Blizzard Warning

Chapter One

The bedroom behind him, Slim's hat found his head amidst its turning to search the interior of his home, the absence of one particular member taking his immediate notice. "Where's Jess?"

"Soaking up the sun," Jonesy answered without turning his frame, as the chunk of wood in his hands, and the precise angle against the flames that he was ready to place it on, held his visual attention.

"Don't tell me he's flat on his back, hat tipped just right to hide his eyes while a snore drifts out of his lips."

"Not that kind of soaking," Jonesy said, the remnants of the firewood and any possible splinters getting wiped from his fingers on his vest. "But he's out in it all right. It's warmer in here, yet he still's gotta get as many rays on him as he can."

"Can't blame him too much. After all, it's his first winter with us. Being cooped up and all is something new to him, even more, considering this winter's been bearing its teeth for quite some time now." Slim bent toward the window, the lean body of his partner not difficult to find as he discovered the hammer of his initial guess hadn't been too far from hitting the nail square. Jess might not have been lying down, but with his arms hanging over the top corral rung, head lowered, the snore could still be mumbling in and out of his lips.

"And sinking in, too." Pressing his hands into his back, Jonesy's attempt to stretch out the kink from being lowered at the fireplace brought a wince to his face, and the scowl, like the ache, not quick to fade. "I'll probably still be moaning about the cold stuck in my bones when it's ninety out."

"Could be, but there'll still be a good-sized complaint from you for it being so hot," Slim said, giving the older man a wink before he walked through the kitchen.

The curtain at the door's window received a slight part to gaze through and seeing Jess in an unchanged position, he quietly opened the door, leaving its gap at a minimum, and then he softly walked up behind Jess. Slim's hand rose to tap his friend's shoulder when contact was a foot away, but with an abrupt spin of Jess' heels they were face to face. Like a cougar ready to spring, although this bite would come with the gun in his hand, his body was in the immediate position of a professional, yet the surprise that washed over both men's faces would have never existed in a gunfight, for those types of expressions could only be etched in stone.

"Dadgummit, Slim!" Jess whooshed a mouthful of air through a small opening of his lips. "Don't you know not to sneak up on a gunfighter with an iron on his hip?"

"Apparently only if that particular gunfighter's asleep," Slim answered as he lowered his arms to his sides, the edges of his mouth rising with a smile.

"I wasn't asleep," Jess said, the gun returning to fit snuggly inside of his holster, yet despite its secure hold, he gave it an extra tap with his fingers.

An eyebrow rose, making a trio of wavy lines form on Slim's forehead that didn't declare anger was about to be fired, but a round of mischief instead. "You weren't, huh?"

"Well, maybe a light doze, but I wasn't asleep."

"I see," Slim said, rubbing a hand across his chin, but the chuckle couldn't be suppressed. "I guess I never noticed the difference before."

"Dadgummit, Slim. It's the sun blazing against my back. Makes me feel like I've come alive. Ornery, prickly and jumping for action all at the same time."

"Another thing I never knew. Sleeping— I mean dozing, is another form of jumping for action."

"Aw, I reckon you know what I mean. It's spring, Slim. After the winter we've had, I gotta revel in it any way I can."

"It's not spring for another two weeks." Slim held up two fingers, and then with a quick shift of their positions, he placed the index into Jess' chest. "And that's only what the calendar says. You're in Wyoming, Jess, and winters here don't go by any particular date. It could still bury us up to our ears yet."

"Nah," Jess answered, waving an arm toward the blue sky. "It's spring, all right, Slim. I can smell it, I can even taste it."

"That's just the remnants of last night's Mulligan." Slim stuck a finger into his mouth and then slid it back out with a pop. "I still have some of it stuck between my teeth, too."

"Badmouthing dinner will only get a charred biscuit on your plate," Jonesy said, his arms carrying a basketful of laundry that he dropped underneath the pump, the soap following with a similar plop to the balled-up long john's that were nestled on the top of the pile. "And that's only because I'm generous and don't wanna make a man go hungry with a chill blowing in from the north."

"I don't feel no chill." Jess frowned, lifting his turned down mouth to the sky where the sun gave a prompt kiss to lift the corners upward.

