Title: Family Tries

Authour: Tess and En

Rating: PG-13

AU type: Closed

AU idea: A subdued Maude comes to Four Corners after a con goes horribly wrong. An answer to my 'scene' challenge.

Warnings: this story deals with the aftermath of a rape, the emotional toll and a physical one that has far-reaching consequences. THE ACT ITSELF IS NEVER DESCRIBED. "The sins of the fathers should not be visited up on the children" is the theme of this tale.

Family Tries
by Enola and Tess

She stepped off of the stagecoach into Four Corners without a word. No imperious commands to mind her expensive luggage -- she carried just one simple carpetbag. No parasol to twirl or gloves to fuss with, she wore a plain gingham dress. No makeup graced her features, which were still beautiful without it, and her blonde-gray hair was loose around her shoulders. But the strangest thing of all was the look of fear in Maude Standish's eyes.

She moved to the hotel and signed in "MaryAnn Simpson", then went to her room, curled up on the bed, and tried to think of a way out of this... this predicament.

Why'd she come to Four Corners anyway? Her son was here....he'd find out for certain.....Her brain whirling, Maude fell to sleep.

Vin came into the saloon and straight over to Ezra's table. "Hey," he said softly.

"Good evening Mr. Tanner. Care to join me for a drink?"

"I need t'talk t'ya. Alone."

"Certainly. Excuse me gentlemen, lady." With an urbane nod, Ezra moved away from the table and followed Vin outside.

Not mincing any words, once they were away from people, Vin said, "Ez, yer ma's in town. I seen her get off the stage."

"Oh lord... Give me strength..." Ezra looked heavenward, and then rubbed his temples. "What sort of a pitiful mark has she dangling from her skirt tail this time?"

"That's just it. She didn't have one. She was in a plain red gingham dress -- just th' one bag. Ez, she looked scared outta her mind. Almost like she's on th'run."

"Somehow, I wouldn't be surprised. I've always told her that her sins would come to roost one day." He heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Where has she taken refuge?"

"I seen her go into the hotel. I wanna help if I can."

"And so you may. Watch the premises, please, and take note of which way she heads, if she makes a break for it? I'm going to go on over and see what occasions this unusual appearance of maternal turmoil."

Vin nodded and moved to an arboreal perch.

~*~

The hotel desk clerk looked up and smiled. "Well, hello, Mister Standish! How may I help you?" He was new in town, had never met Maude.

"There was a certain lady that checked in a bit earlier, fair haired, red dress... I need to speak with her on a matter of some importance. What is her room number, please?"

He looked through the ledger. ".....the only woman's name here, sir, is a Miss Simpson. Mary Ann Simpson. Would that be her?"

"That would be the very one," he agreed, a vulpine smile crossing his lips. Mary Anne Simpson-- the name his mother always used when she had a yen to go slumming.

"Room 312 -- the one on the corner facing Main Street."

"Thank you, sir..." Ezra quickly climbed the stairs, and rapped briskly on the door. "Housekeeping, M'am!" he called, in a midwestern twang.

Maude woke at the knock and the call. "Ju---Just a minute!" she called, cursing the fearful tremble in her voice as she stood up and scrubbed at her tear-stained face.

Ezra stepped away from the door, just enough to force Maude to open it all the way to get a look at him.

She opened the door just a crack. "Yes?"

"Fresh towels, Ma'am..."

"Le...leave them outside....thank you, I'll g-get them in a few minutes..."

Now he knew something was very wrong. "Mother," he said softly, deftly inserting a foot in the door and leaning his shoulder against it for good measure. "Mother, why are you here?"

She let out an animalistic wail and tried to close the door swiftly.

He was too strong for that, though, and forced his way in. Ezra shoved the door closed with a slight kick, and took hold of her upper arms. "Mother, please-- what's wrong?" The annoyance in his voice had changed to genuine concern.

She sagged against her son and held onto his lapels, crying the first genuine tears he'd ever seen from her. She was radiating helpless fear and torment -- all barriers down for the first time in her life.

Shocked, he hesitated a second, then, wrapped his arms around her, patting her shaking back a bit awkwardly. "There, there Mother," he murmured, leading her to the small divan that sat against the wall. "Is it really as bad as all that?"

