Chapter Two

A man, tall and rail-thin, came out of the darkness brandishing a pistol.

"Evenin'."

Jess looked him over. "What is it you want?"

"No trouble, first off." The man gestured with his gun. "You just toss that iron of yours over this way."

Jess obliged him, and he stuffed the gun into his belt. Then he looked around a little.

"I see you've had a visitor here." He nodded toward the blood that still marked the ground where the deputy marshal had lain earlier. "I'd like to hear what he said to you."

"No visitor," Jess said, putting his arms down to his sides. "I skinned out a couple of rabbits for supper, that's all."

"That's a lot of blood for a pair of rabbits," the man said. "A lot of blood."

Daisy took a step toward him. "But you can see the bones and what's left on the spit."

She walked over to where she'd left her plate, showing the man. Out of his sight, Jess reached over to his own plate there on the ground beside him and grabbed the fork. Setting his teeth, he turned the tines up and quickly raked one down the underside of his forearm, deep as he could. Then he pressed the wound against the tree trunk behind him.

"I'd say somebody came in here to get patched up," the man told her. "Maybe from a bullet in the shoulder."

"I cut myself when I was doing the skinning," Jess said, holding up his arm, showing the torn place.

The man studied him for a second. "That blood's fresh. This has been here awhile."

"It's a deep cut," Jess told him, wincing as he pressed his opposite hand to the wound. "You startled me coming in like you did, and I barked it on this tree and opened it up again."

"And this?"

The man picked up what was left of the torn sheet. Daisy had wiped her hands on it after she bandaged up the deputy and then had used it to clean the blood off him.

The man smirked. "You make a habit of patching up game after you skin it?"

Jess pressed his lips together, and the other man tossed the blood-smeared sheet at him.

"We're gonna want to hear what your visitor said."

Jess wadded up the sheet and pressed it against his arm, slowing the bleeding. "We?"

"You can bring him on in now," the thin man called into the darkness.

There was rustling in the brush, and then two men shuffled into the circle of firelight. The big one, tall and heavyset, was leaning on the little one, making it almost impossible for the smaller man to walk.

"Now get to your feet," the thin one ordered. "And don't try anything."

Jess did as he was told, standing between the three men and Daisy.

"Welles," the small man hissed, swaying a little under his burden.

"Okay." The thin one, Welles, looked at Daisy and then nodded toward Jess's bedroll. "All right, Grandma, you spread out those blankets and make it quick."

Jess bristled, but Daisy only gave him a slight shake of her head and began making a bed on the ground.

"Welles," the small man hissed again, this time more urgent.

"You," Welles said to Jess. "Come over here."

Jess narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"

"I want you to give me a reason not to blow your head off."

Daisy looked up at Jess, silently pleading with him. Jess hurled the wadded sheet to the ground and went over to the man with the gun.

"You get on his other side," Welles said, nodding toward the big man. "Help hold him up until that bed's ready."

Jess ducked under the man's arm and took on his shoulders what felt like his full weight. He could feel the heat and sweat pouring from the man's body and smell the blood that stained his shirt low on one side and soaked down onto his pants.

"Scott," Jess spat, looking up into the gimlet-hard black eyes.

"Well, I guess that saves the trouble of introductions," Welles said. "If you know who he is, the deputy must have told you about us, so you know why we're here."

"So happens, I don't know why you're here. We don't have anything as'd interest you."

"You know," Welles said with a humorless laugh, "we'd all fare a lot better if we start out by being honest with each other, don't you think?"

"I don't—"

Welles shoved the pistol under Jess's chin. "Don't bother saying it if it's gonna be a lie."

Jess clamped his mouth shut, and braced himself under Scott's increasingly heavy weight. The little man on his other side was giving out fast.

"Lay him down," Daisy said finally.

Jess moved Scott to the side of the blankets and eased him down to his knees. Then he slipped out from under his arm. The small man did the same, losing his hat in the process and letting fall a wealth of moonlight-pale hair.

Jess caught his breath, and the woman glared at him.

Daisy put one hand over her heart. "Oh."

Jess said nothing. He just turned Scott onto his backside and then helped him lie down. Scott's black eyes never left Jess's face.

"That's mine, boy," he said, jerking his chin toward the woman. "Don't make me tell you twice."

"You get no argument from me." Jess got to his feet, saw the woman eyeing him, and glared back at her. Then he clutched his still-bleeding arm. "Now what?"

"Find out where it is, Welles," Scott growled. "Go on."

"Let's get down to brass tacks," Wells told Jess. "We want that money."

"What money?" Jess asked.

Welles grabbed Daisy's arm. Jess lunged toward him, but Welles cocked his gun and pressed it against Daisy's side.

"This your ma?"

Jess stood stock still, his whole body wound tight. "Near as."

"Then you ought to mind your manners," Welles said, tightening his grip, "or Grandma here won't like it."

The blonde woman looked at Welles disdainfully as she knelt there tending the wounded man, but she didn't say anything.

Scott fixed his eyes on Jess. "You'd do well to answer him, boy, and make it quick.

