Slim Sherman drove the buckboard towards the relay station, sawing the reins instinctively as the horses passed over the not unfamiliar ground. The pace was steady although it had been a long day, and Jess Harper's horse Traveller ambled along tied behind. At Slim's bidding his fellow worker Jess sat beside him on the hard seat of the buckboard.
Slim had decided to build a small corral in his North pasture. Often, he would hold some horses there when he was gathering stock, but it was a thrown together affair. With the help of Jess, his recently hired hand, Slim felt the time was right to make some improvements. He looked ahead for the Sherman ranch with an ambitious vision. Slim had inherited his drive from his father, and his sense of place from both his hardworking father, and his equally hard working and dedicated mother.
Today Slim had laden the buckboard and driven supplies out to the proposed area, and Jess had seen to the later stage change at the Relay Station and followed along on his horse. Slim was pleased and surprised at the natural way Jess had with horses, and was watching him catch on quickly with the stages. Together they had toiled for the greater part of the day fixing fencing but Slim could see the beginnings of a fine holding corral.
Night was drawing in, the sun had dropped, and it was that special time of evening before darkness. Jess loved that time of day in particular. A coolness descended, and the still shadows gave way to an inner peace. When he was on the drift this was the time when he had found his camp, had settled his horse and gathered his firewood, and he always took the time to sit, watching and enjoying the darkening shadows. He would think about his day past, and people and places past in his life, and he would feel at peace as a twilight blanket wrapped around him. Jess rarely thought about tomorrow.
Slim was chatting. It was a great opportunity to have someone of a similar age to interact with and share some of his thoughts. Slim was excited by the work they had done today, and excited by the prospect of what they would achieve tomorrow, and the next day. Jess was practically a captive audience beside him on the seat, so he told him some of his plans. Sometimes when he broke out and told Jonesy his ideas for the ranch Slim felt Jonesy, whilst on the same page in principal, doubted his capabilities to ultimately achieve his goals. Perhaps it was that small, enigmatic smile on Jonesy's face, or Jonesy's comeback with some sage fatherly advice, that stopped Slim divulging too many of the notions spilling around in his busy mind. He knew Jonesy cared about him and the ranch because Jonesy had been with him ever since his parents died, but although he connected with Jonesy on a working day level, he still did not fully understand Jonesy. It was frustrating at times. Slim also knew that he could never talk adult topics with his little brother, Andy, as Andy was still a child. Slim sometimes wondered if Andy was overly interested in his birthright anyway.
"So, what do you think Jess? Sound good? I reckon after the barn we should….." Slim shot a sideways glance at Jess. It suddenly occurred to Slim that he had been talking for a long time, and the conversation had been more than a little one sided. Jess gave the impression he was listening, but maybe not interrupting was not necessarily an indication of listening. Slim turned and glanced at his impassive companion.
"Sounds good to me Slim" came the deep voiced reply, although not with all the enthusiasm Slim would have hoped.
Slim decided to change tack and talk about a topic which might hold more interest for his new ranch hand. Jess must be tired. On closer inspection he looked tired.
Jess was tired; and he was tired of Slims' inane chatter. Jess just wanted the quiet time. Slim's voice was echoing in his head and he wished he had elected to ride Traveller home, but he had agreed to Slim's proposal to join him on the buckboard, so he only had himself to blame. Traveller would enjoy the break, but it had been a long while since Jess had the constant company of a companion other than his horse.
"So, Traveller is a good horse. Where did you get him?"
Jess's mind drifted back.
He had met Robson Smith outside a little town called Butchers Run. He remembered wondering about the name. He thought it could be a terrible spot where a massacre occurred, perhaps Indian, perhaps from the War. But it may even just be named after someone with the family name Butcher. Who knew?
Jess had just made camp, and it was the time of day not unlike now. The shadows were closing, and the birds were having their last chorus. The cooler air was starting to settle, and Jess felt relaxed. He sat with his back to an aged, gnarled log and stretched the fibers of his body. His clothes were old and dusty, but he felt his body beginning to renew after his long ride this particular day.
Jess's quiet evening contemplation was broken immediately by the soft footfall of hooves as a horse and rider approached. A voice boomed announcing a presence. Jess's ever ready six-gun jumped into his hand, and he sprang lithely to his feet. However, it turned out that Jess had nothing to worry about. After a brief standoff Jess and the cowboy established that neither was a danger to the other, and at last they shared a rough trail coffee.
The cowboy's name was Robson Smith. He had travelled up through the border of Texas and was hoping to join one of the large cattle herds going North. He was a drifter like Jess, and had little to his name, except his rig and guns, his horse and a small bag with medicinal supplies. Jess's eyes lit up at the thought of medicinal supplies, maybe a drop of whiskey. It turned out that Robson was a rough and ready healer. He had learned his art during the war when he had been attached to a field hospital. Jess could only speculate the horrors Robson had seen. He had seen enough himself.
