Chapter Eight

Do you know what I know?

"I suppose I don't have to ask where you're going."

"No."

"You think he could've made it?"

Slim tied his thickest scarf around his neck, tucking the tails into his jacket. "No, Mort. But I'm not going to let Jess' body stay up there until the ground thaws. The sun's shining, so I'm riding."

"I sure wish I could go with you. This leg won't let me do it, though."

"I know, and while I appreciate the offer, Mort. This is something I need to do alone."

"You tell Daisy what you're up to?"

"Not entirely. She only thinks I'm going to look for Jess. I haven't told her that he went to Summit Pass. I haven't told her that no one could make it through that climb. And I haven't told her the worst, that Jess is gone."

"I'm sure sorry, Slim. I would've done anything to make this turn out differently. I don't care about my leg, but if I would've just stood outside of the bank, shaking my head as I looked into that snow cloud, then the only loss would be the money. Not the loss of a life."

"I told Mike not to blame himself. I'll tell you the same."

"Have you told yourself?"

Slowly Slim shook his head. "How could you tell I was laying the guilt on my shoulders?"

"I've known you more than a day or two, Slim."

He smiled. "Yeah. We do go a ways back."

"You remind me of that boy that had his head down with tears marring his vision after the smoke settled in Coffeeville, Kansas. Remember him?"

"Unfortunately, I do. It was the first time I killed a man outside of the war. And I downed three of them. Do you know it only takes a few seconds of my eyes closed to see their bodies, sprawled out on the ground? And now I'll have to see one more dead man for the rest of my life. Jess, buried in a coffin of winter white."

"This isn't your fault, Slim. You couldn't have stopped Jess from being Jess. No one could."

Slim rolled both hands into fists. "If I would've only called it quits when the cloud hit the horizon. We didn't have to have a tree."

"If we're going to play this game, let's point the finger at the right man. If only Singer hadn't robbed the bank."

"Yeah. That's something, anyway. At least he got what was coming for him. Jess would make sure Singer fell before him."

"Isn't there any chance, Slim? After all, Jess is… well, Jess."

He sighed, the heavy load on his chest unable to be released with the air. "I've repeated the same thing so many times I couldn't tell the difference between you asking me just now or if it was my own voice crowding through. No. Summit Pass doesn't care what kind of man steps foot on its path. In the winter, in the snow, it only cares that it won't let the man back out, even Jess. I better go, Mort."

"Be careful, Slim. Mike and Daisy, they need you real bad."

Receiving the message, Slim nodded. "I won't do anything reckless, Mort. But no matter what, no matter when, I'll be bringing Jess home."

.:.

When he wakened, he thought he was dead.

Leaning over the man, Jess watched with his own breath held, waiting to see if anything was rising and falling in Singer's chest. It was. But being so close, his fingers couldn't help but dangle a little closer to the gun resting in both hands. His lungs starting to scream for an intake, Jess barely let it enter and exit. And then he held it tightly again. He couldn't take the risk of fluttering a single hair on Singer's forehead as he lowered that extra inch to grab the gun away from him.

Knuckles bending, Jess felt the butt of the iron touch his palm, but before he could make it his own, Singer's head snapped up, as did the gun. The barrel was staring Jess in the eye.

"It's morning, huh?"

Jess waved a hand toward the light. "That's what the sun says."

"Sun! Is it really shining?"

Again Jess waved his hand toward the cave's opening. "That ain't the star of Bethlehem shining down on us."

"Well, what do you know? We made it!"

"We only made it through the snowstorm, Singer. There's still a lotta miles to get through. On foot."

"Then we better get moving."

"Can you even get up? My muscles feel locked up hard. Yours gotta be stiffer than the ground out there."

"I'll get up," Singer said, reaching for a rock to aid his rise. "And I'll keep pointing this gun at you, so you better not get any more ideas like you had a minute ago."

"I'll keep having ideas, Singer. It'll just be if I show them to you or not."

