Jess Harper punched hard, and he punched fast. It was in his nature. He was quick and once in motion he just kept going. Anyone that thought this man was an easy mark was mistaken.
The Sheriff watched. He had no need to step in at this stage. Let them beat each other senseless, it would make his job easier. Anyway, there was no point in him getting hurt in the melee.
Bodies flew, and furniture broke under the force of falling bodies. He knew the men that worked for EJ Connolly, and he knew the ramrod was an ignorant man with all the people skills of a Longhorn in heat. What the group had done to incense the lone cowboy he did not know, but was mildly curious. He had seen Jess Harper only once before, but he seemed like a normal fun loving guy. If anything he was a little on the quiet side.
EJ's boys had taken a beating for the most part, but the numbers were starting to tell. Harper was tiring. The ramrod was out for the count, but a couple of boys had grabbed Harper and a third had punched him once to the side of the face, and a hard full fisted punch to the stomach. Harper would have went down but for the arms holding him. They punched him to the head again. In a show of mercy the boys let him drop to the sawdust floor and made no attempt to inflict any further damage.
Now was the time to step in, which he did.
"O.K. Wes, you and Adam gather up your boys and head out. I reckon you've had enough fun for one short 10 minutes" The two specified men looked only too happy to be given their official marching orders, and hastily collected their hats, jamming them on their disheveled heads. They carefully stepped over furniture and grabbed their foreman, one on each side, and reefed him out the swinging doors of the Ranchers Saloon. A small rabble of partially broken men scrambled after them with varying degrees of success.
At last all that was left was the Barman sadly scanning his room, which only half an hour ago had been the picture of a peaceable drinkery. A couple of older gents in the corner had somehow avoided the brawl with drinks intact, and looked as if nothing had happened. The rest of the bar was deserted, except for the Sheriff Abe Patterson, and the crumpled, out of it, Jess Harper on the floor at his feet.
Alphonse, the big rawboned Deputy collected Harper at Abe's behest and carried him like a small child to the cells. Alphonse was handy like that. He was remarkably gentle for the oversized man he had grown into. His Dad had been a giant Swedish immigrant, but his mother had been a petite, pretty woman. Both his parents had passed on but he still missed them, and tried to live to their expectations for him. He gently placed the injured man on the cot, and put a blanket over him, as if tucking in a sleeping child. Harper had not murmured or moved during the proceedings. His arms hung limply at his side, and his eyes were shut in quiet repose.
Abe thought Harper would be O.K once he woke, but perhaps it may be circumspect if he summoned Doctor Morris. He hoped the doc was sober, but even if not he was still capable of performing his duties as proved by past experience. It was a rough and deadly place his town.
The doctor agreed with Abe's prognosis, but still Abe kept a watch on Harper during the night. He slept in his office, and rose a few times during the night to check on the sleeping man. Once Harper had become animated in his sleep, and it appeared he may be still fighting the good fight in the Saloon. Another time he whimpered like a child, and moaned and tried to turn away. No-one could guess what demons were running in a man's sleeping conscience.
Finally as dawn began to drift across the rough streets, and a few languid rooster calls echoed in the distance, Abe saw the eyes of his cell occupant begin to struggle open. In conjunction the cowboy's body started to twitch and struggle for movement as well. He was disorientated. Abe walked over, and told him succinctly what had happened to him; that being he was now enjoying the privilege of his company, Abe Patterson, Sheriff of Newkeep, and his accommodations were provided until he himself arrived at some determination of what to do with the prisoner. Harper took this well, or perhaps he was just sicker than first appeared. Perhaps, speculated Abe, he knew this routine all too well. After all Abe had only seen him the once before.
Jess mounted his horse about midday. The sun shone unrelentingly into every corner, except that seemingly cool sawdusted Saloon. He had lost his spring, and he felt heavy and light at the same time. Alphonse had actually brought his horse, Traveler, down from the Livery, saddled and ready to go. Abe watched. He was a man of few words. He wanted to watch this man leave. He was not fearful for his town. He controlled that exclusively. He kinda liked Jess Harper. That made two times he'd seen him now, and he felt a strange liking for the way he carried himself. He reminded him of himself. He turned his back and walked towards that cool Saloon.
Traveler carried Jess down the road and the afternoon wore on. The horse knew its rider and understood the lack of direction coming to his back. He would do his part until instructed otherwise. Meanwhile Jess reflected on his own direction. Here he was again leaving town under circumstances, although not immaterial, did not matter a whole lot. He would need to find work shortly but in reality it was not a pressing concern. Jess knew he had a lot more than some men. He had his ever faithful companion Traveler whose worth far exceeded his own. He owned his saddle and rig, his clothes and his boots. He had the tools of a trade, his rifle and gun. Yes, that gun. He owed no man.
His mind drifted. He had stopped in Laramie a short time back and stayed longer than in most places. About two months, and half a day longer, than Abe Patterson's Newkeep! He was drawn by friendship offered, and ultimately rejected by the same friendship withdrawn. He pondered the past few months carefully. There was no way to change the past, but lessons to be learnt. Not that Jess was good at learning lessons, in fact quite the opposite. He felt a pang at the loss of the seeming companionship of the men at the Relay Station, but wondered how deep it really could have run. He thought they were friends. He had been stupid. Was he so dumb that he read friendship from mere civility and a duty to repay him for help he had given?
He noticed storm clouds drawing in. The wind was starting to stir the cooling air. Jess had not survived all this time as a child of the Big Open by not being vigilant to the changes in nature around him. Traveler lifted his head in an acknowledgment that his rider was back with him. Jess searched for some shelter, and found it in the form of a rock outcrop which would be good for both himself and Traveler. He had no sooner attended to Traveler, and gathered the makings for his camp, when the wind blew hard, and the heavens opened with pounding rain. His bruises from last night forgotten he settled in for the night and with the warm glow of the fire sleep came easily.
At the Laramie Relay station the same wind twisted and turned around the robust house and its sprinkling of outdoor buildings. The wind groaned, and the storm eventually let forth with volleys of hard rain. It was not soothing for the occupants. Slim, the owner of the Relay Station, lay in his cot but worried about his stock. If only Jess had chosen to stay. They would ride out in the morning to check the damage. He lay in bed but sleep evaded him as he counted dead cattle and downed fence posts. Jonesy had pretended to go to bed early but it was a ruse. He lay atop his cot. He hadn't slept well for weeks, not since that ragged ass'd drifter had elected to leave them in the lurch. He knew Jess Harper was everything he thought him to be. Meanwhile Andy, the youngest of the lot, curled into his blankets but sleep eluded him as he thought that maybe Jess was alone somewhere in the storm with no comfort like a roof over his head. He had been his friend hadn't he?
Jess awoke to a new day, and moved on. It was what he did. He didn't stay. He didn't make friends. He just moved along, drifting from one place to the next. What did he seek? He didn't know, because he had never found it. He knew a bit about what he didn't want. He did not want to be talked down to, he wanted a meal in his belly; he wanted to be useful. He didn't want to be made do something or be with someone who tied him to a spot. He didn't care if he was judged for what he was because that was the problem for the one judging not him. Jess appeared overtly not unhappy with his lot and he continued to move along, not looking for anything but hoping he might find something. There were a few times he thought it may be the right place, the right person, but it was not, so he moved on. The Laramie Relay Station had briefly held a promising glimmer of something for him but he was wrong, and for some reason that had hurt. The promise had not been a thing he could touch, it had floated enticingly and momentarily and then it was gone. The cavernous Big Open took him again.
