I Left Daisies on Your Grave

Daisy Cooper stood in the middle of the Sherman house, hands on her hips surveying the room she'd spent the entire previous day cleaning. She was soon taking Mike to visit the dentist in Cheyenne and wanted the house to be clean for Slim and Jess, even though she knew the two men wouldn't keep it looking that way for long.

She straightened the already straight curtains and brushed some imaginary dust from the mantle above the fireplace before she walked into the kitchen to make sure the coffee was still hot from breakfast. The stage driver would probably want a cup before they took off for Cheyenne. Her eyes caught the movement of Mike through the window as he ran from the barn and over the fence into the corral.

"Mike!" Daisy called out the kitchen doorway trying to get the boy's attention. "Mike! You need to come get cleaned up. Our stage will be here in an hour!"

"That's today?" Mike groaned as he came running and slid to a stop in front of Daisy. "I thought you said I had to go to the dentist on Tuesday. Tomorrow's Tuesday, ain't it?"

"Well, yes, it is," Daisy said trying to brush some of the dirt off Mike's face. "But in order to get you there on time tomorrow, we must leave today."

"Oh," Mike said looking down at his feet. "I thought I had one more day. I'd planned on…"

"You planned what?" Daisy urged Mike to finish his sentence.

"Nothin'," Mike worked his mouth back and forth in concentration then added, "I guess I better get ready."

With the stage just minutes down the road, Daisy walked into Mike's bedroom to see what was taking him so long only to find the boy lying in bed, blankets up to his chin and a solemn expression on his face.

"What do we have here?" Daisy asked, a knowing smile spread across her face.

"I'm sick, Aunt Daisy," Mike made his voice sound weak and wobbly. "I can't go to Cheyenne to the dentist."

"Oh, really?" Daisy put her hand on his cool forehead. "You certainly were fine just a few minutes ago when you were running all over like a wildcat."

"It came on sudden like."

"Hmmm," Daisy saw Slim come through the front door and ushered him into the room.

"What's the matter, Mike?" Slim knelt down beside Mike's bed.

"I'm sick, Slim," Mike whimpered.

"I think it's a rare case of dentisitis," Daisy winked at Slim.

"Oh," Slim nodded. "That's a terrible disease to have. You know Mike, there's only one cure for it."

"Wh-what's that?"

"By soaking a fresh, right out of the swamp toad in warm water with a fresh chicken egg stirred just 'til the yolk breaks. After you drink the toad and egg water, you follow that with a stiff swig of vinegar mixed with black pepper. Knocks the dentisitis right out of a kid just like that!" Slim snapped his fingers. "I'll holler for Jess to catch a toad and I'll go get an egg. You'll feel better so fast you won't keep the stage to Cheyenne waiting at all!"

"No wait!" Mike leapt from his bed. "I think I feel just fine now!"

"Of course you do!" Daisy laughed. "Now you get dressed, young man. I can hear the stage approaching right now."

"Daisy," Jess called through the doorway to confirm what Daisy had heard. "Stage is here."

"Bye Slim, Jess," Mike waved through the stage window a few minutes later after Slim and Jess changed the teams. "I hope that old dentist doesn't take all my teeth!"

"He won't, Mike," Daisy assured the boy then turned towards Slim and Jess who stood outside the stage. "Be careful both of you and make sure you eat something other than beans and jerky, and don't get into any fights. Did I forget anything? Oh, yes, don't do the laundry, it'll keep until I get back, and don't forget to make the coffee for the passengers of the stage!"

"We'll remember, Daisy," Slim waved as the stage was starting to roll. "Bye!"

"Jess! Please stay out of trouble!" Daisy gave one more command before they were out of earshot. "Goodbye!"

"I guess she told you," Slim nudged Jess with his elbow.

"You know I don't always do as I'm told," Jess slapped his partner on the back with a mischievous smile. "Well Hard Rock, we've got the place to ourselves for a couple of days. What should we do?"

"What do you think?" Slim pointed to the horses moving about the corral. "Work!"

xxx

A partly cloudy sky met Daisy and Mike as they exited the hotel ready to head home. Mike's fears of the dentist had been for nothing and he even had left the doctor's office smiling as the gray haired man had given him a piece of candy for being good. Daisy had their tickets in her purse and was eager to get to the depot and be on their way.

"Looks like we'll have plenty of company on the stage today," Daisy said to Mike as she watched a woman in her thirties escorting a boy slightly older than Mike to the stage depot just as they arrived. Already a well-dressed man was waiting nearby to board their stage to Laramie. "And maybe you'll make friends with that other little boy."

"Aunt Daisy," Mike sat down on the bench outside the depot, placing his hand gingerly on his middle. "I don't feel very good."

"What?" She turned and placed her hand on his forehead. "You do feel feverish. What all hurts?"

"My head aches, but mostly my stomach," Mike groaned slightly. "I'm not pretending this time, Aunt Daisy."

"I should think not by the looks of you. Bed is where you should be," Daisy gathered their satchel. "I'll just go get that room back in the hotel and tuck you in."

"What about the stage, Aunt Daisy? We're supposed to be on it."

"There'll be another stage tomorrow or the next," Daisy assured. "Sick boys shouldn't be bouncing around on a dusty stage, so it's off to bed for you. I'll just stop in at the telegraph office and send a wire to Slim and Jess so they won't worry."

Passing the telegraph office on the way to the hotel, Daisy paused outside the door to read a sign that said, "BE BACK SOON". She frowned slightly at the inconvenience that she'd have to come back, but then ushered Mike forward to the hotel. She was determined to not wait there with Mike until the telegraph operator returned, for he needed to be in bed.

Nearly two hours after rechecking into the hotel, Daisy sat in a chair near the window and worked on her knitting. Glad she'd thought to bring it along, for keeping her fingers busy helped the time to not drag on too slowly. She paused for a moment to stretch out the kinks in her back and heard the boy start to turn in his bed.

"Aunt Daisy," Mike sighed waking up from a nap.

"What is it, dear?"

"Did you ever send that telegraph to Slim and Jess?"

