A/N: Sorry for my tardiness, I was gone again for awhile and didn't have time to write. Please enjoy!

The crisp autumn leave strung their scarlet and golden colors all around my feet as I sat on the porch admiring the fall scenery. Wyoming was so stunning this time of the year, even if it was a bit too chilly for my taste. I could see the high hills in the distance topped with morning fog and wild horses running across the pastures. Their mane fluttered in the gentle wind as the rising sun cut through the ponderosas on the horizon and lit up their fiery locks.

I sighed as the warmth of the sun was stifled by dark clouds once again forcing themselves in its path. Well, the warm rays felt good on my cold legs for a moment. I figured that maybe that was the only sunlight I was going to see that day. Or maybe for the rest of my life. Regardless the day, I always felt like gloomy clouds were following me wherever I went. I was never going to get used to this.

This awful feeling…no, numbness…. in my legs. I hadn't been able to move them since I woke up in Doc Sweeny's office that fateful night. The night I opened my eyes to see Slim above me, his face bloody and filthy, but underneath that, a worried expression. He laughed and almost cried when he realized I was going to be okay. Several hours went by as I was examined and had my injuries set by the doctor. I knew for a fact my arm was busted, but he got that all set to rights in a jiffy and I was impressed by the smoothness of his actions and his eerily calm demeanor. Slim watched anxiously the entire time and asked many questions, always answered vaguely or with a noncommittal grunt by Sweeny.

Slim was quite a sight to behold, standing by me, arms crossed. His clothes were torn and filthy, his hair was bloody and matted with mud, while his face was scratched and caked with dirt. I knew he hadn't changed since the day before last, staying up all night and all morning by my side, awaiting my awakening. It was now very late at night and there were visible dark circles under my big brother's eyes. He wouldn't rest until he knew everything was going to be okay.

"Slim, can I talk to you over here for a minute?" Sweeny murmured, gesturing his finger towards the corner of the office.

I watched Slim's face fall and a lump rose in my throat because I knew something was terribly wrong. Was it my legs? I knew for a fact I couldn't feel them, but figured that maybe they were busted or somethin' and maybe that's why I couldn't feel that they were there. I kept a careful ear pricked to listen in on their conversation.

"Slim, I don't know how to tell ya this, but-" Sweeny started quietly.

"What? What's wrong with him?"

"Well, that's what I don't know," Sweeny confessed.

"Well whaddaya mean ya don't know? You're a doctor aren't ya?" Slim argued.

Sweeny shook his head and waved his hands for silence.

"Listen, Andy has no feeling in his legs!" Sweeny finally admitted.

Slim stood up straight and inhaled deeply, getting ready to rebuke the doctor.

"Whaddaya mean?" he demanded.

Sweeny put his stethoscope down on his desk, "He's paralyzed. He can't walk. It appears there was some sort of fracture of the spinal cord and severe damage to the nerves surrounding the base of his spine, and as a-"

"Can you cure it?" Slim questioned, a flutter of hope in his voice.

Sweeny blinked slowly and exhaled. "Slim, spinal cord injuries are very intricate and problematic, most people don't ever recover and if they do, they're only able to get back less than basic ambulatory functional ability."

Slim appeared extremely frustrated, his forehead was now creased with anxiety and his shoulders were starting to slump.

"Is there anything you can do? Anything at all?" he pleaded.

Doc Sweeny sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose while closing his eyes in thought. He then looked up at Slim with a pitying expression.

"The short answer is no," he resigned, "And I'm afraid to try any kind of physical therapy until I know the complete extent of his injuries, as any untoward pressure to the spine could cause further damage."

"So the damage could be permanent?" Slim asked, his voice sounding more depressed than angered.

Sweeny nodded, "Could be. Like I said, spinal cord injuries are some of the most troubling handicaps. I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you more."

Slim closed his eyes, shaking his head and waving the doctor off.

"No, you're doing everything you can…At this point…I'm just happy he's alive. I'm sure we'll be able to iron this out. We're Shermans. Shermans don't stay down for long."

