Title:  The Brotherhood of Man

Author (s): Kaly

Category: Adult Het OW

Pairing: Ezra/Casey

Author's note (optional): This started as a challenge on one of the Het lists – a challenge I proposed…Pick any one of the boys and a lady (can be a female character from the show, or an OFC) They either end up on a deserted island, or are somehow trapped together, either by a cave-in, weather, or whatnot (length of time they are confined into close quarters can be of your own choosing) Now...when the two first start their journey into exile<G> they're like oil and water - arguing about anything and everything. What I want y'all to do (if you're up to it<G>) is take them from fighting like cats and dogs...to purring and growling of another sort - if you get my drift<WEG>

 

Disclaimer:  The men (and women) of Magnificent Seven are not.  They belong to CBS, Mirisch, MGM, Trilogy…and anyone else I neglected to mention.  No money is being made with this story and no copyright infringement is intended, but is written purely for entertainment purposes.

 

 

The Brotherhood of Man

 

Ezra groaned, wondering again how he had managed to procure the exceptionally outlandish assignment of escorting Casey Wells home.  While it was true that Guy Royal's ruffians were attempting to extract some revenge upon Nettie Wells and her young niece, it was also well known throughout the little borough they inhabited that Mr. Dunne and Miss Wells were something of a couple.  So it eluded the southerner as to why the young sheriff was not accompanying her to her aunt's residence instead of him.  After all, it was nearly sundown – and Ezra was about to miss out on what would have surely been a most profitable evening of card playing.

 

"Y' know…you could at least talk to me while we're ridin', Ezra."

 

"My dear Miss Wells," he said gently, "I am quite certain any diatribe that came from my lips would a poor substitute for Mr. Dunne's company on this sojourn.  Alas, Mr. Larabee has waylaid our young friend for some unknown reason and we must endeavor to muddle through as best we can."

 

"Why do you have to use so many words to say one little thing?" Casey snapped irritably.  "If y' don't wanna talk, just say so!"

 

Ezra blinked in surprise at the ferocity of the young woman's tone; he glanced over at her in the dim light of the night sky.  Suddenly he was all too aware of just why he had been chosen to escort Casey home in JD's stead.

 

"Might I presume that you and our young Mr. Dunne had a difference of opinion of some sort?  And that is the reason as to why he is not accompanying you this fair evening?"

 

"Think what you like," she answered noncommittally, her eyes staring straight ahead.  Ezra turned slightly, noticing the stiffening of her back and how she held her head rigid.  She was angry – but the southerner was uncertain if her anger were directed toward JD…or him.  "Don't know why I need a babysitter," she muttered under her breath.

 

'Ahh…so that's what is troubling her.'  The sudden lack of freedom this latest threat to her and her guardian garnered.  'I don't suppose I can fault her for her frustration at the insufficient privacy such conditions pose.'

 

"Mr. Larabee is only ensuring your safety…and that of your guardian," he replied smoothly.  "I feel certain that this arrangement is only temporary – once Mr. Royal's accomplices are apprehended…" Ezra saw the shoulders square further and decided to try a different tactic.  "Surely the elder Miz Wells would be most distraught if anything unpleasant should befall you whilst you are in her care…"

 

As if to prove his point, the still night air was suddenly pierced by a hail of bullets that rained down around them.  Both horses reared up, frightened, and Ezra struggled to control Chaucer.  He turned to face his companion, whose steed seemed a bit less unruly than his own, and saw the fear in her moonlit eyes.

 

"I would wager that our path to your aunt's home is no longer a safe route to take," he stated as calmly as possible.  "And we are in a quite precarious position out here in the open…"

 

"I know a place," Casey replied quickly.  She fought to keep her voice low, so only the southerner could hear her.  Moving her horse close to his, she leaned in toward him.  "'Bout a mile or two from here there's a sod house…we can hide in there 'til it's safe."

 

"A-a sod house?" Ezra blinked hard, the thought of staying in such a place for any length of time was quite distasteful to him.  But what was the other option?  Let Royal's men kill him and Casey Wells?  "Very well…lead on, Miss Wells."

 

Casey urged her horse sharply to the left; Ezra tugged on Chaucer's reins to follow.  He kept the young woman in his sight, watching to be certain that none of the errant gunfire that erupted around them came close to injuring her.  The horses moved quickly, neither rider bothering to look behind them.  They knew they would be followed – just not how closely.

 

Casey made another sharp turn, disappearing behind a small hill.  Ezra spurred his steed on, and was nearly tossed from his back when the horse pulled up quickly behind Casey and her now still mount.

 

"Why have you stopped, Miss Wells?" he asked, looking around the flat area before him.  "I do not see any sign of a home of any kind, much less…"

 

"It ain't actually a sod house, Ezra…more of a dugout, really?"

 

"Dugout?" Ezra's eyes bulged, suddenly spying the door that led into the hill they were standing beside.  "Surely you cannot expect me to-to stay in that hovel?"

 

"Would you rather stay out here and wait for them?" Casey asked calmly, grabbing the few items she had on her horse.  She was suddenly thankful for the canteen she'd filled with water before leaving and the quilt she had purchased for her Aunt Nettie's birthday.  She turned to see Ezra moving hesitantly from Chaucer's back before lightly slapping the horse's rump and sending him along.  She reluctantly did the same, knowing that any sign of horses nearby would alert Royal's men and they would quickly descend upon them.

 

"Lead on, Miss Wells," Ezra said softly, opening the door for her and letting her step inside.

 

The second he stepped through the door, Ezra felt the cold dampness seep into his body.  He squinted into the blackness, trying to see anything in the dark place they'd decided to hide inside.  Only one window looked out from the hillside, so deeply recessed that not even the brightest moon would cast any shadow inside.  Not claustrophobic by nature, the southerner suddenly understood how one could be if presented with this abomination day after day.

 

"Casey?" he whispered.

 

"Over here."

 

Ezra headed in the direction of her voice, leading himself along the outer wall.  The hard-packed earth felt cold underneath his hand.  He stopped suddenly as Casey reached out and grabbed his shoulder, a hiss of pain escaping his lips.