At the Laramie Relay Station Slim Sherman made a momentous decision. He never really knew why he made the decision. Steadfast, reliable Slim was going to act (rashly) on a drive, which unbeknownst to him, was almost a survival instinct. Because he was an imminently sensible man he would make sure his ranch was in safe hands before he acted, he would make sure Andy was well taken care, and, well, Jonesy was old enough that he would look after himself. Slim decided in a blinding almost apocalyptic moment that he would find Jess Harper. He wanted to find him, and he needed to find him. He must find him. Slim's countenance went from thoughtful to a broad shit eating grin. He was looking forward to the adventure!
Slim departed the Relay Station a few days after he shared his intended plan with his brother, Andy, and his friend and caretaker, Jonesy. He was not sure what their responses would be but was surprised by both.
Andy was totally on board, the whole idea was a grand adventure to him as well, but the goal of finding Jess was the ultimate. He had bonded with Jess the moment he met the drifter and he missed him achingly. Jess had imprinted himself on the lonely boy as no other person ever had done. To Andy Jess was a friend who was a fellow child, a man and a hero rolled into one. Andy could not contain his excitement at the prospect of Slim locating Jess, and he did not think further than that. Now, Jonesy on the other hand… Slim was taken aback .The normally affable older gentleman Jonesy was cool about Slim's plans to say the least. Jonesy became quite loud and outspoken, saying it was the most stupid thing Slim had ever come up with, and that he would rue the day he even met that no-good, no account, gunslick Jess Harper. Jonesy went on with a vile tirade about Jess that ended only with Slim walking away. Slim could not work it out. Jonesy' open raw hostility towards Jess puzzled Slim deeply, but there was no broaching the subject with the agitated man.
Slim, tall and straight in the saddle, rode his horse out past his pastures onto the familiar Laramie road. He travelled on until the road became less familiar. He did not know where he was heading or why Jess had even left. He figured however, that where Jess had been there would be some trail in the human sense of the word. He doubted that boy could stay unnoticed for too long. He also knew or guessed that Jess would not want to travel where he had already been. He remembered a conversation about "no going back." He would sort out the reason for the Jess leaving part later, because the more he reflected on it, the more it needed sorting.
Slim remembered the afternoon Jess had told him he was not staying at the Sherman ranch a minute more. Slim had been checking fences. Jess had the afternoon off. It was the first time Jess had officially had some time off and he had been at the ranch nearly two months. Slim knew Jess had the soul of a gypsy, and he knew that he could not hold him too tight. He needed some time for himself alone. Where he went and what happened that fateful day Slim did not know.
Jess was tying down his meagre possessions onto Traveler when Slim rode in.
"You going somewhere?"
"Yeah," came the terse reply.
Jess swung onto Traveler's back, and galloped past Slim, not turning his head, not looking at Slim.
Slim was astounded. He marched in to find Jonesy
"What was that all about?"
"The bad penny is leaving us." And that was all he could ever get from Jonesy.
He expected Jess to return. He never did. Andy was upset but what could he tell him. He knew nothing.
Jess threw in on a game of poker at the Saloon. He was a loner but enjoyed the company of these men around him when it was good natured payday poker. He knew he could hopefully pick up a little paydirt. He was a practiced player, and possibly not as drunk as some of these cowboys. He enjoyed cutting loose sometimes but was not a drunk. The liveryman had told him that there may be some work around these parts if he could handle horses. The army was looking for mounts, and the local spreads would be looking to make a little extra from the wild mustangs that ran through these hills. It was a hard way to make money but he preferred to not use his gun at present. He just wanted to keep his head down for a while.
He suddenly became aware he was being watched. It was an uncanny feeling, and he cursed himself for letting himself be caught up in the laughter and companionship of the cowboys. He had learnt at an early age to be watchful and to mistrust good times.
It had been months since he saw him, and he was covered in a soft coating of grey trail dust. Still he recognized him immediately and his reaction was lightning fast.
"Jack McCabe, you pirate!" he shouted pushing his chair back, jumping to his feet and moving towards the man. In response the other man moved quickly to greet Jess, and pulled him towards him into a grasp of forearms and a slap on the back. Jack McCabe was a tall, powerful man and for a minute Jess almost disappeared in his bearlike embrace. The onlookers relaxed, and turned their attentions back to their game.
"I thought you were dead!" Jess said, looking his old partner up and down, still grasping his foreman as if letting go would spoil the illusion.
"There were times I thought I was Jess, and what of you? What games have you been up to? I reckon last time I saw you a hanging noose was in your future."
"Yeah, well last time I saw you, the noose was closer to your neck than mine."
Jess and Jack set up at the back of the Saloon catching up on days long past. Jess let his guard down, and Jack enjoyed the company of his laughing long lost friend. They had ridden together on both sides of the law, but when they had last parted each was on a slippery slope towards real jail time. Jack knew that Jess's reputation as gunfighter would bring him undone, and Jess knew Jack's love of excitement would be his downfall. Together, they had been more than formidable. Both forgot how their partnership had soured, and why they went their separate ways. All they remembered now was they relished each other's company and the whiskey washed down each memory.
Jess and Jack were so drunk they could barely stand. Each leg wanted to go in a different direction, so when they did stand they needed each other's legs to move forward, or sideways if they were lucky. So as a pair they were mobile until they could remember neither walking nor falling down. They felt no pain.
When Jess woke, he wished he had not. He felt sick, and he knew his stomach was rebelling. He was lying in a room face up on a bunkbed and he was reasonably comfortable. Someone had taken care of him. At least he wasn't in a jail. Instinct told him to check for his gun, and he did so, only to find it missing. He looked around and saw his gunbelt complete with gun draped over the pommel of his saddle near his feet. He could see other blanketed lumps of men asleep and a couple milling around in the early light. A few morning coughs and groans caught the air. The room smelt musty.
"Good morning Jess", an amazingly alert Jack McCabe gazed down on him. "Like some bacon for breakfast?" The very thought of it started to make Jess ill, but he rallied with a "No thanks, just coffee."
"Always the same ole Jess, sure do love your coffee heart starter. When you're feeling up to it I'll introduce you to the men."
Jess was intrigued and a little alarmed. None of this had come up in conversation last night with Jack.
It turned out that Jack was the foreman of the Triple Hills ranch. Triple Hills sat in a picturesque valley surrounded on the North by a series of undulating hills, the three largest of which made up the name. He had only recently taken on the job, travelling down from Clinton looking for work and arriving just as the existing foreman was exiting in a pine-box. The owner of the ranch, Phil Essex, was so impressed with Jack that he took him on probation, and he rapidly advanced to his current position. Essex was such a hard and difficult man that his other crew did not want the foreman position, even though it paid well enough. Jack stood up to Essex and soon was handling his business. There was a whisper that Essex was not an entirely well man.
After Jack explained his position to Jess he asked Jess if he wanted to work with him at Triple Hills. Jess was interested, and he would be employed initially to break horses. Triple Hills was going down the mustanging route to supplement their income from their very productive cattle business. After considering the offer Jess decided that it was sound. Working with Jack was no issue, and he had been thinking about this work. Maybe he wouldn't need his gun here.
Meanwhile, Jack had his own reason for wanting Jess. Jess didn't realize that Jack saw him ride into town on Traveler the previous day and had picked his moment in the Saloon. His session with Jess in the Saloon had been little more than a gentle shanghaiing. He had enjoyed the smoke and mirrors. Jack wanted Jess hopefully as a willing participant in his scheme, and his plans definitely included his old partner's skill with a gun. He could always manipulate the younger, more vulnerable Jess. When he saw that Jess was still on the drift he guessed nothing had changed.
