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Ezra leaned back in the chair he was occupying and sighed, watching quiet dawn ease into busy morning from his seat in front of the saloon. He’d told himself he was going to sleep in, wasn’t going to get up until at least ten and maybe not even until noon; the day would have been half over that way, he would have had less time to wait. But in spite of that intention he’d been up with the sun and was now looking forward to a long day with too much on his mind. He’d tried to order his thoughts and that had only made it worse.

First off was Juliet’s absence from town, of course. She and Mary would most likely be starting out from Eagle Bend soon with an eye to arriving back home early that same evening. If Ezra had been unhappy about the two of them alone on the trail before, he’d discovered he was even more worried by the idea that they now had a wagonload of supplies that would make them a very attractive target for any outlaws that happened by. Not that there had been any outlaws around lately, but just because no one had seen them didn’t mean they weren’t there. And he was trying very hard not to think about Catie Baxter – he’d been trying for the past two days but it wasn’t doing much good.

Thinking of the missing Baxter sister led him directly to thoughts of his even more dangerous mother. The entire town was buzzing with talk of the wedding, and it was a given that word of Ezra getting married had already spread much farther than that – hell, he himself had sent off a stack of letters telling people about it! But what was Maude going to do when she found out? Would she concentrate her efforts on destroying her son or would she try to hurt his friends as she had the last time? He shuddered internally at the memory of how close things had come to complete disaster during that incident, especially for Vin. Or this time would she simply try to kill Juliet? Another shudder, this one visible. Ezra was afraid of his mother and she knew it; she was unpredictable and could be ruthless when it came to getting her own way…and she knew all his weaknesses, every last one. The only thing that was even remotely making Ezra feel better about this part of the situation was the thought of what Juliet’s brother and uncle would do to Maude if she tried anything – whether she was successful or not. Ezra smiled slightly; it was so easy to forget that the two men weren’t actually related to his fiancée. But he was thankful that they felt the way they did about her, that they were willing to be a new family to Juliet in lieu of the one she had been so violently torn away from. Now if only he could be certain that Maude wouldn’t make her a widow out of spite…

The third and final problem weighing on his mind was Nathan. He’d been avoiding the healer for a variety of reasons, the temptation to call him out and shoot him down like a dog in the street being chief among them. Four Corners was a small town, people talked; people had talked about several comments Nathan had made after the ‘incident’ of two months ago and Ezra still wasn’t quite sure he could trust himself around the man if they were alone and anything else was said. He didn’t want to kill a man for having his foot in his mouth – or his head up his ass, as the case may be – nor did he want to lose control of his own temper and say something it was possible he might regret later. Ezra took a sip of his cooling coffee, grimaced in distaste and then tossed the remainder out into the dusty street and watched the dry ground swallow it up. He knew that Nathan had been asking questions about him lately, trying to find things out, and he wished he knew the reason behind the sudden interest in his person. Was the healer investigating him with an eye toward gathering some sort of evidence to put himself in the right, or was he feeling guilty and trying to atone somehow? Ezra couldn’t be sure, but he knew he didn’t trust Nathan, had never really trusted him, and had so far managed to avoid any situation where he would be helpless in the healer’s power. And he had even more reason to be careful now that he was fairly certain Nathan knew he’d fought in the War; the desire for revenge could overwhelm even the most sensible of men, and lately Nathan Jackson had proven himself to be positioned quite a ways distant from that particular mark.

The clunk of heavy boots alerted Ezra that he wasn’t alone with his thoughts anymore, and he wasn’t actually too surprised to realize that he’d just been joined by the man he’d been thinking so diffidently about. “Mr. Jackson,” he drawled, his inflection marking the greeting as a polite nothing and not an invitation to remain.

“Ezra.” The healer sounded slightly wary. “You’re up awful early this mornin’.”

Ezra started to take another sip of coffee and belatedly remembered the cup was empty. He favored the speckled tinware with an irritated frown and returned his attention to the horizon.

Nathan tried again. “You havin’ trouble sleepin’?” He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but the little bit he’d gleaned from Vin about the gambler’s past medical history and the uncharacteristic melancholy he’d seen Ezra displaying the previous afternoon had shaped part of his guilt in the direction of professional concern. “You feelin’ okay?”

Ezra sighed and turned partially around to look up at him. “Mr. Jackson, pardon my bluntness…but is there something I can do for you?”

Brown eyes narrowed, but Nathan just managed to hold back the retort that he normally would have delivered; he might still be having trouble remembering to censor himself around the others, but Ezra was the one who’d been ready to draw down on him the last time he’d shot off his mouth and that had made a definite impression on the healer’s memory. He picked his words carefully. “You just ain’t been actin’ quite yourself lately. Saw you out here and thought I’d ask you about it, that’s all.”

