizened woman approaching them with a smile. "Miz Wells, whatevah brings you out this way?"

"Divine providence, apparently," the older woman snapped, glaring at him and shaking the rifle that was clutched in her gnarled hand. "I said git away from her!"

"Ah'll do no such thing," Ezra objected smoothly, climbing to his feet and drawing Juliet up with him. "A man has every right to spend such a lovely summer afternoon in the company of the woman he intends to marry." His smile widened at her look of astonishment, his gold tooth flashing in the sunlight. "Ms. Wells, might ah present mah fiancée, Miss Moore?"

"Moore?" Nettie looked the young woman up and down. "So you're that little Miss Julie that works for Jenny Abbott, are you? I've heard about you but never seen you – guess Casey was right, you ain't big enough for a stiff wind not to blow you away." Then she chuckled. "Never would've thought you'd be the first one to settle down, gamblin' man – always thought that would be JD or Chris Larabee."

"A reasonable supposition," Ezra allowed. "Ah always thought that myself. Now tell us, Ms. Wells, what brings you out this way today? It wouldn't perchance be lost livestock, would it?"

Nettie's eyes narrowed. "You ain't seen my calf, have you?"

Ezra made a show of pretending to think about it. "Hmm, let me see, have ah seen a diminutive bovine hearabouts…"

The performance produced the reaction he wanted; Juliet giggled, and then gave him a reproving little push with her arm. "Ezra!"

"Whaat?" He put on his best innocent look. "Ah was just tryin' to remember…"

"Tryin' to remember that I held your jacket while you caught that poor little calf and then helped you tie him up?" she smiled up at him. Shy eyes turned to Nettie with an apologetic smile. "I'll go get him, Ms. Wells; we staked him out in a nice patch of grass where he'd have some shade."

The older woman nodded and watched her scurry off, then frowned at the gambler. "Didn't remember Casey sayin' she was sickly," she commented quietly.

"She's not." Ezra's smile disappeared and his jaw set. "There was a…problem while ah was gone this past week, but it's been taken care of."

"Wouldn't expect less of ya," was the unsurprised reply. She cocked her head at him, considering. "Did ya kill him?"

"No." He glanced down at her. "But ah seriously doubt anyone would have stopped me had ah tried."

That made Nettie chuckle. "He know that?"

"Ah certainly hope so," the gambler said with a sigh. "Ah would hate to have to educate him by experience."

Juliet reappeared with the calf at that point and no more details were forthcoming; Nettie decided that a quick trip into town was in order as soon as she got the calf safely back in his pen. Taking her leave of the young couple, she hurried back toward home. I need to lay in some supplies anyways, she reasoned. Might as well catch up on things while I'm at it…

It was late afternoon when Ezra and Juliet rode slowly back into Four Corners, a comfortable silence between them. Ezra wore a flower in his buttonhole and more were woven into Juliet's thick braid; Orpheus proudly bore a garland around his arching neck. The sun's lowering golden rays seemed to caress the young couple with a lingering halo of ancient pagan magic, and more than one person on the street stopped to stare at them in openmouthed wonder.

Ezra wished the ride would never end, but when he spotted the two strange horses tied in front of the jailhouse he knew it had; duty called. "Juliet, my love, I believe I should stop at the jail to see what has transpired in our absence; do you mind?"

"Of course not; why should I mind?"

He smiled and gave her an affectionate squeeze. Probably the only woman on earth who'd ask that and actually mean it, he mused fondly. He was just reining Orpheus to a halt in front of the jail when the door opened and two men stepped out. Juliet stiffened, and he heard her sharply suck in her breath. "Cherie? What is it?"

The taller of the two men, a dark-haired man with a strong, stocky build, looked up at them and broke into a relieved smile. "Juliet, there you are!"

"Un-uncle Artemus?" She was shaking, and her slender fingers were digging into Ezra's arm through the sleeve of his blue jacket. "You g-got my letter?"

The man approached Orpheus’ side and looked up into the young woman's eyes gravely. "Finally," he said. "Juliet, I can't tell you how sorry I am; James and I were out of the country when you wrote of your difficulties, and it was barely more than a week ago that I received your letter. You don't know how relieved I was to find that you were not only well but apparently quite happy." He turned his gaze on Ezra and smiled. "Mr. Standish, isn't it? I'm Artemus Gordon, Juliet's uncle."

"A pleasure to meet you," the surprised gambler responded, tipping his hat. "Mr. Gordon, ah certainly did not intend to take advantage of your absence…"

"Oh not at all, not at all," Gordon reassured him quickly. "Juliet had no way of knowing if I were even alive, so I don't see how you could have anticipated my existence – and I've heard nothing but good reports of your character and intentions regarding my niece." He held out his hands to Juliet. "Come now, let's get you off of this horse so I can take a look at you."

