Chapter Four

He was halfway there. Halfway to a grave. Halfway to a goodbye.

Jess had left Laramie in such a heated pursuit, the miles were eaten without a fork and spoon, merely swallowed whole. But now he was taking the thirty miles like he was on a sightseeing adventure. Every tree, stream, rock and hillside had to be examined by his eyes because he didn't know when a stranger just might peek around one of those corners. A stranger that had changed his name to Slim's Killer. A stranger that would feel the pain of Jess' retaliation in a much more violent way than by the number of bullets in his gun.

But going slow meant that he would have to set up camp one more night before he got to his destination. The yawn that split his face apart told him that it would come before the sun dipped low enough to turn the color to dusk. Finding a tolerable site, Jess settled the horses and then set out his own provisions. He didn't know how long it had been since he had eaten, but by the way his stomach greedily grabbed at the hardtack he put between his teeth, it must have been too long.

After the addition of jerky and more than one draining of his coffee cup, Jess' hand rested across his chest. The deep rise and then its fall made his lashes lower and hover there. With a jolt to his frame Jess was back across slumber's line, but there was a power stronger than he, and it was about to take its firmest hold. Even the grief that pounded hard and heavy in his core wasn't going to keep him upright. Stretching out, Jess sought comfort, but the gnawing ache between his ribs only increased.

But how did Jess ever figure it was going to ease? Slim was dead. He wouldn't be able to get away from that fact awake, asleep or even in eternity. It was why he was going farther away from home than riding back to Laramie. What was more, it was the reason he was willing to kill.

Jess' thoughts had kept a firm grip on his being, but the darkness finally got to him. Head beginning to bob toward his chest, Jess didn't fight its fall. However, exhaustion that weighed this heavily would come with its own price. When he closed his eyes, sleep was at a deep enough caliber that he experienced a rare fail.

He missed the man that entered his camp.

Jerking Jess out of his sleep, the shrill note filled the air. Instantly recognizing his horse's call to him being that of the most severe alarm, Jess' hand removed the pistol from his hip as he rose. He was already too late. The gun was fired, but the hooves of his mount were turning a corner. In the dim light of the stars, Jess saw the figure astride his back, low over the saddle-horn but not hurt. Considering how high the stakes were, he should have never missed!

Wanting to get in the horse thief's dust cloud and fire a couple of more rounds, Jess spun. His shock stopped his feet, made his mouth hang open and the hand that clasped his iron withered at his side.

Both horses were gone.

Now a different kind of anger filled his lungs. He could have been a cougar with the way he roared. "No!"

Turning back to where Jess had laid, he kicked the bedroll clear across his camp. How could he have been so careless? How could he let this happen when Slim's killer was still roaming free? The thought crossed his mind that the thief and the killer were one and the same, but Jess quickly brushed the thought away. There wasn't a single part of Jess' body that wouldn't have reacted to being in the presence with that man. He would have drawn his pistol and pulled the trigger even during his sleep.

Yet having that kind of confidence to catch Slim's killer could do little for this newest problem. He was afoot. His hand slammed against the tree that had been the secure hold of the line that was now around his feet, his internal blame, like his internal flame, growing stronger.

Stepping away from his camp, Jess put his feet in the horse tracks and stared at the road that rolled out in front of him. "Now what?"

Well, he certainly wasn't going to give up.

It was still dark, but he might as well start walking. Sleep forgotten, Jess went into the road and looked toward the west, the direction the horses were led out on. He might as well start there. It incensed Jess' core even further to go away from Slim's grave instead of to it, but there was always the possibility that the horse thief was nothing more than an idiot that would set up camp a mile down the road.

By dawn that option was scratched.

Standing along a stream that had the tracks going in but not out, Jess realized he had been following an empty trail, whose creation could not have come by any amateur. He didn't think that his gut could sink any lower, but it did. Likely Jess would never see the two horses again. Just like Slim.

His torso twisting, Jess' eyes followed an invisible line to a stranger's house far off into the distance. Now getting to Slim's grave wasn't considered halfway anymore, but the kind of long haul that would feel like it had no end. Even while riding Jess had felt like he was following a path best marked as "Nowhere". And now that he was on foot, the longer it would take him to reach the beginning there at Slim's grave, which would make it longer, and harder, to discover its ending, where another man would lie.

But he had to. With everything that was alive inside of him agreed. He had to find Slim's killer and make him pay. His hand took the familiar route to his hip and touched the handle of his iron. At least he still had his weapon. And he had something else too, his stamina.

His body as solid as the ground underneath him, Jess walked.

By afternoon, he wouldn't have been able to give his appearance the same assessment. At a crossroads a mile or so back, while debating a change of direction, Jess' boot dipped into a chuck hole. It twisted his knee, nothing more, but picking up a limp he wondered if he would cover more ground if he crawled.

Another hour and the punishment wasn't only reserved for his leg, but is entire body. Soaked with sweat, Jess leaned against a stump, his breaths hard, but his mind lashing at him even worse. He knew quitting wasn't an option, yet his brain wouldn't stop pushing him to go. Hand upon his knee, Jess stretched his leg out, ready to start putting one foot in front of the other again, no matter how slow, when his head turned back to the ground he had already covered.

