Charades

Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven do not belong to me, nor ever will. They are owned by MGM, Mirisch, Trilogy and were developed by John Watson. There is no infringement intended, and no money will be made from this light use.

Notes: this is the fleshed out version of a challenge issued by Jean on her soon to be defunct Magnifiction site. Basically, it had to be titled Charades, be OW, dramatic, and have Ezra finish with the line: "so shines a good deed in a weary world." It also had a strict word limit, but, while I met it for the challenge, this one is a bit longer. For one thing, this one includes the battle scene at the end.

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Chaucer shook his head and Ezra leaned forward absently to scratch the horse's warm neck. Sitting up again in the saddle, he glanced sideways at Josiah as the preacher finished buttoning the black shirt and slipping in the white collar. For some reason, it bothered him to see Josiah doing this, though he wasn't sure why. After all, he'd done it enough times himself, or hired someone to do it, but this was different somehow. He shifted uncomfortably when Josiah caught him watching and his lips stretched in a thin line.

"Thank you," he said, looking away, "for taking part in this little charade of my mother's."

Josiah shrugged, "Glad to do it."

"Really?"

"Sure." Josiah pulled on the black jacket, completing the look. "Right, how's that?"

Ezra smiled, "Perfect. Now, let's get this over with."

Josiah nodded, and, together, the two men returned to the road that would lead them to the town of Black River. It was a dry town, a scourge (at least to Ezra's mind) that was becoming more and more popular in the west. No gambling, no drinking, no guns, and no wanton women. Unfortunately for his mother, she tended to violate every single one of these tenets.

They rode in slowly, Josiah sitting stick straight in the saddle in front while Ezra, dressed in a plain brown jacket and no hat on his head, lagged behind, his head down. The preacher led the way to the sheriff's office, his expression taking on an enforced grimness as he stared down (literally) upon the denizens of Black River.

The sheriff stood up from his chair in front of the office as Josiah approached and set back his shoulders, arrogance seeping from every pore. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders and a thick, blond handlebar moustache reminiscent of Will Bill Hickock. In his hands he held a long Remington rifle, the stock burnished to a dull shine. He set this to the ground as Josiah dismounted in front of him. Ezra remained on his horse.

"Reverend Standish?" the sheriff asked, stepping down off the walk.

"Yes sir. I understand you have my wife in there?"

"Oh, yes Father, indeed we do. A terrible thing, sir. What a cross you must bear."

Josiah's lips twitched slightly, but otherwise he gave no sign of hearing the sheriff's comment. "What exactly have you accused her of, good sir? The telegram to our son," he waved his hand at Ezra, the gambler still hanging his head low, "merely demanded that he and I come quickly."

"Oh, a most horrific exhibition, Father. She has been accused of cheating an honest man out of his hard-earned wages on the stagecoach. As I understand it, your wife suggested a game of," he shuddered slightly, "poker during the ride, and, if that wasn't bad enough, she then proceeded to cheat the men on that coach out of every penny they had. I ask you, Father, a woman doing that! The shame of it! And I can't even describe the outfit she was wearing at the time either, for fear of my own wife's wrath."

Josiah tensed his jaw, "low cut, I take it?"

"Extremely," the sheriff burned a beet red, an ugly color on his burnt and chapped face. "And in the carpetbag she carried....Oh the shame."

"What?"

"Well, she said it was for medicinal purposes, Father, but, well....A woman should never handle liquor, sir. You know they can't be trusted."

Josiah nodded, sighing heavily, his hands gripping themselves into tight fists by his side. "Yes, well, I'm afraid this is not the first time my wife has strayed. I trusted her to have changed her ways, but, clearly a stronger hand will be needed. Believe me, sir, this will be the last time."