"I'm...pr--pr....."

Ezra handed her his handkerchief, and his hip flask. "Take a sip, Mother dear, it will help settle your nerves."

She shook her head. "I ... I can't, Ezra...." She met his eyes. "It... it might...hurt the child."

He blinked, "Pardon me... but did you say.. the child?" He glanced around the room as if some runny nosed anklebiter might materialize from behind some piece of the furnishings.

She nodded and burst into tears again, her hands enfolding her lower abdomen in an unmistakable way.

"Oh Mother... no..."

She sobbed and stood up, lurching toward the bed. "Just leave me be, Ezra...."

"Absolutely not! What sort of son-- what sort of MAN, would I be, to leave you alone and helpless in this time of distress and need?" He followed, and laid a hand on her hair, more as a brother would his sister, than how a son would touch his mother.

"You'll only be in trouble yourself...I just came here to rest until I can move on..."

"Now, why would taking care of my mother, and my unborn sibling, cause me trouble?" he asked in a soft, kind voice. He picked up the quilt folded at the foot of the bed and spread it over her.

Her eyes closed and as she slid to sleep, she murmured, "....cause the father's......tracking me down...... wants me.....prostitu....." And she was out, exhaustion and lack of food catching up to her.

Ezra didn't understand what she meant, but he understood what she said, and his green eyes narrowed with righteous rage. She hadn't been anyone's ideal of a good mother-- or even a good woman, but she was his mother, and she was a pregnant woman-- and anyone that intended to do her harm would have to go straight through the middle of Ezra Patrick Standish to do it!

He stood there for a full ten minutes before it registered that Vin had materialized in the room seemingly from nowhere and was silently regarding him.

"One day, you're going to get shot, playing phantom like that," he growled to the tracker.

Vin smiled. "But not today. Window's open," he nodded to the paned hole. "Heard a little o'that --- what can I do?"

"Not much we can do, I suppose, other than watch over her, and do our best to keep her from bolting."

He nodded. "I'll git Nathan t'check her out -- if'n she IS pregnant, her body'll tell him."

"Fine, but I am certain she is. Mother was always extremely wary of pregnancy, after I came along and almost spoiled her figure for life..."

"Would that be why she's so shook?"

"That, and apparently, the liaison that led to her current condition wasn't... consenting."

Vin growled. "That's awful. Not even she deserved that."

"No, she didn't. Not even the lowest whore deserves that..." He glanced back at the sleeping woman, and his normally inscrutable expression flickered into one of sympathetic pain.

Vin squeezed his shoulder. "I'll gather the others --- we'll get to the bottom of this."

"Thank you, Vin... I'll be down shortly."

He nodded and slid out the window back into the tree.

Ezra paced the length of the worn, imitation Persian carpet several times, before he regained enough composure to leave the room. He locked the door and pocketed the key. He exited the hotel to find Vin leaning against the support pole on the boardwalk, talking to the other five in clipped, hushed tones.

He saw the thunderclouds on Chris's face -- for once, echoed on Buck's.

"As we all seem to be on the same page, and in agreement," he began, "Are there any notions as to how to handle this situation?"

"Find the bastard," Buck ground out. "And castrate him."

"Then put a bullet in his heart," Chris finished.

Green eyes glittered like emeralds in winter ice. "Once again, you gentlemen have read my very thoughts."

Nathan then said, "What about the child, though?"

"That child will be my brother, or my sister. I'll see that it's properly reared, by someone that will give it a loving home."

Six nodded in agreement. Nathan then mounted the stairs to the clinic. "I'll check her out."

"Thank you, Nathan. I'll go with you, in case she has regained enough spirit to kick up a fuss."

When Nathan emerged an hour later, he was grim. "She's due mid-summer."

"How is she, in spirits?" Josiah asked softly, glancing up towards the window of her room.

"Broken. She won't talk hardly. She keeps crying, holding Ezra's hand -- perhaps she'll open up t'you, Josiah."

"I'll pay a call in the morning... give her a night to rest and gather her thoughts, somewhat."

Nathan nodded. "That poor woman."

