Chapter Nine
Jess sat alone in the front room of the doctor's office, his head bowed slightly as his eyes were riveted to the bandage on his hand. His burns had been tended to as he had reluctantly let Doc Sweeney go over his entire body, rubbing salve and aloe into every wound and then wrapped in loose bandages. He breathed a deep sigh that brought a rumble from his chest that emitted through his mouth in a raspy cough. He was whole. Burned, broken, beaten down, but he was still alive. Just like all of those years ago when he'd escaped the death of the fire of his youth. And just like then, he didn't know how or why.
Jess raised his head when the doorknob to an inner room was turned and Doc Sweeney came through. He held in his hand a badge, still shiny and untarnished by the brutal attack of the flames. He held the badge out for Jess to take and when he placed it in his palm he turned it over, rubbing the engraved words of "Sheriff" with his thumb. Jess looked up at the weary eyes of the doctor and nodded slightly and then Doc Sweeney silently went back to the room he'd come from and closed the door behind him.
Jess closed his hand over the badge and then looked down at the one that barely hung onto his tattered shirt. Gaping holes in the once blue fabric revealed reddened flesh and bandages, but around the pocket where the star's prongs still pierced it was whole. Just like the one that came from Mort. Even the raging fires of living hell couldn't tarnish the symbol of law and authority. Jess had a strange feeling of satisfaction in seeing the emblems unscathed, knowing that it was the same law it represented that would find the man responsible and make him pay heavily for what had been lost.
Jess glanced through the window as he heard a familiar stride approaching and as the first light of day dawned on the horizon, the door was opened and Slim walked in. Jess tried to speak but his coughs consumed him and Slim knelt beside his battered partner, placing one hand on a bandaged shoulder, the other one balled into a fist at his side, his emotions a tight mixture of guilt and remorse.
"I came as soon as I heard," Slim said softly as he observed every charred portion of Jess' clothes and the bandages the holes in the fabric exposed. "How are you, Pard?"
"Rough," a haggard cough followed Jess' one word reply.
"I'm sorry, Jess, I shouldn't make you speak," Slim said, his tone low, moisture not far from his eyes. "But, I need to know about Mort."
Jess nodded his head, swallowing to try to clear away the pain in his throat that was worse than any sickness that attacked the area around the vocal chords and then with a gentle sigh, he turned his eyes to look into the worried face of his partner. "He's gonna make it." It was whispered, but it was loud enough to bring a smile to Slim's face.
Doc Sweeney opened the door and leaned his head out and seeing Slim alongside Jess, he stepped through the doorway and approached the two men, his finger gently wagging in Jess' direction. "I thought I told you to not talk for at least six to eight more hours."
Jess shrugged and thrust a thumb in Slim's direction, his declaration to show as if the presence of his partner was enough to break the rules of doctor's orders. Yet as all three men in the room knew it wasn't often that Jess followed through with medical instructions anyway. They each found a smile and Slim stood, shaking hands with the trusted physician, the look in his eyes enough to convey his thankfulness for tending to his injured friends, but unlike Jess, who was often satisfied with simple explanations, Slim requested details from the doctor.
"Jess' wounds are mostly superficial. His burns should heal completely without scarring. His throat and lungs took a beating, but smoke will do worse things than that. If he keeps his voice low, preferably completely quiet, his energetic vocal arrangements should be back to normal in a few days."
"And Mort?"
"He's going to take longer to heal," Doc answered as he nodded his head. "The burns weren't his only injuries. The fall from the top of the stairs dislocated a shoulder and one of the burning rungs pierced his thigh. He covered his face with his arms, so there weren't any burns there, a few on his neck and chest, but mostly on his arms and back. His clothes sheltered him enough so that the worst burns weren't life threatening, but that was also because Jess was right there to pull him out of the flames extremely fast. As long as infection doesn't set in, I believe Mort will make a full recovery, although he's going to be in pain for a long time."
Slim began a discourse with the doctor, but Jess' mind completely blocked out what was being said. Jess had known some of what Mort endured, but hearing the words in greater detail began a swarm of thoughts and emotions running wildly in his head. Everything that happened to Mort was because of him. Jess felt completely responsible for it all. Even though there was nothing he could have done to stop the arsonist from starting the destructive fire, if he wouldn't have run from the anxiety when it started to hound him, he could have safely exited the building with Carol, Johnny and Mort at the first sign of fire. But Jess had been in the sheriff's office alone, fighting his menacing dreams that almost led to the death of one of his closest friends.
"Jess?" Slim said his name twice before his attention was grabbed. "I said you should get some sleep. I'll stay in town for as long as need be."
