Run…gotta run…

The earth flew by under his bare feet. He didn't feel the rough ground cut into his soles, nor the glaring sun above. All he felt was the wind in his face and the sweat running freely down his body.

Further…further…faster…faster…

He reached the top of a hill and took the other side in a few bounds. At the bottom was a lazy river. At the sight of the water, he stopped dead still. A memory gripped him like a vice…a boy…swimming lesson…and a tall man scolding them. But he wasn't afraid of the tall man. He was nice, just teasing.

He shook his head and blinked. Who were those people? He gripped his forelock in frustration and sat in the loose sand. Jess…was that his name? It didn't seem familiar. "Jess," he whispered. "Jess," he said louder. "Jess, Jess, JESS!" His final shout echoed vaguely in the little valley.

It did seem like a good name, better than Jack, and infinitely better than Jimmy… Unbidden, memories claimed him.

"What's your name? It's Jimmy! Say it! Say it!"

"No…"

Slap!

"Do as I say! Tell me your name!"

"I don't know…"

Slap! Crack!

"It's Jimmy! Tell me your name, Jimmy!"

"Ji...ji...jimmy."

"Good boy, Jimmy. You may have your dinner now."

Jumping to his feet, he waded into the river. His reflection glared back at him. He rubbed his chest, feeling the scabs and welts from the repeated beatings through his ragged shirt. Why was violence the only thing he could remember? Was this what life was like? Nothing but cruelty?

As the dark thoughts claimed him, he sank slowly until the water was up to his chin. It would be so easy just to let himself drift away…but then he heard the boy's voice in his head. "That's it, Jess, you're gettin' it!"

"This how you two round up those new calves?"

"Well, Andy was learnin' me how to swim," he defended aloud.

Andy! "Oh, Andy…" A confusing kaleidoscope of memories flooded his mind, washing out the morbid thoughts. He pulled himself up and out of the water and shook out his wavy hair. Andy would be crushed, he just knew, if he didn't use his swimming lessons. "Don't wanna drown…almost happened up at the Lolo…"

No, he wouldn't drown. Not in water, not in darkness. He's make it, somehow.

He wandered back to the farm he'd run from. Those two men were waiting for him on the porch. The smaller one anxiously stood, but Joe, the one he'd met back at the Jamison's, yanked the skinny one back down and growled something at him under his breath.

Joe thumbed over his shoulder. "Supper's waitin', Jess. Ready?"

He nodded, still reluctant to talk to them.

Joe stood and led the way, the skinny one following. Before entering, the skinny one looked back. "Coming, Jess?"

The skinny one had nice, friendly green eyes. What was his name? Oh yes, Chad. He felt as though he'd seen him before, but he couldn't be sure. He felt like he could trust these men…and if they said his name was Jess, then he'd believe them.

"Yeah." His own voice sounded strange and foreign, like now that he was "Jess", and not "Jack" or "Jimmy", it was entirely new and unfamiliar.

Chad smiled. "Well, come on in, then."

He mounted the porch steps, noticing for the first time how painful his feet felt.

Chad said nothing, but just cocked his head invitingly.

They entered the kitchen together. Joe was serving up bowls of something hot.

He sat down before one. "Mulligan," he muttered.

"How's that?" Joe asked.

"Can't get away from mulligan."

Joe and Chad exchanged glances, as if unsure of what he was saying. He wasn't really sure what he was saying either.

He tucked in, and before he knew what he was doing, he was putting the food into his mouth faster than he could chew and swallow it.

A hand on his arm made him freeze. It was Chad. "Easy there, Jess."

The food turned to sawdust in his mouth. "Sorry," he mumbled. He pushed the bowl away. "I won't take anymore."

The bowl was pushed back. "You eat as much as you can handle." Chad's face was open and kind, not hostile and cruel. "You're as skinny as a bean pole, Jess. Can't let you blow away on us."

He searched for any sign of deceit, but was unable to find any on either of their tan faces. He carefully picked up the spoon and started in again, his eyes never leaving their faces. They watched for a moment before they too started to eat, their attention only on their stew.

Later, Chad was rubbing salve on Jess' ankles and feet. Chad chanced a glance up at Jess face, pleased to see that he was completely relaxed, sipping coffee. "I love this stuff," he sighed.

"Yeah, you do," Chad laughed. "Seems to me you'd always drink the pot dry before anybody else got a chance to have some!"

"Ornery, huh?"

"Ornerier than a coon in the garden."

Chad's heart leapt in joy as Jess revealed his unique grin, the gap in his teeth showing.

Joe emerged from Florie's bedroom. "Found these boots. Look like they might fit you once your feet are healed."

"'Course they will. Those are my boots!"

"How 'bout that?" Joe grinned. "Now you'll be set."

Jess sobered. "When we leavin'?"

"As soon as you're ready," Chad replied.

He looked up at the ceiling. "Laramie…don't seem to ring any bells…"

"It'll come, Jess," Chad comforted. "Don't give up."

"Chad, you knew me…before…"

"Mmm."

"Did you know me very well?"

"Oh, sure. We were pards for a while."

"How come we stopped?"

Chad started at the question. "Uh…well, I went one way, and you went another. It wasn't a fight or anything."

Jess seemed relieved. "Chad…," he began, but hesitated.

"What, Jess?"

"What…what was I like? What did I do?"

"Do, Jess?" Chad looked at Joe for support, but the big ranger helplessly shrugged.

"Do for a livin'."

Chad swallowed hard and hunched over his task of bandaging Jess' ankles to hide his face. "Well, you punched cattle and stuff…"

"That ain't all I done, is it?" Jess was staring at his hands. "These hands, Chad, they're killer's hands. Joe found that out back at the ranch, didn't you?" Joe faced the floor, hating himself. "Well, it ain't no secret!" Jess' pitch rose in distress. "I just killed two men faster'n a rattlesnake strikin' without even tellin' my body what to do! So don't tell me I punched cattle for a livin'!"

"But you did, Jess! I swear it," Chad said desperately.

"I don't believe you. You two are Rangers, men of the law. You'd know 'bout me if I was bad. Am I? Who am I, Chad? WHO AM I?!"

Chad stood up, feeling his temper rise. "You're Jess Harper! Loyal, ornery, mule-headed Jess Harper! You're the fella nobody wants to go against because they know that when you've got a good cause, you can be meaner than a mountain lion, and tougher, too. You like a good scrap, but who doesn't? But let me tell you one thing, and you listen good." Chad leaned in close to the still seated Jess, whose face was turning a dark color. Chad's voice dropped to an intense whisper. "Jess Harper, you are not a killer."

Jess stared back silently, his mouth a tight line. Then he burst from his chair and went to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.