Part Three

Purgatory

Ezra did not feel much like company with everything that was going on in his life at present. Thus instead of spending time within the saloon as was his customary practice when he was not required to perform his duties as lawman, he found himself playing solitaire outside the jailhouse. Evening had descended over Four Corners and at night the dusty town took on an ethereal aura with the luster of moonlight bathing every surface in a glow of iridescent indigo. The streets were quiet now as people withdrew to their homes; no doubt sitting to supper or the other rituals that came with family life and domestic bliss. He glanced up occasionally from the cards he was playing to watch the progress of the town as it moved from day to night; the sun matching his observation as it arched across the sky.

As of yet, Julia had yet to send for him and as tempted as he was to go to her house and demand an answer from her, Ezra knew that it was probably wiser if he left her alone for a time. After all, this was no easy decision she was being forced to make and motherhood was a subject Ezra was certain Julia had never considered until the present situation was thrust upon her. He could understand her reservations and doubts because in the past day, he had felt all those things until his talk with Chris Larabee. Strange, he expected good advice coming from Nathan or perhaps Josiah but certainly not from Chris Larabee.

Ezra Standish had played many roles in life, gambler, con man, even preacher at one point and now lawman. However, he had never imagined he would ever play the role of father and wondered if he would make a good one. Truth be known, Ezra knew he was good with children although he would admit that to no one, not unless firearms were involved. He enjoyed them more than he would like and having one of his own was not as daunting as he originally believed. Raising a child in this place was not the worst thing he could do in this life since Mary Travis had managed quite well with young Master Billy until the unfortunate demise of his father. Ezra was fairly certain that he and Julia could not do any worse for their child.

Next thing he knew he would be picking out wallpaper for a nursery.

Ezra glanced up long enough to take stock of the evening when he saw Nicholas Serfonteine making his way across the street towards the jailhouse. The man met his eyes directly as Ezra looked at him and the gambler realized that Nicholas was approaching him in particular. Ezra showed no signs of being affected by the impending visit and continued playing his game of solitaire as Nicholas crossed the street and stepped onto the sidewalk that would take him directly to the front landing where Ezra was currently occupying.

"Good evening to you Sir." Nicholas raised his hat at Ezra when he finally reached the gambler.

Ezra wondered what the man's intentions were but decided that there was no reason to be rude until he learned what they were. "Likewise Mr. Serfonteine." Ezra responded, pausing long enough to offer the man a slight nod of acknowledgment.

"We have not been properly introduced." Nicholas declared. "I am Nicholas Serfonteine and you are.....?" He waited in expectation for an answer.

"Ezra Standish." Ezra answered, showing no signs that he was puzzled by this man's gesture of friendly behavior. Surely, Nicholas knew that Nathan and Ezra were friends after the altercation in the street earlier today. Nevertheless Ezra was intrigued even though he took great pains to show otherwise. "Would you care to sit down?"

"I'm much obliged." Nicholas replied and then sat down in the chair not far from his own while Ezra continued playing his game of solitaire, hiding his interest regarding Serfonteine's visit but still curious as to why the man had obviously sought him out.

"Now Sir," the gambler said smoothly, eyes still fixed on the cards. "What can I do for you?"

"I realize you must have a less than stellar impression of me from your 'associate' and my former runaway slave Ajax." He answered.

Ezra met his eyes long enough to add. "Nathan. His name is Nathan."

Nicholas reacted with little more than a flinch of distaste but it was enough to tell Ezra everything he wanted to know regarding why the man was here. "Of course," Nicholas swallowed thickly as if bile was sliding down his throat. "Nathan." He corrected himself and brushed aside the dislike for having to use that name before moving on to more important matters. "I am not the monster that he makes me out to be."

"So you did not rape and murder his sister." Ezra retorted, never moving his gaze from the cards but completely aware of the sudden tension in Nicholas' gait as he made that remark.

"Rape is a strong word." Nicholas answered, his jaw tightening but he knew he had to address this question or else he would never get anywhere with Mr. Ezra Standish. "And he uses it to absolve his own crimes. Back in those days, a slave was a slave and young pretty ones always caught our attention. Come now, Mr. Standish, can you never say that you never saw a pretty Negress that captured your eye?"

Ezra smiled faintly. "I did not have occasion to be on many plantations in my youth. My family were mostly based in the city and did not own them." Which was a lie of course because by the time he was old enough to be aware of women, Maude had him on the road with her, travelling from one con to another. A slave was a luxury best afforded by rich plantation owners, not a duo of grifters.

"Well it does happen," Nicholas pointed out since Ezra could not share the experience of what he was talking about. "Rebecca was one of the most beautiful young women I had ever seen and the feeling I felt for her was mutual. She enjoyed our relationship as much as I did and we shared many nights together. I always managed to send her brother on an errand so that we were afforded our privacy but one night, Ajax....I'm sorry Nathan returned home early."

Ezra listened closely even though outwardly, it would seem as if he was not the least bit interested. "I take it Mr. Jackson was not impressed."

"He was not." He answered grimly. "Rebecca assured me that all was well and that she would explain it to Nathan. It was only under her reassurances that I left her. If I knew what would transpire at my departure, I would not have left her alone."

"Pray tell, what did happen?" Ezra met the man's gaze for the first time.

"He beat her to death. When I found her, she was nothing more than a pulp of flesh, bleeding. She died in my arms...the poor child." He paused as if regaining his composure as the emotion saturated his voice. "I was half dazed with grief, my foreman demanded him shot but I thought a whipping would suffice. The other slaves were similarly enraged, they wanted his head. After the whipping, we had to keep him secluded or else the others would have torn him to pieces. It was more out of self-preservation that he ran. I did not expend much effort to find him. Honestly, I did not want him brought back."

"It appears that Mr. Jackson has provided us with a different account of his tale." Ezra said without a trace of disbelief in his voice regarding Serfonteine's recollection of things. He did not for an instant believe a word the man said because Ezra knew Nathan. He knew the healer not only as a good friend but by the man he was. Nathan found it difficult to kill under most circumstances, even though he understood that it was a necessary evil in life. The grief that he had seen inside Nathan's eyes was real. It was not the fabrication of a guilty mind.

