IN THE SHADOW OF DEATH

by HattieLynn

This is my translation and condensation of LARAMIESTAR'S original, German language story, IM SCHATTEN DES TODES, the very first story on the Laramie FanFiction Archive (July 14, 2004). It is published with her permission. See Chapter 1 for details. Since it is a translation of the German language story, it is not a second publication of the story.

26. Chapter 26

IN THE SHADOW OF DEATH

CHAPTER 26

The driver of the noon stage brought news of the gunfight to the Sherman Ranch. Slim dropped the chain he'd just unhooked from the harness and jerked upright to stare at Mose. "Say that again?" he asked.

Slim dropped the chain he'd just unhooked from the harness and jerked upright to stare at Mose. "Say that again?" he asked.

"You heard me," Mose said. "There ain't never been anything like it. Got all three of 'em, by golly."

"How about Jess?"

"Alive and kicking when I pulled out of town."

"Are you sure it was Hal and his gang?"

"Sure. I didn't see it myself, but it's all over town. Jess got two of 'em. And one of the guys was the guy that shot him! I'll sleep better at night now that those three bit the dust. And I'll feel better about Jess."

"I wish I could," Slim said. Stone faced, he bent to finish what he'd been doing. All the guilt he felt when he'd failed to warn Jess in time flooded back. It was his fault Jess got shot in the first place. Now he'd missed the chance to redeem himself. Jess had to meet the devil a second time and he wasn't there to help him - again.

"Cat got your tongue?" Mose said, cocking a questioning eyebrow at him.

"Just thinking about what could have happened…"

"Now, Slim, you know Jess ain't no tenderfoot. This ain't the first time he's been in a shootout. I saw him at Hanson's. He said he was waiting for the pump, then he and Mike were heading for home."

"He's in bad shape. I'm worried about him!" Slim fired the words out like bullets from a gun. He looked like he was about to bite Moses' head off.

Mose drew himself up with a huff and snapped the whip. The stage rolled off toward Cheyenne, leaving two very worried people behind at the ranch. The passengers had shared the news with Daisy as they partook of coffee and biscuits at the living room table. When the stage left, she hurried to talk to Slim and found him standing on the porch, looking toward the Laramie Road, debating whether he should saddle up and ride to town.

"Slim!" she cried. "The passengers told me about the shooting! What did Mose say?"

"Hal and his gang tried to rob the bank and Jess was in it up to his neck."

"Oh, dear God!" She held her face with her hands. "Is he...dear heaven, is he hurt?"

"No. Mose said he saw him at Hanson's, waiting for the pump. He and Mike were about to head home."

Daisy sighed with relief. "Thank God," she said, dropping her hands from her face after wiping the tears from her eyes. "Slim, do you think they came for him?"

"No, it doesn't sound like it." Slim was still staring toward Laramie, wondering if he should ride out to meet them. "Jess will tell us about it when they get here. I think he suspected something like this was going to happen."

"What do you mean?"

"He's been worried about Mike. That's why he's been going to town to get him every day. He's had a feeling something bad was going to happen. I wish I'd had it when he got shot."

"Slim!", she said reprovingly.

"You know it's true. And I wasn't there today when I would have had a chance to make things right."

"Slim, that's absurd! What are you talking about?"

"About not being there for a friend when he needs help."

"There was no way for you to know! You're not clairvoyant." She put her hand on his arm. "How can you blame yourself for not knowing what was going to happen?"

"I should have been there!" he snapped.

"Slim Sherman!" Her tone sharpened as if she were correcting Mike instead of a full grown man. "Don't you think about anything but your own guilt? You should be glad this nightmare is finally over."

Slim stared at her, aghast. She'd never spoken to him like that before - but it made him realize she was right. He couldn't have known, and he shouldn't be burdening his family with this guilt that he couldn't get rid of. It was a good thing he'd talked to her before dumping his bad feelings on Jess. It would only have irritated and upset him. The rancher's expression brightened.

"Daisy, you're a saint!" he said and hugged her.

"Oh, you!" she protested. "Don't try to soften me up with your flattery!" She smiled and let him give her a loving kiss her forehead. "I think I understand why you and Jess shout at each other now and them. You're both as stubborn as mules!"