Robson was a powerful man. He could be described as a rugged yet handsome man. His skin was dark in color, his hair touched and curled gracefully on his neck and interestingly he wore a small gold earring in his right ear. Jess figured if they came to it Robson would beat him senseless in a fistfight, but then other men had thought this of Jess and had been proven painfully wrong. Robson laughed easily, and he was good to be around. In the course of that evening Jess decided to ride with Robson for a while, and join the cattle drive himself.
Jess and Robson rode into Butchers Run. Robson was mounted on his well- built bay, he inventively enough called "Horse". Jess had laughed, but so had Robson when he discovered Jess's grey was nicknamed "JR" because it went loco like a jack rabbit from time to time.
Butcher's Run was like a hundred small towns; a dusty main street, an apparently well attended Saloon, a Livery and a Sheriff's office. Surprisingly, this town appeared to have some working capital as it featured a grand little courthouse as well as a sprinkling of ladies and men's shopping establishments.
"Let's go to the Saloon first before we load up on a few supplies," suggested an eager Jess.
"Sure Jess, you go ahead. I'll take the horses to the Livery"
Jess settled in at the Saloon. As was his habit he chose a table right at the back. Jess was watching for Robson and was surprised when Robson leaned over and took his place beside him. Suddenly Jess realized. He pushed the cold beer he had bought Robson towards him and lowered his eyes.
"It's no big deal Jess. At least they let me in. The backdoor is better than no door."
It was wrong. Jess knew it was wrong, but he had to be aware that some people would think of Robson in that way. If he started getting worked up it could get the both of them, especially Robson, in painful trouble. They moved on to the general store and picked out some supplies. Jess did the buying and paid the money. Robson had a manner that seemingly made him invisible. The man was there but no one saw him. Jess was fuming, and he deliberately bought less than he had intended.
They rode together for some time. The further they travelled the more Jess liked being with Robson. He admired Robson. It turned out that they were different in many ways. Robson was settled and sensible, whilst Jess was reactive and impulsive. They both loved horses, and Jess was stunned at the depth of the bond Robson had with Horse. He figured that animal would do most anything for Robson. Unbeknownst to Jess Robson thought the same thing in reverse.
The area Jess and Robson rode into was sparsely populated, but they spotted a small ranch house set in some extraordinarily beautiful country. It was a quiet area and the ranch sign had "Jamieson" burnt crudely with wire. The Jamieson Double J brand was burnt after the letters. A small flowing creek meandered in the green grass below the ranch house, trees were scattered frequently, and a copse of larger cottonwoods and brush covered the hillside in view of the buildings. The ranch house stood in a good defensible position if attacked by natives or intruders. It was clear the rancher knew what he was doing. The barn and house were in a good state of repair, and some roses grew as a testament to someone's diligence and hard work. As the pair rode towards the house yard a few aimless chickens scattered and an old house cow lifted its passive big head. A man of some distinction walked onto the shady porch, a shot gun draped across his left arm but raised to the degree that it pointed at both the incoming visitors.
"No issue Mister", Robson said in a sedate smooth tone, "Just looking for a bit of work in return for food and board."
Jamieson looked him up and down. He considered himself a good judge of character and thought the two cowboys were just as they presented themselves. They were well ridden and looked like they could do with a break. Besides he had work galore at present, and only had his wife and child to help. In addition, he would be travelling over to Shillington shortly to help his oldest boy for a brief time. Not sure how he was going to juggle it all, he decided to take the plunge and ask the men to stay a while.
Jess and Robson did stay a while, and as their time at Jamieson's wore on they became friends with Will and Emile Jamieson and were increasingly aware of a smaller figure who followed them around. At first Ali was not seen at all, and Jess remembered his surprise the first time he saw her in the barn one day, peeking out from behind a sack. She was shy and remained hidden away until the Jamieson's were sure Jess and Robson were the kind of men could be trusted around a twelve-year-old girl. Ali seemed to take a particular liking to Robson and started following him everywhere. Will and Emile didn't mind, and the bond Robson formed with Ali had to be seen to be believed. The Jamison's trusted Robson (and Jess) so much that when they decided to travel over to Shillington to help Karl, their oldest boy, they left Ali at home. She had cried and said she did not want to be parted from Robson. She was a frail child but had gathered strength under Robson's guidance. So Robson's shadow stayed behind, her parents confident that she would be fed, and cared for. Will also had the feeling that the quiet boy Jess would lay down his life for his friend Robson and his little side kick.
Will thought they would be away from home maybe three weeks, give or take, and they rode out early one morning, excited to be going to see their son. The Jamieson's excitement was contagious, and Robson, Ali and Jess gave them a loud and boisterous send off.
The men settled into the routine of ranching, each doing individual tasks but for the most part working together. Robson cooked, and Ali assisted. Jess was secretly glad that Robson had a helper as he escaped the bulk of domestic chores.