"Oh, my goodness, no," Daisy put her hand on her cheek in dismay. "I better run down right now. I can't imagine what Slim and Jess would think if we weren't on that stage this evening."

"I know," Mike smiled even though he felt queasy. "They'd think they was gonna have to eat their own cookin' again!"

xxx

Mose pulled tightly for the horses to stop, eagerly looking for a sign of hope. Slim and Jess were both in sight, but nowhere could he see either Mike running around or Daisy's sweet smile. When the wheels stopped turning, he hopped off the stage like he was at least twenty years younger.

"Howdy, Mose." Slim was smiling. Either he didn't know anything, or everything was all right.

"Say, Slim," Mose strained his neck to see through the open door of the house. "I don't suppose Miss Daisy came in on the early stage."

"No, Mose," Slim shook his head. "She and Mike aren't coming in until the evening stage, not 'til around six. You know that."

"That's what I was afraid of," Mose took his hat off and started scrunching it with his hands.

"What's going on, Mose?" Jess had just come up, seeing Mose looking so agitated he knew something must have been wrong.

"There's bad news coming out of Cheyenne," Mose grimaced. "Gosh, I sure wish I wasn't the one telling you fellows this."

"Telling us what, Mose?" Slim said with mounting tension.

"The stage coming out of Cheyenne today," Mose wiped his eyes as if the realization of the news was just sinking in. "It was run off the road by a bunch of sidewinders. No survivors."

"Mose!" Slim exclaimed. "You've got to be mistaken!"

"I wish I was, Slim," Mose blew his nose with his hankie. "I have a copy of the telegraph right here in my pocket. I came into the stage office just after the wire was delivered."

Slim took the folded paper out of Mose's pocket and read the words, the color draining from his face. He handed it to Jess who read the words out loud.

"Cheyenne stage to Laramie attacked. All on board dead. Driver. Shotgun rider. Man. Woman and boy."

"Woman and boy," Slim barely echoed.

"Daisy and Mike."Jess said with extra roughness in his voice.

"I haven't felt this grieved in my whole life," Mose leaned weakly against his stage. "Oh, my sweet Daisy and that little monkey, Mike, gone! No, no, no!"

"I don't know about you, Slim," Jess spoke while checking to see if his gun was fully loaded. "But I'm gonna start tracking. And when I find those scoundrels, I'm gonna start killing."

Slim stood behind Jess as his hand came up and clutched him on the left shoulder. Usually, Slim, being more levelheaded, would have said something to try to calm Jess and change his mind, but not this time. He gave Jess' shoulder a squeeze and said slowly, "I'm with you, Jess. Just leave one for me."

"You're going after them, huh?" Mose asked while mopping the moisture from his face. "I wish I could go too. If I were younger I'd…"

"We know you would, Mose," Slim patted Mose on the back.

"Anything I can do for you boys, just name it," Mose offered. "It'd be like me having a hand in nailing them bandits."

"There is one thing," Slim said as he started to unhitch the team attached to the stage as if he suddenly realized there was work to do. "As you pass by the neighbors place, stop and send those kids over here. The oldest is fifteen, they can take care of the ranch while Jess and I are gone."

"Will do. And I'll pass the word along that the drivers and shotgun riders can help with the teams."

"Thanks, Mose." Slim and Mose finished changing teams then Mose climbed back up in his seat.

"You get 'em, Slim, Jess," Mose said with fresh tears in his eyes then slapped the reigns and then was rolling out of sight.

"You heard the man," Jess said gruffly. "Let's go get 'em!"

When the horses were saddled and a note quickly penned for the neighbor kids left in the barn, with a passion for revenge in both of their souls, Slim and Jess were ready to leave. They looked at each other, no words being said, and they mounted their horses for an emotional ride to Cheyenne.

As he started out, Slim glanced towards the two gravestones that marked his Pa and Ma. When his Pa had died, Ma had been diligent about leaving flowers at his resting place. When she passed, it was his duty to follow. The bouquets he'd picked were usually of mixed wildflowers or the roses around the house when they were in season. And now he'd have to pick more.

As the horses neared the graves, Slim almost pulled up on his reigns. His eyes bore into the spot where two new graves would be dug. He'd add the wildflowers to Mike's grave, the wildness would suit him, but for Daisy, there should be something more. With a choked feeling in his throat, Slim envisioned himself standing there, eyes looking heavenward saying, "I left daisies on your grave."

If only Slim had paused at his thoughts instead of keeping up with Jess, their revenging grief could have been turned around, for no more than ten minutes had ticked off the clock after they left that Sheriff Mort Cory rode up to the house.

"Slim! Jess!" Mort dismounted and walked to the door, opened it and went inside. "Where are you? I've got a telegraph from Daisy!"

Nothing looked abnormal to Mort's experienced eyes. The coffee pot was still on the stove and the basin was full of unwashed dishes. The broom leaning against the wall next to a small pile of debris clearly indicated that the two men had probably thought about doing a little clean up, but instead, had started doing something else, or just plain decided it wasn't worth the effort.

"Slim!" Mort exited the house and walked to the barn. "Jess!"

Peeking inside he noticed that the boy's horses were gone and figured they must have been out with the herd or mending fences. The recent stagecoach tracks were clearly visible so he knew they'd been there not long before.

"They'll probably be back soon," Mort said to no one but his resting horse. "I'll just leave this telegraph on the table where they'll find it when they come back."

Mort knew what the telegraph had said, for he'd been waiting for any more news to come over the wire about the stagecoach accident. Since Whitey, the telegraph operator, often talked aloud as he received the messages, Mort knew how Mike had taken ill and they'd both be staying an extra day or two in Cheyenne. He'd been greatly relieved to have heard that message on Whitey's tongue, for he'd been scared to his core that the 'woman and boy' that had come on the earlier message that the next would say the deceased names were Daisy Cooper and Mike Williams.

"At least no one saw that first awful message about the accident except you and me, Whitey," Mort rethought the words he'd spoke to Whitey after Daisy's message arrived.

"I took a copy to the stage line boss, too, Sheriff," was Whitey's reply. "No one else was there, though, so it shouldn't have spread beyond him."