“Indeed.” Ezra still wasn’t quite to the point of being really rude, but he knew he was getting close. “So this is a professional inquiry? In that case you may be rest assured that I am in excellent health and have no need of your services, thank you.”

If he’d hoped that would make the healer leave, he was disappointed. Nathan shuffled his feet a little on the boardwalk. “You’d tell me if you did?”

“That would greatly depend on the circumstances, Mr. Jackson,” Ezra answered evenly, surprising the other man. He stood up. “Now if you will excuse me, I am in need of a fresh cup of coffee.”

Nathan frowned, not stepping aside when Ezra attempted to go past him. “You know no matter what differences we might have I wouldn’t do you no harm, you know that.”

Ezra stiffened, his thoughts of a moment before coming back to him, then firmly but not violently pushed the healer out of his way and continued on into the saloon without looking back. “Ah wish ah could say that ah did, Mr. Jackson.”

Well, guess it ain’t time for me to apologize yet, Nathan thought, torn between sadness and irritation. He didn’t really like being at odds with anyone for any length of time, at least not when he wasn’t in the right and certainly not like this. Knowing that Ezra most likely wouldn’t come back out until he was gone, the healer continued on his way over to the church, which was where he’d been headed when he’d spotted the gambler on the boardwalk.

The old adobe church was cool and quiet, and when he slipped in through the door Nathan could hear the faint sounds of Josiah pottering around in the back. He was careful not to let the door slam behind him, but knew that even the slight creak of the hinges was enough to alert his friend that someone had entered; Nathan liked to call it Josiah’s ‘preacher instinct’. Sure enough, the big man almost immediately appeared in the main room, wiping his hands on a rag. “Good morning, Brother.” Then he frowned and cocked his head, looking critically at his friend. “Isn’t it a bit early in the morning for something to be bothering you?”

Nathan shook his head. “I just stopped off in front of the saloon to talk to Ezra, that’s all. Saw him sittin’ out there on the boardwalk just starin’ off into space, thought he might be feelin’ a little poorly.”

Josiah chuckled and shook his head. “Only thing that ails that boy right now is the distance between here and Eagle Bend – he wasn’t staring into space, brother, he was looking down the road. Bet he was facin’ west, wasn’t he?”

Nathan was surprised by that, and then it registered. “Lookin’ off in the direction of Eagle Bend, yeah.” Then he scowled. “You’d think the man didn’t trust her or somethin’.”

“I think it’s the rest of the world he doesn’t trust.” Josiah’s amusement dropped away abruptly. “You can’t say it hasn’t given him good reason, especially where our little sister is concerned. I expect he won’t be quite himself until she’s safe and sound at home tonight – and I know for a fact he’s taking this night’s patrol at his own request, if so much as a mouse gets close to the dry goods store he’ll probably shoot it. You want some tea?”

“Thanks.” Nathan followed him into the back and gratefully accepted the mug of steaming liquid, sipping appreciatively. “Feel like I should keep an eye on him though, ‘case that swamp fever comes back…”

“He won’t let it come back,” the preacher rumbled at once. At Nathan’s skeptical look he let out an exasperated sigh. “Nate, he hasn’t had a relapse in six years and he told me he doesn’t plan on having another one ever again if he can help it.” Then he chuckled again. “Said the experience of bein’ an invalid for weeks on end was ‘highly overrated’.”

It was the healer’s turn to shake his head. “Knowin’ that stubborn Southern fool he probably just tried to ride it out, didn’t take no medicine or nothin’ and made himself a burden on someone for no good reason.” He almost dropped his tea when Josiah reached out and smacked him on the head much like Buck usually did to JD. “Hey, what was that?!”

“Exactly what you think it was,” Josiah reprimanded. “A timely reminder not to talk before you think; worked wonders on young brother Dunne, maybe it’ll do the same for you. Now try that again. Do you even know what the remedy for swamp fever is?”

Nathan took a deep breath, ignoring his friend’s grin when he sidled back a little to be out of arm’s reach. “I looked it up after I had that talk with Vin, it’s some kind of bark. Never heard of it before, but I figured probably some willow bark…”

“No.” The healer’s eyebrows went up and Josiah made a face at him. “You might be able to ease the symptoms a little – and I do mean might – with willow bark or with that fever tea of yours, but cinchona bark is the only stuff that will kick swamp fever and it’s mighty hard to get; it comes from South America. Brother Ezra says it’s easier just to avoid gettin’ sick in the first place than it is to get hold of the cure, so that’s what he does.” This time he laughed outright at the look on Nathan’s face, but not entirely pleasantly. “Brother, all of us were taking care of ourselves long before we met you, you shouldn’t be so surprised.”