 

"Ezra…you're hurt!"

 

"It is nothing to concern yourself with, Miss Wells…" the southerner said slowly, trying to keep the pain from his voice.  "One of Royal's miscreants caught me, but it's only a grazing…"

 

"Ezra, your jacket sleeve is soaked through," Casey replied, fighting with the man to pull the jacket off him.  "I'd say that was more than a grazing."  She managed to remove his jacket, whispering apologizes at the pain-filled groan that bubbled up in his throat.  Taking hold of his shirtsleeve in both hands, she started pulling.

 

"Wha-what are you doing, Miss…?"

 

"I'm tearing the sleeve so I can see if the bullet went clean through," she replied.  The sound of fabric tearing had Ezra wincing.  "And don't you think you can call me Casey?  You have before…"

 

"I do apologize, Miss…Casey," Ezra said, silently lamenting the destruction of his shirt.  His brow furrowed slightly.  "How is it that you know so much about bullet wounds, my dear?"

 

"Nathan explained some things to me when…when JD was hurt."  Casey's voice caught mid-sentence, thinking back to that horrible time – not so very long ago.  She and JD had reconciled, her feelings for him overriding her anger when she feared she would lose him.  But the hurt was still there – that he would so easily give to a stranger that which he still hadn't shared with her.

 

"Only way I can think of to do this – being as it's so dark in here…" she paused, trying to see his face in the void they were hiding in.  "It…it won't be pleasant," she offered, as she finished tearing the sleeve from the rest of the shirt.

 

"Continue on…Casey.  I assure you I can han…" Ezra choked as the girl's fingers probed his upper arm, checking the only way she could think of to see if there was an exit wound as well as an entry.  "I can handle the discomfort," he said finally, gritting his teeth with the effort.

 

"Feels like it went clean through…wish I had something to clean the wound with – before I wrap it up."

 

"M-my flask," Ezra whispered.  "It's in my jacket."

 

"Whiskey?" Casey asked, feeling around on the floor for the discarded waistcoat.

 

Ezra nodded; then realizing she couldn't see him, he replied with a soft, "Yes."

 

Casey searched through the many pockets of Ezra's jacket, surprised at their number.  'Why on earth would a man need so many pockets?'  Reaching into the inside left, she found the silver flask and pulled it out.  She felt around, searching for his hand and placed the flask into it.

 

"You want to drink some before I do this?  Not quite sure how I'm going to without being able to see…"

 

"Thank you kindly, Miss…Casey," he corrected himself again.  'Might as well be informal since we have no idea how long we'll be stuck here.'  "I think I would like a bit to dull the pain before you continue."  He took a long swig of the liquid fire before carefully handing it back to the young woman.  He growled in pain, choking back a curse as she poured a generous amount of the liquor onto his seeping wound.  Taking what remained of his torn sleeve, she tied it tightly around his arm, hoping it would be enough to stop the bleeding.

 

"Sorry…that's the best I can do," she said apologetically.

 

"It's quite serviceable, I'm certain," he replied magnanimously.  He reached for his jacket, drawing an old deck of cards from one inside pocket and began to shuffle through them with his good hand.

 

"Do y' always carry those around with you?" Casey asked after listening to the cards shifting around in his grasp.

 

"As they are a good luck charm of sorts, I must respond to your question in the affirmative."

 

"Don't you get tired of sitting around and playing cards all day?  How does a man prove himself with cards?  It's not like riding, or roping, or shooting…even a spitting contest proves more than a stupid card game would…"

 

"Miss Wells…" Standish replied angrily.  "A gentleman does not need to resort to such lowly contests to prove himself – whether it be riding or roping or…Heaven forbid, spitting.  And certainly not by threatening to shoot anyone who challenges him.  A game of cards is a lesson in intelligence…"

 

"I suppose," she cut in dismissively, and his anger grew.  "I didn't mean to say you weren't a man…"

 

"And just what was it you intended by that comment?"

 

"I…I don't know…was just wondering what was so fascinating about cards, I guess."

 

The two sat in silence; only the sound of the cards being shuffled filled the air.  Long moments passed, both lost in their own thoughts.  Until finally…

 

"Could you stop that?  It's driving me crazy!  All that shuffling…not like there's any likelihood of a card game around here…" she muttered.

 

"What would you suggest we do to pass the time?"

 

"We could talk…"

 

'Talking again,' he thought with a sigh.  "Very well…and what topic of discussion did you have in mind?"

 

"Have you ever had a girl?"

 

"I-I beg your pardon?"

 

"Had a girl…you know – been in love?" Casey asked again.  An image of Li Pong flashed before him; Ezra pushed the memory aside, turning furious green eyes onto the spot where he thought Casey was sitting.

 

"Miss Wells," he huffed, "A gentleman does not discuss his current or former relationships with just anyone – it just isn't done.  And a proper young lady does not lower herself to ask such a question."

 

The room fell deadly silent, his fury hanging in the air like a pending thunderstorm.  He just couldn't believe she would dare ask such an impudent question… A soft sound assailed his ears and he listened closely.  'Ah hell,' he sighed, recognizing the soft sobs coming from the young lady next to him.  "Casey?"

 

She didn't respond and he cursed himself for letting his anger get the best of him.  Here they were, alone, after having been chased from her home by madmen with guns.  She was very obviously frightened – and trying to use conversation to keep from thinking on their situation.  And at the first question, he'd practically bitten her head off.

 

"Casey, please… It was not my intention to make you cry…" He reached out and, finding her arm, pulled her into an embrace.  "Here, you must be cold…where is that blanket you brought inside?"

 

"I-I'm sorry…" she sobbed softly; she reached for the blanket and handed it to him.

 

"Hush child…it's forgotten."  He longed to be able to see her face, to know what she was really thinking.  "Something is troubling you, is it not?  Something more than just the situation at hand?"

 

"How-how do you know when someone loves you if they never say it?"

 

"Ahh…Mr. Dunne has been neglecting his duty to you, has he?"

 

"It ain't that…"

 

"Isn't," he corrected softly.

