Chapter Five

Jess blinked. It was about all he felt safe in doing as another man's breath puffed across his cheek. Something as large as swallowing the lump in his throat could replace the sensation with lead, and a rather fast river of blood that would then seize his soul in death.

Sensing the movement of the man's free hand, Jess didn't flinch when a match was lit, not even following the flame with his eyes when the bedside lamp started to glow. Now that he could see, Jess memorized every detail of the man's face. It wasn't an already known one. Jess knew that as a fact. But the man had the right kind of sizzling in his eyes that Jess figured the man knew him. As his enemy.

Jess slowly took in some air. "What do you want?"

The iron jabbed a bit deeper into his flesh. "No one pulls a gun on my wife and lives to tell about it."

So that was who this was. Once the reality sunk in, Jess' tension eased back a notch with understanding. He would have done the same thing if he caught up with the no-good that dared to threaten his wife, except in his case, the bullet would have already gone into his victim.

"I'm sorry," Jess said, the contrition so real it poured from his eyes. "I didn't want it to happen that way."

"You think apologizing is going to pull this gun back? You scared my wife and kids."

"Well, your wife handled herself quite proper," Jess said, his mind picturing his victim all over again. And the two little kids, but most of what he saw was her stature, unwavering in the presence of an outlaw like him. "Strong woman you've got."

"She is. But just because she has the gall to blow your brains out doesn't mean I don't feel different about what you did. And just so we're clear, the only reason she didn't raise the rifle there at her feet was because of our kids in the back. But I'm glad she didn't, because that leaves the brain-blowing part all up to me."

A couple of drops of sweat wiggled down each cheek, but the rest of Jess' nerves were held inside, like he hoped his blood would stay.

"Look, I know my story ain't gonna change what I've done, but I had to do it. My partner was killed and I've gotta find the man that did it. He died right here in this house. To find his trail I had to get here. And your wife was my only means of doing so because someone stole my horses last night and I was stuck on foot. I reckon all of this has made my guts in such a twist that I ain't acting all that proper. But I just might end up doing worse, because I gotta get that man!"

He stared at Jess, for such a length that a timepiece would have meandered more than one rotation around the dial. And then the gun came out of Jess' flesh. "I understand."

The gasp of surprise might not have been loud, but there was no way Jess could stifle it completely. "You do?"

He nodded. "My brother was murdered and I swore I would bury the man that did it. I searched for a year. Probably would still be searching if I hadn't met Cheryl. I fell in love, left the vow behind, but I never forgot."

Jess caught the man's gaze and held tight. "There ain't anything that's gonna stop me. Ever."

Gun put away, the scowl that had been worn turned into the hint of a smile. "I wish now that I would've started out this way instead. My name's Hal Martin."

Jess had to let his gaze go over Martin head to foot before he could nod his own introduction. "Jess Harper."

"Are you going to get started at dawn?"

"Earlier if I can. But unfortunately it ain't gonna be quick work even if I latch onto tracks at first light."

"You can if you take my horse. No, Harper, don't refuse. I can borrow one from Sam Saks. He lives down the road four or so miles so it won't be a long walk. But you get that man you're after. You get him. For all the brothers that have been lost."

Jess had never expected to shake hands with the man, but here they were, clasped together, the connection rising far enough to share a nod. "I will."

.:.

Morning's light upon the land, Jess stepped out of the house and viewed the mount that could possibly take him all the way to hell's front door. Solid black except for a pair of stockings up front, he definitely had the proper build to carry Jess that far. Touching the nose, Jess let the introduction stretch further as his hand went into the mane. With the horse bobbing his head, Jess gave a nod of his own. He'll do just fine.

Already saddled, all Jess needed to do was put one foot in the stirrup and attach his backside to leather, but before he could leave, Jess had to make another stop at Slim's grave.

Hat in hands, Jess stood still, his head lowering until the only thing beyond his vision was where Slim lay. Just like in the dim light of dusk, he couldn't express everything he felt inside, but he wished he could take even a small amount of words to come out of his throat. A large part of his being had to wonder if he would he ever make it back here. Could he really walk away without saying a last goodbye?

Sniffing, Jess looked around him. There alone, no one would hear him, no one would turn his way, but Jess had to release the word from his throat, the one he never wanted to say, the one he hated over all the rest. "Goodbye, Pard."

