Chapter Nine

Slim ran the distance to where Andy had been hidden, the marks in the snow all the horrible proof that he needed to know that his words to Jess had been true. Cross had Andy. The tracks were clear to see, the size of a man's and Andy's smaller boot prints, with one directly in front of the other. Slim hurried over the trodden path, his pulse pounding hard in his chest, holding out to a small shred of hope that the footprints would lead to the man and boy, with a plea, bargain or offer ready to be given for his release. But there would be none. The tracks abruptly stopped on the other side of the ridge, with a single horse's prints taking their place.

"Cross!" Slim's shout reverberated off of the rocks, the sharp return smacking him harder in the face than the sound had entered his ears. There would be no reply. Not because Cross would have never offered one, but because they were too far gone. Andy was gone.

Jess stood by Slim's side, his own trek through the snow taken in equaled pace with his partner, including the heightened rage. He should have known. When he last looked at Cross, his supposedly unconscious face still looked too smug to trust to be down deep in darkness. He felt the searing pain flare as his fists balled together at his sides, the broken skin of his knuckles the stark reminder of his fight with Janz, but also in the single punch that Jess had pounded into Cross. If only the opportunity could arise once more, Jess would do more to the man than just use his fists on him, and it could, but not while he was standing there doing nothing. The only thing that stopped Jess from plunging ahead on the downward trail was that Jonesy and Mort had caught up with them, Jonesy's mouth at work showing that a conversation had begun. Jess remained at Slim's side, even though he couldn't hear it.

"He needs Andy alive, Slim," Jonesy said, following with his eyes the tracks that Cross' horse made in his hasty escape with Andy. He tried to offer a note of encouragement in his voice, but it only came out in a shivering mass of fear.

"Alive doesn't mean not hurting," Slim thrust his left thumb at his shoulder. "I've got this and I'm still alive. Look at Jess, he can't hear anything, not to mention his broken ribs and his skin nearly being burned all the way through and he's still alive. I don't want to think what he'll do to that boy to get him to sign the title of the ranch over to Cross' name. He's running out of options, and I don't have to remind you how ruthless that man is."

"We'll get to him," Mort said, his eyes coming away from the tracks to rest on the hardened lines on Slim's face, "but we can't do it on foot."

"I'll run, walk, crawl, or anything else if I have to," Slim spoke with a rare vengeance firing in his throat, "but I'm going after Cross. Right now."

"We all will," Mort said, placing a grip on Slim's arm, knowing that if he released it, Slim's speech would turn into reality. But a downhill march wouldn't get the worried brother very far, even if he was treading on his own personal storm cloud. "But we've got to use our heads first."

"What use is my head when it's what's in my heart that matters? That's my little brother, Mort," Slim said, pulling his arm out of Mort's grasp, and as he did so, his hand brushed his shirt to hover near his chest, the frantic beating felt under his palm. "I'm going."

"There are eight of us here and only five horses," Mort said, knowing the importance of catching up to Cross, but also knowing the practicality of what was in front of them. He didn't always like to have to think like a lawman, especially in something as important as Andy's capture, but because of the high level of importance, it was all the more necessary to not go forward in a vengeful haste. "I know a few of us could double up, but it's already slow going in the snow."

"I don't care, Mort," Slim turned his head sharply to glare at the lawman. "And you better not try to stop me, or I just might forget you're wearing a badge."

Jess watched the silent exchange between Slim and Mort, catching a few words formed on Slim's mouth, but he wouldn't have needed a single one to understand its meaning. He felt the same rush of fury, the emotions inside of his chest battling between heated revenge and unbearable fear. There could be no delay in getting on Cross' trail. Too much time had already passed. He could see that Slim was ready to go, on foot if necessary, and Jess wasn't going to let him take one step without him. This was about Andy. That was enough to go on.

"You ain't leaving me out," Jess said, reaching out to grab Slim's arm, turning him around so that both partner's faced each other, their eyes instantly locking together. "Wherever you go, I'm going too. And I ain't gonna wait."