 

"It isn't that…I mean he's been real nice and all.  It's just…" Casey sighed.  "He's barely even ever kissed me…"

 

Ezra sat in stunned silence, thinking he should not be hearing this.  This is something private between JD and his young lady…and not for anyone's ears but them.  Still, he was surprised to hear that the younger man had yet to stake his claim upon the lovely Miss Wells.  'Lovely…and just when did you come to that realization, Ezra?'

 

"Surely JD has pledged himself to you?"

 

"Pledged?"

 

"He's told you how he feels about you…professed his love?"  He shook his head in surprise, thinking it must be a fever brought on by the wound in his shoulder.  Why else would he so boldly ask a question that was most assuredly none of his business?

 

"He said he cared for me…" she said softly; from the sound of her voice, Ezra could tell her head was down.  "But that was when he was hurt…and he hasn't said anything – or done anything since… Maybe I'm just not the kind of girl a man can love…"

 

"I don't want to hear such talk from you," Ezra said vehemently.  He took her chin in his hand and raised it slowly, wishing he could see into her eyes.  "You are a beautiful young lady, Casey Wells…and if JD can't see that…well then, the young man is just blind…"

 

"You think I'm beautiful?"

 

"I told you once you were pretty as a picture…" he replied honestly; inhaling deeply, he smelled her scent.  All soap and fresh air and wildflowers – like a beautiful spring day.  'Ezra Standish, you are treading on thin ice here,' he scolded himself.  "And you have grown more lovelier since then…"

 

Without realizing what he was doing, Ezra tilted Casey's face up toward his, his lips brushing gently across hers.  A soft sound of surprise bubbled up in her, followed by an even softer one of acceptance, the hands on his chest changing from pushing against him to curling around his neck as she moved closer.  His good arm moved across her back, his hand winding into her hair and drawing her mouth harder against his.  Each kiss was soft and gentle, each successive one just a shade more demanding.

 

With a sigh, her lips parted beneath his and Ezra slipped his tongue slowly into her mouth, tasting and teasing her own.  Soft mewling sounds fell upon his ears and he groaned his own pleasure at the hands that stroked through his hair and along his neck.  Why hadn't he ever appreciated how wonderful Casey felt in his arms?  How intoxicating she was?

 

'Casey!  JD's Casey!  Good Lord!'  Realization struck him like a blast of cold air and he struggled for a way to gently, but firmly remove himself from this…this disastrous entanglement.  He pulled back slowly, choking on the anguished groan the effort tore from him.

 

"I think it's time we bed down…rest…sleep, yes sleep!  Time we try and get some sleep.  The hour is late and we've both had a very trying day…" He was rambling and he knew it, but he was helpless to stop it.  As long as he kept talking, he could fight against the urge to curl her body back against him and continue this insane, yet tantalizing… 'No, Ezra…you cannot do this!'  "Take the blanket, my dear, it will keep you warm against the night's chill…and in the morning I am certain we will be free from this place and on our way home."

 

 

 

The cold damp of the dugout floor seeped into her bones and Casey shivered despite the blanket covering her.  The chill painfully brought her from her slumber and her gaze swept through the darkness, confused for a moment about where she was.  As her memory of the previous night returned, her face flushed in embarrassment.  She curled in on herself, trying to hold onto the sudden warmth that flooded her body.

 

She listened closely, knowing Ezra was sleeping just behind her.  Only a few feet separated them, though the way he had acted, she wouldn't be the least surprised if he had retreated to the opposite end of the small room they occupied.  Last night confused her – the southerner's sudden actions…and her own.  One minute he was railing at her for asking a question, and the next…

 

Casey didn't have much experience when it came to men – only having been kissed twice before.  One – the visiting cousin of a friend of hers – stole a kiss at a summer picnic when they were both thirteen.  The boy had gotten a black eye for his effort and she never saw him – or the friend – again afterward.  The other was JD, of course.  JD's kiss had been sweet and gentle, a quick peck when no one was looking.

 

But last night – that was different.  It surprised her.  How could such a light touch make her feel as if her heart was about to jump from her chest?  She'd never felt like that before.  The closest she'd come was racing bareback down the trail on her horse, her hands gripping tightly onto Ginger's mane.  The wild and free feeling of her hair flying behind her as she went.  She trembled again as she thought about it – clinging to Ginger didn't even compare to the feeling she felt as she clung to Ezra.

 

Ezra Standish…she still couldn't seem to wrap her mind around it.  She remembered all too well the way he had snubbed her when she'd caught JD with that female bounty hunter.  She'd been hurting – seeking out both Vin Tanner and the gambler to try and get even with JD.  Both men had refused her, though Vin's quiet 'no' hurt her far less than Ezra's spouting about 'the brotherhood of man'.  Where was all that brotherhood nonsense last night?

 

Another chill swept through her; as she pulled the quilt around her shoulders she thought of Ezra.  Lying on the cold floor, injured, with only a torn shirt to ward off the chill.  Surely she should check on his wound – make certain it hadn't started bleeding again.  Though how she was going to do that in the dark, she wasn't certain.

 

She made her way slowly across the floor, reaching blindly out with her hands to keep from bumping into the southerner.  A soft, pain-filled groan erupted from Ezra as she accidentally jostled his injured arm.

 

"Shh, Ezra…it's okay," she said softly; she reached around to feel the makeshift dressing she'd put on the upper arm several hours earlier.  What on earth would she use if the bleeding hadn't stopped?  This was one occasion where she almost wished she had worn a skirt – just so she could tear the petticoat and use it for bandages.

 

The bleeding seemed to have slowed, she thought, but the ripped sleeve she had used needed to be replaced – and with something a little more substantial.  Casey thought on it a moment, fighting back a blush as she shrugged out of her pants, removed the pantaloons underneath and then put them back on.  She tore the legs of the pantaloons as best she could, using one to bind the wound while saving the other in case it was needed.

 

"Here," she replied to the hiss of pain that erupted from Ezra as she removed the old bandage; she held his head up, tilting the lip of the flask against his lips.  Ezra took a long pull of the whiskey, hoping it would dull the throbbing pain that once again sprang to life.  She took it away finally, knowing she would need to use some of it to clean the wound again.

