Chapter Eight

"What do you mean the trial's tomorrow?" Jonesy's hands went into Frankie's shoulders, stopping short before he shook the stage driver. "Just this morning Mose said Wednesday and Charlie said Friday."

"Sheriff Cory handed me a note when I was loading up. It wasn't in an envelope so I figured I might as well read it. And that's what it said."

All of the other messages had come from the tail's end, but this could be said it was direct from the horse's mouth. What made it even worse was that it was the kind of animal wearing the star. A body doesn't argue with those.

He opened the page and took it in, every word like a scorpion's sting. Judge Oliver sent to Montana, Judge Patterson will come up from Colorado instead. Will be here by ten tomorrow. Trial set to start at one.

"Oh, no! I've gotta get into town and see Slim."

Frankie gestured toward the coach. "This one's rolling east."

"I know that," Jonesy snapped, but some of the leather must have struck himself. He quickly changed his tongue. "I'm sorry, Frankie. I'm just a little on edge is all."

"I think I understand," Frankie said, motioning toward the shotgun rider. "Pepper and I will do the swapping. You take it easy."

"Thanks."

Frankie called over his shoulder. "Fidget any nicer today?"

"Nope. But feel free to take her on this run. It'll do her good. And me to not have to look at her for awhile."

Frankie did manage to get Fidget attached, back left, but Jonesy couldn't dig up enough pleasure in his middle to utter any good riddance calls to the beast when they rolled out. He was standing still, one hand attached to his hip the other nearly clinging to his chin. Jonesy knew he had to talk to Slim, but what came after was as fuzzy as a bunny's backend.

Jonesy took position in the wagon's seat. "Now, Andy, with me leaving this late in the day I might not be back before dark. Lock all the doors, light the lamps, keep the curtains tight and don't let anyone, and I mean anyone, enter this house."

"I'll take care of Jess, Jonesy. I promise. Why did he say Slim shot him?"

"I don't know. That's what I've gotta find out."

.:.

A hand slapped his shoulder. "What?"

"Look. Jonesy's back to see Sherman."

Bailey followed his brother's point through Windy's batwings. "Late in the day for callers, don't you think?"

"Who can understand that old man's mind?"

"Not me, for sure, but this time I'm definitely going over to get an earful. You coming?"

Scottie looked to his left and then did the same to the other side of town. Few people were milling at this hour. They just might pull it off. "You bet."

.:.

"Slim. I just heard about the trial."

He didn't bother to stand, keeping his hands balled together under his chin. "Tomorrow."

"Slim."

Jonesy stopped there. How was he going to put this? Start out slow and then jump right into the frying pan? Keep to the far left while he tossed the bacon on to sizzle? It would still burn, but at least his skin wouldn't turn black from the crackles.

His eyes fluttered down as he inhaled the air, strangely stale even though there was a window with outside air just above Slim's cot. "Jess came to awhile ago."

Now he felt the freedom to leap upward, his hands circling the bars as Slim's eyes found their first true light in days. "He did?"

"Yes. But only for a moment. Slim, he…" Okay, this wasn't going as expected. The bacon fat was already splattering right in his face.

"He what? Isn't he going to make it?"

"I think so. The worst is behind him, yeah."

"Then what's wrong?"

He shuffled his feet, as if Jonesy really was in a frying pan, but not off to the side where it was cooler, but in the center where everything boiled the hardest. "Slim, I asked him who shot him."

"Great." The grin flashed. "What did he say?"

"You."

The shadow across Slim's face was so abrupt it was as if every lamp within a hundred miles had been blown out in unison. "Me?"

"That's what Jess said."

"But I didn't. Surely I'd know if I put my gun in his direction and pulled the trigger. I might've been angry at him, but I wouldn't put a bullet in him. I swear."

"I know you wouldn't, Slim. I'm just telling you what Jess said."

"Wasn't there anything else?"

Jonesy's shoulders weakly rose then fell. "I asked him if he could hear me, he nodded. Then I asked him who shot him. Took him a few tries to get it out, but the end result was the same. You. Now I know Jess isn't capable of getting up on that stand tomorrow and tell it like it is, but his word still says you shot him. Juries listen to the victims far more than they listen to the defendants, you know."

