Mose

Jess' fingers gripped the handle, for the door that was prone to sticking made him produce an extra tug to get it open. "Ten minute layover, Mister. You can get out and stretch your legs if you'd like."

"I'll just stay in the coach," said the single passenger, a man somewhere in his thirties that was dressed more for horseback riding than stagecoach traveling.

"Suit yourself," Jess answered, the door making its return to going closed with two taps from Jess' hand and then his eyes wandered upward as that was where Slim's finger was aimed.

"Where's your shotgun man, Mose?"

"I ain't gotta shotgun this time out," Mose answered, his backend staying attached to the driver's seat. "It's all them upper's doings. Don't want no extra baggage when you don't need it."

Slim's hands rested against his hips. "I thought they decided to forget about the added cost when Halloran took over for Potter."

"Don't ask me," Mose said, giving his head a thorough shake. "I only work for the company. You boys gonna switch teams or do I hafta get down and do it myself?"

"We'll do it." Slim covered part of his smile with his fingers as he gave his nose a quick rub. "Come on, Jess."

"Not gonna invade what Daisy's got in the kithen?" Jess asked, giving Mose another glance before his hands began their routine work to unhitch the horses. "She ain't here, but there ain't never something sweet in the cupboard."

"Not this time, Jess," Mose answered, his hand rising to rub across his forehead. "Just get them animals switched, will ya? Already behind on the run."

"Five minutes, maybe." Jess shrugged, walking alongside the pair of horses that were on his side of the coach to the corral as Slim followed with the other two. "He usually don't complain when it's pushing twenty."

"What'd you say, Jess?" Slim asked, leaning around a horse's head to get a look at his partner.

"Nothing. Just wondering why we've gotta work fast when there ain't no reason to."

"Men that please their bosses usually get a pay raise, don't they?"

"I wouldn't know," Jess grumbled, yet it wasn't without a wink and a smile as he worked beside Slim to get the fresh team attached to the stagecoach. "All right, Mose, you're set."

"About time. I'll be seeing you," Mose said, but his eyes were on the team as he twisted his mouth for a high-pitched, "hi-ya!"

Slim watched its backend until the coach rolled out of sight. "Hey, Jess. You think Mose was acting different today?"

"Well, he ain't been back in the seat that long since recovering from that streak across his skull. Maybe he's just feeling the ache in the box. That bounce can get kinda rough even to a solid shape like you and I've got."

"Yeah. Maybe you're right," Slim said, pulling his gloves out of his pocket. "Some wire needs stringing. Do I have to hogtie you for the ride or are you with me from the start?"

"I reckon if I gotta make a choice, I'll choose the one that don't get my hide stung."

"Then let's get to it, Jess."

"Wait a minute, Slim. You hear that?" Jess bent his head toward the westward corner. There were wheels turning. Fast. "Something's wrong, Pard."

"I think you're right," Slim answered, his stride already taking him into the road.

Within a moment, the Sherman wagon was barreling around the corner, Daisy's arms at their tightest as she pulled the racing team to a halt. "Slim! Jess! Come quick!"

"Daisy!" Jess' legs could finally compete with Slim's longer stride as he hustled to the wagon's side. "What's wrong?"

"In the back," Daisy said, her breaths coming short. "I found him along the road."

Jess hopped into the rear, his knee bending alongside the Overland employee that often rode shotgun. With Mose. "It's Denver!"

"He's been shot." Daisy pushed the strands of hair that had blown over her face back where they belonged. "It looked bad but I think I can get it out. If you get him inside I'll get to work and…"

"Daisy." Jess swallowed. There was no easy way to say it, but he had to. "He's dead."

"Oh no!" Daisy's hand crashed over her mouth as she hurried to peer into the back of the wagon. The face of the twenty-year-old wasn't just ashen, but had grown to the deathly shade. He really was gone. "I had so hoped I could help him."

"Where was he, Daisy?" Slim asked, putting his arm around Daisy's shoulders to steer her away from the sorrowful view.

