Ezra Standish glanced up from the cards in his hand, his alert emerald gaze skimming over the Friday night crowd for any signs of trouble. Seeing none, he turned his attention back to the other men seated at his gaming table, but his thoughts lingered on the room.

The saloon was full, the patrons enjoying themselves but the southerner knew how easily a small disagreement could quickly escalate into a deadly encounter, be it over cards, a woman, a drink or a misspoken word.

Dealing the requested cards to each player, Ezra looked past the shoulder of the man across from him, eyeing the peacekeepers' usual table where Chris Larabee sat alone. While the blond man appeared relaxed and seemingly oblivious to those around him, Ezra knew the gunslinger was fully aware of everything happening in the large room.

The gambler was just as certain, Larabee's thought were on their absent compatriots.

JD, Buck and Josiah had ridden out the previous day for Bluffton. The town's sheriff had been wounded in an altercation with rustlers and at the judge's request, the three men would watch over the town while the sheriff recuperated.

While no one would dare voice it, they all knew Larabee could be a worse mother hen than Wilmington when it came down to worrying about the men he worked with. The man would not be happy until his friends were safely back home.

Seeing a familiar figure push open the batwings, Standish nodded a greeting to Vin as the sharpshooter entered and strolled across the room to join Larabee at the table. That left Nathan was on duty at the jail where Ezra would relieve him in three hours. Knowing the whereabouts of everyone, the gambler focused his attention back on the game.

*******

"Ol' Ez don't seem ta be havin' no trouble fillin' his pockets tanight." Tanner commented, taking a sip of his beer as he sank into the chair beside Chris.

"Nope. Know he enjoys the game more when the players are a challenge but makes winnin' a lot easier when they ain't any good at the game. At this rate he'll be buyin' himself that saloon in no time." Larabee agreed. "Would think he'd have enough hid away now for a down payment on the building and still be able ta stock it with the best liquor this side a the Mississippi."

"Said the same thing to 'im, not too long ago." Vin shrugged. "Said next time he wants to have enough money ta buy it outright, make any needed repairs and supply it too. Guess he don't wanna take a chance on havin' anybody take it away or owe nobody for nothin'."

Tanner wondered, wondering if the gambler actually had as much saved as everyone thought. The Texan hadn't failed to note that whenever the collection box was set out for any troubled Four Corners, it never failed to produce at least one twenty dollar bill or gold piece. He couldn't help but wonder if anyone else had come to the same conclusion.

They all knew only a few of the larger ranchers in the area had that kind of money and the only people in town was Banker McMurty who always made a great show of adding his usual measly two or three dollars and the self proclaimed cold hearted calculating con man who loudly proclaimed to any and all that listened how he studiously avoided any donation box like the Black Plague.

Joining Tanner on patrol one morning, Ezra had hinted at another plan he was putting into motion, seeking the tracker's opinion.

The Texan took a sip of his beer. "Told Ez, I got a little bit put aside iffen he decides he wants investors."

"What'd he say?" Chris was truly curious, not surprised the tracker would make such a self less offer. He knew it had less to do with the previous saloon purchasing fiasco when feeling betrayed by his 'so called' friends, it had taken months to tear down the bricks Ezra had added to the protective walls around his heart, than it did with Vin be willing to help someone he cared about.

The sharpshooter grinned. "Said he'd be right proud ta have any or all a us as partners."

"I'll be..." The gunslinger mused. "Got a little salted away my own self. Really wouldn't mind havin' Ezra as a business partner. Trust him with my money a helluva lot more than tht bastard banker McMurtry." Neither man had a doubt, the tenacious cardsharp would someday reach his goal of owning his own saloon. With the man's talent and his smooth tongue, it was sure to be a money making operation and therefore a good investment. Chris wouldn't be at all surprised if the con man didn't end up owning half the territory.

Larabee's hazel gaze traveled over the crowded saloon, momentarily making eye contact with the wily con man, who gave him a slight nod before turning back to his cards.

Chris brought his focus back to his companion. "Any trouble?" He questioned, certain the tracker had made a patrol of the town before joining him and just as certain Tanner would have immediately informed him of any irregularities.

"Nope. Perty quiet for a Friday, considerin' every cowhand in the territory is spendin' his pay." The sharpshooter shrugged. "Expectin' some?"

"I'm always expectin' something, Pard." Larabee admitted with a grin.

"Think maybe ol' Ez agrees with ya." Tanner sighed, as sobering Larabee's worried gaze returned to the southerner's gaming table. "He's got that same skittish look he gets when his ma's about to show up unannounced."

Larabee huffed out a breath as he nodded in agreement. "Was thinkin' the same damn thing."

As the batwings suddenly swung inward, both men automatically looked at the batwing doors, breathing a sigh of relief when it was Yosemite, rather than the stylish southern woman, who entered.

*******

Ezra dragged the pot from the middle of the table adding it to the pile in front of him. Unable to shake the feeling of impending trouble, his emerald gaze once again raked over the crowded saloon. Standish recognized most of the patrons and the few strangers didn't seem to be paying attention to anything other than their companions or their drinks. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Larabee and Tanner still sat at the peacekeeper's usual table, neither man saying anything, at least not verbally, the con man mentally corrected himself.

Deciding the feeling was nothing more than his vivid imagination, running away with him, Ezra shuffled the deck and dealt the cards, smiling at his fellow players, tossing his ante onto the table.

*******

Chris and Vin both straightened as Nathan pushed through the batwing doors. The healer's quick steps carrying him across the large room to halt by the gambler's table.

"May I be of assistance Mr. Jackson?" Without looking up, Ezra tossed another bill into the pot as the healer halted beside the table.

"Need ya ta relieve me Ezra." The dark man stated brusquely, prepared for an argument. He knew the southerner wasn't due on duty for almost two hours. "The Reese boy just come ridin' in. Says they found his daddy layin' in the field. Got kicked by the plow mule, and they think he might be hurt pretty bad."

"Then it would be wise if you left immediately Mr. Jackson. I'm sure the Reese family would appreciate your considerable skills as quickly as possible." The cards Ezra held followed the dollar and folding the bills in front of him, the cardsharp slipped the roll into his pocket pushing back from the table. "If you gentlemen will kindly excuse me, duty calls." He caught Molly's arm as she passed on the way to the bar. "Miss Molly would you be so kind as to purchase these gentlemen a libation and cash the rest of this in for me." He placed the pile of coins from his winnings on the tray she carried. With a tip of his hat, he left a stunned Nathan Jackson staring after him.

*******

Ezra paused to hang his hat on the hook beside the entrance as he closed the jail door. Settling behind the desk he returned to the game of solitaire he'd interrupted to make a late patrol of the now sleeping town.

The jail was unnaturally quiet. The cells were empty, devoid of any drunken cowboys who would normally be sleeping off a bender.

He never thought he'd associate the word boring with the job of peacekeeper but the dusty little town was becoming downright civilized.

Moving the red nine to the black ten, Ezra slipped the Colt from his holster and rose to his feet, at the sound of a soft footfall on the boardwalk. It was too early for Chris to relieve him, Vin had already stopped by the jail on his way to his wagon and he knew Nathan wouldn't be returning before morning. Unsure who approached, he believed in being cautious and pushed back from the desk wanting room to manuvear.

A light knock of warning proceeded the figure who pushed open the door.

The gambler felt the color drain from his face and he blinked several times certain it was a mere apparition standing before him. A figment of his fertile imagination.

"Well, damn...was told about it but had to see it with my own eyes to believe it." The figure grinned. "Ezra P. Standish workin' for the law."

"Billy Joe?" The name was a mere whisper when the con man finally found his voice.

"The one and only!"

Ezra pulled himself from his stunned stupor intending to shake the extended hand, surprised when the specter from his past pulled him into a hug, easily lifting him off his feet and enthusiastically pounding him on the back.

"Billy Joe?" The wily cardsharp sank back into his chair, his emerald gaze never leaving the walking, talking piece of his past as the man crossed to the stove in the corner and helped himself to a cup of coffee.

"That all ya can say?" The man chuckled sinking into the chair on the other side of the desk. "Ya look good kid....Damn good and a helluva lot better than the last time I seen ya."

Unable to wipe the smile from his face, still trying to convince himself he wasn't hallucinating, the gambler continued to study the man before him. He easily matched Josiah in size but the silver hair and deeply lined face belied the fact he was only ten years older than the con man.

Billy Joe Conners. The first person Ezra had ever trusted explicitly and before coming to Four Corners, the only person who had never abused that trust.

"I heard ya died in Elmira." He stated softly. The young gambler had spent two days blind drunk as a result of that news.

"Damn close." A grimace crossed Billy Joe's face as he took a sip of the strong brew. "Would have if they'd served this shit though."

"Vin likes his coffee strong." Ezra laughed, pulling a whiskey bottle from the desk drawer and topping off the cup. "This greatly improves its taste."

Sighing contentedly as the next sip went down much more smoothly, the big man leaned back in the chair propping his feet on the corner of the desk.

Ezra stared at him, quickly stifling the small frown before it could form as the troubled feeling that had plagued him all day grew stronger. "What are you doin' here Billy Joe?"

"Just passin' through." The man shrugged, a slow grin gracing his face. "Heard a kid I used ta know was in the area and figured I'd make sure life was treatin' him right."

Time passed all too quickly as the two friends caught up with each other's lives, neither really discussing anything substantial, Ezra easily falling into his habit of secrecy.

"Do you have a place to stay?" The gambler questioned when Billy Joe couldn't hide his yawn.

"Reckoned I'd just sack out in the livery hayloft...." The man grinned with a playful wink. "Less this here town's got a law against it."

"There's none that I'm aware of." Ezra smiled. "But you'll be much more comfortable in my room."

Billy shook his head. "Ain't necessary, Ezra. Loft'll be just fine."

"Yes it would but if I catch you there, I'll arrest ya for trespassin'." His emerald eyes twinkled as the gambler pushed to his feet.

*******

Escorting Billy Joe to his room above the saloon and telling him to make himself at home, Ezra crossed to the door. "I'll meet ya downstairs in the mornin'. Miss Inez serves a more than passable breakfast."

"I went back ya know..."

The quiet words caused Ezra to hesitate in the doorway of his room, looking back at the man who was stretched out on the featherbed.

The older man's voice was low as he admitted, "After Elmira...I went back...Wanted ta be sure ya'd made it."

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, the con man nodded. "Get some sleep."

*******

The tracker smiled to himself as he saw Ezra wasn't the only saloon resident who'd risen early. "Mornin' Inez."

"Good morning." The Spanish woman handed him a cup from the shelf without looking up from the food she was preparing. "Take the pot. If Senor Ezra's cup is not empty, his coffee no doubt will be cold."

Vin complied, snagging the pot from the back burner. Filling his cup, he slouched against the edge of the table, sipping at the hot brew. "How long's he been out there?"

"He was there when I came down." She shrugged. "Just sitting there...lost to the world." Worry filled her brown eyes when Inez finally met his gaze. "Something has greatly troubled him the past few days."

"I know. Even Chris noticed." The sharpshooter agreed, with a nod. "Trouble is...gettin' him ta talk about it. Ya can't shut the man up 'cept when he's got a problem of his own."

"He will talk to you Vin." Inez smiled, slapping at his hand as he reached for a slice of ham.

"What makes ya think so?"

The barmaid stared at him a moment in exasperation before a smile of comprehension touched her lips. "You do not know? Ezra trusts you above all others with his secrets. It means alot to him that you do not judge him and have never betrayed him."

Tanner couldn't prevent his own smile of pride, brought about by the thought that Ezra who rarely trusted anyone at all, for any reason, trusted him uncondtionally.

"Got any ideas on how I get him ta talk about it?" He questioned quietly, unsure how to get the gambler to open up to him.

"Just ask him." She added flour to the biscuit dough she was kneading. "If that does not work...do what he would do himself. Trick him."

*******

Ezra glanced up, a dimpled smile lighting up his face, as Vin leaned across the table and filled his half empty coffee mug.

"Good mornin' Mr. Tanner. Thank you. Glorious day isn't it?"

"Sure is." The sharpshooter slipped into the chair beside the gambler. "So how come yer up ta see it. Didn't Chris relieve ya like he was 'sposed ta?"

"Of course. Mr. Larabee's timing is almost as impeccable as your own." Ezra lit a cheroot tilted his chair back and blew the smoke toward the ceiling.

