Scars

by Fern Shafer

Arrival of a stranger, out of a friend's past, draws Jess into danger.

55

Scars

By Fern Shafer

This is a sequel to The Lone Goose. A few references may be better understood if the reader is familiar with The Lone Goose; however, each story can stand alone. The author presumes the reader has a fair knowledge of the iconic Western – Laramie – which starred John Smith and Robert Fuller.

This tale is rated Teen due to violence, curse words, and a few sexual references. If any of these bother you, please read no further. As usual, thanks to J and S for their beta talents.

Chapter 1

As the noon stage from Cheyenne pulled up to the relay station, Slim Sherman stepped out of the house and down off the porch. Andy Sherman followed close on his heels.

"Andy, go get the relief team."

"Sure, Slim," Andy skipped over to the corral, happy to be of help to his older brother.

Slim opened the stagecoach door for the four passengers to alight. "There's coffee and fresh biscuits in the house for those who want them."

The one female passenger, a young, well-dressed lady with golden blonde hair piled high upon her head, gave Slim a dazzling smile after giving the good-looking, tall, ranch owner an appreciative once over. Immediately smitten and ignoring the other passengers, Slim offered her his arm and they strolled towards the house. Two of the men followed, but the fourth passenger, an Easterner from the cut of his clothes, looked about, then turned and went towards the corral.

Mose, the stagecoach driver, having just climbed down from his high perch, frowned seeing Slim entering the ranch house with the attractive lady on his arm. Dadburn it all. Gonna' haveta change them horses all by myself. Glancing over towards the corral, he saw Andy gathering up the replacement team. At least there's one on this dadburn ranch whose head don't swivel off his neck at the mere sight of any two-legged female. Mose's frown deepened a bit and he shook his head as he spied the Easterner. Don't like that fella much. Too durn nosey. Turning back to the job at hand, Mose began unharnessing the tired team.

By the time the teams were switched, the passengers had filed out of the house. Andy visited with the travelers briefly while Slim, reluctantly leaving his new female friend, took charge of the unhitched horses and walked them over to the corral. Mose followed, stopping to get a drink from the pump.

"Sure a sorry day when I gotta not only drive them durn broomtails but also change 'em out cause he that aughta be doin' it don't." Mose squinted up at Slim.

Pulled from his reverie and looking a bit sheepish, Slim responded, "Sorry, Mose. Don't know what got in to me."

"Well I sure do. And she's got purty blonde hair," he cackled.

Slim flushed, "You gotta admit, you do bring some nice passengers through."

"Some yes, some no."

"Huh?"

"That dude fella for example. Don't like him none 'tall."

"How come, Mose?" Slim took a quick look over towards the stage passengers, but the Easterner's back was towards them.

"Too durn nosey if you ask me. Was askin' all sorts a personal questions 'bout Jess and that lady horse doc. You know, the one that came through last winter."

Slim tried to get a better look at the man under discussion, but still failed. "So what did you tell him?"

"Nothin'. I ain't no gossip or blabbermouth."

Slim turned away to hide a smile. Yeah, sure you're not, Mose.

"Can't stand around palaverin' all day. Runnin' late as it tis." Mose ambled back to the stage, helped the last passenger inside, and climbed up.

"Oh, Andy. Almost forgot. Here's your mail." Mose threw a small bundle, tied with twine, down to Andy.

"Gee. Thanks, Mose. Been waitin' on this catalogue."

"Later, boy." Mose gave a quick wave to Andy before gathering up the reins and heading the coach towards Laramie.

"Andy, come help unharness and take care of the team."

"Aw, Slim, do I have to? I just got this catalogue."

Feeling a bit guilty since he had not helped change the teams, and knowing Andy had, Slim smiled and relented, "Alright, this time. Go read your catalogue."

"Thanks, Slim!" Andy turned, ran towards the house and straight into his bedroom to be alone with his prize.

11

It was late evening when a very tired, and very dirty Jess Harper arrived back at the ranch house. After tending to his horse, he limped slowly from the barn to the house. He hung his hat and gun belt on the pegs just inside the door, hobbled over and sat down heavily at the dining table.

Slim, emerging from their shared bedroom, did a once over of Jess, noting his disheveled appearance. "What have you been doing? Rollin' around all day in that hog swallow bog up on the north pasture?"

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny," growled Jess. "No I ain't been rollin' around in it! Leastwise not on purpose," his voice falling in volume, "Slipped in gettin' some stuck cattle out."

Slim couldn't help but laugh out loud as Jess's ready-for-a-fight face had quickly dissolved into a poor-me-school-boy bout. Instead of salve, Slim's snigger was pouring salt on Jess's wounded pride.

"Listen, mister. It ain't funny," Jess's tone once again returning to a snarl, "Next time I'll just let them goddamn steers drown in the muck!"

Jonesy, hearing the ruckus, appeared from the kitchen. Aww…them boys are at it again. Can't leave 'em alone for a minute. "What's the matter with you two? You're gonna wake up Andy with all your yellin'."

Andy, peeking out from his room and rubbing sleep from his eyes chimed in, "Something wrong? I heard raised voices." His eyes lit on Jess, "Oh hi, Jess. About time you got home. You missed supper."

"Now, see what ya done? You woke him up," criticized Jonesy.

Jess, angrily shot back, "All the hollerin' ain't my goddamn fault; it's Slim's. And like I don't know I damn well missed supper?" Rising from his chair, he limped to the front door. "Goin' out to wash up."

Noting the pronounced limp, Slim sobered, "Jess, you hurt?"

"No. I'm fine," Jess grumbled over his shoulder before slamming the door hard behind him.

"Gee. What did I say?" Andy questioned, "I didn't mean to make him mad."

Slim moved over and put a reassuring arm around his younger brother's shoulders. "Nothing you did, Andy. You know Jess. When he's hurting and gets a bee in his bonnet he can be short tempered and yell at anyone close by. Go back to bed. I'm going to go out and see what's ailing his leg. Jonesy, can you fix up a plate for Jess?"

Reluctantly, Andy went into his room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Jonesy looked over at Slim, "You think Jess is hurt bad? I'll go get some of my liniment. That'll fix him up. As to the plate, already done."

Slim smiled, "Thanks, Jonesy." Suspect Jess will recover fast if he sees Jonesy coming with his 'liniment.' Worst smelling stuff ever created.

Slim found Jess by the pump at the side of the house. Speaking to Jess's back, Slim inquired in a calm voice, "So what happened to your leg?"

Slim saw Jess stiffen as he straightened up from his washing, but then the muscles relaxed and Jess turned, "Sorry, Pard. Been a long day. Shouldn't a snapped at ya all like I did. Particularly not at Andy. Will ya tell him I'm sorry?"

"You can tell him yourself tomorrow at breakfast. I already sent him off to bed. He's got school tomorrow. So what's with your leg?"

"Aw, one of them damn critters didn't take kindly to me helpin' 'im. Kicked me, but I'm alright. Just a mite sore."

"Well…Jonesy wants you to use some of his liniment. Just to be sure."

"Aw no. He ain't putting that god-awful stuff on me. Leg just needs a bit of rest. It'll be fine by tomorrow mornin'."

Slim grinned, "Yeah, thought that might be the case." After a pause, more seriously, "Jess…."

"Yeah?"

"Your language. Wish you'd be a little less colorful around Andy."

Jess hung his head, "I know, Slim. Ya've told me before. I'm sorry. I'll try to do better. It's just that when I get riled up, I ain't always careful. My mouth tends to get ahead of my brain, if ya know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Slim gave Jess's shoulder a slight shake. "Come on. Let's go inside. Jonesy has a plate waiting for you."

111

The next morning over breakfast, Jess apologized, "Andy, about last night. I'm sorry for cussin' and barkin' at ya like I did. It was uncalled for. Ya hadn't done nothing wrong."

"It's alright Jess. I know sometimes you just get mad at the situation, not necessarily at the person."

Jess stopped with his fork of eggs half way to his mouth and stared at Andy, "When in tarnation did you get to be so smart?"

Andy grinned at the compliment.

"Oh, Jess! That catalogue finally arrived. I gotta show you these boots! They're real nice." Andy started to get up from the table.

"Finish your breakfast first," ordered Jonesy.

"Aw, Jonesy…."

"You heard him, Andy. Finish your breakfast," confirmed Slim.

Grudgingly, Andy sat down and quickly scarfed down his meal. "Now can I go?"

"Yes," smiled Slim, "Now you can go."

Andy raced into his room, quickly returning with the catalogue flipped open to the page displaying the boots.

"Ain't they nice?" asked Andy.

"Aren't they," corrected Slim.

Rolling his eyes, Andy repeated, "Aren't they."

Jess, ducked his head, hiding a small grin, then looked at the boots, "Yep, they're mighty fine." Taking the book and flipping randomly through it, he asked Andy, "When did this come?"

"Yesterday. Mose brought it on the noon stage," answered Andy as he returned to his room to gather his school books.

"Which reminds me, Jess," Slim interjected, "Mose said one of the passengers had been asking some personal questions about you and Doc Fuller."

"Oh?" Jess frowned.

"Yeah. Duded up fellow. Mose didn't like him much," Slim added.

"And what did you think of him?"

"Never got to speak to him."

"So ya didn't tell him nothin'," it was a statement not a question. "What about old gabby Mose? What did he tell 'im?"

Slim smiled, "Mose said he's not gossipy. Didn't tell him anything."

Jess snorted.

"Who didn't tell what?" Andy asked as he caught the tail end of the discussion.

Slim, "That Eastern fellow on the stage yesterday."

"Oh, him. He asked all sorts of question about Jess and that lady vet."

Andy, going into the kitchen for his lunch pail didn't see Jess grimace. Slim did. He also suddenly remembered the man had never come to the house. Andy had been out by himself getting the relay team ready. Oh no.

"Did ya speak with 'im?" asked Jess in a low voice.

"Sure, he seemed nice enough."

"What did ya tell 'im?" queried Jess in an even lower monotone, which caught Jonesy's attention as well as Andy's.

Andy's eyes opened wide, "Oh no. I've done it again; just like last night. Made you mad."

Jess repeated, in the same deadly monotone, "What did ya tell 'im?"

Stumbling over his words, but wanting to rid himself of them, Andy blurted, "That you helped her get to Douglas, but you got hurt, and she saved you, and you two like each other, and… and…."

Seeing Andy was upset, Jonesy wrapped his arms around the boy and scowled at Jess, "That's enough, Jess. The boy didn't mean any harm. Besides, it's no secret about Doc Fuller. Most folks know what happened and that we got a female vet up in Douglas."

Jess, let out a deep sigh, and his face relaxed some. "Guess you're right, Jonesy. Ain't no secret. Just gives me sort of a bad feeling, that's all. Come here, Andy."

Andy, with downcast eyes, went over to Jess. "Look at me, Andy," Jess put his forefinger under Andy's chin, lifting it until they were looking eye to eye. "Listen, I know ya didn't mean to gossip. But that's what it was. Ya gotta be more careful around strangers. Ya never know when somethin' you repeat may come back to hurt someone. I'm not sayin' that's gonna happen in this case. Just want ya to be more careful."

"Okay," was Andy's weak reply.

"I ain't mad at ya. Like ya said," Jess gave a cheeky grin, "I'm just mad at the situation."

Andy, seeing the truth in Jess's eyes, offered a small smile in return, "I promise to be more careful, Jess."

"I know ya will." Jess gave Andy's shoulders a brief shake and then released him.

Slim let out his breath. He hadn't realized he'd been holding it. After the evening before, he didn't want to see Jess lose his temper again. Andy always took it personally. But Slim agreed Andy needed to watch what he said, particularly to strangers.

The stage was just pulling into the yard. They knew a fresh team was not needed on this morning run. Andy had to hot foot it out the door or the stage would leave without him. If he missed this ride, he'd not make it into town in time for school.

But as Andy went through the door, Slim asked "Did that fellow ever tell you his name?"

Rushing out, Andy threw over his shoulder, "Steve something."

Slim noted Jess became tense as a well-strung fence wire.

1111

Slim caught up to Jess in the barn as Jess was saddling Traveller.

"Where are you going?"

"Into town."

"Why? What's got you so riled? You know this Steve guy?"

