Chapter Nine

At first the gunfire was only echoes. Still, the faint pops were enough to chill Slim's spine and beyond. He hurried ahead until the blasts were more than just repeats, hoping with every breath that he was going to make it into the fray's middle, and not come upon its end. Jess or Andy's end.

His iron protruding ahead, Slim saw the outline of Long Ridge take shape against the stars. By the trail he had been following he figured Andy had been the lead runner. The cave above him might not have been the most secret one within range of the Sherman property line, but it was one of the better places to hide. Even more important when there were lives at stake, it had the advantage to fend off a couple of outlaws that came clawing up the steep slope.

"Good boy," Slim said, watching the flashes above him, knowing, even if fear spoke otherwise, that it was Jess handling the iron, not Andy.

It was the other two that prickled his hide. The Browns were spaced strategically, so that if there was any exposure trying to bulls-eye one, the other would have enough of an eyeful to land a bullet home. That option was about to go down to nil.

His position taken, Slim offered the point of his gun toward the broadest shoulders, his aim as close to the frame as he could allow without shooting Scottie in the back. All he wanted was the attention to sway in his direction, break up the brothers so that they weren't both bouncing their lead inside the cave. Pulling the trigger, Slim heard the ricochet and got his desired turn. But what he didn't know was that another body was also moving. Down. The bullet in Bailey's gun was seeing more than Slim's, and flying to kill what was on its other side.

"Jess!"

Andy's scream ripped Slim in half. No!

His mouth was open, working the same name that had been torturously thrown off Andy's tongue. Slim didn't get it out, but if his inner self was noise, Slim's call would have boomed like thunder's most vicious crack.

Jess!

The rocks above him had the sound of crumbling, but the same truth existed in his core. Looking up to land's version of his heart, Slim found the outline, bent at the waist and clutching for safety. Jess would reach none of it. Another slip, more sliding of earth, and another gash worked its way through Slim as Jess continued to fall.

If he could view this much, the Browns could see the same. Lifting his iron, Slim popped off a rapid pair, and this time he wasn't aiming for a mere ricochet. He wanted flesh. In one blast he took Scottie's. All of it. The tumble downhill proved that life was gone as the man landed at Slim's feet. Now it would be a little easier to reach Jess. A little was truth. Bailey was gearing up to fire.

The two remaining bullets flew out of Slim's gun, stopping Jess' instant death, but the ducking head was too precise. He missed. If Slim took the time to reload, there would be nothing left of him. He already felt as if he were tattered to shreds. Well, he wasn't diminished yet, which left enough power in his body to get up to where he was needed the most.

There went that earth rolling bellow again.

Jess!

Jonesy had stayed in the background, safe by the horses where lead couldn't reach, but when he craned his head, knowing that Slim's last shot had been given, he ran to the ridge's base. A figure was on the rise. Its silhouette could belong to only one.

"Slim! Don't go up there, you'll be right in his line of fire!" Jonesy hollered, his waving arm slow to fall back to its side, but when his palm made the connection, he did it with a slap. "Oh, what a waste of air. That boy's just as crazy as Jess is. But who am I to point fingers? I might as well get up there too."

If he went straight, the risk to fall in the same kind of line back to the bottom was too great. And Slim would have easily admitted that the danger he was putting his life in didn't register until Jonesy shouted. He would do no good to Jess if he arrived at the top looking like one of the cans on the day of Jubilee after Jess was finished with it.

A bullet bouncing near his side, Slim angled around a boulder, but this large form of security did something else. It blocked his vision to Jess. There was no other way. He would have to remain blind to his friend's position all the way to the top.

The ground flatter against his boots, Slim ran. "Andy?"

"Over here, Slim."

His hand eased Andy to a safer crevice in the rocks. "Where's Jess?"

"Down there someplace. I think he's shot. Oh, Slim, help him!"

"I will, Andy. Just stay here so I don't have to worry about the both of you."

His gun out and ready to take more than a slice out of Bailey's hide, Slim's steps put him in the kind of position that would give him the same if Bailey's iron was just as aligned as his. Looking out over the land that was still muted with nightfall, Slim pulled in a long shaft and held it. Everything was silent beneath him. Bailey must be out of lead, playing possum or checking a pulse that would be still.

But where was Jess?

Slim leaned over the edge. "Jess?"

Amid his struggle to clasp any kind of object that would prevent a life-ending fall, Jess looked up. He had seen this exact image before. Through the dark endlessness of oblivion, Slim had been there. Up high, far enough away that they couldn't reach each other. Through the darkness of this night, Slim was there. Up high, far enough away that they couldn't reach each other.