Jess opened his mouth to reply but Doc Sweeney cleared his throat loud enough as a stern reminder for Jess to stay quiet. He shrugged his shoulders and then stood, but instead of going towards a recovery room that the doctor was pointing to, Jess walked to the office door and stepped out into the early light. Slim stayed beside him, not commenting on his partner's slow, limping pace in his bare feet as they reached Mort's office.
Jess went inside first, rubbing a hand through his hair that still held a sprinkling of ashes and then ran the same hand over his shredded shirt, the action being noticed by Slim that his partner was in need of new attire. Jess wanted to drop into the chair behind Mort's desk as he had no time to sleep like he knew Slim wanted, but just to please his partner, Jess went into the first cell and laid down. He hadn't intended to close his eyes as the fears of his nightmares still played in his mind, but the extreme exhaustion weighing him down had its own ideas. Not long after Jess' eyelashes dropped down, a soft snore escaped his parted lips, this time, in a deep slumber where dreams went unknown.
Slim waited until he was certain Jess slept soundly before he exited the sheriff's office, his direction pointing to the mercantile. With a new hat, new boots and two shirts piled on the counter, Slim added a bundle of socks and long johns to the stack before dropping his coins into the clerk's hands, all the while explaining to everyone in the establishment that both Jess and Mort would recover. The questions he received were all to be expected, Slim understood as concern was written on every face as the talk of the fire ran through town rapidly. Every mouth that spoke showed the tension of fear as it was becoming obvious that the fires were all related, set by a human hand.
Slim returned to Mort's office, leaving the wrapped bundle for Jess on the desk. He sat down in the chair, his thoughts about the fire running almost as quickly as the gossip mixed truth that was going around Laramie. His worry was wrapped mostly around Jess, but Mort's escape from death wasn't far behind, pushing in was the ominous threat that the arsonist would strike again. Where and how soon, no one could ever know.
Slim didn't look up at the clock on the wall until he heard the stirring in the jail room, noticing then that Jess had only slept four hours, not long enough for an injured man, although Jess would say otherwise. He watched as Jess limped through the cell door and when he pushed the package in his partner's direction, Jess unwrapped the loose covering and with a nod of thanks, replaced his tattered shirt with a new one.
"You shouldn't be here, Slim," Jess spoke the words as loud as he dared, but his voice still didn't sound like it came from his mouth. He didn't care what Doc Sweeney would say, he'd been silenced long enough. He put on the new socks and then the boots, stamping his foot in the process to get the proper fit, but the action was also used as an emphasis on his next statement. "Someone's gotta stand guard at the ranch."
"You're injured, Jess," Slim raised himself from the chair and stepped close to Jess, tapping him on the shoulder as a reminder at just how much he hurt as he made Jess wince. "You should be the one to go home. Let Daisy take care of you for a while."
"You're forgetting something, Slim," Jess fastened the deputy badge to his new shirt. "Mort gave this to me. Yeah, I know, you could wear it just as well, but right now it's pinned on me and I ain't got reason enough to take it off just yet."
"But Jess…" Slim's protest was quickly cut off.
"I ain't taking any of them 'buts'. This star makes me in charge so I'm telling you to get home. There's an arsonist on the loose and he could strike again at any moment. Here in town or on the outskirts or twelve miles to the east. You've gotta be there."
"I understand what you're saying, Pard," Slim nodded as he reluctantly took a step towards the door as he'd been thinking about the ranch, Daisy and Mike himself, "but leaving you here alone isn't an easy task considering your…"
"My what?" Jess arched his brow. "My condition? I've been half-dead before and still been able to turn sidewinders inside out. Or maybe the condition you're meaning is what's up in here." Jess tapped his head, watching as Slim briefly dropped his eyes to the ground.
"I'm not here to lie to you or get your ire rankled," Slim answered softly, "but, yes, knowing what you've gone through recently I can't help but want to stand by your side through it all."
It was now Jess' turn to drop his eyes to the ground. He pulled a half smile to his lips and then he draped his arm over Slim's shoulder. "I do appreciate that, Slim. I reckon you're the only one I'd wanna have go through this with me, but we both have a different duty to perform. I ain't gonna shirk mine and I reckon you ain't gonna do so with yours."
"You're right, Jess," Slim nodded, keeping his eyes level with Jess'. "I'll go home and protect our family while…"
"…I protect everyone here," Jess finished Slim's statement, bringing a friendly smile to the two men's faces.
Despite their reassuring tones in their voices as they parted, there was a shared thought in both Slim and Jess' minds that brought a shadow of darkness inside of them. While they were busy protecting the town and their loved ones, if the worst did truly come, as long as they remained apart, Slim and Jess couldn't help but wonder: Who would protect each other?