Vin waited patiently, sipping at his own coffee. In the time they'd worked together, he had studied the con man, learning his habits, looking for the gambler's tells he could use to his benefit in befriending the southerner. While he still hadn't discovered the tells that would let him beat Ezra in poker he did know there was only two times the cardsharp smoked. One being the rare occurrence when he and Larabee were relaxing together and the other was when he needed time to phrase what was on his mind.

"Were you in the war Mr. Tanner?" The gambler questioned, out of the blue continuing before a somewhat startled Vin could answer. "Like many foolish young men I joined the Army of the Rebellion thinking it was going to be a grand high adventure. Rest assured, I didn't join with the mistaken belief I was helping the south preserve slavery. Having seen the institution first hand, I knew it was an abomination and I truly believe it would have ceased to be feasible in a few short years. Nonetheless, I joined the fighting." He paused, sending a perfectly formed smoke ring floating toward the ceiling, before he softly admitted. "I was a stupid kid, totally unprepared for the atrocities I witnessed."

'We all were.' Tanner thought but said nothing and Ezra was once more staring into his coffee cup.

The southerner sighed and continued quietly. "I was luckier than most...My commanding officer was..." He hesitated again, "He was in many ways, like Mr. Larabee....He truly cared about the men under his command and he believed in what he was fighting for. Billy Joe watched over me...He became my lifeline...my...sanity...And he saved my life more than once."

"Sure glad he did." The sharpshooter interjected softly.

Standish stared at the glowing tip of the cheroot. "We were out on patrol when we ran into a platoon on their way to meet up with Sherman. We were highly out numbered and badly outgunned. Many of our troop were killed outright in the first few volleys and I myself was wounded twice. Captain Conners...Billy Joe... led them away from our main contingency but he knew I wouldn't survive without help. He managed to get me to a small farm house. He left me with the old couple who lived there and gave 'em every dime he had to take care of me. When I recovered and returned I discovered that those of my unit who had survived had been captured and taken to Elmira. I assume you are aware of that institution..."

Tanner nodded silently. Nearly every confederate solidier alive had heard of the prisoner of war camp, the Union's version of Andersonville and how the vast majority of soldiers who passed through its gates never exited them alive. While the country had been appalled by the conditions of the Georgia prison camp, few comments had been made about the dismal and appalling conditions the southern prisoners had been subjected to. Winning the war meant no one was likely to find fault with what was done for the Union Cause. The victors are never charged with war crimes.

"Sounds like a damn good friend." Vin stated after several minutes of silence. A fleeting thought raced through his mind. Was this what had been bothering Ezra? Memories of the war? He was about to ask that very question of his friend when he saw the con man's gaze shite and following the gambler's emerald focus, he looked to the landing as a silver haired stranger started down the stairs.

The man approached the table.

"Bed's right comfortable Ezra." Clapping the smaller man in the shoulder, the man eased himself into the empty chair on the other side of the con man.

"Vin, I'd like ya to meet Captain Billy Joe Conners." Always cautious, aware of the bounty on the sharpshooter's head, Ezra never used the tracker's last name when introducing him to strangers.

"Just Billy Joe. Stopped bein' Captain the day Lee surrendered." He shook Vin's hand vigourously. "Glad ta meet ya."

"I'll get ya a cup and tell Inez she's got another customer for breakfast." Pushing to his feet and crossing the room, Tanner paused in the doorway, glancing back at the two old friends. He chewed at his bottom lip as an all too well known feeling of impending trouble washed over him.

*******

Slouched against the porch post in front of the jail, Vin's azure gaze continuously strayed to where Ezra and Billy Joe sat in front of the saloon. They were talking and every on often their laughter drifted to him on the late morning breeze. Over breakfast, he'd listened as Billy Joe remininsced over his and Ezra's battle tales. Vin could still hear the man's words ringing in his ears.

"Damn boy! Ya shoulda seen this young fool! We's on patrol and come across the ragtag remains of a regiment...couldn't have been more than five or six of 'em but they was holed up in this old shack on a burned out farm and had us pinned down good with a gatling gun. We couldn't move a whisker without drawin' fire..." Billy Joe shook his head in amazement at the memory. "Next thing I know young Ez here has grabbed a bottle a whiskey from the corpman and stuffed a rag in the top a the bottle. Afore any a us realizes what he's up to, he's running across open territory right straight at that damn gun. All we could do was lay cover fire. I swear my heart stopped when he belly flopped about ten feet from that shack. Thought sure they'd filled him full of holes. All of sudden he rears back and lets that bottle fly right through the window where that gun was. That rag was on fire and that shack went up like dry kindlin' . Them blue coats come tumblin' outta there, like performers in a travelin' show only too happy ta surrender. Shoulda seen it."

"Seen our own version of it." The tracker grinned, arching his eyebrows at the gambler who momentarily averted his eyes.

"Ya wanna talk about it?" Larabee broke in on his thoughts as he studied his best friend over the rim of his cup.

Tanner shrugged, wondering if he should give voice to his fearful thoughts.

When the sharpshooter didn't answer, Larabee tried a different tactic. "Run inta trouble on patrol?" He knew the tracker would have immediately told him if that were the case.

"Nope." Tanner shook his head, still watching the two southerners.

"Conners seems like a nice enough fella." The dark clad gunslinger admitted, following Tanner's gaze as the sharpshooter watched the two men cross toward the livery.

"Yep."

"But ya don't like him." It was a statement, not a question.

"Don't know 'im." Tanner sighed, not wanting to remember the troubling breakfast conversation, he'd been privy to between Conners and Standish.

"Ya remember Thomas Hayworth Ezra?...Seems his family did okay. Made themselves some money blockade runnin'. He's opened him a fancy hotel in San Francisco. He's lookin' to go into the saloon business and wants some partners. Course, the first person I thought of was you." Billy Joe turned to Vin. "Boy was constantly talkin' 'bout how he was gonna own the fanciest saloon in the country someday."

His face, expressionless Vin nodded, as his heart suddenly plunged to his feet with the realization this man was offering Ezra his long held dream.

"Thomas said he'd be proud iffen ya decided to partner up with us. Said he won't have time to actually handle any of the business end and me, hell, I don't know shit about runnin' a saloon so we'd just put up most a the money and you could have free rein runnin' the business end. Equal owners. Share and share alike."

Fearing the gambler's answer, stating he needed to get out on patrol, Vin had left the old friends. Even as he rode patrol, the ex-bounty hunter had the heart wrenching fear he would return to an announcement the con man would soon be leaving for San Francisco.

Tanner sighed, wondering if he should tell the gunslinger, then with another sigh, admitted. "Think ol' Ez might be....weighin' his options...I's just wonderin' if we measure up."

Larabee's lit match paused before reaching the end of his cheroot. "Options? He thinkin' about movin' on?"

"Don't know." Vin shrugged again. "Just a feelin'."

"Damn! Thought he was finally settlin' in." Larabee shook out the match and striking another lit the thin cigar. "Thought he'd finally accepted us."

"He has." Vin looked toward the livery giving a slight nod and a small smile to the gambler as Ezra with a tip of his hat headed out on afternoon patrol. "Just don't know if havin' everything ya ever wanted is a temptation any a us could resist

*******

Ezra let Chaucer set his own pace. Knowing the faithful steed would alert him to any danger, the con man let his thoughts go back to the morning conversation between he and his former captain.

Like far too many others, Billy Joe had returned home after the war ended only to discover the home his family had occupied for generations no longer existed. The house and outbuildings had been destroyed and the land burned. Anything of value had been stolen, traded or sold off for survival provisions before his father had finally succumbed to the fever and a broken heart at seeing everything lost.

Although Billy Joe had hidden it well, Ezra had heard the hint of bitterness in his old friend's voice as he told Ezra and Vin, that even if the land hadn't already been lost to carpetbaggers, he hadn't the money to rebuild. With nothing and no place to go, the soldier had stayed with friends until he'd regained his health and then worked a variety of jobs on his journey west.

"Ya remember Thomas Hayworth...Seems his family did okay. Made themselves some money blockade runnin'. He's opened him a fancy hotel in San Francisco. He's lookin' for partners for a saloon. Course, the first person I thought of was you." Billy Joe turned to Vin explaining. "Boy was constantly talkin' 'bout how he was gonna own the fanciest saloon in the country someday."

The gambler was troubled by a flash of...was it fear...he thought he saw in the sharpshooter's azure eyes.

"Thomas said he'd be proud iffen ya decided to partner up with us. Said he won't have time to actually handle any of the business end and me, hell, I don't know shit about runnin' a saloon so we'd put up most a the money and you could have free rein runnin' the business end. Equal owners. Share and share alike."

"Well kid, what'd ya think?" Billy Joe pressed as Tanner exited the bar for his patrol. "Ya interested in joinin' up with us?"

"I...I..." Ezra flustered not know what to say.

Billy Joe pushed to his feet. "Look, ya give it some serious thought and let me know. I ain't headin' out till tomorra."

"Tomorrow?" Ezra's heart dropped. Less than twenty four hours to make a decision which would alter his entire life....

"Sooner I get there the sooner the cash starts flowin'." Billy Joe slapped Ezra's shoulder. "Better get a couple hours sleep kid before yer afternoon patrol. We can talk later."

Ezra had laid in his large feather bed and stared at the ceiling, his mind in a whirl. When he had finally managed to doze off, his dreams had been filled with chandeliers, a highly polished bar, patrons crowded around various gaming tables and the private gambling rooms full of wealthy customers. A saloon even his mother would admire and envy.

San Fransisco! A city of adventure, culture, wealth and opportunity. A wide variety of people from all over the world who made San Francisco their home, gave the city a diverse mixture of tastes, interests and activities.

'Yes he could definitely enjoy himself living in that grand city.'

Yet even as he reveled in the life he knew he had always wanted, something tugged at him, holding him back.... Something in the shadowy corners of his dreams stopped him from taking that step...kept him from saying yes to Billy Joe.

A mental picture of Tanner, slouched against the porch post, his lopsided grin and the small nod of his head, saying without words for Ezra to watch his back and they'd see him upon his return home, flashed through his mind. And reality sank in. That was what was tugging at him, holding him back....

'Home.'

Four Corners, Vin Tanner, the other men he worked with, the dusty buildings, the townspeople..... Somehow they had all twined their way around his heart and although Ezra had never thought of anywhere as home...this place--this dusty uncultured back water little no place had become just that. And it had happened so gradually he hadn't even realized it....or maybe he just hadn't wanted to admit it...until now.

San Fransisco meant leaving Four Corners.

"Think like a business man Standish!" The gambler chastised himself aloud. "You're not some hick kid about to leave the farm for the first time. Look at the situation from every angle and weigh the pros and cons and make a logical decision. Forget that you owe Billy Joe. Forget that he saved your life. Think about the financial gain." Yet even as he tried to do just that, one factor he hadn't counted on presented itself.... he truly loved where he was and what he was doing.....

*******

The three men glanced up from their drinks as the gambler pushed through the batwing doors, brushing trail dust from the sleeves of his jacket.

"Any trouble?" Chris asked as the gambler approached their table.

"None whatsoever, Mr. Larabee." Ezra turned to the healer of their group sitting at the table as well. "I trust Mr. Reese is in satisfactory condition."

"Busted some ribs and gotta good size goose egg on his head but he'll be alright." Nathan nodded.

"Good to hear. If you gentleman will excuse me, I'll freshen up and join you momentarily." With a two fingered salute, the con man bound up the stairs, two at a time, his feet barely touching the steps.

"Looks like ol' Ez mighta done made up his mind." Tanner commented, lowering his beer mug, his worried gaze still on the landing as Standish disappeared from sight.

"'Bout what?" Nathan questioned.

"Old friend of Ezra's is openin' a saloon in Frisco." Larabee explained. "Offered him a partnership."

"Damn!" Nathan was honestly surprised by the sadness which flooded through him at the very thought of the gambler's departure. The two men rarely saw eye to eye about anything but the healer had come to think of the gambler as part of his family. "We always knew it was just a matter of time afore he moved on ta greener pastures." He mutter more to himself than his companions.

"Need some air." His muscles tightening in anger at the healer's seemingly callous attitude, Tanner pushed to his feet and hurried through the doors, Ezra had entered only moments earlier.

His fingers clenching into fists, slowly unclenching and clenching again, Vin leaned against the porch post taking several deep breaths in a vain attempt to wash away the overwhelming grief.

Damnit! The ex-bounty hunter had only stopped in Four Corners only long enough to earn money for supplies but had found a home and a family. Brothers that fought with each other and for each. A family that laughed together, cared for each other and accepted each other. The very thought of losing any member of that family was enough to tear a hole in his heart as surely as any bullet.

