Chapter 24 - Dashing

Annie told him he was doing the right thing. He hoped it was, agreeing to spend a men's-night with Troy and Abed in Pierce's saloon.

She also told him that he couldn't spend the evening trying to persuade Troy to cancel the wedding, especially sinceTroy told him the reason they set the wedding two weeks after they announced it: Brita was pregnant.

"You're an idiot," Jeff huffed when Troy told him. "You made the most common mistake in the book and let a woman trick you with the pregnancy trap."

"She didn't trap me," Troy objected. "It was… there was a thunder storm, and she was scared…"

"Sounds like a trap to me."

"Boss. It wasn't. We didn't think…"

"So you're an idiot for not being careful. You know nothing?"

Troy lowered his head and admitted that no, he didn't know. And he asked Jeff to sit with him and Abed for an evening, and Pierce's saloon was the perfect place for a men's gathering. Alcohol, that was the ingredient that made the whole thing work.

Pierce gave them a bottle of beer on the house, and intended to join them, but it was a busier evening than usual, so he didn't join them for now.

"It means a lot to me that you're here," Troy said. "My two best friends."

"Ahum," Abed gave him a refined guilt-inducing look.

"...My best friend and my boss."

"Uhm-hm," Abed gave his consent and raised his glass to Troy.

"He's not talking tonight?" Jeff asked Troy.

"Rachel made a bet with him that he can't express himself without words. He's been like this all day."

"Ah-ha," Abed nodded. Then he performed a kind of trick with his eyebrows that shouldn't be possible on a human face.

Jeff flinched and told Troy, "Let's swap places."

"No problem, boss."

After Jeff sat on Troy's other side, he raised his glass. "To the groom. That he may not live to regret his decision!"

"Hmmm!" Abed protested.

Jeff smiled. "Annie isn't here to stop me from saying what I think, Abed. And it's true."

"It isn't." Troy shook his head. "We're not even certain she's pregnant…"

"You're not sure?! Then why are you getting married?"

Troy hesitated. He rattled the alcohol in his glass, and finally swallowed its entire content at once. "Because it's the right thing to do. I've damaged her honor."

Jeff snorted.

"She didn't tell me anything afterwards. I mean, she didn't tell me I must marry her." Troy sank back in his chair. "She kissed me the next day, outside the doctor's house." He touched his lips. "And I didn't want it to end. I wanted to find her in my bed every night. And when I realized she might be pregnant, I ran all the way to ask her to marry me. I'm lucky she agreed."

Jeff sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but Troy, she's the lucky one for getting you as a husband. You're the man every mother hopes to find for her daughter."

"Wow, thanks, boss." Troy grinned. "But I need your help. Can I ask for it?"

"Ask away," Jeff gestured generously, "no promises, though."

Abed let out a laugh.

"...But feel free to give it a try."

Troy turned in his chair towards Jeff. "I need you to give me marriage advice. How to be a good husband."

Jeff rubbed his forehead. "And you're asking me?"

Troy shrugged. "I would ask my dad, but you know my parents both died of yellow fever. I have no one to ask. And you and Annie... I know it didn't start perfect, but you're happy together… seems to me."

Abed made a sound of agreement, and motioned for the bartendress to refill their glasses.

Jeff closed his eyes and imagined Annie stroking his cheek and telling him on his way out, 'You're doing the right thing. Troy needs you.'

"Fine. What do you want to know?"

"Oh! Just… In general, you know. How to be a good husband."

Jeff sighed. "I have no idea. I've been asking the same question from the moment Annie said 'I do.' I've yet to find an answer. If something works about us, it's because of her."

Abed clicked his tongue and shook his head from side to side.

"Really. I'm trying to be good to her, but who knows how successful I am? I'm trying to protect her, keep my promises… Listen to her. When she talks, be with her. Don't just think about the next time you can take off her-" he cleared his throat, "...You know."

"And do you succeed?"