The sheriff grinned, his shoulders relaxing, "Oh, that is a good thing to hear, Father. Truth be told, when we first arrested her after she got off the coach, she insisted on paying the fine herself, but Black River does not work that way, sir. We aim to rehabilitate those who have lost their way, and, besides, a seemingly unmarried woman with money....Well, that always bodes ill. What could she possibly have that money for, we asked? Then, when she asked to be released into the custody of her son, well, even then we were suspicious. But upon telling us that she was married to a Minister, and that you would be more than willing to vouch for her, well, that changed our minds." He grinned, and reached forward to shake Josiah's hand. "Good luck with her, Father. I am certain under your care that she will be cured of her affliction."

Josiah's lips puckered, and, for a moment, something akin to anger flashed across his eyes, but, just as quickly, he was calm again. Nodding, he gestured for the Sheriff to lead the way into the jail so that Josiah might collect his "wife." In the background, Ezra released a sigh of relief. The sheriff might have thought Josiah's anger was directed at a wayward woman, but Ezra knew perfectly well it had taken all of Josiah's will not to deck the man in front of him.

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After leaving Black River, they stopped in a small clearing so that Josiah could remove his "vestments," the hot black wool itching at his skin. Having moved to change behind a thick row of bushes, he was pulling on his suspenders as he walked back to find Ezra still trying to calm Maude down. She had not stopped ranting since they crested the hill outside of the town, her face red with irritation, telling them exactly what she thought of the people of Black River.

"Of all the ridiculous, insufferable....I can not BELIEVE they did that to me, to a citizen of this country!" She walked over to glare at her rented paint, the smart horse shifting away from her.

"Mother, surely...."

"Oh no, don't you dare take that tone with me, young man. No fault here lies with me. I violated none of their precious laws when I played on that stagecoach, and, if I hadn't gotten off to get a drink of water, I would never even have been arrested. But that snake of a low-life, sore loser of a passenger accused me of cheating the moment I stepped onto the boardwalk. He knew exactly what he was doing. Of all the...I never needed to cheat, Ezra. The idiot had more tells than a scared rabbit! How he has lived this long, I'll never know."

Josiah shook his head, taking a long draw on the canteen on his saddle. Ezra sighed heavily.

"Mother...."

"Do you know what they wanted to do to me? Do you?"

"Well...."

"Put me in a sanitarium!"

The water Josiah had been drinking spewed out from his mouth like a shot, and he started to cough. The action was so sudden and severe, it finally interrupted Maude's ranting. Looking across at him with doe like eyes, she asked if he was all right. The preacher nodded sharply, turning his face away. Maude frowned.

"By the way, Mr. Sanchez, I have neglected to thank you for your aid in this rather elaborate charade. I realize that this is not your normal line of work, but I was getting somewhat desperate. I am glad that my son was able to convince you of my sincerity on this matter."

Josiah waved a hand as if to say no need, and walked back out of the clearing. Maude sent a questioning look at her son. Ezra shrugged.

"Well," Maude sighed, wiping a hand across her face and shifting to sit down on a nearby rock, "Where was I?"

"Sanitarium."

"Yes," she nodded, "Yes! Those damned idiots! While I was waiting for you, another man was arrested for gambling and cheating, much as I. What did he get? A ten dollar fine and two days in jail. Oh, but because I was a woman, I was special. No mere fine, nor jail time would be enough. I had to be curbed of the evil inside me, they said. Unless I could give them someone who might be able to care for me, they were going to put me in some awful hospital for the insane." She sighed, burying her head in her lap. "Do you see, Ezra? Do you see why I needed you?"

Her son bent down and placed a gentle hand on her back, "Of course, mother. Though, I must admit, that telegram did throw me for a time. Sending it to me and Reverend Josiah Standish, good lord." He laughed lightly, "You're just lucky Josiah agreed to it."

She looked up, and smiled slightly, "Well of course he did, baby boy. I never doubted him for a minute." Her top lip curled slightly, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him. Ezra ducked his head, more than aware of the dig she had just served him. She smiled, "So, tell me, baby boy, why did you decide to come and help me? Besides your obvious filial devotion, of course."