“Guess not,” Nathan admitted slowly. “I asked Buck once if he’d ever got…well, one of those sicknesses a man with his habits would be likely to get, could have knocked me over with a feather when he told me he’d had it more than a few times but this old sailor man he’d met taught him how to take care of it. And Vin carts around herbs of his own in his saddlebags, says he learned how to use ‘em from the Indians.” He didn’t add that the tracker had been rather adamant about his own remedies being better than Nathan’s, or that Buck had offered to teach him the trick for dealing with the recurrent affliction of the promiscuous and Nathan had told him no. He didn’t think he wanted to hear Josiah’s opinion of either of those incidents.

“There you go.” Josiah took a long drink of tea. “Now what else was it on your mind?”

Nathan gave him a dirty look over the rim of his mug. “You’re in full preacher mode this mornin’, ain’t you?” He shrugged when the big man nodded solemnly. “Oh all right, know you won’t be leavin’ me alone about it until I tell you. Just startin’ to make me kind of mad that Ezra won’t let it go, let all of us get back to the way things were before little Miss Julie showed up an’ brought all that trouble along with her. He claims to be a gentleman…”

“And he’s acting like one – you’re still alive.” Josiah refilled his own mug from the kettle. “Nathan, how many times do we have to go over this? What you did…any other man would have called you out right then and there and then spit on your corpse when it was over. But Ezra ain’t gonna do that because this town needs seven men and one of those is a healer, the only one for miles; the boy is not gonna put a point of honor over the well-being of everyone livin’ in this town. So instead he warned you off publicly and made sure it was clear that you should keep your distance from him and Miss Julie.” He hid a smile in his tea. “Of course, I’d imagine he’s also keepin’ you at arms length until he’s sure he won’t kill you with his bare hands for makin’ some stupid remark, kind of like the one you just made.” The startled healer choked a bit on the tea he’d just swallowed and glared at him. “No, don’t look at me like that,” Josiah continued implacably. “Miss Julie didn’t bring trouble with her and she’s certainly caused none herself – just the opposite, I’d have to say. And as for trouble coming after her here, well I’d have to say that only he who’s without that particular following can rightly cast the first stone; ain’t a one of us hasn’t had some kind of trouble catch up to us because we settled in this town, at least our little sister came by hers innocently and not because of her own actions. And whether you like her or not, she’s a good, decent woman and she’s more than earned her place in this town.”

“I don’t dislike her,” Nathan felt he had to point out. “I ain’t denyin’ that she’s done some good things since she got here, but I don’t know what made her want to do them so I ain’t inclined to trust her too much.”

Josiah nodded thoughtfully; the healer had often made a similar comment about Ezra, refusing to give the gambler credit for the good that he did because the man wouldn’t explain his motives for doing it. “So you’ve asked her about it, then? And she wouldn’t give you an answer?”

Nathan blinked at him. “Well, no, not real recent like,” he admitted. “Tried to that one time here in the church, though, and she backed off from me and wouldn’t say a word and then took off like she thought I was gonna be chasin’ her or somethin’.”

“Because you came stomping in while she was alone and scared the daylights out of her,” the preacher informed him, holding up a hand to silence the healer’s immediate objection. “You were all worked up from Mrs. Travis telling you our little sister was wanting to go teach the children up at the village and I know you, Nathan; I might not have been in here to see it but I have no doubt you didn’t so much as introduce yourself, just started demanding to know what she was up to. Try to imagine how that must have looked from Miss Julie’s viewpoint; little bit of a thing like her sitting flat on the floor thinking about something else when this huge black man appears out of nowhere and looms over her snarling out questions?” He snorted as he saw his friend’s eyes widen. “Nathan, you’re lucky she didn’t faint dead away – most women would have. Have you ever tried to talk to her since?”

“No. Well…no, no I haven’t.” The healer looked slightly ashamed of himself. “Didn’t figure she wanted nothin’ to do with no Negro, after that.”

The preacher sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you that where Miss Julie’s from it’s considered a sort of character flaw to harbor any sort of bigotry toward your fellow man?” He dropped a large hand on Nathan’s shoulder and shook him lightly. “It’s your size and your attitude that make her nervous, brother, not the color of your skin.”

Nathan nodded, thinking that over; Josiah had mention it before, and it could be true that he’d read into the little woman’s behavior more of what he expected than what was actually there. They didn’t know much about where she was from, things could be like she’d said they were. “That’s not Ezra’s problem, though.”

Josiah fought the urge to smack him again. “And you accuse him of not being willing to let things go. He made one comment one time and never explained it – nor did any one of us to my knowledge ever ask him to – and yet you’re still holding it up as proof positive that he has the same problem you do.” He ignored the scowl that accusation produced. “Well we all know what it was about now, brother, it was about the soldiers who killed his family coupled with your unfortunate tendency to boast about how you fought for the Union when most men want to forget they were ever in the War to begin with. Rosa May was amazed the boy could bring himself to ride with you at all.” The healer’s scowl deepened and Josiah sighed again, suddenly tired. “Oh not that again, I though we’d at least settled that one to rest. The Good Book warns us against sitting in judgment, Nathan,” he said, dropping a heavy hand on the healer’s shoulder and squeezing. “To do so is not only a sin against our fellow man, it’s a sin against God – it’s you telling the Lord that you’re on equal footing with him.”