Jess squinted, but it wasn't necessary to try to recall what had been alive while he was riding along death's shadows. It was right there in his core at that very moment, pummeling him with every breath that entered his lungs. Inside Slim's call was more than his voice, even more than a feeling. The sense of losing his best friend was so great, Jess' own cry was forming. But it was neither a name nor even a scream. It was grief, and its sudden clutching of his chest made the pain pull the gasp right out of his throat.

But while Jess' focus was on losing what was above, he was also losing what was below. A sudden shift of his legs, and there was nothing underneath. And nothing there to keep him in place.

Until a hand wrapped around his own.

"I've got you, Jess."

Feeling the tug against both halves of his frame, Jess looked down toward death, and then back up toward life. "Why, Slim? Why do you wanna save me now? You let me go before. How's this any different?"

It wasn't.

He could barely get out his reply. "That's something far too long to tell a man that's dangling over open space. Be ready, I'm going to pull."

Slim really didn't know what he was using for supports. He had one free hand, but if it clung to anything solid, it wasn't long enough of a performance to call it being used. The muscles in his legs were at their hardest brace, his shoulders the same. Still, this wasn't the sole explanation of how Slim was able to pull Jess over an incline that had no mercy when it came to dropping bodies.

Stamina, tenacity, these were key role players, but where it really mattered was there in the heart.

One last heave out of both sets of lungs and the kind of solid ground that would hold each in place was underneath them. His hand being let go, Jess laid on his back, his chest filling and then releasing the intensity that had been heaped onto his chest for longer than just his precarious cling to an unforgiving cliff.

"You hit?"

"No. Blew right by me. But I was so sure it was gonna hit him that I lunged forward to take it for Andy, then I started down the cliff instead, the hard way. Andy all right?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

A couple of more breaths until the fear could be pushed out of his parted lips. Well, the fear of falling, anyway. Jess still had to face the fear of permanently walking away from Slim and Andy.

"Jess."

Expecting what was coming, Jess nodded. "I'll go, Slim. I just… just gotta get on my feet."

He watched Jess struggling to rise. This was what he wanted, wasn't it? No. But this is what was needed, right? It was important to have the kind of life at the ranch where he didn't have to worry about his little brother getting into trouble, or almost being killed. Right? Slim looked toward the heavens. Right?

Well, there was certainly no one agreeing with him. Not even himself.

He reached his hand outward a second time, offering instead of simply grabbing hold. "You're not going anywhere, Jess. Except back to the ranch where you belong."

The reluctance to connect his palm with Slim's was shown on Jess' face, and again in the wobble of his voice. "You mean that, Slim?"

"I do."

Jess started to raise his hand toward Slim's. Maybe it was too early to choose. He hadn't heard that long story that Slim had promised yet. Maybe when it was all spelled out he would wind up at a crossroads, one direction being the ranch, the other pointing toward the Big Open. He had traveled that second route more than any other way that he had taken. Letting the sky be his ceiling, the dirt be his floor, and the horse underneath him be his only friend. That wasn't such a bad life, right?

Jess looked up toward that very ceiling. There didn't seem to be anyone up there agreeing with him. Not even himself.

His fingers going the rest of the way, Jess felt the squeeze take place before Slim put enough power into his muscles to aid Jess' rise. Was everything back to normal? Not at all, but they were getting closer.

And if they were going to get to that place, by walking, talking or a stout shove, they had to get past this one thing first.

"Sherman!"

Slim's hand was refitted with his gun. "I have to go meet him, Jess."

He looked down toward the ridge's feet. Dawn had cast just enough light to see Bailey Brown's legs straddled over his dead brother. But even if the colors around Jess were nothing but the shade of sin, he would still be able to see the lust for revenge boiling off of Bailey's body. Maybe Slim was emitting some of his own.

Jess shifted his blue back to the man beside him, standing in a similar stance as what was below. "Slim…"

"I'll be all right, Jess."

"You shouldn't have to fight my battles."

"I put you in this position, Jess, and so I'll be the one to get you out." Slim turned, pointing to the dark hole behind Jonesy and Andy. "All of you stay in the cave until this is over."

The wait was only as long as it took for Slim's body to be hidden by a boulder. Jess looked to Andy, whose head swung toward Jonesy, who tipped his hat toward Jess. And then each shoulder was given a shrug.

Jess was the voice for all three tongues. "Dadgum if I'm gonna stay in this cave. I'm going down there."