Artemus reflected to himself as he helped Juliet dismount that one didn't realize just how small five feet tall and eighty-seven pounds was until you had lifted it off the back of a horse. And it was even smaller when it was looking up at you with wide, wondering eyes from a good foot below your eye level. "Ah…ah thought you weren't…weren't here," she stammered.

"I came as soon as I found out what was going on," Artemus reassured her. The gambler, Standish, had dismounted right behind Juliet, and the secret service agent saw an expression of complete puzzlement cross the handsome face. He put his hands on the young woman's shoulders, looking down into her face in shocked amazement. "Good lord Juliet, didn't you tell them anything? Not even that you'd been kidnapped?"

"WHAT?!" Juliet started and backed up into Ezra, staring wide-eyed at Chris Larabee; the man in black had come up behind them just in time to hear the question. Chris mentally kicked himself for frightening her and reigned his anger in; several things he'd been wondering about suddenly made a lot more sense. "It was the Baxter sisters, wasn't it?"

"Ah couldn't p-prove it," Juliet whispered. "It would have been their word against mine." She took a deep breath. "And…ah got away." It was almost an apology.

"Thank god for that," Ezra said with feeling. Then a sudden thought hit him and he shot a horrified look at Chris. "Good lord, she must be what they came back for! And that ruffian last month…"

"Yeah, that would explain a lot." Chris cocked a suspicious eyebrow at Gordon, who was frowning. "You mind telling us just what it is they want with Miss Julie?"

"I honestly don't know," Artemus said, shaking his head. "Juliet?"

"Ah don't know either." The young woman had started to shake. "They came b-back for me? Why would they d-do that?"

The four men shared a look; Juliet had turned so white she looked like she was about to faint. Ezra tightened his grip on her just in case. "Ah believe this conversation might be better conducted someplace other than the street," he suggested firmly. "Mrs. Abbott's upstairs parlor should prove both private and comfortable. We'll go let her know we'll be needin' it."

He led Juliet off to the hotel, but Chris held the two newcomers back with a look. "Somethin' goin' on I should know about, Agents Gordon and West?"

"We're not sure yet, Mr. Larabee." Neither man was shocked that the peacekeeper knew who they were; they had become rather more well-known than was necessarily healthy for secret service agents – hence all the time they'd been spending out of the country. "And I think we could ask you the same question."

"Yep." Chris scanned the street before bringing his gaze back to them. "You really her uncle, Gordon?"

Artemus nodded slowly. "Until she says otherwise," he replied. "And as her uncle, I'd like you to tell me what's been going on with my niece – other than getting engaged to Mr. Standish."

The gunslinger stiffened a little. "Ezra's a good man."

"Yes, he is," West agreed quickly. "We checked all of you out before we got here; this is a complicated situation, we needed to know who we'd be dealing with." He looked at Chris for a moment and then apparently came to a decision. "Mr. Larabee, I believe an exchange of information is in order – but we'll need a secure place to talk. Think you can convince Sheriff Dunne to leave the jail for a while?"

Chris didn't quite smile. "I think that can be arranged," he said. "JD!"

The young sheriff came out of the jail, one hand on his gun. "Chris? What's goin' on?"

"I'll take over here for a while. Stick around town though, I might need you later."

"'Kay, Chris." JD left the door open and immediately headed in the direction of the saloon. He saw the questioning look West was giving him and grinned. "I may be the sheriff, but he's the boss. I'll either be at the saloon or over at the church, Chris."

"Yep." Larabee strode up onto the weathered porch and into the jail; the two secret service agents followed in his wake and shut the door behind them.

Half an hour later and more than a little concerned by what he had just learned, Artemus walked into the hotel and was almost immediately confronted by an older woman who looked him up and down consideringly. "You must be Julie's uncle." She seemed less than impressed.

The secret service agent produced his most charming smile and bowed. "Yes ma'am. Artemus Gordon, at your service. You must be Mrs. Abbott."

The woman nodded, but still didn't look inclined to trust him just yet. "Mr. Standish took Julie upstairs," she informed him. "You should have warned her you were coming, Mr. Gordon; that girl's had enough shocks since she got here, and this didn't help her any."

"I know." And he did know…now. Acting on inspiration, Artemus stepped closer to her and lowered his voice. "Mrs. Abbott, I can't thank you enough for looking out for my niece. I owe you and Mrs. Potter a tremendous debt of gratitude for taking her in like you did after she escaped from her kidnappers…"

The older woman gasped, eyes widening. "Kidnapped!"