"When she left here, like a larcenous peacock, I admit I hoped she'd get what she had coming to her. Feel pretty small, now that I get to see that hope played out," Chris admitted.

Vin squeezed his shoulder. "We all do," he said gently.

Buck rubbed his eyes. "Damn..... funny -- all I can see is my ma up in that room."

"Yeah, I think we're all kinda feeling that way."

~*~

Maude opened her eyes to the smell of food. "....what..."

"Good morning, mother. I had breakfast sent up for you. I do hope your preferences for that meal haven't changed," Ezra greeted her smoothly, as he settled a bed tray over her lap, and arranged the pillows comfortably behind her back.

She blinked at him, then smiled and ate slowly, carefully. "Thank you, Ezra...."

"You're welcome, Mother."

A knock came on the door. Maude's eyes widened in fright.

A quick flick of Ezra's arm sent his derringer into his hand. "Who's there?" he called gruffly.

"It's me, son," Josiah said softly.

Ezra opened the door, then. "Come in, Josiah. Mother, I believe you met Mr. Sanchez during your last visit to our fair city?"

She looked at him. "Yes....the preacher...." her poker face was trying to come on, but it wasn't working. After a long silence, she asked Ezra, "Would you mind leaving the room, son? I... I've a confession to attend."

"As you wish, Mother..."

Josiah took his hand. "If this is about what happened, I think he should be here."

Ezra hesitated in the doorway, and looked towards his mother.

She trembled....but nodded.

He came back, and took a chair just outside her line of sight. He wanted her to not feel uncomfortable, with his eyes on her, as she spoke to Josiah.

Softly, she told a story that would be entirely unbelievable coming from anyone else. Attempting the "St Louis Con" -- marrying an elderly gentleman then waiting for him to die so she could inherit the money -- then it going horribly wrong. She'd awoken with him dead beside her all right -- a knife protruding out of his chest. At this, she paused and tried to gather herself together.

"Oh, Mother... how terrible for you," Ezra breathed, moving to put comforting arms around her.

"I didn't do it -- I swear, I didn't!" She sighed and shivered. "But my reputation preceded me -- and I was arrested, tried....convicted. I was telling the gospel truth for the first time in my life-- and I wasn't believed!"

"You... were convicted?" Ezra stammered. "Mother! Why didn't you contact me?"

"Wasn't time..... on a stage to prison next day....made a deal with a guard to escape.....he did his part, I tried to run without......he caught me...." she sobbed.

Ezra groaned in understanding sympathy, and cradled her close, bending his body over her in instinctive protectiveness.

"......told me.....'m old....but I'd do....well enough......he wants t-t-t-to make me a-a-a-a......" She shivered. "I r-ran......st-stole this dress....."

"Shhh... shhh... It's all right... you're safe, now... shhh... " he soothed, as Josiah laid a gentle hand on her blonde hair.

"He'll f-find me! When I...when I m-missed, I thought it was the Change....but th-then I got i-ill....and it missed ag-again...Ezra, I'm so confused! I don't know what to DO!"

"You'll rest, and ease your mind, that's what you'll do," he soothed. "I'll speak to Judge Travis-- I'm sure, under the circumstances, he will not hesitate to grant you a pardon-- especially since you are not guilty of the crimes of which you are accused!"

"Are you sure?" she whispered.

"I'm certain of it. Now, Mother, you must calm your nerves... Agitation is harmful, in your condition, I understand."

She nodded and tried to calm herself, but it was a losing battle.

Ezra simply held her close, instinctively rocking with her, as if she were a small child, rather than his parent.

Maude eventually fell into a troubled sleep.

Days turned into weeks, and a fortnight later, Judge Travis telegraphed that he would be in Four Corners in another week's time, and he'd hear Maude's case then.


Maude rarely left her room in the Hotel, despite Ezra's urgings that she needed fresh air and sunshine. She was showing slightly by now, and the shame ate at her. She had even begun to refuse food.

"Mother! You MUST eat! For your sake, as well as the child's! I warn you, if I must, I shall station myself inside this room, and feed you myself!"

