DEMONS
Prologue:
Memories
of the Heart
There are places in the heart that
keep memories as firmly as the mind remembers the images of yesterday.
Sometimes in the darkness of the night, when it was still and quiet, he looked
into that secret place where he kept his most treasured memories. In that safe
place, he would reach in and see her as he had seen all the years they had
grown up from childhood into the blossoming people they would some day become.
The anguish that came with knowing it would never be for her was a pain that he
spoke of to no one, not even those he called his dearest friends. No matter how
hard he may try to explain it, they could never truly understand what it was
like for him to lose her the way he had.
She was not a lover or anyone to
whom he could give his heart in a romantic way but she was just as important to
his existence as the air he breathed and when she had died, all that was good
and holy within him disappeared with her. In that one blinding instant of
understanding, he knew that she was too good for the world and to pass out of
its realm into a better place was more merciful than the death she had
deserved. He watched her die, bleeding her life into the green grass, her face
unrecognizable from a thousand abuses and twisted inside knowing he would have
to call the man who did this to her; master.
It was more than he could stand.
They had drilled God into the minds
of all those like him as if the knowledge of a supreme deity in his heart would
lessen the injustice of his existence. If there was a higher power that deemed
that this was right, then a man could be considered cattle merely because of
his skin. He had prayed to their god and begged as any angry young man would
beg when left no other choice, for there to be miracle that would keep her with
him, even for a second longer.
God had remained silent that night
and she who was his sister, Rebecca, slipped from this world to the next. All
Nathan could do when he saw the light die in her eyes was weep that she was
gone from his life and he would never get her back. No matter how far he
searched, no matter how much freedom he craved. She was lost and gone forever.
His grief was well into his soul that had no ending and as he clutched her
lifeless body in his arms, weeping that she was gone while her blood oozed all
over him, the sense was driven from his world was just one brief moment.
He would never know what possessed
him. Whether it was rage, revenge or the plain weariness of being a slave whose
rights equaled to less than an animal for an animal at least, had the choice of
laying with its own kind and not be forced upon by its master. For the first
time in his life, he crossed the steps that took him to the big house where the
master lived. It was like crossing from one world into a completely new one. It
was world of freedom, of excess, of choice and the fulfilment
of any desire. It was as close to heaven as a slave was allowed to imagine.
He had never reached the master but
his defiance cost him nonetheless. He remembered the laughter as they took him
away, the marks the rope made on his throat as they dragged him out of the house
like a fatted calf being led to the slaughter but he should have known better.
Death was too good for a slave. They strung him up with that same piece of rope
and he remembered the torches burning around him as the laughter ceased and the
others of his kind stared in sorrow and acceptance that this was the way thing
had to be. He had lost a mother who had been brutalized by the way things had
to be. Her one act of defiance had seen his father taken away and sold. He and
Rachel had somehow remained together and the bond of family was all that had
kept him from going insane.
When she was taken from him, the
first sting of the whip hardly registered. Its pain was inconsequential to the
great chasm that had opened up in his soul because she was no more. The second
one brought tears to his eyes but not because of the pain. It was because she
was his sister and while she lived she given him reason to hope, reason to
believe that something good was allowed to exist in his bleak world. The third
lash made him grind his teeth in rage and strengthen him in ways the master
could not have anticipated because he had to be strong now, for she had always
been that for him. No matter how much he despaired and lamented his outcast
fate, she would take her hand in his and smile ever so brightly and tell him
that they were outcast together and thus not outcast at all because outcasts
were always alone.
He did not scream but he cried for
her through the agony of his flesh being literally torn from his back. None of
it registered and he drew some satisfaction in knowing that his failure to beg
for mercy had given his master no pleasure in the whipping. They cut him down
and let the others deal with him and still Nathan could think of nothing else
but Rebecca being gone. The woman who tended him had cleaned his wounds,
soothed the great rips in his back and whispered gently in his ears that he was
strong and he would survive.
Nathan knew he was going to survive
for the despair within him had evolved into something else while he lay there
on the thin sheet of bedding that passed for his sleeping place in the slave
quarters. It transformed into a fierce determination to live as no one's
creature and should he die in the pursuit of that dream, then so be it for it
was better to die like a man then live as slave. He was allowed some measure of
respite by being allowed to recover from his injuries after his punishment. He
recalled with disgust hearing the others tell him how lucky that he was to be
alive.
Master could had you killed.
No, he could not. For Nathan had
come to understand that too when he was hanging like a slab of meat. To be dead
was to escape the cruel torture of servitude and the master did not want that
at all because to die was to be free and slaves were not meant to know freedom.
It was only allowed when they were too weak and feeble to understand its
significance. Nathan waited no more than a day to escape knowing that they
would not believe him strong enough to move let alone make such a foolhardy
quest. However, he was seventeen years old and he had more bravery than he had
brains. Relying on his mind would come later for now, he had known only one
thing.
He was not going to reach eighteen
and still have to call someone master.
No Sir, he was done being anyone's
property and if death was awaited him at the end of the road, Nathan could
accept that. For the god they would have him believe in so mindlessly had no
rules to keep him out of Heaven for being killed in search of freedom. His
escape was hardly planned and certainly clumsy but it got him off the
plantation and he kept to the woods. Each step forward away from the den of his
misery was an agony he had to fight to control as he struggled through the
dense forest, his back a mess of raw flesh open and bleeding.
Eventually the scent of blood
brought the dogs but Nathan kept running. He kept running because he had
nothing to lose and that gave him a valuable edge that kept the slave hunters
one step behind. There were moments when the exhaustion and the delirium of
exquisite pain drove all sense from him and all was left in place of reason was
the compulsion to keep moving. His legs forced the rest of him forward when
there was no will left anywhere else. He ran through rivers, over rocky terrain
so sharp and jagged that his bare feet were cut to ribbons since slaves without
shoes could not run very far and thus not escape. He did not care and so he
kept going, moving on sheer will alone when exhaustion threaten to break him
more completely than any master's whip was capable of doing so.