 

"Merde."  The curse escaped through gritted teeth as the southerner grabbed hold of Casey's thigh.  He squeezed tightly as she poured some of the liquor on the bullet hole; then tied the fabric she'd torn tightly around it.  His hand relaxed and slipped away as she finished; Casey rubbed the newly formed bruise he left behind.  "I am sorry, chérie."

 

"It's alright, Ezra," she said quietly, searching around on the floor for the jacket he'd been wearing yesterday.  She looked through the pockets, seeming to recall that he'd had a handkerchief in one of them.  Finding it, she grabbed her canteen and poured some of the cool water over it; then bathed Ezra's fevered brow.

 

"Merci beaucoup, mademoiselle."

 

"What's that mean?  Merci…merci…?"

 

"Thank you," Ezra whispered, dropping his head heavily against the floor.  His eyes flew open as a pair of arms encircled his waist and a soft, warm body cuddled close to him, drawing the quilt over both of them.  "Ca-Casey?"

 

"Both be warmer this way," she said simply, curling her head against his good shoulder.  "Get some sleep, Ezra."  He sighed, resting a cheek against the top of her head, and closed his eyes.

 

 

 

A reluctant return to consciousness built inside Ezra, the fevered man slowly waking to the feeling that something was amiss.  His bed was uncomfortable – cold and hard underneath him – the antithesis of his warm and inviting featherbed.  That was it…he was sleeping on the floor – not a bed at all.

 

The gambler sighed, wondering why that realization did not soothe his unease.  No…there was something else that was missing.  Something that was not part of his normal slumber, he knew, but had been most welcome nonetheless.  A pleasant warmth beside him that was no longer there.

 

"Casey…" Ezra's muddled mind finally grasped.  His eyes opened and he anxiously looked around the dimly lit room, struggling to push aside the stabbing pain in his shoulder – and the ringing in his ears.  He saw no one in the small room, not a sign of the girl anywhere.  Could their pursuers have come upon them in the night and spirited the girl away, thinking, with his injury, that he was as good as dead?

 

"Casey!" He said more forcefully, throwing off the quilt that covered him and struggling unsteadily to his feet.  He leaned against the wall, waiting for the world to stop spinning around him.  He used the wall as ballast, feeling his way along it as he slowly made his way to the door.  "Casey, where are you?  Casey!"

 

Sweat broke out over him – whether from fear or the fever, he wasn't certain.  How could he have allowed those beasts to make off with young Miss Wells?  Had he been so deep in slumber that they could have entered and taken her without his knowledge?  And what ghastly things were they putting the poor girl through?  He slumped against the wall next to the door, feeling his legs giving out under him.  "Casey…"

 

"Ezra…what…? What are you doing up?" Casey opened the door, reaching out quickly to grab hold of the man before he slid to the dirt floor beneath them.  "You should be resting…"

 

"You…you're here…" he rasped, praying his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.  "I thought they…that you…"

 

"It's alright, Ezra.  Here, sit down."  She eased him gently to the floor and sat beside him.  His pallor worried her; his fever was growing worse and she suspected there might be an infection.  She looked at his face, surprised to find a pair of clear, green eyes gazing at her in anger.

 

"Have you been in leave of your senses, child?  What possessed you to go outside – where they might have seen you and…and…"

 

"I was looking to see if I could find something we could use as food," she explained, growing angry herself at his tone.  "And I am not a child, Ezra Standish."

 

"I thought Royal's men had captured you…thoughts of you suffering all kinds of heinous acts at their hands…" He shuddered at the thought.

 

"I'm fine, Ezra…I was very careful.  I was just hoping that I could find something to hold us over until help came – some kind of berries, or a cornfield nearby or something…" Her expression one of dejection, she sighed.  "We don't know how long before help will come, and…"

 

"And?"

 

"There's a storm coming," she said softly, her eyes fearful.  "There's a chill to the wind and the sky is gray."

 

"Snow?"

 

"I think so," she admitted.  She looked at the man sitting beside her and thought again at how bad he looked.  The thought had struck her more than once since the previous night that she should go in search of help.  If a storm was coming in – those in town thought she and Ezra had made it to the safety of Nettie's…and Nettie and Vin probably suspected they were still in town.  "Ezra…I think I should go get help…"

 

"No," he replied, grabbing her arm tightly.

 

"But you need help.  The farm isn't too far off and I could send Vin back for you…"

 

"No," Ezra repeated firmly.  "I shall not allow you to go off – without an escort, without a mount… If, as you say, there is a storm arriving soon…you could be caught out there in the elements.  And then there is the possibility of you meeting up with Royal's men…no, no…"

 

"But…"

 

"Fear not, chérie…I am certain our mounts returned to town and they are on their way to find us as we speak," he stated with a confidence he didn't feel.  He was certain that Chaucer would head back toward town, but he was just as certain of the possibility that the horse could have been captured by the men who had trailed them the night before.  If that were the case…

 

He knew the situation was grave.  They could only survive so long without sustenance of some kind – the whiskey was nearly gone and the water would only go so far.  But he could not in good conscience allow Casey to attempt to seek help.  If anything were to befall her because he had let her walk out that door…

 

"No, mon petit, I cannot allow you to place yourself in danger because of me."

 

"What's that language you keep talking?"

 

"French, my dear girl," he replied, groaning as he shifted on the floor, attempting to find a more comfortable position.  Casey scooted across in front of him, grabbing the quilt up from where he had dropped it and draped it across him.  "Merci."

 

"Merci is thank you, right?" Casey asked, smiling at the fact that she understood.

 

"Yes…" the southerner smiled back.  "Mother insisted that I learn the language, as well as others.  In order to appear more civilized."  He rolled his eyes, his smile growing at the chuckle the action brought forth from his companion.

 

"Can you teach me some?  So I know what you're saying…"

 

Ezra was quiet a moment, contemplating her request.  What harm could there be in such a diversion?  It would surely keep both their minds off their current predicament…and help pass the time whilst they awaited rescue.  The question lie in whether he could recall enough to teach her any word she wanted to know.  His head was a bit dulled by the pain and the whiskey he'd consumed.  And, truth be known, there were times he spoke aloud in French without even realizing he had done so, the language so familiar to him.

