Title: The Story of Boston Bound, part 1 of 4

Author: Tipper

Disclaimer: I don't own the Magnificent Seven, and never will, unless by some twist of fate I win the lottery, then invest it in some junk binds that skyrocket, become as rich as Oprah, then go and buy myself a piece of MGM. Man, how I'd love that.

Notes: I was a history major, and I did research quite a bit for this, so, though my medical skills may be non-existent, the history is right. If you're wondering where this came from, I was inspired by Manhunt, when Nathan stands up and tells the crowd in this very Poirot like manner: "It'd be impossible for him to strangle Clay-ah, and leave the marks I saw on both sides of her neck." He was just so darn cute when he said that. Made me want to try my hand and imitating an Agatha Christie style mystery, with Nathan (and, of course, Ezra – what can I say, I love that guy) at the center. Carl and Sarah Weathers, by the way, were introduced in Adverse Possession and occasionally pop up in my other stories. The riverboats were mentioned in Three of a Kind.

Description: As winter storms blanket Four Corners, a stagecoach arrives bringing a figure from Nathan's past…and one from Ezra's. This is part romance, part murder mystery, and a whole lot of beautiful snow.

The Story of Boston Bound

Part One

Serenity fell from the sky, drifting down in the form of delicate, mathematically perfect, flurries. Slowly, as if afraid to disturb the peace that arrived with the soft weather, Nathan opened the door of the clinic and slipped out onto the balcony. He raised his face to feel the cool moisture alight upon his hot skin, his eyes shut sleepily against the calm. There was no breeze today to disturb the snow's harmonious descent, making the air seem almost warm in comparison to the frigid winds that had battered the town the week before.

Opening his large brown eyes, Nathan pulled his heavy greatcoat tighter and leaned forward over the balcony banister to look down upon the town below, feeling like a king surveying his domain. The snow had the effect of muffling all the normal sounds, and even the children laughing where they played in the alley between Mrs. Potter's store and Mr. Greene's apothecary shop sounded somehow distant. From the looks of it, a fairly impressive snowball fight was going on between the Potter children, the Greene's two boys, Billy Travis and several others. Almost fifteen children were involved in all, and the number caused Nathan to raise an eyebrow. When had so many children moved in? He hadn't even noticed, though it was a sure sign that this town was being tamed.

Loud laughter broke his reverie, and Nathan switched his gaze to the saloon. He immediately reset his number of children to add three more, as he watched Buck pelt JD with a large snowball. Ezra stood in the background, his thick wool plum jacket wrapped tightly around him, laughing with abandon. JD gained his footing quickly and gathered a new snowball, which he threw at the ladies man. Too quick, Buck ducked, and the projectile smacked Ezra on the head, knocking off his black riverboat hat. In less time than it takes Chris to draw his gun, Ezra was wrestling JD into a snowdrift, and Buck had gathered enough snow in his hands to cover them both.

After a few moments, the three men were back on their feet, still playing, but now moving across the street to join the children in the alley. Nathan rolled his eyes, knowing that a war was soon to be begun in that alleyway that would put all others to shame. But he was grinning all the same.

As the players disappeared, Nathan turned his thoughts to the others, noticing that Chris and Vin were sitting outside the jail looking for all the world like it was the middle of summer. Neither seemed affected by the cold weather, which had most people inside enjoying the warmth of their cook fires. The two men simply sat in quiet contemplation, much like he himself.

The snow really was beautiful.

He remembered quietly the first time he'd seen snow – it was the first time he really felt he had made it to freedom. It never snowed on the plantation where he grew up, nor did it ever really get cold. Most of the year, he only knew the hot, baking sun which made all the sounds around him crackle louder and harsher than fireworks on the fourth of July. Then there were the rains, bucketing out of the sky in downpours strong enough to carry houses away. The thunder and lightning, while sometimes a relief after weeks of sun, were also frightening in their severity. It was during one such storm that he'd been whipped the first time, for dropping the coal bucket up at the house. He'd only been six at the time. The noise of the storm in his head had grown to a roar under the punishment, and he wondered if he would ever know silence again.

After he'd made it North on the railroad, his only thoughts were to join the war effort. Walking in a northern city for the first time, he'd been looking for the recruitment office in Trenton, New Jersey when it started to snow. He'd stopped in the middle of the street in wonder, unable to comprehend the stillness that had arrived with the first snowfall of the season. It meant he was really there, in the North, where the seasons changed and the weather was as predictable as a roulette wheel. He was free. After a moment, he jerked himself awake, cursing himself for being so foolish as to stop where he might get in trouble. Then he realized he wasn't the only one.

The first snowfall of the season was magic, and it had everyone in its thrall. He remembered his awe at seeing how all those people, regardless of color, had seemed to stop what they were doing to gaze upward, small smiles on their faces, enjoying the stillness, just as he had. As he continued his journey, he walked with a lighter step.

Course, he also distinctly remembered falling flat on his ass after about three steps when he slipped on the stuff.

Now, standing on the balcony, Nathan unconsciously rubbed his rear, his smile fading to a more crooked one. This was not the first snowfall in Four Corners this season, though it was easily the thickest. It was late January, and it had snowed several times this month already. But this snow was fast accumulating, and was sticky, which, of course, leant itself to the first real chance for a good snowball fight.