Jeff chuckled. "Not really, but also… I care. I care to hear what she says, and the fear that I might miss something important always makes me listen, eventually."

"Something important? Like what?"

"For example, if she's not happy with something. If she's not happy with you. Or she'd ask you for something, or tell you something she's been through that could explain her mood. Sometimes she doesn't tell you what's wrong, and you have to figure out what made her give you only one-word answers."

"Wow, that sounds hard..."

"You have no idea."

"But… why won't she tell you what the problem is?"

"No, she does tell, but with women it hides behind other words. You have to pay attention. She won't tell you that you smell like a beast and should shower more, but she will complain that the neighbor soiled her floor with mud."

Troy stared at him.

"The neighbor is getting her floor dirty. That means she likes a clean house. A clean house, all the more a clean husband. You need to take a shower, pal."

Abed nodded while Troy stared speechless, but Jeff was on a roll.

"And one more thing - you need to be aware of her signs. She doesn't always want to sleep with you. Sometimes women are very clear on the matter, and sometimes they... prefer you to go along with them, but you still have to make sure."

Troy's complexion paled considerably. "I didn't even think of that! We only did it once. At the time she… she said she wanted to."

"So it's fine. And if you satisfied her, then you can expect a second time." He mulled over it for a moment. "She agreed to marry you, so that's a pretty good sign, I'll say."

"What do you mean 'satisfied her'? How do I know I satisfied her?"

Jeff rubbed his whole face and said through his teeth, "Troy, do you have any experience with women?"

Troy shook his head. "My parents were... very Catholic."

"Hmm," Jeff growled. "Great."

Abed put a hand on Troy's arm, pointed at himself and then at Jeff. Troy translated, "Abed also wants to hear what you have to say."

Hell, they're going to twist his hand until he talks about it.

Jeff waved his empty mug at the bartendress. "I need more alcohol for this." After emptying two glasses in quick succession, he said, "You can't miss it when you... satisfy her. You can feel that she..."

"Yes?"

Jeff demonstrated with both hands, rolling his eyes at the boys' puzzled looks. He added, "They are usually quite loud as well."

Troy still looked rattled. "I'm definitely not sure I did it! How do I make sure she's satisfied?"

There were thousands of other things Jeff would have preferred to do, but he pushed up his sleeves and did what needed to be done: he took olives from a bowl on the counter and arranged them on the counter to the best of his ability, giving a basic explanation of the woman form and what women like. He thought of all the women who had taught him how to please a woman and led him to this day in Pierce's saloon, and thought to himself with melancholy that Rachel and Brita would have to send him flowers every year to thank him for the sacrifice he made for them tonight.

"It's crazy," Troy murmured with wide eyes, staring at the model Jeff had created. "It… has nothing to do with what we like. I mean… they don't need us at all... inside them."

"I know, and for some reason they still want to sleep with us. Only the gods can explain the logic of that." Then he pushed the olives and destroyed the model, when Pierce approached them.

"Hey, boys! What are we talking about?"

"We're talking about…" Troy started, but Jeff hissed, "Shut up, fool!"

"Why?"

Abed began to cough, gripping the counter with one hand and his throat with the other. Troy shouted and grabbed him, preventing him from slipping from his chair. "What? What is it? Abed, talk to me!" Abed pointed to the olives resting on the table.

Pierce said, "He swallowed an olive!"

Jeff jumped to catch him and squeeze his abdomen to force the olive out, but at the last minute he saw the spark in Abed's eyes, and changed direction. "Pierce, you must call the doctor!" Pierce stared at him, and Jeff shouted, "Now, Pierce!"

The man jumped and ran out of the saloon.

Abed straightened up, making light coughing noises, and sipped from his glass.

Troy took a minute, standing with his finger raised in the air, until he eventually caught on. "You faked choking to get rid of Pierce? Why?"

