He'd always lived his life like he was ready to leave; bags packed and waiting by the door. That was the way he liked it, the way things had always been since before he could remember. Maude's legacy, if ever there was one, that constant sense of wanting to see what was over the next hill. And if he left a thousand acquaintances behind in his wake, there were a thousand more just waiting for him beyond the horizon. He'd never known anything more than that, never wanted it either. Roots were for trees, that's what Ezra had always told himself. ----------------- He might say it started with JD. Watching his ill-starred courtship of Casey, as many mis-steps as it was possible for one individual to make, yet still he persevered, reinforcing everything Ezra had always thought about the blessed state of matrimony. It was abundantly clear to anyone with eyes that Casey intended to let JD chase her till she caught him. "Don't it make you want to settle down, Ezra?" Buck asked. They were in the sheriff's office, both looking through the window at the scene unfolding outside; they couldn't hear what was said by Casey and JD, increasingly frustrated gestures were enough to tell the tale. "Not that the path of true love is running all that smoothly today." "I've done all the settling down I intend to do, Mr Wilmington," Ezra replied. "I remain in this god-forsaken town against my better judgement." Casey had thrown her hands in the air, then turned on her heel and stalked away. After a moment, his mouth hung amusingly open in surprise, JD followed - he was still talking, even if the line of Casey's back should have told him she didn't want to hear anything he had to say. "Thought about finding yourself a Mrs Standish?" Buck continued, a speculative expression on his face. "Can't say I have." Ezra busied himself with checking his gun, knowing where this line of questioning always led. There was no putting it off, no evasion tactic that he hadn't tried a dozen times before without success. Wife, children, white picket fence - Buck was such a romantic when it came down to matters of the heart. "I guess Maude's a tough act to follow." It took a moment before Ezra could respond. "You could say that," he replied, certain he was fooling no-one. Buck nodded, as if satisfied by the response; Ezra took the opportunity to leave, before his true feelings about the suitability of Maude Standish as a role model came to light. ----------------- It was bad enough he'd drawn the short straw, being volunteered by Chris to collect a part for Mary's printing press that had arrived in Ridge City by rail. Worse than that, he had Nathan as his companion, which effectively put a crimp in any plans Ezra might make to spend his time in the fleshpots and gambling dens Ezra was sure he could find even in such a relative backwater if he looked hard enough. They'd made good time, covering the miles easily without pushing the horses beyond their endurance. The part he'd collected had been small enough to fit in a saddlebag, just as Mary had assured him would be the case; just the thought of doing this self-same journey any other way made Ezra wince. Bad enough that he only got to cast an experienced eye over the local gaming establishments, but if he'd done so after alighting from a wagon then his reputation would have been tarnished forever. He hadn't even suggested to Nathan that they stay in town. Hard experience had taught Ezra many things and one of them was that not a hotel or rooming house in Ridge City would let Nathan have a bed, so it was pointless to make plans to overnight there. Pointless and not a little cruel, if truth be told, though Ezra would have denied any stripe of altruism in any of his actions till the last breath left his body. By the time he'd finished with the horses, Nathan had a fire going and had started a pot of coffee. "You, sir, are a godsend," Ezra said, taking the tin mug Nathan extended to him. The coffee was foul, of course, but strong enough to strip paint, just the way Ezra liked it. He knew his palate should probably be more refined, but how could that be helped in the middle of nowhere? "You're welcome," Nathan said, putting his own mug down by his side to cool a little, like he always did. "Nothing stopping you from staying in town, Ezra," he continued. "And miss the chance to taste some more of your excellent coffee?" Ezra replied, raising his mug in the semblance of a toast. Nathan shook his head slightly, then picked up his own mug and stared down into its contents for a long moment. "You know Buck was wrong, don't you?" The words were such a non sequitur it took a moment for Ezra to even realise Nathan had spoken them. "Wrong?" He'd all but forgotten Nathan had been there for that conversation; he'd been in one of the cells, patching up one of the town drunks whose otherwise solid head had come into contact with an even more solid hitching post. "Seems to me that you fit in just fine, like you already settled down and didn't know it." Nathan shrugged. "That's how I see it anyway. Why else would you still be around?" Ezra considered that for a moment, thinking about all those years when he'd been minutes from leaving one of a hundred towns, not even bothering to say goodbye. As much as he'd hate to admit it, Nathan was probably right. He'd put down roots without noticing, made associations that mattered more than he realised - why else would he put Nathan's feelings before his own comfort without even the semblance of an argument? "Why else indeed," he said.

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