Chapter Forty-four

"I know." Slim's voice was quiet, his brow furrowed in concern.

Jess' eyebrows hiked up. "You already knew I'm hurt? How?"

"Andy told me. He told Jonesy and me everything. About what he did, how you got hurt."

Jess winced. "Aww, dadgum. What'd he go and do that for?"

Slim smiled. Even now, Jess wanted to protect Andy.

"He told us because we needed to know the truth about what he did. And the truth about the kind of man you are. A man who'll do anything to help my brother."

Ever since Jess had admitted he was hurt, his mind had been scrambling to come up with an explanation for his wounds, in order to keep Andy's actions with his gunfighter forty-five secret. But the boy had fessed up. Jess no longer had to try to concoct some story, but now he wondered about Andy and what would happen between the brothers.

Slim pulled a chair from the small table up to the side of the cot and sat down. "Andy told us how bad your hand is. Let me take a look at it."

He took hold of Jess' wrist and carefully loosened the bandage. He turned the hand over and looked at the palm. Frowning, puzzled, he looked up from the wound.

"Jess, this looks… real good. It's healing fine. I can see why it still hurts bad, it's sure a deep graze and it's still awful raw. But it's coming along well. Not infected or anything. You must be taking real good care of it."

Jess nodded.

Slim was baffled. "But then… why? I mean, you seem really sick." He raised his hand to Jess' forehead. "You're mighty feverish." He loosely rewrapped the bandage, intending to replace it when he brought the medical kit in. "But I don't see how this hand could be causing─"

"It ain't my hand that's givin' me trouble."

"Then what is?"

Jess pulled his shirt up on the side, grimacing as a sharp pain stabbed through the wound.

Slim's expression showed his shock and worry. And confusion. Andy had said the gun fired once toward Jess. One bullet. He raised questioning eyes to meet Jess'.

"Ricochet."

"Oh. Dang rocks."

Slim carefully removed the bandage that showed fresh blood and a yellow fluid seeping through. One glimpse and it was easy to see the wound was infected.

"Blazes, Jess. Why didn't you get help with this? You need a doctor. You gall-darned idiot."

Slim immediately went back out to his horse and brought in the sacks of supplies and food. He handed a canteen to Jess, who gratefully guzzled the water as Slim pulled things from the bags and set them on the table.

"I'll fix you up as much as I can. In the morning, we'll go home and see what Jonesy can do for ya."

Home. Another word that reverberated through Jess' mind after Slim spoke it. He'd said it like it was the most natural thing in the world to include Jess in that reference to the Sherman home. And Slim was willing to treat his wounds and take care of him. Other than a doctor he paid, there hadn't been anybody willing to do that for him in a long time. Not since the Kirby family in New Mexico when he was twenty. Slim Sherman was a rare breed of man. Andy and Jonesy were just as special. Despite his pain, a hint of a smile touched Jess' lips. He really had won the best ever jackpot when he landed at this ranch.

Slim continued to describe a plan for what Jess needed. "Then, either Doc Hanson can come out to take a look at ya, or we'll take you to him. While you've been holed up here, have you had anything for the pain, Jess?"

"Only once. Had a couple a' swigs of whiskey when the hurtin' got mighty hard to take. Mostly had to save it for doctorin'. The bottle was less 'n half full when I got it at the house, and I spilled some."

Realizing the misery Jess gone through without help or pain relief, Slim regretted all the more the unjust way he had accused Jess of using all of the whiskey for three straight days of drinking.

He lifted the new bottle he had brought along. "Well, there's plenty for both now. Might help to take the edge off. Better eat something first, so you don't get sick to your stomach."

After a quick snack, a small glass of whiskey, and a little time, Jess was ready for Slim to treat the wounds.

"We'll start with the worst one. Lay down on your right side so I can see it better."

As Jess slowly and painfully maneuvered himself on the cot, Slim lit a lantern and positioned it and the oil lamp to shine on the wound in Jess' side. Then he cleaned his hands with some of the alcohol.

