Chapter Forty-two

Dadgum ricochet.

Jess had been close to the canyon's rocky entrance as he moved toward Andy, and the bullet that had skimmed his hand, leaving a deep groove across his palm, had then ricocheted against the wall of rock and hit him again. By some stroke of luck, like the wound to his hand, this one on his left side had no bullet lodged in it. It was much nastier than the hand injury, but at least there was no need to have a slug dug out, with it having gone through the flesh at an angle along his ribs. But by tearing into, through, and out tissue, it had caused a much more serious injury than the severe crease across his palm.

He hoped it had not done too much damage. At least blood wasn't pumping too fast out of his side.

He removed his bandana from his neck, pulled his shirt up, and pressed the wadded-up cloth hard against his side. A moan of misery escaped as he tried to ignore the stars flashing in his view and keep hold of consciousness.

When he felt that the bleeding had slowed, he braced the canteen between his knees and opened it with his right hand. Years ago, the old doctor who had given him that instrument for removing his own stitches had explained to him about the need to avoid going into shock, and how water would help prevent it by helping to keep blood volume up. Desperately thirsty, he gulped half of the canteen's contents without stopping.

Then he pulled the bandanas from each wound and poured some water to cleanse them as well as he could for the moment. After taking a good look at both wounds, at least as good a look as he could get at the one on his side, he replaced the bandanas, tightly wrapping his hand with one and pressing the other firmly to side.

Heart pounding, he struggled shakily to his feet. He stumbled to his gun, lying where Andy had dropped it. Very thankful that the boy had not hurt himself, Jess carefully unloaded the remaining bullets to ensure against accidental firing and shoved them into his pocket. Wishing he hadn't tied Traveller so far away, he plodded out of the canyon and back to his horse.

Jess knew he needed doctoring, probably stitches, at least on his side. But he ruled out going into Laramie. He knew Doc Hanson was a good friend of both Slim and Jonesy. If he sought help there, the doctor would surely tell what he knew, and Andy would lose Chief.

Never breaks his word. If he said it, he'll do it.

"Good ol' Hardrock and his rules."

He figured he had been able to convince Andy to keep quiet about his hand. But if Andy would become aware of this other wound and how bad he was hurt, he was sure the kid would tell Slim and Jonesy everything. Even though Andy's shooting him was an accident, the taking of the gun and coming out here to practice with it were well planned. Jess knew Slim would carry through with his threat. Andy would lose his beloved horse. And he might even lose his standing with his big brother. Slim was already mighty strict. If he felt he couldn't fully trust Andy to stay out of trouble, it might seriously damage the brothers' relationship. Still gasping breaths, Jess leaned up against Traveller.

"Can't let none of that happen… can we, Trav?"

He hung Andy's canteen over the horn and pulled himself into the saddle. It took a lot of effort, and Jess grimaced and groaned at the increased ache in his side as he settled onto the bay's back. "We gotta go git what I need to tend these wounds myself, boy."

He heeled Traveller into a trot toward the ranch house. He only hoped he could keep from passing out.

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Andy had let Chief have some water, then unsaddled and brushed him, occasionally wiping his own tears as he cared for the horse. Eventually, he gave Chief some further watering and feeding.

Needing to keep his mind and hands occupied with some activity, and wanting to avoid giving Slim even more reason to be angry with him, Andy got busy on soaping the harnesses. He continually glanced toward the path Jess should be riding down, worried at how long it was taking. He was giving consideration to going back to the canyon when, finally, he was able to let out a big sigh of relief when Traveller came into sight.

Realizing Andy could see him now, Jess forced his exhausted body to straighten up. He let go of the saddlehorn he had been clinging to and tried to look strong. He worried he might still be wavering a bit and was thankful he at least had remained conscious.

Andy ran to meet him and hurried alongside as Traveller entered the ranch yard. Jess rode over near to the barn before he reined to a stop. Even before dismounting, he started issuing orders to Andy.

"I want you to git a gunnysack, Andy. Gather this stuff and put it in the sack… change of clothes for me, some food, rolls of bandages, soap and a couple towels, and that bottle of whiskey Jonesy keeps for medical purposes."

Andy's eyes were wide with fear for his friend. His voice trembled, "But… How are ya doing, Jess?"

"I'm fine."

Jess' words were low, steady, and strong. But something in his voice still seemed worrisome to Andy, sounding like Jess was hurting really bad. Before he could ask anything further, Jess reminded him of his instructions.

"Go on now, and do like I tell ya."