Gordon nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so. She had escaped from their nefarious clutches and made her way here, not even knowing where she was, and she was too fearful of the miscreants' possible retribution to confide in anyone; she sent me a letter, but I was unfortunately out of the country and only returned a bare week ago. I was so relieved to find her safe, you can't even imagine…"

Mrs. Abbott shook her head and patted his arm. "I…have grown daughters of my own, Mr. Gordon, I can well imagine. Oh, that poor child!" She dabbed at her eyes and gave him a little push in the direction of the stairs. "The parlor is the second door on the left, Mr. Gordon; if you need anything just send Mr. Standish down for it."

Artemus caught her plump hand and kissed it. "Thank you, dear lady, I certainly shall." He headed for the stairs, pausing with one hand on the polished bannister. "I hate to ask, but as some of what my niece and I have to discuss is family business of a most personal nature, could you…?"

"I won't allow anyone going upstairs to linger," she reassured him. He thanked her with a smile and continued on his way.

Nearing the second door on the left he paused for a moment, listening, and then opened the door and walked in, closing it firmly behind him and turning the key in the lock. Juliet was sitting on the couch, face buried in her hands; Ezra, perched beside her, was trying to offer comfort but was all too obviously in a state of shock himself. Gordon sighed. "You told him, didn't you?"

A wordless nod; the secret service agent sighed again and nodded himself. Dipping into his jacket's inner pocket, he extracted the small shiny card and carefully folded letter and held them out to the gambler. Ezra made no move to take them. "Are you her uncle?" he asked.

"Until she says otherwise," Gordon responded gravely, dropping card and letter into the gambler's lap. "And from what your young sheriff and more recently Mr. Larabee have told me, I believe the honor is mine for having been chosen to the position." He pulled up an upholstered chair and sat at Juliet's other side. "Teaching Indian children to read, maintaining the church garden, apprehendin' armed outlaws, cooking three meals a day here at the hotel – tell me, Juliet, is everyone where you're from so industrious?" Not receiving an answer, he gently pulled the slender hands down and tipped up her chin. "I have to say, my dear, I've come to the conclusion that the Baxter sisters did our world a great service when they brought you here."

She blushed, but the indigo eyes with their fringe of damp black lashes looked away. "I was just tryin' to keep busy."

"Well, you certainly made an admirable job of it," Gordon approved. "Mr. Standish is a lucky man…" She shuddered, and he suddenly saw the problem; he squeezed the cold little hands gently, deliberately pressing on the dainty golden ring. "And if this small matter of your origin causes him to forget that, I may be forced to discharge my familial duty to you by calling him out – not that I think he could forget, seein' as how every time he looks in his closet he's going to be reminded of how much he cares for you."

"Ah wouldn't forget anyway," Ezra said slowly. He handed the letter back to Gordon, frowning as he fingered the slick surface of the card. "This was your only proof, wasn't it, sent off to Mr. Gordon? And you were goin' to tell me anyway."

Juliet looked startled by the observation. "We were goin' to be married, I had to!"

"No, you didn't," he corrected quietly. "But you chose not to keep it from me, even knowin' what the truth might cost you – you chose bein' honest with me ovah your own best interests." Ezra gave the small picture a thoughtful look. "You know, this photograph is very poorly done in spite of the novelty of color. And ah also notice from the information contained on it that you apparently have not lied even once about yourself, to anyone." He saw her open her mouth to protest and shook his head. "Not revealin' everything is not the same as lyin', cherie, and you may consider me an expert in that area due to the nature of mah profession – all three of them."

Gordon nodded his agreement, patting her hand reassuringly. "He's absolutely right, my dear; you've no caused to be ashamed in this situation." He let his words sink in for a moment and then asked the question they most needed an answer to. "So tell us, did you know the Baxter sisters from Denver? Were they acquaintances of yours, or perhaps enemies?"

"I didn't really know them, but I had seen them," she said with a sigh. "I was going to school, to college, and I had a job at a little bookstore downtown. I'd noticed those two girls in and out of the store; I tried not to think much about them, there are a lot of kids like that around and I," she shuddered, "I knew I had to g-get used to them eventually. I thought it was just my imagination…"

"They were watching you, weren't they?" Gordon sighed himself when she nodded. "They must have targeted you for a reason, Juliet; we just have to figure out what it was. Did they ever speak to you? Ask you any questions?" He saw her thinking about it and decided to narrow the field. "Personal questions?"

"Ah can't think of anything out of the ordinary," she confessed. "Only where to find this book or that, or if we had books on certain subjects…"

"What subjects, darlin'?" Ezra prompted gently. "Do you remember?"

She nodded slowly. "I remember thinkin' it odd that they would be readin' such scholarly works, but I just assumed it must be for a research paper or some sort of odd hobby…they were all about Central and South America, about the Aztecs and the Incas and their civilizations – books written by archaeologists and historians, never fiction."

