JD watched over Mary's shoulder as she posted a notice outside the newspaper office door. She turned and jumped slightly when she saw him there.

"Sorry Mrs. Travis. Didn't mean to startle you."

"Quite alright Mr. Dunne. I was just focused on this and not paying attention. You are getting to be almost as good at sneaking up on someone as Mr. Larabee is."

He barely heard the words, captivated instead on the poster she had posted. "There's gonna be a carnival?"

She smiled at the youthful exuberance that still came through in the youngest member of the team that protected their town. It was apparent that even the experiences in the three months or so they had been doing that job hadn't yet taken the spirited enthusiasm from him. His reaction was almost identical to her own, much younger, son.

"I wouldn't get too terribly excited Mr. Dunne. I doubt it will be on a par with anything you might be familiar with from your childhood back east. Little more than a few games of chance and some wares for sale."

Not taking his eyes from the poster, he replied. "Oh, I never really went to the ones at home. Ma didn't - we didn't have the money to spare on something like that. Did sneak into one when I was just a few years older than Billy is now. It was shut down for the night, but even just seeing the posters and such was something." He grinned. "This might be a small show, but it says they have games and a side show, so I'm betting it'll be a lot of fun!"

Mary found it easy to forget how difficult a life the young man had had. His eternal optimism belied the hardship and poverty he'd experienced as the son of a young widow who worked hard to put food on the table. She hoped she was doing as fine a job raising her son as Mrs. Dunne had. She was about to say that when he turned with a broad smile, and she realized this might not be the moment to remind him of his still fresh loss.

"Yes, no doubt. The manager sent me a telegram asking it be put in the newspaper, but since this week's paper is set, I had to decline. We agreed posters around town would be the next best thing."

"Better maybe, since folks passing through or who don't read the paper regular will hear about it that way too."

"Hear about what?" They both startled at Chris's words. JD turned to Mary. "You're right. He does sneak up on a body." Looking back at the leader, and the fact he wasn't laughing, sobered JD. "Uh, there's a carnival coming to town. On Friday afternoon and Saturday. I was just saying to Mrs. Travis that is sounds like fun."

"Sounds like trouble. Those folks can't be trusted."

"Just because they chose not to call one place home doesn't mean they are deceitful. I can think of a group of men who until very recently didn't call one spot home, and they seem to be decent enough folk. Most of the time."

He favoured her with a toned-down version of his standard stare. "Difference between drifting and grifting. These folks run scams and do whatever is needed to con good people out of their money."

"Mr. Larabee, do I hear you slandering my name?"

Mary chuckled to herself at the small crowd that was gathering from a simple poster being placed on the wall as Ezra and Nathan drew near. Perhaps this was a for more effective means of communicating the news than trying to publish a weekly paper.

"Morning Ezra. No, not this time." He pointed at the poster. "But it could be friends of yours are coming into town."

"I would hazard the comment that it is offensive for you to make the assumption that I am familiar with every charlatan, miscreant, swindler or ne'er-do-well in the county."

"More like in the territory Ezra." Nathan corrected with a broad grin. "At least."

Ezra offered a wry smile as his own response, hiding the reaction he would have preferred to be able to offer. They weren't wrong. There was a much better than even chance he knew whoever it might be coming into town. He could make that claim without even looking beyond the word Carnival on the notice. As soon as that had leapt at him from the page, his mind began filtering through the likely parties involved, and ranking them in terms of how much damage and destruction they would leave in their wake, both for him and Four Corners. He also started calculating the odds that he would find himself forced to leave town with them, depending of course on just how much damage they could do to his still deservedly fragile reputation. That idea bothered him more than it should.

He sighed dramatically, resignation evident, before asking the next question. "Is it possible, Mrs. Travis, for me to bother you for the name of the individual who has approached you regarding publicity for this venture?"

"Of course Mr. Standish. I got the telegram," she favoured Chris with a glance, "and a money transfer for full payment, from a Mr. Oliver Sikes."