'Ya can't force 'im ta stay.' His inner voice chided. 'And no matter how selfish everyone thinks he is, Ez would never ask ya ta wait till later if all of a sudden ya had the chance to clear yer name. Tht saloon's his dream, just like a clear name is yourn."

Each of the seven men had their own dream but somehow Vin had always managed to convince himself except for his own they could all fulfill those dreams right here in Four Corners...and they could all remain together. He realized now how furtile that thought had been.

He wasn't a naive kid. Life was constantly changing but he had hoped....

*******

Ezra was seated with Chris and Nathan when Vin returned to the table.

"I miss somethin'?" He questioned as the three men shared a chuckle.

"I was simply speculating on how long after Mr Wilmington's arrival it took the good citizens of Bluffton to lock away their women." The gambler filled a shot glass, pushing it toward the tracker before raising his own glass. "To our resident womanizer. May his animal magnatism keep him warm during the long nights in Bluffton."

The three men listened to the gambler's animated chatter with bated breath, waiting in dread for the proclamation of his iminent departure.

Tanner tensed as Conners pushed through the door, quickly glancing around the room before making his way toward their table.

He paused by Ezra, laying his hand on the man's shoulder. "Hey, kid! See ya got back no worse for wear."

"Billy Joe," The gambler tossed back his drink and rose to his feet. "You've met Misters Tanner and Larabee and this esteemed gentleman is Mr. Nathan Jackson, one of the peacekeepers and a our resident healer."

The minute flash of disdain in the older man's eyes disappeared as quickly as it appeared, hidden behind his smile but Ezra didn't fail to notice he didn't offer his hand in greeting.

"How ya doin'?" Conners half mumbled, not even looking at Nathan as he spoke.

"If you gentlemen will excuse us, it looks to be a long and profitable night and as such I will need substance to fortify myself." Not wanting to take a chance Conners would further offend Nathan, Ezra planned a hasty exit.

Chuckling at the Billy Joe's confusion, Chris translated. "He means he's gonna grab him some dinner cause he plans on spendin' the night at the poker table emptyin' the pockets of the local ranch hands."

"Damn boy! Why didn't ya just say ya wanted ta get somethin' ta eat?"

"He did." Tanner grumbled unable to keep the animosity out of his voice, drawing a surprised glance from the gambler.

"At least the rich folks in Frisco'll understand them fancy words of yourn." Billy Joe's words carried across the room as the two men headed toward the restaurant.

*******

As the waitress brought their meals, Conners broached the subject as Ezra had hoped to avoid for a few more moments.

"So kid, ya been thinkin' 'bout how ya wanna set up that fancy saloon?" Billy Joe questioned, cutting into his thick steak.

Standish slowly lowered his coffee cup. "That thought has taken up permanent residency in the back of my mind."

"Well, at least ya won't have people shootin' at ya and..." Connors spoke around his mouthful of steak, "better still ya won't have ta put up with the likes a that damn darkie."

Ezra kept his smile in place politely thanking the waitress as she refilled their coffee cups, questioning if they needed anything else before moving away. He toyed with his fork, speaking quietly. "I've given it a great deal of consideration, Billy Joe, and while I wish you and Thomas the best of luck I must decline your tempting offer."

The older man leaned back in his seat, his surprise evident as he studied the con man. He'd been certain Ezra would accept the offer and would be willing do whatever was necessary to get what he truly wanted.

Conners knew of Ezra's upbringing and was well aware he had been raised in the art of the con. As often happened under the extraordinary circumstances brought on by intense shared life and death incidents as happen in war, the two men had quickly become exceedingly close in the time they'd served together. They had shared much in those months and Conners knew Ezra's mother had nurtured and enhanced the boy's many talents. He also knew the oft times ruthless woman had taught her son to take the necessary steps to achieve his goal...no matter the cost to anyone else.

Billy Joe had counted on that knowledge, had believed he knew Ezra Standish as well as anyone alive. He knew, given the boy's nature there had to be something...

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Ya can tell me. Whatcha really got goin' on here kid?"

Ezra looked up from his plate, his expression puzzled. "Excuse me?"

"Hells bells kid, I ain't stupid." Giving the gambler a sly grin and a wink Billy Joe returned his attention to the food. "Don't forget who yer talkin' to. I know you Ezra. Ya can tell me. Why ya really playin' at bein' a lawman? What's in it for you?" He held up a hand stopping the con man from saying anything. "Let me guess. Ya use them late night patrols ta help yerself ta the tills? Got ya a good little business on the side, huh? Don't reckon the folks'd say anythin' what with you bein' the law."

"Believe me if that were the case Mr. Larabee, Sheriff Dunne and...several others," he couldn't bring himself to name his other four friends, "would have plenty to say. I simply hired on here to secure myself a pardon from Judge Travis." A wry smile crossed Ezra's lips. "I have often asked myself why I continued to remain after receiving said pardon."

"And I'd like ta hear the answer ta that one my own self." The older man muttered wondering if maybe he didn't know Ezra Standish as well as he thought he did.

Choosing to ignore the question in the man's tone, Standish turned his attention to the meal in front of him. Even if he wanted to, how could he begin to explain something he wasn't prepared to admit even to himself. The pardon was the reason why he'd agreed at first, but now...it was something more...people, places, feelings,...thing he had sat down and truly analyzed beyond the simple fact of knowing those things had taken up a place in his heart...and he was the richer for it.

"Well, it must be a helluva con ya got runnin' ta pass up an offer a easy money ta keep it goin." Conners decided to play on the insecurities he knew plagued the younger man. "Hope the payoff's worth it kid. I mean listenin' ta some a the town folks this afternoon, I get the feelin' ya ain't exactly welcome in this here town."

Ezra's appetite fled at his old friend's assumption. Of course what other conclusion would the man reach. Four Corners and six men had brought a great deal of change to the cardsharp's life. Changes Conners, a virtual stranger to him now, would know nothing about. He still saw Ezra as he had been when they first met. Cocky, greedy and only looking at the profits to be made from each situation.

While Billy Joe finished his dinner with gusto, the con man spent the rest of the meal pushing the food around on his plate, not really tasting the few bites of steak and potatoes he managed to swallow.

*******

Sitting in front of the saloon, his chair balanced on its back legs, the cards rifling through his nimble fingers as he automatically, shuffled and reshuffled the deck, Ezra stared down the dirt street.

Earlier that morning, Ezra had watched Billy Joe ride out of town as the sun was peeking over the mountains, the lone rider in the empty street that was now full of saddle horses and riders, carriages and wagons passing on their way to the church where with Josiah out of town, Mr. Wilkerson would lead the service. The children called out a hello to the gambler, the adults either giving a nod in his direction or completely ignoring him but the only thing Standish seemed to hear was Conner's parting words.

'See ya soon kid.' Was it his imagination or had it really sounded like a promise.

Did Conners really expect him to change his mind? As the older man had made his arguments over dinner, his former captain hadn't seem to realize the con man had already given his decision a great deal of thought. There was nothing he could say that Ezra hadn't already considered, and hadn't already argued from every conceivable angle.

Continuing to weigh his final decision, Standish had found himself too distracted to even concentrate on his poker playing and had surprised everyone by retiring to his room while the saloon was still crowded with patrons.

Mulling over the options available to him, the gambler had spent the rest of the night on the rooftop, staring at the twinkling stars and once again examining his current circumstances.

Unfailingly honest with himself, Ezra had never been one to second guess himself and had never been one to look back. Knowing it was too late to change the outcomes, he tried not to dwell on the difficult choices he'd made in his life. He scrutinized every situation, chose the best scenerio for a equitable solution and put a plan into action. Following that simple rule had always served him well.

Until that day, when without taking the time to think, he'd turned and ridden back to the Seminole Village. Something hitherto unknown to him had called him back to the six men he had joined company with. Without weighing the odds, or thinking of the monetary consequences, he had reined Chaucer about and ridden to aid six men he barely know. Yet those actions and that fateful day had set into motion major changes in his life and in himself. Changes he couldn't explain and, in truth, didn't want to examine too closely.

Weariness settled over him like a thick blanket. Slipping the deck into his pocket Ezra rose and giving a way to the children in a passing wagon, slowly made his way to his room.

No, Billy Joe was wrong. He wouldn't be changing his mind.

*******

"Ya can stop worrying about it." Larabee sighed, stopping to light a cheroot as he and Tanner exited the restaraunt, the sharpshooter's gaze automatically settling on the gambler seated in front of the saloon.

Tanner had made a quick patrol, a mile radius around the town before joining Chris for breakfast.

He nodded towards the lone figure. "Shoulda invited him ta join us."

"Reckon he woulda, if he was hungry." The shootist pointed out.

"Not without an invite." Vin shook his head as Ezra stood and stretched waving at some children who called his name, before entering the saloon. "Ain't proper manners."

The morning meal had passed in silence, both men knowing from experience the importance of eating when the opportunity arose.

"What'd ya mean I can stop worryin'?" Vin stopped, turning to stare at his companion as the gunslinger's comment finally penetrated the thick wall of fear at losing one of his family, which seemed to have engulfed the tracker since Billy Joe's arrival.

"Ezra turned him down." Larabee grinned. "At least I'm assumin' so, since Conners rode out at daybreak...alone."

The tracker felt as if the building sized boulder he had been carrying the last few days had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Damn Pard, ya couldn't a told me that earlier so I coulda enjoyed my breakfast?" Tanner couldn't wipe the lopsided smile from his face, his blue eyes twinkling with the undeniable delight the older man's words had evoked.

*******

Enjoying the shade of the secluded wooded area, Ezra recorked the canteen he had just filled with cold water. Whistling a light tune under his breath, he moved to sit on a small boulder, using his handkerchief to wipe the inside of his hat as Chaucer drank his fill from the small stream.

He sighed and leaned back. It was too damn hot to rush his patrol. As far as he was concerned, any fool up to no good deserved to expire from a heat stroke.

A genuine smile touched his lips as his thoughts went back to the previous evening.

The gambler had slept the day away, rising as the sun was balanced on the horizon to discover the other peacekeepers seated at their usual table, patiently waiting for him to join them before Inez served the dinner she'd prepared. Afterwards they had enjoyed several hands of poker before one by one they surrendered their seats to other players.

While none of the three questioned his reason, even Larabee and Nathan seemed genuinely pleased he hadn't accompanied Billy Joe on his westward journey.

His smile faded. Maybe he just wanted to believe they were happy about his decision to stay in Four Corners. It really didn't matter because for the moment he was happy with his decision and that after all was what mattered.

Ezra adjusted his hat, letting his eyes skim the woods for any sign of movement as Chaucer nickered.

"Nice and peaceful here ain't it kid?"

The gambler's hand paused in its downward motion towards the gun on his hip as Conners urged his horse into the tiny clearing.

"Billy Joe?" The hair on the back of Ezra's neck stood on end and the sick feeling of trouble that had dissipated with his old friend's departure again settled itself more firmly in the pit of Standish's stomach once more. In a day and a half, he had figured the former soldier would have been miles from the dusty little town.

"Thought I could count on ya kid." There was a hint of disapproval in the older man's voice.

"Ya know I'd do anything I can ta help you." Ezra assured him, his mouth dry as trepidation washed over him. All of the doubts and questions which had plagued him when considering Conner's offer came to the fore. "Believe me when I say I was honored by your generous offer and maybe at a different time I wouldn't hesitate to accept but...there are things here that I simply can't ignore.

There was a sadness in Conner's tone as he shook his head. Dismounting, he crossed to sit beside the younger man. "Ya've changed Ezra." It sounded more like an accusation than a statement of fact.

Ezra shrugged slightly. "Change is a part a life Billy Joe. As you so recently pointed out, I'm a con man and, as such, being able to change personas is an intricate part of my livelihood."

The other man shook his head, his expression one of contemplation. "More than that...Reckon it's them new friends...Figured ya'd do whatever it took ta get that saloon a yourn. Surprised me when ya turned me down but what really surprised me was when it hit me ya really wasn't runnin' no con....Admit it...Ya like bein' a part a them lawmen."

Ezra carefully contemplated his answer and responded slowly. "There are times when they can be quite amusing...And life has certainly been interesting since they rode into that dust bowl of a town."

"Well, they sure as hell ruined a perfect plan." Billy Joe sighed as he pushed away from the boulder to stand. "Course, as ya know I always have a backup."

Standish straightened as well, tired of the man's subterfuge. "What do you want Billy Joe?"