Slim was having a little trouble trailing Jess. Once he found the first town where his quarry had been noticed it became easier. It would appear though that Jess was being low key. Maybe he had always been like that but Slim doubted it. He had been told of only a couple of Jess's encounters before he came to Laramie and it struck Slim that Jess would have been easy to follow at that time. The Sheriff of Laramie, Mort Corey, had put out some feelers when Jess had first started working for Slim, not at Slim's request but out of concern. He had ascertained that Jess was not wanted but had hinted that this may not have always been the case. Mort had warned Slim to take care as he thought Jess could make, and attract, trouble. The law community whilst widespread was close-knit and had a free exchange of information. The excesses of distance within the West made it possible for information to remain hard to uncover at times and men to remain hidden. Also there were some lawman who were little more than outlaws themselves. Mort had already heard of Jess and knew him to be a very fast gunman who had been involved in a number of incidents along the frontier.
Slim had been riding hard. He thought he might treat himself to a store shave, haircut and meal in this town. Alamo could use a night of good feed in the Livery and he would bed down in one of the forgettable small hotels along the strip. He had watched his money closely and had been scrimping, not knowing when or where his quest would end. This would give him a bit of a pick me up, and he could well afford it.
With most of his checklist attended to, Slim thought a beer before retiring would be a good way to unwind. Saloons were also his best source of Jess's movements so far. Groups of men from varying sources congregated in a Saloon and alcohol made a stranger more approachable and talking came easy for Slim. Slim admitted to himself that he was enjoying the freedom he currently felt. He missed Andy, Jonesy, and even the ranch but not the grinding responsibility he had felt these last few years. His attention was taken by a drunken cowboy clearly in the throws of demonstrating a wild punch up, and it would have remained mildly amusing to Slim until he heard the name, "Harper."
Slim strode over to join the small attentive circle around the cowboy. He stood hands on hips, demonstrating an immeasurable patience, as he waited for the animated and highly amusing pantomime to finish. He was struck by the good rendering of the fist fight because he felt sure he was seeing Jess Harper's distinctive style of brawling. The cowboy who was telling his action story had now moved away, momentarily surrounded by his friends, giggling and lurching towards a drink offered to him as a reward for his entertaining story. Slim was a little concerned at the ending to the story when it appeared that the "Harper" combatant had been taken down. Slim sidled up to the drunken cowboy at the bar.
"Great story! Where did this all go down?" he enquired, pushing a whiskey in the direction of the man.
The cowboy still had his friend's laughter ringing in his ears, and responded willingly. "Newkeep, Mister. That was the best fight I ever see'd, and I've seen a mess of 'em. Why that boy he just kept goin'. That Ramrod, Jake, he wanted that boy to show him how quick he was with his gun, but I reckon he was lucky the boy was in a fightin' frame of mind. Turns out yah know who he was?" He hesitated, and looked Slim squarely in the eyes. "Jess Harper". He turned back to the bar to concentrate on the drinks on hand.
Slim thought better than to press his questioning. He had a clear trail now.
The Triple Hills ranch had herded a few mustangs, and Jess, and a cowboy called Peter Graham, were beginning the process of breaking them whilst a small bunch of men went out to gather more. Both Peter and Jess were getting towards having a couple of animals nearly finished. They both had a few bruises, but that was the nature of the work. Jess took longer gentling his animals but anyone who knew horses recognized that he was extremely good at the task.
Peter talked a lot. Jess found himself irritated by the inane chatter and would rather work alone with the horses. Jack was mostly off doing something on the ranch but when he was around he sought out Jess and they would chat about the good times past. If not for Jack Jess would most likely have been thinking about where he would head next after the horses were finished.
It was a warm morning. Jess had spent time soothing the big chestnut horse as he stood in the corral. He had calmly and quietly moved to the horse's side, continuing his soft stream of dialogue totally engaging the animal. Both Jess and the horse were caught in the moment, neither moving, nor wanting to move. Suddenly a loud shot rang out and the big horse jumped explosively. The big long legs lashed out and the body swiveled abruptly to leap away. Unfortunately for Jess he was caught by a flying hoof on his thigh and fell to the ground in agony.
"Jess, Jess, I'm sorry. There was a rattler, I just forgot, Hell I'm sorry", yelled Peter as he ran across the corral, gun in hand. When he reached the fallen man he could see the ripped trousers and the large patch of blood moistening the cloth. He reached down to Jess, put his gun away, and started to lift Jess. Other cowboys were running to help having heard the close gunshot, and seeing the fallen man. Jess was only just conscious but in a large degree of pain. Together they carried him to the bunkhouse.
The general consensus of the crew was that Jess's leg was not broken. His pants were removed and his leg treated, stitched and bandaged. The boys on the ranch were used to their own doctoring. It did not take Jack long to appear, to find Jess lying listlessly on his cot. Jack looked down at the pale, ill man.
"I'm going to fire Pete," he growled. "I'll be a minute Jess, I'm just going to see the Boss", and with that Jack turned and ran out the door.
A short time later Jack returned. He carried a steaming mug and he bent down beside Jess. "Here, this is willow tea, and it will make you feel somewhat better." Jack lifted Jess's head and tilted the mug so Jess could take a few sips. The process was repeated at slow intervals. Jess had heard of willow tea amongst the Native people and knew of its restorative powers. It was a bitter brew but the mug was drained. Jess began to drift into a welcome sleep.
The process was repeated over the next five days. Each time it was Jack who ministered to Jess, gently persuading him to sip his willow tea and tending and changing his bandages. When Jess complained that the tea was horrible Jack added some honey to cut the taste. He even tried it with coffee. Jess slept as he never had. His dreams were blissful. At times he dreamed of high mountain country bathed in sunshine with magnificent vistas for hundreds of miles and running, gurgling streams. He dreamed of wild mustangs galloping free. He even dreamed of Andy and the Relay Station. Most unlikely he dreamed of the few good times he had as a boy living in the Panhandle. It became that Jess hated to wake.
"You aren't good enough to go back to breaking, but you can sit a horse now", Jack said to Jess. Jess still felt listless, but did not want to admit it to Jack. "You can come work with me. I have a few special deliveries, and could do with an extra man to cover me. What do you say?" Jess felt drained. The willow tea was still helping him sleep, but when he was awake he sometimes felt agitated, but contrarily had little energy. He felt tired. "Why not," he replied to his old buddy. After all now he owed Jack. Jack had cared for him like no-one else ever had done. He would work with his gun now, if that was what Jack wanted.
Jess didn't have long to wait. Jack, Peter, and two hands came and collected him the next morning. Jess was taken aback. He thought Peter had been sacked. He hadn't seen him in the last two weeks since the accident. Jack must have given him the benefit of the doubt. Snakes were dangerous around horses and the ranchhouse. If Peter was still a ranchhand though, how come he hadn't been in the bunkhouse, or in to see him. Jess decided that in the end it wasn't important.