"Me too," Andy said, his stride already in a match with Jess'.

Turning, Jess' finger was in a point, his mouth trying to form what was shouting on the inside of his head, or at least what he figured Slim would be telling a younger brother right about now, but that part couldn't take the journey from head to lips. "Just make sure you stay outta sight."

"I'll keep my hand on him, Jess." Jonesy gave a promising nod. "I don't want reason for Slim to skin all of us."

Andy's eyes found the man, the real man responsible for this. "Just that ratty Bailey Brown."

.:.

He took the last step onto level ground, his hands content at his sides. To get him past all of the precarious rocks in his sideways path, Slim had to connect pistol with leather. But now that he was here, maybe that was the best place for it to be. A man didn't enter a gunfight with it drawn, did he?

Slim gave his own answer and shook his head.

Bailey's hand pulled away from the still frame, the jerking of his body upright was the immediate hardening of his stance. And then his eyes, with almost the same potency of the bullets in his gun, connected to Slim's. "Looks like we've got some settling to do."

"Could very well be."

Bailey flung a finger at his brother. "There's no question at all. You killed Scottie."

"And you tried to do the same with Jess. Multiple times if my count was right. But I'll skip all the bullets thrown overnight. The only one I'm interested in is the one that was aimed at his back. I'd imagine it belonged to you."

"You guessed right, Sherman. But why do you care? I thought Harper was dead to you."

He was built like stone, or like every gunfighter that was standing across from another. "You thought wrong."

"Your head is just as full of squirrels as Jonesy!"

"You know, Bailey, I'll take that as a compliment. But there's nothing in me to offer one in return. You're going to pay for what you did to Jess. Either by eating some lead or going behind bars. Your choice."

"Lead. Because I know I'll win. You won't be walking away from here, Sherman."

Now Slim's voice took on a professional's tone. "We'll see."

Bailey might have put it right in front of him with a boastful slap against his chest, but it didn't parade around in Slim's mind how good Bailey Brown was with his iron. Jess beat him, sure, but it wasn't only Jess that had knocked Slim out of the contest. He had lost to both of them. And there was more in this potential fight than who could hit their target the fastest. There was something inside of each man, a burning desire, but even in this, Slim was outmatched. Scottie was dead. Jess was not. The pendulum was swaying hard in Bailey's direction no matter which way was being looked at.

But details of this caliber weren't going to stop him. Bailey Brown was going to see the business end of Slim's gun, even if Slim became victim of the same.

When Bailey started moving, as if it were by their own volition, Slim felt his legs do the same. Circling each other, hands hovering at just the right distance over their pistols, the three onlookers had the same astonished part to their lips. Slim wasn't just an image of a gunfighter, he was the epitome of Jess Harper.

The man that wore that specific title stepped away from the others, ready to make his own stand against Bailey if Slim's gun hand couldn't match the rest of his appearance. But Jess' gun wouldn't need to see anything but leather.

The opposing hand making his flash, Slim's was just as quick to follow.

The booms reduced to an echo, Slim felt the clip against his arm. Dropping into the dirt to avoid a more direct line with his heart, the hard ground shook his entire frame, increasing the pain as the slice widened enough to spurt blood. A second later there was something else spewing upward, as dirt was kicked into his face when Bailey unloaded another that came within inches of being Slim's breakfast.

It wasn't a clear shot in front of him, but Slim knew he had to take it or there wouldn't be a chance for another. Squeezing the trigger, Slim watched the body rock backward with the hit, and then the gun hand became emptied to clutch the rapid spurt of blood.

Slowly rising to his knees, Slim kept the gun at a precise aim, and then connected his boots to the ground. From the back corner of his mind, Slim saw the finger of Mort Cory, changing directions so that the winning point was no longer aimed at Jess, but Slim. Apparently someone else envisioned the same.

"Wow!" Andy's hand slapped against his thigh. "Slim, you're just as good as Jess!"

Slim abruptly turned. "Where'd you come from?"

Jonesy placed both hands against the smaller shoulders beside him. "We watched from a safe distance, Slim."

"It was kinda my idea," Jess said, finishing his approach all the way to Bailey's side. "You got him, Slim. I didn't think it could be done. You hit bad?"

His hand parted the cut, not deep enough to get out needle and thread. "No."

"I can't believe it, Slim. You really beat Bailey Brown." Jess' mouth tilted upward. "Does that mean you can beat me now?"

"Well, he did strike first," Slim said, finishing the knot around his arm by tugging on the loose end of his kerchief with his teeth.

"But it's who finishes it that counts."