He had no idea where he was when the
exhaustion finally claimed him, knowing only that he was done and he had run as
far as he was going to go. He could almost accept what would happen to him when
they found him. Nathan had surely expected to die. He knew he wanted to.
Rebecca's memory had driven this far but with his mind descending into the
chaos wrought by his fevered mind, he could no longer remember her and so he
was defeated at last.
When Nathan opened his eyes, he
found that he was alive and in the back of a strange wagon. Above him, the
stars twinkled pleasantly with promises of evening calm and twilight peace. The
man who sat by the campfire and had apparently spent five days ridding him of
the fever that would have otherwise killed him, was a preacher. His eyes were
older than the wind but Nathan could only see that he was a white man. Even
with the rosary he was praying when Nathan came to, it was all the young man
could see. Colour. In later years, Nathan would feel the
intense shame to know that he had treated the man with no more respect than his
master had judged him less than human.
"You gonna
turn me in?" Was Nathan's first word to the preacher he would come to know
as Josiah Sanchez.
Josiah looked at him with those
soulful eyes and shook his head. "Not unless you want me to."
"I ain't
gonna go back." He said defiantly, challenging
the man to defy him even though he could barely stand despite the banishment of
the fever.
"You don't have to." Josiah
shook his head. "You ain't in the south no more.
We crossed the border into
It was too much to take in. He was
aware that he had crossed over into Kentucky because he had stolen eggs from a
farmhouse and heard enough conversation from the people who lived to know that
he was no longer in Georgia. However, the fugitive existence he had been living
had finally taken its toll upon him not long after and he knew no more after
that.
"Is that North?" He asked,
not daring to believe it.
Josiah had nodded. "As north as
you can get."
"Then I'm free." He stated
firmly as if saying it out loud would make it real.
Josiah finally smiled then. "I
reckon you are."
"Why'd you help me?"
Nathan looked at him suspiciously. "You could have turned me in and got a
reward. My Master would have paid you."
"I could have." Josiah
agreed. "But its one thing preaching something and another thing believing
it and I don't believe it was right to send you back. Not even for 30 pieces of
silver."
Nathan did not understand. He did
not understand why a white man would help him and further more; he did not
understand what 30 pieces of silver had to do with anything.
"You got kin here?" Nathan
asked, suddenly curious about the man who would risk so much for a runaway
slave.
"No," The preacher said
lighting his pipe. "Never been here before so I thought take a look.
Besides, there's a war coming."
"A war?" Nathan's brow
furrowed trying to understand. He was always trying to understand and Josiah
was the first person to not tell him that understanding was not required merely
obedience. "What kind of war?"
"A holy war." Josiah
answered. "A war of dreams and ideas, old ways and new progress, a war
about slaves and slave owners."
Nathan begged Josiah to tell him
more and for the next three months that he remained with the preacher, he
learnt to read and write and he discovered that not all men wearing white skin
were evil and not all men wearing black were good. It was an eye opening
experience and he learnt a great deal from the preacher who apparently had a
little difficulty keeping his temper. Josiah told him stories about people and
places further away from the world he had known and had been trapped for so
many years. He discovered he had a good mind for learning.
When the war that Josiah spoke about
finally came, Nathan and Josiah split company because the preacher understood that
they had different paths to walk and it was time Nathan found his place in the
world.
He turned eighteen years old and
enlisted in the Union Army.
And he didn't have call anyone
Master.
Part
One:
Parenthood
It was supposed to be a simple job
for Mary Travis.
At least it was when she first set
her mind to do it. The trunk had been gathering dust for sometime now and she
had been telling herself repeatedly that it could not be left a day longer
every time she made her bed and noticed it.
With Chris out at the saloon with
the rest of the seven and she had a few hours to herself, Mary decided she
would finally make good on the decision to sort through the contents,
discarding what was refuse and doing something definitive as the rest. She had
slipped into her work clothes and produced the nice new box covered in rose
patterned paper where she would keep the more precious items that she came
across.
As she pulled the lid open on the
heavy trunk and felt the dust drift into the air, having been shaken loose
after experiencing the dormant existence beneath her bed, she wrinkled her nose
at the intrusion of particles and coughed slightly when some of them entered
her lungs. She realized then just how long the trunk had been hiding where she
had secreted it. It had not been a matter of months but of years, three to be
exact. If one required a specific date, it would have to be approximately two
months after Steven had died.
Even now, the pain was fresh and
sharp when she thought about her husband. She loved Chris Larabee
and would die if he were ever taken from her but they had come to each other
jaded and worn and somehow found something beautiful in their mutual despair.
With Steven, it had been so different. As Mary started shifting through the
things she had hidden away because the memories were too painful to endure, she
had not even noticed when the first tears started running down her pink cheeks.
She saw pictures of them both, not as they were when they were straight laced
and respectable but of a time even more distant in the past.
She remembered cool nights when
Steven would tap on the glass of her bedroom window. He was seventeen years and
she was fifteen. If her father knew that he was out there, poor Steven would
not have made it to eighteen but Mary never cared. She would slip on her dress
and they would bolt across the lawn and escape into the darkness, caring for
nothing except that they were together.
They never behaved anything less
than respectable but Steven had always wanted to show her the world, even if it
was just their corner of it.
Their favourite
place was a creek not too far from his house and they would sit by the bank,
watching fireflies do their luminescent dance to the song of croaking frogs.
With the stars above them, keeping watch over them, they would sit and talk of
the places they would go and whisper dreams that would carry them away forever.