"That's good, Whitey," Mort had looked south where the Sherman spread was. "I surely don't want to know what Slim and Jess would do if they'd thought Daisy and Mike were dead."

"No," Mort shook his head, his thoughts back to the present, looking one last time to see if he could catch a glimpse of Slim or Jess riding back in. "I surely don't want to know."

xxx

After darkness had completely taken over the sky, with only a few stars peeking through a pocket of clouds, Slim finally called a halt so their weary horses could have a break from their hurried dash towards Cheyenne. Slim and Jess made a simple camp, neither eating, and spread their bedrolls out to get some rest. They'd barely spoken during the trip so far and as the hours of night began to pass, Slim still lay unsleeping. When he began to fidget with the buttons on his shirt he realized he needed to start bearing some of his burden to his friend.

"You asleep?" Slim lifted his head to look at Jess, who was lying on his back with his hand wrapped around his revolver.

"No," Jess answered. "How can I?"

"I can't either," Slim sighed. "I just can't stop thinking about it."

"I know."

"I can't imagine what life is going to be like without them," Slim's sigh was deep. "Daisy and Mike are so much a part…"

"Look Slim," Jess interrupted harshly. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"I know it's hard, Jess, but…"

"No buts, Slim," Jess rose from the ground and began to pace, still clutching his six gun. "It's too soon. Maybe a week, ten days, a month from now, I don't know. But I know that I can't and won't talk about what happened until those filthy swine have breathed their last!"

Slim knew how Jess felt and fully understood it, but he also knew that Jess was the type to let a wound fester deep. This was the kind of wound that if it festered to the point of an all out infection of his heart and soul, there'd be no cure. Slim didn't want that for Jess, or for himself, but at the moment, there was nothing inside but pain. How far the sorrow would remain in control was yet to be seen.

"I'm saddling up," Jess announced a moment later. "There's no point waiting 'til dawn."

"I guess the horses have rested enough," Slim grabbed his saddle and followed Jess. "But, Jess…"

"Didn't you hear me say, no buts, Slim?"

"I was only going to add," Slim touched Jess on the arm to pause his work while he saddled, "this heartache is ours to share, not just yours alone."

They rode in silence for a few miles, the hour so early that there was just a sliver of color on the eastern horizon. Slim watched Jess ride with a rigid form, carrying a great determination to find the ones that killed their loved ones and make sure they paid heavily for it. Slim bore the same burden, but he was beginning to feel added concern that Jess might not stop to think before he pulled the trigger if they did find them somewhere out on the trail.

"You smell that smoke, Slim?" Jess pulled his horse to a stop and waited for Slim to come up beside him.

"Yeah," Slim pointed off the trail to the north. "Coming from just over the rise."

"What do you wanna bet it's our stagecoach killers?"

"We don't know that," Slim replied quickly. "Anyone could be out here."

"But we've been riding miles off the main roads up in the hills. No one else should be out here but someone who's hiding. And if my itching trigger finger is correct, it's them all right."

As they got closer to the wispy smoke plume, Slim and Jess secured their horses and started to walk into the camp. Jess was leading at first, but Slim's long legs stretched in front of Jess before he got too close.

"Hold up a bit," Slim whispered.

"What for?" Jess' reply came with a firmness that wasn't anywhere near quiet, making one of the men around the fire start to stir.

"You say somethin', Ron?"

"No," the reply was followed with a yawn. "Go back to sleep, Lou."

"I'll put another log on the fire then try to get some more shut eye," the man named Lou reached over to a small pile of kindling and added it to the flame. As he did so, Slim and Jess got a full view of Lou's face as the flames leapt up to grab the added piece of wood and completely lit the man's features up.

"You need any more proof?" Jess said at his lowest pitch. "That's Lou Hollister. I've seen his face in Mort's office a dozen times."

"And his brother, Ron," Slim nodded as he grabbed Jess by the arm to hold him back, afraid his friend was about to jump the man right there.

"They're obviously the ones," even though Jess' voice was barely a whisper, he still barked his words. "What're you holding me down for?"

"Wait for him to bed back down. Catch him off guard."

It wasn't a long wait. The instant Lou Hollister's back was on his bedroll, Jess was moving with Slim right beside him. The surprised men jumped to their feet, but neither hand went to their weapons. They stared at two angry men pointing two pistols in their faces.

"Go ahead and try for your guns," Jess taunted. "Make it look better while I blow your heads off."

"I'm not that stupid," Ron dropped his gun on the ground and then raised his hands high. "I don't want to get shot."

"After what you did, you're gonna head to the gallows anyway," Jess snapped each of his words sharply. "Why not just let it end now?"

"What are you talking about?" Lou asked as he tossed his iron aside then turned to look at his brother. "We haven't done anything, at least not recently."

"You liar!" Jess raged. "I should just pull this trigger right now!"

"Hold on, mister," Lou tried to keep his voice calm, but the scene this gun toting wild man made was making him quiver, something that in his circle of friends he'd never admit. "We can talk this out, can't we?"

"I'm through talking!" Jess thrust his gun into its holster and jumped on Lou. Slim followed and leapt onto Ron.

The fists began to fly in all directions with the definitive sound of knuckles cracking across their facial targets with every jab. With anguished fury fueling both men, the battle belonged to Slim and Jess. Slim sent Ron flying over a log at the same time that Jess had Lou crashing into a large boulder. Ron wasn't down long when he grabbed for Slim, putting two stout slaps across Slim's jaw. Jess had his hands on Lou to throw him over his shoulder but lost his balance as Ron was rammed into his back by a blow from Slim.

Jess received a mighty punch on his left eye and stumbled backwards, his foot catching one of the rocks that surrounded the campfire. He felt the heat as the flames started to lick his pants, but with a quick roll of his hips he was on the cool dirt ground. Slim had just fallen flat on his backside and with a quick glance at each other they nodded in agreement. It was time to switch dancing partners.