"I wanted you on my side but since I don't reckon that's gonna happen I'll settle for ya gettin' me the money that's stashed away in the bank." Conners grinned, ignoring the expression of shock Ezra was unable to suppress.

"I'm no thief!"

"Tell that ta that young lieutenant who was standin' guard on the train that time..." He almost leered. "Maybe I should go back and ask yer new friends if they know 'bout that little escapade. Might not be so happy to have ya in their midst iffen they knew what ya'd done." He taunted.

Ezra stiffened full of self righteous indignation. "That was different! We were under orders! That train was carryin' a Union payroll and the money went ta help the south. I'm no thief!" The con man reiterated.

"Fat lotta good it did the southern army huh." Conners sneered. "We still lost everything! The war...our land...our homes..." He shook himself as if throwing off a burdensome cloak. "Hell, I don't reckon ya'll have any more trouble openin' that fancy bank safe than ya did that one on the train. Ya shouldn't have any problem what with the rest a Larabee's men outta town and ya doin' the late night rounds all by yer lonesome."

Ezra stared at his old friend as if he had lost his mind. "And just what makes you think I'd agree to anything so ludicrous?" He blurted out.

"Guess I could say, you'll do it cause ya owe me. Ya do ya know? Might not a spent the rest a the war in that hell hole of a prison iffen I'd left ya where ya fell that day...Or just kept ridin' till ya bled ta death." The truth of his words were clearly reflected in the emerald eyes. He'd struck a cord and watched the con man's inner struggle with a sense of satisfaction. To his surprise, he saw indignation replace the guilt.

"Is this how ya planned on acquiring the money to buy your partnership in the saloon?"

Conners ignored the question. "Oh don't worry, kid, I don't expect ya ta do it for nothing...Everybody deserves something for their trouble..."

Standish stared at him in total disbelief. "Ya can't pay me enough...I don't need...or want your money." The gambler gave a snort of contempt. He wasn't about to risk everything…friends, home, Nica…for the few tainted dollars, Conners might consider his due.

The ex-soldier's eyes glittered brightly. "I didn't figure ta pay ya…Figured we'd make us a swap."

Puzzled, the cardsharp couldn't help but wonder what this man thought he could possibly trade that was worth Ezra risking everything he'd worked so hard to gain since accepting Judge Travis' offer?

The big man gave a sharp whistle and Ezra's heart leapt into his throat as two men stepped from the deep shadows of the woods holding a lead rope. He jerked on the end of the thick hemp, tightening the noose which encircled Vin Tanner's slim throat forcing the sharpshooter step further into the clearing to keep from strangling.

*******

"You bastard!" The gun was in Ezra's hand, the barrel inches from Conners' face before any of the men saw the con man move. "Let him go." The brittle tone matched the icy glitter in the emerald eyes.

"I don't think so." Conners grinned, giving a slight nod toward the men on the other side of the clearing.

His gun still trained on his old friend, Ezra took a step to the side so that he could keep everyone in sight. One of the men had the barrel of his own weapon pressed to Vin's temple, the hammer thumbed back.

Fighting his intense anger, Standish struggled to keep his expression as blank as Tanner's while he assessed the situation.

Hoping to avoid the worst heat of the day, Ezra had left on his own patrol before the ex-bounty hunter had returned from his. It hadn't surprised the gambler when he hadn't met the sharpshooter on his way back to town. Being cautious, not wanting to establish a regular routine, the peacekeepers, especially Vin, never rode the same path while on patrol.

The one thing, Standish was certain of, these men usually used this clearing as a watering stop for the horses, especially on these hot days.

Damnit! If he had just waited...If he hadn't been thinking about his own comfort...If he hadn't been basking in his own, if somewhat misplaced, happiness...he would have known Vin was in trouble.

Trouble indeed. His green eyed gaze jumped to the tracker. The blood and bruises marking Tanner's handsome face were clear evidence he hadn't been taken without a fight, but glancing at the other two men, he was pleased to see Vin had gotten in a few good shots of his own.

His hands bound behind his back, the rough hemp rope snugged tightly around his throat, Vin's calm gaze briefly met Ezra's, his blue eyes shining with confidence in the gambler even as the Texan swayed slightly with the effort it cost him to stay on his feet.

"Let him go." The con man repeated. "Don't make me do something, you'll regret."

"Ya really think I give a shit if ya kill me?..." Billy Joe chuckled. "Just realize one thing. If ya pull that trigger yer friend there is just as dead as me." He reached up and pushed the barrel of Ezra's gun to the side before moving back to the boulder. "Don't worry, they got orders not to shoot ya unless it's in self defense...even if ya do kill me and as ya might remember my men are very loyal...Now killin' yer friend's a different matter all tagether." Taking a seat, he folded his arms across his chest smugly staring up at the con man. "Now, do ya wanna barter or do I just have the boys there throw Tanner's dead body over the back a his horse and settle for collectin' that five hundred dollar bounty on his head?"

*******

Standish stared at the cards in his hand, not really seeing the two pair. This wasn't the game he needed to win. This was merely for show. A sorry attempt on his part to make everything appear normal until everything was normal again.

Ezra's heart skipped a beat as he suddenly realized nothing would ever be normal again. At least never for him.

He knew he would do what it took to win this game Billy Joe had forced him into. He would do whatever was necessary to return Vin to his home and his new family but for Ezra, winning meant losing the things which had come to mean the most to him.

He was certain once he set the game in motion he would never be able to return to Four Corners. He would never again be able to share a laugh over a casual drink with the men he'd come to care about, never be able to see the fruition of their dreams. He'd never see Josiah's church finished, never see JD become a Texas Ranger, never see Nathan become a doctor, Buck marry the perfect woman, Chris exact his revenge for the murders of his family and he'd never see Tanner clear his name.

Winning this game meant, changing his name, his very persona and spending the rest of his life as a wanted man, constantly on the move, constantly looking over his shoulder. It would be that or spending several years locked away in a prison cell. Either way he would no longer have a life he could call his own.

It didn't really matter to him. Winning this game of Conner's meant Vin Tanner would live and that was the only thing, Ezra considered important.

Over dinner and their usual evening walk, the gambler had considered asking Nica to meet him somewhere. Any place away from this town he'd come to think of as home but had just as quickly discarded the idea. He had no right to ask her to give up her future for him. He would be destroying his own life but he couldn't ask the young woman to do the same.

Ezra's movements were automatic as he raked in the pot and redealt, his mind replaying the scene with Billy Joe.

Standish had kept his weapon trained on the two men holding Vin captive, prepared to kill either of them at the slightest indication they would cause the ex-bounty hunter further harm.

"Really sorry it had ta come ta this kid." Conners drawled. "I honestly thought you'd take me up on that offer for the saloon. Figured ya'd jump through hoops for a once in a lifetime chance like that." He eyed the younger man as he scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Had ta rethink things when ya turned me down." The man grinned nodding toward Tanner. "Had ta offer ya somethin' ya cared about more than havin' that saloon a yourn. Had ta make the prize worth the consequences."

"And whatever gave you the impression that Mr. Tanner would be that... prize?" Ezra sneered. "You really think I'd be willing to risk my life for him."

"Don't try ta bluff me kid. Let me remind ya that everything I do is thought out completely." Billy Joe commented with a sigh. "Somethin', I might add, you can take credit for...Yer the one that told me ta be patient and look at everything from every angle in order ta figure the best way a gettin' whatcha want."

Ezra flipped a hand toward the bound tracker "And this is the logical conclusion you reached?" The con man forced a chuckle, continuing his desperate ploy. "I obviously didn't teach you very well."

Billy Joe leaned back on the rock, his eyes narrowing. "Had me a few choices...That fancy newspaper woman or her kid, the little darkie girl that thinks ya walk on water, or that pretty little thing ya been takin' ta dinner lately."

Ezra felt as if the blood had ceased to flow through his veins

Everything began to fall into place as Conners talked. Billy Joe seeking him out on the late shift at the jail. The older man knowing the others were out of town. Had known to find him at this clearing yet Ezra was sure he hadn't been followed. And it explained the uneasy feeling the con man hadn't been able to shake that trouble was on the horizon, that he was being watched.

"I really don't cotton ta the thought a hurtin' a kid or a woman...even if it is just some pickaninny or injun squaw. Coulda took Larabee or that healer...Reckon ya'd do 'bout anything ta help either one a them but..." Conners glanced at Tanner. "Him,...he's special to ya." He gave a nonchalant shrug. "And iffen I'm wrong then me and the boys still got us five hunnerd dollars without doin' a thing."

Sensing Ezra's acceptance of defeat, Billy Joe smiled. "Now, ya bring me the contents a the bank safe tonight and ya got my word ya can take yer friend and ride away."

When the gambler didn't move, his old friend gave him a soft shove toward Chaucer.

Biting his lip to keep from doing the man bodily harm, Ezra hesitated. "I apologize for the injuries caused by my...so called...old friend and shall emancipate your freedom as quickly as possible Mr. Tanner." With a brief glance at the tracker, one full of regret and shame, Ezra dropped the weapon in his holster and mounted Chaucer.

"Ezra." Billy Joe called as the gambler reined the horse in the direction of Four Corners. "Gotta a man in town who'll be watchin' ya. Gave ya my word Tanner'll go free when ya hand over the money but ya go ta anybody for help and he's as good as dead."

Ezra reined the gelding close to Conners, so close the man had to back up several steps to avoid being trampled. "Now let me give you my word..." Ezra's tone was as bitter cold as his glare, "Anything happens to him,...another bruise,...a skinned knee...a bee sting...an upset stomach...anything at all, and I swear to you, there's no place on this earth you'll be able hide. I will find you and I will kill you myself."

Lifting rein, he spun Chaucer and rode out of the clearing.

Upon his return to town, needing to avoid Larabee and the prying eyes of Conners' spy, after a brief stop at the newspaper office, Ezra had spent the remainder of the afternoon in his room.

As if conjured up by the con man's very thoughts Larabee strode through the saloon's batwing doors, Nathan at his side. The shootist's hazel eyed gaze quickly scanned the occupants of the large room before he headed in the direction of the gaming table.

"Ya seen Vin around?"

"Was that question directed at me Mr. Larabee or anyone in general?" Ezra asked, tossing a coin into the small pot on the table. Standish's own emerald gaze slowly skimmed over the saloon, wondering which of the patrons was working with Billy Joe. "It would appear Mr. Tanner isn't in attendance this evening."

"If he was I wouldn't be askin' if ya'd seen him." The shootist growled.

"I apologize, sir. However, I was unaware we were now on a schedule to baby-sit our resident sharpshooter."

Nathan grabbed the gunslinger before Larabee could drive his fist into the gambler's jaw. "He ain't worth it Chris. Ya know he don't give a damn about nothin' but money."

The con man ignored the hurtful comment. "Mr. Larabee if it were possible for me to tell you that I saw Mr. Tanner while on my patrol, I would happily do just that...Unfortunately, at this moment, I'm unable to do so." Ezra saw the flicker of uncertainty in the hazel eyes and hoped the gunfighter would, as always, look for the double meaning in the gambler's words. "Perhaps, he decided to visit Miz Garth."

"That is a possibility Chris." Nathan agreed. "Ya know Vin can't handle bein' cooped up in town too long."

"He'd a told us." Larabee stated with certainty.

"Perhaps," The gambler shrugged, turning his attention to the cards again. "Then again he may have considered it none of our business. Either way," He met Larbee's hard gaze, "I'm certain by tomorrow, Mr. Tanner will once more be under your protection."

Ezra released a small sigh of relief when Larabee finally allowed Nathan to pull him toward the peacekeeper's usual table.

*******

"Buck!" Molly's delighted squeal filled the air and she flung herself into the weary arms of the jovial gunslinger.

"Hello darlin'." He grinned, giving her a quick kiss. "That was worth the extra time ta get home tanight."

It was growing late and the occupants of the saloon had dwindled to a few patrons by the time the three weary, travel stained, peacekeepers pushed through the batwing doors. The bar maid hurried to fetch their drinks as looking exhausted each of the men called a greeting to Ezra before joining Chris and Nathan.

"Wasn't expectin' ya fellas back for a couple more days." Larabee's comment was more of a question than a statement.

"Aw hell that sheriff barely had a scratch. Just needed a couple a stitches but their doc is worse than ol' Nathan here." Buck complained.

"The sheriff finally asked us ta say ya had a emergency and needed us here so the doc would let him back ta work." Josiah chuckled. "Said he was goin' outta his mind with boredom."

"Hey Ezra get yer ass over here and buy us a welcome home drink." The womanizer called, pulling Molly onto his lap for another kiss.