"Most of the time we're not serious."

"Well, I am! About what I just said at least." Slim's quick change of mind worried her a bit.

"I know. I just wish I'd been there when those three killers showed up again." He turned back to scan the road. "He ought to be here by now."

"Don't start worrying again. Remember that Mose said he was waiting on the pump."

"Yeah," Slim said absently. "I think I'll ride out to meet them."

Daisy nodded. "I'll keep the food warm."

Slim went to the barn and started saddling Alamo, but when he heard the rattle of the wagon coming toward the ranch, he went to meet them.

Jess had asked Mike to drive up to the house so he could get out there. The sun was setting as Mike jumped to the ground and ran around to untie Browny from the back of the wagon. Jess crawled down from the wooden seat like he was an old man.

"Hey, Slim!" Mike shouted. The trauma of the gunfight was pushed to the back of his mind in the joy of having a good story to tell. "You won't believe what happened today!"

"You're right. I wouldn't believe it if Mose hadn't told me about it," Slim said, his face tight, his words clipped.

"Jess and Mort got all of them…"

"Later, Mike! You need to take care of your pony and Daisy is holding supper for us."

"Do what he says, cowboy," Jess said quietly.

"OK," Mike said reluctantly. "Come on Browny. I'll tell you about it," he grumbled as he trudged off toward the barn, Browny in tow.

"So what happened?" Slim asked.

"Mose already told you." Jess was leaning against the wagon, but Slim didn't notice. "I got nothin' much to say about it."

"I'd like to hear it from you."

"Can we save it?"

"Damn it, Jess! You're in the middle of a gunfight, and you don't want to talk about it?"

"You're talking like I stirred things up just so I could get shot at."

"Did you?"

"No! Me and Mike walked into it before we knew what was happenin'," he snapped.

"After the way you've been talking the last couple of days, you can't blame me for thinking about it."

"I wouldn't get Mike into anything like that."

"I had to ask, Jess. Was Mose right about it being Hal and his gang?"

"Yeah." Jess gasped suddenly and stuck his hand under his jacket, pushing against his wound.

"Did you get hit?" Alarmed, Slim grabbed both of Jess' shoulders to support him.

"No."

"You can barely stand up!" Slim finally became aware of Jess' exhaustion. "Did Doc Higgins take a look at you?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, what? What did he say?"

"It's gettin' worse. I've been coughin' up blood again."

Slim's grip on his shoulders tightened. "Did you tell Dan about that?"

Jess nodded.

"And…?"

"He's telegraphed Tyler. I'll go next week."

"What about Mike?"

"I'll tell him this weekend."

Slim saw the iodine on the scrape on Jess' ear. He touched it lightly. "How about this?"

"Just a scratch. Dan didn't even want to stitch it up."

"Well...alright." Slim's expression softened. "I'm glad you still in one piece. And I want to hear what happened...from you."

Jess ducked his head and his mouth crooked to the side. "OK, partner, but I got to get inside now if you'll get out of my way."

"You need help?" Slim asked without moving.

"I'm fine."

"I'll unload the wagon. I see you got the pump."

"Yeah. And Daisy's stuff's in there, too."

Slim reluctantly stepped aside and watched tight-lipped as his partner pulled himself away from the support of the wagon. Jess slowly climbed the steps to the porch, then leaned against the post for a moment because he felt dizzy.

"Are you sure you don't want some help?" Slim persisted.

"I'm alright," he said, finally making it through the front door like a sick wolf limping into its den.

Slim waited to take care of the supplies until he saw Daisy meet Jess inside the door and wrap her arms around him. She saw his exhaustion immediately and took him to the kitchen table for a hot cup of coffee. As soon as Slim and Mike came in, she had the family sit down at the dinner table. Jess needed to eat as quickly as possible so he could get into bed and rest.

Mike's appetite hadn't been affected by the events of the day. He shoveled spoonful after spoonful of beef stew into his mouth and managed to keep talking at the same time. Jess said almost nothing and ate less.

Daisy finally had to say something about it. "You're not feeling very well are you, Jess?"