Nathan pulled away from him. “I ain’t one to do that and you know it, Josiah; I don’t want to set myself up better than anyone, ain’t never tried to say I was! I just think that folks should try to do what’s right by everyone, ought to speak up plain about themselves and what they’re doin’…”

Josiah cocked an eyebrow at him. “You mean, you think they should be more like you?”

“Well yeah, if they’d just…” The healer suddenly realized what he was saying and grimaced, his dark skin concealing his embarrassment. “You know I didn’t mean no such thing.”

“Kind of sounded like it there for a minute, though; maybe I just wanted you to hear it too.” The preacher set his empty mug aside and took the kettle off the stove. “You know, if you’re going to come to me to complain, brother, you’ve got to expect me to answer you back.”

“Just wish I could expect you take my side once in a while, been a while since you done that,” Nathan grumbled, finishing off his tea.

Much to his irritation, Josiah winked at him. “You can and I will and I have…when you’re right. But I have to say you ain’t been in that position too often lately and it’s getting a mite tiresome.”

The healer froze. “I don’t have to come talk to you.”

“I want you to come talk to me, Nathan,” Josiah told him firmly, taking the empty mug from his hand. “But I’d like it if you’d accept the truth and start learnin’ from your mistakes so maybe we could talk about other things once in a while; I keep leadin’ that horse of yours to water and he keeps spittin’ it out and grazin’ on loco weed instead.”

Nathan knew he sounded sulky, but he couldn’t help it. “You jus’ tell me what you believe about things, your truth. I ain’t sure what’s the truth, I’m just tryin’ to figure it out.” He made a face, feeling both embarrassed and angry; he was glad now he hadn’t told Josiah what Ezra had said about not trusting him, he didn’t want to hear the ‘truth’ that went along with that. “I gotta get back to the clinic, got work to do.”

“I’ll most likely see you at lunchtime, then.” Josiah followed the healer to the door, patting his shoulder as he left but not saying anything else. Once the door had closed he began to count, a soft chant under his breath until he reached fifty and he was sure Nathan was well away from the church, and then he swung his fist and impacted the wall hard enough to shatter the plaster. “I’m sorry, Lord,” he murmured, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. “It was either your wall or him.”

Juliet and Mary had gotten an early start, but they had barely been on the road an hour when they saw a rider coming up on them from the direction of Eagle Bend. At first both women were worried, but when the mounted man drew close enough to be more than a vague silhouette Juliet relaxed and shoved the rifle that sat between them back under the wagon seat. “It’s just Mr. Sullivan, I wonder what brings him out of town at this hour? Maybe we should stop…”

Mary’s eyebrows went up. “Mr. Sullivan the gambler?”

“Lawyer,” Juliet corrected. “He’s a friend of Ezra’s, Mary. Do you think we should stop? If he is coming after us it would be rude not to.”

“I suppose so.” Mary reined in the horses and looked back over her shoulder again at the approaching rider. “We barely spoke to the man in town, though; friend of Mr. Standish or not, I can’t think why he’d be riding after us...” The younger woman bit her lip, and Mary filled in the blank in a flash. “Is that where you were yesterday morning so early? What business could you have possibly had with a lawyer and whatever possessed you go alone?”

Juliet’s chin lifted and a flush of color stained her cheeks. “I realize they all told you to look after me, Mary, but I am not a child,” she insisted. “I was curious about something and I remembered Ezra mentioning Mr. Sullivan, so I went to see him. He was very helpful and every inch a gentleman.”

The newspaperwoman made the connection with their conversation two days before almost immediately. “You didn’t…”

“No woman deserves to be forced into prostitution,” the younger woman shot back. “It’s all well and good to say how horrible the situation is, but as my grandmother used to say if you don’t back talk up with action then all it amounts to is idle complaining. I asked Mr. Sullivan if it was a case he could resolve and he said he thought it was. He was to have sent some telegrams off yesterday to begin gathering the information he’ll need to take it before a judge.”

“I’d say he may have found some,” Mary said with a frown, looking back at the approaching rider again before returning her attention to her companion. “But you still should have told me. It wasn’t proper for you to go see him alone like that.”

Juliet frowned back, not giving in. “Of course it was, he’s a lawyer – I don’t need a chaperone to visit a lawyer.”

