Epilogue

The smell of baking bread reaching him by way of the light, autumn breeze, Jess gave a contented sigh. Every breath drawn in sent hunger rolling through his belly, but he wasn't going to turn back to stifle the inner noise. He did look toward the kitchen window, but while the curtain blocked the image inside, Jess knew Daisy would be waiting by the stove for the precise moment to pull the golden loaf away from the heat.

Jess patted his stomach. While there was an argument underneath his hand, Jess knew it could wait for that first slice, especially when there would be more enticing scents come suppertime. What had Daisy said would adorn the table tonight other than the bouquet she had been fussing over? Venison roast, with squash alongside, the bread slicked with butter and jam, and while Jess would have gone so far as to beg for apple pie, the cake that Daisy had laid out for the noon stage would finish the day just as perfectly.

Again Jess sighed, this time with as much relief in it as satisfaction. There had been only one passenger to take a slice from the double layered confection. Plus Mose, but no shotgun rider. That left most of the cake for the family to enjoy. But then with a smile tugging at his mouth, Jess shook his head. It wasn't only for his belly's pleasure that he had released the weight of air from his chest.

Life was returning to normal.

While there had been plenty of protest from her all male herd, Daisy insisted on getting back on her feet. She started in the kitchen and hadn't let up. That date had been two weeks past, but today was even brighter, with it sitting at the weeklong mark since Daisy didn't need to stop anytime during the dawn-to-dusk hours to rest.

If the Sherman family was the type to put circles or slashes or even a big star over a particularly special date on their calendar, this very one would get another mark jotted down. But this time the occasion would be in Jess' honor.

Eyes back on his targets, Jess pulled a steady draft of air into his lungs and held it there. Now there was no aroma to tickle his senses or make him long for the dinner bell to start ringing. The only thing that mattered was what he was going to shoot at, and the desire to blow a hole through each one.

Spreading his legs to the perfect stance, Jess gave a single nod, his inward signal to begin. Out of the holster with a flash, Jess fired all six bullets in a rapid stream. Every tin can leapt into the air as if they were performing their own celebratory chant that Jess hadn't made a single miss. While that could have been enough to claim full victory, the need to feel the power, see the results all over again, Jess grabbed for the lead that decorated his belt.

Hearing the familiar approach, Jess let the loaded gun fall back to his right hip. "Slim."

"How's it feel, Pard?"

Looking over his shoulder, the slight smile Jess offered should have been its own answer, but neither man would be satisfied with silence. "See for yourself."

He waited until Slim replaced the tin targets into their proper seats in front of him and then allowed his fingers to drop over his iron. While this was where Jess could have imitated lightning's speed, he took an added step, even an unnecessary one and wiggled his hand over his gun handle. Maybe it was more for show than anything else, after all, Jess now had an audience, but there was something personal in the stretching of his hand. There was no pain, not even a twinge was tugging at the skin around the scar as his fingers danced over his gun.

It hadn't been this way at first. The day after Rip went into the ground Jess had strapped his old belt in place. The draw had been weak, aimless even. But he would never blame the bullet wound in his upper arm for what he missed. It was his hand, always his hand. But then he tried again, and again, everyday he was at it. There were afternoons when Jess stormed back to the house with a cuss balancing on the tip of his tongue, others where he wanted to crawl back to Sheridan to resume his life in hiding, but Jess was always standing with his targets in view again the next day.

Somewhere in the mix of this battle, Jess noticed a difference when he went for the draw. The shaking had been replaced with strength, the pain had retreated inside his memory. Did this mean healing was complete? Jess wouldn't offer an answer until his gun, eye and aim were as one.

The dents in the cans had already made their declaration, now it was up to Jess to accept the truth.

Anticipation made beads of sweat form along his brow, but they wouldn't dare to fall and interrupt the intensity of Jess' focus. Finally ready for the show and tell, Jess' hand pulled the gun from its holster. His thumb and trigger finger worked in perfect rhythm, firing the bullets in a successive string. Every tin can went the same route as before, their crash to the ground their applause. But they would be the only ones clapping.

"So I see."

Jess looked at his partner. "You don't seem all that pleased. You upset that I can shoot the same as before?"

"No."

"You sure? I reckon it might set your mind kinda at ease to know I'd never be in a gunfight again."