Nathan stood up from off the banister, and licked his lips. He was about to go and join the "children" when the telltale sounds of a stagecoach arriving made him pause. Again leaning casually against the railing, he watched as the six passenger coach approached the hotel, trundling along slowly, laden with packages and mail. Nothing moved quickly in the snow, and this fat coach was no exception.

It came to a lazy stop, the horses shaking snow from their manes as they waited for the hotel's bellboy to break the ice on the water trough and unhitch them for the night. The hotel manager and another bellhop opened the door to the coach and reached inside for the passengers.

The first hand out was a lady's gloved hand, followed quickly by the rustle of many petticoats, and finally the small hat above a mass of light brown curls. She seemed a nice looking woman, with an easy smile and shrug for the manager. She glanced casually around the town, taking it all in with the air of someone not planning to stay here very long.

Her husband, or someone very much like it, alit from the coach directly after her. The man was large, perhaps almost as tall as Buck, with broad shoulders and a plain face. Both had a plumpness about them of people who have never had to go without food, and the kindness of manner that indicated that they were probably not from the city. Casually, they slipped inside in the hotel, following the bellhop.

The manager reached in for the next hand, and was rewarded by yet another woman's glove. The same procedure was followed, of glove, petticoats, then hat, as a black woman stepped off the stage. She was perhaps Josiah's age, or older, and wearing mostly black to keep herself warm. However, her clothes were no less nice than any others he'd seen, so he assumed she was not a servant. She had a stern looking face, lined with sadness, but with bright eyes and soft looking skin. Like the woman before, she drew her thick shawl tighter around her and looked curiously about the town as her husband joined her.

In contrast to the previous gentleman, this man was slight in build and had a hunched back, making him seem shorter than he probably was. He laid a hand on his wife's arm, and spoke quietly to the hotel manager as the bags were passed down to the bell boy who'd broken the ice for the horses. Then they, too, wandered into the warmth.

The manager turned back to the coach, to reach inside for the last two passengers, but his hand was rudely shoved away. A large brute of a man, darker in skin than any Nathan had seen in a long time, disgorged himself from the wooden frame, stretching to release the tension from the slow, uncomfortable ride. From his perch, Nathan squinted to see his face better, but the man turned away before he could get a good look. Reaching inside, the heavy set man gave his hand to the final passenger.

Once more, a ladies glove was visible on a slight hand, but no rustle of petticoats followed it, nor ladies hat. The woman who emerged was dressed simply in a light colored calfskin coat above a brown dress, her hat a dark brown felt beret. Upon seeing it, the healer's heart skipped a beat, recognizing both the style and the jaunty angle. But it was not until the young woman turned her head upwards to do as Nathan had done earlier, to catch the light snowflakes on her face, that he was sure. Throwing all decorum to the wind, he yelled down the street as loud as he could,

"BOSTON!"

The girl jerked, and spun to face his direction. When she saw him waving his arms wildly, her face broke into a grin.

"NATHAN!" She yelled back.

Almost jumping up and down in his excitement, Nathan turned and ran down the slick steps, nearly tripping over his feet on the way down. She met him in the street, snow falling around them like confetti at a ticker tape parade, and then she was in his arms.

The whole town watched as the healer spun this girl around like a feather, while her companion (husband?) watched moodily from near the stage. The hotel manager spoke in the huge man's ear, and handed him what was undoubtedly the key. With a nod, the black man thanked him, then walked over to join the two old friends in the street.

Across the way, Ezra, Buck and JD had stopped playing with the children immediately upon hearing the shout. Buck watched entranced as the usually reserved healer ran through the snow to catch a girl in his arms, impressed at the purity of the emotions on his face. JD stared curiously at the girl who, from what he could tell, was named after his home town. He noted that, though most of her clothes seemed nondescript, she wore a bright red ribbon around her neck, and a gold locket glinted from the hollow in her throat. He also noticed that she was awful pretty.

Ezra saw the black man waiting at the coach, frowned and faded into the shadows of the alleyway. In moments, he was gone. Not even the children saw him leave.

By the time Buck and JD reached Nathan and the girl, her companion was there as well, his eyes dark beneath the brim of his long black hat. Nathan put her down, his smile fading slightly as he saw her drift back to the other man's side.

"Hey Nathan," Buck smiled, "who're your friends?"

"Did I hear him call you Boston?" JD said, almost simultaneously. The girl glanced at the kid, then at the gunslinger, her smile instantly becoming guarded. Her man stepped forward slightly, to put some of his bulk between her and the two white men. If either noticed, they didn't say anything.

Nathan, however, knew the signs instantly, having lived with them his whole life. Peacemaker, he offered them his most open smile, and took up position between them.

"You sure did, JD. Buck Wilmington, JD Dunne, may I introduce a very good friend of mine…whom I haven't seen in many a year girl!" he admonished her, earning him a blush. "Anyway, she's the girl who saved my life, boys. This here is Boston Bound."

"Actually, I just go by BB now, Nathan," she said shyly, "BB Weller. This here is my husband Charlie Weller. Charlie, this here's Nathan Jackson. I was one of his conductors on the railroad when I worked the east side." She said this to her husband, though she glanced askance at the two white men to gauge their reaction to the knowledge that she was a runner. When they only seemed to smile even more broadly, she relaxed a little. Meanwhile, Nathan had stuck his hand out at the introduction, but Weller only looked at it.