"Not quite two miles out. Just off the fork that goes up to the Widow Johnson's place."

"The Widow Johnson's," Slim said, not needing a long search to find his partner's gaze. "That's a familiar stretch all right. More than one ambush on the stage has been done there before."

"An ambush." Daisy gasped, looking from one man to the other. "You think that's what happened?"

"He wasn't killed for nothing," Jess said, his hand finding the gun in his holster, even though it had never been away from his hip. The empty space next to Mose's seat suddenly had a whole new meaning.

Their thoughts collided as they connected gazes, but it was Slim's voice that proclaimed it first. "Jess, Mose is in trouble."

Jess was already in a run toward his mount. "That man in the coach. I reckon he ain't no ordinary passenger."

"Let's go," Slim shouted during his hop upward, and as soon as both men hit leather, they were in the stagecoach's trail.

.:.

"You'll never get away with it," Mose said, wriggling underneath the binds that wrapped him, but they were too tight to shift his hands to do any good.

"That's what they all say." He fanned a stack of money against his sweaty cheek and then dropped the wad on top of what had already been stuffed in his saddlebag.

"Yeah, but in some instances, it's true." Mose tossed a defiant nod, but then it started to recoil as a hand came toward him with a handkerchief. He knew exactly what it was for. Mose pulled his head even farther back, but the inability to move his entire body made the cloth be inserted right between his teeth.

"There." He smiled, giving Mose's cheek a pat. "But this time, Old Man, I will. Or, in this instance, we will."

Mose followed the man that he had reluctantly carried in the stagecoach with his eyes as he met up with the other. Although neither had said so, they looked close enough to be brothers to call them such. The dang-blasted duo. He wished that he had never laid eyes on either of them. At the first glance, Mose had a feeling they were up to no good when they stopped the coach just below the Widow Johnson's, and that feeling went all the way to reality when one of them shot Denver right out of his seat.

With the same gun rising toward Mose's head, he had no choice but to let one of them ride inside, and his choices were trimmed down even further when he pulled up at the relay station. The outlaw had done his homework and knew exactly what was ahead and said as much. Mose still cringed thinking about the threatening words that had spat off of his tongue at the mention of who would be welcoming the coach at the stage stop. Slim and Jess would have each been shot if Mose would have even batted his eye the wrong way. Mercy, it was a good thing that Miss Daisy wasn't there. He would have grown stiffer than frozen molasses if she had been in their threatening path too.

Mose grunted through the bandana as he thought of the stacks of cash that equaled close to five thousand hidden in a saddlebag. The pair of no-accounts could blabber all they wanted about their victory, but Mose was still holding onto hope that they would be stopped before they could spend a nickel of the Overland's money. Slim and Jess were no slouches. They would figure it out before the sun would go down, he was sure of it. But as Mose glanced up to see the sun perched just past the noon hour, he gave a soft sigh. The boys better make it sooner than that. He figured his time was about up. And here it came.

"We're done with you, Old Man," said the one that rode inside the coach. "You were only useful until the stage rolled into the relay station. Now that it's equipped with fresh horses that we'll be using to get us out of the territory on, you and this rickety ride can be done with."

So that was why they didn't wait until after the coach left Sherman's to hold it up. Made sense, as they both would need extra mounts to carry their ornery hides to wherever their destination would take them. But as Mose watched the pair with narrowed eyes, he could make a stout bet that their final destination would be nothing but an unmarked grave. The air was suddenly caught in the back of his throat and if his mouth wasn't already shoved full of wet fabric, he would have gasped. Mose was destined for the same.

"Get inside the coach," he commanded, the gun's point at his chest without waver. "It'll look just like a bad crash. Everyone will assume it happened around the corner there. The horses broke free but the coach kept going willy-nilly, dropping you down with it. By the time your body's recovered in the wreckage and discover a different story, we'll be long gone."