“He’s a gambler, though…” Mary realized what she was saying at the same time Juliet arched one eyebrow at her – in amusement, not offense – and then they both laughed. “Oh all right, I see your point,” the newspaperwoman relented, shaking her head. “But you still took an awful chance, going out alone like that – because you’re a young woman and Eagle Bend is a much larger town than Four Corners, not because I think you’re a child who needs to be chaperoned. So what did Mr. Sullivan think he could do for the girls?”

“One divorce and one annulment,” was the pleased answer. “And he thinks he can get Molly transferred over to someone else’s custody until she’s of age.”

“Custody?” Mary’s smile dropped away abruptly, replaced by a look of absolute horror. She remembered Juliet saying that the man who had ‘married’ both Meg and Becky had adopted Molly, but she’d thought that was… “But isn’t she…I mean, she’s been…”

“Molly is just fifteen.” Juliet looked every bit as disgusted by that as the older woman felt. “That horrid beast of a man ‘adopted’ her at twelve, I think even hanging is too good for him.”

The older woman was still dumbfounded. “But she looks so much older…”

Juliet snorted. “Wouldn’t you? Meg and Becky have tried to spare her all they could, but there isn’t much else she can do. She can barely read and write, and Meg has been trying to teach her sewing but Molly doesn’t have any more talent with a needle than I do so that isn’t working at all.”

Mary could see why it wouldn’t be; for someone who was so adept at all the other housewifely arts, Juliet’s complete ineptitude with a needle and thread was almost laughable. She made a face. “There has to be something for her other than…what she’s doing now, even if it’s just sweeping up a shop or washing dishes in a kitchen.”

“True, but opportunities are limited in Four Corners so it’s going to be a difficult task to figure out what that something is,” was Juliet’s reply. The approaching rider was almost upon them by that time, and she raised her voice. “Hello, Mr. Sullivan!”

“Miss Moore, Mrs. Travis,” the gambler replied, pulling his horse up alongside the wagon and tipping his hat. “I apologize for riding out after you in this unseemly manner, but I had some news I thought Miss Moore might want to carry home with her.”

Juliet beamed. “You heard something back already?”

“From Salt Lake City, no less,” was the pleased answer. “The Mormons aren’t happy that their name is being used to perpetrate something like this, apparently they have enough problems with their reputation already without this sort of thing added to the mix. They’re not only giving us their full cooperation, they’ve insisted on paying my fee as well. So I’ll be refunding the retainer you gave me, Miss Moore.”

He held out a small pouch, which Juliet took wonderingly. “They got back to you this quickly about it?”

“Apparently the message I sent yesterday made it all the way to Brigham Young himself,” Sullivan told her. He saw the look that crossed Mary’s face and laughed. “I know, Mrs. Travis. But I’m sure those girls in Four Corners don’t care how many wives the man has if he gets them out of their situation.”

“I suppose not,” Mary replied dryly. “I suppose they also offered to have the girls come to Utah?”

“They’ll suggest it later on, I’m sure,” he told her. “For right now, though, the one they want in Utah is the girls’ ‘husband’ Mr. Jenkins and heaven help the man if they get him there – from what I’ve heard, he’d be better off being captured by Apaches than being hauled in by Young’s men.”

“What will happen if we catch him first?” Juliet wanted to know.

Sullivan cleared his throat. “He’ll either get sent to prison down here or shipped back East to one of theirs, I’d guess a sentence of about three or four years. I have to say, though, that after the story you told me I’d prefer for the Mormons to have him, make an example out of him that might stop the next fellow who tries to pull a trick like this. A woman’s lot in life is hard enough in this part of the country without a fellow like Jenkins making it harder.”

Juliet smiled up at him. “I appreciate your riding out this early to tell me what was going on, Mr. Sullivan. I’m sure the girls will be ecstatic when they hear the news.”

“Just so long as they aren’t ecstatic in public,” he warned. “Remember to tell them what I told you, not a word of this can get out until everything is in place or we might end up giving the snake a way to slither out of our trap. If they want him gone for good they’re going to have to be patient and stay quiet.”

“I’ll make sure they understand that,” Juliet assured him. She held out her hand, which he took and, to her surprise, kissed. “I know you probably want to be getting back to town, Mr. Sullivan, so we won’t keep you. Will you be coming to the wedding Wednesday after next?”

“I will most certainly try,” he assured her, starting to turn his horse back toward Eagle Bend. He tipped his hat again. “You ladies be careful today, have a safe trip back…” Both women nodded, but neither of them looked overly concerned and the gambler hesitated; then his jaw set and he nudged his horse’s head around so that he was facing them again. “Miss Moore, some might say this is none of my business and they’d most likely be right, but,” he took a deep breath, “how much has your husband-to-be told you about Maude Standish?”

Juliet looked surprised by the question. “He told me…what she does, and that she tried to stop him gettin’ married before. And I know she went to a lot of trouble to steal his saloon.”