"Charlie!" BB chastised, elbowing him. With a small snort, the large man took Nathan's hand and shook it slowly.

"You're name is Boston Bound? That's sure different," JD smiled. BB didn't answer, simply looked at Nathan. When he nodded encouragingly, she smiled back and looked JD in the eye for the first time.

"Well, that's cause I used to always tell everyone that was where I was going. The name I was born with…I'm not sure I even remember now. My momma got me away from Virginia when I was still only little, but we never stayed in one place for long, and my name changed every time we moved. When I was old enough to make my own name, I told everyone I was Boston Bound. That became my free name," she finished.

"And it suits you right fine, Mrs. Weller," Buck smiled, tipping his snow covered hat. BB blushed again, and clasped a little tighter onto her husband's hand.

"Did you make it there? I'm from back that way myself, see." JD's voice fairly bubbled with the thought of talking to someone from home, but BB just shook her head.

"No, I kinda…got sidetracked," she bit her lip. "Found I didn't need to go there any more," she nudged her husband. The large black man grunted, but he seemed to only have eyes for Nathan. The healer shifted slightly under the scrutiny. Buck felt the awkwardness before it could occur, and deftly took hold of JD's arm.

"Well, it was sure nice to meet you folks. I think you'll find this is a real nice town, especially now with all the snow cheering people up." The ladies man bowed slightly, and JD stumbled back a bit as Buck pulled him closer. "Now let's let these old friends get reacquainted, kid. We'll see you later, eh Nathan?"

"Sure, Buck," the healer replied with a thankful nod.

"But…" JD stuttered, and Buck's fingers dug deeper in his arm. "Yeah, Nathan," the kid said, finally getting the hint. "We'll see you later." As they walked away, JD pulled off his hat and smacked Buck's hand with it to make him let go. The "Ow! Buck, leave off the arm, huh?" was not lost on anyone. BB allowed herself a light laugh, and Nathan shook his head.

"Well, Mr. Jackson, it was nice to meet you," Charlie said, speaking for the first time. His voice was deep, gravelly, and had an air of strength unknown in most. Only Josiah had that same sort of voice.

"Oh, but, I was hoping maybe we could have dinner or something. I haven't seen you in so long, BB, and I would love to get to know you better, Mr. Weller." Nathan betrayed that boyish face of his, and BB's expression opened itself up slightly. Charlie's eyes narrowed, but then he shrugged.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt none. We are going to be on the first stage out tomorrow morning, though, so don't expect any more than that. You pay for your own dinner though."

"Oh Charlie, hush!" BB said. "We'd love to have dinner, Nathan. Where…." She looked about the town for the first time, looking to see if there might be a restaurant hidden among the varied structures.

"Oh, I'm afraid there's just the hotel and the saloon at present," Nathan said, "and, though Inez may be a good cook, I think the hotel would be more conducive to catching up."

Charlie couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the other man's use of "conducive," wondering where a black man could have picked up such a highbrow word. Still, he merely nodded.

"Fine. Seven o'clock at the hotel. Now, we really must get some rest." He took his wife's hand where it rested on his arm, and practically wrenched her around to walk away from Nathan. The healer frowned, but it quickly vanished as BB glanced back to smile sweetly at him.

Seven o'clock. He looked up at the snow, and felt happier than he had for a long time. Behind him, the children resumed their games.

____________________________

"So who is she?" Josiah asked, leaning in the open doorway of the clinic, his face and clothes wet from the still falling snow. Nathan glanced up from the supplies he was cataloguing, then looked away to hide the blush.

"That bad, huh?" the preacher laughed, entering and shutting the door behind him. "Must have been someone special for you to drop everything to pick her up in the middle of the street. The whole town's buzzing about it."

Nathan's smile fell slightly, and he swallowed. "What are they saying?" he asked, unable to keep the suspicion from his voice as he replaced a set of new bandages into a drawer.

Josiah raised an eyebrow, as he sat in the rocking chair near the window. "They're not saying anything bad, Nathan. The people here are fond of you, you know that. They don't judge you…least not the way people back east might judge." He trailed off, not comfortable with the subject. He knew he was lying, that there were still plenty of people who could only see one color and assumed all others were savages, but Nathan did not need to be reminded of that now. "But I didn't come here to talk about the town, Nate. I came to hear about it from you….So who is she?"

Nathan barely heard Josiah's words, glossing over them and shutting them away with all the other platitudes he'd been subjected to over the years. Instead, he refocused his attention on BB, and his bright smile was quickly back in full force.

"I met her in the cornstalks, Josiah. She was my conductor on the railroad. I think that she was supposed to leave me at the first way station, and let me find my way on my own, but, for some reason she stayed with me for over three months…." He licked his lips, remembering that autumn with a mixture of acrimony and exultation, and his eyes took on a faraway quality.

"I ran when I was still very young, Josiah. I heard that there might be a war to split the north from the south, a war over slavery among other things, and I wanted to be apart of it. Someone I knew from the plantation told me of the railroad, and, after almost a year of trying to get in touch with them, I was given my pass. I was to run at night to a place in the farthest cornfield, where I would meet a girl. She'd get me North."