She began to eat, just so he wouldn't carry out his threat. *So much for starving the babe...*

He watched her consume the meal with unenthusiastic precision. "Mother," he said softly, taking the other chair, and her free hand. "Mother, I know bearing this child is far from a desirable occupation, in your eyes-- but please... don't injure yourself, or the babe. You, and this child, are the only family I have in this world-- and that makes both of you of priceless value, to me."

She met his earnest eyes and shook her head. "You won't think that when you see the babe," she said, finishing her meal and turning her back on him.

"Why do you say that?" he moved to put his hands on her shoulders. "To my mind, that's most likely when I shall become irrevocably attached!"

But she would say no more. She would only weep.

"Mother... what is it? You can tell me..."

She shook her head and refused to talk. For the next few days she spoke very, very little.

Then Judge Travis came into town.


The hearing didn't take long-- Judge Travis had reviewed the records on her case on the stage to Four Corners. Maude walked out of the courtroom a free woman.

Eight weeks passed --- two more months of agonizing silence and sequestion. Maude was more and more depressed, and her swelling belly only added to it. She refused to say anything about the father, about the horrid circumstances -- she'd said enough, she figured.

Ezra could bully her into a short, morning perambulation up and down the sidewalk of the little town, but that was the only time she appeared in public... and even then, she wore an uncharacteristic poke bonnet, that hid her down turned face.

At night, she would cry herself to sleep. "How the mighty have fallen," she burst out one night into her twenty-second week. "I hear them talk, I see them stare and point!"

"No, Mother-- they don't. Truly, they don't!"

"Don't LIE to me, boy!" she cried, shattering a glass in her anger. Then, her eyes widened as she saw the sharp edges. As if in a dream, her hand moved toward one of the largest pieces.

"No!" he caught her wrist, his eyes huge in a face gone pasty. "Mother... no.."

"Ezra, son..." her voice was the old Maude's now -- cajoling, swindling. "It's truly for the best this way."

"Absolutely NOT!" he barked, sweeping the glass into his upturned hat-- unaware that he cut his hand in the process. "Mother, I am ashamed to see this cowardice in you! I admit you have your faults, but I never numbered craven cowardice among them!"

"Cowardice has nothin' to DO with it!" she barked. "This child is an abomination and it would be best for it and for me if it died in the womb!"

"HOW can an innocent, unborn child be an ABOMINATION?!! It's conception was abominable, but even you, in your current distress, can surely not believe that the child is at fault! The babe had no more choice in being conceived than you had in being raped!"

"It is a product of RAPE, Ezra! Conceived from HATE! From VIOLENCE! What kind of ANIMAL do you think comes OUT of that?"

"So, you're intent on making the child pay for the sins of the sire?"

She slammed her hand on the footboard. "I am TRYIN' to save the WORLD from another BASTARD with EVIL in it's SOUL! I was LUCKY with you, Ezra --- lightnin' doesn't strike TWICE!"

He flinched backwards as if he'd been struck full in the face. "Thank you, Mother, for finally filling me in on the details of my birth," he snarled. "You WILL have this child, and you WILL not harm yourself, or it. Do I make myself PERFECTLY clear?"

"Go to hell."

"Most likely. But not till I see this child safely born and cared for."

She made an exasperated sound and fell onto the bed, all but spent. "Fine, fine."

"It's only a little while longer, after all-- then you can do as you please and be damned, if you like."

"Leave me be, Ezra.... I promise I'll be good."

"Forgive me, Mother, if I choose to rely on long experience, and not put much stock in the worth of your promises." He sat down on the worn divan, and wrapped his handkerchief around his bleeding hand.

"You're bleeding....."

"Yes, I cut my hand, sweeping away the glass. It's of no importance."

She got up and moved to his side. "It is to me. Let me see."

He held out his hand to her, almost reluctantly.

"It's not too bad....perhaps Doctor Jackson should look at it."

"I'll have him do so."

"Ezra...please....." Tears were in her eyes. "Please just let me alone. I will NOT harm myself."

"I hope you will keep your word on it..." He cupped her cheek with his uninjured hand. "Mother, despite our differences through the years, you are very dear to me. I do not want to lose you."

"You're a good boy." She kissed his cheek tenderly. "I love you." She climbed into bed and pulled the coverlet over herself. "I will stay here until you come back."

"I'll bring dinner... we'll dine together."