When she went back to that same creek after he died, she saw nothing but a fly
infested bog, full of mosquitoes and crawling things. She stood by the bank
watching its decay with confusion at where the beauty had disappeared until she
realized it was Steven being with her that had made it beautiful.
She never went back there again.
As she studied the pictures of them
together, of happy smiles and possibility etched in their eyes, Mary started
crying softly without even being aware that she was weeping. Her fingers ran
gently across the faded photograph, trying to remember what his skin felt like
under her fingertips and felt fresh tears when the faded visage before her was
unable to answer. Steven made her understand how precious life was, how each
moment should never be squandered but enjoyed like the final sip in cool drink
of lemonade. He had taught her to watch the sunset, to revel in the colours that dragged the curtain of night in the sun's
gradual departure.
She used to watch it after he was
gone and like the creek, realized that him by her side that made it beautiful. She
stopped sitting on the back porch when he was gone and after awhile forgot all
together why she did not do so any more, the further away he faded into the
past. Mary did not remember again until the first time Chris had sat there with
her and she had gazed into the dusk falling around them that she realized that
the beauty had come back. Perhaps, it was at that moment, she knew that Steven
was gone and Chris was the future.
She wiped her tears when her cheeks
became too wet and continued shifting through the photographs, finding the
corsage, now withered and brittle, that he had bought her on their first time
to a real dance before finally arriving at the pictures of him and Billy. Mary
stared at those images of Steven and her Billy, no more than two years then;
smiling into the camera and waving for her because she had gone to Eagle
Mary wept, feeling the loss at this
moment more profoundly than when he had died. She could not understand why she
was crying because she had come to terms with his being gone a long time ago.
She had moved on as she promised him she always would and she had found
happiness but seeing Steven with Billy, knowing that he would never do all
those things they had promised to do together when the children came struck
Mary with intense grief. Her entire body shuddered as she cried harder than she
had cried even when she had first found him lying on the floor of the old
house, his blood running through the floorboards.
"Mary?" Chris hurried into
the room and found her on the floor, sobbing. He had stopped in to say hello
when he had made his way up the stairs and heard the tears he knew could only
be for her.
Mary looked up, feeling foolish as
she tried to compose herself. He was at her side in a moment, dropping to his
knees so that he could reach her. No sooner than he was within her reach, Mary
buried herself in his arms and wept.
"What is it?" He asked,
genuine alarmed at this inexplicable show of grief. She did not answer,
clinging on to him as she sobbed and Chris felt helpless, not understanding
until his eyes moved to the trunk and he saw what was within it. Then he
understood almost completely and stopped his question, stroking her hair gently
as she released a torrent of sorrow in memory of the man he could never
replace, just as she could never take Sarah's place in her heart.
"I'm sorry Chris," she
stammered after a moment. "I don't know what came over me." She
replied. "I was just going through this things and it just started."
"Its okay," he whispered
softly. "I've been there too."
He moved her gently up to the bed
and they both sat there, side by side for a spell as Mary took control of
herself. Chris let his eyes moved to the pictures and saw one of Mary and
Steven; they could not have been any more than teenagers.
"That you?" He asked with
a bemused smile as he reached down and picked up the picture. He had not
thought it possible that the mane of golden hair could have been any lighter in
colour. However, in the black and white image of her
before him, Chris could tell that her hair must have been almost flaxen in her
youth.
"Yes." She sniffled. "Steven
and I were going to our first dance." She said shyly. "My father was
so happy that someone actually asked me that he went and got one of those
photography devices just to frame the moment. Apparently, he thought I'd never
have a beau because I was so headstrong."
"Really?" He said with a
raised brow. "I can't imagine that."
Mary chuckled slightly and sniffled
into a linen handkerchief she had produced from her pocket. "Steven
brought me this corsage and I had no idea what to do with it until he explained
it to me and then I thought it was very presumptuous of him to assume that I
was his girl just for one dance."
Chris could picture a young Mary
Travis giving the poor young Steven hell and then let his mind drift. "I
had to get Buck to pass my messages to Sarah." He confessed with a smile
on his own. "Ol' Hank wouldn't let me near his
daughter. I wanted to ask her to meet me one day so I got Buck to pass this
message to this girl he knew who was friends with Sarah. I turned up at the
meeting place with my best Sunday clothes and there was her pa with a
gun."
Mary giggled, feeling inordinately
better. "What did you do?"
"Ran out of there before he put
some buckshot into me." Chris retorted and was rewarded with another
titter of delight and a smile on her face. With a start, he realized he had not
told anyone that story, not even Buck who never knew the outcome of that
particular rendezvous. Still, it had made Mary smile and that was worth a tiny
fragment of his dignity.
"I've been thinking
Chris," she raised her blue grey eyes to his, a serious note creeping into
his voice. "I would like to bring Billy home permanently. He's been away
from me long enough."
"I think that's a good idea."
He nodded in agreement. "Boy should be with his mother." Chris paused
a moment and then asked. "How do you think he'll take to us being
together?"
"Billy adores you Chris."
Mary said without hesitation. "I've only ever seen him that happy with his
father but obviously, adjustments will have to be made. I'm through letting
someone else to raise my son. I need him to be with me."
"Okay," Chris replied,
perfectly aware how much she missed Billy when the boy was forced to return to
the judge whenever his school breaks were over. Mary would spend the next day
or so pining for him and it made Chris ached to see her that way. There were
times, he had to keep himself from riding to Eagle Bend and bringing Billy back
to her. However, if Billy Travis was going to make a permanent return to the
household then perhaps, there needed to be some other adjustments made as well.
"Maybe we ought to think about getting married."