Slim was on his feet quicker than Jess, and his hands grabbed the loose shirt of Lou. He spun him around and popped Lou's jaw with a forceful enough blow to make the man pause and shake his head. Jess anticipated Ron's charge and stuck his leg out to trip him and then with both on the ground, they rolled each other over twice before Ron made it to his feet, kicking Jess repeatedly in the ribs. Jess groaned and looked for Slim, he'd been better off before with Lou. Grabbing Ron's foot before the next kick, Jess pushed with all his might, giving Ron a hard landing on his back.

Lou's fist was in Slim's face and Jess grabbed him by the back of his shirt, turned to Slim and said stoutly, "You can have the other one back."

Slim shrugged and went for Ron, but the Hollister brothers were just about to the end of their limits. With one more punch in each face, Ron and Lou dropped to the ground side by side with a significant moan.

Jess pulled his gun slowly out of its holster. He had a stream of blood pouring out of his eyebrow making him squint his left eye, but it wasn't enough to stop him from seeing the murdering Hollister brothers clearly enough to know where to put the bullets.

"Stop, Jess," Slim breathed heavily.

"I thought you wanted these lowlifes buried just as badly as I do," Jess glared at Slim beside him, but kept his gun in perfect aim.

"I do, believe me," Slim rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. "I just keep hearing Daisy's voice in my head saying, 'Slim Sherman, you'll do no such thing'."

"Yeah," Jess swallowed the tightness in his throat. "I keep hearing the same thing. But then I see Mike's face, and I want to put a bullet where no doc can take it out!"

"Jess," Slim took a step closer, not sure if he could take the gun from Jess' hand if need be. "Remember what I said earlier about this isn't just your pain, but ours?"

Jess nodded as their eyes met. Both men had experienced gut-wrenching grief before in their lives. When their hearts had bled before, it had been more of an all by myself suffering, but now, as both blue eyes looked deep inside each other, they saw the togetherness they needed.

"We can't kill them," Slim shook his head. "At least, I can't anyway. Pard? Can You?"

"It's easy to make them eat dirt," Jess placed his gun back where it belonged. "But when it comes down to pulling the trigger, I want to, but I can't."

"You two certainly don't act like regular bounty hunters," Lou sat up, rubbing the blood from his mouth while looking back and forth between Slim and Jess. "Is this your first hunt?"

"We're not bounty hunters," Slim told him.

"Well whatever you are," Lou began then spit some blood from his mouth before continuing, "you sure do know how to give a good walloping."

"Yeah," Ron groaned as he tried to stand, then decided against it and sat down on a log. "I haven't been throttled like that in a long time."

Slim's eyes turned away from Ron to see that Jess had walked away from the men and was now leaning against a tree, his hand pressed tightly above his eye with his handkerchief. "Looks like you could say the same, Pard."

Jess pulled the cloth away to reveal an inch-long gash through his eyebrow and onto the eyelid that had swollen from his forehead, temple and down below his eye. He'd been able to keep his eye barely open before, but it was the newly risen sunlight that now forced Jess to keep it closed. Blood had begun to harden behind his right ear and the bruise on his jaw was turning darker than the hat he wore.

"You should see yourself," Jess poked Slim's puffy cheek with his finger making Slim grimace.

Slim rubbed his hand over his reddened face, feeling the increased size of his cheek. He tasted blood on his lip where it had split and could feel the thick moisture on top of his head and the lump that probably went with it. The place that stung the most however, was a place where no one would see. Slim's saddle wasn't going to feel comfortable any time soon.

"Since you ain't after our bounty, and you ain't going to kill us, what exactly are you going to do with us?" Lou asked.

"We'll hand you over to the sheriff in Cheyenne," Slim answered as he looked to Jess for approval. He watched Jess struggle with his emotions for a moment before he slightly nodded. These two in front of them were heartless killers, but both Slim and Jess knew that was a title they themselves could never own.

Slim and Jess gagged both Hollister's and tied their hands in front of them after they topped their horses. They were still an hour from Cheyenne and neither man wanted to listen to the outlaws chatter as they traveled. Coming into Cheyenne, Slim and Jess leading bound and gagged Ron and Lou Hollister created a stir among the citizens. The talk began to spread as the faces were recognized and soon the Cheyenne sheriff and his deputy stepped out of their office to see the commotion.

"Slim, Jess," Sheriff Johnson acknowledged the pair. "You two change professions? Bounty money does pay more than the stage office."

"What do you mean?" Slim frowned, annoyed that he'd been thought a bounty hunter already twice that morning. "These are the Hollister's."

"I know it's the Hollister's," Johnson raised an eyebrow. "But what are you two doing with them?"

"Why shouldn't we have them?" Jess snapped his question . "They're lucky to be alive after what they did to that stage yesterday."

"What they did…" Sheriff Johnson pointed up at the Hollister's then gaped at Slim and Jess a moment. "Boys, who told you that it was the Hollister brothers?"

"Well, no one, but they're guilty, aren't they?" Slim asked as he watched Sheriff Johnson rub his hand over his jaw, taking on an exasperated look.

"Yes, they are guilty of robbery and escape from prison," Johnson turned and pulled the wanted poster hanging outside of his office from the wall. "As for yesterdays stage accident, no. Boys, I think we need to talk, but not in front of the gawking town. Deputy, put the Hollister's in jail. Slim and Jess, inside."

"What's going on, Sheriff?" It was Slim who asked the question that was on each mind.

"Jerry, the shot gun rider on yesterday's stage lived long enough to tell a passerby that it was Carl Greer and Willoughby Phelps that attacked the stage. Jerry knew their faces from another time they hit a stage down in the Denver area." Sheriff Johnson sifted through the wanted posters in front of him and when he came upon the two for Greer and Phelps he slid them across the desk for Slim and Jess to see. "They've been eluding us lawmen for about six months. I'd sure like to get my hands on them. But right now I want to know how you came across the Hollister's. By the looks of you, they weren't taken in easily."

"Well," Slim looked over at Jess, not sure where to begin. "When we heard about the stage wreck, we went looking for the ones who did it. I guess we stumbled along the wrong duo, but knowing their record, we just figured it was them."