 

"I shall endeavor to share a few phrases and idioms with you, if I can," he said finally.  The broad smile on the girl's face pleased him more than he expected.  She settled herself beside him and he offered her half of the quilt, helping to tuck it around her, his uninjured arm resting across her shoulders.  "Where shall we begin?"

 

"What about hello?"

 

"A good beginning, to be sure."  Ezra nodded.  "Bonjour."

 

"Bonjour…"

 

"Very good.  Or you could say good evening, which is bonsoir."

 

"Bonsoir?"

 

"Excellent," he replied.  He let out a sigh as Casey snuggled close to him.  "And the next obvious choice would be goodbye…"

 

"Which is?"

 

"Au revoir."

 

"Or you could say farewell – which is adieu…" Ezra took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her hair as he rested his chin against the top of her head.  "Or good night, which is bonne nuit."

 

"Bonne nuit," Casey echoed, a soft smile on her face.  "That's pretty."

 

"Mmm…yes, French is a beautiful language."

 

"Last night you said…well, thank you, but it was more than just merci," Casey started.  "It was merci bow…bow…"

 

"Merci beaucoup."

 

"That's it…" she replied.  Ezra pulled back as Casey tilted her face up until their eyes met.  "If merci is thank you all by it's lonesome, then…"

 

"Thank you very much."  Ezra smiled at her, gazing deeply into her eyes.  His hand slowly rose to brush across her cheek.  "Ravissant," he murmured softly.

 

"What-what's that mean?"

 

"Lovely," he whispered in response, his eyes never leaving hers.  Casey blushed, breaking eye contact with him as she dipped her head.  Ezra shook his head slightly, as if to push away the sudden thoughts that assailed him.  "Now," he said, clearing his throat, "how about if I give you a statement?  Je m'appelle Ezra…that means my name is Ezra."

 

"Je m'appelle Casey."

 

"Exactement."  The two sat silently for a moment before Casey looked at him again.

 

"How do you say…handsome?" she asked softly.

 

"Beau."

 

"Beau?  But I thought…beaucoup…?"

 

"As with English, there are certain words in French that mean more than one thing," Ezra explained carefully.  "Bonjour, for example… The literal meaning of the word is good day.  As such, it can be used to say hello or goodbye.  The same with Bonsoir – good evening…or bonne nuit – good night."

 

"Oh."  She pondered on that a moment or two.  "What about…you said something earlier – Mon…Mon…"

 

"Mon petit?  That is an endearment of sorts…Mon means my, and petit is little, or small.  But together – loosely translated, I suppose it means my little one."  Ezra stared into her eyes, his hand brushing across her cheek once again.  "It is an expression of affection."

 

Casey stared up at him in confusion.  She had always thought Ezra was a handsome man – all of the Seven had their own appeal.  But the feelings stirring up inside her had her bewildered.  She was thinking things she shouldn't be; wanting things she shouldn't want, longing for…what she wasn't certain.  All she knew was that the need was there – and it was growing stronger as each minute passed.

 

Ezra was feeling a similar pull – one that, had he his wits about him, he would be fighting against with all his might.  As it was, the body next to him was soft and warm and, he surmised, just as willing to explore the growing passion between them.  His hand reached out, cupping her chin and drawing her gaze up to meet his.

 

"Menton," he said softly, squeezing her chin between his thumb and forefinger before leaning in to press his lips lightly to it.  "La lèvre…" A thumb traced across her lower lip, his mouth dipping in to taste it eagerly.

 

"Ezra…"

 

"La joue," he continued, brushing his lips across each cheek.  Fingers urged her eyes closed, and he placed a light kiss to each lid.  "Les yeux," he whispered.  Casey sighed, leaning into his caress.

 

"Le nez," Ezra uttered, placing a quick kiss to the tip of her nose.  Her eyes opened and their gazes held one another for a long moment.  His fingers brushed across her mouth once again.  "La bouche," he said, his mouth covering hers.

 

Casey moaned softly; she shifted on the floor until she was facing Ezra.  His hands at her waist, he drew her closer, her upper body half-lying across his.  He took hold of her chin, pushing lightly against it, urging her mouth open beneath his.  He slipped his tongue past her parted lips, one hand stroked tenderly across her cheek and down her neck.

 

Casey leaned against him, feeling her heart race.  Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice kept whispering that this was wrong – that she should tell him to stop.  But the words wouldn't come.  Warmth enveloped her, her body not knowing quite what was happening to her, but wanting more.  Her breath caught as gentle hands slipped beneath her jacket, pushing it off her shoulders and down her arms until it hit the floor behind them.

 

"Ezra…" she said softly.

 

"Shh, chérie," Ezra breathed against her mouth.  Hands fussed with the buttons on her shirt, easing them quickly from their fastenings, before turning his attention to the camisole underneath.  One hand slipped beneath the lacings; her body tensed as he brushed a thumb across one pert nipple.  Her arms around his waist, she dug her fingernails into his sides at his touch.  She leaned into his hand, moaning again and again as he stroked the sensitive flesh.

 

Ezra reveled in the feel of her skin, pushing aside the warning voices in his head.  Something that felt so wonderful could not possibly be wrong.  He pulled back, his eyes searching hers.  Wide eyes blinked back at him, dark with desire, yet filled with confusion.  He brushed his lips gently to hers, smiling as she responded hungrily.  Pushing the garments away from her body, his gaze lowered to her heaving breasts.  Small, yet firm, they called to him and, with a groan, his mouth dropped to cover one.

 

Casey gasped in surprise and pleasure as his tongue swirled teasingly around her nipple.  Her back arched involuntarily, shockwaves rippled through her body, setting her ablaze in ecstasy.  Her hands gripped at him, one winding in his hair and holding his mouth on her; the other squeezed his shoulder.

 

Ezra's hands rested on her sides, holding her still as he stroked across her breast with his tongue.  He heard a pounding in his ears, though he couldn't say if it was her heart beating…or his own.  One hand slid down her flank to the waist of her pants.  He undid the fastenings, pulling back in surprise as he slipped his hand underneath.

