Chapter Five

"Slim?" It started out as a trembling question, and then it shifted to a wild exclaim. "Slim!"

He raced around the fireplace, the tone of his brother a loud indicator that it wasn't an outlaw's threat that made him shout, but something of far greater importance. Slim reached for the knob as the door was struck, the vibration sending more than the edge of the roof in a downward thump, but there was no mistaking what was underneath the snowy pile when the door was at its widest.

"Jess!" Slim's shout seemed to be instantly swallowed by a gust of wind, but the interior still held a loud enough note, for two more sets of feet were rushing behind him as Slim's hands shoveled the snow from his partner's back. "Quick Jonesy, get his feet! Close the door, Andy."

With a quick grasp of his top and bottom, Jess' body was hauled inside, but the last instruction wasn't completed, for Andy's head leaned through the dark opening, his eyes narrowing to the large object that stood just beyond the lamp's gold splash against the rumpled white. "Slim, there's something else out here."

"What, Andy?" He barely slung the question over his shoulder, for nothing that was pushing against his mind had more importance than Jess.

"Well, Traveler's up to the porch, but there's something on his back."

"Lay him down, Jonesy, I'll take a look," Slim said, the parting of his partner causing a pain to develop in his chest, yet still he hurried through the door, the skidding halt coming from both the slick conditions underfoot and the surprise that his brother was right.

Reaching his arms out, Slim felt the body and as he traced the top with his hands, he felt the rope that kept it in the saddle. Tugging on the frozen knot that needed the gritting of his teeth to unwind, his muscles strained as the weight immediately dropped into his clasp and he staggered into the snow. The name might not have come to his lips under normal circumstances, but in desperation, Slim called for an outlaw's pair of hands. "Dowling, help me!"

Surprisingly the man did as instructed, for even an outlaw could bend toward the side of good when an urgent need stood directly in front of him. This need would prove to go a lengthy leap further when a groan escaped the wounded man's lips, and one set of listening ears easily recognized the cry. "It's my brother!"

"Get him inside," Slim shouted through the wind, the few steps to the bright doorway seemingly long, but with Dowling holding up his brother's shoulders, Slim felt the pressure release from his back and they took the necessary steps to put the storm behind them, and then Andy slammed the door to its awful howl.

"Abe?" Zack's hand pushed the covering from his back, and then as he rolled his brother's body over, the bright red that covered his belly seemed to reach up and punch him in the gut. "He's been shot!"

"Lay him close to the fireplace," Slim said, giving a nod to Jess as he walked by his partner. "Then we'll put Jess along the kitchen stove. Hurry!"

Even though the wild whirring in his ears was still present, someone was shouting, of that Jess could be certain. Having a sense that he had fallen, Jess wondered if he was lying on the snow's surface, but when he kicked his leg, there was nothing beneath him. Was he really all that numb? No. Something hard just hit his back, so there was feeling somewhere. He tried to speak, but he couldn't even tell if his lips moved, but there was a parting when the bandana was stripped from his face and something else replaced it. That blessed warmth! It felt like the burn of summer's hottest sunshine. But where was it coming from? There could be no heat in a blizzard's death grip. Fluttering his lashes, Jess saw the light all around him, and as the warmth spread to his forehead he saw the long lines cross over his slits of blue. Slim's hand. He made it home.

"Sllll…"

"I'm here, Jess," Slim said, his body trembling, but nothing could compare with the way Jess' body was being wracked. "Take it easy. Everything's going to be all right."

"Slim?"

It was Jonesy's call, the tone quiet, almost grim, and Slim wanted to shove the dread that came with it out into the storm, but instead his mouth released a short sigh. "Yeah?"

"That fellow's pretty bad off out there."

"Can you help him?" Slim asked, turning his head far enough to see the lines in Jonesy's cheeks at their tightest. Just by the older man's look alone, Slim knew it wasn't good. And even if they needed more, Jonesy would be the closest they would get to a doctor this night.

"I can try."

"All right." Slim nodded, watching as Jonesy reached for the kitchen tool that was simply referenced as "the knife", for it was the only sharp utensil that they ever used to do the specific carving of a man's flesh. "You tend to Dowling's brother. I'll help Jess."