Ezra shrugged, "Curiosity...and I was hoping you might be grateful."

She nodded, understanding perfectly, "And how grateful might I be?"

He shrugged, "A couple of hundred, maybe? That would be enough to allow me to buy back a certain saloon."

She pursed her lips, a small smile creasing her face as she looked down to smooth the creases from her skirts. "I might be persuaded," she said, her expression darkening, "if you do one more little thing for me." When she looked up at him again, her eyes had taken on the quality of steel. "I need you to go back to Black River."

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Josiah wandered over to the thin stream he'd found and bent down to refill the canteen, his hands shaking at he unscrewed the cap. His head throbbed and his mind buzzed with what he'd overheard. From the minute he'd heard that Sheriff speak, his mind just kept swimming back to his father and sister, but Maude's description of what might have been her fate sent him over the edge. The words and tone were similar, the motives identical. Cure her of her affliction. Crosses we must bear. Sanitarium. His jaw tensed so tightly, the veins in his neck stood out like iron rods. He wouldn't let them get away with it. He couldn't.

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"Josiah. We have another problem. My mother...," Ezra began, stepping forward as Josiah returned. He never got any further.

"Do you know where the sanitarium is?" the preacher demanded, shoving past Ezra to get to Maude. She frowned in puzzlement.

"What?"

"The sanitarium. Did they tell you where they were going to send you?"

Her brow knitted as she took in his rapid breathing, "Yes," she said carefully, "outside of town, south. Within the town's purview. But why...?"

Josiah turned away, and Ezra swallowed harshly as those intense blue eyes bored into him.

"We're going to execute a jailbreak, Ezra. We're going to get those women out of there."

Ezra gave a short laugh, one that faded instantly when he realized that his friend was serious. "Josiah, no. We can't. It's a hospital, not...."

"Its a jail, Ezra, as surely as the one in Fort Laramie. How many women do you think that ludicrous sheriff has sent there, huh? We have to get them out of that place before it really does drive them mad."

"Now, Josiah, hold on. First of all, we know nothing about this place. For all we know, they simply put up with the sheriff's whims then send the women home. The women who stay might truly need help."

The preacher shook his head violently, "And just as possibly, Ezra, they could lock every woman up who dares to wear a low-cut dress or have a drink on a cold night. No, we're going to find that sanitarium and see for ourselves. And if I see anything, ANYTHING, that doesn't sit right, we're going to get those women out of there."

Ezra blinked, unsure of what to say in the face of such conviction. Maude, however, was not so restrained.

"Well I'm sorry, Josiah, but I'm afraid that is going to have to wait. Right now, my son is required elsewhere." She stood up haughtily, not the least bit concerned at the sharp look Josiah gave her. "When that sheriff rooted through my things with his grubby hands, he confiscated certain things of mine, including a flask of perfectly aged brandy, my pistol, and three hundred dollars in cash. I plan to get it all back." Josiah's expression moved from angry to dumbfounded.

"A flask? A pistol? Money? Maude, I am talking about lives here! You might have been one of the women in that place."

Maude rolled her eyes, "Josiah, I am certain that, if they have been there this long, they can wait another day while Ezra retrieves my things. Who knows what that thief of a sheriff might be doing with them right now."

"Who knows what they might be doing to the women in that so called hospital right now!" Shaking his head, Josiah stalked towards Quincy, roughly pulling on the horse's reins to bring his head up. "Ezra, let's go."

Maude spluttered, "How dare you! Ezra, don't you move a muscle. You are going to get my money back!"

The gambler hesitated, looking at her, then back at Josiah. The preacher was staring hard at him.

"Let's go, Ezra. Now."

"Josiah, let's just think a minute here...," but, again, Ezra was interrupted.

"Excuse me, but Ezra is my son, Josiah, not yours. Ezra, I demand you go back to that horrible town and get my things. And, if you could set that sheriff's office on fire at the same time, I would be most appreciative."

"I need him, Maude! I can't engineer breaking into a sanitarium on my own!"