Artemus looked thoughtful. "Hmm, ancient civilizations in South America and Mexico; James and I were just down there. We saw a ziggurat in the jungle, still mostly intact after who knows how many hundreds of years of abandonment. You could still see the stains on the al…" His eyes widened suddenly, and he exchanged a horrified look with Ezra. "Good God, you don't think…"

The gambler looked sickened. "She certainly fits the traditional criteria," he said tightly, stiffening a little with offense when Gordon raised a questioning eyebrow. "Ah certainly hope you are not about to ask the question ah think you are, Mistah Gordon."

"No," Gordon answered quickly. "One only has to look at her to know…well, to know. And what I know about you says you wouldn't have…"

"No, ah wouldn't." Dismissing the subject, he thought for a minute and then nodded to himself. "We need more information to make sense of all this, but ah'm afraid obtainin' it will necessitate bringin' someone else in on the secret. Juliet darlin', ah believe Josiah might just be able to help us sort this conundrum out, and with your permission ah'll go and get him."

She bit her lip. "But what if he doesn't…"

"He'll believe you," Ezra reassured her. "If necessary, my dear, ah'll make him believe you – but it won't be necessary, you'll see. May ah go fetch him, darlin'?"

Juliet laid a trembling hand against his chest, looking up into his eyes, and Ezra's heart almost stopped as the gesture reminded him of another time and place…and a much more permanent leave taking. "If you think it best, Ezra. You won't be long?"

Ezra caught up the small hand and pressed a fervent kiss to it. "Ah'll be back before you know ah've gone, cherie, you have mah word." Promise me… He tried to ignore the ghostly whisper of memory, but couldn't stop himself from asking, "You'll…be here when ah return?"

The obvious feeling behind the nearly whispered question startled her, but Juliet recognized his need without understanding it. She lifted her hand – still clasped in his – to gently touch his cheek. "Of course, mah love. Where else would ah be?"

He laughed – at himself, and kissed the hand again. "Nowhere else, darlin' – ah was just bein' foolish. Ah'll be right back."

Gordon watched Juliet's face as the gambler hurried out of the room, seeing the little frown line that appeared between her eyes. "Do you know what that was about, Juliet?"

"Ah know he's a widower," she replied distractedly, still staring at the closed door. "Ah must have said or done somethin' that…" She shook herself. "Poor Ezra; whatevah happened, it must have been horrible for him. Ah shall have to be more careful until he feels ready to talk about it, so ah don't cause him pain unintentionally."

The secret service agent just barely stopped his mouth from dropping open. She just found out she was probably kidnapped to be a virgin sacrifice in some barbaric ritual…and she's worried about reminding him of his dead wife. Ezra Standish, I truly hope you know what a treasure you've latched on to. Recovering himself, he patted her hand and settled back in his chair, grinning at her. "While he's gone, my dear, how about you tell me all the wonderful things you've heard about my partner and I…"

Back at the jail, West was sitting in the visitor chair with his feet propped up on the scarred desk, sipping from a cup of coffee. "I have to say, Chris, you've taken all of this a lot better than I thought you would."

Larabee shrugged. "Not much else I can do with it, is there, Jim? I mean, it's not like me sayin' I don't believe you is gonna change the situation – what I'm worried about is how Ezra's gonna take it."

West cocked an eyebrow. "He as much in love as it looks like he is?"

Chris chuckled into his own coffee. "More." That made him think of something else, and he sobered quickly. "I sure hope you two weren't planning on takin' Miss Julie away from here."

"Nope." The secret service agent grinned. "We don't have any intention of taking her away from him – although if we'd told Washington what we were up to, they probably would have insisted. Which of course is why we didn't tell them. We decided to see what was going on first, and after meeting Miss Moore I'm glad that we held off." He suddenly looked thoughtful. "As a matter of fact, I may even have another 'relation' for her."

It was Larabee's turn to cock an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

"I know someone," came the measured reply. West was obviously weighing each word; the gunslinger didn't envy him his burden of secrecy. "His name is Jesse McLaughlin, and he and his…family have a ranch in Arizona Territory. If I send for him, he'll come."

"Why?"

"Same reason Miss Moore sent for my partner – he knows me from someplace else." He gave Chris a meaningful look. "I've never told Artie about this…but it sounds like the same someplace else."

Chris frowned, thinking about it. "Just how many of these people are there livin' out here?"

West chuckled. "Just the six that we know of – Jesse, his wife and his foreman, and now Miss Moore and the Baxter sisters. I can tell you one thing, though." he became serious again. "Not a one of them seems willing to go back, and Jesse could have if he'd wanted to. I think we need to pay close attention to what these people say about the future if we don't want to recreate the mess they left behind."

"Bad?"