Slim watched Jonesy's back until it disappeared around the corner and then his eyes returned to Jess. He was awake, although he might not have been far beyond the separating line between darkness and light, with his awareness even closer to what would have been underneath. But at least Slim had his partner at a level he could reach. Jonesy's patient was stuck in a dark place where no hand could retrieve as each man began their battle. One would be fighting for life, the other was fighting for limb, and especially in the one that Slim held, there was a great determination to succeed.

Putting both hands against the heel, Slim gave a hard yank, for the boots were proving to be hard to come off. With Slim's backside smacking the floor with the freeing jerk, snow cascaded all around them, for Jess' feet were covered with a layer almost as thick as the black leather that he had worn. The removal of his socks took the remaining bits of snow away from Jess' skin, but the stark shade with lack of prominent color still remained.

"Slim, is he…?" Andy's question suspended in the air as he looked at Jess' slightly bent body on the floor. Was he what? Going to die? Going to lose his toes, feet, or worse?

"Andy, take Jonesy's biggest bowl and go out and scoop it full of snow and bring it to me," Slim instructed, avoiding the direct question from his brother, no matter what he would have fit on the tail end of his query.

"You want snow?" The question held an incredulous tone, and a shade of frozen blue on the floor mirrored the sound.

"Lots of it. Hurry."

"Sllllimmmm." The slur was longer than if his breath was tainted with the worst aftertaste of whiskey. "Whaaa's hap'n?"

"Nothing but getting you warmed up. Ever heard of fighting fire with fire? Out here we fight frostbite with frost. Well, snow, I should say. Just as a warning, though, Jess. When you start to feel again, it's not going to be pleasurable."

Jess nodded, the understanding like he was giving Slim permission to begin and Slim's head bobbed in return. And to do so, Jess had to get stripped. If the difficulty in getting Jess' boots off were any indication, the rest of his attire would be just as cumbersome, for every article was plastered to Jess' skin. Slim tugged on Jess' gloves, the hands falling limply to the floor at their removal and then Slim worked the arms of Jess' coat. Why Slim could see it so clearly hanging from the peg when Jess was about to take off that morning he couldn't understand. Here was his partner, lying below him quaking like a leaf on a spindly limb during a blizzard, and yet it was that morning's view of the coat that was in front of his eyes. Slim gave a slight shake of his head, the present picture returning as the jacket was released from his frame and then tossed aside. He had balked at Slim's insistence, but at least Jess had shown enough sense to put it on when it was urgently needed. The shirt came next, the buttons coated with crystals that thawed at Slim's touch, but it was the jeans that would give him the hardest pull.

"They're attached so closely to your skin I might need to cut them off of you," Slim said, grateful that pain wasn't registering in Jess' limbs yet, for he had to jerk the stiff fabric from each leg one at a time. "Why do you have to wear such tightly fit jeans anyway?"

The response was a single lift of Jess' shoulder, and Slim's mouth shifted into a small smile. He could do little more than mumble, but he was still Jess Harper in full, all right. A little ornery and stubborn, all in the same breath. Two heads turned toward the door at Andy's return, and then the pan of snow was placed at Jess' feet. He knew what Slim had to do, but looking at the pile of snow Jess felt that it would have been more accurate if he were looking at a bowl full of rattlesnakes for that was how much he loathed it. Jess dropped his lashes, wanting to cringe at the sight that he could still see behind his eyelids, but his body was already in violent motion, the quivering uncontrollable no matter how firmly he placed his palms against his arms when he finally could raise them.

"What else can I do, Slim?" Andy asked, his feet not far from where his brother kneeled, but his eyes were fully absorbed in Jess' freezing torture. It made a hard knot form in Andy's belly to see his condition, yet he would rather be planted in the kitchen to offer help there, than be watching Jonesy dig at a bullet in the other man's flesh. Just a glimpse had done more than tie his stomach tight, it had threatened to completely overturn it.

"Get a pot of water heating, Andy, and then when you're done with that, go into the bedroom and bring me several blankets. Oh, and Andy, bring Jonesy's bottle of you-know-what with you."