"I know. I might not hang, but I'll still go to jail. Five to ten. Maybe even twenty." Slim's hands reached up to his face, first the stretch paused at his mouth, but then spread upward to cover his eyes. "Oh Jess, if only I could take everything I've done to you back, then maybe you wouldn't hate me so much to send me to prison."

.:.

"You heard enough?"

The nod was like an excited child being asked if he was ready to open a birthday present. "I was right. Harper's alive. Jonesy's gone and fooled us."

"Well he can't fool us now, not when he's still yapping it up with Sherman."

Bailey watched his brother spin the chamber of his revolver. "You aiming to use that thing?"

"I am. Get yours ready too. Because you're going to get Harper good this time, even if I have to kill whoever else is in your way."

.:.

He hated driving in the dark. He hated being out past dark, period. The hours after sunset were meant to be lazy ones, sitting in a rocker waiting for the first star to pop or gathered around a dining table with beef's aroma tickling his nostrils. Heck, even battling a basin full of dirty dishes was better than this. And Jonesy did have that chore ahead of him. An entire day's worth of plates, cups and the utensils that went with it were waiting at home. Plus two full pots that he would have to toss out and then soak.

"Oh well. I'll try not to complain when the suds are up to my elbows. As long as what I'm really being bathed in is light. And not trying to get a team of horses to cooperate. Get up there!"

The pair in front of him didn't really respond. They knew authority when they heard it, and Jonesy definitely lacked that. The slower their trot was, the deeper into the night they went, taking the colors down further and further until there was only one. But where he expected that change, the most inviting kind, the same darkness met him at that last turn. Pulling up on the reins, Jonesy stood. There wasn't a single lamp lit in the house.

The reins cracked hard. "Hah!"

Now they would respond as if fire were under their hooves. Almost too much. Jonesy had to pull so hard he felt more than his back cry out when the wheels stopped in front of the house. He couldn't care about that now. And this thought was proven when Jonesy leapt out of the driver's seat and rushed into the house.

"Andy?"

The returning silence had the chill of wintertime.

Nearly jumping at the sound of a match being lit, Jonesy turned up the wick so that the light would splash over the entire room. Nothing was amiss here.

"Maybe he just fell asleep."

But his innards knew better. The churn started to tell a frightening story before his eyes could view the pictures that went with it. The three steps that it took to get him to the bedroom had the length as if he were reading the full pages aloud.

Pushing the door open, Jonesy held the light ahead of him. He almost dropped it.

Someone had kicked in the rarely used outside door at the bedroom's rear. But that wasn't all. The closet door wide open, Mary's dresses were cast to the floor. Jess' bed was upside down, Slim's was tousled, Andy's was askew, even Jonesy's pillow was tossed to the wrong end. And right in the middle of the floor was Jess' gun, the fancy revolver from his gunfighter days.

That last part he couldn't quite figure out, but the rest had no question marks dangling over the top of them. The Brown brothers weren't so fooled after all.

Running for the main room, Jonesy put his hand on his preferred weapon, and then quickly set it down. He wanted to put as much buckshot as an iron like this could hold into each Brown backside, but Jonesy knew that was something that he couldn't do alone.

This time he wouldn't be driving to Laramie. He would be riding. God help his back. But the bigger prayer here was not for himself. God help Andy and Jess.

.:.

He must have been dreaming. Although being asleep would have been its own form of miracle, Slim must have succumbed to slumber. He had felt the notes of happiness, not only bending his lips upward, but settling over his entire soul. Only in a dream could Slim experience this emotion, even if he couldn't recall the images that had stirred his inner chords.

Wiping his eyes, Slim searched for the bars above him. Too bad this scene couldn't disappear like the other. But gone, too, was the lilt of his mouth, replaced with the hard lines that he had grown accustomed to. Maybe Slim would never smile again.

What was it now? Twelve hours until his trial started? Might have been even less.

Slim cringed as he thought he heard the gavel's ominous clop, right before he was sentenced. It was really a bump against the outside door.

