Chapter Eight

"Mort!" Jess hollered, waiting to see if Slim's eyes would pop open at the raising of his voice, but as the lashes remained lowered, he let the gravel fly. "Is that you?"

"Yes! Up here!"

The call rolled rapidly down the cliff side and landed in Jess' ear, making him scramble out of the coach to see the sheriff standing on top of the ridge, but he wasn't alone. Along with Wiley on horseback, seated in a wagon was Jonesy, Andy and Doctor Hanson, and the one who had brought them there was tied to the rear, Traveler. His relief had come in multitudes, but the emotion inside of Jess' body would get reserved for another time, for now the only haggard step that was left to take was to know if it had come in time.

"How do we get down there?" Mort hollered the question through cupped hands.

"It ain't easy," Jess shouted the return as his eyes traced the ground he had haphazardly traversed. The sheriff, yes, but his route certainly wouldn't do for two older men and a boy. "Toss some rope over and I'll help you down one at a time!"

He couldn't hear the exchange that occurred at the top, but Jess could guess by the gestures that Mort was instructing Wiley to keep the position on the road while the others found the ground below. It was Mort's legs that fit into Jess' hands first as the lowering began, and then with two stout men on the bottom, another rope was swung over which brought the other three in a quick drop to the broken stagecoach and the man that lay inside of it.

"Inside, Doc," Jess said with a point, not surprised when Jonesy squeezed in beside him, and although Jess would have rather been one of the closest observers, it was more of a necessity to stay outside. Reaching out a hand, Jess' grip clamped onto Andy's shoulder, stopping him from taking another step toward the coach, and as soon as brown met blue, the boy melted into his embrace.

"I know I'm too big to cry," Andy said, sniffling into Jess' chest.

"Ain't so," Jess answered, his breath parting Andy's hair as he spoke. "I'm a lot older than you and if I could get my eyes to match how I feel inside, they'd be shedding out enough drops to make a lake. What's most important is that we don't let those tears do us in. We gotta stay strong for Slim, and each other."

"I'm not sure if I can." Andy pulled away from Jess, his right hand wiping away the beads of moisture from his face as his overflowing eyes sought the clarity of Jess'.

"You're here, ain't you?" Jess waited for Andy to nod before he continued. "That's strength in itself. Tap into that, and the rest will find its place. Come on, Andy, the fire's still burning hot. It might not change what's going on inside, but it'll take care of the shivers you feel on your skin."

"You're not going to stay?" Andy quickly tugged on Jess' arm when Jess motioned for Andy to take a seat on a rock near the fire, but gave no indication that he was going to sit beside him.

"I wanna talk to Mort for a minute," Jess said, using both hands to lower Andy to the rocky chair. "I won't be far."

"Who was he, Jess?" Mort asked when Jess stilled his position beside him at the edge of the grave site.

"Dunno," Jess answered, his jaw working back and forth as he took a bite out of his anger, and it was proving to be more than he could chew. "Just some lowlife who deserved worse than what he got."

"He's still dead," Mort said slowly, watching as the jaw went still.

"Yeah," Jess ground through his clenched teeth. "And so are the ones he killed. With Slim not being too far away from being added to the list."

"I understand how you feel, but your wrath has nowhere to go, Jess. Don't you think that energy would be better spent some other way?"

"Like what?" Jess held out both hands, only remaining spread open for a few short seconds before they became balled fists. "I've already exhausted everything else. The anger's the only thing that doesn't grow weaker. If I'm gonna be strong, I gotta hold onto something."

"Have you tried faith?"

"Yes." The hands lowered in a single motion, slapping against his thighs with a double pop. "But I don't know its results just yet."

"Then keep that burning," Mort said, pointing to Jess' heart. "It's the only type of fire where the fuel is already provided."

