One little lie

by Saddletramp

When Laura Mae Mason tells one "little" lie, it pits the entire town of Laramie against Jess Harper and threatens to destroy the new and yet fragile relationship between best friends . Due to overwhelming requests, I have changed the rating to "T". I thought it should be "M" due to content but there is nothing graphic or explicit.

ONE LITTLE LIE

When Laura Mae Mason tells one "little" lie, it pits the entire town of Laramie against Jess Harper and threatens to destroy the new and yet fragile relationship between best friends.

O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive! – Walter Scott

Warning: Violence, language, adult themed (nothing explicit) Just felt it crossed the line too far to be rated "T"

ONE LITTLE LIE

He lay curled up in the dirt of Laramie Road, clutching his aching ribs, waiting for the symphony of pain to subside. Mentally, he cursed long and loud, railing against the good citizens of the town of Laramie. No, he hadn't seen their faces. The cowards had hidden behind handkerchiefs and hoods. But he recognized some of the voices. Yes, those good, pious, church going, stand up citizens of Laramie had beaten him, let him know he wasn't welcome in their town; and if he dared to return, he'd receive the same again - or worse. However, the greatest pain wasn't physical. It was the agony of betrayal by his employer, Slim Sherman. The man Jess had come to call friend, the man he had given his trust to – had stood idly by as the crowd had pulled him from his horse and beaten him before leaving him lying, bloody and bruised, alone, in the dirt. There'd been no mistaking his boss. The 6'3" slender blond stood head and shoulders above the crowd. He had stood there, arms crossed, and done nothing.

The dark haired cowboy tried to stand, but found his body refused to comply, so he lay there, waiting until he could breathe normally; could see through his swollen eyes. "Why, Slim, why?" he cried out to no one. "What'd I do? Why didn't you try to stop them?"

He'd been beaten before. He'd been run out of towns for being a gunman. He'd gotten into fights and sometimes deserved the whomping he'd received. But this time he was bewildered. He'd been in Laramie for several months. Although some were still wary of him, he had seemed to be accepted by the townspeople. Except for the occasional bar fight and one shooting, he'd kept his nose clean and worked hard on Slim's ranch. He had no idea what had occurred to incite a bunch of vigilantes to ambush him. His first inkling anything was wrong came when a lasso dropped around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides. The next thing he knew, he'd been jerked off his horse and the crowd had surrounded him, beating him nearly senseless. He was still trying to find the answer when he felt himself slip into unconsciousness.

Ironically, it was Laramie's sheriff, Mort Cory, who found him. "Jess!" the sheriff cried out. "Jess, boy, who did this to you?" He was beside the town's newcomer in an instant, rolling him over, checking him for injuries. In the short six months since Jess had been in Laramie, the two had formed an uneasy friendship. Jess was leery of anyone wearing a badge; Mort was leery of anyone with a checkered past and wore their gun low and tied down. Yet it was the sheriff who gave him water, washed the blood away from his face and tried to make him comfortable at the side of the road. It was the sheriff who stayed with him until he regained consciousness.

Mort jumped to his feet as Slim Sherman rode up to them and stopped. Grateful for assistance, Mort called out "Slim, Jess needs help." When there was no answer, Mort turned to Slim and was shocked by what he saw. Slim's face was a mask of fury and contempt as he looked down at the injured cowboy. Slim's voice was icy as he spewed out his answer. "Let him be, Mort. He don't deserve no better. He can die there as far as I'm concerned." With that, Slim kicked his horse into a canter and continued on towards the Sherman Relay Station as if the conversation had never taken place. Mort stared after him, totally blind-sided by the rancher's cavalier attitude towards the man he had so recently called friend.

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Slim stormed into the bunkroom where Jess normally slept. Ruthlessly, he stripped the room of anything belonging to Jess and headed towards the fireplace, intent on destroying everything which reminded him of his former friend and employee. He stopped at the last second, returning to the room and stuffing the clothing into a single shelf of the cupboard. He leaned against the door, his head hung in shame. "Oh Jess, what have I done? How could I let them go this far? You were wrong buddy, so wrong to do what you did. But no one deserves what they did to you." He was as close to tears as he had ever been. He hadn't cried since his parents died and he wasn't about to cry over losing the friendship of some no account drifter who had turned his life up-side down. He berated himself for allowing the crowd to beat Jess so severely. He berated himself for wanting to help in the beating. He berated himself for doing nothing to stop the damage inflicted on the man he had once called his friend. He berated himself for trusting the one time gunman; for welcoming him into his home. But most of all, he berated himself for allowing the firebrand to become important to himself and his family. Betrayal could not be forgiven and it now left an ugly rift in the fragile friendship of the blonde rancher and the dark haired drifter.

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"C'mon, Jess." Mort said as he helped Jess stand up. "Let's get you home." Jess pulled back, looking at Mort with sorrowful eyes. "I ain't got no home no more." He held a hand up to stop the Sheriff's protest. "You seen Slim. Just get me up on Trav. I'll take care of myself like I always done."

Mort looked up as Jess sat Traveler, hunched over the saddle horn, still cradling his stomach. "Jess, you're hurt. You need medical attention."

Jess shook his head and turned Traveler away before looking back and saying: "Been good knowin' ya, Mort. I'll be on my way now. You ain't gotta worry none 'bout me. I was a drifter before, I can be one again." He looked wistfully in the direction of the relay station. "Thought this was gonna work out. But I guess it wasn't meant to be."

"But, Jess, what happened between you and Slim?"

Jess shook his head. "I don't know, Mort. I just don't know." With that he kneed his horse into a walk and rode away without looking back.

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Laura Mae Mason lay in bed, the covers tucked in around her. The slender young woman was fair skinned, her blonde hair splayed out across the pillow she lay on. She slowly emerged from the doctor's sedation. When she saw she was back in her own bed she started to cry. She was afraid; very afraid. She'd lied – to the doctor, her father and mother, the minister, Slim – to everyone. As far as the town knew, she'd been dating Slim Sherman; had accepted his marriage proposal and was making wedding plans. No one knew she'd secretly been seeing the Jamison boy from Rawlings. It was Tommy Jamison she'd snuck out of the house to meet with. It was Tommy she had slept with. She'd never been with Slim in that way but needed to keep his allegiance to her, to marry her; it was what her parents and society expected of her. But she also needed to protect her lover because she wasn't about to give him up.

Slim would provide the home and respectability she needed in order to maintain her place in proper society. After all, as the banker's daughter, certain things were expected of her; namely marriage to a respectable man; and Slim Sherman met every expectation for a prospective husband. Tommy provided the excitement she craved. It was Tommy who had encouraged her to accept Slim's overtures and marriage proposal. Tommy wasn't the marrying kind, but he had no problems entertaining a woman behind her fiancé's or husband's back. Tommy enjoyed knowing he had bedded several of Laramie's more "upstanding" women. The danger of being found out only added excitement to his clandestine trysts.

Laura Mae had panicked when her father sought to blame Slim for putting her in the family way. Without thinking, she'd blurted out Jess Harper was father to the baby she had just lost. She told them Jess had seduced her, his sole intent on stealing her away from Slim. He'd met her in secret where he had convinced her he loved her more than Slim ever could; and she had given herself to him. He had turned her head with his dark good looks and promised to marry her; take her to the most exciting places - but now he was abandoning her; casting her aside after finding out she was pregnant. She admitted to having been a willing participant. After all, she didn't want Jess accused of assaulting her – only blamed for her current predicament. Her original plan had been to keep Tommy's baby a secret until she and Slim had married, passing the child off as Slim's; but she had miscarried and there was no hiding that.

Normally, the family's shame would have been carefully hidden; as if it had never happened. Unfortunately for their honor, Laura Mae had very publicly collapsed in the general store and had to be carried to the doctor's office. Although they tried to pass it off as just a fainting spell, rumor and innuendo soon found the truth of the matter when Edmond Mason's boisterous ranting called for avenging his daughter's honor, albeit, blaming the wrong man for the misdeed.

When Slim had come to see her, she had cried and begged for forgiveness for having been weak and falling for Jess' charms. He'd promised to still marry her, to make a life together. He would give Jess the boot as soon as he got home. He wouldn't tolerate having the worthless bum under his roof for another night. Laura Mae was content with that. She'd have Slim's good name and keep her place in society. After all, Harper had seduced her; even the old biddies of Laramie wouldn't put her down with the honorable Slim Sherman by her side. She'd still have Tommy - and Jess Harper would move on to another town, none the wiser about being blamed for something he had no part of.