And then with a forceful tap, his hat returned to his head as his boots stepped away from the four small crosses, of the one that meant the most.

Walking a full perimeter twice, all of the tracks Jess saw belonged to Sheriff Gregory, Martin and himself. Whoever had left the bloodstains inside of the house had done a good job at wiping them free. That, weather and time. It might be a setback, but it certainly wasn't going to deter him. Getting into the saddle, Jess rode to the only other place there could be a beginning line. Billings. Although he bypassed the town, going straight to the Avery ranch where the man was met outside of his barn.

"I'm Jess Harper, Slim Sherman's partner." More followed, but the story that brought Jess this far came quickly out of his lips. It was the only way to keep the back of his throat from changing every word into a gasp of pain.

Avery nodded through his entire explanation, able to tell by the hungry look in Jess' eyes the reason why he was here. He wanted revenge. "Sorry to hear about Slim. I wish I could tell you something that'll give you some help, but I don't."

He had expected a negative answer, but that didn't mean Jess couldn't barge forward on his own. "He didn't act skittish, like somebody mighta been on his tail?"

"No."

"Did he say any names to you that were unfamiliar?"

"No."

"Did he say anything about me?"

That made the eyebrows rise. "Well, knowing that I'd never met you before, he talked highly of you. The only thing I thought unusual was that Slim mentioned that you could outdraw him."

Jess' left hand worked the knuckles of his right until they crunched underneath his grip. "I can outdraw most anybody. What makes that unusual?"

Avery's shoulders rose. "I don't know. Just talk, I guess. But maybe…"

"Maybe what?" Jess pressed, leaning forward.

"Maybe he could feel trouble was coming. Maybe somewhere inside of him he knew your expertise was going to be needed. Maybe he just wanted to pass it along. Maybe he needed one more man to know your name. But will the message get to the one intended?"

"It will."

"You seem mighty determined when all you've ridden on is a couple of dead ends."

"I don't care how far I gotta go. There's an outlaw somewhere that thinks he's gone clear of some killings. But he ain't. He's running all right, but what he's running from is me."

"And you'll catch up?"

Jess nodded. Long-shot or not, he was going to reach the point where it would be fired. "You bet I'll catch up."

Avery couldn't help but stare, the admiration noticed. "You know, Harper, now I see why Slim talked about you like he did. You really were close. I don't think anyone would go to that sort of lengths for me."

"I called him a partner, but Slim was like a brother to me. I owe him this, but in truth, I owe him much more than I can give." His breath heavy enough to bring the moisture back to his eyes, the only thing to prevent them from turning into drops was Jess putting his mission directly in front of him. "I don't suppose you know which trail Slim went out on?"

"I was too busy tending to those yearlings he brought when he rode out. But I'd imagine he would've taken the same one you came in on."

Jess frowned. He should have just started with that question, as everything else that came off of Avery's tongue had no meaning in his hunt. Except for the part that still piqued his interest, when Slim boasted about Jess' gun. It made Jess' skin crawl to think that Slim might have had a foreboding tick that Jess' draw was going to be needed. But even if it was an unrelated coincidence, Jess raised his eyes toward heaven. He wouldn't let his partner down.

Avery sent him onward with a wave. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Jess said, hoping that the other man involved wouldn't have a single stroke of it.

After Avery's was a mile behind him, Jess sat still in the saddle. Not having a solid direction to turn stuck in his craw so tightly that it could compete with the anger and grief that strangled him. There had been nothing at the woman's house, the same at Avery's. Jess could have said that he had run out of options. But he still had one thing going for him. He had his wits, and as they tapped into the roots of an outlaw, they were a lot finer tuned than the average do-gooder. All he had to do was put one thing inside his palm and he could do more than squeeze. Jess lowered his head to think.

Perhaps the most important piece of this mystery was that Slim had been deputized. Since he wasn't wearing a star at Avery's and he was wearing one at the time of his death at Whitman's, then somewhere in between it was pinned on. But why attach the badge to Slim's vest in the first place?

There had to have been an obvious need. Now the unnamed outlaw seemed to have a bull's-eye over his face for an entirely different reason. Was the sheriff closing in and needed a hand with the arrest? Maybe, but then again, if he thought he was going to need a second man by his side, why not pick out a volunteer in Eagle Point before riding out?