"Yeah." Slim's eyes stayed latched with Jess, even though his blues were focused on the man in the dirt. There was something else that Slim needed to finish. And if counts had the right measurement, this upcoming end was going to matter far more. "Jonesy, would you please take Andy to the horses. I'd like to talk with Jess alone."

"But Slim…"

"You heard him, Andy. Let's go. The walk on flat ground will make my back forgive me for all the roughhousing I've been doing with it."

His cheeks taking on the rosy hue of anger, Andy opened his mouth, the protest so close that he could taste the venom on his tongue, but he wouldn't get past the first spit. Something was different in Slim. That light that he had noticed being gone in his brother had returned. And if Andy's own hopeful spark wasn't playing a trick, that light was even brighter. He didn't want to, but Andy walked away with Jonesy, both of them smiling.

"I'm sorry, Jess."

He found Slim's eyes quickly. For some men, that word didn't even belong in their vocabulary. But coming from Slim, it wasn't just a phrase, but a feeling. And Jess wasn't empty of emotions. He felt gratitude, encouragement, peace, renewal, and some that he wouldn't have been able to pinpoint or describe within his range of vocabulary. While Jess didn't shirk them, he actually welcomed their arrival. But where it came to expressing them? No. He hid them all, but one.

Jess shuffled one boot against the dirt. "It's all right, Slim."

"No. I'm not going to just slap you on the back and get one in return, forgetting what's happened between us. I made a big mistake, Jess."

"You just thought you were doing right by Andy. I don't blame you for kicking me out. I reckon if our roles woulda been reversed, I woulda done more than just tell you to get."

Slim took his honesty the entire distance. "I thought about it."

"Just goes to show that you've got an even temper like me." Jess smiled, the lilt growing when he got the same out of Slim's mouth.

"Yeah."

Jess sighed, and the lift of his lips died. "But Slim…"

"What?"

"You were right about me. I can't remember what words you used, but your description wasn't wrong."

"You mean you being high-spirited, heavy-handed, strong-worded and cigarette-scented?"

He nodded. "And you were also right that I ain't gonna really change. I'll eventually toss the smokes out, the cravings are getting less, but the rest of me's always gonna be that way."

"There's nothing wrong with who you are, Jess. I was the one with the problem. I was jealous, afraid, and angry. Right now if I were to tell Andy which one of us to look up to the most, I'd tell him to take his eyes away from me. You're the one that I'd rather have him be."

"Dadgum. Do you mean that I look better than you do right now?"

"You sure do."

"Then I reckon we oughta go find us a coupla ladies, that way when one snubs you, I can walk down Front Street with a coupla beauties on my arms while you're left smoldering in the dust."

He had to tip his head back to laugh, as the rolls going through Slim's body were too much to be contained by just chuckling. How did Jess always know the right thing to say to shift the tide to one that was calmer? There must be something magical about Jess Harper. Or maybe he was just downright crazy.

"You're unbelievable, Jess."

"I reckon I've had that revelation a time or two myself."

His laughter finding its end, Slim raised his head. The sound of hooves was in multiples. "Uh-oh."

Jess matched his glance, but where Slim showed understanding, Jess' brows could only form confusion. "Who's coming?"

"Probably a posse." But the reason behind that incoming group would have to wait. Slim couldn't be hauled off to jail until every part of this ordeal was uncovered. And this blanket was a heavy one. "Jess. Why did you say I shot you?"

Jess lowered his head until all that could be seen was the ground below. "I know you didn't Slim. I'm sorry."

"But that doesn't explain why you told Jonesy that I did."

"I wasn't hearing Jonesy, Slim. I was hearing you. It was kinda like what happened at the cliff awhile ago, except in my dream you didn't save me."

Slim felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. And in his backside. But by the way his chest was constricting, maybe a boot was pummeling his entire frame.

He couldn't stop the gasp. "Did I go so far as to let you fall, and die?"

"I dunno. I lost the image to darkness, unconsciousness, whichever. All I remember is feeling the loss, the same as I went through the day Bannister raided, because I'd lost another brother."

So that was the emotion Slim had carried with him since all of this started. Loss. Oh, he knew the pain of letting a loved one go. A simple thought about his parents brought the waves to rush over his being all over again. But a brother's loss was a new one. The knife's blade hadn't just taken a slice out of his flesh, but slammed right into his heart.

"I'm sorry, Jess. Can it ever be fixed, I mean, what we had before, or is the loss permanent?"