Sweeny forced a smile and patted Slim on the shoulder.

"Thatta boy," he encouraged, "You've got a lot to be thankful for."

"Yeah…" Slim trailed off, staring into the distance and looking as though he was pondering something.

"I'd like to keep him here for the night, he needs rest, and a jarring ride back to the ranch could cause shock and more injuries," Sweeny informed him.

"Alright, when do you think he'll be ready to come back to the ranch?" Slim questioned.

Sweeny shrugged and pursed his lips, "I'd say maybe a couple days. He needs rest and laudanum," he paused, "..and lots of sympathy."

Slim nodded in agreement and glanced back at me. Suddenly, I wondered: where in the world was Jess? He would've been right at my side right now if he knew I was injured! He was my friend, and if I needed anything right now, it was a friend.

"Slim!" I called eagerly, trying to sit up.

Sweeny rushed to me along with Slim. The doc tried to keep me down on the table in a laid out kind of position, but I wanted to be seated upright.

"What is it Andy?" Slim asked, obviously worried for me.

"Where's Jess? I want to see him! He probably feels downright awful for letting me go like that, I can still remember how hard he was trying to get me to hold on. I was so stupid and afraid! I want him to know that everything is okay now," I explained to Slim. I noticed him swallowing hard and his tired blue eyes staring at me with confusion. Sweeny cast a nervous glance at my brother and I knew something was up.

"What?" I pressed, wanting them to break the silence.

Slim put a hand on my shoulder and looked at me square in the face.

"Andy," he started, "I don't know how to say this but…Jess…I made a mistake and I got real mad at him." Slim owned up.

What? What did he mean by that?

"What did'ya do ta him?" I practically shouted.

Slim blinked several times and sat down in the doc's chair getting to my level and holding my hand.

"I thought he killed you….I was furious," he said, every word being dragged out of him, "We fought, and he left. He just had enough."

I was flabbergasted; what in tarnation? They fought about me? Why did Slim think Jess had killed me? Jess would never purposely harm me, and would always go out of his way to make sure no harm befell me. We were like brothers! And there was no way Jess would ever leave, especially if he knew I was hurt! What actually happened? Should I ask? If I did, would Slim tell me the whole truth this time?

"That's not true!" I argued, "Jess didn't leave! Something happened, and you gotta tell me what Slim!"

Slim sighed and put a hand over his face, thinking. He finally looked at me again and stood up.

"When you're all rested, I'll tell you everything," he assured me.

I didn't like that idea, because I figured he would back out or forget, but I didn't want to be too disagreeable, so I just dipped my head.

"Promise?"

Slim hesitated for a little bit. "Promise," he finally said. He then ruffled my hair and gave me a slight hug before he grabbed his hat and walked towards the door. Before leaving, he turned around and looked at me and the doc.

"You behave yourself and do what the doc says," he ordered me, then he faced the doc.

"And please let me know if anything comes up, I'll be staying at Mort's office until I can take Andy home."

The doc smiled. "Sure thing, Slim."

"Thanks."

He never did tell me what happened. I didn't find out the whole story until Lee and his wife, Priscilla, dropped by the ranch to check in on me and have dinner with us.

Afterwards, Lee was sitting alone with me out on the porch, regaling me his stories from the war and stories from the countless cattle drives he'd been a part of. With Slim absent from the discussion, I was able to muster the courage I needed to ask Lee what happened on the last drive he'd been on. I remembered everything up until I fell and got knocked out, but after that, what happened between Slim and Jess, was beyond me. Lee paused and blew smoke into the summer night.

"Slim hasn't told ya huh?" he asked, his ice-blue eyes not once glancing at me. His eyes were perhaps fixed on the future; that is, if the future laid in the starry skies of June.

"Please, I need to know," I asked quietly.

Lee sighed and held his cigar a few inches from his mouth before continuing.

