Epilogue

"Wahooooo!"

Jess' head rose away from the pillow, watching as Slim's chest was getting a pummeling. Wincing before the same could land on him, Jess caught Slim's amused blue. "There an Indian uprising or something?"

"Nope," Andy answered, leaping off of Slim's bed to change directions, but before Andy could spring, Jess' hands reached up to grab him. "Aw, Jess. You're no fun."

"Well then what is it?"

"Today's the Sunday Shoot in Laramie."

Jess gave the tousled head an extra tousle. "Oh yeah. What's it got now, pies and cakes and fudge, and that's just the sweeter side, and then fellows like Slim and me duke it out for the top shot, am I right?"

"You bet, Jess. And I can't wait to go, so get up, both of you."

"Except we're not going."

Every head in the room spun toward Jonesy. Every voice implored in unison. "What?"

Andy was the first to offer the longest version. "What do you mean we're not going?"

"Exactly what I said. We're not going."

"But why?" Jess gave his best impression of an adult man's pout. "You even baked a passel of pies."

"Those pies I made are for us. Right here. You see, I've been doing some thinking. All that froo-fer-all that went on after Jubilee a couple months back was because somebody in this room turned a bit green that day. So, we're not gonna risk the little monster's return, and we're gonna have our own celebration right here."

Jess shrugged. "I'm happy as long as there's food."

"Figured you would be."

Jess quirked an eyebrow up. "Got anything other than pie?"

"Might be some chicken out there to fry."

"Then I ain't got any complaints. You, Slim?"

His hand ran over the back of his neck. "Well, only if Andy doesn't mind."

"Gosh, Slim. All I wanted was to see you and Jess shoot today. What's it matter where it happens, as long as you both do it straight?"

Mmm. How sweet this felt, that brotherly swell in his chest. Slim even took in a deeper breath so that it puffed even higher. And the eye-roll that Jonesy gave him didn't tamp it down even a mite, for Andy hadn't just included him alongside Jess, but had included him alongside the best.

Slim clapped his hands together. "Then let's get to it!"

"Wahooooo!"

Jess' finger went into his ear. "Somehow I get the feeling an Indian uprising would be quieter."

But there was nothing quiet about the afternoon's reports. Rifles blasting, smoke curling, boy jumping in the air with each loud staccato and its subsequent strike, Slim and Jess were an even match. Pointing at targets that Jonesy kept pushing farther away, the only part that would see obliteration was the center. Minus one little hole that Jonesy was trying to wipe away with his thumb as he looked over what was supposed to be the final round.

Slim tucked his rifle underneath his arm. "All right, Jonesy, who won?"

"I did."

"Huh?"

"You heard right. Me, on account if I say who made one miss, then the rematches would be going on all day. And my ears burn too much to listen to another round of Andy's circus dialect, not to mention the rifle's roaring nonstop."

"But we have to call it something," said Slim, looking toward Jess for his input.

"How about a tie?"

Slim lifted one shoulder, the opposite side was his half-smile. "Works with me."

"Sure, 'cause you know you're the one that made the miss."

Slim's boots were quick to become toe-to-toe with Jess'. "Wanna bet?"

"Now, now, ease up on the backs ands forths. See, this is why I'm the winner here today, because I got good enough sense to know when to call it quits. Come on, food's awaiting."

"Now that sounds like the real winner. Say, Slim, wanna see who can down the most pie slices?"

Andy's finger went into his chest. "It'll be me."

Jess raised Andy from the ground. "You think so, huh, partner? That's gonna be hard to do when I've got the appetite of a bear today."

"I thought you had that every day," Jonesy said, but before a vocal protest could be slung his way, the attentions that had been set on one suddenly shifted to another.

Slim's eyes narrowed toward the man on horseback, obvious by the way that the reins were being pulled that the direction was where they were standing. "A stranger?"

"No, he looks familiar. I think." It was the horse that gave Jonesy's brain the biggest twitch. Solid black, except for the four white socks. Tall in the saddle and out of it, light hair, broad shoulders. The only difference was that he was wearing a beard. "Why that's…"

Slim pulled his eyes away from the stranger long enough to look at Jonesy. "Who, Jonesy?"

"I don't know, I never got his name."

"But you know him?"

"I know him. I almost gave him a month's pay."

If the stranger wasn't a couple of breaths away, Slim would have puffed out a long exaggerated breath. "Do you ever give a straight answer?"

"All the time. Just depends on what kind of ears is listening."

Slim waited for the dismount before offering out his hand. "Howdy."

"Afternoon, Gents. I heard the shooting and wanted to come take a look in case there was trouble."

"No trouble. Just out target-shooting. I'm Slim Sherman, my partner here, Jess Harper. And that's my brother Andy, my foreman, Jonesy."

"My name's Dean Madison," he said, first lowering his head to view the ground before bringing his gaze back upward to meet Slim's. "I might as well just come out and say this. I took some money awhile back from Scottie Brown to do a job. I couldn't go through with it."

"What couldn't you go through with?"

Madison turned to find the other shade of blue. "Burying Jess Harper."

Jess' steps brought him to be equal with Slim's. "You mean you hired out to gun me down?"

"Not that at all. Just bury you."

"I think you need to lay out everything, Mister," Slim said, his bristles just as sharp as his partner beside him.

"I knew Scottie from some time back when we did some, well, let's just say we were up to no good together. Not buddies, but close enough to being friends to have some trust in one another. The way Scottie told it when he hired me, Bailey shot Harper, figured he killed him but they couldn't find the body. I was to dress up like a preacher and tell the Laramie sheriff that I found Harper's body and buried him so the Browns could be cleared of the blame. Well, the truth is, after I finished with the charade, I did find Harper's body, lying in a dried up creek bed. But I couldn't bury him. He was alive. Calling out for you, Mr. Sherman. He was weak, I'm not even sure he was conscious, but his voice, and the way he was calling for Slim. I knew it was something that would haunt me for the rest of my life because it seemed that Harper was being haunted by that name himself."

"What'd you do then?"

"Well, I remembered riding past a rundown cabin, so I took him there. Figured the Browns wouldn't be looking inside buildings for Harper, but out in open country. I knew he'd die if the bullet wasn't taken out. I've done it a few times. Not an expert, but I figured he was a goner if I didn't. All I aimed to do after that was ride away like I was supposed to. But even that I couldn't do. I didn't ride very far before I came to deliver a message. I figure Jonesy, here, could tell you the rest."

His muscles relaxing, Jess smiled, extending his hand. "You saved my life, Mister."

"Don't thank me, Harper. I reckon there's someone much bigger involved in all of this. Putting that collar around my neck did something to me. I can't shut it out."

"Well, if Moses can answer the call when he did, I reckon you can answer the same."

Madison tipped his hat to Jonesy. "Thanks. I guess I better be on my way."

Watching the black horse with socks disappear over the rise, Jess cocked his head to the side. "You reckon I'm too old to start something new?"

"Uh-oh." Jonesy finished his head shake with a whistle.

"What's that, Jess?"

"Not eating all the fried chicken by myself. I'm starving."

Andy tugged on Jess' arm. "I thought we were gonna have a pie contest?"

"That too. But first I'm gonna eat fried chicken until my belt busts."

Jonesy watched them run toward the house, the two men looking as young as the youngest.

"Well, at least they'll all have the same treatment this time, because by the time they're finished, I'll probably be the only one that comes out of the Sunday Shoot unscathed too. Oh well. I wonder what gossip Mose'll bring from town this time around. I could sure use a good story right about now."