Hearing the steady clop of hooves and the wagon that the animals pulled, Jess stared at the empty place behind him. In another minute it would be filled with the image that was only touching his ears. A breath full of intrigue going into his lungs, suddenly he hurried off of the road.

Invisible to whoever was coming on the roadway, Jess sat alongside the stump, his heart beating with the rotation of the wheels. When it would reach his position, he would leap into its path. Waiting until he could catch a glimpse around the stump's jagged edge, Jess allowed one eye to view his potential ride. A woman. Jess' swallow became lodged in his throat. Could he pull a gun on a woman? Eyeing the only transportation that he had seen all day, Jess nodded. He had to.

Coming into the open, Jess solidified his stance in the road's center. Immediately the team began to slow, but Jess sensed the opposite desire lived inside of his victim. Likely she was moments away from giving the reins a mighty thwack and a hearty command to go with it. With a rise of his chin, he connected his blue with whatever shade she wore. It could have been anything, because all he saw was fire. Scoundrel must have been written all over him. Meeting the horses with a raised hand, when the closest nose began to pass, Jess caught the reins and held tight.

The woman's hands, noticeably with a shiny band on her tell-all finger, didn't budge on her end. "What do you want, Mister?"

"Ma'am." Jess' finger went up to tip his hat. Strange that he could be a gentleman one second and a villain the next. "I'd like to ask for a seat in your wagon. You see, my horses…"

"No." She was as fast with her tongue as Jess was with his gun.

"But I'm afoot, Ma'am."

"That's your problem." There went her experienced draw again.

Jess couldn't help but smirk. Maybe he should have twisted his lips a bit higher with that old Harper charm that made women swoon, but he figured with this one, it wouldn't matter how much teeth he showed. "I reckon it is, but you can ease that problem by letting me ride with you a spell. You see, I gotta get ten or more miles in before dark. Please, Ma'am."

Where his mouth held onto the most simplistic form, inwardly he was silently begging her to comply. Because if she didn't, then Jess would have to stoop even lower than he already had. His eyes flicked down to his front. Not a lot of dust covered him, but it soon would if he had to turn into a snake.

"I will not."

Anger swelled inside of him, but not at the woman. At himself, for Jess' hand was taking iron out of leather. In one movement, the point was completed, and Jess saw the swelling of her eyes and the tremble of her lips as she became his aim.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. But you will."

Watching her grow paler with each step he took toward her, the woman's mouth was all that remained pink when he took the position next to her, yet the sturdiness he felt beside him was undeniable. At his glance down, Jess saw the rifle and his chest lurched. How close had she been to pulling it up to be at his level? He might not have had the guts to fire, but her? He had the sense that she was quite able to do so.

Moving the rifle away from her reach, he met her gaze, so dark that he could have been staring at a pair of coals. "Thank you for not challenging me."

She avoided the direct reply, but the way her eyes lingered on the rifle's barrel longer than what she had given Jess' face, he figured more than the thought had been there.

Her chin went up a notch. "What do you want from me?"

"Exactly what I said before. I need some miles underneath me by nightfall. Your rig's all I got to get there." The gun slipped across his waist to push into her ribcage. "And I ain't gonna abandon you to the road and walk like I've had to do. So drive."

"Where to?"

"You're already going in the right direction. Just go until I tell you stop."

With a click of her tongue against the roof of her mouth, the horses were again in motion. Although Jess' eyes wandered to the road long enough to make sure it stayed clear of other passersby, he couldn't help but watch her. She wasn't much different in age than what had been tagged to his hide at his last birthday. She was attractive, stronger than most, but she belonged to somebody else. The wedding ring stating that fact clear enough, he wouldn't even think of putting a flirtatious note to his lips. But even if she declared her singleness the moment he laid eyes on her, why would a woman like her want him? He was no good, not good at all.

Apparently she shared the same thought.

"You must be running from the law." Her eyes slanted sideways to meet his blue long enough to catch his negative shake. "No? Well, you will be after this."

She might be right at that. What had Sheriff Gregory said? Oh yeah. He would make one allowance for his grief. That had been used up inside of the livery. But even if Jess had been given a stack of allowances to use by every lawman in the territory, this was a different matter altogether. He was a kidnapper, and he didn't even know his victim's name.

Jess tried to raise the corner of his mouth. "My name's Jess Harper. What's yours?"

She remained in silence, not even glancing his way. Well, he didn't really need to call her by anything, but he was about to find out one of her titles.

"Mama?" The soft call came from the wagon's rear.

A kid? Jess' head sharply turned over his shoulder and his eyebrows jumped a mile. Not just a kid. But a baby too. He was holding a mother with two kids, the oldest boy likely four, and a cooing infant by gun point. If he didn't kick himself in the gut just then, he surely wished someone would.

"Mama, sumpin' wrong?"