On the fifth day Jess spotted the riders coming. They were riding in fast, not in a friendly way but as an aggressive group. Trouble was coming. Jess ran to Robson and yelled, Robson looked in the direction and figured the band of incoming men were about fifteen minutes away. Robson scooped Ali in his powerful arms and ran. Jess lost sight of Robson as he himself ran to the ranch house throwing open the door and grabbing rifles and ammunition from the house gun rack. He got the shotgun as well and with arms full he ran with long steps towards the side of the barn. He was sheltered here on three sides and had the riders clear in his sights. Jess knew Robson would take a similar defensive position, but he may only have his gun, gun belt ammo, and his long knife. Jess guessed there were about a dozen men, so the battle would be bloody.
The riders came in whopping and hollering. Horses careered in every direction and dust swirled up in a tornado fashion, hiding both horse and man.
From the melee a voice screamed, "Come out you Bastards. We won' hurt you!"
"Much." Jess heard a snakelike voice hiss. The raiders laughed.
Jess took aim, knowing that once his position was revealed, the heat would all come down on him. So, Jess fired fast, intent on putting as many down in the first minutes as humanly possible. When he didn't see a man, Jess shot for the middle of the dust, and was rewarded with a grunt and a scream.
It became carnage. Jess took a slight nick to his left shoulder. He heard Robson's gun firing continually. And then there was silence. The dust settled. Jess peered through the grime and what he saw made his heart plummet. Standing in the middle of the yard, amongst the twisted bodies of men and the broken body of one horse, was a man. He was holding his friend Robson by the shirt collar, hiding behind him, with his revolver pinned to Robson's side.
"Come out now!" he screamed.
Jess paused,
The man lifted his gun and brought it down, slicing across Robson's face. Two other men gathered with the first, both pointing their guns at Robson's crumpled body.
Jess dropped his rifle, and gun and stepped out. Another of the attackers ran from cover and poked his gun viciously into Jess's body. Jess gasped and dropped to his knees.
"No, bring him here. He's gotta pay."
Jess was starting to get his breath. He was still on his knees when a heavy object slammed into his head, and he felt no more pain. The darkness was instantaneous.
When Jess woke the light was blinding. His head hurt, and his gut hurt. He was aware of blood trickling through his dark, thick hair and down his neck, and he was aware that his hands were tied above his head. His wrists were also bloody and sore. As he slowly, very slowly, lifted his head his eyes came into focus and he nearly vomited with the sight in front of him.
With hands bound behind him his friend Robson was seated on Horse under a large tree. His body slumped forward, but not enough to hide the noose tied around his neck.
Jess became aware of movement at his side. A thin weasel faced man came closer and lisped in Jess's ear. His breathe smelled like something long rotten. Jess moved his head in an attempt to distance himself from the sickening stench emanating from the man.
"You're going to watch boy," he hissed. "You're gonna see it all and remember it 'til the day you die…..although that might not be too long," the man sniggered at his own joke.
" We was hopin' that nag would just get sick a standin' around and walk away. A slow hangin' is what a Cow...Boy deserves."
"RIGHT!?" he questioned Jess, spittle flying from his purple lips.
Jess couldn't answer.
" Or maybe we..No you..could make a bit a screamin' and get it over quicker. What do you think? See the others, the ones left that is, are down at the house pickin' out a few nice things and they left me tah make the decision. You killed a lot a boys but you know what, that's OK. All the more for me." And with that he held up Robson's earring and seductively rolled it between his filthy grime covered fingers.
Jess came so close to losing the contents of his stomach again.
His tormentor put the earring away in his vest and bought his hand up again. This time Robson's wicked blade twitched in the dappled sunlight. He waved the big bladed long knife in Jess's face. There was no dispute that the man meant to use it.
Strange what your mind thinks," At least it's clean," Jess mused to himself.
In a quick deft movement Jess felt his shirt sliced and pulled away from his back. The remnants of his shirt hung in tatters. With four similar quick and practiced movements Jess felt the blade skim across the flesh of his bare back. Because of the sharpness of the tool it took a moment to realize the cut and feel the sting of the flesh being sliced. They were not deep muscular cuts, but the pain hit and stung intensely. God help him, Jess tried to hold it in, but the flesh overcame the spirit and he cried in pain.
"That's it dog!" his captor jumped in excitement and giggled.
Jess lifted his head towards Robson. He expected to see his friend dangling from the hangman's rope. Horse stood steadfastly. Nothing had changed.
"Well now ain't that grand. You know what I ain't gonna kill you. I'm like that, kinda generous. I'm gonna leave you boy. Hell, that ole horse he's gonna get sick a standin' there. He might get a bit peckish or just wander off and," he paused, " who knows what night crawlers will come along in the dark. Either way, you got the best seat in the house."
"Maybe you'll get to see somethin' in the dark too. Don't you go away, or you might miss somethin' good."
The bandits maniacal grinning face showed that he was reveling in his position of sadistic power over the young injured man.
As abruptly as he had appeared at Jess's side the bandit disappeared.