She nodded and closed her eyes.


~*~

Three more weeks passed, and what Maude had blurted out was eating at Ezra. Finally, Chris ordered him on morning patrol with Vin. Josiah had failed to get what was bothering him out, and Chris hoped Vin might be able to. They rode in silence, till Vin asked bluntly "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing at all... chilly for this time of year, isn't it?" Ezra hunched his shoulders inside his jacket, and refused to meet his companion's candid blue gaze.

"Not really." Vin sighed. "You're usually more -- what's the word? -- VERBOSE than this."

"As I'm sure you'll understand, I have quite a lot to preoccupy my mind, in recent days."

"I understand.... but I also think somethin' else happened. Th' day you cut yer hand, ya got quieter'n me."

"Yes, well, that day I had another bit of information laid at my feet to deal with."

Another few moments of silence, then, "My ma used t'say if ya gotta deal, best t'deal with a friend."

"Well, not to impugn the wisdom of your mother, this is something that I can not see as being lightened by being shared."

"Chris threatened t'shoot yer ass if ya didn't start talkin'."

"The great stone face, upset because I have ceased my "infernal yammering?" It surely must be a sign of the end of the age..."

"Wouldn't be surprised." Another few minutes. "So?"

"So?" he echoed back, urging Chaucer to a slightly more spritely pace.

"Come on, Ez."

A put-upon sigh. "Oh, fine. I can see I'm going to be treated to the water-on-stone technique, otherwise!" He stared straight ahead, and a muscle in his jaw began to jerk. "Mother informed me that I, too, was the product of a rape. I suppose that explains her lack of maternal tenderness, quite nicely."

Vin breathed a soft, "Oh, God...." but other than that, did not respond verbally. He did, however, ease Peso close enough that he was able to reach over and squeezed Ezra's knee supportively. His eyes were kind, as they always had been.

"And," Ezra looked over at him, "From Mother's actions, I am certain this infant will prove to be of mixed race. She... she has had thoughts of suiciding, to prevent its birth, and further shame to herself."

Vin shook his head. "Ain't no shame in bein' two races."

"You are in the distinct minority of humanity holding that opinion, Mr. Tanner."

Vin's blue eyes regarded him seriously. "Will ya hate the baby if it's mulatto?"

"Of course not! It is my own flesh and blood, regardless of the other half of the child's parentage!" He rode on a few more strides, before adding softly, "And lord knows, I won't be the first southerner with a cream-colored sibling..."

A long pause, then Vin softly said, "I don't know who my daddy is, either."

"Well, shall we form the Benevolent Fellowship of Nameless Bastards? Promoting the removal of a stigma that the bearer thereof had no control over acquiring?" Ezra's laugh was a bit tight.

Vin's smile was gentle. "Sounds good t'me. You, me, Buck, JD an' Nathan."

"Poor Josiah and Chris shall be excluded," Ezra laughed, more relaxed, this time. "Perhaps we can grandfather Chris in however, on the clause that he certainly ACTS like a bastard, the majority of the time!"

That made Vin laugh. "Think we'll keep that t'ourselves.....don' wanna get shot!"

This time, Ezra's laugh was completely unrestrained.

When it died down, Vin said in all seriousness, "We'll help ya, Ez. All o'us. Ya don't gotta do any o'this alone."

"Thank you, Vin... I'm sure I'll have occasion to call on your assistance."

"Lookin' forward to it." And he rode on.


~*~
Maude woke to the uncomfortable feeling that she had to use the privy. Again.

When she stood up, to pull the chamber pot out from under the bed, a rush of warm fluid splattered onto the floor. Then the first pain hit with the force of a fist. "EZRA!!"

He came racing in and she wailed, "It's coming!"

"Oh LORD! Mother... lay down... I'll go get Nathan!" Easing her onto the mattress, Ezra fled, his coat tails flying.

She panted, trying to keep the wails inside.

Ezra reappeared quickly, with Nathan and Mary in tow. "Mother..." he was sweating and pale as she, and his hands shook as he took hers.

Five hours later, she was still labouring. She glared at Ezra. "YOU...didn't give me....this much ... TROUBLE!"

His mouth opened, and shut, a few times, and he looked helplessly towards Nathan.