He sighed, remembering the light way she'd called his name after he'd been standing, shivering with fear, for almost a minute in the designated place. She had sounded like an angel, and for a strange moment he thought he had died without knowing it. Then she emerged into the light of the half moon, wearing a strange beret and a corn colored coat, much like the ones he saw her wearing today. She'd raised her head, and the gold locket had glinted from beneath the bright red ribbon on her neck. Her pride over her ownership of that bauble had been the signal for him, the promise that it was possible to own instead of being owned.

"Boston met me, took my hand, and drew me far away. The whole time I was with her, I was sure the dogs would find me, that I would be dragged back before I had even made it one mile. But she took me in hand, and I followed. She didn't leave me, though I know she could have, probably should have since, every second she was with me, she ran the risk of being lynched or captured with me. Even when we crossed the border, when she nudged me and said that we were in the North, she stayed with me until I reached my destination of New Jersey. The brother of someone from the plantation lived there and was going to put me up, and Boston Bound decided it was her duty to see me the whole way."

"Why did she do that?" Josiah asked softly.

"I…I fell in love with her instantly upon seeing her, Josiah. I spent all our time together trying to make her fall in love with me too. I must have been doing something right, 'cause, even though she never came right out and said anything, she stayed with me, like I said." He smiled, his face lighting up again as he recalled the way she had rebuffed him, always with a twinkle in her eye. But, as he said, she'd stayed with him.

"When we got to Trenton, she kissed me. I knew for sure then that I had succeeded, but she was dedicated to the railroad, and I was going to go to war. She made me promise to come to Boston after it was over, to find her. She would be with her sister there…it was where she wanted to go more than anywhere else in the world." He shook his head, and sighed.

"Like many, the war…and what happened after…changed me Josiah. I didn't want to be anywhere in the east anymore. But I did try to find her, just as I tried to find my own family. I used to write her letters care of her sister during and after the war, but I have no idea if she ever received them. I came out here as soon as the war was over, as you know, though I did make a detour to that cold city whose name she borrowed. She never made it to her sister's, though I looked. So I left."

"Now she is here."

"Yes," Nathan's dreamy gaze became solid again as he looked at Josiah. "She's here, with a new last name and a husband. BB Weller. It's a nice name, though I will miss the old one. But if BB is who she is now, then it is BB with whom I will try and spend as much time with as possible before she leaves me again."

"Sounds like a plan." Josiah grinned.

Nathan grinned back, and waggled his eyebrows mischievously. The preacher laughed.

________________________________

Nathan jogged across the street to the saloon, trying to ignore the slight shake of nervousness that had invaded his heart. It was still an hour before dinner, but, after staring at all his clothes, he'd come to the conclusion that nothing he had was suitable. Mrs. Potter had tried, but nothing she owned was big enough for him. Which only left Buck – and the suit Ezra had given him last year.

Calming himself, he pushed into the hot saloon, the heat from the fireplaces and chandeliers drying his wet hair instantly. Looking around, he saw Buck sitting with JD and Ezra, chatting animatedly about something. The kid was laughing at whatever Buck was saying, but Ezra seemed to be paying little attention, his eyes staring blankly at the amber liquid in the glass in front of him. Steeling himself for what he foresaw would be a great deal of teasing at his expense, Nathan strode over to the table and stood, waiting for them to notice him. It didn't take long.

"Nate! Hey, we thought you had a date," Buck kidded.

"You gonna tell us who she is now?" JD asked eagerly.

Ezra remained silent, his face losing all expression. Nathan frowned, recognizing the poker face, but chose to ignore it. He could care less what that Southern snob thought.

"Not yet, JD, maybe later. Right now, I need a favor Buck."

"Sure, anything."

"Can I borrow that suit Ezra gave you?"

"Sure! Heaven knows I never get a chance to wear it. But don't you think it might be a bit flashy, especially since a certain Mr. Weller will be there too."

"Well, I don't have to wear the whole thing. Maybe just the pants and jacket – they're dark brown, right?"

"Yep, but you'll need…." Buck was cut off by the loud snap of a deck of cards being shuffled into one hand.

"I have a plain white shirt you can borrow, Mr. Jackson. No ruffles and a grandfather collar that is loose on me. If you don't wear a tie, I believe you'll achieve the appearance you desire." Ezra said this slowly, his eyes on his hands, where he was spinning the two of diamonds about the deck.

"Well, there you go!" Buck laughed. "I'll got get the suit. You go back to the clinic, Nate. Me and Ez will be by in a couple of minutes, and don't worry," he tapped his nose for secrecy, "we'll make sure no one knows what we're doing." He jumped out of his seat, and Ezra followed by standing in a more genteel manner. The gambler nodded to Nathan, his face still expressionless, then turned to go upstairs, just as Buck disappeared outside to go to the boarding house. This left JD and Nathan in the bar, and the kid was smiling stupidly at the healer.

"All I got to offer you is my hat, but I think you'd reject it," the kid grinned, shrugging. Nathan couldn't help but laugh, and knocked the bowler off of JD's head for good measure before heading back out.

As he walked back to the clinic, his feet slowed slightly. Ezra's expression, or rather, lack of, was really annoying him. He resolved to go and confront the gambler about it later.