"Pierce knows nothing about women," Jeff said. "And worse, he thinks they were created to please him. You know he was married five times? He's not a widower, Troy. He's a divorcee. Somewhere in this world there are five women who married Pierce and very quickly realized that nothing is worth being Ms. Hawthorne, if that means being married to Pierce. "

"You are cruel to him," Troy said. "He's not my favorite person, but Annie is right. He's contributed a lot to the organization."

"One good deed in his life," Jeff said. "But I wouldn't even let him breathe on my daughter. If I had one."

"Awww," Abed said. Then he covered his mouth with a slap, and stared at Troy in horror.

"It doesn't count as a word, you're in the clear." Troy reassured him.

Jeff took a seat on Abed's side, and Troy leaned over to hear what he had to say. "Anyway, here's another tip for you." His head began to reel from the alcohol, but not terribly. But he certainly felt more talkative than usual. "If you want to be a good husband, think 'what can I do for my wife?' More than you think 'What can my wife do for me?' And if you can, don't think it at all. Don't be egotistical."

"What can I do for my wife?" Troy repeated slowly. "Got it... think about her, not me."

"And it's true in your shared life in general," Jeff said, "but also when you're in bed together. Women are more complicated than us, softer. You have to put more effort in order to please them. But when you succeed… it's better than your own pleasure. I know that sounds absurd… but it's true."

Abed put his hand on Jeff's shoulder, and looked at his face. Jeff wondered what he was trying to tell him now, because his expression was completely blank. But Troy probably understood what Abed was trying to say, because he said, his speech slower from the beer, "Exactly! Jeff, I think you love her."

"What?" His head shot back to Troy. "What are you talking about?"

"You care more about her happiness than yours," Troy said simply. "That is Love."

"Love is a lie invented by women who tried to prevent their men from cheating on them," Jeff said. "I know it's not what you want to hear when you're about to get married, but it's a lie. There is lust, and there is attraction. But love doesn't exist."

"Did you hear yourself just now?"

"I heard myself say that love doesn't exist."

"No, I mean… before that." His speech was less intelligible, and he leaned on the counter a little too much, as if trying not to fall.

"Troy, you're drunk."

"Am not!" The lad knocked on the table and almost dropped his glass. He grabbed the glass before it fell, muttering, "Fine... maybe I am."

Jeff said, "We need to take you to bed. The evening's festivities are over."

"I don't need..." but he let Abed and Jeff grab him from each side and lead him out.

They reached the end of the road when they saw Pierce standing in the middle of the street, his hand on his back, panting and squinting. When he saw them he straightened up. "Mr. Nadir..! You're fine! I was on my way... to the doctor."

Jeff waved at him. "Everything's fine, Pierce. Abed is fine. You can go back to the saloon. Good evening."

Troy murmured as he struggled to walk straight, "good thing we found him... before he got t'the doctor. Pierce would've called him... for nothing."

Abed huffed.

Troy said, "But how did'ja know he wouldn't... make it to the doctor?"

Abed made another noise.

"Hmmm. 'sa good point."

The night was quiet. The town was still mostly empty, as the war continued, and the days began to lengthen towards the coming of spring. They strolled to the inn, three half-drunk men.

Troy said, "Jeff, what d'you love 'bout Annie?"

"I don't love her."

"Yeah yeah, Pfff." Troy waved it off. "But what... d'you love 'bout her? Like, 'bout her... body."

"What the hell, Troy?"

"Hey! I'm your... 'mployee! This's no way t'talk to... your 'mployee."

Jeff groaned. "Why do you want to know?"

"I have to stop... thinking 'bout Brita. She's still living in the inn. I... if I keep thinking 'bout her then I'mma go to her room. Don't want her t'see me like... this."

That was reasonable enough. Or maybe not, but he too drank a fair amount of beer tonight, and it's been a long time since he drank so much. "Love her breasts," he said without thinking. "Hmm... Yes. She looks good in everything she wears. Corset, no corset, doesn't matter. Looks fantastic. Of course it's best without any clothes on."

Abed made a squeamish sound.

Troy said, "Abed, 's fine… it distracts me."