Jess fingered his gun, the final tap landing hard against the handle as the new thought made his temples flare. The sheriff could have been hurt. That was the only reason why a lawman that didn't know Slim would have trusted him with a deputy's star. It seemed like a far stretch to find the place where the prongs were inserted, but Slim wasn't prone to back-trailing like Jess normally traveled. That could have easily put Slim's connection with Sheriff Ratcliff somewhere on the main road. Somewhere on the very path that his borrowed horse stood upon.

The heat in his belly churning with renewed fervor, Jess commanded the mount's pace to match his internal boil. Miles were eliminated over terrain that were becoming as familiar as his own backyard, not finding a mark to slow him, not finding a reason to quit. But then Jess crossed a bridge. Just the sight of water made his mouth yearn for a taste, making his hands pull up on the reins.

The canteen up to his lips, Jess took in a lengthy swallow. At the cap's replacement, Jess gave the liquid a shake. Although not empty, he knew his canteen could use a refreshing before he carried on. And as Jess knew the horse wouldn't argue, he led the animal toward the stream. The horse only got halfway to the drink when Jess pulled hard on the reins. Underneath the hooves was a spur trail.

Leaping to the ground, Jess touched the double lines. They were far from perfection, as the indents were lost where rocks and clumps of grass stood in the way, but Jess' fingertips continued to follow up the slope. At the top his pulse began to tingle. The blood his hand was now upon had been a part of the earth long enough that it didn't have the same vibrant hue, but Jess had seen enough carnage to know the spilling of a man's life when he found it.

Slowly looking up, Jess clenched his fist over the stain. This was where Slim had met Sheriff Ratcliff.

Jess' head quickly whipped behind him to see a particularly shaped hill where four crosses stood at its base, as did the woman's house, less than three miles away. "Slim took Ratcliff there for help. I'd bet anything on it."

Even if Jess could convince himself that he hadn't missed a thing, he still had to go back there.

.:.

How many times was Jess going to have to stand over Slim's grave with nothing but tears marring his vision? Knowing what else was inside of him, it could also have been the cloud of anger, but at the moment, Jess was pinching off the mist. He would have rather made his return to deliver the message that it was finished, that Slim's death had been avenged. But Jess wasn't at that point in time yet. Considering he couldn't find a single hoof-print that would have indicated his previous bet was sure-fire, he was beginning to wonder if he would ever get the chance to tell Slim that final line.

There was no doubt this time. Anger was pumping steam into his eyes, too.

His boots thumping the ground was one part, while the rest of his fury poured off of his breath. "Come on, come on, there's gotta be something here!"

He swung back toward the crosses. Despite the doubts that had penetrated into Jess' core, Slim had to have ridden in. He knew it. But there were a couple of things he couldn't figure out, and the mystery wasn't mingling well with his fury.

Jess' hands slowly clenched and returned to a wide splay, the right hovering over his iron as he eyed the deputy's star. "Was he here waiting for you?"

He shook his head. The blood was inside, not out. If Jess was wearing evil's cloak and being closed in on, he would have gunned down the badges at first sight, not waiting for the fanfare that would have ensued if the law caught scent of a wanted man. There was no way that Jess could know if the killer had the same thoughts, but it was something to focus on.

Another step went toward Slim's grave. "If the killer wasn't right here when you came in, then where was he?" A chill down his spine, Jess looked over his shoulder to the darkened tree line. "Watching."

Even if there was a rifle trained on Slim during his ride in with Ratcliff, the killer still waited until they were inside the house to put several bullets in their flesh. Or did he? As long as Jess' thoughts were running close enough to the truth, Ratcliff was the one that needed help, and with a woman at the house, she would be the one to tend to his wounds. Not Slim. And where would that put Slim?

Jess' hand rubbed his jaw, even as the clenching continued underneath. Unless it was closing in on nightfall, he wouldn't have stayed. An invite for a meal was not all that likely, as the concern would have been centered on the injured man, not on an empty belly. Again the prominence of Slim's badge worked through Jess' skull. Being deputized meant that Slim had a job to do, and his only duty after getting the sheriff to safety was going after the man that had downed him.

Slim had ridden in and likely went back out within the same hour.