Laura Mae had no idea how enraged her father had become. Driven by societal propriety, family honor and a host of other familial obligations, Edmond Mason and a group of well meaning citizens had ridden out of Laramie in search of the former gunslinger. They wouldn't kill him; just teach him a lesson about trifling with a woman's honor and virtue. Some who rode with the group honestly wanted retribution for what was done to Laura Mae. But others had it in for Jess, having been on the losing end of a few of the bar room fights. They knew better than to let him use his fists or gun. It was they who laid in wait and roped the unsuspecting Harper, jerking him from his horse for the men to mete out their punishment. Sherman had been there; arriving after learning of the vigilante group and following them. He'd wanted to get his licks in on behalf of Laura Mae. But by the time he worked his way to the forefront of the group, Jess was already a beaten, bloody, broken mess with no fight left in him. He'd turned then, leaving the group and returning to town. He had no qualms about leaving the saddle tramp lying in the road where the town folk had caught up with him.

Slim had ridden back to town to assure Laura Mae that Jess would never bother her again. That's where he was coming from when he came upon the sheriff by Jess' side. For his part, Mort Corey had been headed into town, totally unaware of the day's happenings culminating in the beating of Jess Harper. Puzzled by both Sherman and Harper's words, Mort watched Jess ride out of sight before returning to town where he was quickly filled in on the town's gossip.

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There was an uneasy quietness at the Sherman home that night. Jonesy, expecting Jess to join them for supper set the table as usual. The empty plate was a glaring reminder someone was missing. Slim had snapped at Andy when the youth had inquired about Jess' whereabouts. When told Jess was no longer welcome and was never coming back to the ranch, Andy had run from the table, slamming his bedroom door. He worshipped Jess and his heart was breaking at the thought of never seeing him again. He couldn't believe Jess had left without saying good bye. His anguished sobs could be heard through the closed door.

"What?" Slim snapped at Jonesy. "Oh, nothin'." He'd answered as he picked up the coffee pot and returned to the kitchen. "Just wondered what that varmint got into this time to put a burr under yer saddle."

"None of your business." Slim shouted as he left the table, slamming the door behind him as he went outside. Even while feeding the stock, Traveler's empty stall was a bitter reminder of the emptiness which had settled upon the ranch. Slim's horse, Alamo, repeatedly looked around, seeking his stable mate. Slim wished he could explain that Traveler wouldn't be coming home. Home. Slim realized he had already considered the ranch to be Jess' home. Angrily Slim forked hay into the mangers while seething over his former friend's betrayal. Jess seemed to have been happy over Slim and Laura Mae's engagement. Then how could Jess have gone and seduced Laura Mae with empty promises - only to leave her when he found out she was in a family way. Slim couldn't believe Jess would be so cruel as to steal his fiancé; so callous as to purposely bed an inexperienced young woman. Jess had always treated women with the utmost respect, but maybe he hadn't seen the real Jess. How could he have been so wrong about the former gunslinger?

Slim couldn't, no wouldn't blame Laura Mae for falling prey to Jess' seduction. With his good looks, lithe body, blue eyes and dark hair, he was sought after by many of the town's women. And it was Jess' unknown but potentially dangerous past history that made the lure of being with him so desirable. Maybe Jess couldn't help being dangerously attractive to the fairer sex. But he blamed well could have reined himself in when it came to Slim's fiancé. Slim was glad to be rid of Jess Harper and the problems which followed him around like a black cloud. Even as he thought those thoughts, Slim missed the man he had come to call his friend.

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With Jess no longer around to help with chores, Slim began to rely upon Andy's help. Although young, Andy was a good horseman and willing to help as much as he could. Therefore, Andy was assigned the task of checking fences. He'd take note of what need to be fixed and report back to Slim who would then take care of it.

Andy was riding the south pasture when he pulled up short. Grazing out in the meadow was a bay horse he recognized. He turned and rode for the nearby line shack, certain he would find his hero there. Andy exuberantly burst into the cabin, his joy immediately turning to fear. The cabin was dark; there was no fire in the fireplace, the stove was cold and there was a strange, oppressive, feeling in the air that raised goose bumps on his arms. Andy jumped when he heard the low moan emanating from the bunk in the corner. "Jess!" he cried out upon seeing the lone occupant. Jess was lying on the bunk, back to the room, fully clothed, and curled into a fetal position. Andy rushed to Jess' bedside but stopped in horror upon seeing the sad state of his friend. Jess' lip was split and swollen, his eyes sunken and blackened. Multiple bruises in various stages of healing were visible. Jess was sweating profusely in the cold cabin and unresponsive when Andy rolled him onto his back; shaking him; only uttering another low moan. Andy swallowed the lump in his throat. Jess was hurt – and hurt bad. Instinctually, he turned and ran for his horse, galloping recklessly towards home.

"Jonesy!" Andy hollered multiple times as he came to a stop by the porch. Sliding from his horse he ran into the house still shouting Jonesy' name. The older man met him in the doorway, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. Calmly he spoke to the excited teen. "Now, hold on there Andy. What's got yer britches set afire?" Andy grabbed onto Jonesy's arm, dragging him towards the outside. "It's Jess. He's hurt bad. You gotta come, Jonesy, you gotta save him." Jonesy disengaged his arm from Andy.

"What you talkin' about boy? Jess is gone – done run off to the Big Open again."

"He ain't, Jonesy, he ain't. He's out to the south line cabin, Jonesy. I just seen him. He's hurt – hurt bad!" Reading the look on Andy's face, Jonesy knew the boy was telling him the truth.

"You go hitch up the wagon, Andy. I'll get my medicine kit."

Jonesy knelt beside Jess. He and Andy had removed Jess' jacket, gloves and gun belt, trying to make him more comfortable. Jonesy was alarmed at the amount of heat radiating from Jess' body and when Jess showed no sign of consciousness, only emitting an occasional moan as they settled him on the bed. Jonesy opened Jess' shirt and became further alarmed at the mass of swelling and bruises covering Jess' torso. "Good grief, boy." he addressed the unconscious man. "What the blazes have you gotten yourself into?" With Andy's help, Jonesy sponged cool water over Jess' face and body, hoping to bring his temperature down. . He moved restlessly in his fevered state; fingers twitching and legs moving. "Slim." He called out. "Why, Slim? Why aren't you stopping them? Slim, help me. What'd I do? Why, Slim, why?"

It was several hours later when Jess' fever broke but he still didn't regain consciousness. Worried, Jonesy sat back in his chair, keeping a watchful eye on his patient. Jess' words echoed through his thoughts. Slim? Slim had something to do with these injuries? Slim had allowed this to happen? Jonesy shook his head. Nothing was making sense. Slim had been storming around the ranch for days; his temper flaring at every little thing. Jess was here in the cabin, alone. One thing was clear; Slim was mistaken when he said Jess had taken off for the Big Open – because here he was in the flesh. Jonesy remembered that it had all began the day Jess didn't come home for supper – and Slim had said he was no longer welcome at the ranch. Jonesy ' pondering was interrupted when the door crashed open. Slim stood silhouetted in the opening. Jonesy could see the barely contained anger within Slim as he strode across the room towards the bed. He grabbed Andy away from Jess' side, carelessly pushing him out of his way. He turned his fury on Jonesy.

"What's he doing here? I want him gone! I'll kill the bastard if he's still here when I get back." With that, Slim stormed out of the line shack, slamming the door behind him. Shocked, Jonesy followed, indicating for Andy to stay behind and take care of Jess. Slim had stormed out to the lean-to that served as shelter for the horses. He didn't turn around when Jonesy stopped beside him.

"Slim, whatever are you taking on so for? What could Jess have possibly done for you to treat him this way?"

Jonesy was taken aback by the fury pent up within Slim"The son-of-a-bitch seduced Laura Mae and got her pregnant, that's what!" shouted Slim. Jonesy paled visibly; speechlessly trying to absorb what he had just been told. Slim's anger seemed to leave him as he leaned against one of the walls, his head down. "He purposely set out to take her away from me. He promised to marry her and take her away from here, show her a great time in the big city. He preyed on her innocence. But when he found out she was carrying his child, he abandoned her. The stress was too much, she was too fragile and she lost the baby."

Bewildered, Jonesy started to ask. "Um, Slim, there's no possibility . . ."

"NO!" Slim's reply cut him off. "We were waiting until we got married. We never slept together.

I want him gone, Jonesy." Slim's voice was low, no longer containing the fury of only moments earlier. "I want him gone – tonight."

"I understand, Slim." Jonesy had replied. "But it ain't gonna happen tonight. He hasn't even regained consciousness. How'd he get so beat up?"

"Laura Mae's father and some members of his church taught him a lesson."

"Did you?"