"It's been a long day. I'm goin' to go on upstairs and lie down, but don't worry. I'm just followin' doctor's orders."

He was unsteady when he pushed back from the table. Slim fought the urge to get up and help him, but he knew it would only irritate him. He watched anxiously as Jess slowly climbed the stairs toward his room.

Daisy leaned toward the rancher, as anxious as he was. "Slim, what's wrong with him?" she asked.

"I think the fight in town was too much for him - and he won't tell me about it."

"He's never talked a lot about things like that."

"Yeah, but this was different. I'd like to know what happened."

"I can tell you!" Mike piped up. "Not everything but most of it."

"Not right now, Mike." Slim looked worried. He drank the last of his coffee and stood up. "I'm going up and see how he's doing."

Daisy hurried to the kitchen and gave him a pitcher of fresh water to take with him. He held it one hand and knocked on Jess' door with the other.

"Come on in," Jess called out. His voice was gravelly with fatigue. When Slim opened the door, he saw that Jess had already taken off his shirt. He set the pitcher on the washstand and watched as his partner poured the water into a bowl and splashed it on his face, rubbing his skin hard as if trying to wash away the stains of the day.

"Daisy told me to bring that water up to you," Slim said.

"Sounds like an excuse to me."

"And she said for me to bring you shirt down so she could wash the blood out of it."

"It's on the chair."

Jess leaned over the washbowl fighting his growing dizziness, his face as white as the linen bandage wrapped tightly around his chest. He glanced back and saw Slim watching him. "What're you lookin' at?" he snapped, turning around, making the dizziness worse. He leaned against the washstand to keep his balance.

"Why're you going to lie down? I know it's not because Dan told you to."

"Well, if you got to know, it's because I'm dizzy, I'm tired and this wound I got is killin' me. Is that good for you?"

"Come on, Jess…"

Jess ran his hand over his wet face, grabbed a towel off the washstand behind him and dried off. "Sorry, Slim," he said, throwing the towel aside, "but I'm feeling' pretty bad."

"You look it."

"Thanks," Jess said dryly. He walked to the bed, unsteady on his feet. "I'll be alright if I rest for a while," he said, sinking onto the edge of the mattress.

"You overdid it today."

"Probably." He reached for the pills Dr. Higgins gave him and swallowed two of them. Then he lay down, propping his against the pillows at the top of the bed.

"What're you taking?"

"Something Dan gave me for my heart." He grimaced with pain and pressed his hand against his chest. "If this ache don't ease up soon, I might take a dose of laudanum, too."

"Do you want me to get you some?"

"Not yet."

"It might help you."

"I doubt it."

"I guess a gunfight works better than laudanum." Slim felt bad the minute he said it, but he couldn't take it back.

"That wasn't my doing," Jess snapped. "I ain't never started a fight like that."

"But you've been in plenty of them."

"I guess you think killin' two people is easy for me," Jess snarled.

"You've never let it get to you like this before."

"You think I kill people for fun?" His eyes were tightly shut, his dark eyelashes shadowing his pale cheeks.

"You know I don't! You had a good reason to kill those two this morning."

"I didn't have a choice."

"It was self-defense."

"Yeah."

Slim stared down at him, perplexed. He'd been with Jess in a lot of gunfights. He'd never reacted this way before. He pulled a chair from the corner of the room and sat down beside the bed. "Look, Jess," he said, his voice quiet and firm. "Whatever happened today has really gotten to you - and you don't want to talk about it. But I'm not leaving until you do."

"There ain't much to say."

"Oh, yeah?" Slim said. He leaned forward, his hands clasped, his elbows and his knees and waited.

Jess' eyes flicked open to take a fast look at his partner before halfway closing, looking down at nothing. At last, he said, "Mike was in the middle of it. I keep seein' him standin' there in Mort's office. Another two seconds and he would've been hit…" He turned his head away from Slim. "...let Mike tell you about it…"

"Can Mike tell me how you shot those two guys?"

"No…" His dark brows furrowed but when Slim kept waiting, he finally went on. "One of them - Ron - was tryin' to get away. Mort was under fire out in front of the jail and I was comin' around the side of it tryin' to get to him. This horse came around the corner right on top of me and I shot at the rider. I didn't know it was Ron. I got lucky. I blew his jaw off." Jess swallowed hard and scrubbed at his forehead.