“Well, that’s something anyway,” Sullivan said with a sigh. “I don’t know anything about a first marriage, but as far as the other goes ‘a lot of trouble’ isn’t even the half of it. I can understand why they’ve kept quiet about it, but the plan Ezra’s mother set into motion to get that saloon away from him hinged on getting the other lawmen too distracted to interfere…and to accomplish that Miss Maude tracked down the man who’d framed Mr. Tanner for murder and pointed him in the direction of Four Corners. Make no mistake, ladies, she knew she was engineering an innocent man’s death when she did it.”

“Oh my Lord,” Mary whispered. Juliet had turned pale, and the newspaperwoman put a comforting hand on her arm. “Mr. Sullivan, why are you telling us this?”

“Because Miss Moore needs to know,” the gambler said flatly. “You’ll pardon me saying it, but your men are fools for letting the two of you come out here alone like this and you can tell them I said so – and Sheriff James agrees with me. Word is getting around about the wedding and just because Four Corners is so well-protected doesn’t mean you’re safe just because you’re from there. Maude Standish is one of the smartest con artists this side of the Mississippi and she’s not going to give you any warning before she strikes, if you get my meaning. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble today, but you keep that gun handy just the same. It doesn’t pay to take chances if you don’t have to.”

Juliet nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “Thank you for the warning, Mr. Sullivan, I much appreciate it.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up in a roguish smile. “You’re most welcome, but it is in my best interest to look out for a paying client.” He tipped his hat politely. “You ladies have a safe trip home.”

He rode away at a leisurely pace until the wagon was well out of sight, then kicked his horse into a gallop and was back in town in well less than an hour. Once his horse was put up he went straight to the jail instead of to his office or the saloon. Sheriff James was waiting for him. “Well?” the older man asked.

“Road is clear,” the gambler told him, dropping into the visitors’ chair and accepting the cup of coffee James offered him. “And they’re being careful, they spotted me coming from quite a ways off and got that rifle out – Miss Moore might not be able to fire it, but I know for a fact Mrs. Travis can.”

“Good.” The sheriff sat back in his chair and put his booted feet up on his desk, shaking his head. “If I’d heard that talk about Standish’s mother sooner I would have kept a closer watch on things the past couple days. Never thought I’d hear myself say that saloon talk don’t spread fast enough for me, but this time it sure as hell didn’t.”

“Last night is better than not at all,” Sullivan told him with a shrug. “How about the rest of it, were you able to catch Miss Janey alone this morning?”

James smiled broadly around the rim of his coffee cup. “Yep,” he said. “Looks like she and the kid are moving to Four Corners next week, she’s gonna be the new cook at the hotel down there. I told her she made the right choice; I know Jen Abbott and she’s never in her life been like that Murphy woman is. And since that Jackson fella’s been doin’ everybody’s doctoring down that way for near four years there won’t be quite as many have a problem with coloreds as we’ve been getting here.”

The gambler snorted. “There weren’t so many ready to speak up publicly about it until the Murphys moved into town, it’s amazing to me how two bad apples can spoil a basket.” He sipped at his coffee thoughtfully. “They’re going to pitch a fit when they find out.

“Let them. I convinced Janey not to tell them anything – she always closes up the kitchen anyway, she can just leave them a note before she goes. There’ll be less trouble that way.” The sheriff frowned. “Only problem is, she won’t get all her pay if she does it like that.”

Sullivan smiled. “Why don’t you let me handle that end of things, Sheriff? Can I consider fair value to be the price the mercantile puts on things?”

James cocked his head. “Should I ask?”

“Probably not, no.” The gambler shrugged. “But there is precedent for such situations, fortunately, and if need be I can produce enough evidence to support that to make doing nothing your official responsibility.”

“Good, I like to keep things easy,” the older man said with a grin. “Guess that’s another reason I let you hang around my town, Sullivan.”

Sullivan chuckled into his coffee. “Because it would be more trouble than it was worth to run me out or because you actually find my devious nature to be useful to you?”

A wicked gleam appeared in James’ eyes. “I’d have to say that depends on what day it is, let me get back to you on that one. Of course I might be swayed a bit in my opinion if you wanted someone to accompany you to that wedding I’m sure you’re planning to go to; I hear they have some mighty fine cooks down in Four Corners besides the one they’re stealing from us, and I surely wouldn’t mind an excuse to see Jen Abbott again…”

The long hot day passed with agonizing slowness for all concerned, both on the road and in Four Corners. Mindful of Sullivan’s warning, Juliet and Mary stopped less frequently than they might have done and kept a careful eye on their surroundings; but the road was clear, and except for an occasional wagon heading back the way they’d come they saw no one at all. Ezra had noticed the same quiet when he’d ridden the noon patrol and had been relieved by it; he’d been equally relieved to receive a telegram from his fellow gambler in Eagle Bend saying that the two women had gotten off early that morning and that Sullivan and Sheriff James were keeping an eye on the road from their end.