Slim's reply came without looking at his brother, for like the gaze that had been penetrating Jess' body from Andy's eyes, Slim's were concentrating just as hard. He had seen a man in such a condition before, and a doctor had to take some of his toes off. If Slim's memory wasn't playing tricks on him with the added fear that this was his partner and not a total stranger, Jess was noticeably worse than what had existed in his mind's past. From his neck down to his feet, Jess' skin was whiter than a redhead's that never stepped foot in the sun. And the touch was so close to ice, it felt like it would sting Slim's skin, yet he didn't shy away from the chill, but pressed into it with both hands.

Jess responded to the grip with slight recoil, but he allowed the hands to work the tissue, and as Slim reached for a handful of snow, he gasped, expecting to jump through the roof, but he barely felt the wet chill when it was applied. Looking at Slim's serious face as he worked, worry began to creep into his core. Jess doubted his partner would be perky enough to joke under such circumstances, but there was something about the knitted eyebrows and the way his scar seemed to be accentuated that made each heartbeat strike with a harder thump.

He wanted to talk, prod hard enough into Slim's side to help him understand what he was up against, but every part of his body twitched with the cold, making it impossible to do either. Even under Slim's hands were rolling shivers. His nearly naked image screamed the loudest description that he was cold, and yet Jess couldn't even feel its caliber. The worry rising higher, Jess attempted to attach his teeth to his bottom lip, but the movement of his mouth couldn't be stilled long enough to make contact. That was it. He was cold. Too cold. And his brain was too numb to know exactly what it could be doing to him.

"Here's the blankets, Slim," Andy said, passing the bundle to his brother, but the bottle was placed on the countertop.

"Thanks," Slim answered, dropping the blankets over Jess' body, making the only parts exposed his head and the lower legs and feet that he were working on. "Now put some of the water in a couple of small bowls and drape his hands in it."

"It's not hot yet," Andy said, looking at the pot that had yet to send up a wisp of steam.

"That's how we want it," Slim answered, trying not to show his concern as he was unable to tell if the feeling under his hands had warmed. "Does it hurt yet, Jess?"

"Nn-nah, 's'pos-t-ta?" Jess asked, his eyes portraying his trust as well as his fear.

"It will," Slim said, his mouth staying in the straight line instead of bending into a frown. At least he prayed it would, for he didn't want to convey the actual amount of concern that was flooding inside of his veins. "Get me a cloth, Andy."

The folded fabric in his hand, Slim dipped it into the bowl that was turning to slush, the cold water then gliding over Jess' feet and onto his legs. With a sensation that he had another to tend to that wasn't taking a line toward Jonesy in the other room, Slim lifted his eyes to the window, the black square not able to show the ferocity that was on the other side. Understanding where the pull was coming from, Slim abruptly stood, his hand reaching for his brother and then he lowered Andy to the ground beside Jess.

"Andy, keep rubbing Jess' legs, up and down with the cloth like I was doing. I'll go out and get Traveler taken care of."

Andy looked up at his brother quickly, surprised that they had forgotten Jess' horse, but the biggest surprise shone in Andy's eyes, for he was being put in charge of recovery, and that scared him more than what he had already felt wallop him this night. He did as instructed, the cloth dipping into the bowl, but then his hand hesitated above Jess' foot, the wince gripping Andy's face from top to bottom as he placed it onto his skin. "Tell me if I hurt you, Jess."

"Yoo… c-c'd'nt, if-f-f yoo t-tr'd." Jess felt stupid, because to his ears, that was how he sounded. Of what little existed inside of his head, there was no putting those thoughts, even short, into words that could come out any other way. Yet, he could see by the added shadows in Andy's eyes that his broken answer only troubled him further. "K-keep taw-k-kin' t'me, An-d-dy."

"All right," Andy answered, his eyes moving from one position to the room to the other to try to latch onto a subject that wasn't surrounded by fear, but all he could grab hold of was what was literally the reason why he was bathing Jess' legs. "I bet you hate our winters, now, huh, Jess."

"K-k-inda."

"Just think, Jess, all that snow out there will eventually turn into water. The same water that'll flow into every creek, stream and river, like the one that fills the lake we swim in come summertime. You'll be glad for all this snow then, I bet. Ninety, a hundred out, maybe even hotter. Why, I suppose you'll be the first to jump in, unless you're feeling ornery and push Slim or me in first. But I know one thing's for certain. You'll be the last man out, wrinkled up like a prune."