After Andy entered the house, Jess dismounted, almost falling out of the saddle, and trudged into the barn, where he had left his jacket hanging days ago. He had not needed it in the recent warm Indian summer days of mid September. He slipped it on to cover the blood on his shirt that was trailing down below the vest now. He had managed to stay turned away enough that Andy hadn't noticed it, but he couldn't count on keeping things that way.

He went into the house and got a paper and pencil from Slim's desk, collapsing onto a chair at the dining table, as Andy rushed to gather the items Jess wanted. The boy brought the filled sack to the table, where he saw Jess was busy writing a note of some kind.

"Andy, go take care of Trav for me. Give him some water, but be careful, not too much. Don't wanna colic him. Then git a sack of oats ready. Tie it to my saddle, along with this sack here that ya got ready for me. Throw an extra blanket in my bedroll and tie it on Trav. Make sure both canteens are full. Yours and mine."

"Jess, you don't look to be in any shape to travel. Where are ya thinking of going?"

"I'm just gonna camp out for a couple days, near the herd by the canyons prob'ly. Give me a chance to heal up some, till I can put my glove on so's nobody'll see this hand. I'm leavin' a note for Jonesy to explain it all. You just go along with everything the note says, ya hear? Remember, don't breathe a word 'bout what happened today."

Andy frowned with anxiety and guilt. Jess was hurt and should be taken care of right here, maybe even at Doc Hanson's in town.

"But, Jess, you shouldn't… I mean, we can… I want to help with…" he stammered.

"You can help by doin' what I say. Now go on, while I finish up this note."

Andy completed the tasks required and had everything ready when Jess came from the house and handed him the folded paper.

"Give that to Jonesy soon as he gits here. Let the note do the explainin'. And remember, you just go along with it. You got that?"

"Yeah. I guess."

Andy watched with great anxiety as Jess, holding his left hand protectively against his chest, mounted up. From the way Jess was gritting his teeth, it seemed mounting was causing him a lot of pain, which Andy didn't understand, since he was holding the saddlehorn with his right hand. That graze to his left hand must be even worse than what it originally looked, since it was hurting this bad. Andy felt even more shame and concern.

"Jess, why don't ya stay here and let me tend to that hand for ya?"

"I can tend it myself. I'll be back in a couple a' days, and nobody'll ever know anything happened. Then you and Chief will be all set. Okay?"

With saddened eyes, Andy nodded. That Jess would do this for him made him feel both cared for and guilty.

"Be ready for the four o'clock. Sorry I can't be here to help," Jess said, his voice strained and gruff.

And with that, he rode away, leaving Andy staring after him with gratitude, respect, and brotherly love.

He opened the note and read it.

Jonesy
I have to tend to some leg injuries on two of the cows before I can herd them. Camping out near the cattle. Will also take care of some fence up north like Slim wants. Hope to be back the day after he comes home.
Jess

"Injuries to two cows," Andy murmured. He sure hoped Jess wasn't making that up. He didn't want any cows to be hurt, but he couldn't stand the idea of Jess lying on account of him. That would only add to his guilt. And Jess would know that. So Andy guessed he should assume Jess's note was the truth. After a couple of days of healing for both the cows and Jess, the camping out with the herd would be over, and Jess would return.

Andy was baffled, though, about how Jess would tend to the cows when his hand was so badly hurt. But his hero could manage a way to do that. Jess was real good with tending to the stock. All the animals seemed to settle right down when Jess was around, like they knew he was there to help them. And even if he didn't seem able to use his hand at all right now, it might be a whole lot better in a couple of hours after he tended to it. Andy prayed that Jess could do just as well at helping himself as he did helping the animals, and get that hand healed real fast.

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Slim wrapped up his business deal in Pinetown, arranging to buy a bull and a few heifers that he and Jess would move to the ranch next week or so. When he arrived in Laramie late afternoon on his way back home, he took the time to stop into the Stockmen's for a beer. He was leaning against the bar enjoying his drink when Jenson, the stage driver, crowded up alongside him.

"I don't like doing your job for ya, Sherman."

Slim eyed him with annoyance. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about having to help your kid brother change teams day before yesterday. I think you owe me some of your stageline pay for doing work you're being paid to take care of."

Slim frowned in puzzlement. "Wasn't Jess there to change the team?"

"No he wasn't. And he wasn't there yesterday either. The old man was though. So at least I didn't have to do Sherman Station's work then. I didn't drive today, or I might have had to pitch in again. You owe me a big apology, Sherman. For the team changing… and everything else you did to me."

Now Slim was getting riled. "I didn't do anything to you. Belinda left you because of who you are, not who I am."

"She woulda married me, if you'd a' stayed out of it! But you kept me from getting that manager job in the Cheyenne office. She wouldn't have me then, being as I got no prospects for a higher wage. And just a week later, I saw her going into the dance with you. Means you made sure I was cut out of the running for that job, so you could have her. You'd been with her all along."