"Where's Vin?" JD questioned realizing the sharpshooter wasn't among their group.

"We think he might have gone to visit Lucy." Nathan spoke up before Larabee could answer, hoping to end the subject before it got started.

"If you gentlemen would permit me," Ezra ignored the chair Josiah offered. Realizing this was the last drink he would be sharing with his friends, Ezra raised his glass as Inez passed each of the others a shot glass filled with the aged scotch the gambler kept behind the bar before setting the bottle on the table. "It has been my distinct honor to work with you gentlemen and it is indeed a pleasure welcome you home." He tossed back the liquor and forcing his best smile, moved for the stairs. "I hope you will excuse me but I intend to catch a quick nap before taking my shift at the jail."

Josiah frowned as the gambler disappeared from sight. "Am I that tired or did that toast sound like a goodbye to anyone else?" The ex-priest wasn't surprised when no one answered.

*******

Slipping a packet of bills into the inside pocket of his jacket, Ezra closed the heavy safe door and spun the dial. Lowering the wick of the lantern that barely emitted any illumination as it was, he tossed the saddlebags over his shoulder and pushed to his feet.

Ezra had relieved Chris and immediately done a quick patrol of the town, unable to spot the shadow Conners' had assigned to watch him. The con man had waited until he was certain the town residents were slumbering then making a last patrol he'd saddled Chaucer and left the horse hitched in the alley beside the bank.

With a last look at the sleeping town, his sweeping gaze searching for the prying eyes he was certain were watching, Ezra had quickly picked the lock and stepped into the bank. Conners was wrong, he realized as he let out a relieved breath. Whether it was from lack of practice or caused by nerves, it had taken longer to open the safe than even he had expected.

Now, the hard part over, he was prepared to leave and save his friend. Crossing the empty bank, he pulled the door shut behind him, hearing the lock tip back into place.

"Takin' a trip?" The softly growled words spoken from the darkness didn't cover the click of a six gun hammer being pulled back, as Ezra relocked the door.

"It's not what you think Mr. Larabee." Keeping his hands clear of his guns, the gambler slowly turned to face the gunslinger.

"That's exactly what I expected ya ta say." Chris shook his head in disgust. "Ya wanna tell me that ain't the bank's money in them saddle bags?"

Ezra remained silent, ignoring the weapon pointed at his abdomen as Larabee stepped up onto the boardwalk.

The gambler took a step backwards when the shootist reached for the leather bags draped over his shoulder. His heart pounding so hard he was sure the noise would wake the entire town, Standish met the hard hazel gaze steadily, but couldn't keep the pleading note from his voice. "Chris if you're ever going to trust me, it has to be now."

Larabee's hand free dropped to his side but the weapon remained trained on the gambler as he studied the smaller man.

"I promise you Chris...everything will be explained in just a few hours. All you have to do is go against every instinct and....trust me." Ezra remained motionless, his voice barely above a whisper. "Get the others and wait at Miller's Crossing...Ya have my word, ya won't be sorry."

Seeing the sudden uncertainty in the hazel eyes, Ezra took another cautious step backwards, waiting to see if the gunfighter would attempt to stop him.

"No!" Seeing movement in the shadows, the gambler lunged to push the gunslinger aside as the man Conners had stationed in town smashed the butt of his rifle against the back of Larabee's skull.

As the gunfighter collapsed to the boardwalk Chris' finger tightened on the trigger in reflex.

Pain tore through Ezra's side, as the bullet half spun the gambler and slammed him against the bank wall behind him.

"Come on! Let's get the hell outta here." The stranger jerked Ezra to his feet.

"Damn you!" Pulling his own weapon, the gambler slammed it against the man's jaw dropping him like a pole axed ox.

Kneeling beside Larabee, Ezra placed trembling fingers against his friend's throat relief surging through him at the strong pulse. At the sound of running footsteps, the gambler struggled to his feet. Pulling himself into the saddle and spurred the horse out of town.

*******

"Damnit! Shoulda known not ta trust that slick little bastard!" Larabee growled flinching away as Nathan pressed the cold compress to the knot on the back of his head. "JD, wake up Amos and ask him come watch that asshole," he waved in the direction of the jail cell, "then meet us at the livery."

"Chris ya ain't in any shape ta be-" Nathan began.

The gunslinger's glare stopped the healer from completing his sentence.

Awakened by the gunshot, the peacekeepers had gathered in the street, running toward the bank at the sound of a horse beating a hasty out of town, where they'd discovered the Hoosier making a pitiful attempt to get his knees under him in a disoriented effort to gain his feet.

"Chris? What the hell happened?" Buck helped his oldest friend into a sitting position allowing Nathan a chance to examine Larabee.

"R-robbery..."

"Heard somebody ridin' away but looks like ya got one of 'em anyway." JD announced proudly as Josiah examined the unconscious criminal. "Sounded like only one horse."

"E-Ezra." Chris mumbled.

"Ezra robbed the bank?" JD tried not to laugh as the men exchanged looks of confusion.

"Let's get these two over to the jail and see if we can sort out what the hell's goin' on." Buck suggested, before turning to the citizens who'd wander into the street out of curiosity. "Rest a y'all get back ta yer homes...Ain't nothin' here ta see."

"Where we goin' Brother?" Josiah questioned, glancing at the others as the portly banker burst through the door before their leader could answer.

"When are you going to learn Larabee?" McMurtry demanded. "I've told ya time and again that no account con man couldn't be trusted and now he's robbed the bank! I'm sending a wire to Judge Travis as soon as the telegraph office opens, letting him know exactly what's going on in this town. If you intend to continue in your capacity as lawmen I suggest you bring that good for nothing gambler back to face justice."

"And if you intend to continue breathing I suggest you immediately get the hell out of my sight." Chris snarled, his hand resting lightly on the six gun Buck had picked up and returned to its owner.

Throwing the men a scathing look the banker backed down and mumbling another dire warning about having all their jobs he slammed the door behind him.

JD focused on Larabee. "Chris you don't really think Ezra-"

"Thought I gave ya a damn order! Now let's go!" Larabee shoved Nathan away from him and snatching his hat from Buck's hands.

Not wanting to face his ire the other men silently followed.

*******

The first rays of dawn were lighting the eastern sky barely illuminating the trail when Ezra rode Chaucer into the tiny clearing and called out Billy Joe's name.

"Hey kid." The older man stepped from the trees, stretching away the kinks and rubbing at the small of his back. "Ground ain't as comfortable as that nice big feather bed a yourn. Ya got somethin' fer me?"

"Where's Mr. Tanner?"

Conners didn't answer looking beyond the gambler as another horseman entered the clearing.

"He's alone." The stranger answered his boss' unasked question.

'Five.' Ezra mentally counted. This wasn't the man from town or one of the two who'd held Vin hostage the previous afternoon. 'There are at least five of them.'

"Where's Vin?" Standish questioned again, a sharpness creeping into his voice.

The former soldier motioned and the man disappeared only to return a moment later leading Peso. Vin sat awkwardly in the saddle his hands still bound behind him. Conners ignored the tracker to focus on Standish. "Ya have any trouble?"

"None to speak of." The con man admitted moving his horse closer to Peso.

"Now let's see all that money." Billy Joe demanded impatiently.

"It has been suggested, Mr. Conners, that I don't trust anyone and while that may or may not be true, I certainly don't trust people I don't know and I don't know you...not any longer." Ezra sighed, keeping his tone neutral. "Even if I did trust you to keep your word concerning Mr. Tanner's safety, I don't know your compatriots. Either way, you don't seriously believe I'd be stupid enough to just stroll in here and hand over the safe's contents do you?"

"Where's the money Ezra?" Conners demanded again, anger beginning to climb in his tone.

"Not far away." The con man shrugged ignoring the pain caused by the movement. "Just a few miles actually. Having been in this area a few days, you've probably seen the place...the remains of a dilapidated shack covered with weeds and scrub...I could give you more explicit instructions but it would do you little good, since I hid the saddle bags containing the money, and you can believe me when I say you will never find them." At Conners angry growl, he added, "However, when Mr. Tanner is safely on his way back to town...alone...I'll take ya to it."

"How do we know ya even got the money." One of the other men questioned.

Pulling the packet from his pocket, Standish tossed it to Conners, watching as the man rifled through the bills, a greedy smile touching his lips.

The older man finally nodded. "Alright, he gets a ten minute start. Wanna be well on our way before he sends Larabee after our asses."

"That may take a while. Lady Luck seems to be on your side, or at least watching over Mr. Tanner as Mr. Larabee accompanied Nathan to Miller's Crossing late last evening." The cardsharp spoke as if he were discussing local gossip as he cut the ropes binding Vin's wrists hoping the tracker would understand the cryptic message and what he was trying to impart. "It's a small settlement just east of town." He explained seeing Billy Joe's suspicion.

In actuality, Miller's Crossing was so named because an old prospector named Miller had lived in the shack at the point where the trails to Four Corners and Eagle Bend met. The prospector had died years before and the weather beaten shack had fallen in on itself but the name had stuck.

"It seems Mrs. Potter's daughter went into labor." The gambler continued his seemingly casual conversation. "Why children insist on being born in the middle of the night or at the crack of dawn is beyond me, but in this case that fact worked to my advantage."

"Mr. Tanner's weapons if you please." Ezra demanded as he pressed his canteen into Vin's hands helping him drink, when the sharpshooter tried to rub the circulation back into the numb appendages. "You have my word he won't attempt any foolish action which might result in useless bloodshed."

The men waited for Conners' nod of approval before sliding the sharpshooter's rifle back into its scabbard and draped the holstered mare's leg over the saddle horn.

"On your way now Mr. Tanner." Ezra smiled giving a jerk of his head in the direction away from the clearing.

Tanner gave him a sorrowful blue eyed look and a small shake of his head, clearly not wanting to leave the gambler behind. "Ez-."

"When you didn't return yesterday, I suggested to our associates, you might have gone to visit a lady friend. I assure you, Mr. Tanner, the sooner you put Mr. Larabee's mind at ease concerning your welfare, the better." The gambler gripped Vin's hand. "It has truly been a pleasure Vin and an honor."

The sharpshooter still hesitated, not wanting to leave the southerner to his own devises. He didn't want to take the chance Conners wouldn't hold true to his word and release the con man as well but they were plainly out numbered here and Vin knew he would be of little help to the gambler. His arms ached and he could barely move his numb fingers after having been tied in one position for so many hours. He was loathe to admit it but there was no way he would be able to back Ezra at the present moment.

Swallowing hard, around the lump in his throat, Vin nodded, and with a last glance back at his friend, he rode from the clearing, hoping the gambler knew he'd understood what the man had told him. Ezra would be leading Connors and his men to Miller's Crossing where Chris and Nathan would be waiting.

*******

"What are we doin' here?" JD questioned softly, glancing past the boulders that hid him from view. No one had questioned Larabee as he led them to Miller's Crossing and ordered them to find concealment.

Nathan, hunkered down beside a nearby rock, shrugged. "Beats the hell outta me. Can't figure out why we're sittin' here on our asses like rabbits while Ezra's hell bound for who knows where with the bank's money."

JD's eyes widened. "Nathan ya don't really think he robbed the bank do ya?"

"Hell kid, ya heard Chris. Caught Ezra in the act and since the little weasel didn't put that goose egg on the back of Chris' head he weren't workin' alone. That fool in the jail proves that." The healer scrubbed a weary hand over his face, his inner voice arguing with the facts. He didn't want to believe Ezra had finally given into the temptation offered by his skills and the opportunity afforded him by his present job.

Much to his surprise, despite their differences the healer had truly come to care about the southerner and desperately wanted to believe the con man was simply caught up in some misunderstanding of the presented facts.

Wilmington carefully worked his way to where Larabee sat staring at the spot where the trails merged.

"Hey Hoss, ya wanna tell me what the hell's goin' on. What're we doin' here?" He kept his voice pitched low.

"Waitin'."

,p> "Hell, even I figured out that much." The womanizer grinned. "Why ya reckon Ez's is gonna show up here?"

Chris' eyes widened. Buck's perceptiveness never ceased to amaze his old friend. There were times when the jovial gunfighter seemed to read people and situations as easily and skillfully as the gambler or tracker.

On the ride, Chris had forced himself to calm down and replay the scene in front of the bank over and over again in his mind. He, himself, had learned to read the con man fairly well, not as good as Vin and Josiah or even Buck, for that matter, but he had seen no deception when the man had pleaded for his trust.

"Chris if you're ever going to trust me, it has to be now."

