"I hate it when the weather's like this,"
complained Monica, as she slowly drew lazy circles across a naked, well-muscled
chest. Her platinum blond hair brushed his skin tantalizingly with
its long curly tresses. The image of Lady Godiva scampered through
his mind, but he didn't bother to mention to his companion because he seriously
doubted if she would even understand the reference. He was sure when
his tastes in women had changed. He didn't usually fall for the dumb blond
type. But he didn't used to be interested by blondes. Well,
until that fateful night with a beautiful blond widow. That evening
together was burned in his memory as clearly as the brands cattlemen used
to mark their stock. Whatever attraction, no, just sheer lust he
felt for the woman laying beside him in bed had dwindled to nothingness
when his memories flooded back. He rose from the bed, his lithe form
moving with a feline grace as he crossed the hotel room to dress in the
disgarded clothes from last night.
"Ezra, honey? Is there somethin'
the matter?," purred Monica as she watched the handsome Southerner shrug
into a white linen shirt. He gave her a disparaging look, his emerald
eyes dulled with ennui and irritation. She remembered with alacrity
the actions of last night. Those same eyes had glittered with desire,
his love-making the best she had ever experienced. He returned his
gaze back to the window and watched as the driving rain pelted the window.
He contemplated the dreariness as he reminisced that miserable day when
he rode out of Four Corners, never to return.
"Ezra, I said no. I don't want
to marry. I'm not ready," protested Mary Travis vehemently.
Ezra stared back disbelievingly as his dreams were shattered and scattered
all over the floor of The Clarion's office. The angelically
beautiful window cringed inwardly as she saw the dejected expression on
the handsome gambler's face. She had never meant to become involved
with him. But their one night together had been healing for both
of them. She was ready to look forward to life, not backward into
the past. She had to live for herself for a while before she even
contemplate marriage again. She knew in her heart that Ezra was not
ready to settle down into married life yet. Their age difference
bothered her some as well. She was uncomfortable that she was thirty-five
while Ezra had just turned twenty-eight. But when she looked at him,
her heart melted. The ring he held in his hand was absolutely gorgeous
and had cost him a pretty penny.
"But why, Mary?," Ezra asked, hurt
by her blatant rejection of his attentions. "I would make you a good
husband. We have a lot in common and we are good in bed together."
Mary blushed at his forward statement concerning their lovemaking.
"Ezra, I don't love you, that's why.
I don't know what I feel for you and until I can figure that out, I can't
rush into a decision of this magnitude immediately. Please, can't
we go back like the way it was before," she pleaded with him
He regarded her coldly as he swallowed
and steeled himself with what little pride he had left. "I don't
think we can 'go back to the way it was between us' once we've known each
other in the Biblical sense. I wish you all the happiness with your
decision, Mrs. Travis, and I'll be taking my leave now." He
turned and with back stiffly straight, he walked out of the door, the wind
whipping his coat around him. He made his way down to the livery,
saddled his horse and rode out of town in a blinding summer storm.
He promised himself that he would never care for anyone again, it just
hurt too damn much.
Lightning streaking across the sky lit
up the city street of New Orleans like daylight. He never tired of
the old French city, well, until now. He could always make good money
there and lots of women or other things to distract his mind. But
his mind insisted on returning to Four Corners. Damn, he actually
missed that little hole in the wall burg and it had only been six months
since he had lit out of there. His mother would be laughing her ass
off right now if she could the state he was in. She'd say that one
good con was all he'd need to cure this ennui that had settled over his
life like an imperiously dark cloud. Without a word to Monica, who
stared at his departing figure, Ezra left the room and headed for the nearest
saloon to earn some money and drown his memories in a very good vintage
of brandy.
"Gentlemen, the full house takes it,
I believe." Ezra laid down his hand, much to the consternation of
the other players circled around the table. He only permited himself
a slight smile before a scruffy man pushed back his chair abruptly and
stood towering over the table. Ezra regarded his potential threat
laconically, as if the man was a pesky mosquito. Scruffy pulled a
Colt out of the holster on his hip and pointed it at Ezra. But before
the gun had completely cleared the holster, Ezra's derringer had appeared,
as if from slight of hand, from the frilly cuff of his dress shirt.
His cold green eyes glittered challengingly at the other man. Another
one of the players who had lost quite a bit to Ezra as well saw his chance
and went to draw his own weapon, when the click of a hammer being drawn
back sounded in his ear.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you.
Now, drop it," drawled a soft Southern voice, lazily threatening.
The would-be bushwacker dropped his pistol to the floor and backed away.
"Now, that's better." He looked at the other gentleman who was still
stupid enough to try and face Ezra down. "Fella, if you want to walk
out of here, instead of bein' carried, I'd back offa him. He might
play poker, but he don't play when it comes to guns bein' pointed in his
general direction." Scruffy seemed to think this piece of advice
over and put his Colt back in his holster, then backed his way out of the
saloon.