Ezra also knew men like Serfonteine because his southern upbringing had brought him into contact with them many times. In those days, what Serfonteine and those like him did was just a sign of the way things were. He had no doubt that Serfonteine actually believed Rebecca Jackson had consented to their union.

Since meeting Nathan, Ezra had taken to seeing things objectively and could almost guarantee that Rebecca had caught the man's eyes. Beauty in a slave was a most unfortunate thing, Ezra had come to decide. Nathan was probably sent away on some errand, that much of Serfonteine's story was probably true, Ezra thought. He visited the girl whom probably protested, knowing that there was no chance to save her virtue once the master had decided to take it. He raped the girl, kicking and screaming and inflicted his fatal beating on her at the same time. What did he have to worry about if he harmed her? She was just another slave.

He tried to imagine what Nathan must have felt upon his return and found his sister dying if not already dead and was forced to suppress the feeling of disgust that rose from his gut like sour bile. However, he held it all hidden under the surface of his indifferent facade.

"He no doubts feels the need to forget what part he played in her death. It is far simpler to blame me for her death than it is to acknowledge that he killed her." Nicholas continued with his well-crafted tale, encouraged by Ezra's lack of judgement so far.

"Well, " Ezra eased back into his chair and gazed at the man, deciding to play a little charade to unmask Mr. Serfonteine's reason for being here. "In those days, it was the way things were. Mr. Jackson as much I care for his friendship ought to know that such issues should be left in the past. He ought to consider himself fortunate that the law does not pursue the matter. Who knows what truths might be uncovered?"

"I am glad you see things that way." Nicholas smiled, pleased by Ezra's statement. "Tell me, how does a southern gentlemen like yourself find such rabble as company?"

"I am hardly respectable Sir," Ezra remarked. "I own a local tavern and it is in my best interest that law and order be served here. I did not select the men who would be my companions in this endeavor."

"I understand." The former plantation owner nodded. "This town needs more than law and order however." He pointed out.

"How so?" Ezra looked at him with interest, deciding that they were coming down to the heart of all this idle chatter.

"There appears to be a potent mix of several different races in this town. It seems decent folk are being overrun."

By decent folk, Ezra immediately translated his words into meaning 'white', however, he kept the awareness silent. "Yes, there does appear to be a potent mix of types in Four Corners. Unfortunately, one has to embrace them for things to go along smoothly."

"Yes," Nicholas nodded. "It is not the preferred manner at how things ought to be. I believe that we can help each other Mr. Standish."

"How so?" Ezra asked, glad that he was finally getting down to what he wanted. Playing along with this man's bigotry was leaving a decidedly bad taste in his mouth.

"I have friends who will soon be here and when they arrive, let us say we will give the locals some food for thought as well as some direction in how to eliminate this unsavory problem. I'd like you to join us."

Ezra did not like the sound of this at all but he wanted to know more and so it was best to keep the lines of communication open as he tried to garner as much information as he possibly could from Serfonteine. "It's an interesting offer." Ezra replied with genuine interest in his voice, as genuine as was capable of a man playing such a part. "I am to assume that these pointers will be violent?"

"Not all," Nicholas answered, with a look in his eyes that indicated dismay at such a suggestion. "My associates and I will only remain on an advisory capacity. No acts of any kind of physical display will come from us, I guarantee it."

"In that case," Ezra said with a smile. "You have secured my interest in giving this matter further thought. I assume you will be in Four Corners for some time?"

"Yes," Nicholas grinned, oozing charm that Ezra used so often himself. "For as long as it takes."

"I will think on your offer," Ezra said finally, committing himself that far until he had conferred with the others on what to do. Chris Larabee had been right, there was a storm coming and now Nicholas Serfonteine had just revealed in what shape it would take when it finally arrived.

"That's all I ask." Nicholas replied graciously. "I shall wait to hear from you then, Mr. Standish?"

"Most definitely." Ezra smiled with every indication that Serfonteine would be rewarded by a receptive response to his offer.

After Ezra had spoken to Chris Larabee.

Like Ezra Standish, Nathan had no wish to be around his friends this particular evening. He lingered inside his infirmary, almost afraid to venture out of the room in the instance he saw Serfonteine and allowed his baser instincts to take hold and coerce him into doing something foolish. He had listened to all the arguments made by Josiah and the others and so he knew that they were correct. He had too much in his life to throw it all away for that piece of scum, no matter how much he wanted to kill the man. Nathan owed the people in his life better than to cause them pain with that act of violence.

Rain was waiting for him and he could not ruin both their lives on something he could no longer change. Revenge would not bring Rebecca back, Josiah was right about that and after awhile, Nathan had started to understand that too. Finally, despite all the instincts that told him that Serfonteine had brought discourse with him into Four Corners, Nathan had decided to take a some time to visit with Rain at the Seminole village. Now more than ever, he needed to see her sweet face and hear her strong words as she held him and assured him that all would be well.

Suddenly, he heard the door knock and a familiar voice asked for entry.

"Come on in, Miss Alex." He prompted and went back to tidying his medicine cabinet for the want of something to do. He had been looking for little jobs like this all day, seeking some way to spend as much time in the safety of this room, which was his exclusive bastion of Four Corners. Inside its confines, he was just a healer, not a black man or a former slave, sometimes he was not even Nathan Jackson but someone who could bring comfort to those in pain. It would be so simple if it could be that way for himself as well.

"Hello Nathan." Alex greeted upon entering the room. Vin had told her what Nathan had been through today and distress was something she could understand at this moment after her encounter with Julia today. "How are you feeling?"

"Vin told you huh?" Nathan asked, seeing the look of concern on her lovely face. More than anyone at this moment, Alex was the one who brought home to him just what Nicholas Serfonteine had taken from him. He had taken to Alexandra Styles from the first few days of their acquaintance because she reminded him so much of Rebecca, even though he had never spoken about his sister to anyone but Josiah until now.

"Yes he did," she nodded. "He seemed to think it was the only way he could get out of trouble for not showing up for our ride." She tried to joke but the humor did not reach her eyes.