"And she's beautiful cheeks. Darn cheeks. You know I've never noticed women's cheeks? Eyes or mouth, that's what it was about. And Annie has that too, angel eyes and a mouth… But she also has those cheeks…" he tried to draw them in the air with one hand, the one that didn't hold Troy, and gave up. "They... complement her face."

Troy murmured, "Brita 'as nice cheeks..."

Jeff ignored him. "And her big eyes. I love it when she looks at me. Sometimes I get lost in the smoke, looking for a way out for hours, and staying there so long I become smoke myself, and when I wake up she looks at me with her eyes and creates me out of the smoke again."

Abed and Troy were very quiet.

Jeff started crying, not knowing why. Probably from the damn alcohol. "Sometimes it feels like I lived for years in the smoke… I dream about it every night since the war, but I think I've known it since I was a child. Such evils there are in the world. Bad people. People who are smoke. And I was smoke, too, for many years. I was bad. And I tried to stop being smoke after I came to Greendale and met Shirley, but I never really left it. And Annie… She holds me with both hands and makes me believe I'm not smoke. That I deserve to live, that I have salvation." He cried like a baby. "I love that she believes in me."

Troy stopped in the middle of the street and told him, "Jeff, you're not smoke. I love you, brother." And he hugged him. Abed hugged him from the other side. And Jeff cried, and because he was drunk, he didn't care.

:::

A surprising number of women from town kept their wedding dresses, of which a surprising number agreed to lend it to Brita.

Annie accompanied her search a week after the wedding was announced, and after trying on a number of dresses, the dress was found at Florence Duncan. It was cream-colored, embroidered with a delicate pattern of a climbing plant in white. A modest lace decolletage and close fitted sleeves made it simple yet becoming. The skirt wasn't as wide as the fashion demanded (wider than a doorway) which suited Brita's unique look.

Annie wondered what dress she would have worn if she could've prepared in advance for her wedding with Jeff. The dress she liked best was of shiny ivory fabric with small bouquets scattered all over, with a triangular neckline framed in plunging pleats. She enjoyed imagining herself in it and Jeff in a new suit, even though it was a futile dream.

Jeff didn't understand why she was giving so much thought to dresses, but she didn't even try to explain to him. "You're a man," she told him as she wore the dress she had chosen for the wedding (an amber dress with a puffy skirt and a Bertha collar tied at the front like a corset). "There are things you don't need to understand."

The wedding took place on a Sunday afternoon. Annie didn't teach that day. Instead she woke up late, bathed leisurely and arranged perfect symmetrical curls, and adorned them with fabric flowers in the same hue as her dress, which Florence made for her. Jeff wore a dark grey jacket and a black coat that she didn't even know were in his possession, and looked dashing as he arranged his hair in front of the mirror, as if he had never been wounded-in-war-lost-weight-forced-to-lean-on-Brita-to-walk.

But Annie knew he was different.

"We both look better than the day we got married," Jeff remarked as they strolled to the church with their arms linked. "Makes you think."

"About what?"

"That it wasn't the best day of our marriage."

"Certainly not. I was attacked that day, and you were tired and didn't even want to sleep with me in the same bed."

"Yeah, but… that was the first time I kissed you."

Annie looked at him from the corner of her eye. She didn't know it meant anything to him. After all, the infamous Jeff Winger kissed many women. But she thought she knew what he meant. "Yeah, it was… I mean…" She waved in the air, not knowing how to describe the transcendence she felt when Jeff kissed her hesitantly and then with passion, and her body was a river that had reached a cliff. It was the beginning of her feelings for him, feelings that eventually turned into love. "...intense."

"Hmm," Jeff said. "I know what you mean."

The church was full when they arrived. Rachel and Florence Duncan waved to Annie. Pierce kissed her hand and insisted on shaking Jeff's. Mrs. Sheila Baker sat on a pew on one side of the church, and on the other side sat, surprisingly, Kyle and Nicole James. Annie tried to catch Nicole's eye, but the woman stared at her lap and didn't raise her head for anyone.