Slim set to work on the wound, mumbling under his breath about contrary ranch hands that have more grit than brains. Jess sweated, clenched his jaws, and occasionally cursed through the cleaning.

Suddenly, Slim stopped. "No wonder."

He stood up and hurriedly turned back to the table and the medical kit Jonesy had sent along, sorting through it until he found what he was looking for, wrapped in a cloth. He brought the instrument and one other item back over to the cot. He sat down and, with a sorrowful expression, looked Jess in the eye.

"I'm sorry, Jess. But just washing this wound and using some alcohol on it isn't gonna be enough."

"Stitches?"

"Well, you likely needed those to begin with. We'll see if the doctor still wants to try 'em this late in the game. No, I'm talking about something else. Obviously you can't look directly into the bullet holes here, the entry and exit wounds. But I can. There's something there. You didn't get everything out by washing it with soap and water or cleaning it with whiskey. What's caught in there is probably causing the infection."

"Bullet? I thought it went through."

"It did. And you're darn lucky it wasn't deep at all. But it looks like it drove something into the wound."

"Then git it out."

"I'll try. I wish we could wait till we could get you to the doctor, but the infection is only gonna get worse till this thing comes out. And you're already so sick. I don't want to take a chance on your fever going even higher."

Jess looked him in the eye. "Quit stallin'."

"It won't be pleasant."

"Don't expect it would."

Slim opened his clenched hand and took a look at the long pair of tweezers.

"You're gonna have to make sure you don't move, Jess. I don't want to cause more damage with this thing if you jerk. I know the wounds and the fever have taken a big toll on ya. Think you can hold still?"

"Still enough."

Slim held the other item from the kit out toward him. "Better bite down on this."

Jess stared at the wedge Jonesy had concocted for such occasions. He pursed his lips and took it from Slim's hand.

"Can ya give me a minute?"

"Sure, Jess."

Slim realized what was going through his friend's mind. Jess knew what was ahead and why that bite wedge would be needed. And telling him to hold still through it all was asking an awful lot of the man. Jess needed a while to prepare himself mentally as well as physically.

Slim sat quietly. He could actually hear Jess slowing his breathing down. He was sure Jess was doing the same thing with his heartbeat, settling all his systems down. The amount of control that was going to be needed was tremendous, and Slim had his doubts that any man could handle it, much less a man weakened by three days of dealing with what Jess had been going through.

Seeing Jess place the wedge between his teeth, Slim doused the tweezers with alcohol.

Raising his view to Jess' face, he found the dark blue eyes fixed on him.

"You ready, Jess?"

Jess grasped the cot's blanket tightly in his right fist. He closed his eyes.

Slim drew a deep breath, released it, and began to work at the wound with the tweezers. While trying to ignore the sound of Jess' occasional groan.

He had to give his friend a lot of credit. How on earth Jess was keeping himself from moving astonished Slim. He didn't even flinch. And Slim hated how much hurt he must be causing. He was thankful when the tough Texan passed out.

Finally, Slim finished caring for the wounds, topping the procedure off by slathering Jonesy's liniment on both Jess' side and hand and bandaging them well. He wiped Jess' face with a damp cloth, hoping the fever would start to ebb.

Standing beside the cot, Slim looked down at the still-unconscious ranch hand, wondering how bad off he would have been by morning if Andy hadn't owned up to using that gun. And Slim was still amazed by the fact that Jess had not sought help from a doctor. Or anyone.

"What you put yourself through for my brother." Slim shook his head. "The way you went about helping him was a mighty poor choice, Harper." A slight smile crept across Slim's lips. "But it was the bravest, most selfless poor choice I've ever seen anybody make."

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Slim had made coffee and was sitting at the small table drinking a cup an hour later, when the injured man came to, wrinkling his nose.

"Dadgum, ya didn't have t' use smellin' salts on me." Jess groused sluggishly.

"I didn't."

"Then what the heck is that smell?"

"That's Jonesy's miracle cure-all liniment."

"Thought you said that stuff was for the horses."

"Horses and other animals." Slim grinned.

Jess gave him the evil eye. "Likely my nose'll end up more damaged than my side."