"When you fell, Slim turned into some kind of enraged animal, he was hungry like a wolf for revenge. I had never seen him like that before, nor do I want to see him like that again."

"Slim's not like that," I argued, "He's very mild-mannered. He only gets upset when people challenge him, and even then he's just a little perturbed. I've never seen him all out angry."

Lee snorted, taking a long drag on his cigar.

"I know kid," he muttered from the side of his mouth, "But things change, and they change fast. Jess sure didn't see it coming. He only had good intentions, he only wanted to save you. He couldn't, or at least he thought he couldn't ."

That hit me hard; Jess must've thought I was truly dead or somethin! I sure hope he knew I was okay…well partially okay. My legs were now weak and numb, and my will was cracked, but I was still breathin'. My legs weren't completely numb for the first few months, I could still feel my toes and move them, but with each passing season, I got stiffer and more defeated. I felt my condition was only worsening, and the doc had me on some kind of medicine to deplete the pain in my lower back. He said the fracture would continue to hurt even if my legs didn't feel nothin'.

Lee continued with his version of the story, "Slim thought Jess's failure to hold onto you, killed you. He was wild with pain and anger and needed to let go of his vengeance on the source of his pain. In his mind, that was Jess. Poor cowpoke got the worst of it, Slim even went so far as to shoot him to scare him off."

I gasped aloud; Slim? Shooting Jess? That just wasn't like him! This had to be a mistake!

"He forced Jess out. Guess Jess had finally had enough of being pushed around. I thought he'd still stick around, but he just broke, right then and there. Grabbed his horse and ran, didn't look back once. Far as he knew, you were dead," Lee explained, "If I know him, he'd never have been able to work for your brother again under those circumstances."

I was almost in tears; why? But tragically, it all made sense. How could Jess show his face on this ranch ever again if he thought he killed me. Even if it wasn't outright, it was still his mistake to bear. He'd stare at the ground for the rest of his days there, never once looking Slim in the eyes. Because they'd both know, and share the painful memory that would've been my death. I honestly don't blame Slim for bein' as mad as he was, but he never should have taken his anger out on Jess. He didn't deserve that. Jess definitely deserved better than what he got. He helped us all through so much, and even as he did so, I knew he felt beholdin' to us. I wonder where he went. I wonder what he's thinking of right now. I wonder if he's still alive. I wonder if he ever thinks of me. Or of Slim. Or Jonesy. Does he miss us? This? Everything? Questions I may never know the answer to, but I hope to God I find him again so I can ask him.

"Slim made him leave," I murmured, suddenly realizing I had made my observation aloud.

Lee rocked back an' forth in his chair, still blowing smoke into the air.

"Your brother knows he was wrong. He just refuses to dwell on it. All he wants to do is move on. Sometimes moving on is the scariest thing you could possibly do. But often times it's the only thing you can do."

Oddly enough, what Lee was saying made sense to me.

"You figure maybe that's why he takes to drinkin' so much? To help move on?"

Lee shrugged. "Maybe. He knows that he can't take a bullet back after he fires, but he doesn't want to think about that."

Lee then turns to me, and looks at me for the first time during our entire conversation. His eyes reflect the starry skies and subconsciously reminds me of wisdom and understanding, both traits I'm sure this man possesses.

"Just remember kid," Lee told me, "Don't be scared. As big and massive as the future is, all the pain has got to be behind us. You've survived enough."

Those words are somewhat comforting, but I too was having a hard time forcing myself away from the past. I felt a little spark of hope light inside me, thinking that I would make it through this chapter of my story and everything would be alright.

"What about Jess? Is he part of the past now?"

Lee put his hands into his coat pockets and leaned back in his chair, resting his boots on the hitching rail. Before he can reply, Jonesy comes outside and leans against the door frame, glancing down at me with a sigh. I wondered how much of the conversation he had heard.

"I don't know where Jess plays into our lives right now," he adds, "But I can tell you right now that you need to quit picking at old wounds. You'll just make more scars and harm in the end."