It went through Mose's head again, but even if he wasn't restricted from speech, he might not have said it aloud. He still didn't think that the outlaws would get away with it, but one thing was for sure, he would never see its day. Mose couldn't help but look toward the Sherman's border, three miles behind him, but as it disappeared with his step inside of the coach, his eyes trailed downward. They weren't going to make it in time to save him, but another form of confidence would go all the way to his dying breath. The two brothers would see the two partners. Guaranteed.

Mose closed his eyes as the wheels began to turn, and with a crumble of rocks beneath him, the coach was pushed over the cliff.

.:.

"How far you reckon he's gonna make Mose carry him?" Jess' holler didn't need to travel far, as Slim was riding his mount right alongside of Jess', yet the wind still whipped his words a lengthy span.

"Not all the way to Cheyenne, that's for sure."

Jess shook his head, his hand coming away from this thigh to point east. "Probably won't get to Crown Point either."

"You thinking what I am?"

"Yeah. If he had something similar planned for Mose as he did Denver, it could be pretty close now. Dad-gum, if I only had thought of pressing Mose for why he wasn't his normal self then..."

"Then he'd probably be dead," Slim said, barging into Jess' words.

"Could be that now anyway."

"Jess, don't think so..."

Jess returned the interruption to Slim with a snap. "It ain't what I think, it's what I feel. My gut knows bad things, Slim. Don't ask me how. It just does."

"I know it does, Pard, but we've got to keep our heads on straight if we come across..." This time it wasn't a voice stepping onto his tongue to silence him, it was a sight. A bend in the road opened up the ravines below, and at the bottom was the stagecoach. Upside down. "Oh no."

The horses were pulled up at the obvious site where the coach had gone over, but it didn't take much searching in the dust to realize that there was much more to the story than an accident with the stagecoach. It had been deliberate. They were at the place where fear and anger began to burn together, and the wisps of smoke brought both men out of the saddle, but it was Jess that was wearing a gun in his hand.

Slim traced his fingers through the footprint, larger than the other and then he lifted his eyes toward Jess. His partner likely already knew what he was going to say. "There's more than one."

"Dad-gum." Jess connected the tip of his iron with the line of the men's exit, but with only their marks remaining in the dirt, there wouldn't be the pulling of the trigger. Yet.

"With the one waiting in the coach, the other must've been down the road a piece. No wonder Mose didn't dare twitch an ear toward us when there were multiple hands pointing a gun at him."

"And they did this to him anyway," Jess said, and with its use being delayed, Jess dropped his gun into his holster. He reached for his horse, the coil of rope from his saddle suddenly in Jess' hand.

"Jess," Slim said, watching as Jess leaned over the cliff's side. He knew how far it was without even looking. Too far for the single rope.

He tied one end to a trunk of a narrow tree and then when the knot was secure, Jess gave it a rough tug. It would hold him all right. Casting another look over his shoulder at what was below, Jess walked to Slim's horse, the need for the second coil making him pull it away from Slim's gear, its unraveling done with a single flick of his wrist.

"Jess," Slim repeated, tossing the name out of his mouth with enough meaning behind the tone that Jess slapped the ground with the rope like he had been brandishing a whip.

"Dadgummit, Slim! You think I can ride off after those two and not know about Mose? I'm going down there."

Slim's hand fit into Jess' shoulder, the hard knot underneath his palm only growing harder as he squeezed into his flesh. "I agree with you, Pard. But I also know you'd be in agreement with me that those two need to be caught. While the trail is still hot. It's going to take time down there. We can send someone back..."

"No!" Jess broke free from Slim's touch with one step, spinning around to face him instead. "No matter how old their tracks get, they can ride all the way into winter's coldest day and I'd still be able to find them. But I ain't leaving until I know about Mose."

Slim nodded, the ache in his middle matching Jess'. He needed to know the final outcome just as much as Jess did. "All right, Pard. I'm with you."

"Then what are we standing up here talking for? Let's get down there."

There was no need to flip a coin as to which one would make the descent first. Jess was already taking steps down the slope before Slim could touch the rope's security. Since Jess was always the more careless of the two, his backward hops were at a much wider margin tham Slim's more practical movements, making Jess have the harder thumps in his chest for more than one reason. The biggest, however, was reserved for the moment he landed.