"All right," Mort conceded with a sigh. "We'll split. You and Jess take the two outlaw's horses, I'll take Jonesy with me and we'll find Janz' cabin. If the wagon isn't there, I'll leave the Judge and Mose to guard the prisoners while Jonesy and I continue."

"Let's go, Jess," Slim said, motioning with his hand for Jess to go with him and as they began, Jess touched the gun at his belt line. Up until now, they could only face Cross with their hands, limited to what they could use as fists, but that was no longer. Slim and Jess were armed. And one could say that the two men were quite dangerous.

"And boys," Mort said, his voice holding onto every note of a dutiful lawman, "don't get so far ahead that I have more than one man to arrest down there."

There was no response. Jess could offer none because he hadn't known what was spoken, but Slim knew, and together, they would make no promises.

…

Andy sat in front of Cross, the suited arm clasped securely around his middle to keep him from falling from the horse that had been steadily plodding downhill in the snow. The direction in which they rode was a mystery, Andy's only awareness was that he was being taken farther away from Slim, Jess and Jonesy. He hadn't been expecting anyone to sneak up behind him where he had remained hidden alone in the rocks. Andy had been so absorbed in watching the scene take place between Jess and Janz that he didn't hear the footsteps approach, and when he did, it was too late. The end of Cross' gun pointed in Andy's back, and then a hand with blood streaked across its knuckles covered his mouth. He could do nothing but obey, as the fear and shock silenced his cough so that no one was alerted to his removal.

Andy felt terrible, the sickness that invaded his body resided mostly in his nose and throat, creating uncontrollable urges to cough, sneeze and shiver. He was afraid, but he was also fevered. There wasn't so much heat from his forehead that his mind wasn't in full control, but enough to prompt quivering chills to pulse throughout his body. Andy wished that he could turn off his shuddering frame, even if it was caused by two different sources, but because one of them was fear, Andy didn't want Cross to know that it was there. He hadn't forgotten Jess' words, how a man could have fear without showing it, and he knew now that he was separated from his family, it was more important to have his inner strength be on display instead of the fright.

A slight gasp sounded near Andy's ear as Cross shifted in the saddle, and Andy turned his head to try to catch a glimpse of him. Andy might have been stuck in an illness, but if it was any consolation, Cross wasn't in the best shape either. Slim had given Cross a decent beating, and knowing the power that was in Jess' fist, the single blow that had come from his hand had its own scathing mark. The blood hadn't crusted over yet near his nose, as a steady drip still trickled down near his chin. His breaths came short and sharp, an indicator of pain, maybe from something being banged up on his inside. If Andy had been stronger, a plan of escape might have developed into action, but for now, all he could do was wait for Slim and Jess. He knew they would be coming. They wouldn't leave him to suffer in Cross' clutch. Not ever.

"Stop sniveling, kid," Cross said, squeezing Andy's middle tighter as if the jolt of pain would make his nose stop running.

"I ain't crying," Andy said, his voice holding onto a hint of quivering, but too full of sickness in his throat to not take on some Jess Harper grit. Andy might not have spoken aloud his desires to be like Jess as often as it had come from his lips when Jess had first drifted into their lives, but the wish was still there. During times of solitude, Andy had often pretended that he was the gunslinger turned cowboy, complete with the gravel filled voice to go with it. He'd practiced, challenging his youthful voice to grow deeper, but never having an opportunity to use it in front of another person until now. Andy wasn't certain that he was close to perfecting it, but the thickness in his throat added the necessary flair, and since it was there, Andy planned on using it in full force. "I'm sick."

"So it seems," Cross wrinkled his nose with repugnance at Andy's continued sniffling. "At least use a handkerchief, not my arm."

"Then get your arm away from me," Andy replied, trying to push against the tight hold.

"I can't do that," Cross said, trying to not grimace when Andy's cough ended in a gag. "Sick or not, you might have other ideas. And I can't let you get away, not now. Not when I'm this close to having it all."