"Why are they here?" Annie whispered to Jeff.

Jeff followed her gaze until he found the couple. "Not sure, but I believe Kyle is friends with Troy."

"Oh."

Troy was well liked by most of the townspeople: women and boys filled the church pews, and even Mayor Palton and his sister, Miss Dart, attended the ceremony.

The groom himself stood next to Reverend Garrity, in a black vest and a red bow tie. Above him, flowering branches adorned the walls and added a pleasant scent to the room. Abed stood behind him. Troy wanted him as his best man, but since Brita had no bridesmaids, he decided to give up the custom. But Abed still stood by him, making sure everything went smoothly.

Shirley sat with her husband in the front and waved Annie over. Annie pulled Jeff and sat him down in the empty seats Shirley saved for them.

Mrs. Ramley sat down by the organ, and began the wedding melody.

The guests turned around when Brita came in the door, on the arm of the silver-haired Dr. Baker, who agreed to give her instead of her parents. She was a spectacle with yellow flowers in her hands, complimenting her natural ringlets which were perfect and shiny courtesy of Shirley, under a long lace veil that reached almost to her feet. She looked like a Russian princess, or a fairy who only appears on full moon nights. Annie wiped a covert tear.

The bride's eyes were fixed on Troy with a shy, somewhat apprehensive smile. She didn't look to the sides, as if she feared that if she looked away and not at Troy, he would disappear. The groom looked almost as nervous as her, but he gave her a typical Troy smile, complete with white teeth and dimples, and she calmed considerably and accelerated the pace.

Dr. Baker walked her until they reached Troy, and after thanking him, Father Garrity started his speech. "Dearly Beloved, We have gathered here today to witness the union of Mr. Troy Barnes and Miss Brita Perry, in holy matrimony..."

Annie only half listened. She remembered the darkness that prevailed outside on a summer night, instead of the winter afternoon light, and the wild crowd that needed shushing so the priest could say his piece. She remembered the conversation he had with her before he agreed to marry them.

…"Miss Edison, a word?" The priest asked her, and she let go of Jeff's arm. She was so scared, and when she grabbed him it gave her a certain amount of comfort.

The priest led her to the side of the room, away from the sheriff's hearing, and Annie glanced at him for a moment. He looked worried, though he pretended to be unfazed.

"Why are you doing this?" The priest got to the point.

"The sheriff and I have reached an understanding..."

"Your dress is torn," the priest said. "Miss Edison, I don't suspect our sheriff of misconduct, but you see my concern."

Annie lowered her eyes to the floor. "The sheriff didn't do this," she murmured. "I walked past a pub and some drunks thought they could play. The sheriff and I had been thinking about getting married for a while… and I would feel more confident if we did it today." She didn't lie.

"Oh," the priest said, looking at the collection of intoxicated men sitting on the pews, blabbering on and trying to lick the last drops out of nearly empty bottles. "I see. So... are you certain?"

"Yes. I know what I'm doing."

..."These two people came to this institution to unite. If anyone can show just cause..."

Jeff touched her hand and whispered, "Is the baby kicking?"

It did, actually. She took his hand discreetly and placed it on the spot where the movement could be felt. On the inside it felt much weirder than on the outside, but it was still satisfying to see his stunned expression every time he felt the movements.

"…Who gives this woman to marry this man?"

Dr. Baker stood next to Brita. "My wife and I are standing in the place of Mr. and Mrs. Perry, who due to the circumstances, couldn't attend the wedding."

Father Garrity gave Brita and Troy an incredulous look. "What do the people in this town have against a normal marriage ceremony? Fine, let's move on."

Jeff murmured to Annie, "We should've asked Abed to give you away. He would've loved that."

Annie concealed a giggle.

"And now for the vows," the priest said. "I believe you know them already?"

Troy nodded and turned to Brita, holding her hands. "I'll start."

She smiled at him, her eyes bright.