Upon regaining consciousness, Larabee had been enraged that the gambler had distracted him long enough for an unknown partner to gain the advantage but when that rage had dissipated he clearly remembered the shock which he'd seen in the southerner's eyes, as well as the gambler's shout of warning and his attempt to stop the attack.

"All you have to do is go against every instinct and....trust me."

The wily cardsharp would be stunned to discover, Larabee had no doubt regarding Ezra's trustworthiness. The gamester had long ago wiped away any and all doubts concerning his loyalty.

He realized he hadn't answered Buck and quietly murmured, "He told me so."

"And you believed him." Buck couldn't prevent his smile, happy to see the gambler had completely won over their leader, hoping some day Ezra would realize that while they might tease him about his scheming, harangue him about his questionable ethics and lecture him on his cynical view of humanity, he was still a part of their family and they would always stand by him.

"Called me Chris." A small smile touched Larabee's lips and lit his hazel eyes. "He called me Chris."

"Rider comin'." Josiah's low rumble drew everyone's attention.

Relief surged through Larabee as the rising sun revealed the approaching figure of the buckskin clad sharpshooter.

Vin reined Peso to a stop at the Hoosier's soft whistle. Ready for trouble, the five men rushed to his side as the sharpshooter slid weakly from the saddle, clinging to the saddlehorn in an attempt to remain upright.

"Easy now Vin, we got ya." Larabee quickly assured him as he and Buck supported the tracker's weight, half carrying the slight man toward cover and easing him to the ground. "JD, get his horse outta sight."

"Musta pissed Lucy off somethin' terrible." Wilmington teased, his light tone not reflecting the worry in his blue eyes as he took in the tracker's condition.

"Looks like Peso finally got pissed, tossed him into a cactus patch and then stomped on 'im." The ex-priest half joked.

"I'm fine." The lean ex-bounty hunter batted the hands away as Nathan attempted to examine his injuries.

"Yeah we can see that." The healer gave him a sardonic sneer as the tracker gasped aloud when he pressed on the bruised ribs.

Vin struggled to sit up, hissing painfully at the effort. "Don't matter none. Leave m' be...Gotta tell ya...Ez-"

"You saw Ezra?" Josiah blurted needing reassurance that the gambler was safe.

"He's behind me...'bout five minutes or so...Chris..."

"Ya bleedin'?" Nathan gripped Vin's chin tilting his head to look at the cuts and bruises before searching for bullet holes, wondering about the red mark encircling the sharpshooter's throat.

"No, I ain't. Now leave m' be." Vin ground out in frustration.

Larabee motioned for Nathan to back away until Vin finished what he needed to say. "How many?"

"Four asides him."

Not one to give up easily, Nathan grabbed the tracker's wrist. "Where'd the blood come from?" The healer demanded to know.

"What blood?" Vin stared in confusion at the smear of red covering his right hand.

"Everybody get ready." Larabee ordered brusquely. As Vin attempted to push to his feet, Larabee's glare pinned him to the ground. "Nathan ya stay with him."

"Chris!" Tanner caught the Hoosier's wrist. "Gotta tell ya..."

"Later." The gunslinger nodded giving the tracker's shoulder a soft squeeze. "Don't worry...Nobody's gonna hurt Ezra."

*******

It was taking every ounce of the gambler's concentration to remain in the saddle, struggling to appear calm and in control of the situation. He could feel the slow stream of blood which soaked through the ripped shirt he'd used to bind the gunshot wound. He glanced down at the crimson which stained his pants leg.

'Not good Standish.' His inner voice pointed out needlessly. He ignored it as he tried to ride out the pain which rippled through him with each step of Chaucer's smooth gait.

'Just a little longer. Just a little longer.' The gambler silently chanted the mantra as they neared the crossroads.

Soon it would be over. Unless Larabee had been hurt worse than Ezra thought, he had no doubt, whatsoever, Chris and the others would be waiting.

He knew they wouldn't be able to jail Conners' and his men for robbing the Four Corners bank even if they were caught with the money, only Ezra was guilty of that crime, but the lawmen would be able to hold them for assault on a duly appointed peacekeeper.

It flickered through his pain dulled mind, it would soon be over. Ezra would either be apprehended with the other criminals, remaining silent as he sat in a jail cell letting the blood drain away or he'd make good his escape, find a hidey hole and wait for death to claim him. At least if he could pull off the latter, he wouldn't spend his last hours of his life locked in a prison cell.

Unlike Vin, he didn't mind small spaces but he wasn't foolish enough to believe he could handle the filth, degradation and humiliation of prison life. He knew with certainty he would rather bleed to death than hear the turn of the lock that would mean several years without the freedom to come and go as he pleased, passing his time, staring at the sunlight and stars through a small barred window. That was no life.

"What about Charlie?" The question posed by one of Conners' men forced Ezra's attention to the men traveling beside him.

"He knows where ta meet up with us." Billy Joe reined his horse closer to Chaucer. "Ya don't look so good kid."

"I'm perfectly fine." The gambler stated dispassionately. 'Considering the fact, I no longer have a home, friends, Nica...a name of my own.'

"Come with me kid. Ride with us." The older man conjoled. "Ya know ya can't go back ta that pitiful excuse of a town so come along with me. Hell it'll be like old times. With your brains and my leadership we'll end up the richest men in the territory."

Conners burst into laughter at Ezra's stunned expression of disbelief, slapping the gambler's shoulder, not seeing the grimace of pain his action caused the younger man. "Aww hell, admit it...I actually did ya a favor. Ya didn't belong back there in that hick town. Yer mighty good Ezra but ya can't con them that knows ya best...or yerself either. Ya didn't fit in with them fellas anymore than a nun in a whorehouse. How long ya figure it'd be afore they cut ya loose or sacrificed ya for one a their own?"

The southerner knew the older man was only voicing the thoughts which had raced through his own mind a million times, but that didn't lessen the hurt.

"Think about it Ezra...Why waste yer God given talents?"

The gambler mentally cringed, for one fleeting moment certain it was his mother seated on the horse at his side.The cardsharp couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. If he'd listened to the woman, stuck with the rules she'd instilled in him to never let anyone close and always look first and foremost after number one, he wouldn't be in this position. "As you have so elequently stated it is plainly obvious I will no longer be welcom in Four Corners and while I appreciate the offer I prefer my own company."

"Just think about it." Conners shrugged. "How much farther?"

Ezra wearily drew rein. "We're here." He blinked rapidly, trying to focus his increasingly blurry vision. Knowing how Larabee thought, he casually gazed about the area, searching for the men he was certain...No, he hoped were waiting in hiding in ambush. A small smile graced his pale features as he finally spotted the subtle difference in the shades of tan among the boulders several yards away, certain it was the color of an old all too familiar tanned buckskin jacket. Ezra wearily drew rein. "We're here." He blinked rapidly trying to focus his increasingly blurry vision. Knowing how Larabee thought, he casually gazed about the area searching for the men he was certain...No, he hoped...were waiting in ambush.

A small smile graced his pale features as he spotted the subtle difference in the shades of tan among the boulders several yards away, certain that was the color of an old all too familiar buckskin jacket.

The joy he felt, knowing Tanner was there was destroyed as Conners suddenly grabbed his arm, nearly pulling him from his saddle.

"Where the hell's the money Ezra?"

The smile still touching his lips, grew slightly as the con man kneed Chaucer, walking the horse beneath an enormous ancient Cottonwood tree that stood guard over the remains of the old prospector's home. Directly beneath the spreading branches, he pulled the gelding to a stop

"Hell, Billy how the shit do we even know he really robbed the bank? Shoulda had Charlie come back with him." One of the men grumbled, pulling his six gun and aiming it at the gambler's back, returning Conners hard look.

"Where Ezra?" Billy Joe repeated, his tone angry and more demanding.

The gambler's smile widened even further as he stared at the hand gripping the saddle horn, stubbornly concentrating on raising his index finger until it pointed upward.

Billy Joe's expression grew colder. "Don't be tellin' me ya don't need another fuckin' minute cause ya fergot where ya put it!"

"Let's just shoot 'im, find the damn things and get the hell outta here." The other man grumbled, hammering back the trigger. "As far as we know he's just playin' us fer fools, leadin' us into a trap."

"Ya don't know my young friend here." The older man shook his head, a glint of admiration in his cold brown eyes. "Boy's got imagination. Knowin' Ezra we could probably search till hell froze over and still not find what's ours....Where's the money Ezra?"

"Look up." The two words took more strength than the con man would have ever imagined.

Conners' chuckle built into a roar of laughter as following the gambler's instructions the four men raised their eyes searching among the overhead foliage to discover the well worn saddlebags draped over a branch high above their heads.

Billy swiped at his eyes. "Damn kid, ya was right...we never woulda found 'em."

"How the hell we 'sposed ta get 'em down from there ya stupid sonuvabitch?" The mouthy rider stormed.

"That is not my problem." Ezra stated, blinking rapidly, his hands tightening on the reins as the world seemed determined to tilt sideways.

Millers Crossing was half way between Four Corners and the clearing where Conners had waited. Tightly securing the flaps, seated on his horse, emitting an exclamation of pain that had startled the chestnut gelding, Ezra had pitched the bags as high as possible. Luck had been with him when they had caught among the branches near the trunk on the first throw.

It was there, knowing he would be of no use to the tracker if he passed out or expired before Tanner's release, he'd then taken a few moments to rip one of the shirts he'd packed binding the wound in his side. His ministrations would garner Nathan's wrath when the healer saw his sorry assed attempt to stop the bleeding. He caught himself. The odds were Nathan would never again tend to his injuries.

"Deke, shinny up there and fetch down those bags." Billy Joe ordered.

Standish reined Chaucer in the direction of Eagle Bend. "I have kept my part of the bargain and shall be on my way...Mr. Conners I wish I could s-say it was a pleasure seeing y-ya again."

Despite his best efforts, his words slurred.

"Where the hell ya think yer goin'?" The man with the drawn gun turned his full attention to the gambler once more, leveling the weapon at the man.

"I...I honestly h-have no idea..." The southerner mused. "M-most likely ta hell, c-considerin' the life I've led."

"Let him go Slim. Gave him my word and I stand by it." Conners announced. "Offer ta join me's open anytime kid. ya come ta yer senses, ya look me up and we'll be rich men."

Shaking his hand, knowing it would never happen, without looking back, fully expecting the gunshot that would put a quick end to his miserable existence, Ezra gave a small wave and guided Chaucer down the road.

*******

"What the hell are they doin'?" Buck whispered as the men sat their horses staring up into the branches of the large Cottonwood. One of the men stood in the saddle, hauling himself up into the limbs.

Larabee didn't answer, his hard gaze never leaving the men a few yards away as Ezra guided Chaucer away from the group giving a small wave as he departed.

As soon as the gambler was out of danger, the gunslinger smoothly rose to his feet and fired a warning shot. The bullet burrowed a path in the dirt at the feet of the young man who dropped to the ground from the lowest limb, tossing a set of bulging saddlebags to Conners as he did.

*******

Ezra hesitated as the echo of the single shot washed over him. When no further gunfire was heard he urged Chaucer forward. Swiping the back of his hand across his eyes, the gambler didn't look back.

*******

The citizens of Four Corners stopped their actions to watch as the six peacekeepers returned to town.

Buck, JD and Josiah were leading their captive's horses stopping at the jail, Chris, his arms wrapped tightly around the unconscious sharpshooter who was riding double with him, followed Nathan to the healer's clinic.

Finding themselves surrounded, Conners and his men had surrendered without a fight. As they were being disarmed and bound, Billy Joe had repeatedly questioned why they were being arrested as none of them had committed a crime.

Tanner, struggling stubbornly away from Nathan, had pushed to his feet only to slide silently to the ground.

Quickly checking the sharpshooter again, Nathan had assured the five concerned men it was probably nothing more than a combination of weariness and a slight concussion but he'd know more once they were back in town where he could examine Vin more fully.

Now as the two men made the tracker comfortable in the clinic and Nathan prepared to do that examination, Mary hurried in, "Chris, Mr. McMurtry's headed for the jail. You better get over there." She turned to the healer. "Can I be of help Nathan?"

"He's gonna be fine Chris. Ya go take care a business." Nathan urged, gathering his supplies as Mary put water on to heat. "Go on now. I'll holler if we need ya."

As Larabee stomped from the room, barely stopping himself from slamming the door, the newspaper woman looked up from the water pitcher. "Nathan, did Ezra really rob the bank?"