"What do you want me for, anyway?" Andy couldn't help but squirm, even though he knew getting loose was impossible. "You're not going to get the ranch from me."

"I don't have to," Cross said, the smug smile returning to his bruised cheeks. "Now that I have you, big brother's going to give it to me. I know just as well as you that he's following us."

"Why?" Andy shook his head. "We don't have anything. Slim barely makes ends meet each month. We all work our tails off just to get to the end of one day, only to start it all over again the next. What makes you think you'll do any better?"

"I don't have to work the ranch to rake in the dough," Cross answered, his eyes taking on a faraway expression, as if he could already see the money being placed in his hands. "It's going to be given to me, in full."

"I don't get it."

"You don't have to get it," Cross said, the irritation in his voice bursting his dream-like bubble, "but just so you'll stop nagging me, I'll fill you in on it. After all, you might as well know, since you're going to be a part of it. Remember, I already asked if you thought I'd make a good big brother."

"If you really want to know the answer to that," Andy dug deep for Jess' tones, the snap being produced by fire. "Never."

"Quit trying to be like Harper, kid," Cross said, and Andy couldn't help but flinch, the jumping of his muscles both in anger and pleasure. At least he knew he had been successful in his imitation of Jess. "Just shut up and listen. My uncle is planning on giving me a wealthy inheritance, as long as I'm a ranch owner. I picked yours because it doesn't have any frills and lace. And you, my dear boy, will be the icing on that plain cake. My uncle will melt when he sees how I've taken in an orphan. The money will be in my hands before he dies. But make no mistake, my uncle is going to die, along with anyone else who gets in my way."

"You'll never get away with it," Andy said, pausing as his body was wracked with coughs, the sharp intakes of cold air making the irritation in his throat even worse. He was going to keep up the Jess-like gravel no matter what Cross had told him, but his voice just might completely give out on him first. "The stage driver's coming in every day will know something's not right. They'll tell the sheriff. And so will I."

"You honestly think I'll keep the contract with the stage line?" Cross gave a short chuckle before he continued. "That's one of the first things I plan on getting rid of when the ranch is mine. I won't need the money. I'm going to be rich. And in case you still have any hope in the lawman in Laramie, you should know that he was the first to fall from his horse the other day when Snake took on the posse. I'm sure you remember all that gunfire."

He did. And if Andy would have known that one of those shots had targeted Mort Cory, he would have mourned for him as the shots were blasting. But now, there was such an intense grief filling Andy's soul, from multiple lives lost or harmed, from being in Cross' clutch, and from the deep dread that was his future, he couldn't even shed a tear.

"Oh and your threat?" Cross gave Andy's middle an extra squeeze as he lowered his mouth to Andy's ear. "Don't bother. Unless you're interested in burying everyone you care for, you'll behave."

Andy shut his eyes and dropped his head against his chest, trying to pull away from Cross' harsh remarks. He meant them. There was no doubt in Andy's mind. He'd already seen what the wicked man was capable of, and Andy would keep his mouth shut if it meant that those around him wouldn't have to suffer under Cross' wrath. Andy sighed, keeping his eyes closed, and the longer his lashes were lowered, the rhythm of the horse and exhaustion started to take its toll as his body drifted into a restless sleep. He didn't know how long he stayed in slumber, but Andy was jerked awake when Cross reached for his gun, the hold around his waist starting to loosen as he checked to make sure it was fully loaded.

"What're you doing?" Andy asked, staring at the gun in Cross' hand. He didn't think that Slim or Jess could have caught up with them by now, but Andy wasn't as trained in directions as they were, especially on a monotonous gray day. He listened intently, unsure if there was more than just the sound of the horse's hooves underneath him sinking into the snow, but one thing was certain, Cross wasn't preparing his gun to snag a rabbit for dinner.