"Miss Brita Perry," Troy began, his voice trembling only slightly. "I take thee-"

Screams were heard from outside.

"-to be my lawfully wedded…" Troy realized what he was hearing and stopped. "What the hell?"

The church door opened with a kick from outside, and Vicky stepped in, a scream dying on her lips. "They're here again!"

Next to Annie, Jeff jumped. "Who?"

"The raiders!... The raiders came back to Greendale!"

:::

Jeff stood, his head throbbing and his thoughts racing.

They're here. They came. Despite everything he did, they came.

The church was abuzz. Miss Dart, the mayor's sister, shouted, "Everyone QUITE!"

Jeff took advantage of the pause when people fell silent, and shouted, "Anyone who has a weapon, go get it! Everyone else, stay here or go take shelter!"

"Annie," he turned to her and helped her stand from the pew. "Go home. Actually, you know what? Go with Shirley to the inn. I'd rather you be with people."

"And you? Where are you going?"

"To do something about the bandits!" He turned to Troy. "Troy, come with me."

"Boss…" Troy sounded tortured, looking at Brita, who was still holding his hand.

"If you care about her, you better come with me than stay here!"

Troy nodded, kissed her hand and went after Jeff through the hubbub of the anxious guests. Some had already left the church, but the rest didn't know what to do.

Kyle James stopped Jeff before they got to the door. "I have a rifle that the army gave me, but I'm not much of a shot…"

"Go get it, someone else can use it," Jeff said. Nicole stood behind her husband, her face as white as a sheet.

"Did you know about this?" He asked her, not bothering to lower his voice amid the commotion.

"What? No!"

He believed her. She may have loved Stephen, but he probably didn't tell her about his actions. Or at least not about the raid.

"Where are we going, boss?"

"Do you have your gun?"

"It's in the office."

Jeff nodded, placing his hand on the gun on his thigh. "Mine's here. Let's go get yours."

He nodded to Miss Dart, who stopped him at the exit. "Ma'am, we're going to get a weapon, then we'll take care of the raiders."

"All right, Mr. Winger. But don't forget we're here, if you need anything."

He wasn't sure what he needed, but he nodded nonetheless.

There was outcry outside, as men, women and children ran and hurried to get inside the houses. Jeff looked left and right, not detecting even a solitary bandit on the streets. "You!" He pointed to Vicky who came out after them. "Where are the raiders?"

"They stand at the city entrance and demand that we bring them all our money and jewelry," Vicky said. "If not, they'll come to loot us themselves. Sheriff, they don't seem nice!"

"They never do, do they?" Jeff said absently. "Thank you, ma'am."

They ran to the office, and Jeff drummed his foot while Troy searched for his gun. It took a few minutes until he found the weapon and tied the belt with the holster around his waist.

Then they went to the city entrance.

The bandits filled the open road, just across the square, about fifty men on muscular horses, armed to the teeth with rifles and knives. Almost everyone wore bandoliers in an X formation on their chests, and tied kerchiefs over their mouths.

With the hats and kerchiefs it was difficult to identify anyone, so there was a reasonable chance that Stephen was somewhere in the middle of the bunch. Jeff couldn't find him.

The leader marched his horse forward. Long hair covered his shoulders, and a long mustache fell down either side of his mouth, the kerchief shoved under his chin. He wore a long reddish-brown coat, and carried on his person only two weapons: a machete and a pistol. Jeff has never met him, but he recognized him from his descriptions: "Rogue Bill."

"Jeff Winger," replied Bill Hitchcock, famously known as 'Rogue Bill'. "So good it's you! We were afraid someone else would show up, but we all wanted to see you. We heard so much."

"Hmm," Jeff gave a non-committed grunt. "You shouldn't have come here."

"Because of your corn field workers?" Rogue Bill said. "Yes, Stephen checked on your story. After a week of searching he came to the conclusion that you got no fields, no people, and not a trace of dignity."

Jeff swallowed. So they figured out his lie.

"Stephen," he called. "You're here?"