The group headed towards the three hills, and before long were travelling along a small road which to Jess's eye appeared well used. They were still on Triple Hills land, and they continued to weave further into the well covered hills. Jess felt good to be back in the saddle. He had missed the fresh air and Traveler. His leg, although sore, was no problem. As the sun began to dip and the air became cool, the group came to a small ramshackle hut. "We are staying overnight," Jack told Jess as he dismounted. Jack took his saddlebags off and waited for Jess. Jess alighted; his leg twinged a bit but was good for the most part. The other men were already inside, and Peter had a fire almost going. It appeared that this cabin was well stocked. One of the other cowboys set about preparing an evening meal. Jess was intrigued as each man seemed to have a predefined role. Clearly this was not a new experience. Jess wondered if there was danger boding, and his instinct was on high alert that the answer was yes. He checked his gun, and kept it loose on his hip. Jack watched him and seemed pleased.
As the men began to settle down for the night they heard hoof beats approaching. All the men immediately snapped to attention. Jess's gun sprung into his hand. Jack looked surprised. He knew Jess was a fast draw but clearly the time apart had seen him hone his skill even further. Jack was not even sure that he had seen the action. Jack, however, indicated to Jess to hold back. A knock came to the door and Jack McCabe stepped over, checking all the time that Jess had him covered. He opened the door a crack, and on seeing the visitor, he stepped out into the darkness. It was only a moment and Jack was back. Nothing had changed but he carried another pair of saddlebags over his arm. Putting the bags carefully down he nodded to Peter, and Peter in turn picked up Jack's own saddlebags and gave them to Jack. Jack checked again that Jess was covering him, and stepped out with the bags. He returned in a matter of seconds. Nothing was said but the transaction was done. Relief covered Jack's face as they heard the hoof beats heading off down the track further into the hills.
The next morning Jack, Jess, Peter and the boys headed back to the ranch. Jess wanted to ask Jack what the hell was going on, but thought it better to question him when they were by themselves. Whatever was going on the other cowboys knew all about it. Whatever was going on he was now complicit. Once again Jack rode in Jess's shadow all the way back to the ranch.
Slim had made his way through Newkeep. He had a small distraction in the shape of a curvaceous woman that Alamo nearly knocked over in the street, and he had spoken to an impressive lawman who remembered Jess and the night of the barroom brawl. Abe Patterson had given him an insight where he considered the young hellion may be riding, and he agreed with the conclusion. He sensed he was getting closer, if only Jess would stop in one place for more than two minutes.
Slim thought back on Jess's departure from the ranch. He had a lot of time to ponder as he and Alamo rode along. Distance from family and friends gave him a new perspective, and he believed that Jonesy in some way had a part to play in Jess's flight. When Jess had first arrived both he and Jonesy had been cool towards the young man. Where he had warmed he wasn't so sure about Jonesy. Jonesy played his cards close to his chest, and was very straight laced about life. It was not Jonesy's fault. It was the era Jonesy was bought up in. When it became known that Jess was staying at the ranch Slim himself heard disturbing rumors about Jess Harper. A particular stage driver had told him, in confidence, two particularly wild and lurid stories. He never saw any evidence to support the stories and to be truthful he wasn't looking for it. Could he be so sure about Jonesy? To Slim, Jess seemed like a lost soul looking for a place to rest. Of course he was being romantic, Jess was just another drifter. The war affected many families that way. He had been lucky that he had a home to which he could return. Many men had no home or family. Many men had a place to go but not a home. Some men had both but knew they would never fit into that idealized world again.
Slim turned Alamo towards the three hills ranges.
Jess was standing in the bunkhouse and he felt bad. He had a headache and felt like he might throw up. He desperately wanted to talk to Jack. What was going on? He knew it was something outside the law or Jack would not have needed his gun. What of Phil Essex, the so called owner of this spread. How come he never saw him? What did Jack do all day, and what of that creeping disquiet about Pete?
"So, Jess, not feeling so great?" Jack had walked in the door while he had been thinking. He had never been caught unawares like that. What was happening to him? Jess stumbled and was gripped by a cramp. He grabbed for his gun but the pain blinded him.
"I can help you with that boy. I don't want you sick," Jack said softly stepping up and gently removing Jess's gun. He sat Jess on the cot.
"What's going on Jack? What are you into? The fella that runs this ranch, what's with him?" Jess yelled. The pain bit him again. Jack handed him a canteen, and he grabbed it. What the heck, it had that bitter willow tea in it. He didn't want to relax, he wanted answers.
"Take a sip Jess, and when you feel better I'll tell you all"
Jess didn't know what to do. He could hurl that canteen away but he knew if he took a sip he would feel better. He also suddenly became aware that he was in a world of woe, no matter which choice he made. He thought that if he were going to get his answers he must drink, and so he did.
"That's better Jess, you'll feel O.K for a while now. Come up to the Big House with me, and we'll tell you everything. I want you here Jess. It will be like old times. You are faster now than ever. You'll come to like it here, and it will be a good life."
Jess stood. Sure enough the nausea and the cramps had gone. He walked beside Jack to the Boss's house. Jack opened the door and indicated for Jess to enter. He stepped over the threshold and was immediately in awe of the sumptuous interior. Everywhere he looked he saw luxurious items including furniture finished in intricate upholstery and fabulous carvings, windows draped in exquisite plush velvets. He saw wonderful paintings, furs and tapestries. It all glistened with polish and sparkled with gilt, and yet the interior was cool and dark. Jess had travelled, and whilst he led a simple life, he was not naïve. It was a glorious mansion.
It smelt musty. The same smell he had noticed in the bunkhouse that first day.
"Come with me." Jack said leading the way up a flight of rich dark, highly decorated and polished stairs. He led him to a small room at the end of the landing. Jack opened the door and pointed for Jess to enter. Lying on the floor in repose was the man Jess assumed was Phil Essex. He was a handsome man, not an old man, and he was dressed in a red oriental silk robe though he himself was not oriental. He was smoking an opium pipe, and drug paraphernalia was scattered around his body. Jess had seen the stuff before in a Chinese drug den he had stumbled across whilst running from a Marshall in Denver. Like most men he had heard about these dens. Most people ignored them believing the narcotic scourge to be confined to the Chinese. Another man lay in a similar position to the left of Essex. Phil and his friend looked towards Jack and Jess, and smiled. Jess could tell that the men he saw were present in body only. It bought back memories of similar men on the fringes of a camp hospital a few years past.
"Mister Essex, this is Jess Harper, the new man I told you about."
"Jess, this is the elusive Mister Essex and his friend, the chemist Mister Albert Green, the man who will create anything you want, including the so called "willow tea."
"It isn't against the law you know."
To Jess's horror Jack bent down, borrowed Phil Essex's pipe and took a quick puff.
Jack looked up at Jess with an almost demonic grin.
Jess wanted to run. He wanted to jump on Traveler and gallop as far as possible but he realized that it was too late. He felt his shoulders slump and his head hung down. Jess was no longer a free independent young man; he was the property of Jack McCabe, and the chemist Albert Green.
Jack McCabe wanted Jess to know everything. He knew Jess as a restless boy, yet also a hardened gunfighter. He had brought him on board, and cultivated him to this point. How could Jess resist the good life he had going on here. Jack didn't mind sharing. Well, he had no intention of sharing with that idiot Peter Graham and his crew, or Essex for that matter, but he could see Jess and him making a lot of money from this great little setup. After that, who knew, marriage, respectability, a name in the community; maybe even position as mayor or even the legislature. Jack McCabe's greed knew no bounds.