_____________________________

Nervous. Without question. Knots in his stomach, tingles in his legs, sweat on his palms. For the hundredth time, Nathan pulled at the collar of the shirt Ezra had let him borrow, amazed that it fit so perfectly. Didn't mean that it wasn't annoying the hell out of him. He looked up at the great oak doors of the hotel, and the light shining through, and set his shoulders. Here we go.

He pushed inside, and shook off some of the falling snow from his hair. The snowfall had turned into a right blizzard outside, and it was soon going to incapacitate the town if it didn't stop soon. A small smile tugged at the corners of the healer's mouth as he realized what that meant.

There was no way that huge great coach would be able to get out of here tomorrow morning. He'd be able to see her for at least one more day.

With a nod to the hotel manager behind the desk, he turned right into the large dining room…and stopped. A large table had been set up in the middle of the room, and all three of the couples from the stage were sitting around it, including BB and her husband.

So much for a quiet dinner.

BB stood, a bright smile on her face, and moved forward to take his hand. "I hope you don't mind Nathan, but Charles invited our traveling companions to join us. You see, we are all moving together to our new home, and have been eating together since we began this journey in Illinois. It seemed odd to stop now, especially since we've become such good friends. Besides, I want them to meet you." She gestured to the table, where five people stood, waiting for him to join them. Trying to hide his disappointment, Nathan put on his best smile and stepped forward to greet them.

"Nathan Jackson, may I introduce Wallace and Lacey Milton," The black couple leaned forward, and Wallace took his hand warmly. Upon closer examination, Nathan realized that Wallace appeared much older than upon first glance, probably as much as ten years older than Josiah, and his wife, a stout woman still dressed in all black, was of equal age, the silver cords in her otherwise black hair standing out starkly. She smiled lightly at him, and lowered her eyes when he took her hand.

"And John and Annabel Street," BB continued, pointing to the white couple. Both had open and ready smiles, and John's grip when he took Nathan's hand was fierce. They looked to be in their late thirties or early forties, but the air of greenhorns still clung to them, as it had to JD when he first arrived.

"Good to meet you, Mr. Jackson," John said, sitting down. The whole table followed suit. "We've heard nothing but good things about you from BB here. We have also heard tell from the esteemed hotel manager that you are part of the law here."

"Yes, it that true Nathan?" BB asked, her face bright.

Nathan simply nodded shyly, his lips curving slightly.

"I never thought I'd see the day…" she continued, the admiration clear in her voice. "The folks here actually accept you that way, to act as the law?"

"Well, most of them," Nathan was blushing now, and kept his gaze averted. "But I ain't alone. There are six others, two of whom you met earlier."

"The white men, the boy and the tall one," Charlie said, nodding, not hiding his distrust. "I take it, of those six men, you're the only one of color."

"Sort of," Nathan's eyes narrowed, as he considered Josiah's slight Hispanic roots, and Vin's relationship with the Indians. "The only black man, in any case."

"Humph. So what is it you do that makes them need you in their group."

"Well, first of all, its not their group. Its our group. And, as to what I bring to it…"

"He's practically a doctor. Least that's what they tell me," BB smiled, and reached a hand over to touch his. He smiled at her. Both were oblivious to the dark look Charlie gave them.

"Not certified, though. They wouldn't allow that, now, would they," Charlie stated fiercely. BB took her hand away, and placed it on her lap.

Nathan looked over at him, bringing his own hands together. "No sir, they wouldn't. I learned to take care of folks in the war, where I was a stretcher bearer. They needed every hand they could get, and the doctors there taught me what they could so as I could help. When I came out here, I happened to be on hand when one of the locals got shot. I took care of him well enough, and the next thing I knew, I was sort of the town's healer. So, no, I ain't no doctor."

"I noticed that didn't stop the bellhop calling you 'the doc,' when I asked him about you, though," BB smiled. "I'm real proud of you Nathan."

Nathan blushed even more deeply, and decided it was definitely time to change the subject. "Well, I didn't come here to talk about me, BB. I'm more interested in hearing about you folks. You know, where you're going, how you got here, and so on."

As one, the faces at the table turned to Charlie, who had obviously taken the role of the leader. The big man smirked, the first expression other than the general frown that he'd worn since arriving.

"We're going to Arizona, Mr. Jackson. We put in together to buy fifty acres of land, and there is three hundred head of cattle waiting for us when we get there."

"Fifty acres, wow! You folks must have paid a pretty penny for that."

"All our savings, Dr. Jackson," Annabel Street supplied, her thin white hands bunching the napkin on the table in front of her. "But we were real careful to make sure the deeds were real and that its not in the middle of Indian country. The six of us are going to work the land together."

"That's an impressive investment. You folks know a lot about ranching?"

"I was on a ranch in east Texas before I went North," Charles said. "Wallace and Lacey were there too. After I made it North to Illinois, I made it my goal to someday own a ranch of my own."

"Yes, we're relying on Mr. Weller and the Miltons to teach us," John Street agreed. "Annabel and I, we're completely green. We were just farmers outside of Springfield, Illinois before coming out here."