There was no way that Mort could have known the struggle to start the flame that Andy was absorbing, and his words struck a chord inside of Jess' chest that couldn't be ignored. He had tried everything under his own power to start the fire, ending with a fist-to-the-skies rant, but what Jess had really needed was provided by another hand other than his. He hadn't used faith then, but it was still at work. Jess took a deep breath, feeling the same emotion that had come upon him after the flames had leaped high and slowly nodded. Faith really was all he could hold onto. Jess looked back at the grave below him, and some of the anger dropped to the ground, seeping into the soil where it would never be uncovered. But the quiet diversion would soon get halted as Jess turned abruptly toward the stagecoach when he heard a foot crunch against the ground.

"Doc?" The distinct note of the remainder of the question that Jess couldn't ask hung in the air.

"He's still hanging on." The reply was unable to bring a sigh of relief out of anyone's lips as there had to be more, much more. And the picture of dread that Doctor Hanson made as he swallowed the lump in his throat made what was to come even worse. "He lost a lot of blood with that cut on his head, but blood loss is the better part of his condition. The puncture wound on his side, whatever hit him, must have left some of its pieces still inside. Infection has already set in. If that was the only cause of his fever, the concern would still be great, but there's something else causing the spike. By the sound of Slim's lungs, I believe he's on the verge of pneumonia."

"Can we get him home?" Mort asked, as the other voices that were around him remained stuck in silence.

"He needs better accommodations to stand a fighting chance, that's for sure, but the ranch is too far. Anyone live near here?"

"Not that I recall," Mort answered, his hand rising to rub his jaw. "Jess?"

"Ain't nobody up in these parts."

"It'll be a climb, but with all of our hands, we can get him in the wagon," Mort said, waiting for the doctor to give an approving nod before continuing. "We'll head Slim for the nearest town, but I think we should see if that trip can be shortened down some. Wiley, Jess and I will spread out and look for a cabin. Homesteaders, miners, trappers, even outlaws sometimes hole up in strange places."

He would have rather stayed along Slim's side, but he wasn't about to argue with the sheriff when Mort had an ample amount of truth backing up his words. In a wagon bed, all Jess could do would count Slim's breaths and watch the lines on Doctor Hanson's forehead work between a squiggle and a straight line, but on horseback, he could search for a place where they could all lodge. Jess was on Traveler now, the trail underneath his hooves white with frost, but there was a distinct line that could have indicated a different type of traveler had used it in recent weeks, perhaps leading him to someone's home.

The wagon was heading on a northern route, Wiley east, Mort south, which left Jess to aim for the west. With the minimal speed that was pushing the team forward, he should have been two or more miles apart from Slim, but even if the span would spread out to fifty, the pull to return wouldn't be any less severe. Climbing upward with Jess' hands on Slim's feet had been difficult, but it was the separation that had ripped the largest part of his heart out, the talons going to its deepest as Jess rode away from Slim's side. Through the steady upward motion of Slim's body, getting him from the stagecoach to the wagon, he had never stirred, only the rattling noise that was his breathing told the story that life still existed inside of him. As Jess rode away, giving a glance behind him every few seconds until his partner was no longer in his view, Jess hoped that Slim's unconsciousness would stretch out through the time he was gone. Even after his departure, Slim's weak call had remained stuck to his mind, and begging him to not leave pressed like a thorn to its core, yet still Jess rode on. But he wasn't leaving Slim alone, for with Jonesy and Andy being there with him, even if Slim wakened, there was still a measure of comfort beside him.

Taking a deep breath into his lungs that tingled all the way in with more than just the cold air, Jess pulled up on Traveler's reins. Smoke. The fragrance was too woody to be from a campfire, and although from his position he couldn't see a plume, Jess figured there was a cabin close by. Giving his lips a chirp to resume Traveler's pace, Jess switched his mount slightly off of the course he had been on, letting his nose be the guide instead of only using his eyes, but caution could never be displaced. Passing between two boulders through a narrow strip, the odor intensified, and as he rounded the next corner, the scent became visible.

The cabin was small, but it didn't have the appearance of being run down, as every wall seemed to be stout, likely only enduring a single season of snowfall. There was a lone window near the door, completely boarded shut from the outside, and although it might have blocked out the winds that still continued to whir down the slopes of the surrounding peaks, it must not have been able to silence a rider's approach. Jess saw the doorway shift, starting out as a mere crack that only an eye could possible fit through, but then in one thrust it was opened to its fullest, and a man filled its entire frame.