Jess struggled for as long as his body would sustain it. He could make no inroads on his bound wrists. His back hurt like crazy and Jess was frantic, he had to save Robson. Time seemed to stop. Jess's total focus was on his hands and nothing else existed. He was worn out, but he looked up and still Horse stood. It got to the point that he was scared to look at the big Cottonwood. But still Horse stayed motionless. Horse stood.
The notion of time to Jess was critical, but it had also become irrelevant. The only thing in his head was getting his freedom. Suddenly Jess became aware of a presence beside him. He felt himself weaken. The bandit had returned. Jess's head fell, and his damp sweaty locks fell over his broken face.
"I tried," he blurted out to no-one in particular. It wasn't enough he tried; he failed.
"Jess I need your help. I cut him down, but I can't lift him" a soft stuttering voice urged.
It was like an a shock of lightening jerked his body. He swung his head. It was little Ali. Under other circumstances he would have laughed. She looked so funny, covered almost head to toe in dried mud. Robson must have run to the creek with her and hid her in the overhang under the creek edge. She was safe.
Ali anticipated Jess's next immediate thought, " They're gone." It was the most words at one-time Jess had heard from Robson's little shadow.
It took some time. Robson was alive and in the shade of the leafy Cottonwood. Ali led Horse down the slight slope to Jess and scrambling on Horse she managed with her little pocketknife to slowly saw through one of Jess's binds. Jess sawed through the other bloody bind and fell straight to the ground. Horse arched his neck down with his whiskers softly tickling the cowboy's exhausted face. Jess took control. Robson's heartbeat was strong. However, he had taken a brutal beating.
Jess stayed whilst Robson mended. Ali saw to almost Robson's every need and the two were closer than ever. Jess's own wounds were healing, and Robson made some salve which helped.
The Jamieson's returned. They had heard about the raiders and were overwhelmingly relieved to find Ali not only alive but thriving. The damage to their ranch was minimal with the house looted but still standing. Some livestock was scattered, and they found Jess's horse, JR, shot about three miles down the trail leaving their property. The best anyone could figure was that JR had acted up ornery and he paid the consequence. JR had been a good faithful horse and Jess was fond of him. He felt sad and angry that the raiders had been the cause of JR's demise. Jess knew he had a personal vendetta with one of the bandits at least.
Jess had buried the men killed in the raid in a spot out of the sight of the house and collected any personal effects which he passed on to Will to sort out. He was leaving the Jamieson's ranch to track the gang. Jess knew with a heavy heart that Robson was staying. Robson had found a home, and the Jamieson's had adopted him as one of their own. Not only would Robson be a great help at the ranch, but Ali would hardly let him from her side. Robson had saved Ali, and in turn she had saved him.
Jess was saddling the horse Jamieson had very generously given him. Truth be told that whilst Will was ever grateful for Jess in his part of defending the ranch and saving Ali, he was scared of the hard, deeply focused man he saw before him. He was aware too that most of the bodies of the raiders had fallen to Jess's hand, and it startled him to think just how good Jess was with his gun.
As Jess saddled Robson came and stood beside him. They had never spoken of the day; it was enough they lived it.
"I want you to have Horse."
"No," was the blunt reply.
" Jess you and I have a special bond. Horse is the closest thing to me that I have. I have the Jamieson's and Ali now. Horse saved my life, and I want him to look after you. He's a travelling horse and you, my friend, are a traveler. Please with the worth of my friendship please take him." He repeated a softer gentle, " Please."
Jess felt his soul soar at such raw emotion. He knew the worth of Robson's gesture, and he also knew it would belittle the man and their bond if he were to say No.
So it was that Jess left the Jamieson's ranch mounted on the sturdy bay he renamed Traveller. It reminded him of his Confederacy roots and another courageous animal; and more importantly it reminded him of his friend Robson Smith.
After all who could call a horse, "Horse."
" I got him down South Slim. I told you he had a Texas brand remember?"
Slim figured he was getting no more from his recalcitrant offsider, and they were coming into the Relay Station anyway. Slim resumed his cheerful chatter.
As they came down the hill towards the sturdy little ranch house, Slim was pleased to see a waft of smoke rise and hang low over the house and barn. It meant Jonesy was cooking, and the house would be cozy warm awaiting the two tired men. Slim noticed a saddled horse tied to the hitching rail and wondered who would be visiting this time of day. Reining in at the barn Slim suggested Jess take care of the horses whilst he slipped in briefly to check the visitor. Jess was only too happy to be left to the quiet job of unhitching, caring and settling the horses. He would give Traveller a special rub down.
Jess's tranquil moment was shattered. He no sooner had entered the barn than Slim hollered from the porch. Slim's call was alarmingly urgent.
"Jess, Jess, come here quick."
Slim obviously needed Jess immediately, but he didn't leave the porch, he just leaned his long lanky frame across the horizontal as if the action would carry his voice further and reach Jess sooner.