"No." Slim answered sadly, not turning to look at Jonesy. "But I didn't stop it either. They already had him on the ground when I caught up to them. I stood there, Jonesy. I stood there and watched them beat him to a pulp. And then I waded in to add my licks to his lesson." Slim's voice caught. "By the time I got to the front of the crowd, Jess was barely conscious, so I didn't touch him. I just left." Slim slumped against one of the upright timbers; his voice full of remorse as he continued on. "I left him there alongside the road; twice. Once when I left to go tell Laura Mae that Jess wouldn't bother her no more and then again when I passed Mort and him on my way back home." He turned to look at Jonesy. "I shouldn't have done that. But I was so angry after seeing Laura Mae again; seeing how scared she was. I was just so angry I couldn't look at him. I need him gone, Jonesy. I need him gone before I get mad again. Twenty four hours, Jonesy. Twenty four hours and he has to be gone. If he's still here when I check tomorrow night, I WILL kill him." With that, Slim mounted his horse and rode away.

Jonesy let out a long breath. His mind was whirling with what Slim had just revealed. He was at a loss to reconcile the dark haired drifter he had come to know and a man who would purposely take his best friend's future wife. He shook his head again. He still couldn't make sense of any of it.

When Jonesy returned to the cabin, he was pleased to see Jess talking to Andy. It was clear he was still in a lot of pain, but he was alert and responsive. "How ya feelin' boy?" He asked, not surprised to get Jess' standard answer. "Been better." Jonesy laughed and set about putting the fixings for supper together. After supper, Andy went out to take care of the horses before lying down in front of the fireplace and drifting off to sleep.

Jonesy took the opportunity to go over Jess' injuries again and treat those that needed it. Jess swore when Jonesy dabbed his foul smelling, home-made liniment on one of his open sores and brushed his hand away. "Leave me alone old man. They'll heal without you putting liniment on 'em."

Jonesy scoffed "You deserve it you young varmint. Doing Slim that-a-way." Jess' arm dropped away from Jonesy'. His piercing dark eyes sharply focused on Jonesy. "What'd you say?"

"I said you deserve everything you got and more. If I'd a known what you did afore I treated ya, I might not been so ready to take care of ya. Now I'm just going to get you well enough to send you on your way. After you getting' that young girl in the family way – and doing it on purpose to prove to Slim ya could, well then I ain't got no sympathy for anything that's happened to ya."

Jonesy found his wrist clamped in an iron grip as Jess raised part way up out of the bed. "What you sayin' old man? What girl? Prove what to Slim?" Jonesy pulled his arm from Jess' grip before answering.

"Why, Laura Mae, of course." He said, shaking a finger in Jess' face. "You knew she was betrothed to Slim but you had to satisfy your ego and seduce her just to prove you could; and then when she found herself in the family way, you left her high and dry. You outta be ashamed." Jonesy harrumphed; satisfied he had gotten to say his piece.

Jess' voice was rough as he growled "What in the hell are you talking about? Laura Mae? Slim's Laura Mae? I ain't never touched her. I'd never do that to him." Jess sank back down onto the bed."You mean you never met with her on the sly; promised to take her exciting places?" Jonesy questioned, a theory starting to form; one he didn't like the looks of as he remembered Jess' fevered ramblings. Jess was looking at him as if he'd sprouted a second head. "Jonesy, you know I ain't got two nickels to rub together. You know I ain't got no clothes but what's on my back and a spare shirt that ain't even fit to go courting in. Why would the banker's daughter want to meet a broke cowboy who couldn't even buy her a dinner out, let alone take her exciting places?" Jonesy rubbed the back of his neck. He was becoming as confused as Jess seemed to be."Ya never promised to marry her and take her away from Laramie?"

"Where would I go, Jonesy? I was a drifter when Slim took me in. I've got nothing to offer; let alone take on a wife. I've barely been here long enough to call Laramie my home." He paused, realizing what he had just said. "Well, it was home." He said sadly. "Guess it ain't no more. But I swear I never touched Laura Mae." Jonesy patted Jess' shoulder understandingly before pulling the covers up over him. He walked away, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. He believed Jess. He believed Slim. He believed they each believed what they had told him. Problem was, both stories couldn't be true and there was only one person who could provide the answers.

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Slim answered the knock at the door, surprised to find Edmond Mason standing on his doorstep. Slim quickly invited his future father-in-law in, seating him at the table and bringing coffee for both of them. He waited to see what Mr. Mason had to say. Mr. Mason fidgeted with his coffee cup before beginning.

"Slim, Laura Mae says you still want to marry her. I came to see if that is true."

Slim nodded his head. "Yes, I told her we'd still be married. It wasn't her fault what that. ." He stopped before he swore in front of Mr. Mason. "That Harper seduced her. She believed his lies. I know Jess is charismatic and the women fall over themselves on account of him. They are in love with the idea of being in love with him. I'm sure there was no love involved on either side. No, it wasn't her fault – it was his."

Mason reached over and patted Slim's arm. "Good. Good." He said. "Then maybe you will be receptive to what I ask. Given the circumstances, Laura Mae would now rather have a quiet wedding; just family in attendance. Would that be alright with you?"

Slim nodded his agreement.

"And soon," Mason continued. "But not too soon. The doctor says it will be a couple weeks before she'll be healthy enough to get around. Perhaps we could set the date for the last Sunday of this month? That's three weeks from now."

"That would be fine with me. Let me know what you need me to do." Mr. Mason stood up, shook hands with Slim and left; promising to get back with him shortly with the details.

It was early the next morning when Mort Cory rode into the Sherman Relay Station. Slim welcomed him warmly. They had been friends a long time and even ridden together during the war.

"What brings you out here so early, Mort?" Slim asked. Mort looked at the ground for a moment, seemingly uncomfortable before looking at Slim and saying.

"I came about Jess Harper."

Slim's grin faded to a frown. "What about that no good drifter?" he spat.

Mort was puzzled by Slim's reaction. "Well, I thought I might catch up with him. That was a bad beating he got. I can't prove it, but I'm sure Laura Mae Mason's father instigated it. And, Slim, I gotta ask about your participation in it."

"Why?" Slim ground out. "The worthless saddle tramp file a complaint? He's got nerve after what he did."

Mort was perplexed. This was a side of Slim he had never seen. Slim was always the calm, level headed one. Maybe it was different because it involved his fiancé, but Mort had a feeling there was more to it than that.

"No, no he hasn't filed a complaint." Mort said, lifting and then resettling his hat on his head. "I haven't seen him since I helped put him on his horse a few days ago. I just need to ask him a few questions. He said he didn't live here anymore but I thought maybe he was just concussed; thought maybe he'd turned up here after all." He paused, noticing Slim's rigid stance and hardened facial features.

"That bastard knows better than to show his face here ever again. Andy found him squatting out on the south pasture line shack. I gave him until tonight to vacate. If he's still there when I go check, I'll kill him, Mort. I swear I'll kill him outright."

Mort placed his hand on Slim's arm. "Now, Slim. You can't be going around taking the law into your own hands like the vigilante group did. If what she said about Jess is true, it makes him a mongrel, but it doesn't make him a criminal." Slim jerked his arm away from Mort's hand, answering Mort bitterly.

"He deserved every ounce of that beating. What he did is lower than low. He took advantage of her innocence. She couldn't help herself, listening to his smooth lies; promising her the world. She may have given herself to him, but it was under false pretenses and it's just as bad as if he had . . ."

"No, Slim. Don't say that. If he did what he is accused of it wasn't right, but it wasn't that. She gave herself to him, she admits it. You can't make it what it isn't."

"I can make it any blamed thing I want." Slim stormed. "She was engaged to me and he took her only to throw her away when she became pregnant. Who does that, Mort? Who takes a woman's innocence, leads her on with lies and then abandons her? I don't understand, Mort. I just don't understand."

"I don't either," admitted Mort "but it still only makes him a cur, not a criminal."

"Well, he's out to the south line shack if you want to find him. At least he was there last night. I don't know where he is now – and I don't care." With that Slim turned and went to the barn, leaving the sheriff standing in the yard.

Slim sagged against the barn door. It wasn't true. He'd lied to the sheriff and he'd lied to himself. Mason might have been within his rights to teach Jess a lesson, but no one deserved the type of beat down inflicted upon the man. He did care where Jess was. In spite of everything – including his own threats to kill Jess on sight – when he was calmer, he honestly wished him no harm.

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Jonesy answered the knock at the line shack door to find Mort Cory standing there. "Jonesy." Mort nodded in recognition. "Is Jess still here?"

Jonesy stepped back, allowing the sheriff to enter and gestured to the bed in the corner. "He ain't doing too well, Mort. They hurt him bad. I tried to get him to the doctor but he won't go." Jonesy stopped, and looking at Mort, asked in a bewildered voice. "Saaay – what are you doing here anyway? And how'd you know he was here?"