Unlike her normal reaction, which
was usually to talk him out of it, there was no argument to that effect this
time. She merely nodded and let out a deep breath before meeting his eyes once
again. "Perhaps we should."
"Really?" Chris was mildly
surprised that she had capitulated so easily. He was perfectly aware that
marriage frightened her a little and had not pressed the issue during the past
few months but if Billy were to come home, then changes would have to be made.
For starters, he could not come and go as he pleased since he was sharing her
bed most nights and he could not imagine staying away from her, stealing secret
meetings only when time allowed for it. He could not stand sleeping without her
in his arms and he loved the scent of her hair in his lungs when he awoke in
the morning.
"I think we should set a
date." Mary declared, showing just how serious she was on this point.
However, she did not want to marry Chris simply because Billy was coming home.
The past few months with him had been wonderful, despite the calamities that
turned up with regular frequency. She still could not imagine why they had
stayed away from each other so long in the light of all they had come to mean
to one other since admitting how they felt. Perhaps shifting through Steven's
things had reminded her how truly short life was and it was necessary to grab
on with both arms, when true happiness showed itself.
Like the happiness she felt with
Chris Larabee.
"When?" This was one area
where he had no particular reference.
"Preferably before Billy gets
home." Mary answered without having to think twice, giving Chris the
impression that she had pondered this question before this moment.
"Just tell me which church to
show up at." He threw her a grin. "I'll turn up in my best Sunday
suit."
"You don't have a Sunday suit
any more." She pointed out.
"That's right," he teased.
"I guess we'll just have to call it off."
Mary merely smiled at him and felt
the need to hold him close. She slipped her arms around his taut body and held
him tight as she relished the sound of his heart beating so close to her ear. Chris
wrapped his arms around her and wondered how he had ever let this widow with
her golden hair so close to him that he could not imagine living without her.
At the moment however, Chris left such questions for another time. All he knew
was Mary wanted to be held and in that, he would always oblige her.
Ezra Standish watched Julia
Pemberton swirled the contents of her coffee cup with her spoon for the dozen
time, without saying a word. They were enjoying a quiet Sunday afternoon,
watching the day go by from her back porch that overlooked a delightful garden
she had spent considerable time and effort cultivating since buying the house.
While it seemed overly manicured with its trimmed hedges and bird feeder, Ezra
knew it was a sentimental gesture that beckoned back to the days when she was
socialite from a world far removed from the one she now inhabited.
It was at her invitation that he
shared this afternoon luncheon and yet she had barely said two words to him
since his arrival, nor had she even touched the food on her plate. Ezra had
tried drawing her out of her self-imposed silence but she seemed determined to
be lost in thought while he made futile attempts at conversation. By the time
she had poured them both coffee, his patience was almost at breaking point. He
would have left already if he had not believed that there was something on her
mind that she was having a great deal of difficulty voicing.
"Well," he said easing
back into his chair because that was far easier than fighting the urge to throw
the spoon in her teacup into the garden, if just to eliminate the sound of
metal scrapping against the porcelain bottom of her cup. "This has been a
scintillating afternoon, you are certainly in rare form today."
He commented, unable to hide the
sarcasm from his voice. " I simply cannot begin to list down which snippet
of your witty repertoire I enjoyed most."
Julia looked up at him, her green
eyes meeting his gaze with a look of intense fear that Ezra immediately felt
guilty for making such a sharp remark.
"I'm sorry." She
apologized. "I am a bit distracted today." She shifted her eyes to
the food before her and winced visibly at the sight of it, before shoving the
plate away.
"Julia," he reached across
her table and took her hand in his. Only when he enclosed her tiny palm in his
did he realize that she was shaking. Suddenly, Ezra felt inordinately
insensitive; unable to fathom why she was so afraid but furthermore at his
inability to notice any of it until now. Julia was hardly the most sentimental of
women even though she was feminine in every way. Very little effected her to
such a degree and Ezra wished she would let him in on what that could be so
terrible to drive her to such distraction. "What on earth is the
matter?"
Julia swallowed hard; not knowing
how to say the words for the idea was so awful that she was scarcely able to
hear herself saying them. However, she had no choice in the matter. He had a
right to know and perhaps he might have a solution because she certainly did
not. Julia had suspected this terrible possibility for the last two weeks and
with each day that passed, grew more certain that her fears was not unjustified
and were the harbinger of an even worse fate.
Finally, she knew that there was no
other way but to simply tell him and face his reaction, whatever it would be.
Julia swallowed thickly and let the words slip past her throat into his
hearing.
"Ezra, I think I'm
pregnant."
Considering what she had just told
him, Ezra thought held his poker face quite well. Amazingly enough, instead of
descending into a blind panic or adhering to the little voice in his head that
was telling him in no uncertain terms to pack his bags and start running until
he hit the border, Ezra remained calm and opted for another approach.
"Are you sure?" He asked
with a perfectly calm voice, fully aware that she was watching his reaction
very closely.
"Yes," Julia nodded
slowly. "I am late."
Ezra nodded slowly, allowing the full
implications of his statement seeping into his consciousness. In truth, he felt
fear. Cold and sharp like nothing he had ever experienced in his life. It took
the air out of his lungs and compelled him to start running. It was not that he
disliked the possibility that now presented itself. He liked children, enjoyed
their company but in no way did he wish to have any of his own, at least not
yet. His relationship with Julia was relatively new and she hardly seemed to
overflow with maternal instinct. He remembered what his own childhood had been
like with Maude pawning him off on a string of relatives. Julia reminded him a
great deal of Maude, too much as a matter of fact that he would like any child
of his own to endure the same upbringing.
"I don't want it." She
said softly, her lips trembling.
He looked at her and saw that she
was about to break into a thousand pieces but he could offer her no false hope
in that regard. "Julia, I don't see how you can work your way around
it."