 

"Casey?" he questioned softly.  She nodded mutely toward the binding on his arm, unable to utter the words aloud.  Ezra was touched at the lengths she'd gone in taking care of him.

 

"Ahh, chérie…" he whispered, kissing her tenderly on the lips.  As he deepened the kiss, his hands slid around her hips and urged her pants down past them.  They pulled apart as he focused on sliding the garment completely from her body, pushing them aside once they had passed her feet.

 

His mouth found hers again, kissing her hard.  He slowly guided her body closer to his, urging one leg across his own until she straddled him.  His mouth moved leisurely down from her lips, raining kisses on her cheek, neck, shoulder, and downward still, until he found the breast he had neglected earlier.

 

His hands ran across her bare skin, smooth, soft, and warmed by her arousal.  He was feeling a bit warm as well, feeling that familiar pull of his groin.  He shifted beneath her, trying to ease the pressure of his hardness straining against his pants.  His eyes gazed up at the woman before him, her head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth moving to moans so soft he couldn't hear them.  Taking her hand in his, he drew it down and pressed it against the bulge in his trousers.

 

"My sweet…if I could impose upon you to do me a favor…" Green eyes locked on hers and she couldn't help the flush that stained her cheeks.

 

"How…how do you say yes?" Casey asked in an impassioned whisper.

 

"Oui, mon petit…Oui."

 

"Oui," she parroted softly, her hands moving down to unfasten his trousers.  She tentatively slipped them over his hips beneath the fabric.  Ezra shifted his body slightly, raising his hips so Casey could push the garments down his muscular legs.

 

"Chérie…this…this is your first time?"  Casey nodded silently, a small show of fear in her eyes.  Ezra sighed.  "I feel I should inform you that it may be…uncomfortable at first."  He kissed her gently, shifting her body over his.  "Were I able, I would lay you upon the softest of featherbeds, worshipping your body slowly and lovingly as you deserve to be loved."

 

As he spoke, he gently moved her body over him and lowered her onto him.  His mouth pressed to hers, muffling the small cry of pain that escaped her.  He held their bodies still, giving her body time to adjust to his intrusion.

 

"Je suis désolée."  He whispered a soft apology.  He caressed her breasts, wincing slightly at the overuse of his injured arm.  That hand dropped against her thigh, his mouth moving to cover the breast it deserted.  The other hand moved to cup the smooth curve of her behind as she slowly began moving against him.

 

"Ezra…ohhh…" Casey breathed, her head flung back as the fire built within her.  She rocked her hips to his, riding him slowly, the hand at her backside guiding their pace.

 

"Nice and easy, chérie…yes, that's it…nice and easy."  The southerner's mouth moved up her body as he gradually increased their lovemaking, his hips rising up to meet hers.  "Je t'aime…je t'aime," he whispered over and over again.

 

While Casey did not understand all the words he spoke, she did grasp their inflection.  She kissed him fervently, her breath catching as a crescendo built within her.  Her hands flailed in the air, reaching for him; she stopped herself just seconds before grabbing hold of his injured shoulder.  With a cry, she fell against him, her body shaking violently as she climaxed.  She buried her face into his uninjured shoulder, her breath hot against his neck.

 

"Je t'aime, chérie," Ezra groaned softly, his own release brought on by the muscles contracting around him.  He wrapped his good arm around her waist and held her close as their bodies slowed.  Their heart rates slowly returning to normal, he turned their bodies slightly and gently eased them both down to the floor, keeping her curled up tightly against him.  Their eyes met, and she took hold of the edge of the quilt, pulling it up to cover them in response to his silent request.

 

"That was exquisite, my sweet," he said softly, placing a kiss to her lips.  "Just as you are," he added as she snuggled against him, her eyes drooping with satisfied fatigue.  He leaned his chin against the top of her head; giving in to slumber's pull, he sighed and closed his eyes.

 

 

 

The body stirring against him, turning in his embrace, threatened to pull Ezra from his fevered dreams.  Dreams where his love – the one he had foolishly sent away – had returned to him.  His eyes fell to the figure before him and he caught his breath.  Could it be?

 

"Li?" he uttered, the word so soft it was barely a whisper.  "You-you've come back…" He stroked the long hair whose strands tickled and teased his flesh as it lie between them.  His brow furrowed slightly, wondering why her long, ebony hair now seemed lighter in shade and held curls within its masses.  But he pushed the thoughts aside, his pleasure at her return overshadowing any questions in his mind.

 

His arms wrapped around her; wincing as a sharp pain shot through his shoulder.  Funny…he couldn't recall having dislocating the limb recently; but what other explanation could there be for the pain stabbing through him?  He pushed the pain back, trying to focus only on the warm and welcoming body next to him.  He stroked the soft concave of her abdomen, his face buried in her hair.  One hand crept up to cup a breast, his thumb flicking across the nipple; the other hand brushed her hair aside as his mouth pressed against the heated flesh of her neck.

 

Casey moaned softly in her sleep, Ezra's manipulations threatening to pleasurably pull her from her slumber.  Her body moved involuntarily at the sensations building within her; pushing back against his strong chest, tilting her head so his mouth could reach more of her long neck.  A long, drawn out sigh fell from her lips at the feel of his erection growing hard against her backside and she rubbed against it.  Her body moved with each stroke of his hands on her skin; leaning into palms as they toyed with her breasts, one slipping down her torso to tease the damp curls between her legs.

 

"Ezra…" she cried out softly as the southerner shifted his body in back of her and entered her from behind.  He rocked in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, stoking the fire in her until the flames threatened to consume her.  His mouth pressed hot kisses all along her shoulders and back as his hands continued to tease her unmercifully.  Her eyes rolling back in her head, she panted in time to each thrust, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

 

"Li…Li…" Ezra uttered as he drew their bodies together again and again.  "My darling girl…I can't believe you came back…"

 

His words struck like ice-cold water across her face.  She felt tears burn in her eyes; though her heart belonged to JD, it still stung that Ezra took her thinking she was someone else. Too lost in the pleasure Ezra was building within her, her body betrayed her and she came, even as hot tears stained her cheeks.