"Sure does look that way." The healer commented, still finding it hard to believe what so clearly seemed to be reality. "Should be an interesting tale Ol' Ez comes up with ta explain what happened...if we ever catch up with him ta hear it."

Concerned about Vin they were on their way back to town before JD mentioned their obvious oversight that the gambler who hadn't returned to the crossroads wasn't among the peacekeepers or their prisoners.

Mary gave him a strange look. "So, just go to the saloon and ask him."

The dark healer's head jerked up. "Pardon?"

"Ezra rode into town a few minutes before you all did. I saw him going into the saloon." Mary stated. "And I hate to admit it, but he seemed awfully calm for someone who'd committed a crime."

*******

"Do you men understand the sole purpose of your current employment here is to protect this town?" McMurtry was raging at the calm peacekeepers when Larabee entered the jail.

"According to the wire I received a few moments ago, Judge Travis should be arriving on the morning stage." The banker motioned to the telegram the sheriff was calmly reading.

"You boys better catch a nap while ya can." Buck glared at the five men in the cells. "Judge likes to be....expedient." The womanizer grinned, thinking how proud Ezra would be at his increased vocabulary. "Ol' Travis'll probably hold court this afternoon."

"Don't need you tellin' us our job McMurtry." Larabee growled slamming the door, that noisey but somewhat satisfying action doing nothing to release his frustration and worry. "Shouldn't ya be at the bank, foreclosin' on some poor widow woman and her youngun's or at least checkin' ta see how much was taken 'stead a tryin' ta give us grief?"

"Jacob and I had just started that very deed when I saw you gentlemen return to town." The banker looked as if he wanted to choke on the word gentlemen and Chris couldn't help but wonder which deed he was referring to...the foreclosing or the checking. "I think Travis will find it interesting that you're more interested in bringing these drifters to justice for whatever trivial crime they might have committed instead of recovering my money."

"Don't ya mean the town's money?" The young sheriff slammed the saddlebags down on the desk, giving the arrogant banker a glare that did Larabee proud as the youngster added the packet of bills Sanchez had taken from Conners' jacket pocket.

'Kid's been practicin'. Wilmington thought exchanging a sly smile with Josiah.

"I suppose you think the return of the money will save ya from arresting that thieving gambler?" The banker blustered his face turning red with rage as he opened one of the pouches examining the contents. "Is this some kind of a practical joke Larabee?"

"What the hell?"

The men locked in the cells moved closer to the bars trying to see around the peacekeepers as Larabee, upended the open bag dumping its contents onto the desk.

*******

Billy Joe doubled over with laughter as the regulators stared at the objects which had fallen onto the desk, exchanging looks of confusion.

Tossing the laughing man a glare that did nothing to end his loud gleeful sounds, Larabee hastily opened the second bag.

"Well?" The young sheriff questioned when the shootist stood staring into the bulging leather pouch.

Reaching into the bag, the gunslinger withdrew a handful of bills which, like the first bag, at a glance, hid the torn strips of newspaper filling the bag.

"Where the hell's my money Larabee?" McMurtry demanded to know. When no one answered, the portly man whirled and moved for the door. "If you're not going to do your damn job then I will!"

Josiah moved to block his exit from the jail. "And just which part of our job is it ya intend to do, Mr. McMurtry?"

"I intend to find out where the hell my money is...And then I intend to see that thievin' gambler rot in jail." The man sneered.

"Now there's somethin' I'd pay good money a my own ta see." Wilmington laughed slapping JD on the shoulder. "Ol' fat McMurtry ridin' all over the countryside looking for our fancy little peacock."

The banker snorted in disgust. "Why would I bother looking any further than the saloon." He glared at the lawmen. "Isn't that where you were planning to meet him? Perhaps you were hoping to help him spend my money on your alcohol and loose women."

JD slipped past the banker and out the door and as Buck took several steps towards the banker, his eyes flashing fire over the latter part of the man's statement, Chris grabbed his old friend's arm.

"Buck go with JD. If Ezra is there...ask him to please come over here." Larabee took his eyes off McMurtry long enough to toss Josiah a sympathic glance.

He hadn't yet figured out exactly what was going on...how Billy Joe fit into the whole scheme of things...what exactly had happened to Vin...or what Ezra had done with the money he'd obviously taken from the bank. Until that time he refused to give McMurtry the satisfaction of having Ezra treated with anything other than respect and he surely didn't want to put Sanchez in the position of having to arrest the man he'd come to think of as a son.

As soon as the door closed behind Wilmington the gunslinger slowly advanced on the banker. "Ya wanna continue with what ya were saying cause if I understood your last statement correctly you fat, sanctimonious sonuvabitch you damn well better not be accusing me or any my and I do mean any of my men of wrong doin'. If ya were..." Larabee let the sentence hang, the menace clear in his voice and eyes.

The banker backed up running into the immovable solid human wall that was Josiah. McMurtry's mouth moved soundlessly, as the shootist took another step toward him. "You get this straight, you smug bastard. You will not open your mouth...not one word until Ezra's finished telling his side of this. You won't speak of this! Not to him and not to anyone in town. If you do, I won't hesitate to make sure your lips are shut for you...permanently."

There was no one in the room, McMurtry least of all, who doubted the gunman would do just that.

*******

JD looked at Buck, his dark eyes full of confusion as he realized Chaucer stood in front of the saloon hitch rail, the reins drapped loosely over the saddle horn. He knew unless frightened for his life the loyal animal would obediently wait where he'd been left but it wasn't like the gamester not to take care of the steed. Ezra loved that horse as much as he loved gambling. Freeing the leathers, JD hitched the animal to the rail before heading into the bar with Buck.

As they pushed through the batwing doors and crossed to the stairs leading to the second floor, Inez behind the bar wiping glasses, looked up, her expression worried and frightened.

Buck hesitated seeing the tiny shake of her head. Turning he slowly scanned the nearly empty room finally spotting the con man seated at a table in the corner. He was nearly concealed by shadows and Wilmington had to look twice to make sure it was indeed Standish.

The jovial womanizer, his face serious turned to the young woman. "Inez?"

"Senor Ezra did not look good when he arrived Buck." The Spanish woman whispered. "When I took him coffee I offered to go for Nathan but he said that was not necessary and it would be a waste of the good doctor's time." She couldn't and didn't try to hide her concern. "Something is wrong Buck. He has not moved or said anything since.I know he did not do what they say but..."

"It's okay. We'll get it straightened out." Wilmington hoped he sound more reassuring than he felt. Taking a deep breath he forced a smile and approached the southerner. "Mornin' Ez...."

*******

Ezra wasn't sure how he'd ended up in Four Corners. He'd been certain when he left the crossroads he'd been headed for Eagle Bend. Evidently Chaucer had other ideas. Chaucer. His loyal old friend had seen him through so much but had now betrayed him by bringing him here...the one place he both wanted and didn't want to be.

At least the southerner could take comfort in knowing Vin and JD would see that Chaucer was taken care of. He hoped they remembered his four legged friend liked peppermints.

Ezra hadn't intended to return to Four Corners but even in the state he was in, he had to admit feeling an overwhelming sense of joy when the weather worn buildings of the familiar town had come into focus in his increasingly blurred vision.

It was small consolation. He'd probably be shot on sight but at least he'd die at home and his friends wouldn't be subjected to the humilation of 'I told you so's' and 'you should have known better's' as he stood trial. They wouldn't have to watch as he was escorted away to do his time in prison.

Realizing it a little to late for it to really matter anymore, he'd finally found a home and that's where he wanted to die.

Ezra hadn't the strength to climb the stairs, allowing him to spend his last moments in the comfort of his feather bed, but somehow he forced his legs to work, carrying him to the shadowy corner table where he was less likely to be noticed. As he had dropped into the chair, regret washed over him. Damn, but he had hoped to see his friends once more...to know that Vin was safe and well, having suffered no ill effects from Connors actions...Just one more time, to let them all know how truly sorry he was for deceiving them but it seemed Lady Luck, the fickle mistress he had looked to all his life, didn't deem him worthy of a last wish.

He struggled to focus on figures which moved nearer his table. He could feel his heartbeat slowing as the blood continued to drain from his body and the welcoming blackness crept at him from all directions.

"Mornin' Ez."

A smile touched his lips at the familiar voice which cut through the roaring in his ears and Buck's jovial visage swam into view. He wanted to tell the man something. What was it? The thought slipped away as the blackness engulfed its victim.

*******

"Ez?...Ya okay?" JD glanced at Buck fearfully as the gambler barely acknowledged their presence, with a sad smile at Wilmington's greeting.

"Ez?..." Buck's heart began to race and he quickly moved to stoop beside the chair as with a soft smile the gambler's emerald eyes slid closed and the con man's chin dropped to his chest. He would have slipped from the chair if Wilmington hadn't grabbed him.

"JD get Nathan." The womanizer ordered, fear surging through his veins as he placed two fingers against the cold clammy skin of the southerner's throat searching for a pulse. "Now!"

The sharply barked word pulled the stunned sheriff from his stupor and sent him scurrying into the street, shouting the healer's name.

Buck glanced over his shoulder to the cowboy leaning against the bar. "Mike can ya give me a hand gettin' him to his room?"

As they maneuvered the con man through the tables, Wilmington's glare silenced several people who were muttering about the con man's apparent drunken display so early in the morning.

*******

As sleep gave way to wakefulness, Vin lay motionless his eyes closed, accessing his surroundings. Years of cautious practice, which had kept him alive dictated he use senses other than sight to assess his current location and situation.

He listened and heard the sound of boot heels against wood, with an intermediate pause as person turned to retrace their steps. An inhaled breath indicated the sweet smell of herbs and the sharp tang of medicine. The mattress under him, with its cool sheets and familiar sag could only mean one thing. He was in the clinic.

He listened closer to the sound of the boot heels, recognizing the familiar stride.

"B-Buck." The word was barely a croak as the sharpshooter licked at dry lips and opened his eyes.

The older man hurried to his bedside. "Good ta see ya awake Pard. Thought ya was gonna sleep the day away." The mustached man smiled pouring the tracker a cup of water and holding it to his lips, nodding in approval when the younger man swallowed it all. "How ya feelin'?"

"Little sore." Tanner pulled himself into a seated position, wincing at the pain caused by the badly bruised ribs. He looked around the small clinic. "Where's everybody?"

It wasn't often one of the seven awoke in the clinic and didn't discover the other six waiting anxiously for their recovery.

"Want some coffee?" Buck moved to the stove, turning his back on the sharpshooter so the intuitive tracker couldn't read his expression. He had hoped the Texan wouldn't ask questions but it had been a forlorn hope.

"Rather have an answer to my damn question." Vin groused, sitting up on the edge of the bed and drawing on his trousers. He could never figure out why Nathan always stripped a man's clothes off first thing but then he realized, the healer probably figured to keep him in the clinic if he was naked, knowing as soon as the tracker was able he would high tail it for the wide open space to heal.

Fumbling he pulled on his shirt. Fastening his trousers, he awkwardly pulled his suspenders into place. The sharpshooter grimaced as he bent to retrieve his boots, the noise finally capturing Buck's full atttention.

"Hey...What the hell ya think yer doin'?" Wilmington growled, snatching the boot from the tracker's hand. "Nathan'll have my ass if ya leave here without his say so. Probably make me drink that crap he brewed up for E..." Realizing the mistake he was about to make, the gun man bit off the word and quickly changed the subject. "Judge came in on the mornin' stage. Chris couldn't keep McMurtry away from him any...Where the hell ya goin'?"

Ignoring the bigger man, Vin had pushed to his feet and crossed the small room, pulling the door open and was ready to step out on the balcony.

Reaching over Tanner's head, Buck slammed the door shut. "At least put your damn boots on. I'm gonna catch hell from Nathan and Chris either way but it ain't gonna be fer ya catchin' yer death runnin' round in yer stockin' feet." Muttering under his breath what the two men would probably do to his sorry hide, he steered the sharpshooter over to a chair, and pushed him down on it. Smashing the battered gray felt hat down on the ex-bounty hunter's long curls, he knelt to help the man into his footwear.

*******

"So exactly why are you holding those men if indeed Mr. Standish is the person who robbed the bank?" Judge Orrin Travis questioned the two men across from him.

"We don't exactly know for sure..." Chris began, only to be cut off by the banker.

"I beg to differ. Larabee himself said he caught that thievin...bas-...gambler in the very act. He probably hopes to convince you to charge them with the robbery instead of Standish."

"None of it makes sense Judge." The saloon was unusually quiet as throwing scathing looks at the portly banker, Chris continued pressing his argument. "But until we can talk to-"

"I can tell ya why yer holdin' 'em."