"I suppose I should be glad that at least one pair of outlaws is behind bars," Sheriff Johnson leaned back in his chair. "But what I can't figure out is why you two went after them in the first place."

"For Daisy and Mike!" Jess shouted with his fist coming down hard on the arm rest of the chair he was in. He couldn't help but wonder how the Sheriff could be so daft to not know their reasoning.

"Oh, they're over at the hotel," Sheriff Johnson casually answered, not sure how they fit into the picture. "From what I understand they'll be heading home today."

"Sheriff," Slim slowly rose from his chair. "What did you just say?"

"About what?" Johnson raised an eyebrow.

"Daisy and Mike being over at the hotel," Slim's voice was slow and almost shaking.

"Yeah, what about it?"

Slim and Jess didn't answer, they were on their feet and out the door of the sheriff's office before Sheriff Johnson could say another word. They had only made it up the sidewalk thirty feet when Daisy stepped out the hotel's entrance with Mike by her side.

"Slim!" Jess stopped abruptly making Slim run right into him. "Am I seeing things?"

"No, Pard," Slim's voice started to crack in Jess' ear. "And I've never seen anything so wonderful in my life!"

"But Mose said, and the telegraph," Jess shook his head while rubbing his uninjured eye to make certain it was seeing clearly. "I don't understand."

"Well neither do I," Slim couldn't stop smiling, even though it made his cut lip hurt. "But I know what I see, and they're all right!"

"I feel like whooping at the top of my lungs," Jess grinned.

"Wait a moment, Jess," Slim held Jess back from moving forward.

"What for?"

"I don't want to upset Daisy and Mike with the details of, well, you know," Slim tried to explain.

"Of how we wanted to kill those two Hollister's, you mean?"

"Yeah, and just everything about how we felt thinking they'd been killed," Slim continued. "After we get home and maybe when Mike's out horsing around we can tell Daisy, but I think its best that you and I keep this to ourselves for a while."

"Whatever you say, Pard," Jess pulled his arm out of Slim's grasp. "But you can't stop me from running over there and squeezing the socks off Mike or making Daisy's hairpins pop off her head!"

"Right," Slim patted Jess on the back. "Let's go!"

"Look Aunt Daisy," Mike pointed as Slim and Jess approached, "there's Slim and Jess!"

"Oh my goodness!" Daisy exclaimed as Slim enveloped her in a huge embrace. Jess picked Mike up and tossed him into the air and as he caught the boy, he snuggled him into his chest. When Slim took his arms from Daisy, he pulled Mike away from Jess and swung him over his shoulder while Jess gave Daisy her share of his happiness.

"How come you're here?" Mike asked when Slim finally put him back on the ground.

"We missed you so much we decided to come fetch you home," Slim winked at Jess.

"Not that I'm complaining," Daisy patted her hair to make sure it was still in place after Jess and Slim's tight hugging, "but I told you in my telegraph we'd be coming home today."

"Telegraph?" Jess asked looking at Slim.

"Yes," Daisy nodded. "I sent a telegraph telling you that Mike wasn't feeling well and that we'd be home on today's stage."

"I was sick yesterday," Mike said, "and I'm glad I was, or we'd been on the stage that was wrecked."

"That was just so awful," Daisy sighed. "That poor widow woman and her little boy killed, too. Someone needs to put those awful men that did that in jail for good."

"I'm sure they will, Daisy," Slim answered, though sorry for the ones that were lost in the accident, he swelled again with relief that Daisy and Mike weren't the woman and boy that the original telegraph had stated.

"Slim, Jess," Daisy reached up to touch Slim's swollen cheek. "You both look like you ran into a wall. What happened?"

"Oh, nothing much, Daisy," Jess replied skirting around the truth. "We ran into a couple of hard cases on the way here. They're over in the jail now."

"As long as you're all right," Daisy smiled.

"I was just thinking the same thing," Jess put his arm around Daisy again. "When's the stage coming?"

"Nine," Daisy answered. "Are you going to ride in the coach with us?"

"No, I don't think so, Daisy," Slim looked back towards the sheriff's office where their horses were still tied. "We've got our horses, so we'll probably just trail along behind."

"Kinda like special escorts or somethin', huh Slim?" Mike smiled as Slim pulled him close again.

"Just like that, Tiger," Slim rumpled the boy's hair while thinking that Mike might not be too far off on his assumption. They weren't about to leave Daisy and Mike unguarded on the trip home. Thinking they'd lost them once was bad enough, but they didn't want to ever go through that fear again if for some reason today's stage had even a minor problem like a broken wheel or a lame horse.

"We better go get our horses watered up and ready for the trip home, Slim," Jess suggested and after Slim agreed they were standing alone with their mounts at the water trough, both deep in their thoughts of gratitude that their grieving hearts were made whole again.

"Slim," Jess began as they walked to the stage depot with their horses as Daisy and Mike were boarding. "Thanks for being the levelheaded one, as always, and not letting me kill the Hollister's. I needed your wisdom to seep into my hard head."

"Yeah, and you call me Hard Rock," Slim tapped Jess' hat with his hand then shrugged, being more serious. "There's no need to thank me, Pard. To be honest, I'm not sure I could've held myself back if we'd ran into them sooner. The more we rode the more I heard Daisy in my head."

"Yeah," Jess nodded. "Right now, though, I just hope those two, what were their names again?"

"Carl Greer and Willoughby Phelps."

"Right," Jess started again. "That those two get what's coming to them for what they did."

xxx

"Hey, Carl," Willoughby nudged his partner. "Look at the stage down there. It's got two guards after it. Must be something real valuable on that coach."

"Could be," Carl answered, looking at the rolling stagecoach on the road down below their perch. "But we just hit the Cheyenne stage yesterday. Those two could be deputies trying to catch us."

"Yeah, they could be badges, all right," Willoughby rubbed his chin in thought. "Let's head up the road a piece to get a closer look anyhow."

"I'm with you, Will."

"I don't see any tin stars," Willoughby stretched far to the right in his saddle to get a closer look at the two riders following the stage a few minutes later. "They've got to be guards of some kind. Probably a hefty sum in the strongbox."