"I'm glad you got him," Slim said. "What about the other one?"

"It was Hal. He had Mort pinned down, but I winged him."

"How bad?"

"Bad enough. But he wouldn't stop comin'. I had to shoot him again - and he was still alive when I got to him."

"Sounds like the Hal I saw that day he shot you."

"Yeah. He knew me right off… He...said he'd be waitin' for me - at the gates...of hell."

"I hope you're not worrying about that."

"It was the way he said it…the way he grinned at me. I know I didn't see him that day he shot me but you did. And Mike did. Now I know what you saw - a cold-blooded murderer. It ...scared me."

"Then why are you feeling so bad? You did what you had to do and you probably saved Mort's life."

"That ain't it, Slim. That ain't what scared me. When I saw him...dying...I was glad. I was glad I killed him. I liked doin' it - like he did."

Now Slim understood. "You're not like him, Jess," he said, full of certainty in the truth of his words. "He wanted to make to you think you are, though. I think it was his way of trying to get revenge."

Jess thought about this. "You think that's why he grinned at me?"

"Yeah. And that's why you shouldn't do him any favors by believing it. Or keep on thinking about it. Forget it. Forget him. He's not worth it."

"Yeah. I guess you're right," he said slowly, rubbing his chest and frowning. "I just got to get some rest so I can think straight again."

"Sure you do. It's over now. And you're still alive. We got a lot to be happy about."

"Yeah." He tried to take a deep breath but couldn't manage it. "I probably ought to do some thinkin' about talkin' to Mike."

"Let me know if you need help with that."

"Thanks, Slim, but this is something I have to do myself."

Suddenly Jess gasped and started coughing. Slim grabbed him and lifted him up, propping him up higher on the pillows before getting a towel from the washstand. When the towel began to turn red with blood, Slim slipped his arms around him and held him upright so he could breathe, agonized by his partner's struggle.

As the attack eased, Jess said, "Sorry you had to see this again."

"I wish Dan was here," was Slim's heartfelt reply.

"He already saw it earlier."

"This is the second time today?"

"It wasn't that bad," he said as he tried to reach for a glass of water sitting on the nightstand. He stopped, falling back as another stab of pain shot through him and nailed him against the pillows.

Slim handed the glass to him. "Don't you want some laudanum in this?" he asked.

"Not now." He emptied the glass and sank back against the pillows.

"Do you want to tell me the rest of the story now?" Slim asked.

"No. It's mostly about Mike. I think he ought to tell you about it himself."

Slim helped Jess get between the sheets and pulled the quilts over him. He could tell Jess seemed to be having cold chills. "Do you have a fever?" he asked.

"I don't think so." He coughed again but didn't bring up any bloody mucus. "If I settle down, maybe it won't come back."

"Here's another towel, just in case," Slim said.

"Thanks. I hope this cough isn't contagious."

"Contagious?" Slim's eyebrows went up in surprise. "What makes you think that?"

"It could be, couldn't it?

"Now listen here. It's not contagious, and even if it was, it wouldn't make any difference. And it wouldn't matter to you, either, if it was the other way around."

"Thanks, partner," Jess said softly, closing his eyes. Slim studied him a moment, making sure he was settled in, then turned around and left the room.

The next day just before noon while Slim and Mike were installing the new pump, Mort Corey rode into the yard. He was driving a small two wheeled buggy instead of riding his horse.

Mike dropped everything and ran over to him. "Hi, Sheriff!" he shouted, sticking out his chest to make sure Mort saw the shiny five-pointed star he was wearing.

"Howdy, Deputy! How do you like wearing that badge?"

"A lot! I'm on duty because I'm helping Slim!"

Mort laughed. "It looks real good on you!"

"Howdy, Mort!" Slim called, straightening up from the pump he was working on.

"Morning, Slim."

"Since when do you ride around in a lady's buggy?" Slim teased.

"Since I got sideswiped by a bullet yesterday."

"Yeah. Jess told me about that."

"Where is he?"