A bandit with a white hat moved his horse forward. "You should've joined us when you had the chance," Stephen said, and though his mouth was hidden under the kerchief, his smile was heard in the words. His white hat was suspiciously similar to the cowboy hat the Mayor wore for his sheriff's costume.

"Is this the lauded Jeff Winger?" The Rogue Bill turned to Stephen. "I'm regretful to tell you, Stephen, but I'm disappointed."

Stephen shrugged. "Every good fruit is doomed to rot eventually."

Troy whispered beside Jeff, "What are they talking about?"

"Doesn't matter," Jeff whispered back.

"So here's the thing," Rogue Bill said. "Bring us all the money you have, and we won't hurt you. Quite simple."

"Is that all? Is that the big plan?" Jeff said, trying to stall for time.

Stephen laughed humorlessly. "We had another plan, but we realized that as long as you are the sheriff of the town, we can't carry it out. So we decided on a simpler plan."

"My people slept well last night," Rogue Bill leaned comfortably on his horse's neck, as if he were sitting in a parlor, having a small talk over tea. "And every night since the last raid, six months ago. They are full of energy, and want to go out again. Who misses looting and demolition?" He asked the company behind him.

The men cheered.

"And new women?"

They cheered again, smirking.

"And trampling men and children whose faces we don't like?"

The group cheered again and moved their horses so the noise grew louder.

Troy murmured behind Jeff, "Mother Mary and baby Jesus..." Jeff didn't have to look to know that his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

Rogue Bill smiled at Jeff. "As you can see, they are ready and willing for the possibility that you will say no, and then we will do it the hard way. But if you choose the easy way, collect all the money and jewelry in one place by midnight tomorrow, my men will be willing to give up the pleasures of raiding - and leave. What do you say?"

Jeff shifted his gaze between Bill and Stephen. There was something, something he almost recalled, something important. He didn't want any of the options Rogue Bill offered him. Cruel murder, rape and looting were terrible, but also the loss of all capital in the town - it would be a catalyst for poverty and deprivation, and ultimately death from starvation, cold and disease. The two visions were bad on different levels, and although one was dozens of times worse than the other, Jeff was also unwilling to choose the possibility of slow death and misery.

Troy grabbed his arm and said quietly, "Why are you debating?! Have you seen them? We can't fight them! We have maybe five people who can fight, and they have a hundred!"

"They have fifty," Jeff let out from the corner of his mouth. "But if I just..."

"We don't have your squad here, Jeff! Only you!"

Only him.

One person who was able to shoot a gun, a rifle, and use a knife. The determined commander in the war against Mexico. The sheriff who led the removal of Dirty Bob's bandits. He was able to fight. But in his current state, he was only able to beat one person, and only if he didn't have to run or ride a horse…

He remembered.

"A duel," he blurted out.

"What?" Rogue Bill leaned toward him on his horse, as if he hadn't heard him well. But he did.

"I challenge you to a duel," Jeff repeated. "One of ours versus one of yours. Our best versus your best."

The men behind Bill murmured to each other, and Troy whispered in distress, "What are you doing, Jeff?!"

"Trust me," he whispered to Troy. He called out to the bandits. "You know about me - well, I know about you! You claim that you are dishonorable people, that murder and rape are an afterthought for you, but you do have honor. And I know this: if the people of a town dare to challenge you to a duel, you must agree. It's a matter of honor."

The bandits growled and resented, and all alike eventually turned to their leader. "Bill," his name was repeated in a throaty growl, and Jeff prayed that he didn't find the first bandits who decided to ignore this law.

The head of the bandits raised his fist in the air, silencing the noise. "My men, I know your hearts, and feel your agony. But…" he turned to Jeff, "we will accept the challenge."

The bandits expressed their consent with thunderous "Yes".

Stephen protested. "Bill, you can't accept this!"

"You know the law as well as I do," Bill told him. "A duel must be accepted." He turned to Jeff again. "Our best versus your best. I assume it's you, Winger?"