Jess dropped Traveller's reins. He knew from experience that Traveller would not stray from the spot, and Jess spun on his heels and ran towards Slim. In the same motion his gun leapt into his hand. As Jess ran across the open area to the house Slim turned and slipped inside again. Jess reached the door and sped inside ready for anything that presented itself, but he was not as ready as he thought.
Jones and Andy were seated at the table with astonished looks on their faces. Slim had advanced only a small way inside the door and was blocking Jess from seeing the third man at the table.
"What the...Slim?" Jess queried stopping and peering around Slim. He still had his gun in hand, but it dropped to his side.
Sitting with Jonesy and Andy was Jack McCabe. Jack McCabe, Jess's old friend. The man who had tried to embroil him in a shakedown at Triple Hills. The man who had tried to addict him to opiate, the man he counted as responsible for him nearly killing Slim. Before Jess could speak Slim raised his own voice. He had seen the toll McCabe's game had taken on Jess. He had seen Jess as a broken man struggling to fight the addiction and battling for his self-esteem.
"Get out of here you vermin. Get out before I kill you myself." Slim stood in front of Jess in the open doorway as if protecting the smaller man.
" I said get off my ranch and never, never, never come back."
Jack rose. He walked towards the two men, but it was Slim to whom he spoke.
"Sure, I'll go. I understand." He moved around Slim as Slim furiously glared into Jack's eyes. Jess still had not moved but his gun still hung loosely in his hand at his side. His left hand was balled into tight fist.
Jack looked at Jess. "I'm staying at the Laramie Hotel. Come and see me." Before Jess could say a word, Jack eased past him and strode over to his horse. As he mounted and galloped away Slim and Jess turned and watched his back. Neither moved nor said a word until Jack McCabe was out of sight.
"What the ..?" Jonesy asked Slim. Both Andy and Jonesy were a little shell shocked. Slim spun to face them both. "We need a whiskey Jonesy, and don't tell me it's medicinal cause that's exactly what it is." Slim wheeled again and spoke to Jess, " Have drink Jess, then we better see to those horses."
"Thanks Slim but I'll go and take care of the horses. You can tell Andy and Jonesy if you want, they probably need to know some more of it." Slim knew Jess would want him to edit the story, so that was what he would do. Andy was a perceptive boy and he sensed there was more to the story than Slim was telling. Andy asked awkward questions. He knew his brother well enough that there had to be more to get him so worked up. In the end Slim told Andy to go to bed. Slim still thought of Andy as a little boy. Jonesy had already guessed there was more to the censored story Slim told him about Triple Hills, but he kept his mouth shut. These things had ways of eventually coming to light. It was odd as an independent observer to the incident could have seen Andy and Jonesy as Youth and Age demonstrating the opposing ends of the same spectrum.
Jess made it into the barn, then he stopped and his whole body trembled. He realized he was still carrying his gun, and he jammed it into its holster. What a serve from his past. He knew Slim would want to talk about it of course, but he only knew there was one thing he must do. Jess had to go to Laramie in the morning to get to the bottom of it. Silently he hoped he would not kill Jack McCabe.
"No Jess, don't go. I won't allow it." Slim acknowledged that he was saying the wrong thing, and he risked inflaming the fiery Texan. What more could he say. Slim believed he was responsible for the ranch, and that included all of the ranch. Slim's sense of responsibility was so great that his umbrella covered every rock, tree and person on his ranch. Slim received an unexpected response from Jess. Jess's lips curved into a sad but genuine smile.
"Slim I'm a grown man. I aint Andy and I aint Jonesy, and ...I know, don't correct the way I speak... I gotta go Slim. I have to find out why he came. Don't you see?"
Slim was in two minds. Jess made sense and he did understand, but Slim was worried for Jess as well. Although Jess was more than capable of looking after himself having been alone a long time and had a well-deserved reputation as a fast gun, Slim knew life was a fragile thing which, whilst not easily given up, was easily taken under certain circumstances.
"Then I'm coming with you."
How could Jess explain that Slim would only get in the way. He didn't want to have to look after Slim and he may have to fly close to the outlaw ways, as he had in the past with Jack McCabe.
"No Slim, not this time. Jack and I rode together for a spell. I gotta be the one to find out what it is all about and make any decisions. But I promise you this. After I speak with him, I will ride back here and tell you what is happening. You have my word."
With that Slim let Jess ride out. If Jess was not back by tonight or tomorrow around noon he would ride into Laramie himself, and heaven help Jack McCabe.
Jess Harper rode in to Laramie. The town looked its usual self. He had only visited Laramie few times since he had come to the Sherman ranch and Relay Station. He knew the Saloon and General Mercantile. The people of Laramie were wary of him and he saw a couple obviously talking about him as he rode past. They had pointed and turned towards the shop front as he rode slowly past. He didn't care.
Dismounting at the Hotel Jess received a frosty reception at the Lobby, but he did ascertain that Jack McCabe was staying at the Hotel but had gone out only minutes ago. Jess thought he would try the Saloon, but he finally tracked Jack to the small cafe.