"So Jess, what you saw in the Big House isn't the only thing we got going here. Those rich buffoons from town pay to be entertained out here, and we provide a little coach service to and from town. Whatever, they want. It's no big deal and once they hit that stuff they are too stupid to want much more. Here's the sweet part of it, they keep paying me so no-one finds out. They all want to look like regular families with regular jobs. I run a collection every few weeks. Pete Graham and a couple of boys help do the deed but it's a growing business and I need someone a sight more intimidating, and that's where you my friend, Jess Harper, come in."
Jack thought he wouldn't mention the fringe benefits at the moment. There were just as many women as men involved in this deal. Sometimes the women had trouble covering the hush money. There were ways, personal ways, around that. The women could "pay" directly to the collector and his crew, or come out when required and be more accommodating at the Big House. These women didn't interest him much, but Peter Graham loved it. The fool had got himself over involved recently and there was another mess Jack had to clean up. Fortunately the woman was only a Saloon girl so no-one questioned when she disappeared.
If Essex and Jack McCabe's patrons needed to pay up it was one thing, but blackmail? Jess tried to think of a way out but his mind seemed addled at the moment. He would have to try and play the game and work something out. Who could he trust? He honestly thought it might be too late for him. Jack had done a good job. At the very least he had to get away from here.
Slim rode into town. This was a prosperous looking place. He had noticed lush pastures and plenty of running streams surrounding the town. Clearly this area supported a healthy pastoral industry, and the town swelled with shops, and busy people bustling to and fro. You could tell there was money in this town by the way people dressed, and the determination with which they went about their business. The town sported new buildings, and what appeared a recent addition of a large new church. Slim was increasingly confident that he would find Jess working on an outlying ranch. Abe had told him that fine mustangs were broken and sold up here to supplement the already substantial return from the cattle. Slim had worked out that Jess was not using his gun at present so he would most likely look for a spot of horse breaking. Slim felt himself getting excited at the prospect of meeting up with his fun loving co-worker again. He stopped and thought on it for a moment, because he knew that Jess was more than a co-worker to him and Andy. In the short time he had been with them he had become a friend. Slim had no real friends until Jess.
Slim had to get himself cleaned up again. He wanted a bath, the regular shave and trim, and he wondered if he would be lucky enough to find a laundry. Of course he would make sure Alamo was taken care of first at the Livery.
A ruddy looking young man, still with a smattering of boyhood freckles, took Alamo and led him to a stall. Slim paid for Alamo to have a good rub down, and a special feedbag. Slim was impressed with the Livery business as it seemed quite large, and had an expansive area out back. A number of rigs and buggies for hire stood at the rear of the premises. Sam Cooke, the young livery man, showed Slim where the bath house was located, and explained that the bathhouse had a deal with Lee's Chinese Laundry so both activities could be simultaneously taken care of.
Sam took a long time to consider his answer to Slim's next question as to whether he had heard of a Jess Harper, and told Slim he had not. Slim was disappointed.
Unbeknownst to Slim, Sam lied. Sam's father had warned him to be tight lipped about the men who came through the stables, especially the Triple Hills crowd.
With Alamo in good hands Slim proceeded to attend to his needs. As Slim sank into a warm soaking bath he was blissfully unaware that the object of his search had just pulled into the Livery accompanied by Jack McCabe. Jack had decided to "introduce" Jess to a couple of his regulars, just to put the fear of God into them so to speak. Jess had not spoken a lot with him since his revelations at the Ranch, but he noticed that Jess sipped from his special canteen and that was enough for Jack at present. Jess would come around he was sure of it. This partnership was going to be so good.
As Sam took Jack's big grey horse and Traveler down past the row of stalls, Traveler became alert. He tossed his head and whinnied a greeting. His friend Alamo returned the salutation being pleased to see his old stablemate. Had Jess been more alert he would have been drawn by his horse's behavior. The fact alone that Jess was not paying attention to Traveler showed just how bad things had become.
Jack and Jess walked down the boardwalk. Anyone taking a good look at the two men would see two totally different styles of men. Jack was a fine figure of a man, tall and strong. He carried his head high. No man in this town was his better. He dressed well and wore his gun low. You would remember this man. The man beside him was sinewy, whipcord lean and walked with his head down, his black, well- loved hat pulled down to cover his face. Initially the latter could have looked like an average dusty cowboy. A second look would inform you differently. The colt was carried dangerously low on his snake hips, and his hands rarely strayed from easy distance to the gun. It was Jack's intention that together they would turn heads. In particular Jack wanted the people who knew him already to see Jess with him and get the sense of the danger in the man.
"We have someone to see at Red's Saloon," Jack informed his taciturn friend.
When they entered the Saloon Jack hesitated in the doorway. Jess stopped too. Heads turned, and the Saloon became uncharacteristically quiet. It was as Jack wanted. "Come on Jess," he said intentionally slowly turning to Harper, "We need to see Red Jackson." As they climbed the stairs the Saloon began to buzz. So that was Jess Harper. Some men would tell their family that they saw Jess Harper, and some men would pray they never mentioned his name again. Jack had told them he was bringing in a new enforcer.
Red Jackson heard the downstairs lull and then pitch with excitement, and guessed who was on their way. He looked at the pearl handle colts he had hidden in his desk drawer, and decided against it. When the door opened Red was glad of his decision. "Your money is ready McCabe, and there is a little something for your trouble," he said throwing a wad of notes across the table. A Saloon owner should not be worried about his personal affairs, however, Red knew he had to have a standing in this town to protect what was his. If men thought he was weak he may not last long. The wealthy widow he was courting was the icing on the cake.
Jack and Jess left, making their way down the stairs. They caused the same quietening effect as when they came into the saloon. Inside Jack was laughing. He was so pleased; this was so easy now. He thanked his lucky stars that Jess had chosen to ride into this town.
The response Jack and Jess received was the same at each business they visited. Amy Prower, the milliner; Bob Lynch, the banker; Jane Kissener, the corsetier's assistant; and Rob Wyatt, the taxidermist. Jess was astounded at just how much money Jack was collecting.
"See I told you Jess, easier than robbing banks."
Before they went back to Triple Hills Jack decided they would have a cold drink to celebrate Jess's first day on the job. After all Jess must be tired from meeting all those people. Jack decided on a drink at the little cantina on the edge of town.
Slim made his way to Red's saloon. Red's looked the most frequented of the Saloons, and whilst Jess may not choose to drink at such a salubrious establishment, it would contain more patrons and therefore increase his chances of a hit on his missing friend. As Slim stepped into the Saloon he became aware of the electric atmosphere and animated chatter. Something big had just gone down. Slim fronted up to the bar, and then he caught bits of many conversations. Slim didn't have to ask after his friend here. More than once he heard "Jess Harper", "killer" and "Triple Hills." Whatever Jess was doing in this town he definitely was not keeping a low profile. Slim decided he would go to the Livery and ask young Sam Cooke for directions to this Triple Hills ranch.
Jack and Jess went to collect their mounts. Jess felt dirty, angry and ashamed. He started to saddle Traveler. Traveler was still talking to Alamo, and this time Jess noticed his horse's behavior.
"You made a friend did you boy?"
Jess glanced down the row of stalls. What the hell! It was Alamo, Slim's horse. What was Alamo doing here? Slim would never sell that horse; it was his 'til the day it died, or it broke Slim's neck, whichever came first. Had Alamo been stolen? It was Alamo wasn't it? He moved closer reaching out a tentative hand.
"Trust my horse to find you", a languid voice came from behind him. He recognized it instantly.
Jess spun, and in that moment his eyes locked with those of Slim.