"Someone's coming," Cross said, raising the gun to peer down its sights. "And just in case that someone's not on my side, I've got a bullet ready for him. And he's right… around… the corner…"

Andy held his breath, waiting for the rider to come into view, wanting to call out a warning to the unsuspecting person around the corner. Even if it wasn't Slim or Jess, if it was anyone that could potentially put a wrinkle in Cross' plans, Andy feared that he was about to witness a murder take place. Cross pulled the horse to a stop, the approaching rider so close that Andy could hear the breaths of the mount, and as Slim's name started forming on his lips, he squeezed his eyes shut, but it was another name that was spoken first.

"Rex."

Andy's eyelids flew wide open, staring at the one that Slim had called Cross' right hand man. His arm was in a sling, but it appeared by the gloating expression on his face that he was no longer out of commission. Coming down from the mountain, leaving Slim and Jess behind, Andy held onto the faith that once they caught up, all that they had to face was one, and one could easily be defeated by two. But now things had just changed all over again. The dread settled in his middle, making Andy feel sick in more than one way.

"The plan still on?" Rex asked, the crinkling around his eyes as he looked at Andy nothing friendly, but far too sinister.

"Yes," Cross nodded, sharing a similar expression as his partner, "and now that you're here, it can continue more smoothly than before."

"Where are we going?" Rex asked, turning his horse to be in step with Cross'.

"The Sherman ranch," Cross replied, urging his mount forward, "or should I say, the Cross ranch. It's as good as mine. All mine."

They continued onward, the elevation underneath them no longer high enough to support snow, but the mud was still present, as every flake falling above fell as rain below. They stayed this way for an hour, maybe time stretched out a little longer, but as the terrain became more familiar, Andy was more aware of their location. When Cross' hand pulled his mount to a stop, it was likely evident that he knew the same. They had just reached the northern edge of the Sherman ranch.

"We're almost there," Cross smiled, but quickly lost the expression as he turned around in the saddle. There was no one in sight, but if the hairs on the back of his neck could be trusted, Sherman and Harper were gaining ground. "Rex, let's divide and conquer. You take the left trail up into those rocks and wait, and when either Sherman or Harper starts to follow, keep them there, with a bullet if you have to, but just do it."

"I will, C.C.," Rex tapped the butt of his rifle and then brought his hand up to settle on his injured arm. "But I sure hope it's Harper that comes to me first."

…

"Hold up, Slim," Jess held up his hand as he pulled his mount to a halt.

"Another set of tracks?" Slim asked as Jess dropped out of the saddle to examine additional marks in the soft ground.

"Who do you reckon?" Jess asked, looking up at Slim, who could offer him nothing more than a shrug. "Another prisoner or another comrade?"

"He would've left anyone not on his side right here," Slim gestured his words with his hands, hoping that Jess could understand. "I hate to admit it, but it looks like Cross has another one of his friend's with him."

"Rex," Jess said the name with cold clarity. "Let's get back at it."

"You're probably right," Slim said, although Jess was back in the saddle, no longer looking his way, unable to discern the words coming from his mouth.

They continued forward side by side, their horse's prints nearly filling the ones in front of them step by step. The ground underneath them soon changed from a slushy white to a squishy brown, as the land drew them closer and closer to Sherman property and the outlaws they were seeking. But they wouldn't be going all the way there together. Slim and Jess came to a stop as suddenly there were two different directions in front of them to turn.

"We better split," Slim made a veering motion with his hands. "I'll take the main trail to the house, you go on to the left. If you run into Cross first, don't take him on yourself."

"Remember, Slim," Jess stared ahead to the pathway that now belonged to him. "I can't hear you."

Jess didn't need the spoken words to know what Slim had said. But even if he had, Jess' reply would have had the same meaning. They had been steadily catching up, as the trail that he was on now was barely even an hour old. If he found Cross at its end, there wouldn't be anything stopping him from taking him on. Alone.

Since losing his hearing, Jess had relied more on his eyes and natural instinct, and they were high at work as he kept his horse in a cautiously moving pace. At every turn he slowed, gun in hand, trying to gauge what was behind the bend before he reached it, but unless the internal warning started sounding, Jess wouldn't fully stop. He was on Sherman land, its familiarity as sharp as his accuracy with his gun, knowing that the rocks ahead were perfect for ambush. The next bend in sight, Jess' backbone began to tingle, the muscles in his middle tightened and his temple began to throb. His next step would be critical. Jess drew air into his lungs and held it, inching the horse slowly forward, for the path would soon open up, and now it was all up to his vision.