"And I certainly can't get my money back without him! You think I can set foot in that town now?"

Josiah gritted his teeth, "Maude, listen to me. This is more important than money."

"Oh, no wonder you have softened, Ezra. Let me tell you this, Mr. Sanchez: nothing is more important than money when you are a woman on your own. Money is survival, otherwise I would probably have died long ago. Where do you think Ezra would have been then, huh?"

"Mother...."

Josiah shook his head, "We are leaving, Maude. If you wish to go back and get your money, you are free to do so, but Ezra and I are not going to help. We have done more than enough for you already. Ezra, get Chaucer."

"Josiah, please...." Ezra raised a hand to cover his eyes.

"Oh really? This is how you pay me back for everything I did for you growing up, Ezra? You leave me alone and destitute in the middle of the woods? How could you?"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Ezra yelled so loudly, the leaves shook, and even Chaucer backed up a few steps. "The both of you, SHUT UP. Mother, I happen to know that you have more than a thousand dollars hidden inside that carpet bag, so you are certainly not destitute. I am, however, not going to leave you alone in these woods. But, that does not mean I am going to go back to Black River. First, we are all going to go find the sanitarium and, as per Josiah's request, check it out. But, before you start smiling preacher, if, upon cursory inspection, I find nothing untoward about that hospital, I am leaving. Understand? No "jailbreak," no "saving" of women who don't need saving, no superfluous good deeds. Then, Mother, and only then, might I consider going to Black River to get your things back."

Maude's mouth gaped, "But son, what if the Black River sheriff has...."

"Then we'll have the judge arrest him for corruption, Mother. But that's it." Stalking across to Chaucer, the gambler pulled out the black riverboat hat he'd had tucked in his bags and slammed it on his head. "Shall we go?"

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"That's a hospital?" Ezra asked, unable to hide his dismay. Next to him, Josiah nodded.

"That's what the sign says," he replied sullenly.

It was a pit. It was the sort of place you smelled before you saw it, sitting in a dank valley without a running stream or even much light. Three smaller buildings clustered around a larger one, all deep in shadow despite the fact that it was almost noon, and barbed wire surrounded the whole complex. They could make out three guards patrolling the wire.

"My God," Ezra had his kerchief out and placed against his nose, while Chaucer kept his own nose well to the ground. Josiah swallowed harshly, myriads of memories and emotions crawling over his face. Maude kept her eyes averted, staring rather wistfully back the way they came.

"Well Ezra?" the preacher asked.

"A horrible place," came the reply.

"Then you'll help me...."

"I never said that, Josiah. We still have know idea what is in there. And, before you argue, let me ask you this. Suppose we did break the women out of there, what would we do with them? Some of those women have been placed there by there families, how would they find them if we took them?"

"If you ask me, I doubt the type of families that would put women in that place would care," came the curt answer.

"Be that as it may," Ezra continued, "that doesn't answer the question of where we would take them. We obviously can not take them back to Four Corners. Just imagine how Mrs. Travis would react, not to mention the rest of the town. And we can't afford to leave them with the sisters in Vista City, even if they had room."

"Vista City?" Maude glanced at Josiah curiously, but it was clear neither man was about to explain that one.

"What do you suggest?" the preacher asked darkly.

"That we leave this to the government. It is, after all, their responsibility."

"You can't mean the sheriff...."

"Of course not. I was thinking of the judge. We'll inform him of the condition of this place, and let him deal with it. "

Josiah watched him for a moment, lips pursed. "Is this a way to avoid getting your hands dirty, Ezra?"

A small smile creased the gambler's face, "Perhaps, old friend. But you can not deny the logic."

Just then, a woman's scream pierced the air, causing all three horses to shift nervously. It lasted for a good long minute before being abruptly cut off. Josiah's face darkened.

"We'll bring in the judge AFTER we get those women out of there, Ezra."

The gambler's face had tensed, the scream chilling him as much as his friend. Slowly, he nodded.