"Well you thought it was going to be fully loaded yesterday too, remember," Carl said wryly. "We got a total of ninety-seven dollars off the whole lot and killed everyone in the process."

"I couldn't help being mistaken about the man not being that rich dude we'd heard about," Willoughby shrugged. "And as for the killing, when I shot the driver and the stage rolled over down that slope, well, it was just an unfortunate circumstance that they all didn't make it."

"Shall we do it, then?" Carl asked looking for his partner's approval.

"If we do," Willoughby grabbed his rifle. "We've got to do it right. A couple of miles up the path there's that perfect stretch of road. We can be up on the rocks and fire on the guards. They'll never know what hit them."

xxx

The stagecoach rattled and rolled along the dusty road with Slim and Jess following close behind. Slim pulled his red neckerchief tighter to his nose to try to block out the dust that kept tickling his nose and irritating his battered lip. He watched Jess maneuver his horse slightly out of the dust plume more along the side of the coach and figured on doing the same, but as he tugged the reigns to border the left side of the road, he clearly saw a rifle lift up over a rock.

"Jess! Watch out!" Slim's warning made Jess pull up on his reigns so the bullet that flew in his direction missed the target, only tearing a slight hole in Jess' sleeve. But the second knocked Slim from his horse so fast Jess couldn't even see where his partner landed.

"Slim!" He called but knew he couldn't retreat as the stagecoach driver started the horses at a frightening speed. Jess rode close beside the stage and hollered to Daisy. "Get down low, Daisy! Mike get on the floor!"

One more bullet whizzed past Jess and bounced off the stagecoach door while another made the shotgun driver fall from his seat. Jess fired some shots in the direction where the attack was coming from, but couldn't see the men so he knew he probably wasn't hitting flesh. The horses were slowing and Jess leaned in his saddle to see if the driver had also been hit, but what met his view were two men standing in the middle of the road, rifles pointed right at their heads.

"Stay down low," Jess whispered inside the coach window as he held up his hands. He recognized the faces immediately. The two outlaws he now faced were Carl Greer and Willoughby Phelps.

"Get down," Carl commanded the driver. The man started to climb down from his seat, but when his shaking hands made him start to stumble, he reached to steady himself and touched his gun instead, making Carl put a deadly bullet in his chest.

"You didn't have to do that!" Jess said furiously as he jumped from his horse and charged at Carl. "He wasn't gonna do anything!"

"No?" Willoughby came up behind Jess with his rifle turned around and thwacked the butt over Jess' head. "But I'm gonna do plenty."

Daisy heard the sickening thump and raised her head high enough to see Jess fall to the ground. She gasped, drawing the attention of Willoughby. She watched the man poke Jess with his rifle to make sure he was out cold then turned to her.

"Just stay in the coach, Lady, and you won't get hurt," Willoughby briefly waved his rifle in Daisy's direction.

Daisy knew that she couldn't do as she was told. She knew Jess was hurt and although she knew she should protect Mike, her fear for what the outlaws would do to Jess made the decision that she'd exit the safety of the coach.

"I am going to give you an order Mike and I expect you to obey it." Daisy took Mike's chin in her hand and looked into his fearful eyes. "Get under the seat as best as you can, use my shawl to cover you. This is important! No matter what happens, you stay in this coach!"

"I will, Aunt Daisy."

She nodded and stepped from the stagecoach, immediately clutching her hands to her chest when she saw Jess lying unconscious on the ground. He'd had a wound from the earlier fight already behind his right ear, but now the blood was flowing freely down his neck and onto the ground. She couldn't see Slim anywhere and feared the worst. She had counted four or five rifle shots before the coach had stopped and one might have pierced into Slim.

"Better put an end to him," Carl gave the command to Willoughby who walked to Jess with his gun in hand. "I'll go check on the other one."

"No!" Daisy shouted, running the few feet between where she'd stood and where Jess lay. "You can't kill him!"

"Why not, Lady?" Willoughby shrugged his shoulders. "It's no different than an injured animal. Just gonna put him out of his misery."

"I won't let you!" Daisy lowered her body to protectively cover Jess. If the man was going to kill Jess, he'd have to put a bullet in her, too.

"You're acting like a mother hen," Willoughby scowled.

Good, Daisy thought, for that's how she felt. She closed her eyes and saw her son's face clearly in her mind. He'd been so tender, too young to be fighting, but of course all mothers that sent their sons off to war had thought so. She remembered how she cried when he left her sight that last time, because somehow in her heart she knew he'd never make it home. When the news came that he'd died, her heart had broken, in a way, even more than when she'd lost her husband. Daisy was left alone. But being alone would not last forever, for little did she know when she finally fulfilled their family dream to come west, she'd find three more boys to love like they were her own. Flesh and blood they might not be, but love bound them together as if she'd birthed them herself. She wasn't about to let anyone kill another one of her sons!

Her eyes returned to the man in front of her. He was staring at her intently. He wouldn't know how she felt, probably wouldn't care, but Daisy was a mother, ready to fight to save a life, just as if she had been out there on the battlefront with her son in the war.

"I don't care if you don't understand what I'm going to tell you, but I'll say it anyway. I lost my son in the war. He was a heroic, attractive young man, full of life and love. This man I'm protecting, and the one I truly hope is all right back there, are just like my son, brave and strong, yet they are even more so now because they are alive, while my own boy is dead. I have no one left but these boys. While there was nothing I could do to protect my son from the fighting of the war, I can sure protect this son of mine now."

"And how do you suppose you being a feeble female is going to protect him from my firing bullets?"

"You'd be surprised at the strength of a mother hen, or so you blatantly put it," Daisy kept her voice clear and calm. "I might not have a weapon like a gun or a knife, but I have strength coursing through my veins that an outlaw like you could never muster! It's a strength all women possess. Would you come up against a mother bear if you hurt her cub? Would you dare face a mountain lion after you'd attacked her brood? I think not, so you better think long and hard before you pull that trigger!"

"Lady…"

"Hey, Will," Carl's voice called from the brush. "I can't find any sign of that other rider!"