"You have no idea." He took a last swallow of coffee and set the cup aside. "Wars that make this last one look like a skirmish, crimes that make plain old murder sound tame and uninteresting – I mean, Jesse and Charlie've told me some, but Juliet is from almost twenty years after their time, and I can only imagine the things that she's seen."

Chris shook his head, toying with his own cup. "Not sure I want to imagine," he replied slowly. "The Baxter sisters…neither of 'em could've been more than fourteen, Jim, and they were as feral as a couple of rabid coyotes. Ain't never seen nothing like 'em and I don't mind sayin' I hope I never do again."

West nodded. "You given any thought to how she got away from them?"

"I think they underestimated her," was the gunslinger's answer. He smiled slightly. "My guess would be they figured she'd be too frightened to run, didn't tie her up or keep a watch."

"That would be my guess, too – the bad thing is, next time they won't make that mistake."

Chris scowled. "There ain't gonna be a next time."

Josiah looked up from the shutter he was repairing when he heard the front door of the church open and smiled broadly when he saw the gambler. "Ezra! I thought you'd be out with…" Then he saw the look on the younger man's face; the big preacher was at his side in an instant, the shutter forgotten. "Son, what is it, what's happened? Is Miss Julie…"

"She's fine," Ezra reassured him. Worried emerald eyes nervously searched the concerned face looking down at him. "Josiah, ah…ah need you to do somethin' for me, somethin' very unusual." The older man nodded, and Ezra took a deep breath-part of which caught in his throat. "Ah need you to accept what ah'm about to tell you…unconditionally."

It was all Josiah could do not to flinch at the uncertain, pleading tone that colored the words. Looks like I'm still reapin' what I've sown, a bitter harvest of doubt and distrust, he groaned internally. 'How much more the shepherd' indeed; no penance I could devise could equal the chastisement the Lord is deliverin' right now, hearin' my boy beggin' me to trust him like it's somethin' he has no right to expect. He slid a fatherly arm around the gambler's shoulders and guided him to sit on a pew, settling down beside him. "Tell me."

Ezra took another deep breath, trying to retain his composure. "Juliet's uncle has just arrived in town, along with his partner – they are secret service agents, and apparently they've been out of the country for some time and only just returned. She had sent him a letter directly after arrivin' in Four Corners – directly after escapin' from her kidnappers, the Baxter sisters." Josiah gasped, and the gambler held up his hand to forestall any questions. "They had apparently targeted her in Denver at the bookstore where she was employed; they were searchin' for information on the Aztec and Incan civilizations. Mr. Gordon – her uncle-and I could only theorize that it must have been Juliet's…virtuous demeanor that attracted the two little hellions to her in the first place."

The preacher nodded slowly. "Those cultures practiced human sacrifice, yes," he said. "And the purer the victim, the greater the likelihood of the ritual being effective…but what could they possibly be tryin' to do that would require a virginal blood sacrifice? That kind of ritual could only be for something…" His concerned gaze went back to Ezra, who looked as miserable as Josiah had ever seen him. "There's more, isn't there."

"There's more." With a sigh, the gambler reached into his coat pocket and fished out the shiny card. "Juliet did most recently come from Denver," he said heavily, placing the card in Josiah's hands. "Just not…our Denver."

Josiah turned the card over in his hands and squinted at the picture, then read the words beside it…and then he read them again. "Oh my lord," he said softly. "She's from…the future?"

"No, an alternate world," Ezra corrected absently, fingering his wedding ring, trying not to feel the touch of that small, caring hand in the center of his chest or hear the ghostly whisper in his ears. He forced a chuckle. "She nevah once lied, Josiah – left out a few details here and there, but she nevah once lied. And she was plannin' to share her secret with me tomorrow, not bein' able in good conscience to keep it from me in spite of the fact she had no proof a'tall. Her point of origin notwithstandin', mah Juliet has got to be a woman in a million."

"Yep." Josiah looked at the card again and sighed. "But we knew that before."

"That ah did," the younger man replied softly. "The Baxter sisters are still out there, Josiah. They want her back."

"They can't have her." The preacher dropped a large hand on Ezra's slumped shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "She belongs to us now. Now tell me what else is botherin' you." Ezra dropped his head into his hands, but Josiah wasn't having it; he used his other hand to gently force the gambler's head back up so he could look into his eyes and then shook his head over what he saw there. "Been wonderin' when this would happen. What reminded you, son?"

"A small…gesture she made. The way she looked up at me…" He twitched away from Josiah's grip, his emerald eyes suspiciously shiny. "It was the last time ah saw Christina..."

Josiah frowned and brushed an errant lock of chestnut hair off the younger man's forehead. "Somehow I don't think the good lord would bring that little woman all the way from another world to be your wife if he didn't intend to let you keep her," he said gravely. He saw Ezra's eyes widen at his easy acceptance of the situation and shrugged, giving him a little shake. "Don't matter where she's from, son, only that she's here now – and that she loves you with all her heart." He chuckled. "Nice coat, by the way; looks like a perfect match."