"Well, that sounds like a fine plan, gentlemen, but may I point out a few minor flaws?" Maude edged her paint forward to get between the men. Ezra sighed heavily while Josiah frowned. "At this moment," Maude said, staring down at the sanitarium, "you know nothing of the layout, the number of guards, or the type of patients they have. Some may be innocent, some may be homicidal. May I suggest a little reconnaissance first? And since neither of you could possibly pass as a woman with those square jaws and broad shoulders," she paused when Josiah let out a tiny snort. "Is something funny Mr. Sanchez?"

"No, no, go on."

"Ezra," Maude looked at her son, who was facing away from her, "is there....No, never mind. I am sure I do not wish to know. The point is, gentlemen, you need my help. A small charade whereby you introduce me as mentally ill, then, when you come to visit me this evening to see if I'm settled, I tell you what I've found. I will do this for you...for a modest fee, of course."

"Of course," Ezra repeated.

"Three hundred dollars."

Josiah sighed, looking at Ezra. In response, Ezra closed his eyes and dropped his head, knowing full well the preacher only had four dollars to his name. Josiah smiled.

"Consider it my fee for helping your mother in her little charade," the preacher whispered, slapping him on the back.

"Why do I never win?" the gambler quietly asked the sky above.

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"Well?" Josiah waited with the horses as Ezra returned from seeing his mother, the evening sky purpling over their heads like a bruise. She'd only been inside a few hours, but her expression upon seeing Ezra again had spoken volumes. They were not allowed a private conversation, and, despite having some sort of threat at her back, (indicated by Maude to Ezra by a few subtle movements they developed years ago), she had still somehow managed to tell him the truth inside a whole pack of lies about the nice people and clean quarters. Ezra patted her hand, middle finger pressing deeply for a moment on the back. Watch for them at midnight. She had smiled, not hiding the thankfulness in the look.

"Half the women in the sanitarium are mental patients," Ezra said, "and most of these are kept in a muddy shed in the rear. The rest -- kept in the big building, a sort of dormitory -- are as you suspected. Call girls, dancing girls, fortune tellers, gamblers like my mother, and even a business woman or two that made the mistake of looking to purchase land in Black River. The sheriff brought them all here, handing all their possessions and money over to the two keepers."

"Two keepers?"

"My mother's word – her way of saying this is a zoo, not a hospital. It's run by a brother and sister, name of Lyman. He's supposedly a doctor, and she his nurse. They run this place. There are also six guards, three on at a time. I had a look at them. They're the usual bastards – ugly, mean and bigger than barges. And as for the condition of the women...well, the fact that my mother was whiter than normal told me a few things. It takes a lot to shake her."

Josiah nodded grimly, then knelt down to draw a quick rectangle in the dirt. "I've been watching the guards routine," he told his friend. He placed a stick in the center of the rectangle to act as the dormitory, then three rocks to demonstrate the guardhouse, the "muddy" shed, and the small cabin/office of the keepers. "One guard watches the front at all times, moving back and forth. The other two roam in a pattern along the other three sides, passing each other somewhere in the back near the shed. Usually, they take their passing as an opportunity to stop and talk."

"So, two birds with one stone, if we time it right."

"Is your mother going to do anything?"

"I told her we'd come at midnight. She'll anticipate us by picking the lock on the door, and maybe even roaming around a bit. My guess is, she'll go check out the office in the melee, see if there's a safe."

Josiah arched an eyebrow, "And if there is a safe?"

Ezra just smiled wryly, all dimples, not looking up from his study of the map. Josiah nodded.

"Ah. I see. Best I head there after I take out the two guards to check up on her, and deal with the Lymans."

"You're taking out the two guards?"

"Yup. My idea is that I take the two guards at the back, then get myself to the office before your mother gets herself shot by that brother and sister."

"So that means I..."

"Take out the guard in front, then the three in the guardhouse. That's only fair, wouldn't you say? I take four, you take four."