"No. Well, leastways not personally. But I got a gut feelin' that somethin' ain't right."

"What do you mean you don't know him personally?"

Jess turned, exasperation clear on his face, "Look, Slim. It's something Sam, Doc Fuller, said…or rather didn't say. Anyway, will ya just drop it? It's my problem not yours."

"You should know better by now. If it's your problem it IS my problem."

Jess's shoulders sagged. "Okay, okay. I'm not even sure it is a problem, but I gotta check it out. What did this guy look like?"

"Can't say. Didn't get a real good look at him. Maybe as tall as me. Had on some fancy clothes. Darkish hair."

"That's sure not a lot a help. What about his face?

"As I said, didn't get much of a look at him."

"Why not? Team acting up?"

Slim blushed slightly, looking down at his boots, "Well…no, there was this lady passenger…."

"I mighta known," momentarily forgetting his possible trouble, Jess's face broke in to a crooked grin watching his friend squirm. "Did ya even help change the teams?"

"Ah…well…," Looking up, Slim caught the devilish twinkle in Jess's eyes. "Like you've never been side tracked by a woman."

Jess laughing, hopped into his stirrup, threw his leg over Traveller's rump and seated himself. "See ya later, lady-killer."

Slim watched as Traveller broke into a slow lope, taking Jess out of the yard and towards Laramie.

11111

Jess's first stop was at the Sheriff's office. Giving a quick knock on the door, but not waiting for a response, he entered the office.

"Been a long time, Jess. What brings you to town? Been yearning for the best dang coffee in the territory?" Mort, rising from his chair, extended his hand which Jess strongly grasped with his own.

"Gotta admit I do like your coffee. Just haveta be sure I don't leave a spoon in too long, or it'll plum melt away."

Mort threw back his head and laughed. "Sure is good to see you. Been missin' your sense of humor."

"Who's joking? Your coffee really is strong enough to eat through metal. Just be sure ya don't give it to the prisoners or you'll be aidin' and abettin' jail breaks."

After helping himself to the much maligned beverage, Jess sat down on the edge of Mort's desk and became serious.

"May sound crazy, Mort, but I got a bad feeling about a fella that passed through our place on the stage yesterday."

"Oh?" Noting the grimness in Jess's voice, Mort switched from friend into lawman. "So what's this guy's name?"

"Steve. I think."

Mort looked a bit askance at Jess, "You think? Do you have a last name?

"Nope."

"Well, can you at least tell me what he looks like?" asked a befuddled Mort.

"Can't do that neither."

"Guess looking through wanted posters is out of the question," quipped Mort. "What is it about this fellow that makes you think he's dangerous?"

"Never said nothin' about him being dangerous."

Mort stared hard into Jess's eyes, who stared back just as hard. Mort finally let his gaze drop, "Come on Jess. I know you better than that. You wouldn't be in my office if you weren't worried about him doing something or hurting someone. So who is it? Slim?"

As the silence stretched out, Mort was beginning to think Jess would not answer. Finally Jess gave a slight shrug, seeming to come to a decision, "It's Doc Fuller."

"The lady vet up in Douglas?"

"Yeah, her."

"So what makes you think he might do her harm?"

"Just a feelin'. She half mentioned some guy named Steve and she didn't seem none too happy about 'im. Plus this guy was asking Mose and then Andy a lot a questions he shouldn't a been askin' about me and her."

"Hmm. Knowing Mose, he probably spilled his guts."

"Actually, no. Was Andy that talked to him."

Mort raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Andy? He oughta know better than to talk to strangers asking unnecessary questions."

"Yeah, I know. We had a talk with him. Think he'll be more careful in the future."

"So what exactly do you want me to do about this mystery man, who's possibly named Steve?"

"Don't rightly know. Maybe just keep your eyes and ears open. Let me know if anybody's been talkin' to him."

"And what do you plan to do if someone has?"

"Don't rightly know that neither."

Mort eyed Jess. "Alright, I'll keep this Steve guy in mind. But you, and I mean this Jess, stay out of trouble. Keep your nose clean."

Falling back into his boyish insolence, Jess, half grinning and tipping his hat as he left, remarked, "Don't I always?"

Despite Mort's warning, Jess knew he had to worry this bone. He couldn't leave everything on the lawman's shoulders. His next stop was at the saloon. He figured if anyone was looking for loose lips, they'd be sure to find some there.

"Hey, Jess. Long time no see. How you doin'? How's the ranch?" asked the barkeep.

"Hey, Sam. You'd think I hadn't been to town in a month the way you and Mort been actin'. Come to think of it, it has been a few weeks."

"Mort? What you seeing Mort about? Trouble?"

"Nah, nothing really. Just socializing."

"That's good to hear. Worried me there for a minute. Hey, by the way, how's that woman vet doing up in Douglas?"

Jess immediately came to attention, "What makes you ask?"

"Oh, no reason in particular, but there was a guy in here earlier. Fancy kind of fellow. Was asking after her."

"So whatcha tell him?"

Jess's deepened voice put Sam on the alert, "Nothin'. Was too busy with other customers at the time. Think he spoke some with Willie over there." Sam pointed towards the back of the saloon.

Oh great. The town drunk. And more talkative than even Mose. Particularly if ya buy him a drink. Jess spotted Willie partially slouched over a table. Picking up the beer Sam had poured him, Jess sauntered over and sat down.

Slurring his words a bit, Willie looked up and gave Jess a gap-toothed smile, "If it ain't my good friend Jess Harper. How ya bin?"

"Just fine, Willie. Listen, I'll get right to the point. I hear some guy's been asking after me and Doc Fuller."

"Oh yeah. Real nice fella. Fancy dresser, but real nice fella. Bought me a whole bottle. Lookie here," he lifted a half empty bottle into Jess's face.

Gently batting it away, Jess asked, "Did he say why he wanted to know about us?"

With his head weaving a bit, Willie stared off into space as he thought on the question. He finally answered, "Nope. Not that I remember. But he was a real nice fella. He knew you were a cowboy and fast with a gun, but was surprised when I told him about your gunfighter past. Course I told him you don't do that no more. Only on the right side of the law. He seemed glad about that and glad you and her got along so well. Heck, he seemed happy about most everything. Real nice fella. Bought me this whole bottle."

"Yeah, yeah, but what did ya tell him about Doc Fuller?"

Willie grinned, too inebriated to detect the dangerous undertone in Jess's voice, "Oh I didn't tell him nothin'. Just answered a few questions. Yep, she's still single far as I know, but told him I think she's sweet on you," Willie winked at Jess, who did not give a response, "and that she's doing a right good business, last I heard. Real nice fella. Give me this whole bottle." He once again waved the whisky near Jess's face.

Jess again pushed the bottle aside, "Did he say where he was goin'?"

"Who? That real nice fella?"

"Yeah, him."

"Hmm…don't rightly recall. Oh yeah, he did ask where the horse stable was. Horse stable! Get it? He was asking after the livery stable and called it a horse stable. Tenderfoot for sure. But nice fella. Real nice."

"We'll see," Jess muttered as he flipped a half-bit piece to Willie.

"Why thanks, Jess. You're a nice fella too. Give that guy my best if ya see him."

"Sure, Willie. I'll do just that." Jess's remark sounded more like a threat than a promise. Willie, busy pocketing the coin, didn't notice.

Jess marched over to the livery and was told the Easterner had rented a horse and seemed to be a good rider despite his fancy clothes.

The man had taken the west road out of Laramie, but the stable boy wasn't sure where he was heading. He did give a fair description: tall, average build, dark brown hair, clean-shaven, pleasant-looking in a somewhat dark way, and had a burn scar just to the side of his right eye.

Jess returned to Mort's office and told him what he'd learned. They looked through some of the more recent wanted posters, but none seemed to fit the man's description.

Uneasy, but not knowing what else to do for the moment, Jess rode back to the Sherman Ranch.

111111

Although he had considered riding out immediately to check on Samantha, just to ease his mind, demands of the ranch kept Jess from actually leaving for Douglas. However, a week later the stagecoach driver dropped off a telegram that galvanized Jess into action.

He packed his saddle bags and asked Jonesy for some provisions.

"What's wrong, boy?" Jonesy's concern deepened as Jess pulled out his old gunfighter revolver from its hidey hole in the mantle.

Jess unwrapped the gun, spun the chamber, checked the action and then began loading cartridges one by one. "Don't know for sure. But I gotta go. Tell Slim I'll be back when I can."

"Slim isn't gonna like this much. At least tell me where you're going so I can tell Slim."

"Douglas."

"This have anything to do with Doc Fuller and that dude?"

"Might."

"Darn it boy, can't you give me more than a one word answer?"

"Nope."

Jess holstered the modified revolver, picked up his saddlebags, grabbed the food sack Jonesy had thrown together for him, and headed out to the barn.

Jonesy silently shook his head and stared after him for a moment. Aww…he's headin' for trouble. I just know it. But won't listen to a word I say. No sir. With sadness and worry showing in his eyes, Jonesy returned to the kitchen to start preparing supper.

As Jess, mounted on Traveller, was leaving the corral, Slim rode up, "Hey there, Pard. Where you off to?" Noting the antsy way Jess sat his horse, Slim added, "Where's the fire?"

Jess paused a moment and looked around the yard. He couldn't see a way to make a fast exit like he'd hoped. This was his problem, not Slim's. Maybe this Steve was dangerous after all despite his fancy clothes and he didn't want Slim in harm's way.

Slim suddenly saw what Jess had strapped to his thigh and his eyes narrowed. "Now I know there's trouble. What is it?"

Jess remained silent.

"Come on Jess. Don't hold out on me. You know you'd be demanding the same of me if you were in my boots."

Sitting ramrod straight, Jess still did not respond. Slim stood his ground, looking sternly at Jess. Finally, with a slight relaxation of his shoulder muscles, Jess handed Slim the telegram he'd crammed into his vest. "Here. Came today on the stage."

Slim opened the telegram and read: Need your help STOP Come quick STOP Samantha.

"Is this from Doc Fuller?"

Jess nodded.

"Well what's it mean?"

"How the hell do I know, Slim? If I knew that I wouldn't be in such a goldurn hurry to get to Douglas."

"Can't you telegraph and ask her for more details? Seems awfully vague."

"If I did that, might sound like I don't wanta come. That ain't the case. You know I owe her my life. And I've had this gnawing feelin' since that fella went through on the stage askin' all them questions. Besides, no matter what she'd wire back, I'd still have to see for myself that she was alright."

"But why take 'that' gun?"

Jess looked down at his hands for several moments and then up into his pard's questioning eyes. "Slim, I put this up to leave my past behind for everyone's sake includin' my own. And I know you don't like me bringin' it out. Me neither. But I don't know what I'm up against or who. And it's Sam, Doc Fuller, I'm worried about. Don't want nothin' bad to happen to her. I figure better to go prepared, rather than be caught flat-footed and wishin' I'd thought to bring it."

Slim's analytical mind quickly examined the situation from all sides. He could see Jess's point. Although the cowboy had been known to go off halfcocked, he also had good instincts. Jess was not stupid; in fact he was very intelligent with a lot of practical, worldly experience under his belt. Plus this had been one of the longest and most convincing discourses he'd given in quite a while.

Maybe Doc Fuller's difficulty is a minor one and has nothing to do with this Easterner. Might even just involve a horse. After all, she is a vet and she knows Jess is awfully good with horseflesh. But then again, maybe there is real trouble and it does involve this Steve fellow. "Yeah, I might feel and do likewise. Hopefully it's nothing serious, but I think I'd better ride along, just to be sure."

Jess retrieved the telegram and stuffed it into his vest pocket.

"No, Slim. You're needed here. Ain't good to have us both away. Besides, as ya just said, might not be too serious. Plus don't know how long it'll take if there is trouble."

"All the more reason for me to go along with you. Two of us might fix it up in half the time. Just let me get my bedroll. "

Jess let out a deep sigh and leaned on the horn of his saddle, "Look, Slim, I ain't got time to argue with ya or wait for ya. All this gabbin' is just keepin' me off the trail that much longer. Tell ya what, I'll send a telegram soon as I get there and let ya know what's goin' on."