Slim was shocked. Jess looked terrible. He looked frail, he was gaunt in the face and his dark cobalt blue eyes shone with an unnatural sheen. For the briefest of moments Slim saw astonishment, pleasure and then a deep, deep sadness cross that expressive face, and then it closed down.
"Who is your friend then Jess?" Jack had stepped up beside Jess. Slim noticed that the stranger was right up close to Jess, adopting an almost protective stance. The man did not sound protective though, he sounded almost threatening.
" Aarh he's nobody Jack, just a man I met down Utah way. We had a drink and some good times at the… Eldorado, wasn't it? Jess looked deadpan at Slim.
"Yeah, it was the Eldorado. Boy, you sure made them miners happy that night. I reckon you should have just given them your pay before you started playing cards. You want to catch up over a drink?"
"The Eldorado in Silver Springs; I've been there. Nice little painting over the bar." Jack interrupted, challenging Slim.
"Well, she is a shapely heifer" laughed Slim. He had been to that Saloon years ago and had told Jess about the painting of the cow over the bar mirror. Most bars had semi-naked women but this bar had a cow!
"Now how about that drink?" Slim asked nonchalantly.
Jack relaxed and looked toward Jess.
"Got to get going", Jess hesitated, " Sorry, we probably won't meet again, but thanks for the good times," and with that dismissal Jess turned his back and led Traveler through the door before mounting and riding off with Jack by his side.
Slim took time to mull over and consider what had just happened. He etched it into his memory before time tried to alter his initial perception. Jess had been real pleased to see him, there was no doubt. Whilst it was only a flicker; he had caught that. When the other man came along Jess protected him from the stranger. The other man must be dangerous. Jess tried to tell Slim not to pursue him. Why? The way the other man stood close right up next to Jess Slim guessed that he needed Jess. Jess went with him. Again why? Did he have something on Jess?
Jack was still on a high about his day in town. It had gone so incredibly well. He had so much money, and he didn't need Peter Graham mucking things up again. He might take Jess up to the Big House tonight and show him the best of what was on offer. Why not get the boy fully hooked.
Jess rode in silence. He was hurting. Slim was never a nobody. The best Slim could do was leave him to his fate. Even if Slim tried to help him out of the mess he knew he was addicted to the opiate in the "willow tea", and Jonesy had made it plain that he could never return to the Relay Station. Jonesy had told him that Slim felt the same way, so what was Slim doing here? As far as Jess could see there was no going back, and the future looked bleak. Maybe he should just throw in wholeheartedly with Jack and have a bit of fun.
When they returned they started towards the bunkhouse. Jess had thought things through.
"Come on up with me Jess. Trust me, you'll like it. That little blast you get now will be ten times better."
"Nah, Jack, I'm tired. My leg is sore. I don't want it tonight. It would just be a waste."
"O.K boy, I'm in. I'll see you in a couple of days. Tonight I celebrate big time. Yeehaw!"
Jess had worked out that this was the only time he could get away. He had a moment of clarity and figured that he could not help the townspeople get away from Jack. He could not help them from themselves and their habits. All he could do was to try and leave it behind. Jess figured he probably couldn't save himself, but he had to try. If he stayed here someone would die. Tonight he would attempt to stay sober, he would let the nightmares come, and when the rest of the ranch was asleep, or sedated, he would leave.
Time went slowly. What seemed an eternity eventually passed. Jess looked around and carefully rose. He so desperately needed a drink and his throat was parched. Later, he thought, grabbing his canteen. No-one had noticed that he slept in his clothes, and tonight even his boots were covered by his blanket. He left his saddle. Picking up his saddle was bound to wake one of the sleeping hands. Jess crept softly outside. He moved towards the stable where he knew Traveler waited for him.
"Where you going Harper?" It was Peter Graham. Jess grabbed his head in his hands, and sank to his knees with a groan. Graham came closer. "You wreck. I should have made sure that horse killed you despite what Jack told me. If I'd known you'd be taking my place. Not so high and mighty now are….." Jess exploded. Graham went down quickly. It was like Jess had the anger bound tight and the spring released. Peter Graham would be unconscious for a good while.
Jess continued into the stables. He found Traveler who turned his head and greeted him. Traveler had missed Jess's company these weeks. The horse may have been surprised that his rider offered no saddle but he trusted Jess. He accepted the bridle and Jess led him out onto the laneway. Jess walked Traveler a distance, with his hand to his nostrils. Traveler understood Jess wanted him to be quiet. It was a still night, with some moonlight. The lights still blazed in the Big House but the rest of the ranch slept. Finally, at what he thought was a safe distance, Jess climbed onto Traveler and he moved him down the road. He couldn't gallop at this time of night. He did not want Traveler to injure his legs. The one thing Jess could not do was damage this animal in his desire to escape.
Jess felt anxious. He kept going. At first he imagined horses were racing after him, but he realized it was not the case. It was hard not to break into a gallop. Peter Graham must be raising the alert soon. Jess kept on this road even though it led to town because Traveler was more important than anything.
Suddenly Jess made out a figure riding in the moonlight towards him. The hairs raised on the back of his neck. He hadn't considered that. It had to be one of the hands? He rested his hand on his gun. When the figure got closer he would get the drop on him. Hopefully he would not have to kill. Jess drew his gun. His hand was shaky. His years on the drift using his gun kicked in, and his hand steadied. His eyesight narrowed to take in his target. He was the Jess Harper of old.
Traveler whinnied a greeting. The rider's horse greeted Traveler in response. Could it be? Only one man sat astride tall in the saddle like that. It was Slim. As Slim approached Jess was overcome with relief, and the shakes returned.
"Nice night for a ride", the laconic Slim grinned. "Need some help cowboy?"
Jess almost felt himself come undone. He never needed anyone but here he was desperate in so many ways for help. He slid off Traveler's back.
"Could use some, yeah" he croaked back, before he toppled to the ground.
Slim was beside Jess in an instant. He had been right, the boy was sick. Jess's canteen was wrapped across his chest. He had no saddle. Slim would worry about this later. Slim slipped his own canteen off his saddle and put it to Jess's lips. Jess drank a long draft. He took Jess's canteen and put it with his on Alamo's saddle. Jess was starting to regain consciousness.
The only way to do this Slim figured was to get Jess up in front of him. Alamo was a big horse, and he could take the extra for a while. As Slim helped Jess up onto the saddle, Slim became aware just how thin Jess had become. Traveler was tied to Alamo, and because the horses were old buddies they went quite happyily together.
Slim was a smart man. If truth be known, he was smarter than most. He figured that Jess was running from something, or someone. He figured it was probably the man in the Livery from town today. Slim had come out of town on a side road. He had been casing the area, before heading to Triple Hills. He thought it best not to go to town, and he thought it best to get off this road. If anyone was chasing Jess this night they would assume he would stick to the road; any sensible person would. Slim went back down his side road. He had seen another turn off, and was hoping for shelter somewhere along the track.
In the far distance Slim saw a small group of horses galloping along the main road. Even by moonlight the horses raised dust the speed they were going. They must be after Jess. They would have caught up with him and Jess if they had remained on that road. Slim smiled to himself because the mad moonlit race would obliterate the tracks Alamo and Traveler made, and hopefully where he had met up with Jess.
Although the terrain was beginning to get uneven underfoot, daylight was breaking. Alamo had stamina and courage and he was still good to carry them further. Slim found a small sheltered area, and placed a dazed Jess comfortably on the soft undergrowth. He tied Traveler close by. Slim's only concern was wild animals but he would only be a short time looking around. Slim understood that Traveler would most likely defend Jess, and that Jess would not stray from Traveler. It was only a short time and Slim returned. He had found a cave where they could rest up. He had checked the cave and it was fairly open so no wildlife lurked within.