Ezra groaned to himself, keeping his countenance neutral. If the reprobate in charge of this travelling bad of marauders was hiding behind the anonymity of Charles Dickens aliases, it had to be Walter Dickens, no relation, despite his claims, to the famed author. On the positive side, while the man was a cheater and fast talker of the highest order he was fundamentally harmless when it came to any sort of aggression or overt acts. On the downside, he knew Ezra. Knew him far too well. The risk of uncomfortable confrontation and disclosure was considerably higher than the gambler felt comfortable with.

"Well?"

"Yes Mr. Larabee, I am, I believe, passingly familiar with the name, though at this moment, any specific details elude me. I shall have to ruminate on the moniker and determine why it is triggering a response, however faint."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "In other words, you need to figure out if this guy is trouble for you."

"And if you are trying to figure it out that means he is." Chris added, a hint of anger in his voice.

"I am trying to determine if he is trouble for the town, as was requested of me. I shall do so in the solitude of my patrol. Gentlemen." He smiled as the turned to Mary and added, "Madam, a pleasure as always."

She watched him walk away then turned angrily on the others. "You ask him for his help, then berate him when he is able to offer it to you. No small wonder the rest of the town won't trust him when the men he works with treat him that way." She stormed back indoors before anyone could respond.

JD looked after her in mild shock. "What did I do?"

"Nothing JD. None of us did. You gotta learn that understanding women is a lifelong pursuit of a goal you will never achieve."

Nathan looked to Chris. "Now that sounds like something Ezra would have said."

Chris grinned slightly. "Come to think of it, he did."

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Ezra rode the fence line on the Gordon property as he mulled over his options. There really wasn't a lot to be considering. He could try to come up with an excuse for being out of town for the next few days, but that would raise too much curiosity from the others, knowing the move was inspired by the arrival of the carnival. Staying away from the activity was a possibility, but not a practical one. In the first place, Chris would undoubtedly assign him duty there, especially knowing how awkward things could get. There seemed to be a perverse pleasure that Chris took in putting Ezra into the thick of situations like that.

Leaving town was shaping up to be the ideal choice. He had earned his pardon from Judge Travis, so that matter was clear. And Four Corners was proving to be anything but lucrative for his more mercenary instincts. The money to be made at the card table was slim pickings most of the time, save for the occasional stage coach traveller in town for an overnight stay. The cowhands and more casual transients rarely had sufficient funds to make the game worth the effort, other than serving to keep his skills tuned. Even his fellow lawmen (and wasn't that a phrase he never would expected to hear himself say) had become reluctant to play with him, learning quickly his skills far outmatched theirs. It didn't help that there was still a suspicion he was cheating, not that any had been able to figure out how. Nor would they, since for him to do so was both foolish and unnecessary.

He was caught off guard as he contemplated how much the idea of moving on was proving to be unsettling. His head knew it made sense, but there as a feeling of melancholy which was totally unfamiliar to him as he began planning out his departure. The simple realization he would go back to town and give them notice was the first inkling he had that things had changed. True, there were items in his room he would wish to retrieve, but he could do that without having to encounter the others. So, why had he already begun drafting his goodbyes to each of them? That was farcical. No, all he needed to do was get in, get his things, and slip out. He could leave the payment outstanding for his room on the dresser, along with a payment to Mrs. Potter to clear his debt there.

He pulled up on Chaucer's reins. Leave payments? He was skipping town. Why on earth did the idea of leaving any payment pop into his head? "Chaucer, I am being to fear for my sanity." Chaucer ignored the comment, and Ezra gently prodded him forward. Well, Mrs. Potter had been through a great deal in the last few months, and he supposed he could spare what was owed to her. He had allowed for it in his expense plan when he expected to be staying on. And she had been one of the first people in town to treat him as something better that scrapings from the bottom of a boot. He would miss the shy smiles her children offered any time he came into the store.

He reined to a stop again. "Oh my heavens. I am thinking about who I shall miss? Ezra Standish, you're getting soft, and after such a short period of time."