Slim did not like the idea, but also knew stopping Jess once he had his mind set on something was futile. "You sure are a stubborn cuss. Alright, I'll let you go with the thought it's a minor problem. But be careful all the same. Soon as you find out what's going on, you send that wire and say if you need me."

"You bet." Jess waved as he hurried on past Slim.

Sure you will. I know you too well, Jess Harper. I'll be glad just to get a wire. Then I'll decide for myself whether you need me or not. Slim sighed. His heart told him to grab his saddle bags and head out after Jess anyway. But his head told him Jess was probably right.

Not good to have both of us away from the ranch unless really necessary. Slim wasn't sure if this was the case since whatever 'help' the Doc needed might not require both of them. Still…that 'come quick' rattled him. If he didn't hear good news, or heard no news, he'd find somebody to fill in at the ranch and he'd follow Jess. Going to be some long days waiting to hear.

Chapter 2

The streets of Douglas were quiet as Jess rode into town in the early afternoon. Seems peaceful enough. He rode straight to Samantha's – a small house and barn sporting a veterinary shingle. Despite the presence of a few four-legged patients, no one was home.

Returning to the center of town, Jess left Traveller at the livery, giving the stable boy instructions to rub the horse down well and give him extra grain. His horse deserved it. Jess had made the trip quick, pushing both himself and the bay gelding. Giving his horse one last pat on the neck, Jess headed for the saloon.

"Beer."

"Sure, mister," replied the barkeep, drawing a cold one and sliding it down the bar. With practiced ease, Jess stopped the full mug losing nary a drop.

"Would ya know where I can find the vet?"

"Doc Fuller? Probably doing her rounds to the farms. Should be back any time now. You got a sick animal needs tending?"

"Nah. She's just an old friend."

The bartender nodded, and turned to serve another customer.

Jess, with his back to the bar, appeared to casually scan the room. In truth he was scrutinizing everyone; looking for anyone with a scar next to his right eye. Though the lighting was less than ideal, no one seemed to match the description he'd been given. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No obvious tension or unusual interest in himself or anyone else. As he finished his beer, the barman came over to see if he wanted a refill.

"One's enough for now. Say, do many strangers come through here?" queried Jess.

"Exceptin' yourself?" shot back the barkeep.

With a wry grin, Jess replied, "Yeah, besides me."

"Nope, not too many. Why? You lookin' for someone?" Becoming suspicious, the barman looked Jess up and down, and for the first time, noted Jess's low slung, tied-down rig. Uh oh. Gunfighter for sure. "Look mister, I don't know who you are or where you come from, but I don't want no trouble in here."

"Simmer down. I'm just here for a friendly visit with the Doc."

The bartender relaxed a little, but was still uncertain of this man. After instructing one of his helpers to tend the bar, he slipped out the back door and over to the Sherriff's office.

Jess grimaced. Am I really that frightening? He shrugged one blue clad shoulder. Better to be too much than too little. Distracted by these thoughts as he left the bar, he ran smack dab into someone, knocking them down. As he reached down to help the person to their feet and apologize, he froze. "Samantha!"

Looking up at him a bit disgruntled, she exclaimed, "We have GOT to stop meeting like this, Jess Harper." Unlike the first time they'd met (see, The Lone Goose), she extended her hand to Jess, "Well, aren't ya going to help me up?"

Jess quickly pulled her to her feet.

"Gosh it's good to see you, Jess. What brings you to Douglas?" She gave him her most radiant smile.

Jess was briefly again frozen in place by that smile. Yep, gotta admit she might be plain on the outside, but when she smiles, she's beautiful. He continued to stare at her, remembering all they had gone through together.

Getting no response, Doc Fuller repeated, "So why are you here, Jess?"

Shaking his head to return to the present, Jess's eyebrows rose in surprise, "Why am I here? Well, why do ya think I'm here? You sent for me didn't ya?"

This time it was her eyebrows that rose, "What are you talking about? I never sent for you."

"Yeah ya did. Ya sent this." He pulled the telegram out and handed it to her.

Puzzled, she opened the missive and read the short note. "I don't know who sent this, Jess, but it wasn't me."

"It was me," spoke a voice from behind Samantha.

She whirled and suddenly staggered, "Steve!"

Jess reached out to steady her, taking note that this man bore a burn mark beside his right eye.

"Hey, sweetheart, nice to see you looking so good and doing so well," Steve smirked.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Now is that any way to speak to your loving husband?"

Jess gave an involuntary start. Husband? Sam has a husband?

"The hell you're loving, and you're no husband of mine. You destroyed us!"

Jess was even more confused. Us? Who's 'us'?

"Hey, sometimes things get out of our control. They just happen. But I am here to make it up to you."

"Go ta Hell."

"Your language has surely deteriorated, my dear Samantha. Such profanity! Though I find your colloquialism rather endearing."

Jess wasn't exactly sure what the man had just said, but from Sam's body language he knew she was near the end of her rope.

Just then, the Sheriff walked up, a Remington cradled in his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, Jess saw the bartender slip into the alley leading to the back door of the saloon.

"Is there a problem here?" asked the Sheriff, giving Steve a quick cursory glance and then scrutinizing Jess. "I don't allow gun play in my town if I can help it. And I CAN usually help it."

With some degree of difficulty, Samantha calmed herself and let out a long breath, "No, Sheriff, no problem. Jess here," pointing over her shoulder, "is a friend. This other fellow is leaving town soon. No problem." With that, she turned and walked rapidly down the street towards her place. All three men gazed after her for several moments.

The lawman looked hard at Jess and at his sidearm, "I'll take Doc Fuller's word for it right now, but I don't want to hear of you causing any trouble. Understand?"

"I understand, Sheriff. No trouble." But Jess had difficulty taking his eyes off Steve who briefly let a feral smile flicker across his face.

"Okay then. Good day to you both." After another long look at Jess and only the slightest of glances at Steve, the Sheriff headed back to the jail.

"Well, my good man, let me buy you a drink so we can discuss some business." Steve started to touch Jess's shoulder, but Jess pulled away.

"I ain't your good man, and I don't see how we could have any business to discuss."

"Oh, but there is where you are wrong. We have a great deal to discuss. That is if you do not want to see our dear Samantha get hurt."

"You threatin' her?" Jess straightened up to his full height which was still a head shorter than the other man. However, the deadly rumble in his voice and the hardness in his narrowed eyes made Steve take an involuntary step backwards.

"No, not at all! I do not want our sweet Samantha in harm's way any more than you do. That is why I sent for you. I know you care for her and you are much better equipped," gesturing vaguely towards Jess's gun, "than I to handle this particular problem. Come. We cannot discuss it outside on the street like a couple of vagabonds. Let us go inside and I will tell you all about our problem."

Jess wasn't at all convinced that 'our problem' was indeed 'his problem,' but for Samantha's sake he followed Steve into the saloon. As he did, his right hand unconsciously closed around the grip of his revolver, and his eyes took on an icy gunfighter's glint. I'll hear what this yahoo has to say. But husband or not, I'll put a stop to him if he plans on hurtin' Sam.

22

"Let me get this straight. These guys should be gunnin' for you, but instead they think Samantha's the one that's got their money. And ya couldn't convince them otherwise, that you had the money but spent it all. But now ya think you can stop these guys, with my help, before they get to her. That right?"

"Exactly, my dear fellow."

"I ain't your dear fellow. Why don'tcha go to the law? Hell, why didn't they kill you when ya told them about the money."

"Well, as to the latter, I did not actually tell them in person. It was through an emissary, and that poor fellow was indeed dispatched. As to the law … that requires a far more convoluted explanation and would be difficult to elucidate in a short period of time. Simply put, it would bring unwarranted emotional and financial suffering upon our dear Samantha. Her reputation would be ruined. She would have to travel back East to contest multiple legalities, so it would also devastate her business, which I understand has been quite profitable. Such a shame if she were to lose everything through no culpability of her own. She is a most incredible person, as you well know, and should not be subjected to such undeserved adversity. Now you see why I need your assistance? It is purely to help her."

Jess didn't fully understand all the words just thrown at him, but he got the gist. Samantha was caught between a rock and a hard place. Mostly due to this poor excuse for a man. Jess didn't know what else Steve had done to her in the past, but remembering her recent reaction as well as the impression he'd gotten when Sam and he were stuck out on the mountain, it couldn't have been good.

"I don't like it. Think I'll have to discuss this with Samantha."

"Oh no, my dear boy. There is no time. I have recently been informed that the gang is within a few days ride from here. If we are going to 'cut them off at the pass' – I think that is how you say it out here, we have to act swiftly. Besides, our dear Samantha is not privy to any of this. It would just put her in harm's way if she were to become cognizant of these matters. No, no, we must attend to this problem ourselves."

Jess squirmed in his chair. He really didn't like or trust the man. "How'd ya hear about them being close by?"

"Oh, I have my sources. Trust me."

Yeah, right. When Hell freezes over I'll trust ya. "I ain't gonna bushwack nobody. I'll try to scare 'em off or lock 'em up if I can, but I don't kill in cold blood. Never have and sure ain't plannin' to start now."

"Fine by me. If we capture them we could turn them over to the law enforcement people. I am sure they are wanted for numerous other crimes. They really are very bad men. If they then try to spin yarns about our dear Samantha, who is going to believe them? So can we go? Hit the trail, or whatever you say?"

Geez…this guy keeps talking like this and callin' Sam 'our dear,' I might just change my mind about cold-blooded killin'. Jess was tired. It had been a grueling few days.

Maybe he wasn't thinking too straight because although reluctant, he said, "Yeah. Let's go." Still not too keen on all this, and sure don't trust him, but hate the thought of Sam losing her business and havin' to go back East. I'll ride with him for a while and see how this pans out. Can always call it quits if it turns sour. Best not see Samantha before we leave. Doubt I could keep all this from her.

So the cowboy and the gent reclaimed their horses from the livery and rode out of town. The Sheriff watched them go; glad to be rid of the gunfighter and wondering if the gent knew what he might be getting into riding with a gun slick.

222

Arriving at her barn, Sam was surprised Jess had not followed her. She didn't think he'd leave town without seeing her even though she hadn't sent for him. Oh Lord. Can't be Steve, can it? Shouldn't have left Jess alone with him. That slimy bastard can be awfully convincing.

As she started to go find Jess, a youth riding bareback, galloped into the yard and slid from his panting mount before the horse had come to a complete stop.

"Doc! Our mare is in bad trouble. Pa says if you don't come quick we're gonna lose her and the foal. She's stuck and bleeding."

Torn between her concern for Jess and her professional responsibility, Samantha, hoping against hope, asked, "Your dad hasn't been able to help her? He usually can."

Sam knew the farmer was quite good with animals. She also knew the family barely scraped by and the loss of the foal, to say nothing of the loss of the mare, would be very hard on them. It would be particularly difficult for this boy since he'd hand raised the mare and she was his pride and joy.

"No, ma'am. Pa's not been able to help her. That's why he sent me to get you. I can't stand to see the pain she's in," he pleaded.

Samantha saw the desperation in the boy's eyes. She couldn't resist his plea or shirk her duty. Jess can take care of himself a lot better than that mare can. Maybe he decided to check into the hotel or have another beer before coming to see me.

To the boy she ordered, "Go saddle my horse while I gather up some supplies."

"Yes, ma'am," the boy responded with obvious relief in his voice. He had complete faith in this vet. He was sure everything would be alright now. He hurried into the barn to get her horse.

She couldn't fully let go, though, of her guilt for leaving Jess with Steve. She sent up a prayer. Please, God. Don't let it be Steve that's holding up Jess. And if it is, give Jess the insight to see through any deception.

2222

Samantha was able to save both the foal and the mare, but it was a grueling test of her abilities and her endurance. She didn't get home until early the next morning. So it was late the following day when Samantha went to the hotel to see if Jess had registered. Finding he had not, Sam went to the Sheriff's office.

She queried the lawman, "Have you seen Jess today? I was wondering what might have become of him."

"No, Doc. Didn't see him today. Last time I saw him he was riding out of town with that gent you were talking to yesterday. Hope that gun slick doesn't take your friend for everything he's worth."

