A/N: As we wade deeper into the subplot, I want to thank every one of you for your faithfulness to read and review! I appreciate you all!
Chapter Ten
The relief coursing through Slim was overwhelming as he waved his goodbyes to the stage headed out into the beautiful red and yellow glow of dusk. Andy leaned out the window of the coach, his smile as bright as could be expected. After all, it had only been a few hours since he'd learned of the death of the father of one of his best friends... so though the boy's smile didn't reach his eyes, it encouraged Slim nonetheless. Mose had graciously offered to take a detour by the Kelly ranch and drop of Andy and Jonesy; since there were no other passengers or a payroll, just a sack of mail, he could afford to take the extra half hour en route to Cheyenne.
Andy would be safe there, Slim had no doubt. The murderous pair wouldn't dare return to the Kelly's, though they were likely to still be close by. Sheriff Corey had wired all the neighboring towns and stage stops to post guards along the roads, and to stop any strangers carrying a good deal of cash. Slim had tremendous faith in the seasoned lawman, certainly not doubting that the pair would pay for their crimes... but he winced at the foreboding twist in his gut. Would any more lives be claimed before their capture?
Slim pushed the ominous thoughts from his mind, satisfying himself with the knowing that Andy was out of danger. The blond didn't have time for worrying, anyhow – there were chores to be done, and they most definitely weren't going to do themselves. Giving his head a hurried shake to clear his thoughts, Slim turned on his heel and marched briskly indoors.
His gaze immediately settled on Jess, settled in the old wooden rocker. The younger man had pulled his chair closer to the fire than usual, where he sat unmoving, staring vacantly into the flames.
"We've got to get to the chores soon, Jess." Slim watched the dancing shadows that flames cast across Jess's striking, defined features, unsure whether his friend had heard his comment.
The lull of silence was eased by a sudden pop from the fireplace, where a small shift in the logs resulted in a shower of sparks. As if half-broken from his reverie, Jess responded with a slightly belated nod.
Satisfied, Slim reached the fireplace in one long stride and threw another heavy log on the flames.
The explosion was white-hot; a blinding ball of fire.
Jess reared back, sucking in a sharp breath. The heat on his face intensified, bringing a sting to his eyes. The memory of the explosion flashed vividly through his mind for a split second, fading quickly as he pulled away from the blistering heat. "Warn a fella before you do that, huh, Slim?"
"Sorry, pard," Slim apologized, slowly realizing what had just happened. "I didn't think-"
Jess held up a hand and shook his head. "No harm. Now, you said somethin' about chores, didn't you?"
Slim slapped his partner on the back as the dark-haired man rose to his feet. "Yeah, I thought I'd split some more wood and you could feed and curry the horses, if you think you can handle it." He watched Jess carefully, preparing to read his reaction to the challenge Slim had presented him with.
Jess cocked his head to the side, and he mulled over the idea for only a moment. "I think so, Slim. Just help me to the barn?" While the young rancher was fast becoming a professional at blindly navigating the house, he still allowed – and on occasion, requested – assistance to the barn; once there, however, he was able to efficiently make his way around the stalls.
Slim took Jess's arm and steered him towards the door. "You know, I've been thinking..."
"Uh-oh," Jess groaned, repressing a facetious smile. "What have you got up your sleeve now?"
"Well, about your getting around without seeing... I thought it might be a good idea to, maybe, find you a cane of some sort. You know, so you can feel around in case there' an obstacle your arm didn't catch." Slim glanced sideways, waiting for Jess's reaction. The dark-haired man's face was heavily lined with disapproval.
"I ain't much for any kind of crutch, Slim."
Slim pressed his lips together, gathering his thoughts. "Fine," he consented tightly. "I'll remember you said that when I find you sprawled on the floor somewhere, probably with at least one sprain, because you couldn't check your feet and you tripped on a crate or stepped in a gopher hole."
Jess snorted softly, dropping his head. "Slim, you have a way of puttin' things that makes me sound as ornery as a Missouri mule. Alright, If it makes you happy, I'll think about using a cane." Sensing Slim was about to interject, he held up a hand. "But not in the house. Unless you suddenly take to leavin' things lyin' around all over the floor, I don't need it indoors."
"Fair enough." Slim stopped suddenly, and Jess nearly tripped over his own feet stopping as well. "Sorry," the taller man apologized, moving Jess's hand so it rested on the rail of the corral. "Can you handle it from here?"
"It's been a month and some odd days, you ain't gotta hold my hand anymore." Jess scowled at his employer, but the expression held only mild annoyance, not anger.
Slim backed away, hands lifted in surrender. "Alright! I just don't want you to think you've got to keep on bein' so dadgum independent... we're family, remember? We're here to help you."
Jess scrubbed a hand through his hair, a reluctant shrug rolling his shoulders. "Right. Sorry. I'm still gettin' used to it." His right hand ran along the rail of the corral, following the barn wall to the door. "I'll be a while, I'm sure."
"Take your time," Slim called after him, watching the slender frame disappear into the barn in search of feed for the stock. He was more proud of Jess than the younger man could ever know. It was incredible how much he had learned to do in the last month, when there was a time he thought he'd be good for nothing but dish washing and rifle cleaning. As much progress as Jess made towards living a semi-normal life again, Slim held on to that sliver of hope that his partner wouldn't have to live in darkness forever.
Jess was strong. Jess was a fighter. No matter how accepting and complacent he seemed on the surface, he would never stop fighting inside. And that was what gave Slim hope.
Horses fed, stock brought in for the night, fresh water in the trough.
Mentally marking each task off his checklist, Jess turned to attend to the last horse... the one he'd been looking forward to since the chores began.
Jess didn't realize how much he'd missed Traveller until his hands found the bay's thick mane, fingers weaving through black hair. He'd come out to visit his mount a couple of times, but always escorted by Slim. Somehow, it didn't feel the same that way. Now the barn was large and empty, the only sound being the deep breathing of the stock, and the occasional scrape of hooves on hay-covered wood. Jess ran his scarred fingers lightly over the bay's mane, taking comfort in the horse's warmth.
"I've missed you, boy." His low, husky whisper sounded right by the strong, sleek creature's ear as he reached for a currycomb. "Slim's been taking you out pretty regular," Jess noted aloud, feeling the bay's strong, defined muscles, like a fine sculpture. "I'll be sure to thank him for that."
Traveller snorted in reply, shaking his dark mane and stepping skittishly toward the far end of the stall.
"Easy, boy. It's me, Jess." Jess frowned, stepping toward his mount, alarmed by his sudden change in demeanor.
The quiet, deadly voice at his back explained everything.
"Don't move, friend, or I'll drop you where you stand."