"Jess, just because you're name is Jess Harper there'll always be trouble coming to call, gun in your hand or not."

"Then what?"

"I was just wondering how long you were going to keep firing before you tell yourself it's a done deal, that you're fine."

"You think I'll ever be able to say that, Slim?"

He watched as Jess' thumb and forefinger worked the new bullets into the chamber. "Why not? I don't see you shaking, you didn't wince. Are you hiding something I can't see?"

"Nope," Jess answered, firing a shot to make a can bounce off of the ground and into the air.

"Then what?"

Jess shrugged. "Tin cans ain't exactly a man. They can't shoot back."

"Sorry. But now that I've seen your work, I don't think I'll oblige you as a live target."

"Dadgum."

"You know, Jess, you aren't any different than you were before."

Jess laid his palm flat, exposing the raised line that forever would remain. "Am I?"

"Where it counts, anyway."

"You mean on the inside?" Jess watched Slim nod, but he didn't let the gesture go for more than one bob. "Don't the scar go all the way through?"

"No one will look at the scar unless you put it on display. While I can see you showing off your gun skills to anyone willing to watch, I don't think you'd walk around with your hand raised for all to view."

"I would never do that, even if it was whole."

"Then all anyone will see is who you really are, Jess. Or more importantly, all a man with a gun will see is who you really are."

"And that's…?"

"Jess Harper. Unless you want to keep Rex Helfer around for a bit longer."

"No. He served his purpose. And since Rex is gone for good, all I can be is one man."

"And that's…?"

"Jess Harper. But I still don't know what it's gonna be like when I face a man with a gun."

"You do know, Jess. You took on Rip when you weren't fully healed. When the time comes for a man to be on the other side of your gun again, just like when you had to, you'll be ready. And you'll win."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you're Jess Harper, and because goodness and mercy seem to go with you wherever you go."

Jess went still, like quiet waters or something alike. "What'd you say?"

Smiling, Slim shook his head. "Nothing."

Walking back to the house, Jess turned his eyes to the sky and whatever else was beyond the fluffy clouds above him. But the gaze didn't linger there. Hearing Mike holler the milk cow's name, Jess watched as Mike tugged on her line to pull her away from her greedy calf. Being taken from what was wanted, it was natural for the younger animal to balk. Bucking her heels, the calf ran a full circle to try to get to the other side of the milk's flow, but as Mike continued to walk the cow away, the calf continued to skip along beside, mouth chomping in an attempt to grab one quarter of the moving udder.

Jess smiled. Going on four months old, the baby was obviously well past the newborn jitters, yet with every buck and kick she offered, the reminder was quick to buck and kick through Jess' mind. Not everyone was fortunate to be a calf on day one. Jess certainly wasn't. Sometimes getting to the place of running, jumping or firing a gun had to be waited for. Jess certainly had. Sure, he could have lived through a lot more happier days if he had stepped out of the hospital as a whole man, but looking at his hand, Jess finally understood how the Lazarus treatment felt. What he had been given wasn't too late at all, but had been delivered right on time.

It wasn't Sunday, but Jess had a feeling that a corker of a sermon had just been completed.

.:.

Thank you! If you made it through to the end, I'll say it again, thank you! With 82,000+ words, 200+ word document pages, this was my biggest Laramie story ever written. Maybe it was bigger in more ways than one, as this was the meanest I've ever been to Jess! Who knows though, with my mind, I could just be meaner someday! After putting in all of this labor (it was of love, I promise!) I would truly appreciate hearing what you think. While I do put that offer out there, it's also important to say that I don't do this for glory, attention or an occasional self-delivered back slap. I write these stories because of how much I love Jess, Slim and the rest of the family. I get an idea and I have to tell it, I have to share it with all of you. I can only hope that when you read this, love it or hate it, you share with me in return. You're all I have in this world of Laramie. I don't do social media, I'm not a member of any fan clubs or anything else, I'm just a solo artist, sitting in my little corner of the world watching Jess throughout the week and playing with him in words as often as I can. This site is a special place, (even when there are more glitches going on than we can count) but it's the closest thing I have to being twelve miles out of Laramie. Thank you for taking the time to being here with me, especially after 82,000+ words and 200+ word document pages written! Borrowing the words of the reverend in this story, wherever you go, know that God's goodness and mercy goes with you. -CW