"Oh, more than farmers," BB said. "John and Annabel ran a way station for the railroad on the Mississippi. They took in loads of runaways, and found them jobs and places to stay. In fact, that's how I met Charlie." She looked at her husband, and tried to take his hand. He barely registered the affection, and her hand fell back to her lap. She returned her gaze to Nathan, who couldn't resist her dark, deep eyes.

"Charlie was one of the leaders of the railroad on the Mississippi. See, he escaped almost ten years before the war started, and quickly worked to get a pipeline going. He got Lacey and Wallace free, and they took up jobs at the Streets' farm. When Charlie…brought me there, they took me in too." She broke slightly on that last statement, and tried to cover it up with another big smile.

"We were just doing what was best for our country and its people," John said proudly.

"Until the Klan razed our home," Annabel whispered. She looked away, and Lacey took her hand where she was sitting next to her. Silence met this quiet statement, and Nathan licked his lips, remembering all to well the fear those white capes instilled. The end of the war had not been the end of the hatred, something the healer knew well. The face of his father flashed across his memory, and he sighed.

"Oh, but that's all in the past!" BB suddenly cried, breaking the mood. "We're here to talk of the future, isn't that right Charles." Her husband didn't answer. She ignored this, and reached to take Nathan's hand again. "Come, Nathan, why don't you tell us all a bit about what its like out here. So we have an idea of what to expect. This all our first time out here, as you must have guessed."

"Oh, um, well, where would you like me to start."

"Anywhere. Like, are all the towns like this one?"

"Hell no!" Nathan said emphatically. "No, no, we're definitely unique." He pursed his lips, trying to find the way to best explain his words. Luckily, he was interrupted at that moment by a clearing throat. He turned around to find himself looking at a rather uncomfortable looking bellhop.

"Mr. Jackson, I apologize for disturbing you, but I have a message for you from Mr. Standish." The boy held out a piece of paper.

"Ezra? What…oh, never mind," he took the paper, and placed a coin in the boy's hand that he had dug out from his pocket. With a nodded thank you, the boy flew away. Unfolding the paper, Nathan frowned at the words, then sighed.

"I'm sorry, but I have been called away for a moment. Please order, and I'll rejoin you as soon as I can." He stood, his face holding a rather irritated expression. "If you would be so kind as to tell the waiter that I'll have my usual. He'll know what I want." He attempted a grin, then bowed slightly before leaving the room. The three couples looked at each other, then, ever the conversation starter, Annabel started to talk about the weather.

Nathan wandered into the lobby, then across to the parlor, where Ezra was standing holding one of his handkerchiefs tightly over Josiah's left hand, the growing red stain obvious through the thin material. The preacher looked a bit green, but otherwise mostly just looked embarrassed.

"What did you do!" Nathan chastised, taking the older man's hand and lifting the fabric away. Josiah had a deep cut on his left forefinger, running from the base almost to the first knuckle in a diagonal pattern. It was bleeding profusely.

"Slipped on the church steps while holding a handsaw," Josiah replied sheepishly.

"And how did you become involved?" Nathan demanded, shooting a look at the gambler.

Ezra frowned, "Merely nearby, Mr. Jackson."

Josiah shot him a look, surprised at the darkness of the response. Ezra, in fact, had been standing at the base of the steps, looking as if he was deciding whether to come in or not. He had been kicking clumps of snow from the stone steps, clearly oblivious to the damage he was doing to his high quality boots. Josiah had spotted him from the window, where he'd been using the saw to trim the new sills he's installed before sanding them down. He'd gone outside to encourage Ezra to enter when he'd slipped on all the accumulated snow. It hadn't even occurred to him to put the saw down first. A bit of hindsight he most certainly regretted now.

"Well, you're going to need stitches. Darn it, Josiah."

"It wasn't my idea to come get you!" The preacher insisted, "I'm truly sorry, Nathan, but Ezra made me come here. I mean, I could probably just get Vin to…"

"No, no, I'll do it. Won't take long. C'mon Ezra, you can help."

"At your service, Mr. Jackson," the gambler bowed deeply.

"Ha ha," Nathan mocked. He rewrapped the finger, so the fabric was better situated to cut off the blood flow, and tied it off. "First, though, you two may as well come with me to explain to my friends what's going on."

Josiah smiled, but Ezra's face paled. "If its alright with you, Mr. Jackson, I'd rather not."

"What?" Both men looked at him.

"I said, I'd rather not. Was I unclear?" A poker face greeted Nathan's narrowed eyes, and the healer felt he finally understood the gambler's earlier reaction.

"Something the matter with my friends, Ezra? You think you're too good for them?" Nathan seethed, his face darkening.

"Mr. Jackson, I would never…"

"Hush up, Ezra!" The healer snapped angrily, allowing his irritation to take over. "Look, I don't know what you're problem is, but you're getting over it right now, understand? I won't have you disrespecting people I care about just 'cause you have some twisted notion about skin color. I've had just about enough of your condescending Southern bull on the subject over this past year. You know, I'd thought you'd changed after the whole Li Pong thing, but I guess not. Well, you're going to change now."

"I assure you Mr. Jackson, my feelings on this matter have absolutely nothing…"

"Don't want to hear it. Don't want to know. But let me tell you, if I even get one inkling that you still got those racist thoughts in your head, I swear to God, it won't be Chris whom you'll have to fear running you out of town, but me. Got that?"