 

"Ezra, it's me…Casey…" she said softly, turning her head to try and capture his gaze with her own.  She saw the glazed eyes flutter open and closed and flushed features, a sure sign that his fever was raging higher.  Her own pain softened as she thought of him, wanting so badly to be with the woman he loved and yet unable to.

 

Ezra shuddered against her, his seed spilling into her.  He withdrew from her, turned her in his embrace, and his eyes opened to look into hers.  His vision cleared, shock and remorse replacing the love that had adorned his face.

 

"Casey?" Casey noticed the wince of pain that briefly crossed his face.  "Good Lord…what have I done?" he whispered in anguish; then fell against her as he passed out.

 

"Ezra?  Ezra?" She shook him gently, trying to rouse him.  Her hand gripping his shoulder, she felt the warm wetness there.  "Oh my Lord," she cried, concern for the man leaping into her voice.  He'd moved too much during their lovemaking – his wound once again bleeding freely.

 

She applied pressure as best she could, wincing as the man struggled weakly with her.  She removed the old bindings and set about to redress the wound, searching for the remaining half of her pantalets on the floor.  She tied it tightly; then redressed the man before her and pulled the quilt up over him to keep him warm.  Finally she pulled her own clothing back on, trying to push the memory of what they had done from her mind.

 

But it was all she could think about.  She had betrayed JD…even worse than his actions with that – that Maddie Stokes.  How could she?  She couldn't – and wouldn't – try to place the blame on Ezra.  Though she knew that he had been coherent enough on the previous evening to know it was she he had lain with, still she had sensed even then that his judgment was impaired.  She had let him kiss her – had let him go much further than that…and she had enjoyed the feelings he had stirred within her.

 

She had wanted to know – to understand – what love was all about.  And, while she had discovered how pleasurable the act could be, she'd realized somehow that something was missing.  That, as nice as it had been with Ezra – sharing such a thing with the one she loved surely had to be so much better.

 

She sat across from him, hugging her knees close to her chest as she watched the slow rise and fall of his breathing.  'Please…please send someone soon.  He needs help that I can't give him…'

 

"Casey?  Ezra?"  Her head popped up at the sound.  Could it be?  "Casey?  Ezra?"

 

"JD!" Casey called out, running to the door and throwing it open.  "JD!"

 

"Casey!" the young man pulled up beside her, dropping quickly from Milagro's back and sweeping her into his arms.  "We've been looking for you since yesterday…are you all right?"

 

"Yes, yes, I'm fine…but Ezra…" she glanced back at the doorway she'd just stepped from.  "They shot him…he's pretty bad off…"

 

JD took one of his guns and fired a shot into the air, letting the rest of the peacekeepers know where they were; then followed Casey inside to check on Ezra.

 

 

 

"Evening Casey."  The brunette glanced up to see Josiah approach and sit down beside her.  He took hold of her hand and warmed it between his own, startled at its iciness.  His blue eyes lifted, finding her uneasy gaze and bestowing a warm one on her in return.  "You've been through much these past few days…"

 

Casey nodded mutely, her eyes trailing over to the door of Nathan's clinic.  They had returned to town two days ago; Ezra had suffered a tremendous loss of blood, but Nathan assured everyone that the gambler would survive his injury.

 

Several hours after they had arrived in town, Josiah sought the young woman out – asking her to join Nathan and himself in the clinic.  They carefully explained that the southerner, in his delirium, had spoken aloud certain things that they felt certain neither Ezra, nor Casey, would like to be made public knowledge.

 

Casey blubbered through an explanation, not allowing either man to pass judgment on the unconscious man lying in the clinic's bed.  Their actions in that dugout was as much her doing as his, she declared, and she informed the two astonished men that she would not hear any talk of Ezra being banished from town once he was fit to travel.  She also forbade them from telling anyone else what they had learned.  Both men were surprised at how changed she seemed, how much more mature she had grown as a result from her experience.

 

"He's been asking for you…"

 

"I know," she said quietly.  "I just don't know if I can take seeing the guilt in his eyes.  Josiah…neither of us meant for this to happen.  And I'd sooner cut my tongue out than to hurt JD like that…"

 

"Hush, child…The Lord has seen much more wicked and vile acts than anything you could ever do.  He will not lay blame at your feet for such an indiscretion…"

 

"Are you so sure?"

 

"Have your feelings changed for either man?" the preacher asked, avoiding answering her question.

 

"If anything, I think I've learned how much I love JD…that's silly, though, isn't it?  How can…being with someone else make me see that?"

 

"The Lord does work in mysterious ways," he said with a gentle smile.  Lifting her chin up until their eyes met, he continued.  "You've had a couple days to make peace with yourself about what happened…you have a clearer picture of where your life leads from here."  He glanced at the door to their left.  "But just inside that door is someone who is only now coming to grips with his own perceived sins…and he needs your guidance, as well as the Lord's – to help him through this."

 

She nodded solemnly, though she was unsure what she could do to help Ezra.  Standing quickly, she squared her shoulders and headed toward the door.  Her hand on the handle, she paused, turning back to face the understanding blue eyes.  "Thank you, Josiah."

 

 

 

Casey opened the door and stepped inside.  "Nathan," she said, nodding to the healer.  She then turned her attention to the pale figure on the bed.  "Ezra…I'm glad to see you're doing better…"

 

"I'll just leave you two alone…to talk." Nathan stood, looking pointedly at the gambler before he stepped outside the door and closed it softly behind him.

 

"Miss Wells…Casey…I…" Ezra glanced everywhere but at the young woman standing before him.  How could he meet her gaze, knowing what he had done to her – how he had defiled her whilst they were ensconced in that little shack?

 

"Ezra," Casey said gently, moving to sit on a chair beside him.  "You did nothing wrong…"

 

"How can you say that?  When I…I took the most precious of gifts from you without your consent…"

 

"It wasn't without my consent, Ezra…" Green eyes came up to meet hers, regarding her carefully.  "It was not without my consent.  I could have stopped you…"

 

"You are unversed in the ways of…how could you have stopped me when you were unsure of what I was…"

 

"Ezra…I may be young, but I am not that naïve.  I've seen the animals on the farm…"

 

"Are you proposing to equate what transpired between us with that which you have observed in-in a barnyard?" Ezra sputtered; he saw the flush slowly creep across Casey's cheeks.  She smiled slightly and shook her head.