The quiet words drew everyone's attention to the two men who had entered. Giving Buck a thankful nod, Vin shrugged off his helping hand and crossed to take the seat next to Larabee.

"That would be greatly appreciated Mr. Tanner." Travis smiled, taking in the young man's condition and thinking he should be in the clinic. Understanding the strong bond of friendship that had developed between the regulators, the jurist knew the sharpshooter would have been there if he had to crawl."It's good to see you up and around. I hear you had a small accident."

Filling the coffee cups she placed in front of Vin and Buck, Inez refilled the cups already on the table and throwing a glance that plainly said 'mind your own business' towards the other customers she returned to the bar but kept her eyes on the group gathered at the peacekeepers usual table.

"Weren't no accident Judge. Them fellas ya's was just talkin' 'bout ambushed me." Vin paused long enough to gulp at the hot brew, his growling stomach suddenly reminding him how long it had been since he'd last eaten. Right now there was more important things to take care of. Leaning forward he rested his arms on the table and began talking.

The other men's expressions as he related his tale told the sharpshooter they had been oblivious of the events surrounding Conners, him and Ezra. And it was plain to see they hadn't known the reasons behind them until this moment. He glanced at Larabee, his expression asking why hadn't Ezra explained it all to them. Had the stubborn southerner chosen to sit in jail rather than give McMurtry the satisfaction of an explanation. Had Larabee even bothered to ask what was going on or had he let his temper get the better of him and tossed the cocky con man into a cell refusing to even listen to what the gambler had to say?

McMurty cleared his throat. "That's all well and good but it still doesn't explain where my money is." The banker scoffed. "Seems to me that cocky southern sonuva...Seems to me he was planning on double crossing his partners in crime and you Tanner were a merely a convenient excuse if he got caught."

Vin straightened, his blue eyed gaze drilling the portly banker. "What the hell ya talkin' about?" He spun around to Chris. "What's he talkin' 'bout?!" He demanded.

It was Travis who spoke up. "It seems Mr. Tanner that other than the thousand dollars he gave to his friend, as proof, the only money found in the saddlebags was a few hundred dollars. The rest was torn up newspaper which simply gave the illusion of the pouches being filled with money." The judge explained. He turned his attention to the banker. "Tell me, Mr. McMurtry, exactly how much money was taken from the bank?"

The banker looked to his young accountant sitting at the next table, a large leather bound ledger in front of him. "I trust you finished that tally as I ordered, Jacob."

"Yes sir." The man nodded. "One thousand and twenty two dollars was missing from the safe."

"That's all?" Buck voiced everyone's disbelief.

"Yes sir." Jacob stated. "I tallied it four times to be sure. One thousand twenty two dollars." He repeated firmly.

Buck shook his head. "Why the hell go to all the trouble of robbing the bank..." Wilmington glanced at Vin apologetically. "Other then the obvious reason, and not take all the money?" He shot a glance at McMurtry questioning suspiciously. "Ya do have more than a thousand twenty two dollars in that bank don't ya?"

The other men laughed as the banker flustered.

Travis smile and sighed, his voice pensive. "I'm afraid only Mr. Standish will be able to answer your prior question Buck."

"Well then, get his ass in here and let 'im tell ya his side." Vin demanded, fear gripping his heart as everyone suddenly seemed to avoid his gaze.

"Jacob!"

The youth practically jumped to attention as Larabee barked out his name. "Yes sir?"

"That ledger there..." He pointed to the open book on the table. "That's got everybody's account in it, right?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Larabee." Jacob nodded vigorously. "Mr. McMurtry keeps real good records...Everything's always accounted for right down to the last penny."

"So can ya look in there and tell us how much money Ezra has in the bank?"

"I...I..." The flustered teller looked at his boss.

"You have no right to know that, Larabee." McMurtry sneered. "I'm sure Standish wouldn't appreciate my announcing to the town exactly how much of their hard earned money he's managed to accumulate with his...skills, anymore than you would like me to tell them how much you have."

Larabee half rose from his chair to go after the banker, but the judge laid a hand on his arm. "It's alright Chris." He had a pretty good idea where the gunman's questions were leading. He focused on the banker. "Answer the question. I would like to know how much Mr. Standish has in the bank." The judge's tone left no doubt he didn't intend to take no for an answer. "I will take full responsibility and I'm sure Miss Recillios won't mind if we ask her customers to step outside until we've concluded this rather personal issue."

"Why don't ya just ask him?" Like a dog with a bone Tanner was determined to get answers to his own questions. "Where's Ez?"

Buck and Chris ignored the tracker's question, pretending it was drowned out by the noise of scraping chairs and shuffling feet as Inez hustled the other patrons from the building.

As the last one cleared the exit and the Spanish woman closed the door behind them, Travis turned to the banker. "Now Mr. McMurtry I would like to hear the answer to Mr. Larabee's question. How much money does Ezra have in his account with your bank?"

At the banker's reluctant nod, Jacob opened the ledger and flipped to the correct page. "As of his last deposit, Mr. Standish's account stands at..." The young man looked up, blinking several times before swallowing hard and uttering. "One thousand twenty two dollars and 7 cents."

"Ezra have any money on him Buck?"

"A hunnerd dollar bill." Wilmington knew Chris was asking about the money Ezra kept tucked in the special pocket sewn on the inside of his boot and didn't think anyone needed to know the money had been hidden in the gambler's hat.

"There was one thousand seven hundred and fifty six dollars in the saddlebags and the packet we took off Conners." Larabee mused. They all knew besides the money carried in his boot, Ezra kept a ready stash of emergency cash hidden in his room "Wanna bet if we searched his room and belongings we wouldn't find anything except that hundred dollar bill?"

"Irregardless that low life con man still robbed my bank!" McMurtry persisted, determined to see the man, everyone seemed to find so charming, punished.

Travis shrugged. "I see no further reason to pursue this. It seems to me, that Mr. Standish simply made an emergency withdrawal of his own funds."

"And bein' the considerate fella he is, ol' Ez just didn't wanna drag yer ass outta bed in the middle a the night." Buck grinned, giving the sharpshooter's shoulder a light squeeze hoping his teasing tone would erase the expression of guilt from Tanner's handsome face.

Like the others, the lean tracker was facing the realization Ezra had given almost everything he had, keeping only enough money for a stake, to insure Tanner's freedom.

As McMurtry left the table in a huff, Vin pushed to his feet. "Where is Ezra?" Tanner voiced the question, his tone demanding an answer.

*******

Epilogue

As Vin poked his head into the gambler's room, Ezra placed a finger to his lips, signalling silence and pointing to where Larabee dozed in the rocker.

"Brought ya somethin." Tanner whispered as he slipped inside and quietly closed the door. The tracker pulled his hand from behind his back revealing a pie pan. "Miss Nettie made ya a pie."

Placing the pie pan on the bedside table, he helped adjust the pillows behind Ezra's back, seeing the flinch of pain that crossed the gambler's face before Standish was able to hide it.

The sharpshooter's happy expression faltered. He remembered the way his heart had sank to the pit of his empty stomach when he'd entered this room two weeks earlier.

Motionless, with less color than the sheets he lay on, Vin had thought Ezra was dead.

Nathan had assured him that while the bullet had gone through and there was no sign of infection Standish had lost a great deal of blood, but Tanner had heard the healer's unspoken words 'possibly too much.'

Fighting the blood loss, they'd passed three tension filled days sitting at his bedside, forcing liquids and Nathan's healing tea down the unconscious man's throat in an attempt rebuild the southerner's strength. They each had speculated on how the gambler had been wounded, especially after Connors and his men denied any knowledge of the injury.

By the time, Ezra was able to stay awake for more than a few minutes a day, Connors and his men were being escorted to Missouri to stand trial for several crimes committed there.

Although Connors had asked to see Ezra one last time to bid him goodbye, Larabee had refused the request. The man had caused the southerner enough grief and he was just glad the man was going to be locked up for a long time. Friends like him were exactly what Standish didn't need.

Now looking better than he had in days, the gambler smiled as he watched the tracker sneak into the room.

Retrieving a fork, he'd wrapped in a napkin, from his back pocket, Vin eased himself down onto the side of the bed. Handing the utensil to his friend, he smiled as the con man took a bite, momentarily closing his eyes, smiling with delightful satisfaction.

"Heavenly." The gambler savored the bite, sighing in contentment. "That wizened old crone certainly does excel in the art of baking."

Vin nodded in agreement. "Told her peach is yer favorite."

"Interesting." The gambler took another bite, shaking the fork at the younger man. "I was under the misguided delusion that Pecan was my favorite, although Rubbarb definitely runs a close second. I'm surprised the kind hearted lady trusted you with such a treasure and I'm even more suprised that it actually arrived intact since peach pie is your favorite."

The tracker blushed. "She promised me a'nothern iffen that'n arrived whole. You'll tell her it did won't ya?" He pleaded.

Ezra nodded. "You have my solemn word. Now as delightful as this is, I'm afraid I simply cannot consume it all. Why don't you join me in disposing of this delectable confectionary?" Ezra arched an eyebrow in question. "Although it's not exactly proper etiquette, I will gladly share my fork."

"No thanks." Tanner gave him a lopsided grin reaching into his pocket again. "Brought my own. Hopin' ya'd share..."

*******

"Ezra!"

The gambler struggled between not dropping the almost empty pie pan he and Vin were eating from and not choking on the mouthful he was attempting to swallow as Larabee lurched from the chair, yelling the southerner's name. Startled by the gunslinger's terrified shout, Vin and Ezra exchanged worried glances as sinking back and gasping for air, clutching the arms of the rocking chair, Chris fought to get his heart rate back to normal.

"Are you alright Mr. Larabee?" Ezra questioned with concern.

"Chris?" Vin half rose from his seat, but the gunslinger motioned for him to stay where he was as he pinned his hazel gaze on the con man.

"I shot you."

"Musta been a helluva dream." Tanner chuckled, helping himself to another bite of pie. "I mean ya've threatened Ol' Ez enough times but-"

"No...It was me..." Chris insisted as he pushed to his feet.

Ezra avoided his gaze turning his attention back to the dessert on his lap.

"Answer me, Ezra." He ordered quietly. "I shot you didn't I Ezra?"

A long moment passed in silence as the gambler used the fork to pick at the flaky pie crust. "Mr. Larabee as Mr. Tanner just pointed out you have, on more than one occasion, threatened to shoot me. However, I can honestly say it is a rare instance when I take those threats seriously. Perhaps..."

"Cut the damn double talk! Shit! I shot you Ezra!" Larabee growled raking a hand through his hair. "Why the hell didn't you say something? Anything? We asked ya what happened and-"

"And I told you the truth." The emerald eyes met Larabee's glare steadily. "What happened that night was nothing more than an unfortunate accident brought about by circumstances over which neither of us had any control."

"I shot you." Chris persisted, guilt in his tone and face.

"As you have stated repeatedly." The con man sighed rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Please Mr. Larabee, don't expect me to absolve you of something over which you had no control. I don't blame you in the least. If, however, you insist on feeling guilty that is most certainly your perogative but please do it quietly as Mr. Tanner and I are trying to enjoy this delicious treat Miz Wells sent to aid my recovery." His emerald eyes suddenly began to twinkle and his dimples deepened as he grinned. "If it will ease your conscience...the next time I take your threat to shoot me even half way seriously I will be more than happy to remind you that you have already accomplished that particular task."

Vin nodded around another bite of pie. "And ya got me as a witness."

Ezra gave the tracker a wicked look. "Perhaps," he mused becoming thoughtful. "I should permit the man to injure me again. I'm sure another wound would be worthy of at least several of these delectable pies, don't you think Mr. Tanner?"

The sharpshooter nodded vigorously, still grinning as he shoveled another piece of pie into his mouth.

Chris glared at the gambler. "Damn Ezra I could just..."

"Shoot him?" Tanner quizzed around a mouthful of pie, winking at Ezra who guffawed loudly.

"Aw hell, Tanner just shut up!" Larabee growled, turning his attention to Standish. "And you too or I swear... His stomach suddenly growled and his gaze dropped to the last small piece of pie. "Is that peach?"

Before either man could respond, he snatched the pie and dashed for the door. The sound of the now empty pie tin and several pillows hitting the door as it slammed shut behind him mixed with laughter and good natured insults.

Stopping on the balcony, he leaned against the railing, a happy smile coming to his handsome face as he took a bite of the pie, content that things were back to normal.

THE END