"There are places." Julia
stood up from the table and walked the wooden porch rail. Because she was
unable to look him in the eye when she said this. She had no idea how he was
going to take her suggestion. Some men may find it a relief while others may
abhor such a radical idea not to mention the moral implications of what she
intended. "That take care of it."
Ezra knew the kind of places she was
talking about and he also knew that these things were performed by half witted
butchers who claimed to have a medical license and usually ended up killing the
patient. The procedures were done in darkened alleys that stunk of drink and
urine. He shuddered just envisioning Julia under ministrations of such men.
"I know the ones." He said softly, understanding the fear in her eyes
was real and was not about to rebuke her for such a suggestion.
If he could feel this incessant
pounding in his chest that was making him so terrified he could hardly speak,
whatever could she be enduring? He stood up and went towards her, slipping his
arms around her waist and drawing her back into his chest, so that he could
hold her and let her know that he was not angry or upset but rather supportive.
Ezra felt the sigh of relief that escaped her when she felt his arms around her
and tightened his grip, trying to will his strength into her.
After a moment however, Ezra made
her turn around and look at him. "Those men are hardly doctors, let alone
surgeons. I do not want you to suffer that." What he did not say was that
he could not bear to lose her if such a procedure when wrong as it was likely
to do. Still, there were not a lot of options left to them other than the most
obvious and yet neither had voiced it. Suddenly, Ezra knew he would have to
make the first step because it was a gentlemen's duty. "Marry me."
"Oh god!" She groaned and
broke away from him at that suggestion. Breathing hard, she drew a few feet
away from him and then began pacing before the wooden floorboards like a caged
animal, trapped and cornered in a snare that had no visible means of escape. At
that moment, Ezra had never seen her looking more vulnerable.
"I should take that as an
insult." Ezra responded, trying not to take offence at her less than
delighted response to his proposal but understood the fear that motivated it.
He tried to inject some humour into the situation
hoping he could at least draw a smile from her. However, judging by the nervous
expression in her eyes, it was not helping.
"I don't want to have it."
She stared at him in nothing less than wide-eyed fear now that she had revealed
her terrible situation. "I'm not ready for children or marriage. I mean I
have my independence for the first time in my life, I'm happy! I can't think of
having children!" She was starting to ramble now and Ezra went to her again
recognizing the seeds of panic in her emerald coloured
eyes.
Wrapping her shoulders with his
arms, he held her for a while knowing that she needed to feel reassurance
because she was terribly afraid and he could share her fears, although he was
hardly in the same predicament. With men it was always simple. He could walk
away and never have to worry about it. There was a time in the past when he was
scoundrel enough to do that but that man was no more. "We do not have a
great deal of choices left to us." Ezra whispered softly.
"I don't accept this." She
replied breathlessly. "There must be a way out."
If there was, Ezra could not see it.
He did not wish to be a father but it was inevitable, he could accept the role.
He had no wish to allow any child to suffer the upbringing he had been forced
to endure. No child should be made to feel that unwanted certainly not one of
his own. He barely knew his father and had no more images of him other than a
dapper smile and the glint of a gold pocket watch. Maude had chosen not to
speak very much about him and so Ezra had gone through his life not knowing
what it was to have a father. He would not wish that uncertainty on any child
of his.
"Julia," he made her look
at him. "We will think of something. " He said reassuringly. "I
promise you, you will not endure this alone."
And yet as she stared into this
eyes, she could see nothing but loneliness in the road ahead.
As soon as she had read the contents
of the telegram, Alexandra Styles had started running. She hurried to the infirmary
and found that Nathan was not presiding over his clinic. There had been no
criminal activity of any sort during the past week so the jailhouse was empty.
Thus that meant that the only other place he could be was naturally in the
saloon where all the seven seemed to gravitate whenever they had a spare
moment. Normally, she did not like to go into the establishment because proper
women did not frequent such places but lately she gone in there for so many
legitimate reasons that it hardly mattered to the townsfolk of Four Corners any
more. Besides, the news in her hands could not wait.
She stepped through the bat wing
doors and immediately spotted the group seated around their regular table
except for Buck who was indulging in his favourite
past time, flirting with Inez. The saloon was not very busy so Inez was
humoring the big man as he performed his usual mating dance that would soon be
followed by the inevitable rejection when Inez shot him down with a spirited
refusal. Josiah, Vin, Nathan and J.D. were playing
cards and it was the tracker who noticed her first.
He offered her a warm smile as she
approached and her eventual arrival was met with a chorus of greeting from
everyone respectively.
"It is time for our ride
already?" Vin asked, certain that he had yet
another hour to go before he was meant to call on her. He glanced at pendulum
clock hanging on the wall, with its pitted glass covering and saw that he was
correct in it being too early. Normally on Sundays, when Alex was not busy with
patients, the two of them would ride out of town and enjoy a lazy afternoon
exploring the country. Vin knew Alex enjoyed getting
out of
"No, it isn't. Inez," Alex
looked up at the lady bartender and called out. "How about some
champagne!"
"
"Darlin'
you don't drink." Vin pointed out, looking at
her with confusion in his eyes.
"I know, " she responded
cheerfully, throwing him one of her more dazzling smiles before turning back to
Inez to reconsider her drinking options. "Okay, sarsaparilla then."
Inez rolled her eyes and returned.
"Coming right up, you reckless thing you."
"Are we celebrating?"
Josiah inquired, exchanging amused glances with the rest of the man at the
table over Alex's unusually exuberant demeanour.
"Yes," Alex grinned simply
bursting with pride. She was very pleased with herself a this moment. "We
are definitely celebrating." She replied and planted a very fierce kiss on
Vin's lips. The men around the table responded with a
series of hoots and whistles as the tracker turned very red before pulling her
down on his lap.