"He didn't want to leave me alone," Nathan explained. "Kept thinking I would do something stupid."

"Would you have?" She looked at him and asked. She could not imagine what he must have endured during his tenure of slavery and guessed it must have been terrible indeed. She had seen the scars on his back once and her stomach hollowed at the notion that someone had inflicted them upon him in the belief that he was property. Alex had observed enough about the old wounds to know that his injuries had been caused when he was quite young but Alex had never dared to ask Nathan about them.

"I might have." Nathan admitted honestly. "I just look at him and I see what he did to Rebecca and all good sense leaves my head. I just want to kill him."

"I know how you feel." Alex admitted softly. "But revenge is not all it's cracked up to be." Her eyes revealing that she was drifting away to some place very dark inside herself where she had once chanced to visit in a moment of absolute rage and come away a changed person. "Once you have it, you spend the rest of your life trying to decide whether what you did made you any better than the person you tried to kill and the person you tried to avenge would have thought any less of your for doing it."

Nathan knew Alex was speaking from experience and it was the one thing he had always wanted to ask her even though he and Chris Larabee had agreed to remain silent. He understood completely why she had did what she had, realizing that her life depended on it just as surely as she was trying to protect her future with Vin. "You're talking about Mason ain't ya?" He asked just as quietly.

Alex met his eyes and saw no reason to lie. Randall Mason had pursued her across the globe and would have continued doing so until one of them was dead. He had killed her father to possess her and driven Alex to the firm conclusion that the only way to make him relent was to kill him. Otherwise, she would have spent her life looking over her shoulder, praying that he would not be there, lying in wait to hurt her or kill Vin Tanner. "I thought you might have known." She said with a soft sigh. "I did what I have to but given the choice of doing it different, I don't know if I would have done the same thing. Perhaps, I could have found some other way to deal with him."

"He shot you in the back Miss Alex," Nathan pointed out. "Man like that wouldn't stop until he dropped dead from the exhaustion. We all knew that. What you did, you were driven to do and I ain't never thought any less of you for doing it."

Alex smiled warmly at the healer, feeling an intense wave of emotion come over her. She crossed the floor and embraced him hard, perhaps because he might need it and no one else would have. She held him close because he was her friend, her best friend and the idea of what he must have endured all those years ago, made her want to weep for him, as surely as she wanted to weep for his sister Rebecca.

"The best thing revenge you can have on that man Nathan, is to survive." Alex said after a moment. "He wants you to come after him. He wants you to do something stupid so that he can end your life and justify to everyone that he had a reason for doing it. You want to hurt him Nathan? You ignore him and consider him nothing because people like that have to hurt others to justify their own being. You're best revenge is to live."

Nathan hugged her back, understanding why Vin Tanner loved her so much in that instant because she was truly extraordinary in a way that was undefinable.

"Thank you Miss Alex," he said trying not to let his emotions get the better of him because there was tears in her eyes when they finally parted. "You make a good argument. Rebecca used to say the same thing you know." He tried to smile but could not quite manage it. "She used to say to me that we were going to survive this one way or another, all we had to have was hope. She always used to have more than me. She was my faith."

"She must have been wonderful." Alex sympathized with his deep longing for his sister. She felt the same way about her father.

"She was." Nathan swallowed thickly, feeling his sorrow starting to break free in a torrent of grief. "I miss her so much Miss Alex. I sometimes expect her to come running through my door with that smile of hers. She had my momma's smile you know? She was so beautiful and it kills me that all I can do when I close my eyes and think about her is see what that animal did to her." The tears came then and he started to sob. Alex had him in her arms before the first tear rolled down his cheek and she held him there, trying to offer comfort as he cried for the sister that never had a chance because of the world they had been born into. She held him and soothed him with her gentle voice, urging him to let it all out because he needed to. Rebecca had been buried inside him for so long that when he finally spoke about her, all the pain that had been locked inside him require release.

When he finally stopped, Alex could see the burden that had been lifted from him. He probably still wanted to kill Serfonteine and that desire for vindication would never truly fade away from his psyche, however Nathan was in better position to deal with his anger now. He wiped his eyes, looking very much like the 17-year-old who had fled from the plantation as he composed himself before her.

"Thank you Miss Alex," he said gratefully, feeling no embarrassment and realized how close their relationship was for him not to have minded her seeing him in such a vulnerable state. "That helped me more than you know."

"I'm always ready to help a future colleague." Alex smiled, brushing off his gratitude because she knew he would have done for her the same if the roles were reversed.

"Not yet," Nathan replied and this time the humor did reach his eyes. "But someday."

Purgatory was no place for a lady to be and certainly not one in the condition that Julia Pemberton was presently afflicted. She knew that desperation had driven her to leave Four Corners and ride towards Purgatory because she could think no other way out her predicament. Alexandra Styles could not help and that meant that this was the only avenue left to her. The sun was already setting in the hive of villainy when she arrived in the shantytown. Despite her attempts to be brave as she moved through this collection of canvas tents and corrugated tin shanties, Julia knew how out of place she was here.

Eyes followed her in interest as she sought out the local houses, eyes belonging to men whose intent was clear in their lustful gazes and their lascivious sneers as she passed by them. She held her purse close to her as she walked by and her gun even closer although she did not relish using it on anyone, should they choose to accost her. Julia tried not to think about how furious Ezra was going to be when he learnt that she had come here alone with the terrible plan she had in mind.

His words still rung in her eyes throughout the entire journey to Purgatory and while she tried to ignore everything he had said, nothing would force them from her memory. Their persistence was beyond belief for she heard them even after she had sought out the working girls and spoken to them in length about where she might find the person or persons capable of helping her out of her present situation and thus saving her reputation.

Although amply rewarded with warnings to the contrary, the working girls reluctantly gave Julia the name of the man who would assist her with her 'problem'. They had warned her against seeing him because he was meant to be a most unsavory character with little morals to accompany the grisly work he preformed at his exorbitant prices. Julia took the warnings to heart, even though she knew she had no choice but to submit herself to his ministrations. There were so many fears running through her mind regarding the possibility of having this child that she could not fathom going through with the pregnancy under any circumstances.