He saw the body outside the coach, lying on his belly, straight, as there could be no other position with a rope tied around his upper half. Jess' knife stretched outward with his hand, giving the first line a slice, and although it immediately reduced the tightness, he ran the blade over the others to completely free Mose from the binds.

Jess tasted the filth of anger on his tongue as he started to roll Mose over, expecting to choke on its vile flavor at what he was about to discover, but then his throat went suddenly dry as he saw the chest lift with life.

Jess tugged the bandana out of his pale lips, and the result, a beautiful sound floated out with the cloth. "Mose?"

"Mmm."

"Slim!" Jess hollered to his partner still above him, the sound creating an awakening jolt to go through the one below him. "He's alive!"

"Ah. Jess." Mose turned his head to find the voice, his eyes latching onto the snapping blue above him. It was Jess, all right. No one else could glare like that. "Good boy. I knew you'd get here. But you're too late to save me."

"Too late?" Jess barked, the fear that he didn't like to ever express pounded in his temples hard enough that it made his lower limbs shake. He had seen enough death in his lifetime that watching a man go through it didn't frighten him, but when it was a good friend, the forbidden emotion could never be controlled.

"Yeah, good ol' Saint Pete went and propped them pearly gates open for me."

"Well, you ain't gone through yet and if I got any say about it, I ain't gonna let you."

"I ain't?" Mose put his hand on his chest and then gave a harder tap. "I did feel that, all right. You mean I ain't... crossed over?"

"Of course you ain't. You're jawing with me ain't you?"

"Hah! I reckon I am! I thought I was a goner so much that I didn't even know that I wasn't!" Mose's mouth widened with a grin, his eyes twinkling, but as he started to laugh, the eyelids suddenly scrunched. "Well, I'm still a bit too close for comfort anyway."

"How bad do you hurt Mose?" Jess asked, running his hand along Mose's ribs. He could feel at least one out of place. And then there was the blood that had changed his hair color, the odd bend of his ankle, and then there were all the places that Jess couldn't see.

"Pretty busted up. Head all the way down to my toes."

"I'd imagine what with the kinda drop you made," Jess said, his eyes running back up the slope to find Slim returning to the top. They didn't need to exchange the words to know what his sudden change meant. Jess being with Mose meant that Slim was the only one to move the horses, as they would need to proceed from a different direction to get Mose on level ground again. "But dad-gum, it sure coulda been worse."

"Yeah, they expected so too."

Jess' body stiffened at the mention of the men responsible, except for his right hand, because it was feeling for his gun. "Who were they Mose?"

"Don't know their names. Brothers, though. Gotta be by the way they looked alike. I told them they weren't gonna get away with this."

Jess gripped the butt of his gun, the vow coming both in feeling the weapon and through the hardness of his voice. "And they won't."

"Good boy. That's what I wanted to hear," Mose smiled, trying to sit up, but the pain shooting through his frame nearly took him back into oblivion's wide-open arms.

"Take it easy, Mose. Slim's going around to the bottom. It'll be easier to get you out that way than try to take you up."

"You think there's a chance I'm gonna pull through?"

"You'll live," Jess said, although he knew before the quick reply had ever left his lips that Mose meant more than living or dying. It was what might be coming afterward. The injuries putting him out to pasture. "You still got some vinegar left in them veins of yours. Don't worry that it won't be enough."

"Thanks Jess," Mose answered, giving his head a slow nod. "I needed that."

He didn't really go out, but Mose's lights did dim as Jess waited for Slim to bring the horses around to the slope's bottom, the arousal coming again when Slim kneeled by Mose's side. Some people might have never called Mose the greatest looking fellow ever, but to Slim at that moment, he was beautiful.

Mose cracked a smile. "Slim."

"It's good to see you, Mose. You're going to be just fine."

"By golly, because of you two, I am."

"Give most of your thanks to Jess," Slim said, getting Jess to shake his head, but Slim knew better. They had both had their doubts for Mose being alive, but because Jess couldn't leave a single thread of hope dangling over the hillside, survival could make it all the way home.