Jess' additional protests fell on deaf ears, as Slim had first-hand experience that the liniment worked wonders. Of course, those miracles usually did happen on the horses. But upon declaring that Jess had a lot in common with a wild mustang, Slim won out, and the complaining ceased.

Slim helped Jess sit up on the cot and handed him a cup of coffee.

"You wanna see what it was?"

"Huh?"

"Don't you wonder what I pulled outta your hide?"

"I guess so."

"Here's what was caught in that entry wound on your side." Slim held up a very tiny sliver of blue fabric.

"Not much more than a few threads, really. But enough to cause that infection."

"Thanks for gittin' it out, Slim."

"You and your blue shirts. Why always blue?"

"Blue's my lucky color."

Slim snorted. "Yeah, seems real lucky," he said sarcastically.

"I'm alive, ain't I?"

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Jess' continuing pain had lessened somewhat, but was accompanied by intense exhaustion. It wasn't long after he ate a little bit more of the food Jonesy had sent along, that Slim saw him slide back down onto the cot and stretch out, wincing and gritting his teeth. Slipping away toward sleep, Jess' husky baritone reached out to the tall man still seated at the table.

"Slim, could ya do somethin' for me?"

"Yeah, I know. The Texan in you is cold." Slim had just noticed the shivering. He went over and pulled the blanket up and over Jess. "I'll work up the fire for the night."

"Sounds good," Jess replied weakly. "But that ain't what I was gonna say."

"What then?"

Jess drew a shaky breath, trying to stay awake long enough to make his request. "Could ya see to Traveller for me?"

Of course, Slim thought, Jess would be thinking about some person or some animal, rather than himself.

"Sure. I'll take care of him."

Slim needed to settle Alamo for the night too. He put his hat on and started for the door, thinking about how Jess was willing to ask for help to be sure Traveller was taken care of, but wouldn't do the same for himself. He stopped and turned around, looking back at Jess.

"Don't you think you carry things a little too far?"

Jess frowned. "What are ya talkin' 'bout?"

"This idea you've got that you always have to handle everything on your own, always take care of yourself, no matter how bad a' shape you're in. Whatever it was that happened in your past to put that idea in your mind, Jess, you need to let it go. You have to learn that it isn't necessary anymore. You've got us to help you now. Let us do that, pard."

In the dimming light, Slim couldn't see the surprised, deeply moved look on Jess' face. But he heard the strong appreciation in the simple, raspy reply.

"Thanks, Slim."

Pard. Jess drifted off into a deep sleep with that last word ringing in his ears and a smile on his face.

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Despite sacking out in his bedroll on the hard cabin floor, Slim slept well. At dawn, he was awakened by the sound of Jess' stirring on the cot. Jess moaned slightly as he sat up, swinging his legs over the side. Slim went to him and laid a hand across his forehead.

"Lots cooler!" he pronounced happily. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Well, getting that piece of material outta there had to do some good."

"Sure an' a fact. And I think maybe Jonesy's liniment really helped settle that infection down some. The pain too. It ain't as bad this mornin'." Jess glanced up at Slim. "And if you tell him I said that, I'll deny every word."

Slim laughed. "Good to hear you sounding stronger. Think you can stay in the saddle?"

"Might need some help gittin' in it. But once I'm there, I'll be glued."

They ate the breakfast Slim made, and then he fed and saddled both horses and got everything packed up. They rode for home, taking it nice and easy for Jess' sake. As they stopped to rest the horses—and a stubborn Texan who insisted he didn't need it—they sat on the grass under some cottonwoods.

Opening his canteen, Jess said, "Slim, it's too bad there ain't a porch out here on the trail."

Slim pointed to the canopy of trees above them. "Plenty of shade. Why would we need a porch?"

"I reckon there's somethin' we need to talk 'bout."

"All right. Go ahead."

"What are you gonna do 'bout Chief?"

Slim sighed heavily. He hadn't expected that to be the topic and didn't want to discuss it. But now that it had been brought up, he thought he would reinforce his position.