"In the house. He's not up yet." Remembering that Mike was close by, he turned to the boy and said, "You better go inside and tell Daisy we're going to have company for lunch."

"Yes, sir!" Mike replied and ran off to do his duty, hoping to impress the sheriff by his swiftness in obeying orders.

When he was out of earshot, Slim said, "Jess didn't want to talk much about what happened. He was in pretty bad shape when he got home yesterday. I learned most of it from Mike. Do you want to see him?"

"I need to talk to him so I can finish the report. I only saw part of what happened."

"Maybe he'll feel up to talking about it this morning. I hope so…"

"I know you're worried about him. So is Dan."

"He's got to go to Colorado Springs. Now he's saying he'll go as soon as he talks to Mike."

"That won't be an easy thing to do."

"You're right about that," Slim said sadly.

"Well, look here!" Mort said to lighten things up. "I brought the Laramie Chronicle with me." He slapped the folded newspaper lying on the seat beside him. "Morgan wrote a pretty good article about what happened without exaggerating too much. I just hope it doesn't attract too many young whippersnappers wanting to make a name for themselves by coming after Jess - or me."

"Don't say anything about that to him. He's got enough to worry about already."

"I won't. I better get on over to see what Miss Daisy's cooked up for lunch," he said with anticipation. "That is, if you don't need a hand with that pump."

"Thanks, Mort but I got the worst of it behind me. Go on over to the house. Daisy'll be glad to see you."

When the sheriff walked into the living room, Daisy came out of the kitchen to meet him, drying her wet hands on her apron.

"Sheriff Corey!" she exclaimed with pleasure. "What a nice surprise!"

"Good morning, Miss Daisy! I'm always glad when I can combine duty with pleasure."

"I hope it's not an unpleasant duty," Daisy said, instantly worried.

"No, not at all. I just need to talk to Jess so I file my report."

"He hasn't come downstairs yet. Yesterday was too much for him, I'm afraid."

"I know - but I'm glad he was there. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him."

"Slim told me you were wounded. Are you alright?"

"This is just a scratch," he said, rubbing his rib cage. "But without Jess, I wouldn't be standing here looking forward to some of your good cooking."

"That's right!" Mike pronounced, walking out of the kitchen licking something sticky off of his finger.

"Mike! What have you been nibbling on?" Daisy said in reproof.

"I just wanted to make sure the dessert was good."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Daisy shook her head and looked at Mort. "He and Jess stick their fingers into whatever pot is on the stove!"

"'The apple doesn't fall very far from the tree'," Mike quoted, licking the last finger clean.

"Oh, you!" Daisy lamented. "Don't you have something you need to do?"

"Yeah! I'll go out and see where Jess is so he won't miss the food!"

"No, Mike! Don't bother him, please!" she cried, but the boy was already halfway up the stairs.

"Don't worry! I'll be real quiet!" he promised without stopping.

"That boy!" she said, annoyed, then her voice lowered. "I don't know what he'll find up there. I hope Jess is asleep and not…"

"Doesn't the boy know how bad off Jess is?"

"Oh, Mort! You can't imagine how hard he works to hide how ill he really is from Mike - from all of us."

"I think that's just how Jess is."

"I know...but…." She sighed. "I was so happy that the two of them came home safely yesterday. Mike was the one to tell us about it. Jess didn't talk at all about it to me.

"Well, I've brought the newspaper account for you all to read." He held the paper up for her to see. "Gary Morgan wrote a good description of what happened."

"Thank you, Mort. I'll read it later. Right now I must see about getting lunch on the table. Have a seat and make yourself at home. We'll eat in a little while."

"Thanks, Miss Daisy," he said, but instead of sitting down he followed her to the kitchen and talked to her about news from Laramie that had nothing to do with the gunfight.

Upstairs, Mike was determined to see his foster father. It wasn't good when Jess slept as long as he had today.

In fact, Jess had a terrible night. About midnight, another coughing attack jerked him awake. Slim heard him and came to help him. When the coughing stopped Jess was in so much pain he asked for a dose of laudanum. The painkilling medication let him fall into a deep sleep. He woke just before noon. He was standing in front of the mirror over the washstand shaving when Mike stuck his head into the room.