Samantha paled, "I fear it might be the other way around." I have to find them, but I can't handle Steve by myself. Tried that before. Sure didn't work. Maybe talk to the law? She almost snorted, probably not this "law" that stood before her. Besides what would I say? I wasn't able to convince anyone before. Oh God, I don't know what to do. Barely audible she whispered, "I just pray Jess has the strength to do what I could not."

A bewildered Sheriff stared after her as she walked away.

Chapter 3

It was their second night out. Jess had taken it slow, allowing Traveller a bit of a breather. As the cowboy was making up their camp, Steve aimlessly followed him around.

"So…I hear you and Samantha spent a long time holed up together last winter."

Jess paused in his chores to take a sideways look at the man. "Wasn't like what you might think. Nothin' happened."

"Oh come come now, my dear boy. We are both grown men. I know she is not much to look at, but you have to admit she is quite good in bed."

Jess surged to his feet, "Don't you dare talk about her, or any woman, like that."

"What? Not state how good a given woman's warm, tight…" Steve never knew what hit him. He looked up to see Jess standing over him. The cowboy's hand was still tightly curled in to a fist and he was breathing hard.

"What is your problem, dear boy? You are a boy are you not? Why else would you befriend that ugly bitch if you had not screwed her and…"

With lightning speed, Jess gathered him up by the front of his fancy frock and punched him again. This time Steve did not respond. He was out cold.

Resisting the urge to pound the man's face into a pulp, Jess shook the unconscious man, but then let him drop to the ground. You're the ugly one, you bastard. Why she'd ever marry you I'll never know.

After a night's sleep and a full day's ride to think about this mission, Jess was coming to his senses. Don't know what your real game is, mister, but I was crazy to listen to ya. I'm headin' back first thing tomorrow. Gonna talk to Sam and then probably the Sheriff. This 'cuttin' 'em off at the pass' don't make sense. If they are 'real bad men' and are any kind of gunmen to boot, my chances of scarin' 'em off or capturing 'em alive is pretty slim. Better let Samantha clear this up. I'll always back her, but from now on, gotta be her doin' the askin', not this lowlife.

Still fuming at Steve's insinuations, Jess ate a few cold beans, shook out his bed roll, and turned in for the night. He gave a final glance over at Steve, who was still unconscious. Serves ya right. Hope you freeze to death, ya son-of-a-bitch.

33

Having lain all night where Jess had dropped him, Steve woke the next morning stiff, sore and cold. He saw Jess crouched over the fire, fixing something that smelled distinctly like bacon. "Ummm…that smells good."

Jess did not turn to address him, "Don't speak to me ya son-of-a-bitch. I don't want to hear one goddamn word come out of that filthy mouth of yours."

"Listen dear boy, I did not mean to upset you…" he stopped suddenly as Jess whirled and flung the fry pan's contents at him. Most of the food landed on his clothes, but some of the grease spattered on his bare hands. "Ouch! That hurt!"

"Not nearly what ya deserve. Just be glad I kept the pan in my hand. I'm headin' back."

"What?" whined Steve, "But you cannot do that! What about our dear Samantha?"

"She's the reason I am headin' back, mister. Your story just don't make sense the more I think on it. And from what ya said last night, I ain't all that convinced ya really care what happens to her."

Steve picked a strip of bacon off his shirt and silently ate it as he sized Jess up. Hmmm…more trouble than I anticipated, but you will still do for my needs. And once I am through, you will wish you had been more respectful, you country trash.

Both men, distracted by unpleasant thoughts of the other, were caught off guard. A sudden smattering of bullets forced Jess to dive behind some rocks, while Steve cowered on open ground.

"Found you, you scum. And your friend. We have some unfinished business. You really think you could steal from us and we wouldn't catch up with you? You're not as smart as you think you are," came a cold hard voice from the rocks overlooking the camp.

"It's them!" whimpered Steve, "Do something."

Glancing briefly at Steve and then at the rocks overhead trying to spot the shooters, Jess spat, "Like what? And what they sayin' about you havin' the money. Thought ya said they were after Sam."

"No time to discuss that now. Just shoot them."

Jess looked over, frowning with disgust at Steve, then shouted, "Hey, you up in the rocks. Can we talk? I ain't got nothin' to do with the money, and I ain't got nothing against any of ya."

"Nice try. Won't work. If you got any last words, say 'em now," the same cold voice replied and the hidden gunman sent down a few shots to make his point. One of the bullets struck the rock Jess was behind, sending a spray of stone fragments into his face.

That was too close for comfort. They've got the advantage. From the gunfire, at least three of 'em and they're above me. Reluctantly, Jess acknowledged peaceful discussion with these men was not an option.

Shifting positions, one of the gunman showed himself and Jess's aim was true. The man tumbled down off the rocks. Jess made a calculated run to a better hiding spot, which drew out the other two gunmen. The two sent a hail of bullets towards Jess, who dropped, rolled and dispatched both of them. Jess felt ill realizing that he'd fulfilled Steve's request. He'd shot all three ambushers dead.

Steve rose and walked over to Jess who was still prone on the ground. "Oh, you are good at your trade. You are not hurt are you?"

"What trade? Told ya I ain't a gunfighter no more. And I'm fine."

Jess looked to see what Steve was staring at and saw a growing red stain on his left thigh. "Damn!" Dropping his gun, Jess pushed his right hand hard against his bleeding wound. "Hurts ta blue blazes."

"It is not serious I hope."

"Had worse. Hand me a clean bandage from my saddlebag will ya? I usually carry some just in case."

"Odd thing to do," stated Steve. Instead of heading toward the saddlebags, he came over and picked up Jess's gun.

"Careful with that. It's got a hair trigger. Don't want to be shot with my own gun."

"No, we would not want that." Something in Steve's voice made Jess look up at the man. The feral grin Jess had seen briefly in town, now was spread openly across the man's face. The last thing Jess saw was his own gun being brought down hard on his head.

Steve briefly smiled at the unconscious cowboy.

"Time for your first lesson. This is for hitting me last night," with a hardened scowl he kicked Jess viciously.

A thin drool of spittle fell from his mouth on to Jess. "No, I don't want you to die…at least not yet."

Chapter 4

Jess woke to a throbbing head, a burning ache in his leg and painful ribs. He tried to move only to discover he was securely tied to a chair with his hands and feet tightly bound. He was in some sort of cabin. Long abandoned from the looks of the meager furniture and thick dust. There was a cot as well as a small table with a chair over close to a stone fireplace and not much else.

The door squeaked open as Steve strolled through. "So sleeping beauty awakes." He grabbed Jess by his chin, and roughly turned the cowboy's head side to side. "Yeah, guess you are good looking enough for the ladies. At least for one in particular."

Jess futilely struggled against his bonds. "What the hell you playin' at? Why'd ya tie me?"

"All in good time. But for now stop your whining and be silent."

"Like hell I will."

All pretenses dropped, Steve picked up Jess's gun and savagely pounded the butt into his wounded leg. Jess doubled over as far as his bonds would allow. A few unwanted tears squeezed past his tightly closed eyelids.

"I said be silent! You WILL learn to obey me. I do not want to have to do that again. Can't have you bleeding out on me now can we."

Finally able to open his eyes, Jess watched as Steve started a fire in the fireplace. Steve rubbed his hands together, "Ah, much better, nice to be warm."

Jess wouldn't know. The fire was too far away for him to feel its warmth. Taking inventory, he noted he no longer had on his coat, vest or boots. What was left of his work-worn shirt was badly ripped, partially exposing his bare chest to the chill in the room. He shivered.

Steve having returned to him, noted the shiver. "Poor boy, you must be cold. I had to take your coat off. Too bulky. It kept making you slip as I dragged you to your horse. And your shirt got a little torn while I was getting you on and tying you down over your saddle. My, but you are a heavy one for being so small. Lot of muscle."

As he tried to squeeze Jess's well-developed shoulder Jess pulled away as if a snake had approached him. Steve slapped him hard across the face. "Such an impudent one. No matter. Can be fun teaching the wild ones."

"What the hell do you want?" bellowed Jess.

Steve strode rapidly over to the fireplace. Returning with a poker, he jabbed its handle hard into Jess's midsection. "I said be silent!"

Once he could breathe again, Jess looked up at Steve and saw madness. He's loco. Plum loco. "I just need to know if you plan to hurt Samantha. Do what ya want to me but leave her alone."

"Ever the gallant one, yes? But sadly such a slow learner." Steve went back to the fireplace. After several minutes, he returned with two pokers. Half the length of each now glowed a deep red.

Without preamble or warning, he laid them across Jess's exposed bare torso, pushing them hard into the heaving chest. The smell of burning flesh nauseated Jess, but Steve seemed to sniff it in like fine perfume. Jess struggled back against the ropes tying him to the chair, but couldn't escape the pokers burning deep into his body. With a strangled gasp, he slipped into oblivion.

Steve finally withdrew the pokers and gently patted Jess's sweat-drenched hair. "There, there. That wasn't so bad was it? Lesson over. It was a good one and you did well. You earned your sleep. We'll have more lessons tomorrow."

44

All through the night, Jess dreamt that a demon was pushing him into Hell. The demon was using his pitchfork, which had pierced Jess's left thigh, to force him deeper and deeper into the pit. As the demon pushed him harder, the cowboy's chest came closer and closer to the inferno. It burned. With a start, he awoke and realized his chest really was burning and his leg throbbed without mercy. His throat was dry and he was desperately thirsty. He tried to lick his cracked lips.

"Ah, finally awake. Good, good."

"Water," it was barely a whispered croak.

"So, you want water do you?"

Unable to speak, Jess weakly nodded his head.

"Here you go." Grabbing a handful of Jess's hair he yanked the cowboy's head into a painful backward arch which stretched his brutally burnt chest and aching ribs. Steve began pouring water into Jess's open mouth. In that position, unable to actually swallow or even close his mouth, he gagged and gurgled, but Steve continued to pour the water. Just as Jess was sure he was going to die by drowning rather than by a bullet, Steve stopped pouring and released his hold. The cowboy's head fell heavily onto his chest. He gasped for air and coughed spasmodically which only amplified the stabbing pain in his chest and ribs.

Steve left Jess, strolled over to the table, sat down, and eyed his prisoner speculatively. "Should be careful what you ask for, boy. Never know how your wish will be delivered. That was another lesson. I am sure you will do better next time."

Drenched from the water and his own sweat, Jess was too exhausted to turn his head to look at his tormenter. But his stubborn side wouldn't let him go down without a fight. "Bastard."

Rushing over, Steve crammed a rag into the cowboy's mouth and gave him two backhanded slaps.

"I have heard all I am going to take from you. You wanted to know my plans? Well I will tell you. I did steal the gang's money and I did spend most of it. Living well does not come cheap. So I need more. I knew our little Samantha had plenty. Took me some time to find her, and was not sure how I would get it. But then you fell into my lap. Not only could you take care of those three gunmen for me, you could also help me get her money. You see, our dear Samantha is going to happily hand it over to me, just to save your worthless skin. I know you had your way with her."

Steve laughed watching Jess struggle anew against the ropes. "Or maybe it was the other way around: she had her way with you. No matter. I get the money and also revenge on my unfaithful wife and her lover. What could be better than that?"

Jess inwardly groaned as he again saw the madness in Steve's eyes.

"Here, let me read you the ransom note: 'My dear Samantha, I have your lover boy. If you hope to see him alive you will bring all monies you have to where the river splits, five miles north of town. If you alert anyone or bring anyone, Jess Harper will have a lingering and most painful death. He asks you to hurry as I have been teaching him lessons. You know what that means. Your loving husband.'"

"There. How does that sound? And I have thought of an ingenious way to get the message to her." He opened the cabin door and Jess saw Traveller standing patiently at the hitching rail. Steve strode out and put the note in Jess's saddlebag. "Now what do people take to vets? Ah yes. They take injured animals don't they."

Jess's eyes widened as the implication sunk in. Withdrawing his pocketknife while holding tight to the reins, he turned so Jess could have a clear view. Smiling at Jess, he drove the knife into Traveller's shoulder and pulled down. The horse half reared and cried out in pain. Jess gagged and his eyes filled with tears. The horse, HIS horse. It was blameless. What kind of monster would do that? Jess's eyes hardened. I'll kill you.