It would only take a moment before Jess saw him. Rex. He stood on a perch, leaning against a rock, a rifle held in his hands, waiting for Jess' unsuspecting approach, likely holding orders to kill him on sight. But Jess wasn't going to let him get that far. Jess could have dismounted, angling around the man's other side to catch him off guard, but Rex didn't have Andy. Jess turned the horse, leading the animal to the shortest route to the ranch house, because he wanted the man that did.

But before Jess disappeared out of the waiting man's view, Rex spotted Jess' retreating frame. He would need to be repositioned to get an accurate shot, but with Cross' orders resounding in his head and the pain in his arm reverberating that Harper was the reason he wore a sling, Rex was determined to find one. He mounted his horse, searching for the perfect place and when he knew Harper's path would intertwine with his, he took his stand. The last thing Rex needed to do was prepare the rifle for the perfect opportunity and the sharp sound disturbing the air indicated that he did.

…

Cross' arm no longer in a grip around his waist, Andy slid out of the saddle, his eyes going over every familiar piece of his home. The ranch didn't look any different than when he was forcibly taken from it, yet there was a strange atmosphere pouring from every inch of its space. Andy could have attributed the sudden change to the ongoing trauma, the absence of his family's comforting presences, and the vile outlaw next to him, but it was something digging much deeper. The ranch was his home, bearing the Sherman name, built by his father and brother, but in one instant, because of a crazy man's lust for wealth, it could all be gone. But that wouldn't be where all this would end. The ranch was only a part of what Andy could lose. Slim, Jess, Jonesy. Andy didn't even want to think what else, but it would all be gone.

Following Cross' lead, Andy walked toward the barn, his steps feeling even heavier than the mud that attached to his boots with every footfall. He paused slightly in the doorway, but Cross pushed him farther inside, as the man led his horse to the nearest stall. It felt like an eternity since Andy had cleaned it out, right before a half-breed had grabbed him, and everything that happened between then and now was because Cross wanted their ranch, to lie to an uncle for money. A filthy lie from a filthy life.

Andy stepped aside, keeping his eye on Cross, who for the first time since Andy had been taken, wasn't watching him as the man went through the motions to care for his exhausted horse. Andy wasn't going to ask him any questions, but he did wonder where Cross had originally come from. He didn't dress like a man of the west, but considering his malicious mind, he could have easily been schooled with some of the worst outlaws that ever called this part of the country home. And now he literally wanted to make it home. Cross must have studied other local ranches, picking out the Sherman one specifically, by his own admission, because it had no frills and lace, but did he know every detail? Inside as well as out? Andy shifted his eyes away from Cross, his vision beginning to wander around the barn, pausing at the cabinet on the far wall, its contents hidden, but inside of his mind, Andy could see every one of them. A handgun, a rifle, and a derringer. All of them loaded.

Andy took a deep breath at the same moment that he took a step, and as a voice from behind didn't stop him, Andy took another, and another, until his hand was within reaching distance. He gave Cross only an angled glance, satisfied that the man's eyes weren't upon him, and Andy silently opened the cabinet, the choice needing to be quickly made, and he could hide only one of them. Andy gripped the derringer in his hand, the shape of the weapon searing into his palm like it had been warmed by fire. He could use it, if the situation merited it, but at the moment, all he wanted to do was hold it.

Closing the cabinet, Andy took a backward step, his toe rustling a loose clump of hay and just as Cross turned sharply in his direction, Andy slid the gun into his coat pocket, grateful that one of the handkerchiefs for his nose was wadded in the bottom. Completing his ruse, Andy pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket and stuck his nose in its center, the exaggerated blow unnecessary as there was plenty inside to be removed, but the added emphasis was enough to make Cross repulsed. It made any question marks that had settled over his head at what Andy was doing in the corner become quickly forgotten.