Chaucer started his gentle trot without needing the encouragement. He knew there was water and sweet-grass ahead and was tired of the delays. Unbidden, Ezra's mind wandered to the other farewells he would be making.

Mr. Jackson would assuredly not miss him. Their relationship had been, to say the least, strained from the first meeting. Ezra knew the blame for that lay solely at his feet, although he was willing to rationalize that history and tradition were key factors. The fact that the young former slave ignored that history and tended to Ezra's injuries with the same attention as he did any other man's was a detail he chose not to dwell on. Outside of that scope, it was clear to see Mr. Jackson had little if any trust in the southerner, taking a much higher moral road than Ezra could ever even hope to see, let alone follow.

Likewise, Mr. Larabee would undoubtedly be relieved to see him ride out for the last time. While there was a unique skill set he provided to the team, Ezra knew he had irreparably damaged his standing the moment he left his guard duty to search for gold three months earlier. It had come terrifyingly close to costing the men their lives, and Ezra doubted any of them would ever forget, let alone forgive, that act. Larabee certainly wouldn't. Every assignment since then had been coloured by that deed, and a trust broken that badly could not heal. He doubted he'd get so much as a "take care of yourself" when he bid the man farewell.

It would no doubt concern the preacher when Ezra left town. Just a little. He couldn't get past the idea that Josiah Sanchez had designs on reforming him. Saving him. Why, he couldn't imagine. Certainly no one else had ever been the least bit interested in the assignment. There was far too little material to work with. The idea that this gentle giant of a man, with his own demons to deal with, would take any interest in the spiritual wellbeing of a gambler was laughable, which was why Ezra was at a loss to determine why he didn't find it amusing. He could foresee a look of disappointment, although not surprise, when he said goodbye to the big man.

He had no doubt it would have been entertaining to watch Mr. Dunne mature in the west. The overly-eager puppy dog like youngster was already showing signs of turning into a disturbingly upright and moral citizen, leaving Ezra puzzled as to why he was developing a fondness for him. It concerned him that the boy, and it was hard to not put that label on him, would be too careless and not have that chance to become the man he was destined to become. Of course, he did seem to have found a guardian determined to insure unfortunate happenstance did not come to pass. If anyone could protect the lad from himself, it would be Mr. Wilmington. Why Buck would take that on wasn't hard to understand. For all his bravado and bluster, he was little more than a big kid himself, and the duo seemed to be an ideal fit. It was a friendship Ezra envied - yet another emotion he didn't know he possessed. They would both express a regret that he was leaving, and within a day or two would likely have forgotten he'd ever been there.

That left only Mr. Tanner. Vin. He was the only one of the team Ezra felt even moderately comfortable referring to by his given name, not that he would do so publicly. There was a bit of a kindred spirit he felt with the tracker. Perhaps it was their solitary nature, the loner in each of them. Perhaps the peripherally similar upbringing - Vin having lost his mother when he was young, and Ezra never having made too strong a connection with his own. Perhaps it was simply that Vin seemed to be less apt to judge him, to label him. More willing to just accept him into the fold and move on with life. This was the one farewell he didn't want to have to make, because he knew it would be the most difficult.

Ezra came back the present when he noted Chaucer had stopped his advance. He was grazing peacefully, satisfied to simply enjoy some time in the sun. "It is fortunate no one had ill intentions toward me, the way my attention wandered. Are you ready to seek new territories my friend? Leave Four Corners for the next venue?" He didn't expect a response, so was a bit taken aback when Chaucer shook his head. "You think there is an alternate solution?" When Chaucer nodded, Ezra came to the conclusion he had been in the sun too long. Yes, Chaucer was decidedly more intelligent than any horse he had ever seen, let alone have the good fortune to own, but the notion he would be consulting on his future with the animal was unnerving. Still, there was something to be said for basic animal instinct, was there not.

"So, you perceive a viable option? Well, if you can see it, I certainly should be able to. Clearly the issue is worthy of further ruminations on the way home."

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tbc