"I do." Jonesy gave a firm nod. "Even if it's only in my head. Winter's not done with us yet and that's a guarantee the same as you're bound to get your britches into trouble."

"That's what I said," Slim said, giving Jonesy's arm a pat before taking the finger to point at Jess, "but he doesn't believe it."

"Better believe it, boy." Jonesy nodded, the stream of water flowing over the clothes with each pump, and then the hand that had been free by his side reached into the pail and lifted the sopping red trousers. "That's why I'm out here washing your unmentionables. Tomorrow I'll be huddled up by the fire. And if I don't miss my guess, so will you."

"How can you be so sure?" Jess asked, eyebrow raised, trying to discern if he was being teased or if the older man's tongue was spouting one-hundred-percent truth.

"Chalk it up to years and years of experience. Kinda like how you know the ins and outs of living on the drift. I certainly wouldn't question your authority if we were out in the wide open together and a bear was licking its chops for what's on our breakfast dishes."

"Maybe. But with the sun like it is. Dad-gum, I just dunno…"

"I do." Jonesy gave a firm nod, his hands beginning to work the soap into enough suds that they began to drip over the edges of the bucket.

"Well, I reckon you two do gotta little more insight into the cold than I do, but it ain't blowing outta the north now. The wind's been curling from the south for a coupla days now. Dad-gum, there ain't even a lump of snow left by the barn where we've been shoveling the last two months straight. And since the sun's acting like the cousin of what's boiling down on us at the fourth of July, I'm gonna go riding in it."

"You probably shouldn't Jess," Slim said, his mouth that had been wearing a smile since he awakened his rowdy friend only then starting to bunch lower into his chin.

"Why not?"

"Ain't I been telling you," Jonesy answered, his soap-covered hand pointing to the north. "It's gonna change."

"It can't switch no faster than my gun draw."

"What's that gonna prove?" Jonesy asked, the long john's in his hand getting a second dunking.

"I reckon it means I've outdrawn everybody I've come up against or I wouldn't be standing here talking to you about the weather, so I should be able to beat a storm home if one comes barreling over the hill, which I doubt it's gonna."

"He ain't gonna listen to me, Slim, so you better tap his stubborn head a couple of times before the wind comes and blows it completely off his shoulders."

"It does change fast, Jess, and a man out in the open during a blizzard doesn't have much chance. Almost lost Pa the year Andy was born in one. It made the lesson of erring on the side of caution when it comes to snow stick."

"Well, I reckon I can understand that, but I can't stop looking at them green hills that are just begging to get tromped on by something other than some dizzy snowflakes."

"You're not going to let up are you? Jess, I'd go with you to keep an eye out, but two men gone from home with the threat of a storm on the horizon would be even more dangerous."

"There ain't no storm on the horizon. Dad-gum, it's clear as far as the eye can see."

"Jess…"

"Come on, Slim. Just to Pine Ridge and back. What's that gonna hurt? 'Sides, you'll appreciate me getting some of my ornery hide scratched while being out there, especially if we are gonna get cooped up together for another snowstorm."

"All right, Jess." Slim's hands slapped against his legs, yet one made a quick return upward to jut a finger at Jess. "But you're taking your heavy coat."

"I don't need it." Jess raised his arm and pointed to his pit. "See, a ring of sweat."

"You're taking your heavy coat." The firmness rolled off of Slim's tongue, hard enough that when it met with the air it collided into a breeze, and the words won, driving into Jess' ears, making the dark hat bob with a nod. And if his tongue's punch hadn't been enough, Slim's feet were in a steady rhythm to the house to retrieve Jess' coat that hung on the peg by the door.

"Dad-gum. And I thought only my pa knew how to make the kinda tone that made me jump."

"He might not go by that title," Jonesy said with a chuckle, "but he's got experience. Big brothers and fathers kinda go hand in hand in his case what with him bringing up Andy. And now you."

"Me? I was brought up a long time ago."

"You're still finding your fit, and don't you deny that Slim ain't gotta big part of that."

"Dad-gum. Two men that make me jump. No wonder I gotta get out into the wide-open air for awhile."

