Jess Harper's dark blue eyes slowly fluttered open. Dizzy, sick and confused he looked around him. No, he said to himself, I ain't dreamin'. The train is gone. I'm somewhere between San Francisco and Laramie but I can't tell where. Leastways not while it's dark.
He struggled to his feet, oblivious to the gash on his right temple, caused by the tree branch that had hit him on the way down the embankment, and the cut on his left cheek. There wasn't much light from the moon and there weren't many stars and in his confused state he wasn't sure if it was just a dark night or if it was getting on toward morning.
At first he was confused - unable to remember what had happened. Then, after a few minutes reflection he remembered the "grieving widow" - Celie Rawlins. And for a recent widow she seemed to be awfully cozy with the new sheriff they'd sent for. It was apparent to the injured man that Celie wanted to destroy the homesteaders just as her husband had. She had help - those so-called lawmen led by Sam Willard.
"Slim. Gotta warn Slim," he mumbled to himself. "Wish he was here though. Laramie's a long walk."
Staggering, stumbling and stopping occasionally when the dizziness threatened to overwhelm him, Jess started walking. By the time he had managed to walk a couple of miles, the sun was starting to rise. He figured it was probably about six.
He walked, rested, walked and rested. When dizziness didn't threaten to make him fall his sore right leg did. Only the abundance of brush and small trees kept him from falling on his face.
After a few hours he stumbled across a path that led to a small homestead where he could see a corral with several horses. There was a woman hanging laundry out to dry. As he watched the woman finished her chore and went into the house never seeing the injured man coming down the road.
Clinging to a tree branch, Jess put his hand on his sore leg then limped over to the corral. He rested his aching head on the top rail for a few seconds, thinking of his friend who was waiting for word that the law was on the way.
"Gotta warn Slim. Celie Rawlins ain't no grievin' widow. Willard works for her. Gonna get rid of the sodbusters. She's worse'n her husband was." He sighed heavily and moved away from the corral over to the house. He tried to make himself somewhat presentable before heaving himself up the step by grabbing hold of the post that held up the roof over the porch.
His knock was answered by a woman somewhat older than himself wearing a dark blue skirt and blouse covered by an apron. She held a shotgun in her hands.
"You don't need that gun, ma'am," Jess told her. "I mean no harm."
"Who are you?" the woman asked, not lowering her weapon.
"My name's Harper. Jess Harper." He gave her an imitation of his most charming smile. His head was pounding and he was still fighting the vertigo caused by the blow to his head the previous night. "I had a little - accident. I was wondering if I could borrow one of your horses. I need..." a dizzy spell hit just then making him sway.
"Mr. Harper are you all right? Maybe you should sit down?"
"No time for sittin'," he said as the dizziness passed. "I need a horse bad. I gotta get home to Laramie - before it's too late."
"Well, my husband has our saddle horse. All that's left is the team you saw out there in the corral."
"I can manage," Jess told her.
Still she hesitated.
"I'll pay you! How much?"
Jess was desperate. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious after being thrown from the train. Nor did he know how long he'd walked before stumbling across this little farm. All he knew was that he had to get home to the ranch and warn Slim about the trouble heading their way. If he didn't get on his way soon, there was a distinct possibility - given his less than perfect physical condition at the moment - that horse or no horse, he might not make it in time.
He dug around in his pockets and found he still had some cash left over from the trip to San Francisco. He gave her a twenty dollar bill.
"That'll pay for the use of the horse," the woman told him, "but we don't have any extra bridles for saddle horses."
"It don't matter. I can make some reins if you have some rope handy."
"All right," she finally relented. "Take the black. He's pretty easy to manage."
"Thank you," Jess tarted out the door.
In the small barn he found some rope. He cut enough off of the coil to form some makeshift reins and went to the corral to get the horse he just rented. He was dismayed, however, to find that his head injury, and sore knee, had left him too weak and dizzy to mount the horse with any of his usual ease and grace. Reluctantly, he led the horse over to the fence and made his way, painfully to the top rail and onto the horse's back. The woman opened the gate of the small corral . Jess rode out, turning the horse eastward toward Laramie.
Every step the horse took was agony to his aching head and he alternately swayed and slumped over the horse's neck. But at least each step took him closer to the ranch - and Slim.
At the Sherman Ranch, Jess' partner - and friend - Slim Sherman, was standing on the porch of his ranch house talking with Roy Allen, the unofficial leader of the homesteaders currently under fire from the ranchers in the area -all the ranchers except for Slim that was.
They were supposed to be meeting with the others and then with the new sheriff - one Sam Willard.
Slim was just telling Roy what he knew when they were distracted by a horse loping down the road into the yard. It was Jess and he was barely staying on the horse, swaying from side to side and half slumped over his mount's neck.
Slim and Roy wasted no time rushing into the yard. Slim reached out and stopped the horse, catching hold of Jess as he started to fall. Jess' knees buckled as his feet hit the ground. Slim and Roy Allen took hold of his arms and between them they supported Jess so he could walk to the house.
Once inside the two older men set Jess in a chair at the kitchen table. Slim got a basin, some hot water, clean cloths and a bottle of whiskey and proceeded to work on the younger man's injuries while getting Jess' story. Roy Allen stood by in case Slim needed any help.
"Jess? What happened?" Slim asked.
"I don't know for sure. I went to Celie Rawlins' compartment to talk to her. Willard was there." The younger man winced as Slim gently cleaned the gash caused by the tree branch that had slapped Jess as he had tumbled down the embankment after Willard and his associate threw him from the moving train.
"They're plotting something - probably a raid on the sodbusters. They stopped talking when I knocked and gave me some cock and bull story about why the men were getting off at the fuel stop ten miles from Laramie. OW!" he yelped as Slim applied a little whiskey to the gash as a disinfectant. "That hurts!"
"If it didn't hurt it wouldn't be working," the big man said calmly.
"Easy for you to say," Jess mumbled. "Anyway, when I went to go back to my seat I was jumped before I could even open the door. Something hit me on the head and I blacked out. Next thing I knew I woke up at the bottom of an embankment below the railroad tracks."
"That would explain the condition of your clothes," Slim said. "That gash on your head - any idea what could have caused it?"
Jess frowned as he tried to remember.
"No. I don't remember anything after I left Celie's compartment until I woke up on the ground and started walking."
The blond reached for a fair sized sticky plaster to put on Jess' head. As he applied it he turned to their new neighbor.
"You ride to town and tell the lawyer. I'll go out to your place and warn the people there."
"Right Slim," Roy said and headed for the door.
Washing, and drying, his hands when the bandage had been applied, Slim told his partner, "You stay here and take it easy 'til the doc can look you over."
"Now wait a minute! I didn't get my head beat in and ride all the way back here just to go to bed!" He started to stand. "I'm going with you."
His friend, partner and surrogate older brother looked at him in concern pausing in his clean up.
'You sure you can make it?"
"Just get me on a horse, I'll be all right."
Though he was not as certain about that as Jess was, Slim acquiesced and helped Jess along by holding his arm as they walked out the door.
By day's end Celie Rawlins, her two lovers and several of their men were dead or wounded. Not a single homesteader had been hurt much to the relief of Slim and Jess.
Jess' misery, however, was not over. Once he and Slim got home the stress of the day, combined with his injuries and the long walk and ride after being thrown from the train caught up with him. His already pale face went white and he passed out seconds after dismounting by the barn at the Sherman Ranch.
This time Slim did not give in toe Jess' "I'll be all right" and put him to bed. Within a week, thanks to his partner's good nursing and insistence that his partner rest. Jess was on his feet again, working hard and bedeviling his partner - just for the fun of it.