Reed '04: Moments Of Appreciation

I'm didn't used to be the sort to lie about in bed wasting the day away. Course, some would say I don't really have a bed to do that in. Snort. My wagon is comfortable enough, and tucking in on the ground never bothered me much. But I'm willing to admit sleeping in Ezra's bed is definitely better than any other place I've ever slept.

Ezra's got 'em all fooled. They all think he's got some kind o' down mattress. He don't. Has himself down pillows and I'll freely admit those area mighty fine place ta lay my head, but his mattress ain't stuffed with feathers. No, the mattress is filled with straw jus' like every other one in town.

I can't help but snicker when I think about the rest o' the boys believing he's lyin' in luxury while they jus' got to make do. We've all been in town as long as Ezra has, some even longer, so you'd think they'd have noticed if he'd had something as big as a mattress special delivered. Amazing how a few well placed words can create an impression. Ezra says I do the same thing with silence, but I'm not sure I understand that. Figure I'll just trust his judgement on that.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Ezra's bed. I snuggle in a bit. Hard to forget, but hell it's early. Sun ain't even up yet.

Ain't the mattress that makes it such a nice place to sleep and wallow for a bit, although I do think it's probably a bit better than most in town. Mostly cause Ezra makes sure the ropes stay tight and the straw that stuffs the mattress is replaced once in awhile. Also has the sheets laundered regular. He even asked the Chinese guy that runs the local laundry to hang lavender with his when they dry on the line so they smell better than most.

The quilt he's got is a real fine thing. Real fine. Said it had been made from some o' Maude's old dresses. We both laughed our fool heads off when he told me the story about how her 'trousseau' came to be 'positively ruined beyond repair'.

Ezra said Emma, an old house slave that belonged to the rotten bastard of an uncle Maude was leaving Ezra with at the time of the 'incident', had salvaged as much of the fabric as she could and made the quilt for him. He kind o' got this real fond smile when he talked about Emma. Makes me glad he's got somethin' to remember her by. Pretty sure that even though the quilt is from Maude's stuff it ain't her he thinks about when he looks at it, and it ain't his mother that makes him smile when he runs his fingers over it.

S'got some real pretty colors to it. My favorite is the dark blue stuff. Ezra told me the color was called cobalt. Cobalt. Hunh. Never knew that was a color before. Ezra says he likes the yellow. Called it saffron. No idea what the pattern is but I'm sure they call it somethin'. Women always have names for stuff like that. Bet Ezra knows. One of these days I'll have to ask him.

Anyway, it's real nice to sleep under too. Especially against bare skin. All that silk and satin and bit's o' high quality linen, damn good stuff. Other than Ezra's touch it's the nicest thing I've ever had against me. Must have slipped a bit during the night so I pull it up again, and curl in closer to Ezra.

The bed's a nice place. Yes indeed. Smells good, feels good. But it don't hurt that Ezra really puts out some heat when he sleeps. Desert is always cold at night, even in the summer time it gets chilly.

Can't understand how Ezra can claim to be cold without me in bed with him. Curling up next to him is like curling up around a warm ember. I like it a lot.

Find it hard to sleep without him anymore. Wake up stiff when I gotta sleep alone. Not sure if it's the cold or if its jus' 'cause I'm on guard so much when I'm alone. Don't matter. Just know my joints creak and pop like thin twigs in a strong wind. Much better to wake up warm and relaxed. When I gotta sleep alone I need at least two cups o' coffee laced with whiskey to warm up my blood and get it flowing again.

I sigh and stretch a bit. Like to wake up before Ezra so I can take my time and just enjoy this. Want ta take enough time out to jus' appreciate how good I got it. Don't want to be so stupid as to take this for granted….or assume it's gonna last forever.

Me and Ezra plan ta be together for a long, long time, but bein' peacekeepers is a dangerous line o' work. Anythin' could happen. An' I'm sure Chris expected to have a lifetime with Sarah. He didn't get it, and I doubt me an Ezra will either. So I make a point o' memorizin' these moments for later. Just in case.

Ezra mumbles something I can't understand and gets a bit restless. He usually does 'bout this time o' day. Don't know if it's 'cause I'm awake and he senses that, or if it's cause he's jus' dreamin' more now than he does at other times.

I pull him to me, cradling him close. He nuzzles my throat and settles right down. Gotta admit to liking that too.

Seen him come wide awake in a second, pulling a gun from under the pillow ready ta shoot first and ask questions later when he senses somethin' that don't belong. Like knowin' that him not wakin' up means I belong. That as much as I'm aware of evertyhin' being right with my world in this room, in this bed, Ezra feels the same way.

That's why I like wallowing for a bit, why I like lying here when I ought ta be up doing something productive. Can't imagine anything more worthwhile than makin' damn sure I know just how good I got it. Rest of the day can wait a little longer.