 

"No.  What happened between us was…it was…"

 

"It was wrong."

 

"Yes, but not for the reason you mean."  The green eyes perused her thoughtfully, wondering when the young girl he knew had disappeared and been replaced by the engaging and intelligent woman before him.  "It was wrong because we are both in love with other people.  I love JD – and in a strange way, this only made me realize how much I truly do love him.  And you…"

 

"Be that as it may…" the gambler spoke, cursing his voice as it cracked.  He had to stop her before she continued – before she uttered that name.  "I took advantage of you…thinking you were someone else.  I called you another's name – which was neither fair to you, nor her."

 

"But you didn't know what you were doing, Ezra…it was the fever…I don't hold you responsible for that."

 

"And what of Mr. Dunne?  Does he hold me responsible for my reprehensible actions?"

 

"JD don't know," she declared softly.  "Only Nathan and Josiah know what happened…and that's only because you cried out.  I…I swore them to secrecy.  No one else is to know what happened out there."

 

"And will you still feel the same way if you find yourself with child?"

 

Casey's head flew up, eyes meeting his.  Obviously this was not something she had considered.  He marveled at how composed she seemed – or had, until he had thrown that possibility at her.

 

"I will fulfill my duty – my responsibility – to you if that comes to pass…"

 

"Ezra, I don't love you…"

 

"You wound me, dear lady," he quipped, a flash of his smile trying to lighten the tenseness of the situation.

 

"I am fond of you…very fond of you," she admitted.  "But I love JD.  I want to be with JD – if he'll have me."

 

"If he does not cherish you as you should be cherished, then he is a fool."  Ezra sighed, closing his eyes a long moment before bestowing his gaze upon her again.  "However…that does not negate…"

 

"It does…I won't marry you, Ezra Standish," Casey declared, her fiery temper rising to the surface momentarily.  "Besides, there won't be anything to worry about, I'm sure.  No need for either of us to get worked up over something that didn't happen."  With that, she turned and bounded out the door, leaving a stunned Ezra in her wake.

 

 

 

"I'm real glad you asked me to go fishing with you, Casey," JD said, smiling over at the girl sitting beside him.  He lowered his gaze shyly, looking at her from beneath his long, dark lashes.  "I…I was real worried about you when you were missing…"

 

"You were?"

 

"Yeah…"

 

"JD?" Casey spoke softly, lowering her fishing pole to the ground and gazing thoughtfully at the young man next to her.  Since her return, she couldn't seem to stop thinking about him.  About being with him…and wondering how his body would feel against hers.  The thought brought a blush to her cheeks and JD thought it made her look even more pretty.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Could you…would you kiss me?"

 

The young man blinked in surprise.  He'd wanted to kiss her – for the longest time – but was afraid that she might slap him if he tried.  Big hazel eyes stared into hers and he nodded, leaning slowly toward her.  She took his hand in hers as their lips met, placing his palm on her hip as she leaned into him.  She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she deepened the kiss gradually.

 

JD groaned as Casey slowly kneaded the chords of his neck; her lips parted beneath his and his tongue dipped inside to taste her.  His heart pounded in his chest, his body responding to hers as it never had before.  The feelings both excited and frightened him and he pulled back suddenly, his eyes searching hers.

 

"Casey?"

 

"Don't you like me, JD?"

 

"Hell yeah…I mean, sure I do, but…"

 

She kissed him again; drawing him down beside her on the blanket they'd laid out for their picnic lunch.  Fingers woven into his hair beckoned him closer, her other hand taking hold of his and guiding it slowly down her body.  JD's eyes widened as her body moved with his touch, a low moan of pleasure erupting from her.

 

"Case-Casey?"

 

"JD…" she said, breathing heavily.  "When Ezra and I were in that dugout…I was so afraid that we weren't gonna ever get out and I…" Her eyes met his and he felt the depth of love for him within them.  "All I could think of was that you'd never know how much I…how much I love you…"

 

"Y' do?"

 

"I love you, JD Dunne."

 

"Oh Casey…" JD leaned down and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her tightly.  "But, are you sure…?"

 

"I don't want to wait, JD…what if…what if something happens to one of us and we never have a chance to-to show each other how we feel?"

 

JD held her tighter, pressing his lips to the top of her head.  He knew the fear she was speaking of – had felt it himself on more than one occasion.  Times when he'd been injured and wondered if he'd ever see her face again; when that dynamite had exploded near him on the wagon train and he narrowly escaped death.  He couldn't deny her fears – or his own; couldn't deny either of them what they'd both wanted for some time now.

 

"Casey…" he whispered, reaching out to stroke her face.  He kissed her gently, rolling her onto her back and pressing his own against her.  They moved slowly, taking their time as they undressed one another.  They explored, stroking and kneading, teasing and tasting, learning every inch of the body before them.

 

"JD…John," Casey cried out softly as her lover's body melded with her own.  She writhed beneath him, rising up to meet his every thrust; showing with her every touch – every kiss – just how much he meant to her.

 

He pumped harder inside her, so close to release and yet wanting to wait for her to join him.  Her hands stroked across his back, nails digging lightly into the soft flesh of his backside as she pulled him deeper inside her.  He tensed, filling her completely; then fell against her, his thrusts slowing.

 

"Je t'aime…Je t'aime," she whispered softly into his hair as he nuzzled her neck.  He pulled back, puzzled.

 

"What's that?"

 

"Oh…it's French," she said simply, brushing the hair from his eyes.  "Ezra taught me some French while we were holed up…"

 

"Gee…couldn't ya have found something more fun to do than learn French?"

 

Casey smiled enigmatically.  She stroked a hand through his hair and drew his mouth down upon hers, kissing him lightly.  Then gently led his head down to rest upon her shoulder.

 

"What's it mean?" JD asked finally, curiosity getting the better of him.  "Je…Je…"

 

"Je t'aime?  It means I love you."

end