"I will have to lead him close to town. Would not want him to get lost or end up at some other vet. I should be back before nightfall, but no need to wait up for me."

Steve slammed the door, and shortly thereafter Jess heard two horses trot off.

His burnt chest was a torment and his leg even worse, but Jess desperately looked around the small shack trying to figure how to get loose. Working his tongue feverishly, he was able to expel the rag from his mouth. He took a slow, long, deep breath. He'd found it difficult to breathe just through his nose since it had bled from the repeated hits his face had taken from Steve.

Now what? He couldn't see any knife or other sharp object which he might use to free himself. The fireplace?

The fire had dwindled to a few glowing embers. Fire was one thing that truly frightened Jess. He knew what it could do. He'd witnessed his home, with his family inside, get burned to the ground. But his need to save Samantha overrode his fear.

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Might be able to burn these ropes off. What do I have to lose?

He tried jumping, hoping to hop the chair over to the fireplace. It did move some, but each time it did, the bullet was badly jarred, sending a piercing lancet of pain up his leg. Despite the hurt, he continued to hop the chair.

After what seemed like hours, he became frustrated with the slowness of his progress, so he began to wiggle the chair more aggressively until he unexpectedly felt it begin to tip.

Aw hell. He tried to shift back and keep the chair upright, but without success. Seemingly in slow motion he continued in a downward arc towards the floor. Jess suddenly realized he was awfully close to the table.

Aw hell no, his final thought as his head came into hard contact with the table leg and he blacked out.

444

Despite a seemingly unending string of patients which kept Samantha's hands busy, her mind was occupied by Jess and how she might locate him.

She was administering to one last case, an injured dog, when yet another client knocked on her door. She preferred working with farm animals, but was always willing to tend any animal in need of her expertise; not only for the animal's sake but for the owner's sake as well. Which in this case was a 9-year-old girl.

"There you go. Just keep the bandage dry and he'll do fine. Bring him back in ten days and I'll remove the stitches. Off you go."

"Thanks, Doctor Fuller. Buddy means a lot to me. Hope this is enough for your trouble." With worried eyes, she laid a half-bit piece in Sam's hand.

"That'll be just fine, Katie."

With a big grin, the child left.

Where are you Jess? Turning to her next client, she recognized the livery's stable boy. "What is it, Tommy?"

"Got an injured horse, Doc. Just walked inta the stable. I've seen him afore but ain't rightly sure who owns 'im. Brought 'im to ya causin' he's hurt. Got hisself cut up."

For some reason, Samantha's stomach did a flip. "Where is he?"

"Put 'im up at your barn. Gotta get back now." The boy hurried off down the street.

With trepidation, Sam went to her barn. A saddled and bridled bay stood patiently in a stall. "Easy fella. You're in good hands." She immediately took in the blood on the horses withers, but rapidly looked him over to see if there were any other injuries. Finding no others, she quickly laid the saddle and bridle aside and put a rope halter on the horse.

Concentrating on her task, she efficiently treated the cut and placed a few stitches. "Can't put too many in or your wound won't drain. We'll just have to keep it clean." The horse took most of the treatment stoically, only flinching and whinnying when she did the stitching. She'd always had a light touch.

Having finished treating the horse, her uneasy feeling returned. She turned to the saddle, examining it closely for the first time. She saw and traced her finger along the "J H" stamped into the side jockey of the saddle. Jess Harper? Oh dear God, no! With trembling hands, she searched the rest of the saddle for signs of blood, but found none.

Sam opened the saddlebags, discovered and read the ransom note. She sagged to the floor. Oh no no no…this can't be happening again.

She sat on the barn floor for several minutes. Finally gathering herself together she rose and headed purposefully for the house. I will NOT let him do this again. Even if it means I die or he does.

Chapter 5

Slim was at his wits end. Jess had ridden for Douglas several days ago, but still no word. This waiting for a telegram was severely testing Slim's patience. He slammed shut the Overland ledger book, rose and stalked into the kitchen.

"When's supper going to be ready, Jonesy? I've got work to do. Can't wait around all night."

"What's got your tail in a knot?" Jonesy calmly questioned. After only a momentary pause, he added, "You're worried about Jess, aren't you. Why, that boy can take care of himself. You know that." Truth be told Jonesy was as worried if not more so than Slim.

Andy, having finished his school homework, came out of his room, "Supper ready yet?"

"No!" barked Slim, "We'll call you when it is. Now get back in there and finish your homework!"

"But it's done. Why are you hollering at me, Slim?" Andy looked up at his older brother. "First Jess, now you. Why are grownups always so angry?" But then Andy's eyes widened, "It's not Jess is it? Has something happened to him?"

Slim's wrath evaporated as he looked down at the concern in his younger brother's eyes, "I'm sorry, Andy. I had no reason to snap at you. And no, we haven't heard of anything happening to Jess."

"But have you heard anything at all? He usually sends a wire. I still don't understand what kind of business he's off on." After contemplating a moment, Andy gave a shy smile, "Oh, I know. It's that lady vet up in Douglas. He likes her." But then he suddenly frowned. "Doesn't have anything to do with that Steve fellow that was asking after them does it?"

Neither Slim nor Jonesy had told Andy any specifics as to why Jess had left. The two of them worrying was enough. They had told Andy in nebulous terms that Jess had to attend to some pressing matters.

Holding Andy's shoulder, Slim gave him a gentle shake, "Quit your worrying. I'm sure Jess is fine. Probably just too busy to get off a telegram. Now go out and wash up for supper."

Not fully convinced everything was as it should be, but knowing further questioning of his brother would get him nowhere, Andy reluctantly did as he was told.

Looking out from under his bowler hat which was a constant companion to his head, Jonesy quipped, "And you, Slim. You gonna quit your worrying like you told the boy to?"

"Wish I could, Jonesy. This waiting is really getting to me. I need to know. I have this gnawing feeling that something bad is going to happen."

Jonesy stopped stirring the stew, banging the spoon loudly against the rim of the pot. "Well then, why don't you do what your heart tells you to do? And what it's been telling you to do ever since Jess rode out. Go after that boy. Andy and I can take care of the relay teams. And we can call in Benny from the Johnson's farm if anything comes up on the ranch that Andy and me can't handle. Benny's a good strong boy, always willing to lend a hand. But you know that. And you also know we can survive without you for a few days." Jonesy nodded sagely, "Done it before and we'll do it again."

Slim's eyebrows rose as he listened to Jonesy. He knew Jess had grown on the old man. Far cry from when the drifter had first arrived. Back then Jonesy had wanted 'nothin' to do with that saddle tramp; he's nothin' but trouble.' Jess was still often the cause of trouble, but more often than not he was the one to put an end to trouble. He had saved all their hides more than once.

Not really needing any encouragement, Slim smiled at his old friend, "Okay, Jonesy. You've convinced me. I'll head out at first light tomorrow." Feeling relief for the first time in days, Slim sat down at the table.

Andy, returning from washing up, asked, "What's for supper?"

"Mulligan," Jonesy stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh," was Andy's less than enthusiastic reply.

"Why? You got somethin' against my stew?" Jonesy eyed Andy suspiciously.

"Oh no, Jonesy, I like your stew," answered Andy. That was mostly true. The Mulligan wasn't that bad, but Andy got tired of how often they had it.

But anything Jonesy dished up was still better than what Slim fixed. And Andy didn't even want to think about Jess's cooking. It was awful. But that thought put Jess back in his mind. "So when IS Jess coming home, Slim?"

Slim stopped chewing the biscuit he'd just bitten into, "Don't know for sure, Andy. That's why I'll be heading out tomorrow to see if I can move him along. Don't appreciate him gallivantin' around while we're stuck here doing all the work."

Andy smiled, "Good; about time." He knew his brother was only joshing about Jess shucking work, although the dark-haired cowboy did just that when he had a mind to. But for the most part, he was a really hard worker. Plus he was fun to be around.

Jess had brought a lot of joy and light into all their lives since he'd arrived. Andy was happy to hear that Slim might be able to hurry him along. He still felt guilty having given information to that dude off the stage and Jess's sudden departure not long after had planted a nagging seed of concern. Andy would feel a lot better knowing Slim was with Jess. Together, he figured they were just about indestructible.

"Means a lot more work for me and you over the next few days," Jonesy warned, looking over at Andy.

"Oh, I don't mind, Jonesy. Despite what Slim thinks, I'm more than half grown, and am ready to do a grown man's worth of work."

Slim tousled Andy's hair. "So you are, Andy. So you are."

Jonesy looked at the pair. Good set of boys you raised Matthew and Mary. Wish you could still be here to see 'em. Slim, now, well he can be as stubborn as Jess. Wouldn't give a nickel for the difference. Have to give each of 'em a push now and then to get them on their way.

Thinking again on Jess, a nagging worry sprung anew. Just hopin' their way is clear and safe. Jonesy shot a brief prayer to heaven, then dug into the Mulligan.

Chapter 6

Hiding uphill behind some trees, Steve waited several minutes to be sure Samantha had come alone. Not seeing anyone else, he rode down to meet her.

"Hey there sweet thing. I see you did as you were told," he pointed down to the bag slung over her saddle horn.

She responded coldly, "This is only part of it. You know I was worth a lot before I ever came out here. But I've buried some back down the trail and you won't get your hands on it until you take me to Jess."

Angrily he snapped, "That was not part of your orders. You are being a naughty girl."

Having been through this before, she was prepared to handle his ever changing moods. "I know. And you will probably have to teach me a lesson, but after I see Jess."

Steve considered her response for a moment, grinned, and quietly said, "That might just be fun."

A shiver ran down Sam's spine. Good God, if he wasn't totally insane before, he is now. But she meekly followed him as he led her to the cabin.

Jess was just beginning to regain consciousness when they entered the hut.

"Jess!" Sam started rushing towards him.

Before she could reach him, Steve pushed her aside, giving her a hard backhanded slap that sent her flying into the wall. She slumped lifelessly to the floor. Jess, only semi-conscious and facing away from them, couldn't fully comprehend what was happening.

Steve went out and retrieved the money bag. Rifling through it, he found the gun Samantha had secreted within the sack. Frisking her as she laid on the floor he uncovered a derringer and two knives. "Tried to come prepared did you? But you are NOT smarter than me, my dear 'doctor,'" he said derisively.

Leaving Jess where he lay, Steve brought over the other chair, lifted Samantha into it and proceeded to tie her up. Panting a bit, he commented, "You're heavy but at least less so than your paramour over there." He then walked over to Jess and with some difficulty, righted the chair with Jess still in it.

"Aww…you hit your head and you are bleeding." A slow trickle of blood ran from an open cut at the edge of Jess's scalp and down on to his cheek. Steve once again took Jess's chin in his hand. "Must be painful." Without warning, Steve drove the heel of his hand hard into Jess's head wound almost upsetting the chair again. Jess saw stars as his vision faded in and out. "That's for being a naughty boy while I was gone. You obviously need more lessons."

Retrieving a canteen, Steve poured several mouthfuls into Jess. This time slower and without pulling the cowboy's head back. Jess coughed and sputtered, but swallowed most of the life-giving fluid. "Have to keep you going or we would miss out on a lot of fun." He withdrew from Jess and left the cabin. The fire had gone out and Steve knew he'd be needing more firewood.

Jess looked across at Samantha and gave a low groan, more for her than for himself. "Sam, are you okay?"

The familiar resonant voice brought Samantha back to full consciousness. Opening her eyes, she saw Jess bound to his chair. His condition made her gasp. "Oh Jess. What has that devil done to you? You look awful."

"Been better." Pause. "Ya shouldn't of come."

She gave a wan smile, "Couldn't help it. Don't like leaving a patient. Bad for business."

Jess, gave her a soft half smile, "Yeah, heard that before."

"Why did you go with him, Jess? Probably my fault. I should have warned you."

"Weren't time. Thought I was helpin' you. Now know I was wrong. Dead wrong." He looked deep into her eyes, and she understood his implication.

"I thought I would ride in and rescue you. Got that dead wrong too." She returned his deep gaze.

"Hey, don't talk like that. We'll figure somethin' out."

Steve strode in with an armload of firewood. After starting a fire, he approached his prisoners. "Look at you two love birds. Together again."