"I would extend my profuse gratitude
for your timely assistance, Mr. Wilmington," commented Ezra calmly from
his seated position. He pushed a chair at the table out with his
booted foot, and Buck sat down, pouring himself a whiskey.
"If that was a thank you, then you're
welcome, Ezra," replied Buck, as he took a long swallow and an even
longer glance at the women on stage. "How ya been doin'?"
"Somehow I don't think you are here
to exchange cordialities. Why don't you get straight to the point?"
"Ezra, we need your help. I know
you don't want to come back and I think I have a good idea why, but Josiah
and Vin got laid up in the last skirmish with some outlaws, so we're running
a little short handed. It would only be for a few weeks," reasoned
Buck.
"How could you possibly presume to comprehend
why I departed Four Corners in the first place?," snapped Ezra irritably.
"Most likely has to do with a beautiful
widow who practically runs the town?"
Ezra attempted to put on his best poker
face, but somehow he got the impression he had failed against his friend.
"How did you know?"
"Well, you lit out pretty fast with
no excuse, right after you went to talk to Mary that day. So I figured
that had something to do with it," said Buck with somewhat of an accusatory
tone. " I can't believe you ran off like that. You really are
a bastard, Ezra."
"Buck, you have every right to get mad
about my abrupt departure. I don't have much of an excuse, except
to say I just couldn't handle it." Buck grew angrier with Ezra's
words. "Who else knows?"
"Just me, I couldn't go and embarrass
Miss Mary like that. Well, it wasn't my idea to ask you back, but
we need ya, so are you coming or not?"
"I guess since you put it so persuasively,
then the answer should be put forth in the affirmative."
"Ezra, why do I always feel that we
don't speak the same language?"
The two men rode into Four Corners a
week later, road-weary and travel-worn. The other men looked at Ezra
curiously as he alit from his horse, their faces full of questions no one
had the courage to ask. They walked into the saloon and sat
down around the rought wooden table. As Ezra looked around, he couldn't
understand why he had ever missed this dingy little place, but it felt
like coming home to him. The men sat there for a while just shooting
the breeze until Ezra rose, making his excuses so he could get some rest.
Nathan stood and commented, "I really need to go and check on Mrs. Travis
anyway."
JD inquired thoughtfully, "How is she
doin', Nathan?"
"About as well as could be expected,
I reckon. She really does appreciate all the help ya'll have given
her over the last few months." Nathan left and shortly following
him, the rest of the men departed. Ezra took Buck by the arm and
motioned for him to stay for a moment.
"What's wrong with Mary, Buck?"
"She's been a little sick recently."
Buck looked at Ezra's stricken face. "Of course, you didn't
have anything to do with that, did you? Ezra, you really hurt her
with your leavin' like that and if you go out there and make it worse,
I swear I will hunt you down personally."
"You don't know anything about it, so
I would appreciate it if you would keep your judgments to yourself," Ezra
shot back.
Later that evening, his mind and heart
waged war against each other. Both trying to decide what he should
do. Should he go and see her or should he leave well enough alone?
Would going out there make it worse for her? He couldn't live with
himself if he ever caused her pain, but he had to know, maybe he could
help, although he didn't know how. He fell asleep, the last thought
to cross his mind was the decision to venture out to the old Travis property
tomorrow morning.
His horse's hoofprints sounded loudly
staccato as he rode down the hard-pack trail that led out to the Travis
homestead. Ezra wondered why Mary had moved so far away from town,
especially if her health was failing. He stopped the horse at the
corral fence and tied him up there. The horse nickered softly, an
encouragement to his unsteady nerves. He slowly made his way to the
front door and knocked tentatively on it. He almost turned around
and ran to his horse, hoping to escape before someone opened the door.
Nathan swung the door wide open before Ezra could change his mind, and
invited him in. "It's good of you to come. Mrs. Travis don't
get too many visitors out here." effused Nathan, innocent of the relationship
between Ezra and Mary. He led Ezra through the house, back to one
of the bedrooms and opened the door. Ezra walked in and Nathan closed
it behind them, leaving the two of them alone.
Ezra was shocked by what he saw.
His startled green eyes met her expressive blue ones. Mary laid there,
propped up on a large number of pillows and crochet work littered the bed.
She looked as radiant as ever and her lithesome, petite body had rounded
out considerably over the last few months. She pulled the covers
defensively around up to her chin as she squirmed uncomfortably under his
scrutiny. She was still so beautiful to him, even in her late pregnancy.
The enormity of the situation flooded through him and it was all he could
do to keep from passing out. He sat down quickly on the edge of the
chair next to her bed. "Why...Why didn't you tell me?,"
he whispered.
"I didn't know until about two weeks
after you left, Ezra. I honestly didn't think you'd want me after
the way I rejected you."
"I wouldn't have left you. I'm
not that much of a bastard."
After a long pause, Mary got right
to the point. "Ezra, why are you here?"
"They said you were sick. I had
to come and check on you before I go back to New Orleans. Well, until
I was planning to go back. This changes things a little."
