"Do you think Slim'll be on the afternoon stage, Jess?"

Jess looked up from the dishes he was washing. "I dunno, Andy. I hope so."

Things had slowly been coming together in the four days since Jess had woken up. He had stayed in bed the first day on the advice of the doctor – and, more significantly, because his muscles felt like vibrating apart and his head went dizzy every time he tried anything more strenuous than going to the outhouse. Andy had taken care of the bare necessities, like changing the teams and keeping both of them fed. The next three days involved catching up with all the chores that had been overlooked with Skeenan's interruption in their lives, appeasing Mose and the many other stage drivers put out by their absence, and worrying about Slim. Mostly worrying about Slim.

Until a telegraph had come, explaining that Slim was alive and safe and taking the stage home in the next few days.

Andy peered out the window again, a wet plate dripping in his hand as he watched for any movement in the yard. He was only pulled back from staring when Jess tugged the plate out of his hand.

"I thought you were gonna help me with the cleaning," said Jess, but the twinkle in his eye undermined the scolding words.

"Sorry, Jess," said Andy. "I just keep hopin', ya know?" He reached for the plate. "I'll get back to it."

Jess pulled the plate out of reach. "Oh no, you don't. I ain't gonna let you get underfoot by half-washing dishes I'll have to wash all over again. Be better for both of us if you just go outside and watch for the stage."

Andy looked remorseful. "I couldn't do that, Jess. I said I'd help ya, and I will."

Jess smiled and dried his wet hands roughly in Andy's hair. "I'm excited to see him too, Tiger." He pushed the boy to the door. "Go on, git."

Andy grinned broadly. "Thanks, Jess!" He flung open the door and ran out into the sunshine, hopping onto the lower rung of the corral fence and leaning out towards the horizon.

Jess watched him run out, grinning, but the grin slipped as he thought about Slim coming home. He was excited for his partner's return, maybe as much as Andy, but unlike Andy, there was an underlying current of anxiety. The last time he'd seen Slim, his partner had been wobbling uncertainly with a head wound. Andy had reported some pretty bad beatings. And he'd been left alone with a group of men who hated his guts. Jess could only imagine what Slim was going to look like when he finally did come home.

And the longer Slim was away, the worse he was likely injured. Every day that Slim didn't come, in Jess's mind, meant another broken bone, another cut, another head wound. When he finally did take the stage in, what kind of condition would he be in?

And how, exactly, would he feel about the partner who introduced him to a killer, endangered his little brother, and got himself tied up in the root cellar?

Andy's excited voice hollered from outside. "That's the stage, Jess! It's coming!"

Jess left the bucket of soapy water to watch the horizon, pit in his stomach growing with the haze of dust on the horizon. "Sure is, Andy. Just don't be too disappointed if Slim ain't on it, okay? There's lots of stages, maybe he just didn't make this one."

"Yeah, Jess, I know," said Andy. "Don't worry, I ain't got my hopes up."

He schooled his features into a calm that was fooling nobody, and Jess understood completely. It had been two days and several stages bereft of the most important passenger since they received the telegraph about Slim, but Jess still felt his heart jumping every time another stage rolled through.

Pounding horses sprouted from the hill, followed by the driver and the looming boxiness of the Overland Stagecoach. For all Jess strained his eyes, he couldn't make out the passengers through the window.

Until the stage pulled to a halt directly in front of where he and Andy were standing.

"Slim!"

Andy didn't even give Slim the chance to get out of the stage. He flung the door open himself, then, when Slim stayed sitting on the bench a moment longer than necessary, jumped into the coach and hugged his brother with all his strength.

Slim let out a gasping laugh. "Woah, easy there, Andy," he said, gently prying off his brother's arms. At the sound of his voice, Jess let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He sounded all right, at any rate. "I'm not quite stitched together yet. And we'd better get out before Smitty drives us all the way into Laramie."

"That's right." Smitty jumped down from the driver's seat, wrinkled face schooled into a curmudgeonly grimace. "I got a schedule to keep, and the sun ain't gonna hold still just to accomeedate you." A wink undermined his gruff words. "Yer stop, Mr. Sherman."

Slim grinned as he followed Andy out of the stage. "Thanks, Smit." He managed to hold himself upright well enough, but Andy still hovered next to him in case his brother needed someone to lean on.

With Slim all the way out of the stage and in the full light of the sun, Jess was able to finally take in his partner's ragged appearance, and it was enough to make him hate Skeenan all over again. There were fading bruises around Slim's eye, and heavy brushburns on his hands and another cut across his face that looked like it had just started healing, and a bandage around his wrist. And he moved stiffly, as if a rib or two were hurting him some.

Not, thought Jess, the best way to come home. But better than a pine box.

Andy was not ignorant of the injuries, either. "Slim…what happened to you?"

Slim patted Andy's shoulder with his good hand. "Nothing permanent, Andy." He glanced up at Jess, taking in the frilly apron around his waist and the water dripping from his fingers, and grinned. "Nothing nearly as bad as being domesticated, anyway."

Jess scowled and leaned against the doorway, trying to look affronted and not relieved that his partner had come home healthy enough to crack a joke. "It's about time you made it back," he said gruffly. "I was getting' tired of taking care of this place all by myself."

Slim's grin widened. "Sorry to disappoint, Pard, but the doc was pretty clear about getting lots of rest. I guess you'll just have to keep up with the chores on your own for a while."