"What the hell is the matter with you? You're crazy. Let her go," nodding his head towards Samantha, "She ain't done nothin'."

"Don't Jess. You won't get anywhere with him. He'll only hurt you."

"Now why would I do that, my dear, when I have you?" Steve gave her a vicious backhanded slap causing her head to jerk to the side.

"Stop it!" yelled Jess.

"Still learning are you? Still do not know to be silent as I ordered," Steve gave Samantha another slap snapping her head in the other direction.

Jess bit his tongue to prevent another outburst.

"There. That is much better. Now you are learning."

The grin on Steve's face reminded Jess of a mad wolf. Jess glanced over to Sam and saw that although dazed, she was still conscious. I swear to all that's holy, I'll get you out of here, even if it's over my own dead body. And I'll kill him.

"It has been a long day. I think we all need some rest. I am afraid I will have to leave you both tied up. We would not want you wandering around outside in the dark and possibly getting hurt, now would we. We will have more fun tomorrow. I promise." Steve smiled at each of his prisoners, and retired to the cot.

66

The next morning, Steve spoon fed some gruel to each of his captives. "Have to keep your strength up. It is going to be a busy day." Neither Samantha nor Jess wanted to accept anything from his hand, but they did so silently. Each feared he'd teach the other a 'lesson' if they did not eat.

After serving them breakfast, Steve went to the fireplace and seemed to be aimlessly sticking one of the pokers deep into the fire. A chill spread down Jess's back.

"Now then, my dear Samantha, I am going to release you. I need you to go get the rest of my money. But I want you to promise you will come straight back. We do not want any other company, now do we. Do you understand?"

Samantha gazed across with sad eyes to Jess, "Yes."

"Look at me, not him!" Steve roared.

She snapped hardened eyes over to Steve, "Yes, I understand."

"Good, and just to be sure you do, let us have a little lesson."

Steve rose with a red-hot poker in his hand. As he approached Samantha, Jess began desperately struggling to free himself. At the last minute, Steve whipped around to face Jess.

"Oh God, please no," whispered Samantha.

"Oh, but yes. Your God – me – says yes," and he laid the red hot poker along the side of Jess's neck. Jess tilted his head away, but could not escape the burning rod.

Through her tears, Samantha sobbed, "Yes, yes. I'll do as you say. Just stop it!"

The poker was not on Jess's skin nearly as long as the previous ones, and although breathing hard, Jess remained conscious.

"Good girl. Another successful lesson." He untied Sam and helped her to her feet, leading her none too gently to the door. Outside both horses still stood tied to the hitching rail.

"Now go quick, girl. I may have to give more lessons to lover boy while you are away so hurry back."

With a final murderous look at her enemy, Samantha mounted and kicked her horse into a full gallop.

Returning to the cabin, Steve rubbed his hands together. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, more lessons. You know, you have been a very naughty boy."

Jess began to make reply, but stopped as Steve raised and waved his finger, "Unh, unh, ah. If you do not keep silent it will go very hard on our dear Samantha when she returns. Now we would not want that would we?"

Jess clamped his jaw tightly shut. No…WE wouldn't.

The next two hours were purgatory for Jess. His concern for Samantha was paramount. If only she would come to her senses and NOT return to the cabin and this madman. Steve continued to 'teach' Jess, with punishment in the form of a hit to Jess's wounded leg or a slap to his burnt chest. During each 'lesson' Jess held his tongue despite the pain. He could not, however, stop the gasps that involuntarily escaped his throat, nor the sweat pouring out of him, which only caused his cuts and burns to accelerate in pain intensity.

Stopping to feed himself, Steve gave Jess a strangely appreciative look, "I am quite proud of you. You are turning into an exemplary star pupil. So obedient and silent."

Jess had barely the strength to lift his head much less give a retort. Besides, he worried what the consequences to Samantha might be if she did indeed return, which he greatly feared she would.

Because of the abuse, Jess's leg wound had started bleeding again. Steve noted this as he was using a Bowie knife to cut off a hunk of dried beef to eat. "Oh my, that does not look good, does it?" Reflecting a moment, and looking back and forth between Jess's bleeding thigh and the knife, he said, "I think I can fix that."

Jess didn't look at the man. He had shut his mind down, having walled himself into that small room in his spirit which had always allowed him to endure unspeakable pain while conserving his strength for when he might need it. However, he couldn't help but take notice a few minutes later when Steve brought the Bowie knife, now red hot, under his nose.

"Here now. This will make it all better."

Steve laid the knife flat across the injured thigh. Jess's whole body went tense and began to shake. He threw his head back and a guttural cry escaped unwanted from his throat. Continuing to press the knife down, Steve scrutinized Jess's face that was twisted in misery. Jess could smell singing cloth; his jeans were burning as well as his leg. GOD! Can't take much more. But I gotta, if I've any hope of savin' Sam.

Finally lifting the knife, the madman quietly whispered, "There, there, my boy," while gently patting Jess's cheek, "Now, that feels better, does it not?"

Watching Jess's expression relax as he slowly got control of his pain, Steve's face suddenly changed into a malevolent mask of hate. He grabbed a handful of Jess's hair and violently shook Jess's head.

"But you've been a very naughty boy. Taking another man's wife makes you the naughtiest of naughty. Naughty boys should never have families. Never have children who might follow in their wicked ways." Gazing lovingly at the Bowie knife in his hand and shifting into an evil smile, he continued, "But I think I can fix that too." Steve put the still-warm knife on the floor and began undoing Jess's belt.

No, oh GOD NO! This can't be happenin'.

Steve had loosened the belt and was just beginning to unfasten the buttons on the front of Jess's jeans when they heard hoof beats rapidly approaching. Steve sighed, "Ah well, guess we will just have to continue this particular lesson later. Too bad. I was really looking forward to it. But anticipation can be fun too, don't you think?"

Jess's heart was pounding furiously and he heard a loud rushing in his ears.

After putting the knife down on the table, Steve picked up Jess's firearm. "Do not worry, my dear boy, I do not plan on shooting our dear Samantha. Just want to be sure she was obedient and did not bring anyone."

Samantha entered carrying another large sack. She threw it at Steve's feet, "Here. That's all of it." Turning her full attention to Jess, she went pale. Oh God. Why wasn't I faster? He's been at Jess again. She quickly moved beside Jess.

Distracted because he was crouched examining the contents of the bag, Steve didn't see Samantha pull out the hand gun she'd hidden in her blouse. "You bastard."

The venom in her voice made Steve look up. He saw her gun, but he was still holding Jess's. Her hand was shaking with fatigue and rage so her first shot barely grazed him. "You don't deserve to live, you bastard."

From a gunfighter's perspective, Jess thought, Don't talk, just keep shootin' the son-of-a-bitch. My gun has a hair trig…

Jess sensed more than saw his gun fire. With a herculean effort he tilted his chair, knocking Sam to the floor. As she and his chair fell, he felt a searing pain in his left shoulder.

Sam did what Jess had mentally shouted at her. She continued to empty her pistol at the demon before them. A few of the rounds barely missed Jess, but the majority found their target.

Gun smoke and the smell of cordite filled the room. After the deafening sound of gunfire, there was a profound silence. Holding his breath, Jess listened for any sounds coming from Steve. There were none.

He could hear Samantha, behind him, breathing heavily. "You okay, Sam?"

"No, not really. Is he dead?"

"Yeah, he's dead. Can you cut me loose?"

"Give me a moment."

Jess heard, but couldn't see Samantha struggle to her feet, retrieve a knife and proceed to cut the ropes binding him to the chair. Once free, he rolled painfully over to get a good look at her. His heart froze. There was a spreading red stain on her blouse.

She followed his gaze and then pressed hard against her chest wound. "Damn!" She crumpled to the floor.

Ignoring his own injuries, Jess crawled over to her. "He got ya."

"Yes, but we got him," she gave Jess a wan smile. Then looking closer at him, she noticed a bullet hole high on his shoulder. "He got you, too."

Jess glanced down and saw the hole in his shirt. He felt a little wetness on the back of his shoulder. "Nah, it's just a scratch. Bullet went through."

Nodding her head, "That's good. Don't think mine did." After pondering a moment she added, "Thanks for slowing it down."

"How ya mean?"

"The bullet. He only got the one off. You slowed it down some before it got to me. Might be a goner if you hadn't."

That was little comfort to Jess. "What should I do?" He'd treated many a gunshot wound in other men as well as himself, but never a woman.

She looked quizzically up at him. "Haven't you ever treated a gunshot wound before?"

"Well, yeah. But never on a woman."

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Then think of me as a man."

"Can't do that. You're not."

"Oh for heaven sakes, Jess, I'll bleed to death if you don't."

Reluctantly Jess undid her blouse. The wound was low on her chest, under her breast. It was still bleeding. Taking off his bandanna, he pressed it against the injury site. She groaned but confirmed, "Good. First stop the bleeding with direct pressure."

After several minutes, Jess cautiously removed the compress. Although still weeping sluggishly, the blood flow had notably decreased. He replaced the bandana over the wound and Sam put her hand over it to hold it in place.

"Now, get clean bandages, or as clean as you can find. Heat some water, and for heaven sakes wash your hands. They're filthy. But first let me have a look at your leg and shoulder."

She tried to sit up, but collapsed with a groan. The bleeding increased with her movement.

As Jess applied pressure to stem the flow, he had to smile at her feisty spirit. Ordering him around as before; memories flooded in. "Yes, ma'am. Whatever you say ma'am."

Samantha sighed, "I'm being bossy again, aren't I."

"Yes ma'am, but guess ya got the right. You being the Doc." Jess gave her his lop-sided grin.

"Glad we got that straight." She returned his smile. "So do as the doctor tells you and go wash up. We'll tend to your leg and shoulder first. Best to leave those burns open to the air for now."

Obeying her orders, Jess heated some water, washed his wounds as well as his hands. He retrieved the cleanest bandage materials he could locate and brought them over to Samantha who lay quietly on the floor.

Under her scrutiny and instructions, he first bandaged his own aching thigh. She didn't miss his facial twitches, although he tried to hide his discomfort.

"You're in pain. Is the bullet still in there?"

"Yeah, haven't had a good doc around to dig it out. And you're in no condition to try right now, so don't even think it." Jess gave a tight smile, "Besides, don't hurt all that much," he lied.

She wanted to argue the point, but reluctantly had to admit he was probably right.

"At least let me help you bind that shoulder. Get down here where I can get a good look at it."

Jess laid on the floor so she could examine his shoulder. "Good. Doesn't look too bad. Barely bleeding. He didn't get you by much. Bit higher and he'd of missed you entirely." Her hands shook as she helped him bind the shoulder. Damn right I'm in no condition to go digging after a bullet, or tending to much else for that matter.

Finally, Samantha allowed Jess to address her injury. He gently cleaned it as best he could.

"Now what, Doc?"

"Now you get the bullet out of me. I don't want any part of that madman in me."

Jess averted his eyes and quietly said, "Was my gun that bullet came from. Hair trigger. If it hadn't a been, he might not a got that shot off in time. If I'd stuck with my regular gun…," his voice faded off.

Samantha was thoughtful for a moment but then commented, "Doesn't really matter what gun it came from. Bullet must be between my ribs because it hurts like hell to breath. Don't think it's too deep. You probably can get it with your finger."

Jess blanched. Using his finger to remove a bullet in a man was one thing, but doing it on a woman? On Samantha?

Noticing his hesitation, she snapped, "Get with it, cowboy. Right now your hands are a lot steadier than mine. Once you get this slug out of me, I'll be better able to tend to that leg of yours. Didn't like the looks of it. Bleeding it's done probably helped cleanse it some, but that bullet should come out. The sooner the better."

"Yeah, well, let's get you fixed up first, Doc," Jess's voice held a lot more confidence than he actually felt.

He rewashed his hands, wishing he had some whiskey - to steady his nerves as well as to better clean the wounds. His injured thigh was screaming for his attention, but he walled the pain off in a distant corner of his consciousness. Sam is all that counts right now. I ain't gonna let her down. Swore I'd get her outta here. And that's what I aim to do.

After taking a deep breath, and letting it slowly out, he returned to her side and began probing. Samantha clenched her teeth to stifle a cry. She tried to be still, but couldn't help attempting to edge away from the probing finger pressing between, and separating, her ribs.