"Siddown
woman." He growled with a bashful smile on his face. "What's
happened?"
"Nathan, I wrote to the Boston
Medical Society last month." Alex announced and saw the confusion in
everyone's face; even Nathan's himself. "I wrote to them about you. My
father has an old friend on the board of regents at
"You know someone at
Harvard?" Josiah exclaimed.
"What's Harvard?" Buck inquired,
unfamiliar with that particular institution.
"A very fancy school."
J.D. answered. One could not possibly be hail from the big city and not know
about that educational icon.
"Anyway," Alex shook her
head from their distracting chatter and continued with her story. "I asked
this old friend what it would take to have you qualify for a proper medical licence."
Nathan's eyes widened in nothing
less than astonishment. "You did that for me Miss Alex?" He asked,
unable to believe that she would make such inquiries on his behalf to such a
prestigious institution.
"Of course," she shrugged,
surprise that he could even ask such a thing. "Anyway, obviously you're
too old to go to medical school not to mention the cost of it but I convinced
them that you are highly skilled but lacking no certification and he informed
me in this telegram," she waved the crumpled in her hand and continued
speaking. "That if you were to study your brains out for the next year,
you can sit for the equivalency exam next fall."
"Hear that Nathan!" Buck
slapped him on the back with a wide grin. "You gonna
be a real doctor!"
"Hold it!" Alex frowned at
Buck for interrupting because there was a little bit more to it than just that.
"If you pass the exam then you'll have to spend the next three years
working closely with me so I can complete your accreditation. However, at the
end of it, you'll sit for another exam and get yourself a legitimate medical
degree as a fully fledged general practitioner!"
"All right!" Nathan
practically leapt out of the chair as Alex rose off Vin's
lap to embrace him hard. "I can't believe you did this for me Miss Alex. I
don't know what to say!" He stammered and finally decided to express his
gratitude by twirling her around once before setting her down, the wide grin on
his face a clear indication of how he felt about the opportunity before him.
"Its what you deserve.
Doc." Vin smiled, inordinately proud of Alex for
going to all the effort for Nathan. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled
her down onto his lap once again.
"That's wonderful Nathan."
Inez who had come to the table with Alex's drink, set it down near Vin's own glass of whisky before giving the healer a warm
embrace of her own. "You will make such a good doctor."
"Doctor Jackson," J.D.
laughed easing back into his chair. "I think it sounds really neat."
"Now hold on," Nathan
reminded, not about to let everything go to his head just yet. "I still
got to pass that exam."
"And put up with her for the
next three years." Vin pointed out and caused
Alex to pull his hat down over his face playfully.
"I can help you study
Nathan." J.D. offered being the only one of the group with the most recent
experience of school and studying.
"Well I can take care of the
entertainment at recess." Buck replied, not willing to be left out of
anything. "The only question is blond or brunette."
"Senor Wilmington," Inez
shaking her head with disapproval. "You are a pig." She said sharply
before turning back to the bar with her skirt flouncing behind her.
"She loves me you know,"
Buck looked at the others as he prepared to follow her. "She's fighting it
but she does indeed love me." With that, Buck strode away to continue his
afternoon attempt at winning the hand of the fair but adamant Inez.
"Come by the clinic tomorrow
Nathan," Alex said in the wake of Buck's departure. "I've got most of
the books you'll need for this exam so you can get started on working up some
type of study schedule and believe you will need it. There is hell and then
there is studying to be a doctor. You should see what I had to go through as
intern."
"If its anything like what I
seen in the field hospital during the war, it ain't
going to frighten me much." Nathan replied, still feeling euphoric after
Alex's statement. Ever since he had helped his first patient that was all
Nathan had ever wanted to be, a doctor. Not just some back yard quack that
might have some skill in mending bones but an honest to God doctor, with his
name on the door and a piece of paper saying he could heal.
"Wait until you have to do your
first autopsy." Alex remarked with a smile, remembering the experience
well. "It's not the cutting that gets to you, it's the smell of the
formaldehyde."
"Easy ma'am," Josiah
responded nudging her gaze towards J.D. who was visualizing the picture and
turning a shade green at the same time.
"Sorry J.D." Alex
apologized. "I keep forgetting not to talk shop."
"I can take it." J.D. said
with great dignity although he did admit the idea of autopsy or anything to do
forensic medicine did make his stomach quiver. Sure, the young man had seen his
share of bodies but to imagine them on a table, bare with the cause of their
death displayed so clearly while someone started disemboweling it with a knife,
did send shivers down his spine.
"Sure you can." Josiah
rolled his eyes with a resigned expression on his face that told the others not
to argue with the boy.
"Its nice thinking that I'll be
a doctor some day though." Nathan sighed, easing into his chair with a
smile of contentment on his face. "A little country doctor where I get
paid in nickels and dimes."
"Not to mention chickens."
Alex pointed out with a laugh.
"Chickens?" J.D. looked at
her. "Someone paid you in chickens?"
"Yeah?" Alex nodded,
"we get paid in barter all the time."
"That's right." Nathan
replied, knowing that with some people it was necessary to accept payment in
currency that was not cold hard cash. He would have treated them anyway without
the money but pride was a difficult thing to hurdle. Some patients insisted on
paying, with whatever they had. "You don't think I got new curtains in my
infirmary cause I decided to sew them? That was Mrs. Samuels, paying me for
fixing her Becky's teeth."
"Don't forget the jams,
preserves and the pies." She added.
"I knew it was too good to be
true." Vin said wistfully.
"What?" Josiah looked at
him.
"That she made all those
herself. I thought I finally had me a woman who could cook." He offered
Alex a devilish grin and she threw him a sarcastic smirk.
