KC sat on the edge of the bed, her body ached while she attempted to stand. She stared at herself in the mirror, the bandage that covered her abdomen was clean. Freshly changed she guessed, looking around the room she wondered where her shirt was, and found it across the room laying on the back of a chair. Her guns were missing. As she moved over to the chair that held her shirt, holding her stomach in a vain attempt to stop the pain that streaked through her. Grabbing her shirt, she thrust one arm into the sleeve gingerly before working the other one in. She never heard the man standing in the doorway, until he had clamped his arms around her trim waist, pinning her arms at her sides.
"Your not holding your part of the bargain," the familiar voice rasped in her ear, the smell of whiskey fouled breath reached her nostrils.
"Let me go," KC demanded without betraying the pain and fear that she felt. She knew her capabilities and knew what a strong man could do to her slight frame, had he the desire to hurt her.
"She left town an hour ago, you best get on with your duties," the man said quietly through clenched teeth before shoving her forward and slipping out the door.
KC laid on the floor curled in a ball, clenching her teeth to bite back the pain, that threatened to bring blackness over her world again. If I just lie here for a while this will all stop, she thought to herself, It'll pass. It's got to pass, I gotta go. Her thoughts trailed as she forced herself into a sitting position and finished putting on her shirt. Trying to place the voice with no luck. Whoever it was it didn't matter she knew the man had been talking about Lily.
She pushed herself off the floor and walked none to gracefully down the stairs. Wincing with ever step. In the saloon she could see Terrence sitting calmly at a table counting some money, he barely gave KC a side ways glance. She would have been surprised if he had even knew she was in the room. Stepping outside she leaned in the doorway for a moment taking in the bright sunlight. Taking a breath she moved out of the doorway, her destination the livery. No better way to heal than a nice brisk ride, she thought sarcastically as she went.
"Hey Casey," she heard a stranger call her name and turned her head to look in the direction of the voice. The man was a tall slim, black man. His large eyes showing concern, and she wondered why he would care. There was no point wasn't it her and her kind that had killed so many of his, tore him from his family. Gritting her teeth she kept walking to the barn, as he caught up. "Hey, What are you doing out of bed," his question was simple.
"Gotta job to do," she stated plainly.
"Ma'am-" was all he got out before KC had turned on him wrapping one hand around his thin throat, her eyes which had once been thoughtful and nonthreatening were now hard and glassy, her movements stiff and methodical. She forced him to the ground, with just the one hand, her grip pressing firmly not to cut off his breathing, but his blood flow to the brain. She watched his eyes grow wide, he was scared. He made no move to stop her, or to even break loose, this surprised KC.
"You tell a living soul," she started in a whisper near his ear, her voice tight and strained, "and I'll snap your neck like a twig under my boot," she paused long enough for her promise to sink in, "Now get away from me boy." She jerked her hand away from his neck, and again headed on to the livery as if nothing had happened. Leaving Nathan there to watch her disappearing, as he rubbed his neck where her bear trap grip had held him.
Vin had watched the scene from afar. Smiling he sauntered over to Nathan, "Wha'd ya tell him, to get that reaction," Vin asked with a chuckle, and a curious eye watching as the saloons newest helper disappeared into the livery.
"Nothin'," Nathan told Vin before walking toward the saloon. Wondering what was with that woman, and why she was so scared to be found out.
Ezra shivered uncontrollably, his teeth chattered, while his leg had gone numb hours ago. No one was going to miss him until tomorrow. Twisting his head around he could see his chestnut horse calmly cropping fresh green grass in the distance. Your no help you ungrateful beast, he thought begrudgingly wishing that the animal had taken off back to town. Turning back to his former position, he could feel his eye lids getting heavier. Looking at his hands he noticed that his fingernails were no longer the peach color, but more of a bluish. He knew he had to get out of the water, as his eyes started to betray him.
I'm dead, Ezra thought as he lay half conscious. He could no longer feel the swift flow of water. I'm in hell, his mind panicked when he realized he was feeling heat, I'm buried and I'm in hell, he thought wondering why his friends wouldn't have told him. He tried to shuffle away, when the weight on him started to stroke his hair, "Shh, lay still. Your gonna be alri'gh'. Lay still."
Ezra snapped his eyes open and stared at the face above him. It was the southern boy that was working at the saloon. But this wasn't a boy. "Your that boy working in the saloon. . . aren't you," he asked nervously.
Sitting up KC tossed her confederate jacket over the man, as she nodded and proceeded to get dressed again. She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep while trying to warm the fallen man. She watched him as he sat up keeping his lap covered with the jacket.
"Where is my attire," he asked curiously.
"Drying by the fire," he looked where the b - woman had pointed.
His clothes were hung nicely over a stretched out lariat, that ran over the fire keeping the clothes just out of reach of the burning wood. He looked as his leg, "You seem to know some of the medical profession." KC only shook her head, and stared at the fire as it danced before her. "I thought you were of the masculine sex," Ezra said quietly, trying to make conversation, happy that he wasn't buried and in hell.
KC shot him a hard glance, "Keep it that way."
"May I perchance inquire as to why?"
"Better for your. . . well being," she told him quietly.
Ezra chuckled nervously, "I'm meaning as to why you mascarade as a man. After all," He thought about what he had seen of her, "you really are quite fetching, if I do say so myself." There was no mistaking the nervous shuffle she did as she pushed herself off the ground, he noticed her wince with the effort. "How's the wound healing?"
"Just fine, I'm going to check on the horses," She told him before escaping from his questioning. He watched as she ran her hands along the horses legs, making sure that each was still in fine condition. The firelight danced over her body, he watched as the woman paused to lean on the back of the bay she was riding. She held that position for a long while before she returned back to the spot she had left. Sitting with one leg out in front of her and the other bent so her right arm could casually rest on her knee. Her fingers played with a stick momentarily, before throwing it into the fire. Eyes never leaving the dancing beast before her.
Ezra wondered what she was thinking, but didn't dare to ask. He watched as he jaw clenched and unclenched, as her thoughts wandered. "I see you served in the war," he finally dared to speak. She stole a sideways glance at him that told him he best keep his mouth shut, but he wasn't going to take a hint on this one. He wanted to understand this bearcat.
The sheriffs office was alive, Chris stood at the doorway ready to leave. "Leave the prodigal son, and he shall return home," Josiah stated quietly keeping his eyes on the stick he had been whittling.
"Josiah's right, you know Ezra ain't one to stick to anything if it don't deal with gaining him money," Vin tried to defend the fact that they needed to stay in town incase some trouble started.
"I'm going you guys stay here, I know the route he was taking-"
"And what if he didn't follow that route, what if he went to another town, or even found some poor travelers to swindle out of their money," Vin continued interrupting Chris in mid sentence. The hazel eyed man knew Vin was right, yet he felt he had to do something, anything. Even if the night hindered his ability to find the wayward gambler.