"Got it!" Jess exclaimed, leaning back on his heels and triumphantly holding up the spent bullet. The wide grin on his face disappeared as he looked down at her. Aw hell, not again. The bullet hole was bleeding profusely. Jess renewed applying pressure. This time Samantha did not groan. She had passed out.

666

Once the bleeding seemed to have stopped, Jess started to bandage Samantha's wound. As he did so the angled light from the late afternoon sun shone through the window onto her bare chest.

What the…. Jess now detected numerous old indistinct scars. Some were round, some straight, some curved. Burn marks! You bastard. Hope you rot in Hell. You're probably already there. Jess gently re-buttoned Sam's blouse, to preserve her dignity and his modesty.

She moved slightly and opened her eyes. She saw the sadness as well as the fury in Jess's eyes. "You saw didn't you?"

"Yeah. He do that to you?" jerking his thumb over towards Steve's body. Jess figured he already knew the answer but needed to hear it from her.

"Yes. Sorry you had to see it."

Jess gave a half smile, "Only sorry I had to see it this way."

Sam halfcocked her head at him, but said nothing.

Several minutes went by. Then Samantha said, "Not like you don't have a few scars, too. Remember, I've seen them."

Jess ducked his head, a bit embarrassed, but then solemnly replied, "Yeah, but them on the outside don't hurt near as much as them on the inside."

Samantha closed her eyes and whispered, "Yes, I know."

More silence followed, as each were lost in painful memories from their respective pasts.

Then Jess asked, "So what the Hel…heck…did ya see in that guy to marry him?"

"Didn't."

"Come again?"

"Never married him. Almost did, but that was a long time ago. He was my first love, but then he changed. Or maybe he'd always been that way and I didn't see it. You always remember your first love and it hurts to lose him, no matter the reason. But my little sister didn't see him for what he was; or what he had become. She married him. After she…passed…he got this crazy idea that I would and did marry him. I never did. He was insane."

Jess looked at her quizzically, "You mentioned a brother, but never said ya had a sister."

"I know. I don't talk about her. Too painful. Besides, I've feared this might happen; Steve might track me down. If he did, it would only be to use me again. Probably stupid, but I thought he might not know I was the right Samantha if I didn't own up to having a sister."

After several minutes of silence, Jess quietly asked, "How'd she die?"

Samantha gazed into his compassionate eyes. She suspected he'd already half guessed the answer.

"It was Steve. He used me against her and her against me, just like he used you and me. Only…only…she didn't survive." She turned her head away and began to weep.

Jess laid down next to her and gathered her into his arms. "I got ya. Let it out."

Despite their pains, both were exhausted and soon, huddled together, they fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter 7

Slim stopped in Laramie only long enough to alert Mort he'd be away from the ranch and to find out if there was any news concerning Jess. Mort said he'd keep an eye on the ranch and relayed Jess's information including Steve's description.

He reached Douglas in the early morning and went first to the livery. Slim had made it to Douglas in record time, as a sweating and hard-breathing Alamo testified.

"Rub him down good and give him extra feed. He deserves it." Slim flipped a two-bit piece to the stable boy, who took charge of Alamo.

His second stop was the Sheriff's office.

"No, don't know as I've seen anyone matching that description. Oh wait, there was a fancy dresser talking with Doc Fuller the other day. But can't say if he had a scar by his eye or not. Wasn't paying too much attention to him, just to the gun slick that was with them."

Slim raised his eyebrows, "Did you get either of their names?"

"Don't rightly recall if the dude gave me his name. Gun slick called himself Jess Harper. 'Course don't know if that's his real name. Couldn't find a wanted poster on him. I looked."

Slim scowled, "There aren't any wanted posters on him because he's not wanted and he's not a gunfighter. He works for me on my ranch, and even sometimes sits in as deputy for Laramie's Sheriff, Mort Cory."

The Sheriff scratched absently at his two-day growth of beard. "Hmm, Cory, think I've heard of him. I haven't been in the territory too long. Still learning about folks. But this Harper, he sure looked like a gunfighter. Had on a low-slung tied-down rig."

Quickly losing interest in trying to convince this lawman of Jess's sterling character and feeling pressed for time, Slim inquired where he might find Doc Fuller. Following the lawman's directions, he easily located her place. Hard to miss since the shingle out front gave both her name and occupation.

Slim's knock on the door went unanswered, so he headed down to the barn. There didn't appear to be anyone there either. As he was about to leave a horse raised its head and whinnied. It was dim in the barn, but there was something familiar about the horse which caused Slim to approach it.

Upon getting nearer, Slim saw the star on its forehead and recognized Traveller. He also took notice that the stall needed cleaning out. Knowing he currently had higher priorities than shoveling manure, he simply moved Jess's gelding to a nearby clean stall.

As he moved him, Slim took notice of the stitches on Traveller's wither. Looking more closely at the injury, he gave a low whistle.

"Geez, boy, how'd you do that?" Suddenly a ripple of dread surged through Slim's body. "Where's Jess, Traveller? Where's Doc Fuller?" The bay turned his head towards the well-known voice but could give no answer.

Leaving the stall, Slim observed a familiar saddle: it was Jess's. He exited the barn and walked rapidly to the Sheriff's office.

"When did you last see Jess?" Slim demanded, slamming the jailhouse door behind him.

"Whoa, there. What seems to be the problem?"

"Just answer my question!"

"I will if you tell me what this is all about."

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Slim relayed what he knew to the Sheriff.

"That's not much to go on, so I wouldn't get too upset."

Slim bit his tongue to keep from saying what he thought of this newly appointed lawman.

"Last I seen 'em, both Harper and the fancy-dressed fella rode out of town together. Seemed friendly enough."

"When?!"

"Hold on. Let me think. Maybe a day or so ago. Or maybe three. Don't rightly recall. Just know I was glad to get rid of 'em."

"Do you recall which direction they went?"

The Sheriff, though not caring for the rancher's tone of voice, thought a moment, then answered, "East, I think."

With increasing impatience Slim asked, "Where's Doc Fuller?"

"Wasn't she at her place?"

Slim tried to contain his exasperation, but his "NO or I wouldn't be asking!" came out a bit too loud and too harsh.

The Sheriff studied him, but then smiling, stated, "Well…she's probably out doing some rounds on the farms." He again scratched at his beard. "But come to think of it, I haven't seen her all day. Don't recall if I saw her yesterday or not."

Although not feeling it, Slim threw a half-hearted "Thanks" over his shoulder as he stormed out and headed to the livery.

Since Alamo was pretty much spent, Slim hired a horse and took off heading east out of town. The road had too many tracks to easily find just two or maybe three sets traveling together.

Damn. Wish Jess were here to track for me. Heck he IS here, just not here here. I'm making no sense. Think. If this Steve guy was looking to do harm, they'd probably not stay on the road. When I asked that stable boy, he said the two rode out in the late afternoon. That would mean they'd have to make camp not too far from town. He kept scanning the sides of the road as well as looking for possible spots Jess might use for an overnight camp.

Through luck and determination, he found a pair of tracks leading off the road. He followed them and found the first camp. Praying this was indeed Jess's trail, he pushed on.

By early evening he found the second camp. The bodies of the three outlaws were still there as were a number of shell casings near the cold campfire. Jess's hat, jacket, boots and gun belt were also present, but the gun was missing. He picked up Jess's possessions and stuffed them into his saddle bags.

Damn, Jess. What happened here? He found and started following two sets of hoof prints. The tracks were now in a single file rather than side by side, suggesting one of the animals was being led. Hope this doesn't mean what I think it means. But another chill of foreboding washed over him.

As night fell, tracking became impossible. Reluctantly, Slim knew he had to make camp and continue in the morning. Even Jess has trouble tracking in the dark.

Chapter 8

Near morning, Jess awoke to something wet on his hand. Aw no, not again. Raising stiffly onto his elbow he saw Sam's wound was bleeding. She was much paler then the night before.

Nah, this ain't right. I gotta get her to a Doc. I ain't doin' enough. As he pulled away and started to stand up, his injured leg let itself be known. An agonizing spasm swept up to his hip and dizziness almost took him back to the floor.

Stumbling, his foot jostled her slightly. She looked up at him, "Jess?"

Once again firmly locking his body's complaints away in a far corner of his mind, Jess collapsed to his knees, "Yeah, it's me." He reached for the canteen that lay nearby and helped her take a sip.

"Hmm…that's good." She felt drowsy, only taking in half of what Jess was saying.

"We have to get ya outta here. You've started bleeding again."

Her eyes were still half closed, but she murmured, "First I need to look at that leg of yours."

With some difficulty, Samantha opened her eyes. Concentrating, she tried to clinically appraise her companion. "Jess, you look awful, and you're sweating." As he took her hand, she noted the heat radiating from him. "You're burning up!"

"Yeah, well, been better."

Through a thick haze she thought: This can't be good. Jess's 'I'm fine' means he's hurt. 'Been better' means he's really sick or really hurt. Trying to sit up but falling back in a daze she asked the stock 'doctor to patient' question, "Where do you hurt?"

"Be a mite sight easier to tell ya where I don't hurt," he told her with a tight, sad smile.

"We've got to get you out of here, Jess."

"I just done said that. I'm going to re-bandage ya, then see about rounding up the horses."

After re-dressing Samantha's wound, Jess got shakily to his feet and wobbled to the door. Damn! I really have been better!

Jess didn't have far to look for the horses. They were still tied to the hitching rail. As he untied the larger mount, he staggered, falling against the horse's side. Startled, the gelding side stepped away from this strange man. The horse smelled blood. He didn't like that. Plus he was thirsty. He side stepped faster and backed up yanking the reins out of Jess's weakened hands.

Grasping the hitching rail was the only thing that kept Jess on his feet. He watched as the loosened horse made a bee line to a small water-filled barrel. Forgetting about the larger mount, he carefully approached the smaller one.

"Easy girl. Know I don't look or smell the best, but I really need your help. Got a lady inside that also needs your help."

The smaller mount, though not thrilled with this man, was more used to odd odors, including blood. After all, her owner was a vet. She allowed Jess to lead her over to the rain barrel and took a much needed drink of water. The horse appreciated that some human, any human, had finally seen fit to see to some of her needs.

As the pair approached the barrel, the larger mount had snorted and taken off at a fast trot out of the yard. "Good riddance. Probably couldn't a handled two of ya anyways."

Samantha's mare allowed Jess to hang on to the saddle as they walked slowly back to the cabin.

"I'll only be a minute, girl. Wait right here." Jess took the precaution to solidly tie the reins to the hitching post.

Samantha was blessedly unconscious when Jess went to pick her up. Although small, she was mostly muscle, like Jess, so was heavier than she looked. "Dang, woman. Now I know how Slim feels when he tries to pick me up." Jess stumbled to his knees, but struggled back to his feet. Sam was a dead weight that rubbed against his burnt chest and pressed against his sore ribs.

Should a thought to find a shirt to put on. Least woulda covered the burns. But the only one he'd seen was Steve's bloody shirt. Unh unh…ain't no way I'd put anything of that bastard's on me. Even if it was clean. What am I sayin'? Ain't nothin' touched that guy that's clean. Jess looked sadly down at his burden, "Exceptin' you, Sam."

Jess's leg throbbed unmercifully. His chest and neck still burned and his head was swimming. Dadgum it all. Ain't felt this bad all over in a month of Sundays. Jess struggled to get Samantha sitting in the saddle, but she was out cold and couldn't assist.

Jess realized what little strength he had was rapidly ebbing. Plus he knew he couldn't get himself into the saddle to support her. The patient horse had looked around several times as if to ask why her master was having so much trouble mounting up.

"Sorry Sam, but this is the only way." As gently as he could, he laid her face down over the saddle. Having been this way himself a time or two he knew it was far from the most comfortable way to ride a horse.

Staggering back into the cabin, he looked down at the dead man and spit on him. "You worthless piece of shit." Neither Andy nor Slim were around, so Jess knew he didn't have to watch his mouth. But this put Slim back in his mind. Aw, Slim. Where are ya, Pard? Could sure use a bit of help about now.