"Keep it up and you won't have
a woman at all." She retorted and pulled herself off his lap. "Well
gentlemen, its been fun and you if you're real nice," she glared at Vin. "I'll see you in awhile." Her lips curled
into the barest hint of an affection smile that Vin
returned in kind before she kissed him on the cheek and swept out of the
saloon.
"Now that's a real nice
lady." Nathan grinned, still shell shocked by what Alex had done for him.
Since her arrival, they had been the best of friends ever since she pulled those
bullets out of him that almost ended his life. With the arrival of the doctor
in town, Nathan had thought that his services would no longer be required since
most practitioners were rather territorial but Alex was never like that. She
treated him like an equal and more than that, she treated him like a friend.
They were not only healers but almost family. She reminded him of someone he
once knew although he never voiced that similarity to her or anyone else. Even
Rain understood that their friendship was completely platonic but extremely
close. While Alex was a private person who rarely revealed much of her inner
thoughts to people, Nathan had a deeper sense of her than possibly Vin himself.
"A bit of pain." Vin volunteered even though he did not at all mean it. He
was as close to happy as he had ever been with his life in
"Sure Vin."
Even J.D. knew that he was lying.
"See," Josiah smiled at
the younger man. "You are learning things already."
Nicholas Serfonteine
had no intention of climbing out of the stagecoach, much less take in the
sights of this utterly panoramic vista of a town that happened to be called
"It looks we shall have to take
a slight detour my dear." He said to his sister, Violet. As siblings went,
they did not look very much unlike. Violet had his mother's dark gold hair and
her clear blue eyes. She was vacuous as most southern women of her day since
she was born after the war and had no memory of those terrible days when the
Northern army had plundered their world.
"Whatever do you mean
Nicholas?" She inquired, staring at him with her doe eyed look, an
expression of innocence that belied what he truly about his sister. Vacuous she
might be but there were dark thoughts running inside that pretty little head.
"The driver has informed me
that there is a problems with the carriage and we will need to stop and have it
repaired."
"I had no idea this trip was
going to be so tiresome." She gushed, reaching into her velvet bag and
producing a small lace fan, which she promptly started waving at her supposedly
warm face.
"You did want to come." He
reminded her. The West was opening up and Nicholas was wise enough to know that
the day of the plantations in the South was done. To survive, one had to adhere
to the convention of the day, to move beyond the cotton fields into the
unexplored territory of business opportunity. The Serfonteine
family had suffered better than most in the aftermath of the war. This was
mostly his foresight to invest a considerable part of the family's fortune in a
northern bank. Some may have considered this sacrilegious but Nicholas was not
about to be left destitute no matter how things went in the great conflict.
In any case, the end of the war had
seen him retaining enough assets to rebuild his plantation while neighbours and friends collapsed in defeat to the scavenging
of carpetbaggers who bought their land from under them. Nicholas had survived
the war and his family had prospered despite the indignity of northern rule in
his home in the great state of
"I thought there was some
semblance of civilization in the West, not the primitive sewers we have been
forced to endure." She replied looking out the window at the parched
landscape with clear distaste.
"These primitive sewers are the
cornerstones on which the West will be built, my dear Violet and it is a wise
man that takes part in all that. There is a fortune to be made."
"Oh do stop talking about
money," she replied closing her fan and slipping it back into her purse.
"It is so tiresome when you drone on about such things. A real lady has no
use for that kind of information, I only require that it is there for my
use."
Nicholas laughed, pleased that he
had raised Violet the way his mother would have been proud. Elisabeth Serfonteine had passed on ten years ago. She was already
old when Violet was born and the birth had weakened her considerably. She spent
the next ten years after Violet's arrival bedridden and pining for the way
things were and the father that had fallen on the fields of
Of course, he had his own way of
fighting such things too.
With the emancipation of slaves and
former property strutting around the town he lived as good as you please,
Nicholas had no choice but to take action. He could not see how their current
situation was any better than their ordered existence on the plantation where
they were provided with good honest work and a belly full of food. Instead they
were not forced to scramble for scraps, taking on work that should have gone to
decent white families barely getting by in the wake of Yankee plunder. It
infuriated him when he heard words like 'civil right' and equality when any
sane person knew that the white man was meant to rule and a nigger was just a
nigger.
Not that it was just the niggers
that were getting uppity, travelling in the West had
been an eye opening experience where he had seen all kind of racial types
polluting the waters so to speak. There were Mexicans moving up north from the
border, Chinamen who inhabited railway lines like infestations of locusts and
rats, growing in number while demanding to be respected. The abominations seem
to escalate with each town he visited, half breed children running around the
place, their odd colouring revealing the
bastardization two species.
Yes, if he did not feel so inclined
at the moment to return home, he would have been tempted to stay and do
something about it. It appeared the West was in need of some decent ethnic
values regarding purity of race and the dangers of contamination.
"This must be it." Violet
declared as the barren landscape of flat, unending plains was quickly replaced
by the busy street of a small town.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Nicholas
stared out the window and saw a town not much different than any other he had
seen so far in the west. Wooden buildings covered in dust, a few stone edifices
that marked itself as government built, generals stores and barber shops with
its striped poles, not to mention the saloons that were a necessary staple of
life in this rugged frontier village.
There was nothing here that Nicholas
found surprising or at all interesting. All he wanted was to find a cool place
to sit out the heat while the stagecoach was repaired. As it was, he had no
idea how Violet was going to stand being in such a place, considering her
attention span was limited to how much she could entertain herself.
"Hardly a charming place."
He remarked and saw from her unhappy expression that she agreed with him
wholeheartedly.
"How long are we to remain in
this place?" She asked hoping that it was not very long because could not
abide having to remain here more than a day.