It was still a long, hot day though. After finishing the midday meal his compatriots and the ever-vigilant Mrs. Abbott had forced him to eat Ezra took over minding the jail from Buck and settled in to wait for JD to relieve him. He was idly flipping his cards back and forth through his hands when the young sheriff blew in late in the afternoon with his hands full of envelopes and the week’s delivery of wanted posters. “Mail came!” JD announced. “You got a letter from Carson City, Ez.” It made the younger man happy to see the smile that lit up Ezra’s face when he handed over the envelope, although he wasn’t sure why the gambler’s poker face came back once he’d started reading the letter. “So when will Rosa May get here?”

Ezra folded the letter back up and tucked it away inside his coat. “It appears she will not be comin’ after all,” he said quietly. “She sends her regrets, but a rancher in the area has just lost his wife in childbirth and their help is needed to hold the family together – apparently Mr. Cartwright is not bearin’ up too well as this is not the first wife he’s lost.” He looked troubled for a moment and then put his cards into his pocket. “Unless you have need of me, then, ah believe ah shall be about mah business.”

“I’m sorry Rosa May can’t come to the wedding,” JD said sincerely. “I know you wanted her here.”

The gambler smiled ruefully. “One does not always get what they want, JD – but as long as mah mother does not see fit to grace us with her presence on this occasion ah shall still consider mahself to be fortunate indeed. And Rosa May will no doubt come for a visit as soon as she can be spared; ah understand how devastatin’ the loss of a wife can be, and at the moment ah fear Mr. Cartwright needs her far more than ah do.”

And with that he put his hat back on and left the jail…and a disturbed sheriff in his wake. JD took the chair the gambler had vacated and ran over the conversation in his head, trying to fix a meaning to the troubled look that had flashed across Ezra’s face. It hit him all at once. “Not the first…aw damn, Ez,” he murmured. “Just had to give you one more thing to worry about, didn’t I?”

Ezra was trying very hard not to worry about it as he walked slowly up the boardwalk toward the saloon; he wasn’t actually heading for the saloon, it was just his habit to walk that way and instinct had taken over in the absence of decision. He barely managed to acknowledge the pair of worn boots that fell into step with him. “Mr. Tanner.”

“Geez, don’t look at a fella and then won’t call him by his first name either,” the tracker scolded, amusement in his voice. “Heard the kid say you got mail from Carson City, I’m guessin’ it wasn’t good news. She ain’t comin’?”

“She can’t – someone needs her there.”

“Someone needs her here, too.” Vin took his friend’s arm and guided him on into the saloon and to a seat at their regular table where Chris was already sitting. “You sharin’ your whiskey today, cowboy?”

“I could buy you boys a drink, I suppose,” Larabee chuckled. He took in the gambler’s subdued demeanor and cocked a questioning eyebrow at Vin, who shrugged and went to get two more glasses. “Problem, Ez?”

“Thinkin’, unfortunately,” was the subdued response. Ezra perked up enough to take the glass Vin brought him, but once it was filled he simply sat and stared into the amber liquid instead of drinking it. “A pastime ah’ve had a bit too much of the past few days.”

The tracker gave him a long look…and then held out his hand. “Hand it over, this ain’t gettin’ us nowhere.”

To Larabee’s surprise Ezra sighed and reached inside his jacket, extracting an envelope and handing it to the tracker. “A letter?” he asked. “From who?”

“Rosa May,” Vin told him, pulling the folded paper out of the envelope and frowning at it. “Damn, I wish everyone penned their letters like this, big enough for a fella to make out easy. Okay, so she’s sorry she can’t come, she really wanted to be here and she’ll be comin’ down to meet your new wife once everything up there in Carson is settled again.” He shook his head and handed the letter over to Chris, his frown becoming confused. “You know this Cartwright fella, Ez?”

“No, ah’m afraid not,” the gambler said quietly, still staring into his whiskey instead of drinking it. “But you have to agree that Rosa May’s presence is more necessary to his situation than it is to mine.”

Vin snorted. “I guess you could say that, but for someone who’s so understanding about the lady who’s like a ma to him not comin’ to his wedding, I’d have to say you’re not takin’ this as well as you want to be.”

“That isn’t it, Vin.” Chris set the letter aside and leaned forward to grasp the gambler’s wrist, lowering his voice. “Ezra, now you listen to me; you are not going to kill your wife, do you hear?” He ignored Vin’s gasp. “Sometimes a woman dies birthing a baby, I won’t deny it. But most of them don’t, and it wouldn’t surprise me if the one you’re marrying had hers Indian style right in the kitchen and was baking a birthday cake for it when you came home for lunch. Hell, your mother probably had you sitting at a poker table and then tried to place you as a bet!”