The last part getting to the cave was the hardest but Slim and Alamo managed. Slim finally had Jess relatively comfortable. The horses were well hidden. This was an excellent hiding spot, and Slim wondered if it had ever been used for a similar purpose before. Slim had bought the saddle and canteens up to the cave. His saddle bags held some cold food and they could stay here for some time if need be. Slim was tired and he thought he would get some shuteye before Jess woke. He grabbed a canteen and took a swig. Slim immediately spat the water out. It was bad. He checked the other, and the water was sweet and fresh. He emptied the bad water out, and refilled the canteen from a little spring he had discovered at the side of the rocks. This truly was a blessed part of the world.
The next morning Jess woke up to find Slim standing over him, that dollar grin stretching out wide on that broad handsome face. Physically Jess felt OK. His leg had stopped throbbing and he remembered most of last night up until meeting Slim. Jess sat up.
"Slim, what are you doing? Are we OK? You can't be here!" Jess frantically looked around.
"Whoa. Settle down, take it easy Jess."
"Slim, you don't understand. They will come for me. I don't think I can go back. They will kill me, and you, if they find you with me!"
"Take it easy. We are safe here for a few days at least. We'll work it out." Slim looked down at his friend.
Jess stood. He was good on his feet but he was parched. There was something he needed; then he remembered. He touched his hand to his chest searching for it, and looked intently around the hard floor of the cave. He started ambling around hoping to find his canteen. He saw both canteens resting together on the other side of Slim's saddle, blanket and saddlebags.
Slim watched him.
Jess grabbed his canteen, and pulled the lid off. Before he could place it to his lips, Slim said,"I had to clean it out Jess, the water was bad and luckily there is a little spring outside."
Jess looked at the canteen as if it were a snake, he put it to his lips for a brief taste, and then to Slim's utter amazement he hurled the canteen across the expanse of the cave. It hit the rocky wall, and skittered to a stop on its side, the life giving water partially spilling to run into the dusty soil.
Slim started to speak, but the explosion that was Jess Harper, wheeled and faced him. Jess's face was twisted in torment. "Why Slim, why'd you do that," he screamed," you really do hate me. Why, why are you here? What did I ever do to you?" Jess's hand went to his side, and he pulled his revolver swiftly from its holster.
"Whoa" Slim was stunned. He spoke in a voice you would use to gentle an unbroken, wild animal. He slowly lifted his right hand away from his side, and made a motion with his arm out palm face down." Put that away Jess. I'm not here to hurt you. You know that."
Jess stared at Slim. His gun was held steadfastly on the big man." I need what was in that canteen, you don't understand. I gotta…." Jess's voice reflected his desperation. He began frantically looking about the floor of the cave. Jess's gun hand dropped ever so slightly, and Slim made his move.
A shot rang out. Within the confines of the cave the noise was deafening. A flock of birds nearby took instant flight from their early morning resting place, and Alamo and Traveler lifted up their heads in curiosity. The big man, Slim Sherman, went down.
Jess stood suspended in that moment. He stared at Slim unmoving on the ground in front of him. He had shot and killed Slim Sherman. He couldn't shoot and kill Jack McCabe or Peter Graham, but he had killed his friend Slim. He dropped to his knees, the gun limp in his seemingly paralyzed hand. He folded in on himself. There was no God; there was no life for Jess Harper. It had come to this.
His world ended then.
Jess felt a heavy blow to the back of his head, and he fell face first into a longed-for cushion of blackness. Oblivion was welcome.
Slim looked down at the body of his friend. He grabbed his bandana and wrapped it around the top of his left arm. It was a scratch. Just as well Harper was off his game. That was the closest Slim ever wanted to come facing off against Jess Harper.
When Jess came to he saw the silhouette of Slim against the bright daylight outside. I'm hallucinating he thought, and he shook his head. Bad idea, that rattled his brain and it hurt; a tiny bead of blood trickled around his ear. He felt like death. He was sitting against the rock wall, and his hands were bound.
Slim walked over. "Well Killer, you better tell me what it's all about because I aint gonna be target practice again. Tell me now Jess, I mean it."
Jess felt broken, and he hung his head. "The canteen Slim, it tasted bad because it was bad. It had a mixture of opiate in it. Oh, not enough to get too rat faced, just enough to take the edge off. That man in the stable that day he was my boss, and he found it was a good way to keep his dog under his control. Slim, that whole place, that Triple Hills, it is all about narcotics."
Slim took it in. He realized the implications for his friend. Instinctively he knew he had to let his friend go on. It had to be said; it had to be in the open.
"And what of you Jess?"
Jess lifted his sorry head. His damp hair fell about his tortured face and what he said echoed in the stillness of the cave.
"I'm nothing Slim. Always have been nothing. If I can't live life without sucking on some special brew then I want to go. Turn me loose. I can end it all quickly in some forgotten street. There are plenty of men happy to gun down the great Jess Harper. I ain't nothing to nobody, least of all myself." His head dropped.
Slim paused," Look at me Jess." He waited until the head lifted, but it remained fallen.
"Look at me Damn you to hell!" Slim was angry. He was angry at Jack McCabe, he was angry at Triple Hills, he was angry at Jess's whole lousy upbringing and the world that had made his friend feel this way about himself. The one person he was not angry with was the man he was yelling at.
Jess responded best to anger; and the head lifted.
"We can fight this. We will fight it, we will end Triple Hills. I will help you get better. And when it's all done you are coming back home with me. I need help at that Relay Station, and I want my friend to help me. Why am I here? That's why, to bring you home."
Jess's head dropped again, but this time it was so his emotions didn't show. No-one had ever spoken to him like that. Jess could tell from the passion in Slim's voice that he meant every word. It would be a fresh start for him. It was what he needed, and more importantly it was what he wanted.
The next few days were the hardest either man had ever faced. Slim kept Jess bound. He had taken his gun, but Slim knew what a street fighter Jess was. Although Slim was the bigger he had witnessed Jess's brawling abilities, and he also knew how unstable he was in his present condition. Neither Slim nor Jess mentioned withdrawal, but this was what was happening.
At times Jess seemed perfectly rational. It was tempting to loosen his ties, but both of them knew what had to be done. At times Jess tried to charm Slim into letting him go, and at other times he ranted and cursed until the air turned blue. It was O.K, Slim could move the horses or take in the vista. He did a little exploring, never too far from the cave. During quiet moments he and Jess would talk a little about some of their adventures.
The nights were worst. Jess had always been plagued with nightmares, but now he seemed trapped in vivid hallucinations. He moaned, he yelled, he cried, he even begged. Slim was there for him, and when he woke exhausted and drenched in sweat, Slim would talk in that soothing way he had, and look after him with a damp cloth and a drink of cool spring water.
On the fourth night Jess slept. He woke in the morning and he knew the difference. He wouldn't say he was cured, but he felt "normal."
"Howdy friend, you're looking a whole lot better this morning. Hungry?" and Jess was ravenous. Slim had taken to lighting a little camp fire. He had scouted enough to know it was fairly safe, and he figured the Triple Hills boys would think Jess long gone. Slim had even found a small stream with trout.
Jess lifted up his hands and without a word Slim untied him. Jess kept his food down.