"Here, Jess," Slim said, draping the coat over Jess' folded arm that poised against his hip. "If you feel the wind change directions, hightail it home, you hear me?"

"Sure, Slim," Jess replied, the sound of his voice needing to float through the air as Jess had already turned his body toward the barn.

"I hope he knows what he's doing," Slim said, his head shifting to a slight shake as Jess led his horse from the barn, his hop into the saddle done with precisely landing his backside so that the hooves were in motion before he was even settled inside the leather.

"Glad you're smart enough not to trot away with him. Give it another week of clear skies and you'd both be pounding the road to Laramie and then get stuck in the saloon with nothing but amber liquid and rose lips to keep you warm."

"Hey, that might not be a bad idea." Slim grinned, his teasing taking him all the way to drop a step toward the barn, but then when a wet hand gripped his arm, the smile widened to produce a laugh. "I'm not going anywhere, Jonesy."

"Good. We've gotta have more than one wise thinker in this house. Besides, if I ain't mistaken, you didn't get all those columns of numbers added up that the superintendent was asking for."

"I was wondering when you were going to remind me of that," Slim said, the light of laughter fading to a shadow as he turned toward the house, the shade growing even darker as he made one last turn before entering when he found the dot that was his partner being swallowed up by the land.

"Where did Jess go?" Andy's voice tugged at him from the table, his nose lowered in a school book that might not have been studied beyond a couple of lines at the top of the page.

"Pine Ridge," Slim answered, his hand finding his brother's shoulder to give it a pat as he walked by.

"I thought you didn't like us riding out when a blizzard's coming. Jonesy said when he went out with the laundry that it was gonna hit soon."

"I don't," Slim said from the kitchen, the hot coffee pouring into a cup. "But you know Jess. He has a mind of his own, and he uses it."

The cup of coffee ignored after the first sip, it sat next to the ledger on Slim's desk, sending up tendrils of steam that whirled in a different direction when Jonesy pushed through the door, the heavy load of laundry getting plopped to the floor a moment later. Slim glanced at the older man, checking his countenance, but as the expression was no more sullen than before, which was more due to the labor of his hands than anything that might have been stirring in the air, he turned his attention back to the page in front of him. He worked through the first length of numbers, added it up a second time only to get a different solution than before, but his head could barely get the annoyed shake complete when something stark grabbed his attention.

His eyes darting upward, the pencil suddenly dropped from his hand. "The sun just went out."

"So it did." Jonesy said, his face not far from the window pane.

"From the north?"

"Straight away. It's coming fast, too. I can see the line of snow between here and the pass."

"Slim." The small voice came from the table, and even though the chill from the outdoors couldn't reach his skin to raise the flesh into goose pimples, Andy still quivered. "Jess isn't back yet."

"He's likely not far, Andy," Slim said reassuringly, walking over to his brother to close the book that wasn't being read. "We might give him a good tease when it comes to snow, but Jess has spent winters in the northern territories before. He knows what the cold means. Try not to worry."

"I always say if it hits with a slam, we're in for it." Jonesy tilted his head, hearing the whine of the wind in the distance, turning to a scream the closer it came, its pounce on the house done with a shake of all four walls. "And there it hit."

"I better get some wood in and bed down the stock before it gets too bad." Slim reached for his jacket, the thick collar riding high against his neck as he prepared to open the door, yet the biting chill still took his breath away as he stepped into the snow's disarray.

Every item on the list that he mentioned needed tending before the inches piled up, but the one that would have been on the top had remained stuck on the back of his tongue. This Slim did the moment the porch was behind him. Looking to the road for a familiar figure, Slim's hand rose to tip his hat lower, shielding his eyes from the stinging flakes, but there was nothing beyond the swirling mass that didn't belong to the earth.

"Oh, Jess, you stubborn hotshot," Slim mumbled, yet even if he had projected it with fired-up authority, the wind would have whisked his words away before they could reach the barn.