"Well, I guess I've gotta go."

Slim could guess the answer by what was written on his partner's face, yet he asked anyway. "Where are you headed?"

"Mose is safe, which means it's time for the other part of this and I ain't gonna rest until a pair of brothers get what's coming for them."

"You show 'em Jess."

"We'll both show them," Slim promised, giving Mose's shoulder a pat. "As soon as I get you to a doc, I'm joining up with Jess."

"Good luck catching up with me. I ain't gonna wait."

"I didn't figure you would," Slim said, watching as Jess rode out, his horse pounding hard along the outlaws' trail.

.:.

It was dark. Night usually offered killers like a certain duo room to hide in for the set of hours that light was gone, but not when a certain man was after them. Jess rode into the starlight, the trail gone invisible, but his instincts were still shining bright. He dismounted at the tingling of his backbone, wanting to take the rest of the forward motion in Indian silence, and with only one crunch under his boot that went ignored, Jess was able to sneak to a close enough position that he could hear their every breath. And their every word.

"Coffee's gone. Think we should stamp out the fire?"

"Nah. No need. We got a good lead what with the old man and his sidekick out of commission. We should be safe enough for the night and likely well into tomorrow too, so let's get some sleep."

Think again. It was the leading thought in Jess' head as the point of his gun centered on the man that had been riding in the stagecoach, but he left it there, as he wanted the first noise to be that of his gun. With everything in his being ready, Jess touched the hammer, the double flinches done simultaneously and then Jess stepped into the firelight. Now he could let his voice become involved, and every bit of it was full of bitter gravel, ready to be unleashed with the first spit off of his tongue.

"The old man's name is Mose. And he ain't dead. But you're gonna be if you don't drop your irons in the dirt."

"Don't do it, Ned," said the brother that had ridden in the coach, his body pulling away from his bedroll. "He's only one man. We're two."

"Count again." Slim's voice rang from the brush on the opposite side and then in one step, he walked into the light. "You're both covered, so do as my partner says."

He didn't know how he had ever caught up, but the grin spread across Jess' face when the pair of guns clunked to the ground. "See, you didn't get away with it after all."

.:.

The stage came barreling around the corner in the rough fashion that could only be one driver. Mose. Coming away from the corral where the team waited for their turn to run, Slim and Jess stood on each side of the coach as the wheels stilled, the dust shower that they both received not enough to fade the smiles that were spread across their faces.

"Howdy Mose!" Slim called, reaching up to give him a hand out of the seat, but it was quickly brushed away.

"Slim." Mose landed on the ground with a nod, but then his head turned toward the house with an elongated sniff. "I could smell pie from a mile off. Is it apple?"

"It sure is, Mose," Daisy said, coming out of the house with a plate. "You can enjoy it while they switch the team."

"I sure will, Miss Daisy. I've been thinking about this bite since I loaded up this morning!"

"If they take too long, I can get you another," Daisy said with a laugh, but it wasn't only Mose's ears that heard her, and Slim and Jess didn't dawdle with their duties.

"It's ready for you," Slim said, patting the lead horse as he took a step backward.

Mose wiped a sleeve over his mouth. "That was sure quick, you going for a record or something?"

"Could be," Slim answered with a wink. "I guess you'll have to time us your next trip in."

"I'll do that," Mose said, starting to lift his frame back into the driver's box.

Jess tipped his hat up a notch with his finger as he raised his eyes toward the coach's top. "I reckon that sounds like you ain't ready to retire yet, huh, Mose?"

"Who me? Nah. Just because I got a little black and blue don't mean I ain't fit to ride this thing. Since you saved my hide boys, I've still got some time left, so I figure I might as well use it doing what I enjoy the most. Well, it ain't gonna get there unless I slap the reins. Gotta get on to Cheyenne before they think I rolled down a hill again. See you!"

"Bye Mose," Slim and Jess said in unison, and as the stagecoach wheeled around the corner, a pair of hands slapped each other on the back.