Yawning, Slim stretched and then rolled over. Even if it would turn out to be a futile attempt, he desired that peaceful place of rest. He wouldn't get it. Within seconds, Slim's head shot upright.

"Slim?"

"Jonesy?" Slim's height enabled him to look out the window, unaided by the bunk that most men stood on to do the same, catching the familiar hat crouched in the darkness below. "What's wrong?"

"Where's Sheriff Cory?"

"He rode out not long after you left. There was trouble at the junction. He said he'd be back before Judge Patterson arrives. But that doesn't answer my question. What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you when I'm inside. You know if the sheriff keeps an extra key lying around someplace? I'd sure hate to have to jimmy my way in."

"Yeah. Above the back door, you'll feel a crack in the frame. The key to the door is there."

"Thanks."

The anticipation put Slim's heart into a hard knock inside of his chest as he waited to hear the lock turn over. When the click sounded, his face went into the space between the bars that he gave the appearance of being caught in a vice. But the way the fear was rising, his eyes would have been close to popping even if there was nothing clutching his cheeks.

"It's sure a good thing you know your way around this jail," Jonesy said, his hands finding the bottom of his vest pockets.

"Forget about that. Now tell me."

"Honestly I know very little. But the whole version is this. The house had been broken into when I got back to the ranch. Andy and Jess were gone."

"Gone, like in…"

"Like in not being there."

"But where would they go?"

"I don't know if they were taken or if they simply disappeared. What I do know is that either way, they're in trouble. Terrible trouble."

"What kind of trouble? And don't just tell me terrible."

"Death's kind."

"Tell me all of it, Jonesy. I don't think I can handle just a few words tossed about anymore."

"You might not be able to handle them in full either, but here goes. I think it's gotta be Bailey and Scottie Brown's doing, Slim. Although they've done a good job hiding it, I reckon they've been behind this from the start. Andy finally remembers what happened to him on the ridge. Bailey Brown pushed him. But that's just the small of it. They were at the house this afternoon, snooping. I thought I made it so that they couldn't find even a whiff of Jess' scent, but I must've been wrong. If they find him alive, one of them'll kill Jess right quick. Maybe they already have."

"The Browns," Slim said, balling his hands into fists, but putting flesh against flesh would be quite a feat from where he stood.

Jonesy fancied himself with being more than the definition of good when it came to reading a man's thoughts. When it was his best friend under his scrutiny, Jonesy could border on excellence. And what he saw in every line on Slim's face was exactly what he needed. A man that had the kind of punch in more than just his hands to lead a pack of two on Andy and Jess' trail, and save them from the inevitable if the inevitable hadn't already happened.

If the serious moment wasn't keeping his lips tight, Jonesy would have smiled. "You know, Slim, I kept telling myself on the way to town that I was coming for the sheriff, but since he's not here I reckon I can admit it. I was coming to get you."

"What can I do behind bars?"

"Who says you're gonna stay behind them things?" Jonesy's hand pulled free from his pocket, and draped over one finger was the kind of ring that held a certain sized key. "Looks like the key to the back door isn't the only one I have access to."

"Wait a minute. You're not going to break me out of jail."

If Jonesy didn't have words to say, his jaw might have gone so slack it dropped all the way to the floor. "But Slim, there's no other way. Andy and Jess need help."

"I know. But I'll break myself out of jail. I don't need you to be in trouble with the law too."

"I'm in here, so that means I'm still aiding and abetting," Jonesy said, eyeing Slim's palm that went up flat in front of him. Tilting his head to the side, Jonesy shrugged and then dropped the key into Slim's clasp.

"That depends on who tells the story."

"Or who's listening."

Bars finally behind him instead of in front of him, Slim ran into the outer room and then tossed the keys into their rightful place on Mort's desk. "Let's go."

.:.

He knew he didn't have the vision a nighthawk would possess, didn't have the kind of ears that would twitch at a limb's snap, and he didn't have the ability to put a bullet where he aimed it. But this wasn't what had Andy's eyebrows in a permanent pinch.