"Come on, kid," Cross motioned with his hand, "let's go to the house."

He had rubbed a wound open on his cheek, the fresh blood along with the rest of his cuts and bruises in need of washing, but that wasn't the only reason backing Cross' decision to leave the barn. He was getting anxious. Too much time had ticked by. They couldn't have been too far behind him on the trail, and if Harper and Sherman had split up like he had figured they would have done where Cross and Rex had separated, then there should have been contact made by now. And there hadn't been a single gunshot. If Cross had a made a mistake in his assumptions, then he was about to have two angry, yet overly willing men to face. But as it would turn out, there would be only one. Exiting the barn, the walk to the house was only halfway completed when a rider raced toward them. Sherman. And he was armed. The handgun was clearly visible as Slim dismounted, his boots stilling in the mud as Cross pulled Andy against his chest.

"Slim!" Andy cried, trying to rush forward, but Cross' tight grip held him in place. He gasped when the iron was whipped out of Cross' jacket and pressed into his temple, cocked and readied to be fired in a single second.

"Drop it, Sherman," Cross shouted, somehow the earth seeming to tremble in reaction to the menacing tone of his voice, but perhaps it was just that Slim's legs had started to shake. "Now!"

He had no other choice. Slim's breath was held in his lungs as he released his weapon, and the same moment that it hit the ground, Andy's eyes closed with a touch of relief. Yet the gun in Cross' hand didn't change positions, because he wasn't done making his threats. Slim knew what would come next, and with a gun pressing into his brother's head, it would be nearly impossible to not scribble his name on a piece of paper, signing the ranch over to Cross right then and there. If only he and Jess had never parted. Slim gave one look away from Cross' wild eyes, searching the perceptible distance for Jess, but he was nowhere in sight. And yet, if Slim had anything on his side, it was time, even if only a sliver of it, because Jess was out there, only Slim didn't know how near or far away.

If Slim could just keep him talking there was a chance. Jess had to be coming. He would have known by now that his trail hadn't belonged to Cross, and Jess would never follow another man's, because like Slim, Jess only wanted the man who threatened Andy. He had to give Jess the time. He had to keep Cross talking. Slim ran the thoughts over and over in his head, his stance held steadied by courage, but also held by faith in his partner.

"Can't we work this out some other way?" Slim asked, keeping his gaze locked with Cross. "You don't need to kill any of us to get the money from your uncle."

"I should've known not to trust Janz with the details," Cross scowled, and then his head took on a repeated shake, "but sure, like you'll go off on a holiday and let me play boss rancher for awhile, and then when my uncle hands me the money, we can all go on our way like nothing ever happened. Except you never could. You'd have the law on me faster than I can pull this trigger. Nothing doing, Sherman. Nothing doing."

"Cross," Slim began slowly, trying to keep his tone leveled, "he's just a boy. You don't want to hurt him. If you kill Andy, you can't use him anymore."

"I'm using him right now," Cross responded with a chuckle. "To twist your insides until you can't stand it anymore."

He was close to it now. Slim felt as if a knife had been inserted into his gut and turned, Cross' hand grinding it deeper with each of his threats. Cross said before he wouldn't kill something he could use, and Slim had just slid that card on the table, but this wasn't a game Cross was playing anymore. He was desperate and ruthless. And a man such as Cross would do anything, even kill a boy. Slim opened his mouth, another mode of delay on his lips, but anything further would be quickly silenced. The crack of a rifle suddenly split the air, and all three of them flinched.

"You hear that?" Cross' mouth split open with a wicked grin. "Only one. You know what that shot means? Harper was on the other end of it. Rex was waiting for him. It's over, Sherman. You're done. You have nothing else to fight for but this kid. Harper's gone. Gone! Now, do you have all the grief you can handle, or do I give you some more?"