Yet as she arrived at the corrugated tin structure on the far end of Purgatory, the idea of having the child did not become as frightening as undergoing the process to eliminate it. The shanty was covered in rust and did not at all seem like the most hygienic place to use as a latrine let alone as a surgical venue.

A puddle of gray water at the side of the structure buzzed with bloated flies and the smell she detected from the place was almost gagging. Instead of turning right around and going home to Four Corners, Julia forced herself to the wooden door and tapped warily on its rough surface.

The man who answered her knock stared at her with hollow eyes and gaunt features. He reminded her of an undertaken except his clothes were filthy and the apron he wore around him looked like it belonged in a butcher shop. She saw stains against the cloth that might have been blood and fluid but averted her gaze when she told herself that it was better if she did not know what it was precisely. This entire experience was going to be unpleasant enough without her remembering the petty details.

"What can I do for you?" He asked gruffly even though his eyes told her that he already knew.

"The girls at the house told me you could help me." She swallowed, her voice sounded meek as she alluded to her problem in her frightened gaze.

"What problem would that be?" There was the barest hint of a sneer on his face, as if he would derive some perverse pleasure in hearing a lady ask him for help.

Julia narrowed her gaze, hating him intensely at that moment because she had no choice but to play his cruel games. "I am pregnant." She said with as much dignity as she could muster, refusing to allow this man to have that much power over her. "I do not wish to be. I have money." She opened her purse wide enough to reveal the thick wad of cash she had inside it and felt some satisfaction of her own when she saw his eyes widen in obvious avarice.

"Always obliged to help a lady in need," he grinned, all politeness now that she saw how much money she had on her person. "Come on inside."

It was already dark when she stepped into the narrow confines of the shack and the blackness within was illuminated with a dozen candles that revealed a sight that she wished she did not need to see. There were two tables in the room. The smaller of the two contained instruments that did not appear too dissimilar from the ones Julia had seen in Alex's clinic earlier today. They did not appear very clean and her attention was mostly drawn to the basin of bloody water they were immersed within and the flies that buzzed over it. The second table was larger and resembled the examination table of a doctor's office although that was where the similarity ended. It was covered in stains and although the 'doctor' hurried to wipe it clean, it had left an indelible impression in Julia's mind.

"How far along are you?" The man asked as he prepared the examination table for use.

Julia swallowed thickly, cringing at the horror of what was before her and feeling even more apprehensive because she was here on her own volition. "Six weeks, no more."

"Pretty early," he said nodding with approval. "Good. It will be pretty easy to be rid of."

Julia said nothing, unable to explain this constriction in her chest now that the moment of truth was open her. She watched the man going to his instrument table to prepare his tools for the task ahead and wrestled with what she was about to let him do to her. "You'll have to take off your clothes and put on that gown over there." He remarked, unaware of her reservations as he pointed to a nightdress that had been originally white but was now almost yellowed from use.

Still unable to answer, Julia did as instructed and stepped behind the partition of cloth that gave her some measure of privacy as she undressed and slipped on the gown that smelled of blood and sweat. She felt repulsed by having the filthy fabric against her skin and reminded herself that she was here out of choice.

However, even now, Ezra's words came back to haunt her even louder before. She would not endure this alone he had promised and yet here she was, at the edge of dark abyss with no one to stop her from plunging into its depths.

But he had not meant this.

He had meant that braving and even greater challenge, the challenge of having this child on her own. As Julia climbed onto the table, feeling the wood against her back. She began to wonder what this child might be like. She remembered how happy her own childhood had been, how her father had doted on her like she as the most important thing in the world to him. Ezra had said he wanted this baby even though just like her, he was afraid. Suddenly Julia felt ashamed that she had come here alone, without even giving him a vote in this decision she had made. How could he love her if she simply slunk away and did this without his knowledge? He had been willing to overcome his fear to accept what he called the 'best thing they would ever do in their lives'. What if he was right?" What if she was walking away from something that could be truly beautiful without considering the possibility that keeping it might not be as hopeless as she had originally believed?

"I can't do this." She said finally. The words escaped her lips like a splash of ice water on her face.

The man turned around as if he were accustomed to hearing such talk at the ninth hour of the procedure. "Now, now, it ain't nothing to be afraid of."

"No you don't understand," Julia started to climb off the table. "I've changed my mind."

"Listen," he placed a restraining arm on her shoulder. "You've got to calm down. I can't do this otherwise."

"I don't want you to do it!" Julia exclaimed as she tried to break free but for a surprisingly spindly hand, he had a great deal of strength in his grip.

"Now little lady," he said producing a white colored swab of cloth that could have been a handkerchief. It wafted of a strong, acrid smell that made her recoil as he held it to her face. "This will help your nerves a little."

"Please stop it," Julia turned her face as the man grabbed both her wrists with his one hand and held the cloth over her mouth. "I don't wish to do it."

"I ain't walking away from all that money." He replied with a sneer. "You came here for a service and I aim to do it for you. Now you're afraid, it's understandable. I seen plenty of girls doing the same thing in my time and you'll thank me for it when you wake up."

"Thank you?" Julia stared at him in wide-eyed fear when she realized what the solution in the handkerchief would do to her. She tried desperately to break free of him but the contact of rough linen covered her mouth before she could scream to bring help. He held the cloth over her mouth firmly, pressing hard against her lips and mouth as she struggled not to breathe in the noxious fumes. However, his endurance outlasted her ability to hold her breath and with anguish Julia was forced to inhale deeply after almost a minute of resistance.

It affected her almost immediately. Her head begin to swim as she fought to retain her focus. However, the harder she fought, the easier it was to draw breath and very soon she had taken few healthy whiffs of the sedating chemical.

Very soon, Julia could do nothing as her struggles became weaker and her strength sapped from her body almost on a will of its own. She tried to speak but no sound came from her throat as she tried desperately to say the words that would make him stop. However, as the dark started to close in on her, Julia knew she was lost and could do nothing as her mind spiraled into one repeated thought.

This was not how it was supposed to be......