"We ain't got any money," Jess spat, and then he fished in his pocket. "I got three dollars. Take it."

He threw the bills down onto the outlaw's chest. Quick as lightening, the big man grabbed Jess's ankle and yanked him to the ground.

Welles turned his pistol on him before he could scramble up again. "I don't know as Mr. Scott heard you right, boy."

"Jess," Daisy breathed as Welles turned the gun back on her.

Jess pushed himself to his knees, breathing hard. "We don't have any money. Never did."

The woman was watching him again. He swept his eyes over her and then curled his lip. Her dark eyes narrowed, and he looked away coldly.

"Now we know that deputy come through here," Welles said. "We tracked him about eight miles past here, and he didn't have that money anymore, so we figure he left it with you. Now, do we need to bust up you and this whole camp? Or are you gonna give it over quiet like?"

"I tell you we don't have it. Yeah, okay, the deputy rode in." Jess nodded at Daisy. "She fixed him up, and he rode on. We never saw any money. All he said was he was headed over to Cheyenne."

Welles shrugged. "Seems he wasn't able to finish up his ride."

Jess glared at him. "You mean you killed him."

"I mean he didn't give the right answers to the questions that was put to him. Don't let him set you a bad example."

"You take a look, Welles," the injured man said. "Callie'll see you don't have anybody trying to slow you down."

The blonde pulled her own pistol from the holster belted around her hips and gestured at Daisy with it. "You just come right over here, ma'am. No need for you to be getting in the way." She looked over at Jess and smiled a little as Daisy came to stand beside her. "Your boy there'll feel a lot steadier knowing I'm lookin' out for you."

Jess could do nothing but stand, fists clenched, as Welles went through everything they had, dumping out Jess's worn saddlebags and Daisy's carpet bag and her purse, grinning as he tucked the little bag of lemon drops into his vest. He emptied out the food supplies they'd brought for the trail and then poked around the feather mattress that lay in the bed of the wagon. He was just about to slash it open with his knife when Scott stopped him.

"No need for that, Welles. I think I'd like to keep that. Just feel around in it. You can tell if there's anything inside."

Welles did as he was told and then shook his head. "Nothin'."

"All right," Scott said. "They've got it hid somewhere then."

Jess took a quick step toward him. "I tell you we never saw it!"

Welles grabbed his arm, jerking him backward and jamming his pistol just at the base of his skull. "And I tell you that deputy didn't have it."

"We know he had it when he rode out of our camp," Scott said. "We know he didn't have it when we caught up to him." One side of his wide mouth turned up. "Can't say as I didn't sympathize with him. It's hard to stay in the saddle when you're about bled out, but he picked a poor time for passin' out. Seems he woke up with his horse gone and us not."

Welles forced Jess to his knees, still with the gun shoved against the back of his head. "We had him just like this, boy, and he was fool enough to keep his mouth shut when he ought to have been talkin'. Don't end up like him."

Jess clenched his jaw, quivering with the need to slap that smug look off the thin man's face.

"Let him go, Welles," Scott said after a moment. "You always make things harder than they need to be. Why Jess here just needs to understand the situation."

"But—"

"I said let him go."

Welles shoved himself away from Jess. Jess went over to stand by Daisy and gave her just a hint of a smile. She gave him a trembling smile in return.

Scott nodded. "That's better. Now, I'm gonna see if this lady will tend to me like she done for that deputy."

Daisy pursed her lips.

"Don't tell me no now, ma'am, because then I won't have much need to keep either of you around."

"I'll need some hot water and bandages," she said stiffly. "And I'm guessing you still have that bullet in you."

Scott shifted a little on his pallet and winced. "Seems so."

"I can see to you," the blonde said.

"You're a good kid, Callie Beth, but you about killed me the last time you tried to fetch a bullet out of me. I think I'll give this lady here a try."

Daisy glanced at Jess and then looked again at Scott, this time studying the wound. "I'll need a knife."

"Give her my knife," the outlaw told Callie. "And my pocket knife."

Callie rummaged in his pocket for the smaller knife and then pulled the buck knife from the sheath on his belt.

Jess's fingers twitched. He could be on the man in half a second and hold that buck knife to his throat until he made Welles and Callie turn over their guns.

"Don't even think it," Welles said. "Sit down on the ground."

Jess took a step toward him.

"Uh uh. Right where you are."

Jess hesitated, and Welles nodded significantly toward Daisy. Jess sat. A moment later his hands were tied behind him, tight enough to make his fingers tingle.

"All right, Grandma," Welles said. "You go on and tend to Mr. Scott there and don't try anything. Your boy won't stand a chance if you do."

Daisy looked over at Jess, and he exhaled heavily. "Go ahead, Daisy."

Daisy turned to Welles and lifted her chin. "I still need hot water and some bandages."

"Get her what she needs, Callie," Welles ordered.

The blonde sprang to her feet. "I don't answer to you, Stan Welles. Get it yourself."

"Do what he says," Scott barked, and with a pout, she went over to the fire to boil some water.