He grunted, more in pain than aggravation. "I guess you're going to have to help me."

"Didn't figure you were gonna be able to drive your own sled."

"Keep joking, Harper. It'll make the bullets sting less."

"When're you gonna learn you ain't gonna get anywhere if you put a bullet in me?"

"When're you going to learn to shut up?"

"Probably never. But that revelation ain't answering my question."

"I don't have to weigh you down with lead. I can always blister you, Harper. Or have you forgotten that nick I gave your arm?"

Jess' eyes flicked to the hole in his sleeve. "No. I ain't forgot."

"Good. Because I think the right arm needs a perfect match."

The trigger pulled, Jess' body dropped to his back, rolling as the pain rippled up and down his arm. Hand reaching for the strike, Jess' blood seeped through his clamped fingers faster than the air pushed past his clenched teeth. This one was deeper. But like the first, the bullet didn't take up residence in his flesh.

"See, Harper? A nibble here, a bite there, I'll keep it up as long as you're still able to walk. Now get on your feet and get me out of here."

Pulling himself upright, Jess followed the waving of the gun and grabbed the saddlebags, hanging them around Singer's shoulders. Left arm circling the man, Jess cradled the weight against his side and began to walk. He couldn't even imagine how far he could get this day. Already his body was arguing against the snowy torture, nearly begging him to drop his charge and take cover in the cave until the spring thaw.

But if he did, Jess would get shot again. And again. And again, or however long it took for Singer to run out of bullets.

Into the sunlight and the deep snow, Jess entered the road. Why he immediately looked northwest, Jess didn't know. There wouldn't be anyone there. Being the direction of home, Jess could understand if he was giving it a longing stare. The ways his eyes were squinting into the bright reflection of light off of the snow, it was more of an expectant stare. Like he was watching, waiting, but what was he expecting?

One shoulder rising as his shrug, Jess dropped his head. Nothing. And that empty space would remain. Slim knew where Jess had been taking Singer, knew there was no surviving Summit Pass. He wouldn't leave the safety of home to look, after all, in Slim's eyes, Jess was gone.

.:.

It was easier to ride on the road than hit the upper ridges. He wasn't saving time, for the roundabout way to Summit Pass tacked on five more miles, but it was safer for his horse to have something smooth underneath the deep layer. The snow blanketed everything. Since no one else had dared to venture beyond their front doors, the pounded out trail appeared to be invisible, yet Slim didn't fear taking the wrong step. He knew where the road bent and twisted and that this particular stretch would take him to a small cave built into the hillside. That very hillside was at the end of the five miles, exactly where he would turn to begin the slow trek to Summit Pass. He should be there in a half hour, and then he would face the uphill battle, in more ways than one.

Slim would be right about the time. Thirty minutes had just past when Slim approached the path that would start the perilous climb. It was the place of the battle that he was wrong. It wouldn't be uphill, not at the summit, not anywhere in between. It would turn out to be right in front of him.

Before he turned his mount, Slim swept his eyes across ground that should have been unbroken, but it wasn't. There was a trail coming from the cave. Thick, as if something with four legs had trudged through, but it wasn't any animal's mark.

Searching the road that branched south, Slim followed the uneven line until he found the creator. Someone was out there. Squinting, Slim's jaw grew slack. No, there were two. It took only three seconds for the hard throb to strike his chest as recognition was made.

"Jess!"

Both men spinning in unison, Jess' eyes burst wide at the sight of Slim. A moment later his lashes dropped, his head barely twisting to see the tip of Singer's gun pushing into his neck.

"Who was it that said my gun wasn't a threat anymore? Wasn't that you, Harper? You better think again."

Nudging his horse into action, Slim rode fast enough that snowballs were being kicked up from Alamo's hooves. "Let him go, Singer!"

"That's far enough!"

He pulled up on the reins and once stopped, Slim jumped into the snow, his hand ready to dart for the gun at his hip, but he knew he couldn't go all the way. "I said, let him go."