That got a smile, albeit a small watery one. "It is. She was all ah could think about, Josiah, the whole time ah was gone. And then when ah found out what had happened…"

"She was pining away," the preacher said quietly. "Wasn't nothin' we could do but keep Nathan away from her and wait for you to come home. If you hadn't come back, Ezra…"

"Ah know – but there should nevah have been any question of mah comin' back! Ah made certain she knew exactly how long mah absence would be before ah left." The gambler's expression became grim. "What exactly did the bastard say to her, Josiah?"

Josiah sighed. "He was trying to have a 'talk' with Mrs. Potter and didn't realize Miss Julie was close enough to hear," he began. "From what I gather, most of what he had to say was just his opinion of you…but I know he called her a 'silly little girl'."

Ezra winced. "She called herself that last night," he said. "Ah'd wondered where it came from-she was so happy to see me she cried, Josiah, and yet she seemed to think it was somethin' she should be apologizin' for. And she seemed astonished that ah'd ask her to marry me…"

"No, that anyone would ask," the preacher corrected sadly. "I was teasing her about gettin' married one day over at the church, and she told me that it was something she never would have to worry about – said that a man wants a woman, not a little girl."

"What?!"

"She was repeatin' what someone else had told her, I could tell," Josiah told him. "Just like the day after she shot that outlaw when she said the world wouldn't stop for her." He shook his head. "I think I know when someone said that to her – it must have been after her priest Father Thomas got killed, got his head blown off right in front of her unless I miss my guess. Miss Julie's world must be a harsh, cold place, Ezra."

"This is her world now," the gambler insisted. He gripped the older man's arm. "Will you come help me try to make sense out of this mess, Josiah? Please?"

The hint of uncertainty – of fear, even – was still there, and it was more than Josiah could stand; he settled his callused hands on the soft indigo velvet of the new coat and looked down into widening emerald eyes. "I turned away from you the last time you asked for my help, son," he said slowly, his eyes burning at the memory. "But you have my word that it's a mistake I'll never make again. Understand?" Ezra's mouth opened and then closed with a snap; he swallowed hard and nodded, unable to speak. "Good; see that you remember," Josiah rumbled, giving the younger man a little shake for emphasis before releasing his hold. "Now let's go sort this situation out, and I want to meet this 'uncle' of Miss Julie's…"

The next few days were busy and surprising. Mrs. Abbott had refused to let Juliet work a full day while her uncle was in town, so she spent each afternoon and evening telling her fiancé, Josiah, Chris and the two secret service agents everything she could about the world she'd come from. West had been right about Juliet having seen things that were far beyond the stories told to him by his friend Jesse; he quickly discovered that his not-inconsiderable imagination hadn't stretched nearly far enough – her unquestioning acceptance of presidential scandal and corruption alone shocked him to the core. Gordon was disturbed by much of what he was hearing as well, but was just as equally thrilled by the scientific advances that the young woman told him about and made endless notes in hopes of duplicating some of them.

After two days of skirting around the subject, the five men finally decided to start asking more personal questions in hopes of finding out something that might give them a lead on the Baxter sisters…and got more than they bargained for. Josiah had guessed correctly about Father Thomas; the priest had been gunned down in cold blood during a hostage situation at the public school where he often volunteered as a tutor – and Juliet had been one of the hostages. Her halting account of ten hours spent watching one friend after another being violated and then killed more than explained why she had fled her home and family in St. Gabriel for the sprawling anonymity of Denver. Chris excused himself soon after that and retired to his table in the saloon to sit and stare at a glass of whiskey that he couldn't seem to remember to drink until Ezra joined him an hour later and kept reminding him until the bottle was gone. Josiah came in not long after that and the gambler shared another bottle with the two of them before heading up to his room at an hour much earlier than usual for him, having decided that if he wanted to snatch a few minutes alone with his fiancée it would have to be accomplished by meeting up with her on her way to work early the next morning. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, imagining how surprised she would be to see him waiting for her when she took her usual shortcut through the alley…

Ezra woke up slowly, wondering when his feather bed had gotten so hard. He could hear yelling and pounding footsteps; something must be happening in the saloon, he decided, and wondered sleepily if he should get up to investigate. His room was cold too, he must have left the window open by mistake…

The touch of a hand on his shoulder startled his eyes open, and he shut them again with a groan of protest, rolling over onto his back. Hangover, he decided. "Please, tell me ah'm not late for patrol," he muttered. "Just give me a minute…"

"Ezra!?"