Completely oblivious to what calamity was taking place in his life at this moment, Ezra Standish found his way to the saloon to seek out Chris Larabee in the wake of his meeting with Nicholas Serfonteine. The man's words had disturbed him greatly and he wanted Chris' opinion on whether or not there was cause to worry. Nicholas' offer had the most ominous connotations and Ezra did not doubt that the arrival of his associates would bring nothing but discourse to the township of Four Corners, not if the man was true to his dislike of the way things operated in this town.

Chris was at their usual table with the other five members of their fellowship.

Considering what Nathan had been put through today, the gambler was unsurprised by the healer's absence and had to respect the man's need for privacy, just as his own needs had been. Chris and Vin were drinking, while Buck, J.D. and Josiah were engaged in a game of cards. Somehow, it felt odd not being apart of the game even though he knew this was just the first of the changes his life would soon be enduring.

The usual chorus of greetings came with his arrival at the table and judging by everyone's tone of voice, it appeared that Ezra had been correct about Chris being able to keep his confidence in regards to Julia's present condition.

"Mr. Larabee," Ezra pulled up a chair as he joined his friends at their table. "We may have a problem."

Chris looked up immediately, as did all of them when such words were mentioned. As usual, the others waited for Chris to take the lead before bombarding him with questions on their own. "What sort of problem?"

"I just had a visit from Mr. Serfonteine and we had an interesting conversation." Ezra announced and saw the ripple of dislike showing in all their faces at the mention of that name. He saw mostly relief in Chris' eyes that Nathan was not in the vicinity as the man's restraint was just hanging by a hair's breath in regard to that particular individual.

"What did he want?" Chris asked smoothly, not meeting Ezra's gaze as he refilled his glass.

"He indicated to me that Four Corners was a most colorful locality, if you catch my meaning." Ezra replied, hesitating to use the words that Nicholas had spoken because it still felt odious to remember. A part of him could not believe that he had once thought of people in the same way and still felt shame how he had treated Nathan during their initial encounter. However, much had transpired since that first meeting and now Ezra counted Nathan as one of his closest friends as well as the importance that Inez Rosillios and Alexandra Styles had in his life.

"Colorful?" J.D. asked, not quite understanding what the man could mean by such a term.

"He better not mean what I think he means," Vin said with unconcealed menace in his blue eyes. Anyone making any racial slurs about Alex had better be prepared to back it up with his life because once Vin caught up with them, it would literally come down to that.

"Unfortunately, I think he does." Josiah said with a taut frown. "We do seem to have a multi-cultural community that might be viewed with some distaste by people who seemed to think the purity of the white race should be maintained at all costs."

"Oh Christ," Buck groaned with disgust, glancing at Inez who was currently serving customers with her alluring smile and wondered how anyone could have abhorrence to the beauty of that face simply because her racial extraction was not Caucasian. "That's the kind of nonsense Reverend Mosely was preaching. Share your God with the Indian but not your daughter." He said derisively. "Makes me sick to the stomach."

"What did he say to you Ezra?" Chris questioned, wanting some clarification on what was actually discussed because the issue was obviously a volatile one within this group alone that Chris did not want it to become a point of contention throughout Four Corners.

"He said that he would like to call on my assistance to even the balance so to speak," Ezra replied without hesitation, deeply offended because Serfonteine believed his southern upbringing would allow him to condone such behavior. "He has friends coming to town who would take on a purely advisory role in this undertaking of restoring balance among the decent folk of this town."

"Meaning white." Chris finished off for him and felt his jaw tighten in disgust.

Hadn't they fought a war to settle this nonsense? Chris should have known that not even bloodshed like they had seen in the last war would drive away the seeds of such ingrained beliefs particularly among those who stood to lose most from the Emancipation Act.

"Mr. Larabee," Ezra sighed feeling the need to reveal something he had not spoken off in quite a long time. "About five years ago, I was travelling in South Carolina and I came across a gathering in the dead of night. I don't know what instigated the action or what the poor Negro I saw hanging from a tree had done but I do know that it is a scene I will never forget. I counted at least twenty men all dressed in white and judging from the hands on the reins of their horses, they were all white."

"I think I've heard of this too," Josiah nodded. "Except the group I knew was in Mississippi. I heard this from a black man who had his property burned to the ground by a bunch of men in white sheets."

"What did they do Ezra?" J.D. asked, his young voice almost hushed as he tried to imagine the scene and could not understand this cold chill that ran up his spine at this tale.

"They burned him alive Mr. Dunne," Ezra said softly. "They bathed him in oil and they set him alight."

"Jesus." Vin said softly. He had seen Indians treated with such low regard but nothing that would justify being tortured to death in that way. However, while Indians were considered heathen and barbaric, they were still a race of people. Negroes did not even have that distinction because they were not even considered human.

"All I could do was shoot him." Ezra confessed, remembering how the screams he had heard had kept him awake for numerous nights following that incident. "I was out of sight so I manage to get a good shot and put the poor bastard out of his misery, then I rode hard out of there. A few days later, I made some inquiries and found out that they call themselves the Knights of the White Dragon or in shorter terms, the Klan."

"You think this Klan is coming here?" Buck asked. "That Serfonteine is bringing them to Four Corners to come after Nathan?"

"Not just Nathan." Chris replied, understanding why Ezra was so concerned now. "We've got Chinese men building the railroad not too far from here, we've got a healthy number of Negroes and Mexicans with prominent positions in town. Take Inez," he pointed out. "She's almost runs this place."

"Well I would not put it quite that way," Ezra spoke up slightly miffed at his contribution in the saloon being ignored. "I do play some small part in the day to day functioning of this establishment."

Chris rolled his eyes and continued speaking. "Not to mention none of our own doctors in town are white."

"If anyone goes near Alex, there's going to be hell to pay." Vin stated firmly, with enough threat in his voice to send shivers up all their spines. Vin did not get angry often but his rage made him unpredictable and damn near savage when it was properly provoked.

"We need to stop them before they get here Chris." Buck declared, suddenly afraid for Inez with such men on their way to Four Corners.

"For what?" Chris asked and was about to receive protest from his companions when he quickly cut them off. "Think about it? How do we stop them? Do we arrest them the second they get off the coach? All we know is that Serfonteine went to Ezra for help with very vague inferences. Until they actually do something, all we got is talk and last time I looked, it ain't against the law."