Clamping his hand against the top of his jacket to keep the snow from falling down his neck, Slim made the steady trek to the barn. The animals inside gave him a welcome, more than one producing a repeat as his hand to the feed bin would come late, for Slim's body was fully braced as he shoved the barn door back into its stout closure. Every crack moaned with the wind, some lilting upward to match the shrill shriek of a woman, making the horses prance, but with a calming hand and a soothing tone, even amidst an even louder howl, the tense mounts were eased. If only there was a similar touch that could have quieted Slim's nerves.

His chores complete, Slim returned to the outdoors, the noise of the gusts nothing in comparison to how they pushed against his frame. Walking with a lean, Slim filled his arms with the wood, his head wanting to turn every few seconds to check the road, yet he knew there would be nothing to see. There were only two colors beyond the dark outlines that were the barn and house. White and gray, with the darkest reserved for the canopy that was above, while everything else was a mass of snow, so thick that the posts of the corral had gone invisible. Even if Jess were riding right toward him, he wouldn't know it until the horse's hooves were printing his flesh with his shoes.

Unable to hold another stick, Slim pushed through the snow that was already developing into a measurable amount on the ground, counting each step as he went, knowing that too many meant he'd missed his mark. Tapping his boot against the kitchen door that had been noticed only by the glow through the pane, he lowered his head over the entire bundle as it swept wide, the gust of wind doing more to push him into the interior than what his feet produced. Inside, Jonesy slammed the door behind him and a small pair of hands worked the wood out of his clasp as Slim attempted to straighten his frame.

"Wow." Slim's lips stuttered the single exclaim, his body producing a full quiver as he reached his height, and as Andy was taking the last log from his arms, his hands fumbled with the buttons to remove the jacket from his back. "It's bad out there."

"She's a real mean one," Jonesy said, stirring the bubbling pot on the stove, but his eyes were on the curtain, moving despite the door's closure. "Kicked it up a whole notch just now."

"It's gearing up to be worse than the blizzard of '68. And everyone said that would be an impossible one to beat."

"Slim," Andy whispered, yet despite the roar that was beyond the walls, the frightened tone sounded loud in his ears. "Didn't several people die in that storm?"

"They did, Andy," Slim replied, unable to mask the sound of fear in his own voice. "Sometimes that happens when a storm comes on sudden, like this one did."

"Well, it's no surprise to me," Jonesy said, realizing too late that his "I told you so" comment might have made the worry wrinkles deepen further as he had fully addressed his statement to the man that wasn't even in the room, so he made a sudden switch. "That wind can sure produce some strange sounds. If I was the skittish type, I'd be hiding my head under the pillow right about now. Almost like a low moan, or a call. Wait a minute, that's not the wind I hear. Someone's coming in."

"Thank God," Slim said quietly, his rush to the window made complete in two strides. The curtain had already been spread during the previous stares into the storm so it needed no further parting as Slim's knees hit the couch. He didn't look down at the head that was pushing close to his shoulder to peer through the whirling mass of white, wanting to see the figure that was so blurred it could have been a giraffe leading a buffalo into the barn, for everyone's eyes were just an anxious to see the man and horse that it really was. "Better get supper on, Jonesy. Jess'll be more than half-starved."

"I've already got two cups at his plate for the coffee he'll be hollering for."

"Good," Slim said, reaching for a log to add to the fire, for it might be the outward flames that Jess would be seeking first instead of what he would pour down to meet his innards. He had just pushed the wood to its centered position with the poker when the doorknob began to rattle, and before Slim could complete the turn, Andy was bounding to make the excited greeting.

"Jess!" Andy's shout pounded loud despite the louder screams of wind, but then along with his voice, his entire body began to fade as the eyes across from him, peering through a scarf that circled the face were dark. "You're… you're not Jess."

Coated with snow, the layers were slowly peeled back, and as the buttons were undone, the gloved fingers went for a handle at his waist and the gun's barrel found a dangerous aim.

.:.

He should have listened. But going backward to rehear the warning was useless. It was too late. He knew it, and unfortunately, his horse knew it too. The snow too deep to traverse, the wind too wild to overpower, the leg had snapped in a downward trot, and now his gun filled his hand to perform mercy's parting duty.

"Sorry, Old Friend," he swallowed, his eyes smarting, coming to a close as the blast shook him harder than the blizzard's loudest wail.