Ezra's face looked so startled, Josiah almost started laughing. But the gambler quickly gathered his dignity about him, and took a deep breath.

"Well, then, by all means, Mr. Jackson. Lead the way." He bowed again, if possible even more deeply than before. Nathan gave him an exasperated look, then turned on his heel to head back to the dining room, not even bothering to see if Josiah and Ezra followed.

Back in the dining room, Nathan strolled in just as the waiter walked away with their orders. He nodded at Nathan, and the healer nodded back. The people at the table watched him approach, then stood as they realized that the two odd looking white men behind Nathan were with him.

"BB, Charles, everyone, I'm afraid I must leave you for about ten minutes. One of my friends here," he looked at Josiah, who smiled crookedly at the couples, "decided to try navigating some ice encrusted steps while holding a handsaw. Josiah Sanchez, may I introduce BB and Charles Weller, Wallace and Lacey Milton, and John and Annabel Street."

A general chorus of "nice to meet yous" and "hellos" met the statement, in return for which Josiah apologized profusely for interrupting their dinner.

"And this here is Ezra Standish." Ezra tipped his hat at the gentlemen, and took each of the ladies hands in his own to kiss. Annabel actually giggled, and John gave her a disapproving look.

"Pleasure to meet you all," Ezra told them, his deep southern drawl unmistakable. Nathan's companions all stiffened involuntarily, but Ezra didn't notice nor was he aware of the fact that both Lacey and BB wiped the hands he'd kissed on their napkins. His eyes were fixed on Charles Weller's, and the large black man actually shifted back a step. Nathan's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the moment.

"You two know each other?"

Ezra looked askance at Nathan, then back at Charles, a small smile touching his lips. "I'm not sure. Do you know me, Mr. Weller?"

"Standish…no, can't say I've ever known anyone by that name," Charlie replied quickly, shaking his head nervously. Abruptly, the large man turned to look at BB, "I'm sorry baby, but I suddenly don't feel that hungry. I think I'll go and lie down."

"Charlie?" She couldn't hide her surprise, and shot a nasty look at Ezra. The gambler rolled back a bit on his heels, looking for all the world like he was not paying attention. "I really don't think…"

"No back talk, BB. I will see you upstairs." He nodded at the others, and at Nathan, then left, almost at a run.

BB looked at Ezra, her face puzzled. But he had sidled to stand a little behind Nathan, his hat lowered to partially cover his face.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand what came over him," she apologized nervously.

"Nonsense, sweety. We all know what you husband is like," Annabel soothed. Glancing up, she blushed when she realized that there were strangers at the table. She dropped her gaze to the floor. Nathan, confused and irritated, quickly tried to change the subject.

"Well, um, I, uh, I guess I'll be getting Josiah here to the clinic. I'll be back as fast as I can. Don't hesitate to start without me." Nathan said, taking his closest friend by the arm.

"Pleasure to meet you folks," Josiah nodded.

"Likewise," Ezra added, tipping his hat. He led the way out, followed closely by the others.

At the table, BB looked at the others, then down at her lap. Lacey shifted to take Charlie's seat, and took her hand. With a more subdued air, the remaining members of the party sat and quietly waited for their food.

____________________________

"You gonna tell me what that was all about?" Nathan demanded, pushing Ezra forward so that the gambler slid in the snow. Ezra just shot him a look, and kept walking.

"I said, you gonna tell me what that was about!" Nathan shoved him again, and this time Ezra went down, falling onto one knee.

"Back off, Nathan," the gambler spat. He stood up, brushing the snow from his plum wool coat and pinstriped trousers with black gloved hands. "It is none of your business."

"If it involves Boston, it is my business."

"Well then I can assure you with absolute conviction that it has nothing whatsoever to do with your erstwhile Juliet," Ezra replied, facing Nathan directly.

"It involves her husband," Nathan answered, crossing his arms.

"Brother Nathan," Josiah tried, stepping forward to take the healer's shoulder in one hand. "I think…"

"Shut up Josiah!" Nathan yelled, jerking from the grip. "No one asked you."

"Don't talk to him like that," Ezra rebounded quickly. At almost the same instant, his face took on an expression of astonishment, "Did I just say that?" he asked of the air. Josiah cracked an impromptu smile. Nathan merely glowered.

"Fine, you don't want to tell me, you low-life, don't tell me. But, God help me, you do anything to hurt that girl and…"

"Yeah, yeah. Cry me a river."

That was it, Nathan moved forward and used both hands to shove Ezra backwards into the snow. With a heavy whump, the gambler landed hard into a snow drift, half his body disappearing into the white powder.

"Get out of my sight!" Nathan declared. "Josiah. Clinic. Now." And with that, he strode off into the night, presumably to go home. Josiah watched him leave, glanced down at Ezra who was having difficulty extricating himself, and shrugged an "I'm sorry." Then he took off after the long legged healer.

"That went well," Ezra muttered to himself. With a little effort, he got back to his feet, and stomped some of the snow from his legs. He looked around to make sure that the others were out of sight, then looked back up the street to the brightly lit hotel, glowing like a beacon against the dark night. Breathing slowly out of his nose, he considered his options. Looking down, he pulled out his pocket watch and angled it towards the light. Seven thirty. He popped it shut, and patted it back into place. After a moment, a wicked gleam came to his eye, and, steeling his jaw, slowly walked down an alley, fully intending to return to the hotel by the back door.