"Can I come in?" Mike asked.

"Sure, Tiger. Good morning!"

"Morning?" he said, wrinkling his nose in thought and coming to stand beside Jess. "I guess you could still say that."

"Is it that late?"

"Aunt Daisy almost has lunch ready."

"I need to set the alarm clock so I can get up on time."

"Do you feel better today?"

"Yeah - thankfully."

"Then it was good you slept so long."

"You're right about that, cowboy."

Mike watched eagerly as Jess ran the razor over his cheek. "Do I have to wait for a long time before I can shave?" he asked.

Jess grinned and almost cut himself when he saw Mike imitating him with an imaginary razor. The boy was even watching him out of the corner of his eye so he could mimic his facial expressions.

"I think you got a while to go," he answered.

"Maybe it'll help if I practice doing it a lot."

"I don't think so, but you can try." Jess smeared a bit of shaving soap on the boy's cheek. "This might help."

"Yeah!" Mike said enthusiastically, spreading the soap around his face and then using his finger like a razor. "This is better! When I get old enough to shave, will I finally be grown up?"

"Almost. It sounds like you're in a mighty big hurry to get there."

"It's a lot better when you grow up," the boy said sagely.

"You think so?"

"Sure! Have you ever been the same age as me?"

"Yeah!" Jess said, "You think I hatched full-grown out of an egg or somethin'?"

"I mean when you were the same age as me, were you shaving yet?"

"No," Jess laughed. "I don't remember exactly when I started."

"Are you sure used to be as little as me? I think you've always been grown up."

"That ain't so!" Jess laughed again. "But - I didn't have anybody to talk to about the things you're asking about."

Mike was more interested in finishing his shave by washing the soap off his face than asking more questions about Jess' childhood. This was fine with Jess. He had no interest in talking about the hard times he'd had as a kid, especially with Mike.

Mike patted his face dry with a towel. "When I get big, I'm going to be just like you."

"You better wait a while before makin' up your mind about that. You might change your mind," Jess said putting on a fresh shirt.

"No, I won't. Are you always going to have to wear that bandage?"

"I hope not."

"You still hurt a lot, though."

"Sometimes."

"Like yesterday?"

"Yeah." Jess buttoned his shirt and stuffed it into his jeans. "How about helping me fix up this bed?" he asked. "It ain't so easy with one hand."

"Aunt Daisy will do that."

"She's not our maid, you rascal."

"Huh?"

"She's family, Mike, not a hired hand."

"I know that! But she told me you and Slim don't have to make up your beds - but I do!"

"Well, that's one of your chores. Me and Slim got other ones, but we ought'a do this when we can." He threw Mike a clean pillow case. "You can put this on better than me."

"Aunt Daisy just changed the sheets!" he said, puzzled and somewhat outraged by this excessive cleanliness.

"I got too hot last night," Jess dissimulated, "and I don't like sweaty pillows." He'd taken the blood-stained case off as soon as he got up.

Together they stripped the bed and tucked in clean sheets and covered everything with a colorful piecework quilt. Then Jess went over to the window and shoved it open to let in some fresh air. Outside, the November weather was cold and damp but he could see the hill behind the house through the mist. It made him think of his conversation with Slim a couple of days ago.

"It really is a peaceful place," he said softly to himself.

"What did you say?" Mike demanded from the other side of the bed.

"I said the fog has lifted," he answered, making sure to hide his sadness before he turned around. He felt scared that he'd fallen into such a dark place when Mike was nearby. He grabbed a second quilt off of a chair and folded it long ways at the foot of the bed.

Mike noticed. "I thought you got hot last night. What do you want another quilt for?"

"First I got hot, then I got cold, Mr. Nosey."

"Didn't you sleep good?"

"You can be a real pain in the neck, you know it?"

"Sorry...but did you sleep OK?"

"If you got to know, I did," Jess said, leaving out the part the dose of laudanum played. He added, "How was your night?" wanting to find out if Mike had heard him coughing.

"I sure did! I had a great dream!"

"What kind'a dream?"

"You and me had gone hunting. We rode all day and saw a huge herd of horses. When we got to the mountains, we ran into Sir Christopher and laughed at him for wearing a funny plaid jacket."