I think back on those words now, as I gaze into the clouds, wondering if Jess will ever come back.

LLLLL-LLLLL-LLLL

I tie Cyclone up to the corral fence and crawl through the bars to get to the other side. I smile proudly at my "guinea pig" and think of all the hard work I put into it. Andy was going to love it. For the past five grueling weeks, I had been working with that spirited palomino in an effort to retrain him to respond to different cues. It was irritating as all get out, let me tell ya. I ain't very fond of horses to begin with, seein as I was never meant to ride 'em in the first place, but I still knew a thing or two about 'em. Cyclone had his own ideas of how things should be, but enough bribery with some sugar got him thinking and acting on my level.

While Slim was out tending to the cattle, I'd hurry and finish my chores and head back to the corral to work with Cyclone. The first order of business was getting him ready for Andy to mount. I knew it wasn't going to be easy, because how does somebody who's paralyzed from the waist down get in a saddle? But I'd been to the circus a time or two an' I had seen those fancy white horses get down on their knees and fold their rear legs under them, among other tricks. Frankly, it was the perfect height for a kid to mount from.

The first few times, Cyclone figured on bein' stubborn.

I paced around him, trying to figure out how to get him down on his knees. I couldn't get him to do a darn thing for me, so I went into town and got Mort Corey's nephew, Amos Opitz, to come out and help me with the beast.

Amos was an experienced horseman, had worked with the animals all his life, breaking them, specially training them, even sold 'em for huge amounts of money at auction for them uppity eastern people who wanted a properly trained horse to do their bidding for them. Heck, Amos claimed he could even get those horses to fetch things for him. Each time he came over, he'd bring his horse, Rudy, into the corral with Cyclone. Rudy was a no-nonsense appaloosa that had been gifted to Amos by chief Running Elk after Amos had saved their entire herd from a prairie fire. Boy, that Amos was some kid, everybody loved him, 'specially his horses. Anyhow, Amos was sayin' that those appaloosas are near impossible to train to do anything, but he had gotten his horse so dulled down that it didn't even flinch when Cyclone took a chomp out of his haunches. Rudy simply turned his head in Cy's direction and pinned his ears back, giving a warning huff.

"Y'see Jonesy," Amos started, pushing his hat up onto his mop of wavy brown hair, "Horses like Cyclone are snoods, they think they're better than every other horse. Some people might think that's a flaw, but in reality, it's one of the greatest advantages a horse trainer could ask for."

I crossed my arms, not understanding one bit where Amos was going with this.

"We can use Cy's arrogance against him. If he really wants to be on the top of the totem pole, he's gunna hafta step up around Rudy here, cuz Rudy knows what's what."

I watched as Amos pulled a carrot from his back pocket and held it up in front of his face. Amos made a rapid clicking noise with his mouth and then whistled to Rudy, who came trotting up to the fence.

"Show me your pretty legs," Amos said sweetly, "Legs, Rudy, legs."

I was stunned when Rudy lifted his front legs up, one at a time, and placed them on the top bar of the fence.

Amos grinned ear to ear and gave Rudy the carrot.

"Atta boy, Rudy!" he praised the horse as it chewed its reward to a mush. Amos quickly petted the animal's muscular legs, and then tapped each leg twice, and just like magic, Rudy put his legs back down into the corral and walked off.

"That's darned impressive," I said, trying not to let my utter shock and amazement convey in my tone, "But how are we supposed to get Cyclone to do that?"

Amos snorted with amusement.

"Ol' Cy'll do it on his own. When he figures out that the only horses who get treats around here are the ones who obey orders, he'll change his tune real quick, just y'see."

As much as I hate to admit it, Amos was right. That kid was pretty sharp.

Every command Rudy got a treat for, Cyclone would do his best to imitate the trick requested, in hopes that he too would get a reward. That stupid horse was on his knees in an instant, just so he could fill his fat belly with more carrots from my vegetable garden. That old Cyclone never failed to disappoint…y'know…Andy's gunna love this.