"I didn't cut you out of that job. The superintendent decided you weren't qualified. And I never spent time with Belinda until after she ended things with you. The only one who's been out of line, Jenson, is you. Now, get out of my way."

As Slim started for the door, Jenson swung with his right fist. Slim ducked. When he rose, he slammed a haymaker into the loudmouth that landed him flat on his back.

Jenson glared up from the floor, blood trailing down his chin.

"You'll pay for this, Sherman." The stage driver swiped his hand across his chin and shook his blood-covered fist at Slim. "This and everything else."

Slim simply threw a scornful look at the man and headed home, wondering why things hadn't gone according to plan for Jess changing the team.

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At the ranch, Jonesy showed him the note. Everything seemed understandable.

Slim figured Jess must have tended the cows' legs, and either moved them into the herd or had them boxed in somewhere until they were able to be moved along. He must have spent a night or two there before going on to take care of the north fence. But when Jess didn't return home by the time the nine o'clock pulled out the next morning, Slim decided to check on things.

First, he rode to the south canyons, since it was a short distance. He found no sign of strays being rounded up and boxed in while Jess tended them, although he did see several scattered over the area. Maybe Jess had rounded them up previously, but apparently never moved them into the herd, and they wandered off again. There also was no evidence of any cattle being injured. And no sign of any campsite. Or Jess. Slim did a quick roundup of the strays and headed them into the herd.

Next, he rode to the north grazeland. Again, no sign of Jess. And the fences had not been repaired. There appeared to be an attempt at fixing one, and a shoddy job it was. Now a section had sagged low, allowing several mangy steers from the nearby Dixon ranch to make their way over onto Sherman land, enjoying─and destroying─some of the grass there.

What the heck had Jess been doing over the course of three days? And where was he now? Slim felt a tinge of worry. Could he be lying somewhere with a broken leg? Nah, he discarded that worry. Jess was so tough he would make his way home even if injured. Was it possible that dreaded day had come when Jess decided to light out? Nope. Even if he made up his mind to leave, he'd tell Slim first. Besides, he had wages coming. He wouldn't go without collecting them. The way he hadn't gotten his work done was worrisome, but it was too late in the day for more looking, especially when he had no idea where to look. He'd head back home, and maybe find Jess had beat him there.

Slim cut back across the north range to go home. As he neared the west line shack, he saw a familiar unsaddled bay in the small fenced pasture next to it. He rode over to the cabin and tethered Alamo. Noting the saddle that appeared to have just been dumped beside the door, he wondered what was going on. It sure wasn't like Jess not to take care of his gear. Now alternating between concerned and aggravated, Slim thrust the door open.

At the sound, Jess immediately whirled around from where he stood and lurched forward, catching himself on the table or he likely would have fallen. His shirt was untucked and half-buttoned, from the bottom to mid-chest. His hair was disheveled, and he obviously hadn't shaved in days. A towel hung over his left wrist and hand, apparently in preparation to wash up. Certainly needed, Slim thought, as the smell of whiskey wafted from him and permeated the small building. An open, nearly empty bottle sat on the table.

Slim took in the scene, speechless.

Jess, surprised, stood swaying and blinking. "I didn't know… you were back." His voice trailed away, as he looked at the floor.

Staring at the face flushed red from drink, Slim stood frozen, shocked to find out what his new hired hand was really like. In all the time that Jess had been with them at the ranch─nearly a month now─he had never seen the man drunk. In fact, Jess never had more than one drink anytime the two of them had gone into town to the Stockmen's. He had hidden his true self pretty darn well. For the past month, Jess must have done his drinking during days when they weren't working together. Slim's temper flared.

"You been on a three-day bender, Jess? Is this what I'm paying you for?"

It had been three days? In his pain and fever, Jess had lost track of time. He raised his eyes to look at his boss. "That ain't the way of it, Slim."

"Oh, no? Then you want to explain to me why you're reeking of whiskey and can hardly stay on your feet? Do you have an excuse for why you let strays wander off and left fences mended so poorly, or not at all? Why you never showed up to help Andy with the team change?"

Jess said nothing.

"Well? You don't have anything to say for yourself?"

"I'll git busy on things in the mornin'." Jess sank down onto a chair at the table.

Slim was livid. Jess offered no explanation. No apology. No remorse for slacking for three days and letting his responsibility to the ranch go. No regret for possibly making Slim look bad to the stageline boss. He had trusted a few ranch and relay operations to Jess' care for just a couple of days, and Jess had let him down. From Slim's viewpoint, somewhat exaggerated by his current state of anger and disappointment, Jess had put Sherman Ranch's livelihood and the relay contract at risk.