Mort removed his hat and sat in the chair at Jonesy' invitation. "Slim told me. I need to talk to Jess a minute if he's up to it."

"You can ask me if I'm up to it." Came a voice from the corner. Jess slid the covers back and started to sit up. Jonesy was at his side, supporting him as swung his legs off the edge. Jess brushed him aside, cradling his bandaged ribs as he stood up and slowly made his way to the table; taking the chair across from Mort. The small effort had brought beads of sweat to Jess' face and his breathing was irregular. "What'd you want sheriff? I ain't done nothing so why are you here?"

"I need to know about the beating. Who did it and do you want to press charges?"

Jess snorted then grabbed his side at the pain it had caused. "Who did it? Why it was your fine, upstanding Laramie citizens. They couldn't face me like the men they purport themselves to be. No sir, they came with handkerchiefs over their faces or wearing hoods. They roped me from ambush and jerked me off my horse; kept my arms pinned to my sides so I couldn't defend myself. Then they got a hold of me and held me down while they took turns beating me." He paused a moment to catch his breath before continuing on bitterly. "And my good friend, Mr. Slim Sherman just stood there, watching it all happen; didn't do anything to stop them. He's the only one I can positively identify, but he didn't lay a finger on me as far as I know. I know who the others are but I can't prove it; can't identify them in court"

"Do you know why they attacked you?"

Jess looked at Mort before answering, a deep sadness in his eyes. "I swear Mort, I never touched that girl. Until Jonesy told me, I didn't even know why they'd beaten me. I've never even been in the same room with her alone, let alone had time to seduce her. What kind of person do you think I am that I'd do that to my best friend?" He stopped and shrugged his shoulders before carrying on. "Well, he used to be my best friend. Don't matter now. As soon as I'm able, I'll be moving on. There's nothing left for me here now anyway."

Mort shook his head and put his notebook away. "I'm sorry Jess. I wish there was something I could do for you."

"You can. Leave me be so I can go back to bed." He stood, still cradling his ribs and turning, shuffled back to the bed where he lay down with a groan. Mort watched his slow progress across the room. He had never seen Jess like this; had never seen him admit to being in pain. But there was something else. There was no "spark" in Jess. The beating had taken more out of him than he was willing to admit.

Jonesy followed Mort out to his horse. "Mort." He began. "There's something about this whole situation that don't make no sense."

"I'm listening, Jonesy." Jonesy lifted his bowler and scratched his head before settling it back on. He shoved his hands into his back pockets before continuing.

"I've been with Jess since Andy found him here at the line shack. He was in a bad way. He could have died being out here alone. He had a high fever. All the while he was delirious he kept calling out for Slim. He wanted Slim to help him; kept asking why they'd beat him. Mort, just like he told you in there, I don't think he had anything to do with this whole thing." He paused for a moment before continuing on again. "I talked to Slim. He swears there's no chance he's the father. Now, it seems to me if Jess isn't the father and Slim isn't the father, then our little Miss Laura Mae Mason might not be telling the whole truth to the matter." He let out a sigh. This had been building up in him since beginning to treat Jess's injuries.

"I agree, Jonesy." Mort said, shocking Jonesy. "There is something not quite right about this whole thing and I can't quite put my finger on it. But, unless Miss Mason changes her story, Jess is going to be blamed for putting her in the family way. Under the circumstances, it's probably better that Jess move on. The town won't take kindly to him being around after this." Mort stopped and shook his head. "I kind of hate to see him leave Laramie, it looked like he might really be settling down."

Jonesy nodded his agreement. "He was, Mort. He really was. Oh, sure, I give him a rough time. I sure as heck thought Slim was crazy when he invited that drifter to stay at the ranch. But the boy's got sand. He's never been anything but supportive of Slim. And, he's a good ranch hand. Got those mustangs eating out of his hand so-to-speak." Jonesy stopped and looked at Mort with his head cocked and pointed a finger at the sheriff. "Now, don't you go telling that young varmint I said that 'cause I'll deny every word of it."

Slapping Jonesy' shoulder companionably, Mort laughed. "I know." He said. "He kind of grows on you doesn't he?" With that, Mort mounted his horse and rode away.

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Jonesy was relieved when Slim didn't come out to the cabin that night or the next, or even the next. He didn't really think Slim would harm Jess, but he didn't want to be the one standing between the two men if it came to it. He'd been back to the ranch a couple of times to replenish supplies and leave meals for Slim to reheat. But he hadn't seen Slim. He assumed Slim was busy with both the ranch and relay station work.

Jonesy returned from one of the trips to the ranch to find Jess packing his saddle bags. "Here, now, just where do you think you're going?" He'd asked.

"It's time I move on, Jonesy." Jess had said turning to face the elder man. Jonesy could see Jess was still in pain. "I've taken up enough of your time and I thank you for taking care of me. But Slim ain't gonna like it if he finds me here again." He turned towards the door only to find Jonesy standing between him and it.

"Now, you listen here you scalawag." Jonesy started, shaking his finger at Jess. "I didn't fix you up so you could go out gallivanting around and messing yourself up again."

Jess smiled a crooked smile and stuck out his hand for Jonesy to shake. "It's been good knowing you, Jonesy."

Jonesy reluctantly took Jess' hand. Making eye contact, he pleaded. "Give Slim a chance to cool down. He'll realize you had no hand in this. He'll see, Jess, he'll see that he was wrong."

Jess shook his head sadly. "It's too late, Jonesy. Even if Slim realizes his mistake, it's too late. I trusted him and I thought he trusted me. Friends just don't do that to one another. Besides, the town won't let me live here. No matter what happens, I'll forever be the villain because of that girl's lies." He hung his head, sighed a deep sigh. Then, he looked resolutely to the horizon outlined by the open door. "No matter what, there's no place for me here anymore." He stepped around Jonesy and proceeded to fasten his saddle bags and bed roll to the back of his saddle. Settling onto his horse, Jess nodded to Jonesy. "Tell Slim." He looked away, starring at the horizon. Jonesy thought he heard a catch in Jess' voice. "Tell Slim I'm sorry." Before Jonesy could answer, Jess had lifted his reins and moved away in a ground eating trot without ever looking back.

CHAPTER TWO

Over the next few weeks, things settled back into their old routine. Slim split his days between working the ranch and relay station and spending time with Laura Mae. Laura Mae was recovering well and was extremely attentive to Slim, assuring him how wrong she had been to ever believe Jess' lies. She was contrite and played up to Slim's natural protectiveness. Their wedding plans were on track for the end of the month.

Edmond and Mrs. Mason glowed over having Slim as their future son in law. In private, Edmond gloated over having taken young Harper to task and dealing with him appropriately, assuring himself the drifter would never repeat his repugnant behavior. Yes, he was quite pleased at having avenged his daughter's honor.

As for Jess Harper, he drifted, alone, for a few days. He was trying to deal with the heart ache of leaving the first home he'd had since he was 15 years old. He'd forgotten what it was like to have a roof over his head every night; to have a stable for his faithful mount. He had enjoyed the hard work and having regular meals. Most of all he had enjoyed the family atmosphere. It was Andy latching onto him so quickly which had made him stay. Perhaps he reminded Jess of the younger siblings he'd lost. Slim hadn't taken to him so quickly, but after Baxter's Ridge, they had begun a tenuous friendship; slowly building each other's trust bit by bit. Jonesy had taken no pains to hide his displeasure about Jess living with them. The older man had given him the "evil eye" more than once. But after the first month in residence, Jess began to realize the old man's haranguing was just a façade. But now, it was all gone. Laramie lay behind him and the Big Open lay in front of him. Drifting, with no destination in mind, is how Jess arrived in the small town of Rawlings.

Dirty, ribs hurting, tired and hungry, he put in at the livery stable. Pulling the last of his change from his pockets, he paid for his horse to be stabled, getting permission from the owner to spend the night in the hay mow. Jefferson Landis, the owner, figured any man who took care of his horse's needs before his own was trustworthy enough to sleep on the premises.

Come morning, Jess set about cleaning the stable. Mr. Landis was surprised and pleased to find morning chores had already been completed when he arrived. He found Jess sitting atop a bale of hay, mending a harness. Landis watched as the cowboy's hands molded the leather and stitched it with practiced ease. He studied the young man before him, finding it curious for someone who wore his gun low and tied down to have cared for his horse so thoughtfully the prior evening, and now had cleaned the stable, fed the horses and was doing repairs without being asked - and with no promise to be paid.

"You had breakfast?" Landis asked, eyeing the newcomer. There was something about the young cowboy which made Landis know he was more than an ordinary saddle bum.