"Until the stage is
fixed." Nicholas retorted as the rumbling in the carriage started to fade
away gradually as the stage came to a stop.
"That cannot be soon
enough." She grumbled and Nicholas had to admit he could not disagree with
that assessment.
Nathan and Vin
left the saloon together.
Nathan wanted to take a ride out to
the Seminole village to see Rain and tell her the good news. The healer was on
such a euphoric high at the moment, he wanted to share it with the woman he
loved. It was still so hard to believe that a medical degree was within his
grasp and it was no pipe dream. All he had to do was launch into his studies
with the same kind of determination he launched into everything and some day he
would be Doctor Jackson. He liked the sound of that very much.
"So you gonna
head out today?" Vin inquired as the two men
walked along the boardwalk together since they were both going each other's
way.
"I think maybe I'll go at dawn
tomorrow and surprise Rain." Nathan grinned. "So that you and Miss
Alex can have your ride in peace this afternoon, in case anything comes
up." By that of course he meant any medical emergencies that might occur
in town while she was with Vin. Since her arrival in
town, Nathan and Alex had taken turns covering for each other whenever the need
arose for one of them to leave.
Vin smiled
faintly. "Thanks," he replied quietly and then added, "I'm real
glad she did this for you Nathan. Ain't no one I know
who deserves to be a doctor more than you. You saved my skin a couple times for
me to know that you're a born healer. I know Alex thinks so too."
"That real good of you to say Vin," Nathan found himself genuinely touched by the
admission. "Some people have a calling," Nathan confessed. "I
guess healing folks has always been mine. Always seemed to have a knack for
it."
"It's more than a knack," Vin pointed out as they saw the stage rumbling into town.
"You got a way with people that makes 'em trust
you."
Nathan could not say that he knew
exactly what Vin was talking about but he did know
that he had been drawn to healing from the first moment he had entered the
walls of that field hospital during the war. Even now, the stench of old blood
lingered in his memory when he recalled the sight of uniformed bodies, whether
they were blue or grey, stained in blood, their pain dissolving the cause they
had fought and would soon die for as well. They wept, screamed, argued and
prayed but all wearing the same need in their eyes. He had wandered through the
halls that first day, watching the doctors hiding their own pain behind their
eyes for the ones who could not be saved and taking not enough pleasure from
the ones that could.
"Is the stage meant to be in
today?" He asked off-handedly as the carriage thundered past them and came
to a halt outside the Four Corners Hotel.
"I thought it didn't come through
here on a Sunday." Vin replied now that he
thought about it.
The stagecoach driver pulled the
team of horses to a standstill before climbing off his perch. Opening the door
for the passengers inside the carriage, a man and a young woman stepped out of
the compartment and surveyed the town with interest and very quickly Vin saw that interest fade into dismay. Judging from their
clothes, they were rich and no doubt came from some big city with all its
excesses. He could see the young lady in a particular state of dislike.
Obviously,
Nathan could not believe it.
For a moment, he thought his eyes were
playing tricks on him because his astonishment was too complete to accept the
other alternative, that what he was seeing was no illusion and the man stepping
out of the stagecoach was exactly who Nathan believed he was. It had almost
been twenty years in the past but the memories allowed Nathan to recognize the
face just as clearly as if it had been only yesterday. A wave of nausea
threatened to overwhelm the healer as he stared into the face that had been the
source of so many nightmares. How many times had he awaken screaming in the
night, covered in sweat while the lingering memory of that face laughed at his
impotent fury.
"Serfonteine."
Nathan uttered that one word and started walking.
"Who?" The tracker asked
but received no answer.
Vin stared after
him in confusion as Nathan strode across the street, purpose in every forceful
step towards the carriage and its occupants. Instinct forced Vin after Nathan, not knowing why but recognizing trouble
on the horizon by all the hairs on the back of his neck that were standing on
end. There was something in Nathan's voice that Vin
had never heard before and it unsettled him.
Nathan was across the street in no
time and it was the stagecoach driver that saw him first. He had on occasion
treated the man who went by the name of Charlie Burns for injuries incurred
during his stage coaching duties. While the two were not close friends, they
were friendly enough when they came across each other.
"Howdy Nathan." He greeted
pleasantly as his passengers turned at the sound the rapidly approaching
footsteps against the dirt.
Nathan did not answer and as he drew
closer to the man, knew with absolute certainty that he was not wrong in his
identification. This was him, all right. No doubt about it.
Without giving quarter or warning,
Nathan literally pounced on the man and brought him down like a sack of rice,
slamming him hard against the ground. The woman beside him staggered backward
and started screaming.
"Nathan are you crazy!"
Charlie shouted as Nathan grappled with Nicholas Serfonteine
on the ground. The woman had cringed away as Nathan started pummeling the man
beneath him with heavy blows.
"You bastard!" Vin heard Nathan scream as he went to help Charlie to pull
the healer off the stranger. The voice that Nathan used was unlike anything Vin had ever heard Nathan utter. The intensity of the hate
in it was beyond description and Vin was at a loss to
understand what could inspire such anger, especially from a man as abhorrent of
violence as Nathan. It there was anyone in their group that could be relied
upon to keep a cool head at all times, it was the healer. Yet watching him tear
into the man below him with such brutal rage, Vin
knew if he did not stop it soon, Nathan was going end up killing him.
"Charlie shut that woman
up!" Vin snapped as he brushed past the driver
and wrapped his arm around Nathan's arm. A small crowd had started to form,
attracted by the commotion by the time Vin was able
to tear Nathan away from the man. It took almost every ounce of strength the
tracker possessed to wrench Nathan free of the man but somehow he managed.
Nicholas scrambled to his feet, almost as confused as everyone else who was
witnessing the event.