Hmm, that was Buck – also apparently the owner of the hand that was now cupped against the side of his face; Ezra opened his eyes again, squinting against the throbbing pain in his head. "Buck? What…" He trailed off as a sliver of hot blue sky showing above the top of a wooden wall caught his attention. Wait a minute, I'm… Ezra sat bolt upright in alarm and was rewarded by a lightning-bolt of pain lancing through his skull, making him groan again and drop his head into his hands. "Oh god damn that hurts!"

Buck's hand had moved to his shoulder, steadying him. "You just take it easy, Ez, Nathan's comin'…"

The gambler's jaw clenched, and Buck felt the muscles under his hand tense. "It doesn't hurt that bad," he grated out, using the larger man to pull himself to his feet…and finding himself face to face with Chris. Ezra sighed, raising one hand to gingerly rub the knot on the back of his skull. "Ah've had worse."

"Yep," Larabee agreed quietly, giving him an odd look. "What do you remember, Ez?"

Ezra cocked an eyebrow – and winced. "Whoevah it was hit me from behind," he said slowly, frowning when the memory was slow in coming. "He was big…" He shrugged out from under Buck's grasp and stepped past Chris, eyes searching for something. "And there was another one, about Buck's size, and he was…he was…"

A gasp was the only warning they got, but luckily JD and Josiah were there to catch the gambler when his knees buckled. Ezra never even noticed them; his attention was riveted on a spot of disturbed ground four feet away…and on the dusty indigo-blue ribbon that had been trampled into it. His mouth opened but no sound came out.

Vin was looking at the ground too, a grim yet appreciative expression on his face. "She must've put up one hell of a fight," he said softly, shaking his head. "Looks of these tracks though, one of these guys was near as big as Josiah so I don't think it did her much good – but she tried, just the same." He lifted serious blue eyes to the worried gambler. "Ain't no blood here, Ez."

"Ah can see that, Vin," Ezra said slowly, his still slightly dazed green eyes going from the dusty alley at his feet to the road leading out of town. "Ah think they need her alive, or they would have killed her here."

Chris scowled. "The Baxter sisters."

"Ah would assume them to be behind this, yes," Ezra replied. "Considerin' their…uh, proclivities, ah don't think it would be any problem for the two of them to garner assistance from the local outlaw population. And we knew that someone had been watchin' the town."

"But why take Miss Julie?" JD wanted to know. "You think they want ransom?"

"No; they know that Mr. Gordon isn't her real uncle," the gambler answered distractedly. He shot Gordon a look, thinking of all the possibilities they'd discussed over the past three days. "Perhaps they need her to get home?"

The secret service agent nodded slowly. "Or to keep from going home," he mused unhappily. "We still don't know for certain how they got here, any of them; and much as the scientist in me hates to admit it, Juliet's story and the…mentality of the Baxter sisters could lead a person to believe that the Dark Arts were involved. If that is the case then they need her to seal the gate, one of the reasons we theorized she might have been brought here in the first place; I certainly can't think of any other motive they may have had aside from sheer malicious mischief."

Josiah was nodding and Chris looked troubled; Buck looked at Vin, JD and Nathan and saw his own confusion mirrored in their faces. "All right, you boys have left the rest of us behind," he said irritably. "Mind cluein' everyone else in?"

"I don't think we have a choice," Gordon said, biting his lip as he looked at Ezra. "They'll have to know what's going on, even if they don't believe it."

"Ah agree," the gambler told him. He sighed, looking around at his friends. "All right, you probably will have a hard time acceptin' this story, but hear me out. Juliet is not from this world…and neither are the Baxter sisters." He ignored the resulting exclamations of shock and disbelief. "They kidnapped her and brought her to our reality for reasons unknown; she escaped their clutches shortly after their arrival and made her way here to Four Corners. She had no idea where – or when – she was, and she was terrified to take anyone into her confidence lest they think she was insane. But she'd remembered hearin' of Agents Gordon and West in her own world, and she knew that if they were here, they would stop the Baxter sisters from doin' whatever mischief it was they had come here to accomplish."

"She sent me a letter, months ago," Gordon continued. "James and I were out of the country, however, and it was only a bare week ago that I received it. It was obvious to us that she didn't expect to return to wherever it was she came from, because she requested that I name myself as her uncle if I came here so as not to start gossip in the town – as she put it, 'because I live here now and must have a care for my reputation'." He sighed. "Her world is more than a hundred years in advance of ours, and from what she's told us of it it's no wonder a delicate creature like herself would prefer our reality over her own; apparently the Baxter sisters are no oddity there, but rather a single example of an overwhelming problem in their society."