"Women talk out of their heads in labour, it's normal," Nathan reassured him.

With a nod, and slightly relieved expression, Ezra went back to bathing Maude's face with cool water, and trying to ignore how far her fingernails were sinking into his hand with each contraction. He figured, by the time the baby put in an appearance, they'd be meeting through his palm.

"The head's comin'!" Nathan cried out. "Time t'push, Maude! Push!"

She did, a long wail bursting out as she bent almost double. Ezra whimpered a bit, too-- and wondered if he'd ever be able to shuffle a deck again.

"Head's out! Again!"

"Almost there, Mother..." Ezra urged, and steadfastly avoided looking anywhere lower than her face. The smell alone was beginning to turn him green about the gills.

"It's out! It's a girl! Ezra, you've got a little sister!"

"A girl!" he laughed, as Maude sank back against the pillows wearily, and closed her eyes. "Listen to the lungs on her!" he exulted, as the infant screeched her displeasure at cold air and callused hands.

Nathan cut the cord, cleaned the baby up and wrapped the wailing infant in soft blankets, handing her to Ezra. "She's a beauty," Nathan whispered, running a dark hand over the headful of glossy black hair.

"She certainly is..." Ezra smiled down at the reddened, squalling baby-- and fell madly in love. "She's beautiful, simply beautiful. Not surprising, considering her mother-- " He sat down on the side of the bed, and held the baby out to Maude.

Maude shook her head and rolled over, her back to her children.

"Mother.. she needs to eat," Ezra told her softly.

"No."

"Mother, please..." Desperation tinged Ezra's voice. The graveyards were full of bottlefed babies...

"NO!" Maude sobbed.

Mary stepped forward. "Ezra... let me have her. Mrs. Tyler is nursing --- I'm sure she'll be glad to be a wetnurse."

"Thank you, Mary... If Mrs. Tyler agrees, please, let her know I'll make it very worth her while." He gazed down at the tiny baby once more, and unashamedly, kissed her tiny forehead tenderly. "She will be intelligent.... beautiful.....Abigail... her name is Abigail."

Mary smiled and said, "Let me have her and I'll see."

He handed the child over, with obvious reluctance. Then, he turned to his Mother. "She really is lovely, Mother... very lovely."

"She's red-bone," Maude sobbed. "Ugly..."

Mary left, holding a hand over the child's ear.

"She isn't ugly," Ezra retorted softly, bur firmly. He glanced at Nathan. "If she needs anything-- I'll be in the saloon..."

Nathan nodded.

~*~


Three hours later, Mary returned with a sleeping Abigail in her arms. She walked right into the saloon. "Ezra?"

He came to his feet fast enough to nearly upset his chair. "Is something wrong with Abigail?" His eyes were bloodshot, and glassy.

"She's been fed and is sleeping...... Ezra?" Mary held the baby tighter. "Ezra, what...?"

"I'll take her to my room, now." He reached for her, and gave a bit of a rueful snort. "I've already purchased a cradle... but what else she'll need, I haven't the slightest inkling."

"Bottles.... clothes...... washbasin....." Mary rattled off. "Ezra, you look drunk!"

"I am." Holding Abigail easily in the crook of one arm, he reached into his pocket with the other. "May I prevail upon your kindness once again, to purchase the items young Mistress Standish requires?" A five-dollar gold piece was pressed into her hand.

"Ezra, a drunk adult is NOT what she needs!" she moved to take the baby back.

He stepped back, holding Abigail protectively to his chest, his eyes glowing dangerously. "No one is going to take her from me. No. one."

Vin moved to his side. "Hey, Ez, let's get her up to your room, okay? Mary, go ahead and get what she needs. We'll be in his room with her." *Trust me* his eyes said.

She nodded, and left, still uneasy with the situation.

Vin smiled. "C'mon, Ez, let's get her up to your room. She's sure a pretty one."

"She's exquisite," he slurred, but moved with more stability than he appeared able to summons.

Once in the room, Vin asked, "can I hold her?"

"Sure... watch her head... She's so floppy, one would think she has no spine," he grinned, and handed the baby over, then dropped into a chair.