"Yes."

"If you win, we will leave your people in peace, and move on, as you requested. You, of course, won't report us to the authorities or send bounty hunters after us, not even after the war is over. And if we win…"

"All the money in one place," Jeff said quietly, fixing his gaze on the bandits' leader. "By midnight tomorrow."

Stephen James brought his horse forward. "Meet you tomorrow morning, Winger? In the town square?"

Jeff shot his head in Stephen's direction. "You? I'm going to face you?"

"I'm the best," Stephen shrugged. "But you should have known that."

"Alright," Jeff said, ignoring Stephen's remark. "Tomorrow morning, you and me, town Square."

"Don't bring a doctor," Stephen said. "I'm shooting to kill." And he touched the brim of his white hat as a 'goodbye'.

Before Jeff could answer, Rogue Bill raised his open palm and shouted, "Out!" And turned around. The frightening group dashed after him.

Troy looked after them with round eyes and a gaping mouth. "What just happened?"

Jeff ignored him. "I also," he said to Stephen's diminishing figure, "shoot to kill."

:::

As soon as she heard the inn door close, Annie got up from the couch and ran to Jeff.

"Annie," he began when she took his hands and examined his body, legs, torso and face, looking for wounds, blood - anything. She found nothing but dry mud on his shoes and pants.

"You're fine," she sighed, "you're not hurt!"

"Not a scratch," Jeff gave her a reassuring smile.

"It's just a matter of time though," Troy said behind him, and Jeff walked inside to let him in. Annie didn't let go of his hands.

"Miss Annie, is Brita here?"

"Yes. She's in her room. Troy, I'm sorry about the wedding."

"Me too." And he went upstairs without looking back.

Annie pulled Jeff to sit on the long couch in front of the fireplace in the inn's parlor. The room was empty at this late hour. Brita cried when she ran to her room, and Shirley, who had finally warmed up to the nurse, went after her to comfort her. That was about an hour ago. Annie didn't know what took so long, but she knew the bandits didn't loot the town, so something must have happened.

"Tell me about it," Annie said, holding his hand. "What did Troy mean? It's only a matter of time?"

He sighed and looked at the fire. "I made a deal with the raiders."

Troy's voice from the stairs made her jump. "He's gonna fight one of them in a duel in the morning."

"You what?!" she put a hand on her heart, refusing to believe, but there was no reason for Troy to invent such a thing. The image of Jeff holding a gun and at the mercy of a bandit caused her heart to plummet to her belly. "You can't-"

"This is our only chance to be saved," Troy said grimly.

Jeff said, "Why are you here, Troy?" His voice was almost normal, but a note of danger was woven into it.

"Brita is asleep. I don't want to disturb her. And me, I can't sleep…" he came, pulling a chair from the large table behind the couch. "Jeff, what the hell was that? How did you know so much about them? Why did Stephen talk about you? Why did that bandit think you were some person who's important to know?"

"Stephen talks too much," Jeff said.

"What Stephen?" Annie asked. She had a hard time keeping track of their exchanges, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Stephen James," Jeff said. "Kyle James' brother."

"The one that Nicole… loves?"

"Yes."

"Why… Why was he with the bandits?"

Troy said, "He's one of them. And it seems to me that Jeff used to be one of them, too."

Jeff, her Jeff, turned to look at him sharply. "I've never been a bandit."

Of course not. He was Greendale's beloved sheriff.

"Yeah? So why did they talk about you like you used to be one? And why, why did you tell them you knew them?"

Jeff was silent.

Annie held his hand, feeling his grip slack. He stared at the fire and said nothing. She raised her hand to touch his cheek. "Jeffrey?" She murmured. "Explain yourself."

:::

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AN: Poor Troy and Brita… can't catch a break.

Did you really think Jeff got rid of Stephen? I'm curious to know if I was able to surprise you with this chapter's bandits attack.

Reviewers are the best and I appreciate you deeply!

Next up: explanations, finally.

DFTBA