"Naw, not hungry." Jess lied. He hadn't eaten in two days. He just didn't want to admit he'd spent his last dollar to pay for Traveler's stabling. His stomach growling loudly gave him away.

"Uh, huh," Landis muttered. He took the harness from Jess' hands. "You just go on through that there door and ask for Mrs. Landis; she'll feed ya." When Jess hesitated, Landis shooed him on "Go on now. She'll be a waiting for ya. I told her to expect ya. She gets mighty touchy when her food gets cold."

Jess smiled gratefully and headed off towards the indicated door. Mrs. Landis was indeed waiting for Jess to appear for breakfast. The table was loaded with ham and eggs and biscuits. But what gave him the most satisfaction was the cup of coffee she offered. He sighed contentedly as he savored the flavor before letting the hot liquid slide down his throat. He'd been out of coffee for so long he'd almost forgotten what it tasted like. He thanked her as he stood to leave. She touched his sleeve before he turned to go. "You bring me your dirty clothes and I'll have them cleaned and back to you before nightfall." She had stated.

"I'd be most obliged; ma'am, but I can't pay you."

"Pshaw," she'd answered. "Jefferson saw the way you were working out in the stable without being asked. I expect he has some plans to keep you around if you're of a mind to stay a while. Feeding you and cleaning your clothes will be part of whatever deal you two work out."

Jess smiled before tipping his hat to her and heading back to the stable.

"Jess," Jefferson began "I've got a proposition for you. I don't know how long you planned on hanging around, but if you've a mind to, I could use a hand here at the stable. There's a bunch of work I can't do no more; things like fixing the roof, some siding repair, lots of harness repair – stuff like that. Can't pay you much but could count feed and stabling for your horse as part of the deal." He laughed softy to himself before continuing, a twinkle in his eye. "And, I'll just bet the Missus promised you meals and laundry as part of my deal." Jess laughed with him. "Yes, sir, she did at that."

"I'm sorry we don't have an extra bed for you. But if you don't mind the hay loft over much, it's yours if you want it. 'Course there's always the boarding house at the end of the street if you'd rather."

"No. No, the hay loft will suit me just fine." Jess answered and the two men shook hands.

Over the next couple of weeks Jess' ribs healed well and he worked hard at accomplishing the tasks Mr. Landis needed done. He kept to himself and most people didn't even seem to notice him. By night he'd either stay at the stable or spend the occasional evening playing poker at one of the saloons, slowly building his stash towards the time he'd have to be on the road again. It wouldn't be long before winter would be upon them and the loft wouldn't be warm enough.

Jess was leaning against the door frame, deep in thought when Mr. Landis came up beside him. He observed Jess for a moment before saying. "Go home, Jess. Whatever it is, go home and work it out."

Jess shook his head sadly before looking at the distant sky and answering softly. "I got no home to go to." He turned and went back to work before Jefferson could pry any further.

It was during one of the nightly poker games that Jess began to hear rumors. One of the locals would occasionally get inebriated and start spouting off about his nocturnal exploits. Jess brushed it off as bravado until he began to hear the town of Laramie tossed into the braggart's ramblings. As the man got drunk, the louder and more boastful his declarations became. It was when he laughed about his current love interest having blamed a hapless drifter for fathering her baby that Jess began listening in earnest

Jess sat at the back corner table and seethed with rage as the story was told. It was like living the whole event all over again, culminating with his beating. So this was the man responsible for all his woes; for being blamed for something he'd had no hand in. Other than beating the man to a pulp, which would only satisfy his own anger, Jess knew there was nothing that could legally be done to punish the braggart. He rose to leave before he was too tempted to shove a fist down the man's throat, when the man's words struck a chord within him. He hesitated, wanting to be sure he had heard correctly, but yes, there is was – the braggart's girl was getting married in two days time. She was marrying a Laramie rancher but wasn't about to stop seeing the boastful drunk.

Jess sat back down, not believing what he had just heard. It had to be Laura Mae Mason he was talking about. Everything fit – the pregnancy, the blame put on an innocent man, Laramie, the rancher, the wedding – but the worst of it was she would be betraying her marriage vows to Slim. Jess gripped his whiskey glass so hard it burst. Glad that no one noticed, he slipped out of the saloon. He laughed in spite of himself. Slim must be rubbing off on him. Instead of plowing into the situation, guns and fists ready, Jess had retreated to think through what he should do with his new knowledge.

Jess spent a restless night tossing and turning, pondering what to do. No matter what solution he came up with, he knew no one would believe him – especially Slim. There was nothing illegal about what the couple was doing, but it burned Jess that Slim was being played the fool. He didn't know why he cared, but he did.

The morning light found Jess saddling Traveler, his gear already stowed behind the saddle. Jefferson stepped into the livery, eyeing everything speculatively. "You going home?"

"Ya. Got unfinished business and I intend to finish it."

Jefferson nodded his head in agreement. "That's good Jess. I knew something's been eating at you since you landed here. Good luck, son, and if you ever need a place to stay, my door is always open."

Jess turned to shake hands with Mr. Landis. "Thank you, sir. I'm much obliged for you taking me in these past few weeks. I'm sorry I'm leaving with no notice, but it's urgent."

Jefferson nodded his understanding. "Be safe, boy. Be safe."

Jess rode out but didn't head towards Laramie. He'd learned the braggart's name was Tommy Jamison and it was his intent to take Tommy back with him. Tommy was the only person beside Laura Mae Mason who could clear his name. For all the years he'd been on the drift, Jess had never worried about his reputation or what people thought of him. Now, clearing his name was all important to him. He deserved a clean name; to be able to walk down the street without being vilified for something he hadn't done. Part of him wanted to see the self righteous citizens eat crow for what they'd done to him. But overriding everything else was his concern for Slim. Slim deserved better than a two timing wife.

Now he sat on a knoll, watching and waiting for Tommy. His quest to return Tommy to Laramie had found its own solution when Tommy bragged about how he would attend his girl's wedding to the beguiled rancher. He recounted how they had made plans to meet as soon as she could slip away from her new husband. Just thinking about how Laura Mae was playing Slim made Jess sick. He was going to do his best to stop the wedding, but he needed Tommy for that. Therefore, Jess followed Tommy as he headed for Laramie and his planned dalliance with Slim Sherman's wife. Tommy took the main road, unaware he was being followed. Jess followed along more slowly. He had already identified Tommy's horse's hoof prints. He wouldn't lose Tommy even if Tommy turned off the road. Jess followed Tommy's trail all day and made a cold camp when Tommy stopped for the night. He woke up early and was back on the trail before daylight broke.

As he rode into Laramie, Jess could hear the congregation singing. He turned his horse and proceeded down a back street, paralleling the path he knew Tommy would take to get to the small church at the edge of town. As he approached the building on foot, the parishioners began exiting. Church was over. Jess knew Slim's private wedding would commence shortly. It was another detail Tommy had let slip – the ceremony would be immediately after the church service. He needed to find Tommy – and find him fast.

Too late he caught the movement behind him. As he spun to confront his assailant, something crashed into his still healing ribs and sent him flying into the dirt. He fought back the nausea as he curled into himself, trying to alleviate the pain. Through pain filled eyes he saw Tommy standing over him, a broken board grasped in his hands. "Stay down, Harper, if you know what's good for you." He placed the ragged, broken end against Jess' compromised ribs and leaned heavily on it. Jess bit back the cry which tried to escape him. Tommy laughed softly. "Ya, I know who you are, you piece of trash. I'm going to fix you real good. I'm going to take you in there and tell them how you planned to ruin the wedding. They'll take care of you for good; I won't have to lift a finger. . . .And I'll still have Laura Mae."

"You filthy liar." Jess ground out. A surge of energy flowed through him. He twisted, grabbing the board at the same time and shoving it up, caught Tommy under the jaw. Tommy's head snapped back. He shook his head to clear it. That was all Jess needed to get the upper hand. A couple well placed blows brought Tommy to his knees. Jess grabbed the stunned man by the collar and half dragged, half walked him into the open doors of the church. He shoved Tommy forward so hard that he fell and rolled several feet down the aisle.

Laura Mae screamed Tommy's name. Leaving Slim standing at the altar, she ran to Tommy, crying his name over and over as she knelt at his side. Everyone else stood transfixed, unsure what they were witnessing. Slim looked at Jess, rage clearly visible in his body stance as he started towards his former employee.

Jess was having problems breathing as he rasped out. "You might want to call off this here wedding." He staggered backwards, using the doorframe for support, arms wrapped around his ribs. "They been playing you, Slim." He got out between labored breaths. "Twas him ya'll need to be a talking to." Jess closed his eyes, forcing away the darkness threatening to overtake him. He could taste the blood welling up in his mouth as he staggered out of the church.