"You and Sir Christopher," Jess grinned.

"He was lost and we helped him find his old castle!"

"At least it wasn't a nightmare."

"I'm only dreaming nice dreams now."

"Well, that's good to hear."

"Yeah, now that Hal is dead. Before, I kept dreaming he came back and hurt you."

"I'm glad you're not havin' that dream anymore."

"Is Hal in hell now?"

"I don't know and I don't worry about it. I hope you don't either."

"Jess, I was really scared yesterday. Even more than when I was just dreaming about Hal. Does that...does that make me a...coward?"

"No!" Jess wrapped his arm around the boy and hugged him. "There ain't nothin' wrong with bein' scared. You're not a coward."

"But I want to be like you. You weren't afraid."

"You think I wasn't scared?"

"You didn't act like you were."

"Maybe you just didn't notice." Jess hugged him tighter. "You got to remember if we both hadn't been scared we wouldn't of survived it."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at it this way - the right kind'a fear in a situation like that keeps us on our toes. Bein' scared and bein' a coward aren't the same thing. The right kind'a fear makes you think before you do somethin' dumb. It helps you size things up and find the best way out. Without it, you can get yourself killed by runnin' into something you could've got out of. A coward closes his eyes and pretends he can't help somebody that needs help when he can. He doesn't even try to solve the problem he's facin'. He just runs away from it."

"I didn't think about helping anybody else yesterday."

"Sure you did," Jess said smiling down at him, his eyes full of affection and pride. "Aren't you forgettin' you were tryin' to help me? You saved my life."

"I was just scared of Hal."

"Yeah, bein' afraid made you do what you could do to help me."

"I just wanted to run away."

"Is that what you did?"

"No, but only because you didn't."

"What would you have done it you were alone?"

"I don't know. I would have been so scared I would have died."

"I don't think so. Think about it a minute. If I hadn't been with you and you saw Hal, would you just of run away and pretended you didn't see him?"

"I wouldn't have done that! I would have gone to the sheriff or home or somewhere and told somebody to go catch Hal."

"You see? What did we do - you and me?"

"We… Oh! I see what you mean! We went and told Sheriff Corey about him!?"

"If you get in a tight spot, you got to decide if you can handle it alone or if you need help. If you jump into somethin' with thinkin' about it or without knowin' what you're gettin' into, you're probably goin' to get hurt and get other folks hurt, too."

"Like what I did when I left the jail cell after you told me not to."

"Yeah. That was dangerous but you'd never been in a situation like that before. I bet you never do it again."

Mike shook his head. "Never!" he vowed.

"I hope nothin' like that happens again."

"You and me both." Jess ran his hand back and forth in Mike's hair. Mike turned and twisted his head under his foster father's hand, savoring his touch, enjoying the relief of Jess' assurance that he wasn't the coward he'd feared he was.

Jess released the boy and reached for the medicine bottle holding the tablets Dan had given him yesterday. He fished a pill out and swallowed it with a long drink of water.

Mike watched him, suddenly worried. "Are you taking that pill because...you're hurting?"

"No, it's just to help things work better. I got pretty tired yesterday."

Mike took the brown bottle and tried to decipher the label on it but gave up. "Can you read this?"

"No, Doc Higgins is probably the only one who can."

"What kind of language is it?"

"Latin, probably."

"Latin? Nobody can read that can they?"

"Maybe that's the point."

"I don't understand."

"That's OK. Sometimes it's better not to understand everything." His vivid blue eyes met Mike's brown ones. "I don't."

Mike laughed, relieved once again, this time by Jess' confession, but he quickly reverted to being serious. "Do you still have to take a lot of the other kind of medicine?"

"Not much. Only when I don't feel good."

"But you're OK now, right?"

"Don't worry about me, Tiger."

Jess didn't have the heart to talk to him about Colorado Springs right now. He was glad that after yesterday's experience the boy could talk to him openly about whatever was on his mind. He didn't want him to have to deal with another to shock right now, even though he knew no matter how long he waited it would be hard to make the boy understand without breaking his heart.