Ezra smiled slightly. “Actually, ah’ve been told ah was born rather mundanely at home, in spite of Mother’s wish to be someplace more entertainin’.” A twinkle appeared in his green eyes. “But ah have no doubt your supposition would have been near to correct had she been able to finagle her way out of the house; she has often complained that mah birth was a dreadful inconvenience to her.”

“She may have been inconvenienced, but she ain’t dead,” Vin told him, understanding now. “This here Cartwright guy Rosa May is helping, maybe his women were sickly, maybe he don’t take good care of ‘em like he should, we don’t have no way of knowin’ what’s goin’ on with him. But he ain’t you, pard.”

“Nope, he ain’t,” Chris agreed. He leaned back in his chair again and frowned. “Too bad Rosa May ain’t coming, though.”

Vin laughed and so did Ezra at the slightly plaintive note that had entered the gunslinger’s voice. “Mary just ain’t got the hang of that okra soup yet, does she?” the tracker teased him.

Chris grimaced good-humoredly and applied himself to his whiskey. “Nope. But she won’t quit tryin’, either.”

The three men whiled away the rest of the afternoon over Chris’ bottle of whiskey and only left the saloon when said bottle had been emptied. They were heading back to the jail to check the new wanted posters when Ezra saw the wagon pulled up in front of his house and the step he’d been about to take somehow failed to connect with the ground; if Chris and Vin hadn’t been there, he most likely would have fallen off the boardwalk. “They’re back…”

“Yep.” Chris shared a wink with Vin and the two of them carefully steered the gambler down the street toward the wagon. “Right on time, I’d say.”

“Snap out of it, Ez,” Vin ordered quietly, using his hold on the man’s arm to shake him lightly. “Gonna scare the poor woman if you don’t.”

The two women had just finished dragging a rocking chair out of the back of the wagon when they saw the three men. Juliet’s face lit up. “Ezra!”

Decorum deserted him; Ezra strode across the distance that separated them and swept her into an embrace that was almost fierce, not even noticing Mary’s startled exclamation or Vin’s laugh. He rested his forehead against hers and shut his eyes, just drinking in her nearness, her presence. “Ah missed you,” he whispered. “Oh Lord, did ah evah miss you. Please don’t evah leave me again.”

She kissed the tip of his nose. “Next time you’ll be able to go with me, ma cher.” Pulling back slightly, she took a good look at him. “You were all right while I was gone, weren’t you?”

“No, not at all,” he answered honestly. “Ah thank you for the little missive you saw fit to leave with me, though.”

Juliet blushed. “And ah thank you for the bubble bath, it was such a wonderful surprise.”

“That was mah intention,” Ezra smiled down at her. “Ah trust the hotel lived up to my recommendation?”

“It most certainly did!” Then she frowned, a little worry line drawing itself between her brows. “That…that woman who runs the restaurant leaves much to be desired, though.”

Ezra echoed her frown, moving over to the wagon to help with the packages. “I am sorry, I should have thought to warn you about that. I’ve wished more than once while visiting that establishment that Miss Janey the cook could find other employment, no person should have to work under such vitriolic conditions.”

“It looks like you got your wish then, Mr. Standish,” Mary commented dryly, but with a twinkle in her blue eyes as she swept past him. “Mr. Larabee, Mr. Tanner, if the two of you could put that crate in the kitchen…”

“I’m glad you already know her, then,” Juliet hedged, toying with one of the buttons on his vest. “She might feel more at ease if there’s a familiar face around…”

Ezra caught the fidgeting hand in his, comprehension dawning in his face. “You asked her to be your replacement?”

Juliet nodded up at him. “She has the sweetest little girl, Ezra,” she said sincerely. “But grown men pushed the child down on the boardwalk and no one said a word, and then when I heard that horrid woman she works for yelling at her in the kitchen…well, I just couldn’t leave them there!”

“I shouldn’t have wanted to either,” he assured her. “As I said, Miss Janey’s situation in Eagle Bend is a disgraceful one she and little Emmeline will be better out of. And she is a fine cook as well – not so talented as you, of course, but close enough that the inevitable comparisons should not be unkind.” He spotted something incongruously colorful atop the wagon seat and his mouth dropped open when he realized what it was. “You bought a painted parasol?”

His little fiancée drew herself up and frowned at him. “It’s a sunshade, and very useful,” she scolded. “Simply because something is pretty doesn’t mean it isn’t practical.”

To her surprise, Ezra shifted the packages he’d been holding to one arm and pulled her back close to him with a laugh. “Ah am well aware of that, darlin’,” he told her, leaning back in to steal another kiss. “Very aware indeed.”