Suddenly there were supportive arms around him, keeping him from falling. "I always said you ain't got sense enough to come in out of the rain. Just where do you think you're going in the state you're in?" Jonesy chided Jess. "C'mon you saddle tramp, let's get you to the Doc before you collapse out here on the street." Jess nodded in agreement, secretly grateful for the helping hand.

Jonesy paced the doctor's office, fearful for the young cowboy lying in the next room. He'd been coughing up blood by the time they'd reached the doctor's office and had passed out before the door opened to admit them. Dr. Hanson had looked down at Jess distastefully. "It's a good thing I took the Hippocratic Oath." He mumbled as he helped take Jess into the examination room. The doctor had ushered Jonesy out of the room hastily. That was enough to give Jonesy pause. He'd seen Jess' lips turning blue as he struggled to breathe. It wasn't good. No, it wasn't good at all.

After what seemed like hours, the doctor stepped out into the waiting room. Jonesy anxiously awaited the doctor's news. "Slim's not here?" Dr. Hanson asked, looking around the room for the blonde rancher. Then remembering the events of a few weeks prior continued. "No, I guess he wouldn't be at that, would he."

"Well, is he going to be okay?" Inquired Jonesy; unwilling to wait any longer. Jonesy saw the look of hatred that crossed the doctor's face before he spoke.

"Yes, he'll recover." Dr. Hanson said with an edge to his voice. "But as soon as he can be moved, I want him out of here. After what he did. . . ." The doctor's tirade was cut short by an angry Jonesy getting up in his face. Although short in stature, Jonesy could turn fierce when defending his family.

"Now you listen here, Dr. Know-it-all; Jess didn't have nothin' to do with what happened to Laura Mae Mason. She lied and that's all there is to it. If you'd have been down to the church just now you might have found out for yourself. That girl's been playin' Slim for a fool. It was Jess here who brought it all out in the open. Good thing too. Slim and that gal was just about to say their 'I do's'." Jonesy backed off, straightened his vest and bowler, daring the doctor to say another word against Jess. When there was no response, Jonesy relayed what all had happened at the church only a short time before. Dr. Hanson gave a low whistle after hearing the whole story.

"Now that you know the truth, how's the boy doing?" Jonesy reiterated.

This time Dr. Hanson's demeanor was much better. "A broken rib punctured his lung. He'll be okay but he's going to need a lot of rest until it heals. Forget what I said earlier. He really shouldn't be moved for several days. Question is, where will we move him to? I don't imagine Slim will allow him back out to the ranch. There's too much water under the bridge. It's too bad a simple lie led to all of this. It destroyed three sets of lives – The Masons, Sherman and Harper. What a shame." He paused for a moment before continuing on. "You can go on in, Jonesy, he's sedated but I know you'll want to check on him." With that, Jonesy entered the recovery room to sit beside Jess' bed.

When Jonesy emerged a few hours later, he was surprised to see Slim sitting in the waiting room. Slim was bent over, his forehead resting on crossed arms, resting on his knees. He looked up when Jonesy touched his shoulder. It was easy to see the absolute misery written in Slim's eyes. Slim took a deep breath and leaned against the back of the settee, staring off towards the ceiling, yet seeing nothing. "How could I do this, Jonesy? I've ruined everything." He looked down and rubbed his hands nervously up and down his thighs. "I should have trusted him. I knew something wasn't right. I knew it. But everyone convinced me I was wrong to believe in him; to trust him instead of my fiancé. So I stood by and did nothing, nothing at all." He turned to look at Jonesy. "He'll never forgive me." He looked away again. "How could I let it get this far?" he asked of no one in particular. "Do you think he'll let me see him?"

Jonesy sat down beside Slim, resting a fatherly hand on his shoulder. "He won't be seeing anyone tonight. Doc drugged him pretty good. He's going to be kept out until the morning. There's no hurry tonight, Slim. You need to think this through; what you want to say to him when you do see him. He's not only hurt physically, but emotionally too. His trust with us and the town was fragile, still being built; but now after being accused of something he wasn't even a part of, I just don't know. I don't know if anything will fix it. It isn't just you that needs his forgiveness; the whole town owes him. You're the only one who might get him to stay, but the truth is, I just don't know if there's enough forgiveness left in that boy."

Leaning against the window sill of Jess' hospital room, Slim stared out at the morning sun. At some point he'd started talking to himself softly; unaware he was even doing so. His ramblings were full of recriminations.

"I'm sorry, Jess. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have listened to them. I knew better. If I've learned anything over the last six months it's that you never lie. But you never got a chance to explain, did you; never got a chance to face your accusers. Edmond was in such a rage he did things he shouldn't have. But I'm no better. I was so angry when Laura Mae accused you I didn't stop to think. If I had, I'd have known you would never have seduced her. You treat women with too much respect to have done that. I'm so sorry, Jess. I don't know how to ask your forgiveness; to ask you to come back to the ranch. Come, home, Jess, we want you to come home." Slim rested his forehead against the window pane.

"Well, you can start by knocking off that caterwauling."

"I am not caterwauling." Slim responded angrily before spinning around, realizing Jess had spoken. "Jess!" he said, taking the seat beside the bed. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Should I call Dr. Hanson?"

"Slim, shut up, will ya! You act like I'm at death's door. It's just a scratch." Jess was making light of the situation but Slim saw the grimace cross his face as he tried to catch his breath.

Slim couldn't stop the relieved sigh which escaped him. Jess was talking to him and treating him like it was just another day; downplaying the seriousness of his injuries. Slim was afraid to ask if Jess would come home. Instead he patted Jess' shoulder and left, saying he was going to get Dr. Hanson.

Slim hovered behind Dr. Hanson as he examined Jess. He was beginning to realize just how much Jess meant to the whole family. Andy had barely spoken to him since the night he'd found Jess at the line shack. Even without understanding what had caused the rift, Andy had been in Jess' corner from the beginning; blaming Slim for siding against Jess and sending him away. Jonesy hadn't been much better. He'd warned Slim to listen to reason; to find out the facts instead of going off half cocked. Jonesy had been right – again. Slim discovered he missed Jess' presence at the ranch. Although he had been the brunt of most of Jess' pranks, it was good to let loose and laugh again. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't carried the full weight of running the ranch and relay station. With Jess there, he had someone he could count on to share the burden; someone capable and willing to help with the heavy work.

But now Slim was afraid it was all over. He knew their friendship had been fragile. Jess wasn't one who trusted easily and had only recently seemed to be getting comfortable at the ranch. There was now a ready smile and hearty laugh that hadn't been there in the beginning. Slim shook his head. It was his fault. He had destroyed the friendship by jumping to conclusions.

He spent the next few days at Jess' bedside, unwilling and unable to leave his side until he knew Jess was out of danger and healing like the doctor expected. They had finally gotten the okay to move Jess back to the ranch.

Slim stopped on the doctor's porch, his attention attracted to movement in town. Sadly, he watched as the Mason family loaded their luggage onto the outgoing stage before climbing inside. They were leaving Laramie for good. Laura Mae's lies had destroyed their lives, forcing the family to leave and try to start over somewhere they weren't known; somewhere they didn't have the town gossiping behind their backs. Slim didn't know what had happened to Tommy Jamison. He had heard Tommy was run out of town and told to never come back. He certainly wouldn't be seeing Laura Mae ever again.

Even though everyone "knew" Edmond Mason had been the ring leader of the vigilantes who attacked Jess, there was no proof. The other members were too ashamed or too frightened to divulge any information which would lead to the prosecution of Mason and themselves. Without any proof, and at Jess' insistence, the matter had been dropped.

With a heavy heart because of Laura Mae, but a lighter step, Slim strode down the steps and rode home. Tomorrow he would bring the wagon in and take Jess home.

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Jess was gone. Slim stared at the vacant bed as if expecting Jess to suddenly appear before his eyes. Dr. Hanson had been livid when he found the bed empty. Jess' broken rib was barely starting to mend. He shouldn't be walking around and he certainly shouldn't be riding. Slim cursed himself for not foreseeing this move on Jess' part. It was typical Jess. Their friendship and trust had still been too new, too fragile, for Jess to believe it was real. When he was unsure whom he could trust or where he was welcome, he left. He'd light out for parts unknown, leaving little or no trail to follow. It was this way now. Jess was gone without a trace. Slim had no hope of following him; asking him to come back home. He thought he'd made it clear Jess was welcome, no – expected, back at the ranch. Now he knew Jess hadn't forgiven him for his betrayal after all. Sadly he drove the wagon back to the ranch, dreading having to explain to both Jonesy and Andy the reason Jess hadn't returned with him.