"Andy disobeyed me, Jess. He broke an important rule, probably the most important one I have, when he messed with your handgun. And for gosh sakes, he shot you!"

"He didn't shoot me. He never even pulled the trigger, not really."

"Only because he didn't have time. You stopped him before he could start his target practice. But the result was the same—you were shot by the gun in Andy's hand, because of what he did wrong. That's serious, Jess. You could have been killed."

"But I wasn't."

"You've been going through hell with those wounds."

"Mine to go through. Mine to speak to."

"Oh, that's real clever. And maybe what you've gone through does give you the right to offer an opinion. But I can't let this go, Jess. If that's what you're leading up to."

"Maybe not let it go. But dadgum, Hardrock, don't ya think there's some other way to handle this, short of sellin' off the kid's horse?"

"I told him what the punishment would be if he did something really bad, especially if someone got hurt. He knew what the consequences would be. If I don't follow through, he'll lose respect for my authority."

"Ya know, this ain't the army, Lieutenant Sherman."

Slim threw a scowl Jess' way. "I can't go back on my word."

"What if you could change your word? Maybe look at things in a little different way."

"Jess, you spoke your piece. Now, you need to stay out of it."

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It was about noon when they stopped and settled down beside a small stream to eat the remainder of the food Slim had brought along. They had finished and were about ready to get back on the trail home, when Jess' familiar raspiness drew Slim's attention.

"Hey, Slim, did I ever tell ya 'bout the time my pa caught me breakin' his most important rule?" Jess had in mind the cougar cub and how he had disobeyed his ma about that bacon he swiped for the cat.

Slim looked over at him in shock. "Jess, you've never told me about anytime at all or anything at all regarding your family."

Ignoring Slim's surprise, Jess proceeded. "It happened when I was eleven… headin' on toward twelve."

Jess sent a meaningful glance in Slim's direction, and the tall rancher picked up on the fact that whatever happened had occurred at close to the same age as Andy's current disobedience.

"I figured Pa would give me the biggest punishment he could come up with. I knew I deserved it."

Again, Jess aimed a look toward Slim. Again, Slim made the connection that Andy deserved punishment and he knew it.

"And Pa always made sure to git his point across, to hold me to the straight 'n narrow."

Again, the look. Again, Slim made the unspoken associations—between Andy and Jess, and between Slim and Mr. Harper.

"But I'd already caused a lot of hurt to myself by what I done. Learned my lesson hard."

Again, Slim saw the similarities. He sighed heavily, beginning to feel a bit aggravated.

"Pa knew that. He understood a boy of eleven or twelve don't always have the best-workin' brain for dee-cisions, and ain't always so good at controllin' himself. So, you know what he did that time?"

Slim looked over at Jess, feeling himself getting reeled in, and with no way to avoid it.

"I told you to stay out of it."

"Outta what? I'm talkin' 'bout my pa. Ain't I allowed?"

"Well… sure you are. But─"

"One word, Slim. I just wanna tell ya one word, and then I'll shut up. 'Cause ya see, my pa didn't lose any authority in my eyes. To this day, he still has my full respect. And some of it comes because of what he did when I broke that rule. One word, okay, Slim?"

Doggonit, he's good. Slim knew he had been reeled in completely. How could he refuse? He simply nodded.

Looking at Slim, Jess paused, memories flashing through his mind. And for a second Slim thought—he wasn't sure, but he thought—he saw a tear glistening at the edge of Jess' eye. When Jess quietly said the one word, his voice almost broke.

"Mercy."

Jess suddenly lowered his head and turned away. Slim saw his Adam's apple move as he swallowed hard. He wondered if Jess' pa was still alive. And if not, how old Jess was when he lost him.

The two friends sat quietly, each knowing the other needed silence.

Jess had not told Slim what rule he broke. He had not told him what the usual punishment would have been. He had not told him any details at all. But the love and respect Jess had for his pa sure came through. To this day.

Jess did not mention Andy. Or Chief. He didn't say what he thought Slim should do. But he sure did make a point. And Slim knew that once again, because of Jess Harper, he had a lot to think about.