They stayed longer in the cave, and used the stream to bathe, and wash out their clothes. Slim had given Jess his gun back. It seemed this was almost a healing place and nature took care of their needs. Jess lost that pale pallor and his body responded. Slim could see he was returning to his old self. One morning after Slim had made one of his corniest jokes, Jess threw his head back and laughed. Slim took it as a sign that it was time for them to leave their little Paradise.
They made a plan.
Slim had ridden into town. No-one knew he had any connection to Jess. He checked thoroughly and there were no Triple Hills boys in town. He rode back to Jess, and in turn Jess rode into town. He left Traveler at the Livery. Sam Cooke looked hard at the rider; for one thing he had no saddle. Jess offered no explanation. To Sam Cooke the man seemed different from last he saw him, and no words were exchanged. Jess was focused on what he had to do. This time when he strode the boardwalk to Red's Saloon there was no mistaking this man for a dusty cowboy. His head was up and eyes were set in front of him. Townsfolk watched him and they could tell he was a man with a steely purpose.
Jess pushed open the saloon doors. He hesitated. It was like history repeated itself. All eyes were on him, and the room became silent. He stalked to the bar, and turned.
"Tell those Triple Hills boys I'm here, and I want to see them," he raised his voice and the husky deep tones reached every corner.
Red Jackson was coming down the stairs. He felt a sudden chill, and made a frantic move to grasp his pearl handle gun. Harper drew and fired in the blink of an eye, and Red Jackson felt no pain. He would never worry about his addiction again.
"I'll be in Red's room when they come," he said and proceeded upstairs, stepping over Red's lifeless body on his way. A man ran from the bar to deliver Harper's ultimatum.
Unknown to the bar customers, Jess did not go to Red's room. He stealthily went down the back stairs behind the Saloon to a horse tied and waiting in the back alley. Slim had hired this strong, able horse earlier in the day. Jess would leave Traveler at the Livery to reinforce the ruse that he was still in town.
Jess rode back to Slim and they waited on the side rode. The wait was rewarded later when plumes of dust indicated the Triple Hills boys were on their way for a showdown with Harper. Slim and Jess acted quickly. They urged their horses into action, and raced towards Triple Hills.
It was eerily quiet at the ranch. Any cowboys left at the ranch were just that, normal everyday cowboys. Jess went to the stable. He found and retrieved his saddle and swopped it for the one on his hire horse. No-one said anything; they were used to minding their own business and besides they had seen this one with McCabe. Jess and Slim looked and acted like every day hands. The two men mounted and went over to the front of the Big House. They dismounted, and entered the ornate front door, guns drawn. Slim was utterly astounded at the opulence in front of him. Jess indicated the landing upstairs and Slim brought his attention back to the task in hand. They made their way to the room at the end of the landing. Jess carefully opened the door. It was as if time stood still. Essex and the chemist, Albert Green, were lying on the bamboo mats in an almost identical position as when Jess had last seen them. Jess holstered his gun, and turned to Slim. He didn't see Green move
Green grabbed a lamp and hurled it at Jess, in his other hand he picked up a small derringer that was laying amongst the clutter. Slim pushed Jess aside and fired one shot at Green who fell back. The oil lamp had missed Jess and splattered against the wallpaper, and fire ignited in its trail from the bamboo mats, across the room and up the wall. Essex screamed because the oil had spilt on his silk robes, and in the shortest of times, the man and the room became an inferno. Slim and Jess ran along the landing and out the door. "Fire", Slim yelled, and what few workers remained at the ranch ran towards the giant plume of black smoke. Flames began to lick the upstairs windows. Staff ran from the back of the house.
Slim and Jess mounted their fidgeting horses and swiftly retreated down the road. In the distance they could see the Big House with all its treasures well alight, and the plume of evil black smoke filled the sky. The house was beyond saving, and Essex and the chemist, Albert Green, were dead. It wasn't quite what they had planned but this outcome was pretty much the same. This was the end of the no name town's drug den. They turned their backs and rode.
Slim and Jess rode back into town the long way, not wanting to meet McCabe or his men on the road back to the scene of destruction. They returned the hire horse and slipped the saddle onto Traveler. Sam received his payment for services. Jess looked into Sam's eyes and said a heartfelt, "Thanks." Sam could tell it meant something special but it was beyond him.
Jess and Slim started the long trip back to Laramie.
"So Jess, why did you leave?"
Jess knew this was coming. Slim had been waiting for him to bring the subject up, but he had not.
They were almost back to Laramie. They had talked about many things, but Jess still had things too close to his heart to share. He wondered if he could ever reveal that part of his life to anyone.
He could see now that Jonesy had lied. Jonesy told him Slim had asked him to fire the hired hand. Jonesy had said Slim was disgusted by him, and did not want to be in the same room as him. Jess could not see how he could fit into the Relay Station if Jonesy disliked him so much. Jess could cope with people not liking him but he usually moved on. This time though it felt different. He had forged a true bond with Slim and it was a bond truthfully forged in blood, sweat and tears. Slim promised something Jess never had before in his life.
"I know Jonesy had something to do with it Jess".
This was so personal. Still if he stayed at The Relay Station Slim was bound to find out. He had trusted Slim this far.
"If I tell you this story Slim you must promise never to bring it up again. It's not something I'm proud of." Jess looked at Slim for a go ahead, and Slim nodded his head.
It was the setting for a story. It was night and the embers on the fire were dying down. Hot by day, cold by night. They must be getting close to Laramie.
Jess gazed into the fire. "I was getting ready to go into town. It was my day off you may remember. I thought I'd clean myself up." Jess glanced at Slim with a wistful quick little smile. "There are a couple of pretty girls in Laramie."
Trust you to find them, thought Slim.
"Anyway, I was getting changed. I had my shirt off getting the clean one. Now normally I don't do this with anyone around. Jonesy came in, he didn't think, he just had his gums flappin' about some such. He saw my back, Slim," Jess paused getting the strength to go on.
"I don't know what he thought." Jess's voice dropped. " I…I..got.. marks Slim. I got marks from the lash. They ain't so bad now but you can still see 'em. It was prison Slim. I don't do so well in a cage." Jess's voice broke a little as he was transported back to his personal hell.
"It weren't the first time neither and I aint gonna talk about that," he said firmly. He looked at Slim's immobile face. He was listening at least.
Jess turned back to the light of the fire.
"Jonesy went right off. He said it was all true what Clem had told him, and that I was a no account Reb. He said I was a killer and that there was no place at the Relay Station for me. I didn't understand half of what he was ranting about. But he said you'd already told him you couldn't stomach me, and you told him to fire me. Said you couldn't even be in the same room as me, and I better get out before I made him sick. He said Andy was scared of me and I had no place round decent people."
"I tell you Slim I shot out of there so fast."
Jess turned and looked at Slim. He felt ashamed. The thought of his scarred back always made him feel that way.
Slim gathered his words carefully. "I don't know what Clem told him. I do know Clem told me one or two stories about you that were pretty far- fetched. I judge people how I find them. I can tell you this much. I never asked Jonesy to fire you. I never said any of that about you. Quite the opposite Jess, I thought you were working out real good, and Andy thinks you're better than cherry pie. You should have seen him when I said I was going looking for you. He was thrilled."
Slim didn't say a word about the jail. He had already figured that jail time may have been in Jess's past. It just wasn't important in the here and now.
'I'll sort Jonesy out Jess, it'll work out, I guarantee you."
Slim's guarantee was enough for Jess.
Let the cards fall where they may.
END…for now.