CHAPTER THREE

A full moon had been Jess' guide as he left Laramie behind him. He traveled slow, unwilling to risk hurting Traveler on the darkened road. When he felt he had put enough distance between him and the town, he made camp for the remainder of the night. He moved without his usual gracefulness; his ribs reminding him he wasn't as healed as he should have been. But he knew he couldn't go back to the ranch with Slim. The hurt was still too raw. He missed Andy and regretted not getting to say good bye to the youngster; although he knew if he had seen Andy, he might not have been able to ride away. It was better this way, he lied to himself; a clean break from the Sherman Ranch and Relay was better for everyone.

Jess spent the next month traveling by day and camping at night. He was in no hurry but every mile took him further from the place he longed to be – back in Laramie. He wasn't sure when the ranch had started to become home to him, but it kept calling him like a merchant sailor's siren. There was plenty of grass for Traveler to eat along the way. As for Jess, he made do with the occasional rabbit or fish if he could catch any. Being on his own was nothing new and he easily slipped into old habits – staying out of sight, avoiding towns, eating what he could catch and waiting until he was healed enough to find work. He would have preferred ranch work, but if there was none, he could hire out his gun again. It was a possibility if the money was good enough. His gun slinger's habits once again became a part of him; his wariness and sharp instincts resurfaced as if they had never left.

He practiced his draw repeatedly. He knew the chance he'd take if he went into a strange town. The sheriff would be keeping an eye on him, expecting him to cause trouble; that is, if the sheriff even allowed him to stop long enough to get a meal or a drink. At least there weren't any flyers out on him anymore, so he didn't have to worry about being arrested based on account of them. There would be a poker game he could join; his skill would earn him enough to make it to the next town. If he was lucky, no one knew his name; wouldn't call him out for a gunfight. Then again, there was always someone who saw the way he wore his gun and itched for the chance to try their speed. He hated the thought he might have to take another person's life. But this was his life again; one he'd have to live with.

It was getting dark when Jess rode into a non-descript town in the middle of nowhere. He wasn't even sure the town had a name; he hadn't seen one on his way in. He wasn't sure if the town had a sheriff or if he'd be allowed to stay in town overnight so he left Traveler tied to the hitching rail outside what appeared to be the only saloon. Music from an out of tune piano spilled out into the street through an entrance outlined by a dingy yellow lamp. Jess paused at the swinging doors, letting his eyes roam over the crowd inside. Deciding it held no immediate danger, Jess stepped inside and up to the bar. He ordered a whiskey, saving his money in case he could stable Traveler after all. A poker game was in play at one of the larger tables. Drifting over to the table, he was invited to join in. He played several hands, winning some and losing some, happy to leave the table with more than he had sat down with. It would tide him over quite well even after purchasing supplies for the trail.

He had just reached for the door when he heard his name bellowed from behind him.

"Harper, what the hell are you doing here? Did you follow my family? Are you after my daughter again?"

Jess turned around to be confronted by a red faced Edmond Mason. Mason's hands were curled into fists; his contemptuous words slowly registering with the saloon crowd. The slightly drunken crowd began to get to their feet, aligning themselves with Mason, angry eyes turned on Jess.

"I taught you a lesson once, boy, I'll do it again." Mason raged. "I'll teach you to chase my daughter."

Jess watched the crowd, gauging their mood. This was not going to end well.

"You're not making any sense, Mr. Mason." He began. "You know I didn't touch your daughter. You know blamed well she lied – she admitted it! You know it was Tommy Jamison, not me, that got together with her. I never went near her and you know it."

"All I know is that you were the center of it all. You turned Sherman against her so he refused to marry her. Shamed her so bad we had to leave town. Well, you're in my town now and you'll get what's coming to ya." Mason advanced on Jess, the crowd close behind him.

Before he knew it, Jess' gun was in his hand. "Stay back!" he growled a warning to the crowd as he backed out the saloon doors. When they continued to crowd him, he fired a shot over their heads before his world suddenly went black.

He awoke with a massive headache. The sun was shining through a window high in the wall. He looked around and groaned upon seeing the bars surrounding him. He was in jail. He didn't know what he had done to deserve being arrested, but he was definitely in jail. The last thing he remembered was the encounter in the saloon.

He heard the door to the outer office open. "Bout time you was coming around. Thought I was going to have to call the doctor over again." Came a not unkind yet slightly familiar voice.

Jess sat up and looked towards the door, jumping to his feet, grabbing the bars that separated him and the sheriff. "Daniels? Les Daniels? You're a law dog?" Jess laughed, not believing what he was seeing.

"Sure enough, Jess boy, sure enough." Came the laughing response.

"When can I get out of here?" Jess asked hopefully.

"Let your own dang self out." Came the reply. "It ain't locked."

Jess tested the door to his cell, pleasantly surprised when it swung open at the faintest touch. "What gives?" he asked. "Ain't I under arrest?"

Les laughed again, turning to go back into the office. "Come on out here you jack ass. No, you aren't under arrest. I just needed a place to keep you safe for the night and this was the closest." Jess joined Les, taking the chair Les motioned to. He poured them both a cup of coffee before sitting behind his desk. Less studied Jess a moment before speaking.

"You look good, Jess." He said. "Looks like you've straightened out since we parted ways. Haven't seen a flyer on you in years." He took a sip of his coffee. He grinned at Jess' puzzled expression.

"Oh, this?" he said, pointing at the sheriff's badge. "Guess you could say I've straightened out some too. I've been a sheriff going on five years now. I landed in this forsaken town, down on my luck and broke. Had the fortune, or misfortune, depending upon how you look at it, to get into a fight with the outlaw running this town. Whipped his ass and sent him packing. Town made me sheriff and I've been here ever since." He leaned forward, looking directly at Jess. "Sorry I had to bust you one last night. I know how fast you are and you already had your gun out. I knew the situation was going to get bad if I didn't step in." He waved his hand dismissively at Jess. "Don't worry about Mason. He's off his rocker. He still thinks his daughter is pure as the driven snow. Truth is, she puts the working girls to shame with her, hmmm, shall we say 'activities'. There's just something wrong with her." Less finished. "But he is a good banker; fair minded to the ranchers and the farmers. Shame, really. He just can't see the truth of the matter where his daughter is concerned. Damn shame what happened to you in Laramie." Jess felt heat creep up his neck. So, they'd heard about it clear out here in no where.

Less waved his had dismissively again. "No, it's not fodder for the gossip mill. Mason told me himself after I locked you up and he sobered up. He admitted what he did to you and that you were entirely blameless. Oh, and that outburst inside the saloon? Don't even think twice about that. Every time he gets drunk he singles out a cowboy and goes into the same rant. It just happened to be you last night. The crowd usually ignores him; not sure what got them all riled up this time though. But it's over." He took another sip of coffee. "Jess, I want you to come work for me for a while. This isn't much of a town, but there are about twenty wagons coming through here in about a week. They're headed out to meet up with a larger wagon train. They'll only be here a couple days. I really could use an extra hand with all those people in town." He reached into a drawer and brought out Jess' gun and gun belt. "The pay is a dollar a day, room and board, including your horse, if you choose to stay and help me."

Jess stood up and put on his gun belt. "I'll think on it. Now, where is my horse and where can a fella get a good meal?"

Les stood up. "Your horse is at the stable. Why don't you let me buy you breakfast and we can talk over old times." Jess nodded at that as both men exited the Sheriff's office.

By the time the wagons rolled into town, Jess had settled into his routine as Deputy Sheriff. It suited him. Like Les had told him, it wasn't much of a town, but it was a place to lay his head at night and get paid to be on the right side of the law. As promised, he stayed until the wagons left to meet up with the wagon train. He hadn't decided whether to move on or not once the Deputy's job was done. He was looking towards heading for Oregon. He wouldn't be known there and hopefully he could finally put his gun slinger days behind him. That is, he was thinking of Oregon until the telegraph came across the Sheriff's desk.

**Seeking information in connection with assault, arson, personal property damage re Sherman Ranch and Relay Station. Assailant unknown – signed – Mort Cory, Sheriff, Laramie, Wyoming.**

CHAPTER FOUR

Slim dreaded the reception he would receive upon returning without Jess. As expected, Andy blamed him for Jess leaving. Jonesy hadn't been much better. Slim knew he had failed everyone.

It was only a couple weeks after Jess left when accidents began to happen around the ranch. A haystack caught on fire and burned up. One morning the corral gate was wide open, all of the stock scattered across the hills. Fences were found cut, knocked down, or pulled from the ground. Kerosene got spilled over sacks of grain, ruining a month's worth of feed. The salted meat in the storage cellar went bad. Jars of canned goods shattered, creating extra work for all of them. Every day it seemed there was another disaster of some type. While Slim could reason away some of the occurrences, there were others that simply could not be explained. Slim blamed the fire on a lightning strike, but laid the blame for the open gate squarely at Andy's feet; even though Andy swore he had latched it. Jonesy had been putting up their winter food storage for as long as Slim could remember; how could it all be going bad? Jonesy watched as Slim became someone he didn't recognize.