Ezra looked up at Josiah through his eyebrows, not hiding the disgust on his face. "One of your "four" is a woman, preacher, and the doctor is scrawnier than Mrs. Potter's boy." Josiah just offered him the same smile he had given earlier about his mother. Ezra grimaced. "If I die, preacher, I'm blaming you." Josiah's smile widened into a grin.

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Ezra crawled forward in the long, wet grass surrounding the complex, moving only when he was sure the guard wasn't looking his way. The man looked surprisingly alert though the gambler noticed he spent more time watching the door of the dormitory than anywhere else. Attempted escapes were probably not uncommon.

He had just reached the barbed wire fence when the door of the dormitory suddenly opened, bright yellow light spilling out into the black and blue atmosphere of the night. Tensing his jaw, he hunkered down, praying his mother hadn't made her move too early.

Instead, a scream split the air, almost giving him a heart attack. A struggling dark-skinned woman, not his mother, was pulled out of the dormitory by one of the other guards, someone Ezra had thought asleep in the small guardhouse. The guard saluted the man patrolling the front fence before dragging the hapless girl around with him towards the guardhouse, obviously against her will. At the guardhouse door, the other two greeted him with laughter and a slap on the back.

Ezra had both his guns in hand before he even realized what he was doing. The guard still patrolling the front relocked the dormitory door and walked back to the fence. Every slow footfall jazzed the southerner more, his heart thudding in his chest as he willed the man to move faster.

The screams from the guardhouse became abruptly muffled.

He shut his eyes, counting to five, then opened them again.

The guard was almost on top of him.

Come on, you bastard!

Still agonizingly slowly, the guard finally reached his hiding place and walked past. Ezra instantly jumped out of the brush and over the fence, and, before the guard could even let out a yell, slammed the but of his Remington across the man's temple. The guard went down like a lump. Not bothering to check how well he did his job, the gambler sprinted for the guardhouse at a dead run. He didn't even stop as he reached the door, just turned sideways slightly so that his shoulder would take the brunt of the impact.

The door crashed under his weight like plywood.

The three guards, two with their pants down and one holding down the struggling and now gagged girl on the bed, fell back in surprise. The one holding down the girl went for his gun as the other two stumbled, the pants around their ankles preventing them from quick movement, but Ezra was already up and shooting.

On the bed, the girl shifted to the side of the small cot, cowering into a ball.

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Maude heard the sound of scuffling outside, and risked opening the door of the dormitory. She had unlocked it just seconds after the guard had locked it again. The night sky twinkled above her head, the moon barely a sliver in the distance. With a proud smile, she just caught sight of Ezra sprinting away from the guard he'd knocked out, running full out in the direction of the guardhouse. Still smiling, she nodded to the other women in the dormitory and sneaked out of the long building.

She'd barely gone ten feet before gunfire split the night, and she looked fearfully back towards the area she'd seen Ezra go. Swallowing she told herself she trusted him to take care of himself and knelt down beside a large barrel in the courtyard as the door to the office was flung open. Making herself as small as possible, she watched as both brother and sister ran past to find out what was happening.

Then she dashed across to the office's open door and slipped inside.

The sister stopped when she saw that the dormitory door was ajar, while her brother continued to run to the guardhouse. Looking around, she saw the prone guard...and, from the direction they'd just come, a woman's figure slipping in the office door. Cocking the rifle she held, she strode purposefully back to the office.

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Josiah looked up at the gunfire and swore. He'd managed to fell both his guards without trouble, why the hell couldn't Ezra have done the same? He finished tying the knots around the second guard's wrists, then jogged quickly past the side of the shed and up the edge of the dormitory. He was about to head for the guardhouse when he saw the unmistakable form of Maude Standish dashing across to the main office. He would have ignored it but for one thing.

He was running flat out by the time he saw the sister reach the door and kick it in, her rifle raised.

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The three guards in the guardhouse never stood a chance. The one that had almost reached his gun was dead, and the other two whimpered and gripped at bleeding legs and arms.