"I'll need what's left of that sheet for bandages," Daisy said.

"Don't look any too clean anymore," Scott growled. "Get somethin' else."

"I don't—"

"You got a petticoat, ain't you?"

Daisy sniffed and then, turning disdainfully, she bent down and tore a discreet three inches from the bottom of her flounced petticoat.

"You got whiskey, boy?" Scott demanded.

Jess glared at him. "No."

"You find any whiskey in their gear, Welles?"

"Nothin', boss. Sorry."

Scott grabbed his arm. "Cut me off a piece of that belt. It's about half too big for you as it is."

Welles took the buck knife and cut about five inches of leather from the end of his belt and put it between Scott's teeth. By then, Callie had the water boiling, and Daisy dropped both knives in. It wasn't long before she had the bullet out and the bleeding stopped and, with Callie's help, was wrapping the petticoat bandage around the big outlaw's middle. Scott had bit clean through that piece of leather Welles had given him, but he never passed out.

Jess had never taken his eyes off Daisy the whole time she'd been working on him, calm and sure as she always was in a crisis. But she wasn't of any use to Scott anymore. Neither was he. A plan. He had to think of something before it was too late.

"You're a good nurse, Daisy," he said as he watched her blotting the sweat from her patient's forehead. "I can't even remember all the times you've patched me up and then tended me till I was better."

"You don't have to talk around me, boy," Scott gasped. "Ain't nothin' happenin' to the lady just now."

Welles cocked his gun and pointed it at Jess. "Don't mean he needs you for any doctorin'."

Daisy stopped what she was doing and looked calmly at Scott. "If anything happens to Jess, then you won't need me either, because I won't be doing any more nursing here."

"Now, ma'am—"

She folded her hands in her lap, leaving the end of the bandage lying loose where she'd left it.

"Go on, Grandma," Welles barked, cocking his pistol.

"Back down, Welles," Scott ordered. "You just back right down."

"Fine," Welles muttered, lowering the gun. "But what about the money? She gets you where you can ride again and then what? There'll be law after us before long. You'll have to lie still at least until mornin' and then what? Are we just gonna up and leave that money behind?"

"We'll track the money down, that's what." Scott shifted on the blankets, grimacing.

"We won't have time! We probably won't make it out of here anyway, held up like we are."

"Then why don't you track after that money now?" Jess asked. "While he's still restin' up? Then you'll have it when he's ready to go."

Welles sneered. "And leave you here with just Callie to stand guard? And him like to pass out any time now?"

Jess shrugged a little. "Thought I'd go along with you."

"Don't make me laugh."

"No foolin'," Jess said as earnestly as he could manage. "I figure you could take me to where you caught up to that deputy, and we could track back from there to where he hid the money. There's no other explanation for what happened to it."

"We already looked," Welles said. "What makes you think you could do any better?"

"I'm a good tracker. I've scouted for the army and ridden with a lot of posses."

"Yeah," Welles jeered. "Army man, big lawman, and you're gonna lead us to stolen money and then let us ride off with it?"

"It ain't my money. And if leadin' you to it'll get you away from us, then I'll lead you to it."

"What kinda fools do you think we are, boy?"

"No," Scott said. "I like it. I like it just fine."

"But, boss—"

"What's he gonna do, Welles? If he steps outta line, he knows I got the lady here. And if she tries to pull anything while she's tendin' me, she knows you got him. I'd say that suits me all the way around."

"What about me?" Callie said after a minute.

"You'll stay here and tend the camp."

She glanced at Jess from under her long lashes and then put her hand on Scott's burly arm. "Better let me go along, honey."

"I don't need her," Welles snapped.

"And what's to keep him from taking off with the money once Jess takes him to it?" Callie asked Scott, pouting slightly. "I'm not so sure he didn't mean for that deputy to shoot you."

Welles' face reddened. "I never—"

"Shut up, Welles," Scott said wearily. "You'll take her along. If you don't try anything, well and good. If you do, you know she can see to you. And I know she'll bring me the money back." He stroked his hand up her arm possessively. "Like a good girl."

She smiled at him, and then she stood up. "Come on, Welles, you heard him."

She took the buck knife, still stained red, and went over to Jess.

"I know how to use this," she said, sinking her fingers into his hair so she could yank his head backward and lay the flat of the knife against his throat, and her voice was very clear. "And my gun." She abruptly released him and leaned down a little to cut the rope that bound his wrists, bringing her mouth close to his ear as she did. "Don't think I'll be any easier to get around than Welles there," she murmured, the words warm against his skin. "Don't think it for one minute."

He let his breath come a little faster as his eyes met hers, and he made his voice low and husky. "Wouldn't dream of it."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Since reviews are big motivators for me and keep me from getting bogged down with a story, I have usually posted my longer stories chapter by chapter as I write them, but I'm wondering now if that's not the way it's generally done in the Laramie fandom. Would it be better if I took this down and posted the whole thing when it's finished? What would you prefer? Let me know what you think. I'd love to know what you think of this chapter, too.