"Mr. Larabee is right." Ezra agreed with the gunslinger. "These men operate in the dark, under masks so that anonymity is guaranteed. We have no reason to run Mr. Serfonteine out of town and we cannot halt these men from coming here so I am afraid we have a situation on the horizon."

"So what do we do?" J.D. looked at his older companions, unable to believe that their hands were tied so completely in the face of this terrible threat.

"We wait and we watch." Chris said grimly, no happier with the situation then J.D. was. He had expected something like this ever since he had learnt that Serfonteine was staying, except he had no idea that even his own instincts could be so in error about how bad the threat would be. "We keep these men under close eye if they arrive and we tell people what to expect. Maybe we can get a handle on things before it gets too much out of hand." Chris made a mental note to speak to Mary of this because she had wider access to the community than all of them. With her newspaper, Mary could raise public awareness to the problem and steal the shadows in which these men preferred to hide. Like a nest of cockroaches, they would only scatter if enough light was shed on them.

"In the meantime," Chris met Ezra's gaze. "Play up this southern connection the man seem to think he has with you. It might be a way to get someone on the inside when the shit finally hits the fan."

"I had planned to," Ezra nodded, agreeing with Chris' suggestion completely. "However, I fear he will not completely confide in me since I was standing on Nathan's side during their little melee in the street."

"I got a suggestion." J.D. cleared his throat and felt intimidated the minute he felt all eyes on him.

"Anything would help at this point," Chris prompted him with encouragement, knowing it was hard for J.D. to exert himself in their company.

"Well I met Serfonteine's sister, Violet." J.D. said cautiously, bracing himself for the inevitable teasing that would follow. "I think she kind likes me."

"Alright J.D.!" Buck slapped him on the back. "I had no idea you were cultivating southern fauna."

"Aw come on Buck!" J.D. protested vehemently. "You know I'm with Casey."

"Shut up Buck," Vin said good-naturedly. "Let the kid talk."

J.D. flashed the tracker a look of gratitude as Buck settled down and allowed him to speak. "I was thinking that maybe I should try and get to know her a little, maybe find out what her brother is up to. She strikes me as the kind of girl who likes to talk to impress people."

"Really?" Chris said stifling a smile wondering if J.D. knew how much he and Violet had in common in that respect. Josiah threw the gunslinger a stern look to keep that observation to himself, feeling protective of J.D.'s youthful esteem."I thought maybe I could sort of get close to her you know, keep my ears open when she talks about what her brother's got planned."

""How close were you planning on getting?" Buck teased before J.D. jabbed him on the shoulder in annoyance.

"It's not a bad idea." Vin agreed despite Buck's juvenile antics. "Always pays to have a backup plan."

"Just don't get too close," Josiah warned. "Serfonteine doesn't strike me as the type who likes a Yankee hanging around his little sister. You're liable to get called out if you get too familiar with the girl."

"Just one question, Mr. Dunne." Ezra asked, eyeing the young man closely because he wanted to see the response as it would not doubt be amusing. "What do you plan on telling the fair Miss Wells about this friendship you will be cultivating with Miss Serfonteine?"

"I don't have to tell Casey anything," J.D. said confidently. "She'll understand when I explain to her when it's all over."

"You think so huh?" Buck grinned as he exchanged glances with all the men at the table who knew the fair sex just a little better and did not have the heart to enlighten their younger companion on what they knew or warn him for that matter.

"Sure, Casey's not the jealous kind." J.D. said without a single clue.

"Absolutely." Ezra nodded with complete innocence.

"Yeah." Chris followed on with a hint of amusement in his intense gaze. "Sure."

"I reckon that's how she'll be." Vin replied with the same neutrality.

"I'm not even touching that." Josiah concluded and decided that there some thing's J.D. was going to have to find out for himself on that troublesome road to being a man.

It was not meant to happen this way.

Julia Pemberton kept thinking that over and over again as she lay on the table, gripped in agony and lying in her own blood. She had opened her eyes when the ether had worn off only to find that the 'doctor' was missing and the filthy table where his instruments had lain was similarly vacated. All presence of him in the shack was missing, except for the soiled nightdress she was still wearing. Her clothes were slung over her shins while she was unconscious and the contents of her purse emptied of the cache of notes it had previously contained. Of course that was only least of her troubles. With consciousness came the awareness of pain and hers arrived in waves of white-hot agony that split her sides from their ferocity. She came to and felt it almost immediately, pulling her knees tight against her abdomen as the first of it hit in exquisite intensity. Julia could hardly breathe for it as she struggled against crying out and then coming to the conclusion that she was alone and so it did not matter if anyone heard or not. She moaned softly as the pain imprinted itself on her mind, until her fists were knotted from it and her eyes were clamped shut as her teeth bit down. It hurt so much and yet Julia could curse none of it because she had brought this upon herself.

The pain confirmed that she was no longer pregnant.

The stickiness in between her legs and the raw sensation of her nether regions more or less confirmed that she had been given the precise procedure for which she had come to Purgatory to receive. She felt the blood beneath her and tried not to weep but the tears came in hot, streams of salt that ran down her cheeks and dampened her red hair. The irony of the whole situation was not lost upon her and she wondered if this was all she truly deserved. She had hated the idea from the beginning, fought tooth and nail against the responsibility that came with a child as well as the implications of marriage. Without telling Ezra, she had ridden to this place and sought out the butcher who had inflicted this pain on her. Why should she feel like a victim?

Because she had said no.

In that last minute, she had thought about Ezra and how hopeful he had been about the baby. He had truly believed they could make it work and she did not doubt that he would remain at her side while they faced this thing together. Julia thought about how earnest he had been in his argument, how truly sincere he had spoken his case and how she had come away from it affected, even though she did not want to admit it. She had ridden all the way to Purgatory with those words plaguing her, demanding that she give the babe inside her a chance to be something.