The bell tinkled as Jess entered. Jack turned with a smug smile on his face.
"I knew you'd come Jess."
Jess felt that Jack was far too sure of himself for his own good, and it crossed his mind to shoot Jack here right now. One bullet right between the eyes.
The scene played through in his head, but it wasn't going to happen. Jess scowled and looked at Jack from head to toe.
"Well..." Jess all but growled at his former friend. His deep husky voice reflected his dark, mean thoughts.
Jess rode back to the ranch as he had promised. Slim was on edge waiting for him. Slim was known as a patient man but he has pacing waiting for news; news he could tell would be bad. He was surprised that Jess even came back. He had already been planning his ride out and was planning in his head the contingency plan for the stage changes and ranch work. Jonesy watched Slim and couldn't help but wonder if Jess Harper was worth this angst in the eldest of his charges. Certainly, the ranch was losing that routine feel it used to have, and his boys were getting more excitement than Jonesy felt was good for their constitution. Why even Slim had started to share this strange brotherhood thing Andy seemed to have developed for the drifter Jess Harper. Could be it was rubbing off on Jonesy?
Although he was more than a little curious, Jonesy sensed that Slim and Jess's conversation was one to which he was not privy, so he told Slim he was going out to fix that pesky split in the corral fencing.
Jess made Slim wait. He got some coffee that had been resting on the side of the stove since the last changeover and sat at the table. Slim was almost beside himself and had stomped in every step of Jess's as he had moved into the kitchen and out again. He loomed over Jess as Jess flopped mentally exhausted into the chair.
Jack McCabe was trying to go straight but every time he tried a new job Peter Graham would turn up. Slim remembered Graham from Triple Hills as the one who did McCabe's bidding. Jess had told him how Graham had arranged for him to be hurt so McCabe could get Jess started on the opiate water, and later Graham said he wished he had killed Jess. Graham had also been involved in some sleazy setup with a saloon girl who went permanently missing. McCabe going straight all seemed a little unlikely to Slim. McCabe had not shot Graham because he was trying to go straight. Jess did know from his experience with Jack that murdering was not his style. In fact, Jack usually got some hired hand to do any gun work but that was more likely intimidation rather than outright murder. Jess should know because that was what McCabe had wanted from him all along at Triple Hills.
Now McCabe had a lucrative delivery of cattle to make to the Fort. Usually the army bought smaller lots of cattle more frequently but, in this case, they were buying the larger lot and agisting them at a bargain price close by, so they would not be caught again if prices rose dramatically, as they had done in the past. The economics of the deal appealed to the business man in Slim. However, McCabe's drive had been bedeviled by accidents, and a few hands had quit. McCabe suspected Graham was behind the trouble. The drive had managed to get this far and was in a holding position outside town. McCabe needed someone he could trust to join him and, being in the proximity to Laramie, he had thought of his old sparring partner Jess Harper.
The story had holes a mile wide as far as Slim was concerned, but Jess had ridden with McCabe and believed he knew him well enough that he could see no reason for him asking for help if it wasn't needed. A motive as pure and simple as revenge touched his mind, albeit briefly.
Slim could feel his stomach churn, "Don't do it Jess."
Jess had that determined look that brokered no argument, and yet, a softness appeared. Jess did not want to fight with Slim again. "I'm doing it Slim."
The battle began. Slim tried to use words to convince Jess to not get involved, and yet he could tell from the start it was a losing battle. Finally, Jess closed down completely. Slim changed tack, " OK, then I'm coming."
Jess had always taken responsibility for himself wholly and solely. If he had to fight McCabe, and watch out for Slim, Jess could not take the responsibility for Slim getting hurt, or worse still, Slim's death. Jess clicked into his gunfighter mode. "No Slim, you ain't wanted, or needed for that matter! What's a good little farm boy like you know about anything but pushing a few cows. Better you stay here at your rundown, pathetic hideout from the big old scary world, the backwoods that you prefer to call a ranch. You are the captain of Goodness after all. " Jess bled inside as more vicious, hateful words spewed forth. Jess stormed from the house, slamming the door, and leaving an absolutely stunned Slim behind him. The words dug deep and were hurtful and raw, but Slim Sherman was made of sterner stuff. The big man strode out after his quarry. Slim caught up with Jess as he saddled Traveller, and he spun the younger man around. For one brief instance Slim thought he was a dead man. He looked into Jess's cobalt blue eyes, and he saw no blue; the irises were dilated and were as black as a moonless night. Jess bought his fist around to strike Slim, but Slim counter blocked and in the same moment pushed the lighter man backwards. Jess stumbled back a fraction, and was geared to come forward with all his might.
"Hold it Harper, you don't get away that easy. What you said, I'll catch up with you for that later. For now, you need to remember who pulled you out of that hole at Triple Hills, who's got your back, and who survived that bloody war just like you. I may not rush into things, and I may use my brain, but I'm not a child either, and I don't need looking after. Consider for a minute that I could help you."