Willoughby took his eyes off Daisy and started scanning the ground in front of him, then hollered back to his partner. "Maybe he's not dead! Keep looking!"

Daisy closed her eyes, hoping with her whole being that Slim wasn't hurt bad after all. She pictured her son again, in appearance he was more like Slim than Jess, with his fair-hair and lighter features, but she saw the blonde hair that she'd stroked that final time before they closed the casket and shuddered. Not another one to bury, please.

"I left daisies on your grave," Daisy's voice carried past the waiting outlaw in front of her with her eyes staring up into the cloud dotted heavens. The grave had been so final, but leaving the flowers had been the ultimate end. She couldn't bear to do it again. "Slim, don't make me leave more daisies!"

Jess began to groan beside her. He had heard Daisy speak and the anguish in her voice was enough for him to push through the fog of oblivion. His head was throbbing with such intensity that he couldn't lift it, but he felt Daisy so near that he instinctively knew he needed to protect her. But his body wouldn't obey his commands and then Daisy's hands came down on his back keeping him still.

"He's coming to, Lady," Willoughby waved the gun in her face. "I have to end his life."

"You'll have to shoot me first!" Daisy yelled then reached for the man's gun. She was faster than he'd expected and the surprised expression on his face would have sent most people into hysterics if there'd been anyone around to witness it.

Daisy clung to the pistol with her right hand and dug her fingernails into the man's arm with her left. He screeched and said a word that wouldn't be repeated in future storytelling. The gun handle slipped from Willoughby's hand and dropped to the ground as Daisy's foot stamped firmly on top of it.

"Lady, you're going to get it!" Willoughby raised his hand to strike Daisy but the sound of a cocking gun froze his hand mid air.

"Don't try it!" Jess was wobbling on his feet, but his gun hand wouldn't waver as it held its aim at Willoughby. "Get his gun, Daisy, and come stand by me."

Daisy obeyed and stood beside Jess. "The other one's looking for Slim. You don't suppose he…" Daisy couldn't finish the thought.

"Call your partner over here," Jess commanded Willoughby but when he took too long in hesitation, Jess said more sharply, "do it!"

"Carl!" Willoughby shouted. "Come here!"

"What, Will?" Carl's voice was approaching. "I'm still looking for the other guard. Did you get the strongbox open yet?"

"No, he didn't," Jess answered the outlaw, making him stop in his tracks as he saw Jess holding his gun on Willoughby. "Put your gun in the dirt. Use your left hand!"

Carl grudgingly obeyed and slowly took his gun from its holster and dropped his gun. He felt more anger rise in his chest at his partner than the dark haired man that was growling at him. Willoughby must have taken too long to pull the trigger on him earlier; otherwise they'd be in the clear.

"Daisy," Jess sighed deeply as he swayed. "Go get the rope off my saddle. I've gotta get these two no goods tied up before I fall over."

Daisy ran to his horse and pulled the rope from its place. She helped Jess tie the knots securing the outlaws to the wheels of the stagecoach. With a firm hand she took the men's kerchiefs that were sticking out of their pockets and stuffed them into their mouths.

"Where's Slim?" Jess asked as he leaned wearily against the stagecoach.

Daisy tore part of her petticoat and folded it instantly pressing it on Jess' pulsating wound. "I don't know. I'm so afraid."

"I'll go look for him," Jess took a step but dropped to the ground. Daisy reached inside the coach, assured that Mike was safe and pulled her shawl off of the hidden boy. She wadded the shawl and placed it under Jess' head.

"You rest," Daisy pointed to the two tied men. "They're not going anywhere. I'll go look for Slim."

"I won't argue, Daisy," Jess blinked his eyes quickly, trying to keep himself awake. Even though he knew how well they'd tied the outlaws, he'd feel better if his eyes were open and his gun was still firmly attached to his hand.

Daisy hurried to where Slim's horse stood waiting. The ground was steep on the side of the road with brambly bushes and thick sagebrush sticking up everywhere. She clutched her hands together rubbing them in a worried fashion. How would she find Slim? Even that one named Carl couldn't find him.

"Slim!" Daisy called frantically. "Where are you, Slim?"

Daisy lifted her skirts to help her feet find a steady path and she climbed down the angled ground. She knew Jess would be all right, and her precious Mike was safe, but with every step she became more afraid for Slim. What if she found him dead? What if his lifeless head she'd stroke just like her son? What if she would spend the rest of her life picking daisies to leave on his grave? What if…?

The next anxious thought wasn't finished, for sticking out of a patch of tall grass and chokecherry was a boot and it was moving. "Slim!" Daisy hurried to his side as he tried to roll over. Her nurse's eyes quickly spotted the shoulder wound where the blood had spread through his shirt in a wide circle.

"Daisy," Slim groaned, feeling gentle hands helping him up then examining his shoulder. "Is Jess all right?"

"Yes," Daisy smiled in great relief as she touched the bullet holes. An entry and an exit meant that the bullet wasn't still inside. "With a little mending, we all will be all right. Can you walk?"

"I think so," Slim took a few unsteady steps. "With some help, of course."

"I was so afraid," Daisy cried lightly as she guided Slim back up to the road and back on level ground he was able to take the steps more on his own. "I thought I was going to lose you and Jess!"

"It's all right, Daisy," Slim reassured, patting her hand. How well he knew that thought, since he and Jess had just gone through those exact same fears thinking they'd lost Daisy and Mike.

"Good to see you in one piece, Pard," Jess sat up dizzily and watched Slim approach the outlaws.

"You two aren't the smartest lawbreakers in the world, are you?" Slim stood still with his eyes on Carl and Willoughby as Daisy worked quickly on his shoulder to get the bleeding stopped. "You seriously thought you could stop a stage with two men following it? And for what, the couple of dollars in my pocket?"

The responses were only muffled for they couldn't make any words with the dirty rags in their mouths. Carl and Willoughby turned their faces towards each other as the realization hit that they'd made another mistake on the stage carrying a payroll. They'd been fortunate to not have been caught the previous day, but now they were in no position of escape. Willoughby tasted an extra bitterness in his mouth that wasn't coming from his soiled gag as he knew they were bound on a fast road to jail, and all because of a willful woman.