"I thought that's what you said, but I still don't understand it. It doesn't matter much to me that you found some more guns. I'd imagine you can see where mine's located."

"Yeah. You've got it balanced against Jess' throat."

"Unless you want to see the snow turning strawberry at his feet, let's see them both fall into the snow."

First the rifle letting go, Slim tossed his six-gun away. "Satisfied?"

"Enough that I'll back my gun up a mite, but take note that it won't retreat all the way. Well, Sherman, you don't give up easily, do you?"

"No. Obviously the same could be said about you, too."

Singer gave his saddlebags a thump with his palm. "It's amazing what a bunch of money will do to a fellow. Gives me stamina."

"And here I thought the only thing on you to do that is your gun," said Jess, eyeing the iron and the finger that rubbed the trigger. "How big do you think you'd feel if you didn't have it?"

"Shut up, Harper. I'd rather talk to Sherman right now."

Slim's mouth hardened to a line. "Go ahead."

"I'm actually glad that you are the type to not bury your head in the sand. Or shall I say, snow?"

"What's my head have to do with anything?"

"It doesn't. But your horse, now that is everything. I lost mine awhile back and I've had me a time since. I've busted some ribs, knocked my skull hard enough to split it, which equals out to me needing to get off my feet. Your horse will do just that. I want it, Sherman. No. I need it."

Alamo naturally taking a step in reverse as if he knew the outlaw's request, Slim patted the animal's neck. "I don't give up something of my own easily."

"I think you will when you hear my terms. We don't have to fight for it. I don't even have to trigger my gun your way. Heck, I don't even have to shoot Harper to get fitted into your saddle. You know why?"

"I will after you tell me."

"I'll swap you even. Harper for your horse."

"Don't do it, Slim."

Catching hold of Jess' blue, Slim held on. "Seems to me like I hollered something alike to you a couple of days back, Jess, and you didn't answer in kind. So I guess now it's my turn to not listen."

"But Slim…"

"It's an easy decision, Jess, and one that I've already made. You have a deal, Singer. Let Jess go."

"Walk wide of your horse first," Singer said as he gave Jess a shove. "And you, Harper, go wide the opposite way. I want you both a fair stretch apart from me. Can't let you two gang up on me when I have my back turned."

The proper amount of steps taken, Slim waited until Jess had his newer piece of ground to stand upon and then turned toward Singer. He had just met up with Alamo, but instead of reaching for the reins, he bent toward the snow.

"This is nice. Got me a rifle, an extra side-arm, and if there's something in the saddlebags here, I'll know there is a Santa Claus!" Fingers inside the flap, his hand came back out holding onto a biscuit. It didn't stay in his clasp long, up to his mouth Singer stuffed the entire biscuit between his teeth. "Ho-ho-ho! There's jam stuffed inside. This is better than all the Christmases I had growing up. Thanks, Sherman for finally making a believer out of me."

"No problem," Slim said dryly.

"Aw, there's no point frowning about it. I'm letting you both live, aren't I? I wonder if there's anything else on your horse to unwrap. Looks like there's something here. What's this?"

"What's it look like?"

"A litter," Singer answered as he let the travois drop to the snow. "What'd you have it along for?"

"To carry Jess' body home with."

Singer's eyes jumped from Slim to Jess and then back to the taller man again. "So you weren't out here to hunt me down, just to get Harper's stiff carcass. What would you have done with mine?"

"Let you lie where you fell."

Singer wagged a finger. "That's not very nice."

"I wasn't trying to be."

The chuckle too deep to have any form of mirth inside, Singer shifted his gaze, and gun, toward Jess. "Since you wanted to carry a dead man home, Sherman, I suppose I should oblige you."

"No, Singer, we had a deal! You made the swap."

"Sure I did, but I didn't say what I'd do after the swap was over. Since I picked the other two places, it's only fair that you get to choose this time. Where do you want it Harper? A blow to the chest, a fancy haircut, or what about a leaden fist in the gut?"