Jess stopped. Slim's words filtered through. He had been so bullheaded about not being Slim's responsibility earlier, and now Slim was telling him the same thing. Slim was a grown man, a good man to have in your corner, and he was not Jess's responsibility; he was on the same side.
The steel drained from Jess. "Slim, I... he paused. The blue had returned to his eyes, and he looked down, then squarely into Slim's eyes. "It's OK Jess, now let's go get ready for whatever Jack McCabe and Peter Graham have got plotted."
Jack McCabe was surprised when Jess turned up with the other man. McCabe studied Slim first at a distance, and then closer. He saw an accomplished rider, a tall man with a strong physique. Up close he observed that the strength appeared to run through the backbone of his character as well. He could tell after engaging him in conversation that Slim Sherman was an intelligent man and did not make decisions lightly. McCabe also watched the interaction between Jess and Sherman. The two men had a natural ease around one another and seemed comfortable in each other's company. Jack was a mite jealous. He and Jess once enjoyed a similar friendship, but Jack understood that he had always had to be the top dog, and he had enjoyed grooming the younger Harper. With his brains and Harper's gun they could have gone places alright.
They drove the cattle onward and had two days of relative quiet. Jess and Slim rode to a prearranged rendezvous each night on the northern side of the herd to discuss their current thoughts. They did not talk about anything of importance in camp. They were both aware that Jack was watching them, and others could be listening. Both men took care of their own canteens, horses, and ate from the communal cookpot. Unbeknownst to Jack, they waited each night and only ate after he himself had eaten. Even as they worked both Slim and Jess scanned the ridges and tree lines close by. In camp Slim distanced himself from Jess because he realized Graham had not seen him previously. If Graham was watching he would recognize Jess and be very wary of him, but he had no reason to suspect Slim.
It happened on the fourth evening. The weather was closing in, and the cattle a were restless. The mood amongst the cowboys was subdued and they were watchful of any disturbance that would unsettle the herd.
Slim saw him first. He was on his horse and he moved quietly on the northeastern outskirts of the cattle. Any later in the day he would have been almost invisible but Slim had seen the barest of movement and as he stared he caught the movement again. Nudging Alamo slowly forward Slim spotted Jess a small distance ahead on his side of the herd. They had tried to work this way in case of this very contingency. They had agreed to a prearranged signal and Slim took off his broad hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. He used his right hand for the action and this signaled the direction of the danger. It was a simple motion, but it caught Jess's attention. Jess pulled his black well-loved hat lower over his face in an acknowledgment that he saw Slim's message. The hat over his eyes allowed Jess to scan from below the broad brim and in a few minutes, he saw the same movement that Slim had detected. Slowly the two worked away from each other and then turned their heads and nodded. Jess heeled Traveller and the big bay responded. He galloped up the slope moving in from the left. Simultaneously Slim sent Alamo careering up the slope to enter the trees from the right. A shot was fired, and it pinged the ground a distance from Jess who was riding low and fast. Before the perpetrator had time to take it all in and get a line on either rider, Jess and Slim were upon him, guns drawn and pointed directly at their foe, Peter Graham.
The gunfire had stirred the cattle. The men were rounding them, talking, calming the herd until it seemed sure that they were settled again. Jess and Slim stared at Graham. Graham ignored Slim and glared directly at Jess. He said nothing, but he smiled. It was an evil, nasty sneer. "Too late," he drawled.
An explosion rocked the valley. It came from behind the cattle, towards the camp area. As Jess and Slim instinctively swung their heads towards the noise Graham reached into his saddlebag. Jess became aware of the movement. "It's dynamite Slim!" and he fired a shot. It was the quickest reaction Slim had ever witnessed in his life. Peter Graham collapsed in his saddle, a small bead directly over his heart, his hand still reaching for the saddlebag. Slim urged his big horse forward and lifted the flap of the bag. Sure enough there were four sticks of dynamite lying loose inside. Slim blanched at what might have been had Jess not been so very fast.
With the extraordinary blast the herd on mass had risen and ran. The cowboys who only moments earlier had calmed them were racing after them, rounding, waving, whistling. The men had been in the right place and the stampede of hoofs and horns was quickly brought under control.
Jess and Slim swung their horses towards the camp and galloped towards the view of destruction they could see as they raced closer. The chuck wagon was blown to smithereens, and the supplementary wagon was upturned. Fortunately the hitching horses had been taken over near the remuda earlier and for the most part the horses were scared witless but appeared O.K. The majority of the animals had been ridden away when the drovers jumped up to counter any trouble settling the herd on Graham's first gunshot. The two men surveyed the area looking for casualties. Then they spotted the bodies.
Issac Grey, the cook, and Timmy Romen, the biscuit boy, both lay broken and mangled. They had been the closest to the dynamite. One of the cowboys, John French was dead with not a mark on his body.
Jack McCabe galloped in, "What in Hades..."