Where the woman could have held ground with a badger before, her tone became instantly soothed. "It's all right, Cody. Keep a sharp watch over your sister."

The towhead crept closer. "Who's that man?"

"Nobody. Now do as I say."

Nobody. That about summed Jess up, all right.

As the angle of his head hadn't turned back toward the front, Jess watched as Cody sat down next to his sister. At first he took in the appearance of his mother, straight-backed and tight-lipped, but after a minute passed, those young eyes narrowed, boring into him. Even the kid knew he was a rough-neck, going so far as balling both little fists at his side. Unable to take the visual pummeling, Jess looked away.

Around each bend in the road, Jess tried to let conversation slip out of his mouth, but nothing moved farther than his throat. Idle chatter really didn't fit into abduction. But that wasn't what he was really doing. Jess might as well call it by its rightful name. He was using them. Yet that idea didn't make this any better. Maybe it was worse. But if Jess was going to keep questioning himself, he might just leap from the wagon, for no matter what he was doing, he was wrong.

But he didn't have to take that jump.

There was a house in the distance, quiet and dark, but Jess didn't need to go by any outward sign. The clenching of his gut told him this was the right place. The place where Slim had died.

He closed his hand over hers, surprised that there was no trembling underneath and with a slight pull, the horses slowed to a stop. "This is far enough, Ma'am. I thank you kindly for bringing me here."

"Did I have a choice?"

By the shiver that went down his spine, Jess wondered if the woman had somehow dropped a couple chunks of ice down his shirt. Avoiding her gaze, Jess hopped out of the wagon. There was one difference than how he had climbed aboard. He might have been still holding an iron, but it was her rifle that was snug in his clasp. His own handgun had gone back into his leather seat several miles back.

"Can I go?"

"Yes, Ma'am. And I'm sorry I had to do this. Will you be able to get back, I mean, to wherever you were heading, all right?"

She nodded, as her reply and likely more were held behind her tight lips. The reins given a slap along with the pull to turn, the horses were put back in their original aim. He watched until she disappeared, and then Jess' head slowly angled toward the ground. He was no better than the level that he viewed. He was a lowlife. But if he ever found the man that killed Slim, wouldn't he be the same, or worse?

Jess kicked at a rock near his toe. "If that's what I am, I might as well keep living the part."

Except, he had to do one thing first.

It was getting dark, but Jess could make out the small crosses. All four marks and all four mounds were the same. Thinking he might not know which one belonged to Slim, Jess' heart began to slam hard against his chest, but then he saw the sheriff's star stuck into the center of the first cross. If Gregory was going to do that with one, likely he would do it with the other. His eyes followed each cross and then they slowly closed. It was there at the end. The deputy's star that marked Slim's grave.

Hat in hand, Jess kneeled by its side. "Pard."

His tear-rimmed eyes wandered to the sky. What else could he say? There was so much inside of his heart that an entire book could have been written, but his lips held nothing but trembling. Fist rolling closed and then back open, Jess let the final drop go against his gun. Well, there was something that he could say.

"I promise, Slim." His anger should have made the vow come out like thunder's distinct boom, but his throat was so close to cracking that he expected to see pieces fall to the ground around him like shards of glass if he did more than take another breath.

He nodded, reaffirming the seal that had already been placed over his heart and then stood.

The surroundings were too quiet. Birds being silenced for the night, not even crickets were sounding in the grass. The silence had enough strength built that it had the ability to reach into Jess' throat to pull out a sigh, its noise at release disruptive enough that Jess' shoulders pulled inward to cringe. Slim deserved better than this. He should have had a funeral with every citizen of Laramie and beyond. There should have been flowers, a preacher, someone singing an age-old hymn and not a dry eye anywhere. Yet all he got was this. All Slim had, was Jess.

But if he could look into Slim's soul at that very moment, he would have known that Jess was all that would have been asked for, his presence would have been enough.

The moisture, at least what could be felt on his outside wiped away, Jess stepped into the small house. The lantern that hung by the door tasted the tip of a lit match, and holding it up so that the glow could spread, Jess almost snuffed it out. Blood was everywhere. He couldn't get past the fact that some of it was Slim's. Looking back to the door behind him, Jess figured he should back out, sleep under the sky, and be by Slim's grave. But in all that solemnity surrounding those graves, wouldn't that only keep his eyelids pried open? If he was going to have any kind of stamina in chasing down a killer, he needed his rest. He remained inside.

Wood still stacked in the fireplace, Jess went there first. He would get to slumber's side quicker if the room's chill was chased away. The fire a crackling roar, Jess heated coffee, but he couldn't get more than a half cup in him before he decided to settle.

He felt guilty lying in a dead woman's bed, enough so that he wouldn't pull back the blankets, just lying on the surface, but Jess wouldn't trade the prongs in his flesh for the cot the son must have used. He flipped his pocket-watch over. Seven hours until daybreak, the very hour that Jess would start what might be the last journey of his life.

Jess' lashes lowered long enough to drop to where only dreams existed, but when they flew back open, he couldn't even take a breath.

A gun was pushing into his chin.