It was only as she sat on the table and noted the finality of her decision, had she realized that she owed Ezra much more than sneaking away and having their baby discarded without so much as a word to him on the subject. They say a woman's body was her own but when Julia had seen those instruments before her, she knew that she had not fully considered all alternatives. Unless there was one fragment of doubt in her mind as to her course, she should not even be considering such a thing.

However, now it all seemed academic.

The doctor had done his work, no doubt filled with the confidence that he had not forced her against her will into this procedure, probably believing that he had adhered to her wishes and merely ignored her nervousness, not her true desires. Julia clutched her stomach as she cried softly that she could be so foolish and now it was too late because the possibility of life inside her was now taken away irrevocably. Who would believe her if she wanted retribution? Certainly not Ezra. She could imagine his anger and was resigned herself to losing because of this. Somehow, it seemed only fair. She had deserved no less treatment for what she had done.

Julia could not remember how long it was she remained on the table inside that tin shack. She only knew that the lamp oil was starting to burn into exhaustion and soon she would be enveloped in dark. Somehow, she had to get out of here and return to Four Corners. She did not know how she was meant to feel in the wake of such butchery performed on her but she did believe that ought not to be this much pain involved. Gritting her teeth down against each other, she sat up slowly and felt a cry of pain wrenched from her as a result of the action.

It took several minutes following that initial exertion before Julia made the attempt to get dressed and each moment that tumbled by was slow and agonizing. She discarded the filthy nightgown; not wanting to see just how much blood was on it as she slipped on her cleaner clothes. There was a vague course of action in her mind but at present, it was clouded over in her physical limitations. Slowly, she slipped on the various pieces of garment until finally, she was the picture of the respectable lady, as respectable as one could be in these surroundings.

Climbing off the table was another exercise in burning pain as it took all her strength just to remain upright when she finally stepped onto the dirt floor.

Her knees felt weak and Julia took a tentative step forward and almost felt them buckle beneath her. She gripped the table and tried to steady herself before trying again a few minutes later. As she moved towards the door, wanting nothing but to be away from this awful place, her teeth gnashed down as she fought to control the agony tearing through her. She had no idea how she was going to endure the ride back to Four Corners but knew she had to somehow.

Julia entered the open air outside the shack and took greedy gulps of fresh air after the fetid dankness inside the shack. She took deep breaths as she fought to control the pain, knowing that it was vital that she returned home and seek proper medical treatment. She refused to die in this unsavory place and certainly not before she looked Ezra in the eye and tell him with all honesty that she had not meant for this to happen. The chances of his believing her would be remote, Julia was realistic about that but for once in her life she would do the honorable thing and give him the truth she had withheld from him when she had left town.

Julia moved along the dirt track that led back to the heart of Purgatory at a snail's pace. She could hear in the distance, the sounds of men reveling in drunker behavior amidst the sound of gunshots on occasion intermingling with riotous laughter and loud voices, completely unconcerned about proper modes of behavior. She understood how dangerous it was for her to be here and felt some consolation in knowing that she could not endure any worse at their hands then what she already had. Her movements were ginger and fraught with the danger of collapse at any moment and yet Julia kept to the shadows, hoping to avoid being accosted as she returned to her horse.

She had not gotten very far into the heart of what was 'working girl' country in Purgatory when a rather drunk man came up to her with too much liquor on his breath and something on his mind that she was in no way capable of accommodating.

"You're a pretty filly." He grinned and looked over his shoulder. "Hey Lydia!" He called out.

The madam of that particular section of Purgatory glanced over from her tent at the man as Julia tried desperately to get by him, only to have his considerable bulk bar her way. She had not the strength to fight him but neither was she willing to let him touch her. "Take your hands of me Sir." She said trying to inject as much danger in her wavering voice.

"You're a spirited thing," he sneered and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her abdomen tight against him. "I like that."

The agony that came from his grip almost made Julia loose consciousness as she let out a cry and almost drop to her knees. He let her go; realizing that she was not engaged in some performance but in genuine pain. By this time, Lydia had recognized Julia as not being in her stable of girls and hurried to confront this trespasser. It did not take the woman long to see who she was. Lydia had made enough trips into town and the new Emporium to know who Julia Pemberton was.

One of her employees, a younger girl named Melody had told Lydia how she had been in the establishment and was refused service because of what she was.

Melody had been about to leave when the owner Julia Pemberton had come to offer her apologies and then personally wait on the young girl. Lydia had remembered being impressed with the gesture and now as she saw Julia Pemberton clearly in pain, knew she was in similar need of assistance.

"Miss Pemberton?" Lydia exclaimed in surprise and then look at the man. "Leon, this ain't a working girl. Betty!" She looked over her shoulder and called a brunette trying unsuccessfully to entice a man into her tent. "Can you take Leon?"

"Sure Lydia." Betty's cheerful voice responded.

"You go on now Leon," Lydia smiled in her best business voice. "Betty will take care of you. Leave me to tend to this."

Leon was more than happy to depart and hurried away from the scene as Lydia took Julia by the arm. "What are you doing here Miss Pemberton? This ain't no place for a lady."

"I'm not a lady." Julia grunted, grateful for the help as Lydia led her to a nearby tent. "I went to see the doctor on the hill." She gestured to the shack in the distance.

Lydia saw where she was looking and understood immediately what had happened. "You didn't let that quack touch you, did you?" She asked, having heard stories of how the man had maimed some girls so badly that their child rearing days would never be a problem again. Sometimes, he almost killed them with his filthy instruments and his unscrupulous behavior to get the job done and be paid, no matter what the risks to his patient.

"I didn't," Julia confessed in a mild stupor of pain. "But he did it anyway, even though I told him I changed my mind. No way is Ezra going to believe that story." She muttered as fresh tears came down her cheek.

"Now don't you think that," Lydia said soothingly. "I know Ezra Standish and he's a lot more sensitive than you think."

Somehow, Julia did not believe her.

"So how is Nathan?" Mary asked when she and Alex had met to have dinner together later that evening. On occasion, when the men in their lives were otherwise occupied for the evening, the two professional women of Four Corners sometimes shared supper together. Unfortunately, as much as they would have liked Inez's company on this occasions, the pretty bartender was otherwise engaged at the saloon and could find no way to join them. On this particular evening, Alex and Mary were appraising each other on the events that had transpired during the day and the hot topic seemed to be Nathan Jackson.