Vin touched the girl's soft cheek. "She looks almost like you," he said with a smile. "She's got Indian eye shape and hair, but the rest looks like you."

"The Standish line has always seemed prepotent," he grinned, and pulled out his hip flask, taking a long sip. "So, it appears today I have become both brother and father..."

"Looks that way." He regarded him seriously. "You gonna make a habit outta gettin' drunk? Gal deserves better."

"No, I don't intend to make inebriation habitual, but I think you can understand my desire to take a considerable portion of the edge off of reality today."

"Yeah, I do. Want me t'watch over her while ya sleep it off?"

"Thank you, Vin-- I would be eternally in your debt." Ezra heaved himself to his feet, and lurched over to the bed. Without Abigail in his arms, it was as if the alcohol all hit at once.

When he woke, Vin and Chris both were sitting in the lamp-lit room -- and Chris was feeding Abigail from a bottle.

Sitting up with a groan, he peered at them. "I thought Mrs. Tyler was taking care of her nutrition?"

Chris smiled at him. "She is -- when she's awake." He nodded at the darkened window. "It's nearly midnight -- figured this would be easier."

"Midnight? The child wants to eat at midnight?"

"Babies don't care what time it is, when they're hungry," Chris said with a fond grin down at the baby. "She's nearly done --- wanna burp her so she can go back to sleep?"

"I would, if I had the faintest idea how to go about persuading an infant to belch."

Chris stood and walked over. He lay a cloth over Ezra's shoulder and positioned Abigail there. "Just jostle her gently and pat her back."

A bit tentatively at first, Ezra followed instructions. Abigail squirmed, and then produced a burp of considerable duration and volume. "My stars! Did that noise come out of this tiny body?" he laughed.

"It certainly did!" Chris laughed. "Now wipe her mouth in case any spit-up's come out, then rock her to sleep."

"Of course she hasn't spit-up," Ezra protested softly, shifting Abigail to the crook of his arm. "You're far too fine a lady as to be so crass as to regurgitate on your brother's shirt, aren't you, m'love?" he cooed.

Abigail answered with a burp and an artfully-aimed spit-up --- all over Ezra's shirt.

He got no sympathy from his chortling companions, as he first cleaned up Abigail, and then deposited her in her cradle, in order to change his soiled garment.

"Got a good sense of humor, don't she?" Vin laughed.

"And a damned fine aim!" Chris added. "I remember once I ended up in just my suspenders and britches," Chris finished, his eyes lit with fond memories for a change.

"If this sort of reaction to a meal is normal, then that would be the most prudent attire to wear while she dines!" Ezra grinned, his good humor restored, despite his pounding head.

~*~

Nathan knocked gently on Ezra's door. "You awake?" he called.

"Interminably so, yes. Come in..." Ezra was in his trousers and sockfeet, walking the floor with a cranky Abigail.

"She okay?" Nathan fell into step beside his groggy, pacing friend.

"She seems to only want to sleep when she's in contact with my flesh," he sighed. "Preferably, when I'm upright and in motion."

Nathan smiled. "She likes the rhythm of your heartbeat, the warmth of your skin." Nathan unbuttoned his own shirt. "Lemme walk her for a bit, let you rest. You're gonna need it."

"Thank you, Nathan... another hour of this, and I fear I would have started to see pink elephants..."

"You still might, after you hear what I've gotta say."

Ezra stopped, halfway to the bed. "Lovely. What is it?"

"Maude's gone." Two words, very softly spoken.

Ezra closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "I suspected she might abdicate her responsibilities completely, but I didn't expect her to flee so soon. Is she in any danger, traveling so soon after her confinement?"

"No, she's strong and hearty."

"Then I wish her godspeed, and all happiness," Ezra gritted, and laid down on the bed, dropping his arm over his eyes.

Nathan sat down in the rocking chair and sang quietly to Abigail.

His lullaby sent Ezra into dreams, long before Abigail succumbed to its charms. When he woke, Ezra found Abigail laying on his bare chest....and they were alone.

"Looks as though its just you and me, now, Abigail-- " he whispered. "And no matter what, you'll always have me, even if we have to stand alone against the whole world." His hand stroked over the soft, abundant black hair. "Just you and me, against the world."

~The Beginning~