______________________________________

By the time the clock in the dining room chimed eleven, Nathan and BB were the only ones left in the room. The other couples had long since retired after the long stage coach ride, and everyone else had either gone to the saloon or gone to bed. The cook and waiters had closed the kitchen, and the only noise came from the night manager flipping over the pages of the day's Clarion out in the lobby.

For a while, neither person at the table spoke, simply reveling in the realization that they were together again. It was taking all of Nathan's will power not to lean over and kiss the girl before him.

From the way she stared back, he couldn't help but wonder if she felt that way too.

"What happened to you?" he whispered at last, breaking the sweet silence that had blanketed them. "Why didn't you go to your sister? I went there looking for you after I couldn't find my family, but she told me you never came. I was afraid you were dead, and that your sister simply couldn't bring herself to tell me."

"Dead? Oh, Nathan," she shook her head. "No, I wasn't dead. Though, for a while there…" Her voice trailed off, and a small hand shook as it moved to cover her mouth.

"What happened?"

She shut her eyes, and when she opened them, there were tears there. "Its…hard. I…I…okay, get a hold of yourself BB," she said sternly to herself. "After I left you, which had to be one of the hardest things I've ever done," she smiled at him, "I continued to work on the railroad. I worked all through the war, Nathan, and I never once lost a one. Got everyone to the free lands, without a single lynching. Then, when we learnt of Appomattox, I thought that was it. It was over. I was so excited, I never even saw what was coming." She shivered, and closed her eyed.

"Man, I was proud, Nathan. I didn't think…I thought I could walk in the open air without fear," she shook her head. Nathan took her hand in his, understanding and empathy thick in his gaze. He knew only too well what it had been like. He'd tried to find his family amid all that pain, finally running North and the promise of finding her to get away from it. But it had been little better up there – the war had damaged everyone. Only out here in the West was he able to let the images of the war and its aftermath go.

"I was still in the South, down in Alabama, when the war ended." BB continued, her voice a bit tremulous. She looked into his calm eyes, gathering strength from them, and sighed. "I remember watching with complete amazement as the world around me went mad. I saw a few black slaves rising against their masters, burning anything left worth saving, but that was nothing compared to the blame the former masters placed on us. All those confederate soldiers, burnt out and destroyed – they only had one thought, to find every black face they could and crush it, as if we were to blame for all that devastation. And then there came the Klan, appearing out of nowhere like the four horsemen hailing Armageddon. There were bodies everywhere, and I swear, I could hear the dogs chasing men, women and children through the woods all night long. You could almost taste the insanity that plagued the people."

"I wanted to get North, to go to Boston, to the beautiful city I dreamed of every night, but all my routes were blocked. Then the soldiers…a whole knot of them…captured me and took me, kicking and screaming, all the way to hell….After that, all I know is that when I came to, I was in Tennessee somewhere, near Memphis and the river. I was being taken care of by some other black folks, who told me that they'd been carrying me along with them for over a week. Apparently, they'd found me on the riverbank, naked and nearly dead." Her eyes glazed over, and she looked out the window into the darkness beyond. Nathan didn't say a word, simply held her hand. "One of them was Charlie." She shuddered, remembering the way her husband's coal black eyes had looked when she first met him. Deep in those depths, she'd seen so much sadness, and so much fury, and all that promise. It had taken her breath away, partly in fear and partly in admiration. She just wished she had known then that it wasn't love.

But she knew it now, as she looked back at the man in front of her. He looked at her with those intense eyes, so full of love and compassion, and she remembered what it had been like to love someone without conditions.

"You don't have to continue," Nathan told her, misreading her gaze. It surprised him when she suddenly smiled.

"Oh, but I can't. You see, that was when everything changed, when my luck changed." She smiled even more brightly, and tugged at the locket around her neck. "Do you know how I still have this? I swallowed it. At some point, I must have been aware enough to know when I passed it 'cause Charlie said he found it gripped in my fist when they found me. It meant that the soldiers had failed. I was still me," she smiled, and gripped the locket tightly.

"Charlie got us a boat, and we went up the Mississippi all the way to Illinois. I remember when we went past Saint Louis, and Charlie whispered in my ear that we were almost there. By the time we reached Springfield, I could almost walk again on my own. I never wanted to leave." The tears continued to fall as she looked out the window again.

"I never made it to Boston, but that's okay. I realized when I was in Springfield, when I married Charlie beneath all those trees with the smell of chamomile and pine filling my senses, that it wasn't really the city that I wanted, but what it represented. It meant freedom to me, and…I already had that." She turned back to him, the smile on her face almost wistful.

"Boston is right here," she whispered to him, tapping her chest, "and its here," she reached across and tapped his chest as well. He gripped the hand when it didn't draw back from its place over his heart, and brought it up to his lips. She let him kiss it, her eyes still silently dripping tears.

Without conscious thought, he leaned forward at the same time she did, their lips meeting in a touch as light as the snow that fell past the window.

The night manager glanced in at the couple, then did what he did best. He averted his eyes.

To be Continued in Part Two