He searched for Jess' outline in the dark. "I'm sorry I couldn't hide our trail like you would've done"

"Don't worry about it," Jess answered, his hand naturally angling toward the boy's shoulder to give it a squeeze. "You've done fine as it is."

Andy didn't think so, which made the protest easy to sputter. "But the Browns, they've gotta be out there, and they'll see."

"I reckon they are. Like I said, don't let it unravel your hide."

Andy nodded, but if he had let the inside of his head actually come to agreement, then he wouldn't be twisting his hands together anymore. Maybe if he stuffed them in his pockets then the rest of him would settle down. Nope. He might not be wringing sweat droplets out of his palms anymore, but that couldn't be said of what his guts were up to. That was the kind of twist that wouldn't see relief, even with the face-cringing tea that Jonesy usually poured down his throat to cure a similar ailment. That part of him wouldn't get tamed until this was all over. That is, if they landed on the right side of things when this came to a close.

He looked at Jess, surprisingly calm. "How do you feel?"

"Well, my chin ain't bobbing against my chest anymore, so I mustn't be too bad off."

One corner of his mouth quickly went upward and then returned to its unease. That was how they had ridden away from the ranch, keeping Andy so afraid that Jess was going to slip out of their shared saddle that he put his entire attention into holding Jess upright. But not taking care of where his horse landed its hooves had left his trail wide open for the Brown brothers to follow.

For a moment Andy wondered if he had done the wrong thing, getting Jess away from the ranch when he saw the two men top the rise just before dusk made its release to darkness. He knew what Jonesy had said about keeping everyone on the outside locked behind their closed doors, but this wasn't just anyone coming to call. The Browns weren't the kind that would respect a doorknob that wouldn't turn over. They wanted to kill Jess, and that would make them break glass, kick down doors or fill the rooms with lead when they discovered they couldn't enter the easy way.

That was when Andy had pulled Jess' gun out of its hiding place. He put one piece of lead inside, but the way his hands shook, he couldn't put in another. And one bullet would do nothing when there were two.

Then he looked at the closet, the safe haven that Jonesy had made for Jess however many hours before. That too, wouldn't do. Andy wouldn't be able to carry him there. And definitely not in time. At that very moment the hooves against the road were pounding the same rhythm as his brain. All he could do now was run.

Gun falling out of his clasp, the clank to the floor made him jump, but it was that movement of Andy's feet that got him to Jess' bedside in one blink. His hands had shaken Jess so hard the blankets almost tumbled to the floor. The top layers did find the rest of the way down when Jess jerked upright.

Jess looked up to find the frightened eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I've gotta get you outta here."

"Where to? Someplace Slim won't find me?"

For the first time Andy knew what it felt like to be punched in the stomach. And no fist had even come close. Being inexperienced to such a blow, Andy grimaced, going so far to feeling the nauseating recoil behind his belly button. But he had to shake it off just as Jess would do if he were involved in a barroom brawl. They were down to seconds.

"No. The Browns. But don't ask any more questions, Jess. No time."

They had snuck out the kitchen door the moment the bedroom's outer doorway was smashed in. Fortunately the two men had created enough clatter that they didn't hear Andy's horse being led out of its stall. Going into the grassy hillside behind the barn was its own muted form, as Andy didn't allow the gallop to take place until they were well on the other side.

By then the Browns knew of their full escape and would be right in their shadow. Andy twisted his head, expecting to see their guns leading their charge, except they turned north when Andy turned south. But he knew that wouldn't last long. Not when Andy moved to the easier grade of the road, letting his mount's tracks point the way to Long Ridge.

He stood now in the cave's security, watching, listening, praying. But even though Andy's belief in that last part had no waver, the two men weren't likely to get struck by God's powerful lightning bolt before they came this way. But even a small bolt would do, all the way down to the size as the bullets in Jess' gun. It was a good thing that Jess' hand could be like that kind of flash, as he grabbed his gun and the leather that it sat in from the bedpost while Andy was pulling him toward the living room.