"Stop Cross," Slim's voice approached the tone of begging, the defeat visibly weighing his shoulders down. He couldn't believe that the sound of a single gunshot meant Jess' demise, but it meant that his precious sliver of time was up. Cross was going to kill Andy. Maybe Slim would have been able to get to him before the next round would end up in Slim's flesh, but even if retaliation could kill Cross with his bare hands, it would already be too late. It was too late. It was over. He was done. Cross' words churned in a repeated motion through his head, until his own version came through his lips. "I give up. You win. The ranch is yours."

"You mean that?" Cross asked, his eyes glistening with glee.

"Every word," Slim said, the promise stinging throughout his entire flesh. "Whatever you want me to do, you'll have it. Just let Andy go."

"Slim, no," Andy said, feeling the pressure of Cross' gun slowly release from his head. It just couldn't be over. Not yet. "Please don't give up, Slim."

"Shut up, kid," Cross snapped, pulling his arm up in a strangling hold around Andy's neck. "It's done. You heard your brother. The ranch is mine."

"Let him go," Slim said, his voice quiet, yet not without solid honor. "You have my word."

"So I do," Cross smiled, and in one swift motion, Andy was shoved forward, his momentum reeling him directly into Slim's body, making them both drop to the ground. Slim put a comforting hold around Andy's waist, but suddenly tightened his grip as Cross' gun was now pointing directly at Slim. "Get out of the way, kid. It's your brother's turn."

"No!" Andy cried, but Slim began to move him aside.

"See," Cross raised an arm in the air, "even your brother wants you moved."

"But you said…" Andy started, but Cross quickly cut him off.

"Your brother made the promise, remember?" Cross tapped the end of his gun at Slim. "I made none. Now do as I say. Move! Thank you. Looks like I get to still use you after all, kid. And you, Sherman, stay where you lie. I think there can be a little fun amidst some dying, don't you think?"

A laughed rippled through Cross' throat as he lowered his aim, the trigger being pulled to place a bullet at Slim's foot, the second only missing Slim's skull by a few inches. It was all too familiar for Slim, except this time, the one behind the gun wasn't his little brother trying desperately to miss his flesh. Cross knew exactly where he was placing the bullets, and one, maybe the next, or the following, or all the way to the sixth would pierce him, in a place where no man could dig it out. Slim jerked his arm closer to his side when the skin near his elbow burned with contact, but the bullet itself slammed into the ground. He lifted his gaze to find Cross' aim, and the barrel was pointed directly between his eyes.

Andy watched the scene in horror, knowing that Cross' game would only have one winner, but there was a wildcard hidden that the villain knew nothing about. It was time to use it. Andy put his hand in his pocket and pulled the derringer out with a secure grip, his thumb reaching up for the hammer as the appropriate finger found the trigger. And then his eyes narrowed in on Cross, as Jess' directions were spoken like a gentle whisper in his ear.

Point. Don't aim. And fire.

:.:.:

Farmer Gail echoed a thought from Nakoosay, which was addressed in this chapter about what Cross would do with the stagecoach line. Under Cross' plan, there would be no stagecoaches, therefore, less suspicion. But in reality, when a man is only in it for evil greed, he wouldn't make every detail perfection. Thank you to these readers who helped me tie that loose end together.

Nakoosay also couldn't forget Rex, and although I doubt he ever really left our heroes minds, Rex hadn't forgotten them either. He's made a comeback, so thank you to Nakoosay for envisioning his return.

Pakyann and Nakoosay also suggested Andy's hand to help aid with the rescue, but as I'm leaving that part at the cliffhanger, I guess we'll all have to wait and see how that plays out. Thank you for your input, it's greatly appreciated, as I honestly was at a loss as how to weave this ongoing saga together.

Linda Myrland asked that I not rush the ending, which I try to never do, and although I did attempt to close the story with chapter nine, it wasn't meant to be. So now the ending is elongated and I wanted to give Linda a thank you for putting that request in my mind to keep me focused.

But, as I can see a conclusion on the horizon, I will say that only one chapter remains. Thank you to everyone who has stayed with me this far!