Mort had given a list of the types of people that would be living in such a harsh terrain, and the man that Jess was looking at could have been any of them, with an added dose of ominous thrown in with the description. Long haired, with a thick, full beard that came with a matching set of eyebrows made only a thin line of skin visible on his puffy cheeks. Between the two sets of bushes was a pair of eyes that glistened with the darkest shade of black, and with a steady glare, was sending daggers toward Jess' blue that were already snapping with their own vibrant sparks. The man was tall, but it was his width that made his size the most impressive, as the belt hugging Jess' waist might have only fit around a third of this man's middle, and that wasn't including the extra bulk that he wore around his upper half. He was literally wrapped in a bear, complete with teeth and tail. Even though the image in front of him was rough, Jess didn't view him as intimidating, but considering the man was carrying a long barrel under his arm, Jess' picture must have been posing its own threat.

"That's far enough." The command was backed by a heaviness that matched the man's girth, and the even point of the rifle to Jess' chest. "Keep that hand away from your iron. All right, now, who are you?"

"My name's Jess Harper," Jess answered, leaving an open space for the furry man to respond, but as the silence stretched on, it was apparent that he didn't care to share his handle. "I live near Laramie."

"What're you doing here?" The words came out mumbled, as there must have been a wad of tobacco the size of a fist inside of his mouth.

"Mister, I could really use some help," Jess began, keeping his right hand at a respectable level above his sidearm, but he knew with a flash it could be in his grasp. "I've got an injured, sick friend who's pretty bad off right now. He's gotta get outta the cold and tended to, and your cabin's the only one around these parts that's gonna be fitting."

"I don't see no sick or injured friend anywhere," the reply came complete with a brown stream to discolor the frost by his boot.

"He's just a coupla miles off the trail." Jess' hand moved slightly to form a point, but it was quickly frozen in place.

"Nah," he said, his gun motioning toward Jess' raised hand. "Don't twirl it around like that. If you get jumpy, I get jumpy."

"Look, Mister. I ain't here to play games. My friend needs help and I reckon I'd do just about anything to see that he gets it, and if that includes going for my gun, then I'll do it, but I'd rather we do this peaceably. Now I'm gonna get off my horse, and either you let me in, or I'll walk right over you."

"That doesn't sound very peaceably to me."

"I'm giving you a choice, ain't I?" Jess' eyes drew to slits as he began his dismount, slowly, and as his left leg swung over Traveler's back, he felt the reflex in his hand began to twitch, but both feet were allowed to the ground before it could fully react.

"I don't have to take it, do I?"

"No," Jess responded with a shake of his head, and the stabilizing of his stance went with it. "I don't know what your problem is, Mister, but if you got something to hide, it ain't none of my business. What is my business is helping my friend. And you better bet I'm gonna do just that."

"All right." The wad in his mouth was somehow moved from one cheek to the other. "If you mean what you say, then lose your gun to the ground."

"Sorry. I can't do that," Jess said, the timbre of grit rolling like a clap of thunder from his throat. "I gotta use my gun as a signal to let my other friends know a shelter's been found. Besides, trusting you ain't exactly sitting right on my insides."

"You never said anything about other friends." His nerves piqued, the black eyes suddenly darted back and forth, but when Jess dared to take a single step forward, they were pinned to him like an actual dart had smacked Jess on the nose. "Not another inch, you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear, but I'm still gonna come."

Jess knew that getting shot wasn't going to help Slim, but he needed that cabin, and the bear-clad man wasn't going to stop him even if the teeth he wore could actually tear into his flesh. Going through him or going over him, it didn't matter. Jess was just going to get there. But that was only the determination speaking that came from his side. The other man had different dialogue working through his willpower, and it was only a moment away from being put into action. The opposing hand moved and with a seasoned gunfighter's ability, the gun was pulled from Jess' hip and into a perfect aim. Both fingers found their triggers.

The signal for finding a shelter was two rapid shots. One had just gone into Jess' leg.