Slim was constantly short tempered and snapped at everyone. Andy avoided his older brother whenever possible. Slim began to let maintenance repairs slide, putting them off to another, uncertain, future time. Usually fastidious about keeping the stage coach line harnesses in top shape, he'd skip cleaning or repairing them, resulting in an over abundance of breakage. The stage line was threatening to close the relay station. Without the income, Slim knew he wouldn't be able to make the next quarterly loan payment. The weight of carrying everything began to wear him down. He didn't seem to care about anything anymore, including how much he drank or whether he shaved or changed clothes.

The final blow came when they went out one morning to find all of the chickens had been slaughtered during the night. Slim walked around the yard, yelling profanities at the universe and kicking the carcasses out of his way. Jonesy ran into the yard when there was a sudden silence. Slim was kneeling on one knee, his hand tracing a boot print in the dirt. He looked at Jonesy. "This was no accident or wild animal. There's a foot print here." It was then he looked up to see the paper pinned to the barn door, fluttering in the breeze. Jonesy looked over Slim's arm as he read: "YOUR'E NEXT SHERMAN".

The two men looked at each other, puzzlement reflected in both of their faces. Neither had a clue about the origin or the reason for the note. "Slim", Jonesy began, "You need to let Mort know about all of this. It's beginning to look like those accidents weren't accidents."

Slim nodded his agreement. "I'm going right now. You keep Andy here. I don't want him hurt."

Jonesy watched Slim ride out before muttering. "First straight thing you've done in weeks." He turned then and headed back inside to let Andy know what was going on.

Mort listened silently as Slim relayed all of the accidents which had occurred at the ranch over the last few weeks. While he sympathized with Slim, there wasn't much he could do because no one had seen anything. No one else had reported any similar problems. Only the threat against Slim seemed to be cause for concern, one Mort took seriously.

Slim was tense on the ride home. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up and he didn't like the feeling he was being watched. Reacting to his rider's anxiety, Alamo fidgeted, tossing his head and acting skittish. He spooked without cause, breaking Slim's concentration and continual search of the surrounding area as he tried to calm the nervous horse. Fighting Slim's grip on the reins, Alamo threw his head up and reared just seconds before Slim heard the rifle report. The animal twisted in the air as his hind feet slipped, sending horse and rider crashing to the ground. Alamo clambered clumsily to his feet before bolting for home, leaving Slim lying, unmoving, in the roadway.

The rider watched from the hillside, content to see Sherman not moving below him. He didn't care if Sherman was alive or dead. He intended to kill Sherman eventually anyways, so if his end had come sooner, that was okay with the rider. Satisfied for now, the rider turned and rode away.

Slim lay still, waiting for another shot to ring out. When it didn't come, he slowly levered himself to a sitting position, checking to be sure the only thing hurt was his pride. His leg hurt where the saddle's horn had struck his thigh in the fall. But other than the already swelling leg, he was in one piece. Disgusted at the turn of events, he slapped the dust from his hat against his good leg before putting it on and proceeded to limp towards home.

It wasn't long before he heard horses traveling towards him at a good clip. Jonesy pulled the team to a halt beside Slim. Pushing his bowler back off his forehead, Jonesy exclaimed. "Boy am I glad to see you. That there horse coming into the yard like his tail was afire sure scared the dickens out of me."

Slim climbed aboard the wagon, grinning as he answered. "Good to see you too, Jonesy."

The drive back to the ranch was made in silence. Jonesy knew Slim was too good of a rider to have been thrown from Alamo. Something had happened; perhaps something connected to the other 'accidents' that had been plaguing the ranch. But Slim refused to explain how he had been left afoot.

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"You're a blamed fool, Slim" Jonesy chastised "You're a gonna get yourself killed if you keep taking these kinds of chances."

Looking down from his seat aboard Alamo, Slim retorted angrily. "What you expect me to do, Jonesy? I can't let the cattle run all over creation. Those fences don't fix themselves."

Jonesy snorted, shoving his hands into his back pockets. "They don't fall down by themselves either!" He retorted, now shaking a finger at Slim "You mark my words, there's trouble out there with you by yourself. No good is gonna come of you making yourself an easy target." He harrumphed before turning back to the house as Slim rode out of the yard.

Slim shoved the post into the ground with more force than necessary. He was hot, tired and hungry. He was still mad about his argument with Jonesy, even though he knew the older man was right. But he had a ranch to run and that meant fixing fences wherever they needed fixing – even it if was miles from the house and far from any help if anything occurred. He couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. Just like before, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up; he had no choice but to continue his work. Once he got the fence done, he had to move the cattle back into the pasture. It would be a long day.

It was late when he got the last of the cows herded into the pasture and finished the fence work. Checking his watch, he found he had a good hour before Jonesy would have supper on the table. He was close to the lake and a quick dip would feel marvelous after a day of sweating in the sun.

Two riders followed Slim as he headed to the lake; each unaware of the other's existence. But both riders had one thing on their mind – to meet up with the rancher; each to confront him in their own way.

Leaving Alamo tied in the shade of the big oak tree, Slim walked down to the lake's edge. He had removed his boots and stripped off his shirt when heard a gun being cocked.

"Hands up, Sherman; no, don't you turn around." He'd said as Slim complied by raising his hands. "You and me got a couple things to settle. Now, where'd you send Laura Mae?"

Slim started to turn but stopped upon hearing "Na-uh, I like you just fine the way you are. Now, I'll ask you one more time. Where's Laura Mae."

"I don't know." Slim answered truthfully.

"You lying . . ." Slim's world went black as the butt of the gun connected with the back of his head.

"JAMINSON!" Came a gravelly voice from not too far away. Forgetting Slim, Tommy Jamison dove for the cover of the nearby brush, snapping off shots blindly. There was a single, calculated return shot that caused him to cower behind his protection. Slim heard the shots and dragged himself out of the line of fire. He palmed his gun, waiting for his vision to clear so he could defend himself

"Jaminson. Give yourself up." Came the voice again. Slim jerked his head up upon recognizing the voice – Jess!

"No way, Harper. I'm going to get even with both you and Sherman."

"How's that gonna work, Jamison" yelled Slim. "You're caught between me and Jess." He hadn't seen Tommy using the undercover to change positions.

"Easy!" Yelled Jamison as his shot rang out. It caught Slim unawares, the impact throwing him into the lake, laying face down, unmoving.

Jess' blood ran cold upon seeing Slim shot. But keeping his head, he called out again, regaining Jamison's attention.

"You're next, Harper." Yelled Tommy. "I got your buddy, now I'm going to get you." He stood up then, firing rapidly where he believed Jess to be before a quick succession of shots caught him in the chest. He lay in the dirt, feeling the life blood flow out of him. He struggled weakly when Jess walked up to him and kicked away his gun. Before Jess could even kneel beside the wounded Jamison, he was dead.

Jess turned and at once dropped his gun belt onto the lake's edge as he dove in. He swam to where Slim's body had drifted, hauling him back onto shore. Slim's limp body was dead weight as Jess struggled to haul the larger man to safety. Suddenly Slim coughed, bringing up mounds of water. He lay on his side, propped on one elbow as he continued to cough up the lake water. Jess flopped down on the ground beside him, breathing heavily. "Good thing Andy taught me to swim this summer." He said.

Slim looked up see Jess soaking wet, water dripping down his face and the gap toothed smile of the friend he thought he'd lost forever.

"No wonder Jonesy calls you a varmint. You look like a drowned rat." Slim sputtered.

"Good to see you too." came the laughing reply. "That's strong words coming from someone who looks like they tried to drink an entire lake." Then more seriously. "Are you okay? Where'd he hit you?"

Slim waved a hand dismissively. "He just gave me a new hairline part; knocked me for a loop for a minute."

"Ha!" came Jess' reply as he gained his feet. "More likely knocked some sense into you."

He retrieved his gun belt plus Slim's shirt and boots, helping him put them on. Reaching down to help Slim stand he said. "Let's go home, Slim."

Slim smiled broadly at the reference to home; eagerly slapping Jess on the back in agreement. As they walked to the horses Jess said. "You know, Jonesy' gonna have our hide for tracking this mud and water into the house; not to mention the extra laundry it'll cause."

Slim laughed heartily. "That he will, Jess, that he will. But I'm willing to bet he'll be so dal garned glad to see you again he just might forget to be mad."

Laughing together, they mounted their horses and headed for home.

THE END.