The Texan had only been with him for one month, and Slim realized now, he had been right to ask Marshal Cochran to look into the man's past. Jess Harper was not a ranch hand. He was a gun hand. And a drunk.

"No, Jess." Slim's voice was cold, the tone harsh. "You won't be getting busy on anything here at my ranch. Nothing except riding out. I'll go back to the house and gather up your things and get the wages for your time—obviously not for your work—and I'll bring it all to you. You can spend the night here in the line shack, but tomorrow, you're gone. Understand?"

Jess stared up at him, in a pain and fever induced daze, trying to comprehend what all was happening. Trying to stay conscious and not fall out of the chair. "You're firin' me?"

"Can you give me a good reason why I shouldn't? An excuse for a hired man to be in this drunken condition? An explanation for why the little work you did while I was gone was done so bad there's Dixon cattle destroying my land?"

Jess swallowed hard. No, he couldn't give any reasons or excuses.

Not without explaining why he was in the shape he was in. Why he smelled of whiskey accidentally spilled on his clothes when he tried, with shaking hands, to clean wounds Slim couldn't see. Why his face was red with fever because one of those wounds, the one on his side, was infected. Why he couldn't stay on his feet because he was sick as a dog and in terrible pain. Why he had tried to take care of the strays and tried to mend the fences, almost one-handed, but ended up unconscious out in a field twice. He had barely managed to pull himself onto Traveller, and had to practically drag himself from his horse to the door of the cabin here. Another night of camping out on his bedroll, and he was worried what his condition would have been. He needed this shelter, and had barely made it here before he passed out again.

Jess couldn't explain, because of what his explanation would lead to. Andy's words rang in his memory.

"He told me if I ever do something bad, he'll take Chief and sell him."
"If Chief was taken away from me and sold… well, I'd just die. I really would, Jess. I love this horse."
"Oh, he means it all right. Slim always follows through on anything he says. Never breaks his word. If he said it, he'll do it."

If Andy would find out Jess had been fired, Jess was sure he would come clean and confess. And then, he and his horse would be parted, making both boy and animal miserable, and causing a rift between the two brothers who were finally building a strong bond. And if Andy found out that bullet he had accidentally let fly had ricocheted and hit Jess in the side, the kid would be racked with more guilt than he could handle. In his mind's eye, Jess could still see the boy shaking, still see the shame and guilt in those twelve-year-old eyes just from viewing the wound to his hand, a much less serious wound than the other.

"I understand why you have to do it, Slim. But do me a favor, would ya? Don't tell Andy you fired me. Just tell him I up and rode out. It'd be better to have him thinkin' I just changed my mind 'bout ranchin'. Not that I'm a… that I couldn't do the job."

"I won't lie for you, Jess."

"It ain't lyin' to tell him I rode out. That's what I'm gonna do, ain't it? And I ain't askin' for myself. I wanna spare Andy feelin' worse than he has to."

Slim thought about it. Andy was going to be upset enough to find Jess gone. It would be even worse for him to find out what the man was really like. It wasn't easy for a boy to deal with seeing his hero fall from the pedestal.

"All right. That's what I'll tell Andy in the morning. That you just left. I'll go get everything and bring it back here yet tonight. Be ready to clear out come dawn."

Jess nodded.

Slim turned toward the door. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob and looked back at Jess. The Texan sat slumped in the chair, his gaze aimed down toward the floor. Slim had begun to think of Jess as a friend he could trust. Obviously, I sure was mistaken about that.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out, Jess." Despite his anger, Slim was feeling a loss. He had held high hopes for Jess, as a ranch hand and, even more importantly, as a friend. "You know… if you would've had an explanation for what's been going on here and would have asked for another chance… I would have given it to ya."

Jess felt a tightening in his chest. Oh, how he had wished for it to work out too. Had gotten his hopes up mighty high. He had actually thought maybe, just maybe, he could settle down here in Laramie, with the Shermans as good friends, and start a new life. He knew Slim didn't realize it was absolutely killing him to lose it all. And to know what they would think of him now, how they would remember him.

Staring at his boots, he missed the fact that the melancholy in his own eyes was actually in Slim's eyes too.

Slim sighed. "I guess you want the bottle more than you want that chance."

When Jess said nothing further, never even looked up, Slim figured the friendship and home that he, Andy, and Jonesy had tried to provide for the drifter hadn't really meant much to him after all. Slim stepped outside, pulling the door shut with a bang.

Squeezing his eyes closed, Jess flinched at the sound of the door slamming on his future.