Still high with adrenalin, the crack of a twig spun Ezra around, giving him just enough time to duck out of the way before being shot by the brother's rifle. Diving to his right, he brought up the colt in one fluid move and fired until the gun was empty. He landed hard on his right elbow, but at least he was still alive. In front of him, the brother dropped his rifle as he slid bonelessly to the ground outside the guardhouse door, dead.

His hands still shaking, Ezra stood and put the empty colt away, then turned to check on the girl. She was peeking out at him over the knees she'd drawn to her chest. As he turned his face to hers, her eyes widened in recognition and she pulled out the gag in her mouth.

"Ezra?" she said, releasing her tight hold on her legs. Black, curly hair sat frazzled on top of the woman's head, and her clothes were in tatters, but he knew her instantly. She was one of the former members of Wickestown -- one of the women he'd tried to instruct so that they might make profitable marriages after they'd escaped with Lydia. The Remington in his right hand fell to his side in surprise.

"My God, Melanie."

Her face broke out in a smile, then her eyes shifted behind him with horror and she screamed again.

He heard the shot only a hairsbreadth of a second before his right shoulder exploded.

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"Brazen hussy!" the sister screamed, raising the rifle to the figure she saw kneeling before the safe. "Get away from there!"

Balanced precariously, one ear to the safe door, the bang of the door and the scream of the sister was more than enough to send Maude onto her butt. Backing up sideways, her legs tangled in her mess of skirts, Maude waved a hand in front of her as the sister stormed into the small room.

"No, wait! Wait! I can explain!"

"Explain? You're stealing from me! What possible explanation could there be other than you're a no-good thief!"

Maude's mouth opened and closed a few times, until, finally, she smiled. "You're right," she said weakly, "There isn't one."

The sister's face broke into a confused frown, then turned into surprise as she felt Josiah's rifle in her back.

In moments, Maude was up on her feet, the sister's rifle in her hands and covering the hospital's "nurse." The sister sat down hard on the floor, staring up at them with pure hatred.

In the background, they both heard the sound of a single pistol emptying itself, and Josiah smiled at the silence that followed. Maude sent him questioning look.

"That was Ezra's colt that emptied. I recognize its sound. Looks like we've...."

Melanie's scream cut through the air like a knife, just seconds before another gun blast seemed to rock the small complex.

"Cover her!" Josiah yelled, running out the door while the echoes of the gunshot and screams still rang in their ears, leaving Maude with her mouth falling open in terror for her son. On the ground, the sister shifted as if she was thinking of running for it, bringing Maude back to the present. She quickly brought the rifle to bear.

"Don't even think about it," she hissed, trying to calm her trembling hands. "Because if anything happens to my boy, I wouldn't gamble on my keeping my finger from pulling this trigger."

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Pain screamed down Ezra's right arm as he fell forward to his knees, his now useless fingers dropping the Remington to the floor beside him. On the bed, Melanie continued to scream as the guard Ezra had conked out earlier staggered into the room, nearly tripping over the brother's body in the doorway. The guard shot twice more, but the aim was poor, and, as Ezra twisted around to see him, he saw why. Blood streamed down the side of the guard's face, and he was blinking rapidly as if he were having trouble seeing. The gun in his hands shook, but, upon seeing Ezra looking back at him from the floor, he focused its barrel on the battered gambler.

Ezra scrambled for his Remington with his left hand, but he knew he would never reach it in time. He stopped as he caught the ghoulish guard smiling down at him, pistol pointed right at his head.

"Ezra!"

The guard turned dizzily at Josiah's yell, his befuddled brain trying to make out the shape of the large man running towards the guardhouse in the dark. Behind him, Ezra grabbed again for the Remington, this time capturing it. As the guard turned back, the gambler shot him three times in the chest, emptying the pistol.

