Author's Note ~ Aw gee, folks! Your support and kind words overwhelm me. You all are awesome. I never set out to write a mystery story, but it seems I did, at least for the first part of this story, but we all know that the trail home is not always smooth for our "boys" so watch for some more ruts in the road.

After writing the first chapters of Mister, I hit the proverbial "writer's block" and wondered how I was going to have Jess recover in one or possibly two chapters. Then I watched The Confederate Express ( season 3, episode 16). The scene where Slim leans over the badly beaten and drugged body of his best friend broke my heart. I'd seen the episode a few times but never really saw the achingly beautiful compassion so delicately acted by John Smith a/k/a Slim Sherman and I knew that I had to do justice to Mister in the best way possible. How would Slim deal with and help Jess recover from his emotional, mental and physical injuries? Keep reading to find out and I promise you won't have to wait for long.

JHSS~~

Peter paced back and forth in front of his fireplace. He had to make a choice. Do the right thing or walk away.

"I can't walk away," he said to his empty house. "His name is Jess Harper. He lives in Laramie. He has a family. They need him back, but Boss Man could kill him or me before I could get him help. I can't break that chain by myself. Who can I turn to? I can't hide this. He probably read the newspaper!"

Peter debated well into the night. Finally, he decided to wait two weeks longer. If Boss Man didn't show up then either he didn't see the newspaper or he wasn't in the area. Meanwhile, he'd pretend he never saw the newspaper.

Two long weeks later, Peter found himself at Mae's Diner in Laramie. He'd eaten there before and the food wasn't bad. He figured that the sheriff had to eat sometime. He'd written the note and had it hidden in his pocket. Boss Man could be anywhere so he kept an eye out just in case. The last two weeks had been brutal - pretending that he didn't know who his prisoner was. Time was running out for Mister. He was sick. He wasn't eating or drinking. Last night he developed a fever. Peter had left him covered up with extra water nearby his blanket. Peter thought that maybe Mister needed a doctor.

"Sometimes good things happen when you do the right thing," Peter remembered his Ma saying that to him. He had just put in his order when he saw two men enter the diner. One was a tall, lanky man with sandy blond hair and the other man was shorter and older with dark hair. He was also, Peter noted, wearing a star on his vest. He had to be the sheriff. The pair sat down at a table near him. Peter tried not to listen to their conversation but he heard snippets concerning Jess Harper. Before he left the diner, Peter put the note in his napkin and bending down said, in what he hoped was a friendly voice, "you've dropped your napkin, Sheriff."

Peter was nervous. He'd never talked to a sheriff before. 'What if he puts me in jail?' He wondered as he leaned against the wall behind the jail. He heard footsteps and several minutes later, he was face to face with Sheriff Cory and the other man, Jess Harper's partner.

After assuring both men that it was not a joke, the sheriff suggested to Peter that "Boss Man" might be a wanted man and after looking at the wanted posters on Sheriff Cory's desk, Peter discovered that indeed Boss Man was a wanted man who escaped jail after serving three of his ten year sentence. While Peter explained how he had taken the guard job and how many times Boss Man dropped in on his prisoner, Slim walked over to the doctor's office to make sure that he would be able to accompany them in the morning. Peter was explaining the directions to the sheriff when Slim walked into the room.

"Everything alright, Slim?" Most asked his old friend. Slim shook his head.

"I still don't understand why Edwards took Jess," he took the offered cup of coffee and sat down. "I was on the jury; I didn't pass judgement."

"Slim," Mort interrupted gently, "don't you remember? You were the foreman of that jury. Maybe Edwards held you more responsible for the verdict. You know what prison can do to a man."

All at once, Peter realized what he had done. He had kept Jess Harper from his life and his family because of a convicted man. He had imprisoned Jess Harper because of Boss Man's vindictive and cruel hatred of an innocent man, who was just doing his job.

"Sheriff, I realize I did the wrong thing in keeping Mister, I mean Mr. Harper prisoner. I should have tried to free him," Peter mumbled. "I guess if, after I show you where Mr. Harper is, you want to arrest me, then that would be the right thing to do."

Mort was shocked. It was unusual for someone to acknowledge their guilt and be willing to go to jail. "Well, that will be up to the judge, young man. But I am sure that your cooperation in this matter will go along way. Just don't leave Laramie."

It was decided that a posse consisting of Slim, Peter, Dr. Sam, James, the town's blacksmith, and Caleb, Mort's deputy would accompany Mort in the morning. Before they left Laramie, Mort reminded them that they were to act like a posse. The last thing he wanted was to put Slim and Peter's lives at risk. No one knew where Edwards was. He was dangerous and Mort now suspected that the msn who abducted Jess would do anything to keep him a prisoner.

When they reached the shack, the men dismounted and set about watering their horses and exploring Peter's house. Dr. Sam entered the shack followed by James. Slim, Peter noticed paced back and forth.

A few minutes later, Dr. Sam called Slim. "It's bad," he cautioned his friend. "he's got a high fever. He's delirious. He's skin and bones. He's almost unrecognizable with long hair and a beard. But it's definitely him. How do you want to handle this?"

"My way," was Slim's short answer. Slim walked into the shack and knelt by Jess' side. He couldn't believe how cold and hard the floor was.

Jess was lying on his back on a threadbare blanket and moving sluggishly, his head swinging from left to right caught in a fever dream. His hair was now down his neck and his beard met his dirty collar. Slim brushed one hand over Jess' fevered forehead and swept the unruly locks of sweat matted hair from his Pard's face. Every once in awhile he heard the familiar drawl moan out a name.

Slim leaned over Jess and blanketed them in a familiar, comforting space. "Jess, can you hear me? It's Slim."