"Yoo sh-ore… know h-h-ow t-to ch-eer a…a fell-ow up."

Andy smiled, his cheeks blossoming into a deeper grin when the gesture was returned on Jess' face. "Thought you'd like that."

"I… d-did," Jess answered, his head turning to the door when the snow blew in with Slim's return.

"All right, Andy," Slim said, retaking his position beside Jess. "I'll finish from here. Thanks."

"Iss… T-tr-aav… lll…"

"He'll be fine," Slim answered, understanding Jess' incoherent question, but in looking in his partner's eyes, he could see that there was another one forming in his head to be pushed through his rattling teeth, and he wasn't sure how well he could respond to that one.

"Whh…where-zzzz D-d-owling?"

"He's by the fire," Slim answered, his head his only gesture toward the living room, wanting to keep his response just as simple. "Jonesy's working on him."

"G-good. I… I did…n't wan-n-na q-whit."

"You didn't, Jess. You made it." But what he didn't add was that Jess might have made it in time for one, but perhaps not the other. The tension from the other room had grown thicker with the last gasp out of a worried mouth and he hoped that his next offering would prevent that tension from taking up residence directly alongside of them. "You think you could take some whiskey?"

Jess nodded his reply and Slim reached for the bottle and removed the cork, the opening coming to Jess' lips, but only a couple of drops could pass through. "Sllim… I…"

"Easy, Jess. Don't try to talk. Just drink." As there was no way Jess could hold on to the bottle with his shaking hand, Slim continued to tip it into his mouth, the amber liquid feeling like fire, but with each sip swallowed, the shade of blue was shifting to pink. "There now, that's better. Warmer water, Andy."

The change of temperature brought a sigh through Jess' lips, a sign that it was felt and satisfaction start to replace the height of concern in Slim's being, but the approaching footsteps had a different sign to give, and Slim outwardly cringed at its full arrival.

"How about it, Jonesy?" Slim asked, but with one look into Jonesy's eyes, he had his answer.

"Nothing I can do."

Jess' strength hadn't taken too many steps away from his body, for he pulled enough back in to twist his frame to find Jonesy's lowered head. "H…he ain… ain…'t gon-na-na m-m-ake it?"

"I'm sorry, Jess. The bullet came out all right, but, well, to be blunt, it hit an important working piece in his belly. Not even a doctor could've fixed him if he was seen sooner. It's just a matter of time now. His brother's saying his goodbyes."

"D-dad… g-gum."

"Who shot him, Jess?" Slim asked, certain enough that he knew the correct answer that he could have rephrased his question from the start.

"I d-did."

"But Slim," Andy said suddenly, the worry shining across his face as he raised a finger toward the other room. "He said…"

"Andy, go get a blanket from the bedroom," Slim said abruptly, his tone hard and serious, just like the eyes that rose to meet the dark brown.

"But I already got…"

"Get another one."

"All right, Slim." The confused voice faded as his foot bent toward the bedroom slowly, but when the first step was taken the other was quick to follow, the pace quickening until Andy was at a full run to the bedroom.

Slim waited until his brother's pounding steps went quiet, and then with a lowered voice he asked. "How'd it happen, Jess?"

"Want… wanted Trav. He pulled his g-gun. I could…n't leave'm th-there, t'die."

The explanation sounded simple and wasn't at all surprising, and Slim found his head nodding with an understanding that went further than the reason Abe Dowling had been shot. It might have come out in stuttered form, but Jess' response to his question was his partner's full character explained in a nutshell. Protecting his own with a type of fierceness that had brought his gun out of his belt, and then in the very next breath he was being merciful, going so far to extend compassion's hand to one that meant him harm, finally risking his life for them both. But there was also another man, likely unable to find the same type of caring nature beyond a brotherly concern, that once that tender connection was severed, could turn into the vilest character anyone had ever seen. Dowling would be a vengeful, hate-filled man with a gun in his hand when his brother died.

"Sll-im. Whuh…what izz it?" Jess' blue widened as he sought the fading shade above him.

"It'll keep." But for how much longer until it exploded in front of them?