"I might be a doctor when I grow up," Mike said. "Then I can help you if you get sick again - and I'll be able to read what's on a medicine bottle! Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Sure, if that's what you want to do, you ought to do it."

"I'll have to study a lot, won't I?"

"Yeah, I think so. But you'll have to do that no matter what you do."

"Do you think I can be a doctor?"

"I don't see any reason why not."

"But I'd rather be like you."

"You can do that and still be a doctor."

"How could I be a doctor and run a ranch, too?"

"It'd keep you busy, that's for sure. Both are full-time jobs."

"Yeah…" Trying to decide between the two jobs was making Mike's head ache.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it right now, Mike," Jess said. "You got a lot of time to make up your mind. Heck, you might want to run a train or build a bridge. There's a lot of things you can do. Right now all you need to do is go to school and study hard."

"I'd rather know right now!"

"I can tell," Jess said grinning. "But in a couple of years you'll remember what I'm tellin' you now and you'll be glad you took my advice."

"You know a whole lot, Jess. Did you learn all that in school?"

"Nah. I learned from experience and a lot of hard knocks. But I want you to have it easier than I did."

"You didn't have it easy?"

"No. I'll tell you about it some other time."

"Did you know you were going to be like you are today?"

"I never thought about it."

"Well, I'm glad you're the way you are and not like Mr. Courtney. He gets drunk and beats Danny. I wouldn't love somebody like that."

"I don't blame you."

"Jess, will you go hunting in the mountains with me soon?" Mike said in a sudden switch of topics.

"You're still thinkin' about that dream and Sir Christopher, right?"

"Oh, you!" He gave Jess a playful shove. "I want to go because it's so exciting when we're in the mountains."

"I'm afraid we won't be goin' anytime soon, Mike."

"Why? Because winter is coming or because you're sick?"

"Both."

"But some day you'll be well, again and we'll go, won't we?"

"Sure we will."

Jess realized he was missing a good time to talk to Mike about Colorado Springs but he couldn't make himself do it. The noisy rattle of an incoming stage came in through the open window and gave him a reason to postpone things.

"That's the stage from Cheyenne!" he said, surprised. "It's noon already!"

"That's what I said when I came in here!" Mike replied with some exasperation.

Jess reached up to close the window but intense pain shot through his chest and caused him to gasp and double over.

"Wait, I'll help you!" Mike immediately ran over and pulled the window down, looking at Jess concern.

"It's...not bad," Jess said, fighting for enough breath to speak. "I forget I need to be more careful." He forced an innocent grin and ran his hand through Mike's hair again. "Don't worry."

"You have to be more careful or you'll never get better!"

"You're right." He tasted blood in his mouth but ignored it, swallowing it down. "Why don't you go down and see who's on the stagecoach?

"The sheriff's downstairs, too."

"Mort's here?"

"Yeah. He said he needs you to finish his report."

"Well, we better not keep him waitin'."

"We got time. He's staying to eat."

"Combinin' duty and pleasure again, huh?" Jess forced another grin. "You go on down. I'll be right behind you."

"Why can't you come now? We cleaned up the bed better than Aunt Daisy could."

"You got that right. Now get a move on."

Mike got the feeling Jess was trying to get rid of him. "Are you coming, too?"

"In a minute."

The boy shrugged and shook his head but reluctantly obeyed. Out in the hall, he heard muffled coughing coming from Jess' room. He wanted to go back and help his foster father but he knew Jess had deliberately sent him away so he wouldn't see how sick he was. Jess always acted like he was alright in front of him but Mike wasn't easily fooled. The boy's face fell and he bit his lip, close to tears as he stood in front of Jess' door, not knowing what to do.

Fortunately, the attack was not a bad one but when Jess saw fresh blood on the pillow he's covered his mouth with, he realized it was worse than he wanted it to be. He rummaged through a drawer and found two large handkerchiefs he'd never had to use before. "It's really time for me to get out of here," he thought, stuffing the handkerchiefs in his pocket while taking a look at himself in the mirror. It shocked him to see how emaciated his body looked. Seeing the reality of his condition made him more determined than ever to protect Mike from knowing how sick he really was, no matter how hard that was to do.

END OF CHAPTER 26