Josiah reached the door just in time to see the last guard fall, and a bleeding and tousled Ezra sitting up slowly from where he had fallen, smoking Remington in hand. On the bed, Melanie swallowed her last scream and tried hard to wipe the tears from her eyes. The gambler blew out an exhausted breath and smiled up at Josiah.

"I thought," Ezra said fuzzily, blinking slowly as if he were drunk and looking around at the five men around him – three dead and two semi-conscious, "it was to be four men each, preacher. You appear to have welched on the deal." He held up his left hand for Josiah to grab.

Still panting from the run, Josiah couldn't resist a small smile as he stepped inside to help the gambler to his feet. "I was delayed, son. It was your mother's fault."

Ezra smiled, leaning heavily on Josiah's arm and wincing slightly with pain, "It always is, my friend, it always is."

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"Ezra!" Maude bustled forward as Josiah half-pulled, half carried Ezra into the office. Her lips had gone white at seeing all the blood on his right sleeve, and all the dust and bits of wood stuck to his clothes and hair. "Are you...you...you...you've ruined your jacket." Swallowing, bright blue eyes regarded her son fearfully. He smiled back, oddly happy at her concern.

"It's all right, mother," he said softly. "I didn't much like this jacket anyway. Besides, it's, uh, it's repairable."

"Bullet went straight through," Josiah explained, though Maude barely heard him.

"Oh, good, good," she nodded, some of the fear leaving her face as she smiled back at Ezra. Turning, she stared daggers at Josiah for a moment, clearly blaming him for the harm to her son, before walking back to where she'd tied up the sister. Miss Lyman cowered slightly to the side as Maude passed by, not hiding the fear on her face. Josiah arched both eyebrows, impressed, as he watched Maude kneel down in front of the now open safe.

"There is almost three thousand dollars in here," she said matter-of-factly. "Miss Lyman here has informed me that it is made up of the government and private money that was supposed to go to upkeep of this place, as well as money stolen from the women. I suggest we return what we can to the women in the dormitory, then, I suppose, give the rest back to the government to use to rebuild this place into a proper hospital."

This time it was Ezra who arched his eyebrows in surprise. Never in his life had he heard his mother voluntarily suggest giving away money. Josiah merely grinned.

"I'll head into the next town in the morning to telegraph Four Corners and the judge," the preacher said, "and get a wagon to transport some of these women out of here. Then, Maude, we'll head back over to Black River to get that sheriff and your things." Maude looked back at him in surprise, and smiled. Now that she was sure Ezra was going to be all right, her look had softened and the smile deepened as she looked at the preacher. Josiah continued to smile back, and Ezra groaned softly.

"Meanwhile," the gambler interrupted curtly, sitting up in his chair, "think you could clean this thing for me?" He looked at his shoulder, then at Josiah. Laughing softly, the preacher went off to find some water and bandages.

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By the next morning, with the help of those women healthy enough to work, they'd cleaned up the main dormitory for the ill and hurt, and Josiah had ridden into the next town to telegraph Four Corners and the judge. The sister and four guards were locked in the muddy shed, while the other three were buried out back.

Josiah returned with a wagon and some supplies around noon, then settled back with Ezra to watch Maude as she supervised the unloading. A silly smile graced his face as he watched her, and the gambler had to try hard not to grimace.

Finally, Maude wandered over, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear.

"Gentlemen, I assume we will be heading back to Black River soon? To get the rest of my things? Oh, and, Ezra darling, you need not pay me the money you owe me now. I'll take it on credit."

Ezra buried his head in his good hand while Josiah smiled up at her angelic face. She smiled back and wandered away.

"She did a good thing here," Josiah said, a tad too wistfully for Ezra's liking.

"You ever try marrying her for real, preacher, and I will shoot you."

Josiah laughed, "Well, she's not the only one who did a good thing." He watched as several of the women stepped up into the wagon to begin their journeys home. Melanie waved at Ezra and blew a kiss. He blushed.

"Well," he said softly, thinking about what the girl would do now, "So shines a good deed in a weary world."

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End

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