"Juliet has encountered their kind before, and she is terrified of them," Ezra said quietly. "But she was even more afraid of what damage they could do to us, to our relatively innocent world. She had given up on hearin' from Mr. Gordon and was preparin' to take me into her confidence despite the possible consequences – that, and she said she could not in good conscience keep any secrets from the man she…" His voice broke, and he ran a shaking hand through his hair and swallowed hard before almost whispering, "From the man she was goin' to marry." Vin dropped a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and the gambler shook his head. "Ah'm all right."

"Like hell you are," Buck contradicted, pushing aside his shock. He grasped the smaller man's slumped shoulders with his large hands and shook him slightly. "I don't care if she's from another world or from the next town over, Ez; Miss Julie is your woman and we will get her back for you, understand? Nobody messes with a member of this family and gets away with it. Right, boys?"

"Right," JD chimed in without hesitation. "Them Baxter sisters are gonna rue the day."

"Amen to that," Josiah rumbled, moving closer to slip a strong arm around Ezra's shoulders. "Don't you worry, son, our little sister is going to be fine. See?" His other hand described a sweeping gesture. "No crows, not a one."

Ezra managed a small smile, briefly leaning into the comfort the older man offered. "No crows," he agreed.

"An' if I see any, I'll shoot 'em," Vin said decisively. "Or hell, we could just have Chris turn that famous glare of his on 'em, stare 'em right down out of the sky."

That got a general laugh from everyone except the gunslinger, who was doing his best to glare at Vin and not smile, and the scowling healer, who was shaking his head. "This ain't no jokin' matter," Nathan said with some irritation. "That girl's brought more that her share of trouble to this town…"

Lead-weighted silence descended on the group as green eyes snapped up, blazing with fury. "Ah warned you once," Ezra said in a quietly deadly voice. "Ah would have thought our last such 'discussion' had made more of an impression on you."

The taller man started but held his ground. "Ain't the same thing, Ez, an' you know it. She's bin lyin' since she got here, an' now you expect us to…"

"Juliet has not lied, not even once," the gambler interrupted sharply. "She simply told only the parts of her story which were believable – and she proved her more spectacular claims more than adequately once Agents Gordon and West arrived."

"Before that, even," Gordon corrected. "She mailed me the only piece of concrete evidence she had in the envelope along with her letter; I tested it rather thoroughly in my lab and had to conclude that it was authentic – surprising, but authentic." He reached into his jacket's inner pocket and pulled out the small shiny-faced card, handing it to Buck. "Look for yourselves; her date of birth is under the picture."

The tall cowboy took the card gingerly and looked it over, then whistled and passed it on to Vin, who handed it to JD; Nathan received it last. The healer examined it carefully on both sides, his eyebrows rising when he read the back. "What the…organ donor?! What kind of foolishness is this?"

Gordon plucked the card out of his hands and glanced at it before tucking it back into his pocket. "Imagine a world where medical science is so advanced," he said quietly. "That diseased or damaged organs can be replaced with healthy ones taken from accident victims – with prior permission, of course. Juliet tells me that every adult who receives a motorized vehicle license is offered this option, and many thousands of lives are saved each year by such posthumous 'donations'."

"Motorized vehicle?" JD asked.

"Horseless carriages, propelled by internal combustion engines – apparently the main method of transportation in her world."

Vin made a face. "Explains why she didn't know how to ride. But why would anyone from the future want to come back here an' make trouble. It don't make sense!"

"Yeah it does," Chris replied. "Law would've advanced along with everything else; they're lookin' for easy pickings."

"To the criminal mind, a situation such as this would look most invitin'," Ezra agreed, giving Nathan a final warning glare before looking at the other men. "And as two such minds are now in possession of that which I hold most dear, perhaps it is time we showed them the error of such thinkin'."

"Get the horses; we're ridin' out," Chris ordered. "They're already at least two, three hours ahead of us." He snagged Nathan's arm and held him back as the others hurried to the livery. "No, not you; you're stayin' here."

The healer froze. "What do you mean, I'm stayin' here? Y'all might need me…"

Larabee gave him an irritated look. "You honestly think Ezra would let you anywhere near Miss Julie, Nathan? Hell, I'm not sure any of us would now." He stalked off after the others, calling over his shoulder at the shocked man, "I warned you too, Nate, and you're damn lucky – or didn't you see Josiah holdin' Ezra's gun in his holster after you called Miss Julie a liar?"

Nathan stood in the alley for a long time after the man in the black duster disappeared, thinking; he only returned to his clinic after he heard the horses thunder out of town. Looking around the small, hot room, remembering all the times he had fought there to save the life of one of his friends, he had to wonder how the chasm between them had grown so wide…

Sinking down on the edge of the bed, dropping his head into hands that had all too often been stained with the lifeblood of the men he rode with, Nathan honestly didn't know if it was a gap they would be able to bridge…or if any of them were going to want to.

End of Part Five / On to Part Six

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