This was where Andy's focus was on now. The thumb of Jess' right couldn't be stilled, rubbing against the chamber, and then seated against the hammer, back to the chamber before giving the handle a tap. He was as ready as if the Browns were standing in front of him. But what if, like before, they snuck in on his back?

His breath was a fast inhale. "Jess?"

"Hmm?"

"Why'd you tell Jonesy that Slim shot you? I know he couldn't have done it."

"When did I say that?"

"This afternoon."

Jess shook his head. "I don't remember."

"You don't know who shot you?"

"From what you told me about Bailey and Scottie Brown when we were sneaking up to the cave, I reckon it was one of them. Probably Bailey since I knocked his horns off during Jubilee."

"So you don't think it was Slim?"

Jess stared into the darkness, making sure that he had the moments to allow his mind to wander over such delicate ground. They did. While he heard the distant drumbeat of hooves, it wasn't so close he had to crouch for cover. But during the listening phase, Jess had discarded the question. To be able to answer it truthfully, he had to bring it up front.

Did Slim shoot him down?

Slim was mad at him, all right, enough to kick, holler and maybe even bite. But not to the point where he would draw his gun, aim it and fire. And then do the most despicable. Leave him for dead.

Jess finally shook his head. "No."

"Then why'd you say so?"

Oblivion is a strange place. Jess had been there enough times to not be afraid of it. Sometimes it was a black pit of absolute nothingness. Other times a body wasn't down there alone. Jess had even figured there was one drop that an angel was keeping watch. But at least a part of this particular journey through darkness, Slim had been there. Up high, far enough away that they couldn't reach each other.

Jess squinted, trying to recall what had been alive while he was riding along death's shadows. Not much was clear. Only Slim. "I reckon I was just calling out to him. Maybe I thought I heard his voice, or something."

But it was more than a voice, even more than a feeling, although emotions had existence. It was a sense of loss. Slim was there, but because distance separated them, preventing a life-saving touch, it was as if he was truly gone. Jess felt its return, now harder on this side of oblivion's thick curtain, and his body nearly lurched forward at grief's sudden clutching of his chest.

He took a deep breath, willing the locked up pieces of his heart to remain inside. Jess had to keep everything inside. That was easier done when his enemies were creeping into view.

"Jess…" Andy's eyes, like his heart, grew wild. "They're coming."

"Shhh."

Every muscle tensing for what was about to be thrown his way, his body angled forward to allow a clearer line for his gun, but also purposely putting his frame in the kind of position to be Andy's shield.

The first bullet should be flying any time now. Although he couldn't discern one brother from the other in the dark, Jess could see the pair's outlines. Well, why wait for the introduction when Jess had the proper howdy underneath his trigger finger?

Pulling, the blast brought the returned hellos, and Jess' expertise dodge prevented the lead's knocking against his skull, or any other vital place. But that could be said the same for them. Jess was already crouched, performing a reload, and the two were still actively throwing them his way. If he was going to come out of this in better shape than how he got into it, Jess would have to take it down to one.

The gun ready for more, Jess squeezed off a couple of rounds and then rocked back on his heels, watching as the lead bounced a couple of inches from his cheek. This was getting too close. As was someone else.

Jess shifted his gaze. "Andy, get back."

"I was worried you were hit, the way you jumped and all."

"It was just a ricochet. But get back or the next one'll be in you."

He knew he should, but Andy couldn't retreat, not just yet. Not when his vision caught a different flash. "What was that?"

Jess craned his head to follow Andy's point, but he didn't need the guide. The next shot was released from the new weapon and one of the Browns returned the fire. Someone else was down at the bottom of the ridge. Slim. It had to be. Who else would be getting in position to fight for him instead of against him? And Jess had Andy in a position that he had promised to not be in.

"Andy!" Jess stood, wanting to push the boy into the cave's depths, but if he didn't turn and fire instead, Jess was sure to die.

Maybe he would anyway.

Andy watched Jess' body, first diving at him, but then rushing toward the cave's mouth. He didn't know what gun had produced it, didn't even here its crack, but Andy heard it fly. The sound of its finish was even worse. And with the thud, Jess was going down.

"Jess!"