"Understandably upset." Alex sighed. "He really wants to go after Serfonteine."

"I would not blame him." Mary could empathize with the healer's feelings, even though she was far from understanding it completely. "I remember when I was younger before the war, we had abolitionists screaming that slave practice was evil and unchristian. My mother called it that 'southern unpleasantness' although father was a strong advocate for slave rights. He championed the cause most vocally in his paper much to my mother's chagrin. I never thought about it until I started reading some of the accounts by runaway slaves and then it just frightened me so terribly because I could not believe people could be so cruel."

"I am fortunate." Alex admitted. "My father never liked America enough in those days to visit. He had seen enough of slavery in other countries and the American variety seemed to be particularly brutal. My closest brush with such prejudice comes from my father's family."

"How awful." Mary exclaimed, unable to imagine any family shunning Alexandra Styles with all she had manage to accomplish in her life.

"My mother was an Indian dancer," Alex confessed, remembering the soft hands that use to glide expressively in her earliest memories, laden with heavy jewelry and seem to perform a dance in the skilled movements of her digits. "My father fell in love with her even though it was not very proper. His family ostracized him for it even though they did not have the heart to disown him."

"I take it you've never met them?" Mary asked.

"No," Alex shook her head in response. "In truth, I don't wish to." It was not wrong to say she had a kind of family in Four Corners, dysfunctional as it was. What need did she have of blue blooded snobs in England who would never see her as anything but a half-caste usurper? "I've learn to do without them over the years and I'm used to it."

"I hope that's not true of Billy." Mary sighed. "I never want him to become used to being without me." The widow sighed as they approached the hotel in the distance.

"That's right," Alex replied, remembering Mary's news earlier that she and Chris had finally decided to set a date on their somewhat lengthy engagement. "You're bringing Billy home soon aren't you?"

"Yes," Mary answered, unable to hide the smile of delight on her face as she thought of her son who had been absent from her life for too long. "I'm so looking forward to having him home permanently. It's been so long Alex, I missed so much of his growing up."

When she had sent him away after the death of his father, Mary had done so because the boy had been suffering terrible nightmares that plagued his sleep relentlessly. She had guessed that it had something to do with Billy being in the house at the time Steven was killed, although she had always prayed that he had no seen the murder itself. It was not until Billy had returned home and Chris had managed to coax him out of his shell to finger Steven's murderers that the boy's bad dreams finally relented and gave him peace. However, Four Corners was still unsafe in Mary's opinion and learning how trusted friends had been Steven's assailants made Mary reluctant to bring Billy home when even friendly faces hid unseen killers.

"So very soon, you're not going to only have Billy at home but Chris too." Alex pointed out pleased that things were moving forward for Mary Travis. It was about time that she and Chris cemented their relationship anyway, there was not too people in the world more suited for each other and somehow the pretty blond was capable of doing the impossible by making Chris Larabee partially tolerable. In Alex's opinion alone, Mary deserved some kind of happiness for all her trouble.

"Yes," Mary let out a deep breath, wondering what hurdles would lie before her in light of that change in her life. "It will be interesting to say the least. Setting up house with a gunslinger, whatever would my mother say?"

"Actually," Alex found herself teasing. "I would like to put forward my request to be present when your mother does come to visit. I have got to be there the first time she sees Chris."

Mary looked at her with a slight frown. "You have a wicked sense of humor."

"You better believe it," Alex laughed. "Incidentally are you going to do anything about his clothes?" She taunted and Mary knew she was not referring to Billy.

Mary folded her arms and looked at Alex with a sarcastic look of her own. "I'll do something about Chris' clothes when I see you get that jacket off Vin."

"Touche." Alex winced in mock defeat. "I concede defeat. I couldn't even get that jacket off him if I had to have it surgically removed."

Anything that Mary was about to say was interrupted when she saw Julia Pemberton riding down the street on a horse. Even from where she was, the woman's pallor was such a state that it immediately gave her cause for concern. She could tell that Julia was barely managing to stay in the saddle and the grimace on her face hid real pain. The horse was moving slow pace as if its rider could not endure anything more strenuous. The tension in the young woman's jaw, revealed that she was biting down from the pain and immediately, the newspaperwoman stepped off the boardwalk.

"What is it?" Alex asked following her gaze and then realizing with dismay what Mary was looking at. If Mary could detect the visible signs of Julia's injuries then what Alex saw sent her running. In seconds, she had overtaken Mary in their approach to the animal.

As Alex neared Julia and saw the pain in her face, she knew instantly what had happened, that her worst fears had been confirmed. It was sixth sense that told Alex what happened and immediately, the doctor felt a swell of guilt emerge from inside her the likes of which she had never known. Even when she had administered the fatal dose of curare to Randall Mason, did Alex feel regret like she did now as she stared into Julia's flushed face. Alex was forced to remember that only a few short hours ago, she was in a position to prevent the injury Julia had willingly submitted to.

"What did you do?" Alex hissed quietly as she reached the horse and pulled the reins.

"It's gone now." Julia saw almost detached. The expression in her eyes was unreadable.

"What's happening?" Mary asked, arriving in the middle of this and not quite understand what she was missing in this enigmatic conversation.

Alex did not answer and felt her stomach hollow as she helped Julia down from the horse and saw the blood that had seeped in from her saddle. "How long ago?" She asked shortly, aware that the town was watching this little drama play itself out on the main street.

"A few hours maybe." Julia responded. Her words were slurred and Alex knew she was going into shock from all the blood lost. "He knocked me out first."

"I don't understand. ." Mary started to speak when Alex cut her off.

"Mary, please find Ezra and bring him to my clinic and then I'll need your help." She said firmly. "Please, I can't explain now."

Mary wanted to know now what was transpiring because she too had seen the blood on Julia's saddle. However the urgency in Alex's eyes made her quash that burning curiosity for the moment and the widow nodded. "Alright, you get her to the clinic." Mary nodded. "I'll bring Ezra and meet you there."

"Thank you." Alex said gratefully. "We're going to need your help."

TO BE CONTINUED