"You told me to go back to the ranch, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then what was gone has come home." Jess' hand turned into a point. "Speaking of coming. That posse looks like it's aiming right for us."

"For me."

"What'd you do?"

"I'll let the sheriff explain it. Come on, I don't want to have to repeat everything to Jonesy and Andy."

The four of them stood still, waiting out the last few moments together until Sheriff Cory called a halt to the posse's advancement. Leaving his horse, Mort strode the short distance between mount and men, not sure whether to shake a finger, a fist, or just shake Slim altogether.

"There you are, Slim. The last thing I ever expected was to come back to town and find that you had escaped from jail. I don't know who's most to blame here, but if I had to choose, I figure it'd be you, Jess. Wait a minute. Jess! You're supposed to be dead!"

"Well, I reckon since I ain't never heard of a ghost having flesh and bones, I must be alive all right."

Mort's hands went wide. "I don't understand."

"We had him hidden for awhile, Sheriff," Jonesy explained, giving a nod to the two bodies not far away. "Those two Browns had some evil intent for Jess, here."

"Bailey admitted that he shot Jess."

Jonesy jumped back into the circle in case Slim's word wouldn't be enough. "But in case you start scratching your head about Cheyenne, I saw the wound. Definitely was there longer than the morning Jess was supposed to have been shot."

"I guess that makes sense, now, but who killed Bailey?"

"I did."

Andy clapped his hands together, the excitement still in full bloom across his face. "In a real gunfight, too! You should've seen it, Sheriff Cory!"

Mort's eyes shifted from Andy to Slim. "And Scottie?"

"My bullet took him out, too. They both were tossing way too much lead up Jess' way when I arrived."

"This is kind of difficult to assess when dead men are the only other witnesses."

"That's not so, Mort," Jonesy said, putting his hands against Jess' back. "All you need is right here. You saw Jess' jacket, right? Where was the bullet hole? Bulls-eye center, right? But look it here. This is where Jess really was shot. Now who else is gonna go through that much trouble to convince everyone that Jess was killed other than a pair of sidewinders like the Browns? And if you need any more proof, what would Jess have been doing wearing his jacket when it's never below the temperature of sin?"

"You make more than a valid point, Jonesy. All right, Slim. I never figured you were guilty in the first place. And since Jess isn't dead at all, then I guess there's no point to drag you back to down, considering there's no need for a murder trial."

"You mean I'm free, even though I busted out of jail?"

"What bust? From the way I looked at it, you must've used the key."

"I might've." The glance he exchanged with Jonesy could have been a tell-all, if it wasn't a friend doing the studying. "Yeah."

"I guess all I can do is let it slide, Slim. But if you two don't stop causing ruckuses, I just might find evidence that sticks so hard to your hides that the both of you will be roommates in my jail room for a long, long time."

Slim put his arm around Jess' shoulders. "We'll be roommates either way you look at it, Mort. Jess is staying at the ranch for a long, long time."

The wave took the sheriff and his men away, the dust cloud all that remained when Andy grabbed Slim by the wrist. "You mean you aren't sending Jess away anymore?"

"No."

"Oh, Slim!" His leap took him upward, caught in a brotherly hug.

"All right, Andy. Don't squeeze my neck off," Slim said, returning Andy back to the ground, but his eyes had to follow Jess, slightly bent with laughter. "What's so funny, Jess?"

"Dadgum, Slim. You really broke outta jail?"

"I did."

"And you had a posse on your tail?"

"I did."

"And you got into a gunfight?"

"I did."

"What does that say to you, Slim?"

"That I'm a worse influence than you."

Jonesy shook his head. "That's not it at all. Why, you two are more alike than you think. Sure, Slim likes to show that his chin's a bit smoother, but when it comes down to it, you're the same."

Jess smiled. "I reckon I can live with that."

"I reckon we all get to. Come on, we better get going home. Jess might like to pretend he's a swoon-worthy hero, but from what I see he's about to drop."

"I've made it out okay, Jonesy. All this action's made me feel better than before I was shot. Dadgum, Andy, you shoulda shook me awake a long time ago."

"Looks like," Andy answered, wrapping his arm around Jess' waist as they walked toward Andy's mount.

Slim followed the pair with his eyes, a genuine pair that didn't just belonge together, but belonged to him. "I guess I really do have two brothers."

"Yeah. If what we just went through is any indication, not even a stubborn, thinks-he-knows-more'n-me rancher could change that."

He could thank the Almighty for planning that, clear back in the womb-knitting days. "Remind me to get on my knees later."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

Because what he would say to the Lord later was already written on his heart.