"I shoulda knowd you'd figure a way to get out of work," grumbled Jess. He pulled off the apron and tossed it behind him while Slim made his slow way into the house, leaning slightly on Andy. As their paths crossed, Jess pressed a hand to Slim's shoulder.

"You all right?" he asked, quietly, seriously, and Slim met his somber gaze and nodded.

"I'm all right. You?"

Jess beamed and clapped Slim's shoulder. "Swell, Pard." He pushed Slim gently to the house. "Now go get that beauty rest. Heaven knows you need it."

Slim didn't need any more encouragement.

XXX

Andy sat against the shade of the house, his newest pet – a spotted skunk with a hurt paw who Jess refused to go near, even though Andy insisted she was friendly – settled in his lap. The sun was bright, the sky was blue, and life on the ranch had resumed its patterns. At this moment, Andy was watching as Slim chopped firewood. Slim was recovering even faster than Jess had; in another day or two, everything would be back to normal. As if it had never happened.

Andy shivered in the warm summer sun, remembering Skeenan. Remembering everything that had happened because of him. He'd been trying to talk to Slim ever since the stage brought his brother in, but the words could never come out. Because Skeenan had left them with more than a broken desk and a few scrapes and bruises.

"Hey, Slim?" Andy managed to say, and he was almost disappointed when his brother turned to him immediately. Because he needed to talk about it, but that didn't mean he wanted to talk about it.

"Yeah, Andy?" The bruises had faded almost completely, the cuts had stitched themselves together, and the brushburns were nothing but faint pink patches of skin. The only residual mark from Skeenan was the bandage around his wrist, and he was only wearing that while working.

Andy swallowed. Then swallowed again. "I'm sorry I left you with Skeenan."

Slim stared at him for a second, then lodged the ax into the chopping block and walked over to the shade of the tree. "We talked about this, Andy. It was the only way to save Jess. And you, too, most likely."

Andy hadn't thought of that – how escaping had probably kept him alive. But of course Slim thought of it. He probably hadn't stopped thinking about how to get Andy away from Skeenan since the first moment the man pulled a gun.

"Still." Andy couldn't shake the memory, the image of Slim with his arms cuffed around a tree, smiling at him like he wasn't surrounded by men who wanted him dead. "I wanted to ride out with the sheriff, after I told them about everything and we sent the telegraph about Jess, but they wouldn't let me."

"And thank goodness for that," said Slim with feeling. He sat and leaned against the tree, and Andy had to give him credit for not shying away from the skunk. "Jess needed you more than I did. I had a whole posse backing me up, thanks to you." He grinned. "Besides, the state I was in, you probably would've been more upset being there. I wasn't much of a sight."

That didn't make Andy feel much better, but he accepted it – Slim was all right, and Jess was all right, and Skeenan was in jail and would likely be there for a long, long time, and that was all that mattered.

Except it wasn't.

"I hated it." The words tore from deep in Andy's lungs, so true and so painful that they felt like coals coming out. "Choosing between you and Jess and wondering what he was gonna do next – I hated all of it. And I hate him for it."

At his words, Slim shifted, moving so his side was flush against Andy's, and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "I know, and I'm sorry. I hated it, too."

"And watching you lying on the carpet after the men beat you up, and not being able to do anything about it, and leaving Jess behind, and leaving you behind – " Angrily, Andy shoved the skunk from his lap, but she did nothing more threatening than look affronted and amble away. "The moment I had to choose between you and Jess, it was the worst moment in my life. I never wanna have to do that again, Slim."

Slim's arm tightened around him. "And I never want you to. But you showed real character that night, Andy. You kept your head and you did the best you could, and Jess and I are both alive because of it." Andy looked up and saw nothing but sincerity in Slim's eyes. "You should be proud. I know I am."

A little of the guilt of that night washed away, enough that it wasn't aching his shoulders quite so much, and he matched Slim's smile with one of his own. But the smile quickly faded as he remembered something else.

"Slim…" He wasn't quite sure how to say it. "There were some things Skeenan said…about you, and Jess, and how I feel about the two of you…"

"I don't think we should be putting too much stock in Skeenan's words." Slim practically spat the name out, which took Andy a bit by surprise – he'd never heard his usually easygoing brother speak with so much venom.

"Yeah," agreed Andy hesitantly, "but still, he sorta made it sound like I had to pick one of you over the other, and I just wanted you to know, Slim…well, I know we don't always get along, but you're my big brother, and I think just as much of you as I do of Jess – even if it's harder to show it, sometimes."

The words came out in a jumbled rush, quick and messy, and it didn't seem to Andy like he'd said everything he wanted to say, but when Slim's hand came up and pushed Andy's head to his chest in a makeshift hug, he knew he'd gotten his point across.

"I know it, Andy," his big brother said simply, and another coating of stress rolled off Andy's back as he leaned into the hug.

The moment was interrupted as Jess slammed out of the kitchen. "Doggone it, Slim, you were supposed to bring me more wood for the stove!" Catching sight of the two brothers sitting together under the tree, some of his ire dropped off. "Something the matter?"

"Not anymore," said Slim, and Andy was surprised to realize that it was true. Everything that Skeenan had done was still there, locked in his memory, but it was beginning to feel less like an open sore and more like a scab – it hurt, but he was finally able to believe it was going to go away.

"Well, in that case, I better tell you the bread's ruined," said Jess, back to being put out. "And if you're expecting anything warmer than pump water, you'd better get to work."

Jess slammed back into the house as Slim, with a chuckle, rose to resume chopping the wood, and Andy settled back against the rough bark of the tree, enjoying the shade and listening to the sounds of living.