"Why?"
"Because if you haven't noticed, madame,
you are about to give birth to my child. I'm not about to allow my
child to suffer the stigma of bastardy that I went through."
"Ezra, I still don't want to marry you,"
she replied in an unconvincingly flat voice. Why was she so
scared of marrying him? Here he was, willing to make everything all
right and she couldn't accept it.
"I don't think it's much of a choice
now, Mary."
"It is," she snapped angrily.
"Go back to New Orleans. I can raise the baby just fine without your
assistance."
"Maybe I want to be involved in his
life."
"What if he's a she? How receptive
would you be then?"
"I'd love to have a daughter.
Mary, I love children and I resent the fact that you are trying so hard
to keep me out of my future child's life. That isn't fair to either
of us."
"Well, it's not your decision to make.
And another thing....aaaaah." Mary moaned in pain as a strong contraction
shot through her lower body. The baby was coming early. Ezra
rushed over to the bed and took her hand in his, attempting to offer comfort
that she rebuked irrationally.
"What can I do?"
"Go to hell," she squeezed out as another
wave of pain coursed through her.
"Sorry, that's not going to happen in
the near future. Anything else?"
"Yeah, go get Nathan, then leave me
alone."
Ezra left the room, stung even more
this time by her second rejection of his marriage proposal. He was
trying to do the right thing, so why could she cut him some slack?
He ran out and found Nathan, who was cutting firewood in the back yard.
"Nathan, come quick. I think Mary's going to have the baby."
Nathan sprinted in the house and directed Ezra to boil some water.
Ezra couldn't stand the tense aura that surrounded the house so he sat
out on the porch and waited, hearing her moans and screams inside.
A couple hours later, JD, Buck and Chris
arrived as planned. They were going to do some of the chores around
the homestead to help out, but stopped short when they saw Ezra seated
on the porch. Buck eyed Ezra with derision as Ezra explained what
was happening, but said nothing. Finally as evening settled in, a
distinctly strong wail resounded through the house, alerting the men to
the birth of Mary's child. A few minutes later, Nathan came
out and told them that it was okay to go into see the new mother and baby.
Ezra hesitated for a moment, but at Buck's accusatory glance, joined his
friends inside.
An exhausted Mary lay back on the bed,
smiling at the tiny bundle in her arms. JD's enthusiasm overwhelmed
him and he burst out, "So what is it?" Everyone laughed heartily
at his effusive inquiry.
"A little boy. Isn't he beautiful?"
She smiled as Nathan reached town and took the baby from her arms, in order
to show the men. She sneaked a peek at Ezra's expression as he heard
the news about his new son. The baby opened it's eyes and there they
were, the tell tale sign of his father contribution to his own genetics
- brilliant green eyes stared back, unseeing and unaware of the smiling
men around him. Buck didn't say anything, but he didn't have to.
Chris took one look at the baby and then at Ezra's expression of awe and
surprise. He launched himself suddenly at Ezra, catching the
unprepared gambler offguard with a strong right hook that took both men
crashing to the floor. Mary screamed for them to stop and the
other men scrambled to separate the two.
"Ezra, you're lucky I didn't kill you,"
panted Chris as Nathan and Buck held him back. "What kind of bastard
abandons a woman to have his kid alone?"
"Chris, you don't know anything about
this," Ezra responded.
"It doesn't take a genius to figure
out that you lit outta here right after she told you she was pregnant."
Ezra stood silent, not contradicting
Chris' erroneous accusations in order to deflect any kind of negative judgments
on Mary's part. He refuse to look in her direction, at her searching
asking him the silent question of WHY.
"Chris," Mary whispered, the room falling
silent to hear her strain to talk. "He asked me to marry him, I refused.
That's when he left. Not because of the baby. He didn't know."
"Mary, it's okay. You don't have
to defend him."
"I'm not. It's the truth, Chris.
I want you to keep this a secret for now. Someday I'll explain it
to him. Now, I'm tired and I need to speak to Ezra." The rest
of the men left quietly as Nathan returned her son to her arms.
"Ezra, do you want to hold him?"
Ezra gently picked up the tiny bundle
and cradled him to his chest. His son had the most perfect features.
The emotions that welled up inside Ezra were undescribable.
He looked up from his son's face to meet Mary's eyes. She knew that
she would forever remember their night together every time she saw her
son's emerald gaze. "Mary, I'll abide by whatever you want for him,
but I want him to know that I didn't abandon him. I want you to tell
him that."
Tears streamed down her face, her pride
and her heart unwilling to take that finally leap and agree to spend the
rest of her life with this wonderful man. "I promise, Ezra."
He gave his son a finally loving gaze before returning him to his mother.
As he turned to go, to walk out of their lives forever, Mary implored,
"Ezra, wait!"
"What is it, Mary?"
"Would you name him before you go?"
"Call him Xavier, after his grandfather."
Ezra walked out the door, tears running down his face as he mounted his
horse and rode away.
The End