Spying his gun still clenched in Steve's fist, Jess yanked it free. "That's mine, asshole. For better or worse its mine." He shoved it hard into the front of his belt which made his chest and ribs protest. Geez…can't a fella get a break?

He retrieved some of the rope that had held him prisoner, and took it out to securely bind Samantha to the saddle. "Sorry, but would be worse if ya slipped off. And I ain't too sure I could get ya on again if you did."

Jess had not found his jacket or his boots in his brief search of the cabin. Bastard probably left 'em all back where he clubbed me, wherever that was. Hell, I don't even know where we are now. Head downhill I reckon.

He was cold even though sweat dripped off him as he started leading the burdened horse. Stones and branches soon began to bite through his thin socks. His chest burned and the wound in his thigh screamed "STOP" with every step he took. But he couldn't stop. He had to get Samantha to a doctor. God I feel rotten….God? A little help please?

The horse sensed all was not right with her owner, so she calmly and quietly followed this stranger. Often the man pulled heavily on the bridle's headstall to stay upright. The horse tolerated it. When the man began to stagger from side to side, occasionally stop, fall to his knees and then use the reins to get back up, the mare helped by gently lifting her head. When the man started to whisper, "Gotta get the Doc to a Doc…gotta get the Doc to a Doc…" over and over, the horse pricked her ears forward to hear the soft words. Every now and then the man would chuckle while he repeated those words.

Realizing they were not taking the quickest way back to her barn, the horse redirected the man by gently pulling him on to the faster path. The man didn't notice, he was concentrating on only one thing: "Gotta get the Doc to a Doc…gotta get the Doc to a Doc…gotta get the Doc to a Doc…."

Chapter 9

After a restless night, Slim resumed tracking at dawn. He found the cabin that afternoon. The door was ajar. Slim entered carefully with gun in hand. His face fell as he saw the dead man, overturned chair, ropes, and…blood.

At least the body, Slim knew, wasn't Jess's. Turning the dead man over, he noted the burn scar by the man's right eye.

"So you're Steve. Don't think it's a pleasure to meet you."

He left the body where it lay. As with the earlier three dead men, Slim couldn't take the time for the niceties of burials.

It had been a while since any rain had fallen, so the ground was dusty and the tracks leading away from the cabin were easy to see.

One horse being led by a man… in stocking feet? Slim laid his hand lightly on the saddlebag containing Jess's boots. Jess! The worry that had been gnawing at him took full root. He swung up into the saddle and urged his horse into a fast trot.

I'm coming, Pard. Just hold on.

99

It's gettin' dark. Or is it? Maybe it's night. Maybe not. Gotta get the Doc to a Doc…gotta get the Doc to a Doc…. One step. Just one more step. Jess was falling down more frequently, but he kept getting doggedly back up on his feet. Most of his nerve endings had started singing to a new song he'd never heard before, but he wouldn't listen. Just one more step. Just one more. That'll get us there. Gotta get the Doc to a Doc…gotta get the Doc to a Doc.

The mare he'd been leading twisted her ears back and gave out a welcoming whinny as she sensed the approach of another horse.

Slim had become increasingly concerned as the footprints had turned bloody and there were signs the man was barely keeping on this feet. Indeed the fellow had dropped to his knees more times than Slim cared to count.

His gelding suddenly lifted his head and returned a whinny. Looking up from the tracks, Slim saw what he'd been searching for. A small horse, with some kind of sack tied to its saddle, was being led by a man.

Jess! It's Jess! Thank you Lord! Racing up and sliding from his saddle, Slim saw that the sack was actually a person.

He ran up and touched Jess's arm, but Jess ignored him, continuing to trudge on, "One more step. Gotta get the Doc to a doc…gotta get the Doc to a Doc…gotta get…"

Slim grasped Jess's arm, causing Jess to slow in his stride, but he still leaned forward trying to pull Slim with him, "Lemme go. Gotta get the Doc to a Doc…gotta get the Doc…"

Slim held fast, "Jess, it's me, Slim. I'm here."

Dazed, Jess slowly looked up trying to focus on this apparition, "S..lim?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Thank God," Jess murmured. He waved his arm in the mare's direction, "Sam. She's hurt. Get her to a doc, will ya, Pard?"

"You don't look too hot yourself."

"Been better," Jess started to collapse, but Slim caught him. Jess let out a hiss, as Slim's arms grabbed him on his burnt chest. Noting Jess's pain, Slim readjusted his hold, which caused Jess to moan as Slim unintentionally pressed on his sore ribs.

"Come on, let's get you both to a doctor." Slim got Jess on to the saddle, leapt up behind him, and tied down the reins from Samantha's horse.

There was no way to totally avoid Jess's injuries, though Slim did his best as he supported his friend. "Going to be a bit of a rough ride for you, Pard."

"Beats walkin'," Jess mumbled. Then giving Samantha's and his care over to the person he knew he could trust with their lives, Jess lost consciousness.

Chapter 10

"How is she, Doc?" asked a worried Jess.

"Well, I'd say she's better than you, but that wouldn't be saying much."

"Whadda ya mean be that?"

The doctor took pity on the earnest young man, "She's doing fine considering the amount of blood she lost. The bullet nicked a small artery, so when she moved around it opened up and bled"

"My fault. I shouldn't a tied her down like that over the saddle."

"On the contrary. The way you tied her down put pressure on the wound like a compress and kept the bleeding at bay until I could stitch her up. You probably saved her life."

Jess thought about that, but wasn't sure he believed it and took little comfort from the doctor's words.

"Can I see her?"

"Maybe in another day or two. You've just recovered from a bad fever. Been out of your head the last two days. You need your rest, so I don't want to see you out of this bed. Call the nurse if you need anything."

As the doctor left the room, Slim started to enter. "Heard Jess was finally back with us. How's he doing?"

The medical man hesitated a moment, but then ushered him in, "On the road to recovery, but you shouldn't visit too long. Only a minute or two. No longer. He needs his rest."

Slim gave one of his sincere smiles to the doctor and went to Jess's bedside.

"I wanna see Sam, Slim."

Slim's eyebrows rose. "Well that's a fine hello and thank you for bringing you to the doctor."

"Okay, thanks. Now, I wanna see Sam."

"What's the big hurry? Neither of you are going anywhere soon. She's just two doors down. She's doing fine. And as the doctor said, you need your rest. You had us worried for a while."

Jess filed away the 'two doors down' detail, ignoring the rest of what Slim had said. "I gotta see her to be sure."

Trying to distract him, Slim abruptly changed the subject, "What exactly happened? Doc Fuller has given the Sheriff some information, but she's been a little vague, and doesn't have all the details on you since she apparently wasn't with you the whole time. And the Sheriff says when he was in to see you a little while ago, you were less than forthcoming in answering his questions."

Jess took note of the change in subject matter. He didn't like it. He could usually tell if Slim was lying, but why wouldn't anyone let him see Sam? Exactly how bad was she? Looking hard at Slim and responding to his friend's comment, Jess snarled, "None of his goddamn business."

Jess is certainly in a temper.

This time Jess changed the subject, "How's Andy and Jonesy?"

"They're fine. I wired them after I got you settled in here."

Jess shifted to find a more comfortable position but failed. The movement only caused a bolt of lightning to shoot through his left leg. He grabbed it fiercely. "Damn that hurts!"

OK, it's the pain causing his less-than-agreeable mood. "It was your leg wound that caused your fever. Looks like somebody tried to take care of it but they never took the bullet out. 'Course didn't help any, you walking on it for miles."

"Take care of it my ass. And the walkin' couldn't be helped. Had no choice."

Slim frowned at the first statement, uncertain who or what Jess was referring to. "Was it Steve who took care of your leg?"

Jess just stared down at his bed without responding.

"Guess you needed your gunfighter weapon after all." A pained look flashed across Jess's face, but he still didn't respond.

Time to drop it. Jess will tell me if or when he's ready.

"You having to walk, yeah, I know: 'Gotta get the Doc to a Doc. Gotta get the Doc to a Doc'."

Jess's eyes shot up, "You heard that? Thought I only thought it." He paused hearing what he had just said.

"No, you said it out loud. Would've been kind of hard not to hear since you said it over and over again."

"Seemed kinda funny back then. You know…get a Doc to a Doc. Kinda funny even now." With a twinkle back in his eye, Jess looked at Slim, and they both started laughing. Jess quickly grabbed his ribs. "Dadgum, that hurts too."

"Not surprising, you got several badly bruised ribs."

Hearing the laughter, the doctor hurried into the room, took Slim by the arm and guided him through the door. "Out."

Slim raised his hands in surrender, "I'm going, I'm going," but winked back at Jess, "See ya later, Pard."

"And you," the doctor pointed an accusatory finger at Jess, "this is NOT what I meant by resting."

"I thought laughter was good for a body?" Jess snickered giving the doctor a wicked smile.

Rolling his eyes, the doctor left the room.

10 10

Hours later, in the dark of night, Samantha was awakened by someone lighting her bedside lamp and whispering, "You awake?"

"What?" she responded groggily, slowly coming up out of a sound slumber.

"How ya feelin'?"

"Jess?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Thought the doctor said we weren't supposed to get out of bed."

"We're not. At least you're not. Well, maybe me neither. But no matter. He can't stop me from seein' ya."

Fully awake, Samantha edged up onto her elbow, despite a wave of dizziness. She eyed her night-time visitor up and down. "I see that."

After a pause, she added, "You going to a toga party?"

"A what?"

Samantha gestured at the bed sheet wrapped around Jess's whole body. Even with a throw over one shoulder.

"Oh this. They done stole my clothes. Couldn't find 'em. Wasn't gonna go around half-naked, so came up with this idea. Pretty clever, huh." With a boyish grin, he shuffled in a slow circle, proudly showing off his novel creation.

"Very original," Samantha raised her hand over her mouth, partially disguising her snort as a cough. "You're looking a lot better than the last time I saw you. So how are you feeling, Jess?"

"Bit sore here and there. I'll be fine. Feet hurt though. Mind if I sit?" Not waiting for a response he hobbled over, grabbed a chair, dragged it back to her bedside and sat.

"Sorry for wakin' ya, but I had to see for myself that you were here and alright. Not takin' no…not takin' any medical doctor's word for it."

"Oh? Do you have more faith in a veterinary doctor, perhaps?"

His eyes twinkled, "Yes, ma'am; at least those of the female variety."

God but I love this man. Nothing will probably ever come of it but deep friendship, but I love him all the same. He is such a walking oxymoron: boyish enthusiasm but with an ancient's wisdom; strong but gentle; hard as steel but compassionate; feared enemy but trusted best friend. He never gives up or gives in and can joke in the face of pain and adversity. He has a spark and joy of life that is truly rare.

Taking her hand between his, he broke her reverie.

"Gotta ask ya somethin'. The Sheriff and the Doc, and even Slim, want to know more about what happened and why. Not sure what to tell and what not to tell. Would prefer to tell 'em little to nothin'. None of their business now that it's over. Mostly I've been tellin' 'em to ask you. Is that alright?"

She thought she understood, but to clarify, she said, "If you're asking if I want the world to know the details about Steve, my sister or me, the answer is no. But please don't hold back any information that might get you into trouble or cause problems for Slim or anyone else. I think our Sheriff still considers you 'that gun slick,' despite what Slim has told him, and doesn't fully trust you."

"Has happened before – me being not trusted by a lawman. No skin off my nose. As to the rest, I'd prefer to keep my mouth shut. What happened, happened. There ain't no …there's no goin' back. Can only go forward."

"Agreed."

"Mind if I stay with you a while? You're pretty special to me. Saved my bacon more than once. Makes me feel better seein' ya with my own eyes; knowin' you're gonna make it."

"You know, Jess, I could say the same thing about you and mean every word." She smiled at him, "No I don't mind if you stay. In fact, I'd like it if you did."

Jess gave her a lop-sided smile.

And that's how the nurse found them as she came by to check on the patients. Samantha lay in bed with one hand clasped between both of Jess's. Jess, wrapped in a bedsheet, was sitting in a chair drawn up close to her bed. They were both deeply asleep. Willing to face the doctor's reprimand, the nurse left the two as they were and quietly closed the door. Sometimes there's more healing in the touch of another than in all the medicines in the world.

The End

Oct 2017