Jess hurried to his ride. This time he didn't need a marked trail to follow, he just needed the kind of gut instincts that had been trained on both sides of the law. Add in his raw determination and Jess couldn't miss what was lying somewhere ahead of him.

An hour into his quest, he came across a creek. By the way it meandered, disappearing and then splashing over a couple of rocks before hiding around another bend, Jess recognized it as the type that needed following. Campsites could go unnoticed in a place like this, especially if there was a man that wanted to be hidden.

Or perhaps a man with two more by his side.

Jess suddenly stopped on the edge of a clear sign. Horses, at least three of them had been tied there. The moist ground not far from the water's edge showed the hooves, but the other telling mark was the tree the line had been attached to. Every leaf within a horse's reach had been stripped bare. The animals had been tied, all right, and not just for a couple of minutes.

He finally was on to something outside of his mind. Encouraging the horse ahead with slow steps, Jess' eyes went over the ground at the same pace. At first his body's reaction was to tense with dread that he would find nothing beyond that point, as the road appeared as clean as all of the others. But then he saw where a boot heel had dug into the soil. And then there was another.

His leap out of the saddle matched the jumping of his core.

The men that had done the road-sweeping in all of the other places missed this stretch. Either they didn't think a pursuant would get this far or they wanted it to be seen. Jess didn't dwell on that fact for long. The only important thing was that they were there.

Kneeling next to the most visible print, he traced every line with his fingertips. The tracks weren't fresh, but because of the pressure against the soil, the wind couldn't drive them away. But it would have been impossible for a man to make such a trail by himself. He would have needed assistance, yet not a friendly kind of aid. This was done by force.

Jess nearly crawled over the ground to find another print. When his palm attached to a deeper indent, the truth became just as clear. Someone had been drug over the ground. Someone that hadn't gone willingly. Someone like Slim.

Now the picture was so real, Jess could see it all, complete with his partner's final fall.

Air slowly eased into Jess' lungs but then came out in a cyclonic gust. Slim didn't die at the Whitman's. He might have been found there, but he didn't die there. That insidious place was reserved for somewhere ahead of him.

The trail narrowing, Jess left the horse behind him to continue on foot. His boots remained soft, even while his pace increased, for his motivation to get there, and get the man responsible, forced his legs into a sprint. Yet Jess would never ignore his instincts. He felt the warning tap against his brain before the next bend could be turned. He had to take the last stretch slow and steady, slow and ready.

Stopping made Jess' lungs work less hard, yet his chest still heaved. His breaths, perhaps, but anger couldn't be tamed. He didn't want that part of him to quiet. Jess wanted the fury to take over his entire body because he wanted a man to die. No, the desire had already expanded to a need, for the man had to die by Jess' hand. Jail wouldn't be good enough. A hangman's noose wouldn't be good enough. Only Jess' hand, drawing and then firing would suffice. In this thought Jess realized that vengeance had taken over his entire frame. At this very moment, it was in the blood that pumped from his heart, in the air that he breathed and released.

Good. Jess' brain whirred like the emotions inside of him. What is it that the preacher's like to say? 'Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.' Sorry, God. I ain't trying to be you, but in this case, vengeance belongs to me. And I'll be dad-gummed if I'm gonna let another take a piece of it.

Jess looked to the sky to make sure a lightning bolt wasn't going to come at him. It would have to be straight out of the blue to do so, but he had heard of other mysterious phenomenon that could have only come from heaven. And right now he was a great enough sinner to arouse some fire and brimstone.

He tried to see deeper into the heavens. "Only save some of that for the man I'm after."

Except he would never try to fool the Almighty with a lie. God obviously knew, but all of nature could also see that Jess wanted the revenge all for himself. And the man. He would know. Jess would make sure of it before he pulled the trigger if he had to cram both the bullet and Slim's name down the man's throat.

The corner ready to be rounded, Jess' boots started again over the faint line that had belonged to Slim. His tongue resting on his lips, he could taste what would be on its other side. His skin reacting as if he were walking among winter's chill, he could feel death looming near. His hand inching closer to his iron, he believed the sound of its firing would be on his next breath.

And then Jess stopped. There it was in front of him.