Jack looked from Jess to Slim, "What happened? " he paused taking a deep breath, "If it hadn't been for that gunshot and the boys having to ride out and settle the herd..." Jack paled.
Jess told Jack about Peter Graham hiding out in the trees. Graham's plan must have been to dynamite the camp, killing as many of the workmen and Jack and Jess as well. Maybe he planned to take over the herd, maybe he planned to rob the herd or maybe he was just malevolent with an urge to kill both man and beast.
Slim walked over. It was always a sober moment when lives were taken. "You know he must have had help. He was with us up in the hills when the bang went off. You would know Graham if he showed in camp." McCabe had not thought that far, but now he did. McCabe made his way to the remnants of the wagon and searched. He threw broken pieces out of the way until he frantically turned to Slim, "the cash- tin, it's not here! The payroll is gone."
"We will have to wait for morning for sign, if there is any, it's too dark now. If we thrash around now we might lose any hope at all on picking up tracks," Jess volunteered as McCabe started to look wild eyed. "With what went down out there every horse and cow will have left a mark."
" Yeah, but you know what? Let's see who doesn't come back to camp tonight." Slim said softly. Jess had been thinking the same thing.
The camp was set right as much as possible. Jess went and collected Peter Graham's horse and body, and in the morning they laid him to rest at the same time as Issac, Timmy and John French. Graham's grave was further over, and not quite as deep as the others. Slim said a few words over the drovers, reserving some kind ones for the young biscuit boy. Slim even said words over Graham, and when McCabe questioned him about it Slim replied that even Graham was someone's son. Jess heard the interchange and he thought how he had recently called Slim a little farm boy and he dropped his head with shame.
Deano Chapman had not ridden in the night before. He was a nondescript man around forty who had kept to himself. He had enjoyed cards, but even then, when around the boisterous card playing group he was reasonably quiet. His only noticeable trait was his constant sipping from a hipflask. Yet, he never appeared drunk and he worked soundly.
Jess had scouted the trail further out from the camp and the stampede. It was time consuming and at first it looked impossible, but he searched logically in the direction of the next small town. Eventually he picked up a fresh track of a horse moving fast. Jess was torn; should he go back and get Slim and possibly McCabe. Jess made his decision. Slim had come this far, so Jess reined Traveller around and returned to collect Slim.
As luck would have it they found Deano Chapman in their first port of call, the Saloon. McCabe had ridden with them and he spotted him in the back corner engaged in a hand of poker. Deano had a wad of notes in front of him, and a whiskey bottle beside him. It appeared as if once in his life he was winning. It was a brief period of joy. Deano spotted the three men moving towards him and he jumped to his feet. He tried to run but fell against the bar. McCabe grabbed him and slugged him with his fists. It was the first time Jess had seen Jack McCabe do his own dirty work. Deano had fallen, but each time McCabe hauled him to his feet, and punched him again. Slim clapped a hand on McCabe's shoulder, "He's had enough, leave some for the Sheriff."
The money was there. The little cash-tin had been at Chapman's feet. Very little had been spent, in fact with the card hand there may have been some extra. Jess, Slim and McCabe sunk into a Saloon chair each, and Jack picked up Deano's whiskey bottle. The Sheriff came through the doors and moved warily over to them, and McCabe quickly explained his position as trail boss, and the story of the theft and destruction. Deano was marched out of the Saloon.
"So, Jess, are you coming into the Fort with me? I have a great plan with this agistment caper." Jack McCabe flashed his most winning smile. He couldn't help it, despite Jack's dubious treatment in his past, Jess liked Jack and he felt himself grinning back.
Jess then wondered as to why Jack had not asked Slim along as well, and it hit Jess like a lightning bolt. Jack could not control Slim. Slim was stubborn but he was rock solid in his beliefs and his moral codes. He was as strong a man as Jess had met.
"Naw, Jack, I got places to go and people to see." Slim glanced quickly at Jess's face, masking the deep disappointment he felt.
Jack sighed. He stood and shook each man's hand in turn. "Til next time then," and Jack walked out of the saloon like a man with not a care in the world, the little cash-tin tucked under one arm.
"Do you think he'll take it back and pay the drovers", asked Slim, not really expecting an answer.
A silence fell over the table. It was worse than a funeral. The heavy silence dragged, and time stood still.
"I want you to come back with me," Slim blurted, and immediately felt and looked embarrassed.
"Why Slim?" Jess could see no reason why Slim would want him at his home. The shameful words he had spat at Slim back at the ranch echoed in his mind. He was difficult, he was a loner, and he was a fast gun who carried around a past that seemed to constantly take a bite at those around him as well as himself. In his own mind he was a loser.
"You are my friend. I would miss you if you weren't there, and... and..., who else will sit beside me on the buckboard and listen to my plans for my Wyoming Ranch.
Jess laughed a deep throaty laugh; Slim grinned a wide toothed smile.
They were so different in nature so alike in other ways. It would work out.
END