"Someone's coming, Slim," Jess pulled himself to his feet to stand next to Slim. Three or four riders were coming at a high rate of speed from the east.

"It's Sheriff Johnson and some deputy's," Slim said as the riders came into view.

"Is everyone all right?" Sheriff Johnson hurried to Slim and Jess. "A kid out fishing heard several gunshots and rushed to town. I instantly thought of the stage again."

"They tried all right," Jess pointed at Carl and Willoughby. "But they didn't succeed this time."

"Looks like you two really are trying to change professions," Sheriff Johnson teased as he stood in front of the two outlaws. "Four wanted men in one day. You'll be the most feared ranchers in the territory."

"Exceptin' it wasn't just Jess and Slim this time," Mike hurried to stand by the sheriff to explain and pointed at Willoughby. "Aunt Daisy caught that one! I peeked, even though I wasn't s'posed to."

"Is that so?" The sheriff turned to look at Daisy. "And here I thought you were just a gentle little lady who cooks a terrific pie."

"Oh, Sheriff Johnson," Daisy blushed. "I'm more than that."

"Much more," Slim wrapped his uninjured arm around Daisy.

"My deputies will get those two off to jail," Sheriff Johnson said then pointed at Slim and Jess. "But you both look like you need to see a doctor. I'll get this stage turned around and back to Cheyenne in no time."

"Aw, man," Mike complained. "If we go back to his stuffy office, he'll probably wanna poke me and look down my throat again."

"Not this time, Mike," Daisy opened the stage door for her three boys to enter. "He'll just be poking around on Slim and Jess."

xxx

Coming home was a welcoming feeling for everyone on the stage as it rounded that final corner before descending to the front door of the Sherman house. Mike sat next to Daisy while Slim lounged as best as his aching shoulder could allow on the opposite seat. Jess, claiming he wasn't bothered anymore by his head wound, rode his faithful mount while leading Slim's horse on the homeward road instead of what he'd said about the stage. "It's like riding on a mean spirited horse from morn 'til dark, but don't tell the stage line boss I said so."

"Oh look, Slim," Daisy pointed out the window on the hill behind the house. "The daisies are starting to bloom."

"They sure are," Slim looked from the daisies to the graves as they passed by fully remembering his anguished thoughts two days earlier. He'd be taking a walk to visit them soon after the stage would stop. The flowers needed freshening, but also because he needed to see the ground still solid, with no new gravestones being added.

xxx

"You always remember, don't you Slim?" Daisy had quietly walked up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder as he remained knelt at the graves. She'd seen him gathering flowers and knew where he was headed and she wanted to be there with him.

"I try to, Daisy," Slim answered rearranging the flowers once more on his Ma's grave.

"You came awfully close to being added here, you know," Daisy shuddered.

"Yeah," Slim winced as he shifted his shoulder in its sling. "I can't help but wonder though, if anyone would put flowers on mine if my name were carved on a stone here."

"I would," Daisy assured as she helped Slim to stand. "If I were still back east, I'd be taking daisies to my son's grave as often as I could. I'm not there anymore, but if…" her voice trailed off as she fought to gain control.

"You all right, Daisy?" Slim lifted Daisy's chin to look into her teary eyes. She didn't always choke up like this and it alarmed him.

"Yes," Daisy patted Slim's good arm. "I was going to say although I'm not able to tend my son's grave, that if, God forbid, either you or Jess were placed in one before my time comes, you can best be sure I'd dutifully say as often as possible to you, and to your mother and father, that I left daisies on your grave."

"Well I did pick some daisies earlier," Slim turned away from the graves and began to walk Daisy back to the house.

"You did?" Daisy asked. "What for?"

"I decided instead of putting all the flowers on the graves, I'd place some on the dinner table instead."

"Oh, that's nice, Slim," Daisy beamed. "Thank you. They'll add such a special touch to dinner."

"I thought so," Slim agreed then paused in front of the corral. "What in the world?"

"Look at me Slim!" Mike shouted as he waved his hat while riding on Jess' back. "I'm breakin' a wild stallion!"

"Slim!" Jess hollered. "I can't see! He's got my hat down over my eyes! Help, Slim!"

"Dinner will be ready soon, boys," Daisy laughed as she walked into the house. "Don't get too dirty."

"Slim! Are you just gonna stand there laughing at me like a mangy hyena or are you gonna help?" Jess said with feigned exasperation.

"All right, Mike," Slim pulled the wriggling boy off of Jess. "Get washed up for dinner."

"Quit your laughing," Jess threatened to punch Slim in his wounded shoulder.

"I quit, but you know what Jess?" Slim asked as he watched the playful Mike race into the house.

"Huh?"

"It sure is nice to have things back to normal," Slim turned to Jess speaking in a low, serious tone. "We sure wouldn't be laughing right now if things had turned out differently."

"You're right there, Pard," Jess put his arm around Slim and started to walk back to the house. "But if things are truly gonna be back to normal, you've gotta start doing some work around here."

"I can't work with my arm in a sling," Slim protested.

"True," Jess nodded, the teasing grin curling up his face. "Come to think of it, you didn't do much work before Daisy patched you up, either!"

"Hey!" Slim reached for Jess as he had ran ahead into the house. Slim ran after him and caught him by the table, making the dishes rattle as the bodies playfully squabbled.

"Be careful!" Daisy couldn't help smiling as she reprimanded her grown boys. "You almost knocked over the daisies!"

"Sorry Daisy," Slim and Jess apologized in unison.

"It's all right," Daisy reassured as she straightened the daisy stems. "Sit down to eat before the chicken gets cold."

The four sat around a table full of food and before a bite was even consumed, their thoughts each turned for a moment of gratitude. This first meal together since their return from Cheyenne held great significance, for there could have been an empty chair, maybe even two leaving a gaping hole in the house and in the heart. But Slim, Jess, Daisy and Mike were all there, smiling and lovingly joined together as a family. And in the center of it all, a display so pure and simple, a bouquet of white, a bouquet of life, stood symbolically on the table.

THE END