At the hammer's drop, Slim raced through the snow as if it were nothing but hard-packed earth. The remaining distance still too far away, Slim leapt. Grabbing Jess by the waist, they rolled into the snow as the gun let go of its first bullet. With another roll came the second blast, but as Slim laid on top of Jess, it all went quiet. The only sound was the punch and plod of Alamo's hooves as Singer pushed him up the road.

Rising slightly, Slim looked into a shade of ice far more piercing than what any winter storm could create. "You hit?"

"No."

Knowing how well Jess could hold back a truth, he offered a repeat. "I said, are you hit?"

"And I said, no."

"Then why's the snow turning red? Jess I ought to…"

"Look," Jess said, giving the wound a point. "It's only from my arm. Singer took a slice outta me this morning."

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Don't you think I'd remember getting shot?"

"Not if it was in your head."

"Well, it ain't. Get offa me so I can get up."

On his feet, Slim put his hand into Jess' and hauled him upright. "How are you still alive?"

"Because I didn't get shot. Dadgum, Slim. I thought we've been through this enough. Singer didn't shoot me just now."

Slim threw a finger at the high-rising landscape. "Bullets aren't what I'm talking about. Summit Pass, Jess. How did you survive it?"

"Didn't get to the top."

"Singer figure out what you were doing and force you back?"

Jess shook his head. "No. He fell into a hole. And I was too blamed nice to not let him rot in it."

"A hole?"

"Yeah, about eight feet wide, twenty, maybe thirty feet deep, dunno how far it stretched underground beyond that. It was too dark to tell. Ain't you familiar with the place?"

"Of course I know it. But it's not on the upward path to Summit Pass. You were about a half mile off the trail."

"Dadgum, and here I thought I knew how to read this land blindfolded. Well, I can't blame myself too much. I reckon in all this snow I got lost somewhere."

"Lost isn't the word I'd use. Dead is more like it."

"So? That's what I was taking Singer into up Summit Pass. What's it matter if I was a half mile away from it? One grave's gonna fit him just as good as the next."

"That might be true, but you probably wouldn't have made it another ten steps yourself. Do you have any idea what's on the other side of that hole?"

"I remember seeing a rock. I'd just climbed over it myself when Singer fell."

"Pa showed me once, but he forbid me from ever going there again. But I can still see it. There must be a hundred yards, even longer, of row after row after row of spires, like a steeple on a church sticking out of the hill. Those rocks are so sharp they could be swords. And the snow would make them invisible. Singer falling saved your life."

"Saved his too, I reckon."

"Not if you would've been stabbed first. He would've taken one look at your insides gushing into the snow and ran for his life."

Anger making his voice snap, Jess tossed his point in Singer's retreating path. "Ain't that what he's doing now? Running for his life, anyway? You let a no-good killer, robber and kidnapper go free."

Slim shook his head. "I don't see it that way. Not when I gained your life back."

"I still don't think you shoulda done it."

"Hold on, Jess," Slim said, putting his hands on Jess' shoulders. "What would you've done if faced with that kind of decision? Traveler or me?"

It didn't even take a second to fire the answer right back. "You."

"Well, then?"

"But we can't let him get away with it, Slim. We gotta go after him."

"How? We're on foot, Jess. Let Singer go."

Still staring into the distance, Jess shook his head, and fist. "What about the money?"

"It can't be helped, Jess. I can't speak for everyone else in Laramie, but I had about five hundred stored away. If that would've been the price on your head, I would've paid it in full."

"Dadgum, Slim. You sound just like a bounty hunter."

"Maybe I am. And I just collected, something far better than any cash prize. It's good to have you back, Pard."

His frown turned into a sigh, and finally Jess let his lips lift. "I reckon I can say the same, even if I have to let Singer go."

"Come on. We have a long walk to get home. And there are some people there that'll be right glad to see you. Oh, and Jess."

"Huh?"

"Merry Christmas, Pard."