He was looking at a house, so closely concealed by a hillside its face was a perfect blend with the rocks around it. No ordinary homesteader would put walls up like this. But a man needing a good hideout would find it ideal. Jess didn't have to look for any other tracks that would indicate that he had come to the end of Slim's line. He knew he was at the right place just by the way his grief and anger suddenly collided.

He could have called out, could have even knocked, but his only warning was going to be his outburst. Kicking the door wide, Jess' breath caught into his lungs as the man in the room spun to face him. Jess' eyes flashed with fire, but in the midst of the crackling flames was a tinge of disappointment. Although wearing it on his hip, the man didn't go for his gun.

That'll come. Jess' thought ground so loudly through his head he wondered if it had jumped into his jaw and rushed out of his clenched teeth.

At least with no instant trigger-pull he would get the opportunity to scrutinize what was in front of him, and then some. The man's tongue stilled by Jess' ominous presence, he didn't offer his name, but Jess already knew it by heart. No, he had no title, no face that went with a wanted poster, and nothing from Jess' past. But Jess knew who he was, all right. His name was Slim's Killer, and he was about to have that very title etched into his tombstone.

He wasn't much older than Jess, with dark hair, a day's growth attached to his cheeks and chin with an even darker line above his lip. His eyes were deeper than what covered his head, but it was those very eyes that were the giveaway. They held fear.

Jess almost laughed. He was glad that the man feared him.

The eyes glittered at him. "Who are you?"

"Jess Harper," he answered, watching the man's jaw jump. So he had heard of him. The nice surprise made Jess' internal laughter tickle the corner of his mouth to raise it up a notch. "I reckon you've been waiting for me."

"I don't watch outside my door for anyone," he said, the gruff tone sounding faked.

"You do when you kill someone close to me," Jess answered, his gravely tone as real as it had ever been.

His tongue seemed to stumble over itself. "Who… who's that?"

"You killed my partner, Slim Sherman."

Standing atop Mount Incense, the man's silence was almost enough to put a bullet through his skull. Jess' desire to kill was strong, but he didn't want to commit murder. Or at least that's what Jess told himself as his fingers flamed over the top of his iron.

"Maybe you remember him better because he was wearing a deputy's badge." Crickets would have been louder than the sound in the room until Jess exploded. "Still playing dumb, huh?"

The force across from him made his lips part. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Being aloof, that was common practice for an outlaw, but Jess should have registered that this kind of stammering didn't belong on a killer. But he was too angry to allow that detail to register inside of his brain.

A bull would have been proud of Jess' forward charge. "You do!"

"I don't!"

"What do you want me to do, drag you from place to place on this trail I've been following to prove that I know? Huh, you don't? Well I don't wanna either. That'd take too long, and all I wanna do is put a bullet through that slimy face of yours. So Mr. Killer, you better draw."

The man slowly lifted his arms, his hand nowhere near hovering close to his loaded holster. "No."

"Draw!" Jess' scream didn't just shake the walls, but rocked the mountainside. "You want me to shoot you down cold? I could you know. I'm already a breath away, so why don't you help me out some? Draw!"

It was as if the man wanted to reply, offering a challenge with his words, but nothing could get past the stutter. He was scared of Jess. Too scared. A killer should have been locking eyes with him, almost relishing the thought of going up against a reputation like Jess wore. This man was different, blinking rapidly, licking his lips, and brows getting drenched in sweat. But it was as if Jess couldn't see any of this.

Oh, he heard the warning bells, felt the tapping against his skin, all right, but Jess wasn't going to listen to any of it. He refused to listen to anything that would make him take a step away from the man that killed Slim. He refused to believe anything other than what was roaring inside of his head. And Jess was being told rather loudly that he had to gun him down. He had to do this for Slim!

And Jess was done waiting.

"Draw!" Jess took another step, and if he was allowed one more, he would be close enough to bellow down his throat.

Fear reaching its point of no return, the man's quivering hand lowered, touching the handle of his gun. That was all Jess needed and the bullet left Jess' gun. While the blast's echo dimmed, he heard a creaking board from above. His eyes went up and Jess desperately wanted to pull the piece of lead back inside his iron.

He was bound and gagged, but the blue was able to attach.

The gun in his hand slowly lowered at the same moment two straggling breaths were taken. The bloodied man on the floor, as it would be his last, but it was Jess' that was hitched with shock.

"Slim."